#to provide him with freshly cooked trauma

[adxmanial]

new campaign, new blorbo

[nctawarricr]

Basics

☪ Elliott Sage || ☪ 32 || ☪ Tattoo Artist || ☪ Sleep Paralysis Demon

✓: Clever. Calm. Adaptable.

✗: Dangerous. Stoic. Cold.

ℓιкεs; Cooking. Drawing. Working out. Movies. Puzzles. Metal working. Stargazing. Nicotine.

∂ιsℓιкεs; Being told what to do. Governments of any kind. Loud noises. Sleeping in.

𝔸𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕔: Pale purple morning skies, the smell of home cooking, hand rolled cigarettes that billow into the night sky, a thick accent, quiet understanding, fresh brewed coffee waiting for you, fog rolling in over the sea, multi colored eye bruises, lost youth turned into beer tears turned into aimless adulthood, knives edge grin complete with sharp canines, inked skin covering long faded scars.

The Good Stuff

He always had a love of art. He can't remember if it's from his mother or his father, but he does know someone instilled a love of all things beautiful in him. Art, writing, scenery, people, Elliott can't help but take a mental picture of the beauty around him and store it in his mind for later.

Of course, childhood trauma has a way of removing memories, warping them and distorting them, and Elliott is not immune to this. Years lost to moving city to city, country to country, and family to family, he couldn't tell you where he came from anymore. It all blurred together. He was pretty young when he realized— he doesn't matter.

This ideal grew into apathy that only broke when he made a friend in his teen years that stuck by him. Through thick and thin they were inseparable. Finding dark corners of alley ways, hanging out on rooftops, train hopping, sooner or later Elliott realized something he never thought possible; he'd fallen in love.

Baby faced and freshly twenty one, they were on top of the world. Two twin flames taking it day by day the best they could the happiness would only be short lived. In his mid twenties the love of his life would pass away and he'd find himself spiraling into his darkest depth yet.

He needed out. He needed a new start away from it all and that's how he found himself in New York. Trading his savings for new found freedom in a place where no one knew his name Elliott began to find himself again.

In this, he refound art. He began to draw designs for cash which lead him into tattooing. There was something challenging yet fulfilling about the art form that spoke to Elliott, it was like his own zen zone while providing someone else the final piece.

He's now been in the city for five years and tattooing for four of them. Not that he ever stopped drawing completely but he doesn't count his crude stick and pokes or the shotty work he did with a tattoo gun put together with rubber bands and glitter glue when he was in his early twenties.

Fun Stuff

Enjoys old man hobbies. Puzzles? Crossword puzzles? Crochet? He's sold.

Actually pretty handy. Part of his moving around allowed him to pick up different trades. He's good with his hands and can fix a lot of things.

Has a dachshund that he definitely didn't steal named Franklin.

Every year says he's going to stop smoking and has yet to do so.

Says some horrific things not realizing they're horrific.

Messy dude with a messy past but if asked he'll just wave his hand and say he'll tell you later (he won't).

Very strong and thick Russian accent. Does a great American impression though.

Lives above a laundromat and has befriended the owner and her daughter. You can sometimes find him walking the little girl to school. You mess with Ms. Ochoa? You mess with him.

[delbeugre]

Have you seen SADIE BEUGRE? DEL is in HER/THEIR SENIOR year. The MATHEMATICS MAJOR is 24 years old & is a CAPRICORN. People say SHE/THEY are GRITTY, BEWITCHING, RETICENT and WASPISH. Rumors say they’re a member of HASTINGS. I heard from the gossip blog that SHE BIT AN EX-BOYFRIEND’S PINKY FINGER OFF AFTER SHE FOUND OUT HE CHEATED, AND THEN HAPPILY SERVED TIME FOR IT.

im tommy im a freak and of course i am here to get freakalicious with u all... this is my newest frankenstein type creation named sadie i know .02% about her yet but i am more than confident she will b nothing but a fun time! like this if ur down to plot!

TW: VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF JAIL/PROSECUTION, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE, DRUG USE

BACKSTORY

capricorn sun / virgo moon / scorpio rising

raised by her uncle Big (his name) who is a hermit shut in town local in the depths of the florida marshland like some goosebumps protagonist. hes gone far past socially acceptable in terms of his ability to connect with the modern person but is wise beyond belief... his whole vibe is a warped cross between a cryptid and a mountain man that forages and cooks neighborhood plants. married for 27 years before his wife passed from illness. its quite possibly the only thing hes ever been emotional about

but dels entry to his life throws a wrench in his sadness (despite abandonment being what they bond over). she takes the focus away from his loss with her presence; her dad, his brother, died in a tragic train-car collision around the same time (which is speculated to be a suicide bt nobody can ever really be sure). he was a single parent so her custody is thrown up in the air for a few months as cps decides what they r gna do with this freshly orphaned little scrapper

she just kinda turns up on his doorstep n from there they cohabit a space. shes arnd 6-7 at this time... big never seemed to b phased by the fact tht she was a child n tended to treat her more like an apprentice or guest. he was never close to her father because of their age difference, being the older out of the two, so to have his daughter become his responsibility is just..... weird

this doesnt mean that he wouldnt provide for her bt it was. not very parental whatsoever.... no conversation or interaction beyond what was necessary. she was a mute fr a while and still is? to a degree.... very short spoken

when she got to her preteens he offered her an allowance in exchange for little odds and ends of stuff to be taken care of around the house. errands n all tht.... sometimes he wld purposefully leave things for her to pick up n take care of without mentioning it for a bonus. taught her the importance of saving your money and the horrid corruptness of a society basing everythings worth off paper. big exposed her to a lot of knowledge and took advantage of her silent curiosity by fueling it with books, homeschooling, life skills (catching a fish, setting a trap, knowing your berries in the woods...... the works)

her teens carried out the same way bt with the introduction of a real job, a spot down at the local butcher shop checking people out at the register and helping around the back of house. del knows a great deal abt cow/pig/chicken/etc anatomy from her years here..... she committed to being 100% vegan into her early twenties because of her trauma frm this occupation

it paid very well tho n was the best gig she was going to get within a reasonable biking route from home. so she settled!

the plan wasnt to keep it up for long anyway. she worked rly hard for her spot at yates and didnt intend to ever screw herself over. her plan was to get her bachelors, masters, become a professor, pursue a personal hobby of agriculture and build an elaborate greenhouse to live in

bt things happen..... 

some 35yr old douche with a green thumb woos her at a gardening store n swoops in to teach her a little more abt romance; all of this, of course, under the guise that he had all these tips and tricks for living environmentally friendly. a lame hippie wannabe that shouldve never even approached her bt alas.... he did

love is a touchy subject n it hadnt been something she set her sights on, but she was interested in wht this dude could teach her n at 19 she ended up falling in love. she delayed her education to stay an extra year back home and work out another plan which included him

this was very disappointing to her uncle bt he didnt have anything to say abt it. it was never parental before n it was never going to be, so this was another lesson she wld just have to overcome on her own

it turns out that she doesnt care for infidelity. when the confession comes out its met with a lot of screaming, bawling, blistering white hot anger. the whole incident is blacked out of her mind to b honest....

matters of the heart are no longer something to concern herself with because of the repercussions of her rash behavior regarding heartbreak O________O she spent a year in jail n still has to attend therapy / anger management meetings

deep down she is still hurting. there was a lot of pain... bt the sadness is not over the loss of some noob. she is in a state of constant disappointment, detaching from herself out of shame. putting her own life on pause only for it to turn out like that? stupid stupid stupid... 

PERSONALITY

chugging along! tldr spectre-like swamp nymph aura with the slightest (not so slight) unhinged feral tendencies

delicate like a moth resting in the gleam of a flashlight.... her anger singes her wings when shes too comfortable staying in one place, so theres always constant stimulation, always shifting gears. shes prone to feeling threatened; that being said, sadie is wary of walking in crowds, a little bit skittish when approached without making eye contact beforehand. like a small grey kitten..... in a big wide world

has a hard time keeping a conversation bt is very interested in debate, and even more so in studying alongside someone in complete silence. it reminds her of home in the same sense tht her uncle wld nudge her to keep reading by always having his own book open

doesnt have many friends and is alright with that. rumors are tht she is still a virgin bt who really knows? not i...... bt i wldnt be surprised if this was true. shes not impressed by people nor material items so this whole yates crowd is a turn off

she is truly clueless when it comes to how to behave around anyone her age. i think she understands but it just doesnt compute. she could come off as impolite bt it is just standoffishness? some people cld try to crack her but i dont think even she knows what that would be, or what that would look like. even in her one (1) failed relationship it was never deep heart to hearts or sharing dinner..... solitude is her realm

del is very comfortable with herself, very open with her wardrobe! doesnt leave too much to the imagination? she appreciates the human experience n expresses that thru this whole “body is a temple” type thing.... not quite confidence, but proudness of being. has gotten multiple notices frm professors for her tops being too sheer, nylons too ratted up, etc. has dirt under her fingernails half the time, chipped polish, some chapstick. smudges her eyeshadow on with her fingers

doesnt smoke cigarettes all too often but is dependent on weed. it kinda perpetuates her paranoid demeanor bt at the same time it keeps her lax enough to be able to mentally handle city life

her room is a playground for huge monstera plants, christmas cacti, ivy creeping along the doorway. she sleeps on a tiny thin mattress on the floor with a linen sheet and has her books stacked up on the ground next to it to hold her ashtray. the whole thing is dumb empty

takes her studies seriously and pinches every penny she can..... she has never ordered herself a coffee frm somewhere before, ordered food frm a restaurant... nothing. i wld think the most she would branch out from harvesting everything on her own is buying a bag of sunflower seeds frm a gas station, but even then, she much prefers eating stuff she grows herself. has a tomato plant, some basil beginning to sprout, etc.... manageable crops for any college students tiny space

...

bt yea thats it thats all! connections cld be all over the place. im legit open to anything. theres only a few tht come to mind right off that bat: 

a few people that get along with her? same classes? they shared a bowl n now theyre getting into the nitty gritty of some personal conversation that is veering into no mans land....

some sort of clueless makeover moment? arent rly into sadie as a person bt see a lot of potential... perhaps need a plus one to a party on the fly and figure thats the best option theyve got

crushes? this wld be fun n potentially dangerous! like playing with a hot cast iron pan or something :)

again im vry new to rp so i wld like to leave a lot of stuff up to chemistry, brainstorming n stuff like that, but please consider everything on the table! what i hav mentioned is the tip of the iceberg im so burnt out n i wrote a lot more than i intended to i am so sorry but i promise i am friendly

[omegarosemain]

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive Warnings:

Categories: M/F, M/M, M/M/F

Fandom: Castlevania (Cartoon)

Relationships: Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades/Adrian Tepes

Characters: Adrian Tepes, Trevor Belmont, Sypha Belnades, Belmont Family, Dracula Vlad Tepes, Lisa Tepes

Additional Tags: Time Travel, idk why i had to, (i do know why it’s cuz i wanted interactions with their families without them being dead), past trauma, reliving trauma in a way, it’s a slowburn maybe?, but i’m bad at delaying gratification so, the ot3 is a preestablish relationship, the first chapter just doesn’t start with them, okay?, no beta we die like women, hurt/comfort, fluff, play fighting, trevor’s sisters!, they’re powerful ladies

Language: English

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1: Torturing Our Boi, Naturally

Trevor woke up in a soft bed.

He was relaxed in a way that had his body struggling to react to his initial panic at waking up somewhere that he hadn’t fallen asleep--that place, of course, being Adrian’s creepy dungeon. The sensation was odd enough to have him on alert. 

There were embers glowing in the hearth, and a series of faint creaks like someone was trying to maneuver quietly a few rooms away, and a large window to his left. It was pre-dawn, by the look of the sky, and he was likely on the second floor.

Maybe that wave of magic had knocked him out, and Sypha and Adrian carried him up to bed...but why not their bedroom? In fact, this didn’t look like any bedroom in the castle, even if it was strangely familiar. And why weren’t they there with him, at least one of them, instead of lurking a few rooms away?

Uneasy, he reached for any of the weapons he kept on him. There were none on his person, which would be understandable if Sypha or Adrian had put him to bed, but the weapons also weren’t at the bedside table. Both of them knew him to be paranoid without his weapons near.

Also, he was wearing a nightgown like one he hadn’t in years. Even since being a permanent residence of the castle and not being forced to sleep in his only set of clothes, Trevor would rather sleep naked or with only undergarments.

