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sekhisadventures · 2 years ago

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Unlimited Sin

Somewhere on the Broken Shore

Dissonantia stood before a ritual circle set onto the ground in a secluded alcove of the fel-blighted landscape. She needed somewhere that the walls between the Nether and Azeroth were thin, and this was close to where she’d gotten payment for this one.

Before her, on the ground, was a single bottle of the anima she’d wrung from her captive souls. She had several stockpiled in her hidden lair in the Shadowlands, but this was worth the price.

She needed to be ready for Avalon and Savage United. They’d had another close call back in Gilneas, but she’d learned quite a bit from the encounter. Dareley was clever enough to work his way out of Cenoon’s illusions and Shalandrae’s magic was a solid counter for Az’arad’s physical might… but as for Nelen…

She grinned, her wings flexing behind her. She had been hoping, but the mage’s arcane power had done little to her. She was shocked the first day she’d woken up to find small stubby wings sprouting from her shoulder blades, but she’d grown to like them quite a bit, seeing them as a symbol that she was moving further and further away from her former, weak, mortal self. Between the Anima keeping her eternally young (as long as she had some to drink,) and the Nether’s influence infusing her with fel might… well… who knows what could happen. She did have that ace in the hole, that lovely little thing she discovered in Pandaria, but she was going to keep that hidden for now. No point in giving the whole game away…

“Roight then…” she looked up and nodded at the sky, then back at Az’arad and Cenoon, “Is th’ payment secure?” she asked.

The two demons nodded, Cenoon grinning down at their captive. A young Nightborne boy, barely into his teens, bound and gagged between them.

“Good, Suramar was bottled up fer eons. Bettin’ any wild ‘uns dunno what th’ Nightwell even is…” she grinned, then flexed her claws and uncorked the bottle of anima. She held her hands over it, drawing the liquid-like strands of energy out of the bottle.

“I call yez, those wot see, those wot cannot be fooled by spell or stealth! I grant yez rare magicks ta satisfy yer curiosity! I grant yez a child, altered by magic, ta satiate yez hunger!” she barked out, “Show yerself, ‘n the bottle ‘n boy are your’s ta do with as yez please! Wicked as a demon am I! I call yez!”

The circle flared, and a cackling filled the air, but it sounded wrong… half hissing, half giggling, as if it was a child laughing, but the child had too many teeth to laugh properly.

“New magic?! New for me?!” came a voice, high pitched and nasily. “Give give give! Give to meeeeee!”

Dissonantia smirked, sending a trickle of anima into the circle, the red liquid coalescing into a solid sphere... and then the eyes began to appear... a large purple orb, soon framed by several smaller ones… and then…

“NGYAAAAAH!” it snarled, a floating squid-like creature suddenly appearing and snapping up the orb in it’s mouth, suckling on it as if it were a giant piece of candy. “Oh! OH HO HO! ANIMA IT IS?!” it squealed in delight, “It is! It is! Such a fiiiiine gift!” it sneered.

The creature had a large bulbous body and a wide mouth filled with long razor-sharp fangs, several tentacles hanging underneath it as it floated freely in midair. The purple eyes that had appeared were what made up the rest of its face, the creature looking around, then spotted the Nightborne boy and grinned evily before charging… and slammed into an invisible wall right at the edge of Dissonantia’s circle.

“Not so fast boyo…” she smirked, “Yez want the child, yez gotta deal first…” she stepped between the demon and her captive.

“WAAAAAANT!” it hissed, “Can smell unknown magic on child! Want to see, want to taste!” it snarled.

“Yeh? Well I want an observer!” she snapped, “Yez lot can see through illusions ‘n stealth, ‘n yez can spy ‘n turn invisible ‘n shite… I got muscle, I got trickery, I need a spymaster fer me imp ta back up… yez in, yez get the kid. Yez out, I kick yer fat arse back to th’ nether ‘n try with th’ next observer I hook. Whats it gonna be squidlips?” she smirked.

The observer narrowed its eyes, “Why should I? Wide worlds… many worlds… do I need warlock?” it hissed. The observer was greedy, it wanted the magic it could sense in the nightborne’s body… but it didn’t want to just submit to a warlock’s service.

“Tell me, yez ever heard o’ th’ Dragon Isles?” she asked with a grin.

The demon paused, “… yeeeeeeesss…” it whispered.

“Well, wez found ‘em… ‘n I gots business there… yez sign on with me ‘n maybe yez can… tag along?” she smirked. Anima was a treasure, the power of the Nightwell was too… but draconic magic? Nobody in living memory had seen the Dragon Isles save for Alexstraza, Nozdormu, and their eldest kin!

The demon’s eyes widened, all seven of them. “… true? True true?! Dragon Isles?! Titan secrets?! Dragon magic?! TRUE?!” it gaped.

Dissonantia grinned, “Could be… yez want in?” she asked, holding up her hand and her ritual dagger.

The demon hesitated, gritting its teeth… then finally it stuck a tendril in its mouth and bit down hard, extending it to the edge of the circle, ichor dripping from the bite marks. “… Xel’kek the Observer binds self to warlock…” it hissed.

Dissonantia nodded, “Attaboy…” she chuckled, then slashed her hand with her dagger… the blood that welled up however wasn’t red but a dark, almost mustard-like yellow. Still mostly red… but slowly turning the deep poisonous green of true felblood. “I, Dissonantia, bind meself to yez demon.” she reached into the circle, grasping the tentacle, then growled low as their blood mingled, her arm aching for a long moment as the demon hissed in pain and discomfort.

“Warlock’s blood…” it hissed, looking at her, then at her horns and wings, “… becoming like mine… interesting…” it chuckled, then its eyes turned to the boy.

Dissonantia withdrew her hand, then nodded, “Azzy, pay th’ man.” she smirked.

The demon shoved the boy hard, causing him to stumble forward towards the circle. He cried out around his gag, then landed in a heap inside of the ring of fel energies… looking up in horror as the observer grinned down at him. “Yesssss! YES! Lovely lovely magic! Moon magic, powerful arcane! DELICIOUS!" it sneered as it descended and opened it’s mouth wide as wisps of magic began to flow away from the bound child’s body.

He screamed in pain as the power of the Nightwell was ripped from him, his body going skeletal thin in a matter of seconds! His eyes sunk in on themselves as his hair thinned, growing lank, and within a few minutes an emaciated Withered lay there, gasping around their gag.

The boy’s eyes were now empty of any sign of intelligence, only showing an endless hunger for the magic of which he had been robbed. Even the power of the Arcan'dor could not restore a Nightborne who fell to this state.

Dissonantia snapped her fingers, the magic keeping the circle shut fading. “Eugh, sucked ‘im dry. Azzy, put the little fecker outta his misery. Soul ain’t worth shite to me in that state.” she nodded as Az’arad stepped forward, then took his axe and slammed it down hard on the withered boy’s throat.

As Xelkek floated out to join them Cenoon smirked, “You know Mistress… should Granthox accept your offer and join our merry little band, that would actually make six of us.” he pointed out, “The same number as both those vexing little groups we’re dealing with…”

Dissonantia raised her eyebrow, “Huh… well ain’t that a fing…” she muttered, “I wasn’t even keepin’ track, but yez right…” she folded her arms over her chest.

“Indeed, perhaps we should name our group as well? Inspire a little… esprit de corps… as it were?” he asked.

Dissonantia raised her eyebrow at him, “… yez mean a sense o’ unity ‘n common interests? Ye git, our goal is ta raise fel ‘n keep me immortal.” she grunted.

Cenoon smirked, “Still counts if you ask me. Besides, it’ll really worry your former allies if they know we’ve got our own team to counter their’s.” he nodded, “Why, I even have an idea. You spent the last three years bitching about how careful you had to be to hide your activities from Dareley and Shalandrae… so why not something like ‘Unlimited Sin?’” he asked, “Shows that you’re free of their yoke to do as you will, be… as wicked as a demon, as it were.”

Dissonantia raised her eyebrow, then thought on that. Her presence alone worried Avalon and Savage United, and them knowing that she had her own allies, especially demonic ones, would only make that worse for them.

She grinned slowly, “Hmmm… yanno Cenoon… it does ‘ave a bit o’ a ring to it, dunnit?” she grinned, “Me own personal cabal o’ demons…” she chuckled, then laughed, then threw her head back and cackled before gesturing with her claws as a felfire meteor landed on the corpse of Xelkek’s ‘payment,’ incinerating it on the spot as a trio of feral imps popped out of the crater and scampered towards her.

“Aye, that may be just the fing…” she smirked, flexing her wings, “Roight then boyo, ‘Unlimited Sin’ it is! Now lets get back ta th’ lair ‘n plan our strategy fer th’ Isles!” she nodded, walking back towards the portal they’d prepared.

Elsewhere on Azeroth Savage United was sailing towards the newly discovered Dragon Isles and Avalon would soon join them… but so would their foe.

Dissonantia, losing more and more of herself to demonhood each day, though perhaps throwing it away would be more accurate.

With four, potentially five likeminded demons at her side, ready to end their threat and continue her plans. Immortality was a lovely thing to have, but once you had it what did you do with it?!

Well… perhaps Dissonantia would find out soon, and gods help anyone who caught her eye while she did so.

#warcraft #warcraft roleplay #warcraft fanfiction #world of warcraft #adventures in azeroth #dragonflight

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astridbecks · 3 years ago

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Snapshots of Astrid’s life through five spells, part two (@astrid-week day 3: soltryce; usual content warnings for the blumendrei graduation mission apply.)

— — —

Feeblemind (8th-level enchantment)

Range: 150 feet Components: V, S, M (a handful of clay, crystal, glass, or mineral spheres)

You blast the mind of a creature that you can see within range, attempting to shatter its intellect and personality. The target takes 4d6 psychic damage and must make an Intelligence saving throw.

On a failed save, the creature's Intelligence and Charisma scores become 1. The creature can't cast spells, activate magic items, understand language, or communicate in any intelligible way. The creature can, however, identify its friends, follow them, and even protect them. At the end of every 30 days, the creature can repeat its saving throw against this spell. If it succeeds on its saving throw, the spell ends. The spell can also be ended by greater restoration, heal, or wish.

— — —

Bren’s house catches fire faster than Astrid expects it to, given the damp spring Blumenthal has had. The smell of straw and wood going up in smoke is heavy in the air before there’s any sign that Una and Leofric have woken, and for a fleeting moment, she worries that the telltale signs of a house fire will draw the neighbors’ attention, even with the Ermendrud house as set back from the road as it is. (That is an oversight that Trent would be loathe to forgive, and all three of them know that their teacher is scrying on them, keeping a close eye on them tonight.)

And then the screams begin.

Bren takes a staggering step back, one hand coming up to cover his mouth. Eadwulf moves wordlessly, stepping behind him to keep him from fleeing, because they’d promised each other they’d stay strong.

Whatever we do, we do together, Bren had said before they entered Eadwulf’s home. It had been his lips against Eadwulf’s cheek as Eadwulf washed his parents’ blood from his knife; it had been his hand clutching Astrid’s steadily under the table as she palmed the vial of poison chosen for her parents.

Hesitation is only natural, even after so long being honed into weapons. This is their flesh and blood, after all. The final test will always be the hardest. It is understandable if Bren wants to flee, but they’ve promised each other that they will not allow it.

What she does not expect is for Bren to scream, “Mother! Father!” and bolt towards the growing inferno.

“Bren!” Astrid grabs his arm, alarmed, but when he whirls towards her there is nothing in his face but terror. She thinks, suddenly, of a rabbit caught in a trap, eyes rolling back with fear, teeth bloody from a fruitless attempt to gnaw its way free.

He is no stronger than her, but he does have several inches of height on her, and there’s a feral desperation to the way he tries to tear himself free from her grip. Still, she digs her heels into the ground and tries to drag him back, away from the crackle of fire and thick, choking smoke. Eadwulf is there, suddenly, catching Bren by the shoulders and shoving both of them away.

Bren stares down at her, chest heaving. Astrid puts her hands on either side of his face, giving him a sharp shake. Somewhere, distantly, she’s aware that Trent will see this, will read the truth in her terror, but the only thing she can care about in this moment is preventing Bren from rushing into the burning home.

“Bren, you cannot go in,” she insists. “It is done. We cannot undo it.”

His eyes fasten onto her face, blue and wild and terrified, and for a moment she thinks he has heard her, that he will come back to his senses. He clutches at the front of her shirt like he is drowning, and she offers him a trembling smile more relief than reassurance — yes, stay here, don’t go —

And then Bren’s hands are alight, flames searing into her throat, and she screams. The pain is immediate, overwhelming. Eadwulf shouts in alarm, seizing Bren’s wrists. Bren snarls, fingers sparking again, and through the agony Astrid manages to reach for the deepest arcane well she has and snatch the spell from his hands just long enough for Eadwulf to tangle his fingers in Bren’s, preventing him from casting again.

“Master Ikithon!” Eadwulf shouts, looking desperately up into the smoke, the night sky.

Don’t, we’re not allowed to ask for help, Astrid tries to say, but she can’t seem to get enough breath to speak. Her heartbeat roars in her ears, nearly drowning out the sound of the consuming flames. The screams from the house continue endlessly, horribly — and then they stop, and the silence is worse.

“We’ve failed,” Eadwulf says, voice hoarse. Bren struggles in his arms, weeping openly now, and Astrid shakes her head, gritting her teeth against the pain that flares through her blistered skin. “We need to go, he’s not going to — if we hide, maybe we can—”

“No,” Astrid gasps out. Where does Eadwulf think they can go and not be found? “No, we just — we just need to keep him restrained.” She mentally runs through the spells she has prepared, searching for anything that will help, but she cannot risk catching Eadwulf in a radius of effect, and he cannot cast while he is focused on restraining Bren.

A flash of light, a rush of displaced air. She spins, hands rising instinctively, but the figure that stands silhouetted against the burning house is familiar.

Trent’s expression is coldly disappointed as he strides forward, taking in the scene — Astrid’s charred clothing and livid burns; Bren thrashing against Eadwulf’s grip, sobbing; the smoke that stains Eadwulf’s face betraying the silent tears streaking down his cheeks.

That’s a demerit, showing weakness like that, Astrid thinks wildly, as if it matters at all. The fact that Trent had to teleport here to personally intervene outweighs every other misstep they’ve made.

She doesn’t recognize the spell that their teacher casts — a handful of tiny glass spheres flung into the air, a jagged incantation loosed into the smoke-filled dark — but there’s a spray of blood from Bren’s nose and ears and he goes limp in Eadwulf’s arms, eyes half-lidded and mouth going slack.

Trent’s right hand clamps down around Astrid’s wrist, his left hand seizing the collar of Bren’s shirt. As the sensation of being flung across a great distance seizes Astrid, the last thing she sees is the fire, painted bright across the darkness.

They land in a familiar room, though it takes a moment for Astrid’s brain to catch up, contextualize the clean lines of the furniture and elegant paintings hung on the walls — one of Trent’s private rooms in the northeast tower at the Vergesson Sanatorium.

There’s a flurry of activity, snatches of movement undercut by Trent’s imperious voice. She tries to keep up, but the best she can do is go through the motions as Bren is restrained, taken away. He’s confused and disoriented, clinging like a child to Eadwulf, and when he cries out at being dragged away, Eadwulf lets out a single, broken sob.

Afterwards, Astrid stands alone with Trent. Bren is gone; Eadwulf has been sent away. The gentle light from the flickering candles on the desk seems far too bright, and she has to tear her eyes away from the flames when Trent finally speaks with a heavy sigh.

“It is always a pity when such a promising student falls short at the very end. But you have cause to celebrate tonight. Your loyalty did not waver, even in the face of Bren’s weakness. You have proved yourself beyond either of your peers.” He smiles, and the warmth in his expression does not even seem false. “You have much to be proud of, Astrid.”

The praise she would have treasured only hours before rings hollow now, pebbles dropped into the endless, empty void threatening to swallow her. Still, she inclines her head obediently. “Yes, Master Ikithon.”

His smile turns satisfied. “If you wish, I will send for a cleric to see to your injuries.”

Even as a reward, nothing comes from Trent without strings attached. He tallies the favors he gives as closely as the mistakes his pupils make. The burns will surely leave scars — every time she looks in a mirror, she will face the memory of tonight.

Whatever we do, we do together.

Bren has shattered. Her parents are dead. When she leaves this room, she will have to process both of those things, but she will not bury them — refuses to hide them away and pretend they never existed.

“Your kindness is appreciated,” Astrid says, and gives him a smile with nothing behind it. “But there’s no need to trouble yourself, Master Ikithon.”

#astrid week 2021 #critical role #cr2 #astrid beck #caleb widogast #eadwulf grieve #blumendrei #my fic #i am in fact on the 'feeblemind was probably involved in the sanatorium thing' bandwagon #also if there's a canon confirmation of what level these three were at when they graduated idk what it is but uh. i went with lvl 5 #which only matters bc this fic implies astrid's highest slot is 3rd lvl but also idk if ppl care That Much abt dnd mechanics

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randomguywithwords · 5 years ago

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As The Dust Settles: Chapter 5 (Dabiten Slowburn)

The southern section of Deika City was the last part to be repaired. While the north was the region immediately tended to, given a memorial and paved with grey concrete, the south received little to no attention. It was still a wasteland.

As Geten walked through the broken streets, coated with a layer of ash, she recalled that this was where the fight started, where the celebrants poured out from everywhere, where the Resurrection Festival had began. The curtains had parted here.

Yet it was a tragic end that befell the Liberation Army, the curtains closing mercifully upon the final scene. Where there was zeal and hope to light the fire of liberation of meta abilities, it had been snuffed out by their enemies-turned-leaders.

It made her angry. Still, she refused to believe it at first. But after spending a few days walking amongst these heathens, the ceasefire still in effect, she began to realise that: No, it was no ceasefire, but a total surrender. Seeing her Grand Commander in the hospital, reeking of defeat – the word was poisonous to think – only confirmed her fears. Still, her beliefs persisted.

No, it was not the end. I have yet to hear him speak, hear him retake control over us.

That was what she thought, until just now, when he announced the transformation of the Meta Liberation Army to the Paranormal Liberation Front. And he would be transferring his leadership to that boy.

“Idiot! He did not give it up. That boy forced Re-destro to abdicate his throne. That must be it! It must be…” She muttered to herself, fists clenching as she her pace quickened. Her legs shivered.

Weakling. The coward surrendered the throne, Another voice in her head snarled.

How Re-destro acted towards the boy disgusted her. She could recall it clearly. Re-destro offering the boy a drink, like a common servant. He was smiling with placation, not unlike the polite expressions the bellhops wore in hotels. The Re-destro she knew since her induction into the Liberation Army was dead.

She sneered, but she did not know if it was her rage against that boy for bringing Re-destro to his knees, or her pity towards Re-destro’s lowliness. She could not bear to watch further, and hence left the celebrations early.

Which brought her here, kicking stones aside and letting the fire in her stomach burn. Images burnt like film into her mind, forever frozen in her memories, the ones that hurt her. Part of her was angry, a raging inferno, while the other was scared, shivering, at her thoughts of treachery.

She sat down on a fallen pillar, her breaths growing faster. These two sides of her collided, and she did not know what to do. Her fists were shaking, the ice in her pocket thrashing around, responding to her distraught mind.

Her hands grasped her parka, pulling it tightly over her head. She was his weapon, his will incarnate.

What did she have, if she was no longer Re-destro’s weapon?

The answer came to her after a pause of breath. She exhaled slowly. The fire and ice within her embraced now.

She stood up; her arms fell to her sides.

I execute the will of the Liberation Army. Re-destro is not fit to lead and guide our principles, but the principles are unchanged. Strength is survival. I will ensure that.

Her mind was clear. She brought her right hand up. A pillar of ice erupted from the ground, obeying her commands. Clenching her fist, the pillar compressed into a giant sphere, and at the thrust of her arm, it flew forward into a brick wall, smashing it into smithereens.

Then she felt a surge in temperature from her side. A wall of ice rose to block the torrent of flame on her right, melting the wall and allowing her an unwanted view of the man who had unleashed the fire.

“You.” She faced him.

“I try to get away from this...party,” Dabi said, the last word dripping with disdain, “and I find you here. This is really beginning to annoy me.”

His head was tilted to the side, staring at her with those cold eyes of his. She realised his true intentions behind his words and actions: an invitation to fight to fulfil their mutual promise.

For the first time that night, Geten’s face twisted into a smile.

“You were a pathetic nuisance the minute you showed at our doorstep.” With that, Geten raised icicles and sent them flying towards the fire-user in all directions, like targeted missiles.

What followed was something Geten grudgingly admired. Dabi seemed to note every shard’s position. He rolled to dodge one, blasting fire at two to melt them while resuming his standing position. He swept his right arm, creating a barrier of flames that stopped the few coming from the front. The last shard, about to stab him in the back, was used as a platform to backflip off of, sending the shard into the ground shattered. The man landed unscathed, and judging by his indifferent expression, unimpressed.

Geten allowed herself a smile, but Dabi couldn’t see it from her parka covering her face. “Shame you didn’t present such versatility when we last battled. It would have made for a more interesting fight, if you hadn’t stood still the entire time and fired,” She called out.

“I don’t bother exerting myself for weak trash,” He replied.

“That’s a compliment, then.”

Dabi’s face morphed into anger. He rushed at her, his hands igniting.

Geten performed another ‘raising’ gesture, with an ice spike forming underground and about to pierce her opponent, when Dabi did something that stunned her.

Dabi, without shifting his glare away from her, aimed his palm at the ground and fired, melting the oncoming ice, which never reached his feet.

What the hell? He predicted that? Geten thought as she raised a thin wall of ice to separate the two. Waving her arms, ice carried her upwards, evading Dabi’s violent flames that punched through the wall and where she was a split second ago.

Once she was twice his height, the ice beneath her reformed and flowed towards her arms. She let herself fall headfirst onto Dabi, who had just noticed the shadow blanketing him.

She slammed onto the ground, gauntlets of ice cracking the pavement like glass. She scowled, seeing as Dabi had managed to leap away in the nick of time.

A stream of azure fire was sent her way, which she raised her fists to block.

Need more ice, she thought. She felt for the melting ice around her; the molecules were beginning to vibrate more vigorously but still under melting point. With a thought, their temperature plummeted like an uncontrolled elevator down a shaft. The water molecules slowed, the effect spreading fast. Soon she had more ice at her disposal.

Just in time for her to coalesce them into shards and shoot at Dabi.

Dabi growled and fired another blast to nullify the attack. He clutched at his smoky right arm.

“Getting tired yet? Painful, isn’t it?” Geten taunted, grinning at her imminent victory. All other thoughts faded away, leaving only one in her mind: I’m going to kill him.

“What about you? You’re shaking.” Dabi pointed a finger at her hands. Immediately, she shoved them into her pockets.

He smirked at her reaction. “Let me guess. Decreasing the temperature of the ice requires you to absorb their energy. And it has to go somewhere, right? You.”

Damn it. I’m overheating. How could she have let this happen? She was usually mindful about her limits. What changed?

She stood her ground, willing her body to cool down, but she could not attack. Any ice she summoned would melt too fast, thereby removing her control over it.

“Can’t move, can’t attack…” Dabi mused, keeping his gaze on her. “How about we call it even?”

“Never.” She spat.

Dabi blinked, then shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

He ran at her, his eyes alit with malice.

Come on. She willed any ice to move, but she felt the water slip out of her control as soon as she commanded it. Her heart raced.

