#the main cast just happened to be nearby when those plans happened

[e17omm]

"Hm, well, if I do continue the story of Himeko adopts a stray Herrscher, I'm not sure how I will handle Herrscher of Flamescion. Because I cant do the whole Herrscher of the Void and Herrscher of Dominance thing in this AU..."

"Or can I?"

[cerastes]

Legitimately can't stop thinking about the brilliance of Degenbrecher's introduction as a playable character.

We've known Degenbrecher for a long, long time before this event, and even before Break The Ice, actually: Before Arknights even released, Gnosis and Degen can be seen in this pre-launch trailer at 0:14.

Degenbrecher existed for years as this larger-than-life figure shrouded in rumor and fame, with an almost supernatural countenance to her presence in the corner of the narrative she inhabits: The three-time Grand Champion of the Kazimierz Major, the dreaded Black Knight, the peerless warrior, who has the strength of ten knight companies on her shoulders alone. Spoken of in equal parts awe and fear, her stint in the knightly competitions were legendary in how one-sided they were whenever she took to the field, and Platinum even comments that her portraits on the gallery of champions all make it seem like she doesn't even age, adding a supernatural element to her legacy. All we know is that she's currently SilverAsh's bodyguard and no doubt part of why his faction is so formidable, as it would be for anyone who has a one-woman army on their payroll. When we are finally introduced to her formally in the narrative, she's all business, no non-sense, in the middle of her job, and boy howdy is she good at it: We know the kind of juice Rhodes Island Elite Operators have, they are really, really strong, and yet all Sharp can do is stall for time against her, with tacit understanding that no matter how much he tries, he is NOT overcoming her.

There is not a single thing anyone present on Doc's side can do to actually overcome Degenbrecher during Break The Ice, so the very best thing anyone could do was stall her. THAT is the winning move, or at least as close to one. She's that formidable, and then some. We only see her in business mode here, with a small glimpse to her more noble nature in that she is nothing but non-self aggrandizing compliments for Sharp for being able to even fight her, even if there is no chance he can beat her, because most people just take a single swing from her. When Doc's plan succeeds and we reach the climax, she simply sheathes, says "Well played", SA recalls her back to her pokeball, and we are left letting out a sigh of relief that we made it in time.

Then, for some more years after that, that's our impression of her: Unsurmountable. We don't know much more about her other than she is simply not someone you measure up to. This, by itself, isn't particularly unique, both as a concept or in the cast of Arknights, but it leaves you to wonder exactly what is she beyond being Unsurmountable. Who is she, actually?

Then, The Rides to Lake Silbernherze happens, where she is the main character, and after all those years of mystique and grandeur, of guessing and wondering, we finally can see her not as a plot device, but as an actual character: The very first scene is her covered in blood and raw jumping on a moving train for some mysterious purpose. Oh god, oh no, why is she soaked in blood already? Is she already in Terminator mode?

Then, in the best possible payoff of years of mystique and build-up, we learn that Degenbrecher, the person, not the plot device, the person, is fucking hilarious.

She's covered in blood because she stopped by a nearby farm to help farmers deliver a farm animal, which covered her in blood given how messy births are. She apparently didn't have to do this, and just opted to because, well, she was there, they needed help, and she's in a perpetual state of down to clown.

While pursuing possible dangerous elements to Kjerag later, she stops by to talk with tourists and recommend good spots to sightsee and eat before resuming her chase Looney Toons style.

She looks the same in the three champion portraits because she didn’t like the photoshoots so she skipped them. They were just reusing her photo.

She'll have the single most mundane conversations with the simplest people in midst of off-handedly mentioning that she quite enjoys fistfighting avalanches -- in a setting where this is not at all normal or feasible -- just to test herself. Reactions to her saying this vary from "hey is this a bit" to "oh, Degenbrecher, you card, we saw you do that the other day, next time I'll bring my camera".

She's a combination of Bugs Bunny, Sakamoto-kun, and Broly, and her main gimmick is that she's a reasonable, normal ass person in terms of personality sans the more overt feats of power like fistfighting avalanches. She's just Someone, who just happens to be mind-bogglingly strong and skilled with the greatsword and with swordbreakers.

This is doubly hilarious when you compare her to other one-woman armies we know: Nearl's dialogue is entirely composed of flowery promises for a better tomorrow and heroic declarations, Saria has woman pain 9000 and hasn't had a good day in years, Skadi is afflicted with survivor's guilt which in turn lead to a potent-self loathing and rationalizing her mere presence is what causes tragedy to those around her. Degenbrecher, in comparison, is just happy to be here, enjoys a good fight within reason, loves challenging herself, and honestly is quite content with stuff like paperwork or small talk. She's the friend you call to help you move or when your pipe busts or when you need someone to take care of your kid for a few hours if you're going to be late home due to work. And she puts her entire god damn pussy into it, too, you bet your kid is going to have the time of their life if Degenbrecher is on babysitting duty. Degenbrecher chips in for pizza night. Degenbrecher helps you change your flat tire.

The essence of Degenbrecher is that the rest of Terra is going through some really dire, really interesting times, to say the least, but she's on New Game+ just sort of doing side quests, overleveled as hell and with her shit figured out, and she decides to be as funny as possible about it.

[violetmuses]

Intertwined - Zemo (Chapter 2)

TITLE: “Intertwined” - Helmut Zemo (Detective AU)

FANDOM: Marvel (Modern AU)

CHARACTER: Helmut Zemo 

MAIN PAIRING: Helmut Zemo + Female Reader 

MAIN STORYLINE: When Zemo unexpectedly finds himself working in a new department, you change his world forever. 

Author’s Note: Hey! Chapter 2 is here. Please let me know what you think and feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks so much for reading my work as always. - V.  💜

Intertwined - Masterlist 🔍

Main Masterlist 💜

Tags: @norabrice1701 @tavners 🏷

___________

After nearly racing back to the precinct, you mull over important details. 

That victim lost their life, loved ones were informed, Zemo suggested that an expert marksman could be responsible, and this tragedy occurred in an apartment building, too. 

Yet, potential suspects hadn’t been confirmed as of late, not even neighbors or the summer party guests. 

“Could we trace something towards the victim’s background? Perhaps there were enemies.” Zemo sat beside you as a department tech clicked through another database. 

“Enemies? A college student was killed, Zemo. Not some global diplomat.” You immediately pull defenses and attempt to humanize this situation. Someone is dead, of course. 

“Consider every possibility. As I’ve said, no average civilian would pull their trigger this way to kill someone here.” Zemo continues. 

“What else do you suggest?” You cross both arms, wanting to leave. 

“If the killer’s bullet planned to send a message, then we should start again.” Zemo kept these riddles going and you nearly cast your eyes towards the ceiling. 

“Are you saying that we should interrogate the victim's family again?” Soon after, your heart drops. 

“No.” Zemo clarifies his response once the database tech leaves and you’re alone with him near this shut down computer. “Moving away from the inner circle could answer more questions. We have only learned some basics from paperwork.” 

Branch out. You think to yourself. 

****

“When are you coming home?” Heike asks the question through another call with Zemo. 

“Later than expected unfortunately. We haven’t even solved this case yet.” Zemo affirms, sighing for a moment as he paces. 

“Just come home…Please?” Heike settles down personal frustration and sends best wishes to her husband. There’s no other choice. 

“I will. I love you.” Zemo ends this call, sitting in silence. 

_________

The victim’s final roommates, two ironic Criminal Justice majors, meet you and Zemo in a private area. For the sake of this investigation, you cannot risk speaking in public. Of course, it’s known that anyone could be listening, even the perpetrator. 

“Nothing unusual happened. We all looked forward to graduation and said goodbye to each other after the ceremony on campus.” One roommate spoke up, shaking their head for a moment after recounting this version of their last few memories. 

“Was the victim social?” Zemo clears his throat, offering his own question rather than being cut off by other people. 

“As social as we could be during those years. Even I worked through our school's pre-law track.” The first roommate goes on. Meanwhile, their nearby classmate nods in silence, waiting for the chance to be addressed. 

All work, no play. More textbooks than tequila. Zemo glances towards you, silently agreeing. 

“Any issues?” You question them, trying to see if the classmates had significant problems. 

“No. All three of us got along.” The second roommate chimes in and softly grins this time around. 

Good on the surface. Now what? You’re standing at a proverbial crossroads right now. Any upcoming questions may very well shift everything. 

Before long, you turn to Zemo, who quickly catches your extra round of silence without saying much in return. He needs to help you out. 

In that moment, he knows so much better than to slide pictures from the crime scene. Recent television broadcasts show enough chaos. 

“How close was your relationship with the victim?” He questions both roommates and those wheels start turning in your head once more. Still, you stay mute, listening instead. 

“Not close like family, but we cared about each other. This whole situation is terrible.” That Pre-Law roommate holds their heart while looking at Zemo and furrows brows. 

“Thank you.” Zemo rises from a chair and gathers his favorite coat, ending this chat. You have no other choice but to follow him. 

“Did we answer your questions, Detective?” That Pre-Law roommate asks, still sitting down. 

“You both assisted.” Zemo glances over his shoulder, leaving through the exit with you almost trailing behind every footstep. 

****

“Flaky?” You question Zemo in this car, heading back to the precinct. 

“Everyone grieves differently of course, but something did not feel right.” Zemo sighs without facing you and concentrates on driving. His amber eyes lock towards the road. 

“Which roommate?” You squint again. 

“The Pre-Law student.” Zemo rasps through his accented English once more, trying not to lose composure. 

Shit. You think. 

***

Bingo. 

You found information on that “potentially suspicious”  pre-law student. After zipping right back to the precinct, more department techs clicked through open databases again. 

“All right. Let’s see: transfer student, full-ride scholarship to the university, affluent relatives.” You mark the so-called bulletpoints after printing off details. 

“Affluent relatives? How do that student’s parents earn income?” At this moment, Zemo nearly freezes, but immediately looks at you. 

“The guy’s father is a defense attorney and Mom owns this beach resort.” You clarify, holding up one part of the stapled part document. 

“Two different industries.” Zemo wipes down his exhausted face, plopping down in another chair and sitting across from you. 

“We should head to Dad first.” You suggest. “The defense attorney concept looks promising.” 

“Fair.” Zemo cuts. 

“Can’t hang?” You joke without giving much humor. On the other hand, Zemo cringes as he drinks chilled styrofoam tea. 

“I’m fine.” Zemo fibs, remembering that Heike would rather see him at home, not traveling everywhere in this country. 

“We’ll go tomorrow. Night.” You catch that lie from Zemo, but still don’t embarrass him. 

Both of you work to reorganize paperwork and lock down the filing cabinets, gathering belongings to leave. 

__________

Zemo can’t sleep that night. He’s pacing back and forth in the small hotel room, not enjoying luxury here. A glass of ice water, not whisky, rests in his leftward palm.  

One large view of blinding streetlights and downtown traffic casts beyond rear windows. No breathtaking architecture loomed in front of him. 

Come home. Heike’s gentle voice sends a reminder to Zemo’s thoughts. 

Seconds later, your face reaches his memory as well. 

[narrans]

A Tall and Small Collection | S2.31 | Mailroom Promises

The family had just arrived back home after their day at the park. Cloud watching had been a smashing success, but they were all ready to go home and put Mayzie down for a quick afternoon nap by the end of it.

There were no other people nearby when they came into the main lobby, though a couple of kids who were on a playdate came bursting into the elevator and rode up a few floors before running off toward their friend’s apartment. The keys jingled their familiar tune as Ashlynn slipped them into the lock and entered the living room. The warm sun’s light reflected off of the glass from distant buildings, casting an illuminous golden glow in Ashlynn’s home as she made her way up to her apartment.

The Borrower brothers, Mayzie especially, had collected various things while they were out. Shiny pebbles and stones, acorn fragments and their tops which Mayzie found to be a very amusing party hat, and flowers which Ashlynn promised she would help press so they could paste them onto Mayzie’s bedroom wall when the time came.

“When will we get to go back?” asked Rey as he piled up some of the stone fragments he collected into a fort like structure.

“Someday soon I hope. We’ll have to pick another overcast day during the afternoon when other people won’t be around,” said Ashlynn as she carefully placed the flowers into a few pieces of parchment paper and pressed them into one of her thickest books followed by a few clamps she had in her supply drawer.

“Well, let’s make it soon. I want to build a proper fort and build one of those evil catapults you showed me in that book,” said Rey as he stacked the stones precariously.

“You mean medieval? Sure. We can do that,” said Ashlynn. Soren laid Mayzie down onto the blanket fort she had attempted to climb earlier that morning.

“You plan on creating a castle?” asked Soren as he made sure Mayzie was tucked in properly before facing his brothers.

“Well, yeah,” said Rey. “I mean, wouldn’t it be great to build our own castle? We’d have a fortress with all sorts of defenses. Fireplaces and stoves like in ye olde days.”

“Okay, okay,” chuckled Soren as he stepped up and ruffled his youngest brother’s hair. “We’ll see what happens. If you want to make more than a fire pit, you’ll need loads more rocks than what you have now.”

Ashlynn grinned as she listened to the brothers. Rey began talking about all of his grand plans and went over to his notepad and began showing Soren his grand plans and schematics that he’d drawn up. He talked about how to make a drawbridge and how they could use gears from old devices to make things move and turn.

What an imagination and drive he has thought Ashlynn. She glanced over at the door before seeing the time on her phone. She remembered the mail had run already but that she didn’t grab it on the way up since she had the Borrower family with her.

“Well, while you all finish making plans for your fortress, I’m going to go grab the mail really quick,” said Ashlynn. The brothers nodded, Rey not missing a beat in his explanation for what he wanted to create for them, and Ashlynn stood and made her way back out of the apartment.

The elevator ride was uneventful, but Ashlynn’s mind was preoccupied with how to make Rey’s dream real. Was there a lighter material than stones that they could use to build this fort? Obviously, they could just make the outside look like stone, but Rey sounded like he wanted close to authentic.

She’d need to think about it, but something else immediately jarred her out of her train of thought when she went into the mailroom.

Sam.

The young boy was standing in front of his mailbox with the key. Undoubtedly he was fetching the letters and bills as part of his chores, but the timing was fortuitous.

No one else was there.

They were there on their own.

Ashlynn didn’t want to scare the boy, but she wanted to make sure he knew she was aware of their shared secret about the Borrower community living in the building with them. Sam knew her, so this should be relatively easy, right?

Heart suddenly in her throat, Ashlynn stepped up to her mailbox and used her constricting throat as an excuse to clear it with a polite cough. Sam immediately looked over at her and smiled.

“Oh, hello Miss Ashlynn,” he said, eyes twinkling with youthful enthusiasm. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing well,” said Ashlynn. “Picking up your mail?”

“Yep! It’s the last thing I have on my list of things to do before I get to hang out with… erm… well, one of my friends is going to play some games virtually and I’m joining them online,” said Sam. Ashlynn felt a bit uneasy. Why did he hesitate? Why did he change what he was going to say? She decided to press a little.

“Oh? That’s nice. What friend are you going to meet up with online?” asked Ashlynn, carefully pressing her luck. She turned the lock on her mailbox and glanced over at Sam, who was now fishing out his mail quickly.

“Um… well… he’s not from here,” said Sam.

“Oh? Homeschooled? Meet him online?” asked Ashlynn. Sam squirmed.

“Um… yeah,” said Sam. His body posture changed significantly as he continued to avoid Ashlynn’s gaze. Ashlynn knew how to play this, but she knew she needed to still be careful.

“Sam, I know your parents are very careful and that you’re careful, but meeting someone online is dangerous. People aren’t always what they seem like,” said Ashlynn gently. Sam immediately looked up defiantly.

“I didn’t meet him online. He’s a real person. We just…” Sam stopped himself and looked away quickly again. “We just don’t get to… see each other… often… and… um… I need to…”

“Is his name Hero?” asked Ashlynn quietly, eyes fixed on Sam’s body. His body language immediately gave away his surprise that Ashlynn knew the name. His frame went rigid and his eyes widened. It was obvious the young boy was trying to get a measure of Ashlynn too.

“Um….” Sam stammered. Both of them looked around to see if anyone else was around them.

Then, Ashlynn, not wanting to intimidate the young boy, knelt and maintained eye-contact with him, smiling reassuringly.

“Sam, I know,” she said softly. Sam stared at Ashlynn suspiciously.

“Know? Know about what? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I… I need to…” Sam stammered as he tried to avoid Ashlynn’s eyes.

“Sam, you don’t have to keep their secret from me. I know about Hero,” said Ashlynn quietly. With suspicious eyes, he stared at Ashlynn and evaluated her smile until, after several long seconds, the contagious smile spread across his face too.

“You know Hero?” he asked. “Then… then… what color are his eyes?” Sam asked. Ashlynn chuckled to herself. Sam had devised a little test of his own. Clever boy.

“Green. Bright green,” replied Ashlynn. Instantly, the tenseness in Sam’s body dissipated and the smile spread wider across his face.

“Woah,” the boy breathed. “You really do know. But… how?”

“I’ve known for a long time,” said Ashlynn, her voice just above a whisper. “I know we’re not supposed to talk about it, but I wanted to thank you for keeping their secret. It’s very important that we always keep this a secret, okay?”

“Of course!” reassured Sam. “I’d never tell anyone. I’m just… I didn’t think anyone else knew.”

“And it needs to stay that way. Not everyone is as kind and thoughtful as you,” said Ashlynn.

“I’d never hurt…”

“I know you wouldn’t,” interrupted Ashlynn. “But others might, and that’s why we need to make sure we keep them a secret. Okay?” Sam nodded, grin spreading across his face so wide it nearly reached from ear to ear.

“Promise! Cross my heart!”

They shared a smile and then both of them headed for the elevator. Sam acted like he wanted to ask questions all of the way up the elevator, but the same group of kids came back into the lift and rode it up with them. Instead, Ashlynn promised that she and Sam would talk soon as she exited the elevator, Sam giving her a little wave as the doors slid closed behind her.

Ashlynn walked back to her apartment and paused just outside of the door. She hoped that she hadn’t overstepped any boundaries and that Sam would indeed keep his word. All the same, that little exchange told her that he could easily slip up if he was pressed too hard by someone else who knew about the Borrowers.

Silently, she prayed that day would never come.

She slid the key into the lock and clicked it open, sure to knock properly so the others would know she was home. Crossing the threshold, she was instantly greeted with smiles from all of her small companions, pushing aside her uneasy feelings for another time and another place.

For now, the most pressing matter on their minds was what they should do for dinner and what movie they were going to watch after game night.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

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A Tall and Small Collection | Soren

ASK ME ANYTHING

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Robotic Workers to Soldiers

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

Taken from the biography “The Fall of Dijballer” written by Uguntus Val

 Breaking a human is easy.

They have no armored exoskeleton, no reinforced scaled skin, not even an enhanced healing metabolism; it is an amazing feat that they have been able to survive on their own planet let alone survive the rigors of space travel.

They are weak and frail creatures of flesh and blood.  One could push them down a simple slope and there was a high chance they could break their arm.

We expected a war with them to be swift and merciless.

Our forces would descend upon their worlds like the waves a ravaging storm and sweep them clean away as we added their colonies to our domain, and continue the glorious expansion of our race. Yet for all our knowledge of human biology we failed to grasp the critical flaw in our plans and strategies until it was too late. The simple truth that could have changed the fate of the war in our favor had we learned it earlier on.

Humans were well aware of their frailty, and they adapted accordingly.

On the colony world of Dijballer we made our first strike. It was a temperate world perfectly designed for year-long farming and capable of sustaining a constant stream of crops to feed a dozen empires when fully developed.

The colony had only been on the planet for ten years and was centered around the initial landing site of the colony ship. A compact industrial center had formed to support the growing colony and several companies had established facilities to support the colony, including several robotics factories that supplied a majority of the work force. What made it even more tempting of a target was that by all accounts it lacked a sufficient military presence, only housing a token police force to maintain order.  

When the war began three legions were dispatched to secure the planet. The twelfth, the third, and the honored first legion that had been present at the beginning of every major war our people had ever fought.

