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reddogf13 · 6 months

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Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 2

On A03 as well

Status: Incomplete

Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all, Blood and Gore, Child abuse, Sexual abuse of children & adults, Child killings, religious trauma, Torture and abuse both physical and mental.

Previous chap: CH 1: Death

Next chap: CH 3: Atonement

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~Ch:2 Purgatory~

When Blake next woke the storm was over. Disappointed that he woke at all after what looked like the sun engulfed the land. It was no longer day, but night now. Blake hadn't moved an inch from his seated place up on the roof. numbly watching the anarchy happening below for the past few hours. Everyone below his gaze started off similarly lifeless. Confused about what to do with their glorious prophet dead. Giving up on doing anything with his body now festering with maggots. As the time crept further along, mayhem took over Temple Gate. Arguments stirred up on who was to blame for this. Rioting followed by mass destruction tore the town apart. The silent night broken by the crying screams of many down below. Other buildings caught on fire so much so that the town was brightly lit with the sky tinted blood red above it all. After all that, they kept trying to kill each other further and Blake had, had enough.

Before the anarchy began they, Of course, focused on Blake first. Sun having just seemed to set at the time with a red edge at the horizon. They threw all sorts of threats of what would happen as soon as they got up there or if he got down. “Skin him.” “Hang him by the loins!” “Throw him to the rack.” “Tie him to a pyre!” “Take his eyes.” “Take his heart.” Gathering together enough to start a fresh scaffold build until the arguing picked up against each other. Blaming each other for not coming to Knoths call. “You heard him. Why didn't you come out?” “He called you to kill the outsider.” “Why didn't you run after him?” Arguing on who let the outsider get by them to chase Knoth up onto the roof.

Fights breaking out wrecked what little work they did. Marta tried to enforce things to move along, but their anger was soon out of control. Mobs of people fighting broke various objects across town. Ripping things apart to unleash their pent up rage. Broken chunks of wood used for clubs to beat each other. Slabs of metal roofing turned to shields against those with broken glass. Tossing people into twisted bundles of barbed wire. Slamming things around until someone must've knocked over a torch or lamp. A fire grew to engulf a huge part of the town as it spread. They tried to put it out at first. Grabbing tubs or buckets of water from the river to toss along. A rare moment of harmony in the middle of the night for an hour or two. When the fire refused to die they gave up as it devoured too much. The fire stopped when it reached a buffer of river space it could not cross. Blake could hear them all sobbing below about what was happening to them. Soon riling up another massive fight of the blame game.

Hours of shouting gnawing on what little mental strength Blake had left. Temporarily relieved when Marta tried hard to control the populace, but without her weapon she was half the threat she used to be. Crippled further by the broken ankle Blake caused her. Still, the loud Insult tossing was paused to flee from Marta charging into the mobs. Resorting to physically tossing people back into homes despite the physical pain Blake noticed from her wincing. Some obeyed her clear physical order by remaining inside. She choked a few testing her patience by coming back out to hurl more threats. Limping after everyone else scattered around was wearing her down. The inevitable happened where she couldn't drag anyone around anymore. Soon as the mob noticed those too scared to chance her wrath before, vacated their homes to fight once again.

Their screeching voices were all Blake could hear for the next few hours. “Knoth should have killed you heretics!” “The Lord will never forgive you.” “Followers of the Devil.” “Fuck you, I'll piss on your grave!” “Come near me and I'll split your skull.”

It was clear Marta didn't have any control of the rioting members and she knew it too. Standing on the sidelines unsure of what to do since Knoth only commanded her to kill. Cultists were doing that to themselves now with bodies piling atop each other.

Marta attempted again to turn their anger upon Blake. “You fools! Stop wasting your wrath on each other and drag the demon down from up on high.”

One bloody rioting follower turned the tide. “That was your duty! You were to crush him by Knoths orders.”

Turning onto the one within their reach the mob's angry voices dog piled on. “Why'd you let him get away?!” “You wanted this!” “You always questioned the faith!” “She's a traitor!”

She went wide eyed at such accusations against her. “Shut up you rabid dogs! Don't you dare bare your teeth at me. Fetch the demon and I-”

“Heretic!” “Witch!” a few shouted. “Carve her!” Turned into a full on repeated chanting. “Carve her!” “Carve her!” “Carve her!” Taking up barbed wire for binding. Surrounding her with various weapons in hand. Sickles, knives, sheep shears, axes looking ready to butcher her like a pig for the pot.

Blake couldn't help but watch the encroaching circle close in on Marta. Who, at its center, threatened them to “Get back!” A loop of barbed wire was thrown around her neck to yank her down. She kept to her feet with a retaliating yank of the sharp cord carving her neck. Needing a group to pull back in a tug of war. Till a second wire was looped and she was slammed down into the dirt. seeing her fate closing in, she resorted to begging. “Wait, no! I always followed the prophet. I-i never! The sinners, I killed them. All of them! I did as Knoth commanded! I did-” Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Her screams did too as they slammed their blades into her. Yanking on her to ruthlessly separate her skin from its muscle. Blake couldn't watch a moment longer. Flashes of Lynn's death by butchering merged with Marta's. He had, had enough. His legs were shaking when he stood.

“STOP!” His command froze the rioting town to look up. “Knoths barely dead and still you keep killing each other. What's wrong with you all? Can’t you stop for one day?! Look around you. Your homes are burning and most of you are dead in the streets. Aren't you tired of it yet? Go the fuck home!” His legs shook the entire time after being so stiffly seated he feared collapse. Using the pick axe, if it could be called that anymore, he carefully sat back down.

The townspeople looked between one another without a word. Sounds of crackling fires filled the quiet void between them. Looking down they released the wire carving their own hands. Weapons to tools were dropped at their feet. Walking silent back into their homes not a single person wasn't covered in muck mixed bloody wounds. Abandoning their savage execution of Marta. Who, once the crowd was gone, struggled back to her feet. Blake couldn't see her face with it held low, but he could hear her heavy breathing. As she stood still, he was able to see how badly her injuries were. wires still wrapped tight around her neck. Pale skin stained red as bits dangled off from where they partly skinned her. Enough blood dripping off her finger tips to leave a trail in her path. Limping off into the night between buildings with wires dragging behind her. Blake wasn't sure if she'd survive long while covered in so many wounds. Sighing at the silence blanketing the town with dawn around the corner.

Back to watching the world below him he peered through the lit up windows. People sitting lifelessly around dinner tables. Some grabbed rags to at least clean themselves. Others prayed desperately or read the false gospel papers Knoth wrote for them. Each house discovering the next person to blame, the almighty God himself. He saw so many tear down the crosses decorating their houses. Some yelling at God for what happened or why. Some sobbing in front of candle lit holy alters they dare not ruin. Blake twitched a smile when he saw a few destroying Knoths papers. Many others he couldn't see or, judging by the dark windows, went straight to bed. The last few remaining outside couldn't return home as theirs were turned to a pile of ashes. Sleeping on chairs, benches or gathered in prayer circles. Those breaking up to search out a place to sleep.

When the sky gained a brighter blue hue a light rain storm rolled in. rainfall washing away the blood soaked ground. Snuffing out the remaining fire to smoky embers across the heaps of ashes. Thirsty, Blake took the time to drink up what he could. Slightly refreshed with more old muck washed from him. The idea to come down still didn't cross his mind. He was content to stay on the roof. until when? He didn't consider. His mind, body and spirit lacked the energy to even do the simplest of tasks. Noting everyone else was feeling the same this new morning. The explosion of rage last night left everyone exhausted. Maybe even sick as many rubbed their heads of migraines. Turning off bright lights to keep only a few candles up during the storm. No one ate that day from what he could tell. Lightly sipping water here or there being the most. Blake noticed that his own migraine had disappeared despite last night. His skull felt ready to split on the day he killed Knoth. He passed it off as a stress migraine in connection to everything before.

Focusing back on people the prayers were vastly picking up by afternoon. Their blaming turned to pleas of forgiveness. Begging to bring Knoth back to them. A rumor spread somehow that Knoth would be revived like Jesus after three days upon this night, the third night since Knoths death. Many brightened and prayed inside before coming out to do prayer circles in the rain. Heading toward a church that wasn't burned down to, most likely, pray some more. He's not coming back. Blake laughed on the inside. Damn, three nights already? How long have I been up here? Did I sleep for a whole day? Surprised, but not after how exhausted he was when Knoth was struck down.

The night came and went with no holy revival. Townsfolk continued to pray for Knoths return. Being so high on the roof it was easy to hear those speaking below. Even whispers floated up on amazingly well acoustics. He heard them talking between each other that maybe they had to “Wait another night?” One of the few suggestions tossed up as to why Knoth was still a corpse. “Did he revive on the mountain he gained his knowledge?” “That's a bit of traveling to get from there to here.” One idea having them all return home. “Is there anything about this in his gospel?” Searching the named papers for any little clue. Those who tore theirs now piecing them back on tables. Grasping at straws only a few returned to trade theories. Giving up to sit back at home.

After that there was no call to action from anybody. Blake felt completely forgotten at this point. Over the next couple days everyone stayed home running on autopilot it felt. They'd wake, eat a can of something, pray, wander around rarely talking with one another. wander some more, pray again before dinner then sleep. When Knoth died it seemed they all did too albeit at a slower pace. On The dawn of the seventh day Blake couldn't ignore something any longer, he was starving. Very literally and rain water could only last him so long up on the roof. Today was the day he decided to come down.

Using the pick to stand his joints popped from their stiff position. Taking a moment for his legs to stabilize before wobbly heading for the bell tower. Looking down to see that, unfortunately, the stairs were melted and collapsed from the fire. Grumbling with a sigh he headed to the end of the roof instead. Searching for a nearby building he could maybe jump to. The closest available was one of those radio poles Blake hated, but it was also a bit of a leap away. I could make it if I ran. Looking behind to plan out his running jump. Measuring through eyeballing it on if he had enough room. Backing up the entire roof's length he gripped on the pick in hand. After everything He didn't want to abandon it anywhere. Finding its weighty presence comforting in his hands alongside the idea he could crack a skull in one hit. Planning to use it for extra tossing momentum he leaned it far back over his shoulder. This is so stupid. He lightly scolded himself for this plan. Leaning low into his run he held enough energy to make the launching leap. Thrusting the pick over and forward to slam into the pole. Creating a loud metal screeching crunch when he hit the horns.

Taking a deep wheezing breath, he made it. Hanging from the pick handle on a pole that at least got him a whole floor lower. Gingerly he moved to get a grip around. Suddenly dropping after a screech of the horns ripped free from their top. He landed down with his weapon still in hand and the horns crashing down onto him. He got to his feet with a groan covered in minor scrapes.

As if the loud metal scraping noise wasn't enough he attracted the attention of some cultists sitting out on their porches. “The Angels down!” He heard one shout.

Ugh, that nickname stuck? Questioning why, as he thought they'd prefer what Knoth called him. Should have stayed on the roof. Not appreciating having more attention called onto his presence. Looking around at cultists watching him from afar. His anxiety spike calmed when it looked like no one was moving for him. He walked around the burnt church. Making it to the front when his energy was drained. Stopping to sit upon the front porch steps. Diving into his thoughts after having not really tapped into them for a week. I get food and then what? If I get better, then what? Head home? Thinking of how empty it would be without Lynn. Do I want to? Could I move on after this? Could I go back to work without her? Could I do it at all? ... I could wander out into the woods and- … Thoughts stopped by his skin prickling in alarm. An approaching danger he was slow to check on. Seeing a dark figure enter the edge of his vision he turned his head to see Marta limping over. He would have jolted if his body had the energy for it. She was clean of most her blood, aside from her neck still choked by bits of barbed wire deeply embedded. Sections of it healed between lots of scabbing. The wires extra length before now gone and the remaining ends looking badly frayed from a jagged cut. Her skin stitched back on in many areas of messy patch work. Dressed in a different set of ragged dark navy robes made tight by beaded strings. She stopped not far from him, her towering form eclipsing the sun over Blake.

He asked her. “Going to kill me?”

Her voice rougher than usual. “It's too late.” Asking back. “What now?”

“You're asking me?”

“You struck down our prophet, without Knoth we're all condemned. What are your plans for the world, Angel?”

“I'm not an angel and I'm not Satan either. Don't you get it? All that Knoth preached was bull shit. He's gone and the worlds still here. There's a shit ton of people out there living normal lives. There is no apocalypse or rapture coming or Antichrist in baby's. More are born and raised every day. Your all just a bunch of psychopathic murderers hiding behind a bible. Not even a real one at that. Some words from a madman rapist that thinks he hears God. But where's God now, huh? Pfft, he abandoned this place years ago I'm sure.

Me and Lynn didn't come to deliver evil in this rotten town. We came here to figure out what happened to a poor pregnant girl found along the road side and murdered in a hospital bed. Now my wife was murdered and my child- … Maybe didn't exist. I don't know what the hell else is going on around here. Between the lake of dead fish and the disease running rampant. I've seen a lot of shit that I clearly know now wasn't there at all. Maybe I got mercury poisoning. No way Lynn's pregnancy developed so fast overnight. Whatever caused it, I'm sure you bastards are partly responsible, maybe indirectly, but still. Do whatever the fuck you want. The worlds gonna keep going.” He huffed with a look over to a small crowd gathered in the distance watching his and Marta's interaction.

She glanced back to where he did, facing back to inform. “They fetched me. Sayin' the Angel had come down.”

He rolled his eyes. They try to rip her apart then beg for her help. He wasn't going to mention that out loud though. “Why call me Angel now? What made the name stick?”

“Angel O Death.”

“Ah.” he sighed, connecting the rest. Looking around he saw a lot of it, but after Knoths death so much more came all at once. Body's strung up to burning piles and heads topped on poles. It was everyday for them, but now they think the embodiment of death is visiting? At least all of them had a lot less to suffer through. Even if their deaths weren't very peaceful. All the people I've seen caged and tied around here. … Remembering back to the places he ran through. People caged or chained to beds. Were they still alive? Did someone care for them at all this past week? Someone should help them. Glancing around as if he could find someone to do it. Only me. The answer echoed in his head. He turned to Marta. “Do you know where any prisoners of Knoth are? That could still be alive?”

She glanced to the side then back to nod. “Yes, spread out in a few places.”

“Can you show me?” He wasn't sure if she'd help at all after what he did, but may as well ask.

“What would happen if I refused an Angel?” Turning to limp in a certain direction. “I can.”

Blake took a moment to get up using the pick as a walking stick. Managing to keep pace with Marta even with the heavy weapon. Ignoring the many stares they got while walking past. Some heading back inside. From the sight of him or Marta he wasn't sure. Looking forward to her as she mumbled something. Picking up bits he recognized as more bible verses that she usually spoke before. She went quiet when they stopped before a building. A large barn-like structure with a huge iron lock and chain shutting its front.

“Here are where most are kept. … Knoth had the keys.”

“... Ah. Well.” he took a deep breath after inspecting the lock. Swinging back the pick to slam it down. Missing the lock he aimed for, instead he bashed a sizable hole into the whole door. Close enough. He shrugged on the inside. Peeking through before he stepped in. It was dark, filled with rusted cages lined against the walls. People maimed, or about to be, shivering wide eyed in the cages at Blake's appearance bearing Marta's staff. Torture equipment lined down the middle covered in blood to bits of meat from the last victim. He stepped down the blood stained concrete to the first cage with someone locked inside. They were starved, but alive enough to lift their head and look at who had entered. Many shivering scared after the loud crash he caused. He inspected the lock, another big iron needing keys. Blake tried his attempt again without missing. His strike sliced the rusted hunk of metal off with a spark. Excited by his success he moved to the next.

The next slave crumpled down under Blake's presence. “Have you come to kill us?”

“No.” he answered with a slice of the lock.

“Has Knoth forgiven us?”

Blake paused. “No, Knoths dead. … I killed him.” He hesitated to answer the second part. Not knowing how they'd react.

He continued cutting the cages free of their locks to at least allow those to leave. He didn't have a plan further than that, he didn't even have one for himself. Those freed stepped out to lightly gather with each other. Watching Blake go down the line. When he was done he walked back out. Passing by Marta outside waiting for his return. Before they could move to the next place the freed slaves stepped out to follow him. Shrinking back at Marta, shooting them a look. Disapproval laced by disgust in her downward gaze.

“Marta.” Blake's call broke her stare. When she moved to lead him onward the slaves cautiously stepped out. Slowly following after him in a closely compact group. He didn't mind that they were following him, but he wasn't sure what they expected.

“You, uh- you guys can do what you want now.” Flashing an awkward smile. “You don't have to follow if you don't want to.”

They looked between each other lost at the idea of wandering off on their own. Blake stretched his shoulders in a subtle shrug. Wincing at his shoulder sending a bolt of pain. Geeze, what was that from? Feeling along his shoulder he could tell it was badly bruised. From what? Shifting away the ragged curtains still covering him along with his clothing. He saw the massive bruise line left from the first day. The imprint matches well to a certain section of the pick axe handle. Oh yeah. Guessing it didn't hurt sooner since he did a strange hibernation on that roof, refusing to move. Things are gonna catch up with me now. Arriving at the next place he roughly swallowed at what he may be about to see. Going ahead of Marta waiting on the side he stepped through the rickety looking shack. Looking around a corner he was startled back by the sight of someone.

Himself, looking unrecognizable in the mirror's reflection. Fuck, I do look like death. The shredded curtains formed enough of a hooded cloak. Thin from lack of food his face was more gaunt then before. Still mostly pale from the ash not washed away by the rain. Part of it sliced and other parts peeling from being burned. Looking down, parts of his arms were the same. Edges of burnt skin black around the red freshly exposed sections. He grabbed the leftover curtains hanging off him to be rid of it all. Feeling ten pounds lighter already when the fabric was off. Brushing the dead skin about to break away on its own. Stepping forward again he reached a group of poor women. Beds lined up with the women shackled naked to them. They didn't even respond to his presence. He swallowed before stepping in, avoiding looking toward them. Cutting the chains, having the women jolt up. They flinched away from him, understandably. Relaxing only slightly when the others arrived behind him. Doing their best to help by finding bedding to cover them. They joined the growing group of the freed.

On the path of freeing others Blake's crowd grew to a sizable thirty-three freed by the time he was finishing. Others followed, but they were from around Temple Gate. At first Blake feared they would start another fight. Instead they acted pleasant toward those out of their prisons. Reunions were occurring between family's separated under Knoths rule. Many splitting away to their homes they long thought they'd never see again. Others happily surprised their family's weren't long dead while they were locked away.

Further along his task Blake grew more exhausted. struggling to keep freeing people of their shackles at each new destination. If Marta didn't have her limp holding her back he would've fallen behind by now. Passing her into another building to the first he saw shackled to the floor. Catching his breath just after holding the pick axe back in readying to hit. Slamming it down on the lock the blade screeched off the metal followed by a train of sparks. A gouge left behind from the hit, but the lock was still intact. He tried again without success. Guilt eating at him when he failed at breaking the person's chains. Raining only sparks off the scraped lock refusing to budge. Noticing his plight the others looked around. One taking a set of keys off the wall to hold out to him.

Blake caught his breath to speak. “Thank you.” Taking the keys to unlock those left. Exiting the building he returned to Marta's side.

This time she didn't move on when he returned. Before he could ask why, she answered. “Those were the last.”

“That's all? … No, I remember more.” Backtracking his steps when he first entered Temple Gate. “There was a basement with cages. Where's that?”

“Those in the compounds down below escaped. Fled out of Temple Gate off to Val I imagine.”

“But Val's dead.”

Marta shook her head. “No, I pray that heretic was.”

#outlast 2 #blake langermann #outlast 2: deliverance #marta outlast #temple gate #val outlast

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plainbrunettelbl · 4 years

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ABO (A) Dragon Bakugo Katsuki x (O) Reader Crimson Scales (Part One)

Word count: 2487

Warnings: Cursing. Attempted assault. Gutting of an animal.

Title: ABO (A) Dragon Bakugo Katsuki x (O) Reader Crimson Scales (Part One)

Summary: A Knight in shining red scales saves you.

(Gif not mine)

💥-You had been on the outskirts of your village picking wildflower and berries to bring back to your den. You wanted to go farther into the wilderness but everyone knew not to step foot into the dragon forest.

💥-Anyone who was able to listen understood that those who went into the forest would likely meet a fiery death. There hasn’t been a dragon sighting in a while so you felt safe enough to visit the outskirts.