He wasn’t stopping. His hands were burning. The azure flames were blinding her. Perhaps it would be the last light she ever saw.

The ice in her pockets? She felt a cold wetness against her stomach. Her heart skipped a beat. I’ve lost control.

Dabi’s arm was raised, beginning to blaze with uncontrolled power. She closed her eyes, her body heat nothing compared to the flames that stung her face.

I’m weak.

Yet it was not flaming agony that scorched her face, but cooling nighttime wind caressing her cheeks. She opened her eyes to see the well-dressed villain with that top hat and mask looking at her curiously. In his hand was a blue pearl.

“Thought you two were having a practice match, so I stayed far away,” Mr Compress said, “But then things seemed to heat up, so to speak. Had to step in.”

He tossed the pearl containing Dabi into the air a few times. Geten just stared at him as best as she could with the spots dancing in her eyes, her mind in a whirl. She blinked a few times.

“Normally I wouldn’t intervene. I love a good show, and you two were excellent performers.” He pocketed the pearl. “However, Shigaraki wants you alive. He knows you’re powerful, so I can’t have Dabi take you out so fast. I’m not saying I care about you, but…” He shrugged.

“Don’t die just yet. You’re needed in this army.” He bowed and left, swinging his cane carelessly.

Geten stood there for a while. She knew she had cooled down, but strangely she found herself quaking from her head to her toes. Finally, she dropped down onto the floor. She felt something wet flow down her cheeks and plop onto her parka.

Burying her face in her gloved hands, she allowed a sob to ripple through her throat.

Her own voice roared at her. A failure! You wanted to be a weapon, but you lost against him. Weakling.

You’re needed in this army, Compress had told her. Needed as a weapon, but for the new army, not the one where her loyalties lie.

She should have been happy. Maybe I am. Are these tears of joy? She couldn’t explain it. The fact that he had acknowledged her purpose was validation of her skills. The fact that Shigaraki was keeping her alive was proof that she was a powerful asset.

Then why did she feel so empty and cold?

Something bit at her.

Him and I, fire and ice, day and night. What is it about him, about the League, that’s so different from the Army? So different from me?

Perhaps it was just the cold.

------

“What the fuck was that?” Dabi pushed Compress against the walls of the hotel room.

“Watch it,” The entertainer warned, the threat making Dabi take a step back. “As for what I was doing, you were about to kill her! The hell were you thinking? We might not be chums with the Liberation Army, but we aren’t enemies anymore. How would you have explained yourself to Shigaraki?”

Dabi sat down on his bed. “I wasn’t going to kill her. I couldn’t have.”

Compress, massaging his back, raised an eyebrow. He stated after a pause, “You were drained, weren’t you.”

“You’re a showman, you should have known it was all fake. I barely could have choked out enough flames to cook her. I just wanted to see her lose.” Dabi said.

The other snorted, “Well excuse me, it looked pretty real, and I was being cautious. And you did win. Whatever rivalry you two have.”

Dabi rubbed his pain-wracked arms. “I’m going to shower.” He stood up.

He was at the door when Compress spoke. “Y’know, I can’t honestly tell whether you two want to kill each other or show off who’s better.”

“Both.” He answered as left the room.

------

This chapter might be the first in which I’m somewhat satisfied with the characterisations of both main characters. I think I have a sense of where this story is going, but I’m already scaffolding a minor rewrite of the previous few chapters to fit in with my vision for the story.

Previous Chapters: 4, 3, 2, 1

#bnha fanfiction #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #mha fanfiction #dabi x geten #geten x dabi #dabiten #bnha dabi #bnha geten #slowburn #dabixgeten #dabi #geten #bnha villains #bnha #mha #ATDS

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rosemaidenvixen · 5 years ago

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You are my Sunshine

Chapter 15: Fifteen Part 1

Ao3

Jim stood in front of the bathroom mirror, gaze fixed on his reflection.

It was just a little after six in the morning, the square of sky outside the bathroom window was inky dark, but steadily brightening. Barbara was asleep in bed and Jim had already finished his nightly chores and made their lunches for the next day. All he had left to do was wait until sunrise so he could get dressed.

Jim leaned in over the sink, taking an inventory of sorts of his nocturnal features.

Changing every sunrise and sunset had been part of his life for as long as Jim could remember. He wasn’t in the habit of closely examining himself at night, normally his metamorphosis was nothing more than an event he planned his routine around.

But today was not a normal day.

Jim tilted closer to the mirror, until his flat, hooked nose was practically touching the glass; he was taller like this, by at least a foot.

It was Thursday morning, his first week of freshman year in highschool. An ordinary day in most ways except for one.

Today was his fifteenth birthday.

Jim reached up and pinched his cheek, tracking his movements in the glass. He had azure flesh like a granite statue, even after ten years that still seemed the most bizarre alteration.

Jim didn’t like his birthday, he hadn’t for a very long time. Almost everyone he knew was aware of that.

But what they didn’t know was that there was one day Jim hated even more than his birthday.

Jim slid his hand underneath his jaw; sharp tusks jutted out past his lower lip, built for crunching through bone and metal. His fingers slid further back along his mandible into the thick, coarse hair that spread down his neck and back, even starting to line his face in places.

A day just over a month after the date of his birth, a day for which the tenth anniversary was rapidly coming up.

The day he took a bath that changed everything.

The day he transformed for the first time.

His hand traveled up around his pointy ears through the forest of hair on his scalp. Last but not least were the robust, back swept horns the color of ivory. Jim ran his fingers from the base of one horn to the tip, he was pretty sure they were still growing.

Ambient light was seeping into the bathroom at a rapid pace, at any moment the first true rays of sunshine would appear outside.

Jim’s reflection blinked, round blue eyes disappeared and reappeared. Those were the same; in spite of everything. His mom had told him that was how she recognized him on the first night when she found him in the woods. Jim had the same eyes, day or night.

For all the good that did him.

Jim could tally up the changes, visible or otherwise, but it never made any difference.

Almost ten years and he still didn’t know what he was, only that he changed into it every sundown, rain or shine.

And then, from outside the tiny bathroom window, the sun came up.

Jim’s otherworldly appearance melted away, the transition was so smooth he could barely feel it.

In the time it took to breathe in and out it was all over.

And then Jim was staring at himself in the mirror; lanky, pasty skin, longish black hair, and no horns or fangs to speak of. The real him, the genuine Jim Lake Jr, standing in the bathroom at six thirty in the morning wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants that were practically falling off.

Jim stood perfectly still, managing to be mystified by the complete transformation even after living with it for years.

He was normal now, he could go outside and go to school and mingle with people, no one being the wiser.

Until sunset, when he would grow and turn blue and sprout fangs and horns and have to stay safely tucked indoors, and the whole thing started all over again.

And again.

His life wasn’t always ruled by the movement of the sun, Jim knew that. He had a vague memory of walking down the night time streets of Los Angeles, hand in hand with each of his parents.

But all that had gone off the rails when he was five.

Despite his best efforts to think back on that night, on what had happened to him, the memory was hazy, distorted by time and his own childish abilities of recollection. But no matter how faded and blurry the memory itself was, the terror of it remained sharp and crisp as always.

Splashing around in the tub.

Dropping the dark, grainy sphere into the water.

Being swallowed by darkness.

Waking up in a world that wasn’t right.

Mom coming to find him, bursting through the trees and scooping him up, he had been small enough that she could still do that.

Seeing her cry for the first time.

The miracle that happened at sunrise.

The nightmare that came back once the sun went down again.

Jim didn’t think he would forget any of that even if he tried.

He hesitated at the mirror for a few more seconds before heading to his room to get dressed.

Ten years.

Ten years of hiding in his house and keeping secrets from everyone he knew. Ten years spent terrified that someone would find out the truth.

What the next ten be like?

Almost robotically, Jim finished getting dressed and gathered up the lunches for him and Toby.

His mom had worked the graveyard shift last night, which meant that she wouldn’t be awake until nine or ten, so Jim was all on his own this morning.

Seeing no reason to wait any longer, he put on his backpack and went into the garage, grabbing his bike and heading into the driveway to wait for Toby.

Due to the fact that he was awake at an hour most other teenagers would consider obscenely early, Jim had to wait nearly fifteen minutes before Toby finally pulled up on his bike

“Morning Jim, you ready for day four of our conquest of high school?”

Jim flashed him a smile that he hoped was convincingly cheery “You’d better believe it,”

As they peddled down the street in tandem, Toby excitedly described to Jim his master plan to woo every girl in school. Despite the fact that he’d never actually had a full conversation with any of them.

Jim rolled his eyes as Toby rattled off three rules of love hunting that he had no doubt made up himself.

Of course that was what Toby was worried about, it wasn’t like he was dealing with any real problems.

Jim had to bite back a snarl. Toby got to enjoy his blissfully normal life just one house over from where Jim was on nightly house arrest; and he didn’t even appreciate how good he had it.

The sudden amount of sheer hostility he felt caught Jim off guard, causing him to wobble on his bike, nearly losing his balance. He quickly corrected himself before he could fall and hurried to catch up with Toby.

Jim brated himself while continuing to peddle in the direction of the school, keenly aware of Toby just ahead of him. It wasn’t fair of him to be mad at Toby. Toby had been Jim’s best friend for nearly an entire decade. Despite all the weirdness caused by his nightly transformation that he knew Toby noticed. Would any other kids his age put up with Jim’s quirky routine without asking questions? No. Toby was the greatest friend Jim had ever had. He didn’t deserve Jim’s spite.

They pulled to a stop shortly after passing the large Arcadia Oaks High School sign.; hauling their bikes up to the racks out front.

Jim squinted at the steadily rising sun while locking his bike into the rack.

Ten years.

In a month and a half it would be ten whole years of everything. All the questions, the discoveries, the fear and horror.

Jim still couldn’t quite believe it.

Locks in place, Jim and Toby went inside the building and headed to their lockers, which luckily enough, were practically next to each other.

He thought back on all the nights he practically had to run home to beat the sunset. All the excuses and evasions he had to give Toby. All the close calls.

Of course now that he was in high school, it wouldn’t be any easier.

At least when he was little there hadn’t been much that he could do outside the house without his mom. Now there would be dances and after school activities Jim would have to dodge, no doubt Toby would start asking him to sneak out so they could go to parties. And then once he graduated….

The locker door slipped from Jim’s hand as the realization hit him like a freight train.

It’s wasn’t going to stop.

Not today. Not when he graduated. Not ever.

This was never going to get any better.

A chill slowly spread out from his chest as the cold, hard truth sunk in.

This was going to be his entire life.

Jim was so out of it that he almost noticed his textbooks slipping from his grip too late. Yelping, he quickly grabbed the sliding books, barely managing to keep them from falling to the floor.

“You ok there Jimbo?”

“Oh-- uh-- yeah I’m good,”

Toby looked skeptical “You sure? Cuz I know your birthday always--”

“Yep,” Jim forced a grin “I’m fine,”

Toby didn’t look convinced, but mercifully he dropped the subject.

Jim allowed himself a small sigh of relief at Toby’s lack of prodding, but his bleak revelation still lingered.

They went in to their first class, algebra with Ms. Janeth, and took their seats.

Jim tried to compose himself.

But figuring out the truth had opened up a dam.

He was never going to go to homecoming or prom.

He was never going to live in the dorms or even go to college.

After high school his life was over.

It would be nothing but closed blinds and the same four walls until the day he died.

Jim dropped his pencil as a horrifying vision struck him.

Jim Lake Junior, age seventy, blue skin, horns and all. Living alone in the house he grew up in, never leaving Arcadia. His mom had passed away, he had lost contact with Toby a long time ago.

Jim; isolated and alone.

For the rest of his life.

Jim struggled to slow down his breathing, piercingly aware of Ms. Janeth lecturing in front of him and an entire classroom of teenagers.

He had to keep it together, couldn’t break down. Not here. Not now.

Jim dug his fingers into the sides of his desk, trying to stifle the burning in his eyes. He just had to last until lunch, then he could find somewhere to lose it.

The unisex bathroom near the principal’s office. It was just a single room with a door that locked so Jim wouldn’t be interrupted.

During lunch Jim could go in there, cry his eyes out, scream into a wad of paper towels, and get this all out of his system. That should last him for the rest of the day.

Jim tried to go through the breathing exercises his mom had taught him, but the ugly truth kpet surging to the forefront of his mind.

He was stuck like this for the rest of his life, it was never going to get better or easier, and one day Toby and his mom would be gone and he would be completely alone.

Jim bit his cheek to stifle to sound of a sob coming up.

He couldn’t do this. Jim was going to burst into tears in the middle of algebra where everyone could see him.

His fingertips had turned white from the force they were gripping the desk with. He was starting to shake all over, he had to blink every few seconds to keep the tears from spilling out.

Jim needed to pull himself together, now.

He summoned up the happiest thoughts he could think of; owning and riding his own vespa, Toby beaming in delight at his latest cooking creation, getting a tight hug from mom….

The guilt he felt every time he lied to Toby, seeing Mom working herself to the bone to take care of him, cleaning the house from top to bottom just to distract himself from the endless hours of solitude every night, spending decades of his life this way….

One of Jim’s tears escaped and stained one of the problems on his worksheet.

This wasn’t working, Jim was one small spark away from an explosion

Time for plan B. If Jim couldn’t make himself happy, then he would have to make himself sad about something else.

And there was only one memory that was potent enough to do that.

His dad.

Jim hadn’t cared about that deadbeat for a long time, but the memories of him still hurt.

Jim forced his frantic breathing to slow down while he dredged up half faded memories from ten years ago today.

Watching his dad come down the stairs, a suitcase in each hand, ignoring Jim’s questions about where he was going.

Seeing him get in there car and drive away without saying a single word, only sparing Jim an indifferent glance.

Standing at the edge of the driveway watching the car fade into the distance.

Wondering what it was he did to make his dad stop loving him.

That did the trick, he knew by now that if his dad was enough of a jerk to ditch them, then he and his mom were probably a lot better off without him, but recalling exactly how much it hurt to watch him leave distracted Jim from the hard truth that had chosen this morning to sink in.

It seemed to take forever for first period to end, seesawing between panic and decade old heartbreak the entire time, but at long last Ms. Janeth dismissed them.

Jim let out a shaky breath. One period down, three to go. He could do this.

Restraining himself from running, Jim hurried to his locker, desperate to avoid a conversation with Toby. It would be ten times harder to hide the rising tide of hysteria from him.

He spun open his locker and grabbed his books in record time. Just when Jim was feeling sure that he could make it to his next class incident free, the absolute worst possible thing happened.

A hand shot out and slammed his locker shut, a smirking face framed by blonde hair entered his field of vision "I don’t remember saying you could use this hallway today buttsnack,”

Jim had to bite his lip to keep from screaming. Today of all days, Psycho Steve just had to make an appearance.

Hastily, Jim turned and tried to escape down the other side of the hall only to have Logan and Seamus step out in front of him and cut off any escape.

Normally he could deal with Steve throwing his weight around, but not now, not today.

Jim struggled to speak without letting the raging storm of grief and fury inside him color his words.

“I...I’ve got to get to class, so I can’t really do this right now--”

“Oh so you want to throw down later? How does you and me on the football field after school sound?”

Jim dug his fingers into his textbooks so hard he could feel the sharp cover cutting off circulation. Was Steve really that dumb or had he just wanted to pick a fight from the start?

“No I--”

“No backing out Lake," Steve smirked down at him "We're going to settle this once and for all,”

Even though he was two seconds away from a complete meltdown and Steve would no doubt wipe the floor with him, part of Jim, the stupid, stubborn, angry part, wanted to take Steve up on his offer, just to wipe the smug grin off his face.

It wasn't enough for guys like Steve to have it better than everyone else. They had to rub it in their faces.

Jim glared up at Steve’s oh-so self satisfied grin.

Arrogant prick.

Steve had it great; buff, perfect blonde hair, a spot on the basketball team, plenty of cronies to always back him up.

His free hand tightened into a fist.

Steve didn’t turn into a monster when the sun went down, he didn’t spend half his life indoors so men in black from the government wouldn’t lock him up on a secret base somewhere, didn’t have to eat raw meat and metal so he wouldn’t starve. Stupid, perfect Steve had it so great, living his nights without fear, no doubt surrounded by tons of friends, actually having a future past graduation--

The unexpected wave of emotion made his eyes sting.

Focus.

Take deep breaths.

Now more than ever Jim needed to keep his cool.

If Jim started to cry in front of Steve of all people he couldn’t imagine how bad it would be.

“So what will it be Lake?”

Just when Jim had forced back his emotions enough to give a coherent reply, Toby chose that moment to show up.

“Hey, what's going on?”

Steve scowled at Toby "Mind your own business, buttsnack!"

Toby's gaze turned frosty.

Jim threw a desperate look at his friend, silently begging him to not make the situation worse.

“We’re not afraid of you Steve,” Toby followed this bold statement up with a quick wink at Jim, clearly having misinterpreted his expression.

Steve snarled “That settles it, we’re doing this,”

“No, no we’re not doing anything,”

His birthday, Toby, Steve, everything, Jim couldn’t keep himself together for much longer.

A hint of a whine had started to bleed into his tone; he needed to get out of here now.

Motions jerky with nerves, Jim darted past Logan and Seamus and managed to make it a ways down the hallway, only to have Steve rush ahead and block him.

Steve was a good deal taller than him, something he used to his full advantage while looming over Jim “No wimping out Lake. You and me, football field, midnight. Be there,”

Steve’s words hit him like a fist to the gut. It didn’t matter whether Jim was willing to fight Steve or not, he couldn’t meet him at midnight if he wanted to.

He couldn’t go to homecoming.

He couldn’t go to a play or a sports game.

He couldn’t sneak out to go the end of the year bonfire.

Jim felt whatever tenuous control he had over his emotions slip.

Who was he kidding, his life was over already.

Toby and Steve were exchanging more heated words but it almost didn’t sound real. Dim and indistinct, like they were both underwater.

Jim was never going to go to college or even move out of Arcadia, never hold down a real job, never date or get married, never have a family of his own.

Sooner or later, everyone he cared about would leave him and Jim would be alone.

Forever.

The world around him shifted back into focus “Alright Lake, are you in or out?”

A sob bubbled up in the back of Jim’s throat.

The hallway was thick with other students by now, all of them could just step outside and live their lives without fear. He was surrounded by people that had no idea what he struggled with every day and never would.

He was lightheaded, his knees were weak.

Jim felt almost like a puzzle piece that had been forced into the wrong spot. Trying so desperately to fit in, but clearly not belonging.

“You going to say anything buttsnack?” Steve sneered.

“Jim can totally take you on,” Toby said, supportive and enthusiastic as always “Right Jim?”

It didn’t matter what he tried or what he did. Jim was never going to have all the mundane, wonderful things that everyone else took for granted.

Jim sank to the ground, stirring up surprised murmurs and gasps from everyone in the crowded hallway.

He’d could pretend and maintain the illusion until he was blue in the face, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Jim was never going to have anything more than half a life.

Toby approached him, clearly concerned “You ok Jim?”

Unable to hold it in any longer, a sob forced its way out of his mouth.

He was doomed, he had been doomed ever since that awful night nearly ten years ago. It just took him that long to realize it.

Tears started to dribble down his cheeks, flushed with shame. He knew this was coming, why couldn’t he hold it together for just a little longer? Why did he have to go to pieces here, now, where everyone could see?

Crying in front of the whole student body was a surefire way to doom his high school career before it even started, but then again what did it even matter?

His life was already in tatters, had been for a long time, what was one more thing gone wrong?

More sobs come along with the tears, spilling out harder and faster.

Normal was a pipe dream, something other people got to have and Jim could only pretend at. His life would be ruled by his transformation until the day he died.

Losing any restraint he had left, Jim started sobbing with abandon, regardless Steve, Toby, and the growing crowd around him.

Through bleary unfocused eyes, he saw his tears start to drip onto the linoleum floor.

Despite all the other teens surrounding him, Jim had never felt more alone in his life.

#rmvwrites #tales of arcadia #trollhunters #fanfic #you are my sunshine #jim lake jr #toby domzalski #steve palchuck

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refractment · 5 years ago

Text

Previous part here.

---

The two toxtricity brothers — Amp and Melo — smacked into each other amidst a flurry of pink orbs exploding all around them. Nova rocketed into the air and fired Air Slash crescents on the two of them from above. Toxins gathered in Melo’s hands as he prepared to counter, but Jade leaped forward and grabbed his shoulder.

“Hey, handsome, why don’t I show you my favorite jam,” Jade whispered, adding a sensual growl as she slapped her toxin-coated tail against Melo’s spiky waist. Melo was about to slam an electrified fist into her when Jade jumped off and Melo dropped to one knee, struggling to breath.

“Th... the hell did you bloody do to me?”

Jade didn’t respond, instead turning and spewing flames from her tail in Rillaboom Jamjar’s direction. He had to cancel his charge and back off, but he stumbled right into the path of a burst of white, shimmering light from Moonchaser. Shredder hung tough through it, however, and lunged for Moonchaser with a loud screech.

“Not on my watch!” Kat raised a paw high and hurled an Aura Sphere toward Shredder.

“I won’t back down! Not today! Not until I’ve wiped you blokes all away!” Shredder snarled. He whirled in Kat’s direction and summoned a huge boulder between his paws. Shredder hurled it right into the Aura Sphere, then lunged into the resulting dust cloud that formed.

“Kat, look out! He’s coming for you!” Moonchaser cried, only to shriek in surprise when Shredder doubled back toward her. A fiery fist connected with her right shoulder and a resounding snap echoed out alongside Moonchaser’s agonized wails.

“You dirty fuck! You’re gonna pay for that!” Kat snarled, lightning bristling through her fur.

“You’re the one who’s gonna pay!” Amp barked, before a sharp pressure dug into Kat’s throat. The Throat Chop sent her to the floor where she rolled to a stop by a power conduit.

Nova tried to blast Amp from behind with a retaliatory Photon Geyser, but Melo kept him at bay with Poison Jab tendrils. He silently swore. Things were looking up for them! They’d paired up with the right types and everything. So, why was it going south so quickly? It had to have been the Harvesters’ Z-Power. Nova had to put Shredder out of commission first. He was the leader, right? That had to make him the source.

“Cerise, do you think you can—”

Whatever Nova wanted to tell her was caught off when Shredder’s howls rang out throughout the room.

“You lot got spunk. I’ll give you that! But your time’s up. I’m knocking you all to the mat!” Shredder rose into air. Rocks surrounded him, growing ever larger and coalescing into a giant boulder. His band mates formed up around him, adding toxins and grassy knolls until the boulder is practically the size of the entire floor.

“What the fuck?! D-Do something, Nova! They’re gonna... they’re gonna...”

Nova already had his teammates poké balls in hand. With Kat and Moonchaser writhing in agony, recalling them was for the best. He remembered the promise he had made. The going had gotten too tough. So, it was time to get going.

“Nice try, but it’s time for the grand finale!” Shredder tossed the boulder down. Nova recalled his teammates, then tried to summon a wormhole. But he watched his light fizzle out against his hand.

He looked up at the oncoming amalgamate boulder with a sense of overwhelming dread. It would crush the poké balls for sure. Hell, it would crush him! He wouldn’t even be able to put a dent in that thing. Nova couldn’t believe it. After promising Ruby and Scarlett he knew what he was doing he was going to get himself killed... alongside some innocent pokémon. And potentially everyone watching the match up in the stadium!

