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goldenavenger02 · 3 years

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my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand

5 times Zane took care of the team and 1 time the team took care of Zane

•••

"You three are brothers now, and will become stronger together. But for now, you must get acquainted with each other." Sensei's words rang in Zane's head as he made his way into the kitchen of the monastery.

While Jay had been somewhat easy to get introduced to, with his passion for robotics and his tendency to talk, they had become close very quickly.

Cole, however, was a bit harder to speak to; Zane could tell that Cole was a good person, as he was extremely loyal to Sensei even though he had just started his training under him, but he was also closed off to Jay and Zane.

And while he didn't know why, Zane had a feeling it was more so due to some sort of pain in his past, and not him viewing himself and Jay as lower than him.

Which is why Zane was now in the kitchen; he could never quite place exactly why, but he always felt at peace when he was cooking. Something about making something out of nothing was soothing to him.

But before he had decided what exactly he was going to make, that's when Cole came in, a look of longing across his face.

"Hello, Cole," Zane greeted, offering him a smile, but it faded when Cole stiffened, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's alright, just startled me," Cole insisted, the look of longing came back before he asked, "are you making anything specific?"

"I have not decided. Do you have a request?" Zane asked, trying to read Cole's face.

"Can you make cake? Vanilla cake?"

"Absolutely," Zane smiled, going to grab the ingredients before asking, his back turned to Cole, "are we celebrating something, or is it just cake?"

He heard Cole take in a deep breath, almost as if he was trying to avoid crying, which didn't make much sense, since from what he knew, cake was never for sad things.

Zane turned around to see Cole staring at the counter before he responded.

"Yeah, it's…" he swallowed before locking eyes with Zane, "it would have been my mom's birthday. She passed away a few months ago."

"I am sorry for your loss, Cole." Zane spoke softly, unsure of how best to comfort someone he didn't know very well.

The room went quiet for a few moments, and Zane busied himself with grabbing the rest of the cooking supplies when Cole spoke up again, his voice cracking slightly from the tears.

"Can I help?"

Zane nodded, allowing Cole behind the counter before Zane got to work on the dry ingredients, watching as Cole started working on the wet ingredients.

And when Zane tripped over his own foot, resulting in Cole being covered in flour head to toe, he couldn't stop himself from laughing when Cole did, although he didn't fully understand exactly what was so funny.

"Come on, you stupid hunk of junk!" Nya's shout rang through the Bounty, startling everyone that was aboard.

"How long has she been working on the thruster?" Zane asked, wondering just how long she had gone without food, sleep and water.

"Since yesterday afternoon, I can't pry her away from it." Jay explained, which led Zane to nod before making his way to the control room.

Nya was hunched over the thruster controls, screwdriver in her left hand and a screw hanging out of her mouth, her eyebrows scrunched in anger as she continued to twist the wrench with her right around a bolt.

"Nya?" Zane spoke softly, not wanting to provoke her, before gently putting his hand on her shoulder, "perhaps you should take a break. Jay said that you have been working on it since yesterday."

"I've gotta work on this," she shook her head after taking the screw out of her mouth, "we don't know when we'll have to make a getaway from...whatever Lord Garmadon is planning."

Zane nodded; since Garmadon had disappeared after the destruction of the golden weapons, they had all braced themselves for an attack, even Lloyd who had just started learning the full extent of his powers was getting ready for whatever his dad was going to throw at them.

"I understand your reasoning perfectly, but you are human, Nya. You will get burnt out if you work yourself too hard," he stopped to gently take the wrench out of her hand so she would look at him, "and if we have any chance at stopping Garmadon, we are going to need Samurai X."

Luckily, Nya nodded, and put up her tools, before wiping at her brow with her arm. "Thanks, Zane."

"You're welcome." Zane couldn't help but smile as he watched Nya make her way towards her quarters, and that's when he turned back to the thruster, and started to get to work with schematics pulled up in front of him.

"You will fly again, my friend."

Despite the fact that it was called "The Dark Island", Zane had actually found the perfect place to sit on the beach and watch the sunrise, which was hidden by large rocks, even though he could see the ocean perfectly.

He knew that the others would wake up soon, and they would start working towards the final battle yet again, but for a brief moment, everything was peaceful.

Until he heard the footsteps.

Zane immediately drew his weapon, hearing the slight rustle of sand get louder and louder, until finally, he stood and yelled, ready to attack until the supposed assailant screamed, energy at both of their hands.

Zane immediately sheathed the weapon and took a deep breath, watching as Lloyd did the same, his hand against his chest. "You scared me, Lloyd."

"Likewise," Lloyd took a deep breath before raising an eyebrow, "what're you doing?"

"I'm watching the sunrise, it looks beautiful from here," Zane explained, sitting back down and watching Lloyd's face fall, "although, I could ask you the same thing."

"I just needed some time for myself," Lloyd told him, sitting next to Zane before letting out a sigh, "I don't think I'm ready."

"To fight your father?," Zane offered, resulting in a nod from Lloyd, "You have every reason to be upset about this situation. I just reunited with my father, and I can confidently say that I would be very distraught if we were on opposite sides."

"My entire life, I've lost people. My father got banished, my mother went to work on her research and left me at Darkley's, even my uncle didn't take me in for a long time," Zane watched as Lloyd took in a shaky breath before wiping his face against his sleeve, "I don't wanna lose him again."

"Again?" Zane asked softly, as to avoid provoking Lloyd.

"My dad has been the only one to come back for me. When I got taken by the Serpentine, he left whatever evil place he was in to come save me, and I know you guys came for me too, but…"

"You're scared of being abandoned again after you fulfill the prophecy." Zane spoke aloud as it clicked in his head, and when Lloyd nodded, he could feel his heart break slightly.

"I don't want to be alone again."

Zane nodded, before gently laying his hand on Lloyd's shoulder and he saw the tear streaks on Lloyd's cheeks. "You won't be alone again, because you have me and the others. We are your brothers, and even if you didn't have elemental abilities, we would still be your brothers."

Zane didn't prepare himself adquitally for the hug that Lloyd gave him, and he could feel his circuits and gears tightening under his grasp.

But hearing Lloyd's soft voice whisper, "thank you, Zane," made it all worth it, and he couldn't stop himself from returning the hug.

"No sign of Chen or any of his warriors." PIXAL affirmed with a smile, which led Zane to repeat the message to Kai.

Now that he had been freed, he was fully able to explore exactly what his new body could do, and while he remembered big events clearly and flashes of small things, his memory was still foggy.

But he remembered his friends, and that was the biggest thing that mattered to him.

"Any sign of Skylor?" Kai begged, and Zane had no choice but to shake his head no, seeing the look of anguish on Kai's face grow more prominent.

"Let's keep looking. They couldn't have gotten off the island." Kai insisted, Zane following closely behind, watching as Kai's face went from anger to worry.

"You seem distraught, Kai. About more than Skylor," Zane reached forward and gently set his hand on Kai's shoulder, watching as he turned back to meet his eyes, "do you want to talk about it?"

Kai let out a sigh before turning back to the path and continued to walk, "I feel terrible for what happened. I had to trick Lloyd in order to get the staff from Chen, and then I almost hurt Lloyd and Skylor with the staff. Now she's missing, and...I feel like that's on me."

"No one blames you for that, Kai. Chen is the one who took her, not you." Zane reasoned softly.

"But I allowed myself to be corrupted by the staff. We all know how bad losing power is for Lloyd, and I allowed the power to consume me, to say things to him that...that I haven't believed in a long time."

"As soon as we get back, you two should talk and get everything out in the open," Zane stopped once again to put his hand on Kai's shoulder, "if we are going to fight as one, and stop Chen, we cannot have any harsh feelings towards each other."

"You're right," Kai nodded, before letting out another sigh, "I just hope Lloyd doesn't hate me."

"I think that would be impossible, Kai," Zane insisted, and when Kai turned to raise an eyebrow at him, he continued, "I do not remember everything, and my memories are still foggy, but I remember just how much Lloyd and you have bonded over the years. I have a feeling that after you two talk, he will forgive you."

Kai smiled, which made Zane's emotion levels spike with happiness, before the two continued walking deeper and deeper into Chen's island.

Zane couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something, like there was a gap in his memory drive, even if PIXAL insisted that there wasn't one.

So he was awake in the bridge, trying to double check; he really did trust PIXAL, but something had happened to his memories, and after the whole situation with his memory switch in the first place, something about forgetting just scared him.

But as he continued to go through his internal hard drive, and his memory drive, it seemed as though PIXAL was correct, and there was no gap.

As he went to close the files, that's when PIXAL popped up in his vision.

"Zane, there is someone in the general proximity of the bridge. Proceed with caution."

Zane straightened his back as he closed the files, even though the only sound he could hear was a slight sniffling that sounded a lot like crying, and grabbed one of the spare katanas that was out, turning slowly to see if he could scope out who was in the room, but that's when Jay turned the corner, a pint of ice cream in his hand that he almost threw at Zane when he screamed.

"What the heck are you doing up, Zane?!" Jay screeched as Zane set the katana on the table and approached him, "You're going to give me a heart attack if you're that quiet!"

"I'm sorry, I was just…" Zane trailed off before making eye contact with Jay, who now had the spoon from the pint of ice cream, that looked like it was Cole's ice cream, in his mouth; the tear streaks barely visible against Jay's cheeks, however, that's what Zane noticed, "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"Could ask you the same thing," Jay responded before sticking another spoonful in his mouth, "couldn't sleep, got hungry, and Cole's name isn't on his ice cream."

"I heard someone crying." Zane asked softly, watching as Jay nearly choked on a chunk of cookie dough before sputtering.

"Maybe it was Lloyd, you know he curls up under the wheel when he doesn't want anyone to know he's crying."

"Lloyd was snoring when I left our room, I would have seen him," he watched as Jay's body deflated slightly and he put the ice cream down on the console before sitting down, which led Zane to put his hand on his shoulder, "do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm just working through some things, things that...you wouldn't remember."

Zane swallowed as he made the connection that Jay knew exactly why he had a gap in his memory that PIXAL couldn't detect, but instead of freaking out, he sat next to Jay, and put his hand on his shoulder. "Maybe not, but I am willing to listen, even if you wanna erase this conversation afterwards."

"Nah, I'm not gonna do that," Jay wiped his hand across his face before taking a shaky breath and turning back to Zane, "You remember when we were trying to get to Stiix because of reports of Clouse being there?"

"Yes, that's when you and Nya resumed dating." Zane affirmed, watching as Jay's face fell slightly.

"Yeah, that's… not exactly what happened…"

'Remember when I put Kai's clothes in with yours, and you had to dress up as the pink ninja? Remember?' The blonde boy pleaded, green eyes full of tears.

He had no idea what this liar was talking about, let alone who he was. Vex insisted he was some sort of liar or traitor, but there was something about the way…

'No.'

He had no idea who this was.

•••

Zane tried to shake the memory away as he made his way to his room, looking over at the photo on his dresser.

The picture that they had taken after finishing the mural on the monastery wall; where Kai was holding onto Nya and Lloyd and Nya was holding onto Jay and Jay was holding onto Cole and Lloyd was holding onto him and he was holding onto PIXAL.

And they were all happy; even though the Oni almost killed them all, there was a large gash next to Lloyd's eye and Cole looked like he had been through the underworld and back, they were happy.

Zane was anything but happy now.

When they returned from the Never-Realm, and they shared weary smiles and hugs with Master Wu and PIXAL, despite the frostbite, Lloyd's obvious concussion and the burns on Kai's hands that would definitely scar, they were happy.

The feeling in Zane's gut was not going away anytime soon. Watching as PIXAL stitched the cut on the back of Lloyd's head, applied bandages to Kai's hands, and treated the frostbite wasn't helping with that either.

Zane didn't deserve to feel happy after nearly killing the others. After nearly killing Lloyd.

While the others were eating dinner, courtesy of Nya, Zane was sitting outside on the steps of the monastery; he didn't need to eat, and even if he did, he didn't think he could stomach it.

'You were built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. You failed your purpose. Both as a ninja, and as yourself.'

Despite all that had happened with his memories, Zane was starting to consider asking Jay to wipe the archive of the Never-Realm. Maybe he wouldn't feel as bad then.

"Hey," a voice interrupted his thoughts, and he lifted his head to see Lloyd smiling at him, although it was more of a sympathetic smile than a genuine one, "mind if I sit here?"

"You're not supposed to be outside, or on stairs for that matter, without supervision," Zane reasoned, but still moved so Lloyd could sit beside him, "you still have a concussion."

"Well, you're here, so I'm being supervised," Lloyd reasoned while sitting, and Zane couldn't deny that logic, and the company was more welcome than the deafening silence, "besides, I need a break from Kai and Master Wu breathing down my neck."

Zane nodded as Lloyd adjusted to get comfortable; he had noticed how understandably protective both of them had grown since they had gotten back, and how Lloyd had insisted immediately that the concussion was Vex's fault, refusing to look Zane in the eye.

"So, are you leaving?" Lloyd's voice cracked, which jolted something in Zane's system as he nearly stood with the shock.

"No, no, I'm not leaving," he insisted, unable to ignore the relief on Lloyd's face as he spoke, "why would you ask that?"

"Because the last time you left the monastery at night, you found my treehouse," Lloyd kicked at a pebble before looking at Zane, "and when the Hypnobri burned down the old monastery-"

But Lloyd's voice cut out as the scene played out in his head.

'Flames, trapped dragons, no more training equipment, no home, nowhere to go, alone, everyone accusing him of causing this, insisting that it was a teaching moment, being ignored, seeing the falcon, following it, the feeling of being alone again.'

"I left because I saw the falcon, and you weren't even there." Zane tried to convince Lloyd that it hadn't been the guilt, feeling like he had screwed up, feeling like he was alone.

"You're right, I was busy being a brat," Lloyd reasoned before looking back at Zane, "but I know as well as anyone what guilt is, and you felt it then, like you feel it now."

Zane swallowed; did everyone know? Was he terrible at hiding this? Had they planned to send Lloyd out?

"I hurt people. A lot of people," Zane swallowed, knowing that there were tears in his eyes, "I hurt you."

"That was Vex-" Lloyd tried to insist, but Zane shook his head, unable to look at Lloyd and instead looked up at the glittering stars.

"You don't have to lie to me, Lloyd. They were my hands, I was the one who…" he couldn't even finish his sentence without choking on the emotions on his throat.

He felt Lloyd's hand on his shoulder, he couldn't look at him, but he couldn't reach over and pull his hand off either, 'what if I freeze him? What if I hurt him again?'

"You know, Master Wu has a saying for things like this, "we cannot change the past, but we can affect the future"," Lloyd quoted, leading Zane to swallow harshly as his master's words rang true in his head, "but I get it. Feeling like you hurt people because it was your hands."

'Morro.'

"Lloyd, I didn't-" Zane started, finally managing to look at Lloyd, but he was cut off by childlike wonder spreading across his face.

"A shooting star! Quick, make a wish!" Lloyd begged, and Zane wiped at his tears before closing his eyes, pretending to make a wish before turning back to Lloyd.

"What did you wish for?" He asked, fully indulging Lloyd at this point, who was standing up. 'Lloyd deserves this, after everything.'

"That you'll come back inside with me and the others," Lloyd held out his hand to Zane, making his head throb with worry.

'You'll hurt him, you'll hurt him, you'll hurt-' "You're not going to hurt me, Zane."

Zane took Lloyd's hand, and allowed him to lead him to the living room.

For the first time since they got back from the Never-Realm, as Cole and Kai went head to head in their video game, as Nya and Jay snuggled on the couch, as he sat in between Lloyd and PIXAL, things felt right again.

He let PIXAL hold his hand, he let Cole high five him, he let Jay give him a fist bump, he hit the empty bag of chips away from Lloyd's head. Even as Master Wu pulled Lloyd away from the TV due to the concussion and Cole took his spot, he still felt calm. Relaxed even. Maybe now, they could all start to heal together.

#Ninjago #lego ninjago #zane ninjago #lloyd montgomery garmadon #jay walker #nya ninjago #kai ninjago #cole ninjago #master wu #pixal #pilot season #season 2 #season 4 #season 6 #season 11 #angst #family #friendship #the formatting is a little weird but i wanted the whole story to fit on here

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hamliet · 3 years

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Metals and Heavenly Bodies: Why There Is So Much Metal in RWBY

So, why is RWBY so metal?

RWBY uses metallic symbolism to explore the alchemical process (the refinement of metal into gold via the creation of the philosopher’s stone). Alchemy has seven metals that are ordered in terms of refinement: three base metals, one that is the most refined of base metals, and three refined metals. RWBY has been associating each metal with certain characters. It’s also been giving these characters their ultimate focus in the precise order of refinement.

Metals in alchemy are also associated with heavenly bodies, or planets (well, plus the sun and moon, because we’re dealing with ancient astronomy here). The planets, of course, are named after Roman gods, so they too can be associated with the metals, and RWBY directly correlates them.

NB: It’s very valid to critique tropes and subtext. This isn’t intended to invalidate any criticism but rather to offer a symbolic reading of the metal motif.

So, let’s dive in.

Base Metals:

Lead-Saturn

Associated characters: Qrow Branwen, Ruby Rose, Mercury Black

While I can’t think of any specific reference to lead in RWBY, there are a ton of references to the mythical Saturn.

Saturn's father (Uranus) was a piece of work who hated Saturn’s mother and so took his son (and other children) and imprisoned them in a cave so that they could never see the sunlight. Saturn’s mother eventually persuaded Saturn to take a sickle and castrate his father. He then wasn’t a particularly great dad himself, becoming more like his father than not.

In alchemy in particular, we have images of Saturn with a prosthetic leg (see: above). This is where Mercury begins his arc. He’s abused by his father, who steals his semblance and refuses to allow Mercury to be his own person (effectively rendering him a prisoner). So, Mercury kills him, and then is taken in by Cinder and Emerald to be an assassin for them, an assassin just like his father. You can see the parallels.

Saturn’s sickle is also often drawn as a scythe, which Death holds in the above image. A scythe is of course the weapon used by Ruby and by Qrow--specifically, Qrow is the person Ruby imitates and admires. But we know (and Ruby now does to) that Qrow is a flawed human himself; Ruby is better of becoming her own person rather than continuing to stay like her father-figure in Qrow (her own dad is great, but that doesn’t mean Qrow isn’t also a dad figure to her!)

Qrow, of course, is self-destructive, believing his semblance is to bring bad luck wherever he goes. His name is “crow,” the bird symbolizing the first (black) stage of death and rotting in alchemy. His own upbringing can also be compared to Saturn’s.

But, you see, Saturn isn’t actually a sign of doom and death. It is one of the symbols of the prima materia, the lead to be transformed into gold by the end of the alchemical process. It shows where the characters can grow, and indeed all three of them are along their path towards growing.

Tin-Jupiter

Associated character(s): James Ironwood (maybe Weiss Schnee)

Well, I’m actually going to talk more about Ironwood and his arc in the next section. But in Ozpin’s circle, in which characters are based on The Wizard of Oz (a blatantly alchemical story), we have Qrow as the scarecrow, Lionheart as the Cowardly Lion, and Ironwood as the tin man. Jupiter is also associated with the Sublimation stage in the process of alchemy, which is where we are now.

In case we didn’t get the allusion, RWBY has helpfully placed artwork of tin men on the walls in the background of Weiss’s room this season.

I’m aware that this screenshot isn’t from this season but it gets the point across. I also feel tin might well have an association with Weiss and where she was at in her arc after the fall of Beacon.

Additionally, Jupiter is actually Saturn’s son in mythology, and is saved from being eaten by his father (look Saturn really wasn’t awesome). He returns to force his father to regurgitate his siblings, and Jupiter and his rescued siblings (yes they were still alive; it’s mythology) fight to dethrone their father. They succeed with the use of lightning, among other things. Saturn was then imprisoned in tartarus. You can see the parallels.

Do note that the glowing sun above the head of the tin man on Weiss’s wall, showing Weiss is destined to become refined like gold. The golden sun is in sharp contrast to Ironwood’s allusion to the Dark Sun, but there’s a lot more to say about Ironwood in the Iron section.

Iron-Mars

Associated characters: James Ironwood, Marcus Black, Mercury Black

First, let’s continue with Ironwood. I’ve noted before that iron is associated with war:

Iron in particular is ruled by Mars, the god of war, meaning it is associated with violence. It’s not a coincidence that pretty much from the second Ironwood is introduced, the concept of war comes up, and his entire character has gone on to be the embodiment of the military and violence.

In addition to seeing himself as a sort of be-all-end-all Jupiter figure, Ironwood of course is always expecting war. His arc is one of reverse alchemy, which is a thing. It means that instead of becoming refined, he’s corroding from Iron to Tin. I don’t see good things for him.

Mars in mythology also becomes obsessed with Venus, which... you’ll have to read the next section for that ;)

Marcus Black, of course, is an assassin, hence it makes sense that his name literally means “dedicated to Mars.” Mercury (our Mercury) becomes more like him in taking over his role as an assassin. He’s so broken from his father’s abuse that he refuses to become his own person and just falls into his father’s role. It’s tragic.

So is Mercury’s arc reverse alchemy? No, I don’t think so. There’s more (of course) later on, but if we look at the stages of his development, we see he has moved from Lead to Iron. It’s progress. His leg is a focus for the early arcs of the story (he uses it, along with Emerald’s semblance, to trick everyone into turning against Yang), and only later did we learn his history with his father. Even if the events of course did not happen in succession, the story revealed the allusions one after each other. He’s also made progress in that he’s clearly emotionally attached to Emerald even if he pretends otherwise. Also... (see below)

The Most Perfectable Base Metal:

Copper-Venus

Associated character: Penny Polendina

As I also mentioned previously, Penny’s name references copper (a “copper penny”). The Summa Perfectionis, a thirteenth century alchemical text, calls copper “the most perfectable of base metals.”

Venus in alchemical imagery is almost always wearing (or surrounded by, since she’s also often, well, not wearing anything) green.

Green is in alchemy the color of the prima materia, the raw, immature material that will eventually be refined into gold, because green is of course symbolic of the earth, fertility, growth, etc.

As I wrote previously, in mythology Mars had a thing for Venus. I’m certainly not suggesting Ironwood has a thing for Penny in a romantic/sexual sense, but he does seek to control her, and like the Mars of myth, his pursuit of Penny/Venus leads to his humiliation (the Mars of myth gets caught in a trap--no literally a net--by Venus’s angry husband).

In contrast to Ironwood, Penny, who is originally made entirely of metal, becomes human, while Ironwood becomes more metal--not necessarily literally, but in his spirit. He’s lost his humanity, or rather, gave it away, while Penny found hers. It makes sense to me that a story with spiritual alchemy at its core (which focuses in the Jungian sense on individuation/self-actualization, or fully coming into an understanding of the self) would have Penny literally transform into what she has always been: a final product, a real girl, the philosopher’s stone.

Refined Metals:

Now these are going to be a bit more predictive. The allusions are clearly there, but how exactly those will play out I don’t know because if we look at these metals as steps in the process, we’re not quite there yet.

Mercury-Mercury

Associated character(s): Mercury Black, (maybe Emerald Sustrai)

I think the name says it all.

Kidding. Mercury as a metal is also known as argentvive or quicksilver. It, along with sulphur, form the basis of the alchemical process. They must be united to achieve the Philosopher’s Stone (it’s one of the reasons I am wondering if we’re going to get an important, Mercury-related event in a place named for sulphur or its other name, brimstone, in Vacuo; all the places we know of in Vacuo are named after types of stones including several that are sulfuric in nature). Mercury himself unites the two principles of the work, sun and moon (for who those are, read below). Mercury is the metal from which all other metals come from--he’s way more important to this story than we’ve seen yet. Most likely, he will eventually turn on Salem as well, and in a pivotal moment.

