#you could not defeat him in battle if you tried! he lived very long (unnaturally long) so he was thought to be immortal

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

So, Ahti II, huh?

I've explained Ahti II's backstory a bit in the past, but there's not really... any general information on him. What he's like. So I'm talking about him now! First here’s this handy dandy information sheet I made of Ahti some time ago:

(+ Art reference)

King Ahti I (the First) formed the Kingdom of Osmeri about a millennium ago from the scattered groups of merfolk living in the Baltic Sea, and his descendants have been ruling ever since. Ahti II is the oldest child of the current queen (if barely, him and his sister are twins) and therefore he’ll be next on the throne. He’s been raised for that purpose pretty much his whole life: he’s knowledgeable in politics, history, literature and languages. Now he just has to learn what people really care about! Hence why his parents sent him and his sister off to the coast of Finland. They’re privately tutored as they navigate normal life and try to make friends.

Ahti II would indeed make for a pretty good ruler: he’s kind, he’s patient, his manners are impeccable, he’s very knowledgeable, and he wants to take absolutely everyone into consideration, although that last feature does make him more of a people pleaser… he would like everyone to be happy, but since that’s frankly impossible he takes it a bit hard and blames himself when compromises don’t satisfy everyone. Still, the role of a diplomat is a natural one for him and he slips into it very easily. He keeps his own interests and thoughts on the background and centers other people and the actually important topics first. Ahti II can handle crowds, even able to entertain and hold the attention of big ones, but prefers quieter environments and just a few people whose company to enjoy.

Ahti II’s big interests include literature and, by the heavens, FISH. He is ridiculously excited about fish! His interest was sparked by the domestic pikes his family raises and it never once has died down. He loves learning about fish and aquatic life from foreign waters and keenly eyes the fish that he can see while swimming. He’ll very enthusiastically explain everything he knows to anyone who’s willing to listen. Like stated above he’s also very enthusiastic about reading and stories, it’s how he often learned other languages as a child. He dabbles a bit in literary analysis and even writes himself, but he’s shyer about showing his poems to others. Along with writing, his other hobbies include collecting vintage animal illustrations, hiking in nature, and swimming, since now he can’t do it all the time. He likes to keep himself busy with activities!

Ahti II has a speaking quirk where he tend to exclusively use formal language, in every language he knows. In part this is because he often liked to read older books as a child, but also he just really likes speaking that way and he likes the sort of reputation it gives him. He wants people to see him as a polite and jolly person first and foremost, whom one can trust when there’s trouble. He never swears, often he exclaims “heavens” when things go badly (the “heavens” he talks about are not “the heaven” you might think of, “heaven/haven” is the common name of a species of giant sea turtle that according to legends sailors could trust to help them if their ship sunk). He might not drop the act even when he’s upset.

His favourite type of music is cheerful corporate pop music that most would find annoying. His favorite food overall is cheese and cucumber sandwiches, his favourite snack is sweet liquorice. His favourite animal is the northern pike, if you asked him what his favourite land animal is he’d say lion. His favourite flower is coltsfoot. His favourite smells are rain and saltwater.

[redrobin-detective]

Ok, I’ve tried and tried and tried to write this fic because I see it so clearly in my mind but it’s just not going no matter what I do. But I don’t want the idea to die with me. The closest this came to being written was exile which was an attempt to bleed out some of the energy of this au.

Anyway, so it starts off vaguely similar to canon only more aggressive. There had been underlying tension between ghosts and humans for a while, the dead jealous/angry at the living for disrespecting them. The successful creation of the Fenton ghost portal (and another halfa) was considered an act of war and so the ghosts responded in kind. So basically all of S1 occurs fairly close to canon except ghost attacks are more violent and have increasingly more consequences as time passes. Also the attacks aren’t just in Amity Park with ghosts becoming a worldwide issue but Amity is a focal point. Regular people know the ghosts hate them though they don’t know why. Phantom is very much a controversial figure as he is a ghost but also clearly is fighting off the more violent ghosts. 

One day, not long after the events of Control Freaks, Amity Park wakes up to find three of their own are gone. Danny Fenton, Sam Manson and Tucker Foley are nowhere to be found. There’s a massive manhunt, the parents go on TV and beg for information but they cannot be found. Curiously enough, town hero Phantom was also missing. There’s some evidence they left of their own volition so the Mansons and Foleys eventually relent that the kids fled on their own. The Fentons are 100% certain the kids were stolen/killed by ghosts as a statement. And the fact that Phantom went missing around the same time means he was the one who killed them. Jazz knows Danny was Phantom but had no idea what was going on and knew her parents wouldn’t listen she just, kept quiet and privately tried to piece together what happened. 

Three years pass and finally it looks like the Ecto War is coming to a close. Young, naive ghosts attempted to raise Pariah Dark in a bid to win. It went disastrously but Phantom (who was periodically spotted around the world, deep in the worst battles of the war) and group of loyal allies subdued the king. By the law of ghosts, Phantom was named heir apparent and he declared that the fighting would stop. Humans and ghosts would have to negotiate and co-exist in peace. But he’s not king yet, no he needs to be crowned at the place where it began, Amity Park’s Fenton portal (”where it all began” has a double meaning of the beginning of the war but also symbolically where Phantom began as Kings assume the crown where their living life ended to show their abandonment of their first life and the commitment to their second). Amity is NOT happy to hear that their former hero is coming home.

Amity has been through the wringer, ghost attacks got pretty bad. The Fenton’s throw themselves into their work to cancel out the grief, they create a group of ghost hunters nicknamed the Reds (for their red blood, ghosts are nicknamed Greens) to control the threat. Valerie heads the young adult division and is considered one of the best, she drops out of school to devote herself to it full time. Oh also her dad is now the Mayor as most have died or didn’t want the job. There are still people who like Phantom and see him as a hero (a lot of Casper Kids) but it’s generally an unpopular opinion in town. Maddie and Jack are ready to obliterate the ghost that took their son’s life the moment he’s within city limits. It’s a powder keg ready to blow. It all comes to a head when Phantom and his entourage arrive.

First off, Phantom looks very different, much less human looking than when he left. He’s clearly aged like a normal teen but his eyes look much, much older.  His skin is dead white with a blue tinge to it from his ice core and his aura is super cold. His hair is longer and is very misty that kind of swirls around him and his has fangs and claws. When he’s deep in battle or his obsession, his sclera turn black and he looks scary af. His entourage is ghosts who have sworn loyalty to him, who he picked up along the way after battling beside them for 3 years. Fright Knight, Skulker and Frostbite are recognizable allies. They are not happy that their future King is back in Amity (secretly fearing they’ll lose him once more to his human life). J&M have a shot and are going for the kill when they see something that shocks them; Sam and Tucker are in Phantom’s entourage.

There had been whispers that Phantom interacted with humans, that humans were in his inner circle but this is something else together. And so are Sam and Tucker. Sam is Phantom’s General, she is talented and collected and half feral. She used to be a pacifist but the trials of war and understanding that peace sometimes needs to be fought for made her compromise. She’s covered in scars and an extremely talented fighter. She’s missing her right hand up to her forearm, she can form a ‘phantom limb’ (basically borrowing ectoplasm from her future ghost) to do some things with some powers. Tucker is the support, he uses human and ghost tech to organize, weaponize and generally keep things running. He’s covered in homemade tech (shields and weapons and computers) and he rarely removes. Both he and Sam have kinda forgotten how to interact with and really BE human after so long among the dead. They had attempted to conceal themselves but they had forgotten how strong parental love and recognition is. J&M want to know about Danny, the teens don’t know how to respond but assure them he’s alive. Phantom can’t bring himself to look at them.

This is where I start to lose track of things but there will be parallels of Valerie/Maddie vs Sam as female warriors on opposite sides who are willing to go behind, possibly compromising the things important to them, for victory. Tucker will be contrasted against Jack/Jazz as the one making weapons but also generally keeping the human parts of the team mentally/physically afloat. *Severe* PTSD for all three of them. They’re also unnaturally codependent on each other, get super anxious when one of the trio is out of sight and sleep in a big cuddle pile. They will fucking Kill You if you look at one of them wrong. Vlad will be involved, he had been jailed for war crimes but convinced Walker to stage a coup to overthrow Danny and take the crown before he’s actually declared King and is too powerful. Vlad is more unhinged here, more ghost than human (a hint on what could happen to Danny if he’s not careful). He is eventually defeated but he sacrifices his life for ghost power which, in the end, is what makes him able to be beaten.

 There’s lots of ideas on what it means to be live or dead and where the divide really is, is it a heartbeat or it is how you choose to use your existence. On how duty shouldn’t mean you need to give up everything. Because Jack and Maddie believe that Phantom killed their son and, in a way, they’re right. Before they left, the ghost war had gotten so bad and the rumors of Dark being resurrected were going around. Amity attacks were at an all time high, people in their school were being killed just because Danny went there. He realized he had to choose between Fenton or Phantom and he chose to protect the world. He abandoned his human identity and went off to fight in war. Tried to convince Sam and Tucker to stay but they followed him through hell and back. Because Danny spends so much time as Phantom, Fenton is severely neglected. His long hair is cool and floaty as Phantom but is unkempt and stringy, hanging in his face as Fenton. He’s wan and underweight and looks like a walking corpse. He knows his human half will give out soon if he doesn’t give it more attention but he just can’t there’s too much to do, too many people to save.

It would end with Danny being outed to the town, not the world, just the town. Jack and Maddie need to recon with the fact that their boy DID leave of his own choice but only because their failure to protect him (from both the portal and ghosts) made him feel he had to take all this responsibility on his shoulders. Danny also has to recognize that he (and Sam/Tuck) can’t do all this on their own and they can trust and rely on the people around him. Phantom is crowned King but he decides Amity will be his base. The trio eat more, sleep some, catches up on school all the while continuing their duties as King and court. The ghosts also see that Phantom’s humanity isn’t a weakness but a strength and will bring peace to the Earth/Zone so they also take some of the burdens off his shoulder. 

Basically I load up heavily with angst at the beginning and end with all the love and comfort imaginable. I just can’t fucking figure out the middle and my motivation will not let me write this shit out. But I can’t let this AU die bc it fucking keeps me up at night.

[youbloodymadgenius]

Too Late (Ivar x reader)

A/N: This is my entry to @fuchsiagrasshopper's 200 Followers Writing Challenge. Congratulations again, love 💝

This is a variation on Ivar's death. Consider yourself warned. And... sorry 😔

The prompt, from the song Too Late, by Ashes Divides, is in bold and italics.

@zuxiezendler - Thank you for reassuring me (I needed it) and for beta reading this for me 🌺

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: Ivar is about to go to war against Alfred. His eyes are very blue, though.

Warnings: major character death; mention of blood and fatal wound (nothing graphic).

Words: 1815

When a hand lingers on his forehead, Ivar slowly opens his eyes before shifting in the makeshift bed and eventually sitting upright, allowing you to take a seat next to him. Looking at him with concern, you tilt your head to the side, one of your hands resting lightly on his chest while the other grazes his thigh.

Studying him, you bite your lower lip. "Your eyes have turned deep blue, Ivar. You know what that means, remember?" Ivar snorts and then rolls his eyes, visibly annoyed. You don't stop, though. "Hvitserk told me. Your brothers used to watch over you. They knew that when your eyes turned blue that you were in great danger of breaking your bones. And they would say 'Not today, Ivar. Not today.'"

Knitting his brow, your lover wearily rubs a filthy hand over his face, his eyes never leaving yours. "I remember." He finally nods, a half-smile curling his lips. "I know."

"You could let Hvitserk take command, Ivar. You'd stay behind, for once. I could even stay with you." You know you're walking on eggshells, but when Ivar answers, there's surprisingly no anger in his voice. Though the calm determination in his gaze tells you that arguing is pointless.

"No, Y/N." He shakes his head and grabs your hand, playing absently with your fingers. "No," he repeats, "Hvitserk must lead the back-up troops, it has to be someone I trust. As for you, I need you on the battlefield. You're our best shieldmaiden, and you know that. And...", he tilts his head, lightly shrugging, "I don't think we can defeat Alfred if I'm not there too... You know..." He taps his forehead with his pointer finger and you know exactly what he means. He's right. His men are fearsome warriors, but they sometimes – most of the time – need guidance when fighting, and who else could do that better than Ivar, with his cunning and extraordinary strategic mind?

No. He won't change his mind.

For the briefest moment, you think you should tell him. But no. It wouldn't change anything. You're not deluding yourself, he'd still go. And he'd demand that you stay behind. And that's not happening. It's an option you refuse to even consider. If he goes, you go. That's who you are. Both of you. A king – a warrior – and a shieldmaiden.

You'll tell him afterwards. Once it's all over. Once Alfred is defeated.

"Okay, then." Leaning in, you give him a peck on the lips before standing up. "Promise you'll be careful."

Flashing you a reassuring yet tired smile, he nods. "I always am."

The battle rages for hours now and you know you should feel it in your bones. The pain. The exhaustion. But you don't. Unharmed and powerful, a shield in your left hand, it's like you're flying, dodging blow after blow, slicing throat after throat, driving your trustworthy sword into chests or guts, as you slash your way through the enemies. Exhilarated, you shout war cries and you know that if they are cathartic to you, they scare the Saxon soldiers. The thought makes you laugh – and indeed a crazy laugh escapes your throat as you run forward, swinging your blade from side to side, momentarily crouching down as an axe flies over your head.

Attacking a Saxon with your shield, you beat him savagely with repeated blows to his skull before skewering him with your sword. As he falls to the ground, already dead, you look up to the sky for a second, and silently thank the gods, a beaming smile adorning your face. You love that. You're never more alive than on the battlefield. As you lower your gaze, eager to slaughter more and more Christians, your eyes catch something on the left.

And it's like the world stops spinning.

Like your heart stops beating.

And you stop breathing.

Petrified, you can't comprehend what you're seeing. It doesn't make sense. It can't make sense. Why is this Saxon stabbing Ivar? How can it be? Why isn't your lover fighting back? Why is he bleeding? Your shield and sword slipping out of your hands, the ringing in your ears is suddenly deafening, and for a fleeting second, you think you might throw up. But you won't. Because that can't be real. You're hallucinating, for sure. It can't be happening. It doesn't make sense. It can't. It simply can't.

A sudden cry of pain and the distinctive and all too familiar sound of a broken bone snap you out of your stupor and you rush over to your lover – 'Not today, Ivar, not today, no' – dropping to the ground next to him, your hand grazing his cheek. As you see the state he's in – his left leg unnaturally bent at the knee with exposed bone; his stomach covered with blood – a shiver runs down your spine and you gasp, filled with horror. You want to cry, and scream, and shout but instead you inhale deeply, blinking several times before locking eyes with his bloodied ones. Your man needs you.

"I'm here, Ivar, I'm here." As you carefully place his head on your lap, his hand grabs your arm, squeezing it. His eyelids flutter as he tries to focus his gaze on you. Weakly raising his free hand, he fails to touch your face and something between a sob and a whine escapes his lips. Gently intertwining his fingers with yours, you can't help but repeat yourself. "I'm here, my love, I'm here."

A faint shake of his head and then he speaks, his voice hoarse and barely a whisper. "You... You should leave... Leave, Y/N.." He swallows painfully, and a sob chokes in your throat as you see blood running out of his mouth. You shake your head, not trusting your voice, but Ivar, your stubborn lover, keeps speaking, mustering all his strength. "Leave, my love, you're... not safe... here..." He then lets out a shuddering breath, loosening his grip on your arm.

Raising your head and looking around, you see that your fellow warriors are gone. Someone, Haakon probably – you always saw Ivar's second in command as a coward – must have sounded the retreat, now that their king is down. You don't have time to dwell on it though as you realize that the two of you are now surrounded by Saxon soldiers, their swords pointed at you. You coldly glare at them for a few brief seconds before meeting King Alfred's gaze. The Saxon commander seems shocked as he looks with wide open eyes at the man lying in front of you.

"Lower your weapons!" You barely hear Alfred's order, your mind taken with other thoughts, and you don't bother to see if his soldiers obey. The truth is, Alfred and his men are the least of your concerns right now. No matter what happens, no matter what they do, you're not going anywhere.

Once more, giving your undivided attention to your lover, you shake your head, speaking with conviction and determination. "I'm not leaving your side, my love."

Ivar frowns and winces. "I want you to... be safe..." He mutters with great effort, clearly in terrible pain. "It makes... no difference if... if you stay. I'm..." He squeezes his eyes shut, and you're suddenly aware of how pale he is, his hand on your arm now ice cold. He eventually speaks again, his breathing ragged and shallow. "I'm going to... die anyway. Y/N," his voice is choked, and your eyes are full of tears, "I'm...dying."

He's right. He's dying. There's no denying it. As heartbreaking as this thought may be, it is no less true. You've been in enough battles, seen enough fatal injuries to not delude yourself. With a wound that bad, there's no chance of survival. Absolutely none. You know it won't take long.

But it doesn't change a single thing. How could you leave him here, in this foreign land, surrounded by strangers – by enemies? How could you? You don't want to be safe, you want to be with him, as long as you can.

You may not be able to save him, but you can be there. You want to be there.

I will not lose you to a world that doesn't care

To the monsters that would have you.

Your hand cups his face as you swallow thickly, blinking back tears. "And I want to be here. I won't leave you alone." The pain in your heart is such that you can hardly speak. Taking the deepest breath you can, you then bite your inner cheek so hard that you can taste the blood in your mouth. "You're not alone, my love. You don't have to face this alone."

Ivar's eyes are closed, and for a moment, you're not sure he heard you. If you're being honest, you're not sure he's still there with you, even if he's still breathing.

But then, his eyelids flutter open, revealing glassy eyes. There's no more light in them; no more fight. "Not today..." He mumbles, despair clear in his voice. And suddenly his face crumples and his eyes are full of tears and you can almost physically feel the panic coursing through his battered body. When he speaks, sobbing very hard, it's to say what you never thought you'd hear him say, his voice as shaky as your hand on his face.

"I'm afraid."

It rips your heart out.

"I'm afraid."

It tears you to pieces.

"I'm afraid."

It destroys you.

You hiccup, a hand moving to cover your mouth. You want to take his pain away, you want to die and let him live. Your head is spinning, you're dying from the inside, you're not sure you can do it, but you have to. You know you have to.

So, gathering the courage you thought you didn't have, you nod. With tears rolling down your face, you swallow hard and say, "I won't tell anyone." Shaking with long, racking sobs, you try to smile. "No one will ever forget Ivar the Boneless. And I will never forget you, my love."

The fear in his haunted eyes almost unbearable, you can just soothe him, a reassuring hand on his cheek. Your tears join his, splashing on his face as you whisper again and again. "You're not alone, my love... I'm right here, next to you... You're not alone..." Sliding your arm under his head, you clumsily lie down next to him, curling your limbs around his body, cradling him.

Never surrender you, I always be there

I will be there to wrap myself around you.

And then, with a last gasp, your lover stops breathing.

And your whole world just shatters around you over and over and over...

Time loses all meaning.

You can't move.

Can't think.

Can't cry.

Can't feel.

He's gone.

And you realize you never had a chance to tell him...

He's gone.

