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projectnewmoon · 5 months ago

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Sonic - Project: New Moon

Chapter 7 - No Retribution for the Greaving

Summary: Exploring a base in Permafrost Plains, Sonic learns more about his new beastly acquaintance.

Warnings: Minor body horror, mentions of death, blood and violence.

Word Count: 3,041 words

The Tornado flew high in the cold night sky above Permafrost Plains, a Zone near Holoska. Snow fell upon the land and frigid wind chilled everyone in the group to the bone. Everyone shivered, save for Sonic, who was very used to traversing places like this. Not only that, but the fur of his beastly form had proven to be very warm.

Sonic would have been able to enjoy the ride more if it weren't for Specter and Phantom clinging so close to him to keep warm. Though, he couldn't exactly blame them. They came ill prepared for the weather, and though they're quite fuzzy themselves, it's likely they've never been to someplace as cold as this.

Surprisingly, out of all the others, Rue seemed to be suffering from the cold the most, despite them not only having a dense fur coat but a long cloak that covered most of their body. They were the most prepared out of all of them, and yet they were shaking like a leaf.

Sonic looks down at Rue from his spot on the Tornado's wings. “You good? You're, uh… You're shaking a lot.”

Rue huffed and grumbled, their breath turning to mist in the cold air.

“... I'll take that as a no.”

Tails points at something down below, what looks like a lone building in the endless expanse of snow and ice. A bunker, perhaps. “T-there it is!” he cried, shivering, “That’s the base! The Emeralds should be in there!”

“Alright! Let’s hurry up and find a place to land.”

Soon, the plane descended. The landing was rough and bumpy due to the snow and ice, nearly knocking Sonic and the twins off of the wings, but Sonic held onto them, and eventually the plane stopped relatively safely.

The group unboarded, and the twins left Sonic’s side to huddle close to Rue, seeking shelter under her cloak. Tails did much the same with Sonic, keeping close as the group moved on and entered the base.

Though it was much warmer inside, it was dark and dusty, hard to make out what was up ahead. The atmosphere was heavy, a weight in the air that presses down on them all, especially Sonic. Energy stirred throughout, buzzing in Sonic’s ears and making his fur stand up. It felt hard to breathe, but he continued onward.

The group takes a lift down and slowly descends into the main base. The descent is quiet.

Once off the lift, Rue sniffs the air, before walking on ahead and leaving the others behind.

“Hey, I don’t think we should split up,” Tails said as he saw Rue walk off.

Rue glared at him and Sonic. “None of you should even be here. This was never your fight. It’s mine.”

“You wouldn’t be here at all without our help,” Sonic retorted, “Why are you still–”

She growled back at him. There was something odd about her gaze, a strange magenta glow deep within her pupils shining brighter than it’s ever been. Sonic went quiet. She continues walking.

“We’re not leaving you alone,” Specter speaks up, leading them to stop once more, “You shouldn’t have to face this by yourself.”

Phantom nods in agreement. “You’re not well, Rue. You need help.”

Rue huffs. “I don’t need help. I don’t need you getting in the way…” they grumbled, then, in a softer tone, “... Don’t need you getting hurt…”

They shake their head, before continuing onward, walking off and leaving the view of the others.

The twins try to follow after them, but Sonic stops the two. “Let ‘em go,” he says, “We’ll catch up eventually, but we gotta worry about finding the Chaos Emeralds first.”

He then turns to Tails, who was holding his Miles Electric and looking at the map on its screen. “You’ve got our map, so lead the way.”

Tails nods. “Right! Follow me!” He hurries on ahead, tails wagging as he leads the others down the dark halls of the base.

The group walked on for what felt like hours, passing by rooms upon rooms filled with machines glowing in eerie purple hues. The energy extractors Sonic had seen the day this adventure started, back in that not-so-abandoned base. They whirred and buzzed, the noise sending a shiver down his spine.

“Are you guys sure this is the right way?” Phantom questioned.

“Yeah, we’ve been walking for, like, forever now, and still haven’t found anything,” Specter said.

“I can’t see an exact location with this, just the general area where Chaos Energy spikes,” Tails replied, “But we’re getting close, I know it.”

Sonic stretched. He was getting sick of walking. If only he could just run ahead… but this place was cramped, unlike the base he’d run through before, and he didn’t want to leave the others behind like Rue did. What if they got ambushed by Badniks and got hurt? What if Nox did what he’d done to him? Injected them with Dark Gaia Energy and turned them into beasts? What if they didn’t survive? Tails did say the amount of energy inside him right now would be lethal to the average person when he ran those tests…

Sonic shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that. Not now. It didn’t do him any good to worry about what ifs. Besides, that just wasn't like him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots an open room. Unlike the others, which were lit up by the energy extractors within, this one was completely dark. He goes inside, leading the others to follow.

He searches the walls with his paw. “There’s gotta be a light switch or somethin’ around here…” he mumbled.

“You can’t see in the dark?” Specter asked, tilting her head slightly. Was she genuinely confused by that?

“I mean, yeah? Kind of? Not that well, to be honest.” He continued searching, until… “Aha! There–!”

The lights come on like a flashbang, leaving Sonic instantly blinded. Though it didn’t seem like the others were at all bothered, he stood there like a deer in headlights while his eyes adjusted.

He shook it off, rubbed his eyes and looked around the room, ignoring the others’ slightly worried, mostly confused and maybe a bit amused looks. There was a computer with multiple large monitors against the back wall, a rolling chair in front of it, papers and books of all kinds strewn about. Many storage cabinets lined the walls, with even more books and files stored inside, as well as vials and jars and other such containers with Dark Gaia Energy inside.

Tails picked up a book off the ground, along with some papers. “This is… This is Professor Pickle’s research. And a bunch of notes on the properties of Dark and Light Gaia energy.”

While Tails looked at the other books and notes scattered around the room, Specter, Phantom, and Sonic looked over the computer.

Specter looks at Tails as he continues to sift through the collection of books around the room. “Hey, um, Tails? Think you can turn this on? We… wanna see something.”

Sonic quirked an eyebrow.

“On it!” Tails left the books behind and hurried over to the computer, plugging in his Miles Electric into it before pressing a button on its giant keyboard. As it boots up, Tails types something into his handheld, and gets past the lock screen without having to input a password. Sonic wasn’t exactly sure what he did, but it was impressive nonetheless.

“What’re you guys looking for?” Sonic asked the twins as the group looked over the computer’s home screen. A blank wallpaper, multiple programs he couldn't recognize, and a series of folders. “Modified Badnik Plans,” “Gaia Manuscripts,” “Gaia Manuscripts Translation,” “Dark Gaia Energy Properties,” “Light Gaia Energy Properties,” and…

One of them caught Sonic’s eye. “Subject Profiles.”

Phantom stared that folder down. “I think that’s it.”

“Rue’s told us about what Nox did to them, about how he turned them into… that,” Specter explained, “But they never gave us all the details.”

“We’ve known them for a while, but they never opened up about it,” Phantom continued, “We could tell there was more to it, and it weighed heavily on their soul. So… we wanna know everything. So we can help her.”

“Right…” That made sense to Sonic. Rue never gave him any details when they first met either. Not like he expected her to- they were totally strangers at that time. They still kind of are, if he’s honest. They haven’t had much time to really talk, and Rue was… reserved, to put it lightly.

It felt weird, finding this while she’s not in the room. Invasive, even. But this could give some more insight into Nox’s plans, and tell them a bit more as to why Rue is like this, even give them some idea on how they could all help, so he took the mouse and guided the cursor to that folder.

A double-click, and the folder opens up, revealing a list of names extending past the end of the screen. He scrolled down. Sonic didn’t count exactly how many, but there had to be at least 30 or so names in that list.

A name calls to him. “Rubí Rosario.” He opens the file.

There is an image of a young canine mobian. They have long light blue and white fur, and wear a pink dress, with a red flower hairpin.

They look just like the child in that nightmare.

They are smiling.

He reads further.

“Subject name: Rubí Rosario

Age: 10

Sex: Female

Species: Mobian (Wolf/Husky Hybrid)

Subject was administered 10 mL of liquid concentrated Dark Gaia Energy through injection. Subject suffered physical mutations far beyond anything recorded thus far, gained exponential muscle mass and experienced rapid fur and nail growth, as well as sudden growth of teeth, particularly canines. Subject showed signs of severe confusion, heightened aggression, and an inability to speak. Subject attacked, and I was forced to defend myself.

Subject escaped before further examination could be performed, with severe injuries to lower back. Whereabouts currently unknown. Presumed dead.

Addendum: Subject has been found. Or, rather, she has found me. This makes her the only one to survive thus far. Unable to recapture for further examination.”

Below are images from what looks to be security footage. Snippets of the young pup transforming, turning into a large beast with dark fur and claws. Blue and fur became midnight, markings glowing on their body. Like that of a Dark Gaia Beast.

“That’s… that’s her,” Specter muttered, a hand over her mouth.

Everyone stared at the file. The air grew cold and heavy around them.

Sonic closed the file, leaving the screen back on the list of names. He realized the two files before it shared the same last name as Rubí's. “Esmeralda Rosario” and “Alejandro Rosario.”

He clicked on Esmeralda’s file. There was a picture of a tall canine mobian with curled minty green and gray fur, wearing a white and red dress. She was accompanied by the pup from earlier, as well as a husky with dark blue and white fur.

“Subject name: Esmeralda Rosario

Age: 36

Sex: Female

Species: Mobian (Wolf)

Subject was administered 10 mL of liquid concentrated Dark Gaia Energy through injection. Subject became confused and experienced minor mutations, including slight fur growth, a minor increase in muscle mass, and minor bone fractures throughout her body.

Dose proved lethal. Subject died of cardiac arrest minutes after administration of Dark Gaia Energy.”

Sonic felt anger bubbling inside of him. He closed that file without looking at the images below, and moved on to Alejandro’s. The same picture from before appeared on the screen again.

“Name: Alejandro Rosario

Age: 34

Sex: Male

Species: Mobian (Husky)

Subject was administered 5 mL of liquid concentrated Dark Gaia Energy through injection. Subject suffered no visible mutations, but became violent, showed signs of confusion, and had difficulty speaking. Subject attempted to attack me before I left the room, then began to harm himself via scratching and biting.

Dose proved lethal. Subject died of cardiac arrest hours after administration of Dark Gaia Energy.”

Sonic closed that file, then closed the whole list. He didn’t want to read any more. He couldn’t. His blood boiled.

“Those… were Rue’s parents, weren’t they?” Tails uttered.

Phantom continued to stare at the screen. “So they weren’t the only one. He used their family, too. And many others.”

Specter gripped her own arm tightly, gritting her teeth. “He killed them… and he wrote about it like it was nothing. Sick bastard.”

Sonic took a deep breath and walked away from the monitors. He wanted to find out more about Nox’s plans specifically, but, frankly, he didn’t care how or why he was going to destroy the world. He’s hurt enough people as it is, and he’s going to stop him before he can hurt any more. He promised Rue, and he’s going to keep that promise.

He takes another deep breath to collect himself, then sighs. Purple smoke slips through his teeth. “Come on. The Chaos Emeralds aren’t here, so let’s keep–”

A loud roar shakes the base’s walls, reverberating from deeper down the hallway. There’s a bang, then a thud, then the sound of rapid footsteps hurrying down the hall.

Sonic and the others exit the room to see Nox running as fast as he could, past the group and towards the lift. He carried the white Chaos Emerald in one of his many hands, but no others.

There’s another bang as something big crashes into the wall. A dark figure charges after Nox on all fours, snarling wildly. The magenta eyes of a Nightmare pierce the darkness, wide and unfocused and filled with nothing but rage. Specter and Phantom stare at the beast in horror as it runs past them, purple smoke spewing out of its mouth.

It’s Rue. The beast rampaging down the hall was Rue.

Sonic immediately gives chase. He sees Nox hold onto a small Spinner as it carries him up the shaft faster than the lift could have. Rue viciously climbs the wall of the shaft with their bare claws, keeping pace with him as they chase him down.

Sonic climbs after them as best he could as the others follow below on the lift. He reaches the top of the shaft soon after Nox and Rue, and sees them run out the door, into the snow outside. He hurries after them.

“Stay away from me, you foul beast!” Nox yells.

Rue roars, slashing at him as he’s carried off into the air by the small Badnik. She barely manages to scratch his arm, making him drop the white, glimmering gem in the snow. He winces in pain, red blood dripping from his wound.

“You really are nothing but a monster, Rubí, and no amount of playing hero will make that untrue. Your heart is blackened by a thirst for violence, I can see it in your eyes.”

Rue roars at him once more as he begins to fly off.

“You cannot stop me, not even with the help of your friends,” he taunted, “You all, along with this dirty world will come to an end, just as it should have years ago.”

Rue tried to give chase once more, but Sonic tackled them to the ground. Their tail, now much longer with a blade-like tip, thrashed about as they pushed him off and pinned him down on the cold snow. They snarled, baring their teeth. Strange markings glow across their midnight fur, on their arms and paws and around their face, false eyes staring at him from nearly every angle. They held him down, their paws pinning his arms and keeping him from fighting back.

“Rue! What are you doing! Snap out of it!” Sonic cried.

Rue could only growl in response.

She raised a paw, brandishing claws glowing cyan as she prepared to strike. There, Sonic took the opening to push her off of him, getting back onto his feet and building distance between them.

But it’s not enough to keep her away. She charges, biting down on his arm with a force he’d never imagined possible from a living being. Her teeth pierce his skin, tear his flesh. There’s a sickening crunch, and green blood spills, staining the snow under them.

Sonic’s mind starts to fog.

NO! Focus! She needs help! You can’t lose it now! You can’t!

He punches them straight in the gut with as much strength as he could muster in that moment, causing them to release his arm and stumble back. Green blood dripped from their mouth as they continued to snarl at him.

Now’s his chance to stop this.

“Rubí! Listen to me!”

They froze as their real name left Sonic’s mouth.

He charged towards them, and wrapped his arms around their shoulders, knocking them back onto the snow. He hugged them tight as they both lay on the ground. Time seems to stop moving at that moment.

“Easy. It’s over. You’ve already chased him off. We’ll catch up to him when we can,” he spoke into their ear in as soft and gentle of a tone as he could, “I promised you, didn’t I? I promised that we’d stop him before he could hurt anyone else. And we will. But we can’t do that if you’re like this.”

He heard footsteps in the snow. Tails, Specter, and Phantom calling their names. But they seemed distant, muffled by the pounding of his own heart, and Rue’s.

“I know you don’t really want to hurt me. You’re just angry. You’re lashing out because you couldn’t catch him.” He looked up at their face, and they stared back with an unreadable expression. “You let him get to your head. That’s okay. But let’s take a breather and figure out where to go from here, ‘kay?”

They whimper and whine, returning his embrace as their fur slowly turns back to its usual dark teal. He feels their tears, warm and wet, falling onto his skin, and they begin to sob into his shoulder.

He closed his eyes, ignoring the searing pain of his wounded arm, and just let them cry for as long as they needed.

#project: new moon #sonic the hedgehog #sonic the werehog #miles tails prower #sonic oc #sonic au #sonic fanfic #sonic fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

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danthediamondminecart · 7 months ago

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U still doing rbb headcanons? If you are, can you do some updated host headcanons (bc they are prob outdated since s3) or just terabrite headcanons please 🙏 🥺(I need more rbb content istg ) ( I am not mentally well /j)

Hello yes I do in fact have RBB headcanons for you :3

I'm going to have to put this under a read more as it's a lot (and it's mainly ramblings about powerset headcanons bc I have THOUGHTS on that) so strap in.

Hosts in general:

The hosts, who were originally human, basically got ‘blessed’ / ‘cursed’ (depending on how you see it) by their respective concepts and now both represent / are possessed by / basically are those concepts. They each have differing opinions on what happened but one thing’s for sure - they’re now wielders of Agility, Healing and Truth respectively

Each of the hosts have 3 different types of powers, with a different spread for each, and these powers often correspond to the powers of their weapons:

Powers that act on themselves

Powers that act on others

Area of effect powers

Some of these powers are passive (unconscious, happens all of / most of the time) but most are active (requires conscious activation)

They can use their powers without their respective objects, but it is a lot more effective if they do use em

They get funky particle effects when they use their power (as well as their hair and eyes glowing, especially with overusage - they've still got human bodies, so they do have their limits!)

If the sword gets cracked they get physical ‘cracks’ on their skin (same with the instruments, probably?)

Though really the instruments only got powered up as a response to their gaining powers, as opposed to the swords giving them the powers

They can fuse their swords giving one of them combo abilities/moves while the other temporarily loses their abilities

I haven’t really thought of these combo moves yet, but I think DJ and Russo would give some level of super-intelligence, DJ and Sabrina could do rapid healing and perhaps even evolution / power boosts?

They tend to avoid doing this as it’s very disorientating for the host that loses their powers and exhausting for the host that gains one and let the Battler wield/fuse the decoy swords (see my old headcanons for an explanation on that) instead. It only happens if one of the hosts is compromised and it’s an emergency.

Yes they did make the megasword yes it went poorly for all involved (they can wield concepts, but their bodies can barely wield one, let alone 3…)

They’ve got a ‘Power Trio’ dynamic, following the expected roles (with some subversions)

DJ acts as one extreme: he’s the Superego / the Blue Oni / the pessimistic one

Sabrina acts as the middle ground: she’s the Ego / the Purple Oni / the reasonable one

Russo acts as the other extreme: he’s the Id / the Red Oni. / the optimistic one

Atypically however, DJ despite being the Blue Oni is more suited for combat whereas Russo as the Red Oni is more suited for intelligence

This sliding scale of intensity comes up a lot for them, with Sabrina almost always being in the middle with DJ and Russo being two extremes

S3 Specific:

This one differs depending on people so I’ll say it anyway: Russo and the clone in S3 (Recoded) are different people, Russo took the clone’s place at the end of the FB

Sneaky self promo, that was all explored in the GOSSIP animatic

Originally JP wanted to kidnap and replace Sabrina for Maximum Angst Power (bc DJ would’ve probably lost it if his wife went missing or started acting odd) but their clone of Sabrina (the Great Woman) failed and went berserk, so since Recoded worked they kidnapped Russo instead

They’re actually quite lucky they kidnapped Russo over Sabrina, because if Russo was in a similar situation to DJ and Sabrina during S3, he would’ve just walked right up to ‘Sabrina’ before ‘she’ could ‘go missing’ and proceed to use his powers on ‘her’

This actually happened in the Swap AU with DJ in Russo’s place

DJ Monopoli:

Passively has super-speed, super strength and super endurance (sword), actively can hover just a tiny bit off the ground (dynamic dashers)

He can also absorb / give energy out to others, either making them tired or giving them a boost in energy

He doesn’t have an area of effect power,,,but we’ll see if/what S4 gives him (I’ve seen people suggest portals so?? Maybe those??)

His powers tend to take the form of green electricity, which he can use to his advantage

This isn’t set in stone yet, but I’ve been toying with the idea of DJ having robotic legs, because constantly moving at superhuman speeds while still having human legs is kind of rough on said legs

(Don’t worry, he’s not the only member of the RBB cast who has replaced their legs.)

The easiest to get angry out of the hosts

Isn’t as good at getting his point across than the other two, so is willing to over explain things so people get what he means

The Fighter, and will usually be the one to attack any threats and do the physical combat, as well as acting as security if there are no current eminent threats.

This is how he ended up forced to dance by Albert when Albert broke into the studio during S2 - he was the first wall Albert had to break through, and Albert used most of his power on him

If he’s not with the other two doing Host Things, he’s probably in the music studio doing…music things

Also the most fashionable of the hosts, surprisingly enough. His wardrobe is filled with suits and he has little to no casual clothing.

Sabrina:

Passively heals herself over time and can actively heal others wounds (from the sword)

Can also actively reverse said healing by opening old wounds (or just straight up attacking them, but that’s booooring. this is from the cyber shredder), or can use her powers to act as a painkiller / soothing mechanism

She can make a ‘healing dome’ where everyone in the area heals just a little bit quicker / is soothed

Her powers tend to take the form of purple plus-shaped particles

The Mage, the healer and planner of the group, but she would much rather be out there fighting monsters and doing the tough stuff

She’s still a really good fighter because of the fact that you can’t easily make a dent on her, she’ll just heal herself up

She’ll drop everything to make sure someone is safe and uninjured, but she’ll be mad about it! And will endlessly lecture the injured party because “STOP TRYING TO ATTACK THE ROBOTS WITHOUT ANY WEAPONS”

Strangely enough, is the scariest out of the hosts. No one knows how she pulls this off, but she just does

(It’s probably because her powers relate to people’s general wellbeing…whether that’s good or bad.)

The most paranoid, and the quickest to panic over something going wrong. She does her best to stay positive in the face of change, but she shows her weaknesses now and then

If you look at her you’d think she listens to lofi and pop. Nope, heavy metal

Somehow still doesn’t know the Great Woman exists

Russo:

Passively has Truth Detection (different to lie detection - he can’t tell if you’re lying without actively using his powers on you, but he can always tell if you’re telling the truth), and can understand all languages

Battle Life SMP readers - that last one will be relevant soon!

Actively has Lie Detection, limited mind reading and mind control - said control is more effective over robots (hence, Robotic Resonators), but he can do it on people. It takes a lot out of him if he does though, even if he is using his Resonators

Area of effect power being able to reveal/see anything hidden in a room (sword)

His powers take the form of blue ‘dot’ particles as well as anyone under his power’s effect eyes turning blue

The Thief, the one who works in intelligence. He can’t stand for himself on a battle field, he’s extremely physically weak - but he’s very good with people, and even better at interrogating them / getting information he needs out of people

Simultaneously a mom friend and the stupid one

Theatre kid

Can accidentally be a little bit too positive, and is (ironically) prone to ignoring the darkness of a situation at times

If he does realise a situation is dire though, he will get serious fast.

You don’t want to see Russo when he’s angry.

A little self conscious, but he’s better at dealing with it than some people (cough cough Kreek cough cough)

Has referred to the RBB participants as his kids. No one will ever let him live it down (and it’s not like Russo wants them to, they are his kids thanks very much)

He’s quite self conscious about the whole ‘getting kidnapped during S3’ thing. He blames himself for it and is overly apologetic about it, despite none of it being his fault

Enjoy :3

#I hope this wasn't too rambly I'm not the best at writing headcanons down #When I do they tend to become character introspection and analysis fast #long post #yandan rambles #rb battles #dj monopoli #russotalks #russoplays #sabrinabrite #rbbblr #yandan answers #headcanons #rbb headcanons #talking about what would've happened if the great woman succeeded kinda makes me wanna make that a proper au now #Also hopefully the formatting's easy to read

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twistedisciple · 1 year ago

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Fódlan Profile: Griss

PERSONAL INFORMATION

GENDER. Male AGE. 27 HEIGHT. 177cm BIRTHDATE. 9/17 CREST/HOLY BLOOD. None CLASS. Unaffiliated AFFILIATION.��Four Hounds

BIOGRAPHY. One member of a group that calls itself the Four Hounds. A long-time disciple of Lord Sombron, he was hand-selected to assist with the fell dragon's revival and subsequent plans. After suffering defeat at the hands of the Divine Dragon's army, he found himself in Fódlan, perhaps transported through one of the gates opened by Sombron's power. Loves pain, both receiving and inflicting it, so has no issue fighting for Garreg Mach while he waits for a divine sign to show him what to do next.

PERSONAL HISTORY

Age 0 - Born the only child to a pair of laborers in rural Elusia

Age 3 - Sold into slavery, eventually wound up in the hands of followers of the Fell Dragon

Age 15 - Selected by Zephia to join the group that would later be called the Four Hounds

Age 27 - Assisted with the resurrection of the fell dragon Sombron and later defeated alongside Zephia

Imperial Year 1181 - Hired as a mercenary by the Church of Seiros

INTERESTS. Fell Religion, Body Modification, Sewing, Crafting, Fishing LIKES. Pain, being rewarded, nature, animals, flowers, scary stories DISLIKES. Training, sweets, extreme heat or cold, fluffy toys, bugs, bland foods, the Divine Dragon STATUS. Former member of the Four Hounds CLOSE ALLIES: Zephia, Marni, Mauvier, Veyle

DINING HALL PREFERENCES

LIKES. daphnel stew, gronder meat skewers, two-fish saute, fisherman's bounty, sauteed jerky, sweet and salty whitefish saute, super-spicy fish dango, garreg mach meat pie, grilled herring, onion gratin soup, pickled rabbit skewers, fish and bean soup, pickled seafood and vegetables

DISLIKES. saghert and cream, sweet bun trio, peach sorbet, country-style red turnip plate, cabbage and herring stew

DINING HALL NOTES

FAVORITE DISH. ✧

"Oh yeah, that hits the spot."

LEAST FAVORITE DISH. ✧

"Beggars can't be choosers, huh..."

TEAM TIME GUIDE

FAVORITE TEA. Cinnamon blend

CONVERSATION TOPICS. a place you'd like to visit. a word of advice. close calls. evaluating allies. exploring the monastery. I'm counting on you. monastery rules. our first meeting. overcoming weaknesses. past laughs. reliable allies. someone you look up to. thanks for everything. the ideal professor. the last battle. working together. a dinner invitation. capable comrades. food in the dining hall. gifts you'd like to receive. books you've read recently. fashion. guessing someone's age. heart-racing memories. relaxing at the sauna. I heard some gossip. you seem different. working hours for guards. the ideal relationship. cooking mishaps. the view from the bridge. children at the market. monastery security. memorable scars. different ways to be hurt. new piercings.

TEA TIME QUOTES

GREETING. ✧

"Not really a guy who likes sitting around sipping tea, so you're gonna have to do something for me when we're done."

FAVORITE TEA. ✧

“Huh? This one's not bad.”

FIVE STAR TEA. ✧

“You must've paid a fortune for this. Too bad I can't tell it apart from the others.”

BEING OBSERVED. ✧

(1) "Wondering about my tattoo? Hold still and I'll give ya one to match." (2) “Plenty of people stare. I don't always let 'em walk away though." (3) “If you got nothing to say, let's have some fun instead."

QUIPS. ✧

"Mmm." “Huh?” “Sure.” “Knock it off.” “Whatever you say.” “Nah.” “What the hell?!” “Want me to hurt ya?” “What d'you mean?” “Sounds boring." “Yeah."

ENDING. ✧

"Can't say there aren't better things I coulda been doing, but I'm not about to let you forget you owe me one now."

FINAL COMMENTS. ✧

(1) I grew up in a monastery where 'afternoon tea' was just a few extra lashes from the whip. ANSWER. Chat, Praise

(2) Fell scripture's against this sorta thing, you know. ANSWER. Nod, Chat

(3) Each one of these tattoos is a scar. Wanna hear how I got 'em? You're gonna have to beat the stories outta me. ANSWER. Laugh, Praise

(4) This is one hell of a punishment, and not the fun kind. ANSWER. Disagree, Admonish

(5) The Four Hounds were handpicked to serve Lord Sombron. Marni thought we were his favorites, but if you ask me, we were just convenient. ANSWER. Commend, Sip Tea

(6) What's your favorite way to be hurt? Mine? Heh. You'll have to find out. ANSWER. Laugh, Chat, Blush (you know who you are)

(7) I know every way to make you hurt just shy of killing you. But I can do that too, if ya want. Answer: Sip Tea, Disagree, Blush (you know who you are)

(8) Friends? Family? Only as good as you can use 'em. ANSWER. Chat, Disagree

(9) Pain's good for everything: education, punishment, torture... even pleasure. ANSWER. Nod, Sip tea

MISCELLANEOUS DIALOGUE.

