#material conditions continue to worsen. it's never going to get better

[aristaresident]

looking down the gun at the fundamental truth that nothing good will ever happen to me in my life and i will never be happy

[hitory--chan]

Day 5: Queen of the Garden

(Ranked T)

Title: In my withered roses you lay resting

Around the forest there were always legends of all kinds, about fantastic creatures and horrifying monsters beyond human imagination, about nymphs, fairies, werewolves and giant snakes that would devastate the entire town in a few minutes if they wanted to; they were just legends, stories to amaze or scare whoever would listen to them, hypnotizing the virgin ear that listened to them with their magnetism, leading their victim to demand more, driving them mad in the search to satisfy that need.

But there was one in particular, the biggest, the most fantastic, the most sublime and the most terrifying no one ever dared to tell, the one whose existence was only known to the oldest of the town who defended tooth and nail its veracity, but nevertheless only tell each other, remembering and crying the intense agony that each word conveyed.

The legend of Hinata, the queen of the garden in the heart of the forest, and Sasuke, the infamous king who without any army was able to penetrate the invulnerable barriers that protected the queen.

The king who never returned.

“My King!” One of her courtesans shouted. "Please, I beg you to reconsider!"

He ignored her, tightening the draws of his armor as the guards placed the shoulder pads and handed him his helmet, which he took.

It was still dark, the moonlight hanging over the entire sleeping kingdom as he prepared to leave.

"My lord, he turned, now listening to his first officer, Kakashi, who was speaking to him "Are you sure this is a good idea? Going into the forest alone?"

"It's not something I didn't do before, Kakashi, you should know" he replied without much interest as he grasped the reins of Onyx, the majestic black horse that had accompanied him for years.

"I understand, but it's not the same, your majesty, it never got beyond the Stone River" the man said, his voice so slow and dull as if it was something he was trained to say, but Sasuke knew him better than many as to know that there was concern hidden behind those dead tones “It is a great risk to take to find a woman that we do not even know exists”

"People are dying Kakashi, of hunger, of disease ..." He inclined his head a little towards his first officer, not enough to really see him “If that woman, that… witch exists, it will be our chance to solve all the evils that afflict us, if I find her, then I save my people”

“And if you do not find her, my lord?”

“Then we will have to take more drastic actions, actions that I don't think we're ready for right now, Kakashi”

The silence that followed told Sasuke that the man knew what he was referring to.

They had recently fought a war against a rival kingdom that wanted to take over all his lands. They attacked in the middle of the night, cowardly seeking to have the tactical advantage darkness gave them without expecting the surprise that they were ready to fight back with much more violence than would be expected of a small kingdom that barely prospered in comparison to others. Many lives were lost on both sides, but his army had kept the slightest advantage over the invaders and captured the main officers of the intruders, executing him right on the battlefield as he had ordered them to do, closing any openings to negotiation the rival might propose.

They rose above them and conquered, drove the remaining invaders from their lands and proclaimed their victory, but they had not come out without casualties, as happened in any other war.

Their crops were burned and their women desecrated. Bodies of infants who had adventured out of their hiding spots now laying among the corpses of their fathers and men who sacrificed their lives in the name of the king's sovereignty, waiting to be buried or burned while their mothers, wives, and brothers mourned their losses.

Soon after came the diseases, plagues so violent that even the best physicians in the kingdom had succumbed to permanent contact with the infected and were now lying in beds, signaling with weak voices to proceed to their charges.

The only hope was the woman who dwelt in the depths of the forest, a queen in her own right, the oracle told him, whose miraculous fingers brought life to everything she touched. A witch, servant of the devil, counterattacked the priest, who would only bring bliss before plunging them further into misery.

A queen, a witch, Sasuke didn't care, he only wanted her hands to heal his people, determined to cut them off if necessary to save the few that were left.

Then Sasuke mounted his horse and reached out his hand, taking the sword that Kakashi had prepared for him and fastening it to his waist strap, where it would remain with him throughout his journey.

"Itachi will be in charge while I'm gone" he decreed, looking at his court, who looked at him in surprise and disbelief.

“My king, my lord!” The woman spoke again “His majesty is very ill for this task, I fear that his condition is too delicate to carry the role, your highness!”

“My brother already ruled once in a worse state than the one he currently is in while waiting for me to grow up to cede the throne, he certainly can do it a bit more while I'm gone”

“But sir…!”

"In case his condition worsens ..." he interrupted, with a tone of voice as icy as the look he gave the woman "in case he´s not an act to continue, then Kakashi will make all the decisions in my absence and my brother's disability”

Several indignant murmurs were heard from the other members of the court, annoyed by the possibility of a military man would rule them, but with the same look he gave the insolent woman, he quieted them all.

"Kakashi" he called and the man walked with him towards the limits of the kingdom that served as the border of the forest, trotting slowly as his first officer followed him with great ease "I trust you to keep everyone safe, especially my brother” he said, stopping his steed and staring at the man.

"My king's orders are my perpetual la," Kakashi recited, quoting the motto of imperial strength as he brought his right hand to his heart and bowed to him.

Sasuke nodded, but before starting his horse again, he spoke for the last time.

- And Kakashi ... execute her

Kakashi bowed again and Sasuke pulled the reins of his horse to start running, going into the forest when the first rays of dawn hit the ground, and knowing his order would be carried out without hesitation.

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

Inside the forest the thick trees hid any trace of the sun, giving the illusion that it was still night even though Sasuke knew it must be after eight.

Still he didn't back down, mentally reciting the directions the oracle had given him to find the mysterious woman.

“Once crossed the river of stone, the road will split for you, one more dangerous the other, competing for the new prey that appears before them. Be guided by the horrendous noises that make the bones of the strongest of men tremble, by the trail of perdition from which your eyes will not be able to turn away, from the putrid stench of those who defied the sanctity of the earth who stepped on impure feet.

Along the way you will find death's favorite resting place. Do not drink or eat the natural delicacies that will be shown for you, instead you must use your senses, facing the great beast that will attack from the shadows.

If the combat is satisfactory, then the beast will show its respects by leading you to its queen, otherwise, there will be the place of your last rest"

Naturally, oracles liked to be cryptic with their words to the point of making them indecipherable, but the more than a century old woman who had served three generations of her family had put those fanfare behind her, preferring to be as clear as possible in her revelations than risk a bad future for the kingdom because of misunderstandings out of her tongue.

Upon reaching the Stone River, he took a moment to observe the waters peacefully.

That river had been named this way not only because of the rock formation that simulated a natural bridge in the center of that great pool, just covering its surface with a thin layer of water that made it extremely slippery, but also because of the rock at its bottom, arranged in the shape of spikes so sharp that even the slightest fall on them could cause fatal injuries to the unfortunate victim.

He allowed Onyx to drink some of the water before venturing across the stone bridge.

His horse, fearless just like his owner, also had some afraid. On rare occasions he’d tried to cross that path through the waters with the equine, but his partner had acquired a phobia at that particular step when, being very young, he slipped on the stone and it was almost impossible for him to get back on his feet, almost falling to the bottom of the river when with desperate movements he slid to one side before finally reaching the bank of the river and climbing, being completely exhausted on the grass, all under the frightened gaze of his owner who had remained on dry land while his horse struggled.

He remembers that, after that, he had remained with Onyx there for longer than he ever was in that place, being found by the royal guard and brought to the castle only to remain expectant all night at the possibility of having to sacrifice the animal.

Now, Onyx was a majestic and imposing stallion with more history than half his stablemates, but from time to time he would turn back into a fearful foal when they were near that place.

However, while he normally wouldn't push him any further than he considered Onyx could take, this time around he couldn't afford to be understandable to his horse or to be left without a mount for the rest of the way.

“Come on boy!” He encouraged him, shaking the reins several times and smiling as Onyx, refusing at first, approached the rock and put his front legs on it, whinnying loudly as he took small terrified steps.

Even in the slippery material, the new horseshoes he had had his horse put on were being especially helpful in preventing the equine's legs from slipping over the rock even when Onyx's steps were somewhat shaky, leading the horse to gain a little confidence with every step until he was finally on the other side.

“Well done, Onyx!” He congratulated the horse, patting and stroking his neck before pulling out an apple, which he happily accepted.

He wasted no time and continued with the journey, reaching the place where the road divided in three.

At first glance they did not seem dangerous at all, leading him to wonder if the oracle had been wrong with her interpretation or if he had deviated from the correct path himself, but the sudden sound of something sliding on the ground caught his attention and put his whole body on guard again, waiting for any sign of attack.

Instead what he received was the cawing of birds, crows, he recognized, noises of something sliding and the screeching of bats that flew directly to his face at that moment, causing Onyx to panic and stand up on his two hind legs, almost making Sasuke to fall.

When he regained his balance and Onyx was back on all fours, Sasuke looked at the central path, remembering what the oracle had said and thinking that this should be the way to go, so he made the horse move forward, despite the reluctance of the animal.

The putrid stench started only a few minutes on the road before dead animals began to appear on the road, being replaced only a few meters later by human corpses in various states of putrefaction, from skeletons to bodies that should barely have been there for a few days. , and even recognized the uniform worn by the third-rank guards in his kingdom, only stuffed with bones, each corpse wrapped by vines and other local weeds.

He was forced to breathe as little as possible when the stench became impossible to bear, coming to vomit in the section where everything was strongest, without having the opportunity to breathe until the road began to clear of so much death, showing to his sight a great stone plateau clothed with climbing vines and rosebuds.

He got off his horse and gave him another snack, tying the reins to the tree farthest from the ferns and other plants full of fruit that he knew they shouldn't eat.

Slowly and carefully he approached the great structure, gazing at it in fascination. Up close, he noticed the spines that protruded around the roses of different sizes that decorated the plateau, which, he noticed, were deceptively sharp, cutting him at the simple touch and spilling a thick drop of blood that bathed the thorn that caused his wound.

The sudden tremor in his spine appeared as the slight trembling of the earth beneath his feet, accompanied by the sound of something sliding - something that must have been big and heavy, from the way it sounded - and then deafening silence was present. .

“Onyx!” He shouted, turning around when he heard the horse whinny and stop suddenly, expecting to meet the animal where he had left it, however in its place he found another type of animal, giant and with shiny black scales, which were only cut with the three red lines of scales on the tip of its tail, raised in the air with a swaying motion.

The gigantic snake kept its eyes fixed on his, hissing and showing off his forked white tongue.

Eyes wider than they had ever been in his life, he diverted them just a little to the rest of the great reptile's body, almost growling in pain at the bulge protruding from where, he guessed, was the stomach of the immense snake, sure it was the product of his horse swallowing.

Feeling the flame of fury ignite and grow in him, he grasped the hilt of his sword in a slow motion and drew it lightly, as the serpent rose a little higher above him.

With one swift movement he pulled it out completely as the snake lunged at him, barely being fast enough to avoid its jaws, but not fast enough to dodge its tail, which slammed it against a tree and left it stamped there until he nailed the sword almost halfway.

Even his powerful armor hadn't been enough to shield him from that blow, catching his breath cut short by the pressure of the limb that had held him captive, but he had no time to think about that as he tried to get away from the great perimeter that covered the snake.

The injured tail slammed into the ground next to him, causing him to stumble from the din it caused.

The reptile's head also collided with the ground a few feet from his back and then glided at high speed towards him, using its nose to push him up when he collided with him and sent him flying into the air as the snake rose again, now with its jaws open.

But Sasuke was able to hold on to the tip of the animal's nose and avoid being swallowed as he had done with his horse by resting his feet against the bottom of the snake's mouth and giving a little jump before it closed it, being helped by the impulse that the same reptile gave him before the abrupt movement it made while trying to make him fall.

Sasuke stayed on the snake's skull and held onto its scales as best he could before stabbing his sword - which he had clung to as much as he could during the attack - into one of the animal's eyes, which let out a shrill and strange sound before, to Sasuke's immense amazement, it made a 180 ° turn and threw himself hard against the floor, taking him with and crashing him on the flat surface, a blow so violent that it caused him to lose his helmet, his mobility and his strength.

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

Only seconds before he lost consciousness he saw the towering snake - now one-eyed - rise above him before launching itself with his jaws open just as Sasuke's eyes finally gave up.

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was the immense throbbing pain in his head that only got worse when he tried to open his eyes, being hit by the brightest sunlight that forced him to close them again.

Where had so much light come from?

After a while, and when he was sure he could resist it, he opened his eyes again.

It took him a long time to regain the clarity of his sight, but once everything was clear he was astonished at what he saw.

In front of him a large colorful space, green above all, stood proud in all that light. Huge trees were here and there, casting great shadows, covered with fruit in great quantity.

A few meters from him was a lake with crystal clear waters, reflecting everything that was shown from above.

It was only when a slight movement behind him caught his attention that he realized he had been leaning against something cold, and when he turned around he felt as if his entire being had left his body when he found himself face to face with the giant eye yellowish that he recognized instantly.

He backed away quickly, grunting in pain as his muscles protested at his sudden movements, but instead of stopping to ease them, he fought them and reached for his sword at her waist, surprised not to find it.

The snake stared at him for a few seconds before lazily deflecting its head toward the center of the thread that had turned its body.

—You must not fear, it will not hurt you

He turned quickly and looked around, searching for the soft voice that he had said those words.

"Onyx" he breathed out, seeing the mate he had thought he lost, now lying on the grass, asleep on the other side of the lake.

Naturally those words were not said by the animal, but by the other person next to it, who was gently stroking the mane of his horse.

Their eyes met and he forgot how to breathe, incredulous of the moons that were his pupils, beautiful, and that without a doubt were looking directly at him.

The woman stood up and he could see her completely: snowy skin, long dark hair that swayed with every step she took. Her body was covered in leaves, branches and flowers that clung to her like a second layer. The upper part of her was covered by vines up to the middle of her breasts, being enough to cover the most. The lower part was a skirt, much less rigid than the upper one as it was made entirely of green leaves in different sizes, stopping only a few inches above her knees.

A long vine rested in the center of her abdomen, joining the two pieces as one.

She was barefoot and her hair was decorated with the most elaborate flower crown he had ever seen in his life.

As he passed by the lake, he stopped, crouching in the direction of the water, taking from the ground a large leaf of a plant that he did not recognize - and which he had not realized was lying there - and wrapped it gently until it formed a bowl that she plunged into the water until filled it, rising again and resuming its way towards him, now with the makeshift pot that spilled tiny drops from its bottom.

When she finally got to him, he saw her more clearly: thin and natural pink lips, a small and upturned nose, perfectly shaped eyebrows and long eyelashes that only marveled her appearance even more, also highlighting the lack of the slightest freckle on her face.

She offered him the bowl but he did not take it at first, still fascinated and hypnotized by the beauty of the woman in front of him until she pushed it to his chest, forcing him to hold it as she took one by one his hands between her smallest and drew them to the sides of the blade, releasing it when she made sure his grip was firm.

She, with one of her index fingers, touched the surface of the water three times in different parts, and when her hand lowered three different flowers grew in the water: a lotus, a calla and a water lily, which immediately disintegrated and mixed with the liquid, giving it a color that ranged from pink to purple.

"Take it" she said, looking into his eyes "it will help you heal."

He didn't know why, but he obeyed her and took the entire tonic in one gulp, grimacing when the bitter taste of it touched his tongue and she slid down her throat.

She smirked and turned around, walking back to where Onyx was now awake, looking at them wearily.

"It's you" was the first thing that came out of his mouth, looking at her completely uncovered back as she walked away from him “The witch”.

Her walking stopped and she turned around again, looking at him now with a frown, offended.

“That's very rude!. I am not a witch" she protested "My name is Hinata Hyuga, and I am the queen of this garden" she said proudly, turning to resume her march as if her statement was enough to deny his word.

But he would not be fooled; he had witnessed for himself what she had done in the water she had given him to drink.

He looked around him and his sight fell on his sword and armor, arranged neatly on the grass near the giant serpent's tail.

Slowly and careful not to be heard he approached his things and took the sword at the same time that with difficulty he took three steps back as the snake's tail moved to hit the ground and then returned to its original position.

It took a bit of trouble, but he was able to raise his sword and hold it with both hands, directing the tip in the direction in which that woman - that witch - was, now again sitting on the grass, stroking the back of his horse, looking at him unimpressed.

"Witch, you will come with me" he demanded "Everything will be easier if you do not resist, you will get a decent treatment: you will sleep in the softest bed, you will wear the finest clothes ... otherwise, if you resist, you ... you ..." He stopped for a moment, not for lack of words, but from shortness of breath —If… if you resist… the dungeon… the smallest and dirtiest dungeon will be…

"You’re hurting them" she interrupted, and he didn't understand.

The witch looked down and he followed her eyes, stopping at the sword that was now stuck in the middle of a small group of flowers.

When had he lowered his sword?

“What did you do to me?” He growled, aware of the progressive loss of strength to which he was subjected.

"It's the medicine" said the witch, calmly "for your body to heal, it must first rest”

And as if that were a command, his body fell apart, causing him to fall to the floor on a tall grass bed that he could swear was not there a moment ago.

- Witch! ... You will pay...

Unconsciousness welcomed him.

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When he woke up there was still sunlight, quite clear, so he thought that maybe he had only slept a few seconds, but the environment felt different from before and he could hear the distinctive galloping and neighing of Onyx, going here and there as his footsteps slightly covered the happy laugh of the female.

He could not move his body freely, only just his fingers, and mentally he cursed himself for having taken that concoction that this evil woman had given him, clearly using her sorcery to weaken him.

“Your body still needs rest” he could have shuddered at the sudden voice if it weren't for the fact that he was paralyzed, shortly afterwards the witch's face appeared in his visual range, tilted from above so he could see her “you´ve been very hurt by your confrontation with Munda, your injuries will take a little longer to heal”

He grunted, annoyed.

“Why have you risked your life to get here, mortal?” She asked him, now in a more serious tone.

Then and once again without really knowing why, he began to tell her about his kingdom, about the moments of wealth and prosperity before the war struck, about the deaths and the lack of food that besieged them, making their situation worse. He told her about his brother and his mysterious bedridden illness, about the sudden barrenness of his lands, and how he had preferred to make this trip alone rather than take away much-needed protection in case they tried again to invade them during his absence.

In her face there was no sorrow, annoyance or joy for their misfortunes, instead it was pure curiosity what he could see while he finished explaining the reason why he was looking for her.

"Okay, I'll go with you" she answered with conviction.

He, who had gradually regained mobility to the point where he could now sit up and the waves of heat attacked him insistently, looked at her in surprise, unable to avoid questioning her decision.

"I'll go with you" she confirmed again "However, the starting path is more dangerous than the one you traveled to get here, so you will have to make a full recovery first" She stood up and looked at him “I cannot be away for long, this place depends on me, so I will help your people and leave immediately, it is my only condition”

He watched her, almost denying immediately that he could leave that easily, but he was quick enough to bite his tongue before speaking.

"Okay, then we have a deal" he agreed.

She nodded pleased and stood up, walking away from him and up a tiny hill where she began to press with her fingers the closed buds and the withered flowers that surrounded her, opening and coming back to life with the simple touch of her.

Despite having accepted, in his mind they only danced ways of how he would interrupt her departure, it would be very foolish of him to let her go that easy, a person with her abilities, whether witch or not, was unique, one in a million , and no self-respecting kingdom would let her go that easily.

He could try to convince her by showing her everything that she obviously didn't have in her "garden", the wonders of modernity, and if that couldn't convince her, well, he had dungeons at his disposal that he could trick her into or even without them, but surely he would not lose those abilities from his hands.

Satisfied with that plan, he began to touch the back of both of his hands, searching and removing the splinters that he did not know how he has nailed himself.

Even though Hinata's tonics were helping him recover faster than he normally would, it felt like it was actually taking forever.

There, the days and nights seemed to last longer than normal, as if the clock had 36 hours instead of 24.

Each remedy that Hinata gave her were different and she healed something different, like the one she used to make his bruises disappear, which were a combination of wild flowers and citrus fruits that melted in the water as soon as she created them and released. Those bruises that would normally take a week or more to fade, she had done it in almost three days.

The problem is that she could only give him a tonic for one thing at a time, along with the first one that she had given him so his body relaxes and rests.

Now he was drinking one that she claimed would help with his internal ailments, and he guessed she was referring to the bruised bones that barely allowed her to walk or breathe. This was particularly bitter and she had to take it several times a day, which was a mini torture considering that these wounds would take even longer to heal.

He was washing his armor when he heard her scream.

“No! Go away, you can't be here!”

His skin prickled when she heard it. Had someone entered that place? An ally or an enemy? The great snake that was supposed to be the only one that could make someone else reach that place, Munda, hadn't moved from the rock it had spread on the day before, almost looking dead if it weren't for the hiss it left escape from time to time, maybe someone had found a way to enter without facing the great reptile?

“No! Get away!”

Wasting no time he dropped the piece of armor he was washing into the water and instead grabbed his sword, gripping it tightly and ran - or rather, he limped quickly - looking beyond the trees and bushes until he saw her midnight hair, covered with small flowers of various colors, and he went quickly towards her, who kept her fists clenched and her arms stiff down, slapping the floor with one foot while she kept yelling at whoever was there to leave.

But as he got closer to her, he still couldn't see anyone else; maybe it was some invisible person? It would not be unreasonable to think about that.

Finally, when he got to her side, he saw whoever caused her annoyance.

"This… creature…" she began, making an exasperated gesture with her hand at the wild boar that nonchalantly ate the blackberries from the orchard it raided "This annoying creature won't go away!" I've tried everything but it keeps coming back”

He looked at her in disbelief.

“So much fuss over a wild boar?”

“Is this the name of this demon spawn?” She asked him, looking at him intensely "Do you know him?"

"It's a wild boar, there are hundreds of them in the forest" he said more calmly, dismissing the accusation of her previous question.

“Hundreds?!” She gasped in disbelief.

"Calm down, just ... get rid of him."

“I´ve tried it! But this ... boar keeps coming back”

He let out an exasperated sigh, thinking of suggesting of making her pet snake eat the animal, but dismissed the idea as he thought the reptile was pretty useless when it don´t came to attacking and killing unsuspecting humans and their horses near the plateau of stone.

Since he first woke up he had only seen it move a few inches and change position, so another idea occurred to him.

“Can you hold it?” He asked him “with your ivy?”

She looked at him curiously and suspiciously, but instead of answering vocally, she raised a hand and made a few short movements with her fingers before clenching her fist, catching the animal that began to screech in panic.

He approached it, and with a certain movement, cut off it head.

When he heard her loud gasp he looked back and there she was, her brows furrowed, her eyes staked and both of her hands covering her mouth.

He looked back at the now dead animal, grabbed it head and raised it before asking.

“Do you know fire?”

.

.

.

Sasuke sat on a rock while at the same time bringing the now cooked boar meat to his mouth, biting off a large chunk and tearing it from the rest so he could eat it.

Sitting on another rock on the other side of the bonfire he had made, Hinata found herself with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed, looking at him with such intensity as if she wanted to make his head explode with just her powerful gaze.

She was upset with him, that was clear. Since he had killed the animal and cut its meat into smaller portions so he could stick them into branches and put them on the fire to cook.

The turning point, however, was when he gathered branches and leaves and started the fire that he had surrounded with rocks of different sizes as a barrier so that the fire did not spread.

Apparently, she could forgive him for killing an animal even if she was clearly against it, but lighting wood and using leaves as a burning material was where she drew the line, practically declaring enmity at the prolonged silence she had maintained.

It was funny to tell the truth, even if preparing that meat and the dressing he had bathed it with to give it a little more flavor had been torture for his sprained wrist, it was worth it if I could see her normally relaxed and smiling face distorted with annoyance and disappointment, her lower lip sticking out childishly.

Furthermore, and despite the wide variety of fruits she had been feeding him - more delicious than he had ever eaten - he had really missed the taste of meat on his palate.

“Hey!” He called her even though it wasn't necessary, since she hadn't taken her gaze from him for a second. "Try a little" he said, spreading some meat even though he was too far for her to reach.

That scandalized her.

“I will not do it!” She vigorously refused, looking quite offended by his proposal “I'm not a savage!”

"Me neither" he said, shrugging even though he wanted to burst in laughs at her expression.

“You are eating a living being”

“You eat the children of your plants, but I don't judge you for doing that”

The expression on her face finally overcame him, making him laugh.

With difficulty and care, he rose to his feet and walked around the fire, sitting next to her and extending with his good hand the piece of meat he himself had previously been eating.

"Try a little" he repeated, but she pursed her lips and turned her face away, refusing.

“No, I do not like”

"You can't say you don't like it if you haven't tried it yet" he told her, repeating the words his mother had repeated so much to the fussy eight-year-old he was.

But she kept refusing, so he took another approach they used to use with him when he was especially difficult to feed: negotiation.

"How about this" he began “If you try a little of this, I promise I won't complain and take all your strange meds even if they taste like hell itself, you don't have to like it, just try a little”

She looked at him scrutinizingly, apparently looking for some kind of dishonesty, but he just brought his injured wrist to the center of his abdomen, in a well-camouflaged dirty little manipulative move, which he knew was working when she looked at his wrist and then again to in his eyes.

“Just a little?” He nodded "And will you take the medicine without complaining?" He affirmed again.

Hinata closed her eyes and took a deep breath before letting it out again in the form of a long sigh.

She opened her eyes again, now with a look of determination and nodded.

He smiled and brought the meat to her mouth.

“W-wait!” she yelled, holding his wrist.

He was really having a hard time not laugh again.

Without letting go his wrist, she barely opened her mouth and bit into some of the meat, chewing it and stopping after swallowing it.

He looked at her expectantly, watching as she frowned again and sudden tears began to fall from her eyes.

Was it really that bad?

He began to feel guilty for forcing her to do so, but he was surprised when she now took a bigger bite, taking the meat from his hand to grab it herself, saying between sobs

"It's good!" she sniffed and cried harder as she ate more of it.

________________________

That night he woke up because of the pain that attacked his healthy wrist, grunting and looking for the reason for that, and when he looked at it, he was surprised and out of breath to see how a bracelet of branches wrapped him, which would not be a problem if it was not for the fact that they seemed to come straight out of his skin.

________________________

Another few days passed and he had kept thinking a lot about his situation.

Due to his suspicions, he decided to do an experiment.

For a few days he stayed especially close to her, touching her skin with his fingertips in the most subtle way he could, leading him to offer help during the moments when she did her self-imposed tasks that were not really necessary - there was not much to entertain herself with, he supposed — and despite confusion at his sudden need to help, she agreed and directed him what to do, frustrating him when any of those tasks kept him away from her.

But at the end of the day he touched her enough without going overboard - tapping her shoulder to get her attention or patted it awkwardly as he congratulated her with a "good job" - and then he walked away from her and went to the makeshift cot she had created for him, leaving her more confused than at first.

The first night he waited awake for something to happen, for the branches to start coming out or for his skin to turn green, he wasn't entirely sure what could happen, but he waited.

And he received nothing.

He repeated the experiment several more times and nothing happened, so he thought maybe it was a side effect of the last potion she had given him to drink? It would make sense that his body is no longer producing more vegetation by changing the type of medicine she was giving him, and it would also make sense that she did not know that effect as something out of the ordinary, since her own body seemed to produce by itself the plants that dressed her.

Then he forgot the topic, classifying it as a one-time occurrence.

Until he wasn't.

That morning, when he no longer had any kind of ailment and was beginning to feel he was finally regaining his strength, he had helped Munda - who, he learned, was really peaceful when he was not protecting the entrance to that garden - to get rid of the little debris that had stuck to him after his last shedding of skin.

"Good work," Hinata said, patting him on the shoulder as best she could since he was significantly taller than her “Munda's shedding of skin is usually a disaster because it is more resistant than normal, so I always have a hard time cleaning it when it's in season” she revealed, now with her hand fixed on his shoulder “you are very good at that”

He accepted her congratulations with a small hint of pride on her chest.

They passed the day with normally, and at night, while taking a bath in the lake, a sudden pain attacked his shoulder.

When he tried to move his shoulder in circles, he couldn´t, the pain and stiffness prevented him from the slightest movement, then he brought his other hand over said shoulder to try to massage himself, but when he felt his fingers prick, He stopped.

Surprised, he looked at his shoulder and couldn't believe what he saw: it was covered in thorns right where Hinata had touched it.

The fire of anger ignited in him and spread like forest fire, was that it? Her hands? Were her hands causing his body to produce leaves and thorns as if it were a simple plant? Although, now that he thought about it, he had been a fool not to realize it before, after all, she was nothing more than a witch whose hands could grow trees and flowers out of nowhere.

He had been fooled. He had let his guard down and this witch was turning him into another plant in her garden.

Who many more had she done this to?

He looked at the surrounding trees for the hint that any of them were once a man, but he had done his job so well that there was not the slightest trace of a previous humanity in them.

Angry, he left the lake and put on his pants, not caring they were dirty and dusty from the activities he had done that day. He dressed in his armor and took the sword with him, searching for Hinata and finding her, as always, in the center of the small flower-covered hill that surrounded her.

His quick and heavy steps caught his attention, turning and smiling at him when she saw him approaching, but that expression quickly changed when he entered, stepping carelessly on the flowers that she loved so much.

"Sasuk ..!"

"In two days we will leave," he interrupted, placing the sword under her chin and applying enough pressure so the tip dug lightly into her neck, hurting her “I have already lost a lot of valuable time with your stupid games, as of today, I command”

He turned around without giving her the opportunity to speak and went to the farthest part of that garden, where he found what seemed to be the oldest tree of all, the most leafy, where he sat down and pressed his back against it, crossing his arms with his sword still in his hand, quickly creating in his mind all the logistics of what he would do next.

______________________

The desperate neighing of Onyx woke him up.

He hadn't realized when he had fallen asleep, but it seems as if the apocalypse had taken place once he closed his eyes.

He blinked, trying to clear the blurry view of him until everything was terrifyingly sharp.

In front of him, Onyx kept crying, rising on his hind legs and then dropping the front legs in heavy blows, kicking up the dust with each fall.

It was daytime, he could tell, but the whole environment was so bleak that his brain had a hard time understanding it.

He looked around him, all the space that had previously been green and colorful had turned to the darkest gray he had ever seen. The trees shed their leaves at an impressive speed, the same ones that were now on the ground, surrounding him.

He tried to take one, but the blades were so brittle they broke with the simple touch.