💥-You had heard stories of Omega princesses being abducted by dragons but didn’t give it a thought. You were just an Omega and no princess at that. Dragons had known to be attracted to two things.

💥-Omegas and jewels. Hence their obsession with Omega princesses.

💥-Anything shiny they would take back to their cave and hoard. Dragons were very particular about their hoard. They only let family and their mates around it. A thief was likely to catch sight of the glittering mass before he was incinerated.

💥-Dragons liked to be left alone in their cave dens so it was no wonder one hadn’t been sighted in a while. You knew the village men had been slowly heading into the forest to set hunting traps but nothing too serious yet.

💥-Just testing the waters to see if a hulking mass was lurking about ready to unleash their rage for the villagers trespassing. You felt confident in your wildflower picking so didn’t see the harm.

💥-No dragon was about to throw a fit over the missing flowers. Missing deer on the other hand... Let’s just say the deer wouldn’t be the only thing roasted that night. You hummed along as you did so.

💥-You heard a snap of a branch but didn’t turn towards it. Plenty of small critters skittering about. You only lifted your head when you caught the scent of multiple Alphas.

💥-They smelled disgusting to your Omega nose. Part of the reason why you have yet to take up a mate from the village. You have been of age but didn’t see any interest in the rough and rowdy Alphas that crowded the town.

💥-Not to say they weren't interested in you. You had a number of Alphas sending your courting gifts but had yet to accept one. You didn’t feel like being tied down to an Alpha that would want you to sit around by the fire sewing all day.

💥-You wanted adventure.

💥-You haven’t gotten the opportunity to do so yet but you dreamed of white beaches and sapphire seas. No Alpha here would even let their Omega venture to the nearby town.

💥-Your eyes caught sight of three Alphas looking at you from a few yards away.

💥-“Omega!” The middle one in the group called out. “I have a couple of berries at home if you would like to come by and pick those!” He howled in laughter. His friends followed suit.

💥-You scoffed and rolled your eyes but resumed your task. Alpha fools thinking they were the best thing this town had to offer. You thought them harmless until you heard whispering among them.

💥-You felt a prickle on your next as you felt their gazes change from one of laughter to hunger. You wasted no time hurling your basket in their direction before taking off into the forest.

💥-You would rather take your chances with a dragon then find out what they had planned. You heard them yell and give chase. Clearly enjoying the chase.

💥-“What about the dragons, Pete?” One shouted, still running for you.

💥-“Fuck the dragons! Haven’t seen one here in forever. Bastards are all gone.” One shouted.

💥-You had cleared a fair amount of distance but if you were close enough to hear them yelling then you weren't far enough. You heard the sound of rushing water before you run across the river.

💥-Without giving it a second thought you hopped him. It didn’t matter that the water was less than welcoming. The water went up to your thighs before getting higher the farther you went in.

💥-“Look! The pretty Omega wants to go for a swim. If you wanted your clothes off we could have helped you Omega!” One of them spotted you still in the treeline. Before you would trudge even farther into the water a low growl was heard.

💥-You snapped your eyes to the other side of the river. The side you were making your way to but suddenly had second thoughts when you saw a hulking mass waiting for you.

💥-He was in the tree line as well but the light filtered through the leaves casts a brilliant light on his crimson scales. Rubies came to mind while gazing at him. His head was as big as a wagon.

💥-His vermilion eyes catching your frightened ones before shifting to the startled Alphas. Clearly taken back that they came across a dragon. One looked like he was about to wet himself.

💥-He threw out another growl, louder than the last one.

💥-“The Omega wasn’t worth this much, Pete.” One shakily said.

💥-“Shut the fuck up, Frank.” The other glared.

💥-“Listen, how about if we leave you the Omega and we go on our merry way.” The middle guy offered with a crooked smile.

💥-The offer seemed to anger the dragon even more. He lifted his head higher, smoke coming out of his nostrils. Before you could blink his mouth opened and he roared fire at them.

💥-You smelt their clothes catch fire before all three yelped and went fleeing back into the safety of the trees. You were left stuck in the middle of the river frozen in fear.

💥-You took a shaky step back. It was a mistake. Your foot slipped on a slick rock causing you to lose your balance and fall back. Your soaked clothes doing nothing to help you stay upright.

💥-You went falling back and felt a pinch before darkness overtook you.

***

💥-You heard a crackling of a fire before anything else. Embers spitting at each other. Next, you noticed the light flickering under your eyelids. You let out a soft moan at the pain in your head.

💥-It felt like someone was pounding a nail into it.

💥-“Calm down, Omega. You are fine.” A rough voice said. “Just a little head wound. Nothing I couldn’t fix up for you.” He continued.

💥-You calmed at his rough but kind voice. You had yet to open your eyes. Your body still your own yet sent out a small chirp. An Omegas way of calling out to an Alpha when in distress or need of comfort.

💥-The Alpha answered back instantly. A loud purr leaving his lips before you felt his presence shift and move away for a second. You let out a small whine. Not wanting to be left alone.

💥-“Calm down, Omega. I was just getting you some tea for your pain.” He said, reaching out to touch your head.

💥-You hummed as his warm hands came in contact with your cheek. You felt slightly chilled even as you were surrounded by soft blankets. The fabric felt too soft to be regular cloth but your mind was still disoriented not quite all there yet.

💥-“Drink, Omega.” He rumbled, lifted a wooden cup to your mouth.

💥-You drank without hesitation. If he wanted to kill you he could have done so already. The drink was warmed and held a small about of sweetness. Honey. You hadn’t had honey in years!

💥-You let out a happy purr before gulping down the rest of the liquid.

💥-“Slowly, I don’t want to be cleaning your vomit off the floor of my den.” He sternly but softly chastised.

💥-You wanted to pout but did as requested. Once you had a few more sip and he laid your head back down you slowly started to come to your senses. You finally opened your eyes.

💥-You were surrounded by rocks so you knew you were in a cave of sorts. The fire by your side, lighting the big cavern sparsely. You saw more shadows than light. You caught sight of the Alphas furs clothes before meeting his eyes.

💥-Vermilion eyes staring back at you.

💥-Like the dragons!

💥-“Dragon!” You yelped and pulled away from him.

💥-He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I swear, I save your life and the first thing you do is cower in fear.”

💥-You sat frozen, clutching a blanket to your chest before slightly relaxing. He had helped you in more ways than one and here you were insulting him. You had a right to be fearful of his kind but he hasn’t done anything that showed that you should be.

💥-He did try to burn a few Alphas but the had it coming.

💥-“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was just startled.” You shyly apologized. “Thank you for the tea. And nursing me back to health and all.”

💥-“You still have days till you recover so I wouldn’t thank me yet, Omega.” He grunted. He was upset that you got hurt even when he was trying to save you. Your sweet scent shouldn't be ridden with pain.

💥-“I guess I do.” You nodded before wincing.

💥-“Lay back down I don’t need you passing out on me again. I’ll go hunt for some dinner.” He put a few more logs on the fire before heading out of the cave.

💥-He came back with a deer slung over his shoulders. You were used to seeing dead animals strung up at the meat market so you didn’t squirm at the sight of him skinning and gutting it as most would.

💥-“I usually eat them whole in my dragon form but since you are human that option is out of the question.” He explained. “I think I have some pans I can cook it on around here somewhere. If not I can just roast it.”

💥-“Anything cooked is good in my book.” You smiled, still in the nest of blankets he had set you in but now propped up.

💥-When he had carried you back in his human form he used his fire powers to dry your clothes. He didn’t want to have an angry Omega on his hands because he undressed them.

💥-Without a second thought, he softly laid you down on a bed of blankets he was hoarding for his future mate. He didn’t want to think about your frame looked perfect sitting among them.

💥-Like it was meant to be.

💥-He quickly shut out those thoughts and stood up to go look for some pans he might have taken. Dragons are known for their sticky fingers.

***

💥-You had spent the last few days in comfort. You had learned his name was Bakugo. He was a little growly but it did nothing to stop your growing affection for him.

💥-He had a hard exterior but you knew him to have a soft inside. He showed it in the way he kept checking on you throughout the day. His concern for you when you finally felt better enough to walk around.

💥-When you felt able enough to walk more than a few minutes you asked him if you could take a bath. He was eager to show you to the bathing pool he had carved out of his cave.

💥-He preened when you softly praised it. Clearly satisfied that it met your approval. His Alpha purring inside him. The pool was another thing he had made with his future mate in mind.

💥-The water came in and out so it was fresh and clean.

💥-You might have spent a few more minutes than you were supposed to splashing around. The water was warm and comforting. Once out he shyly dropped off some gowns that might have went missing from their previous owners.

💥-You laughed at his slightly embarrassed face. He couldn’t help his nature of taking things. It was what dragons did. Something deeply ingrained in him. You patted his shoulder before shooing him away to get dressed.

💥-But even though you sat in a silk gown and laid among soft pillows and blankets your mood was doleful. You had fully recovered and were well enough to make the journey back to your village.

💥-The only problem was that a certain growly Alpha wouldn’t be able to come with you. You both knew it was coming but ignored it. Bakugo had gone out to chop more firewood.

💥-It was more for you since he could see clearly in the dead of night.

💥-He had came in stacks of logs in hand. He knew what was coming the moment he saw your saddened face. He dropped the logs to the floor.

💥-“What’s wrong, Y/N?” He asked, already having an idea on what you were gonna say.

💥-“I should be able to go back to my village now.” You stated in a soft tone.

💥-He wanted to growl at the thought but held it back.

💥-“Yes, you are.” He agreed, barley able to grunt out the words.

💥-“What are you gonna do after I am gone?” You hesitantly asked, scared of his answer.

💥-“Since you been here I haven’t been able to take flight like I am used to. I was thinking about heading south and visiting a somewhat friend of mine.” His words burning in his mouth.

💥-His Dragon was excited about stretching its wings but the thought of coming back to his den and not seeing you curled up in your nest made him want to roar in grief.

💥-His Dragon already claimed you. To him you were his and he was yours.

💥-“South? Like were the beach is?” Your mood picking up slightly.

💥-“Ya. I tend to stay away from the shore because the sand on my scales is a bitch to get out but I love the feel gliding above water so I tend to stick more to the ocean.” He remarked.

💥-“That sounds amazing! I always wanted to go to the beach.” You smiled, imagining his red frame gliding across the blue water.

💥-Your thoughts catching up to you and your mood once again fell. You wouldn’t be able to witness the sparkling water or pink shells. You would be back in the village by then.

💥-You Omega was whining at the thought. That wasn’t home anymore. Home was were this ruby eyed Alpha was. You didn’t have many ties to the village so why would you want to go back.

💥-“Bakugo?” You peered up at him.

💥-His steady gaze already on you.

💥-“Yes?” He rumbled, his eyes raking over your face

💥-“You think I can come with you?” You got the words out before you talked yourself into holding them back.

💥-“I would like nothing more.” He purred, making his way towards you.

💥-You didn’t know what being a Dragon’s mate had in store for you but you accepted his embrace with a happy purr. Your home is right by his side.

I was in a fantasy mood. I hope you liked it. I really quite like this Dragon AU. What are your thoughts on it? I feel like there could be a part 2 for this but I don’t know what it would be about.

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nfp · 3 years

Photo

the Legendary fight of Gilgamesh :

Tablet one[

]

The story introduces Gilgamesh, king of Uruk. Gilgamesh, two-thirds god and one-third man, is oppressing his people, who cry out to the gods for help. For the young women of Uruk this oppression takes the form of a droit du seigneur, or "lord's right", to sleep with brides on their wedding night. For the young men (the tablet is damaged at this point) it is conjectured that Gilgamesh exhausts them through games, tests of strength, or perhaps forced labour on building projects. The gods respond to the people's pleas by creating an equal to Gilgamesh who will be able to stop his oppression. This is the primitive man, Enkidu, who is covered in hair and lives in the wild with the animals. He is spotted by a trapper, whose livelihood is being ruined because Enkidu is uprooting his traps. The trapper tells the sun-god Shamash about the man, and it is arranged for Enkidu to be seduced by Shamhat, a temple prostitute, his first step towards being tamed. After six days and seven nights (or two weeks, according to more recent scholarship[25]) of lovemaking and teaching Enkidu about the ways of civilization, she takes Enkidu to a shepherd's camp to learn how to be civilized. Gilgamesh, meanwhile, has been having dreams about the imminent arrival of a beloved new companion and asks his mother, Ninsun, to help interpret these dreams.

Tablet two[

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]

Fragment of Tablet II of the Epic of Gilgamesh, Sulaymaniyah Museum, Iraq

Shamhat brings Enkidu to the shepherds' camp, where he is introduced to a human diet and becomes the night watchman. Learning from a passing stranger about Gilgamesh's treatment of new brides, Enkidu is incensed and travels to Uruk to intervene at a wedding. When Gilgamesh attempts to visit the wedding chamber, Enkidu blocks his way, and they fight. After a fierce battle, Enkidu acknowledges Gilgamesh's superior strength and they become friends. Gilgamesh proposes a journey to the Cedar Forest to slay the monstrous demi-god Humbaba in order to gain fame and renown. Despite warnings from Enkidu and the council of elders, Gilgamesh is not deterred.

Tablet three[

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]

The elders give Gilgamesh advice for his journey. Gilgamesh visits his mother, the goddess Ninsun, who seeks the support and protection of the sun-god Shamash for their adventure. Ninsun adopts Enkidu as her son, and Gilgamesh leaves instructions for the governance of Uruk in his absence.

Tablet four[

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]

The second dream of Gilgamesh on the journey to the Forest of Cedar. Epic of Gilgamesh tablet from Hattusa, Turkey. 13th century BCE. Neues Museum, Germany

Gilgamesh and Enkidu journey to the Cedar Forest. Every few days they camp on a mountain, and perform a dream ritual. Gilgamesh has five terrifying dreams about falling mountains, thunderstorms, wild bulls, and a thunderbird that breathes fire. Despite similarities between his dream figures and earlier descriptions of Humbaba, Enkidu interprets these dreams as good omens, and denies that the frightening images represent the forest guardian. As they approach the cedar mountain, they hear Humbaba bellowing, and have to encourage each other not to be afraid.

Tablet five[

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]

Tablet V of the

Epic of Gilgamesh

Reverse side of the newly discovered tablet V of the

Epic of Gilgamesh

. It dates back to the old Babylonian period, 2003–1595 BC and is currently housed in the

Sulaymaniyah Museum

, Iraq

The heroes enter the cedar forest. Humbaba, the guardian of the Cedar Forest, insults and threatens them. He accuses Enkidu of betrayal, and vows to disembowel Gilgamesh and feed his flesh to the birds. Gilgamesh is afraid, but with some encouraging words from Enkidu the battle commences. The mountains quake with the tumult and the sky turns black. The god Shamash sends 13 winds to bind Humbaba, and he is captured. Humbaba pleads for his life, and Gilgamesh pities him. He offers to make Gilgamesh king of the forest, to cut the trees for him, and to be his slave. Enkidu, however, argues that Gilgamesh should kill Humbaba to establish his reputation forever. Humbaba curses them both and Gilgamesh dispatches him with a blow to the neck, as well as killing his seven sons.[25] The two heroes cut down many cedars, including a gigantic tree that Enkidu plans to fashion into a gate for the temple of Enlil. They build a raft and return home along the Euphrates with the giant tree and (possibly) the head of Humbaba.

Tablet six[

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]

Gilgamesh rejects the advances of the goddess Ishtar because of her mistreatment of previous lovers like Dumuzi. Ishtar asks her father Anu to send the Bull of Heaven to avenge her. When Anu rejects her complaints, Ishtar threatens to raise the dead who will "outnumber the living" and "devour them". Anu states that if he gives her the Bull of Heaven, Uruk will face 7 years of famine. Ishtar provides him with provisions for 7 years in exchange for the bull. Ishtar leads the Bull of Heaven to Uruk, and it causes widespread devastation. It lowers the level of the Euphrates river, and dries up the marshes. It opens up huge pits that swallow 300 men. Without any divine assistance, Enkidu and Gilgamesh attack and slay it, and offer up its heart to Shamash. When Ishtar cries out, Enkidu hurls one of the hindquarters of the bull at her. The city of Uruk celebrates, but Enkidu has an ominous dream about his future failure.

Tablet seven[

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]

In Enkidu's dream, the gods decide that one of the heroes must die because they killed Humbaba and Gugalanna. Despite the protestations of Shamash, Enkidu is marked for death. Enkidu curses the great door he has fashioned for Enlil's temple. He also curses the trapper and Shamhat for removing him from the wild. Shamash reminds Enkidu of how Shamhat fed and clothed him, and introduced him to Gilgamesh. Shamash tells him that Gilgamesh will bestow great honors upon him at his funeral, and will wander into the wild consumed with grief. Enkidu regrets his curses and blesses Shamhat instead. In a second dream, however, he sees himself being taken captive to the Netherworld by a terrifying Angel of Death. The underworld is a "house of dust" and darkness whose inhabitants eat clay, and are clothed in bird feathers, supervised by terrifying beings. For 12 days, Enkidu's condition worsens. Finally, after a lament that he could not meet a heroic death in battle, he dies. In a famous line from the epic, Gilgamesh clings to Enkidu's body and denies that he has died until a maggot drops from the corpse's nose.

Tablet eight[

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Gilgamesh delivers a lament for Enkidu, in which he calls upon mountains, forests, fields, rivers, wild animals, and all of Uruk to mourn for his friend. Recalling their adventures together, Gilgamesh tears at his hair and clothes in grief. He commissions a funerary statue, and provides grave gifts from his treasury to ensure that Enkidu has a favourable reception in the realm of the dead. A great banquet is held where the treasures are offered to the gods of the Netherworld. Just before a break in the text there is a suggestion that a river is being dammed, indicating a burial in a river bed, as in the corresponding Sumerian poem, The Death of Gilgamesh.

Tablet nine[

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]

Tablet nine opens with Gilgamesh roaming the wild wearing animal skins, grieving for Enkidu. Having now become fearful of his own death, he decides to seek Utnapishtim ("the Faraway"), and learn the secret of eternal life. Among the few survivors of the Great Flood, Utnapishtim and his wife are the only humans to have been granted immortality by the gods. Gilgamesh crosses a mountain pass at night and encounters a pride of lions. Before sleeping he prays for protection to the moon god Sin. Then, waking from an encouraging dream, he kills the lions and uses their skins for clothing. After a long and perilous journey, Gilgamesh arrives at the twin peaks of Mount Mashu at the end of the earth. He comes across a tunnel, which no man has ever entered, guarded by two scorpion monsters, who appear to be a married couple. The husband tries to dissuade Gilgamesh from passing, but the wife intervenes, expresses sympathy for Gilgamesh, and (according to the poem's editor Benjamin Foster) allows his passage.[26] He passes under the mountains along the Road of the Sun. In complete darkness he follows the road for 12 "double hours", managing to complete the trip before the Sun catches up with him. He arrives at the Garden of the gods, a paradise full of jewel-laden trees.

Tablet ten[

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]

Gilgamesh meets alewife Siduri, who assumes that he is a murderer or thief because of his disheveled appearance. Gilgamesh tells her about the purpose of his journey. She attempts to dissuade him from his quest, but sends him to Urshanabi the ferryman, who will help him cross the sea to Utnapishtim. Gilgamesh, out of spontaneous rage, destroys the stone charms that Urshanabi keeps with him. He tells him his story, but when he asks for his help, Urshanabi informs him that he has just destroyed the objects that can help them cross the Waters of Death, which are deadly to the touch. Urshanabi instructs Gilgamesh to cut down 120 trees and fashion them into punting poles. When they reach the island where Utnapishtim lives, Gilgamesh recounts his story, asking him for his help. Utnapishtim reprimands him, declaring that fighting the common fate of humans is futile and diminishes life's joys.