As a god, Mercurius is the author of alchemy. He’s the mythical author of the Emerald Tablet (which Emerald’s name alludes to; I actually don’t personally think Emerald alludes very much to Aladdin. Instead, I think her allusion is the Emerald Tablet and her Egyptian design is based on Thoth, Mercury’s Egyptian counterpart). Mercury is the spirit that gives life.

Lyndy Abraham notes that Mercury is “both destructive and creative” (oh look at the relics of Atlas and Vacuo) and that “the elusive, duplicitous Mercurius who consorts with the devil is at the same time a redeeming psychopomp” (”psychopomp” means spiritual guide) “The fact that he can freely participate in both light and dark worlds without taint makes Mercurius the perfect mediating bridge.” Jung calls Mercury “a symbol uniting all the opposites.” So yeah, Mercury should have a redemption arc that will probably be pivotal in the story.

If we follow the self-actualization endgame of spiritual alchemy, with true life and wisdom as the metaphorical philosopher’s stone here, I think it’s likely Mercury becomes more himself--going from being Lead to Iron (as he’s clearly spiraling right now, but also has a connection to Emerald) to Mercury. I would also suspect he’d get his semblance back to establish that he’s his “own person” (a major recurring theme of RWBY), and while, like with Yang and her arm, I don’t think he’ll get new legs, I think it’s pretty likely his semblance will enable him to fly (since mythical Mercury, you know, flies).

Silver-Moon

Associated character(s): Ruby Rose (also Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna, Oscar Pine, Jaune Arc, and Summer Rose).

The most important character here is Ruby, obviously. She’s our MC and titular character! But Weiss, Jaune, Blake, Summer, and Oscar are all addressed here. But I think it’s obvious that Ruby’s defining trait is her silver eyes. They got her noticed by Ozpin and sent to Beacon early, they’re the reason Salem is targeting her, they’re what could destroy her (turning into a Grimm) or save the world (what’s going to happen). Silver is noted to be “pure” which is what other characters constantly comment Ruby is.

Gold-Sun

Associated character(s): Oscar Pine (also Sun Wukong, Yang Xiao Long, Tai Xiao Long, Ruby Rose, Pyrrha Nikos, and maybe Jaune Arc)

The most important/obvious character here is Oscar. Oscar’s first name is a shade of gold and a type of fish that is most often brown or gold. He’s facing a similar dilemma to Ruby: the threat of merging forever with Ozpin (which clearly won’t happen; he needs to be his own person, as Ruby said).

Both Ruby’s and Oscar’s individualizations are somehow instrumental to defeating Salem.

#rwby #rwby meta #rwby vol 8 #oscar pine #mercury black #emerald sustrai #rwby theory #alchemy #james ironwood #weiss schnee #penny polendina #qrow branwen #ruby rose #ozpin #rwby volume eight

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reidswritings · 4 years

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even after all these years

word count; 7.2k

warnings; mentions of death, stalker stuff, mentions of guns, curse words, and angst angst angst

authors note; so this was like 3 days in the making, so i hope yall enjoy!! please let me know what yall think!! ignore any typos im doing my best 😁😁

two years ago;

“I’m done.” She had said after the door closed, once they were alone. Once there was no one to stop what was going to happen. Once there was no one to talk some sense into The Young Girl.

The Pretty Boy, who she had come to love more that she ever thought possible, was no longer standing pretty in front of her. His once love filled eyes—the hazel beauties that used to look at her with so much admiration now were void, cold— were holding back the tears she knew he so desperately wanted to let flow (but wouldn’t with her standing there). She knew that once she left him, he’d break down. She knew that he would spend all of his nights on the couch rather than the bed they shared for so long. She knew that he would rather die than look at the happy pictures on the walls sans the few that she had stuffed into her getaway bag. She knew him too well— she knew how he would react once she was no longer the love interest in his story.

She knew and yet she was still doing this to him. She was doing this to him— she was causing him so much destruction and pain, barely batting an eye at him. For being a profiler, he was shitty at reading people’s body language and emotions. Because to him, she seemed fine; she seemed like it was just another day. To Spencer, it seemed like she was bored. To him, it didn’t seem like she was also breaking. It didn’t seem like she was hurting just as much. Maybe if he was better, he would’ve seen. Maybe if he was better, he could’ve stopped it. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

The eyes that she had fallen in love with—that she was still hopelessly in love with— were dark, almost black. He had a white piece of gauze taped against his neck, covering a once life threatening bullet hole. There was a red spot, small bits of blood seeping through the stitches holding his skin together. If she wasn’t so preoccupied she would’ve thrown up from how much the injury bothered her. She would’ve gotten so worked up that she would’ve passed out.

Her eyes burned with tears, looking at the goddamn wound that started this all. The wound that ended their relationship. She blinked and it was over for her. Her façade dropped and her tears rolled over her eyelashes and onto her cheeks. Spencer’s arm twitched before he jerked it back to his side, fingers clenched. He wanted to wipe her tears away so desperately. Despite the words that had just passed her perfect lips, he still wanted to hold her like his life depended on it— because honestly, it really did.

She was his life preserver in the wild sea that was his life.

The Boy was holding his keys in his hands, jingling the metal with his fingers in attempt to calm his heart, his mind, his emotions. They had just gotten home. He was in Texas when it happened— he was in Texas working a case when he almost got himself killed. Thankfully, The Team had flew His Girl out and she had been the first face he saw when he finally woke up.

Alex, being the wonderful human she is, had just dropped the two off, leaving only after she admitted to Spencer that she was leaving, too. They had just gotten home and she was springing this on him, out of nowhere. She was doing this to him even after all the people that had already left him. She was doing this to him the same night one of his best friends had just left him. She was doing this at the most inconvenient time— not that any time would be better, he would still be loosing the love of his life either way.

He was sure he hadn’t heard her right. He was sure that he hadn’t just heard His Pretty Girl say the words he thought she’d never say. The words she promised him that she’d never use. She was doing the one thing he was most afraid of; she was abandoning him. . . just like everyone did.

His heart was beating so fast. It was so loud, he was sure she could hear him. He was on the brink of a panic attack. His breath was hitching and he couldn’t stop it. As big as his brain was, he couldn’t wrap his mind around what was happening. His mind was running a mile a minute, carrying a thousand thoughts with it— yet, none of the thoughts were helpful ones. There were no thoughts walking him through his breathing exercises, no thoughts telling him to calm down, no thoughts telling him to speak up.

The only thing on his genius mind was one sentence; She’s leaving me. She’s leaving me. She’s leaving me. She’s leaving—

So, he said, “W-What?” Breathless and choppy. He was having trouble focusing. He needed to sit down. He needed the world to pause for just one second. He needed to get his thoughts in order. He needed to sit, but his legs refused to move. He was stuck. He was stuck in this terrible, awful moment that his eidetic memory would never let him live down. He knew that he would think of this moment for the rest of his life with so much regret in all the things he didn’t say. But still, he was stuck, frozen.

Unable to fix things— unable to make her stay.

“Spence,” She paused, looked down and sighed. She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t, because if she did she would wrap him up in her arms and never let him go again. She knew if he caught her eye that she would apologize until she was blue in the face. The girl refused to meet his eyes because she knew if she did that she wouldn’t be doing what she was doing. She needed to do this, she couldn’t back down now. “I. . . I can’t do this anymore.”

His voice was low, raspy and broken, “Do what. . .?” He knew what. He wasn’t dumb, he knew what she meant, but he needed to hear her say it. She had to say it or he wouldn’t ever let go. He would be stuck with her for the rest of time. He needed to hear her say it, even if that meant he would be more broken than he had ever been before. He needed this. He needed it even if it killed him.

Now she met his hazel eyes— her favorite part of him, she was committing it to memory because after this, she would never see him again. She knew that. She counted on that. “This, us. Spence, I almost lost you today. . . I can’t do that again. You’re— You’re everything, I-I— you’re my everything. I can’t ask you to quit your job, I won’t be that person. . . So, I’m removing myself. I can’t watch you get killed— I won’t do it, Spencer.”

Everything, all at once, became sharp. It was like his mind could finally form full sentences. He was full of ideas, he was full of air. He knew what he had to do. He knew how to keep her with him.

Before either adult knew what was happening, he was moving, quick on his feet, to the couch. He was throwing open his messenger bag, hands messily pulling things out. He was searching for his phone, he was searching for the one thing he could think of that would save him— save them.

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked him, moving behind him, reaching for his arm, trying to see what had him so worked up. He jerked away from her, grunting in the process. And again, with no words spoken, he was moving again. He was going too fast, he was going to tear his stitches, he was going to hurt his still healing wound. He was now moving into the kitchen, still looking, hope flooding his veins. This was his last chance, he knew that.

“Spencer!” She followed him, just as frantic as the newly hope-filled boy, “Did you hear me?”

She heard him let out a chocked sob, a broken laugh following— though, no humor was tied to it. She stopped in front of him, heart wild, anxiety flowing through her body. He was typing on his phone, chest raising and falling faster than she liked. The girl asked again, “What are you doing?”

He looked up now. His eyes were wild, more so than she had ever seen. He was so worked up that his body was literally twitching with each breath that passed his lips. It scared her, she had never seen him like this. She had never seen him so manic. It hurt knowing she was the cause.

The thought of him like this did nothing for her, though. She still continued on her path of destruction.

“I’m calling Hotch. Telling him I’m done.” He was bringing his phone up to his ear while his mind planned out the words he needed to say to get off The Team. His free hand was holding onto the counter, keeping himself straight up. His knuckles were turning white; Y/N was worried he would break his hand— or the old table. Either way was inadequate. Without it, he was afraid he’d fall to the floor in a mess of tears and anger.

He was doing it, he was doing it. He had figured a way to make her stay, he was going to do it. He would do anything to keep her with him.

The phone was ringing. It was ringing and Spencer could feel his panic draining away with each passing second, his boss was going to answer and everything was going to be alright. His boss, who doubled as his friend, was seconds away from answering the phone, he just knew it.

Everything was working itself out, this would be okay— that is until she intervened.

She was ripping the phone from his hands, hanging up in the process. Spencer felt his breath catch again, his voice was wild as he asked— screeched, “What are you doing?!”

The boy reached for the phone but she whipped it away from his reach, “Stop! Give— Give it back, Y/N!”

“No! I-I’m not letting you throw your life away for something so fucking stupid, Spencer!” Spencer watched her as she began to turn around, walk from the kitchen and probably his life. He couldn’t move again. His phone started to ring in her hands. They both froze, listening to the phone until it turned itself off.

He was following her now, like a lost puppy. He would follow her anywhere. She was the one. She was it for him. There was no one else.

“Y/N. . . please. Please, don’t do this.” He was broken, voice thick with tears. Her back was to him, he stepped closer, hand falling to her shoulder.

He heard her sigh, “Spencer, don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

He begged. He was more broken than she had ever seen him. More than when he lost Maeve. More than when he lost Emily. More than when Elle left him. More than when Alex told him about her son that was so similar to himself. More than when she walked out right after. More than when he talked about his mom. This was it— this was the worst for him. This was his rock bottom. He wasn’t sure he’d ever recover.

This was it for him— there was only darkness after Y/N. He couldn’t see a future without His Girl by his side.

There was no Spencer Reid without Y/F/N Y/L/N.

“Please don’t leave me. You—You promised.”

She turned to face him, face absent of all emotion. A complete 180 from only a few moments ago. She handed him back the outdated phone, along with his crushed up heart. “I lied.”

now;

It wasn’t very often Y/N crossed Spencer’s mind, but when she did it felt like his heart was being ripped from his chest all over again. Spencer’s had his fair share of trauma in his life, but by far Y/N was the one that hurt the most. After watching her walk out of his life—for ever, he’d assumed— he was sure that he wouldn’t ever recover. He did, of course.

It just took longer than he cared to admit.

It took a lot of shedding tears at the most inappropriate times (and things), more support from his friends than he ever thought he’d get, too many late nights playing that last night over and over again in his mind, and way too many calls to his sponsor.

If he was being honest, he was terrified that he would relapse. He was afraid that he would become his old self. He never wanted that; he hated that guy more than he hated anything in his life. He didn’t though— he made her a promise all those years ago and he didn’t break promises. She may have broken all hers but that didn’t mean he broke his.

He had gone those two years without ever seeing The Pretty Girl. He was grateful for that— he knew if he ever did see her again, he’d probably die. Well, not actually, but it would hurt like hell. He was more than positive that if he saw The Beaut that it would feel like he was dying. He knew this because that’s how he felt when she left all those years ago.

He tried not to dwell on that fact— he tried not to think about her.

He really did. He even tried to move on. He tried to love other girls, he tried to let himself go, he tried to find solace in women that weren’t her. It just never came— he never got the peace he so desperately craved.

She was just too unforgettable. She was everything— she was the air that he breathed, the ground he walked on, the smile that he got every time something wonderful happened.

She was everything and it was near impossible to let go of everything.

By now, he had convinced himself, with the help of his BAU family, that he’d never see her again. He had been convinced that it was really over. He was trying to convince himself to let her go. He was trying to lose that tiny piece of hope he carried in his heart with him with every day. He knew he had to let her go— he’d never get what he wanted again. It was time.

Too many years had passed, she wasn’t his anymore.

She was a pretty girl; she had probably settled down by now. She had probably settled for someone. She probably lived in some small town with a dog and a perfect boy that wasn’t him. Her life was probably everything she ever dreamed of.

He liked to think that. He liked to think that she had gotten everything she’d ever wanted. He liked to think that she was happy now. It kept him going, fantasizing about her and her perfect life— the one she created without him.

He never thought he’d see her again. And you know what? He was coming to terms with that.

That was, until the day he did. The day his heart stopped beating again. The day that his breath was knocked from his lungs. The day that he only dreamed about.

Until His Pretty Girl walked through those big glass BAU doors.

The Stunned Boy felt his body betray him. He was suddenly standing, mouth agape and eyes wide, unblinking. She had stopped too, arms clutching a ominous folder to her chest. Spencer drank her appearance in; she hadn’t changed very much. She was still as beautiful as he remembered. She looked absolutely gorgeous.

She was wearing a baggy sweatshirt— Spencer was more than positive that it was his— and frame fitting jeans. She had paired the comfortable outfit with the running shoes she had bought so many years ago. It was ironic because she had bought them to start working out, but never actually got around to doing so.

Spencer met her eyes. They hadn’t changed, they were still the eyes he had fallen in love with. He took a moment to notice that her face was void of any makeup— that was different. She looked tired too; her hair was thrown up into a messy bun, another thing that he noticed was different. She looked absolutely exhausted— he wanted to know why. He wanted to know what had happened to make her look the way she did; what had brought her back— back to him.

Both Spencer and Y/N were still unmoving, despite the world moving around them. His voice came out soft, and he was sure that she couldn’t hear him from across the bullpen. He wasn’t completely sure that he wasn’t dreaming. He spoke anyways, “Y/N?”

She blinked and then her world started again. Her breath was knocked back into her body; she was here for a reason. She needed help.

JJ walked through the doors, coffee in hand, tired eyes heavy on her face. She stopped in her tracks, suddenly awake, upon seeing Y/N. A gasp came from her lips, causing the spell between Spencer and Y/N to end. The unchanged girl turned to her old friend, the smallest smile he had ever seen on her face, “Hi.”

JJ smiled too, arms wrapping around the smaller girl before she could stop them. “Hi! Oh my god, hi! W-What are you doing here?”

Y/N’s eyes met Spencer’s again—he still hadn’t moved— then back to the blonde’s. “Um, I— Um, I need your help.”

Ever so curious, JJ nodded and led her old pal to her desk— the desk that was directly in front of SSA Spencer Reid’s. As they approached, Spencer felt his body lower itself back into his chair. Jennifer pulled an empty chair by her desk, motioning her friend to sit. Now with all three adults sitting, The Beautiful Blonde asked, “What’s happening?”

Spencer pretended to be busy, opening a case folder and staring. Y/N knew he was listening— it never took The Genius Boy more than, like, 10 seconds to read one page. Despite the listening ears, Y/N cleared her throat and began to speak.

She placed the folder onto JJ’s desk. It landed with a soft thump. The blonde flipped it open, keeping eye contact with her friend— soon to be victim of their next case. Page after page of threats laid there for anyone to see, it made Y/N feel quite exposed. She hated this; she hated that this was happening to her.

“I think— I think,” she paused, eyes flicking to Spencer, who was now watching the two girls with no shame, brows furrowed and bottom lip tucked under his teeth, “someone has been following me.”

Y/N felt her leg start to bounce in anxiety, she wished she could rewind the clock and convince herself not to come to the office. She wished she could’ve just pretended that she was safe and that nothing was happening to her. Spencer launched himself to his feet. His heart was anxiety-ridden “What?”

Both girl’s attention moved to The Frantic Boy. His mind was as wild as his curls; there was no way this was happening to him again. It wasn’t fair— why couldn’t his girls just be left alone?

“Um, yeah— I don’t know,” The Young Girl nodded, hands dismissing her thoughts. She felt dumb for coming back, and it showed. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go. I know you guys are good at this stuff.”

JJ placed a sympathetic hand on Y/N’s arm, calling her attention back. “It’s good you did.”

The Blonde nodded along with her friend, “Okay, I’ll be right back. I’m gonna show this to The Team, see what we can do. Okay?” She was waving the blank folder in her hands as Y/N nodded. JJ stood, eyeing Spencer, a secret conversation happening between the two.

As soon as the girl left, Spencer claimed her seat. The boy leaned back, one leg crossing over the other— the iconic Spencer stance. Y/N’s hands were folded in her lap, eyes trained on her faded jeans, her mind willing her to be anywhere other than in front of The Boy she broke.

Spencer cleared his throat, His Pretty Girl looked up. “It’s good to see you. . . You, uh, you look good.”

He noticed the slight blush that appeared on her cheeks and nose. His cold heart softened ever so slightly. It was like a window had opened and his anger bit by bit flew out. Even after all these years he was still head over heals for her. She scoffed, tucking a piece of hair back into her bun, “. . . Shut up.”

“No, seriously. You haven’t changed at all.” More blush on her cheeks. More anger out the window.

Y/N licked her lips— a nervous tick, Spencer noticed, “Spencer, I—”

His heart sped up at her words, mind wondering what she was going to say. He hoped it was the apology he’d wanted for the past two years. He wished it was her asking for him to take her back. He wished, he wished, he wished.

“—Y/N, we’re ready for you now.” JJ’s voice interrupted the girl. Both Y/N and Spencer turned to The Blonde who was standing in the door of the round table room. Her hand was clutching the door as she leaned out. Y/N could see in the room, thanks to the floor to ceiling window directly next to Jennifer. The entire Team was inside, Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t seen any of them since she did what she did to Spencer. She wondered if they held any anger towards her. If they did, she deserved it. After what she did to Spencer she deserved everything unwelcoming and bad.

The Boy Wonder sensed her anxiety. He stood up, encouraged her to as well. Once she did so, he led her into the room, all their eyes landing to her. Spencer and His Pretty Girl came to a stop in the room, standing side by side. Y/N could feel the warmth radiating of the boy next to her, it calmed her nerves. She missed that— The Spencer Effect.

“It’s so good to see you again, Y/N,” that was Emily. Emily Prentiss; best friend of Spencer Reid. Her eyes, Y/N noticed held a bittersweet tone, “Wish it was under different circumstances, though.”

Her eyes looked at each and every member of The Team— none of them held any judgement or anger. Sure, some held sadness, others held understanding, but mostly, she saw compassion. She should’ve known; she used to spend every weekend with these people— she should’ve known they wouldn’t hold anything against her. She should’ve known.

Holding the pages that Y/N had printed out, JJ spoke first. “Well, it looks like its all been online?”

The victim nodded then coughed, “Well. . . actually, last night, I found this outside my apartment.” Out of her purse, she pulled yet another folder. Handing it to Spencer, she rocked on her feet. Inside the folder was picture after picture of Y/N. Many were captured when she was in the public eye, doing errands, hanging with friends, walking her pup. The part that caused Spencer’s blood to run cold were the few at the end.

Whoever was terrorizing Y/N, had managed to get into her apartment and capture pictures while she was sleeping, showering and even lounging on her couch— though the last bunch were from outside a window, most likely on her patio.

The boy tossed the pictures on the table in anger, the rest of The Team all began to sort through them. Surprising Y/N, and The Team, he did a full 180 and stormed from the room. Against her better judgement, she watched him go. Her eyes followed his every movement. Even after all these years, her eyes still watched every move her boy executed.

Before she could protest, her feet were carrying her to Spencer. He was pacing in front of his desk, hands nervously rubbing over one another. A tick that she remembered Spencer often doing.

“Spencer?” She asked. It was soft and innocent. It was everything Spencer had missed and that pissed him off.

“Y/N?” The tone surprised her. It was harsh, different from how he was treating her only a few minutes prior.

“Are you okay?” He laughed but didn’t answer her question, so she tried once more. “What’s wrong? . . . Spence?”

“No—!” He turned to face her now. His outburst surprised her (and apparently The Team too, as they had all stopped what they were doing to watch the horrific scene unfold. Yet none of the six moved to help The Broken Girl. She deserved that— she deserved the harsh words that were leaving the boy she loved so much), he continued, “You— you don’t get to call me that anymore. You lost that privilege when you left.”

That hurt, but she let him get it out. She knew it was years in the making— she knew it was healthy for him to express himself, even if it was all the anger he accumulated the past two years. He wasn’t yelling anymore, but his tone held all the anger he had been holding for the past two years. The boy’s hands made their way into his curls, pulling at the root. Y/N’s eyes were wide, mouth stuck open.

“Spencer, I-I’m sorry!” Tears were stinging her eyes, causing The Beautiful Boy to go blurry. She was absolutely positive that Spencer could see her unshed tears and she hated herself for it. She felt so fucking stupid. She shouldn’t have come— it was stupid to think he would ever help her.

“Yeah? Well, it’s too late now, Y/N.” He stepped towards her, she took a step back. His heart took the bullet, but he didn’t let it show. And before he could stop the word vomit, he brushed past her, knocking shoulders and said, “You shouldn’t have come back.”

She watched, blurry eyed, as the boy who she still loved ran up the BAU steps and back to the round table. She felt her breath hitch and then she felt her body lower itself into the chair that just so happened to be Spencer’s. She needed to get a control on her emotions. She couldn’t break down— she needed to help The Team help her.

Finding a stalker was hard work, apparently, because it was nearing the late hours of the night and there was still no face to the tyrant who so badly wanted Y/N’s attention. The Team was beginning to burn out, frustrated with the lack of answers. With the lack of safety for their old friend. With the lack of anything that wasn’t naked pictures of Spencer’s Old Girl and threats directed from some deranged place of love.

After Spencer’s meltdown, the two hadn’t talked— let alone made eye contact. It wasn’t without effort though, Y/N had been doing her best to get The Boy Wonder to look her way. Unfortunately though, he seemed to have his own thoughts on the matter. He had kept his back to her for the last three hours. Instead, focusing on the white board in front of him.

Taped to one side of the board were pictures of Y/N as well as the threats she had received in the past few months. Spencer could barely look at that side— he had been focusing his efforts on the left bit. His eyes had been locked on the few leads they did have. Which, to be summed up, was nothing. The Team had The Victim look at the men on the wall— none of which she knew, to their disappointment. This discovery drove them no farther than they were when the girl first walked in.

