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stormxpadme · 2 years

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Whumptober 2022 No. 18 - “Just get it over with.”

2020

"You're beautiful like this, you know."

Usually, when Raven was attacked from out of nowhere outside her city and woke up in some far-off deserted woods, pinned to the frozen bark of some broad tree with razor-sharp blades through both her shoulders? She would have expected the person responsible to turn out either a certain Westchester resident or one of the millions of humans she'd managed to piss off in her lifetime. Opening her eyes with a pained groan, only to lay eyes at no other than her own flesh and blood – that was a new low even for this already shitty decade. Her first instincts to pull what looked like actual, swear-to-God rapiers from her body, morph the worst of bleedings close and bash the asshole's face in was all stopped short the moment she felt the broad metal band around her neck, saw a lazy red blink on it from the corner of her eye, along with this disgusting white color of her slave shape, the blonde, short curls of which were blowing around her face in that same cutting winter storm that had her tremble against the painful restraints in spite of her thick coat. Inhibitor. Where the fuck had this guy who'd hardly been able to keep himself alive on his own when they'd last met and fled from all drama of mutant world first chance he'd got, a fucking inhibitor? This … got weirder by the second. "What …?"

"Of course, you're beautiful when you're blue, too." Kurt didn't even let her speak, not in the mood to listen to any of her – in this condition admittedly pretty weak attempts at – manipulations this time. He wrapped his tail a little tighter around himself at where he was watching her, perched on the branch of some pine tree opposite her, a mirthless grin revealing his pointed teeth. "You ever think how unfair it is that He gave you so much perfection both as a human and as a mutant? And yet you chose to be such a soulless bitch inside."

“Just get it over with.” Raven had no idea what had happened to that guy or why he thought he had to come to piss her off after all these decades, but she found herself increasingly disinterested. Let him come close enough for her to wrap her legs around his thin neck and break it clean, sure. Afterward, she could look for the key for that damn collar in his clothes or just wait for one of her people to track her down out here. Judging by her, safe for her wounds, still comparably stable condition, she didn't think more than a few hours had passed, the sun just beginning to set behind these woods so far from any civilization. They'd come to find her if she wasn't in by nightfall. She wasn't about to spend that time with moral lectures on top of a week's worth of an annoying healing. "Come on, Wagner, save us both some time. I'm sure you have another one of these ridiculous little butter knives somewhere under that coat. Little late in the year for the Halloween pirate look, by the way."

"I didn’t come to kill you."

"Could have fooled me." Raven nodded down on those holes in her shoulders and winced a little because that movement definitely wasn't a good idea right now. Oh, she would rip that bastard open the moment he got close enough.

He probably knew that, because he didn't make a single move to approach her, just crossed his legs on that branch in a little balance act reminding her of those tricks she'd seen him do back then when she'd come to watch him from afar in his circus a couple of times. "You should work on your charm. Then people wouldn't have to choose such drastic measures to get you to listen."

"Three lovers and two girlfriends say, I'm charming enough," she retorted, just to see him wince but had to suppress one of her own then because in spite of her body being half numb with coldness, those spots that kept on spreading rusty red all over her expensive clothes were really starting to burn and throb now. Keeping her focus became harder by the second, with the blood loss starting to attack her strength reserves. Maybe she needed at least to try and be nice long enough to Jack Sparrow-guy to be sure she could indeed get out of here in time. "So do people who drop by my home and ask. You know, nicely."

"We're done with nice," Kurt said as if the whole running her through with swords and kidnapping her hadn't been enough of a hint. "Were, ever since you tossed me in a river as a baby to safe your skin, if you need to know."

Huh. Well, someone had run into a couple of people who apparently were dying for Raven to cut their damn tongues out. "What, you want an apology? Have you met me?"

"You lied to me." His eyes were flashing a bright yellow of deep hurt and anger, a snarl escaping his lips as if that was seriously the worst thing he could have come to blame her for here. Thinking about it, about him and how she'd got to know the kid, it probably was.

She let out a harsh laugh, breathing through the pain raging through her arms once more when her chest was heaving. "I lie to everyone. Why should you be so special?"