"Onix, take it easy" But the horse ignored him; instead, he whinnied louder as if urging him to stop and then ran, leaving him behind.

He walked carefully, looking everywhere: the bushes were dry but still held some of their fruits, of which he took one and put it in his mouth only to spit it out instantly, disgusted by the horrible taste of the previously delicious blackberry had taken. As he walked, a foul stench began to fill his nostrils, aggravating the closer he got to the lake, until he realized that was where it came from. The waters, previously clean and clear, were now as black and thick as tar.

What was happening?

It didn't take long for him to find the cause.

Still on the small hill was Hinata, motionless and with her head bowed, the flowers around her were wilted. Munda surrounded the hill, making a great circle with its whole body, as trying to be a wall of protection for her owner.

The great snake gave him a warning hiss, glaring at him, now with both of its healthy eyes, as if it was challenging him to come closer.

Even with the threat of the reptile, he did, he knew how protective he was, but he had learned that in here Munda was more like a puppy playing at being brave than the gigantic and terrifying snake really was.

Already within the circle of protection of him everything was more horrible, here the flowers were not withered, and instead they seemed burned. Hinata's body remained immobile, not even seemed to breathe, and when he surrounded her and was face to face with her, he was surprised by the horrible state that in just a few hours she had gotten.

Her skin was as gray as the rest of the earth, her previously pink lips were now dangerously close to black, almost all the flowers in her hair and crown had lost their petals and the ones that remained would fall at any moment. Her eyes were open and she kept them that way, without blinking, and the only sign that told him there was still life in her was the trail of tears that fell without stopping.

He crouched in front of her and called out, but he didn't get the slightest bit of recognition from her.

He grabbed her face and winced at the ease of movement he had from her, even if her body seemed stiffer than could be possible.

Then the dark green trail that fell from her throat to her abdomen caught his eye, and he felt as if he had been hit with the strongest metal as he remembered what he had done.

Was this his fault?

"Hinata," he called her, lifting her face so he could look into her eyes, which seemed to be empty. "Hinata, I'm sorry."

But his attempts were in vain because she did not respond or make the slightest movement that indicated she would do it at some point.

Desperation began to fill him and he didn't know what to do, stroking her face and trying to wipe the tears away, but they kept falling and instead, sliding over and around his thumbs, mocking his unsuccessful attempts to stop them.

Then, in a moment of utter despair he did something he had only thought would happen in his dreams, and kissed her.

His lips froze over the cold, chapped of hers, and all ambient sound that he had previously not actively noticed disappeared. He made no move, just stood with his lips joined, praying inside his mind for a reaction, until her lips trembled.

One sob left them, then two, until it was totally a symphony of wailing.

He hugged her and pressed her to his chest, quietly apologizing to her and preferring to hear her cry than remain in the deathly silence of moments ago.

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

Recovery was slower than he could have imagined. While it took less than one night to produce the disaster, fixing it was a matter of a long time.

She avoided talking to him and he couldn't blame her, not after all that he´d caused.

She was just getting back to her normal color and at the same time so did her garden, slowly returning to the green it was when he had arrived.

He hadn't given her a reason for his action in the first place, and he didn't think he'd do it sometime soon - never, if he could.

He just helped her silently, discovering that when he kissed her, she recovered a little more.

So he kept doing it, morning, afternoon and evening, until the pink on her cheeks appeared and the flowers in her hair began to bloom.

That, however, came at a price, and it didn't take long for him to realize that the mere touch was more powerful than that of her fingers.

It first reflected on his nails, which turned brown and their textures became like that of a tree trunk. Then on his chest, where leaves and thorns came out again.

It was a much faster process than he had thought.

"I think we can leave tomorrow" were the first words she spoke to him after days of silence, smiling shyly at him, speaking in a low voice.

He nodded as best she could, his neck stiff from the changes taking place in him.

That day his feet stuck to the ground, and pulling them off felt as if he had lost a limb.

"Sasuke" Hinata called him the next morning, worried about what she was seeing. "Since when has this been happening?"

He looked at her, but he didn't answer.

He was still lying on his grass cot, trapped by the ivy that had tightly encircled his arms, torso, and legs to keep him in place.

"Wait." The desperation in Hinata's voice was palpable, but he could barely recognize anything.

With her hands, Hinata touched the plants on top of him, but was surprised to see that instead of obeying her and disappearing, they seemed to tighten around Sasuke.

She looked at her hands without understanding what was happening and tried again, her eyes clouding over as she obtained the same result as the first time.

The tears left her eyes and the sobs soon appeared the more she tried and failed, becoming more energetic and miserable with every second more.

"Hinata," he called out, barely a hoarse whisper as he felt a new plant grow from his stomach and slide its roots through his esophagus, slowly exiting his mouth "There is no time for me…”

“Do not!" She shouted shakily" Don't say that!”

“S. Save them ... my people ...” he said, barely breathing.

"I-I will, but-but first ..." A sob interrupted her "you first..."

Sasuke wanted to deny, but he had neither the strength nor the mobility to do so.

"There ... there is ... no time for ... me" he repeated.

“Sasuke”

“Please”

Without finding the words to answer him, she just nodded.

Sasuke smiled and looked at her, grateful as a single tear slid down the side of his face as more roots came out of his mouth.

"Thank you" he said, his voice cracking, closing his eyes, "I lo ..."

But he couldn't finish his sentence, losing the last breath he had and finally letting the roots slide out of his mouth and dig into the ground beneath him.

A heartrending scream came from Hinata's mouth, the loss, for the first time in hundreds of years, completely ripping her apart.

She cried over his body, feeling a pain much worse than that of a few days ago completely invade her, feeling again how she was fainting rapidly.

But she still had one last promise to keep.

Unwilling to leave him, Hinata placed both hands on the ground and gathered all of her strength, screaming as she transferred her power beyond the forest, filling all around with the life that he had come looking for.

The earth shook and great thorny walls rose above all of her garden, joining in the center without closing completely, and leaving a small gap through which the sunlight entered.

Exhausted, she walked to where Sasuke's body lay covered in roots and she dropped down beside him, placing a hand on his chest, slowly closing her eyes and melting into him.

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

From the highest tower of the Uchiha castle, the cries of the courtesans invaded the room of King Itachi, whose body was covered by a white sheet as his court surrounded him.

"You did it, my king," Kakashi whispered, watching from the window as the kingdom began to fill with the vivid green of the growing plants and the colorful buds of flowers and fruit that followed them, though his attention was really fixed on the large bud that it had formed in the farthest part of the forest.

While, at the gates of the kingdom, Onyx the steed without his king arrived.

@sasuhinamonth

[mintvender]

BTS’s Reaction to Y/N’s Wound/Scar

After raiding the palace

Harem!Au

Warnings: slightest suggestiveness in Jimin’s, slight angst

Masterlist

Kim Taehyung

Since he was a part of the raid, and one of the strategic planners of it, he was confused when he heard of the news. Everything should have been going as the original plan so what had happened that Y/N was put into harm? He hurriedly ran to your side to examine Y/N’s wounds. Turned out, the emperor managed to scratched your forearm during your fight but thankfully it was not life threatening yet still made Taehyung mad. Frustrated at himself for miscalculating the possibility but you managed to coaxed him out of such a depressing headspace by offering to spend time with him later. And with that, the young lad was back to his bubbly self.

When you guys were having your ‘date’, he would try to be as close to you as possible, constantly invading your personal space but that was normal when interacting with him. You guys would end up cuddling up to each other, with him lying on your other arm to avoid the wounded arm as you both stay there for seemingly hours, bathing in each other warmth, not caring if others misjudge your affection towards one another. During those hours, he would constantly promise you that he will never repeat those mistakes in the future. You can subtly sense his slight shivers as his voice began to crack as he still could not believe what could have happen if you were not as agile; his lifesaver, benefactor, and the love of his life might not be here if they were t— Before he could believe that, Y/N stopped him with their calm hums and gentle smile, comforting him by telling him that they believe him.

“ Y/N, I am so sorry. This will never happen in the future, I will make sure of it.”

Kim Namjoon

During the entire raid, Namjoon stayed in his residence waiting for his cue to appear as he was also a part of the plan. Unfortunately, before he could even see the cue, a soldier ran into his office startling him. Turn out, multiple members were injured and need his help. Sighing, he quickly stand up and rushed to get the materials needed. He then ushered the soldier outside to bring more people to help him carry his stuff. As soon as the soldier return, they immediately headed off to the fields.

When he got there, he almost rolls his eyes with the amount of the wounded. What made him did not do so, was when he spotted a reflection of a familiar blade. He looked over to see Y/N sitting on the floor, wrapping their injured arm with bandages. Namjoon wanted to rush over there to help them but he knew that they would refuse his help, claiming that there were many others that were at a more critical state. With that in mind, he decided to get to work, trying to increase his pace to go to you faster. He along with many medical members of the organization did their absolute best, and within an evening, they were done with all the patients— except for you that is.

Namjoon was the first person to volunteer treating you and was happily on his way to do so since the rest of the medical helpers were too exhausted to protest. He arrived at your new room inside the palace that was clearly cleaned with how different it looked compared to when the Min emperor had occupied it. This time, Y/N accepted his help and he quickly got to work, applying various herbs onto the wound. As he continue to do so, they made little conversation to help pass the time and by the time Namjoon finished, they were both content with the amount of time they had spend together.

“ Y/N, this is Namjoon. I am here to apply medicine on your wounds.”

Jung Hoseok

As he did not know about the raiding plan that his father had revealed that he was a part of, he did not know who you were. The first time he saw you was after the raid, with you sitting on the throne, with a wounded arm? His father offered one of his best physician but was denied by you, claiming that you were fine. Meanwhile, here he was, standing behind his father not knowing what to do. When you had asked his father about him, he happily introduced you both, subtly hinting that Hoseok was gifted to you. Knowing that he was getting abandoned and into a tyrant’s hand, we wanted to protest but decided not to, knowing that it is useless. Much to his surprise, you requested to have a private meeting and of course his father happily accepted on his behalf.

The morning after such an eventful day, Hoseok realized that he was standing in front of your resting chamber, waiting for permission to enter. Unlike his normal happy self, he could barely stand on his legs without them shivering like crazy. When the time came to enter your chamber, he expected it to be filled with expensive decoration but was met with one, in which was simpler than his. Y/N was currently sitting against a large table next to their bed, working on some paperwork. When they saw him, they unexpectedly smile, shocking him in the process. You gestured him to come closer to you until you both were sat opposite of each other. As he come closer to you, he noticed that you kept holding your injured arm— as if you were protective of it. Amidst the moment, he asked if he could help you apply medicine. You were suprised but didn’t denied. That was the beginning of your great relationship. And by the time he left your chamber, the thought of being married to you did not seem so heartbreaking.

“ M-m... may I assist you in applying your medicine?”

Min Yoongi

The moment he saw you ended his father’s disgusting life, he was devoted to you, determined to pay you back. Unfortunately, many considered him to be threatening the safety of the mission so he was not able to work and as a result, forced to be in a courtyard for the remaining of his years; well that was what he thought, at least. This, however change, when you both met each other again the evening after the successful raid. Turned out, Y/N went to offer him an opportunity to secure his safety and lifestyle. Before Y/N could even reveal what they were talking about, Yoongi nods his head immediately; he even begged you to take him under your wing. Y/N was bewildered by how fast Yoongi had accepted and offer him to go somewhere else more private to talk. Yoongi immediately opened up and told you that he wanted to repay you for getting him out of his father’s grasp but didn’t know how to do so. The poor boy was getting so distressed that his eyes couldn’t help themselves to turn into a waterfall. Y/N tried to comfort him but they realized that no amount of comfort would be better than to let it all out— the dam that the poor prince had build up for himself had collapsed by the tough water tides. So Y/N did th enter best thing and hug him/

It took some time for Yoongi to calm down in Y/N’s arm but when he was finally able to, he noticed that Y/N’s left arm was profusely bleeding. During his breakdown, he had desperately hold onto that arm and unfortunately worsen its condition. Y/N, however, managed to assure him before he get another breakdown. The poor prince didn’t know how to treat a wound so he resulted in profusely apologize to them. Y/N quickly shook their head, assuring him, but Yoongi was not convince. Unexpectedly, he reached for their arm and slowly blow on it to help get rid of some of the pain. He kept doing that, while kneeling on the ground. He only stoped when his legs were beginning to ache but was still somewhat unsatisfied and made Y/N to update him on their recovering process. That was the only incident that Y/N had seen him this vulnerable in public and is glad that he feels comfortable enough to be vulnerable around them.

“ Y-y-you are bleeding. It was my fault that you got worse. Let me help you ease the pain... you’re my savior after all.”

Jeon Jungkook

It was a few weeks after you guys successfully took over the castle and everything was seemingly falling into their space. Jungkook was happy by your side away from the rest of the soldiers who were constantly either pitying him or mock him because of his lineage. At least with you, no one would dare to speak without thinking first and he was overjoyed to finally be able to relax. To him, you were a very strange person; how can you be so wise yet kind to a nobody like him? There were many times that you would burden yourself to teach him about strategic planning, yourself. Why would the ruler teach their own bodyguard? As much as he find this fact strange, he noticed that every time you raised your left arm to high, your posture would be a little too stiff. After a few sessions and a lot of planning, he finally decided to ask you about your arm. Y/N answered while looking at him, quietly scanning his expression to see his horrified face? Seeing that he had no idea, you began to explain the details and by the end, he looked to much like a bunny that you couldn’t help but chuckle.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was shock by the information that was just given to him. Of course getting injured during a battle was normal but how did he not know this, he was their bodyguard and did not know that his master was injured? He quickly told himself that he was yet their bodyguard at that time but that quickly was forgotten as he he got mad at himself for not being observant enough. Jungkook then told them that there was no need for them to continue teaching him when they were in this stage. You then quickly assured him that you were fine but decided that it was not worth the effort when you saw his determined expression. With that said, Jungkook bowed to you and quickly exited the room, going to see Namjoon for more medicine.

“ Your highness, there is no need for you to overexert yourself for me. Please take more time to rest and get back to perfect condition as soon as possible.”

Kim Seokjin

Since he did was not present in the first few months of the newly renovated nation, he definitely did not expect for you to have a scar on your forearm. With your kingdom’s regular clothing, both your arms were on displayed for the world to see but Seokjin was secretly possessive of that. Anyways, you guys were bonding each other at a rather fast pace so it did not suprised anyone when you invited him over to your courtyard; Seokjin was ecstatic and began to brag about it to the servants that he had brought with him. When the time came to meet you, he put on one of his best outfit and headed out the door and practically prancing towards your courtyard. Unfortunately before he got to examine you, all he saw was an ugly scar on your forearm; he would have fainted if it wasn’t for his strong will of staying strong. He then summoned his servants to run back and get the best mediocre from his luggage while yelling at you for being so careless.

When the servant was about to apply the medicine, he interrupted, insisting that he could do it, himself resulting in a big mess on your already chaotic-looking arm. Begrudgingly he handed the bottle to the servant to let them take care of you when you jokingly comment about his obevious overusage of medicine. Unexpectedly, his face was burning up from embarrassment but he feigned ignorance to that even after you teased him. Not wanting to be a victim of your teasing, he decided to yelled at you for your carelessness and asked who had harm you. After he found out that it was the former king, he frustratedly huff as he could no longer do anything to the dead man but when poor Taehyung got mentioned, he decided that it was his mission to make sure Taehyung would never repeat the same mistake again. Poor Taehyung, after feeling so guilty, he is now getting yelled at by another country’s merchant who is unfortunately older than him; at least, he could go to you for comfort.

“ YAH! What were you thinking fighting that wretched bastard alone. Were you out of your mind??? Answer me, Y/N!”

Park Jimin

It was once of those nights where Jimin was constantly teasing you with his requests flirts. This time, however, he somehow managed to slip into your chamber and was laying on your oh-so comfortable bed when you entered the room. You were planning to continue brainstorming some plans but it seems that this particular warm night was not in your favour. There he was, lying suggestively on your bed with a knowing look. Unfortunately, you were not in the mood and decided to dismiss him before letting yourself plopped on the sit and tried to work. Jimin, however, did not listen to your command and was heading towards you. He sneakily sat in fron tof you and looked at you prettily. That was when you admitted that, whoever had trained him did a great job in making him manipulated. With that in mind, you absentminded said that out loud causing the boy’s expression to immediately drop, his posture went stiff, and his eyes no longer held the flirtiness from before. Thinking that he would leave after such comment, you turned yoru attention back to yoru pile of papers but was once again interrupted by a painful force on your cheek that forced your head to follow the force’s direction. You instinctly placed your hand on your cheek at looked at Jimin, suddenly you realized what had happen. He had just slapped you.

The atmosphere in the room was getting tenser as the moment continue to prolong; with Jim angrily glaring at you and yourself not being able to hide your surprised expression. He then yelled at you for saying such disrespectful words to his teacher but you quickly yelled back, provoking him even more. He continued to yell at you while you follow right after; you did not know why he was so angry, it was clear that his mentor’s teachings were wrong. Before you could try to explain their actions to him, Jimin suddenly froze in his spot, his eyes stared into yours, surprised. One moment you can see him stare at you, unmoving, the next you can see him on the floor to not hit him. Confused, you crouched down and hugged him, apologing for your precious rash actions. You, however, were not going to let his previous pass; who had hit him? When he was able to calm down a bit, you decided to ask him.

At first, he looked very reluctant but ultimately decided that it would be best. He then explained everything; from how much hate he got from his family for being a male, to getting send to a boarding school to help train him to be the perfect husband, and convince him that beating him was a way to help discipline him. By the end of Jimin’s heartbreaking story, you were fuming with rage but decided that it was not the best time. During the process, you noticed that he continued to fidget in his spot and constantly scratch his expose skin which were littered with scars; he usually were long sleeves but decided that today was an exception. You worried that he would end up hating his body and to confirm that hypothesis, you asked him and the answer was what you had expected. You then decided to show him the scar that you had accumulated during the fight with the emperor. slowly explained to him that this was a part of you, and made who you are today; that even if it was not pretty, it made you. You would go back and forth between those sentences to make sure that he understand your purpose. But before he can say anything, you also offer him a chance to erase faint scars or help fade ones that he hated. In the moment, Jimin smiled at your caring actions and replied that he will think about it. Satisfied with the answer, you then let him cuddle up to you until the early dawn had cracked the midnight sky. Now you are proud to say that Jimin is slowly getting more confidant in his body.

“ You also have them? Why do you keep showing them off? It’s a part of you? What does that mean? Do you think that I can be like you?”

Copyright © 2021 Mintvender

All rights reserved.

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Shrinking Violet 1.0

Going through old drafts and discovered my original idea for this g/t oneshot here. It refused to be written and since I was on a time-crunch, I went with the final result, but I frankly enjoy this version better.

-

Virgil is a reclusive Giant who keeps to himself in the Woods. Very grouchy, independent. One day he stumbles into a human mage named Patton who is collecting materials for his spells. He expects Patton to run in fear or attack him, but instead he's friendly. 

Virgil is a major Grump anyway, despite helping Patton gather a material. Patton and Virgil begin meeting in the Woods, just to talk. Patton loved getting swung about by Virgil or carried on his shoulders. Patton had to always crane his neck to make eye contact with the Giant. 

One day, Virgil doesn't go to their meeting spot. Patton calls his name, but he doesnt come. He doesn't contact Virge with the special necklace he made either. Patton keeps coming back, but the Giant is no longer there. Patton is worried and goes deeper in the forest than he usually does. He runs into trouble with some wolves (?) where Virgil jumps in and protects him. 

Virgil then goes on a rant about how incredibly stupid Patton is, but Patton is too distracted by the fact that he doesn't have to crane his neck quite as far as usual. 

"Virgil, did you shrink?"

"..."

Apparently there is a hereditary curse rampant among Giants called the Shrinking Curse. Rumored to have been cast by a powerful mage in revenge for a dispute long since forgotten. It's why Virgil lives alone. It started affecting him a way younger age than most Giants. Basically he will keep shrinking and shrinking, until he's microscopic. No one really knows what happens after that--usually people die before that stage. 

Patton declares he's gonna help Virgil, despite the Giant insisting there's no way to cure it. Virgil had started hiding from Patton after getting scared realizing how close he'd grown to Patton and afraid of the other's reaction (spoiler alert Patton still loves him anyway).

They resume their meeting spot routine as Patton sets to work researching. The unfortunate thing is that Giants generally keep to themselves and seldom interact with humans and other species. Thus there's few books on Giants to begin with. Virgil still spins Patton around, but it gradually becomes harder and harder. 

Patton grows more worried as Virgil is no longer taller than the trees and can't fight off wolves with the flick of his finger. Virgil insists he's okay, he's alright. One day, Patton's necklace lights up.

"Virgil, are you alright?!"

"N-no."

Patton finds Virgil slumped against a tree, shivering and injured. Patton nearly cries when he realizes he can easily carry Virgil in his arms. With Virgil semi-coherent it becomes easily apparent how small Virgil has become. He is only shorter than Patton by an inch or two, but still! Nothing compared to his towering height as a giant.

 Patton takes Virgil back to his home. He nurses Virgil back to health and suggests the shrunken giant should move in with him. This sparks an argument with Virgil stomping back into the woods. A few days later Virgil shows up at the door reluctantly. 

Patton and Virgil visit the human city when Virgil is still about human size, and Virgil marvels a bit. 

Patton starts asking around for other wizards, asking if they have any information on the Shrinking Curse. Meanwhile Virgil gets good at climbing, still brushing off most help as he desperately clings onto any piece of autonomy he can. Virgil hates being carried so Patton does his best to remember that. 

One day, he gets mistaken for a dwarf and angrily chews that person out. That person, upon hearing his true origins as a Giant doesn't laugh. Instead they say they know a Wizard who can help. The only thing is, he lives in the Capitol which is a long day's journey from where they are on outskirts of the Kingdom. Patton is up for it, although Virgil is terrified of all the dangers they could face--dangers he can no longer protect Patton from.

They embark on the Journey as Virgil's condition worsens. He's declining at a more rapid rate. Patton does whatever he can to get to the Capitol the quickest, even if it's a hefty sum. Virgil finds this out and chastises him for spending so much, insisting he's not worth it but Patton insists he is. 

By the time they reach the Wizard, Virgil is small enough to fit inside Patton's cloak pocket. 

Patton visits the Wizard Logan and asks about his rumored hand in reversing the curse. Logan assumes Patton is the shrunken giant. 

"I'm afraid you're mistaken," Patton draws a breath in, "I'm not here on my behalf, but on my bestest friend in the whole wide world."

"Where is he? I cannot help if he is a great distance away--"

Patton pulls Virgil out his pocket. Virgil who is a whole five inches tall and terrified. He wonders how Patton could be so brave if he looked as imposing as Logan. Logan whose eyes widen in shock. Who has never seen a giant shrink this small before. He goes on an excited rant, before Virgil yells at him to quit it, asking if he can just get on with reversing the spell and bring him back to his original height.

Logan looks saddened, "I'm afraid you're mistaken, I know how rumors tend to circle but, I myself cannot reverse the spell in its' entirety. I can only "freeze" it so to speak. I can stop it from progressing any further."

"I'm--I'm stuck this way?"

"Yes, but it'd keep the curse from progressing and killing you." Poor Virgil has a bit of a mental breakdown from this. He does accept Logan's help. But he's unusually quiet and sullen. Depressed, doesn't want to eat. Patton tries having a talk with him.

"Virgil, I understand--"

"No you don't! You don't understand what it's--it's like! To go from the biggest thing to the smallest thing in the world. If a normal giant came across me, I'd be nothing but a puny ant to them. They could easily squish me with their foot without even knowing!"

Virgil accuses Patton of seeing him as a pet, continuing to say awful things, because the only weapon he has are words. He's crying and screaming, wanting Patton to yell back--to finally squeeze Virgil until he can no longer breathe.

"Why aren't you doing something? Why--why do you care about me?!"

Patton explains he loves Virgil regardless of his stature. Virgil cries, finally acquiescing to being in Patton's embrace for more than just practical use. As the tale draws to a close, Virgil starts growing again.

[greekbros]

"greek-Bros: The Return of an Old Enemy"

Chapter 8: A Sour Deal

After a full day of preparation, training and anything that shouldn't take less than 24 hours to do, the "Dionysian Games" were ready as soon as the sun rose. Which is when Apollo discovered, his brother was at it again.

Apollo rode his chariot arcross the sky, toting the sun along for the day to begin. To him it was just part of his daily schedule, as he glanced over, looking down on Delphi. "Wait a minute....isn't it early in the year for the games to start?", the thought stewed in his head for only a few seconds when it suddenly dawned on him the Olypmic games, in deed DID NOT, take place in Delphi. He looked down and was shocked to see that Dionysus broke his promise, "as soon as I'm done with the sun, I'm going to give Dionysus the dressing down of the millennia!", he angrily told himself.

Back in Delphi, the Delphians were preparing for the games. The teams have been set up into 5 large groups, in Delphian fashion, no can tell which team is which. Being a mock-Olympics game, there was nothing to worry about representing a country or anything, so it was just harmless fun. There was no prizes outside of bragging rights.

Meanwhile, Dionysus attempts to get a hold of Ares for the joust. Communication between the gods was always complicated considering that the gods communicate better humans than they do themselves. In Dionysus's case, the best way to get in touch with Ares...was to get him to come to you via the most complex ritual involving two of his favorite things: Aphrodite and dogs. He knows for the best results, he had to do the ritual in private.

Dionysus prepares the ritual at an effigy made to resemble Ares he had created the night before. As it turns out he woke up in morning remembering that he hadn't even talked to Ares about the joust. Using a small puppy he borrowed from one of the farmers and a plate of extra rare steaks, lights some candles and places a sensual picture of Aphrodite. ".....Come on Ares. Come out.", Dionysus spoke to the effigy, he waited a few seconds for anything to happen but nothing did. "Oooookie dokie, I'm just going to "enjoy" myself with this really sexy picture of Aphrodite", Dionysus taunted the effigy hoping it would get his attention. He takes the picture of Aphrodite and slowly hovers it near his groan, as he was about to even let the picture touch, the loud thunderous sound of an explosion echos outside of his winery shed. "Aaaaaand just in time." he grinned from ear to ear, now with the star of his joust just outside his door, he could finally get the event going. He walks to the door, opens it and sees Ares nearly towering over him with the biggest frown he's given so far.

Ares quickly gabbed the photo from Dionysus. "Ok you fat fuck what do you want?" He growled. He looked behind Dionysus to see the crudly made effigy, pushed him aside to at least eat some steak and make sure the dog was ok.

Dionysus didn't expect much from Ares outside of agreeing to joust. "So buddy, ugh I was wondering....you don't having any plans this afternoon do you?" Dionysus nonchalantly asked. He turned to see Ares chewing on the steak with his bear hands while sharing his steak with the puppy. "I know you're ugh.... busy man....but I know you're going to.love this." He continued.

Ares wasn't much for Dionysus's brand of fun unless it resulted in copious amounts of bloodshed. In fact, most of the time when he would come to Dionysus, it was mostly to get wine or get drunk before certain battles. He was skeptical, but than again there really wasn't any current wars he could participate. It had seemed the entire country was focused on other matters, so indeed he was very much bored. "Wut is it?" He spoke with a full mouth.

Dionysus grinned, "well... would you like to joust with me? For my little 'games'? I mean, I know it isn't much....buuuuuut the people will love it."

Ares was interested but not convinced yet. A joust wasn't going to satisfy him enough, there had to be more to it. "Ok....what's in it-", he swallows his mouthful of steak,"- for me?", He asked as took another bite of meat, giving a little piece to the puppy again.

Scratching his head at what could Ares possibly want, "well...I know that if I win...I just win. After all, the audience likes it when the local god wins right?", Dionysus bargained. "I mean, it's not much but that all depends on what you want, big guy.", he knew Ares wouldn't be creative enough to want something outside of anything material or in some cases bragging rights.

Ares paused to think of the best way to painful screw Dionysus over. He thought of how Dionysus prided himself for his wine, but what was a god of wine going to do with wine. He remembered Dionysus's love for his big cats, he could always get Dionysus to kill his precious leopards, but no....he wants something far more precious. "How about this...." he lightly scratched the puppy behind it's ears, "...if I win, I get to be the local god and keep Delphi, you stand down...aaaaaand I fuck your wife.", he said through a menacing smile.

The mischievous grin that Dionysus sported had died into a panicked look, "wait wait hold on man, this is for fun." he responded hastily. Never would he have expected Ares to actually name such conditions. "Seriously, you can't just take my town and my wife if you win, that's....just fucked up....plus NO, I refuse to agree to those terms.....", Dionysus was flustered, what started out as an innocent challenge between brother quickly escalated into something a little more mean spirited.

Ares stood there looking at Dionysus, mildly disappointed that he wouldn't agree to what he believed was completely reasonable terms, "ok whatever drama queen, than I'm leaving.", he walked out of the shed. "Fucking wasting my time with your little circus act and shit. I mean I thought you liked having fun, whatever I guess you're too much of a pussy." he continued.

As much as the ownership of Delphi, the safety of the residents and his wife's honor was at stake, he couldn't just let Ares walk out from the joust. He didn't care about why or what Ares thought of him in the second, he was already too deep into the situation given not only he was not allowed to sleep in his own bed until after the Dionysia, but he disappointed Ariadne with his stubborn attitude. "Hold on, ok if you're going to play "Mr.Edgelord", than if I win......I become the new god of war aaaaaand...you have to wear a dress....for an hour and I will NEVER let anyone forget that", unlike the rest of the brothers, Ares was too prideful of his masculinity to ever wear a dress and the idea of his title as "The God of War" would also be a stake. This was too juicy of a bet. Dionysus's whole world was either going to include the chaotic attributes of war....or he was going to lose everything.

In mid-step, Ares turned around, his button has definitely been pushed, but the challenge was too irresistible. "Now you're talking fun.". He walked up to Dionysus, took his arm and gave it a sportsmen's shake. "Fine, I'll join your little circus. When...and where?", he stared down Dionysus hoping to throw him off even before the joust.

Dionysus wasn't really sure what Ares was doing and why was he staring at him for so long, but now he had to put up some effort in the joust, perfect for a performance. "Ha, you're on...just ugh go over there in the meantime...chill...I don't know it will be hours before we do it.", he informed. He pointed at tent in a field that was overlooked by the winery shed, it was prepared for the participants of the games, which was loaded with all the essentials any Dionysian needed.

