#it gave us Balance Slays the Demon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cvlutos · 1 year

Text

OUR FAIRYTALE ENDING

✡︎ May.09.2023 | 2.3K| Commissioned by @starstruckcaptain

✡︎ Yandere! Kalim A. | Fem!Reader

✡︎ Synopsis: It started with a simple fairy tale, the devolved into a obbesassion, the became an illness. One that has no true cure.

“A true love kiss that seals is binding. Ties to lovers together. No matter the odds.”

— Childhood Fairy Tale

The thick pages of the large hard-covered book are heavy in his small hands, placed heavily in his lap, as his wide garnet red eyes dart quickly across the old, yellowed pages, reading the old fading ink. He hears the gentle rustling of wind that dances through wooden wind chimes, creating gentle clattering as he focuses on the pages. Lips a gap in utter awe with the old fairy tale.

The young heir is tucked away in a dimly lit corner of the ancient library, sitting crisscross beneath a dust-covered wooden desk, using a long wax candle, placed upon a golden hand-held candlestick, using the gentle orange flame to light the small corner of where he sat and give him the ability to see. Still dressed in his silk pajamas and barefoot as he sits upon the plush velvet cushion, one that he dragged from his bedroom with the help of his faithful servant and closest friend, Jamil Viper, who has currently disappeared somewhere in the library, though Kalim, knows he’s always near.

He always is.

Yet that isn't what the young heir cares for, not at this moment. He wants to fall in love like the prince in his story does. Who is so kind and sweet, who gives to the poor, who sees the good in everyone. The prince in his tale showers his love in gold and jewels, and dances within sunlit days and cool moonlit nights away. Who holds them close and seals their love with a kiss. Yes, this is what he desires more than anything.

To get married to his own love. To his princess.

══════ •✦• ════════════ •✦• ══════

“Shall I have you for all my own! Yes, I shall slay dragons, fight demons, and save you for all you are! Because I love you! And what is stronger than love?"

— Childhood Fairy Tale

“Do you think soulmates exist?”

Kalim walks along the towered wall, arms outstretched as he balances, placing one foot in front of the other, with Jamil by his side, holding the young heir’s belongings as they walk around the large vibrant courtyard, wasting time before Kalim's next school lesson, which is history. One of Kalim's least favorite, since the tutor is quite rude.

The large grassy courtyard is filled with unique plants--ranging from distant flowers, that fill the air with a rich fragrant aroma, and lush green bushes that hid colorful berries, to elegant and giving fruit trees, that Kalim occasionally takes from, filling his stomach with fresh oranges and plums.

“I don't see why they don't exist.” Jamil’s answer is simple, honest—like he hadn't bothered to think about it more than a mere moment, allowing Kalim to indulge in his fantasies, while he focused on making sure Kalim didn't topple off the stone wall and hurt himself. Which he knows Kalim wouldn't care about, wanting to immediately visit the palace doctor, desiring to be spoiled and given a handful of sweet candy for listening so well. Obviously trying to avoid the stern history tutor. While Jamil knows the doctor will send him to be scolded by his parents for being so careless about the young successor's health.

Which is something Jamil would rather avoid.

Charcoal grey eyes occasionally glance over, watching the heir’s feet skip and balance on the wall, occasionally wobbling, which nearly gave the young retainer a heart attack.

“I wonder where my soulmate is! She just has to be thinking about me!”

Not paying attention to Jamil's clear nervousness and annoyance with constantly having to divide his attention, Kalim continues hopping and bounding along the old wall carelessly. White hair shifting in the mild breeze as the loose clothing he wore sways and is pulled by the wind. Earning a delighted laugh from the young successor follows the wind’s pull, carelessly falling off the wall in one fluid motion. Jamil’s face pales as he rushes to the other side, jumping over the fence, still carrying the heavy school bag. Watching Kalim lay on his back, unphased as he lands in plush grass. Staring up at the bright blue sky, arms spread out gaily.

“And when we met Jamil! I'll give her the sweetest kiss! Then we’ll get married!”

Jamil bites his tongue and merely nods in return, gently placing the bag on the ground, taking the moment to sit in the shade of the stone wall, listening to Kalim laugh away. Letting the young heir to the Asim Family have his daydreams. Cause eventually, he will be saddled with reality, a harsh reality.

Even Kalim Al-Asim is not untouchable to the world of arranged marriages.

══════ •✦• ════════════ •✦• ══════

“Even in your faults of delusion. I shall cherish you—clear your mind of horrors and love you eternally.”

— Childhood Fairy Tale

The pen scratches along the paper, held by a shaky hand that moves across the page, quickly and frantically. Barely aware of what he writes, but knowing he has to write down what he remembers of his dream. A dream so vivid that it seemed real—that it was real. His milky white hair was in complete disarray, with drool decorating the side of his lips, and sweat coating his skin. The cool desert air does little to cool him, as the windows remain open, giving a clear view of the bright full moon that barely illuminates his pages. He can barely see, barely make out the words he writes messily, still in a half-sleep daze, but he needs to remember.

It’s late in the night, and he's awake before either Jamil or any of the other numerous servants checked on him, eager to serve every whim and need. While only the two guards were stationed outside his door possibly awake, but quite unaware of the quiet rambles of the heir, who drew a messy portrait of the woman in his dream. He sits upon the plushness of his bed, with a leather-bound journal in his lap, filled with other dreams of this same woman and stories that were written poorly but stories he adores that speak of you and him.

You have filled his life unlike any other.

Kalim dreamed of a pretty woman with pretty eyes. A woman that loved him, that desired him, heart and soul. That threw herself into his arms and held him so desperately. Cupping his face and whispering over and over and over how much she loved him. How she'd wait forever and ever and ever for him. Those dreams would matter less once they met.

The brain is a cruel thing.

══════ •✦• ════════════ •✦• ══════

“If you do not love me, then I accept that your feelings are your own. But I cannot deny mine, my pure feelings of want! I will love you. Forever.”

— Childhood Fairy Tale

There’s slight worry in his ways, a slight obsession that fills Kalim, as he turns woman after woman away, only holding eyes for one and giving no other a chance. Holding out for the woman he loves and loves him in return.

Still, kindness is etched into his being, rejecting each in utter honesty, speaking of why he cannot love them. Each woman leaves with nothing but understanding, that leaves with the feeling of rejection... Dull.

Leaves each to hope and to find love in one who's as devoted as he, as Kalim speaks of nothing but his true love. As his presence alone emits such devotion and passion with great fervor that you would think that his love was real.

That all he speaks was truth. That this mysterious woman was real—and she is. To him.

Jamil is the only one aware of the truth, the only one aware that Kalim lives within his own lies—within his own delusions.

Yet he keeps such thoughts to himself.

Allowing the young heir to ramble on and on, to speak endlessly about his beautiful, enchanting lover, to show sketch after sketch and mourn that he could never recreate her beauty, but once he found her, he would know immediately. Jamil says nothing, merely sits, and watches Kalim flip through his journal, page after page filled with nothing but her, her, her.

A Her without a name.

══════ •✦• ════════════ •✦• ══════

Night Raven College does nothing to curve his growing obsession. To stomp out this flame that burns and festers within his chest.

"I had another dream."

Jamil tries to keep his placated look, only sharing a brief look behind him, watching garnet eyes look utterly lovesick. Remembering not of his outbursts that follow after he awakes from his dreams—dreams that have Kalim waking up screaming—sobbing his eyes out in pain as if he was being stabbed and ripped apart. Screams that frighten the other dormmates, as their housewarden wakes up covered in sweat, tossing off his blankets and pillows in mass hysteria. While others desperately call and usher Jamil into the room. Who forces the others out as he holds Kalim onto the large bed, forcing his body to go limp from exhaustion. Sobs turning into faint mumbles, silently wailing about how badly he needs them, how he could die from the simple pain of being far from them, and how fate keeps them apart.

"It hurts," he cries, it hurts that he can't be with his love. Eyes fluttering close. After so many years, it's so painful to dream. Nights that force Jamil to remain by his side, forced to console his "friend" who doesn't want kind words but merely wants her.

And in the mornings, it is no better.

With Jamil ushered his heir awake, gently shaking his shoulders, waiting for Kalim to open his eyes—to open his eyes to the waking world. Only for him to throw tantrums, sobbing and begging for Jamil to let him go back. To let him her. "Please, let me see her. Please", Kalim sobs, body limp as Jamil practically drags him from bed.

Kalim wants to spend his days in his fantasy only.

His retainer does well to avoid the topics of love and dreaming, doing well to keep Kalim, for the most occupied with anything else. Leaving no time for Kalim to think about her--you--for a moment.

Yet sometimes this obsession seeps through the cracks. Slipping past the several walls Jamil has built to keep him sane.

Kalim's voice is a whisper amongst the sea of people, walking side by side with Jamil, who carries his and the heir's bag with a tepid look, more focused on navigating through the many students and not be late to their next class. Wanting Kalim to do anything but speak about you.

Kalim doesn't notice his friend's disinterest, used to Jamil's silent air, and far too deep in his mind, far too in love with the idea he has built.

He continues talking.

“But this time it wasn't in the courtyard, but the school gardens.” There’s an optimistic tone in his voice, one that makes Jamil sick. He says nothing, as Kalim walks with a certain breeze in his step as he moves, unconcerned by the weird glances he got as the two glid through the crowd, a delighted smile upon his face. Jamil gives a short hum, letting Kalim know he was somewhat listening, which Kalim believed was highly important. Jamil had to listen, and he had to absolutely like his lover, and care for her as his retainer cares for him.

Which is something Jamil has heard numerous times, from long-time friends to distant guests he was sure that Kalim would never see again. And under any other circumstances, Jamil would give a blunt ‘Absolutely. A friend of yours is a dear friend of mine’, with a deep bow, while easily lying through his teeth with a faux sweet tone, something that Kalim would believe without any worry.

Yet this time, Kalim was serious.

Garnet eyes were unmoving, and lips pressed together, sitting more poised like a ruler--like a king that deserved respect. Kalim was not asking, nor making a random comment nor gesture of goodwill. He was demanding that Jamil swear it--swear upon his oath that he made to Kalim since the day he was born. To vow that he would care for his love.

Forcing Jamil to not see him as an overly innocent man who was hopelessly in love, but as the next heir of the Al-Asim Family who had found his future bride. He, whose word is absolute. And Jamil did, pressing his forehead to the cold marble ground, swearing upon his life to care for her. And after a moment, Kalim was satisfied, returning back to his carefree self a moment later.

“Jamil… She said she was here. Waiting for me to find her.”

Kalim stops, the halls clearing slowly. His gaze stares out into the school courtyard below, standing silently in the open stone halls, wind rustling through his hair as he gathers his thoughts before the large open windows. His hand clutches the ends of his shirt with nothing but a grin.

A chill runs along Jamil’s spine, staring at Kalim with unrevealing eyes, lips pressed together as he gives a firm nod. Inching to move as he watches garnet eyes fill with something unlike him while searching his retainer’s before frowning.

“You don't seem happy—”

“I am.” Jamil’s words are quick, watching the dark look unfamiliar look disappear quickly, his smile automatically returns. Unable to hide his happiness nor remain still, he practically lunges onto his closest friend with a tight hug, squeezing tightly.

“You’ll help me find her…” Kalim speaks, but he follows with a gentle sigh and a headshake, “I know you will.” It’s a command. One that isn't forceful, nor threatening, but an expectation.

Jamil is his servant after all.

“Of course, I will.”

#t.manor.horror.stories #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere kalim al asim #yandere kalim x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twst yandere #kalim al asim smut #kalim al asim #kalim x reader #kalim al asim x reader #tw noncon #t.manor.commissions

395 notes · View notes

ravenya003 · 7 months

Text

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Never Kill a Boy on the First Date, S01E05

I’ve always enjoyed this episode; it’s an important one in the Story Arc, but it also grapples with the whole superhero-esque “double life” drama that Buffy has to deal with.

It kicks off in a cemetery, in which Giles monitors Buffy’s slaying of what seems like a random vampire, but one that leaves a ring behind. This is not something that happens very often (or perhaps, ever again...?) since usually all garments and jewellery on a vampire turn to dust along with the vampire itself. But today it’s an important plot-point, so we’re going with it!

The ring has three stars and a sun on it (which Buffy finds familiar, how...?) and Giles identifies it as belonging to a vampire sect known as the Order of Aurelius.

Meanwhile, the Master is reading a prophecy from a book down in his underground prison. As an aside, I LOVE prophecies and all their permeations: Self-Fulfilling Prophecies, Self-Defeating Prophecies, Prophecy Pile-Ups, Twist Prophecies, Twisting the Prophecies, Either/Or Prophecies... if there’s a prophecy, I’m ready to find out how it’s going to trick the audience and mess up the characters’ lives.

So here’s this one: “And there will be a time of crisis, of worlds hanging in the balance. And in this time shall come the Anointed, the Master's great warrior. And the Slayer will not know him, will not stop him, and he will lead her into Hell.' As it is written, so shall it be. Five will die, and from their ashes the Anointed shall rise. The Brethren of Aurelius shall greet him and usher him to his immortal destiny. As it is written, so shall it be.”

Okay, I have some questions. And if you’re going to be reading these reviews, you need to know that I delve insanely deep into bits of world-building that absolutely none of these writers gave a moment’s thought about beyond using them to crack the story into gear.

First of all, who or what was Aurelius? A vampire prophet? And this sect of his is essentially all of the Master’s followers? Who are committed to standard doomsday shenanigans? And who wrote this prophesy? I’m assuming Aurelius himself. Somehow the Master and Giles both have copies of his work, though the latter is without some crucial pieces of information – namely that the five prophesied to die won’t just happen, but be specifically targeted by members of the Order.

Which is why Buffy and Giles are left sitting in a cemetery, waiting for the Anointed One to rise from a grave, instead of realizing that the brethren have to make the Chosen One they’ve been waiting for.

But then, how did the Master know that he had to deliberately seek out the Anointed One and self-direct the circumstances required to bring about his rise? How’d they know how many people were in the van? Was the little boy deliberately targeted, or could the Anointed One have been anyone on the bus? When a person becomes a vampire they’re infected by a demon soul, so did the Anointed One choose the vessel he was going to be reborn in? In which case, did he deliberately pick the body that the Slayer was likely to overlook?

Because I dig the idea that the vampires turned Andrew Borba as a deliberate red herring, tricking the Slayer into believing he was the Anointed One while they spirited the real one away.

(For the record, I don’t actually expect any answers to these questions, I just like pondering them. If you find it annoying, then definitely don’t read any more of these reviews, because I LOVE doing this).

The other plot that’s going on during all this is that Buffy is approached by Owen Thurman, a guy we’ve never seen or heard of before, but who she’s apparently had her eye on for a while. It was early days of the show – just go with it.

Owen seems to get a lot of flak from fandom, but I think he’s a fairly decent guy, which reflects well on Buffy. This could have easily been an episode about her crushing on an unworthy jock character who proves himself to be a complete coward after that run-in with the vamps at the funeral home, but the story is more bittersweet if he’s not just a cute cardboard cut-out that Buffy can project her desire for normality on.

That Owen is more than that is a credit to Buffy herself, and it’s interesting to see what she finds attractive in a guy: intellectualism, sensitivity, perceptivity... Later on, Willow describes him as “solitary, mysterious, broody” which is hilarious – because who else does that describe? Buffy is an intelligent and observant person, but she’s definitely not a scholar or a poet, so that she finds that appealing in a potential partner reveals a well of romanticism beneath her pragmatism. (Yeah, she was never going to be able to resist Angel, was she).

In a gag I wish they’d used more, Owen comes into the library looking for a book, and Giles is initially baffled that the library can be used for more than just a Slayer/Watcher homebase. In fairness to him, this is the first time any character has walked into this place who isn’t Buffy, Xander, Willow or himself. I was kinda disconcerted as well.

Owen invites Buffy to the Bronze that evening, which sets up our internal conflict for the episode: Duty to the World versus Longing for a Normal Life. Giles also throws in the added issue of “if you tell anyone else about your true identity, you’ll make them a target and endanger their lives” which is kind of funny because neither he nor Buffy factor Willow and Xander into this equation. Seriously, Giles has no worries about either of them whatsoever.

Buffy makes it late to the Bronze due to aforementioned Slayer duties, and spots Owen dancing with Cordelia, who is all over him. Buffy leaves in a funk, and – come on, girl – you didn’t need binoculars to notice that Owen looked very uncomfortable.

That night, a van full of exactly five people (the driver, a mother and son, another passenger, and a guy called Andrew Borba) is attacked by a gang of vampires. It’s a pretty unsettling scene, and Borba throws up a lot of questions. Obviously, his purpose in this episode is to serve as a red herring to the Anointed One’s real identity, but you can’t really blame the Scoobies for targeting him. He’s physically intimidating and even before his turn he’s ranting fire-and-brimstone nonsense about the end of the world.

When Giles brings the news to Buffy, showing her a newspaper that reports five died in a van accident and one of them was wanted for questioning by the police regarding a double-murder, it once again coincides with Buffy attempting to go on a date with Owen. Hilariously, Giles tells her all this at her house, just when Owen turns up to collect her for their date, and Buffy has to hastily cover for his presence by promising to bring back her overdue library books.

Also, Willow and Xander are there. Also also, Joyce is not there, which is kind of weird. Where is she while all these people are having an extended semi-argument at her front door at night?

If your eyes are good enough to read this text, you'll discover it's amusingly incoherent. Five cent refundable deposit? Huh?

Owen and Buffy head to the Bronze, Giles decides to investigate the funeral home by himself, and Willow and Xander are torn on who to follow – naturally Xander wants to sabotage Buffy’s date, while Willow is worried about Giles.

Buffy is enjoying her date with Owen, but who should turn up at the Bronze but Angel, who essentially scolds her for not being out on the streets, doing her job as a Slayer. (As he informs a bewildered Owen, he and Buffy know each other from work). It’s his one scene in this episode, so he has to make the most of it – and it’s probably a good thing Angel is now aware Buffy isn’t just sitting around by herself daydreaming about him.

Giles makes it to the funeral home and in a cool shot, the camera pans from him to the ominous sight of the cemetery across the road, then back to him with a vampire standing right beside him. Followed quickly by another one behind him. He makes a dash for the doors of the funeral home, but unfortunately this isn’t a place of residence, and the vampires can follow him inside.

Like I said earlier, my head-canon is that the reason they don’t just kill him is because they’re here to collect the real Anointed One, and want the Slayer and her Watcher distracted from that objective.

Giles manages to barricade himself in the morgue, and it never fails to crack me up when Xander and Willow give him the fright of his life when they appear at the barred window. Apparently Willow won that argument, and the two of them head off to fetch Buffy. Giles is left trapped in what is a genuinely fraught situation. At any point the vamps could break into the room and finish him off.

Xander and Willow crash Buffy’s date and float the possibility of everyone heading for the funeral home (Willow: “I’ve always wanted to go THERE.”) Owen is surprisingly up for it, but Buffy manages to extricate herself... though not before doubling back and kissing him, right in front of Angel. Her first on-screen kiss – congratulations, Owen!

(Also, is there a reason Angel doesn’t accompany Buffy to the funeral home? I suppose he hasn’t really gotten involved in any physical altercations so far, and there’s a chance the writers still don’t know he’s actually a vampire, but if that’s the case then his reaction to Buffy’s “bite me!” comment is up there with his “I’ll be damned” one in the pilot in terms of unintentional irony.

But I feel that the name “Angel” was chosen for this character as a nod to being someone’s guardian angel, as opposed to the irony of it being applied to a vampire – which as I’ve said, the writers’ room didn’t know yet – in which case, he should be doing some more overt guarding).

Owen tags along to the funeral home anyway, and you can almost hear the Benny Hill music as the gang duck in and out of rooms and down corridors, with Buffy desperately trying to keep her date out of danger and in the dark. She finally manages to corral him into an office while Xander and Willow barricade the door (which hilariously includes a lampshade) only for Owen to notice that they’re in a viewing room, and the dead body on the other side of the glass is moving. The safe room is the opposite of safe.

Buffy finds Giles hiding with a cadaver in a body drawer in the morgue, and it’s almost funny how utterly clueless Giles is about what’s actually going on: “I don't know what these brethren mean to do exactly. Find the Anointed, or, or, or, or give him something perhaps, uh, it's all, all very vague! And the Anointed may be long gone!” Honestly, the vampires kinda deserve to win this one.

Buffy rushes back to the others when she hears the newly-risen Andrew Borba smash the glass between the two rooms (there is some top-tier comedy going on in the background as Willow and Xander immediately start unbarricading the door again) and Owen gets his first eyeful of a vampire.

There’s some running and fighting – which includes Buffy doing a completely pointless backflip off the top of a gurney – but ultimately everyone ends up back in the morgue, where the fires in the crematory accidentally get turned on in the scuffle. Owen attempts to come to Buffy’s aid, only for Borba to smash a body-drawer door into the back of his head, knocking him out.

Thinking he’s dead, Buffy is galvanized into fighting Borba with full Slayer-strength, and eventually manages to throw him onto a gurney, using his momentum to slide him straight into the crematory chamber. Owen comes to, but much to Buffy’s disappointment, decides not to continue their date. Willow and Xander offer to get him home safely. (Aren’t the rest of the vampires still outside? Or did they just grab the Anointed One and hustle?)

But there’s a couple more surprises on the table: the next day at school, Owen approaches Buffy and wants to give it another go! Turns out he loved the danger and excitement of their time together, and is looking forward to more adventures with her. Realizing that this attitude will only get him killed, Buffy commits her first act of noble sacrifice and breaks off their budding relationship.

Giles tries to console her with the story about when his father informed him it was his destiny to become a Watcher, like his father and (interestingly) his grandmother before him. Um... can we learn more about Giles’s grandmother the Watcher? Because that sounds super-interesting.

But it’s cold comfort for Buffy, who only cheers up a little when Giles points out that at least she killed the Anointed One – which is of course, our cue to cut straight to the underground church where the Master is welcoming the very not-dead (undead, in fact) Anointed One into the ranks of his brethren... and it’s the little boy. Dun, dun, DUUUUUN.

Every superhero must sooner or later grapple with the fact that their loved ones are in constant danger if their proximity to super-heroics were to ever be discovered, and this was Buffy’s episode to go through that particular learning curve. It showcases her early frustration with the double life she has to lead, and in seasons to come, it doesn’t get any better – not when it comes to her dating life, her continuing education, or her career opportunities. In the last three or so seasons, she has no life outside fighting evil at all.

Which is why this early interaction with Owen is so interesting. He’s a little condescending to her at times (like when he gives her his watch and points out where the big and little hands are) but it makes a kind-of sense that the otherwise utterly self-sufficient Buffy would respond to something like this. She’s been designated as the tough, weird one by her peers, and this kind of baby-talk flirting probably takes her back to her pre-Slayer days, when she was just a normal (perhaps somewhat vapid) teenage girl.

And I like that Owen is a worthy crush for her to have. Sure he’s a little pretentious, but he’s also completely sincere about what he’s into, puts his foot down when Cordelia keeps trying to interrupt their date, and is brave enough to double-back into the funeral home when he thinks Buffy is in trouble, even decking Borba with a metal tray in her defence. He’s perceptive enough to describe Buffy as being like “two people”, and I think Buffy responds to that – the fact he’s not so clueless that he can’t observe there’s something different about her (and is attracted to her because of that). Heck, he was practically a baby version of Angel. In another life, they would have been good together.

But there were always some cracks in the potentiality of the relationship, from his off-handed comment in the Bronze (“there’s a lot more important stuff than dating”)* to the way he freaks out after getting knocked unconscious at the morgue.

* Buffy has a visible reaction to this, because dating IS important to her as it represents her shot at a normal life. That he’s dismissive of it is ironically reminding her that she’s shirking her duties

I give the writers infinite credit for not taking the easy option and giving him Easy Amnesia after this bonk on the head, as well as avoiding the “it’s all too much for him” cliché. Turns out he’s up for more danger with Buffy... but that only means that she has to be the one to end it for his own safety. She’s just learned the hard way that ignoring her calling puts people like Giles in danger, and (as the audience already knows) she was so distracted by his presence at the morgue that she failed to destroy the real Anointed One.

Avoiding her responsibilities can cost others their lives, and she’s more resigned to her fate than she was at the episode’s beginning. (Which means it’s also beautiful setup for the show’s very last episode. We’ll get there).

Owen could have been a halfway decent member of the Scoobies, but in the end he doesn’t realize that none of what Buffy does is for thrills or fun. The “dating life” that he dismissed is a luxury he’s lucky to have. Real depth is doing what’s required of you, not going out looking for trouble.

So Buffy pulls the “let’s be friends” speech and Owen walks off and out of the show forever. Still, I head-canon him as a guy who is eventually part of the school committee that rewards Buffy with her “Class Protector” award at the prom. Think about it: he got close to Buffy, he saw some weird shit that night, he probably went on to share some stories with the other students... I like to think he figured out some of what was going on and pitched the idea (or at least helped with the presentation) of that umbrella award.

See also: Xander loudly mentions slaying in the school cafeteria and no one cares. In hindsight, this episode neatly encapsulates the idea that people will brush off weird comments and/or occurrences... but like Owen, might well be paying more attention than we the viewers initially give them credit for.

Miscellaneous Observations:

Things get so much more complicated and harrowing with the bad guys later, so in these early days it’s actually rather refreshing to see Buffy just take on some old-school vampires who just want to eat people.

This is one of the rare times in which a vampire leaves behind an article of clothing (or technically, a ring) even though this is something that logically should be happening all the time. I mean, why are jackets and pants and t-shirts turning into dust along with vampire flesh? Obviously, the answer is “budgetary reasons,” though it would have made more sense (and been kinda cool) if a vampire’s clothes were left behind when they were dusted.

In fact, my next-tier head-canon is that on being staked, vamps revert back to whatever stage of decomposition their corpses would have been at if they hadn’t been turned – so the older ones would burst into dust, but the newborns would leave a body to be deposed of. (Again, I can see why the show didn’t go with this).

On the subject of prophesies, the Anointed One is referred to as “a great warrior” and “a mighty ally” and “the greatest weapon against the Slayer”, which... is really not the case in the end. They get the “five will die” and “the Slayer will not know him” bits right, but he’s definitely not a great warrior and ultimately doesn’t even “lead [the Slayer] into hell”, unless that’s just a fancy way of describing “an underground church.” Having him be a child was a good twist, but all things considered, he’s way overhyped.

The show’s other important One-Shot Character was Andrew Borba, who leaves behind some lingering questions. For instance, was he really responsible for that double murder? Who did he kill and why? We’ll never know, but the reason I bring it up is because if it’s true, this guy was more deadly as a human than as a vampire.

He also had some interesting things to say once he’s arisen as a vampire, such as: “He is risen in me! He fills my head with song!” and “I'll suck the blood from your hearts, he says I may!” and “They told me about you while I was sleeping.” Er, so who is this “he” and “they” he refers to? God? The demon that now inhabits him? The Master, somehow? Obviously this guy was crazy-pants well BEFORE he became a vampire, but it’s still something to ponder. That last line in particular, “they told me about you while I was sleeping” fits into my theory that he was deliberately turned in order to provide a distraction for the real Anointed One’s escape, and so knows that Buffy and Giles are coming for him.

Another great moment was when Giles repels him with the crucifix, something this religiously-affiliated guy is visibly shocked by. It’s a shame this sort of thing wasn’t explored further, as the idea of a fire-and-brimstone preacher becoming a vampire and then realizing that his old identity/belief system and his new existence are completely incompatible is a very interesting conundrum to delve into. I’d love to see more religious characters react like this, and it’s kind of an echo to the fact the Master (who has his own twisted religion) is trapped in a church.

There is a strange and pointless scene in which we get a close-up of Xander’s watch, revealing that it’s a Tweety Bird watch from the Looney Tunes. Is it meant to indicate how immature he is, maybe?

It wasn’t a great episode for Xander, who spends most of it just being jealous and trying to perve at Buffy while she’s changing. Though honestly, why was he even THERE while Buffy was getting ready for her date with Owen? Not just in her room, but in her HOUSE? Why would anyone invite him to that??

Cordelia’s first look at Angel is just... wow. She calls him “salty goodness” and then watches in disbelief as he ignores her and approaches Buffy. I know this sounds mean, but in hindsight this simple scene pretty much encapsulates the dynamic of how Whedon will treat all three of these characters when it comes to their romantic entanglements with each other.

This episode is also wonderfully dated, whether it’s Buffy flat-out saying: “this is the nineties, the nineteen-nineties!” or her iconic line: “if the apocalypse comes, beep me.” That grainy, rather cheap aesthetic? I love it.

So, the Anointed One is a vampire, right? I only ask because we never actually see this character with “vamp-face” though I suppose that’s understandable since he was played by a child. Those prosthetics would have been a nightmare to get on him.

Odd that Darla isn't in this episode. As a high-ranking favourite of the Master, you'd think she'd be leading the attack on the bus.

This episode also made me realize that the show in its entirety spends remarkably little time at funeral homes. I mean, you’d think Buffy going straight there would be more convenient than wandering around cemeteries all night, and since Andrew Borba rose well before he was committed to the ground, I imagine that those morgue workers must see a LOT of shit. Surely an arrangement could have been worked about between them and the Slayer...

In short, a solid episode with crucial plot-points, a worthy if not disposable love interest, a couple of good twists and a chance for Buffy to make a difficult, important and thematically resonate decision.

Best Line: Owen to Willow and Xander at the Bronze: “You show up everywhere. Interesting.” He’s trying so hard to understand.

Best Scene: Buffy making the call to break up with Owen. It’s the first of many, many, many difficult decisions she’ll have to make over the years.

Best Subversion: Not the Anointed One reveal, but that they took the hard route with Owen and had him open to a continuing relationship with Buffy... leading to her decision to end things.

Best One-Shot Character: He gets mocked a lot in fandom, but I can mount a reasonable defence of Owen – he’s certainly a better romantic option for Buffy than other temporary love interests like Parker or Scott Hope.

Most Ironic Scene: Cordelia’s first glimpse of Angel. Whew.