Tablet eleven[

edit

]See also:

Gilgamesh flood myth

George Smith, the man who transliterated and read the so-called "Babylonian Flood Story" of Tablet XI

Gilgamesh observes that Utnapishtim seems no different from himself, and asks him how he obtained his immortality. Utnapishtim explains that the gods decided to send a great flood. To save Utnapishtim the god Enki told him to build a boat. He gave him precise dimensions, and it was sealed with pitch and bitumen. His entire family went aboard together with his craftsmen and "all the animals of the field". A violent storm then arose which caused the terrified gods to retreat to the heavens. Ishtar lamented the wholesale destruction of humanity, and the other gods wept beside her. The storm lasted six days and nights, after which "all the human beings turned to clay". Utnapishtim weeps when he sees the destruction. His boat lodges on a mountain, and he releases a dove, a swallow, and a raven. When the raven fails to return, he opens the ark and frees its inhabitants. Utnapishtim offers a sacrifice to the gods, who smell the sweet savor and gather around. Ishtar vows that just as she will never forget the brilliant necklace that hangs around her neck, she will always remember this time. When Enlil arrives, angry that there are survivors, she condemns him for instigating the flood. Enki also castigates him for sending a disproportionate punishment. Enlil blesses Utnapishtim and his wife, and rewards them with eternal life. This account largely matches the flood story that concludes the Epic of Atra-Hasis.[27]

The main point seems to be that when Enlil granted eternal life it was a unique gift. As if to demonstrate this point, Utnapishtim challenges Gilgamesh to stay awake for six days and seven nights. Gilgamesh falls asleep, and Utnapishtim instructs his wife to bake a loaf of bread on each of the days he is asleep, so that he cannot deny his failure to keep awake. Gilgamesh, who is seeking to overcome death, cannot even conquer sleep. After instructing Urshanabi, the ferryman, to wash Gilgamesh and clothe him in royal robes, they depart for Uruk. As they are leaving, Utnapishtim's wife asks her husband to offer a parting gift. Utnapishtim tells Gilgamesh that at the bottom of the sea there lives a boxthorn-like plant that will make him young again. Gilgamesh, by binding stones to his feet so he can walk on the bottom, manages to obtain the plant. Gilgamesh proposes to investigate if the plant has the hypothesized rejuvenation ability by testing it on an old man once he returns to Uruk.[28] When Gilgamesh stops to bathe, it is stolen by a serpent, who sheds its skin as it departs. Gilgamesh weeps at the futility of his efforts, because he has now lost all chance of immortality. He returns to Uruk, where the sight of its massive walls prompts him to praise this enduring work to Urshanabi.

Tablet twelve[

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]

This tablet is mainly an Akkadian translation of an earlier Sumerian poem, "Gilgamesh and the Netherworld" (also known as "Gilgamesh, Enkidu, and the Netherworld" and variants), although it has been suggested that it is derived from an unknown version of that story.[29] The contents of this last tablet are inconsistent with previous ones: Enkidu is still alive, despite having died earlier in the epic. Because of this, its lack of integration with the other tablets, and the fact that it is almost a copy of an earlier version, it has been referred to as an 'inorganic appendage' to the epic.[30] Alternatively, it has been suggested that "its purpose, though crudely handled, is to explain to Gilgamesh (and the reader) the various fates of the dead in the Afterlife" and in "an awkward attempt to bring closure",[31] it both connects the Gilgamesh of the epic with the Gilgamesh who is the King of the Netherworld,[32] and is "a dramatic capstone whereby the twelve-tablet epic ends on one and the same theme, that of "seeing" (= understanding, discovery, etc.), with which it began."[33]

Gilgamesh complains to Enkidu that various of his possessions (the tablet is unclear exactly what – different translations include a drum and a ball) have fallen into the underworld. Enkidu offers to bring them back. Delighted, Gilgamesh tells Enkidu what he must and must not do in the underworld if he is to return. Enkidu does everything which he was told not to do. The underworld keeps him. Gilgamesh prays to the gods to give him back his friend. Enlil and Suen don't reply, but Enki and Shamash decide to help. Shamash makes a crack in the earth, and Enkidu's ghost jumps out of it. The tablet ends with Gilgamesh questioning Enkidu about what he has seen in the underworld.

#Gilgamesh

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

Text

April Contest Submission #12: The Seal-Wife

Words: ca. 1,500 Setting: Scottish myth AU Lemon: no CW: coerced marriage

Long ago, when the world was younger and smaller, a township stood atop the great cliffs of Clo Mor. It was home to many, and one of those was a young woman named Anna. Anna was the apothecary’s apprentice, and a forester’s daughter besides, and so full well knew she the lore of the wild lands beyond the steadings, of the rivers and lakes, and of the great and endless Sea. She was a happy girl, or so folks would say, with a ready laugh and rosy cheeks, and her flame-kissed hair and emerald cloak left aught but smiles in their wake.

On the day her life would change forever, Anna walked the paths that led down the great cliffs, gathering golden samphire for her mistress. She stepped without a care down narrow ledges scarcely a hand’s-span across, for the heights held no fear for one who had walked their length since she could put one foot before another. Above her the sea birds squawked in their endless debate, and below her the waves beat the endless rhythm that every child learned in their cradle, and all things were as they should have been.

All things, save one.

On the rocks, far below, a patch of white seemed to glow against the umber cliffs. Anna climbed down, flower basket in hand, to see what had washed ashore. And when she had gotten a little closer, Anna was shocked to find it was not an old sailcloth, or a goodwife’s bedsheet blown far astray, but a woman. Naked she lay upon the sand, and for a horrible moment Anna thought her drowned. But her paleness was no corpse-pallor – her flawless skin was like cream on ewe’s milk, and her silver hair shone like moonlight. Anna could not help but drink down the sight of her from her stony perch. But then she spotted the tawny mass of fur piled next to the woman, like an old fireplace rug, and her breath caught. For the fur was no fur, but a sealskin, and the woman was no woman, but a maighdeann-ròin, or a selkie, as most folk named them, come to sun herself upon the shore.

Anna crept down the path as quickly as she dared, staying silent with all the craft she could muster. Two things she saw, as she came close. First was delightful confirmation that the selkie in her human form was the most breathtaking, exquisite creature Anna had ever laid eyes on, and so intent was she on her pale lips and the rise and fall of her breasts that Anna nearly stumbled from the ledge.

The second thing she saw was her brother, Kristoff, creeping down the rocky beach, one hand outstretched towards the sealskin.

Anna screamed, and half-ran, half-fell down the remainder of the cliff-side path, but it was too late. The selkie stood tall, and Kristoff was on his knees before her. In one fist she clutched fast his sandy hair. In the other, a knife of knapped flint pressed tight to his neck.

“Please!” Anna begged. She stumbled to a stop a respectful distance away. “Please, my brother wished no harm upon you. Please, do not hurt him!”

“No harm?” The selkie turned, and even through her terror the creature’s beauty struck Anna like a blow. She dragged Kristoff forward by his hair. He was a strapping lad, but she swung him forward with the same ease that Anna had swung her now-forgotten flower basket. “Tell your sister why you came upon me like a thief, man-o’-the-cliffs.”

Kristoff’s fearful eyes met Anna’s, and she prayed that he spoke true, even if his words damned him, for she’d been taught that selkies hated lies with a fury.

“It-it is said that if you can steal a selkie’s sealskin, she’ll not be able to return to the sea, and that for it’s safe return she’ll… she’ll have to… barter with you…” Kristoff’s voice trailed off, laden heavy with shame.

“Do you hear him, lass?” spat the selkie. “He intended not only to take from me what is mine, but to use it to compel me into some filthy act that he hasn’t even the gall to name.”

Kristoff’s eyes would not meet hers, and Anna knew that the selkie had the right of it. She felt disgust curdle in her stomach. “It’s just a story. A-a foolish lie boys tell each other when they’ve had too much drink and their blood is up,” Anna pleaded quietly. “Like pissing on wild oats or leaving mistletoe under the bed of a boy you like. It’s plain as day that he couldn’t have done you harm. Please, let him go.”

“Intention counts for naught, then, does it?” The selkie was still for so long that Anna was certain that her words had swayed her heart, but then she brought the flint again to Kristoff’s neck. “Nay, `twas my skin he sought to steal. And it’s his skin I’ll take in restitution.”

With a cry, Anna hurled herself at the selkie, and vainly she tried to pull the blade from her brother’s throat. But, however delicate her frame, the selkie’s arm was as iron forged, and Anna dropped to the ground at the creature’s feet, sobbing.

“Please,” she cried. “you have the right, but if it’s a skin you must have, take mine, I beg you!”

Kristoff cried out at this, but as hard as he thrashed in the selkie’s grip, he could not free himself. The selkie bent down and lifted Anna’s chin with the hand that still bore the knife. Her smile made Anna’s race. “And a far prettier skin it is, lass.” She sighed. “But… a man should pay his own debts.”

Anna clutched at her hand desperately. “If not my life you’ll take, then name your price. Anything I have, any service I can render, it is yours. Please, there must be something.”

At this, the selkie seemed to hesitate. “A… considerable offer, lass,” she muttered. She rose to her feet and offered her hand to Anna, who took it.

“My name is Anna,” said she.

“Well, Anna, tell me true: are there any oaths that bind you to the people of the cliffs? Any claims upon your person? Any debts you must repay?”

Anna did not hesitate. “No,” she lied.

The selkie pursed her lovely lips. “Say it out loud, Anna. Swear to it, on your brother’s life and fortune.”

“There are no oaths that bind me.” Kristoff sputtered at the lie, but Anna silenced him with a furious glance. “No man has claim upon me. I have no debts. So I swear, on my brother’s life and fortune. And my own.”

Her brother fell back onto the rocks as the selkie released her grip, and he gaped up at both of them.

“You are fortunate, little man, that your sister’s love speaks to your character better than your actions,” she said. “Now, go. Return to your homestead, and tell your kith and kin everything that transpired here today.”

Kristoff staggered to his feet. “I’m not going anywhere until someone tells me-“

“Kristoff!” Anna shouted. “Kristoff, please. Do as she says. And tell mother and father that I love them.”

He made as if to protest again, but finally he nodded in grim acceptance, and Anna and the selkie watched him scrabble up the cliff path until he was out of sight.

“That’s that, then.” The selkie turned to Anna, and she was somehow even more beautiful with the righteous anger gone from her face. She stepped closer still, and all at once Anna remembered that she was naked. Color leapt into her cheeks, and she had to struggle not to retreat from the selkie’s advance.

The selkie laughed softly. “Why do you blush, dear Anna? Could it be you’ve guessed what boon I intend to ask of you?”

“I have,” Anna said. And know full well she did, for if it wasn’t her life the selkie wanted, then only one thing would balance the scales against her brother’s insult.

“Lovely and canny. How lucky I am.” The selkie leaned forward, and Anna shivered as her lips brushed against her neck. Her hair smelled of salt and something wild. Anna yelped as teeth sank into her flesh, but in a moment the pain was replaced by a breathless, luscious feeling that rolled from her scalp to her toes and back again. She would have sagged to the ground if the selkie hadn’t held her fast.

“Elsa,” she mumbled to the air, though she knew not why.

The selkie held her tight as she caught her breath. “My mark will let you live in comfort `neath the waves for so long as you bear it,” she whispered into Anna’s ear. “And you read my name from it, just like that! Truly, the moon smiles down on me, to bless me with such a fine wife this day.”

And from the cliffs of Clo Mor, far above, Anna’s brother watched as the selkie led his sister by the hand into the great and endless Sea, until the red of her hair was lost in the churning foam.

#elsanna #submission #April 2021 contest #prompt: break

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pascalls · 3 years

Text

The Persistence of Fate

Summary: Kimera Togo is a vigilante hero operating in the Kansai Region of Japan. After nearly thirty years, the aftermath of the Kamino Incident pulls him back to destiny - back to his former friend and the now-retired Symbol of Peace. Despite his tumultuous origin leading them on diverging paths, he is unable to resist the call to find Toshinori Yagi once again.

This story details the origin of Charlie's BNHA universe origin story and his connection to All Might. It's a bit long, so beware.

Music: Little Pistol - Mother Mother

The sun refused to show its face. In the bleak grayness, it remained hidden behind heavy, foreboding clouds that hovered ominously over the tops of buildings and blanketed the city in darkness before night even fell. The air was thick with humidity, the buzz of insects in the small trees droning absently in the midday. Sun or no, the city had life. Trains rumbled by, causing the ground to vibrate beneath the concrete streets. Cars beeped with indignation and citizens walked by casually, enamored with their own conversations. Never quite paying attention to much beyond themselves and their immediate surroundings.

But who could blame them?

Weeks had passed since the Kamino Incident in Yokohama. Even hours away, in the heart of Kyoto, it was all anyone had spoken of in the days following. Fear had enveloped the city - what would they do without the Symbol of Peace? Without All Might? - and yet life continued as normal. Maybe Yokohama was a little too far away… When was the last time All Might had even shown his face in Kyoto anyway?

The nearest pro-heroes were those at the Fat Gum Agency. Smaller-time heroes drifted in and out of the city here and there… But maybe its disconnection from All Might meant that the fear of the League of Villains had been kept to a minimum… There was no reason for them to come to Kyoto anyway.

...Maybe.

But that didn’t mean that the city was villain-free.

“Fury. We’ve got a report coming in from Minami Ward. There’s been an organized assault near the Katsura River.”

Ears twitching, the crackle of the radio pulled Kimera from his silent reflection. From his position atop one of the city’s temple shrines, the vigilante hero had been keeping an eye on the area. It had been relatively quiet - until now. He’d anticipated emboldened villains to show their faces eventually. Figures, it’d be on one of the gloomiest days of the year thus far.

“Details,” he replied, unmoving from his perch just yet. He’d learned a long time ago to prepare before launching himself into action. A notch in one of his long rabbit-like ears and scars that remained hidden underneath his clothing were stark reminders of the lessons he’d learned in his youth.

“No names are coming up in the database yet, but we’re still pulling. Two villains so far. One power-quirk, one technical quirk. We can provide backup, if needed.”

“Hold for now, but be ready.” Kimera finally shifted his feet, moving from his crouch and hopping across the temple’s slanted roof to the ground below. In the cover of the gloom, he was able to sprint away and out of sight of any curious passerby, his quick steps carrying him in the direction of the Minami Ward. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken on two villains at once. He was confident in his abilities, though it had taken him several decades to get to where he was now. And even then… he would need to be cautious. If he ran into any pro-heroes on the way, he’d need to be quick about absconding before the police were called.

“Four kilometers to the south, Fury. Better be quick.”

“Going as fast as I can!” Kimera snapped, a bit forcefully into the radio receiver. He was quick, but he was no damn bullet train. At least not without unleashing some raw power that would be more detrimental than helpful before he could even face the villains.

Before the voice on the other end of his communicator could crackle in his ear again, the rumbling echo of an explosion rocked the ground beneath his feet as he ran. The shockwave sent a spray of water from the river across the ground, bringing Kimera to a halt as he neared the walkway that bordered the river itself. Villain spotted. People ran in panic away from the water’s edge, shouting and hollering as they went. Kimera paid them no mind.

“Hey… It’s the Night Fury!”

He peered to the side as a fleeing tourist pointed out his presence. He would be hard to ignore in the midst of a villain attack, when he was not doing his utmost to remain unseen. With his shiny black scales and blazing orange hair, Kimera was instantly recognizable. Even if he didn’t have his sidekicks with him.

“Get out of here, will you?!” He snarled at the finger-pointer, sharp teeth and glaring green eyes clearly less-than-pleased; an act which made the tourist recoil and continue his escape away from the riverside. The fewer citizens were in the way, the easier it would be for Kimera to leap into action, aiming for the water where another surge of waves announced the presence of the villain that had caused the commotion to begin with.

From the water, the villain emerged, his body rough and sand-paper like as he roared an aggressive challenge. Rows of serrated teeth lined his mouth, a sharp fin jutting from his back. He was large - easily five stories tall. Kimera assumed this was the power-quirk that his sidekick had spoken of. So where was the technical-quirk user?

His question was answered for him as a figure sprung from the shark villain’s back, hurling down and landing with a sickening slap in front of Kimera, cackling with pleasure as it eyed its apparent competition. Kimera slowed to a stop again - taking in the details of the villain’s flat, rippled head making a foul sucking sound with each of the villain’s inhales.

“Huh,” Kimera began with an unimpressed snuff. “Guess calling you a ‘sucker’ is a bit too obvious, hm?”

The villain hissed at him. “I won’t be insssssulted by a man who issssn’t even a real hero! Where are the actual heroes? They too busy to bother with us?!” The suckerfish villain sounded insulted. As if Kimera’s very presence was an attempt at mockery.

Temper flared, the vigilante hero narrowed his gaze at the other, a low, threatening growl churning its way from his chest and up into his throat.

“Man. You’re really gonna wish the pro-heroes were here,” Kimera replied, bracing his large feet underneath him before using them to surge forward in a burst of vicious and feral speed. A pro-hero would hesitate to kill; held back by the law of the land.

The Night Fury had no such qualms.

=====

His parents were unremarkable when they died. Crushed by the rubble of their own home, his mother and father had likely passed away without much pain. Neither of them had been heroes, foregoing the use of their quirks to take on boring, normal office jobs. Someone has to do it, his father had always said. Especially when money was so short.

He’d grown up in a small hovel-like home in Osaka, his quirks manifesting fairly early in his development. Shiny black scales, not dissimilar to his father’s, dotted his arms and legs, the limbs ending in pointed, thick claws. Long rabbit-like ears sprung from the top of his head and swiveled to and fro, mirroring those of his mother’s. Neither had a tail, but Kimera was blessed with the strong appendage to round off his quirk. His mother had affectionately called him a hodge-podge of animal quirks, and he figured that was fairly true. All he knew is that he had the blazing orange hair that was typical from his father’s family tree and the green eyes that his mother was known for. A hodge-podge of many things.

Togo Kimera had not been allowed to go to school. As soon as he could walk and talk, his mother and father had tasked him with managing their small side business: selling small bundles of flowers which they grew in their free time in the small window boxes that lined their ramshackle home. He knew his parents wanted better… but if they were to keep their home, it was the sacrifice they all had to make. Even now, Kimera found it hard to resent their decision.

He was twelve when an evening was interrupted by chaos and calamity, the Kimera family caught woefully unprepared. Their home was shattered by a rampaging villain, showering them with sharp and heavy debris and burying them like a tomb. His parents had gone swiftly, but Togo had been simply trapped, his limbs snared underneath him and panic gripping his senses until fear left him silent and unconscious.

Kimera emerged from the rubble two days later; thin, dehydrated, and terrified. The pro-heroes had come and gone, leaving him behind. It hadn’t been until he was cornered by a concerned stranger who informed him of the events that he realized that his home - and his parents - were gone for good. Before he could be escorted to the police, the young, fearful boy bolted down the street and into hiding, surviving on water from the Yodo river and stolen food from street vendors where he could find them. He refused to be taken to the police; frustrated with the knowledge that they would simply place him in a strange home with strange people. Or even worse… in a place where there were even more kids with sad stories like his own.

He didn’t want to hear it.

He was fourteen when he decided to leave Osaka, venturing to the north and towards Tokyo. Kimera knew that very few opportunities existed for a homeless teenager in the city… but he was tired of walking in the shadow his parents left behind. Tired of being sad and dejected… tired of simply being. Something beyond the sun called him - and so he went.

Exhaustion stopped him along the way. Lacking a map or any real sense of direction, Kimera found himself lost in the Shizuoka Prefecture, wandering tiredly and almost aimlessly. Man up, he told himself. But that did little to curb his waning energy or fill his belly with a substantial meal. Frustrated and tired, the boy curled up on a bench along the sea-side, the sound of the waves in the dark distance acting as his lullaby.

The sound of voices in the near distance woke him. The sun had barely peered over the edge of the horizon as his eyes fluttered open and he lifted his head, staring down the beach. He was still tired. And still hungry. But he remained where he was for a moment, allowing the sleep to clear from his eyes as figures strolled down the sand in his direction. Ears twitching, he sat himself up and listened.

“You really think the exam’s gonna be that hard? I haven’t studied at all!”

“Of course, stupid! They have to be hard. Otherwise anyone could graduate from U.A. It’s prestigious for a reason!”

Kimera snuffed in realization. They were students. High school students, by the look of them. Uneducated as he was, he wasn’t stupid. He remembered seeing other kids coming to and from school as he stood on the street corners with his baskets of flowers. He’d still learned to read and write, though his parents had been mediocre teachers. But he’d never heard of U.A. Prestigious? What did that mean?

Turning his gaze away as the strange students passed him, he kept watching them as they walked away, ears trained on their conversation. It was morning, wasn’t it…? So they were going to school?

The shaggy-haired boy opted to chase his curiosity, allowed the students to get a significant lead before he hopped off the bench and followed them. He wondered what high school was like, what having friends like these students was like, what having nice clothes and backpacks was like. He was well practiced at staying out of the eye of the general public, having lived on the street for well over two years now. And by the time the students arrived at the gates of the school, Kimera had pulled back a bit, ensuring that he wasn’t seen. There were students milling back and forth, chatting and laughing, sharing stories, and exchanging fake air-punches with one another. Like they were fighting.