No... no! It can’t end here. Not like this... not like this...

Something stirred deep inside of Nova. In his periphery, he saw the power generators glowing bright. Only the energy wasn’t surhing toward the wormhole... it was surging toward him. His core burned against his back.

“You... you... you...”

Nova trembled. A silhouette gazed back at him in his mind’s eye.

If you truly want to succeed... you must retake your mantle. As a destroyer. As a devourer. Otherwise, you will perish.

“Say goodnight, punk!” Shredder shouted, roaring with laughter.

“NO!”

Golden light erupted around Nova. A rainbow beam raced out and destroyed the middle of the giant boulder. It fell apart, raining dirt and grass down all around the room. Shredder fell to the ground with a startled yip. He looked up to find four golden wings flaring out and a pair of mismatched eyes staring back at him. All around his band, the power conduits had been completely drained of their energy.

“You’re done causing trouble here!”

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cebinaruavin · 5 years ago

Text

Sinister Shadows

((Story co-written with @thefugitivemango / Alteris . Story elements discussed with/approved by @nepenthea / @pariker . @brent-sunborn and @kaiekasunwhisper tagged for character mention))

~*~*~

Ears flickered and eyes darted around. Alteris had no desire to be here, of all places. He’d heard stories of Nazjatar, of course - he expected every elf had. And even before his family had inducted him into the shadowy cult of Twilight, it sounded very much like a place he wanted to avoid at all costs. Seeing it now, that opinion hadn’t changed.

But he had a purpose here and now. In the ruins of Zin-Ashari, the Coterie had made camp. Expecting the glory of N’Zoth to wash over them here, at the moment of his expected release… they waited. She waited. Nepen’thea meditated, communing with the darkness, the shadowy power that flowed through her. Empowered her. Even now, she was in a trance state, completely attuned to the Void. Alteris watched her from the shadows of her lavish room. Watching her, and the door… warily. If she woke, she’d have questions. And if Kai’eka or that angry little stalker she partnered with came back, they’d have questions, too.

Questions he’d rather avoid.

“Find it yet?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Thought y’knew where it was.”

“Never said that, Sweetie,” Cebina’s melodious voice replied.

It was true. The priestess has promised to keep an eye out for the item Alteris had requested, and to collect it if found. However; she hadn’t been invited to Thea’s room often since then; the Speaker was drawn to her Void meditation more and more the closer N’Zoth came to being free. Just as well. The commotion at the Eternal Palace gave the two interlopers the perfect opportunity to search her room freely.

And so, while Alteris watched her back, Cebina rummaged through chests, drawers and wardrobes. She wasn’t about to risk actively using her powers, though. That would leave a trail that could be traced back to her.

Time passed and Cebina huffed. Her search had yielded no results. She looked over to a large pile of pillows where Thea’s famous hookah was kept.

“You also never mentioned what it would look like,” she added as she got up and went over to look under and around the pillows.

“I dunnae know what it looks like! I told yeh that!” he whisper-shouted back, brow furrowing. “It’s gotta be here, though. She wouldn’t leave it behind.”

He slipped back from watching Nepen’thea, delving deeper into the room to help Cebina search. It was a huge disadvantage, not knowing what, exactly, it looked like. But a powerful item like that, literally his leash, wasn’t something he could see the Speaker leaving outside her reach. It had to be there, somewhere!

“Check boxes and shit.” he whispered again. “Th’ thing in me’s some kinda sphere… maybe th’ controller is, too.”

“Boxes are too obvious,” Cebina tapped her finger on her lips as she thought, “Hmm, a sphere…”

Her ears perked up as she made her way back to the vanity and began sifting through the jewelry.

“Come here and see if any of these feel familiar to you.”

Alteris shrugged - it was worth a shot. Slowly, he hovered his hand over the jewelry as Cebina splayed it out atop the vanity. His lip curled down, in disgust; lavish necklaces and bracelets, earrings to match… gaudy things, some of them. Others so ornate and complex, he could hear the whispers of unearned superiority in their low jinglings when Cebina set them out. Alteris was never big into the lavish life anyway. But this seemed especially excessive. Sickeningly so.

Nothing felt familiar.

He huffed, grumbling lowly in… Dwarvish?... as he continued the futile search. Nothing reacted, nothing felt any different or out of the ordinary. None of the jewelry could be the controller. Nothing in the room felt like the controller. If she hid it, she hid it well. And he didn’t have time to overturn every drawer or case in the room to find it. His eyes narrowed, shooting back to the Speaker in stasis. She’d forced his hand, this time. Bringing him back into enslavement, flaunting her power so needlessly… for what? She didn’t seem to want him for anything other than just to say she had him. A pet. He wouldn’t get free of her as long as she had that control. Otherwise…

“... We’ve gotta improvise.” he mumbled lowly, eyes narrowed.

Cebina sighed at Alteris’ lack of patience as she went about returning the different pieces of jewelry in their rightful positions in the ornate box. There was a reason she mostly worked alone...

“Not much to improvise on, Sweetie. Thea’s not dumb. She hides her things well. There’s probably an Arcane cloak over it. Makes it invisible and is preventing Void users from detecting it.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle at Nepen’thea’s cleverness, “She’s good. Best just to put everything back where we found it and come back when the next opportunity presents itself. I’ll look into acquiring something that can help us detect Arcane enchantments for next time.”

It sounded like a solid plan. And if Alteris was of a mind to hear it, he might’ve agreed. But his mind was made up - if he couldn’t find the controller, he’d simply have to make sure she could never use it. And there was only one sure-fire way to make sure of that!

“Won’t be a next time, Sweetie.” Alteris returned, somewhat mockingly.

He reached back, quickly drawing his swords from their scabbards. Without hesitation, he reeled back, and thrusted them at Nepen’thea! ...But it wasn’t so simple to kill a Speaker. Least of all, one as cunning as her! The void energies surrounding her reacted, forming a dense barrier that caught Alteris’ blades as he thrust them towards the Speaker. He snarled, pressing against the void barrier with all his might! Within it, Nepen’thea seemed blissfully unaware of what was going on; her serene expression remained, as her meditations continued.

Somehow, it pissed Alteris off all the more.

“What are you…?!” Cebina quickly spun as she heard the clash of energies.

She shouldn’t have been surprised. Alteris wasn’t the patient type. He’d demonstrated that once already by getting killed in Silvermoon not long after his resurrection from the Void. She wanted to be angry, but really, Alteris was just acting like the dumbass he was. It was her own fault for agreeing to come with him on this search in the first place.

The damage was done. Nepen’thia had been attacked. Despite her appearing oblivious to it, no doubt had a way of detecting who had made the attack. She could attempt to stop Alteris, and risk going down with him when shit hit the fan. Or, she could help him in murdering a prone Speaker and gain more control and freedom over her own situation. Between her and Alteris, they could no doubt get the job done.

She didn’t need to move from where she was, extending her hands as the shadows weaved around to encompass her entire body. Her powers were much stronger here, so close to N’Zoth’s embrace. The shadows extended from her fingertips, shooting across the room to move over the barrier.

“Get ready,” she told Alteris, “I’ll have the shield down in under a minute.”

It was all she said before setting her mind to the task at hand, pouring all of her concentration in nullifying the barrier. The Speaker’s shield was strong, but her mind being elsewhere made it less strong than it could be. Cebina, being empowered and in full concentration, was much stronger in this situation. The Void energies sparked and flared.

Pleasantly surprised Cebina didn’t try and stop him, Alteris grinned. He held, pressing against the void shield as long as it took for the Priestess to undo it. It shattered in an instant, the powers both of them exacted against it proving sufficient enough in overcoming the barrier!

“Now!”

The burst, however, caused a blowback - a steady galewind force of power blasting back anything not tied down! Nepen’thea’s personal protection was layered, it seemed. The shield was only the beginning! Curtains billowed, clothing racks and dressers toppled over, the room itself fell into an upheaval… But Alteris remained, planting his feet as he resisted the blast. He couldn’t fail now, they’d come too far for that by now!

“Nnnyyaaaaagh!” he cried out, swords inching closer against the torrent of energy repelling him!

He began to gain ground, razor-sharp tips of his dark swords closing in on the Speaker. Tantalizingly close - mere millimeters! He lunged with all his might to close the gap. It worked; the blades found purchase in Nepen’thea’s chest, barely piercing her skin!

Her eyes shot open, affixed on Alteris. She smirked.

Then, she was gone.

The repellant force ceased, the room falling eerily still. Alteris collapsed, dazed and dumbfounded by what had just happened. The death rune, perhaps? No… it hadn’t triggered. Both he and Cebina would’ve felt it. He quickly looked at his arm, where the rune was - intact, as it had been. She vanished for another reason altogether. Cebina as well had braced herself for the pain that came with the rune being set off… but it never came. Thea was gone… but not dead.

“--What happened?!” he demanded, eyes narrowing at Cebina… as if she knew any more than he did.

“Pookie?”

The horror separated itself from the shadows as it was called, taking its rightful place at the Priestess’ side and awaiting its orders.

“Find Thea. Kill her.”

The shadow monstrosity made its way around the room. If Thea teleported somewhere, the Void creature would easily sense her trail and track her down. It lingered around where the Speaker’s body had been, seeming to sniff the air around, but there was no trail to be found. Cebina herself kept her shadows on high alert. Not attempting to subdue her powers anymore as she tried to detect a Void tear or portal of any kind.

“I… don’t know,” she finally admitted, “She’s not dead, but she didn’t teleport or blink away, either.”

She suddenly gasped as she realized. Thea had been in deep meditation… she’d been working harder and longer for months enhancing her connections to the Void. Attacking her in such a out of body experience could only do one thing...

“She’s become one with the Void,” she concluded, wide eyes looking at Alteris, “We destroyed her body, but her spirit is lost in the Void. That’s why our runes didn’t go off.”

“.... Y’sure?”

Alteris continued looking around, warily. Joining with the Void wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. He much preferred the assurance of a corpse. He’d joined with the Void himself, before… and clearly that didn’t turn out to be a permanent arrangement. His ear twitched as he looked Cebina over, lips curling to a smirk. Nepen’thea was the one to pulled him from the Void; no one else among the Coterie could. Cebina, perhaps, but… she wouldn’t. Not after going through the trouble to help him kill her. That was, more or less, what they did.

“She’s good as dead, if that’s true, lass.” he chuckled. “Think we did it.”

The room was already a mess, but Alteris set immediately to trashing the place further; yanking down drapery, scattering clothes… then dousing every soft fabric thing in alcohol by pouring it out. It wasn’t hard to figure out his next move.

Cebina simply watched him, silently. Pookie had returned to her side, emitting some strange mix of a growl and a purr as the Priestess gently scratched the top of its head. This wasn’t at all how she’d imagined the scenario playing out. A less obvious murder scene would have been preferred, but there would be none of that with Alteris.

Obviously, he wasn’t the type to think ahead very far.

“So what’s the plan, Sweetie? Where do we go from here?”

She was curious as to what was going through his head.

“... We?”

Alteris raised his brow, as he emptied out the last of the alcohol onto the lavish bed in the corner. He shrugged at Cebina, passing her by as he headed for the door.

“She’s fuckin’ dead, now. I’m free, lass. I’m gone.” he explained. “Th’plan now is t’burn this shithole down, and ne’er look back.”

He was polite enough, at least, to wave Cebina out of Nepen’thea’s encampment before lighting the match and tossing it into the volatile room. But he was clearly eager to - fingers twisting and spinning the match stick around, in anticipation.

“You oughta do th’ same.”

Cebina frowned, waving aberration back to the shadows as she followed Alteris out the door. She wasn’t about to stop him from burning down evidence, after all.

“We had a deal, Alteris,” she reminded him, hands finding their places on her hips, “I help you gain your freedom, you help get me off the chopping block. Brent is going to be furious, and, unlike with you, your big kodo of a sister won’t hesitate to cut me down. If you won’t take me with you, at least make it look like I tried to fight you off.”

Alteris scoffed! He let out a light chuckle, as he tossed the match in through the doorway - the room ignited quickly.

“Can’t help if y’still want in good with these people, aye? Brent’ll be huntin’ me down. An’ Kai’s gonna be fuckin’ pissed, family ties aside.” He shrugged. “Y’want off th’ choppin’ block? Do what I suggest; disappear.”

Swiftly, he tucked his matchbook and cigarette case back into his pocket, and turned to leave.

“Deal’s done. Nice knowin’ yeh.”

Cebina did nothing to stop Alteris from walking away, though she did look awfully put out; arms crossed and eyes narrowed. She let out a sigh as the shadows around her body slipped away.

“Thanks for burning the evidence, at least, Sweetie.”

While part of her was frustrated at Alteris’ unwillingness to hold up his end of the deal, the situation could have been much worse. All evidence of Cebina being part of this whole event was currently up in flames. All she had to do was make up a story about being away investigating a disturbance, returning only to see Alteris fleeing the scene. Brent would automatically blame him anyway.

She turned to face the burning building, arms remaining crossed over her chest, hip sticking out. Then, she smiled as she enjoyed watching The Speaker’s home burn just a little longer. Finally, she brought a hand to touch the ring on her finger, activating the communication rune beneath it.

“Brent! Kai!” She made certain her voice sounded alarmed and out of breath, “It’s an emergency!”

#Character Story #nepen'thea dusksinger #Alteris Sunwhisper #Cebina Ruavin #Old God Cultist shenanigans

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keeroo92 · 5 years ago

Text

Savior, Bloodstain, Hellfire, Shadow Ch31 (V x Reader)

Chapter 31 Never Surrender

This is a long one, folks. Enjoy!

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June 13th, 1:24 pm

The floor is so ridged you struggle to keep your footing, the structure of the Qlipoth doing its best to slow your advance. To the right, you can see several enormous columns, grey and cratered surfaces reminding you of the moon. A red haze colors the air like smoke at a concert, the scent of blood heavy in the peculiar lighting. Light and shadow dance across the wall to your left, its stony surface broken periodically by intimidating protrusions. A low howl echoes faintly like wind in a canyon, emphasizing the massive scale of the tree.

All in all, it’s the most nightmarish landscape you’ve ever seen.

The greyish light breaks suddenly as tiny purple flames flicker to life from within black cylinders on the ground like gaudy Halloween candles, casting a faint glow around them as you and V pass. You shiver with unease, the flames feeling all too much like the tree itself is acknowledging your presence. You spot several more clusters of the lights as you follow V, your apprehension growing with each one.

You deliberately look up, focusing on something else in a futile attempt to ease the sensation. Your eyes widen as you take in the sight of a twisted tendril overhead, its visage red and fluid as it brings its supply of blood inward. If it had been even remotely close enough to reach, you would have enjoyed slicing it in half, but it’s out of reach and you move on.

Ahead, you see a shadowy cavern past a rocky lip you’ll have to climb over. Dark shapes are outlined in the shifting fog and your apprehension heightens ever higher as you take V’s hand and follow him over the ledge.

Even more of the purple lights appear, more than you’ve seen to this point altogether. The overwhelming urge to turn back, to find a different route, to flee and never return to this place rushes through you. V’s cracked fingers leave yours as he stumbles, grunting in pain as he catches himself with his cane. Your heart aches as he clenches his jaw and steps into the mist resolutely.

This isn’t right… something here feels off.

The dark shapes you had spotted earlier suddenly light up with yet more of that strange purple hue, concentric circles illuminated on the surface of what looks like rocks. The carvings seem deliberate, ritualistic, even and you freeze, your apprehension and gut feeling of wrongness blooming into a flower in your mind as V limps onward.

“V, wait I think—” you begin, only to watch as his frail body goes rigid, his throat letting out an agonized scream as three clouds of black shards explode from his writhing body and float away. He collapses like a marionette with its strings cut and you sprint to his side, heedless of the trap in your concern.

You slide next to him and roll him face up, watching fearfully as his eyes twitch unnaturally beneath his snow-white hair. His pulse is racing, pounding out a rhythm against your fingertips that makes you clench with anxiety. Despite your terror, you can’t help but notice once again how beautiful he is. The pale hair contrasts with his dark brows, making his eyes even more intense than normal. His pale arms look longer, leaner without the dark markings you’ve become so used to on his body. A low whine of pain escapes his parted lips and you stroke his hair, trying to soothe whatever challenge he faces.

You are helpless as he fights the battle within his mind.

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V blinks heavily; his eyelids feel like they’ve been glued shut. His limbs feel heavy, so heavy he can barely move them. The dirt under his cheek is rough, the tiny grains getting embedded in the tiny cracks throughout his flesh as he stirs. His last sight before he had lost consciousness was of Malphas laughing, her demonic elation echoing in the air as she vanished. Now, however, she is nowhere to be seen. He painfully lifts himself to his knees, reaching out to grasp his reliable cane and noticing the strange paleness of his arms with a gasp of panic.

He feels nothing from Griffon, Shadow or Nightmare when he probes the connection. He has never been cut off from them so thoroughly, never felt such emptiness in his mind, such silence. The all-too-familiar hurt and aching loneliness of isolation washes over him, reminding him forcefully of all the times throughout his life, both as Vergil and as V, when he has felt abandoned or forgotten. Unimportant. Solitary.

He has never felt so alone.

Then he realizes you aren’t there and his stomach rolls in fear as the void threatens to swallow him whole.

No… where is she?! What happened?

His wide eyes scan the area, trying to discern his location. There’s mist hanging in the air, a heavy silence compounding the strangeness of his surroundings as he rises to his feet, grunting as he leans over his cane. Low purple light illuminates the area, casting sharp shadows from the monumental piles of crystalline rock nearby. Several more misshapen stones float ominously above like sentinels, watching his every move. The same patterned carvings cover each stone in circles.

This isn’t real…

Looking into the distance confirms his suspicions – the view fades to a flat grey, the illusion not fleshed out enough to have any background details. He lets out a low groan and his shoulders sag in dismay, knowing how difficult it can be to break this kind of demonic trap.

Am I in a different dimension? Have I been transported physically or only mentally?

V closes his eyes as he feels a soft touch in his hair, a low pressure that feels exactly like you were there stroking his locks lazily. He even smells you in the damp air for a moment.

She must be near my body, then. And in good enough of a state to be trying to comfort me.

He lets out the breath he’d been holding, grateful beyond all sense of the word that you hadn’t been dragged inside this mess with him. The ghostly sensation of your fingers in his hair helps him center his mind, the gears turning as he focuses on how to escape. Glancing at his arms again, mystified by his friends’ disappearance, he realizes how much smoother the skin looks. The cracks, while not gone, have faded.

“This dimension its... healing my body...” he murmurs to himself wonderingly. If it weren’t for his concern for you and his hurry to reach Urizen in time, he might have considered staying a while, gathering his strength. Instead, he moves forward toward the light, his steps and cane echoing loudly into the silence.

Three massive structures stand before him, all featuring a shimmery portal lit from deep within with the same faint purple hue and a statue of a massive demon guarding the portals beneath them. He chooses left, Cavaliere Angelo’s portal. It leads into a tunnel, dark and shadowed except for the persistent violet glow farther ahead. He stumbles forward, struggling to walk. At one point he finds himself so out of breath that he has to stop, taking a moment to rest before he can continue.

So weak… so powerless.

He disgustedly forces himself onward, sandals slapping against the uneven floor. With a flash of white light he reaches a new chamber, this one far more barren than the last but the heavy mist even thicker than before. In the center of the round area he finds three pulsing spheres – Griffon, Shadow, and Nightmare.

“So, this is where they are... I'm claiming what's mine,” he snarls, holding his hand above the sphere that resonates strongly as Griffon in his mind. The other two spheres vanish as if they’d never been there to begin with the moment his tattoos darken to mark Griffon’s return. He feels their bond flash back into existence, the bird’s worry crashing through in a tidal wave. He turns to see a statue of Cavaliere Angelo crackle to life, its weapon glowing as it advances on him. With a flick of his hand, Griffon materializes in a burst of black.

“Hey, you're alive! Oh, good to see ya again! Did ya miss me?” Griffon caws from overhead, and he smirks at the familiar gravely tone in his friend’s voice. The bird makes a sound of alarm as he spots the enemy approaching, instantly going on the offensive and shooting forward to rake his talons across its face.

V feels pressure on his lips – a kiss? His heart warms with the knowledge that you’re on the other side waiting for him to return, and he focuses anew on the fight, determined not to keep you waiting any longer than he must.

______________________________________________________________

You pull away from V’s lips and sigh. Nothing seems to be having much of an impact. His hands clench periodically, his chest heaving with struggling breath, yet none of his reactions seem related to your desperate attempts to bring him back to you.

Suddenly, he cries out in pain. You see his body flinch left as if he’s been hit on the right side and watch carefully to see if any blood appears. A long moment passes before you realize your mistake – its dim and he’s wearing black. You reach out and feel under the fabric of his vest gently, only to feel a wet area on his emaciated ribs. You shudder as you pull back, already shrugging your backpack off in preparation to treat the mysterious injury.

What the shit is going on…

You cross your fingers as you unlace his vest, tugging it away from the wet area slowly. You can barely see in the horrible lighting, but from the small amount of blood you can tell the wound isn’t deep enough to need stitches. You wipe away the crimson fluid with a fresh towel, revealing a short cut against his ribs. You clean it quickly, the motions second nature to your practiced hands. You’re just debating how to cover it best when V flinches again, this time his right leg pulling sharply against his torso as he cries out in pain.

Dammit! Not another one…

You hastily cover his rib injury with a small patch of gauze, sealing it in place with some medical tape. His leg is harder to check; you struggle to get his pants out of the way but breathe a sigh of relief to find only a fresh bruise forming. You return to cradling his body against your own, stroking his hair and pressing kisses to his forehead, worried and waiting for the next flinch to mark the injury of the man you love.

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The tall Angelo fades quickly, the silence returning as he catches his breath after the strenuous battle. His rib seems alright, a slight tingle a few moments ago but he doesn’t see any blood. His leg has the beginnings of a bruise, but the skin isn’t even broken. All things considered, he’d been exceedingly fortunate. A press of warmth against his forehead makes him smile gently, your tender affection helping him focus once again.

“That's one down...” he rumbles, pulling Griffon back within his body as the mist clears to reveal the three paths again, the one on the left now unlit and crumbled.

Is this really the best you can do, Malphas?

He takes the center portal this time, emerging from the harsh glare to find another round chamber, mist pressing against him on all sides. The area is almost completely dark, save for a shaft of light that falls on the two spheres of Shadow and Nightmare and the brightly lit portal behind him. He pauses, taking a closer look at his surroundings before making his choice.

It’s easy to spot the foe above him, the grey form illuminated in the shaft of light. It has six arms, harsh blades lining the edges. Its body resembles a human woman but ends with a fish-like tail. The lower half of her face appears normal, but the top half seems to be made of segments of crab legs. He has never encountered this type of demon before.

When in doubt, purr it out.

What?

Save the cat, doofus. Shadow’s more reliable than Nightmare.

Ah, fair point.

V approaches the reddish sphere, holding his palm over it to revive Shadow. She bursts forth with a roar, angrily yowling her displeasure at being stolen as the floating enemy crackles to life with an explosion of light, at long last illuminating the dim area to reveal what he had expected – a few shards of crystal carved with the same circular pattern beneath the enemy like a throne. Widening his gaze, V notes the treelike shapes in the foggy background and the slabs of stone to his left and right, resembling tombstones.