GIFT GUIDE

FAVORITE GIFTS. Hunting Dagger, Pitcher Plant, Coffee Beans, Fishing Float, Owl Feather DISLIKED GIFTS. Armored Bear Stuffy, Training Weights, Monarch Studies Book

GIFT QUOTES

DISLIKED GIFT. ✧

"Thanks but no thanks."

LIKED GIFT. ✧

"If you're just giving it away for free, I'll take it off your hands."

FAVORITE GIFT. ✧

"This my reward for a job well done?"

LOST ITEMS

SEWING KIT. A small box containing needles of different sizes. It probably belongs to someone skilled in all types of stitch work. Location found: Infirmary

DECORATIVE SASH. A strip of cloth embroidered with eyes of the fell dragon. It probably belongs to a fanatic of the fell church. Location found: Alleyway near Abyss

SPIKED CILICE. A loop of iron worn around the wrist with sharp prongs facing inward. It probably belongs to someone who enjoys pain. Location found: Outside the sauna

LOST ITEM QUOTES OWNER. ✧

"Huh? Yeah, that's mine. Wanna know what it's good for?"

NOT OWNER. ✧

"Never seen this before. Better try someone else."

BATTLE QUOTES

MOCK BATTLE RETREAT. ✧

“As much as I wanna keep playing, rules are rules.”

FIRST KILL. ✧

"Hahahaha! Where's the next one?"

MONASTERY QUOTES

CHOIR PRACTICE. ✧

"You gonna punish me if I sing for Lord Sombron instead?"

COOKING. ✧

"Look at these knives. They got all kinds in here, and each one's kept deadly sharp. Huh? Oh, dinner. Yeah, yeah, just leave it to me."

TUTORING

INSTRUCT

BAD. ✧

"So what's the punishment? Do your worst, Teach."

Critique: Yeah, you got it. Console: Don't waste your breath. Bring out the whip already.

GREAT. ✧

"Next guy in my way is gonna hurt so good." “Better to serve Lord Sombron.”

PERFECT. ✧

"Where's my reward?"

PRAISE. "Can it. Praise is for chumps."

TASKS

STABLE DUTY. ✧

“Wonder what it feels like to have a piece of metal nailed to your foot. Let's find out.”

WEEDING. ✧

"Weeds got their uses, too, believe it or not. Just not where they gotta look pretty to fit in."

SKY WATCH. ✧

“Why do pegasus knights always walk around like they got a stick up their ass when flying like this would be any thrill-seeker's dream." (with Zephia) "So this is what you feel like all the way up here. I could get used to this.”

CERTIFICATION EXAMS

FAILED. ✧

"This is why I didn't go to Elusia's academy."

PASSED. ✧

"What?"

UPDATE GOALS

REASON. ✧

“Magic's always done me right when it comes to killing, but Fódlan's Reason is a whole different beast. I need to know it inside and out if I'm gonna find all the best ways to bring the pain here. Show me the ropes, and I mean I want you to make me feel it!”

FAITH. ✧

“Learning to stitch up wounds and set bones was a necessity back home, but I'd like to take a crack at this kind of magic that calls on Faith. The fun's all over once you die, you know. Putting someone back together keeps it going for as long as you want. Lord Sombron would probably approve, yeah?”

BRAWLING. ✧

“Magic's great 'n all, but being out of reach kinda takes the fun outta the fight. I wanna learn to fight up close so the other guy'll get a better shot at me. Plus, I've seen the kind of damage those steel gloves can do to a person's skull. Got me excited just thinking about it.”

LEVEL UP

0 TO 2 STATS UP . ✧

“That's it?”

3 TO 4 STATS UP . ✧

“Oh yeah, now we're talkin'!”

5 STATS UP . ✧

“Bring on the pain! I'm gonna make you ALL feel it!”

6 STATS UP . ✧

“You watchin', Lord Sombron? All this blood's consecrating the place for ya!”

UPON REACHING LEVEL 99 . ✧

“It's never enough. All this suffering's never gonna be enough, but I'm not about to stop!”

BUDDING TALENT

“So I got other tricks after all.”

NEW SKILL

“I'll get some use outta this.”

RECLASSING . ✧

“Tell me what you want, and I'll do it.”

BATTLE QUOTES

WHEN SELECTED

FULL/HIGH HP . ✧

“Whatever you need.”

MEDIUM HP . ✧

“Fun's just getting started!"

LOW HP . ✧

“Ahahaha!”

ENEMY DEALS 1 OR NO DAMAGE OR MISSES . ✧

(1) “So slow.” (2) “Nah.”

CRTIICAL ATTACK . ✧

(1) “Allow me!” (2) “Rejoice!” (3) “This is gonna hurt!” (4) "I'll show you pain!”

GAMBIT . ✧

“You scared?”

GAMBIT BOOST . ✧

“We're about to have some fun.”

DEFEATED ENEMY . ✧

(1) “The Hounds send their regards.” (2) “How was that?” (3) “I almost envy you.” (4) “Where's my reward?” (5) “Rude.”

ALLY DEFEATS ENEMY . ✧

(1) “Hey, leave some for me!” (2) “That looked painful.” (3) “Look at you go.”

ALLY HEALS/RALLIES . ✧

(1) “I'm back in.” (2) “Got me back on my feet.” (3) “Pain's gone.”

DEFEAT QUOTE

CASUAL . ✧

“Exquisite..”

CLASSIC . ✧

"Nothing... hurts me... anymore...“

THE ADVICE BOX

"Punishment's the only way to fix someone who's strayed off course, but no one's got the guts to lay a hand on me. What's the deal?"

>There are other ways to guide someone (Correct answer) >The monastery is full of cowards >Have you tried a hug?

#headcanons #// finally finished this... took so much lateral thinking to fit griss into this setting #// made me realize that even toned down a bit there is still something deeply wrong with him #// having tea with him would be a Trip #// you'd probably need to be the kind of person who could both take him seriously and also not get ruffled by the things he says #// some of his battle quotes are straight from the game data #// others are inspired by or taken from gregory's #// tfw the only way you know how to connect to other people is by hurting them or them hurting you

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years ago

Text

The God of Magic just wants humanity to be happy and thriving;

Version 1, Good!Merlin

INTRO

(Version 2, Dark!Merlin)

“You’re late.”

From their place in the bushes, the gang can see a wide grin break out on the woman’s face as she raises an eyebrow:

“You’re always getting distracted by pretty flowers or interesting conversations, how was I supposed to know that you’d be on time for once?”

Her voice somehow sounds like an ocean in a storm, ear-splittingly loud as the sound cuts right through them to the core, but also a gentle stream, soft and clear and soul-cleansing. The gang struggle not to flinch in their confusion.

Merlin chuckles slightly, shaking his head as he softly replies:

“Ah, I see, you were expecting me to be late, so you told me to turn up half a candle-mark before you intended to get here.”

She raises an eyebrow and nods:

“In the hopes I wouldn’t have to stand around and wait too long,-”

She shudders slightly as her face falls, though she manages to look beautifully intimidating even with a slight scowl on her face:

“-you know how much I hate it up here, on dry land.”

Merlin nods. He looks around him passingly, and the gang tense as his eyes rove over their hiding place; their fear is quickly replaced with shock (and even more confusion) as it strikes them that they’ve never seen Merlin look so relaxed, so at ease. He finally looks back to the woman:

“Hmm. I may not agree with you on that, but I understand. I could have met you at Avalon, you know.”

The woman frowns even more, and the gang can see Merlin tilt his head in question, even more so when she replies:

“I... wanted this conversation to be private, away from the prying eyes and ears of Mother and our Siblings.”

Merlin’s shoulders tense, and Arthur can vaguely see the outline of his hands clenching tightly in his pockets as his cloak billows in a sudden wind. The knights, Gwen, and Morgana all look to each other in confusion, Merlin had never spoken of siblings before, in fact, they’re fairly certain he specifically told them that he’s an only child. This woman was so drastically different from Merlin in appearance, they couldn’t possibly be related by blood. Perhaps she means "siblings" in a similar sense to how the knights are brothers?

A tense silence passes between the two, but it’s quickly broken by Merlin letting out a deep, bone-weary sigh, his relaxed demeanour completely dissolved, and looking to the floor, mumbling:

“What’s this about, Ava?”

The woman, Ava, the gang now know, lets out a sigh of her own, tilting her head and waiting for Merlin to look at her again before speaking, her voice sounding more consistently soft the more she spoke, as if she needed practice to regulate her volume:

“I think you know, Em.-”

(”Em?? I guess that could be a shortened version of ‘Merlin’, but... not really.”)

“-Time is running out, existence is threadbare as it is, and only getting worse with each passing day. The world is splitting, cracking down the middle; magic is running thin-”

Everyone feels Arthur tense at the mention of magic, even more so at Merlin’s non-reaction to the word. Though everyone is already understandably on edge by the way the woman speaks as if the world is ending around them, and they hadn’t even noticed:

“-and we are starving. The fates of The Bane-”

Mordred manages to stop himself falling backwards, but his sudden shaky breath earns him a concerned glance from Gwaine, crouched besides him:

“-and The Darkness have been avoided, if you do not move forward now, then when? With every day you stall, you plan, you stand idly by and wait, we choke on the gaping emptiness of a world that is leaking.-”

Merlin holds up a shaking hand to stop her, his other running through his hair in frustration as he murmurs:

“I know, I know-”

The gang watches with tense, morbid curiosity as Ava cuts him off, her expression both annoyed and sympathetic:

“I don’t think you do, Em. You haven’t been home in years. Could you stand it? To be God of Magic with no Magic to be God over? No universe to hold dominion over?”

Merlin scoffs slightly and walks to the side in his frustration, and the gang can see the melancholy annoyance on his face, plain as day. It’s almost enough to make them forget that he visited Ealdor just last month. It’s definitely not enough to distract them from the fact that she had called Merlin a God. The God of Magic, of all things. What the fuck??:

“I don’t hold dominion over anything I just... am.”

Ava rolls her eyes:

“That’s not the point and you know it. Mother sent you to fix the problem, to stop the purge, to encourage the Once and Future King to bring magic back and start the Golden Age. He has been King for years, but you still act as a servant. You are a God, Em, assert yourself. You could fix the world with a click of your fingers, but you wait for the humans to do it for you.-”

Merlin interrupts her slightly impassioned speech with a deep huff and a shake of the head. From where he now stands, the gang have a healthy view of his side profile, and they can see the emotions warring on his face: frustration, grief, desperation:

“That isn’t... that’s not what I’m doing-”

She rolls her eyes again and the gang are vaguely aware of a distant crack of thunder as she gestures sharply with her hands:

“That is what you’re doing. You’ve become too attached to these... mortals.-”

She steps towards him, cradling his cheek in a soft, elegant hand as her face morphs to one of complete and utter sorrow:

“-You’re setting yourself up for heartbreak, Brother. Human lifespans, the lifespan of your precious Golden King, are but a blink of an eye compared to ours; they will all wither and die and fade from you, and you will be left with your grief forever.-”

Her other hand lifts to settle comfortingly on his shoulder, and the gang can see a single tear slip from Merlin’s lowered eyes:

“-Do what you came here to do, and come home, to Avalon, we miss you, Em, the family needs you back.”

Merlin stills for a few moments at her desperate plea, but then steps back, shrugging her hands off gently and wiping the tear from his face:

“No. I... I’m doing this properly. Mother understands my fondness for humanity, that’s why she sent me, and I’m going to do it properly.”

Ava huffs out a gentle laugh at his determined expression, shaking her head slightly in fond disbelief:

“How can you love them? These... humans, when they slaughter your creations, when they don’t even know what you are?”

Merlin smiles softly, his eyes gazing into the trees as he quietly responds, his voice full of enough adoration to take the gang's breath away, to temper the twinge of fear and betrayal that had been swelling in Arthur’s lungs:

"I love them because they don't know what I am. It's nice, to be human; to walk among them, being loved and hated and respected and touched as if I were not more than they could ever possibly comprehend. Humanity is... made of juxtapositions. Their existence is contradiction upon contradiction, weaved together and held with emotions so large I can scarcely understand how they're contained in such little bodies. I've been alive and watching them for millennia, lived side-by-side with them for almost three decades, and they still surprise me. To walk among them, to see them come to terms with this universe that We made for them, to see how desperately they crave knowledge, exploration, experience... it's beautiful. The way they love so fully, the way they find meaning and importance in every grain of sand, every ray of sun, every tuft of fur on every creature, it's humbling. It's astounding."

Ava has a soft smile on her face, looking as if she could listen to her Brother ramble about his love for humanity for decades. She shakes her head slightly, letting out a gentle sigh as she asks:

"Then why won't you save them? The Gods will starve without magic, but humanity will starve without the Gods."

Merlin pauses for a moment, his face scrunched in concentration as he tries to think of the right way to verbalize his thoughts.

The gang stare on in unconcealed bafflement; the realisation that Merlin is some kind of God brings less fear or anger than they think it should. Maybe it’s the shock, or maybe it’s the reverent way he speaks about them. Either way, they stay still and silent in their hiding place, and eventually Merlin’s face settles back into a soft smile as he looks to his Sister:

"I wish to see them save themselves, not because We need them to, but because they want to. Because their desperation to explore this universe will one day outweigh their misguided hatred of magic.-"

He nods decisively, repeating in a confident voice:

"-I wish to see them save themselves."

Ava sighs once more, stepping toward Merlin and putting her hand back on his shoulder:

“Your wishes may soon become... irrelevant. We’re dying, Emrys,-”

Arthur struggles to hold in a gasp at that. Emrys. He knows that name. Apparently it’s the name of a God, and not just some secret sorcerer who took a fancy to Camelot and deemed himself it’s protector. Lancelot’s eyes widen, though he manages to hide his shock well; no one else is focused on anyone else’s reactions, all internally freaking out.

Mordred is pale and breathing shallowly, being the only one in the group who had already known the full truth. Percival looks to be in shock, he grew up with the stories of Emrys, but to learn that Emrys was a God? That Merlin was said God? Not what he was expecting out of this little trip. Gwaine, Gwen, Morgana, and Elyan look worried, seeming to have pushed aside their shock in favour of being concerned over Merlin’s safety and sorrow. Leon stares upon the scene with scholarly-looking curiosity, hiding his apprehension and shock well. Arthur’s expression is... unreadable. Ironically, the only person capable of knowing what he was thinking just from looking at him was currently having an incredibly terrifying conversation with someone who is also presumably some kind of God(dess).

“-time is running out. I know that you don’t want to, but... it might be best to tell them the truth. You adore your humans because of their ability to love, do you not think they love you enough to forgive you your deceptions?”

Merlin clenches his jaw, and it’s the anguish on his face, paired with his almost-whispered words, that breaks their hearts:

“I... no. Just because I love them does not mean they love me back. I’m just a servant, Ava, I’ll never be important enough to be forgiven, God or not; I’ve lied to them for over ten years.”

She sighs, letting a tear of her own fall as she quietly responds:

“Emrys, you undervalue your worth, they don’t-”

“No. I don’t. You’re right, I have one life-time with them, with... with Arthur, and then I’ll lose them, and I’ll spend the rest of eternity grieving. I refuse to taint the already short time I have with them by having to watch them grow to hate me. I refuse.”

Merlin frowns as Ava rolls her eyes fondly, a victorious smirk on her face:

“If you would let me finish. They don’t hate you now, despite learning what they have just learnt, and you have yet to tell them of all you’ve done for them. Their love for you will only grow, Brother.”

Merlin tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. The gang take in a collective gasp at the realisation that she knows. And has likely known the whole time.

“What are you talking about?”

Ava’s smirk just grows, and she looks to the bushes the gang is hiding in, seeming to make direct eye-contact with a panicking Arthur as she speaks, he voice echoing unnaturally through the clearing:

“You can come out now.”

At her words, Merlin’s head whips around to stare at where she was looking. He opens his mind, allows his magic to stretch around him, and his skull is immediately full to burst with echoes of Mordred’s earlier, and ongoing, warnings, as well as the overwhelming presence of The (former) Darkness, The Once and Future King, and the others. He takes a stumbled step back, hand covering his mouth and tears spilling from his eyes as he becomes more and more convinced of... well... his time being tainted.

The gang stand and shuffle out of the bushes slowly, eyes trained on the floor and hands clasped in front of them tightly. It’s Merlin’s quiet, cracking “No...” that has them look up, paling at the absolute heartbreak on his face.

Lancelot and Gwaine give him weak, though genuine smiles, holding their hands out placatingly, but they halt their movements forward when Merlin just copies them pace for pace, moving away from them.

No one notices Ava rolling her eyes, not until she steps behind Merlin and puts a halting hand on his shoulder, stopping him from moving further away.

Merlin whips his head around, and another loud clap of thunder sounds out, much closer than the other one, quickly followed by a sudden downpour of frigid rain. The gang look to the sky in confusion, and Mordred desperately tries to reach Merlin through the mental link, offering comfort and reassurance; Merlin doesn’t seem to notice, the rain falling harder and harder as he almost fall to his knees, speaking in a desperate voice to his sister:

“Why... why would you... you know what this means. Why... why would you do this?! Ava?”

She rolls her eyes again, seeming to glow effervescently under the rivers of rainwater running down her face and over her clothes. She forces Merlin to turn and look at the gang, holding her hands on his shoulders to stop him from backing away (or collapsing in his grief) :

“Look at them, Em. Do they look angry to you? You should have some faith in the humans you claim to love so much. Look at them.”

Everyone in the gang gives Merlin varying levels of strained smiles; though Merlin, in his panic, is unable to tell that the strain is from concern and guilt, thinking that it was instead from hatred. He falls to his knees, his eyes shut tight enough to give him a headache and his hands clamped over his mouth in an effort to hold the sobs in.

Gwen and Morgana are the first to rush forwards, not paying the slightest bit of attention to Merlin’s... sister or the knights as they collapse to the floor in front of their friend, not sure whether to keep their distance or try to comfort the distraught man... God.

It’s his next choked sob that urges them to move once again, and the girls pull Merlin into a hug, tears of their own gathering at his agony. He freezes at first, then tries to pull away as lightening streaks across the sky, the violent bursts in sync with his choked breaths. When Gwen strokes a soft hand through his knotted hair, and Morgana pulls him further into her lap, muttering “We’re not leaving you, Merls, not ever, we love you.”, he relaxes slightly.

The thunder and lightening cease, but the rain still pours as Arthur stares over the pile of crying bodies to the woman, whose eyes seem to be growing brighter and brighter in the deluge. She stares right back at him, and The King jumps slightly when her voice echoes through her head, despite her still face:

“My brother has lost enough, please do not shatter his heart.”

Arthur nods once, before following Lancelot’s lead to the others, the rest of the knights not far behind them as Ava disappears. Whether she walked away without noticing or simply faded into the rain, no one knows, but no one really cares either. Soon enough, everyone is gathered around Merlin, stroking his back softly and whispering comforting promises over the sound of the rain. When Leon is the only one to notice Mordred’s eyes flash golden as he summons a shield above them, he simply shrugs his shoulders and refocuses his attention on muttering reassurances in Merlin’s head.

His breathing slows after a while, as does the rain, though everyone panics slightly when they see Morgana frown as she strokes the hair away from his face, revealing flushed cheeks and closed eyes. Mordred’s eyes flash golden once more as he presses a hand to his forehead, though no one lets the shock distract them for too long, latching on to his relieved tone:

“He’s just asleep, that would’ve taken a lot out of him. We should get him back to Gaius.”

The knights all stand, stretching and cracking joints to try and rid themselves of the cold stiffness that had settled in their soaked bones. Morgana stays on the floor, clutching at Merlin in her lap desperately, like he could slip away at any moment. When Arthur leans down to pick him up, she shoots him a glare, her own eyes glowing as the wind picks up once more, whipping through the clearing in an obvious warning. Arthur takes in a gasp, but shakes the surprise from his mind as he settles a soft hand on his sister’s shoulder:

“I... look, we’ll talk about this later, and I promise you’re going to be safe,-”

He glances up to an equally defensive looking Mordred:

“-all three of you, but Mordred’s right, we need to get him home and warmed up.”

Morgana hesitates for only a second, but the concern (and love) in her brother’s eyes sway her, and she nods, ever-so-carefully pulling her arms from around Merlin and helping Arthur get the younger (or... much much older) man situated in his arms before standing up.

The trek back to the castle is a fairly short one now they don’t have to worry about being quiet, and the rain has almost completely stopped by the time they make it to the citadel gates. It’s late, so the only people they come across are the occasional guard. But The King resolutely ignoring them as he carries his unconscious manservant through the corridors, his closest friends and advisors around him either openly crying or blinking away tears... well... it’s something that very much screams “DO NOT DISTURB US DO NOT SPEAK OF THIS IMMEDIATELY FORGET EVERYTHING YOU HAVE JUST SEEN”.

Elyan runs ahead to wake Gaius and warn him, so by the time everyone gets to the Physician’s chambers the fire is roaring, a patient pallet has been moved in front of the hearth, and Gaius himself is bustling around, preparing various concoctions and tinctures and blankets.

Merlin’s still shivering form is laid on the pallet, and Morgana shamelessly uses her magic to pull the heat closer and dry out his clothes. Mordred sits protectively close to the servant, one hand subconsciously close to his sword, the other resting on Merlin’s shoulder. Gwen settles between him an Morgana, and the knights figure that with her complete non-reaction to the magic... she probably already knew, she was smart like that. Gaius finally makes his way to Merlin’s side, tipping a gross smelling potion down his throat and running a hand through his hair, frowning worriedly down at his ward.

Not a single word had been said since they entered through the castle gates, and Arthur is the first to break the silence, sitting on Merlin’s other side, opposite Morgana, and settling an almost accusing expression on his sister:

“You knew, didn’t you?”

She looks up at him, somehow appearing powerful and intimidating despite being soaked through and shivering:

“I knew he was... powerful, I didn’t know he was a God.”

Gaius’ head whips around quickly, and Arthur is surprised at the questioning horror on his face:

“A God?? There must be some mistake, Merlin is powerful yes but he’s not-”

Mordred’s quiet voice interrupts him, though he doesn’t look away from the unconscious man as his fingers twitch over so slightly closer to the hilt of his sword:

“I knew. Though if I’d known he felt so... if I’d known how he felt, I would have spoken to him about it sooner, I apologise.”

Everyone looks at the group’s youngest member in shock, almost speechless, but Gwaine stutters slightly before clearing his throat and trying again:

“So... that was real, Merlin is a fucking God.”

Mordred nods absent-mindedly, eyes flashing golden as he presses his hand to Merlin’s forehead once again, frowning. Arthur’s brow creases in concern and he leans closer to Merlin:

“What is it? Is he ok??”

Before Mordred can reply, Leon speaks up, his voice tired, but strong:

“If he’s some... powerful God, then why is he hurt in the first place? Shouldn’t he be able to resist any sort of injury or sickness??”

Mordred shakes his head, finally looking away from Merlin to gaze at the group surrounding him. He looks doubtful at first, but when he sees the genuine concern on everyone’s faces, especially from Gaius and Arthur, he sighs and speaks softly:

“It’s difficult to describe. Merlin could access the full range of his power and do anything, if he wanted, but it’s draining and complicated when stuck in a human body. He himself is a God, yes, but this form is still vulnerable and mortal; he can get injured, and sick, he can die, or at least the body can. Merlin tends to repair this body when that happens, instead of moving on. He... likes it here.”

Everyone nods, understanding at least a little, though Gaius and Lancelot look the most shell-shocked. The room goes silent once again, and Percival, sat on the floor against the end of Merlin’s pallet with Elyan and Gwaine, is the first to speak, his voice shaking and sorrowful:

“He really thinks so low of himself. He’s a God... and he was terrified of the thought of us hating him, as if such a thing were even possible.”

Gwaine curses under his breath and Leon restarts his slow pacing around the room before he stops suddenly, turning to face the others with a look of anger on his face:

“Well of course he thinks it’s bloody possible. He’s right, we treat him like a fucking servant even though he’s one of our dearest friends, and half of us talk about the evils of sorcery on a near constant basis. He’s the God of Magic, of course he’d think we would hate him.”

Everyone is taken aback at Leon’s rage, though no one can deny that what he’s said is true. Leon is... quietly protective of everyone in the group, and it’s a time like this that reminds all of them that he had known Merlin just as long as Arthur had, and definitely held a certain brotherly affection for the younger (uh... yeah, whatever) man.

The older knight sags slightly, seemingly realising how exhausted he is, and pulls a chair up next to Arthur before collapsing in it, head in his hands. Arthur pats him on the back a few times before looking back to Merlin’s now thankfully not-shivering form, taking in a deep breath and nodding his head decisively:

“Well, we’ll just have to show him that it isn’t possible. I... we need to show him that he’s... important to us. Loved.”

Morgana just raises her eyebrow at The King, but doesn’t say anything as Gaius mutters a tearful “My poor boy.” under his breath. Elyan stands from his place on the floor, moving to perch on a bench behind his sister and setting a comforting hand on her shoulder as he softly speaks:

“He needs to know that we want him to stay here, with us.”

Percival shakes his head slightly, looking conflicted:

“Wouldn’t that be... cruel? That woman... Ava, was right. We’ll all grow old and die and he’s a God, he’ll live forever and he’ll grieve. Isn’t asking him to stay selfish?”

No one has an answer, and the room grows silent, everyone stewing in their own tense thoughts, trying to weigh the pros and cons, trying to measure exactly how selfish they were willing to be when it came to Merlin.

The sun rising over the horizon and peaking through the uncovered windows is what wakes everyone (bar Merlin) from their fitful sleeps. All of them had been plagued with odd dreams and nightmares through the night, so despite their exhaustion, they were grateful to be awake.

No one said anything though, waking one by one and pacing briefly around the room in an attempt to cure themselves of the aches gained from falling asleep in such awkward positions.

It’s still incredibly early in the morning, so thankfully none of them are needed for at least two more candle marks, but it’s Lancelot who breaks the silence first, clearing his throat and looking down at his best friend:

“It wouldn’t be selfish.”

Arthur looks up to him, noting the bags under everyone’s eyes and the tear tracks no one had bothered to wipe away:

“What are you talking about?”

The knight runs a hand through his hair, sniffling slightly and taking a deep breath before he stares around the room, making sure everyone was awake and paying attention as he spoke:

“For us to tell him we want him to stay, it wouldn’t be selfish. You heard him, he loves it here, he’s desperate to stay, he loves us. He still has at least thirty years worth of memories to make with us, and yeah, maybe that’s not a lot in the grand scheme of the immortal life of a God, but it’s more than the ten he’s already got. We can’t take that away from him. He... he wants to be here. Telling him to leave just to alleviate our own guilt... that would be selfish.”

Everyone looks a little doubtful, bar Mordred, and it’s him that Arthur turns to:

“Mordred? You knew... what he is, which we are still definitely going to have a conversation about by the way, what do you think?”