Prestigious… Kimera rolled the word around in his brain for a few moments. He’d heard it before. When his mother spent evenings huddled with her tiny television in her room. Prestigious high schools were often established for kids with powerful quirks. To train them to be heroes, she’d said.

Can I be a hero too? He’d asked her one day as he sat next to her alongside the street, flowers nestled in his basket. He remembered that she’d pat him on the head and had said nothing. Thinking back on it… maybe that had been her way of telling him that he was not meant for that life. Thinking even more, he recalled seeing the pro-heroes that had defeated the villain that had destroyed his house. They spoke on the TV about how difficult the villain had been, but that rescue efforts had deemed it to be a low-casualty event.

A churning feeling of bitterness bubbled in his throat before he swallowed it back. It had been the villain’s fault, not the heroes. Still… they had seemed so casual...

“Hey, wanna share this sweet roll I picked up on the way? Don’t think I could eat the whole thing.”

The voice drifted towards him from the throng of students, his attention zeroing in on that sweet roll as his stomach gurgled angrily at him. He hadn’t eaten in a good while - almost two days, in fact. He’d long since learned to curb his hunger when it got bad… But seeing such a delectable treat being held up and brandished so openly…

Without thinking, Kimera abandoned his hiding spot, creeping towards the students which had been lingering behind the others that had already entered the school’s gates. A sudden ravenous urge to eat spurred him forward, stalking them with predator-like intent before the boy lunged.

With a snap of his sharp teeth and a possessive growl, Kimera leapt and snatched the sweet roll from the student that had been offering it to another, causing the boy to cry out in surprise.

“What the hell?!” He said as Kimera landed, sweet roll in mouth, and bolted lightning-fast back to his hiding spot. Part of him knew that he looked less like a boy and more like a greedy street dog, but his stomach didn’t seem to care. He’d gotten away with his prize and, with relish, devoured it once he was certain that the student hadn’t come after him. It was big enough to fill him up for a whole day! And he’d never had anything that sweet or delectable.

When he was full, Kimera allowed the most fiendish idea to cross his mind. If U.A. was full of students like this… coming to and fro… no doubt, their backpacks FULL of other goodies… then possibly…

Yes, he decided. He’d stick around for a while.

---

Kimera took advantage of his quirk - his quick and stealthy movement and keen senses - to keep up his routine thievery. He never took money… only food. To him, that made it less of a crime. It was a stupid distinction to make, but to a lonely, hungry teenage boy, it was all he could do to make sense of his situation.

He had begun to think that he’d get away with his trick in perpetuity, but it was not to be. One day he knew he’d pick the wrong target. And he knew it the instant the student turned on him, using strong arms to put Kimera in a head-lock before the boy could abscond with the boxed lunch he’d been trying to nab.

“Not so fast!” The student said, keeping a strong hold on Kimera as he squirmed and thrashed, trying to escape his captor’s grip.

“Let me GO!” Kimera hissed, dropping the box and scrabbling at the other with his claws. The other boy was much larger than he was, and older too, though not by much. Still, there weren’t many people who could manage to withstand one of the boy’s vicious bites. He resorted to his teeth, latching them in the student’s skin before he was released. Kimera didn’t wait to make a hasty escape, though he didn’t anticipate being chased.

“I just want to TALK!” The student called to him as he ran. Talk?! Why?! Kimera ignored the other boy’s pleas, but he was not an endurance runner. Despite his petty pilfering, he still ate poorly and much less than he should have. His legs hollered at him in their exhaustion until he was certain they would give out. It was only then that Kimera knew his only option was to turn and try and be threatening to scare the other off. It was clear that he could be outrun.

So he swiveled, turning on his heel to face the other in the middle of the small side street. Like a feral animal, he growled, the sharp spines along the back of his neck bristled in alarm and fearful aggression.

“Leave me alone!” Kimera snapped, his tail thrashing from side to side in agitation as the student approached, hands out as though he was trying to be placating. But Kimera knew better… he had grown suspicious in his days alone. Wary of strangers, he didn’t want to talk to anyone.

“I just wanted to apologize,” the other boy said, eventually stopping short of where Kimera stood and maintaining a distance between them. “You’ve been taking everyone’s food these last few weeks and I wanted to figure out why. Everyone’s kind of upset, you know.”

Apologize? Kimera squinted at the boy, his yellow hair framed in the light of the sun behind him. It was too bright out here. Kimera was used to the dark. And it was hard to make out the boy’s features.

“...I was hungry.” He kept his sentences short. He didn’t want to give anything more away than he needed to.

“Are you… a student around here?”

“No.”

“So… where are you from?”

Kimera didn’t understand why this all mattered. And he was still too tired to keep running. So he exhaled in an agitated huff.

“Osaka.”

“What’s your name?”

A bit of the tension in his shoulders released as his body began to decompress with the realization that he was no longer in panic-mode. But he was still skeptical.

“...Kimera,” he answered, his tail curling around him defensively. He almost jumped when the other boy took a few more steps forward and offered his hand cheerfully. It was only then that Kimera could see his face properly, his bright blue eyes and blazing golden hair seeming ethereal in the glow of the sunlight.

“Well Kimera,” the boy said with a grin. “My name is Toshinori.”

Kimera stared at the offered hand, confused by the boy’s invitation to shake it.

“Let me buy you some food!”

---

Scared as he had been, Kimera was not one to turn down food. Toshinori had been generous, reassuring the boy that he would not turn him in for his food stealing and treating him to a relatively large and hearty meal at a local shop that seemed baffled about the state of Kimera’s thin, frail body.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten so much. Not in his whole life. It made him pleasantly sleepy, but he had been unable to escape further probing by the older U.A. student who was curious about where he’d come from and why he was hovering around the school.

“Was just like I told you… I was hungry,” Kimera had said truthfully. He’d been on his own for some time, he’d told Toshinori, though he resented the pity he knew lingered under the surface of Toshinori’s gaze. “I came from Osaka thinking that maybe there was more in Tokyo… maybe I could get a job or something… But I guess I didn’t make it that far.”

Kimera admitted that his family had long-since passed away, left to his own devices after his home was destroyed. Toshinori listened, his eyes somber as he did so.

“Did you not ever think of becoming a hero instead?” Toshinori had asked, clearly confused as to why that had not been presented as an option. But Kimera looked at him skeptically, answering in little more than a scoff.

“Kids like me don’t become heroes. Kids like you do. Going to that fancy school and all. That’s what you go there for, right? I heard some other kids talking about your exams and stuff.”

Toshinori nodded, explaining that U.A. had some of the best and brightest - that it was where all the pro-heroes went before they were great. Most of what he said sailed right over Kimera’s head. He didn’t know how a school could be so special, but then again, he’d never even set foot in one. Their experiences were so different…

“So…” Toshinori began when the day began to turn to night. Kimera had noticed that the boy had seemed to skip some of his classes… But he said nothing about it. Maybe he was old enough to do that. “Do you have somewhere to go? Other places to get food that doesn’t involve maybe… getting heroes in training upset? Someone meaner than me might nab you eventually.” He grinned a little sheepishly, as if apologizing for their earlier wrestling match.

Kimera scratched at one of his long ears, hesitant to admit that he had nothing of the sort.

“I have somewhere to sleep,” he lied. “It’s just food that’s hard to find.” Couldn’t lie about that. Toshinori had already caught him stealing it.

Toshinori seemed to think, silent for a few moments before he smiled again, setting a hand down on the table between them with enthusiasm.

“How about this! You come meet me after school tomorrow. I’ll bring you food if you tell me more about that quirk of yours.”

Kimera blinked. “My quirk…? Why do you wanna know about it?”

“I’m a hero in training. It makes sense to learn as much about different fighting styles to make sure I know how to handle each one. It’ll give me a leg up in my studies - it’s a mutual trade-off! How about it?”

The justification seemed shaky. It was only later that he would realize that this was Toshinori’s way of checking up on the younger boy. And keeping him out of trouble. But Kimera didn’t understand that as he stared at Toshinori’s smile and excited hand gestures.

On the other hand… free food was free food…

“...Alright. But… just make sure no other kids are around. I don’t need them knowing I’m still hanging around,” Kimera eventually agreed. As long as he could stay out of trouble, get a free meal, and be okay with sleeping on a bench or in the train station somewhere, he could manage to show Toshinori a thing or two about his quirk.

If only he’d realized that his hesitant agreement that day would change his life.

---

In the weeks that followed, Kimera realized that the pity that had been in Toshinori’s eyes on the day they’d met had all but vanished. With regular meals, Kimera had been steadily putting on weight, the life in his limbs filling him with energy that he hadn’t felt since he was tiny. He no longer felt inclined to nab food, even if places to sleep were still hard to come by. He had yet to tell Toshinori about his home situation… but part of him didn’t want to. What they had was good. He didn’t need to make it more complex.

As Toshinori learned more about Kimera’s quirk and his abilities, the shaggy-haired boy realized that Toshinori was a wealth of knowledge. About U.A., about quirks, about fighting, and especially about becoming a pro-hero. It was a whole world that he hadn’t known existed. Heroes fighting villains before there were casualties. Heroes running agencies with others who were just as intent on protecting innocent lives before they could be ruined. Powerful heroes and fast heroes and all-encompassing, grand heroes. Toshinori told him story after story, showed him fighting moves and revealed a dense history that Kimera knew he would have never been exposed to in Osaka.

Maybe… just maybe… he could become a hero too.

But he was not like Toshinori - or “Toshi,” as Kimera had begun to call him. (It was an improper nickname, but Kimera was unaware of enough formalities that Toshinori didn’t seem bothered.) Toshi was powerful and strong. He had a body that could send villains flying; fists that could put fear into the hearts of even the most villainous individuals. Conversely… Kimera, though healthier, was still thin and wiry. He was built for speed and stealth… Not for power.

“...Will you teach me how to be stronger?” He asked one day as Toshi sat next to him on the beach, their attention focused on the waves reflecting the sunset in the distance. “Will you teach me how I can use my quirk like you use yours?”

Toshinori grinned at him, enthused by the question. “You wanna become a hero, huh?” Kimera knew it was unlikely… he did not go to a hero school. Or a school at all. And from what Toshi had told him, it was a rough road paved with red tape. But surely, it wouldn’t be impossible… would it? Toshi didn’t seem to think so.

“...Yeah,” Kimera replied with a nod and a look of determination. His parents had missed their chance… Kimera didn’t want to.

Toshinori stood, flexing his muscles and giving Kimera a thumbs up. Even if Toshinori was still learning himself… surely, there was something that he could teach Kimera. And the hybrid boy knew that he would have to take advantage of that while he could. Toshi was graduating soon, he’d said. They’d have to make the most of their time.

“Let’s do it.”

Their training sessions began after Toshi had completed his lessons for the day. They’d meet not far from the school and trek down to the beach park. It was an open space and gave them plenty of room to move about without drawing too much unnecessary attention. Kimera would keep an eye out for strangers. If anyone saw Toshi using his quirk outside of the school, he’d said, he’d get in trouble. And so Kimera had agreed to keep it a secret.

Together, they began to hone their abilities. Weeks turned to months, the two becoming fast friends as they exchanged quick attacks and practiced their defenses. Toshinori grew stronger with each passing day, his punches being delivered with heft and power. Kimera knew that whoever his mentor was must have been teaching him well, even if the other boy came to their sessions looking worn out to begin with. Kimera appreciated that he never missed their time together.

But as Toshinori grew, so did Kimera. His teeth were sharper and claws stronger. His tail was a powerful limb which could deliver a painful whip and slap, and his feet carried him faster and farther with precise leaps. He learned quickly, taking advantage of his speed to dart around Toshinori with confidence and accuracy, diving in for hits where he could get them. He knew Toshi could take whatever he delivered with enthusiasm, even if the both of them left their training sessions with fresh bruises and heavy limbs. Toshinori would always smile. It made Kimera’s heart thump happily to see his smile.

His first friend. His only friend. With Toshi guiding him, he knew that he could handle anything.

Maybe I can become even stronger than Toshi, Kimera thought one day as they cooled off in the evening air after a particularly rough training session. He was delightfully unaware of any limits that Toshi had on his own abilities, but he himself would ensure that he never put too deep of a wound on the other, lest they have to stop their sessions because someone became suspicious. I would need to come up with a move that he wouldn’t expect… something… fast and sharp. He’s quick, but he relies more on his strength than anything… I bet I could catch him off guard. The thought settled in his mind. Tired as he was from their time together, he knew he had enough spare energy - now that he was well fed and growing every day - to put just a little extra time in training alone.

I’ll train while Toshi is in school. Then I’ll really surprise him!

When Toshinori’s classes kept him busy, Kimera kept to himself, working to increase his speed and the strength of his teeth and claws. But it wasn’t until he saw a pro-hero on the streets of Yoshida deliver a devastating slashing attack with his quirk that he realized… he could do the same thing. But with a spin!

A literal spin, as it turned out, was just what Kimera needed. By running at a full-tilt and wild speed, he could get enough momentum to tuck into a vicious roll and spiral towards his opponent like a saw blade, mouth agape and claws spread to get a surprise and lightning fast strike on them. One that was sure to give him an advantage.

He practiced on trees, at first. Glancing blows off of them and throwing himself painfully to the ground or against another tree in the process. Aiming himself once he was in the spin was hard. Aiming after he shattered the bark of the tree and ricocheted off of it was even harder. But his hits were doing damage. And he was impressed with his progress, even if he was struggling with accuracy.

Toshi won’t know what hit him!

Kimera kept the secret move to himself for several days, practicing in between his sessions with Toshinori to ensure that he was able to effectively pull it off without it totally taking himself out for the count.

“I want to show you something I’ve been working on!” He said when he finally felt as though he was ready. Finally, he could show Toshinori that their training had been paying off. He could be better. He could be strong and powerful. Just like Toshi was. And he’d prove that being a hero was possible; even for someone like him.

“Lay it on me!” Toshi prompted once they were positioned on opposite ends of the beach as they usually were. Ready for one or the other to launch an offensive attack from which the other would defend. Then they would continue until night fell and exhaustion settled in their limbs. But not today. Today, Kimera was going to start strong.

“Get ready!”

Kimera got his hind feet underneath him, legs bracing tightly before he sprang forward, rushing at Toshinori like a hungry cheetah in a burst of speed. He could see the grin on Toshi’s face as he ran, pride in his gaze at Kimera’s progress. The two had really grown together. Their hard work would pay off.

At his top speed, Kimera tucked into his roll, spiraling wildly towards Toshinori.

It was far too late before the boy realized in a panic that he was out of control. He hadn’t had time to perfect his aim - nor did he truly know how strong he’d gotten. Before he could tuck his claws to ensure that they didn’t do damage, he felt them snag flesh and pull, making contact with Toshinori’s last-second attempt at defending himself. The spinning blade that was Kimera had caught Toshi’s arm, collar-bone, and shoulder, tearing viciously at the skin and showering the sand beneath their feet with blood.

Kimera bounced off of Toshinori and soared into the water, hitting the surface with a loud and painful slap as he slowed and sank beneath the waves. His limbs screamed in pain with the impact, unable to move for a few moments before he could muster up enough effort to get himself above the water where he coughed and sputtered. On the shore, he saw Toshinori rooted to the spot, unmoving, until he toppled over and onto the sand.

“Toshinori!” Kimera cried out, gagging as water flooded into his mouth. Panicked, he struggled to make his way back to shore, finally reaching the shallows where he hacked up another mouthful of water before staggering to where Toshinori lay on the ground, clearly unconscious.

Is he… Is he dead?!

Heart pounding in his chest, Kimera felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. The blood he’d torn from Toshinori was absolutely coating the sand around him, the jagged and torn gashes in his flesh exposing muscle and bone where Kimera’s claws had raked them.

“Toshi! Toshinori!” He called, reaching to shake the older boy with vigor to try and get him to come around. But with each movement, Toshinori lost more blood. Moving him would do no good.

From somewhere nearby, he heard a voice, his ear swiveling to catch the words.

“I saw it!” The voice cried. “That boy attacked the other one!”

Wait… Wait, wait… no!

“N-no, I-! I didn’t…!” Kimera yelled back, rising to his feet and looking around in alarm. The voice of the stranger who had pointed him out was not the only one that was ringing in his peripheral. Now more and more strangers were approaching, brought around by the commotion of his and Toshinori’s collision, the sounds of horror at the sight of Toshinori’s unconscious body echoing in Kimera’s ears.

“Somebody call the police!” One voice said. “It’s a villain attack!” Hollered another.

Kimera’s voice was drowned out as he heard the sounds of sirens in the distance. They’d come for him! The people really thought that Toshi had been attacked!

Tears ran down Kimera’s face as he glanced at Toshinori. He wasn’t dead… He was alive. They would… they would help him. They would get him somewhere safe. But would they listen to a raggedy hybrid of a boy when he claimed that he had done nothing wrong?

No, he decided. They wouldn’t. Not with all that damage. Not with all that blood. Not when he hadn’t been smart or strong enough to control himself. Not when he had been unable to make Toshinori proud like he wanted to.

“I’m so sorry, Toshi!” Kimera sobbed. But he had no more time. With one last look at his friend’s unconscious form, the boy ran. Before the police could track and follow him. Before the heroes came after him like he was a villain.

Maybe I am, he thought as he ran.

As he disappeared down the beach and into hiding, he knew that it was the last time he’d be able to face Toshinori Yagi.

---

Toshinori recovered, though he remembered very little about what had happened. He was chastised by his mentor for sparring outside of the school grounds, harangued by the police about the identity of the mysterious chimera boy who had injured him, and questioned by his friends about the events of that day.

When he was able to, Toshinori had returned to the beach, hoping to meet Kimera - hoping to meet his friend. And yet, Kimera Togo was nowhere to be found. Even as Toshinori returned for several evenings after he’d recovered. Hoping. Waiting. Kimera did not appear.

Toshinori stopped appearing as his graduation from U.A. ventured closer. And once he was able to do so, he set off for America, and returned as “All Might”. The up and coming pro-hero. The powerful, unstoppable “Symbol of Peace.”

From the streets of the Kansai region where Kimera returned, the boy watching Toshinori… “All Might’s” rise to fame. He’d cut his hair as soon as he could, lest he be recognized as the boy who’d attacked the fledgling hero. His limbs had grown strong, though he was still thin and sleek, much more accustomed to speed than strength. But his power was nothing to sneeze at either.

In Toshinori’s absence, Kimera had come to the realization that he could never be a pro-hero. His upbringing was far too tumultuous, and with his lack of education and the fact that he’d simply left Toshinori there to bleed…

He didn’t deserve the title.

But his power was wasted, if he couldn’t help people. So he admitted that he could do that, at the very least. He didn’t need to be licensed or registered or whatever the hell else pro-heroes needed to prove that they were “allowed” to do good. He could still help others. He could still make amends for what he’d done.

The life of a vigilante was not an easy one. But it was a life. He made enough money under the table to get by, amassing a small number of others who shared his ideals. None of them shone as bright as Toshinori had. None of them could match his enthusiasm or his smile. But he could still call them friends, after enough time had passed. It was easy to attract quirkless others who felt that they were not empowered - not prepared or able to make a difference in a world full of evil villains. Not when pro-heroes existed.

“You can,” Kimera told them when he met them. When he was certain where their hearts lay. “You can make a difference. All you have to do is commit to it.”

With his small following of quirkless sidekicks, he would train them. To recognize danger and respond to it; to alert him of citizens in need of help. To use their own talents, gadgets, and abilities to help protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

His alias came naturally. Working in the cover of night, Kimera often attacked villains without warning and without caution. His vicious, aggressive fighting style was to be feared, as his sidekicks often said. He didn’t bother capturing villains if he found them to be too dangerous. He’d long since abandoned his desire to obey the bureaucracy.

By the time he was forty, the Night Fury had a body count. He was not proud of it. But it was what had to be done. Sometimes, he ruled, villains could not be allowed to live.

Still… he longed for the days of his naivety. When he sparred with Toshinori and they dreamed of bigger things. When he could lose himself in the light of Toshinori’s eyes and know that the world would be safe if he was in it. Watching All Might on the TV… he knew that the man’s macho persona was not his true self. Handsome as he was, Kimera remembered him so differently…

Their paths had diverged, and yet whenever he caught a glimpse of Toshinori in the limelight, he couldn’t help but wonder…

Would I have made you proud?