A warm weight over his chest; you’re lying over his heartbeat, probably listening to it to check his health. He smiles at the image in his mind and focuses on the fight, desperate to return to your side.

Shadow and Griffon attack ferociously, lightning and black tendrils fill the air as they deal considerable damage to the floating form. It lets out an ear-splitting shriek and emits a wave of lights, coming straight for him. He dodges the first wave easily enough but doesn’t spot the second as quickly. He tries to dodge again, but one of the bolts hits his bicep and he grunts in pain.

______________________________________________________________

Another flinch, this one the worst so far. You sit up quickly from where your head had been resting over V’s heart, scanning his body for the hit and spotting a dark stain on his left bicep within seconds. You hold up his arm to get a better look and a wave of bile rises in your throat as you see the shiny skin, a harsh second degree burn damaging the cracked flesh.

Shit, that’s not good!

You carefully lay his arm back down and gather everything you’ll need; burn cream, gauze, bandages and antiseptic. V doesn’t seem to notice as you pour the antiseptic over the area, a silver lining to his strange status. You apply the cream liberally, taking care to not pop the still-forming blisters as you go. The wrapping is easy, the gauze held in place by the burn cream as you wind the roll around his arm gently. You don’t even bother putting your supplies away, imagining you’ll probably need them yet again before this is over.

I wonder if he can hear me…

You shrug, deciding it can’t hurt to try and lean down to his ear.

“V, whatever’s going on is hurting you out here! Be careful!” you whisper urgently in his ear. A small frown twists his lips, a low grunt escaping between them.

That seems promising…

“I’m right here waiting for you, I’ll take care of you on this end. Just get back as soon as you can, my poet,” you whisper with a hopeful surge growing in your chest. Again, he seems to hear you and a small smile crosses his face.

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As the last echoes of the feminine demon fade, he hears your voice in his mind.

Just get back as soon as you can, my poet…

He smiles grimly, grateful for the reassurance and the warning that his body was indeed feeling the effects of whatever happened here. He’d had his suspicions, but the confirmation was nice. Once more he finds himself staring at the three portals, now only one still lit. He steps forward, determined to finish this.

Once the flash of light fades, he pinches the bridge of his nose at the sight of Goliath waiting for him to revive Nightmare. At the very least, he’s grateful none of the foes have appeared to be at their full strength, only pale echoes of their former selves.

No point waiting…

He approaches the last sphere and extends his hand, his hair darkening as Nightmare returns. He instantly starts running as Goliath comes to life with a powerful roar, his arms swinging already as he spots his hastily limping form. V flicks his arm out, a storm of black leaving his skin to form Griffon and Shadow. He leaps as Goliath charges, Griffon’s talons taking his weight and lifting him aside to safety as Shadow sprints forward. At his mental command she uses her most devastating attack, shifting into a ball and shooting spikes out in every direction. Yet more of the dark tendrils erupt from the floor, skewering Goliath. He hears your voice in his mind, feels your warm hand caressing his face and smiles.

Whatever you’re dealing with, you can beat it! I love you!

Griffon sets him down at the edge of the battle, his feathered form already building with electricity. He shoots forward and howls, letting loose wave after wave of lightning strikes around the outnumbered foe. Goliath swats at the pesky avian, his massive fist sending the blue bird tumbling. Shadow swipes her lethal claws against him but he ignores her to charge straight at V with a snarl, intent on crushing the lean poet’s form into jelly.

______________________________________________________________

You watch worriedly as V fights some invisible foe. His eyes twitch chaotically under his still closed lids, his skin and hair still stubbornly pale. A gasp of pain makes your heart sink, your eyes already scanning his lean frame for whatever his newest injury is. You cringe in sympathy as you spot his left ring finger bent to an unnatural angle, clearly broken.

“Oh, my poor poet…” you mumble, reaching for your bag yet again.

Not having a splint available, you pull out a pen instead. Again, you’re grateful for V’s odd status as you forcefully pull his finger back into its normal shape and he doesn’t so much as grunt at the normally painful experience. You gently wrap the pen against his digit, glancing periodically at his face to monitor him. A sigh escapes your parted lips as a tiny cut appears on his cheek and you go to inspect it further.

Just a scratch. Be careful, V…

You bite your lip anxiously as you wait and watch, wondering if he even can get back. Whatever it is he’s dealing with, you desperately hope he’s strong enough to survive it. You stroke his uncut cheek tenderly, kissing his sweaty forehead once more. When you rise, his eyes are blinking open, tattoos and hair darkened once more as he reaches out to you with a look of relief etching his features. Your heart sings at the sight of his emerald gaze, his dark hair and intricate tattoos restored as if they'd never been gone.

“V!” you gasp happily, already pulling him to you for a hug. He embraces you silently for a moment, taking a long sniff of your hair before he pulls back to inspect you.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” he inquires seriously. You nod and he reaches out his injured hand to stroke your cheek, his eyes locked on yours until he feels the pen wrapped against his finger and looks at it quizzically.

“You broke a finger. And you have a cut on your ribs, a bruise on your leg, a burn on your bicep, and a scratch on your cheek. I treated everything that needed it,” you relay to him, the list of injuries thankfully minor.

“Ah. Thank you, little fox,” he replies with a smile.

“Where were you? What happened?” you probe curiously. He grunts and rises to his feet, seeming a little stronger than before. You hastily pack your bag and join him, impatient for his answer.

“I’m not sure where I was, but it was a relatively simple test. Malphas separated me from Griffon, Shadow and Nightmare. Each time I regained one of them, I had to do battle. Oddly enough, I believe the location restored some of my strength,” he explains softly, stepping forward.

It's only as you begin walking away from the cavern that you notice the carved rocks are shattered, destroyed somehow while V was trapped. He does seem a little stronger for a time, but it fades quickly and soon enough he's already panting, cane faithfully taking his weight as you move onward to face Urizen. You enter another vast cavern and you catch your breath at the horrors it holds.

An expansive network of smaller tendrils extend from the ceiling to the floor, transporting blood ever farther within the Qlipoth. A few enormous vines dominate the landscape, their visages pulsating in a mockery of a heartbeat. A honeycomb structure pulses within the vast arrangement, each segment glowing dimly with eerie white light. The all too familiar shape of smaller roots blocks the way forward, but a quick exploration leads you and V to the bead of blood that destroys them and you pass without incident.

You can’t help but stare at the black bracken overhead, the thin branches forming more honeycomb patterns. The passage continues forward in the same manner for a time until you reach a darker section with several more of the ominous purple flamed candles.

“V…” you warn him, pointing. He sets his lips in a firm line and grimly steps toward the opening to enter the cavern beyond cautiously. You follow behind, dismay filling your mind as you notice more of the circular carvings surrounding the arching gap that V passes through. You hear a voice coming from below and shudder involuntarily at the undercurrent of darkness in the sound.

“If he reaches the fruit, it will all be over. Even Mundus failed to reign over the human world... surely we know he will not,” a chilling voice intones. V instantly crouches down, hiding as best he can on the small outcropping he perches on. You follow his lead, keeping your body low as you creep up to join him silently. With a subtle flash, Griffon materializes on his shoulder.

“Malphas! No way we can handle her, we don't have the strength!” the avian demon murmurs quietly.

Malphas? Isn’t that the demon that trapped V?

You eye the demon below warily; a dark form astride a monumentally huge bird, its flesh naked and discolored. A purple glow emits from an arrangement of carved rocks surrounding the form like a throne, the same pattern of circles yet again. You can’t see the creature’s face, but even just the rear view is enough to drive home the truth in Griffon’s words.

“I know. But we must get through this, somehow,” the poet replies under his breath. He stands, attempting to back away without being discovered, but a loose rock near his cane betrays him as it clatters to the ground below. Malphas freezes, the sound obviously having alerted her to your presence. She turns slowly and you get a glimpse of her face as you follow V back to cower against the wall.

A misshapen trio of female forms blend together to form one body, her three faces all twisted in cruel curiosity as she advances toward where you and V hide. Three pale arms extend from where shoulders would reside, the pale flesh growing darker until it’s almost black on her clawed hands.

“Ahh, an intruder perhaps? I'm coommiing...” her cold voice intones. An icy finger trails down your spine and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you sit next to V, both of you desperately trying to be as small as possible, but you know it’s no use.

She’s going to see us!

You glance at V to see his eyes clenched shut, his breath a terrified pant. His skin looks even worse in the light here, the cracks forming a complicated web of disfiguring lines across his handsome face. You scoot closer to him and take his hand, feeling for yourself how far the damage has extended as you grip his palm in a gesture of solidarity.

Whatever happens, I’m with you. You aren’t alone.

Your other hand goes to the hilt of your sword, preparing to draw and face Malphas despite the fact you’re sure it will cost you your life. What other choice do you have? If you’re going to die, you sure as hell aren’t going down without a fight.

A loud crack resounds in the air – a gunshot?

“Gotta pay attention, sweetheart!” Nero calls out.

Nero!

A powerful wave of relief washes over you, knowing Nero’s prowess is far more likely to be able to defeat Malphas. Even so, concern follows in its wake and you crawl to the edge of the lip to watch the battle unfold.

“Sparda’s kin... but you're nothing more than an empty shell with no power. You are as weak as your flesh, human,” Malphas comments to Nero dismissively. He listens impatiently, pacing slightly and catching your eye. You give him a quick thumbs up and a smile despite your misgivings and he smirks as he answers the demon.

“Hey, we're tougher than we look. But… there's only one way to find out,” he wryly tells her, resting his pistol on his shoulder lazily.

“I will enjoy this!” Malphas cackles, her arms waving in a ritualistic gesture. Her massive bird roars beneath her, its beady eyes glittering with malice as it faces your friend with spread wings.

You hear V shuffle forward to lie beside you and watch as Malphas springs into action, a cloud of purple energy condensing before her as her mount steps into it, and the portion of its body that goes inside vanishes. Confusion rattles inside your skull as your eyes search for the foe, finally spotting the head and chest of the bird emerging from another cloud closer to Nero, darting forward to strike at him. He nimbly dodges to the side with a laugh, drawing his sword and landing a heavy slash on the deformed face before it can retreat fully. It barely seems to notice as its face returns home to resume its normal hideous form.

“Try to follow me with your foolish human eyes!” Malphas cries out gleefully, the bird’s back legs entering another purple cloud to reappear to Nero’s left and kick at him. He leaps into the air, a blue circle appearing under his feet at the height of his jump. He uses it as a launching pad, soaring even higher to easily dodge Malphas’ attack.

“Anything with a nose would follow you… you stink,” Nero mocks her smugly as he lands, and you have to stifle a giggle at his wisecracking nature. You can’t catch her odor from here, but knowing demons, Nero isn’t kidding.

The young warrior leaps again, his mechanical arm glowing. He pushes it out from his body and a multitude of blue lights shoot out, ricocheting wildly off the ground to strike Malphas. His arm shatters, the force too much for it to endure, and he hastily clicks another into place as he lands. You don’t recognize the design, though truth be told you’d only be able to identify Bladestorm on sight.

Malphas moves her arms in another intricate pattern and a long line of angry spikes shoot out of the floor toward Nero. Your friend seems invincible as he performs a hands-free cartwheel out of danger, his whoop evidence of his enjoyment. He hops as he ejects his mechanical arm in a flurry of orange sparks, the red and black contraption rocketing forward on its own small jet of flame to hit Malphas before returning to Nero. Instead of reattaching it, he jumps astride it and rides it forward like a skateboard. He angles the flames carefully, executing an elaborate end-over-end spin in midair as he streaks past the oversized avian mount.

Your heart stops beating as he loses control of the rocket propelled arm, falling off as it continues forward to explode against the wall of the arena with a fiery boom. He launches himself to his feet one-handed, already equipping the next arm in his arsenal.

He draws his sword as Malphas casts again, another purple cloud signaling her intention. He grasps his sword with both hands and brings it down in a powerful strike, the blade lighting up with power as he grins maniacally. The moment Malphas appears through the purple cloud, he strikes with a dizzying array of sideways strikes, slicing the mottled flesh of the bird’s leg repeatedly and ending with a flip to give even more power to his descending blade. The bird screeches angrily and retreats yet again.

“Game over, birdie,” the young warrior quips.

A veritable storm of purple clouds erupt across the arena, a beak or leg appearing through one after another and striking at Nero so rapidly you’re amazed that he only gets a small scratch from a claw as he rolls away. The clouds vanish and Malphas growls darkly as the bird turns almost black, its desiccated flesh shining with wetness as she charges at Nero. The movement is far too fast, the enraged demon able to leap forward much quicker in the force of its wrath. Nero does his best to dodge, but even he can’t escape this.

His cry of pain is like a knife to the gut, his desperation evident as he takes the hit. Once he’s beneath her, Malphas jumps on his prone form, trying to break him in half. He uses his mechanical arm to guard his face, the metal taking the force and shattering instantly in place of his skull.

He’s going to get killed! He can’t do this alone!

You reach for your own sword even as the metallic taste of terror floods your mouth, your throat constricting and stomach churning as you stand up. V’s eyes go wide beside you, his cracked skin only serving to emphasize his fear as you jump into the cavern with a shout.

“Hey asshole! Leave him alone!” you cry out, internally astonished that your voice sounds so strong and steady even as your knees shake. You raise your blade into a defensive stance as Malphas turns to face you, cackling as she leaves Nero’s bruised body behind. He doesn’t look good, but miraculously stands the moment she’s distracted. He shoots you a look of alarm as he spots you facing the demon that had almost just killed him.

Nero roars as he streaks forward, his blade aflame and swinging wildly at the demonic bird. It sinks deeply into its flesh, leaving a canyon behind as he rips it away and strikes again. Your trembling legs somehow carry you forward to mirror his attacks on the other side, slicing through the tender flesh of the creature’s belly.

Malphas cries out in pain, opening another cloud overhead and jumping within to escape the joint attack. She vanishes, and you look to Nero worriedly to see blood caking his chest, a fresh wound on his collarbone and bruises already blooming on his face.

“What the hell are you thinking, Y/N? You’re gonna get yourself killed!” he shouts at you. Defiant anger pools in your stomach, overriding your terror long enough to respond.

“You were in trouble! I couldn’t just do nothing!” you exclaim angrily.

Suddenly Malphas has your full attention as she reappears in the center of the cavern, bird nowhere to be seen as she gestures another spell.

“Resurrect! Rise with my power!” she cries, and the floor around her bubbles black as if Nightmare were on its way. The carved stones around her glow with eerie purple light as the air around her churns, small stones floating in the force of her casting.

“Don't wanna give up the ghost, do ya!?” Nero yells, already sprinting toward her. You hang back; Nero seems well enough to finish this himself, and despite how much you want to help him you are painfully aware that Malphas is far out of your league.

Your friend pummels her with his blade as the whirlwind intensifies, his battle cries ringing in the air as he lines her body with cuts. The cacophony reaches a crescendo and the bird violently emerges underneath her with a howl.

Nero flies back with the force of the creature’s return, tumbling until he comes to a stop. He stands quickly, igniting his blade as he advances once more. His last mechanical arm glows and he presses a small button on the side. A wave of purple light bursts forth and Malphas slows significantly as Nero reaches her, his flaming blade still moving at full speed as he brutally cleaves her flesh. The effect doesn’t last long, and he jumps back as Malphas returns to full speed, narrowly avoiding a feeble strike from her mount.

“How do you have such power left!?” she begs, clearly near her end. Nero doesn’t deign to respond, only slinging his sword onto his back once more and drawing his pistol to fire a single bullet into her chest. She turns grey and disintegrates, finally defeated. For a long moment all you hear is your own blood rushing in your ears as the adrenaline fades, Nero's signature heavy trod approaching you eventually breaking through the sound.

“You can come out now,” Nero calls to V. The poet is already on his way down, Griffon carefully lowering him to join you. Despite the blue bird’s care, V still lands heavily in a crouch, grunting. You trot over to him as he brings himself up to stand, his cane taking the brunt of his weight.

“I guess we owe you one,” he comments ruefully as you reach his side. Nero watches with concern, eyes sweeping over the cracked and damaged flesh with a scowl.

“You should turn around. Your body's not gonna last much longer,” Nero advises. You almost roll your eyes, wishing that were an option.

“That... I cannot do. I must go,” V replies tiredly. He collapses again with a pained sigh, and you take his arm over your shoulders to lift him up again. He gives you a grateful smile, his arm leaning on you heavily.

“Damn it, V! Don't push yourself. You need some rest,” Nero exclaims in frustration. It’s difficult to keep V standing now, his body clearly fading fast. Your heart stutters painfully at the thought.

No… he has to be okay! He’ll be fine once Urizen is gone, we just have to finish this!

“I must go... to where Urizen is,” V pants, gasping for air. Nero scowls even deeper, his brows a tight line of irritation at the poet’s insistence.

“Why? Why the hell do you have to be there wh—” Nero starts, but V interrupts him quickly. His words shock you to your core, sending panic racing through your mind at the defeat in his voice.

“I beg you! This is my last request,” he pleads earnestly. You look at his face to see the fear and worry within his emerald eyes, the cracks on his skin so prevalent you can no longer find a smooth section. Nero relents, gritting his teeth and joining you on V’s other side to take his other arm over his own shoulders. The three of you step forward slowly, V weakly hanging on as best he can.

“Fine. Dante's definitely gonna beat us there...” Nero murmurs sadly, and you swallow heavily to stop yourself from breaking down, the sobs biding their time in your chest until you can no longer hold them in. Even so, your breath hitches periodically as you carry V to his other half, your mind desperately trying to convince you this will all turn out alright. You can't hold your tongue for long, unable to accept V's surrender.

"V, you're going to be fine. Don't give up now, not when we're so damn close," you urge him.

"Yeah, man! We have a solid plan, we'll all be laughing about this bullshit next week," Nero adds helpfully. V sighs, hanging his head as if it's too heavy for his neck to support anymore.

"The just man kept his course along the vale of death," the poet recites sadly. You let out a shaky breath, searching for the words that will bring him hope. Several lines from The Book of Thel cross your mind, but eventually you settle on something else, a line from V's book that had resonated deeply within you during your travels.

"Arise, and pull the tyrant down," you throw back at him defiantly, and he chuckles grimly.

"Ah... well played, my love. Still, I... I grow weaker by the moment," he responds sadly.

You stop moving, forcing him and Nero to halt so V pays you the proper attention. Why this is so hard for him to believe, you have no idea. But he has to, has to try...

"Like I said before, there could be all kinds of reasons for that. Just because you feel weaker in body doesn't mean you're weaker in spirit. Tell Griffon if he doesn't send you a bunch of good memories I'll pluck him and put him on a rotisserie. V, I know it isn't easy to stay hopeful. I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through, but you are not alone. And if you let yourself die after all this, I'm going to be pissed," you inform him seriously, staring deep into his emerald gaze.

He smirks, then barks out a laugh. The weight he rests on your shoulders lightens marginally as he takes a little of it onto himself.

Thank you, Griffon...

"I'd hate for you to be angry with me, little fox. I'll do my best to emulate your example," he announces, equally serious.

"You'd better..." you mumble, shifting his arm slightly and continuing the advance.

#dmc5 v #dmc5 #dmc #dmcv #fanfic #my writing #op #v x reader #v x you #angst #dmc nero #SBHS #vitale

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talesfromthegameff14 · 6 years ago

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Dominion

[ Uyagir headcannon incoming. Based loosely on the quotes found in game for one extremist branch of the tribe. Warnings for length, blood rituals, grey lore bits.] Anger smoldered in his veins as Ayanga ran from the Dawn Throne toward the Uyagir caves. He wore what the Uyagir typically wore, but dyed the color of the sky instead of the bleached out green the cave dwellers preferred. The loose skirt flowed easily with his movements as he ran into the wind that caused the spring grasses to undulate like waves on the ocean.