Glaring at the overly lavished tent on the field, then his glance glazes over the rest of the field, it really was a bit like a circus. Ares takes a deep breath, rethinking if it would be worth winning given he will have to wait for a few hours before the joust, than be remembers he gets to turn this land into a training ground for an army fit for a king. "Ok.....do...you have anything I can do?", he asked.

He looked at Ares and said in a serious tone, "if you're planning on lifting bro, you're shit out of luck....you can....drink, you can.....fuck.....you can......eat.....you can take naps.....some of the folks are doing improv....I mean THATS something you do....I don't know. Just....relax or something.", Dionysus knew nothing worsened Ares's mood then a lack of exercise and anything he liked. "Aaaalso there is only wine.", he added. If Ares was going to be serious about his wager, he needed to insure that Ares was going to lose.

"Dude...that's ..... fucking lame.....I'm just going to take laps, can't wait to fuck your wife.", Ares left without saying another word. Dionysus was a bit floored, but the day was young and there was plenty of time to make sure he would win the joust. He was about to run to find some of his more "violent" maenads when he heard someone shout his name from the field.

"DIONYSUS YOU ARE NOT GOING TO FUCKING BELIEVE THIS!", it was Hermes, he ran through the field, up the hill passing Ares (who apparently didn't even notice him) and right up to Dionysus. "Ok holyshit you're never going to guess what me and Artemis found a few days ago! I was going to tell you about it but I had to find dad and I can't find him than I had to run around Greece looking for him an-" he felt Dionysus placing his hand on his head in attempts to calm him down.

Dionysus unfortunately wasn't in the mood to hear Hermes, but he was in the mood to ask him for help. "Hermes.......I've made a horrible miscalculation.", he told him, looking at Ares angrily uses a log to do bench presses. ".....I got what I wanted...but my....fucking self....I am in quite a pickle.".

Hermes was still processing all he has been doing the past four days, but somehow he had to know what happened. ".....what....are you talking about?", he calmly asked. He looked at the field, than looked at Ares, than he looked at Dionysus. "Why is there a circus in front of your house?", he can see Dionysus's face.

Taking a deep breath, "Hermes do you remember that time I joked about the idea of me and Ares.... jousting or something?", Dionysus asked.

"ugh....yes I think.", Hermes was now starting to worry if there is something even worse than semi-immortal wolf people. "But seriously man there's some weird fucked up things happening.", he continued.

Dionysus chuckled a little, "well....I hope you're ok with cheating. I really need your help.", he looked at Hermes in hopes he knows he serious. Hermes however, whom just arrived, is getting a terrible feeling there will be hijinks.

End of Chp8

[themonotonysyndrome]

A Chance Meeting?

Not gonna lie, I didn’t expect that ‘Our Intertwine Dream’ would receive a lot of positive attention. I’m happy that a lot of people enjoyed my whimsical indulgence and that the damn tags worked for once. 

Anyway, this is a continuation of my previous Twisted Wonderland fic and I’ll post this in AO3 tomorrow. In this one, we’ll explore more of Silver’s unusual predicament and how the people around him react to it. It’s, uh, a bit long so please bear with me. Also, I still can’t believe we’re gonna get Lilia and Silver’s cards today! I can’t wait to learn more about these two!! 

-

“Tsunotarou-senpai? Are you here to see the headmaster, too?” 

Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, Malleus slowly open his eyes and turn his head to greet the young odd, magic-less human. His little feline friend is sleeping deeply in his arms. 

He hides a smile when Yuu jog towards him without hesitation or fear. 

“No. I’m waiting for Lilia and Silver to finish up in there.” Malleus answer, gesturing to the headmaster’s office with his head. When Yuu’s smile drops into a frown, the Unseelie Prince allows the boy to collect himself first; no doubt he and the rest of the student body has questions. 

“Oh... Is Silver-senpai alright now?” Yuu carefully asks, he heard what happened to Silver and how no one - not even the headmaster - could wake him up during his four days slumber. Because of his relations with Malleus, his absence was quickly noticed when not only did he failed to show up for classes, no one saw him with Malleus’ group for days. Gossips soon erupt like a wildfire; everyone wondered if the Second Year student was seriously ill until whispers about how Lilia and the headmaster couldn’t rouse Silver from his sleep came from a couple of Diasomnia’s students. No one knows what really happened to Silver; not even Sebek knows the full detail. 

Malleus shakes his head. “We’re not certain. Lilia took care of Silver as soon as he woke up and they went to see Headmaster Crowley once classes are finish.” As soon as they realised that something was wrong with Silver, Malleus step up to sort out their dorm’s affairs while Lilia watched over him, researching with the headmaster on how to wake him up. 

Fortunately for him, there wasn’t a lot for Malleus to do; everyone in Diasomnia handled themselves quite well when news of Silver’s ‘illness’ spread throughout the college. It was as if they had all had taken an unspoken agreement to not bothered their leader and vice leader. 

“I hope that Silver-senpai will feel better soon...” Yuu said, when Grim begin to mutters in his sleep, he carefully adjusts the cat in his arms so he could be more comfortable. 

Just then, the door swing opens and Headmaster Crowley pokes his head out. 

“Ah, just the student I wanted to look for! Won’t you step in for a moment, Mr.Draconia? We just need to wrap up our discussion and then I’ll be right with you, Mr.Yuu.” The headmaster said. 

Yuu flashes him a thumbs up. “No problem, sir. I can wait.” 

“Excellent! Now, Mr.Draconia, if you’d be so kind...” Headmaster Crowley push opens the door wide with a flourish and bows for Malleus. 

“I’ll see you later Tsunotarou-senpai! Please give my regards to Silver-senpai and Lilia-senpai!” 

Malleus nods once - curious when his collar reveals marks that resemble tiny suction cups littering his neck when the boy politely bow - and enters the office with Headmaster Crowley promptly close the door behind him. Seated in front of the desk are Lilia and Silver. Despite how relaxed Lilia appears with both of his legs stretch out, Malleus easily caught his displeasure and worries with the way gloved fingers are gripping the armrests. Beside him, Silver’s shoulders are rigid and clear signs of exhaustion and confusion are brewing in his eyes.

“How was class? The kids?” Lilia inquired when Malleus took the vacant chair beside him.

“Everything’s fine.” Malleus states. “Rumours of Silver’s absence is still circulating the campus but it’s nothing we can’t manage.” 

“Indeed. According to several of my teaching staff, Silver-san’s peers and most of Diasomnia’s students are doing well not to add fuel to the fire. I applaud your sense of leadership Draconia-san, Vanrouge-san.” Headmaster Crowley slips into his seat to resume their discussion. 

Silver blows a frustrated sigh. “I’m sorry for causing everyone so many problems. I... I never thought that my condition could worsen like this.”

“To be fair, no one could predict this.” Lilia cuts in with a comforting smile. Malleus didn’t comment on how it falters for a split second when Silver looks away.

“Vanrouge-san makes an interesting point.” Headmaster Crowley ruminates as he rubs his chin with gold-tipped claws. “According to the records we have, this is the first incident that Silver-san slept for days straight. I wonder what could be the cause...” 

“I’ve always had a problem with sleeping but it was never this bad. Even back at home.” Silver grouse. When he realised that he just let out a huge yawn, he blinks in surprise before sighing. 

“And it seems despite sleeping for four days, it wasn’t a peaceful rest.” Headmaster Crowley commented, behind the mask his eyes are scrutinising Silver. “No matter what the teachers and I did, it took Vanrouge-san and Draconia-san’s combined efforts to woke you up.” 

It appears that Lilia didn’t inform Silver of that fact judging by his startle expression. 

“Malleus-sama had to use his magic on me...?” 

“Mm,” Malleus confirmed. “Lilia and I had to slip into your dream and I used my magic to pushed him towards your consciousness when we understood that you reacted well to his voice.” 

Silver hung his head low, as if in shame. “I even bothered Malleus-sama...” 

Malleus narrows his eyes at Silver’s bitter tone, slowly growing confused at his behaviour. Lilia interjected when neither he nor Headmaster Crowley said anything.  

“It wasn’t your fault, Silver. As I said, no one could’ve foreseen something like this happening.” The Unseelie Fae consoles the troubled Silver. Lilia’s smile is finally genuine when Silver’s lips quirk up when he patted his hand. “Now then, did you managed to find anything on why Silver couldn’t wake up?” 

Malleus could count on one hand when it comes to creatures that he would accede to; his parents, grandmother and Lilia. Though each of them for various reasons, he respects Lilia not only for raising him but also for what the ancient Fae represent. Powers that come from lost knowledge, confidence from crushing haughty Seelie Fairies as a pastime and experiences gained from many passing seasons. All hidden behind mischievous smiles and an unassuming demeanour.

And as they continue to discuss what had induced Silver into a temporary coma, Malleus easily differ to Lilia’s ability to take reign on any situation so seamlessly like a king with his court. Even the headmaster nods along to the possibilities listed by Lilia. 

“A spell is a strong possibility.” Headmaster Crowley hums in agreement. He had been writing down their theories and the possibilities raised by Lilia in a journal while Silver and Malleus listen on silently. “The tricky part is finding out just what sort of spell that was cast.”

“...And who the caster is.” Lilia is all smiles and pleasantly agreeable, but there was something dark that touched his tone. Silver might’ve missed it but not Malleus. Never Malleus. 

The headmaster claps his hands once. “Very well then. I will request several of your teachers to help me on my research on the spell that was cast on young Silver here.” 

Silver ducks his head but Lilia presses on. 

“And we’ll make sure this... incident won’t happen again.” Only Lilia could say something that’s cross between a promise and a threat, all the while flashing a teasing wink at a huffing Silver. 

By the time they made their way back to the dorm, Malleus mentally inclines his head to not only Lilia’s masterful way at sorting out the talk with Headmaster Crowley, but also cheer Silver up to his usual charming self. Lavender eyes roll at his corny jokes that had Silver looking away so Lilia couldn’t see his shy, happy smiles when he did manage to get him to laugh. 

“So... is it safe for me to sleep again so soon or...?” Silver asks once the three of them are in his room. He was the first to take a seat on his bed, follow by Lilia soon after once he removes his heavy coat.

Lilia fondly ruffles Silver’s hair who in turn, did his best not to frown at the childish treatment. “Go ahead and try to sleep tonight. Malleus will be putting spells in your dreams to keep intruders out once you’ve fallen asleep and ah… hang on...” He trails off and starts to fiddle with his leather belts to unclasp one of the spools of threads. Every Diasomnia students carry with them magical spools of threads and a small pack of needles on their dorm uniform to represent their allegiance to the Witch of Thorns. Some use the threads as a conduit for spell castings while others - mostly the younger students - enjoy pranking their friends with it. 

Oh! Though there is a Fourth Year student who often receive commissions for soft plushies since he likes to sew them. From what Silver has heard, they are sewn with his own magic threads and rare stuffing materials that it bestowed each soft toys the magical ability to copy and stored the owner’s happiest memory. When someone touches or cuddle with the toys, they will relive that memory as if it happened just yesterday.  

Lilia pulls a lengthy green thread from the spool and nips it with his fangs before gesturing Silver to extend his dominant hand which he did so wordlessly. “I’ve enchanted this particular spool of thread for the younger, rowdy Diasomnia students who tend to injure themselves whenever they practised magic unsupervised.” He explains, deftly tying the thread around Silver’s pinky finger. “This thread can only be destroyed when the person carrying it is hurt and will alert me of their whereabouts.” 

“That’s a powerful spell...” Silver mutters, eyeing the thread carefully. It’s barely noticeable and weights almost nothing.  

“I can teach you if you like,” Lilia promises and jumps out of the bed to slip his coat back on. “But that’s for another day. Would you like to join us for dinner or - ”

Silver shakes his head. He had enough of people staring at him when he and Lilia went to the headmaster’s office. “I’m not really hungry. A couple of my classmates came by to give me some homework that’s due this week. Might as well get a start on it.” 

Lilia accepts this and fusses over Silver a little more - fluffing his pillows, spellchecks his finished homework and even rummaging his cupboard to see if he did his laundry - before he and Malleus left soon after, much to Silver’s immense relief. 

It’s dinner time and huddled around a table in the cafeteria are Yuu and the rest of his First Year friends eating together. Yuu, Grim, Ace and Deuce caught Jack and Sebek on their way to the cafeteria and since Epel was reading alone in the courtyard, they extend an invitation to him which the Pomefiore boy happily accepts. 

Stirring his bowl of soup, Yuu turns to glance at the table with a group of First Year Scarabia and Octavinielle students who were gossiping loudly. 

“...Saw Vanrouge-san and Silver-san going to the headmaster’s office earlier.”

“Really? So was Silver-san sick?”

“How should I know? I didn’t dare to ask and besides, you don’t approach Vanrouge-san; he approaches you.” 

“Oh c’mon, he’s nothing like... you know who. He can’t be that scary.”

“No, you don’t understand. It’s not that Vanrouge-san is scary, he’s one of the most popular student and one of the beautiful elites in the whole college! You can’t just go up and talk to someone like that!” 

“That and have you seen him? He’s up there with Schoenheit-san when it comes to looks and fashion. I even heard Schoenheit-san asked for tips from Vanrouge-san!” 

“As riveting as it is hearing you two gush about Vanrouge-san, I’m more interested in what happened to Silver-san. I heard that Mr.Divus spend all night brewing some special potion for him.” 

“Really? Maybe he was seriously sick then. It would explain his absence.” 

“Whoa, like, he was so sick that he nearly died?” 

A startled silence falls in the cafeteria when Sebek suddenly slam both of his hands on the table as he stands up. 

“As a Diasomnia student, I won’t tolerate any slanders against a student under Malleus-sama exalted leadership!” Sebek bark angrily at the table beside him. “Even if said student is a mere human!” 

“Ah shit, here we go...” Ace mutters underneath his breath as he wipes the spilt drinks with a napkin. Epel promptly left to grab more napkins the moment Sebek stood up while Yuu hurriedly pushes their plates and cutleries away from the mess.

Jack simply close his eyes and exhale deeply through his nose, attempting to remain calm while Deuce glare at the other table. 

“Whoa, whoa, relax! We don’t mean any harm, just talking.” One of the Scarabia students hurriedly counters, hands up in peace. However, his friend just scoff. 

“He won’t listen to you, man. That’s Sebek Zigvolt; he’s the fanatic student from Diasomnia and not one to listen to reason.” 

“Then why did you talk about Silver-senpai in such a manner when you know we were seating here!?” This time it’s Deuce. “Have some respect for your senior!” 

“Guys, c’mon. I’m sure Silver-senpai wouldn’t want this - ” Yuu tries to diffuse the situation but his words fall on deaf ears when an Octavinielle student interjects with a put-out sigh. 

“What’s the big deal anyway? He’s walking about since this morning right? It’s fine. The fact that you feel the need to make a fuss out of it is ridiculous.” 

Yuu paused to face that student, incredulous at his nonchalance. 

“Watch your tone.” Jack snaps. Yuu internally sighs now that even Jack is on board. Looks like it’s another trip to the headmaster office after this... 

Wild, uneasy tension is crackling in the air - or was that Sebek? Yuu isn’t too sure - surrounding them while most of the students in the cafeteria quietly sneak out, smart enough to avoid whatever trouble that will occur. 

“We’re so going to get in trouble...” Epel whispers though the idea of a brawl sounds exciting. Getting scolded by Vil? Not so much. As he weighs the pros and cons, a new voice joins in. 

“Ah, the liveliness of youth... It never fails to makes me happy seeing First Year students getting along so well!”  

Everyone flinches when Lilia appear out of nowhere, smiling in amusement. They all said nothing when the Vice Leader of Diasomnia cross his arms and said, “It seems that everyone is having fun. That’s good, that’s good... but let’s keep it down, yes? Curfew is in two hours so good children should finish up their dinner soon.” Despite how young Lilia sounded, his voice remind everyone of their parents at that moment. The two First Year students that were gushing about him earlier flustered brightly and unable to meet Lilia’s smokey red eyes.

“Lilia-sama... I-I didn’t mean to bring shame to - ” Sebek began, his voice wavers and face scrunch in obvious distress. Deuce is stuck in an awkward angle trying to console him and looking away in embarrassment. 

Lilia floats up to pat Sebek’s head. “Aww, chin up, Sebek-kun. We all get a little excited sometimes, hmm? No harm done.” He then turns his attention to his wary audience, slender finger tapping his chin in contemplation. “It’s been a while since we dine with the First Years. Shall we have dinner with them? What do you think, Malleus?” 

Someone gasps as soon as Lilia said that. The table with the Scarabia and Octavinielle students immediately duck their heads when Malleus appear, stoically carrying a tray of food and drinks. With stiff politeness, they excuse themselves and hurry exit the cafeteria. Lilia’s amuse smile never falters once. 

“He’s seriously not going to join us here right?” Ace whispers, both in awe and fear only to be roughly elbowed by Yuu. 

“Don’t be rude, Ace.” Yuu chastises him before giving the two Faes a welcoming smile. “Of course Lilia-senpai and Tsunotarou-senpai can join us! The more the merrier after all.” 

Malleus tilts his head, wondering if it’s truly alright, but Lilia just chuckle. “Well then, we’ll happily take up on your kind invitation, child. Come Malleus, don’t just stand there like one of your gargoyles.” 

Yuu and his group scoot over to make space for them; Lilia slides in to sit beside Deuce while Malleus sits beside Jack. The wolf doesn’t seem to be bothered by their close proximity and Malleus’ intimidating figure. 

Or maybe he’s doing a great job hiding his wariness. 

Since no one knows what to say with Lilia and Malleus at the table, Yuu breaks the silence first. “So how was the meeting with the headmaster went, Tsunotarou-senpai?” 

“Yuu - ” Deuce hiss while Epel instantly facepalmed and Ace whimpers as if in pain. 

Malleus easily ignore their odd reaction and reply, “The headmaster is investigating the matter. As of now, we don’t know the real reason behind it.” He handed Lilia a plate of steak and veggies with a glass of red wine before arranging his meal on the table. 

“Mm-hmm. But at least there weren’t any bad side effects on Silver so he’ll be fine soon enough.” Lilia chimes in. 

“It’s good to hear that Silver-senpai is alright!” Yuu said, brightly; his own half-eaten lasagna forgotten at the good news. “What a relief...” 

“Yeah, it’s been weird not seeing him sleeping in the courtyard after P.E.” Deuce absentmindedly comment. 

“Or on the bleachers at the training ground.” Jack added as an afterthought. 

Lilia languidly swirls his wine. “For First Years, it sounds like you’re close to him, yes? I understand Sebek because he’s in our group...” 

“I am eternally grateful for your and Malleus-sama’s benevolence!” Sebek suddenly shouted. 

“Use your indoor voice for once in your damn life!” Jack growls, disgruntled but otherwise focusing on his food more than the conversation. 

It was Yuu who answered Lilia’s musing. “Silver-senpai sometimes help us with our classes.” 

“He’s... surprisingly a cool senior.” Ace praised with a mischievous grin. Deuce immediately glares at him and for some reason, it actually shuts him up. 

“Huh? Is that so?” Lilia drawls with a raised eyebrow. Ace and Deuce valiantly hold themselves back from fidgeting while Yuu is oddly quiet as the Fae takes a slow sip of his drink. Epel doesn’t know what’s going on and Malleus is lost in the conversation. Meanwhile, Sebek and Jack are nearly finishing their dinner. “It makes me happy that Silver is putting himself out there a lot more then. Not just in his studies but also with his friends.” 

“Mn.” Malleus easily agreed. 

The topic is then steered to trivial matters by Yuu and a half an hour later, dinner is wrapped up and everyone returns to their specific dorm. 

And that night, Silver dreams of thick, green walls of thorns that reaches to the endless sky and green fireflies hover around him, carrying a familiar presence that eases his heart and melts away the unknown fear on his shoulders. 

That night, Silver sleeps undisturbed and under the watchful spells of his parents. 

-

“Hey, Silver-senpai? Can you hear me?” 

With a nonsensical grumble, Silver raises his head from the cool wooden table to glare - well, he tried to glare but really, his eyes are squinting from the harsh fluorescent light - at the fifth person to bother him today.

But when he realises it’s Yuu and Grim, Silver couldn’t help but sigh. Irritation replaces with apathy as he rubs his temple and asks, “Out of all the tables in the library, you wanted this one?” 

Yuu sheepishly grins, scratching his cheek while Grim twitches its whiskers; indifferent to their conversation. “Actually, we were just about to leave the library when Grim spotted you. You weren’t moving so I thought you were sleeping but then...” He trails off, unsure on how to explain himself for disturbing him but Silver could already guess what he’s trying to say.

And for that, Silver didn’t really have the heart to be mad at him but seriously... 

“I wasn’t sleeping; just... resting my eyes for a bit.” Silver begrudgingly admits. Seeing that Yuu won’t be leaving anytime soon, he invites the younger boy to take a seat in front of him. “I appreciate the gesture, but I need you and the rest of the student body not to freak out when you see me taking a nap.” 

“A-Ah, will do, Silver-senpai.” Yuu chuckles albeit still abashed for thinking of the worst when he approached the Second Year student. “Was it really that bad? When other students tried to wake you up?” 

“A Savanaclaw student literally carried me to Lilia-san while I was sleeping. While he was in the middle of class.” 

“Wow... that’s, uh, that’s...” Yuu had to bit his lower lip to stop himself from laughing at the image popping in his head. Grim had no such problem. 

“Gyahahaha! That’s so funny!” Grim cackles. “You’re like a princess!” 

A couple of students shot him an annoyed look for his loud voice, not that he cares. Silver groans, “It’s annoying. I’m fine; I’d wish people would stop looking at me as if I’d slip into a coma at any time.” Even Sebek had taken to hover around him a lot more often now. Probably came up with all sorts of excuses like how it would greatly inconvenience Malleus and Lilia if Silver were to injure himself if the same incident suddenly repeated.

“...Do you think there’s anything I can do to help?” Yuu asks after a ponder. His offer is genuine and Silver have to wonder how this boy can be so kind. 

But he just sighs once more. “Just don’t treat me as if I’m made of glass.” He’s meant to be Malleus’ knight for the Witch’s sake. He trained and worked hard since a young age so he could keep up with the other Faes when it comes to magic. So he’d like to think that he’s as capable as Sebek despite their glaring difference.  

Yuu then promises and that’s that. He and Grim left shortly after when Ace call him to hang out at the Heartslabyul dorm - Riddle is having a tea party and he’s invited - leaving Silver to gather himself before his next class, Evocation.

Wary glance, exchange whispers and knowing looks that Silver had been receiving for the past two days quickly grate on his nerves. He knows that the rumours would die down eventually but that doesn’t mean he had to accept it quietly. 

He needed to get away from college for at least a little while. By the time Lilia texted him to inform that he’s waiting for Silver in their shared class, Silver made up his mind.

He needs a damn break. 

“...Do you think we should tell Silver-san that Leona-senpai asked us to tease him?” A First Year Savanaclaw student asks after he and his friend watch him step into the library’s teleportation mirror and vanishes. They didn’t mean to eavesdrops on his conversation; it’s just that their table is behind the shelf of books that stood between his! 

“B-But I want to carry him in my arms too...” His friend whines. “It’s not fair that Romulus get to carried him...” 

“Dude, you know crushing on that guy’s companion is a bad idea, right?” The Savanaclaw student dryly stated. “Especially since Leona-senpai hates his dorm leader.”

Despite his generous advice, his friend only whines louder. “I can’t help it! Why does the Diasomnia clique have to be so good looking!?” 

The Savanaclaw student just sighs and shakes his head at his friend’s hopeless case. 

Back to Silver, he transforms his magic crystal from a pen to an earring and clips it on his right ear. It gleams eerily before the light melts into darkness. He had been getting ready when curfew has struck and he bid the others good night. Lilia had stopped checking up on him after a few days since his coma and Silver doubts he would randomly come by tonight. Not when there’s a dorm/vice dorm leader meeting with Headmaster Crowley tomorrow morning. 

“It’ll be fine.” Silver murmurs as he checks his reflection in the bathroom for one last time. “It’s been a few days since that day and nothing bad has happened... I’ll be fine.” Silver convinced himself. He had been sleeping well these past few days and he feels better than ever! Surely a night to himself away from Night Raven College won’t bring any harm? 

And so he sneaks out of the dorm using the same path as before and calls for a teleportation service to Mystic Elixir. Like the night when Yuu and his friends tagged along, he had no problem walking into the club after greeting a few of the staff. Another Friday night, another night full of party-goers and creatures looking to start their weekend right. Silver made himself comfortable and let the pounding music distract him as he watches the dance floor, nursing his drink in one hand. 

“Silver-senpai...” 

Silver nearly spat out his drink when he heard that voice. Whipping his head around with wide surprise eyes, he asks incredulously, “Did you followed me here?” 

Yuu at least had the decency to blush in embarrassment when he nods. Like Silver, he ditched his uniform for a set of casual clothes. “I saw you walking out of the forest on the way back to the Ramshackle dorm.” 

“And you were out late at night again because...?” 

“I couldn’t sleep. I was reading near the window when I spotted Tsunotarou-senpai near the forest and decided to join his walk.” Yuu explains. 

If Silver could’ve instantly dropped dead the moment his heart skip a beat, he would be a goner. “Malleus-sama wasn’t asleep?” His panic then fades away when his mind supplied that Malleus is not like Lilia; he didn’t check up on him when he was sleeping so it’s very unlikely he would start doing so tonight.

Meanwhile, Yuu understood what’s going on when Silver’s breath hitched. Looks like no one knows that Silver is here... 

Yuu snaps back to attention when Silver asks, “Anyway, why did you followed me then? I thought I told you not to worry about me.” 

“I know.” Yuu is quick to reply lest he would irritate him. “I just thought maybe... you could use a friend?” Silver said nothing but Yuu discreetly sighs in relief when the older boy turn to order a light snack for the both of them from the bartender. 

As Yuu is happily munching on a breadstick, he didn’t notice how his loose t-shirt slides down to slowly reveal fading marks of suction cups and light purple and red bruises on his collarbones that look like they were made by rows of sharp teeth.

Silver, however, notices it. He awkwardly coughs, loud enough to garner Yuu’s attention despite the noises around them. When he gestured to his own neck, Yuu frowns, gently touches his bare neck and instantly blush when he felt how tender some spots are. 

With a squeak, Yuu hurries to tug his shirt back up. “S-Sorry about that, Silver-senpai!” 

“...They’re not forcing you or anything, right?” Silver couldn’t help but ask. The Leech brothers can be a handful on their own, but together? And with Azul in the mix? He just couldn’t imagine it. 

“No, no; they’ve been very patient with me, Silver-senpai! I was surprised at first because I thought this wasn’t an otome game, but I’m good at going with the flow.” 

“...What?” 

Yuu just shrugs and continue to stuff his mouth with food. He kept his words and remain by Silver but not to the point that his presence bothers him. They watch the club-goers dance the night away, talk about this and that and Silver feels the tension that had been weighing down on his shoulders over the past few days melts away as he enjoys himself and the buzzing alcohol burning down his throat. 

Yuu excuses himself to go to the bathroom when his glass of lemonade is empty; finally leaving Silver alone. He checks the time on his phone and decides to have a couple more drinks before they return to college.

“A Primordial Gin, please. Less ice.” 

From a corner of his eye, Silver saw a small wad of Madols slide across the bar before a tall man takes the vacant seat at his right. Despite Silver’s subtle look, the man caught his eyes. A beatific smile graces his lips. “Good evening. Is that any good?” He points to the half-empty glass in Silver’s hold. 

“It’s alright. I like the sweetness after the liquor kicks in.” Silver easily reply. 

The bartender comes by to hand the man a tumbler glass with a bluish-green liquid and ice inside. He thanked the man and carefully takes a sip of his drink, sighing with pleasure at the taste. He then raises the glass to Silver and said, “Here’s to a good weekend for the both of us.” 

They clink their glasses together and downed their drinks. Silver loves the alcohol thrumming through his body and the air of peace and geniality enveloping the tall stranger. Magnetic and welcoming that it draws Silver in.

“Rough week?” He asks Silver. Underneath the light above them, his golden eyes are like smouldering ambers; his sharp eyeliners highlights them even more. Despite pulling his black hair up in a high ponytail, it falls past his waist with messy bangs framing his handsome face. 

Silver grimace; he didn’t want to talk about it. “It could’ve been better.” He left it at that and nibble on a breadstick. 

“Sorry to hear that. Hey, maybe next week would turn around, hmm?” The stranger hopes with a tilt of his head. That’s when Silver notices the tipped ears poking out from his thick mane. He wonders what kind of creature this man is. 

With the way he dressed, face, and baritone voice, he reminds Silver of Lilia but instead of the mischievous and playful streaks, this man exudes an openness that Lilia lack; no matter how he pretended to be sometimes. 

As they chatted, Silver keeps glancing at Yuu’s empty glass; wondering how long has it been since he went to the bathroom. His gaze bounces around the club for a familiar mop of black hair. 

To his surprise, there’s Yuu talking to someone in one of the booths. Silver couldn’t quite see who he’s talking to from the bar; only that he had thick, red hair and wear white and light red clothing. For a split second, the face of Heartslabyul dorm leader flashes in mind before he realises that whoever he’s talking to is taller than Riddle. 

Nevertheless, Silver was ready to bolt out of his seat seeing that Yuu is with a stranger. 

Silver’s company turn to where his gaze is at when Silver made a move to leave. “Oh? Is that your friend? You don’t have to worry; I know that redhead.” He assured Silver, effortlessly drawing his attention back. “He’s a classmate of my ward. I promise you that he won’t do anything untoward to your friend; he doesn’t have a mean bone in him to do any of the sorts.” 

Silver still wasn’t convinced but when the redhead throws his arms around dramatically as if to emphasis a point, Yuu laughs and eagerly respond back. A small part of Silver whisper in his mind that he really should pull Yuu away lest a... misunderstand might occur, but the drink and friendly companionship made him think twice. 

Even when the redhead and Yuu ditch the booth to dance amongst the crowd. 

“So anyway, what other drinks would you recommend? I quite enjoy something that’s spicy and airy like mints.” The black-haired stranger pick up where their conversation had left off. 