Tagging: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @a-mess-of-fandoms @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @ivarthebloodyking @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @fuchsiagrasshopper

[bytheangell]

What Died Didn’t Stay Dead

(s02e20 inspired fic) (Read on AO3)

Everything’s fine. Everything’s great. Perfect, even. They won. They’re alive. They’re goddamn heroes.

Jace repeats those phrases over and over and over again. To Alec and Isabelle, to Clary, hell, even to himself. Everything is fine because it has to be fine. He has to be fine.

Except he isn’t.

Because when Jace died, he didn’t just fade away into nothingness: he went to Heaven. He died, and his soul went to Heaven, and he knows it was Heaven the way you know there’s air in your lungs and blood in your veins - it’s simply a part of you, a serenity and calm he’d never come close to imagining, suddenly his reality. Jace found himself existing in a state of pure bliss, as if every weight, every burden was lifted from him at once. He’d never felt so light, so free…

And then it all came crashing down and he woke back up on the dirty ground of Lake Lyn’s shoreline. And Clary… Clary was just so goddamn happy to see him alive, and Alec and Izzy’s relief was practically palpable, so he couldn’t tell them. He still can’t. And he knows he shouldn’t be upset with Clary but he can’t help it, because he knows what he was pulled back from and now everything feels wrong, and he’s afraid that he’ll never feel whole again.

He doesn’t know what’s wrong specifically, just that something is wrong. He can feel it in his soul, in the very blood that runs through his veins. But what is he supposed to tell Clary when she asks? ‘Hey, thanks for saving my life, but I think I came back broken?’ And that isn’t even the worst of it. He tries not to think about it, about the real reason he might be feeling this disconnect, but it isn’t exactly something he can forget. If he’s really being honest, with himself and with Clary, what he should say is ‘Thanks for saving me, but all you did was tear me away from the only peace I’ve ever known.’

Over and over in his nightmares, he feels that peace ripped away from him and he’s forced to relive the loss of it. And when it isn’t that, he sees Clary held in place and about to be executed by Circle members, or he sees the face of his father as he plunged his blade into Jace’s chest, complete with the sharp, burning pain of the fatal wound.

Because it was fatal. He died. For however long it took for Clary to kill Valentine and make her own wish, his heart had stopped and his soul had left his body. Alec felt the pain of it, he saw the proof of what really happened when their rune faded from his side as the connection severed. Alec knows, but Jace avoids talking about it because he can’t tell him the truth, not now, not ever.

“Maybe my heart stopped for a second, or my body went into shock. I dunno, I’m not a doctor,” Jace tries to reason the vanishing rune away with bullshit excuses that Alec doesn’t buy, but his parabatai does drop the topic after a while.

But not Clary. Clary just won’t let it go.

On some level, Jace is aware that it’s not right to force Clary to keep the wish a secret. He tells her that it’s for her own good, and that isn’t a lie because if the Clave ever found out then he didn’t want to think about what they might do to her for using the wish, and what they might do to him as someone unnaturally brought back from the dead. He’s trying to protect her, but he’s trying to protect himself just as much, and that’s the part he doesn’t share with her. Because he can’t talk about it, or else he’ll eventually have to talk about what really happened when he died.

Except all Clary wants to do is talk about it with him, because he’s the only one she can talk to since he forbade her from telling anyone else, even Alec and Izzy. Every time he leaves a room suddenly to hide the physical discomfort and sometimes pain he feels just from existing again, every night he wakes up crying out in his sleep after tossing and turning, Clary tries to get him to open up. When he grows distant and detached Clary only gets more insistent, until one day he snaps.

“WHY WON’T YOU JUST FUCKING DROP IT?”

Clary looks started for a second but recovers quickly. “Because there’s something you’re not telling me! We’re the only people who know what happened, which means if something’s wrong, I’m the only one who can help you! So let me help you, Jace!”

“You can’t help me, Clary! You’re the reason I feel like this!”

The second the words leave his lips Jace wants nothing more than to take them back. Hurt flashes across Clary’s face, mixing with the confusion from before.

“What do you mean? Did I… did I do something wrong?”

The quiet words Jace whispers next stand in stark contrast to his previous shouts.

“You brought me back.” Jace wishes it were that simple and he could just leave it at that. But he’s opened the floodgates now and there’s no stopping this conversation. A part of him doesn’t want to stop, either, eager to finally get everything out from where it’s been festering inside of him, poorly buried under lies and distractions. “I was happy. I felt… complete. Like I’d done everything I was meant to do, and this peace was my reward. I was in Heaven, Clary. And then I was back here.”

Clary doesn’t speak for a very long time.

“I just wanted to save you,” she says quietly.

“I know,” Jace says, but the words come out bitter and far from understanding. “And you used a wish meant to benefit all of humanity to do it - to save me from a place I didn’t want to be saved from.”

Jace can practically see his words sinking in as the expression on Clary’s face morphs from hurt to muted horror. When she doesn’t reply Jace just keeps talking, the words tumbling out with nothing left to stop them.

“We’re Nephilim. We’re meant to die in battle, it’s what we do! Sometimes I forget how far removed you are from everything we stand for… how obvious it is you weren’t raised a Shadowhunter. Because you don’t feel guilty for what you did at all, do you?”

This time Clary only shies away from the accusation for a moment before doubling down and growing defensive. “Of course not! I love you, Jace! I had a chance to bring you back and I took it. Maybe Nephilim are used to dying in battle, but that wasn’t a battle. That wasn’t some greater cause to martyr yourself for, and you didn’t deserve to die like that!” Clary’s voice shakes a little but she remains resolved, and under any other circumstance, it’d be that typical Clary Fray stubbornness that Jace usually finds endearing. Now, it only serves to push him that last step off the ledge of frustration he’s been building up since that night.

“Maybe I did! Maybe that was my cause, my purpose, did you ever think about that? I sure as hell don’t deserve to be alive at the cost of The Angel’s wish, and now I’m the only one living with that guilt because all you care about is yourself and that you got what you wanted!”

“I care about you!” Clary shoots back. “I’m… Jace, I’m so sorry. If I’d known, known where you went… I didn’t think-”

“You never do,” Jace says, shaking his head. “That’s the problem.”

The charged emotions shift to something softer, something decidedly more sad than angry.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out like that. I didn’t tell you because I know your heart was in the right place. I just thought I could hide it better - or longer, until it didn’t feel so…” he trails off, not wanting to put words to that numb sense of longing he feels inside. The wrongness of it all. He knows Clary feels bad enough already without all of that, too, if she hasn’t pieced it together already. 

“How do I fix this?” Clary asks. “Just tell me what to do. Because you’re right - I saved you because I didn’t want to lose you, and I still don’t. I can’t lose you now, not like this. So tell me how to fix this.” Clary pauses, the hands previously on her hips dropping to her side in defeat as tears well up in her eyes before spilling over with every blink to trail down her cheeks. “Tell me how to fix us.”

“I don’t think you can,” he admits, swallowing the lump in his throat that threatens to stop the words entirely. He doesn’t cry, though. “I think I just need some time.”

Clary opens her mouth to immediately protest. Jace watches her slowly force it closed again, hands clenching into fists at her side as she takes a deep breath before speaking. “Alright. Whatever you need.”

He can tell she only half-means it, that it’s the last thing she actually wants to do, but the fact that she’s willing to do it anyway is a good sign that she can see how serious he is.

“You really never planned on telling me, did you?” Clary frowns.

“No,” Jace admits since they’re well past the point of lying to spare feelings now. “Because I knew you’d feel bad and want to try and fix it.”

“Of course I want to fix it!”

“But you can’t. There’s no undoing this, I just have to take some time to figure out how to live with it.”

“Okay. Okay, fine. But promise me,” Clary says, reaching out to take his hands in her own. “Promise me you aren’t going to keep me out forever. Promise me if there’s anything I can do, even if it’s just to be there with you, you’ll tell me.” She gives his hands a squeeze, the tears returning to her eyes. “Promise me you’ll be okay at the end of all this.”

Jace nods. He wants, more than anything, to believe in a future where he adjusts and settles back into the life he’s always known, with no unsettling feeling that something is wrong, with the belief that he was always meant to be here still. He wants to believe in a perfect future with Clary by his side, raising kids they put through the Academy and teach everything they know. He wants to believe that there’s an ‘okay’ at the end of this for him - for both of them - even if he can’t imagine it now.

It feels like an impossible promise to make at the moment, but he makes it anyway because he thinks it’s one they both need to believe in.

“I promise.”

He hopes more than anything that it’s a promise he can keep.

[stellarcat52]

Timeless blue chapter 11

Archie flew ahead as Douxie and Krel hurried behind him. The shattering of glass quickly notified them of where Arthur and Morgana had just jumped out of the window, and where Nari had been frozen solid in a block of ice.

With a quick spell Douxie frees their friend. “Oh, thank you. The order shall surely rip your soul to pieces for this.”

“We’ll work on your pep talks later. I don’t think my little trap was going to last-“ Archie flies in as Douxie speaks.

“The arcane order is back, we’re out of time Douxie.”

“Alright, let’s get Nari back to the others. She’s safer with all of us.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure the order doesn’t”

as if summoned by their name Bellroc and Skrael make their presence known, “Nari!”

“Find you. Go!” Douxie casts his arms back, pushing his friends away from him and their enemies. “Keep running, don’t look back!”

Without the head start the others had, Douxie fell behind the order. His infinite corridor suddenly replaces him as the only thing between them and Nari.

“An infinite corridor eh? Beginners magic. This cannot hold us!”

Douxie let’s a sphere of fire fly past him and into the door that would transport it to behind Skrael. “Buttsnacks!”

“You will die for this!”

Douxie summons his staff, “That was kinda the plan. But it’s worth it, because it means my friends, Krel,” his voice softens as he realizes this is what Krel had feared. Their separation, someone getting hurt, “and Nari can get away!” He finds his courage, saving the world or saving his friends wasn’t a choice he could make. He could make the choice between saving the world and saving himself, although he forced the pain of leaving Krel behind into his stomach.

———

Krel looks behind him immediately after he hears Douxie being pushed down, seeing the infinite corridor go up, even without knowledge of what it is. That barrier would trap Douxie in with two beings more powerful than Krel knew.

“Krel! Douxie will be fine!” Archie had seen more of Douxie’s battles than Krel had, and yet he had to force himself to trust the small dragon.

Even as spells sound from behind them, Nari, Archie, and Krel only spare a few glances back, none of them pausing for more than a moment to try and listen for Douxie’s voice. When they finally got to a place where Archie could safely fly Nari down, Douxie and the Order’s battle is naught but echoes.

Archie glides down and Krel takes inspiration from Morgana in the past to try and levitate himself down. He still falls a great distance, but the Akiridion body is not as fragile as a human one.

Jim and Claire were having a face off, Toby and Steve were off to the side. Krel had never seen such bright human eyes before now, Claire had unnaturally purple eyes that flowed with her own magic.

Krel glances down to where his arms have these magical traces inside, each one glowing and fading as they’re needed or dormant.

As Claire unleashes a great beam of dark magic, Jim falters and gives the whole team hope. This side of him was a result of the order’s magic, if Claire could overpower it and save Jim, surely Douxie, and Morgana, could do the same.

Behind them, Krel saw the gold of Morgana’s magic against Arthur.

“The world isn’t ours anymore, you have failed to destroy it, and I have failed to save it.” The fight between Claire and Jim seemed to fade to background noise, Krel could almost entirely forget about it. “Perhaps they can fare better!” She unleashes another attack. “You are no longer worthy of wielding Excalibur! Magda mani achtenebris kraga doom!” The explosion caused by her spell inturrupted Claire’s concentration and cast Excalibur aside. Just as all seemed to be doing better it was made clear that Excalibur is not what kept Jim tied to the green knight.

“Please Jim, I love you!” Claire’s choking cry almost made Krel jump in to help. “We all do.”

Jim drops Claire after what seemed to be a moment of thought.

———

Douxie was struggling against the order, but he was holding his ground better than he ever thought he could against such powerful legendary creatures. The Order were gloating of his defeat even though the wizard still stood, out of breath albeit. As the order finishes, speaking of a summoning that will happen once they are through with him, Douxie mustered up a final spell.

“Tenebrius...” he started, a blue magic circle being danced to life in each hand and then on the surface on which he stood, “exellium!”

His and the order’s unspoken magic meets, both sides struggling against each other.

Between the magic circle holding his spell together and the mystic glow in his eyes Douxie struggled to see clearly.

“Goodbye, my friends, goodbye Krel.”

He lost the magic keeping him alive and safe from the Order’s attacks. He only hoped what last burst of strength he had given would keep the order away from the other’s far below.

———

Krel watched as Camelot fell, how Claire and Jim got their happy ending. He finally thought things were going up, but as soon as the Order’s lair explodes, and he sees Douxie’s limp body falling through the air, he thinks it foolish for those thoughts to exist.

He was the first to start running. He didn’t bother risking using a portal, Douxie was right about him being untrained.

He still was out of sight of Douxie’s body when he hears that sickening thud.

Claire and Archie had made it there faster. Arch had an ear to Douxie’s chest and with every breath that Douxie must not be breathing his feline features only seem to grow more grim. Krel takes a few moments to get the guts to join the others around him.

He looked down and wished that somehow he could give his core to the human he loved.

Douxie’s body seemed too cold for someone who had only been dead for a few minutes at most. Krel sat down on his knees and pulled Douxie’s head onto his lap. He just stared at him for a minute, tears blurring his vision and too scared to blink them away in case Douxie vanished. He hung his head down, only taking a moment to wipe each of his eyes individually.

“Krel?” Archie caused him to look up, just for a second.

“Why did he have to face them alone?” Krel choked. “I was right there, I could have gone back.”

“That’s just the way Douxie is.” Claire answered, Krel only now noticed she was holding onto one of Douxie’s hands.

Zoe spoke up as she came over to kneel beside them. “Hisirdoux never really learned how to accept help. Not from anyone beside Archie. He always had to them himself, stupid apprentice.”

“Wait!” Archie shouted, pressing an ear to Douxie’s chest again. “His heart!”

Krel could feel the tensing of Douxie’s back muscles as he loses the stiff relaxation of death. His skin grew to a temperature that wasn’t as frightening, but still cold.

It was if Douxie had a second chance, like what a core would have given an Akiridion. Maybe this is something magic could do to humans.

The moment Douxie opened his eyes, Krel stopped caring how. He couldn’t even find the words to say.

“Douxie.” Archie purring into Douxie’s chest. “You brave, foolish boy.”

“Ow!” He yelped as Douxie helped him sit up, shifting to be besides him. “Ow! Everything hurts!”

“Sorry.” Krel mumbled as Douxie looks over at him and grins.

Claire took his attention back for a second. “I can’t believe you’re okay!”

“Barely, seems you’re the one with mine lives!” Douxie let’s Archie rub his head against his cheek. “Don’t you ever do something like that’s again.”

Krel pulls Douxie to his feet, holding him up with his arms. “You scared me you idiot.”

Douxie nearly falls and clutches his chest. “Hey! I just came back from beyond the grave! Be careful.”

“Sorry.” Krel turns his head and kisses Douxie’s cheek. “I’ll protect you next time.”

“I feel like I missed a lot.” Jim spoke up, eyes widening as Claire ran up to hug him, still very happy to just see Jim as a human again.

“Same, but I think we can catch up over brunch.” He looked around again, Krel could see the worry in his eyes. “What about Arthur and Morgana?”

“Squished.” AAARRRGGGHHH looked towards where Excalibur lay imbedded in the stone.”

Of course Toby immediately tried pulling the legendary sword out of the rock it had cut into. To no avail, but he tried nonetheless. Blinky, Douxie, and Claire all urged Jim to try, but his efforts were fruitless as well. Excalibur stayed rooted, and as the group leaves it behind, Jim leaves behind his hope that he may still be a trollhunter, though that might not be the worst thing right now.

———

Zoe and Nari got ready to leave, New York would be gaining two magical beings within a few weeks, and Akiridion 5 would be gaining at least one new human citizen. Claire and Jim were still on the fence of whether or not they wanted to stay or just visit Eli and Aja. Either way after this they knew they wanted to stay together.

Krel and Douxie had told the group they were dating, and Krel got a surprising amount of threats from the almost everyone. AAARRRGGGHHH being an exception but also Jim, Nari, and Toby.

Krel knew that Douxie would get some as soon as Aja and Varvatos were told the news, and Eli would be ready to ask Douxie so many questions about magic that he’d go crazy. Still, nothing could make these two want to risk staying on earth with the Genesis seals one more day, so alongside with Toby, Jim, and Claire, they step into the portal to Akiridion 5 and are whisked across the universe, traveling past planets and stars in mere seconds.

The earth would be safe unless something changed, and although they knew something would, Krel and Douxie were willing to put that to the back of their minds for as long as they can. They are happy, safe, and together.

And as long as Nari is out of the order’s hands, that’s all they care about.

[starswornoaths]

Prompt 27: Clarity

*rolls in two months late without starbucks*

Hi, have a bit of combat, understandings, apologies, and some purple-dark prose, as Serella and Aymeric reconcile following the investigation into her actions as a Dark Knight.

cw: combat against scalekin, some angst, but a happy ending

word count: 2,360

A part of negotiations between Dravania and Ishgard involved their continued collaboration, in both peace talks, as well as pushing back the last vestiges of Nidhogg’s enraged brood. The latter, however, happened with dwindling occurrence as time went on. Dwindling, but not entirely ceased, at least for now.

So when Aevis descended on what should have been a diplomatic meeting between Vidofnir speaking on her father’s authority, the Lord Speaker of Ishgard speaking on authority of his city, it was only meet that he raised his blade in her defense. It bode well that his beloved had accompanied him for this conference.

“Warrior of Light, are you with me?” Aymeric asked her as he readied his sword.

When he turned to Serella, he could not bite back a proud smile at the sight of her already having her blade drawn and shield high.

“As ever. Vidofnir, go!” She barked over her shoulder.

“I would not leave thee to struggle without aid—” Vidofnir widened her stance, wings flared out in warning to the encroaching aevis who snapped and snarled as they krept nearer.

“Then help us by protecting your little ones.” Serella insisted. “We’ll be fine. Go!”

Neither of them turned to the dragon again, but the gust that swept their coats against their legs told of her retreat. With a nod between Knight and Paladin, they braced for battle. When one of the aevis attempted to break ranks and give chase, Aymeric sprinted to meet it instead, Naegling carving through its neck. The blue of the blade was almost entirely stained with crimson when he ripped it out of the wound it had made. The scalekin reeled back with a gurgling howl, thrashing even as it fell, dying.

Chaos erupted. Driven all the more mad for the blood freshly spilled, the remaining flock of aevis, five in total, launched themselves in a frenzy. 

Two bore down on him, charging together. Though Aymeric managed to leap to the side and knock one of them back into a second, a third closed in behind him, teeth bared in preparation to taste his flesh.

The air pressure around him changed suddenly enough that his ears popped. The temperature rose with a flash of brilliant gold light. When that light spread beneath him, he leapt back in time to avoid the blazing aetherial blade that shot up from the ground, tall as a pillar, and speared the aevis that would have claimed his life. The impact of the blow sent the scalekin skyward, and it landed with such a force that the ground beneath them quaked. The Confiteor spell took the second aevis by surprise, and Aymeric closed in to capitalize on the opportunity, piercing its skull with a downward stab of his blade.