===

During the Kamino incident, Kimera had fought the inner part of himself that screamed and railed against what he was seeing on the TV. He’d stopped, like the whole country had, to watch All Might put an end to the heinous villain that had decimated the ward and taken so many lives along with him. The League of Villains was in everyone’s mouths… The battle seemed impossible.

But when the world hollered and cheered for All Might as he raised his fist in the air and announced his victory, Kimera could only watch in horror. Toshinori had given his all… he was so damaged. So frail. After decades of his belief that nothing could shatter the man’s ability to persist… something had.

His heart lurched moment after moment, until the crowd had dispersed and Kimera was left to stare at replayed highlights of the battle over and over again.

Toshinori… He thought, fighting tears. I should have been there. I should have been able to be by your side. I should have… I should have…

But he couldn’t turn back the passage of time. And in the following weeks, the only thing he’d been able to think about was Toshinori. Where was he? Was he okay? Was he recovering? How could he carry on, knowing that he was unable to fight? Did he… have a family now?

Does he even remember me?

The thoughts plagued him like a hive of angry bees. It had been decades. Surely, Toshinori… All Might… wouldn’t have thought twice about Kimera in years.

But even as he lurched himself at the villain that had taken over the Katsura River, Toshinori lingered in the back of his mind.

I need to see him.

If there were a record for the fastest time he’d ever taken down a villain, it would be then, when the realization that the aching in his chest wouldn’t subside until he saw Toshinori in the flesh hit him like a ton of bricks. He savagely slashed at the suckerfish villain, rendering him immobile and knocking him unconscious with a swift rabbit-kick to the head. Gripping the suckerfish by his arm, Kimera threw him back at the shark villain that waited in the water, the two colliding painfully. Kimera wasted no time in following up, launching himself in the air towards the water with a burst of speed.

He tucked into his roll - his ultimate move which he’d perfected since its devastating use on Toshinori - and tore through the air, slicing through the shark villain’s gills and sprayed the water with blood as it collapsed into the torrent of waves. He probably wasn’t dead. But he would be out for the count, at least, until the police or pro-heroes could come and mop him up and out of the river.

Kimera, riding the ricochet of his contact with the villain, landed squarely on dry land, satisfied with his work. Those two would likely not return. And he had to get going if he wanted to get to U.A. by morning.

“Harada,” Kimera said into his communicator, listening as the crackle of the line announced that his sidekick had been listening.

“Go ahead.”

“I’m going to Yokohama. I want to figure out what went on in Kamino.”

“Now?! It’s a bit late for investigating.”

“I just have to see it for myself. Can you handle things in the meantime?”

There was a sigh. And then a response.

“Fine. Be careful.”

With that ‘blessing’, Kimera took off. He didn’t need to go as far as Yokohama. But he didn’t need his sidekicks to know what he was really doing either.

If I can just see Toshinori… That’s all I need.

---

They hadn’t lied when they’d said that U.A.’s security had been enhanced. As Kimera hovered nearby, he realized that if he’d tried to steal student snacks now, he’d certainly never get away with it. Absently, he wondered about the students within. From what he knew, they had been through so much…

He was older now, grizzled and aged, but no less strong. As he eyed the walkway that lead up to the gates, he pictured himself and Toshinori; being caught in a headlock as he tried to make off with a stolen lunch. The image in his head almost made him laugh. God… it had been so long.

He’d be a fool now to try and get anywhere near the school, so he kept his distance. He knew Toshinori was a teacher now. So he would have to be around eventually… But for now, he made his way towards the same beach while night had yet to become morning. Where he and Toshinori had often trained.

Where he’d… left Toshi’s bleeding body.

Kimera closed his eyes and tried to shake the memory from his mind. No, he didn’t need to remember that. He could focus on the good things. On the laughing and the friendly conversation. On the shared meals and the evenings spend with one another.

Of Toshinori’s smile…

“...Woah! You’re the Night Fury! Kimera Togo!”

Alarm shot through him as the young voice sounded over his shoulder. Kimera whirled around, teeth bared and scales bristling as he waited to be assaulted, but he was met instead by the face of a young boy. His messy, unkempt hair matched his gaze of wonder as he stared Kimera down. And had it not been for the bandages wrapped around his arms, Kimera might not have recognized him.

Izuku Midoriya. The boy from the sports festival… He thought. A U.A. student. He’d been there during the incident at Kamino too. Saving his classmate. And now he was… here. On the beach. Staring at him as though he’d grown two heads.

“...Keep your voice down, kid!” Kimera hissed when he realized he’d just been identified. It was still night, so he didn’t anticipate others being too close by… But he’d been wrong before. “Shouldn’t you be in bed or something?”

“Well… I was… meeting someone… But shouldn’t you be in Kyoto?” Midoriya asked, confused.

“I’m on an extended visit. Don’t worry about it.” Kimera didn’t need the third degree from a kid, no matter how freaky strong he was. “Why are you meeting someone in the dead of night??”

“Uh! Well! It’s…! A long story, actually! I was... Um!” The boy began to sputter, waving his arms around in a bit of a panic. Kimera stared at him dully. Kids.

“...Kimera…?”

Another voice startled him, making his ears twitch in instinctive delight. He knew this voice… As if it was acting of its own volition, he felt his heart begin to race, his limbs shaking as he turned to face who he knew was standing there. Staring at him.

Toshinori.

“Kimera… is it really you?”

All Might’s gaze was locked onto Kimera, taken aback and disbelieving. Kimera could only stare back, his own hard green eyes meeting the other man’s stark and bright blue. Even with all of the damage he’d taken… even though his body had been destroyed beyond reason… those eyes…

They hadn’t changed.

He was finding it very hard to breathe, his attention entirely taken from the young Midoriya and locked onto Toshinori’s gaze.

“...Yeah,” he finally managed to get out, his voice trembling.

“It’s me.”

#tj writes #boku no hero academia #oc #bnha sona #I am definitely going to write more of this universe because IT WILL BE GAYER

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sunflowersseemhappy · 4 years

Text

“You’re worth every second of my time.” Julian X Gender Neutral MC (fluff)

I really needed some fluff, and damn I kinda wish someone would hold me like I imagine Julian would.

It was a few minutes past midnight when you awoke to a mysterious plinking sound coming from your window, when it first woke you, you ignored it. Shifting in your sleep and going to pull your blankets above your head, only to realise you were not in bed but rather propped in your favourite chair. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but it seemed to have just happened. Clearly that novel you had set you heart on finishing had evaded your intentions, it sat flat on the floor now. The plinking came again and this time you couldn’t bear to ignore it any longer, even if you crawled back to bed it would probably plague your sleep.

Searching the dark room, you couldn’t quite tell what the immediate source of the sound was, but as you scoured the room glancing from bookshelf to nightstand to bed you began wondering if the source was located somewhere else. Then something hit you in the back of the head.

“Ow!” Wincing you turn around, as a pebble drops to the floor. The stinging pain not quite gone you pick it up and examine the stone, wondering where it could have come from. “What in the world?”

“Pssst-” Glancing around you eye the room, perhaps you were just imaging things. Then the ‘pssst’ comes again, drawing your gaze to notice the window propped open. You had barely noticed the cool night air spilling into the room, its grip enveloping you like water. This time you see as well as hear the source of the sound as a pebble glances off the glass and falls away, another moment and another pebble hits the window with a resounding ‘plink’. Sighing almost in relief you make your way over to the window and look out onto the street.

“Julian?” You can barely make him out in the darkness, but he stands just close enough to a streetlamp that you can make out his outline. He’s swaying on his feet and seems to be readying himself to hurl another stone at the glass pane. Not wanting him to break something you quickly slide the window open further, leaning out and hissing in a quiet voice. “Julian, what are you doing?”

“Oh, hey Y/N,” Julian snaps to attention casually dropping a pebble from his hand as he peers up at you. A glazed expression on his face as he tilts his head up at you. “Why are you so small?” Confused you look at yourself and back to him. As you look at him for a long moment you can see the ruffled appearance of his clothes and hair, he seems to be missing a glove and his cloak from his usual attire. Which usually only meant one thing.

“Are you drunk?”

“No…” Julian leant back on his heels before, stumbling forward to counterbalance. He could make out the unconvinced look on your face and fumbled to correct himself. “Maybe a little. I wanted to see you, but you weren’t answering the door.”

“I was asleep,” you stated drawing back to look at your bed and the comfy blankets that awaited you, you look back to Julian as he scuffs his feet on the ground. “I thought I gave you a key…”

“I seem to have misplaced it,” you groan and wonder what he’s even doing out this late, Mazelinka’s house was much closer to the Rowdy Raven than the shop was. Pitifully sighing as if you had given him an order, you gape as Julian begins shuffling off. “I’ll go,” taking himself toward the street that definitely didn’t lead to Mazelinka’s house, you snap out of your confusion, almost yelling as you utter a hushed command for him to wait. Shaking your head as you rush down the stairs to the side door. Cracking it open you take a step back as Julian enters looking around like a little kid. Gasping a little as you look at his face.

“Julian what happened to you?” He looks shocked as you cup his face in your hands, examining the large bruise over his visible eye. On his lower lip sits a small cut that also gains your attention as you glance over his face. “Your eye and your lip… Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” Running a thumb over his lip you apologise as he hisses in pain, his hand grabbing your own. You stare into each other’s eyes for a moment before you bite your lip and lean closer.

“Let me heal you-” You begin to summon magic to your fingers before Julian stops you, pulling away your hand from his face. He holds you firm as he looks into your eyes.

“They were insulting you,” Julian says, softly sweeping his eye down. “I couldn’t let them do that. Cowards.” The last word he practically spat out, frowning only to wince at the pain it brought to his blackened eye. You stay quiet for a moment before shaking your head ruefully and guiding him up the stairs to your bedroom. Sitting him down on the bed you pat his hand and go to close the window as Julian sits, staring at his feet.

“They don’t even know you, not like I do.” Taking a seat next to Julian you lean against his shoulder and let out a long heavy sigh, rolling the hem of your shirt in between your fingers. Whatever they had said got him worked up, you could feel the tenseness of Julian’s body. Working your hands along his arm closest to you, you smooth out soft circles summoning a soothing aura and letting it roll over the two of you.

“I don’t care what people think of me Julian. They’re not worth a second of my time, but you’re worth every second of my time. That’s all that matters.” Julian’s eye searches your face, slowly you lift a hand to his face and take off the eye patch concealing his eye with the red sclera. Placing the eye patch to the side you stroke a finger over his cheek and down to his chin, pulling him close for a kiss.

Closing his eyes and placing his lips against yours Julian winces at the burning sensation that cuts across his split lip, moaning all the same as you press against him. His mind floating as if on a lazy river he mumbles against your lips and gazes foolishly down at you.

“Y/N you are perfect,” Julian wraps his arms around you to pull you up onto the bed, laying you against his chest as the two of you rest in each other’s arms. Gazing at you Julian leans his head back against the pillows blinking his grey eyes sleepily. Laying against his chest you can’t help but smile and rest your head in the crook of his neck, the two of you breathing each other in. Despite being drunk Julian smells pleasantly like sea salt, and you close your eyes listening to the beating of his heart.

“You’re such a flatterer,” giggling you pull back slightly as Julian’s face rises to meet yours, kissing along your nose and then to your lips once more, whispering praises against your skin. You watch as his eyes flutter closed, and he lets out a heavy sigh.

“It’s not flattery when it’s the truth my love.” You watch as his face melds into a picture of serenity as he drifts off to sleep, placing a kiss to his cheek you gently stroke his face and close your own eyes. Shaking your head and laughing to yourself

“How are you this smooth when you’re drunk?”

#the arcana #julian #julian x reader #mc #story prompt #apprentice #asra #portia #lucio #nadia #muriel #story #fluff

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alwaysfoolsparsley · 4 years

Text

The Decision

(For the theme “Beginnings”; 1,232 words; no warnings; some indirect book allusions but no spoilers; x posted to AO3 here)

---------

What if destiny gave you a choice? If you were shown the outcome - however long and torrid and twisting - of a fateful decision. If you could watch one choice as it spills out into eternity. What if you saw - if you felt - all the pain and the heartache that would follow. What if fate showed this to you, and asked you to choose? Would you make the same decision, or save yourself the pain and walk away?

Geralt's head was swimming, his body burning all over, bile churning in his belly threatening to come out. He opened his eyes, but everything was black. He struggled to stand, but he couldn't find the floor. He pressed against nothingness; he was in nothingness; suspended outside of space and time.

"Don't be afraid," a voice said from behind him. He turned towards the voice, already knowing who he would see: the sorceress, Yennefer of Vengerberg. Shining white stars appeared in the blackness around them as if called into existence by her presence. Such was her power, even the stars were attracted to her and would come out to illuminate her.

He remembered now - her skin, glowing gold in the afternoon light, warm beneath his fingertips; her eyes, milky purple like summer violets, sparkling up at him, drawing him in; her lips, soft and wet with lipstick; that scent, lilac and gooseberries. The last thing he remembered was the house in Rinde and being put under her spell.

"You're unconscious," she said, calmly. She had moved closer to him, though he had not seen her walk. She appeared directly in front of him now, looking up at him with those violet eyes. He found himself transfixed by her, as he had when he had first seen her just hours before. Something about her drew him in: like a sailor to a siren; a moth to an open flame. "You're about to wake," Yennefer explained, "and shortly thereafter you're going to make a decision. Do you see it?"

"Yes," he said. He could see it, somehow. He saw her calling on the djinn, saw its power, saw her fate. He felt himself make the wish, the words tumbling over his lips, binding their fates together. A rash and reckless wish perhaps, for a sorceress he barely knew, but in that moment, he saw her, knew her, and he could not pull away; he could only pull himself deeper towards her.

He saw and felt all this in an instant - thought he also knew none of it had yet happened. Strange, he thought, he had never seen the future before. Though it did not scare him.

"I want to give you a choice," Yennefer said, awakening him from his vision. "You should have the opportunity to make a different decision."

Geralt looked down at her and saw there were tears in the corners of her eyes, sparkling like precious diamonds she was about to discard. Instinctively he pulled her to him, holding her firmly with one hand against the small of her back. He held his other hand to her face, his rough palm against her soft cheek, his fingertips just brushing against a few stray locks of her long black hair. It felt entirely natural to hold her in his arms - as if she had always belonged there, and had returned there many times - though he had never held her before.

"No," he said, firmly, feeling the words with utter certainty. "I can't make a different decision. There is no other decision to make."

Yennefer looked away, hiding her face against his palm. He felt her wet tears falling on his fingers. "That's not true," she said. "You don't have to make the wish. You can choose to walk away. To save yourself - perhaps save us both. Just look, look at what happens to us. All the pain we will cause. I want you to know what will happen before you choose."

He could see it all now, somehow: their entire lives stretching out in front of him, like a river of time, spiraling into the night sky. He saw the wish, saw her dark curls across a red velvet pillow, he saw his hands on her arms, felt her lips against his neck; he saw the two of them come together and ricochet apart - the force that pulled them together equally pushing them away from each other; he saw them make love a hundred, no, a thousand times: at the peak of the tallest of the Kestrel Mountains, in a valley of wild flowers in Adern, in the heart of a pine forest, by a crackling fire, on a balcony overlooking a busy city, and - by magic - far beneath the surface of a deep blue lake; he saw anger in her dark purple eyes; he saw her hurl insults and jars of preserves at him; he felt his muscles tense with rage; he felt the burning bile of fear and distrust in his stomach; he felt a shard of ice; he saw a kestrel soaring across the night sky; he smelt fire; saw the glint of steel; the deep red of spilled blood; he saw himself alone on the Path, long and endless, cold at night, with a lone star above to guide him; he saw Ciri, his daughter, wrapped in her arms as she protected them both from darkness closing around them; he felt the warmth of her skin against his; he felt her hand, holding his, slip from his grasp; he saw her eyes, deep and endless and intoxicating, staring back at his with a kind of love he didn't believe he could ever deserve, and he couldn't look away.

He saw all of this and held her close. "I can't make a different decision," he said.

"You can," she insisted.

"Fine then, I won't." he said. "How could you think that in showing me all this, I would change my mind? What, to avoid the pain? That would mean sacrificing all the rest along with it. Without sorrow, there is no joy. You are my sorrow, you are my joy. My pleasure and my pain. I will have it all."

She laughed, wiping the tears away from her eyes with her slender fingers. "You really are a fool."

"Yen, how are you doing this?" he asked. He knew her power was great, but whatever this magic was, it was beyond even her capabilities. "Is this really you?"

"Hush now," she whispered. "It doesn't matter, does it? Soon you will wake, and not remember any of this. But you will make the same decision - I gave you the choice, but if you're sure that's what you want, you will make it again."

"Then let me wake," he said. He held both of her hands in his and gently kissed her fingertips. "So I can see you again, now that I know what will become of us."

He felt his eyes closing, his body becoming limp, the world around him swirling away like smoke, and her fingers slipping from his grasp. His thoughts faded too, his memories, his premonitions, until all that that remained was... her; the feeling of her; the touch of her skin; the sparkle of her eyes; her soft lips; and that scent. That, he remembered, he felt, with the core of his being, and after that, there was nothing to decide.

#stuffedunicorns #geralt x yennefer #witcher #geralt #yennefer #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #yenralt week 2020 #witcher fanfiction #witcher fic #the witcher #fanfiction #fate #destiny #free will #does any of that matter #so angsty because I love Geralt and Yen so much but they make me so sad #yes I write angst as well as dumb jokes

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intriga-hounds · 4 years

Text

week 7

you had to write the same scene from 5 POVs. le guin also advised using “little to no dialogue” in order to avoid muddying the narrative voice.

this was LONG. we decided to write it as homework. i wrote the first 4 in one sitting, very quickly. i dreaded the last one all week and finally sat down to write it. it took an hour. a lot of it was bc i couldn’t remember what bug explodes as a defense mechanism and spent some time on google. anyway involved narrator is...a lot.

it’s more misanthra, but idk if i’ll keep writing her for this club or not.

Part 1

A: Limited Third, Misanthra

The pain was incredible, but Misanthra had expected that. She was just pleased she had had both the time and the guts to shove the knife in twice before Ridian had found her.

The servants were carrying her to bed, somehow both carefully and hastily, and the movement just made it all hurt more. Misanthra could feel the hot blood on her shirt, on her stomach, pooling, dripping, thick and slick. Her hands, folded together over one of her wounds, trembled. Part adrenaline, part agony, part excitement.

Her mother, hysterical, hurled orders and accusations, but Misanthra was beyond hearing the individual words. The terror in her mother’s voice alone was music to her, a song she would replay in her mind over and over until the day she died.

On the bed now, Misanthra let her body sink and grow heavy. Two servants each took a cloth and pressed it hard against the deep wounds in Misanthra’s abdomen, trying to staunch the bleeding. Misanthra knew they would save her, but they would not save the life-giving parts of her that her mother sought so desperately to protect and control.

Misanthra listened to her mother yowl like a wounded dog, and she felt exultant tears seep down her face. She closed her eyes and let out a single, clipped laugh. The giddiness and pain within her made her body shudder.

I’m free, I’m free, I’m free.

B: Limited Third, Morgana

Lady Morgana Sisero watched in horror and awe as her daughter was carried bleeding to her bed. Misanthra was stubborn, she knew. She always had been, and always would be. But even Morgana had not expected her to go this far--to endanger her own life to keep marriage at bay, or else take it off the table entirely.

Morgana knew she had screamed every insult she could think of, but she wondered if Misanthra was listening. She was never listening.

Morgana had already ordered one servant to run for a doctor, but she sent a second, younger one now for good measure. Then she commanded two more to stop the bleeding, to save her daughter, to save the granddaughters she still might have in the years to come if only Misanthra would remain intact.

We’re dying out, don’t you realize that? Don’t you realize how selfish you are?

Finally pausing in her shouting, Morgana realized she was trembling. She placed a hand over her mouth, hot tears flowing over her knuckles in rapid succession. Who would there be, when she was finally gone? The flowers that had earned their family worldwide fame would wilt and vanish from the world forever, as would the Sisero name and the Calibos altogether. A race of people, vanished off the face of the planet, because of a girl who would not marry.

From across the room, Morgana heard Misanthra choke--or was it laughter? Morgana drew closer to the bed and saw the deranged smile on her daughter’s face. Without thinking, she slapped her.

