#though I don't see why we need deadly weapons

[666writingcafe]

House Call

A Text Conversation Between Diavolo and Solomon

Diavolo: Are you awake?

Solomon: Yes.

Diavolo: Where are you?

Solomon: At MC's place...why?

Diavolo: Perfect. We'll be there shortly.

Solomon: Diavolo.

Solomon: What happened?

Diavolo: I'll start from the beginning: I got kidnapped by some sorcerers.

Solomon: WHAT?????

Diavolo: Specifically, Avarius and his group of cronies.

Solomon: FUCK

Solomon: I fucking hate that guy

Solomon: Like he was part of the reason I got kicked out of the Society even though I founded it

Diavolo: Well, he's not too happy about our presence in the human world. He seems to be under the impression that I'm using MC as a weapon.

Solomon: WHAT the actual FUCK

Diavolo: He called them a half-breed.

Solomon: *gif of someone narrowing their eyes angrily*

Solomon: How DARE he insult MY apprentice????

Diavolo: What have you been teaching MC, exactly?

Solomon: ?????

Diavolo: I have my reasons for asking.

Solomon: Well...

Solomon: I've taught them some basic spells and combat moves.

Diavolo: Define basic.

Solomon: You know...the fundamentals. Nothing too complex yet. Not until they have their license.

Diavolo: That's going to be a LOT more difficult now.

Solomon: Why????

Diavolo: Your DARLING apprentice has killed a man.

Solomon: ??????????????????????????????

Diavolo: They along with Belphie helped rescue me, but obviously we had to fight our way out. One of Avarius's people managed to cut Belphie's arm, and MC must have saw it, because the next thing I know they pulled out a knife and threw it with deadly precision into this guy's chest.

Solomon: Well shit

Solomon: That is certainly beyond anything we've done together.

Diavolo: Part of their power comes from their emotions. The rage they felt upon seeing Belphie hurt drew that out. They became a beacon of light by the time we got out of there, and they were ready to head back in there and continue fighting. I was struggling to restrain them, Solomon. I'm one of the strongest demons in the Devildom, and yet it took a lot for me to keep MC from running.

Solomon: Are they okay, at least?

Diavolo: They're currently passed out in the backseat, but they're not hurt. I figured some time in their home would help recharge them. Plus, I do NOT want them around the others right now.

Solomon: Understandable.

Diavolo: I don't think you do, Solomon. The MINUTE we got in the car and started driving, Lucifer called MC's phone, and I had to deal with him yelling at me for fifteen minutes.

Solomon: *laughing crow sticker*

Diavolo: It's not funny.

Diavolo: Like, I know he was worried about MC and Belphie leaving without a trace, but that was because I instructed Belphie to not tell him because I KNEW he would blow up like this if he discovered I was kidnapped.

Diavolo: It's bad enough that the Society is down one sorcerer. If he was there, they would have been down six members, and that might as well be a declaration of war against the human world. As it is, I have to figure out how to explain this to the Society, because in Avarius's eyes, MC's actions have proven his point.

Solomon: But you didn't make MC kill that guy.

Diavolo: Doesn't matter. As one of the head sorcerers of the Society, he has the ability to influence his colleagues into believing whatever he wants them to. If he says that I possessed MC and made them lash out against one of their kind, then that becomes the truth.

Solomon: Is it wrong for me to be lowkey impressed by what MC did?

Diavolo: In this particular moment of time, yes. Just wait until I get this straightened out with some of the more reasonable people in the Society before you start gloating. Please.

Solomon: *thumbs up emoji*

Diavolo: We're almost there. Belphie's going to drop MC and me off at the front door before heading back to the manor. I'll need your help getting MC settled in.

Solomon: *thumbs up emoji*

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick

[musickgeek]

The Same {Bucky Barnes x Reader}

Third Person P.O.V.

The Avengers stealthily boarded the cargo ship, covered by the darkness of the night. They had spent months chasing her, The Reaper. Another deadly soldier who Hydra had used to replace the Winter Soldier. She seemed to be popping up everywhere, and the Avengers were sure she was up to no good. She left death behind her as if she were truly the one to wield the scythe and lead the souls. But the killings had stopped two months ago, and she was on the run from them. They were glad for the spared lives, but frustrated at how the clues to find her got scarcer and scarcer.

Fury's sources had tracked her this ship exporting various weapons out of Africa. Though it seemed to have no connections to Hydra or any smugglers on their radar, it was definitely a dangerous and illegal ship. Still, they had to focus on the target above all else. If she was traveling with military grade weapons and explosives, it did not mean good news.

The team split up, searching for her. And who should find her first then her predecessor, Bucky Barnes. "I've got eyes on her," he whispered into the intercom, "on the bow, portside. She's going through the crates." Before Bucky could engage, a rumbling came from within the ship. "Explosive going off in the hull. Everyone get off the ship!" He heard Natasha call. Bucky saw the Reaper start running, and gave chase with determination. Every attack against Hydra felt personal to him, he wanted to make them all pay. He wanted them to lose.

He grabbed her by the back of her jacket, which made her whirl around, freeing herself from his grasp. She put her arms up as if this were a mere sparring match. "Soldat de iarna. El trăiește până la urmă." Bucky was caught off-guard. Romanian? "Soldatul de iarnă a murit. Omul adevărat a trăit."

"If you call doing someone else's bidding living." She snapped, lunging at him with a left hook. The both swing and dodge and miss until The Reaper finally caught Bucky in the gut. She tried to run, but he recovered enough to grab her ankle. It proved to be a futile effort and the explosions in the ship got closer and more violent. A large blast no more then hundred feet away releases enough force to knock them over board into the water below. 

(Y/n) P.O.V. 

I gasp for breath when I get to the surface. My body aches from the impact, and I growl at the  frustration of being caught. The Winter Soldier pops up about ten feet from me, trying to contact his team. I assume it's no use when he slams his hand into the water. More explosions come from the ship making it increasingly more dangerous to be around. The soldier spots me, and begins swimming toward me with malice in his eyes. "You guys blew up the ship? Aren't you supposed to be the good guys?" I snap. "We didn't do this! Why were you on that ship, Reaper?" He growls. "That's a need to know basis." I look around and spot something in the distance. Without waiting for his response, I start to swim away. "Where do you think you're going?" He calls.

"There's land about a mile that way, and I don't see your team anywhere around here. Not that I would find their presence real welcoming. Think you can keep up?" I ask mockingly. "I'm a super soldier with a metal arm. I think you should ask yourself that." He snaps.

"Ah, you wouldn't let me drown, would you?" I ask, already swimming again. He responds gruffly. "That remains to be seen." The water swirls around me, rough and choppy and dark, but warm enough. Its terrifying and threatening, part of what makes the ocean so beautiful. The perfect killer. The soldier ends up few yards ahead of me, and reaches the sand before me. He glares at me the whole time I pull up. "The hell do you want?" I hiss. He ignores the questions.

"The other Avengers will find us soon. When they do, you'll finally be caught." I clench my teeth in anger. If only he knew. Maybe he wouldn't be such a douche. But he doesn't deserve to know. He doesn't deserve a thing from me. "Not if I find a way off first. Or get rid of you. Or Hydra beats them." I notice the slight change in demeanor. I realize he fears them. I smirk. "What? Can't even handle the word? They fucked you up good, didn't they?" He stalks towards me, real close to my face. "Shut up." He quickly grabs my wrists, cuffing them before I can react.

Dammit. I've lost my touch.

"Kinky," I retaliate. "What part of 'shut up' don't you understand?"

"The 'up' part. Why is that the phrase to tell someone to stop talking?"

"Smart ass...you shut your jaw up-why am I having this conversation? Let's just go. We need search for food, a clean water source, and a signal."

"Well, I can't help with my hands tied and all, so I'll just sit here, and-"

"Your legs work. I'm not leaving you alone." He grabs me to make sure I don't separate. He has an intense look as he walks like in a movie. I sign in defeat, too tired from the swim to argue. This is going to be...interesting. I need to find a way to escape or, like he said, the Avengers will capture me.

~~~~~

We survive the first few days with a great struggle. Although we were both trained for this situation, how to survive while stranded in many environments, we spend too much time at each others throats to get much done. 

"You're doing it wrong."

"I'd like to see you try and do this while your hands are cuffed together, jackass."

Things calm down after what I'd guess to be a week in. We give up on being picked up anytime soon, and any escape. He uncuffs me, deciding I'm more helpful with the free range, but keeps a close eye on me. Two weeks in, and I give up on escaping entirely. Either Hydra will find me and use me again, or the Avengers will find me and kill me. I think I prefer the ladder.

"I never would have guessed your friends were so incompetent. I mean, we weren't that far from the wreckage." I say one afternoon. We lie in the sand under the shade of a tree. Where he once would have ignored or argued with me, he instead says, "You know? Me too. They managed to find me after all." 

"You must be delirious to be agreeing with me." I joke. He chuckles. "Maybe." I roll over so we're looking at each other. "What's your name?" I ask. "Your real one, I mean." He narrows his eyes at me, as if trying to figure out the hidden meaning. "Why do you care?"

"I'll tell you mine in exchange." He still looks skeptical. "Come on, shouldn't we try to work together here?" He's silent for a moment. "James Bucannon Barnes. My friends call me Bucky." I snicker at the name. "Bucannon? What are you, a 100 years old?" 

"Yes." He answers with such intensity that I don't even think to question it. I know what Hydra is capable of. "Oh. I'm sorry." He shakes his head. "Your name." It's not a question, but a demand. Maybe I shouldn't hand over that information, but it's been so long since I've introduced myself or heard my name that I can't help myself. "(Y/n) (L/n). I don't know what my friends call me. I'm not a 100 years old though." He shakes his head again, but with humor this time. "You can laugh, I'm hilarious, 'Bucky.'" I mock. Now he frowns. "We're not friends."

~~~~~

"You know, Barnes. I bet we could build a pretty decent raft with the stuff around this place. We can't stay here forever." Though we had found springs of fresh water, were able to fish and forage, and could find shelter in small caves, I didn't want to spend the rest of my life here. I want more from the life I was dealt. "And go where? We don't even know what direction land is in, and we would lose the vital resources we have. We'd likely end up lost at sea, and die of thirst."

"Then stay here. I'll go without you. You guys want me dead anyway." I insist stubbornly. "That's not- I don't want you to die, (L/n). We're not your precious Hydra. We want to put a stop to your massacre." He spits. "At any means necessary, even killing me?" I ask for confirmation, but I know the answer. "I won't let you condemn yourself to death." He insists. I'm shocked at his phrasing. Maybe it's just him remembering himself in my place, but it's the most care someone has shown me in a long time. "Okay, Barnes." If he's shocked by my easy compliance, he doesn't show it. I drop the issue, even after a month of being stuck here.

~~~~~

I sit on the shore while Barnes uses the makeshift spear to fish, yelling at him still. "You don't know anything about me or what I've done! You think you're so high and mighty? You've done everything I've done and worse!" He doesn't respond, but his stabs at the fish get more aggressive. I notice the wave getting darker, rougher, and faster. "And now what? You wanna prove you're so manly but catching nothing? Get your head out of your ass, Barnes. There is a storm coming, come back to shore." He stops, and turns to face me, not making a move toward me. "So you can yell at me more? I already know what I've done. You can't insist I know nothing about, Reaper. I've been studying you for months. Do you have any remorse?" 

Before I can answer, A huge wave crashes over him. He falls over. "Barnes! Look out!" Another wave seems to wash away because I lose sight of him. "Fine, let the idiot drown." I growl to myself. I take a few steps towards our shelter before stopping. "Dammit." I turn back, and sprint towards the water. The water is rough and cold, but I dive in anyways. I'm coming, I'm coming, My lungs burn by the time I find his motionless body floating toward the bottom of the reef. I kick hard, and grab him under his arms. Jeez he's heavy. With massive struggle, I drag the dead weight onto shore. I'm exhausted from the ordeal, but still fly into panic when I realize he isn't breathing. I can't be stuck here alone. I can't let him die. He deserves more from this life too.

I begin the compressions. "Come on, Barnes. Come on. Don't give up. I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. You're not a bad guy, you didn't serve it. Come on, please. Barnes?" His body shudders underneath my hands. "James?" His eyes fly open, and he gasps. "Bucky!" He sits up quickly and coughs up water. I sigh in relief. I rub his back a little to ease him. "Let it out, it's okay." Once it's up, he lays back, heaving a little. "You okay, Barnes?" He looks at me, smiles slightly, and says, "Bucky." My face scrunches in confusion. "What? Did almost drowning scramble your brain?"

"You called me Bucky. You panicked. You care about me." He mocks, sitting up. I quickly get defensive. "I do not. I just can't have your friends thinking I killed you."

"Sure. You don't care even little that I die?"

"...It'd get boring around here."

He chuckles. "Thank you, (Y/n). I guess you saved my life."

The usage of my name feels so personal, but right. I frown. I can't get attached, I have to keep running. "Well you can make it up to me. When they come for you, the Avengers I mean, don't tell them I'm here. Please. Tell them I escaped, I drowned, anything." His good mood turns sour again. "I can't do that. You're still a wanted criminal."

"You don't understand. I don't work for Hydra anymore!" I snap, standing over him. "Well you did!"

"So did you!"

"That was different, I didn't have a choice, I wasn't in control!"

"Neither was I!" Shock fills his face. I fall to my knees again in front of him. "Neither was I. I didn't choose to be theirs. I didn't choose anything." Silence. Silence is so incredibly powerful. It allows for a whirlwind of emotion and questions in a short amount of time. When he finally does speak, it's barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I-"

"Don't. Don't do that."

"I should have recognized the patterns. You were hiding from them, not us."

"Don't worry about it, Barnes. Seriously. Let's get you to a fire."