Mordred sighs, biting his lip for a moment before finally ripping his gaze from Merlin’s still unconscious, but now healthier looking body:

“He is more than any of us will ever be able to comprehend. You still see him as just Merlin, he is, but he’s also much more; he is Emrys, the saviour, the God, the Guiding Light. He is magic itself, woven into the fabric of the universe. He inhabits every space, and no space at the same time, he exists in every grain of sand, every drop of ocean, every speck of sky. To... to assume that he is not capable of deciding what he wants is an act of unforgivable hubris. If he stays, who are you to demand he leave and name yourselves selfish, when he has not deemed it so?”

Arthur pales slightly at Mordred’s words, as does everyone else. Gwaine seems to be taking it in his stride, and Lancelot seems less surprised than Arthur thinks he should (definitely something to question, but not right now), but before anyone can say anything, Merlin twitches, a low groan escaping his throat as his brows crease.

Everyone moves quickly, gathering around his bedside in a huddle. Morgana, Mordred, and Gwen are grateful to still be sat in their seats, and if they weren’t so busy worriedly leaning over Merlin they would be rolling their eyes at the way the others were pushing and shoving to be at the front. Gaius elbows his way to be stood by Merlin’s head, a cold compress in one hand and a grey looking potion in the other.

Morgana strokes a hand through Merlin’s hair and the frown on his face eases; he blinks his eyes open, swallowing before grimacing at the taste in his mouth and groaning again. Gwen leans over his head, smiling as she settles a hand on his warm cheek:

“Morning sleepyhead. How are you feeling?”

Merlin just groans again, rubbing his shaking hands harshly into his eyes as he says, his voice dry and painful-sounding:

“Ugh. Like Arthur’s aim got miraculously better.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and flushes slightly, but before he can defend himself Merlin bolts upright, taking in a deep, ragged breath, eyes wide. Mordred focuses a concentrated expression on the side of Merlin’s head, but Arthur ignores it as he reaches forward, settling a hand on the dark-haired man’s shoulder and muttering his name:

“Merlin?”

Merlin’s breathing only gets deeper as he whips his head around to stare at Arthur. The blonde tries to smile comfortingly at him, but Merlin barely seems to notice as he scrambles back on the bed, only stopping when he comes into contact with Leon behind him.

Mordred’s face morphs into a concerned frown at Merlin’s terror, and now his tears, so instead of waiting for the man to calm down enough to let them explain, he rushes forward, grabbing the back of Merlin’s head and forcing their foreheads together before he can pull away. He shuts his eyes tightly, muttering some sort of incantation under his breath. Merlin gasps loudly and Mordred groans, holding their heads together for a few moments before collapsing back into his seat, clamping his hands over his eyes as if trying to press a headache away. Merlin slumps back against the warm body behind him, and Leon just about manages to catch him in strong arms before he falls to the floor.

This had all happened in the space of a few moments, and when the two of them still, the others unfreeze. Arthur turns on Mordred:

“What did you do?? What was that?!”

Mordred groans again, looking up blearily, first at Merlin, who seems to be in a similar state to him, leant against Leon, and then to Arthur:

“He wasn’t calming down, so I shared my memories. From when we met at the edge of the forest yesterday, to just before he woke up. It’ll take him a little longer than me to sort through them.”

Arthur nods and Morgana looks impressed, and everyone looks to Merlin again, waiting for him to pull the hands from his eyes and talk to them, look at them, anything.

He finally seems to relax his muscles and Leon rubs his hands up and down his arms softly; despite the fact that he’d been warmed by the fire, the knight was still oddly worried about Merlin being too cold. He lets out a deep breath, lowering his shaking hands as he slowly raises his teary gaze, staring at Arthur:

“You... you want me to stay?”

Arthur ignores the tears dripping down his cheeks as nods desperately, forcing a soft smile on his face as he sniffles:

“Yes. Please. We don’t want you to go, we don’t hate you.”

Merlin launches himself at Arthur and the only thing stopping The King from falling back from Merlin’s surprising weight is Percival’s hand on his back. Arthur wraps his arms tightly around Merlin’s middles, turning his head to press a kiss to the other man’s temple as he tries to get his tears under control; he completely ignores the others in favour of muttering into Merlin’s hair:

“It’s alright, Merlin. You stay here, with us, as long as you want. We... I, love you. Stay, please.”

Merlin just sobs harder, gripping the back of Arthur’s tunic as he kneels on the bed, his response stuttering and barely understandable:

“But- but I’m-”

Arthur just hushes him, stroking a hand through his hair and giving everyone else in the room pointed looks. They all crowd around Merlin again, placing comforting hands on his back and shoulders and arms and hands. Mordred whispers his adoration in Merlin’s head, and Morgana presses a kiss to the nape of his neck, all in the hopes of convincing him that the memories he had were true.

His breathing finally calms, and Arthur shuffles to the side so he can sit down next to him, not daring to remove the arms from around his neck or push him away. Merlin pulls away himself when Arthur settles, but doesn’t move far, and there’s no space between them as he hastily wipes the tears from his face, staring at him lap, cheeks flushed. Arthur takes his hand slowly in his, but Merlin still doesn’t look up, so Morgana kneels in front of him, placing her hand on his knee softly and saying with a teasing smirk on her face:

“You know, if I’d known that my teacher was The God of Magic, I might’ve complained less at the studying you make me do.”

Merlin finally looks up at her, a weak smile on his face, and Morgana winks at him. It’s Gwaine who tries next, settling on Merlin’s other side and sighing loudly:

“Forget the God thing do you know how many pranks we could’ve pulled if you’d told me you had magic?? Can’t believe you’d take that opportunity from me, all of you.”

He gives Mordred and Morgana jokingly offended glares and they roll their eyes, though their attention is quickly drawn back to Merlin, whose hands are clenching tightly in his lap. The room goes dark all of a sudden, and a glance to the window would tell them that the clear morning was suddenly overcast, thunder rumbling in the distance as rain slammed against the glass. Arthur squeezes Merlin’s hand and quickly, though gently, shoves Morgana out of the way, kneeling in front of Merlin and lifting his chin with his free hand:

“It’s fine, Merlin. We’ve all got a ton of questions but everything’s going to be alright, I swear. In fact, I’m glad we found out, it was cruel of us to make you live in a kingdom where you aren’t accepted, but that changes now, I promise.”

Merlin stands suddenly and walks between them, taking a deep breath before turning suddenly a scowl on his face:

“It wasn’t her choice to make, it was mine, and she took it from me.-”

With every harsh the thunder grew closer and the glass in the window frame shook more violently:

“-I was going to tell you after you changed your mind about magic because it had to come from the heart. You can’t change the Kingdom just for my sake! I wanted to do it properly and she took that from me because she was bored!”

Everyone rushes to say something in an effort to calm him down, both for the safety of the windows and his happiness, but Arthur’s blunt-

“Why?”

-stops them in their tracks. Merlin looks to him sharply, though Arthur is grateful for the thunder quietening down as he replies:

“What do you mean why? Why what?”

Arthur huffs out a gentle laugh, shaking his head in disbelief:

“Why can’t I change the Kingdom for you? You’re important, you’ve touched so many lives in so many wonderous ways; that in itself tells me that magic isn’t evil, so why can’t I change the Kingdom for you?”

The thunder stops and the rain slows to a gentle patter as Merlin tilts his head, his scowl of anger morphing into a sad, confused frown as he responds in a small voice:

“But... I’m just a servant. You’re not doing it out of fear, so I’m still just... nobody important.”

Arthur just laughs again, walking towards Merlin and settling soft hands on his shoulders, grateful to feel the others close to his back:

“You have never once been just a servant, Merlin. Something tells me you’ve been saving my life, and this Kingdom, since the day we met, so even if it had no effect on anyone else whatsoever, I would still change the law. Because you are a good man, and you are important, and you deserve it. Compared to you, it is us, who are just human.-”

Merlin frowns again and Arthur rolls his eyes to stop him arguing:

“-Just... give me another hug, and accept it. You idiot.”

He can feel someone (probably Morgana) thump him on the back, but he doesn’t turn around, eagerly returning Merlin’s hug when the brunette wraps his arms around Arthur’s middle tightly. The King presses closer, uncaring of what his audience thinks of him for the first time in his life (probably because he has a feeling that they’ve known of his... affections, longer than even he has) and mutters his question into Merlin’s ear:

“We... I love you, Merlin, more than anything. Will you stay with me?”

The King is vaguely aware of his First Knight whispering “I told you so, idiot.” behind him, but all he cares about is the sensation of the God, more ancient and powerful than anything he could ever comprehend, nodding into is neck.

THE END!!

I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope y’all like it!!

Link to the Dark!Merlin version (I warn you, it’s hella angsty) is at the top!! :)

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jungshookz · 4 years ago

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teeny tidbits: emma comes home past curfew & y/n's not happy about it

➺ genre; kindergartenteacher!taehyungiverse!! honk honk humour!! sixteen year old emma reminds y/n of herself and she doesn't know if that's a bad thing or a good thing

➺ wordcount; 1.5k

➺ p.s. this takes place far faR off into the future!! i just thought it'd be nice to see emma as a spunky teenager :'))

(unfortunately i wasn’t able to track down the original maker of this gif but this is where i sourced it from! all credits go to the original creator of course :-))

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

the sound of the front door rattling at four in the morning would usually be something that would terrify pretty much anybody, but for you-

"oh, come on!"

it's really just another day in the life.

"em's home," taehyung reaches over slowly to pat your stomach and wake you up (as if you haven't been up waiting for the past four hours), his voice laced with sleep as he rolls to the side, "i'll go open the-"

"nope." you reach over to turn the lamp on before flicking the covers off and stepping out of bed, adjusting the strap of your tank top before pointing a finger at taehyung, "you're not opening anything."

"okay, well-" taehyung pauses before propping himself up a little to frown at you, "wait, what?"

"you know, i cannot believe her-" you snap, pulling your hair up into a bun as you hurry over to the window, "it's like she likes to be grounded! i told her she could go out with her friends as long as she came back before curfew, but no-"

"well, it's not that late, is it?" taehyung tosses the pillow he's hugging to his chest aside before turning to look at the clock sitting on his bedside table, "it's only- oh. it's 4:18."

you unlock the latch on the window before digging your fingers underneath it and pulling it up with a snap, watching as emma rushes out from the front porch at the sudden noise

"why, good morning, miss kim!" you call out, leaning down against the edge of the open window with a bright smile, "now i can rest well knowing you weren't murdered tonight."

"the door's broken or something!" emma strategically ignores your snarky comment, placing a hand on her hip before sticking her hand up in the air to flash you her keys with a jingle, "my keys aren't working!"

"oh, your keys are fine, sweetheart." you let out a sigh before scrunching your nose, "i triple-locked the doors. better to be safe than to be sorry, right?"

"okay, well-" emma pauses, scratching the back of her neck before gesturing towards the door, "are you gonna open the door for me or what? i really have to pee-"

"you could always take a squat and pee in the bushes." you point out, emma's jaw dropping slightly before she lets out a scoff

"are you serious? i'm not taking a piss in the bushes-"

"well, i guess you should've thought of that before coming home four hours past curfew!" your tone changes as soon as you get to the point and even from here you're able to make out the slight twitch of panic that runs through emma's body

"don't be ridiculous, i'm not four hours past curfew-" emma grumbles, turning to pull her phone out of her purse and glancing at it before pausing for a second and then looking back up at you, "i'm... four hours and twenty minutes past curfew. so take that!"

"you know, i was just being nice and i rounded down, but if you wanna say you were four hours and twenty minutes late, we can definitely say you were four hours and twenty minutes late-"

"mom!" emma whines, stomping her foot down on the ground as she shoves her phone back into her (your!!) purse hastily, "you can't just- are you seriously not going to let me into the house?! you're gonna make me sleep out on the front porch?! i can't- what if the coyotes get me?! if the coyotes get me, you're gonna regret this decision so bad-"

"the only thing that's going to attack you in this neighbourhood are the little girl scouts who won't leave you alone until you buy, like, ten boxes of cookies from them-"

"i'm sixteen, mother!" emma cuts you off with another whine and you can't help but roll your eyes at the sight of your daughter throwing a tantrum on the front lawn, "i'm grown! i should be allowed to go out with my friends and come home whenever i want!"

you thought you were 'grown' at sixteen too

(spoiler alert: that was not the case at all.)

obviously you love your daughter more than anything in the world but you hate that she inherited one of the traits that you're not fond too of: your stubbornness

and look, of course you know that she's getting older and that she should be allowed to go and have (safe) fun with her friends but this isn't the first time she's broken the rules and knowing her, it certainly won't be the last time

and it doesn't help that taehyung always gets to play good cop and you have to be the bad one!!!

like last time when the two of you caught emma climbing into the house through one of the windows and she ended up getting stuck - instead of reprimanding her for coming home late again, taehyung just laughed and immediately went over to help her out

sure, the sight of your daughter flailing around trapped in a small window was hilarious, but someone had to be the serious one in the situation (1) she lied to you about just having a chill night with her friends because you're pretty sure a chill night doesn't involve body glitter and the faint smell of vodka on her breath! 2) she climbed up the side of the house like a maniac and could've gotten seriously injured????) and of course the responsibility to do that fell onto your lap

taehyung's also just not very good at disciplining which is why you usually gently push him aside and take the lead and it looks like it's time for you to turn on your i'm not mad, i'm just very disappointed in you act once again

"you're going to wake your brother up if you keep screaming like that, and you know how fussy he gets when he doesn't get a good night's sleep-"

"he's the world's sleepiest baby, i could blow up fireworks in his room and he'd be fine- dad!" emma's eyes immediately light up when a sleepy taehyung suddenly pops up next to you and you raise a brow when he nudges you aside gently, "oh my god, thank god- mom's literally being insane right now, you have to let me in-"

"what time did you say you'd be home?" taehyung interrupts, "because i think we agreed on midnight when i dropped you off at hope's apartment..."

"i-" emma presses her lips together before letting out a little scoff and rolling her eyes, "okay, yes, we- i said i would be home by midnight, yes." she sighs before suddenly perking up again, "it's not my fault, though! no one goes home before midnight, it's so lame- hope's dad lets her stay out as long as she texts-"

"ah, texts! let's talk about that! didn't you say you'd text us to let us know where you were if you weren't home by midnight?" taehyung points out, crossing his arms over his chest before reaching up to stroke at his chin to feign deep thought, "because my phone hasn't gone off all night... has yours, darling?" he hums, turning to glance at you

"nope!" you chime in with a helpless little shrug and you nearly crack a smile when you see emma reach up to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration, "my phone has been dead silent. no texts. not even an emoji!"

"you hear that, emma? not even an emoji." taehyung tsks, shaking his head in disappointment, "you know what this means, don't you?"

"i'm grounded for two weeks, i know-"

"two weeks?? oh, you're grounded for a month." taehyung pauses for a second before looking down at her again, "and! and you have to change all of your brother's diapers the whole time you're grounded. also, i just want to let you know that he had sweet potatoes for dinner and you know how gassy he gets after a helping of sweet potatoes-"

"a month?!" emma roars and your eye twitches at how high her voice goes, "you can't ground me for a month, lucas is throwing this huge party next weekend and i have to be there! are you kidding m-"

taehyung slides the window back down before emma gets to say anything else and he turns to face you with a grin before opening his arms slightly, "well?? what did you think??"

"i think... that was probably one of the sexiest things you've ever done for me." you laugh lightly, happily giving him a quick kiss when he leans in for one

"duly noted." taehyung beams before letting out a quick sigh and then turning on his heels to head to the door, "okay, i'm going to go let our daughter into the house now because i don't think my hydrangeas are going to survive being peed on-"

🎙️give emma some diaper changing tips (talk to my characters/send in a message!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles! mini series!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this one!)

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five-rivers · 3 years ago

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Long Night in the Valley Chapter 15

It's been a bit, hasn't it?

Toshinori pushed himself up off the ground with trembling arms. Although, by the position of the sun, it hadn’t been for long, he’d blacked out when—

“Oh, no,” said Toshinori. His head throbbed at the sound, making the edges of his vision go dark and fuzzy.

When All for One had broken through into the shared mindscape.

“Oh, no,” he repeated.

Where was Izuku? He had to find—Oh, thank goodness, Izuku was right there. He let out a sigh of relief.

His relief was short-lived. Izuku, to put it lightly, did not look well. His eyes were open, but only glazed slivers. His breath was coming shallow and fast, not quite to the point of hyperventilating, but it was a close thing. His skin was pale, except for deep, bruise-like circles under his eyes. He was sweating more than Toshinori had ever seen him sweat (which was really saying something; Izuku broke out into nervous sweats with some frequency). Perhaps most concerningly, he was shaking like a leaf.

Izuku was, Toshinori realized, still maintaining the effect of Two’s quirk.

He tried to reach inside himself, contact his predecessors, but swiftly pulled his mental fingers back, as if they had been burned. Bad idea.

“Izuku,” he said, “can you hear me?”

Izuku made a small, pained noise that tore at Toshinori’s heart.

“I’m going to pick you up, okay?” he said. Izuku didn’t answer, but then Toshinori didn’t expect him to.

The simple act forced Toshinori to call on the embers of One for All. Not enough to make his muscles swell, but enough to give him the strength of an ordinary, healthy man. His muscles and his remaining intact lung screamed in protest, not to mention his scars. He ignored them.

He stumbled forward, priorities shuffling themselves. They’d been trying to escape, but if Izuku was this ill… he needed a doctor. An exorcist might be a good idea, too, what with All for One running around in their heads.

But to get a doctor, they’d have to put themselves in commission hands, and Toshinori could feel the echoes of Two and Three telling him exactly how stupid that would be.

The commission had sent Hawks after Izuku. Toshinori had no doubt they’d throw him in Tartarus, and the treatment of criminals in Tartarus was one of the few things Toshinori had publicly disagreed with the HPSC on in his hero persona. Not that it had gone anywhere. He simply hadn’t had the time to really push it and the commission had somehow managed to paint him as somehow too good, too forgiving, to be trusted when it came to the disposition of terrible villains.

“’ll be’kay,” mumbled Izuku, the sentiment clearer over their mental link. “N’ospital.”

“Okay,” said Toshinori, slightly breathless. “Let’s—Let’s keep going, then. Find a good place to camp out, far away from Todoroki Touya, here. Yep.” He was aware he was rambling, and needlessly at that, but he couldn’t help it.

One foot in front of the other.

Was that a car running?

Toshinori, keen on getting help and care for Izuku, even if it meant hijacking a car, changed directions slightly. Of course, it would be ideal if there were friendly bystanders who didn’t believe the hero commissions lies and had a medical license and a healing quirk, but Toshinori would be more than happy with—

He stopped. Laughed. Laughed some more, a little hysterically. There, abandoned in a ditch like a beached sailing ship, was Vlad King’s much abused car.

Sure, it would have been reported stolen by now, and the police and heroes would be looking for it, but that was a problem for future-Toshinori. Present-Toshinori, on the other hand, was simply grateful for the windfall, and wary – the presence of the car could indicate the proximity of the League of Villains.

He gently put Izuku down in the passenger seat, turned the car off and made sure it was in the appropriate gear, then walked around to the back of the car and lifted it out of the ditch.

If his muscles had been complaining before—

He staggered back to the driver’s seat, leaning heavily on the side of the car the whole time. Blood dripped from his mouth. “This is nothing, my boy, nothing,” he said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone, as he felt Izuku’s concern press heavily against him. “Used to have worse every day of the week.”

Toshinori got the sense that Izuku was not, in fact, reassured. Nevertheless, he grinned, pouring every drop of his fabled ‘everything will be alright’ smile into the expression. Even if Izuku couldn’t see it, Toshinori needed some of the comfort that came with donning a familiar mask

“Let’s see if we can get to the Wild Wild Pussycats today, after all.”

“Eri-chan,” began Abe, tapping together her papers. She’d drawn the short stick. Ito was interviewing one of the older students, and Abe got the feral child.

“No,” said Eri.

“I didn’t even ask you a question yet.”

“Only people I like get to call me -chan. That’s the rule. Prinzible Nezu said so.”

“Principal,” corrected Nezu, cheerfully, like the unhelpful rodent rat bastard he was. If only she could have gotten him kicked out… but, no, he and Present Mic were both sitting in on the interview.

“PrincipalNezu told me, and he’s in charge.”

“You tell ‘em, Eri-chan!” said Present Mic, just a little more loudly than was comfortable.

Eri nodded to let Present Mic know the noise-cancelling earplugs were working.

“In this situation,” said Abe, sternly, “I am in charge.”

The girl tilted her head, and suddenly her expression went from ‘pouting child’ to ‘superior being contemplating an uppity insect.’

“Eri-san,” began Abe.

“No,” said Eri.

Abe looked up incredulously. What was wrong with -san?

She decided to ignore it. “You spoke with—”

Eri began to scream like a teakettle whistling.

“Can’t you control her?” Abe demanded, turning to Nezu, who chittered.

“This is very good progress!” he said, barely loud enough to hear over the ongoing shriek. “Before now, Eri-chan was too hesitant to act out or misbehave in any way, fearing the punishment that her former and completely unqualified caretakers would inflict upon her.”

Abe didn’t know which was more longwinded, the still-screaming child or the rodent principal. Her body was so tiny, how was she still screaming?

Eri clicked off the Present Mic-themed combo audio recorder and player in her pocket at the same time she shut her mouth. Principal Nezu was right! This was fun! At least, it would be if Deku was here.

“I get to pick what you call me,” said Eri, patiently. Since this person wasn’t smart enough to see that Deku was only the best hero ever and not a bad guy, she’d have to explain slowly.

The person evidently wasn’t even smart enough to breathe, as she was slowly turning purple.

“What,” she said, in stilted tones, “would you like me to call you.”

Eri let the smile Aizawa had taught her spread across her face. “Eri-sama.”

“Is that a joke?”

“It’s very important to respect the boundaries children establish, Abe-san,” said Nezu.

Katsuki blinked. It was about time he woke up. Stupid dream time dilation or whatever. Stupid boring soy sauce face and his stupid boring mindscape dreamscape whatever hellscape. There was a limit to what you could do in a square mile that mostly consisted of a tape-covered jungle gym and a boring apartment building. Katsuki had found it, and, after spending a good period of time being angry about it, had decided to go to sleep.

Dream time dilation or whatever the commission proctor had been going on about after the first billionty-and-one stupid hours, it didn’t matter, Katsuki hated it, it was just taking too damn long. If he didn’t have to do this to keep his provisional license, he’d tell the commission to shove this stupid pointless training up it’s—

About a minute after he should have twigged to something wrong, Katsuki realized the ceiling was too familiar.

He sat up. Why the hell was he in UA’s infirmary?

And not just him, about half the class was here with him.

He scowled. So, something had gone wrong with the test after all, and it looked like Deku wasn’t involved. Stupid nerd would hold it over him.

“Hey!” shouted Katsuki, spotting Recovery Girl. “What the f—”

“Language!” scolded Recovery Girl, shrilly, practically teleporting across the room to jab Katsuki with her cane. “You’re in a school, young man.”

“I know that!” protested Katsuki. “But why the f—” he faltered under the force Recovery Girl’s gaze even as she started to run through the checklist she usually did for people who’d been knocked out like wimps. “Fudge. Am I here.”

“I think the more pertinent question is, how are you awake? There should be at least one more hour, if not two, left to that quirk.”

“I went to sleep,” said Katsuki, attempting to fend her off.

“Well, you wouldn’t be waking up if—”

“No. In the shhhtupid dreamscape thing. I went to sleep.”

Recovery Girl paused for a moment, then sighed. “I don’t suppose you were the one whose mind they were exploring?”

“No. That was soy sauce face. Why are we back here? And where’s the nerd?”

Recovery Girl seemed to droop at his question, and a heaviness filled the air. “That’s a long story.”

“Did we get attacked by Dusty McGee again?”

“No.”

“So, what did happen?” snapped Katsuki. “The nerd break out a new quirk in the middle of the training or something?”

Recovery Girl’s eye twitched, and she sat down on a nearby stool, taking a deep breath.

“The hero commission suspected Midoriya of working with the League of Villains and attempted to use the training to interrogate him. Under the influence of at least one mental quirk, Midoriya fled. At about the same time, All Might left and met up with him, after which the commission accused Midoriya of kidnapping All Might. They haven’t given him an S-Rank villain classification, but I suspect that’s just because the paperwork hasn’t gone through yet.”

All right. Honestly, with his creepy stalker notebooks and obsessive All Might shrine room, Deku probably seemed like a prime kidnapping suspect to an outsider, but considering that Katsuki had witnessed Deku and All Might’s sickeningly sweet interpersonal interactions, somehow managing to be a goddamn third wheel to some sort of surrogate parent-child found family drama nonsense…

“Has anyone told ‘em it’s more likely the other way around? And that if it was, it’d probably be for the nerd’s own good, too?”

Recovery Girl nodded tiredly.

“They hiding out here?”

“Midoriya is a wanted criminal.”

“So what?”

“We’re a school.”

“You’ve lost me.”

Recovery Girl sighed. “No, Midoriya is not here.”

“Well, that’s stupid. What are we doing about it?”

“Right now? You are doing nothing. Commission investigators are in the building, and it would be better if they thought you were still unconscious.”

Katsuki grumbled. “Should go and try to bring him back.”

“What, so he can be arrested?”

“No!” said Katsuki, defensively. “But he’s probably running around out there making everything worse!”

“Bakugo,” said Recovery Girl, patting his leg, “from what I’ve heard, the only thing that could possibly make this worse is being found.”

“Can you describe to me the circumstances under which you lost your quirk?” asked Ito, the other commission investigator.

“Sure!” said Mirio, hoping the man couldn’t detect his discomfort at the subject. Even if he’d made that split second choice to shield Eri with his body with full knowledge of the consequences, to jump in front of Nemoto’s bullet, it was still a traumatic experience. It still hurt, even if he didn’t regret it.

He took a deep breath. “Well, it was during the Shie Hassaikai raid. I had gone ahead to confront Chisaki Kai and rescue Eri. There were a few other yakuza with him, members of the Eight Bullets. Nemoto Shin, Sakaki Deidoro, and, ah, Chrono, I think. I can’t remember his proper name.”

“That’s fine. Please continue.”

“I engaged with Sakaki and Nemoto while Chisaki and Chrono went ahead. I was affected by their quirks, but managed to get by… It was a hard battle!” he interjected, suddenly. He belatedly realized he wanted to draw out this line of questioning, and dove into a supremely detailed description of his fight with Sakaki and Nemoto. It was funny, too, and he saw Ito getting sucked in.

Sir would have been proud.

“And then, I chased after Chrono and Chisaki!” said Mirio, gesticulating wildly to illustrate his movements. He continued narrating the battle, the wild swings of fate, Eri’s hope and fear, the strikes and counterstrikes! Just like when he’d first debriefed after the raid.

Weirdly enough, going through it like this also made him feel better. Less like he was reliving a terrible, painful moment in his life, and more like he was telling a very dramatic story.

“—aaaaaaand,” he wrapped up, “Chisaki tossed the gun with the erasure bullets to Nemoto – I hadn’t realized he was still conscious. I’d been too worried about getting to Eri.” He shrugged. “I got shot.”

“Despite your quirk?”

“I didn’t want Eri to be hit.”

“Even though the loss of her quirk might have been a blessing for her? Considering the difficulty she has using it and the pain it gives her.”

Mirio felt his smile settle into something blander and more dangerous than his usual beaming grins. “Are you suggesting that I should have let a six-year-old be shot?”