The sun was a thin sliver on the horizon when he arrived at the caves, breathing faster from the run but not heavily winded. The strangeness of running to what he had spent most of his life running from was lost on him in the moment. There was no doubt now, no hesitation. He was done with waiting and doubting. The promise that was broken? It was washed away by the blood on his hands. His only regret was that it took him this long to see it. Fortunately his sisters were wise and as A’sana pointed out, sometimes promises needed to be broken. By the time he strode into the main caves he was breathing more normally, the sweat from the run drying on his skin rapidly due to the desert air. The main cave was empty this early, most still with their families tucked away in the nooks and corners that gave an illusion of privacy as they tended to their morning tasks. The smell of cooking food was the only outward sign of that activity and Ayanga’s stomach growled in protest from the scent of even that plain fare. It’s another thing that goes unnoticed, his attention focused on a cluster of stalagmites in the back of the main cave. He’s a few fulms from his goal when the Elder stepped out from the shadows, blocking Ayanga’s way. The green haired man snaps at the Elder, <”Are you finally going to try to stop me?”> The younger man only stopped when he’s ilms from the Elder, tail cutting sharply through the air. The Elder can move, or be moved, it matters little to Ayanga. [Voodoo - Godsmack] For once, there was no humor in the old xaela’s eyes, no sense of the queerness that typically colored his words. <”Son of Ancients, what do you seek?”> Frozen in place, Ayanga stared at the Elder, for a moment everything was so sharp and fragile he didn’t dare to breathe. <”No one...”>, he cut himself off, shaking his head once to clear it before he answered. <”Wisdom, knowledge, the visions of our past that brought us to this place.”> The words were spoken with the cadence of ritual, but oddly cut off at the end. The Elder tilted his head slightly at the answer, seemingly waiting for more than what was said. The silence between the two men grows, Ayanga not backing down from the quiet challenge. He stayed as still as the air in the caves, not even his tail twitched while he waited. The Elder’s eyes moved to the necklace around the younger man’s neck, thoughtful. At that the silence was broken, a low sound of warning coming from Ayanga, <”It is mine. He gave it to me.”> That brought the white glazed eyes of the Elder abruptly up to Ayanga’s. <”Who gave it to you?”> <”Oktai”> <”You didn’t take it from-”> <”I took nothing of hers.”>, the snarled reply cutting the Elder off. <”When did he give it to you?”> <”Just before he died.”> The Elder’s rheumy eyes narrow, <”Where?”> <”Reflection”> A hiss follows that answer, <”Why there? How?”> <”He called me there.”> <”You were a b”> <”I know.”> Ayanga leans in, leaving less than an ilm between the two men, so that the elder could feel the heat of his words instead of only hearing it. <”He called me there in a dream. I woke up and followed the call down and through the labyrinth. I saw him reflected in the pool, surrounded by stars. I smelt death on his breath. It had the same scent as an herb Odtgerel traveled to Reunion to get. She told me to stay away from it, that it was dangerous, only for the trained. She killed him.”> <”You didn’t take it from her.”> <”No! It rots with her corpse in whatever forgotten place it lies.”> <”How do you know she’s-”> <”Dead? I buried her.”> <”Where?”> <”Why does it matter?”> <”I need to reclaim what she was given.”> <”Did you not listen? She was given nothing. She gave nothing to her family and was given nothing in return.”> <”But she-”> Wind blew through the cavern then, enough force behind it to travel past the entrance and into the main living space, rustling the clothing of those that were starting to gather for the day’s work. It was an oddity, enough of one to catch the attention of those present and give the Elder pause. Ayanga’s eyes turned distant, a horn tilted towards the cave entrance. As if in a trance he reached up and pressed the point of a claw into his thumb, just enough to draw up a bead of blood. <”You hear, but you do not listen. If you will not listen, you will see.”>, he whispered, pressing that drop of blood against the Elder’s forehead before he could react. The all but useless eyes of the old xaela glazed over and he fell to his knees, eyes darting back and forth focused things only he could see. Ayanga stepped around him and past the concealment of the stalagmites and into the tunnel that led to the labyrinth. He didn’t have to think, even with close to thirty years behind him Ayanga’s feet traveled the correct path through the tunnels, the passageway progressively narrowing until he had to belly crawl to get through the last turn. It was a near thing, a shudder passing through his entire frame when he accidentally scrapped a horn along a sharp bit of rock, popping off one of the ornaments he suffered through getting long ago. The tunnel opened up then, and he hauled himself up to his feet. <”Smaller than I remember.”>, he said to himself just before words echoed into the chamber from afar. <”Elder, are you alright?”> <”Where did Khe..Ayanga go?”> indistinct words <”Seer’s tunnel? We can’t follow, no one can.”> The last had Ayanga looking back to the hole he crawled out of, shock easy to read in his expression. No one at all? There were no more? How...? It clicked into place and sorrow replaced the shock. <”I’ll do as I must, regardless.”> The tunnel branched off into two, a strong scent of mineral and heat coming from one path and stillness from the other. Following the heat, Ayanga stripped as he went, arriving at the mineral pool clad in only the necklace Oktai gave him. The clothing was set to the side, neatly folded as always. The occasional bubble broke the surface of the pool, hidden by the shadows cast from the glowing crystals set into the walls. The air was quickly becoming stifling, the heat and humidity making it feel like lead in his lungs. The water was scalding, which was the point. Wash away what could be, burn away the rest, enter Reflection purified, the burdens of life sloughed away in a moment of pain. Knowing that didn’t make stepping into the pool any easier. Measured steps, down the ones carved into the stone just for this purpose. One step, wait, two steps, wait, three steps, wait. At the bottom step his shoulders were still above water and with a deep breath Ayanga bent his knees and burned. It was worse than the harae in Ishgard, he thought it wouldn’t be, but the minerals in the water burned as well as the heat. He needed to breathe, it was only seconds to stay, but the pain took his breath away. Even with the support of the water he swayed beneath the surface, spots blooming behind his eyelids as he counted out the seconds. It took all of his will power to slowly unbend his knees, it was mere seconds, but it felt like hours were spent under the water. The need to walk out tangled with the need to breathe and recover, slow was the only way he was going back up those steps. The tall man landed heavily on his hands and knees, bruising them on the rock and sand surface that bordered the pool. Instinct kept him moving, crawling out into the cooler air of the tunnel beyond. His skin was darker, flushed from the damage heat and minerals did while he was submersed. Ayanga’s mind was clear of the anger that brought him here, pain was good for that. In, out, in, out. All the Xaela could do was breathe in great gulps of air, staying where he fell as his body processed the shock of the cleansing. It was habit, refined in Doma, grounded in the time spent with his Grandfather. Burnt fingers pressed hard against the stone, seeking out the steady support of the earth. The wind spoke to him, but the ground was still under his feet and therefor a friend. When his breathing slowed and his heart stopped thundering in his chest, Ayanga stood up. His movements were deliberate and measured, both out of need and respect. This was not something to rush. Each step took him closer to Reflection, the tunnel here was smoothed over, the work of Seers past making the path upwards clear and easy. It was almost as he remembered. It was daytime, not night, his own choice instead of the traditional one. He was a child of Azim as well as the caves, the sun held no fear for him. The bright light of midday streamed through the broken roof of the cave, filtering down through the sphere of crystals suspended above the strangely still pool. That night it looked like liquid silver, now it looked just as odd, golden and rainbow hued as the sunlight reflected off of a surface that was iridescent, strange. Many runes were carved into the smooth, dark, rock floor. They were clustered around the perfectly circular pool, extending out a couple of fulms. Most of the space closest to the pool was decorated by the carvings, the ones closest to the pool were harder to read than those further out. One rune stood out from the rest, larger than the surrounding ones, stained and worn by age but still clear enough to read. Dominion. It was something he knew from the murals, the dominion of the Gods over the Xaela and why the Uyagir bowed. But, this was different. A different slant here, a curve there instead of a straight line. Ways of indicating Xaela instead of deity, familiar and very wrong all at the same time. A quick look around the smooth, upward curving walls of the cave pulled a detail from memory. This is where Oktai died, the stains? Only his blood, or more? Ayanga knelt in front of the rune,the burn of protest from the skin along his shins completely ignored in the moment. A finger traced the deep channels that were chiseled into the rock, ensuring that the rune would last the test of time. But maybe? Maybe it was for other reasons. The air was lifeless, immobile in the dome, but a whisper echoed in his horns regardless. Right claw was brought to the skin of his left wrist. The cut was swift and sure, the burn of the cut strangely intense due to the damage already done. He ignored it, holding his wrist so the blood from it dropped into the bottom corner of the carving. The floor of the cave slanted towards the pool, the slope allowing his aether charged blood to flow through the markings that made up the rune. Slowly, steadily, Ayanga’s world narrowed down to the path his blood took. Tracing it like that, he could see the duality of the rune, it wasn’t just Xaela. It was, Reflection within Dominion. The first rune revealed before the other was completed. Further the scarlet line flowed, steadily drawing his focus towards the pool. The blood was moving slowly then, the last of the rune completed. A narrow gouge, unnoticed until his blood touched it, allowed a few drops of blood to reach the pools edge. The water was lower than the rock, cohesion causing the scarlet liquid to tremble on the ledge. Time meant nothing as Ayanga’s heart pounded in his chest, everything hanging on that one, tremulous drop of blood. One more heartbeat, a bit more blood, and the bead to welled over to plop into the pool. [Change on the Rise - Avi Kaplan] A skeletal hand reached towards him, “It is time to see.” “Oktai, grandfather...”, Ayanga whispered, reaching for the hand only he could see through sightless eyes. The ray of sunlight shifted, illuminating the scarred hand that grasped nothing but air. Then Ayanga saw. Birth, life, death, the onward monotony of life within the caves droning backwards and backwards. Brief conflicts, rebellions, stained the caves red, but they were quickly settled, tumbling into a past rewritten by those that survived. Nothing must mar the perfection of their modesty, their pride would not allow it. The mural was tended to, shrinking in size as the years retreated within Ayanga’s mind. Seers guiding, and hiding, the truth from the tribe, teaching them to deny the violence of their nature. Dominion over self was revealed as the path of humility before the eyes of the Gods. From self reflection came control, the Uyagir over themselves and the Seers over the tribe. Reflection.

Then the walls were blank, a few battered Xaela taking shelter there from the chaos left in the wake of the Gods’ punishment. The failed defense of the Dawn Throne was crushing to all the tribes, it sent them scattering to the four winds, leaving the Uyagir to struggle against the God sent insects (machines?) all but alone. A sign the others said, a trial to show strength the Uyagir countered. If we cannot hold what is ours then we don’t deserve it. They could not hold against the wrath of the Gods. And still time marched backwards, revealing the decline of an Empire as sure as any in a more civilized place. Large to small, the peak to the beginnings, ambition and pride and a need to control that rivaled any other was steadily nurtured from the start of the tribe. That drive etched into stone when the first Khatun found the pool she saw in her dreams, that Ayanga knelt beside, and claimed it for her newly formed tribe. Dominion without Reflection.

The hand that held his vanished into the past, leaving him to crawl his way out of the memories that were not his and back to the present. It took time, more than he likely had, before Ayanga’s eyes cleared from the vision and he found himself in his own skin once more. The wound on his wrist had long scabbed over, the blood in the rune dried, the sun low enough that the sky was dark blue with the first hints of stars on the eastern horizon. The silence in the dome was complete except for the erratic beat of his heart and the rasp of his labored breath. Awareness of himself forced the tall man to double over and retch bile onto the stone, body and mind protesting what it was forced too see. It was too much that wasn’t his, the entire history of seer to seer to seer that shared the path the tribe took. The now dark pool of water called to him, promising peace within its depths, a place free from the memories that overwhelmed him. It would take little to tumble into it, but a small voice within reminded him that the trial was not yet complete. The sky was darker when he managed to gather the strength to resist the call and stand instead. Once, twice, he paced around the pool, the shakiness fading as he moved. One last thing, then he could leave. Settling on one of the last clear spots of stone near the edge of the pool, Ayanga knelt again to draw an end to his task. Reopening the cut on his wrist a bit, he dipped a claw into blood and carefully carved a new rune among the oldest made. Change.

#ffxiv rp #mateus rp #crystal data center rp #khenbish uyagir #also ayanga uyagir #OC Stories #just tribal stuff

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aamccarthy · 6 years ago

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Lucifer and Thomas - The Cherubim

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/186855778-lucifer-and-thomas

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

“Master Berith?” A low voice called out across the large cavern. The walls were lined with rocks, and within the centre of the cavern was a large steaming spring. Resting at the edge of the spring was a man and from his back sprouted four wings. The wings were golden-brown in colour and from where they connected at his shoulder blades, feathers filtered down his back and lightly speckled his upper chest. The man had his arms folded upon the edge of the spring, his face resting upon them. “Master Berith?” The voice called forth again. The man opened one golden eye, annoyed that his bath was being interrupted. Golden brown locks framed his face, with feathers coming down his cheeks like a pair of sideburn. He pursed his lips in annoyance.

“Eligos.” Berith snarled, “This better be important.” He looked up at the armoured Knight standing at the doorway. Eligos bowed, quickly delivering his report.

“Master, I have received a report that Master Leviathan was able to restore the town that you destroyed-”

“Saved.”

“Yes, Master. Saved. However, despite that there are still Summon Circles and Demons appearing on Earth. What would you like me to do? I have 60 Legions at my disposal, I could bring them to the surface and eradicate-”

“Eligos.” Berith sat up, a frown on his face as he glared at the Knight before him, “Do I look like I need to rely on the powers of the Legions?”

Eligos opened his mouth to reply, but stopped, watching as Berith’s face twisted, the feathers disappeared and golden fur emerged in its place. His face had changed from the sharp look of an Eagle, and took on the features of a Lion. Eligos immediately dropped to his hands and knees, “No, Master! Please forgive me!” Berith only ever wore his Lion Form when he was either angry or in battle.

Berith stood up from the spring, and water dripped down his body, his hands and feet had transformed into lion paws and a lions tail swished behind him in annoyance, “Did our Lord Satan, Lucifer, ask me to use the powers of the Legions to ‘tidy up this mess’?”

“No, Master! It was arrogant of me to suggest so!”

“Then,” Berith took a step forward, staring down at Eligos on the ground, “why did you suggest it?”

“It was only a suggestion, Master! Please! I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Berith looked down at his paw, opening and closing it slightly as the claws appeared and retracted in response. “Our Lord Satan, Lucifer tasked me with destroying each of those Summon Circles. His instructions were clear - if the demon came from a Legion, punish it and it’s master. If it didn’t come from a Legion, then destroy it and send it back to Hell.”

“Yes, Master. I’m very sorry.” The Knight pressed his helmeted head against the ground.

“Do not offend me again.” Berith snarled, snapping his fingers, a red and purple robe appeared on his body. He then stormed out of the room, slamming the stone door behind him with enough force that the door cracked.

Eligos held his breath until he was certain that Berith had left and breathed a sigh of relief.

Pathetic. Berith thought to himself, his golden eyes were narrowed in anger and he stormed into the man throne room. “Asmodeus! Are you here?” He bellowed.

“Brother, dear. You don’t have to yell.” A beautiful man with long golden hair appeared behind him, six wings were upon his back. Asmodeus tilted his head, looking at Berith with his green coloured, almond shaped eyes noting that Berith was in his lion form. “You seem agitated.” He mused as he straightened the white robe he wore, adjusting the golden sash tied around his waist.

“Are Lucifer and Leviathan back yet?” Beirth sat on one of eight stone chairs that lined the throne room, there were four on either side.

“No,” Asmodeus took a seat beside Beirth, watching him in interest.

“Bah.”

“Your Essence is drained.” Asmodeus tilted his head, tapping on Berith’s forehead. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Beirth simply snorted in reply, the Lion features melted away and he sat there as a normal man, albeit for the four wings that came from his back. “You must have invoked a rather large Cataclysm for that to happen.” Cataclysms were the events that the Fallen Angels, the Generals of Hell, were capable of performing, the polar opposite of an Angel’s Miracle.

Berith waved him off, “I just rained brimstone upon the Earth.”

Asmodeus eyes widened momentarily before returning to normal, “Earth is Father’s Dominion. You know that the Principalities and Rulers guard over Earth. It’s a wonder that you are even still standing.”

Beirth growled, “I know that now.” He hissed in reply, “It was simply more efficient.”

Asmodeus raised his eyebrow in question, his younger brother was definitely the more battle-hungry out of Lucifer’s Generals, but to traverse to the Earthen plane just to rain brimstone? Berith wasn’t an idiot. Battle-hungry and violent, yes, but not an idiot. He wouldn’t do something like that without reason.

“I can hear your thoughts, prettyboy.” Berith hissed, Asmodeus simply smiled in reply.

“WIll you give me an answer or should I ponder louder?” He tapped on his chin with his finger and looked at the ceiling.

“If Lucifer didn’t tell you, then you don’t need to know.” With that Berith stood up and walked out of the throne room

Asmodeus frowned as the door slammed shut. Just what was going on? First, Lucifer keeps disappearing and now Leviathan was missing. Then, today Berith had come back, barely standing and completely drained of Essence. When he attempted to assist his younger brother, Berith simply shooed him away and locked himself up in one of the Essence Caverns to recover his power. Asmodeus smiled to himself as his eyes glittered in delight, his brothers were certainly up to something, and he was going to find out what it was.

Berith had retreated back to his Kingdom on the Seventh Circle of Hell, closing his eyes he sighed in content, relishing the sounds of screams that surrounded him. Home.

Being on Earth was exhausting, and unlike Lucifer and Leviathan who were Seraphim and had larger pools of Essence, Berith, despite having fallen from the First Sphere of Heaven was still a Cherub and thus didn’t carry as much power as his two older brothers. He walked through the main gates and towards his Castle. The gates were abandoned with no guards in sight - this was something that Berith insisted on compared to the other Generals. He didn’t want guards stopping people from entering his Realm, no - quite the opposite in fact - he wanted people to trespass; just so that he could deliver punishment. Sadly though, no one ever did. There was that man one time… Dante? He decided to explore all Nine Circles of Hell, but apart from that, they had no visitors.

Stepping forward, Berith placed both hands on the heavy stone doors and pushed forward, opening them. “Sabnock!” Berith called out, Sabnock was a demon and one of the Great Marquis of Hell, who has 50 legions of demons under his command. He was an inventor of weapons and enjoyed warfare as much as Berith did. There was a swirl of black mist and a being appeared in front of Berith, bowing deeply. He had the body of a man, but a head of a horse. His chest was mostly bare except for a leather plate across his upper chest. On his back was a quiver of arrows, and from his waist hung a sword and metal, layered in a skirt.

“Welcome back, Master Berith.”

“Come, join me in the War Room. I need you to design me a weapon.”

“Yes, Sir.” Sabnock stood, following Berith down the hall. Faces leered out from the walls as cries and screams echoed around them. These walls were constructed from human souls that had committed acts of violence upon Earth and were sent to Hell as punishment.

Berith turned down the hallway before entering a large room. In the centre of the room hung a globe of the Earth. Above it was Nine golden Spheres, floating from above the globe towards the ceiling, and below the globe was a dark chasm, laid out with Nine layers. Berith sat in front of the globe at the table and stared at Sabnock. “I need a weapon capable of destroying large amounts of Summon Circles without using any Essence.”

Sabnock’s ear twitched, his brown horse eyes looked at Berith in question, but he did not ask. “It’ll be difficult to create, but it can be done. It will use mortal magic from the Imitators.”

Berith pondered for a moment, the Imitators were evil Witches and Warlocks that had been cast into Hell by Angels and while the Imitators couldn’t create Cataclysms, they were capable of performing false Miracles. It was definitely an option. “Research it for me. I want a prototype within a week. You are dismissed.”

Sabnock bowed, then vanished into black mist before floating out the door.

Berith leaned forward, crossing his fingers together and resting them under his chin. He stared at the Earth globe, watching as little flecks of blue lights pulsed on the globe. They were scattered across the entire surface of the Earth, but the area that Lucifer had tasked Berith with keeping an eye on seemed to have a higher concentration than the rest. Berith frowned, remembering when Lucifer had approached him about it.

“It’s so fucking BORING here!” Berith punched one of the screaming faces in the wall, smirking as he heard their screams get louder.

“Your decor was always interesting, little Ber.”

Berith froze at the sound of the smooth voice behind him, he turned and there, perched upon his Throne sat Lucifer, swinging his cloven hooves back and forth. Lucifer had a smirk on his face and he was tossing a black box up and down, catching it each time.

“Lucifer.” Berith immediately dropped to one knee, lowering his head and placing a fist upon the ground, “Welcome to my Realm.” It had been over 700 years since Lucifer had last stepped forth in the Seventh Circle of Hell.

“Catch.” Lucifer threw the black box at Berith and he caught it in surprise. Turning it over, he saw the carvings of screaming humans upon it.

“Is this a Pandora’s box?” Berith stood up, examining it in interest. He had heard of them before, Lucifer kept the original sealed within the Judecca Lake, but imitations and recreations had popped up from time to time. They were quite rare.

“It is.” Lucifer tapped his cheek, watching Berith with golden eyes.

“Where did you get it?”

“You know my little trip up to Earth on Christmas Day?” Berith nodded, Hell had been in an uproar when Lucifer had vanished for the most part of the day without warning. Lucifer would sometimes make trips up to Earth only for a few hours at a time, but this time he had disappeared for a day and this time, he had taken his weapon, his pitchfork Lightbringer with him. The Generals were concerned that he had attempted to enter the Heaven’s Spheres again, but thankfully he hadn’t. “I found it under a Human Christmas Tree.”

Berith frowned, and held the box up to his ear. It was empty and absent of demons. Lucifer must have cleansed it. “But how? These are valuable. You don’t just chuck them in a mortal house. Even the Rulers would keep these for times of war.”

Lucifer swung his feet around and leapt to his feet, brushing off some dust from the fur on his backside. “I want you to find out who made it, and where it came from.”

“Certainly.” Berith turned the box over in his hands, fascinated that something so small could be capable of such destruction. “Is that all, Lucifer?”

Lucifer smirked, “One other thing, Ber.”

“Yes?” Berith looked up, and saw a twinkle in Lucifer’s golden eyes. Berith smiled back in anticipation. That was the same look he had in his eyes when he first defied Father. “You did say you were bored, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Berith breathed, his eyes widening in anticipation.

“Someone is summoning demons freely and distributing Summon Circles in the human realm. I give you full permission to use your powers of Cataclysm on Earth to tidy up that mess. Locate each of the Circles and destroy them.” Lucifer raised his hand and summoned a globe before them, pointing to a section where it glowed blue, “I want you to focus on this area here. Forget about the other areas. This is where they are mostly appearing, and if we destroy enough of the Circles, we may be able to find out who is behind this. Don’t draw too much attention, I don’t want any Angels of the Sphere interfering.”

“Of course.”

“If any demons escape, find out if they came from one of the Legions of Hell, then punish it and it’s Master. If it didn’t come from a Legion, then destroy it and send it back to Hell. You are welcome to keep their Essence and Souls for yourself.”

A wicked grin spread across Berith’s face as it morphed into that of a lion. He dropped to one knee and placed his fist upon the ground, “As you Command, Lord Satan.”

“Perfect.” Lucifer smiled then turned and walked out of the room, the globe of Earth disappeared, “Oh, and Berith?”

“Yes?”

“Avoid telling our brothers about this little expedition. And don’t go too overboard. I’ve asked Leviathan to keep an eye on you.”

Berith grumbled, Leviathan was such a stuck up who had no concept of fun. He bowed his head nonetheless, “As you wish, Lord Satan.”

Lucifer nodded then stamped his cloven hoof twice and disappeared.

Berith could feel his body vibrate in excitement, his fur bristling. His times of boredom were now over.

Continue to Chapter 7

#LuciferandThomas #Lucifer and Thomas #Adventures with Lucifer and a Boy named Thomas #Lucifer Fiction #Original Story #Original Fiction #Cherubim #Berith

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hidding-in-shadows · 6 years ago

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the killer in me is the killer in you (ch. 1)

I’ve been sitting on this project for a while, but finally decided to post the first chapter which I finished last night. Please enjoy this Avatar the Last Airbender AU. More to come!

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Long ago, the four nations had lived in harmony. But everything changed when the Southern Water Tribe attacked.

The air was so cold that the mist from her attack had formed into crystals on her cheek instantly. She ignored her instinct to simply rub them away, and instead pulled the water particles from her cheek and joined them with the rush of water she pulled from the hollowed out walrus-shark tooth on her belt. Her attacker moved, curling his own water around his body before bending it into two dozen icicle daggers and rushing them her way. The girl grunted, eyes narrowing as she quickly raised an ice wall, defending herself, before slamming a foot to the ground, pushing the wall quickly towards her opponent.

“Katara!” A holler came from behind the wall, which was quickly transformed into its liquid state. “I did not travel here to have beginner moves thrown at me. I have trained you for years now, you should be using more advanced bending techniques than this.”

“Master Pakku, I apologize,” Katara said, gritting her teeth. (No matter what she tried, it wasn’t good enough.)

“It took a lot of convincing from your father to get me to travel all the way down here,” the Master Waterbender snarled, his aged face twisting into a look mixed between anger and frustration. “You may be my blood, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be soft on you. You have been using moves I taught you within our first month of training. I expect more from you.”

With his final words, Pakku stomped on the iceberg, breaking the sheet in half. He gave Katara one last stern look before bending the ocean around him, using the strong waves to glide himself across the water and towards the outline of the Southern Water Tribe. Katara could see the tall, snowy walls from where she was, a faint light glowing from the Tribe. It’s growth had been substantial in the last fifty years as the scrolls told. When Katara was born, the walls were up and the Tribe was bustling. The Chief’s home was being rebuilt, using material from the Earth Kingdom to create a skeleton of the home before waterbenders and tribespeople built the snowy and icy outer layer, decorating the home with a traditional Southern Water Tribe exterior. Now, at the age of sixteen, Katara had watched the walls be taken down and expanded three times and their simple home had transformed into a palace of ice. Northern Water Tribe people migrated South, making homes and families. Ever since their successful raid against the Fire Nation almost forty decades ago, the Southern Water Tribe was the most powerful Nation.

Which made Katara’s father, Chief Hakoda, the most powerful man.

Which made her the most powerful princess and heir to the Tribe.

(Or so, that’s what the other nations thought.)

“Katara!” A new voice rang out from across the water, breaking Katara from her thoughts. She turned towards the voice, blinking away wet tears that she didn’t realize were forming. Katara quickly rubbed her eyes with her royal blue sleeve. She watched as her brother’s fishing boat came close to the iceberg. The young man gave his little sister a lopsided smile. “I’m going to go fishing. Want to come along?”

Truthfully, all she wanted to do was stand there and watch the water sway, meditate until her heart was at a slow, steady rhythm so she could work on waterbending. Her form was getting sloppy, her temper was beginning to act up, and Master Pakku wasn’t going to let it slide forever. A few months prior to her sixteenth birthday, when had been informed of her future as Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, her bending had slipped. (She tried to push the memory that triggered the degresion of her bending far into her mind.) Everything her master had taught her escaped her when they trained. While deep in meditation, she could focus on the water, its push and pull.