It was when Y/N was growing antsy again when Hotch’s rough voice spoke up. “We’re not getting anything done here. I think we take the night and come back with fresh eyes. Yes?”

A moment passed, then two. No one moved to disagree with the boss. Y/N stayed put in her seat, watching as her old friends began to pack up their belongings and file out— not without a few comforting words in passing. The Young Girl sighed, standing too, until she noticed a certain genius still staring at the wall, arms crossed.

He had abandoned the sweater that he once wore and was now sporting his well-fitting button down. And damn, it looked good. It was this deep maroon color that he wore so well (Her eyes committed the image to memory, not wanting to forget what a handsome hunk he was. Because, honestly, she knew after all this was done, she’d never be seeing him again). He had rolled the sleeves up to his bicep and unbuttoned the top two buttons, as well as losing the tie that once brought the whole look together. His beautiful curls were aggressively frizzy, sticking up in all the wrong places. It took everything in her not to reach up and fit it, like she used to.

She wanted to speak, she wanted to reach out to the boy. She knew that he hated her— she knew that he was beyond angry with her. She had so many things she needed him to know— needed him to understand. But, now wasn’t the time. Now definitely wasn’t the time to get into the nasty bits that was their past. No, now was the time to save her from the impending doom of this goddamn stalker.

“Spencer?” She asked, before she could stop herself. The boy turned, aggravated— with her, with the situation, with everything. His arms dropped, hands stuffing themselves in his pockets. He bounced on his feet, eyes tired. She continued, “I-I know that you hate me—”

“— I don’t hate you,” It was a lie. She knew that. She knew he was lying, she knew that he was just saying things to make her feel better.

So, she said, “Look, I, um— do you think— could you—”

The angry boy, who’s anger was once again draining with every breath— she had that effect on him—sighed and let the tension leave his body, “Do you want me to take you home?”

Sheepishly keeping the eye contact she had longed for, for so long, she nodded. The girl pulled her arms into her chest, “That would be really great. . . only if you can, though. I don’t want to put you out.”

Another sigh and another bullet to the heart— only this time to Y/N’s and not her ex lover’s. Spencer collected his few things and placed a soft hand on her back, leading her out. And just for a moment, for a moment, it felt like old times. It felt like everything was okay and that they were going back to their place and that everything was perfect.

Sadly though, life was no fairy-tale for the two and there was no perfect ending. The two once lovers sat in the boy’s car, silent and awkward. They were only a few streets from Spencer’s—their old place— place, stopped at a red light. The light was finding it’s way into the car, flashing a beautiful hue on the boy next to her. One of his hands was holding tight to the wheel, the other was laying on the arm rest between them. It took every bone in the girl’s body to not reach out to feel him— it had been so long. She missed his touch.

Maybe it was that feeling that made her do it. Maybe it was just how beautiful he looked that made her say it. Maybe it was the love that she still carried for him (even after all these years) that made her tell him.

“I’m afraid to be alone.” It was quiet and it held all the emotion she had been hiding all day. Spencer’s heart, though ever angry, broke a little for her.

The boy looked over, his mouth opening to ease her in whatever way he could. Before a word left his mouth, the light turned green and the spell was broken between the two. He pushed through, foot pressing on the gas, “You, uh, you can stay with me, if you want.”

“Really?”

“Well, i-it’s just until after we catch this guy.” He paused, blinker on, car passing, turning left, “Then, you go back to whatever life you created.”

“—I didn’t—”

“And then, I’ll go back to pretending you didn’t break me.” Yet another bullet to the heart. She deserved that though, she knew it too.

“I’m sorry, Spencer.”

Another pause of conversation, another blinker and another turn. Then they were home— they were back to Spencer’s. The walk to the small apartment wasn’t a long one. Especially with her body leading the way— muscle memory. What surprised her most was that he hadn’t changed much. Books still cluttered the tables and floors, globes and maps still sporadically placed around each room. The only thing that caught her eye was the lack of photos on the walls— what used to be a map of their relationship was replaced with a white wall.

“Looks the same.” she nodded, unmoving from her awkward stance by the door. “Looks like you.”

He snorted— though, there was no actual humor bedded within. Y/N watched as he stripped his bag from his body, then slipped off his shoes and off with his jacket. They stood together, wishing it was different. Wishing they could go back. Wishing there was no anger. Wishing, wishing, wishing. They’d be wishing for the rest of time.

Like before, like the last night, he was moving fast, breath hitching, “How long?”

“How long?” She echoed him, moving too. Still under the spell, she’d follow him anywhere.

“How long have you—” The boy cut himself off, hands in his curls, pulling them apart—unmarrying the best ones. “How long have you had this problem and not done anything?”

Before she had a chance to tell him, he was whirling on the poor girl, eyes wild, “You should’ve came to us— came to me.” His voice broke at the end, and Y/N could’ve kicked herself for causing him all this pain.

The heartbreaker sighed, “Spencer—”

“Y/N, I’m not playing around. How long?”

A sigh, a look to the floor, then back at him, “I don’t know, really. Maybe six months?”

Another sigh, this time from Spencer. He was sitting on the couch now, defeated, head in hands. “Maybe?”

“I’ve kind of had other things on my mind, Spencer!” It was bitter, angry, but not at him. It was directed at the jackass that had been stalking her. She joined him on the old seat, leaning back and pulling her legs off the floor.

A moment passed between the two— it wasn’t angry or awkward and didn’t hold any resentment, it was just comfortable and that surprised the two considering they hadn’t seen each other in over two years. It was just so easy to fall back into what they used to be.

She looked over at her boy. The window’s curtains were pushed open, the street lights making their way in. Spencer had turned on a lamp in the corner, as well. It was mixing with the lights from outside and casting a beautiful glow on her boy. He was looking down at his hands that were folded in his lap. A pensive look had made its home on his face.

“What’s goin’ on in that big brain of yours?” Y/N laughed, quiet and everything he had missed. The girl bumped shoulders with the boy next to her. He managed a smile, small, but still it was there. Y/N counted that as a victory.

The smile was gone as quickly as it appeared. Spencer cleared his throat and said, “Did you know that sixty-eight percent of stalking victims reported that their stalker physically harmed them?”

Another beat passed. Spencer had turned to look at her now, eyes heavy. Y/N was looking at her knees now, trying to ignore the fear that wanted to bubble up. “And?”

“A-And?” His whole body turned now, one leg folded between the two. His arm closet to the couch had made home on the top of the sofa back, fingers tapping— nervous tick. He had placed other hand on Y/N’s knee, trying to be comforting. She accepted his attempt, thankful for him. “Y/N, I’m saying that could’ve been you. You should’ve come to me when this first started.”

Y/N finally let her eyes meet his. And god, she could’ve cried right then and there. He was so beautiful. She missed him so much. Breaking her spell, she shook her head, “Spencer. . . I didn’t want to ruin anything you might’ve had going on.”

“Ruin any— Y/N/N, you’re not ruining anything by asking for help.” The boy sighed, looking away. His hand tightened once on her leg and her stomach erupted in the same way it always did with him around. Quieter, so quiet she almost missed it, he said, “The only way you’d ruin anything would be by leaving.”

“I’m sorry, Spencer.” The girl caught his eye again, shaking her head. Tears blurred her eyes again. Her hair, now out of it’s bun, fell into her face. With a shaky hand, Spencer batted it back behind her ear. A blush rose on her cheeks, as Spencer’s hand moved to wipe the few tears that had managed to fall. Her voice was thick with tears and it broke him. “I really am, you know?”

A sigh, then a nod from her boy. “Can I ask you something?”

“Always, Spence.” The name struck a cord in his heart, but he let it slide. He had no more energy to fight with her, no more energy to stay angry with his girl. He had nothing left. He was giving up his angry phase— he was letting it flow from his body like sand through sieve. He was giving in to her and the small bits of love that he still held for the beauty in front of him.

“Why’d you do it? Leave, I mean.”

Yet another bullet to her heart. “. . . I don’t know.”

He was moving again. His hands pulled away from her body as if she had burned him— because honestly, she might as well have. With that bullshit response, she might as well have slapped him— to him, there would’ve been no difference and the outcome would’ve been the same. He stood up, back to her. His hands came back up to his hair and she willed him not to pull apart the remaining curls. “That’s bullshit, Y/N! And you know it. . . I-I’m sorry. Just, just don’t lie to me anymore.”

Y/N stood too, arms up in surrender. Arms open like he had a gun pointed at her— because to her, there was no difference between the weapon he wore on his hip everyday and the weapon that spilled from his lips. His back was still to her, so she reached out to touch his shoulder. Careful, not to startle the boy. She wanted to see him, she needed to see him. For a second, her breath was gone, her mind taking her back to that night. She could’ve laughed at how similar the situation was, only reversed. Only now, she was the one begging to be touched, to be listened to. Only now, she was the one who was broken.

Instead of jerking away like he did all those years ago, he turned, sadness present on his face. Y/N’s heart broke for him. Y/N’s heart broke for herself. Her heart broke for the both of them. “I was scared, okay? I was just so scared.”

He turned fully, hands mindlessly finding their way to her hair. They tangled themselves in, tilting her head up. His voice was lower than she had ever heard. It was just barely above a whisper and she fucking loved it. If they were in a different situation, she would’ve been weak in the knees. “Scared? What, Y/N/N?”

She sighed, “I don’t know. . . Scared I’d lose you, scared you’d get hurt and I wouldn’t be there in time. I was just scared, Spence.”

Maybe it was her words that caused his reaction. Maybe the truth he could see behind them. Or maybe it was the emotion that felt so genuine. Whatever it was, he felt himself loosen. He felt the remaining anger dissipate, he was suddenly forgiving her for everything. Because he finally understood. He, for once, wasn’t having to jump to conclusions. For once, he felt they were equals. And because of this, he was pulling her closer, never wanting to let her go. And she was holding him just as tight.

“I’m sorry.” The words were spoken, truthful. Only this time, they weren’t coming from her. No, this time, they were coming from The Tall Genius. And she was pulling back.

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?”

The boy laughed, true and genuine. For once, she could see it reach his eyes. She’s always loved that about him— the fact that he was always able to smile through it all. Through all his pain, he was still able to find the happiness. “I’m at fault too, you know. One person can’t cause all of the destruction.”

“No, you’re perfect.” She believed it too.

“Trust me, I’m not perfect.” He paused, then added. “At all.”

Her hands made their way home— to the sides of his face. She noticed the way he leaned into her touch— he had missed her just as much. Maybe even more. “You’re perfect to me, Spence.”

He laughed again— music to her ears. She wished she could listen to it for the rest of her life. So, she said, “Don’t ever let me go, okay?”

He nodded, suddenly serious, “We’ll get this guy, and then I’ll never let you go again. Not until the day I die.”

And like she had wanted to since she had seen him earlier in the day, she pulled him to her. A kiss shared between them wouldn’t fix everything, but it sure was a start (and that’s all that mattered). “Not even then.”

A dazed look in his eyes. The same one he had after every shared kiss and every time she said she loved him. Though mind far off, he nodded and agreed, “Not even then.”

Then he kissed his girl again— like his life depended on it.

Because, even after all these years, it probably did.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg #dr spencer reid

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pennamesmith · 3 years

Text

Return of the Skeletor

A family reunion. Find more Skeletor stories here!

Micah remembered the other world.

Most people could, in fact. The whole planet was affected. They’d all lived a life they thought was perfect. They’d all imagined something intangible. The memories were faded and fragmentary, like the recollection of a dream, but everyone was certain it had really happened.

Even if nothing that had happened was real.

At first Micah didn’t realize anyone else had shared in the dream. He’d lost track of time on Beast Island long ago, and when the collapsing portal closed around him he only assumed it was one of the despairing wasteland’s many tricks. He never had long to dwell on the matter, either. Soon after finding himself returned to reality (he could remember shouting to Angella, reaching for her, trying to tell her “I’m not dead!”) Micah had met the loud and unusual Princess Entrapta. And after her there came…

“She-Ra! It’s She-Ra!” a nasally voice shrieked.

Micah was startled out of his reverie by a sudden clattering of hooves. The door to his Bright Moon office burst inwards and he was presented with the sight of a breathless Swift Wind. Sitting astride the rainbow-winged unicorn was one of Entrapta’s bots, a lanky drone she’d named ‘Skeletor.’

“The time has come!” Skeletor said.

“It’s true!” Swift Wind confirmed. “I felt the sacred bond return just a minute ago. Adora and the others are back from Eternia! Darla is over the Whispering Woods right now!”

“What?” Micah jumped to his feet, abandoning his desk without a second thought. It was covered in a mountain of paperwork: royal records, his regent’s duties, and the calendar pages where he’d marked off every day since Glimmer and the rest of the Princess Alliance left for their dangerous mission to another universe. He rushed to the door where Swift Wind was standing.

Skeletor reached out and helped Micah onto the horse’s back. “Join hands as we bring together our mystic powers!” the robot cried. Once Micah was settled, Swift Wind turned and leapt out the nearest window. They sailed through the skies.

“What’s going on? Are they all right?” Micah asked, with undisguised worry.

Swift Wind banked, soaring over the tree line. “I’m not sure! The ship is under control but — look, there it is!”

Darla, the rebuilt First Ones ship, was descending rapidly from the sky over the treetops. Her flight was steady, but parts of the hull were damaged, and smoke trailed from one wing. Suddenly the ship lurched and plummeted into the trees, vanishing from sight. A plume of vegetation went flying as it plowed to a smouldering stop.

Micah felt his stomach twist. “We need to get closer!” he called out in a panic.

“I can take you there!” Skeletor declared, urging Swift Wind toward the ground. They touched down by the edge of a long path of smoking destruction that stretched deep into the woods.

“They must have landed near here,” Skeletor deduced, observing the massive trench in the ground. He hopped off the horse’s back and ran ahead, making anxious utterances as he went.

Micah dismounted and walked beside Swift Wind. “I hate this,” Micah confessed. “The staying behind, I mean. At least on Beast Island I was the only one I had to worry about, and I was in control of my own survival. But having to stand by while Glimmer goes into danger? I’m so proud of her, yet I’m also so scared.”

“I know what you mean,” Swift Wind answered. “I trust Adora, but I also worry about her, like, all the time. Whenever we’re apart I get so restless. I just feel powerless!”

“Sometimes letting them find their own way is all we can do,” Micah mused.

They came into a clearing in the woods. Darla was there, sparking and steaming but generally intact. Skeletor hammered on the door.

“Here, let me try to get you out!” he called.

Something inside the ship made a noise. There was a hiss and a jet of steam, and Skeletor tumbled backwards, landing with a squawk at Micah and Swift Wind’s feet. They all stared at Darla, holding their breath expectantly.

The front hatch of the spaceship popped open. Entrapta erupted out of it, tumbling down the landing ramp in a ball of frizzled hair. She pulled her goggles up.

“Aha! We made it!” she crowed, taking in her surroundings. “All in the right dimension and everything!”

She reached into the recesses of her hair and emerged with a haggard Hordak. “Your piloting saved us! I knew you could do it!” she told him proudly.

Hordak squinted through half-lidded eyes. “Is it over?” he muttered. “Are we still alive?”

“Yep!” Entrapta wobbled to her feet and gathered her partner up in her ponytails. “Now, let’s get you a checkup and some rest. You’ve had a stressful voyage!”

She suddenly seemed to notice the gathered onlookers. “Oh! Hi Skeletor. Hi Bird Horse. Hi Micah. Guess what? You’re gonna love this!” Entrapta turned back to the ship. “Safe to disembark, crew!” she yelled, before trotting off with Hordak.

“Now we’ll see how clever you are!” Skeletor said.

Mermista peeked around the door. “Ground!” she cried, throwing herself across the dirt in relief. “I never thought I’d miss you so much!”

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad a flight,” Sea Hawk cajoled, helping her to her feet. “Why, I can think of a dozen — no, two dozen more harrowing trips I’ve taken in the Dragon’s Daughter XXVIII.”

“You fishmonger,” Skeletor scoffed.

Frosta was the next one out, followed closely by Perfuma and Scorpia. “Eternia was amazing!” the teenaged ice princess announced, brandishing a pair of frozen fists. “I got to punch so much stuff!”

“Come on, it wasn’t all violence,” Perfuma pleaded.

“Yeah, we learned a bunch about friendship and responsibility too,” Scorpia agreed.

“Punch! Punch!” Frosta said.

“You’re becoming evil, I can sense it!” Skeletor hummed approvingly. “Excellent!”

Catra and Adora came next, and they were accompanied by a young man Micah had never seen before. He had a pink shirt, bobbed blond hair, and bore an uncanny resemblance to Adora herself. A sword hung on his back. He blinked as he emerged into the light.

Swift Wind’s jaw dropped. “Adora! Is that…?”

“Hey guys!” Adora grinned sheepishly. “So, funny story. You remember how when I was a baby I was taken from a hidden First Ones faction that nobody has ever been able to find since?”

She held her hands out, presenting the newcomer. “Well, uh, we found ‘em! This is my twin brother, Adam!”

Adam smiled and waved. “Hello everybody,” he chirped.

“Brother?” Swift Wind sputtered.

“He-Man!” Skeletor bellowed.

The group fell into a chattering commotion, but Micah was hardly paying attention. Glimmer and Bow had appeared at the top of the ramp, holding each other as they looked out. Emotions that went beyond words swam in the young queen’s eyes.

Adora saw where Micah was looking and quickly pulled her brother away. “We’ll tell you the whole story later, sir! Trust me, it’s hilarious. Now come on, I gotta show you around Etheria, bro.”

“Sure thing, sis,” Adam replied, grinning hugely. They pounded their fists together, adding their own sound effects as they did so, and marched off laughing.

“They have been doing that the entire. Trip. Back,” Catra groaned, following close behind the pair. “Somebody save me.”

“You furry coward,” muttered Skeletor.

At the entrance to the ship, Glimmer and Micah hugged each other fiercely. When they finally broke, the old king could see that his daughter was smiling through her tears.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Glimmer sniffled. “So much happened. You wouldn’t believe how scary things got! Oh, but I totally had everything under control.”

“I know you did,” Micah smiled back. But he could tell there was more.

Glimmer’s face turned serious. “Dad,” she said shakily, tripping over her own words. “Listen. Entrapta’s theories about the other dimension were right. When we — I mean, didn’t know if…”

Bow stepped in. “Your highness, I think there’s someone you should see.” He beckoned gently. Still at a loss for words, Glimmer nodded and took her father’s hand, leading him inside the ship.

Micah’s heart was racing even before she rose from the chair and turned to face him. His breath caught when he saw the spreading wings, the shining light, the smiling face that he remembered so clearly.

Their eyes met. It was a miracle.

Just like on the island, a part of him couldn’t believe this was really happening. But it was.

They both reached out. They’d mourned each other once. Their hands met.

“Micah?” she asked, hardly believing it herself.

“Angie?”

Outside, both the princesses and their well-wishers had gathered around Adam, excitedly showing off the wonders of their planet. He gazed with delight at everything, marveling in the magical light of Etheria. His laugh brimmed with kindness.

Skeletor elbowed his way through the crowd. “I can’t let any of you delay me! Out of my way, now!” he jabbered. “This is no time for jokes!”

He made it to where Adora stood with her brother and glared. Adam turned in surprise, not sure what to expect. They stared at each other.

Skeletor held his arms wide. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment!” he cried. “Take this, He-Man!”

Then he lunged forward, and wrapped Adam in an enormous hug.

“He-Man, I am your friend!”

#spop #she ra fanfiction #skeletor #King Micah #Queen Angella #micangella #glimmer #prince adam #adora #swift wind #princess alliance #smith stuff

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sweetescapeartist · 3 years

Text

MY DBS MANGA CHAPTER 70 REVIEW

We learn in the last chapter that the Cerealian Dragon's name is Toronbo when Granolah speaks Namekian. Toronbo grants Granolah's wish but can't make Granolah stronger than the gods.

Here's the confusion I have... Goku is a mortal beyond GoDs so making Granolah the strongest mortal is making him stronger than gods. If you wanna say Beerus has been training and is now stronger than Goku, there's still a problem. It was said that Goku and Vegeta were stronger than some GoDs right before the ToP (but that might be anime only, so maybe it doesn't apply here). So Granolah is stronger than GoDs no matter what. If the gods that Toronbo is speaking of are the Angels, then that means Granolah is Ultra Instinct level of power since Goku is the lowest in Angel tier. But whatever. Bottom line is Granolah is temporarily stronger than Goku who may or may not be stronger than Beerus.

Granolah gets his wish granted and the cost is shortening his life... cool. Not much to say except let's see how its executed.

(I recently read that in DBXV2, during the Infinite History Saga, Videl is enchanted with Towa's Dark Magic spell by Dabura shaving off her life but granting her greater power. So granting power at the cost of lifespan has been done in DB before. Not in canon but in the games.)

Also, Granolah's life being shortened to 3 yrs got me thinking... Currently it's almost AGE 781 in the DBS manga timeline. Goku leaves to train Uub in AGE 784. We got 3 yrs left. The original manga shows Bulma said she hadn't seen Goku in 5 yrs. How I see DBS is that it is an alternate timeline that just happens to have a similar outcome to the EoZ.

So... why is Vegeta learing from Beerus again if Beerus isn't that strong now? Is Vegeta being like Krillin and continuing his learning from a master weaker than him, but gaining wisdom & knowledge? I-is Vegeta becoming Krillin 2.0?! (More like dollar-store Krillin)

I do think beerus got stronger tho. He seems very confident that Vegeta can get stronger from learning from him. Beerus probably saw Goku get UI then decide to train aftet the ToP

Anyways, Beerus is teaching us about hakai/destruction energy. Its erasing something from existence, not just destroying it (we already knew that). But, Vegeta quickly figures out how to do it anyways. By destroying a tiny pebble...

A tangent again but I personally think Piccolo is capable of easily learning Hakai energy. Think about it. Piccolo can create clothing out of nothing, why could he not do the reverse?

Goku is uninterested in what Beerus & Vegeta are doing. I dont know about you, but it sounds like Goku thinks that he's above Beerus in strength. Beerus & Vegeta aren't considered a challenge to him in any way. Goku sees UI as more important & better than anything Beerus has to teach, and Goku is right. Plus Goku learned Hakai on his own while Vegeta needs Beerus to teach him. It's a waste of Goku's time to learn it again.

(God Comics is funny. I imagine Toribot writes them)

Goku says "Let's see which one of us can be the strongest in the universe!" Really, Goku...? At present time, Goku is the strongest mortal in the universe already. He should know that. Then Vegeta for some reason thinks he will become the strongest in the universe. The last time manga Vegeta was the strongest mortal in the universe was... never. He's always behind Goku or whatever new opponent arises. This scene is meant to be comedic that they're arguing over who will be the greatest but it's not funny to me. And yet Vegeta fans still hold on for hope.

But why is Goku concerned about being the strongest between him & Vegeta? Goku is far above Vegeta. They're not rivals at this point. Also, Goku was the strongest in the universe until just a few moments ago. Goku should be saying "I knew bein' the strongest wouldn't last for too long. Roshi did tell me there will always be somebody stronger out there. Hehe! This is gettin' me excited! I can't wait to meet 'em!" (This would alsp parallel Monaito giving Granolah the same advice Goku already knows.)

Also, I guess Broly isn't that strong after all. Bye Broly, you served your purpose. And to think that Goku had said that he thinks Broly is stronger than Beerus...

