[HAIKYUU!!] Season 2 episode 21
I just realized hinata tried to block that shit
OMG IT'S OUT, I THOUGHT THIS WAS GONNA CHANGE THE TIDE HOLY SHIT. That made me so fuckin nervous
LMAO i almost feel bad for oikawa. Don't worry, your bf's got u handled
"I bet he's gonna be pretty quick on his feet" no shit kage, did you not see wat he did last round??
Ofc mad dog respects iwa, he has to babysit the playboy child constantly lol. Honestly watching that interaction feels like a child picking favorites with his parents HSKSHK
COME ON ASAHI! Fuck- it's ok buddy! Shake it off!
Oh? Both 1st serves are out! Damn interesting start to 2nd set
Oh shit! MAD DOG'S PLAYING FR THIS TIME! wait why's he coming from the side- HOLY SHIT! I forget that you can actually technically play out of the court a lil as long as the ball doesn't drop
Shit seijo's taking the lead on this set... Lol yeah turnip-head, even I figured it out
Oh shit- A COLLISION! Mad dog's going to be the cause of one of these guys going to the nurse i swear
HHHH come on crows, ya gotta get a point. Oh, well, we take those ig lol
FU- THEY FELL FOR IT SHIT! His hunger to hit the ball is so strong he make a good decoy... Almost like hinata
"how about we make those fangs of yours even sharper" uh oh, oikawa's in scheming mode now
OMG FINALLY THEY GOT A POINT!
LMAO everyone's reactions, they're all wondering just wtf is up with this tennis ball head dude
Fuck another sharp spike- oh nvm then
If noya's having trouble with receiving a spike like that, then you know it's strong af
Ya know i noticed that a lot of the points karasuno's getting are mostly from aoba johsai messing up, which is ok we take those, but I wanna see my crows make their own points
LET'S GO NOYA! Fu- oikawa's being smart nooo. God, oikawa such a good setter and just an overall strategist
13-11 jesus why tf are they so close, it's giving me anxiety
Damn i don't understand a single thing about these hand signals they be doing, but i think its just neat
OMG ARE THEY GONNA DO IT?! BACKROW ATTACK!? HELL YEAH- FUCK, NO! Goddammit oikawa stop being so smart
Oh?? Coach watcha planning? Gonna try having 2 setters on the field?
... I still don't get it even with the exposition hsksh, not smart enough to understand big words. All i got, was that Suga's gonna help take the win, and I'm here for it
Uh oh, oikawa's eyes are serious-serious, this serve's actually gonna land this time. OK NEVERMIND IT WAS OUT, but it's getting better and better and I don't like that
AAA THAT WAS CLOSE! YES TANAKA! Another point!
GSAP OMG, DOUBLE SETTERS IN PLAY, I'm so curious how this is gonna go
OOOH SUGA YOU SMART MOTHERFUCKER! LET'S FUCKING GO!! Keep it going! Don't let mad dog up!
OMG OMG SETTER SWITCH, SETTER SWITCH! HELL YEAH KAGEYAMA, NICE KILL!!
Ok but, hinata just being there in the background between the setter stare off is just hilarious LMAO
Ah shit, ofc that tactic wasn't gonna work for long. Nooo, Suga's gone now, but he made such a good impact for the time he was there
Ya now, I'm starting to recognize the reused animations for certain scenes, like oikawa setting or a ball getting received. Not complaining, it's to be expected
HHHHH fuck karasuno needs a good clutch rn, but idk what other strategy or weapon they could use
Fuck! It's ok hinata, even I fell for it
HOLY SHIT THE SERVING ANIMATION WTF
HHHH oh fuck, how the hell is karasuno gonna win this set...
GSAP OMG OMG, YAMA'S GONNA PLAY, AND HE LOOKS CONFIDENT TOO AAAA
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it’s lizard kissin’ tuesday.... and we have done a Mean Thing. Sky @shorter-than-her-tbr-pile is responsible for the initial concept and a LOT of this besides.