Death Toll: The vampire Buffy stakes in the cold open. The five passengers on the bus, including Andrew Borba twice (as a human then a vampire).

Grand Total: Eleven civilians, nine villains. Which means that this episode tips the balance in the bad guys’ favour for the first time.

#rav's watching log #rav's buffy rewatch #buffy the vampire slayer

7 notes · View notes

spnae · 2 years

Text

Chapter 33 Skid

The trip into the Edinburgh underground had been uneventful. Spike had taken a stake and a crossbow with him in the hopes of getting in a little slaying but so far he hadn’t had much luck. He encountered the usual crowd of demons and half-demon folks he normally did when he came into town. It was night so the streets were much busier than they had been when he and Buffy had been there during the day. Spike was intent on making the trip as quickly as possible but he still had things to do. A trip to the barbershop was first.

He strode boldly into the barbershop where one demon sat in a barber chair with a towel wrapped around his face while having his horns ground down. Another demon on his left was getting a haircut. A third barber with dark chocolate coloured skin wearing an old fashioned orange and white striped button down shirt, like a member of a barbershop quartet greeted him. Spike noticed that the three barbers were identical, triplets if he had to guess, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if there was a fourth hanging around.

The perfectly quaffed barber smoothed his black handlebar mustache, came over to him. “How can I help you?”

“Due for a trim and a touch up on the roots I imagine. Got a look to maintain. Gone a bit long as it is.”

Yellow, cat-like eyes assessed Spike, “Ah yes, too many vampires just let themselves go. I’ll have to wash out that gel you know.”

“No kidding,” he fussed with the back of his hair breaking apart a few of the slicked back curls that had been annoying him, “Yeah, figured you’d say that.”

“Have a seat,” the demon barber gestured towards the chair furthest from the door in front of a sink. Spike sat and allowed the barber to wrap a cape around him before getting started with a quick rinse to get the gel out without actually washing it, “Haven’t seen you around, just visiting?”

“Just sort of moved back with my lady. Not really much for the small talk.”

“Typical vampire.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you met my old tumble. Talk your ear off, that one would.”

The barber gave an unproportionately hardy laugh, ��Ohwell, opposites attract and all that.” He said, indicating he was finished with a tap on Spike’s shoulder and attacking his head with a clean towel as he forced him into a sitting position with practiced swiftness. Then guided him into an empty chair to start on his haircut.

“So where’d you move from?”

“Been in LA for a bit.”

“Heard there was a bit of trouble over there not long ago. Might be an unpopular opinion but I for one was glad the whole world didn’t go to hell. We rather like a nice balance around here; don’t we fellas?”

There is a general grumble of noncommittal agreement.

“You’re welcome. Always nice to meet fans.”

“What’s that?”

“Forget it,” he grumbled.

“You travel a lot then?”

“Been doing a bit lately.”

“I always wanted to travel. But not us, we’ve been here nearly our entire lives, haven’t we boys?”

The other two brothers murmured their agreement in unison.

“Been just about everywhere I ever wanted to go and then some.”

The barber set his tools down. Picked up a brush to clean the fallen hair off of Spike’s shoulders, “Ready for the bleach or do you want to see it first?” He paused awkwardly, “I mean I’ll get the camera.”

Spike ran a hand over his hair feeling the length. As annoying as this guy was, he had to hand it to him. He was very quick which sort of made up for it, “Feels good. Get on with it then.”

This was the part that Spike knew he would get annoyed with. Bleach tended to take longer than a haircut; he sat through the barbers endless prattling as he worked. Applying the bleach took no time at all. It never did. The part that took time was letting it set. Spike ignored most of what the barber had to say and directed his attention to the conversations going on between the other Demons and the two other much less chatty barbers. He always preferred listening to talking. He tended to find out more that way. Although these guys didn’t really seem to have a lot to say that didn’t reinforce what Spike had already gathered from the other demons in the area. For the most part they were a fairly peaceful lot, as far as demons went.

When the barber was finally finished he went over and pulled a Polaroid camera down off of a shelf, “Ready to take a look?”

“Yeah alright.”

The barber snapped a picture and removed the photo from the camera, waving it before handing it to him. Spike gave the photo a critical look before pocketing it. Maybe he should get Buffy a new camera. At least they’d have pictures of themselves and he could stop wondering what he looked like half the time, especially after a fight.

“You’re taking the photo?” The barber asked, indicating a wall of pictures, mostly vampires, behind him.

“Nah, I’ll take this. Didn’t crawl out of my grave this century, mate. Besides, I bet my lady would get a good laugh out of it, don’t really have any pictures. Thanks for the do,” he said, pulling out his wallet and slapping some money down.

*****************

It wasn’t long before he made his way into Steve’s bar. He’d already spent enough time at the barbershop so when he got there he simply flagged Steve down.

“Spike, what’ll it be?”

“Just come to get my bike, still where I left it?”

“Threw a tarp over it because some wanker came in nosing about it and the scabbard on the side.”

“Glad the Mrs took the blade home then. Bike is alright though right?”

Steve raised his eyebrows, deep lines forming across his forehead somehow emphasized the large rams horns curling out of his curly hair and around the sides of his head, “The Mrs? I didn’t see a ring.”

“Don’t get hung up on it man, I’m working on it. Got one in mind, just gotta get down to London for it. You got my bike?”

“Sure, seemed fine when I checked on it last. I didn’t think your kind usually did the marriage thing,” Steve seemed genuinely curious.

“A few here and there, got a friend in Paris married to a chef, both vampires. Run a cabaret. If Buffy wants to make it official, I’ll make it official. I’m not going anywhere either way so it makes no difference to me. Oh go on then, pour me a shot of whiskey would you?”

“Just when I think I’ve got you figured out.”

“Yeah, I’m full of surprises.”

“I don’t like vampires, but you, I’m starting to come around to you.”

“I don’t like most vampires either so it works out.”

“Look, I don’t know how you came about that bike but those fellas who were poking about seemed awfully interested. Watch yourself, you got it?”

Spike knocked back the shot Steve poured for him, “Ta, Steve-o.”

Spike found the bike just as Steve said he would, under a tarp behind the pub in pristine condition. “Hello beautiful,” he purred to the vintage Triumph before pulling the key out of his pocket. It was in great condition but given the way he had acquired the bike he was wondering if maybe he should have it repainted. The glossy dark-blue was striking but he’d always been partial to red and black. He got on the bike and started heading out of town.

He was nearly halfway home when something caught his eye. A rope pulled tight across the tunnel. He wouldn’t have seen it at all if there hadn’t been a light behind it further down the tunnel. As it was, he barely had time to lay the bike down into a skid. The rope scraped against the leather of his duster as he slid under it and he growled in pain as his body slid across the floor of the tunnel and away from his bike. The momentum sent him rolling uncontrollably until he smacked hard into the brick wall of the tunnel with a loud crack that reverberated off of the walls. He had hit on the same side that had grated along the floor of the tunnel.

Spike pulled himself up panting in pain. He turned his head looking for his bike now laying several paces away. His leg didn’t just hurt; it felt like it had been through a meat grinder. What was left of his pant leg was in tatters, the skin probably was too.

In the darkness two figures came towards him. Spike put on his game face to see better. Demons. One was moving oddly, probably retrieving the rope Spike thought to himself. As they came a little closer he could tell that they were big burly bruisers, the same kind as the one he and Buffy had killed in Edinburgh.

“What’s a matter , boys?” He gasped, “Did I take your friend’s toy? He wasn’t going to be using it with his head lopped off you know.”

“We don’t care about the ride. We want the blade.”

“Sorry, I haven't got it.”

“You’ll take us to it then.”

“No, I really don’t think so,” he laughed. Then he drew out the little crossbow, and fired. It hit the smaller of the two demons in the chest but it did little more than piss him off. “Ah well it was worth a shot.”

Spike adjusted his stance, he was hurt but that had never stopped him before. He cracked his neck and adjusted his stance favoring his mutilated leg. His hip and shoulder were protesting as well and he was sure he had a few broken bones but he was determined to ignore it all. “I’ve been itching for a good tussle, don’t disappoint me fellas,” he growled.

The first demon came up fast carrying a cricket bat and swung hard. Spike dodged the first hit, a stabbing pain shot through his leg, up into his hip, and he stumbled as the second blow hit him in the ribs. Spike grabbed the bruiser by the shoulders slamming him head first into the wall. He screamed in equal parts pain and anger as he kicked him in the stomach and delivered a punch to his jaw, knocking the demon to the ground.

The second bruiser suddenly took the rope they had used to knock him off the bike and lassoed Spike from behind. The demon pulled it tightly around Spike’s legs, yanking him off balance. He fell to the ground, landing on his already injured side. The stake Spike had been carrying fell out of his coat pocket and rolled just out of reach as he struggled for leverage. The first demon scrambled to his feet and stalked towards Spike.

The demon picked up the stake grinning a hideous grin, “A vampire that carries the means to his own end, eh? Now I’ve seen everything.”

Spike twisted, gathering a small pile of dust and debris from the tunnel floor and threw it into the demon’s eyes. He tried to use the distraction to free himself but the second demon still holding the rope, gave a hard yank pulling him several feet.

Suddenly, without any sound or warning, the two demons were slammed flat against the tunnel wall. “Dishonorable fiends!” an angry voice called with a screeching hiss from behind Spike. He twisted to see who it was and tried to push himself up. The voice was female but it certainly wasn’t Willow.

“W- what the hell!” The first demon sputtered.

“Silence, filth!” The voice bellowed. The demon suddenly slid from the wall to the ceiling and the second one followed. Spike could see them better now. The skin on their faces had been pushed back as though they were in a jet. The demon’s arms flipped up on their own accord with a sickening snap and Spike knew the bones had broken.

The slight figure of a very petite woman, even smaller than Buffy, stopped beside Spike. In a much softer tone she spoke to him, “Bond-mate of the Slayer, can you stand?”

“I- ehh… bond-mate? Hang on a tic. Lilias?”

“It is. I am sorry if I have offended you, but I could not stand by and witness their treachery any longer. Can you stand, vampire?”

Spike managed to get himself untangled from the rope and struggled to pull himself back into a standing position before answering with a huff, “I’m peachy.”

“You are injured.”

“Yeah sure I am, I—“

He was cut off when the two demons' necks suddenly snapped and they fell to the floor with a dull thud.

Spike’s eyes grew wide, “Bloody hell. I thought Buffy said you had some sort of water magic,” he said as he turned to look at her properly and realized suddenly that she had her son strapped to her chest. He was fast asleep in the carrier they had given them.

“I do. I was controlling the water in their bodies.”

He quickly composed himself, deciding it was best to be conversational. She had just saved him after all. “Impressive. How’s ah— how’s the little tyke been?”

“My son? Ah yes, Aftyn is quite well, thank you. Again, I am sorry if I have offended you—“

“Good to know his real name, we’d been calling him by the wrong one. And eh what’s with the apologizing bit, anyway? You just saved me, why the bloody hell would I be offended?”

“I have heard it said that males on the surface are often intimidated and offended by strong females.”

“Only the massively insecure ones. Piss on that rubbish. Thanks for the assist.”

“You are most welcome. I am glad I have not offended you.”

“Pfft, I’m in a relationship with the strongest woman I’ve ever met, I’d say I’m pretty damn secure.”

Lilias nodded, “As you should be. You are her strength. Your love is very important.”

“Humm yeah, thanks. Top side we usually just say ‘you make a cute couple.’”

Lilias actually smiled at that, “Yes, while I’m sure you do make a very handsome looking couple; that is not what I mean. I mean that your love is important. Not only to each other but to the world.”

“Ehhh— thanks.”

“It is my pleasure to assist you. Are you well enough to get back to your Slayer on your own?”

Spike looked down at his leg and glanced at the bike, he cringed at the thought of the damage the slide might have caused. He would heal, but the bike was a different story, “I’ll tell ya in a minute.” He limped over to the bike, his leg seared with pain but he was mobile. Upon righting the bike, he assessed the damage. It was scratched pretty badly, as he expected and would definitely need some work. He hoped that the engine hadn’t been damaged. The thought almost made him want to cry.

It took a few tries and a lot more effort than usual to get himself onto the seat of the bike. He clenched his jaw once he sat down and looked up at Lilias and the sleeping blue baby on her chest, “Well there’s half the battle won. Now, I know that kid can sleep through just about anything, but you ah, might want to cover his ears for this.”

Lilias nodded once and placed a hand protectively over her son’s ear, the other little ear pressed firmly to her chest, “You may proceed, vampire.”

Spike gave her a little two fingered salute and a wry smile before turning the key in the ignition. The bike gave a little cough but started. Spike gave a silent thanks to whoever was listening, “You can just call me Spike. Hey, I know you can handle yourself and all but do you need a ride or anything?”

Lilias raised one heavily pierced brow, “I thank you, Spike, for the concern, but no. I had been simply taking Aftyn for a walk to put him to sleep when I came upon your predicament with those cowards. We will be quite fine.”

“I believe you. Well, I’d better be off, the fumes can’t be good for the little tyke. You have a good one Lilias. I’ll give Buffy your best, shall I?”

“Oh yes, please do! Goodnight!”

*****************

Buffy blew dust off of the rock she had been carving. When she had agreed to do this she hadn’t taken into consideration the amount of dust they would be generating. Fortunately Willow at least had thought about it and had supplied them all with safety glasses and laid plastic over the furniture before starting. It didn’t do much for their clothes though. Buffy and Xander both had a fine layer of stone dust covering them from carving the stones with the dremel tools. Willow also had a fair amount of dust covering her due to the close proximity they were in but it wasn’t as bad as the other two.

The night had been very much like old times. Sitting in Buffy‘s living room whittling stakes or trying to fix furniture. It finally felt like she was getting some semblance of ‘normal’ back into her life. Her normal. Inwardly she was very thankful that Xander and Willow had decided to make this trip. She knew Willow had to leave in a few days but Buffy was wondering if she should ask Xander to stay longer. Even if it was only to help Callum out with the duplex. It occurred to her then that she hadn’t even talked to him about it yet.

“Explain to me why I agreed to this?” Xander complained, his voice disrupting Buffy’s thoughts.

“Because you love us and you wanted to help shoulder our burden,” Willow grinned.

“Oh right, that old thing. Are we almost done? There must be a hundred rocks here.”

“113; I think there are about three left.”

Buffy finished the one she had been working on and handed it over to Willow. “Oh good. Okay, hit me with your best rock.”

Xander snorted and picked another two rocks out of the bucket Willow had put them in, “This one looks like a winner, Buff.”

They continued to carve the stones as their third movie of the night finished.

“Perfect timing. I’m almost done with this one. Give me that last one and we’ll call it quits. I am so ready for a shower and bed.”

Xander nodded, “Yeah I was hoping you’d say that. As fun as this was with the whole catching up thing, I’m right there with you. I’m not used to these late nights anymore.”

“I am and I’m still ready for bed,” Buffy laughed, “I’m on vampire time more often than not anyway,” she said, passing the stone over to Willow and grabbing the last one.

Xander handed his stone over to Willow as well and sat back stretching his arms over his head. Just then the door opened “Buffy!” Spike called.

“In here!” She called over her shoulder.

Spike shambled in, collapsing against the archway leading into the living room, “Hey, gang,” he gasped weakly as his leg gave out from under him and he crumbled to the floor.

Buffy whipped her head around and shoved the last rock over to Xander. In a heartbeat she had vaulted over the back of the couch to go to him, “God, Spike, what happened? Are you okay?”

Willow and Xander both turned to see him better, “Holy crap Spike, can’t you even run errands without getting the crap beat out of you?”

“Cut it out Xan, finish your rock,” Willow reprimanded him, “Hair looks good though.”

Spike rolled his eyes as he glanced at her feebly and let out a low manic laugh, “I’d nearly forgot.Thanks for noticing Will.”

“Can we focus? What happened to you?” Buffy asked, frowning.

“Had a run-in with some baddies lookin’ for your new sword, Pet. Set a trap for me and I wrecked the bike,” he pulled himself up to sit, “Leg’s pretty banged up. Hip doesn’t feel so hot either, think I might have broken something; couple of somethings. They got my stake, might have been in real trouble if Lilias hadn’t showed up.”

“Lilias? You’re kidding?”

“Even had Aftyn with her. Some friend you got there. She’s crazy scary when she’s pissed. I sure am glad she likes you. Takes some real power to do what she did.” He gritted his teeth as he ripped his pant leg to get a better look at the damage and let out a hiss of pain, “Bloody hell.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, bird made real short work of those two bruisers with that water magic of hers. Manipulated the water in their bodies. We do not want to piss her off. Did I mention she did that with a baby strapped to her chest?”

“Aftyn?”

“Yeah, that’s Little-boy-blue’s real name, looks like the girls weren’t too far off calling him Alun after all,” he gasped in pain gripping his side where the cricket bat had hit.

Buffy gazed at the horrible road rash on his leg and marveled at how they could call it that, it didn’t look like a rash at all, the skin was completely gone in a couple of spots, “We need to get this cleaned up, and see what else you did.”

“I’ll need blood. Lots of it.”

“Xan?”

Willow nodded at him, “I’ll finish this up, go help them.”

Xander set the partly carved stone down in front of Willow, and proceeded to dust himself off in a cloud of filth.

“Gahh! Xan! Do that outside!” Willow squeaked.

Xander grimaced apologetically, “Sorry!” He mumbled before he made his way over to SpIke and Buffy. “Holy ground meat, Batman. Spike, are you sure blood is going to cut it?”

“I’ve been through worse,” Spike grunted as he let Buffy help him up.

“Try that stuff I made for Buffy, it should help,” Willow interjected.

“Yeah, used it on my arm a few weeks ago, cut the healing time down a bit.”

“You guys heal fast as it is, but I figured it was a good idea anyway. Helps prevent scarring too.”

“I for one definitely appreciate that,” Buffy interjected.

“Been a long night, Pet. Blood, rest and lots of alcohol.”

“Blood, and medical attention before you get in bed, mister alcohol if you’re a good boy.”

“And what do I get if I’m bad?” He let out a coughing laugh.

“Hum, definitely not the fun night we originally had planned. God Spike, you’re a mess… let’s get you taken care of.”

“For better or worse huhh?” He mumbled a little drunkenly as she helped him into the elevator.

“We’ve definitely been through worse,” she sighed. She turned to look at him. The look on his face was an odd combination of pain, love, and pure determination that made the breath catch in her throat.

“I love you, Buffy Anne Summers. With every battered and bruised fiber of my being, I love you.”

She felt herself melt a little and kissed him gently in the elevator, “I love you too, you idiot,” she chuckled numbly, “I love you too.”

****************

“You sit, get comfortable. I’m going to go get the first aid kit.”

Spike shrugged off his duster, wincing a little as he did. Then he held it up to examine it. There was some gouging in the leather on one side and a small tear at the shoulder but otherwise it wasn’t in horrible shape, well it was, but he had been trying to break in this new duster for a while now and after this it was starting to feel a little more like his old one. He flopped it down and lowered himself down gingerly on the loveseat. Then glanced up at Buffy. The look in her eyes and the concern rolling off of her was almost as good as a mirror. She was worried about him.

“Might want to get cleaned up a bit yourself there, Love, looking like a ghost in a stage play you are.”

Buffy looked down at her dust covered clothes and hands. Before Spike had stumbled into the living room she had been longing for a shower. Now he was hurt, she hadn’t given it a single thought. This was the worst she had seen him hurt since the Hellmouth. She knew this was nothing for him. It certainly wasn’t as bad as it had been when Glory or The First had tortured him, but something in her broke seeing him like that all the same. She leaned in to kiss him.

Spike grabbed her hand gently as the kiss ended, “I’ll be fine. You’ve done me worse than this in some of our old fights and I survived. Flaming church organ comes to mind.”

“And that put you in a wheelchair.”

“See? This is nothing. Go on. Get cleaned up. I’ll get a drink or twelve, strip out of these rags and get a better idea of what I’m dealing with here. Then you can put all the disinfectant, ointment, and bandages on me you like. Alright?”

“Alright but I’m bringing the bottle to you, Xander should be in any minute. Where the hell is he anyway?”

“Go on, Pet. Get all squeaky clean. I’ll be here.”

Buffy set the bottle and a glass down on the coffee table, “I’ll make it quick,” she grabbed her robe, and headed for the shower.

Spike had been alone for less than two minutes when Xander came in with a big bag of blood.

“Hey man, where is the Buffster? I’m surprised she’s not in here playing nurse.”

Spike glared at him and took a drink of whiskey, “Shower. Probably would be in here except that she’s covered in all that dust. You could use a good wash too. Hand that over would you?” He gestured towards the bag of blood.

Xander shrugged, handing it over along with a straw, “Don’t I know it,” he looked around the room vaguely, avoiding Spike as he jammed the straw into the plastic bag and started to drink. Xander continued, “So ehh, nice digs.”

“It’s alright. Not exactly my taste but it’s comfortable enough. Not going to be going with this color theme when we do up our new place, I’ll tell you that.”

“Yeah about that. That’s going to be a lot of work.”

“You’ll get paid for it,” Spike huffed as he propped his leg up on the coffee table and removed his boot.

“Excuse me?”

“We’re paying you for our side. Don’t expect you to do it for free. You and Red are going to have to hash out what you’re doing on your side of course.”

“Huhh?”

“Didn’t the girls run any of this by you? They were supposed to have done, during your little arts and crafts night.”

“I guess we were distracted with the catching up of it all.”

“Right, so I guess it’s down to me now I’ve stuck my foot in it. Buffy already talked to Willow and she accepted the proposal so I just figured you’d follow suit. There’s enough space. We thought you might want to move in with Red. Have you taken a look upstairs yet?” He continued drinking deeply through the straw.

“No, Faith’s boy-toy just sort of showed me around the basement and the ground floor there. He said something about getting started on the renovations but we didn’t really have a chance to go upstairs.”

“Yeah well it’s a nice spacious sort of layout there. You and Willow would have your own private suite each. It’ll be quite posh once it’s done.”

“I am pretty homeless at the moment. Might be nice to have a place to keep my comic collection.”

“I’m sure Buffy will be thrilled to have her best mates for neighbors.”

“Can I ask you something?”

Spike made a “go on” gesture as he took several more long gulps of blood through the straw.

“What’s in it for you? I mean sure you got Buffy and a job here which is just weird and what is going to be a really great place to live and sure— but what do you get out of it?”

Spike blinked, “Piss on any of that other stuff, what makes you think Buffy isn’t enough? Have you met me?”

Xander shrugged, “I don’t know man. I just—“

“Are you seriously trying to give me the ‘brother’ speech? Is that what’s happening here?” Spike snorted out a laugh and went back to sipping his blood.

“Yeah alright. I guess I sort of was,” he let out a huff and sat down in a chair across from Spike.

“Dawn was much scarier. You’re an idiot Xan, but you’re a good friend— I guess.”

“Best friend you’ve ever had,” Xander huffed, “Maybe Clem— Buffy—“

Spike lowered the straw from his mouth and looked at Xander blankly, “And here I thought Angelus was full of himself.”

“Oh, like you’re rolling in the friend department.”

“Well no, Buffy killed most of the ones I’d have a pint with in Sunnydale— sort of ostracized myself from the rest whenever I got the chip and joined your lot.”

“Yeah and I’m seriously lacking in testosterone-rich friends. You’re pretty much it. Maybe we can rope that Callum guy into our sad little man-circle. Start a poker night or something.”

“He’s a decent enough bloke… bloody hell—“ he sighed defeatedly.

“Yup, this is what you’re signing up for.”

“Bully for me.” Spike drained the bag of blood and grabbed the bottle of whiskey to pour himself a drink, “You want one?”

“I’m not really into the hard stuff.”

“Right…” Spike snorted.

“Fine, what are guy friends for? Bring on the peer pressure.”

“Glasses are over there, you’ll excuse me if I don’t fetch it myself.”

Xander snickered as he retrieved a glass and resumed his seat. They were sipping whiskey in silence when Buffy came back into the room in her robe and a towel on her head, clutching a first aid kit, “Hey babe I got the— Xan? What are you doing?“

“Just knocking back a few with my good buddy here,” Xander answered, he was already a little tipsy.

Spike rolled his eyes and turned his face towards her, “That’s his third there in his hand, oh and he’s decided I’m his best mate.”

“Best male-friend.”

“You see.”

Buffy sighed, “Wow. Ok well as much as I love the whole male bonding— whatever this is… Spike needs medical attention and I need to get dressed, that means you, out, Xan.”

“Yup,” Xander downed his drink and got up, wavering slightly before steadying himself, “Did I mention I’m more of a light drinker?”

“Good night, Xan. Don’t wake Giles up when you go up there!”

“Got it, good Buffy!”

Once he was out of the room Buffy turned back to Spike, “Seriously?”

She went over to her drawers and pulled on a t-shirt and some sleep-shorts then plopped down next to him on the loveseat to look at his leg.

“Yeah not really my idea, but damn if the boy doesn’t have a point there. You got to admit, there is a depressing lack of non-demonic males around to share a pint over a football match.”

“Strip. You mean soccer right?”

“Hells bells. Not on this side of the pond it’s not,” he grinned smugly, as he gingerly pulled his shirt off. Most of his side was covered in angry bruises, his jacket had protected his upper body from the worst of the scrapes, “and I’m afraid you just proved my point, Love.”

He stood up shucking out of his jeans. The bruising continued down his side, Buffy knew that would be gone in a few days. The scrapes and road rash would take a little longer. Spike sat back down, skipped the glass and grabbed the bottle of whiskey. He took a long swig, grinding his teeth and continued talking, focusing on the conversation rather than the pain in his leg as she cleaned the wounds.

“As great as you are, I don’t really see you sitting through a Manchester United match with me hollering at the telly like a bloody idiot. At least Xander knows what he’s in for, he actually sat through a match or two when I crashed with him in Sunnydale.”

“You need a little social testosterone therapy. I get it. You two should hang out together, invite Callum. He seems social enough and you guys get along,” Buffy said as she pulled several small stones out of his knee and calf.

Spike hissed with each of the larger ones, “Yeah, he’s alright for a bloody Scott– Ahh… many more of those?”

“A couple, hold still.”

He took another long swing from the bottle, “Maybe we should check out that brewery of his brother’s.”

“Maybe…” her focus on his leg rather than the ambeling conversation.

He swished the amber liquid in the bottle, “Could check out this Abby where Faith picks this stuff up at.”

“She doesn’t drive clear over there every time, does she?”

“Nah, just when she feels like taking a drive, she normally gets it from the local liquor store.”

“You two really go through it.”

“You’ve been known to have a nip or two, Pet.”

“Not like you two.”

“Vampire constitution sucks.”

“Good point,” she sighed, pulling out another small stone.

Spike peered down at his leg, “That the last of the rubble?”

“Got your rocks off after all. Can you hand me that?” She gestured towards the jar of ointment Willow made and Spike retrieved it for her.

“This is definitely not what I had in mind for tonight.”

“Tell me about it. I’m just glad you made it back in one piece.”

“Yeah. I feel bad for the bike.”

“Is it bad?”

He let out a long sigh, “It still runs and the frame isn’t too bad considering. It’s pretty scraped up. It’ll need more than a coat of paint, that's for sure.” He took a long pull on the bottle.

“What did they want with the sword?”

“Dunno. Didn’t really get that far in the conversation. Have to get into research mode on it I guess.”

“You know how much I love research mode,” Buffy grumbled.

“Bout as much as I do, Pet.”

Several minutes later his leg was bandaged from ankle to mid thigh and the bottle of whiskey was empty. “How’s that feel?”

“Better,” he got to his feet unsteadily, “I should be mostly healed up in a few days, maybe a week or so on the fractures”

Buffy nodded, “You need rest.”

“I bet I’d sleep better with a Slayer curled up on my good side.”

“I’ll see if I can find a spare one,” she quipped, leaning in for a kiss.

Spike chuckled weakly, “Afraid there’s only one that’ll do, Pet.”

#fanfic #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy fanfic #buffy x spike #spuffy #bound #spike x buffy

5 notes · View notes

eafolktraditions · 2 years

Text

China and The Chongyang Festival (重阳节)

Long ago during the Han Dynasty, a man named Huan Jing and his family were experiencing great troubles. Not only were his parents ill but an evil spirit tormented his town. One day, a Taoist immortal being came to Huan Jing and warned him that he should take his family to the highest part of the village to avoid the coming atrocities. Heeding the spirits' suggestion, Huan Jing did just that. On the ninth day of the ninth lunar month, he took his family up a mountain and, upon returning, found his village in chaos and ruins. Remembering the advice the being gave him, he used chrysanthemum wine to defeat the demon and save his town.

While the method of slaying the demon differs from wine to a magical sword depending on the source, the story itself is what matters. This is the folk tale the Chongyang Festival originated from. Celebrated throughout China and Hong Kong the Chongyang Festival, or Double Nine Festival, highlights the importance of ancestral veneration, cleansing of negative energy, and continuation of Taoist tradition. The date itself, 9/9 of the lunar calendar, is picked because in Taoist belief, the number 9 is associated with Yang; masculine energy, light, and the heavens. It being 9/9 means there is an imbalance of energy that must be corrected through certain means.

The festival is significant because it represents a continuation of Taoist traditions even in a modern, arguably westernized society. While China sees rapid economic and urban growth, the people still hold onto practices like honoring ancestors and celebrating festivals rooted in Taoist principle. While Taoism can be considered an ancient philosophical and religious tradition, its principles have survived the test of time in China through being malleable to modern society.

While traditions vary between mainland China and Hong Kong, some are practiced throughout. To restore balanced energy, many Chinese flock to their ancestors' gravesites. Cemeteries become very crowded while families begin showing respect by cleaning family graves, remarking inscriptions, and leaving food offerings. Additionally, like Huan Jing, climbing mountains to pray to one's ancestors, for good fortune, and balance is a common practice during Chongyang. For food, many enjoy chrysanthemum wine or tea (as seen below) and chongyang cakes (as see above). Not only was Chrysanthemum, a flower native to East Asia, used to slay the demon in Huan Jing's story, but it has also been historically claimed to promote longevity and thus used in the celebration. Another tradition is to fly kites high into the air as it represents your bad energy floating off into the sky.