Ugly girl.

Part 2: Detached Narrator

Sometime late in the evening, Misanthra Sisero hid away in the garden and stabbed herself twice with a kitchen knife. One of the Siseros’ servants, who was called Ridian, found her hunched among the fire lilies with the bloodied knife discarded beside her. He ran back to the house for help, then followed as two other servants carried Misanthra inside.

Lady Sisero was notified, and she came up immediately from her office just in time to watch as Misanthra was carried into her bedroom. She asked who had found her, and when Ridian told her it was him, she grew angry. After insulting him, she turned and insulted her daughter, calling her every ugly name she could think of.

Misanthra, now lowered onto her bed, just bled and laughed, even after her mother slapped her.

Part 3:

Observer-Narrator: Ridi, a servant

I had never seen anyone do anything like this, not ever. My father committed suicide when I was five years old, but I didn’t actually witness it, and in all honesty, I never understood it.

Watching Lady Misanthra being carried up to her bedroom felt like being out of my own body. Why would a person hurt themselves like that? Sure, Misanthra had always been wild, had always been unpredictable and headstrong, but to stab herself twice? It was clear now that she had not intended to die, or she would have gone for her heart. I did not know which moral argument mother and daughter were in the middle of--there were so many--but it seemed to me that Misanthra had won.

Lady Sisero appeared in a rush and demanded to know who had found her daughter. When I told her, she told me that I was a stupid boy (not a new insult) and then went after her daughter in a tirade of far uglier language. I still had little clarity on the situation until the moment Lady Misanthra was lowered onto her bed and Lady Sisero called her “selfish.”

“You’ve ruined us,” she went on.

That illuminated everything. The moral argument that I had wondered about was about marriage. More than that, it was about progeny. It was about the Calibos.

As I watched Lady Misanthra bleed, I wondered what would have happened if I hadn’t found her. Would she have died, and would Lady Sisero’s reaction have been the same? Shouting, insulting, mourning the loss of a legacy? I was sure that she would not have shed a tear for Lady Misanthra herself, only for the womb that had been spoiled.

I looked from Lady Misanthra’s wounds to her face. Did she regret what she had done? It seemed she hadn’t, for she was smiling. She laughed, and that was apparently the last straw. Lady Sisero marched to the bed and slapped her hard, making the rest of us all flinch, but Lady Misanthra just kept laughing and laughing, with blood on her teeth.

Part 4: Involved Author

Ridi had gone outside to smoke and was sitting on the wrought iron bench outside the back door when he sensed that he was not alone. It was not unusual for the groundskeepers to still be out at this hour, but they weren’t usually in the formal gardens that sprawled behind the house; they were below in the flower fields, or in the greenhouses, giving one last misting or watering to the temperamental exotic flowers that the Sisero family was known for.

It was the sound of crunching gravel that first caught his attention. A rabbit or ground squirrel, maybe. But then he heard a breath, too human, and the rustle of fabric. Thinking two of the younger servants must be stealing away behind the fire lilies for a quick, ecstatic dalliance, he marched over to sully the mood. Instead, he rounded the first line of lilies to find himself standing over Lady Sisero’s daughter, Misanthra, bleeding on the gravel, with a bloody kitchen knife discarded beside her.

The wounds were, evidently, self-inflicted, but Ridi did not yet know their purpose. Thinking at first that she had meant to kill herself, and also thinking her quite close to completion, he rushed at once to the house, shouting (quite hysterically, Misanthra thought) for help.

However, Misanthra’s life had not been in any great danger that night. Under the guise of curiosity and intending to furthering her education, Misanthra had grilled her cousin, Tetrophos, on the form, function, and precise locations of every womanly cog needed to form human life. This had been some weeks ago, when he had been visiting from Clova. He was a doctor now and, always pleased to make proof that his lengthy education had been worth the cost, he had explained everything with enough depth to satisfy a surgeon.

Misanthra, thus, had taken his advice, though not in the way he had hoped. Rather than following in his footsteps to a profession in medicine, she had used this interview to remove from herself the very talent she wished her own mother had never been given: the ability to host a child.

There were numerous reasons Misanthra did it, but a scorn for children was not one of them. In fact, she quite liked children, and if anyone had asked her if she wanted to be a mother, she would have answered in the affirmative. Unfortunately, no one had asked her if she wanted to be a wife--and more than that, a wife to a husband--and this violence against her own body was the best she could do without killing whatever little lord her mother might cook up for her. Misanthra was many things, but she was not the kind of person to marry a man, use him to further her bloodline, and then poison him at the dinner table. That was more her mother’s fancy, and considering Misanthra didn’t appreciate her own existence within the confines of the Sisero Estate, she wasn’t about to subject another child to it.

Help came quickly. The servants, frightened of what would happen to them if the young Lady wasn’t saved, carried her up to her bedroom while someone else went to fetch Lady Sisero and the resident doctor. Ridi followed along as if in a stupor. At some point, he had dropped his cigarette, but he wasn’t sure when it had happened.

At this very moment, Lady Sisero was in her study signing a letter to the Kallista family, who had a son in want of a wife. It was a good match; they were pure Calibos, not a speck of unclean blood, with a successful fishing operation in Astrapahl. Their son was young and inexperienced, and he had the personality of a river stone, but he was pureblooded and wealthy and what else really mattered anyway? Misanthra would produce satisfactory children, and the Calibos would survive.

When a servant burst into the room to give the Lady the news, she learned that these months of politics, dinners, and favors had been squandered. She got up immediately.

Lady Sisero arrived on the scene just as Misanthra was lowered into her bed. There was a wrath inside her she had not unleashed in decades. After spitting every insult she could think of, both at Misanthra and at the surrounding servants, she felt not unlike the soft, tender sea cucumber, turning inside out, viscera and acid her final lines of defense against this predator, this agitator that had pushed her to the brink.

To Misanthra, it was more the opposite. Lady Sisero, to her, was the leathery, warty toad that had so smugly just consumed the bombardier beetle--crafty little creature about to detonate in its belly and free itself through the back door.

“Free” is exactly what Misanthra was. She was free from expectations, free from her mother, free from marriage--free even from the Sisero name. She was nothing now, a husk, useless save for her own limited personal potential. Though she was in incredible agony, it was negligible compared to the feeling of emancipation, of manumission, of adrenaline flooding her brain.

The feeling of it all, the sheer ecstasy, was enough to make her laugh, and that singular moment felt like a welcome eternity before her mother’s sharp slap hit her cheek.

That slap was only a match head to the igniter, the last scrape to be endured before it all went up in flames. Misanthra laughed harder, madder, louder.

Below the house, Ridi’s glowing cigarette rolled with the breeze and landed at the base of a fire lily stem. The ensuing flames, Ridi thought many years later, were as symbolic as they were real.

#writing #if u actually read the whole thing: bless u #but holy damn do u have some stamina

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serenumhq · 4 years

Text

COME OUT FOR LONDON PRIDE

‘London Pride, a time of celebration. The heart of the city is closed to traffic, becoming a safe space, a welcoming environment, where people can support each other and truly celebrate who they are. For many years now, Wizarding society has been carefully integrating with large Muggle celebrations. Parades, protests, marches, live performances in Trafalgar Square, have all proven difficult to ignore when the magical community essentially lives on their doorstep. It’s entirely accepted now, and as a member of said community, nobody would question your willingness to attend. Even Purebloods are often able to make an appearance without being scrutinised although it is no secret many families still feel as though it is beneath them. The Parade begins at 12 pm, and is expected to last until 5 pm. Hundreds of floats are making their way through the winding roads and familiar buildings, each celebrating a sexuality, a gender identity, a charity, a brand... Of course, the music, the effects, and so many of the brand names will be entirely unfamiliar to our witches and wizards, but that doesn’t make the view any less enjoyable or exciting. In Trafalgar Square, a large stage has been erected, a few stalls offering rainbow facepaint, glitter lipstick, and Pride flags. Alcohol is flowing freely and various performers are entertaining the crowd. The bars and pubs of Soho have come to life, flags and banners in every window, music pounding as you walk by, offers on drinks, and rainbow coloured foods are advertised as businesses do everything within their power to draw people in. Gringotts has frozen the Galleon to Pound exchange rate, as they always do when they know wizards will be attending a popular Muggle event, and the Ministry has issued its usual warning, reminding the population of the Statue of Secrecy. With the ‘no magic’ rule in mind, your muse is free to enjoy any part of the celebration, and be proud of what makes them them.’

INFORMATION:

The event has OFFICIALLY BEGUN and will come to a close on the 28th of June at 9 PM GMT. After this time, we ask you do not post any further event starters, though you are more than welcome to continue threads taking place during the event. That being said, if you would rather drop them and your writing partner consents, there is no pressure to finish them. The choice is entirely yours. EVENT TAG: #serenum:pride There are three main locations to this event. You are free to have your muse wander between them, and because the parade route travels throughout Central London, your muse does not technically need to stay within the bounds of these three parts.

Trafalgar Square: There is a large stage and a very big crowd. The square is lined with stalls, feel free to invent stalls for your muse to visit, we trust you all to know the kind of stalls that appear during Pride events but a quick Google search should help you out. They can sell food, merch, alcohol, or offer things such as makeovers, and facepaint designs. The crowd is incredibly large and penned in so this might not be the most comfortable place for anybody with claustrophobia or relating issues. There is a small queue to get into the square, but people are free to come and go as they please.

The Parade: The parade begins on Portland Place at 12 pm, moving down Oxford Circus, along Regent Street to Piccadilly Circus, Lower Regent Street, the Pall Mall, passing Trafalgar Square before finishing on Whitehall. Barriers line the street and large crowds have gathered but as always towards the back of the crowd you can avoid being caged in by people and still get a decent view of the parade. This is a perfect place for almost anyone to be. Just down the road and across Golden Jubilee Bridge, you will find the London Southbank with gorgeous views of the River Thames, and the London Eye situated on the river’s edge boasting rainbow lights in solidarity. Feel free to Google any of the places mentioned here and have your muse visit them. Although no events occur along the Southbank, it is a nice place to relax with large patches of greenery, and plenty of Buskers.

Soho: Soho is London’s gay district, located beside Chinatown there are some incredible restaurants nearby. But don’t let those distract your muse from the string of adult toy stores, gay bars, clubs, and culturally relevant bookshops. Your muse is able to visit any one of these places, we only ask that nsfw content (including visits to adult toy stores) be tagged accordingly. These only need to be placed under a ‘read more’ if you plan on being descriptive rather than vague, but everything should still be tagged with a trigger warning regardless. This is where people come to drink, celebrate, and potentially get lucky, so it’s definitely the rowdiest of locations. An amazing environment for those who like to party. Just around the corner you can find Soho Square Gardens, a miniature park where the party goers can relax before finding a new source of alcohol.

RULES:

Any nsfw content is allowed but must be placed under a ‘read more’. Trips to adult stores must be tagged but only need to be placed under a ‘read more’ if the mun plans on being descriptive. This is down to your discretion and we trust you to use your best judgement.

Your muse does not need to be LGBTQIA+ to attend. They can attend in support of relatives or friends, or simply attend as an ally, that is entirely up to you.

Unfortunately, as we all know, a part of London Pride is the presence of homophobic protesters who stand in a small barricade blocked by a row of Police Officers. We want to keep this space positive and welcoming, though if you do wish for your muse to come across a hateful group, we ask you tag ‘tw:homophobia’ and refrain from using any slurs. If a non-playable character in your thread decides to use one, please see the example below to familiarise yourself with how we would like you to handle the situation. Homophobic and transphobic words, along with any other form of discriminatory language will not be tolerated on the dash and we urge you to remember this can be a very sensitive topic. Please treat it with respect. Your muse is not allowed to interact with the protesters. (You are able to use the term Mudblood, of course) ‘He looked towards the crowd of protesters, listening with obvious frustration as they hurled insults and slurs at the people passing by.’

Your muse is entirely allowed to drink and partake in drug use, though if they decide to use drugs we would like you to use the tag ‘tw:druguse’. Please do not use any potentially triggering or major plotlines such as substance related injuries or an overdose without first consulting us admins.

Your muse does not have to stay in the same location for the duration of your thread, they are free to move between locations as your plot plays out.

The Ministry has declared a strict ‘no magic’ rule to protect the statue of secrecy. Whether your muse obeys this rule or breaks it is entirely up for you. We only ask they are careful about how and where they use magic.

#harry potter rp #hp rp #next gen rp #dark rp #lsrp #serenum:event #event #serenum:pride

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purrincess-chat · 5 years

Text

Marinette and the Lost Temple CH7

Part two of my thank you for 3.5k followers! So, with the recent airing of Feast, a lot of things in this fic have been disproven, but when have I ever cared about canon? I’m sticking to what I’ve had planned all along, cause fuck ya chicken strips. This chapter was inspired by this image from the Collector.

Read on AO3

Chapter 7

“Why the long face?”

Fu blinked out of his trance, flicking his gaze up to Elder Wei and plastering on a smile.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” he said, but Elder Wei knew him better, so he slouched. “My partner had to stay behind, and I kind of wanted to talk to her about something. The elders don’t really trust her, and I’m beginning to wonder if I should either.”

“For what it’s worth, the elders don’t trust you very much either,” Wei shot him a teasing smirk.

“You trust me,” Fu said, glancing back up at him as they descended the mountain.

“I am patient with you,” he corrected pointedly.

“I don’t see how that’s much different,” Fu shot back, and Wei smiled before fixing his gaze ahead.

“You can do great things if you just put your mind to them,” he said. “You have so much to learn.”

“Elder Wei, we’ve reached the edge of the barrier,” Ming announced, and Wei straightened his shoulders.

“Press on. Careful not to get disoriented,” he instructed as the scenery began to shift until they exited the path onto the main road where other people headed for town with various goods to trade and sell.

Fu smiled as he glanced around at all the buildings and people passing as they walked. They only had two hours to free time in town before they were to meet back at the entrance. Wei had the Moth brooch with him, and a Miraculous was the only way to open the barrier to get back, so Fu really didn’t want to get left behind. It was shame Marinette couldn’t come.

His expression fell as he watched his classmates visiting shops together, and a pit formed in his stomach.

Marinette…

There was so much he didn’t know about her, and everything with the elders… He shook his head to clear it. There was no sense in worrying about that now. Maybe he could find her a souvenir and ask her about it when they got back. After all, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. Sometimes he wished he didn’t stick his nose where it didn’t belong.

***

Marinette sat in the garden, legs crossed as she attempted to meditate. Attempted being the key word, and after several unsuccessful minutes, she leaned forward with a sigh.

“The key to successful meditation is to separate the mind from the soul,” Master Feng said as he approached, and Marinette glared over her shoulder at him.

“Are you here to formally kick me out?” She asked sourly as he sat beside her.

“Not yet, no.” He smirked, but Marinette was anything but amused. “I get the feeling that you know more than you let on.”

At that she averted her gaze.

“I’ve told you everything I know,” she said, hugging her knees to her chest.

“I believe you have told us everything you wanted us to know,” he said, folding his hands neatly in his lap. “You know something you’re not sharing because you want to protect the person involved, and I believe I know who it is.”

“I thought I was making it all up,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “So what would it matter if none of it is true?”

“A fair point. We have no way of knowing if you are telling the truth, only time will tell for sure, but just know that I will personally be keeping an eye on Fu when he returns,” he said, casting her a knowing look before she stood up and stalked off to her room.

***

Fu smiled down at the small charm in his hand hoping that Marinette would like it. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d broach the subject with her later, but he hoped that this would soften things a little. It’s not like there was an easy way to tell your partner you’d overheard her discussing the destruction of the Order and that she knew this because she was from the future, a future where he was the last remaining member of the Order of the Guardians. Something had always been off about her, but Fu had always assured that everyone from France was strange. It’s not like he’d ever been there.

He closed his fist around the charm with a sigh, shaking his head. She couldn’t be telling the truth. Him? The last guardian? As if. But even still, he didn’t want to believe Marinette was bad. Something in his gut trusted her.

“Fu!” He jumped at Ming’s voice. “We have to leave now!”

“What? Why?” A loud crash sounded from the docks across town, and several people ran up the street screaming.

“There’s a monster attacking, so Elder Wei has ordered all of us to return to the temple,” she explained before darting off with Fu hot on her heels.

They raced past townspeople fleeing their homes, and Fu surveyed their horrified expressions with a frown. There had to be something they could do.

A little girl screamed as her mother dragged her up the street, pawing after the doll dropped several paces back, and Fu hesitated a moment, glancing between her and the path back to the gate. His heart hammered in his chest, and before he could think better of it, his feet were pounding back down the road.

“Fu!” Ming called as he charged toward the monster’s path.

He eyed the giant creature crushing buildings in its wake as he stooped to retrieve the doll, narrowly dodging a tentacle as it slammed against the ground to his right. The small girl hugged her doll tightly when he ran it back to her, and he pushed the mother and the child on before retreating after Ming.

Elder Wei waited outside the entrance, ushering in other apprentices as they approached, and his face softened with relief when he spotted Fu.

“Hurry back through the gate,” he ordered, but Fu stood still, a tortured frown on his lips as he turned back to survey the destruction.

“Elder Wei, we can’t just runaway, can we? People are getting hurt, and the town will be destroyed,” he pleaded. “Isn’t it the job of Miraculous holders to help with disasters like this?”

“You kids are hardly ready to take on such a task. It is best to get you to safety and let nature take its course,” Wei said, and upon seeing Fu’s disappointment added, “There is nothing we can do. I’m sorry.”

“But you have a Miraculous! Make me your champion, and we can fight it together,” he said, eyes baring into Wei’s desperately.

“No, Fu! Now hurry up and get inside,” he ordered with a finality that made Fu’s eyes sting.

“You said that I could do great things if I just put my mind to them,” Fu shot back, and Wei eyed the brooch in his hands with a contemplative frown before offering it to Fu.

“Young apprentice, this is the Miraculous of the Moth which grants the power of transformation. Use it for the greater good,” he said, and Fu eyed it in his hands for a moment before reaching out to take it.

“Nooroo, transform me!”

“Elder Wei!” Ling ran up as Fu’s transformation finished. “I made sure everyone was alerted- you gave him the Miraculous?”

“There is no time to argue, Ling. Fu, transform Ling into your champion. The two of you must work together if you hope to defeat this monster,” Wei instructed, and the two boys eyed each other in disgust for a moment before Fu reluctantly held out a hand to one of his butterflies.

“I’m only doing this to save the town,” he said as Ling offered up his bracelet.

“Just give me something cool,” Ling rolled his eyes as the butterfly disappeared and purple light washed over him. “Seriously, Fu?”

“I’ve given you the powers of the horse Miraculous. We need to get that monster out of town,” Fu explained as Ling examined his costume. “There’s no time to argue.”

“Ugh, fine,” Ling groaned before they dashed into action.

“We need to lure it into a portal and dump it somewhere away from everyone like the ocean or something,” Fu said, and Ling pursed his lips.

“Alright, but let’s hurry,” he said.

“What? No smart comment or clever insult?” Fu quirked a brow.

“We don’t have time for that, Mr. Butterfly!” Ling flicked his nose, and Fu smiled.

“That’s more like it.” He nodded before drawing his sword and charging in.

Fu lured its attention back toward the river, dodging tentacles and slicing through debris that were hurled his way. All of those times he’d struggled in class, every defeat to his classmates, they made him feel like he wasn’t cut out for this, but in this moment, Fu had one goal: to save the town. Suddenly he understood what all of this meant. What being a guardian meant.

It wasn’t about cool superpowers or ancient magic. It wasn’t about being the best. It was about protecting people who needed it and making a stand when no one else will. He finally understood what it was like to wield a Miraculous.

“Now, Ling!” He called as they approached the docks, and Ling activated his power, summoning a portal large enough to encompass the creature.

Together Fu and Ling drove it back until it fell through the portal to the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. They threw their heads back with triumphant whoops as the portal closed, sealing away their threat for good, and Ling turned to Fu with a bow. Fu felt a sense of pride welling in his chest as he too pressed his fist to his palm and returned the gesture.

“Boys, we must hurry and return now,” Elder Wei called as soldiers road in, and Fu and Ling let their transformations drop before following after Wei. “Quickly, Fu, open the gate.”