"Because I'm your fucking son?!" When Raven only raised a bored, biding brow at him, Kurt rolled his eyes and finally jumped from his high ground. "Or how about that: Without me, you would have no idea about what's coming until your city is razed to the ground."

Now they were talking. The startled rush of adrenaline even chased away that disgusting weakness of agony from her mind instantly. Raven didn't think Kurt was trying to bullshit her, mostly because doubted the kid was actually physically able to. And that meant she had to get back home even faster now and raise up all defenses, no matter if it was someone in Westchester throwing a hissy fit over the Brotherhood's existence once more, the government changing their mind about their immunity or possibly Frost having escaped her cryo prism. None of those any option that would make her day any better. Thinking about it, having another highly skilled helper by her side in such an unpleasant situation might actually be welcome for once, no matter how much they hated each other's guts. "If you care about that place so much, you could have come by earlier."

"And lead my pursuer right to your city, after all that you went through to hide it from the public? Don’t think so. Not that I could give a shit about you and your bunch of murdering perverts there getting your asses kicked but there are children and thousands of innocents there."

Well, or maybe not. Cooperation with someone who was apparently still hung up over one little misstep against one of Kurt's old friends with the X-Men, an ugly crime of someone who'd not even been part of Raven's team anymore at that point? Not worth the headache. "We can defend ourselves. No matter against whom."

"Even against Azazel?" Kurt nodded grimly when Mystique's eyes went wide and she gasped, her first instinct to try and free herself from these blades before another, far more capable attack from behind could possibly happen, immediately resurfacing.

She forced herself to keep still just to not give Kurt the satisfaction, trying to get her racing thoughts under control. Damnit, and here she'd been certain she'd heard the last of that issue. "So you know. He found you?"

Kurt grimaced with even more disgust than he was harboring for her which was an achievement all by itself, she guessed, and leaned back against the tree he'd been sitting on, wisely still keeping away. "Something like that. Wasn’t particularly looking for me but every one that his rotten seed produced in the last few decades. He wants to use all his spawns to conquer the world."

Well, about time. The last apocalypse had gone down almost two years ago. Maybe not a bad moment to look into these mutant space stations that a couple of people Raven hated with all her heart but could suck up to if she really needed to, were building right now. "How’s that my problem?"

Kurt took an exaggerated look north. "Anyone else in your city who fucked a demon lately?"

"Again, you're in the wrong place if you're looking for an apology, kid." Now that she knew what she had to prepare for, Mystique's patience with the conversation was growing even thinner.

"How about atonement for once then? I could point you to the right office." Kurt demonstratively played with the small silver cross he was wearing around his neck. "Works even when you're not asking, by the way. If you get your shit together for once and use your powers for something useful. Like preventing father from killing off every one among our kind not worthy in his eyes. Everyone who can blend in, everyone without marks and features. Those, he'll weed out first before he'll enslave humanity and kill everyone in his way."

"Still not my problem, as long as I got no people around me insisting on robbing me of my powers." Raven squinted at this hated human shape of hers again.

"About 80 % of your city's population won't be so lucky," Kurt reminded her just a tad too quietly, his demonstrative harshness and indifference to her own starting to wane. Try as he might, he couldn't hide that somewhere in that damn bleeding heart of his, he was still trying to see her as something she was not, no matter how often he got disappointed. It was almost charming. "You're gonna rule Morlocks next for a lack of option?"

"I won't have to. He's not strong enough. The number of his people is far too small, always was." Raven put it on her less than ideal condition that the too fast, too shrill tone in her voice sounded a lot like she was trying to convince herself mostly, something that had never worked out since she'd left this period of her life behind if she was being honest with herself for once.

