#not like he could go on wearing his cloak since that would *really* impede his movement

[des8pudels8kern]

aramis in his musketeer uniform

[11/?]

[7-wonders]

As Above, So Below Ch. 14

Summary: Your average, mundane life as a college student is flipped upside down when the man you thought you knew as your next-door neighbor turns out to be the God of the dead. When Michael lures you down to Hell, everything that you thought you knew about the world is proven wrong.

Word Count: 2800

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! We’re getting to the climax of this story, slowly but surely (sorry this is posted so late it’s been a hectic week). Feedback is always appreciated, and if you liked this chapter please reblog or leave me a comment!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7| Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14: The Fear of Losing This

There’s truly nothing like successfully descending to Hell and back to boost your ego. You only manage to get a couple of hours of sleep before the excitement of knocking out the rest of the Wonders forces you up. Madison’s obviously not pleased to see you out so soon after she sent you to rest, but you’ve assured her that you’re fine and more than ready to get this over with. Surprisingly, it’s your uncle that is the last to enter the large library. He’s dressed impeccably, wearing an ascot fastened with a brooch like he’s going to a fancy dinner instead of administering a test. The dark eyeliner that he’s so fond of lines his eyes, making the already-startling color pop more.

“Warlocks always take so long to get ready.” Madison scoffs, rolling her eyes while appraising John Henry’s outfit. “At least you clean up well, unlike some of the others I know.”

John looks extremely shocked, and you’re sure that you look the same. Madison actually complimenting one of the dreaded warlocks? Surely this must be the first sign that the apocalypse is here.

“Maybe I can give you some tips, my Lady.” John mocks, smirking while Madison glares at him.

“I have thousands of years worth of fashion under my designer belt but thanks.” She snips, hands on her hips to prove her assertiveness. “(Y/N), let’s start the final three tests now that we’re all here.”

“What’s the first test?”

“Transmutation.” Your lips twitch at the first image that pops into your mind.

“Transforming into a mutant? I thought I was doing witchcraft, not joining the X-Men.” You can’t help but to laugh at your own joke, the hilarity only increased by the exasperated look on Madison’s face.

“I don’t know what an ‘X-Men’ is, and I don’t really care to find out. Think of transmutation like teleporting.” Madison directs you to stand over by the wall as she and John Henry converse quietly.

Your uncle holds his hands up, conjuring two items in thin air: a knife and a brick. Furrowing your eyebrows, you look between the two to see if you can discern what each weapon is going to be used for. They both stare back at you stoically, and you rub your palms against your jeans when you realize that they’re suddenly sweaty with nerves.

“Um, what are those for?” You ask.

“Motivation.” John Henry responds.

Before you can further question him, he flings his hand towards you, the brick flying in your direction. Your eyes widen and you let out a squeak of fear. Apparently practice does help to hone skills, since you barely have to think about the spot on top of the staircase before you feel a tugging sensation right above your navel. You land at your designated spot, knees buckling slightly from the impact. The brick smashes into the space against the wall that your head occupied mere milliseconds before. You smile widely when they turn to look at you, but your sassy sentence dies in your mouth when John repeats the action with his other hand.

A knife is a lot more deadly than a brick, and the deadly precision with which John throws it makes it impossible for you to slip up. It’s also flying towards you much quicker than the previous object, giving you absolutely no time to actually think about where you want to go. All you think is that you want across the room, disappearing right as the point of the knife is an inch away from your chest. This time, you reappear behind both Madison and John. Tapping their shoulders, you jokingly pout when they turn around.

“Uncle, I thought you loved me! How could you attempt to kill me?” You say dramatically, placing a hand over your heart.

“I assure you, I only threw those at you because I knew that you were more than capable of dodging them.”

“Are you ready for the next Wonder, (Y/N). I can always throw some fire at you if you want to really make sure that you have transmutation down.” Madison says.

“Madison, was that a joke?” Madison’s M.O. has always been sarcasm, not straight-up jokes.

“You tell anybody about this and I will throw fire at you.” She threatens, but there’s a twinkle in her eye that lets you know she’s only kidding. “Your second-to-last task will be divination, which is using your supernatural abilities to obtain knowledge of any kind.”

“There are multiple ways to divine knowledge, but we figured that scrying would be the best option.” John Henry steps in.

“What’s scrying?” You ask.

“Scrying is using a reflective surface to gain the desired knowledge. For this exercise, we’ll just be using the mirror.” He gestures towards the floor-length mirror that stands in the corner, ornate gold carvings surrounding the surface. “Hecate, if you would be so kind as to tell (Y/N) the item that she will be finding today.”

“Do you remember the silver flowers you wore in your hair the night of the Underworld’s ball?” She waits for you to nod before continuing. “I’ve hidden those somewhere in this building. Using the mirror, I’d like you to tell me the exact location of these flowers.”

You step in front of the mirror, Madison and John Henry moving to the sides so as not to impede your vision. Taking a deep breath to clear your mind, you imagine the flowers that adorned your hair what feels like a lifetime ago. How dainty they are, the cool silver as you brushed a hand through your hair, how carefully Desa threaded them in for you. Then, you let the tendrils of your magic reach through the mirror. You stare intensely through the surface, watching as it wavers like a lake when a rock gets tossed through the water. Instead of the hiding spot of the flowers, though, the mirror darkens along with the edges of your vision. It feels like your eyes are being drawn into the scene even though you’re not moving at all. All you can see is what’s slowly being revealed in front of you.

A blood-red sky hangs above the scene, smoke rising from the ground and blurring everything that you can see. Your heart pounds when the smoke clears enough for you to see the same throne made of bones that terrorized your last nightmare in the Underworld. Ravens continue to circle above it, calling to each other in a language you can’t understand. You’re not really sure you want to understand it, not with the way these birds are glaring at everything that moves. Even worse, the cracked white face and coal-black eyes that make up Michael’s demonic alter ego are prevalent as he lounges on the throne, looking entirely uninterested at what’s going on around him.

It’s like you’re watching a TV show, but you’re the main character. Another you is forced to your knees on the cracked marble floor, the throne rising up ahead. Red blooms on the white fabric that covers your abdomen, the spot growing larger with every passing second. When you cough, blood spills out of your mouth and dribbles down your chin. Satan stands proudly behind Michael’s throne, pulling himself to his full height since there’s no roof to stop him.

“Do it.” Satan growls. His voice reverberates throughout the room, almost like there’s speakers hanging in multiple spots on the walls.

“Michael, please don’t.” The other you pleads, hands pressing against the wound in order to try and stop the bleeding.

“This is your destiny, my son. Kill the girl.” Michael stares at you for a long moment, but the look in his eyes is impossible to figure out with the lack of color.

Invisible demons are chattering from all around you, yelling and snarling in what you think is Latin. The noises reach a crescendo when Michael stands, producing a blade from inside his cloak. The you on the ground shakes the closer he gets, tears welling up in your eyes from fright. His hand tangles in your hair, and you let out a yell when he yanks you up towards him. Smirking, he curls his lip in disgust when you start audibly crying.

“P-please Michael.” You whimper, gripping his arm tightly. “I love you.”

Michael’s silent for a long moment, and you almost start to think you’ve gotten through to him. His fingers twirl the knife around, a telltale sign that he’s thinking about something. His smirk, however, widens into a feral grin.

“What a pity.” He tuts.

With one swift motion, he turns you so that your back is against your chest. It’s a presentation, you realize, a way to show his father that he’s fulfilling these ‘grand’ plans.

“Don’t do this!” You cry.

“Power in your name, Father, and may you rise from the void!” With that, Michael takes the knife and slices your neck open.

A single, wet gasp escapes your mouth as blood gushes out of the cut. Your heart tries to send more blood to the wound in an attempt to clot it, but that only makes you lose blood faster. It coats the front of the once-white sundress that you were wearing, and you’re horrified to watch yourself die.

“Ave Satanas!” Michael calls out as lightning flashes across the sky and thunder booms. Once he’s sure that you’re completely dead, he tosses your body to the ground like a discarded napkin.

You’re pulled back abruptly, the suddenness of the bright lights making you squint your eyes in pain. There’s a high-pitched screaming echoing through the room, and it takes you a moment to realize that it’s yours. The arms wrapped around you pull you to the ground, holding you tightly in an attempt to sedate you.

“(Y/N)! What happened?” A low voice, that you recognize as John Henry’s, says in your ear.

“Holy shit, you’re bleeding out of your eyes.” Madison notes from where she’s crouched in front of you. When you glance at yourself in the mirror, you see that she’s right. Red streaks down your face, coating your eyelashing in a thick mascara of blood.

“I...it was like that nightmare that I had in the Underworld, the one where Michael was sitting on a throne of bones and eating my heart while Satan stood behind him? Only this time, I watched him kill me. He slit my throat.”

“Here, let’s get you cleaned up.” Madison looks at John, who stands and leaves the room to presumably grab a cloth.

“Why did that happen?” You stare at Madison with wide eyes. How did a simple task spiral into something like this?

“Some people, when attempting scrying, have...I don’t want to say visions, because what you saw is not going to happen. They can see possible futures.” Madison explains gently, taking the wet cloth from John and muttering her thanks.

“So I saw the future?” Holy shit, maybe I am an X-Man, you think to yourself.

“A possible future. There’s a million different things that factor into the probability of a future, creating an endless amount of futures. This doesn’t mean that Michael is going to kill you and start the end of the world, but it’s always been a possibility.” She takes great care in not hurting you when she wipes the blood off of your face, especially when she gets close to your eyes.

“Michael wouldn’t kill me though, right? Even...even if his father corrupted him?”

“Michael wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did. Satan would literally have to possess him and carry it out through him in order for Michael to even think about that.” The vision that is still seared into your head is pretty jarring, but the knowledge that Michael was overjoyed to see you just hours ago reassures you that Madison’s right.

“I don’t want to try divination again. I’d rather fail the Seven Wonders than have to look in that mirror for information.”

“You passed.”

“What?” You and John Henry both say at the same time, looking up at Madison in confusion.

“Divination is divining knowledge through supernatural means. You had a vision about the end of the world through looking into a mirror, thus divining the knowledge.”

“Well, definitely never going to use a mirror again if I have to divine something.” You say after a long pause. Madison and John both laugh at your response.

“That’s perfectly okay. Never has any magical being gotten visions from looking at rocks to find knowledge.” John explains.

“If I have it my way, I won’t be doing any divining.” You joke, hugging your knees to your chest. Madison waves her hand, making the now-bloody cloth disappear.

“(Y/N), I know that this was very traumatic for you, so if you would like to suspend testing to rest, we can. But, you do only have one more Wonder to complete.” Madison stands, pulling you to your feet as well.

“What’s the last one?” You ask.

“Vitalum Vitalus.”

“The gift of resurgence.” John Henry fills in when he notices your confusion. “This Wonder involves perfectly balancing the scales between life and death to bring something back to life.”

“Not even Michael can successfully complete this. Seeing as how the prophecy stated that you will be the bridge between the living and the dead, I believe that this will be your most powerful gift.” Madison says.

“Oh God, please don’t do anything fucked up like kill my uncle and make me bring him back.” You roll your eyes.

“Now where would you ever get an idea like that?”

“Hmm, maybe from the fact that you’d love nothing more than to kill a warlock.” You chuckle when Madison smirks, acknowledging defeat.

“Well, we’ll have to find something here that’s dead.”

“It’s a school for warlocks, we keep animals here specifically for this reason.” John Henry interjects, huffing at Madison’s antics before walking out of the room.

You’re anxious, wanting to get this last test over with so you can either reunite with Michael in the Underworld or go back to your home and cry about everything you’ve lost. Sure, you may still have magic, but what use are these gifts if you can’t use them to help save the world? It doesn’t take long for John to return to the room, but by then you’re already up and pacing. He sets the shoebox in his hands down on the table, beckoning you towards him. When you peek into the box, you can’t help but to gasp.

A small rabbit lies dead, nestled on a bed of tissue paper. When you tentatively reach out to touch it, you can feel that it’s still warm.

“Did you kill it?” You ask, an image flashing through your mind of your uncle strangling the helpless creature. John blanches at your expression, awkwardly clearing his throat and avoiding eye contact.

“Bring it back to life.”

Cupping your hands under the rabbit’s body, you shudder as you lift it out of the box. Its body is limp, rigor mortis not yet setting in. Closing your eyes, you focus on the warmth you still feel emanating from the corpse. You imagine the rabbit hopping around, twitching its little nose and suckling from a water bottle in the cute way that all rabbits do. You’re not sure how you know what to do, but something from deep inside you tells you to take a deep breath in before letting it out slowly.

Nothing happens at first. You keep your eyes closed, still focusing on sheer will to bring the rabbit back to life. When you feel the shifting of fur in your palms, you finally open your eyes. The rabbit’s still laying still in your hands, and it takes a moment for you to notice the faint movement as it breathes. Your face lights up when its ears twitch, and you let out a disbelieving laugh when it sits up and stares at you. You don’t know how to react to this situation, so you gently place the rabbit back in the box before looking up at the two who have proctored your tests.

John Henry’s in disbelief, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Madison just looks extremely pleased, ‘I told you so’ written all over her face. You’re kind of in disbelief yourself, at the moment. Honestly, for everything that completing the Seven Wonders was hyped up to be, it’s more than a little underwhelming now that you’ve actually completed them. You were expecting fireworks to go off and for your hands to start glowing. Nothing’s changed, you don’t feel any different, yet the mere knowledge that you hold this amount of magical abilities somehow changes everything.

