#how? magic. both of them can warp reality we been knew | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dumbbitchenergy17 · 3 years

Text

Bringer of Chaos

With the reveal of you as the UA traitor, 1-A and the Pro Heroes now have to face the war coming to them. By the Bringer of Chaos.

Words- 6.6K

UA!Traitor x MHA, Tomura Shigaraki x Reader (Sibling Relationship)

Warnings: MAJOR Character death, violence, death, Stockholm syndrome, angst, and lots of sadness

A/N: For the readers quirk it’s chaos magic just like Scarlet Witch as well as hero costume. This isn’t a crossover making the reader Scarlet Witch, just that that quirk works for the story and I couldn’t think of any other villain costume. Anyways hope you all enjoy.

Was it fear that she felt.

All their eyes on her.

Heroes think they were in the right but how many people died by their hands. Why say you're a hero if you can’t save them all right?

You had always had a dangerous quirk when you were younger, both your parents were quirkless but when they had you, you had one. Chaos Magic is what they called it the ability to tap into and utilizes the chaotic forces of the universe, capable of warping, manipulating and/or reconstructing reality and probability as well as the very fabric of existence. They had no clue where it came from and from which side of the family passed it down. Two quirkless parents raising a child with a strong quirk, they had no clue what to do.

You were pulled out of school after your quirk had manifested and you made a stuffed animal bear come to life, scaring the class and teacher and forcing you to transform it back to a regular toy. With such a strong quirk your parents were afraid that you could hurt someone when your quirk grew stronger and you were homeschooled for the safety of you but mostly the safety of others.

Society deemed people without quirks useless and not successful, if you had one you better hope it was powerful and flashy or you wouldn’t be going anywhere with your life. When you were younger you looked up to heroes, they saved the day and kept everyone safe from the bad guys. You remembered sitting on the couch with your parents watching the news and seeing the heroes save the day and you would stand up and turn to your parents saying you would become a hero and save everyone. They would smile and tell you if you worked hard enough you would be the next number one hero. With your childhood you were happy everyone was safe, until they weren’t.

The police and heroes said there was nothing they could have done to save them, it was a break-in. They had shown up and slaughtered your parents leaving you there sitting in between their bleeding bodies alone. That was when you knew heroes couldn’t save everyone, the society they live among is corrupt. Heroes looking after popularity votes and looks instead of actually saving lives. Ironically there were others they had similar ideals as you did. You were passed around from foster home to foster home but, no one wanted to deal with a child whose quirk was too dangerous; they didn’t want a villain-like kid.

You were six when you ran away after another foster family sent you back after you had made the dog they had got as a welcoming gift disappear never to return. You kept running until your legs wouldn’t let you move anymore and that’s when he found you.

A portal had opened in the alleyway you had collapsed in and out came a man followed by a boy. The man wore a some sort of ventilator mask that covered the entire of his face and neck, next to him was a boy who had a disembodied hand covering his face. The man never told you his name just holding his hand telling you that you would be able to get revenge on the heroes. You grew to see him as your new father and the boy who told you his name was Tomura as a brother. He was a few years older than you but the time you spent together was when you were meeting father or him watching you train your quirk. Another person in your life when you joined what was now the League of Villains was Kurogiri, father was rarely around so he watched after you and Tomura, he taught you everything you would need to know.

When you joined UA you main goal was to bring down the hero society following after Tomura’s lead, him always reminding you that you would get your revenge. You played your part well not holding back when in fights against villains during the USJ, Kamino Ward, everything fell into place. With talk about the UA traitor within the teachers no one suspected the girl who seemed to have little hold on her quirk, but how wrong they were. All this led to now your former friends looking at you in fear and horror, when it was revealed you were the traitor.

You were completely surrounded by her former teachers standing around you ready to take you down and you kept your gaze on your class.

“Y/n don’t make this harder than it is, please just surrender.” Mr. Aizawa held his scarf in both hands ready to attack if you made any sudden moves.

“And if I don’t? Can you really stop me?” You glance at your teacher and he faltered slightly in his stance.

“You’re completely surrounded by pro heroes, so we can take you down.” Present Mic said making you smirk they have only seen what you showed at progression with your quirk. UA only knows the most you could do is change the integrity of a few objects, nothing on a large scale. They barely gave you time to react with Mr. Aizawa sends his capture weapon towards you to wrap it around you, activating his quirk making his hair rise up and float. The weapon goes straight to you half of it landing on the ground behind you.

You look at him with a bored expression, finding humor in him and the others' shocked expression. “Did you think it would be that easy?” You knelt grabbing the end of his capture weapon and he tries to use it but it doesn’t affect you. “What would a simple cloth feel like if it weighed more than that.” A red haze covers the cloth leading up to his neck and slams into the ground, the weight of the scarf alone slowly starts to suffocate him. Present Mic and Midnight rush to him trying to pry the scarf off him.

“Mr. Aizawa!” Class 1-A yells seeing their teacher struggle. Dropping the scarf from your end you look around at your teachers who know they can’t stop you and your classmates.

“Don’t think this is over,” You hear an explosion and someone running towards you, “You bastard get back here!” Bakugo yells, holding his hand out sending a huge explosion. The smoke clears and there is Bakugo panting out of breath looking around for you, but you’re nowhere to be found. The red haze surrounding Aizawa’s scarf disappears, sending him shooting upwards, throwing it off him as he coughs and wheezes. The 1-A and the Pros look to where you once stood, if that was just some of your power, they had no clue what was in store for them if you came back.

In an abandoned warehouse the league hears footsteps heading towards the room they were in. Each of them ready to fight and kill the intruder, the footsteps getting louder until it was right in front of the room.

“That’s funny thinking your quirks could stop me.” A familiar voice calls out through the door as they open it. You stand in front of them and they relax welcoming you in. Standing away from them was Tomura Shigaraki, he was scratching his neck frantically but stopped when he heard your voice. You walked closer to the man you saw as a mentor, as a brother. You stood next to him as he looked out the warehouse window showing the vast city that was part of Japan.

“Tomura...it’s time.”

With your reveal as the UA traitor the school was put on lockdown immediately once you left in fear you would return but not alone. Your face was plaster across the news worldwide ranking you as national alert. News articles found everything about you with your parent’s death, your disappearance from the orphanage to your life at UA. They speculated that you could be in correlation to the league which made you more of a threat, if you had connections to All for One or Tomura Shigaraki.

“Funny how one moment you were just a UA student, now you’re public enemy number one.” Spinner smirks, tossing you the latest newspaper that talked about you. You smirked as you made the newspaper disappear before it could hit you and reappear behind Spinner hitting him in the back of the head.

“They say the same crap as always, not my fault heroes don’t know how to do their jobs.” You go back to laying on the couch closing your eyes, blocking out the noise of the villains around you. You hear the door open and footsteps bounding towards you jumping on the couch crushing you under their weight.

“Y/nnnnnn I missed you so much when you were gone. It’s boring being the only girl here with Mange gone and you always at UA.” Toga wraps her arms around you squeezing the living life out of you.

“Toga if you don’t let me go, I swear I will turn you into a bug.” You open one eye glaring at her and she sighs getting off you mumbling under her breath.

“How much longer do we have to keep waiting we’ve been in this stupid warehouse for the past week.” Dabi said, kicking a can away from where he was standing.

“Yeah I wanna fight, no let’s relax.” Twice responses, god they were annoying as hell.

You huff sitting up look at them, “When Tomura says he’s ready we’ll go until then shut up and let me rest.”

“And why should we listen to what you have to say, you’re younger than any of us.” Dabi gets up in your face and you clench your jaw waiting for him to do something.

“You should watch what you say next, we know who could win in this fight.” You stand both of you up in each other's face.

“Yeah what are you gonna do about it, huh” He smirks and he goes to speak again but his breath hitches as he grabs his throat.

“What’s the problem Dabi? Have something to say?” He falls to his knees as he tries to breath but is unable to. “You feel that right your lungs are failing on you, do you know how easy it is to kill you right now.” You squat in front of him grabbing his face, your hand covered in a red haze when you use your quirk.

“You made your point Y/n stop it.” Toga grabs your shoulder.

“No, he seems like he has something to say right, Dabi.” Tears fill his eyes as he is practically blue in the face.

“That’s enough Y/n.” Tomura calls out and you stop using your quirk as him and Mr. Compress enter the room. Dabi sucks in air coughing profusely Twice, Toga, and Spinner goes to his aid as he regulates his breath lightheaded from the rush of new oxygen. “You all act like children.” Tomura says walking past you all going to the window looking out to the city.

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes sitting back on the couch. “The Nomus are ready, my army is ready.” He turns to look at you all. “You all know what you have to do, so get to it.” He says and they all leave, Dabi walking past you glaring at you with you glaring back. Leaving only the two of you left in the room, you stand next to him as you both look at the calm city that will be thrown into chaos.

“Father would be proud of you Tomura.” You place your hand on his shoulder and he nods.

“You know what to do, you are the biggest piece in the puzzle. You know UA in and out, give them hell.” You nod looking at the man you see as family, the calm before the storm.

“I’ll see you on the other side Tomura.”

The van you were in stopped a few blocks away and you climbed out of it looking back at the villains sitting in it. “Don’t fuck it up Y/n.” Dabi says and you smirk. “You just do your job.” The clothes you were wearing transform into your old school uniform. The league drives away leaving you to walk the rest to UA, they would have no clue what hit them.

With your disappearance UA had been hesitant but continued school as normal, with the dorms they had up campus security and included a strict curfew for the safety of the students. Many students were surprised when they heard that you were the traitor while others found it ironic that someone from 1-A the hero course was actually a villain. 1-A atmosphere had definitely change since the reveal, some were easier at coming to peace that who they thought was their friend was actually a traitor while others still couldn’t believe it. The class seemed dull with you gone. You had put on a convincing performance, actually forming friendships with your classmates some seeing you as family which broke them even more. Midoriya lost some sort of sparkle since you had left, he saw you as one of his closest friends and felt like this seemed like his fault why didn’t he see the signs. Your curiosity for everyone’s quirk specifically his, you seemed to have a love for heroes and he had shown you his notebook with list upon list of everyone with their quirks and their strength and weakness. He let her get exactly what she needed that would affect heroes and the students because he saw her as a friend.

Mr. Aizawa went on about the lesson but Izuku drowned out most of his talking his gaze to the window showing the walkway to the front of the school. Every few minutes he could see cars driving past the entrance, but what caught his eye was someone walking down the path that led to the building. From this distance he couldn’t make out a face but they were a student from the uniform, but why were they there? It was already the middle of the school day and they should be in class. As if his questions were answered an alarm went off shocking the students

“Intruder alert! Please evacuate the building. Intruder alert!” The intercoms repeat as the alarm continues.

Everyone is grabbing their bags, “It’s probably just the press like last time.” Kirishima says as they get ready to leave, but Midoriya is still locked onto the figure walking to the building, they had no school bag and didn’t seem like they were in a hurry as they got closer. Whoever was walking looked up towards the building and Midoriya felt ice enter his veins seeing their face.

“Hey Deku come on we have to go.” Uraraka grabs his arm to pull him away from the window but he is frozen in shock and fear. His classmates look at him confused at his unnaturally pale face.

“Deku you idiot we have to leave.” Bakugo yells at him standing at the door where Mr. Aizawa was waiting impatiently as they needed to evacuate as a group.

“She’s here.” Midoriya said, and the class had a pretty good idea who “she” was.

“None of you leave this classroom, you got it.” Mr. Aizawa pushed them back in, closing the door, locking it and rushing to go to the other teachers leaving 1-A locked in the class unable to do anything but watch out the window.

“This is crazy, why is she back?” Kaminari said as they all tried to look out the window to see you.

“Whatever reason the Pros will stop her.” Ida said having faith in the heroes.

“You saw what she did last time she was here she almost killed Mr. Aizawa!” Mineta cried out.

“If it’s a fight that’s coming I’m not gonna sit around and wait for her to get here. Where’s the button to open our lockers” Bakugo yelled, going to Mr. Aizawa's desk looking for the button so they could get their hero costumes.

“That isn’t smart Kacchan we thought she wasn’t that advanced with her quirk but if she is that strong and involved with the league of villains we are ants compared to her.” Midoriya tried to reason with him.

“I think Bakugo is right,” Momo said which shocked most of the class, “We need to be logical with this, she’s back here for a reason, she wouldn't be coming back if she didn’t have a plan or someone specific she’s after. She is not our friend anymore right now she’s the enemy and if we want any chance of surviving this we can’t be on a lower level than her.” With Momo’s speech their thoughts were decided, they would have to prepare to fight if they wanted to come out of this alive.

You knew the Pros would be here any minute after you heard the alarm go off. You stood in front of the fountain waiting for them to arrive, you knew that this fight some people wouldn’t make it out but the heroes need to get the punishment they deserve. The loud screech from Present Mic when using his quirk could bring anyone down caused you to press your hands against your ears. You could endure this if it meant saving up energy for your quirk. You felt the capture weapon surround your body and the screaming stop and you collapsed to the ground.

“Ms. Y/n we weren’t expecting you to show up but it seems that we were still able to take you down.” You knew you couldn’t use your quirk unlike last time when that had been an illusion you just needed to wait.

“Funny Nezu you always think you're one step ahead.” You smirk looking up at the principal, “I know I’m always one step ahead.” You could smell the fire and there it was the blue flames growing from the forest.

“It’s the League of Villains!” Midnight gasped coming out of the forest were hordes of Nomus each with different quirks.

“You're sure you’re one step ahead?” You smirk and they knew you were just a decoy. The teachers outside had no choice but to deal with the Nomus heading towards the school and to where you were.

Leaving just Aizawa and Nezu to deal with you, “You are much smarter than I expected.” You shrugged and Aizawa tightened his weapon making you laugh

“I was told to give them hell.” With that you swept your foot out from under Nezu and Aizawa causing them both to jump back, with the split second it that Aizawa eyes closed you vanished from his binds. “Truly wonderful time seeing you again, but the fight has barely begun.” Aizawa doesn’t have time to fight you as he is attacked by a Nomu.

Nezu studies you and you stare back at him, “I don’t understand why you’ve done this but we will stop you.”

You grin “You heroes say that but we both know how this ends.” You disappeared from the battle leaving the teachers fighting the Nomus and the students inside defenseless against you.

“Where did she go?!” Sero said seeing you disappear from their view. With the doors locked they couldn’t leave so they stood in the classroom in their hero costumes waiting for the fight to come to them.

“We know that she’s with the league for all we know they could be in the building already and with the teachers outside we would open for an attack.” Midoriya said seeing you easily get captured only for you to be a decoy for the league to appear, it was genius.

“Midoriya, always thinking about the correct things, that was something I liked about you.” You said making the class turn from the window to where you were sitting on top of your desk in the back. “Great to see you all again.” You smiled and your classmates grimaced at you.

“You're a bitch you know that.” Bakugo hissed, making you frown.

“That hurts my feeling, Kacchan.” You hopped off your desk walking towards them, none of them moving when you stood in front of your classmates.