Specifically for China, Chongyang is marked as National Senior's Day. People are encouraged to reach out to older family members to show thankfulness and veneration, relating back to the Taoist tradition of filial piety.

In summary, the Chongyang Festival is celebrated throughout East Asia and represents the deep appreciation for traditional practices and principles that find their roots in Taoism even in a modern society.

-安乐楷

Source List can be found here!

5 notes · View notes

wardencommanderbrosca · 2 years

Text

Dragon Age Pinned Post

Hello! This is a pinned post. I am Alexander, He/They, 25. Banner credit to @valeskaswatch

CURRENT CANON WORLDSTATE

Anora rules alone. Architect killed. Bhelen king. Old God Kieran. Bethany lived in the Circle. Anders Killed. Pro-mage. Pro-mage Inquisition. Morrigan drank from the Well of Sorrows. Inquisition Disbanded.

Completed

Balsis Brosca. (25 as of 9:30 Dragon, he/him) As a former criminal and Casteless, Balsis never believed he would be respected or worth anything. Then he met Duncan. Taken to the surface, he met people that respected him, and he saw nobility he wanted to emulate. However, this was tempered by experience in Dust Town, and so Balsis was pragmatic. However, he could not abide imprisonment or denting freedoms. As such, he gave others a second chance as he had been given. He seeks to be noble and righteous to compensate for his criminal background, and he finds love and freedom with his love, Zevran. He made a deal with Morrigan and ensured that the city and kingdom had strong leadership with Anora. Sword and shield, Champion and Templar

Deacon Hawke. (23 as of 9:31 Dragon, he/him). Deacon became a warrior to make himself the target. Deacon cares deeply for his family, and when his brother Carver died, he did everything in his power to protect his sister Bethany. He has a deep disdain for the Circle, and is heartbroken and enraged when Bethany is taken. He takes solace in his companionship with Merrill and friendship with Varric and his other friends. Deacon earned the Arishok’s respect and slayed him in single combat. He helped all of his friends as best he can, and tries to bring them around to freeing mages. He and Merrill fell hard in love, and nothing could separate them. Anders’ destructive ways enraged Deacon, and he slayed the bastard before siding with the mages. Deacon’s life is a tragedy, and he took on so much pain to protect others only to still encounter tragedy. Two-handed, Reaver.

Aqun Reth Adaar. (30 as of 9:41 Dragon. He/him) Qunari, Vashoth, Inquisitor. Several titles he did not ask for. Yet he was raised Vashoth, and so is used to having to fight for his freedom. He learned to use sword and shield to defend his company, and he chose his names. Aqun Reth. To protect balance. Not the strictness of the Qun, not the running wild some wish. Romanced Josephine Montilyet, and loves her so dearly. He looks to Ameridan as an inspiration and drive to return home safely and make sure his companions are remembered. He is a templar and uses their abilities purely because it helps fight demons. He believes in the Maker and Andraste, but thinks the Circles are barbaric and the Chantry is flawed. Leliana as divine. Weapon and Shield, templar.

Mavheran Malarial. (They/he/she, 19 as of 9:30 Dragon). Dalish mage (modded) warden. After escaping from the Circles as a young teen, they lived in the Sabrae Clan as a hunter, using magic sparingly. After contracting the Taint, they went with Duncan, not trusting this Shem. However, after the betrayal by Loghain, they embraced leading the ragtag group of apostates, warriors, and rogues seeking a new path. They channel magic into their weapons, mixing ancient elven traditions with chantry magics. They fell for Alistair’s charm and humor, and found comfort with him. A good friend of Morrigan’s, they cured the werewolves, had the Alistair make the Old God Baby, made Harrowmont king, and destroyed the anvil. They now rule beside King Alistair as a beloved consort.

In Progress

Future

Hector Hawke. Trans man spirit mage. Devout Andrastean. Is rather pro-circle but is distrubed by Kirkwall’s overreaches.

#dragon age origins #dragon age 2 #oc tag

1 note · View note

tigerkirby215 · 2 years

Text

5e Nilah, the Joy Unbound build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Pan Chengwei. Made for Riot Games.)

youtube

Guys Nilah's balanced she's not a 200 years champion I swear this isn't my first time playing Nilah and the Ahri wasn't 13/2 I swear this is perfectly balanced there's absolutely no problems with Nilah as a champion.

Nilah is super fun but oh my lord she’s overtuned as hell. The funny thing is if they gave her like 400 extra health and removed all her free lifesteal and armor penetration she’d probably be more balanced overall. But cheers to another 200 years champion that can consistently 1v2 because memes I guess. At least she has a fun kit that’s interesting to recreate in D&D.

GOALS

My waters cut deep! - We need a whip. This doesn’t sound too special, but that’s kinda the main thing that’s special about Nilah.

Triumph and exaltation - We need to be able to heal by cutting down and cleaving our foes. Because what do you mean Nilah has way too many free stats just for existing?

That was fast; should I have held back? - Honestly recreating Nilah’s ult was probably the hardest part about her kit. I think I managed something... pretty good.

RACE

Nilah is a human (as far as we know) and even though I like popping out the Eberron subraces more-often-than-not making her a Variant Human is actually the better play. Increase both your Constitution and your Dexterity by 1, grab the Survival skill, the Infernal language (for talking to demons and devils.)

For your feat I’d love to grab one of the UA feats relating to water, but that’s not official not that it’s stopped me before. And Fey Touched is more generally useful: sell your soul to Ashlesh (who’s a Fey now, I guess) for +1 to your Intelligence, the Misty Step spell (for Flash), and the Hex spell! The main reason I’m going for Fey Touched is in fact Hex, as it will give you your main source of damage for the early levels, and can even carry your DPS late game.

ABILITY SCORES

15; INTELLIGENCE - There was a girl before Nilah; one who studied a lot. But she’s gone now, and Nilah is here!

14; DEXTERITY - You need Dexterity to swing a whip and slice through your foes!

13; CONSTITUTION - More like we don’t need anything else, and health is always good.

12; CHARISMA - Nilah’s... charming enough. People always love someone who smiles.

10; WISDOM - We just need everything else more and when most folk tales are about you doing something stupid you don’t tend to pick up on that wisdom.

8; STRENGTH - Again: we just need everything else more.

BACKGROUND

You were a Sage before making a deal with a demon to wipe your emotional spectrum and become a monster slayer... but the Sage background still fits you well for Arcana and History proficiency as well as some languages.

Honestly though I’d maybe swap your background feature with the Far Traveler trait “All Eyes on You” (that will get all eyes on you for being a hero from a far off land) or the Celebrity Adventurer’s Scion feature “Name Dropping” (that will allow you to mention some of the famous people you know and famous beasts you’ve slain.) Basically modify those backgrounds with Arcana and History proficiency because you don’t remember much about being a Sage.

(Artwork from Champion Insights: Nilah. There’s like no fan art of this character...)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ROGUE 1

Starting off as a Rogue for proficiency in 4 skills: Acrobatics, Athletics (because your Strength is bad), Stealth (because you’re a Rogue), and Perception (because why not.) You can also get Expertise in two of your skills and I’d actually suggest both Arcana and History, so you can know the tales of great beasts to slay them!

You also learn Thieves’ Cant to communicate about secret stuff in Bilgewater, and Sneak Attack. Basically if a foe is flanked or they don’t see you coming, you can get some armor penetration for an extra d6 of damage! If you fight alone the latter will happen more but the former is more likely while fighting with a team!

Now you may be wondering: Rogues don’t get whip proficiency. That is correct, as we’ll get the whip in a bit. But if you’re starting at level 1 you have a few options:

Beg your DM - The whip does piss-poor damage anyways and it’s only marginally better than a dagger anyways. I doubt any DM wouldn’t let you use a whip for flavor.

Don’t use a whip to start - A shortsword or rapier works just as fine, although you can’t keep your distance.

Just use the whip anyways 4head - The only thing stopping you from using a whip is your proficiency bonus, which is a mere +2 anyways. You can still swing a whip without proficiency FYI. It might not hit as often but if you want to stick to the aesthetic its your best choice.

LEVEL 2 - ROGUE 2

Second level Rogues get Cunning Action, letting them Dash, Disengage, or Hide as a Bonus Action. The first two are obviously more in-character for Nilah, and now you can double dash because what do you mean giving a champion Samira’s old dash twice isn’t good design?

LEVEL 3 - WIZARD 1

You were once a scholar, and unfortunately while Warlock would make more sense Wizard provides us with some magic that we need to recreate Ashlesh’s abilities. But first of all you get Spellcasting for 3 cantrips and 6 spells at level 1:

CANTRIPS

Seven hands means at least one can be lent to Mage Hand.

Prestidigitation is good for general demonic magic stuff.

Green Flame Blade may do fire damage but it’s the best way to get cleaving damage. At least from a cantrip.

SPELLS

Shield, Mage Armor, and Absorb Elements are all universally good for defense.

Detect Magic and Identify are useful to know what danger you’re walking into.

Tasha’s Hideous Laughter fits the character, I suppose. It’s also a good debuff. Honestly you can only prepare 4 spells and I’d just take the 3 defensive spells and maybe Detect Magic.

Arcane Recovery also helps you get some of your spell slots back on a Short Rest: an exact number equal to half your Wizard level (rounded down.) There’s some other things to explain about the ability but you can read it yourself to understand. The point is that you can get a spell slot back for Hex once per Long Rest.

LEVEL 4 - WIZARD 2

Second level Wizards get to choose their Arcane Tradition, and Wizard is my favorite martial class! Choose the Bladesinger for Training in War and Song to give you proficiency in the Performance skill, Light Armor which you already have, and most importantly: Whip proficiency!

Most notably however if you want to channel your inner hero with some demonic aid Bladesong will let you become awesome for a time. You can use a bonus action to start Bladesong, which lasts for 1 minute and ends early if you are incapacitated, if you don medium / heavy armor or a shield (which you shouldn’t), or if you use two hands to make an attack with a weapon. (But thankfully whips are one-handed weapons.) Alternatively you can dismiss the Bladesong at any time with no action required.

During Bladesong your movement speed increases by 10 feet, you get advantage on Acrobatics checks, an increase to your AC equal to your Intelligence, and a boost to your Concentration checks equal to your Intelligence. Basically you won’t get hit and won’t lose concentration. Theoretically. Anyways you can do this a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus per Long Rest, so don’t go picking too many fights.

Finally you learn two more 1st level spells: Feather Fall is a good defensive spell when scaling titanic foes, and Find Familiar will let you roleplay a Star Guardian a little better. Plus Find Familiar is a good spell.

(More images from Champion Insights: Nilah.)

LEVEL 5 - WIZARD 3

3rd level Wizards can learn 2nd level spells, and since we already have Flash we can concentrate on other things like Blur for your Jubilant Veil, and Wither and Bloom for a version of your ultimate that can be used at range! But really while Wither and Bloom is meant to recreate your ult using it at range for a cleave that can also heal an ally is rather useful.

LEVEL 6 - WIZARD 4

4th level Wizards finally get their first Ability Score Improvement and because you’re using a whip the Slasher feat is particularly good for kiting enemies. Along with a +1 to your Dexterity you will slow an enemy you hit with a slashing weapon (whips deal slashing!) by 10 feet once per turn. Additionally, if you score a critical hit your opponent will have disadvantage on their attack rolls until the start of your next turn!

Additionally you can learn two more spells like Rime’s Binding Ice to bind your foes in place (yeah duh) and Vortex Warp to pull a friend out of danger as needed (or pull them into danger!), and another cantrip like Message to keep in team chat.

LEVEL 7 - WIZARD 5

Third level spells time, and this is where most of the spells I want are! Start by taking Spirit Shroud to add a d8 to all your whip strikes (instead of just your attacks against one target, which makes it marginally better than Hex.) Alternatively if you need some sustain Vampiric Touch can let you lifesteal back to health. Vampiric Touch will force you in melee range (instead of letting you keep 5 feet back with your whip) but you’ve gotta get in the fight to sustain after all!

LEVEL 8 - WIZARD 6

6th level Bladesingers get an Extra Attack, because Wizard is my favorite martial class. What’s special about this Extra Attack is that it allows you to use a cantrip in-place of one of your attacks, meaning you can use Green Flame Blade with your first attack and still strike with your second attack!

And you can pick up your final two spells! Although you can always get more from scrolls or other such scholarly ventures. Ashardalon’s Stride is good if you need mobility and don’t mind the thematic weirdness of doing fire damage, and Leomund’s Tiny Hut is rather universally useful when traveling the world to slay mighty foes. A safe place to rest is always useful!

(Artist unknown. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 9 - ROGUE 3

Now that you’ve lived a little as a scholar it’s time for that bookish girl from Kathkan to die, and for Nilah to be reborn as a Phantom! Whispers of the Dead gives you a skill or tool proficiency you lack that can be swapped out during a Short or Long Rest, allowing you to be up for the task at all times.

But what we’re mostly here for is Wails from the Grave for some more cleave damage! When you trigger Sneak Attack you can choose another target within 30 feet of the original to take half your Sneak Attack damage in Necrotic damage. Talk about a big cleave! You can only do this a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus currently, but you needn’t worry: that will change with time. Oh and to top it off your Sneak Attack now deals 2d6 damage.

LEVEL 10 - ROGUE 4

More ASIs are fun. You can either increase your Intelligence for more spells prepared and a harder saving against your like... 3 spells that have saves. Or you can increase your Dexterity for more damage, hit chance, AC, initiative, skill checks...

Yeah you’re gonna want to increase your Dexterity by 2.

LEVEL 11 - ROGUE 5

Are your foes proving too much to face with just the Shield spell alone? Well Uncanny Dodge also uses your reaction, but you can use it to take half damage when struck! Save Shield for when you think you’re going to be hit multiple times, but if you take one big blow then Uncanny Dodge can help if you can’t block. I mean it only works against attack rolls you see coming, but it’s still a powerful asset. And speaking of powerful assets: you now deal 3d6 Sneak Attack damage, and since Wails from the Grave rounds up that now deals 2d6 damage!

LEVEL 12 - ROGUE 6

6th level Rogues get Expertise in two more skills. You can choose whatever you want (as long as it’s not your Whispers of the Dead skill) but I’d choose Athletics (because your Strength is trash but you can probably get your DM to allow you to roll Athletics for most Strength-based things anyways) and Stealth (because you are a Rogue, after all.)

LEVEL 13 - ROGUE 7

By this point you’re probably facing down foes that breath fire, acid, and all sorts of nasty things. Up your dodging skills with Evasion! The concept is simple: if you succeed a Dexterity save you take no damage, and if you fail you still only take half (instead of full damage.) No fire trap is going to stop Nilah, especially with 4d6 Sneak Attack damage!

(I think this artwork is official idk if it’s not please PM me.)

LEVEL 14 - ROGUE 8

Finally you can max out Dexterity! You need that crit chance for you free damage, lifesteal, armor penetration, and ally healing because what do you mean Nilah is overtuned?

LEVEL 15 - ROGUE 9

It’s about time you got to cleave more often. 9th level Phantom Rogues can grab Tokens of the Departed; trinkets to aid with your epic tales of heroism. You get a Soul Trinket as a reaction whenever a creature dies within 30 feet of you, and Ashlesh will grant you a number of benefits for having them.

You get advantage on death saves and Constitution saving throws. (CON saves in particular is nice because that helps you keep Concentration on your spells!)

You can use one of the tokens to trigger your Wails from the Grave, in case you ran of out charges for that.

You can also ask questions to the dead, although it might not be too useful as they’d rather just move on.

And to top it off with more Wails from the Grave your Sneak Attack does 5d6 damage, and Wails from the Grave scales up to 3d6!

LEVEL 16 - ROGUE 10

Rogue is a fun class because you get an Ability Score Improvement at level 10. You can now invest in your Intelligence for more AC and better concentration while in Bladesong! And more spells is nice too.

(Artwork by @MRmarraine on Twitter.)

LEVEL 17 - ROGUE 11

11th level Rogues get Reliable Talent which means I get to do the fun little thing where I list all the bare minimum rolls you can now get as a Rogue:

27 in Stealth

26 in Arcana and History

22 in Athletics and Acrobatics

17 in Persuasion

16 in Survival and Perception

And as an added bonus Sneak Attack now deals 6d6 damage!

LEVEL 18 - ROGUE 12

One last Ability Score Improvement means one last increase to Intelligence for capped-off spellcasting and AC while in Bladesong.

LEVEL 19 - ROGUE 13

Now Nilah can’t walk through walls... not currently anyways, but 13th level Phantom Rogues get Ghost Walk to walk through walls... and fly too because why not? And a hover? And all attack rolls have disadvantage against you? Wow, this overtuned ability that probably took 200 years of collective game design experience is perfect for Nilah! Especially since it lasts for 10 goddamn minutes and you can use it at any time with a Bonus Action if you have a Soul Trinket on hand.

Well at least your Sneak Attack does 7d6 now, which also means that Wails from the Grave does 4d6 due to how that ability scales upwards.

LEVEL 20 - WIZARD 7

(Funny sticker from Legends of Runeterra.)

Put bluntly Blindsense is bad, so if you hypothetically hit level 20 4th level spells are more useful overall.

Grab whatever you want; Evard’s Black Tentacles and Storm Sphere are good I guess. But we’re really just here for spell slots and better Arcane Recovery. Not like you’re going to hit level 20 anyways lmao.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Conquer the foe before you, no matter how great - You do good damage, and notably fight well against multiple targets unlike most martials. You don’t even need that much magic to cut down swaths of foes!

No foe can match me! - You also have great survivability with tons of AC from Bladesong and mobility to spare, not to mention that using a whip lets you keep your distance and you have tons of aid for your Concentration checks to keep your spells up.

I slay foes the size of mountains! You were... fine, I guess - While you have some nice tricks at higher levels you can get by with your lower level spell slots quite well, meaning that you won’t have to worry about running out of steam too fast.

CONS

True happiness lies in the heart of battle; let us claim it! - If you’re playing Nilah “as intended” triggering Sneak Attack might be hard. Sure it becomes easier with allies around but hiding with a whip can be hard. Sorta a “meta” issue I won’t lie.

I exist in but a single moment - It’s tough for you to keep going on a long day, as your spell slots will run out over time and you won’t be getting Tokens of the Departed until level 15.

Master one evil, then destroy the rest - You are going to be a very squishy Fighter with d6 hit die for a very long time. Before you get your Rogue abilities you’ll have a tough time keeping Concentration, your damage output won’t be great, and worst of all your survivability is really going to suffer.

But you are an ADC after all and it takes some grinding to become powerful. Slay the greatest of foes and tell the greatest of tales with many great allies at your side! Even if you can take down armies it helps to let others in on your epic as well, less you be taken down by a bat.

(Artwork by @beeccoe on Twitter.)

#dnd #dnd 5e #dnd build #dnd guide #League of Legends #League of Legends Nilah #Nilah #very #balanced #champion #200 years #dnd rogue

15 notes · View notes

heyiwrotesomethings · 4 years

Text

Lepidopterophobia Prt. Two

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: People seemed to like that oneshot so I made a part two! Here is a link to part one if you want a refresher or something (Link). Word Count: ~11,329 (Again, holy shit. I do not know how I wrote so much. I blame the demon encounter that I forced myself to put in this fic and the totally unnecessary OC interaction lol) Hope you enjoy!

Shinobu was getting worried now. It may have been hiding behind sweet smiles and teasing words, but the worry was there nevertheless, churning deep within her like an undercurrent of a seemingly calm ocean cost.

She and (Y/n) had made it a habit to write each other at least once a week since they met about six months ago.

Such letters always made Shinobu feel extremely happy and giddy. Even the estate residents could determine when a letter came simply based on body language alone, although the melodic humming also helped on that front.

Giyuu had even witnessed the change first hand by chance one day and he admitted that it was the freakiest thing he had ever experienced. Especially when she walked past him and actually gave him a compliment before continuing to hum and glide down the hall. Giyuu did not know how to conduct himself in this Shinobu’s presence.

However this week was different, Mochi had not arrived, there was no letter. Shinobu quelled the initial disappointment and anxiety. Surely (Y/n) just had a tiring mission and fell asleep while drafting her message. It wouldn’t have been the first time after all. But when the second week was nearing its end, Shinobu was starting to crack.

She was admittedly a bit unfocused. Her honey sweet tone was still there, but her speech was sharp and clipped. She spent more time in her lab doing research well into the early hours of the morning, becoming more unkempt as another new dawn brought no news.

Aoi made sure Shinobu would eat. She also made it clear that the Hashira needed to be taking better care of herself in general as the young woman sulked her way into the infirmary.

“You’re worrying the younger girls because you look like you’ll collapse at any second and Kanao might not say it, but you’re worrying her too. You’re causing us all distress,” Aoi had told her, not pulling any punches. “(Y/n)-san would not be happy to see you like this.”

“Well, she isn’t here now, is she? She hasn’t been here since her first visit. Why should I care what makes her happy?” Shinobu’s seraphic voice laced with poison replied, an insincere smile painting her lips.

Aoi scoffed and rolled her eyes. “If only I knew, Shinobu-sama. I don’t quite understand you’re attraction to her myself. Maybe you should try writing her again.”

“I’ve already sent two letters. I’m not so desperate for attention to try for a third,” Shinobu responded rigidly. “My crow has always come back empty handed so I know someone is getting my messages. What more is there to do?”

“Didn’t she say in her last letter that demon attacks were becoming more frequent in her sector? Just give her some time. She isn’t that big of an idiot to ignore you on purpose.”

“I’m growing tired of this conversation, Aoi,” Shinobu sighed. “I’ll be going to the lab and I do not wish to be disturbed.”

“As you wish, Shinobu-sama. I’ll send someone over with your dinner later though, and you better eat it.” Aoi replied as Shinobu walked out.

Kanao came to stand by Aoi’s side and flipped her coin, heads. “I have not seen Shinobu-neesan seem so visibly upset in a long time.”

“Yes, she must really like (Y/n)-san a lot, huh?” Aoi frowned, making another bed.

Kanao flipped her coin again, but remained silent this time around.

“Well, that idiot better respond soon. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

***

Shinobu drowned herself in her research well into the night. Balancing equations, messing with beakers and microscopes and reading copious amounts of botany and organic chemistry texts. She was so absorbed in her work that she didn’t notice the faint tapping at the door that led out onto the engawa from her lab.

The tapping persisted almost frantically as Shinobu inked down some notes until a loud squawking caused her hand to jerk across the parchment and ruin her page. She almost didn’t care though, she leapt from her chair and slid the door open with enough speed for it to clack against the stopper hard enough to echo across the garden.

She beckoned the familiar raven to take perch on her arm, cooing and lightly stroking the feathered breast of the large bird with a sincere smile and hopeful eyes.

“Good evening Mochi,” she cooed softly. “What have you and (Y/n) been up to these past few weeks?”

“(Y/n), (Y/n)!” The bird mimicked, enjoying the head scritches Shinobu was supplying him. He held a leg out toward Shinobu and she deftly untied the parchment from his leg.

“Thank you for this, rest here for awhile. I’m sure my crow wouldn’t mind sharing some snacks with you.”

Mochi cawed excitedly, flapping his way into the corner with Shinobu’s crow who seemed a bit miffed by the disturbance, but ultimately did not mind the presence of the larger bird she had come to know over the last few months.

Shinobu sat back in her writing desk and unfurled the parchment with a slight tremor running through her hands. As she began to read through the letter, concern laced through her features. (Y/n)’s tone was there. The words came off like hers, but the handwriting was unfamiliar, completely off. Each character was shaky, and stray ink splattered the parchment throughout the letter. There was no way (Y/n) actually wrote this.

The suspicious letter contained an apology for tardiness that was spun in a way that made it rather humorous and light without downplaying the seriousness of the apology, a skill Shinobu only knew (Y/n) to have mastered so well. The message continued on to talk about the high number of demons still running rampant in the area and addressed points made in Shinobu’s previous letters, but she still couldn’t get over the hand writing, it just didn’t sit right with her.

“Mochi, did (Y/n) write this?” Shinobu asked, knowing she was asking a lot of the bird to actually try to hold a conversation in a human language.

“No write, can’t write,” the bird croaked while happily eating some berries.

“Why can’t she write?” Shinobu asked, her brow wrinkled with concern.

“Forgot, can’t say, not supposed to,” the raven replied nervously.

“Mochi, what happened, is she hurt?”

Mochi shifted uncomfortably. “Healing, will be okay. Resting.”

“Is that why she didn’t reply sooner, she got hurt?” Shinobu was mostly just saying that to herself as she began eyeing one of her medicine cabinets intently. She walked over to it and opened the cabinet doors now going into full-on healer mode. “She hasn’t said anything in two weeks so it must be serious,” she turned back to the raven who jumped at the intensity of Shinobu’s gaze and attempted to hide behind the much smaller crow. “Tell me what happened Mochi. I need to know what I must bring.”

“Bring?”

“Yes, now how bad she Mochi, please focus.”

“Arms broken. Head hurts. Feverish. I worry, but she says fine.”

“Fine she says, I’ll show her fine,” Shinobu muttered as she packed the necessary materials, a vein protruding angrily from her forehead. “I need to grab some other supplies from the infirmary, don’t move a muscle.” she commanded before practically teleporting out of the lab.

Shinobu grabbed additional medicines and medical supplies, rustling about the cabinets like a tornado until Kanao came in with an inquisitive sheen to her eyes.

Still unnoticed by her adoptive sister, Kanao flipped her coin and only when she was sure of the result, she spoke.

“Nee-san, are you going somewhere?”

“Oh, Kanao,” Shinobu spun around, “I’m glad you’re still up. I’m going on a mission for a few days, maybe longer. Take care of things while I’m gone please.”

Kanao stared blankly for a moment before flipping her coin once more. Looking back up at Shinobu she asked, “Is this about (Y/n)-san?”

Shinobu faltered in her movements slightly, almost undetectable, but not to Kanao’s sharp eyes.

“How could you tell?” Shinobu smiled almost sheepishly, a faint dusting of pink coloring her cheeks. A sign she knew she had been caught.

“You never bring that much medical supplies on missions for simple demon slaying,” Kanao stated plainly. “I know you have been worried about (Y/n)-san lately. Aoi said it was only a matter of time before you took matters into your own hands.”

“I can’t get much past my smart and observant girls, can I?” Shinobu gave her usual default smile, though it looked a bit more prideful than usual. She closed up the final cabinet and secured her medicinal bag over her shoulder. When she approached Kanao she squeezed her shoulders affectionately. “Look out for each other, make sure Naho, Sumi, and Kiyo keep up with their studies as well. I’ll try to be back in two days tops, but it may take longer if (Y/n) insists on being difficult. Goodbye for now, my little sister,” Shinobu released Kanao and waited patiently as the girl looked at the coin in her hand.

“Bye Nee-san, be safe,” Kanao said after a moment. Shinobu’s smile grew especially warm when Kanao had decided to speak on her own without the aid of the coin. With one last nod, Shinobu left the infirmary with a new energy about her.

***

Shinobu ran through the trees until dawn, following after Mochi as he flew above. As much as she wanted to get there as soon as possible, the many sleepless nights over the past two weeks had taken a toll on Shinobu’s physical state. She admonished herself for being so careless. How could she take care of (Y/n) if she couldn’t even take care of herself? She called for Mochi to stop for a moment and the unusual duo took roost on one of the trees thick and gnarled branches.

“How much further?” Shinobu asked, trying to disguise a yawn hidden behind a small hand.

“Be there by midday if rest short,” the bird replied.

Shinobu nodded, drinking a bit of water and stretching before resigning herself to continue on despite her muscles’ protests.

When the sun was at its highest and hottest was when Shinobu saw the weathered home Mochi was circling over. On closer inspection she recognized the insignia of the Wisteria Houses and she couldn’t help but quietly scoff to herself.

“Oh? Hello young lady, how may I help you?”

Shinobu turned and found herself looking down at a frail old woman who was even smaller than her. Realizing she had been staring, Shinobu began to answer the patient woman.

“Good afternoon, I believe you are currently looking over the demon slayer (Y/n), is that correct?”

“(Y/n)-chan? Ah yes, poor girl. She had a rough mission awhile back, she’s lucky she was with a team that night or I’m not sure she would have made it. She’s resting now I believe, but please do come in,” the old woman replied with the sweet raspiness of someone who has lived a full life and turned back towards the house, her hands trembling as she pushed the door open. She ushered Shinobu into a chair and fixed some tea for the exhausted Hashira who graciously accepted the cup.

“It is a rare honor to have a Hashira in my home, may I ask what brings you here?”

“I’m here for (Y/n),” Shinobu answered, assuming that the old woman had simply forgotten already due to her age.

“Yes, is she training under you, a Tsuguko perhaps?”

“Ah, no. She isn’t training under me,” Shinobu denied.

“I apologize, I suppose I just don’t understand then, why a Pillar of the demon slayers is taking time out of her surely busy schedule to tend to a slayer of a lower level who isn’t even under her instruction.” the old woman questioned.

“I’m afraid that is none of your concern.” Shinobu answered with a tight lipped smile. Perhaps this old woman wasn’t as senile as she had previously believed.

“I’m sorry deary, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just that I saw you hopping after (Y/n)-chan’s raven and I thought you may have been the recipient of her sweetly composed letter. She asked me to write it for her you see. She had been fretting over what to say for days the poor thing,” the old woman tutted, raising her own teacup to her lips with a shaky grip.

“I see,” Shinobu nodded. “You are correct though, the letter was for me. That is how I knew that I should come.”

“That’s wonderful, Insect Hashira.” the old woman smiled.

“Hisa-san?”

Shinobu turned expectantly in the direction of the voice she hadn’t heard in months, unaware of the knowing smile the old woman was directing at her.

“Well, come with me young lady. The patient is in no shape to leave her bed,” Hisa explained motioning fo Shinobu to follow her down the hallway. Hisa approached another door and gave it a courtesy knock before sliding the door open.

“Hello (Y/n)-chan, how nice of you to join the world of the living again and look who’s here to visit you...”

Hisa made room for Shinobu to enter the room and the Hashira could feel butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she stepped forward.