A sharp cry of pain rang out from behind him— he whirred around in time to see Serella be flung several yalms away, her shield clattering to the ground where she had been struck. One of the remaining aevis must have recovered and took the opening she had made in saving him. As it closed in on her, it limped— the trail of blood it left in its wake confirmed she had at least managed to maim it before she was blown back.

Heart in his throat and blood roaring in his ears, Aymeric turned to sprint toward where she lay crumpled upon the crag. If he could at least get her shield to her, keep them off of her long enough to recover—  

He barely caught an aevis by its gnashing teeth before they closed in on his shoulder, Naegling forcibly wedged within its jaw kept the scalekin at bay, but the impact forced him to the ground. With the weight of the beast bearing down on him and his arms burning from the effort of keeping those jaws from closing in, Aymeric grit his teeth and fought to free himself. Though he saw the last of the aevis lumbering toward him, he focused more on getting free of the one pinning him down; if he could get to Serella, then that was all that mattered, he had to get to her before they did—

A shadow passed over him. A chill rippled along the length of his spine. The noise of crackling aether and the scent of ozone and salted earth. Where the Confiteor spell that Serella had shot off had felt like the oxygen in the area momentarily leaving, this felt like the air had grown dense. It reminded Aymeric of how the air felt with an encroaching storm, heavy, still, and thick with anticipation of rain or snow. Familiar and quiet and calming.

The aevis that had been gnashing against his blade was forcibly knocked away from him. Hauling himself to his feet, he anticipated blocking the second aevis that had been approaching, shocked to see it was being successfully held off by what he could only describe as a shadow clad in armor, wielding a claymore. The darkness flowed and bent in a familiar dance; even if the motions were nothing like when she wielded a sword and shield and its stance was completely different, even just looking at the shadow made Aymeric think: that is Serella. The swings of its darkened blade were precise but weighty, each impact bursting with purple and ebon aether that rippled and warped around and through the aevis it struck. Though Aymeric only looked on for the span of a breath, it felt like time had slowed, even as he had turned to face the aevis that had been thrown off of him.

Before he could even get line of sight on the beast, the ground quaked again. Time seemed to catch up to him in a rush with the impact of something mighty crashing to the earth, and his eyes settled on the scene. Pinning it to the ground as it squirmed in a frenzy was a familiar blade— long, smoky steel with glinting blue adornments, he recognized it instantly: Dainslaif. Serella loomed over the scalekin, her armor dark with blood and shadows. He could not see her face with her back to him as it was, but something about the way she casually reached for the blade’s handle and ripped it across the aevis’ neck to cleanly decapitate the dying aevis came across as cold.

A feeling that crept into the silence that reigned in the aftermath of the fight. She stayed still, in that position, greatsword still firmly in her grasp, her back to him. Though the wind blew her hair and the coat of her armor, she was otherwise eerily still. In his periphery, Aymeric could see that figure cloaked in shadow turn to face her, almost expectantly, as if waiting for her to command it. 

Then, it began to move toward her, steps languid but hushed. Familiar. Heart flying into his throat again, Aymeric moved to run those scant fulms to her, when its gaze was turned to him. There was something about it— something intrinsically her about the shade that froze him to the spot. Her blue iris was reflected in those eyes, the exact same shade that he so adored losing himself in.

The reminder that this is her, too, was enough to inspire him to move again, curious but unafraid. And the shadow watched him, as he drew closer to where she stood. Watched, until Serella swayed in place. In an instant, both he and the shadow snapped their focus to her. With unnatural speed, the shadow reached her first, but that did not stop his advance; nothing else mattered but ensuring she was all right.

“Ella…?”

His voice was barely above a whisper, hand tentatively reaching out to close the distance. When the space between them was down to scant ilms, her aether crackled again, a riot of violet and red rippling along her armor. At her flinch, Aymeric and the shadow both retracted their hands as if the kaleidoscope of luminosity inside her threatened to burn them. 

“I’m fine.” She lied to them both.

“Fine with that cracked rib of yours?” The shadow scoffed.

When Aymeric reached out to stabilize her, it spoke again, sharply: “Have you not done enough?”

“Stop, Esteem.” Serella cut her shadow off swiftly, tone brooking no arguement. “He’s done nothing wrong, and we both know it. I’m fine.”

"Oh, so you're fine with being put last? Again?" The shadow— Esteem? — snorted. "By him?" 

There was very little that could make him physically recoil as though he were a wretched and awful thing, but the thought that he had done irreparable harm to her was enough to inspire that distance, that hesitation.

The tension left her shoulders, slumped as if in defeat. She did not respond— which, he supposed, was a response all its own. He felt ill.

“Shadow, fall behind me.” Serella beckoned in a tired voice.

The shadow paused to look at him again. Though the feeling of something not-quite-there scrutinizing him was unnerving, he stood his ground and did not look away. It was a part of her. He had naught to fear from it, he saw that now. Something seemed to satisfy the armor clad darkness, or at least placate it, as it turned and knelt before Serella, sword stuck into the ground as a knight kneels before its queen. That crackling aether remained, but calmed into something more akin to gentle ocean waves idly lapping at their shores, bridging the distance between Serella and her shadow as it melted into the earth. As it sunk lower, lower, into the earth, until the pool of inky darkness stretched toward her feet and clung to her heels, giving her back the shadow she had cast away to save him.

This was what he had been raised to fear and hate? This was the villainy of darkness and sin that he had been taught made a Dark Knight? This protective shade, this Guardian in the dark, of the dark, was what should be expunged from Ishgard? This was the face of all the evils in the night? Impossible.

It was beautiful.

“Sorry.” She said quietly, and swayed all the more as she turned to face him.

Her eyes were blue.

“What on earth do you have to be sorry for?”

“Didn’t want you see this.” She mumbled, gesturing weakly at herself. “Never wanted you to see it. But I’d rather you live and hate me tha—”

When she tried to turn her body away as she spoke, her words died off with a yelp of pain. She staggered and clutched at the side that she had landed on when thrown. Before he had even realized he had moved, Aymeric had caught her as she stumbled, and eased them both to the ground when her knees buckled. 

“Shh, shh, I have you,” He cooed in her ear as he knelt into the earth and did what he could to keep the pressure off of her injured side.

“Never wanted you to see—” Serella hissed through her teeth, hands fumbling to press flat against her ribs. 

He could not see her face with her head bent as it was. As she began to weave starlight around her injury, she let out a pained whimper at a worrying pop from under her platemail. Shifting to let her rest her weight primarily against his chest and ease her weight off of her healing side entirely, he lifted a hand to smooth her hair down and press a kiss to her scalp.

“See what? That I had naught to fear but mine own prejudice?” He held her face with the hand that had brushed her hair away and used it to guide her into looking at him gently once her healing magic had tapered off. Despite the situation, he huffed a laugh. “A lesson you have had to teach me twice now. Would that it had taken less than this for me to see. I am so sorry.”

“I didn’t want you to see.” Serella said with a laugh, eyes filled with tears. She was smiling, in that relieved and unreserved way that crinkled the corners of her eyes and caused her tears to flow. “I was sure you would hate me—”

“I can hate you no more than I can hate breathing.” He whispered fiercely, and pressed their foreheads together. “Your shadow— Esteem, was it? — Also had no qualms taking me to task for how I have failed you.”

“You—”

Didn’t, Aymeric taster her denial on her tongue when he crushed his mouth to hers.

“In my desperation to keep my promise to you, I fear I have done exactly that, in leaving you to think that I hold you beneath anything— anything, on this star or any other.”

“But we promised to put everything else ahead of us!” Serella wept, even as she kept smiling.

“In duty, aye— and we have. And we will.” Aymeric brushed her hair back when the wind swept it in her face again. Even as her eyes were still too bright, still blue, he refused to look away. “That does not mean that I love anyone or anything more than you— I can’t even fathom doing so.” With another kiss to her forehead, he hugged her closer. “I’m so, so sorry I ever left you to doubt that— and worse, did so because I lacked the words for what I felt.”

Serella closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if letting his words seep into her soul. When she opened them again, they were mismatched. He smiled around a sigh of relief.

“There is my world.” He whispered against her lips in a kiss. “My heart.” He moved to her nose to kiss the tip. “My everything.” He kissed her forehead before he all but crushed her close.

Vidofnir flew back to their side with her little hatchlings in tow once the winds had calmed, and found them just like that, with Aymeric holding close his Warrior of Light and Darkness both, as Serella used healing magic to attempt to ease the discomfort. Content that the threat had passed, she laid herself close and shielded them under her wing. The little dragonlings, all chirping and cooing and worried, settling around their shoulders, in Serella’s lap, looped around Aymeric’s wyrm torque, rumbling in a way they hoped would help, protecting their protectors, as their ancestors had before them.

Adrift in the Sea of Clouds, the bridges between man and dragon, and Lord Commander and Warrior of Light, continued to mend.

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story! Pt 5- Fantasy World

Here is the next part! Starting out in a new world! 

I made a master post with chapter links! - linked here

Enjoy!

_________________________

It was the emptiness between worlds. 

I hung there, formless, empty, in total darkness as a slow sense of confusion washed over me. From what I could remember transfers between worlds had always been rapid. The longest I had ever spent in this nothingness had been a few seconds. But as seconds turned to minutes, and confusion grew into panic, I finally called out, surprised I could hear my own voice.

“Am I done?” Had this task of transferring between story worlds finally finished? Would I get my memories back? Go home?

There was a flash of joy at the thought, followed by an uneasy feeling as I thought about the person who had followed me the last two worlds.

Liam. Is he really waiting for me in the next one?

Before I could examine my thoughts or feelings too closely, however, words formed in the space in front of me, the bright blue letters glowing in the surrounding darkness.

Have you learned to accept you fate?

“Accept my fate?” I shook my head. “You mean that I’m destined to travel between worlds being useless and bitter side characters?”

You can go home. You can have everything back.

“Wait… I can?”

All you have to do is accept the destiny given to you.

What does that mean?!!I wanted to know who I was, I wanted to end this constant world hopping. But even as I prepared to accept, a severe stabbing pain filled my head. Something had been forgotten, something desperately important, but the harder I tried to catch it the further it fled. As I struggled I felt something deep within my soul rise up, and a single word was shouted instead of the agreement I had initially meant to give.

“NEVER!” It came out a snarl, filled with bitterness and rage, and overwhelming hatred and anger flooded my senses.

I couldn’t give up.

I WOULD NEVER give up.

Even if I wasn’t sure what that meant.

Very well. It was just silent text, but I could sense the disappointment behind them.

Then continue.

Before I could respond, the words faded, and I was in a new world.

_________________________

“Help me!” A young voice filled with fear called out.

I opened my eyes, blinking in the bright sunlight, taking in the world around me.

Trees. Massive trees, in every direction I could see. A thin film of sunlight passed through the thick canopy of leaves, illuminating the ground covered in flowers. Butterflies of every color flittered around me, moving frantically from bloom to bloom. A dense smell of grass mixed with a sweet aroma of the flowers around me filled the air. It was a paradise.

“HELP!” Hearing the voice call out again, I leapt to my feet, feeling oddly unbalanced.

Why do I feel so… small? Looking down at my hands, I saw that they were much smaller than any of my previous bodies, with chubby, childish fingers. My legs were short, the small toes of my bare feet buried in the grass in flowers. I wore a simple green smock that came to my knees, the dress hanging straight down over a flat chest.

I was a child.

Well… this is new.Before I could truly process the new body, I heard another scream of fear and ran towards it, trying to cope to the much shorter leg length than what I had previously taken for granted in the zombie world. As I passed between two large tree trunks, I skidded to a stop, gaping at the sight in front of me.

There was an elven child under attack.

He was about the same size as me, with pale skin, delicate features, and long pointed ears that poked through golden hair. A pair of bright green eyes, filled with tears and fear stared up at me. His small arms and legs flailed wildly trying to strike at the dark monster that pushed him to the ground.

I grabbed a branch on the ground, stumbling a bit from the weight and my lack of strength, and dragged it over.  Screaming out, I swung the branch at the creature attacking the boy, knocking him several feet away.

The shadowy monster landed on its feet, turning towards me with a loud snarl. It had the vague form of a large wolf, but its entire being was made of darkness, the edges of its body blurred, as if it were something unnatural pushing against the edges of reality. From in between its black pointed fangs, a dark liquid dropped, burning the grass it touched. The only color that could be seen were its eyes, that were a startling shade of dark blue.

“Get behind me.” I snapped at the child, brandishing my makeshift weapon again.

He stared up at me silently, his eyes confused, his body frozen in place.

“Or you can just lay there and let the monster eat you. That works too I guess.”  I felt sorry for the kid, but it wasn’t like I had time to coddle him.

At my sarcastic words he seemed to shake himself, rolling to his feet and stumbling behind me, just as the shadow creature pounced.

SMACK! The branch connected solidly with the creature’s head, the wood sinking into the shadow for the briefest moment before the monster was thrown back into a tree.

It growled softly, getting back to its feet. A slow trickle of blue blood ran from the wound, floating in the air and dissipating into nothingness.

“Bad shadow wolf! Go back to your home!” I held up the stick again, groaning. “Where’s a spray bottle when you need it?”

Before I could bemoan my lack of canine training tools, the creature lifted its head, seeming to hear some silent call. It pointed its jaws to the sky letting out an eerie howl, before leaping into the air and disappearing, leaving only the wreckage and dead plants as evidence that it had ever been there.

I sighed with relief, turning to the child behind me. “Are you okay?”

“You… you drove it off!” His eyes were wide with shock. “You saved me!”

“No big deal…”

“It was so scary.” He clenched his fists. “I was too weak. I couldn’t do anything.”

“Um… I wouldn’t really worry about…” Sensing a character development monologue coming, I desperately tried to interrupt.

He picked up a branch swinging it in the air with a fierce expression. “I swear on the graves of my parents, I will become stronger, someone who can defend the weak!” Looking over at me, he added. “You won’t have to worry anymore, I’ll protect you.”

“Weak? Seriously did you not just see me beat it up…”

“After all, I owe you my life.” He reached over and grabbed my hand enthusiastically. “So I’ll stay by your side until my debt is repaid.”

Uh oh. Adorable elf boy, dead parents, attacked by monsters and vows to grow stronger?  My male lead senses are tingling. Better get away.

I smiled blandly, pulling my hand out of his grasp. “I was saving my own skin. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do!” He put his hand to his heart and bowed. “I am K’lliean.”

There was an awkward silence.

Crap! I haven’t gotten the mission or the character’s memories yet. Well last time they let me rename my character… here’s hoping.

“My name is Blaire.”

“Belaire?”

Bright blue words formed in the air beside me.

You have chosen to select the character name “Belaire” All characters’ memories will be adjusted accordingly.

**** Confirm character name? ****

Slightly off… but … “Sure.”

Character name confirmed.

I stayed calm, even with the scrolling text in the sky that only I could see. This had happened before, in story worlds where a cellphones didn’t exist. The text simply appeared on the sky, responding to voice instead of typing.

Now that K’lliean’s memories had been properly adjusted, he had backed away, a look of disgust on his face.

“Stay away from me, you… you…” He glared at me. “Stupid girl!”

“How will I ever recover from that insult?” I held a hand up to my head. “But sure, I’m fine staying far away from you.” Always safer to not hang around the male lead type too much.

“I’m NEVER going to marry you, so don’t even think about it.”

“…” I shrugged. “Ok.” I’m already hating this plot, and I don’t even know it yet.

“I’m going to be a great warrior one day! I’m not some HELPER for a stupid priestess!”

“No one’s arguing with you, dude. Go live your life.”

K’llean stared at me for a few moments, and then looked away suddenly. “I mean… if you REALLY want to marry me, I’ll let you stay by my side.”

“Literally never asked for that.”

“But don’t forget that I don’t like you! I’m only marrying you to help save the forest.”

What in the world is this plot?!!!

I rubbed my forehead, a headache forming. “Don’t worry about it, kid. I’m sure there are other alternatives besides matrimony to save the forest. I’ll figure it out.”

“SHUT UP!” K’llean stomped his foot. “I’ll save this forest, and I won’t need the help from a stupid girl like you!” With that he ran off, leaving me behind to stare at his back in shock.

“Knew the trend of reasonable male leads wouldn’t last.” With a chuckle, I sat down with my back against an enormous tree trunk and spoke to the air around me. “Open mission.”

Words began forming in the air in front of me.

**** NEW WORLD: THE CHOSEN ONE ****

This world is an incomplete epic fantasy novel, centering on the heroine Stella. Stella was an average 21-year-old college student, until she was transported into a world of fantasy, swords and magic. Learning that her arrival was predicted by prophecy, and that she is the Chosen One who must save the world, she harnesses her newfound magical abilities and goes on a epic quest to defeat the Lord of Darkness.

“So far so good. Maybe she’ll be a fun heroine like last time…”

During her journey, Stella falls in love with a elven warrior named K’llean.

“CALLED IT! He’s totally the male lead!” I high fived myself, and then felt embarrassed at the lonely gesture.

K’llean returned her feelings, however, he was already married to the elven priestess, who was tasked with saving the forest by combining their light magic abilities. The high priestess, hurt by K’llean’s betrayal, initially tried to send away Stella, but instead, in a terrible battle against the dark forces, chose to sacrifice herself to save the Chosen One’s life.

“I have a bad feeling about that priestess character.”

This story was discontinued after the author quit the story, fed up with complaints from the readers. There was a huge backlash at the story’s treatment of the elven priestess, a fan favorite character. Additionally, very few readers supported the romance subplot between Stella and K’llean, given that it began in earnest while K’llean was still married. There was general complaint that Stella and K’llean never received any consequence for their betrayal of the loyal priestess, and that her death was simply to pave the way for the “Chosen One.”  The story world was abandoned and left to be destroyed.

The author’s main regret is the sad fate of the elven priestess. To complete their wish and stabilize this world, please allow the elven priestess to live a long, happy life. For this mission to succeed, the world must still be saved from the Lord of Darkness without sacrificing the life of the priestess.

**** DO YOU ACCEPT THIS MISSION?****

“…” I stared at the words thoughtfully. “So I just have to find this priestess and make sure she doesn’t get married to the cheating idiot and lives happily without sacrificing her life for them?” My eyes narrowed. “I feel like there’s gotta be a catch. What if I say ‘no’?”

**** DO YOU ACCEPT THIS MISSION?****

The words appeared again. I wasn’t surprised. There was only ever one option.

“Yes.”

My brain was filled with a flood of information, foreign knowledge, memories and emotions belonging to my character. I closed my eyes, groaning with pain, my fist hitting the ground beside me over and over until the skin split, my blood staining the leaves and grass.

“Well… this sucks.” I knew there was going to be a catch, but when I figured it out, all I could do was smile bitterly at my new identity.I should have guessed.

I was the elven priestess.

_________________________

I leaned my head against the tree trunk, sorting through the new information, the rough bark digging into my scalp. A slow trickle of tears overflowed from my closed eyes, as I fought back the emotions that weren’t my own.

The priestess had truly loved K’llean.

She had known from an early age that she was to be a priestess. Her strong light magic, tested from birth, left her with no choice but to serve her people. Part of that role required her to marry an elf with strong magic, combining their powers to allow the forest to be protected. K’llean was one of many young elves that had been approved as a potential partner.

They met in a similar way that I had just experienced, with her saving his life from a shadow beast. From that moment on, they had spent every waking moment together, growing up side by side. And on the night of her adult ceremony at the age of eighteen, she had chosen him without hesitation.