Oh yeah. So Vegeta destroys a pebble. Impressive? Goku kinda gives a compliment or he is practically saying "Good job Vegeta! You're doing great following in my footsteps!" Seriously, this would be so much better and cooler if this seperate paths of training began right after the Universe 6 vs Universe 7 tournament. That would be the perfect spot to have them train under Beerus & Whis. [Vegeta using Hakai against Merged Zamasu, Goku able to fight Merged Zamasu temporarily because he is getting better at letting his body move on its own, Toppo & Vegeta using Hakai against each other as Goku & Jiren use power above GoDs. That would work so much better.]

Then Vegeta says he's gonna destroy bigger things soon... is that supposed to be more impressive? Its not. But this it to build up Vegeta even though there is nothing amazing about anything he is doing at the moment. Maybe later tho.

So Cerealians can't grow beards. Also I guess Granolah's race don't age? His hair grew when his lifespan was shortened but he has no wrinkles. It seems that they age more gracefully than Saiyans. If he has some wrinkles he would have looked cooler imo. Or those lines under the eyes at the very least. If the wish shortened his life & made his hair grow, it should have also showed that he aged. (Here's an edit I made of "Grampa Granolah." You're welcome)

And remember Vegeta destroying a pebble? Granolah can suddenly destroy big rocks! Cool right?! No? Its not cool? Showing Granolah destroy a much larger object right afterwards kinda belittles Vegeta's accomplishment.

Oatmil is surprised by a boulder exploding. This means one of 2 things. Oatmil is stupid & never saw an Granolah explode a boulder. Or it's implying that the boulder exploding is some technique Oatmil doesn't know of. Idk how he can tell its any different from just blowing up a rock with ki. I think it's supposed to be destruction energy. If it is then, ok. If getting his wish was so easy, then why can't he suddenly learn destruction as well?

Yay! Monaito! (This really should be a Namekian focused arc)

Granolah reminds me of Zamasu with his attitude a bit. Monaito tells him somebody stronger will definetly appear. Granolah has become like Vegeta and is over confident, so he is destined to get humbled. And think about this. Goku can probably train a bit and surpass Granolah within a week.

Granolah can now sense ki. Meaning he can have the destruction technique or UI, because why not?

Monaito blames himself for Granolah's actions. Its not your fault Monaito! You did nothing wrong! Dont be so hard on yourself.

Whis being a creep and peeping on people lol.

Granolah's hair growing was pointless because he cuts it off soon after. Nothing changed visually. This kinda reminds me of how Moro lost his arm. Goku gave him a senzu, Moro grew it back, & then Moro broke his arm when attacking Goku. Then Moro tore his arm off & reattached his old one. There was no need for Moro to grow his arm back then tear it off. Similarly, there is no need for Granolah to have grown long hair then cut it off.

Maki still brings a smile to my face. She & Gas stand out the most out of the Heeters. Maki's personality is kinda like Zangya combined with a teasing Bulma. Gas reminds me of a Krillin/Piccolo fusion with dreadlocks. I also ship Maki x Gas cause they're short and look cute together. (please don't be siblings so I can draw them together🤞)

Granolah fights Oil & Maki. I'm not impressed. They seem like they could be defeated by Chaoitzu (he's stronger than Raditz and probably Nappa now too). Granolah's movements could be seen as UI. If it is or isn't UI, it doesn't matter. Showing off that kind of power is like Goku using Ultra Instinct during a rematch with Nam or King Chappa. Its not effective storytelling. There had to be a better way of showing Granolah's new strength than making him fight opponents that give him zero challenge.

The art is good as usual and the panel flow is nice. Toyotaro is improving at creating the illusion of motion. The environment being used in the fight was smart and a good visual. Toyo still uses a ton of panels almost every page tho. But he's still a better artist than I am.

Granolah appears to have used Hakai again. Not the explosive variant but the sand variant (yes I think there are 2 ways of using Hakai).

The "Sand Variant" that Beerus & Goku (& maybe Granolah) have used.

The "Explosive Variant" Beerus & Vegeta (& maybe Granolah) have used.

Maki thinks the "Hakai" is magic so that's interesting. I would say I'd like for the next enemy to be a magic user but, we know how Moro turned out... 😓

Maki has "ki claws" & I like the idea but it would be better if she had used it against an enemy she can defeat. It doesn't make her look useful in this fight. Gas seems confident when he is about to fight Granolah, but Elec stops him. Gas would've gotten beaten but it make ya wonder what Gas can do.

Granolah appears to be a person that is easily manipulated and persuaded. He even gave information they weren't even asking for. He'll probably be easily convinced and manipulated by Freeza/the Hedters or quickly have a truce with Goku.

The Heeters plan to go to Planet Cereal to get the Dragon Balls. As I suspected, the Cerealian Dragon Balls were created so that it would be easy for wishes to be granted. Gathering 2 Dragon Balls on a nearby planet instead of gathering 7 on New Namek or Earth. Plus these new Dragon Balls ensures no interaction between Earthlings & Granolah/the Heeters. A perfect way to write Gohan & company out of the story... *sigh* 😔😒

We learn Cerealians live for 2 centuries. How's that compare to other races in Universe 7? Freeza & King Cold apparently can live more than 200 yrs, But that may be because they are mutants. Namekians can live for like 500 yrs & its possible for them to reincarnate themselves too. So in a way, Namekians can live forever. Saiyans stay youthful & live to be in their 80's, but rapidly age when they reach their 60's or 70's. Average Earthlings appear live to be in their 80's or 90's but some are over 100 yrs old (Dr. Briefs, Panchy, & Ox King are in their 90's in GT) and others can increase their lifespan through elixers or the Paradise Herb. Just some thoughts of mine.

Maki says "If he ices Freeza..." Ha, an ice pun. Elec wants to defeat Freeza so he can control his army. Its revealed they wanna kill Granolah & that they worked with Freeza to destroy his planet & race. Well... that more than likely means they're gonna die by Granolah's hand or Freeza's. This info is also an attempt to make the reader more sympathetic for Granolah. Granolah is too bland (pun intended) so I don't feel any more sympathy than I already had for him. Elec plans to make Goku & Vegeta fight Granolah since Granolah hates Saiyans. Smart but we all kinda expected it. Not bad writing tho.

The final panel talks about fate bringing the 3 (Goku, Vegeta, & Granolah) together. Sounds like a repeat of the Broly movie.

We've had 4 chapters in this arc & not 1 panel of Freeza... If Freeza doesnt appear & do something in the next chapter then I will be disappointed in the writing. Showing Freeza here and there would give tension and build up until we get the encounter with him. We also have no idea who Oatmil is. Is he an A.I. or a person? Not that big of a deal yet, but I would like to find out soon. Either show Freeza or tell us more about Oatmil next chapter pleaae

This chapter was like oatmeal (the food not the character) without butter, brown sugar, milk, & honey or raisins. Not bad, but not very good either.

So here's my thoughts on the things that could or could not happen in this arc.

Goku vs Granolah. I don't care for the fight because the power is at a point that it doesnt make sense for enemies to get to without cheating somehow. The fight will look cool but I have no interest in it.

Vegeta vs Granolah will have Vegeta being stomped as always and Vegeta fans will make excuses & complain how it's not fair. A lot of Vegeta fans often make fun of Yamcha & Krillin for getting beat up even though those 2 bravely fight opponents leagues stronger than they are. Vegeta has gotten stomped by opponents more times than Krillin & Yamcha combined but the fans gotta deflect somehow. I don't care to hear or see the complaining again.

The interaction and dialogue between Granolah & Vegeta is going to be more interesting than their fight. But I worry because Toyo isn't the best at writing dialogue.

I have no reason to care about power growth, certain interactions, or Goku & Vegeta's training.

What I am curious about/want to see?

Monaito's well being. I want him to reunite with other Namekians. But I think he's been set up to die.

Lore about the dragon gods & Namekian lore we probably wont get.

I want Piccolo, Krillin, Gohan, & others will be involved. Piccolo because of the Namekian & wosh granting dragon lore. Gohan because his interaction with Granolah eould be interesting since Gohan is half Saiyan & views himself as an Earthling. Krillin & other Earthlings because they can bring tensions where characters like Goku & Vegeta can't. Those 2 are too strong for there to be any real tension. However Earthlings aren't all powerful so them using wits to survive is more exciting. But I doubt any of their involvement.

How long a Cerealian year is? Is it shorter than a Namekian year? How much time will pass for the Cerealian Dragon Balls to be active? How much stronger than Granolah will Goku get? Hopefully the answers aren't lazy...

Will Beerus finally fight somebody? There are 6 mortals that are near or above his power (Goku, Granolah, Vegeta, Broly, Freeza, Gohan).

Who's the villian of the next arc & what explanation is going to be given for them having power on the level of Angels? Angel tier fights don't sound interesting to me anymore. After those kinds of battles, Goku will have no challengers left.

Will Goku disappear to train or something so the story can TRY to match up with the EoZ?

Will Goten, Trunks, & Marron hit their growth spurts within 3 yrs?

Will we get spin-off manga about other characters? PLEASE!? 🙏

Also DBS moved too quickly when it comes to power. Now we're at the point that Goku & Vegeta need to stop being involved in fights for there to be any actual threat or tension. The Buu saga took place in AGE 774. After training for 4 years of peace, Goku thought SS3 & fusion was his limits as a Saiyan and he was right. Well, kinda... Goku was introduced to god ki near the end of AGE 778. Then in AGE 781, Goku masters Ultra Instinct... He mastered an Angel technique in 2 year or 2.5 yrs. That was waaaay too fast. As a result the storytelling & writing are suffering from this rushed progress. Now we're gonna have an Angel tier opponent? According to the pattern of DBS, Goku's gonna end up surpassing the Angels within 2 or 3 yrs after learning god ki. Thats not impressive for Goku, that's terrible writing. And no, Goku getting this strong so fast is not a benefit to Saiyans either. It just shows us that without god ki, Saiyans ain't all that powerful unless they're the legendary Saiyan like Broly. Saiyans didn't even have a concept of training until Goku was trained by Earthlings. Gohan, Freeza, 17, & I'm pretty sure Piccolo as well have all surpassed SS3 without the help of god ki. God ki makes Saiyans look like they have limits. With god ki, the writing is broken....

I got off topic again... Anyways that's the end of my review.

#dbs manga review #dbs manga #dragon ball #db #dragon ball super #dbs #edited out the 10 yrs of peace because the original manga never says that

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askthekuvaqbrothers · 3 years

Text

It's all Fun and Games

(TW: Injury)

“I’m heading to work now.”

Hermes adjusted his coat, feeling a collision with his leg the moment he reached for the door.

“Don’t go!”

Holding in a small sigh, he knelt down and ran a hand through his son’s green hair.

“It will only be for a little while Cletus. Just be patient.”

“Then take me with you!”

“I’m going to work. It’s not a safe place for children.”

“I’ll be good! I’ll sit still!”

Hermes sighed, “You know if I take you, then the other two will want to come too.”

Cletus frowned, not at all pleased with what he was hearing, and frowned harder when his brothers came up behind him, Rufus prying at his arm.

“Come back, we can’t play Junk Knights and Orbit Pixies with only two!”

Hermes smiled, “See? You’ve obviously got a game going on. Time will fly while you’re playing, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

Argus joined in, pulling Cletus’ other arm, and successfully dislodging him from their father’s leg. Unimpeded, Hermes now took his chance to leave.

“Be good.”

The door clunked shut. Pulling from his brothers grasp, Cletus considered wailing on the door and crying for Hermes to come back, but the man’s long strides probably meant he was already far from the door, and crying was just grotty and exhausting. Besides, Rufus was already grabbing at him again.

“Back to you position pixie! I was just about to battle to the death against the evil Controller.”

“Yeah, you know it’s my favourite part.” Argus grinned, punching a fist into his palm.

“I don’t wanna. Let’s… play something else.”

Rufus pouted, crossing his arms, “Like what? It’s gotta be more fun than Junk Knights.”

“What about…” Cletus looked around the house, then to the door, before a devilish smirk grew, “Hide and Seek?”

“Lame!”

“-But we play it outside.”

Rufus’ eyes lit up, but Argus put his hands on his hips.

“We’re not allowed outside without Dad.”

“Yes, but he always takes ages with work, so as long as we’re back before him, he’ll never know.”

“Yes! Let’s gooo!”

Rufus ran straight to the window in the kitchen, being the only one that opened to let out the smoke that came with Hermes’ cooking. It required him to scramble up the cooking furnace, and once he was on top and at the windowsill, he paused to offer a hand.

“Hurry up! I already have a perfect hiding place!”

Argus stepped up, accepting the hand, and allowed himself to be pulled higher. As the space on the furnace became cramped, Rufus slipped out the window and Argus in turned helped pull Cletus (and the plush toy he never let go of) up. Once they’d cleared the fall, the three made their way to the centre of town, standing by one of Gizmo’s emergency call stations.

“Right! Since you wanted to change the game, Cletus, you’re the seeker.”

“Okay. I’ll close my eyes and count to a hundred then.”

The green haired boy adjusted Poisonous into the crook of his arm, then turned and began counting.

“One, two, three, four…”

With a grin Rufus sprinted off, vanishing into the warren of a town, Argus swiftly following after. When the sound of their steps on the metal walkways went silent, Cletus stopped counting.

“Finally.” He brought Poisonous to eye level, “Now, what should we do now that we have some peace and quiet?”

The plushie’s crooked eyes stared off.

“Impeccable idea. Perhaps we could even go for refreshments.”

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

It must have been almost half an hour later when Argus found Cletus lounging in the shade, absently patting his plush toy. He looked up, and tried to feign surprise when he spotted the glare.

“Oh, you found me?”

“I believe you were supposed to be the seeker.”

“Is that so? I must have misheard…”

“How long were you going to sit here?”

“Don’t know, how long were you hiding?”

Argus sighed, the one that made it known he was not in the mood to play along with Cletus’ game. The green haired boy pouted in turn.

“Well I caught on to your alternate game, but Rufus is still hiding.”

“…Can’t we just wait until Dad is back? He’ll come looking for us anyway.”

He looked up to where he could just make out the entrance to the mines. Argus followed his gaze and paused, thinking.

“I suppose that wouldn’t hurt. He can only ground us.”

Cletus relaxed, scooting over enough that Argus could have some shade too. Another hour passed by before they finally caught sight of Hermes striding out into the open, where the two chose to wave him down. When their father caught sight of them, he was clearly disappointed, until something else crept into his expression.

“Boys, what are you doing here? Where is your brother?!”

Cletus rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry, he’s probably still hiding from our hide-and-seek game.”

“How long ago was this?!” Hermes was quickly starting to panic, Rufus being the one he knew shouldn’t be left on his own, “We need to find him.”

“Sure, I guess so.” Argus stood, dusting himself off, “If we shout that he’s won he might come out?”

Cletus reluctantly stood as well, following his father and brother as they began calling out. Rufus not coming home honestly sounded like a good deal to him; no more being hit in his sleep, no more grubby fingers going through his stuff, more peace and quiet. Sure, Argus may start demanding more of him, but it wasn’t the worst trade off.

Another 30 minutes and there was still no sign of their red-haired sibling. There was also no signs of fire and/or explosive destruction, which was both a good and a bad sign according to Hermes. Good, in that they weren’t having to deal with a destroyed town, but bad in the question of what Rufus was up to instead.

“Maybe he fell asleep?”

“Maybe he fell in a hole. Maybe it’s a really deep hole, and we’ll never see him again.”

Hermes ignored Cletus’ comment, which cause the boy to frown. He didn’t understand what the big deal was, it was just Rufus. He’d heard people say that Hermes couldn’t handle three sons, so surely it would be better if he just had two now. They should just accept he was gone and go home. The sun was right above them now and the whole mountain the town was on had begun to boil, heat waves rising off every metal sheet used in its foundation, and Cletus could feel his pale skin begin to tingle-

“Found him!”

Argus was standing on a small mound, looking down into a ditch that wasn’t visible from just the normal paths. A large piece of metal on the edge of it was also free of rust, leaving it blindingly shiny and the prefect distractor. Hermes scrambled through the scrap to reach the hiding spot, dropping down to pick up the missing boy. As he re-emerged, Cletus felt his skin crawl.

Rufus’ skin looked almost the same colour as his hair, and in places it had clearly begun to blister. The idiot had been sitting in the sun the entire time, with both the sun beating down on him and the giant reflector next time him, and he hadn’t thought to move. As he was being jostled, said fool managed to crack open an eye.

“…n’fair, -in’t say Dad could help…”

To where he promptly went limp. With a semi-strangled noise, Hermes began to move back to town, giving a brief command to the other boys to follow as they beelined for Gizmo’s clinic.

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

“Heat stroke, and a nasty lot of sunburn. You know, there’s a wonderful thing called ‘common sense’…”

Hermes bowed his head further, ready to accept the usual lecture, but all he got was a sigh from the town’s medic as he returned to his desk.

“I’ve applied some salve to the burns, which will need to be re-applied regularly. I would like to say he’ll be bedridden for several days, but considering who we’re dealing with here, I suggest you enforce bed rest and make sure he doesn’t rub off the salve as it needs to set in. No running about, no going outside, no excessive play. And make sure he stays hydrated.”

Gizmo looked to the two healthy brothers, where while Argus nodded solemnly, Cletus’ gaze remained on the floor. There wasn’t any blame being passed about for why they were outside in the first place yet, but all Hermes had to do was ask and Argus would tell, and Cletus would find himself without dinner for the next week.

‘Stupid Rufus.’

Hermes thanked Gizmo, collected Rufus, and quietly told the other boys to follow. The whole trip home was in silence, and it was eating Cletus up inside. Even when they were inside, Argus watching over Rufus on the bed, Gizmo didn’t say anything, simply lighting the stove and beginning dinner. Cletus sat himself at the table, distractedly plucking at Poisonous’ threads, running over the many possible punishments that could be unjustly given to him. It wasn’t his fault Rufus was an idiot with no self-preservation, if he’d just hidden somewhere normal and safe then they’d all get off with just a grounding but no, he had to get himself hurt and make it a big deal and all the blame would fall on poor little Cletus for just wanting some peace and quiet-

“Are you not hungry?”

Cletus jumped, completely unaware time had passed to the point that dinner was in front of him, Argus and Hermes seated beside him.

“I-I…”

He didn’t understand why their father hadn’t asked yet. In fact, he only felt more confused when a hand rested on his head, soothingly running through his hair.

“It’s alright, I know it was kind of scary to see, but Rufus will be fine.”

This was wrong. That wasn’t his hang-up at all. Sure his own skin crawled at the sight of him now, but that wasn’t the issue. Was he really not going to ask why they were outside of the house, where he always told them not to be?

He stared into his bowl, before suddenly pushing away from the table.

“Are… are you not going to ask?”

Hermes tilted his head, “Ask?”

“W-why we were outside, why we hadn’t listened to you?” Cletus trembled, a confused jumble of emotions swirling within.

Argus eyed him, “…He wants to know why you haven’t punished us yet.”

“Punish-? Oh. Oh boys.”

Hermes carefully moved to kneel by Cletus, pulling him into a hug, before he offered an arm out for Argus to join. With two sons in his embrace, he let out a breath.

“Yes, I am disappointed you ignored my rules, and that it had led to injury, but more than that, I’m just thankful you’re all still here. I never thought I’d have a time in my life to be a father, but after everything, I now can’t imagine myself without you three.”

He squeezed them both tightly.

“I just hope that this world will last for you…”

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

“OW! DAAAAD!”

“Cletus, don’t poke you brother.”

“But he’s trying to lick the salve again! This is the only way to stop him.”

Cletus turned back to Rufus, only to see his brothers tongue going once again for the back of his hand, so he yanked at his bright red ear.

“OW!”

Now with a dollop on his finger, Cletus sniffed at the medicinal mixture, almost daring to taste it himself.

“It doesn’t even smell that nice.”

“It smells like a plant I bit once!”

There were many things Cletus could have questioned, but he didn’t get the chance as Argus came into the house.

“Gizmo said this should help.”

Hermes accepted what Argus handed him, and after turning it over in hand, he realised how it worked. With a reluctant sigh, he knelt before Rufus, and swiftly wrapped what was essentially a plastic cone around his neck. The boy squirmed, not coordinated enough to dislodge the device, before he accepted fate.

Neither of his brothers could resist laughing at the sight.

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

Bonus: The scribble that inspired this

#Deponia #Rufus #Cletus #Argus #Hermes #Kuvaq Brothers #Gizmo #Injury #Sunburn #Back when I was musing on when I foolishly got sunburnt a few months ago

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amberwild420 · 3 years

Text

one step back, two steps forward (pt. 27)

masterlist

Brand new

Tikki spots off!

Marinette muttered as she took out a macaroon and stared at the miracle box. Focusing on the miraculous in front of her she channeled her inner guardian to find out what she need for this battle. The bee miraculous called out to her.

Tikki.

Yes Marinette.

We need Chloe don’t we?

What do you think guardian?

Tikki flew around her head with a knowing smile. Marinette took a deep breath before opening her eyes. She looked determined. Calling for her transformation, she flew out.

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

Chloe pulled another child in the alley before gesturing to the adult to move as she looked from the corner. She could see the akuma and fortunately they had kept their back towards her general direction.

Normally she wouldn’t even dirty her hands. But that was before. Now she will be the best version of herself. She kept watching until she felt the presence of someone. Her trainings kicked in and she threw a punch at the culprit, who was ready for this.

Ladybug!

The blonde gasped before apology kept spilling from her lips. Ladybug laughed making her stop.

We need help. And we need help of a new hero. Normally I would be hesitant but I kept an eye on your behavior and honestly I’m proud of your change.

Chloe stood with her eyes blown. Did her idol said she wanted her back? Yes. Did she said she was proud of her? Yes. A small shy smile spread her face.

It’s not me. I......I got a lot of support from my friends.

I see. But you are not returning as queen bee. You need a new persona. A new name.

Chloe looked at the miraculous in ladybug’s hand. The past Chloe would have jumped at the invitation. But she was not the past Chloe. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the miraculous.

I will not betray your trust. Not this time. I will help you with the best of my ability. And even beyond if I have to.

Ladybug smiled and nodded. Chloe put the comb before the familiar Kwami came in view.

Pollen!

My queen!

The reunion was teary but they soon got over themselves. This was not the time or place.

Pollen, buzz on!

The transformation died before new bee came forward. Just like ladybug, her costume was mostly black with yellow highlights here and there. The thick chest plate and a pair of goggles on her eyes that looked like an insect’s eye. She also had a pair wings though larger and wider than ladybug’s.

Looking at ladybug with a serious look, she opened her winds before flying followed by ladybug.

Call me Honeybee when I’m in field.

Sure.

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

Just as they flew above the destruction, their eyes fell on chat attacking Luna. Soon enough, the akuma got hold of themselves and started firing beams.

Luna and chat ducked in opposite direction. Ladybug pointed towards the direction Luna was running off to and they followed her from above. Luna’s ear twitched indicating she heard them. Away from the firing range, Python and Ryu waited for them.

I got the hero we need in this fight most.

Ryu and Python looked at each other before looking at the new arrival.

Call me Honeybee.......and these are?

She looked at the floating drones which focused in and out to clearly see her.

Justice league wants to observe today’s fight. To see where we need help.

They listened?

Thank Luna for that.

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

Many winced again at the surprised face of the new hero like they ruthlessly ignored them. But then again they kind of did.

Many glared in the direction of green lantern who was tempt to throw off his ring and run away.

Should we ignore that there is a new hero just like that?

It’s up to guardian who they find worthy. Wonder woman said before turning towards the miraculous hero as they huddled together telling each other what they found. Since ladybug is a guardian, she will be the one to decide who is worthy to wield and when they are needed.