“Not at all,” said Ito, making a mark. “Now, where was Midoriya at this time?”

“He hadn’t caught up to us, yet,” said Mirio. “He was with Sir.”

“Who?”

“Sir Nighteye,” clarified Mirio. “Before that, they were with Rock Lock and some of the others, I believe.”

“But you don’t know for sure.”

“I wasn’t there, so… no, not really. But the exact situation should be on file, from our debrief, and Rock Lock can confirm or clarify.”

“Only the parts he saw,” said Ito. “Did you try to use your quirk after that? Or did you simply assume it was gone?”

“Of course, I tried to use it!” said Mirio, feeling somewhat offended. “I’d trained it to be reflexive. Right after, I kept thinking my quirk would protect me, and moving too slow to dodge attacks. I got really beaten up.”

“And was this before or after Midoriya Izuku arrived?”

“Before, mostly,” said Mirio. “It isn’t like the fight stopped the minute he showed up.”

“And you are certain your quirk stopped working before Midoriya arrived.”

“I’m sure.”

“How did you know you were hit by a permanent quirk-erasing bullet?” asked Ito.

“Well, when my quirk didn’t come back we were pretty sure,” said Mirio.

“But you didn’t know beforehand, for certain, that the bullets were permanent.”

Crap. Mirio had screwed up somewhere in there. He could feel it.

“I think Nemoto and Chisaki were shouting at each other about it during the fight,” said Mirio. “They were pretty proud of it.”

“But you did not know, for sure, that your quirk loss was permanent,” insisted Ito. “There was no way for you to know that their claims about the bullets were true.”

“I mean… not really,” said Mirio. “But, again, here I am without a quirk.”

“Yes… but that isn’t the only way a person can lose a quirk, is it?”

“The Scourge of Kamino was already in Tartarus when the Shie Hassaikai raid took place,” said Mirio. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

“Did Midoriya Izuku come into contact with you before the end of the day?”

“We talked, yeah,” said Mirio.

“Physical contact.”

“Actually… no,” said Mirio. “After the fight, we were both whisked off to the hospital, separately. Midoriya came to visit me after we both got patched up, he felt guilty about not getting to me and Eri sooner, and--” Oh, dear, he’d have to think back on that conversation a bit more. Later. He swallowed. “--and… Sir’s death…” He looked down at his hands. “Sir… in retrospect, he didn’t like Midoriya very much, but his death hit Midoriya hard. First death in the line of duty. It… it was the first time I’d seen a hero die, too.”

“You’re quite certain he didn’t touch you? At all?” asked Ito, undeterred by Mirio’s not-at-all-feigned grief.

“Pretty sure, yeah,” said Mirio, now annoyed by the investigator’s callousness.

“I see.”

Ochako rubbed her eyes, but the darkness stayed. “What,” she said out loud, her voice somehow doing the opposite of echoing, “what happened?”

“I don’t know,” said Todoroki. He had positioned himself so as to guard her back.

“There was a bang,” said Iida, “and then…” He trailed off, clearly finding just as much difficulty in describing the event as Ochako did thinking about it.

“They were talking about All for One getting in,” said Ochako. “You don’t think…?”

“Maybe we timed out the quirk and we’re about to wake up,” said Iida, optimistically.

“Where’s Aizawa-sensei?” asked Todoroki.

“I don’t know,” said Ochako. “He was standing with us… I mean, I couldn’t see you guys at first, either.”

“I’m here,” said Aizawa.

Ochako turned to see their teacher methodically scanning their black surroundings, his eyes red. “Do you know what happened?” she asked. “Do you think this is just, I don’t know, a new transition? A memory?”

“I don’t know,” said Aizawa. He blinked, eyes returning to their normal colors.

��It isn’t,” said an unfamiliar voice. The figure of a young man with uncut white hair slowly faded out of the darkness. “Hello.” He raised a hand. “I’m One. Or, I guess, you can call me Kazuki. Sorry about the landscape. Most of our mental resources were just rerouted.”

“Does this have something to do with that vault thing Izuku mentioned?” asked Ochako.

“Yes, sadly,” said One. “My brother’s broken out. Which means you really shouldn’t be here. All our minds are about to become battlefields. I have some techniques that might help you get out, but--”

“Six told me there was something taken from Midoriya that we could get back, if the vault was open. Is that still a thing?”

One raised a fist to his lips, and pressed down. “You understand, don’t you, that to search for this is to go into my brother’s mind?”

“If it’s to help Midoriya,” said Todoroki, stepping forward, “we’ll do anything.”

“That is very admirable of you,” said One. “I do mean that, I really do, and I’ve seen your heroics and spirit through Izuku’s eyes. But I’m not sending children to fight my brother. Eraserhead, you’d be going alone.”

“I can work with that,” said Aizawa.

“But we won’t be in any real danger!” protested Ochako. “The worst that could happen to us is that we’ll run out of time and wake up. Right?”

“Don’t underestimate my brother. Judging from the fight at Kamino, he lost a lot of quirk control and strength after his first fight with Eight, or else he’d never have been captured. But that’s only if we take it at face value. I don’t doubt that he has five or six plans in place to escape Tartarus and steal every interesting quirk in there, thereby increasing his power exponentially, or even healing himself.”

Ochako blinked. How would anyone heal from… Wait. “Overhaul.”

One’s smile was a bitter thing. “I certainly wouldn’t have put the two of them in the same prison.”

The villain at Kamino, already strong enough to go toe to toe with All Might, with Overhaul's power? Ochako shuddered.

"What did he take from Midoriya?" asked Aizawa. "I'm going to need to know before I do this."

"You're sure you want to do this, then?"

"I haven't decided."

One sighed and pushed his hair back, out of his face. Ochako was struck, momentarily, by how the color of his eyes perfectly matched Izuku's.

"My brother took what he always takes," said One. "His quirk."

"But!" protested Ochako. "He has a quirk! He has..." she trailed off as another revelation hit her.

"He…" said Iida, next to her, "has several quirks."

"He has your quirk," said Todoroki with one-hundred-percent unwavering confidence.

"You had a quirk like All for One," said Aizawa. "But considering what we've seen… the quirk to pass on quirks?"

"That's why you call yourselves by numbers! Because that's the order you had the quirk in!" added Ochako.

"I prefer thinking of it as the ability to share quirks," said One, "but since everyone but Eight and Nine is dead, the distinction is academic."

Aizawa sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Okay, let me get this straight. You and... your brother both had meta quirks. He could… give and take quirks. You could just pass your own quirk on. He decided to become a criminal mastermind. You decided to, I don't know, invest your quirk until someone had enough quirks to fight your brother?"

"And they're all related," said Todoroki.

"And you're all related," said Aizawa with an air of suffering.

"It was significantly less intentional and more complicated than that, but, yes, those are the basics."

"And, for some reason, All Might thought that it was a good idea to pick a teenager for the job."

"In his defense, Eight thought my brother was dead. The one you should really be throwing shade at is Seven."

"I have questions."

One tilted his head. "Normally, I would answer them, but we're running out of time."

Aizawa sighed. "Alright. I'll do it."

"We want to help, too!" said Ochako.

"Three will find a way to ghost murder me if I get you involved in a fight with my brother."

"So would I, incidentally," said Aizawa, "and then I'd expel all of them."

Iida cleared his throat. "Is there any way for us to help without coming into contact with All for One?”

“Yes,” said One, clapping his hands together. “Getting out before that Suzuki fellow does and giving Izuku some good publicity.”

One’s image seemed to waver and split, then, as if Ochako had crossed her eyes. She blinked, hard, but after that there were still two of them.

“I’ll lead you to my brother’s mind,” said one of the Ones, waving at Aizawa.

“I’ll stay and try to help the rest of you get out,” said the second One. “We should - Oh.”

“Oh?” repeated Aizawa. “‘Oh,’ what?”

“Oh, we forgot about someone,” said One.

“Oh,” said All for One, catching sight of an anomaly. “Who is this little intruder to our gathering?”

“Just some government lackey,” said Miranda, hands still for now, but in a position where she could likely summon ball lightning in a matter of minutes. “Not someone you can use as a hostage.”

“Actually,” said Ryuji, who, unusually, had yet to disappear from All for One’s senses, “if you could figure out a way to get rid of him, it would be convenient.”

“Two!” snapped Nana.

“Come on, we were all thinking it,” said Ryuji.

“You can’t use a him as a murder weapon,” hissed Nana. “Nine will get in trouble.”

“You’rethe one who repeatedly dropped him from a dozen stories up. And the one who was fantasizing about murdering him in real life.”

“That daydream could have belonged to anyone.”

“It had Gran Torino in it.”

“Eight knows Gran, too!”

All for One coughed, returning the full attention of the vestiges to himself. “Is this a pathetic attempt at a distraction?”

“Do you know any other adjectives?” asked his little brother, who was slouching off to the side with his hands in his pockets.

All for One sneered. “Are you not taking this seriously?”

“Not really, no,” said Kazuki, “and neither are you, or else we’d be fighting already. We both know that what you can affect here is limited.” He started counting off on his fingers. “You can’t bring us back with you, you can’t affect Nine’s morality, you can’t take the stockpile, you--”

“I knew it!” shrieked the little intruder, jabbing a finger at All for One. “I knew it! You’re All for One! Midoriya is working for you!”

“Hey, if you’re going to do the sibling thing and prove me wrong about the whole ‘can’t do anything’ thing, can I suggest you start with him?”

All for One narrowed his eyes and scanned his relatives. There was an uncharacteristic lack of protest.

“Are you briar patching?”

“No,” said Hibiki, “they’re quite serious. I personally would prefer it if you didn’t kill him, but not enough to risk myself.”

He could always trust Hibiki to be blunt and straightforward. He got it from his wonderfully forthright and businesslike mother. He hadn’t loved her like he loved his current, still-living spouse, but she had been refreshing.

“Mood,” said Rokuya.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” said dear, sweet Izuku, raising a hand, “but I’m not actually comfortable letting All for One kill him in front of us.”

“Don’t try that now! You’ve shown your true colors, traitor!”

“Don’t worry, kid,” said Daigoro, “we’re pretty sure he won’t be able to.”

“Torture, then.”

“Not sure he can do worse than Nana did.”

“All I did was drop him!” protested Nana.

“Repeatedly, from a great height,” Miranda reminded her.

Everyone was much more relaxed, now, and… were they ignoring him? They were!

“Are you all under the effect of a quirk?”

“Yeah,” said Kazuki. “How else do you think this is happening?”

“No, I mean… your personalities… they’re all…” He gestured at the One for All users who had stopped to watch him.

“Niichan, I’ve tried to tell you this before, but at least for me, I’m not all that great a person. You just suck so enormously that I look like a saint in comparison.”

“That’s not true!”

“It is,” said Kazuki. “I mean, think back to our first argument. I was less concerned with your overall morality and more concerned with the fact that the demon king alway loses--”

“Excuse you, but I’ve beaten every one of you.”

“No you haven’t,” said Hibiki. “I, at least, died with no input from you.”

“Killing you is obviously different from beating you,” said All for One.

“I mean, by the time you chucked me in that vault, it had evolved to a moral and ethical complaint,” said Kazuki, his one visible eye unfocused in remembrance. “But it started out with me worried about you getting yourself killed.”

“No it didn’t.”

“It really did. You know, I don’t think I ever told you this, but if you’d been twenty percent more ethical? I would have absolutely been on your side.”

“What.”

“I mean, it was you, the government, and ragtag resistance groups, and the government sucked.”

“I can confirm that,” said Miranda, “and it continues to be disgustingly corrupt. But since you’re also swimming through the human experimentation cesspit, we’re staying where we are. Don’t get any ideas.” She ended the sentence with a hiss and fog started rolling in.

“I agree that if you stayed away from the kidnapping, murder, and cult stuff, I would have probably stayed with you,” said Ryuji. “Except you did do all that stuff… Why are we even talking about this?”

“I would add personal freedom to the list of things I’d want from you in the hypothetical world where we stayed on the same side,” said Hibiki, “but, otherwise, I agree.”

All for One blinked several times, a small part of his mind cherishing the fact that he had eyes. “Do you all feel that way?” he asked, oddly touched but also strangely disturbed.

“No,” said Daigoro, “the rest of us hate you and the government just about equally.”

All for One turned his gaze to the quivering ‘government lackey.’ “I see. So, I suppose I have the government to thank for this turn of events. Hm? What did you do to have these soft-hearted fools so upset with you?”

The little man squeaked and jabbed something like an epi-pen into his leg. A second later, he vanished.

“Wait,” said Izuku. “Wait. THAT’S how to get out? That’s so stupid! Can we do that?” The last was said as an aside to Nana.

“Not with him here,” said Miranda. Her voice had dropped back into its more dangerous registers.

“Oh, so we are going to fight after all,” said All for One, clapping his hands and smiling. “What fun.”

“I can’t believe you distracted him and got Suzuki to leave like that,” said Aizawa as they stepped out of the fog.

“Well, my brother always did like to hear the sound of his own voice. And be a jerk, but I’m sure that was obvious,” said One. They came to a stop in front of a normal-looking apartment building. One sighed. “This is where we lived,” he said. “Before…” He sighed again.

Aizawa examined One out of the corner of his eyes. He looked tired.

“How much of what you said back there was true?”

“Huh? Most of it, really. My successors built me up as some kind of big good, but I was never anything but a normal guy with a slightly more functional moral compass than my brother.”

From what Aizawa had seen so far, he suspected One was seriously underselling himself.

“I’m sorry,” said One, “but I’m going to have to leave you here. Nine’s quirk should look like a younger version of himself. He couldn’t have been any older than five when it was taken.”

“Anything else I should know about?”

“Sorry, not really… I’ve not exactly been inside my brother’s head. If you manage to find a switch labeled ‘empathy,’ you might take a second to flip it on. Or not. Could be booby trapped. Wouldn’t put it past him.”

“Great,” said Aizawa.

“Midoriya-san,” said Mr. Compress. “We’ve been searching for quite some time now, I hate to say it, but I rather suspect that your son has thoroughly escaped.”

“Escaped,” repeated Midoriya. “Like a prisoner.”

Mr. Compress coughed into his fist. Tomura glared at him through a fog of exhaustion. He was wearing a mask. Why bother with the fist at all? Sometimes, Tomura felt like the only sane person on a planet of aliens.

“Honestly, we didn’t even know he was in the area, Midoriya-san. But… Perhaps at this point, the best course of action would be to return to our, uh… temporary base so that you can get some clothes. I’m sure Dabi will have something that can fit you.”

“Or maybe,” said Toga, hesitantly, “Magne might have had something?”

“Excellent idea, Himiko! Yes, I’m sure Magne’s clothes will be much more appropriate.”

“I don’t know that dressing her in a dead woman’s clothes is a good idea?” whispered Twice.

“Normally,” said Midoriya Inko, “I would say that the fires of my anger at Hisashi provide me with enough warmth to scorch the ground I walk on but—” she shivered, “—unfortunately you may be right. I’m not a young woman anymore, and Izuku would want me to be safe and healthy. So that I can give Hisashi a… firm talking to.”

Tomura shuddered. The ice in her tone was more frigid than the toilet seat in their stupid unheated bathroom at night.

… He hoped Sensei didn’t get a mind reading quirk in the near future. He definitely didn’t want him to know about that metaphor.

“Machia, will you be a dear and take us back? And Mr. Compress, would you put Dr. Garaki back in one of your marbles? I suspect he’ll be… more comfortable that way.”

At least Tomura wasn’t the doctor.

Machia leaned down and let them all get on, though not before fixing Tomura with a glare and delivering some glitchy threat about the ‘Little Lord’ and ‘playing nice.’ Completely redundant, what with Midoriya Inko’s much more pertinent and detailed threat regarding the same thing.

“Hey,” said Twice. “Do you guys smell--? It’s like a barbecue!”

Himiko sniffed the air. “It does smell kinda smokey, guys. Do you think Dabi got in a fight, too?”

“With who?” asked Tomura.

“Well, Izu-chan has to still be around here somewhere, right?” asked Himiko, putting a finger to her lips.

Machia sped up.

“It’s probably just the wind blowing someone’s bonfire smoke this way,” said Spinner.

Machia slowed down again.

Tomura frowned. “There shouldn’t be anyone close enough for that,” he said. If Dabi had set the forest on fire and given away their position, he was going to murder him.

Machia sped up again.

They came into sight of their current base and the source of the smoke.

These happened to be the same thing.

“I’m going to kill Dabi,” said Tomura.

“Are we sure it was him?” asked Twice.

“I don’t care.”

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #fanfic #long night in the valley

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savethelastdan · 4 years ago

Text

Sesskagu Week Day 2: Green (Apart)

Idea came from @dearestpartnerofgreatness

"I was wonderin' when you'd get here." Sliding both hands behind his head, Inuyasha looked his half-brother up and down with more than a little smugness. "Took a week to finally admit to yourself that you were wrong, stupid?"

"I was not wrong," Sesshomaru growled, despite the tinge of relief that the hanyou's statement proved that he'd successfully hunted Kagura down. That he'd spotted his brother sleeping on a curved branch of a tree outside heart of the village was both a detriment (in that he had to listen to him talk) and a blessing (he had no interest in walking around the village looking like a fool while she danced around avoiding him). "She overreacted."

A single dog ear twitched in amusement. "Great apology. Should go over well."

"I would think," Sesshomaru retorted, voice lowering as a group of villagers reached the top of the hill and promptly about-faced upon seeing him, "you would welcome the opportunity to remove her from your home, so that you may have peace once again."

Inuyasha's mouth opened comically wide before snapping shut. "Humph. Fine."

Stretching until several bones in his back cracked, he leapt down from the tree and bounded off. Sesshomaru turned his back to the tree, trying to appear unflappable as possible.

He hadn't been wrong, no matter how much the wind sorceress fussed. If anything, she had taken advantage of his generosity. Had he not lost months of sleep, seeking a way to stuff her soul back in an unmastered body, with an unmastered heart at her disposal? Had he not then allowed her to join his party on their travels despite the constant arguing between herself and Jaken and how his mood suffered because of it?

She had repaid him by deciding, for no reason at all, to start collecting. Nothing of importance; naturally, the bits and bobbles that drew Kagura's interest were as useless as they were commonplace. Withering leaves, sharp stones in muddied colors, feathers and scales and scraps of cloth or petrified wood, all constantly underfoot.

It was childish. It was pointless. And so, after the hundredth time something small and irksome found itself under his foot, Sesshomaru had tossed the whole pile away.

Which was how he'd been left with a blow to his chest that took a full day to heal, while Kagura ran off to invade Inuyasha's stupid little house in the stupid little village. The fact she'd rather be surrounded by humans than be around him was taken with the full force of insult she'd meant it to be. By now she'd probably convinced Kohaku and Rin to take her side…

At least he had Jaken's understanding.

He should not even be rewarding such a tantrum, by marching here to collect her. But…despite the headaches that her presence occasionally brought, her absence had endeared him to certain feelings. Those that, perhaps, could be analogized to how Kagura herself might have felt, back in the days where her much-wanted heart had been miles away.

Not that he could ever bring himself to say something like that out loud. Even to her, who had managed to wring quite a few utterances out of him that even Rin would have had trouble believing had come from Sesshomaru's own tongue.

There had to be a line somewhere.

(Perhaps time would wear it down, eventually, but unless she came home, the situation was moot.)

Annoyance stung the space behind his teeth as Inuyasha returned, no wind witch in tow. From the grumpy expression on the hanyou's face, he wasn't too thrilled about it either.

"She says she ain't interested in talkin' to ya." Folding both arms over his chest, Inuyasha glared in Sesshomaru's direction. "But you're right, she's overstayed her welcome. So start thinkin' how you're going to convince her to leave."

Sesshomaru bristled; demonic energy flooded his veins. "I do not take orders from- "

"Cut it out, you stopped being scary when you let Kagome start callin' ya Big Brother." The last few words were said in a high-pitched mimicry of the priestess, though it was quickly followed by the classically-ridiculous smile that Inuyasha always got when he mentioned his wife. "If it helps, I think she's just being difficult. She stopped thinkin' up creative ways to kill you a few days ago; the rest of the time, she's just been moping around. One gritted-teeth apology'll probably work."

That most certainly did not help, because as soon as they were in the same room again Sesshomaru was sure the reason for her ire would no doubt return in full force.

Inuyasha's brow dropped. "You seriously not gonna do it?"

"Would you?" Sesshomaru retorted icily, before he could stop himself.

"I," Inuyasha said, with the slow relish of someone who had been waiting for this exact question, "would've never thrown out her stuff in the first place."

Tenseiga and Bakusaiga's commentary was, while amusing, not particularly useful. Beating his brother to a pulp for being a know-it-all would do nothing but earn the ire of his sister-in-law. Which Sesshomaru did not need today.

"What's the problem with having stuff, anyway," Inuyasha continued, scratching behind one ear as though this was a casual family visit. "Other than the fan and feathers, it's not like she got to keep any shit around before. From what Kohaku said, Naraku didn't like for any of 'em to go exploring much, either. She's got the time and you've got the space, so it's a stupid thing to fight about."

As much as he did not want to admit it (and one could imagine just how much that was), that was a fair point. As was his belief that she could have chosen a more interesting and less obnoxious form of self-expression.

"You know, she mentioned somethin' a few times when she was cursing you…" Trying to keep his tone even was difficult, but the thought of Kagura going home helped. Even though this particular statement felt kinda unfair, even against someone like Sesshomaru. "How you didn't lift a finger to save her life, and now you won't even let her enjoy it, or…?"

Sitting with his feet propped on the windowsill, Jaken hummed a happy tune. It had been over a week without the annoying witch around, and he felt in much better spirits with her gone! No more sudden bursts of wind to knock him over in the corridors, or piles of random garbage from who-knew-where cluttering up the place. And there was still at least two weeks before Rin and Kohaku came for their annual summer visit and disturbed his peace.

Granted, Lord Sesshomaru's mood had been…sour since she'd gone, to the point that he'd left the castle in a huff the day before. But that was not a problem for Jaken; if anything, it hopefully meant that soon they'd be back to the old days of 24/7-wandering, offering challenges to whatever foolish yokai crossed their path! Not that having time to rest in the castle wasn't nice, but he certainly missed the days before Lord Sesshomaru had settled down, so-to-speak, and regulated his travels to the fall and spring seasons.

Suddenly, a powerful aura electrified the air, sending a chill zipping up through his legs. Leaning towards the window, he scanned the landscape with excitement. That must be Lord Sesshomaru! Perhaps he had returned with a task, a quest, just like the days before his Lord's heart had turned -

Oh no. Oh no.

Because yes, indeed, there was his esteemed Lord touching down in the front courtyard. But unfortunately, right at his side, with a smile he could see from here, was that annoying sorceress. As he watched, Sesshomaru brushed a hand against her arm with such uncharacteristic softness that it made the kappa feel ill.

Kagura said something (probably wicked, from the way her scarlet eyes glinted in the sunlight) and then twisted to unload something off her back. To Jaken's horror, she was carrying a knapsack. The same one she used to collect her stupid little trinkets all the time.

And it looked heavy.

#sesskagu #sesskagu week #sesskaguweek21 #sesshomaru #kagura #jaken #inuyasha #savethelastdan #shespitsfire

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silkling · 4 years ago

Note

Could we see some more of the Smokescreen is Amalgamous AU?

Very gladly! That AU is a guilty pleasure of mine so I’m happy someone out there likes it!

———————————————————————————————————

There was darkness. It was cold, and painful and it pulled-

The planet screamed, and his people died. They died, and died , and-

Then, heat. Like a blast, it exploded-

His children, his dearest, beloved children, could only watch in horror-

His spark sang with terror, so much he thought-

“Amalgamous.”

“Remember.”

“Do it.”

“You must remember.”

And so the other children and their father combined their powers-

“You have a duty.”

But things went wrong-

“YOU MUST-“

——————————

Smokescreen was torn from his processor with a rough, choking gasp, and he felt something disconnect from the back of his helm. His shuddered on the hard metal berth he was strapped down to, his optics taking a moment longer to clear of the dark static clouding them. When they did, he turned his head towards the sounds he was hearing and saw Knock Out disconnecting Megatron from the cortical psychic patch. The warlord was on his pedes and at Smokescreen’s face in half a sparkbeat.

“What was that, Autobot? Why could I not walk through your processor as I pleased?” he snarled.

Smokescreen could only groan and let his helm fall back against the berth. “You really think I know? I don’t. I’ve been having those weird dreams and hearing those voices in my helm ever since I got to Earth.” he snapped irritably. “Sure, I heard weird things in my recharge sometimes on Cybertron, but it only ever got bad on this planet.” If he could have thrown his hands up, he would have.

Megatron stepped back, seemingly confused. “…you are very free with your tongue on this matter.” he remarked dryly.

Smokescreen shot him a look. “It’s annoying. And frustrating. I don’t know if I’m going insane or if there’s just a really traumatic set of memories from my youth that suddenly want me to remember them, but I never get a clear grasp on what I happen to see or hear. You think I want any of that? You got snippets of just a couple of my nights. I have to deal with that slag all night, every night, whenever I recharge.” his tone was tired and wry.

Megatron, blessedly, didn’t seem to take offense. He was too confused and weirded out. It seemed he got over it quickly though, because then his face twisted into a cruel snarl again and he turned to Knock Out. “We will try again. Increase the strength of the machine. I intend to go deeper. I will learn the function of these infernal relics and the location of the Autobot base.” he spat, whirling and returning to the other berth.

Before Smokescreen could protest, the patch was attached to the back of his helm again and he was pulled back into his own processor.

——————————

He had snuck out of his berthroom. He knew he wasn’t supposed to, and if one of his big brothers found out he’d be in so much trouble, but he was bored! It was so dull in his room, and even trying to imagine new shapes and forms and doing his best to change into them was starting to feel monotonous. He just wanted to explore! He was still a sparkling, was it too much to ask for some entertainment?

He toddled last guards and servants alike, staying close to the wall and in the shadows to keep out of sight. He had a mission, and no one was going to stop him!

“There you are, Ammy! I was looking for you, little one.”

No one except his big sister, apparently. He squealed as slim hands lifted him up and tucked him against a lithe chest, his small lips turning downwards in a pout. “Sol! No!” he whined.

Sol only smiled indulgently. “Oh? Why not? Why aren’t you in your room, little Ammy?”

He sagged. “Don’t wanna.” He mumbled. “‘S boring. No one wants to play and lessons are hard and big brothers don’t like me so can’ ask them for help.” he said miserably.

Sol softened. “Oh sweetspark, why would you ever believe our brothers don’t like you?”

He shot her a confused look, lifting a hand and trying to change it into a claw, only…it failed and transformed into a flipper instead. After a moment, the transformation seemed to shudder and his servo reverted back to normal without him having sent the command. “Cause I can’t do good with the gift Sire gave me?”

Sol laughed, light and free. “Oh little one.” she cooed. “It’s perfectly alright that you’re going slow. You have a wonderful, amazing gift, and if it takes you a little longer to figure it out then that’s not a problem. Our brothers don’t blame you for that, nor do they hate you.”

He whimpered, lower lip trembling. “Then why…?”

She sighed. “They are mechs, dearest little brother. Very foolish young mechs with the emotional intelligence of a treat oven.” she remarked dryly.