“Either Aether Embrace or Eden. Both are minty and quite strong.” 

His companion ordered an Eden once his glass is finish. “Since you don’t seem to be the type to dance, what made you and your friend came here tonight?” He asks, not even bothering to hide his curiosity. 

Silver carefully tip his glass at him. “The drinks are pretty good and besides, there’s always something entertaining happening around.” 

“Can’t argue with that.” The stranger chuckle, tucking a stray lock behind a pointed ear. “I don’t usually visit these sort of scenes but the drinks are truly something. I might actually come here again.” 

Silver hums as he drums his finger on the bar, feeling not quite drunk yet. “You mentioned a ward? Are you here with them?” 

The stranger shakes his head and smiles fondly. “He had been working hard all week so I told him to rest up and promised that we could do something together in the weekend instead.” He then talks a little more about his charge; how he’s an active student in both sports and academic and that he has lots of good friends.

Silver just hums as he talks; he sounds like a proud parent. Since he didn’t feel lightheaded, he wonders if he should order one last drink but the stranger purse his lips when he signals for the bartender. 

“You’re starting to look a bit flush. I think you could really use a glass of water instead.” His companion advice, concern tint his voice. 

Probably a good idea: Silver nods and did just that. He drinks up some water when it arrives. He then checks the time on his phone. 

Shit, it’s almost 3 AM; time to head back.

He paid for his and Yuu’s drinks and snacks and stretch his back. “We should get going. Thanks for the talk.” 

The stranger beam. “The pleasure is all mine! I didn’t expect to found a friend this evening through the grapevine. Oh, and best of luck to you and your friend; may you two have a great weekend.”

Silver inclines his head and bid goodbye before he fetches Yuu among the dancing crowd and they made their way to the exit. 

“It was nice talking to you!” The redhead shouted at Yuu as he waves goodbye with a happy grin. Yuu throws back the sentiment, so carefree and bright that Silver had never seen before. 

When he called for a teleportation portal back to Night Raven College, Yuu lets out a huge tired yawn as soon as they arrive. 

“Are you alright?” Silver asks, checking his eyes and face. A light sheen of sweat clings on his flushes face but Yuu is 100% sober. 

“I’m just exhausted, Silver-senpai.” Yuu assured him and smile tiredly. “I saw you talking to someone at the bar, Silver-senpai. Did you had fun?” 

“It was alright. He was a friendly guy. Now come on, let’s go to Ramshackle.” Yuu protest that he didn’t need Silver to walk him back to his dorm, but Silver rebuffs and explains that he’ll be going in the same path to the Diasomnia dorm anyway.

They soon parted ways and Silver saw Yuu entered his dorm, very clearly exhausted but with a happy smile as he clutched his phone and begin texting. Silver could easily guess who.   

Silver wonders if this heavy lead in his stomach is because of the alcohol or Yuu’s new friend. 

He decides to sleep it off. All in all, it was a good night; Silver was glad he made the decision to take some time for himself away from college, from the mess that happened.  

The little thread around Silver’s pinky finger remains whole. 

[mostlycompetentwriter]

I Am You: Chapter 2

Pairing: OC x Bang Chan x Han Jisung x Seo Changbin

Genre: Romantic Fantasy

Warnings: Smut

Chapter One

“Changbin is volatile.” 

His unpredictability has always been an obstacle in our relationship, even before he had accidentally mated me. It was a night I could never forget, especially considering Jisung and Chan’s outrage when they discovered us together. But it wasn’t Changbin’s fault, especially since he had always hidden his true feelings for me. And after years of holding everything back, the anticipated explosion did not turn out well for either of us. Yet, the dark-haired male was always sullen and quiet, and even after Jisung and Chan had both Declared, he still didn’t talk to me very much.

However, he always talked to other girls, and that really bothered me. I would always watch from a distance, observing with practiced patience how he would flirt with younger omegas. It was strange to be jealous, especially when I was sure Changbin didn’t like me. For example, back when the three of us were still in school, the boys would always beg for me to go to parties with them on the weekends. I relented because Jisung was absolutely adorable when he was drunk, clinging to me persistently. Thus, the four of us would always arrive together, but I remained silent because Changbin usually lost interest the minute I inserted myself into the conversation. On one such occasion, the pre-conditions were already different before everyone had even arrived:

“Your rut is close,” tipsy Jisung bluntly informed Changbin, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 

Changbin frowned. “You wanted me to come.”

Chan chuckled, holding me close to his chest, arms wrapped loosely around my waist as I nursed the sweet-tasting drink Jisung had brought for me. I had been trying to ignore Changbin’s scent all night. Unlike Jisung, I found his dark smell alluring, and it was taking a lot of effort to fight my instinct to bury my nose into the side of his neck. 

“They make scent blockers for a reason,” Jisung complained, eyes wandering over to me. I giggled at the sudden appearance of his smile, not protesting when he leaned in closer to scent me deeply. “I’ll just have to scent Myah instead.”

Chan let out a warning growl, apparently opposed to Jisung’s closeness. However, under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t even care if Jisung sought my attention, but I could also faintly detect Chan’s rut smell beneath his usual clean pine scent. 

Jisung pouted, leaning away to fold his arms across his chest. “Have another drink, Sungie,” I said, hoping to distract him. 

“Myah likes my scent,” Changbin suddenly announced, dark eyes appraising as they scanned over me. 

I was taken aback by Changbin’s forwardness, but also deeply embarrassed because he had promised not to say anything about my unfortunate comment, spoken out of term while I was under the influence of heat-induced hormones. You see, it had happened a few nights before my heat was set to break and Chan and Jisung had left me alone with Changbin to talk with a teacher after school. Changbin was mindlessly looking through a textbook when I leaned in closer, apparently not used to such close proximity. “You have a nice scent,” I had told him, only remembering our precarious relationship moments later, lost in mortification. 

I was slightly furious that Changbin had chosen now to speak up. “When did she say that?” Jisung asked, latching on to this new piece of information, as he always did.

“Cute,” Chan remarked, pinching my scarlet-red cheeks. 

“I didn’t mean it,” I protested, glaring in Changbin’s direction. “I was close to my heat.”

Changbin’s returning smile could only be described as arrogant. “You don’t have to lie, Myah. Other girls have told me the same thing.”

“Why don’t you go bother those other girls, then?” I asked him petulantly, overwhelmed by Jisung’s teasing, Chan’s incessant cooing, and the unfamiliar dark look in Changbin’s eyes.

“Only if you won’t get jealous,” Changbin rumbled, standing up to his full height, stretching out his arms above his head. I tore my eyes away from the wonderful flex of his biceps.

“He doesn’t mean anything by it,” Chan told me once Changbin was out of earshot. He probably picked up on my crestfallen expression. 

“He’s close to rut,” Jisung added, somehow managing to rest his head on my lap without my noticing.

However, my worsening mood was solely attributable to Changbin’s distraction, and I couldn’t stop thinking about him for the remainder of the night. It didn’t help that I saw him everywhere as if he was trying to stay on my radar. He leaned into omega girls, whispering sweet flirtations into their eager ears. He let them touch his arms, scandalous fingers testing the area over the front of his sinfully tight jeans. 

I was losing my mind, even with Jisung and Chan clinging to my arms. In fact, both of my future mates sought my attention and, at one point, I was situated in Chan’s lap, chasing his lips with intoxicating kisses. I had my eyes closed, tasting the inside of his mouth with my tongue, before leaning into his neck, scenting him in a way I normally wouldn’t do in public. But then I opened my eyes and found myself ensnared with Changbin’s impenetrable gaze. He had a petite blonde in his lap, running his teeth along the curve of her neck, even as his attention remained focused on me.

I shivered, feeling my scent spike as I followed the path of Changbin’s tongue, knowing he wanted me to watch. Chan shifted under me, and I could feel his erection through his pants. Apparently, the spike in my scent affected him more than I thought, and his rut scent was even more apparent. Jisung was the one to pull us apart, lecturing Chan on the dangers of going into a premature rut cycle.

I slipped away quietly while they argued, picking up Changbin’s scent easily. I followed it through the woods, admiring the quiet of the evening before a loud, exaggerated moan disrupted the tranquility. I should’ve known better than to follow it, especially as Changbin’s scent grew stronger. Still, I was completely unprepared to see him with another girl, body completely pressed against hers. 

“Where are you going?” he asked before I could turn back around.

I froze in place, watching him pull away from the other girl. His dark eyes were completely black, blown out with the influence of his obvious arousal. I glanced away quickly when I realized the girl’s top was missing. “Binnie,” she pouted, shaking his arm.

“Get lost,” he growled at her, and I looked up only when the other girl had stormed past me, making sure to hit her arm against mine.

“Are you following me?” Changbin teased, entire demeanor shifting as he sauntered over to me with a distinctly alpha posturing. 

“Your rut,” I informed him as if he wasn’t obviously aware.

“Yeah,” he agreed, grabbing my arm and pulling me against him. “You could help with that.”

“Changbin,” I started, losing all ability to speak when he started to scent me. It was a foreign sensation, as the only two male alphas who had dared touch the area were Jisung and Chan. I withheld a moan as one of his hands gripped tightly to my hair, wrenching my head back so that he could have better access to my scent gland. He let out a low, throaty growl, allowing his other hand to grab my ass, pulling me impossibly closer. I could feel his hard erection against my thigh.

He instinctively rutted his hips, as if to make sure I could feel all of him. “You aren’t used to that are you?” he asked and I was stunned by the bright red tint to his eyes. “I’ve seen Jisung and Chan in the locker room before. Do you even notice it when they’re fucking you?”

I moaned at his words, losing myself in the thick cloud of Changbin, his scent hanging in the air between us, summoning my basest instincts. “Are you gonna be good for me?” he continued, hands gripping my thighs before lifting me off the ground, forcing my legs to wrap around his waist. My back collided against the rough bark of the tree behind us, enough to temporarily knock the breath out of my lungs. 

Changbin’s scent grew thicker, and I knew he had entered his rut prematurely. I also knew how dangerous that could be, especially for alphas like Changbin: purebloods who were more in-tune with their inner wolves compared to most people, often losing out to their instincts in situations like this. But I had never been around an alpha like Changbin, and I was unable to grasp a single shred of rationality against his thick, blanketed rut smell.

He wanted to bite me too, I could tell from the way he insistently mouthed at my scent gland, tongue pressing against the swollen tissue, forcing more of the oily secretion to leak freely. “Changbin,” I managed, lost in a haze, half-heartedly pushing against his broad shoulders. 

He effortlessly muscled me to the ground, crawling over my weakening body, looking every part the predator. “You want my knot?” he snarled, pushing my dress up my legs, leaving my lower half almost completely naked, save for the delicate lace protecting my modesty. But Changbin wasn’t deterred, removing the barrier before reclining back onto his knees, fingers quickly working apart his belt. “Tell me you want me, angel.”

The nickname appealed to every base omega instinct I had. 

“I do,” I groaned, tears beginning to fall because everything was overwhelming and leaving me completely distracted.

Suddenly, I instinctually arched my back, ignoring the awkward twist in my neck when he roughly penetrated me. I found out quickly that Changbin wasn’t a liar, his cock was considerably thicker compared to Jisung or Chan. It filled me with an almost painful stretch, partly because of the suddenance by which he had entered me, without warning or preparation. And his jeans were down just enough to release his cock, and the rough material was rubbing harsh red burns into the delicate skin of my thighs. “Changbin,” I whined. “It hurts.”

He grunted from above me, his pace slowing down, even if the exertion from doing so was evident in the contorted set to his mouth. But his knot was swelling fast, his rut state encouraging his body to fill me as quickly as possible and breed me full of his pups. In the heat of the moment, Changbin ignored everything except his alpha instincts, leaning down to bury his teeth into my scent gland. I was unprepared for the accompanying pain, letting out an uncharacteristic scream as he bit down, almost like he was trying to rip out my throat instead of leaving a mating bite.

And that’s how Jisung and Chan found us, locked together by Changbin’s knot, with blood streaking down the side of my neck.

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

Present

My most recent heat ended the next morning. It gave Jisung no reason to stay behind any longer. I insisted on seeing him off, allowing him to fuss over my outfit, complaining that I would be cold in my thin sweater. “Changbin will look after you,” Jisung said, appearing satisfied after adjusting his scarf around my neck, enveloping me in his sweet scent.

No, he won’t, I grumbled to myself. Because Changbin had been ignoring me for a whole week now, ever since his rut had ended. I always asked to help them through their ruts and Changbin was always hesitant to accept, ever since the night he mated me during the height of his passion. He never forgave himself for the unorthodox way he had done so, no matter how many times I told him that I had already moved on.

But Changbin had surprisingly accepted my most recent proposal and we had been locked away in his room for almost an entire week. Unfortunately, my body had grown exhausted with keeping up, as his heightened sex drive was impossible to satisfy. We had agreed not to knot again, but Changbin had been lost in the moment, a victim to his heightened alpha instincts. Changbin had accidentally forced his knot inside, even though my body had resisted. I was stuck in the infirmary overnight and the next morning, Changbin wouldn’t so much as look in my direction.

Jisung didn’t help matters, lecturing Changbin relentlessly while Chan refused to leave my side, coddling me like I was moments away from death rather than healing from a mundane injury. And Changbin always took things too seriously, so he was barely present in our camp, choosing instead to go on long hunts, leaving at dawn and returning well past nightfall. I was beyond irritated with the grumpy alpha, missing the calming effect of his dark scent. After so much time apart, our mating bond was suffering.

“Chan and I will be back in a few days,” Jisung continued, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of my red-tinted nose. 

I pouted, knowing I would suffer without their affection, especially when Changbin made it clear that he wouldn’t bother. “Sungie,” I complained, wrapping my arms around him. I scented him deeply, hoping to at least remember the sweet vanilla for the remainder of the day.

“Princess,” Jisung gently pushed me back. “This isn’t like you.”

I’ve never been alone to suffer through Changbin’s moods, I wanted to tell him, but I knew it would only lead to more lecturing, and Changbin hated me enough. “I’m sorry,” I said, cursing my stupid omega emotions as the threat of tears burned the corners of my eyes. 

I spent the rest of the day locked in my room, scenting the sweaters Jisung and Chan had left behind for me. Chan’s scent was already starting to fade, which really upset my wolf more than I was expecting. Jisung and Changbin were so important to me, and I loved them more than anything else, but they did not reach me as deeply as Chan continued to do. Our bond had the most history, and our mating fulfilled even the deepest void of my soul.

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

Past

I was already mated to Jisung and Changbin. They had left their respective marks on me. Jisung had insisted not long after the incident with Changbin. He waited until my next heat to mark me, choosing to place his bite further away from Changbin’s, on the fleshy part of my upper arm, easily hidden away by sleeves. I was surprised he had chosen such a spot as I figured Jisung would be the one to bite my neck, to proudly show off his mark, but Jisung continued to surprise me.

Changbin was slowly opening up to me, especially now that our shared bond allowed me to know how he was feeling before he was even aware. He still hated how it had happened, but I tried my best to show him that I would never hold that against him. I came to realize that Changbin and I were very much alike, introverted personalities aside. Changbin was very loyal, and he was always ready to defend me, which the submissive part of my instincts adored.

But I was still waiting for Chan to declare his Intention. Each day without a word on the subject concerned me. “He’s just waiting for the right moment,” Jisung tried to assure me.

And I thought the right moment would be Chan’s rut, but the alpha refused me when I asked to spend it with him. It hurt a part of me that only Chan could access, and the refusal weighed heavily during each subsequent day during which I knew Chan was suffering. Since Jisung was out of town, I snuck into Changbin’s bed, readily drowning myself in the alpha’s heady scent. “I know what you’re doing,” Changbin said, gently gliding his nose along my jawline. “I don’t like being a distraction.”

Well, sometimes the bond was annoying.

After an entire month passed with no word from Chan, I decided to confront him myself. Our graduation was nearing, and there was a lot to figure out with our situation. As my mates, Jisung and Changbin could choose to enter a new pack or start one of their own. I wouldn’t be inclined to have any say in the matter, as tradition dictated, and I knew the pair had been talking about forming their own pack. But leaving Chan behind was a scary thought, so I was growing desperate.

I cornered him after classes one day, reciting my monologue in my head so I wouldn’t forget a single word. “Chan,” I addressed him, “Can we talk?” The blonde-haired alpha let out a vague, noncommittal noise as he continued to mess around in his locker. “Jisung and Changbin have already done it,” I said, letting out a deep breath. “We’re already Declared and I know we’ve talked about Intention before. I think it might be nice to mate before school ends.”

Chan barely glanced up. “I can’t talk about this now, Myah. I have something to do after school.”

“Chan-” I tried again, but the alpha had already moved on, shutting his locker door before leaving me alone in the hallway.

[darkwoods-darkdreams]

Imagine you’re a thief (I)

You rarely strayed into the wilderness. Towns were always better for you to make a living. Forests and coasts were only good when you were hiding from guards or people you had stolen from. But something else had lured you into the wilds. A nearby town was full of rumours that there was an elven ruin somewhere nearby. The accounts of other villagers narrowed your search to the north. You guessed that the ruin had been carved into the cliff, meaning that you had to find a safe way down. You managed to find an easier path, a hill instead of a vertical drop.

Sure enough, when you reached the bottom, there was a set of stone doors decorated in what you recognized as elven patterns. Torches were on either side, but it looked like they hadn’t been lit in days. There was no heat. No embers. Whoever occupied the ruin had been gone for a long time. All the better for you. If someone was inside, you would have a much harder time stealing something and leaving without being noticed. Besides, taking hostages was something that you tried to avoid.

The doors opened without problem. You hesitated, wondering if there was some sort of magic trap waiting. But the familiar static of magic against your skin never came. It was safe. For now, at least. You descended the stairs, the light from outside fading into darkness. You would have tried lighting one of the torches on the wall, but you worried that the light would attract any ships passing by.

You reached the bottom of the stairs, the room almost too dark to see anything inches away. You paused, listening for noise or anything that would reveal someone else’s presence. But there was nothing. You moved to the side of the room to a desk, fumbling for a lighting a candle. The desk was covered in various bottles and tubes filled with different colours of liquid. Elven artifacts, especially books and tools, always sold for a high price. If you slipped out with a few things, you wouldn’t be burdened and, if the elf ever returned, they would likely not notice that anything had been taken.

You grabbed a phylactery and one of the smaller bottles, stashing both in your bag.

“You are not supposed to be here,” A voice spoke behind you.

You tensed, immediately grabbing the candle and turning around. There was someone standing in the middle of the room. No, not someone. Something. Ribbons were draped over darkness, glowing a faint green. You hadn’t seen it when you had first entered the room. How could you have missed it?

“You have also taken something that is not yours,” The thing stepped closer. Stone and dirt. You had heard of such a thing before. It was enchanted in order to serve as a guardian. The elf was gone, but the ruin was hardly abandoned. One hit from such a creature would either kill you or knock you unconscious. You couldn’t afford to let it get close.

You ran, finding the nearest door and opening it. You didn’t bother trying to shut it. You just kept running. But the heavy footsteps faded. The guardian couldn’t fit through the doorway. It was only meant to deter thieves and intruders at the entrance. But with no other way out, you were stuck until it was distracted. Perhaps it would drift into dormancy. However, if it stopped at the door, you would still be trapped. Your only chance would be when the elf returned. If they ever returned. Nonhumans were being killed left and right in certain cities. Elven mages usually had to travel in order to sell their wares.

You needed to find a place to hide. You passed by a workroom and a library before you reached the end of the hall. Opening the last door revealed a bedroom. There was a wardrobe and space beneath the bed. You could even stand behind the door and slip out when the elf wasn’t looking.

You chose the cabinet. You pushed aside various robes and pressed your back against the wood frame. It felt like hours passed. The stone guard never moved. It waited by the doorway, ruining your chances of escape. You were beginning to grow nervous. What if the elf never returned? Would you really be stuck in the ruin until you either risked your life or died trying to leave?

Finally, something changed. You froze, listening as the guardian shifted. When it stopped, you heard a new sound. It was lighter, quieter. You didn’t have time to place it before someone spoke.

“Master,” It was the stone guard, “Welcome. I should warn you that there is an intruder in your home. They fled to the hall before I could deal with them.”

“Ah,” Another voice replied. It didn’t carry the same deep vibration. If anything, it sounded human. But you knew better than to think that, “And who is this intruder?”

“A human woman. Considering she took some items from your desk, I would gather that she is a thief.”

You cursed under your breath. You had hoped that the guardian would stay dormant long enough for you to sneak out before the elf had any clue you were even there. You would have to find a better opportunity.

“A human woman?” There was a snicker, “How strange. I wonder where she’s hiding. Stay by the stairs. I’ll go look for her.”

The footsteps trailed into the hallway, then diverted. He was checking the workroom. A few more steps, then a pause. He was in the library. You pulled out the bottle you had stolen. It wasn’t much, but if it managed to throw him off, you might be able to run past him. Evading the stone guard would be another feat entirely, but at least you would have something to work with.

He was in the room now. You could hear him slowly step through the doorway. You tensed, but tried to keep still. The wardrobe could easily creak and give away your position. Still, there were finite places you could be hiding. You regretted not choosing to stand behind the door.

“You can come out now,” The elf spoke, “It’s best that you do so now, though I don’t mind searching for you.”

Your grip tightened on the glass. There was an amused lilt to his voice. He clearly wasn’t intimidated by you being in his home. And why would he, when he was a mage? You had no power in comparison. You held your breath, waiting for him to open the cabinet.

“…No? Do you really want to continue this game? Well, I hoped you picked a good hiding place.”

You put a hand over your mouth to keep your slow, deep breaths from being heard. He was moving closer to the wardrobe. Just as the doors opened, you threw the bottle. It shattered, red smoke billowing from the glass. It quickly filled the wardrobe you were standing in before you had the chance to hold your breath. You coughed, eyes watering as you stumbled, getting tangled in the robes. The smoke turned blue, then faded. You finally freed yourself from the furs and fabrics, stepping out of the cabinet.

However, you were met with the sight of the elf standing in front of you. He wore ornate robes similar to the ones you had been tangled in. He brushed off some broken glass from his chest. The front of his clothes had a dark spot. The potion you had thrown had hit him in the chest, soaking the material. He crossed his arms, obviously annoyed with you using one of his own creations against him. His hair was longer than you had seen on most men, parts of it braided. He was taller than you were, and beneath his robes he looked to be quite lean. He was just like you imagined an elf to be. He even had pointed ears.

But your vision shifted. Dizziness overcame you. You staggered, then fell to your hands and knees. The potion’s fumes had taken hold. You tried to clear your head of the fog, but it was only worsening with each second.

“So, you really did come here to steal,” The elf walked past you, removing his cloak and hanging it on a hook fastened to the side of the wardrobe, “To tell the truth, I’m not surprised, though you are the first to come here. Most don’t venture out into the wilderness unless they need something.”

What had you thrown? Your heart was racing, its rhythm thick in your ears. You straightened a bit, trying to get up, but your legs refused to cooperate. Your breathing was ragged as you removed the phylactery from your bag and set it down on the ground, “I-I…” You shifted, growing feverish, “I didn’t know that anyone still lived here. It looked abandoned. I wouldn’t have taken anything if it seemed like someone was still living here.”

“From what I’ve heard in the nearest village, that isn’t entirely true,” He replied, standing in front of you once more. He was right. You stole from practically anyone if you believed you could get away with it. You had hoped that your lie would make him sympathetic.

You managed to get to your feet, albeit shakily. You felt strange, your knees quivering when you tried pressing your legs together. The elf was still between you and the door. If the potion didn’t wear off soon, you would stand no chance in escaping. You swallowed thickly, “Please, I’m sorry, I-“ Your words caught in your throat when he stepped closer to you. He definitely wasn’t afraid of you.

“Do you know what you threw at me, little thief?” His hand were clasped behind his back. He tilted his head to one side, amused.

You nodded. You didn’t need him to tell you. It was an aphrodisiac. One that worked on humans but not elves, it seemed, judging by his lacking of any sign of arousal.

“Since you’ve apologized and returned everything that you stole, I’m willing to offer you a choice. The first option is that you leave now and never come back. Of course, this is rather dangerous, given your current condition. Anyone that finds you is likely to use it to their advantage, man or beast. Now, as for your second choice,” He stepped closer to you, inches away from your body. You stepped away, only for your back to hit the wardrobe’s doors. You could see that he wasn’t as unaffected as you had thought. His pupils were dilated and his gaze drifted away from your eyes, wandering across your mouth and chest. But his eyes flickered back to meet yours, a hand moving to your side, “I can help you with your little predicament until the potions wears off. Then you’ll be free to go.”

It was actually quite generous of him. Granted, solving your problem would also solve his. You wouldn’t be able to leave in your condition. If the villagers you stole from found you, then you would likely become a captive and forced to stay there for the rest of your life as their toy. You couldn’t stomach that option, so you chose the other.

You pulled him closer, kissing the elf fervently. He responded immediately, his grip tightening on your waist. Every touch felt like sparks dancing across your body, setting your soul on fire. He never rushed anything. A caress was slow and gentle. A kiss was passionate, but never forceful. Each time he withdrew, his mouth lingered ever so close to yours before drifting to your neck. He pulled at the ribbon binding your dress at an agonizing pace. It was if he was savoring every inch of your skin that was revealed to him, worshipping your body with his own. You wanted nothing more than to cut to the chase, but he was determined to prolong the act. When you tried to touch him in more intimate places, he grabbed your hand and guided it back to his chest. You could feel the smirk as he kissed you, knowing that you were growing impatient.

You removed his robes, cursing under your breath each time a layer of fabric fell to the floor with yet another still covering his body. He laughed, helping you with some of the clasps and ties until he was finally naked before you. Despite his lack of clothing, he never shied away. He stood with the sort of regality and poise you expected from a king, and yet he was but a mage. It nearly caused you to hesitate, but the elf’s lithe fingers threaded through your hair, tilting your head up so he could ensnare you in another kiss. Your reluctance faded, your body aching for him.

You nudged him toward the bed. He lied back without complaint, watching you hungrily as you climbed onto the bed. You straddled him, ghosting your hands over his chest. You could feel him between your legs, the slightest movement brushing him against your entrance. You shivered, both from the cold air against your warm skin and the feeling of being so close to satisfaction.

The elf sat up, his fingertips tracing up your back. Once he reached your shoulders, one hand moved to your breast, then down your stomach. When his palm settled against your hip, he quickly moved. You thought that he was trying to enter you despite lying beneath you to earn a cry of approval, only for your balance to shift. You ended up on your back, your hands on either side of your head and your legs around his waist.

He grinned, “Did you think that you were in charge, little thief? You’ll have it later, but you’re at my mercy now,” He leaned down to kiss you again, his warm touch wandering to your thigh, pulling your legs tighter around him. His hand moved between your legs, positioning himself at your entrance. You squirmed, panting heavily as he went deeper, filling you. You heard humans boasting that elves were miserable lovers in comparison to them, but the elf before you was the opposite. When he buried himself within you completely, your back arced off of the bed. He filled you so well. You had slept with men before, but they paled in comparison. You weren’t sure if it was because of the potion or simply his body and talent, but you knew that you wouldn’t last long beneath him.

His thrusts were slow but rough. He held you close as his hips rolled into yours, kissing your neck. You gripped his shoulders, trying to anchor yourself as you were brought closer and closer to the edge. The elf withdrew, taking a moment to observe you in the midst of pleasure. You wondered if the potion was wearing off on him and he was beginning to regret having sex with a human.

But he grabbed your thighs and gently pushed them back. You shut your eyes, turning your head to the side as he moved deeper. You couldn’t help but moan in approval, squirming beneath him.

“Are you pleased?” He asked. You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied, “Speak up, Cerbin.”

“Yes,” You gasped, looking up at him, “Please, I’m-“

“I’m aware,” His voice still held that amused tone. He was enjoying himself, both from giving and receiving pleasure.

You looked away, nails digging into his skin as you felt your body tense. You were so close. You felt light-headed, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the potion or his actions. Perhaps it was a combination of both. You cried out, legs quivering in his grasp. Your walls twitched around him, which only made you moan louder.

The elf hissed. He hadn’t expected your orgasm to drive him to the edge. He had wanted to pleasure you until you begged, to hear your voice desperate and wanting for him. The potion had clouded his mind and set a fire beneath his skin. He couldn’t hold himself back or separate himself from you. Your soft skin and sweet voice made him only bury himself as deeply as he could, making small thrusts as he panted, coming down from the heights of pleasure.

You stiffened when you felt heat, the warmth pooling inside of you. You felt a strange pressure in your womb, but it only made you want more. The potion was still in your system. Just one bout wasn’t enough. Just as the elf relaxed, you pushed him to one side. When he fell back against the bed, you straddled him, inhaling sharply as he entered you again. Your braced yourself against his chest, feeling the lean muscles beneath your fingertips. His hands moved up your arms, then down your body. His gaze followed his touch, almost mesmerized as he traced patterns. He sat up, an arm around your waist as he ensnared you in another kiss.

When you awoke, you knew that something was wrong. Something was nudging you, but it wasn’t a sensation you were familiar with. You sat up groggily, feeling like you had been drinking too much. But the elf’s bedroom made you remember the events of the night before. He wasn’t in the room, though you could hear the faint sound of clinking glass. He was probably working on something.

His whereabouts, however, were the least of your concerns. The persistent movement that had woken you up was still going. You reached down out of instinct, rubbing your hand over your stomach to stop the prodding. But your sleepiness immediately vanished when you realized that your body didn’t feel quite right. Your stomach had swollen outward, firm beneath your hand. You looked down, eyes widening in horror. You were pregnant, though you couldn’t tell how far along you were. It was far too quick for any pregnancy you had seen. You were visibly showing within hours. You couldn’t recall the number of times he had poured his seed into you.

You looked to the door, thankful that it was shut. You didn’t know if the elf had seen your condition. It was probably a side effect of the potion. Either way, you had to leave. If one night of passion caused by a potion resulted in you being over halfway to birth, then you didn’t want to spend any more time in such a place. You had to find another town with new people to steal from.

But you knew one thing for certain; you never wanted to be anywhere near magic again.

[fukmeintheassandcallmecastiel]

1888, Part One

unus.

Whitechapel, London, England

1888

Oleander hadn't killed the prostitute.