They made planet fall just outside of the main settlement and began steadily advancing through the fields of crops, passing dozens of robotic workers mindlessly going about their work as if the thousands of alien soldiers marching passed was a normal occurrence. The machines were humanoid in shape with two arms and legs, often either using farming tools or manning heavy equipment.

Roughly ten miles outside of the city did we first encounter resistance. We were now in the center of the fields when the rear of the column reported they were under attack. A massive harvester had diverted its course and rammed a troop transport flipping it over. The surrounding infantry opened fire on the vehicle as it attempted to ram a second vehicle. Not being built for military use the vehicle quickly broke down and exploded in a shower of shrapnel and fire, setting several stalks of nearby crops on fire. It was here that the order to halt was given and the column began to reorganize. It was as the Privants were giving orders that the second attack began.

Thousands of farming units sprang out of the stalks on either side of the column like predators of old. In their hands were nothing but farming tools and yet they moved with unnatural swiftness. Before anyone could fire a shot they were among our ranks hacking and slashing us to pieces.

I’ve hear over the years how our soldiers were mocked. How pundits and politicians question how a fully armored legionnaire could be brought down by nothing but farming tools.

Were any of them to say that to my face I would smash their face in; for none of them were there to see what those machines could do.    

They dove and shifted to either side like a blade of grass in the wind. I saw my captain unload an entire clip on full auto at one and it casually darted to either side as if it was nothing but rain as it closed the distance.

When it was within arm’s reach it grabbed it’s scythe and drove it deep into the neck joints of the captain’s armor. The captain barely had time to swat away the metal scythe but the robot merely took its fingered hand and drove it into the unarmored joint itself.

I could hear the captain gurgling blood over the communications net as the robotic monster pulled its hand out of his throat, covered in blood and gore, and stabbed it in again and again and again.

While it was distracted goring my captain I brought my rifle up and brought the monster down with a single shot to the chest. The robot sparked and fizzled as it toppled over, its hand still embedded in the captain as it dragged his lifeless body down with him. I had little time to grieve for my captains death as another trio of farmer units rushed from the stalks at me.

All around me was sheer chaos as the robots swarmed over us like insects. Their fragile bodies meant nothing when their speed and enhanced reflexes made them near impossible to hit.

They knew were the weak spots in our armor were, they were capable of calculating the angle of fire from our weapons, they even somehow knew our ranking system and made sure to target our officers first.

The three that came at me lunged for me to close the distance and that was the only was the only thing that saved me that day. On the ground they could easily dodge side to side but midair they were cut off from that level of maneuverability.

I easily trained my gun and sprayed the machines with a full mag from my repeater rifle. The white fragments of their shells harmlessly bounced off my armor as their broken bodies crumpled before me. I barely had a moment to enjoy my victory before another massive harvester machine drove through our column.

Several of my comrades weren’t fast enough to get out of the way and were swallowed by those rotating blades of death. I heard their screams echoing on the communications net just as I had the captain and then they were cut off in an instant by a blood curdling crunch.

After that it was chaos.

Soldiers fought in tight circles or back to back with comrades as they fought off waves of robots. This went on for hours but to me, in those panic filled moments of terror, it felt like an eternity.

By nightfall the entire field was ablaze with fire just as the robots ceased their attacks. We gathered what remained of our dead and wounded and took stock of the situation.

Thousands of broken robot bodies lay strewn across the ground like discarded dolls, and the burning husks of the larger harvesters cast gloomy shadows dancing in the firelight. We had been out numbered a 3-1 and still managed to survive, and yet the victory was hollow to the core.

The twelfth legion was cut in half and lost the majority of their vehicles during the opening attacks, the third was at a quarter strength and had lost all of their officers, but worst yet was the honored first legion. The pride of several centuries of warfare, the first legion had been entirely wiped out at the front of the column. Their pride denying them anything other than a death on the battlefield as they refused to regroup with the other legions.

What remained of the officers of the twelfth legion was split between retreating to the initial landing zones or to continue with the assault. Only after the fighting had stopped was communication with orbital command reestablished, and the commanders in orbit almost couldn’t believe what had happened.

The twelfth officers requested an additional five legions be deployed to the planet and that the authorization of aerial bombardments. Debate between the twelfth and orbital lasted about an hour before the robots returned.

First signs of danger were the screams and weapons fire of sentries posted around the surviving column. Robots that had been laying on the ground thought destroyed rose back to their feet and attacked wandering soldiers.

The fear and terror spread throughout the survivors as everyone capable grabbed a weapon and began firing at the robots once more. In the confusion several soldiers fell to friendly fire as several panic stricken legionnaires opened fire on full auto blindly.

At the end of that night the third legion was almost entirely wiped out and the new rule of fully destroying the head and body of all machines became mandatory.

The war pressed on for another four months before we finally claimed the world.

All it had cost us was nearly four entire legions against an army of farming units.

The disgrace felt by the military was overwhelming and morale never recovered for the remained of the conflict. What’s worse was that throughout those four months the primary factories nestled beneath the primary settlement had been continuously producing more and more robots. What should have been a simple easy victory devolved into a grueling war of attrition.

When we finally stormed the office of the robotic factories we were able to download files from their mainframe and the horrid truth was realized.

Embedded into every robot humanity produced, regardless of their function, was a sub routine dictating military tactics, strategies, and combat methods. A maid unit designed for cleaning could be switched over in an instant to become a skilled sniper marksman with years of training with a kill count of triple digits.

For all of their frailty the humans had not lost the ability for death and destruction. They had imparted it into every machine in their service effectively creating an army of billions skilled in the art of death.

After the war was over I went out of my way to order one such unit to tend to me in my home.

I often wonder, as it goes about its cleaning work, that if I activated its military mode if I would be capable of taking it; though I doubt I can in my age now.

Instead it serves as a constant remind that one should never underestimate the nature of a being. No matter how delicate and frail it may appear, it may be hiding a dagger aimed straight at your throat.

[unnecessarywriting]

Him? That’s My Dad - Fred Weasley

Requested: Hi! Can I get a Fred x reader where the reader is Sirius’ child and is best friends with the twins and when he first sees them they are maybe pranking snape and maybe they reunite in the shack cause they are protecting Harry and just fluff really? A/N: Thank you for requesting. First I want to apologize for the wait, but I had some personal stuff going on and I needed some time off. Also, I was a bit confused by your request, so I took it into my hands and tried to match it to the best of my ability, but if you want me to write something else (More of what you wanted) just let me know and I'll write something new! Requests are still open of course, and I hope you all enjoy!!!

ITALICS ARE FLASHBACKS

Him? That’s My Dad

Fifth year at Hogwarts meant that there was a lot of chaos, not to mention that you were dating one of the biggest pranksters in Hogwarts history. Fred had been there in your life from the beginning of your Hogwarts experience. Despite your last name and the reputation that comes with it, you were able to have a decent time with Fred and George by your side. By third year, you had become very close with the twins, and they even began to include you in their schemes. When Fred asked you out in fourth year, you began your work at becoming one of the masterminds behind some, if you dare say, epic pranks. Then, fifth year came around, and well, the chaos of OWLs ensued, and so did your more personal issues. 

You had been aware of the return of your father, or rather the escape of the murderer who just so happened to share your DNA. Were you happy that he was out? Well, that question was difficult for you. On one hand, he may have murdered a whole lot of people, and he may have been involved with the dark lord, resulting in making an orphan out of Harry and you. On the other hand, he could be innocent and have a real reason for not making more of an attempt to get out of Azkaban.

Before Sirius was sent away for the murder of the muggles and Peter, your mother had died. Luckily for you, Remus was made your godfather, which gave you a home, but Remus was sure to never overstep his role. He had never wanted to imitate a father to you, but there were times in which you wished it had happened. When you found out that he would be a professor at Hogwarts, you couldn’t tell if you were happy to spend more time with him, or worried that he would become too involved in your personal business. You knew Remus found education very important, as did you, however, spending time with Fred and George was sometimes prioritized. Not to mention, Remus was not familiar with your relations to one of the twins. 

You were sitting in the great hall with the twins trying to study, but you couldn’t help but overhear some of the murmurs from around the room. There was a lot more hatred pointed towards you because of the Sirius situation. It was hard to focus on too much that was meant to be actually important to you. Fred saw this, and he was right by your side to remind you of how amazing you were, and not to let the actions of your father define.

“You’re not like Malfoy. Who your father is, and what he has done is not a reflection of who you are. Now, let’s do something to get your mind off of all of those gits.” He motioned to where some other students were loudly whispering. You smiled at him and turned your attention to what George was working on.

“Who’s it for?” A simple question, but the answer would be the secret to your happiness.

“Snape.”

~ A Dog Tale ~

Sirius had his reasons for escaping Azkaban. When he visited Harry, he was in emotional turmoil. He felt terrible for being trusted by his best friend to take care of his son, and yet he failed. Then Sirius thought of you. He was never ready for a child of his own, but he was ready to give anything for your well-being. Him and your mother were not in a real relationship at the time, but he was heartbroken that she had died. He worried about his daughter and the lack of a mother figure, but he was sure that he would do everything he could to give you the life you deserved. When he was sent to Azkaban, however, he didn’t know how to react.

While he was not the one to sell out his friends, he was guilty for wrongly putting trust in someone. He spent his time repenting for making those choices. He reminded himself of his innocence, but there was a part of him that believed that he belonged there. Often, he would find himself thinking about you. He wondered what you looked like and what your personality was like. Did you take after him? Were you happy? Did you miss him? These questions lived in his head everyday, but he needed to grieve and take accountability for his crimes. 

When he got out, he wanted to go and find you, but he knew you were with Remus, and he was aware that Remus was very careful. His old friend knew about Padfoot, and for certain, he was keeping a close eye for any dog that came near you. He knew that he needed to go to Hogwarts to get to the rat he once called a friend, but there was a part of him that was convinced his main reason for returning was to answer those questions that had been eating away at him. 

When he first saw you, he knew exactly who he was looking at. You were the spitting image of your mother. Despite his dog form, he couldn’t help but feel a smile come on. Without thinking, he let out a bark and a whimper. He watched as your head whipped around to look at him. You stared at him with confusion written on your face, but you quickly returned to the twins that were beside you. He whimpered quietly to himself, but he refused to take his eyes off of you. You had grown up so beautifully, and from the looks of it, you were a bit mischievous yourself. 

He recognized the sound of a particular person he wished that he could remove from his memory. Snape. The git himself was a professor at Hogwarts. Of course. He pointed his gaze at your sudden change in demeanor. You got down and cast a spell. One of the twins towered over you as they cast another one. The other twin seemed to be the lookout. After hexing the greasy professor, the three ran off in a direction that would allow them to watch the mayhem ensue without getting caught. 

He also watched on the sidelines. He saw the obvious immediate spell cast. It was simple. A color change to the hair. He was concerned that this was the best that the three of you could do, but then he thought that there had to be more to it than what meets the average eye. He hoped that if he got to meet you, he would be able to ask you about it. Then he saw Snape’s legs start to falter, and he ultimately collapsed to the ground with an angry grunt. Sirius did everything he could to keep the laughing quiet, but it was riveting to see his old rival take such a nasty fall, especially at the hand of his daughter. His heart filled with pride knowing that she may not look like him, but she definitely took after him.

Sirius looked over at where you were hiding and watched as you hugged the twins. Then he watched you do the unthinkable.

~ What did you do? ~

When Fred and George had a plan, you liked to add a little bit of your own spice to the mix. You liked adding something that could only be thought of by you. Nothing was different with your prank with Snape. It was simple really. The twins had this new, altered version of the hair color changing spell. The plan was to make it near impossible to get rid of it. In fact, there was a particular potion that was needed to remove the effects of it, however, they weren’t planning on giving it to Snape too soon. The counter jinx would only change the color on Snape’s head. You thought it was genius, but there was a part of you that wanted a bigger reaction.

“Okay, I think that it’s great, but what if, and just hear me out, we change his feet.”

“What does that mean?” Your boyfriend looked at you intrigued by your suggestion.

“It’s easy really, there is an opposites spell that I found, and it would allow me to change his left foot to his right and his right to the left. It could be reversed, but there is a specific spell to do it, and I doubt Snape would know what it is.” George laughed at the idea of Snape trying to stand up without knowing how to fix his issue.

“This is one of the many reasons I love you,” Fred said as he placed a peck on your lips.

The three of you had learned which hallway Snape would be in, and you made your way in that direction. The three of you stood in the hallway chatting, so as not to raise any particular suspicion to your actions. You heard a bark from behind you, and you turned your head in that direction. There stood a large black dog. He looked as though he was trying to smile, but he also looked like he was punched in the head. You gazed at the dog to see if it was deranged or just a strangely happy dog. Eventually, you turned your attention back to the twins.

You heard the slow footsteps of the annoying professor, and you all got into position as you awaited with a nervous excitement. You ducked down to get a more accurate aim at his feet, and Fred towered above you where he focused his attention to the top of the greasy haired man. You both carefully cast your spells and retreated to a nearby space to watch the chaos unfold. As Snape fell, you laughed quietly. When he angrily struggled to stand up, the three of you had to move slightly to avoid bringing attention to how much you were enjoying his struggle. You hugged George, congratulating him on a good idea and a successful prank. Then you hugged Fred and pulled him in for a joyful, passionate kiss. You both pulled away and smiled at each other, while George awkwardly evaded his gaze. You felt eyes boring into you, so you turned your eyes to the culprit. The dog from before looked furious. Then, he began to run away.

“Hey, I’m gonna go for a walk, but I’ll catch up with you two later. Alright?” The twins nodded, but Fred was a bit suspicious of your sudden change in behavior. He kept his eyes on you and watched the direction you walked towards, but he kept his distance. He didn’t want to intrude on your time to yourself.

You followed the dog and watched as it ran into the Whomping Willow. You had a feeling you knew what was going on. You had often referred to Remus as Uncle Moony. When the twins showed you the map, you had a feeling that there was a connection. Cue you Sherlock skills. You thought about the other names on the map and tried to connect them to Remus’ friends.

“Uncle Moony?”

“Yes?” His gaze lifted from the Daily Prophet to your inquisitive face.

“When you were in school, did you ever feel connected to the animals there?”

“Why do you ask?” You needed to cover your ground otherwise he wasn’t going to give any information. 

“Well, I know that you don’t remember the events of what happens when you change, but I just wondered if there was ever some sort of connection with the animals on the grounds. I have found that there are some friendly deer around. I’ve also seen a few rats and mice wander around the castle.” You were trying to hint to some of the hints from the map. Prongs being a deer and Wormtail being a rat. Remus chuckled at your words.

“Yes, the deer and rats can be quite kind and they can often invade your personal space. Not to mention the wild dogs. Those can be the most intrusive creatures on the grounds.” A dog. That was the last detail you needed. Padfoot. Now you just needed to figure out who was who. 

In your years at Hogwarts, it was relatively rare to find a dog on the grounds. That didn’t mean that it never happened, but this dog seemed different, and you had a hunch as to what was going on. You stood far away from the tree and contemplated going into the whole that the dog ran into. If you were right, then you could easily be heading to your one way trip to the afterlife, but you wanted to protect the people you cared about at all costs. You didn’t trust the professors with this information, and Remus was no exception. Harry had become a friend to you over the years, and if the disgusting rumors held true, this could be your chance to help him. Afterall, this was your father who was trying to kill Harry. The least you could do is fight this man and prove that you were capable of not being like him. 

You ran by the swinging branches and launched yourself into the whole. You found yourself in what appeared to be the shrieking shack. The floorboards creaked all around you. You pulled the wand out from your pocket and pointed in the direction you were walking. Eventually, you found yourself face to face with the dog.

“You know, I had a feeling you were the dog. Remus never admitted to anything, but something about all that he told me about you just reminded me of a dog. You don’t have to stay in that ridiculous form since I know it’s you.” You were surprised by your own confidence, but twelve years of anger can spark a lot. Suddenly, you were met with the man you thought you would never see again. You raised the wand up to his face, and locked your jaw in anger. 

“You look just like your mother Y/N. I know you think I’m a murderer, but that’s not the case. I’m innocent. Why don’t you lower your wand and we can talk this through.” He spoke carefully and clearly so as not to push you to hex him into another life.

“I don’t know why you came here, but I’m not going to let you hurt Harry, and I sure as hell am not going to let my guard down. You escaped from Azkaban for murder. Did you really think that I was going to believe you? Honestly, you must really be an idiot. Even if you are innocent, you let Harry and I live without you. You were supposed to be there for us.” You yelled the last line with an anger you didn’t know you had. “You were supposed to be there for me.” Your voice was low and full of pain. Sirius felt everything you said to him.

“I know, but allow me to explain.” You kept your wand in place as Sirius told his story. He explained how he was framed by Peter, and his reasoning for returning to Hogwarts. “You’re right. I should've done more to be there for you, but I can’t change the past. I sure as hell am never going to forgive myself for allowing you to grow up without me. I’m here now though. I know that I cannot make up the lost time, but I can try like hell to be there for you now. I have no right to ask for anything but I beg you to give me a chance to be in your life.” 

You lowered your wand and sat down on the nearest surface. Sirius sighed at the removal of the threat. He stayed silent as he watched you think about everything he said. He knew it was a lot for you to handle. It was a lot for anyone to handle. Neither of you were aware of how long you both sat there, but when you heard a distant creak and the familiar call of your name, you both launched into action. Sirius transformed into Padfoot.

“Y/N? Are you in here?” Fred appeared in the doorway and sighed at the sight of you. “George, she’s in here. Darling, what are you doing here? We've been looking for you for hours. You had us both worried.” He pulled you into a tight embrace and kissed the top of your head. You breathed in his scent and smiled. Maybe having your dad in your life wouldn’t be so terrible. You thought about Fred and your future together often. You thought about what it may be like to have someone that you could call your dad be there to watch you achieve all of the milestones in your life, and be there for any future children you may have. You thought about how happy Fred and George were with their family, and how jealous you were of their parents.

“Were you just here with a dog all of this time?” George asked as he walked into the room. Fred moved his gaze to the big, black dog in the room. You giggle quietly.

“Oh him? That’s my dad.” You smiled and sat next to the dog and gave him a reassuring look. “And judging by the way he’s looking at you Fred, he doesn’t seem too happy that his only daughter is dating someone.” Padfoot offered a small growl at your boyfriend who was both confused and slightly scared. 

“Y/N. I think you might be losing it.” George muttered. You laughed and motioned for Sirius to regain his human form. The look of fear and shock on the twins’ faces were priceless.

“Mr. Weasley I presume.” Sirius held out his hand. Apparently the Weasley hair was something that exceeded generation. Fred reached out his hand to meet your dad’s and he muttered his response. “I understand that you are dating my daughter. I will allow this, however, after I am proven innocent, and we can have a word alone, I think we should get to know one another. Thoroughly.” You watched the interaction with joy. You knew that sirius was pranking Fred, although there was a bit of seriousness in his tone as well.

“Boys, I assume that I don’t need to tell you that the knowledge of Sirius should remain a secret. I will also say that he is of no threat to any of us, so there is no need to worry.” You grabbed Fred’s hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “I think that you two should return to the school. I’m going to stay here a bit longer, but I am perfectly fine.” You kissed Fred’s cheek and gave a side hug to George as they wandered out of the shack. They weren’t happy that you were left alone with someone who was notorious for mass murder, but they understood that you wouldn’t put everyone in danger.

“So, you’ve taken to pranking old Snivellus eh?” You laughed and nodded. You wouldn’t have expected your day to go from terrible to one with an amazing boyfriend, and a supportive dad, but fate works in mysterious ways.

[angry-geese]

Blood Ties - Chapter Thirty Four: Let Fate Toy With You

Soulmate au Choso x Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence. injury mention. overall sfw

Synopsis: a pretty plot heavy chapter. james and mal continue their plot to take over territory in their barrier, when they run into more players

Word count: 3.6k

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Masterlist

When James finally comes to, the room is spinning, and his throat is dry. He freezes. This is not the room he last remembers being in.