Tag List: @nana15774 @sammythankyou @queencocoakimmie @let-me-try-mom @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @lichellaw@sebastianshoe@pastel-cloudz @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58@dandycandy75 @alexcornerblog @dolceandchalamet @everything-is-awesomesauce @langdonslove@ccodyfern@consultingsnowqueen @readsalot73 @jimmlangdon@sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @hplotrfan @omg-hellgirl@gallxntdean@storminmytwistedmind @venusxxlangdon@langdonsdemon@kahhlo @americanhorrorstudies@antichristwrites@xxxmaterialistic @forgetting5sos@sadsadiesworld @michaelsapostle @izuniias

[merritidings]

Character Questionnaire: Merrinyn Delorsath

BASICS -

1. Height?

5′5″. (She is of average height. At least in her former settlement.)

2. Eye colour?

Black. (It’s actually dark blue.)

3. Do they need glasses?

No. (That doesn’t stop her from wearing one whenever she feels like it.)

4. Scars and birthmark?

None. (It’s hard to get scars when you’re always far from the action, drowning in books. She did get a paper cut a few days after leaving her old settlement, settling for the surface to learn more about this part of the world, though that amounted to nothing more than a few minutes of annoyance.)

5. Tattoos and piercings?

None.

6. Right or left handed?

Right-handed. (For a time in her youth, she instead she was ambidextrous. That was until she figured out the word she was looking for was “amphibious”.)

7. Any disabilities? Physical or mental.

None. (She can’t pronounce the letter “R” if it’s in the last syllable of a word, as in “wafer” or “paper”, ending up either mispronouncing it as the letter “W” instead, as in “wafew” or “papew”, or accidentally speaking in a British accent. Don’t tell her I told you this. She’s very sensitive about her rhotacism.)

8. Do they have any allergies?

None. (...though she once almost died after eating crab. That was most likely due to improper cleaning of the food. It never happened again. Strange.)

9. Favourite colour?

Seafoam Green. Or blue. (She also likes pink.)

10. Typical outfits?

Whichever works, really. I prefer clothing that would not impede my mobility over clothing that’s all for show. (She used to wear simple sleeveless, collarless, pants-less garments made of coral, see below, until she moved to the surface-world where a kind old lady gave her common clothes for free because she looked “cold” and “very naked”. Still, she tends to rip out the sleeves and collars and even pant-legs of her clothes whenever she feels like it, usually when she’s near the water and there’s no tedious socializing to be had.)

11. Do they wear any makeup?

No. (She does, but only rarely and mostly during “special” occasions.)

12. What weapon do they use, if any?

Between my magic and my staff, I can be quite the formidable fighter. (She isn’t. She has also been thinking of acquiring a trident recently. Three pointed tips are better than one blunt head.)

PERSONALITY -

13. Are they more optimistic or pessimistic?

Neither. I dwell in between optimism and pessimism. Nothing is ever absolutely positive or negative. There is also the middle, and there I thrive. (Technically, she’s more optimistic, considering she’s always optimistic that each day holds new things for her to learn. She does get pretty pessimistic when things don’t go her way, though, especially if she becomes obsessed with learning about something and her progress somehow gets impeded.) 

14. Are they introverted or extroverted?

Neither. I am an ambivert. (Mostly true, though she leans more towards being an introvert, as she spends more time being an introvert, with all her research and reading; however, she doesn’t get drained as much when she has to be an extrovert, though she tends to avoid opportunities where she has to be one.)

15. What are their pet peeves?

When someone interrupts my research on anatomy by slaying the creature I am to observe. *very audible sigh* Brutes... (She also can’t stand people who can’t wait in line, even though she herself hates lines.)

16. What bad habits do they have?

Someone once said I’m terrible with making friends, though to be fair, I’m here to study and learn, not to make friends. (She spends way too much time with her books and research and not enough time connecting with real people. It’s uncertain whether this is because she’s such an obsessive sage or it’s just a triton thing.)

17. Do they have any phobias?

I fear nothing. Fear only exists when one does not understand something. I seek to understand everything. I do not fear. (Insects, especially flying insects, specifically cockroaches. She thinks they’re gross and they always have the high ground when it comes to the element of surprise. She’d probably like them if they were larger, though, since she’d at least be able to keep them from entering her orifices without permission. Oh, and falling from great heights. She hates that.)

18. How do they display affection?

I don’t. Affection is unnecessary. As long as you are useful and efficient, you are. (She really doesn’t. At least, she doesn’t know how to. Even her compliments are awkward and strange.)

19. How competitive are they?

Competition is good as motivation for personal growth, but only when it motivates a competitor towards personal growth. (She isn’t as competitive as others are, though it’s mostly because she’s a triton and tritons don’t really consider surface dwellers as competition. At least, that’s what she believes.)

20. If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?

No response. (It differs on a daily basis, more like it adds up, but she doesn’t take to it like changing herself because she doesn’t like herself. It’s actually more of changing something here and then something there to unleash the full potential of her existence. Like having eyes that see better in the deepest dark or gills that can allow her to safely breathe in any environment. It’s alteration in the spirit of evolution, not alteration because of emotions.)

21. Do they have any obscure hobbies or routines?

Is collecting forks an obscure hobby? (It is.)

BACKSTORY -

22. What are the names and ages of their close family members? Parents, siblings, etc.

My father’s name is Mernes and my mother’s name is Erryn. I have one older brother, Jharvas, and no other siblings.

23. Is their family alive and are they still in contact with them?

Yes, they are all alive and well. My father and my mother live together back home while my brother has also set out to, according to him, find himself. I’m certain he’s simply pursuing the vampire woman again. Men have never been quite as smart as us. (Her brother is indeed with a female vampire but he’s not pursuing her. They’re working together, trying to make a life with each other.)

24. Where are they from? City, nation?

I’m from the sea, the depths of which no surface dweller may survive. (Her settlement is within the oceans east of Hegaehend, far east. They call it the City of Sh'lafijn, though others simply refer to as Marai.)  

25. Did they have a childhood best friend?

I had childhood friends, though I don’t think it wise to select from them a singular best. (She does. Her name was Dhorimyn. They’ve lost contact over the years. The last she’s heard of her, Dhorimyn had left their settlement for parts unknown.)

26. Have they had any pets?

I had a pet shark named Kadita. (They’re dead now.)

27. Did they grow up rich or poor? What were their living conditions like?

We used to move a lot when I was but a young girl. It took my parents a while to settle down in a place of our own. We were neither rich nor poor. We were in the middle. 

28. What is their educational background?

I went through formal schooling, learned from the greatest mentors of my settlement, and grew into a fine sage. I learned more on my own than I did with anyone. (She’s not kidding. Her curiosity actually led to her amassing more knowledge about things outside of their settlement than the “greatest mentors” of their settlement, which were the only 10 triton scholars of their settlement.)

29. As a child, what did they want to be when they grew up?

I always wanted to be a scholar, and now, here I am. (At one point, she also wanted to be a kraken. She thought having more limbs would be efficient. She was three.) 

30. What advice would they give to their younger self?

If I ever, for some strange reason, meet my younger self, I would simply tell her to continue swimming towards her current path. She will become me, and I am the best she can ever be. (We’ll agree to disagree.)

31. Growing up, were they ever bullied or were they the bully?

I was never bullied. I never bullied anyone. I just didn’t have the time. All my focus were on my studies and my research. (She was bullied. For being too absorbed in her studies. She was often referred to as the “teacher’s suckerfish” by the other children. To this day, she still thinks it was a compliment because “a suckerfish assists its host by feeding off of its parasites.” She wasn’t wrong.)

32. Who do they look up to/who is their role model?

No response. (She currently doesn’t look up to anyone, especially since she’s out of the sea and she takes to surface dwellers as subjects to study, not mentors to put on a pedestal. She used to look up to an older mentor from her settlement but he died after trying to “befriend” a female shark as a male shark, so that was that. It’s a long story, and it’s not what you think.)

PRESENT -

33. Do they currently have a place of residence?

I rented a small place for me and my...friends in Arx, at the Whale Water Port. It’s close to the water, plenty of fish, and has access to several libraries and universities. It’s the best place for me here on the surface. (Remember the kind old lady who gave her free clothes because she looked “very naked”? That became her landlady. It’s a good place for someone living “alone”.)

34. What is their most treasured possession?

My most treasured possession? I suppose the letter from my late colleague could fill this role. For now. At least until I find the answer to his question, and I will. Eventually. (She’s not as into possessions as most people are, so having a treasured...item isn’t on her radar. That should change once she gets a particular trident, though, and maybe a particular cloak and a particular decanter to boot. Maybe.)

35. What is their drink of choice?

I don’t drink that much, but I seemed to have developed a taste for the drink called Bilgewater. It reminds me so much of home. (Bilgewater is of course the bluish-brown, sometimes jet black, concoction that's made by soaking the inner organs of various sea creatures soaking in a fermented brine and then running them through a sieve to remove the bones and viscera. It's usually on most tavern's menu for at least 5 copper pieces, or you can ask your friendly neighborhood fisher to brew you one for the same price. The only real side effect of this drink it that the lingering taste of rotten, brackish seafood remains on the palette for a few hours.)

36. Which king/queen are they loyal to, if any?

None have sought me out yet, so I’m loyal to none. That should change if any reach out and we find ourselves agreeing in our principles. (So long as she get to do her research, she’s not very picky on a monarch to side with, but only if completely necessary. She’d rather not get drawn to unnecessary conflict if they can avoid them.)

37. Have they ever killed anyone?

No response. (In every attempt at progress, there will always be a casualty or two. Maybe even three. It is rarely intentional, however.)

38. What was their last promise and did they keep it?

I promised my brother I’d stay with our parents, keep them safe... (She could not keep that promise.)

LOVE -

39. What was their first kiss like, if they’ve had one?

It was...wet. And pretty sloppy. The things we do to satiate our curiosity, right? (Of course it was wet. She was underwater. It was mostly sloppy because it was their first kiss, and her “research” partner was understandably nervous, especially since she secretly liked Merrinyn. They never spoke of it again, mostly because Merrinyn concluded that it was not a fruitful experiment and Dhorimyn decided to keep her secret her own.)

40. Are they in a relationship/have a love interest?

Love is an unnecessary distraction that I cannot currently afford. (She is too busy with her research to consider a relationship, any kind of relationship, at the moment.)

41. Have they ever been in love?

Like I said, an unnecessary distraction. (She has not, though she believes she has.)

42. Have they ever had their heart broken?

No response. (Numerous times: When her pet shark Kadita passed away, when her older brother Jharvas left them in pursuit of a vampire, when she slowly lost contact with Dhorimyn, and when her favorite mentor died to sharks while in the form of a shark.)

SPIRITUALITY - 43. Do they follow a god, if so who?

I don’t follow gods. I don’t have faith in them as much as others do. I only have faith in myself, in what I can see, and in what I can prove. (That said, she does appear to admire both Habbakuk and Melora, especially the latter whose stories and lore she views as quite inspiring.)

44. What do they think happens to them after death?

I cease to exist and my body decays to join nature and the sea. That’s it. That’s all there is to it.

45. What is their spirit animal?

A kraken. Definitely a kraken. (She’s more like a dolphin, but okay.)

[quirkwizard]

Duds and Duds: Second Cut

Over the past twenty weeks, I have been reviewing the various costumes of the Class 1-A students in a series called Duds and Duds. This was done in an effort to not only see the various strengths and weakness of their costume from both a practical and aesthetic look, but how these costumes could be improved. While there have been many highs and lows, I happy to say that I am satisfied with how the series has turn out. Now that I am done raiding their wardrobes, I can move on to talking about some of the points I did not cover in the original postings.

Everyone

Armor

While I see the reason in giving armor to some of the students, I don’t think that such a thing would be strictly beneficial for everyone. As what a hero are capable of is so varied, so are the needs of their costume. Take Uraraka as an example, whose main concern is her weight limitation. Having armor would just add more weight onto her body and strain her Quirk. Another example of this is Ojiro. His style of fighting is very acrobatic and relies on him being able to move around effectively and armor would impede his ability to do so. Something like this applies to Shoji, as armor would put a damper on his big advantage of flight.

You also need to remember that a lot of heroes fight with their bare hands. Which makes sense given that Quirks are biological in nature and so using their body is the most effective method of attacking. In this way, it’s best to think of them as martial artists. And like most martial artists, they don’t use armor. But that is because armor can be clunky and difficult to move it, so it is disregarded so they can move their body more effectively. Most people could get away with using armor because they had a weapon of some kind to do most of the fighting for them over using their body, like a gun or a sword. Heroes don’t have that kind of luxury because they need their body more often then not for fighting.

Something like armor works better for characters that like Tokoyami, Koda, or Jiro, whose styles of fighting are very detached from the actual battle. With Tokoyami relying mostly on Dark Shadow to do everything, Koda relying on the animals and Jiro using sonic attacks from a distance. They can afford to have armor since they aren’t toe-to-toe fighters who have to worry about stamina or the armor hindering them. Plus, most of the people in the series seem at least somewhat superhuman, able to take much more punishment then a regular human.

Kaminari

Adding rubber to deal with watt limit

Kaminari’s issue isn’t that he shocks himself when he uses his Quirk. His issue is that he can only produce so many watts before he ends up going brain dead. An issue that is only compounded upon since Kaminari is so liberal with the use of his electricity. It’s why I advised giving some kind of metal, allowing him to focus the electricity he produces and not waste it all in a single blast. But even if such a thing was the case, lining his costume with rubber would make it so he couldn’t fire out his electricity since rubber is an insulator, making it more detrimental then anything.

Koda

Animal Food

Given his animal loving nature, the idea of Koda carrying around food to thank the animals that help him is a very in-character choice. However, I’m not sure if such an addition would be that useful. Any kind of food would likely go bad if it was be carried around in a hot pouch. Unless he were to carry around nuts, berries, and other non-perishable fruits. But some animals may not be able to properly eat the food he is serving and would possibly just kill them. And I doubt he would necessarily need them to attract animals to him, since his voice would surely reach farther then the scent of any food he would carry. And wouldn’t it be more useful for Koda to carry around a medikit? Such a thing would be more practical and still fit in with Koda’s more caring nature. Not only would an accessory like that be able to help out any injured people, it would also help out any animals that were hurt while he was controlling them. Which may actually help him deal with any guilt he may have from using the animals in such a way.