“Shinobu!” (Y/n)’s eyes gleamed. She tried to sit up, but Shinobu glided over and pushed her back on the futon.

“Hello (Y/n), we have a lot to talk about,” Shinobu said with a smile, however the dark aura did not go unnoticed by (Y/n) as the heavily bandaged girl shifted her eyes nervously to another corner of the room.

“I’ll give you two some space. Have fun with your girlfriend, (Y/n)-chan,” Hisa waved before shutting the door behind her.

“Sh- We’re not- She’s not my girlfriend!” (Y/n) called back, clearly flustered.

“Oh my (Y/n), have you been embellishing the nature of our relationship?” Shinobu gasped, hiding a teasing smile behind her hand, feigning shock.

“No, of course not!” (Y/n) shook her head, trying to look anywhere that wasn’t Shinobu. She shook her head a bit too furiously, causing her to wince and groan.

Shinobu’s face turned serious as she inspected the bandages wrapped around (Y/n)’s head. Her arms were also tightly bound, slings kept the arms crossed firmly over (Y/n)’s stomach. Shinobu pushed (Y/n)’s hair away from her forehead to get a better look at the blood stained bandage. “When was the last time, Hisa-san was it? When was the last time she changed these bandages?”

“Um, maybe yesterday I think? I’ve been kind of out of it so I’m not totally sure.”

“Someone needs to hold these wisteria locations to higher standards if we really expect anyone to survive in their care,” Shinobu tisked, noting how the loose bandages easily came undone in her fingers.

“Hisa-san does her best, she’s really good honestly, we’ve just been dealing with a lot of demons lately so supplies are thin and more demon slayers have been coming and going than usual,” (Y/n) defended, taking a sharp intake of air when Shinobu’s fingers examined her head wound.

“I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it... This may sting a bit,”

(Y/n) hissed as Shinobu dabbed the head wound with a cold, wet cloth. Washing off the dried blood that was caked there so she could better see the wound. It was more like a large scrape, not a gaping wound as Shinobu had initially feared. “So, care to tell me how this all happened since you neglected to mention it in your letter?”

“Um,” (Y/n) paused to clear her throat, “I’ll try but it’s all kind of fuzzy in my mind.”

“Take your time,” Shinobu encouraged, replacing the bandage on (Y/n)’s head.

“Well, I was with an improvised squad, which isn’t uncommon, but this one guy was not having it,” (Y/n) sighed. “He was acting high and mighty all night. Talking about how the rest of us were slowing him down and just being an arrogant jerk.” (Y/n) recalled, an annoyed look upon her face.

“And how exactly is this leading up to how this all happened?” Shinobu smiled, moving to (Y/n)’s arms to get a proper look at the damage there.

“Oh trust me, he’s a major player in this mess,” (Y/n) huffed. “So anyway, we were tracking this demon, right? We followed its tracks to a cave in the side of the mountain range near a village and turns out there was a whole bunch of them in there—AGH!” (Y/n) jolted, a sharp pain caused by Shinobu yanking her left arm hard and fast, making it crack loudly. “Why the fuck did you do that!?” (Y/n) wheezed.

“Your arm wasn’t properly set. It may push your healing back a bit, but at least when your arm heals it will be in the proper position,” Shinobu explained, now moving her attention to the other arm. “Please continue your story.”

“Alright then,” (Y/n) grumbled, still feeling the bone throb under her skin, “So there was a bunch of them in the cave that came out to attack us and we were outnumbered, but they were relatively low level so it shouldn’t have been a problem. Then that arrogant jerk began using breathing techniques without any regard for the rest of us. He was using stone breathing I’m pretty sure, just one technique after the other and he caused a rockslide!” (Y/n) turned away from Shinobu and had a brief coughing fit from getting so worked up.

“Here, drink this,” Shinobu paused her re-wrapping of (Y/n)’s arms to hold a waterskin of medicated water to (Y/n)’s lips and the slayer graciously accepted, downing almost half the bag.

“Thanks,” (Y/n) sighed.

“You’re welcome,” came Shinobu’s sweet reply.

“So we were having to dodge boulders and fight the demons at the same time. One girl got her ankle slashed, ripped right through her tendon and she couldn’t get out of the way of the rockslide so I was trying to carry her away from the battle zone, but then that idiot got thrown in my direction and had the audacity to use the back of my head as a goddamn springboard to fling himself back into battle and I lost balance and fell forward face first into the dirt. The girl flew out of my arms and rolled a few yards and my arms were out in front of me. Before I could move, a boulder came in and crushed my arms,” (Y/n) explained, looking down at her newly wrapped arms.

“I think I would like to have a word or two with this slayer, is he still in this sector?” Shinobu asked calmly, a dark aura contrasting her tone.

“He is, but I’m afraid he wouldn’t be able to hear what you have to say, he was killed in the battle,” (Y/n) explained. “I didn’t see it, but that’s what Watanabe-san and I were told once we were brought back to safety,”

“Watanabe-san?”

“Oh, she was the slayer with the slashed tendon. We’ve been teamed up a few times in the past. She came here for medical attention but she had family nearby so she’s resting there.”

“She must have be grateful for your help that night, even if you ended up hurt as well, I’m sure she appreciated the effort,” Shinobu smiled as she finished whipping up a tonic for (Y/n)’s aching bones.

“She did, she offered for me to come with her to her uncle’s house but I told her I’d be fine here. I didn’t want to over burden her family.”

“You should have accepted, this place is kind of a dump,” Shinobu whispered with a conspiratorial smirk.

“Shinobu, that’s so rude!” (Y/n) whisper-yelled back at the mischievously smiling Pillar.

“Drink this, you’ll need to build up your strength before we can leave,” Shinobu commanded, pressing the lip of the cup to (Y/n)’s own.

(Y/n) nearly choked on the bitter medicine as Shinobu poured the contents down her throat. She shivered and made a disgusted noise when she finished chugging the mixture.

“That was terrible,” she wheezed, resting her head back down on the pillow.

“Don’t say that (Y/n), you’re hurting my feelings,” Shinobu mocked distress, “I worked so hard to make that for you after all.”

“I’m sorry, did I say terrible? I meant... tolerable, terrific! Thank you for helping me!” (Y/n) fretted, falling for Shinobu’s false grief.

“I’ll forgive you if you come quietly when it’s safe to move you,” she smiled, resting her palms on her knees.

“You keep saying we’re going somewhere. Where are we going? I’m not exactly in fighting shape at the moment,” (Y/n) lifted her slung and bandaged arms off of her stomach for emphasis.

“You’ll continue your recovery back at my estate of course. Did you really think I was going to leave you in this squalor?”

“I really wish you would stop insulting this place, Hisa-san works super hard and she is crazy fast and quiet so she could be anywhere!” (Y/n) shifted her eyes around the room before returning her gaze to Shinobu who seemed unbothered by the information. “I’m fine here, really. You don’t need to worry about me when you probably have more important things to do.”

“Are you questioning my discretion as a Hashira?” Shinobu’s smile grew, but failed to reach her eyes as she peered down at the slayer as if challenging her to speak against her plan again.

“No! Not at all, I just-“

“Great, we’ll leave tomorrow depending on your condition!” Shinobu clapped.

“But, the... the butterflies,” (Y/n) whispered, almost as if just speaking of them would be taken as an invitation to appear.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to protect you in your vulnerable state,” Shinobu smiled more kindly, “Who knows, perhaps we could add exposure therapy to your rehabilitation training.”

“Please don’t,” (Y/n) pleaded.

“I still don’t understand why you dislike butterflies so much. Surely when given the option to fight alone against a demon moon or be in the same room as a butterfly you would pick the latter,” Shinobu cocked her head at (Y/n) who seemed to genuinely be mulling it over and the sight exasperated Shinobu. “Really, (Y/n)? Do you really need to think about it?”

“They just freak me out, okay!” (Y/n) shrugged the best she could, “They flutter around and I can never tell where they’re going! They have those long, skinny legs and creepy eyes and weird curly tongue things it’s just— ugh!” She shuddered.

Shinobu couldn’t help but laugh, making (Y/n) pout and narrow her eyes at her. Even as the tinkling laughter died down Shinobu’s soft expression remained and she allowed herself to smooth over (Y/n)’s hair before gently running a cold knuckle over the bruised skin of the girl’s cheek.

“I’ve missed your antics.” Shinobu sighed, her seraphic voice betraying how tired she was as the small statement slurred together ever so slightly.

“You seem tired, have you been sleeping well?” (Y/n) asked while basking in the attentions of the cool, calloused touch.

“You know how our work goes. I’m fine.”

A knock on the door brought the two girls out of the moment and Shinobu turned her head just as Hisa came in with two bowls of rice and vegetables. Shinobu was briefly impressed by the old woman, of whom she had not sensed an approach.

“Lunch for you two, please enjoy,” Hisa crooned as she set the tray on the low lying table nearby. “And here is bedding and a change of clothes for you should you wish for them Insect Hashira.”

Again Shinobu was a bit perplexed over the old woman’s ghostly ability. How had she not noticed the bundle of fabrics Hisa only now seemed to have carried? Perhaps she was too tired Shinobu mused, watching the old woman set up the futon for her.

“I’ll be there in just a moment to help you eat, (Y/n)-chan.” Hisa smiled as she patted the covers smooth.

“No need to trouble yourself, Hisa-san. I can take everything over from here,” Shinobu politely waved her off. “Please leave the rest of (Y/n)’s care to me.”

“If that is what you wish. Call if you require anything.” Hisa finished setting up Shinobu’s sleeping arrangements before slipping out of the room and sliding the door shut behind her.

Shinobu hummed quietly and got up to collect the food from the table, opting instead to set the tray at (Y/n)’s bedside. She lifted one of the bowls and pinched a sprout with the chopsticks and held it before (Y/n)’s face. “Say ahhhh,” She taunted playfully, waving the food before (Y/n)’s lips.

“You don’t need to feed me I can do it myself.” (Y/n) could feel her cheeks heat up as Shinobu persisted with her actions.

“What a bold faced lie, (Y/n). Or perhaps you hit your head harder than I thought? You do see how tightly I bound your arms, correct? Now open up, we don’t want to make a mess now do we?”

(Y/n) looked down at her covered arms slung snuggly over her stomach and made a soft sound of embarrassment. She turned shyly to Shinobu and received the bite, looking away bashfully as she chewed and swallowed.

“See that wasn’t so bad. Have some more, your body needs fuel to help it heal.” Shinobu spoke cheekily and raised the chopsticks again.

Shinobu continued feeding (Y/n) bite after bite until the bowl was empty. Then she replaced the used bowl with the full one waiting nearby and began eating her own lunch. She still sat by (Y/n)’s side and shared in conversation as she ate. Despite the plainness of the small meal, Shinobu felt like it was the best thing she’d eaten in a long time. Though she suspects it was as Mitsuri often told her, it’s the company with which one shares the meal that makes it taste so much better.

Shinobu’s lips curl into a small, sweet smile as she watches (Y/n)’s eyelids droop. When (Y/n) attempts to hide a yawn with her shoulder, Shinobu helps her lay back down from her reclined position. She only teasingly stroked (Y/n)’s hair three or four times before the slayer passed out. The smile grew a bit more proud as she realized (Y/n)’s total concentration breathing persisted even in her sleep. Shinobu studied the exhausted yet, peaceful expression. Drinking in the face she hadn’t seen in months, she wondered how a girl she had only met in person for a short period of time could already have such a prominent place in her mind.

Shinobu stretched her arms over her head and popped her spine, releasing a relaxed sigh as the tension escaped her back. The many nights of minimal, restless sleep had really taken a toll. She shuffled over to her own bed roll, only taking a moment to remove her blade, hairpin, and haori before slipping into the covers and succumbing to a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

It was well in to the next morning when Shinobu finally stirred. She fought with herself to sit up, a soft groan of displeasure left her mouth as she left the heat of her blanketed cocoon. She lazily scanned the room, her eyebrows knit together once her gaze landed on the empty futon a few meters away from her own. Her ear picked up the faint sounds of a struggle coming from the next room and her senses went into high alert.

Shinobu got up and grabbed her saya, a practiced hand poised over the hilt of her nichirin blade, she edged the door open with her foot and—

“Ahh!” (Y/n) squeaked and turned away from Shinobu to cover herself with her rumpled uniform top.

“Oh, (Y/n),” Shinobu laughed, “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get dressed, obviously. Can you leave please?” (Y/n) asked, trying to shoo the Hashira away.

“How long have you been trying to fit your fitted sleeves over those thick bandages?” Shinobu asked instead, smirking and leaning against the door frame.

“...I don’t want to talk about it.” (Y/n) mumbled, her shoulders slouched.

Shinobu giggled and made to approach, picking up the discarded kimono that (Y/n) had worn the previous day. “Your uniform would probably make traveling more comfortable, but I really rather not have to unwrap your arms. I recommend you keep wearing this, at least until we get home.”

“But it’s not practical, what if we encounter a demon?” (Y/n) worried.

“No offense (Y/n), but no matter what you wear, you won’t be much help with a fight in your condition,” Shinobu gave a sympathetic smile as she held out the kimono and discretely eyed (Y/n)’s scar, the previous injury that had brought them together. “Of course, if you’d rather go topless who am I to judge?” She teased.

“Oh my gods, give me that!” (Y/n) took the kimono from an all too pleased Shinobu and nudged her toward the door. “It took me twenty minutes just to put on pants, sorry that I would rather not let that struggle go to waste.” (Y/n) grumped, frown deepening at Shinobu’s tinkling laughter.

“If you need any help, just ask. I’d like to leave while it’s still light out.” Shinobu called through the door.

Shinobu took her time fixing her hair and packing up her supplies, but once that was done she was pretty much ready to go. She pulled on her haori and accepted a late breakfast from Hisa and she casually taunted (Y/n) through the door as she ate.

Finally, the berated girl emerged from the separate room wearing the kimono and her haori draped over her shoulders, looking almost as exhausted as yesterday. (Y/n) loosely held onto her uniform which Shinobu took from her to pack tightly into her bag.

“Oh dear,” Shinobu tutted, “You already tired yourself out haven’t you?”

“I can still walk, despite everything else my legs somehow are fine.”

“In that case,” Shinobu reached out and pinched (Y/n)’s thigh causing the other girl to let out a surprised, slightly pained yelp.

“What was that for?” (Y/n) hissed, gingerly rubbing the sore spot through her kimono.

“For removing your slings. You could have upset the alignment of your arms.” Shinobu scolded gently as she moved to fit the slings back around (Y/n)‘s arms and neck. Once she was satisfied, she helped (Y/n) eat breakfast, which was technically lunch at this point.

Shinobu gathered the rest of (Y/n)’s meager belongings, most noticeably her nichirin blade, and hefted her bag over her shoulder. (Y/n) offered to carry it, but Shinobu refused. Once they were ready to leave, Hisa created sparks for them and wished them good fortune during their journey. Shinobu and (Y/n) thanked Hisa, bid her goodbye and headed out.

Mochi cawed joyously and flew circles around the girls as they walked through the nearby village. He was causing a scene, but (Y/n) let him have his fun. He was just excited to be out and about with his slayer again.

“(L/n)-san!”

(Y/n) stopped and turned her head, prompting Shinobu to do the same. “Oh, Watanabe-san, hi!”(Y/n) greeted the girl hunched over a crutch with a couple small children circling her. They had also stopped to stare up at the boisterous raven.

“You aren’t heading out on a mission right now are you?” Watanabe asked, worry evident as she hobbled closer. She hadn’t even acknowledged Shinobu’s presence, instead focusing her wide eyes solely on (Y/n).

“Oh no,” (Y/n) shook her head, “Just transferring health care facilities. Kochou-sama’s orders.” (Y/n) half joked, turning to the Pillar next her and finally tearing Watanabe’s eyes away from her to look over at Shinobu.

“Kochou-sama!” Watanabe gasped and bowed clumsily at the waist. “I’m sorry I hadn’t realized sooner-“

“It’s fine, your off duty. Relax.” Shinobu gave the girl a small smile. Watanabe released a relieved sigh and a polite ‘thank you’ before eagerly turning her attention back to (Y/n).

“Well, this was good timing seeing as you’re leaving already,” Watanabe chuckled nervously. “I was just coming by to thank you again for saving me that night.”

“No need to thank me,” (Y/n) replied bashfully. “We both ended up in bad shape by the end of the night. If it wasn’t for the others we wouldn’t have made it back anyway.”

“It still means a lot to me. We’ve been on quite a few missions together now and it feels good to know that I can trust you to have my back.” Watanabe explained, a small dusting of blush appearing over her cheeks caused Shinobu’s smile to subtly twitch. “And I love to have yours too of course!” She said. Then she paused a moment before trying to amend her statement, “I mean like, you’ve got my back and I’ve got yours when we’re killing demons and stuff!”

“Yeah, I got it.” (Y/n) laughed. “I’m glad.”

“Kawa-nee,” one of the young children spoke up, tugging at Watanabe’s clothes, “Is she that girl you talk about all the time? The one you think is really pre—“

“Is really pre, pre- professional and good at her job? Yes, that’s our (L/n)-san haha!” Watanabe squished the little boy’s cheeks until his lips were pouty and protruding harshly. “Little cousins, such a handful!” Despite looking horrified, she tittered and blushed, her hands still smushing the poor boy’s face.

“Can I pet your birb?” Another child asked from behind Watanabe, pointing to Mochi still screaming in the sky.

“Uh-“

“I’m afraid we need to keep moving along,” Shinobu interjected before (Y/n) could speak. “(Y/n) is already quite tired in her weakened state and I’d hate to have her traipsing around in the dark longer than necessary. Surely you understand.”

“Of course Kochou-sama, forgive us,” Watanabe ran a hand through her hair, her face beet red with a sheepish expression. “I guess this is goodbye for now, (L/n)-san. I wish you a full and speedy recovery. I hope to be fighting by your side again soon!” The girl spoke sincerely, “And you know, maybe hang out sometime...” she added quietly under her breath. It was something that clearly wasn’t meant to be heard but it didn’t escape Shinobu’s acute hearing as the Pillar fought to not roll her eyes.

“Thanks, Watanabe-san. I wish you an excellent recovery too, rest well,” (Y/n) beamed, seemingly unaware of the effect she had on her poor fellow slayer.

“Yes, goodbye now. Lovely meeting you,” Shinobu waved with one hand and placed the other at the small of (Y/n)’s back to usher her along. Even as (Y/n) got into a steady gait, Shinobu persisted with her touch and gave Watanabe a plastic smile over her shoulder before redirecting her attention to (Y/n), her fingers pressing a hint further into the fabric at (Y/n)’s back as she gently pushed her out of the small, bustling village.

***

They had traveled a few decent kilometers and the sun had passed its highest point. Mochi had finally grown tired of his circling and took a precarious perch on the slant of (Y/n)’s shoulder as she and Shinobu continued to walk through the twisted woods.

“Do tell me when you need to rest, (Y/n). I don’t wish for you to pass out on me, I’ve got enough things to carry as is.” Shinobu spoke, breaking the comfortable silence that had surrounded them for awhile now.

“I’ll be fine,” (Y/n) spoke with an ill timed cough.

“Perhaps a quick break is in order after all.” Shinobu frowned, placing the back of her hand on (Y/n)’s scalding forehead she winced internally. “You’re burning up. We’re pushing too hard, rest.”

“I can keep going Shinobu, really. I don’t want to slow you down any more than I already have.”

“(Y/n), I’m out here because I want to be. There is nothing more important to me in this moment than your well-being. Now sit under this shady tree, drink some of this medicated water, and rest.” Shinobu commanded, helping (Y/n) lower herself to the ground and offering a waterskin for the girl to drink from.

“Mmm ‘kay.” (Y/n) mumbled, too tired to argue further.

Shinobu simpered at the injured slayer then stood and turned to take in her surroundings. She looked to the trees above and counted veiny offshoots of the sun illuminated greenery above, killing time until (Y/n) could travel more ground.

I’m going to need to be especially vigilant tonight.

“ShinobuShinobuShinobuShinobu!”

Shinobu whipped her head around back to (Y/n) heart racing she was by her side in an instant and cupped the quivering girl’s cheeks in her hands. Her eyes switching between (Y/n) and the surrounding environment rapidly to try to understand what could possibly have upset her so- oh.

“Shinobu!”

“I see, I see. Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” Shinobu released the tension she had been holding and moved to shoo away the small black butterfly that was happily perched on one of the roots of the tree. She watched as it fluttered a few meters away to the trunk of another tree before Mochi spooked it even further away. She wanted to be mad at (Y/n), to scold her for scaring so badly over something that couldn’t possibly hurt her, but instead she smiled tenderly and crouched down to sit next to the quaking girl and pulled her into a caring embrace, having (Y/n)’s head rest in the crook of her neck.

“Don’t worry. I’m watching it, just focusing on your breathing. I’m here.” Shinobu cooed as (Y/n) hid her face in Shinobu’s chest.

True to her word, Shinobu watched the insect flutter around as Mochi attempted to chase it away. She found it odd that the butterfly would continue to stick around after being repeatedly dive bombed by the bird, but she didn’t think too much of it. Shinobu shifted her position ever so carefully to get a bit more comfortable since she could tell (Y/n) had fallen asleep. Whether out of stress or just plain physical exhaustion she wasn’t quite sure, but she’d wager that both played a part.

She allowed the girl to sleep a while longer, enjoying the simplicity of this rare peaceful moment and committing it to memory. They only had a few hours of daylight left now, so Shinobu begrudgingly patted (Y/n)’s back.

“(Y/n), it’s time to start moving again.” Shinobu’s seraphic voice called out.

(Y/n) groaned and shook her sleep addled head from her position on Shinobu’s shoulder, her nose grazed the side of Shinobu’s neck as she did so.

“(Y/n), night will soon befall us. We must go. However, once we get back to the Estate, you may sleep on me all you want if that’s what you desire.”

(Y/n)’s head shot up and she fell back against the roots away from Shinobu’s flirtatiously teasing smile, feeling the heat radiating off her face increase ten fold.

“Sorry!” (Y/n) stuttered out. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep!”

“No need to apologize, you looked very cute. So cuddly too,” Shinobu teased as she helped the poor girl to her feet. Before (Y/n) could reply, Shinobu pushed (Y/n) forward, her hand taking a now familiar perch over (Y/n)’s obi. “Let’s be on our way! Mochi, you can stop tormenting that butterfly now,” she spoke over her shoulder to the raven and watched him dive at the insect one last time before soaring above their heads.

“Why do you keep guiding me by the waist? I know how to get to where we’re going,” (Y/n) asked while staring warily over her shoulder at the black butterfly dodging a beam of light to continue lurking in the shaded grove.

“The forest floor is covered in gnarled roots and jagged rocks. I’d hate for you to trip and not be able to break your fall.” Shinobu explained. “Like that,” she giggled her whole arm now curled around (Y/n)’s waist as she pulled the girl back up before (Y/n)’s tripping could completely fell her. “You should really watch where you’re stepping.”

“But I need to watch the butterfly!” (Y/n) insisted, still looking back despite Shinobu’s advice.

“I’m standing right beside you.”

“What are you- oh, I see what you did there, Insect Pillar.” (Y/n) chuckled.

Shinobu continued to distract (Y/n) from her fear as they walked on. Telling (Y/n) about the last visit Tanjirou and his squad paid to the Butterfly Estate as well as an embarrassing story about Tomioka Giyuu that had both girls snickering at the poor man’s misfortune.

As dusk fell over the forest, Shinobu estimated they would make it home in a couple more hours. To travel by darkness wasn’t safe for numerous reasons, but at least they had a lovely full moon to light the way.

The conversation between the two girls naturally died off as the pinks and oranges of the sunset disappeared and night fell. It was necessary for them to stay alert of their surroundings, to be able to hear even the slightest shift in the wind beneath the near deafening songs of cicadas and crickets. Even Mochi flew high above the trees, silently searching for anything amiss.

(Y/n) shivered as a cool breeze shook the leaves of the trees and wished she could pull her haori more tightly over herself. She casually glanced to her left but soon did a double take, swiveling her whole head to the side and pausing in her footsteps. This alerted Shinobu as her hand stayed at (Y/n)’s back.

(Y/n) thought she had saw something. Something small and dark crossed the edge of her vision but whatever it was, if it was anything at all, was gone now. She turned to shake her head at Shinobu to communicate the momentary pause before they continued on the path with near silent footfalls.

They weren’t much further along when another dark shape crossed (Y/n)’s peripheral. Another chill overtook (Y/n)’s body and she could feel the little hairs on the back of her neck prickle to attention. She pursed her lips and side stepped out of Shinobu’s touch and stopped walking.

(Y/n) flickered her eyes between Shinobu’s and her blade twice. The Hashira interpreted the expression easily and poised her now free hand over the hilt of her blade as she scanned the thick woods around them. This part of the forest let in precious little light from the moon, only a few sporadic beams managed to kiss the cold earth below.

The cicadas and crickets had gone quiet.

Another particularly strong gust of howling wind rattled the leaves and pushed at the young slayers’ clothes and hair, yet still nothing emerged from the darkness. Shinobu and (Y/n) knew better than to lower their guard now however.

A few tense, painfully quiet minutes passed before (Y/n) heard it. A faint ‘fwtfwtfwt’ steadily growing in intensity. (Y/n) looked over to Shinobu who nodded in her direction. The Hashira had lowered her bag and (Y/n)’s sheathed blade to the ground in the nook between two roots of a nearby tree before withdrawing her own poison laced blade from its saya and holding it at the ready.

The noise grew louder, sounding like paper flapping rapidly in a windstorm and (Y/n) couldn’t stop the scream that shot out from her throat and escaped through Shinobu’s hastily placed finger tips that had been slapped over her lips.

Butterflies, at least a hundred if they had to guess, emerged from the darkness with the same inky black color of the one they encountered in the earlier that day.

(Y/n)’s lips quivered against Shinobu’s hand and the rest of her shook just as violently, yet her feet remained as firmly placed as a statue. Too consumed by fear to even think about bolting away.

There was nowhere to run anyway, the butterflies flew around them from all angles, more waiting just beyond the trees.

“You found my dinner have you, my lovelies?” A gravelly voice called from the darkness, followed by a sound that was like a dusty cackle mixed with a cough. “She moves rather quickly for being in such a weak state.”

A looming figure finally caught a beam of moonlight and (Y/n) wished desperately to have missed the state of such a miserable looking creature. It was a decrepit looking thing, a grotesque demon with two obscenely large, vacant compound eyes that protruded far from its face. The demon’s faded blue kimono was torn and frayed at the hem, revealing bare feet caked in dried blood and dirt. It was an old, ragged relic that paid homage to humanity long since lost.

“Ahh, there’s the damaged goods,” The demon smiled sinisterly at (Y/n), its bulbous eyes unmoving, “Just the scent of your fear alone is oh so delectable. I can’t wait to taste the rest!” the demon’s voice crackled, its neck craned to scrutinize (Y/n)’s form, a long, wire thin tongue escaped chapped lips for a moment in a poor attempt to wet them.

“Ara, what an abomination you are,” Shinobu taunted, stepping in front of (Y/n) to obscure her from the demon’s view, “You’ve really made a mess of things you know? I was going to help (Y/n) get used to butterflies but showing your repulsive form has surely driven her further into fear. I’ll have to dispose of you quickly for causing such a setback.” Shinobu spoke, her lips quirked upward in a kind of smile that somehow radiated pure anger and disgust.

“Be gone, slayer. Your blood is no good. My babies have whispered of you. They assessed you in the daylight, the girl is slowing you, leave her to me. You cannot protect her while fighting my kaleidoscope, leave her now and you’ll live to see another sun.” The demon spoke as if it was being most generous, even chivalrous, with its proposal.

“My, what ludicrous words you speak. I have half a mind to cut out your tongue over such a suggestion. My blade may not be suited for chopping heads, but for this purpose it should work just fine!” Shinobu leapt up into the trees, the sudden movement was followed by a swarm of black butterflies.

(Y/n) was breathing heavily, trying to regain total concentration with no success. She had no idea what to do. She had no way of helping Shinobu in her condition. There was nowhere to go-

“Mochi!” (Y/n) yelled out into the sky. The raven was busy avoiding a smaller swarm of demon insects, performing various swoops and dives to stay out of their way. “Lose those butterflies and go to the Estate! Get help!” The raven released a distressed caw, reluctant to leave his slayer behind, but with a few well made aerial maneuvers he spun away from the insects’ traps and flew off into the night. But not before squawking an ominous warning.

“Careful, draw much blood so sharp!”

“Blood, sharp? What-“

“Troublesome girl, by the time anyone gets here the only thing left to help with will be cleaning your entrails from the moss and roots!” The demon lurched forward, the motion encouraged (Y/n) to finally find her legs, bolting just before the demon could reach her with its gnarled claws. She could feel the displaced air from the missed swipe at her neck.

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck!” (Y/n) must have yelled the expletive a thousand times as she stumbled away from the hungry beast, between the length of her kimono and the binding of her arms her efforts alone would surely not be enough to escape.

“Run all you like, my babies show me all. Even now I see the other human hopping amongst the branches above looking for an opening she won’t find. It’s all hopeless.”

As the demon slowed its pursuit, butterflies flanked (Y/n)’s sides as she continued to run. She made a particularly hard turn and fell forward, having just enough forethought to twist so her back hit the ground rather than her slung arms.

As she tried to bring herself back to her feet, something caught her eyes that made them blow wide open. The butterflies that had been hot on her trail had been embedded deep into the bark of the tree she had ducked behind. As she processed the information the demon drew closer in the moonlight until its shadow loomed over (Y/n) who was still struggling to get up.

“You’re mine!” The demon snarled, unfurling its whiplike tongue.

“Dance of the Bee Sting: True Flutter!” Shinobu had re-emerged from the shadows of the trees at lightning speed, her blade poised to strike deep within the demon’s back.

The demon grinned wickedly, (Y/n) could see herself reflected in its gargantuan eyes, as well as another wave of butterflies flying around her in a beeline towards Shinobu.