He blinked, then giggled despite himself.

Sol smiled at him, pleased to see her youngest brother cheering up. “Promise me you won’t ever be as emotionally posh and stunted as them, will you little Ammy?”

He beamed, his chest plates puffing out. “Promise!” he crowed.

Sol grinned. “Good. Now, where was it you were going on your little adventure? Perhaps you’d like a lieutenant for your quest?” she asked.

He gasped, delighted. Big sister was going to join him? That would be perfect! “The Singing Crystals!”

Sol laughed, and turned in the direction of the gardens. “Then to the Singing Crystals we shall go!”

He could only giggle in utter delight, a gentle adoration for his sister and sheer joy at being acknowledged filling his spark.

Now, if only he could convince his biggest brother to let him try his cool sword…

——————————

Smokescreen groaned as he was forced into the conscious world again. “Can you stop that?” he complained weakly. “It’s a pain and I can’t think right.”

The warlord, who was also coming up after that, only snarled and stood. “What was that?” he spat.

“I don’t know! How many times do I have to tell you! That was new, even for me, but I wouldn’t be able to tell you anything about it because I have no clue what it was!”

The exhausted shout seemed to give Megatron pause. “So I see.” he said darkly. “You do not have siblings, then?”

“No!” Smokescreen groaned. “No brothers, no sisters, and I don’t even remember my creators. I grew up in a Youth Center, for Pit’s sake. Not…what that was.”

Megatron hummed. The youngling seemed to be telling the truth. He could tell that the repeated uses of the cortical psychic patch had exhausted the young mechling. There was no deception in his tone or body language or EM field. The warlord thought he was too mentally drained to even try and come up with a proper lie. Which meant he really did know nothing, and that was even more irritating. With a disgusted scoff, he grabbed the odd relic and turned to the door.

“Knock Out!” he barked over his shoulder. “You will continue. Do not stop until you have the information I require. Rip his mind to pieces if you must!” and then the doors shut behind him, and the two sports cars were left alone.

Knock Out sighed, and before the youngling could pull his mind together he reattached the patch, before setting the machine to pull him out after a set amount of time and went to the other berth to plus himself into it. Whatever his Lord demanded, he had to obey. It was annoying, really. This task was so beneath him. Regardless, he attached himself to the machine, and then the world faded to dark.

——————————

They were floating in darkness. Smokescreen didn’t know why. Though, he was pleased to note he wasn’t being thrown into visions or voices or memories this time around. At least he could avoid that headache. But, he couldn’t see the medic and that worried him. Was the Deception actually rooting around his memory banks. He felt a sharp pain, and a flash of memory from his time at the Archives assaulted him before it faded. Apparently yes, Knock Out was in fact ripping through his memories to get what he wanted.

Panic boiled in his chest and he wanted to scream. No! He refused to let the ‘Cons figure out what the Keys were for or where the base was. He wouldn’t betray the team like that. He wouldn’t! His panic grew as there was another stab of pain, another snapshot of a memory, and then…something in the very depths of his processor surged to the forefront. It wasn’t a personality. It wasn’t a memory. Smokescreen knew that much. Something in his spark settled, telling him that it was an echo, and impression of instinct and reflex and knowledge that had once been his. It circled and coiled around him, settling against his frame, and Smokescreen….gave in to it. Maybe it would help him stop knock Out.

As soon as he did, the feel of the Autobot’s mind changed, becoming older, more powerful and heavier on the one rooting through his memories. It made Knock Out pause, and he sensed a presence roaring towards him.

“Leave, intruder. You have no right to sift through the mind of a Prime. Leave, before I see fit to fry your processor!”

Knock Out gasped, and then the thing, whatever it was, he couldn’t even see it, rammed into him at full speed, and he was flung from the Autobot’s mind.

——————————

Knock Out came to with a yell and an ungainly flail. He flailed himself right off the berth, hitting the ground with a harsh crash and blinking the static from his vision. He looked to the Autobot to demand what in the Pit had happened, only-

Only there was a femme there. She was transparent and her colors couldn’t really be determined, her flickering form shining with a golden orange glow. She turned to him at his shout, humming. She seemed amused. “I see you’ve learned what it means to go up against my little brother, medic.” a faint smirk twisted at elegant features, “I suggest you endeavor to avoid angering him in the future. He is the most laid back of all my siblings, but it only means that in the end, his anger is the rarest and most fearsome.” she purred.

Then she seemingly dismissed him, turning to the Autobot instead. She leaned in, her fingers brushing his cheek. “It’s time to wake up, dearest Ammy. There’s still work to be done.” she cooed. She swiped her hand through the machine for the cortical psychic patch, and it fritzed and disconnected itself from the youngling. He began stirring, and the femme smiled. “Come now, don’t be difficult. Wake up, little brother.” she whispered, her hand swiping through the restraints. They disengaged, and the Autobot fell to his knees on the floor.

That was enough to snap Knock Out out of his staring, and he made to get up and stop whatever this all was when he felt a clawed servo dig into his shoulder. He glanced back, seeing another pale, ghostly shape, this time a large and pointy mech flowing with a deep blue light, and baring sharp dentae at him. “Do not try to stop us, little mech. Will not allow it.” And then the mech glowed brighter for a second, and Knock Out fell back into unconsciousness.

——————————

Smokescreen onlined his optics to the phantom feeling of fingers brushing his cheek. He shook his head, clearing the buzz of static, and his vocalizer clicked with his confusion. He remembered the odd presence in his mind, that had been a part of him but also one not fully integrated, and…he didn’t know what to make of it. It was gone, now, resettled into the back of his processor, but he could still feel it there. It was important. Whatever it was, it was the other half of…whatever is was the voices seemed to desperate for him to remember.

He looked up, doorwings hitching when he saw the ghostly femme. It was the one from his vision. Or had it actually be a memory? If it was, isn’t hadn’t been his. She smiled at him, leaning in to brush lips across his forehelm.

“You must go now, little brother. You have a duty to fulfill. Reclaim the Keys and return to your friends.” she smiled gently. “You’re getting very close, my Ammy. You must remember soon. Cybertron’s children depend on it.” Before he could question her, she stepped back and stood. “I cannot maintain my presence on this plane any longer. The rest is up to you.” And then she was gone.

He blinked, resetting his vocalizer, and glanced over to see the medic was unconscious. He had no idea what was going on. He was starting to accept that this just might be his life now. “Okay then.” he said after a moment.

He stood, and his optics fell on the Phase Shifter on the table by the berth he’d been strapped to. He was quick to grab it and lock it around his wrist, and then he was moving. Most of his escape to the upper deck was a haze. He moved on instinct built in by his training as an Elite Guard, but also….also other instincts, instincts that could only come from that place in the back of his processor that felt like it was a piece of his very spark.

It was when he was in free fall that he was able to pull back to himself, just as his comm. beeped. He accepted it, already knowing who was on the other end.

“Kid!”

Yep, that was Ratchet. “Hey, Ratch!” he said cheerfully, though he couldn’t keep the sheer exhaustion from his voice. “I really, really need a ground bridge right about now!”

“It’s coming kid, just hold on.”

And then there was silence on his end of the comm. line. After a moment, a ground bridge opened under him, and he remembered to turn off the phase shifter, stowing the Omega Keys in his subspace while he was at it. Of course, Megatron chose that moment to slam into him and send him flying. He panicked, and when he tried to turn the phase shifter on again he realized he couldn’t. It had been damaged when Megatron hit him. It would be an easy enough fix…if he could get back to base, that is. Unfortunately, it looked like that wouldn’t be happening. The ground was too close for Ratchet to open up another ground bridge.

“Youngling!” Ratchet’s voice was frantic over the comms. “You’re about to fall into a technological dead zone. We won’t be able to communicate with you or track your-“ and then the signal cut off. Slag. His team couldn’t save him, and Megatron was quickly gaining on his falling form.

If only he had wings and thrusters-!

And then his doorwings and pedes tingled, and he did. That same instinct that had led him out of the Nemesis guided him into turning on the thrusters, and then he was shooting up and away from the ground. He increased power to them, and he was rocketing away from Megatron’s pursuing form. His processor was scrambling like mad, trying to understand why he was suddenly flight capable. This shouldn’t be possible. Only Shifters we’re able to transform so freely and fluidly. But Shifters had also died out generations ago, so he couldn’t be one…could he?

Yes. That increasingly familiar instinct purred.

He kept flying, going and going as his mind buzzed and could never come up with answers. He only stopped when his pedes, or rather his thrusters, started to throb, and he realized he was pushing too much power into them. He landed, stumbling and crashing as his pedes touched down, and he just wanted the unfamiliar additions gone. His frame tingled again, and then they were gone. Though, he realized his pedes still hurt, and when he looked down he saw they were damaged. The injuries had carried over from the thrusters, maybe? It didn’t matter. The others would assume it was Decepticon doing. He wouldn’t correct them. Whatever his frame had done…he didn’t think it was wise to let anyone know just yet.

His comm. beeped again, and he accepted on reflex.

“Smokescreen!” Oh hey, it was Prime. “Youngling, are you harmed? We have picked up your signal once more. How did you get there?”

“I-“ and he couldn’t keep his vocalizer from spitting static as his voice broke due to exhaustion. He reset it, trying again. “I don’t know, Sir.” he said, falling back on ingrained military training. “After I lost communications everything just happened so fast and it’s all just a haze.”

There was silence on the other end, before Prime’s once came back, notably softer. “Ratchet is sending a ground bridge. Just come home for now, Smokescreen. We can worry about the details of your escape once you’ve recovered. Are you hurt?”

The ground bridge spiraled open in front of him, and the young Praxian swallowed. “A little. Mostly tired. I have the Keys.” he said numbly, then dropped the line and stepped through the bridge.

He pulled the Omega Keys from his subspace as he did so. As soon as he stepped into the base, the bridge closed behind him and he pushed the Keys into the arms of the nearest person, who turned out to be Bumblebee. He heard Ratchet curse, and realize the medic probably saw the state of his pedes. Yeah, they weren’t pretty. They were also very, very painful. He turned to the medic to ask him about that, but before he could he felt a small prick in his neck cables, and the was slipping into blissful darkness.

——————————

Back in the forest where Smokescreen had stepped into the bridge, two ghostly forms shimmered into view. One, a golden femme. The other, a midnight mech.

The femme spoke first. “Even in a new frame and with no memories of his true self, Ammy is still the same.” she sounded inexplicably fond.

“Ugh. I would have hoped his lack of memories would grant him the chance to learn maturity.” the mech groused.

She laughed. “Come now, Onyx. You know you love him as much as the rest of us.”

Onyx growled, eyes narrowing. “He has to remember soon,Solus. Otherwise, it may be too late.”

“He will.” Solus said, confident. “Of course, he would remember sooner if Sire would stop being so cryptic and just send him a clear message.”

The two ghostly forms looked at each other, before snorting and devolving to laughter.

“The day Sire abandons his riddles and puzzles is the day the Unmaker decides to become a treat maker. It’s not happening.” Onyx sniggered roughly.

Solus hummed. “No, I imagine not. That just means it’s up to dearest Amalgamous to figure it out on his own. I have faith, though. He’s always been clever.”

Onyx sighed. “You’re right, I know you are. I just wish he’d hurry it up and remember. The fate of Cybertron may well depend on it.”

And then, the two forms faded from this plane and returned to their own, the powers that had allowed them to cross over now spent. All that was left was two swirling eddies of leaves on the wind, in the spaces they had once stood.

———————————————————————————————————

And there it is! It’s all starting to come together at last! Poor Smokescreen still has no idea what’s happening, but he’s getting more and more pieces of the puzzle with each day. This time, he even got a proper memory! And his Shifter abilities are starting to return!

Unfortunately for him, now it’s not just Optimus who suspects that there’s something up with Smokey. Megatron just doesn’t know if the young Autobot is insane, or is it’s something…more.

I hope everyone liked that! It was fun to write. I like Smokescreen. I wish more people did.

As always, my ask box is always open if you want to ask a question about anything to do with me/my blog/my AUs, or if you just want to send in a fic prompt yourself.

Until next time, friends!

#silkling request fics #request fic #Smokescreen is Amalgamous Prime AU #TFP #transformers prime #tfp smokescreen #smokescreen #tfp Megatron #Megatron #tfp knock out #knock out #Solus Prime #Onyx Prime #maccadam #smokescreen is tired #he just wants a good night’s sleep #his dad can’t stop being a cryptic asshole though #Primus loves his children he just doesn’t believe in giving people straight answers #smokescreen is going to throttle Primus when he sees him again #he’s also going to have very pointed questions for Alpha Trion #“WHY DIDN’T YOU EVER TELL ME I AM A REINCARNATION OF YOUR BROTHER.#-smokescreen to alpha trion #in Trion’s defense he was never told #he’s the only original prime not dead so he didn’t REALLY know #he just liked smokescreen cause smokescreen was sort of like Amalgamous #(I mean he IS amalgamous but trion didn’t know. neither did Smokey)

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walkerwords · 4 years ago

Text

“The Savior Sessions” Part 24 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: When a disaster hits Hilltop, Michonne rides out to help, leaving Carol, Daryl, and the reader back at Alexandria to handle things. When an act of compassion leads to an accidental death, how will the people of Alexandria view their prisoner? What happens when Negan’s fate is up for debate?

Word Count: 5354

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “As The World Caves In” by Matt Maltese

Note: I think we all know were this one is going.

—————

For once, the silence of the night was comforting.

“What is this?” Negan whispered in the dark of his cell. His finger looped through the chain around your neck, feeling the shell casing you had attached to it.

You had needed him that night, slipping into his cell after everyone had gone to bed. Negan hadn’t even hesitated to pull you into his arms on his cot, wrapping his long arms around your waist and down your sides. He hadn’t waited any time to press his lips against yours as his hands explored your body that was pressed up against him.

Your hands had moved on their own accord, pulling him towards you to fill that need that was almost an addiction. Now, as you lay beneath the blanket with the cool night air filtering through the small window, Negan looked down at you with love in his eyes.

Your hand found his and played with the makeshift pendant as well. “Daryl found it,” you whispered back. “It’s one of mine from the war,” you explained.

“Where did he find it?” Negan asked, furrowing his brow as his fingers caressed the brass beveling.

“The Sanctuary,” you said, letting your eyes close as his hand moved from your necklace to your neck. “I guess I made my mark there more than I thought.”

“You definitely made an impression,” Negan said as he leaned down and pressed his lips against your pulse point, letting his teeth graze against the sensitive skin of your neck, but you had caught a double-meaning in his words.

“What do you mean?” you asked, pushing him back.

“What?” Negan asked, looking at you with heavy eyes.

“Why did you say that like you knew me before all of...this?” you asked. “Did I miss our introduction or something?” Negan was silent for a moment before he nodded.

“I... I knew who you were the whole time my people were fighting yours,” he admitted. “I noticed you that first night in the clearin’. You were so...resilient even though you were out of it for most of it. I could tell by the way you responded to everything that you weren’t someone to fuck with. Then, I began to notice you later when I would visit Alexandria and then Jadis mentioned something.”

“Jadis?” you asked, confused.

“She knew you, right?”

“Briefly,” you said. You had been with Rick when the group had met the eccentric and odd woman. You didn’t think you had left that much of an impression on her. “I didn’t know her that well.”

“Well, she knew you,” Negan confirmed. “When she grabbed me after Rick tried to take me out, she told me that you were going to be the one to kill me if she didn’t do it. Not Rick, you.”

“I don’t understand,” you said.

“Jadis saw something in you, I guess,” he said, his hand reaching down to rub at your hip.

“She saw a killer.”

“I don’t know, but it didn’t matter because I had already had you in my sights. When you first came to see me in this cell, I pretended like I didn’t know who you were, but the truth is, I’ve always known.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Call me old fashioned, but I wanted to get to know you the regular way. You seemed to want to talk to me like I was just another man and not the killer you met all those years ago,” he said. “I didn’t want you to think I was judging you for what you had done in the past.”

“You wanted to know me and not the sniper,” you realized.

“Is that so terrible?” he asked. Looking up at him, you began to think about everything that had happened since you had begun to speak to him. Even further back, you looked at the war and how he had been before his time spent in isolation. There was a part of you that didn’t understand what it all meant, but there was a small bit that did. Perhaps he didn’t change that much, but instead, the man who lay in bed with you had always been there underneath the mask he wore.

It only took someone to love him to peel that layer away.

“No,” you answered, “it’s not terrible at all.” Negan gave you a soft smile and then you were pulling him down to you, kissing him firmly as he maneuvered himself to wrap your leg around his waist and together you fell into pure bliss.

------

It was early the next day when you ran into Michonne who was saddling up with Judith at her side.

“What’s this?” you asked, reaching down to rest your hands on Judith’s shoulder. The young girl looked up at you with a toothy grin that you returned.

“A tree went down in Hilltop,” Michonne explained. “Ezekiel called me this morning. The wall is down and Walkers are moving in fast.”

“Is anyone hurt?” you asked, your concern growing.

“A few, but nothing too major,” Michonne said. “The biggest problem is that Alpha’s herd is attacking now that they’re vulnerable and they need help. I’m taking some fighters with me to help, Judith too.”

“What do you need me to do?” you asked.

“Keep an eye on things here,” said Michonne. “Alpha’s Walkers are still showing up and tensions are very heavy right now with Lydia. I’m worried something may happen if people don’t keep calm.”

“I got it, don’t worry,” you said. Michonne then reached out and grabbed your shoulder.

“I know you do,” she said. “I hope you know that I will always trust your judgment, no matter what.” You paused at that and realized that you had actually needed to hear it. Especially from Michonne.

“Thanks, Michonne,” you said. “Tell Enid and the others I said hello, okay?”

“I will,” Michonne said and then you kneeled down to see Judith.

“Take care of your mom, okay? Don’t let her work herself too hard, okay little miss?” Judith smiled at you and offered you her pinky. You hooked it with your own and then pulled her in for a hug, squeezing her tight.

“I’ll take care of her if you take care of him,” Judith whispered in your ear. You pulled back and gave her a wink. She took that as a yes and then you lifted her up into the makeshift carriage.

“I told Daryl that we’ll be available through the radio at Barrington,” Michonne said.

“I’ll keep an ear out,” you promised and then you waved as Michonne led the caravan out, heading off to help your friends in need.

With a sigh, you went in search of Daryl who you knew was either sulking in his room or playing with Dog. Spotting RJ running after the canine, you jogged over to join in on the fun and hopefully get some relief from all the thoughts in your head.

————

Lydia was alone when Negan found her.

On laundry duty for the day, he slipped through the many clotheslines and discovered the teenager who was digging in the dirt. “Hey, you,” he said, smiling down at her.

Lydia looked up at him with a small smile of her own, one that was always either reserved for him, you, or Daryl. “Hi,” she said.

“Why are you hiding out here?” Negan asked, sitting into his hip.

“Who says I’m hiding?” she challenged.

“Me,” he said, kneeling down to her. “What’s going on?”

“Gage and his friends are still being…”

“Assholes?” Negan offered and she nodded. “Shit, kiddo, you can’t let them get to you.”

“Easier said than done,” Lydia said with a sigh.

“You need to tell (Y/N), they’ll shut that down,” he said, but Lydia was shaking her head. “This whole not wanting to cause trouble shit gotta stop, Lydia. (Y/N) doesn’t like disorder and they sure as shit don’t like it when someone they care about is being treated like this.”

“I don’t want to start anything,” she said.

“It’s already started. It started the day these people met the skins,” Negan said and then took a pause before continuing. “You might not know this, but there are plenty of people around here that have been on the ‘wrong side’,” he explained.

“Like who?”

“Well, for one, me, as you well know,” he said. “Then there was Tara, the woman who used to run Hilltop. She wasn’t always on the winning side and yet these people loved her so much. Then there are people like Laura who once worked for me or even Gabriel who I believe turned on Alexandria for a short bit before joining in on the campfire sing-a-long.” Lydia looked at him in confusion at that last one. “Point is, kid, is that these people are some of the most frustratingly forgiving fuckers I have ever met.”

“They haven’t forgiven you,” Lydia said.

“Well, I’m special,” he said with a wink that caused Lydia to laugh. “Seriously, though, you should tell them.”

“Tell ‘em what?” Daryl’s voice came from behind Negan. You were just behind him, trying to keep up. Once Daryl saw Negan approaching Lydia, there wasn’t much you could do to stop him.

“Daryl,” you warned, trying to get in between him and Negan.

“Lydia’s let’s go,” Daryl snapped and Negan sighed, knowing where this was going.

“I’m good,” Lydia argued.

“Now,” Daryl snapped and with a sigh, she got to her feet and stormed away. You tried to stop her with a hand on her arm, but she shrugged you off. You then glared at Daryl who didn’t back down from you.

“She is just trying to fit it,” Negan interjected and you began shaking your head behind Daryl’s back that clearly said don’t antagonize him.

“Well, she ain’t gonna do that if she hangs out with you, is she?” Daryl said.

“Daryl, stop it,” you said, pushing him back.

“Nah, (Y/N),” he said. “I don’t care what’s goin’ on here,” he said gesturing between the two of you, “but I don’t need people associatin’ her with him.”

“That’s not up to you,” you said sternly, keeping yourself between Negan and Daryl. “Lydia lives with me, she’s bonded with Negan. Whether you like it or not, that interaction is gonna happen.” Daryl went to say something else before he huffed and walked away, not giving Negan a second glance.

“(Y/N)…” Negan began.

“Don’t,” you said, keeping your back to him.

“Daryl is too important to you. Don’t piss him off,” Negan said. You finally turned to face him and crossed your arms.

“Daryl and I have been at worse crossroads. Besides, he’s more pissed at Carol right now than you or me. I’ll talk to him,” you promised.

“Just…” Negan trailed off, reaching for you and you let him take your face in his hands. “Don’t push him away. There’s too much history.”

“I won’t,” you promised and he nodded before kissing you quickly. You ran your hand through his hair before following after Daryl and Lydia, eager to diffuse the tension. “Daryl, listen to me,” you said as you caught up to them. Lydia was fuming at him.

“We were just talking,” Lydia was saying as she stalked away from him.

“He ain't your friend,” Daryl argued.

“He gets me, okay? Besides they’re always together!” Lydia said gesturing to you. You went to argue, but couldn’t find the words.

“Just stay away from him, alright?” Daryl said. When Lydia went to retort, she froze looking over both of your shoulders. “What?” he asked and then turned just as you did.

Rage immediately entered your chest. Painted on the door of Michonne’s house were the words, “Silence the Whisperers”. You had no doubt that a similar message would be waiting for you at home as well.

----------

Lydia wasn’t speaking to you or Daryl as the day wore on.

You kept an eye on her wherever she was, as did Laura and Gabriel when they had her in their sights. You were trying to give the girl space, but you were at a crossroads with her just as you were with Daryl. There was too much tension across the communities. You hadn’t heard from Oceanside in a while, but Hilltop was in trouble. Michonne knew how to handle it, but you had that itch to ride out as well.

However, you knew that leaving now would only give Lydia’s bullies an opportunity to gang up on her further. This was starting to feel as if you were back in the early days of Alexandria when nobody trusted anyone. It was as if you were walking on eggshells, just waiting for the cracks to come.

It was nighttime by the time you dragged yourself home. You had been trying to help Siddiq with Coco while Rosita slept. Dante took over the infirmary for the night so the new father had some time off and you were more than willing to help out with the little one. Besides, it did keep your mind busy.

Walking into your house, you pulled your sword off your hip. “Lydia?” you called, running a hand through your hair. When there was no answer, you paused in the living room. “Lydia!” you called again, but your house remained silent. “Shit,” you swore.

Grabbing your gear, you headed back out into the night, in search of the teen. Nobody was out at this time of night, everyone preferring to stay in the warmth of their homes. Jogging towards Michonne’s house where you knew Daryl was living, the entire building was silent. That is, except for Carol who sat on the stoop, staring into the night.

For the first time in a long time, you couldn’t get a read on the woman. You had been with her since the beginning, watching as she grew from fragile and timid to brave and daunting. Carol was everything that you had wanted to be, especially since she still held onto that caring nature that had made you love her immediately.

However, now you were seeing the other side of Carol that was never all that comforting. When she needed it, the lone wolf side of her came out and it always started with simmering anger. You couldn’t imagine what she was feeling after what Alpha had done to her child, but there was a predatory look in the woman’s eyes that sent chills down your spine. You began to wonder if Alpha had seen it yet and if she had, was she scared?

Carol didn’t even seem to notice you as you passed her and headed towards the cell. However, that door was open as well. Negan must have been just finishing up his work for the day, you figured. You didn’t know what time it was, but all this silence was making you worried.

Just as you were about to head down another street, you noticed Daryl coming out of the house, a frown on his face. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he noticed your stressed expression.

“Is she with you?” you asked as he approached.

“Hmm?”

“Lydia? She wasn’t at home, is she with you?”

“I thought she was with you,” he said with narrowed eyes. You were about to speak when a shout of alarm caught your attention. You and Daryl looked at each other before you took off in the direction of the commotion.

Shouts of pain and the sound of crying came from the laundry area. When you arrived, you were struck by what you saw. Lydia was on the ground and her arms and legs were wrapped around Negan who kneeled over her protectively.

“Negan killed her!” a voice rang out and you turned to where everyone was looking and that's when you saw the body. A woman, someone you recognized as one of Ozzy’s people. She was a part of the highwaymen and now her blood was staining the ground.

“What happened?” you whispered as you faced Negan, but he wasn’t moving from Lydia’s side as his eyes bore into yours.

“He didn’t do anything! No, it wasn't... He didn't do anything!” Lydia cried from the ground, choking on her sobs.

“Get him out of here!” Daryl yelled and when you tried to stop him, he pushed you back, grabbing you by your arm. “I’m trying to diffuse the tension.” Guards rushed at Negan to pull him off of Lydia, but she was resisting, clinging to Negan’s boots.

Eventually, Negan managed to untangle her from his legs and walked willingly from the scene. You were frozen as Daryl took Negan’s spot, trying to soothe her. “He didn’t do anything,” she cried.

“I know, I know,” Daryl whispered to her as he stroked her hair. Lydia’s eyes found yours and you wanted to go to her, but there were too many thoughts going on your head. For months you had been saying that you would choose others over Negan, but now? Now you weren’t sure what the hell you were going to do. “(Y/N),” Daryl said, getting your attention, “get her to Siddiq.”

Nodding, you knelt down and helped Lydia to her feet. She leaned heavily on you as you began to take her towards the infirmary. Behind you, you could hear Daryl’s deep voice barking out orders for the others to disperse, and then you watched as Gabriel began walking towards the meeting hall. It was time for the council to convene.

-------

“Hold that right there,” Siddiq said as he pressed a towel to Lydia’s face. “Easy, now,” he soothed.

You stood next to her, waiting for Daryl to arrive. Lydia looked so small as she curled in on herself on the exam table. With her hair stuck to her neck with sweat and dirt brushed on her clothes, she looked as she did when you had first met her. That image of a frightened girl was burned in your mind as Michonne leveled her sword at her head. Now, that look on Lydia’s face had returned.

“Are you okay?” Siddiq asked you as he wrung out another towel. You nodded, not trusting your voice right now. Feeling a tear roll down your cheek, you flicked it away before Lydia could notice. The last thing she needed was you breaking down as well.

Siddiq went to say something else when Daryl entered the room, his eyes finding Lydia immediately.