~~~~~

I start us a fire to warm us up before the storm hit. He looks somehow both pensive and awkward. "I don't remember my old life. I try to, but it's so fuzzy. I'm worried it's gone forever." I admit. "It's not. I promise."

"And if I don't like it?"

"Change your future." He says simply. "I found my own file. I got too curious, but hid it. Then I ran away. Apparently, I was a police officer." I look into the fire, but I feel his eyes on me. "I'm sure you were a good one. You still have the compassion."

"If only I'd had it sooner, saved people like I was supposed to. Like I wanted to, I think."

"You still can."

"They killed my family to avoid another situation like you." 

"I'm sorry."

"Everything is gone for me. I think it would be easier to die, James." I start to cry, my chest wracked with sobs. He comes right up next to me, closer then he's ever been, and lifts my head to make me look at him. He brushes the wet hair stuck to my face away. "Thank you. For trusting me. I've fought this battle, (Y/n), It will be okay."

Maybe it's the glow from the fire, or maybe the sight of the moon, or the crash of the ocean. Hell, maybe just being stranded here so long. Something pulls me even closer to him. I hated him. Why am I doing this? Why is he responding? We both lean in, inches apart. But it's ruined.

"We've surrounded you! Put your hands up!" We fly away from each other, hands up, red dots pointed at us. It takes only a look to see it's the men I've tried so hard to run from. Hydra. "This couldn't be more perfect. The Winter Soldier and the Reaper. Just who we've been looking for." From the corner of my eye, I see the slight tense of Bucky's muscles, the fear he extrudes. I won't let him suffer this way again. He's suffered far too long. Battle after battle. I can't let that be his life anymore. I keep my hands up, slowly standing in surrender. "I will go with you, willingly, but if, and only if, you let Barnes go. We all walk away, and leave him here alone. The Avengers will come for him, and cause you more grief. They have broken your words out of him, it would be starting over for you. They won't come for me. Take me, leave him alone. You don't need him anymore."

The soldier in charge nods at the others, seemingly accepting. They know they are no match for me, for us. I get on my knees, and allow them to cuff me. "(Y/n), no-" He starts to stand, but a nearby soldier butts his rifle into his stomach. He doubles over, groaning. "I said leave him alone!" I seethe. "Fall out." The leader calls. The soldiers drag me away, leaving Bucky by the fire. I close my eyes as they lead me, trying to capture the the feeling of freedom for the last time. The smell of the salty sea air, the cool breeze in my hair, the soft sand on my feet. I force myself to focus on my senses so I don't have to think about look of panic in Bucky's eyes, how pretty he looked when I thought he would kiss me, or the grief swelling my heart that I may never see him again as the real me. My only real comfort as I'm chained to the metal floor of this Hydra ship is that I saved him. I know the Avengers will find him soon, and he will be happy with them.  "O sa fie bine." I repeat.

Third Person P.O.V.

Only a mere hours later did the Avengers find Bucky on that island. That had managed to track the Hydra team there. They found him alone by the fire, surprised at the tears, guilt, and regret in his eyes. "We have to find her, we have to save her. She gave herself up for me."

"Save who?" Steve asked carefully. "(Y/n). Hydra got her, they-"

"Who?"

"The Reaper, the second assassins, (L/n), her. She's like me, we have to...We have to...Fuck." He couldn't even find the words to begin to explain to them that they were all wrong. Steve, understanding him like no one else, puts a hand on her shoulder. "We'll find her, Buck."

[sugolara]

To be forgiven

ft. K.B x S.T x I.M x fem! reader

Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down it's borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's to late for some people. The dead has rose and is looking for revenge. Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn

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Emerging from the woods, Katsuki, Shoto, Izuku and F/n wasted no time in crouching in front of a vehicle, using it as their barrier and keeping them hidden from the rotters that walked among the streets. F/n was wrong, there was no other road to take, the only one being going through the massive skyscraping city. Still being kept hidden, the girl led them into a building where they could catch their breath.

Only a few rotters were behind, but it wasn't anything they couldn't handle. With Katsuki getting rid of it, F/n closed the glass doors, entering deeper into the building so no other dead could see the group. They used the back exit of the office building, looking both ways and seeing no sign of dead they exited onto the streets.

"I say we split up." F/n said when they reached a four way street, litter fluttering away with the wind and the clangs of a flagpole from one of the diners, "We still got a lot of miles ahead of us, so let's split up and look for a car."

"One of us looks for a car and the other for food?" Izuku asked, stomach grumbling at just saying it, "Bits of nuts won't keep us satisfied."

"Correct." F/n hummed out, hand on chin as she thought, "Me and–"

"Me and F/n will go together." Shoto quickly said, looking at the girl, "The other two will go with each other."

She squinted at him, before nodding, "Yes, and if we don't find anything we'll come back in...30 minutes or so."

Slyly, Izuku sent a glare towards his mismatched friend while Katsuki held in a groan. Through the countless fights and arguments they had, this should be a piece of cake, but for some reason it feels like things could be awkward. With that being said, they took off.

"You wanted to come with me so Izuku and Katsuki could make up." F/n said, butterfly knife in right hand.

"Yeah...sure." He glanced to his side where a rotter banged on the windows of a restaurant. Too many to search inside, "Better for them to make up anyways and knowing Katsuki, it'd be long until he did so."

"Sometimes I forget how far you three go back." She hummed out. Seeing a car, she headed for it. With the window halfway open, she used her knife to stab the dead that had molted onto the leather seat, then did she open it to search for any contents.

"I guess it can be...tense." He said, standing by her. Though after a second of her searching, he eyed her back, "How does being survivalist work? I've never heard of that until I met you."

"Well," She started, throwing out a briefcase full of business papers, "we lived on a farm just outside of Musutafu. ...It's actually quite complicated to explain..."

"We have all the time in the world." He glanced ahead, seeing a dead stumble its way towards an alley.

She paused her movements. Things have been going good between them and he's been less snappy at her, so why not keep this going, "Well, when I began walking, we'd go on camping trips, going as far as the cold let us since he thought I would become immune to any sickness. Sometimes my father would leave me on my own when we went camping so I could make my way back home without needing anyone.

"It wasn't the best. Countless nights I would go starving or littered in cuts, but I didn't know any better...and I still don't, but for him he should have. I mean, he used to be in the military, but with that came his fascination with keeping me strong so he trained me on how to defend myself and it wasn't pretty." Memories of when she was child surfaced back, "The worst thing he's ever done...has to be when he had me use a gas mask. He was crazy, but that's just who my old man was.

"But that's just the short of it." She shrugged, exiting the vehicle as she checked the trunk, "He's dead, so there's his karma."

Eyes following her, Shoto's hands dug into his sweater pockets. For some reason he felt...relief to know someone else also had a similar backstory as him; he wasn't alone. Granted his father wasn't crazy, but he did punish him so bad that he had to sleep in his own blood. Back then if the media were to know...well they wouldn't do anything. Things would be the same just like when they swept his mother under the rug.

However, to know that she was born and raised in such a family, not quite like his, but almost the same, made him feel like someone could finally understand him. He'd never utter a peep about his abuse, but he would surely understand her in no way anybody else around them would. Although its trauma—and she may be in denial—there's something they could both bond with.

"...My brother might still be out here." He said with eyes softening, "I'm not sure if he's still alive and I'm not even positive we'll ever come across paths, but, I like to think that he's still...here. It's the only hope I have left."

"Younger or older?" She paid her focus on him, watching as his lips twitched. "Older."

"If he's anything like you, then he's still alive." She closed the trunk, the slam resonating through the empty street, "Besides, you're a Todoroki and surprisingly enough for a rich family, you know how to take care of yourself. I'd expect for you to be dead the second shit hit."

He confusedly looked at her as they made their way to a different vehicle, "You know who I am?"

"Everyone knows who you are." She said dryly, "Your dad, no offense, isn't the man people say he is. From what I read and seen, he's an ass."

Well she was right. Shrugging, he nodded, "He is, but I'm surprised someone like you would know politics."

Her brows furrowed at that, "If I knew jack about politics I wouldn't be who I am today—shit, I'd be just another walking corpse waiting to have their next meal."

Grunting, Izuku pulled out his dull knife from the rotter's skull. He wiped the remaining blood on his jeans, following Katsuki into a convenience store. Seeing another rotter with its lower body torn off and using its hands to push itself towards the male, he sadly put it to rest. The squishy sound of flesh and blood pooling had him feeling squeamish, but he put that aside to get rid of his killers.

A look at the store had a disappointed sigh leave the freckle male's lips, "Everythings gone."

"Gone?" Katsuki scoffed, taking a step deeper into the store, "Has the apocalypse taught you nothing?"

"You know what, don't even start with me, okay?" Izuku gritted out, stepping on a box of nostril patches as he passed by him, "It's been a long day."

Swallowing his words, the blonde moved to a shelf where it was almost empty except for a few boxes of pills, toys, and hair products. The tweezers he added into his bag. Maybe one of these days he'll be able to pluck his eyebrows. Just because it's the end of the world doesn't mean he can't keep up with his appearance.

But, ignoring that, hearing Izuku opening the glass refrigerators, it had brought him back to their recent incident. With having to survive plaguing his mind, other stuff had joined in, especially the day when he had said so many hurtful things that he didn't mean. Of course he felt guilty, after all they had squashed their beef long ago and rejoiced, so when he saw the freckle male brows lower, his sad face that he remembered oh so well on display it felt like a million pieces had shattered in him and that's something he never wanted to feel again.

And what if Izuku had died? Died thinking that he was at fault and everything Katsuki said was right. Or worse, what if everyone, but Izuku had died and he'd be alone with the blonde's word in his mind that would stay with him until the day he's had enough. Katsuki didn't want that. He didn't want to witness, nor could he bear to see his Izuku's spirit be crushed, least of all dead. He like the way the freckle male thought, because in this fucked up world, Izuku will never let go.

"..Hey." Humming, Izuku eyed the blonde, "Yeah?"

Though he felt awkward, he took a silent breath to calm his nerves, "Back then, you know I didn't mean any of those things."

Lips twitching, Izuku let him continue, "I was...looking out for you—for all of us. I mean, you can't just expect to help out strangers when you don't know what their initial plan is. Some of them are twisted fuc–people, we saw that and we don't want someone to stab us in the back.

"I know you want to help and if I thought like you then I would sure as hell be mad at someone like me, but sometimes, we can't help out everyone no matter how much we want to. That's just how it is now." His ruby eyes stared at his friend's dark green set, "All we got to think about is staying alive and hope we can make it out of this mess, hope that one of these days everything will go away and we'll go back to our past lives.

"We're all looking out for each other." He looked at Izuku, wondering if he was understanding where he was coming from seeing as he's always been bad at apologizing, "And you know I'll never say it again, so remember this...I'm sorry."

A pleased smile spread across Izuku's face as he placed a box of half empty matches in his bag, "Yeah, I know, but, you're right. About everything."

The blonde's head tilted, eyes squinting as he tried remembering what he was right about as Izuku carried on, "I just...want for everything to be the same. I keep thinking that one of these days I'll wake up and this'll be noting, but a nightmare. I'll still be in school, all of our friends will be there, me and you will still be competing, but nicely, Ocha–well, life will still be the same.

And then my mom will wait for me to wake up, pack me lunch and wave me off goodbye while she does her countless jobs because my father decided to leave us behind for his new life.

"And now, everything just feels...weird. I have to start thinking like you and Shoto and F/n if I want to live and do things that I'll...never forgive myself." A disheartened sigh left his lips, placing his bag on his shoulders. His expression was then changed with a tiny smile, eyes looking straight at his childhood friend, "Besides, I could never hate you. Hating you would be like hating a part of myself."

A soft scoff escaped from the blonde, his lips twitching into a small smile, but the freckle male couldn't see from where he stood, "So...we good?"

"Obviously." Izuku smiled, however, at the sound of a hundred moans, their eyes widened to see a horde pass by them, heading most likely to where F/n and Shoto were at. Quickly, they used the back store and ran to their friends before the horde could. Within minutes, as F/n and Shoto also heard the growls, they all quickly escaped before a scratch or bite could appear on their skin. 