"You're awake. Good. Almost thought she killed you." Mal says. Her voice comes from somewhere to the left. 

James props himself up on his elbows. The action of doing such sends a wave of fatigue rolling over him. His arms wrap around his chest, and he expects the pain of a broken bone, but finds nothing. He lifts his shirt just enough to glance at his chest, and he’s met with the sight of clean skin. Not a single bruise to be seen.

Mallory casts a glare at him. “Could you put your shirt back on please?”

So she can use a reversed cursed technique. And on other people.

“I healed what I could,” she says, between sips of her drink, “but there's only so much I can do. Chances are you're going to feel terrible.”

Well he's alive. That’s about the best he can ask for.

“I've never seen a weapon like that before.” James says.

“It's called a meteor hammer.” Mallory says. “Those things are hospital bills waiting to happen—I only recognized it from a DND campaign I played through. We had one of those in-game. A weapon like that takes too long to master, so generally they weren't mass produced for use by soldiers. Still, certain monks would train with them, as they had the time to dedicate to the craft.” 

“So she was a reincarnated sorcerer?”

Mal seems to think for a moment, before shrugging, and saying “Probably. I haven't really thought about that. I've been trying to plan our route.”

She's drawn a crude map on the back of a menu. It outlines the nearby streets, along with a few of the buildings—shops and whatnot. Certain areas are marked with large X’s. Others are blocked off with what James can only assume means danger.

James sits up, hunching over the map. "I assume you want to avoid the main streets?"

"Yeah." She says with a nod. "Aside from it being more open, another sorcerer has taken over that territory. I don't know her name, but I know she can weaponize her own blood." Mallory pulls down her shirt collar, revealing a long pale scar across her shoulder. “She got me pretty bad a while back.”

A Kamo maybe? A reincarnated one?

"What if we take this alley?" He asks, jabbing his finger into the map.

"That's run by a sorcerer called Talen," she says. "I've only ever interacted with him once. Weird guy. Kind of squirrely. Can't really call him harmless, but I don't think that he'll go after both of us."

James leans back in his seat, arms crossed in front of his chest. "So if you already know all this, then why bother taking over that apartment complex?" He asks.

"Because it's king of the hill, Jimmy." She says. "If we have that building secured, we have an easily defendable high point. We'll be able to see the landscape of this entire barrier. It’d give us a major leg up in this game. Putting it plainly: we aren't the only players trying to secure territory."

He points to the street adjacent to the one he entered on. “Is there a player with territory here?” 

Mal nods. “Name’s Aikawa, I think,” she says. “Last I heard of him, he was hiding out near one of the entry points—there's about nine of those scattered around this place. Some sorcerers will hang around these points, hoping to catch new players while they’re still disoriented.”

Point farming? Smart. “Do you know anything else about him?” Asks James.

“No. Just that he has about eighty points.” She says. “So he must be tough. And I’m not exactly eager to pick a fight with him.”

So a total of three sorcerers to take out. Fifteen points altogether. On his own, it’ll be no easy feat. But with Mal’s help, he may stand a chance. This Talen guy may be the easiest to take out. In order to do such, they need to corner him. Or catch him off guard. The next easiest would be Aikawa. He's definitely not expecting someone to fight back. That woman may prove to be a problem though…

“That leaves these two streets empty,” he says, pointing to a side street. Part residential, part commercial from the looks of it. “It's a longer way around, but there's plenty of cover. Nothing’s too open.”

"I hadn't even thought of that." She says. She leans back in her chair, sighing. Her brows knit in apparent thought. Mal sets her cup down with a soft thud. “If we’re going to be working together, I think it's best we understand each other’s strengths, and weaknesses.” She continues. “So tell me, what does your cursed technique do?” 

Though her question is innocent enough, it leaves James with a bad taste in his mouth. He has the feeling he should choose his next words rather carefully.

“By using a bit of a person’s blood, I can join two people with the string of fate.” James answers. “Some call it Matchmaker, but I don't have a name for it, so that's what I go with.”

Disappointment makes itself known in the crease between her eyebrows. “Really?” She says. “That's lame.”

He whips his head around to glare at her. “What's yours then?”

She stands, pushing her chair back in. Her neatly manicured nails drum against the table. "Do you think you can walk? Or should we rest a bit more before making the trip?” Her gaze turns to the window, and her expression falls. “We’ve got company.”

“How many?” James asks.

“I only see one.”

He lifts his head enough to peek out the window. One person, standing in the middle of the street. A woman. She’s not particularly strong looking, or physically imposing, but the cursed energy he senses from her is immense. This sorcerer has no weapons as far as James can tell. The string of fate loops itself around her ring finger, before disappearing. And if James had to guess, he’d say this woman is a reincarnated sorcerer.

From his belt, James seizes his revolver, cocking it. There's a soft click as the hammer locks in place, and a new round is readied. Mallory grabs him by the shirt collar, yanking him back down.

“What the hell are you doing?!” She hisses. “The noise from that is going to alert half of the people in this barrier! Do you want to bring everyone down on our asses?!”

The bitter taste of cursed energy fills his mouth. It's neither his, nor Mal’s. James senses another, weaker soul.

It stands on four legs like a dog, but it's body is far too big to be any animal he's ever seen. The three heads it has all resemble a different breed of dog: boxer, rottweiler, and german shepherd. Instead of fur, it has wrinkly, leathery skin. It resembles tanned leather far more than it does actual flesh.

A shikigami.

If that thing stands up on two legs I'm going to shit myself, he thinks. Luckily, it doesn't appear to be bipedal.

The hound stops, sniffing at the air, before one of its heads—the German shepherd—whips in James' direction. A cold shudder runs up his spine. Those are the eyes of a human. 

Then it howls. It's a horrible noise; beginning as a dog’s howl, but slowly turning into a more human scream. A metallic taste fills his mouth. It feels as if someone has stuffed his ears with cotton.

“What is that thing?” Mal asks, voice barely a whisper. With the way his ears are ringing, she could be yelling for all he knows.

“A shikigami.” He says. “It's like a cursed spirit, but it's being controlled by a sorcerer.”

“Looks like it's just the two of them.” She says. “Should we run? Or do you want to fight her?”

They need the points. If he's to put that rule into place, he needs all the points he can get. 

“We fight.” He says. “Going in guns blazing when we have no idea what she can do is a death wish, but I doubt there's any sneaking up on her. So… you distract her, I’ll take on her shikigami, then we’ll deal the killing blow when she’s weakened.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

“You have a better plan?”

“Yes,” she says. “Running.” 

James’ brows knit in frustration. “I want those points. Now are you going to help me or not?”

“Fine.” She says. Her head whips towards the left. “I have an idea.” Mal makes a break for the stairwell. A moment later, a crash is heard from the floor above.

She's distracted. Likely deciding whether or not it's worth it to investigate that noise. Cursed energy pours down his arms, into his weapon. Rend isn't particularly complicated: it's the reinforcement of one’s limbs with cursed energy—any sorcerer worth his salt can do that. His finger tightens around the trigger.

He sticks his pointer and middle finger in his mouth, and whistles. In unison, the shikigami’s three heads all turn to look at him.

James reinforces his limbs with cursed energy too late. Sharp teeth make quick work of his flesh, sinking right into it. It takes everything within him not to scream then and there. Its hide is far too tough for any knife to pierce. From his belt, he pulls his knife, driving it into the eye of the shikigami. It sinks down into a hilt with a squelch. The resulting pulse of cursed energy is enough to stun the creature, but not to kill it.

She must recall her shikigami before he can destroy it, because the next thing he knows, he's on his hands and knees. His movements feel much like a scene in a badly shot horror movie; shaky camera and all. One scene he’s standing. Then a cut. Then he’s running. Then another cut. It's all blurry. There’s not much he recognizes, until he’s collapsing in the alley between two buildings.

James can only make out two words: “domain expansion,”

The following blast of cursed energy feels akin to being hit in the chest with a nuke. Like his cells are being torn apart one by one, and pieced back together wrong. James is blown backwards into a wall, the force of which is so strong he cracks the wood panels.

This room is big enough to be a gymnasium. Though it's too dark to make out much else. The sickly sweet smell of decay hangs in the air. It's as if there's a weight on his chest with how difficult he finds it to breathe. James pulls his shirt collar up over his nose, relieved to find it covered in a thin layer of sweat, making the smell slightly more bearable.

A low noise fills the room. Humming. Beating like a heart. He feels it low in his chest. It comes from the black ceiling. What's with the background music? 

It takes James a solid minute to regain his bearings. And in that time, if this sorcerer really wanted to kill him, she certainly could have. Standing takes an immense amount of effort. One of his ears is ringing badly. Something squelches underfoot. It looks like liquified flesh. Smells like it too. The floor is covered in this foul substance. A new wave of nausea rolls over him. James gags, covering his mouth with his hand. He takes in a breath, but the action provides little relief.

Weakly, he looks up. Flies. Hundreds of thousands of them coating the ceiling. Their wings glint black as they flap in unison.

Her hand brushes across his forearm briefly, and it's as if his chest has been pumped with an electrical current strong enough to stop his heart. The muscle beats in an irregular pattern. Thump! Thump-thump, thump-thump-thump! Thump! 

With each step she takes, a squelching noise follows, like boots getting stuck in mud. “You’re pretty strong.” She says. “You're from this era, aren't you? You're a cut above the usual grunts I run into.”

"What the hell did you do to me?" 

“My cursed technique saps a human being of their lifespan.” She continues, “you were supposed to live to the age of fifty-six. Through our brief contact, I have shaved twenty years off your lifespan.”

“Twenty years…?!” James sucks in a breath. Why was his lifespan so short in the first place? Fifty-six certainly isn't young, but it's not particularly old either. Not in the modern age, at least.

If he makes it out of this fight, that leaves him with nine years. Maybe less. Of course, she could be bluffing. Saying such a thing would be a decent fear tactic.

“Don't act so surprised,” she says. “You're a heavy smoker, a borderline alcoholic, and your diet primarily consists of fast food. Combine this with a high stress life-style and you’re a heart attack waiting to happen,

“The thing is… I know you.” She says. “Or I knew your ancestors. You’re the soulmate sorcerer. And I want something from you.”

James aims his revolver at her. Nobody is going to notice the noise in here. “You’re assuming I won't just kill you.”

“If you kill me here, you’re trapped in my domain forever.” She says. “Until you either go insane, someone brings me back and I let you out, or you find some way to off yourself. Either way, I'm certain that's not how you want to go out,

“I want the name of my soulmate. And I want to know if they’re still alive. Give me that, and you’re free to go,

“Of course, I can't let you leave this place without making some sort of binding vow. I'm sorry, but the laws of my cursed technique only allow so much,

“That woman you're with—you’re going to have to kill her,” she continues, “if she is not dead within the next nineteen days, my shikigami will have the remaining nine years of your life span, and you will die.”

A cold sweat breaks out on James’ forehead. “Why do you want her dead specifically?” He asks. “Why not have me kill any other player?”

“This woman has pissed me off, and I want her dead.” She answers, refusing to elaborate further.

James understood that it may come to that eventually. When your very survival is based on the deaths of one another, alliances only last so long. It's basic human nature. He's certain that, if it comes to it, he’ll be able to throw the killing blow. He doesn't want to, but he could do it.

“Now what do you need to find my soulmate?”

James swallows, but the lump in his throat refuses to go down.

“A bit of your blood.” He says, motioning for her to hold out her hand. She complies. He pricks the tip of her finger with his knife, drawing a small bead of blood, smearing it onto his palm. Slowly the string of fate begins to unravel, revealing a name.

“Attention!” Says a kogane, startling the pair near half to death, “a player has added a new rule to the game!”

Its mouth unravels like a scroll, revealing a list, numbered 1 through 10. 

10. Players may transfer a number of points of their choosing to another player

One of them did it. James lets out a sigh he hadn't realized he was holding. They did it.

James watches as the corners of her lips twitch.

“I'm going to give you five of my points,” she says. “Pretend you have killed me. I suppose we’ll meet again, if it comes to that,

“Kogane—I wish to transfer five of my points to this sorcerer.” Her own kogane appears, mouth unraveling like a scroll. She scans the list for a moment, before finding her name. Altogether, she has a little over forty points. So she's been going after sorcerers and humans.

“Why make a deal with Kenjaku?” James asks. “What could he possibly offer that's so great?”

“A chance to start over.” She says matter-of-factly. “Because I had regrets while I was alive. And I left this place with business I needed to finish.”

That's vague, he thinks. “Are you Angel, by any chance?” James asks.

“No,” she answers.

Five points have been added to: Whitford, James

The room seems to swirl into view all at once. James lands on his feet, before falling to his knees, gripping his shirt right where his heart should be. His heart beats in an irregular pattern, and he feels out of breath. A cold bead of sweat rolls down his back.

“Holy shit!” Mal says. “Are you alright?!”

Her hands are planting on his shoulders, roughly shaking him. His meager breakfast threatens to make a reappearance.

“I feel… nauseous.” James says, before gagging.

Mal lets him go, taking a step back. She eyes him warily. “You killed her?” She asks, almost as if she can't believe it. 

As if on cue, a Kogane appears, displaying:

Player name: Whitford, James

Current points: 15

It lingers for a moment, before disappearing as suddenly as it appeared. Fifteen points down. Only eighty-five to go.

"Did you know that sorcerer?" He asks.

"No," she says. "I've never seen her before. She must be a new player."

Somehow James doesn't buy that.

Nearly fifteen minutes pass as they walk in silence. To get into the lobby, they need a key fob. One is easily located on a body outside the main entrance. Someone has shut down the elevator, but the stairwells are unlocked. Wilting plants sit by the windows. Papers are strewn across the floor. It's dark, and the room is lit only by a faint red exit light. 

“Did you see that announcement? We can exchange points between each other now.” James says.

“Yeah. I wonder who put that into place.” She says.

In the dark, James fumbles around for a light switch. Harsh, white light fills the lobby. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light. At least there's power.

“Someone’s been here.” She says.

“How can you tell?” Asks James.

“Look,” she points to a door. “Those shoes over there.”

That could mean anything, he thinks. Must have been civilians. “Someone probably just forgot them.” 

“Don't you think it's a little odd, though?” She asks.

He shrugs. “I think they were in a hurry to leave.”

She props the door open, stepping out into the stairwell. Reluctantly, James follows her, and they begin the task of reaching the top floor. 

It's not until they're nearing the top floor that they find an exit unlocked. Most require keycards, of which they don't have. Others seem to be barred from the other side.

When they finally find an unlocked door, they leave through it, exiting out into the hall. The lights are on in this part of the building. Umbrellas and shoes are left out, as if people are still going to come back for them. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Towards the end of the hall, where it takes a sudden left, is a closet. Aside from Mallory, he senses another soul—multiple souls, clustered together.

There's about eight people altogether, all huddled in this broom closet. A man, a woman, and the rest are kids. None look to be older than elementary schoolers; the oldest being about ten, the youngest around six.

The woman has a rifle pointed at James' face. And that's the last James expects to see of his face.

“M-move and I’ll shoot!” She says, her finger tightening around the trigger. "These are my students, and I am willing to defend them with my life."

"Woah, woah," James holds up his hands in defense, "that's not necessary. Nobody needs to defend anybody with their life right now—we're just looking for the roof access of this building."

"Why should we help you?" She spits. "All you shamans do is kill us for sport! You damn savages!"

That seems to strike a nerve with Mallory, who’s face twists into a scowl. James senses the sudden flare of her cursed energy.

"Listen lady, half of us didn't have a say in whether or not we would fight. Same as you, right?" Mal says. "We're all on the same page here."

"Civilians can leave the colony through two allotted exits," James says, " if you help us, we’ll help you. We’ll try to get you guys out of here."

“We will?” Mal asks.

“You can get us out of here?” The woman asks. “We can leave?”

“There's a rule in this game that allows nonplayers to leave.” James says. “In each colony there's at least two exits in which civilians can use. Problem is, we don't know where they are.”

Someone does. They have to. Mallory glares over at him, as if to ask “did you really have to add in that last part?”

The woman raises the rifle back to James’ eye level. “So I just have to take your word? Is that it?”

“Kei-sensei!" Says a girl, about the age of nine. "It's Ryo! He's-” 

"He needs his inhaler." She says. "We left in such a hurry, I hadn't even realized he forgot it." Kei sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. She pauses, mouth pressing into a thin line, before looking up at James. “If you get me his inhaler, we’ll help you. Then you’ll help us leave, right?”

James grimaces at the thought of being sent on another fetch quest. But Mal, showing an uncharacteristic amount of pity, nods and smiles.

"We’ll get you guys out of this place," Mal says. "Pinky promise?"

[hey-hamlet]

The SCP AU has only been mentioned ONCE but I’m already thinking about it! AU where sometimes, children have anomalous abilities and attributes. They may be showing it of to their classmates. They may be desperately hiding. They may not be of this world. They might not even notice it. But there is a foundation that calls them SCPs, and it wants to steal them away to a place of cold cells, calculating researchers, and containment. Where they will never see the light of day again. That is, if they don’t succumb to their own powers or get killed by some other SCP. But if they are careful, and brave, and in need… a door will open.

those doors lead to UA! And UA isn’t just a high school. It’s also a research center, a college, a middle school, an elementary, AND a preschool. Anything a lost child could need while they learn who (what) they are and what they can do. SCPs get a basic curriculum for whatever dimension they plan to live in, plus the skills (if possible) needed to blend in- the courses offered are varied. Most move to a more accepting place (three Portlands is a popular destination). They can also choose to live permanently in UA, as staff. Adults… can SOMETIMES get in. If they’re lucky. And Nedzu is looking for new employees. (parents of young anomalies might get an exception)

UA is… if a place could be the definition of “reinforced”, that would be it. The main building gets, well, destroyed or blown up every now and then, but it always puts itself back together by sundown. Reality benders find the locally reality to be unusually… stiff. Unbendable. It has separate buildings for each school level, student dorms, staff apartments, Several massive underground bunkers, all the regular stuff. A few gyms open up into seemingly indefinite planes of grass, for especially dangerous SCPs to practice.

As for where UA is… nobody can tell if it’s a pocket dimension or a parallel world, but across the wall is a view of regular Japan. Getting close to the walls is impossible- you simply find yourself on the other side of the property, or right where you started. Students have attempted to cross reference the view of “regular” Japan to events happening in REAL Japan, and things don’t quite match up! Some swear they’ve seen Nedzu exit the front gates and return with a little bag of groceries, but he’s probably just messing with them. Maybe.

As for the price… Nedzu is a little fey-like when it comes to the price. A student can pay back tuition as a no-interest loan, but most are encouraged to instead become alumni- basically pledging to protect UA and its students in any time of need. Protecting can mean many things, from obtaining critical resources to infiltrating oppositional groups to straight up serving as Nedzus own private (hero!) army. (1/3)

Random character backstories:

Eraserhead has the ability to drag halt abnormal things. But if he stares for long enough, he will bring ALL things back to normalcy- a grimoire becomes a book. a teleporter is forced to walk. A god becomes a man.

Of course, living in normal society, he had no idea. But one day his friend came to school nervous and excited and pulled off his hat and his hair was made of mist!! And he could make little clouds!!! And Shouta thought it was some crazy prank, but he went along with it. Until lunch time when a bunch of strange men in black robes with guns and tattoos all over their faces broke into school! They demanded to have “the missing link”, and then they blew up a hallway and people were screaming, and then black ooze was dripping from the walls and blood was dripping out of their eyes and they killed someone. and then helicopters were landing outside and different men in white were running in and shooting back and the cafeteria ceiling collapsed and the sky was RED and someone grabbed Shirakumo and tried to drag him away but Yamada started yelling except he was SCREAMING and the ground was shaking with his voice and his mouth was too wide and the building started to collapse and this is all TOO MUCH and this is ILLOGICAL and WRONG and Shouta grabbed his friends and ran for an exit but Shirakumo turned around to throw a cloud over a kid under a falling wall and Shouta and Yamada fell forward and the door shut and there was a little white mouse in a tuxedo and Shouta.

Blacked out.