Tokoyami 

Unfoldable Cloak

But Tokoyami doesn't seem to have much issue with his cloak in the first place, being easily able to remove it and take his arms out at a moments notice. Even if he did have an issue with that, having it unfloldable would leave cracks that would hinder Dark Shadow’s ability to recover; inhibiting the whole purpose of the robe. If it’s to have it so he is able to fight as well, that comes with it’s own issues. Tokoyami isn’t exactly a front line fighter, preferring to let Dark Shadow pull most of the weight. While I do think that he would be a more effective hero if he fought with Dark Shadow, I think that Dark Shadow would be the more reliable member of that duo. Ergo, it would be more practical to leave the costume as it is now so that Tokoyami can more reliably use “Dark Shadow”. I believe that the better option for Tokoyami would be to adjust himself and way of fighting around the cape, taking a few ideas from Ectoplasm on learning how to kick well. 

Mina

Acid Proofing

In all likelihood, the material designed to resist acid found on Mina’s boot is constrictive and hard to move in. Something like that goes against Mina’s whole strategy of moving fast and using her natural acrobatic abilities to out maneuver opponents. There also hasn’t been an incident with her melting her clothes, which is rather surprising with a power like “Acid”, so either she doesn't need it or she already has something like that in place to prevent such an unfortunate event.

Acid Shooters

The whole reason why Mina has her arms completely free is so she can finely manipulate the acid while she is making it, allowing her to make shields or throw the acid like a baseball. She can also lob the globs well enough that any kind of shooter would be redundant, if not a direct downgrade.

Hagakure

Reflective Clothing

While I see the logic behind giving Hagakure some kind of clear clothing, I doubt such a thing would be an improvement. Something that is transparent is not going to be as transparent as Hagakure. Light passes through her completely, but other materials will be far more noticeable. Whether that be because light will hit them and cause a glint or seeing it pressed up against Hagakure will end up just giving her away.

DNA Mesh

I know many people offer the suggestion of a DNA mesh costume, similar to what Mirio has. However, the reason why it worked with Mirio was because his Quirk was a Transformation type. The whole point of putting his hair in there was to trick his Quirk into thinking that his costume was a part of his body. That same kind of thinking wouldn't apply to Mutant types or Emitter types, at least not ones like Hagakure's or Momo's. Considering that “Creation” is an Emitter type, it may just tear through any kind of clothing she has, regardless of whether or not it is made of Momo. If you tired something like that with Hagakure, considering her Quirk is always on, all you would get is a suit that is only invisible in parts. If you wanted a suit that was entirely invisible, you would have either cover it in her hair or make it out of her hair. And that is just not practical in any sense, as such a thing would likely be destroyed or damaged and take an extended period of time to fix.

The reason why it works with Tsuyu, in spite of her being a Mutant type, is that her camouflaging abilities are more akin to a Transformation type. As such, it makes more sense that her costume would be modified to allow it to change with her.

Momo

Open Back

There are two issues with this idea. The first is that Momo would just be trading out one source of fat for an inferior source of fat. When it comes to women, more fat is stored in the stomach and thighs then on the rest of the body. Which is why Momo’s costume features them so prominently. The second and bigger reason is that it is easier for Momo to use what she made if it was in the front. She can easily use it or grab it if it is made in front of her instead of behind her. It simply wouldn’t be as convenient if Momo had to awkwardly reach around her back to grab something and the amount of times she would need something out of her back is small.

Replacing the book with Google Glass/Arm Pad

I feel like this is more of a side grade then a straight improvement. Sure, something like an arm iPad or smart glasses would be easier to use then the book, especially if such things come with voice command. But things like that could just as easily be destroyed by the villains as her book. And unlike the book, creating something like that takes more fat to burn or at least be costly to replace. Something like that also needs to be recharged, making it somewhat unreliable unless Momo makes or carries around a portable battery. And going back to the speaking option, if such a thing is available, may give away her plans or at least the components of her plan.

Sports bra and shorts

Again, you are cutting off a major source of fat from Momo with something like a sports bra. You also lose some of the utility of her current design. The whole point of the swim suit design is so Momo can pull it apart and put it back on without much hassle. That way she is able to create one larger object or several objects at a moment’s notice without her destroying her costume. Some sports bra with a zipper may accomplish the same thing, but there are more variables in that. Like the zipper breaking, an event that could easily happen in her line of work, or getting caught in something. Even having something like zipper would slow her down. That’s not event mentioning the fact that she could easily start fumbling with the zipper with trying to cover back up.

Wearing a cloak

It wouldn’t really offer much to her get up. If the idea would be to surprise people with what she creates, I think that element of uncertainty would be lessened if the enemy could see the outline. The only real advantage to that would be if she made something handheld, like her flashbangs, but that is still a small amount of her items. There is also the fact that such a cloak would weigh her down, could be easily grabbed by a villain, and likely cause her some kind of heat stroke during the summer time. Something like that would work with Tokoyami because he needs a cover of some kind to “heal” Dark Shadow. Dark Shadow is also not impeded by any kind of clothing Tokoyami wears, as it seems to just phase through anything he wears.

I’ve also seen people suggest that she wear a poncho and nothing underneath. But given how intense some of the battles in the series can be, wind blowing everywhere and the like, Momo is going to end up flashing more people then Hagakure.

Thank everyone who sent in suggestions, it really did help. If any of you want to be credited for any suggestions or me to answer your asks directly, do let me know. If any of you have any issues with what I said or have any other suggestions, feel free to send them in.

[a-dracon]

To Allure and Impede

SUMMARY: Marvin Lockens was fifteen when he was brought under Jameson Jackson’s wing and first started learning how to control and use his magic. Since then, he’s met Henrik Schneeplestein, the Castle’s doctor and his father figure, Chase Brody, the Castle’s Third in Command and best archer around, Jackie Bullmon, the Second in Command and Head Guard who’s always wearing red, and Sean McLoughlin, the King Himself, as well as various others. Yet, despite being with them for more than four years and proving to be a skilled mage, they all still treated him like the shy child they first met. And he was tired of it. What happens when he meets a stranger in the woods, who gives him cards to hand out and disappears into the shadows? What happens when he hides it from everyone? What happens at the Masquerade?

W̙͍̠̿̄͘h̬̲͇̻͎̍a̖̣͇̯͌̈͆ͯ̒͊̿t͇̗̖͕̻̽̄̑ ͚̼̜̪̥͎ͪͬ͊ͦͫ̉̚H̻̯͈͎͇͎͇ͣͣ͛͛ͣ̇ã̠̼̝̖̫̌̽ͯ̍̑p̝̌̐̿̔ͩͤṗ̷̻̳ͤ̂͋ͬ̋͒e̫̪̣̽̐ń͓͚̞͈̲̯͡s̶̀̐͋͂̈?̥̖͊͘

Chapter 3 Words: 1439 Warnings: Mental Breakdown, vague mentions of abuse, self deprecating talk A/N: OOOOHHHHHHHH BOY YALL ARE GONNA MURDER ME FOR THIS CHAPTER AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Not gonna lie i hurt myself writing this. But hey, I TRIED ADDING FLUFF and ended up adding angst too im SORRY. Anyways, all chapters arw under #TAI AU

and btw, thank my beta readers @lin-apples and @jackjames-exe as per usual

previous // next

Inhale. Exhale. In. Out. Left. Right. Left. Right. Blink. Keep running. Dont look back.

they don't care. They can do better. They dont need you. They'll throw you out too.

Marvin kept running. He ignored the branches hitting his face. Ignored the searing pain in his chest. Ignored the cold, the tears in his clothes. Run away from them. Run away from those thoughts. Don't think. Focus on running. Don't let them find you. Hide. Don't disappoint them.

He didn't know when he reached the familiar house, nor how. All he knew was that one moment he was tearing through the mud, falling, running. The next, hes shivering, wet from tripping into the small stream, knocking on the dark wood door.

A woman opened the door, wavy red hair messy and tied back. She blinked for a few moments, before registering how the mage apprentice in front of her looked. "...Marvin? Marvin, hon, what happened?!" She exclaimed, cupping his face and pushing his green hair away from his eyes. "Come in, come in!"

"You...what happened hon? You're covered in dirt and you're wet, Lucy can you start the fire?" She pulled him inside, already working to remove the wet articles of clothing. "Lets get you warmed up so you dont get pneumonia or hypothermia, ok?" Lucy, who Marvin remembers seeing with Henrik and Marissa, had brought over a quilt and handed it to her mother. She promptly wrapped him up, pulling him to the fire. "Come here, tell me what happened. Talk to me."

Marvin was tearing up, shivering and curling close to the mother figure. Everything in his mind was beginning to settle in, and it was terrifying him. But Marissa didn't push, just held him while Lucy wrapped around his waist. ".....it's okay hon, you're alright...you're safe....."

The dam broke, and suddenly he was clinging to her, sobbing, letting everything spill from his lips. Telling her about the woods, the mystery person, the cards. He told her about the ride home, the lies he told, the outburst. He told her about how he snapped, how he ran from them, how he ran away from the castle. He told her about how he was scared and didnt know why, how he was terrified.

The entire time, she listened. She held him close, carding a hand through his green hair. She didn't let go. Lucy had left, most likely to retrieve something to help comfort the apprentice.

" .....oh hon....." Marissa breathed, seeming to hold him even closer than before. "i won't tell Henrik about this, or Jamie. But i do advise you to give those cards away and get rid of them." A whine escaped Marvin's lips. He didnt want to confront them, not now. There was too much fear, too much tension.

Marissa seemed to sense this. "It doesn't have to be immediately, just soon, alright? Now, Henrik isn't due home any time soon, with the masquerade coming up. And I'm not telling anyone about you being here, so if you want to stay for a few days you go ahead. But for now, lets get you cleaned up." The ginger helped him up, guiding him to the guest room. She chuckled, seeing a bunch of her daughter's stuffed animals being spread over the bed. Even Marvin smiled softly at the sight, the 10-year-old's attempt at cheering him up warming his heart.

"There's clothes on the bed. If you need anything either come get me or tell Luce to come get me, okay?" Marissa murmured. "My room is right down the hall."

Marvin was torn. On one hand, he wanted to go in that room and disappear forever. On the other hand, he wanted, no, needed comfort. He needed to be held, to be told it was alright. He needed to feel safe.

He fell onto his knees, wrapping his arms around Marissa. She made a small noise of surprise, but held him tight. It didn't matter that Marvin was an adult, it didn't matter that it had been years since he was held like this. No, right now it was a mother, holding the scared fourteen year old child that was covered in scars and left on the streets to die, all because he had abilities that were feared. All because he didn't know control yet.

She guided him to the bed carefully, turning around only to let him change into more dry clothing, and tucked him in. At one point, Lucy had joined them, curling up next to Marvin. Marissa had smiled, and stayed with them. She hummed a lullaby, only stopping when they were both asleep. Carefully, she took off the mask that hid his scars, and set it on the nightstand.

She smiled, pressing a kiss to both Marvin and Lucy's foreheads. While Marvin was only a little more than ten years younger than her, and found on the streets, he was her child. And just because he was nineteen, that made no difference to her.

Marissa got up, blowing out all but one of the candles. She quietly walked to the door, taking one last glance at the pair.

"Sweet dreams Marvin, Lucy" she murmured, shutting the door.

"You don't really believe her, don't you?" 

Marvin whirled around, seeing the figure of the person in the woods. Around him, there was nothing but a black void. It seemed to be endless, not an ounce of light anywhere. And in the center of it all was a dark silhouette of a person, covered by a cloak. Though, he could see the green eyes underneath the hood, slitted like a cat's.

"You think that you can stay away for a day or two, and everything will be alright?" The male continued, steadily approaching the mage. "You think it will be normal? News flash, Marvin, it won't be! They'll use this against you. Call you a child, make choices for you. Never give you your freedom."

"....whst do I do?" Marvin looked down, defeated. Whoever he was....he was right. They would see him as the baby, the child that was brought to Jameson four years ago. Nothing more.

The figure grinned. " Perform. Pass out the cards. Make yourself known. If everyone loves you, it will be easier for you to have the freedom you crave. The freedom you NEED. The freedom they won't give you."

The world seemed to grow darker, and Marvin could tell he was waking up. "And one more thing. Don't tell her about this. In fact, don't tell anyone." His voice echoed, before the figure surrounded by darkness disappeared from his vision.

"-vie! Marvie!"

Marvin shot up, breathing heavily. He was slightly ahaking, and covered in a cold sweat. Light peeked in from behind the curtains, and a candle close to dying sat on the dresser.

He jumped, feeling hands wrap around his waist. It was Lucy, hair messed up and looking worried for the older male. "....you were shaking and saying things...." She murmured, sounding concerned and scared. Marvin was like her older brother, afterall. And to see him vulnerable....it was scary to see those who are like protectors break.

Marvin breathed a sigh of relief, pulling her in for a proper hug. "Shh, its okay....I'm alright, see? Just a bad dream." He murmured. He was well aware that later he would be handing out cards, giving everyone a hint of magic in their lives. But for now, it felt like his heart was saying that it was best to stay and be a protective older brother. And so he would listen, at least for a little while.

Jameson was pacing. He had hardly any sleep, save for when he dozed off for just over two hours at his desk. So far no one had found him. Jack had to stay in the castle, so he tried to help search in discreet ways. Henrik had stayed as wel, in case Marvin returned or was brought back injured. Chase had taken his horse and combed through the woods, finding nothing but a couple scraps of material too close to the castle to help. Jackie had taken to the streets, having no luck. He even tried Marissa and Henrik's house, but she denied him ever coming by. 

To say he was stressed was an understatement. He was filled with concern, worried about Marvin. It was his fault, he was the one who snapped. And, according to Henrik and Chase, he had been acting weird all day. Yet he never noticed it.