Her brother grinned wider.

“Sure,” she shrugged, walking towards his boat. It was a simple wooden canoe, one he had carved and made with their father on his sixteenth birthday two years ago, and although there were a few holes that were hastily patched up, Sokka was too prideful to find a new one. (Also, if any water flooded in, she would bend it back out of the holes it leaked through.)

“Dad said that Arnook and Yue are coming in a weeks time,” Sokka said as he pushed off the iceberg, “and I want to practice fishing. I’m hoping to ask Arnook for Yue’s hand.”

“You two are already arranged,” Katara huffed, putting her chin in her hand, “what’s with the formalities?”

“Well, as future Chief of the Northern Water Tribe--,”

“Oh here we go again…,”

“What? I have to look good. Arnook already had a strong candidate for Yue before I went there. Some soldier named Hahn. Even though Dad arranged it, I still have be credible.”

“No, I get it.” Katara sighed, waving her hand over the water that had begun to leak into the canoe.

“What’s up with you?” Sokka raised an eyebrow at his sister, placing the paddle back into the canoe. “Pakku seemed a little … well, more Pakku-like when I saw him leave your training.”

“Don’t worry about it Sokka,” Katara sighed, freezing the water over one of the small holes in the canoe. “I’ve just been … out of sorts lately. It’s probably the new moon, it’s no big deal.”

“Katara, you’ve been out of sorts ever since--,”

The waterbender sent her brother a deathly glare, making him shut his mouth. He sighed heavily through his nose before grabbing the spear from the bottom of the canoe. (Did he really not realize that the floor just had a layer of water a moment ago?) Sokka turned on his bench and peered outside of the canoe.

“There’s usually some good ones around here,” he muttered more to himself than to his sister, “maybe I can try that cove I found the other week.”

Katara hummed as she also peered over the canoe. At first, she didn’t see any movement within the icy waters. She figured that their canoe probably scared the fish away, but when she closed her eyes and pushed her senses out, she felt the water below them vibrate with energy. Too much energy for a school of fish.

“Sokka, something doesn’t feel right.” She warned, placing her hand into the water for a better feel.

“I see one coming this way right now!” He hissed, readying his spear.

“No, Sokka, I’m serious.”

“Shut up, it looks really big and it’s coming this way.”

“Sokka--,”

“Katara!”

The second he threw the spear, a huge dome of water appeared in front of them. Katara winced at the sound of the water releasing the object; a huge icey sphere with dark figures inside. Sokka lost balance in the canoe as a wave rushed underneath them. He threw the spear haphazardly, tumbling off the side of the canoe and into the water. Katara gripped at the edge of the canoe, wobbling as the waves past, her blue eyes wide and locked on the orb.

“I missed!”

“You’re really worried about that?” Katara hissed, steadying the vessel as her brother clumsily climbed back in. “Not about the huge, random ice orb with figures inside that just came out of nowhere?”

“Oh,” Sokka looked towards the formation, blinking water from his eyes. “I didn’t even … what is that thing?”

“I don’t know,” Katara said, “I felt an energy in the water but …,”

Sokka picked the paddle back up, ignoring the spear that floated in the water next to him. He paddled towards the formation as Katara bended the water from his body and clothes, drying him off so he didn’t become a total popsicle.

The siblings moved closer to the object until Sokka lined his canoe up right next to it. Katara stood up, pressing her hand against it and closed her eyes. Though she could see the dark figures in the ice, she couldn’t feel them. There must have been some barrier between the icey exterior and whatever resided inside. Katara opened her eyes once more and waved a hand over a portion of the ice in front of her, making it turn from a misty color to a shear, glassy icicle. She pushed her hands to it, cupping her face against the ice.

“Holy Tui,” Katara whispered, pulling back from the orb.

“What? What is it?” Sokka asked, standing as well.

“There’s … it’s a boy and some giant … creature. They’re trapped inside.”

“What? How is that even possible?” Sokka said, eyes narrowing.

“I don’t know!” Katara growled at him, “Stop asking stupid questions.”

“Well, what should we do?”

Katara looked between her brother and the iceberg. She was the future Chief, she had to make decisions much more difficult than this. (Decisions that has costed lives.) Katara took a deep breath and closed her eyes, expanding her senses to the water around her. She let her breath out through her mouth and adjusted her feet before raising her hands. Sokka watched as his baby sister bended, a crack forming in the ice in front of them. It ran upwards, splitting the sphere in half. Katara quickly flicked her wrists and the two halves flew off. Before the two got a good look at what was inside, a blue light blinded them.

The two shielded their eyes, wincing at its intensity. Soon, though, the light vanished and the two peered back. Inside was a young boy. He had a shaved head and donned orange robes. A light blue tattoo worked its way over the top of his head, ending in a pointed arrow. His hands were folded in his lap, also donning the same arrow tattoo. His tattoo’s seemed to glow with the same blue light, and he opened his glowing eyes. Behind him laid a massive creature, six legs sprawled out. Before Katara or Sokka could react, the boy’s tattoos stopped glowing and his eyes rolled in the back of his head. He fell forward, sliding down the slab of ice that remained from the sphere. Katara panicked, bending a small wall in front of the edge of the iceberg, stopping the boy from landing within the water.

“What in the world is that thing?” Sokka said, gripping at the walrus-shark tooth knife that was sheathed at his side. Katara followed his gaze to the creature.

“Maybe a pet? It doesn’t look dangerous.”

“And you said that about the bison-bear.”

Katara rolled her eyes and went back to bending, breaking off a portion of the iceberg where the boy had landed and influencing the oceans current to bring him to her. She peered at the boy, examining his clothes and how his was relaxed. He had an orange tunic pulled over his shoulder and pale yellow pants. Both were far too thin to survive in the North Pole. His tattoos were odd. Many of the men and women in the Tribe had tattoos, but they were created with dark, black ink and took place of animals or unique patterns. She had one of her own that marked the raid she lead. (No matter how hard she tried it wouldn’t scrub away.) This boy had simple, light blue ink stained into his skin.

“Leave the creature,” Katara said, her voice dropping and becoming serious, “I’m sure Dad or Pakku will know who this boy is. He looks like he’s from another Nation.”

“Okay,” Sokka said, nodding. The siblings had turned into their other selves, their warrior training and chief preparations taking over. Sokka helped Katara board the boy and turned the canoe away from the laying creature. He placed his paddle back into the canoe and Katara inhaled before sitting back down and bending the water around the vessel, pushing the canoe forward with incredible speed. Within a few minutes they had returned to the shore of their Tribe. Outside stood a dozen guards, armed and ready. Their dark blue uniforms stood out against the pure white of the walls. They all gripped spears that were carved by the finest craftsmen and decorated with rich paints from the best painters. The tips of their spears donned metal which was sent from the Earth Kingdom. They use to use carved walrus-shark tooth and bone, but now those spears were used purely for hunting.

Katara and Sokka pulled up to a snowy dock against the shore of the land and as Katara tied the canoe down amongst the other ships, Sokka heaved the boy onto his shoulder. He stepped out of the canoe, Katara following as they made their way to the single gate of the wall. The guards all bowed to the royal siblings, two of them pushing the huge, bone doors open to allow them pass. (New metal ones were being sent from the Earth Kingdom in a few days, along with sketches from the best Earth Kingdom strategists for a new wall.) None of them challenged the unconscious boy over Sokka’s shoulder.

Upon entering the Tribe, people bustled around. The outskirts of the Tribe was filled with igloo homes. They were makeshift and used for the poor to sleep in free of charge each night, an initiative Katara’s mother had made when she stood by the Chief. Scattered around the homes were tall, guard posts, raising above the wall to watch out for any incoming traffic. The bases of the towers were used as barracks for the soldiers, who would be stationed at a different tower each month to avoid familiarity and allow for the soldiers to always be on their toes. As they continued to walk, the homes disappeared amongst merchant shops. There were restaurants, clothing stands, and food stands all mingled together to create the Tribe Trade Center. In the distance, Katara could see the metal gates that surrounded the palace, which were encased in icicles due to the cold.

As the siblings walked through the Trade Center, tribespeople parted, bowing and mumbling greetings to the siblings. The two continued on, their faces molded to look like the Chief's they would one day become. As they neared the palace, guards began to flank their sides, ensuring that no one would stop them or distract the two, question them or the strange boy they had.

Katara melted the ice on the gate of the fencing around her home and pushed the doors open, waltzing in with authority to her step. Sokka followed close behind her, adjusting the boy on his shoulder. Word must have traveled fast among the soldiers to Chief Hakoda. Their father stood in his Chief robs, a mixture of royal and dark blue clothing. His coat was thick, fur spilling from around the cuffs and neckline. Pure silver thread lined the royal clothing and the wind blew at a few stray hairs that had escaped his wolves tail. His face was pulled into an expressionless canvas, eyes strong, though a flash of curiosity danced across them when he spotted the strange boy over Sokka’s shoulder.

“Chief,” Katara and Sokka both grunted, beating their fists across their chest twice. Hakoda nodded to them, a signal for one of them to speak.

“We were out fishing,” Katara said, glancing to Sokka who had adjusted the boy on his shoulder, “and I felt an energy under the water. Suddenly, a large ..,” she paused for a second to think of how to explain the experience.

“A large, hollowed iceberg,” Sokka continued, “sprung out from the water. Katara looked through it with her bending and saw this boy and a creature inside. She opened the orb and then we took the kid with us. We thought that maybe you or Master Pakku may have some insight. It looks like he is in a different Nations colors.”

Hakoda’s eyes scanned over the two siblings as if he were evaluating their story. He then waved his hand before turning around and walking up to the palace doors. A guard opened it wide as the Chief entered. Katara and Sokka climbed the few snow stairs that lead to the front door and entered their home.

Inside was warm. The floor was decorated with elegant volcano-rock tiles from the Fire Nation. The walls stood tall, painted a simple baby blue color. Two large stone fireplaces flanked the side walls, roaring with heat from the intense flames within them. There was a servant at each fireplace making sure the flames continued throughout the day. Above them hung an icy chandelier. Hakoda took a sharp right, walking toward the right flank of the palace where the dining rooms, meeting rooms, and social rooms were laid out.

“The creature you mentioned,” Chief Hakoda’s voice was low and strong, gravely from the many years of controlling a whole nation. “Where is it?”

“We left it behind,” Katara said, “it seemed harmless and was asleep, just like the boy.”

“I see,” there was an uncertainty behind his words, “I’ll have a group of soldiers go retrieve this creature and bring it back as well. Master Pakku is in the study.”

The three walked a bit more, passing large, bone carved doors before stopping at a smaller one, the handle sprinkled with frost. Katara quickly bent the frost away before her father turned the knob.

Inside the room was dark, the tall windows against the back wall had been drawn closed, and a few candles flickered around the room. Tall, long bookshelves made aisles down the room and ran along all of the walls. A few desks were scattered near the front of the room, candle sticks on them and ready to be lit if needed. At one of the desks sat Master Pakku with his head in his hands and a scroll in front of him. A single candle flickered by him, giving just enough light to read the inked words from the ancient scroll. They had scrolls and books dating back a thousand years in the room, most taken from the vast library system of the Fire Nation after they were demolished.

“Master Pakku,” Hakoda gave a small bow towards the man in apology, “Sorry for interrupting your studying, but it seems as if my children have run into a stranger and need some answers.”

The Master Waterbender looked up, a single gray eyebrow raised. He looked towards his own grandchildren, then his eyes flickered to the boy on Sokka’s shoulder. They widened a bit and the old man suddenly bolted up out of his chair.

“Put him down,” he growled, “lay him on the floor.”

Sokka quickly did so, gently placing the boy down. Pakku kneeled next to the boy, his hand hovering of the boys head before long fingers gently ran over the pale blue tattoo that graced the boys head.

“Do you know who he is?” Katara asked.

“Oh yes,” Pakku said, “but no one has seen him in years. I was told stories about him when I was a boy. Though, I did not think his tattoos were this pale. The way he was described … they would emanate with light.”

“When the orb opened,” Katara said, “there was a blinding blue light before we saw him. It came from his tattoos and eyes … Master Pakku?”

The man suddenly had a wide-eyed look, fright dancing in his iris’. He took his hand back and then closed his eyes, lips moving in a prayer.

“My dear family,” the strong voice of the Master Waterbender disappeared and was replaced by a shaky, breathless whisper. “We’re look at Aang, the Lost Avatar.”

#the killer in me is the killer in you #ATLA #zutara #atla au #role-swap #katara #aang #sokka #zuko

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chiyalawritesrewind · 8 years ago

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Rewind, Chapter 21

Fanfic: [ch1] [ch2] [ch3] [ch4] [ch5] [ch6] [ch7] [ch8] [ch9] [ch10] [ch11] [ch12] [ch13] [ch14] [ch15] [ch16] [ch17] [ch18] [ch19] [ch20 on AO3] [ch20 on ffn]

Podfic: [ch1] [ch2] [ch3] [ch4] [ch5] [ch6] [ch7] (Rest coming soon)

Pairing: Gratsu - Gray Fullbuster / Natsu Dragneel ; Acnologia / Zeref

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Major Character Death; Graphic Depiction of Violence

Summary: When a mission turns out to be fatal for one of the team members, Natsu finds himself being given another chance to change the events.

Beta by @serpenttailedangel and @wildrhov <333

Tagging list: asdf @f-r-f-t @truedreamchasing @eitomagical @galaxiesandfairies @eternalsterekbitches @becausewhenyoupracticeyouimprove @oliversantics @nekodemon73 @moonlustelara @pantykawa @ice-bringer (if somebody else wants to be tagged [or not tagged anymore] in the future, please let me know!)

SPOILER WARNING (in the fic and this Author's Notes) for the Manga/Anime in case you haven't yet gotten past the Tartaros Arc.

Beware, some of the information given in this fic is entirely wrong when it comes to the original Manga. I twisted things, completely made up some others, and also disregarded stuff that happened in canon. I wouldn't want you to mix up canon with my fic, so please always keep this in mind: This fic is non canon compliant.

More specifically in regards to this chapter: I changed the reason for Zeref's curse, disregarded the fact that Mavis was cursed, too (meaning: she wasn't cursed), and probably some other things I don't remember right now.

Things get somewhat resolved in this chapter. But don't get me wrong: this fic is far from over.

Enjoy!

Natsu needed several minutes to recover from the ride when they reached Tenrou Island. Since nobody besides Jellal and Natsu knew what they were supposed to do, they didn't have any plan on how to go about things.

Everyone looked at Natsu expectantly. Time to reveal a part of the truth, at least. He couldn't just say, 'Let's wait and see what happens' when he knew exactly what, or rather, whom they were looking for.

Natsu straightened himself. "There is somebody on this island we need to find."

Makarov interjected, "Somebody? This island is Fairy Tail's sacred ground. Nobody can find and enter it unless they're a member of Fairy Tail. As far as I know, there's no member missing."

Natsu took a step back. If that was true, was Zeref a member of Fairy Tail? A former member maybe? No. There was no way a dark mage was a former Fairy Tail member.

"Well, I don't know about that, but the Oracle said there's somebody here. And we mustn't fight with that person. They can help us. We don't have time to waste, so let's go!"

Natsu took off running, not waiting for them to answer. He had a good nose, so he had the best odds of finding Zeref. Sniffing him out couldn't be that difficult. Sure, the island was huge, but as long as Zeref didn't stay holed up somewhere, they would eventually find traces of his scent. Natsu cast a glance over his shoulder to make sure his friends were following before concentrating on his nose.

Somewhere along the line, Gray grabbed his hand, eliciting a fond smile from Natsu.

The later it got, the more nervous Natsu became. Even an hour after their arrival he hadn't yet detected another presence.

'Only one and a half hours left until he dies. Come on, concentrate! If we don't find him soon, we won't have time for explanations anymore.'

Thankfully, Happy announced that he'd recovered enough to use his wings again. Natsu accepted the offer, and soon the two of them outpaced the others. Maybe it was better that way. A confrontation between Zeref and Gray didn't seem to be wise, and Natsu really didn't want to lie to Gray only to stop them from fighting.

A new and somewhat familiar scent invaded Natsu's nose and he nearly caused them to crash into the nearest tree with his surprised jerking and yelling. Happy had a good nose, too, so he was able to follow the trace with a minimum of guidance.

Natsu's pulse quickened with every second as the scent became stronger and stronger. They reached a clearing and with it their goal—a young, black-haired man stood there, wearing a white tunic over black clothes and a pendant around his neck. His eyes and mouth were wide open in surprise. It was the same young man Natsu had seen in the vision of his future, where he'd been standing protectively in front of him. Was this Zeref?

"Na-Natsu..."

Before Natsu had the chance to ask why the hell he knew his name, the man flinched and put his hands on either side of his head, his face scrunching up as if in pain.

"N-No... It's coming..." A black sphere formed, like black clouds swirling around him. "R-run. Run! Now!"

There was an immense magical aura around him, and Natsu found himself unable to move a muscle, overwhelmed by the sheer power buzzing in the air. Happy seemed to feel it too. He let out a strangled groan and then dropped Natsu.

"Run!" the black-haired wizard shouted, but to no avail.

Natsu was paralyzed. He could only watch as the sphere expanded rapidly, causing everything in its range to rot and die.

"Run or you'll die!"

'Happy!'

Natsu charged at his friend and hit him square in the stomach, sending him flying into the bushes, out of the attack's range. The clouds hit Natsu the next second, pulling him in and making him stumble. It was over as quickly as it started, leaving Natsu lying on the ground. He sat up immediately, his eyes searching for the black-haired wizard. Everything around them was dead—some trees were even gone for good.

The man was staring at him in disbelief, and he was crying. What the hell was going on? Where did he know his name from? Did they know each other?

"Natsu... I... I missed you..."

Tears rolled down his cheeks in a steady stream, and Natsu found himself unable to say anything.

'He missed me? He knows me? Is he Zeref? Why does he know my name?'

A bit wobbly, Natsu got to his knees. He cleared his throat and then asked, "Zeref?"

The man flinched and opened his mouth to say something, but before anything could come out, Happy's voice resounded from behind Natsu, shocked and disbelieving.

"What do you mean, Zeref? The dark mage Zeref? Is that him? Did we come here to kill him?"

Natsu whirled around. A stab of guilt surged through him at the sight of Happy's eyes wide in panic.

"He's not our enemy for the time being."

"B-but he's the dark mage Zeref. How is he not our enemy?"

Before Natsu had the chance to reply, there was a rustling sound and a second later, Gray, Jellal, and Makarov jumped onto the clearing, all three out of breath. Gray glared at him.

"Did I... hear that right? Zeref... and he's not... our enemy? Have you gone crazy?"

Oh, perfect, that was impeccable timing they had there.

Something seemed to catch Gray's attention as he lowered his gaze a bit. "Why the hell is your scarf black?"

'My scarf...?'

Indeed, it was pitch black. What happened? Did that black cloud dye his scarf?

Zeref's voice rang out: "Natsu, do you... remember me?"

Natsu whirled around, confused by the hopeful look on Zeref's face. So they had met before? When? Where? Why couldn't Natsu remember a thing?

He had to proceed carefully from here on. He would have to tell Gray a lie to keep him from attacking Zeref, so if he said 'no' now, there was little justification for knowing something about the dark mage that nobody else did. It was too late to think of a credible backstory—he'd just have to hope that nobody would ask about the details.

Trying to look and sound as convincing as he could, Natsu said, "Yes."

Gray was right in front of Natsu in an instant, his back turned toward him and his arms stretched out protectively. He snarled, "Did you mess with him? Are you controlling him? Release him, right now!"

'No! Shit!'

Natsu put a hand on Gray's shoulder. "I'm still me. Hey. Look at me. Nobody's controlling me."

Gray turned his head until he could look at Natsu with wide, unfocused eyes. He was panicking inside, Natsu could tell as much. It was probably best to play his trump card right away or else Gray would surely freak out and attack Zeref any second.

"Don't attack him, please. If you kill him, I'll die as well."

Gray's eyes went even wider. Both Happy and Makarov let out a surprised sound, but Zeref's voice overshadowed everything else.

"What? How can you possibly know that?"

Huh? Had somebody informed Zeref that they were pulling this off? Had Lydia paid him a visit as well? Either way, albeit unexpected, his reaction was perfect. Nobody would doubt Natsu's lie like this. However, Zeref really seemed to wait for an answer.

There was no way Natsu would let Gray and Zeref be around each other any longer than necessary, and saying 'Go away, Gray' didn't appear to be the best solution. Therefore, he went for, "That's unimportant. Can we talk in private, please?"

Gray snarled, "As if I'd leave you alone with this crazy mass murderer!"

Natsu didn't know what else to do than playing dirty. He embraced Gray from behind, raised himself on tiptoes and snuggled his chin up to the crook of Gray's neck. Hoping that Zeref wouldn't hear, Natsu whispered, "Lydia said it's essential that I gain his trust. She said he won't hurt me. I need information from him to save you, so please, trust me and leave us alone. Even if he kills me, so what? Time will be turned back anyway. Don't waste this chance, I beg you."

Gray shuddered, his heart rate picking up even faster. Natsu didn't feel well telling so many lies at once, but he saw no other way. He didn't know what exactly he needed from Zeref, or if he really wasn't in danger of being attacked, but he'd find out soon. It was like he said—even if Zeref killed him, it wasn't going to be a problem.

"I... o-okay."

Natsu loosened his grip, and Gray used the opportunity to turn around, snatching a chaste kiss before stepping away. He nodded toward Happy and the others, and then they retreated in the direction from which they'd come. Natsu could hear Gray say that they should go back to the ship.

"Are you two... a couple?" Zeref asked when the others were out of earshot, his eyes still glassy, but his expression unreadable.

Natsu snarled, "I don't see how that's any of your business."

A small smile spread out on Zeref's face, and it nearly looked as if he admired Natsu. "You've... grown up. Not only do I get to see you again after so many years, but also your boyfr—" he clutched his head— "ngh, ah, shit, run!"

The black clouds around him were back. "Run! Your scarf can't protect you a second time! Run!"

This time, Natsu didn't hesitate. He ran out of the attack's range and only went back after he made sure that the black clouds were gone.

"What's the meaning of this?" Natsu asked. It didn't appear like Zeref had any control over what was happening, so the least he could do was to explain what triggered it.

Zeref dropped his head. "I'm cursed... Ankhseram, the contradictory curse. The more I value life, the more I kill. I'm amazed you don't know this when you do know that our lives are irrevocably connected."

Natsu took a step back, shocked. "I... what? That was just made up to keep Gray from attacking you."

Zeref looked up again, his face blank. "Gray... that's his name? Is he your mate?"

"Mate? What are you talking about?"

"You love him, don't you?"

"Stop sticking your nose into other people's business!"

Zeref furrowed his brows. "You really have forgotten who I am. It's true that it may not be my business, but there's a reason why I'm interested. My name is Zeref Dragneel. I'm your older brother."

Natsu felt as if somebody punched him in the gut. The dark mage Zeref, his older brother? No way! Zeref was supposed to be four hundred years old, so how could Natsu possibly be his younger brother? He was nineteen, for fuck's sake!

"It's only natural that you don't remember me. You were so small when our ways parted. Igneel was the one who raised you, after all."

Never mind him probably lying about his and Natsu's relationship—he knew Ingeel! Did he know something about his whereabouts?

"Where is Igneel?"