No More Changes (I’ll Still Love You The Same)
[ao3] [chapter 2] [chapter 3] [chapter 4] [chapter 5]
Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast
Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla
Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla, The Keep
Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin' Tuesday, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, (tho not THIS chapter certainly), Curses, human!arum, (but not... because he WANTS to be), (it ain't good y'all), Panic Attacks, Overstimulation, Rilla Is Queen Of Comfort, Damien Does Not Consider The Consequences Of His Words, (tho that's not relevant until next chapter...)
Summary: Lord Arum and his Keep have fought off curses before, but they have never dealt with one quite like this. They have never dealt with a curse while having a couple of humans around to help them, either... though it remains to be seen exactly how helpful Arum's lovers will be, in the effort of restoring him.
Notes: We made ourselves sad. Now we are subjecting y'all to the sad. Am I sorry? ..... a little actually, yeah. I promise we'll make it better eventually tho. @shorter-than-her-tbr-pile, thank you SO much for throwing this concept at me and letting me just go berserk about it. I love you!!! Thank you for writing this with me!!! <3 Work title from the song Pristine, by Snail Mail. Chapter title from the song Human, by Dodie.
Chapter 1 - Paint Me In Trust
~
It is instantaneous. Like a bolt of lightning.
Arum doesn't scream, not exactly. He inhales, sharp and shocked, and when he exhales it sounds as if he's being punched in the stomach, and he collapses to the ground, half-buried in his cape.
"Arum-" Rilla drops her recorder. Doesn't even notice it fall to the floor of the greenhouse as she sprints to the side of the lizard, going to her knees when she's close enough, but when she reaches to turn him onto his side to get a better look-
He feels wrong.
Soft. He feels soft. She pushes the cape aside, and when she rolls Arum onto his back, she finds a panting, glassy-eyed human groaning softly into the folds of the cloth.
"What-" Rilla says blankly, and the human winces, curling into a tighter ball and making a choking sort of noise. "Who-"
"A-Ama-" he chokes, a hand lifting clumsily to press at his throat. "Amaryllis-" he manages, and Rilla loses her own breath.
"Oh Saints," Rilla says faintly. "Arum?"
"What-" he tries again, and his voice is pitched so low that she almost doesn't hear how horribly ordinary it sounds. Soft. No rattle, no roughness to speak of. "Amaryllis, I- I can't-" he presses up on one arm (Rilla can only see two), but he slips, and she only barely catches him before he smacks his face into the dirt.
"Arum, I need you to breathe," she says, halfway on automatic. First steps. Baseline, while her brain races to try to understand exactly what just happened. "Keep," Rilla calls, voice understandably strained. "Keep, do you know what just- what that was?"
There is a pause, and Arum-the-human breathes short strained breaths in her arms, his muscles twitching and jerking. The Keep- sings vaguely, a song that sounds off key with itself. Uncertain, confused.
That song, that wavering, it seems to startle Arum to some sort of coherency, and he tilts his head back, squinting at the ceiling, and Rilla realizes with a sick jolt that his eyes, his human eyes, they aren't purple. They are without color entirely, pale and gray, set in a face that looks vaguely familiar but wrong, like a building remembered from childhood, with walls torn down and reconstructed past the point of recognition.
"Keep?" he asks, his new smooth-soft voice wavering uncertainly, and the Keep fails to answer right away a second time. It sings, after a long moment, and Arum's new unscaled brow furrows, his breath hitching. "Keep. Keep, I can't- speak again. I command you to-"
It sings again, and Rilla recognizes the lilt of desperation in the notes.
"Keep, I can't-" he pauses, snapping his jaw shut, and then he winces at that and presses his hand to his jaw for a clumsy moment before he lifts the hand further, his palm flexing in front of his horrified face. "What- what-"
"Breathe," Rilla says again, and Arum sucks in a breath as he lifts his other hand, and then he twists against her, his back arching just slightly, and she realizes that he's trying to move his other arms. The ones that aren't there, anymore.
"I-" he says, and then he looks up at her, pale gray eyes wide and damp at the corners. "I can't-" he lifts his hands, clumsy as they try to grip her shoulders, and she pulls him to sitting so he isn't entirely on the cold dirt, and his breaths come faster and sharper as he says, "Amaryllis I can't hear your heart-"
He's incoherent after that, for a while. Rilla nearly screams in the effort of getting the Keep to understand her, to get it to focus for long enough to open a portal to Arum's room so she can carry him (easily, Saints but this human body is slight), lift him into her arms while he just clings and hyperventilates until she can set him down in familiar sheets.