“Sharp!” (Y/n) finally understood, but everything was happening much too fast. “Shinobu, stop!” (Y/n) screamed.

Shinobu’s breath hitched and she changed her trajectory at the very last moment to take a forward tumble and land a few meters away from the demon’s side. She quickly burst forward once her feet made contact with the earth and less than gracefully scooped (Y/n) from the ground, half carrying her as she continued to hop away.

“I hope you had good reason for that little outburst,” Shinobu’s voice strained as she tried to maintain her grip, her arms already aching. A familiar self loathing at her lack of physical strength bubbling to the surface.

“Shinobu, the butterflies’ wings are sharp enough to slice into trees. You would have been cut into ribbons if you flew into them!” (Y/n) hastily informed. “The demon said it could see through the butterflies, so even if its not looking directly at you, if there is a butterfly tailing you it knows where you are!”

“What an annoying creature,” Shinobu huffed, as she struggled to lean (Y/n) against a large boulder to help her regain her footing. “Long range battles are less than favorable.”

“It’s only a matter of time before it catches up again, what can we do? Mochi probably hasn’t even made it to the Estate yet,” (Y/n) murmured worriedly, mind whirring as fast as possible to come up with a solution.

“You needn’t worry, (Y/n),” Shinobu brushed her fingers over (Y/n)’s jaw and tilted her head so their eyes would meet, “I merely stated that long range unfavorable, in order to kill this demon, I’ll simply have to move so fast that it won’t matter if it can see me coming and remove those pesky eyes.” She smiled.

“But Shinobu-!”

“(Y/n), I certainly hope you aren’t doubting my abilities. Perhaps in your very lax use of titles and honorifics you’ve forgotten that I hold rank over you, yes? The highest rank a demon slayer can achieve?”

“I’m very sorry, Kochou-sama! That wasn’t my intention!” (Y/n) bowed awkwardly, a nervous sweat rolling off her brow.

“I didn’t say you had to stop being informal with me, just trust that I know what I’m doing, silly girl,” Shinobu smiled affectionately at her chagrined companion before spinning gracefully on her toes to face the dark abyss that was steadily growing louder, her nichirin sword at the ready, “Now, listen carefully and do as I say...”

***

A few moments later, they were under attack once again, the butterflies descended upon them in a flurry, but they were ready.

(Y/n) and Shinobu split off, a majority of the demon bugs swarmed after Shinobu as (Y/n) clambered back to where Shinobu had discarded her bag. It was still quite a ways off and (Y/n) could only hope the demon was as slow as Shinobu believed it to be. Sure, it seemed to take pause during a few points in its chase, but it could just as easily be toying with them.

(Y/n) nearly tripped due to a shallow hole in the dirt, but was lucky enough to regain her balance and keep going despite the disruption of her forward momentum. She must have cursed her useless arms over a million times in the last ten minutes alone.

“I really hope you know what you’re doing Shinobu!” (Y/n) hissed to herself as one butterfly got to close and managed to swipe her cheek, a streak of blood mingled with stinging sweat.

Finally she saw the discarded bag and her sword which she wished desperately to be able to use. She had no time to stop and figure out how to pick the bag up so she made a little prayer that her uniform would cushion the valuable vials Shinobu said were inside and kicked the bag high into the air, managing to catch the strap in her teeth, and kept running.

(Y/n) made a large arc around another thick grouping of trees and began making her way back into Shinobu’s general area. (Y/n)’s head and heart were pounding and her vision was blurring dangerously. And that was the least of her problems. Adrenaline or no, (Y/n) was sure she was at her limit and was going to crash very soon.

“I have grown tired of this game!”

(Y/n) cried out as the demon lunged from the shadows and tackled her to the ground, it’s mouth frothing and dripping foamy saliva onto (Y/n)’s kimono. (Y/n) managed to kick the demon off and she scooted frantically backwards, watching the angry monster crawl after her with its tongue lashing at her retreating ankles.

“This wasn’t part of the plan! This wasn’t part of the plan!” (Y/n) chanted to herself as she ripped one of her arms free from its sling, wincing through the pain as she straightened it and dug through the bag while still scrambling backward.

“Uhehehe! You’re little friend is busy with a special addendum of this demon blood technique of mine. I left her with enough of my babies to make a clone of myself. There are no obvious differences to be found, she will die believing she was truly facing off with me,” the demon cackled, fully clutching onto (Y/n)’s ankle and dragging her back, “little did she know I was really here, devouring her friend!”

“Devour this, bitch!” (Y/n)’s arm withdrew from the bag with a surgical syringe in her bandaged fist and stabbed it deep into the nearest eye of the miserable creature, draining the purple liquid into the gelatinous mass.

The demon roughly pushed the girl back and released a most horrendously shrill scream into the night. It reeled back on its haunches and clutched at its face.

“What have you done to me! My eyes! My eyes!” It bellowed, its eyes had begun to deteriorate at a rapid pace, a purplish red puss leaked from its tear ducts as it blindly grasped at (Y/n)’s legs. “I’ll make you wish you were never born!”

(Y/n)’s eyes clenched shut, she had no strength left to continue fighting, everything hurt so much she couldn’t even move to defend herself any longer. She could feel the hot breath against her neck, but then the sensation was quickly replaced with that of the cool night breeze and her eyes shot open to see a pure white haori flutter against her cheek.

“Kanao-san!” (Y/n) cheered, her expression one of euphoric disbelief.

“Where did you go you slippery little worm!” The demon shrieked, ripping madly at the ground with its claws.

Kanao stopped a safe distance away from the ranting beast and laid (Y/n) onto the grass and began assessing the beyond beat up slayer before her.

“Wait, Kanao-san, the demon needs to be dealt with and we need to find Kochou-sama.” (Y/n)’s speech was hurried and a bit slurred, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to stay present in the moment and (Y/n) was trying very hard to stay lucid to update Kanao on the situation.

Kanao stared down at (Y/n) then up at the writhing demon, then back down at (Y/n). She gingerly adjusted (Y/n’s neck and head so that she was looking back at her tormentor of the night and could see what was about to take place. (Y/n)’s heart filled with relief as a familiar blur, that was truly very blurry at this point, ambushed the demon from the trees. “She’s okay...”

“Dance of the Dragonfly: Compound Eye Hexagon!” Shinobu speedily stabbed the demon multiple times, injecting it full of her poison. She was absolutely furious. Not only had the demon wasted her time with that cheap parlor trick clone, it had left (Y/n) in worse shape than Shinobu had found her in the care of the Wisteria House.

She dug her heel harshly into the demon’s ribs once she got a good look at (Y/n) as Kanao tended to her. Shinobu’s jaw set tightly and she glared darkly at the demon writhing and gasping under her foot.

“You,” Shinobu spoke lowly. “I wish I could kill you a hundred more times, but this will have to do. I’ve used my most agonizing blend of poison after all.” She waited for the demon to release one final wheeze before stepping away, crushing a wilting remnant of a demonic butterfly into ash beneath her foot as she made her way over to Kanao and an unconscious (Y/n) with a visibly pained expression.

“Thank you for your impeccable timing and diligence. When I heard that scream I thought... You got to her just in time,” Shinobu knelt down opposite Kanao, beside (Y/n), checking over the girl’s body for any injury that could not wait to be dealt with.

“Mochi was invaluable. I wouldn’t have even known to come to the forest without him. He’s guiding a couple Kakushi here as we speak,” Kanao reported as she would upon completing a mission.

“I’m glad,” Shinobu twined her idle fingers with those on (Y/n)’s left hand and closed her eyes wearily. “I’ve done nothing but put her in danger tonight. She needs to be kept in hands stronger than mine.”

Kanao hesitantly reached out and covered (Y/n) and Shinobu’s joined hands with her own, meeting her sister’s curious gaze a bit nervously. “I... I don’t think (Y/n)-san could be in more capable hands than your own, Neesan.”

“She’s right.”

Kanao and Shinobu blinked at each other before tilting their heads downward to find half open (e/c) eyes staring back up at them.

“It was a strange and clever demon, it targeted me specifically because it observed my injuries and knew I’d be easy pray. If I had been at the top of my game, or if you didn’t have to worry about me, you would have been able to take out that demon much faster. It took advantage of us, so don’t belittle yourself, please.” (Y/n) smiled warmly and weakly squeezed Shinobu’s fingers.

“You’re too kind,” Shinobu gave a small smile in return, “Don’t strain yourself now, rest.” She spoke softly, but (Y/n) continued to babble in her feverish, exhausted haze.

“I just don’t want you to be sad, you know? You work so hard and you’re so cool and smart and beautiful so, yeah, gods I’m so tired. Imma take a nap righ’ here. Night.”

“(Y/n), (Y/n)!”

“Ah!”

Mochi had swooped in from high above the trees and landed on (Y/n)’s chest with wings outstretched and proceeded to hop around her torso and cry with relief.

Shinobu gently admonished the bird, offering her arm as a more acceptable perch as (Y/n) groaned and turned in on herself.

“Kochou-sama, Tsuyuri-sama!” two Kakushi called as they emerged from the trees, one cradled (Y/n)’s sword in their arms as they made their hasty approach.

“Oh gods, you again?” One of the Kakushi griped once he caught sight of (Y/n) on the ground. “You aren’t going to fight me when I pick you up again, are you?”

(Y/n) pouted and shook her head slightly, fighting to keep consciousness despite claiming that she was going to sleep.

“Shinobu promised to keep the butterflies away, it’s fine.” She mumbled, forgoing usual formalities that she would normally use in the presence of others.

“What do butterflies have to do with anything?” the other Kakushi wondered aloud, scratching their head with the hilt of (Y/n)’s blade.

“Just ignore her, it’s been a long night and I’d like to get home,” Shinobu waved them off, trying to distract from (Y/n)’s slip of her self proclaimed, ‘most embarrassing secret’.

The gruff Kakushi picked (Y/n) up and with a little help from Kanao, got her slung over his back.

“Ugh, everything hurts. Don’t bounce so much,” (Y/n) whined, her voice muffled by the Kakushi’s back.

“Quit complaining I-“

“Do be gentle with her please,” Shinobu interjected, she gripped the Kakushi’s shoulder and gave him a dazzling smile that shook him to his very core.

“Y-yes ma’am!”

***

(Y/n) awoke several hours later. She was disoriented, but clean and warm in the comfort of the Butterfly Estate’s infirmary.

“(Y/n)-san woke up!” Kiyo exclaimed from (Y/n)’s side, startling the girl from her haze between sleep and wakefulness.

“Hey, Kiyo, how long was I out?” (Y/n) asked the small girl at her bedside who was quickly joined by Naho and Sumi scurrying over from the opposite side of the room.

“You’ve been asleep for over three days since you got back. Shinobu-sama slept a lot too. Not as much as you, but once she had you taken care of she slept almost all day!” Kiyo informed. “It’s been awhile since Shinobu-sama has slept so soundly.”

“I’m glad she’s been resting. That fight was, kind of intense to say the least,” (Y/n) shuddered just thinking about that battle. She was sure she’d be seeing long, whipping tongues, bulbous eyes and razor sharp butterflies in her nightmares from now on. She needed to become even stronger. “Has Kochou-sama said anything about when my recovery training will begin to you girls?”

“Hmmm no,” Sumi shook her head.

“She just asked to make sure you don’t leave your cot and to call for her if your condition worsened.” Naho supplied.

“You are in no shape to even think about recovery training right now.”

Everyone jumped and turned to the door, observing Shinobu as she crossed the threshold into the infirmary. The younger girls parted for Shinobu, the Hashira took ahold of (Y/n)’s chin and jaw in one hand and gently turned it this way and that to check the cuts and bruises that marred the slayer’s face. She released a quiet, satisfactory hum seeing that nothing appeared infected. As she continued her evaluation, she continued to speak, “Your body has been through a considerable amount of stress to say the least. The way I see it, you’ll be out of commission for a couple months at the very least.”

“A couple months? But—!”

“Shhh,” Shinobu adjusted her hand to cover (Y/n)’s lips and stifle her protests. “I will hear no ‘buts’ about it. This is not up for debate. Now you will not leave this bed until I have personally cleared you to do so. Have I made myself clear?” Shinobu’s eyes stare relentlessly into (Y/n)’s, almost threateningly so, as she slides her hand to rest on the bedridden slayer’s shoulder, awaiting an answer.

“Crystal clear,” (Y/n) squeaked, trying to sink further into the bed. Shinobu squeezed their shoulder gingerly before withdrawing her hand completely with a satisfied smile.

“I’m glad you understand,” Shinobu hummed approvingly. “Now, you must be hungry. Girls,” she turned to Sumi, Kiyo and Naho, “see if Aoi needs help with dinner, please.”

“Yes, Shinobu-sama!” the girls nodded vigorously, waving goodbye before disappearing out of the room and down the hall with the soft thuds of tiny feet on wood.

“Can you tell me how you’re feeling?” Shinobu asked, directing her attention back to (Y/n).

“Hmm? Oh, I’m okay. Just, tired. Sore.” (Y/n) startled a bit, hoping it hadn’t been too obvious that she had been staring at Shinobu while the youngest girls of the estate took their leave.

“I see,” Shinobu hummed, setting herself to sit on the edge of the bed, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” (Y/n) flexed her ankle, hitting her foot against Shinobu’s side, “I wish you would believe me when I say that.”

“It’s hard to argue the contrary. I did take you away from the Wisteria House after all. As shoddy as the building is, at least the wisteria would have kept you safe.”

(Y/n) moved to kick at Shinobu again, but the Hashira blocked the foot, leveling a warning glance at the bedridden slayer.

“You know, I was really surprised when you came.” (Y/n) admitted, turning to look out the window. She flinched when she noticed the butterfly on the other side, but kept her eyes on it, watching. “It made me really happy, actually.”

Shinobu blinked, unsure of how to proceed. She didn’t need to however as (Y/n) kept talking.

“I had been looking for an excuse to come by, to visit. I didn’t know what you’d think. I thought that you were just fine with being pen pals and me showing up would be weird, and then I thought about the butterflies and I just lost my nerve every time I thought about it. And then I got hurt again and I thought the letter I had Hisa-san write would be good enough for you, but you came to see me for yourself,” (Y/n) paused and gulped nervously, still watching the butterfly as it was joined by another.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I? I just wanted to tell you that it meant a lot that you would take time to come look after me when your so busy. Even when it got dangerous, I can’t say that I regretted it because I was just happy to be with you— Eep!”

Shinobu moved from her perch at the end of the bed to lay over (Y/n)’s body, her face hidden in (Y/n)’s neck.

“Shinobu!”

(Y/n) felt rumblings over her neck and chest growing in intensity and although it hurt, she smiled brightly as Shinobu’s laughter racked her body.

“Thank you.” Shinobu chuckled once she had reined in her laughter. “That was very sweet of you to say. Aren’t you embarrassed to speak so candidly?”

“Should I be?” (Y/n) asked, nervously. “Oh gods, I didn’t read this wrong, did I?”

Shinobu rose herself to rest on her elbow, her other hand raised to silence the girl below her before her second guessing got too out of hand and tapped her nose playfully. The action drawing (Y/n)’s up to Shinobu’s filled with mirth and warmth.

“You have nothing to worry about. Relax, don’t over exert yourself.”

“So, you...?”

“Mhmmm,” Shinobu smiled, curing a lock of (Y/n)’s hair between her fingers, “so don’t stress. After all, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other while you heal over the next few months. And then, once you heal and are able to take on missions again, maybe you won’t have to think twice about coming over for a visit, hm?”

“I- I suppose not.” (Y/n) smiled bashfully at the butterfly goddess above her.

“Shinobu-sama, you’re going to crush her!”

Shinobu and (Y/n) whipped their heads to the door where Aoi, Kanao, and three mildly concerned young girls stood with food trays in hand.

“My, I’m not that heavy am I? Choose your answer wisely,” Shinobu cocked her head playfully in (Y/n)’s direction, watching her shake her head and laugh.

“Not at all my lady. No more heavy than a blanket really.”

“Ugh, is this what I’m going to have to put up with now?” Aoi groaned and rolled her eyes, placing a tray on the nightstand beside (Y/n)’s bed while fighting the smile that threatened to tug at her lips.

Aoi watched as the younger girls cheered and giggled, crawling on to the bed to chatter on about anything that came to mind as they ate their own dinners. Even Kanao had pulled up a chair, a relaxed smile on her face. Aoi begrudgingly pulled up her own chair, basking in the warmth of the moment despite the strange seating accommodations that certainly weren’t befitting of a proper dinner.

“So annoying.”

#kny oneshots #kny x reader #demon slayer oneshots #demon slayer x reader #shinobu x reader #shinobu kochou x reader #shinobu kocho x reader

421 notes · View notes

ayuuria · 4 years

Text

Yashahime Translation (Partial): Pash! Plus Interview 1/23/21

Please do not repost this translation without my consent! This includes screenshots of any type and amount. If you wish to share this translation, simply link to this post.

For more information regarding the use of my translations, click here.

This is another interview with the 3 voice actresses and many of the questions they asked have already been answered in previous articles which I’ve translated. Hence, I have only translated portions that are unique to this article.

“Hanyō no Yashahime” Interview with Matsumoto Sara, Komatsu Mikako, and Tadokoro Azusa! What “future development” are the three of them anticipating? “I want to see parent-child exchanges!”

— With every episode, various mysteries are gradually becoming clear, but is there anything that particularly surprised you?

All: This is difficult (to answer)! We’re surprised every time!

Tadokoro: For me, it was when Sesshōmaru-sama left without saying anything despite hearing Zero tell Homura “Burn that forest to the ground” in episode 15. I became uneasy thinking “It can’t be. Does he not love his children...?”.

Matsumoto: You would think that if you looked just at that part.

Tadokoro: I was also surprised by the story following that.

Matsumoto: The part where Inuyasha and Kagome were put inside the black pearl right? That part moved me like “Father…”. No, probably more like “understood” rather than moved. Like “Sesshōmaru-sama wouldn’t do something like that without thinking”

Komatsu: Sesshōmaru just doesn’t say important things after all.

Matsumoto: I’ve learned that he’s simply not good at talking.

Komatsu: What surprised me the most is something that actually happens later on. It’s a spoiler so I can’t say anything but… Riku’s identity is… *mumbles*

Matsumoto: We also just happened to overhear it (laughs)

Komatsu: It’s a topic we actually weren’t supposed to hear about (laughs) We truly aren’t told what’s going to happen until we get the script.

Matsumoto: Regarding the subject of Riku, we were surprised like “So that’s how it was!?” when we happened to overhear a keyword, so I think the viewers will be quite surprised as well. Look forward to it (laughs)!

Komatsu: It’s hinted at a little bit when Riku makes his initial debut…

Matsumoto: I think those who are perceptive would think “Huh?”

Komatsu: Then there’s the scene that I also said left an impression on me which is what Miroku-sama had been up to until now.

Matsumoto: Me too! I was also surprised that he properly aged.

Tadokoro: He aged well didn’t he (laughs). He was so awesome! I was curious as to what he was doing after the wind tunnel disappeared.

Matsumoto: I knew Miroku and Sango had kids from “Inuyasha” but the child rearing and conversations with them weren’t depicted, so I had wondered about that for a long time. However, seeing the communication with his son moved me like “You’ve become such a good father!” since he is my favorite character as well. That Miroku-sama hadn’t changed even after becoming a father gave me feels.

Tadokoro: Don’t you think the conversation between Kagome-san and Sango-san as fellow mothers was good too? Mom friends talk (laughs). I could keenly feel how Sango was looking out for Kagome-san when she said “Yours is going to be born soon right? Watch your step okay.”. As someone who plays Moroha, episode 16 is a must see!

Komatsu: We never had an episode that greatly featured Moroha’s past until then.

Tadokoro: It’s the episode where you learn why Moroha earns money. She had been asked once before “What are you going to do with all that money?” but she dodged the question.

— There are a lot of episodes that should be checked out (laughs)

Matsumoto: Episodes 14, 15, and 16 are pretty deep after all! (laughs)

Tadokoro: Indeed

Komatsu: They have a lot of information.

— Earlier, Matsumoto-san said, “I like Miroku-sama” so could all of you please tell us your favorite characters?

Tadokoro: My favorites are Kohaku-kun and Sesshōmaru-sama. Kohaku-kun went through something terrible and seeing him living a painful way of life by making himself a sacrifice made me think “I want to make him happy”. There’s also the major fact that I liked Yajima-san’s (Akiko) acting, so the feeling of tragic heroism oozing from his voice aroused a protective urge within me. Now he’s an adult and is firmly continuing the work of demon slaying… I feel proud for some reason (laughs). He’s become such a fine man…

Matsumoto: I love Miroku-sama and Naraku too much! Regarding Naraku, at the beginning, the shock of “There’s this kind of warped love!” was huge. While it started off as something suddenly lighting a fire in his heart for Kikyō, to think that from there things would end up going the way they did… The emotions that budded from a small happening became, more than anything, this big energy to Naraku and caused him to act the way he did. It’s probably strange for me to say, but I “learned” that that’s one form of “love” (laughs). In terms of Miroku-sama, I thought he was purely awesome. He’s the one person within the group whose position is really helpful. Figuratively speaking, the part of him that’s like the vice president and not the president of the student council is what I like. He’s the unsung hero who follows under the person who rampages the most. I also love the gap of how his tongue becomes sharp once you get acquainted with him.

Komatsu: While Kagome influenced me, my favorite was Kagura. She was part of Naraku’s group, but her heart wavered so much that you wondered “Was she really born from Naraku?”. There was something human about her. I think those born from Naraku were born from something Naraku had in the first place, so Kagura probably had the faint “human heart” that was in Naraku. I had a lot of empathy when she became the wind and was freed at the end. I could never forget the scene where she died attended by Sesshōmaru. It was precious in any event… Kagome is who I wanted to be but the one who stole my heart with her way of life was Kagura.

— If you were to apply Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha’s relationship to yourselves, what would happen?

All: It would still be the same (laughs)

Komatsu: It would relatively stay the same. How to put it, roles? For example, for Sara-chan, she’s a mood maker, friendly, and isn’t timid about anything. In a sense, she’s the commanding officer of the raid. I think she’s just like Towa in terms of position. Moroha’s character is very energetic with a lot of vitality and she’s completely inherited Inuyasha and Kagome’s blood. However, she’s the balancer among the Yashahimes. She reads the mood quite a bit and she has a territory where “she won’t proceed any further from here”. For example, when she didn’t talk about why she earns money. I think the part where she doesn’t fully open up at the beginning is similar to Koroazu-chan (Tadokoro’s nickname).

Matsumoto: I know! That’s exactly why you want to get to know her more. Like “Show us more!” (laughs)

— What do Komatsu-san and Setsuna have in common?

Komatsu: Setsuna is a child who can clearly state her opinion on serious matters. She calmly makes judgements and has a solid feeling for not talking when she doesn’t talk and talking when she does talk. I have a feeling I also make judgement calls of “I should stay quiet here.” Setsuna is probably listening to what other people are saying in scenes where it doesn’t look like she is. However, she purposely doesn’t say anything. She has the option of “Not answering”. She’s not silent because she doesn’t want to listen or respond. Rather, I think it’s a time when she’s thinking about various things to herself. I feel that I personally understand that very well.

Matsumoto: I think Setsuna is the “axle” of the three Yashahimes but even among the three of us, there’s a sense of “We need Mikako-san”. When there’s a problem, I look towards Mikako-san’s direction (laughs).

Tadokoro: Mikako-san calmly watches over everyone, so we end up relying on her when there’s a problem. There was a time when the three of us went shopping and I asked, “Am I buying too much?”. Mikako-san responded, “You’re buying too much” and I returned the item to the shelf (laughs). I leave the judgement to her and end up depending on her.

Komatsu: I’m unexpectedly not thinking anything though (laughs)

— What do the three of you think is the appeal of “Hanyō no Yashahime”?

Tadokoro: For those who enjoyed “Inuyasha”, they’re probably wondering how their favorite characters are living their lives. You can find out in “Hanyō no Yashahime” which I think is a big appeal.

Komatsu: In “Inuyasha”, the grudge against Kikyō and the romance with Kagome were components of the story. However, this time, a big component of the story is discovering their births and that’s what I think is appealing.

(translator’s note: There is more to this section, but these are the only sentences that I considered unique to this article)

— Thank you. Well then, please tell us if you have any anticipations for the upcoming development in “Hanyō no Yashahime”?

Matsumoto: I would have to say I want to anticipate both fathers doing something. If they were to come running when the Yashahimes are in a bind, that would make me happy.

Komatsu: I want to see parent-child conversations.

Matsumoto: That makes me nervous….

Tadokoro and Komatsu: Indeed! It does make me nervous!

Komatsu: I’m getting all sorts of wild ideas like what sort of conversation they’ll have or what things will they address.

Matsumoto: How will they address them when they meet face to face? There was an episode where Kagome address’s Moroha as "Moroha” but… If Sesshōmaru addresses me as “Towa”, I might have a nosebleed (laughs).

Tadokoro and Komatsu: (laughs)

Komatsu: Setsuna basically said “I don’t know who Sesshōmaru is!” during their conversation with the Tree of Ages (laughs). Even when she meets her father, she’ll probably say “So you’re Sesshōmaru”. But I want (him) to address her as “Setsuna” (laughs).

All: Basically, we want to see parent-child exchanges (laughs).

— Thank you very much!

#Yashahime #hanyou no yashahime #yashahime: princess half demon #translation

57 notes · View notes

dhampirslays · 3 years

Note

✂ - a vivid memory

" This is shit. "

My gaze rose to meet Hope's as she pushed her bedding off her legs and marched towards where I sat, legs folded one under the other and leaning back against the old wallpaper. For a moment, she stood tall before me, curiously observing the plate I had been trying to paint for the past few hours before taking it in her hands and carefully dumping it over by the window's wardrobe alongside the rest of my creations. With the curtains drawn closed, the area was illuminated by the dim light of our lamp posts, standing tall by the side of our beds, and what faint rays of moonlight managed to peek past the curtain's heavy material ― even so, Hope's face was cast with shadows, making it incredibly hard to read.

" Hey, I was working on that ! "

She didn't answer. Instead, she squinted her eyes on the plate, studying it. " Isn't that the Council's gift to the school ? And wasn't it hanging on the wall by the main entrance ? "

I grunted my reply, setting the brush and the colouring palette down. " They send one of those every year. I highly doubt they'll even notice one's missing. "

" There's like, a dozen of them here. "

" Exactly my point. "

Snorting a chuckle, Hope pushed the brush and the palette side, making room for herself to sit before leaning back and bringing her head to rest over my lap. A grin crossed her face as she grabbed a hold of the paintbrush, slapped it over to the side of my face before I even had time to turn away, let alone shelter myself. Casting her a pointing glare, I turned my head towards the mirror where my eyes widened double their size at the red line starting above my bow and descending in waves down to my cheek. My lips parted, ready to voice my protest when Hope rose her hand still holding the brush ― I watched it closely, ready to dodge if she felt like splashing colour to my face again, but instead, she tossed it away and I was simply left to stare at how the brush rolled upon the old, wooden floor until it bumped to the side of the carpet.

Blinking my confusion, I looked down at her. " What the hell was that for ? "

" If I'm going to die I ain't leaving them with a clean floor. They can clean it themselves. " She huffed, crossing one leg over her knee. " Aren't you nervous about tomorrow ? "

So that's what it was all about; the Tento di Cruciamentum, or, as us normal people who thought that Latin was a waste of time to learn liked to call it, cruelty test. At least that was its direct translation ― the Watchers always referred to it as the Test, possibly recognising that telling a bunch of teenagers that they were going to be cruelty tasted wasn't the best idea, especially since said teenagers had the power to burn the entire school to the ground. Personally, I always thought that cruelty was the wrong noun to describe it ― death, was a better fit for it, more so since it wasn't exactly guaranteed that if a slayer went in, she came out; in one peace, that was.

The process had changed ever since Buffy threw a fit about it when she had first undergone it, but the key points remained the same; upon maturity, the slayer was injected with a mix of muscle relaxants and adrenaline suppressors. When the drug kicked in and she was rented powerless, she'd be sent in to fight a demon ― and although the manual didn't exactly specify which type of demon it was, more often than not, it was vampires as they were considerably easier to subdue. The Watchers always bragged that it was more for the experience than anything else, claiming that whilst they were trained to fight, this was meant to establish intelligence; practical thinking. It was also meant to be a controlled environment but accidents had happened before. Or such they were listed as, anyway. The truth was that as long as a vampire was set loose, no one was really safe ― and a powerless slayer detained in a closed space with it was basically a snack with a bow.

I never thought it was about the experience though. They could have easily taken us out in the field to get that done. Rather, it was about control; seeing if, aside from the physical factor, we were in the right headspace, still capable to get the job done once we were past that age peak. It was like Hollywood but. . . deadlier.

And the changes the test had suffered ? We now got a one-week notice paper and an instructions manual. Some would like to argue that training Watchers didn't have a different fate since they had to undergo a test of their own, but at least theirs targeted their mentality. No one would come to rip them to shreds.

Alas, I nodded. " A little. Worrying about it won't change anything. " In fact, that was the reason why I had started painting that plate. To get my mind off the fact that in less than twelve hours, I'd either be alive and graduating or having a very heated conversation with Saint Peter.

" So you don't mind that they'll barge in, in the middle of the night, while we're asleep and inject us with God knows what ? "

I had to admit the thought was pretty unsettling. We knew what the syringe contained but, at the same time, did we, really ? I grabbed a wet tissue as I started to rub it all over my face, trying to get the paint off my skin. " They don't have a reason to further hurt us. They need us for the, you know, slaying thing. "

" No, they needed us. Past tense. Now there are too many of us and it's easier to pick and choose who you want. "

I didn't want to admit that Hope was right but. . . she was making some strong points there. Although the old council was thoroughly replaced, they were quite known for going to extreme lengths when it came to disobeying slayers, evident with what had went down with Faith Lehane. And back then, there were just two slayers, not an entire race of them. Admittedly, it'd make no difference now if one girl were to die while taking the Tento di Cruciamentum. The world had survived with fewer before.