Zeref opened his mouth, but then closed it again, shaking his head with a sad look.

Did that mean that he thought Igneel was dead? No. Natsu wouldn't accept that. Igneel wasn't dead, he couldn't be—

"How did you find me? What are you here for? Why do you need to talk to me in private?"

Right. There were more pressing matters at hand, although he'd get back to the Igneel issue when they still had time at the end.

"The oracle of the Magic Council said I have to find you. I have a... problem. You're the only one who can help me, I guess."

Zeref cocked his head. "You're going to have to be more detailed than that."

Natsu gritted his teeth. Why was Zeref's scent so familiar? He shouldn't trust this man, yet he couldn't help but feel secure around him. There was no way he'd let himself trust the dark mage Zeref! He only tolerated his presence because he needed him to revive Gray, period.

"We're all caught in a time loop. A mage turns time back because Gray always dies at the end of the day so that I can save him. I'm the only one whose memories will stay intact; everyone else forgets what happened when the day starts anew. We haven't found a way to save him yet. It appears to be impossible to prevent his death. He died ten times already, and his magic always vanishes at once after his death."

Zeref's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He took half a step toward Natsu but then flinched and stopped. "Th-that... Why would she send you to me?" He bit his lip. "I can't help you."

There was something he didn't want to say, that much was obvious.

"I know you can, and I don't plan on giving up. If you refuse to help me, this day will loop endlessly. I'll come here again and again, until you give in and help me. You could speed this up if you just tell me now."

Zeref scrutinized Natsu's expression, but whatever he was searching for, he didn't seem to find an answer. After a while of silent staring, he asked, "You love him, don't you?"

Why was he still on about that?

"Does that hold any importance here?"

"It does. I... once revived somebody I love, and I paid a high price... I was cursed."

Revived!

Natsu subconsciously took a step forward. "So you can revive him?"

Zeref lowered his head. "No. I'm already cursed... I can't do it anymore."

Natsu closed the distance between them in with a few quick steps and grabbed him by the collar. "Then teach me!"

"You fool! Stay away from me!" With that, he slapped Natsu's hands away and jumped backward until there was a generous distance between them again.

Well, if that was his condition, then Natsu could work with that. As long as he taught Natsu how to revive Gray, he'd do anything.

"I..." Zeref gulped. Various emotions flickered over his face, as if he was fighting an internal battle. Finally, a shadow passed over his face and his expression went grim and determined. "No. I don't want to do this to you. Even if I could, I wouldn't want to teach you. It would be too painful. I'm sorry."

Too painful? Natsu clenched his fists, trying hard to fight the urge to attack Zeref. "Bullshit! There's nothing that could be more painful than losing him. I mean it. I already killed myself once over this. I'm ready to give my life for him. The oracle said I'm ready and now you're telling me this would be too painful? What would you do in my position? Did you know what awaited you when you revived that person? If yes, you're a fucking hypocrite."

Zeref flinched. "I... I didn't know back then. It's forbidden to bring somebody back to life. That's why the price is so high."

"If you went back in time with the knowledge that you're gonna get cursed for reviving that person, would you still do it?"

Judging from the look on his face, Zeref was close to tears again. He didn't take his eyes off Natsu, an uninterpretable softness in them.

"I would do it again."

"Then teach me. There's no way you could've loved that person more than I love Gray."

Zeref took a tentative step forward, tears glistening in his eyes. "That's... another kind of love. I just—" He gulped. "—don't want you to throw your life away like that. I've always wanted you to be happy." The first tears made their way down his cheeks. "If you do this... you'll have to stay away from the people who are precious to you... o-or you end up k-killing them."

"I told you, that's fine with me. If you truly wanted me to be happy, you'd help me save him. So show me, please."

A sob broke free from Zeref's throat. In the next second, he hunched up and buried his hands in his hair. "Run!"

Natsu ran out of reach before the dark cloud even appeared.

Why did this curse activate every few minutes? Was it normal? Did it hurt the cursed one? Would Natsu end up killing everything and everyone in his close vicinity because he valued life? Did he even value life, when he'd already thrown away his own once?

The black clouds disappeared and with them all the questions in Natsu's head. All that remained was firm resolution. He had to save Gray and this was his only chance.

Back in the clearing, Natsu found Zeref crouching on the dead ground, shivering and crying. Natsu's first impulse was to go over and comfort him. However, he held back, both because of Zeref's request to stay away and because Natsu didn't want to feel sorry for someone who had taken countless lives.

"You'll teach me then?"

Without looking up, Zeref said, "I d-don't even know i-if you're a-able to do it. Y-you'd need a far greater amount of magic than your target... H-how much magic does your boyfriend have?"

"I think... we're about even? I think that if I enter Dragon Force, I have far more than him. It's worth a try."

Zeref lifted his head, his teary eyes meeting Natsu's head-on. "There's no way I can talk you out of this and make you give up, right?"

Oh, thank Mavis! He finally seemed to understand.

"There isn't."

A sigh escaped Zeref's lips as he shook his head. He got to his feet and made a beckoning gesture. "Well then, come closer. Prepare to run at any given time, though."

Natsu was surprised by the request, but didn't hesitate to close the distance. If he wanted this to work out, he had to cooperate after all.

When Zeref reached out for his head, he flinched involuntarily, but scolded himself for it a second later.

'Cooperation. Even if I don't believe in his stories, I need his help. Relax.'

Being up close to Zeref, the scent that invaded his nose was much stronger. Natsu couldn't shake the feeling that it was oddly familiar. There was another faint smell on him, one that Natsu didn't know.

"I won't harm you... well, not intentionally. My curse is the only thing you need to be afraid of, I swear."

There wasn't a trace of dishonesty in his face, so Natsu believed him for now. He nodded, and this time he didn't flinch when Zeref put one hand on his forehead.

"Close your eyes and concentrate on your magic. No need to enter Dragon Force now. I can feel it if you just concentrate on it."

The moment Natsu's eyes shut, he felt the trace of another presence in his body, searching, examining. It lasted only a few seconds until the touch on his forehead was gone. Natsu figured that it was okay to open his eyes again and was met with a doubtful look.

"I'm not sure if it's enough if what you say is correct and his magic and yours are level when you're not in Dragon Force. You might end up using up all of your magic if you try."

"That's okay."

Zeref took a step back, glaring at Natsu. "No, it's not okay! Do you know what happens when a mage runs out of magic? They die. If you die, then your lover dies as well. In case you manage to revive him first, that is."

"Why would he die?"

Zeref bit his lip, apparently battling with himself over his next words. He sucked in a deep breath. "If you revive him, his life will forever be bound to yours. If you want him to live, then you need to stay alive as well."

This information made Natsu's head spin. It all made sense now. Lydia's words. His sacrifice. The bond he needed to form with Gray. The apple Lydia was talking about, a forbidden fruit. He was about to do something forbidden, as per Zeref's definition. He had to 'live in order to save his beloved one'. He wouldn't be allowed to be together with Gray. This had to be how he was going to save Gray. That meant...

"It's going to work out just fine. The oracle saw it. She said I'll make the right decision, and I choose this. Teach me. I'm gonna make it work."

Zeref didn't look convinced. "I needed years of research until I was able to revive... that person. Even if you're able to succeed, you're not going to learn this in a few minutes. You said time is turned back because your lover dies, and that he dies at the end of the day. How much time do we have left?"

Natsu checked his watch, surprised to see that it was already half past six.

"Half an hour until he dies."

Zeref shook his head. "That's not nearly enough. We'll have to meet again in the next repetition. Do you already have a plan how to go about things with your lover? You said everyone beside you loses their memory. Have you thought about what you'll tell him, or if you want to let him know what's going to happen?"

Good question indeed. Natsu hadn't yet thought about either, seeing as he hadn't known what exactly was awaiting him.

Zeref continued without waiting for an answer: "There's something else you should know. He won't be fully human anymore if you revive him."

"What do you mean?"

Zeref looked away. "He'll be... a demon. Your demon."

Natsu flinched. A demon!

"Are you kidding me? There's no way I'll turn him into some human-eating beast! Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

Zeref looked back up with wide eyes and his mouth open in surprise. "Human-eating beast...? You clearly have a wrong impression of a demon. That's... not what a demon is like. He'll still be himself and likely not even notice that anything changed."

Liar.

Natsu clenched his fists. "Deliora killed Gray's parents. One of your demons! I've already fought another one, myself. You want to tell me they're no different from humans? Bullshit!"

"His parents?" Zeref gulped, and then hesitantly continued, "He must hate me with a burning passion."

"He does."

"Why don't you hate me?"

"How do you know that I don't?"

Zeref studied his face closely. "You're right. I don't know that. You need me to revive your friend, but you could still hate me. Well, then. Deliora and that other demon you fought were created out of nothing. Gray won't be any different from now except that he'll have a demonic form which makes him stronger, but he probably won't ever find out unless it gets activated."

"When does it get activated?"

"He can either activate it consciously, but that presumes he knows of his demonic side, which he won't unless somebody tells him. Or it'll get activated when he's desperate to defeat an enemy he wouldn't stand a chance against under normal circumstances. At least that's what my research suggests. There might be other circumstances in which the demonic form activates, but there's no way we can know that. After all, the only human demon I've ever created—" He lowered his gaze and with it also his voice. "—doesn't know that he's a demon yet."

"Yet? When did you revive him? How old is he?"

Zeref shook his head. "Human demons aren't immortal if that's what you want to know. They age like humans. There's another thing you need to know. You'll need a book for this and you'll have to guard it like gold afterward. Gray's life will depend not only on your life, but also on the book. If it gets destroyed, he dies."

A book...? The dream he had on the seventh repeat suddenly replayed in his mind.

"Make it stop! You're going to kill him! We've suffered enough!"

"Too bad for you I'm not a person. I don't even have a body. I can't change this no matter what you say. These blades won't stop until your lover is dead, no matter what."

"Then what can I do?"

"Oh, I don't know. But did you see what's next to you?"

Natsu frantically looked around, searching for anything that would help him fend off the blades, but all he found was a book, buried under some stones. He kicked them aside to have a free view on the book and noticed that it was his diary.

"How can a book save Gray from blades?"

His diary. It wasn't supposed to prevent Gray's death, but to bring him back to life.

Natsu reached for the rucksack on his back and took it off. He practically tore the book out of it, uncaring that he ripped a seam of the brown bag.

"This—" He held up the diary for Zeref to see. "—is the most precious book I have." It was also the only book he possessed, but there was no need to tell him that.

"Yeah, that should work."

"Good. One more thing: you said he won't notice, but Porlyusica said his magic vanishes right after his death. Will he get his magic back?"

"Naturally. That's why you need such a huge amount of magic in the first place. How much time do we have left before time rewinds?"

Natsu glanced at his watch. "Twenty minutes, given that Ultear turns it back right away... Oh! Wait, I think I can buy us another hour. But I'd have to do it soon, otherwise it'll be too late."

Zeref stared at Natsu in disbelief. "Well, if you say so. I shall just... wait here until you're back, then."

Natsu didn't even bother to stuff the diary back into his rucksack, but instead kept it in his hands when he ran off in the direction the others had left.

Following their scents back to the ship brought him there in a matter of a few minutes. Happy spotted him the second he emerged from the trees. He flew to Natsu and carried him back onto the ship, where everyone crowded Natsu as soon as he set foot on deck.

Gray slung his arms tightly around Natsu, ignoring the diary altogether. "Are you all right? How did it go?"

Natsu didn't want to give away too much information since he hadn't yet decided how to go about things. It was standing to reason that Gray wouldn't want to be turned into a demon, seeing as a demon killed his family. What Natsu would tell him was something he'd think about later, after he knew what exactly he had to do to Gray. So, for now, he decided to stay vague.

"Yeah, all right. It's going well so far, but I'll need more time with him. That's why I came." Without breaking the embrace, he looked at Jellal. "Please call Ultear."

Gray pushed him an arm's length away. "Did he try to hurt you?"

"No. And he won't."

"How can you know that? He's a dark mage! He killed my family! Why do you trust him?"

Careful, a voice inside his head warned him.

"I don't trust him. Lydia said he's our only chance to save you. I have to do this or I'll never be able to re- ... save you."

Gray's eyes widened and he shook Natsu by the shoulders. "What is it? If we have to kill him in order to save my life, then let me help."

Shit. What to say? Natsu would have to lie. Telling Gray what he really was about to do was out of the question.

Thankfully Jellal saved him from needing to answer by clearing his throat and announcing that the connection with Ultear was enabled. Natsu broke free from Gray's grip and stepped before the communication lacrima.

Convincing her of giving him the extra hour after Gray's death again proved to be easy. He only needed to mention that he'd found a way to save Gray but needed more time to learn how. She didn't ask any further questions, apparently noticing that he was in a rush.

Making Gray stay on the ship afterward was another matter altogether. He didn't take the message well that he was going to die again, insisting that he at least needed to protect Natsu's life if his was lost already.

"My life isn't in danger."

"No. I don't trust him," Gray snarled right into Natsu's face.

"Don't you trust me when I say it's okay?"

"How should you know it's going to be okay?"

This wasn't going anywhere. It was time to reveal some information and pressure Gray.

"Lydia showed me the future. I saw that it's going to be all right, but if you hold me back any longer, it's going to fail. So let me go. Now."

"But—"

Makarov intervened by slapping Gray's hands off Natsu. "I think that's enough. Your only choice is to rely on Natsu, and if that's too much to ask, then I shall personally make sure you won't follow him." He turned his head toward Natsu. "Go, my child."

Natsu nodded at him briefly, ignoring Gray's shocked stare altogether. Happy grabbed Natsu by the scarf without being asked and carried him back onto the island, to the spot where Zeref waited. Natsu thanked him, opened his mouth to ask Happy to leave them alone, but it turned out to be needless. His friend already flew off, shouting, "Please take care of yourself," on his way up.

Zeref appeared not to have moved a centimeter while Natsu was gone. He silently observed everything and waited until Happy was well out of earshot before speaking.

"How long do we have?"

Natsu glanced at his watch. Seven pm. That meant Gray was about to—

'No. Don't think about that now.'

"Exactly an hour from now."

"Okay. I'd prefer to use this hour for preparations rather than teaching. You have to make some decisions, and you need to have a clear mind when we start."

Natsu hung his head low. He'd have to leave his friends, his family behind. He needed to think about how to end things. Should he just sneak away without saying a word, leaving them wondering what happened? They'd probably search for him everywhere, not leaving a stone unturned. Better not. A clear cut would be for the best. He didn't want anyone to hope that he'd return when there was no chance that he ever could.

"It's probably for the best if I tell them that I'll drop out of the guild for some reason. And then I'll... I don't know, live somewhere on my own, far away from other humans, just like you."

Zeref nodded. "That's a wise decision. Do you already know where? Judging from the behavior of your better half, he won't let you go that easily. After his revival, he'll be unconscious for a while, but when he wakes up, he'll surely search for you. You better get away from there as soon as possible."

"Yeah, I better... I don't know any place that's uninhabited. Maybe staying on this island until I find somewhere to stay would be best."

Zeref's eyes opened wide in surprise. "N-no. You can't. That's out of the question."

Why did he react this strongly?

"What's the big deal? I can live on the other end of the island. It's big enough for the both of us after all. I can survive on my own, so you don't have to look after me or anything."

"No! That's not the point."

Zeref looked terrified. What exactly was his problem?

"Your curse won't reach me and my curse won't reach you. That's what's bothering you, right? Unless the range of my curse may differ from yours?"

Zeref determinedly shook his head. "No. Even if it does, that's not it. This island is not a safe place for you."

"What do you mean? Are there any monsters here who'll eat me while I'm sleeping?"

Zeref's jaw dropped. "Err... no, but... you're not that far off."

"Is there another person on this island? There's a scent on you that doesn't belong to you."

After a second of staring in disbelief, Zeref let out a defeated sigh. "Person...? I think monster fits him better. Have you ever heard of Acnologia?"

Natsu shook his head, which prompted Zeref to tell him the story of a Dragon Slayer called Acnologia who was born over four hundred years ago. He became corrupted by his power and eradicated all the dragons, bathed in their blood and finally transformed into a dragon himself, with the ability to shift between his human and dragon form anytime. Zeref said that his goal was to kill all the Dragon Slayers, and thus Natsu shouldn't come anywhere near him.

"But I'm already here and he hasn't come to kill me yet."

"That's because I'm with you. He knows you're my little brother and that I'll protect you. He can't defeat me, so there's no way he could kill you while I'm with you."

"Then just let me stay with you. He won't attack me this way, right?"

Natsu bit his tongue. Why did he propose something like that? Zeref was his enemy, a liar, and the one who was responsible for the death of Gray's parents, along with other countless lives.

Then again, he was also the one who would help him to save Gray's life. For whatever reason, Natsu couldn't help but feel secure around Zeref. His scent was too familiar and soothing, and Natsu's nose never lied. Was it true that Zeref was his big brother? Why should he lie about such a thing in the first place?

"True, he probably won't attack, but what do you think will happen if two cursed people stay in the same place? I've never met anyone else who was also cursed, but I guess we'd just—" He gulped. "—end up hurting one another."

"We could... stay close to each other but always with a... what, twenty-meter distance between us? Come on, I don't want to have to search for a place to stay before I save Gray." Natsu let out an unhappy sigh. "This is already... hard on me."

Zeref sucked in a sharp breath, looking worried. "I... sorry. Well, if you really do stay away from me, I guess it's okay... until you find somewhere else to stay. But that way he'll still find out..." He trailed off and left it at that, not showing any inclination to continue his sentence.

"Find out what?"

"That... uh, that you're here."

"Why should that be a secret?"

Zeref's eyes narrowed. "Like I said, he's going to try to kill you. It'd be better if he didn't know your whereabouts."

Natsu still didn't understand why that should be a problem when Zeref was around to protect him, but then Zeref changed the topic, making Natsu forget about the question.

"Do you think you could come here a bit earlier on the next repeat so that I have more time to teach you? Don't forget you'll also have to convince me anew to teach you in the first place since I think I'll forget what happened today, right? At least I have no recollection of this day ever happening before."

Natsu felt his insides clench at the thought that he'd have to do repeat everything he said. And just when he thought that he'd never have to repeat his words again because of Lucy's brilliant solution...

'Wait. What's wrong with giving Zeref a page of the diary, too?'

Natsu suggested the idea, explaining that the pages of his diary would stay where they were. Zeref accepted the suggestion and also offered that in this case, he could come to wherever Natsu was. It was admittedly the most comfortable solution, but Natsu didn't want him to come to their guild and possibly cause a commotion. Thus, he asked Zeref to meet him in the woods near Magnolia. Together, they thought about a time for the meeting and decided that all things considered, early afternoon would be reasonable. Zeref would need some hours to get to Magnolia. Natsu had some things to take care of in the morning, plus he had to be at his strongest for the lesson and therefore should eat lunch before they met.

By the time Zeref sat down to write a text for himself, Natsu's head was spinning. Too much information, too many unanswered questions. His thoughts were in total disarray. There was a lump in his throat that made breathing difficult, but he couldn't make it go away. The questions would have to wait until the next repeat to be asked, seeing as their time was running out. Zeref had only little time left to write a text that would convince himself of helping Natsu out.

Zeref chose pages nearing the end of the diary to write on. When he was finished and about to tear the pages out, Natsu flinched and shouted, "Wait!"

Zeref paused, staring up at Natsu questioningly.

"That book... You said Gray's life will be bound to it and that I have to protect it."

"Yeah, well, but that's only after you've conducted the revival. I advise you not to rip out any pages after that, but it's no problem if I do it now."

Natsu nodded, checking his watch nervously. A minute before eight.

"Hurry. It's safest if you put it somewhere in a pocket. A friend of mine already proved it'll stay there."

Zeref nodded, did as he was told, and then got to his feet.

"We don't have much time left, right?"

"No. A minute, tops."

Zeref seemed to fight with himself for a second, but then he met Natsu's gaze head-on. "I don't mean to keep secrets from you, but I didn't tell you the whole truth today. I wasn't sure if I should burden you any more than you already are. I'll tell you the next time we meet, so please ask me about our past. You have a right to know."

This made Natsu's head spin even more. He wasn't able to decide whether he should be happy or angry or whatever, so he went for a simple, "Oh. Okay."

A sad smile spread out on Zeref's face. "I'm truly happy to have met you again and to soon have you back in my life if everything goes as you plan. I just wish the circumstances weren't this unfortunate. I mean it when I say that I want you to be happy. If you're really going to be cursed, I'll do anything to be able to break it and bring you and y—" He clutched his head. "Ahhh! No! Run!"

Natsu was about to follow his request, but then dizziness overcame him. He saw the sphere expanding, heard Zeref screaming at him to run, but Natsu passed out before the black clouds came anywhere near him.

Mirajane's Notes

Day 11:

Jellal barged into the guild this morning. He dragged Gray out. I followed, but Jellal requested me to stay out of it.

They didn't come back until shortly before noon. Natsu and the others stormed right into Master's office, and a few minutes later, they left with Makarov in tow. I followed them until Magnolia station. Natsu told me he met the Oracle of the Magic Council today and he will be able to save Gray. She told him to go to Tenrou Island. Apparently, the key to Gray's salvation lays on that island.

No update next Sunday. I'm still not sure how long Chapter 22 will be.

Thanks for your reassuring words on the last chapter :)

Your thoughts on this chapter? Any idea about future chapters you want to share?

#gratsu #ftfanfics #mywriting #Chiyalawritesrewind

28 notes · View notes

keikaku-sama · 8 years ago

Text

Book of the Atlantic: Chapter 2

Rating: Some early chapters are rated T. Some later chapters are rated M. Reader discretion is advised.

Side note: Sentences in Italics without quotation marks are thoughts. Sentences in Bold and Italics with quotation marks are characters saying things angrily, venomously, for emphasis, or the like.

Snake stopped in front of a lavish town house, and scanned it. His eyes stopped at a window on the first floor, as he saw a white haired girl flail in anger. The golden eyed male chuckled at her, before opening the gate, and walking to the front door, then knocking on it.

“MOTHERFUCKER! CAN’T A GIRL PLAY VIDEO GAMES WITHOUT SOMEONE INTERRUPTING HER?!”

Silence.

“ITACHI NOOOOOOO!!!”

The white haired man on the porch chuckled at the girl’s yelling, before stopping, as the door opened, to reveal an angry girl in sweats. The anger soon turned to happiness, as she saw who it was. “Egin!”

“Hello, Yuki.”

The man’s snakes hissed happily at her, making her hiss back in delight. “Oh! Why don’t you come in?” The snake man nodded, before stepping into the house, and closing the door behind him. “Yuki, is there anyone else here?”

“No, but Soma and Agni should be back soon….Let’s go up to my room. They won’t disturb us th- Wait. On second thought, let’s go to the basement. They’re terrified to go down there. We definitely won’t be disturbed there.”

Egin stared at her, before nodding silently, following her to the sub floor. Which was just as lavish as the first floor. “Why are they terrified of the basement if it looks like this?”

“They watch too many American horror movies.”

“I see.”

Yuki sighed, as she sat down on a couch, the snake man following suit. “So, what’s up?”

“I need to know where a couple of people are.”

The ghoul raised an eyebrow at that. “And what do these people look like?”

“A lad possibly an inch or so taller than you-” The half demon dodged a pillow to the face, tilting the top half of his body to the right. “Maybe a year younger than you, and has slate hair.”