I could feel her memories, of K’llean watching her with a loving gaze.

“I’ll stand by your side, even if no one else does. Forever.”

She had believed him, whole heartedly.

But he was the male lead, so his love, his true love, was only ever given to the heroine.

The Chosen One.

This world was made for her, for her happiness.

How could one priestess stand against it? 

When she found them together… she tried to protest, tried to remind him of the love they had shared. But in the end, Stella had everything. Her people’s trust. Her husband’s love. Even her mission, to save the forest, the one she had trained her whole life to fulfill, had been handed over so easily.

She had nothing.

When she burned through her life force in the battle against the darkness, fueling a magic powerful enough to drive to out the dark creatures and purify the forest, she had felt nothing but a weary resignation.

She had fulfilled her task, protected her people.

But she had not left happily.

I covered my face with my hands, sobbing loudly with a pain I hadn’t experienced, but had become my own. It took some time, but eventually the storm passed. My throat was sore, my eyes sore, but my emotions slowly calmed down.

“I give you…us… a happy life.” I felt a sense of completeness at the words, a almost inaudible relieved sigh in my ear.

Shaking my head, I stood up, stretching with a groan. According to my memories, this character should be about eight years old.

I had already met K’llean. It was probably for the best. If I had the memories I had now, I might not have saved him, child or no.

His cold, careless eyes as he watched his wife sacrifice her life to protect his lover and himself was still fixed firmly in my mind. I wasn’t too happy about it.

The main issue was that I needed to be able to protect the forest, and that would be difficult to accomplish without either burning up my life force or combining my magic with another light magic elf… and K’llean had the strongest magic.

No way in hell am I marrying that guy. My thoughts strayed briefly to the man who had planned our wedding in the last world, wondering if I would see him again, before I reigned them in firmly.  So I just need to be powerful enough that I don’t need the cheater’s help. He can run off and romance the heroine to his heart’s content. I’m going to be the greatest light magic wielder this world has ever seen!

I rubbed my hands together, feeling excited. This was my first magic world, and I was starting out as a child, meaning I got to learn from the start. Elves in this world aged similarly to humans, which gave me about 10 years to prepare for the large scale battle against the darkness. Magic lessons should begin at age ten, but it shouldn’t be too hard to get them to start early.

Magical powers, here I come! 

A villainous laugh filled the air, completely out of place in the beautiful elven forest.

_________________________

“You’re too young.” The Elven leader’s lined face showed his concern as he shook his head at me. “It’s good to be eager, but you should enjoy the freedom and childhood you have before you’re forced to spend all your time studying.”

I glanced off to the side, where a group of elven children were playing. K’llean could be seen in the middle of the group, swinging a branch, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“I’M THE GREATEST!”

Spare me a childhood with him.I smiled at the elder. “It is my duty, and my joy to work hard for the sake of our people. I have a sense that I need to start early to be able to protect our forest.”

The leader eyed me suspiciously. “You were given a prophecy?”

I kept my smile firmly in place. “Sure.” It’s not completely a lie. In a way, I do know what the future holds.“If I’m not powerful enough by the time I reach adulthood. I will die, and the forest will be in grave danger.”

No need to mention the Chosen One for now. Don’t want them skimping on the training resources.

I struggled to keep my thoughts from showing on my face. The elder had been one of many who had supported my character whole-heartedly... at least until the heroine had shown up. Then he had cast her aside just as quickly. 

While still expecting her to be willing to die to protect him and his people.

This life will be different from hers. I’ll give them no choice but to want to stay on my good side.

Perhaps something in my tone or my gaze convinced the older elf. He sighed quietly, patting my head. “Very well. I hope you don’t regret this decision. Once you start, you can’t quit halfway, even if you want to go out and play with the other children.”

I again looked off at the group of young elves. K’llean was squatting over a boy he had just knocked down, farting in the other child’s face while yelling. “YIELD TO THE MIGHTY ELVEN WARRIOR!”

I turned back to the elder. “I am so sure. You have no idea how sure I am.”

“Then let’s begin.”

[jarienn972]

La Sirena - Chapter Eight

Captain Swan Supernatural Summer

We’re nearing the completion of this @cssns​ tale, and despite the challenges this story has posed, I’m a little bit sad that it is nearly finished. 

This chapter has a lot of action as we pick up right where we left off with Regina’s nefarious plan to “test” Killian’s worthiness. Our poor lieutenant has no idea what the devious siren has in mind and it isn’t going to be pleasant.

Thank you, @kmomof4​ for all of your beta assistance, especially with your suggestions for this chapter! And thanks again to @courtorderedcake​ for her beautiful artwork!

Catch up from the beginning on AO3 or FF.net  Tumblr chapters:  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven 

“Retribution”

No amount of naval training could have prepared him for this, Killian thought as he inexplicably found himself standing barefoot on the shore. One moment he'd been crouching inside the cavern awaiting Emma's return and the next, he was facing down the tempestuous ocean, thoroughly exposed. His knuckles had gone white clutching desperately to the cutlass, but as he stared out at the sea, he knew in his heart that the weapon was no match for this unnatural battle.

Above the whitecaps in the distance, he could just make out the crest of Emma's head and that of another person with darker hair coiffed beneath some sort of massive, glistening crown. Was this the mysterious sister that Emma had spoken of? He couldn't make out anything they were saying over the roar of waves crashing against the rock. But it was the dichotomy of their expressions that sent a shiver down his spine. He didn't even dare hypothesize the meaning behind the look of abject horror that spread across Emma's delicate features.

Shivers washed over him and his gut filled with apprehension when his gaze was drawn to movement on the horizon. Could this be signalling the arrival of the siren council that had Emma so concerned? The surface of the water seemed to rise, bubbling and foaming in the most unearthly manner. It was like nothing he had ever seen in all his years at sea and in a mere moment, he was about to wish it could be unseen.

As a mariner, he'd often heard tales of encounters with the legendary kraken and he'd shrugged them off as nothing but fantasy. Perhaps he'd been too quick to judge legend from truth, he found himself thinking as he marveled at the sheer size of the tentacle that emerged from the depths. It was simply beyond belief. From his experience with squid and octopi snared in fishing nets, Killian suspected that this creature would have to be supernaturally large, and that thought was confirmed as it reared its humongous head above the bay.

Even if he hadn't been practically paralyzed with shock and trepidation, he never would have had a chance to outrun the beast's speed or reach as another of its incredibly strong tentacles snatched him off of the beach. The slimy appendage constricted around his upper body, lifting him into the air and pinning his arms to his sides as it threatened to crush him.

First pirates, then sirens, and now he was eye to eye with a bloody kraken… All of them apparently competing to see who would kill him first…

Grimacing in pain, he struggled against its grasp and cried out to Emma for help. He may have been at the mercy of these mythical beings, but his own survival instincts remained fully intact. He wiggled his right arm free enough to draw the cutlass from its sheath. He didn't exactly have full range to properly wield his weapon, but he managed to secure an angle that allowed him to thrust the blade into one of the circular suckers on the underside of the tentacle encircling him. The monster howled and retaliated by lashing Killian into the waves, stunning the sailor as it increased the pressure on his body and dislodging the sword. The blade dropped into the ocean below while a barely conscious Killian could both feel and hear his ribs cracking under the assault.

Emma could only watch in a panic as the kraken scooped Killian off the shore with its tentacles wound tightly around him. She tried in vain to repel the monstrosity with her magic, but her barrage of light energy blasts had little to no effect on the creature.

"Your magic isn't strong enough to deter a kraken," an amused Regina insisted.

"Call it off, Regina!" Emma shouted angrily as the monster's tentacle squeezed ever tighter around Killian's very mortal body. She could hardly bear to see the agony expressed by his features. "This isn't the way! The beast is going to kill him!"

"He was on borrowed time already, sister," Regina reminded her sternly. "But if this pitiful human is as worthy as you claim he is, he certainly should be capable of defeating a kraken - shouldn't he?" She chuckled giddily as Emma's gaze focused on her weak little human, completely aghast by the impending carnage.

"I do not know what you and lord Triton conspired upon, but this is a repulsive abuse of power!" Emma admonished her sister while whipping around in the water to confront the rest of the council when they surfaced to take in the spectacle. "Why can none of you understand that he survived because he did not hear the song? Are you all complicit in this? Serving him up as hapless prey to a kraken is hardly the task our kind was given! Do you think this is what the great Poseidon intended? We were created to sing and only to sing! Any further judgement belongs to the gods, not to the sirens!"

There were a few nods and murmurs from the council but despite Emma's fervent pleas, none of the members seemed to be willing to challenge Regina.

"Cowards…," Emma hissed as she returned her attention to her sister. "I don't know what power you wield over the council, Regina, but I believe that even they know this is wrong. If you want to challenge him, do it with your voice, not with Triton's oversized toy…"

"But this way is so much more fun," Regina smirked and that was what finally pushed Emma over the edge. With a flip of her muscular tail, Emma lunged at Regina, shoving her tentacled sibling beneath the surface and yanking the coral and shell studded crown from atop Regina's head. "Why you insolent little bitch!" Regina cried out as Emma flung the headdress aside. "You've always been a poor excuse for a siren and now you're proving that by all of this fervor to save your human pet!"

Regina flicked two of her tentacles toward Emma who defensively batted them away with her arms and tail fin. The skirmish sent many members of the council scrambling to get out of the way.

"Why are you doing this?" Emma demanded with a brisk swish of her tail that lifted her out of Regina's reach for the moment. "This has never been our way… Please - call off that kraken!"

"You have been away too long. You've gone soft," Regina scolded. "You're practically fawning over a human. How deranged can you possibly be? Have you forgotten what it is to be a siren or are those powers wasted on you?"

"The only deranged one here is you! I know I did the right thing no matter what you believe. Maybe I did go soft but if his life was spared from the siren call, he deserves to live…" Emma couldn't stop her voice from cracking as she continued to plead for Killian's survival. How had this man managed to affect her so greatly in such a short amount of time? Why did she care so much? Compassion wasn't an emotion that sirens were supposed to have…

"No human is worthy to pass through this realm. That was the edict of Poseidon himself," Regina sneered, raising her right arm above the water's surface as she prepared to unleash her magic on the helpless human who'd gone limp in the kraken's grip.

"PERHAPS I SHOULD BE THE JUDGE OF THAT," a booming voice sounded above the bay, silencing all, including the roaring sea beast.

A glistening trident with tines that blazed as brilliantly as lightning bolts broke through the waves. Emma immediately bowed her head even before the god's visage appeared and her action was followed by the siren council members who'd remained. Even Regina demurely lowered her head at the sight of Poseidon's face, but no amount of posturing would spare her from his ire. With a scant raise of his trident, the seas instantly grew calm and the kraken, still clinging to its human prey, was now frozen in time.

"Enough distractions," Poseidon said as his attention fell to the combative sirens. "The creatures living in this bay alerted me to all of this… whatever this is. What in the name of Olympus is going on here?"

"Mighty Poseidon," Regina began as she slowly lifted her chin to gaze upon the god of the sea. Her eyes darted back to the sea at the sight of his deep-set scowl. "We were just trying to complete some unfinished business, but there has been some disagreement over doing what needs to be done."

Poseidon shook his head in disdain as he glowered at the brunette siren. "This is a disagreement?" he queried as he nonchalantly pushed his glimmering three pointed crown back into position atop his pure white hair, echoing Regina's earlier behavior. "I think this is a ruckus and I would like to know how a council of sirens got themselves into such a bizarre situation. I don't recall krakens being a part of the siren song."

Regina's cheeks burned with embarrassment and anger. How dare Emma and her human put her in this position? "My apologies. Had Erimetha not abandoned our code and rescued a human, we wouldn't be here. The kraken was merely a suggestion from your brother, Triton, as a means to expedite the process."

"Was it now?" Poseidon quipped sarcastically before his scrutiny passed to Emma who, to this point, had remained reverent, silently treading water as she awaited the inevitable wrath of the god. "I'll need to have a stern conversation with my brother about his suggestion, but Erimetha - pardon me, I forgot that you prefer to be called Emma - is what Regina says true? Did you rescue a human from a doomed ship?"

Emma managed a weak smile over the fact that Poseidon had remembered her preferred name and even corrected himself. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn't being viewed as the villain here.

"Regina's words are partially true. The man had already survived the siren song. He never heard them sing. All I did was prevent him from rolling off of his makeshift raft," Emma replied as she dared raise her head to face Poseidon.

"What possessed you to do such a thing?" Poseidon asked with a raised brow, intently listening for her response.

Emma had to pause for a moment, trying to best form her words, but the best she could come up with was: "My instincts told me I should."

"I see…" The god of the seas scratched idly at his beard as he contemplated Emma's answer - one that Regina clearly didn't believe to be good enough.

"She admits she helped the human," Regina rehashed her opinion, crossing her arms over her chest indignantly as she awaited the god's agreement.

Giving no audience to Regina, Poseidon continued his interrogation of Emma as only the outcast siren's first-hand account was going to answer the questions he wanted answered.

"You claim the human did not perish during the siren encounter because he didn't hear their song. What led you to that conclusion, Emma?"

"As he was recovering from his injuries sustained at the hand of the pirates who had abducted him and during his escape from the sinking ship, we conversed a few times. He believed the ship's crew had abandoned their vessel after striking the rocks and left him behind. It wasn't until after Regina came to my cove the first time in search of a survivor that he learned the truth about the siren attack, but he didn't recall hearing any music before the ship began to go down. It was my belief that he might possibly have been deaf to the song so I tested the theory by singing to him and he never heard me. He never fell victim to the trance. Does that not make him worthy to live?"

Poseidon pursed his lips and rubbed his whiskered chin as he pondered his next query but grew irritated by Regina's refusal to be silent when she interrupted his thoughts.

"This doesn't prove anything," Regina interjected, only to be immediately shushed by the god.

"Regina - my questions are for Emma at this time. It would be in your best interest to remain quiet until I address you," he warned sternly. "When I have a question for you, I shall ask. Do you understand?"

An embarrassed Regina nodded and gave a sheepish "Yes, your majesty." before floating further back from him.

"Emma, what do you know of the history of the sirens?" Poseidon inquired.

She was caught off-guard by the unusual question, but she did her best to surmise the history she knew. "Centuries ago, the gods lived in peace with humans, but a time came when the humans no longer showed reverence to the gods. As the human realm grew in size and they began to traverse the globe, you and Triton established this part of the mighty oceans as your sacred realm. We sirens were created to guard entrance into the realm as our song was supposed to determine whether a human was worthy to pass.

"Over many generations, only one human proved to be worthy - although the precise means of how his worth was determined remain unclear. Anyway, this human gained your favor and in time, was granted permission to marry your daughter, Ursula. Their civilization then flourished for many years, until the same insolence led to the destruction of that advanced civilization.

"Humans were once again regarded as evil, and while there are many tales of your descendants being spared, no one but you, your majesty, knows the veracity of that. All I know for certain is that even long before I isolated myself away from the sirens, no human ever traversed this realm successfully. All of them perished - until Killian came along. I do not know what criteria you intended us to use to judge men such as him, but he isn't evil. If he was able to make it off of that ship alive, does that not mean he was worthy of passage?"

Poseidon raised a brow at the thoroughness of her reply. He'd known for quite some time that Emma was unique amongst her kind, but he'd not expected to find such an underlying passion for life within a being who'd been created to kill.

"You are very much correct, Emma," he said at last, leaving a disgruntled Regina aghast.

"But Lord Poseidon, she defied the siren code by interfering!" Regina insisted and she was met with a harsh rebuttal.

"Regina, my instruction was for you to remain silent until you were addressed, but you seem to have difficulty following such a simple directive," he admonished the unruly siren. "You and the council are dismissed!" Lifting his trident, he aimed it at the frozen kraken, divesting it of its human prey. In a flash, an unconscious Killian Jones was removed from the creature's grasp to reappear safely upon the sandy shore. He waved off the layer of imposing clouds that shrouded the skies, allowing the sunlight to bathe the cove once again. The kraken reared to life as Poseidon's spell wore off, but the god quickly neutered its wrath. "And since you summoned it, you can return that blasted beast to my brother on your way home to your end of the island! Once I have completed cleaning up the mess you have made here, you will stand before me to answer for this abuse of your powers! Even with the most convincing apology, you may find yourself relieved of those powers."

Regina's lips parted to complain but wisely, not a single whimper escaped as she turned away from the intensity of his glare. Glancing around the bay, she could see that not a single council member had stayed behind to see her humiliation, so perhaps she could count that as a single victory. It was still her belief that she'd done no wrong, but for now, it was far better to lick her wounds and depart than further provoke the wrath of a god who had just publicly castigated her in front of her rival.

Visibly shaken, Regina gave one last little flutter of her wrist to vanquish the kraken, scowling eyes locked on Emma the entire time. Despite her fallen crown being forgotten and abandoned to the sea floor, she held her chin up audaciously before slipping beneath the waves with the knowledge that this may have been her last act as a siren.

[michaelbogild]

Quotes by Fernando Pessoa

All I’ve ever done is dream. That, and only that, has been the meaning of my existence. The only thing I’ve ever really cared about is my inner life. My greatest griefs faded to nothing the moment I opened the window onto my inner self and lost myself in watching. I never tried to be anything other than a dreamer. I never paid any attention to people who told me to go out and live. I belonged always to whatever was far from me and to whatever I could never be. Anything that was not mine, however base, always seemed to be full of poetry. The only thing I ever loved was pure nothingness.

And I have the others in me. Even when I’m far away from them, I am forced to live with them. Even when I’m all alone, crowds surround me. I have no place to flee to, unless I were to flee from myself.

And, like the great damned souls, I shall always feel that thinking is worth more than living.

At first I felt dizzy - not with the kind of dizziness that makes the body reel but the kind that's like a dead emptiness in the brain, an instinctive awareness of the void.

Being tired of all illusions and of everything about illusions – the loss of illusions, the uselessness of having them, the prefatigue of having to have them in order to lose them, the sadness of having had them, the intellectual shame of having had them knowing that they would have to end this way.

Blessed are those who entrust their lives to no one.

Eternal tourists of ourselves, there is no landscape but what we are. We possess nothing, for we don’t even possess ourselves. We have nothing because we are nothing. What hand will I reach out, and to what universe? The universe isn’t mine: it’s me.

Everything around me is evaporating. My whole life, my memories, my imagination and its contents, my personality - it's all evaporating. I continuously feel that I was someone else, that I felt something else, that I thought something else. What I'm attending here is a show with another set. And the show I'm attending is myself.

I am nothing. I'll never be anything. I couldn't want to be something. Apart from that, I have in me all the dreams in the world

I bear the wounds of all the battles I avoided.

I carry my awareness of defeat like a banner of victory.

I feel as if I'm always on the verge of waking up.

I know nothing and my heart achesto know how to think with emotions and to feel with intellect…

I realize that I was all error and deviation, that I never lived, that I existed only in so far as I filled time with consciousness and thought.

I suffer from life and from other people. I can’t look at reality face to face. Even the sun discourages and depresses me. Only at night and all alone, withdrawn, forgotten and lost, with no connection to anything real or useful — only then do I find myself and feel comforted.

I wasn’t meant for reality, but life came and found me.

I'd woken up early, and I took a long time getting ready to exist.