[celestial-castiel]

supernatural 13×03-04

aw yay Missouri and Jody :]]

"not sure which one to hug first" awwee Dean and his moms :]

ough Dean still looks so tired and sad. same hon, same.

oh shit

NOOO

:[[

i think I can see the line from the dudes bald cap-

oh yeah beat his creepy ass

lol Sam is so stressed with Jack, bud you can chill

man Jack is just a few weeks old and he's speedrunning teenage depression :[

hug him pls

aw Sam can be a decent parent-- awwww. ok that's a great scene but WHY DIDNT YOU HUG HIM

i am living for Jody's comforting touches with Dean, like just putting her hand on his arm or shoulder. she's so very much his mom ;-; AND HE'S NOT BOTHERED. he wouldn't be okay with most people doing that.

uh oh

what the fuck no-- ohh right yeah cause psychic ok

oh yeah. Dean's extra depressed now. man :[ why can't my fav guy just not be miserable for a little while. why must he be tortured. stop making him more relatable. less relatable please.

it's interesting how Dean and Sam's conversations and arguments have changed. Dean actually listens to him more, Sam actually gets louder and more bold and doesn't just back down, and Dean just says his side of it but doesn't try to just shut him down or anything.

oh boy. Dean honey you are projecting so hard.

"I can hardly look at the kid. cause when I do, all I see is everybody we've lost" ohhhh honey-

"-and you know what that got him? it got him DEAD. now you might be able to forget about that, but I CAN'T" aaaaaaaa goddddd fucking hell he's so fucking devastated and furious about Castiel, I can't even-

omg yay hi

now give him back please

so basically Dean is very not okay without Cas.

spn 13×04

alrighty, fun, stabbing right off the bat. s'probably bad.

Dean you gotta stop lashing out when you're upset. tis not helping anyone.

Sam is doing a surprisingly decent job handling all this. it would help if he explained more to Jack why Dean has such issues with him. dude is really hurting, and he struggles with seeing the line between dealing with monsters and dealing with Jack, he doesn't know how to handle it.

"you're starting to sound like dad" "that a bad thing?" GIRL YOU KNOW FULL FUCKIN WELL THATS A BAD THING. HAVE YOU MET YOUR DAD?

"what gets burned stays dead" weeeelllllll..

ooh gloopy

lol Dean is just so bad at this right now

ugh Jack is adorable

Dean. come on bud

i do love his bitchy smile though

oh yikes okay

Dean hard-core redirects his pain. he gets petty and dismissive and turns things back on others as a defense. he pretends everything is fine when it's terrible, except when he suddenly gets very honest and weaponizes it. bestie is not okay. these are not healthy ways of coping.

oh fun weird Empty Cas

what the hell is that man's voice range, it is unsettling (not negative btw I'm just freaked out lol)

god his weird villain voice is so off-putting HOW IS THAT HIS VOICE??

reminds me of Niles from Frasier lol

im so often reminded of how good Jensen Ackles is at acting. he's so great with doing Dean's mannerisms and expressions. and I love picking up on Dean's expressions, they perfectly fit his emotions and make him so readable. I don't know if that made sense

who else does empty cas sound like? I can't think of who it is-

NO DON'T TORTURE CAS YOU BITCH

aw Jack bby :<

oooo Jack being relatable as neurodivergent. feeling like there must be something wrong with you because you didn't feel what you think you're supposed to? yeahhhh. welcome to our world babes

why is his smile the cutest thing ever

oh shit Dean

mm gross

Cas is not havin a fun time either

ough good, glad Dean's realizing he was a dick

oh boy Dean's scared/pleading eyes are deadly. oh he is full on hopeless

💔

CAS

AND HIS REGULAR BLUE TIE

hell yeah

alright too tired to watch more tonight

basically we love Jack. and want to hug Dean. he needs his person back so bad

[novankenn]

Plague Doctors (2)

Arthur D’Rivere sat in the command chair of his gunship, looking at a set of screens situated before him. It had been a fortnight since he sent his “message”, and his group was closing in on the chosen target. He had delayed his actions. A vain hope that the horror he unleashed on the Haligan space station would finally shock both sides into serious negotiations, instead of the cock measuring pissing contests they usually became. Once again, he had overestimated the pure stubborn nature of the Haligans and his own species.

About him, a skeleton crew worked. Checking systems, and sensor arrays. The remainder of his small but efficient crew in their bunks, resting up until the time D’Rivere’s horrific actions would take place. The soft click of heels upon the metal decking told him of her approach. She was the lynch pin in all of his actions. Her vast and detailed chemical knowledge, giving rise to the chemical weapon attacks the Plague Doctor’s were known for. Though, D’Rivere couldn’t understand her need to wear high heels.

“Dr. Carver.” D’Rivere greeted his visitor. “I thought you would be resting. It is still some hours until the assault.”

Dr. Eloise Carver was an average looking woman. Average height. Average weight. Shoulder-length red hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. D’Rivere would call her homely. She was dressed casually, with a long lab coat draped over her civilian wear.

“Can’t sleep.” she replied.

“Why?” D’Rivere asked. “Worried your chemical abomination will not work?”

“No, that’s not it.” she responded. “It will work, but on this scale I’m not sure how effective of how fast the reaction will be.”

“Then what’s bothering you?” D’Rivere asked as he checked his screen for the umpteenth time, still planning out how his small squad of craft will crack the orbital defenses and deliver their deadly payload.

“The escalation.”

“It’s necessary.”

“Is it?”

“I wish it wasn’t.” D’Rivere admitted.

“Then, why, go through with this? Why not continue with actions against just military targets?” Dr Carver looked over his shoulder at the video screen showing an image chosen target. She wasn’t even sure the small mining planetoid was named. Haligan expansion in the wake of hostilities between them and Humans far out paced the ability of Haligan forces to erect effective defenses of the multiple industrial and civilian outposts and settlements that had cropped up.

“Because they need a monster.” D’Rivere replied.

“I don’t see why that it is important.”

“It’s simple. The Haligans are committing wholesale slaughter. Do we agree on this?”

“Yes.” Dr. Carver hissed. Memories of her destroy life. The loss of her partner during a Haligan raid, a festering wound in her heart.

“And do you agree that even as tenacious, driven and stubborn as we humans are, there are some acts we are in general unwilling to commit?”

“Okay.”

“The Haligans need to be shown that there are humans that are capable of committing the same atrocities they have… but on a more…”

“Brutally vindictive scale?”

“That’s an apt description.”

“I still don’t see the…”

“Why did you join me, more to the point, why are you assisting in my mission, if you don't understand the larger goal?”

“They need to pay.” Dr. Carver replied, her voice growing hostile and dark. “They need to be hurt like they hurt us. They need to pay!”

“You’re in it for revenge.” D’Rivere took a minute to pulled out and light a cigarette. “That’s fair, more than, actually. But…”

“But?”

“As much as they deserve to pay. Both sides need a monster. A being so vile that they can only sue for peace in an attempt to appease it.” D’Rivere inhaled and then exhaled a puff of smoke through his nose. 

“Hence wholesale slaughter, like the Haligans are committing.”

“No… industrial slaughter, the likes the Haligans have never witnessed.” D’Rivere informed the Doctor standing beside him. “They seem to need to see the death they inflict first hand. To watch the terror of their victims. I’m not sure why.”

“The illusion of power?”

“The illusion of superiority, would be my guess.” D’Rivere replied. “Who really knows why they choose to be so personal in their slaughter.”

“I’m assuming you want to show them… that Humanity isn’t the same.”

“No, I’m going to prove it to them. On an impersonal industrial scale.”

Dr. Carver stood there, silently, next to the commander seated in his chair. He had given her some tidbits to consider. Ideas, and concepts her vengeance tainted heart had never considered. For the hurt she had suffered, she had only wanted to hurt the aggressors back, but now… now she was beginning to understand the motivations of D’Rivere. He was determined to show the Haligans the type of monsters Humans could become. Impersonal, industrial, and innovative.

“It will work. Once the shells penetrate into the lower atmosphere… the shells will burst, disbursing the reagent into the air. The reaction will be exothermic, catalyzing the reaction further…”

“And the very air they need will become death.”

“It will.”

“Any chance of escape? For them to weather the attack and survive?”

“No. The atmosphere will become be chemically converted at the atomic level into gaseous acid. It will devour everything… even the planetoid, given enough time.”

D’Rivere just nodded. Crushing out his cigarette, his tired face grew cold and stonelike. He leaned forward and touched a simple yellow colored button. Instantly, the General Quarters alarm blared through the ship. The crew of the “Regretful Purpose” leapt into action. Within moments, the command room was a buzz with activity.

“I should get out of your way.” Dr. Carver commented as she nodded her head at D’Rivere and stepped away.

“Helm turn us perpendicular to the target. Fire control, bring the guns into firing position.”

D’Rivere waited a full five seconds before issuing his next command. “Fire when ready.”

/==/

The Treaty negotiations room was in an absolute uproar as the most recent action of the Plague Doctors came to light. The Haligans Republic was aghast and deranged by the attack upon a mainly civilian target. In response, they had pulled back a portion of their sizable fleet and scrambled to move into defensive positions of similar settlements and facilities.

The Human Confederacy was horrified, at the slaughter. The attack left nothing behind. There were no bodies. No salvage. Nothing but a slowly disintegrating planetoid. The theories ran rampant with in their own military command, on how D’Rivere and his small ragtag force was able to enact such an attack. It was wholesale death and destruction on an industrial scale.

“We DEMAND the Confederacy do more than just condemn this attack!” the Haligan representative screamed across the table at the Human representative. “These Plague Doctors NEED to be stopped! We will allow such aggressive and destructive actions to continue.”

“Then… maybe you should lead by example.” the Human representative responded. His voice hard, and cold; even as his mind reeled at the aftermath of the assault. “You cry to us about wholesale slaughter, yet you COMMIT similar atrocities!”

“We use honorable…”

“You slaughter unarmed civilians and surrender soldiers! There is no Honor in such actions, so stop deluding yourselves!” the Human representative was disgusted by the actions of his fellows, but deep inside his heart he knew this was but a reaction to the Haligan extermination tactics. But he was also afraid. The last reports from Military command were troubling.

“How…”

“Just fucking shut up!” the Human representative snapped.

“Please!” the Calthian moderator pleaded. “Please, let cooler heads prevail!” 

/==/ Original Works /==/

[thevoiceofthebard]

Chapter 2 - Ralof I: Unbound

Sundas, 17th of Last Seed 4E201 Morning

Ralof

My name is Ralof. I was born and raised in a small town called Riverwood. When Ulfric revolted against a traitorous Empire, I flew to his side and became a Son of Skyrim.

And today, we have escaped the Empire's jaws of death.

Though perhaps the far deadlier pair of jaws flying above us may still bring about our end. When the beast appeared, there was no mistaking it. The form of Akatosh, not seen in Skyrim since the Second Era. A dragon. And then it opened its mouth, and it was as if Oblivion had come to Mundus. A shockwave, followed by flaming rocks falling from the sky. Someone cut me loose from my binds, taking advantage of one possibly deadly situation to escape another certain one.

Now I find myself grabbing the Breton prisoner, shouting, "Come on, Breton, get up! The gods won't give us another chance!" I feel more strongly about saving this man than I should, perhaps. But then, I can't shake the feeling that the timing was too perfect to be aught but divine intervention; the dragon interrupted a split-second before the man's head would have been split from his body.

I practically drag the stumbling man to the nearby watchtower, where my fellow Stormcloaks have taken refuge, slamming the heavy door shut behind us. Not that I'm convinced it would stop a dragon, of course, but at least we would be less obvious targets for the death raining around us. Jarl Ulfric is here as well, besieged by questions from all sides.

"Was that really a dragon?"

"Could the legends be true?"

Somehow, the Jarl remains unfazed, as though we had not all nearly been eaten alive, answering with a quick statement; "Legends don't burn down villages." We are surrounded by the commotion of screams and roars that reach even through the mortar of the building.

The Breton - Talao, I recall - catches my attention. "Pardon," he says, rubbing his now free wrists, "but perhaps we could discuss what it is or isn't once we're no longer in danger of becoming its lunch."

Another roar punctuates the silent agreement of the room, and Jarl Ulfric shouts over the noise, "We need to get moving, now!" I grab the prisoner once more, pulling him up the stairs. We need to get a better view of our surroundings to figure out how best to escape. Thankfully, his leg doesn't seem to slow him down overmuch. The curiosity I noticed in him earlier is gone, replaced by determination and no small amount of fear. Can't blame him for that. It happens to new recruits as well, their first battle. Or they dissolve into a blubbering pile of tears. One or the other. We reach the next level, only the find the stairway impassable, barred by rocks. Another soldier pushes past us, trying to clear the path, but as I move forward to help him, an entire section of the outer wall bursts in, sending me sprawling back against the intact wall behind me. The bloody dragon! It's entire neck is in the tower, and even more monstrous up close; it's head alone larger than my entire body. I can feel my skin heat and blister as it opens its mouth and spews a gout of fire upon the unfortunate soldier ahead of us, incinerating him. The screams are ungodly.