Jameson sat down in his chair, running a hand through his hair and leaning back.

He just hoped Marvin was okay.

WHOOOOOOO okay just a heads up:

Marissa is Henrik's wife. We dont have a canon name for her or her child's canon name/gender. All we know is that Henrik jas a wife and kids, and I had a friend name her. She found Marvin on the street, face scarred up and just overall beaten up. She took him in for just over a year, then he started going with Henrik to the castle to be taught by Jameson. Hee would always go home with Henrik tho.

now you know.

[zeronexfenris]

The start of a New Day

((Warning little bit of violence and stuff!))

((Also - Music added at the bottom. Please clicky and play the music while reading for ~Immersion~))

Chapter One: Woman in the Fog.

   Dense fog layered the cemetery of Raven Hill, wandering undead lingered, animals expelling their normal tunes or noises. Given essence to the night, but also danger that may be unseen. Fog gave moisture to the air, making scent or usage of other senses harsher. Cemetery was darker than usual, the tall plus wide trees shadowing the forest of Duskwood in a blanket, shrouding any daylight that desired to break through. Many mixtures of smells littered this area, rotting of flesh, decaying animal corpses, even dead adventures or civilians who traversed through these parts unarmed, or unskilled. Fire, from a camp nearby was the only dim source of light, ambience of cooking also lingered in the air. A spell of its own to those hungry, or traveling. A male with broad shoulders, tall in nature, standing Six Foot Seven with a muscular build., wearing black, gold, and blue armor stood near a tomb, perhaps waiting for a friend? Associates? Flock themselves? Who knew, but only this geared man named Zeronex Fenris.

   Hours had passed, eyes scanning the location around him or what he could see due to the fog’s vision imparities which gave issues to his ability in tracking scents as well. “How much longer?” Inquired Zero, being restless and easy. Hands clasped behind his back but loose enough incase issues arose, or an attack happened. “What is even the point?’ Words expelling softly to himself, Zero looked up in time to see a bear lazily walking by, stopping to gander upon the view. Head moving back down, the bear felt no sense of threat from Zero, only continuing on with it’s own life. “The Fuck, least the bear showed some sign of acknowledgement to me, I’m not going to wait here any longer if this keeps up.” Frustrated, becoming uneasy even further, Zero paced around the small safe area next to a tomb, head shaking, mumbling, and for what? What is the god dam point? These thoughts only continued to harbor and grow within his mind. Stopping, an eerie sound came from within the fog. Greatsword now drawn, head on a swivel, the man looked around, saying nothing, but on guard. The hell is that? Zero asked silently as the sound was heard once more. Bells!? Who the Fuck, wears bells for one? And Two, if you’re sneaking around. That is a stupid ass idea. Shaking his head, focus returned, now looking in the direction of said sound.

   Cling, ding, ding, ding, these bells sounded off as the approach was apparent to Zero. They were heading his direction. “Who is there!?” He called out, only hoping it was an ally, or associate, and nothing more. “I hear you!” The male called out, hands upon the sword tightening before a shadowed figure appeared, stepping into sight. “You!?” The male inquired, uneasy as to the reason the other was here. “What are you here for? How did you find me?” Further questions riddled out, Zero taking a defensive posture. A Female voice spoke. “It is time, Zeronex.” his eyes narrowed. “Time for what exactly, Lyia?” Both the female’s weapons were drawn, Amber eyes hidden behind a red and silver cowl, Dahlyia wore little armor, skin tight leathers covering the chest, and upper part of her body, while what looked like exotic black underwear wrapped around the lower half. Leather thigh highs, with red and green gloves fitted those hands. Spiked, red and black shoulder armor, black boots and a fur red cloak draped down the back. Two revolvers holstered upon the thighs, One, across her chest for three in total. “For your capture my dear.” Words coming out cold, harsh, but true. “They desire you now.” Spoke Lyia. “It is my job, to retrieve you. I tracked you through scent. Has hard as it was, a lot of focus went into doing such.” head shook, Red hair being pushed into the cowl. “Shall we begin?”

   Drawing both revolvers, several shots were fired at Zeronex, numerous aiming for the shoulders and thighs of the male. Looking impede movements, slow him down. She was a ranged fighter, but also had two Rapiers for close combat, meaning, she was efficient with both fighting styles. Zeronex rose his weapon, Cling, ding. Couple of rounds bouncing off the weapon, plus his shoulder, though one found a weak point, imbedding into the right thigh. “GAH!” Shouted the male in response to the pain, body protesting, red liquid dripped from the wound. Charging, Zero swiped first vertically, trying to avoid damage to her mid section since he knew the woman was pregnant. No desire in harming the child. Lyia jumped back, firing another couple of rounds, many, still bouncing off the chest plate, or shoulders but once more. A single round penetrated the man’s stomach. “FUCK! Why Lyia!?” No response came from the woman. “What the hell!?” he’d shout, anger driving the man. He realized it was put her down, or he was going down.

   Axe slammed into the ground, just missing Lyia as she grunted and gasped, back peddling quickly, she had no time to reposition. Zeronex came in once more, taking this opportunity. Disarm her, Just disarm her, nothing more. If I can do that, freedom is mine. The man thought, swinging that Greataxe upward. Lyia’s eyes widened, knowing now she was screwed, attempting the woman lept to the left but felt light when doing so. Slash...Thud. her right arm was upon the ground, blood curdling screams of agony washed throughout the Cemetery, blood dripping and rushing from her shoulder. Squirting through the hand which covered the major wound. Panting, groaning, grunting, cussing, all came from the woman before those amber eyes met his own masked face. “Fucker!” She cried out, standing and drawing one rapier with the left hand. ‘I have less than two minutes before I am done. I have to make this count. I must.’ She stated silently, eyeing him closely. ‘If I use that..I would have a minute.’ Zeronex back peddled, shocked, gasping, he didn’t know what to do. ‘Severing the arm of a pregnant woman. No, I didn’t want to do that.’ Focus lost for numerous moments till regained, seeing the woman with a weapon drawn. ‘No, don’t push yourself. Think about the child. You’re going to bleed out and die. Lyia, don’t..Please don’t.’ Words pleading within his mind. Two steps forward were taken, the woman vanished.

   ‘Above? Right? Left? Behind? Where the hell is she?’ Hand gripped the Greataxe. ‘I don’t want this any longer.’ Looking to the ground in front of him, Zeronex noticed a Greenish blue droplet. ‘Poison? Lyia, just leave.’ He’d sigh. ‘But, she wont. Spooks always strike from behind. So.’ He’d start to turn around before noticing Lyia appeared in front of him. ‘In front!?’ Zero was surprised. ‘The Fuck Woman!?’ Rapier driven twice into him. First, the stomach, second, the upper right thigh. Weapons pulled out and she seemed to do a little dance before vanishing, Zeronex swung the sword, missing her. ‘Shit.’ She’d appear on his right side, not making the same mistake twice, he parried the blow before seeking to grab Lyia. Once more, vanishing. ‘The shit is this?’ Looking down he saw the blood upon the ground. ‘Lyia...you’re killing yourself..Stop.’ Now appearing behind him, she drove the rapier through the waist line, then right shoulder really quickly before vanishing. Zeronex took numerous steps forward before regaining postion. ‘Above.’ Looking upward. There Lyia was, twirling while descending upon him. ‘Not this time.’ His arm reached out.

   “UrrrrGHH!” Cried Lyia, rolling on the ground before hitting a tombstone which stopped her movements. The woman moved to sit up, reaching for a com device and signalling for the ERU. Zeronex had successfully stopped the final attack, sidestepping before grabbing her wrist, slamming her into the ground before spinning and tossing her like a rag doll. Bloody, lossing focus, the body threatened unconsciousness. “Heh..Got you.” Lyia spoke, panting, gasping, fighting for air and her life now. Zeronex fell to his knees. “The poison?” Inquired the male as Lyia laughed. “Correct. It is a mind numbing poison, mixed with a sleep potion. First, the senses dull, making you seem drunk. Motor functions are lost. After a bit, you lose consciousness. Don’t worry, you won’t die.” With Zero’s last bit of strength, hand rose, muttering a spell. Her wound, began slowing in amounts at which blood spilled, though not stopped fully. It would buy her some time. “Next time, think about the child.” His eyes closed, not before hearing voices, and heavy plated armor heading in his direction. “Fuck me.” Zeronex said before all was black. Mind, slipping into a dream.

((Hey all! I want to give a special shout out to Lyia for helping me out with this post. In the next coming weeks leading up to BFA I will be posting far more frequently as I lead the story forward. Much has transpired with Zeronex and as I try to find my creative jive again. I will be focusing on Tumblr along with RP as well. Thank you all that have been a part of Zero’s story, and those that want / will become a part of it in time. I look forward to creating with you all. Much love! ~Mikey~))

[hithelleth]

The Originals 5 x 06 “What, Will, I, Have, Left”

I went into it already hating it. Justifiably.

Let’s get away with the few good things first.

Klaus and Caroline (who went after Hope and Roman on a road trip) were cute and great, but it’s hard to be happy about it, considering.

(Though, there was also that BS about Caroline never feeling safe, when Caroline was the only one who was safe around Klaus to the point that the gang sent her to distract him because he would never hurt her – except that one time... you know, these writers and their inconsistencies started long before now in TVD S4.)

As always, loved Vincent and Freya’s friendship.

I also loved Ivy and Vincent and her asking him when he was last happy (poor guy, before Sabine even) and telling him keeping things away from people is also taking away their choice and not knowing is sometimes worse than knowing (re: telling Declan about the supernatural, since he was worried about Hayley.)

Oh, and BTW, Declan is Camille’s cousin? (Okay, he’s Irish, fine, but weren’t the O’Connells the last of their line or something? IDK, my memory is faulty. And I don’t give a fuck either way.)

I also loved Hayley and Hope (Hayley is really such a great mother!), but that is where the pain starts.

We’ve all known this would happen since last year’s SDCC and I can’t even cry; I’m just beyond pissed off.

Okay, so, Roman brought Hope to Hayley, believing Greta just wants them to bind their hybrid side and then they would let them go and everyone would live in peace. Stupid naïve boy. Though, I guess him having his family slaughtered twice, once by werewolves and then by Klaus (Although, wait, Klaus didn’t do it, did he? (I guess he meant ‘extended family’ or something’?)) explains his devotion to Greta, but still.

Greta, meanwhile, went to Antoinette to lie about being worried about Roman’s involvement with Hope that required Elijah protecting him from Klaus and they fell hook-line-and-sinker for it. Antoinette was clued in that it wasn’t like that when Roman called with the true version, but couldn’t go after them before nightfall.

Hayley agreed to the binding so she would break the cloaking spell (because Hope cloaked her as a hybrid) and so Hope could escape – because Hayley couldn’t due to being just a vampire now and it being daylight outside.

Unfortunately, Greta arrived just then, backed by Elijah who snapped Caroline’s neck and fought Klaus who arrived at the same time.

Greta tried to convince Roman to kill Hope, then a fight with Hayley ensued and since Hayley was impeded by sunlight, Greta got the upper hand and almost ripped her heart out, but Hayley broke her hand at the last moment and lurched both of them outside to burn in the sun.

And all that time, Elijah was repeatedly staking Klaus, so he couldn’t have helped.

Yeah, what a great fucking idea this train of events was.

And for what? For what?!

But before I get to that, this whole SL doesn’t make sense.

For starters, where was Marcel the entire episode? Yeah, I know CMD was directing, but he is more than capable of doing a great job of both directing and acting in the episode, as proved by 4x07 (not to mention all the eps directed and acted in by his co-stars and countless other actors on other shows.)

Are you telling me Marcel wouldn’t be the first Freya and/or Klaus called for reinforcements? Are you telling me he wouldn’t be doing everything he could on his own, anyway, to find Hayley and Hope and worrying every single moment? Are you saying he wouldn’t jump at the first possible moment to help when he learned where Hayley is? BS.

So, Marcel was just inexplicably non-existent.

That’s one, and far from stupidest writing decision.

Two: the whole Elijah is the only one who can stop Klaus thing? Are you kidding me? Did we forget how in S2 of TVD the only way for Elijah to get to kill Klaus was catching him when he was vulnerable during the moment of transformation when breaking the binding? And that was even before he was a hybrid! And ever since then, the only couple of times that Elijah one-upped Klaus was when catching him unawares and even that not for long.

But never mind. Let’s give that a pass, Elijah caught him by surprise and Klaus was perhaps not giving 100% because it was Elijah and he was also distracted by wanting to help Hayley (but wouldn’t he achieve that by incapacitating Elijah the fastest? And wouldn’t Klaus in a rage fit to help the mother of his child be even stronger than normally?) But, fine, let’s leave it.

Three: we also forgot about the Hollow and two Originals being in proximity for more than a second brining all the signs of doomsday around, let alone two Originals being in proximity to each other AND Hope. No, nada this episode.

So much sloppy writing.

(Three/II: Elijah’s memory loss/compulsion. Why didn’t it wear off by him having burnt himself in the sun? That could count as a temporary death even for an original? (Speaking of, even an Original should need some time to recover from that, but it’s been a few days at most and he’s as good as new.) Also, apparently Elijah put his daylight ring back or had a new one made? For the greater cause, right? Or did we just forget the burning in the same line that we mentioned taking the ring off? Shoddy writing galore. Okay, whatever.

Also, I’ll grant them that since Vincent and Marcel compelled Elijah for his own good/per his own request, they maybe wouldn’t want to decompel him and/or they couldn’t have done it on such a short notice when seeing his being compelled is actually detrimental to everyone. Just let’s not forget that per universe canon people can be decompelled by whoever compelled them.)

Four: Rebekah and Kol haven’t existed since 5x02/3, either. No need to at least mention them by a line of them being worried about Hayley and Hope or anything, nope.