In his search for his weapons, all he came across was a small dagger beneath his pillow.

It was his dagger, most certainly. Itfit his hand perfectly and had the crest of the Belmont family on its hilt. It was the dagger he was first trained to defend himself with. A Beolmont’s first weapon had always been presented like any normal child might receive a doll, with as much ceremony as their first steps. 

It had also been lost to the fire that took his home and family twelve years prior.

He suddenly recognized the room he was in. It had been his since he was eight, and had moved out of the “nursery” that he and his twin sister had shared since they were infants. Catherine had redecorated the room and it had become hers, and he was left in the smallest room at the farthest end of the hall.

Trevor took a sharp breath. 

Released it.

Took another breath.

What the fuck was going on?

Sypha had warned that the magic of the hidden dungeon had been old and deep, and Adrian had admitted that his father had taken possession of the castle almost five hundred years ago and still hadn’t know all its secrets. Was the magic there primed to...what? Look into his memories and recreate the worst moment(s) of his life?

If that was the case, though, Trevor should be outside and it should be closer to midnight than morning, and it should be snowing. He also shouldn’t have the free will to break the movements he had made before.

So what was this? An elaborate mind trick? Some sort of...interactive vision of a past he tried desperately to forget?

((Or maybe, a small part of him thought, I really am back in the days before that fire. The normal aches from his accumulated injuries and old scars were suspiciously absent, and his old dagger was much too small to fit so well in his should-be-grown-up hands.))

Trevor slipped from the bed, bare feet making contact with the wooden floor. He shivered slightly, involuntarily.

He dressed quickly in clothes he knew were meant for the daily life of a Belmont--for the training, and movement, and practicality their every day demanded--rather than some of the more aristocratic pieces. His muscle memory directed him to the water asin heating by the hearth to wash his face, and some combination of memory and a long-forgotten habit had him smoothing down the bedding. He slipped on his house-shoes and tucked his dagger into his sleeve before leaving the room.

The hall was achingly familiar, lined with doors that lead to his sisters’ rooms. There were a few portraits on the wall of long-dead ancestors, and a few paintings he knew Gabrielle made in her free time. Used to make. Still might make.

This was the family wing of the house. Like no time had passed at all, not years of drinking himself into oblivion or sleeping out in the cold or repressing all memories of home, he knew where everything was.

Louise was at the mouth of the hall, then Gabrielle, then Colette. Rounding around was Trevor’s, then Annette and Eleanore’s, then Catherine’s across from Louise. Trevor’s parents were on the landing. They would be the first line of defense if they had an intruder, Trevor realized now, as well as providing a barrier for children attempting to sneak out.

He skipped the squeaky floorboard and the creaky fourth step that lead to the main part of the house.

“Annette, is that you?”

Trevor froze halfway down the steps, fighting the urge to pull his dagger on his own mother. Or the memory of her, or whatever it was that was happening to him.

“Trevor? What are you doing creeping about so early?”

He turned to see Helaine Belmont standing at the top of the stairs like a spectre of the past, her dark hair braided over one shoulder and still dressed in only a nightdress. She smiled softly at him, a little confused by her youngest. Trevor had been the type to have to be forcibly roused as a child, he recalled now. Usually Louise had been the one to pull him out of bed as just routinely as a daily chore.

Something horrible and bitter clawed its way up his throat.

“What day is it?” he asked, forcing the words to come.

“Wednesday, dear,” answered his mother, confusion giving way to concern. “Why?”

You all burn on a Wednesday night.

I am an orphan on Thursday.

The church wants us all dead.

“What’s wrong Trevor?”

Why couldn’t he just say it? Was this the magic of the dungeon room, forcing a re-living where you feel like you could change things, but always lacked the ability to do so?

His mother was descending toward him, reaching out and despite himself he fell into her embrace. With the stairs and his twelve-year-old height, he was able to bury his face against her chest.

She spoke to him, carding her fingers through his hair. She said assurances, instructed him to breathe, told him everything was alright.

“You’re not real,” he choked out, even as he held onto her.

“Of course I’m real.” Her voice was calm, and strong. “Just remember our check.”

“Your-your favorite-room-” he tried. “Your favorite room is the-the green room.”

“And your favorite weapon is the war hammer,” she answered evenly. And it had been, back when he was twelve and just being allowed to start specialized weapon training. If it was the day he feared it was, he should have been given his first lesson with the whip only a few weeks earlier.

Slowly his breathing slowed so that he wasn’t gasping for air like a drowned man. His mother’s arms remained around him. When was the last time he had been allowed jsut to exist like this? Drawing comfort without feeling as though he had to give some back?

There was movement at the landing that caused him to jump.

It was Annette, looking just as she had before she died. Sixteen or so, always an early riser. She had their father’s curls and the green eyes of their mother, her hair pulled back and her silver staff in hand. Going for an early-morning warmup.

“Morning, Mama. Trevor.” Her eyes lingered over Trevor, undoubtedly trying to suss out what was going on as she squeezed past them to get past.

Their mother responded in kind, her lack of explanation enough to spur Annette on her way.

Once she had disappeared to the back garden, their mother gently asked, “What was all that about, dear?”

Trevor found himself searching for what to say. Could he tell her? What would it accomplish, if he was nothing but a child?

“I-I...I think I might have…”

She remained silent, waiting.

“I-it was a nightmare, I think. So vivid it could have been real.”

“A memory?”

“A vision, maybe. I don’t know.”

Visions were not unheard of within their family, but they were rare and only came at the most dire of times.

She just hummed. “Let’s get something to eat.”

Trevor watched in a daze as his mother, still in her nightgown, shooed the cook away and began to prepare breakfast. The mug of tea she made for him sat before him, leeching warmth into his hands. He couldn’t bring himself to drink it.

One after another his sisters spilled in.

First was Colette yawning, then Gabrielle with too much energy for someone freshly awake, then Annette done with training. Eleanor stumbled in with horrendous bedhead, Catherine right behind, trailed by Louise.

As soon as the last three entered, Catherine squeezed into Trevor’s chair beside him. If he hadn’t felt so far away he was certain he would cry at the press of his twin sister’s body against his side, one he had thought he’d forgotten until he’d abruptly remembered.

Catherine and him had shared a room long past they had to, and they did every lesson together. She used to be the person he told everything to, even the stupid crush he’d had on the gardener’s son.

“Didn’t have to drag you from bed today,” Louise teased, ruffling his hair as she passed.

He didn’t move, couldn’t answer. Their mother had to excuse him, telling them that he’d had a rather frightening nightmare. Catherine pushed herself, if possible, closer.

“Sticky rolls?” Pavel Belmont asked as he entered the now full kitchen. “What’s the occasion?”

Trevor seemed to wake up at the voice of his father. The scent of cinnamon and baking pastry was in the air. The cup between his hands was no warmer than the rest of the room. Catherine lined up against him knee to hip to elbow to shoulder. His mother still in her night clothes while everyone else was dressed. The dagger up his sleeve and his feet that didn’t quite touch the ground. His entire family that had been dead for over a decade standing all around him.

He folded in on himself, a sob falling from his lips unbidden. Catherine startled away to be swiftly replaced by their father.

“What’s wrong-”

“Trevor-”

“Is he-”

His sisters seemed to be trying to say something at once, as Trevor gasped around his sobbing as it all seemed to break at once.

Their mother sternly hushed them and for a few moments all was silent aside from Trevor’s hitched breathes.

She was on Trevor’s other side, then, brushing his hair aside and wiping away the tears spilling down his cheeks.

“Now, then, I think you should tell us about that maybe-vision of yours, yeah?”

Trevor leaned into his father, feeling as his arms tightened just so around him at the prospect of a vision.

“The-the church. They’re gonna come tonight, with a mob. They’re gonna-gonna burn the house down, with-burn it with everyone inside.”

There was a gasp from someone, but Trevor was only picking up steam. It didn’t matter if this was only an illusion, it felt real--so real that he would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t try to save them.

“They’ll come after dark, in the snow. I-I snuck out, to see the first snowfall. I do it sometimes. I had to watch and listen--I couldn’t move I was frozen--and the fire burned for hours. I heard your screaming but they threw something on the fire--they barred the first floor windows and doors and stabbed Eleanore when she tried to jump from the second story--It wasn’t until the next morning when there was nothing left but ash that they pulled out the bodies. And I-I was left all alone in the woods and I knew everyone was dead. I stayed there for days, hoping someone else had gotten out but-”

“Shh, Trevor, it’s alright,” his mother soothed, something frayed in her voice. “Take a deep breathe, dear.”

“We have to leave,” he said frantically, clinging to her wrist. “Before they come, we have to go before they-”

“We will.”

And just like that he slumped like a puppet without its strings.

Many things could still go wrong, of course. The mob would realize quickly that there were no screams coming from the house, or anyone trying to leap from the windows. They could track them, like they tried to track Trevor when they finally realized they were missing one of the children through the mess that was his family home and the bodies which also belonged to the servants. It would be easier to follow all of them immediately rather than him, alone, days later, even if he had been hungry and traumatized.

Hearing that they were aware, though, knowing that things would be different, made all the possibilities bearable.

His mother stood and Trevor saw the frightened faces of his sisters. Even Louise, the eldest, the one who never seemed to be thrown off by the world around her, was shaken.

“Breakfast time, I think,” their mother said with a small clap of her hands. “We have a busy day ahead of us.” 

Their father followed her instructions of securing everyone a fresh sticky roll, tense but not afraid like his children.

“Mother-” Colette began, holding tight to her fork.

“Don’t worry, there is a plan in place for evacuation. There are, of course, our safe houses across the continent, and other places for us to go. Eat. We will be alright now that we have the warning.”

Trevor was too stressed to care much about the strained silence, but he did miss Catherine taking up half his chair.

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 11--Samhain

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  Ienzo and company go to a resistance meeting, with many unexpected twists and turns along the way.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

The next morning, Ienzo was sore; he felt it rather distinctly when he moved. There had been a little blood, the night before, but it had sorted itself out. He did not exactly feel enlightened, merely disappointed. He had wanted it to be good, or at least painless. He considered buying himself a dilator, considered spells. He knew next to nothing about sex magic; should that change? Or was he merely thinking too hard about things?

Likely the latter.

Aeleus was waiting for him at the kitchen table. “Good morning, Ienzo.”

“Hello.”

“You seem tired.”

“I… am.”

He cocked his head. Aeleus looked tired himself. “Is everything alright?”

Ienzo hesitated. He wanted someone to talk to; but how embarrassing was it to admit what had happened? That he couldn’t even have proper sex with his own soulmate ? He also knew the longer his pause went on, the more Aeleus would be concerned. “Something did happen, but it should fix itself.” He hoped.

He nodded. “I know we… are not so close anymore. But know I am a patient ear, Ienzo.”

He smiled. “I know. And I appreciate it.”

Ienzo made them both omelettes. He needed, more than ever, the neat order of cooking. Perhaps he was more upset than he thought; though he did know that increased emotionality was a side effect of his pills.

“Kind of you,” Aeleus said. “You always were a little chef--though your idea of meals back then were a lot less palatable.”

“I’m sure Even’s been feeding you gruel,” Ienzo said.

He cracked a small smile. “He never did see the body as more than a vessel.” For a moment they ate in silence. Then, “Will you come with me to the Samhain meeting?”

“Yes. Moreover… I have… some interested parties.” When Aeleus’s expression did not change, Ienzo added, “They do not know who I am exactly. But these are also magic users. They sense me. And Demyx.”

“I should like to finally meet him.” He twirled his fork idly.

“I don’t think of them mean any ill will. And apparently I’ve met Kairi. Though I do not remember. I never thought I would be an unreliable narrator.” Ienzo shook his head.

“She was only four when she met you --I’m surprised she remembers as well. But given her magic… I’m not surprised.”

“What is her line?”

“It has to do with the heart, and memory. Her power comes from within, unlike yours, which connects you to the magic of the earth."

“...Must be part of why she has a normal hair color.” Ienzo sighed.

“Indeed. Ansem was fascinated by it, naturally. His own heart always  was with the sciences, not… petty bureaucracy.”

“As was yours, if I recall correctly.”

“And now I use that knowledge to undermine Xehanort.”

“If my parents had not passed, I wonder where you might have gone,” Ienzo murmured. “All of you.” This he did not remember at all; their deaths, comparatively speaking, had been mundane. A car accident, of all the things, and Ienzo’s mother had been too incapacitated to use her magic to save them.