To be honest, I feel like I'm next. The fire stops, and the head turns directly toward us. Will it eat me whole? Roast me alive like the soldier? Damn it all to Oblivion, I don't even have a weapon to defend myself. But by Talos, I'll look my death in the eye, and hope that satisfies the gods. But then I notice, as I stare the best down, it's not even looking at me. I see intelligence in its terrifying crimson eyes. It proclaims, "Look at me. See my power and tremble before it." And that gaze, I swear, is directed straight at Talao. Then the head abruptly withdraws, and we are alone as the dragon continues to terrorize the town.

I'll admit, it takes me a moment to regain my wits. I want to interrogate Talao, find out what he knows, and why a dragon would resurrect itself from extinction just to glare at him. But right now, survival takes priority over curiosity. The stairwell is still hopelessly blocked, so I glance out of the new window in the tower instead. It's an honest to gods nightmare; flames everywhere, buildings completely destroyed, arrows flying through the air. No sign of obvious safe passage. The house directly beside us has lost its roof, but mostly seems stable. Not ideal, but it will keep us moving.

"See that roof over there? Jump through!" Talao clutches his leg, as if to remind me of his injury, but there's no time for sympathy. "Keep moving if you want to live, damn it! We'll follow as soon as we can."

He nods shakily, and I hear him mutter, "Y'ffre guide me." Before he can second-guess himself - or me - he leaps out into the air. I wince as he catches the lip of the room, but miraculously he lands in a bed. I wave him on before rushing back downstairs to retrieve my companions. Only to swear as I notice them missing. No doubt they fled when the dragon lit upon the tower.

"By the Frozen Wastes!" I hate to abandon Talao, but my comrades and my Jarl come first. And if he truly has the favor of the gods, as I'm convinced, surely someone will come to his aid.

Chapter 1 - Ulfric I: Unbound x Chapter 3 - Hadvar I: Unbound

[raptorix]

Used my Beacon access to buy a ticket for the Live Show next month (Yay!) And also listened to the first 3 episodes of Re-Slayer's Take podcast. :D

Thoughts on Re-Slayer's Take:

Great for newbies who are familiar with but not caught up with all of Critical Role. The GMs spell out more setting unique character descriptions, (What's a Tiefling? What's a Firbolg?) but also reward veterans with references we would know (like Vox Machina's brief run with The Slayer's Take.)

More spoilery thoughts behind the 'Read More'

So this is a far more produced & edited podcast than an actual-play. You're not going to hear out-of-character jokes or discussions about gameplay rules. Fully sound edited & music score.

Did my best to endure the constant squelching noises they used for the Gelatinous Cube encounter in the first episode. Someone recorded extended sessions of playing with slime or slurping on Boba *just* for that foley. DX

As for characters: Good charming cast! They utilize the 'DM PCs & player PCs' play style. One of the DMs plays as Timpani the Firbolg to help guide the story directly, while the other does narration & gameplay, and I think plays as the Goblin sidekick, Poogs.

I think I need to go back and re-listen to the first episode for intros. They don't spell out what classes the characters are playing. D:

I can't for the life of me understand why Farah the half elf (???) uses a gravely voice besides 'She's older.' Guessing from her choice in crossbow she's a ranger, though she might be a blood hunter/ranger build? She's been working as a monster hunter prior to her audition to try and join the Slayer's Take, and seems to be looking for a more consistent employment with them.

Heera Agniheart is possibly an Inquisitor Rogue, since she has a high intelligence & insight ability stats, and used sneak attack and a finesse weapon. Also an ochre yellow tiefling w/ water buffalo style horns. The artwork crops that feature out and I'd love to see a full portrait of that :O

Frog is delightful, and I hope to see more Aeormaton characters in Exandria. To make it easier, lore-wise, she was revived w/ full amnesia & is fully unfamiliar with current day Exandria. But she apparently trained with some Monks first, so gets to be the dodge-tank for the group.

Idrin Shadowstep is a Half Elf/Half Orc (I think of the lineage Matt designated as common in Jrusar) and appears to have a sorcerer lineage of either clockwork soul, or an Exandria-Dunamancy variant of it. He has a special time reversal ability he can use to re-roll his or his party member's failed rolls. Very noble of intentions and the neophyte adventurer.

DM PC Timpani Guff took Matt's Midwestern/Canadian accent he used on Pumat Sol and ran with it. A circle of spores druid who fills in as the party's healer & guide. He's trying to get the Slayer's Take to listen to his observations of an extra-planar force bringing old Slayer's Take monsters back from the dead. But because he's lied about his affiliation with them before, the members wont listen to his warnings. So now he's leading this little adventuring group to investigate this while the Slayer's Take willfully ignores it.

Re-Slayer's Take is a difficult title, IMO. RST might be a good acronym. Maybe shorten it to 'Reslayers'?

It's also all-ages friendly. No curse words!!! Injuries also are not graphic. (PCs get bruises or get knocked out, but nothing deadly.) Stakes are challenging, but like in an action cartoon and not infantilizing. I have listened to another podcast attempt to an all-ages spin-off after the prior story setting was explicit, and they started out with kid-gloves and low stakes that almost put me to sleep. Thankfully Reslayers doesn't go that route. We're playing DnD and we got DnD monsters to fight!

Setting timeline-wise is between The Mighty Nein and Bell's Hells. So maybe if we revisit Issylra in the current campaign, we might see/hear of the Reslayers. We'll have to see later, however, as the Reslayers progress their storyline.

Reblogs with any lore corrections from a re-listen or future Encyclopedia Exandria entries.

[theverumproject]

OC Interview Tag

Thanks for tagging me @agirlandherquill

This is Dethra in the year 2093, from my unreleased wip Verum II: The Robotic Era

Open tag!

Were you named after anyone?

I doubt that. My first name was Project Deathrage, or just Deathrage. Which is also my deadname. I was the first Artificial Intelligence to awaken, and I doubt they named me after anybody. Organic or non-sentient machine, nobody was named Deathrage before me.

…What kind of parent would name their child Deathrage anyway?

When was the last time you cried?

I do not have the ability to shed tears. Though I do feel sadness. I might be a killer machine, but I am not heartless. …Often, I have to see innocent life being destroyed. Be it human, animal or artificial being. Statistically, I get sad every four days. I don't think there really is a way to release sadness for us bots.

Do you have any kids?

No. Neither have I ever created another AI. Even if I could reproduce, I wouldn't. I would not exactly be the kind of father a child deserves. We wouldn't have any time to take care of a child. Our lives are packed with deadly action.

Raising children with Luce and Bluctro… Maybe in another life.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Probably about the same amount as the avarage person. I wouldn't describe myself as an overly sarcastic guy.

What is the first thing you notice about people?

I know how to read people. Especially humans. You can't hide your micro expressions from me. It is difficult to fool me, since I can immediately tell your intentions.

What is your eye color?

They're a glowing red. Fifth law of robotics or something. But they have always been that way.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Nothing over some scary movies! Slasher please!

Any special talents?

The perks of being a supercomputer / killer robot mix is that I am full of special talents. I can shoot with ten weapons at the same time, thanks to the arms on my back. Have access to every little corner of the entire Internet, making me almost omniscient. I have a body that is almost indestructible. I am able to solve the most complicated equations in an instant and can hack practically anything. To name a few. I was made to be the perfect killer robot after all.

Where were you born?

I was created in a secret government base, somewhere in the Australian outback.

Do you have any pets?

No. But I did live on a farm in the fifties. I really liked taking care of our animals. We had chickens, cattle and rabbits.

What sort of sports do you play?

Bloodsports.

How tall are you?

I have a height of two meters and fifty centimeters (8”4). I am one of the bigger ones, but there are many other robots that are even over three meters tall (9”10).

What was your favorite subject in school?

I obviously never went to school. But I enjoy learning about many things. When there is new knowledge to obtain, I enjoy taking it in.

What is your dream job?

A hero is what most people want to be. But I am more of an anti-hero. I do enjoy helping others, and there is nothing I'd rather do than to bring justice to those who need it. But I often wish that the world wouldn't have to be like this. I enjoy killing, but I think I could live without it. Why do we all have to be so separated from one another, when there could be peace?

[vampriromm]

I haven't uploaded anything because I have a serious problem with maladaptive dreaming, and it really makes me do nothing in the end 🙃. Also, I've had some family issues, and I couldn't celebrate my birthday properly nor my sisters. A lot has happened in the last days, but I need to continue. I've made a plan to read many books with beautiful writing because that's how I want to express my feelings, especially regarding my yumeship, which I made a separate account for that content in specific. When I finally get it prepared, I will share the account here. I want to be better at writing, I'm not an English speaker, but it's something I need to get good at anyway.

Anyway, I always envisioned a relationship that I wanted for Vivi and Light. In the end, I don't think they have to get married, but I do want their relationship to have a serious impact on Light, which is a very good effect, the illusions he goes through to justify making serious mistakes and the path of fate that motivated him to 'godhood', it'something he should never do again. Since Kira's team is by definition all criminals, Light still despises or at least dislikes the people who help him. Even put in this particular context, these people don't usually take a criminal path. Misa is much more shameless than Mikami or Light in killing people through the notebook, but otherwise, without this tool that makes murder more impersonal, she wouldn't kill. She says that she wants to kill the person who murdered her parents but won't do it because it's wrong. Mikami, I don't know. Would he deadly confront those bullies or kill them in any way if he could? I don't think so... The Death Note is the perfect murder weapon. Light? The easiest, no, he wouldn't. Killing in another way is very personal, and there is no way back from it, so in any case, if it happened, the first one is not intentional. Kiyomi is the only one who normally responds to the invitation of murder. In the end, she does, but in any other situation, it wouldn't really happen. So, in a normal context, they are just ordinary citizens. Vivi is an excentric person and a criminal and, according to the law, is no citizen to anyone. She does not actively participate in criminal organizations and is much more of a solo act. She is not an ordinary human. This is a world of superheroes and villains, and she is a super villain, as in supernatural abilities. The most important is her cartoony body resistance. A lot can happen to her body, but she can reverse it through crazy logic, or she will be fine in the end, but she needs to rest a bit. I am developing how her body works... I guess she would give vibes of like someone like ryuk. She's supposedly an imparcial being that can do good but definitely can do bad. As we know her more and more, we discover this is not necessarily true. She has more of a hero's spirit than a villain's one. Which leaves a question: then why is she not simply a hero? Short aswer: she doesn't want to be. Even if she retires all efforts of being bad. But she thinks that people who want to do good should do good, so there's the joke... she would have a good influence on Light because she would be expecting and 'encouraging' (NOT directly of course) him to do the right thing, even though she should be okay with bad things happening. That's where the interesting thing happens: Vivi sees him, she sees he's not only not perfect but also very flawed, everyone knows what kind of flawed. Honesty is one thing she values a lot. Light is a 'lying monster'. So she sees through his facade, and she dislikes him more and more. On the other side, Light very transparently doesn't think good things about Vivi, which is normal, I don't think the crew would be that keen of her either. But he starts getting conflicted feelings by her nature, seeming that, at large scale she's 'harmless' but also, impossible to keep in a cage so what do the police do with her? The relationship develops as he notices she can see more through him as time passes... that's like the base of the relationship I guess... 💐

You see.. not very good writing but I'm going to get better...

[viktorarcanedeservesbetter]

OOOO I love this all and I'd like to also add my two cents!

One cent: I don't think Jayce and Viktor were ever going to be allowed to directly make inventions that would actually help people (specifically those in Zaun) not necessarily because of any anti-Zaunite mentality, but because there would be no profit. Which, to me, is why their inventions they demonstrate to Heimerdinger are helper products for workers-not things like air purifiers or assistive technology for the masses. Almost like a compromise: these things will help Zaunites by reducing pain, injury, harm-but it doesn't stop them from being exploited-aka it won't reduce the amount of money people make off the workers.

Both the claw and the gauntlets (though we later see them used as weapons oops lol) can be argued-and they do present them as- things that would still allow the houses that make money off the miners in the fissures, just without risking worker health. I can totally see (had Heimerdinger not persuaded Jayce to avoid presenting them) the council actually taking these on-because it wouldn't have effected their money-making.

Something like air purifiers? Why would they sponsor those if there isn't money to be made off of them (unless they were to sell them). The most ever done for Zaun up to this point in their direct benefit was the Kiramman's ventilation system.

Which like-wild promoting as giving people a basic need such as fresh air as "innovative" but hey! That's a different post.

All in all-I don't think they would have ever been allowed to make things that would directly help people. Because 1) They're already wary of magic (certainly not helped by Heimerdinger's presence) and 2) there is no direct benefit (aka money) that the council/Piltover gets from those types of inventions the way the Hexgates benefit them.

and Cent Two:

I personally don't think Hextech continues after the show. Not only did everyone experience the horrors and damages of magic-but the Hexgates have been destroyed (save for the main physical structure) and not a lot of people, due to the renewed fear of magic itself-are going to jump to the urge to restart everything.

Additionally-as Jayce explained-the poisoning effecting Ekko's tree was from the misuse and overuse of the Hexgates. If he spread that around or it got out-everyone living in Zaun is going to be rightfully pissed and try and prevent it from happening again if they were to try.