Arum keeps brushing his hands over his own skin and wincing, keeps twisting and flinching away from the sheets when he touches them, and Rilla knows overstimulation when she sees it and honestly there's a logic to that, isn't there? Arum has spent his entire life in scales, and he’s nowhere close to unfeeling, his scales are plenty sensitive in their own right but it's different from human skin and now he's- he's human, and-
She keeps trying to make her mind wrap around that. Trying to make it make sense. It doesn't, obviously.
Regardless of sense, it's true. Arum is, currently and uncomfortably, human. With smooth dark skin and grey eyes and dark hair that falls down around his shoulders in unkempt waves, with nearly a full foot of height stolen from him somewhere.
She shakes her head. Situation at hand, Rilla. One problem at a time. He's overstimulated, terrified if the look in his eyes is anything to go by. She climbs up onto the bed beside him, and when he turns his panicked eyes towards her she tries a grim, sturdy little smile, and then she carefully, gently pulls him into an embrace, arranging him so that his head is resting on her collarbone.
"Just breathe," she whispers. "Try to breathe with me, okay? I know you're scared, and that's- honestly that's totally fair, but right now you have to calm down or you're gonna make yourself ill or make yourself pass out. Just- focus on my breathing, and try to make yourself slow down enough to breathe with me."
His body presses into hers, his hands alternately squeezing her and fluttering away when the contact gets too much, but after a moment he goes still, and his breathing hitches instead of slowing.
"Hey," she says softly. "Hey, please Arum, you've gotta-"
"I can- I can hear your heart now. I- you need be this close? Amaryllis I feel- my ears and tongue and eyes and nose have been dulled by half and half again, how- how-"
"Oh," Rilla says, and she wonders if he can hear the way that makes her heart stumble with sympathy, with fear. "Oh sweetheart I'm sorry, but you have to- oh Arum-"
He clenches his jaw, clinging tighter against her, pressing his ear over her heart and pressing his eyes defiantly closed, but she can feel his shoulders shaking, can see the tracks of tears running down his face.
"Even this," he hisses miserably. "I don't- is it- is this why the poet is always-" he stops to shake for a moment. "I can't make this stop-"
"I know, sweetheart," she says in a whisper, and she tries not to follow right behind him into shaking, into weeping. "I've got you, I've got you." She doesn't tell him to breathe again. She merely rubs her hands as softly as she can on his back, holds him against her and lets him hear her steady, steady heart. She hums, and holds him, and lets his tears play out.
It takes a little while. That makes sense, too; it’s not as if Arum has much practice holding back tears like this.
“I- I’m- I apologize, Amaryllis," Arum mutters eventually, when he has managed at last to match his breathing to Rilla's, murmuring the words into the skin of her throat. "That was-” his mouth twists miserably, mortification clear on his face.
“Don’t. Arum, this is- I mean, as far as I know this is fairly unprecedented,” she says with a wry frown. “It’s a perfectly reasonable response to have.”
“Nevertheless,” he mutters, and then he pulls himself reluctantly away from her skin, sitting with a wince. He lifts his arms again, scowling as he looks down on overly soft, clear skin, on stubby fingers with blunt nails.
“So,” Rilla says, matter-of-fact. “This is magic, obviously.”
“Obviously,” he grumbles.
“And obviously, you know more about that than I do,” she says, a long-suffering sort of admission. “So, do you have any idea what could cause something like this? Any clues, any suspicions, any suspects?”
“Punishment.”
Rilla blinks. “Punishment?”
He sighs, winces, reaches a hand up to touch his own cheek. “Working for the Senate- I never should have put myself into that position. They have- they have safeguards to prevent betrayal.”
“And you didn’t think this was worth mentioning before now?” Rilla asks incredulously.
“I have been… since the Terminus, since us, the Keep and I have been layering defenses, magical and otherwise. While the Senate scrambled to recover after the loss of their weapon- I thought- I hoped I would have enough time. I hoped that I would be unimportant enough to them to slip through the cracks, but-” he winces, his hand pressing against his throat for a moment and his eyes going distant and uncertain, and then he works his jaw awkwardly before he mutters, “I sound… so strange.”