The silence spread over quickly, they had different views. For someone so young to get such a big responsibility suddenly without any warning. Normally they would like to take away such artifacts but this time it was not the case.

Batman sighed as he saw the group moving to contain akuma.

They need help. In any and every form they want.

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

I found out where akuma might be.

Luna dropped the bomb as they saw chat in the distance trying to get close to akuma who kept firing. The area already had a layer of frost on it.

We can’t get close to the akuma so everything must be precise and quick. As long as we don’t let her focus she won’t be able to fire her frost beam.

Where is the akuma?

Her necklace.

There was momentary silence before Honeybee opened her mouth.

It’s a hard to reach place for such akuma.

The team processed the information before letting a deep breath and looking at each other and nodding. They were heroes and it was there job to save innocent.

Let’s do this. Luna you know what to do. It would be you fighting head on and Ryu helping alongside. Splitting attention of the akuma before honeybee uses her venom, which will be our time to get akuma without risking our teammates.

Nodding, they all split up to put themselves in the position. Chat was still trying to get close to the akuma and he was getting frustrated. Luna and Ryu landed on a rooftop a little away from the firing range. Ladybug and Python hid away from the sight while Honeybee hid behind another building to get a perfect hit on akuma.

Let’s begin.

As soon as words left her mouth, both girls ran forward splitting up and running towards the akuma, successfully splitting her attention between them.

Uncoiling her whip, Luna started swinging it at the akuma who happened to be prepared and dodged but Ryu was faster and hit the akuma with her sword before jumping away just in time to avoid getting hit.

Luna swing on her whip before cracking it towards the akuma who nearly got hit in the face. Just as she was about to swing again chat tackled her on the ground.

What the hell do you think you’re doing!?

But he hissed instead and tried to claw her. Sensing danger she kicked chat before rolling away just in time to avoid getting hit by the beam.

Meanwhile the justice league headquarter was in chaos. Wonder woman and robin were ready to throw hands.

I’m going to kill that cat! How dare he hurt my sister?!

He is a stain on the name of warrior. If I didn’t stop him in the name of miraculous and Amazon, I’ll be guilty.

They barely managed to stop them before threatening them.

Do you both want to get akumatized? Adding more to their job then it already is?

Batman gave ‘bat glare’ making two of them stop, though he himself was reluctant. The emotionally constipated side of him wanted nothing more than to help those children but the more logical side of his was winning as he sat down to see the fight, reluctantly.

Luna panted as she looked both sides. She was switching between fighting chat and helping Ryu against sleep deprive. And honestly she was near the end of her patience. He kept hissing and attacking her like all of the situation was her fault. At one point he tried to cataclysm her. There is still a chunk of earth missing.

You did realize that you are attacking the wrong side?

I wouldn’t if you weren’t here! Chat yelled. His eyes looked like he had gone crazy. Darting widely and hissing at her every time.

Just as he was about to attack her, Ryu kicked him away.

He is seriously pissing me off!

Taking a deep breath, Luna tried to compose herself before pausing.

It’s quiet.

She whispered and slowly looked at the akuma. For some reason she didn’t attack them. And they could see why.

The blaster on her chest was glowing. It was the only one the akuma hadn’t used until now. And they knew why. The akuma went quiet to charge the main one. The purple glow went brighter and brighter before a bigger beam was released. The one that was destroying everything in its path.

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

(Ignore the guy and his magic circle. also imagine that the beam is purple instead of yellow. purple is the major color of most akumas.)

Luna! Ryu! Get out of there!

The area turned brighter and brighter until they had no choice but to cover their eyes.

Luna! Ryu!

#One Step Back #two steps forward #miraculous ladybug #character development #character death?#chat noir is an ass #ladybug worries #Miraculous Friends

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miss-tc-nova · 3 years

Text

A Way Into the Future - Luxu

Alright, we’ve got the green light kiddos! So, without further ado, here’s my piece for the Shattered Fates - Foretller Zine. Enjoy!

Music Inspiration: I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead - Set It Off

~~~~~

Footsteps echo off the stone walls of the underpass beneath the Outer Gardens. One set—much faster than the other—struggles, moving unsteadily and with a lot of panic. It’s no wonder considering the owner of said steps took quite a beating. He put up a decent fight, but poor Braig had no hope of prevailing against his tormentor: a legend, a man of time, a Master—Luxu.

Ruthless yellow lights barely have the power to illuminate the tunnels, but the young man doesn’t need to see to know the man hunting him is not far behind.

As the black coat stalks persistently closer, his prey stumbles down the path, unaware that he’s being driven straight into a trap—doing everything that the stalker had intended to a T. Luxu has spent many years refining a variety of skills, both combative and strategic; coercing his victims into his snare is child’s play. Decades of thought have gone into formulating the criteria for his perfect vessel and, unfortunately for the young man, he matches every point perfectly.

Unbeknownst to the Radiant Garden native, Luxu had scouted his playground days prior to this encounter and had collapsed the only escape that gave his victim any prospect. His hope is effectively crushed at the sight of the clogged tunnel.

Eyes wide with pure terror, he turns back to Luxu. The sharpshooter has a quick draw, even in fear, but it proves just as useless as it had before. Barely any thought is spent on the barrier that prevents the bullets from reaching their mark.

“I already told you resisting me was useless,” Luxu drawls. “All this fear and pain could’ve been avoided if you had just done as I asked. But I guess it’s only fair to assume any self-respecting warrior worth his salt would struggle.”

Backed against the debris, the kid quivers. To his merit, he maintains his aim, despite how utterly doomed he is.

“What do you want with me?!”

Luxu pauses his approach. “Hmm, let’s see—that brand new job you just took at the castle is a good start.”

“A job? You want my job? I-I can talk to my boss! Just let me talk to Ansem!”

“I hate to tell you, kid, but I need more than your job. I need your entire existence. Or more specifically, I need your body.” The boy’s petrified face goes pale. “My scapegoat has finally arrived; things are about to get very interesting and your life perfectly fits all my needs. Now, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop struggling; I’d like to avoid injuring that body any more than necessary.”

As he closes the gap and the boy cowers beneath him, Luxu recalls how he came to be here, stealing the bodies of young men.

~~~~~

“Master, what is this?” the young man asks, looking over the paper and not entirely sure he’s read it correctly.

As he has many times before, Luxu stands in the Master’s study. The room is filled with books, vials, and plenty of objects of which Luxu couldn’t even guess the purpose of. The only thing he can be sure of is that none of it is as it seems, and that broad statement brings with it its own sense of security. It has always been filled with wonders and the Master seems to introduce him to a new one each time he visits. This time is no exception.

The eccentric man folds his arms. “What do you think it is?”

His voice catches in his mouth. He’s read it over once, twice, but surely, he must be mistaken. “This sounds like a method for taking over someone’s body.”

“Bingo! You are correct, sir!” the Master praises, waving his hands animatedly.

“WHAT?!” In his exclamation, young Luxu throws the paper in the air.

His master snatches the fluttering paper. “Don’t lose it! I only have one copy of that!”

“Okay, one, why don’t you make another copy? And two, why do you know how to possess someone’s body?!”

“Oh, I don’t know how; this is all just theory. I wrote it this morning.”

His master never fails to perplex him. “And you think I need it why?”

“Because you’re only human,” the Master of Masters replies. “That body of yours will become old and decrepit and weaken over time but your job will be far from done. So, you need some way to continue living and persist into the future.”

The Master may be a strange man, but it’s no secret that he enjoys pulling emotions from his pupils—his favorite being shock. Luxu has made a point to accept his master’s eccentricity and all it entails, having come to see the unpredictability as predictable. It’s been a long time since the Master has been able to truly flabbergast the young man.

Luxu’s arms wave in disbelief. “And you think body snatching is the way to do that?!”

Matching the animated gestures, the Master retorts, “Well do you have any other bright ideas?!”

Luxu glances away. “Couldn’t you figure out immortality or something else?”

The Master holds his arms up in an X. “Absolutely not. Immortality is far more complicated and we just don’t have time for that. So, this is your only hope of completing your task.” Again, the paper is pushed into Luxu’s hands. As the student stares at the page, the Master’s tone turns serious. “Remember, while the others have very important roles, everything hinges on the success of yours. If you don’t see this through, the Book of Prophecies won’t be written and things will fall in ruins.” His tone drops even more, almost as if he’s threatening his pupil. “And all those people you care about will die for nothing.”

Those words strike the young man. Aced, Ira, Invi, Gula, and Ava—they’re family. Even if they sometimes bicker and disagree, Luxu grew up with them. He already disliked the idea of them fighting, possibly to their destruction, but they’re all fighting for the light’s survival. If he doesn’t do his job, they’ll lose their guidance and their struggles will be meaningless—his family will die in vain.

But taking someone else’s body and losing his own: it’s unthinkably horrifying. He’d never considered that his body could be disposable; that something so undeniably “Luxu” could just be swapped out as easily as his coat. These thoughts become too much to deal with in this moment, so he decides not to. Still, he can’t simply throw away a key aspect of his master’s orders, so the paper is carefully folded and tucked into his jacket to address later.

“Thank you for your guidance, Master,” Luxu murmurs.

Back to his light-hearted self, the Master of Masters slings an arm around Luxu’s shoulders. “That’s more like it. Now, let me show you why you’re going to need that paper.”

~~~~~

Spasms wrack every gasp he takes. They come not from his chase of the now-unconscious man at his feet, but from the seriousness of what he must do next.

Staring down at his very first victim, he feels a heavy guilt in his chest. Based on what’s written, he can only assume the original heart will be ejected and either become a Heartless or ascend to Kingdom Hearts. This man had no say in the matter; he was hunted down like a dog and endured only terror and pain in his final moments. He’s still young and could’ve had a full life ahead of him filled with happiness and adventure. He had potential but Luxu deemed him a lamb for slaughter.

Luxu shakes his head; he can’t have these sorts of distractions dragging him down.

The old parchment slips from his pocket, a perfect cross forever creased into its aged surface. Instructions written in black still read perfectly clear despite time’s efforts. He’s read and reread the page thousands of times, each time going through the shock of what exactly is being asked of him: ice shoots through his veins while his skin scorches, a suffocating grasp squeezes at his throat, and a violent churn nearly upheaves his stomach. The possibility of failure reels in his mind, threatening to evolve into a full-blown panic attack. He spent his whole life as himself—as Luxu—but now, for the sake of light itself, he must discard that. Just thinking about looking in a mirror and not recognizing the face looking back reminds him of his nightmares. Supposedly, his heart will retain his memories, but he still worries over exactly how much of himself he’ll get to keep; after all, sacrifices for such sins must be made.

The tremors in his chest have spread, shaking the page in his gasp. A deep breath does nothing to soothe his fears but allows him to regain focus. He reminds himself that this is for the existence of everything—for the people he loves. It doesn’t matter if he’s scared, it doesn’t matter if he loses himself, it doesn’t matter if the people who matter don’t recognize him, he has no choice.

Sighing, he lets the paper float to the ground, letting his eyes linger on the victim at his feet. He can’t let himself dwell on anything lest his mind trail back to his fear. He gets started.

Clearing his head, he rests both hands against his chest. The suggested mental imagery serves him well while his heart begins to compress. He remembers the most important parts of himself—the things about himself he values—and imagines placing them in a box. His personality, skills, and knowledge are added inside. Memories follow suit; all the good, the bad, and the in-between are stowed away as important, for they have shaped the person he’s become. The young man takes great care in packing all of himself away.

As these things fade from his conscious mind—all bound to his heart for transfer—the darkness stalking at the edges of his mind begins encroaching on his thoughts like wolves prepared to devour him. Luxu’s natural instincts react in fear, causing the man to tremble and his physical heart to pound in his ears. Just like the darkness, a chill creeps along his quaking limbs, his control over them waning. With every bit of himself that he stows away for his next life, the little rationality that must stay behind cowers in terror. He would simply do away with all his senses, but he knows that some of his consciousness must stay to facilitate the move. He must suffer this fear and lose part of his mind to succeed.

The body to be left behind is nearly shut down. His throat closes, no longer able to draw air into his spasming lungs. He has no idea if he’s doing anything right or if he’s even ready, but the innate fear of death has him in a panic. He has to go now.

Eyes snap open, nothing but bright light consuming his vision. This is it; this is where he discards everything he is. This is the point of no return. With the dread as potent as ever, his consciousness fades as he sends the light on its way.

Instantly, Luxu becomes aware of the intense, stinging pain. Every nerve is like a needle, searing at his heart. He would absolutely be screaming if he could but, as it currently stands, he has no access to any vocal cords, let alone a mouth.

A firm pressure resists his heart, struggling against him. The way it reverberates is reminiscent of his own screams. This is his victim, desperately fighting to keep control. Their panic gives them strength, allowing them to push against Luxu to the point he feels his grip slipping. A desperate alarm shoots through him, fueling his struggle.

As it turns out, Luxu’s fear is stronger than that of the man he’s possessing.

Resistance suddenly stops. Slowly, the presence of the other heart begins to fade, allowing Luxu’s heart to fill the hole left behind. The pain begins to ebb at an unbearably slow rate, but there is solace in the fact that it is fading.

His consciousness begins unfurling within his brain as he lies on the ground gasping. Comprehension begins weaving through the unpacking, bringing attention to what exactly just happened. He hadn’t been prepared for resistance; he didn’t know he could still lose after disarming his target. There was no warning for that. If Luxu’s heart had lost the struggle, he would’ve been expunged, become a heartless, and failed his task; he would have failed his loved ones. And this is only his first time.

It takes an eternity for the agony to fade enough and allow him to assess the body. It’s all still sensitive, like a limb falling asleep and waking back up, only far more intense. Nevertheless, he manages to open his eyes. Even they feel the stinging, giving him blurry vision. Nerves feel like fire as he struggles to raise a hand. The trembling extremities are different: the skin tone is a shade off, fingers are slightly longer, and there’s no sign of a mole he used to have on his wrist. It’s strange to feel and control the hand of a stranger.

It takes some time for all the nerves to properly connect. Small repetitions get the muscles moving as they should, and after a few hours, he is able to stand. Weak legs hold him up while he tries to regain his bearings. Palms press against his eyes, struggling to get rid of that remnant sting.

When his hands drop, he finds nothing. The expelled heart is gone and so is the body he left behind. There is no going back.

The old paper flutters, threatening to fly away. However, this is only the first of many stolen bodies and he will need those instructions to repeat the move in the future.

Reaching down, he scoops up the paper. The action nearly topples him. Despite his careful decision for this particular individual, he couldn’t find someone exactly like himself. There are still differences that will take some getting used to, driving home one very important, horrendous fact.

He is no longer Luxu.

He is no longer himself.

The reality finally kicks him in the gut, bringing him back to the ground where a foreign scream tears from his mouth.

~~~~~

“You’re crazy! Stay away from me!”

The cry drags the man back from age-old memories. Braig is the latest of his numerous casualties.

Luxu could’ve stopped long ago, given up his master’s orders and spared so many ignorant hearts—innocent people didn’t have to die for this. However, sacrifices must be made for sins, and Luxu’s been paying his due. With every bit of himself left behind, the rest naturally tries to fill in that hole, but it’s not the same. The new pieces become influenced by the suffering and bitterness Luxu endures with each move, filling him with more and more darkness. That’s not to say darkness is a bad thing, but it fuels the apathy born from repeated trauma.

Luxu’s views on humanity have deteriorated; each passerby could die at his feet and he would simply step over them. Those chosen as new vessels hold some interest, but he no longer has any qualms putting them down. Only the people he started this journey for mean anything to him now; they are the only light left in his unrecognizable life. They would likely look down on him with disappointment, scold and abhor him, but he would burn every world in existence for their fates. But the end is near. The scapegoat has finally shown himself and soon Luxu will be free of this burden—his family will return to him. No matter what wrath he may incur from them, the relief of the end is just too tempting to spare this last victim.

Luxu shrugs. “You might be right about that; repeatedly losing part of your mind does that to a guy. Unfortunately for you, there’s nothing more dangerous than an insane person with a goal. You were simply the poor soul that caught my eye this time.”

“N-No! Please!”

Having done this so many times, Luxu doesn’t even need the instructions, so he burnt them long ago. His mind already begins to pack away the things he wishes to carry forward and the chill starts in his fingers.

“Sorry, but everything I’ve dedicated my life to hangs in the balance. Neither of us have a choice here. But don’t worry—this isn’t my first time and I’ll ensure it’s as painless as possible.”

As he strides closer, the man scrambles closer to the wall. Fear shines brightly in his eyes, but it doesn’t faze a man who’s seen it so many times before—who’s endured it so many times before.

“Take a deep breath, Braig. It’ll all be over soon.”

#kh luxu #zine feat nova #luxu

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anangelicday-mrwolf · 3 years

Text

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 70 – Stepping Into the Daily Life (Last Chapter)

“Frankenstein...”

For the second time, Lunark and Muzaka sang in unison, the former out of anxiety and the latter out of fluster.

Lunark was making pretzels out of her arms and legs in her lord's presence, in snow-white dress shirt loosely curved around her form and black shorts that werewolves don when they must find themselves on examination tables or in experimental tanks.

Her style could not even meet the minimum demands to qualify as “stylish,” but Muzaka knew that she would never dress like this on her own.

Inevitably, his suspicion was directed to the man standing next to her, and Muzaka mercilessly spun his eyes and kicked at his head to blueprint the plan the blonde man was harboring.

And then Frankenstein fired a shot aimed right through his calm.

“Lunark and I are together.”

The unseen flame shattered Muzaka's eardrums, to hop and bounce between gyri and sulci of his brain and throw out his poise.

“Don't tell me... You mean, 'together' together?”

“'Together' together.”

“Frankenstein!”

I'd thought I told you to please make sure she'll give up on her feelings!

How can you do this to me?!

Muzaka could not do anything more than keeping his lips parted in frenzied shock, lest she learn about the secret deal he made with Frankenstein.

Much to his relief, Frankenstein knew how to keep a secret a secret.

“I'm aware of what you fear. Of course you'd fear. You should know very well what human-werewolf love is like. After all, - forgive me - you had to suffer grievous parting with Lady Eileen and Miss Ashleen.”

At once, Muzaka's lips furiously collided with each other, at the mention of names that had been flowers and thorns engraved into his heart.

Now the petals have fallen, the thorns removed, leaving behind only nostalgic perfume, which he can now relaxedly albeit rarely articulate.

In this case, however, perhaps because they came after Frankenstein's withdrawal from his request, Muzaka was quite unhappy.

He would have been caught in rage not long after, if it were not for his knowledge that Frankenstein will never break a promise unless there is a very good reason to.

“You wish Lunark wouldn't even catch a glimpse of what you had to walk through. There's no guarantee that she will be safe from the sabotage from her own kind. Love with humans is considered a taboo in your clan. But you don't wish to leave this pseudo-tradition untouched, do you?”

Right afterwards, Frankenstein was pinned with arrow-stares silently demanding explanations.

“I could feel various changes gliding over your domain ever since you returned to the throne. Such as, training warriors based on their natural-born power, untainted by experiments or body modifications. Improvement on relations with nobles. Demise of history of sacrificing your very kind, under orders of Maduke. And I bet amelioration of the counterpart with humans is included on your list. 'Cause lately the wolfkind has benefited from humans, not limited to me. And in order to do that, don't you think you must turn the table in favor of relationships with humans?”

“...So, you're saying I should make use of your relationship?”

“Consider it a destruction for creation. We'll destroy the wall that must now be brought down, to give rise to the seeds waiting to sprout from underneath.”

No sound came from Muzaka, but he was deliberating.

Frankenstein was right; with new era must come new rules, according to which he must remove the disconnection between mankind and wolfkind.

And Frankenstein was offering a hand in this matter, which as a werewolf lord he must accept it.

Lunark's face was a hint that Frankenstein was not the sole advocate of this suggestion.

As for Muzaka's secondary concern, he dreaded that Lunark will not be able to fully dedicate herself to the QuadraNet Project and post-eradication of the Union due to her unreciprocated love.

That is, unreciprocated love that will soon assume a wholesome relationship and thus serve no more as bars in her path, if Frankenstein is to make her emotions flow freely like thawed river.

And yet Muzaka could not help but weigh the pros and cons, as he was worried that Lunark's choice will eventually turn into a tragedy.

Lunark knew this, and hence she decided to be a lawyer for herself.

“I know you care for me, my lord. You have been caring for me ever since I was a child. But trust me when I say this - the reason why I choose this path is not because I expect only happiness.”

As Lunark put together her words, her hand slowly snaked its way towards the man standing next to her, to clasp his fingers and show how iron-hard their hearts are woven.

“When there's spring, there's winter. When there's light, there's darkness. In other words, when there's darkness, there's light. And when there's winter, there's spring. That is our world. That is life. So is love, I believe. When there's happiness, there's misfortune. When there's misfortune, there's happiness. Happiness is not the only treasure I expect inside the chest. I have simply chosen to open it.”

Tremor evaporated from Lunark as her speech carried on.

The pair of pink diamonds on her face was sparkling with conviction instead of credulity, with confidence instead of arrogance.

“It doesn't matter how stormy our path will be. No howl of rain or avalanche of water will make us release each other's hand. So please, put your faith in us and watch us. Nothing can stop us, as long as we're together.”

Tremor was gone from Muzaka as well, by the end of her deliverance.

But the werewolf lord's mouth was fixed in its place, not even as much as mumbling what is winding in his head.

And Frankenstein's patience was on a strike for the day.

“If this is how things will be, I will expend one of my wishes right now.”

Lunark merely let her head lean on her shoulder, clueless about Frankenstein's so-called wish.

In devastating contrast, Muzaka's eyes tumbled up and down, in overwhelming disbelief of what he had just heard.

“You said you will grant me any wish, as long as it's in an earthly power. I hereby state my first wish - I want you to be the carrier of banner in support of our relationship.”

Muzaka shook his head, while Frankenstein eyed Lunark as a promise of details after this.

“For the love of wolves, I bet no one can best you when it comes to stabbing my sanity at the least expected moment. How can you pull that one from under your sleeve right at...”

“So? Are you saying you can't?”

“...Of course not. I gave you my word. It only makes sense for me to keep it. But you don't need a reminder of what would happen if you so as much as even drive her to tears, do you?”

Muzaka half-heartedly laid out his warning, to which the pair responded with a beam.

A beam that ultimately urged a smile from Muzaka, which turned out to be short-lived thanks to Frankenstein's follow-up.

“And allow me to use my second wish. I need you to give Lunark holidays right now. Two months would do it.”

“Say what?! You can't demand it without any prior dis...”

“I already had a discussion. We already had one.”

“No, I meant...! Okay, sure, talking to Lunark is one thing, but you didn't discuss it with...!”

Muzaka could not even finish his words, before he pushed the palm of his hand into his forehead.

He knew nothing can beat Frankenstein when he is in his deal-with-it-for-all-I-care mode.

“No wonder Lunark is dressed like that. This is what you had in mind?”

“Obviously. Lunark's duties are not impossible at the hands of other warriors, are they? Not to mention Union can only watch themselves as the result of the recent trouble at Seoul; their manpower has already dwindled before the event. Which is why this would be the perfect time for Lunark to enjoy a vacation.”

Peaceful was his voice, but Frankenstein was basically rubbing - no, stabbing into Muzaka's face that he is more than willing to have a discussion involving fists and claws if he is not to issue a pass from the office for Lunark.

Soon enough, the werewolf lord nodded and waved his hand.