“I doubt that would’ve stopped all that came next. Dwelling on it will only cause you pain.”

“...I know.”

Aeleus scooped up the last remaining bits of egg. “When we go… would be best if you wore a hat. Moreover, we should split up.”

“Then what should I tell Riku and Kairi?”

“There’s an abandoned mansion in the woods. Tell them to meet us there shortly before nightfall.”

He nodded. “Right. I’ll have Demyx meet me here.”

“Do you know if the boy has any combat experience?”

Ienzo thought of the afternoon with the Heartless. “I highly doubt it.”

Aeleus sighed. “Very well.”

The rest of the day, Ienzo waited with an anxious excitement for time to pass. His coursework provided little distraction, even though Eraqus had given him an independent research project. He dressed comfortably, but anonymously, and headed down into the basement.

The previous owner or tenant must’ve had plans to finish the space; there was drywall covering the cinderblock walls, but the floor had yet to be insulated. Considering their utter lack of possessions, it was mostly open, empty space other than the water heater. It had a damp, musty smell to it. Ienzo cast an additional ward on the door and sat on the blanket he’d brought down.

He took a deep breath in through his nose, letting himself feel it spread down to his lungs. He tried to slowly wake the magic, but it was a hungry thing, and rose immediately to his skin. Hence, why he’d wanted to do this down here. He kept breathing, trying to keep his thoughts orderly, calm. He could sense Aeleus moving around in his bedroom upstairs; Even was in the study, writing. Once he thought he was sufficiently centered enough, he stood.

When Ienzo was younger, the magic was more volatile, exploding out of him whenever he had a sudden wave of feeling. Sometimes this had a positive or neutral effect; making plants explode into growth, or suddenly having lights fly out of his hands. Others… not so much. Once a temper tantrum had knocked all of the books off of Ansem’s shelves in his study. Controlling it had taken time; and considering how he’d grown up, he’d had a lot of time getting to know his own power. He could make people see things, hear things. Elemental spells came with ease, as well as healing spells. If not for his physical body, his power would be almost limitless.

Ienzo understood why Xehanort wanted him so badly. Ienzo could be a weapon. Else… a threat to be eliminated.

With the magic humming freshly and readily under his skin, he generated some fake Heartless for himself to fight, tossing his own emotions at them to make them unpredictable in this fight--his embarrassment, his shame, his disappointment. This settled… he struck out at them with a sort of fury, the blades of the magic sharper, their color more intense than he remembered. Was it possible that Demyx was not only masking him, but making his power stronger ?

All the fakes gone, Ienzo was breathing hard, and was sweaty. He noticed that the soreness in his hips was gone; the magic had healed it away. He was just wondering if it were worth taking another shower when his phone buzzed.

I’m here. Demyx.

They hadn’t talked too much since their failed attempt at sex, not that it had been long. Ienzo wasn’t fully sure what to say, but he did want to embrace him. He dismantled the ward and climbed back up the stairs. “What on earth were you doing down there?” Even asked, pouring himself what Ienzo was sure was his dozenth cup of coffee.

“Keeping myself limber--the way you tell me to.”

Even just rolled his eyes.

“Demyx is here. Be nice.” He crossed through the kitchen to the front door and hurriedly brushed some of the dust off of his pants. Ienzo heard rain pattering outside; it must’ve started recently. He opened the door.

“Lovely weather, huh,” Demyx said lamely, lowering the hood of his jacket. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

A beat.

“How are you… doing?” he asked.

“Alright, I suppose. Yourself?”

“...Okay. Dunno if I should be nervous for this or not.”

Ienzo ushered him in. The clothes he was wearing were much darker than normal. “All you have to do is look pretty and be near me.”

A sigh. “Yeah. I know. Adventure, and all that.”

Ienzo smiled a little. He leaned up to kiss him once. “One of my guardians will be going with us.”

Even poked his head into the room.

“Good to see you again. Even, right?”

Even frowned a little. “You’re--” He put a hand to his head. “I completely forgot that ruffian we met that afternoon had a name.”

“...And not exactly a common one,” Demyx said. “That ruffian is right here.”

A faint blush rose in his face. “You’d better take care of him,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s my whole thing.” A shrug.

“I think we’ll survive,” Ienzo added.

Even acted like he hadn’t heard him. “You do realize how important his life is?”

“Do I realize. I was given this , wasn’t it?” He pulled out the pendant. “Look, man. This is the only thing I can do right, so let me.”

Aeleus came down the stairs then. Ienzo didn’t know what he’d expected; Demyx’s free-flowing nature was bound to clash with Even’s anal-retentiveness. “Are you ready to go, Ienzo?” he asked.

“...Quite. Come on then, Demyx.” Ienzo slid his hand into his.

The three of them headed out into the rain. It was a light fall rain, bringing with it freshness and the salt of the sea. Demyx lifted his head slightly, letting it kiss his face. “Rain always makes me miss home,” he murmured.

“I know you are a… seeker,” Aeleus said. “Where does your line originate?”

“Destiny Islands.” The street shone faintly in the rain, especially as the sun set in earnest. Unprompted, Demyx added, “we… were what you’d call sirens. I didn’t even walk on two legs until I was ten. Normally we can shift at will. Normally.”

Demyx hardly ever talked about his past with Ienzo, even since some of his memories returned; he normally focused on more lighthearted minutiae of their days.

Aeleus’s curiosity broke his usual quiet. “What was that like?”

“ Really weird. Everything just seemed so dry , and my skin was so itchy . I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The doctor just said it was trauma.”

“Because you washed up on the beach?” Ienzo asked.

“Yeah,” he said, and his eyes had gone distant. “All of a sudden it felt like… something was missing. That part of me… was just gone.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Truly.”

“Have you tried, since then?” Aeleus asked.

He nodded. “No go. Almost drowned myself a few times, trying.” With a laugh, but it lacked humor.

It was a miracle he didn’t resent Ienzo, he thought. Then, given their bond, was that possible? He didn’t want Demyx to hate him. “I have magic,” he said quietly. “Maybe I can fix that.”

Ienzo could see he was trying to bite back the hope. “You think?”

“What’s the point of having this power, if I can’t do anything with it? I will try. For you.”

“Power should always be used to help others,” Aeleus said.

“Is there anything else you remembered?” Ienzo asked in a low voice.

“Mostly just… stuff with my parents,” he admitted. “Just normal… stuff. Are we almost there?”

Ienzo did not push it farther.

The trees of the woods only made the rain louder, the sunset still darker. Aeleus’s flashlight soon became one of their only points of light in this darkness. Demyx squeezed his hand a little harder.

“Afraid of the dark?” Ienzo asked, only partially teasing.

“Nope,” Demyx said, but it wasn’t at all convincing.

The path crossed over with an old cobble road that must’ve been in use when the mansion was active, and eventually opened up into a clearing. The building must’ve once been beautiful, though now it was crumbling and derelict; its turrets had peeling shingles, its wide front windows were filthy and cracked, and the stained glass in its small clocktower had pieces missing. The black iron gates had been opened, leading to a garden with overgrown bushes and marble arches that were falling apart. Ienzo could just barely see Sora, Kairi, and Riku by the front door.

“You made it!” Demyx said cheerfully.

“And now my favorite boots are covered in mud,” Kairi added, with a sigh. “Oh well.”

Aeleus pushed open the double doors. Someone had clearly been through; candles had been lit in the rusty candelabras, and there were footprints in the dirt leading to another room. They stumbled over broken bits of inlaid parquet.

“You guys sure this isn’t a trap?” Sora asked. “Seems kinda creepy to me.”

“It is very safe,” Aeleus said.

“I think between us we can handle a Heartless or two. What, you chicken?” Riku asked.

He flushed. “Am not!”

They followed this trail of candles into a small study which seemed normal until Ienzo noticed the trap floor; only Aeleus’s quick hand stopped Demyx falling down the hidden set of stairs.

“Ever graceful,” Riku muttered.

“Shut up .”

But the steps were strange; jarringly metal and modern, and very clean . Sconces shone dimly in the metallic darkness.

“Let me go first,” Aeleus said. “Just to make sure.” He disappeared into the other room. After a pronounced silence, where they all looked at each other, Aeleus added in an odd voice, “Ienzo? Can you come through--just you?”

“Wait,” Demyx said.

“I trust Aeleus,” Ienzo reassured him quickly. “There must be a reason.”

Ienzo took a few steps… and realized why very quickly. With his magic so close to the surface, he could sense Aeleus’s energy… and the energy of one other.

He thought his knees might give out, and he took another few halting steps. “Father.” It sounded more like a bleat, a cry, then a word. “Father.”

Ansem had aged considerably in the past twelve years. His blond hair, once well-kept, was longer, and there were more wrinkles around his eyes than Ienzo remembered, but the warmth in those eyes was still the same. “Well met, little Ienzo.”

He couldn’t help it. He all but threw himself into Ansem’s arms. Tears he didn’t realize he’d been holding in were suddenly streaming out of his eyes. It shouldn’t hurt this much to see him again. He shouldn’t smell exactly the same, like oranges and coffee.

“I wish I could’ve seen you sooner, child. I know.” He could hear the tears in Ansem’s voice as well. “You’re so tall.”

It took Ienzo longer than was dignified to stem the flow of tears. Finally he did, and pulled away from Ansem at least enough to look him in the eye.

“Look at you,” he said softly. “I can hardly believe it.”

He swiped at his eyes. Slowly, he took off his hat, letting his hair fall back into his normal style.

“You look so like your father.”

“Where have you… been?” Ienzo asked slowly.

“In hiding. Much like you. But I have been… trying to devise a way for us to be together again. That starts here, with this resistance.”

“You’re its leader?”

Ansem laughed; Ienzo realized he’d forgotten what it sounded like. “Heavens, no. I’m not certain one could say we have a leader. Even so… I wish for you to have a good life, Ienzo, and for our people to be safe. This is one of the ways to do so.”

“Are you… disappointed in me, then?”

“Why ever would I be?”

Ienzo found it hard to meet his eyes. “Risking myself… for whatever might come from this?”

“Not at all. Your determination to make change is admirable.”

A beat of silence. Ienzo did not know what else to say. “I am… tired of waiting around,” he said. “How can I simply go to school while the darkness advances? While Xehanort wreaks… what kind of hell?”

His expression darkened. “Yes… I believe they were going to speak on that tonight.”

“...Quite.” He paused. “Moreover…” He reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled out the pendant.

“Oh…” Ansem sighed. “Child, you must understand… they promised you protection. I did not know--”

“It came with a body? Even said the same.” He ran his fingers along the glass. “He… is here with me.”

“That is a comfort. And I understand… you may be resentful. Naturally so.”

“My life has been without choice. Of course I want to do something now.”

A small smile. “Of course.”

“Would you want to meet him?” Ienzo asked.

“...Alright.”

Ienzo felt oddly numb as he climbed the stairs. The others were waiting patiently; Kairi was braiding Riku’s long hair as they watched something on Sora’s phone. Demyx, on the other hand, had an anxious, pinched look on his face. “Are you okay?” he asked instantly. “You look like you’ve been…” He reached out to touch Ienzo’s face.

“Come with me.” He took Demyx’s hand and led him down into that metal room.

Seeing Ansem, he gasped. “Oh--uh--your majesty--” He bowed a little.

“None of that,” Ansem said. “My name is Ansem. A king in exile is no king, is he?”

Demyx’s smile was very nervous. “This is why you were upset.”

Aeleus, who had been tactfully silent, finally said, “I didn’t want to say something sooner… lest it didn’t pan out.”

“Thank you, Aeleus. I know this was difficult.”

“Sorry--I’m just shook,” Demyx said. He pressed a hand to his forehead. “I mean, I knew you were the prince and all, but like--”

“...The prince?” another voice said from the stairs. Riku crossed his arms. “Sorry to crash the party, your majesty.”

They would’ve found out at the meeting, but Ienzo felt the chagrin anyway. Ansem sighed.

“Oh my gods!” Sora’s hands snapped to his mouth. “You mean this whole time you’ve been--”

“I kinda knew,” Kairi said, with a shrug.

“You knew and you didn’t say anything?”

Ienzo’s blush deepened. “Yes, yes, king, prince. We’ve got it.”

Sora frowned. “But if you’re the prince--where’s the princess?”

Ienzo cocked his head a little.

Comprehension dawned on him. “Oh! Sorry, I--”

“It’s okay. And I presume you know you must all carry this secret with you.”