I'm sick of everything, and of the everythingness of everything.

I've always rejected being understood. To be understood is to prostitute oneself. I prefer to be taken seriously for what I'm not, remaining humanly unknown, with naturalness and all due respect

I've never done anything but dream. This, and this alone, has been the meaning of my life. My only real concern has been my inner life.

In order to understand, I destroyed myself.

In the ordinary jumble of my literary drawer, I sometimes find texts I wrote ten, fifteen, or even more years ago. And many of them seem to me written by a stranger: I simply do not recognize myself in them. There was a person who wrote them, and it was I. I experienced them, but it was in another life, from which I just woke up, as if from someone else's dream.

In this metallic age of barbarians, only a relentless cultivation of our ability to dream, to analyse and to captivate can prevent our personality from degenerating into nothing or else into a personality like all the rest.

I’ve dreamed a lot. I’m tired now from dreaming but not tired of dreaming. No one tires of dreaming, because to dream is to forget, and forgetting does not weigh on us, it is a dreamless sleep throughout which we remain awake. In dreams I have achieved everything.

Life is an experimental journey undertaken involuntarily. It is a journey of the spirit through the material world and, since it is the spirit that travels, it is the spirit that is experienced. That is why there exist contemplative souls who have lived more intensely, more widely, more tumultuously than others who have lived their lives purely externally.

Life is what we make of it. Travel is the traveler. What we see isn't what we see but what we are.

Literature is the most agreeable way of ignoring life.

Lord, may the pain be ours, And the weakness that it brings, But at least give us the strength, Of not showing it to anyone!

Man shouldn’t be able to see his own face – there’s nothing more sinister. Nature gave him the gift of not being able to see it, and of not being able to stare into his own eyes. Only in the water of rivers and ponds could he look at his face. And the very posture he had to assume was symbolic. He had to bend over, stoop down, to commit the ignominy of beholding himself.  The inventor of the mirror poisoned the human heart.

Masquerades disclose the reality of souls. As long as no one sees who we are, we can tell the most intimate details of our life. I sometimes muse over this sketch of a story about a man afflicted by one of those personal tragedies born of extreme shyness who one day, while wearing a mask I don’t know where, told another mask all the most personal, most secret, most unthinkable things that could be told about his tragic and serene life. And since no outward detail would give him away, he having disguised even his voice, and since he didn’t take careful note of whoever had listened to him, he could enjoy the ample sensation of knowing that somewhere in the world there was someone who knew him as not even his closest and finest friend did. When he walked down the street he would ask himself if this person, or that one, or that person over there might not be the one to whom he’d once, wearing a mask, told his most private life. Thus would be born in him a new interest in each person, since each person might be his only, unknown confidant.

My hapless peers with their lofty dreams--how I envy and despise them! I'm with the others, the even more hapless, who have no-one but themselves to whom they can tell their dreams and show what would be verses if they wrote them. I'm with those poor slobs who have no books to show, who have no literature beside their own soul, and who are suffocating to death due to the fact that they exist without having taken that mysterious, transcendental exam that makes one eligible to live.

My past is everything I failed to be.

My soul is a black maelstrom, a great madness spinning about a vacuum, the swirling of a vast ocean around a hole in the void, and in the waters, more like whirlwinds than waters, float images of all I ever saw or heard in the world: houses, faces, books, boxes, snatches of music and fragments of voices, all caught up in a sinister, bottomless whirlpool.

My soul is a hidden orchestra; I know not what instruments, what fiddlestrings and harps, drums and tamboura I sound and clash inside myself. All I hear is the symphony.

My soul is impatient with itself, as with a bothersome child; its restlessness keeps growing and is forever the same. Everything interests me, but nothing holds me.

My soul is impatient with itself, as with a bothersome child; its restlessness keeps growing and is forever the same. Everything interests me, but nothing holds me. I attend to everything, dreaming all the while. […]. I'm two, and both keep their distance — Siamese twins that aren't attached.

No intelligent idea can gain general acceptance unless some stupidity is mixed in with it

Sit still with me in the shade of these green trees, which have no weightier thought than the withering of their leaves when autumn arrives, or the stretching of their many stiff fingers into the cold sky of the passing winter. Sit still with me and meditate on how useless effort is, how alien the will, and on how our very meditation is no more useful than effort, and no more our own than the will. Meditate too on how a life that wants nothing can have no weight in the flux of things, but a life the wants everything can likewise have no weight in the flux of things, since it cannot obtain everything, and to obtain less than everything is not worthy of souls that seek the truth.

The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd - The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.

The unnatural and the strange have a perfume of their own

There are metaphors more real than the people who walk in the street. There are images tucked away in books that live more vividly than many men and women. There are phrases from literary works that have a positively human personality. There are passages from my own writing that chill me with fright, so distinctly do I feel them as people, so sharply outlined do they appear against the walls of my room, at night, in shadows... I've written sentences whose sound, read out loud or silently (impossible to hide their sound), can only be of something that acquired absolute exteriority and a full-fledged soul.

There are no norms. All people are exceptions to a rule that doesn’t exist.

There are ships sailing to many ports, but not a single one goes where life is not painful.

To be great, be whole; Exclude nothing, exaggerate nothing that is not you. Be whole in everything. Put all you are Into the smallest thing you do. So, in each lake, the moon shines with splendor Because it blooms up above

To have opinions is to sell out to youself. To have no opinions is to exist. To have every opinion is to be a poet.

Today I suddenly experienced an absurd but quite valid sensation. I realized, in an intimate lightning flash, that I am no one. No one, absolutely no one.

Today, suddenly, I reached an absurd but unerring conclusion. In a moment of enlightenment, I realized that I'm nobody, absolutely nobody. When the lightning flashed, I saw that what I had thought to be a city was in fact a deserted plain and, in the same sinister light that revealed me to myself, there seemed to be no sky above it. I was robbed of any possibility of having existed before the world. If I was ever reincarnated, I must have done so without myself, without a self to reincarnate. I am the outskirts of some non-existent town, the long-winded prologue to an unwritten book. I'm nobody, nobody. I don't know how to feel or think or love. I'm a character in a novel as yet unwritten, hovering in the air and undone before I've even existed, amongst the dreams of someone who never quite managed to breathe life into me. I'm always thinking, always feeling, but my thoughts lack all reason, my emotions all feeling. I'm falling through a trapdoor, through infinite, infinitous space, in a directionless, empty fall. My soul is a black maelstrom, a great madness spinning about a vacuum, the swirling of a vast ocean around a hole in the void, and in the waters, more like whirlwinds than waters, float images of all I ever saw or heard in the world: houses, faces, books, boxes, snatches of music and fragments of voices, all caught up in a sinister, bottomless whirlpool. And I, I myself, am the centre that exists only because the geometry of the abyss demands it; I am the nothing around which all this spins, I exist so that it can spin, I am a centre that exists only because every circle has one. I, I myself, am the well in which the walls have fallen away to leave only viscous slime. I am the centre of everything surrounded by the great nothing. And it is as if hell itself were laughing within me but, instead of the human touch of diabolical laughter, there's the mad croak of the dead universe, the circling cadaver of physical space, the end of all worlds drifting blackly in the wind, misshapen, anachronistic, without the God who created it, without God himself who spins in the dark of darks, impossible, unique, everything. If only I could think! If only I could feel!

We all have two lives: The true, the one we dreamed of in childhood And go on dreaming of as adults in a substratum of mist; the false, the one we love when we live with others, the practical, the useful, the one we end up by being put in a coffin.

We are two abysses - a well staring at the sky.

We never love anyone. What we love is the idea we have of someone. It's our own concept—our own selves—that we love.

We worship perfection because we can't have it; if we had it, we would reject it. Perfection is inhuman, because humanity is imperfect.

What Hells and Purgatories and Heavens I have inside of me! But who sees me do anything that disagrees with life--me, so calm and peaceful?

When all by myself, I can think of all kinds of clever remarks, quick comebacks to what no one said, and flashes of witty sociability with nobody. But all of this vanishes when I face someone in the flesh: I lose my intelligence, I can no longer speak, and after half an hour I just feel tired. Talking to people makes me feel like sleeping. Only my ghostly and imaginary friends, only the conversations I have in my dreams, are genuinely real and substantial.

Whether or not they exist we are slaves to our gods.

Without madness what is man But a wholesome beast, Postponed corpse that begets

[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

Toeing the Line

Eomer is secretly in love with Deryn, and she is trying to figure out where his feelings lie when he is banished after the death of Theodred.

MASTERLIST

OC(s) Used: Deryn

Word Count:  1,803

Translation(s): None

~~~~

We were besieged by Orcs; too many to count without pausing in the fight against them.  It almost seemed pointless, until one remembered just what we were fighting for.

Our people.  Freedom.  Rohan.

"For Rohan!"  I screamed into an Orc's ugly face as I impaled it upon my sword.  It crumpled off the end, leaving me to battle the rest of the horde alongside my male companions.

We had set out today on Lord Théodred's orders, to hold the Fords of Isen against Sauroman's Orcs that wished to overrun us.  He had stayed back to man the eyot in case our commander--Grimbold--was unable to defeat the Orcs.  

"Deryn!"  I heard a familiar voice call through the screeching cries of the Orcs, and the yells of men battling for their lives.  Turning my attention away from the battle for a split second, I caught sight of Eómer, cousin of Lord Théodred and someone I loved a little better than a friend.  

Not that he would ever know.  I was just a shield maiden of Rohan, pledged to protect her from all enemies while he was basically royalty.  

His long blonde hair blew in the mild breeze that made this day bearable in our heavy, hot armor as he waded through the dead bodies of Orcs to come to my side.  His sword was held out in preparation to kill anything that tried to attack him.  

"Lord Eómer," I said with a smile, brushing back a wayward black strand of hair while watching his hazel eyes crinkle up as he smiled back at me.  

"Deryn, what have I told you about calling me by my title?"  He teased, reaching my side and thrusting out his sword to catch a passing Orc and slaughter it.  

I took a moment to respond to him as I killed another Orc, watching as their numbers slowly dwindled against our fierce onslaught.  We would keep the Isen another day.

"Fine.  Eómer, how are our forces holding up?"  I asked, looking up at him.  He was so much taller, making me seem even smaller than I really was at 5'9".  

"We've only lost a few men, but it was enough for Théodred to bring his forces in.  They're over by the Ford right now."  Eómer answered absentmindedly, looking over in that direction.  

That's when we heard the scream.  

Instantly, Eómer's face paled, his dark eyes flickering down at me for a second before he was moving towards the Ford, from whence the scream had come.  As he began to run, a single anguished word fled his lips.  

"Théodred."

At that word, I could feel the blood drain from my own face and I followed after him, praying that we wouldn't find what I feared.

As we both sprinted across the bloodied ground, dodging the bodies of our brave, valiant men, and the carcasses of the Orcs, I noticed that all the vile creatures had fled, allowing us a victory.  

Upon reached the Ford, and the huddle of men that stood around the ominously still body of Théodred, Eómer forced his way through, falling to his knees beside his cousin and gently lifting Théodred's crimson-stained hand off his chest.

"Let me through," I said loudly, making the crowd of uncertain men part before me so I could hurry to Théodred's side.  

A quick glance at his chest told me that things weren't good.  His leather armor had been pierced directly below his rib cage, and scarlet had stained much of his abdomen; too much.

I knelt carefully beside Théodred, hands gently moving away the hand that he had pressed to his abdomen in an attempt to staunch the blood constantly oozing.  

He appeared to be unconscious, not dead like I'd originally thought, but the motion of moving his hand had him moaning softly and opening his brown eyes.  A grimace marred his features as he took shallow, trembling breaths.

"My Lord, it's going to be alright."  I tried to soothe him, smoothing back his blonde hair in an attempt to reassure him.  

Théodred's creased brow furrowed even more as he tried to say something, his chest heaving as he took a deep breath, which appeared to cause him excruciating pain as his already pale complexion grew even paler and his eyes fluttered shut; body falling limp as he lapsed back into unconsciousness.

"Lady Deryn," Eómer's soft call of my name had me looking up at him as he stared at me with reddened, worried eyes.  "We need to move him, quickly."  

I nodded in agreement, ignoring Eómer's use of my honorary title.  I didn't feel much in the mood  

to tease him; the sooner Théodred could receive the attentions of a healer, the better.  I might have known something about medicine, but it wasn't enough to properly care for him.

"Yes, he needs to be tended to quickly."  I said softly, letting go of Théodred's hand as I stood up, brushing his blood off my hands onto my skirt.  "Someone get Brego!"

~~~~~~~~

That scum Wormtongue was intolerable.  He had poisoned our King's mind and manipulated him into doing just what he wanted.  

"My Lord, your nephew Eómer approaches.  He has come back from the battle."  I could hear him murmur into King Théoden's ear as he stood beside him.  

Eómer slowly walked up to his Uncle, dropping respectfully onto one knee and bowing his head as he reached the throne.  

"My Lord Théoden, your son Théodred," Eómer paused, swallowing hard, "Théodred, he-he was mortally injured in the battle."  He choked out, but King Théoden gave him no reaction.  Not even a sign that he recognized Eómer's presence.  

Wormtongue moved quickly towards Eómer, his unnaturally pale face made even more ugly by the expression of barely concealed contempt that he wore.  "You should not have troubled My Lord Théoden with such news.  My Lord is already in such a delicate state of mind..."  He said in a low voice, false concern dowsing his words.  

Eómer rose quickly to his feet, looking down upon the wretch named Wormtongue.  His hazel eyes flashed dangerously, and I watch his 6'6" burly frame tense as he clenched his fists in an effort to remain calm.

"There is nothing wrong with King Théoden except the fact that you constantly whisper in his ear, answering for him, controlling him.  He would be better off without you!"  Eómer growled out, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he clenched it.  "We all would," he added in a softer voice.

Wormtongue hurried away from him, the contempt he felt for Eómer no longer hidden in his pale, watery eyes.  "You dare insult me?!"  He hissed in a wondering voice, an evil smile playing at the corner of his mouth as he watched Eómer.  "For such arrogance against your King's most trusted advisor, you deserve banishment;  which I will gladly give you."  He sneered, and Eómer stood silently for a moment, glaring openly at him.

"Someday you will pay with blood for what you are doing; for what you have done," Eómer said quietly, "and I will be there when that day comes."  

With that, he turned away from Wormtongue and King Théoden and walked towards me, head held high.  

Catching sight of me standing by the door, Eómer stopped.  "Deryn, I wish I did not have to say goodbye."  He murmured quietly, dark eyes gentling as they watched me.  "You mean very much to me, and now that I am exiled..."  His rich voice trailed off.

I nodded absentmindedly, shooting a glance towards Wormtongue as he muttered something into King Théoden's ear.  Then Eómer's words registered.

I whirled to look at him, green eyes wide in disbelief.  "Wait, he banished you?!"  I asked incredulously, and Eómer nodded silently.

"That he did, Deryn."  

Gritting my teeth, I outright glared at Wormtongue, forming an idea in my mind.  "I'm going to go punch him."  I growled, marching determinedly towards that foul scum that deserved nothing less than to be fed alive to Orcs.

"Deryn, no!"  Eómer hissed, reaching out and grabbing my arm before I could march over and give Wormtongue a taste of my fist.  "He'll have you banished too, or worse, executed."  

I scowled at him.  "So what if I get banished with you?  There's nowhere I'd rather be than by your side."  I said, trying to keep the heat from rising in my cheeks at such a forward declaration.  

Eómer just grinned, hazel eyes twinkling.  "You make it sound as if you have some attachment to me," he teased, releasing my arm from his grasp and interlacing our fingers instead.  

The blush that flooded my cheeks at his words and touch was impossible to hide, so I just ducked my head, trusting in my long black hair to hide my embarrassment.  This was what made it so hard to hide my feelings; the way he acted as if we were just friends and comrades, nothing more.  

Deciding to change to subject, I looked back at Wormtongue.  "Are you sure I can't punch him?"  I asked softly, and the gentle chuckle I heard in response to my words had me looking up into Eómer's smiling face.

"Yes, Lady Deryn."

I frowned, "what have I told you about using my title?"  I asked, contemplating pulling away from him and making a running dash at Wormtongue.  "What if I just break his nose a little?  Surely that's alright?"  I asked before Eómer could respond to my first question and this time he

laughed outright, covering his mouth with his hand in an attempt to stifle it.

"I'm positive, Deryn.  Now, I must go.  Perhaps one day we will meet again?"  He said, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

"No.  We will never meet again, Eómer.  I'm sorry."  I whispered, and Eómer's gaze darkened instantly, the laughter vanishing in the blink of an eye.  

"What do you mean by 'no'?"  He asked in a whisper that vaguely hinted at the emotions he was feeling.

"I mean 'no' as in the fact that we will never need to meet again.  I'm coming with you."  I said, smiling a little at the look on Eómer's face.  

With a sigh, he gently squeezed my hand that he still held in his grasp.  "I suppose that even if I say no again, you'll just find a way to come with me."  He said in what was clearly mock-exasperation; I could tell.  He was not as good of an actor as he thought.

I nodded.  "Yes.  You're going to be stuck with me, whether you like it or not."

Eómer groaned, turning away from me on the pretense of walking out the door.  But nothing could hide the huge smile that bloomed on his face.

Sometimes I couldn't understand him.

[skaylanphear]

Monster

Summary: Ladybug didn’t know how far one could stretch the abilities of the peacock miraculous. And quite frankly, she hadn’t wanted to find out. But when she and Chat Noir finally catch Hawkmoth--revealing him to be Gabriel Agreste, no less--they learn the truth about many things. About him, his wife, and the unnatural means by which the couple had recreated their dead son using the same power that Mayura had twisted into sentimonsters. 

And though Ladybug can’t figure out why Chat Noir seems to be taking the news so hard, his own identity soon makes it all clear. 

(just another drabble based on a new episode. Like, y’all knew I had to do it to him)

Part 1

Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth.

This was a reality that was slowly sinking through Ladybug's system. After all, there was no denying the truth. He was crouched on the ground before her, his miraculous in her hand while her other gripped her yoyo. He'd tried to escape through the secret elevator in his house, but she and Chat had followed him through. Weakened after their previous battle and without the help of Mayura—who'd collapsed upstairs—it'd taken only another moment to steal his miraculous, leaving him exposed before them.

Exposed in his lair, which Marinette was taking in as she quickly looked around. Long walkways, butterfly breeding grounds, and…

"What the hell is this place?!" Chat demanded, pointing his stick threateningly in Gabriel's direction. "Explain. Now!"

"What does it look like?" Gabriel asked shortly, slumping some as he looked up at them. "It's a tomb."

Flicking her attention back behind him, Ladybug finally took in the ignited figure at the back of the room. She was propped up behind a glass case—a case more akin to a coffin. She was holding a bouquet of flowers, expression peaceful.

Chat was looking between the encased figure and Gabriel as well, just as confused as Ladybug.

"Is this why you wanted the miraculouses?" Ladybug asked.

Gabriel sighed. "With the power of your miraculouses, I can heal her." His gaze dropped to the ground. "I can bring her back."

"What's wrong with her?" Chat asked. Well, it was less a question so much as a demand. And when Gabriel didn't immediately answer, he extended his stick harshly into his chest, knocking him onto his back. "Tell me!"

"Chat!" Ladybug scolded, but he ignored her.