"Stop bluffing." That unbelievably sad smile on Kurt's lips did nothing to soothe that slightly unsettling clench of her guts at every attempt of consideration as to how to fend off this new catastrophe and far too many of those calculations ending with quite an unsatisfying number indeed. Yeah, definitely not a bad time to invest in plans for a space shuttle. "Or have you never met his army in person? Were you too busy getting his clothes off him back then to actually care what and who he …?" He paused his new series of insults, his eyes widening when he saw something in hers he hadn't expected. Something she'd rather have liked to keep buried in the suppressed depths of her subconsciousness herself, firmly convinced that she'd never have to deal with it again as long as she kept her distance from the underworld. "No, that's not it at all, is it? You've been there. He brought you and you couldn't deal with it. That's why you never went back to him though he could have given you so much more power than Magneto was ever capable of. You're afraid because his power set and all of his followers' are perfectly crafted to beat yours."

"Unlike Erik, I always had a pretty realistic estimation of things that are bigger than me," Raven admitted reluctantly because if Azazel got his hands on him, Kurt would have learned certain details anyway. "Why do you think I gave up New York? What I'm doing up here?"

"Hiding." It wasn't anywhere near to a reproach and certainly not the mocking that others would have spat that depressing word out with. Being in alliance with certain arch-enemies of hers, Raven doubted it had bothered Kurt a lot when the Brotherhood had significantly scaled down their former global aims regarding their rule. He'd always had that unnerving habit of trying to keep her safe, even now when he'd come to annoy her a bit by cutting through easily mended muscle tissue and warn her about the probably deadliest threat in her life since that damn firebird had last decided to stop by at Milky Way. "You knew he'd come once we were rid of Phoenix for good. She was the one obstacle he couldn't get by. You're not one. Not alone. So you walled yourself in and closed your eyes."

"Bold of someone to say who went under for 20 years." She couldn't help but actually smile for a moment. Probably the tiredness and increasing heaviness in her body and mind. Fuck, she needed to get out of here.

A slight velvet tint to Kurt's surprisingly smooth skin revealed Raven had actually landed a hit for once, all without reaching for a gun or a blade on her own. "I needed to be alone after the Inferno. Little spiritual crisis, I guess."

"Never could have guessed," she remarked with another look at that stupid 18th-century coat and the outlines of more daggers she could make out under it. "That’s why you ditched the tattoos, too? You look surprisingly fresh for a 50-year-old, by the way."

"Not doing so badly for pushing hundred yourself." He managed a friendlier grin this time and finally brought himself to approach, albeit still too far from her to get her legs on him … And maybe the need for that had vanished anyway. "I got half his blood, and you regenerate. I don't think either of us will be granted the release of long sleep soon. And as for those …" He absently ran his fingertips over his cheek where those ridiculous marks had used to be. "Turns out, having spiritual crises includes a lot of sin. Ran out of skin, and the first ones faded, so I didn't really see a point in renewing. Besides …" He pulled down the collar of his trenchcoat and shirt for a moment, revealing a lot more hair on his chest than was normal. "Yeah, that's a thing that started to happen since I spent time in his dimension to find out what he's up to. It's spreading. My body is not done yet with combining your guys' powers into weird things."

"You're the beautiful one," Raven said honestly because apparently she was already running a fever from infections and she tended to get chatty when she was compromised but also, it was simply true.

She'd fucked up more often in her life than she allowed herself to admit, but deciding to leave this seed of her own to develop in its own way hadn't been one of her mistakes. Now that he was no longer hiding behind some made-up morals …

Maybe there was hope for this worst-case scenario regarding Azazel that she'd feared for so long after all. And if not, she could still buy that ticket to the next best inhabitable spot outside this galaxy. "And stronger than he is because you have purpose and a compass instead of just hunger. I appreciate the warning, kid, but somehow, I'm not worried we'll be in trouble once you're through with whatever crusade you're planning. If you still want to call it that after ditching that whole priest cosplay, of course."

"I don't need a white collar to have faith or do the right thing." Kurt unexpectedly teleported himself right in front of her and ripped both his weapons out of her body, too fast to even think about reacting or trying to defend herself when she didn't need to, because he caught her before she could even fall, her senses failing her for a moment. When she came about to fully again, he'd got her halfway out of her coat and was busy, wrapping firm bandages he'd cut from his shirt around her shoulders because of course he would.