“You were layering defenses,” Rilla redirects gently, softly touching his shoulder, hoping she can draw him back before the distress overwhelms him again. “How do you think this- whatever this is. How did it get through?”
Arum ducks his head. “I… the Keep and I… we focused our efforts mainly upon the swamp itself, and the Keep.”
“What,” Rilla says, voice blank with horror. “What about you, you idiot?”
“The Keep is more important,” he hisses, his eyes slipping closed. “Protecting it is my purpose, Amaryllis. If it dies, so too does this entire swamp. And so too would I, as well. It is not entirely unselfish. If the Keep dies, everything here dies with it. If I die…” he shrugs. “I would rather not, obviously, but if I die, the Keep survives. It produces another familiar, and it continues to create and nurture life and magic in this place.”
“Rather not,” Rilla says faintly. “Arum-”
“It is not a choice I enjoy making, but it is an easy choice, in the end.”
Rilla hates that a part of her understands his logic. Most of her, though, is furious that he would discount himself that way. “Next time maybe try protecting both, jackass,” she says, her voice wavering.
He smiles, grim and strange. “Next time,” he echoes.
“So,” Rilla says, shaking her head and clearing her throat. “So. It’s probably the Senate, or someone working for them,” she says. “That’s a good theory, and I think it’s safe to run with it. So, why this? Why turn you into a human? Why not just-”
“Kill me?” He laughs. “I am certain some would have preferred that. But there is a certain… rationale to this. A clear message in the execution. I have aligned myself with humans, yes? This is all to say that if I would join them, I may do it properly.”
Rilla feels her stomach twist. “You think they know about us?” she asks, her voice low.
“Doubtful,” he says with a sigh. “Not the two of you specifically, at least. But they are aware that I was responsible for the destruction of the Hermit, they are aware that I was not cast off the edge of the world, and they are aware of… rumors.”
“Rumors.”
He glances to her, his entire expression gone soft and open. “Of a human claiming, quite publicly, to love me.”
Her heart plummets. It must show on her face, because Arum blinks in surprise and reaches a clumsy hand up to touch her shoulder.
“Amaryllis-”
“This is because- because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut? Saints I’m so-” she clenches her teeth, “stupid, Arum I’m-”
“Hush,” Arum says, frowning. “Don’t be foolish. This is not your fault, no more than it is the fault of a certain knight for failing to kill me. There are rumors of that, as well, you know. The fault lies solely with whoever concocted this spiteful little scheme.”
“Still,” Rilla says, her brow furrowed. “Still. If it contributed-”
“Hush,” he says again, the hand on her shoulder squeezing gently. “You did not do this to me.”
“No,” she says with a sigh, and then she straightens, her eyes taking on a determined glint as she pulls Arum’s hand into her own. “No, but I’m gonna be the one who helps you fix it.”
Arum’s expression falls again, open and raw, and Rilla’s heart clenches for all the ways he clearly does not know how to hide his feelings in this body.
“Y-yes,” he says, his voice wavering.
“If someone did this,” Rilla says with a scowl, “we can undo it.”
He stares at her for a moment, grateful, surprised, hopeful, and then tears roll over Arum’s cheeks again, and he swipes at his face with his jaw clenched hard as Rilla makes a small noise, pulling him close.
"The lot of you creatures can't possibly feel this way at every moment,” he mutters viciously, struggling in the effort to push back the tears, to control the shaking in his voice. “As if- as if every touch is scalding and sharp, as if you can only half interpret the world, all sense sliced to unsatisfactory fractions. As if you are but a breath from breaking at all moments. You cannot possibly feel this way."
“No,” Rilla says softly. “No, I think that’s- that’s just by comparison. Your senses are a hell of a lot keener than ours, and your scales provide a lot more natural protection. If I got suddenly put in a body like yours, I bet I’d be overwhelmed by all the new noises and smells and sights, and I’d feel like my sense of touch got all wrapped up in cotton or dipped in wax. It’d be distressing in just the opposite way.”
That makes… a certain amount of sense. Arum grumbles under his breath and winces when the noise is not accompanied by the usual growl. It feels as if someone reached into his throat and replaced his own vocal chords with some foreign flute. Not that that particular point is the worst of this, but it is distracting.