“Fine. I'll make sure Lunark's absence will not hinder us for the next two months. Now run along. Be free.”

“My gratitude, my lord.”

“Much appreciated, Lord Muzaka.”

Frankenstein and Lunark bowed and turned to leave, but then Muzaka unzipped his lips after a bit of delay.

“Lunark.”

“Yes, sir?”

A momentary silence captured Muzaka, gazing at Lunark with her body rotated halfway towards him.

“Nothing. You look beautiful today.”

Replied Muzaka, his lips curled into a somewhat nostalgic, wistfully affectionate curves.

'Ashleen... Eileen...'

As soon as Lunark and Frankenstein left with a brief smile, Muzaka scooched into his throne, to resummon the scent ghosting within his heart.

Lunark had no fear for winter or darkness, as long as she had Frankenstein with her, so she claimed.

It was reminiscent of his stance when he met Eileen. And when he had Ashleen.

A stance that was closed off into a tragedy.

Nevertheless, for some reason he could not help feeling this will not be the same for the two of them.

Which is why in reality, he had been smiling inwardly as Lunark was speaking in defense of their relationship.

And he was about to give in to their protest, which was preceded by Frankenstein's use of his wishes.

'Looks like my clan is now walking towards an actual change. Eileen... Ashleen... How I wish I could have met you two in this era.'

Regret cannot undo or do what is done or not done.

For now, the only thing he can do is to light up his hope for the future and pray for luck.

So that one day, relationship between humans and werewolves will be but part of daily life.

'I know you two can do it. So just stay the way you are, loving and beautiful.'

*****

Few days later, KSA headquarter

“What's up? I'd thought we've still got time until the departure.”

Yuigi was checking her bag for one last time, before she turned towards her visitor.

“Are you sure you won't regret this?”

“Of course I'm sure. You don't take me for some toddler, do you? I think you've gotten your standards too high, now that you're way out of the Union agents' league, including mine. You seem to have forgotten how I used to lounge at the top of the pyramid called the Union.”

“That's not what I...”

Takio could not hide his disappointment.

They had previously plotted a scenario of signing her name on the list of tenants at Frankenstein's house.

He was expectant to see her impeccably freed from the shadow of the Union, to relish an ordinary life.

And she knew what he was thinking.

Yuigi had been lost.

She had been lost between her life as Yuigi of Cerberus and her long-lost life as Raciela, like a frog unwelcome at both the earth and the water.

But now she was even convinced that the reason why she had been lost, crouched without direction and assurance, was simply to hop higher than she could ever pull off in the past.

“I'll be fine. I have found the new direction in my life. Now it's my duty to dedicate myself to my new mission and pay for my days at the Union. So don't worry and be faithful to your ordinary life. Do that for me. Besides, it's not like this is the last time we'll ever see each other. We'll be talking on designated basis, and I'll drop by whenever I need maintenance on my kits. I'll see you then.”

Takio's disquiet disappeared as he listened to her.

He was relieved.

She may not be able to take on an ordinary life, but there is no need to worry about or be sorry for her.

She just proved that she has landed upon the new agenda of her life as well as a respite of heart, and that was good enough for him.

“I like the coffee from that cafe we visited. I'll make sure to buy you back. So wait for it.”

And that was when Yuigi - that was when Raciela smiled.

For the first time, she smiled a smile full of a human heart, no longer an artificial sneer.

*****

“You ready?”

The 3rd Elder greeted Raciela upon her entrance to the KSA rooftop.

The white-haired man was donning a long coat identical to hers, hooded and furnished with a heavy backpack, surrounded by Tao, M-21, Taesik, the doctor, Yeonsu, Sangin, and Raizel, whose phone was connected live-time to Lascrea and the heads of noble clans standing in the Lord's Hall.

Then at last, the last of the gang made their arrival.

“Boss!”

“...Lunark?”

“What are you doing here...?”

Lunark's feet effortlessly glided upon the rooftop, and the 3rd Elder made a stiff, awkward recognition with his eyes, in acknowledgment of the length of hiatus in their encounters.

Pow!!!

At then the werewolf lashed out an unwarned punch, driving the man right to the edge of the building.

“M-miss Lunark! He's no longer sturdy enough to...”

“Handle my power. Yes, yes. I know. I knew that. My fist knew that. I heard how his perfection as a cyclist has been undermined, to the point that he now needs training wheels to ride a bike. Which is why I made sure you wouldn't get to hold a funeral for that guy.”

She was telling the truth, the 3rd Elder realized, as he put himself back on his feet, rubbing a side of his face.

His face did throb, so hard that he wanted to stick his hand and rummage through his head to check and see if his brain is intact.

Contrary to the pain, the only damage he suffered was abrasion that would take less than a minute for recovery.

Plus, he could see how Frankenstein was smirking behind Lunark, his arms crossed.

He and Frankenstein did have a word about his betrayal, which ended - sort of - with apology and forgiveness.

Apparently such process did not completely rinse off the grudge, and the 3rd Elder had no say in this matter.

He knew he deserved it; actually, he deserved more, he thought.

Lascrea's question chimed through the phone.

It was a rare occasion for her to start off a conversation with a voluntary question.

And not a syllable or a vowel has changed with the 3rd Elder's answer.

“I'm positive. This is what I must do. I must pay for the choice I made out of fear. And for the losses and sacrifices I called upon as a result.”

When he held Helga's hand, the 3rd Elder was full of fear.

He feared his followers' sacrifices, the Union's labor, and his tears would be wrong.

He feared his followers, the Union, and he would be wrong.

Wrong, fruitless, and in vain.

However, now he has accepted the truth.

He accepted that his followers, the Union, and he were wrong.

He accepted that he has been forcing himself to be deaf and blind to the truth that had been with him since long ago.

“The Union was originally based on the human crusade for the welfare of mankind. I admit the Union's standing point and pathway have been lethally distorted for the past few centuries. So now it's only logical to cleanse the Union's orbit and spend its final resources and manpower for what is truly meant for humans. So now there is only one thing the Union must do - making itself gone for the sake of mankind, and thereby protecting the ordinary world for the ordinary souls. And I shall take my responsibility for the past, the misdeeds, and the sin of the Union. And for the calamity at Seoul.”

Quoted the 3rd Elder, in solemn announcement of his motive for repentance.

“I'm afraid I can't set for you the date, but once the last shade of the Union is wiped off clean... I will gladly hand over my life. I know I am being more than shameless, but please, I'd like to ask you to wait until then.”

And he gave his word that he will never again betray these people.

He will never again betray the mankind.

He will never again betray himself.

The white-haired Icarus who blindly coveted the sun's position was saved from his plummet towards the sea by these people - those endeavoring to protect ordinary life - as well as the ordinary people.

The moment his steps were about to carry him off the concrete floor, the 3rd Elder whispered an addition.

“...Benjamin.”

All eyes and ears perked up at an unfamiliar name.

“It's Benjamin now. That is my true name. The name I shall answer to from now on.”

Sheepish but true, that was the smile from Benjamin.

That was the last of himself he exhibited before taking himself and Raciela away towards the horizon.

And Frankenstein was the one to break the still that lingered.

“You okay? Let me see your hand.”

He inspected her hand, his every contour and plane dripping concern.

“Aww, maybe I should have loosened up a bit. My hand stings a little.”

Lunark stage-whined, sticking out her hand free of any speck, let alone a wound.

A sight that gave the spectators an illusionary impression of watching how their sanity was being burned alive.

“We need to talk about this. When did they end up... Like that?”

“By 'like that,' are you referring to what I'm thinking?”

“Probably. Did you see his face when Miss Lunark punched Mr. Benjamin? He appeared ecstatic... And enamored. By her.”

“But is it just me, or do they actually look great together?”

After indulging in a brief moment of fluff and endearment, Frankenstein turned to face the crowd.

“Now why don't we scatter? We must go.”

“Go where?”

“Go out for our very first date.”

All listening mouths fell open at the fall of a four-character vocabulary they fathomed not even a pact with the devil could pull out from his throat.

That is, all mouths except for Raizel's lips.

Frankenstein made a serene smile as he met Raizel in the eyes, a sign that he had made his choice.

“I shall see you later, master.”

As always, Raizel responded with a gracefully breezy smile.

It did not take long for the rest of the audience to catch up with their atmosphere, curl the corners of their cheeks, and shower the two in celebration.

“To be honest, I was wondering when you two will officiate it.”

“Congratulations, Mr. Ex-Chairman.”

Not losing their focus on each other even a bit in the middle of the pleasant commotion, Lunark and Frankenstein jumped towards the streets.

*****

“Look. They're talking about the Noblesse's ex-sanctuary, aren't they?”

Lunark asked, her finger pointing a huge screen covering a facet of a building at the Gwanghwamun Square.

Frankenstein nodded after reading the headline, of the breaking news that the international environmental facilities and institutions have selected the Bermudan Treasure Chest as a special protection site, to perform and engage in extensive protection.

“Aren't you disappointed? You wanted to collect his power from that place.”

She was alluding to the proposal he made on the day she revealed the secret behind the resurrections following the nuclear missile incident.

The proposal on retrieving Raizel's power from his ex-sanctuary to replenish him was denied, due to the theory that taking away Raizel's power might lead to extinction of life at the place, since his power has already made itself a cradle, manna, and haven for the local marine creatures.

“Humans are now working together to save that place. So one day, things will settle down. Let's tell ourselves things will settle down.”

“At times like this, I feel perhaps humans are not hopelessly hopeless. Humans can be cannibalistic and destructive with their surroundings for the sake of their good, but on the other hand they know how to be altruistic and protective of the world. If I never knew you, I would have never known.”

Frankenstein gasped a laughter at her bashful comment.

“Now that's an honor. Speaking of which, I'd like to teach you more. For example, how human fare with their lives. How you can spend a daily life in the human world. What do you say?”

“Great. Please do. Teach me how humans... How a couple share an ordinary day.”

Lunark's words were confident, yet her face was blushing.

Frankenstein held her hand, his mouth arched in a gentle smile.

They knew they cannot make any promise on their future.

Just like how they did not expect the breaking news of the day.

They cannot tell what will be waiting for their discovery tomorrow. Or in an hour.

Still, they promised themselves and each other that they will devote themselves to this day to the best of their abilities.

They will hold their hands and be true to their love.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Frankenstein's and Lunark's hearts serenaded a duet of dazing flutter, as they walked into the crystal-clear sunlight illuminating their path to the ordinary life.

And the day could not be sunnier.

(Illustration by. RyO - you can find her DeviantArt page here)

I’m so sorry it took much longer for me to post this chapter. I was working on another series that I’m about to submit for a competition, and I had no idea it’s way past my usual posting time. I’m terribly sorry about the delay - what a way to wrap up the series. :’(

At last... My fanfic has reached its conclusion! I posted the first chapter of this fic on April of 2020, and it took me roughly a year and 4 months to finish it. And for the first time in years, I’m having a mixture of emotions cascading upon me as I write my final postscript, including but not limited to elation, bittersweetness, ruefulness, etc.

I made a lot of discoveries on what I lack as a writer throughout my journey with this fic. I had much more stories to include on my mind (most notably the relationship between Rael and Seira) but I had to delete them all from my outline for the sake of word count and constancy with the main topic of this fic. I might recollect them and write about them as a sequel to this fic, but right now I can’t think of any plot that I would find satisfying. And it would take a long time for me to land on a storyline that I would be confident in, enough for me to compose a fic with. And as the number of chapters grew, I ended up making mistakes regarding the details and plot. I remember how with chapter 68, I didn’t notice beforehand how I made several fatal mistakes that could compromise readers’ comprehension of the story, and I had to edit it for at least 3 times. Not to mention the story got kind of loose and lost its tempo over time. I happen to be working on a separate series (which has nothing to do with Noblesse) on a Korean website, and I’m having trouble with it due to the loose contents. This fic gave me an opportunity to look back on what I need to work on as a writer, and I will certainly do that.

On the other hand, this fic did not leave me fruitless. I think I did a pretty good job and could gain a lot of experience on making story-wise allusions and references throughout chapters, to weave separate scenes together and thus bind 70 chapters into a wholesome series. Most importantly, I’m satisfied with how I could make use of and investigate my personal interpretations and creations on what was left after the final chapter of the original webtoon (such as the reason why those that were engaged in the nuclear missile incident could make it back to life, the faint-but-surely-there romance between Rai and Lascrea, the last of the Union after its destruction, and most of all the relationship between Lunark and Frankenstein).

In all, I gained a lot of regrets while writing this fic, but above all I am happy with my creation since I managed to write about everything I want in the exact way I wanted.

My tremendous gratitude for those of you who have been staying with me throughout this fic. It was not perfect, and it came with a lot of words to read, but I thank each and every one of you readers out there for visiting my fic. Although I happen to be busy with an independent project of mine, one day I’d like to bring another Noblesse fic for you, short or not.

Once again, thank you so much for enjoying my fic so far. Thank you, and that is all! :)

#korean webcomic #korean webtoon #fanfic #noblesse #frankenstein #lunark #frankensteinxlunark #lunarkxfrankenstein #wolfsbane #Mr.Wolf #AnAngelicDay

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mylifeisactuallyamess · 3 years

Text

Serial Killer!Armitage Hux x Blood Spatter Analyst F Reader/DCI!Ben Solo x BSA!Fem Reader

A/N: THIS IS A DARKFIC. This is a only prelude for the whole fic which I am still working on. Exploring Hux’s potential darker side is something that’s been on my mind for a really long time and then I watched Hannibal and my serial killer enjoyment kicked up again 🤣 just the picture for this weeks Writer Wednesday prompted this little snippet. Also RC does enjoy her job probably as much as Dexter 🤣The first half is from Hux’s pov and the second is from RC’s. DO NOT READ if you are sensitive to anything remotely dubious. 18+ Minors DNI. @autumnleaves1991-blog @clydesducktape

Warnings: description of taking life, stalker Hux, dark thoughts, he’s a strangler so be warned. Mention of food, moving between jobs, description of blood. Set in London but I am using artistic licence in this fic so not 100% accurate with locations, but I have done my research into BSA and the job they do. (My google search is not something that the police should look at right now 🤣)

Word Count: 1541

Read the Prelude here on AO3.

These places were perfect, it was dark, the lighting wasn’t great and he could hug the shadows as he watched people go about their unsuspecting lives. It had been a few weeks since he’d felt the strain of his garrotte and his hands itched, his mind cried out for that relief he felt when the life left their body.

The heaviness of their form was always a comfort and he wondered often if his father felt the same way after he’d killed his wife. It played in Hux’s mind every time he took a life, he felt like he was in his fathers shoes. The only time he was good enough to step up to his fathers legacy. Killing was a habit now, he craved the rush it gave him that they couldn’t over power him or take anything from him, unlike everyone else in his life. He was taking the most precious thing from them and it gave him such a heady feeling.

He looked up when a few people arrived at the temporary diner, the soft light highlighted you as you stepped up to deliver your order and he was instantly captivated. The way you moved was enchanting, life seemed to blossom from you, alighting everything around you and he couldn’t look away. You looked up at the man you were with, your beautiful face breaking out into a smile and your laugh reached Hux’s ears making his fists clench in desperation. The garrotte was in his pocket ready and waiting to wrap around the column of your beautiful neck but when Hux finally paid attention to the man behind you he withdrew around the tree.

DCI Ben Solo…the copper who had suspicions about Hux but had no proof. Oh, Hux knew about the board of supposed facts the DCI had in his office, like a shrine to Hux’s misdeeds and he smirked into the darkness. Taking one right from under the nose of the DCI was so appealing, a game with high stakes and strict rules, a game Hux wanted to play.

He peered around the trunk of the tree, watching you with a renewed intensity, the desire burned through his blood like a fire that only one action could douse. His eyelids flickered as he imagined the way your throat would constrict, the way you’d fight, he could see you had spirit. You’d be a challenge. His gaze fixated on the column of your throat and he rested heavily against the tree, the longer he watched you the more he wanted….no. He needed you. He needed to feel your soft skin, he needed to hear you struggle, he needed to pull you close to his chest as he choked you. To smell your hair, to feel your warmth, to know that he was in that moment, the most powerful being in your life.

Your gaze swept over his hiding place and he moved, now was not the time. He needed to be patient, it would come down to a particular moment and only when that moment was upon him, would he know how perfect it was.

“What do you fancy? My treat.” You turned to Ben, his cinnamon eyes roaming over the menu over the top of your head because he stood so much taller than anyone else.

“I think you’re doing enough for me, this is my treat,” you exclaimed firmly.

“But I called you here…”

“So? This is on me.” He shrugged, a smile pulling on the corner of his mouth and you swatted his arm, a small laugh bursting forth as you tried not to notice the dimples that appeared in his cheeks. The soft light of the mobile diner gave them a sense of life which he snuffed out as he ran a hand over his stubble.

“Nah, come on. I’m starving,” he moaned and you rolled your eyes.

“Ok ok,” you peered at the menu asking for a basket of loaded fries and Ben ordered the same. You both sat down on the red stools which were much more comfortable than they looked. You turned your seat round, lifting your face up to the dark sky and letting a gentle breeze flow over you. The quiet trickle of conversation filled the air around you and people sat at the tables dotted around enjoying their food, some music played in the background and if you closed your eyes you could easily imagine you were across the pond sat in a real diner. The smell of the coffee, the sizzle of the fries, it all coagulated together into a comforting sensation in the middle of your chest and you let out a little sigh. Ben nudged your arm alerting you to food so you turned and grabbed the Tabasco bottle off the little sauce shelf.

“Tabasco. Really?” You smiled as you dribbled some over the melted cheese.

“Yeah, you don’t like spicy food?” You asked. He wrinkled his face in distaste and you couldn’t stop the giggles.

“Anyway,” he started clearly in an effort to change the subject. “How’s the lab? You think I could persuade you to stay here, permanently?” You shook your head, chewing on a chip and reaching for some napkins before answering.

“I’m a nomad. I like moving around…”

“But you have no home. Doesn’t it get you know, lonely?” You shrugged. You’d never really thought about it, you went where the blood was flowing the most, following the trail of destruction across the country. You didn’t tell many people but you enjoyed the thrill, when you stepped into a new blood soaked crime scene it gave you a sense of awe. None of the patterns were ever the same and it fascinated you how a simple flick of the wrist could produce different results for different killers. Your eyes rose to meet Ben’s and you felt like you wanted to tell him, I wanted to explain the way your job made you feel. As a fellow colleague he might understand but you always kept this part of you locked away. There was a fine line between enjoying your job and enjoying your job.

“No, not lonely, just means I can do what I like or work as long as I like.” Ben licked his fingers, reaching for a napkin he nodded.

“Yeah I get that. My parents are constantly on at me to find someone but I refuse to date a fellow copper and aside from the victims' families I don’t meet anyone else.”

“Oh, that’s not much of a dating pool,” you mumbled and he smirked at your words.

“No, no dating pool. If my mother had her way I’d be all “I’m really sorry your husband died, looking to remarry because my mother wants grandkids!” Yeah, no thanks.” You giggled wiping your greasy hands on another napkin.

“She sounds like she just wants the best for you.”

“The best for me isn’t meeting someone on the worst day of their lives,” he rumbled, suddenly withdrawing into himself and you turned to see him looking down at his food with a vacant expression.

“There’ll be someone. I have to believe there is someone for everyone, otherwise what’s the point of all this.”

“Yeah.” You didn’t like the dip in mood and you looked around trying to see something to distract you both. Some movement caught your eye, over by a tree just outside the pool of light and you squinted, but instantly dismissed it when you saw the railings along the edge of a pond beyond the tree.

“Come on,” you tugged on his arm offering no explanation and dumping your empty basket into the bin provided. You waved and thanked the staff getting a chorus of farewells back and sauntered over to the path.

“Where are we going?” He asked, finally catching up with you. You peered into the darkness, hoping your eyes were playing tricks on you because you swore there had been someone standing next to this tree, but there was no one here.

“I saw a pond, I wanted to see the ducks,” you said without thinking.

“You do know it’s around ten thirty at night the ducks will be sleeping. Like we should be,” he muttered.

“It was your idea to get dinner.” He huffed in resignation, stuffing his hands in his pockets and picking up his pace to follow you to the edge of the lake. You peered into the darkness, something didn’t feel right and your skin prickled. Ben instantly noticed and followed your line of sight.

“What is it?” His tone hushed as though not wanting to disturb you.

“You know, I think I should head back now.” The sense you were being watched was increasing, making your stomach flip uncomfortably with nerves.

“Ok, I’ll walk you back. I left my car at the station anyway. Your hotel is on the way.” You flinched slightly when he pressed his hand against the top of your back steering you back down the path. Finally you turned, telling yourself you were being stupid you were safe here and yet the sense of danger was there, nibbling at your subconscious telling you no matter where you went, you were never completely safe.

#serial killer!hux #DCI!Ben Solo #serial killer au #writer wednesday #an actual darkfic #darkfic #blood spatter analyst! reader #female reader

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years

Note

39. "If he's the devil, I finally understand the appeal of hell." 79. "One more word and I'll stitch those lips of yours shut." I'm coming back with more requests 🤣

39. "If he's the devil, I finally understand the appeal of hell."

79. "One more word and I'll stitch those lips of yours shut."

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A/N - Since you didn’t specify who it is for, I’m choosing my current obsession aka Nicholas Scratch :)

Pairing: Nick x nephillim!reader

Summary: Deciding to be bold and visit hell, Y/N finds someone is need of help.

Warnings: ANGST

Word count: 1800+

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All witches go to hell eventually, it’s the price of walking down the path of night. A necessary evil for a very long life filled with beauty and power - a combination very few could ever deny.

Y/N walked a different path, one very few were given directions to. Path of light was guaranteed only for nephillms and being the daughter of an archangel, Michael, Y/N found herself more powerful, pure and possibly the most ambitious than any witch that walked the earth.

While witches served the dark lord, Y/N sought to destroy him and all he hold dear. Hell could be her domain. She certainly wanted to try.

A portal to hell was easy to find, entering it ever easier considering a fallen archangel ruled it, but she felt weakened. Her powers were far from what they usually are and she couldn’t help but wonder if the danger she’ll face because of it might be worth a retreat...at least for a while.

“A peak won’t hurt, will it?” She whispers under her breath, convincing herself to at least see the throne of lies made by the king of hell. A part of her needed to see Lucifer for herself, to understand what she’s fighting against.

Mouth hanging open, she found her heart picking up speed as she noted the empty throne, glorious as she imagined it to be.

“Wow.” She breathes out, stepping out from her hiding spot without a second thought. Her steps are determined, the look of awe on her face unmatched by anything he had seen and while she was none the wiser, he made himself seen.

“See something you like?” The low drawl of his voice tugs at her heartstrings and she feels it drop. Is it fear? Perhaps lust? It was hard to tell as she looked at the one speaking.

She hated her thoughts, but they were all coherent and in agreement: ‘If he's the devil, I finally understand the appeal of hell.’

He’s shirtless, his muscular body showing off every ab, every inch of his perfect skin. His dark hair frames his chiseled face perfectly, a little unkempt but the appeal is only stronger with the messy curls forming on top of his head. His forehead is sweaty, his eyes as dark as she suspected his soul is and just as tormented.

There’s something in his tortured gaze, the black pools framed with long eyelashes that call out for the uncorrupted to make certain it is stained after a single touch of his sinfully big hands. The smirk is what truly brings her to her knees and while she knew better, Y/N nods.

“Can’t lie.” She folds her arms and smirks confidently. “The throne is up to my taste.”