Riku chuckled a little. “Why wouldn’t I? Things just got interesting. Though I’m surprised you got this one to keep a secret.” He thumped Demyx on the shoulder.

“Ow! Hey--”

Ansem laughed too. “These are the reinforcements Aeleus told me of, then.”

Ienzo shook his head. “Quite.”

He approached Kairi. “It is good to see you’re well. And your parents?”

“They’re good too.”

“We should head in,” Aeleus said. “It’s getting late.”

The next room was yet more metal, glowing panels on the floor adding extra light. A handful of people were already there; a woman about their age with a long brown braid, a young man with a scar across his face, a middle-aged blond man, and of all people--

“ Yuffie ?” Demyx asked.

“Guys! Hey!” She was cross-legged on the floor.

“What are you doing here?”

“ Resisting . Duh.” She rolled her eyes.

“But how long have you--”

Her cheer faded a little. “Since my dad died last year,” she murmured. “I kinda took it up for him.”

Yet more voices from the doorway. “Sorry we’re late,” a woman said. “Believe it or not--the train was delayed.” She had a bright blue bob. With her was Even, carrying papers and looking pissy.

There were a lot of people in this small room now. Ienzo knew that soon the air would probably start feeling stuffy. He had so many questions--for them, for Ansem, about this place, about Xehanort, about… everything. All of these magical fields brushed up against his, making him anxious.

Demyx rubbed his arm. “Power, huh,” he muttered. “Yuffie. Who would’ve thought.”

“Can we come to order, please?” the scar-faced man asked tiredly. “Lot of new faces today. I was asked not to point out the obvious about our special guest, so I won’t. Why don’t we go around and introduce ourselves?”

They did. Ienzo learned the blue-haired woman was Aqua, their longtime contact; she gave him a little wink.

“Why are we in this creepy basement?” Sora asked.

“Lotta power in this room,” Riku told him. “Being underground helps keep it from being too obvious. The metal does too.”

“The girls are keeping watch upstairs,” the woman with the braid, Aerith, added. “They’ll let me know if they sense anything.”

The circle had reached him. Demyx gave his hand a small squeeze. Ienzo looked towards Ansem, who nodded once. Not only was he outing himself as royalty, but he was also quite literally outing himself.

Get over it, he thought to himself. These people all knew some level of persecution; would they truly care about gender? “My name is Ienzo,” he said in a low voice. “But more likely… you know me as Ansem’s adopted child… _____.”

He kept his eyes on the floor as the revelation filled the space, a mixture of surprise and smug knowledge in equal parts. He saw Even’s lips flatten into a thin line, his disapproval clear. But he did not protest.

“I hope I may be of use to you. My power. I am tired of hiding and taking advantage of your good grace. Part of this havoc is because of me. I can’t lie back and take it anymore.”

The blond man laughed. “Well, we’re lucky today, ain’t we,” he said around the toothpick in his mouth. “Not one, but three bluebloods. I see you there, Miss Kairi.”

She blushed.

“All that power means something,” Aqua added. “Given Ienzo’s reach… if you’re truly willing to do this…”

“A trump card to turn the tide?” Leon asked. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“I am willing.”

“It might give people hope, to know you’re still alive,” Aqua said. “If not the public… than the very least the other members.”

“That this fighting isn’t for nothing?” Ienzo sighed. “I hope so. Tell me everything. Please.”

Ansem had said there was no leader; but the man named Leon seemed to be most comfortable doing the talking. He outlined the situation for Ienzo; Xehanort so far was determined to take the nation city-state by city-state, spreading his darkness across the nation from one coast to the other. He seemed to have created a second front as well, moving down towards them from the north. Hearing the casualty reports was… sobering.

“Why is nobody reporting this at all?” Ienzo asked.

“The masses would panic,” Aerith said. “Not to mention… where would they go ? Twilight Town is safest at the moment.”

“And the governments are just lying like dogs?”

“It seems… to a degree… Xehanort is willing to see some kind of reason,” Leon added, his lip curling. “If a city surrenders to him… he does apparently offer some kind of protection to the civilians.”

“The trolley problem,” Riku muttered. “Better a few die than all.”

“Quite,” Aeleus said gravely. “Moreover… what of these Heartless? They’ve been breaking through the city wards, and apparently beginning to show some kind of sentience.”

Aqua touched Even on the shoulder; he nodded once. “I’ve been looking into that,” he said. “I’m afraid… the truth is not for the faint of heart.” Ienzo cocked his head; Even scowled. “What? Child, you don’t think I sit around all day doing nothing but wait for you to come home?”

Yuffie tittered. Ienzo’s face heated.

Even gathered himself; his face lost all expression. “Heartless are supposed to be merely shadows, but the information I’ve been gathering… is worrying, to say the least.” He shuffled through some of his papers. “There have been… disappearances, if you will, in these areas noted to have higher than normal Heartless populations. At first, it seemed as though these individuals were simply being consumed, as Heartless are wont to do, but… these Heartless are chatty. They mention something about their hearts, about hearts pulled from bodies… and knowing what I know about a person’s heart and the way it is expressed through the aura… My working hypothesis is that these Heartless are being created from humans. Though how… I’ve yet to determine. Darkness can break physics, but so far all the casualties from Heartless have just been… bodies. I’ll need to study further.”

There was just silence for a long time. Ienzo looked at his palms. That Heartless he’d killed before he’d run into Dilan had been a person… he’d killed someone. A hot rush of nausea nearly brought tears to his eyes.

But they were suffering, he thought quickly. Then, could I have helped them become human again?

Even let out a long breath. “Moreover… there’s some circumstantial evidence that Xehanort… is using some of my own personal research to forward his agenda.” He grit his teeth. “ That I cannot let go of.”

“What kind of research?” Leon asked.

“I was looking into ways to create artificial bodies… to help those who have lost physical functioning. It was all theory , and yet… Cid found some concerning surveillance footage in Radiant Garden proper.”

“The replicas…” Ansem murmured. “You don’t think--”

“I’ve no idea what he would need bodies for , nor do I know how he’d animate them.” Even was really getting agitated now.

“Someone has to find out,” Aqua said. “I could investigate and report back.”

“And be safe about it,” Leon said. “If this is possible… we need to know.”

There was a pronounced silence. “Could I do something with my power?” Ienzo asked.

“No,” Even and Ansem said at the same time; Even locked eyes with the king once, his expression growing pained for a moment before smoothing to neutral. “No, it’s simply too dangerous for you,” Even finished. “They’d sense you in a heartbeat.”

“Even if I went with him?” Demyx asked, the fear in his voice audible.

“It’s not worth the risk.”

Ienzo’s fists clenched in his lap. “So what can I do,” he said softly.

Leon’s blue eyes (a cool blue, a normal blue) met his. “I’m wondering…” He began, drumming his fingers on his notebook. “How does your power… work with electronics?”

“I’ve no idea,” Ienzo said honestly, his curiosity piqued.

“Cid,” Leon said, still holding Ienzo’s gaze. “See what you can come up with about the network.”

“Shit, now that’s interesting,” Cid said. “Right on.”

“So should I connect to this network,” Ienzo said. “What then?”

“Think that depends on the true extent of your power. But potentially… well. Hope I haven’t gotten too rusty at hacking.”

Something to hold onto. “Right.”

The meeting ended not long after that. Ienzo was reeling--between the information about the Heartless, and seeing Ansem again, he had no idea how he was supposed to feel. The others broke off, to talk to Leon and see how they might be of use; Demyx squeezed his hand. “Guess I married up,” he murmured.

Ienzo smiled wearily. He could see across the room Even and Ansem in conversation, their expressions sharp, serious. After a moment, Ansem reached out to touch his arm. “Go on,” Ansem mouthed towards Ienzo. “I’ll see you soon.”

Though Ienzo was loath to listen, he also knew that Even and Ansem deserved a proper reunion as well. He let Demyx guide him out of that stuffy room, back up the stairs, and out of the mansion. It was fully night now. “Samhain,” Ienzo murmured. “I wonder if we’ll see any spirits along the way.”

Demyx shuddered. “I dunno. Not sure I want to find out.”

He exhaled. “You’re right--it’s after dark. We should go home.”

They headed back towards the forest. The rain was heavier now, the darkness thicker; Ienzo lit a small orb in his hand to guide them back onto the path. Demyx shuddered.

“It’s alright, if you’re scared of the dark,” Ienzo said. “Fine, especially now.”

“Some protector I am. Can’t even stand the dark.”

There was a whisper behind them, a crunch; Ienzo turned. “Must be one of the others.”

“Are you… sure?”

“Take a breath. It’s okay.” Still, Ienzo moved a little faster. The whispering got louder.

“I don’t know,” Demyx said, with a trace of panic.

“We’re nearly back on the street. They’ll be repelled by the light.”

The whispering surrounded them, a heavy smell of smoke, making the light in Ienzo’s palm dim. Ienzo let the magic wake further, and found to his shock there were more Heartless than he thought.

“I can… I can take them. Don’t worry.” But Ienzo had never seen this many Heartless at once; he had no idea why he hadn’t sensed them before.

There was a jammer.

“Saїx,” Ienzo whispered. “Oh--Ansem.”

“The others can protect him. We need to get out of here.”

“Stay near me. I’m going to… take care of them.” Heartless being made from people.

Ienzo… hesitated.

It was this hesitation they sensed, and they descended onto them, snuffing out his light entirely, shadows screaming.

Find boy find boy

Help me

Who’s the other one?

It’s hurting hurting hurting

Make it stop. Make it stop.

Where’s my wife?

“Ienzo, maybe you should do something?”

It felt like something was tugging at his magic, making him feel weird, weak, numb--

“Ienzo!” A more desperate cry.

“I can’t--I feel--” He tried to conjure magic with his palms, but it was hard to breathe.

“ Ienzo .”

A burst of light, a smell of the sea, and suddenly Ienzo was even wetter than before, and on the ground. Demyx tapped his face; he was doubled, dizzy, his phone flashlight throwing his face into sharp relief. “Demyx? What…” He struggled to sit up.

“I… I did magic, I don’t know how--they’re gone. The ones I didn’t kill I ran away.”

Ienzo tried to gather his strength. The magic seemed to be returning, so slowly… “I smell… vomit.”

“That was… me. I’m sorry. Just--thinking about what Even was saying--”

“Killing people,” he murmured.

“But they’re not people, they were screaming in pain, I heard it--”

“You did the right thing,” he said.

Demyx helped him up. “It was… water,” he said breathlessly. “Water, and… and light, I--I didn’t even know I could--”

“A latent power.”

“Triggered by you,” he mumbled.

“Maybe you… can get your powers back.”

“We need to get home,” Demyx said. “I… I don’t like the look of this place.”

“I hope we were the only ones attacked,” Ienzo muttered. He had to lean on Demyx heavily. “My fathers…” He pulled out his cell phone to text them. The bright screen sent a finger of pain through his right eye, and suddenly everything went black.

[mysmedrabbles]

Domestic Life with V (+Cat)

requested: by anonymous

a/n: male! mc. this is just,, gay central at this point lol,, not that i’m complaining. i feel like this should have been titled, “Domestic Life with Cat (+V)” instead lmao. OKAY this is separated into different parts bc my brains kind of a mess and this seemed the best way to organize,, enjoy!!!

want to support V’s recovery? buy me a coffee!

warnings: wholesome. v wholesome.

-time is fake and so is my vegan cheese mod alex

Intro

-V... he’d endured so much over such a long span of time that time after time again he’d wanted to give up, to drown in his sorrows, letting them consume him. It was his fault for trusting her, his fault that the RFA was in danger. He wore his scars like a memory, a warning to those around him, he was dangerous, he messed everything up, he wasn’t trustworthy. 

-and he’d truly believed that, really with his whole essence, a hatred for himself so strong that it (metaphorically) blinded him from the obvious fact that... none of it had been his fault, that he’d been dragged along and manipulated, but that He Was Not To Blame

-so when he meets you, he’s not sure how to react when you treat him with nothing but kindness and support, constantly switching between idealizing you and making himself think that you were just like the others, only being kind to get something before abandoning him.

-but you stayed. you stayed and you loved him and supported him through everything; his recovery, his rehabilitation, the aftermath.