Shifting beneath her, I moved across my bed before laying down, face-first into my pillow. This was all too much to think of in one night; I was tired and suddenly unsure of tomorrow. " I guess, " I returned, turning my head to look at her. " Will you stay here ? " It wouldn't make any difference if she slept in my bed or hers, given the distance between them was already short, to begin with. But, it would make me feel a little better knowing that she was there.

Hope stared at me for a good second before nodding her head and squeezing her way on the bed to lay beside me. Using one of the extra pillows for support, she then turned her back on me, as if preparing for look guard.

" G'night. " She sang. " Don't let the vampires bite. "

I felt like someone had run me over with a track, stitched me back together and then ran me over again. And had then dumped me on the floor.

With a groan, I rolled into my back before sitting up on the hardwood floor that creaked beneath me. Pressing a hand at the back of my neck where I still felt the biting of the needle, I looked around me in question.

The room didn't have much furniture in it; aside from the old fireplace that stood in the very back, there were two stray and broken into couches, a coffee table, and a longer, higher table a few feet from where I was standing ― other than that, the room was naked and judging by the cobwebs and amount of dust on the legs of the two tables, I could only assume this place wasn't used much. My head snapped back at the couches, where I squinted.

There were two couches in this room, and I had been left on the floor like a pile of dirty laundry. Worse even; at least the dirty laundry belonged in a hamper.

" Assholes, " I muttered under my breath as I slowly rose to my feet. They felt like they were made out of jello, and when they swayed off balance, I had to catch hold of the table before I found myself on the floor again. My body cried out for the strength it was missing, for the strength that had been taken away from it, and such was evident on my every waving step, slightly missing, slightly out of balance. I knew this was only temporary, that the power taken from me would be returned in a couple of days when the drugs wore off ― but for that to happen, I had to survive until then.

When I got the hang of human walk, navigating my way around the estate wasn't so bad. Turning left from the room I was previously in, I walked up to the door and gave its knob a hard pull; locked, and it wouldn't even budge. I tried again, praying to whatever mystical force or God there was out there to give me back my power so I can kill the demon and be done with it ― but, alas, the door stayed put ( if not slightly shake at its edges ). Sighing in defeat, I moved towards the door's little window to the right, hoping to at least get a sense of where I was, or, if that was too much to ask for, perhaps the time. Using my sleeve to rub upon the dusty glass surface, I grimaced in disgust at the dirt that was now plaguing my pajama sleeve before pushing my face against the glass, glaring outside. The other side was still smudged, still blurry but I could at least see the rays of sun peeking past the dirt. It was day alright, which meant that for the next few hours, I had the greater advantage.

Now, all I had to do was locate the demon.

Grabbing myself an iron weapon from the fireplace, I took the stairs to the upper floor. With the iron shovel in hand, I traveled from room to room, searching for my opponent. And yet, every room I checked was void of life ― or, non-life in this case. I came to a stop in the very last room, glancing around me puzzled, still in hand. There was no demon or anyone in general in that house. Did they forget to unleash it ? Or maybe the test on itself had changed and they had instead been monitoring my way of thinking ? They did say it required intelligence.

First, I heard its growl, and then, I got smacked across the floor. Crashing on the wall behind me, the impact had me seeing stars and flashing colours. My back, on the other hand, sent paralysing jolts of pains all the way up to my skull which, in their own turn, took a hot second to recover from. And when my vision returned to normal, I saw it ― him, whatever the vampire was anyway. One second he was in the middle of the room and then he was kneeling before me, black eyes eagerly taking me in curiously, hungrily, as if I was a sandwich in a glass case. And then he leaned down and patted my hair down like he was trying to fix what the impact had done to them.

I wasn't really sure I was breathing during that time. All I knew was that my heart was beating loudly in my chest and I could feel it all throughout my body.

Grabbing a hold of my shoulder, he pulled me up to my feet, and now I had the chance to study him as well. With matted dark hair, his dark clothes contrasted against his pale complexion, the dried bloodstains on his shirt indicating that he had been in there a while. And then, his face turned wrinkly, his forehead bumping out as his eyes turned a bright yellow shade and his fangs making an appearance. Swallowing past the deja-vus and the paralyzing fear it brought along, offered me a toothy smile before craning my head to the side, to expose my neck and very little bits of my shoulder as his tongue ran across his fangs. If I didn't feel like lunch before, I certainly did now.

" I look forward to this time of the year, " He sighed in content, voice slightly muffled by his fangs. " You'll have to excuse me if I skip the introduction. I'm so hungry and you look very delicious. "

My fingers tightened in a fist, brushing slightly against the wall and the curtain from aside; a longshot of a plan, but it was all I got ― and when his fangs were almost a breath away from my neck, I pulled on the curtains as hard as I possibly could. The rusty hinges gave in, the curtains fell onto the floor, and light, beautiful, sweet, light painted the room an orange-golden shade. The vampire screeched in pain and brought his hands up to shelter his face that was soon starting to smoke as he stumbled away, attempting to regain composure at the shadowy corner of the room. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I grabbed the shovel and bolted out of the room, despite the fact that my back was now painfully aching due to the prior collision.

I had some time on my side; judging by the sun's colours, it would take approximately twenty minutes until the sun would start to set ― twenty minutes that the vampire would spend trapped in that room ― twenty minutes to come up with a plan or I wouldn't live to see the next sunrise.

Panicked, I entered the first room I saw and locked the door behind me. Dropping the pliers to the ground, I anxiously paced up and down, as I ran my shaking hands through my auburn strands. Plan, plan, plan, I needed a plan. But nothing would come to my mind, and the room started to close in and spin around me and ―

Startled, I jumped up when someone started banging the wall to my left. Holding the shovel close to my chest, as if it was my very own bodyguard, I hesitantly marched up to the wall. Given how every single trust of the person behind it would echo into this room, this wall was fake; holding a wooden entrance door at the very middle, I tried its handle, slowly twisting it to check whether it was unlocked but at the same time trying not to alert the person banging behind it. The knob didn't nudge ― the door was locked.

" For fuck's sake, let me out, I'm hungry ! "

My eyes almost popped out of their sockets at the sound of the familiar voice. Scooting closer to the wall, I gave my hardest hit which, in this state, still wasn't enough to make a single crack. " Hope ? "

There was a pause. " Jo ? What's happening over there what are you doing ? "

" I'm having a vampire on my tail. " I explained the very obvious. " And I have approximately ten minutes before he eats me. "

" Shit, " She cursed. Then, another pause. " Is the door locked ? Can I come through ? "

" It's locked. " I sighed, staring up the wall in an attempt to come up with something, anything to join the rooms. Glancing down at the shovel, and then back at the wall, I frowned before I started to hit its door edge with it, watching as the surface dented in every hit I landed on it. " Hold up. " I called out before fully shoving the shovel inside the crack. Before today, all it would have taken for me to break through would have been a punch; and now, I had to dig through an entire wall just to get a small opening done. It was pathetic but alas, I put my whole body weight against the tip of the shovel, trying to force it to break through ― and it did; but it also took an entire chank of the wall with it.

Grabbing through the now enormous crack on the wall for support, I watched as Hope poked her head through it, glanced around the room, and then pulled back. A mere second had passed before I now saw two legs poking through, pushing and squirming around the crack in an attempt to wiggle their way into the room. It couldn't have taken more than a minute until she was fully in my side of the room, panting and undusting herself as she straightened her back.

I had the overwhelming urge to hug her, and cry, and hug her some more but the clock was ticking and we had now five whole minutes to figure out how to dust the vampire in the next room before the sun went down. With Hope here, my mind was more at ease; more capable of filtering through idea after idea before they all came crashing together to form a hint of a plan. I glanced back at the shovel, now cracked at the edges into a slightly sharpened tooth before I grabbed both it and Hope, dragging her downstairs. As soon as we were in the room I had first started in, I grabbed a hold of the ashy log, still inside the fireplace, and shoved it into the floor.

" What the fuck are you doing ? "

" Sharpening the log into a stake, " I curtly answered as I thrust the log into the floor, time after time until the burnt parts of it had given in to good, old wood. Exactly what we needed.

" How ? " She pressed, kneeling down next to the log, her interest peaked.

" With this, " I said, pushing the broken shovel forward. " We don't need it to be perfect, just pointy. Get to sharpening. "

By the time we had finished digging and sharpening, my nails and hands hurt. I was pretty sure some splinters had poked their way into my fingers, but alas, we had created a pretty solid stake. With a good hit, it could puncture the vampire's heart; it had the potential for it. After that, Hope left to hide with the stake and I, went upstairs to be the personal bait; to lure him downstairs so that she could deliver the final blow.

I didn't wander around for long before the vampire took a couple shaking steps out of the room, flashing me with a wicked smile. Even from a good distance away, I could smell the burnt skin, I could see the burning marks across his face and his hands. Facing the sun as he was, it was a wonder that he hadn't caught on fire on the spot.

" That wasn't very nice, little red. " He cooed, taking several steps towards me. For each step he took forward, I took one back until my hand rested upon the staircase's banister. His smile widened in the idea of a chase, of the thrill of having to chase your food before you ate it.

I set off in a run and the vampire followed closely behind me. Whereas my back ached, pulled with every step I took, the vampire only grew stronger, gaining more and more ground by the second. Finally, we made our descent in the staircase; I ran down as fast as my legs could possibly carry me, even skipped some stairs in hopes that it'd give me a small leverage but alas, just before the heel of my foot managed to hit the last step, something pushed my body forward and I landed with a grunt on the very bottom of the stairs.

I barely had time to roll upon my back as the vampire hovered over me, clasped his than around my throat, and squeezed until I was left gasping for a mere breath. Content with his victory, he loosened up his grip before, for yet again, growing his fangs but this time, wasting no time as he leaned down to bite upon my neck. I closed my eyes shut, body stiffening and ready to take the blow ― yet, the bite never came.

Opening my eyes, I turned my head to look at the man before me, frozen in place and with eyes double their size as he stared down at me. I moved my gaze to his chest, where the handmade stake was now coming through ― and not long after, I witnessed the vampire's body crumple and fall, its flash and bones turning into dust and dissolving over me.

Coughing the dust away from my face, I grabbed the hand Hope had extended for me to take and helped myself to my feet. My chest burnt as the oxygen flew back to my lugs.

" So that's done, " said Hope, shifting beside me. " How do we get out now ? "

" Grab the shovel and break through the window ? " I returned, brows arching. Following her shrug, I grabbed a hold of the shovel and walked up to the window, raising its tip to collide with the glass surface, but before I brought it down, the door to my left opened wide and a suited man walked in, fixing the collar of his jacket.

" No, no, that won't be necessary, please. Do not wreck the house more than you already have. " He scolded as if I was a toddler about to ruin my mother's finest vase. Extending his arm towards Hope and I, he added, " Poe Fillcraft, Council member. "

I didn't bother shaking his hand; neither did Hope. Instead, we just stared at him, the shovel still raised in my hands as if debating whether to start hitting him, or the window. I was still pondering my decision. Seeing that he wouldn't get a handshake anytime soon, he lowered his hand and cleared his throat.

" Having witnessed your examination thoroughly, I'm not sure how we feel about two slayers sharing one demon. It's possible that you'll have to reta― "

" Wait, " I cut in, brows furrowing into a deep frown. " You saw that ? "

" And you did fuck all to prevent us from dying ?! "

" Twice, " I pressed in, eyes narrowing. Would smacking a Council member with a shovel count as a serious offense ?

" Language, " He chastised Hope before sighing. " It was a monitored examination, we aren't allowed to offer help of any kind. " Hope scoffed in response and Poe's eyes narrowed at her frame before he continued; " I'm afraid you'll have to repeat the test. Separately. "

" That won't be necessary. " Mrs. Lovegood stepped in, offering both of us reassuring smiles. I waited, shovel still in hand until my hands started to grow sore. " The test is complete and the goal has been achieved. And besides, fixing and setting up the house would take a good couple of weeks, not to mention the test preparation and the syringe, and ― "

" Okay, fine. " Poe sighed, stepping out of the doorway. " You're free to leave. Don't forget to stop by the administration office to get your papers. "

Hope and I stepped out of the house. We walked down the stairs, and into the pathway to get back to the school but I stopped dead in my tracks. Instead, I turned around, lifted the shovel, and threw it across the window, watching as it broke the glass and tackled the curtain into the ground. Poe parted his lips, about to scold me for my outburst but Mrs. Lovegood shushed him by placing a hand upon his shoulder. Glaring at both of them, I turned on my heel, ready to follow Hope.

" Oh, and Joyce ? "

" What ? "

" I'd love to see those plates of yours. "

#( ❛ to feel alive: not just the carcass but the sparkle ❜ ― answered asks )#( ❛ tell me where to put the anger ❜ ― solos )#kennedybtvs #can you tell my braincells almost died during the end lmao

8 notes · View notes

braindeacl · 3 years

Text

Tidepool Glow | Eilidh & Adam

SETTING: Shrimp Hell. TIMING: Current. PARTIES: @walker-journal & @braindeacl SUMMARY: A hunter, a zombie, and a horde of shrimp demons from the depths of hell walk into a bar. WARNINGS: N/A

Adam drove the silver spear down again into a chink in the demon’s armored shell. The enormous pinned shrimp flailed, trying to reach the Hunter with its clays. The mouth of the creature's unnervingly human face opened far too wide as a long shrimpfish rostrum jutted out from its wailing throat. The spear-like protrusion retracted and shot out again as the demon tried to impale its attacker. But the Adam’s just twisted the spear, using his everage on the downed prey to keep out of the stabbing range of its horn. Eventually the thing’s spasms subsided and its paranormal signature winked out from the Hunter’s mind.

Adam knelt and whipped his spear off in one of the biolomunent tide-pools that seemed to extend endlessly in all directions. The ground seemed to be composed of colorful corals and shell-like structures that formed reefs the height of vividly hued mountain ranges in the far distance. The air was moist and thick with mist that occasionally glowed with the same bioluminescence of the tidepools. This luminous sea mist extended up into the sky, forming entire constellations of numinous flows and algae tides in the place of stars. Adam hadn’t witnessed any sun or day here yet, but the native life here gave off so much light that he had no trouble finding his way.

Adam felt a prickle of something paranormal of one of the reef hills, something much more intense than the general vibes that all this alien algae gave off. Thinking yet another of those people-faced shrimp were approaching, Adam readied his spear and sprinted up the ridge, boots crunching on weirdly colored muscles and polyps as he crested the coral hill and…

“Woah uh...sorry uh,” Adam said to the stranger below, pausing mid-motion of raising a silver-tipped metal spear over his head. “Hi I thought you were more shrimp…”

Eilidh had fallen. A curious peak turned disastrous, those swirling lights overwhelming. Beating against her temples. Balance lost, down she went. Opening her eyes, she was met with new light. Not the harsh type from the gateway—this was breathtaking. Where her body touched the water that seemed never ending, a glow was found. Outlining her form. Hugged by luminescence, and just as comforting. Fingers played against the watery surface—that same glow twinkled in the movement. She laughed, delighted. How wonderful! But when her eyes looked up to take in more of this new place, that laughter turned into a fascinated cooing. Shrimp! Shrimp? So much shrimp. They fell from the sky. They crawled around on the ground. At least, she thought they were shrimp. But they were far too large. And when they looked at her—something human looked back. The ones who met her gaze started to approach. Others were drawn by the sound of her laughter. Wonder was still clear on her face, but as the steadily growing swarm got closer, their speed increased in tune with their amount. With no signs of stopping on either accounts. She sighed. “Can’t ever be fucking simple.” She hopped onto her feet, brandishing a blade in each hand. Her teeth snapped together. Click.

Run. Slash. Run. Slash. A trail of death lay in the echo of Eilidh’s path. All the same, those shrimps remained in pursuit, dedication for her death never slipping, despite the death of their own. Reasoning through words or actions or fear would not work. This would be a long, long day. Or days if she wasn’t careful. She looked for that doorway back, but her searching gaze only found mist and more shrimp. As the blind scurry took her all over, a third option was found. Corals broke out from the water—misshaped and colorful hills surrounded by glowing valleys. Larger than would be expected. It was like everything here was too big to be contained in just this world. Finding a relatively flat-topped structure, she scurried up the rough texture. A shrimp was close behind, but it was met with a swift kick in the face. “Fuck off!” Another took its place, which was soon afflicted with a gash in its throat.

It was almost missed. Those sounds of a secondary fight. It blended well with her own, but as the wails and the gushes got closer, Eilidh realized they weren’t attuned to her own actions. She whipped her head behind, expecting to find another unfortunate soul. A flash of silver stole her attention. The weapon was cocked for a strike, unmistakably directed at her. She readied her own blades. A growl erupted from her throat. But his motion was quickly corrected, and they both gawked at each other. “…Was it all the pink?” She motioned to her attire: pink floral shirt with a skirt of a different shade of pink. Both covered in patches of a third, unintended pink: shrimp gut stains. “Who’re you?”

Eilidh eyed the kid: up and down, up again. The way he held that spear. Deadly weapon decorated with the remains of the slain. Clearly experienced. She kept her hold on each dagger tight. Her stare was finally broken, eyes darting to the side, then back to him. “Behind you.” Taking advantage of their distracted state, a shrimp creeped up from behind the other.

“I’m Adam Walker, a citizen from White Crest, Maine in the country of the United States of America on the planet Earth,” explained the young man in tactical gear, as if he fully expected to be potentially introducing himself to extraterrestrials and hadn’t yet ruled out the possibility that this pink frocked stranger was visiting from the andromeda galaxy.

A flicker of icy heat in his subconscious and Pink Alien’s warning gave Adam enough warning to drop down into a crouch on the coral’s damp coarse surface. A needle-sharp shrimp horn sliced into thin air where the Hunter had been a second before.

Adam rolled backward on the corals, wincing a bit as their sharp edges did a number on his neck. He drove the silver spear up into the less heavily armored underbelly of the shrimp- thing. The Hunter slowly stood, muscles taut as he applied leverage with mutant strength.The impaled crustacean flailed, spindly legs and swimmerets thrashing around the spear as Adam rose forced it onto it’s back.. Adam stepped onto the shrimp’s tail with a crunch. With merciless methodicalness Adam drove the spear farther and farther up the shrimps insides until frantic convulsions subsided into stillness.

“Hey thanks for the heads up. So why are you here in Shrimptopia?”

He was from White Crest. Of course. Only someone from there would casually be dressed head-to-toe as if the end times were nigh. Or purposefully jump into a giant, glowing vortex that led to worlds unknown. Which… Eilidh would kind of—mostly—be guilty of. She watched the ensuing carnage from below. Assessing this new acquaintance. Only a fragment of the skirmish was visible from her viewpoint, corals framing the blood-soaked picture. Attention divided between the battle up above and her own. A new opponent emerged, shrimp daring to cross the invisible threshold. Her foot found its way on its face, and its legs found themselves into her own. It smiled under her shoe. Without a wince, she just pushed forward, plunging a dagger into the creature’s blue eye. It almost relented, legs losing grip. With the twiiiiist of her blade, the claws slipped out, and it tumbled down the course surface—taking one more with it. Her skirt possessed new tears. Her leg gained new gashes. Click, click, click went her canines, with a ferocity and velocity not seen in humans. But no matter what, the shrimps just kept coming. And coming. And coming. And with each strike upon her body, she felt more alive.

After slaying his own adversary, Adam spoke, and Eilidh’s attention shifted more his way. “You can call me Macleod. From not here.” Within the moment of brief tranquility, she continued their previous exchange. “And I could ask you the same thing, tough guy. Fell through a glowing door, too? In Nordica Theater?” She turned briefly to the seemingly unending horizon. Tongue licked her blade, burst of endorphins coursing through as pink flesh fell down her throat. She readied her hand again. “Know how to get outta here?”

“Heya Mac,” Adam said, wiping shrimp organ juice off the spear. “Not fell exactly,” he admitted. “I’m tryin to find a way to close these rifts so White Crest doesn’t collapse into a hellmouth,” the Hunter claimed with a tone that suggested this was a common architectural failing. “So I jumped into Bubba Gump planet here to take a look.”

At Macleod’s question Adam pointed his silver spear across the delta plain of bioluminescent tide pools. The direction of the spear’s tip indicated what appeared to be a volcanic caldera, except its slopes consisted entirely of vivid coral. “In that coral bowl thing in a glowy lake, and inside the glowy lake is a giant hell crab-cockroach thing, and inside the giant hell crabroach thing is a portal.

Adam turned back to Mac. “So we’ll need the Mega-crabroach to eat us. Which is a rough time because the coral bowl has pistol shrimp guys who can.” The mighty Hunter clapped his hands in pincer motions in Macleod’s direction while making ‘pew pew’ sounds, perhaps to indicate this subspecies of Shrimp Demon had the ability of terrestrial pistol shrimp fire sonic blasts from their claws.

Collapse into a hellmouth. Not exactly the words Eilidh would’ve used, but the fact that Adam mentioned it so casually, so factually, as if it wasn’t a doubt in his mind. It didn’t bode well. That had been a possibility, a dreadful conclusion that sprung into her mind during her running abouts. But it had just been a possibility. Until now. Still a chance remained that he too was wrong, and the search to decipher this puzzle wasn’t so urgent. But if not, she hoped to be outside the limits. It would be one hell of a show. “Learn anything enlightening here? Besides what would happen if a human and shrimp decided to fuck.”

Instructed by the silver tip, her eyes travelled the landscape until it spotted the distant volcano. Only the silhouette greeted Eilidh, the swirls of mist and algae that suffocated the area stole the details away. But vapors dissipated, and the embellishing coral poked out like the morning sun. Grounded sunset overtook her vision, such a sight—colors of plenty and shapes of all—had been missed in the tunnel vision of battle. Attention fully placed, she didn’t want to turn it away, expression lifting into delight. But distractions were without consequence in such a place, and an opportunistic shrimp skewered her flank. As its rostrum pierced her flesh, her blade pierced its own, their gore mixing into swirls of black and pink. It tried to remove more of her innards, but it did not have the same luxury as she to be apathetic to injury, and it soon succumbed to its own. As it let out its last convulsions, she removed the head. The rest tumbled down the coral branch, same as the others. Ending in a splat. With a cough the only response to the gash on her side, she looked back at Adam. “Ah, like a matryoshka.” She nodded. He seemed to know a great deal about this place. Could he even be trusted? She couldn’t detect any hidden malice, at least directed at her, from him. And she was quite confident in that sense of hers, despite how often she was wrong—a fact she didn’t like to be confronted with.

The finale brought a subtle tremor to each hand. Recalling how well that went last time—why the fuck do I have to get eaten again, fuck this—she wished she had remembered to replace her used Bliss. She craved the sweet apathy it brought. Maybe it was all speculation, maybe this kid had no idea what the fuck he was talking about, and the gateway wasn’t inside a giant, sticky, wet, cave, cave, cave, cave, cave, cave. Breathe in; breathe out. Time to get this over this. “Race ya.” With a departing wink towards Adam, Eilidh scurred across the temporary refuge. Feet contacted with water, and the explosion of bioluminescence enveloped her in the night sky. Then, she was off, heading for the crater above. She bit into the newly acquired head, teeth straining against the protective chitin. But as flesh finally reached her tongue, fell down her throat, filled her stomach, her pace quickened.

Adam sprinted across the coral ridges that surrounded the bioluminescent tide pools, wondering if his zombie companion, as Eilidh had definitely pulled a Professor Beck with that impaling back there, could feel weariness. Unfortunately, he’d had depressing answer to her question about man-shrip fuck land.

“Sorry, just shrimp demons and wondering how this glowy plankton atmosphere works,” he answered before getting to the follow up he’d been asking everyone thus far on his interplanar journeys.

“Hey,” he called over to her as he dodged grasping claws that lunged out of a tidepool and retaliated with a prodding thus of a spear, before sprinting onward. “Have you seen a sorceress out here? The name is Nell Vural. Five foot five, about a hundred and ten pounds, brown eyes, and straight brown hair. Maybe rides a hell dog?”

The race came to a head at the foot of a slope composed of multicolored corals and mussels. Alien table corals rose tens of feet in the air like prismatic forests of mushrooms, some bearing small flourishing tidepools on their flat tops. Giant brain corals pulsating with inner light like contemplative boulders. These and other polyps Earth had no name for formed a great caldera reef with a hollow center, as if some strange eruption eons ago had filled these damp plains with a literal explosion of bioluminescent life.

“You ready?��

Eilidh’s eyes tightened at the question. What was a Hunter doing looking for Nell? Eilidh could recognize those maneuvers, the way Adam slaughtered his marks, his targets. His attire had made her suspicious, but his motions gave him away. And the way this Adam asked, worry seeping into every word, beyond what a hunter-related gig would entail. It planted a seed of worry in her too. Nell was a tough lady. Certainly she would be fine. Right? “No. Why? Is she alright?” She wished she knew more, questions swimming in her head, that curiosity biting at her lips. If she knew anything beyond what he told her, those lips would be sealed, though. She just met the kid. Hunters were a tricky thing.

The two headed for the promised gateway, their spot at the lead in an ebb and flow like the water below. He may have adept strength, but she was blessed with short-circuited nerves. He was strong, but she would not be slowed down by the pain. And pain they faced. And pain they dealt. More of those bodies found their spots in the water, blood seeping into the porous surface of the corals. Becoming one. If an outsider followed this trail of death, it would lead them all the way to the top—to the sought-after exit. As the end came to a close, she had become so distracted she wasn’t even sure who stepped upon the rim first. Likelihood pointed to Adam—realization of his nature, his background, caused her to fall back, to study. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. An involuntary growl erupted from her throat. In another time, another situation, another day, Eilidh would’ve found the place magnificent. It was like nothing she’d ever seen—blooming with life so familiar but not, colors so evocative, all like honey to her eyes. She may never behold such a sight again. But… it.

It tainted the area for her. So caught up in the thrill of the race and taste of carnage, she had let her mind escape acknowledging the inevitable. Eyes traversed the wondrous sights, the wondering thoughts, and instead focused on the glowing lake. That alone would usually alight her eyes in amazement, as if she too had the same glow. But what lay below turned it all to ash. In those radiant waters, the “mega-crabroach” waited. The gaping mouth. The gaping cave. She would have to jump into that. Willingly. Last time—and it pissed her off to recall again that there had been a last time—it had been so fast, so forced, she just had to accept it. There had been no time for nerves, and when nerves came it was done. She was out. How long would it take for her to get out this time? Would she get out? Can she get out? Why was she listening to this kid? Who even was he? Fucking hell, what was wrong with her right now? “If this doesn’t work. I’m gonna make your last moments hell.” Words grumbled under tense breath. Physically shaking off her discomfort, some of it melted away. She patted the kid on the back. But it functioned more like an instruction. “Youth before beauty.”

“Nell got abducted into one of these Hell Dimensions and I’m out to find her,” was Adam’s utilitarian summary of the situation before he broke into a sprint over the caldera’s ridge. His boots crunched on corals and muscles as he lept over brain coral, chitinous ferns, and bioluminescent anemones.

A sharp cracking sound was Adam’s warning before a brain coral exploded nearby, showering the Hunter with soggy shards as a shockwave of pressured air nearly knocked him off his feet.

Adam scanned the reef slope as his ears rang. Sure enough, he caught sight of one of the shimp demons staring at him from a tide pool about a hundred feet away, one claw engorged to a size that made the other look vestigial.

Adam waved his way down towards the hulking thing sleeping in the caldera’s nadir, leave a cacophony of explosions in his wake as the resident pistol shrimp demons sent sonic blasts after him with a frenzy of snaps.

That didn’t sound good. Tension found itself on her mouth. “Giant caterpillar snatched her up with crystal ooze?” Eilidh emphasized the point by moving a hand to her forehead and flicking her fingers forward, as if something were shooting out—similar to that mysterious creature and its mucus-projectile appendages. She understood better than most how formidable such a being could be. While the creature behind the door hadn’t put too much of a fight, at least in her brief encounter, its sheer size had assured its superiority in an immediate face-off.

Snap. The sound was all consuming. Eilidh shoved her hands into her ears, but the sharp noise maneuvered around this barrier like it was nothing. Ringing followed. But ringing she was used to. Eyes snapped at the direction of the attack. A pistol shrimp looked at them—if one were extraordinarily large and had an angry baby mask strapped to its head. Snap. Invisible wall blitzed passed her, threatening to slam and skewer her upon a nearby urchin. The air was scorching—hot enough to bring a warmth to her indifferent nerves. More of those shrimps arrived. Ready to attack. Ready to snap. In the shadow of her footfalls, the corals below were littered with impacts that seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

All this commotion awoke the slumbering giant. Vertical eyes peaked out from the water. Then its head followed, dripping with that bioluminescence, ripping apart that glow. Claws followed suit—lifting high into the air and crashing back down from the difference in gravity. Chunks of disrupted barnacle flung into the air, some striking those pistol shrimp, bludgeoning them to death. Adjustment came swiftly and those claws rose once more. Snip snip. They crashed down onto the surrounding area, but this time with deliberance. This time with a target. The two trespassers. Eilidh quickly sidestepped out of the way, barking out a warning to Adam.

An enormous claw bulldozed a furrow through the coral as Adam heeded Elidh’s warning, hurtling towards the mountainous blend of insectoid and crustacea as its forelimbs slammed down behind him. The Hunter vaulted onto the arm, letting the megacrab carrying him up. He stabbed the spear into a joint in the chitan to hold it fast as the world became a rushing blur of motion. Adam waited as the mass of chitin and many corded antenna swung its pincered arms wildly in an attempt to dislodge him. On the upward swing Adam caught a glimpse of the plains of tidepools stretching out beyond the Caldera like serene lakes of blue light beneath a numinous sky. The picturesque moment was broken by a stomach churning plummet back down as Adam’s bleeding knuckles whittened around the spear.

Adam made his move in the brief respite after the bone-jarring impact of the claw’s against the reef. The Hunter ran up to the shoulder joint, lodging the spear in a joint and pole-vaulting onto the flatter plain of the megacrab’s dark cerebral shell. Adam ran over the shell’s spinned frontal exterior and plunged his spear down into the crab’s eye. “Jump on in,” he shouted while hanging on against for dear life as the titanic crab mouth opened in panicked agony, a vortex of light churning at the back of its throat.