“Hey,” he said softly, nodding to Siddiq who left the three of you alone. You and Daryl took a spot on either side of the teen, trying to get her to look at either of you. “I’m sorry this happened to you,” Daryl tried, but she was still quiet. “Lydia?”

“He was so sweaty,” Lydia whispered. “Never liked deodorant. Said it... it made his armpits itchy. So, I got used to it. Sometimes he smelled like garlic and onions.” Daryl looked at you in concern, but you just lightly shrugged. “I miss him,” she finished.

“Who?” you asked.

“My dad,” Lydia said as her voice cracked. “My dad would have protected me.” Your heart felt heavy at that statement and you couldn’t handle seeing her in pain.

“Tell me what happened,” Daryl said. Lydia finally looked up at him and with steel resolve, told the truth.

“Negan saved my life. I would be dead without him,” she said and then reached out and grabbed your hand, her grip like a vice. Lydia looked at you with tears rimming her eyes. “I’m sorry I went out without telling you,” she said, but you were already shaking your head.

“It’s not your fault, Lydia,” you told her, and then she was leaning into your arms, reaching for Daryl as she did so. You and Daryl held onto her as you both tried to wrap your head around what the hell you were going to do.

-----

“Yer stayin’ outside,” Daryl said as you began walking towards the cell.

“Daryl, come on,” you said in a hastened whisper, but he wasn’t up for negotiating. He stopped just before the cell and raised a finger to you.

“Outside,” he whispered so the current inmate couldn’t hear him. “Ya can listen all ya want, but I gotta hear his side without you there. Alright?” You knew he was right.

“Fine,” you responded and then Daryl was jogging down the steps and into the jail. You sat just outside, close enough to hear both of them. You were just hoping that Daryl was going to be able to keep his head.

“How’s the kid?” Negan asked as Daryl approached the bars.

“She’s banged up, but she’s gonna be alright. You know, the people out there are talkin' about puttin' you down, sayin' Rick ain't around to save you no more, maybe they should have done it a long time ago,” Daryl said and you had to fight to stay in your spot.

“If you came here looking for a confession... just keep walking,” Negan said and you could hear him sit up on the cot as the springs groaned. “It was an accident. And for the record, screw her. She was a goddamn asshole beating on a kid. World's better off. But you already know that, don't you?” he said and then sighed.

“You came down here to look me in the eye because you don't know what to do with me,” Negan continued. “Shit, all that time you spent fantasizing about my death, all that time you actually tried to kill me, and now look at you. You're not so sure.”

“Shut up,” you whispered under your breath. Antagonizing Daryl right now was not a smart play. Daryl, however, wasn’t in the mood to be screwed with.

“You listen to me real close. You and I ain't never been in a room before, not toe to toe. And there ain't nobody to save you right now,” Daryl threatened and Negan was silent for a moment before answering.

“Isn’t there?” Negan challenged. “Because from where I’m standing, Daryl. I don’t think your bestie would be too happy if I got the noose.”

“Don’t,” Daryl said.

“Don’t what? Tell the truth? Cause if I’m being damn honest and we both sure as shit know that I always am, (Y/N) seems to be the only thing keeping you from usin’ that fancy bow of yours on me. Isn’t that right?”

“I ain’t here to talk about them,” Daryl said.

“Good cause they got nothin’ to do with what happened tonight,” Negan said. “Hell, the only person that mattered was that scared girl.”

“Why help her? Why help Lydia? You ain’t no hero.”

"No, I'm not. I'm a sucker. See, I started believing in your way of life, your moral code. Hell, you even gave me a little taste of freedom, just so you could yank it away when I actually did the right thing. You gotta admit, that is pretty messed up. And we both know I appreciate some messed-up shit. So, now it’s up to you, what are you gonna do about it, Daryl?”

“You’re gonna get a chance to tell your side,” Daryl said as he walked from the room.

“Who’s the sucker now,” Negan said as he lay back down on the cot. Daryl locked up behind him and then he was pulling you up by your arm and dragging you away from the cell.

“Daryl,” you said, pulling away from him. He didn’t stop until he was far enough away from the cell.

“What’s his angle?” Daryl asked.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you asked, your brows raised. “He saves a goddamn kid and you think there’s an angle?”

“With him, there always is,” Daryl argued.

“Maybe with the old Negan, but what does he have to gain by doing it now?”

“You!” Daryl shot back.

“I’m already his, he has nothing to prove to me! Why don’t you get that?”

“I’m trying!” Daryl shouted back. You stopped and looked at him, really looked, and what you saw made you take a step back.

“You were never okay with any of this,” you realized. “All that bullshit in the barn was just that.”

“I just need time,” Daryl said. “You can’t expect me to be all goddamn accepting of you and him.”

“I never asked you to be accepting! As you said then, I’m a grown-ass adult, I don’t need my family’s permission. You told me to not keep any more fucking secrets from you and I haven’t. What else do you want me to do?” you were fuming as you yelled at him. Daryl just shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t know.” Scoffing, you turned to head towards the meeting hall.

“Well, let me know when you figure it out.”

-------

Nobody told you to leave as you sat in on the council meeting.

Regardless of your relationship with Negan, with Michonne away, you were now in charge of security and this did concern you. Gabriel was talking with Gage and Alfred as you leaned against the wall by the fire, trying to get a read on them.

“Lydia lured you there?” Gabriel asked.

“Yeah,” Gage said, nodding his head vigorously. “You saw what she did with the squirrel. She's psycho.” Confused, you glanced at Aaron who leaned back to whisper to you.

“Lydia brought a squirrel to lunch and ate it raw next to them,” Aaron whispered to you and you sighed deeply.

“Of course she did,” you swore, returning to your position.

“And Negan was with her,” Alfred added quickly. The problem was, you didn’t know if that part was a lie. You had no idea where Negan was before you found him protecting Lydia.

“If you thought Lydia was crazy, why'd you agree to meet her back there in the dark?” Gabriel inquired. Alfred stuttered, but Gage was ready with an answer. As always.

“Hey, we're the ones who were attacked here!” Gage shouted.

“But she's the one laying in the infirmary,”

“And our friend is in a grave.” You had heard enough and it seemed that Gabriel had as well. He dismissed them with a wave of his hand and they left quickly. As Gage left, he locked eyes with you and you stared him down. He practically sprinted after Alfred at your look.

Once it was just the leaders again, Aaron began. “I get why people might think Negan's been redeemed. I've... I've wondered it myself,” he said. “He saved my life when I was blinded. Whether that was for personal gain or not, he still did it.” Aaron then looked at you before continuing. “I’ve also seen... and heard things that have led me to believe he actually feels remorse for what he’s done.”

“We’re not here to look at his moral compass, Aaron,” Gabriel reminded him.

“Maybe we need to,” he argued. “However, with everything that he’s done, maybe something is broken in him.” You slumped into a seat across from the main table, rubbing at your temples.

“Yes, but killing him now over this undermines the civilization that we have built,” Siddiq added.

“This civilization was formed on blood, Siddiq,” Laura reminded him.

“That doesn’t mean it has to stay that way,” the doctor countered. “I know how we all feel about him and I do mean all of us,” Siddiq said, looking at you, “but that doesn’t mean we become executioners.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you added and Aaron knew you were talking about Gregory.

“That was different,” Gabriel said, knowing where your head was at as well.

“Not really,” you said.

“Look, the council wasn't made for this, deciding on a man's life in the dead of night because people are carrying pitchforks and torches,” Gabriel said, rubbing at his brow.

Suddenly, Daryl came into the room. He glanced at you quickly before turning his attention on the council.

"If you can't make a decision, the people out there are gonna make one for you,” he said and everyone knew he was right.

“What'd Michonne say?” Gabriel asked.

“She wants me to be her vote. Lydia said Negan saved her, so he saved her. I'm a ‘no’,” Daryl said and you weren’t even surprised that she relegated her vote to Daryl. You weren’t getting a vote this time when it came to Negan’s fate.

“So we're tied,” Aaron said. “Gabriel, where do you stand?”

Everyone looked to the Father who just stood from his seat. “I'm gonna take the night to clear my head and consider my vote,” Gabriel said, grabbing his hat. “I suggest you all do the same.”

As you got up to leave, Daryl got in your path.

“Move,” you said, not wanting to do this right now.

“I’m sorry,” he said, making you pause. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” you agreed. “I am not going to apologize for loving him, Daryl.”

“I know,” he said with a sigh. “I guess I hadn’t realized you were actually that serious about him.”

“I am,” you said, crossing your arms, “and I don’t have to justify my feelings to you or anyone.” Daryl nodded, dropping his head. You weren’t in the mood to play best friend right now. He didn’t need to be comforted after he had yelled at you in the street.

“Are we gonna be okay?” he asked, looking up at you through his hair.

“I’ll get over it,” you said.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said.

“I know,” you said and then changed the subject. “What did Michonne actually say?” Daryl sighed as he leaned against the main table.

“She thinks that Alpha won’t attack if we have Lydia with us,” he said. “She wants us to make sure that Lydia stays.”

“Great, more pressure to put on her,” you said.

“I don’t think that’s what Michonne meant,” Daryl said.

“Doesn’t matter. She’s been through enough already. We can’t put that on her now. Especially not after tonight.”

“I know,” he said. You were quiet for a moment before nodding and turning to leave. “(Y/N),” he said, stopping you, “you can’t go and see him.”

“Daryl...”

“This isn’t about what I think about him. When Gabe talks to him, he can’t have your opinions goin’ on inside his head. Just... just give ‘em the night.” You paused in the doorway and then turned back.

“Fine, but I’m not going far.”

-------

You had ended up sleeping at the Grimes house with Lydia by your side. She didn’t want to be too far from you or Daryl and so a compromise was made.

Waking up in the morning, the sun was streaming in through the windows of the house, illuminating the sleeping teen on the couch next to you. You hadn’t slept that well, worried about what Gabriel was going to decide.

While he and Negan had formed some sort of bond, Gabriel was always thinking about the bigger picture. You were only hoping that he was including Negan in all of that.

Just as you were about to wake Lydia, a loud banging echoed throughout the house. Lydia was startled awake as Daryl came walking into the room half-asleep.

Getting up, you joined him at the front door. “What?” Daryl growled as he pulled open the door to see a very distraught Gabriel.

“He’s gone,” Gabriel said trying to catch his breath. Gabriel then spotted you behind Daryl and he just shook his head. “Negan’s gone.”

“(Y/N),” Daryl said, looking back at you, but his words weren’t resonating. Nothing was. “(Y/N)!” Finally looking at him, you just began shaking your head.

“No,” you gasped. “He’s not, he wouldn’t...”

“The keys were stolen,” Gabriel said. “Someone let him out and based on the look on your face, it wasn’t you.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” Daryl said as he moved forward to grab you by the shoulders. “Look at me,” he said.

“I... I can’t,” you said and then he was pulling you into his arms, trying to keep you on your feet. “Not again.”

TAGS: @lucillethings @cameronsails @stark-dreams @amaroho @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner @boom-bunny @delusionalteenagewhispers @scootankle @ritajammer21 @writteriguess @tea-atfive @jennydehavilland @waspyyy @yespleasejayhalstead @hoemadegrace @writingdeadangel @huffledor-able541 @pulplorrd @felicisimor

#The walking dead #twd imagines #negan imagines #the savior sessions #walkerwords #negan x reader #negan x you #negan x gn reader #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #negan #daryl dixon

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thebmatt · 3 years ago

Text

FFXIV Write 2021 Prompt #30: Abstracted

Abstracted – to have considered (something) theoretically or separately from something else.

I don’t like how I ended this one, but I was trying to wrap it up after midnight, so it’s a bit abrupt. I’ll likely work on it a bit more before I publish it in AO3 later.

“So those crystals, Aetherytes , you said? They allow you to teleport to any that you’ve previously attuned your aether to?”

Aleister Franks nodded. “Indeed. So long as your body has sufficient reserves of aether, of course. Tends to depend on how hearty you are, physically speaking, so adventurers and military folk may the most use of em.”

Gwenefyr Franks stared at the aetheryte. “Well…that’s pretty amazing. Something like this would have seriously cut into all those tips I made making portals back home.”

He laughed. “That it would. All right, now that you’re all attuned yourself, next stop on the tour, or perhaps the last stop, is right over there!”

Gwenefyr grabbed his hand and together, the pair walked eastward.

“Welcome to Bulwark Hall, the heart of the Mizzenmast, love. Originally built as a stronghold to protect the rest of the city from invasion. Elevators over there…” he pointed to the right of the central column of rock occupying the chamber “…will take us back up to the Drowning Wench once we’re done here, and further up to the airship landing we’ll be seeing tomorrow morning on our journey to the rest of the city-states. ” He pointed to the left. “Over there, that’s a direct lift to the Bridge, offices of Admiral Merlwyb and the rest of Limsa Lominsa’s governing officials. And sadly, much as I’d love to introduce you to the Admiral, the man guarding the lift there, his name’s Zanthael, and he’s a real stick-in-the-arse for only letting people with pressing official business in!”

Zanthael looked over to the couple, smiled, and tossed up a rude hand gesture.

Gwenefyr looked back to the doors to their right and left, both slightly behind them. “And what’re those doors for?”

“Um….storage I think? I’ve never been in, they’re always barred shut. Never even seen anyone guarding them, to be honest.”

“Then why is there a man waving at us from that one?“

Aleister looked to her, then followed her gaze to the door on their right, across from the Crow’s Lift. Sure enough, there was a roegadyn man there, clad in a Maelstrom soldier’s uniform. He was waving at the pair, and upon seeing he had both of their attention, gestured for them to follow. He then stepped inside the pair of doors and left one slightly ajar.

Gwen looked at her husband. “Do you know him?”

He shook his head. “No, but there’s a lot of people in the Maelstrom. Can’t imagine what he wants to talk about, though. Still, guess we’d better go see.”

“Lead the way, husband mine.”

The pair walked over and Aleister opened the door to let Gwen go through first, but as soon as it was ajar enough, the pair were both pulled into a shimmering blue portal by an unseen force. Their vision went white.

A few seconds later, both of them were able to open their eyes only to see that they were surrounded by what was definitely not the rock of the Mizzenmast, but instead a large chamber enclosed by what looked like ship bulkheads made of metal. Various technological devices, things that reminded Aleister of Allagan consoles and holographic displays were mounted all along every wall.

“Uh…where the hell are we?” Gwenefyr asked, sounding very concerned.

“I uh….I really don’t know, but unless the Admiral’s been keeping a secret treasure trove of Allagan technology concealed, I somehow doubt we’re in Limsa anymore.”

“We got pulled in, too. Just like I did when I found the portal that brought me here. Do you think that…”

He nodded. “It’s a logical conclusion. Let’s see if we can figure out where we are.”

“Or you could just ask”

Gwen and Aleister jumped, then quickly scanned the room. The voice had come from somewhere, but neither could immediately identify the source.

“Oops. Sorry for startling you. I’m actually not in there, though. I’m further in the….well, ship is probably the best way to describe this. I’m transmitting my voice from the bridge to you via a speaker. But enough about that. I suspect you want to know who I am and why I’ve brought you here, right?”

The pair looked at each other, then Aleister replied. “That would be correct. Assuming you don’t mean to do us harm.”

“Oh, no, not at all. But come, I’ll explain everything once we’re face to face. You should see some green lights on the floor, just follow them, it’ll take you on the most direct path here.”

Sure enough, a series of green lights illuminated the floor in an arrow pattern, which pointed to a section of the wall that slid down into the floor, revealing a hallway big enough for the pair to comfortably walk side by side. More green lighting illuminated the space within.

“You think this is on the level?” Gwen asked.

“I….think so. Whoever this is, this ‘ship’ of theres is packed full of technology more advanced than anything I’ve seen, now that I look more closely. This looks very different than anything I’ve ever seen from Allagan sites, and….I can’t explain it, but it just feels more powerful. Whoever this is, I think if they wanted us harmed, we’d never likely know it was coming. I suppose all we can do now is investigate.”

Gwen didn’t look entirely convinced, but nodded and grabbed his hand again.

The pair ventured down the hallway. As they continued to walk, more lights further up the path illuminated. Aleister noted that there were no other spaces in the floor for lights, nor did they have any kind of a path built into the deck that led any of the other doorways he noted as they walked.

He was intently studying them for the few minutes they’d been walking when Gwen held him fast. He stopped and looked to her, but she pointed ahead. He saw a shimmering transluscent field was obstructing the path, generated by some sort of emitters lining the walls and ceiling.

“Oh right. Hold on a second, lemme disable that. That’s one of the ship’s reality reset fields. You pass through that and….well, it’ll essentially reset your form to, ah, what it used to look like. Pretty sure you guys don’t want that, and I don’t want to do it to you.“

The field shimmered and then faded out of existence. The emitters retreated inside the wall, a series of flaps closing over them.

They continued along the illuminated path until it came to a doorway. The lights ran up the wall and illuminated the shape of a pointing hand that indicated the closed door. The door opened to reveal a large dome shaped room, dominated by a massive viewport that covered fully half of the dome, outside of which they could see an entire world just hanging in the blackness. Parked in the middle of the room were a series of those strange advanced consoles arranged in an arch around a single utilitarian chair seemingly bolted to the floor and facing away from the pair.

Aleister was dumbfounded by the sheer spectacle, but Gwenefyr found her voice. “This is….incredible. What is this??”

The chair spun to reveal a man sitting in it. He was a hyur, or at least resembled one. He looked somewhat stocky, wearing dark blue pants of what looked like a utilitarian fabric, made as a mix of durable and comfortable, and a red shirt with an image in white lines that neither of them recognized. His short hair and longer beard were both dark in color, but going grey at the edges. Excitement could be seen behind his black-rimmed spectacles as he stood to greet them. “Hey, hey, there they are! Been looking forward to meeting you two for quite some time!”

He extended a hand, and both of them tenatively shook it.

“Who…who are you? What even is this place?” Aleister asked, still not quite able to stop himself from looking around.

“Hah, right on to business I see. Well, can’t say I blame you, this is probably a lot to take in. Well, let me start. My name is Brandon. As to what this place is, we’ll get to that. And as to why I extended this invitation to you? Well, that’s a real long story, but it starts with me telling you this: Like you, I’m not from this, ah…what’s the term you guys use here…Star, that’s it! Not from this star.”

That got their attention. Both turned to look at him immediately. “Are you…are you an explorer of some kind?” Aleister asked, a mixture of awe and a little hope in his voice.”

Brandon shook his head. “Not exactly, no. But, perhaps I should start at the beginning.” He gestured to the massive viewport, at the round image that dominated it. “You recognize this, I take it?”

“That…that’s Hydaelyn, isn’t it? From far away, as if viewed in the firmament of the night sky” Aleister replied.

Brandon nodded. “Very good. And this?” He reached outword, hands splayed open. Small blue cubes of light appeared around his fingertips and be brought them closer together in front of him. As he did, the image in the viewport changed. Hydaelyn shrank and other spheres appeared, smaller copies forming a circle of which Hydaelyn was a part, but with gaps in multiple places.

“Wait, I recognize that pattern from one of the texts Urianger gave me! Is that supposed to be…the shards?” Gwenefyr asked.

“Indeed! But now comes the kicker.” Brandon brought his hands even closer, and the viewport shifted again. The circle of worlds shrank and moved to a side and a whole host of other illuminated spheres, each with is own ring of smaller spheres forming their own circles, appeared.

Franks just stared, mouth agape. There had to be well over a hundred of the circles. “What….what are those?”

Brandon smiled. “That, my friend, are other Hydaelyns.”

Gwenefyr gasped as Franks whirled to face him. “You…you did it! You figured out how to do it? What’s the secret, what have I been missing?”

Brandon’s expression shifted into a frown. “We’ll….get there. Still a lot I need to show you. But first…” He brought his hands together fully.

The viewport shifted again. All of the Hydaelyns shrank further, displaying as a wedge, barriered by a line of light, and adjacent to it…were even more worlds, each marked by a barrier of their own, arranged next to each other as though they were part of a large wheel that only a small section of could be seen.

Brandon raised his left hand, only two fingers extended, and made a swiping motion to the right. The display of the wheel shifted, the wedge of Hydaelyns moving to the right and a new wedge with its own series of white lights. An electronic chimed intoned and text appeared on the viewscreen below the wedge.

“Azeroth” Gwenefyr intoned, somewhat breathlessly.

Brandon nodded. “Inside there is your original home….along with with thirty-seven different versions of the universe of Azeroth. Each unique and distinct from each other in a myriad of ways”

“And that, my friends, is the tip of the iceberg of what we like to call the multiverse. A grouping of universes, mostly alike in structure and history, with different versions of a vast majority of the same people found on all of them, but each with certain ‘key differences’ that make them unique. Divergent points in history, different people in key positions of influence or power, things like that. All of them represented by a single one of these wedges. Swipe to another wedge, and you have a set of completely different universes with a different set of rules, history, people, entirely unrelated to anything in another wedge, with their own different universes with ‘key differences’, and yes thats a technical term by the way.”

He extended his hand again and continued swiping. That same chime played with each swipe, and another wedge moved to the center, text appearing that neither of the visitors managed to retain.

“Just to give you an idea of how many of these ‘universal clusters’ there are, I could sit here and swipe once every second, and it would be twelve hours before I even got halfway.”

Aleister turned back to him “I have so many questions…”

Brandon held up a hand to stop him. “I know. But first, you need to understand who I am, or more accurately, who I represent.

“Uncountable eons ago, there was a race of beings, the original name of which has long been lost, who were incredibly technologically advanced. They discovered the existence of other universes and before long, developed a way to generate gateways that crossed the metaphysical barrier that lie between them all. They found a universe similar to their own, but with seemingly small but impactful differences between them. But like them, their neighbors were peaceful, dedicated to knowledge and cooperation for the good of all, and so they established diplomatic relations with each other, working together to benefit both of their peoples.”

“This cooperation proved boonful, and so they did it again and again. A central citadel, home of a dozen different gateways to differing versions of their universe, was established over time, allowing the best minds to collaborate with each other and advance their civilizations together, for the good of all. The completion of a new gateway became a cultural holiday known as ‘Opening Day’, People from all over the varying universes would get together with their own counterparts and celebrate.”

“Unfortunately, they made an assumption. Every universe they’d traveled to, while having some cultural or political differences to overcome, ultimately was not terribly different. Their race was still the dominant one of the world, and they ultimately wanted the same thing, to be brought forward into their shared age of enlightenment and reason.”

“The very last gateway they ever opened was to a universe dominated by a predatory insectoid species that every other universe had destroyed early in their recorded histories. In this universe, however, the insectoids had won. And over time, they’d evolved into a vicious hiveminded swarm that had consumed nearly all other forms of life on their world. And they….were hungry”

Brandon’s face grew somber. “What followed, as you can imagine, was a cataclysm. The insectoids poured through the gateway in uncountable numbers, consuming all in their path. And since all the other gateways were centralized in the same spire, they soon expanded into every other universe. growing in vast numbers as they consumed more and more biomass. The race had no weapons to stop them, they had evolved past a need for them, and so they stood no chance against the insectoid’s single unified mind driving their massive vicious forms.”

“It took only a few months before the race was all but extinct. The insectoids had utterly consumed their entire civilization and culture. I say ‘all but’ because some two dozen did survive, boarding a small number of experimental craft meant to traverse the inter-universal space that separated them. What they found was that there were no other universes belonging to their people. They were all that remained. But as they explored the rift between worlds in their ships, they found others. Nothing like them, but full of live and people of varying kinds. But they also found others where forces of destructive power reigned as well, forces that would consume other universes if they were to learn of them”

“They vowed that they would never let the mistake they’d made happen again. The multiverse was glorious, yes, but also fragile. It needed to be kept safe from itself. And so they would become its Sentinels, watchful protectors and guardians.”

Brandon looked between them both. “And that’s who I work for. The Sentinels. They employ agents from across the multiverse to keep a close eye on individual sectors, a small group of universal clusters. I have the responsibility of keeping watch over the myriad versions of both Hydaelyn and Azeroth, among others. And that’s why we’re speaking today.”

Brandon brought up the images of the Hydaelyn wedge on the monitor. “Now, for nearly everyone, travel between universes is simply impossible. They can’t even fathom that it exists. There are powerful entities in some that might have the capability to tunnel through the inter-universal rift, but again, our best advantage is that they simply don’t know it exists. We keep a close eye on these entities, but most of the cross-universe incursions we have to deal with happen spontaneously and on small scales. Small portals between universes will spontaneously manifest, and sometimes living creatures will get caught up in them. WHen they’re dangerous, we intervene. Agents, like myself, are empowered to recruit beings from these universes to travel to a universe that something hazardous from their own has appeared in, and deal with the problem. They go home, we agents come in and wipe the memories of anyone who saw anything, and life goes on for everyone. These assets then go on with their own pursuits until such time as they are needed again, if ever. They are sworn to secrecy about the multiverse’s existence, but otherwise we ask no other obligations of them.”

“However, your case was a different one, Aleister. In your case, you not only didn’t threaten the universe you ended up in, you ended up actively working towards ending the threat of that universes versions of the Ascians, who as you might imagine are on our “shitlist” of potential problem entities. I decided to watch and see what you did, and you did not disappoint. You kept your origins secret, for the most part, and made yourself an even bigger threat to them. Normally, a cross universe incursion signals us to destroy a spontaneously generated portal, we keep them open for study until that happens, but yours we left open as a result of your choices.”

He looked over to Gwenefyr. “What I absolutely did not expect was that, in her tenacity to be reunited with you, your lady love would also find that portal and go through herself. And while I am a romantic at heart who is thrilled to see you reunited and happy, unfortunately, you’ve told your story to an increasing number of people on your Hydaelyn, which has forced me to act.

Aleister tensed. “Act? To what end?”

“As I said, secrecy is our prime directive. The more people know, the more danger the multiverse is in. You’ve not only told a fair number of people in your version of Hydaelyn, but thanks to the portal’s presence, your version of the Exarch managed to summon heroes to help you from other universes. In every other universe, he summoned people from that universe’s shards. Not in yours. The same thing happened when Rheika used Azem’s crystal against Elidibus. She brought allies from yet another universe. And in both of those instances, those Warriors of Light became aware of the multiverse, opening more avenues for the knowledge to spread. We cannot have that.”

Franks threw up his hands in frustration. “But look at the good we did! The final two unsundered Ascians, defeated! Who knows what other good we could accomplish if the Warriors of Light from all of the Hydaelyns came together? How many more universes could we save from their Ascians, and how quickly?”

Brandon pointed a finger at him. “And this is why I had to sabotage your experiments, you don’t comprehend the consequences of what you are doing. You forget the lesson of the Sentinel’s origins, already! If we do that, then everyone learns of the multiverse very quickly, and then they’ll start trying to enter it on their own. Look at this!”

WIth a series of gestures, Brandon brought a small number of differing Hydaelyn-and-Shards rings into view. He pointed to one of them. “That one? That’s your adopted home. Hydaelyn-83, by our numbering.” He pointed to the closest one. “This one is Hydaelyn-82, your ‘neighbor’ metaphysically speaking.” Four figures appeared on the viewport. “Recognize anyone?”

Aleister looked at the figures. One was a dark-haired midlander woman, another was a dark-skinned rava viera. He recognized neither of them, but the last two, a red-skinned xaela woman and a dark-skinned elezen with purple and red hair, he did remember. “Yes, those two. That’s Toragana and Veilette, they helped us defeat Hades!”