Fu fumbled with the Moth, holding it up and opening the barrier for Wei and Ling as the shouts of military soldiers called after them. He glanced over his shoulder with wide eyes as they readied their guns before slipping through the barrier and racing up the path after Wei and Ling. As soon as he crossed the archway, he collapsed into Wei’s arms, panting heavily.

“You two boys did well,” Wei said, smoothing his hair. “I’m proud of you.”

Fu pulled back with a smile, reaching into his pocket for the Moth brooch but finding it missing. He patted his robes, searching each pocket but coming up empty handed and feeling his blood run cold.

“No…” His eyes widened with realization.

One the other side of the barrier, the army general stooped to retrieve the small brooch from the ground, wincing against the purple light as a small creature manifest before him. Several men raised their guns, but the moment Nooroo appeared, a sly grin curled on the general’s lips.

“Men, it appears that we are about to gain advantage over our enemies. A miraculous advantage.”

#miraculous ladybug #ml spoilers #marinette dupain-cheng #marinette march #marinette love #master fu #my writing #next chapter is the sad chapter #just a warning

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akar0ku · 4 years

Note

“Do you think if we met differently, we’d be friends?” Jack and Jarvis

“Cooling off”

Their mission for the day hadn’t gone over particularly well. Not that they ever really did to begin with. Though this one was really one for the record books.

“How could you mess this up?!” Jarvis shouted as he pushed his way through the dense undergrowth that blanketed the ground of the Nowem forest. Congealing greenish fluid and chunks of spongy organic matter covered him from head to toe. “Only you could make getting some stupid fruit so complicated.”

“How was I supposed to know that that thing was alive?” Jack argued, drenched in the same sticky, putrid smelling gunk as Jarvis. Only Daniel was the clean one out of the group, choosing to stay as far away as he could without being left behind and keeping quiet as the other two argued.

“You practically climbed right into its mouth! Is that what they teach you in the knights? How to run right into things and die without thinking?”

“If you knew that was it’s mouth then why didn’t you say anything? Isn’t it your job to, you know, be a leader or something?”

Jarvis spun around, pointing a finger at Jack and opening his mouth to make a retort. He quickly clamped it shut when he realized he had no argument to make that didn’t reveal he had known just as little about the weird plant creature as Jack had.

“I should have just left you in there to get digested.” Jarvis huffed, waving a hand with finality as he returned to pressing his way through the foliage.

“Yeah about that, you got swallowed up to. Talk about running into things without thinking.”

“REALLY wish I had left you in there!”

“Hey, at least you’re both okay. And we also got the fruit that...we came...here…” Daniel attempted to lighten up the situation but was cut short by two sets of glares. Accusatory glares that; without words, berated him for standing by and doing nothing while the owners struggled to hack their way out of a creature's stomach. Daniel fell back into silence as the two carried on with their bickering.

The row didn’t last for much longer though, as the party came across a section of river.

“Finally! Now we can clean up a bit and follow this back to that dark elf village.” Jarvis said, sounding over all pleased with the situation despite Jack’s incredulous look.

“Have we been lost this whole time?”

Jarvis paid minimal attention to the accusation. Instead kneeling by the water's edge and removing his helmet so he could clean the mess from his face and hair.

“We just need to follow this upstream, use the pig statue there to get back to Radiata, and then we can be done with this day.” Jarvis explained as he finished with his face and dunked his head gear into the rushing water to try and clean the grime caked to the inside and outside.

“I think the Forest Metropolis is the other direction.” Jack disagreed, frustrated and feeling defiant against the idea of cleaning up, purely out of spite. Though that feeling was waning quickly as his skin began to itch from the mucusy feeling substance on his skin.

Jack heard the long sigh and could picture the eye roll his comment earned.

“Well it doesn’t matter what you think because I’m the one who’s in charge.” Jarvis shot a patronizing look over his shoulder at Jack, reigniting his frustration back into anger.

“I dunno, your leadership hasn’t really been very useful to us so far.” Jack didn’t have the chance to see the expression on Jarvis’ face. Before he knew it a helmet full of water was being thrown at him, forcing him back a few steps as he sputtered in shock.

When Jack cleared the water from his eyes, he found Jarvis snickering up at him with the most punch-able smirk plastered across his face. Without missing a beat, Jack planted his boot on the older man's shoulder and shoved him with enough force to send him sprawling into the rushing water.

The self righteous smirk on Jarvis’ face was quickly replaced with rage as he scrambled back to his feet. He glared Jack down for a long moment, growling when the boy refused to back down or show any hint of subordination.

Jack didn’t move a muscle until Jarvis lunged for him. He tried to jump out of range but failed when Jarvis managed to catch him by the wrist and pull him into the water. The two grappled for a brief moment, paying no mind to Daniel as he yelled for them to stop. Though the river bed was rather muddy, Jack’s foot managed to find a slick rock which caused him to slip and lose balance. The slip caused enough of an opening for Jarvis to successfully throw the boy over his hip and into a deeper part of the river.

“There! How do you like being thrown onto YOUR ass for a change?” Jarvis waited for Jack to resurface, expecting him to have finally learned his place. As the seconds went by, Jarvis’ expression shifted to concern. He scanned the area for any hints of Jack’s body, but the shade from the trees and the sediment constantly being churned up by the current made it impossible to see anything under the surface.

“Hey, this isn’t funny kid! Knock it off.” Jarvis tried to maintain the irritated edge to his voice as he waded out into the knee deep waters, but he failed to hide his growing concern. Had Jack hit his head and was now lying unconscious at the bottom of the murky river? Was the currant stronger than it looked and had he been swept away by some river undertow? Was that even how rivers worked?

Jarvis didn’t notice the grip on his ankle until it was too late and he was being dragged down into the water as well. He thrashed around for a few moments before eventually righting himself to sit on his knees, coughing and gasping for air. He glanced over his shoulder, finding Jack sitting in the water, pouting at him a couple feet away.

“Why you manipulative little piece of…”

“Serves you right!”

“I should have just assumed you’d drowned and left you here!”

“Are you trying to say I should be grateful you bothered to come check on me after you smashed me into the water like that?!” Jack turned his head away and downward as Jarvis slapped a wave of water in his direction.

“Insolent, half-witted runt!” Jarvis raised his arms in a futile attempt to block the sheet of water Jack splashed back at him.

“Washed up, old wino!”

They continued on, hurling water and insults back and forth with no signs of stopping. They’d long forgotten their third squad member as he watched on with fading patience.

“STOOOOP!” Daniel screeched, catching both their attention. Jarvis and Jack stared in shock at him from where they still sat, chest deep in water and huffing from their shouting match.

“Sarge, you’re always scolding me and Jack whenever we start arguing with each other. You should be setting an example by not doing that ether!”

Jarvis practically bristled indignantly at being scolded by yet another subordinate.

“You don’t get to…”

“No!” Daniel cut him off with a petulant stomp of his foot. “You don’t get to have a double standard like that! And Jack, you need to stop egging him on when he gets like this!”

The smug grin Jack previously had in response to Jarvis being scolded quickly melted away, being replaced by a look akin to a scolded puppy.

“I’m so sick and tired of listening to you guys fight over the messes you both make.”

The duo remained silent for a long moment, the only sounds being the trickle of the water as it sloshed past them and the rustle of the leaves in the trees. It was this time that they realized just how late it was starting to get, with the sun no longer visible through the canopy and the light pink and orange hues in the sky alerting them to the oncoming twilight. Had they really spent that long aimlessly trudging their way through the forest, arguing the entire way?

“Hey, Sarge.” Jarvis snapped his gaze back to Jack, finding him starting sheepishly at the water. “Do you think if we met differently, we’d be friends?”

The question had caught him off guard, and he found he didn’t readily have an answer. If Jack hadn’t absolutely floored him on their first meeting, would they have gotten along better? Even then, would their personalities end up eventually clashing anyway? Jarvis huffed and shook his head.

“Honestly, I really don’t think it matters how we first met. We’re stuck together now and I guess we really need to make the best of it.” Jarvis pushed himself to his feet, and extended a hand towards Jack to help him up.

“So are you going to get over the fact that I kicked your butt that one time?” Jack willingly took the offered hand, now smiling his usual dopey puppy smile as Jarvis hauled him to his feet.

“Tell you what, I’ll admit that I wasn’t at my 100% and accept that you were lucky. So long as you cut the attitude and at least try to follow orders.”

“Only if you don’t send me to climb up man eating plants again.”

“Fair enough.” Both men shook on their deal and started making their way back to dry land, with Jarvis pausing to collect his helmet which had luckily snagged on an exposed root.

“Soooo, is that it? Are you guys going to get along now.” Daniel asked, surprised his outburst had given positive results.

“I dunno. I guess so. At least I don’t think Sarge is going to throw me into a river again.” Jack shrugged as he busied himself with wringing out his clothes..

“Hey, at least we’re clean now. And as for you.” Daniel gulped nervously as Jarvis approached him, suspiciously holding his upturned helmet. Before he could think to run, Jarvis had already swatted off his own hat and replaced it with the piece of armor, making him shriek as cold water and mud splashed down his face and the back of his neck.

“And that’s your punishment for yelling at me.” Jarvis hummed as he patronizingly patted the boy's helmeted head. “Now come on, let’s find this stupid tree village so we can go home. I need a hot shower, dinner, and drinks.”

“Sounds really good right about now. Minus the drinks part.” Jack agreed.

“Great! Should be this way.” Jarvis pointed off in his initial direction of upstream and both he and Jack hurried off, leaving Daniel behind once again.

Daniel grumbled to himself as he wiped the mud from his face. In the process he noticed lights not far downstream from them, in the opposite direction that his two squad-mates stalked off in. Deducing it must be the Forest Metropolis, Daniel turned to call out to Jack and Jarvis, only to find them quite a distance away already. He watched after them for a moment with an unimpressed look before turning and making his way back to civilization alone.

#radiata stories #fanfiction #ask prompt #Jarvis #Jack Russell #Daniel #What kind of creature did they fight?#hell if i know

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miss-wanderlustwriter · 6 years

Text

River Serpent (Drabble-ish)

Fangs Fogarty x Reader

#64 What happened back there? #60 You look like you could use a hug.

(A/N: Okay so I get a bit carried away with my drabbles sometimes...)

The soles of your vintage vans scuffed along the empty corridor towards the student lounge. The muffled laughs of your friends floated down the hallway and straight past you. All you could hear were Cheryl’s viscous snipes rattling around your brain.

“You can’t be a River Vixen and associated with snakes Y/N, I won’t allow it,” Her cherry lips caressed every word.

“You can’t be serious Cheryl? They’re my friends!” The pitch in your voice rising in disbelief.

“So were we.” She cut you off, she had already made up her mind. “Just leave your uniform in the locker room, you won’t be needing it.”

“Cheryl please.” You still begged, although instantly regretted it, and she gave you a once over as though you were purely there for her inconvenience.

“We’re done here. Ta ta Serpent bitch.” And with a wiggle of her fingers she spun on her heels and fluttered back to the girls, not caring that they had just witnessed the whole exchange.

You turned and fled out of the gym to the lockers, making sure no one could see your tears. Cheerleading was your life, how could she so easily rip it away from you. But then you took a moment, and you faced the prospect of losing your friends, and that caused your heart to plummet, threatening a much more painful outcome.

How could you go a day without seeing your best friend Toni, just the sight of her rose coloured hair and camera in hand was enough to cheer you up. You had been each others closest confidants since she scared away the bullies picking on you in pre-school.

Or what would you do without the looming figure of Sweet Pea over you, ready and waiting to protect you from anyone that posed a danger to his true family.

And then there was the boy who held your heart; Fangs. Not that he knew of course. The thought of not being able to tease him or laugh with him or just see his deep brown eyes everyday sent a wave of nausea through you.

No, you would not give any of them up, they were your friends, your family and you loved them with every fibre of yourself.

With the echo of Cheryl clouding your ears and the image of Fangs blurring your vision, you arrived in the lounge. You didn't even realise everyone was staring at your seemingly zombified state until Toni's voice pulled you into the present.

"Y/N? What happened back there?" She referred to seeing Cheryl not so politely hurl you into practise. Little did she know to only throw you back out again almost instantly.

"Where's your cheerleading uniform?" Fangs piped up before you could form words and your gaze shot from Toni over to him leaning forward in the armchair, his dark chocolate eyes fixed on you.

He loved you in that outfit; although he had never admitted it. But the way your skirt swirled around your thighs with your every move always had his mind racing, with not entirely innocent scenarios.

As the question slipped from his mouth his gazed drifted over your skinny jeans hugging you so graciously, and he suddenly regretted it.

"I got cut from the squad." You couldn't even bare to look at the shock written across each of them.

Toni was the quickest to react, "She can't do that!"

"Well she just did. And she's the Captain so technically she can," You sighed as your legs found they could move again and slowly carried you closer to your friends.

"On what grounds?" She had a knowing look in her eye but you weren't going to indulge in the details, it would only taint them with guilt.

You shrugged as you were passing Fangs in his armchair trying to avoid brushing his leg, knowing what it would do to you; but he had other ideas.

"You look like you could use a hug." The corners of your mouth lifted as he pulled you onto his lap, wrapping his comforting arms around your waist and earning a giggle from you as he squeezed you tightly to his chest.

You were enveloped in his intoxicating aftershave mixed with his serpent leather, it was the place you always wanted to be.

"Thanks Fangs." You pressed a friendly kiss to his temple and rested your head of the crown of his.

He mindfully stroked your hip with his callused fingertips, well aware he was catching your exposed skin between your jeans and blouse, "De nada mi Princesa."

His warm touch and honey toned voice sent an all too real shiver up your spine and straight to your heart.

Toni's questioning look caught your eye and she, not so subtly, raised her eyebrows at you both. To which you could only reply with an eye roll and slight pink flush to your cheeks.

"It's because of us isn't it?" Sweet Pea spoke up for the first time since you walked through the door, completely oblivious to the rising tension within the room, the ever present frown troubling his forehead.

He had been silently seething since Toni had asked the question; expecting, knowing, that their snake ink must be the reason Cheryl had gone all hell bent on you.

You lifted your head, not taking your eyes off the rage within Sweet Pea's and gave a small nod, inwardly cringing as you felt Fangs' arms stiffen slightly around you."It's fine Sweets. I promise-"

"It sure as hell is not fine Y/N," Sweet Pea stood and started pacing, "It's bad enough that we get punished for being Serpents but to start dragging you into it because you hang out with us, is not acceptable."

"Woah there Sweet Pea-" Nope, he wouldn't let Toni speak either.

"No Topaz-" He stopped pacing and turned to look at us all- "I'm sick of it." His voice was low, threatening. You was all too familiar with seeing this Sweet Pea, most recently in action against the bulldogs.

"Sweets stop." Finally he took a breath and snapped his head towards you, letting you speak, "Listen, you can't punch my way back onto the squad for me, it doesn't work like that, I'm fine. And besides, I'd rather be your friend than a Vixen anyways!"

A lightness returned to him at the defiance in your revelation, Toni sat there with a satisfactory smile and Fangs glanced up at you with pride.

"What about a Serpent?" All three sets of eyes swivelled to Fangs, who didn't falter at the sudden attention.

"What?" Your voice was barely audible and you couldn't look away from his iris's as they sparkled with his idea.

"Well you basically are one anyways just without the jacket," He shrugged but quickly became serious willing you all to agree, "Look, you defend us, you have literally just chosen us over cheerleading, and we know how much you love it. I know for a fact FP thinks of you as a daughter, and hell, you've gotten us out of enough shit up to now. You're a Serpent Y/N, maybe it's time it was official."

He flitted between the three of you but your eyes never left him, you could see the sincerity, he really wanted this. Did you want it though?

And as you sat with your best friends your heart told you yes.

You glanced at Toni and Sweets who looked impressed.

"I'm in." Sweets replied a smirk gracing his lips.

"Yeah me too," Toni agreed, "You're part of the family anyways babe, we got your back on this, like always."

Now all eyes turned to you. You could feel Fangs' eyes burning a hole in the side of your face trying to gauge your feelings.

A long deep breath passed through your lips before you spoke, your voice laced with excitement, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but yes, I'll do it."

They erupted in cheers, you couldn't hold your smile in any longer and Fangs squeezed you again, so tight you didn't think he was going to let go; not that you'd have minded if he didn't.

"Alright alright," You motioned them to calm down before turning to Fangs, a daring glimmer in your eyes, "Bet you only suggested it to watch me do the initiation dance."

You heard Toni bark out a laugh, and even glimpsed Sweet Pea smiling at your flirty accusation.

"Would I ever?!" He feigned shock and insult at your words before matching your cheeky tone, "Besides I reckon I'd get to see that anytime I wanted."

"Fangs!!" You screeched and smacked his chest in jest. "Bloody Serpents."

And at that you all cracked up, your earlier anguish long forgotten in the midst of the laughter.

#riverdale #fangs forgarty x reader #fangs fogarty #fangs riverdale #fangs forgarty imagine #fangs fogarty drabble #riverdale drabble #riverdale fanfic #riverdale fanfiction #fangs fogarty fanfiction #i got way carried away with this one #sorry not sorry #i love it so much #happy reading #let me know your thoughts #on a roll this week with posts

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gideonloser · 3 years

Text

Chapter four: I've got to find some fight inside me

Argus dropped them off at the LIRR, and within a few hours, the three had liberated a BMW off the streets of New York. Farrah swore- though it was not lost on Ash that she avoided doing so on the River Styx- that they were just borrowing it, but it was a good choice because if someone could afford a BMW, they probably could also afford to not have it for awhile.

Ash was the only one who had a license, so she commandeered the wheel while they were in the city. It was Theo’s quest, so he got shotgun, and Farrah sat in the back, trying to convince Ash that even if she didn’t technically have her license, she did know how to drive and could take the wheel for awhile. Ash finally relented somewhere in West Virginia and they traded seats. The older girl swore she was going to get some rest, but she couldn’t stop sitting up to backseat drive, telling Farrah to slow down every few miles, which was almost more annoying for the passenger than Farrah’s reckless driving.

Finally, the two came to an agreement. Farrah would go no over ten above the speed limit, five within sight of a city. In exchange, Ash would quiet down as long as there wasn’t any imminent danger from Farrah’s driving. Still unable to fully rest with her behind the wheel, though, Ash and Teddy traded seats so he could lay down and try to get some sleep. Before he moved to the back, he had found a radio station that was playing classic country music which wasn’t anyone’s favorite, but was probably the safest bet. With Johnny Cash serenading them about a ring of fire and it being fairly dark, only the soft glow of the radio and an occasional passing car’s headlights, he fell asleep.

And was woken far too short of a time later by a girl screaming and then before he could even process it, a crash. His vision blacked out for a second, but soon he came to and saw a dark shadow looming above him. For a second, he was almost afraid, but then it spoke.

“Theo! Are you okay?!” It was Ash, and he slowly sat up.

“Yeah, I’m fine, what- what happened?”

“Farrah crashed.” Ash said, and for a second he was afraid that she might not be okay, but her indignant voice assured him that wasn’t the case.

“There was a cow in the road!” She insisted, and as his eyes adjusted, he could see her doing battle with her seatbelt, which seemed to be stuck. “I swerved so we wouldn’t hit it, and when I did, Ash grabbed the wheel, and then we hit this telephone pole! Would you please help me?!”

Ash looked like she had something to say, but all it was was "Hold still."

Without Farrah writhing around, Ash was able to liberate her knife from where it was strapped to her arm and quickly slice through the seatbelt.

With everyone freed from the car, they all piled out to examine the damage. It didn't look good. They were definitely not going to be able to take the car any further.

"What happened again?" The boy asked, and Farrah once again went on the defensive.

"There was a cow! I didn't want to hit her, but Ash grabbed the wheel, and-"

Right on cue, the brunette's voice spoke, strangely calm and disconnected and somewhat distant, as she had turned and walked a few feet away.

"I don't think that's a cow."

Farrah and Teddy looked over at the creature in the road. It had the body of a cow, but it's head was tilted down in a way that seemed like it couldn't raise it, even if it wanted to, and it had a full head of shaggy hair, so they couldn't see it's face- though at this distance in the dim lighting, they wouldn't have been able to make anything out. It also had massive horns, and when it exhaled, it's breath appeared to be a green gas.

Now, Teddy didn't exactly grow up on a farm, but he had seen a few cows in his life and he was inclined to agree with his half-sister.

"What is that?!" He exclaimed, which only got the creature's attention, turning its massive form towards them. Initially it didn't seem aggressive, but Farrah asked for her knife from Ash, and when the moonlight hit the blade, it seemed to realize the trio did not come in peace and charged.