Where the mighty pinchers collided, craters formed, as if this mighty reef were afflicted by a concentrated meteor shower. There was always a delay, a second where the claw became one with which it destroyed, before returning to the air. Ready for another strike. And it struck yet again, as expected, and that second came to pass, as it should. But before it could return to the air, Eilidh hitched a ride. Feet struggled to find hold, fighting against the wet slick of the claw and the stiff twitch of the beast. As bearings were finally found, it no longer mattered—she was flung into the air. Her body whacked twice against the creature’s back before gravity drug it down, straight for the waiting abyss.

Hands replaced feet in that fruitless struggle. Blades joined the fray, but they banged helplessly against the uncaring chitin. Before she could slip into the water below, lost in that luminous pit, a dagger jammed into one of the creature’s old battle scars. Decent stopped. Feet found their footing much quicker, having learned from the previous ordeal. She ascended, following the streaks of her near plummet, until coming upon the head. Scream filled the air, and for a moment she mistook its origins for the creature. Its mouth too was wide with anguish. But its screams were silent. The sound was too familiar, too human. Eyes tore away just a moment to settle on Adam, the true source. He dangled just above–

The gateway.

“Don’t be a lil’ bitch.” Eilidh grumbled to herself, her nerves. Fear nearly froze her in place, with a tingling the only reminder she still lived, still breathed. But the constant bucks and thrashes of the beast thawed her limbs into action. Forced them to. Not giving her nerves the chance to trap her again, she jumped. Let gravity do its work on her as it did before. All she had to do was fall. Trajectory sent her straight for Adam, her shoulder colliding into his body. For just a snap of a moment the two were suspended in that tense air. But it was all too much for the creature’s eye. Pressure forced the puncture the spear pressed in to widen, and with that the traction was lost. The two fell. Back to the light. Back home.

#tidepool glow #chatzy #;— interactions #ft. adam w.#wickedswriting #whoo!

10 notes · View notes

bnhayyy · 3 years

Text

The Call (6)

Chapter Title: Heartache

Wordcount: 2.8k

Fic Tag: Click

Ao3 Link: Click

Chapter Summary: Mikasa tells Annie about her past.

Notes: Alright! So this chapter is a little on the short side. The next two chapters will be as well, having originally been one super long chapter that I cut into three for the sake of themes and pacing. But on the bright side, yesterday I posted a Yumihisu one-shot that takes place between the second and third scene of chapter three, so be sure to check that out if you haven't seen it already. Once again, thank you to Celadon for betaing this chapter! And if you’re enjoying this fic, please consider joining my writing discord or buying me a ko-fi! You know, ko-fi. The thing that exists so monetized tumblr doesn't have to.

The week following the visit to the club passed by in a blur. Annie watched as Mikasa doubled down on trying to hunt Ymir, only for none of her efforts to bear fruit. For good reason. The whole time Mikasa hunted, Annie carefully walked the line of looking helpful while contributing nothing.

Her faked efforts and need to preserve the scapegoat for as long as possible canceled out Mikasa's genuine zeal.

Or maybe Ymir was just better at this than they were. The results were the same either way. It looked like they weren't going to see Ymir again until she was ready to be seen.

Krista had proven herself to be both a help and a hindrance.

Annie hadn't seen the girl since that night at the club. Art was the only class she shared with her, but a little snooping had revealed that she hadn't been to any of her other classes either. Apparently, she had been calling in sick. Although they had been able to find the apartment building she lived in, they hadn't been able to get her exact address, and Mikasa wasn't quite ready to break into every single apartment in her quest to find Ymir.

Or confirm that Krista was still alive.

Annie noticed that Mikasa's anxiety had subtly grown with every day that they didn't see Krista… just not enough to make her break the law. For her part, Annie didn't press the matter. Seeming too willing to break into someone's apartment could set off all kinds of alarms. Besides, it was good that Krista was making herself scarce. If she had decided to stick around and give Mikasa ideas about Ymir's innocence, Annie really might have had to act.

That didn't mean that she was in the clear. Even if she was staying away for the time being, the fact remained that Krista Lenz was an unknown factor in a carefully calculated equation. Ymir too, for all that her little group had been using her presence to their favor so far. They had the potential to throw everything off balance if they decided to get involved. For that reason, they had decided to crack down on as much as they could.

Getting phone taps set up was a risky, tedious, and nerve-wracking process. However, by the end of the week, the phone in Smith's office, Smith's landline, Smith's cellphone, Mikasa's phone, and even Jean, Connie, Sasha, and Armin's phones were all bugged. Annie still had to find an opportunity to get Smith's friend's phones, but she planned on taking care of it soon.

Annie didn't know what to make of those two. An overly energetic watcher and a grouchy little demon hunter, the meeting Smith called to introduce them to everyone had been dominated by the former rambling while the latter glared at anyone who dared to look at him for more than three seconds. She didn't understand how Smith would mesh with personalities like theirs. Yet watching them for a little while had made it clear that the three of them were close. Genuinely close, not like the act that she, Reiner, and Bertolt put on.

Or the lie that she was building with Mikasa.

***

Annie: Patrolling tonight?

Mikasa: Of course

Mikasa: I'll be at your place at 7

***

It was 7:15 when Mikasa arrived. Annie may not claim to know her well, but she had gotten to know the last slayer well enough over the past few weeks to know that being late was unusual for her. She raised an eyebrow when she opened the door for her, allowing it to ask her unspoken question.

"Armin was over," Mikasa said as she stepped inside.

"I see," Annie said, closing the door. "You seem... close."

No. That wasn't right. One of the first things she had learned about Mikasa was that she wasn't truly close to anyone, Armin included. Annie leaned against the door as she reconsidered her phrasing. "You seem like you could be close," she settled on.

Mikasa stiffened. She turned to face Annie, but instead of making eye contact with her, she looked down at the bag that held her slaying supplies. "Yeah," she said, voice soft, but too vague to make out any specific emotion. She clutched her bag to her chest, probably unthinkingly. If she knew that she was holding onto it like a comfort and a shield, god knew that she probably wouldn't let herself. "If things were different, we probably could be."

Annie frowned. So that was the problem, the mindset that she and Reiner had been working so hard to cure her of. (Just in time to snatch her life away from her.) "You keep him at a distance because you're the slayer," she surmised.

"No," Mikasa said, causing Annie to blink in surprise. "It's because of..."

Mikasa hesitated. At least, that was what Annie thought was happening at first. As the seconds dragged on, she saw that whatever she was thinking about seemed to be actively causing her pain.

Annie frowned and stepped away from the door. She wanted to know about Mikasa, but not if it forced the other girl to dredge up painful thoughts. Annie was already going to be enough of a shadow on her existence. If it eased her suffering a little, she was okay with the other slayer dying a mystery. "Hey," she said, "you don't have to-"

"No," Mikasa cut her off. "You deserve to know this." A shadow of resolve fell over her expression as she spoke. She clearly wasn't happy about whatever she was going to say, but that wasn't going to stop her from saying it.

Annie felt something warm flicker in her chest. Maybe it was respect. Maybe it was admiration. Whatever it was, it was helpless to change the course of events. She still acknowledged it, because there was something to be said for someone who was willing to face things that they knew would hurt them.

This feeling was probably the closest that Annie would ever come to self-sacrifice, the selfish, cowardly person that she was. But she could still allow herself to look at that light.

For as long as it was allowed to burn.

"Do you want to talk in my room?" Annie asked. If Mikasa really was about to spill her guts, then a degree of privacy was the least she could offer her. It was the only thing she could offer her.

Mikasa swallowed heavily and nodded. "Yes please."

Annie nodded and turned to lead her down the hall. The room at the very end was hers. It was small - all of their rooms were. Their organization had paid for them to rent a small house so that they didn't have to take the additional risk that would have been killing someone and occupying theirs, but they hadn't been willing to spring for anything extravagant. At least it wasn't hard to make people believe that a trio of college students could afford to rent it.

If Mikasa had any thoughts on how sparsely decorated the room was, she didn't voice them. Annie lead her over to the bed, where she sat down on one end while Annie took the other. There they sat, Annie trying not to stare too intensely at the other slayer as she waited for her to start. For her part, Mikasa was clearly trying to gather herself. She stared distantly up at the ceiling as she ran through whatever thoughts might be racing through her mind.

Finally, Mikasa shifted her gaze to Annie. "I met Armin through his best friend," she said. "A boy named Eren Yaeger."

Annie frowned. Barely anything had been said, yet she already got the sense that it was more complicated than that. The look on Mikasa's face made it impossible for her not to.

"There was a home invasion when I was fourteen," Mikasa continued. Her voice was gaining a distant quality, like she was trying not to get caught up in the memory. Based on what she was saying, Annie was all but certain that really was the case. "My parents were killed and I was abducted. Eren ran into us when they were forcing me into the car."

Mikasa paused. Her attempt to distance herself from her emotions must not have been working, because something in her gaze fractured.

Suddenly, Annie had a horrible feeling about how this story ended for Eren.

"Eren saved me," Mikasa managed. "He killed two of my abductors, and when the third arrived, he gave me the strength to kill him myself."

Mikasa had killed someone? A human being? Annie tried to keep her surprise from showing too readily. She must have failed, because Mikasa paused, fresh hesitation written across her features.

Annie gave a tiny nod. "It was understandable, given the circumstances."

"That's…" Mikasa faltered. "Eren said that they didn't count as human beings."

"I suppose he might be right." Of course, by that logic, she probably didn't either.

Mikasa nodded. Whether she was agreeing with Annie or simply recalibrating herself, she did not know. The slayer pulled herself together and continued before she had a chance to make a definitive guess either way.

"After that, it looked like things might be... Eren wrapped his scarf around me and said I could come home with him." Mikasa's expression was blank in a way that could only be forced. However, something in her eyes said that she was struggling to breathe. "That was when the vampire showed up. I didn't know that I was the slayer yet or understand what that meant. But I think he knew, somehow, and wanted to kill me before I could become a problem. It was me he was after. But he was harder to fight than a human, and I was scared, and Eren... he wouldn't let him take me without a fight."

For half a second, Mikasa zoned off, her gaze focusing on some point over Annie's shoulder. She snapped back to herself before Annie could figure out if she should say something. It made her wonder if she didn't want any interruptions.

No. It was more likely that she just wanted to be done with this story as soon as possible.

Annie understood the feeling.

"The vampire knocked both of us unconscious," Mikasa continued. "He must have taken the car keys off one of the dead men's corpses, because when we woke up, we were in the trunk. We tried to get out, but it was no use.

"He took us out by a cliff looking over the sea. He went for me first. Eren didn't like that. I tried to fight the vampire off and told Eren to run, but I couldn't... It wasn't..."

Mikasa started blinking as she fell silent. Annie would have been horrified to see the normally stoic slayer struggling to hold back tears if she weren't surprised that she hadn't started crying sooner.

"You were fourteen," Annie whispered. "You didn't have any training or know what you were dealing with."

Even fourteen-year-olds with years of training and who knew what they were dealing with would have a hard time against a vampire. How much had she struggled against Bertolt and Reiner when she was that age? She had been one of the best human cadets in the organization and Bertolt was far too prone to trying to go easy on her, but it was still hard. It might have been easier if she had already been called back then, but even that wouldn't have been enough to make up for the fear and ignorance if she hadn't been aware of the supernatural.

It seemed that Mikasa didn't see it that way. She shook her head and murmured, "I still had the strength of the slayer."

"Raw strength isn't everything," Annie insisted.

"Maybe not," Mikasa said. "But it should have been enough.

Her gaze drifted back to that spot over Annie's shoulder for a moment. Annie couldn't begin to try to gauge the look in her eyes, especially since it was only visible for a short moment. Her eyes switched to something far more shuttered and closed off in an instant.

"I was thrown over the cliff and into the ocean," Mikasa continued. "I thought I was going to die. And for a moment, I did."

The slayer's eyes closed as she remembered the moment, and Annie was foolishly tempted to do the same, just to acknowledge the event that allowed her to come into being.

Even if Annie herself had only become a slayer two years after Mikasa's death. She wondered, did Mikasa realize that some poor, unknown, short-lived slayer had come between them? She must have. Annie had already said that she was called in 2016 back at the meeting. The lost slayer was probably going to be one of those things that no one talked about, for those who realized that she'd even existed.

Just like Eren Yaeger.

Mikasa opened her eyes. "The cliff was by a park," she said. "Someone must have heard the commotion, because emergency services arrived and resuscitated me. But it was too late for Eren.

"Armin and I met at his funeral."

Annie felt her mouth go dry. What could she possibly say to that?

Perhaps it was a good thing that Mikasa wasn't done talking yet.

"There were holes in my story. Most of the adults brushed it off as trauma, but not him. He asked what really happened, and I was still weak and scared. I told him everything, and he... he offered to help me. I said no, but I did reach out to tell him when I killed my first vampire, because it was... it was the one that killed Eren.

"I thought that would be it for us, but he kept reaching out. Kept trying... to be my friend." Mikasa paused, the fragile expression of someone caught between hope and longing fluttering across her face before she remembered to shut it down. "And I want to. He's... Armin is good. But that's exactly why I can't let him get close. Erwin may have had a point about him knowing how to defend himself from the Supernatural, but I want him to stay as far away from this as possible. And..."

You can't see him without thinking about Eren, Annie thought.

She understood. That was exactly how she had felt about Porco in the months after Marcel died. That was how she felt when she looked at the vampires she'd been abandoned with for a while after Porco and Pieck disappeared. Armin may have been a good person, but he had also been Eren's best friend, whereas it sounded like Mikasa hadn't even known him for a day. If being around Armin was painful for Mikasa, then she could only imagine how it felt for him.

How difficult must it be to build a genuine friendship around a barrier like that?

Impossible, if you weren't even willing to try.

"...It's complicated," Mikasa finished.

"Sounds like it," Annie murmured. "But... it also sounds lonely."

This, she also understood. That understanding did not make her any less of a vile thing. It did not stop her from taking advantage of a moment of vulnerability and loneliness to draw the other slayer closer to her. Closer to her eventual doom.

"It is," Mikasa admitted. Her words were slow and measured, holding all the weight of an unbelievable, life-changing confession. "But it's... less with you around, I think."

Annie's heart did a funny thing as it tried to stop and speed up at the same time. "Is it?" she asked. The dryness in her mouth was back. She wanted to move closer to Mikasa, even though there were a million reasons why she shouldn't.

"Yeah," Mikasa said. "It's... it's nice having someone around who understands what it's like to be the slayer." Her lips twitched into a small, bittersweet, but genuine smile. Annie's eyes lingered on them. "I'm glad that I met you, Annie."

Annie swallowed heavily. "Me too," she lied. In that moment, she wished that she had never met Mikasa Ackerman. She wished that she'd never even heard of her, that she and her companions had continued with their lives utterly unaware of her existence.

She wished that she didn't have to kill her.

She wished that she didn't want to kiss her so much.

Annie shifted back, only then realizing just how close she had gotten to the other slayer, and stood up. "It's getting late," she said. "We should get patrolling, if you're still interested."

Mikasa nodded, snapping out of whatever trance had fallen between the two of them. "I am," she said.

And that was that.

Or so Annie told herself. Because although she wanted to believe that it was a fluke, that she had caught herself and would be able to continue walking her predetermined path, unwavering and unstoppable...

...In her heart of hearts, she could not deny the tension, that there was tension between them for the rest of the night.

She couldn't quite convince herself that it was gone come morning.

#mikannie #mikasa ackerman #annie leonhart #snk #attack on titan #my fic #my writing #the call

8 notes · View notes

cascadena · 4 years

Text

Rekindled - Prologue & Ch 1

SUMMARY: Post-BotW. Zelink. Hyrule now turns to an exhausted Princess Zelda to pick up the fragments of the fallen kingdom. Link, who is still piecing together his own past and traumas from his own journey, realizes that he has to be the one to help Zelda back on her feet. Together, they travel the land to begin the rebuilding process, and uncover a new, mysterious threat along the way...

GENRE: Adventure, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

WORDS: 44K

STATUS: Complete

RATING: T for Teen | Contains Action/Violence, Blood, and (Of-Age) Alcoholic Beverage Consumption, Kissing Scenes.

[Read on FF.Net] - The ENTIRE story is already posted there for your reading pleasure!!

[AO3 Posting coming soon!]

PROLOGUE

Link

The clouds of malice curling above me dissipated upon the Princess’s eradication of Ganon, leaving behind an untainted sky that shone with a more vivid blue than I had seen since awakening from my slumber. Rising from where I’d landed with my paraglider after sending the final ancient arrow right into Ganon’s core, I rubbed a particularly sore spot on my right shoulder where Calamity Ganon managed to land a more severe blow with an ancient blade in our duel at Hyrule Castle. The bleeding had slowed from my adrenaline rush but it would only hold off the pain for so long. I gripped my arm as I cautiously approached the girl whose voice I had only heard in my mind since my revival. Though we’d just destroyed the malicious Calamity Ganon, my heart still beat quickly in anticipation of the reunion with the beautiful girl from my memories.

The Princess lowered her arm, facing away from me as she took a slow, deep breath. I flinched when she began speaking. Her soft voice was just audible over the whips of wind as the last of the malice storm cleared around us.

“I’ve been keeping watch over you all this time… I’ve witnessed your struggles to return to us as well as your trials in battle. I always thought—no, I always believed—that you would find a way to defeat Ganon.” She paused for a moment as she seemed to consider her next words. “I… never lost faith in you over these many years,” she said.

Finally, she turned. A strangely familiar warmth pulsed in my chest as she faced me for the first time since I died in her arms a hundred years ago. Her small smile was familiar to my memories. I wondered how in the world I’d ever been able to keep my focus on the demands of my duty to protect her in the past.

“Thank you, Link...the hero of Hyrule.” Her expression softened. I nodded and swallowed a smile, unable to speak as hot tears welled in my eyes. Zelda seemed to notice, and a weight visibly lifted from her shoulders as she clasped her hands in front of her. “May I ask… Do you really remember me?”

“Yes, Your Highness, I do,” I managed to reply, but my voice cracked as a tear escaped down my cheek. Zelda smiled as she clasped her hands over her face as she suppressed a cry.

“We’ve finally done it,” she breathed, and then her balance shook.

Within a second of seeing her waver, I leapt forward, just in time to catch her in my arms as her legs gave out beneath her. I cushioned her as the weight pulled us both to our knees. I wondered if holding Hyrule’s Princess so close was proper for her Appointed Knight. However, when I felt her arms tighten a little in gratitude around my shoulders, I knew it was acceptable in this circumstance. “Even now, you protect me from any harm when it threatens me,” she said into my shoulder.

A smile dared to cross my face, until I realized my wound had begun to bleed onto the back of her dress. I inhaled sharply as the pain began to throb. The adrenaline was wearing off for both of us.

“Link!”

My head flipped to the right towards the source of the voice. A covered wagon charged towards us from the East. I instinctively reached to the hilt of the Master Sword at my shoulder but relaxed when I saw a familiar girl hop out and run ahead of the caravan to meet us.

It was Paya. The Sheikah had come to help us.

CHAPTER 1

Link

Everything that happened next was a blur. The Sheikah caravan halted and Dorian and Cado jumped out to assist Zelda into the wagon. A million pains began pulsing through my body.

“M-Master Link… We left as soon as we heard the rumble of Vah Ruta’s laser,” said Paya. She took one look at my arm before she fetched a makeshift bandage from the wagon and handed me a water skin. “Please, let us assist you…”

We began the journey back to Kakariko Village, where the Sheikah could help us. I insisted on riding Epona, my horse, to give Zelda more space in the wagon, as the exhausted Princess had passed out shortly after being helped inside. Epona was a tough girl, and though she was exhausted from the battle with Ganon, I knew she could make it to Kakariko after Paya fed her a hearty mix of swift and endura carrots.

Epona followed the wagon on a lead as we made our way towards the Dueling Peaks. Hyrule seemed so peaceful as usual, and I briefly wondered if any of the civilians were even aware yet that the calamity had finally been destroyed. Surely, the Sheikah weren’t the only ones to witness the Divine Beast lasers fire.

I glanced into the open flap on the backside of the wagon and could see Princess Zelda sleeping in a shaft of sunlight. Her mouth hung open as she curled up on the cushion inside. After a hundred years of fighting off Ganon, her nap was well deserved. Looking upon the exhausted Princess in her dirtied, bloodied prayer gown, I felt a wave of guilt pass through my gut and my jaw clenched. If I hadn’t fallen a hundred years ago and just slayed Ganon back then, she would not have had to suffer and fight for so many years.

Her pain was a result of my own failure.

I knew I would have to apologize to her at some point. But how could one possibly apologize for a hundred years of suffering and a fallen kingdom? My thoughts began to drift as my consciousness faded away with the rhythmic thud of Epona’s trotting. The shadows of moblins, guardians, and lynels flashed through my mind in a hazy dream as my brain processed all I’d just endured. I had fallen asleep on horseback a few times previously, but never for very long stretches of time. It was a miracle that I didn’t fall off Epona and drown in the river right there.

The golden light of the sunset fell over the mountaintops surrounding Kakariko Village, casting the village in shadow so that only the warm illuminance of the resident’s windows brought light into the streets. When our caravan arrived in front of Impa’s house. I jolted awake as Dorian’s small children called my name. A few other curious villagers crowded around before Dorian shooed them away.

Zelda awakened, and I was grateful that the evening light would prevent us from drawing much more attention from the villagers as we ascended the steps to the elder’s home under the cover of darkness. Only as I climbed the steps did I begin to realize how exhausted my body felt: navigating through the rubble of Hyrule Castle, defeating Calamity Ganon, and then riding all the way back to Kakariko all in the same day had done a number on me. However, I couldn’t complain, because the girl stepping up next to me had just fought off the ultimate demon for a hundred years straight.

We had not even reached the top of the stairs when the doors to the house flew open. Zelda gasped from beside me, faltering before she whispered. “...Impa?”

Impa grinned down on us. “It has been a long time, Your Highness.”

Before she began preparing food, Paya fetched a red potion from Impa’s cabinet for me. I felt the pain in my arm and head dull considerably with the first sip. I then went to sit down with Princess Zelda where she kneeled beside Impa’s cushion. We briefly made eye contact and she smiled, though I could see fatigue clouding in her emerald green irises. I offered a crooked grin of my own in return. A flash of surprise crossed her face, though she said nothing of it.

“You look like you haven’t aged a day,” said Impa as she placed a hand on Zelda’s own. “Some of us aren’t so lucky, unfortunately… At least Link has all those scars to prove he battled in the calamity, even if his memory is still imperfect.”

I almost choked on my potion with Impa’s joke. Robbie must have talked with Impa about how he confirmed my identity.

Zelda glanced over at me with a raised eyebrow before she shook her head. “I was locked in a state of stasis. Even now, I don’t fully understand how everything has changed since I last walked through Hyrule.”

Impa chuckled softly then nodded. “I am sure it will take quite a while for you to process everything that has come to pass.”

Zelda clasped her hands on her knees in front of her. Her white dress, though stained from the events a hundred years ago, still fell around her in graceful, unwrinkled folds. “We… we must immediately plan the next course of action,” said Zelda.

“Indeed,” said Impa, shifting to lean forward in her seat. She put her hands on her knees and leaned forwards. “Hyrule looks to you, Your Highness.”

“Well, yes…” Zelda’s eyes flickered wide for a moment as if it had only now occurred to her that the leadership of the kingdom now fell solely on her shoulders alone. I frowned as the memory—though still a bit broken in my head—came back to me. A hundred years ago, we’d fled the castle in a hurry when the Guardians corrupted around us. Zelda had not seen her father die in the castle that day, but I knew of his fate from speaking with his spirit.

She may have not had any time to even consider his death at all, until now.

“Impa… tell me, as my Royal Advisor, what do you think we should do?” Zelda asked in a low voice. Her hands fidgeted with the folds of her skirt.

Impa tightened her lips. “I believe we should start with the restoring of the castle. It is the heart of Hyrule Kingdom.”

Zelda swallowed and looked down at her hands. “Right, the castle…”

“There are monsters everywhere inside,” I said. Zelda glanced at me when I spoke. “We will need to get them out first. I also think there are some things inside that could possibly be salvaged.”

A hint of hope glimmered in Zelda’s eyes but it was lost a moment later. “Who will help us do this? The entire army is gone. The last of our soldiers fell in the battle at Akkala Citadel.” She closed her eyes and clenched her fists. “We could do nothing to save a single soul.”

“The Sheikah have always served the Royal Family,” said Impa. “I will see to it that we do everything we can to assist. Perhaps you can ask the other races of the kingdom for help too.”

I could tell Zelda’s mind raced as her fists clenched the fabric of her dress. “Perhaps. Thank you, Impa.”

“I am sure they will be willing to help,” said Impa. Zelda nodded but fell quiet.

A few minutes later, Paya placed a tray of steamed vegetable skewers in front of us. My mouth watered at the sight of the colorful vegetables. I hadn’t eaten since I swiped some raw mushrooms from a moblin’s hoard in the castle’s ruined dining hall. Zelda reached out to take one of the skewers, and I suddenly remembered something.

“Eat slowly,” I said before she even touched the hearty radish on the skewer. She sent me a questioning gaze. I blushed when I realized I’d given an order to Her Highness. I needed to clarify. “Uhm… when I woke up after a hundred years, my stomach rejected food for a few days.”

Zelda nodded, now understanding, and narrowed her attention as she delicately pulled off the radish on the end of the spear. I dug into my own skewer without much regard for table manners, savoring the sustenance while Paya and Impa watched me, a hint of amusement evident on their faces. Apparently, I used to be a slightly more... refined eater when I served in the castle. After only a few bites, Zelda put a hand on her abdomen and offered the rest of her skewer to me. My hunch was right—her body was still fragile from her long stay in stasis.

Paya served the rest of the meal to us: meat, rice, and fortified pumpkin pie for dessert. I ravenously enjoyed the meal, much to Paya and Impa’s entertainment—but Zelda only took a small taste of each dish to be polite before she said she felt too nauseated to continue. After the meal, I cleaned my hands and asked Paya if I could assist her in washing anything, which naturally sent her into a flustered frenzy as she declined any help whatsoever from me or the Princess.

I found Zelda outside on the back porch later that evening, leaning against the wooden guardrail, her head inclined up to the starry sky. Her dress, though stained with the blemishes of battle, still reflected the silver light of the moon. The trickle of the nearby waterfall and stream broke the silence of the night. She glanced over her shoulder when she heard me approach. “May I join you, Your Highness?” I asked.

She nodded. I stepped up beside her and leaned against the railing. “Are you feeling alright?” I asked.

She bobbed her shoulders and I knew that probably meant ‘no’ but she would not admit it. “I am…” She paused, considering her words, before continuing. “I am worried… the races of Hyrule will be angry at me as I am responsible alone for the state of the Kingdom. I owe them all an immense apology for failing them, and I do not think I can ever repay them for it.”

My heart sank with hers. I leaned an elbow on the railing. “I believe the ones who helped me cleanse the Divine Beasts would each take up the role of becoming Champions—leaders to assist in leading a rebuilding effort—if you wish to designate them.”

Zelda tightened her lips. “It is because of me that our old Champion friends, their greatest warriors, perished in battle.”

“That was because Ganon corrupted the Divine Beasts before we even knew what happened,” I reminded her. “Besides, they will all warmly welcome you with the news of Calamity Ganon’s defeat. That is good news for all.”

Zelda nodded and looked down at her folded hands. A frog jumped into the water below us with a splash. A quiet beat passed before Zelda spoke again. “Thank you for the prompt warning about eating earlier,” said Zelda. “I suspect I would have become quite ill had I forced too much food on myself so soon after coming out of many years of stasis. I’m sorry you had to experience that.”

“You’re welcome, Your Highness,” I said. “I wouldn’t want you to feel sick either. Fighting Ganon was more than enough pain for one day, let alone a hundred years.”

Zelda cracked a small smile. “You know, we never spoke nearly this frequently a hundred years ago. You used to be so quiet. I always wished I had more opportunities to talk with you like this.”

I straightened up a bit and stared at Zelda as I processed this information. Had my personality really shifted that much since my memory reconstruction?

If so… What would she think of me now? How would she feel about me?

Zelda drummed her fingers on the guardrail as she continued. “I do wonder how we will both fit into this world now. We have not aged like those around us who are left that we knew before the calamity.” She shook her head. “I’m still processing the drastic difference of Impa’s age, to be honest. When I first saw Paya, I thought she was Impa because she has such a striking resemblance. But no, she is her granddaughter.”

I nodded. “It’s been strange meeting people who knew me from before, though I didn’t remember most of them at first.”

Our conversation was interrupted by the shriek of one of the villagers in the plaza behind us, followed by the cry of a bokoblin.

Instinctively, I grabbed Zelda’s hand led her into the safety of Impa’s house. I pushed through the front doors to view the commotion in the village below. I halted when I saw that Dorian and Cado, Impa’s guards, had already taken care of the stray bokoblin and its body disappeared into thin air.

Several villagers gathered in the area below, nervously discussing the monster. Zelda appeared beside me and I heard her exhale heavily in stress. One of the villagers noticed her and called up at us. “It’s the Princess!”

All of the Sheikah turned their heads to look up at us. A few cheered in delight as the crowd migrated towards the base of the stairs. Several people began yelling things at us at once.

“Princess!”

“Did you finally defeat the Calamity?”

“Are you really Princess Zelda?”

“Why are there still monsters attacking us?”

“What was that giant laser?”

“Will you defeat all the monsters around the village too?”

Zelda held a hand to her chin and took a step back as the villagers yelled all of their questions at her. Dorian and Cado waved their arms in an attempt to quiet down the excited villagers.

“Enough.”

Impa’s voice boomed over the village and the crowd fell silent. I glanced over to find Impa at the top of the stairs. She crossed her arms and frowned down at her villagers.

Zelda cleared her throat and I could see her hand shaking as she lowered them. “I assure you I will see to the concerns you have,” she called down to the crowd. “Please know that Calamity Ganon is defeated, and Hyrule will rise from the ashes.”