"You realize that's brave of you, trusting me not to kill you after you just made holes in me, right?" she murmured over her shoulder, without even half the energy she'd have needed to actually try and stab someone through the chest with one of her one weapons who could vanish in the blink of an eye anyway. In fact, before she could even move an arm that was hurting far too much to even think about that right now. No need for that as long as she wasn't threatened again. Not to mention, fileting a potential new ally would have been exceptionally stupid. Or maybe all these explanations were really just boiling down to the one big excuse that she didn't want the boy dead.

"You can't," Kurt stated with the same faith he had in his God for some reason, and annoyingly enough, she thought he might be right. "Same the other way round. I came to warn you and I did. The rest is up to you. If you really think you'll be safe from him in your little ice fortress forever after you tried to kill his first heir right after birth, no one can help you."

"Is that what you want? Help? For us to work together?" Maybe recruiting a new partner wouldn't be half as difficult as expected.

"It's what I always wanted. But I'm not selling my soul for it and I'm not forcing anyone." The last knot into place he got up quicker than she could, not entirely happy obviously to trust her all the way yet, which was healthier for him, too. "Keep north. One of your peoples' sleds is nearby already."

"Where are you going?" That goodbye suddenly came a lot faster than expected.

Kurt snorted and wrapped himself in his own trench coat again. "Since when do you care?"

"I don’t." It was a lie so blatantly transparent, it was almost shameful. "But if you’re right and he comes to find me before you can take him out, he becomes our problem. I need a way to let you know."

"I’ll get a mobile and mail you my number." He silently grinned to himself, and she somehow had a funny feeling he knew exactly, she wasn't just aiming for a reluctant one-time mission here. But after she'd ignored and made him wait for all his life, it was probably just fair for him to turn the tables on her now.

Didn't mean she'd make that easy for him. "Settle down," she interrupted him once again when he already raised his hand in a brief gesture of goodbye.

"Where?" His expression suddenly seemed very tired, very hopeless. "Do you not know he leeches on to his heirs? I can only 'port with at least one blade out in the open lest he could always be there in his Dimension to hop onto my back when I pass by. I can't risk taking him to anyone I create bonds with."

"Then go somewhere where he gets his ass kicked when he does. Where they can protect you." Yes. Definitely the fever talking. Raven leaned her head back against the tree she'd just been pinned to with a groan about her own sentimentalities. If she'd had the choice, she'd taken the boy somewhere else entirely but there were some things that even her city with all the powers residing within couldn't protect itself and others from.

"That's not what I do. I'm a shepherd." He crossed his arms stubbornly again but couldn't hide that faint longing in his voice completely. 20 years of running were too long.

"A shepherd. Right." Raven had to try hard not to use her knife on the guy, after all, just to cut that stupid cross off him. "You're haunted by literal demons and still think, Catholics got the right version of the story?"

"I don't." For a moment he was that lost, stumbling boy again that Xavier had taken in back then to turn him into one of his idealistic bootlickers, staring at a sky where at most, death in the shape of hostile foreigners and crazy alien bitches were waiting but surely no protection, his mind, focus, and defenses wide open. He might have got a shiny new look and learned how to fence and curse, but that guy definitely still needed a lot of training. "But their version is based on the right principles. And it's comforting."

Mystique would have given a lot for a couple of painkiller injections right now so she could at least move again without feeling like blacking out, for something as simple as approaching that suddenly very young-looking figure, do as much as put a hand on his shoulder. With the blood loss not anywhere near repaired yet, the cell reconstruction arduous and slow, a hot bath with healing herbs and a couple of good duels in the arena to watch was exactly what she could use to clear her mind of all weakness tonight. But first, she needed to make sure, Kurt would start actually getting ready for what would probably soon befall both of them. "If you want to serve some God, become what you think he's made you into once you learned the world isn't half as kind as you. A warrior for your cause."

He refused fiercely but it looked more and more stubborn and less convinced. "I can't risk that as long as I have a tail that's not half as awesome as mine."

"There's a place where that doesn't matter. They got what I can't provide you with. Telepaths. They can shield your mind so it's safe from his tracking spells. Might even make sure you can 'port again without watching your back, with time. And then you're more than welcome with us."