-because in truth? you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else than right next to him

 `          `          `

The Beginning of Ye-Jin

-Ye-Jin was supposed to be a foster kitten. V’s doctor had recommended getting some sort of pet, as pets tend to be therapeutic to survivors of abuse, and people with mental illness in general! So the two of you had opted to foster the kitten, not wanting to make the full commitment in case the two of you weren’t ready

-this ideology of course, only lasted until about the car, when a tiny little Ye-Jin turned around and waddled to the front of her cage, letting out a happy little meow before throwing herself on the bottom of the cage, belly up and purring already.

-in which both of you went IMMEDIATELY back into the shelter and adopted her on the spot, deciding to keep her given name, “Ye-Jin” (meaning precious)

-she becomes the epicenter of both of your guys’ lives, and one of V’s favourite things to photograph

-he has his own special collection of photos of his gorgeous boyfriend and his favourite kitten

-late mornings together where Ye-Jin hops up into bed with the two of you, sitting right on top of your stomach or next to your shoulder, purring happily as V takes countless photos of the two of you on his phone (yes he’s genuinely upset that he can’t catch these moments on his camera, but just being in the presence of his two loves is everything to him

-you can hear him cooing at her as he waters his flowers, calling her Jag-eun Amso (little cow), for her cute little black patches on her fur, and explaining to her what each plant does and represents

-yes he has gotten into arguments with jumin on who's cat is cuter

-she likes watching the two of you cook together from her little perch on the fridge, watching as V hugs you from behind, swaying with you from side to side to silent music, just seeing the way he smiles to himself whenever you chuckle, burying his face in the crook of your neck and leaving a trail of kisses down your shoulder

-its an odd time for Ye-Jin, i’ll admit that

-you having to chide her whenever she hops up onto the be while the two of you are doing laundry, her need to curl up inside a freshly warm shirt overpowering her logic of “dad number 2 is telling me to get off the bed so i should get off the bed”

-V melts, and in the end gives Ye-Jin one of his old shirts, washing it at the same time as when you do laundry so that she sits on that instead

-what can I say? she certainly stole all the hearts

`          `           `

Mental Health

-depression with V wasn’t as easily spotted as with the others, he wasn’t bedridden, not especially socially withdrawn; but whenever he was having an episode... the cloud around his demeanor came back, hiding everything good about life in a hazy fog

-he gets the same look in his eyes that he had when you first met him, the same apologetic “It’s all my fault” look that never failed to break your heart.

-because in the end, it was never weak of him to ask for help when needed, there was a whole support system around him that valued this mans presence and his abuse was never something that he deserved.

-on days like this, the most you can do is go on a walk with him

-its silent, but your interlaced fingers and the gentle squeezes of your hand on his tells him more than you could ever fathom, the simple gesture enough to make his heart remember what feeling is. 

-walking in nature with you always helps him remember the nice things in life, and the silence helps him battle his thoughts, especially knowing that you’re there for him if he ever needed help... it warmed his heart, made the dark days almost okay as he stared at you, the stunning boy walking with him, the smallest smile on his face as he looked off into distance.

-he’s in constant need of cuddles, and his need increases tenfold, eventually becoming confident enough where he’ll shyly ask you if you want to stay with him for a minute

-of course, a minute never lasts only a minute,, using this time to be there for him and help him understand how much he means to you

-running your hands through his hair, stroking his cheeks and pressing small kisses to his nose, making him almost giggle in delight

-whispering how much you care for him, that no matter what, he can always count on you to be there for him at the end of the day. you know you’re doing a good job when he leans into you, drawn to whatever sort of warmth you can provide, head drooping down as he gets closer to you

-on nights like these, the two of you often fall asleep on the couch, and waking up with a disgruntled Ye-Jin trying to find a spot to sleep with you guys is a sight that never fails to make both of you laugh sleepily, trying to make room for her

`        `        `

-although trauma is something you can never forget, living and loving you, everything becomes easier for V, letting a real grin breaking through as you get your own happy ending, complete with the museum dates, slow dancing together in your pyjamas at 1 in the morning when you can’t sleep,, being silly and wiping frosting on his nose for his birthday,,

-with you be believes in the possibility of a good life... his own good end, if you will.

[qwertythepopstarian08]

Face the Music - JSAB AU fanfic

Another birthday gift for @all-art-and-mun-crazyness!

This fic is based in our Apocalypse AU, a spinoff of Glitch Realms in which Blixer never becomes a robot, and some time after he and Tio find and adopt two Hikarlux cubs, Geophages and Doomere begin to invade Paradise, turning shapes into zombies...

Warning for minor implied gore/violence/horror. Warning for implied child neglect and animal death. 

The apocalypse wasn’t all explosions and betrayal, as Honey thought it’d be. He was much too young to watch the really scary movies that his parents binged on Halloween, but he’d stolen more than a few peeks of some of the watered down television versions that his older sister loved to laugh at to know what the apocalypse was supposed to be like. All the gore and brains certainly made his scales crawl in discomfort, and he vaguely wondered why most wild members of his species were said to dine on similar meals, when he himself was sickened by the sight of blood and content to eat salad and cookies.

He didn’t dwell on the thought at the time, but in hindsight, he should’ve swallowed his fears and eaten that corpse.

It had appeared on their lawn one day, a shape’s prone body, dead in the middle of likely running for help. It smelled of sickness, though nothing lethal or even infectious to his kind, for his internal fire would burn away all traces of disease. He’d poked at the body with a stick until it had turned to shards, upon which point he’d flown, sobbing, to his parents, crying out of the fear that he’d killed someone. They’d patted him on the head and went to clean up the mess, calling the local law enforcement to ensure that there was no foul play at hand, and that had been that.

Oh, how Honey wished he’d given into his predatory nature.

By the time the shards were disposed of, the dust had settled into the earth, festering and incubating a deadly plague, a virus which would soon overtake Paradise, starting from this little garden. No one had questioned why the shards were so grey, so brittle.

Even an ill shape would crumble cleanly, and the shards would fade to dust and glassy core bits within days, decomposing as the magic inside eroded at the physical body. It was never so instant, unless the core was destroyed entirely, and all at once.

No one had questioned it, too distracted by Honey’s tears, distracted by his trauma. His papa was a doctor, and a brilliant one, raised and trained by one of the best, and yet even he’d been swayed from his senses by the sight of his child in an anguished state.

The soil festered, rot and disease taking hold. The garden withered.

Patient Zero had died on the Fresh household’s front yard, among freshly ripened vegetables. Dust sprinkled not only the surface, but the roots and innards of the juicy, deceptively savory plants, just itching to be injested or inhaled by a vulnerable shape.

It’d been a mere flu, a small sniffle that left both of Honey’s parents bedridden for days. At the time, Honey had been convinced that they’d wake up perfectly fine, that he’d get up one morning to see them back to their normal routine, Tio making a hearty breakfast and Blixer sitting on the couch, watching Saturday morning cartoons with Belle. No such day came, and as the time passed, Honey worried for his family.

A week since the body appeared, the first outbreak of the Geophage illness was reported on the news. First only one network covered the story, reporting the mysterious deaths of about a dozen shapes in a small hospital near Honey’s school.

A month later, the death count skyrocketed to the hundreds.

His parents tried their best to keep him and his siblings safe. He was instructed to avoid leaving the house until the virus passed, to keep clean and avoid eating anything past its due date, even by a day or so. The family resorted to eating from their own garden, in addition to whatever animals Blixer could catch that grazed near the Beneath, far from the outbreak. Meals were few and far in between, for his parents were still recovering from the flu, but they were hearty and healthy when they could provide. Honey appreciated the effort.

For a while, things were peaceful. Honey forgot about the virus, for the television was kept on the cartoon channels at all times during the day now, if only to spare his young psyche from the horrors of the disease. There were no more late night movie marathons; every moment of his parents’ time was spent either gathering food or resting in bed. Honey didn’t worry, for he’d started to believe this was normal. The walls muffled the screams outside, and when a shape’s bloodied handprint marked the windows, it was gone within the hour, either by his parents cleaning the stain or a hungry outside cat licking it up. Honey stopped seeing cats around the neighborhood, even when he stared out the window for hours. His window was soon boarded up, only allowing a sliver of sunlight in. Honey liked it better this way.

A year into the apocalypse, things went downhill.

It started with a cough, a persistent, deep cough that struck Blixer and Tio at the same time. They’d been getting better, Honey realized sadly. His siblings assured him that it was a momentary relapse, for their parents hadn’t been able to get any medicine to treat their flu.

But the flu wasn’t supposed to last this long, Honey recalled from his science class. His parents brushed off his worries, and he went along with their facade with a smile.

That night, he thought he saw his papa’s hue fading a bit, in striped patterns down his arm. Honey didn’t question it, nor did he ask where the expired ham that had been in the back of the fridge since Thanksgiving had gone off to. It wasn’t in the trash, but he caught a whiff of it every time Tio spoke, as if it were laced in his breath.

Meals grew scarcer with each passing day. Where Tio had gone pale and thin, Blixer’s fur had darkened to a maroon hue, and his eye was now a piercing scarlet. He stopped catching animals, leaving their salads to be nothing but thin salads and the occasional tomato.

The garden was withering, and Honey knew, in the back of his mind, that the plants would be gone soon, too.

Someone was eating the expired food. Lava, who once clung to his parents like a lifeline, stayed far from them at all times. He awoke Honey at midnight one night, whispering of the rotten smell now permeating around their parents… Honey noticed it, too, but he refused to say anything. After all, what could he assume about a shape, when he wasn’t even one, himself?

A week went by before the break in occurred. The window in Belle’s room was smashed, a dark, static, and furry creature darting in. It snatched the weakened child before Honey could react, and upon sight of its piercing eye, he didn’t think he could move, let alone spit flames. He tried to ignore the fact that its eye had been inside of its mouth, tried to ignore the way its face split open in fours, like some twisted horror movie beast. Lava stayed in his room for the rest of the day, crying. Honey joined him, unwilling to be comforted by his parents, who smelled of rot and whose hugs had become painfully tight.

Tio was looking thinner by the day, hand his arms now possessed strange markings, oddly straight lines that raced from his palms all the way up his arms, as if splitting them in half. His once vibrant cyan hue dulled to grey, save for the dark blue bands of color that had manifested on his arms. He stumbled when he walked, and he stuttered when he spoke, his eyes foggy and distant. Some days, he forgot to cook for everyone, retiring to his bedroom and slamming the door shut for the rest of the night, or perhaps for several nights in a row.

Blixer’s fur had thickened and darkened until it covered him in an impossibly dark coat of fluff, which seemed to be constantly charged with static, stinging and sparking Honey each time he approached. Blixer’s once tall stature had become slouched, and he seemed to dart around the house, keeping to the shadows instead of speaking to anyone. Honey felt lonely, though he didn’t complain, glad that his parents were still alive and well.

No cough nor sneeze came from either of them, so Honey assumed that they’d fought off whatever was ailing them. He was proud of them for trying their best, after all. He’d long since forgotten what it was like to get three meals a day, or even once a week…

Lava had dared to question their parents, which earned him a “time-out” in the furnace in place of dinner for a week. He was “just a fire demon” and “didn’t really need to eat”, after all. Honey repeated those words like a mantra, assuring himself that, despite how weak he felt, he could just spend his time in the fireplace with Lava, feeding off ashes and cinders.

Honey assumed that his parents were just trying to save food, since they’d been skipping meals, themselves. He tried to ignore how empty the fridge looked, tried to ignore the scent of fresh steak that drifted from the kitchen whenever he was sent to the furnace. Perhaps it was a hallucination, or a mirage of sorts. His eyes filled with tears when he thought of the word, “illusion”, for some reason, so he avoided it, trying to ignore the eyes watching him from the shadows…

Two years in, he remained cheerful. After years of having nothing to do but draw, his artistic skills had grown considerably. He doodled his family, or at least what they’d looked like before the apocalypse. A short, fluffy cyan square instead of a tall, spindly grey one. A tall red circle who always smiled, instead of a shadow who watched from afar and hunched over all the time. Two healthy Hikarlux cubs… and, well, he couldn’t remember the last one clearly, so he just drew a purple blob, hoping to get the message across. He couldn’t find any magnets, so he attempted to weld it to the fridge, like he’d seen his parents welding metal to fix his purple sibling’s bike, long ago. He only succeeded in burning his beloved picture to ashes, beginning to cry for the first time in years. For making a mess and causing a scene, he was sent to the furnace for a full week. He soon forgot purple-sibling had existed, at all…

Honey was a good little cub, he was sure of it. He didn’t speak much anymore, for his voice had grown weaker and more like hissing with each day. He didn’t need to talk, for no one ever listened anymore. He still drew, but his family photos now consisted of two cubs and two monsters, his old life forgotten. He wondered who the shapes in the old photo on the living room wall were. He looked very young in the photo, nothing more than a sparkling, so he figured that he’d just forgotten. Anyone who he’d known before the apocalypse was unimportant, for they were most likely either dead or far, far away from Paradise. Paradise, that was the name of his home, right? He couldn’t remember all that well…

Honey was a good cub, he told himself. He was loved by his family, despite the fact that they didn’t talk to him much. He tried to remember if he was supposed to eat, or if his papa was supposed to be black and white, with eight spindly limbs and wicked claws. He tried to recall if his dad always had dark, static fur and traveled on all fours, eating every last ration they had. A nagging feeling in the back of his head told him otherwise, but he ignored it, happy that his family was okay, after all this time. He’d sneaked into the living room while the news was on, once. According to the funny robot, most shapes in Paradise were dead, if not turned into… Geophages and Doomtryxx. Honey thought the monsters on screen looked slightly familiar, so he told his brother about it. Lava just started crying, before retreating to the fireplace for the rest of the night.