“Oh? I was certain you’d compliment the body suit I’m wearing.” Sticking his tongue out, he steps closer and Y/N steps back accordingly, holding in a breath that would escape along a scream. A forked tongue? A meat suit?

Lucifer is possessing someone and for once, the throne wasn’t on her mind.

“Who are you possessing?” She tried to act innocent, buy some time to form a plan. Could she really fight the devil for dominance in the name of a man she had first seen just a minute ago?

She wasn’t really sure.

“A warlock who sighed his soul over to me.” Raising an eyebrow, he folds his hands in front of him, just before the skimpy underwear he’s got on.

“He sacrificed his life to save the world, if you can believe it.” Lucifer steps closer once again and she stands her ground, clenching her jaw to stop it from quivering.

“You sound almost”, she pauses to find the right words, cursing her anxiety for making it hard to converse, “impressed.” She raises an eyebrow too, daring him to speak more.

“Nicholas Scratch showed a great deal of loyalty and courage...too bad it wasn’t shown for me.” Growling the last bit, Lucifer’s face darkens and Y/N’s heart sinks further.

Nicholas...The name suited him, but it made it harder for her. She couldn’t leave him behind. Not now.

“So why not release him?” Baiting him, Y/N remains impassive on the outside while a hurricane ravages her insides. “He’s of no use to you now.” She steps closer, trying to conjure all of her power. If she can leave a mark of an angel upon him, the devil would have to leave his body and she’d have just enough time to teleport back to earth where Lucifer can’t follow as easily.

“Why would I do that? Torturing him every second of every day is so fun!” Chuckling as Y/N’s left eye twitched ever so slightly, Lucifer’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re in his body. It’s his territory. What if he wins and you’re but a forgotten goat inside a closed off hell?” Losing her temper wasn’t wise, but Y/N had no restrain. Longer she remained in hell, weaker she felt and while she knew it definitely isn’t her domain, she needed to save the warlock who didn’t belong there either. Not for a long while, at least.

However, her words irked the dark lord, causing his charming facade to fade as well. "One more word and I'll stitch those lips of yours shut."

Holding her breath, Y/N knew it was a matter of time before she lost her advantage and Lucifer realized her identity. So, she mustered all her energy, every last bit of her essence channeled into her right hand and when she fixed her gaze on him, she didn’t fail.

Smiling, almost viciously, Y/N jumped on Nicholas’ body, her right hand landing on his left shoulder and the scream erupting from him echoed in every corner of hell.

She felt the body shaking, held onto him with all she had while he all but convulsed and when she heard him coughing, she looked in time to see a black matter leave his weakened form.

Mumbling a spell, a flash of bright light set hell into a frenzy, temporarily blinding any demon in its vicinity.

Opening her eyes, she found herself back in her home, Nicholas’ body in her arms. As he collapsed, taking her down with him, Y/N felt her heart crack with worry.

What if it killed him? Demons tend to kill their host, so what if Lucifer killed him too?

Her lips tremble as her fingers press above his carotid, awaiting anything to take the weight off her shoulders. Blood thumping against her fingers drew a relaxed sigh, one that made her giggle with relief.

“Thank God.” She exclaimed, ignoring tears pricking at her eyes. Nicholas is safe and she had to make sure he stayed safe.

Spelling him onto the bed, she tended to his fragile body and most importantly, his mind. Reaching him wasn’t possible as his thoughts were erratic, but she did find one important clue - where she needs to bring him back...to who she needs to bring him back to.

Sitting back in her chair, Y/N couldn’t help but shed a tear.

Nicholas felt familiar, somehow drew her to him and while she could pretend she didn’t care for him, her heart already had a place for him. It’s angel’s nature to love fiercely, to recognize kindred spirits and she never met anyone more suitable for her.

“Pity.” She smiles though the pain, an affliction that comes with letting go of someone she knew would have changed her life for the better. He could have been her one - someone to love truly, madly, deeply, but she saw her - Spellman, as he called her. His heart wasn’t free and unattached and he would never love an angel.

He’s a warlock, walking the path of night and destruction and she will always be Michael’s daughter, meant to be a beacon of light and hope. Darkness and light don’t mix, she knew that. He’d snuff out her light if she allowed herself another moment of weakness...of love.

“You won’t remember this.” Her frown deepens and she sighs heavily, leaning over him with lips pressed together. “You will never know what we could have been, or what I did for you.” Leaning in, she allows her lips to tremble before pressing them against his forehead with a tenderness she didn’t know she possessed.

“It’s too late for me. I will always wonder how you are or if you’re safe, but you’ll never be damned with the thought of me.” A sad smile appears on her lips as she feels the tears form once more.

“Why is it so hard to let go of what isn’t even mine?” Resting her forehead against his, the tip of her nose brushing just past his, her grief of what must be done dissipating with determination to do right by him.

“I hope you find happiness.”

And in a blink, Nicholas was back, laying next to unsuspecting Sabrina.

Opening his eyes, Nick sat up with a gasp, looking around with a wild look in his dark eyes. “Where?” He breathes out, convinced someone else was beside him and it was definitely not Sabrina.

“Hold on, Nick. I’ll get help!” Sabrina jumps to her feet, but Nick is quicker.

“Where is she?!” He can’t remember much, but he remembers a warmth, a sense of safety he never felt before.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about. Nick, calm down!” Sabrina stepped closer, wanting to hold him - to simply take his pain away and he allows her the intimacy of a hug. It just doesn’t feel right. Not as it felt...he just can’t remember when or with who. All he knows is that someone had helped him out of the mess he made and he was safe.

Perhaps it wasn’t real and Lucifer made him hallucinate a woman made of light, but he could have sworn he felt her lips on his skin. He could have sworn he heard her soothing voice guide him through the dark.

“What the?” Sabrina frowns, pushing him away just to stand and look at his shoulder, frowning with concern. “There’s a...hand print on your shoulder!” She exclaims, moving out of the way so he’d see it in the reflection and despite the pain he feels inside, Nicholas smiled as tears formed in his eyes.

“She was real.” And he had a clue how to find her.

#nicholas scratch #nicholas scratch x reader #nicholas scratch angst #nick scratch #nick scratch x reader

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allegra-writes · 4 years

Text

"Fine line" part I

Peter Parker x SHIELD Agent! Reader x Harry Osborn

Teen and Up

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Part of the "Fine Line" series. Welcome to the endgame.

SERIES MASTERLIST | MY MASTERLIST

He had never seen you fight before. It was stupid of him, and potentially dangerous, to stop and think about something like that in the middle of a freaking battle, but he just couldn't help it. You were graceful, deadly. You and Kate Bishop moving together like a well oiled machine. Strike team Delta, Fury's pride. A blur of perfectly shot arrows and high kicks.

But not even you were enough to stop the giant monstrosity in its path of destruction, not even him was. And it had hostages now.

"Six!"

"I know K, I'm seeing it!"

"I'm on it guys!" Peter called back as he swung by you like a red and blue meteor, following the greenish abomination currently climbing up the side of a skyscraper, carrying a sports car on his free hand as effortlessly as if it was a toy.

"One little question though" He switched to coms, "What the hell is that thing??"

"That thing" You explained, "is Norman Osborn…"

Peter's hand slipped, sending him flying face first into the building wall,

"Say what?!"

"We'll fill you up later, Spidey" Kate quipped, "For now, would you mind giving us a hand before King-kong over there kills anyone? I don't trust his butter fingers not to drop that Audi"

"Yes, ma'am" You could hear Peter's smile in his voice, "S.H.I.E.L.D girls are so bossy"

"Well, we are your superiors..." You noted, finally arriving at the entrance of the building when he was already halfway to the top.

"Ugh, I hate it when you pull rank on me" He groaned, swerving to dodge the shards of broken glass raining upon him.

You snorted,

"No you don't"

"No, I don't" He admitted, "Kinda turns me on"

"Ew! Guys, I can hear you" Kate catched up to you, shooting an arrow hooked to a line around her belt. Peter wasn't surprised to see it hit its mark flawlessly on a ledge above his head, "Hi, hot stuff, need a ride?"

You rolled your eyes, but wrapped your arms around her shoulders nonetheless, holding on tight.

"Hey!" Peter protested, mid swing, "No flirting with my girl!"

"I saw her first!" Kate released the latch, and soon you both were ascending at breakneck speed, easily surpassing Peter, "Race you to the top, Spidey!"

His laughter resonated through the coms, as he sped up to follow you, guns blazing into the battle.

…

There was no laughter anymore. The friendly banter and quick comebacks had died long ago, the second you had realized it was a trap. The goblin creature was far more intelligent than you were led to believe, having set the ploy from the very beginning, his seemingly driftless rampage through the city, not so random after all.

And far more psychotic, as you had learnt when he tore open the car in his hands to reveal the terrified blond man inside.

"HARRY!"

Peter's horrified scream matched your own.

"Well well well, it seems you awake quite the loyalty" a massive hand closed around Harry's torso, his indigo orbs finding yours across the rooftop "for such a pathetic little worm"

"Let him go, Goblin" Kate's tone was placating, almost gentle, "you don't know what you're doing…"

The creature laughed,

"That's what you think? What your imbecilic little investigation concluded?" Kate and you exchanged a look. Of course. Your investigation about the Green Goblin and other Oscorp shady experiments relied heavily on Norman Osborn personal files. The thought of the passionate scientist, who valued his work more than his own son, lying in his own research had never even crossed your minds. He had played you like a fiddle, misled you every step of the way, and you had bought right into it.

"I worked with S.H.I.E.L.D longer than you had been alive, and Fury thinks he can sic you after me? Two little girls playing spy and my own creation??" Harry looked about ready to pass out as the Goblin waved him around, gesticulating with his hands as he spoke.

Through the corner of his eye, Peter caught a glimpse of Kate inching closer to the beast, and was only half interested when he inquired,

"What do you mean your creation?"

"Everything special about you," The Goblin's deformed visage twisted in what Peter assumed was supposed to be a smirk, "came from one of my labs!"

"That might be true, you might have involuntarily given me my powers, but you didn't make me Spider-man" Peter countered, "Mister Stark gave me the suit, and showed me what it meant to be a hero, and I loved him and admire him more than you will ever be able to understand, but he didn't make me Spider-man either.

I choose to be Spider-man, every day. I created myself, cause it isn't who we were made to be that makes us who we are. Our choices make us who we are! You might have the powers and appearance of a monster, but you don't have to be one!"

"If you really think that, you are even more stupid than I thought, Peter Parker"

"Pe-peter?" Harry gasped through the creatures crushing grasp around his torso. Peter hesitated for a second, before taking his mask off.

"Yeah, it's me, buddy" He admitted, watching his friend's eyes go wide, "It's going to be ok, Haz. We'll get you out of this, I promise…"

Famous last words. Peter should have known better by then than to jinx things like that. Because not two minutes later, he was seeing Kate's little ambush fail, the creature's tail whipping around with enough force to send her flying against a wall and knock her out, Peter's own kick just a little too slow to stop the Goblin from grabbing you in his free hand.

"Wings? It has fucking wings??" Peter cursed under his breath, scrambling to follow the monster as he flapped his enormous, membranous wings, soaring across the city. But the creature had no intention of going too far.

"You say our choices make us who we are, very well" The Goblin challenged him, hovering above 700 feet of empty air, and Peter's heart stopped. "Let's see what yours are. What is it going to be, your friend… or your lover?"

"Don't do it, Goblin!" He yelled, standing on a ledge, ready to pounce, when he saw it. Or rather, saw her, purple hair blowing in the wind, standing on the air, a little lower and further behind from the Goblin, one palm pointed down, creating some sort of sonic wave that kept her up. She signaled a series of orders with her free hand, and Peter nodded almost imperceptibly, but enough for you to realize something was happening. You twisted in the Goblins grip to see what was going on at your back. Oh, fuck.

"Make your choice, Peter. Now!"

Norman Osborn let go of you and Harry at the same time, leaving you to watch your boyfriend dive for your ex. But you weren't falling, you were floating, cushioned by a column of vibrating air.

"Don't worry, rookie," You heard an annoyingly familiar voice say, "big sis is here…"

Great. You were never going to live this down, now.

Meanwhile, Peter had problems of his own, the momentum the Goblin had thrown his own son away making it difficult for him to catch Harry on time.

And even after he had the other man safe in his arms, he wouldn't stop squirming, fighting in his hold.

"Noooo! Go after her! Save her!!"

Peter managed to land the both of them in a terrace,

"She's ok! She's fine, see? She's got this! She's got this…" Peter finally released Harry, pointing up to the place where you still were hovering in the air with that other agent.

"She… she's… flying?"

"I think that is actually the other one's making…" Peter shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. Harry started pacing back and forth, obviously overwhelmed, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.

"And you're Spider-man…" he turned to Peter, who nodded. "And that thing… what the fuck was that thing?"

Peter hesitated,

"Apparently, a crazy scientist" he finally decided on a half truth.

"A crazy… Mate, what even is your life?"

"Honestly? I've been asking myself that same question for years…"

Harry barked out a watery, hysterical laugh. He wanted to punch the shorter guy, he wanted to throw himself at his feet and thank him for saving his life. To apologize for all the drunken midnight calls, and also stab him in his boyishly handsome face for being so fucking noble and heroic and brave and impossibly perfect and for stealing his girl.

He clutched as his chest, the burn almost making him double over in pain, and he realized he was hyperventilating.

"Harry, Harry, look at me. Look at me! Do you feel my chest? Can you feel my chest under your hand?"

Harry noticed then that Peter was pressing his open palm, splayed against the spider logo on his own chest. He nodded his affirmation.

"Good, feel how it moves? Breath with me" Peter ordered, "inhale…"

Harry breathed in, in time with his friend's expanding chest.

"Now exhale"

Harry let go of his breath.

"That's right, you're doing so great" Peter's praise warmed up something inside his gut. "Inhale…" and Harry did, catching a faint whiff of your perfume. Peter smelled like you, the realization making him notice just how close to each other they were, only inches apart. And he wondered idly if that was the view you were used to, the one you favored over everything else: warm brown eyes, staring into your soul, right before leaning in. He wondered if you appreciated those hard, muscular shoulders under your hands, before pulling him close. He wondered if Peter's lips still tasted like you.

And before he knew it, Peter found himself with Harry's mouth crashing on his.

He knew he should stop it, step away, but he was rooted to the spot, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught of sensations. It was different from kissing a girl. Hard planes where he was used to soft curves. The tickle of scruff, and slightly chapped lips where he was used to your strawberry sweet lipstick. But as Harry's tongue licked his bottom lip, begging for entrance, Peter couldn't help but open up to him, to surrender to him, as his tongue conquered every inch of Peter's mouth, a greddy, hungry victor.

"I hate you so much" Harry breathed against Peter's mouth, even as his big hands came to frame the brunet's face, the metal of his finger rings cool against Peter's cheeks

"Doesn't feel like hate…" He quipped, before scraping his teeth against Harry's lips, tearing a moan out of him.

"No, it doesn't" the taller boy admitted, pushing one thigh between Peter's, gasping as he felt one of the hero's hands coming to rest against his lower back, pressing him closer.

"You taste like cigarettes" Peter marveled, for some reason finding the bittersweet taste delicious.

"And you taste like her" Harry replied, diving in again.

Peter froze. Her. You. His girlfriend.

"Harry… Harry stop" Peter muttered, between nibbles "we need to stop. This is wrong"

"Feels right" The heir protested, teeth latching onto Peter's lower lip to stop him from pulling away. Peter groaned, but managed to break the kiss anyway.

"It's not. We can't do this to her."

Harry sighed, resting his forehead against Peter's, still reluctant to let go completely,

"I know…" he admitted.

They stood like that for a few moments, willing breathings to calm, and hearts to slow down.

"You should go" Harry spoke finally, taking a step back, Peter immediately missing the warmth of his body in his arms. He wanted to say something, anything, to chase away the heartbreak, the loneliness in those pale blue eyes, but he couldn't. The knot in his own throat would not allow it.

So he just stepped away, slipping his mask on, and jumped. He caught a glimpse of Harry's teary, red face, sticking out from the balcony to watch him go, before shooting off a web and swinging away, back to the skyscraper where Kate had fallen. Because if he knew you at all, that was exactly where you were going to be, taking care of your best friend.

…

"...I'm telling you, I had everything under control!"

"Is that why you were hanging 700 feet in the air?" The purple haired girl argued, crossing her arms over her chest, "Admit it, rookie, you're lucky I arrived just in time to save your ass. Again."

You were fuming, face flushed and eyes bright, and Peter found himself struck yet again by how gorgeous you were. A pang of guilt stabbed his stomach.

"I didn't ask you too" You replied, petulantly, "and stop calling me 'rookie', I'm a level 9 agent."

"... I'm still higher than you"

"For one level!" You cried in frustration, "One single fucking level!"

"Would you two shut up?" Kate stumbled up, and Peter broke free from his haze to hurry and wrap a stabilizing arm around her shoulders, "You're giving me a headache"

"Yeah, that would be the concussion," purple quipped, "don't worry, Simmons should be here any minute to take a look at that"

"Yay, finally a sane person to talk to" Kate deadpanned. Purple ignored her.

"And you must be the boyfriend…" She singsonged, nudging you with her shoulder, "He's cute under the mask, how did you managed to get him to go out with you?"

"Hey!" Peter and you exclaimed indignantly, in unison.

"I'm kidding, jeez!" She raised her hands in surrender. "Come on, won't you introduce us?"

You rolled your eyes, but complied anyway,

"Daisy, this is Peter Parker. Peter, this is Daisy Johnson, weirdo fancies herself my sister"

"Ooh, 'fancies'! You've spent way too much time with that brit boy, didn't you?"

"Daisy, I swear to god I will-"

"You need to tell her" Kate whispered, taking advantage of your distraction.

"Wh-what?"

She scoffed, Kate had never had much patience for anyone's bullshit.

"About what just happened with Harry. She will understand, Peter, I promise. But only if she hears it from you"

"H-how do you know?"

"I see better from afar" The archer smirked, before returning her attention to you and, apparently, your sister.

"Are they always like that?" Peter whispered, a little alarmed. Kate snorted,

"Just wait till you meet the rest of her old team…"

"Yeah, what do you say, boyfriend?" Daisy smirked, mischievous glimmer in her eyes so much like yours, "Ready to meet the family?"

Peter gulped, he really wasn't.

To be continued...

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #peter parker fanfic #tom holland fanfic #harry osborn x peter parker #harry osborn imagine #harry osborn #harrison osterfeild x reader #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x tom holland #fine line series

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conaionaru · 4 years

Text

Honor and Blood (Ivar the Boneless)

Anyone can betray anyone

Synopsis: While Ivar is away, Vanya does everything to keep her mind off his possible death, meanwhile Aslaug faces an enemy from the past.

Warnings: fluff? (Aslaug + Vanya), betrayal, character death, angst, slight anti-Lagertha (she deserved it), talk or revenge

Tags: @shannygoatgruff @queenbeeta @lol-haha-joke @xbellaxcarolinax @youbloodymadgenius @chynagirl13 @didiintheblog @astridbaby @heavenly1927 @thereareendlessopportunities

I don’t own the gifs. Also, thank you for your support. I really appreciate it. If you want to be tagged please write me<3

It was the middle of the night as they sat in a circle; some of the women were familiar, others weren't, but they all shared the same goal. They all prayed for their families to return from raiding alive and well. No matter if they went to the Mediterranean with Bjorn and Hvitserk or to England with Ragnar and Ivar, the women of the family prayed to the gods.

Hoenir sacrificed a goat and smeared the blood over their faces as they prayed to Thor for strength. Ever since the Ragnarssons left, Aslaug has been distant, and Vanya feared the Queen felt Ivar die.

And so distracted herself from these thoughts by spending time with the common folk. Prayer circles, visits to the orphanage, or just strolls through the marker, Vanya was always surrounded by people. But inside, she felt hollow just like the rest of them, Aros being her only source of joy.

Ubbe joked that the babe would be able to walk by the time Ivar came back, as he's very eager to stand. Of course, he can't do it independently, but he has no problem holding himself up if you hold him. And Vanya was very proud of that.

Right now, the Ivarsson is with his grandmother, who asked to look after him for a little bit. The request was sudden, but Vanya was very happy that the Queen was feeling a bit better.

"Are you alright, Princess Vanya?" questioned an old woman, she had gray hair and looked worn down, but she came to every prayer circle. Her two grandsons left with Bjorn, and her son joined Ragnar.

"Of course, a little bit dizzy from the sigh of blood. But I am alright." The woman didn't believe her at all and put her withered hand on top of Vanya's.

"The gods aren't always just, but they listen to the prayers and act on them if they are pleased. You have pleased the gods since the ships left; you should rest a little bit too. Or you will wear yourself thin."

Vanya chuckled and shook her head at the answer. "I will be fine. The gods will hear our prayer and help us. Everything will be alright."

Not so far away from Vanya's place of blissful denial, Lagertha was hatching plans. "I am taking Kattegat back. Aslaug isn't fit to be Queen."

"What about Ragnar's sons?" Astrid asked her lover, curious about what will become of the boys.

"Born of a witch." The shieldmaiden replied simply, stroking her own like a conversation about the weather and not about usurping a Queen.

"They are still his sons."

Lagertha looked at Astrid with solemn eyes and stood up from her seat. "Bjorn, Hvitserk, and Ivar are all gone."

"But Ubbe and Sigurd remain. Are you going to kill them too?"

Luckily for them, Torvi had the perfect solution in the form of Margrethe. But one thing remained unclear to Astrid. "What of Vanya? What will happen to her?"

"We can't hurt her. She is the sole heir to a kingdom in England. If she dies as well, they will sail to our shores and demand vengeance." Lagertha's words held a tone of anger in them. They tried to pull the Princess to their side on the feast, but her mind was too warped by Aslaug's witchy ways. Just like Ragnar's had been.

"She will remain where she is, we just have to make sure she won't interfere, and no harm comes to her or Aros," Torvi suggested looking at her mother in law for approval. When Lagertha asked for an explanation, the younger blonde was happy to provide. "For leverage against Ivar."

Margrethe nodded at this and looked at Lagertha unsurely. "When Vanya went missing, he lost his mind. If she and the babe are safe, he won't be so angry. She calms him sometimes."

"Then it's decided. Now, enough questions. I have to talk to Torvi."

Vanya entered the Queen's chambers to retrieve Aros right after the prayer circle. When she saw Aslaug sitting on her bed, holding her grandson close with sad eyes, she didn't know what to say. "I always wanted a daughter. I am thankful for all of my sons, and love them very much. But sometimes I wondered what it would be like to have a daughter."

Vanya walked closer to the bed, sitting down next to Aslaug to watch Aros sleep. He looked just like Ivar when he slept, serene and innocent with a little frown and scrunched up nose. At least he slept easier than before.

"When the marriage offer came in, and it said they choose Ivar, I was worried. I wanted him to find somebody worthy of him, who would love him just as much as I do. And then this little scared Christian came in, and I was so angry that he would have to marry her. But she showed her true colors little by little. Suddenly there wasn't a scared girl who would bring his boredom and misery. The Princess didn't judge him and even grew to love him over time."

Vanya smiled at the Queen's kind words; no matter how much it hurt to remember Ivar and his possible fate, it warmed her heart to hear about him nonetheless. "I gained a daughter thanks to a monster from another place far from here. A daughter I grew to love even more when she gave me a grandson. Even if I lost a son, I gained two more people to care for. And I am very thankful for that."

She looked up to show her tearstained face and laid her palm against Vanya's equally teary face. "I want you to know that you are a part of this family, blood or not. You are my daughter, and Aros is my grandson. And nothing can or ever will change that."