Tokoyami bought a fake grimoire on eBay and accidentally summoned a real demon to his soul

Recovery girl wasn’t hired by Nedzu, she just showed up one day on UA grounds to heal. Sometimes she mentions ancient history like it was yesterday.

Ectoplasm is a ghost. Like, a dead guy. Nedzu had his grave, dirt and all, moved to one of the apartments so he could “haunt” (teach) at UA.

Shoto is the son of a high ranking manager in the SCP foundation. Endeavor very much does not believe in sympathy for SCPs, and he made that clear when Shoto was locked up.

Hawks is a first responder to attacks on UA, due to his ability to “fly” between dimensions. He is also somewhat overworked.

Iida didn’t need rescuing- his parents are well respected alumni so he and his brother got in free. Having practically grown up there, he is among the few who NEVER get lost no matter how many times the school rearranges itself. Some kids joke that he is one of the many robots that keep UA functional.

Ashido ate an entire packet of Wondertainment® ExTrA sOuR gummy worms.

(2/3)

A bonus Crack backstory- the SCP UA is situated right in the regular BNHA world. Nedzu grew up in a lab like normal, but he never escaped. He just… popped out of existence one day. Twenty years later he returned, older, wiser, impossibly powerful. He sniffed the air, wandered Japan like a little cryptid, and finally found a nice hill in the woods. The next day… UA sprouted like a sunflower fell from the sky unfolded from the wrong dimension materialized from nothing APPEARED, and everyone aptly freaked out. Heroes stood guard as scientists and researchers poked and prodded at the walls, but nobody could get through the barrier. The people inside are weird and wrong but don’t seem to notice them, or even the occasional nearby villain battle. Even all might tried to break through, decades later, when he spotted a little girl get decapitated (she’s fine), but UA simply isn’t of this world. The main cast goes to Ketsubutsu, I guess. And if there are rumors of doppelgängers, of heroes swearing up and down that they saw themselves (but WRONG) inside The School, well. Those are just rumors.

!! Everyone read this this is so good!!

[kryptsune]

World Building Wednesday!~Yokaifell

🌼One of my personal favorites was chosen this week and I am so excited! It was a tie between Wiccafell and this and I just decided to do a little coin toss. I am happy to also announce that the ideas in Yokaifell will also be appearing in a more original form in the Souly Damned Universe. I will talk more about that on SD Saturday!

Yokaifell AU

Yokai Masterlist:

[Red] Ryutsuki (Ryou) 龍月- Kitsune (Kitsune Ebi- Shou & Rin)

[Boss] Kuro  黒- Gashadokuro

Doomfanger- Maneki neko (a variation of the bakeneko this kind brings good luck and fortune which I thought would be cute for the brothers. Hilariously Doomy was with Boss before he died coughs. Doomy is kind of like that cricket in Mulan supposed to be lucky but... questionable.)

Flowey: I am unsure if I am planning on putting Flowey in this or just have him as Asriel. Either way, he would most likely resemble the higanbana. These are also Red’s flower of choice, which is…ironic if you know the language of flowers.

The Dreemurrs: (this is a hard one. There are no Yokai as far as I can recall that are goat like, however there are some good candidates that could work. I have a few in mind right now and that is the kotobuki, hakutaku, shisa, Kirin or even the baku.

Undyne: Uni nyobo

Alphys: Honengyo (This is kind of the “Godzilla” idea she would just be mini XD)

Muffet: Jorogumo

Grillby: Onibi (this is a strange one because he would have to be a combination of onibi for this to work but don’t worry I am on it!)

Gerson: Kappa/ Genbu (due to his wisdom)

*{The lesser monsters would be a variation of yokai not exactly pertaining to their UT counterparts unless I can make that connection. The Underground/ Underworld, in this case, it basically the spirit realm so it’s not really necessary. They are not exactly trapped like in the original.}*

Main Plot Synop:   Frisk is a foreigner trying to start a new life across the world in Japan. I am still trying to pick a possible location in Japan but that is a minor detail. I will say that I would like it to be a little more secluded. It is also modern day (I settled on Izumo). The people she moves to live among tell Frisk of their traditions and stories but her being from the West she has a hard time understanding. Frisk is told not to stay out too late and wander the nearby forest but hey who listens to reason? She ends up getting lost, alone, and afraid. That is until a series of flame like lights presumably show her the way back to the town. This happens a few times but she becomes more and more curious by them until they lead her deeper into the forest. She comes upon the entrance of an abandoned shrine stopping before a Torii Gate as the lights disappear. These are kitsunebi by the way. Only when she is hesitant to pass through it do they appear on the opposite side.

She ends up being startled by a white haired human that seems to have just appeared out of thin air. He tries to speak to her but she barely understands the language if only a few words. In frustration the stranger steals a kiss from the shell shocked human girl only for her to suddenly be able to understand what he is saying. A still highly confused Frisk ends up learning that he is in fact a demon or rather her interpretation since she is from the West.

It turns out that in order to give her the ability for her to understand him a dose of his magic was required changing the physical makeup of her soul causing it to become desirable to other hungry yokai that roam both the spirit realm as well as the night. Not believing his claim and rather angry at his sudden advance she storms off heading back toward the village. She begins to see more than she should as spirits appear out of the woodwork.

An oni appears in front of her ready to devour the poor unsuspecting human in which she ends up running back to the gate in order to avoid the giant monster. At first Ryou is not interested in saving the human girl but it is his fault that she has ended up in this situation. He saves her but not before she ends up accidentally running through the Torii Gate attempting to dodge an attack. The beast follows and Frisk ends up trapped in the spirit realm when the monster destroys the gateway. Kuro, Ryou’s older brother makes quick work of the beast.   

The rest of the story revolves around Frisk trying to return home which requires a journey since a human does not belong in their realm and the gate to “leave” is on the opposite side of the realm. It is incredibly dangerous for someone like her to be there so she ends up in disguise with the help of Grillby and Ryou. Ryou is a kitsune so he is able to create the perfect disguise adding more magic to her soul to fool it into becoming a yokai temporarily. He is surprised to find she is the same kind as him, a kitsune. 

Their journey takes them all the way across the spirit realm to find another gate and on the way they run into a colorful cast of characters. Some are helpful spirits. Others are man eating demons that are looking for a delicious human soul to devour. At first Frisk is content staying with the brothers but a human does not belong in their realm and that causes complications. 

Yokai Lore/ Spirit Realm world: 

The spirit realm is a dangerous place that few humans have ever set their eyes on. It the world between. A space that is home to various yokai. Humans cannot naturally see spirits as the modern setting has diminished the humans that still believe in them. They are not trapped but rather there is a hierarchy that is established. The more powerful the yokai the more they are able to interact with the human realm. 

Hierarchy brief explanation (restrictions and interactions): 

Servants of the gods- Yokai that can interact with the human world during the day or whenever they see fit. They are messengers for their respective deities. They are not known to be troublesome or mischievous. 

Kitsune- A more rare type of yokai that can shift its appearance at will but mostly represented by that of a multi tailed fox. Some of them are servants of the gods but those who have no alignment can walk among the living during the day for a duration of time. When the night comes they can walk freely and interact with humans as they see fit. They are mostly known for luring humans away with kitsune ebi or fox fire.

“Boss” Yokai- Yokai gain their status by either specific species or their prestige. That can either be obtained by LV gain or doing favors for the gods. Some are hostile and some are passive it depends on the encounter. They can walk freely during the night without hindrance but unlike the two prior they cannot take form during the day. 

“Lesser?” Yokai- Yokai that are relatively weak and unable to hold a physical form in the human realm. They can move objects and possibly possess humans but they have no ability to interact on a substantial level. They can be seen by some humans as little dancing and vanishing lights. They can rarely pass the barrier as is.  

Lost souls- Lost spirits that wander between realms. They cannot interact with humans but can be seen from time to time. They are what the west consider the typical ghost.

Human Struggles Info {Plot}:

A human does not belong in their realm which also means that the world is also an enemy. The power of the soul plays a huge factor in this as weak souls are more susceptible to the world influence. There are three different outcomes that are possible for a human if they end up trapped in the spirit realm.

Dinner is served-  A large number of yokai are known for their man eating tendencies finding human souls and flesh a kind of delicacy. Some are beasts that kill for pleasure but humans worst outcome is being eaten or killed.

You’re one of us now- A strong human soul slowly can be changed. The soul decides what kind of yokai that humans can become or will become. It is entirely possible that most of the yokai were once human but it is unknown. They are usually lesser yokai or spirits.   

Lost soul- What the title implies. A soul unable to remember who they were. They wander for the rest of eternity searching for answers they will never receive. They are miserable creatures that pull others into their fate. Their depression is infectious and anyone already questioning themselves could easily find themselves among their ranks. They are not malicious only confused and desperate.  

Symptoms of becoming a Lost Soul: 

Confusion

Memory loss

Random emotional outburst/response

Physical weakness/fatigue

Relationship {Plot}:

Ryou and Frisk become close for a reason that they are both unsure about. They could be soul mates or his magic that is embedded in her soul begins to spread making her have feelings for him. Either way her love for him never wavers. A human can never fall in love with a yokai. It is not only forbidden but also very dangerous. *whoops* Their soul bond only grows stronger as their outward feelings increase. They spend the night together not understanding the consequences of that kind of action.

Unfortunately, Frisk begins to show symptoms that her soul is not powerful enough for this world and she begins to lose herself and forget. In desperation Ryou and Kuro make the decision to travel all the way to the end of realm to get her back to the human realm. When they get there she has a choice. She can stay and become a lost soul for the rest of eternity or leave and forget everything about them. Since Ryou and Frisk are soul bound she would feel a loneliness for the rest of her life unable to understand why. It is like losing a part of yourself. It hurts but she chooses the second option returning to the human world a little bit changed from before.

*Have any questions past this point be sure to drop them in my ask box! If you want to see more drop a comment and/or a reblog! 

(spoilers ahhhhead)

Epilogue {Plot}:

Though Frisk has forgotten about her soul mate and her time spent in the spirit realm she still has these feelings. She finds herself spending more and more time peacefully sitting by the gate or in the forests surrounding her home. It is calming and peaceful for her. What is even more curious is her new condition. She finds out by some miraculous way (not really she just doesn’t remember) that she is pregnant. When she has her children she finds them as normal children for the longest time until they turn 10. They start seeing things that they shouldn’t including dancing among little fire like lights that she swears she has seen before. She could swear she sometimes sees little fox creatures dancing in the flames. A trick of the light...right? 

Frisk doesn’t know but Ryou’s ability to walk in the human realm has him visiting his children and her even though she is unable to see him any longer. Sometimes she wakes up in the middle of the night feeling like someone is there. A kind of warmth that she leaves her feeling cold when it’s gone. Her two children begin to show physical signs of being yokai including little fox ears and tails which she does not seem to question. It feels right to her for some inexplicable reason. Her children eventually see their father through the gate one day and Frisk is hesitant to step through it (for obvious reasons). She follows her children only to leave the human world behind once more meeting a stranger that to her is not so strange. Her memory slowly returns his Ryou’s help and they live happily together with their kids. It turns out that giving birth to two yokai children strengthened her soul from before giving her the ability to stay and become a yokai herself. As before she becomes a kitsune.

[bikerjongho]

the library of wonder | ateez ot8

genre: historical fiction, horror, adventure, fantasy

characters: warrior!ateez ot8

description: Religious radicals in the Joseon Dynasty, the self-proclaimed Anti-Rhythm Riders cult does everything in their power to destroy anything and anyone that violates their sacred Code of Conduct.

word count: 5.8k

warnings: violence, murder, maiming, ableism, graphic description of a dead body, radical religion, blood

author’s note: what happens when you combine the library of alexandria with ateez? this fic. this is the third addition to the ateez music video series whose masterlist (which lists the rest of them) is here. Also to note that this is part 1 of a series that I will continue later. The subsequent parts will be connected to different music videos.

taglist: @itsapapisongo @mangomingki @irehlevant​ @blueprint-han​ @doievoir​ @bvlnoriyas

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Weapons were a way to show the power of a king. Mounted and gleaming, the spears of King Yoongi of the Joseon Dynasty stood on either side of his elegant and golden throne like guards at the ready. On the walls that surrounded the throne from the left and right were an impressive display of bows and an array of fine arrows to accompany them. On the floor, King Yoongi's head lolled, blood pouring out of its severed end as Hongjoong sheathed the King's sword that was on his wall only moments before.

Beside the King's head and body on the floor, his recently deceased personal guard lay with him. This was thanks to Hongjoong's two best short-distance fighters, Mingi and Seonghwa. The two of them eyed the royally red blood that gushed out of the King's severed neck as they sheathed their swords. The three of them wore nothing more than simple blue hanboks and had their long hair tied up in a topknot at the top of their head, traditional for common men of this age. But with the corpse of the most important man in the Dynasty at their feet and the smell of civil unrest in the air, the plain clothing and ordinary hair was far from an appropriate look for these men in this moment.

The King's sword was now sheathed at Hongjoong's side, but he was not yet finished with the king. Bending down to the severed head, Hongjoong ripped out all of the intricate pins and ties that the King's servants had put in his hair that morning. The King's luscious black hair spilled out at his feet, mixing with his blood and turning it burgundy. Hair was a symbol of status and power. Now that the King was dead, Hongjoong assumed he no longer needed his power. He extracted a dagger from a pocket of his hanbok and began cutting at where the King's scalp ended.

The hair obliged with the blade. Soon, the King's heap of hair rested in Hongjoong's hands, and he promptly tied it to keep the strands together. "Proof," Hongjoong whispered and shoved the hair into his hanbok. "Proof that the wretched King Yoongi is dead."

"May he rot in many Hells," Seonghwa murmured and bowed his head. Mingi followed suit, and then Hongjoong last. There was a method to their madness. They, along with a few other men, were leaders of an ancient group called the Anti-Rhythm Riders. They did no harm as long as no one provoked them. Their laws, while more modest and tight than most groups, religions, or cults, were mostly fair. But the Anti-Rhythm Riders were a bloodthirsty and arrogant group of people that took pride in their faith and murdered anyone that refused to also follow.

"You must understand," Hongjoong had said calmly to a screaming woman only weeks earlier. Despite his attempts to convert her, she wouldn't budge, leaving Hongjoong with only one choice. His eyes had darkened to a lifeless grey as he had stuck his hand into her abdomen and twisted her gut. "This is a death far more merciful than if The Chariot returned while you were still alive and not following Him," he had said, digging his nails into her body while she screamed. "Feel blessed that I have chosen to kill you and spare you of his wrath that is worse than this by tenfold."

The dead King at Hongjoong's feet was one of many who had been adamantly against the Anti-Rhythm Riders. But besides their penchant for murdering those that were not like them, their strict code of honor shaped them into contributing and positive members of society. Their code of laws requested that each member of the group brought forth the best version of themselves at all times. This included dressing appropriately and being able-bodied, so all Riders were in peak health and dressed like they respected themselves. But on the same side of the coin, it was imperative to closely follow the code of honor as a Rider, lest they be murdered in the same way a non-believer would. The Riders, no matter how devoted they were to their cause, could not step out of line.

Top physical health included never becoming blind, deaf, mute, or immobile, except in the cases of old age or a sickness, but even then, those members were socially separated from the rest of the Riders. Old believers and ill people dressed from head to toe in black clothing in order to not bring attention to themselves and their misfortune of owning a frail and weak body.

But King Yoongi had not perished because of his non-belief. Despite his non-belief, most Riders saw merit in a hierarchal leader. They had, with their teeth grit, kept him alive. What had caused his downfall was not a snap decision by a lone Rider. It was caused by The Library of Wonder.

"A man that has lost his way chooses to walk the path to eternal hell," Mingi quoted a founder as he kicked Yoongi's body as he walked by towards the exit of the throne room. Hongjoong gripped the hair in his pockets, then followed Mingi. Seonghwa followed last, shutting the doors to the throne room with a smile on his face.

When they walked outside, they were met with thunderous cries and applause. The rest of Hongjoong's elite and higher-up group stood waiting in the front of it all. Yunho, man with a spear and a smile that was a bit too comforting and cozy; Yeosang, a solemn man with a sword strapped to his side that was anything but that; San, producing an ugly and terrifying grin on his face as Hongjoong removed the King's ponytail from his pockets; Jongho, with his sharp eyes and sharper reflexes, infamous bow and arrows strapped to his chest and back, and Wooyoung, who thrusted his permanently bandaged and bloodied fists into the air and let out a cry of victory that seared across the mass of Riders and raised the temperature of their spirits.

"The King is dead, Riders," Hongjoong bellowed above the roaring crowd. "And now, we ride to the Library of Wonder." He was met with shouts of disapproval for the Library, and Hongjoong's lip curled upward. There was a section for arts and music in The Rider's code. It was allowed, but certain teachings of it, such as allowing it to manipulate emotions, was forbidden.

"There is a disease in the heart of man," The Riders heard all too frequently in their sermons and speeches. "The disease is human emotion."

The Library of Wonder promoted this diseased music. For years they had tried to defund the Library, encourage the King to focus his spending elsewhere, to change the Library so it did not promote these blasphemous ideas, and none had been successful.

"We can't have a King that has allowed such a violation of our code for this long," Hongjoong had said only a month before the assassination, neck deep in plans for the kill. His face had darkened against the flickering fire that was nearby, casting inhuman shadows across his features. The Anti-Rhythm Riders were not a majority in the Joseon Dynasty, and their following was hardly recognized as a religion at all, let alone the Dynasty's main religion - but they were a potent and loud minority.

And over the course of a year, Hongjoong had been collecting and persuading commoners with his silver tongue to join The Riders for the purpose of having an army. An army that would not only be large, but also be relentless and unstoppable. And as Hongjoong stood in front of these thousands of people fueled with anger for The Library, he believed his work to collect them all had been a success. San took over with controlling the crowd, his loud voice carrying over all of the chatter and yelling. He dictated to certain groups in the crowd to certain tasks, such as loading wood onto the backs of their traveling cows or oiling up weapons and lighters. Fire, Hongjoong had decided, would be the ideal move to destroy the library. It would burn all of the texts that he and so many others hated with no hope of replicating them.

Amidst the screams, Yunho saddled up next to Hongjoong. One of Hongjoong's most efficient and silent warriors in the team, he was an asset that had carried them far. He couldn't stop smiling. Hongjoong knew that this day was huge for him - huge for all of them. Killing the King had been a goal point of their plan. Now all that was left was to destroy The Library of Wonder.

"Do you have any hangwa?" He asked, and Hongjoong was mildly bemused at how casual he was. He had just seen him slice the arm off of a palace soldier only fifteen minutes prior.

"I do," Hongjoong answered anyway, shuffling around in his bag before pulling out a packet of hangwa, assorted Korean cookies. He pushed it towards him, and Yunho happily dug in. "Time to rally the troops," he said, starting up a conversation.

"Well, it's easy to do that when persuasion rolls off of the tongue like leaves blow in the wind," Yunho said, mouth full of cookie. Yunho was referring to The Riders' way of persuasion and how it borderlined with magical coercing. In many ways, it was magical. Hongjoong theorized it had to do with how devoted and powerful many of The Riders were. It was The Chariot's doing that allowed his followers the ability of masterful persuasion.

It was also the reason why they had amassed so many people for their invasion so quickly. Many of them had knocked on doors and preached in the streets. As long as someone could hear them, people joined their cause.

The Riders left immediately after their supplies and weapons were loaded into traveling bags and onto the backs of animals. Hours after they had left on their journey to the Library, Jongho was ready to rally the troops for a special tradition. Having just climbed onto a travelling horse, he was raised above the crowd. His long and dark hair flickered around his face as he assessed the mass of walking Riders. The time must have felt correct to him, for he then raised his arms over the crowd, a move he had done many times.

This move caught the attention of many Riders, but his projecting and powerful voice was what roped in the rest. Jongho sang a mid-range note that silenced what little noise was left from the crowd. The Riders stopped what they were doing in order to match his note. Hongjoong and Yunho followed suit out of habit. The earth rumbled with the thousands of voices of the Riders.