“You guys are smart putting on your costumes, cause out there seems like the final battle, but this is the beginning of the war.” You said and conveniently when you finished rumbling when through the building and loud explosions went off.

Out the window the view showed buildings away from UA erupting into flames explosions happening every few blocks. 1-A watched in horror that this is what she meant by war not just UA and the league, the entirety of villains and heroes battling it out; utter chaos. “With that we sadly won’t be needing you all. I say this as your former classmate and friend, stay the hell out of my way I don’t wanna hurt you.” The class doesn’t have time to fight back or anything when it feels like the ground is taking out from under them and they are warped away.

The teachers outside are struggling with Nomus keep showing up, suddenly they all freeze and walk away from the heroes heading to the building stopping in front of it as if they were guarding it. Aizawa wipes away the blood from his face “What the hell is this.” He sighs.

“Mr. Aizawa!” He hears his students yell out to him and sees them running towards him.

“What are you all doing here I told you to stay inside.” He scolds them

Ida steps up from the group, “It was Y/n she appeared in the class and then warped us all away, there were other students as well. I believe everyone in the building is now outside.” Aizawa looked back to the building that was guarded by Nomus.

“We don’t know why they would take the building but remove the students but we need to take headcount to see if everyone is actually outside. With what is happening in the city and here heroes are spread thin. This is exactly what they had planned but why go after UA and how is Y/n involved in all this.” The teachers didn’t deal with any problems with the league or Nomu they all just seemed to stop after the students were outside. Part of the forest that was destroyed by the flames was used as a base for heroes and students, everyone was outside not a single student was missing. Which put out the question of what they were after.

“Not a single student is missing, heroes from outside of Musutafu are coming in, but even then we don’t know how many villains or Nomus they might have.” Midnight told Nezu. Some of the teachers were together discussing their next plan while others were watching the students.

“We can assume that the League is in the building, we need to figure out a plan to fight them but also keep the students safe.” Aizawa said, looking over to where his class was.

“The only two people that have a decent amount of info on the league would be Aizawa and All Might.” Nezu said, “You had Y/n as a student though she never showed us the full potential of her quirk, you know her as a student. Whether her personality she showed to everyone was a lie, lies are built on truth. We need to remember she is still a child she could be manipulated to believe what she’s doing is right.” The teachers nodded, you were just a child that could be forced in the middle of this war, “Does anyone know where All Might we need some more information on the League.” The teachers looked at each other, no one had seen All Might at all. With him becoming quirkless because of Kamino he wasn’t outside when the heroes fought the Nomus. Then it hit the heroes, that’s what they were after.

“You think they figured out you are gone yet? All Might.” You asked, turning away from the window to where All Might sat tied up. “Think the new Symbol of Peace is going to be able to stop this.” You walked over to where he was and sat down in front of him.

“Y/n I don’t know why you’ve done this, but being with the League of Villains will not help you get what you want.” He tries to reason with you.

“What I want you can’t give, the next best thing is getting revenge on those who failed to save them.” You looked at the frail man sitting in front of you. “Do you know what it’s like losing everyone in your life? My parents died because you heroes failed to protect them. You call yourself a hero but you still fail to help those in need. I wanted to become a hero but my quirk was too dangerous for the public. I had no one when they died, no one wanted the girl whose quirk was literally chaos. They found me, took me in and raised me, they were the only ones who actually cared for me.” You said, tears forming in your eyes recalling your horrible childhood.

“They took you in because they saw your quirk. All for One only saw you as a pawn in his game, Shigaraki “raised” you so you would fight alongside him instead of against him.” All Might explained and you stood up, the chair behind you slamming against the floor.

“You’re wrong..they care for me.” You point your finger at him proving to him but he could see that you were doubting yourself.

“They’re using you Y/n what you are doing is leading you down a path that you can’t turn back from.” You turned away from him looking out the window seeing the Pros standing on the pathway, waiting for the fight to begin.

You could see heroes all around Japan here ready to fight, you could also see UA students ready to fight including 1-A. “Those idiots.” You mumbled. “This is the end for heroes All Might, I will get my revenge.” You exit the room walking down the hallway to the main conference room where the League was waiting as well as villains from all over Japan.

Tomura looks at you and you nod telling him you're ready, “Our time for hiding in the shadows is over, the reign of heroes will end today.” The villains cheer rushing out going to fight the heroes. You don’t move as villains pass by you including members of the League leaving as well. You feel a hand on your shoulder making you look up, “Are you alright?” Tomura asks and you nod, the sick feeling still in your stomach from what All Might said to you.

“Tomura...I’m not a pawn in all this.” You knew that you were needed in getting your revenge that’s what father told you, but were you expendable if need be.

“You are the one that is going to change the future, a bringer of chaos, Master will be proud of us both.” Tomura said and you felt the tension in you loosen a bit, “You be safe okay Tomura.” He doesn’t say anything just nodded and left you alone. What you were doing was right, the path you were following was dark but was the right one.

The showdown between villains and heroes as they stood on opposite sides neither moving yet. “We have visuals on Shigaraki and other members of the League, no visual of Y/l/n.” Aizawa heard through the comm links everyone was given, there were four squads made, squad 1 deals with underground villains, squad 2 deals with the Nomus surrounding the building, squad 3 will deal with the League and Y/n if she shows up on the field, and squad 4 will being helping in the rescue of All Might. Most of the top Pros were involved in squad 2 and 3 while lesser heroes dealt with the lesser villains and the All Might rescue.

“How long are they going to keep standing here, either fight or surrender.” Endeavor said looking at the villains standing there waiting.

“Everyone behind us!” The heroes turned and there was Y/n with villains behind her as well as a few Nomus.

“It’s an ambush!” Aizawa yells and the villains on both sides rush to attack the heroes in the middle. The thundering footsteps rush past you as they attack heroes in front of you, with your entrance on the field you disappear appearing back in the room where All Might was in.

From the window you could see Villains and heroes fought for their lives, many getting injured, some fatally wounded. “You see this All Might, heroes and villains together fighting for their lives, where’s the peace now. There is only chaos.” You glanced behind you looking at the former Pro before turning back to watch the fight.

“I’m sorry.” You hear All Might say, “I’m sorry we couldn’t save your parents, you don’t deserve to have all this hate and sadness in your life.”

You froze staring down watching your comrades and allies being hurt and your former friends and mentors dying due to your goals. “I wanted to help people. I wanted to be the kind of hero that saves everyone so no one is alone in their life. You can’t save me All Might you said so yourself I’m too far down this path to be saved.” You turn to him and he sees glimpses of the person you were in school, a curious girl with a strong quirk ready to help anyone in her class. You were just a child but you have had more problems than anyone has dealt with in a lifetime.

“We can help you, just help us stop this, we can get you the life you always wanted.” All Might pulled against the restraints pleading to you.

“We both know how this fight ends, I’m never going to get that happy ending.” You turned around to look back at the fight when you saw the door entering the room was slightly open. “Smart All Might, distract me with some sappy excuse so the heroes could get in and save you. Who’s here, someone who could be invisible, Hagakure or Asui I know you were working on camouflage with your quirk.” You call out a red haze surrounding your hands ready to fight the intruder. You have no time to react when the window you were standing in front of shatters due to an explosion, another being sent to you sending you flying across the room. You hit the wall, denting it slightly, looking up to see Bakugo, Midoriya, Todoroki, as well some heroes and other students from other classes. “You’re all so good, coming to save him it’s pathetic.” You spit out blood that pooled in your mouth.

“Fight then, though a school uniform wouldn’t be the best suited for this.” Bakugo smirks looking at the uniform you were still in. You smirk getting up groaning slightly from how hard you hit the wall.

“Let’s change into something more suitable.” You slowly walk to them your outfit changing as a red haze starts from your feet changing your clothes. You now wore a red chestplate with angular faulds extending into an ankle-length skirt, elbow-length red fingerless gloves, black trousers and thigh-high boots, and an intricate red crown.

“You had to ask.” Todoroki looks over to Bakugo. Bakugo rushes towards you sending an explosion at your face but it fazes right through you.

“Gonna have to try harder then that.” You laugh now on the other side of the room holding All Might in your grasp blasting the people by him away. A blast of ice is sent to you but you dodge out of the way, with the ice distracting you. Midoriya punches you in the gut sending you flying out of the building down to where the fight was. Bakugo jumps out of the building grabbing onto you using his other hand to send an explosion sending you both shooting straight into the ground making a small crater.

Bakugo hears a groan and smirks, “Not that quick are you..” The dust clears out and Bakugo is shocked to see Midoriya underneath him instead of you. “How the hell did she.” He gets up pulling up Midoriya who holds his ribs in pain. “Where the hell did she go.” He looks around at the fighting around him not given much time to think as villains attack him.

You smirk running through the fight trying to find Tomura even if they were able to rescue All Might the heroes had just as many casualties then you did. You see Tomura disintegrate someone's arm pushing them away, but you could see he was getting overwhelmed with many Pros after him. You rush towards him but a wall of orange flames blocks you from reaching him. You turn to see who sent the flames and there was the number one hero Endeavor.

“You killed innocent people.” He says making his way towards you.

“I’m reshaping the future” You get ready to fight and Endeavor sends a blast of fire towards you and you could feel the heat from the blast. Before it could hit you blue flames appear blocking the attack.

“Go we both have our jobs.” You see Dabi standing in front of you, the flames growing in both men’s hands, both him and Endeavor ready to fight. You nodded running off to Tomura, Dabi can handle himself, like he said we each had our own jobs. You see Snipe aiming his gun towards Tomura and you stand in front of him. The bullets float in midair and you send them flying back in different directions. Some hitting heroes, others hitting villains you couldn’t care as long as Tomura was safe.

“They got All Might, what now.” You stand back to back with him using your quirk to break heroes bones, sending people flying across the field.

“Get the league here we leave now.” He answers, pressing his hand on a hero's face instantly disintegrating them. You spread your hands out closing your eyes, getting a picture of each member on the field and warping them to your location.

“That was a weird feeling.” Toga giggles, throwing a knife into someone’s leg.

“Time to go now.” Tomura says.

You hold your hands out and a portal opens up in front of you. Villains that are close to the portal rush to it as they don’t want to be left behind, and the heroes see this and rush to stop you all.

“You guys go, I can handle them.” You sent a wave of energy towards the heroes nearby, sending them back. “See I got thi-”

You heard it before you felt it. In all the noise and chaos happening around you it’s funny how this small noise from far away you heard. Maybe your quirk knew what was going to happen and in some sick way warned you knowing you wouldn’t be fast enough to stop it. Two sharp pains went through your body and you jolted a bit when they hit you. Why did it suddenly feel like everything was in slow motion, why was it hard to breath, god why is everything so quiet.

You look over at the League and you see Toga screaming but being held back by Mr. Compress, Spinner was standing there shocked looking at you, and Twice and Dabi were holding Tomura back as he struggled in their grasp screaming your name. All this was happening but it was quiet. You look down at your costume and you see two bullet holes blood staining it, one in your chest where your heart is the other in your stomach. Time sped up and the noise returned as you fell to your knees coughing out blood.

“Y/N! NO LET ME GO!” You hear Tomura scream, you hold out your hand.

“Go!” You wheeze, grabbing your chest as you cough up more blood. You look at each of them taking in an image of them as Mr. Compress pulls Toga through the portal, Spinner following after him, you see Tomura still struggling trying to get to you. You make eye contact with Dabi and just nod and he gives you a solemn one back using all his and Twice’s strength to pull Tomura through. You look at Tomura and smile, you would see each other some day.

“Tomura you look after me just like a big brother does! That’s what Kurogiri told me when I asked him.” A younger version of you smiles up to Tomura and he looks at you kneeling down to your height.

“I’ll always be with you and protect you.” He placed his hand on your head making sure to keep one finger up. You smile and giggle hugging him tightly burying your face in your chest.

“Thanks Tomura.”

With the last amount of strength left in you, you wave your hand closing the portal once Tomura has completely disappeared. You feel your weight shift unable to keep yourself up on your knees and fall to the ground. You saw green lightning and they caught you before you hit the ground. You see Midoriya’s face above you yelling out to someone but you're focused on the sky and how you could see the colors change as it almost reaches sunset.

“Hey come on stay awake help is on the way just stay awake.” You see his tear filled eyes stare down at you.

“Why..I’m a bad guy.” You wheeze and he laughs, tears filling his eyes.

“No one is ever truly bad.” You smile looking back towards the sky, “Hey come on don’t give up on me.”

You hear footsteps run up and it’s Aizawa and All Might. “Come on Midoriya.” Aizawa goes to pull him away but you grab Izuku’s arm.

“Please don’t leave me.” You whimper, tears filling your eyes. Izuku nods with tears in his eyes falling. “You heroes...always see the good.. in others...it’s nice.” You smile looking up at the sky and a tear slides down your face, and you wince feeling the sharpness in your chest. “I don’t wanna die.” You cry and that breaks the heroes standing in front of you.

“Your not going to help is going to be here any minute.” Aizawa reassures you and nods.

“The sky it’s pretty…tell them I’m sorry.” You cough your breathing getting more shallow and faint and you could swear you saw two figures standing above you. “momma... papa.”

She felt fear at first but it was inner peace as you saw a bright light.

Midoriya looks down ready to comfort you to tell you that help is coming, but stops when he sees you. Your gaze is on the sky, your eyes blank, a small smile on your face finally at peace.

Izuku lets out an anguish cry when he sees your chest not rising anymore. He cries for many reasons, the pain you went through to make you a villain, the hate you must have felt fighting your former friends, and him and all the heroes failing you.

The battlefield was silent as they looked at the young boy holding her body, many heroes felt guilt ebb at them for letting a misguided child die due to this life. Students from UA are lost at words from the loss of a former friend and student, they never expected this to come this far. Students from 1-A cry, seeing their classmate hold the body of their former classmate. Teachers and heroes that knew her look away not wanting to see her body in fear they would fall apart or cry in front of others.

This day would be remembered for years to come as the day the heroes failed at saving one girl that needed the most saving.

353 notes · View notes

sepublic · 3 years

Text

Through the Looking Glass Ruins!!!!!

…

SO! Onto other things first…

WRATH IS BRAXAS’ FATHER!??!!? HOLY SHIT, Wrath is a canonical dad, I’d always expressed my… OH MY GOD WRATH IS DAD! And of BRAXAS, that sweetie… How is Braxas such a sweetie with a father like HIM, also-

Wrath was in casual wear? Either he has a day off, or he got fired by Belos/Kikimora after drawing Luz a map to Eda in Young Blood, Old Souls! Either way this guy has a sudden new level of NUANCE that I am reeling from, and yes I checked, that really is Wrath according to the credits! Dang this puts everything in a WHOLE new light…!