Sure, he saw them all the time. Prostitutes were as common as rats in these parts of London. You could walk down an alley and see a man having his way with one right against the wall. More than once he'd been walking down the dank and dirty streets of Whitechapel only to be greeted with the sight of a man attempting to force himself onto some poor, resisting whore. He never stepped in to help, of course - he simply paused long enough to take a deep breath, then walked on, the sounds of the struggle behind him fading soon enough.

That sight was common enough for Whitechapel, and many other places in London. The Victorians had originally been scared of the cities on the rise, the people all packed together and the factories popping up at a feverish pace, but they were coming around, and some were even starting to embrace it. It was a bit of a savage place, really, with the squalor and the crowded conditions, the violence and the lawlessness and disease running rampant. All of it made London the perfect place for someone like Oleander to get his fill of sin and spoiled souls. That’s all Oleander really needed - it was what he fed on, what kept him going. He soaked in the bad energy that the sins and misdeeds of humanity gave off, inhaled it.

He'd been in London for a few years now, and as the city became more and more populated, the sinfulness only escalated. Plus, Jack the Ripper, as the notorious murderer had been christened, apparently by himself, seemed like he was here to stay. It wasn't often that Oleander got to soak in the sinergy brought on by brutal, bloody murder, but when he did, by god was it a treat.

To his dismay, he'd never actually gotten to see Jack do the action itself. That would've been a day. He'd only ever gotten to see the aftermath, standing around with everyone else, hovering like flies attracted to horse shit and buzzing the same way with fear and excitement and anticipation and questions. They'd watch as the police examined the poor, mangled body of the prostitute who'd fallen victim, and without fail someone in the crowd would murmur about how the poor lady was asking for it, living such an unholy lifestyle, it was only a matter of time until God put an end to it. That always made Oleander laugh. These stupid little humans. They thought their god cared about them enough to be individually involved in the life of every human on the planet - it was as adorable as it was pathetic and delusional. 

---

Whitechapel was especially disgusting. Oleander couldn't stand the way his shoes squelched with each step he took, the ground wet with human waste and sewer water and animal excrement and rotten garbage. It reeked too, but Oleander was desperate enough that he was willing to put up with it.

He was hungry.

His usual methods of getting a meal weren't working as they usually did, for some odd reason. He went to the market, where people were shouting and screaming and haggling and fighting and stealing, but it didn't fill him. He went to the docks, with its smuggled goods and underpaid laborers and awful working conditions, barely anything. So he went to the one place he knew was always soaking in sin - the alleys of Whitechapel, where there was always some horror waiting to be found. 

Oleander arrived in the disease rampant section of the city expecting to find some residue from the previous murders in the air, something that could hopefully satisfy his gnawing hunger for human evil and ruin.

What he didn't expect to find was a murder in progress.

Right away it was clear that the girl was already past saving. Her throat was slit and she was laying in a puddle of her own blood. Oleander didn't know what alerted the hooded figure crouched over the girl of his presence, but before he could even react, the killer was sprinting away, leaving the bloody knife behind in their haste. And then, to make things even messier, he heard a blood-curdling shriek from the mouth of the alley, and then a scream.

 "IT'S THE RIPPER!"

And then the police were there, having come out of fucking nowhere, and Oleander was standing in the alley with a bloody knife on the ground and the body of a prostitute who was fading fast at his feet. 

---

The police in London were absolute morons. Aside from smacking him around and dragging him away from the crime scene (and making him lose a shoe in the process), they also were apparently deaf. He'd been sitting at the police station for what must have been over two hours when a witness finally came forward. They said that they'd seen what had happened from the mouth of the alley, and told the police that Oleander had merely stumbled upon the scene at the same time that the man had walked by. He'd watched as Oleander stood frozen, then the Ripper had sprinted off. Once he'd told the police his story, they made him tell it again. Then again. And again. They claimed it was merely a method of fact-checking, to make sure the story was straight and all the details in line. Oleander was convinced it was to fuck with him. Finally, after the witness telling the tale five times in total, Oleander was released. After all, they didn't have any evidence on which to hold him. There was no blood on his person, and the bloody shoe prints left in the mud around the body didn't match his own. 

Fucking idiots.

---

By the time he got out, he was thoroughly pissed, his eyes glowing yellow with hunger. He had to walk back through Whitechapel in order to get to his home, and with every muddy step he took his foul mood only worsened. It didn't help that he still only had one shoe, the other forever lost, probably scooped up within moments of losing it by someone who would sell it or use it themselves, or use the material it was made from. In London, it was better to have two mismatching shoes or even one than to have none at all. Shoes were a commodity.

He was so wrapped up in his own misery that he didn't even notice the struggle going on until it was maybe two feet away from him. A prostitute in a stained dress, holding onto a shorter, thinner young man. 

"Please - please, sir, I need it - just let me-" she begged, trying desperately to force her lips onto his. The man she was holding prisoner seemed to want nothing less than her advances, however. He was squirming desperately, his face turned to avoid the unwanted kiss.

Well, this was certainly an interesting sight. Oleander was pretty sure the roles were usually reversed. A cane lay a few feet away in the dirt, and Oleander saw the male glance back at it longingly. 

"Please sir, I need coin, I'll make you feel good-" the prostitute continued to babble. Then, suddenly, Oleander snapped to his senses. Here he was, half-mad with hunger, and here was a meal right in front of him. He quickly stepped forward and pried the man away from the prostitute, but before Oleander could grab the harlot, she was on her feet and sprinting away, out of the alley. An enraged growl escaped Oleander's throat as he watched his meal escape. He looked around, searching for something, anything to feed off of. Then his eyes landed on the male with the cane. He lunged at him, pinning him to the wall and gripping him tightly by the shoulders. He opened his mouth, breathed in, and -

...nothing.

What?

That wasn't possible.

He inhaled again, and again, nothing. 

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes glowing a yellow, sickly color. "How are you holding it back?"

"What? H-holding what back, I don't-" The male stammered, but Oleander cut him off.

"What are you? Are you one of the angels?"

"Angel? No, I-I'm Theo! Look, I really don't know what you're talking about, but if you're looking for money-"

"I don't want your money, you idiot." Oleander snarled, spit nearly flying from his lips in his hungered frenzy. "I need your sinergy. Stop holding it back!"

"My what?" Theo yelped, looking up at Oleander with big brown eyes. 

"Your sinergy, the sinful energy you have, I need it. All humans have it..." Oleander said, then trailed off. He paused, looking at Theo for a long moment. "Except for you. You're human, but...you don't have any sin for me."

[shatteredglassanimated]

Shattered Glass Animated Season 1 Episode 3 - Transform and Rise Up!, Part 3

The Decepticons get to know their new allies a little more, but introductions are cut short when they discover they were not the only Cybertronians who crashed on earth and Overlord Sumdac is far from done with the Resistance...

“Failures! The whole lot of them!” Sumdac snarled, hauling his wrench at the wall next to the unfazed secretary-bot who had just reported to him. That was perhaps the only downside to having a non-human assistant, Sumdac thought. Machines might be more reliable, but they also lacked the satisfying utter fear in their eyes. They would not flinch, no matter how much his wrath flared up and that irked him. Everything he owned ought to fear him. Oh well. At least the robots were obedient. Not like that resistance-scum that had yet again managed to elude him. How they’d managed to somehow completely destroy that techno-organic abomination that some of his finest scientists had failed to contain or control was completely beside him. He’d been so sure that had them this time! So sure he had retreated to his laboratory for two days and had ordered the secretary-bot not to disturb him until his return. Clearly they’d had help. Perhaps even from the inside? Now here was something to consider. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. The high-tech weaponry, advanced enough to rival his toughest police-drones. The way his camera-bots seemed to mysteriously malfunction whenever a fight ensued between the resistance fighters and his own forces. Sumdac stroked his chin in thought. Yes, it seemed like the only logical conclusion. But who? It had to be someone high up, a human, obviously, intelligent enough to counter-engineer Sumdac-drones. Perhaps-

The comm on his desk sprang to life, interrupting his thought process. Sumdac growled and brought his fist down on the answer button, activating the small monitor. Seeing just who it was that had called him did nothing to improve his mood. A sturdy blond man with a much too eager look in his eye and a shiny badge pinned to his shirt. “What is it, Captain Fanzone?” Sumdac asked, in a tone that would have made a snow storm feel warm. “I am quite busy.” “Good morning, Overlord Sumdac,” Fanzone chattered giddily, either ignoring or not noticing his employers foul mood. “Me and the crew did a bit of clean-up in downtown, y’know, bringing back the drones that got shattered before the scavengers got to ‘em. We found a camera-bot and retrieved it’s footage - which is crispy clean, by the way. You couldn’t find a human making pictures like that in that situation! This is why I love machines-” “What did the footage show?” Sumdac interrupted, before Fanzone was able to descend into one of his unbearable gushing fits. He’d appreciated the man’s complete and utter loyalty and devotion to all things technological back when he’d hired him as his chief of police, but after soon thirty years of listening to his endless drivel, Sumdac wondered if perhaps he should have gone through with making his personal police force a hundred percent non-organic. At least robots had an off-switch. “Right, right! Well, I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t just seen it myself, to be honest I still don’t believe it. It’s amazin’, it’s groundbreakin’, it’s-” “Just send me the footage,” Sumdac groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He felt a headache coming up. “Right away, sir!” A file popped up on his computer and Sumdac send the data over to the flat-screen facing his desk. As much as Fanzone liked to overstate, he had been right about the quality of the material the camera-bot had carried. The picture was sharp as could be. And what it showed raised Sumdac’s interest. Four gigantic robots, apparently able to transform into flying vehicles at will battled with his monster, each displaying a different set of skill and powers. The footage cut off when one of the beasts’ tentacles grabbed and crushed it in mid-air, but Sumdac had seen enough. He’d been right after all. The resistance had had help. Help from above. No wonder they had disabled his cameras. If he’d discovered their little secret earlier...although ‘little’ was perhaps not an apt descriptor for it. A sense of nostalgia overcame him as he thought back to that fateful evening fifty years ago. At that time he’d thought of his find as a once in a life-time occurrence. He wasn’t particularly angry to be proven wrong, though. Without knowing it, the resistance had possibly handed him just what he needed to sniff them out. He turned to switch on his computer, went through some files until he found what he was searching for, then contacted Fanzone again. “I am about to send you a probe of an energy signature. Do not attempt to find out what it belongs to, it is extremely rare and way over your head. You will feed it to a regiment of your police drones. And then you will dispatch them and let them search.” “So we’ve got a lead, sir?” Fanzone asked. Sumdac smirked. “Indeed we have. Tell the drones they have orders to take any robots they find and bring them to me, undamaged. And if they find any humans accompanying them, they are authorized to use lethal force.” ______________________________________________________________ A lean, great figure, raised it’s hand away from it’s head and left it’s hiding place outside the Terrordrome’s main tower to drop down onto and automated aircraft and onto the street. Transforming into a standard motorcycle and racing towards Downtown. ______________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, in an old abandoned factory on the outskirts of Detroit, the resistance in question were up to face another day. It had been a rather quiet two days since the incident and they’d gotten to know each other a little better. Currently, Amicable Archer had settled himself on Blitzwing’s shoulder and was rather enthusiastically explaining all the things that placed a bow above a regular plasma gun. The Decepticon listened and nodded politely after every second word or so, although he couldn’t for the spark of him understand what this conversation was actually about. But it was still fascinating to listen to a being that was so small and so vulnerable compared to him and his fellow ‘Cons, yet still threw himself into battle against opponents so much bigger and more lethal than himself to protect other humans. Lugnut and Cyrus were sitting side by side on an old assembly line, watching their respective partner and wishing desperately for them to break off and return. Neither of them knew how to talk to each other. Cyrus had mostly gotten over his discomfort after he realized the Decepticons were in no way associated with Sumdac, but they still unnerved him to a certain degree. So much so that he had forbidden Penny to interact with them until further notice. And although she had sulked quite a bit about his decision, she’d ultimately agreed to stay hidden in her room in their side of the factory, much to his relief. Lugnut felt much the same about the humans. He was by no means an organo-phobe, it was more that he’d never had the faintest idea what he was supposed to do with them. Most of the organic life he’d encountered in his life-cycle hadn’t really been intelligent enough to communicate in a way that he could understand and with how squishy and fragile organics were he’d always felt a mere touch with his giant metal claws was enough to make them wither away and/or break. True, this Cyrus looked a lot more put-together than his smaller companion, but still just as soft. The uncomfortable silence between them stretched out with every second, only highlighted by Archers’ and Blitzwing’s light-hearted chattering. Eventually, Cyrus gave an awkward cough and turned to Lugnut. “Umm, so. This ‘Cybertron’...is it...far away from earth?” “Very. Though without a proper star  map, I will be unable to tell you the exact distance.” “Ah. And, err...where did you guys say you came from again?” “New Kaon. It is the main capital of our colonies, a safe haven from the Autobots and their tyranny.” “Huh. Kinda like our factory’s a hideout from Overlord Sour-puss out there?” “...You could say that. Although New Kaon is much superior in size.” “I mean, if it’s supposed to host a whole bunch of you guys, I’d imagine it’d have to be.” Cyrus lifted one corner of his mouth in an uneasy smirk. Lugnut made a noise that could have been a laugh, but Cyrus couldn’t be entirely sure. The behemoths’ face wasn’t exactly what you’d call expressive. He came to the conclusion that, if Lugnut hadn’t been at least a bit amused by his comment, he’d have moved away by now and decided to leave it at that. The two of them continued to sit together in silence, though there was an air of comfort to it now. At the same time, Megatron and Blackarachnia were standing in the repair room. The techno-organic was checking the monitors showing  Starscream’s vital signs. He was still in stand-by, his condition having neither worsened nor bettered since her last check-up a few megacycles ago. Blackarachnia wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She supposed she should be glad he wasn’t going off-line at least. Megatrons was silent beside her, his optics firmly set on his second-in-command. She didn’t have the spark to tell him to leave and to be quite honest, there was no real need for her to do so either. It wasn’t like he was peeking over her shoulder non-stop. When Megatron hadn’t spend time getting to know their new human friends better, he had been in their makeshift med-bay, not saying or doing anything, just waiting for Starscream to wake up. Every time she came in, he would just mutely make room for her. The only time he had asked if she could tell him anything about his condition had been when he had entered the med-bay the morning after she had operated on Starscream to get his arm fixed on her behest. “We’ll just have to wait,” Blackarachnia had told him, trying hard to avoid his gaze by stubbornly busying herself with patching up his mangled servo. And that had been that. She finished her check on the monitor showing Starscream’s sparkbeats and ex-vented a little, turning to face Megatron. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but some time we have to discuss our next move. Particularly how we’re going to contact New Kaon.” She looked him right in the optics. “If what the humans say is to be believed, our crash-landing happened 50 of their years ago. And if my translations are correct, that means-” “We have been missing for 50 stellar cycles,” Megatron finished her sentence. There was fatigue in his voice. “I know. And you are right. Our main objective as of now should be to get in contact with our people. They need to know we haven’t perished. And that our expedition has been successful.” He ex-vented heavily, throwing one last look at Starscream and then turning towards the door. “Perhaps the humans can be of help. Their technology may not be as advanced as ours, but it has proven useful once already. If not communication, maybe we will at least be able to send a message.” Blackarachnia nodded, following him outside. When they entered the main hall they found themselves confronted by a very eager Blitzwing and not much less eager Amicable Archer standing on his shoulder. “Amicable Archer has just offered me to accompany him on one of his ‘patrols,” Blitzwing said, a wide smile on his face plate. “I feel that would help me learn more about the locals and their situation. With your permission, I would take him up on that offer.” Amicable Archer nodded. “Indeed! Methinks the metal knight would make a fine companion against Sumdac’s forces of evil.” Blackarachnia threw a cautious glance at Megatron. She knew he was usually more than capable of handling sudden requests, but it was safe to say the last few solar-cycles hadn’t really gone well for him. To her surprise, Megatron gave Blitzwing a soft smile with no trace of irritability or fatigue in it. “A good idea, Blitzwing. But do make sure to stay in contact. If this Sumdac is really as dangerous as our new friends say, he might well have something unpleasant waiting for us.” Blitzwing beamed. “I will! We will be back in about 2 megacycles.” “I doeth not know what that meaneth, but our watchful march should take no less than two hours,” Archer chimed in, putting his hands on his hips and striking a confident pose. __________________________________________________________ The two took off, Blitzwing transforming into jet mode in order to be less conspicuous. As Cyrus had told them in a rather bitter tone, drones flying their routes above Downtown wasn’t really anything special to the citizens and since everyone would be too busy keeping their head down and avoiding directly looking at whatever Sumdac aircraft was currently hovering over them, no one would notice that the jet was, in fact carrying someone. During their flight, Archer would occasionally point out places in which the resistance had fought (and won, as he never got tired to proudly proclaim) particularly tough battles against Sumdac’s forces. Ironically, the overlord’s stubborn refusal to use humans as well as robots in his newly instated police had made things a lot easier on the rebellion when it came to armed conflict. Since they weren’t in any danger of seriously harming some poor innocent sap who was forced to attack them they didn’t have to hold back and could use their bestowed weapons and abilities to their hearts’ content. As long as they made sure the civilians were evacuated first, of course. “After all, ‘tis our noble creed to protect the good people of Downtown from harm, not causeth them harm,” Archer said, crossing his arms and smiling proudly. “Funny,” Blitzwing mused. “We Decepticons have a similar ‘creed’, as you would say. We are programmed to respect and protect life at all costs. Before we came here, that usually meant the AllSpark. But you humans are life as well, which means we must protect you, too.” He paused for a second, before continuing: “Your little planet is so strange to me. You humans are so much smaller and so much more fragile than us and life has dealt you a heavy hand. Yet you just keep going and fighting the force that oppresses you, risking your life every time. It’s admirable, really.” “Oh, thou dost flatter, sir knight,” Archer chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “We doeth our best, but alas ‘tis not nearly enough to fully tame Overlord Sumdac’s forces, sadly. There art times I doth wish-” Archer suddenly interrupted himself and leaned forward to get a better look at the city passing below them. “Do I seeth smoke there?” A grey column rose in the distance before them, accompanied by a warm orange glow. “You humans have rather curious traditions,” Blitzwing said, chuckling nervously. Archer’s eyes widened. “Those arenst any traditions, friend! I knoweth these old factories, they have been shut down long ago when the tyrant Sumdac retreated the assembly of his armies into his fortress. Some of it’s old machinery musteth malfunctioned!” “But if I understand correctly, those buildings have long since been vacated. Why is it an issue if they get destroyed?” Blitzwing asked confused. “The fire couldeth take over to the city! Sumdac cares naught for the people who live here, so he will not send pawns to extinguish it in time if ever. We needeth to act!” Archer said, already fumbling for a particular arrow in his quiver. “Understood. Hang on tight, Archer.” Blitzwing turned towards the burning factory and put his thrusters to full power. Archer yelped as the sudden increase in velocity pressed him back into his seat. The two of them arrived and touched down a few meters away from the factory, Blitzwing transforming back into robot-mode as soon as the surrounding buildings hid them from sight. “Thankfully, our noble benefactor hast prepared me for this kind of calamity,” Archer beamed. He raised his hand to pull down a gas mask from a hidden pocket in his hat. The two took off into the fire. Blitzwing lowered his cannons, shooting ice beams into the highest fire walls. Ice crystals solidified in the spots the beams hit, suffocating the fire nigh instantly. Archer aimed arrows at the flames at his partner’s blind side, the tips of the projectiles releasing fire extinguishing foam upon exploding. In less than half an hour the fire was mostly under control, though Archer insisted on checking for any smaller flames they might have missed. They went deeper into the empty building, Archer lighting the way with yet another arrow. The ash and grime on the walls seemed to swallow the light as it hit them. The slowly melting ice created a steady background dripping. After the crackling and roaring of flames only a short time prior this place now seemed entirely too quiet. Archer had never liked places that were too quiet. It reminded him of... Cutting the memory off before it could fully form, Archer cleared his throat and stopped to turn to Blitzwing. “Well, it seemeth our work here is done. Shall we-” A quiet noise coming from the darkness interrupted him. It was a quiet, high-pitched sob, echoing from the high walls in an eerie manner. Blitzwing frowned. “It sounds like someone’s vocalizer is malfunctioning. Quite badly, in fact.” “We calleth that ‘crying’,” Archer said, slowly following the noise. “‘Tis a sign of distress and sadness among us humans. Though our youngest ones also often useth it to obtain things they doeth desire.” Not sure he entirely understood, Blitzwing followed the human. The light of the glowing arrow came upon a small human boy, curled up in the middle of the factory’s hall. His head was buried in his hands and he didn’t seem to have noticed them yet. Archer smiled warmly and approached the boy, extending a hand towards him. “Now what is a young one like you doing in a dismal place such as this? Didst thou get lost?” Blitzwing narrowed his optics. Something seemed off about this small organic. Archer had told him that humans were very susceptible to smoke and heat, to the point where it was impossible for them to function in an environment that had both aplenty. How had this little one be able to survive in here this long? And then the boy raised his head. It was only for a split-second and an organic eye wouldn’t have been able to catch it, but for a Cybertronians advanced optic it was visible enough. A flicker, like on a faulty monitor. Blitzwing’s optics widened. He jumped forward, servos closing around Archer’s body, just before an ear-shattering explosion blasted out the factory’s windows. ___________________________________________________________ Cyrus hated waiting. Especially if he had to wait alone. Sitting down and smelling the roses had never been his thing, not since Overlord Sumdac’s machines had overrun the city. Not that there had been many roses to smell after that. Aaron and Blitzwing had been gone for far too long for his liking now. And judging by the uneasy way Lugnut shifted beside him, he wasn’t the only one to think so. “Cyrus, was it not?” The voice startled him out of his thoughts and he jumped, looking upwards to meet Megatron’s worried blue....eyes? Lights? He wasn’t sure what they called it. It took him awhile to process what had been said to him. “Er, yeah. Yeah, that’s me.” “I do not mean to offend, but your human companion and Blitzwing have been gone for quite a while now. This patrol of yours, how long does it usually take?” Cyrus frowned. “Not that long actually. And seeing as they were doing it from a bird’s eye view it should’ve taken even less time today.” “I see,” Megatron answered. He seemed about as unsettled by this answer as Cyrus was. “Hey, um...you said you can stay in contact with each other, right?” Cyrus asked. Megatron nodded. “Maybe you should, y’know...contact him? Blitzwing? Just to be safe, I mean.” A penetrative beeping noise sprang up from Cyrus’ belt, making hism jump for the second time. “Sounds like somebody needs a check-up,” Blackarachnia pointed out. Cyrus looked down at the source of the noise, a small round device with a sleek white surface, his frown deepening. “No, that’s a distress signal. Archer, me and Pe- everyone else in the resistance has one of these communicators. We use it to call out to each other when we’re in a pinch.” He took the deice of the belt and tapped a button. “You okay, Archer? We’re all kind of starting to worry over here.” “As you should,” a metallic sounding voice responded. Megatron, Blackarachnia and Lugnut tensed up at hearing it, Blackarachnia even hissing slightly. “I must say, I never would have thought organics capable of constructing such a neat little communication device. It is remarkable primitive, but for your kind even that can be considered impressive.” Cyrus’ hand tightened around the communicator. “Who are you? What did you do with Archer?” “Nothing. Yet. And as for who I am...I am sure your new ‘allies’ can tell you more about that. We have met once before, after all,” the voice responded. Cyrus felt like he could hear the smug grin of its’ owner. He grit his teeth. “What do you want?” “First of all, I want to make sure that this is heard by the rest of the Decepticon-scum. Are they present?” “We are all here, Autobot,” Megatron answered, spitting out the word ‘Autobot’ like an insult. “I assume Blitzwing is with you as well?” “And you’d assume right,” the voice chuckled. “He is a bit worse for wear, but he’ll live...probably. Since you already deduced who I am, I will skip the introductions and get straight to the point. I know you are in possession of the AllSpark. And if you want your comrade and your precious little organic pet back, you will give it to me.” Megatron glared at the communicator in Cyrus’ hand. “We will need time to think about your offer. Give us a megacycle to debate.” “Stalling won’t help you, Decepticon-scum,” the voice spat. “But if you insist on wasting your friends’ time, you shall have your megacycle. And when it has passed, I expect to see you at these coordinates, with the AllSpark.” A light in the device flickered and it went out. Cyrus pressed another button on the surface, hurrying over to a control panel attached to a monitor and connecting the communicator with it. The screen flared to life, showing a map of Downtown with a small red dot flaring up to mark a specific spot. “I know that place,” Cyrus said, leaning forward. “It’s one of the abandoned factories on the other side of the city.” He turned back to the Decepticons, face hard. “If we hurry, we can make it there in under half an hour. We have to leave, now.” “Cyrus, it is not that simple,” Megatron said calmly. “We cannot rush into this without thinking. If this Autobot gets the AllSpark into his servos, this entire planet will be at risk.” “You’re not seriously suggesting that we’re refusing, are you?” Blackarachnia asked incredulously. “He’s got Blitzwing! And who knows what he’ll do to that human!” “Yeah, what she said!” Cyrus spoke up. “I’m not leaving Aaron with some crazy alien murder machine! I thought you Decepticons were the good guys and now you’re actually considering letting two hostages get who knows what done to them?” “You are both far too emotional.” Lugnut had stood up from his place on the assembly line and was now glaring at both Cyrus and Blackarachnia. “For once, I agree with Megatron. Handing the AllSpark over to the Autobot Empire is certain death. Two lives are not worth the prize of billions.” “So that’s it?” Blackarachnia asked, narrowing her optics at him. “We just let Blitzwing and the human die?” “We all must make sacrifices for the greater good,” Lugnut said gravely. “Do you think this is easy for me, Blackarachnia?” “I don’t know,” she hissed. “Isn’t it?” “Enough, both of you,” Megatron cut her off. “This is no time to argue amongst ourselves. Lugnut, I agree that the AllSpark must be kept from the wrong servos at all costs.” The big Decepticon straightened himself and opened his mouth to say something, but Megatron wasn’t finished. “However, I also share Blackarachnia’s feelings on the matter. We have already almost lost a fellow Decepticon yesterday. I do not wish to experience that again. Neither should an innocent human become victim of our wars.” Megatron turned and walked over to Cyrus, kneeling down in front of him. “Cyrus. You have stated that you know the place the Autobot has chosen for the exchange. Do you know it well enough to show one of us the ways around and inside it?” Cyrus nodded. “Yes, I think so. Aaron and I used to scout out these buildings regularly, in case we needed another hideout.” “Good,” Megatron said. “Then I would ask you to help us to prepare a nasty little surprise for our Autobot-friend. Though I must warn you, it won’t be without risk.” “Eh, what else is new?” Cyrus answered, giving a grin. “If it’ll knock that kidnapper down a few pegs, count me in!” Megatron smirked. “Oh, I should hope that it does. Here is what I need you to do...” ______________________________________________________________ Hothead rebooted to a a voice frantically calling Blitzwing’s name. In his processor he identified it as belonging to the organic who called himself Amicable Archer and whom Blitzwing had, apparently successfully, tried to protect from a booby trapped hologram. He groaned in annoyance, forcing the rest of his systems to reboot so he could access the situation and more importantly get Archer to stop yelling at him. His optical sensors reactivated slowly and he lifted his helm to see Archer standing on his chest, only a few centimeters away from his face-plate. Hothead quickly scanned the human’s body for any damage. Aside from a few tears in his costume and some grime on his face, Archer seemed unharmed. “Will you stop yelling at me, human?” Hothead snapped, still only half rebooted vocalizer making his voice sound hoarse. “My audials are functioning quite nicely.” Archer blinked in confusion and took a few steps backwards, but then shook his head as if recovering from some kind of stupor. “My apologies, friend. Thou seemeth to be rendered unconscious from that explosion and with the way the ghastly shadow knight treated thou, I wasnth sure you wouldeth make it.” He paused for a moment, as if uncertain about what to say next. “I couldeth not stop noticing that thine visage seemeth to have changed, along with thine manner of speech and demeanor. Artst thou truly not hurt?” Hothead ex-vented slightly. “No, I am alright. It is a long story. I am not the Blitzwing you know.. Let us leave it at that for now.” Suddenly remembering Archer’s earlier words, he frowned. “Who did you mean by ghastly knight? What-?” He tried to sit up and found that he couldn’t move his arms. A hastly look downward, revealed that someone had wound a thick metal cable tightly around his upper body, pinning his arms to his sides and keeping his cannons from lowering. Archer looked at him miserably. “I tried to stop him, but he tooketh my weapons and threatened to hurt thee.” “Not that he would have been able to stop me even with them. But I wanted to stay on the safe side. You never know with organics.” Hothead and Archer turned their head towards the source of the voice. A slender-looking Autobot with white armor-plating and a red triangular visor covering both of his optics was leaning on against the opposite wall with his servos crossed, giving a smug smirk. “I see you’ve finally decided to join us.” Hothead growled, trying to break his bonds. “You! I remember you, you cowardish, puny Autobot! Release me at once!” The Autobot chuckled. “So you can slag me like you almost did last time? I think not. And I’d advise you to behave.” He lowered his helm, so his line of sight now aligned with Archer. “You wouldn’t want anything to happen to the organic, would you?” “Touch him and you’ll burn, Autobot!” Hothead snarled. “Always so barbaric. You Decepticon-scum really are just mindless war machines,” the Autobot ex-vented in mock disappointment. “The only thing your kind is good for is destruction. Yet here you are, pretending like you’re actually capable of protecting anything.” Hothead flinched and grit his denta, lowering his helm. “Thou art wrong!” Both Hothead and the Autobot turned to look at Archer in surprise, who had lifted himself up to his full height and was now glaring at the Autobot. “Mine companion mayeth possess fearsome battle prowess, but that doeseth not make him less of a knight! He didst protect me from thy nefarious trap after all, didst he not?” For a moment, neither of the two Cybertronians said a word. Then the Autobot laughed. “You’ve certainly trained him well! If he was a little bigger he’d probably be easier to take seriously too, don’t you think?” Before Hothead could answer, the Autobot raised his helm as if listening for something, then put a digit to his auidal and smirked. “I’d love to stay and chat, but it looks like your friends just arrived with my AllSpark.” He walked out of the room, pressing a button on the other side of the entrance. A metal door slowly closed on cue. The Autobot grinned at them before it closed fully. “Don’t go anywhere.” _______________________________________________________ Megatron and Blackarachnia made their way into the burnt out building, carrying the AllSpark between them. Blackarachnia grimaced at the heavy smoke-smell in the air. It wasn’t bad enough to have a negative impact on her organic half but still strong enough to make her a bit uncomfortable. “Are you alright, Blackarachnia?” Megatron asked, giving her a worried look. “I can carry the AllSpark by myself, if you feel unwell.” Blackarachnia shook her helm. “I’m good. We should focus on getting Blitzwing and Archer back.” They stopped in the center of the hall, carefully lowering their cargo to the ground. “I see you’ve used your time well.” Blackarachnia and Megatron whirled around, taking defensive positions. Behind them stood an Autobot, servos crossed and an extremely smug expression on his face plate. Blackarachnia’s optics widened. “I know him! He was one of the ‘bots who boarded the ‘Nemesis’.” The Autobot laughed. “So you remember me? I’m flattered.” “I remember you getting your sorry soulanoid kicked by us,” Blackarachnia sneered. “Figures a spineless wimp like you would result to taking hostages.” The Autobot gave a derisive huff and put a hand on his hip, looking both of them over. “The name is Prowl. Though after this is over I won’t stay here long enough to get more acquainted.” His visor set itself on the AllSpark. “Leave it here and retreat.” “I think not, Autobot,” Megatron said coolly, stepping forward and drawing his sword. “Let us see the hostages first.” Prowl gave him an irritated look. “You will see them once I have the AllSpark. Now step away.” Instead of answering, Megatron gestured Blackarachnia to step aside, raising his sword over the AllSpark. “I do not like to repeat myself, Prowl. Release the hostages or I will destroy the AllSpark.” Prowl stiffened. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Wouldn’t I?” Megatron responded coldly, returning Prowl’s glare with steady optics. The Autobot hesitated, standing in place. Time seemed to stand still as the three Cybertronians stood off against each other, trying to figure out the enemy’s next move. _________________________________________________________ “Are you certain this is the right place?” Lugnut asked, optic trained on the wall in front of him. Cyrus was currently feeling said wall with both of his hands, teeth grit in frustration. “Give me a break, I haven’t been here in weeks! Ah, there we go.” He peeled off a part of the wall, revealing a hidden panel and pressed one of the buttons. Cyrus stepped back and watched nervously as the seemingly solid steel folded in on itself to form an entrance about Lugnut’s size. “Gotta be honest with you, I had no idea if this old  delivery gate even still worked. We found it some time during our second or third visit here and noted it as a possible emergency exit, if we ever decided to camp here. Guess I’m glad we didn’t now.” They entered the building together, treading carefully. After a while, Lugnut suddenly grabbed Cyrus carefully with his claw, making him yelp in surprise and placed him on his shoulder. “It is dark in here. I do not wish to step on you by accident,”he stated, when Cyrus gave him a confused look. “Er..thanks.” Cyrus stood up and balanced himself on the side of Lugnut’s helm. “Though maybe give a little warning next time.” Lugnut nodded. “Understood.” They made their way through the halls, Lugnut’s searchlights showing them the way. “Pick anything up yet?” Cyrus asked, stretching to look ahead into the darkness. “A faint Decepticon-signal, but it is dampened. Blitzwing must be damaged to some capacity.” Lugnut’s optic shrunk, an expression Cyrus had learned to identify as his version of a scowl. “The Autobot-filth will regret this.” “I hear ya,” Cyrus growled. “Still got a bone to pick with that guy for kidnapping Aaron.” Lugnut and Cyrus followed the signal until they came to a locked heavy metal door, not unlike the hidden one Cyrus had used to get them in. “The signal is clearest here,” Lugnut said, eyeing the door up and down. “They must be close.” “Great! Put me down, so I can-” Before Cyrus had the chance to finish his sentence, Lugnut retracted his right arm and rammed it into the door full-force. A loud crash, amplified by the echo of the empty hallway rung through the air. ______________________________________________________________ As soon as the sound reached the hall, Prowl whirled around. “What the-?” Blackarachnia lunged for him before he could run - only for her servos to close around nothing as the hologram of Prowl disappeared into thin air. She caught herself, cursing. “Slag! Of course he’d use that trick again.” “That was a mistake, Decepticon,” Prowl’s voice came from the shadows around them, impossible to pin down. “Your friends will not appreciate this.” Blackarachnia and Megatron positioned themselves back to back, searching the darkness for some hint of their opponent. “He has us pinned,” Megatron said through grit denta. “If we move he will either attack or flee without us even seeing him.” “Yeah, he- wait, seeing?” Blackarachnia’s optics widened. “That’s it! How was he able to react us in exactly the right way, if he was never really here? He has to have been close by. It was the same on the ‘Nemesis’! He attacked Lugnut right after his hologram was destroyed, as if he was just a few steps away.” She turned her helm to Megatron. “Fire your cannon about a few mechanometers to the right!” Megatron raised his free arm and fired at the spot she had pointed out. A startled yell came from the area the shot had hit and a heavy ‘clunk!’ filled the hall. The Decepticons turned, Megatron aiming his searchlight towards the sound. Prowl lay on the floor, glaring up at them and holding his left servo. It was almost entirely shot off, only a fracture of a base skeleton and a few sparking cables remaining. “You’ll regret this,” he growled, pushing himself to his pedes and taking a shaky step towards them. Before either of the three could do anything further, the door behind him was blown open, shrouding the room in smoke. When it cleared again, Lugnut stepped into the room, Cyrus and Archer riding on his right shoulder, while he supported a limping Hothead on his left. “Where is that  Autobot-filth?” Hothead shouted, trying and failing to push himself away from Lugnut and stand on his own servos. “I will incinerate him! Let me go!” “Thou art barely able to stand, friend,” Archer chuckled. “Perhaps thy vengeance can waiteth until a time thou art well again?” “Listen to the human, Hothead,” Lugnut said. Hothead growled, but he stopped struggling. “Hey guys,” Cyrus called to Blackarachnia and Megatron. “Where is that Autobot?” Megatron looked around, frowning. “It appears he has gotten away.” “And he didn’t exactly leave us with good wishes,” Blackarachnia added grimly. “We should go after him.” Megatron thought for a moment, then shook his helm. “We should get Blitzwing and the AllSpark to safety first. The Autobot was hurt. He will not come far.” After gathering up the AllSpark and Blackarachnia doing a quick patching up of Hothead’s wounds, the group took off in vehicle mode, Cyrus and Blackarachnia riding on Lugnut, while Archer remained with Hothead. When they arrived back at the resistance’s base, they were greeted by a bust-in entrance. Rubble from the door was strewn about and destroyed Sumdac-drones littered the area. “What the spark happened here?” Blackarachnia exclaimed. “Oh nothing to worry about really,” a familiar voice answered her. Megatron perked up upon hearing it, hope and joy filling his optics. Could it be-? It was. Starscream stepped out from the base’s entrance, smiling. “It is good to see you all again. Though we did have everything under control.” He turned his helm and raised his hand to give a (very gentle and disproportionate) high-five to a small girl with short pink hair who had made herself comfortable on his shoulder plate. “Hi Cyrus, hi Aaron,” she beamed, waving a wand-like object with a glowing tip at the two other humans. “I made a new friend!” _________________________________________________________ Prowl dragged himself through the empty narrow side streets, flinching every time his ripped off arm emitted a spark. This solar cycle had not gone at all like he imagined. As if waking up on this primitive planet wasn’t bad enough, that disgusting techno-organic had actually managed to see through his technique and now he would have to spend precious time to find a repair shop. At least things couldn’t possibly get any worse. A metallic noise sounded to his right and he turned his helm. A large assembly of drones, a sinister-looking ‘S’ engraved on their torsos stood there. “Energy signature match,” they chanted in unison. “Retrieve subject. Return to base. Retrieve subject. Return to base. Retrieve-”