Kurt's grin was growing again with every of Raven's most reluctant words, every of her shudders just at the thought that she might be ending up having to call Summers' condescending ass regularly from now on to make sure no one was fucking with her kid. "Are you seriously sending me to your sworn enemies?"

"I'm doing what I should have when you were born," she gave back through gritted teeth. "Making sure you got a home. And a place where I can send an Uber to when I got a demon knocking on my door."

"I think I’ll stick to 'porting." He straightened himself again and nodded towards her with something that looked at least like a basic amount of respect, getting ready to leave once more.

"Next time you 'port here, do it without a pair of rapiers in my shoulder or you might up with a knife somewhere where it really hurts yourself." A last warning she just still had to give him because one thing Azazel and her shared was their temper. Next time she would know what to look out for in an attack from mid-air.

"No promises." Kurt showed her all of his teeth, gleefully. "The inhibitor key is frozen in that knothole behind you, by the way. I'm sure you can find a way to melt it."

"I think I liked priest-you better," Mystique grumbled.

"Actual demon child, you know." He showed her a perfect little bow, ironic through and through. "That's on you. Could have used contraception."

Raven flipped him off before he finally vanished, leaving nothing but a faint yellow dust of brimstone, but she did it with a smile.

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@whumptober | @whumptober-archive

#no.18 #“Just get it over with.”#x men #fic #everything after x2 didn't happen sue me #x men original timeline movies #nightcrawler #mystique #stormys fanfics #my undying love for the movies doesn't entirely cover up brooding catholic guilt kurt #so watch me turning him into the actual demonchild comic version #long post #whumptober2022 #whumptober 2022

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a-schwarzung · 1 year

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Why should I?

Notes: Ok this is my first TB fic, and also my first fic ever written in english, an since it is not my first language I apologize in advance for any grammatical or spelling mistake I probably comitted.I had no time to look for a beta reader, if I ever write again, I'll make sure to find one.

This is specially dedicated to Pikacheeka, for being such a wonderful writer and a very special person I really admire and appreciate even if I'm not so close to her. I hope you like it, and I hope this is not as bad as I think it is. I'm a very simple writer, but nevertehless it was written for you and because of you, since your fics made me love this couple.

He folded the newspaper, parting his lips slightly, allowing a sigh to escape from his thin lips. Suddenly that uncomfortable feeling of loneliness appalled him. Standing up, he walked to the window trying to lose his mind as his sight followed the possible route the demonchild of his had taken hours ago. He had not paid attention to Dietrich's farewell at all.

Why? Isaak could not really tell. He only knew that being together was dangerous in those moments for both of them, but especially for him. Dietrich had seemed to be in perfect control the last time they had discussed. The memory gave him a bitter sensation, provoking him to look unconsciously for a cigarette in the inner pocket of his coat. He slowly lighted the cigarette being caressed by his fingers, taking it to his lips in an almost apprehensive manner. The smoke filled his lungs until the need for oxygen forced him to open his mouth, the air replaced the smoke little by little while his eyes were half closed picturing the perfect image of Dietrich yelling to him. He had wanted to silence him, to slap him; but his patience had been more than he had expected.

He hated being alone. Years ago he had been abandoned by his loved one and madness had continuously menaced him. Even then he was not sure if he had been stronger than insanity. However, salvation had come days after that future priest had left him. He found a god, his decadent and dying god, but nevertheless his. So if Cain was still there, why was Isaak felling again abandoned as a lost child? The answer was simple, back then his eyes hadn't met the owner of that soft auburn hair, creamy skin and chocolate deep eyes.

A second sigh abandoned his lips. Irritated, the man, if he could be named so, got away from the window to wander all over the room until that unsettling sensation of loneliness stopped him. The mere word was driving him mad, piercing his mind every second. Finally, he decided to go to his room with the first bottle of liquor his hand found, cursing in low voice Cain because he was the reason of his current state. But that was a lie, the sharp pain from last night and the coldness of his last moments with Dietrich were all caused by himself. However, Cain doings on the matter could not be denied.