Five: I get that Vincent might not want to help, as he doesn’t, but why wasn’t at least Freya there? Maybe she was still on the way? Because you’re not telling me she wouldn’t think that maybe they would need a powerful witch to help? She broke up with Keelin for her family’s sake, FFS, and now she would just idly sit by when finally finding Hayley, not run to her aid? Please.

And, lastly, but not the least important reason why this doesn’t make sense: I’ve heard a lot of people saying the writers chose to kill off Hayley to free Klaus for Caroline, and I don’t know what the writers were thinking, but as much as killing one ‘love interest’ to make space for another is shitty, it’s even shittier in this case (if that had been their reasoning), because it was completely unnecessary.

Because, as per canon, Hayley and Klaus weren’t even a thing. Ship and fanon them as much as you want, but in canon Hayley and Klaus had a one-night stand resulting in pregnancy that had them gradually become friends and amazing co-parents, but Hayley was no obstacle whatsoever for Caroline.

So, Hayley died for nothing.

(I mean, her dying so she could free up the space for Caroline would’ve been terrible, but they don’t even get to have that excuse for killing her off. The fuck!)

Sure, she took Greta with her. But Greta could have been dealt with in a number of different ways, by Klaus himself, by Freya, by Marcel, or the three combined; by writing Elijah’s memory loss differently, or not at all, etc.… and if I can think of that in a couple of minutes, there was no reason the writers who are paid to spend time on it couldn’t have done it, except that they didn’t want to.

They just wanted to kill her off for ‘drama’ and they failed even at that because we’ve known about it for nearly a year now, so it was no shock at all. (It does still make me beyond angry, though.) And they knew it wouldn’t go over well and had the time to change it, but went on with it anyway.

Fuck that.

And if Elijah miraculously regains his memory by seeing Hayley die, as I think some spoilers said as well, it will just be that much worse and senseless.

I knew this season would be shitty as soon as they said JP was taking back the reigns and Narducci was leaving (not that the team under Narducci was flawless; killing off Camille could’ve been avoided as well; but at least they made a lot more sense most of the time.)

Anyway, I’ll probably hate-watch the season through, because I’m a masochist, and then I’ll take the few worthy bits and pieces (mostly just the premiere, TBH) and forget the rest of the crap even happened.

And afterwards I’ll probably re-watch the first four seasons – because those were one great show – and just imagine myself a happy ending for everyone (which I’ve already written, ha!)

[unfolded73]

Now That We’re Alone (1/1)

Captain Swan, rated Mature, ~3k

Here it is, the Middlemist field smut I’ve been promising. Thanks to @j-philly-b​ for giving it a read-through and yelling at me about the ending. This fic is dedicated to @caprelloidea​ because I think the way your Emma and Killian talk to each other in AWTN infected me when I wrote this. Also the feet thing.

“Now that we’re alone…” she murmurs, her face tilting up to him, the sunlight catching her hair and making it glow. He raises an eyebrow because her meaning seems clear, but he doesn’t want to presume. That is, until he feels a slight pull from her fingers on the lapel of his coat, and he lets himself be pulled, capturing her mouth in a sweet kiss.

Her lips are warm and taste of the watered wine that graces the tables of Camelot for every meal. She always feels a little too warm these days, since the darkness took her. Emma was usually chilly compared to him, her hands on his bare hips making him flinch and laugh into her mouth, her feet pressed against legs when they attempted to share his narrow bunk on the Jolly causing him to proclaim that no living human woman could possibly have such cold extremities.

He’d give anything to feel her chilled fingers and toes now.

Still, she seems almost at peace for the first time since they’ve found her here in this strange land, this kingdom that fills him with mistrust. Killian pushes aside his worries and kisses her back, angling his head and opening his mouth wider to sweep inside with his tongue, and Emma responds as her arms wrap around him, pulling him closer still.

“I want you,” she mutters, the words tripping across his cheek as she moves to kiss his jaw. “Can we?”

He raises an eyebrow again, surprised despite the fact that she’s never been shy with him about sex. But they’ve shared no physical intimacy beyond embraces and kisses since she became the Dark One, and he realizes that he’d started to think of her as a sort of invalid, her body shot through with an infection that they don’t yet know how to cure. Of course he still desires her, but he’s forced any prurient thoughts out of his mind, focusing on protecting her and keeping her safe, even from her own family if necessary.

Emma presses her body against his and he feels an answering tug in his groin, desire that’s been under the pressure of his constant worry suddenly released to sublimate in the air over this field of flowers. It bubbles up in him, making him equal parts giddy and desperate, his mouth pressing harder against her own, teeth behind lips making the kiss hard and forceful.

“Anything you want, my love,” he says, glancing down at the meadow they’re standing in, wondering if his coat will provide an adequate barrier between them and the ground, especially given the white gown and cloak she wears.

As if she can read his mind, Emma raises her hand. “I can conjure a blanket—”

“Don’t.” Killian frowns, his heartbeat accelerating with anxiety now instead of lust. “Darling, you mustn't use your magic needlessly. The darkness—”

“I can handle the darkness,” she says with a smile, and he fears what that might mean.

He whips his coat off and spreads it out of the grass. “See? I’ll protect you from any thorns that would dare to pierce your flawless skin.”

She rolls her eyes and huffs. “You’re so cheesy. Fine, no magic.” She kneels on his coat and draws him down with her. “That means you’re gonna have to get undressed all on your own, buddy.”

He feels the high grass give under his knees as he strokes the gossamer strands of her hair and tries to get his mind back on track. “A minor inconvenience.”

Emma drops the single flower she was holding, the one he picked for her, and unclasps her cloak, letting it fall to the ground. Her finely embroidered gown is gathered with two ornate clasps below her breasts, and his eyes can’t help but gravitate there, to the way the garment accentuates her curves. His hand looks rough and mean against the delicate threadwork as he drags his fingers down to the swell of her breast.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his eyes flicking up her her face, finding her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She can’t really be the Dark One, he thinks irrationally, even though he’s seen her name on the dagger. How can she be? She’s an impertinent angel, his Emma, not some immortal dark power. She’s the woman who likes unbearably sweet foods and who giggles uncontrollably when his lips find that one tiny spot just above where her thigh meets her pelvis. She’s the woman who descended the stairs toward him at the ball a few nights ago in a beautiful white gown, her hair festooned with flowers, and made him begin to seriously consider the idea of marrying her. These thoughts are his alone for now; it isn’t time to suggest such a thing, not with Emma’s fate as precarious as it is. But he has the beginnings of a plan, if they can all get back to Storybrooke in one piece, if Emma continues to be as open with her love for him as she’s now starting to be. For the first time, he’s entertaining the fantasy that she could become his wife someday.

Emma reaches for the buttons on his red vest, impatience showing on her face as she struggles to get the metal fastenings through the stiff leather. “How are you not boiling hot in this?” she asks.

He was, his sweat-damp shirt left stuck to his back as she eases the vest down and off. Emma shuffles closer, kissing him again. She makes her desire plain in the needy way her teeth scrape his lips, little moans escaping her as her mouth moves against his. Her hands slip around his waist, pulling his hips flush with hers. He pushes and she pulls and before he knows it he’s hovering over her. They sink down on his long leather coat, surrounded and somewhat shielded by the high grass and pink flowers on every side. He wonders how many flowers they are crushing underneath them in their desperation to be joined with each other.

His necklace hangs down, the tiny dagger brushing over the pale, delicate skin of Emma’s throat. The symbolism isn’t lost on him.

“I love you,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss her again. He braces himself on his hook and unfastens the clasps of Emma’s dress, exposing the thin shift she wears underneath. She materialized in this realm without her modern clothes, and he can easily make out the outline of her naked breast under her shift, no bra to impede his view. He brushes his thumb over her nipple slowly, back and forth, a small movement that makes her gasp and arch up, seeking more of his touch.

He wants to go slow, because he doesn’t know when the next opportunity to be together like this will be (or if there will be another at all), but her moans go straight to his cock and make him desperate to take her. He moves his hand down, rucking her dress up her legs as her thighs spread readily for him. He finds her bare underneath, slick with desire, and he plunges two fingers inside her before he can stop himself. Emma cries out, hips bearing down to draw him deeper.

Killian continues to stroke her inside and out, intending to bring her to climax quickly with his nimble fingers, but she stops him, flipping their positions with a supernatural strength that she shouldn’t possess.

Her hands work to efficiently unlace his trousers, and she inches them down enough to free his erection. She glances down his legs, as if debating the possibility of taking his boots off so that she can remove his pants entirely.

“Your feet are huge,” she says out of nowhere, apparently dismissing the idea of getting him any more naked as she straddles his thighs, her fist closing around his cock.

She strokes him, making his eyes slam shut as he groans, and he wonders why she’s chosen this moment to remark on the size of his feet. “So you’ve said before.”

“I know, it’s just… they’re really long. No one else ever mentioned it?”

He could tell her about how the sailors in Silver’s employ used to tease him for it, tripping him and sending him spilling to the hard deck of the ship, but that would probably be a mood-killer for both of them. “Milah used to say that if I got tired of piracy I could become a court jester.”

Emma laughs at that, a throaty chuckle, and maintains the rhythm of her hand over his sensitive flesh. He’s close to coming already; it’s been a long time since they’ve done this, a long time since he’s even taken himself in hand, too worried about Emma and her perpetually sleepless nights to take even a few minutes to pleasure himself. He reaches down and lifts her hand away.

“I don’t want to lose myself in your hand like a callow youth,” he explains.

“In my experience, you’ve never done any of this like a callow youth.” She crawls forward, her shift dress pooling around them, and he feels the wet press of her sex against his erection. It’s all he can do not to grip her hips and thrust inside, filling her completely in one quick motion. Instead he moves in shallow strokes, dragging his cock against her.

“I hide the way you unman me well, then,” he murmurs, gripping her thighs as they grind against each other. He wishes for a moment to see her completely naked on top of him, wishes for the sight of her long, blonde hair parting to reveal her bare breasts, longs for the sight of all of her wonderful skin. At the same time there is something about the contrast that arouses him: his Emma an ethereal goddess in white, sunlight haloing her head and almost blinding him, while hidden underneath her innocent shift is her forbidden center, dripping wet with unabashed desire.

“What do you mean, unman you? I don’t unman you.” She leans forward and nuzzles against his chest above the open throat of his shirt.

“I mean you make me weak, darling.” He sits up, his abdominal muscles flexing as he rises, arms going around her to hold her close. “Every time you share your body with me, I very nearly weep at how miraculous you are.” He kisses her neck gently, drawing his tongue along her skin as Emma continues to writhe in his lap.

She just snorts, her face scrunching up. “You do not.”

Their moods are mismatched, every ardent declaration on his part met with irreverence on hers, but he can’t help the words from spilling out anyway. “You can’t imagine the way my heart races with every touch we share, my love. One of these days I may die in your body’s embrace, but it will be a wonderful way to go.”

She groans, “Oh, shut up.” Emma rocks her pelvis, each slick stroke making their mingled breaths come faster. “I mean, I love you, but shut up.”

He chuckles, his laugh devolving into a moan as Emma adjusts the angle of her hips and the tip of his cock slips inside her. “Gods, more,” he pants. “Let me in, love, please.” She sinks down then, consuming him in the hot slide of her flesh.

Killian plants his hand and hook on the ground, giving himself the leverage to thrust up into her body as Emma continues to move her hips in a slow roll against him. They settle into an easy rhythm, no mismatch in this, just perfection — building pleasure threatening to rip him into tiny pieces and remake him again. He’s nothing but hers, a supplicant to her dark power. Perhaps this is some terribly long game the Dark One has been playing with him, taking from him everything he held dear, leaving him a hollow, revenge-fueled villain, and finally consuming him here in this meadow, body and soul. Taking him to the brink of paradise before exacting its final, terrible violence against him.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Killian banishes those morbid thoughts. He inhales, breathing in her scent, musk and sweat and some floral soap, proving to him that she’s just his Swan, not this dark creature he’s conjured. Just Emma, his love.

Focusing back on the motion of their bodies together, he moves to lift the gathers of her dress that are crumpled between them. “Do you need me to touch you?”

Emma shakes her head quickly, not breaking her rhythm. “No Killian, fuck, I’m gonna come,” she gasps out in a rush, and then her head snaps back, voice scraping out of her throat in relief as she does. He continues to thrust up with his hips, chasing her, and in spite of the chaos inside his mind, his body takes what it needs. His orgasm bursts outward — bright, pulsing pleasure that makes him shout toward the sky. He returns to himself slowly, gradually aware of the sweat on his brow, the slowing down of his galloping heart, the contemplative smile on Emma’s face.

“We should do this outside more often,” she says, looking around them at the empty field, pink flowers bobbing in the breeze in every direction.

“Might not be so pleasant in the middle of winter in Storybrooke,” he comments as Emma awkwardly disentangles herself from him. He sees her grimace as she stands up. “You all right, love?”

She blushes faintly. “Yeah, just, you know.” She gestures vaguely down at herself. “Sex is messy.”

He stands and pulls his trousers up, then picks up his coat to fumble in one of the pockets. “Here we are.” He extracts a handkerchief and holds it out for her.

Emma looks at it and wrinkles her nose. “So you’re just gonna walk around with a jizz-filled handkerchief in your pocket?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Eww.” She flicks her wrist, and he senses a crackle of magic in the air. “Never mind, I took care of it, and don’t scold me for using magic.” She pulls her dress back over her shift, fastening the clasps, and then retrieves her cloak from the ground, shaking it out to dislodge any errant flower petals. “These clothes, I swear to God. What I wouldn’t give for a pair of jeans. Or yoga pants. Right now I could raze Camelot to the ground for some yoga pants.”

He knows she’s joking, but he can’t find it in himself to smile along. He hands her his coat so that he can lace his pants back up, his hook and hand working together easily at a task it took him years to master after the loss of his hand. He puts his vest on, and once he has it buttoned, Emma passes over his coat.