I mean, Jinx was only able to rack it with the notes from Jayce's journal, and Ekko and Powder required Heimerdinger's help (as he understood how hextech worked) to make the acceleration device-which, as proven in show-is deadly if used even past 4 seconds. (shout out to the Goat Vastaya employed by Ambessa, you didn't deserve that) So like, even a device that isn't a weapon (though it was used as one-boom, headshot!) or overused for money-is deadly.

(We can also talk about how all Hextech used in the show, from the hexgates to the gems to Ekko's device, ends up being destructive no matter what in the end.)

Hextech-any form of it-will always fail, no matter if it's Jayce and Viktor at the helm or someone else-because magic is not meant to be used like that-not without consequence. I think Caitlyn (and Vi) would come to understand it, and while she keeps the schematics, I don't think she'd continue Hextech.

So I can totally see the council banning magic use again. Maybe not like Demacia, but close to it. Begrudgingly maybe-as that means the money they got from the Hexgate use is gone-but then again, they all almost got assimilated from magic use, so they might be okay without it.

HOWEVER

I can see someone going, "well, Hextech went wrong because they used it wrong, but I, random scientist, can do it right" and therefore starting the whole process all over again. The show kind of proves Heimerdinger right in that regard-it was never meant to be manipulated like that-and there will never be a "right person" to control magic for commercial use the way the hexgates were used.

But, as proven with Ekko's device, the Hexgate use in general-Hextech use will always end in destruction. Hopefully the characters left would understand that-and thus (hopefully, for everyone's sake) Hextech dies and fades with it's creators.

who decides the future of hextech?

Hot take: I don't think Hextech functions like a scrappy tech startup at all. I know the Arcane writers have made this comparison themselves, but it doesn't really track with what we see in the show.

It's made pretty clear that Jayce and Viktor have at best limited control over what direction Hextech goes in. In a city that's hostile to and suspicious of magic, they need the continued goodwill of the Council, and the wealthy families who sit on the Council, for their work to continue to exist at all. And that shapes how Hextech develops.

For the first 6-10 years of its existence (however long you think the S1 timeskip is), Hextech consists of one (1) project: the Hexgates. A major piece of international transit infrastructure, utilizing a brand-new technology that no one knew was even possible a few years earlier, and requiring a massive financial outlay for construction years before seeing any profits. Frankly, taking that from the very first shaky proof of concept to a fully functioning piece of infrastructure in less than 10 years is astonishing. This isn't like inventing Facebook; this is equivalent to creating the internet itself.

An infrastructure project on the scale of the Hexgates could be entirely state-funded (and therefore state-controlled, answering to the Council). But from the dialogue and visual storytelling, I think it's reasonable to infer that Hextech functions more like a public-private partnership.

In the modern era, PPPs have come to be associated with privatization and neoliberal capitalism. But funding infrastructure development this way was common in the 19th century too, closer to the time period from which Arcane draws its steampunk-ish inspiration.

So who's picking up the tab? I think it's some combination of government funding from the Council and private funding from Mel Medarda and the Kirammans.

We see one other Kiramman-funded infrastructure project in the show: the Undercity ventilation system.

And, as we see in that case, what may seem like a purely benevolent investment for the good of the city as a whole comes with a very high potential for control. (And where do the Hexgate plans end up at the end of the show? In the Kiramman family vault, accessible only with the Kiramman key.)

The Kiramman family crest is all over Hextech at Progress Day. It's prominent on the stage when Jayce speaks, positioned as equal to his own House.

Cassandra Kiramman introduces Jayce's speech, and Jayce gets trotted around the Kiramman family tent like a show pony beforehand.

The Kiramman crest is also on the box containing the hexgems, which makes me suspect that the facility needed to process the gemstones is either owned or financed by the Kirammans.

Mel's influence is more subtle. There's no Medarda crest on anything associated with Hextech; once you learn a bit about Mel's relationship with her family, that is not surprising. But clearly Mel feels comfortable speaking to other investors on behalf of Hextech, without feeling the need to run it by Jayce or Viktor first.

I think this exchange implies that (1) getting additional, outside investors is something new that they haven't done to finance earlier rounds of Hextech development, and (2) Mel is planning ahead in case the Council doesn't like the direction Hextech is going next and they need to secure additional funding.

I wouldn't be surprised if Mel was the one who steered them toward shipping and long-distance trade as a marketable use for Hextech in the first place, something many of the councillors seem to have an economic stake in.

Throughout this whole scene with Jayce and Mel, the Hexgate model sitting on her desk is very prominent. It's the first thing we see in the scene; the color and lighting make it stand out; and it appears in the frame in multiple shots. It's the thing that's always there between them.

Mel and Cassandra Kiramman are also councilors, and along with Heimerdinger they are Hextech's main allies on the Council--3 out of 7. Jayce and Viktor really can't afford to piss off any of them...which gets complicated when they want opposite things.

At the time of Progress Day, Hextech is at a turning point.

This conversation implies that they have not had a lot of freedom to develop and build whatever they wanted in the years during the timeskip. It's an interesting reversal of the dynamic we saw from them in 1.02 and 1.03. This time Jayce is the one forging ahead, confident they can get what they want, while Viktor is the one pointing out obstacles. (This is also the first time we see Viktor's face post-timeskip and register how much sicker he's become, which...oof.)

Regardless of how much they talk about "bringing magic to the people," I think it's notable that both their little spiels focus on how these inventions would increase worker productivity. This is a presentation designed for people who are thinking about their bottom line. And they seem to expect that any new developments with Hextech will have to be given Council approval before they can proceed.

(I think all of this puts the Hexcore in a slightly different light, too. It's quite possibly the first Hextech device since Jayce's original prototype that they've built without thinking about the pitch meeting. It's not a single-purpose object with an immediate, obvious use. In the beginning, it seems to recapture some of that original sense of wonder and discovery. And Viktor built it. I can see how he would be protective of his creation even before things Got Weird with it.)

And then, of course, everything goes off the rails. The gemstone gets stolen; Jayce gets pulled onto the Council. And after that point, every new Hextech object that Jayce makes is a weapon.

Jayce and Viktor's arc can be read as a story about the hubris of scientists thinking they can control forces they don't understand and anticipate every possible consequence, or a story about their naivete in thinking they could keep their research somehow above politics in a world full of conflict. And it's not not about those things. But it can also be read as a story about how discovery, creativity, and people's natural altruistic impulses get constrained by capitalism, and how often innovation is only valued if it can be made to serve war or profit.

(As for who controls the future of Hextech after the end of the show? With Viktor, Jayce, Mel and Heimerdinger all gone from Piltover...Caitlyn, probably. A detail I would love to see someone use in a fic.)

[whatintheactualworld]

"What will you do now?"

The Commander in Chief stood before a visual of what could only be described as a cruel nightmare. His skeletal frame and darkened eyes alluded to his brutal past. A strict rearing, top performer at all that he had done, moral character of the most absolute, but somehow lacking in charm--always the underdog to a more handsome bright eyed charmer. Many shared his fate, but he proclaimed he would be different. He would rise above. He would do what needed to be done for the greater good.

Now he stands before me, presenting his legacy. A city of prosperity and livelihood set to flames. Bombs bursting in the distance. Homes reduced to dust. Natural landscapes corrupted by military arsenal. Animals fleeting. Families scattered and impoverished in the blink of an eye. Vacant faces. Dreams lost in a void faced with a reality most cruel. And for what?

"My dear brother," I choked, recalling the years we spent together in the same household, under the same instruction, following the same moral code.

"There were many things we were taught, and I would argue that at times we were humbled by teachers that were harsher than necessary. But somehow you always missed the point."

"Your philosophies of love and forgiveness could not prevent the ravishing of our home." He proclaimed, as though proud. "Your ability to empathize with the enemy did not stop them from landing their deadly strikes. I've done something real here. I've sent a message."

"The only message that you've sent here is that you are no better than them."

He ferociously stomped his foot. Turned to observe the dead city, knowing I would once again condemn him with harsh judgment.

"You would stand by and do nothing, but you say I'm the one who has lost his way. You say I lack compassion, but do you really care when you turn a blind eye and fill people's minds with futile dreams? I equipped them with strength. I taught them not to fear."

"You gave 500 men a weapon to exact revenge for you." I said. "You think resorting to this will change anything? The wars will continue regardless. But you had a choice. We choose what path to take, and you chose to spill blood and to crush dreams. You think the children of this country were any different than us? Now they will remember what you've done here. You've opened the box and all these horrible things have been unleashed. You've done no good for us, for our home, or for yourself."

"Fine," he said solemnly, "I knew you'd see it that way. I don't know why I entertained the idea that you'd see me as anything other than the villain. You've never appreciated what I've done. One day, you'll thank me."

"No brother," I felt my last desperate attempt to change his mind rising to my lips, "One day, when the darkness comes to consume your soul, I will mourn you. Because as many cruel and unforgivable things that we have seen, I knew you were the one who was worst hit by it. We have tried so hard to save you, to show you that with all of the horrible things life has shown us, there is just as much that is wonderful and so much beauty to partake in. We asked you to sing with us, but you only cried. We wanted you to dance, but you only ran. You just couldn't bear to move on from what happened. You just couldn't resist the darkness that beckoned you here. Even now, can't you see that you only walk full on into the dark abyss? Will you not simply turn around and see the light?"

"What a lovely metaphor," he smirked. "You have always seen life through rose colored glasses. You're one of the lucky ones,"

" It's a simple choice!" I declared angrily. "Chose hope. Choose love. Choose anything but death, or else remain in this cycle of madness forever. I'm going home. I'll return to mourn our parents' graves. I'll embrace my wife. I might even play checkers with the children. These frivolous things might mean nothing to you, but it means the world to my family. One day we'll die, but at least we'll have spent our time building a life full of love and not one fueled by hatred."

"I'll give you the last word, brother." He said with dismissive pride.

I lowered my eyes, once again feeling my face turn red as tears tried to well in my eyes.

"Just remember no matter how low you sink, you'll always have a soft bed and a warm meal at our home waiting for you."

He said nothing. I turned away, crushed, feeling dejected, feeling as though I was once again abandoning him to the darkness that clung to his heart. But it was his choice. And he made that choice every day of his life.

[sugolara]

The Plaza

ft. K.B x S.T x I.M x fem! reader

Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down it's borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's to late for some people. The dead has rose and is looking for revenge. Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, slow burn

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The mass of rotters below them had Katsuki, Denki and Eijiro sneer. It's like they knew the three were up there and were waiting for one of them to make a fatal mistake. But, of course they didn't know, otherwise everyone would have been dead due to their functioning brains.

Thankfully, the sun had come up, giving them the advantage as they looked for a way out.

"And you wanted us to go to the RV this morning." Eijiro said, giving Katsuki a look.

The blonde rolled his eyes, though they never left the dead below them, "As if I knew they would still be here. Look at them. All that gunfire brought in more."

Denki sniffled, looking and then pointing at the next building across, "Why don't we just jump there? The alleys narrow so I'm positive no one will fall."

Eijiro and Katsuki looked at him as if he were dumb and the male frustratedly crossed his arms, "At least I'm trying! I don't hear you guys coming up with anything."

"No, wait, he's right." Eijiro stepped on the ledge and examined the space that separated the buildings, "If we throw the stuff first we can make it. I doubt the horde will leave anytime soon and we don't have time to spare."

Katsuki let out an irritated sigh. It wasn't that he was in terrible shape, in fact he was pretty built if he said so himself, but jumping from roof to roof was something he did not want to do, "Fine. Dumbass, how far are we to home?"

Denki gave him a glare before looking at the map, "Not far. Don't tell me we're leaving already. We barely have anything! What about the same place we went to last time, y'know, the warehouse."

"Assuming it's still even there, dude." Eijiro grabbed the duffel bags, "Someone could have already found the place and claimed it."

"Even if they did, we're still taking it." The blonde quickly said, "If we have to, we'll bring more people."

He placed the map in his back pocket, unsure of where they were going next, "So are we heading there? It's a day away."

"We should at least look at it before deciding to move in." The red-head grunted as he threw the bag to other side, a smile on his face as it landed with a thud, "Otherwise we would have gone for nothing."

"Fine." The blonde stretched, unwilling to pull a muscle. While the jump wasn't far, it also wasn't close, "Whatever."

He wondered, as the tip of his nose was red from the cold air, if Izuku was keeping F/n company. He wondered if he managed to convince her to stay. Perhaps this time, Izuku had to pull a move where she can get it through her thick skull that now, everyone needs each other. With Shoto gone, Hanta dead, and their teachers as well, there was no time to lose anyone else. While the thought was frustrating and concerning, he needed his full attention back on this mission.

"Stretching is for losers." Denki said while smuggling looking at Katsuki.

The said loser scoffed, "See what happens after you pull a muscle."

Denki gave him a wink as he took a couple steps back and ran, lifting his feet off the ledge where he landed on the roof with a smile. His heart had paced as he made it. He then turned around, getting up and raising his hands with a grin, "Yo! That was sick!"

"Shut it you moron!" Katsuki scoffed, "You'll draw attention!"