[violetnuisance]

Wake Up

pairing: Sal Fisher/Larry Johnson

rating: T

words: 3,224

summary: Sal rambles to Larry while the brunet’s in a coma.

a/n: Hi, my Sally Face discord server has monthly art/writing challenges. July’s theme was “Hospital,” so this is my submission. Here’s the link to the server: https://discord.gg/kYtz72e

Sal stood awkward, one hand clasped around the bouquet of peonies he had spray painted black while the other hand tightly gripped a “Get Well Soon!” card, no doubt creasing it. His mind felt numb as he stood and stared at his best friend who laid unconscious in the hospital bed that dominated the tiny room. Larry had definitely seen his better days. His hair was unkempt, sticking up every which way, and the dark circles underneath his eyes only seemed to worsen as his stay at the hospital progressed, having lasted two weeks already. Despite the doctors and nurses reassuring a stressed Lisa and Sal that Larry was in stable condition and would most likely make a swell recovery, the bluenet was still worried. Every day that passed that Johnson didn’t wake up, his stress only skyrocketed.

 What if Larry had severe brain damage that the doctors didn't notice? What if he woke up in a vegetative state? What if he didn’t wake up?

Sal tried to shake the thoughts and padded over to the small nightstand beside Larry’s bed. An array of wilted flowers and still-enveloped cards littered the desk. Sal tried not to think about how most of the bouquets would be dead by the time Larry woke up as he set his own down. The falsely black flowers stood out against the pink ones everyone else had left, and Sal felt a sort of sick satisfaction. Larry had told him about how someone needed to genetically engineer a solid black flower. He couldn’t remember the context of the conversation, but he remembered how much they had laughed about it. A smile threatened to tug at his lips from beneath his prosthetic, but the urge was quickly destroyed. He shouldn’t have left Larry alone that night.

Sal laid on his stomach on the treehouse’s splintered floor, a lit cigarette between his lips and his prosthetic at his side. Larry laid on his back beside him, shirt pushed up, exposing his stomach, as he stretched. The sun outside was quickly setting, but that didn’t mean Sal couldn’t still make out a trail of soft brown hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of the other’s jeans in the treehouse’s dimness. The sight made him itch, curiosity lighting him ablaze. He smushed the notion quickly forming in his head down and took the cigarette from his lips, blowing a trail of smoke. Larry looked at him, a dopey grin on his face. Something had piqued the brunet’s interest, and he rolled onto his side, facing Sal.

“We should shotgun, baby blue,” Larry laughed, voice airy and light. Sal rolled his good eye at him. 

“No one shotguns cigarette smoke,” Sal stated. His fingers brought the stick back up to his mouth. Over the years, he had become a master at hiding his reactions from Larry’s random quips. The brunet had the worst habit of cracking jokes that made Sal’s heart pitter-patter pathetically in his chest. Still, at the thought of Larry’s lips on his, he could feel the tips of his ears growing warm. Before the brunet could notice the pink tint, Sal turned his head and blew smoke into the other’s face. The bluenet let out a snort as Larry wrinkled his nose in slight disgust. “You act like you don’t smoke a pack a day.”

“Doesn’t mean the smell has grown on me,” Larry rebuffed, rubbing the back of his hand across his nose. Sal shook his head, bangs bouncing against his forehead.

“Are you trying to tell me I stink?” Larry laughed again, and the sound rumbled through Sal’s chest. He had always been especially fond of his friend’s voice, and Larry’s laughter always caused a weird sense of nostalgia to fall over him, like he was returning home after exploring the world for years. The brunet took the cigarette from Sal while he was lost in thought.

 “Don’t worry, we can stink together,” Larry assured, a wolfish grin on his face. Sal watched silently as Larry placed the cigarette between his lips before sucking gently. The bluenet should’ve seen the next action coming, but he really hadn’t.

“Oh, c’mon dude,” Sal groaned as Larry blew the smoke into his face. He waved a hand around dramatically, trying to clear the vapor. “You’re such a… such a rat!”

“Your vernacular never ceases to astound me, bluebird,” Larry mocked, passing the cigarette back to Sal. Sal took it in hand, watching in slight interest as Larry sat up before standing and walked over to the mini fridge he had hooked up. The shorter male’s interest turned to dread as his lanky friend pulled out a bottle, caramel liquid sloshing inside of it. 

“I thought you were stopping that,” Sal complained, the words pushing out automatically. His eyes narrowed as Larry used the end of his shirt to help pop the cap off the bottle. Immediately, the sickening cat-pee smell of beer assaulted Sal’s senses.

“I said I’d try to stop, and I did try,” Larry corrected before bringing the bottle to his lips. Sal cringed as he watched the other’s adam’s apple bob, swallowing the drink down. The shorter male grimaced and reached for his prosthetic. The brunet watched as Sal stubbed the cigarette out against the floor, leaving a burn mark. Larry had chastised him about it multiple times before, but Sal didn’t care at the moment. “Where are you going?”

Sal stared at Larry as he clasped his straps into place at the back of his head. “You know how I feel about your drinking problem,” he chastised, moving to his feet.

The bluenet had never been a fan of alcohol. Before his mom had passed, both of his grandparents on his dad’s side had been raging alcoholics. His mom wouldn’t let them see their grandkid unless they tried to recover. They chose the bottle. And then, after his mom’s death, his father had fallen into the same state. He drank his days away until Sal found him passed out on the floor from alcohol poisoning. After a few days in the hospital, his dad sobered up. As soon as they got back home, they both equipped themselves with plastic trash bags and threw out all the alcohol. Sal thought that would be the last he’d ever have to see of alcoholism, but now Larry was running down the same reckless path. The bluenet didn’t know why, and the other refused to open up to him.

“It’s not a problem-”

“Yes it is, Larry! How do you not see that?” Sal was fuming, his hands balled into fists at his sides. The brunet stood stiff, surprised by the emotional outburst. “There’s a difference between responsible drinking and alcoholism. And you, my friend, crossed that boundary months ago.” Sal’s voice came out quieter now, a tremble in his tone. He didn’t know if he was angry or despairful, but he knew the tears would start flowing either way if he didn’t leave. 

By god, he had hoped Larry would stop him on the way out, but the brunet hadn’t, and the next morning Sal got a phone call from Lisa, explaining that her son had gone into an alcohol poisoning induced coma.

Larry’s chest rose and fell with his breaths, and Sal wished the brunet would crack his eyes open and offer a coy smile, saying this was some prank all along. Of course, nothing of the sort happened. Sal’s gaze traveled to the plastic chair sitting at the bed’s side. Lisa had been sitting there before Sal came in, talking to the unresponsive male. Apparently the nurses had told her that stimulating Larry’s main senses could help rouse him, so the woman had done everything in the book. She rambled to him about her day every time she visited after work, constantly held his hand and kissed his cheek every time she left, and she had even brought and lit candles in the room from their apartment. Before she had given Sal privacy with Larry, she urged him to talk to the brunet. Sal had denied the notion, saying he wouldn’t stay that long, but now he felt himself sitting down in the uncomfortable chair.

For a moment, he just sat, not knowing what to say. But soon enough, the words flowed smoothly. “You’re such an idiot,” Sal whispered, feeling uncomfortable breaking the silence. He glanced around, half expecting a nurse to come in and chastise him for being loud. When that didn’t happen, he continued. “I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but I told you so. I read you an online article of this exact thing happening. My dad’s binge drinking wasn't even this bad. God, I can’t believe you cut off the oxygen flow to your brain, and still, somehow, survived getting severe brain damage. Lisa thought you were dead when she found you!”

Sal felt his cheeks wetten as he continued to rant, everything surging up at once. His eyes glanced warily around the room. The only window was a small one in the door. Taking a chance, Sal took off his prosthetic and set it in his lap. He hated how the material would cling to his skin when he was sweating or crying. “I don’t know what happened to you. You were obviously using it as some sort of coping mechanism, but I have no idea what for. You became so closed off, and you scared me. I thought you would eventually discard me. I guess you’re still going to disappear from my life for at least a month or two. You’re going to a rehabilitation center after you wake up,” Sal paused, voice growing meek, “God, please wake up.”

Once more, silence invaded the room. Sal blinked, trying to clear his vision from where it had grown blurry from tears. He could still feel a few wet trails rolling down his face, but he felt better. Most of the torrent had been released. 

When he could see again, his gaze trailed to Larry’s hand. It laid at the brunet’s side, black nail polish mostly chipped off. Sal took in into his hand without thinking. He guided Larry’s fingers to interlock with his own. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll tell you a secret right now, and you'll wake up and tell me why you were so committed to destroying your life.” Sal paused. Despite Larry not being able to hear him, he still felt like he was putting his heart on the line. Both of his hands clasped at Larry’s hand, grounding himself.

 “I really, really like you Johnson. Don’t let that inflate your already bursting ego because you absolutely don't deserve the compliment right now. But everytime you laugh and show off that stupid ass toothgap, I want to punch you because in those moments I just want to lean over and kiss you, and I know I can’t. Maybe if you wake up, we can try shotgunning cigarette smoke before you leave even though that’s the most idiotic idea you’ve ever come up with,” Sal laughed before bringing Larry’s hand up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back of the brunet’s hand. “If you can’t wake up for yourself, please wake up for me and Lisa.”

It was the next day when Larry came to. Sal had been getting ready to shower when Lisa called him. He had been ready to come right away, grime and all, but Lisa stopped him. Apparently Larry was in a minimally conscious state. He’d wake up for a few minutes, confused as to where he was, and then pass out again. The grogginess would most likely wear off after a few days, and Lisa promised to call him again when her son was alert enough to carry out a conversation with someone.

The two day wait between the initial phone call and the second were absolute Hell to Sal. Even his father had picked up on his nervous energy, ordering a pizza and renting a movie the first night to help Sal calm down. The second night was when Lisa called again, and Sal made it to the hospital in record time.

When he arrived, he was delighted to find out that Larry was still in tact. There would be no outstanding injuries except for a headache. However, he couldn't barge in and tackle Larry right away because Lisa was still visiting him, so Sal sat in the waiting room, legs bouncing. He could’ve cried in relief when Lisa walked into the room, twenty minutes later. He made himself wait and speak to the woman before making a break for it.

“Sorry for taking so long, but I have the Mom Privilege to get to see my son first,” Lisa joked, a warm smile on her face. Sal stood upon the greeting, his body swaying from side to side in anticipation. “But I can assure you he’s excited to see you. Yesterday, every time he woke up, he always mentioned your name. Just try not to over excite him.”

“Yes ma’am, I’ll try my best.” Lisa’s smile broadened before she pulled Sal into a hug.

“I’ve told you, just call me Lisa,” she chastised before breaking the embrace. However, her hands still gripped Sal’s shoulders. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you! Larry remembers what was said to him during his coma. He doesn’t remember every conversation explicitly, but he definitely remembers the gist of everything. I hope you didn’t insult him while you visited him the other day.”

Sal was too excited for Lisa’s words to sink in. He just mumbled out a quick, “oh, okay,” before taking off to Larry’s room. Lisa had left the door open upon her exit, so the blunet could just slip right in and close it behind him. As soon as the door shut, Larry perked, sitting up. 

“Fisher!” Larry’s hair was an absolute bird’s nest, hair enveloping his head like a lion’s mane. His eyes were also red, an indicator that he had been crying recently. Sal supposed Lisa’s talk with him couldn't have been entirely sunshine and rainbows. He, too, was sure that he’d berate Larry later, but he was too happy to see that his friend was alive and well to do it right away.

“Larry!” Sal ignored Lisa’s desire to not over excite Larry for the time being and barreled halfway over the bed’s railing, enveloping the other in a hug. The brunet let out a surprised chuckle before wrapping his arms around Sal.

“If you pushed yourself any further onto here, you’d practically be laying on the bed with me,” Larry teased, his grip around Sal tightening.

“Shut up, I missed you, you oaf,” Sal mumbled, voice muffled by his prosthetic, and the fact that his face was pressed into Larry’s shoulder. “Don’t you ever scare us like that again!”

Larry didn’t say anything at the remark, and Sal didn't press. He was content to just hug the other for awhile. However, the cramped position wasn’t allowing him to breathe all that great through his prosthetic, so he pulled away. Larry stared hard at him as he dug his fingers beneath the prosthetic’s surface, pulling it away from his skin a little to get some fresh air. “You should just take it off,” Larry advised.

Sal looked from him and then back to the door’s window. “But someone could see,” he opposed. He had already risked it once, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to do that again.

“I highly doubt it. Your back’s to the window, and I could tell you if someone was coming in,” Larry countered, a sudden fierceness to his voice. Sal hesitated. “I mean, only if you want to. You obviously don't have to.”

There was a second more of hesitance before Sal decided it'd be okay to shed the prosthetic. Larry looked at him like a giddy puppy as he undid the straps and set the device down on the table. The brunet held his arms out for a hug again, and Sal couldn't help the small smile that graced his features. “You’re such an idiot,” Sal quipped, holding his own arms out.

“I know,” Larry smirked as Sal leaned over the bed again. Instead of the hug the blunet was expecting, the other grabbed his forearms and pulled him down closer, planting their lips together. Sal jerked back as if electrocuted. 

“What-”

“Did Mom not tell you?” Larry’s gaze was searching, hands still clasping onto Sal’s arms. Sal shook his head, confusion etched onto his face. “That I could hear you when you talked to me?”

“Oh,” Sal simply responded. Lisa had told him that, but he had been too dense to realize what exactly that entailed. As it dawned on him, he could feel a blush travelling up his neck.

“Oh,” Larry mocked, over exaggerating his facial features. Sal glared at him, and the idiot had the audacity to grin, tip of his tongue poking out from between his teeth. “I can’t believe baby blue has a crush on me! When were you going to tell me?”

“Oh, shut up,” Sal complained, the tips of his ears a vibrant red. He felt like he was back in high school, blushing every time Ash happened to look in his direction. He didn’t appreciate it.

“Make me,” Larry teased back, bushy eyebrows wagging. He looked from Larry’s eyes to his lips and then back up again. He still needed two things confirmed.

“You like me?” Larry rolled his eyes at the first inquiry, and Sal swallowed the urge to throttle him.

“I wouldn’t be offering to kiss you if I didn’t,” he answered, tone matter-of-fact. Sal couldn’t help but smile before dampening the mood with the next question.

“You’re going to actually try this time, right? You’re going to try in rehab, right? I can’t have you having another episode and actually lose you,” Sal whispered. Larry faltered, tongue dampening his chapped lips. The bluenet could see the other’s eyes dampen again, not quite shedding tears, but he needed to know. 

“Yes, I promise,” Larry replied. His hands tightened around Sal’s arms, trying to prove his earnesty. “Now can I have my kiss?”

Sal nodded, leaning down again. Larry met him in the middle and gently pressed their lips together. It was just a quick peck before they pulled away, but then the brunet had Sal by the collar of his shirt, dragging him in for another kiss. The bluenet let him, his own hands coming to rest against the sides of Larry’s face. Sal had always thought that if the chance of Larry touching him- kissing him -ever came up, the sensation would be overbearing and set him alight. However, the action just sent a welcome warmth through his body, much like the same feeling he got when listening to Larry laugh.

“We have to do that more often,” Larry murmured as they pulled away, eyelashes fluttering and cheeks red. Sal thought it was cruel someone could be so beautiful. “But when are we going to shotgun cigarette smoke? You did say we could do that if I woke up.”

The mood was effectively broken. “Oh god, I hate you,” Sal whined, causing Larry to chuckle.

“I love you too, Sally Face.”

[sepublic]

Energy Leeches

           Centuries of research, experiment, and resources had been funneled by Makuta into devising ways to most efficiently harvest Life energy from any source possible, in particular the souls of the Okotans. By studying the way Masks of Power could drain a wearer’s life energy when removed suddenly and without permission, as well as various other sources of inspiration such as the properties of materials that could conduct life energy well, and so forth, Makuta finally created the ideal creature.

           Born by splicing the DNA of countless creatures, as well as a few gene splices of his own choosing, original coding, and mutations, Makuta created the first egg that would later hatch into the original Energy Leech; Jumala.

           A ravenous, simple-minded creature by nature, Jumala was the precedent for all subsequent Energy Leeches. He was a leech-like creature with a bulbous head, and soft, slightly translucent orange skin. He had two large, bulging eyes on either side of his head, and his suction mouth was lined with five curved fangs to latch onto victims with and drain their energy. His body was smooth, wet, and flexible, with bones –if he had them- being incredibly soft. His tail was long, slightly flattened at the end, and along his midsection were three short, trailing appendages like smaller tails or tentacles, to help him maneuver and move around.

           [In other words, Energy Leeches are the Sea Squids from Bionicle G1, but bigger and longer.]

           An amphibious creature, Jumala the Energy Leech could breathe in land and water, although was most adept in aquatic environments and preferred them. Most notable of all, however, was Jumala’s ability to latch onto prey, and through his five fangs, pierce their bodies and begin draining their life force until nothing was left.

           Such a process would leave a victim a dried-out, emaciated husk of their former selves, and the energy-draining process was even more efficient and faster than the machinations Makuta had installed below the City of the Mask Makers. As a deliberate design choice, Makuta ensured that Jumala’s nature left him constantly hungering and ravenous for life energy, draining multiple beings in order to satisfy himself.

Cruelly, to not only encourage Jumala and his successors’ ruthlessness and efficiency in draining power, as well as to keep as much life energy for himself as possible, Makuta intentionally starved his Energy Leech. Upon draining a certain amount of energy, Makuta in turn would have Jumala plugged into a machination that would transfer the stored life force inside Jumala, leaving him with barely enough to keep his life processes going.

Despite this blatant abuse, Jumala continued to be in his father’s servitude, knowing nothing else and not wanting to put forth the effort of forging a new life for himself. After forging a larger, stronger exterior body for Jumala (like he did for Fenrakk), Makuta proceeded to mass-produce several nests of eggs containing gestating Energy Leeches, and waited for them to mature and hatch. Due to the recent, uncertain nature of his creations, Makuta was unable to send the Energy Leeches after the Okotans during the Skull Spider Wars.

Shortly after the Battle for the City of the Mask Makers, Makuta’s first wave of Energy Leech eggs hatched. Triumphant, Makuta conditioned and starved his new army, and alongside his remaining Brotherhood forces and the second generation of Skull Spiders, sent them to attack the Okotans. Many Okotans died, their life force suddenly sucked from their bodies without warning as they were ambushed by these strange, organic creatures they had no precedent for. Although the first attacks yielded plenty of life energy, Makuta unsurprisingly hoarded most of it for himself and his experiments, leaving the Energy Leeches who actually fought for their food with barely any of their spoils.

In the ensuing battles that occurred, Makuta ensured loyalty from the Energy Leeches by brutally cracking down on any attempts to leave the Brotherhood and escape into the wilderness for a better, more nutritious life. He even dabbled in and experimented with a few techniques, such as purposely getting some Energy Leech broods addicted to drugs in order to ensure they always came back to him for additional doses.

As the war continued, the Okotans learned to better adapt to the techniques of the Energy Leeches, but nevertheless found themselves horrified by the slimy, fleshy creatures. Worst of all was how much of an invasive species they were, constantly sucking the energy not just from Okotans, but from any nearby flora and fauna, and even inorganic features such as stones or fire (the latter which burned themselves in the process, but the Energy Leeches were starving and ravenous anyway). Led by Jumala, Lord of Energy Leeches, the creatures began to severely damage Okoto’s environment by attacking various species and draining areas of their energy. Places were rendered desolate by the Energy Leech attacks, with some resembling brief accounts of Okoto during the moments it had all of its energy drained by the Mask of Life.

Likewise, the Energy Leeches weren’t inherently tied to the existence of their Lord, unlike the first generation of Skull Spiders, so if Jumala died the rest would continue functioning as normal. The Energy Leeches were without a doubt Okoto’s worst parasites and invasive species, causing destruction on what would be an unprecedented level had it not been for the Great Cataclysm. Discussions were made about wiping out the species in the wake of Makuta’s defeat, although some felt it was unfair on behalf of the Energy Leeches, who had been designed and made this way without input, and suggested preserving them in stasis instead.

The scourge of the Energy Leeches was already terrifying enough… But then it would soon worsen to levels that not even their creator Makuta had anticipated.

During his alliance with Umarak the Hunter, Makuta entrusted a few Energy Leeches in his care, curious to see how Umarak would tame the creatures. Umarak, detesting them as horrific abominations of nature who senselessly devoured with no end in sight, declined to preserve the gluttonous creatures in The Darkness Below. So instead, he pawned them off into the care of one of his personal allies he’d recruited for the war.

This ally was given the strict feeding requirements of the Energy Leeches, as well as the ways in which they would be taken care of, disciplined, etc., and… Promptly forgot about it. Instead, he just shoved them all into an underground lake, and taking one good look at their entire stash of food meant to be spread out across several months, instead threw it all in with them, figuring the Energy Leeches would engorge themselves, be full for months, and THEN he could later come back to check on them. Such a feeding exercise was unprecedented due to Makuta’s aforementioned greed, and that night one brood of Energy Leeches felt a fullness and contentment their species had never known…

Within the next few weeks, one of Makuta’s agents in that ally’s command, a recently-inducted Okotan who was still of flesh and blood, was ordered to check up on the Leeches and feed them. Unknowing of how they had been fed beforehand, the supervisor came in with buckets of food, loudly signaling for them to come, knowing his status as a Brotherhood agent would keep him safe, for the Energy Leeches feared Makuta’s wrath most of all.

At first, came no response from the underground lake, no movements. Getting annoyed, the agent began loudly banging the metal pots with a tool, until he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned…

…Just in time to see a strange, large creature emerge from the darkened waters, viciously flapping its wings as it fluttered maniacally towards him. Yelling, the agent attempted to fight back against this creature that, while new, somehow seemed very familiar to the Energy Leeches he was supposed to find, and quickly found himself ganged up upon by several other Leeches. Within seconds there was barely an emaciated husk, and soon even thatwas devoured as well.

The ally of Umarak soon after came in to check on the progress, saw several newly-grown, mutated Energy Leeches, and surprised and unsure of what to do, contacted Umarak, who in turn came to the area with Makuta’s summoned spirit. A surprised Makuta listened to what Umarak’s ally had done, and although partly angry at him for not listening, was ultimately more preoccupied by the novel discovery he’d made.