There was an air to the main vocalist now that all of the attention was on him. Something lurked in the darker hues of his eyes, something that looked like power, and it showed itself through how he now moved and sang. His voice, still louder than the crowd's, rose up a note. The dissonance of the pitches only lasted for a moment before the crowd went down a note, creating a harmony. Jongho closed the fingers on his left hand into a fist and the women of the Riders adjusted their note. A minor harmony emerged from the chord.

None of the voices were completely perfect, except for maybe Jongho's. But all voices bowed at the command of Jongho's hands that were, in a way, conducting an old vocal ritual created by and for their religion. The choir was used to grab the attention of all Riders, but it was used equally as a morale booster. Hongjoong glanced at Yeosang, his sword gleaming with menace at his side, and raised his eyebrows.

Yeosang caught his eyes and sifted through the crowd to him. "Why is Jongho doing the Chariot Chant?" He hissed under the singing as the swordsman came close to him. He had seen Jongho and Yeosang together only a quarter of an hour prior. And while the choir was mainly for enjoyment, it was sometimes used as a distraction from something that the higher-up Riders didn't want the rest of their group to know about. Hongjoong feared something had come up despite his meticulous planning, and he assumed that Yeosang knew about the problem if there was one. "We didn't plan one. What is he diverting?"

Yeosang, in charge of the artillery, looked at Jongho on the horse. "Some of our artillery is failing," he said, his eyes the color of stone. "Some of our men and women notified me of a few issues our cannons are having. I inspected them myself and have found that they are correct. I assume this was the throne's last stand against us." His frown deepened. "I theorize our original plan for the Library can't be used now."

A smile appeared on Hongjoong's lips, mirroring Yeosang's disapproving frown. The original plan was to partially blow up the library before burning it, suggested by Yeosang, but Hongjoong had been against it. He wanted the library to be aflame as soon and for as long as possible, but he had been outnumbered by most of his group. Hongjoong's method would endanger more Rider's lives at the expense of his selfish love for fire. Unprecedented death of Riders was certainly a reason for Jongho to begin a distracting chant. He wouldn't have started it if he had thought Hongjoong's plan would go to fruition.

"So we go with my plan," Hongjoong smirked at the artillery leader. Yeosang pursed his lips and, for a moment, said nothing.

"I will think about our other options," Yeosang murmured. "Ones that will, perhaps, be less taxing on us. Don't think for a second that Jongho's calling to action means your plan will now be enacted," he said with a hint of irritation. He said no more, sweeping himself back into the crowds towards the animals helping carry the artillery, leaving Hongjoong with his thoughts and a smile still plastered to his face.

Hongjoong was the unofficial leader of the Riders, but he still wanted to deal with decisions diplomatically. So, after an hour of caroling with Jongho, Hongjoong rounded up the seven of them to talk about their plan of attack on the library.

They formed a line as they walked and saddled beside the cattle and horses that carried the artillery. Seonghwa and Wooyoung gravitated towards Hongjoong in the line. The two of them had been the members to agree with Hongjoong's less rational plan of setting fire to the library immediately upon arrival, but they had ultimately been overruled by the other five that had agreed to Yeosang's safer plan.

"So, fire immediately?" Wooyoung asked everyone once Hongjoong explained to them their situation, but his eyes were locked onto Hongjoong. Yeosang raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Not quite," Hongjoong said evenly, turning his attention to Yeosang, who now had his arms crossed. "Let's see what our artillery man has to say."

"If the First Army successfully purged the library of people," Yeosang said, referring to a subset of the Riders that had left for the library a day earlier, "then we should have a clean and easy shot to do whatever we want to the library. Word won't spread that we invaded it until it's already a pile of rubble." Some of them bowed their heads in appreciation for that statement.

"That being said," Yeosang continued, "we have about half the amount of cannons I'd like to have. We still have swords, but that won't do much against the hard material of the building." He grabbed the hilt of his sword at his side instinctively. "We still have torches and the building is flammable."

"And bow and arrows," Yunho cut in, lifting up Jongho's bow from his back. Jongho glared at him.

"Arrows that can carry flame," Yeosang sighed, and Seonghwa's lip curled up. "I truly have exhausted my thoughts and exhausted them some more. Many weapons from home could have been used for a different attack, but we're too far to turn back now." They were all experienced enough fighters to realize where Yeosang was going.

"Fire," Hongjoong smiled, and Yeosang looked weary.

"Fire," he sighed in agreement.

Wooyoung and Seonghwa exploded into hisses of victory. Wooyoung punched his fist into the air. "Hell yes," he said, shaking his bandaged wrist in front of him.

"Should we tell them?" Yeosang asked, gesturing to the entire herd of Riders that were traveling with them as a few of the members dispersed from the group. Yeosang meant the increased danger that came with their sudden change of plans. Hongjoong adjusted the bag on his back and grinned.

"They know what they're getting into," Hongjoong smiled. "But even if they don't, they'll do it anyway. They love The Chariot too much to refuse to do something." Hongjoong flicked a cocky smile at Yeosang, who could only sigh and nod. While it was not his favorite plan, it was a plan that still accomplished the destruction of the library, which was a goal all of them wanted to achieve regardless of the means.

And while Riders didn't like injuring other Riders, self-preservation overtook any feelings they had for their lower Rider acquaintances. If Yeosang could remain without burn scars and seared lungs while someone else did, then it was simply a means to an end. The library was destined to go down by the careful hands of the Riders, one way or another.

It took another day for the riders to reach The Library of Wonder, and when they did, it was a wonder to behold. Sculpted with stone and wood, it was an incredible feat of architecture in the Joseon Dynasty. Great stone columns supported the front of the building, and a stone statue of a beautiful woman with long hair and a scroll in her hands greeted library goers at the entrance.

Wooyoung yanked out a club from the pockets of his blue hanbok and swung at the lady without warning. He took off part of her chest and her entire left arm and was met with roars of approval and laughter. "At the ready!" Hongjoong yelled over the laughing crowds, and Riders began fishing their weapons out of their pockets. These weapons were mostly bows and arrows, but like Wooyoung, a few clubs were seen. Jongho was among those with bow and arrows, slinging his trusty bow from around his shoulder to the front of his body.

But bow and arrows weren't the correct term for the weapon Jongho and many of the other Riders had. His bow and arrows were of a narrower Korean variety called the singijeon. The singijeon worked much like traditional bow and arrows, but gunpowder was held in the arrows.

He now had his bow cocked and ready and his hands clutched a wooden arrow with a ball of gunpowder nestled close to the tip of the arrow. Jongho pulled back with his left hand and released the arrow. The Riders watched as it soared through the heat of the sun and made contact with the middle of the entry wall of the Library. As soon as the arrow hit the wall, the gunpowder activated and blew a hole in it.

Many more singijeon became useful and created more holes in the Library and smoke in the air. It was almost too easy to destroy the Library. It crumbled more and more with each hit like it was destiny for the great building to fall. Soon enough, the wall was completely gone and the Riders rejoiced in their work.

Mingi appeared at the front of the crowd, a tall presence marked even more visible by the torch of fire he held in his hands. Behind him, Yeosang carried a similar torch and was passing the fire to other torches held by other Riders, who were then passing the fire to others around them like believers in a church service would. There was no fire in Yeosang's eyes despite the lit torch in his hands.

"Riders," Mingi shouted and stepped over the rubbled wall that the Riders had just destroyed. He tilted his head down and grinned while surveying the crowd. Then, he elegantly walked over to the first shelf of the Library and let his torch make contact with the last book on the shelf. It took the fire with no issues, becoming an incendiary in moments. The book was quick to share the flames with the paper around it, and soon the entire shelf glowed with fire. Mingi was quick to exit the library as Riders poured into the Library with their torches and began setting the books aflame.

Yeosang, though his eyes were grim with the disapproval of how the Riders were proceeding, was smiling. While their method wasn't the safest or most practical, the Library that had been up for so long was finally being destroyed. The eight Riders watched a safe distance away as their lesser brethren raced into the Library like packs of overexcited hyenas. Many of them likely didn't know what they were fighting for, but they were moths drawn to flame, entranced by the beauty and cruelty of destruction.

Wooyoung smiled while the fire casted red and orange light on his face. "The Library is not exactly a slow-burn, is it?" He said softly as the fire ravenously ate through the texts.

"It's not," Yunho agreed with him. "Especially with the leftover gunpowder from all of the singijeon. Gunpowder revels with fire."

The eight of them watched the Library eat itself in the flames from a safe distance away. It was comical how some Riders passionately drove into the collapsing Library with a torch in their hands and emerged with burns and much less enthusiasm. Sometimes they didn't reappear at all. That feeling caused a bit of discomfort to some of them, but Hongjoong reveled in their discomfort. It just showed how dedicated they were to The Chariot, and Hongjoong was proud of them for their dedication.

It took a half an hour for the great stone Library of Wonder to turn into a charred and wasteful hunk of rock. The papery books had succumbed too easily to the flames and all that was left on the inside of the Library were ashes and the remnant memories of books lost forever. The fire was less of a roar and more whispery and trapped now, only burning the book it was on and not passing its flame to other books.

San was now on top of a horse and rallying the troops to receive medical attention if they needed any and congratulated them on their efforts. "The Chariot is proud of us, Riders," he said, beaming. Some Riders returned a smile, others were too hurt to acknowledge San. "As our great laws say, the disease in the heart of man is human emotion. These books would have spread that harmful message had we not burned them down. For that, He is eternally grateful for your efforts."

San hopped off of the horse and joined the other seven Riders in preparing for the return trip. Behind them, the last of the flames were dying out. Riders still in the Library were stumbling out of the burned rubble. There were likely bodies of Riders that were dead inside of the Library and others that were alive but had succumbed themselves to imperfections of their physical features. And while they had given a valiant effort in destroying the Library, that was a violation of The Rider's code. They would have to cover up if they wished to remain a Rider.

But something else lurked in the rubble as well. All Riders wore blue, but a man in red was now present behind a collapsing and charred bookshelf. His ethnicity, like the Riders, was Korean, but his skin and eyes held heavy years and knowledge of many more cultures and lands that the Riders could only dream of touching. His long black hair was knotted at the back of his head, and beneath his bulging arm muscles was a lengthy silver sword with a red hilt.

But perhaps his most distinguishing feature was the long scar that travelled from his left eyebrow, through his eye, down his cheek, ending right at the tip of his lip. The scar made the left side of his lips permanently downturned. Such a scar directly violated The Rider's code, but this man was above that religion and the laws that it held. This man was Ares, the god of war. And Ares, who thrived in bloodshed and carried the spirit of warfare wherever he walked, was not impressed with the warfare that had gone on at this library.

Yunho noticed him first. He was surveying the Library's remains when he saw the man's hulking figure amidst the ashes like a phoenix. "Hongjoong," he whispered and nudged him. He nodded his head towards the Library.

Hongjoong, who was overseeing a group of Riders, looked over at the Library. Ares locked eyes with him and Hongjoong's blood ran cold. He had no idea who this man was, but he was someone that could send shivers down Hongjoong's spine. There weren't many people that could do that.

Hongjoong took a step forward to address this man, but Ares was already ahead of him.

"So-called Riders," Ares boomed across the land, his voice easily the loudest in the vicinity yet there was no visible effort on his face to make himself heard over everyone. His thigh muscles rippled as he stepped over what was left of the wall. His face was flooded with unfiltered rage.

The rest of the Riders, who had been focused on returning home, froze in their efforts. All eyes were on the giant and muscular man seething in front of them.

Seonghwa grabbed the knife at his side and glanced at Hongjoong for permission. In any other circumstance, Hongjoong would have let him have it. Instead, he softly shook his head, and held his hand in front of Jongho when he realized he was drawing his bow. There was something about this man that Hongjoong did not want to provoke, but the steam coming from his head was proof that he had already been provoked enough. Hongjoong gulped and tried to calm his racing heart.

"I'm Ares, the God of War," the muscled man thundered, and no one was brave enough to disagree with him. He certainly looked the part. Now that he was closer, Hongjoong could see the long scar across his face and wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"You-" Ares began, but he was cut off as a singijeon arrow flew through the air directly towards his face. Hongjoong turned and saw that it was from a young and male Rider, gripping his bow so tightly that his knuckles were white.

Ares didn't flinch at this unexpected attack. With a practiced and weathered hand, he caught the arrow between his fingers. The Riders were stunned. His hand twitched and the arrow snapped in half. "Cute," he muttered, letting it crumble to the ground in his hands. He turned towards the teenage Rider who had shot the arrow and gave him a smile.

Hongjoong began to step forward. He wasn't sure what he was to do for the boy, he wanted to help - but Ares was too quick. With a flick of his hand not unlike the motion he had done with the arrow, the teenage boy jerked inhumanly backward with a loud crack. With his spine completely in two, he toppled over himself backwards onto the ground. His face was lifelessly frozen in shock, and the clear God of War smiled with satisfaction at the work he had done.

A few muffled sobs prevented silence. "Let me speak," Ares said carefully to the crowd, his eyes traveling over them all like he was sizing them up. This time, no one argued.

"Riders," Ares began. "You've burned down The Library of Wonder and all of the wonders it contained. Do you even understand the weight of that action?"

Ares looked directly at Hongjoong and he felt obliged to speak. "The books hold untrue and unsafe messages," Hongjoong spoke to Ares, his knees quivering underneath his pants. He didn't remember his voice sounding so small. "We had to rid them of this world. They have no place here except as smoke and ash. It is The Chariot's wish and creed."

"And your Chariot is nothing more than a weak and ailing minor god," Ares said cooly back to him. It took everything in Hongjoong's power to not curse him out for insulting his god - but he didn't want to end up like the young Rider.

"I know him," Ares continued. "He laughs at the lengths you do for him. He himself knows he is pathetic, but he enjoys seeing humans like you quiver and worship him. And I normally don't bat an eye to his or your shenanigans, I have better things to worry about, other worlds that are far more entertaining than this one," Ares said.

His eyes darkened. "But burning down my wife's Library broke her. So, in turn, you have to deal with me."

Hongjoong realized in horror what he meant. He idly thought of Wooyoung's gleeful act of smashing the statue of the goddess at the front of the Library. He wanted to throw up. Wooyoung looked like he wanted to throw up.

"So I've made it my personal game to make your lives a living hell," Ares said with a smile. "Because no one hurts my wife." He shifted his attention, not just towards Hongjoong, but to the other seven of his teammates crowded around him. They all froze. Hongjoong felt Mingi tense beside him.

"You Riders are simply too vocal for my taste," Ares glared. "The Chariot gives you the power of persuasion because it amuses him, so you all go around recruiting mindless humans to follow your so-called religion. But it is not funny in the slightest." His eyes swiveled to Jongho and his smile widened. "Doesn't this one sing?"

Hongjoong heard Jongho intake a terrified breath. He heard a sudden movement, and then Jongho had taken off running in the opposite direction as Ares. But Jongho was an ant and Ares was a stone. Hongjoong blinked and Ares was in front of the singer.

Jongho was strong, but he was nothing compared to a god. He began screaming as Ares picked him up by the throat, crying out to the Chariot, to his mother, to Hongjoong, to anyone that was listening, but he received no answer. Tears ran down his face and he kicked to be set free. Only his scream, which vastly contrasted his usual mesmerizing singing voice, cut through the air, and then he was abruptly silenced by Ares.

Ares dropped Jongho to the ground at his feet, and the boy continued his sobs in a crumpled mess. But his sobs lacked the voice, no matter how anguished it would have been right now, that the Riders had grown to love.

"He has no more use for his vocal cords," Ares smiled, and Hongjoong's heart dropped to his feet. Jongho had loved his voice. Everyone had loved his voice. Ares looked at the rest of them, and he realized with horror that he was not close to being done with them. "A shame, isn't it?" Ares laughed and stepped over Jongho's shaking body. "Your law says you are to never become mute, lest you want to remain a Rider. Seems like a bit of an issue, does it not?"

Hongjoong tried to move his legs, but he found himself frozen in place. He wasn't sure if it was his own body trying to protect him from harm or Ares immobilizing him, but he could only stare in sickening awe as one by one, Ares stole the voices of every Rider present. For some, he waved his hand and an entire group of people were silenced. Others, like those in Hongjoong's close team, had a solo maiming in front of everyone. No one was spared from Ares' destruction, especially not Hongjoong.

When he was finished, the sea of Riders were silent.

"Now I won't be interrupted," Ares said cheerfully, worlds happier than he was when he first arrived at the library. The hulking man had taken it upon himself to move Jongho's limp and shaking form back to the other seven of them.

"You eight are especially troublesome," Ares whispered, because there was no voice that could be above him. "For that, you have a special place in my personal hell. And now, I will take you to your own personal hell."

Ares raised his hand, and the library in the horizon vanished from view. For a moment, Hongjoong could see nothing, and then a beige wall of a house clouded his vision.

Hongjoong opened his mouth to cry out, but the attempt was fruitless.

"Your own personal hell," Ares said softly, suddenly beside him. The god placed a hand on Hongjoong's shoulder, a soft gesture that a father might do to a son. "You and your seven other friends are in, what I call, a timeout mansion. It is a place that you cannot leave or escape from, so I advise you to not even attempt that. You will sit and you will gaze at the fine art and architecture that this mansion has to offer," Ares said, his words puncturing. "You will be in aching emotional pain because all of this art is, as you call it, a disease to your human heart." Ares rubbed his back while Hongjoong held back tears. "And you will grow to love it."

The god stood up from beside Hongjoong. "That is your answer to escaping. An answer that you must vocalize and preach if you are to ever leave here." Ares smiled at him, and the scar that touched his eye, cheek, and lip curled up with it. And then he was gone, and Hongjoong's hope left with him.

For a few moments, Hongjoong stared at the floor. Then, shaking, he raised his right hand.

There is a disease in the heart of man, Hongjoong thought and touched his chest over his heart. His heart was racing like he had never felt before.

The disease is in me.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Bad au Time:

The current Grian on HermitCraft is actually Rusty. Grian is still working with the watchers.

Rusty had stolen Grian's invitation to join HermitCraft, in order to escape the closet, and tried to take Robot Grian along (dude needs an actual name). Robot has definitely escaped. He just didn't want to escape with Rusty.

At some point before he had gotten into some magic (probably dark magic) and is now fully human... maybe? He does have wings like Grian.

Luckily, no really knew Grian before HermitCraft so no one is suspicious.

This is a super interesting AU! I slightly altered one little aspect of the premise but the main part is still the same, I think. Hope that’s okay and hope you enjoy! (Note: Rusty is NPC Grian for those who don’t know, like me initially lol)

...

  “Hey, Grian!” calls Mumbo cheerfully. “How are you doing?”

  Rusty turns as his friend enters the barge. He beams and waves back. “Hi, Mumbo. Hope you’re here to make some big purchases.”

  “As it happens, I need a lot of concrete,” Mumbo laughs. 

  “Well, good! I just stocked up the sand and gravel.”

  “Ah, thanks so much, Grian.” 

  Rusty steps back to let his best friend peruse the chests he had just restocked. With his background being what it is, every chestful of sand and gravel he harvests is an achievement. His code screams every time he touches a piece of concrete or a block of bricks. But he’s learned to live with it.

  He leaves the barge and gets ready to activate his elytra, but before he can, he spots purple particles floating around a tree nearby. He’s seen these particles before; he knows what they mean. 

  Rusty follows them to the hidden cave far below the shopping district. The portal is waiting for him. It looks like a regular nether portal except that the swirling vortex in the middle of it is darker purple, not magenta. He steps into it. 

  It takes him to the infinity room, as it always does. Lounging on the throne in the middle of the room is Rusty’s creator, dressed in Watcher garb. His eyes are fixed lazily on the book held casually in his left hand. 

  “Hello,” says Rusty.

  “Hi, Rusty,” Grian responds, not looking up from his book. 

  Rusty has long since stopped expecting any kind of small talk from Grian so he goes straight into his report about the goings-on in Hermitcraft. If he didn’t already know that Grian is absorbing every piece of information he’s giving, he would get the impression that Grian isn’t listening. 