Christmas at the house was more festive that year, for his parents were feeling well enough to decorate for the first time in months. At least, Honey thought they were decorating for the holidays; he couldn’t recall what a proper light display looked like, but he figured that his parents knew, for they were older and wiser. His papa had been a doctor before the apocalypse, so he was very smart. Honey found it thoughtful that his parents had tried to recreate the scenery of winter to replace all the snow days he missed out on, both because of the outbreak and his aversion to water. The entire house was covered in thick webbing, which, after being layered so much, looked less like cobwebs and more like frost. Glowing bulbs full of multicolored liquid were placed on the ceilings and walls, allowing the house to be bright, long after the electricity stopped working. The news had gone away, as did the cartoons, and the television was soon replaced with the largest bulb of all. The bulbs smelled strongly of acid and rot, so Honey stayed far from them. Lava refused to come out of his room anymore. Perhaps he was just tired of the holidays. Honey couldn’t blame him.

Honey must have done something to upset them… he couldn’t remember the last time his parents spoke to or even looked at him. They didn’t get him anything for Christmas or his birthday, and they’d stopped making meals for anyone. He wondered when life would go back to normal, longing for at least one meal a week…

Three years in, the second break in occurred. It was pitch black outside, to the point where even the still-present decorations did little to illuminate the house. The windows had been shattered. He heard screaming, but he was unable to rush to his parents�� aid, as Lava dragged him to the safety of their fire. A massive Geophage had gotten in. It was powerful… and hungry. It had a Doomtryxx with it, a horrific static beast with spindly, batlike wings. They’d trashed the house, searching for food. Honey stayed quiet, sobbing silently. He supposed the beasts had gotten their fill of the last of the food, for they left before morning.

Honey crept out of the fireplace. He began to cry when he didn’t see his parents. Lava stayed quiet, for he knew the truth; the family they knew was long dead. 

A few months later, they found the television. It flickered back on one day, the news having returned to air. The robot was still there, still reporting.

“After years of trying to reach them, the Paradise district of Chorus labs has finally responded to our calls. However, it appears that all of the researchers have perished, and among the casualties, the last to perish were Tio and Blixer Fresh. Due to the lack of survivors, Paradise is scheduled to be quarantined indefinitely to prevent the spread of the virus. None shall enter, none shall leave… ever again.”

Vaguely, Honey wondered if the outside world was real to begin with.

He was nothing more than an extinguished pile of ashes by the time the cure arrived, and Paradise saw the light of day again...

[cxramel-cat]

Possession - Chapter 05

Chapter 01 ◾ Chapter 02 ◾ Chapter 03 ◾ Chapter 04 ◾ Chapter 05  

Other Sites: Archive Of Our Own | Wattpad

( INJUSTICE: GOD AMONG US VERSE ) 「one minute     one life change     one decision     one action 」 ────────── ❝ Why? ❞

The question wavered through Kal’s mind. He threw away the corpse he was holding. His attention settled on the boy who had witnessed his every action. His original plan was to kill the young Bruce Wayne from existing in the future. Joe Chill was making Kal’s job easier. The man was going to do the dirty work for him.

He could change things back, to the way they were supposed to be. No deaths. No betrayal. No Batman.

It had been years since Kal dressed up as a civilian. He preferred appearing in public as Superman. After all, Clark Kent did not exist anymore. However, sometimes, disguising himself as an ordinary human could save him the troubles of being interrupted by the media.

It was an impulse decision. Kal passed by a cafe he used to frequent as Clark Kent, and suddenly, found he’d decided to bring a gift to Bruce. Every child loved desserts, even if they ended by growing into a bitter adult.

Kal took his time in choosing the pastries he wanted to buy. The mere sight of those finely decorated confections and freshly baked donuts reminded him of the child awaiting his return.

Bruce was a fan of pastries. And he loved the desserts of this store in particular. Kal knew because this was o the bakery to which he’d most often came as Clark Kent with the well-known billionaire, Bruce Wayne.

It had happened partly by design, and partially by coincidence. Bruce was a public figure. Thus, it is hard to find a place to have a meal together without causing a scene. This cafe was well-hidden in a less crowded district of Metropolis. Whenever the two of them went in the cafe, there were only ever one or two customers, people who wouldn’t make a fuss upon seeing the billionaire of Gotham appearing in their company. The place had always made Bruce feel comfortable. Not only that, but the man had loved the sinful Devil's Food Cake this restaurant place was known for.

They used to spend a lot of time eating in this cafe. The topics they talked about were always the same: their jobs and missions. Sometimes, it would also drift towards relationships and family.

Kal didn't want to remember those days. Anything that was related towards Batman, the Kryptonian just wanted to forget and let them be buried under his past.

He would replace those bittersweet memories with the wonderful time he was going to spend with the younger Bruce.

When Kal arrived, Bruce was sitting in the corner of the room. The boy was drawing on the paper with the crayons Kal had provided.

Picture books and drawing papers scattered on the floor. It pleased him. This morning, Diana had complained about the messiness of the room. She had also reprimanded Kal for providing Bruce with entertainment.

‘He is our prisoner, Kal. We don't have to keep him entertained.’

No, he isn't our prisoner. Kal wanted to deny Diana's statement. However, he knew his denial would cause the woman to grow suspicious. Thus, Kal had decided to ignore Diana's complaint.

Bruce isn't their prisoner, nor is he a threat; the boy is Kal's trump card in the future to destroy the Insurgency.

"Bruce." Kal sat next to the child. Gently, he pulled the crayon from those tiny fingers. "What are you drawing?"

Bruce tilted his head up. When his crayon is taken, the boy curls his lips into a pout. Kal chuckled at the reaction.

This child is the only person in this world who could frown at Kal without making him angry.

"I'm sorry." Kal tousled Bruce's hair. "I shouldn't have interrupted."

From the corner of his eye, Kal took a glance at Bruce's drawing. There are two stickmen doodled with black hair and smiley faces. One of the stickmen is taller than the other. Bruce had also drawn a red cape with an 'S' symbol on the taller stickman.

"Are you drawing us?" When the child nodded, Kal's smile grew wider. "How sweet of you, Bruce. Thank you."

It had been three months since he’d brought Bruce into this timeline. There was nothing strange happening towards the child. However, Bruce was deeply traumatized by the gunshot incident. Kal had received reports from his lead psychologist--the boy had been diagnosed with PTSD. His obvious separation anxiety identified as symptomatic of a deeper social or generalized anxiety disorder--- which answered why he was extremely clingy towards Kal.

The best child psychologists Kal could find all said the same thing: it could take months or even years for Bruce to recover. Decades.

Or never.

But none of that mattered to Kal.

Let him be desperate for my existence, He thought. Then he will never leave me. He will always stay by my side.

Batman was still haunted by the memories of his dead parents even in his mid-thirties. The man never walked out of his trauma; he had just learned how to cope with his mental illness by dressing as a bat vigilante and taking out his frustrations on the petty criminals in Gotham.

Kal would not let this child turn into the Batman he’d become once before Kal knew what he could do to make sure the boy could walk out of the darkness which would...which could swallow him one day. He just needed to make Bruce happy and keep him close to his side.

"Look what I brought home for you, Bruce." Kal gave the nicely wrapped box to the child. Upon seeing the gift, Bruce stopped pouting.

There are fruit tarts in the box. Freshly baked and decorated with sliced fruits, wafting the sweet scent of butter. Shiny and sweet.

The sight of the desert reminded Bruce of his butler. Suddenly, the boy realized that someone was worried about him. He hadn’t gone home for months, and he wondered if Alfred was searching for him.

'Starting from today, Alfred is part of our family.'

Bruce remembered how his father introduced the British man into his life. He might be their butler, but Alfred was always taking care of Bruce while his parents weren't around.

Alfred played with him, taught him table manners and read storybooks to him. The man is family, and Bruce felt guilty for forgetting about him.

"You are picking out your vegetables again, young Master Bruce."

The child tensed up at hearing the stern call. Slowly, Bruce looked over his shoulder, meeting Alfred's gaze.

"This is an order from Master Thomas, young Master. If you do not finish your vegetables, I cannot let you leave the dining table." The butler said with a sigh. "Please eat your broccoli, young Master. Or else, I might have to sneak some into the bread and cookies I bake.”

"But I hate it!" the child whined. His lips pursed into a pout. "It tastes bitter and clumpy! I won't eat it!" He threw down his fork and crossed his arms.

Alfred shook his head as he picked up the dropped fork. "If you don't eat your broccoli, I will have to forbid you from getting any dessert after this."

Bruce's scowl softened into pure shock. The boy's expression could break hearts. Bruce's bottled up frustration had vanished because of Alfred's words. Now, it was replaced with crushing regret.

"N-No cookies?"

"I am afraid so," Alfred replied, taking the plate. "I just baked a batch of chocolate-chip cookies filled with macadamia nuts. Unfortunately, you can't have a taste of it."

Hastily, Bruce tugged on Alfred's sleeve. "W-Wait! I’ll eat the broccoli! So please let me have my dessert..."

Alfred placed the plate down. "You have three minutes to finish them, young Master." Looking up at the grandfather clock, the butler began to silently count.

Bruce took a deep breath and began to bite into the broccoli. He chewed the vegetable with an appropriately disgusted face and sounds. When the last piece was stuffed into his mouth, the child drank down a glass of water in gulps to wash away the taste.

Now, the plate was clean. Alfred gave a satisfied nod to Bruce and took the plate away. Then, the butler came back with a basket filled with the promised cookies.

“ A man should always keep his bargains. Here you are, then.”

The child's face was painted in delight as Alfred handed one of the still-warm cookies to him. Taking a careful, neat bite, Bruce smiled in happiness.

Calloused fingers ran through his hair as Alfred patted his head. "I'm very proud of you, young Master Bruce."

"I heard from the nurse that you’ve been picking out your vegetables. That is not good manners, Bruce."

Kal tried to make his statement sound stern. He had plans of looking angry. But it was obliterated by the change in Bruce's expression. A  stiff chuckle escaped Kal’s lips.

Bruce pursed his lips. His brow furrowed, showing dissatisfaction. Kal couldn't stop himself from pinching the child's cheek lightly.

How could someone be so adorable that it melted his steel heart?

"Do you not like the meals prepared? I can tell the chef to make changes in the food, but you will still have to eat your vegetables."

Bruce shook his head. The meals didn’t bother him. They tasted normal. But something was missing. And Bruce knew what was lacking in the meals.

They tasted nothing like Alfred's cooking.

"I... miss my butler's cooking," Bruce confessed. "The food doesn’t taste the same in here, and I am starting to miss him. I haven't seen him in a long time."

The child looked up from the box of desserts and towards Kal. "After Mom and Dad, Alfred is the only family for me. And I... miss him badly..."

The look of sorrow intensified on Bruce's face. Kal's heart made a little twist when he saw the tears which formed in the boy's eyes.

"Would it make you happy...If I bring him to you?"

Bruce looked at Kal in disbelief.  Seeing the sincerity in the adult's gaze, the boy nodded. Bruce's eyes remained teary, but now, there was hope glimmering in them.

He trusted Kal wholeheartedly. The man never broke his promises.

"Would you finally smile for me? Will your crying stop?"

Kal craved the smile - the youthful, innocent and bright smile of the child. He had only seen it in the picture and Bruce had never smiled like that at him.