In all his experimentation, Makuta had never anticipated such a growth, and speculated that because the Energy Leeches were able to keep the life force they’d drained and properly digest it, were soon afterwards mutated by the power of the life energy and metamorphosized into larger, winged creatures. Umarak, no doubt sarcastically asking why Makuta had starved literally every Energy Leech since their creation, pointed out that he counted far too few mutated Energy Leeches. There should’ve been way more, and yet there wasn’t…

It was suggested by his ally that maybe the mutated brood ate the others to feed and fuel their transformation and sudden change in metabolism and dietary requirements, but Umarak used the shadows to feel throughout the area and felt an unseen exit in the underground lake, leading outside…

And sure enough, he investigated this hidden pathway and found a trail of dried husks, most of them dust scattered about. Further along the path, Umarak came across dried-out, brittle husks of what seemed to be Energy Leech skin…

What followed was an epidemic as the remaining members of that lost brood began to feed without restraint, no longer hindered by Makuta. Their minds had gone virtually rabid from the mutations, causing them to lose their fear of their creator as they feasted on the wilds of the Region of Jungle, left unchecked and free to roam and devour. Even as Makuta intently watched, observed, and experimented on his own Energy Leeches, the escaped brood continued to feed.

And as they did… they began to mutate even further. The mutated Stage 2 Leeches that survived hunts from the Okotans and captured by the Brotherhood were able to devour enough to begin metamorphosis into a new, larger, third Stage- One that lacked flight but was far more proficient and ravenous than the previous stage nevertheless. And as each stage progressed, more energy was required to not only transform, but then to maintain these new, twisted bodies…

Afterwards came Stage 4, and at first Makuta assumed that was the end of the line, because surely his Energy Leeches couldn’t develop any further when he hadn’t even planned for it… But then before he knew it, at least three of the remaining Stage 4 Leeches devoured entire forests, and undergoing a painful, boiling-hot metamorphosis, grew into the dreaded, massive, Stage 5, a little bit larger than a real life T-Rex. And with this final mutation, the Stage 5 Leeches gained the ability to drain life energy on contact, no longer needing to pierce a victim’s form, and were thus able to simply stuff beings such as the indestructible Skull Puppets into their mouths and absorb their entire souls.

While everyone else was horrified, Makuta himself was undoubtedly ecstatic and celebrated. Obviously, this unexpected success was a testament to just how good of a genius he was- It seems that Makuta could surprise even himself with how amazing his results were, with his own best creations continuing to yield greater results he hadn’t even considered! And so while Makuta stroked his ego and celebrated this new bolstering to his forces, he in turn began selecting the most loyal, most ruthless Energy Leeches in his command, and began feeding them in hopes of evolving them into the next stages of their unstable life cycle.

Indeed, the Brotherhood of Makuta soon added several Energy Leeches of various Stages to their arsenal, although with each increase in a stage, there was less of that number of Leech, due to the high energy costs. Makuta had to be careful about how he managed his resources and fed his Energy Leeches, and which ones he fed as well, all while ensuring each one continued to be loyal to him by beating back that fear into a Leech with each successful mutation.

Obviously, the Okotans were less than thrilled, but still had to make do with the situation and adapt. Nevertheless, the Energy Leeches continued to be a scourge and bane upon the Okotans, even with the new Masks of Power and weapons provided to them by Ekimu. In his hunts for the Elemental Deities, Umarak even employed several of the larger-stage Energy Leeches, though used only Stage 1 Leeches when subduing Rahi, not wanting to kill them outright.

Even amongst the Brotherhood of Makuta, there was some contention about the further-stage Energy Leeches. The more they grew, the more unruly and difficult to control they became, and reports came in of developed Energy Leeches even attacking and draining allies in order to sate their unsatiable hunger. By the end of the day, however, Makuta saw the senseless destruction and waste he had wrought upon Okoto as worthwhile, at least in light of the ends he was attempting to accomplish; That is, taking his rightful place among the gods, of course.

The evolved stages of Energy Leech continued to serve as a powerful asset and force within the Brotherhood of Makuta, and amidst all of the chaos, a lone, masked-and-armored stranger appeared from nowhere to hunt down and kill as many of these evolved Energy Leeches as possible, taking DNA samples all the while. With the business of the war, nobody really noticed this individual until much later, and by then they had bigger concerns to worry about.

When Makuta took control of Umarak, he unleashed the latter’s Elemental Beasts upon Okoto to raze the land away into nothing. To assist the already-unstoppable Elemental Beasts, Brotherhood forces backed them up, in particular Energy Leeches of various evolved stages. Due to the wild, frenzied madness brought upon by the Elemental Beasts by Makuta, many allies were slain by the horde in their mindless destruction. Likewise, the ever-ravenous Energy Leeches sensed the power in the Elemental Beasts, and a few even attempted to feast on their allies; However, the Elemental Beasts proved to be too dangerous for even the Stage 5 Leeches.

Likewise, the Energy Leeches assisted in Makuta in his assault on the City of the Mask Makers in which he successfully damaged the Mask of Creation beyond repair. When the Toa and Ekimu ventured to stop Makuta from gathering his soul and reuniting it, Energy Leeches were among the forces that went to stop them, but they too failed.

Following Makuta’s demise, all Energy Leeches have conspicuously gone into hiding to the point of practically disappearing. A few stragglers have remained, however, and the general Okotan consensus is to wipe out these unnaturally-made, invasive bioweapons for good. However, a few feel an inevitable empathy for the species and have made efforts to preserve as many of them in stasis as possible, and discussions on possibly trying to rehabiliate and tame the Energy Leeches has ensued. Of course, even if one were to succeed in this, the issue of their extreme dietary requirements would still keep the Energy Leeches as a severe threat to Okoto’s welfare…

Energy Leeches, in general, prefer wet environments, and the ratio of water in their body is greater than that of Okotans, at least for Stage 1. Their ideal home is large bodies of water, although swampy marshes suffice as well.

Upon mutating into Stage 2, Energy Leeches grow a more defined, prominent rib-cage as their bones begin to harden. Their heads become sleeker and narrow alongside their eyes, even as their fangs become more developed and twisted. The fin on the end of their tails is more defined, and most shockingly of all, they begin to develop additional limbs. Stage 2 forms long, spindly-fingers and hands bigger than their bodies with webbing in-between, creating a hybrid of flippers and wings. These wings, when flapped quickly, can grant Stage 2 brief bursts of fast, sudden flight- Otherwise, their flight capabilities are poor and thankfully, cease entirely following additional mutations. Stage 2 also develops smaller nubs along the sides of its tail, a precursor to hind legs, and one of its three tentacle growths falls off as the other two begin to grow larger, longer, and more versatile. Their size is about that of a grown adult, with their wing-span a little past that of an Okotan adult’s arm-span.

Stage 3 is another matter entirely. They develop more teeth, as well as a proboscis-like limb within their mouths with a talon at the end, which can extend and pierce victims to grant greater range to their lunging bites. Stage 3 just as quickly after gaining its wings loses them, if only because the growth of its body unexpectedly outpaces that of their hands. Thus, while the hands do get bigger, the rest of Stage 3 increases in size too much for them to continue having minor flight of any kind.

Their rib-cages become more pronounced and their heads larger and sleeker, as usual. Their hands grow into out-right limbs with articulated elbows, which are long and stretch forward from their bodies and out in front of them, bending downwards the way a spider’s would. Stage 3 begins to form a solid, defined pelvis along the length of its tail, and its nubs develop into flippers. The fin on their tail further grows, and their remaining two tentacles increase in size and length massively, becoming long enough to wrap around prey, with sharp points at the end to pierce them and drain fluids (though not Life energy), weakening prey for the rest of the Leech’s body to latch onto.

Stage 3 has a hunched, curved-over posture like that of a mosquito, and they support their body on their two front limbs and their curved tail beneath them. Stage 3 is over the size of an adult, easily around that of a lion or bear. They gain the ability to not only absorb Life Energy, but even charge themselves with the stored energy they’ve absorbed and unleash it in bursts, waves, and beams to attack enemies from afar. Stage 3 can even charge its body with an aura of crackling energy, making themselves dangerous to touch.

Afterwards is Stage 4. The Energy Leech suddenly and without warning loses its tentacles, which drop off its back as its body mutates, becoming more lithe and muscular. Its hind-flippers develop into digitigrade hind legs, and talons begin to develop and emergy at the ends of their front hands. Their bodies become more angular as their skeletons define themselves and harden, and their front-limbs now curve inward the way a cougar’s would. Their necks are stronger and longer, and their circular mouths form begin to form into an upper and lower jaw with larger incisors and canines. Their proboscis fails to increase in size, retracting further back into its growing throat. Their webbing becomes less pronounced, and their tail, again, increases in length and develops. Stage 4 has a hunched back and despite its lanky build is still huge, about the size of a storage truck. Stage 4 becomes more animalistic, prowling and snarling like a conventional predator. It can also rear back on its hind legs, and is able to rapid-fire sudden bursts of energy bolts at prey to subdue them, and gains an incredible leaping ability.

Finally is the most dreaded stage of all- Stage 5. Stage 5 is easily a little over the size of a real life T-Rex, and its proportions change to be more like one (albeit with larger arms). Their bodies become far thicker and more muscular as their skin and flesh distorts into slightly-frilled edges along their limbs and folds. Stage 5’s pelvis becomes larger, taking up more of its mass as its hind legs inexplicably grow larger than the front limbs, developing thick talons and webbing between fingers and toes. Webbed spines emerge along a humped ridge in the lower-back, and their tail becomes thicker than most trees, incredibly powerful and able to deliver powerful blows, and along the tip is their transcluent, frilled fin at the end.

As the rear portion of Stage 5’s body becomes larger, this leads to the Energy Leech mostly squatting on its powerful rear legs which nevertheless can’t fully extend due to the constant weight and bulk of their frame. The rest of the body’s skeleton is no longer discernible beneath massive, rubbery folds of flesh and skin, and along the elbows are webbed spines. Its skin’s orange coloration becomes more solid, no longer translucent, and its bones thicken to incredible durability. Stage 5 additionally no longer moves on all four limbs, now walking on its back two, leaving its front limbs free to slash forward, lunge, and grab onto objects and food with opposable thumbs.

The head of Stage 5 becomes its largest and most defined with a flatter shape than the previous Stage 4, with slightly-frilled edges alongside the sides of its face. Its giant, bulbous eyes blaze red beneath a constantly-furrowed brow, burning with a seething, eternally-hungering gaze. Its mouth has unexpectedly reverted back to a more circular, leech-like shape (albeit more oval than circle), the inside of its throat lined with countless barbed teeth as the main front fangs increase in size. Emerging from the sides of its face, constantly wriggling, are small tentacles that are useless, possibly more for sensory than grabbing onto things.

[Basically it’s that giant orange Ancient Sea Behemoth that Kongu summons when fighting the Barraki, albeit smaller, yet nevertheless terrifyingly huge, and with a few other visual differences here and there.]

In return for increased mass, the Stage 5 loses its leaping abilities, but also gains huge power, strength, durability, and girth in the process. Its gains the ability to drain beings without even puncturing them with its fangs, so long as they’re in contact with its mouth, and it can bite into the ground and drain an entire section of the surrounding area and plants of its life-energy, rendering it into dust.

Worst of all, Stage 5 even possesses the ability to somewhat messily, chaotically mix the various forms of Life energy it’s absorbed in its stomach, and meld that energy into various other forms such as lightning blasts. Stage 5 can also blast beams of energy into the ground, super-heating it and spreading the surrounding area with blazing energy that branches throughout and cracks apart the area, making it lethal to stand there. The strength of its tail increases to the point where it can slam into the ground to cause powerful, short-ranged tremors to knock prey off their feet. As soon as it makes contact, Stage 5 can instantly drain even the largest, most resilient forms of life completely and instantly, reducing a massive tree into dessicated, splintered halves shattered by the force of the Energy Leech’s powerful bite. Stage 5 is the most ravenous and dangerous of all, requiring enormous energy costs, and has even been seen eating other allies, and even fellow Energy Leeches, to sustain its colossal dietary requirements. And to top it all off, they possess a powerful, terrifying roar that can bellow through the air and be heard from afar, and their thundering steps are impossible to not notice unless they deliberately choose to move stealthily.

Thankfully, Stage 5 seems to be the last part of the Energy Leech life cycle, at least for now… Nobody, not even Makuta, knows the full extent and capabilities of the Energy Leeches, which is why many are so insistent on completely destroying their species in case a hidden, undiscovered Stage 6 emerges.

As Energy Leeches develop into further stages, the ratio of life energy to physical body-matter increases, becoming more life force than flesh due to their mutations being fed and maintained entirely by the souls they’ve drained. With each Stage, an Energy Leech’s body temperature rises (necessitating frequent returns to the water, with all Stages retaining aquatic capabilities, with Stage 5 swimming like an otter). Their unstable forms become held at the seams on the molecular level mostly by the energy they constantly devour and drain, and upon being damaged and wounded enough, an Energy Leech’s unstable form will begin to break apart and collapse, parts of it dissipating as pure life force into the area while other parts of its body collapses as boiling flesh. The death of a Stage 5 has been observed to yield the least proportion of its body-matter despite its mass.

Energy Leeches are aggressive and animalistic (these qualities worsening with each developed stage), and lack sapience. As far as anyone can tell, they’d make terrible pets, but then again no one has actually tried, and not without reason. Despite this, they seem able to understand orders, and the more developed a stage becomes, the better it can understand tactics. Still, it’s best to be careful and not overestimate their intelligence in understanding you, while not underestimating their intelligence when trying to drain you. Despite Stage 5 having the best intelligence, it’s the hardest to control of them all and very carefully contained and supervised between battles.

[Yeah, I’ve based the Energy Leeches’ life cycle and stages almost entirely off of the Metroids from Metroid: Samus Returns. I think playing that game can give you a good idea of what the Energy Leeches and their growth and habits are like.]

[bohrapbois]

Full Marks

CHAPTER 6 Description - Ben just so happens to fall head over heels for a Mysterious Man who loves baseball and cracking terrible jokes. Mysterious Man also turns out to be the father of one of Ben’s students. Warnings - Full blown relationship Hardzello, with plenty of angst, fluff and future smut. Word Count - 1,712

The paramedics took another ten minutes to arrive, but Ben hadn’t moved much. Allen had helped him move to sit upright against the filing cabinet, and although he was breathing unaided, his chest was burning from a shortage of oxygen. Although he tired, he just couldn’t get enough air in.

He was lifted onto the ambulance trolley, kept in a sitting position but strapped down across his lower abdomen and legs to hold him upright. An oxygen mask was placed over his face, and Ben couldn’t get enough of the cold air coming in. His nose had clotted up and his mouth wiped to ensure he wasn’t breathing in any dry blood. They began to wheel him out of the class.

Headmaster May stood there waiting, tears in his eyes as he smiled softly at Ben. Someone in his family was hurt, and he couldn’t do anything to stop the pain. Annita stood at his side, holding her husbands arm in comfort. Ben raised a heavy arm to let him know he was alright. They continued down the hallway, and Ben heard a familiar voice call out his name.

Craning his neck, he saw Beth clinging to Joes neck, sniffling as she watched through tearful eyes as Ben wheeled past her. Ben felt his own eyes well up, and it wasn’t helped by the obvious tear tracks staining Joe’s cheeks.

As they went through the main door, Ben caught a glimpse of Rami rushing from the car park, probably coming to comfort his family, but what caused more surprise was Gwilym running from the same parked car.

“Ben!” The Welshman rushed to the trolley, grabbing one of the barriers as the paramedics continued to walk. Another set of eyes scanned his injuries, and Ben wasn’t surprised by the chocked gasp. Everyone had the same reaction. Allen couldn’t even stop from wincing at each wheeze.

Ben grabbed Gwil’s hand, still not willing to talk, and nodded slightly at the paramedics question if he was to travel with them. Gwil and a paramedic climbed into the back, the other paramedic moving to the front with the driver. They didn’t expect his condition to worsen suddenly, so there was no need to crowd the back.

Ben eyed the equipment shuffling to the side as much as the restraints would allow him. He wasn’t overly fond of needles or medicine, would much rather sleep off a headache or cold rather than take a pill. Ben’s heart rate increased as the male paramedic began rifling through one of the draws, not calming when Gwil held his shoulder. He sighed in relief once a heart rate armband was pulled out. The medic made swift work of getting his blood pressure, muttering to himself as he made notes when he tested Ben’s pupils.

It wasn’t long until they arrived at the hospital, and Ben was wheeled into the E.R. Gratefully, Gwilym was allowed with him as they wheeled him into a spare section, pulling the curtain around to offer privacy.

“When I got a phone call,” Gwil fell into the uncomfortable plastic chair next to his bed, “from school saying you got attacked, I was about ready to hijack a car”. Ben chuckled (which turned into a wince) at the mental image of Gwil breaking the law. “I started running there instead”. The house was close enough to Animal Ark that Gwil saw no need of an extra expense of a car to get to work, rather he just walked. “I just got to the end of the road when a car stopped next to me, and low-and-behold, Green Eyes from the other day was leaning out of his window and telling me to get in”.

Ben raised his eyebrows as he continued to stare at Gwilym. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“I don’t know how he knew where I wanted to go, but I didn’t even say anything as we sped towards the school,” Gwil fiddled with the sleeve of his jumper. The thread was beginning to become loose from his distracted habit, and the blue material took all the taller mans attention. Ben hummed next to him, eyes also focusing on the sleeve and the two sat there for a moment, comfortable with one another.

Gwil was used to Ben needed company, and understood that sometimes it worked better when they were both silent. Just having a familiar presence near him would sometimes be enough to calm the blonds nerves. Ben would take the weight of the world on his shoulders and would never burden anyone else with his own, pressing problems. If he was in a bad mood, it has been known for the blond to purposefully look for the worst to give himself a reasoning. It was bad during university, and he missed lectures and seminars due to it, and although it’s gotten better over the years, he still needs that calming mind in stressful or hurtful situations. So here they sat, two best friends on foreign ground, one in need of medical aid and the other there for support, doing what they do best: being there for one another.

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

A nurse had come around and done a brief medical overlook, followed by a doctor and another doctor. They all were shocked at the scales of the injuries but were relieved at the lack of deep damage. “You’ll be fine within three weeks-” doctor Two had said, “won’t be any long term side effects”.

Ben was discharged seven hours after first wheeling through the doors after some observations and blood tests. The oxygen levels in his blood weren’t cause for alarm and the medical staff were happy for him to leave with some prescribed medication and a check up appointment scheduled for the following week.

It was only when Ben and Gwil blinked into the dark outside that they realised that they had no way of getting back to theirs. “Shit,” Ben croaked out, having begun trusting his vocal chords and throat when they had been there for hour two, and could near enough speak normally if he ignored the shooting pain of bruised muscles. Nothing louder than a stage whisper at the moment but he’d get there.

“‘Shit’ indeed,” Gwil mumbled before pulling out his phone and looking up the local taxi service. Uber and Lyft weren’t in use around these small towns, but there were plenty of other taxi services around that would be willing to come pick them up at nearing three in the morning.

Gwil wandered off a few meters as he talked to the driver and gave the address, but Ben was just focusing on how cold it was. Wearing a dress shirt was a good idea for the disaster of a parents evening but not so much for standing outside an isolated hospital in the middle of fucking nowhere. If it wasn’t for Ben’s anxiety surrounding hospitals, he’d suggest that they go and sit in the waiting room, but most of the red plastic seats of the small room were occupied and Ben didn’t feel like sitting in a room with people in pain or on their deathbeds. So, shivering outside was the option.

His taller friend returned, and gave the estimated time of five minutes to him. They both knew that five minutes was being optimistic, and they were correct, because seventeen minutes later, a little silver Honda civic pulled up in front of them and they climbed in. The driver eyed the hand-print bruise on Ben’s neck but said nothing as he began driving back to their house.

It wasn’t long before they scraped together the right amount of change (and a little tip for the late night) and climbed out the car, shivering their way up the front porch and into the familiar presence of their home. Frankie went ballistic, sprinting from Ben’s room and colliding into her owner at full speed. Ben stumbled backwards as he rushed to grab his dog launching herself up his body, and he collided with Gwil, who also then stumbled back out the house. Now holding a wiggling dog in his arms (who was both whining at the absence of Ben and the smell of him whilst also wagging her tail so much that it was hurting Ben trying to hold her), Ben turned and apologised to Gwil, who just shrugged and made his way back inside and into the small kitchen. He placed the bag of medication on the counter top, far away back that Frankie wouldn’t be able to get to them, even if she climbed up again, before making the two of them drinks. Lemon and a generous amount of honey were loaded into Ben’s cracked Jurassic Park mug, and once the steaming water was added, the two shuffled the short distance to the sofa. Found in a charity shop, like most of the rest of the furniture, the old sofa had stains and dog fur embedded deep into its material. Frankie stayed close to Ben’s side, tucked between him and the arm rest and her watchful eyes viewed Ben’s hand movements every time he took a tentative sip.

They didn’t talk about much, Gwil mentioning how Lucy was trying to convince her boyfriend to adopt the three legged, half an ear kitten which had been brought in the week prior, but mainly they watched some of re-runs of a show that neither of them cared about. The only light other than the TV screen on was of the lamp in the corner of the room, placed carefully between the TV stand and bookcase. The warm light reminded Ben of how tired he was, and with heavy eyes, an hour after coming home, Ben uncrossed his legs, wished Gwil a goodnight, placed his mug on the counter and shut himself in his room, Frankie weaving between his legs the entire time.

The blond shrugged off his shirt and dropped his slacks, toeing off his shoes and socks before climbing into bed. He shifted around under the duvet, body aching from the events, but eventually he curled up in the corner in a nest of pillows and blankets and settled down for sleep. It was only then, when he was alone, that he let the tears flow.

I’m so sorry you’ll had to wait so long but thank you for sticking around! Although I am back, I’m afraid it won’t be scheduled posting as I’m unsure when I’ll be having the free time! BUT it would encourage me greatly if you were to leave encouraging messages/reblogs/tags to remind me to keep going

[baeddel]

hey i really like your posts, what r some books/writings that you consider to be not as well known but essential? (also sorry for the blank tumblr lol i just dont use tumblr much anymore that much

ahhh tysm!! ^^ and lmao dw about the blank tumblr, its perhaps the correct use of the website

I’m not sure I can give an answer thats too useful though… Leninists painstakingly prepare reading lists, ‘introductory reading lists’ for their constituents that begin with Lenin and work their way up to ‘the real deal’, Marx, and specific reading lists on every conceivbale subject, from history to epistemology to logic & mathematics, authored by their own intellectuals - most highly cherished of those, books published within the USSR itself - which they can refer curious party members to if they have ambitions outside of pamphleteering. The good leninist reads leninism, and so it is easy to supply them with materials. But what am I trying to produce in you when I attempt to condition your intellectual development?

Aleister Crowley said that, before he established the A.’.A.’., the secret initiatory college within or beyond the O.’.T.’.O.’., any number of individuas from any number of times, places and cultures had already attained its highest rank, the Ipsissimus. It wasn’t that one could only ‘get there’ by following their particular initiatory system, but that their system was one of many systems that produced the same enlightenment. In this way, I’d rather support your own independent development, sort of like a personal fitness trainer. What are your areas of interest? What keeps you up at night? What are you worried about? I could give specific recommendations that increase your interest, decrease your hours of sleep and worsen your concern.

(As if to purposefully foil me, of course, the A.’.A.’. has its own reading list - one which I trudged through a good measure of, once upon a time)

Anyway, this is all to cover for something more terminal: I don’t read! If I were to pile up every page I’ve read in my life it probably wouldn’t fill a book - after excluding all the pulp fantasy and smut, natch. I’m good at reading a few pages here, a few pages there, but never much further. And of what I have read, little appears at first glance to have much use to theory: 4th centry surgical manuals, early renaissance grimoires, historical wargames rulebooks, schizophrenic christian apologetics, etc. I have recently been watching, considering and discussing instructional videos for firefighters. Certainly few of these materials are well read, but which would I consider essential?

Most of my knowledge of actual theory is second-hand - I have some very wonderful friends who I have discussed ideas with over and over again for the better part of this decade, and those conversations are the primary source for my thought. Their reading is, itself, diverse: my friend Ignacia read a lot of second wave feminist stuff, especially Wittig, but even McKinnon, Dworkin, etc., even Solanas, as well as the Italian Feminists like Federici, Fortunati… My girlfriend, another huge influence on my thinking, reads mostly very empirical, considered anarchist theory: Endnotes, Chuang, Aufhenben, as well as Federici. Frére has read a great deal but discussed with me mostly Adorno, Debord and Baudrillard, as well as Machiavelli, as well as J.G. Ballard and Edgar Allen Poe. My friend Quinn, who had perhaps the greatest influence on my thought, has read close to no theory at all.

Because of these conversations, I’ve had a continual exposure to ideas which come from a body of thought that I could never read myself. And its the fact that we’ve all read different things that makes our friendship so intellectually productive! So, if I tell you to go read the things I’ve read myself, I would only decrease our relevance to each other. I should instead reverse the question: what have you read? What did you think about it?

Anyway, while I have you, I’ll try to demonstrate one thing about my reading, which is the main way I develop my thought. I read, a little while ago, Engel’s Principle’s of Communism - an unpublished draft for what would become the Communist Manifesto - as well as the finished thing, which is almost solely the work of Marx. By comparing the two, where the emphasis is placed, where they differ and where they converge, what one omits or the other stumbles over, one can learn a great deal. Doing this I can get ‘a lot from a little’ - I dont have to read a long book, but can make a short book do a lot of work, which helps immensely with my dyslexia. I can spend more time thinking and less time reading. Its this emphasis on the synthetic part of the reading that lets me get along with very scattered, peculiar materials, ‘with a little help from my friends’.

Anyway..! this was very very long and entirely about me, so thankyou for indulging me, sorry I was not helpful.

[artisticflutter]

Enemy is my Friend - Part One

Hey hey, looks like it’s time to post Secret Santa gifts... and hey there @red-rose-draws, I’m your Secret Santa via @mlsecretsanta. You wanted a very square Enemies!AU and I hope you enjoy~

Also if you have an AO3, I’d love to get that so I can post over there too.

Rating: G Genre: Fluff, Angst, Romance, AU, Friendship Pairing(s): Love Square Summary: According to Tikki, Chat Noir was supposed to be Ladybug’s partner, but it’s just Marinette’s luck when that turned out to be wrong, wasn’t it? Warning: Enemies!AU. Also, there’s a second part to be posted from another POV.

According to Tikki, Chat Noir was supposed to be Ladybug’s partner, but it’s just Marinette’s luck when that turned out to be wrong, wasn’t it?

Her first outing as a superheroine all those months ago definitely could’ve been better, but Chat Noir’s declaration of being her enemy was just the cherry on top. She asked Tikki over and over just how this could have happened, but the kwami couldn’t go into details. Rules and all, she had said, much like the rule that required Marinette keep her identity secret from her friends and loved ones. Any one of them could be Chat Noir, too.

It didn’t take long for the reality of this fact to change how she handled situations with extra caution.

Still, looking down at him now, him pinned to the ground, her hand twisting his right wrist to pull his ring off, she didn’t expect their confrontation to come to an end like this.

Akumatized victims by themselves were only nuisance, but add Chat Noir to the mix, and they became competition. While he never had any new powers in battle, he was the destruction to her creation - the counterforce meant to be equal in strength with small differences that covered her battle disadvantages. But although he matched her in nimbleness and just barely surpassed her in sturdiness, her cleverness won out in many of their encounters and she came out on top, leaving the feline villain to slip away to fight another day.

However, she didn’t only chalk it up to just her wit.

As determined as she was to stop Chat Noir and Hawkmoth, Chat Noir didn’t seem to take their battles seriously either. Dare she say he even seemed to be anticipating every bout? Maybe she was reading too much into it, but he did have the powers of destruction.

“Why doesn’t he just use Cataclysm on me?” she asked aloud one evening, her pencil tapping her lip. Her sketchbook sat open before her, the supervillain’s face almost drawn to completion.

Tikki halted her cookie consumption and raised her wide azure eyes, a smile playing on her face.

“I know it’s odd considering he’s your enemy, but he has a good heart. I can tell – and I know he wouldn’t have received the Cat Miraculous if he might use it for the wrong purpose.”

“I would say fighting against us is the wrong purpose…” Marinette sighed, leaning backwards in her chair. “Maybe he thinks he’s fighting for something righteous. Do you think if I asked him, he'd tell me?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try.”

Tikki resumed devouring her cookie and Marinette continued etching mindlessly along the marks she made already: wild hair that gave him an untamed appearance, bright eyes with oval pupils (part of his transformation she assumed), and round cheeks rarely ever down because he always seemed to be grinning or smirking. His features were still sharpening, though, so he had to be around her age.

The more she drew, the more she considered.

Aside from people being affected by the akumatized victim’s power, Chat Noir didn’t seem to like civilians getting hurt. When Stormy Weather appeared, he had had an argument with Aurore because she’d shot lightning directly at park patrons. He also hadn’t approved of her sweeping people away with gusts of wind outside of the TVi studio tower.

And when she had gone on that ‘date’ with Nathaniel while he was Evillustrator, he seemed to have been watching more intently than needed. Yeah, he’d been on the lookout for Ladybug, but when she – just as Marinette – tried to get Nathaniel’s akumatized pen, he’d jumped in before she could get hurt. He even bothered coming to find her a few evenings later to sincerely apologize. And he’d meant it.

“… Weird cat,” she mumbled, staring back at the beaming image of Chat Noir.

Who was the boy beneath that mask?

She found herself coming back to that question with each subsequent encounter.

Though she should be asking him why they were fighting, it just slipped her mind again and again because there were always new questions. Who was this boy fine with people being akumatized, but not letting civilians be hurt during the rampage? Controlled was fine, but injuries were off the table. Rather contradictory; and then, why keep this chase going? She knew he had better combat skills to bring, but he seemed lax using them. Was he going easy on her? Did he find it fun? What was with all the puns and jokes and – dare she say – flirting on his part? Why did she find herself playing into it too? Was that an effect of the Miraculous?

What did Chat Noir want?

When she finally did recall, Simon Says didn’t give her the time to ask. After Tikki had her break into Gabriel Agreste’s safe (why was there a safe behind that painting?) to take some book and a peacock pin, she had formed a temporary alliance with Chat Noir to save Mr. Agreste’s life.

In that instance, things felt right – as if she’d never fought the black cat and it was scary how well they worked. It had been a whirlwind of events ending off with her meeting Master Fu,so she missed the opportunity to ask Chat Noir yet again. Sure, she did ask Master Fu, but his answer was she was better off asking Chat Noir himself.