Brandon nodded. “Just so. On their world, these four are the Warriors of Light. Unlike you and yours, however, they allowed themselves to be almost wholly defined by the traumas of their past and elected to use their power to ensure that none would ever control them again. They would utterly destroy any who crossed them, in the name of dispensing justice, including Gaius van Baelsar, who did not escape the Praetorium alive as he did in your world. Their relationships with the Scions and the leaders of the city-states was extremely strained, but it was Gaius’ own death that proved to be their undoing. Without him, Valens van Varro’s WEAPON project went unopposed in secret, and he unleashed them in a devastating attack on Limsa Lominsa, utterly destroying the city and killing three of the four Warriors of Light.”

Toragana and the two unknown women disappeared from the viewport.

“With her sisters dead, Veilette went into hiding with what few followers she had. Though she had killed the Unsundered, no one was able to stop Fandaniel’s plans from moving forward. Now this Hydaelyn is a ravaged battlefield between Lunar Primals and Garlean warmachina, with the rest of the world caught in the middle, hiding in what few pockets of safety remain. Would you go to that world and potentially expose yours to that danger?”

Brandon pointed to another cluster. “Or perhaps this one? Hydaelyn-72. On this one, the Ascians miscalculated. They rejoined the First with the source, empowering the Black Rose gas with all of that Light aether from the First, but it was more potent than they imagined. The gas was extremely virulent, sweeping throughout the entire world, turning everything it touched into Sin Eaters. Now that Hydaelyn is a death world, a barren wasteland roamed by beasts of light and choked by toxic air, while the Ascians wonder how to salvage their grand plan. Would you see someone inadvertently open a portal to that universe and see that toxic air claim another entire star?”

Both Franks looked on in horror. Aleister spoke. “I….I see your point. But could the Sentinels not stop such things?”

Brandon laughed. “We don’t have the numbers or the tech to stop entire armies in a fight or to contain a virulent toxic gas from spreading. There’s a reason we try to keep universes contained, and that’s because if we don’t, once it progresses past a certain point, we don’t have a way to stop it. And so we work from the shadows, clipping small problems before they get big and erasing memories so no one remembers any of it that we don’t want to.”

Franks clasped his hands in front of his face, as Gwen placed a hand on his shoulder. “So, you said you had to act because I came here. What happens now?”

Brandon crossed his arms, his expression softening. “Well, per our protocol, I’ve got two choices for you. Choice one, I wipe both of your memories of all of your time on Hydaelyn-83, return you to your Azeroth, and wipe everyone’s memory of ever having met you. I don’t want to do that one, I really don’t. You’ve proven a net benefit to 83, you really have, but I have to contain this. So there’s my second option, you two, along with everyone else in the Scions that you’ve told, officially sign up as assets for us. If something from a Hydaelyn threatens people in another universe, I ask you to help me deal with it, you do so. I should stress that this is not a common occurrence and when it does happen, it’s even more rare that it’s a really difficult threat. Otherwise you live your lives with the knowledge you have of the multiverse with no other interference, from us at least, so long as you don’t spread what you know. Just know that if you take that option, the portal closes too. You never can go back to your original universe.”

Anger emerged on Gwen’s face. “You can’t possibly expect us to make that decision on our own. We have to talk to them, let them decide for themselves! They need to know what we’re asking of them!”

Brandon smiled. “Already did that. Told them all everything I told you yesterday. Every single one agreed to sign up and keep what they know secret, but only if you chose to stay. They didn’t want you to not have the choice to ‘go home’ as Dahkar put it.”

Aleister looked over at Gwen, who nodded to him. “It’s not our home anymore, we already came to terms with that. If our friends agreed to this, then it’s pretty clear how much they’re willing to do to let us stay, So, we accept.”

Brandon clapped his hands. “Great! I’ll take care of everything else. Just remember, absolutely no sharing this knowledge with anyone else, and no more cross-universe gateway experiments on your own, okay? Awesome. You guys can head out through that door, it’ll take you back where you came in. And don’t worry about being seen, I put up a small field around that doorway that basically makes people suddenly remember far more important things whenever they look at it. No one should bat an eye at you.” He gestured to a newly opened door that Aleister was fairly confident was not there before.

He extended a hand to Gwen, who took it. The pair smiled at each other and walked out of the ship, not looking back.

They emerged from the same doors they’d entered in Bulwark Hall. As Brandon had promised, no one even looked twice at them.

Aleister sighed. “Well, that was….a thing. I guess we better get back to the Rising Stones and tell the other Scions what happened here.”

Gwen nodded. “You think we made the right choice? I mean, I know we committed to this already, but this…it’s kinda final.”

Aleister smiled warmly at her. “Now that you’re here and staying with me? Yes, yes I do.”

“Then let’s head home, my love.”

“All right! Ready for your first aetheryte teleport?”

Gwen smirked and began casting the magick, rising into the air as she did. Franks smiled, and followed suit.

The pair winked out of existence, heading towards their future.

#FFXIV 2021 Writing Challenge #Final Fantasy XIV #oldmanfranks #Aleister Franks #Gwenefyr Franks #multiverse

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naralanis · 4 years ago

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hey nara! first off, I absolutely adore your blog and your writing, Perhaps is on my comfort fics list that I pull out whenever I’m having a bad time. I also happen to be a fan of your pen instagram and I was wondering if you had any suggestions on some fountain pens for beginners? I recently bought a “Pilot MR Retro Pop” that I really enjoy but I think I’m ready to branch off a bit. Do you have any tips with practicing with fountain pens you’d be willing to share? As much as I try, my handwriting never looks as nice as I want it to with mine. No pressure to respond if not, just wanted to stop by and let you know how much I enjoy your content! Hope you have a pleasant rest of your day/night!

Oh goodness, you’re talking about fic AND fountain pens in the same ask? Stop, stop, I’m already married!

First off, thanks for reading; I’m so glad Perhaps is there for you when ya need it, it makes me really happy to hear. Seriously warms my heart!

As far as fountain pens go... ANON I HAVE SO MANY THINGS TO TALK ABOUT I AM SO SORRY THIS WILL BE SUCH A LONG RIDE so I’m going to put it under the cut sorry sorry sorry in this essay I will

Hooray for the Pilot MR (or Metro, here in the US), it’s an AMAZING little pen, and if you’re calling it the MR, chances are you got it with an international standard converter, you lucky, lucky duck. I’m happy you’re enjoying it, as far as beginner pens go, this one is an excellent choice.

When you say “branching out”, this can mean one of two things. It can mean you want to branch out to other brands but a similar price range, or that you’re ready for a ‘next level’ pen. I’ll try to cover both! (I’ll link some of these models to the Goulet Pens website, but feel free to look for them elsewhere--I just really like Goulet’s very thorough descriptions)

If you’re looking to explore other pen models in the MR’s price range, there’s a metric ton of options! Sticking with Pilot, you can try the Explorer-- a completely different, more streamlined pen than the MR, but if you’re used to the nib on your pen, you have a better idea of what to expect with it. There’s also the Kakuno, which is cheaper, but very cute with its little smiley face nibs haha

Another Japanese pen you can try: the Platinum Plaisir. Aluminum body, but do remember that Platinum nibs generally give a little more feedback than Pilot’s, which are some of the smoothest Japanese-made nibs I’ve ever seen.

You can also try the Diplomat Magnum -- it’s a a great little pen, and I love mine. Keep in mind, it is very lightweight, especially compared to the MR’s metal body, but to me that makes it great for long writing sessions. The nib is completely different--it will write a little wider, a little wetter than the MR (and any other Japanese-made pen), but it’s slightly springy and awesome to write with. Plus, it has an ink window so you can keep track of your ink!

Other options in this price range: the Jinhao 8802 (Shell or Rosewood, and the most bang for your buck imo as far as cheap fountain pens go), the Jinhao x750 or x450 (these are heavier, but they look great!), the TWISBI GO (a teeny, amazing little pen with a spring-loaded piston filling mechanism), and a Kaweco Sport (another pocket-pen, German-made, so the nib will write a little wetter/wider generally) or the Perkeo.

Now, if you’d like to push your price range a little further (only a little! I promise not to break the bank!), you cannot go wrong with Lamy.I am a self-admitted Lamy fangirl, so I may be a little biased, buuuut... it is what it is, their pens are great, they’re easy to disassemble for cleaning (I go totally nuts over it and even disassemble the converters, which you absolutely don’t need to do), and their nibs are SO EASILY INTERCHANGEABLE!

You can pick up a Lamy Safari for fairly cheap nowadays (and ever cheaper look-alikes, which I will never endorse but also will not judge anyone for buying), and they come in so many colours (the O.G. 1980 colours were also just reissued!), they’re like my Pokemon because I want to catch ‘em all.

For a little more, you can get yourself a Lamy AL-Star--the same design of the Safari, but this time in aluminum, which makes it look super cool (but also prone to scratches if you’re the kind of person that puts your pen in your pocket with your keys... that’s... definitely not me...), so keep that in mind.

You can also pick yourself up a Lamy Logo, for a couple more bucks. A completely different design, but still great, particularly if you like slimmer pens.

The nibs on ALL the Lamy models (even the more expensive ones like the Studio or the Scala or even the Dialog) are interchangeable! Even the gold nib on the Dialog! The only exception is the Lamy 2000 (which is probably one of the best pens out there period, and certainly an amazing first-gold-nib pen).

The one thing that absolutely kills me about the cheaper Lamy pens is that, for the most part, none of them come with a converter--you have to buy it separately. Which is fine, it’s not super expensive, and it is widely available, but COME ON, LAMY, JUST GIMME.

If you’d like to try a cool-looking pen with a CRAZY ink capacity and a nifty piston-filling mechanism, look no further than the TWISBI ECO. I have one of these (green, obv), and I love it. Never tires me out, and I stg mine never. dries. out. I don’t know what witchcraft is involved, but it’s an amazing pen for long writing sessions.

Finally, if you’d like to try another Japanese-made pen that is a little more expensive than the Pilot MR or the Platinum Plaisir, there’s the Sailor Compass 1911. This is one of the cheapest Sailor pens I know of, and a good introduction to the brand. Keep in mind that, like Platinum, Sailor nibs will give more feedback than the Pilot you’re used to!

If you would like to push your budget even further, here are some options for fountain pens under $100 (I know, big jump, but it’s good to see what’s out there to you can compare!) from JetPens.

There are a million other brands out there that you can look at. Sheaffer makes great, very cheap and fun beginner pens (including a whole Star Wars Line! They’re adorable!). Hong Dian has a ton of pens that look sleek as hell (like the Forest Series) and they’re all like under 20 bucks. Kaco is another one that makes surprisingly good pens! Parker is also an option, with the Jotter, which is a classic-looking pen. There’s Conklin and Monteverde (which have a ton of fountain pens in a wide range of prices, but I’ve had bad luck with their nibs, so I would suggest you do some independent research on those!), as well as Noodler’s if you’d like to go crazy with some flex nibs! The fountain pen rabbit hole is bottomless. Welcome :D

As far as handwriting goes, I’m afraid I don’t have much more to say besides practice, practice, practice. I learned cursive as a child, but never got into calligraphy, really. Even today, I only just dabble, but whenever I see something I like, I usually just like to try and replicate it. Very often I’ll see a video on Instagram and go Oh my god, how the hell did they write that G, I’ve got to try that and then what follows is me going through page after page on a Rhodia pad trying to imitate them. I like janinescribbles and aidanbernal on Instagram, they’re like handwriting goals--check them out!

A lot of the time, we’re looking for more line variation to make our handwriting look prettier--that’s usually what you see in that fancy, old-timey Spencerian cursive, or even copperplate calligraphy. Unfortunately, you won’t get that with just a regular fountain pen, but there is good news!

There are a TON of different nibs out there. Stub nibs, fude nibs, flex nibs, obliques, cursive italic -- you can even get your pen ground by a professional nibmeister to fit your specifications. There are calligraphy pens (like the Lamy Joy) or pen sets (Kaweco has a Perkeo Calligraphy set, and I believe Sailor has one of their own as well). You can even check out the Pilot Parallel set -- the whole thing is like the price of a Lamy AL-Star, you just won’t do regular writing with it; it’s pretty specifically a calligraphy/lettering set. There are even flex pens in the market (though none of them are as flexy as those old, vintage gold nibs) like the Noodler’s Nib Creaper, Ahab, and Triple Tail or the Conklins with their Omniflex nib (which has been problematic in the past, but I’ve heard good things recently). It’s a whole other rabbit hole!

But honestly, don’t sweat the handwriting too much. Just write a few lines every day, try new things, and get lost for eternity on some Instagram tags!

I think this is a long enough post as it is, so I’ll stop there! SORRY. HOPE IT HELPS!

#ask naralanis and maybe she will deign to respond #anon #fountain pens #fountain pen network #fountain pen geeks #fic writing #cissamione #and all the weird things that overlap in this godforsaken blog

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wendimydarling · 5 years ago

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Heyaaaa! I've been thinking... can we have a headcanon on Henry and his characters would react or do when tickled? It can be by their s.o. or anyone, really. Thank you!!!

YES. YES YES YES. The fact that I get to think about and talk about my tickle kink in regards to these characters makes me SUPER happy. And you’re my favorite. ❤

A tiny bit of tickle knowledge: in the community, there are Ticklers (Lers), and Ticklees (Lees), and Switches. Lers generally prefer to do the tickling, while Lees enjoy being tickled, while Switches are some combination of both (I am a Switch, 95% HARDCORE Lee with the occasional Ler mood, in case you were wondering). I will be using these terms in this headcanon. Here we gooooooo!

We’ll start with Henry. That boy is indeed ticklish, and like to think it’s on his ribs. It’s a small gif, but look closely:

Did you see it? There is a very subtle shift AWAY from Jason and a smile when he first grabs Henry before Henry realizes that he just wanted a hug. I’d recognize that shift anywhere, it’s tickle panic. And I want to explore it.

Stephen is ticklish around his neck and his ears. He doesn’t like it, and Cassandra knows this, and has exploited it their entire lives when she wants something or he annoys her.

Mikey is a sub, so I think he’s a Switch like me, mostly Lee. You can tie him and tickle him all over, make it a game; he’ll hate it and love it at once. I think his worst place is his feet, but he’s ticklish everywhere. He also like to tickle as a flirting technique, it’s an easy way to get physically close to someone.

I don’t think Melot is ticklish. I don’t see him that way. I do see him using tickling to flirt, or being into erotic tickles like teasing a girl’s nipples with his tongue, but only if the occasion presents itself.

Those pits.... god, those pits. Let me at ‘em, Evan Marshall, let’s see how long you can keep those arms up. Might just get your sides, too.

Charles Brandon is a Switch, aaaaaaalll about the erotic tickles. He likes to use all sorts of instruments to torture your nipples and pussy, like feathers and paintbrushes. His favorite tool of choice? His tongue. But since he’s a switch, so you better take a feather to his balls on occasion.

I dunno if Clark is ticklish or not. Those sides look potentially ticklish to me, or perhaps his feet or his knees. He’s definitely playful when he’s with his girl, so he would tickle her for sure.

Napoleon is a LER. He is ticklish himself, but you’ll never, ever know where, because he will always have you tied up first. The less you can move, the better, and he will take his time and learn every single place on your helpless body that makes you scream the most.

Syverson is absolutely ticklish, but he HATES it. You’ll get one warning: “Best not start somethin’ ya can’t finish, little lady”. If you continue, he will pin you down and wreck you until you apologize for ever poking him in the ribs.

This man gets two gifs, because his face is too beautiful not to show, however you can’t see it when you tickle him. August Walker has a ticklish ass. You will never, ever change my mind. The only person who’s even remotely allowed to tickle it is his lady, and that’s only ever on extremely rare occasions. He, like Syverson, will utterly destroy you if you tickle him without permission.

Walter is ticklish on his hips and his back. He’ll fight you if you’re drilling into his hips, but he actually immensely enjoys light tickles on his back, especially after sex. Run you fingers up and down his spine or trail light kisses over his shoulder blades, making sure your breasts graze his skin. He’ll squirm and smile softly, before falling into a deep and relaxed sleep.

Being a Witcher, Geralt has heightened sensitivity, so naturally he is ticklish. I like to think that at Kaer Morhen during their training, Witchers are taught to resist this weak side effect by having it tickle tortured out of them, so he utterly hates it when Yen does it. He can ignore it from everyone else, but she cheats and uses her magic against him until he’s growling at her to stop.

THANK YOU FOR THIS, LADY.... you literally made my morning!!!

#henry cavill #henry cavill's characters #where are they ticklish?#tickle #tickling #ticklish #tickle tickle #tickle community #lers #lees #what do you think

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degenerate-perturbation · 6 years ago

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Ultimate Good Omens Fic Recommendations

I read the entire AO3 archive. I started sometime in November 2018 and read all the way back to 1999. I did not read every story, but I tried. Here are my recommendations.

(Most Good Omens fic is very good, which is why I bothered to read the entire archive instead of just scrolling through the first few pages, despairing, and giving up, which is what I usually do when I read fanfiction. So if your fic is not here, congratulations! I probably still read it and liked it but this post is already very long.)

My Absolute Top Favorites

Deus Ex Machina by clockwork_spider - Angels really aren't the most sentimental bunch, so when Crowley was escorted back to Hell, Aziraphale's initial reaction was to do nothing. But let it be known that God moves in ineffable ways.

Tryst On a Hot Church Roof by Macdicilla - Crowley has some fantasies. Aziraphale encourages him to explore them and not to be embarrassed. Neither of them can really take roleplay seriously but they still have a good time.

Re-Recalled by Jennistar - Halfway through an argument, Aziraphale gets accidentally discorporated and doesn't come back. Crowley does the sensible thing and panics.

The love that dare not speak its name by Lunasong365, sous_le_saule - London, late nineteenth century. Aziraphale finds that time moves slowly while waiting for Crowley to wake up. Meeting Oscar Wilde should break the monotony. But perhaps it will bring more of a change than the angel anticipated…

Safe Haven by JAMoczo - A remix of Prodigal Son: January 1945; Aziraphale has a crisis of Faith.

(The rest below the cut, in convenient categories)

General

Five Things That Never Happened To Aziraphale by imperfectcircle - Five things.

Down to the Earth with Violence by Daegaer - Crowley and Aziraphale meet after the end of the world.

Coming to an Arrangement by Daegaer - The long, slow path to the Arrangement.

Act of Redemption by copperbadge - After the world failed to end, Crowley got depressed.

Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot by xylodemon - In which Crowley starts over. Again, and again, and again.

A Few Conversations, Which are Mostly Related to Christmas by xylodemon - In which there is cocoa, conversation, and more Christmas cheer than Crowley think is strictly necessary.

The Ghost and A. J. Crowley by Argyle - A heartwarming tale of grisly ghost plants and fearsome floral apparitions. Has Crowley finally met his match? Will Aziraphale come to the rescue? And just how difficult is it to remove dirt stains from white carpet?

Five Meetings (Steps in the Fall and Rise to Grace) by icarus_chained - GO Noir AU. Bad things are brewing in the City of Angels, and one tired ex-cop is stuck in the middle of it.

How to Make Friends and Influence Flora aka Radio Four Never Mentioned This by WinterEyes - The Fear of Crowley isn't all it's cracked up to be

Suntne Angeli? by Macdicilla - Adam answers the question of whether angels need to eat and drink, and accidentally creates a major change in the (pants) fabric of reality.

Field Agents by Lunasong365, sous_le_saule - How did ‘Human’ Resources (both Demonic and Angelic) recruit Crawly and Aziraphale to be field agents? Is it a coincidence that they both found themselves back on Earth after leaving the Garden of Eden?

The Devil Went Down to Georgia by ImprobableDreams900 - Now Crowley went down to Georgia, he was looking for a soul to steal, cause he was in a bind and way behind and he was willing to make a deal.

Major Failings by irisbleufic - It was quick and messy, the sort of thing that took you off-guard no matter how many beheadings, torture stints, and vivisections you'd seen otherwise. Actually, Crowley wasn't certain how many of any of those he'd actually seen. He tended to lower his eyes or look away at the last second. This was also a major failing in a demon.

Pre-Relationship

Gavotte by bunnyfication - Crowley sleeps a decade or a few, and suddenly Aziraphale is dressing fashionably? And asking him to a dance at a club with a "select clientele"? Clearly something is amiss.

Something About Flamingos by Plumbeo - Aziraphale and Crowley have a petty, stupid, pointless fight. After four days of not talking to each other, the angel decides to break the silence - in an equally stupid way.

it giveth light unto all in the house (the let's have some wine remix) by pocky_slash - There's loving Crowley the way he loves their waiter at the café and the ducks in St. James Park and linzer tarts and there's—well.

growing season by ghostsoldier - In which Aziraphale kills plants, and Crowley is a generous sort of demon.

Afternoons and Espresso Spoons by Kirathaune

Home by LysanderandHermia - Crowley has a realization, and it's about the angel drooling on the couch while he sleeps.

Sweet Dreams, Angel! by sous_le_saule - Aziraphale’s never been able to sleep. Crowley takes up the challenge.

Be Ye Therefore Merciful by AmberDiceless - Crowley does something utterly unexpected, and Aziraphale must face an opponent who cannot be thwarted.

Saunter by Aria - There is nothing to do but feel out of sorts, disjointed and slightly askew from the world, and watch as Aziraphale absently eats the apple, the world's hundred millionth apple, symbolic of nothing at all.

They Get Together In These Ones

And when he falls by torch - There are many ways to celebrate having avoided the apocalypse.

The Member of the Wedding by Aja - Crowley comes to a realization.

Survivors' Guilt / For All the World by irisbleufic - It was a dark and stormy night, and nobody was enjoying it.

Goodbody by copperbadge - Aziraphael's new body is causing some problems.

Sunday (Or the First Day Of the Rest of Their Lives) by pollitt - Sunday at the park

Under Cover by bliumchik - There's a new little problem in Tadfield...

An Excellent Long-Term Solution by Beth H (bethbethbeth) - In which Hell seems more forgiving than Heaven, Aziraphale seems to have got himself into a bit of a pickle, and Crowley seems to have come up with the perfect solution, almost all on his own.

Firebird: III. Finale by htebazytook - "In the background Crowley and Aziraphale met on the tops of buses, and in art galleries, and at concerts, compared notes, and smiled."

Old Fashioned by htebazytook - Hell has changed.

Very Complicated Solitaire by htebazytook

Ordinary People (The Anything But Ordinary Remix) by cimorene - Crowley has started to take a proprietary interest in Aziraphale's bookshop.

The Speck in the London Eye by Vulgarweed - A hot dame, a missing youth, a quirky consultant—and much much more than meets the eye at stake. Private Investigator A.J. Crowley just might be in over his head this time.

TwoFish by Grindylowe - A love story about angels and demons. Also, fish.

Snowy Evenings by htebazytook - Five times Crowley couldn't stand the snow, and one time he could.

A Peculiar Sensation by Elvendork - It happens at the Ritz: Aziraphale comes to a startling realistion, but takes it in his stride remarkably well.

As Above, So Below by JenTheSweetie - Crowley and Aziraphale talk, drink, complete paperwork, drink, fall asleep with abandon, drink, and do other stuff (maybe). And drink.

Modern Love by punkfaery - Crowley, Aziraphale, and a series of religious buildings.

A Backwards Proposal by HoloXam - An encounter with a bride-to-be puts an idea in Aziraphale's head. Crowley doesn't react very well.

Post-Relationship

Recall by busaikko - RECALL: 1. To ask or order to return; 2. To summon back to awareness; 3. To remember; recollect.

That Subtle Knot by apple_pi - I wonder. Does an angel get his wings when the bell is set off by a demon?

Never Mind the Gravitation by Argyle - Sure, there's life on Mars. But Crowley can hardly call it living.

Flamingos by Interrobam - "Las Vegas, Crowley had always maintained, was technically Aziraphale's fault." Crowley and Aziraphale go to Las Vegas, contemplate the history of civilization and the meaning of existence.

Snapshots by mirawonderfulstar - Five photographs on the wall of Aziraphale’s shop.

A Resort By Any Other Name by TheLifeOfEmm - Or in which Crowley and Aziraphale go on holiday, but have a bit of trouble with the weather.

Hell's Bells (Wedding Bells) by Macdicilla - Hell finds out that Aziraphale and Crowley are together, and eventually Heaven does too. Hell sends its [unwelcome] congratulations.

Categorization by SleepsWithCoyotes - Crowley calls 'em like he sees 'em.

Black Dog by HoloXam - In which Crowley feels bad and Aziraphale makes tea.

The Flame No Dampness Dulls by mirawonderfulstar - Aziraphale doesn't understand why Crowley's spent the last two months trying to seduce him when the demon hasn't ever shown any interest in sex.

heaven is a place where nothing ever happens by Contra - After the end of the world, there comes a new morning.

These Ones Have Sex

Lethe For Two by SleepsWithCoyotes - A visit from the Angel of Oblivion sounds pretty ominous, doesn't it?

Monday, Half Past Four by TruckThat - Crowley decides that almost any course of action is justified if it manages to distract him from the fact that it's been nearly two days and so far nothing else is going wrong.

The Reason for the Season by Vulgarweed - Adam and Pepper, now married with children of their own, worry that their kids might be losing some of the magic of the season. Adam calls in a little favour from some old friends - with a nice little bonus that's in it for them.

No Such Thing by irisbleufic - "You mean [Agnes] was trying to reassure us the whole time that the world wasn't, in fact, going to end?"

Historical

Casual as Birds by apple_pi - Aziraphale and Crowley in London, 1944.

New Day (The Dreaming of You Remix) by Daegaer - Ettore dreams of friendship and love.

The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by Argyle - The Devil has all the best tunes. (London, 1940)

Theatrical Sins: A Play in Three Acts by Aria - "What did you do?" Crowley asked in horror, the first time he saw Aziraphale after sleeping away most of the nineteenth century.

Natural Laws by Argyle - Every object in the Universe attracts every other object. (Lincolnshire, 1665)

Species, Origins by bliumchik - A prehistoric chat.

Lessons in Falling by Argyle - You never forget how. (London, 1866/1899)

The Visible Universe by Argyle - It was not a remarkable day. (England, 1928)

How Crowley Saved Christmas by such_heights - It was 1842, and Aziraphale really didn’t want to do it.

Letters by inabathrobe for miss_narla - Aziraphale and Crowley burn letters and bridges.

Myths Will Be Myths by palavreado - Aziraphale says goodbye to an old friend.

On Transmutation (and Tortoises) by Vermin_Disciple - c. 1859. In which Aziraphale reads the latest bestseller, and he and Crowley take a trip to the Galapagos.

i wanted to hurt you but the victory is that i could not stomach it by gyzym

Three Times Aziraphale Was Almost Too Much Of A Bastard To Be Worth Liking by feverbeats - They have to stop meeting like this.

Safe Haven by JAMoczo - A remix of Prodigal Son: January 1945; Aziraphale has a crisis of Faith.

In der H'lle by Copinggoggles - Snapshot in the trenches.

Hell Is Empty by bemusedlybespectacled (ardentintoxication) - Crowley goes to investigate this Inquisition he supposedly helped to start and finds Aziraphale instead.