“Hey,” she says, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. “Thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me for making love to you, darling.” He turns the coat in his hand and hook, noticing a crushed flower stuck to the back of it. He brushes at it, and the bruised petals flutter to the ground at his feet.

“Not just that, I mean thanks for all of this. The horseback ride, and… for not telling everyone about the voice in my head. Everything.”

“I would do anything for you, Emma, you must know that. Just tell me what you need, and if it’s within my power, it’s yours.”

She gives him a strange half-smile that isn’t quite a smile, and then her shoulders visibly shudder.

“What?” he asks her. “Are you cold?”

“No. I don’t know. Have you ever heard that saying, that someone walked over your grave? Do you say that in the Enchanted Forest?”

“Aye.” He pulls his coat on and holds an elbow out for Emma to take so that he can escort her back to the horse, as if they are simply out on an innocent walk. He wants to remember this afternoon for what it was on the surface, a romantic outing with his lover, a pleasurable tryst in an idyllic setting. But as the sun dips behind a cloud, he looks up at the sky and has to suppress a shudder of his own. There is a sense of foreboding in the air.

“I had a teacher that used to say a goose walked over your grave,” Emma says, oblivious to the dark turn of his mood, her hand sliding down to his. She threads their fingers together, swinging their hands. “I mean, why a goose?”

“Perhaps a swan would be more fitting in this case?” he says.

“A swan walked over my grave?” She shivers again. “Let’s stop talking about graves; I’m sorry I brought it up.” He sees a shadow return to her eyes, a flicker of darkness behind the green. As he helps her up onto the horse behind him, he wishes they could just ride and ride until they come to the coast, steal a ship and sail far away from the darkness that haunts her.

Emma’s arms wrap tight around his torso and he feels her press her head against his back. Clicking his tongue at the horse, they begin to canter back in the direction they came.

Turning, Killian takes one last look at the bobbing heads of pink flowers, their stems rustling in the breeze. He imagines suddenly that they are bowing their heads in sympathy, at the folly of people who think they can defeat darkness. They bend together and whisper their secrets, but he can’t understand the words.

He shudders.

[cometsheart]

Good Together Day 4: Comfort

Didn’t mean to post this right before the day ends but I guess that’s what happens when a fic ends up being like 3 times longer than you planned ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Shiloh slowly regained consciousness, eir mind fuzzy with pain. Why was ey in pain? “Mala-“ ey started, then jerked upright as memories came rushing back to em. That was a bad idea. Eir head was throbbing with pain but ey couldn’t care bring emself to care about that. The sight of Malachi, drained of Light and unable to move, slipping out of eir grasp and tumbling over the edge of the Cabal ship was playing over and over in eir mind. Ey forced emself to stand up, clutching eir side in agony. How do ordinary people live with pain for this long? Ghaul had kicked Shiloh off the ship not too long after ey’d dropped Malachi; ey had to have landed not too far from where he’d fallen.

Shiloh ripped off eir helmet – eir armor was in tatters after the fall and a broken helmet only served to impede eir vision. Ey needed as much help as ey could get to find someone as small as eir Ghost. If ey had survived the fall then Malachi surely had too, though he’d be very vulnerable given his catatonic state. Shiloh could hear Cabal troops passing through the area and shuddered. Ey didn’t want to think about what could happen if they came across a helpless Ghost.

Ey forced emself to take a step forward, then another, every breath ragged as ey stumbled through the ruins of the City. Shiloh didn’t know what ey was going to do – what ey even could do – once ey found Malachi. How could ey fight this? Ey had no Light, eir Ghost was essentially in a coma, and the only weapon ey had was a pistol with no ammo. One thing at a time, Shiloh. Just focus on avoiding Cabal patrols and finding Malachi. Everything else can wait.

Luckily ey didn’t have to wait long. “Guardian?” a familiar voice called. “This is awful – awful!” Ey felt relief wash over em. Malachi was alive, and by the sound of it had recovered from the initial shock of having his Light drained. Shiloh tried to walk a bit faster in the direction of his voice, but ey didn’t get very far, collapsing as ey felt a sharp pain in eir side.

The noise had caught Malachi’s attention and he cautiously floated a bit closer – then rushed forward as he caught a glimpse of the Guardian gasping in a puddle. “Shiloh,” he said as he began healing his beloved Guardian. “I thought I’d lost you,” they said in unison. Shiloh stood up and Malachi felt the familiar sensation of eir gloved hands cupping his shell. Ey rested eir forehead against him and he closed his eye, treasuring the feeling of safety and relief he felt at their reunion.

It didn’t last long, though, and he reluctantly pulled back. “It’s been two days since the initial attack,” he explained, his voice warped and filled with static. He forced himself to continue despite the stunned look on Shiloh’s face. “I can heal you, but I can’t resurrect you.” So please don’t die on me. “Not since…” he trailed off, hesitating. None of this was going to be easy to hear, but he had to say it.

“The Red Legion has taken the City, the Traveler, everything. The Light is gone and they’re killing powerless Guardians. They’re evacuating the planet and we’re on our own; we have to get out of here.” He knew Shiloh. Ey’d want to fight, to drive the Cabal out of their home. They’d faced countless enemies before, slain entities far more powerful than this Cabal leader, but they’d had the Light. They’d had the help of a fireteam. “I know you want to help, but we don’t have the Light anymore. You don’t even have a weapon!” he said, desperately trying to convince em to leave for safety. I can’t lose you.

“So it’s just like when you first rezzed me in the Cosmodrome, then?” Shiloh said, tearing eir eyes away from the sight of the captured Traveler to look at Malachi. Eir false bravado immediately fell away as ey registered just how bad a shape he was in. The parade shell that had been so shiny and new just a couple days – a couple days! – prior was battered, scratched, and covered in filth. Although it looked like Malachi was struggling to keep it around his core, ey could still read his body language well enough to tell that he was terrified.

Malachi saw Shiloh’s expression soften and ey leaned forward, pressing eir soft, warm lips against his shell. He floated closer, pressing himself further into the kiss. He’d been so terrified he’d never feel this again, and he wished they could stay like this forever. Eventually, Shiloh pulled away. “We survived then and we’ll survive now,” ey said firmly. “I think we still have some connection to the Traveler, even if it’s an extremely tenuous one.”

Ey pressed on before Malachi could protest. “I had…a vision of some sort while I was unconscious. Most of it didn’t make sense, but I saw a large shard of the Traveler in a forest by the shore. I have a feeling that’s where we need to go.” Ey saw him relax significantly. “I think you should stay fizzled; it’ll be easier if I only have to protect myself.” Malachi spun his shell in assent and his physical form vanished with a shower of sparks.

Shiloh felt the familiar warmth of his Light intertwining with eir own as ey made eir way to the outskirts of the City. And then they were gone.

***

They’d been traveling for a couple days, cautiously picking their way through the mountains, when they came across the camp. There were a dozen or so bodies strewn across the site – the bodies of other Guardians. “These Guardians…they had no chance without their powers.” Malachi said as Shiloh grimly searched them for anything ey could use. “That could be us. We need to be very careful.” “I know,” Shiloh said softly.

They found some sorely needed ammo and a functional submachine gun, and ey replaced the parade armor ey’d been wearing with some of the least damaged gear from the dead Guardians. None of these capes are any good, Shiloh thought sourly. The thought bothered em; there were much more important things to focus on than fashion.

They’d barely set foot outside the camp when the War Beasts attacked. Malachi tensed, prepared to heal the slightest scratch at any second. It was almost sad; normally Shiloh would just toss a grenade towards the charging pack and let them blow themselves up, but without grenades ey had to keep eir distance. Ey was constantly retreating and taking careful shots at the beasts charging at em. They couldn’t afford to waste any ammo.

When the last one had fallen, they decided to stay near the campsite for the night. Shiloh went to the smoldering remains of the fire started by the fallen Guardians and coaxed it back to life. Ey sat and stared into it quietly for a while. Malachi cautiously materialized in front of em. He didn’t have to have a mental connection with his Guardian to know that something was troubling em-well, that something new was troubling em. “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

Shiloh continued to stare into the fire for a while, watching as sparks lazily drifted upwards before vanishing. “After everything that’s happened-the Speaker and the Traveler being captured, the fall of the City and the Tower, us losing our Light-all of this and the only thing I can think about is how much I miss my old cloak.” Cloak of the Exodus. Ey sighed and stared at the ground, drawing the Dead Orbit symbol in the dirt.

Did the Cabal wipe out their fleet? Or did their strategy of scattering humanity across the cosmos save thousands of lives that would have otherwise been in the City at the time of the attack? Shiloh didn’t know, and wondered if ey ever would. Malachi sensed eir distress and floated a bit closer.

“I’ve seen this before,” he said quietly. Shiloh looked up, suddenly reminded that he was hundreds of years old. He’d lived through the Dark Age, the Battles of the Six Fronts and the Twilight Gaps, and so much else. “Some people can’t process a tragedy of this scale, so instead they focus their grief on one, concrete thing that they lost, even if it was really minor.” He turned to make eye contact with em. “Besides,” he said, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “It was a really nice cloak.” Shiloh gave him a slight smile. “Thanks,” ey said.

Ey was tired. Tired from all the walking, tired from the fighting, tired of all the horrible things that kept happening. Shiloh went over to a bedroll and lay down. “Good night Malachi, I love you,” ey said as ey closed eir eyes. Ghosts don’t sleep, so Malachi would be watching for any dangers as ey slept. “I love you too, Shiloh,” he said as ey dozed off.

***

Shiloh stared at the gap in front of them. Ey had never been good at jumping. Even with the abilities of the Light and the assistance of some snazzy boots, ey’d always managed to be just short, plummeting to eir death more times than ey cared to admit. They weren’t too far off the ground and ey didn’t think a fall from this height would be lethal, but ey really didn’t want to test that. Shiloh took a deep breath. There was nothing to do but go for it, so ey leaped-

Shiloh came back to consciousness, sitting up with a groan. Damnit. At least I’m not dead. “Hey, you. You’re finally awake.” Ey looked up, startled by the unfamiliar voice and Malachi popped into existence beside em. Someone ey didn’t recognize was standing over em, their arm outstretched in an offer to help em off the ground. Shiloh took their hand and they pulled em to eir feet.

“The name’s Hawthorne. And this-”  she gestured to a falcon circling overhead, which came down to perch on her arm. “-is Louis.” Shiloh recognized that falcon; they’d seen it several times as they’d been walking through the mountain and ey vaguely wondered if it had been trying to lead them here. “That falcon…it belongs to you?” Malachi asked. He was clearly having similar thoughts. Hawthorne smiled. “Best pilot we got. What about you? Fit to fly?” Shiloh nodded, distracted by the sight of several people behind her loading supplies onto ships.

An explosion rang through the mountains. “And that’s our cue. Time to go, people!” She picked up a shotgun. “Probably gonna need one of these, too,” she said, tossing it to Shiloh. “Time to make yourself useful, “Guardian.”” Ey looked at Malachi, wondering what was up with her tone, but ey didn’t have much time to think about it. “All right people, spin ‘em up! Got a long flight ahead of us!”

***

They were flying over a forest with Hawthorne’s group when her voice rang out over their comms. “Coming up on the European dead Zone.” They pierced through the clouds and Shiloh gasped as a large, white shape came into view. “Do you recognize it?” Malachi asked. Shiloh nodded. “That’s where we’re supposed to go.” “That thing?” Hawthorne interjected. “They call it the Shard of the Traveler. I call it: “Not a place you want to go poking around.”” They continued flying in silence for a while longer and finally a clearing with several buildings came into view. “This here’s the Farm; it’s gonna be our new home for a while.” Hawthorne said.

***

Shiloh stood in front of the Shard, panting. Ey’d fought through a lot of Fallen to reach this thing, and ey wasn’t entirely sure they were all gone. They were alone for the moment, though, and Malachi had materialized by em. He flew closer to a glowing crack in the Shard, entranced. “Do you feel it?” he asked. Ey could, though by the awe in his voice Shiloh guessed that his experience was much stronger. His voice was also no longer riddled with static, ey realized. It seemed that just being this close to it was already having a positive effect on them.

The crack began to shoot out Light and Malachi expanded his field to absorb it, glowing a brilliant blueish-white as the Shard restored him. Seconds later, Shiloh felt emself being lifted off the ground as the Malachi channeled the Light through to em. It felt amazing. Gradually, the Shard stopped glowing and ey was lowered to the ground.

The Light felt different, somehow, but ey finally felt whole again. Shiloh took off eir helmet-ey couldn’t stop grinning. Malachi was clearly ecstatic as well, flying circles around em before finally stopping in front of eir face and pressing himself against eir lips. Ey kissed him back, reveling in their shared joy.

Their celebration didn’t last long, however, as the sounds of approaching Fallen filled the glen. Shiloh put eir helmet back on and pulled out a knife, grinning again as the familiar static of Arc energy coursed through em and crackled onto eir knife. Malachi fizzled and his voice filled eir comms: “Let’s light ‘em up.”

[beatrice-otter]

Past Lives, Chapter 9/?

On AO3 Chapter 1 on Dreamwidth

Chapter Nine

The armor … took some doing.

"I'm sorry, we don't have the equipment to fabricate or modify armor here, Sergeant," said the armorer, a Specialist named Tripwire. "And even if we did, I wouldn't know how to use it. Clone armor comes standard, and it fits like a glove because our bodies are all the same." The armory was a tent with one of its sides rolled up, situated next to the mess tent at the center of camp, just where it would have been in a First Order camp. Easy to get to, no matter where you were, if there was an unexpected need to rearm or change weapons load.

"But what about your Jedi?" Finn asked. "They don't have full armor, but they've at least got something. Or Kenobi and Skywalker do, at any rate."

"The Jedi get their armor from the Temple, not from me," Tripwire said. "Not that they wear much of it."