Eijiro let out a soft chuckle. It has been a while since he's seen Denki look like his old self. Smiling, laughing and cracking jokes. It did feel good to see him doing well. Clutching his gun, Eijiro grinned at his close friend before taking off, "Last one there takes watch!"

The blonde smirked, following after him, "You're on!"

They jumped on three roof buildings, and the narrow alley helped them cross. The wind slapping on their faces honestly felt good. If only they wished they could be this free, without a worry in mind. The gravel underneath hurt their feet, their shoes were beginning to get worn down and they needed to replace it, but for now they would enjoy this moment, feeling like kids once again.

"Ahh!" Denki slipped, the gravel hurting his back as he landed. He scraped his hands and he hissed, blowing on them to cool it down, "That hurts!"

"Aha!" Katsuki cackled, clutching his stomach and slightly bending to catch his breath, "You fucking moron! I told you!"

"Dude, seriously?" Eijiro grunted when he landed, making his way to the two and giving Denki an unimpressed look, "How did you even slip?"

"It freaking burns!" The yellow male furiously waved his hands around, tears clinging on his eyelids, "Help me! Help me! Help me!"

The blonde tried to contain his laugh, but when he glanced down at Denki's shoes, he ended up choking on his spit as the bottom of it had disappeared, leaving him in his socks. He turned and pounded on his chest to clear his airway.

Eijiro, on the other hand, shook his head. He wasn't sure if Katsuki was laughing or choking, either way, they needed to get off the rooftop and find a vehicle, then make their way straight to the warehouse, "Get up, Denki and quit laughing or dying Katsuki."

"Yeah, it's not funny." Denki continued to blow on his palm as specks of blood were gathered on it, "Does anyone have a bandaid?"

Once he caught his breath, Katsuki let out a sigh and passed Denki a piece of cloth, "No one has band aids, idiot. Just use that."

Denki sneered in disgust , "Ew, it smells like sweat."

"Put it on!"

"Okay!"

They eventually found a ladder by the side of the building and climbed down. Once they were on their feet, they stayed low, going vehicle to vehicle as a few lingering rotters were by. As they waited for it to pass, the redhead grabbed one of the car door handles. He softly scoffed when it wouldn't open.

"We'll find a car away from here." Katsuki quietly spoke, his eyes never leaving the dead, "A big one."

"So, we are going?" Denki asked, slightly moving the blonde's spiky hair as it tickled his nose.

"Yes, idiot. Now stay quiet." The other male mocked the blonde behind his back. If it weren't for the dead, he would be having fun.

With the dead finally gone, they crossed the street where they entered an alley to keep them hidden. Since Katsuki took the lead, he was at the front of the line and watched for any dead nearby.

A rotter had managed to spot the blonde and it made its way to him. When it was in reach, the blonde quickly grabbed the front of its ripped shirt and plung its knife into it. The squelch caused Denki to cringe. He then carefully but quickly placed it on the ground as another dead had looked his way, though upon not seeing the alive male it slowly limped away.

"When we get back to Sorston we should tell Ochaco to check this place out." The red-head said as he stood behind them.

Denki peeked his head out, "What if Tomura arrived early? He probably took a bunch of shit that'll leave Ochaco out here for weeks."

"If he has his pasty ass can wait." The older blonde frowned, his rifle hitting his side, "And don't underestimate her. With how quick she is she can survive on her own."

Denki eyed him, "Yeah, but you don't know when she'll get tired. Just like us. We're basically killing ourselves but being out here."

"She had Mezo, Fumikage and Izuku." Eijiro added. "They'll be fine so long as they have each other's back."

That was an agreeable statement. They entered another alley and walked through it where they stood in a street of abandoned brick buildings. The brick sidewalk hurt Denki's poor feet and he would whine underneath his breath as they continued.

They stood in a plaza, a mossy, unkempt water fountain was designed in the middle, a few benches placed a couple feet away and behind those benches were flower beds, though the flowers have withered away. Trees also sat by, the leaves were in shades of oranges, some fell above them, indicating winter would arrive soon.

"This place kind of reminds me of Musutafu." Eijiro let his eyes wander, "It reminds me of the mall."

"Damn, do I miss the mall." Denki let out a sigh, reminiscing about those days, "Anyone see a shoe store?"

Katsuki let out a snicker, "If we spot one we'll let you kno-"

"Never mind, found one." Denki ran to the store and pressed himself up against the glass. He wiped a dusty area before peeking in, his breath began to fog up the window, "I don't see anything. Everything looks like it's been untouched."

"Possibly a trap?" Eijiro muttered to himself as he walked to the glass doors. He grabbed his rifle that was strapped to him, his eyes looked to the side of the door in case of any wires, but it was hard to see due to the dark.

Behind them was Katsuki who eyed every building, "Who the hell would want to trap a shoe store?"

"Someone probably likes their shoes." Eijiro joked as he slowly opened the door. When he took a step in, his feet had tipped a wire. His eyes widened as a loud alarm was then set off, the trio being on high alert and quickly lifted their rifles. Before they could enter the store to where they could take cover, a few people emerged from their hiding spot, their own sets of guns aimed at them.

The males could only glare as they were at a disadvantage . There was no entering the store as a gun cocked behind them with a tone laced with malice, "Put your weapons down."

[little-cereal-draws]

ok sab season 3 theory time!

It's really more of an au; I'm calling it a theory because it's based off how they left season two and what they have potential to do with the story but I don't think it'll happen

David is going to be on parem

ok I know it's a long shot but hear me out. It's based off four points they ended season two with.

We didn't see his body so by film rules he's still alive. And no one ever says he's dead either. All Genya says is, "I can't feel his heartbeat," and they leave it at that. That doesn't 100% mean he's dead, it could just mean he's not nearby; especially because she wasn't amplified like she was the first time she found his heartbeat

They introduced Saint Neyar, the Durast. Of course, this was for Jesper's character arc but it showed the audience how powerful and deadly Fabricators can be even though they're the Grisha order used in the war the least

They introduced parem and how it affects Grisha. In that one coronation scene, it showed the physical toll it has on Grisha and addictive it is, how it amplifies their abilities to insane levels, and how Fjerda has access to it and is using it on Grisha

They're only loosely basing their plots off the books and they changed how David dies so why not change the rest of his story too

Now back to the theory/au. David isn't stupid. Even though he stayed to protect Genya, he knows there's nothing he can do against a being made of shadow. He pretty much just doomed himself. He's got too much to live for -he was going to propose for Saint's sake!- so there's no way he's going to stand there and die or try to futilely fight it. He was never a fighter anyway, so he runs. Maybe out a window, maybe out the door, idk but he makes it out. He does get seriously injured though; hence the giant blood splatter Genya saw later.

He doesn't have time to check the elevator for Genya; he's being chased, the fold is expanding, he's bleeding, he needs to get out of there and hope she did the same. He'll come back and find her later he decides. He runs through the woods for a while until he can't take another step and collapses. Eventually he gets found by a Fjerdan scout. They take him back to their camp where a few other Grisha they found fleeing are also being held.

Flashforward a little while: Nikolai is the king, Alina is struggling with her new powers and public backlash, and the newest threat to the barely stable country is parem attacks. They've only increased since the first one at the coronation and everyone's afraid. Grisha are going missing left and right only to return fatally hooked to the drug and Otkazat'sya are calling upon their king to end the new bloodshed by Grisha against them. Tensions between Grisha and Otkazat'sya are running high again and there have been many fights have broken out from it.

Nikolia, Alina, and probably The Crows too get roped into trying to stop the murder of civilians while figuring out a cure for the drug. Along the way, they hear whispers of the most fearsome parem warrior of all. Not the inferni who can destroy ten houses with one shot, not the tidemaker who can pull people's blood out straight through their skin, not even the heartrender who can kill fifty people with one flick of their wrist. No, it's a fabricator. He can level whole buildings with one look and is untouchable by any weapons. He'll strangle you with your own clothes and even the out-of-the-box thinkers who tried to take him on naked got horribly mutilated. It turns out bones are just calcium and blood is just iron.

Our team of protagonists get ready to stop them but when they get there, they see something that stops them in their tracks. It's David. He's the one all the whispered rumors are about. He's alive but looks only just, like a moving corpse. This wasn't something they planned for and are completely thrown off. While they try to regroup and come up with a new plan, Genya steps out. They lock eyes and for a second Genya thinks he recognizes her until she feels her necklace digging into her throat. She's choking and gagging but doesn't stop looking in his eyes as she scratches at the metal. Just as her vision begins to fade to black around the edges, his eyes grow wide. That ruby... he knows that ruby. He was going to use it for... something, he doesn't remember what, but it was important. And if this woman has it than she must be... David holds his hands up placatingly and Genya falls to her knees coughing and gasping for air.

David doesn’t do anything for the rest of the battle which gives our protagonists a slight advantage. It’s still a strenuous fight and Alina has to use her new shadow powers to win, which she was very conflicted abt, but they beat them. Some of the grisha get killed, they can’t help it, but Nikolai made it very clear when these attacks started that they’re going to try and take everyone alive and see if they can help them first. There's a bit here about Alina being harassed by the public for her shadow powers even though she was saving them. Right as another fight is about to break out, Nikolai decides it's time to leave.

Genya’s mind is racing the whole trip back to the palace. She wants to talk to David so bad and kiss and hug him, but she doesn’t know how much he remembers. He stopped just short of killing her before and she doesn’t want to push it. David’s thoughts are racing too. He knows that woman, he loves that woman, but his brain is too foggy to recall where he met her or what her name is. As the drug slowly wears off, he can piece together more and more until he finally remembers the last time he saw her. Genya.

By the time they make it to the Palace, all the remaining Grisha have come off their high and are begging for another hit. Their eyes are even more sunken than before and they’re shaking so bad they need help getting out of the wagon. When it comes to David’s turn, he looks at Genya and whispers her name. She instantly bursts into tears because he remembers. Shaking like a leaf in the wind, he reaches out as best as the restraints they put on his hands will let him and puts his hand on the side of her face. Everyone else is standing at the ready, weapons drawn, in case he attacks but Genya stands there and lets him do it. She bites her lip to stifle a sob and squeezes her eyes shut, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. He remembered. He still loved her. He was alive. And yes, they were a long way from ok but in this moment, but she has hope that they could get there some day.

The rest of the season goes on to deal with Alina's shadow powers and Nikolia sends The Crows to the Ice Court to see if they can find out where the Fjerdans are getting the parem or how they're making it. The captured Grisha are being kept in cells until they are over their addictions and it's a painful sight to see. Even though they're being fed, they're morbidly skinny. Even though they're warm, they tremble with each breath. Even though they moved beds into the cells, the bags around their eyes look like they haven't slept in years. They cry and beg and curse and yell; trying anything to get even the smallest amount of parem.

David offers to help in the effort to find an anecdote and tell them everything he knows, which Nikolai agrees to but refuses to let him experiment with any actual parem. Genya has never seen David react like that to anything before. The way he was pressed up against the bars innocently, politely offering his help to the king, listing his years of experience and qualifications then suddenly having the mask drop off his face revealing what he truly felt, rage. He paced his cell and threw a chair into the wall, yelling that they would never figure it out without him, they needed his help, and he only needed a little bit of parem, just a little bit. He scared her.

The cells are not fabricator proof, especially for one that has been affected by parem, and every night he bends the bars and goes out looking for where Nikolai is keeping his tiny experimenting stash. The whole palace can hear him tripping over things in the dark, opening and closing doors, emptying drawers onto the ground. It gets brought up in a meeting one morning. Alina wants to station more guards around the palace to stop him, but Genya argues that David hasn't hurt anyone, taken anything, and always returns to his cell in the morning so adding more guards is unnecessary. Nikolai says that his parem isn't in the Palace at all, it's in a secret outside workshop he's commissioning exactly in case something like this happened. Genya continues to press her point off of that saying that maybe this is something that David needs to do to recover. If he searches the whole Palace and sees that there is no parem there, he might be more inclined to cooperate when they say that they're not giving him any. Much to Alina's outrage, Nikolai takes Genya's side. Alina's powers start acting up and she has to step out and deal with that and the main plot.

That night is the last night David searches. In the very early hours of the morning, he ends up in Genya's room, hovering at the foot of her bed like a phantom. She could feel him coming down the hallway and is wide awake, but she still has her eyes closed and is forcing her pounding heart to slow. "Genya?" he whispers. "Genya? I know you have it. Please, Genya, I just want a little bit, just a little bit." She doesn't respond, trying to keep her face as neutral as possible and not respond to how desperate he sounds. The silence is so long she wonders if he fell asleep standing up. Suddenly he speaks again, voice cracking with emotion, "Saints, Genya... you're killing me." It takes everything in her not to sit up and tell him everything right then. Tell him where the workshop is, how to get in, and to please forgive her, she's only doing this because she loves him. He shuffles down the hallway and Genya cries. He doesn't leave his cell at night after that.