Gabriel shoved the stick aside and propped himself up on his hands. "I don't see how the details of her condition are any of your business," he snapped.

Ladybug glared. "I don't think you're in any position to be making determinations about anything."

Gabriel eyed her for a moment, before clicking his tongue and looking to the side. "She abused a miraculous and so suffered the consequences."

Chat curled his lip. "A miraculous?" he asked. "How? Why?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I want to know!"

Ladybug looked again to Chat, surprised at his ferociousness. But she had to admit that she, too, was curious as to how all this had gotten started. Not only because they'd finally caught Hawkmoth and she wanted details, but because this was Adrien's mother and father. Maybe it wasn't her business, but she still wanted to know.

"When you try to make a miraculous do something it's not meant to do, there are prices to be paid," Gabriel replied. "But Emilie was willing to pay that price, just as I'm willing to pay the price to bring her back."

"That's not an explanation," Chat growled.

"It's enough."

"It's not."

"Just tell us the whole story," Ladybug insisted. "And don't leave anything out."

Gabriel glared, but with Chat once again shoving his stick into his chest, he released another defeated sigh.

"It happened because of our son," he started, a statement that visibly startled both Chat and Ladybug. "Some years ago, he got… sick. Very sick. He'd always been… weak. That was why he had to stay in the house, and why we never let him go to school. Because his health… He just couldn't.

"We knew from the beginning that he was unlikely to live much past the age of twelve or thirteen. But even so, you can't… You don't just give up on your children. We talked with the best doctors in the world, got opinions from everyone, but no one could help us. So Emilie decided to look into… other options."

"The miraculous…" Ladybug determined.

"Yes. We got a lead that led us to Tibet, but the miraculouses we found weren't the ones we needed. What we needed were your miraculouses, but we got the peacock and moth miraculous instead.

"We started to give up hope. Adrien, he… he didn't have much time left. And so we decided that what little time he did have, we'd spend it… with him. Home. Together. As a family." He had to pause to take a shaky breath, his chin trembling as he visibly clenched his jaw. "He was everything good in the world. He knew he was—that he—he knew what was coming, and he was this… positive force through it all.

"He told us not to worry," he said, voice choked. "That everything would be fine. That he'd be fine, no matter what."

"You can't possibly know what it's like." He looked back up at them, heavy, dark grief apparent in his gaze. "To watch for months—years—as the one thing in the world you love the most slowly fades away."

Shaking his head, he tried to remain composed, but a single tear streaked down his cheek nonetheless.

"He died in my arms," he whispered, the words so strained it was amazing he could even say them. "Nothing but skin and bones, wasted away to nothing. He took his last breath while we held him, and then he was gone."

Despite herself, Ladybug blinked back her own emotions. None of it made sense, because she knew Adrien and he was strong and healthy. Yet, somehow, she realized that what Gabriel was saying was true as well.

"Parents aren't supposed to outlive their children," he continued brokenly, seemingly giving in to the fact that he wasn't going to be able to hold back his own despair. "Even though we knew it was coming, we could never have been prepared. It broke us both, losing him. But with Emilie it… it was like she just couldn't accept it.

"So she started experimenting with the peacock miraculous. At first, I thought she was just… grieving, creating these sentient creatures that looked like him, but never actually were. Because no matter how close to living the peacock miraculous makes these… things, they were never actually… But she kept going, thinking she was getting closer each time.

"But the peacock miraculous isn't the miraculous of creation—it doesn't have the ability to create life or restore it. Not within the typical parameters of how it's meant to be used. But Emilie, she… she was always the type to think outside the box. Like you." He nodded to Ladybug. "She always found a solution, even in the bleakest of circumstances.

"She became very skilled at creating these… fake copies of our son. I hated them, but they seemed to preoccupy her, so I just… kept my distance. Maybe if I'd been more attentive, I could have stopped her. But in the end, I was too late.

"She's kept a few locks of his hair, before we'd… As a memento. I don't know when she started using the hairs to create the creatures, but I suspect that was when the miraculous started siphoning off her own energy. Because with each attempt she made at making him real, the more there was that was required of her. Like I said, the peacock miraculous doesn't create life, so in order to do that, you have to get that life-force from someone else.

"She perfected him. She manipulated the genetics in those strands of hair, weeding out all the weaknesses and leaving everything else behind. But even so, he still wasn't… right. Which she knew, because she'd been practicing. Preparing herself for the real thing.

"So the time came when she felt she was ready. She took one of those single hairs and instead of keeping it, she created the… sentimonster, as you call them, around it. Protectively, so it could be born with free will that no one else could take or manipulate. And then she poured all of her life force into it.

"It shouldn't have worked, because that's not what the peacock miraculous is for. But I suppose we can't really know the true nature of the forces that reside inside those tiny jewelry pieces. They're beyond us. Her love, her memories, her desire, her grief, whatever it was she poured into him, it was enough to break the barriers that had defined what was possible with her miraculous.

"But it also shattered the miraculous, which in turn shattered what little remained of her. So here we are." He gestured out to the sides. "My wife is all but as dead as my son and all I wanted to do is bring her back."

To say that Ladybug was pale and shaky by the end of his story was a bit of an understatement. It was hard to believe, let alone rationalize. Because that meant the Adrien she knew, that went to school with her and her friends…

"But you have a son," she said sternly, as if needing to convince herself.

"Yes." Gabriel shrugged one shoulder. "I have the living embodiment of what Emilie thought our son was and want she wanted him to be. A perfect child that represents all that we loved without all the ill that stole him away from us. But though they share the same name, he's not the Adrien that died in my arms. He's perfect and unreal, just as Emilie intended him to be."

"But he's not unreal," Chat reasoned, sounding oddly desperate. "He's… He's a person. He has feelings and memories and—"

"And he is just as Emilie intended him to be," Gabriel replied flatly.

"You talk about him as if he's not your son at all," Ladybug pointed out.

"Of course he's my son," Gabriel snapped. "But he's not the son we lost and he never will be. Emilie's grief created something unnatural and she had to pay the consequences, while I live on with a constant reminder of everything I lost, loving it—him—because what else is there possibly left for me to do?" Once again, his expression broke. "He's perfect, but he's the only thing in my life that is."

"No one is perfect," Ladybug replied, finally beginning to regain her composure. "Your wife did an abhorrent thing, creating Adrien the way she did." Gaping, Chat whipped around to look at her. "But it's not his fault he exists, nor is it his fault that he now has to pay the price for you and your wife's mistakes."

"If you'd give me your miraculouses, he wouldn't have to know a thing about it," Gabriel growled out.

"What makes you think there isn't a price to be paid to use our miraculouses that way too?" she asked. "What you want to do is no more unnatural than what your wife did originally. You've created a life and ruined it all at the same time.

"You act like what your wife did was a mistake, but now you're trying to do the same thing. What makes you think your attempts will end any differently?"

"Because this time I'll have the proper tools!"

"No, you won't," she said firmly. "There are no right tools for what you're trying to do. No, all either of you have done was create a child that you've now orphaned. His mother is dead and now his father… You've done Adrien a horrible, horrible wrong and there's no way you'll ever be able to undo it."

"I'm doing this for Adrien!" Gabriel insisted.

"No you're not," Ladybug insisted. "You're doing it for yourself. Because you're just as steeped in grief as your wife was.

"This ends now," she said finally. "No more will you abuse any miraculouses. Or Adrien, for that matter."

"I love my son."

"That doesn't mean any of this is okay. I know Adrien. And I know that he'd never approve of anything you've been doing." She paused, swallowing hard. "And I hope to god that he never finds out the truth you just told us."

Gabriel glared. "Then you're not going to even try and help me."

Ladybug stood firm. "No."

And so Gabriel looked to Chat Noir. "And you?"

"I've already called the police," he said coldly, holding up his stick as he did. The phone adaptor was open, programmed to supply the authorities with their location. "You'll never be allowed to abuse a miraculous the way you and your wife have ever again."

Gabriel scowled.

"You're going to prison," he continued. "And if I have anything say about it, you'll be locked up for the rest of your life."

"It won't be that simple," Gabriel practically threatened.

"You're a terrorist that's murdered thousands. I don't think there's much to question," Ladybug replied.

"Thousands that you brought back!" Gabriel practically shouted. "How is that any different than what I'm trying to do?!"

"Because I only bring back the people who have died by the unnatural means of your abused miraculous!" she snapped. "I'm not bringing back people who die every day outside of your influence. I wouldn't even know where to start in doing that, because I know better than to question things like the natural process of life and death! Your wife… Your wife tampered with that line and I can't… I won't follow in her footsteps. And I'm certainly not going to allow you to do that either."

"You'd rather retain a status quo?" Gabriel asked. "Is that really the attitude of a hero?"

"It's the attitude of someone who knows their place in the universe," Ladybug replied simply. "And who has accepted their own mortality in the face of a universe I know is beyond my comprehension."

"Then you're a coward, unwilling to reach beyond your simple existence!"

"No, Gabriel," she said steadily. "You're the one unwilling to face reality. If anyone here is a coward, it's not me or Chat Noir."

Maybe he'd have had more to say. Maybe he'd have tried to do more than that. But if fate truly existed, it had something far different in store for Gabriel Agreste. Within the moment that Ladybug had quit speaking, they heard voices overhead, before a flashlight was shining down through the elevator shaft behind them. Snapping her yoyo out, Ladybug wrapped Gabriel up before he could finish standing, stranding him in place while Chat turned and marched back toward the elevator.

Soon enough, the police were all over the lair. And while Ladybug knew there was no hiding what was obvious, she hoped that perhaps she'd be able to keep a majority of the more sensitive details between only her and Chat Noir. Keeping both the moth and peacock miraculous hidden in her fist, she gladly handed Gabriel Agreste over to the authorities.

She wanted to find Adrien before things could get too messy. He had to be somewhere in the house. At the very least, she wanted to prepare him for what was coming. Yet as she attempted to retreat back up the elevator shaft, she was halted by the police for questioning. And so she ended up stranded for some time, explaining all that had happened and any details she felt were pertinent.

By the time she finally broke away and swung up the elevator shaft (the police calling after her), at least thirty minutes had passed. Hopefully—upon realizing that the police were swarming his house—Adrien had been barricaded away.

She really wanted to be the one to talk to him first.

And where had Chat Noir disappeared to?

Ignoring the police that continued to try and get her attention, she vaulted across Gabriel's study and out the door. Jumping to the banister along the stairs, she sprinted upward and over, deciding that the first place she would look was Adrien's bedroom.

The door was unguarded and unlocked, making it easy for her to press her way inside.

"Adrien?" she called as she walked in.

The room was dark, the night sky cloudy beyond the windows, the moon's light slightly hindered. But it was still light enough to see, and so she scanned the room.

There, sitting on the edge of Adrien's bed, was a single figure.

"Chat?" she asked, recognizing him immediately.

He didn't look up at her. In fact, it didn't even seem as though he had heard her. Hunched over, he was staring down at his hands, wholly indulged in his own thoughts.

"Chat," Ladybug said more firmly, making her way over as she did. "Have you seen Adrien?"

Still, he didn't answer. But he did twitchingly look up at her, the sight of his confused, distressed green eyes immediately jump-starting Ladybug's own concern.

"What's wrong?" she asked quickly. "Is everything okay? Are you okay? What about Adrien? Where is—"

The bright green flash of Chat's transformation disappearing was both startling and shocking, Ladybug freezing in place as her eyes went wide. But she didn't have time to look away, her gaze still zeroed in on Chat as his black suit disappeared to reveal…

Heart surging into her throat, she felt everything inside of her go numb as she stared into those familiar green eyes, both of which were now bordered in tears.

"Adrien..?"

He swallowed hard, the tears overflowing down his cheeks.

"My Lady," he struggled to say, each word sounding as though he had to pry it free from hardened concrete. "I—I'm Adrien."

He gasped helplessly, a sob ripping from his throat.

"I'm a monster."

[riftimagines]

Spirit Blossom!Thresh x Shadow Assassin!Kayn

This is literally just smut with a hint of plot. I’m not the best at writing smut but I was inspired to write this after someone, you know who you are :3, introduced me to this ship and we shared a lot of headcanons with them in different AUs but this is the one that came out. LOL. Also I recently made a A03 acc. called RiftWrites where I’m probably going to post my one shots there because Tumblr is kinda annoying with posting long stories RIP.

Warnings: Smut, Blood mentions, This has Thresh ffs XD

The smell of blood and death thickly floated in the air. The invading Noxians stood no chance against the blurry shadow that swept through the field and cleaved through them like animals for slaughter. It was like a creature from their worst nightmares but this creature was no creature but in fact, a man. The sheer speed and fluidity of his moments made him look like a living shadow, something that was created by magic and in a way was. The gifted shadow magic Sheida Kayn possessed was only enhanced further by the defeat of the Darkin scythe, Rhaast. Its defeat gave him unholy amounts of power and transformed the young man into a terrifying shadow assassin. His power showed on this day as there was more blood then grass on this once pristine grassland. Bodies lay askew where flowers once bloomed and from the corpses rose a particular bloom. A Spirit Blossom. This year was the year they had returned after thirteen years and now sadly they would leave again and with them the souls of the dead of this land both Ionian and Noxian. The sky began to fill with the blossoms of the dead Noxians and began to float away, good riddance. Now to get rid of what little was left.

In the not so far off distance a force was awakened. The sounds of lost spirits called out and from the realm of the dead came a seeker of said souls, a demon that sought to collect all the spirits and show them their true potential. Its unnatural purple skin and white hair contrasted against the natural hues of the forest. It seemed not to care as it stood out for anyone to see its vision became set as the brilliant flowers in the sky sang to collect them.

“No worries little spirits, your safe with me now.” Its reverberated voice rang out. From its left side it brought forth a lantern in the shape of a demons face almost similar to his own. A smile curled upon its lips from beneath its golden jaw plating as the Spirit Blossoms came down and closer to him. The spirits are completely unaware of what was happening when the lanterns mouth suddenly opened and began to pull all the souls into it. So many spirits to gather today, like harvesting wheat freshly cut in fact they seemed like they were. The Spirit Blossoms were fresh, very fresh, and seemed to becoming from a certain direction, interesting. Curious as to where they were coming from the demon begins to walk towards the origin of all these blossoms while gathering them a long the way. It did not take long for the purple hued evil to find the source. A battlefield, how quaint. There had been much delectable suffering and pain. Ah, if only he had heard the screams, the sweet tones of misery. As if on command of thought, the sounds of screaming and wailing called, now that was a lovely sound he could not resist. The siren sounds cried out like the most beautiful chorus and soon lead to its singers.

The bodies fell left and right as a blur of blue and darkness swooped through the poor mortals and razed them. There was no mercy, only pain just like the demon liked it. Its bright lavender eyes became transfixed at the lithe form doing a dance of death leaving blood and agony in its wake. Who was that glorious creature? It did not seem to notice the demon at the edge of the battle watching every deadly moment in awe. The dance continued for a few moments longer before the final howls of despair fluttered into nothingness. The shadow finally stops and reveals to the demon a divine looking man. He had never seen a human look so, alluring. His pale skin tattooed with dark lines that traveled from his eyes across his face, down his chest and completely engulfed his forearms. Such a lovely being, he must know more about this beauteous agent of death, no time like the present to make a blunt entrance. With a couple spins of its sickle it launches it at high speeds to the target and it snags its very soul.

Kayn is completely confused as a small scythe attached to a thick cord wraps around him. It should have been easy to cut but the cords were seemingly harder then steel and did not break, instead they pulled harder as the strangest looking fiend he’d ever seen comes flying at him. For a moment he feels panic as his powers don’t let him escape, the magic cord holds him still. No attack ever came though, just the sound of evil laughter fills his ears. He looks at the monster before him with wide eyes. What was this thing?

“How adorable, so confused and so scared. I won’t hurt you though little one. I am Thresh, collector of the Spirit Blossoms. Do not let my frightening visage fool you, I am but a humble guide to these poor spirits and bring them up to their full potential. It seems though you have found your full potential early, so tell me what are you my dear?” He coos softly. Kayn was having none of that though.

“I am Sheida Kayn, and I care not what you are monster I will not obey you!” Kayn’s scythe came barreling towards Thresh’s neck and had he been anyone else he would have been dead. The demon sighed then pulled hard on the chains sending Kayn into a tree and his scythe out of his hands.

“A feisty one aren’t you? I’m not surprised but make no mistake, I do know how to put wild spirits back in their place.” He says as he picks up the shadow assassin by the throat, pushes him against the tree and squeezes slightly. A sudden moan that catches both Kayn and Thresh off guard. A wicked grin spreads upon the demons face and Kayn seizes up. He squeezes again experimentally and again the soft moan flutters into his ears. Oh now that is a nice sound. Kayn suddenly feels fear, a feeling he had not felt in a long while, and tries to phase though the tree only to be stopped by the white cord wrapped around his waist keeping him from escaping.

“ Now, now, little pet, don’t leave so soon, we just discovered something new! Here lets make this more interesting shall we? I believe the blossoms from this field should be enough.” Suddenly the demonic lantern opens up again and the Spirit Blossoms make their way inside. It’s eyes begin to blaze and the demon removes its hand from Kayn’s throat to call upon its power. A pulse of energy burst forth from Thresh and five ghostly purple walls seemingly arise from nowhere. The more startling part wasn’t the box that surrounded them now but the fact that the demon was changing. Its dark purple skin became a light alabaster, hair a dark black with purple hues, and its horrifying mask was now replaced with a gorgeous man. It was so jarring to see something so terrifying turn into something so beautiful. Thresh smiled smugly at Kayn, no one could resist this form, perhaps now he’d get more of those lovely sounds.

“Ah, how is this? Not to bad if I do say so my self. Now where were we?” His hand returns to grasp at his neck this time though his other hand begins to graze his sharp claws down his chest. A nail catches his skin and leaves a little scratch it its wake making Kayn hiss. Thresh’s eyes glaze slightly at the sound of pain, so heavenly, he needs more. Dark purple nails trace all over Kayn’s torso leaving more cuts and scratches all over but none enough to be agonizing or lethal, Thresh is having too much fun with this one for him to die yet. Through the rough ministrations on his body Kayn’s breath had hitched and his nerves turned on to high. Every touch was doing something to him that wasn’t really pain. A tight, warm feeling starts to form in his lower abdomen. Thresh can see a redness spreading upon Kayn’s face.

“Enjoying your self? It’s rude to keep all that pleasure to yourself you know?” With unseen swiftness the small gap between them is closed and their lips are intertwined. It’s a rough and hungry kiss almost like he couldn’t get enough. Kayn had not experienced much physical affection but this was something greater then those little kisses he’d seen couples share. They are both bare chest to bare chest breathing hard into each other until Kayn could not breath. They break panting hard and Thresh’s eyes are fully glazed over and glowing deviously. In a split second his mouth is on Kayn’s exposed neck and is biting down hard. Kayn yelps loudly then goes into a deep moan as Thresh works the bite into what will be a deep dark bruise. The tight feeling rushes downward to his groin and an involuntary buck of his hips follows. The demon stops biting his neck and moves up to nip at the shell of his ear before whispering low and deep.