"Why are you saying all this?"

Aslaug smiled and hugged her close, hiding her face in Vanya's neck. If it weren't for the closeness, she wouldn't be able to have heard the Queen's next words. "I thought it needed to be said. We never know when we might draw our last breath. Ubbe and Sigurd went on a visit, and you are the only family that remains here. We should stick together."

Vanya nodded and hugged the woman tighter. "Of course. Do you want me to stay the night?"

"I would love that."

Hoenir walked the path around the village with a horn of ale in one hand, his other resting on his new sword. His morning walk towards Ivar's and Vanya's hut was always pleasant. Usually, he took a walk around town first, but today something felt off. So he chose to go straight to their home.

The atmosphere around him made Hoenir uneasy and on edge. He felt like prey in the lion's den, just waiting to be swallowed by the bigger animal lurking around the corner. His visions have been horrifying for some time now, and he couldn't make sense of them.

Yesterday he came with his worries to Aslaug waiting for an explanation, but the Völva told him not to worry. The Seer wasn't of any help either, and so he was left to solve it on his own.

The visions of blood and carnage weren't anything new to him. Destruction was where he was, or better said, he followed it. The Gods sent him where blood was shed, and he did what they asked. In some places, he helped the sick; in others, he slaughtered enemies. Here, he protected a Princess.

Not his most admirable work, but the easiest so far. Looking after Vanya was a challenge, and unfortunately, he was more used to a routine. The ginger preferred to vary her tasks between charity, sewing, or visiting Helga and Floki. She liked to do things spontaneously, and he had to follow. So he implemented routines where he could, morning walks at dawn, a tavern in the evening, training before bed.

But these visions were foreign to him; never before did he dream of owls on thrones or burning ships. He tried every approach to deciphering the pieces he had, but the meaning was still unclear.

He entered Vanya's hut without knocking; without Ivar home, the chances of his seeing something he wouldn't want to see are slim. But the house was empty, and the fireplace was cold. "Fuck."

He runs out of the hut, making his way to the Great Hall, but the snapping of a twig startles him. "Who’s there? I don't have time for games, so show yourself."

Eight women with shields and swords walked out from behind the huts, glaring at him as if he offended them. The shields were painted with the colors of Lagertha's Earldom. "I would say I am shocked, but that would be a lie."

The women charged at him as he drew both of his swords, fighting them off. He cut through two easily, but an arrow flew from somewhere, hitting him in the shoulder. The remaining six women used the opportunity to disarm him, another well-aimed arrow to his knee, putting him to his knees.

Hoenir looked up to the rooftop from where the arrow came from to see a blonde woman standing there, notching another arrow. "Torvi." A shield hit him over the head right after he felt a pain in his tight and a hit to his jaw. And then everything went black, he collapsed into the mud.

Aros whined in Vanya's arms as Aslaug got dressed for her meeting with the Usurper Lagertha. The woman invaded Kattegat to become Queen, and Vanya would rather they escape than face the shieldmaiden that could kill Aslaug in the blink of an eye.

But Aslaug was determined to face her husband's first wife; she could see it in her stance and eyes. This made Vanya wonder if yesterday's sentiment was because of today's situation. Aslaug turned to Vanya with the sword of Kings in her hands and walked towards the shaken ginger.

She pulled Vanya to her, a hand on the back of her head, and leaned closer to her ear. "Be brave, Vanya. If you let them see fear, you let them win. Be invincible." With that, Aslaug pulled away and kissed her forehead, leaving the Great Hall surrounded by warriors with Vanya and Aros in the rear. Hoenir was gods know where, which made her worry for his safety.

Maybe he was fighting outside, and they will arrive to see Lagertha's corpse in the middle of the street. With unsure steps, Vanya walked behind the confident Queen, praying for everything to end soon. They stayed behind as Aslaug walked through the cheering crowd to the blond shieldmaiden.

The sight behind Lagertha made Vanya's breath hitch. Some shieldmaiden's had Hoenir captured, his face bloody and body impaled by three arrows.He was breathing heavily, kneeling in the dirt with a pool of blood under him. Tears gathered in her eyes when she saw him; he looked half dead.

They pulled the hood of his head to show Aslaug what happened to one of her best fighters. But to their surprise, Aslaug stood her ground, looking at the seasoned shieldmaiden before her.

"How strange Lagertha, that you would play the usurper. One woman against another. It doesn't quite fit with your reputation."

"I was never the usurper. Always the usurped." She put her sword away, watching the other Queen with determined eyes. "You took my husband, my world, and my happiness. The fact that you are a woman is neither here nor there."

"I didn't take your husband. He chose to be with me."

"He didn't choose. You're a witch. You bewitched him." Even from afar, Lagertha's serious face and tone made Vanya take a double-take. What's more believable, that the Völva used magic to make Ragnar sleep with her, or that he cheated because he met a pretty girl far away from his wife? Honestly, Ragnar didn't strike Vanya as a man who would fall for magic. The pretty girl was more believable.

Even Aslaug couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of the claim. "If that's what you want to believe, it's up to you. I don't disagree women can have power over men. But it's not always magical, is it, Lagertha? In any case," Aslaug looked around the crowd and raised her voice so they could all hear her next words. "Ragnar is dead."

The crowd gasped and talked among themselves in a mix of confusion, shock, and disbelief. "You don't know that." Lagertha accused Aslaug, not wanting to face the possibility he was actually gone.

"I dreamed it. I warned him about his journey. In my dream, his boats were sunk in a storm. Ragnar died." The Queens face saddened, and Aros whined in Vanya's arms. "So did my son, Ivar."

"But you don't know that." The desperation on Lagertha's side was obvious. Aslaug averted her gaze as if she was thinking before looking back up at her with a tilted head.

"No. I don't know that for sure. It was just a dream." The people whispered while Lagertha glared at the woman who taunted her in a dire situation. Hoenir looked towards the direction where the crying of a baby came from to see Vanya. He opened his mouth to call out to her, but Torvi dug her nails into his shoulder wound, silencing him.

Lagertha's eyes were tearful, and her voice honest as she steered back to the topic at hand. "And I have dreamed of taking back my home. I have dreamed it for a long time. But if I have to fight for it, then I will."

Aslaug smirked in amusement. "Don't worry. I could never fight you, Lagertha. I am not my mother, nor yet my father. I would never win." She threw the sword of Kings to the ground, raising up the murmurs once again. "But still, I have fulfilled my destiny. The gods foretold Ragnar would have many sons. And I have given him those sons. I am as much a part of his saga, Lagertha, as you are. But now I renounce everything."

The crowd kept getting louder as Aslaug continued her jabs at the usurper, finding the whole ordeal amusing in a sense. After all, when Ivar was born, they seemed to have made up, only for Lagertha to change her mind seventeen years later.

"All I ask is safe passage. All I ask is that you let me, my daughter Vanya and my grandson leave here in peace, to go wherever the gods decide. And you shall have back your hearth and home..." Aaslaug preened at the shocked shieldmaiden. "With my blessing. And my sons, when they hear how it was done, will be grateful for the manner of it... And not seek revenge."

Lagertha nodded at the reminder of Aslaug's three living sons. "I understand." She moved out of Aslaug's way, Vanya running up behind her so they could leave together. Aslaug motioned for the ginger to walk in front of her, thanking the new Queen of Kattegat.

The two women and babe walked forward bravely; heads held high. A swissing sound and Aslsaug stopping made Vanya halt as well. She turned around to see Aslaug collapse to her knees with a smile on her face, Lagertha standing behind her with a bow in her hand.

"NO!" Vanya run towards her mother in law, catching her in her arms, Aros crying hysterically in his sling. She pulled the Queen tighter to her, laying her head against her shoulder as she tried to put pressure on the wound in her back. "No, no, no. You can't die, you can't die."

But she could feel the lack of heartbeat and the sticky blood on her hand, the dead weight of her mother figure a painful truth. "No." Vanya sobbed into her shoulder, raising her eyes to meet Lagetha's, the satisfaction in the blue eyes the last nail in her coffin.

She watched the blonde with disgust and hate in her eyes, wishing she would burst into flames on the spot, giving her the most painful death imaginable. "You..." She spat the words out, tears streaming down her face, failing to hold up the corpse any longer.

Carefully she laid her down on the ground, guards running up to her to haul her away from the body. Vanya struggled against them, screaming her throat raw, just like her son against her chest. But it was no use as they dragged her away, Aslaug laying on the cold ground, alone.

Vanya did as Aslaug ordered her to do; she hid her fear and resentment under a mask of power and pride. Lagertha watched her walk to the shore; the ginger had her hair loose and was dressed in black from head to toe. A golden crown rested on her head, big dangly earrings, and a golden necklace around her neck.

The funeral was a miserable affair; the moment they lit the boat, it felt like a part of Vanya died. As if she crawled into the ship and curled herself around the horse head, burning alive alongside Aslaug's corpse.

The Queen looked as magnificent as she did while alive, finally free of all the burdens that came with marrying Ragnar Lothbrok. Vanya stood alongside the shores, surrounded by shieldmaidens, a prisoner. Brynja was forbidden anywhere near her, and she never felt more alone. Hoenir was being taken care of by some healers; the only one she had left was Aros.

Her son hated the scene as much as her, clutching her black dress in his tiny fists, hiccuping in between sobs. Humming a lullaby into his ear didn't help either. She wondered if he understood what happened or what danger they were in now.

She may have walked onto the shore surrounded by Aslaug's guards, but a nod from the new Queen made them abandon her, Lagertha's warriors surrounding her instead. Their loyalties lay with the new ruler, which meant that if she ordered Vanya's death, no one would try to stop her.

Vanya's head was on the chopping block, the axe dangling over her head. But she had to hide her fear, look as if she was at peace with death, or hid an ace in her sleeve. But she was powerless; the only thing she has is her courage.

Lagertha stood away from her, smiling in satisfaction, unbothered by Vanya's hateful stare. This time, Vanya didn't pray for her demise; she wished she could kill the bitch herself. An eye for an eye, a life for a life.

By the time Ubbe and Sigurd returned, everything was in chaos. Asluag was buried, and Lagertha sat on her throne. "Where's our mother?"

"She's dead, Ubbe." She replied nonchalantly, causing the two brothers to look at her in shock. They refused to go to England with Ragnar to protect Kattegat and their mother and failed both. "I killed her."

"Why?" The question was soft and laced with confusion and hurt. Despite being the oldest, Ubbe felt useless, helpless. He left her and signed her death sentence in return.

"She took Kattegat away from me. I wanted it back." Torvi and Astrid watched the Ragnarsson curiously, waiting for them to attack. Ubbe drew his weapon, and just as fast, the rest of the hall did as well.

Sigurd tried to hold him back, knowing it would be futile and would probably result in their deaths as well. "Where's Vanya and Aros? What did you do to them?" He asked, looking around the hall for his nephew and sister in law, but couldn't see them.

"They are alive, but not here. I do not know where they are."

"Why didn't you also have us killed?" Sigurd asked again, trying to make sense of Lagertha's plan. Did she really think they wouldn't avenge their mother? No matter how strained his relationship with her was, Lagertha's actions would hold consequences.

Sitting on her throne of lies, Lagertha smiled somewhat smugly. "This was nothing to do with you. You are Ragnar's sons. It was not your fault that your father was bewitched."

Ubbe pointed his dagger towards her, spitting words like venom. "It was a mistake not to kill us."

"That's a chance I was prepared to take." Ubbe turned his back to the new Queen, dropping his coat and charging towards her. Sigurd was held back by numerous warriors with swords to his throat as his brother fought his way to Lagertha.

He would have made it if it were not for Astrid stepping in and the others using the chance to pin him to the ground. Lagertha watched the Ragnarsson growling on the floor like a feral beast, worry evident in her eyes.

Sigurd and Ubbe left the Great Hall, the older of the two beaten up pretty badly. Brynja watched them go, taking the dark alley's between the houses to stay out of the usurper's sight. Striding after them, she picked up a pebble and threw it at Sigurd's head, startling the young Prince.

He turned around in shock to see her red hair in the alley, mentioning for him to come closer, he pulled his brother after him. "Brynja? What do you want?"

The ginger rolled her blue eyes and took both by the hand, leading them through the less crowded ways, taking various turns to shake off any followers. In the end, they reached a farm on top of a hill, hushed voices spoke inside the hut. "We were worried that they killed you too. Luckily, the Gods heard some of Vanya's prayers."

"You know where she is?" Ubbe questioned the servant earnestly only to ear a shushing sound and a nod. When the door opened, they were greeted with a bearded man with a bow pointed at that.

"Put it down, father. The Ragnarssons are back."

"Thank the Gods." He lowered the weapon and allowed them in. Behind a curtain in the kitchen were hushed voices by candlelight. One belonged to their sister in law, which made them sigh in victory.

"Vanya!" Sigurd called out, pulling back the curtain to see the Saxon Princess on her knees with an older woman by her side, tending to someone on a bed of furs. The someone was barechested, with bandages over his shoulder and pants ripped in some places to give access to his other wounds. "Is that Hoenir?"

"Arrow wounds, bruises, a broken nose, and two broken fingers, cuts, and scrapes all over as well. They beat him in the morning, left him on the ground to bleed out." Vanya explained, wringing the bloody cloth in a basin of water.

"Will he be ok?" Sigurd questioned, walking closer to his friend's bedside. The two men grew close over time, bonding over their love for music and Vanya. Hoenir was a good listener and gave wise advice when needed; it would be a shame if he died like this instead of the battlefield. A man like him deserved Valhalla.

Vanya bandaged another wound on the knee as the older woman wiped his face clean, and Brynja moved to find him some new clothes. "If the Gods's will it. We gave him tea to put him to sleep. But it's up to his strength and the Gods if he lives."

"We should move him." Ubbe declared, looking down at his sister to see her crying, eyes bloodshot, and Aros sleeping on another fur next to Hoenir. "I am sorry we left."

"She shot her Ubbe." Vanya sobbed out, looking at the beaten-up man in desperation. As if Ubbe could bring Aslaug back from the dead. "After renouncing everything and asking safe passage! Lagertha shot her in the back. I felt her die in my arms..."

#history vikings #vikings #vikings imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar #ivar x oc #ivar imagine #original character #original female character

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frosteee · 4 years

Text

Undertaker and the Dispatch Conspiracy Theory

@frederickabberline

So I loved your discussion about UT and a possible conspiracy within the grim reaper dispatch that I went through the manga and found some bits and pieces which, I feel, support the theory.

[Long ass post under cut]

Background

For those who are unfamiliar, the theory is that UT had discovered something damning about the grim reaper organisation that caused him to defect.

This discovery, we post, is that the forgiveness all reapers are promised is a lie, perhaps even extending to the idea of salvation in general, disillusioning UT and morphing him into the individual we know today. Full details can be found in the awesome ongoing discussion by @frederickabberline, @midnight-in-town et al.

Because of this, UT is experimenting with creating a definite ‘after’ to the end that is death, because the ones he previously believed in, like the P4 did tradition, like the Watchdogs did duty, was fake and only fit to create a cycle of misery. He currently believes himself incapable of salvation, and so creating immortal Phantomhives is the only way he can possibly be with them.

I believe that several aspects of UT’s personality as we know it support this.

UT’s interest in breaking free of fixed, unchangeable fate.

We are shown as far back as Chapter 13 that UT has particular interest in the concept of destiny, commenting that the tie between O!Ciel (and the entire house of Phantomhive by extension) and Queen Victoria is like a ‘chain of fate’, and gets quite angry when O!Ciel declares that he put himself in that position willingly.

Grabbing Ciel by the tie and holding him there is the most directly aggressive we’ve seen UT towards O!Ciel, besides the time on the Campania when UT used him to bait Sebastian, so it seems that comment irked him.

From this it appears he holds a bit of resentment towards O!Ciel for so willingly following the path towards death and damnation.

He also seems to hold similar frustration towards the rest of the Phantomhives for ignoring his warnings and following the cursed path of the Watchdog to the grave.

He is highly amused by twists, and takes great satisfaction in the unexpected, especially when it goes against the grain. Like, for example, when Undertaker is surrounded by enemies on the Campania and he wonders which of them is truly the hunted party.

This before rapidly changing things around and making it no longer a one-sided hunt of an outnumbered rabbit but a struggle to take down a powerful hunter. In this arc, everyone is second-guessing and while UT is the one with the most control over proceedings (with his element of surprise), even in that scenario there were events he could not see coming (e.g.: the iceberg) that he had to work with/around.

Essentially, he enjoyed the unpredictability of the situation, where multiple powerful forces were clashing to decide the end. Fate was in all their hands.

What UT finds amusing also seems to revolve around this idea.

He is amused by two things:

Those who do terrible things to keep the status quo, like the P4 in their murders, which causes UT to burst out laughing after the full story is revealed. The P4 probably remind UT of who he used to be as a model grim reaper - the rigidness of their thinking, repeating the mantra that tradition and rules ‘are everything’ most definitely reminded him of his former life and the ‘grim reaper code’ he lived by. Hell, William is currently the ‘rule-abiding/spouting’ grim reaper of the bunch.

Those who go against the grain in unexpected but positive/game-changing ways. In the same arc, for example, UT comments on O!Ciel’s decision to save Harcourt from the attacking zombies, as such as a selfless act would never have occurred to his more selfish, pragmatic ancestors.

In short, UT is pleased to see actions taken by people, most notably the Phantomhives, that break from the acts/mindset that killed those who came before, and scorns those who try to keep things the same no matter the cost and meet terrible fates.

This also extends to R!Ciel, who I talk about in this post in relation to the Evil Twin theory, where R!Ciel is a direct participant/accomplice to his parents’ murder. I theorised that to create a perfect record, while having only ‘future desires’ and a soulless body to work with, UT had to improvise by splicing what he knew of R!Ciel’s past onto the boy’s record, thus creating memories/knowledge of his past and the ability to function off that.

However, this combined with R!Ciel’s ‘yearning for the future’ records also created a boy who was all too willing to replace O!Ciel as Watchdog and basically resume the terrible march towards danger and death that UT had worked so hard to avoid. His and Tanaka’s reaction to R!Ciel’s announcement that he will resume Watchdog/Earl duties reflects this, I think.

As far as UT is concerned, R!Ciel is making the same mistake as O!Ciel by following the path set out for him from birth, like all Phantomhives.

Then, finally, there’s UT’s interest/obsession with the ‘predetermined end’ that death entails, screwing with which is the driving force of his actions so far, he claims.

It feels strange for a grim reaper to be so curious about that. After all, he has died himself, and entered a sort of limbo existence which, while a punishment, is basically an afterlife.

Grim reapers are promised forgiveness, which can be paired with salvation and entry into Heaven. Demons also exist, which live in an alternate realm not (as far as I know) stated as Hell, but considering souls can be eaten by the demons who live there, so perhaps that is also a destination for souls when they die?

In any case, it would seem strange for a grim reaper to not have knowledge of some sort of afterlife, other than their own, to which souls can go to.

Unless the reapers are simply told it exists, and that they can go there if they ‘serve their time’ - and that the reality is very different.

With this idea in mind, it makes a lot of sense for UT to be a staunch advocate for breaking the chain of fate the Phantomhives are under, to the extent that death itself is overturned, because he never wants to lose another Phantomhive again, as he now believes that reuniting with them in the afterlife is impossible.

UT is so dead set against the idea of following the status quo and one’s ‘fate’ that he is ready and willing to rock the very world ‘The Superior’ governs.

UT’s focus on lies/deception.

UT also appears to be quite focused on lies and deception, either to oneself or others. We first glimpse this in the Circus Arc, where he tells Ciel to take care of his soul, for he only has the one. When Ciel responds that he already knows that, UT questions that (’Boy I know you be talkin shiiiiit~!’).

Then later in the arc, he confirms his own belief - that Ciel cannot/does not know the true weight of what he is losing by continuing down his cursed path, that Ciel is lying to himself in order to continue down it. This is clearly part of his frustration with the Phantomhives as a whole, that they keep lying to themselves in order to keep going towards a fate that only continues its destructive cycle.

Really, all of the people UT has laughed at are lying to others or themselves, or both, in order to justify destructive, morally bankrupt and questionable beliefs and actions. Ciel, the P4, Rian Stoker, etc., etc.

UT is also very concerned with the idea of people lying to others for their own benefit, as all reapers, according to the theory, are lied to.

The people who most reflect UT’s past situation are the Noah’s Arc circus troupe, who were deceived by their trusted elder, Kelvin, that in order to maintain/achieve happiness they had to dirty their hands and continue doing terrible things with no knowledge of when it will end.

Similarly, UT also continued to perform a (literally) punishing and emotionally traumatic task to the best of his ability on the orders of an overseer for the sake of eventual happiness that he discovered to be a false promise. While some of them may have believed Kelvin to be evil and perhaps lying to them, like Joker, they continued anyway because lying was the only way they could handle the weight of what they had done.

It might not be so much of a coincidence that UT begins and ends his role in that arc by pointing out the cost of self-deception/being deceived. He would know - he and all reapers are lied to and effectively kept as eternal slaves and then possibly either killed or damned in some way, but never actually ‘retired’ to Heaven.

Speaking of which, UT specifically notes that one of the most beautiful things about his bizarre dolls is the fact that they no longer have the capacity to tell lies.

Of course, this is all said with the knowledge that UT himself has/had told plenty of lies himself, and is probably deceiving himself that his goal, which is probably impossible, is possible. It’s the only thing keeping him going, after all, and UT is not without hypocrisy.

Hey, he never denied that he had a few screws loose!

UT and Sebastian’s differing views on death being ‘the end’.

Finally, the big one, UT and Seb’s very different views on death as an end. We don’t know Sebastian’s views on the afterlife, or if souls can be cast into his realm like Hell, or if there is a Heaven, but regardless Sebastian believes that a ‘definitive, hopeless end’ has beauty in it.

In response, UT only smiles, but says nothing in response, perhaps not wanting to give away too much personal information at this time. He does not agree, and his actions and words have proven just how much he disagrees.

UT, according to the theory, has entirely lost faith in forgiveness and salvation after death - at least for himself as a grim reaper. Why else would he go through so much trouble to extend life indefinitely? Why would he create a form of immortality for the living Phantomhives he could hope to see again...

Unless he believes he cannot.

Unless he believes he has lost the ones who have died forever, and that the only thing he can do for the ones he has lost is keep mementos of them (like the prayer lockets, which he treasures).

All reapers are promised forgiveness and, it’s implied, salvation in Heaven or something similar. If this was the case, if UT did not have reason to suspect otherwise, why would he bother defecting, when he could just be a model grim reaper for x amount of time and then join his loved ones once he has served his time?

Clearly, UT once believed that death was beautiful, but not because it was the end. Because there was an ‘after’ that he could aspire to and meet those he lost. He cannot agree with Sebastian’s ‘beauty in an end’ idea because to him, a hopeless end is just that - hopeless, miserable, lonely.

The death Sebastian speaks of means only eternal slavery, loneliness, hoping for salvation that never comes. Maybe once he believed death being the end to one’s life was beautiful in its way, as Will discovered in the grim reaper OVA, but not anymore.

Hope this makes sense and gives some food for thought!

#/ phew this was a monster hope I made sense through it all - not feeling well atm so not sure ^^;;;#Dispatch Conspiracy Theory #undertaker black butler #undertaker kuroshitsuji #Sebastian Michaelis #Sebastian Michaelis Kuroshiitsuji #Sebastian Michaelis Black Butler #black butler spoilers #kuroshitsuji spoilers #black butler #kuroshitsuji #theory #discussion #thoughts #meta

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