And All The Devils Are Here by bemusedlybespectacled (ardentintoxication) - Aziraphale is taken in by the Inquisition for witchcraft and finds help from an unexpected source.

The Widening Gyre by Vulgarweed - In the spring of 1916, some in London and Dublin were fighting a war on two fronts. Three, if you include the heart. (Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of it.)

Bacchanalia by furchte_die_schildkrote - The first time Crowley was kissed by an angel, Aziraphale had wine on his breath, a nearly full moon hung in the sky, and Rome was burning.

Carmina Burana by Lunasong365 - Carmina Burana has been described as: Profane. Sensual. Irreverent. Satirical of religion.So why was its source text discovered in a monastery?

The Fourteenth Century by Elsinore_and_Inverness - An Angel, a Demon and the Crisis of the Late Middle Ages

“O Serpent heart… Fiend Angelical, Dove Feather Raven” -William Shakespeare (R&J, 3.2.74-76) by Elsinore_and_Inverness - 'There are no sonnets immortalizing a demon with eyes like the sun. This is probably just as well.'

Don't Mind You Under My Skin by 50artists - Five times that Crowley tempted Aziraphale (with mixed success), and one time Aziraphale tempted him.

Biblical

It Came Upon A Midnight Clear by Daegaer

Over the Face of all the Earth by Daegaer - The Tower of Babel seemed like a good idea at the time . . .

Father of Nations by Daegaer - Crowley and Aziraphale keep having dealings with the same family.

Thirteen Ways of Looking at an Apple by Argyle - In which one thing leads to another, and the Garden awakens.

build me a city, call it jerusalem by gyzym - Man begets man begets The Tales of Men, and there's nothing godly in that; Those Above and Them Below haven't any need for the stories humans have been hungry for since the snake and the Angel with the flaming sword.

for I am come to send fire on the earth by tomato_greens - The worst of it was that Crowley had already received a commendation, gleaming, from Below.

And Find for Herself a Place to Rest by tomato_greens - So long as you avoided the thorns, it was a nice tree.

Another One Bites the Dust by diefiend - Crowley and Aziraphale and the Crucifixion.

Other Characters

Revisited and Riding Out by Patrick Phelan

Of Woman Born by slythwolf - A brief biography of Adam's biological mother.

Pennies From Heaven (Pound Notes From Hell) by Ineffabilitea - Warlock just wants to feel special again.

Forgotten, As A Dream by Clodius Pulcher (Clodia) - "They'll be back. They're never far away..." Pippin Galadriel Moonchild, aged eleven and a half, dreams red. Or rather, Red.

Good Help is Hard to Find, or The Hazards of Reading Prophecy by Fleur Rochard (fleurrochard), somnolentblue - Wherein Aziraphale hires a shop assistant.

Love Me Tender by tomato_greens - Bright lights and ice cream: what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Except when it doesn't.

Memory Yields by Interrobam - The thing about being destined to bring about the apocalypse when you're eleven was that no one quite made plans for how you were supposed to go about the rest of your life.

The Morning After the Morning After the End of the World by Aegialia - Anathema moves on and figures herself out.

In which Adam challenges Crowley to a drinking contest and it is a terrible idea by Macdicilla - It is a rather foolish thing to set a bet with the devil, or even with a devil, unless you have an ace—or better yet, all the aces in the deck—up your sleeve.

Anything by LoveChilde - About ten years after the world didn’t end, Pippin Galadriel Moonchild meets an angel. Or maybe just a harmless homosexual. They have tea.

Forgive Those Who Trespass by JAMoczo - Crowley and Shadwell share Madame Tracy and Aziraphale for a week. God help us all.

Crossovers

The Nice and Accurate Adventures of Aziraphale in Ankh-Morpork by Glinda - All truly good second-hand bookshops are really genteel black-holes that have learned how to read.

Bargain Breakfast by Daegaer - Crowley gets a suspicious sort of customer.

The Corsair of Carcosa by Vulgarweed - Aziraphale gets his hands on a rare copy of the play The King in Yellow. Reading and its consequences ensue.

#good omens #fic recs #i am very very picky about characterization and prose quality and also i hate fanfiction tropes #but most good omens fics are good and i think these ones are really great

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dweetwise · 4 years ago

Note

Its my birthday tomorrow and I don't wanna hit that age milestone so hear me out four survivors and one killer go into the match but everyones aged back like 20 years. Survivors remember the just of their bonds to one another but not their ages, they know the body they are in is suddenly 20 years younger though.

ngl i saw the first ask and immediately went “GASP AN EXCUSE TO WRITE DAD ACE??” great minds think alike anon. now have 8 pages of fluffy crack bc i got carried away

ages i hc for this story: ace 31, david 14, jake 6, meg 2, sally 27

Characters: Ace, Nurse, David, Jake, Meg | Mentioned: Nea | Ships: None | Warnings: None

Ace tries to parent (crack)

When Ace spawns into a trial on Rotten Fields, something immediately feels... off. He briefly has time to consider why his shirt feels so tight over his shoulders before his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of pure nightmares;

A crying baby.

Ace glances around, skeptical. Surely it has to be a new killer? Not even Feng’s voice is that high-pitched. Ace has half a mind to just leave the voice be, but it’s getting louder and he feels like he needs to do his good deed of the year and at least check. So, armed with a trusty purple flashlight, he gets to exploring.

He follows the ungodly screeching and, to his surprise, finds an actual human baby, laying in a small divot on a hay bale. Shit, what now? He doesn’t know the first thing about kids and he doesn’t really care to start learning now. But he can’t just leave the thing here, not to mention it’s loud as fuck and has probably already alerted the killer.

Ace grimaces and reluctantly reaches out to grab the child in his arms. Damn, it’s heavier than he thought! He pulls the baby into his chest to put less of a strain on his arms, and it... stops crying. Huh. Well, time to sneak off before the killer comes to check the noise. If he’s lucky, he’ll run into one of the others and can dump the kid on them.

Thankfully, there’s no sign of a killer as Ace makes his way through the cornfield. He idly wonders if he’s been placed in the trial alone with the baby, until he hears a loud clang followed by panicked cursing. Ace speeds up into a jog, rounding a corner of a pallet gym and coming face to face with—

“What the hell are you doing?” Ace asks the unfamiliar man who is in the middle of piling barrels on top of each other next to the outside wall of the trial, some of them falling down and creating tons of noise. The baby shifts restlessly in his arms and he half-heartedly tries to cover its ears.

“I’m gettin’ us outta ‘ere!” the man turns to face him with an angry remark. Ace squints at the somewhat familiar face; the man is young, most likely still a teenager, with light acne and a scrawny body that hasn’t quite grown into itself yet. There’s something disturbingly familiar about the glare shot his way, and the accent—

“David!?” Ace gawks. The teen’s glare morphs into a confused frown.

“...Ace?” teen David finally seems to recognize. Then, he looks around, appearing to take in the surroundings with new eyes. “Fock, this ‘s still the bloody fog, innit?”

“Why are you so young?” Ace asks, confused.

“I mean, ‘m not tha only one,” David says, looking him up and down pointedly. “Ya sure as shite din’ look like ‘at last time I saw ye.”

Ace looks down at himself and realizes his own arms are a lot bigger than he’s used to and his gut isn’t hanging over his belt like usual. He’s also wearing pants that are way too tight and speak of a youthful cockiness—holy shit, he’s in his thirties.

“So the kid’s gotta be...” David seems to remember, turning to look over Ace’s shoulder at something. Ace follows suit, and sees a child standing in front of the cornfield, hands over his ears and face twisted into a pout.

Ace recognizes the boy even before David utters his name. With unruly black hair and equally black monolid eyes, it has to be Jake. Even with the annoyed frown on his face, he’s just so young, and this is definitely no place for a kid. Before Ace has time to panic further, David throws him for another loop.

“Does’sat mean the baby’s... Meg?” the Brit asks, leaning to look closer at the small kid in Ace’s arms. Sure enough, Ace notices the toddler is a redhead, and its blue eyes are blinking up at him curiously. The ages start adding up, and Ace mutters a dejected “Fuck”.

“The hell’s going on?” David appears to share his sentiment. “Do we gotta escape? How the fuck do we get ‘em out?” he starts raising his voice, panic rising while gesturing to Jake and Meg.

“Calm down,” Ace says, trying to stop his own thoughts from racing. “Let’s just move as a group and try find the nearest generator. If the killer comes, I’ll distract him while you hide these two.”

“Generators?” David says with a frown. “I dun... I don’t remember much, the trials... is’a proper blur—damn, me ‘ead hurts.” Goddamnit. Looks like the transformation had some effect on the other’s memory. Ace can only hope it’s temporary.

“Jake?” he turns to the boy, who perks up upon hearing his name. “What about you? Are you alright?” Jake doesn’t answer, only staring up at Ace. “Do you remember anything?” Ace asks, crouching before the quiet boy and holding out Meg for him to see. “Do you remember her?” he asks.

Jake glances at Meg, eyes wide while he considers the question. “I remember...” Jake starts quietly, looking back up at Ace and blinking a couple times innocently. “That you’re gross,” he finishes. Ace sputters at the unexpected sass while David laughs behind him, teenage voice cracking into a squeak.

When David calms down and Ace tries to pry more information from the teen, he realizes he’s gotten stuck with team Daddy Issues. Both Jake and David have beef with their fathers, and Ace recalls Meg telling them her dad ran out on her when she was just a baby. Surely, this was a deliberate move on the Entity’s part just to spite Ace?

“Oh!” David suddenly exclaims, as if remembering something important. Ace almost thinks his luck is about to turn around when David, instead of blessing him with some vital piece of information, proceeds to stretch the waist of his sweats to peer into his own pants. “Aw, shite!” the teen sighs in disappointment.

“Can we focus on the imminent danger and not the size of your junk!?” Ace hisses in frustration.

“Who’s that?” Jake’s voice pipes up and distracts Ace from the argument.

Ace looks into the corn and sees a woman approaching them, walking gracefully through the stalks with her red hair flowing behind her, dressed in a... nurse uniform. Shit!

“Stay back!” Ace warns, stepping in front of Jake protectively, turning his body away to shield Meg in his arms. He points the flashlight at the killer in what he hopes is a threatening manner.

“Ace?” she asks, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. Huh, Ace had no idea she even knew his name. Now that he thinks about it, she’s pretty cute, with her round face and button nose—damn it, focus!

“What's going on?” Ace demands. “Why did the Entity de-age us?”

“I don’t know,” the Nurse says. “I’m just as confused as you are.”

Ace squints. Pretty or not, he doesn’t trust her, not with these kids depending on him to protect them. Before he can question her further, David, hands thankfully no longer in his pants, comes up beside him.

“David, don’t—“ Ace tries to warn, but he has no free hands to stop the teen if he decides to pick a fight.

“’Ello, luv. Fancy meetin’ ya,” David offers in a friendly manner. Ace sighs, some of the tension fading. Then, David’s gaze drops down from the killer’s face to her-— “Noice tits,” the Brit quips, grinning smugly.

“David!” Ace screeches, mortified and barely resisting the urge to smack him with the flashlight. “That’s no way to talk to a lady!”

The Nurse merely chuckles into her hand, not seeming phased by David’s inappropriate comment. “I’m without my powers and weapon, so perhaps I could assist you in your escape?” she suggests. Ace feels like he kind of owes her for David’s hormone-driven harassment.

“You can tag along if you want,” Ace settles on. “Let’s try to finally find a gen.”

“I saw one on the other side of that hill,” the Nurse informs. “I’ll show you the way.”

“Uh, thanks. Pack it up boys, we’re moving!” Ace calls over his shoulder to David and Jake.

“Ya comin’, mate?” he hears David offer to Jake.

“What’s a mate?” Jake asks, tilting his head with a frown while trailing after David.

“Like a... lad. Chum. Pal. Wanker—”

“Hey!” Ace turns around to scold the teen. The last thing he needs is bratty Jake picking up more curse words.

“Like a... friend?” Jake tries.

“Yeah!” David says. Jake blushes.

“I wanna be your friend, you’re so cool,” Jake mumbles.

“Race ya through the corn!” David challenges.

“David NO—” Ace warns as the two boys take off in a sprint in the opposite direction of the generator. He curses under his breath, holding Meg closer to his chest as he starts jogging after them.

When Ace catches up, Jake has faceplanted into the mud and David is nowhere to be seen.

“Oh for the love of—” Ace sighs, pulling the boy upright by his collar. He expects Jake to cry, because isn’t that what kids do when they trip over themselves? Instead, Jake just blinks up at Ace with a muddy face.

“I fell,” Jake says.

“I can see that,” Ace deadpans.

“Oi, over ‘ere! I found a gen!” David calls through a couple rows of corn.

Ace gets Jake to the generator David is at without further incident. The Nurse quickly joins them, pushing through the corn. She takes one look at Jake’s face and hides a smile behind her hand, reaching for a handkerchief and proceeding to wipe the boy’s face clean. Ace appreciates the gesture.

“Thanks—uh, I don’t even know your name,” Ace realizes.

“Sally,” the Nurse offers with a small smile. “Shall we try repairing the generator, now?” she asks when Jake’s face is somewhat mud-free.

“Right,” Ace says, crouching down by the machine, trying to figure out a way to hold Meg safely while repairing. Sally leans over the generator on the other side, curiously observing the mechanism.

“You joining, David?” Ace asks the teen who is doing fuck all to contribute. He frowns as he sees David’s face is red and he’s breathing a bit heavily. Then, he spots a noticeable tent in the teen’s loose pants. Oh for fuck’s sake! David is standing directly behind Sally, and got a generous view of her skirt clinging to her ass when she bent down. Ace sighs in exasperation and gives David a pointed look.

“Oi, I can’t do nuthin’ about it!” David sputters.

“Yes, well, you could try if not staring helps,” Ace snarks.

“It’s fockin’ puberty, not me!” David argues. Then he seems to realize something, face breaking into a smug grin. “Not that ye’d remember any of tha’, ye old fart.”

“I beg your pardon??” Ace screeches while both David and Sally laugh at his expense.

It seems the Entity isn’t allowing Sally to interact with the generator, blocking her side of the machine each time she tries to touch it.

“Do you want me to hold her while you repair the generator?” Sally asks, motioning to Meg in Ace’s arms.

Ace eyes the killer warily, hugging Meg tighter to himself. The small girl responds by reaching out a snotty hand and smacking it against his beard, gurgling in amusement. Ugh, lovely.

“Do you truly believe I would hurt her?” Sally pushes.

“Fine,” Ace sighs in defeat as his grip on the toddler is about to slip again when he tries to reach into the generator. “But I’m keeping an eye on you, so don’t get any ideas!”

In the end, Ace has to teach David how to repair the generator, as all of the younger’s previous knowledge of the machines seems to have evaporated. He quickly learns that if David as an adult is impatient, David as a teenager is downright insufferable. Lots of cursing and slang insults ensue as David keeps getting the wrong wires crossed and setting their progress back and Ace’s patience is put to a test.

Meanwhile, Sally gives Meg a wooden horse and Jake a large pine cone to play with, the items that apparently would have been her add-ons for the trial. Meg immediately shoves the horse’s head into her mouth and suckles on it.

“Is it safe? Is it going to splinter?” Ace asks, five seconds away from swooping Meg back into his arms and throwing the questionable toy into the depths of the cornfield.

“It’s old, but the wood is smooth. It won’t splinter, I promise,” Sally reassures.

As he and David are working on the next generator, Sally is humming softly a ways to the side, rocking a napping Meg in her lap who is clutching her new toy in her tiny hands. Jake sits on the ground next to them, using sticks to make the pine cone into an animal. He excitedly shows in to Sally, muttering “Sheep”.

“That’s a cute sheep, Jake,” the killer praises. “Very fluffy.” Jake shuffles his feet, embarrassed by the praise.

Ace feels the generator's piston jump under his hands, before the machine putters along much faster than before.

“Look, I did a thing!” David exclaims, excitedly turning to Ace. “Tha’ was good, right?”

“Yeah, nice job David,” Ace praises, making the teen grin.

“I always wanted children,” Sally says, mostly to herself. “This is nice,” she sighs happily, even while wiping some of Meg’s drool from the sleeping girl’s face.

Ace can’t say he shares the sentiment. He never even seriously considered children; after all, they wouldn’t have fit his lifestyle of gambling and drinking. But now, when he takes in the familiar, if much younger, faces of his companions, he realizes he’s already been looking out for them way before this freak incident. He recalls how his view on baby Meg changed in the blink of an eye as he realized she, like Jake and David, weren’t just any kids; they were his kids. It’s been so easy for him to slip into a dad role now that they fully depend on him and he idly wonders if he would have made a good father, had he ever decided to have children of his own.

When they’re making their way to the next generator, Jake tugs on Sally’s skirt.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Sally asks fondly. Jake pouts and tries to hop up to touch her arm, almost stumbling over his own feet in his eagerness.

“Do you want to hold my hand?” Sally asks, rearranging her grip on Meg to hold her with one arm, and then extending the other down to Jake. Jake grabs the hand eagerly and offers a shy smile at the woman.

And damnit, the exchange tugs at heartstrings Ace didn’t even know he had.

They make it to the third generator and while he and David get to work on it, Sally sits down with Meg and Jake curiously peers over David’s shoulder at the machine.

Then, Jake disappears.

“I swear, he was right there!” no, Ace is not panicking, he’s just... concerned, antsy, and ready to kill if something happens to Jake. Okay, so maybe he’s panicking a little bit.

“You know how kids are,” Sally says, way too calm about the entire situation. “Let’s go look for him, he can’t have gone far. I’ll check by the shack,” she suggests, turning to leave.

“No, you give Meg to me, I don’t trust you,” Ace snaps. Hurt flashes across Sally’s face. “...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I’m just worried, alright?”

“I understand,” she says, respectfully still handing the baby back to him. Meg lets out an excited coo at seeing Ace, arms extending towards him eagerly. “Let’s split up and holler when we find him.”

“Lemme help,” David offers, moving to stand up from the generator.

“You’re staying here, in case he comes back,” Ace orders. “And stay put until we get back. I’m not losing any more kids in this damn place.”

“Okay, dad,” David snarks, rolling his eyes but obediently getting back to work by the machine.

Ace power-walks through the rows of corn, checking the harvester along with some fire barrels he saw earlier. His heart drops as he takes in all the dangerous farm equipment; if Jake got stuck under a tractor—no, focus, he scolds himself. Not even Meg’s happy babbling can keep the dread from pooling in his stomach.

“Ace, I found him! He’s okay!” Sally’s voice is a godsend, interrupting his panicked thoughts. He spots her red hair through the corn, quickly making his way over, relief flooding over him—

And promptly flying out the window when he sees Jake in the goddamn cow tree, high up and clinging to one of the branches, petrified from fear.

“In what world is he okay!?” Ace screeches.

“He doesn’t look hurt! We should be able to climb up easily, I just need to get rid of my overskirt—“ Sally starts.

“I’ll get him, you hold her,” Ace says, shoving Meg into Sally’s hands before sprinting up to the tree with single-minded determination. He’s grateful for his younger body as he manages to fly up the damn thing fast as lighting, so much adrenaline pumping in his veins that he barely registers getting smacked in the face by stray branches. Soon, he’s holding a trembling Jake in his arms and he knows everything will be alright.

After he’s carefully made his way down the tree with Jake clinging to him, and places the boy back on solid ground, Jake starts bawling. Ace almost feels like joining in, still shaking from the adrenaline and with countless ‘what if’ scenarios running through his head.

“Shh darling, it’s okay, you’re safe now,” Sally murmurs, trying to soothe the boy. Jake just shakes his head and cries some more.

Ace frowns and glances up at the tree. Did Jake get scared by the height, or did something else happen? Maybe he got smacked by one of the cows—ah. Of course; Ace has become so desensitized to the carcasses strung up on the tree, and in a fucked up way they even symbolize safety to him because they’re attached to one of the strongest loops he knows.

But Jake loves animals. And even if he didn’t, what kid wants to see that!?

“The cows must have scared you. You like animals, don’t you?” Ace asks, kneeling before the sobbing boy. Jake hiccups, nodding. “They’re not real. They’re not actually hurting.”

“Promise?” Jake sniffles.

“Promise.”

Jake’s sobbing stops and he rushes into Ace’s arms. “I don’t wanna look,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut.

“It’s okay. I’ll tell when it’s safe to look,” Ace promises, lifting Jake up in a reverse piggyback while the boy clings to his neck, still shaking.

They rejoin David, the teen’s face lighting up when he spots Jake in Ace’s arms.

“Ey, little lad! Where you run off ta?” David offers with a smile.

“He went on a little adventure,” Sally offers when Jake doesn’t look up from Ace’s shoulder. Ace spots a crow nearby, perched on a hay bale.

“You can look now, Jake,” Ace remembers. Jake lifts his head, and Ace points to the crow. “Do you see the bird?”

Jake’s eyes widen in wonder and he nods slowly, eyes never leaving the animal.

“We can look at it closer—but you need to be very quiet. Can you do that?”

Jake nods excitedly, not uttering a peep. Ace starts sneaking toward the crow, trying to keep low, and leading Jake after him. He hopes he doesn’t spook it, since he’s never been good with the birds like Jake, always setting them off in trials and alerting the killer.

It seems luck is on his side, as they’re soon right by the animal, which doesn’t seem to be bothered by their presence as it keeps grooming itself. Ace motions for Jake to go on, and the boy carefully walks up to the bird. He reaches a small hand out and the animal—lets him pet it. Woah. Looks like Jake has always been a natural.

The beady eyes of the crow meet Jake’s equally black ones, wide in curiosity as he carefully runs his fingers through the feathers.

And then the crow caws in a starte and takes off as the generator behind them blows up.

“Bollocks!” David curses.

“Language,” Sally scolds half-heartedly.

“Let me show you a trick,” Ace offers to the teen, rejoining the group at the generator with Jake.

“Sorry I made yer mate fly away,” David mutters apologetically when they’ve all moved to the next generator, Jake sitting in the mud between Ace and David and playing with the sheep he made earlier. Jake shakes his head.

“It’s okay,” he says. Then he looks up at Ace. “Mommy never let me play with the bird,” he explains. “Said it’s dirty and will make me sick.”

“Well, you were really good with the bird and clearly have a talent. Why not use it?” Ace encourages. Jake smiles brightly and Ace’s heart swells with pride.

The last gen they need to complete is in the shack, and Ace asks Sally to keep Meg and Jake away as the worn building is full of rusty nails and splintered wood. It’s just him and David, and the teen isn’t messing up a single one of the wires this time.

“Yer awful nice to Sally,” David suddenly says.

“Well, she’s been a great help, even if I was skeptical at first,” Ace shrugs.

“Nah, I mean... Ya could’ve taken ‘er,” David says, somber tone in his voice. Ace peers over the generator in confusion, meeting the teen’s serious gaze. “She don’t have ‘er weapon or teleport. She’s just a small lass, no match for ye. Could’a easily had revenge.”

Something unpleasant twists in Ace’s stomach at the words and David’s dark expression. He’s not sure he likes where this is going.

“Not really my style to hold grudges; I’m a lover, not a fighter,” Ace tries to joke. “And even if I wasn’t... Attacking a defenseless woman? That’s beyond fucked up,” he says, frowning at David while trying to figure out what the other is getting at.

“I know,” David says with a frown of his own. “I was try’na say, you could’a, but you didn’t, an’... I respect ya for it,” he mutters the last part staring at the machine. Ace quirks an eyebrow; it seems like David wanted to... give him a lecture in respecting women?

“You know, if you want her to feel safe, maybe you shouldn’t have sexually harassed her,” Ace points out. David groans in embarrassment.

“I know, I was jus’ try’na get between you lot to defuse, an’... ‘m gonna apologize to ‘er,” David mutters awkwardly. Huh, that was a lot easier than Ace imagined. He thought teenagers were supposed to be unreasonable?

The last gen pops and they regroup with Sally and the two kids in front of an exit. While David is opening the gate, Sally hands Meg back to Ace.

“Daddy!” the small girl exclaims, smiling brightly while wrapping her hands around his neck.

“I usually hear that in a very different context,” Ace jokes, causing Sally to chuckle. Jake pulls on Sally’s skirt, handing her the pine cone.

“Thanks for borrowing mr. Sheep,” Jake says.

“Oh, what a polite little boy you are. So precious,” Sally coos, carefully accepting the gift and petting Jake’s hair fondly. Jake blushes and rushes to hide behind Ace, peeking out behind his legs to glance at Sally shyly.

As the exit doors slide open, Sally’s face twists into a worried frown. “Will you be alright?” she asks.

“I mean, even if the whole camp somehow turned young? I think I can handle it,” Ace says, tentative confidence in his parenting skills having built up during the trial. The most likely outcome is that the Entity will turn them right back after the trial, and the ones back at camp will be none the wiser. “Oh, uh. Thanks for the help,” he adds, remembering his manners.

“Don’t mention it,” Sally says, smiling.”It would be nice if this happened more often, where I didn’t have to—” she falters. Kill you, Ace supplies in his mind.

“Don’t worry,” Ace says. “We’re all just... doing our best.”

“I’m... glad you see it that way,” Sally says, looking down at the ground and nervously twirling a red lock between her fingers. Huh... is she—?

A small hand tugging at his own interrupts his thoughts, and he turns his full attention to Jake, who is looking up at him with big black eyes.

“Let’s go home,” Jake says, pulling on his finger towards the exit. Ace grabs his hand and smiles fondly. “You’re right,” Ace says.

“I, uh, Sally,” David hastily interrupts. “‘M sorry about... y’know, before—”

“Don’t worry about it, I know you were just trying to lighten the mood,” Sally says with a small smile. “And if you tried anything, I could still kick your ass into next year,” she adds innocently.

Ace chokes on a laugh, not expecting this side of the soft-spoken woman. Instead of being flustered, David looks... intrigued.

“Ya mean ya can still, like, carry us on yer shoulder...?” David asks curiously. When Sally nods, David’s eyes go wide and a flush spreads over his cheeks.

“Okay that’s our cue to leave!” Ace interrupts, not mentally prepared to hear any more about David’s apparent infatuation with strong women. “Come on, lover boy,” Ace nudges the teen into the exit.

“Gimme a few years, luv!” David hollers excitedly before disappearing into the fog after Ace.

And with that, they’re done with their strangest trial to date.

“I just had the weirdest dream,” Ace overhears Meg tell Nea the next day, a confused frown on her face.

“What about?” Nea asks.

“You remember how I’ve never met my dad?” Meg asks, and Nea nods. “Well, I dreamed that I did. I was really young, like still a baby or something, so it wasn’t really... lucid. I couldn’t understand what he said, but I remember his voice and like, his smile. He just held me in his arms and,” her voice cracks. “I just knew he’d never leave me.” She blinks some wetness from her eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to start bawling—” she hurries to explain.

“No, it’s okay, come here,” Nea assures her friend, pulling her into a hug. “That sounds like a really nice dream. I’m happy for you.”

Ace feels his throat choke up as he watches a grateful Meg cry into Nea’s shoulder. He turns his focus back to shuffling the cards, thankful he’s wearing his shades as his own eyes start watering dangerously.

remember when i said “i’m gonna write shorter stories from now on”? sike

#dbd crack #ace visconti #david king #jake park #meg thomas #sally smithson #dbd nurse #dbd #dead by daylight #request #dbd fanfic #dweetwrites

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