AMITY HAIR OHMIGOD IT LOOKS SO ADORABLE SHE’S SELF-ACTUALIZING I AM FUCKING SCREAMING HOLY SHIT OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, it’s PINK and not green… They acknowledged it, Emira did! And they CHANGED IT I AM LOSING MY FUCKING MIND OVER THIS-

She looks so BEAUTIFUL and I love the kind of foreshadowing with the bookends of our first shot of Amity having her hair down, and now it’s changed! And she looks adorable and EMIRA AND EDRIC BEING GREAT SIBLINGS I LOVE IT SO MUCH! This… THIS is everything I wanted! I was resigned to not much of them but HELL YEAH they’re being good siblings and we get a look at their rooms, we see them doing MAKEOVERS together this is everything from my favorite fanon content and MORE,

Also Edric has a date?! Emira says ‘their’ mom… Unless the Golden Guard has a mom, DARN! Not gonna lie, I half-expected a big twist at the end that Edric was dating the Golden Guard, who was doing some sort of reconnaissance as his unrecognized normal self and/or screwing around with the Blights even further, but in a GENUINE sense… But then who knows Kikimora could be posing as GG’s ‘mom’, this is a stretch anyhow-

JUST HELL YEAH Blight Twins! Blight Twins being sweet and mischievous and supportive of each other, Blight SIBLINGS being siblings, Emira being an older sister and giving advice! And AMITY, Amity mentioning how much Luz has changed stuff, I love that they acknowledge it openly how her life has completely shifted, and now… NOW…!

No necklace! Red leggings! PINK HAIR?! Is this why Amity in the intro hasn’t been updated yet… She was getting TWO updates, so the animators decided to only animate a change after this final update?!

King and Gus are also friends it seems, and they even recorded some fun together! I’m surprised at how much Bria and the others mock Gus’ illusion skills… Obviously Belos is kinda terrible but like; I don’t think he’d set aside an entire subset of magic into Illusions without reason! Also that nightmare trip… I LOVE IT, I love Gus applying the creativity of illusions in their ability to completely warp and distort someone’s sense of reality! And I called that dragon-thing being an illusion!

A graveyard… I wonder if the Gallderstones (is that how it’s spelled) have any relevance or if they’re just neat? I hope Mattholomule and Gus help hide the Looking Glass Graveyard… Damn, that’s another Death reference with Gus, huh! Is it culminating in his respect for the dead, or will it continue further with Gus being a necromancer, or an Oracle who can commune with the deceased, and he has their respect as someone who treats them properly?!

Also not to get dark but… What if all those Illusionists are dead because of Belos? I’m JUST SAYING…! And not gonna lie, every time someone insulted Illusions, I kept imagining the Illusion Head just suddenly waking up and feeling like there’s a disturbance in the force, as well as a weird compulsion to beat up some Glandus kids. It’d be even funnier if he had beef with the Construction, Plant, and Abomination Heads as well!

Speaking of which, more confirmation on Construction Magic being related to earth! Glad to see Bria give us a look into that, which furthers my idea of Belos using construction magic… Also dang, Bria and the Glandus Kids really are the parallels/foils to the Detention kids! You’ve got the short ‘nice’ girl, the tall lanky kid, the furry… But the Glandus Kids start off looking nice and cool, but turn out to be rather nasty!

Meanwhile the Detention Kids seem like bad news and delinquents, but no! They’re just demonized and actually very kind and chill! The Detention Kids are looked down upon, the Glandus Kids are appraised… The Detention Kids are dual-track, the Glandus Kids are singular; Glandus Kids from, well, GLANDUS, Detention Kids from Hexside… One’s ‘mischief’ is actually very neat and cool, the other’s is literal grave robbing.

I guess that’s how the bleeding statues got past the censors- It’s technically just an illusion! Also more insight into how Glandus works with its Survival of the Fittest mentality, I wonder if we’ll get confirmation on which coven heads came from there, how that might influence them as adults…

What is Glandus like, is it more whole-heartedly accepting of Belos’ rule, hence its harsh ideals? Was it made after Hexside? Does Bump hate it for being so cruel like that, or is it just school bias? And dang poor Mattholomule, I always had a feeling he sort of felt and knew that he wasn’t much, so he accepted and compensated by deliberately doing whatever he can for power…

They confirmed he’s from Glandus, and I appreciate this new look at him! This new leaf turned… Hot take but he’s honestly not as bad as Boscha, his stint with Gus was a one-time thing that Gus was able to live with! And that seems pretty good to set them up as friends! Speaking of Boscha, Willow was injured by pixies? And the last time we heard of pixies, they belonged to Boscha and caused the school to get shut down… Did BOSCHA DO THIS I SWEAR SHE IS DEAD TO ME-

(Also she’s mentioned in the credits for this episode but I don’t remember hearing her? I might’ve gotten distracted with so much other things.)

Gus! I like the insight into his relationship with Illusions, and I appreciate how he’s considering other forms of magic… But this hesitation might just serve to reaffirm his believe in Illusions, which is okay! It’s all about choice… And yeah, it seems Gus also has a case of impostor syndrome like King, no wonder they get along so well! I love the glimpses into Gus’ house and the confirmation that he has a library card, no Perry though alas…!

I appreciate how Gus feels overlooked, like he has no real substance, which is how his Illusions reflect a desire to draw attention, but also the idea that there’s nothing real beneath them… Again, very much like King! And Gus, he’s not a powerhouse like the rest, he’s SKILLED and smart, but strength isn’t his forte, it’s not brute force he operates on, but cleverness! Trickery, I like it…! It’s a nice callback to his last A-plot episode, SVSF, where instead of fighting Mattholomule physically, Gus’ solution is to think outside the box and pull the alarm!

You go kid, not relying on brute strength but showing that some clever tricks and thinking are just as valid! Kinda wonder if this episode is lowkey a discussion on masculinity for young boys, especially with Gus growing older with puberty, though the latter is mostly because his actual VA grew… But maybe the writers rolled with that and incorporated it, or it’s just a very neat coincidence! Also, it is me or did Mattholomule’s voice change? And the gag that Gavin’s dad looks identical to him, even moreso because he’s NOT supposed to have a moustache… That’s great!

Malphas! Love this reference to a classic demon, I wasn’t sure if Malphas was the librarian with glasses whom I’ve always headcanoned as a father figure to Amity… But maybe it’s actually this bird dude! He seems adept in Bard magic, and I love the reveal of his true crow appearance… Guess those theorists were right that the one-eyed figure is from the Forbidden Stacks! Also Malphas NOT COOL with Amity, but I’m glad Luz changed his mind, and I wonder how that adventure looked…

Which- DAMN, the RSD with Luz! She looks so UTTERLY BROKEN when Amity mentions doing stupid things, and she didn’t mean it like that, but Luz just looks so completely shattered and you can tell she wants to cry but instead she bottles it up and tries to take it in stride, and that plays into her trying to overcompensate for her mistakes AGAIN… SOMEONE GET IT TO HER HEAD that she doesn’t need to! I’m scared for Luz, and I was SO scared this episode would end on a bad note…

BUT DOAHLDdFAEONDKFHN LUMITY KISS LUMITY KISS! ONE-SIDED BUT THEY FINALLY FUCKING KNOW AND AMITY IS LIKE WHAAAAT AND I WAS WAITING FOR IT AND I COULD FEEL IT HAPPEN AND GAY KISS! GAY KISS ON-SCREEN!!! And the way Luz just FLOPS to the ground on her knees AAHJJFFKHGGK and no Alador nor Odalia to ruin this, UTTERLY PERFECT and the twins WATCHING OOOHHHHGGGG YYYEEAAAAHHH-

This is EVERYTHING I ever wanted!

What an AMAZING episode with wonderful characer beats and reveals! Again, Amity’s growth as a character, that brief insight into how Luz as a person is very chaotic and sometimes frustrating for Amity and forces her to reevaluate, but ultimately it’s good and Luz DOES try her best, and Amity clearly wanted to make things up for Luz and apologize, they’re BOTH doing things, just the little moments!

Also, Alex Lawther voices Philip Wittebane! He has long hair and a vaguely british accent, he’s… He’s Belos isn’t he? And they got a new VA because having him voiced by Matthew Rhys would be really spoiler-y right? He’s got the long hair and he’s a nerd… And with how he talks of finding a way back home, maybe Belos really DOES just want to return home, after all? He talks of making a way back home…

And we see a glimpse of the Portal, so it might’ve brought him there? Or did Philip succeed in making it, and that was his blueprint designs? Did he arrive by Titan’s Blood? What happened to the portal if it brought him there, or if he made it? Why the scar, why near Eda’s house, partially buried?

Was it lost before he could finish his work, and Philip got side-tracked into something else… Perhaps going on a crusade, on behalf of a curse/demon that possessed him? A demon that killed King’s father…? Was the portal broken and he had to discard it, but then it naturally healed- Or did it just need to recharge, maybe Philip DID make it back home, WHAT IS THE ANSWER?! Is there some sort of doppelganger for Philip, is BELOS his doppelganger?! What is THIS WHAT-

WHAT AN EPISODE!

142 notes · View notes

kiki-shortsnout · 3 years

Note

You know, people say that IronStrange is a sad ship because they're clearly "right person, wrong time". But I think our ship is sailing on tears because Tony and Stephen are "right person, not enough time".

Can you use this as a prompt? If you're not busy? Or if you feel like it? Thank you 🥺

Of course I can use it as a prompt! What I came up with is a little but sad though!

Warnings: Mention of a terminal illness. (Nothing specific)

***

Smoothing out the collar of his shirt, Stephen checked his reflection in the mirror, picking up the bouquet of flowers he’d placed down on his desk. Taking a deep breath and checking his reflection once again, he practiced his smile before he left his bedroom.

He’d done this walk thousands of times without thinking about it too much. The Sanctum corridors were part of the background of his life, the setting blending into all the other memories he had of it. Today was different though, today he took his time to look at everything as he walked.

One of the cabinets was missing a ceramic incense burner that Stephen had always secretly hated. It was meant to ward off evil spirits and the like, but it had always given Stephen the eerie feeling of being watched. Tony had bumped into the cabinet by accident, leaving an indent in the wall that Stephen now brushed his fingers over. The accident had destroyed the gruesome thing, and Tony had replaced it with a sculpture of his own, a miniature Iron Man figurine.

‘That will stop the evil spirits dead in their tracks.’

His clutch on his flowers faltered as he looked down at the figurine, a few petals fluttering down to the floor.

Stephen could feel his resolve wavering, and he bowed his head, gritting his teeth against the burning in his eyes. The onslaught of his emotions raged in the confines of his mind, scratching and biting at his barely held together resolve. Why was this happening?

No, this wasn’t about him, this was about Tony, and he wasn’t going to let his arrogance invade now, not today. Clearing his throat, he refused to allow himself to feel anything else but this cheerful façade he’d constructed for the day.

Tony was sat in his armchair among the artifacts, talking to the Cloak about something inane. The Cloak’s collar twitched up, indicating it had realized Stephen was nearby, but it didn’t move from beside Tony, still giving him its full attention.

He was having a good day, which was why he’d suggested to Stephen they do this. A simple date, just the two of them. Stephen allowed himself to watch Tony for a moment, just listening to the sound of his voice and not the meaning of his words.

There were things he took for granted in his life, things that were constant, never faltering, his reality built upon them. Perched in his chair and talking to the Cloak, that was a fundamental part of Stephen’s life, not just a person he spent time with. He was as integral to Stephen as the air he breathed, the halls he walked down, the tea he drank.

There wasn’t a Stephen Strange without Tony Stark.

He couldn’t fathom a reality where Tony wasn’t in it.

Who else could he call douchebag and mean it as a form of endearment? Who would understand behind the snark and the sarcasm was genuine concern when Stephen spoke? No one else spoke the language they used with each other, their lexicon developed from their love and time spent together.

Shoving the feelings down, he ignored them, imagining stamping them into submission. He wasn’t going to do this now, not now, later, he would break later, now he would be there for Tony, give him the day he wanted.

‘Afternoon sweetheart, sorry I couldn’t get here sooner, but Wong would just not shut up about some trivial illness he thinks he has now,’ Stephen said as he strode over to Tony, offering him the flowers.

‘I thought it was common knowledge that if you have a friend who used to be a doctor, you’re supposed to ask them to look at everything,’ Tony answered, leaning up to accept Stephen’s kiss.

‘I brought you some lilies-’

‘Hot rod red, just the way I like them!’ Tony burst out, reaching with grabby hands. Making sure his touch was delicate, Stephen helped guide his hands to the bouquet, ignoring how skeletal they were, the paper thinness of skin and how he could see the spiderweb of indigo veins beneath.

One of the strongest men in the universe, Earth’s defender was now reduced to this.

‘Peter told me they symbolize passion and romantic love, but I looked it up and they can also symbolize hard work.’

‘You trying to imply I’m not working hard enough or something, asshole?’ Tony mock growled, inhaling the scent of the flowers.

This was one of life’s crueler twists of fate, a final screw you to Stephen.

You still think there will be no consequences, Strange? No price to pay? We broke our rules. Just like her. The bill comes due. Always! The words ricocheted around his brain, plastering themselves over and over inside his skull, branding themselves on the back of Stephen’s eyelids, motes of red against the darkness.

He’d thought by saving Tony when he defeated Thanos he’d been doing the right thing. He’d forced his magic to comply, warping the very fabric of space and time to save Tony, to heal his charred body, his damaged brain. At the time he told himself that he was doing it not because he himself had fallen for the man in the millions of lifetimes he’d glimpsed of Tony, but because of Pepper and Morgan, the family he deserved to have.

Stephen had tried to stay away from Tony after that, hadn’t wanted to destroy a happy family, but Tony had been drawn to him, just as he had been to Tony. His relationship with Pepper had come to an end, an amicable end, there was too much love and memories between them for it not to be. Even then, Stephen had waited months, held Tony at arm’s length to make sure he was ready for this relationship.

Months they could’ve had together.

As a doctor, he knew what Tony’s diagnosis meant, knew that no matter what miracles the hospital performed that this was always going to be terminal. He wanted to fix this, dear God how he wanted to fix it. He didn’t want Morgan growing up without a father, didn’t…couldn’t imagine life without Tony, how he was meant to go on without him.

This had been the price of his arrogance. He had saved Tony’s life by breaking the natural law, and this was how it had demanded payment.

He brought Tony’s hand to his mouth, brushing a kiss against the delicate skin.

Love stories were not always about the everlasting love, the stretching of years before you. Sometimes it was as short as finding the right person and not having enough time.

‘I know, Stephen, I feel it too,’ Tony said, leaning his forehead against Stephen’s. ‘You promised me one day. One day without treatments, hospital appointments, being prodded.’

‘I did, and I meant it, sweetheart. What did you have in mind? We’ll do anything you want to do. I could portal us to the beach? Or another country?’ Stephen asked, offering his arm to help Tony up, and passing the flowers over to the Cloak.

‘Let’s go for a walk in Central Park, take an aimless meander,’ Tony told him.

‘An aimless meander? Since when don’t you have a plan in mind? A thousand different things that you want to do?’ Stephen teased as they walked down the Sanctum stairs, the Cloak waiting at the bottom for them both, attaching itself to Tony’s shoulders to help carry some of his weight.