He didn't blame the child for being unhappy. The Regime members didn't like Bruce, and Kal could feel it too. It angered him because he had assured them that Bruce was harmless.

No one seemed to believe him.

Kal didn't want Bruce to turn bitter. He wanted his Bruce to look up at him and love him. He wanted the affection and loyalty which he couldn't get from the Batman who’d betrayed him.

"Kal ...?" Bruce lightly tugged Kal's pants. "Can you really bring Alfred to me?"

"It depends." Kal brushed his hand through Bruce's hair. "I could do it, only if you trust me, Bruce. For the sake of your happiness, I don't mind searching through the whole world for your happiness."

"I trust you!" The child's reply was instant. " Because you are my hero, Kal!"

Hero.

It had been a long time since someone called Kal as a hero. It sounded strange when it came from Bruce. But it still managed to make Kal smile.

"Thank you for trusting me. The fact that you believe I am your hero, it also makes me happy." Kal gently cupped Bruce's cheeks. His thumbs wiped the tears away. "Now, dry up your nose and enjoy the pastries. I promise to bring your family back by the time it is dinner. Okay?"

"Promise?"

"I promise."

To Bruce, this was an agreement of letting him reunite with his only family. But it was different for Kal. The Kryptonian saw the promise as a vow to always protect the boy's purity and adoration towards himself.

Alfred Pennyworth was preparing dinner when he heard a sonic bomb. The butler tensed up. He didn't have the time to progress what had just happened as a red-caped figure landed in front of him.

The symbolic crest 'S' is too familiar for the man to forget about the horror brought by the superhuman towards his family.

"Alfred Pennyworth," the name rolled off of Kal's tongue. A sinister smile curled on the corner of the Kryptonian's lips. "I have a request for you."

Before Alfred could press down the security button, Kal zoomed in. At the next second, everyone turned dark for the butler.

When Alfred regained his consciousness, he was facing a white cement floor. There was a pang of pain at the back of his head. Something tugged his wrist when he tried to lift his hand. Upon inspection, the man found metal shackles encircling both of his wrists.

"Mister Pennyworth, it is good to see you awake."

Alfred tensed at the cold, familiar voice. When he looked up, he saw Kal-El standing in front of him. The Kryptonian was smiling slyly at him.

Kal sat in front of Alfred. His eyes looked straight at the butler.

"Let's make a deal." His words were simple. Alfred could sense something dark in the Kryptonian's tone.

"Do I even have the right to say no?"

Kal stifled a laugh at the question. "Of course you have, Mister Pennyworth. But, I am sure you won't say so." The Kryptonian said it with confidence, which caused Alfred to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"You see, I adopted a child recently. He requested your company. And I couldn't resist a request from that kid. So, I decided to hire you as my babysitter."

Many questions bubbled up in Alfred's mind. He didn't understand the reason why Kal isn't killing him. To make the situation more confusing, who was this child which Kal adopted and requested his care?

Alfred didn't realize how long they had been walking. However, he could sense that Kal didn't want the others to notice his movement. The Kryptonian was glancing back and forth to make sure no one saw him. But then, suddenly, he stopped in front of a door.

"Uncuff him," Kal ordered to the guard. It made Alfred even more confused as the Kryptonian fixed his collar.

"We don't want our little guest to get scared at the sight of you being dragged around like a dog on the leash." From his pocket, Kal took out a pair of digital bracelets. He cuffed them on Alfred's wrists.

"However, this is a reminder that you shouldn't, in any way, attempt  to escape."

Kal tugged down Alfred's sleeves, covering the cuffs. Then, he gave a sinister smile. "You won't want to lose your hands, right?"

Alfred ignored the menacing question. There are no advantages in trying to fight back against Kal. Especially when his own life was being threatened. At this moment, Alfred is more curious about the child he is going to meet.

Kal turned over to let the sensor device scan through his feature. With his identity confirmed, the door slid open.

The child sat on the floor playing with his toy. He looked up.

And at that moment, Alfred's heart skipped a beat.

In the beginning, the child could barely recognize the elderly man in front of him. Alfred looked older than Bruce remembered. But the boy brushed his confusion away. The fact that Kal had really achieved his promise, it made a smile light on Bruce's face. He dropped the toy in hand, then ran forward and wrapped his arms around his butler's legs.

"Alfred! I am so happy to see you!"

The elderly man hesitated to return the embrace. He wondered if this was a sick trick which Kal decided to play on him. He wondered if he was hallucinating under the effects of some drugs.

But, he knew this was real.

The child who crushed him in an embrace had a heart which beat rapidly. He also had a smile as pure and real as the boy Alfred had raised up. Alfred could also recognize the beautiful pair of blue eyes, inherited from the Wayne bloodline.

Everything was too real.

Reluctantly, Alfred wrapped his arms around the child's smaller figure, returning the hug. However, as the child made himself comfortable in his arms, Alfred turned his gaze towards Kal.

How could you? What are you planning to do?

The questions wavered in Alfred's eyes. Kal ignored the glare as he turned his attention towards Bruce.

It’s the first time  Bruce has smiled. Kal couldn't be more proud of himself.

"I told you, didn't I?" He pinched the child's cheek lightly. "I told you I would fulfill your dream. I never break promises, Bruce."

Alfred tried to keep Bruce away from Kal's hold. It was impossible—when the child loosened his grasp from Alfred, he welcomed Kal's affection with a tight embrace.

"Thank you, Kal!" Bruce buried his face in the Kryptonian's throat. His arms wrapped tight around Kal's neck and he couldn't stop his wide smile.

This is what he had been wanting.

Bruce smiling from the bottom of his heart. Bruce showing his adoration towards him. Bruce displaying his affection towards him without any attempt at rejection.

"As long as you are happy, I am more than thankful for it." Kal tousled the child's hair.

How was it possible to fall in love with someone so easily?

He should not be capable of having such feeling. Especially not after Lois's death. Kal had thought the part of his soul was destroyed forever.

It had only been a few months since Bruce came into his life. Still, every moment had burned itself in his memory.

The loneliness and desolation in Bruce's eyes when they met matched his own feelings. The terror when he took the boy back from the alleyways that night. The surprise and relief when the boy realized Kal wasn’t abandoning him.

Kal also remembered seeing Bruce's reassurance whenever he came back.

He had so many plans to make the boy smile again. He would do anything to see Bruce laugh like the innocent he once was. He would never let the boy become the dark vigilante he was today.

This time, he had made things right.

To be continued.

[thejaf711]

Toast and Ice

“Shit,” exclaimed Yang. She’d been in Mistral in the same place as her family for several days, but ultimately had been unable to get restful sleep. Everything was perfect for her to sleep: heavy blanket, cool room, even a cooling cup of tea on her nightstand. Regardless, sleep evaded the blonde huntress

The room around her provided little entertainment with its white walls and wood floors. The walls had plenty of paintings, though, but she had studied them countless times in her boredom. The ficus in the corner needed watering and the bookshelf needed dusting. Am i that bored? Yang thought. Pulling her scroll up to her face, she squinted as the brightness caught her. 2:30. Slightly past half the night and hours before most people are up. Even at 9:00, she is usually the first out of rooms to get the day started.

Unsure of who this house belonged to, she did not want to train in the middle of the night as she had in the past on restless nights in fear of breaking something, but instead sat on the edge of her bed. But one can only sit on their bed on sleeplessness for so long, she surmised. Having never ventured out of her room at night before now, her curiosity was getting the better of her.

Her stomach growled. Despite the large dinner they had had the night before, she was starving. Damn metabolism. She got up and put on a long brown robe over her sleepwear. Not her usual colour but it matched her brown pajama pants and orange sports bra. Closing her robe, she opened the door to the outside.

The long halls only got longer at night. Twenty feet felt like a hundred. Stepping gingerly as to not make a peep, she crept towards the kitchen. Growing up around her light sleeping father and sister gave her the skill of stealth out of necessity. Whether she chose to use it outside the home was up in the air.

Reaching the living room, she began to lessen her stealth and move a little faster. After all she was at least fifty feet from any bedroom at this point. A lamp flipped on next to one of the couches, bringing Yang into defensive position with fists up and feet apart.

“You’re up at a weird time,” said a small girl in all white even at this hour. Yang relaxed. Weiss’ hair was down and she was holding a steaming mug of coffee.

Yang breathed a sigh of relief. “I could say the same for you. And coffee? Aren’t you afraid you’ll melt drinking that stuff like you do?”

Weiss huffed. “I’m not actually made of ice you know.”

“I know, that’s why it’s fun to tease you about it,” Yang said sticking her tongue out. “Laugh all you want, but this focuses me. Gives me a reason to keep going.”

“Most people refer to that as caffeine addiction.” Yang moved to sit next to her teammate.

Weiss’ expression softened. “Had a lot of days where i had to drink a lot of coffee to keep up with my dad’s intensive training. Now this stuff doesn’t do anything, no matter how strong i make it.”

“I’m sorry, Weiss.”

“Don’t be. Means i don’t have to worry about not sleeping because of this.” Weiss shifted to see her teammate better on the couch.

“What kept you up tonight?” Asked Yang.

“Ozpin gave us quite the information overload a couple days ago. Also that whole being kidnapped thing got to me a bit.”

“Fair enough,” yang said changing her expression. Her mom had done this as much as anything. Yang reminded herself to pay Raven back for this new trauma one day.

“I’m ok though. Just tired but not tired you know. What about you?” Weiss sipped her coffee

“Tired but not tired. A little hungry too. A lot overwhelmed. Mostly ready for all this grimmshit to be over with. And you know Ruby’s going to need years of counselling when all this is over.” Weiss giggled. Regardless if it was a joke or not, Yang’s tone and almost dismissal of that inevitably was humourous.  Yang giggled in return. She wondered if Weiss had picked up on her projection.

“We all will without a doubt.” Weiss took a long gulp from her coffee. “I borrowed a little something from Qrow if you want some.” She held up a bottle of Mistral rye.

“You know we probably shouldn’t.” Yang reached for the bottle and took a sip.

“After the shit we’ve been through, i think they’ll give us a pass.” Weiss took the bottle and poured some in her coffee before passing the bottle back.

Yang smiled after another swig. It was smooth whiskey. She understood why Qrow was fond of it. “Weiss,” she said before pausing

“Hmm” weiss replyed.

“I just wanted to say thank you. You know for listening to me the last few days. Just being there means a lot.” Yang chugged a shots worth of rye to finish her sentence.

“I didn’t know booze softened you up so fast,” Weiss teased. “If i’d known i’d given it to you last year.” The two girls giggled and Yang gave weiss a lite punch in the arm. “You know i love you right?”

“Note to self give the Ice Queen whiskey to melt her a bit.” They laughed harder this time, still keeping their noise level down as not to disturb the others. “I love you too, girl. Don’t ever leave me again, ok?”

A tear welled up in Weiss’ eye. “I won’t.” She smiled.

“You hungry too? All i really want is some toast. Pretty sure that’s all we have left anyways.”

“I’d like that.” The teammates smiled. Yang picked up the bottle and carried it over to the kitchen with her to get the bread out. Taking several swigs in the process, Yang pulled out the butter and put the bread in the toaster. Weiss sat at the bar with her coffee. “Your face is getting a little red.”

“Empty stomach. This stuff is gonna hit me like an ursa if i don’t eat something.” Weiss giggled. “ What is it?” Yang asked with a smile

“Never thought i’d see one of my teammates get tipsy before.”

“First time for everything, sweetheart.” The toast popped up suddenly, startling the two girls. They both laughed after they composed themselves.

As she buttered the toast, Yang’s expression changed. “You know i used to do this for Ruby every morning. Before school when we were kids, and even on weekends. Ruby is a great fighter, especially when she has to fight to cook anything.” They laughed. Weiss had gathered that Ruby was not the domestic type. “I loved doing this though.” She sighed.

“You ok? I know i’ve asked you this before. Can you give me a straight answer this time?” Weiss frowned as she took the bottle from yang for a swig.

“Yeah i can. I have no idea where my future is. Is it here with ruby forever or will i go off and get in big adventures? Will i become the next Qrow and be an alcoholic just getting by because of his immense skill? I don’t know.” Weiss sipped her coffee with a frown. “I tell you what i do know though,” Yang began, “we’re going to keep on going and i’m going to protect my sister and you no matter what.”

“That’s admirably. You have a lot to be proud of yourself for,” weiss said smiling. Yang handed her a freshly buttered piece of toast. Breaking it in half, weiss took a bite.