  By the end of Rusty’s report, Grian still hasn’t looked at him. “Good, good, thank you. Nobody’s getting suspicious that you aren’t me, are they?”

  Rusty shakes his head. “No.”

  “Okay…” Grian nods slowly. “What about Robot Grian?”

  “My tracking systems lost Roby a few days ago,” says Rusty, using the nickname for Robot Grian that Grian refuses to use. “His energy signature just disappeared from Hermitcraft completely.”

  “Hmm…” Grian considers this. “This could be a real problem. I’ll see if I can get in contact with the admins of other worlds and ask them to look out for him. He may not have hurt anyone yet, but that doesn’t mean he won’t in the future.”

  Rusty nods. “Yes. Would you like me to say anything to Xisuma about this?”

  “No,” replies Grian immediately. “Robot Grian isn’t dangerous right now. Xisuma will just see him as a threat to be eliminated.”

  Rusty decides not to mention his last encounter with Roby. “Okay. I won’t mention anything.”

  “Good.” Grian turns his head and finally looks at Rusty. “How are you doing?”

  “What do you mean? I said everything was fine. Nobody suspects anything.”

  “No, I mean how are YOU doing?” Grian approaches Rusty and places his hand on his shoulder, before slowly tracing Rusty’s wings, identical to his own. Rusty tries not to shiver. “Any… malfunctions?”

  “No,” says Rusty, wondering why his creator is asking him this. 

  “When was the last time you built a rustic house?”

  “Last week,” Rusty replies. “I went to the desert like you said. Nobody saw me.”

  Grian nods approvingly. “Good. My work with the Watchers shouldn’t take more than a few more months, then we can swap.”

  Rusty decides to ask a question he’s been pondering the answer to for a long time. “What will happen to me when that happens?”

  Grian doesn’t reply for a moment. When he speaks again, his voice has changed. “You’d better get back to Hermitcraft before someone realises you’re missing. Be careful, Rusty.”

  “Thank you.”

…

  When Rusty gets back to the server, he goes back to his hobbit hole and automatically smiles when he sees a message from Mumbo sitting in the chest minecart. He opens it up and finds a written book inside.

  Hey, Gri. Just wanted to leave a message to thank you for your help with my villager breeder the other day. I know we haven’t had much time to hang out lately but I want you to know that I really appreciate your daily messages. I get so happy every time I read one. This is probably a really sappy thing to say, but it helps to know that you’re just a minecart away if I need you. Thank you for continuing to be my best friend :) - Mumbo

  Rusty blinks. What is this strange feeling in his chest? Is it… happiness? Mumbo says Rusty is his best friend. Rusty has never had a best friend before. His friendship with Mumbo and the other Hermits is unlike anything Rusty has ever experienced before. He is only here on the Hermitcraft server as a placeholder but this place, this little hobbit hole he has created for himself, feels very much like home. 

  But all this will be taken away when Grian forces Rusty to swap places with him. 

  Deep down, Rusty knows exactly what will happen. Grian will take his memories and cast him aside like he’s nothing. Just like he tried to do to Roby before he escaped. He won’t care that Rusty has formed meaningful friendships with all the Hermits. He won’t care about all the effort Rusty has poured into his builds. He’ll just take over Rusty’s life as if he’s been living it all along.

  But is this something Rusty has to just lie down and accept…? 

  Rusty pauses for a moment, before turning off the system currently tracking Roby. It’s the least he can do to save his old friend from their creator. Whereas Rusty’s emancipation will take longer. He has to bide his time and plan. 

  He won’t let Grian control him anymore.

[silkling]

I'd like a fanfic based off of that headcanon. I actually saw a fic on DeviantArt that inspired me to ask you about Chase and his fear of thunder storms and I think Blades would understand since he's scared of heights.

Alrighty then! I’d be happy to write it! This one was fun! I like writing Chase and Blades, they’re both cute.

———————————————————————————————————

The sky flashed outside the firehouse, and then there was a loud boom that Chase swore made the air itself shake. He flinched, his armor plating pinning tight against his protoform so fast and so harshly it made an audible sound. Here in the main garage of the firehouse, the sounds thunder and flashes of lighting seemed so much closer than they probably were. He knew he was being foolish. It was just a storm, and as long as he stayed inside it couldn’t hurt him.

The windows lit up with another strike of lighting, and the thunder boomed once more. Before Chase even realized what was happening, base processor functions took over and he was folding into his alt mode, peeling backwards and away from the open garage door, and skidding to a stop on the large elevator pad that would take him to the bunker. It started lowering, and as soon as there was enough space for him to not scrape his roof he was gunning his engine, flying off the pad and landing on the floor of the bunker to skid to a harsh stop. He transformed back to his root mode, quickly making the pad lift back up, and sealing the bunker from the upper floors of the firehouse.

There was silence for a beat, and then a much more distant crash of thunder sounded. Chase flinched, his plating clamping impossibly tighter. The sounds were much more faint down here, dampened by thick, heavy stone and earth. Even so, it was just loud enough to be heard. But…Chase supposed that this was better than being in the garage. That would be worse.

It would be even worse if he was with the others. They’d gone on a camping trip to the forests of the mainland, where they were apparently going to be so far from civilization that the Rescue Bots wouldn’t have to worry about being seen. The plan had been to camp out in a large cave on on top a cliff to watch the storm, since apparently this type of storm was some for of rare meteorological event. Graham had assured him it was mostly harmless and they’d be safe as long as they stayed out of the thick of it, and even if things went wrong there was a cabin owned by Doctor Greene nearby that everyone would fit into and be safe at.

Chase had very politely opted out of that trip. He had no desire fo be out in the middle of a storm, in the middle of nowhere. Just being at Griffin Rock in the middle of it was bad enough. He’d told Chief Burns he wished fo stay behind and review human law and order systems. A lie, of course. He was too tense to focus on anything of that sort. The others had all gone, and now he was alone here. He was starting to think it would have been better to ride this out with friends.

The police bot forced himself to move, turning and walking stiffly to the couch. He fell back onto it, turning on the TV and rising the volume as high as it would go in an effort to drown out the noise of the storm. When he could hear no thunder over the sound of the human entertainment system, he finally allowed himself to relax.

“Chase? You didn’t go on the trip?”

The unexpected voice made Chase shoot to his pedes, his previously relaxed frame tensing and his armor clamping tight once more. He turned to the speaker, and it took his frazzled processor a moment to recognize the slim frame of his teammate. His vocalizer clicked several times, spitting a blaat of static before he was able to make it work.

“Blades?”

“Yes?” Blades seemed confused. “Chase, are you alright? Are you hurt? Is that why you didn’t go with the others? I can treat you if you need medical attention.” The copter bot walked closer, his hands uncurling from where they’d been tucked against his canopy to flutter nervously in front of him.

Chase took another moment to force his processor to work, and he shook his helm slowly. “I am–I am unharmed.” he stated. “I remained behind to study human law practices.”

Blades stopped in front of him, helm tilting. His audial fins only had limited movement capability, but they still twitched very slightly with his visible confusion. “You were watching one of Dani’s weird human romance movies.” he pointed out.

He felt embarrassment rush through him, and he ducked his helm. He quickly picked up the remote, turning down the volume so they could speak without having to raise their voices. “Yes. I, ah–“ he struggled to find an excuse. He had to change the topic. “Why are you here?” he blurted out. “Did you not go with the others?”

The copter shook his helm, his hands tucking up again his canopy again, as he always seemed to do when he wasn’t using them or gesturing while he talked. “Dani wanted to fly in the storm. She said it was safe as long as we stayed out of the pre-determined lightning zones and that it would just be like a theme park ride but I didn’t really want to.” he said.

“Oh.” Chase blinked, and was about to open his mouth when there was a very, very loud crash of thunder, and then bunker itself shook around them.

His optics blew wide, the blue burning so bright they practically glowed white. A high, distressed shriek left his vocalizer before he was even aware of it and he was shoving himself back into the couch, making himself as small as possible and pulling his field in tight, armor clamped so closely to his frame none of the seams were visible or individual plates were even distinguishable. Blades stared at him in alarm, then in two quick strides he was there and crouching by the couch. His field expanded to wrap around the police bot, emitting soft, soothing feelings.

“Chase, it’s alright. You’re safe down here.” Blades assured. He cast a worried glance up, then tilted his helm. “That last one felt like something nearby might have been struck. I have to go check, but I’ll be right back, okay?” he said. He waited for a response, but after a minute where it seemed it wasn’t getting one he was forced to give up and go check.

Chase was alone, then. Air squealed past his vents in harsh wheezes, and he couldn’t make himself calm down. All he could focus on was the memory of getting struck, the feeling of the bolt hitting his chest, burning so hot it scorched and melted the metal of his chestplate into a twisted mess. He hadn’t allowed himself to show how it affected him then, but he’d been terrified. Lightning couldn’t kill a Cybertronian. Not a single strike, at any rate. But for those with thinner armor or smaller frames, a single strike could do permanent, crippling damage. He’d been extremely lucky, he knew.

After the wound on his chest had been healed, it had only taken three days or so for his systems to recover from the powerful electric attack and for the pain to stop. But the fear had remained. He’d realized that if he was ever struck again, he might not be so lucky, and he could be permanently, irreparably damaged. With the risks lightning posed to Cybertronians, especially to Cybertronians of his build…he would almost prefer if the only thing he had to fear from getting struck was death. At least then, he wouldn’t have the risk of his systems being permanently crippled.

He didn’t realize that his vocalizer had started clicking with his distress until he felt a hand on his shoulder and a EM field wrap tightly around him. For a moment, his panic grew, but then he recognized the field pressing around him and his engine hiccuped. His vision was blurred and staticky, and it took a moment for it to clear enough for him to see Blades. His friend was staring at him in open concern, his rotors all but vibrating at his back with his worry.

“Chase? You with me?”

“I–What–I’m sorry–“ he gasped, only for the copter to cut him off.

“No, none of that! It’s fine.” Blades scolded gently. “Come on, you need to vent. Your frame is overheating and your fans aren’t enough. Vent, deep and slow. Follow me.” he said, venting in the pattern he needed the police bot to follow.

Chase shuddered, his armor audibly rattling with it, and he followed Blades’s lead. After a moment, his frame stopped feeling so hot, and he was able to calm. There was no thunder, not that he could hear. All he could hear were the hums of his and his teammates systems and the noise of the TV. He reset his vocalizer, remembering why Blades had left.

“Was anything damaged?”

Blades shook his helm. “No. The lightning just struck pavement. There’s a scorch mark, but no damage.”

Chase nodded. “Good, good.” he whispered, sounding distant. “Blades, I–that is, I should–I mean–“ he cut himself off, forcing himself to try again. “I…I wish to apologize.”

Blades blinked, looking startled. He shifted from where he was crouched in front of Chase, sitting next to his friend on the couch instead. “Apologize? What for?”

“I am acting foolish. The lightning cannot hurt me. It cannot even reach me. Yet…” he trailed off, ashamed of his own fear.

Blades blinked. “You’re not foolish, Chase.” he said, tone gentling.

Chase looked at his teammate, his optics just a little too bright. “My fear is irrational, Blades! It helps no one and only causes inconvenience!”

Blades didn’t flinch under the force of his yelling. “So?” His audial fins flicked. “Fear is often irrational.”

“Perhaps.” Chase seemed bitter. “But my fear makes me a liability. What if a storm occurs while we are on a mission? It could keep me from doing what is needed of me.” he stared at his lap. “The others will think poorly of me, I am sure of it.”

“Chase.” Blades’s voice was firm. “You’re not the only one with an irrational fear.” At his back, his rotors fluttered pointedly. “The team doesn’t think any less of me for my fear, do they?”

Chase turned a startled look to his friend. “Of course not! That would be foolish! Your fear does not stop you from performing your duties! We have no reason to think less of you, and you are no less of a bot just because you are scared of heights!”

Blades smiled. “So, why wouldn’t that be true for you?”

Chase froze, blinking.

“I know how guilty fear can make you feel, Chase. Believe me, I understand. And one day, you may have to confront it head on for a mission, but if that day comes I know you won’t let us down. It’s alright to have fears, and it’s alright to avoid the things that scare you if you have that option. You just can’t let your fears define you or stop you from living your life.” he said softly.

Neither bot said anything for a long moment. The only sounds in the bunker were those of two Cybertronian systems running and and mundane human commercial from the TV. Then Chase broke it.

“You are…you are correct. Thank you, Blades.”

Blades beamed, nodding. His rotors twitched happily at his back, and he settled down more comfortably. “Good! Now, how about we find something to watch and drown out the storm?”

Chase let out a huff of laughter. “I would like that.”

The copter nodded, then he shifted again, moving until he was leaning against Chase’s side. He knew his teammate wasn’t as tactile as him, so he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. “Is this okay? Physical comfort helps me when I get scared. Back on Cybertron, if I got really nervous, my brothers would usually hug me.” he said distractedly, flipping through the channels on the TV to find something to watch.

Chase blinked. “You have brothers?” he turned that statement over in his processor. “You have spark bonded siblings? Blades, what happened…?”

Blades froze, then sagged. “Don’t tell the others.” he whispered. At Chase’s nod, he continued. “I have brothers.” he confirmed. “Four of them. I’m gestalt. I don’t know where they are. The bond was active and I could hear them before we went into stasis, but after we got out…” he trailed off, resetting his vocalizer before he was able to continue. “The bond is muted now. I don’t know if it’s because of distance and time apart from them, or because they’re–“ his voice cut off. He forced himself to finish that sentence. “Because they’re dead.”

Chase stared at his smaller teammate for a long moment, then he wrapped his arms around him and tugged him close. “Perhaps, tonight, we can comfort each other.” he said.

Blades was startled, and then he laughed weakly and nodded. He shifted, rearranging himself until he was folded and tucked neatly against Chase’s frame, and then he relaxed. “I’d like that.” he grinned.

Chase found himself smiling as well, and his contentment grew when Blades finally picked one of the humans’ true crime shows to watch and dialed the volume all the way up. The remote was set down, and then both Rescue Bots were curling even further into each other, enjoying the physical comfort they could offer one another.

Outside, the storm raged on, but it went unnoticed to the two Cybertronians in the bunker below. Neither bot had stopped being afraid of their fears, but they both knew that didn’t matter. They had each other, and in that moment, that was all that really counted.

———————————————————————————————————

And there it was! I like to headcanon Chase and Blades as Amica, so a tiny bit of that may have slipped into this. I hope everyone liked it! And for more information on the original ask that spawned this and some of the background info, click here.

I love writing for Rescue Bots. It’s the perfect medium for found family and fluffy friendship. I need more of that in my life. I’ll be posting another request fic soon, btw! And if anyone wants to shoot me an ask about one of my AUs or any headcanons I may have, I answer those pretty much as soon as I get them.

Until next time, folks!

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: Main Story 7-30 Translation

Translation Masterlist | Video

Chapter 7 – Rains of Monte Cristo: 7-1 / 7-3 / 7-5 / 7-7 / 7-9 / 7-11 / 7-13 / 7-15 / 7-17 / 7-19  ♦️ ♦️  7-20 / 7-22 / 7-24 / 7-26 / 7-28 / 7-30 / 7-32 / 7-34 / 7-35

Content Warning: This section contains topics that may be uncomfortable to some readers (mentions of abuse). Please proceed with discretion.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

NXX Base

After deciding on what to do, Marius and I rushed to the base.

Marius: Just import the surveillance footage and Hang Jiahe’s photos into the system.

MC: Okay.

I followed Marius’ instructions, entering the necessary information into the computer and started the program. On the common screen, large amounts of data started to move again. Fluorescent blue lights flashed past, casting a mottled light. Ten minutes later, the data search and comparison stopped, and the final comparative results displayed itself.

MC: Based on the results, the “Qi Yu” who started to appear at 9pm was indeed Hang Jiahe. Plus, she appeared in the surveillance 6 times in total.

Marius: Three of those times were to enter the apartment – 12pm, 8pm, and 9:45pm individually.

Marius: The other three times were to exit the apartment – 7pm, 9pm, and 10:15pm individually.

I carefully looked over the brown silhouette that appeared in the screenshots and confirmed her identity.

MC: That’s got to be Hang Jiahe.

MC: The figure that appeared at 8pm and 10:15pm is wearing the same brown trench coat as the one I saw at Hang Jiahe’s house.

MC: She even rolled up that stack of dry-cleaned clothes she’d brought back, like she didn’t want us to see.

Marius: So we can figure out what Hang Jiahe’s trail of actions were on January 28th.

Marius grabbed a random sheet of paper and started to write as he spoke.

Marius: First, Hang Jiahe returned to the apartment at 12pm. After confirming that Hang Fei and Qi Yu were home…

Marius: She entered Room 1001 using the safety route near its door and murdered the two victims.

MC: At 7pm, Hang Jiahe left the apartment and headed to the suburban villa. After, she disguised herself…

MC: And secretly re-entered Room 1001 at 8pm.

Marius: At 9pm, she disguised herself as Qi Yu, and asked the security guard downstairs to help her move the two suitcases with the bodies in them.

Marius: At 9:45pm, she carried the empty suitcases back to the apartment. The bodies probably were placed elsewhere by then.

Marius: So she had completed the illusion that “Qi Yu was still alive at 10pm”, and her alibi with it.

MC: As for her leaving at 10:15 in disguise, she probably went to dispose of the corpses and then returned to the suburban villa.

Marius: Probably.

Marius: After disposing of them, Hang Jiahe also buried the swapped hammer that she’d long prepared with them.

MC: Then Hang Fei and Qi Yu last appeared at…

I looked at the surveillance footage.

MC: 12:30pm on the 28th. Hang Jiahe had not left the apartment yet.

At this point, we had completely figured out the process of Hang Fei and Qi Yu’s murder case.

Marius: But is the evidence we have now insufficient?

MC: Yes, though the logic’s sound…

MC: We lack objective core evidence to accuse Hang Jiahe with, especially her motive and murder weapon.

MC: The opposition will easily refute a few photos and some inferences.

Marius: …It won’t be easy to solve the murder weapon issue. Hang Jiahe always wears gloves, so she wouldn’t have left fingerprints.

Marius: But for the motive… let’s wait for Captain Morgan’s analysis results on that hard drive.

Marius: If it’s as the bar boss said…

Marius had just spoken when his phone rang.

Marius: Speak of the devil – see, Captain Morgan’s calling.

Marius: Captain Morgan, is anything the matter?

Darius Morgan: We’re finished analyzing the photos and hard drive you gave us.

Marius: What are the results?

Darius Morgan: They match with what the bar boss said.

Darius Morgan: There are many videos of Hang Fei’s child abuse, as well as domestic violence against Qi Yu, in the hard drive.

Darius Morgan: But based on the people featured in the photos, we are missing the videos that feature the child that appeared the most.

MC: (Hang Jiahe must have bought the videos of her abuse…)

Marius: Have the identities of the other children in the photos been confirmed?

Darius Morgan: Aside from Hang Jiahe, the children in the photos are not from Stellis.

Darius Morgan: Hang Fei and Qi Yu traveled overseas, so these children just might be from those countries.

MC: (It’s a transnational case now?)

Darius Morgan: How are things on your end?

MC: We’ve figured out how Hang Jiahe got the fingerprints on the murder weapon and how she created her alibi, but…

Marius: We lack direct evidence.

Darius Morgan: What about the video she took away? That evidence should be convincing enough.

Marius: But the question is, where is that video right now?

MC: The boss said before that he advised Hang Jiahe to not destroy those videos for now…

MC: Undestroyed… but can’t be found by the police…

MC: Can’t be found… so they should be hidden… hidden…

I had a flash of inspiration.

MC: “Liqing Bank”!

I thought of that useless-looking membership card in Hang Jiahe’s house.

Both Darius and us headed out at the same time towards the Liqing Bank in the suburbs, but due to distance, we arrived before Yan Wei. Marius used his own connections to find the manager to ask about Hang Jiahe. The manager admitted that Hang Jiahe had opened an account here and kept things here, but he refused to tell us which was her vault.

Vault Room

Manager: My apologies, but our rules state that unless if our client asks or the police issue a search warrant…

Manager: We cannot allow any others to open the safes.