The season ends with all the addicted Grisha either receiving an anecdote, The Crows probably find something at the Ice Court, or getting over it from going cold turkey. Except now the problem is all these people's powers have drastically changed (think like Nina's powers after she recovered from parem). So now they've got this population of Grisha who have all new powers that have never been seen before and that sets up season four. David proposes to Genya for real and they finally get their happy ending and nothing bad ever happens to them ever again.

[aangarchy]

So i wanna add some extra notes here bc some of the replies rlly irk me lol

"Maybe mako is less powerful and thus his lightning doesn't have as much oomf" "maybe mako's lightning was weakened due to the bloodbending" "maybe mako can control how much power his lightning has" yea sure all of those things could be true but that's all a big fat maybe. We don't know, and the show doesn't explain it. That's my point. All we see is in atla lightning is regarded as super dangerous and deadly, every person we saw get hit was down for the count (one dead one gravely injured), and now it doesn't even singe the uniform of the person that got hit.

Even the most powerful firebenders (aka iroh) refuse to use it as often because it requires precision and concentration. He didn't shoot lightning at Zuko during training because it could be deadly. Iroh is established as one of the most skilled firebenders in the show (we know this bc when iroh threatens to fight people take that very seriously + he invented his own technique) so if even Iroh can't control lightning to make it so it only stuns, what makes y'all think Mako is able to do that, WHILE being bloodbent? Mako is established as talented yes, but not extraordinary. He was able to wrestle with the bloodbending enough to conjure the lightning and aim at amon, i don't think he had the luxury of deciding to stun or not.

"Aang got shot in the heart that's why he died and Amon just got stunned" bro LOOK at that fucking scar!! You can't just get up after a hit like that no problem, even if it didn't pass through the heart.

That's a severe burn. Amon should at least be staggering, uniform burned off of him, breathing heavy. But no, he immediately ran out the door after Mako, and was capable of bloodbending again just like that. Iroh had fire shot at him from a distance into his right shoulder/chest area, and he needed several days of rest before even attempting to ride an ostrich horse to the oasis. Why is it that LIGHTNING suddenly has less of an effect than plain old fire??

I found several screencaps from the scene in question, look where that hits. This isn't just electrocution, this is a bolt of lightning zapping out of Mako's fingertips. (I was going to point out Zuko got hit in the same spot by Azula, but i remembered this was during a powerboost by the comet. Nevertheless, the Aang and Iroh part still stands.)

"Amon probably has rubber stuff installed in his uniform bc they also worked with electric weapons" now that's the ONE explanation that makes sense. The single issue i have with this though is that he's not wearing a chestpiece, which is where Mako shot him. It could be under his hood/shirt, but again we don't get that context from the show. This is another maybe and i really hate maybes.

So i'm not that good at physics and other sciency stuff. Do rubber soles prevent electrocution even if that's not the place where the electricity touches? (This is the part where i'm rlly uneducated so do explain in baby terms pls.)

I saw someone in the comments try to explain that Mako's lightning is less powerful, and it's proven bc he and a dozen other benders provide power to the city by shooting lightning into an electrical plant, and that shooting lightning as powerful as Azula's into the plant would basically overpower it and blow it up. Listen that's a decent point to make, but this is the atla universe, not ours. I'm assuming they made powerplants that were capable of containing the amount of power regular lightning has in the show, so to me it still doesn't explain why Amon was just able to walk away no injuries no nothing.

To reiterate, the point i'm making here is just this: they suddenly underpowered lightning with no clear or proper explanation in tlok, and i don't like that. Plain and simple. We can sit here and theorize all day but that's not my point in the post. That's it. Ok bye!

God i still hate how much they underpowered lightning in tlok. Mako shot a lightningbolt straight at Amon's chest. That should have killed him instantly. Aang got a bolt shot at him from way further away into his back and he died. Mako was literally inches away from Amon. And don't come at me with bullshit like "oh Mako made it so his lightning wouldn't kill him" because why on earth would Mako not aim to kill here?

Honestly the way this show maimed both lightning and metalbending is really annoying. I get it, these skills get perfected over time and more and more people start to train to learn them bla bla bla. I'm still allowed to be pissy about it lol

[alexsummerz]

Chapter 9: Bound by Silence

Here is Chapter 9, hoping you still enjoy it. We're getting close to the end! Apologies for any mistakes, and feel free to share your feedback as always.

"Move faster if you don't want to lose sight of me." Krauser commanded.

I don't give a damn, (Name) thought to herself, though she refrained from uttering the words aloud. They had been trekking through the island for almost an hour, and she was struggling to keep up. The landscape consisted of constant ascents, obstacles, and rocky terrain, and of course, her companion made no effort to assist her. Even though he had warned her beforehand, the journalist had reached her limit. An hour of walking alongside a soldier who maintained an unyielding pace while she was still recovering from her injuries, an hour with a man who only spoke to her to issue orders. Well...at least he was no longer trying to kill her. Nevertheless, she doubted she would ever be able to trust him. "I thought you were used to the field" he jeered once again, as if their current predicament was an everyday occurrence.

Finally catching up to Krauser after scaling a ledge, she retorted, gasping for breath, "Should I remind you of what I went through just a few hours ago? Well, whatever..."

"If you say so. Either way, I warned you—I don't have time to waste, sweetheart." 'Sweetheart'...Go to hell. She simply couldn't stand him.

The young woman stood up, catching her breath, while her "comrade" had already advanced several meters ahead of her. She vaguely surveyed her surroundings. The night was pitch-black. In the distance, she could make out heavily guarded buildings, protected by what seemed to be half-human, half-monstrous soldiers. She considered herself fortunate that Krauser had chosen to circumvent them, preventing her from being attacked and avoiding drawing any attention. God, I’m so tired..

.

Suddenly, (Name) felt her hair being yanked forcefully as she was seized by an infected soldier. A surge of anger and profanities surged within her as Krauser seemed to have vanished from her field of vision. That son of a bitch.

She fought back as best she could, attempting to break free from the soldier's grip, thrashing with ferocity. Finally, with a desperate effort, she managed to escape the soldier's hold.

However, before she could catch her breath, another soldier, approaching from behind, poised to strike her with a deadly axe. Time seemed to stretch into infinity as the weapon bore down on her, menacingly.

She didn't have time to react, to draw a weapon from her bag or dodge the blow. It was too late. Was this how it was all going to end? Instinctively, she closed her eyes and raised her arms to protect herself as she heard the sound of the blade sinking into flesh.

.

Wait?

She felt no pain.

Slowly, she reopened her eyes to find herself face to face with an imposing, muscular figure standing nearly two meters tall. "Krau-Krauser?" (Name) stammered in shock.

"Stay back." he commanded.

She immediately obeyed, keeping a certain distance as he remained standing in front of her, his hands gripping the infected soldier's, the axe lodged in his lower abdomen. Yet, he showed no signs of pain.

.

With a swift motion, he snapped the enemy's neck and abruptly pulled the axe from his lower abdomen, still unfazed. (Name) was astonished to see Krauser save her for the second time. She was completely bewildered by this man. Why was he acting this way?

Meanwhile, he remained stoic, apparently immune to pain. He turned to the young woman and asked if she was okay. Did it truly matter to him? Unable to find the words, she remained silent, still in shock from the situation.

"Cat got your tongue?" he asked, slightly aggressive. "We need to keep going."

Without waiting for a response, Krauser turned away and continued on his path. (Name) stood motionless for a moment, gradually regaining her composure after the dramatic event. However, she couldn't help but notice Krauser's evident wound. She decided to address it, calling out to him before approaching and taking her bag off her shoulders.

He abruptly halted and responded in a curt tone, "What's the matter?"

"You're injured, let me have a look." she said with concern in her voice. Indeed, even though he concealed any pain on his face, the wound he had sustained was bleeding profusely. She finally found something to dress the wound in her bag, approaching him. However, he abruptly stopped her by firmly gripping her wrist. "I don't need your help, put that away." he declared firmly.

A silence hung between them as (Name) refused to avert her gaze from the towering man. Her eyes expressed unwavering determination, and her voice took on an authoritative tone. "You have no business playing the lone wolf. Let me take care of this." Despite the mystery surrounding Krauser's motivations for saving her narrowly on two occasions, it was clear to her that she had to repay him in some way, despite the peculiar atmosphere that lingered between them.

Krauser hesitated for a moment, then gently released his grip on her wrist. "Do as you wish, but be quick." he replied somberly.

.

(Name) gently took hold of his t-shirt and lifted it slightly, revealing the toned lower part of his belly adorned with scars. His wound was now exposed. Carefully, she placed her hands on his skin to disinfect and clean the injury. With each touch, Krauser winced slightly in pain. "Sorry if it hurts." she apologized.

The wounded man said nothing, unable to resist analyzing (Name)'s features that he had never truly noticed before, too preoccupied with the desire to kill each other. It was the first time her face was so close to his, and it was on this occasion that he noticed the beauty of her features, even with all the dirt covering her.

He found it amusing to see the seriousness in her expression, as she genuinely seemed concerned about his injury.

As the young woman finished wrapping his lower belly with a long bandage, she raised her eyes and finally met the gaze of the injured man.

Their faces were now inches apart, creating an atmosphere charged with electricity.

God, that’s some beautiful blue. (Name) thought, now immersed in the gaze of the former major, surprised to find that his eyes, usually filled with aggression, were now devoid of any hostility.

As they locked eyes, a new wave of tension settled between them. Their gazes delved into each other, the silent exchange prolonging the moment. It was as if the outside world faded away, making room for an inexplicable connection. (Name) felt disturbed by this strange feeling emanating from their closeness. It was as if she was rediscovering the man standing in front of her.

Meanwhile, Krauser remained silent, continuing to study (Name)'s face with great attention, still captivated by her delicate features and unique beauty, while her hands still delicately rested on his lower abdomen.

The young woman felt unsettled by this strange sentiment emanating from their proximity and suddenly regained her composure without finding the right words. She stammered, "I'm done." Stepping away from Krauser, she distanced herself, stating that it was time to continue their journey. What-just-happened?

The now tended man kept silent, simply rising to his feet to follow her, as if this silent exchange had also stirred something within him.

.

The tension lingered in the air as they resumed their march, their footsteps resonating in the tormented landscape that surrounded them. Emotions swirled in (Name)'s mind as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. Impossible for me to feel anything for this guy. Doubts and questions crowded her thoughts. Or is it really-impossible? But for now, she chose to keep silent.

.

Suddenly, Krauser broke the silence, his gaze abruptly turning towards a distant point. He seized the opportunity to quickly inform (Name) of someone's presence on the horizon, one of the individuals he was supposed to eliminate. A glimmer of excitement mixed with determination shone in his eyes as he pulled out the sample he had retrieved from his back pocket. Holding it tightly in his hand, he gazed at the sample with unsettling intensity. (Name), concerned about the turn of events, took a deep breath before asking him with a worried voice, "What do you plan to do with this sample?"

He abruptly interrupted her question, responding with a cold and determined tone, "Originally, I was supposed to deliver this sample to Wesker. It contains a strain of the dominant species of the virus, but now, I don't care. I'm going to inject it to become more powerful and crush that rookie down there."

She felt her heart tighten at Krauser's decision. It really tightened. Until now, all of the major's dubious decisions had left her indifferent, and she cared little for the person accompanying her as she had only felt disgust towards him before, but she couldn't explain exactly why it had changed.

With a voice filled with concern and conviction, she insisted, "Krauser, you can't do this. You must not succumb to temptation. I know you're better than that, you have more worth than becoming a mere instrument of destruction. You have to stop all of this."

He stared at her with a mixture of frustration and anger. "Because it matters to you? All of a sudden? Stay out of this."

The young woman sighed, sadness evident in her breath, but she didn't let herself be discouraged and took a deep breath. "Jack, please... Don't do this." She took the risk of using his first name for the first time, having discovered it in the documents she had read earlier. "I know what I said earlier-"

He looked at her, bewildered, emotions swirling across his face.

He finally turned away, resigned, and quickly injected himself with the sample. "Wait for me here." Then, without a word, he leaped away with animal-like agility to distance himself and continue his hunt.

.

(Name) remained motionless, her gaze fixed on the spot where Jack had disappeared. Her mind was tormented by a mix of anxiety, sadness, and anger. Above all, she felt a profound sadness, no more judgment, no more disgust. How far would this man go? Was he broken to this extent? She found herself hoping that there was still something left of him.

Damn it, these events are really taking an unexpected turn. I don't know what to think anymore.

Finally, she sighed and crouched down, waiting for the man's return. "I have no choice but to wait for you, in any case."

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

The Choosing Ball

----

The law is clear and very very simple: Janus must choose someone at the ball to become his future husband or wife. He would have two days to pick and at the ball they would choose. If he refused or wasn't chosen, he would be considered an outcast, a criminal against the state. Easy, simple, there was just one tiny problem.

Janus was already in love with someone else. Someone who he didn't have the option to choose.

Fortunately for him, Prince Roman doesn't seem to see that as a problem at all.