Maybe she needed to ask herself why she even cared. He was the enemy and she needed to get the Butterfly and Cat Miraculous.

But why did it feel like taking the ring would make her the bad guy?

The holidays came and went, but something was wrong with Chat Noir.

Ever the perpetual smiler in their encounters, his expressions started becoming strained and there was a new, more aggressive approach in his fighting style. If a battle dragged on long enough, his movements would grow sluggish and predictable. That wasn’t all; paling skin, dimming eyes, and he became thinner and thinner. Despite his worsening condition, he was still the most civil villain. Heck, he got her a birthday present after finding out it was her birthday while her Nonna was akumatized.

Was he sick? Would Hawkmoth push him to keep fighting in that condition?

She didn’t want to think about it, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it when he bowed out of a fight or didn’t participate at all, watching with a hand pressed against his stomach from a distance. It was such a distraction that she wasn’t even paying attention to Luka while André served her ice cream. She was so startled she accidentally swatted it, sending the peach and mint green scoops flying. Marinette apologized profusely, but André didn’t seem too perturbed.

“There is conflict in your heart right now.”

“Huh?”

This time, she paid attention as he made the cone.

“Peach pink like his lips and mint green like his eyes! Eat this, my dear, and your love will materialize!”

“My love…”

Accepting the cone, Marinette stared at it unblinking for a few seconds, focused on mint melting onto the peach. Even as the dregs began to run over her fingers, she stood there, feeling her face flare up.

“Is that it? But I shouldn’t…”

“Uh, Marinette?” Luka’s voice cut through her thoughts and she turned her head. Not only was he staring at her, but so were Alya, Nino, Ivan, and Mylène. Normally, that would embarrass her, but she calmly took a few Euros from her pocket to pay André.

“Thank you for the ice cream. Sorry guys, I have to do something.”

She didn’t wait for her change before sprinting off, scarfing down her ice cream and powering through the brain freeze to make it home.

It just had to be a coincidence - she was thinking too much about that stupid cat, the ice cream meant nothing. Her Miraculous wasn’t helping either. Yeah, she was sure. That dumb boy becoming thin as a rail was not her concern – she didn’t have to do anything about it!

It was just the right chance to take his Miraculous and then go after Hawkmoth!

The akuma had been paltry this evening, but it had assisted her immensely by dealing with Chat Noir on their own, though it didn’t have to throw him away like he was rubbish. He was just tired – yeah, that had to be it; that had to be why he hadn’t bothered trying to get up during the fight.

… Had his arm always been this thin?

He struggled beneath her knee – oh god, she could feel his ribs shifting beneath her leg. Before people arrived, she just needed to take his ring – grab it and be done with one nuisance. Pinching his ring and pulling slowly, her leering eyes darted to his sunken face, taking in wide, pleading eyes watering slightly in the corner, the faux ears on his even messier hair folded flat. No longer was he trying to push her off, but he was trembling, gradually appearing much like a kicked cat he embodied. Teeth gritted, his jaws shifted as though to open, but he refused – why did he refuse to speak?

If this was victory, it felt terrible.

He wasn’t anywhere near his peak physical form; and with him, this wasn’t how she wanted to win.

Beneath her leg, she both felt and heard his stomach rumble loudly.

“… You stupid cat.” He wasn’t eating? Was that really the problem? “You owe me one, got it? And don’t you dare try to take my earrings right now.”

“… W-What?”

Once boisterous voice was soft and very shockingly subdued, and picking him up suddenly had him yelping, but she didn’t comment. Yo-yo out, she allowed it to fly, catching a nearby roof and sending them both soaring across Paris.

Was she really doing this? Was she really going out of her way to help her enemy? Well, she supposed she still felt some responsibility because they were supposed to be partners, but watch her luck – she was going to regret this.

Gosh she’d really like him to say something right now. Maybe she wouldn’t be thinking too hard on it, but he hadn’t said a word.

Landing firmly on the patisserie’s rooftop, she placed him in her lawn chair – alright, she might’ve dropped him in a bit more harshly than she meant - hands going to her hips as he gazed upon her in confusion.

“Listen here, Chat Noir. I know you helped the girl who lives here before and she’s pretty grateful. So stay here and maybe – just maybe – I can convince her to give you something to eat. If I’m going to claim your Miraculous, it’s going to be in a fair fight, understand?”

“What? You don’t need to--”

“You say that, but your stomach says otherwise.”

She noticed him flinch when she cut him off, but didn’t have time to ask what that was about. “Bug out, Kitty.”

She didn’t hear him scrambling to follow her as she leapt down and entered the building. Inside the bakery’s kitchen, she transformed back to Marinette, scowling because again, what was she doing? How ever troubled she was, Tikki was glowing.

“I’m proud of what you’re doing, Marinette.”

“Really? I think I might’ve done something wrong,” the girl replied with a groan. “I mean, I brought him back here to feed him. I’m sure if our positions were different…”

“He would likely do the same,” Tikki interrupted, hovering before Marinette’s face. “Even if he’s working with Hawkmoth, you know Chat Noir isn’t underhanded like him.  Maybe he lets the akuma do what they must to get your attention, but he never directly harms civilians.”

That could be debatable, but Tikki was right. It wasn’t like Chat Noir was the one akumatizing people or giving them targets. Nor did he ever purposely make anyone fall under the abilities of some past akuma – and when they did fight, he didn’t try involving anyone to make her give up her Miraculous; Hawkmoth did. In fact, with him being on the side lines for many of their recent skirmishes, he seemed to observe with a mild grimace.

“… Maybe I could get him to open up about why he’s doing this,” she started softly. “Maybe, but if he finds out who I am, I don’t want him to feel like I deceived him.”

“When the time comes, you’ll do the right thing. I’m sure!” Tikki bumped against her cheek and Marinette giggled. In the back of her mind, she could only hope no reveal occurred anytime soon. It was time to get to the bottom of who Chat Noir was really.

“So, what shall we feed a hungry cat?”

[dramaqueeenamby]

Rain On Me (7)

Warnings: Really dark. Mentions of Domestic Violence. Sexual Violence. Extreme Angst. All of it. Not for the faint of heart. Emotionally heavy.

Do not read this until/unless you’ve read the previous parts.

You should listen to THIS while reading the chapter

Words: 5250

MASTERLIST

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Rain On Me (7)

T’Challa fell asleep.

The rise and fall of his strong chest, smooth, chocolate, taut skin that served as her sanctuary for the past few days resting peacefully next to her. His heartbeat strong, his snores soft, his thoughts aloud. She could see it. The story that was yet to be told, words he dared not to say, the troubled he spared her from by carrying them all on his own. They were all apparent in one thing: his sleeping.

In all the years that she’d known him, Y/N had never had T’Challa to literally fall asleep on her. Never. He’d once told her that one of the benefits of the heart-shaped herb was that it provided him with increased stamina which transcended into a need for less sleep. It was one of the reasons he made such a good lover.

The man could stay up for days.

Yet, there he was, right beside her, sedated into a deep slumber.

It brought tears to her eyes.

The man was exhausted.

And it was all because of her.

He’d been working nonstop, in between handling his duties to his throne, trying his damn hardest to be with and please her 24/7. A problem was most definitely amid the young couple anytime she walked into their chambers after spending lunch with her little sister and dear friend to find her husband fast asleep on their bed at 3:00 in the afternoon. Coddling her with attention was proving to be detrimental for his well being. It was taking a toll on the king.

No, you’re taking a toll on him.

She inhaled sharply and sunk down into the bed, crawling down to the edge of the bed to pull the blankets up and over the both of them. She dropped the soft material at his waist to move the folders that were sitting on his chest to the nightstand on her side of the bed and looked before making herself comfortable in the familiarity of her comfort zone.

Her cheek pressed against his heart, her arm wrapped around his solid core. She lifted her leg and placed it over his, melting her their bodies into one as though the physical connectivity would make up for the emotional separateness she felt piercing their relationship.

“I’m sorry.” She tried to not act surprised as his hushed voice filled her ears. Of course, she woke him up. The slightest of sounds could stir the man from even the deepest of slumber.

“You need your rest, T’Challa.” She whispered, further burying herself in her favorite safety outlet, the scent of his cologne a pleasant invasion into her senses.

“And what of you?” He countered as his hand lightly dropped to the small of her back, her body tensing but not from his touch—the memories. The previous night had been one of the worst so far, T’Challa having to wake his wife from her sleep as she screamed and physically swung at him while still under the pretenses that he was Erik forcing himself on her. It took twenty minutes for him to pacify her nerves and to get her back to ‘sleep.’ “Your….nights...they are not improving.”

And they won’t because your damage is irreversible.

“And perhaps they never shall.”

His eyes darted down to look at her before returning to the ceiling. “Do not speak of such things.”

“Why?” She murmured against his skin, her eyes brimming with the tears of frustration of stagnant progress and increasing feelings of burdens. “We both see that nothing is improving for the better.”

It won’t. It can’t. You’re damaged beyond repair.

“Y/N-”

“Maybe we have been fooling ourselves.” T’Challa scrunched the sheets beneath his hands to keep himself from forcing both of them upward and grabbing her shoulders to force the source of her words from the depths of her soul. “Pretending as though we could ever return to our former lives.”

“Ilanga Yam.”

“I am not your sun, T’Challa.” She announced, sending a sharp pain in his chest that was unlike any pain that he’d ever experienced. “The sun is bright. She is light. Within me, there is no light. Not anymore.”

“Stop it.” He spoke in a forceful voice but shaky voice as she clenched her eyes shut to avoid his piercing, judgmental, and lingering gaze. “I will hear no more of this.”

Don’t listen to him. He’s just trying to make you feel better. He knows it’s true.

“You know that it’s the truth.”

He’s probably already started looking into other options. I bet he probably knows.

“Know what?” She found herself quietly questioning the voice, T’Challa looking down and immediately realizing what was going on, recognizing that his suspicions were right. His wife wasn’t forthcoming when she told him that the negative orator inside her head was still very much present.

Your lost womanhood.

Y/N gasped with an audible sharpness as she retracted herself from his body and crawled to the edge of the bed.

T’Challa immediately sat up and eyed her for any signs of any apparent physical danger. “What is it? What is wrong, Ilanga Yam?”

“Stop calling me that!” She snapped, hugging her legs as the tears leaked down her smooth brown skin. “I-I-I don’t deserve it.” You don’t deserve any of this. “I don’t deserve any of this.” That is why you don’t have her now. “It is why Bast has not allowed Jamyah to be returned to us.” Tell him the rest...tell him! “It is why she has closed off my womb.”

T’Challa’s face softened as he watched his wife sob into her legs. “W-w-w-what?”

“The d-d-doctor’s-” She hiccuped, lifting her head to look up at him through her hazy vision. “They said that h-h-e did too much….the trauma-”

He dropped his head to the side and clenched his jaw. “Stop-”

She took the back of her hand and wiped her face. “I have too much s-s-s-c-a-ar t-t-tissue-”

“I do not want to hear this.” He fisted his hand as he stared at the mattress, his own eyes starting to water at the impending daunting news he already knew was about to leave her mouth. “I-... I can not.”

“You have to.” She wept, shaking her head. “I cannot give you anymore child-”

“I said that is enough!” T’Challa snapped, standing up off the bed, his temper and emotions getting the best of him. Unfortunately, it proved disastrous. He watched as his wife, his completely fractured Ilanga Yam, jumped back on the bed until she hit the footboard where she pushed far too much over the edge and tipped back onto the floor.

He immediately went to go tend to her only to stop dead in his tracks at the sound of two words:

“I’m sorry!” She cried out in terror, covering her face in the motion of an X, but unlike the symbol of their people. No, this was like a woman in pure terror of what would follow. “I’m sorry! Please don’t.” She begged, pulling her legs up to form a sort of fetal position on the floor. “Please.”

“Y/N…” He couldn’t move, could barely speak, frozen in that same spot. Touching her and feeling her tense was one thing. This was entirely different. She was truly under the belief that he was prepared to strike her. His wife found the strength to look up at him, realizing that she had a moment to break away as she quickly crawled back to the nearest corner and cocooned herself into it.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She continued to repeat the words, a litany, a prayer on her tongue. A prayer that not even T’Challa knew would get answered. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

••••••••

T’Challa sat in his office, alone, objects were thrown about, paperwork needing his signature scrambled all around. He was a shell, an empty vessel, his heart all but broken into two.

He knew that there would be a period of difficulties following such a traumatic ordeal, but he truly was starting to feel as though there was no hope.

He could handle almost anything thrown his way, but this was….this was suffocating. He groped for a way to handle this information. He loved his wife. Bast, he worshipped her existence but watching her slowly fell apart was killing him. It hurt more than learning what Killmonger had done to her.

And now this. He didn’t want to care that she supposedly couldn’t have children. He really didn’t, but he did. Bast, he did.

They’d talked about having children. Jamyah was just the first of at least three of four to come. At least, she was supposed to be. That was no longer the case. The plan was now changed, plans altered, lives shaken. She could no longer produce future heirs and their first still somewhere out there.

T’Challa was upset, his soul weary, his chest tightening as he carried the troubles of his marriage, his kingdom, and what felt like the world. He was trying to be a good king and a perfect husband, but it was all too much. Y/N was correct. She wasn’t improving. If anything, her condition was worsening.

“Even if I could,” she cried into his chest after he was able to reassure her that he was not going to harm her, that he would never lay a hand on her. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve to bring another child into this world. Not after how I failed Jamyah.”

It destroyed him to know that she thought so little of herself, that she truly believed her sudden infertility was somehow a punishment for a situation she had absolutely no control over. T’Challa was absolutely dumbfounded, perplexed as to how he was to handle this. At that moment, he felt just as lost as her.

The king grabbed a vase and pitched it against the wall.

“My son,” he looked up to see that his mother was standing by the door.  Her hands were behind her back, her eyes surveying the room that was in disarray before they landed on her firstborn as he stood and walked over to the other side, placing his hands on the wall, his back toward her.

“What is it, mother?” He wasn’t even surprised at the fact that he hadn’t heard her enter. He wasn’t himself. Not even a little bit.

“I just came from seeing Y/N.”

His shoulders tensed. “Not right now, mother.”

“You two cannot keep doing this.”

“Pushing each other away.” She softened her voice as she looked at her oldest child. “You’re only going to end up losing one another.”

T’Challa turned around and regarded his mother with credulity. “Pushing her away?” Ramonda stood tall even at her son’s sharp tone. “I am doing everything that I possibly fucking can to make her happy, and it’s not working mama.”

“T’Challa-”

“She tried to kill herself!” His voice boomed, reaching every corner of the room, his body jumping at the vibration of the intensity. “My own wife is so…..miserable…...that she’d rather be dead than be with me.” T’Challa shut his eyes and turned away before gesturing between the two of them. “What am I supposed to make of that, mama? Hmm?”

“You and I both know that her attempt had nothing to do with you, T’Challa,” Ramonda affirmed as she marched up to him and placed her hands on his face.

“She wants to be with me all the time, yes?” He cast his eyes to the downward, his breath shaky, as his mouth trembled with his next question. “Then why would she try to leave me, mama?”

“Oh, my beautiful baby boy.” Ramonda comforted as she pulled his head down to her shoulder, the king quietly weeping in his mother’s arms. “This hurt you feel, the pain she always feels, none of this can start to dissipate until you, the both of you start to forgive.” A beat. “And I am not referring to him.” When Queen Mother felt T’Challa try to pull away from him, she decided to continue as this was the first time she’d had a chance to talk to her eldest about everything.

“Y/N is clinging onto the belief that she has to return to the woman she was before all this happened but the tragedy is that that may never happen, and it is slowly killing her because she thinks herself a disappointment to you.” T’Challa stiffened in her arms. “And you, my son, you who have always carried the burdens of the world, you who try to be her night and day, need to let her know that whoever she is now and whatever she has to offer, you love and accept.”

T’Challa slowly lifted his tearstained face and gazed at his mother who grasped at his cheeks. “And you have to forgive and stop blaming yourself for what has happened to her before she picks up on it and that sentiment is reciprocated.”

••••••••

Nakia was leaving the palace when she received a frantic call from the princess of Wakanda demanding her to come to the teenager’s lab. It was an out of the norm request, but she obeyed as she knew that Shuri would never make such a bold ‘request’ if not for good reason..

“I have been wracking my brain trying to think of where somebody like that would send Jamyah, going through his items to see if he left any clues, talking around with palace guards and Doras to see if he ever mentioned anything about foreign nations.” As soon as the princess of the River Tribe walked in, Shuri started to converse about her own incognito mission to help locate her missing niece.

“With a demon like that, it is so difficult to pinpoint exactly where his head was.” She shook her head as she followed the girl around.

Shuri suddenly stopped and turned around. “Not necessarily.” Nakia frowned. “He killed the person sent to drop of Jamyah, yes, and destroyed the flyer, again, yes, but who helped design the tech to fly that ship?”

“You, but even you can not revive the ashes of its destruction, princess,” Nakia said softly.

“The Americans still follow this old scientific theory,” Shuri brushed off the War Dog’s statement. “Matter can not be created or destroyed. Silly, I know, just as my not thinking of this sooner.”

Again, Nakia furrowed her brows as she followed the scientist over to another portion of her lab.

“Our flyers are practically vibranium infused from the first screw to the windows. It is almost impossible to completely destroy them. The ‘destruction’ was assimilated, strategic, a process, and anything with a process has steps. Technologically speaking, if done backward, steps can be reversed even if just to retrieve a certain portion of information.”

Nakia felt herself growing excited as she started to recognize what the scientist was implying. “Are you saying that you can rebuild the ship?”

“No.” Nakia’s heart dropped. “I am saying that I already did.”

She naturally grabbed Shuri’s shoulders, her eyes watering. “So have the coordinates?”

“I sent them over to Teela and brother’s friend before you arrived,” Shuri confirmed with tears in her eyes as Nakia gasped and covered her mouth. “We’re finally going to get her back, Nakia.”

••••••••

When T’Challa came to his wife and asked her to come with him somewhere, she was hesitant. It was the first time she’d left the palace since Killmonger’s defeat. For some reason, she equated leaving the palace to an increased chance of the previous events transpiring all over again.

It took a lot of coaxing on his end to get her to agree, but he was eventually able to break her on the caveat that they would be returned within the hour.

The ride took place in an uncomfortable silence as she sat on the opposite side of the jet, the king practically feeling her tortured conflict as to whether she wanted to go by him or remain where she sat. He wanted nothing more than to close off that physical distance between them but recognized that the emotion separateness had to be addressed before anything.

As soon as they arrived, it was not missed on him how she waited for him to stand and head down the steps before she quickly scrambled up as to not get him out of her eyesight. He felt her closely behind them as the hatch opened and they were exposed to the blinding heat of the Alkama Fields.

Y/N gasped quietly as the two stepped down, him holding out his forearm so that she could have something to hold onto as she traded vibranium steps for pure greenery. “What….”

T’Challa reached for her hand. Y/N looked down at it, slowly accepting the kind gesture as he led them into the middle of the field, the queen holding up her dress with her other hand. He walked ahead of her, his posture strong, his shoulders broad as she gazed around the fields that held so many memories for them, so many good memories. Why was he about to ruin this for them?

“Why have you taken me here?” She questioned quietly.

He waited a few seconds before he responded. “This place…..do you remember when I first took you here?”

She darted her eyes around, “Of course.” Her head dropped against her chest as she released her grip on her gown and let it graze the ground. “I...I remember the journey here too.”

“Which one?” He pressed softly before a small smile showed up on his face. “The one where you showed up for an arduous hike in a gown-”

“I forgot about that.” She cut him off with a small laugh, sniffling as she wiped at her eyes. “I really did that, eh?”

“You did.” He confirmed, echoing her laugh, trying to ignore his excitement at the sight of her smile. They were such a rarity these days. “But I still thought you were the most exquisite thing I’d ever laid eyes on.”

“I still wore my veil at that time, T’Challa.”

“I know.”

She gradually dragged her eyes up to meet him, the sincerity of his words stirring something within her. “T’Challa…”

Stupid girl! Can you not see what he is doing? Trying to ease the blow?

“You still have not answered my question as to what we are doing here.” She jerked her hand from his and hugged herself. This is where he asked you to marry him. Seems only fitting that it’s the place where he asks for a separation. “If it for what I think it is, I would rather you just get it over with.”

He frowned. “What are you-”

“I understand it too.” She rapidly shook her head, lifting one shoulder and closing her eyes. “You didn’t….you didn’t sign up for this, and I can’t-”

“Y/N, whatever you are thinking, I can assure you, that is not what is happening.”

Why are you still listening to him? This is all his fault anyway.

“What?” She gasped, looking off into the horizon, stepping back when T’Challa tried to move closer to her.

If he had just killed Killmonger when he had the chance-

“No.” Y/N shook her head and grabbed her hears. “Stop.”

“Y/N,” T’Challa watched and hid his trepidation at the sight before him. “What is going on?”

None of this would have happened. That bastard never would have raped you, beat you, got rid of your daughter.

“Shut up!” She yelled, squinting her eyes.

“Sithandwa sam,” T’Challa called out, bypassing his gut and going over to her, hands holding onto her back as he tried to get her to focus on him. “Talk to me. Please. Focus on me.”

Ask him why he didn’t kill him.

“No.” She cried, refusing to give into the voice that been haunting her for the past week, finally taking a stand.

ASK HIM!

“Why didn’t you do it!” She snapped, pushing her husband away as she beat on his chest. “Why didn’t you kill him? You had the opportunity! I saw it!” She hit on him, the king allowing her to continue her assault without protest as her words hit him deeper than her fists ever could. “You let him win!” Her voice broke as her punches let up, noticeable gaps between each blow as she started to double over. “You let him kill me. Why did you let him kill me?” As she fell into his chest and started to weep, the king wrapped her in his arms and comforted her, kissing the top of her head, his own eyes wet with unshed tears of shame and doubt.

“I am sorry,” he rasped, clinging onto her trembling frame. “In my attempts to save him, I damned you to this suffering.”

Bullshit. He is such a liar. He doesn’t care. He is just feeding you mo-

“Why are we here?” She asked again, for the first time, silencing the voice that she finally realized to be her own. If the voice was her then she had authority to control it, not the other way around. The queen managed to calm herself down enough to look up at her husband. “Please, tell me.”

“When we first came here, you thought yourself lost, your path uncertain.” He started off, carefully resting his forehead against hers. “You...you asked me to help you, and I agreed because it was at that moment I realized not only was I in love with you, but that I wanted to marry you, and that I was going to make you my queen.”

Her brows furrowed as she thought back to that eventful day all those years ago.

“But perhaps not the position that you think, Ilanga Yam.” She repeated his words back to him as her brows furrowed, her eyes blank as she took in everything that he was saying. “That...that was the first time that you called me that.”

“And you have been my light ever since then.” He breathed as she dropped her head and sniffled. “You still are.”

“I….I am not the same person, T’Challa.” She cried, shaking her head in his firm but loving grasp. “You….deserve better.”

“I deserve the sun, the moon, the stars, and I am looking at all of that and more.” He vowed as a tear spilled from his light brown eyes. “I love you now just as much as I loved you then. Whatever you have, whatever you are, whatever you bring to me, I want it all. I want you. I always have, and I always will because as much as you cling to me, that is how much I desire you. You are my light, and I cannot imagine navigating through this cold world without you.”

She inhaled sharply and laid her head on his chest, a sign that she was receptive to his words, willing to listen but not without one last daunting and tearful statement .“You’ve returned from the ancestral plane and for that, I cannot accurately express my gratitude, but there my soul still remains and for when and if it will return, I know not.”

He caressed her back and kissed the top of her head. “Then go there and retrieve it myself, I shall.”

••••••••

When husband and wife returned to the palace, they immediately detected that something was wrong.

“Someone is here,” T’Challa announced as he spotted the unfamiliar flyer in the hangar bay. Y/N stood at his side, her arm linked onto his as she looked up at him with apprehension. Naturally, the Black Panthers defensive side kicked in as he activated his suit, his wife tightening her grip on him.

“Stay close.” It was a waste of breath on his part. She wasn’t separating from him even if her life depended on it.

It was both of them or nothing.

Nevertheless, she nodded as the two walked into the palace, both of them noticing the absence of royal guards and Dora’s greeting them as they returned from the fields.

They were going through the corridors when they were met with a teary-eyed Okoye.

The couple froze in their spot.

They’d never seen the woman cry. Not even on her wedding day had she shed tears.

“General,” T’Challa spoke first. “What is-“

“Follow me.” She directed, turning on her heel. Y/N looked over at her husband who motioned for her to trust his instinct which was to obey Okoye’s request even though both were unsure where the path would lead them. As the three walked, the couple realized that their trek was in the direction of the throne room, T’Challa suddenly growing agitated as he wondered if his close advisor was leading them to some emergency meeting with the council.

He was in no mood for their bullshit, especially after such a day.

“Okoye,” T’Challa started, lowering the part of his suit that covered his face. “What is the meaning of this? If it is the council-” The mentioning of the group of elders caused Y/N to stop walking which forcing him to look down at her.

“I do not wish to see them.” She informed, swallowing deeply as the king lightly caressed the back of her head. “I-I can’t.”

“You won’t,” he affirmed and kissed the top of her head. He then turned back toward Okoye as they reached the doors of the throne room. “General-”

“Just,” she stammered and then shut her eyes. “Someone has been waiting to see you two.”

Husband and wife frowned, Y/N being the first to speak up. “What are you talking about?”

She immediately inched closer to T’Challa as Okoye pushed the double doors open, revealing the faint-inducing scene to the couple. The king’s eyes immediately fell on the sight in the middle of the large room. There, in his chair, sat his mother, but it wasn’t she who caught his attention. No, it was the giggling child who happily stared up at the crying woman while playing with her hair and babbled nonsensical words that almost brought the man to his knees.

Loud and heavy gasps left the queen’s mouth as she broke away from her partner, one hand still on his chest as she stared at the scene with bewilderment, not quite believing what she was seeing. However, as soon as the nine-month-old realized that there were more guests in the room, she diverted her attention from Queen Mother and settled on the newest additions.

“Jamyah?” It came out as a whisper, shaky, reluctant, and as though voicing it would make her disappear. Y/N was unsure the child even heard it, but as soon as she saw the little girl start to wiggle and heard her whine as she struggled to get down, she knew that her voice was heard.

“Mama.” Jamyah started to cry as she crawled over to her mother.

“Oh my Bast,” Y/N covered her mouth, dropping to her knees and opening her arms and pulling her into her chest. “My baby, my baby, my baby.” She sobbed, smothering her face in Jamyah’s head.

Behind her, T’Challa fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around his wife, his chest heaving as he looked down with quivering lips and misty eyes.

When Jamyah gazed up and saw her father, her eyes lit up, she started crying harder and reaching for him. “Baba.”

Y/N panted through her tears as she allowed her little girl to crawl up her chest and into T’Challa’s warm embrace.

“My little girl,” he shut his eyes and cradled her face into his neck as tears slipped from his eyes. “My entle little girl.”

Y/N covered her mouth and shook her head as she turned around to take in the sight around her of Nakia, Ayo, Shuri, Ramonda, Okoye, and Teela.

“How?” She croaked out, holding onto her stomach.

Shuri stepped forward as Jamyah ambled onto the floor and pulled on the back of her mother’s dress, grabbing her attention, forcing Y/N to turn around and hold her on her back, rocking her slightly as Y/N grabbed at her chest.

“I was able to reassemble the ship and locate the GPS coordinates and sent them over to Teela as soon as I had them,” she explained, watching with a plethora of emotions as her niece babbled at her mother. “I have been working on it for a while, and I apologize for taking so long to figure it out.”

“You found her?” Y/N breathed.

“We had a little help,” Teela spoke up as T’Challa reached for his princess, the little girl eager to be in her father’s safe arms. “A lot of help, actually.”

Everyone looked up as a figure emerged from the shadows.

“Captain,” T’Challa spoke as he stood up, kissing his daughter before carefully reaching her back over to his wife. He attempted to pacify his emotions as he walked up to the man. “Thank you.” He placed his hand on the man’s shoulder and squeezed softly. “You did not hesitate to come out when I asked for your assistance in helping me to locate my daughter, and now you have brought her home to me.” A beat. “There are no words to describe the extent of my gratitude.”

“You are a good man, T’Challa, and after everything that you have done, after everything you all have been through.” He pulled his lips together, eyes gazing around the room as he solemnly shook his head. “It was my honor.”

“Thank you,” Y/N cried, Jamyah moving down from her mother to scrabble over to her dad who kneeled down to play with her, his smile inescapable at the return of his child. “Thank you so much.” She rose and walked over to Teela and Shuri who were standing near each other, pulling them into a hug as the three embraced.

“He might have fractured us,” Shuri spoke as the three pulled apart, giving her own teary smile. “But he damn sure didn’t break us.”

Y/N sniffled and wiped at her eyes, shaking her head in agreement as she turned her gaze over to her husband to see him holding Jamyah, his eyes closed as he pressed his lips into her hair.

She smiled softly at the sight when she turned to see Ramonda standing to her side with a comforting smile. “You will get through this, my daughter.” She grabbed the younger woman’s hand as tears leaked down her face, her grin strained as the muscles in her face struggled to remain firm. “You are a warrior with a family to guide and see you through. I will see you through this.”

Y/N dropped her head and pulled her lips back as she mulled over Ramonda’s words when the older woman took her index finger to lift up her daughter-in-law’s cheek. “After all, take it from one survivor to another.” Y/N gasped as Ramonda reached over and wiped away her tears. “They took our bodies, but we must never let them take our hope.”

A/N: If you’ve read or are familiar with the comics, then you know that Ramonda was actually kidnapped and thought to be dead for a number of years. During which time she was sexually and physically abused. :( Her story will be shared in the next chapter.

Note how Ramonda immediately went to comfort Reader when she first saw her again at Jabari Land. She saw herself all over again. 

Oh, I lied. I’m pretty sure this will end up being nine chapters. Le sigh. 

As always, my inbox is always open and available for any backstory questions related to this story. To find out the motivating reason for Killmonger’s vile ways toward Y/N that no one (I think) picked up on that I hinted at with his comment right before his fight with T’Challa, click HERE