"And what happens if you gain weight? Or lose it, on a long campaign with fewer supplies?" Finn asked. "What happens if you get switched to a different job and your muscle configuration changes because your activity profile does?" Basic Stormtrooper conditioning was always the same, of course, but many specialties had additional special training or duties, and that always affected things.

Tripwire and Kano exchanged glances. "We're all fed the same thing, so any changes tend to be battalion-wide," Tripwire said.

"But if you can't modify the armor, all that means is that everyone's armor fits wrong," Finn pointed out.

"And while you can get food on the black market special, or sometimes when we're on a planet with markets and people are willing to trade with us, they strongly discourage anyone from eating enough to alter your functioning to any degree."

"Fair enough," Finn said; one of the happinesses he hadn't anticipated about leaving the First Order was getting to choose what he ate and when he ate it. "But you can't tell me that ARC troopers and regular troopers have the same musculature, much less pilots and ARC troopers."

"So?" Kano said.

"You're telling me that you still wear the same armor?" Finn demanded. "Doesn't it chafe?"

"Yeah, but armor isn't supposed to be comfortable," Tripwire said. "And that's part of the point of mass-produced soldiers. You can mass-produce the gear, too, and do you think the bean-counters on Coruscant care if it chafes a bit?"

Finn shook his head. "But it impedes efficiency. Oh, well, it’s not like I’m going to be trying to fight in it anyway.”

“If you have to, we’re all screwed,” Kano said.

“The bodysuit is going to be the real problem,” Tripwire said. “It doesn’t have a lot of give in it … and you’re a full two centimeters taller than a brother. It’d be easier if you were two centimeters shorter, instead.”

“The bodysuit is crawling up my ass,” Finn said, shifting uncomfortably. And it was chafing his dick. Two centimeters didn’t sound like much, but it was the difference between fitting perfectly and … not.

“Could we just cut it in half so it’s pants and a shirt?” Jesse asked. “It’d kill the temperature controls and some of the blaster protection, but it’s pretty temperate here and if he’s not going to be fighting …”

"If we need temperature controls, or are going to be in combat, I can change bodysuits," Finn said.

“Here’s the armor,” Tripwire said, handing over a standard armor crate, just like the ones Finn had used all his life before defecting. He felt a lump in his throat, and he couldn’t tell whether it was positive or negative.

“And here’s the paint and brushes,” Tripwire continued, bringing out a container and a package.

“What?” Finn asked.

“Say, what’s your design, anyway?” Jesse asked.

“My what?”

“Your design,” Tripwire said. “Your paint? Armor-tat? Second face?”

“You know, the stuff you paint on your armor to show who’s in it?” Jesse said.

“Any sign of individuality got punished,” Finn said. “If they knew you had any designator other than a serial number, they would punish you for using it. We were only allowed to take off the buckets to eat, sleep, bathe, and for medical purposes.”

Jesse looked more horrified than he had when Finn had told them about the fall of the Republic. Tripwire sat down slowly on the armor crate behind him. It was, Finn realized, the heart of the difference between the Old Republic's clones and the First Order's troopers. Both were mass-produced and conditioned for battle, both were disposable in the service of their nations, both were designed to be interchangeable.

But for the Clone Troopers, that uniformity had limits. As long as they could fight interchangeably, their thoughts could be as individual as they wanted … and so could their armor. That was … he needed to think about that.

“Well,” Tripwire said, with a determined voice, “here you can put whatever you want on your armor.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” Finn said. “Can’t you just … do something apropriate? Ordinary? The whole point is to blend in, so, you guys know more about what type of paint would blend in than I do.”

“Of course not!” Jesse said, voice rising in horror. “It’s your armor. Your paint! Your second face! Kriff, Finn, you just—you just don’t mess with another man’s paint!”

“So, I’ll think about it, figure something out,” Finn said. “Once I get a design, can one of you paint it? I don’t know how to paint.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know how?” Tripwire said. “It’s just regular paint. I know curved surfaces and plastoid take a little bit of getting used to, but it’s not that bad.”

“I’ve never painted anything before.”

“Well, it’s not that different than drawing, then. Just draw the outlines and fill them in.”

“I’ve never drawn anything before, either.”

There was a silence, for a bit, as the two clones digested that, faces drawn. Finn stood there awkwardly, not sure why they were so profoundly shocked by this. He got why never being allowed to take your armor off was horrifying; even he had known it was bad, back when he’d never had any experiences outside of the First Order. And the Resistance members, the few he’d talked about it with, they’d all agreed with him. But none of them had ever even mentioned anything about art. None of them really made art, that he knew of. But to Tripwire and Jesse, no artistic experience was unthinkable.

“Tempera used to be part of the training cadre, he’d know how to teach art,” Jesse said at last.

“All I’ve got is paint and markers for the armor,” Tripwire replied, “but I think the quartermaster has more. I KNOW he’s got tablets and styluses that are fitted with a basic drawing program.”

“Okay,” Finn said slowly. Looks like he was getting art lessons. It wasn’t very practical, but on the other hand, what else was he going to do while they waited? It’s not like they could send him out on missions, the clones had the regular garrison duties taken care of, and there were only so many hours per day that he could debrief.

The first thing they had done, once reaching Coruscant, was to give Bail every file they had about the contract that had produced the clone army.

"That is all that you know?" Bail asked incredulously, looking over the reports. "I've always known there was more to the story than the bare-bones account that the Senate was told, but I assumed you knew it and just didn't want to share for some reason. Classified for the war effort, possibly. But you never investigated it at all, did you, once you'd discovered it. A mysterious army was dropped in your lap just as war breaks out, and you never asked any questions."

"The Force moves in mysterious ways," Master Windu said stiffly, "and we had rather more immediate problems at the time. You yourself voted for the bill that gave the Jedi authority over the clone army, and turned us into officers. Since then, we have had very little to spare for investigative work."

"Yes, but I assumed I could trust your competence," Bail said, matching his tone. "From this, that doesn't seem to have been the case."

"Oversight is the Senate's responsibility," Master Windu replied. "Even if it had been classified, you had a right to ask—either in person or on the Senate floor—to see that the investigation had been done, even if you were not cleared to see the results. And what do you think would have happened, if we had refused to take command of the troops until the investigation was complete? Or if we had admitted publicly that one of our members had gone rogue and ordered this without our knowledge or wish? Or diverted significant attention from the war to continuing the investigation? You're the Senator, you tell me."

Bail sat back, stroking his beard. He hated to admit it, but Windu had a point. After Geonosis, the whole Republic had been caught up in war fever, so focused on the need to punish the Separatists that any delay or foot-dragging was seen as treason. And that was just public opinion; if Finn was correct, and Palpatine was a traitor bent on destroying the Jedi, he would certainly have been able to use any reluctance to his advantage. "So you chose expediency and political considerations over doing your job fully."

"Yes," Windu said. "And how many times, Senator, have you and your colleagues done the same?"

Bail nodded unwillingly.

"In any case, what's done is done," Windu said. "Recriminations at this stage will get us nowhere. We need proof of Palpatine's treason—or loyalty—and we need to make contingency plans."

"What did you have in mind?" Bail asked.

Ahsoka stepped off her ship and locked it, clasping her cloak firmly against the wind. The problem with going incognito on her own was that anyone who knew anything about Togruta could see that she wasn't fully mature yet. As a Jedi, she had become a legal adult when she was apprenticed. Young, and still needing supervision as far as the Jedi were concerned, but an adult as far as anybody else was concerned.

Undercover, without Jedi status, nobody who knew what an adult Togruta looked like would believe she was one. Her montrals were too small and stubby.

She hoped that as long as she kept her cloak up, nobody would notice. Or maybe mistake her for an adult of another species.

Ship locked and docking fees paid, she got herself a room for the night and began looking up medical supply companies. There should be a fair number—this planet was known in the region for its medical supply companies—and hopefully she'd find one she could order from over the holonet and have it delivered to her ship, with no need to talk to a sentient being who might remark on her age.

She couldn't wait for her montrals to get their full growth. Missions like this would be so much easier.

"The first step," Tempera said, "is just to get you used to creating." They were sitting side-by-side at a table, thankfully with no one else in the tent with them.

Finn was getting really tired of being stared at. He'd been stared at when he first joined the Resistance; it wasn't like they got defectors from the First Empire every day. But they'd all been busy, and nothing he could tell them about the First Order and how it treated Stormptroopers was a surprise to them, not really, and if First Order defectors were rare it wasn't as if they'd never happened.

Time travel made him absolutely unique, and most of what he'd told people about his life experiences was a horrifying shock, and they didn't have much to do until Commander Tano returned with the specialized equipment and droids needed for neurosurgery. They had a lot of time to stare at him. Tempera hadn't, so far; Jesse had talked to him about art lessons out of Finn's presence, and Tempera had been nothing but matter-of-fact since he'd shown up. It was a nice change.

Finn sighed and turned his attention to the functions of the tablet Tempera was showing him, how he could produce lines of different thicknesses and colors, how he could erase what he didn't like, and so on.

"Good," Tempera said, after quizzing Finn to make sure he remembered what he'd been shown. "Now draw whatever you want to draw. Scribbles and doodles and random stuff is fine, don't worry about whether it's good or not. You don't have to show it to me if you don't want to." He turned to his own tablet and began … doing something on it.

Finn pondered the instructions for a bit. "Tempera?" he said. He had an awful feeling this was going to start another round of horrified stares.

"Yes, Finn?" Tempera said, looking up from his tablet.

"What's 'scribbles and doodles'?"

[a-dracon]

To Allure and Impede

SUMMARY: Marvin Lockens was fifteen when he was brought under Jameson Jackson’s wing and first started learning how to control and use his magic. Since then, he’s met Henrik Schneeplestein, the Castle’s doctor and his father figure, Chase Brody, the Castle’s Third in Command and best archer around, Jackie Bullmon, the Second in Command and Head Guard who’s always wearing red, and Sean McLoughlin, the King Himself, as well as various others. Yet, despite being with them for more than four years and proving to be a skilled mage, they all still treated him like the shy child they first met. And he was tired of it. What happens when he meets a stranger in the woods, who gives him cards to hand out and disappears into the shadows? What happens when he hides it from everyone? What happens at the Masquerade?

W̙͍̠̿̄͘h̬̲͇̻͎̍a̖̣͇̯͌̈͆ͯ̒͊̿t͇̗̖͕̻̽̄̑ ͚̼̜̪̥͎ͪͬ͊ͦͫ̉̚H̻̯͈͎͇͎͇ͣͣ͛͛ͣ̇ã̠̼̝̖̫̌̽ͯ̍̑p̝̌̐̿̔ͩͤṗ̷̻̳ͤ̂͋ͬ̋͒e̫̪̣̽̐ń͓͚̞͈̲̯͡s̶̀̐͋͂̈?̥̖͊͘

Chapter One Word count: 1532 Warnings: Manipulation, Anti, mild swearing A/N: Thank you to both my beta readers @jackjames-exe and @lin-apples for giving me feedback on this! I was listening to songs in my music playlist, and Ready as Ill Ever Be decided to pop up. I got hit by a bus called inspiration, made a basic character info sheet a couple nights ago and even did a bit of art. Next thing you know, bam over four pages of words and two beta readers to give feedback. So, thanks for reading!

Also, ill be tagging this TAI AU, and ill also make a tag list for those who are interested! Now, ONTO THE STORY!

next

"Why the hell can't I transfer words from my head to my mouth?!"

Marvin Lockens groaned, his checkered mask shifting slightly as he let his face fall into the spellbook. "I know magic Jamie, why can't I make this easier?" A few feet away, the mute Castle Mage seemed to chuckle, setting his own spellbook on the desk. 'That would be called cheating' he signed. "The world giving me magic and not a way to control it immediately is also cheating yet here we are," Marvin shot back, green orbs looking at brown. 'Thats......fair, I suppose.' Jameson signed back, taking a moment to think. 'But even if there were a method of making spell learning easier, you would have to learn that as well. ' "So basically, there's no winning." 'Winning would be learning the spell, Marvin.' He paused briefly to flick the checkered feline mask that covered half of Marvin's face. 'For now, take a break. I do believe Chase had something to show you.' His eyes seemed to light up. "Alright! So I'll see you later, Jamie?" 'Jameson to you, apprentice. But yes, I do want to see you after dinner.' "Gotcha!" Marvin grinned, shooting up from his desk . He waved goodbye to his magic instructor, making sure to grab his cloak on the way out. Jameson only smiled and watched his apprentice run off. Despite being 19 already, the mage in training still was as adventurous as if he was the 15 year old found accidentally burning a tree. Not much seemed to change, save for his way of talking around them and his control over magic. To this day, he was still very, very grateful for finding him before anyone else did. If anyone found him and knew what he was capable of, well, it would end in a war gone very, very wrong. Not that he needed to know. Not yet, at least. He sighed, picking up the spellbook forgotten on Marvin's desk. No, there was plenty of time before it was necessary to tell him, he thought as he bookmarked and reahelved the leather book.

Chase strode through the halls, looking out the tall windows. Four years ago and he would have stopped to admire the view. Well, that or get lost in the maze of a castle. Then again, he hadn't been in any other castle, so who's to say this wasn't normal castle floor plans? He blinked, looking away from the window when the sound of footsteps came closer. "Oh hey Jackie!" He greeted the Head Guard. "Do you know where Chase went? Jamie said he had something to show me." Jamie shrugged, readjusting the two books he was currently carrying. "I think he mentioned something about heading to the gate. The one that leads to the westward forest?" "Thanks Jackie! See you later!" "No problem Marv! Don't get into too much trouble! Oh, is Jamie in his room or his office?" "Office!" He called back, jogging off in the direction of the gate.

"Chase!" Marvin called, stopping briefly to catch his breath. "Jamie said you wanted to see me?" "Yeup!" The slightly older guard grinned, hopping down from the chestnut mare he had just been riding. "I was out doing a bit of patrol work earlier, and found something really weird and more your department than mine. Figured I should show you and get your input about it. I saddled up Sal for you already, shes in her stall." "Thanks, but how'd you know I'd be able to come with you and not stuck studying my spells?" He questioned, walking with chase the short distance to the stables. "I didn't. That's why she's still in her stall."