‘Maybe I just want to spend time with you without any of life’s complications getting in the way,’ Tony countered.

Opening the front door for him, Stephen bowed at his waist, extending his hand in an exaggerated gesture. ‘Your wish is my command, douchebag.’ He hesitated for a moment, looking at the sky, the brilliance of the blue, the cotton candy spun clouds.

A perfect day for meandering.

#fanfic #ironstrange #writing prompt #Angst #sad writing #tony stark #stephen strange

95 notes · View notes

mxvladdy · 4 years

Text

Diavolo- True Form

Whoooooooo weeeee! ‘Pologies for the wait on these longer posts. I’ve been hit with a one two punch of house emergencies and sudden costly ass repairs, so my creative juices have been rightly squashed as of late.

Plus side I got my drawing tablet and drafting table back so I can neaten up my blog lay out now (yay!)

Anyway this one was a challenge in the best possible ways. I really like Diavolo because of how little we know about him so it gave me some wiggle room. Or at least what I know of him- im only on like chapter 23 of the stories. Idk if I did him justice as this is angsty af but I sure had a blast writing it!

Hope ya like! Next up: Beelzebub

Trigger warning: Mention of blood, and swearing.

Diavolo-

He'll never show you, so don't ask. His true form is god-like in its own right and such knowledge, such truly raw demonic power in its natural form is not for your mortal eyes.

No matter what your lineage, it would break you. And despite his roles and being the literal devil, he doesn’t want you suffering.

Sometimes when he thinks you wouldn't notice he relaxes his hold on reality, just a fraction. He wants to relieve some of the tension that is always building just below the surface. Like closing your eyes when you have a tension headache. The mental energy he has to exert to keep face is enormous. Regular glamour doesn’t work nearly as well as his own, or Barbato’s magic.

But you see hints during your downtime spent in his company. A ripple in his reflection on the window pane. Unexplainable shadows dancing across his exposed skin. Too many teeth in his mouth when he laughs. Sometimes when you stare into his eyes you see something indescribable staring back behind them. His usually warm and inviting gaze darkening. A barest flicker, a hulking bestial thing kept locked behind in his golden gaze. It's enough to freeze the blood in your veins.

On certain nights when you can slip away from the brothers you stay in his room. Lying awake, you watch his magic wane and shift as he slumbers. Sometimes you see runes, or at times letters. You are tempted to write them down and ask Solomon. But something stops you each time.

The worst images are the faces. Unknown souls trapped beneath his flesh clawing to be freed. Silent screams fading back into his body as he dreams. Your fragile fingers trace the patterns they leave as you wait for the next day wrapped in his embrace.

Only once have you seen more of his form then he would ever wish. The depths of his strength and mental fortitude were unknown to you so the slip up took you both by surprise. He masks the error well, but the sudden shift in energy in the room couldn’t be suppressed .

You are suddenly so aware of the oppressive weight of gravity on your frame. Your bones grinding together under the force of his aura. You panic, desperate by the need to breathe, but are unable to draw even the smallest bit of oxygen as it is robbed from the room. Time and reality wrapped too, distorting in ways only you thought only Barbatos could do. You knew in that moment the sudden dread of death, how mortally was but a rusty shackle tethering you down.

He collects himself, dispelling the energy and locking his glamour down tight to protect you. But that split second of fury felt like an eternity to you as you sink to the floor. You hiccup a shaky sob and shiver. Your fragile human mind bowing under the strain of what it cannot comprehend. Scolding hot tears fall from your cheeks, before splashing crimson the stone below you.

You didn't approach him again for over a month. No matter how strong you are, some things were better off unseen.

Mini Fic

He didn’t know. For once in his ancient pitiful existence, he had been unaware of his surroundings. It had been for just a moment, one tiny crack in his veneer. The foolishness of Mammon and Belphegor’s actions finally poked the right nerve. He wouldn’t hurt them, for Lucifer’s sake. That prideful demon would never forgive him if he did. But he could scare them. A quick look at his true self; a flash of the deepest bowels of hell. Enough to give them a reminder of their positions and standing in his court. He had expected their whimpers of fear, could taste the acidic tinge of it exuding from their pores. What he didn’t expect though was your blood curdling screams alongside.

Ironically, he would have to thank the second eldest later. His fast thinking is the only thing that saved you from complete damnation. His body shielded yours, taking the brunt of the stronger daemons hellish might for you. What little magic Mammon still had left used to protect you. Though, while your vision was blocked, you could still feel his oppressive presence. It racked your mortal flesh. Diavolo knew what affects his power had on humans. He spent years breaking and consuming damned souls with zeal after all.

The brothers had run from him after that, screaming for Simone. Barbatos following close behind, a look of consternation on his usually impassive face. You had been so limp in Mammon's arms. Diavolo could do nothing, shocked by his own weak will and realization that he might have ruined everything. You had been whisked away so quickly by his faithful servant and the brothers that he hadn’t had a chance to look you over himself. But the brief moment he saw will haunt him for years to come. Your eyes red from the sudden haemolacria, the blood staining your clothes and face. Your fingers digging away at your soft skin, black and purple blotches staining what he could see. Mouth opened wide on a silent scream. He knew what you must have seen. The souls of the damned trapped under his glamour breaking free to latch on to your unmarred soul trying to drag you back with them.

Against his butler's advice he stands at your door now days later trying to see you. He couldn’t sit around and just hear updates second hand. The brothers had been keeping guard most days in a valiant attempt to keep him away. But he could only be waylaid for so long before he used his rank against them.

He had arranged a full council meeting. Every one of the brothers knowing full well it was to get them out of his way. Yet, the order was absolute. This time none of the brothers could reject it. Barbatos would keep them in that room for eternity if he so wished for it. He hated using his age and power against them, but he saw no other way to get to you.

It was foolish now, standing as he was in front of your door. A part of him hoping you would turn the knob and let him in. Let him comfort you for once, instead of the asinine distractions the brothers offered. He could help too. Hells, he wanted to. He wanted to be closer to you. Power discrepancy be damned. The other part of him knowing it was for the best that you didn’t. Your guardian and tormentor all in one. He listens to your muffled sobs for a moment fighting with his feet to stay cemented to the floor instead of heading back in defeat.

"When my father was still around he took me down to the deepest depths of the kingdom. Where the worst of the traitors and sinners are imprisoned." His deep baritone rumbles through your door during a break in your crying. "It’s a place few seldom go; even now I have yet to return. Back then he told me ‘there will never be a human soul that is undeserving of punishment. Even the ones destined for the celestial realm are tethered to sin.’ At that time I believed him. The things I saw in your realm... " The prince chuckles wearily.

He remembers the ever present scowl on the old King's face. His dark eyes looking out at the sea of damned souls he controlled. Even as a young daemon, fresh into his wings and still sharpening his horns to impress others he could tell how much his father detested his position. How it had warped him, turning him bitter and cold, even to his mate and only child.

Diavolo never wanted to be like that. Not to the ones he supposedly cared for at the very least. "I think that is why he hated the other realms so much.” He continued. “Humans, for their ability to choose which realm they would eventually end up in after they pass. That even the worst sinners could find redemption enough at the last moment to get to the pearly gates. While daemons, no matter how well they served, or the duties they did for the good of their own would never be seen as equals to our celestial counterparts or yours. That this existence is all we'll ever be destined to have. Nightmares and monsters, stories to tell little human children to keep them in line.” He pauses, collecting himself. “I believed wholeheartedly that every human deserved the punishments only my kind could dowel out. But, in this past year I have spent with you, I find myself changing. You are so undeserving of such torment. Somehow you are understanding and forgiving beyond measure to us. You handle our ill tempers with such grace. For daemons such as us, it is staggering, and humbling. I regret that I have hurt you so deeply and have broken your trust. I swear it as the head of this realm I would never intentionally do so." He looks at the door handle willing it to open. " I am so sorry."

Your crying picks up again. Huge heaving sobs that rattle your chest. Great Father, he just keeps making it worse. Clearing his head Diavolo turns.

Rejection of this nature was new to him. No one had ever dared to ignore him, especially such as this. The royal in him- his father's blood- seethed that he would even stoop so low as to grovel to a short lived thing like yourself. Even deeper yet, it demanded another taste of your essences. You little soul kept safe behind your rib cage. He wanted it added to his collection, kept tucked away deep within his maws.

It was sick; it was wrong. He chokes on the idea. The intrusive thought burrowing deep. How deplorable was he? Perhaps the angels were right to keep him out of heaven.

You didn't show to class the following day, or the days after. Unsurprising to him and the seven of the inner council. He figured the other day wouldn’t change anything. But it was utter agony to him. These days trapped in his office only getting short and curt updates on your health from Lucifer. It had been a special kind of torment.

Today he sat once again at his desk staring at some godforsaken bitching of a royal cousin. He knew this whelp. Some backwater thrice removed eons ago. Yet he was demanding an audience? The gall. The ink of their eligible handwriting makes him cross eyed. Would this day ever cease? He looks to his hourglass, the sands within seemingly frozen in time.

"My Lord, perhaps you should take a moment to stretch your legs?" Barbatos moved from his corner. Gloved hand coming to rest on top of the same three lines he had been reading for the past two hours. "This work could wait another evening I’m certain ."

"Did I do the right thing my friend?" Diavolo doesn't even bother answering the question his servant posed. They both knew he wouldn't. "This program. Our human exchange students. Solomon is one thing, but-"

"Your will and path is absolute." Barbatos states. "There are no mistakes within you, merely stumblings onto different paths."

With a gentle push Barbatos moves the hulking demon out of his way to collect and organize the scrolls and letters scattered about the large desk. "You made the right choice bringing them here. Look at what they have done. They are entertainment to you are they not?"

The prince rose knocking his desk aside and descended on his butler. His true form out in all its unholy glory now. His highly condensed magic distorting the study as if he was a black hole. The axis of the room shifts. His priceless collection of books and toys disintegrating from the cold radiation he emits.

It was all for show really. There was nothing he could do to an ancient being such as Barbatos. So he lashed out, throwing a tantrum in the security of his office. The hopeless agitation he felt fueling the flames of his rage. His butler had only added holy water to his already festering wounds.

Barbatos had been by his side for time in memoriam. The crafty bastard had helped raise him. Had shaped him into the ruler he was today. If anyone could break and remold him it would be his oldest companion.

The dark haired daemon waited for the waves of agitation to dry up. Moving only when the prince was in his more presentable demonic form. Large barrel chest heaving as he reined himself in. “Are you back to your senses?” He asks coolly, already categorizing the items to replace and furniture to be mended.

"I had not meant for it to go like this." Diavolo croaks into his hands collapsing back on what remained of his desk. Building a bridge between realms, yes. That noble idea was the greater purpose of this program, but the rest of it. The classes, and dances. The parties where he threw his newest toys about to see how they would react to things other mortals worshiped? That had been for his own curiosity and amusement. Lesser beings navigating a foreign world blind to the dangers that were right under their very nose. Bring a mortal with no magic into his realm? Deep down he knew this was an inevitability. Especially with the freedoms he granted them. He just didn’t think he would get so attached.

“No one believes that you would hurt them on purpose.” His butler cuts off his downward spiral. “It would ruin the program. That is what you are so stressed about, right?” Barbatos eyes him skeptically. Diavolo, himself, and Lucifer had spent many sleepless weeks constructing and negotiating this program. If the Arch Angels heard a mortal was hurt down here it could very well end this little escapade. But the look in the prince’s eyes told a different story.

A warm glow emanated from his cheeks and he was unable to meet the old daemon’s gaze. Ah. "Or perhaps things have changed?" Barbatos smiles coyly up from beneath his bangs. "You are your mother's son after all. Neither of you were ever able to stem your bleeding hearts for long." Diavolo squawked indignantly but didn’t argue. Instead he merely turns a darker shade of red and curses under his breath.

He skipped out on court that evening. Not that he cared much. The other nobles would no doubt use the time to gossip about his whereabouts and uncouth behavior of late. Truth be told, he was avoiding the brothers more than anything else. They had made it expressly clear (some more then others) how they felt about him currently. He wouldn't doubt that Belphegor had a few more brothers on his side now.

Instead he stood at your door once more with a tea tray in hand. He had bumped into Simone on the way. The angel had come to bring you dinner and to check up on the last of your wounds. Celestial magic worked miracles on those who have been touched by the darker arts. Diavolo was grateful for his talents. And, by some miracle, Simone had made it abundantly clear he was not going to bring this to the higher ups on his end either.

Upon seeing the prince slinking up the house's stairwell the other man had simply smiled and offered him the tray. “I suddenly got a message from Luke. Could you perhaps drop this by our friend’s door?” Diavolo had accepted without preamble, large hands dwarfing the platter of little tea cakes and sandwiches. The young cherubs work no doubt. His cooking was a fine treat, and a great incentive to at least open the door.

“Hello again.” He knocks twice. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know I am the last person you wish to see but I was hoping to talk?” Silence greets him. Were you awake? He breathes deeply and focuses on picking up your vitals. You were up, your heart thumping steady somewhere in the room. That was good. “I also have dinner for you. Simone had an urgent matter to attend to so he- for better or worse- entrusted this to me.”

Diavolo searches hopelessly for something else to say. He couldn’t just leave the food and go. He needed to see you. “I don’t plan on staying long today. I understand when I am not wanted, but I cannot help myself but be worried for you. Perhaps this is just me contritioning, because I know I caused this. The amount of times I have been called a ‘ass’ by Solomon over this have been staggering.” He rambles. After another bout of silence from your end he coincides. “I see- I will leave the food by the door and let you rest.” Defeated he puts the food down and turns to leave.

The door clicks open slowly. One bloodshot eye peeking through the crack. “Oh mio piccolo mortale.” He loses his grip on your shared tongue at a loss. You looked- you must have been in the hall longer then he or the brothers had known. Such damage couldn’t be done in a few moments. Your skin was healing as nicely as Lucifer had said, but the deep purple scarring still remained on the surface. The burn pattern of it all was random. Twisting wounds that reflected an oily sheen from the light of the hallway. “I-.”

“I know-” You cut him off with a raised hand. “and I feel as though I owe you an apology too.” Your voice was so weak and shaky. A mockery of your normally strong and jovial tone. Hearing you laugh at school had brightened the dreary halls. He hadn’t realized it until you weren't there.

“You owe me nothing.” Diavolo says in earnest. He watches you contemplate your next words before throwing whatever you were going to say away.

“Would you like to come in?” Your eyes drop to the tray. “Luke always makes more than I can eat.”

“I don’t think that would be wise.” He backs out. All his plans crashing and burning around his feet. His actions had been irreparable.

“Perhaps not,” You open the door wider taking the tray and heading to your side table, leaving him no room to argue. “But then again, being a lamb among such wolves as yourself and the brothers isn’t smart either.” You meant it as a joke but he couldn’t even muster a chuckle. It was true. Gods. “Dia-” You approach him again but falter at the last second.