“And the other one?” At that, Egin nearly crushed the arm of the couch they were sitting on, clutching it so tightly in anger that his knuckles turned white. And he was glaring death at the floor, with a snarl marring his face. “A man I hoped to never see again, no matter how much I wished to catch him a century ago.”

Yuki looked at her friend sadly. “And I suppose now that you know he’s still alive, you’re bent on catching him again?”

“Yes….But how is he still…..I thought……”

“He was reincarnated as a demon, in another world, where time goes by much faster than it does here. That’s how he’s still alive. That’s what he told me, at least.” The half Naga stared at her with wide eyes. “What?”

“He was with Ciel because he’s his demon butler. Five years ago, they made a contract. The deal was, that he gets Ciel’s soul, as long as he helps him get revenge on whoever killed his parents. After that, he will go back to Gehenna, or whichever Hell is his home.”

“Smile’s…..in danger?”

“Very much so.” Egin looked at her with a concerned frown. “Is there a way to get him out of the contract?”

“There are a few ways. One of them is to turn Ciel himself into a demon, and the other….”

“What is it?”

“The other is to get Michaelis away from Ciel for twenty four hours, transplant a ghoul heart into him, making him a ghoul in turn, and have Ciel defeat Michaelis in battle.” The snake man looked at her confusedly, as she drummed her fingertips on her thigh in irritation. “I don’t understand….”

“I suppose Amaimon hasn’t told you about the non-human food chain yet. Ghouls are higher than demons. Vampires are higher than ghouls. Demons are higher than vampires……I honestly don’t understand it one bit.” The half Naga stared at her with wide eyes. “Ghouls are higher than….seriously?!”

“Yep.”

“So you could defeat my father and I in battle?”

“It depends. You and your dad know how to use magic?”

The half demon nodded. “Father has Lightning Devil Slayer, Lightning Dragon Slayer, and Lightning Angel Slayer magic. I however, have only begun to learn how to use magic, so I only have lightning devil slayer, and lightning dragon slayer magic.”

“You two would wipe the floor with me.”

“HUH?!”

“I have Ice Devil Slayer, Ice Make, and Water Angel Slayer magic. My magic is based on water. Electricity based magic like you and your dad’s would electrocute me if I tried to fight you.”

“But what if you were really determined?”

“Hmm…Maybe.” Egin gave her a cute look, his eyes sparkling in excitement, and his mouth open wide, gaping at her. The ghoul blushed, and looked away. “Um…..Yuki?”

“Yes?”

“Could you tell me something?” The blue eyed girl looked back to him, raising an eyebrow as he looked serious now. “Sure.”

“Did….Smile and…..Michaelis….kill Joker and…..the other first stringers?”

Yuki looked at him sadly. “Ciel didn’t kill them…The Heathen did. And…Joker’s still alive…he’s in the Fairy Tail guild’s infirmary, recovering from his wounds….”

“Joker’s still alive?!”

“Um…..Yeah…..I saved Joker….But….I couldn’t save the others…I’m sorry…”

Egin stared at her, before suddenly wrapping his arms around her, and pulling her close to him. “Thank you…..Thank you, so much…..”

“Huh? But I didn’t…..”

“Just knowing that you tried to save all of them means a lot to me, Yukino. I appreciate it.” The girl went silent for a moment, before letting out a sob. Both her, and Egin, then began to cry. ○———————————————○ A short time later, the two had stopped crying, and were now just lying in each other’s arms. “Yuki?”

“Hm?”

“Amaimon brought my father to one of our meetings two weeks ago.” The ghoul looked up at that. “So, you got to meet him, and talk to him a bit?”

“I did.”

“And is he as awesome as I’ve heard?”

“He is, despite what I thought over a century ago. He is a very likable man.”

“Cool……Did you tell him what happened?”

“No need. He said that he visited this world occasionally to check up on us, and Adrian told him what happened, the day after the murder.” The white haired girl hummed. “How did he react?”

“He was devastated, and furious. He had hoped that Mother would die in peace, of natural causes, not be brutally murdered by ‘some douchebag trying to play God’, as he put it.”

“Did he tell you why he left?” Egin nodded at her. “He did. He said that he left because he was getting too powerful, and needed to go somewhere where he could seal his power, and that ended up being Earthland. He left to protect Mother and I, as he feared that he would accidentally hurt us. He truly did love my Mother….”

Yuki gave him a small smile, as she bonked their foreheads together, making him frown cutely, and his eyes widen in surprise and confusion. “W-What was that for?!”

“My cousin used to do that to me to cheer me up.”

“To cheer you up?! All it would do is make you a bit angry!”

“And then you’d forget why you were sad! It works!” The snake man stared at her, with his eye twitching. “Is your whole family like this?”

“Yep~! Along with my extended family in Fairy Tail~!”

“Your family is crazy.”

“Well, technically they’re your family too, as your dad is one of the people that founded Fairy Tail.”

“HUH?!”

“Yep. Mavis Vermillion, Yuri Dreyar, Warrod Sequen, and Precht Gaebolg were the four that founded Fairy Tail one hundred and four years ago.” Egin stared at her. “But…”

“And your younger brother was the third guild master.”

“Was?”

“Alu’s mate, Zeref is the current guild master. He became the master six years ago, after a dragon called Acnologia destroyed Tenroujima, or Sirius island, where a team of some of Fairy Tail’s strongest, along with your brother, and grand nephew were.”

The snake man blinked at her. “So they’re dead?”

“No!” The white haired man jumped, startled when she shouted angrily at him. “S-Sorry….”

The ghoul glared at him, growling with her sharp teeth bared in anger, before turning away, and breathing deeply, to calm herself down. “No….I’m sorry…..I just……get upset when anyone says that they’re……Sorry.”

Note to self: Never make Yuki angry. And by extension, never make anyone in Fairy Tail angry.

“Y-You’re fine…Um…they’re not….”

“No. They’re just in a protective stasis field called ‘Fairy Sphere’ that Mavis’s spirit cast. It’s weakening, and should be down by my birthday next year.”

“They’re alive?”

“They are. Fairy Sphere suspends the target in time, essentially halting physical aging, so you may get to meet your little brother next year, if you so wish to.” The half demon hummed. “May I ask how old my brother is? Father didn’t tell me.”

“Eighty...Ninety four.” The white haired man smiled at her, in thanks, before she spoke again. “How is your dad so powerful?”

“He’s been revered as a deity in Japan since the fifth year of the Yamato period, and is a Nagaraja.” Yuki stared at the half demon. “Holy shit….Can I seriously not tell them?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

The ghoul groaned in frustration, before looking back at him. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to infiltrate Phantomhive Manor and kill Jack the Ripper.”

“ARE YOU CRAZY?!”

“You said that your family, and extended family, is crazy. Your extended family technically includes me, so, yes, I am.”

“But- But-“

“I-Is everything alright down there?! Agni and I heard you yelling! Did the basement murderer get you?!”

Yuki’s eye twitched at that. “I’m fine, Soma! Just talking to a friend that I let in!”

“Oh~! A friend~?” They heard two people run down the stairs, before seeing an Indian duo, made up of a teenage boy with purple hair, and a twenty something man with white hair. The teenager looked absolutely ecstatic that they had a guest, while the man was glad that his friend was excited. “Any friend of Yuki’s is a friend of mine! Tell me, what is your name, friend?”

The snake man glanced at Yuki, who’s arm was being slithered upon by Bram the King Cobra. “I….I am Egin Nichols….Though I go by Snake…”

“Well, Snake~! Welcome to the Phantomhive townhouse! I am the caretaker of this wonderful place, Prince Soma Asman Kadar, and this is my butler, Agni! Would you like some curry, Snake? Agni makes the best!”

Egin looked to Yuki, who shrugged, before responding. “I would love some, but I’m kind of in a rush to get somewhere…”

“Oh! No worries, then! We’ll just make you some curry buns, and you can be on your way in a jiffy! ….Yuki, did I say that right?”

“Yep.”

“Agni! Some Curry buns for our friend Snake, Please!” The man behind Soma bowed. “Right away, my prince!” ■————————————————————————————■ “Egin-“

“No.”

“But-“

“No.”

“Egin-“

“You cannot talk me out of this, Yuki.”

“But-“

“I said no.”

“Listen to me!” The snake man looked at her. “What?”

“Don’t attack him head on. Don’t provoke him. Play along with the lie Ciel will tell you, act like you don’t know what happened to the first stringers. Bide your time, and get stronger.” The half demon raised an eyebrow at her. “Why?”

“You’re my friend. I’m only trying to make it so you don’t get hurt, or worse. Just do what I said. Alright?” He blinked, before nodding.

Yuki smiled at him, before suppressing their spiritual pressure, as Phantomhive manor came into sight. “Hide in the green house. Don’t attack him if he goes in there…I’ve gotta go now. Call or text me if you need something. Bye.”

Egin smiled at her, before waving goodbye. After the ghoul left, the snake man hid in some shrubbery, waiting for the last few people arriving to go inside. “Let’s bide our time somewhere until night falls. – Says Keats.”

The half demon then quickly ran to the green house, and shut the door behind him, before looking around.

Plenty of places to hide…Yuki said to bide my time..,I’m going to do just that.

The white haired man then sat on a short brick wall, and pulled the bag of curry buns Soma and Agni gave him, out from his coat pocket. “It’s so warm here. It’s like paradise, don’tcha think? -Says Wilde.” ■————————————————————————————■ The door of the green house creaked, as Sebastian closed it. He had found a snake inside the manor, and in his Young Master’s room, no less. So, he had followed the scent the snake left when it slithered into the manor, back to the green house.

The demon quickly glanced at every nook and cranny that a human, or demon, could hide in. He growled, when he didn’t see anything. Before his eyes widened in surprise, as he just barely dodged a sudden spark of lavender electricity.

“Ah. I hadn’t expected to see you again so soon, Mister Snake…..Or should I say, Egin Nichols?”

A loud roar, that sounded something between a hiss and a growl, was heard, as a white haired snake man jumped out from behind some bushes with lavender lightning sparking around his whole body, and…..black markings appearing on the right of his body, going over his eye, making it glow an electric lavender, as the man rushed at Michaelis.

“DON’T YOU DARE SAY THAT NAME!! YOU DON’T HAVE THE RIGHT TO!”

Snake bared his teeth at him in anger, and pulled his fist back, it charged with even more lightning, before he launched the fist at the crow demon.

Sebastian’s eyes widened, as he sensed extreme danger from that lightning. He narrowly dodged Snake’s fist, the lightning grazing his cheek, making it burn terribly. The black haired man breathed sharply in slight pain, as it actually hurt…..and wouldn’t heal. The demon kneed Snake in the stomach, before quickly knocking him out.

Or, tried to knock him out.

The white haired half demon had better reflexes, and was quicker than Michaelis thought. The half breed recovered from the knee to his stomach, and dodged the fist to the back of his head, before having the lightning travel to his leg, and wiped out the older demon by kicking the leg that Yuki nearly crushed with her kagune one hundred nineteen years ago.

Sebastian grit his teeth, and growled inhumanly in pain, barely managing to refrain from screaming, as that would only wake the people remaining in the manor. The lightning fueled kick hurt immensely, but not as much as having the bones in his leg nearly crushed by a biological weapon.

The full blooded demon fell onto his back, before Snake quickly straddled him, and opened his mouth wide, revealing a ball of lavender, and yellow lightning, sparking inside of the snake man’s throat. The maroon eyed man underneath him widened his eyes at that, as the lightning quickly traveled into the white haired half demon’s mouth.

The half breed was going to take his head off by burning it to ashes with some strange lightning. Sebastian quickly slid out from underneath Snake, the lightning narrowly missing the taller man’s bad leg.

Michaelis growled, and roundhouse kicked the snake man in the head, knocking him out before he good do anything else. The crow demon panted, trying to get air back into his lungs as he glared at the unconscious half breed, before glancing at his leg, then getting up.

And losing his balance, gritting his teeth and taking in a sharp breath, as the pain he had felt in his leg when he was human seemed to be coming back full force. The demon growled, then leaned against the glass wall nearest to him, before looking around the green house.

It was a mess. 

One bed of flowers and bushes had caught on fire, the lightning having touched one of the leaves, a lightning strike that had moved toward the black haired man left a trail of an ugly burn mark across the stone on the ground, and where that…..elemental roar, had aimed, where the demon’s head had been, was a large circle shaped burn mark, that Sebastian doubted he could get out with only soap and water.

Michaelis gaped at Snake.

How the hell did this half breed, this half Naga, get to be so powerful in just one hundred nineteen years? ■————————————————————————————■ “Well, now that the professor has gone home, I shall see to luncheon-“

“Wait.”

“Hm?” Sebastian tilted his head in confusion at his young master, who raised an eyebrow at him.

“I kept silent because it seemed like you purposely didn’t want to bring it up in front of him, but…you haven’t explained how Phelps’s murder occurred.”

“Anything else, Young Master?”

“Why the hell are you limping, and why is there a scar on your cheek? I don’t know what happened, but shouldn’t it have healed?”

Michaelis hummed. “That’s just the thing. I tried to heal it myself, but it just won’t disappear….And, the limp…We had another visitor at the manor, in addition to our invited guests. This visitor put up quite the fight, and I fear he was strong enough to permanently damage my leg.”

The Earl’s eye widened at him. “What?! How?!”

“I don’t know, but it must have had something to do with that lightning…….magic he was wielding.” The demon growled, and put as much venom into the word ‘magic,’ absolutely hating it, as Yuki, Crowley, and one of the many demons in Gehenna that he hated, wielded magic.

Ciel blinked in confusion, before speaking again. “That is most unfortunate. I do hope that you will be able to continue your duties as my butler, despite your leg.”

“What kind of butler would I be if I couldn’t?”

“You wouldn’t be a butler at all.” Michaelis chuckled, as the slate haired boy sighed. “So, tell me. Where is this thirteenth person?” The demon blinked, before his eye twitched, as he crouched with a bit of difficulty, and pulled out a large crate with chains and antique padlocks surrounding it. “What the hell is that?!”

“As I was not expecting him so soon, I showed him to these special accommodations here.” The Earl walked to stand next to Sebastian. “The killer is in there?”

The old crow grunted with effort, and pain, as he used the crate to pull himself up, before leaning on the table, ignoring his master’s look of concern. “Yes, he is…Or rather, they.”

“Let me see what’s inside.”

“Are you certain?”

“Just open it!”

Michaelis nodded, and obliged. He pulled a pair of giant plyers out from under the table, and used them to break the chains on the crate, honestly not wanting to crouch again. He then dropped the plyers, and attempted to quickly dodge a strike of yellow lightning.

He dodged it, but not as quickly as he wanted to, seeing as his leg was busted.

I may have to get another cane for myself…

Ciel’s eyes widened at the lightning, before he looked at the one in the crate.

“Snake?!” The white haired man ignored the slate haired boy, and glared at Sebastian, yelling muffled profanities at the full blooded demon. Michaelis sighed, before explaining to Ciel what had happened. After doing so, the Earl stared at Snake, his eyes wide. “He tried to kill you?!”

“Indeed.”

“Why?!”

“Let’s just say that he and I have had a long running feud.” Snake’s muffled yelling became louder, and sounded much angrier, when Sebastian said that. “Oh, do be quiet, Snake. We can’t understand what you’re saying, so why speak at all?”

The white haired man snapped. Yellow and lavender lightning discharged from his body, making Ciel quickly move backward to a safe distance, while the crow demon just stood where he was, and sighed exasperatedly. And, despite Snake’s confines being metal wire, the lightning burned it to ash, not electrocuting the man.

“A FEUD?! SERIOUSLY?! THIS IS MORE THAN A FEUD, MICHAELIS! YOU FUCKING MURDERED MY MOTHER! YOU MURDERED AN INNOCENT WOMAN, WHO WAS JUST DOING WHAT SHE COULD TO PROVIDE FOR HERSELF AND HER SON!

“YOU’RE A MONSTER, JA-!”

Snake was cut off when Sebastian wrapped both hands around the snake man’s throat, and strangled him. The half demon coughed, as he choked and gagged, trying to get air into his lungs, as he clawed at the crow demon’s hands, tearing apart the man’s gloves.

Ciel tensed, as his eyes widened in fear, when he looked at his butler. Michaelis was glaring pure death at Snake, his body engulfed by pitch black shadows, the only feature of him visible being glowing red eyes.

“You would do well to remember your place, half breed. You are nothing more than a weak, worthless child, who thinks he can bring justice upon his mother’s killer, who clings to others like a parasite, afraid that the people he loves will leave him, just like she did.”

Tears threatened to escape from Snake’s tear ducts, but he refused to let them fall. “N…no…….you….you’re wrong….”

“What was that, worthless child?”

“I…..I may…..be weak…….but I……..am not…..worthless…..” The half demon suddenly dug his claws into Sebastian’s hands, making the older demon let go of the snake man. The half Naga quickly crawled away from him, before coughing, and hacking, to get some air back.

“Every person is worth something…..Everyone is important….Yuki and….another friend of hers once told me…That they’ve travelled the whole universe, and travelled to other universes…..and during their travels…..they’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important…….

“So how fucking dare you put people down like that. No one deserves to be treated like a piece of shit. No one except people like you, who step on, use, and walk all over others….you’re nothing more than a piece of shit yourself.”

Sebastian growled at him, as he limped over to the half demon, who didn’t cower away. Michaelis caught sight of a blue, metal thing, under Snake’s shirt, and went to grab it, when the half Naga viciously bit his arm, the white haired man’s fangs breaking skin, and drawing blood.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch that.”

The black haired man raised an eyebrow, and smirked, before going to grab it anyways. “Sebastian! Stop it!” The demon scowled, before using his left hand to pull Snake’s hair, essentially pulling the half demon’s maw off of his arm, then limped back to Ciel.

The Earl glared at him, before walking to the golden eyed male. “Snake.” Said man looked at the slate haired boy with uncertainty. “You may have come here to try and kill Sebastian, but….you know what happened to the other first stringers of the circus, don’t you?”

“Yuki didn’t tell me everything. She only told me that most of them were dead.”

Ciel and the crow demon blinked at that. “Most of them?”

“She saved Joker. Told me she tried to save the others too, but didn’t get there in time.”

“She went into a burning building to save a man she doesn’t know?”

“Yes. It’s just the kind of person she is.”

The Earl and his butler’s eyes twitched. “Did Yuki tell you what they were doing?”

“No…?”

The slate haired boy stayed silent for a moment, before speaking. “Your circus troupe was kidnapping children one after another from each stop on its tour. We joined up with you to seize any evidence of those crimes.”

Snake’s eyes widened at that.

Could this be the lie Yuki mentioned?

“J-Joker and…..the others…..were….k-kidnappers?”

“Yes. I won’t tell you the full details, as I’m sure Yuki would be able to tell you if you asked her….Could I possibly ask your real name? And who your parents were, along with your legal guardian’s name?”

The half demon stared at him, before nodding. “My name is Egin Nichols, though I go by Snake. My legal guardian is Adrian Crevan, an Undertaker. My father is Yuri Dreyar, a powerful demon called a Nagaraja. And….my mother…my mother was Mary Ann Nichols.”

Ciel’s eyes widened, while Sebastian glared at the half breed.

“Mary Ann Nichols?! But she was killed by Jack the Ripper! While I have no doubt that Sebastian has murdered quite a few people in his life, but I’m pretty sure that he’s not The Whitechapel Murderer. And besides, no one ever saw the murderer’s face clearly.”

“I have.”

“Well, you could’ve just mistaken Sebastian for him.” Michaelis glared at Snake, silently telling him to play along with Ciel. The half demon was silent for moment, before he spoke with a sad frown. “…I…..suppose I did……I remember seeing red, and my vision was a bit distorted by anger, when I saw him….”

“Alright then…..Snake….What with your legal guardian being Undertaker, I’m sure he let you read, and watch movies, about Jack the Ripper, along with a few detective movies, right?”

The white haired man nodded. “Tell you what. You come to my manor, and help me close the ‘Jack the Ripper case.’ And you can stay here until we solve this, or, stay long after. How’s that sound?”

Sebastian looked at his master in surprise, before glaring at Snake, whose eyes were wide. “R-Really? You…..You’ll help me…..catch him?”

Ciel gave him a rare smile. “Yes, but, don’t get your hopes up. He’s avoided being caught for one hundred twenty six years, so who’s to say that he won’t be caught for a another century?”

The half demon stared at him, when tears suddenly started streaming down his face, before he hugged Ciel, and sobbed into his blazer. “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

That surprised the Earl, who stood there, letting the snake man cry, with his arms awkwardly wrapped around the half Naga. “T-There, there….” ■—————————————–■ After Ciel had gotten Snake to stop crying, the Earl had told him that to stay at Phantomhive manor, he would have to act as a footman. The half demon eagerly accepted, and was now sitting in a room of his own, with his snakes slithering along the floor.

He was waiting for the Earl to get back from a funeral for Michaelis. Why they were having a funeral for someone who wasn’t dead (yet), he would have to ask Yuki, or Adrian.

Speaking of Adrian, he just barged into the room with a scowl on his face, which wasn’t completely covered by his bangs for once. “What’s with you?”

“Having to deal with that insufferable demon is tiring.” The renegade reaper sat down next to his charge, before collapsing behind him, then pulling the white haired half demon down, and snuggling with him.

Egin blushed at that. “A-Adrian! I’m not a kid anymore! You don’t need to snuggle with-“

“Let me sleep.” The snake man shut up at that.  ■————————————————————————————■ “YIIIKES, SNAAAAAKES!”

“Do pipe down. They will not bite until he commands them to do so.”

“He?”

At that, Snake nervously peeked around the doorway, and looked into the kitchen. There were four people in the room, excluding Sebastian, who hadn’t been able to get an actual cane for himself yet, so he was just using a contraption he made, which was basically just two walking sticks Ciel didn’t want anymore, stacked on top of each other, and kept from falling apart with duct tape.

Michaelis walked to stand next to Snake, then slapping the half demon on the back harshly, making the white haired man stand up straight. “Stand up straight now! Introduce yourself in a loud and clear voice! Now that you are here, you must follow our below-stairs rules!”

He’s enjoying this, isn’t he?

“I-I’m Snake. W-We look forward to working with you. -Says Oscar.” The snake man’s cowlick trembled, as he introduced himself.

A cute green eyed boy looked at him confusedly. “Umm…You’re Mister Oscar?”

“No! This is Snake, and I’m Oscar! -Says Oscar.” The half Naga pointed to himself and the green snake on his shoulders respectively, before pointing at some other snakes in the room.

The snake next to the red haired girl. “That’s Emily…”

A snake above the blue eyed man. “And the one next to you is Bronte.”

A snake on the counter behind the cute boy and the short old man. “And Wordsworth is over there.”

A pitch black king cobra with glowing red eyes, currently being charmed with a flute by the old man. “And the one by you is Bram.”

After Snake finished that sentence, Sebastian clapped, his temporary cane leaning against the wall behind the snake man, as he put his weight on his good leg, getting everyone’s attention. “All right. That will do. Let us leave the introduction of those servants for another time. Else it will be night before we know it. In any case, he is the Phantomhive footman as of today. Do try to work together, you lot.”

#Kuroshitsuji #Black Butler #Fanfiction #OC: Yukino Eusford #Snake #Undertaker #Adrian Crevan #Ciel Phantomhive #Sebastian Michaelis #Jack the Ripper #Finny #Finnian #Mey-Rin #Bardroy #Tanaka

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