“Such an eager little spirit. You want me to claim you don’t you? Want me to collect your body and soul?” Kayn can’t speak the sheer amount of arousal is drowning his mind but he can feel himself nod and his hands try to pull Thresh closer. The cord unfurls its self from his waist and find new residence binding his hands instead now. Thresh raises his hands and the cord upwards to a branch to keep Kayn’s hands up.

“Yes, I know you want me but you’ll get me as I give myself to you. No sooner, no later.” He purrs lowly. With hands now bound and pinned above his head it gave the devious soul collector free reign of Kayn’s body. His talons raked across his body and mouth working anywhere that looked like a tender spot. Scratches and bruises start to decorate pale skin and leave their new owner writhing in pleasure. The firmness in his pants was agonizing, far more so then the slightly bloody cuts. Thresh was in a no better state. His normally composed visage was flustered across his face all the way to the tips of his pointed ears. His own member throbbing for attention.

Not wasting anymore time those claws were put to the test as they tore through the thick cords that held up Kayn’s pants effectively loosening and dropping them. Kayn gasps as his warm, hardened nether regions are exposed to the elements, clear fluid already seeping from the end. The demon growls deeply at the sight and is quick to rid himself of his binding clothing. Tossing them aside he strokes his manhood gently, electing a rumbling purr from his chest. Kayn can see through half lidded eyes the demons length and a shiver runs down his spine. He isn’t familiar with others genitals but he is bigger then himself by a bit and quite thick. Thresh moves in again and lifts Kayn’s hips up to line up before pushing in. Kayn’s eyes go wide at the foreign felling of being filled. He’s moaning, writhing and trying desperately to get accustomed to this new sensation. Tears start to pool and fall down his face which are then licked up by the eager demon.

“Easy now my pet, just relax. Let me handle everything.” He coos into his ear and leaves a kiss where a stray tear is falling. The pleasantries are gone in moments though as Thresh begins to move. The pace starts slow but then begins to build and soon its a quick relentless pace that leaves Kayn completely breathless. His whole body feels limp as if all his strength has left him, the strength of the demon alone is the only thing keeping him up. Every harsh thrust seems to hit a spot that has his eyes rolling back and him moaning and gasping loudly. The sounds and the sensation of Kayn tightening around him sends Thresh on a marking spree, covering as much skin as he can into deep colors. It’s all so much for Kayn and in a moment of bliss his sight blurs and he can finally feel himself release. He can hear a deep animalistic growl and for a few seconds his hips are grabbed so hard he swore the bone would bruise as Thresh rams into him sending Kayn’s blurred vision into pure white and his hearing completely gone. The whole world fades for who knows how long before his vision is restored and the demon is slowly pulling out of him. He now hangs there on the tree limply, unable to will his now exhausted muscles to move even an inch. A whine escapes him as Thresh fixes himself up.

“Now, now, I know you miss me. I’ll get to you in a moment.” He places his clothing back into place and almost seems like nothing happened to him at all. He goes to the side of the tree and binds the forgotten scythe to his back before coming around and pulling Kayn’s pants back up. As soon as the cord to the sickle is removed Kayn drops like a rock right into Thresh’s arms. His body is too weak to fight him off and lets his head lull onto the demons shoulder. He smiles down at the tired human in his arms and places a small kiss upon his crown.

“You may rest now dear. I won’t let anything happen to you. Your mine now you know, nothing will take you from me and you certainly won’t get away from me from now on. So get used to being where you are for your going to be there for the rest of eternity.” He says all too gleefully while holding him tightly. Kayn thinks for a moment of what he’s done. He’s now bound to a soul taking demon, but a soul taking demon that has given him more attention in about an hour then he’s received in his entire life. Thats not entirely to bad he thinks. He looks up at the handsome face that looks down at him with a smirk and dips down to place another kiss, this time to his lips, that’s most certainly something he could get used to.

[brain-jarred]

Prologue, part 1

BREAKING NEWS Miracle Heroes Save Town from Unexpected Catastrophe August 19, 1989 

Today, our city experienced an event like no other—a giant, mutated squid attacked the city, shocking the people and sending the town into chaos. The squid seemed bent on attacking the people, who all tried to escape as it wrecked buildings and crawled its way through the streets, separating families.

 It seemed like it would be an impossible thing to defeat, as no human had ever encountered such a beast. However, today, a miracle occurred. While everyone in the town was running for their lives, five brave souls came to the town’s rescue. 

Being on the scene myself, I was stunned as I watched these five heroes come together with unique abilities I’d never seen before. I documented everything I could from the battle in hopes of sharing just how unique and incredible of an experience it was: The five heroes seemed to show no fear against the gigantic squid as it shrieked and threw its tentacles around at them. I watched a tall, green-skinned creature run circles around the squid at an unnaturally fast speed—I could hardly see them at all. This frustrated the squid, causing it to continue letting out horrible shrieks as it tried to keep up with him. Another one of the heroes, a rather muscular hero, used what appeared to be super strength to grab onto the squid’s tentacles and hold them down, making it harder for the squid to attack the heroes and cause even more destruction to the city. 

Meanwhile, another hero, a red-head with scruffy hair, appeared to use a deep red liquid to blind the squid, making it all the more difficult. The final two heroes, who appeared to be twin heroes, as they were wearing the same deep blue costumes and had the same dark, curly hair, seemed to be levitating objects at their command. At first, they were levitating chunks of buildings to help hold down the squid’s legs, but once the squid was subdued, they switched to using a long strand of wire from a telephone pole nearby to tie the squid, making it impossible for the squid to attack at all and ultimately defeating it. 

The people of the city were absolutely shocked. Nearby, I could see mothers with their children, the mothers looking incredibly worried as they tried to comfort their babies, but the young children looked something even more than inspired. Superheroes, as I had always thought, were supposed to be stories for children of that age, but now, I’m learning that they’re more than that. With whatever that monstrosity that attacked our city today was supposed to be, I’ve learned that superheroes are indeed very real, and I’m sure this won’t be the last we’ll see of them. I feel honored to have caught one of the heroes in the blue suits. He informed me that his name is Justice, and his teammates include Hemo-girl the blood manipulator, Atlas-man the strong, his twin who shared his ability, Clarity, and Vrain, an alien creature with inhuman speed. According to Justice, this group of heroes will not be leaving us anytime soon. Together, the five heroes make up the Meteor brigade, and theyre here to protect our city.

BREAKING NEWS Anniversary of the Meteor Brigade’s Formation August 19, 1990 

Today marks the anniversary of the Meteor Brigade’s first rescue of our city and their continued work to keep our city out of harm’s way. Just today, I watched from the sidelines as they fought a mutant pigeon. I watched its huge wings batter as the Meteor Brigade worked flawlessly to contain it. Vrain worked to get innocent civilians out of risk, saving kids that had ventured curiously towards the team of heroes and other people who could not save themselves. 

Meanwhile, the rest of the heroes worked together with smiles on their faces and laughing gleefully as they easily subdued the pigeon, eventually causing it to be lying on the ground with its wings around itself while the five team members stood in front of it, looking triumphant. Over the past year, the team of heroes has been idolized, with many people of all ages showing their support for them through posters and parades and other events. Recently, a mural was completed on one of the walls of the city buildings. It is a mural of the Meteor Brigade with all five members looking upward. Behind them is a background that looks like outer space, and above their heads written in fluid cursive, it says “Thank you Meteor Brigade!” with a heart afterwards. 

Though the Meteor Brigade was at first hesitant to say much in public, they have grown since then, with some of the heroes even coming to school to proclaim how anyone can be a hero, even if they’re not a superhero like the ones from the Meteor Brigade. I myself attended one of these conferences, which Justice, the leader of the group, was speaking at, to hear the words for myself, and I found them to be quite endearing and well-chosen. 

I could see kids’ eyes were wide at the sight of one of the Meteor Brigade superheroes speaking to them, and afterward, it took all of the teachers’ efforts to keep them from swarming the poor hero. It has become quite clear that we are very lucky as a people to have the Meteor Brigade among us. Without them, we would be practically defenseless against the horrifying beasts that have come to plague the world.

 It was announced recently that research is being done on the mutated creatures to find out why they keep coming to existence and attacking the town, but nothing has been found just yet. While we wait to find out more about the horrifying creatures, we should all give our huge thanks to the Meteor Brigade for one whole year of repeated rescuing of our city and saving of lives. It was a miracle that they came to us on this day one year ago, and it is a miracle that we still have them now. Thank you, Meteor Brigade, for being so brave and saving all of us from unimaginable destruction. We couldn’t possibly thank you enough for your contributions to the protection of our town, but we can try our very best. Come attend the Meteor Brigade anniversary parade on Main Street this Friday! Admission is free!

BREAKING NEWS Meteor Brigade Named Public Heroes, Ceremony this Saturday May 7, 1991 

After once again saving our town from another mutant creature—this time a mutant pig—the Meteor Brigade is finally receiving an honor they more than deserve. Just a few hours after the large animal was subdued, the mayor held a conference that was aired on the local news station where he declared that the Meteor Brigade has done more for our city than anyone has ever done for perhaps any city in the world, and he named the five Public Heroes, a declaration that was met with much applause and cheering from his audience.

 The mayor addressed the last two years of the team’s rescues with a smile on his face and gratitude in his tone, saying that the five were all blessings from a higher power, and even if we don’t know much about the mutant creatures, we are lucky to have the Meteor Brigade and their unique abilities to keep us safe from them. 

According to recent research, it has been found that the mutant creatures appear to be normal animals with altered DNA, but so far, no one has found out how these creatures’ DNA have been becoming altered. There are theories that include a secret mastermind capturing animals, experimenting with them, and releasing them, and even theories about the mutant creatures being alien lifeforms, but no proof of these theories has been found just yet. I tried to ask Clarity what she thought of this theory when I came across her earlier today, and all she had to tell me was that it could be a possibility, but she and the rest of the team are unsure and need some time to do their own research.

 I asked her if she thought that they would eventually have an answer for why the mutant creatures were rising, and she told me that there must be an answer out there somewhere, and the Meteor Brigade was determined to find it for the good of humanity. Hopefully, with the combined efforts of scientists and the team of heroes, we can have an answer for this mysterious phenomenon that has been wreaking havoc to the city. Even with the looming though that someone could be causing such massive destruction on purpose, it is time to take a brief break from chaos to celebrate. As the conference was too soon after the Meteor Brigade’s most recent rescue, they could not attend, but they have been invited by the mayor to come to a celebration on Saturday to officially receive a token of thanks from him. The ceremony will be at the local park, and there is a $5 per person admission fee. 

There will be food, art, rides, and most importantly, the Meteor Brigade themselves. It is unknown if the Meteor Brigade will be allowed around the general public due to their status as celebrities in the city, but they will all be able to be seen walking onstage to receive their honors from the mayor. Don’t miss this big event! Come to the ceremony to give the Meteor Brigade the thanks and honor they deserve—it will be a spectacle to behold, just like everything else the superhero team does.

[thebladeblaster]

Pokémon: the Vanguard Descends The Movie: Celebi Lost In Time (part 1)

Aichi’s current team

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Many years ago Arceus foretold that his messiah would appear as the offspring of Gin Gaillard…

“Subject 003v. The human to Pokémon ratio in his dna is perfect. As well the programming has been perfectly calibrated to account for his power. As for his power he is far stronger than our previous two successes in project Psyqualia.”, Ryuzu said.

Gin touched the tube with his hand looking at his recently born son: A familiar blue haired boy with blue eyes. He looked back at his father.

“003v is the one who will fulfill our ambition. The perfect life form who will allow us to finally take over the world and defeat that infernal god, Arceus. You understand right my son?”, Gin said, smirking.

However, much to the terror of the world and the mistake of Arceus he told Gin this. Thus Gin decided to take control of destiny and the messiah. Instead of being Arceus’s avatar to fulfill his will he turned him into his avatar to fulfill his will upon the world, Team Asteroid ultimate weapon, the strongest creation of project Psyqualia, the ultimate despair, the anti-messiah, 003v...

Emi rode as fast as she could on the back of a Galarian Rapidash. She looked a bit older than she should be, looking more in her teens. By her side flew a girl with vibrant red hair and red cat-like eyes. She wore a yellow and orange dress with a big yellow hat and red shoes. She had glowing white angelic wings. Riding upon a Corvknight by their side was a shadowed figure and weirdly Suiko.

They flinched as they heard explosions in the background they hurried as fast as they could through the greenery.

“Come on Kai, Miwa, Kamui, Kyou, *static*! You’ve gotta buy us the time we need!”, the figure grumbled.

“Your fools if you think you have anytime without Team Asteroid’s permission.”, they all froze and paled in fear as they heard a familiar voice.

Descending down in front of them covered in a murky dark blue aura and rainbow spirals in his eyes was none other than 003v. Like Emi he looked a bit older for some reason. He wore a long black general-like coat lined with red. The side of the shoulders had a yellow part hanging off. Underneath was some sort of white zipped up top. He wore grey pants and long white boots. He had a belt similar to his father’s with a red A. His arms were crossed, his expression had a bit of annoyance and exasperation. He simply raised his pointer finger sending a blast of energy that stopped their mounts and the flying girl in their tracks, a dark blue aura and two intersecting rings surrounded them, binding them. The rings were pitch black with an ominous red along the edge.

“Absolute lock!”, 003v said as he binded the girl and the other Pokémon.

“Stop this 003v!”, Emi pleaded as 003v turned his gaze to her, his expression looking a bit softer when he looked over to her.

“I should be telling you the same thing Emi. Seriously rebelling like this? It must be another teenage phase. Come on, it’s time to come home Emi.”, 003v replied as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Stop treating me like this is simply a phase! Team Asteroid isn’t protecting anyone! It’s merely an authoritarian power controlling the world!”, Emi replied, very red.

003v nearly scoffed at this.

“Wait, but he’s here does that mean he…?”, Suiko questioned.

“Oh, yes your so-called god is dead. You know, for the battle that had been hyped up my whole life it was rather disappointing.”, 003v answered smugly.

They all looked completely horrified.

“You killed Arceus!? You're supposed to be the messiah! The one who was supposed to bring peace to the world! How could you!?”, the winged girl questioned.

“I have brought peace to the world. Ever since I enabled Team Asteroid’s take over of the world there had been no wars, disasters, or conflict. Not until you tricked my sister and tried to mess everything up.”, 003v replied with his voice full of venom, glaring at the winged girl.

His presence that had been restrained before was leaking out. They felt themselves choking from his oppressive aura. It made them feel like bowing and groveling for forgiveness at his feet. If they had weaker wills they would be doing so. It was so impossibly strong and seemingly infinite that they shook. They knew internally that no being could defeat this monster, but they tried anyway.

“Hey idiot! Can’t you get it through your thick skull that you’re on the bad guy side!?”, the shadowed figure said as he got in front of 003v dismounting the Corviknight.

003v completely ignored him as if he wasn’t even there focusing his attention on Emi. The shadow figure growled at this enraged that he was being ignored like this. He raised his fist and Suiko looked very panicked.

“*static* I don’t think that’s a good idea! You’ll only piss him off!”, Suiko warned.

The figure didn’t listen, punching 003v which was also ignored. He threw a punch and heard a loud crackle as his fist bent at an unnatural angle and blood tripped from it. He fell to his knees howling in pain clutching his fist.

“*static*!”, All of them minus 003v and the figure cried out.

003v looked completely unfazed by this, single mindedly focused on Emi. The figure growled throwing out a master ball revealing the seed of destruction; Yveltal. 003v still didn’t seem to care, even with the destruction legendary right next to him. He simply didn’t fear it or seemingly anyone or anything else. What should an ultimate life form have to fear?

“I’ll keep this bastard at bay!”, the shadowed figure said.

This made 003v break into uncontrollable laughter.

“Oh so you can hear me you bastard! Grieon use oblivion wing!”, the figure ordered angrily.

“You think you’ll stop me. That’s cute. You people never learn do you?”, 003v replied.

Emi took this chance to slip by paling as 003v was hit by the red light shot by the legendary, only to look untouched. The others remaining gaped in disbelief as 003v stood in the crater created by the destruction Pokémon‘a attack unfazed. He casually looked over his coat.

“Dang. You couldn’t even ruffle my coat, this is going to be so boring.”, 003v groaned.

“You arrogant prick! Oblivion wing!”, the shadowed figure replied as Grieon fire at him again.

They gasped as 003v walked through the blast like it wasn’t even there.

“Man you're so weak. I’ll just have Imaginary Plane deal with you so I can pick up Emi.”, 003v said, talking as if the legendary was merely a minor inconvenience.

003v threw out a Poké ball revealing a Haxorus who smiled sinisterly at Grieon.

“Not her!”, the winged girl called out.

003v turned his back to leave as the Haxorus fired scales at the legendary. Grieon raises up its wings in defense. Loud bangs could be heard as the scales bombarded Grieon’s wings.

“Arceus was wrong about you! You're not the messiah! Your pure evil the opposite to the messiah! The anti-messiah!”, the winged girl yelled venting all her frustrations in tears.

003v just smirked at this.

“As I said before I am the messiah. I brought peace to the world as Arceus desired.”, 003v replied, holding out one of his hands and gesturing with it.

“You're so brainwashed you can’t tell the difference between right and wrong! What you’ve done subjugating the entire world! Taking away everyone’s choice! Having them live in fear! That’s wrong! ”, the winged girl yelled.

“Pfft. I’m brainwashed, sure. Emi completely changing her mind about Team Asteroid after years was totally natural.”, 003v replied sarcastically.

The winged girl fumed with anger glaring at him. The shadow figure growled as Grieon was losing ground.

“Haxorus! Haxorus! Haxorus! Haxorus! Haxorus! Haxorus! (You can’t lose yet! I’m still having fun!)”, Imaginary Plane said.

003v suddenly froze, realizing something. He looked around seeing Emi was out of sight now.

“You're stalling me.”, 003v growled with annoyance.

“Of course.”, the winged girl replied.

003v took a step forward, seeming to disappear to them. Emi jumped hiding something in her arms as 003v seemed to appear in front of her. Emi backed away a bit as he walked forward.

“It’s time to come home Emi. Stop this nonsense.”, 003v said, outstretching his hand to Emi.

Emi turned away as 003v frowned.

“I wish…I wish things didn’t have to be like this. I wish you could be the kind person you naturally are. I wish...we could have lived together with mom, happily far away from dad.”, Emi said quietly with tears in her eyes tightening the grip of whatever was in her arms.

003v narrowed his eyes.

“You know that can never…”, 003v trailed off, freezing as could see a yellow cloth-like appendage sticking out not covered by Emi.

She looked up at 003v, her brother who for the first time in a long time looked genuinely panicked. His eyes widened in shock Emi’s arms revealed what was in her arms as he shook in tears. It was Jirachi, the wish Pokémon. 003v quickly faster than humans could ever comprehend thrusted his hand forward at Jirachi. He sweated nervously as he realized it was too late the eye on its belly had opened.

Light enveloped everything and the winged girl was released from her binds being swept away by the light.

“Emi!!”, she called out as she held her hand out as she was swept away.

The next scene showed Shizuka holding an infant Emi and Takuto standing before her. Shizuka’s eyes widened with complete disbelief and betrayal as she read the hacked information about her son and Team Asteroid.

“I know you may not trust me Shizuka Dou. But, something that is an irrefutable truth that I have revealed to you is that your son is alive. And your husband hid that fact from you. You must realize the kind of man your husband has become and leave here with your children.”, Takuto said.