As much as you wanted to be close to him again the memories were still so fresh in your mind. The cold hell fire of his magic ensnaring you, searing your skin. The whispered words of sinners long since past still echoing in your head, all in languages you’ve never heard before. The worst though had to be the screaming. Lost souls begging for help. Some sounded so familiar…You shutter involuntarily.

You wanted to hate him for this. Curse him for putting you through this pain. But how much could you blame him? Or any of them? They were daemons. Whether he meant to hurt you or not, it truly had only been a matter of time before it happened. It would be hypocritical of you to fear or hate him forever over this. Six of the seven brothers have threatened your life before, and you have forgiven them. Hell, one of them actually killed you. What’s more was that Diavolo’s wrath hadn’t even been directed at you.

Wrong place at the right time; seemed to be your forte. “Please, come in.” You repeat again firmer than before mustering up either courage or sheer human stupidity to order him in. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. “We need to talk.”

He enters, following at your heel like a lost puppy. All air of princedom gone as you clicked the door shut. Diavolo fiddles with his hands, old habits from childhood coming with his nerves. He didn’t know what to expect anymore. Yelling? Some kind of beratement? A plea to go home and never look back? He would let you.

You pass by him, giving him a large berth of space to get to your seat. “Tea?”

Diavolo jerks his head to you. He had forgotten momentarily the plate of food he had used to get access to you. You smile sheepishly pushing it and a plate of sweets towards him with your unbandaged knuckles. He doesn’t move till your hand retracts back to your lap. You jerk your head to the open seat waiting for him. You weren’t going to take no for an answer.

“I- thank you.” The daemon sits making himself as small as possible in the straight back chair. He takes the porcelain and drinks mindlessly. The scalding hot tea doing little to help the tightness of his throat, but it did thaw some of the ice in his mind.

“Are-how…” He fumbles so unsure of what to do next. “I see you’ve been keeping up with your school work.” Diavolo closes his eyes, wincing internally at his words. That’s what he comes up with? Idiotic.

You smile anyway, eyeing the massive pile of books and paperwork spewn about your bed. “Yeah. I’ve taken to doing my school work with Levi in his room. Mammon and Beel are nice enough to drop it off to the teachers when they are due.” He nods. He knew this of course. But it was nice to hear it from you. But yet, you don’t meet his eyes. Far too afraid to see what hid behind them.

The thought of being dragged back into those dark depths again makes your pulse quicken. You instead stare at your nail beds, finding them more interesting. They were purple now. The nails stained black by the contact with his magic. “Will- will that go away?” He asks. Demonic curses or taints were nigh impossible to remove fully. Disgustingly, he hoped they didn’t. Then your nails would match his. The darker depths of his soul coo at the idea, happy that in a small way every daemon would know your his. Not as good as a pact, but as close as he could get to being a part of your little mortal life.

“I’m not sure.” You reply honestly bringing your hands up to place them on the table. “Simone and Solomon have done what they could. But, it is as good as it’s going to get for now. They say it could fade with time.” You look up at him, eyes gazing to the left of his face. “Luke thinks I should see a stronger angel.” Diavolo winces, the thought stung, and terrified him. “I told him no.”

That surprised him. This was your chance. The celestial realm had been skeptical from the beginning. If they knew, it would be a perfect caveat for them to step in. “Why?” Finally you look at him. The fear was still there. Hesitation evident in your eyes. Yet you forced yourself to look at him, fighting through your trepidation.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you think of me?”

“Of course.” He replies without hesitation reaching for your cold hands. You flinch but don’t move away. It felt-nice. His warmth chasing away the perpetual chill that covered your fingertips. Idly you stroke his strong hands with your thumbs.

“Then, I think we can work on this privately.” Slowly but surely you felt like you could fix this. Not for the program, but for yourself.

#obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me headcanons #gods have mercy I wanna smooch him so bad

593 notes · View notes

jadienjaystoriesandart · 4 years

Text

Sander Sides - Coraline AU

So when scrolling through one of my favorite channels on here I saw someone mention Janus as Other Father, and this got my creativity going. I’ll hash out the characters and ideas, then give you a basic idea of what is cooking in my head. However, I’m not sure on how I want things to go in terms of plot. But I do have a general idea of the characters and their roles as well as background.

Other Mother: Logan Sanders

In this idea the Other Mother would have been Patton, but given there are so many sides, I thought he’d fit another role better. Then my sister suggested Logan as Other Mother, and it fits for the basic plot I have in mind. He goes by Logic by the others in the Other World, or as they call it the Alternate World or Pocket World.

Logan says he’s the eldest one here along with Patton and Janus, and seems to be the head of the ‘family’. He’s a very stoic mother, pushing his kids, which in this case is Roman, Remus, and Virgil, to be smart. Not in a bad way, he’s a silently content mother, and you can tell when he’s proud of you. He cleans mostly and makes sure everything is in place, and enjoys gardening. Mostly he stays in the study or outside.

In terms of power, Logan is the most powerful of them due to being the oldest person there. And no, he doesn’t turn into a spider being, he actually is a type of bird. Looking alot like harpy when you really tick him off. His buttons are dark blue with silver thread and his skin is warm but overly smooth.

Other Fathers: Patton and Janus Sanders No one is really sure who is older, they’ve always been with each other. Janus enjoys making music and Patton enjoys cooking for the family. Both are very fatherly and enjoy doting on their kids. Going by the names of Morality and Deceit/Self. When mother dear isn’t around, it’s up to the one of the fathers to sort things out. Janus is strange, as in he’s the one who gives the hints something isn’t quiet right. Though it’s unknown if these are his actions or not. He seems to like challenging kids that come to the Pocket World to think about what they are seeing and why. Yet does it a very coy way. Then there are days he’ll do a 180 and ask you not to question anything and actively lie about things. His buttons are dark gold with black thread, and he does have scales on his face still. Though, to a kid that’s nothing. Patton is cheerful and bubbly, his dinners are always the best as is his sweets. He’s the one that mostly sticks to Logan the most, and enjoys gardening also. He’s the first to make sure one doesn’t question, easily deflecting odd things, and is great at distracting people. He is Nostalgia after all, his areas when your near him make you feel so happy and get you lost in happy moments. His buttons are light blue with dark blue tread. Both take on forms of a Frog and Snake when angry, which are terrifying. Their skin is also very rubbery feeling. Other Brother: Virgil Sanders Virgil here is the youngest, looking like he’s only 15 or 16. He’s been here the shortest... and looks oddly like a kid that went missing back in the early 2000′s. The Family calls his Anxiety, and he’s rather withdrawn. But does enjoy playing video games or board games with Patton, Janus, and Logan. Soft spoken, sarcastic, and a little emo spiderling, he’s adored by Patton mostly. Who calls him the ‘Dark Strange Son’ alot. Virgil seems rather happy in the Other World. Stating to little Thomas that this world is much better than anything he could dream of. He’s however hesitant to answer questions about things not inside the Other World. Telling Thomas to not think about that, and just be happy. He enjoys his room/the attic, and outside in the front yard. When angry, Virgil is the one with the spider form, taking on a more glass like look and his skin is cold to the touch. His buttons are dark purple with light purple thread.

Other Twins: Roman and Remus Sanders The two Creativity Rascals, they are slightly older then Virgil, but much younger than Janus and Patton. They can warp reality around them when in their favorite spots, be it the Basement for Remus, or the Woods for Roman. Their rooms are actually in the basement in the door near the left side of the house. While Virgil's is in the attic. They serve as the entertainment, coming up with ideas on the fly to go on adventures, play dragons and knights, or kings and castles. The forest, quiet literally, is their playground. Having their own fort and castle there, and a while bunch of land to cover. The twins play fight alot, but they get along very well and are rather close to one another. And are like the cool older brothers who have alot of fun, but are happy to let the youngers join them. Both have tentacles in this one, though Remus is more slimy than his brother. And when they open their extra mouths on their body when angry, it’s very scary. Roman’s buttons are red with green thread, while Remus is green with red thread. And their skin is like plastic almost. Coraline: Thomas Anderson He’s about 12 in this one, just moved to the country side in a little blue house on the back dirt roads. This town is dreadfully boring, with dull, muted colors, always over cast and rainy. It’s like all the happiness has been sucked out of it and left to decay. Thomas is not upset about the move, as he never had many friends, if any, from his old home. He’s mostly upset with the fact he’s just dull, he’s not allowed to be colorful. And to top it off, his parents aren’t always there emotionally for him. Leaving him completely isolated, even more so when he’s a closeted gay in a very religious family. So when he finds a world where everything is colorful, with three dads, well two and a mom, a family who cares about him, he’s excited. Maybe this move won’t be so bad.

Plot: The idea in my head is that Thomas has moved with his parents to a rather nice when hie father got a promotion. But, like most typical rich families, he’s not really paid attention to. And Thomas feels mostly left out, having no friends to call his own, and just his imagination and books to keep him busy. When exploring his new house, finding the attic and basement locked, and a small golden key, he finds a little door. It’s been walled off, which is a bummer. That is until the middle of the night, when Thomas follows a shadow to the door. Finding it leads to a world that is perfect. The world represents everything Thomas wants, brothers, Roman, Remus, and Virgil. Fathers, Patton and Janus, and a mother, Logan, who actually cares about him. He isn’t sure if this is some very real dream or not. But he’s not complaining, he feels welcomed instantly byt he family. Taken on adventures with Roman and Remus, playing games with Virgil and learning knew things from Logan, helping Patton cook, and Janus teaches him music and among other things. But when after a week of this, Thomas starts to see strange cracks in their personalities. And when they one day ask if he wants to stay forever and be part of their family, it meets getting this pink buttons in his eyes. He’s terrified, and now wonders if he’ll ever escape... or even if he wants to. Notes:

So I’m not sure how I want it to be played out. If the Others are truly evil in just that they want to kidnap Thomas just because they are selfish and/or turn him into a doll. OR if I want it to be well meaning sinister, where they think they are doing Thomas a favor by taking him away from his neglectful family.

One thing to note is they do really like Thomas, regardless of intentions, they do like him. And either way, they want him to stay forever.

Now, I’m not sure if I want with the Other Father for Patton to be controlling Janus or Janus to be controlling Patton. One of them is well aware of what they are doing, but can’t go against the wishes of their controller or Logan. While they are happy, the idea of luring kids tends to hurt them inside.

The Other World is bigger than Thomas things, he’s just in a small area that belongs to Logan. There are MANY others out there. Who lure people away into their realm, for better or worse. It’s like it’s own reality, only everything is just perfect. It’s like a nostalgic trap, much like Patton’s room only worse.

Logan is the main guy, he’s been at this for a long time, and either Patton or Janus is their partner depending on who is controlling who. He mainly lures kids as he likes the taste of their humanity. It’s what he feeds off of, draining them of their everything, and making them like dolls, only with a semi soul. Any who does this too becomes his kid or helper. Logan is fine with this, he enjoys having a family. And he only has to feed every few decades or so. He’s been around for a long time. Most of his ‘kids’ have grown up, and become true Others who have their own areas. Virgil, Roman, and Remus though are still MUCH too young for such a thing. Others are NOT human, nor are they ‘aliens’ either. Best thing I can think of are like Fae, only... less magical as we know it. They are creatures who feed off of emotions and the essences that make people human. Which is why they all feel like dolls.

Others are near immortal should they feed properly, and Others areas tend to just attract people to them. Some go after teens, others kids, some adults, taste is everything. Adults tend to be more fulling, but can be bitter and sour tasting, Teens are half and half depending on situation, and are often spicy tasting. While kids are very sweet, and typically are fulling also depending on how well you’ve gained their trust. If you can get them to agree to being an other, even better. It’s harder than it sounds though.

Each Other does have a specific power that they use. Which I am still hashing out in my head.

They rarely get angry, but boy is it scary when they do.

The key only is Thomas’s interpretation of the entrance way, it can be anything to get into the Other World. It’s all up to the person in how THEY think to get in. It could be walking through two trees making a hole in them, opening a door that is only unlocked on certain days, or even just crawling under your bed. It’s up to the seeker how they wish to get in, which is why the Other World can stay in one spot, no matter the house or thing built on it.

There is no real moral code for Others, their world is very well hidden. But they are very protective of their charges when they find the right type of feed off of. Logan gets extremely possessive of Thomas when he shows up, not as in he punishes the others, but if Thomas ever thinks about leaving or tries too, Logan would lock him up until Thomas gives into despair.

If they are being unruly or try to escape, one way to get them ot agree is by isolating them, and cutting them off from happiness. Which makes kids and teens want to stay once they leave their isolation. Logan dislikes doing this, but going without a food source is rather painful, and he’d rather not put himself or his partner through that. So if he must, he will make sure the target stays. Even if it won’t be as filling as if they agreed willingly.

Also, their areas is often where their power is the strongest.

-0-0-0-0-0-

So Yeah, there it is, if you guys have any question just let me know. And this goes to @fangirltothefullest who when I mentioned this idea to her really wanted to see this. I still need more for it, but I like the concept of it, it’s much different from the books, but that’s what makes it interesting. Could easily be Angst with Happy Ending. Could even get more sinister than this. We’ll see. Might post more about this later. And fanart is well loved, I can draw, but not well enough in my mind lol.

657 notes · View notes

eliemo · 4 years

Text

Getting There

Part Two of The Worst Thing in the World

Summary: Logan says it will take some time. He promises the others will always be patient. Virgil knows this, he just wishes it wasn’t quite so easy to push him back over the edge.

Masterpost

Notes: I plan on writing a bunch of these, so don’t worry! Janus and Remus’s reactions will come soon!

Learned behavior, especially in cases like this, was incredibly hard to unlearn. Logan had made that very clear, many times, assuring Virgil that it was perfectly reasonable to have some occasional setbacks.

A long talk and a cuddle session, while Patton’s go-to medicine, wouldn’t magically fix all their problems.

Logan had insisted on pulling all four of them aside the next day, delving into research and tactics to use to ensure Virgil felt safe, to gradually undo the damage that had been done.

Patton and Roman had been listening intently, nodding along, sure to pause and ask for Virgil’s input whenever it was needed, holding his hand and making sure he was never overwhelmed.

There were some...unpleasant phrases thrown around during the talk. Abuse, trauma, conditioning...it all felt like something dirty. Like he was tainted, broken.

And of course they knew what he was thinking, they were all so kind and attentive, so openly worried, quick to reassure and comfort.

It helped, but...but still. Virgil was still struggling to wrap his head around the fact that all the things he went through, all the things he’d been taught were normal and expected weren’t...weren’t ok. That it wasn’t normal.

He’d deserved it. That’s what they told him. He went through all of that pain because that was just the way it was, and there was no other choice.

Had he really been stupid enough, pathetic enough to just believe that and let it all happen? If he was so easy to take advantage of, so easy to hurt, then why wouldn’t the light sides end up doing the exact same thing, no matter how well meaning they were in the beginning?

He knew it was stupid and unfair to have those thoughts. And to make it worse, he knew they knew he was thinking it.