MC: This…

Marius: We were just in contact with the police in front of you, and he said that he would be bringing a search warrant over immediately.

Marius: Even with that, you can’t let us see Hang Jiahe’s vault?

Manager: My apologies, but we must see the documents first, per our rules.

Marius: …

The male manager looked calmly at Marius.

MC: Then we…

I was about to speak when Marius tugged at me.

Marius: If so, we won’t trouble you anymore. When the police arrive, we’ll come again.

Marius then tugged me to leave, walking out without looking back once. However, we’d just turned past aa row of shelves when he suddenly tightened his grasp on my wrist and took me into the shadows of another row of cabinets.

MC: Marius, what are you doing?!

Marius: Shh, quieter. Don’t let the manager know that we haven’t left.

I took a deep breath and lowered my voice.

MC: What are you trying to do?

Marius: Of course, I’m trying to find Hang Jiahe’s vault.

Marius: Since he won’t show us openly, we can only wait for it in secret.

MC: Are you aiming to open the vault secretly?

Marius: Of course not. Opening vaults in banks like this is usually a complicated procedure.

Marius: Some need two keys, some need biological info… all in all, without the owner, they’re very hard to open.

MC: Then you want to…

Marius: I want to follow the vault.

MC: ???

Marius: Based on how this bank’s operating guidelines, that manager is sure to contact Hang Jiahe that people came for her box.

Marius: And with how cautious Hang Jiahe is, she’s sure to come get what’s in the vault herself.

Marius: I’ve calculated the timing – Hang Jiahe’s place is closer to here than the police station is. Even if she receives the alert and heads out only now…

Marius: She might get here earlier than Captain Morgan.

Marius: To prevent the evidence from getting taken, I decided…

Marius took out his phone and opened up the screen for Darius’ shared location.

Marius: Before Captain Morgan comes, we’ll follow the manager secretly and prevent him from taking Hang Jiahe’s box away.

MC: Can we really?

Marius: Of course, why not? Nothing will happen.

Marius: Jiejie, just trust me this once. If anything happens, I’ll just apologize to them.

MC: Then… alright. If anything does happen, I’ll go with you.

MC: What do you plan to do?

Marius: Look around first.

I looked around, per his instructions. Liqing Bank’s vault room was very large, and there were many vaults in it. Above the room, at set intervals, there was a full-scene camera rotating nonstop to monitor the whole room. Aside from that, there were also bodyguards on patrol in the vault room to prevent suspicious persons from moving about.

MC: There are a lot of bodyguards and surveillance cameras. How are we supposed to follow him?

Marius: Don’t worry, just listen to me.

Marius: I just observed that the patrolling bodyguards will pass by the same place around every 5 minutes.

Marius: As for the full-scene cameras above, I can’t tell if there are any blind spots for now.

Marius: But we’re luckily wearing dark clothes today, and it’s dark here.

Marius: We’ll just stick to the walls where the light doesn’t reach – maybe we’ll get by.

MC: Why do I feel like we’re acting in a spy movie…

MC: Then how should we move? We’re pretty far from the manager right now…

Marius: See that old table in front?

Marius pointed at a table that was around several tens of metres away from us and stacked with random items.

Marius: That table’s in a pretty subtle spot. People outside can’t see in, but we should be able to see out from inside.

Marius: When the nearby guards move away, we’ll head under that table.

Marius: On my count – when I say 1, we’ll move.

MC: Okay.

I took a deep breath, focusing my attention on the table.

Marius: The guard’s almost about to leave.

Marius: 3 – 2 – 1, go!

I held my breath and rushed to the corner.

MC: Huff – huff –

I supported myself against the table, suppressing my sounds as I gasped.

Marius: A-are you alright?

Marius’ breath was also somewhat short, probably thanks to our nervous moods.

MC: I’m alright. You?

I turned around to look at Marius, but the scene before me stole my breath away in the next second.

Marius was awkwardly crouching under the table, and the height that he was usually so proud of had become a sort of sweet “burden”. Maybe because the air circulation was bad, or maybe because the crouching pose was tiring him, but his face was somewhat red. Under his opened collar, there were small drops of sweat rolling down his fair neck. He breathed lightly, and each of his movements and breathing sounds became unusually heavy in this tiny space.

MC: …

Marius: Hm? What are you looking at me for? Is there something on my face?

MC: T-there isn’t…

Marius: Then… did you get fazed from staring at me?

Marius: Though I do like it when you stare at me, since we’re this close…

Marius: Even I’d get embarrassed.

MC: This close…

MC: !!!

My rationality returned, and I belatedly realized just close we were.  

MC: S-sorry, it wasn’t on purpose, I was just…

I apologized as I attempted to pull away from him, but I hadn’t moved much when Marius suddenly pulled me back.

Marius: Don’t move. If you keep pushing, you’ll bump into the table.

Marius: This space is tiny – best not to move at random.

MC: …

I could only stiffen my body and not move in the slightest. The tiny space sunk into silence again, and I could clearly feel Marius’ gaze on me, never shifting away. And my heartbeat became more and more intense, along with this gaze.

MC: W-why do you keep staring at me…

Marius: I’m just thinking that right now…

Marius: Your heartbeat and your breaths only belong to me.

Marius: It’s great…

MC: …

Marius: But this is too little. It’s not enough compared to what I want…

MC: !!!

MC: M-Marius, you…

Marius: Oh well, now isn’t the time.

Marius sighed quietly and shifted his gaze away.

I tried my best to calm my heartbeat and refocus my attention. Simultaneously, the manager, who’d been lingering in some shelf row for a while, finally moved.

Manager: Hello, Liqing Bank. Is this Miss Hang?

Marius and I exchanged a glance.

Manager: Two people just came to see the contents of your vault.

Manager: Yes, a man and a woman, and the woman was a lawyer.

Manager: Don’t worry, I did not allow them to open your vault.

Manager: You want me to take a video for your confirmation?

The male manager spoke as he strode to a shelf in the corner, then used his phone to take a photo.

Manager: Look, it’s been well taken care of – no one has opened it.

Manager: Alright, I will send it to the back door for you.

The manager hung up and pressed a button on the side of the safe. After a small electronic startup sound, Hang Jiahe’s vault suddenly disappeared. The manager walked to an elevator on the side.

MC: Where’s the vault?

When the manager had completely left on the elevator, Marius and I carefully got near the vault shelf.

Marius: Don’t worry, it’s been sent elsewhere – should be the back door.

Marius: Let’s follow.

MC: Sure.

Following behind the manager, we boarded the other elevator beside the vault shelf.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

MC: How did we end up in another warehouse?

Marius: …

Marius: Follow the manager first. If anything else unexpected happens, we withdraw immediately.

MC: Okay.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

Marius: Where’s the manager?

MC: In front!

MC: We’ve already been following him for over half an hour…

Marius: Is the back door of Liqing Bank that far? We’ve got to get through a warehouse and then a basement…

MC: Marius, could he be leading us in circles?

Marius: …

Marius: … But Captain Morgan’s almost here, and Hang Jiahe’s been held back by him too.

Marius: We can’t just give up here.

MC: Then let’s keep following. If things don’t change, we’ll give up.  

Marius: Okay.

✼ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✼

The manager finally stopped at the back door of the bank warehouse.

MC: Why isn’t he walking anymore?

Marius: …

Marius: This is bad, let’s go back…

Manager: The two of you, stop hiding. Come out.

MC: …

Marius: …

We could only walk up to the manager.

Manager: CEO von Hagen, what are you trying to do here?

Marius: Didn’t I tell you my request before?

Manager: Then I’ll have to reject you once more. No…

Marius: Wait.

Marius looked behind the manager and suddenly laughed.

Marius: This time, you can’t refuse.

Manager: Wh…

Darius Morgan: City Criminal Investigation Police Brigade, Captain Darius Morgan. Please cooperate with our investigation.

Darius Morgan: This is the search warrant.

[writtenonreceipts]

29 I thought ypu were dead aelin and aedion

Thanks so much for the prompt!  I had fun with this.

Slight Canon divergence—Alternate Aelin and Aedion reunion.  Mostly because I can’t remember how the actual scene went…it’s been a while since I’ve read the books.  Oopes.

And it is deff longer than I intended it to be.  My bad…

#

Reunion

The body slumped against the stone cobble of the tavern wall with as much grace as a sack of potatoes. There was nothing special about the body.  No significant rings or emblems.  Even his coat was second rate.  

As Aelin stared down at him, she almost regretted her actions.

Almost.

She wiped her knife clean on the edge of the man’s coat and left him there, his throat sliced open like a second mouth.  Aelin looked into his dead eyes, dull now that the dark blue hue appeared black.  Not even the oil lamps over head could illuminate anything in this alleyway.

Aelin stood and sheathed her knife.  She knew she should keep it out and ready.  The night had only just begun and she had deeply intricate plans of how she would spend the night.  She kicked the foot of the dead man and left the alley.

Tucking her cloak around her, Aelin slunk through the shadows.  While she couldn’t see him, she knew Rowan was lurking somewhere nearby. The ass felt it well within her right to take care of this part of her training without any help from him.

Not that he was helpful to begin with.

Aelin paused at the corner of the street.  There was something wrong with the night.

Standing just out of reach of a streetlamp’s dull glow, Aelin peered into the night.  She couldn’t sense Rowan nearby.  He was likely in his hawk form on a rooftop somewhere.  No, there was something else disturbing the peace of the night.  Something…familiar?

Aelin scowled.  She was supposed to be gathering intel on traitors to Maeve and Wendlyn.  She was supposed to be gutting men and women for their secrets.  Using their own lies against them.  She was supposed to be proving herself worthy for her own birthright.

“Where are you?” she whispered into the night.

The village she was stalking was relatively small.  There was only one main square for businesses before the main road peeled off to homes and farmland.  It truly wasn’t the most exciting place to be or find secrets hiding in the dark corners.

That did not mean, however, that there was nothing to be learned here.  Aelin only wished that she didn’t have to kill everyone she spoke with.

Not that the last man didn’t deserve it.  Not with his wandering hands, his vile tongue, and the fact that Aelin knew exactly how many mistresses he had.

Aelin shook her head. She needed to focus.  There was something in the darkness of this sleepy village that watched her.  And it wasn’t Rowan.

Never one to walk away from her problems, Aelin cast one more look over her shoulder and then stepped off the cobbled road of the village and into the forest beyond. Rowan could follow if he wanted, but Aelin was certain there was something far more menacing in this village than a grumpy old Fae warrior and herself.

Another cold breeze rushed through the trees.  The branches overhead groaned and rustled while the dead leaves on the forest floor skittered about.  Aelin pulled her cloak tighter around her, making sure the hood kept her face covered. Having the cold air assault her face was the last thing she wanted.

As she moved deeper into the trees, Aelin could have sworn she heard footsteps behind her.  If she had better control—more control—she would have been able to tell for sure who or what was there.  For now, she remained alert.  After all, hunting things in the night was one of her specialties.

The snap of a tree branch had Aelin spinning one direction when another force came up from behind.  She spun around again but found nothing but trees looming over her and shadows crawling across the forest floor.

Baring her teeth, Aelin hissed into the wind.

She didn’t have time to try and call out to Rowan when a massive shape barreled into her.

Yelping, Aelin and her attack fumbled in the dirt and debris of the forrest floor.  She managed to free her knife from its sheath only to have her attacker whip her around onto her belly, knife flying from her fingers.

Fae.

A damned Fae.

Growling, Aelin struggled in the strong hands of the Fae.  The hands holding her tightened and she was yanked up, send headfirst into a tree. Aelin barely managed to catch herself before breaking her nose.  Her cheek and hands certainly were scraped up by the rough bark of the tree.

“Who the hell are you?” she snarled.  

Aelin grabbed from the second dagger hidden in her boot.  Brandishing it, she stared into the empty void of the forest.  Her attacker disappeared.

“Little killer, little killer,” a low voice sang.  It wasn’t Rowan.  Aelin knew that much.  But there was something, something familiar about it.  “And I thought you’d put up a fight.”

“Show yourself bastard and I’ll give you a fight,” Aelin said.  She spun the dagger in her hand and strained to listen to the sounds of the forest.  Anything different, any steps, any change in the air.

The Fae moved for her. Aelin met him with her dagger slicing up for his belly.  He rolled from the attack and Aelin only managed to rip the edge of his cloak.  

His legs swiped for hers and they were on the ground again.  Aelin tried to swipe at him—to hit flesh, bone, anything.  It didn’t matter.  He blocked her every move before he got one large hand wrapped around her throat.

Gasping, Aelin dropped her dagger and reached up to grip his hand.

The male chuckled and drew leaned over Aelin.  His face was cast in the shadows of his cloak, but Aelin could still see a sharp smile on his mouth.  She scratched at his hands, his wrists.  This was not how she would die.

Where the hell was Rowan?

Overhead, moonlight broke through the cloud coverage of the night and filtered through the empty tree branches of the wood.  Finally, Aelin was able to see better than the blue and gray shadows of the night. If only she could breathe.

But the male leaning over her froze.  Something caught his attention because he swore and rolled off of her.  

Immediately Aelin gasped for air, her hands going to her throat to massage the tender skin.

“Hell,” she croaked.

Before she could recover properly, the male had a dagger out and aimed directly at Aelin.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

Aelin continued trying to breathe.  Answering him didn’t seemed to be very important.  In their scuffle her hood had fallen and now she had dirt and leave in her hair.  Shaking the mess out, she scowled at the Fae and his still covered face.

Now that they weren’t fighting to the death, she could tell his was a large male.  Tall, broad shouldered, well-built.  He wore fighting leathers and a loose tunic tucked into his breaches.  Wisps of blonde hair flew out from his hood.  

There was nothing overtly familiar about him.  Yet still, Aelin couldn’t shake the thought from her mind…she knew him.

“Don’t make me force an answer from you,” the male said.

Aelin stared up at him. The dagger in his hand gleamed in the moonlight. It was a beautiful weapon.  Well-crafted and balanced.  If she made it out of this alive, she’d have to figure out a way to steal it from him.

“Tell me your name and I’ll tell you mine,” she crooned.  

She half expected a chuckle, a curse, something other than the dead silence.

The Fae took a step closer until the blade of the dagger kissed Aelin’s neck.

“Who. Are. You.”  His voice took deadly edge, far sharper than the weapon at her throat.

Aelin cocked her head. The bite of the dagger on her skin wasn’t anything special, hardly noticeable.  Even when the small bead of blood slipped down her neck.

“Aelin Galathynius,” she said.  She was trying to discern what this male was on about.  The sooner she could figure that out, the sooner she could get out of this mess.

The words were no sooner off her tongue than the Fae had a hand at her throat again, the blade to her belly.  He pulled her to her feet.

“Liar,” he hissed.

The sudden motion had his cloak shifting and his hood fell from his face.  And Aelin found herself looking into his eyes.  Her eyes.  Ashryver.

Her mouth went dry and her muscles taut.  She’d heard rumors of the wolf.  Adarlan’s Whore.  She didn’t want to believe them.  Didn’t want to think of her cousin, her once best friend as such a monster…

“Aedion,” she whispered.

“Who are you?” he snarled.

Aelin gaped.  He was handsome, she’d always known he would be. A strong jaw, straight nose, golden blonde hair.  They could have been siblings.  They practically were.

Against her better judgement, Aelin reached a hand out to rest on the side of his face.

“Aedion,” she repeated. “By the mother, look at you.”

And he was stumbling back as through Aelin’s words, her touch, had burned him.  Breathing deeply, he ran a hand through his hair and stared.

“It’s not possible,” he said.  His gold and blue eyes were wide and wild in the moonlight.  “I didn’t want to believe that captain and what he said.  It’s not possible.”

Aelin couldn’t help the tears that burned behind her eyes.  The slipped down her cheeks as she looked at him.

“I thought you were dead,” Aedion whispered.

Dragging her hands over her wet cheeks Aelin shook her head. “I may as well have been.”

As he sheathed his dagger, Aedion kept shaking his head.  His eyes never left Aelin though.  It was as though he believed she would disappear the second he looked away.

“I never wanted to believe what happened,” he said.  “I wanted to…I tried to…”

Aelin stepped forward holding a hand out to her cousin. “I know,” she said, “I know what you did.”

And looking into his eyes, Aelin started to understand a little bit of why he did those things.  Because not only were their eyes the same color—they had the same regrets, the same horror painted in the iris’.  

“Aelin.”

Without any warning, Aedion rushed forward and pulled Aelin into a bone crushing hug.  For the first time in a very long while, she finally began to feel like she was returning home.

#

Thanks for reading.  My ask box is always open, my messages too!

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[pixiebuggiewrites]

Sorry Wrong Number!

Masterpost - Previous - Next - Ao3 link

Chapter 2:  Hawkmoth has really bad designs and perhaps even worse timing

Since it was her off night from patrol, Ladybug was the last one onto the scene. She landed down on a building next to Viperion, who was observing the akuma’s skillset as Kuro Neko played distraction down below them.

The villain of tonight's look was... interesting to put it nicely. They were a boy around the same age as the heroes that seemed to be wearing a slightly oversized purple and blue three piece suit with a not-so-subtle lightning pattern running up the arms. His hair was shock white and seemed to be defying gravity while his eyes were protected by bright blue goggles-possibly where the akuma was residing. More importantly, he seemed to be covered in electricity, which was gonna make it difficult to get any hits in. He also had a laptop with him- another contender for the akuma’s hiding place but most likely just a weapon.

Not Hawkmoth’s worst design, but it definitely wasn't his finest work either. Though to be fair she had run around in spotted spandex for two years before she found out she could change her costume, so those in glass houses she supposed.

Viperion, noticing the team leader's arrival began to fill her in on what they knew so far.

“They're calling themselves ‘Elect-Trick’, keeps sending out shockwaves to try and knock us back which is frustrating but our suits seem to take the brunt of it which helps but Neko’s staff is a no go at the moment since there's no way to know if it’ll conduct the electricity.”

It likely would, something they had found out the hard way during the last weather akuma they had to face. While magical it was still metallic in nature sadly, which meant she needed to also be careful with her yoyo. She still isn't really sure what it’s made of besides magic, but this was not the way she wanted to find out.

“Alright, in that case we’ll continue to keep him away from the Eiffel Tower, it’s likely the akuma’s going to try and use it as a large conductor. I’m gonna head down, stay up here and be ready to use your second chance at the signal.” She instructed

Viperion nodded and went back to watching the fight just as Ladybug swooped down to join in. She was just in time as the akuma had begun to corner Neko, who had no choice but to rely on playing defense while her staff was out of the mix. The two heroes nodded their heads in greeting as Ladybug yoyo-d her cat themed friend over putting the duo back on even ground with the villain, who seemed to be ranting about school elections of all things.

Which would be a probable explanation for the first half of his name.

The two continued to fight back against the akuma, neither side quite able to grab the upper hand. Ladybugs yoyo-as it turned out, did not conduct electricity afterall. And, seeing as it's practically indestructible she was able to land hits on the akuma without getting shocked. But the akuma had realized the issue with Neko’s staff and was using that to their advantage, aiming a decent chunk of their attacks at the cat hero which forced them to go back on the defense.

As the fight had been going for over an hour at this point, the spotted heroine decided to bring out the big guns. After doing a silent signal letting Viperion know to start his timer, she got in position to call on her lucky charm.

But she didn't get a chance to. Just as she went to throw her yoyo in the air, Viperion called out a warning that sent a feeling of dread through her.

“LB watch out, There's an amok headed straight for the computer!”  

Sure enough, there was an all too familiar purple feather floating through the air on track for the laptop that she quickly caught and purified it before it could land. Thank the Kwami for the power of second chance, nobody wanted to deal with a sentimonster on top of everything else tonight.

Keeping Kuro Neko on the lookout for anymore feathers, She finally activated her lucky charm. Throwing her yoyo up she manifests… a slingshot! She could work with that, just needed to find ammo. Looking around her eyes land firmly on the window of a small toyshop.

Bingo!