"Sooo.....what are we lookin for?" Tjey were both doing a simple trot, Chase leading on his mare Kit while Marvil followed on his own paint. "Well, I saw footprints earlier, " He glanced back at the apprentice. "Would've dismissed it, with this being a forest and all, but they seemed like they were coming from the castle. And since i know none of the staff like to go in these woods, I went to check em out. After a while, I reached a clearing and poof, they dissappear right smack in the middle." "So?" Marvin tilted his head a bit. "Couldn't they have just stepped on something, like a stone, to hide their footprints? Or really dry ground?" Chase shook his head. "Nope. There were stones around, but no footprints after that. And the ground was all muddy too, from yesterday's rain. Speaking of stones, they were really weird." "Weird how?" "laying ring around the rosy weird. Literally. They were in a ring." Chase deadpanned. He paused momentarily, looking around and shifting directions slightly before continuing his trot. "And you went to me instead of Jamie because...?" "I have less of a chance feeling like I dissapointed you than Jameson if it's actually just nothing. That and i still don't completely understand sign." He shrugged. "Chase Brody: Most skilled marksman, can shoot down anything a mile away...never understanding sign." Marvin teased, speaking in a stereotypical murder mystery tv show host voice. "Hey, I just dont want to say fuck you instead of hello to someone in sign!" Chase replied, going along with the tease as he spoke overdramatically. "I'm pretty sure it's practically impossible to confuse a wave and flipping the bird Chase" " Well excuuuuse me princess!"

"Is this it?" Marvin looked around, taking in the view. It seemed peaceful enough, about an acre of slightly muddy grass. A few feet away, footprints were left in the mud that moved towards the middle of the clearing. It ended abruptly at a ring of almost completely white stones, the last pair of footprints in the middle of the ring. After that, there were none. No signs of backtracking either. "Yeah. Weird, isn't it?" Chase commented, not bothering to dismount. He wasn't the mage, afterall. "Definitely. But never fear. Marvin the magnificent shall figure this out!" He exclaimed, overdramatically dismounting his horse. "Yeah yeah, " Chase snickered, doing the best mock bow he could from the back of a horse. "The floor is yours, Marvin the Magnificent." Marvin snorted, walking closer to the odd ring. He shut his eyes, and let himself sink into his magic, let himself reach out- "Wha - Hey! Easy girl, easy! Sal, come back!" A distressed Chase called out. Marvin looked back at the mares, watching his run off after being spooked by something. Chase pulled on the reins of his own, attempting to calm her a bit while also turning to go after Marvin's. "Don't worry, I'll go get her! You work your magic! " he called, galloping after the paint that ran into the woods. Marvin blinked, watching them for a moment before shaking his head. Clear thoughts, afterall. Focus. Sink into his magic. Let himself be surrounded. Let himself be aware of it all around him. Let himself feel for the traces of magic around the st- His thoughts were cut off as a sharp cry escaped his lips. Back colliding and sliding across mud and wet grass, Marvin seemed to be pulled into the shadows of the woods. The Mage scrambled to his feet, hand moving to grip the hilt of the blade that was always by his side. Right now, he was just dragged by something and could sew absolutely nothing but darkness. "they don't appreciate you, do they~?" "What...who...of course they do! Who's out there!?" He looked around wildly, trying to find the source of the scratchy voice. "You know they see you as a child." "No they don't! shut up and show yourself!" Marvin cried out, unsheathing his sword. "They don't see you as someone who they can really depend on." "Of course they do! They're my friends!" Though, he wasn't entirely sure. His grip faltered slightly. "Are they? Or are they only entertaining you? You know how he is afterall..." "Shut up! You're wrong!" Tears pricked the corner of his eyes, his stance becoming stiff and sloppy. "No one sees what you can do. What you can accomplish." Green eyes peered at him through the darkness. They looked at him, curious. "I can make them see the power you hold." "...really....?" Marvin lowered his sword, blinking away tears. "Really. Come now, I've been honest this far. Put a little trust in someone." The eyes disappeared, and Marvin felt clawed hands wrap around his shoulders, someone leaning onto their back. "....what do i have to do...?" Eyes narrowed, Marvin still kept his guard slightly up. It was a stranger, afterall. But the offer that was given....it was too intriguing. "Simple. Show your magic to the town. Your true magic, " the person purred, slipping a small deck of cards into his hand. "The townsfolk already love you for your false tricks. But, try using these. They are, of course, real magic, made to assist with every card trick in the book. And let each person have a card until there are no more. Let them have something to remember your name by~" One clawed finger continued tapping the deck.

"Will you accept~?"

[a-dracon]

To Allure and Impede

SUMMARY: Marvin Lockens was fifteen when he was brought under Jameson Jackson’s wing and first started learning how to control and use his magic. Since then, he’s met Henrik Schneeplestein, the Castle’s doctor and his father figure, Chase Brody, the Castle’s Third in Command and best archer around, Jackie Bullmon, the Second in Command and Head Guard who’s always wearing red, and Sean McLoughlin, the King Himself, as well as various others. Yet, despite being with them for more than four years and proving to be a skilled mage, they all still treated him like the shy child they first met. And he was tired of it. What happens when he meets a stranger in the woods, who gives him cards to hand out and disappears into the shadows? What happens when he hides it from everyone? What happens at the Masquerade?

W̙͍̠̿̄͘h̬̲͇̻͎̍a̖̣͇̯͌̈͆ͯ̒͊̿t͇̗̖͕̻̽̄̑ ͚̼̜̪̥͎ͪͬ͊ͦͫ̉̚H̻̯͈͎͇͎͇ͣͣ͛͛ͣ̇ã̠̼̝̖̫̌̽ͯ̍̑p̝̌̐̿̔ͩͤṗ̷̻̳ͤ̂͋ͬ̋͒e̫̪̣̽̐ń͓͚̞͈̲̯͡s̶̀̐͋͂̈?̥̖͊͘

Chapter 2

Word count: 1587

Warnings: nostalgia, lies, high anxiety levels Whoop, chapter two is up and runnin! I had a bit of fun, mainly with the reminiscing part. Again, thank you to my beta readers, @lin-apples and @jackjames-exe . I dunno what else to say, except im not really sorry for the ending.

previous // next

"Marv, there you are! I got Sal and came back only to find you gone." Chase commented, approaching him with reins in each hand. He paused, examining the ruffled apprentice. "....what...happened to you? You're covered in mud and theres a buncha grass on your back. "

Marvin blinked, looking around. "What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Nothing to worry about!" "....you sure?" Chhase looked at him suspiciously, handing him the reins to Sal. "Yeah, im perfectly alright, " Marvin replied, an attempt to brush off any concern. "I just thought I sensed something, but all it was is older magic. Like, weeks old, and I was barely able to sense it." Chase crossed his arms, sending him a blank look. "That doesn't explain the mud. " "....may or may not have fallen down a ditch...." Marvin looked away sheepishly as the guard began to laugh. Immediately the tips of his ears were turned pink. " Hey, its not funny!" He attempted to defend himself. "I can't really see when im looking for traces, my eyes have to be shut!" "Sure, sure. Whatever you say, " Chase waved his hand, yet still qore a smug grin on his face. "Now come on. I trust that you're alright, but it would be best if you got checked on. So go see Henrik after you change, okay?" "Fiiine" Marvin rolled his eyes, mounting his paint. He readjusted his cloak a bit once in a while as they rode home, chattering the entire ride home. Jokes were occasionally made, all the qay to the gate. Chase never noticed the new deck of cards on the sheath of his sword.

"Ah, Marvin! Good to see you, " Henrik Schneeplestein commented, looking up from the bandages that were currently being reorganized. "Sit, sit! What can I do for you?" "Hey doc, " Marvin commented, having pit on fresh clothes after washing off. "Chase sent me." Henrik huffed. "Why? Did zhe lad get stuck in something again? I warned him to not go down zhe laundry chutes!" He snorted, hopping onto the stool by the Castle medic. "As funny as that would be, no. Actually, i was out with him earlier and may or may not have fallen down a ditch..." "If I had a coin every time one of you fell down into something in zhe woods." Henrik rolled his eyes. "Is your ankle sprained or anything?" He set the box of bandages to the side and turned to face the apprentice. He ahook his head. "No, I feel fine. But Chase still wanted me to get an ok from you." "Considering how many falls he takes, I should be less surprised." Henrik stepped closer, examining a few joints and liftingthe back of Marvin's shirt to check for any bruising or scratches. All the while, the patient seemed unusually quiet. "...Is something zhe matter, Marvin? " Marvin blinked. "Hm? No, why do you ask?" "Well, its as if something is on your mind. Like something is concerning you." He thought for a moment. "Nothing comes to mind at the moment Doc. But I'll let you know if it ever changes." Henrik was hesitant to let him go so easily. If something was actually bugging him, then they should talk, right? "....Alright. But feel free to come and talk to zhe good doctor if ypu ever need to!" "Soooooo any other doctor. Got it." "I'll have you know I am a 100% qualified real doctor!" "I know, I know! Im kidding around Henrik." "Hmpf" He continued his examination , having him stand, walk around, hop, and do a couple of other basic actions to make sure he was alright and not feeling any pain. "Well, as far as I can tell, you seem to be physically alright. " "Thanks doc!" Marvin stretched, feeling a satisfying pop in his back. He walked over to the door, but paused. "....hey Henrik...?" -Hm?" The doctor had turned back to his work, reorganizing a few scattered papers on his desk. ".....nothing, nevermind, " he shook his head. Best not to disrupt someone busy, afterall. "See you at dinner?" "See you at dinner, Marvin." He replied, smiling behind the surgical mask he always wore.

Marvin inhaled, wandering the halls of the castle aimlessly. He knew where he was, since he had spent years already wandering the many rooms the stone building held. He knew where to turn to reach the ballroom, the dining room, the foyer, the library, as well as everyone's room. The Apprentice paused, looking up at a stained glass window. It was tall, showing a dark and a light figure. Solaris and Lunairis. The sun and the moon. As the hall continued to stretch further and further, the story of the creation of life continued being told. He took a few steps back, leaning against the walls. Eyes shut, head tilted up, and overall simply just basking in the memories and the nostalgia. Marvin chuckled to himself. When he first came here, he would always come back to this hall, always seeming to read the story on the windows just a little bit different each time. And each time, he could spend hours on end just sitting in this hall. What did he call it again? Hall of histories? Histories indeed. It not only reminded him of the history of the land, but his own history as well. His first spell took place here. He was continuously muttering the words, making sure he got them right. Next thing he knew, an entire suit of armor had toppled over. Marvin laughed, remembering how he ran away and hid for hours. The old grandfather clock chimed. Five o'clock. Almost time for dinner. With a sigh, he opened his eyes and continued his wandering. The difference now, though, was that his aim was for his own room.

"Hey teach!" Marvin opened the door to Jameson's office, smiling at his instructor and his sovereign. One arm cradled a book, the other held the door open. 'Hello Marvin,' Jameson signed, a small smile on his lips "Hey Marv!" Sean waved, currently sitting in the seat that was usually reserved for the mute mage. "Ohey Sean!" Marvin chimed, walking in with a pep to his steps. He set his book down on his chair, opting to sit on his desk instead. "Whatchu two doing?" 'Nothing much.' He signed, turning slightly so both Sean and Marvin could see and understand his sign language. 'Just discussing the Ball in a few days.' "The one for Mark's birthday? " Marvin asked, head slightly tilting. "Yeah, " Sean nodded. "Him and a few of his and my court members should be arriving over the next couple of days. They'll all be attending." "Is Felix coming, and will he be coming early?" He asked. Sean chuckled. "If I didn't invite him he'd probably send us a crate full of ducks again. And you know him. He's always early so he has a say in the decor. " "That sounds about right," Marvin shrugged. "And I do not have to attend the masquerade, right?" He winced slightly. "About that......no, you have to attend the masquerade." "What!" He squawked. "Why!? I've never had to attend before!" 'Because you're the next court mage. As such, you have to attend all functions,' Jameson signed calmly, not even flinching at the outburst. He had gotten used to it after teaching him for so long, afterall. "He's not wrong, Marv. We've given you the freedom to decide for the past four years." Sean spoke up, trying to play off the jump that was caused by Marvin's sudden outburst. "Jamie is already attending! Why do I have to go too?!" He protested. No, he didnt want this. 'We already told you.' Jamie signed. " That doesnt explain shit! It's my life, i shouldn't have to go if I don't want to!" "Marv, please just ca-" Sean was cut off by a sudden slam on the desk. Jameson had slammed the book that was previously in between his arm and side onto the wood desk loudly. He quickly began signing, even somehow adding a very angry tone to it. 'Marvin, listen to me! For the past four years we have given yo freedom and choice for every event bevause you were a child. But now its time to grow up. You aren't the child on the streets anymore so quit acting like it!' Marvin blinked. He could feel the tears building up, breathing becoming slightly more difficult. ".......you can't make me go if you can't find me. " Suddenly he was running, slamming the door open. He didn't care where to. He just needed out. He needed space. Safety. He needed to get away. He couldn't see. He could barely feel himself run into someone. Couldn't hear the shouts of alarm, the footsteps behind him. He didnt know how, but he reached his room. Yet, Marvin still didn't feel the freesom, the space he craved. The room was too small, too confining. He needed out. So, the young mage grabbed a bag, a clean and veey basic cloak, as well as a different, more basic mask. Marvin threw open the balcony doors, ignoring the feverent knocking at his door, the shouts to get his attention. He was already climbing down the vines that grew onto the walls of the stone. By the time someone unlocked the door, he would be gone. There would be no finding him anywhere on castle grounds. Marvin had run away.