They wouldn’t do that. They’d sworn it to him too many times to count. Like Logan said it was just...going to take some time to believe it.

And things did get better. Slowly. He might not have even realized progress was being made if it weren’t for the less than subtle praise the three of them kept offering, the pride and hope that was impossible to miss.

As embarrassing as it was, being practically applauded for something as small as forcing himself not to fall into a desperate string of apologies for bumping into someone’s shoulder, he couldn’t deny that it helped to some extent.

He did wish he was doing a little better, though. Sometimes he had to force himself not to flee if someone was in a bad mood, silently remind himself that no one was going to hurt him, that he didn’t need to be afraid, didn’t need to protect himself and hide.

It didn’t always work.

And there were always going to be slip ups. Little mistakes and thoughtless behavior that Virgil would never hold against the others. They were trying so hard and like Patton had said, mistakes were part of being human.

There had been a...particularly bad day during a rather stressful filming week. Their schedule was finally allowing them all a bit of a break, and Virgil had taken up residence in the living room for the afternoon, lost in his own head in a futile attempt to relax.

He hadn’t even realized he’d left some things strewn around. Just a few pillows and blankets- it wasn’t a big deal, he’d clean it up before he headed back up to his room like he usually did. At the time, he was too tired to really give it much thought.

And then Roman had stalked through the living room, nose buried in his notes, mumbling something under his breath. He was clearly swarmed with the work Thomas needed from him, lost in thought and stress, and on his way to the kitchen he’d stumbled over one of the pillows.

Virgil smirked and sat up with the intent of calling the Prince a clutz, hopeful that their familiar banter could reduce some of the tension from the workload, but Roman beat him to it.

“Jesus, Virgil will you clean up your mess?” He snapped, kicking the pillow aside. “I don’t have time to be tripping over your stuff!”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the kitchen, and Virgil had...froze.

It was fine. He knew it was ok, he knew…

But all of that had disappeared in a second, all rational thought drowned out by cold, all consuming fear and memories, harsh realizations that Roman was angry- angry at him, and Virgil had left a mess, and whenever he’d left a mess before he’d been punished--

That snapped him out of his shock, instinct and panic taking over, and he threw himself from the couch and dropped to the floor, gathering everything into a pile and frantically trying to fold the blankets with trembling hands.

It was fine, it was fine, it was fine. He’d made a stupid mistake but he could fix it. It would hurt less if he just cleaned it up.

God why wouldn’t his hands stop shaking? His chest was aching, his grip weak and unsteady. It took far too long to get the blankets folded, and when it was finally done the end result was uneven and lumpy, nothing that would get him out of any trouble.

He didn’t even know when he’d started crying, fear and hopelessness setting in all at once, but suddenly he was sobbing, breaths quick and ragged as he desperately tried to smooth out the blankets, refusing to focus on getting a hold of his breathing until it was fixed, until the room was clean and Roman didn’t have to be angry anymore—

“Kiddo?”

Oh no. No no no, he wasn’t ready for anyone else to see what he’d done yet. It was still a mess, he’d still left everything a mess and he was a mess, and he was just going to make them more upset with him and then it would be worse.

“Virgil.” There was someone kneeling beside him, and it took him a moment to realize it was Patton. “What’s wrong?”

Virgil shook his head, knowing Patton was looking over the mess Virgil had created, growing just as angry as Roman.

“I-I’m cleaning,” he managed, wincing when his voice came out a pathetic, weak stammer. “I d-didn’t mean to- mean to leave it a m-mess, I was- I was gonna clean it up, I didn’t mean to upset him, I didn’t--”

“Hey, it’s ok.” Patton’s hands were suddenly over his own, squeezing gently to stop Virgil from frantically trying to fix the wrinkles, the folded blankets still not even remotely acceptable. “Breathe, honey. Can you look at me?”

Virgil obeyed almost immediately, not willing to risk making anybody anymore angry than they already were, trying to stop his ragged sobs to no avail.

“There you go, kiddo. Can you take some deep breaths for me?”

Virgil shook his head. “I- I can’t, I have to fix it, I- I’m trying to clean it up, I promise.”

“It’s ok,” Patton said again. “It looks fine, Virge. You know it doesn’t need to be perfect.”

“Yes it does,” Virgil argued, because he knew it did. He was already in trouble, making it perfect and spotless was the only way to lessen the inevitable punishment. “I already made him mad and he’s gonna- he’s gonna...I have to fix it, I have to--”

“Nobody’s going to do anything to you, Virgil.” Patton frowned, moving Virgil’s shaking hands from the pile of blankets. “Who do you think is mad at you?”

And for a second, Virgil wasn’t even sure. Just for a second, he almost said another name, too many memories overlapping.

But then it cleared slightly, and he was only blinded by the current panic of what he’d done, still unable to fully grasp what was being said to him.

“R-Roman, he...I didn’t realize that he wanted it clean I-I didn’t know and I ruined it and he’s upset and he’ll--”

“Slow down, kiddo,” Patton said, for some reason looking even more distressed when Virgil snapped his mouth shut, watching the moral side with wide, wary eyes. “Roman’s a bit distracted today, I’m sure he isn’t upset. He probably doesn’t even realize.”

Virgil hadn’t even noticed until Patton frowned down at their hands, but he’d been desperately fighting against the other side’s hold, frantically trying to go back to smoothing out the blankets without even realizing.

“Here,” Patton said, gently easing him back. “How about I go get Roman, and then we can--”

“No!” Virgil had ripped his arms out of Patton’s grip, scrambling backwards without any clear thought of what he was doing. “N-no, no Patton, please let me finish, let me just try, I can do it I swear, he doesn’t have to be upset, I can be better, I can fix it please--”

“Honey,” Patton tried, and Virgil knew he was scaring him but he couldn’t seem to stop. “You’re ok. I promise. Remember what we said? You’re safe with us.”

Virgil curled in on himself, hunched over on the living room floor, mind scrambling desperately to latch on to what Patton was saying, trying and continuously failing to make sense of the warped reality his panic had created.

“Please don’t get him yet,” he found himself begging. “Please, not while he’s angry, please, he’ll hurt me, I don’t want him to hurt me again.”

And that was when Virgil had known, both he and Patton, that he wasn’t talking about Roman anymore.

But he didn’t stop his pleading, and Patton didn’t even hesitate, carefully lowering himself beside Virgil who forced himself not to flinch away.

The thought of fleeing to hide briefly crossed his mind. Patton would eventually call Roman in, and Roman would see the mess Virgil still hadn’t cleaned up, and he’d still be angry.

Virgil had tried hiding before. It didn’t always work, and it often led to worse punishment once he was caught, but on the off chance that he got away, the anger had usually faded by the time he resurfaced.

Usually. It often wasn’t worth the effort.

“You’re ok,” Patton said again, pulling him from his thoughts. “I’m right here. I won’t let anyone hurt you, Virgil. Ever again. Can you breathe with me, please?”

Virgil nodded, something screaming at him to obey, just do what they wanted and it would be ok…

It took an embarrassingly long time for Patton to talk Virgil down, for Virgil to even remember where he was, what exactly he was so afraid of.

But it all came back, slowly, the real world filtering in around the panic, the soothing voices, the gentle reminders that he wasn’t in any danger.

Oh. Great, he’d done it again.

It took Virgil a second to come back fully, blinking as he registered Patton sitting beside him, watching with wide, teary eyes.

Oh, god.

“I’m sorry,” he managed, now for an entirely new reason. “I’m ok Patton, I just thought...fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out like that.”

“Language, kiddo,” Patton said softly. “You don’t need to be upset with yourself, and you have nothing to apologize for.”

Virgil’s breathing was still too shallow, his chest aching with each gasp, and before he knew it he was reaching for Patton, letting himself melt into the other side’s embrace.

He managed to keep himself from crying again, just barely, closing his eyes against Patton’s ever soothing words of comfort and safety.

They’d been down this road too many times by now, some days worse than others, and Virgil had no idea how long his family was going to put up with this. Their patience seemed endless, but everyone had their limit.

“I’m trying,” he said after a moment, desperately needing Patton to understand. “I’m trying, Pat. I‘m trying so hard to be better, I swear I’m trying, I don’t want to keep doing this but I just--”

“You’re making more progress than you think, kiddo,” Patton said, cutting off his frantic rambling. “And we’ve already told you, there’s no rush. It’s gonna take time, and that’s ok. We aren’t going anywhere.”

They’d all told him that at some point. Told him he was getting there, that it wasn’t his fault when he slipped up, that they wouldn’t give up on him.

They’d all promised, all in their own way. Virgil only wondered if they’d realized just what it was they were signing up for.

He didn’t get a chance to respond before Patton was carefully pulling away, smiling almost apologetically.

“I’m going to get Roman now.” He frowned at the way Virgil’s shoulders tensed, eyes cast downward. “I’ll tell him what happened. But we can’t just leave these things unaddressed, you know that.”

He did know. Logan had said it enough times, along with countless other tactics and behaviors to help Virgil that never seemed to work.

Nothing ever worked. He couldn’t even recover properly.

But when he nodded miserably Patton just gave another small smile, squeezing his hand before standing from the couch and hurrying into the kitchen.

It couldn’t have been more than five minutes, Virgil left to hunch over himself beneath his pulled up hood and press into the corner of the couch, when there was the sound of footsteps rushing towards the living room.

He managed not to flinch, just glanced up and watched as Roman practically came barreling into the room, eyes wide and face flushed.

Princey looked like he wanted to rush across the room to Virgil’s side without a second more of hesitation, but a glance back at Patton in the doorway stopped him in his tracks.

“Virgil, I-I’m so sorry.” He was breathless, and Virgil’s throat felt tight at the waver in his voice. “I should have known...I wasn’t even thinking--”

“It’s ok,” Virgil said, willing his hands to stop shaking, pushing down the cruel, nagging voice shouting warnings in the back of his mind. “Really, Roman. It was a stupid overreaction. It’s on me.”

Roman took a careful step forward, only moving the rest of the way to the couch when Virgil didn’t immediately tense up or move away.

“I am sworn to protect you,” he said, voice oddly small as he lowered himself beside Virgil. “I was stressed and distracted- but that's no excuse. I should never have allowed myself to do or say anything that could make you feel unsafe.”

Virgil let out a trembling sigh, the obvious guilt in Princey’s eyes like a punch to the gut, so painfully undeserved, and all his fault.

He took Roman’s hand, noting how the creative side almost instantly relaxed at the physical contact. “You were stressed, and you just asked me to pick up my things off the floor. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.”

“And I shouldn’t have been so aggressive,” Roman said. “You have no reason to be ashamed of your reaction, especially with the stress you’re under. I promise it won’t happen again, Virge.”

The reassurances, as always, settled something in Virgil’s chest, breaths coming a bit easier, a weight gradually lifting from his shoulders. But it still just felt...wrongly placed.

“It’s ok if it does,” he said, finding himself leaning against Roman’s side. “We’re...learning, right? All of us? It’s- it’ ok if we have slip ups. It happens.”

Logan had said something similar to all of them countless times before, his words of course were much more steady and eloquent, but Virgil knew Roman would recognize the words for what they were.

“You’re right.” Roman still sounded unconvinced, but Virgil couldn’t bring himself to dwell over it too much when he was being pulled close, once again enveloped in strong, safe arms. “And we’re getting there. Together.”

It wasn’t the first slip up that had sent Virgil back into that awful, panicked state, and it definitely wasn’t the last.

It was stupidly easy to trigger him back into that mindset, convinced he was too much, that he’d done something horrible, that he would be punished and hurt accordingly.

He was assured it was ok, that it was “normal” to react like this after going through the things he had, but Virgil was almost sure he was taking an absurdly long time to show any improvement.

But then again...maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

Improvement could be so slow, so small, that maybe the bad just sometimes happened to overshadow the good.

The first time Virgil really noticed it, he’d been finishing up putting away some clean dishes, Logan setting the table for dinner while Patton and Roman idly chatted over their cooking.

“Virgil?” Logan called. “Those glasses actually go in the other cabinet to your right. Do you mind moving them?”

Right, he’d known that. “Oh, yeah. Sure.”

It was only a few cups, and he wordlessly moved them to the next shelf over before closing the cabinet and making his way over to the couch until dinner was ready.

Or at least...that was what he planned on doing before realizing that everyone in the kitchen was staring at him.

They were trying to be sneaky about it, but Virgil could very clearly see everyone was watching him with wide, poorly hidden smiles, looking ridiculously giddy like he’d just announced he’d won the lottery.

What the hell?

“Uh, guys?” he asked. “Everything ok?”

Logan was the first to speak, and Virgil wondered if he was imagining the pride radiating from the logical side.

“Everything is satisfactory, Virgil,” he said, reaching forward and squeezing the other’s shoulder.. “Thank you for doing the dishes.”

Before Virgil could even consider calling him back as he walked away, Patton let out a noise that could only be described as a squeal, practically flinging himself forward to envelope the anxious side in a tight hug.

“I am just so gosh darn proud of you, kiddo!”

“I- what?”

Even Roman was looking like he was forcibly holding himself back from joining in, and the Prince was actually bouncing on the balls of his feet, smiling so wide Virgil felt something in his stomach swoop.

“Give him some space, Patton,” Logan spoke up, having stopped to watch from the doorway. “You responded extremely well to my request, Virgil, but apologies if we overwhelmed you.”

As Patton pulled away, Virgil once again opened his mouth to ask what on earth everyone was so happy about, before it suddenly dawned on him.

He’d put the dishes in the wrong cabinet, a mistake that had been pointed out by another side.

It was exactly the sort of thing that would send him into a panic, make him lose himself in a fit of frantic apologies, paranoia and anxiety rising up to choke him, to send him under a wave of regression.

But...that hadn’t happened this time.

It hadn’t even occurred to him to apologize. No panic, no fear, no flood of memories and guilt. Just a simple mistake that he’d quickly corrected and then promptly forgotten about.

And he still didn’t feel the need to apologize or get out of the enclosed space.

Huh.

“See? I told you,” Roman said, leaned up against the kitchen counter. “We’re getting there, Stormcloud.”

And...yeah. Virgil supposed he was right. It was slow, sometimes almost invisible, but that really didn’t matter. They were getting there.

520 notes · View notes

hirikka · 4 years

Text

twisted thrice about the tree

For @mikkeneko! Written for @thewitchersecretsanta

Rating: G Relationship: Geralt/Jaskier Summary: Jaskier finds Ciri just after a sorcerer from Nilfgaard has cursed Geralt—together they need to find a way to break the curse.

on AO3

Jaskier had been doing his best to avoid danger. It was a new thing for him, and he didn’t think he was a huge fan. He felt that he had to give it a fair shake, after his near-crippling incident with Reince—which had been particularly galling, as he hadn’t even sung any of the White Wolf cycle in months, but that was not the point. The point is that he is avoiding danger, so he should absolutely not run into the dark woods towards the sound of an explosion.