He walked to the empty bedroom. His eyes were closed as he let the subtle scent of his sweet sin fill his being. He remembered how they were sitting in the living room; Dietrich and Cain were playing poker, while he was resting in the sofa. Suddenly the silence was broken by Cain, who was getting bored because he was losing.

“Dietrich, would you like to go on a mission to Albion?”

His voice was soft as usual, but there was something in his tone that discomforted Isaak, and he was right. His words brought him grief.

The boy raised his sight from the pair of cards he was still folding, and then he slowly showed his five cards with complacence, three queens and two kings. Dietrich smiled pleased, he always enjoyed being over Isaak and Cain, feeling pleasure in proving he was more than a mere child. Not even his naming as a high ranking official had satisfied his necessity for being acknowledged.

“So, are you taking this mission or not Marionettenspieler?”

The icy reply from Cain accentuated Dietrich's smile, nonetheless his manners were educated and his question was prove that now he was taking the matter seriously.

“Who's coming with me?”

“Nobody, if you leave, you'll do it by yourself. This will be your first individual mission.”

Those brown eyes shone for a moment before his face became the perfect mask of indifference, his lips curled slightly before looking in Isaak's direction. The mage was trying to convince himself that Cain was not serious. Dietrich was twelve, but sometimes he felt as if the little genius was not ready to be by himself, or maybe he just found detestable the idea of being without the boy for more than a few hours.

Apparently Cain knew this as well because he turned his head to face Isaak, smiling at him in a sweet and fake way which sickened Isaak the most. Both were looking at him, one of them asking in silence for his opinion, while the other was daring the mage to oppose him. Isaak gave Cain a disgusted look before turning around. When he was close to the door he remembered Dietrich was still waiting.

“You should go, after all you're not a child anymore, are you?”

Isaak did not wait for an answer, prefering to be alone he went to the studio while he tried to control his growing anger towards Cain, who had planned that mission without him. His anger was also directed to Dietrich for being as stupid as to believe in their leader. Things were never simple with Cain, and they were usually anything but what they seemed to be.

He carelessly closed the door behind him before taking a glass from a table, pouring the amber liquor while muttering for himself something about being tired. His body collapsed on the chair, trying to drift away from his own conscience. The feeling of two arms wrapping around his neck brought him abruptly to reality. His eyes opened immediately, but when he tried to turn around the weight of the person hugging him prevented him from doing so.

"What do you want? I already told you, you're free to part. So leave me alone."

Ignoring Isaak's comment the boy behind him smiled against the cold and hard skin of his protector's neck. A chill crossed his back, but Isaak kept his cool façade and he moved slightly, trying not to have a fight with Dietrich. He was going to part to Albion, most surely in a dangerous mission that Cain had planned. His liege was eager to test Dietrich without caring about the possible consequences. Such situation mortified Isaak to the point of exasperation, since he could do nothing, not being able or willing.

"Do you love me?"

Those words distracted him from his musings. He wasn't sure if he had heard correctly, a part of him wanted to believe his mind was playing a trick on him. Suddenly he realized it was not really a question but a statement softened by the pretension of being a question. Isaak knew Dietrich too well to understand that his protégé was not really interested in an answer, or so he thought, so when he heard that childish voice again, he was perturbed.

"Do you love me?"

His voice was still low, but a certain note of anxiety could be distinguished in it, as if the boy was almost pleading for a sign, for an indicative that he was precious to the man he was holding in his arms, clinging to him as if he were his lifeline. Suddenly the proximity of their bodies bothered Isaak, who stood up pushing the boy hastily. He didn't want to admit it, but those last days he had done his best to keep away from the youngster, knowing perfectly that if he was to reach for him, he would never let go. "I will hold him tightly... To the point of suffocation.." He kept telling to himself each time he thought about Dietrich. Isaak was thinking so intensely that he didn't notice the glossy appearance of those brown eyes he adored so much.

"Why?"

Isaak blinked as he heard the question, facing the boy then. He frowned, not understanding anything at all. He could not explain why Dietrich was more sensitive and gloomy than before. After a few seconds os utter silence Dietrich's eyes started to burn with something similar to hatred. Isaak smiled, his little child was angry.