She just wanted her babies to be safe so she nodded. Takuto disappeared for a brief moment teleporting before reappearing in a few minutes with an unconscious boy. He had blue hair and blue eyes. He wore a grey dress shirt and pants with black shoes. It was 003v, only 3 years old. Shizuka instantly grabbed hold of her unconscious child holding him close to her chest along with an infant Emi.

“We have to go now. Grab a hold of my hand.”, Takuto said urgently.

“Get him!”, Gin yelled from behind the door.

In a flash Shizuka was gone with her children to the small region known as Kakusa. She calmed down the crying baby Emi. She still held 003v close to her chest as well.

“I’ve altered his memories. As far as he’s concerned he’s been raised by his single mother and that you fled Galar with him and his sister to escape Team Asteroid.”, Takuto explained.

“You messed with his head?!”, Shizuka questioned, glaring at Takuto.

“Trust me it’s better that he doesn’t remember. You remember what you read right? How Gin had been raising him?”, Takuto replied.

“I know but…”, Shizuka trailed off as she looked down.

“Wait, what about his name? Isn’t his name being 003v a bit suspicious?”, Shizuka questioned.

“What do you want his name to be?”, Takuto asked as he held his fingers up to Aichi’s head.

Shizuka froze remembering the name she had originally thought up for him.

“Aichi...I want his name to be Aichi. It has many meanings including love, wisdom and...light of hope. Also, I don’t want to find it easily so our last name will now be Sendou.”, Shizuka replied.

An aura flashed around Takuto as 003v now was named Sendou Aichi. To further distance themselves from Gin they said their names like those in Kakusa did with their family name first.

She finally got to sit down when they got to PSY Sweets and she would stay there till she found a place to live. She was rather anxious as Aichi gained consciousness after sleeping soundly in the room’s bed. She held in a deep breath as Aichi stirred, rubbing his eyes in confusion. He looked over to Shizuka who held Emi in her arms. Emi roused from her sleep laying her eyes on her brother for this first time.

“...mom? Where are we?”, were the first words she heard her son say groggily.

She froze as he heard her son call her mom for the first time, forgetting to breathe. She also noted his noticeable Galatian accent like her own and Gin’s. To blend in further in Kakusa she would later make him hide it till eventually he lost his accent all together.

“We’ve made it to Kakusa, Aichi. We’re in PSY Sweets.”, Shizuka replied, finally remembering to breathe.

Aichi looked around tiredly in a way that reminded her of Gin in the morning. The physical resemblance he had to Gin added to it though he had Shizuka’s colors.

“Oh okay…”, Aichi replied, half asleep.

He crawled over to Emi who looked over at him curiously in her arms. Emi giggled as he came near and Aichi smiled.

“I’m glad Emi’s alright.”, Aichi said as Shizuka felt a very warm feeling in her chest.

Later after they had found a home in Sanctuary town. Aichi had a fateful encounter with a certain someone.

Aichi walked along the street wearing a blue shirt, black shorts and a backpack. He had scuff marks and a bandage on his face. He looked down sadly walking back home. Tears were stinging his eyes and he was recently used as a punching bag by the local bullies again.

He stopped when felt someone wipe away his tears. It was Ahmes as Ralts with him was a younger version of Kai.

“Ralts! (Don’t be sad!)”, Ahmes said, wiping away his tears.

Kai looked equally stunned by the Pokémon’s action before smiling.

“Ahmes seems to have really taken a liking to you.”, Kai said laughing a bit.

“O-oh this is your Pokémon?”, Aichi asked.

“Yeah, but I think it should stay with you now it seems like you need it a bit more.”, Kai said.

“T-there’s no way I c-“, Aichi stuttered.

“It’s fine I got other Pokémon. Besides I have a feeling that together the two of you will be able to get real strong.”, the young Kai replied, patting Aichi’s back.

Later…

Aichi smiled as he and the Ralts, Ahmes played tag together. He had never had friends to do this with so he didn’t realize you were supposed to have more people play. They both chuckled as they laid in the grass.

Many years later Aichi met Kai again and finally got to battle him after he moved all those years ago. He miraculously beat the experienced trainer and promised to battle him again one day. This was the start of Sendou Aichi’s adventure through Kakusa. On his journey he met various people, many who had become his friends. He fought Team Asteroid liberating Megacolony town, Kagero town, Grandblue city, Oracle town, Tachikaze town, Palesville, Dai city, Sanctuary town, and eventually the league from its control. He trained with Alfred and Takuto to defeat them. With Kamui he battled Kyou. With Kamui and Kourin he fought Asuka and he later fought Tetsu alone. He battled Ren after defeating the elite four, saving the region and becoming champion. Afterwards a huge party was thrown in Sanctuary town with people from across the region joining in. Then, Mamoru who had recently been freed from Team Asteroid’s prison was sent by the Kakusa government to determine if he was truly on their side. He passed and was accepted by the government. For Christmas Aichi went above and beyond as a champion to make everyone happy. So, for him Emi and his friends came together to give him a happy Christmas. Finally, when the day came he finally fought Kai as a rival and equal. Kai left to help those outside the region suffering from Team Asteroid and they vowed to meet again one day. Aichi would stay to protect Kakusa as the champion.

A couple of weeks after Aichi and Kai’s battle…

Aichi’s current team

Level 78 Ahmes (Gallade) psychic/fighting

Moves:

Close combat

Solar blade

Swords dance

Future Sight

Level 76 Wingal (Lycanroc (dusk)) rock

Moves:

Stealth rock

Crunch

Stone edge

Play rough

Level 74 Llew (Golisopod) water/bug

Moves:

Sucker punch

Blizzard

Liquidation

First impression

Level 75 Gancelot (Lucario) fighting/steel

Moves:

Focus blast

Stone edge

Meteor mash

Dragon pulse

Level 80 Soul Saver (Haxorus) dragon

Moves:

Outrage

Iron tail

Dragon dance

Scale shot

Level 100 Alfred (Aegislash) ghost/steel

Moves:

Sacred sword

King’s shield

Iron head

Shadow Claw

Emi opened up Aichi’s door looking annoyed as Aichi was still in bed fast asleep when he’s supposed to go to school.

“Man that dream was so stupid. My idiot brother could never be a super villain like that. It was probably because of all the crazy stuff we were told recently that I had it. I mean come on, brushing off an attack from a legendary? Killing god? Taking over the world?That has to be an exaggeration.”, Emi thought, shaking Aichi to wake him up.

“Five more minutes…”, Aichi groaned sleepily.

“You don’t have five minutes! If you don’t get your butt up you’ll be late!”, Emi yelled, causing Aichi to groggily get up.

[andiandyandee]

We Are Going To Be Friends Pt 13 (The End)

Fuck. Fuck me sideways I made myself cry writing this and I’m upset and feel free to yell at me in my asks because I deserve it because FUCK. 

Tag List: @datfearlessfangirl​ @princemesscharming​ @illogicalthinking​ @holliberries​

Here’s The Series on Ao3 | Here’s the Last Part | Here’s the First Part

I’m actually very sorry, but here’s the last chapter:

     “Listen, We are living in what can only be described as the future. The first probe to enter into orbit around Mercury, they just found a tiny Moon orbiting Pluto! They found like, dozens of planets within the “Habitable Zone”. Fermi’s paradox can kiss my ass, we’re absolutely about to find aliens.”

     “Great, Buzz-Kill Aldrin. Now will you stand still? We have a practice dinner for your brother’s wedding in like, a week, and if you don’t stop moving this damn suit is never going to be tailored properly.”

     “I don’t know why I can’t just wear it like it was, anyway. It was fine.” Logan gave Roman a look that was both a pout and a glare.

     “Babe, I love you, but if you think this thing fits fine I’m gonna have to take you to get new glasses. It barely touches you.” 

     “You didn’t say anything about it not fitting me when I bought it!”

     “You’ve lost twenty pounds since you bought it, so I can’t imagine why it doesn’t fit you.” Remus’s voice snarked from the doorway. “Really, who could guess as to why it looks two sizes too big. Must have grown in the wash.” Logan groaned, and Roman swatted at him to keep him from moving.

     “It isn’t my fault I’m losing weight again. Why must I be punished?”

     “This isn’t a punishment you drama queen-” Logan kicked Roman’s shin “Ow! Stop! Moving!” Logan just smirked in response. “But you won’t let us buy you a new one, so we have to get this one to fix you like it’s supposed to. Unless you plan on gaining weight before the thirteenth.” Logan pouted, but let Roman continue pinning the jacket. Once they had finished, Roman allowed Logan to take it off and relax, which immediately led to him debating Remus on which space discovery in the last seven months had been the best. 

     And then, right as Logan began to argue with Remus’s frankly very good point that sending probes to mercury was cooler because it was something done actively, rather than just spotting something, Logan’s phone rang. It was his mother, so he rolled his eyes and declined the call. He hadn’t even gotten a word out before it rang again, and he groaned loudly before answering.

     “What, Mother?” He spat out the question as if it was a curse, and Roman and Remus both wrinkled their noses when they realized who it was. Their expressions turned to panic when Logan went ghostly pale at whatever she said, and bolted from the room. 

     They found him outside, about two blocks from the house, among commotion of a car accident. They both looked at what almost certainly used to be a car but now resembled a pretzel in shape and a burning scrap pile in everything else, and looked at Logan, who was screaming and trying to get past the cops towards the crash. Fire fighters, cops, and an ambulance all had sirens blaring, and Logan was still yelling when they pulled who could only be Larry out of what remained of the car. Roman nearly fainted, and Remus let out a hollow cry, but their reactions were nothing compared to Logan’s, who took one look at what was left of his brother, burned skin and scraps of a purple jacket stained red, both legs bent at unnatural angles and just barely breathing, and he immediately stopped fighting. The cops who were holding him back seemed to be completely supporting his weight as they lowered him to the ground. Even through the abrasive lights, the twins could see the way Logan had gone from milk pale to grey, the only color left in him the blotchy red on his face, and he was crying, mumbling something that they couldn’t hear from where they stood. The cop looked up and saw them, waving them over insistently. Larry- or perhaps his body- had been put in the ambulance, and it had sped away. By the time Roman and Remus reached Logan, another paramedic was kneeling in front of him, trying to get him to focus. Logan was staring blankly towards the spot the ambulance had been, and now that they were closer they could hear his mumbling, which turned out to just be “That’s my brother” over and over. 

     When they made it to the hospital, Logan’s parents were already there. The police had called them, and offered to drive Logan to the hospital to meet them there, but Roman had declined, and taken Logan back to the house to put on shoes and a jacket before Mr. Sanders had driven them there. As soon as they stepped through the doorway, Mrs. Starr had burst into tears, and grabbed Logan. Remus and Roman were frankly too busy being surprised that she didn’t reek of cheap liquor to be surprised that Logan hugged her back. 

     Logan explained, in the car, that His mother had called to make sure Larry had made it to the Sander’s house, because she heard from a neighbor that there had been an accident on the road Larry would have taken. Logan had of course, presumed the worst, and despite his pessimism rarely being accurate, it had been this one time. Now, though, all Remus could think about what it would mean for Logan if Larry didn’t pull through. Roman was on the phone with Dot, who was supposed to be picking up her veil, explaining as gently as he could what had happened, and Logan’s father was stock still, standing with his wife and son and just barely shaking. 

     A doctor came through the doors, and at the pale and defeated look on his face, the three Starrs all held an identical look of horror. Roman felt sick as the doctor apologized, and his voice broke when he told Dot not to come. He told her to go home, and he apologized, and he hung up. He had barely put the phone in his pocket when Logan wrapped his arms around Roman’s neck, tucked his head into his shoulder, and whispered brokenly “He didn’t make it” before Roman felt him collapse. Roman held him, supporting his weight and gently moving to the sofa, and he only briefly registers that Logan’s parent’s actually seem totally okay with the contact, neither looking put out at all, which shocks him if only because he expects them to have no redeeming qualities. They sat near Roman and Logan, and didn’t quite acknowledge anything, and the waiting room mourned in near perfect silence.

     Logan was packing his clothes while Roman tried to convince him he didn’t need to leave, that he could stay with them as long as he needed, but it was a battle already lost. Logan hadn’t spoken, hadn't eaten, and had hardly slept since they returned home from the hospital three nights prior, and when his mother had called, asking him to come, he simply mumbled ‘of course’ and started packing. Roman didn’t know what to do, had no idea how to help as Logan moved mechanically around the room. 

     “I know you feel like you need to be there, Lo, but I don’t know if that’s a great idea. You were on such bad terms, and being in that house can’t be good for you. Please, just stay one more night, and Dad can drive you there in the morning.” Roman was nearly begging at this point, uneasy with the thought of being away from Logan right now. Logan only shook his head, and smiled sadly at Roman.

     “She’s right, Ro. I need to go home.” 

     When Roman heard that, heard Logan refer to what had always been his ‘parent’s house’ as home, he knew that whatever fire and spite had kept Logan going for so long had fizzled to nothing more than smoke. So when his boyfriend, who looked less and less like a person and more like a walking corpse every minute lifted his bag and pecked him on the cheek before leaving, Roman let him go.

[fortune-fool02]

Not Like Him

Vampire Kakyoin Noriaki x female reader

Requested by: anonymous

Warning: angst, bit of fluff

I love vampire Kakyoin. This is pretty long, I got carried away. Please enjoy. 

Upon the discovery that using Dio’s blood could bring Mr Joestar back to life, without affecting in any way, Jotaro saw the possible chance to use it with Kakyoin and save his life as well. 

So when they brought Kakyoin -who was clinging onto life by a hair-thread- he was wired up and the transfusion began. 

However, there was a flaw. Kakyoin Noriaki was not Joseph Joestar. Kakyoin was not a Hamon user. And that one simple fact costed him much more than anyone believed.

***

Kakyoin’s lavender eyes creaked open, his mind spinning in a foggy mist as he tried to sit up only to collapse back down. The heavy smell of medicine and sanitary products filled his nose, making him cringe at the intensity of it. Shadows danced around the room, crawling around the barrier of light casted by the small lamp on the bedside table next to him.

Blinking the vertigo away, Kakyoin tried again to sit up, this time, succeeding. Pale walls with a matching floor, both spotless aside from a few pictures of nature to give a warm feeling in the blank room. The curtains were closed, blocking out the outside world completely; however, he could assume it was night from the lack of light pressing against the curtains. 

Glancing to his side, he saw a handful of blood bags hanging there with their tubes stuck into his arms; an oxygen tank also stood by it. Did... did they do it? Did they actually defeat Dio? His mind was still foggy but Kakyoin remembered battling Dio. His Hierophant Green surrounding the blonde vampire with no escape route, he was trapped. But then, suddenly, his was sent flying into a water tower with a gaping hole in his abdomen. 

His eyes fell down to where the wound was and confusion flooded his body. The wound was... mostly healed? There were still traces of raw flesh where the skin had not fully healed but the wound appeared to be months old. How long has he been unconscious?

The clock on the wall across from him read 5th January 1987. How? It was only been a few days, according to the clock, how could his wound heal so quickly? Raising his hand up, he removed the oxygen mask from around his face and sighed softly. 

Something sharp brushed against his bottom lip as he did. Confusion nipped at the red-haired male, bringing his hand up to search for anything sharp in his mouth. A small gasp was heard when his fingers were pricked, small droplets of blood seeping from the cut. Kakyoin watched, eyes wide with disbelief, as the cut sealed itself up just as quickly as he got it, leaving no trace of it ever being there. What? 

His fingers brushed along his teeth and felt his heart clench when he felt the sharpness of his canines. Unnaturally sharp... for a human to have. His breathing grew sharp and shallow, throwing the blankets off his body and ripping the tubes and wires from his arms, before rushing to the bathroom connected to the room. 

He stared at his reflection. His skin was paler than it should have been, no where close to being his natural, healthy peach colour it should be. A faint dim glow radiated from his lavender eyes that swirled with fear at the situation. Slowly, he opened his mouth to reveal fangs. This... This was impossible. H-How was he a...? Kakyoin’s gaze shifted to the blood bags that hung beside his bed, swaying gently as if taunting him. Did they use Dio’s...?

No. No, no, no! This had to be a nightmare. Kakyoin was not a vampire and he was going to wake up any second now; oh, if only that was the case. Kakyoin knew that this was, sadly, no nightmare. 

He plopped down on the bed again, his head hung down as he looked at his nails that were not sharper, much like how Dio’s was. Dio. That name hung over Kakyoin like a dark cloud, drowning out any other thought. After everything that monster did to him, after all the horror he has forced them all to endure, Kakyoin was no better. 

What would [Name] think? Knowing that her lover was now the same monster that Dio was? What of Jotaro and Mr Joestar? Would they try and kill him? So many questions spilled into his mind, blurring his vision as tears began to build up and trickle down his cheeks. He wanted to be rid of Dio, and now a part of that bastard lived on inside of him. Why? Why him of all people? 

The door opened but he did not hear it, his mind drowning out the world around him. “Kakyoin.” [Name]’s voice ripped him from his suffocating thoughts, his eyes wide at her presence. What was she doing here? 

Her arms wrapped around him, holding him close but careful not to injure him further. “I was so worried about you. We thought we were too late.” Her voice was soft, warm. Kakyoin wanted to wrap his arms around her and beg her to tell him this was all not real, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. 

She pulled back slightly, [Eye colour] eyes flicking from his dimly glowing eyes to his mouth, widening slightly at the glimpse of the fangs hidden behind his lips. “Oh my God.” she whispered, pulling away from him. Kakyoin’s hand reached out and grasped onto her shirt tightly. 

“[Name], please. Don’t leave me here. Don’t leave me like this.” he begged, his voice cracking under the fear that weighed him down. He couldn’t be alone. The flickering fear faded from her eyes, replacing itself with concern for her lover. Her hands gently cupped his face, 

“W-What happened? This didn’t happen with Mr Joestar.” She questioned to no one. She knew using Dio’s blood was a bad idea; but it was the only option they had to bringing Kakyoin back from the brink of death. However, that came with the price of his humanity. 

The tears welled up in Kakyoin’s lavender eyes, trickling down his pale cheeks. [Name] pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him in an attempt to calm him. 

“I-I don’t w-want to be l-like.... h-h-him.” he chocked out through his sobs, burying his face into her shoulder, not wanting [Name] to look at him but -at the same time- not wanting to be alone. Her heart beated softly in her chest, he could easily hear it now. A calming sound that filled his head, pushing away all the twisted thoughts. 

“Kakyoin Noriaki.” she said firmly with her soft tone, “You are nothing like Dio. You are not even close to being the monster he was.” Kakyoin pulled away from her, forcing her to look at him,

“How am I not like him?” he asked, his face twisted with disbelief and heart-ache, he was lost, confused and afraid. Very afraid. [Name] brought her hand to his cheek, her skin warm against his. 

“Because you have your humanity, Kakyoin.” she told him, “You have a heart that beats within your chest, you want to keep your friends safe. You are everything Dio never was.” As she spoke, Kakyoin felt his shoulders slump as he leaned into her hand. 

“i love you, Kakyoin. I always will.” Her lips pressed against his gently, proving to him that she was not afraid of him possibly attacking her. And even if he did, she would not hate him for it. She pulled away and Kakyoin latched onto her again, [Name] rubbed his back in a comforting way. 

They would find a way to help him. There had to be a way to help him.