Several of the Sheikah cheered upon the news of Calamity Ganon’s defeat. However, one of the young child villagers ran forward in the crowd. “Then why are there still monsters attacking the village?”

Zelda pursed her lips. “We will investigate,” she said.

More villagers began to ask all kinds of questions. I glanced at Impa and she nodded at me, as if to understand my thoughts. I reached over to Zelda and grabbed her hand before I gently pulled her back towards the door to Impa’s home.

“I will take all of your concerns for the Princess in due time,” Impa called as I pulled the door open. “For now, good night, and stay on your guard for stray monsters.”

Zelda let go of my hand when we reached the sanctuary of Impa’s house. She paced around in a circle and sighed. “Why did a monster come into the village? Monsters should never come into a village on their own, right? What are we going to do about this?”

“Your Highness, it was just a stray bokoblin—“ I started.

“The monsters should all be tame now. We defeated the calamity. They have no reason to feel irrational anger and come to attack people now. We should be able to live in peace with them.” Zelda held her arms to her head and leaned over as she panicked. “I did seal it away, right?”

“Your Highness…” I tried again.

“I must research this. The Calamity may not have been properly sealed away—“ Zelda stopped when I placed a firm hand on her shoulder. She flicked her head around and faced me. Though she was slightly taller than I, her green, anxious gaze pierced directly into my eyes. I prayed I was not acting out of line by touching her without permission.

“It was just a bokoblin. They aren’t very smart. It probably just wandered in behind us when it saw the caravan. Dorian and Cado took care of it,” I said while looking into her eyes. “Everything is fine. You don’t need to worry.”

She looked straight into my eyes with such great intensity that I wondered if I should step away before she broke the eye contact and looked down at the ground. She sniffed and nodded as tears began to form around her eyes. “I’m sorry, I think I’ve… overreacted…”

Impa cleared her throat. “I think the Princess needs to get some more rest. How about we clean you up and then send you to bed? We can continue talk of Hyrule Castle and monsters when you wake up in the morning.”

Zelda nodded slowly and Paya escorted her upstairs to her personal quarters. I wanted to follow and give her a tight hug, although I knew that would probably be way out of line to my duty as her appointed knight. Impa told me I was welcome to stay as well but I decided I would stay at the inn that night to offer them all a little more privacy.

I attempted to fall sleep early that evening but my mind kept drifting to the events earlier with Calamity Ganon. I decided to instead use the time to address my arm wound once more. I probably should have been seen by a doctor but I was not in the mood to answer a million questions about the battle yet. I retrieved a fresh bandage from Epona’s saddlebag and walked to the peninsula at the pond where Kakariko’s Goddess Statue resided, and sat myself down under the light of the torches.

The red potion had luckily healed much of the delicate internal damage I’d acquired but the wound from Calamity Ganon on my shoulder would take some time to heal completely. I removed my tunic and undershirt before I applied potion-infused ointment to several minor wounds all over my torso that I accrued from monsters and malice burns in the castle. I smirked when I looked down at my abdomen. A Gerudo woman had once scoffed at me for not even having visible abs early on in my journey but there was… some muscle defined there now from months of climbing Hyrule’s mountains and cliffsides. It was clearly enough muscle needed to defeat Calamity Ganon, anyways.

My ears twitched when footsteps treaded on the grass behind me. I instinctively thought to grab my sword, but then came a quiet, “Link?”

I looked over my shoulder, and relaxed immediately when I saw the figure behind me. “Your Highness, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

Zelda folded her hands in front of her. Her golden hair was tied up behind her head in a bun and she wore a blue sleeping gown underneath a Sheikah robe that Paya must have lent to her. “I...wanted to thank you for calming me down earlier before I settled in for the night. I was just a little overwhelmed at how suddenly everything has changed.”

I turned around and wiped the remaining healing ointment from my hand onto my arm. “Nobody else seems to understand exactly what we’re going through right now.” I muttered.

She nodded and pulled the collar of her robe up around her chin as a chilly breeze floated between us. If we weren’t having such a serious conversation, I would have considered more how it was quite a cute thing to do. She held her palm to her face as she sighed. “I...I do not think I am ready to go anywhere near the castle yet. Though it’s been a hundred years for everyone else, the memory of the destruction and loss is still too fresh, too painful in my mind...”

I stepped closer to her and she looked into my eyes once again. The light from the torches behind me flickered shadows onto her fair face. Fear and exhaustion plagued her face.

My heart ached for her.

She had just fought an unimaginable horror in the castle for a hundred years and now was expected to immediately begin facilitating the reconstruction of Hyrule. The villagers didn’t understand how they had set off this expectation in her mind, of course. Impa was correct that the castle needed reclaimed as soon as possible—but did Zelda really have to be there immediately?

I realized she had said something to me again but my mind had been lost in my thoughts. “Sorry, can you repeat that, Your Highness?” I asked, shaking my head.

“I said, I can see all of your scars... You have collected so many, if you don’t mind me saying. You’ve endured so much pain for us,” she said with a frown.

I looked down. The scars, a mix of the severe mortal ones I’d endured a hundred years ago and newer ones from my journey, littered in violent slashes across my body. I tightened my lips. People so easily understood I had been through pain when they saw my scars. However, nobody else seemed to notice Zelda’s struggle right now.

I was probably the only one who could even somewhat understand what she went through with the events of the calamity. And now, she faced the immense pressure to rule Hyrule by herself. Such pressure on a single person was incredibly difficult to bear. In the past—as Zelda had reminded me earlier—the intense pressure of being the chosen wielder of the Master Sword had driven me to silence. I could not let Zelda fall to a similar fate of anxiety.

“Your Highness, would you like to go somewhere? To get away from everything for a bit?” I blurted before I could consider my own words.

She blinked in mild confusion. “Leave here? What about the castle? Hyrule?”

“With all due respect, Your Highness, you won’t be assembling the castle by yourself. You just defeated Calamity Ganon. Let some other people begin work on the castle.” I put my hands on my hips. “Your Highness, you need a rest, even if a brief one. To be perfectly honest, I need one as well.”

“What about my sworn duties?”

I laughed. “The land has lasted a hundred years without an active ruler. The people can wait just a little longer for you to recover. A lot of people don’t even know that you’re still alive.”

Zelda folded her arms and tightened her lips. “Where would we go?”

I thought for a moment. “Hateno Village? I have a house there. It’s very safe there, and nobody would bother you. We could visit Purah’s Lab.” I tapped my jaw as I considered the other perks of Hateno. “There’s also a beach nearby, so you could see the ocean.”

Zelda furrowed her brow as she considered my proposal. “It does sound like a lovely place... I’ve never visited there before, actually. I would love to see Purah again too.“ A smile graced Zelda’s lips as she nodded. “It’s decided then. I will direct Impa to lead the Sheikah to begin the reclamation of Hyrule Castle, and inform her that I will be taking a short rest before I begin the rebuilding process.”

I smiled back at her and nodded. “We’ll leave at first light in the morning.”

“Wonderful,” She bowed her head lightly. “Good night, Sir Link, I’ll see you in the morning,” she said cheerfully before turning away and retreating back to Impa’s house.

My cheeks heated against the cool air when she used the formal title. It only then occurred to me that she’d never used any kind of title with me before that I could remember.

...Exactly how close had we been before the calamity?

20 notes · View notes

deceiviious · 3 years

Text

@perfect-fourth

Zed remembered the whispers among the Navori brotherhood from nineteen years ago. He had been little more than a boy, barely fifteen years of age, when some fellow disciples had returned to the temple of Thaanjul, wide-eyed, with gaping mouths and gossip to share. “There’s a demon,” one girl had blurted out. “He’s killed four people, but the master won’t let us see.”

Thinking back upon the conversation, Zed was relieved everybody save him and Shen had been spared of the unspeakable horrors that the so-called demon had caused. “The Golden Demon,” the townspeople of Gilur had coined after sixteen hardworking farmers had been left dead, assembled to what could be best described as a pyramid of corpses, each draped meticulously. The entrails were spread in an intricate pattern, leaving little to the imagination. He remembered the screams of an elderly housewife upon discovering her husband’s belt on one of the dismembered corpses – save for his clothing, he had been unidentifiable, as had the rest of them. Zed recalled the silence as one after the other body was lifted from the pile – they had been staked with metal and wooden poles – and the village had scattered around what human was left, praying desperately that it wasn’t a family member. That it was somebody else, but not their relative, friend, daughter, son. After the sixth body Zed had fled the scene, nauseated, his hands clenched to fists, digging his fingernails into his palms until he’d drawn blood.

He had felt similarly helpless back then as he did now, treading up the hill leading to the former Kinkou temple. Although he was heavily armed – not only with the familiar shurikens in each hand, but with various assortments of daggers and spikes – he felt naked heading towards what seemed like a nightmare. As desperately as he hoped Jhin hadn’t spared the main residence of the Shadow Order any attention, it seemed unlikely – after all, the former stagehand would never interrupt his carefully crafted routine or his obsession with the number four. The only logical conclusion – the only one left – was that he had immediately headed towards Thaanjul. The closer Zed drew, the larger the lump in his throat seemed to grow – he tried to swallow it down, but it seemed downright impossible with his dry mouth and sharp inhales that had grown rapid from trying to climb the hill as quickly as he could. At the edge of the clearing the building sat in, he paused momentarily to catch his breath, scanning the area for traces of an unfamiliar presence. He found none outside – no obvious fighting. Nevertheless, he couldn’t shake the eerie feeling – the feeling that something was horribly wrong. It was only split seconds before the realized what – it was quiet. Usually, around this time, the air was filled with shouts, laughter and strained grunts, members of his Order practicing magic in the gardens, some perhaps enjoying a meal outside after cooking together. Now, nobody paced through the tall grass – cautiously, he pushed himself along the backside of the temple, intent on staying unseen, especially from high ground.

Zed elected not to enter through the large opening in front of the building that was framed by two tall pillars, marbled, ivory twining up their length. Instead, he snuck in through a window that was about six feet off the ground – traditionally, neither the Kinkou nor his order had taken a particular liking to glass which resulted in every entrance being open so he wouldn’t have to shatter or make any sound to enter. Zed leapt, grabbing ahold of the cool stone of the windowsill, his shurikens tucked into his belt, pulling himself up with his arms and lifting his legs over the sill quietly. He landed in one of the shared sleeping areas, thudding to the ground as quietly as a cat would have.

The first observation the shadow master made was that the futons hadn’t been made – he would’ve expressed his displeasure otherwise upon discovering the scrambled blankets and pillows, now he ignored the chaos his students had left behind. The room contained four of the mattresses, but of the yánléi nobody was in sight. Zed frowned, pacing across the room and through the curtain that gave them the utmost privacy, entering one of the many long-winded hallways. Even through his mask, here, without the open windows to clear out the waft of smoke, Zed could taste a sickly sweet scent – a floral stench that immediately put him on edge, making him tighten his grip around his handheld weapons of choice. The air seemed heavier than usual, tinted in a violet shade – he removed his headpiece briefly to inhale and pressed it back onto his face. It made him lightheaded and dizzy and Zed staggered against the wall to stay on his feet.

It was already obvious that the Golden Demon had indeed been here – if not from the polluted air that Zed gaged to be some form of gas – then from of the next bedroom. He found one young man slumped over his futon and his stomach twisted as he knelt down, hesitating briefly before he reached for his wrist. He looked dead. What if they all were dead? The thought crossed his mind briefly, but he shoved it aside before it could consume him, turning the yánléi onto his back. His chest rose and fell shallowly and Zed exhaled sharply, relieved he had been spared, but dreading what he was to discover throughout the temple.

He found the first corpse in the hallway between Kayn’s and his own room – a fallen girl, laying on her stomach, a pool of blood oozing from the wound in her head. “Yena,” he said, voice devoid of emotions as he sat, pulling the knife from where it had gotten stuck in the bone of her skull. Zed had seen enough death for a lifetime, yet had always managed to distance himself from the kills on the battlefield, the Noxians slaying countless Ionians. That hadn’t been his fault – this was and his alone. He might have as well struck her down himself, he thought bitterly, swallowing down the strangled sob that threatened to claw its way out of his throat. Instead, he turned her head slightly – the white of the shattered bone, leaking brain matter and coagulated blood made him avert his gaze as he brushed over her eyelids to close them. Zed had only spared her face a brief gaze, but the expression had irreversibly etched itself into his mind – doe eyes, widened surprise. She hadn’t been afraid, she hadn’t had time to be – her life had ended before she had thudded to the ground. Zed blinked, his eyes watering. The desperate hope that it had been but a nightmare had long evaporated into thin air, leaving behind nothing but pure, stomach wrenching, gut-twisting terror. Quietly – still anxious Jhin was in his temple – Zed rose to his feet, pursing his lips, prepared to move on. Throughout the next few rooms, his students were slowly starting to stir, but he bid them to stay quiet. Yena’s corpse had been the sixth which meant that at least two more were left. Zed didn’t doubt Jhin had fulfilled his work.

The second body lay in the joined area used for cooking and conversing. Zed brushed aside the curtain that separated the area from the hallway and immediately realized he had found what he was searching for – the smell wasn’t strong yet, especially beneath his mask, but the pattern of innards and blood splashed across the ground wasn’t to be missed. Initially, Zed thought the pile at the end of the room to be a piece of blood drenched fabric, but as he drew closer, he recognized bones and flesh among the jumbled mess that sat atop a carpet… A rug that hadn’t been there before. Zed flinched, not stepping any closer to the husk of what had once been a yánléi. He couldn’t identify him and he could no longer ignore the overwhelming vertigo that forced him onto his knees in a puddle of blood, head lowered, breaths growing rapid. One word etched itself into his mind, repeating, screaming. ‘Why. Why me? What have I done?’

Zed pressed a gloved hand against his chest that rose and fell too quickly – the additional intake of oxygen was beginning to make him feel lightheaded, panic tightening his throat until he was certain he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move, much like the corpse – did it even deserve that name – the shreds of flesh that lay on the ground. There was one more – Zed knew there had to be. He felt his knees buckle when he climbed to his feet, steadying and balancing himself with the help of the nearby wall. He had combed through all of the bedrooms, now all that was left was the main hall that lead to the entrance of the temple. Slowly, he crept closer – blinking, trying to shake the past few images. He was surprised at the sight that confronted him – the hall was empty. Nobody. Nothing. A few seconds passed before he heard a shuffle from one corner, from behind one of the supporting pillars – immediately, he reached for a dagger as the figure stepped closer, swaying slightly – the demon was tall and slender, clad in his mask, the shoulder piece and surely armed. Close enough for his shadow step, Zed was able to dash in.

“How dare you! What have you done!” The scream caught in his throat, his voice broke as he tumbled into the man, both of them going to the ground, his blades plunging deeply into the other's heart. Zed yanked out the first shuriken and sliced his throat, feeling the satisfying warm liquid stain his gloves. Again, he stabbed the killer, until he had stopped twitching, until he felt the life had left him. Zed panted, gasped as he removed his own mask and bent over to do the same for Jhin. He tore it off and his mind refused to cooperate with the image. The man was dead, without a doubt – his eyelids had been sewn closed with golden thread, as had his lips, blood staining his face. He lay lifelessly and most importantly – the realization had dawned far earlier, the scream left his lips before Zed could consciously – it was not Jhin.

It was one of his own – one of his own he had brutally and remorselessly murdered, without much of a second thought. Zed scrambled down next to him, his hands already pressed against the wounds on his throat and chest as more and more blood leaked from the poor unsuspecting yánléi. “No… Please, c’mon! Wake up, dammit,” he snapped, voice breaking. He knew it was too late, it was little more than a desperate attempt to soothe his conscience. “Please…”

He was faint. The tears fell without his say, obscuring his vision, turning the world around him into a blurry mess as he let his head drop onto the body’s chest, cowering beside him, clutching him. “Please. I didn’t… Mean to,” he whispered.

#tw: gore #tw: panic attacks #tw jhin don't read this if you don't want graphic description of gore #mmH YES this took me so long but here is zorture #zhangst #he is.. not doing well

6 notes · View notes

monstersbabygirl · 5 years

Text

Warm Me With Your Body || M!Naga/Ulrio x F!Reader - SMUT

It’s dangerous at night, your mother has always spouted at you. In her head she’s protecting you, like a mother should with their child... in yours she’s trapping you, damning you to the small cottage you both call home. You were about the head out in the darkness of the night, something pulling you, urging you to go! To ignore your mother’s words and go find something wild!

You had always been the adventurous type, running off whenever the chance was given to you. Always wanting to go fishing or hunting with your father when he had still been a live even if you were too small at the time not to mention a girl. A lot of times you looked back on those days. Ones where you’d pull on his helmet and swing his swear around with your noddle arms claiming to slay any monsters that you found.

Ones where he’d chuckle and root you on only to give a awkward laugh when your mother would get angry at him. You never knew why, you were strong! If she had faith in you the same way dad did you could do anything.

With a sigh you wiped your eyes and tiptoed down the hall, after many years of doing this and running along these halls you learned which steps could get you caught and which ones could lead you to freedom. Your boots made it a little more difficult, you yourself liked to be barefoot in these sort of situations but the seasons have changed and you rather not a worm dig into you skin when the solution was so clear. A candle balanced in your hand, your (e/c) eyes on the flickering flame careful of your surroundings trying not to trip waste the wax that surrounded the stick.

You passed your mother’s room stopping for a second to give the memory of her a soft smile. She worked hard, that was a fact and yet you managed to cause so many problems. You hated to upset her but after months of contemplating you decided that hunting would actually help with the money problem around here. Boars, sold well. Anything with horns and rough skin did, even snakes sold pretty nicely if you could find the right one.

Determination found your features and with a nod of good luck you wished your sleeping mother well. You collected your bow, something your father whipped up for you years ago. Plucking the string a couple times you tested the durability and deemed it worthy before grabbing your satchel full of arrows. You hunted already but only rabbits and such, it brought money but it was time for a change, time for you to work harder! You got outside closing the door behind you, the skies were dark and the wind held many scents. You quite noticeably licked you lips before running over to the stables where your horse rested.

When you had approached the creature took notice and you grinned. Not long after you had clothes it with it’s saddle before you climbed on board. You gently caressed the animal a soft sigh slipping from your lips. You didn’t like killing, nor did you like disobeying your mouth but you saw her struggle, one being with the loss of your father the other trying to keep you safe. However, you say at the age of seventeen and you granted that you knew everything. Such a foolish girl yes. The king had been a tyrant in your eyes, caging his people into the city yapping nonsense about some beast that was claimed to be haunting the forest.

Beast weren’t real, you told yourself rolling your eyes at his speech in the town square. You hadn’t even caught all the words other than “long, aggressive, and tricky!” You nearly laughed then, there were many animals, the fool could have simply seen a poor leopard cub and saw the pattern and freaked out. You giggled at the thought pulling in the ropes that helped you guide your horse, Cali. He was an Appaloosa, truly gorgeous. The creature huffed for a second with a flick of the tail and a head shake and you pouted leaning over his head placing a light kiss on his muzzle.

“Come on Cal, you expect me to carry a beast back all by myself?!”

You whisper yelled playfully before tugging again, he wasn’t moving an inch as it trying to tell you something, trying to warn you. You sighed before leaning back crossing your arms over your chest, a small breeze tickling your (s/c) skin. You lifted a neat eyebrow.

“I’ll buy you more apples..”

The creature started walking and you groaned falling forward dramatically to lay in his mane, letting out a huff blowing the rich locks away from your face. You say back up rolling your eyes mentioning to call the animal a brat.

When you had made it into the forest it was quiet enough, crickets chirping, frogs croaking, and the sound of Cali’s careful steps. You hummed looking around looking for what could be of use but sadly everything seemed to either be sleeping or hiding. It was nice out, the sharp metal of your arrows clinked together ever so often. Your (h/c) (h/l) hair bouncing at each step. Your eyes focused, it was dark but you had practiced so much for this, even if you couldn’t see you could hear... you could feel... you could smell.

A crunch sounded and with intense speed you pulled the ropes to stop Cali who for some reason looked stressed. You drew your bow and arrow pointing into the direction where you heard the noise. Silence settled in and as Cali started to look around you cooed at him. You sighed lowering the weapon guessing whatever had caused the noise sensed you and ran off. your ragged but fashionable clothing swished lightly. You laid your bow on the ridge of his back before petting his mane once more.

“It’s ok baby, calm down. There’s nothing out here.”

You tried to comfort the creature but after tugging on the ropes once more only for Cali to neigh you decided it was probably better to get down and lead the way yourself. With a huff you swung your leg careful to not kick your animal friend in the head, you looked at the grassy ground seeing raindrops on some of the blades before jumping down landing swiftly. You took your bow putting the arrow you had took out not too long ago back away. You took the ropes petting the steed on his muzzle before leading, encouraging the creature to follow which, for the time being, it did.

You were starting to get frustrated, where were all the animals?! Usually in the forest there were deer, wolves, coyotes, and hell practically anything else and you couldn’t find one. You were about to give up, go home and hope your mother hadn’t discovered you absence yet. You took a step jumping when you stepped on something rather questionable. It scared you, the sound it didn’t sound like a twig. Cali neighed rather loudly and took a couple steps back resulting in you gripping the rope shushing him. He called down after a couple of sweet praises.

You hummed again turning ahead again before lifting your boot. And rib cage..you stepped in a rib cage! You stumbled back a little surprised blinking. What the hell was big enough to do this? You brought yourself back to earth squatting down to the corpse. Perhaps a bear..but, the corpse was spotless not a piece of skin or fur anywhere. Fear and confusion started to settle in, even if it was a bear were they capable of completely cleaning off bones? What about a wolf pack, or maybe cougars? You pondered before another crunch, louder...closer than the last time in you without a thought drew your weapon.

You took the shot piercing the animal who gave a wild squeal, the sound echoing throughout the trees. A boar! You thought excitedly letting go of Cali’s ropes and rushing over, to your surprise though the beast had already gained a couple wounds. It spasmed on the ground, twitching and soaking the wet blades in blood. Squeals coming from it until the last breath was giving leaving it limp. You slid to the ground stopping in front of it before clasping you hands together letting your eyes fall shut.

“Thank you poor thing, your death will not be for nothing. Be free and head into the bright light and meet you brothers and sisters who have been taken before you.”

You spoke softly before opening your eyes, the spirit was blue, a good sign really. It was an innocent spirit, the orb flew away fading into the darkness of the sky and you chuckled lightly feeling the blood and rain soak into your long dress. You didn’t mind though. Slowly your hand made a fist around the arrow you had shot before sliding the weapon out from the tender flesh. You say it down in the grass before looking over the body pausing for a second.

There were bite marks. Large ones, two piercings were crimson soaked the dark fur. They looked like... snake bites but, snakes didn’t go after boats for the main reason be that they were simply too big. Even if a snake did go after a boar it’s bite shouldn’t be this size. You grew worried a frown finding its way to your lips before a sigh left you. You slid you arms under the body standing before turning smiling at Cali.

“Look, Cal!-“

“Well, well, well..”

A shakingly deep voice hissed. You froze, eyes widening as the shadow grew past your own, the moonlight shining over you and whoever had found you. Cali let out a horrid shrill before standing on his hind legs then turning and rushing away as if the demon himself was on his ass. You gulped calling out to him but you could hear how fast he was running and it told you he wasn’t coming back. You stood there for a second before smiling nervously, maybe it was just some guy that lived in the forest. It wasn’t completely unheard of after all. You turn mouth opening to say something snarky but as you had to look up your mouth grew dry and eyes a little watery.

T-The beast..

He stood tall, a toned, long hair that hung over his shoulders. If it wasn’t for the snake tail attached to him you would have thought he really was a human. His eyes were bright, eyes like a feral cat, his aura dominating and dark. Both of your eyes connected and he looked irritated. His brows furrowed before his gaze looked down to the creature your held in your shaking arms. He reached a clawed hand out and you flinched as he grabbed the beast lifting it effortlessly. You trembled stumbling back before falling on your ass as his jaw unhinged showing the long, thick, fangs he had in his mouth, dropping the dead animal in head first swallowing it down in a large gulp moving his inhuman body side to side. You watched in terror as the lump slowly slid down.

You jumped when he looked back at you quickly spinning around to scurry away only for the beast to hiss, his tail shot forward wrapping around you crushing you into his large tight coils pulling you back until you were held in front of him. You whimpered, this was why. Your mother had tried to protect you but you had been so stubborn. This was why the king locked the gates at night and you took them for granted and now you were going to die because of your foolishness.

You wished your father was still here.

A cold clawed hand grabbed your jaw trapping you between a point and thumb, nails lightly digging into your cheek. You shook you head the best you could.

“P-Please..don’t..”

You wheezed croaking when the tail tightened around you, moving over your curves taking the breath from you. He lifted a brow leaning in the sniff you before grabbing your wrist with his other hand, you watched him intently - him returning the gaze as he licked a fine line grow you wrist to where you sleeve had slid up tasting the blood that lied there. You shivered, damn it..he was hot. Smoking hot, you didn’t want to admit it but the way his coils squeezed you forcing you to try to breathe harder was making you warm. The intensity of his eyes forcing you to watch as he licked you and oh how hot his tongue felt against your skin. You let off a shudder and a low hiss came from him as he let go of your wrist moving up you your face.

You panted into his face and for a split second you could have sworn you saw a smirk on his lips. His head moved leaving you relieved for only a second until the organ flicked out licking your earlobe causing you to gasp. He was in your ear, his voice slow but promising and you felt yourself melt.

“You like that...little two leg? Don’t lie, I can ssssmell it.. on you.”

You gasped once more a bit louder than before as one of his coils loosened, readjusting itself to where it wrapped around only one of your legs instead of both. You dress lifted and a dark blush colored your cheek as you could feel the muscle wiggle closer and closer until it was against her pants making her moan softly realizing how wet she really was.

“You’re ssssoaking wet..”

The beast purred slightly running his tongue up your neck. You were scared but that’s what made you needy. You had never done this but he was touching you so well! The coils around you held you tighter forcing your thighs to close around the coil between your legs. Without another thought you arched rolling your hips. He watched in what seemed to be fascination freeing your jaw to run his hand through you hair, you nearly relaxed before nails scraped your scalp, a tight fist yanking you hair making your head snap back exposing that (s/c), sweaty throat of yours.

He licked his lips before opening his mouth and before you could get lost in rolling your hips you noticing, letting out a choked cry begging him not to do it. Not to kill you that is. Surprisingly gently his fangs slid out before running down the vein in your throat. You shuddered all over gulping. He hummed lowly before lowering you, dropping you back onto the ground. You panted taking in air as he towered over you. You watched as his hand slid between your thighs and when he cupped your sex you jumped grabbing his wrist.

“W-wait a second! I don’t even know you!”

You cried and he glared at this, his other hand grabbed yours pinning it to the ground next to you. His hand hung over his shoulders kissing against you as he leaned down. The hand on your sex moved and suddenly he was ripping your dress into shreds ignoring your squeal, you cheeks blood red as his face nuzzled your crotch. His hand let go of yours the grip at your meaty thighs pulling them and forcing them open. You.. let him, biting your lip like the slut you were.

You wanted it, wanted it bad, the coiling in your belly being as strong as his coils around you. You hated to admit it but you couldn’t help it. You watched excitedly and he smirked at you kissing your clit that had still be covered by you panties.

“It’s Ulrio.. (y/n)”

You perked when he spoke your name, shock hitting you in a wave as you went to ask how he knew of you. Before you could though he scooted your panties aside and sunk his tongue all the way into your virgin core making you gasp and grab his hair, long dark locks coloring your thighs as you arched your back off the ground. It was a embarrassing feeling, the way his tongue wiggle, swayed, and tickled your tight pink walls. The squeeze he felt on his tongue making him hiss, any thoughts or questions leaving you that quick.

His nails dig into your thighs as his mouth suddenly engulfed your whole pussy trapping your sensitive hard clit in his heated mouth, saliva running down and over your twitching asshole. Your scent was driving him wild, it was driving him off the edge of self control. He ate you out like his life depended on it listening to your cries and begging. You pleaded for more was your other hand came down pulling him even closer your orgasm crashing over you like a tsunami. You yanked, boots digging hard into the grass as your back arched in a fine bow shape, hair messy against the grass as you creamed into his mouth coating his tongue with the new flavor.

A flavor he quite liked.

Ulrio pulled away when your hands loosened giving him a chance to slip out of your grip. He looked over his handy work as he swallowed. You were a mess and all her did was eat you out. Your skin sweaty, clothes torn, pussy covered in spit and glistening. He panted before placing each of his hands on each side of you catching your attention. You peeked at him, his hair like a curtain around you both as her panted against your lips. You lazily wrapped an arm around his shoulders pulling him down into a heated kiss. His tongue sliding into your mouth and down you throat making you gag a little but also allowed you to taste yourself. Your eyes slid shut as a moan left your lips and then suddenly something big prodded at your entrances.

You looked down freezing when you saw the two large cocks, with wide tips and fleshy ridges, precum oozing out of both the tips. Ulrio chuckled at your reaction kissing you once more, his hand moving down to firmly rub against you clit to distract you from the pain that was soon to come. You let of a shaky moan biting your lip when one of his cocks teased the entrance of your hole making you whine. He growled when he slowly pushed in watching as you dug your nails into his naked back. He knew it hurt but he couldn’t let you get away: you were his now, after all these years.

Your stomach bulge noticeably when he was fully inside, he stilled watching as you body trembled with pain and pleasure. He finally had you! He couldn’t believe it..he had been watching you ever since you were a child, keeping up with your age until now. You had came to him as well, he didn’t have to come to you.

He had you and it was going to stay that way. When you were ready he slowly thrusted watching with love as you let out a long moan.

“U-Ulrio!~”

Finally. You were his.

Aight sorry if it’s a bit short but I had started to get lazy. Ulrio is an oc of mine so I might draw him at some point. Anyway hope you hoes enjoyed it somehow!

#naga #yandere naga #yandere x you #oc x reader #monster males #monster lover #monster smut #x reader #x female reader #naga x reader #yandere naga x reader #requests always open

802 notes · View notes