His legs do not seem to have gotten that memo. He curses under his breath but keeps running. It doesn’t take him long to find the source of the explosion—an area of flattened trees that stretched into the distance. Jaskier stops at the edge and thinks very hard about turning around. Until he sees a dragon lift off the ground from just over a ridge and take off into the sky with a flash of silver wings. The dragon circles high above and lets out an earth-shaking roar. A high pitched scream comes from over the hill and Jaskier runs in that direction. He crests the hill just in time to see a portal flash open—there is a man in Nilfgaardian armor holding the arm of a child, pulling them towards the portal. The dragon roars again and Jaskier feels a sudden chill as the creature's shadow blocks out the sun. He has only a moment to act so he springs forward and whispers a blessing on his dagger before he throws it. It flies straight and true—striking the Nilfgaardian in an eye. The man stumbles, releases his grip on the child, and falls. The portal blinks out as he lands. For a moment the clearing is silent. Then the dragon lets out a high keening noise and flaps upwards, the winds buffeting Jaskier and whipping up debris from the destroyed trees.

“No! Wait!” he hears the child scream.

When the dust settles enough that Jaskier can see again, the dragon is gone. A single silver scale lies by Jaskier’s feet. He picks it up and then moves down the slope towards the child. They’ve fallen to their knees in the dirt.

“Are you injured?” Jaskier asks when he is close enough. The child startles to her feet at his approach, watching him with wary green eyes.

“No,” she answers after a moment.

“Good,” Jaskier says. He moves over to the soldier to retrieve his dagger. “Are you traveling alone?” He can’t see any sign of other people—but the destruction around makes it impossible to tell for sure.

The girl hesitates. “I wasn’t.”

“Did he…” Jaskier trails off pointing at the soldier, hoping his point is clear.

The girl nods, a little tentative.

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier says. She’s not the first orphan he’s seen in the first few months of the war, and she’s unlikely to be the last. “I would be happy to help you to wherever you were heading.” He can see the suspicion in her gaze at his offer. “My name is Jaskier.” He hopes that she’ll recognize the name at least, a famous bard will hopefully feel like a safer traveling companion than a strange man.

The girl’s eyes widen. “The bard? You traveled with”—she hesitates for a moment—“with the White Wolf?”

Jaskier is about to respond when he spots a flash of silver on the ground near their feet. He kneels to pick it up and it feels as though his heart stutters to a stop. It’s a wolf witcher medallion—the chain has been snapped but the sight is so familiar and it hums softly under his touch. He looks at the girl, she’s gone tense and still in front of him. “Yes, I traveled with the White Wolf,” he says. “What happened here?”

The girl gulps, glancing towards the sorcerer. “He cursed Geralt. He wanted to separate us, make it so Geralt wouldn’t be able to protect me.”

“Oh,” Jaskier gasps. “You’re Cirilla!”

“Ciri,” the girl corrects. “Or Fiona in public.”

Jaskier thinks of the silver scale in his pocket. “And he turned Geralt into a dragon?”

Ciri nods. “I don’t think he knew me, after he transformed, it didn’t seem… didn’t seem like him.”

Jaskier hums, considering what he knows about transformation magic. Wonders exactly how different the reality is from the songs. “Well, we ought to start by figuring out where he would have gone. Where were you heading?”

“The coast.”

Jaskier blinks. “The coast? Why?”

“He didn’t say exactly,” Ciri admits.

“I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me.” Jaskier sighs. “But I’m not sure if he would have carried on that way, or if he would have gone somewhere familiar…” he trails off, trying to think of any reason he could avoid going to the one person who might know where he was. Unfortunately— “I know someone who should be able to track him for us.”

Ciri brightens. “Who?”

“Yennefer.”

“I don’t want to get involved in whatever scheme you’ve gotten tangled up in.” Yennefer doesn’t even bother looking up from her book.

“Oh well, Ciri, let's go. We’ll have to see if there’s someone else who can help us.” Jaskier says.

Yennefer looks up at that, narrowing her eyes at Jaskier and Ciri. “Why do you have a child?” The disdain in her tone made Ciri press closer to Jaskier. “Nobody in their right mind would trust you with a child.”

Jaskier scoffs. “Please, I’m perfectly responsible.”

Yennefer just raises an eyebrow.

“Alright, fine.” Jaskier huffs. “You’re correct in a way, her true guardian is very much not in his right mind. That’s why we’re here.”

Yennefer sighs and then stands. “Alright, you better come in and sit down. I have a feeling I’m going to need a drink.”

As she leads them into her apartment behind the shop, Ciri tugs on Jaskier’s sleeve. “Will she be able to help us?”

“Of course, poppet,” Jaskier assures her. “She might not be my biggest fan, but she won’t turn you away.”

“Alright, explain,” Yennefer says. “And keep it simple, please, bard.”

“Right. Simple.” Jaskier has heard that before, fine, if she wants just the bare bones of the story: “Geralt’s been cursed into a dragon and we need to find him.”

Yennefer takes a moment to process that. She takes a long sip of her wine. “Why?”

“Why was he cursed, or why do we need to find him?” Jaskier asks. “Although, I suppose it's the same answer either way. This is Cirilla, Geralt’s child surprise.”

Yen’s eyes widen. “His child surprise is the lion cub of Cintra?”

“Yes, so you can see why he didn’t exactly feel like he could snatch her away at any time, the lioness was a bit touchy about the whole thing.” Jaskier’s voice is cool, remembering the words he had overheard on the mountain.

“He was cursed because he was trying to protect me.” Ciri cuts in. Her hand is clenched around the wolf medallion. “I need to help him.”

Yen turns her attention to the girl and softens. “I can create a tracking spell for you.” Ciri lets out a relieved breath but Yen continues. “That will be the easy part. Once you find him you’ll need to find a way to break the curse.”

“I have one of his scales,” Jaskier says. “Would that help in figuring out the details of the curse? How to break it?”

Yen nods, reaching out a hand. Jaskier reluctantly passes the silver scale to her. “The tracking spell will take a few hours to prepare, and I’ll need some time with this to see what I can find out. You can stay here for the night, I have a spare room.”

“Thank you, Yennefer,” Jaskier says, hoping she’ll sense how sincere he is.

She gives a curt nod before pointing down a hall. “And take a bath before you track any more filth into my house.”

“I have good news and bad news,” Yennefer announces over breakfast. “Geralt’s not far, you should be able to reach him in three days on horseback.” She pauses. “I’m not sure how to undo the curse. It’s a mess, they mucked something up rather badly and now it’s too twisted up to have an easy cure.”

“Fuck.” Jaskier and Ciri say at the same time.

Yen glances between them with a bemused look. “It’s not hopeless. The curse got twisted, you’ll need to remind him who he is first.”

“How?” Jaskier asks.

Yennefer gives him a pointed look. “You know him better than anyone, Jaskier, you’ll have to figure that out.” She softens slightly. “Three things. There’s a reason the tales always call for three things, three tasks. There’s a real magic there—three things that remind him who he is and then—”

“Then?” Jaskier prompts.

“Then, you should be able to break the curse,” Yennefer says. Jaskier can sense there is more to it than she’s saying.

“What if we choose the wrong things?” Ciri asks.

Yennefer frowns. “I’m not sure—you might be able to try again but it could also cause the spell to warp again. I wish I could give you a clearer answer.”

“You’ve given us enough,” Jaskier says, hoping to reassure Ciri even as he starts running through ideas, trying to figure out what options they have. “Ciri, can you go and get Roach ready?” Jaskier asks. Ciri gives him a look that makes it very clear she knows exactly what he’s trying to do but she does head outside. Once she’s gone, Jaskier turns to Yennefer. “Alright, what’s the rest of it?”

Yennefer sighs. “If the curse didn’t break when the caster was killed… then the only sure way to break it is the, well, traditional method.”

“Traditional method?” Jaskier asks. He has a feeling he knows what that is, but he needs to hear her say it.

“True love,” Yennefer says, as if it is such a simple thing.

Jaskier stares at her. “Will you—?”

Yennefer shakes her head. “The bond created by the djinn warped whatever Geralt and I have—could have had. I care for him, and I know he cares for me—but it’s not true in the way it would need to be to break the curse.”

Jaskier sighs. “Does true love have to go both ways?”

Yennefer gives him a look that, in another person, he might have mistaken for sympathy. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Jaskier nods in thanks and moves towards the door.

“Jaskier—” Yennefer calls. “Try to do it before the season changes or it may be too late.”

Jaskier grimaces—there are so many ways for this to go wrong and such a narrow path to save Geralt. “Thank you, Yennefer.”

“Good luck.” Yennefer says.

Jaskier steps outside and prepares to save his witcher.

“What are the three things?” Ciri asks once they’ve set out. Yennefer had given them a map, Geralt’s location marked with ink she had infused with a piece of the scale so that it would track Geralt if he moved. He is currently on a stretch of coast between Gors Velen and Oxenfurt—the cliffs of the area mean that it is mostly unpopulated which hopefully means they won’t have to contend with any dragon hunters.

Jaskier considers. “I’m guessing that just his swords and medallion won’t be enough for this. The medallion is certainly one of the things, though.” He runs his hand absently along Roach’s neck. “Unfortunately, he was never a big fan of sharing so I’m not completely sure what else we can use.”

“What about a song?” Ciri suggests. “One of the ones you wrote for him?”

Jaskier glances up at the princess—she looks so hopeful and he hates that he has to admit that he is probably not actually well-suited to help with this. She doesn’t have anyone else to turn to. “He wasn’t a fan of my music, to tell the truth.”

Ciri gives him a skeptical look. “He used to hum them, sometimes, when he was trying to help me sleep. He never sang the words but I recognized the tunes.”

“He did?” Jaskier can’t hide his surprise.

“Yes,” Ciri says, as if it should have been obvious. “He talked about you, about how you helped him.”

Jaskier snorts.

“I’m serious!” Ciri says with a huff. “You were the only person besides his brothers he ever really talked about.” She has an intense look. “I know you’ll be able to figure out what we need to bring him back.”

“Ah, well.” Jaskier is at a loss for words. He wishes he had as much faith that his knowledge of Geralt would be enough. “I’ll certainly do my best.”

“A song, the medallion…” He taps his quill against the page, trying to think. “Ciri, I think you might be the last thing we need.”

“What?”

“Material possessions have never been that important to him,” Jaskier says. “His medallion is a symbol of his profession, his purpose. The song to remind him that he’s more than the monster people claim he is, and you—you’re his destiny. His future.”

Ciri tilts her head. “Really? It's been such a short time… are you sure it wouldn’t be his swords?”

“No,” Jaskier says, he’s as certain that she is part of this as she is that his song will help. “The swords are just tools, he’s lost them before. Gotten replacements. They’re important to him, certainly, but not, I think, in the same way that you are.”

Ciri ducks her head to hide a pleased smile and Jaskier hopes to all the gods that he is right. That they both are. They’ll reach the coast and Geralt tomorrow and he needs this to work. Jaskier lets out a long breath as he watches the dragon disappear from sight. Tries to calm the racing of his heart. He’s so desperate for this to work, so scared that it won’t. He makes sure he is steady enough to pretend at confidence before he returns to where Ciri is waiting a little way back from the cliff edge.

They can smell the salt in the air long before they see the ocean. As Jaskier had suspected, the area the dragon has led them too is at least a day's walk from any villages. Remote enough that nobody is likely to stumble upon him. Of course, if he’s spotted in the air that’s another matter, but hopefully they’ll have Geralt cured before anyone decides to muster up another dragon hunting expedition. The cliffside they approach is empty except for a single great hawthorn tree. The dragon is resting underneath the tree. Jaskier stops their approach to study him. His scales are the color of a stormy sky, silver and grey with tinges of blue and black. He has several horns on his head but is otherwise sleek and sinuous.

He lifts his head and fixes them with a piercing look. His eyes are still golden but they seem so much colder than Geralt’s. “You shouldn’t be here.” The dragon rumbles.

“Geralt!” Ciri cries, taking a step towards the dragon but he lifts his head higher and bares his fangs.

The dragon’s tail lashes—the end seems almost feathered and it stirs up a cold wind as it moves. “Leave this place.”

Jaskier places his hand on Ciri’s shoulder and stares at the dragon’s huge golden eyes. “We need you to come back to yourself, Geralt.” He thanks his years of vocal training for allowing him to keep his voice steady.

The dragon says nothing.

Jaskier squeezes Ciri’s shoulder. “Wait here,” he whispers as he takes Geralt’s medallion out of his pocket and slowly walks towards the dragon. In response, the dragon bares his fangs.

Jaskier stands before the dragon and holds out the medallion. “Here is your medallion, the symbol of your trade, your life. While you wear it, you shall always have your purpose.”

The dragon extends his head towards Jaskier cautiously. “If you touch me, tail or fin, I swear my medallion your death shall be.” The dragon’s words are said in an almost song-like chant—it’s an odd touch, but the whole spell is odd. With the dragon this close, Jaskier can sense the magic; it feels ancient and he wonders exactly what the Nilfgaardians thought they were doing.

Jaskier places the medallion on the ground and steps back with his hand raised to show that he will not touch the dragon. He watches the dragon extend one clawed foot to pull the medallion in close, holding it close to his face. He is still for a long moment before he launches himself up into the air and over the edge of the cliff.

“Is he leaving?” Ciri asks, rushing to stand by Jaskier’s side.

“Hunting perhaps,” Jaskier suggests. “I imagine we’re meant to come back tomorrow, and the day after—three days and three items.”

Ciri makes a face. “Why does magic have to be so complicated?”

Jaskier huffs a laugh. “I’ve often wondered the same thing. Come on, let's see if we can find a decent spot to set up camp.

They had set up camp in a copse of trees far enough back from the cliff edge that the wind was not quite so biting. They eat a quick breakfast and then head back towards the hawthorn tree. When they arrive, Geralt has not returned. Ciri, needing something to burn off her nervous energy, starts running through her training drills. She practices with a sword that Geralt must have had made for her—it is finely made, well balanced, and she is clearly comfortable with it.

Jaskier watches for a while before he settles down with his lute, trying to figure out what song might work to bring Geralt back. It’s a daunting task whe he’s still not entirely sure that one of his songs will even help, but they hadn’t been able to come up with any better ideas, so he’ll have to hope that destiny is on their side.

The sun is high in the sky when they hear the rushing sound of the dragon’s wings. They watch as it lands lightly on the edge of the cliff, water slides off his scales, sparkling in the sunlight. He coils himself around the tree. He regards them with clear interest. The medallion hangs around his neck.

“You’ve come again.” The dragon observes. “To offer another trinket?”

“Ah, not an item this time but a song!” Jaskier says, walking as close to the dragon as he dares before he adjusts his lute. “The medallion was to remind you that you are a witcher,” Jaskier explains. “The reason you walk the path. The song is to show you how important that is, how despite the difficulties, you remain good. A hero.”

The dragon rumbles something that sounds vaguely like disagreement.

“You can’t argue that you aren’t a hero when you don’t remember who you are.” Jaskier snaps. He’s had this fight enough times with Geralt when he does know himself.