Farrah just barely had time to warn the others not to let it breathe on them before she was forced to engage in a knife fight with the monster. Teddy knew he had to act fast, but his sword was still in the car. He watched for half a moment to make sure she had the not-a-cow distracted and quickly threw the door open, looking through the dark interior for his trusty shield. Quickly, he was able to pull it out, but when he turned around he saw he wasn't fast enough. Farrah was backed up against the telephone pole, the creature so close that she had to close her eyes and hold her breath to avoid the green gas, which made it hard to plan strikes and easy for the monster to run her through with one of it's horns.

"Hey, ugly! Over here!" He knew that wasn't probably the best way to get the creature to turn his attention away from Farrah, but it worked! The cons, however, were that when it turned around, it hit Farrah so hard with it's tail that she was knocked to the ground, and now a monster so strong that it's mere tail could knock a teenager off it's feet was coming at him. He raised his sword, trying to think of a game plan, but there was no time. All he could do was step out of the way at the last second, causing it to run full speed into the BMW. It was so strong, it knocked the car onto it's side. While it was distracted disentangling it's horns from what had once been a door, Teddy continued hurling insults while moving back, just trying to keep it away from where Farrah was still getting her bearings.

It didn't work. When it was freed from the wreckage, it turned it's attention to the blonde, who was on shaky feet, blood splattered across the side of her face, which had landed on some broken glass. This tempted Teddy to do something very impulsive and pretty stupid, but there wasn't time to consider the consequences. He rushed forward, and took a running leap onto the thing's back. To his surprise, he landed it, but in the momentum his sword fell out of his hand, skittering away. All he could really do was grab it's horns- both to hold on and to pull them up, so it couldn't impale Farrah. She took a swipe at it, and some golden dust filtered into the air, but not enough. It wasn't dead.

So instead of fighting, she decided to flee. Fair enough. Even though she was still recovering, she had the advantage of agility and was the child of a god renown for his speed. She ran, and while she did, Teddy continued trying to slow it down by just generally being a nuisance, while it tried to shake him off. When the cow had almost caught up to Farrah, she changed directions. When the monster turned to follow, though, Teddy lost his grip and came crashing down. Without it’s bothersome burden, it was able to speed up and Teddy was able to sit up just in time to see what he was sure would be Farrah’s last moments before she was impaled. It was all happening so fast, he didn’t even have time to scream.

But then, at what seemed like the last second, two arrows flew out of what felt like nowhere, both perfect bullseyes for the cow’s eyes. That was enough, and with a mournful moo of pain, the monster started to dissolve. Theo looked up and there, standing atop the overturned car, was his sister. Ash held her bow sideways to allow her to fire two arrows that were horizontal to each other.

While he caught his breath and Farrah tried to make sense of how narrowly she had avoided being mauled, Ash lowered her bow, taking full stock of the scene before nodding to herself.

“Seems we’re off to a great start.”

#demigod au #writing #take the fall

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warriorsredux · 6 years

Text

Chapter Twenty-Six

It seemed like an eternity until the patrol returned. By that time, the Clan had collectively broken out in a case of the fidgets and no one was able to keep their voice down. There was an icy, twisting sensation in Fireheart’s belly as the anticipation of the meeting plucked away at his nerves.

He wasn’t standing by Greystripe anymore - Bluestar had ordered him and Raventhroat to join their Clanmates. For what reason, Fireheart wasn’t sure, but Raventhroat had had to gently herd him to the side. Neither of their eyes left their friend. Greystripe was sitting alone in front of the meeting stump with his head hanging so low that his nose was touching the ground. Fireheart wished he had the magic word to cheer him up, but all he could do was sit and wait.

The cats on the patrol didn’t need to ask for news, the Clan was so eager to get on with things. Bluestar walked in with them and took her time talking to them about the border before jumping up onto the stump. The Clan formed a half-circle and sat down, tails and ears twitching like they were being pestered by flies.

“I’m sure at least four versions of this story have circled around this camp by now,” Bluestar said. “Having talked to the parties involved myself, I’ll give you the short version of what we’re going with-”

“Greystripe was with a RiverClan cat,” Lizardtail said. “We already know.”

Bluestar’s eyes slid down to him. Lizardtail shut his mouth and stepped back.

“Greystripe formed a friendship with Silverstream of RiverClan,” Bluestar continued, as if nothing had happened. “This was, in part, due to him feeding RiverClan on his own. Because of an emotional mistake after Lionpelt’s death, this molly ended up with his kits. Both of them tried to think of ways to halt the inevitable. That went as well as you can expect. This morning, Silverstream experienced luthnai, fled from her camp and died from birthing complications.”

The Clan murmured to each other. Apparently, some of this information had not made its rounds.

“Before anyone else speaks, it’s important that we hear from the guilty party himself.” Bluestar turned to Greystripe. “If you want to make your case, do so now.”

Greystripe lifted his head, his eyes still dull. “No. That’s what happened. I messed up. I don’t have anything to say.”

“I do!” Fireheart said loudly. He barely flinched when everyone’s eyes went to him. “I- I know more about this than anyone else does.”

Raventhroat shrank back beside him.

“Go on,” Bluestar said.

“Do we have to hear from him?” Darkstripe complained. “He’s Greystripe’s friend, of course he’s going to defend him-”

“And you’re just going to push for his exile,” Fireheart said angrily. “Isn’t it fair that we get both sides’ opinion on this?”

The Clan exchanged skeptical looks. Fireheart took a few steps forward, running through what he had rehearsed in his head a thousand times during the wait.

“As soon as Greystripe found out about the kits, he was upset,” he said, careful to speak clearly and loud enough for everyone to hear. “He told me and Raventhroat that he knew he had messed up. He completely avoided the Sunning-rocks afterwards. Silverstream was- well, she was kind of my friend too, slightly. She was our age, and, uh... um...”

“Prone to mistakes,” Raventhroat whispered.

“Prone to mistakes,” Fireheart said. “Just like Greystripe. They didn’t intend to go beyond friendship, and by the end I think they stayed behind that border.”

“Except the time they didn’t,” Lizardtail remarked drily.

“Well- sure, but- the rest of the time they stayed friends,” Fireheart said quickly. “Greystripe made a mistake. He did the same thing Bluestar did, and you didn’t exile her for that.” He looked up at his leader. “Is this even an exile-level crime?”

“Not usually, no,” Bluestar said. “But occasionally, an example will have to be made.”

Fireheart turned back to the Clan. “So what about me? I’ve done lots of stupid stuff, and you haven’t exiled me yet. Greystripe only has one mark against him. I mean, it’s a big mark, I guess, but...”

The unimpressed expressions of his Clanmates wilted away his confidence. Fireheart lost his train of thought and quietly backed away to his spot beside Raventhroat with a muttered, “That’s all.”

“Would anyone else like to speak?” Bluestar said.

Teaselfoot edged out of the crowd. “I mean, I kind of agree with Fireheart. Greystripe should get in trouble, obviously, but we have precedent.”

“Did you forget that he fed our enemies our prey for several moons, even before Bluestar made that decree, on top of sneaking out to see someone?” Sandstorm said. “He’s got more to answer for than just this.”

“That’s not related to the current discussion,” Bluestar said calmly.

“It should still be taken into account,” Dustpelt said. “On top of him being a father to some of RiverClan’s cats. How is he supposed to attack his own blood when we start fighting for the Sunning-rocks again?”

Members of the Clan began speaking to and over each other.

“He can’t ever partake in a fight against RiverClan-”

“-why not just kick him out-”

“-send him away with his mistakes-”

“-RiverClan won’t take one of us-”

“-make him leave for a moon at least-”

As their voices grew louder, Fireheart watched Greystripe. He gave no indication he was hearing anything being said. By his gaze, he was somewhere far away, possibly across the river.

The Clan was starting to get excited. Voices grew louder, demanding a righteous punishment. A few cats even hurled insults at Greystripe and his kits. Fireheart stood up straight and lifted a paw to step forward and argue for his friend again when a gentle voice cut through the noise.

“If I could speak...”

The Clan went silent. Goldenflower had made her way out of the nursery, looking rather sleepy. Her kits’ muffled cries and Frostfur’s tired voice were the only noises in the clearing.

“I’ll only say this,” Goldenflower said. “We’ve all known Greystripe as long as he’s been alive. No one can say he isn’t a good tom and a good warrior. He’s earnest and friendly to a fault, and...” Her whiskers twitched. “Perhaps not the best critical thinker. From what I understand, this was all due to the loss of his mentor. It wasn’t the wisest thing he could have done, but we all know what it’s like to be grieving and unable to think clearly.”

No one spoke. Fireheart’s stomach untied itself at the slowly changing expressions to thoughtfulness.

“What he did was wrong,” Goldenflower said softly. “And we know he regrets it. He’s willing to take punishment for this deed. Doesn’t that say enough? Should we really exile him for a mistake like this?”

Darkstripe snorted and Lizardtail didn’t look convinced, but this speech had an effect on everyone else. As Goldenflower turned and went back into the nursery, the conversation calmed down.

“Perhaps just isolation, then-”

“-RiverClan wouldn’t take him, anyway-”

“-Bluestar didn’t get punished as bad-”

“He betrayed our trust!” Darkstripe cried. “Are you really going to let him get away with that?”

“He’s being punished,” Fireheart said, just barely resisting the urge to add on ‘you idiot’. “That’s what this whole thing’s about.”

Bluestar lifted her tail for silence. “Then we can accept that exile is out of our sights.”

There was a general murmur of agreement.

“Then, for now, unless I think of something better...” Bluestar looked down at Greystripe. “You are banned from visiting the RiverClan border, and from Gatherings for the indefinite future.”

Greystripe raised his head just a bit.

“You will also be living outside of camp for at least nine days,” Bluestar added. “You will catch your own prey and not be allowed to talk to anyone until your time is up. Understand?”

Greystripe nodded dimly. He still wasn’t looking at her.

“Are we all in agreement?” Bluestar said to the crowd. “Is there anyone who thinks he should receive a different punishment?”

No one said anything, except for Darkstripe, who grumbled something incoherent.

“Then this meeting is over.” Bluestar jumped down from her stump and nudged Greystripe with her nose. “Go find somewhere to sleep for a few days outside.”

Greystripe got up silently and trudged out of camp, not acknowledging the cold look one or two cats gave him. Fireheart heaved out a sigh of relief, the chill in his belly warming up.

“Uh oh,” said Raventhroat.

Fireheart followed his line of sight. Tigerclaw was sitting beside the stump. He hadn’t moved or spoken the entire time. His eyes were narrowed and he was perfectly still.

“Uh oh, what?” Fireheart said.

Raventhroat clicked his teeth, his ears back. He shook his head. “Nothing. I must have just been seeing something. Um-” he turned to Fireheart. “Anyway, good thing Goldenflower spoke up.”

“D’you think you can drop by the nursery and thank her for stepping in?” Fireheart said. “I’ve got a thing with kits, so...”

“Oh, right,” Raventhroat said. “Sure, I’ll go now. And-” he turned and gave Fireheart a very serious look. “We’re not to talk to Greystripe until his nine days are done. You could get in trouble for talking to him or bringing him prey.”

“You’ll ensure I don’t do that,” Fireheart said, waving his tail dismissively. “I’ve got it, don’t worry.”

Raventhroat didn’t look satisfied, but he walked off to the tree roots. Fireheart watched him duck his head into the nursery entrance before looking back at Tigerclaw.

Tigerclaw still wasn’t moving, but his eyes were on Bluestar, who was talking to Willowpelt. Fireheart tilted his head. He couldn’t tell whether Tigerclaw was upset or not.

Oh well, he thought, and greeted Raventhroat as he returned, the look already forgotten.

#little long but its worth it #warrior cats #warriors redux #redux #wr #chapter #chapter 26 #arc2

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roystonwrites · 6 years

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A Chance Encounter

This is a chapter of a story @kitistrasza and I had been working on a long time ago, that’s kind of fallen to the wayside. This was supposed to be the beginning chapter/prologue to the story, but we both ended up not really being fans of it. Nevertheless, I find it a decent one-shot. Hope you enjoy!

WARNING: Contains blood, gore, and animal death

A caravan of dragons marched down a muddy path. The sky was darkened with a thick blanket of clouds, no good for flight. Had it not been for their important mission; they would have stopped to rest, but theirs was a journey to Pracia, the largest Elven city on the Dragon Nation’s border. They had come to collect their annual tithe to Jene’shaya, Empress and Mother to all Dragons. This year it was especially important. Some of the elder Dragons had predicted a harsher winter, and perhaps even a shortage of food. Pracia had chosen to pay their tithe this year in salted meats, which they would no doubt find good use for as the frost set in and their hunters would barely find even a starved rabbit to satisfy their hunger.

So they continued their tedious trek on foot, their great claws leaving imprints deep in the mud, their feet and legs covered with dirt. It had been a full moon’s cycle since they had hunted decent prey, but they pressed on. At their last stop in a village to the west, they had heard of a band of dragon-hunting assassins that frequented this road. Though they were easily capable of handling any mere man or elf that came their way, the caravan kept its pace nonetheless. Some dragons drew rough hewn wood and iron wagons behind themselves, staying mostly in the center of the formation. The larger dragons, some with large plates of bronze armor upon their underbellies, formed the front of the caravan. In the back, a few smaller dragons flew close to the ground, keeping a watchful eye for any foe that may be tracking them.

They were of many vibrant colors, Dragons of green, blue, yellows, some a combination of several, dotted the group. Their wagons carried various goods; pottery, masonry, various armors, but not a scrap of food was seen. The caravan had exhausted their supplies a few days ago, and had yet to come across any decent hunting grounds in the days since they had left the last pitiful excuse of a village.

Soon enough, one spoke up. “Keldresh.” A smaller dragon of a light iridescent cyan color said to the dragon in the front of the formation.

“Yes, sister?” The pale, nearly opalescent, white dragon responded, turning her head but still walking. “It has been several days since we’ve had a full meal, my lady. If we do not hunt soon, it’s very likely we will begin losing numbers. Our vanguard especially are suffering.” She spoke with a slight edge to her voice that gave hint to her rising concern. Keldresh sighed, looking toward the ground. The land they now walked through was bordered by two mountain ranges, the only food they could hope to find here would be ram, maybe with luck a lost sheep, but certainly not enough to feed all those in the thunder of dragons. “We’d have to hunt the rams here to extinction just to make a meal for us all.” She spoke in Draconic tongue, simple guttural noises to the uninformed. “If I’m right, there are forests to the north, not too far from some fields. If we can scale the mountain, we could perhaps find a herd of deer.” The young dragon spoke. “If we had the strength to scale the mountain, that just might be a good idea.” She said solemnly, she placed a claw to her chin, perhaps such a course of action would be truly a good idea, if a few of the younger, more energetic whelps looped around to the valley...

Her thoughts halted with a sense of urgency, Keldesh raised her wings toward the sky quickly, signalling the caravan to come to a halt. The caravan stopped not a moment afterward. Wheels came to a halt, those in flight came to the ground, and all that was to be heard was the gust of wind that greeted the group as they now rested their tired legs, waiting for their leader to speak. Though no words came. Keldresh stood still, her ghostly, near see-through,wings still outstretched. Her eyes slowly scanned the horizon. Far down the path, coming through the billowing fog, was a group of people clad in dark leathers and mismatched chainmail. Most of those in the forefront, held long pikes with wicked curved blades, those she could make out hidden among the stones and mountain crevices held bows knocked with arrows, their fletchings of earthen tones to blend into the scenery. She tensed at the sight, her wings going to her sides as she let out a hiss. The group of dragons tightened their ranks. Though this band of soldiers could not be more than two-hundred strong, They endeavored to not lose a single dragon. As the group neared, they soon came to a halt as an elf in the front raised his hand. The two parties were not far from each other, but all one could hear was the occasional clatter of metal on metal from the chainmail armor, as dragon and soldier stared at each other in silence. An elf, a tall being clad in bright crimson armor, dented from many battles, as scarred as the man himself, spoke, his voice echoing through the mountain range. “We are the Army of the Free-Folk. Two-hundred and fifty strong. We come from Pracia, where our families suffer from your annual tithe. You come to take that which does not belong to you, but the hard working farmers of our city.” He continued. The soldiers behind him were silent. “Word has traveled far of the harsh winter your elders have predicted. We have come, acting of our own accord, to bring an end to you monsters taking advantage of us.” As if on cue, the troops raised their weapons and yelled, barking insults at the great beasts in front of them. Keldresh looked down upon the elven leader, and spoke in what common language she knew. “Your kind do not frighten us. We have traveled days on end for this, we’ve spent several nights going to sleep without food. Your army, if it could be called an army, will not make us turn back.” She spoke, not taking a step forward, but keeping her piercing gaze on the elf below her. “Surely you fear to lose even one?” He responded, “Your people are dying, beast. You’ve no way to replace the sisters you lose if you continue on this path.” Keldresh let out a low growl.

“You say that as if we will lose any.”

In an instant, she took to the sky, as did the rest of the dragons that followed her. They flew above the small fighting force, safely out of range of their weapons, a few dozen dark silhouettes circling the clan like vultures. The leader yelled out a command in some elven tongue, and the clan began to make a circular formation; those with spears making up the outer edge while those with bows stood in the center. For a moment, all was quiet.

In the dark vortex above, a dragon came surging down towards the soldiers. Archers let arrows fly, and those with spears to spare hurled them towards the dragon; a large streak of bright emerald flame hurtling towards them. Though many shots made their mark, the dragon made contact with the ground, sending out a shockwave that knocked many soldiers to their backs. She let out a great roar, digging her claws into the poor souls trapped beneath her massive body, leaving them rent to pieces in a bloody mess. The group quickly moved out of range of her snapping teeth, her neck whipping about like an angered snake. A hissing noise was heard amidst the yelling, and soon smoking arrows were let loose in a second volley. As the arrows hit their mark on the great beast’s hide she found herself blinded in clouds of thick smoke, letting loose an angered roar that shook the mountain pass. She back pedaled into the stone walls as she found herself blinded by this mortal trickery. The group took this chance, charging toward the dragon, the pikemen jabbing their weapons into her pale exposed underbelly. As she doubled over in pain, her snapping mouth in her panic claiming another soldier, the troop took to climbing over her back like ants, hacking at her wings, her neck, and legs, until eventually she fell silent, not even able to take flight. Blood leaked from many so many wounds by the time her body hit the ground a river of crimson had formed at the tips of her claws. The group wasted no time celebrating their kill, quickly moving away from the dragon’s corpse and stepping over the bodies of their fallen comrades. As they moved, two more dragons came to the fight, roaring in rage at the loss of their sister. One breathed a stream of fire into the crowd, setting many of the annoying creatures ablaze, while the other, set upon the crowd with her back claws, pulling the earthbound beings into the sky and dropping them like a robin's egg from a tree. Dragons swooped and roared, arrows dug deep into the scaled hides of many, bodies were strewn about the blood-soaked mud of the path, as the battle grew fierce and brought many crashing to the cold ground. The red-clad leader found himself victim to Keldresh herself, who swooped down from the clouds, picking him from the crowd as the other soldiers were distracted. Her blade-like teeth crushed his bones beneath his armor, and he let out a scream of agony until she bit completely through him. Just as suddenly as it had started, the battle was over. Several bodies of dragons, and every one of the soldiers that had not fled the scene, lay in a disorganized heap. Bent spears, broken bows, and rings chainmail that had been torn apart with claw and tooth lay scattered in the mud. Keldresh, still pulling a few arrows from her hide, spoke up to the rest of the crowd. “How many did we lose?” A smaller dragon spoke up. “Seven, my sister. These soldiers were not a simple militia.” Keldresh bowed her head in agreement. “There is more to this than we see, I believe. We will make sure to discuss with with the governing ruler of Pracia when we get there. Until then, lick your wounds and prepare to march. If we are lucky, there may be something left of their abandoned camp we can pick from for rations and resources to help on our journey.” “...And our dead?” The small dragon inquired. Keldresh thought for a moment. “Leave them, we’ve no time to send them off, we can collect them on our return if the weather turns in our favor.” The dragons did what they could to treat their wounds, the more desperate picking up a member of the slain militia to eat, and they left, their massive prints pressed deep into the muddy trail as they continued on their journey.

#RWfantasy #Fantasy #short story #writing #dragons #dragon #elves #elf #war

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