“Shit,” Rilla says softly, and Arum blinks and focuses back on her.
“What?”
“I was supposed to-” she sighs. “I have to go send an entire frickin’ flock of pigeons, now. I don’t have time to deal with my regular appointments while we’re busy fixing this.”
Arum’s heart lurches in two completely different directions at once, both grateful that she would put her work, her healing aside temporarily for him, and simultaneously wracked with nerves at the idea that she is going to leave him alone in this state, even for a little while. He swallows roughly.
She’s too perceptive for his own good, though. She notices the look on his face, and when she smiles softly he wishes he could growl at the sympathy in her eyes. He frowns instead, hoping it carries some measure of his ire.
“I won’t be long,” she says softly. “I just need to send some messages and gather some materials and notes that might be handy. Tell you what, though- Damien should be getting out of his meeting soon and he was already planning on springing a surprise visit today-” she pauses to grin a little more playfully. “Ruined the surprise on that one, but I’m sure the both of you will forgive me. Anyway, he’s free for the rest of the day, so I’ll give him the rundown and he can come through and help you out for a bit while I’m taking care of the unavoidable stuff. Sound fair?”
Arum wrinkles his strange short nose, seething that she would imply he requires help-
But he does need some measure of help, actually. Loathe as he is to admit it. He can barely manage to stand without his tail, with his legs so short and oddly bent. And Amaryllis has done very much in their time together, to help him understand that she and Damien will not judge him for this. That they want to help, when he so needs. And it is still... difficult, but Arum is trying. If ever he had no choice but to be vulnerable, now is that time. At least the universe is kind enough to bring him so low while he has such bright creatures to hold him and help him. Small miracles within such a nightmare.
He sighs, curling his arms awkwardly around his knees. “Very well, Amaryllis.”
“I won’t be long,” she says again as she slips from the bed, and then she leans back down and presses a kiss to his brow. It feels so much more vivid, the pressure more intense but less warm, on skin rather than scales. “Try to rest in the meantime, though, okay?”
“Rest,” Arum mutters derisively. “As if I can go cavorting with these malformed limbs-”
“Your body went through one hell of a shock,” she barrels on, pretending as if she didn’t even hear him. “I don’t want you to strain yourself any more than strictly necessary. Okay?”
He grumbles again, but she looks down at him sternly, her hands on her hips.
“Okay, Arum?”
He narrows his eyes at her, and his face feels hot. “Yes, doctor,” he mutters, but then he leans towards her in the familiar way, an unspoken request.
Her frown softens, and she bends to embrace him gently and press another kiss to his cheek, and before she pulls away she murmurs, “We’ll fix this. Whatever it takes.”
His throat is tight and hot and horrible for a moment, but he nods. “Whatever it takes,” he echoes, and then he allows her to settle the blankets around his shoulders before she calls for a portal to her hut.
The Keep takes a few extra moments to listen, but it does listen, and when Rilla is gone and the portal is closed and Arum is alone, and human, and alone, he finally pinpoints a feeling that has been squirming at the back of his mind since he collapsed in the greenhouse.
He feels half deafened, with these strange human ears. It is less dramatic than the weakness of his vision, or the utter travesty of his olfactory capabilities.
But his limited hearing is not the reason that all around him feels so… muffled.
Arum realizes, at last, the final strangeness of this transformation. The final cruelty. It is quiet, now that Amaryllis has left him. More than that, though. It is silent, in a foreign way. The Keep creaks around him as always, but Arum finally realizes what has been missing.
He cannot hear the Keep. Not really. He cannot feel it. He cannot sense it, steady at the edges of his mind, where its presence has always before been, sturdy and safe. Even when it slept after its illness, Arum could still feel that it was there, even if it was not aware or present. Now, though.
Now, Arum is alone.
Alone in his own mind, wearing skin that does not fit him, helpless as a hatchling without even his closest kin for comfort.
Arum closes his eyes. He does not have the strength for anything else, just now. He curls into as tight a ball as he can manage, his cape and his blankets an overwhelming pressure he cannot stand to remove, and he settles in to wait for one of his lovers to return.
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