"Why? Why must it be him and not me?" He hissed while getting closer to Isaak with his fists clenched.

"He doesn't deserve it, he sees you as a mere servant, a toy which he can throw away any time soon. You don't love him, you only crave for him, and your lust drives you mad about him. I dare you to deny you love me and that I'm the one suited to be your lover."

"Stop saying nonsense you little brat" Isaak was panicking, that striking honesty from Dietrich was the last thing he had expected. "You know nothing about me or my relationship with Cain. You might feel that you're old enough and mature but you are only a mere child, a ridiculously jealous child. How could I ever love you?"

His words were harsh, but he couldn't care less about it, he had to turn Dietrich down because giving him a chance would have been the end of it. He needed distance, the sole presence of the child was intoxicating him to the core. But before he could reach the door the reason of his anxiety was there, getting between the end of his despair and him.

Those young lips were impossibly soft. He had always compared them to rosebuds, but finding the comparison too clichéd, he had pushed it to the depths of his mind. Now that kiss was meant to be his most bittersweet memory, proving that they were not only inviting but also sweet. The contact lasted only some seconds, as the mage pushed the boy away almost immediately.

He gave the boy a glacial look before slapping him. Dietrich's face reflected his anger, his lips curled in a cryptic expression lingering between cruelty and suffering.

"When are you going to accept that I've grown up? What do I have to do? Do you expect me to be taken to a brothel so a whore can take my virginity? Is that so, father? I've heard that at Mme Clochard's there is all kind of exotic beauties who could please even the finest tastes."

Now Dietrich was being pitiless. Isaak had spit on his candid demonstration of love, so there was no reason to be nice anymore. It didn't matter if he wanted to cry, if he wanted to tell him that he could never part from his side, that even if Isaak was to throw him away, he would always come back, knocking the door and demanding to be received until being accepted again. However, Isaak had been offended by those questions and showed his inability to answer properly,which provoked his anger. He couldn't understand why Dietrich thought he could speak to him in that way.

"What could I expect? Do you want so much to lose your virginity?"

Isaak forced him to sit on the table, retiring the belt with one swift movement. His gaze met Dietrich's, only to find him shocked. He could even tell the child was frightened. A dull smile crossed his lips before he separated from the young one. The mage walk to the door, placing his hand on the knob.

"Prepare your luggage, you're parting tomorrow."

"But Cain said…"

"This is not about Cain or the mission, you're parting to Lutèce(1). Since you're so eager to meet Mme Clochard and her brothel, you'll be there for a week. Do you want to lose your virginity to prove me you're a man? Then do it."

He had not seen the boy after that, he would have wavered about his decision. Dietrich was not meant to be his, or so he believed. That was why he decided to exile his precious child, who was far too young and innocent. Dietrich would always believe he was worse than he actually was. So if Dietrich was to be tainted, he wouldn't do it first.

His head rested on the pillow for a moment before he opened his eyes again, by that moment Dietrich surely wasn't as inexperienced as he used to. And he was feeling worthless, but it didn't matter anymore, the only thing that mattered was that he hadn't been able to answer that simple question. But Isaak knew perfeclty well that truth was rarely pure and never simple.

Why?

The word kept haunting him unceasingly. His right hand moved to his temples, rubbing them slightly without any comforting effect. Suddenly he remembered some lines from a book he had read long ago, which described his current thoughts.

"How can so much beauty hide such a bruised and steely heart, and why must I love him, why must I lean in my weariness upon his irresistible yet indomitable strength? Is he not the wizened funereal spirit of a dead man in a child's clothes?"(2)

He whispered the words softly, their bitter taste sipping into his soul. He hadn't answer, and most probably, he would never do. But maybe it was not too late to call Mme Clochard. Notes: 1 Name given by the Romans to nowadays Paris. 2 The vampire Armand by Anne Rice

#yaoi fanfiction #trinity blood fanfic #Isaak von Kampfer/Dietrich von Lohengrin #isaak von kampfer #dietrich von lohengrin #cain nightlord #pre-slash #english fanfic

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