Having Viperion keeping an eye out in case he was needed temporarily as backup, she sneaks over and breaks the window with her yoyo. Typically, the heroine would feel bad about causing this much property damage but tonight she’s tired and wants to get this over with so she can make a plan of action for the whole ‘Mayura seems to be back’ thing with her team and maybe get at least a couple hours of sleep. Anyways her miraculous cure would fix the window and return the bouncy balls she was actively stealing so no harm done? After finishing committing what was technically a misdemeanor, she made her way over to the roof Viperion was on and handed off the slingshot supplies before making her way back down.

Luckily Neko had managed to keep Elect-Trick distracted enough for the team to catch him off guard. On Ladybugs call Viperion began to pelt the Akuma with rubber balls, drawing his sight away for long enough to tie him up and take his glasses. One cataclysm later, the teen had been successfully deakumatized and she was able to cast her cure, fixing the decent chunk of property damage caused that night. After making sure the teen was okay to get home safe and getting his address for the interview she would have to conduct later, she turned to her team.

“Good work today guys, let's meet back at base in 30.” Her eyes communicated the urgency of the meeting despite the neutral tone of voice she tried to maintain.

From there the teens all departed in separate directions to recharge their powers and head to the team's secret base.

----------

Okay so secret base was a bit of an overstatement. It is a secret place that the team uses as a base of operations but it was less of a Batcave and more of a repurposed hotel room in Le Grand Paris.

Chloe had brought up the idea after one too many close calls with Marinette's parents while the girls were investigating Hawkmoth. They needed a place to discuss hero work safely without having to talk in code but the question was where. Obtaining an apartment would be difficult as all of them but Luka were still underage, not to mention the issue of trying to pay rent without any parental suspicion. Luckily for Chloe, it's surprisingly easy to just claim a hotel room without being questioned when your Father owns the hotel.

And while it was no Batcave, it wasn't anything to scoff at either. The four teens had been able to pool together enough money in the beginning for the basics, which meant that now any small snuck away chunks of commission money, music gig payments, competition winnings, and allowances were all able to go to improving things bit by bit.

The room was already quite nice, having a separate bedroom that they used as a gym and a kitchenette that was kept well stocked with kwami snacks. Then there was the  main area, which had been split down the middle. The first side was dedicated to the investigation and housing Marinette's Guardian materials, While the second half was a hangout zone where they could chat or decompress after any particularly rough fights.

The base was also secure, Marinette had put so many spells and protections on the room with the help of the kwami that it might as well be a pocket dimension of sorts. The magical security system of sorts was extremely complicated, being tied to the teams auras in a way so that the only way to even find it without being one of them was to be taken there by Ladybug herself. It had taken weeks to pull off but was well worth it to give her team a place that was safe from the outside world.

Ladybug was the first to arrive this time, having flopped down into a chair at their meeting table as her two friends entered the room and joined her. They all sat there for a moment, processing the fact of Mayura’s return. Of course this would happen when they were down a member, it wasn't a complete surprise that the peacock miraculous would come back into play at some point but it was really bad timing.

“So what exactly is the plan?” Viperion asked, finally breaking the silence.

Ladybug sighed, knowing that their workload was going to increase once again. At least it was close to summer vacation.

“First we need to increase patrols- especially around the typical hot spots, Neko do you think we’ll be able to finish those jars by this time next week?”

The cat hero nodded “They're almost done, we’ll need to test them somehow though.”

The two of them had recently been working on a variation of an object enchantment technique mentioned in the grimoire. The original object was dubious in nature, having been used as a cage of sorts that kwami wouldn't be able to phase through. Marinette was disgusted by the thought, further feeding into some suspicions she had about the old order. As she was ranting about it to Kagami about it, her fencer friend got an idea for a way to repurpose the spell to trap akuma when Ladybug couldn't easily get to a fight. It would also allow them a new way to prevent possessions when Ladybug wasn't actively on patrol.

“That's good. Lastly I need Bee’s new number, I was going to ask you for it tomorrow but I need to give her a heads up to start on a new case file. We also might want to move up our plans to contact the heroes there.”

Kuro Neko quickly jotted down the number on a nearby notecard and handed it to Ladybug. After hammering out a few last details about their new patrol schedules the heroes were all free to head home for the night.

The trip home was uneventful, and she arrived home to see that it was just past midnight. She also noticed that her bath bomb had been fixed! It was sometimes a gamble on if something like that would count as akuma damage so it was a nice victory after the day she’s had.

Marinette quickly put in Chloe's number, eager to get to bed. She sent her blonde friend a summary on what happened and let her know to be on the lookout for an email tomorrow with the information to assemble a case file. And with that, Marinette drifted off to sleep.

She had made a small mistake though. In her tired state the young designer’s finger slipped, putting a 5 where there was meant to be a 4.

Meaning Chloe Bourgeois was not the recipient of her intended message.

Good thing she wrote the message in code?

----------

Across the ocean, Damian Wayne received a strange text message.

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

Taglist (open!!): 

@queencommonsense

[duhragonball]

Battle Tendency Liveblog JJBA Ch.48-52

This is the “Joseph vs. Straizo” arc, so I’ll just lead off with one of my favorite moments from the entire JoJo franchise, when Joseph furiously declares war on Straizo with tears in his eyes.   In the anime, voice actor Tomokazu Sugita delivered this with such intensity that it actually overshadowed the machine gun.

None of the dubs or translations can do it justice, including this panel from the JoJo’s Colored Adventure scanlation project.   This is a faithful translation of Joseph’s line, as far as I can tell, except they always leave off the last part: “宣戦布告だぜ!!”  In romanji, that’s: “Sensen fukokuda ze!!”    And it means  “This is war!!”  

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Last time, we saw the Joestars treating their new friend Smokey Brown, to dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant.   Some mafia jerk caused trouble, Joseph whooped his ass, and then a second mafia guy apologized and shared a rumor he recently heard: Robert Speedwagon was found dead in a Mexican riverbed, apparently killed by a Tibetan monk.  

From there, we see that Joseph immediately realizes that this must have been Straizo, and Erina suspects that it must have something to do with the Stone Masks and the battle with Dio fifty years ago.   Smokey warns Joseph to consider the source, but Joseph is pretty sure it’s credible information, since mafia guys are all about money.   I’m not sure what that has to do with whether he’s telling the truth, though.   Either way, Joseph slugs the guy for just blurting out such terrible news in front of Granny Erina.  

Now, at this point, Joseph and Erina are making all these Phantom Blood references, and Smokey has no idea what they’re talking about.   And I think seeing this panel helped me understand Smokey’s role as a viewpoint character.  When the Part began, it seemed like Smokey was sort of the narrator for the thing, which works because he’s a good viewpoint character, and he seemed to be settling in as a sidekick like Speedwagon and Poco in Part 1.   But shortly after this he just vanishes from Battle Tendency altogether, and then he shows up at the end like it’s no big deal.   I never quite understood that, and I think this is the sort of thing that fuels the “Araki forgot” memes, but it actually makes a lot of sense.  

See, Smokey’s primary function is to be the viewpoint character, specifically for the readers who missed out on Phantom Blood.    BT is a direct continuation of the previous part, in a way that none of the other JoJo parts are.   Most of the main BT cast was deeply affected by what happened in Part 1.   A few of them lived through it, and the ones that didn’t have personal connections to it.    So they constantly talk about Stone Masks and Dio without really stopping to explain any of it.   Well, if you don’t know what they’re talking about, you can take heart in the fact that Smokey doesn’t know either.   So as long as he can keep up with the story, so can the uninitiated readers.  For now, all that matters is that he’s impressed by the Joestars’ great kindness, and he’s intrigued and disturbed by these hints of a tragic past in their family.  

And eventually, Smokey learns just what happened to the Joestar Family, or at least everything that the reader needs to know to follow Part 2.   But that doesn’t happen until near the end, which is why he shows up to hear the secrets revealed.   But for most of the story, he steps aside, because that’s mostly about Joseph dealing with events in the here and now, so Joseph can act as his own viewpoint character.  

But is Speedwagon truly dead?   The story flashes back to the previous night, after Straizo killed his own disciples and clobbered Speedwagon.   They’re in this temple where Speedwagon discovered more Stone Masks, like the one Dio used, but Speedwagon also discovered an immortal man petrified in a stone column.    Straizo was enlisted to destroy this “Pillar Man” with his Hamon power, but instead he wants to use one of the Stone Masks to turn himself into a vampire.  

Before he does this, he reads Speedy’s translations of the writing on the walls of the temple.    The ancient Aztec cultists who built it said that the Pillar Man was immortal and had many powers, but he was vulnerable to the sun, just like the vampires from Part 1.   But the writings warn that the Pillar Man created the Stone Masks because of this weakness, and one day, “when he befriends the sun, the world will be his.”  That doesn’t seem to follow, since the only thing the Stone Masks seem to be able to do is make new vampires, who are just as vulnerable to sunlight as the Pillar Man.   

Anyway, Straizo doesn’t seem to care.   He just doesn’t want to die of old age, and he’s become disillusioned with the Hamon power he has, so he’s turning heel and going full goth on us.   To avoid Dio’s mistakes, he plans to eliminate any witnesses, including Joseph and Erina.  Then he’ll go into hiding and figure out a long term plan, with the rest of the world unaware of his existence. 

You know, now that I write that out, I’m amazed by how similar that plan is to what Dio ends up doing in Part 3.   In Part 1, he set about turning a whole town into zombies, and planning to unleash them on the world without any real agenda.    But in Part 3 he eventually holed up in a swank mansion in Cairo and took great pains to stay hidden while he acquired more power.   Parts 5 and 8 carry that same idea even further, with villains who go to great lengths to cover up their very existence.   

At any rate, we only see Speedwagon pass out in this scene, so it’s unclear whether he actually dies or not.   Really, using Speedwagon in this way is a pretty smart play.   He’s an old man, and he was never going to survive another 50-year time-skip into the next part, so it’s safe to assume that Part 2 is his swan song.   But how will he die, and when?   It could be at the very start, or maybe somewhere in the middle.  

Anyway, Straizo just walks up to a cafe in New York to confront Joseph, and Joseph whips out a machine gun and shoots his ass.   This whole time, Straizo had assumed that the untrained grandson of Jonathan Joestar would be easy pickings, but Joseph’s a lot more skilled with Hamon than he expected, and he’s tricky too. 

As Joseph fires on Straizo, he recalls how worried Erina was about all this.   The story kind of glosses over it, but Joseph seems to have worked out Straizo’s entire plan.   I guess that’s not much of a stretch.   He and Speedwagon were together with a temple full of Stone Masks, and then Straizo turned on Speedwagon.    Why else would he do that, unless he used the Stone Mask to turn into a vampire like Dio did?   And once you arrive at that conclusion, it isn’t hard to figure out what Straizo’s next move would be.    And that’s how Joseph was so prepared for this.    After the shooting stops, Smokey freaks out about Joseph murdering a dude, but Joseph was expecting a vampire the whole time. 

I also like Joseph’s line in the flashback.   Erina isn’t worried for herself, but for Joseph, because it looks like he’s being pulled into this same tragic fate as the rest of the family.   But Joseph resolves to face this head on.    “If this is my fate, then I accept it.”  Pretty sure Will Zeppeli said the same thing when he discovered that he would die saving Jonathan.  

There’s similar “call-to-adventure” moments in the other parts.   Jonathan has his when he accepts Zeppeli’s offer to train him to battle Dio again.  Jotaro has his when he defeats and saves Kakyoin, then learns what’ll happen to his mother if he doesn’t go.   Josuke has his when Angelo shows up and he has to avenge his grandfather.   Giorno kind of always had a hankering to take on Passione, but I think things got serious once he had a choice between killing or sparing Bruno.  There could be no turning back from that point.  For Jolyne, it was the moment she had a clear path to escape the prison but decided to go back in because that was where her enemy was.    For Johnny, it was that one battle where he chose to crawl towards the danger to save Gyro instead of withdrawing to safety.   For Gappy... I’d have to study that a bit.   

But for Joseph Joestar, it’s this moment.  Erina never sent Joseph to learn the Ripple from the Hamon monastary, and she seems to have taken great pains to keep him out of trouble, but now trouble has come to them, and Joseph isn’t about to back down.   

So yeah, bullets don’t actually kill vampires, but Joseph was hoping to destroy his head with some of those shots, or at least slow Straizo down long enough to finish him off.   Instead Straizo reveals that he has the power to shoot high pressure fluid from his eyes, the same move Dio used to kill Jonathan at the end of Part 1.   He calls this “Space Ripper Stingy Eyes” which is either stupid or brilliant depending on your mood, I guess.   He used it to protect his head from the machine gun fire, and then he uses it again to shoot Joseph... except he hits Joseph’s reflection in a nearby mirror, and I guess he didn’t notice the real thing standing behind him.

What makes this fight so awesome is that these two are determined to kill each other, and they each have extremely simple moves to defeat one another, but they have all these tricks and schemes to protect themselves.   Joseph manages to hit Straizo with Hamon, but it does nothing... because Straizo was a Hamon master before turning into a vampire.   He can’t use the Ripple without destroying himself now, but he still knows how to defend against it.   For instance, he’s got this scarf woven from dead bugs, because it conducts Hamon energy far more effectively than his own body.    So it just absorbs Joseph’s attacks and disperses the energy harmlessly away.   

Does it really have to be made of dead bugs?   I feel like Tonpetti just told him that as a prank.   “No, really (snort!) the only thing that works is dead bugs.  (tee-hee!)   It smells awful but you have to wear it (ha!).”

But Joseph has his own tricks, like... putting a dozen grenades on his opponent’s back when he isn’t looking!  Seriously, there was zero opportunity for him to do this.    One moment he steps over Straizo’s body to see if he’s still alive, and the next moment he supposedly planted all these things on his scarf.   I get that he could pull a string connected to the pin without being noticed, but that’s the only part that makes sense about this.   It’s still awesome, though.   If Jonathan had access to explosives, Part 1 would have been a lot shorter.  

I really think this was the battle that set the tone for Stand Battles in later Parts.   Araki loves these off-panel tricks in combat, and they’re a lot easier to explain when all of your characters have magic super powers.   If Joseph had Hermit Purple in this fight, there’d be no problem at all.   He could just use Hermit Purple to snake through the ventilation shafts and hook up all the grenades.   In fact, it’s tempting to suggest that Joseph was unconsciously using Hermit Purple throughout Part 2, but I don’t want to get into that right now.

Anyway, explosions don’t stop vampires any more than machine gun fire.   Straizo’s body is in pieces, but the pieces just slither back together and regenerate.   Wait, wouldn’t his head have been vaporized in that blast?   Also, Straizo spends the rest of this battle in the nude, so we know that stupid scarf is out of the equation.   Why didn’t Joseph just go back in the cafe and finish Straizo off while he was still in pieces?

Again, it’s easy to say “lol Araki forgot”, but I think it’s a lot more sensible to suggest that Joseph forgot.   As clever as he is, he went in with the Ripple, a machine gun, and a dozen grenades, and Straizo had an answer to all three.   He doesn’t want to press the attack because he’s out of tricks.   All he’s got left is another Hamon attack, which means Straizo will see it coming.   Or he’s still worried about the scarf, and hasn’t realized that it’s gone now.    In any event, he’s running away, creating some distance before Straizo can make his next move.

Also, there’s a lot of bystanders gathering around, so it makes sense to take the fight elsewhere.   Some guy named “Bruty” tries to stop Joseph to impress his girlfriend, but that backfires spectacularly.  Was Bruty in the anime?  I feel like he wasn’t, but I don’t want to check. 

The one I do remember is this girl photographer.   Spider-Man hadn’t been invented yet, so in those days photographers just sort of wandered around with their camera, waiting for Spidey to debut.   This exploding vampire diner is the best she could do in 1938.  

I just really like this lady.   There’s a spark in her eye and I just assumed she would end up being Joseph’s love interest by the end of the story.    Well, we’ll get to that.  

Instead, she’s a hostage.  Joseph and Smokey run to the Brooklyn Bridge?   I guess?   It’s a bridge, I’m sure of that much.   Anyway, Straizo catches this lady and takes her with him to intercept them.   He threatens to kill her unless Joseph faces him again.   But Straizo offers to spare Joseph and never trouble him again if Joseph runs away.   This is because Straizo figures that if Joseph chickens out now, then he’ll never be a threat to Straizo in the future, no matter how powerful his Hamon abilities become. 

Joseph tries to call his bluff, but then Straizo rips out one of the girl’s teeth to prove he means business, and Joseph gets furious all over again.  I don’t think he was ever planning to abandon this fight, but he was probably hoping to get Straizo to give up his hostage at least.   Now he’s just pissed, and Straizo is impressed.  Joseph tries to act cool, but he just can’t hide his passionate feelings.    This is in stark contrast to Jotaro, who wagered his own soul in a poker game and bluffed his way to victory. 

So Straizo tries again with the Space Ripper Stingy Eyes, but this time Joseph blocks it with two shot glasses charged with Hamon power, and then he lands the decisive blow.   But before Straizo dies, Joseph demands to know why Straizo dumped Speedwagon and the others in the river.   Not only does Joseph want to give him a proper burial, but he doesn’t understand why Straizo would have dumped them in the river, since that was how Joseph knew to expect him.  

Wait, I thought Straizo wanted Joseph to know he was coming.   Oh well.

Anyway, Straizo explains that he had to do it, because the Pillar Man was absorbing the blood from his victims.   Straizo was worried that the Pillar Man might awaken, so he put them in the river instead to be safe.    Nevertheless, he suspects that the Pillar Man will reawaken eventually anyway, and Straizo now realizes that it will be Joseph’s destiny to face him some day.    Then Straizo just uses the Ripple one last time, and self-destructs. 

It always seemed strange to me that Straizo saw the danger of the Pillar Man and just left things the way they were.   Maybe he planned to deal with him later, or maybe he just didn’t know or care about it until Joseph defeated him, and he felt a moral obligation to warn someone. 

I guess he could have destroyed the Pillar Man like Speedwagon wanted him to do in the first place, but it seems like Straizo didn’t realize that blood would wake him up until after he was already a vampire, and unable to use the Ripple.  For that matter, it remains to be seen if Hamon will work on Pillar Men.   

Anyway, what else is going on?   Oh, yeah, Europe is getting closer and closer to World War II.   The official start of the war is usually considered to be September 1, 1939, but Italy invaded Ethiopia in 1935, and Japan invaded China in 1937, and Germany annexed Austria and conquered Czechoslovakia in 1938, the year Battle Tendency is set.  So we’re in this weird time period where there’s Nazis in the story, and the British-American protagonist doesn’t care for them, but isn’t trying to kill them on sight.   I’ll be coming back to this topic later on. 

I think the main reason for including Nazi Germany in this story was to draw parallels between their goals and those of the fictional villains.    The Nazis believed themselves to be the “Master Race”, the most “evolved” people, and this made them worthy to rule the world.   Araki notes that they turned to all sorts of sci-fi/occult/fantasy stuff in their war.   Similarly, you have villains like Dio and Straizo turning to mysterious Stone Masks for spooky powers, and then you have the Pillar Man himself, who apparently sought the means to “befriend the sun” and rule over the world.    So the Nazis fit into this theme of trying to claim some sort of supremacy over other beings.  

But what’s their role in this story?   Well, the Germans have an “information base” in Mexico, run by a guy named Stroheim.   He makes pretty ladies shave him with a straight razor, and if he gets a nick he makes them lick the blood off, and then he threatens to cut off their tongues.   Also, he trained his dog to not eat treats until given permission. He’s a sick fuck, is my point. 

Wait, no, my point was that his staff discovered the bodies that Straizo dumped in the river, including Speedwagon, who’s still alive, somehow.      I guess Straizo was going to finish him off but he got in a hurry when he saw the Pillar Man absorbing the blood from the others.  Not sure how Speedwagon survived that ordeal, but Stroheim’s men have been taking care of him this whole time, and he was unconscious until recently, so it might have been touch-and-go for a while. 

            Back in New York, Joseph doesn’t know what this is all about, but he decides to go to Mexico himself to get to the bottom of it...