“Klein used to make toast for me and Winter sometimes. Father said it was poor people food but the simplicity made it desirable.” Yang felt the wave of nostalgia that hit her teammate. “I miss him. Between Father and Shitley i often wondered if they were the only ones who cared.”

“What about your mother?”

“Willow Schnee developed a bad habit or two.”

“Yeah good ol Tiayang Xiao Long isn’t known to be the most responsible. Losing two wives was difficult for him. He left the alcoholism to Qrow but he had plenty of destructive habits. His irresponsibility never got us in too much trouble but sometimes things got a little tight. We never worried though. Dad always knew what to do in the end.” Yang smiled. “He got this arm for me afterall.”

Weiss knew not to ask about the arm, touchy subject as it was. She took another bite of toast after a swig of whiskey. “It must have been an adjustment.”

“Dad helped a lot. He did what he could. A lot of it’s up in my head is all.” Weiss frowned. The problem ran deeper than her teammate’s head; weiss had seen her hand shake. Weiss couldn’t force recovery though.

“If you say so,” were the only words Weiss could get out.

“I’d ask you what you meant by that but i think the whiskey would talk too much. Since you made toast, how about 0i make one too.” Weiss picked up her mug and Yang her bottle, giggling at the Ice Queen’s pun. “To new beginnings?” Yang cheered.

“To new beginnings and decent sleep.” The clinked their respective receptacles together.

“I can drink to that.” Yang took a glass from the fridge and poured a shot, downing it almost immediately. “What time is it?”

“Probably close to 3:30 or so. I stopped checking the time a while ago.” Weiss had an idea. “You know we might sleep better if we can cuddle or something.” Yang raised an eyebrow. “It’s the same principle as having a teddy bear, just the other is living and breathing rather than stuffed and inanimate.”

“You know i think i’ll take you up on that offer. I could use the company. You must finally be feeling tired?” Yang said with a yawn.

“Yeah this rye is working as intended.” Weiss yawned in return. “Take another shot and let’s go. Might as well try for six hours before before Ruby wakes us up.”

“Agreed.” Yang finished her toast and took a double shot. “Want one?” Weiss nodded and Yang poured her a double. Weiss drank it with a grimace, eliciting a giggle from Yang. “A little much?”

“No no it’s fine. Not used to shots is all.” Weiss stood up and wobbled a little. “Sorry. Lightweight.”

Yang giggled again. “I was too. Too many nights sneaking Qrow’s alcohol for that now.”

“Oh and you were the one who said we probably shouldn’t. Yang Xiao Long for shame.” They both shrugged and laughed. “Come on let’s try to sleep.”

“Your room or mine?”

“Your room has a bigger bed to accommodate your hair,” Weiss said with a teasing smile.

“Hey my hair is majestic. Besides you’re one to talk yours goes past your butt.” Weiss laughed. The whiskey had turned them into giggling messes. The bottle had been full before the girls had gotten to it but now it was almost empty. “A little artificial relaxation was not necessary but definitely welcomed tonight. Thank you, Weiss.”

“You’re welcome, Yang.” She turned to her teammate and embraced her, wrapping her arms around the much larger girl’s waist. Yang wrapped her arms around Weiss’ shoulders. For once, yang felt she could be truly happy.

After their hug, they moved to Yang’s room and found the bed in the dark. Climbing into it, they cuddled next to each other. “Good night, Weiss” yang said as she kissed her teammate on the forehead.

Weiss beamed as she snuggled into her teammate’s arms. “Good night, Yang.” She reached up and returned the kiss. She immediately closed her eyes and snuggled closer.

Yang smiled as she felt her teammate get comfortable. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, wrapping her arm around Weiss. Yang was surprised at how warm how warm she was. She’s like a little space heater, Yang thought. Smiling one last time, she succumbed to sleep.

[ruined-rp]

Derek Hale Sample App

OUT OF CHARACTER:

Name: Admin Kitty Pronouns: She/Her Age: 27  Timezone/Country: Australia - GMT+10/AEST Triggers: Rape, trypophobia, clowns, insects Activity Level: 5-6, I own my own business and am currently caring for my grandmother as she’s very ill but I’m around on mobile constantly and am quite regular with my replies! How Did You Hear About Us: I am the creator of all things Ruined :p

Anything Else?: I am so excited for this RP to start! The Code: N/A

DESIRED CHARACTER:

Desired Character: The one and only Derek Hale. Why This Character?: The first ever male muse I ever wrote is Dean Winchester- and he still holds a very special place in my heart but when I connected with Derek Hale, it was like a whole new world opened itself up to me. He is my ultimate muse, the one I have written the most, the one I have written the longest... the one I will return to, time and time again because writing Derek is like coming home. Any FC Changes?: Never in a million years Ships/Anti-ships: He’s a bleeding heart, especially for the women. Even after all the hurt he’s suffered by their hands, he’s still a sucker for a damsel in distress but, I will go where the chemistry and development leads, every time. It also has to make sense to his plot and character type, for example; I would never pitch Kate with Derek unless it was flash backs showing their relationship before the fire.  Headcanons: 

TATTOOS: Derek has a triple spiral or triskelion on his back. It is three spirals connected together.The triskelion is an ancient symbol and whilst it has many, many meanings, to Derek , the symbol stands for the three types of werewolves - Alpha, Beta and Omega. He says it reminds him that while we can rise we can also fall, a Beta becoming an Alpha or an Alpha falling back down to Omega status.It’s also in my opinion an ode to his heritage. The symbol represents his family, almost like a family/pack crest. He has the symbol on Laura’s grave, also in his home and further, it’s the symbol on the tokens given to the Hale Children by Talia to help them with their transitions and to learn control. Derek also has a full sleeve down his left arm that covers the top of his hand- the entire depiction is an ode to the moon and his wolf. He also has a small crescent moon tattooed on the inside of his right wrist.

CRESCENT: Like all of the Hale’s and Labonair’s, Derek has a birth mark of a crescent moon. His is on the inside of his left ankle, whereas Hayley’s is on the back of her shoulder. It’s what ultimately lead to Hayley’s discovery and the one thing that sets their families apart from the rest of the Crescent legacies. The birthmark is what gives a wolf the right to become Alpha of the Crescent Wolf Pack, should their time ever come... something that isn’t always a blessing or a right of passage.

FAVOURITE THINGS: Derek has a thing for Winter too but there is something so special about Autumn. It’s natures way of preparing for change, of shedding the old after a brilliant array of colour and beauty ready for a new cycle. The colours that surrounded his loft and the home he grew up in felt like a warm hug from the earth. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud...He’s also an exceptionally good cook. There’s something so therapeutic about being in the kitchen, making something by his hand. He’s great at any handy-work style task but making good food for his pack and watching the joy on their faces as they sit around the logs and a freshly stoked fire eating whatever he’d prepared for them is one of his favourite traditions. Please Provide At Least One: You can find it all here  → [xxxx]

CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE:

How Does Your Character Feel About The Peace Treaty?: It was his family that helped established the Peace Treaty but frankly, his thoughts on it are a lot like believing in God. You do, until something goes wrong and then you don’t. After the loss of his family, he wasn’t sure he could stomach the idea of living in Peace with the very people who destroyed him but the Hales and his pack have lived in New Orleans for centuries, have built a refuge here… if signing a treaty fortified their position in this town? Then so be it. Though, he is no fool. Peace is only ever temporary, and when it all falls apart… he is ready. His pack is prepared. Slice of Life: Derek is a simple man, with simple habits. Sleep, clean, wank, plot vengeance, exercise, cook, repeat. He lives his life one day at a time, and tries not to break the norm of his routine, because at this point in his life routine is all he had. It’s what kept him going day by day in his methodical existence.One of his most important habits is his exercise. He works out at least two hours every single day. A wolf in his position has to stay fit, after all. His routine consists of cardio + calisthenics. It allows his stamina and endurance to peak and it was what kept him so light on his toes, almost always guaranteeing the upper hand in any fight when combining that with the fact that he was an alpha. When he’s not training himself, he’s training the Pack- especially Scott and Hayley, who need him the most right now. On occasion, he’ll head to Auggie’s or Rousseau’s and blow off a little steam. Things are calm right now, and Derek is relishing in it whilst he can because he knows that it’s a false sense of security, literally the calm before the storm. With each day, the Nemeton grows stronger and it’ll take every none of them to stop it. What is Your Character’s Greatest Fear? How Does This Affect Your Character?: He’s lived it. Over and over again, Derek has come face to face with his worst fear of that decade and somehow survived. He’s lost every one he’s ever loved or cared for in any capacity. Felt the pain and anguish of life. He fears for the safety of NOLA and those who still look up to him for guidance and protection but at the same time, he’s broken- so yeah, the fear is still there, but it’s dormant. No longer the driving force of his actions.

SAMPLE:

“Dreams are excursions into the limbo of things, a semi deliverance from the human prison.”

The near full moons light illuminated the restless body of the alpha, reflecting against the light sheen of a cold sweat on his naked skin as he tossed and turned under the sheets that threatened to suffocate him. The recurring dream Derek had each night since the tragic events that affected the course of his life forever was yet again plaguing his mind; only tonight it was different…where he was normally thrown awake in terror, there was something pulling him deeper, sucking him further into the memory.

His feet were moving so fast, were he not a wolf he’d have tumbled face first. His heart beat so violently against his throat Derek feared he was going to choke on it. Panic was all consuming as branches whipped against him, cutting his skin and piercing his soul. How could he have been so stupid? Trusting Kate was going to have an affect on his life like he could never imagine…

His mind flashed to the house, the sky ahead now black in the midst of the night, the moon tucked away behind the dense trees surrounding his family home, the stars a beautiful contrast to the horror below them. The screams had begun, the blood curdling cries of those who shared his blood, locked in the basement and too far gone for him to save…  The pain in his chest threatening to break him open.

Suddenly, his view shifted, he was running again only now that view was lower, his body morphed into his wolf form. The pain a little less, a dull ache in the back of his mind overcome by his animal instincts as he hunted his prey through the forest. With a shift in his sleep he pounced on the deer he had been stalking, his teeth sinking into the warm furry flesh as he ravaged the animal the way his past ravaged him.  

Blood dripping from his fangs as he finally pulled away, satiated. Sitting back on his haunches his muzzle lifted to the night sky as a howl erupted from deep in his chest before taking off again. Constantly running, barely living…a half life, a life of fur deep emotions and animal meat for sustenance…

The alpha didn’t know how to pull himself out, the dreams getting increasingly more real as he lived his past trauma, playing out the last two years of his life mentally….only it wasn’t just the recent trauma he was seeing….The scene shifted to a younger version oh himself, the child with human eyes standing over the slowly fading body of his first love. His mother had told him it was mere puppy love, the hearts desire of a teenager swirling in his own hormones but he constantly denied it… how could something so pitiful feel so real? How could it end so fast, at his own hands, no less?

Sinking to his knees, tears choking him as he reached trembling hands out to grasp the skin getting colder and colder underneath his touch. “I’m sorry, Paige…I’m so sorry” He knew it had to end, Peter having left her crippled, the damage irreversible. “It’s ok, Derek-” her voice was faint as it escaped her soft lips, her eyes fluttering closed one final time as he snapped her neck needing the end to be as quick and painless as possible…even though his own heart shattered into a million pieces…

With a sideways slam, Derek was back on his knees among the rubble that was once his family, his home, his life. Ash streaked his clothes as his hands closed around the bones of his parents, attempting to lift the fragile bones only for them to disintegrate to dust, blowing away in the wind as a scream erupted from his lips. All the heartbreak he’d ever felt in his life coming out in the night, lost to the universe as he was lost to himself…

The night continued, the alpha trapped in a dream world, forced to relive all the mistakes he had made throughout his life. The lives taken because of him and his actions, the pain he suppressed from his own determination to carry on….for what? What was the point, when all he ever touched seemed to die. Something was keeping Derek under and he fought to get out, his hands turned to claws as he absent mindedly raked them through the air, through his sheets, through his own skin. Blood pooling around his unconscious body as his consciousness continued to be assaulted by his own wrongdoing.

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This was written for a prompt  that I was in and very fond of. It consisted of characters being forced into a lucid dream they couldn’t escape and is one of my favourite Derek pieces. I thought it a great way to introduce Derek to Ruined. <3 Please note, when providing your own sample, it needs to either be specific to your character in this RP or from a blog proving you own the original work.