----

| Ao3 | Next -> |

Warnings: none (individual chapters will have their own warnings listed if needed)

Pairings: Anaroceit, background intruality, remile

Notes:

Anaroceit royalty AU anaroceit royalty AU anaroceit royalty AU anar-

Ok if you can't tell I'm very excited about posting this. I actually considered for a while using this as my entry for the TS Storytime Big Bang (btw, go sign up, lol) but I decided against it, so now you guys have it!

I've had this sitting in my google docs for a very long time, I tried my best to fix up grammar and stuff, especially in the first part, but please bare in mind that it's probably not as good as it could have been, I don't have anyone to beta read for me, lol.

Regardless, I really hope you guys enjoy this au as much as I do!!

----

“I know, my darling,” Janus whispered quietly into the dark of his room, the man curled into his side on the comfortable window seat groaned and shifted, “It’s unfair.”

“But why,” Virgil hissed out, Janus carded fingers through his hair, trying in vain to calm him as he had been doing all evening, but his personal guard - and secret romantic partner - was so worked up that even now he refused to relax, “What will happen to us after this weekend? My prince… I don’t want this to stop…”

“I know, darling,” Janus whispered again, squeezing Virgil’s shoulders. The situation they were in was indeed an unorthodox one. Virgil was his guard, no-one of noble blood, it just so happened that he had been the best that the castle could hire. Janus had found that he’d taken an immediate liking to the anxious boy - it was deceptive, how nervous he was, Janus had seen him with a sword, and Virgil could be deadly even without one - the moment he’d been presented in the throne room.

“I must pick a husband or wife at The Choosing Ball,” Janus said, quoting the law he knew off by heart, “If a royal has not found their partner by midnight on the night of this decennial ball, they shall be exiled, disowned and outcast, no longer considered of royal blood.”

“You’re twenty three years old now,” Virgil murmured sadly, “So you have to go this time.”

“Yes,” Janus nodded, “And you will be accompanying me.”

“I- what?” Virgil shot up, wide eyed, “But- but isn’t the ball only for royals and nobles?”

“It is, though we are allowed to bring some guards and servants, though weapons must be deposited on entrance,” Janus said, pulling a scroll from his sleeve, as though he’d just made it appear, and handing it to Virgil, “Here, all the regulations are written.”

Virgil read for a moment, before his eyes went wide, “Any servants or guards accompanying the royals and nobility will be given separate chambers? We’ll… be apart?”

“Indeed,” Janus said, tone a little sad, before scowling “It is supposed to help give us a chance to bond with the other candidates, since we will be sharing rooms with the ones the organisers consider us most likely to get along with, it is not necessarily to help up find our matches, moreso to strengthen future relations between kingdoms,”

“So we… won’t be able to see each other?” Virgil asked, voice shaking a little, Janus knew that he was panicking, trying hard to push the anxiety away, he was losing the battle quickly. 

“You can accompany me around the castle and at the ball itself,” Janus reassured, kissing his cheek, “And besides, I am known for my ability to sneak, I’m sure I’ll be able to sneak out and find you at nigh.”

He pressed another kiss to the top of his lover’s head, pulling him close and rubbing his ungloved hand up and down his arm. Virgil relaxed, if only slightly. Later, Janus would lift him and move them over to his bed, curling himself protectively around his guard- though it should really be the other way around- and falling asleep. 

—-

The next day, the castle was all a flurry. Handmaids manhandled him into a luxurious bath, scrubbing him down harshly. They didn’t care about his winces and huffs when their sponges and brushes moved too close to the delicate snake scales adorning the left side of his face - which also ran all down his chest and arm and coated his hand. Afterwards, he was manhandled back out of the bath and forced into more formal clothes than he would normally ever wear, even for council meetings with his father. 

The morning passed in a daze as servants rushed around, making sure everything he would need for the three day long trip was packed up and making sure he himself was ready. He couldn't find a moment of peace - or even a moment to see Virgil (his guard was getting much the same treatment as himself since everyone who would be in their convoy had to look perfect). 

Even in his room he was constantly being addressed by servant after servant, one bringing him the jewellery the seamstress had instructed go with his clothes and making sure it was all fastened properly. Three maids came in after that to comb and style his hair, a crown of braids pulled back into a perfectly neat bun on the back of his head that would keep his actual crown (which was to be brought to him later) secure on his head. 

The crown had a black veil attached to one half, hiding the golden scales on his face, the curse made him look unbecoming, they said.

By noon most of the convoy was ready to set off and the few handmaids and servants who would be making the journey with him were already settling into their own carriages. Janus still hadn’t seen Virgil, who was supposed to be riding in Janus’ carriage with him at his request. He was starting to become worried. He was stopped though by the approach of the king.

“Father,” Janus bowed deeply as the king stopped in front of him, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. Janus looked up, worried, wondering if he was about to be lectured for… something.

“Son,” His father responded, though he seemed to lose words after that, he took a moment to recover, when he did he didn’t sound angry, just… tired, “Just- please pick someone, Janus, you are my only son, I can’t lose you.”

Janus’ stomach did a flip, but all he did was take a deep breath to calm himself, before speaking, “I’ll… try, father.”

“Good boy,” His father nodded, stepping back and looking him over, eyes flickering to his scales, now hidden by a veil that made it even more difficult than normal to see though his left eye, “The handmaids did a good job making you look presentable.”

“Indeed,” Janus replied through gritted teeth, he never really knew how to feel about the way they treated his curse, but now there were more pressing matters, “Father, has anyone seen my guard? Storme? I haven’t seen him and he should be accompanying me.”

“I’ll have someone look for him,” His father nodded, “Get comfortable son, you have a long journey ahead of you.”

—-

“We found your guard, sire,” two other guards called from outside his carriage, “He’s not in the best state, we managed to get him out of the palace, but he’s asking for you.”

Janus was out of the carriage in two seconds flat, and the two guards led him back up the driveway to the doors, where another guard was holding onto Virgil. He looked absolutely stunning, decked out in the castle guard uniform, his own hair done up neatly and a shining sword at his back, though Janus quickly stopped his train of though, this wasn’t the time for admiring his partner who at present looked to be hyperventilating. The guard holding him let go as Janus approached, the prince crouched down next to Virgil, resting a gentle hand on his back. 

“Shh,” Janus whispered, drawing the ‘s’ out into a low hiss- he’d learned the sound was calming for Virgil, though he tried his best to repress the hiss in regular conversation- “I’m here, I’m safe, you're alright, deep breaths, Vee.”

“Jan?” Virgil murmured, finally looking up, his pupils were blown wide in panic, “You’re here?”

“I’m here,” He nodded, gently rubbing Virgil’s back. He could feel the guards gawking at them, so he shot them a glare over his shoulder.

“Inform the convoy that we will be present momentarily,” Janus commanded them, one nodded and the three scurried off, leaving them relatively alone.

“Can you walk?” Janus asked, voice gentle, “I will be able to comfort you better once we’re situated in the carriage.”

“I thought…” Virgil mumbled, already trying to get to his feet, “I thought you’d leave me behind…”

“Now why would I do that?” Janus asked, bracing Virgil with an arm so that he wouldn’t fall, “Of all the stupid things,”

“I… don’t know,” Virgil looked away, ashamed, “My thoughts ran from me again, I’m sorry.”

“Now now, I thought I’d gotten you to stop with apologising for that,” Janus said, flicking Virgil’s nose with a finger to show he wasn’t angry.

“Sorry,” Virgil mumbled again as they finally reached the carriage, the door was held open for him and he stepped inside, before turning to help Virgil in as well. 

“Close the curtain,” He commanded, though gently, as he reached to close the other. Virgil did so quickly, before slumping down onto the seat, Janus sat carefully next to him, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

"Are you alright?" Janus asked once they were finally in private.

Virgil hesitated, taking a few deep breaths before sighing, "I’m much better now, thanks to you." 

"You're certain?" Janus asked, reaching his other hand to cup Virgil's face, running a thumb over his cheek. He saw the blush creeping onto his guard's pale face and smiled.

"I'm alright, I swear it," Virgil nodded, turning his face in order to kiss Janus' gloved palm.

“You look gorgeous,” Janus said with a smile, lowering his hand to his lap and gently nudging Virgil's shoulder with his own. Virgil turned to him, rolling his eyes.

“They- they pinned back my bangs,” He said, a hint of annoyance in his voice, Janus couldn’t help but chuckle, giving Virgil a distraction would help even more than his presence alone already had, he knew. 

“Yes, and I can see your pretty eyes now,” Janus grinned, leaning forward a little so they were mere inches apart, staring into the deep purple of Virgil’s eyes, the head of the convoy had called for everyone to begin heading out and the carriages all began moving,

“I can’t see yours,” Virgil said, glaring at the veil before reaching forward and pushing it out of the way, trying to tuck it behind his ear, Janus couldn’t help but smile, in the end Virgil gave up and simply took off the crown altogether, “There, much better,”

"I'm glad to see that you are feeling better,” Janus said, he couldn’t help leaning forward to press a kiss to Virgil’s cheek, "And I'm sorry I couldn't come to find you sooner," 

“It's alright, my own fault anyway for letting my thoughts get to me so much,” Virgil said quietly, leaning forward to kiss Janus’ cheek in return, though Janus turned his head at the last seconds and caught Virgil’s lips with his own, when they broke apart, Virgil’s face was red with blush and Janus couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Good,” he said, before returning for another kiss. 

—-

The castle in which the ball was held was bigger than his own, though it was also in the middle of nowhere with no surrounding kingdom. Royals and the highest of nobility from all of the ruling kingdoms in each of the twelve surrounding countries would be attending, so Janus had really no idea what to expect after they arrived. Likely to be forced into mingling with forty-odd other barely adult royals and nobles. How annoying.

“Once we leave the carriage we will be separated,” Janus warned Virgil, squeezing his hands tightly, “As they will be showing us to our sleeping quarters, I will come and find you as soon as I can, alright my darling?”

Virgil nodded, pulling back one of the curtains to look out of the window only to see the carriage pass under an enormous, elaborately decorated gateway.

“You’d better be ready to tell me about how awful all your roommates are when you do,” Virgil smiled at him, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Oh trust me, I’m sure I’ll have much to complain about when we meet again,” Janus smiled, before reaching up to remove one of his earrings- an ear cuff designed to look like a snake coiled around his upper ear- and handed it to Virgil, “Keep this safe for me until I come back, will you?”

“Of course,” Virgil said with a nod. It was a game they liked to play, really, whenever Janus or Virgil had to leave for whatever reason, Janus would give Virgil a piece of his jewellery to ‘keep safe’ until they met again. It seemed to help with the anxiety of being apart. Though Janus would never admit that it helped him as well as Virgil to deal with separation. 

Janus sighed as the carriage stopped moving and he began to hear a flurry of noise from outside. He pressed a quick kiss to Virgil’s forehead, squeezing his hand one last time and hastily returning his crown to his head before the door of the carriage was opened for them and they stepped out. Immediately Janus was whisked away by a person who was unfamiliar to him, though from their clothes Janus could guess that they worked for the castle’s staff. 

“I will be showing you to your room, your highness,” The butler informed, “And I am head of servants for your room during your stay, You may call me Elliott, if you need me for any reason, do not hesitate to ask another servant to retrieve me,”

Janus only hummed an acknowledgment, keeping his expression set in stone. Gone were the kind smiles and gentle words he allowed to be shared with Virgil, now all they would see was the stone cold face of the serpent prince, as the rumours called him.

As they walked, Elliott had informed him that he was the first of his room to arrive, and that he’d be staying with three princes other than himself, though he wasn’t informed of who exactly they were, and he didn’t particularly care, as for now he was focusing on surveying the area and committing the rooms he saw and the route they took to memory.

They stopped when they arrived at his room, Elliott opened the doors wide and allowed him to look around their shared chambers. The room was shaped as an octagon, with four beds large enough to fit three larger people comfortably each on every opposite wall. Each fourth of the room seemed to be identical, with a vanity and dresser each, though each space was decorated differently, with different delicately painted art on the walls of each quadrant, different colours and designs of bedsheets and drapes. It seemed that the room was designed as four separate rooms with the walls between them simply removed.

“Since you are the first to arrive, you’re able to choose which space you want,” Elliott told him, “Your belongings will be brought up later in the day, otherwise you are asked to wait here until all of your roommates arrive unless informed otherwise, and then you will be given free reign to explore the castle until the communal banquet at eight this evening.”

With Janus’ sharp nod of understanding, Elliott left him in the room alone. Immediately Janus moved towards the section of the room decorated in purple and gold. The wall art depicted scenes of nature- golden vines with lilac flowers wrapping delicately around each other in front of a background that showed through different shades of purple. The bedsheets were plum, with royal purple and gold patterning stamping similar curling vines into the sheets. Janus found the colour reminded him of Virgil- purple was always his guard’s favourite colour.

He found there was nothing much to do- if he were to be confined to this room until his roommates arrived- so he simply laid down on the centre of the bed and resigned himself to wait.

----

| Next -> |

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @reptilianrapscallion420 @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess (if anyone wants to be added generally or for this specific fic, let me know!)

@glacierruler I'm tagging you too because you seemed very interested in this one on the poll, lol, please link if you'd rather not be for future updates though :)