The dragon snorts but he doesn’t protest beyond that. He lays his head on the ground gestures for Jaskier to proceed with a flick of his tail.

Jaskier takes a deep breath and starts to play the familiar notes of ‘The stars above the path’. It is not quite as popular as ‘toss a coin’ but it has more truth to it, written after Jaskier and Geralt had traveled together for almost a decade. Geralt is still heroic, of course, but the story is more complex—not meant to merely please a crowd at a tavern. Jaskier had tried to show the truth of Geralt—his compassion and bravery, his humanity. It’s the closest to a love song that Jaskier has ever written so obviously about Geralt, not that the witcher noticed.

The dragon seems intrigued at least, his focus never wavering from Jaskier as he sings, and by the final chorus his tail is twitching in time with the music. When the song ends the dragon moves slightly closer.

“He is your friend? Geralt?”

“He is,” Jaskier says easily. It has been almost two years since he had left Geralt in the Kestrel Mountains, but he still considers the witcher his friend.

“Then I hope your plan works.” The dragon says before he takes off, flying out over the open water.

The third day dawns blustery and cool, the scent of frost in the air reminding them they do not have much time left. Jaskier tries to keep himself calm and steady, he can see how frightened Ciri is and doesn’t want to do anything that might make it worse.

They still don’t know exactly what will happen if they have chosen wrong and they are not able to restore Geralt to himself, but Jaskier cannot imagine they will be allowed a second chance. He fears that the dragon will turn on them, but cannot do more than pray that if that happens he will be strong enough to hold it off long enough for Ciri to flee.

They wait in silence for the dragon to return—watching as he crests the cliffside and curls through the air above them. He spirals down until he is once again on the cliffside facing them, the long line of his body looped around the tree.

“Ready?” Jaskier asks, rising to his feet and offering Ciri a hand up.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Ciri asks.

“Then we go back to Yennefer and see if she has any other ideas,” Jaskier says, hoping that will reassure Ciri.

Ciri doesn’t look convinced but she lifts her chin, shifting to stand at her full height. “Let’s go.”

Jaskier nods and together they walk towards the dragon. The dragon watches, tail twitching like a cat preparing to spring.

“You’ve returned.” The dragon rumbles. “What will you try today?”

Jaskier takes a deep breath. “Today, your destiny”—he steps back and Ciri steps forward to take his place—”Cirilla, your daughter.”

“Daughter?” The dragon rumbles the question, eyes narrowed.

“Fate brought us together,” Ciri says, voice fierce and determined. “You swore that we would always find each other, that you wouldn’t leave me!”

The dragon moves his head closer and Jaskier holds his breath.

“Geralt, I need you. Your destiny is more than this.” Ciri says.

The dragon withdraws rapidly, coiling tighter on himself until the tree within his coils creaks a protest. “Destiny is cruel, child.”

Jaskier steps closer, placing a hand on Ciri’s trembling shoulder. “Destiny may have taken much from you, Geralt, but it has given you a gift. A chance for happiness. To have a family.” He takes a deep breath. “Would you abandon your child the way you were abandoned? Do not let this curse turn you into a monster.”

“I am a monster.” the dragon growls.

“You aren’t,” Jaskier says. “You are a witcher, a hero, a protector, a father. You are so much more than they say you are. More than you think you are.”

The dragon darts forward until he is so close to Jaskier that his breath ruffles the bard’s clothing. Jaskier stands still, resisting the urge to push Ciri behind him as the dragon examines them. His golden eyes seem different, warmer than they had before and Jaskier holds his breath—hardly daring to hope.

“You are so sure?” the dragon asks. “Even after the Kestrel Mountains?”

Jaskier sucks in a breath, if the dragon can reference past events then perhaps Geralt’s mind is becoming his own again. “Even after that,” Jaskier says. “Anger doesn’t make you a monster.”

“I hurt you.” the dragon says.

“You did.” Jaskier agrees. “That doesn’t change who you are. You are still a good man, Geralt. You’ve made mistakes but that doesn’t make you a monster. It makes you human.”

The dragon, Geralt, gives a slow blink. He doesn’t speak but he doesn’t move away either.

“What now?” Ciri whispers.

Jaskier gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Classic curse-breaking,” he says. “The traditional ways always work best. Hopefully.” He takes a step closer to the dragon who is still not moving—just watching with an intense focus.

“Gods, please let this work,” Jaskier whispers, and then he leans in and presses a kiss to the dragon’s snout.

For a long breathless moment, absolutely nothing happens. Then everything goes white.

Jaskier comes back to awareness slowly. His ears are ringing. He feels a small hand holding his own. With a great deal of effort, he opens his eyes, blinking away bright white spots. For a moment he is staring up at the empty sky and then Geralt is there, warm golden eyes scanning his face. Jaskier reaches his free hand up and touches the loose hair falling around Geralt’s face.

“It worked.” Jaskier hears himself say, voice breathless and awed. He touches Geralt’s cheek and marvels at the way Geralt presses into his hand.

“It did.” Geralt agrees. “Thank you, Jaskier.”

“Oh, well. It was no trouble.” Jaskier lies cheerfully. He’s not certain how to act, how to deal with the fact that Geralt is his true love. “I ju—”

The rest of what he was going to say is silenced and then forgotten completely as Geralt leans in and kisses him. It is soft, gentle and so tender Jaskier almost wants to scream. After a long moment, Geralt pulls back, just slightly, so that he can press his forehead against Jaskier’s.

“I missed you.” Geralt says.

“Oh,” Jaskier murmurs, at a loss for words. Any anger he felt fades away in the face of Geralt’s little smile. He looks radiant with happiness.

“Um. I hate to interrupt,” Ciri says. “But we should probably find somewhere to spend the night?”

Geralt moves away with a great deal of reluctance. He rises fluidly to his feet, looking no worse for his time as a dragon. He reaches out a hand to Jaskier and pulls him to his feet. He doesn’t drop Jaskier’s hand.

“What now?” Jaskier asks, trying not to appear as nervous as he feels.

“We’ll find a place to camp tonight.” Geralt says. “And then… would you come with us?”

“What?” Jaskier asks. “Where?”

“We’re going to Kaer Morhen for the winter. Will you come?” Geralt actually looks nervous as if the answer isn’t blatantly obvious.

“Geralt,” Jaskier says softly. “I’d follow you anywhere. All you had to do was ask.”

“Hm.” Geralt’s mouth tilts into a tiny smile. “Good.”

#geraskier #geralt #jaskier #geraskier fic #fairy tale inspired #my writing #my fics #mine #txp

157 notes · View notes

thosewickedlovelies · 3 years

Text

we could be Dreamers - Prologue

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x GN!Reader

Rating: T

Summary: How this world came to be

Word count: 1,671

A/N: Hiii friends 🤗 soo there’s not really a lot of plot or Marcus Moreno :( here, but consider this a prologue/worldbuilding for a Marcus Moreno x reader fic I may eventually write lol. I’m really interested in how this universe got from The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl to We Can Be Heroes, because like. Sharkboy and Lavagirl were literally just some kid’s imaginary friends that somehow magically became real, so what does that mean for the other Heroics? Where did they come from?? So I kinda wanted to write something that would make you Think :) and explore the ramifications of such a transformed universe.

Consider my previous Marcus Moreno fic a prelude to this prologue 💗

It was a little unnerving sometimes, being in a room with so much power. No matter that this particular training arena at Heroics Headquarters was at least the size of an American football field- when all of the Heroics are gathered in the same confined space, focused on a single purpose, you can feel it. Like their power prances tauntingly in the corner of your eye, slipping away when you try to look directly at it. Like it winds through the air, worming its way into your veins, so your very blood breathes at you to run, run, run.

Not all of the individual Heroics gave off such uncanny vibes; some were simply ordinary people with extraordinary abilities. Techo-No, for instance, and his gift for creating fantastical gadgets. The implications of his works relevant to the world at large could be worrying, but he had limits. He was just a man. Determined, and creative (even more so with his son throwing ideas at him), but ultimately human.

Not like those with powers who’d been Dreamed.

Take Sharkboy. The temper for which he’d been infamous in his youth had cooled, but when he snapped, he did so literally- blade-sharp teeth an audible clash when he bared them in a ringing snarl. Any water in the room would roil and froth- but the most hair-raising sight was his eyes, tinged with the unreadable, abyssal blackness of his namesake. Focused with a predator’s calculation on the object of his fury. (It made you think that, ironically, his temper had cooled too much- concentrated into something as icy and merciless as the depths of the sea. Just as well his wife was a lava goddess).

It was well-documented that Sharkboy could influence his oceanic kin, seeing as he was half-shark himself. Some marine biologists postulated- in low voices- that fluctuation in his emotions could unknowingly influence shark activity no matter how far from the sea he was. But nobody at Heroics Headquarters had ever dared suggest attempting a study.

That you knew of, anyway. You wouldn’t be surprised if there was a classified government branch somewhere which dealt solely with more insidious studies of the Heroics. Their weaknesses. Ways to defeat them.

Just in case.

Sharkboy and his emotions had stabilized as his Dreamer matured, but not all Dreamers were so invested in the well-being of their creations, or of the world they inhabited and could inadvertently affect. It was suspected that not all Dreamers knew that they had Dreamed at all, that they unintentionally brought Dreams into being far from where they were located and simply never became aware. This resulted in some Dreamed individuals being...unstable. Incomplete, really. Brought forth from a child’s mind, a young person who didn’t yet fully grasp the complexities of existing in this world, or indeed, the intricacies of what made one human at all.

Dreamers were children, more often than not. Their imaginative abilities generally far outstripped those of adults, worn down as they were with the grind of building a real life. The younger the person, the more time and creativity they maintained. The fewer methods they possessed to process their struggles which were grounded in reality, and not their imaginations.

Despite the years that have passed, nobody quite knows what happened to lead up to the Incident. How a single young boy had imagined so powerfully that it had warped reality; how his imaginings had given him the ability to design the universe at will.

The Daydreamer.

Max, as he later insisted on being called. An almost disturbingly innocuous name for a boy who had changed the world. Who had all but envisioned himself into having terrific powers- and enabled others to do the same.

In the years following the Incident, Sharkboy and Lavagirl continued to visit him in secret (Later, scientists realized that this why they recorded occasional, inexplicable disturbances in seismic and marine activity). But it wasn’t long before a larger threat to the entire Earth appeared- and so did they. To defend the place which they declared to be their new home. Though they had been willed into existence to protect Planet Drool, as Max determined to relinquish his daydreaming abilities and by extension, his dreamworld, so did the planet and its life diminish. Their presence there was no longer required, they’d explained. But earth could still benefit from their protection- especially after the reality of the threat came to light.

Someone else had Dreamed.

It wasn’t clear who, or how, or what their intentions had been. But once it had been said, everyone was forced to acknowledge the truth of it- or at least, admit that there was no other explanation. The villain’s origins were not terrestrial in any previously established sense.

Anyone who had ever met a child could have a predicted it. Too many young people ended up feeling outcast, overlooked, by both their peers and adults in their lives. It should have been obvious from the way they whispered his name. Not Max- a moniker far too average and relatable- but what they reverently regarded as his true title. The Daydreamer. A near-holy figure who had changed the game for youths everywhere. Now they had a way to combat those who plagued them. A way to create or become the superheroes who previously only existed in comic books and TV shows.

Or some did, anyway. Individuals with the strength of will and heart to Dream weren’t rare, but they weren’t quite common, either.

The only truly neutral positive of the Dreamer evolution was that governments everywhere suddenly accepted the need for increased mental health resources. Designed to increase healthy socialization for all ages and give young people ways to process and communicate their emotional needs, such programs were approved seemingly overnight in schools from elementary to university aged. “Small town life” flourished, and many city quarters and apartment buildings took to implementing “community builders” or, less charmingly, “social facilitators”- positions designed to create cohesive areas of living and minimize the kind of isolation and negative feelings that could leave someone to Dream of improving their life.

Nowadays, not all super-powered individuals were Dreamed. The second generation of Heroics was a testament to that. As if the universe itself had reckoned with the self-inception of the Dreamers, and seen fit to provide reality-warping countermeasures of its own.

Less than a year after the Incident, babies with...unique qualities began to be born. Few and far between, it seemed at first. Whispered reports swept from far corners of the globe, a phone tree branching from frantic parents to anyone who could provide even the slightest bit of reassurance. It seemed like doctors everywhere were swapping glances, no one willing to admit what was happening- until a second Villain appeared.

Every incident report said the same thing: a baby started crying, and then the hostages were saved by a power outage. A wash of sparks that darkened half the city.

Webbed with red lightning.

You sneak a look at the fully grown Heroic now, the long braids of her ponytail slipping over the shoulder of her characteristic red training outfit. Red Lightning Fury flexes her fingers as she listens to the head trainer explain today’s exercise- the usual sort of ‘heroes versus villains’ battles, with you and your fellow specialists assisting as villains- but judging by the lack of the smell of ozone, she isn’t yet using her powers. Blinding Fast, on the other hand, appears to fritz in place every few seconds, and you guess he’s running invisible laps to pass the time. It’s hard to tell if that’s what’s causing Lavagirl’s hair to tendril like neon pink smoke even though she’s standing still; usually the hypnotic heat shimmer of her lava flow causes the effect naturally.

You stretch in place while team arrangements are announced. As the majority of the Heroics filter into the stands to wait for their match, the buzzing, writhing presence of their power fades, and you can breathe more easily.

A figure flickers into being beside you, and you jump. “Jeez, Visi! How many times have I told you not to do that?”

Having anticipated your reaction from the countless previous times she’s snuck up on you anyway, Invisigirl laughs. “You think you’d be used to it by now.” Your closest Heroic friend grins at you, all pearly teeth against smooth brown skin.

And she’s right, which is why you were so disgruntled. Having been caught unawares too many times by the invisible hero’s silent movements, you had once asked her to give you lessons. Her instruction had improved your own stealth immensely, and now that you knew what kind of signs to listen for, her attempts at startling you didn’t work nearly as often as they had. But- “It’s hard to focus on anything with all of your powers clogging up the air,” you grumble. The birthed heroes understood what you meant- they felt it too, the nagging hiss of something other in the Dreamed heroes’ energy.

Across the arena, it looks like Miracle Guy and Marcus Moreno are waiting to be your opponents. Interesting. Miracle Guy, with his Dreamed up Superman-like abilities, was the only one who had a way of seeing Invisigirl. What it was precisely, you couldn’t recall. You make a mental note to ask Visi later.

Marcus, however, telekinesis aside, is clearly meant to be the counter to your strengths. The two men are discussing intently, but as if feeling your assessing stare, Marcus glances over. He lifts his eyebrows at you in playful challenge, a hint of a smile quirking his shapely lips before he’s pursing them at his duel-mate again.

Suppressing the pleased flutter down your spine, you turn your attention to the task ahead as Invisigirl dips her head toward you. Planning something clever, you realize, intrigued by the glint in her eye. “Let’s talk strategy.”

When the starting bell rings, your partner vanishes, and your smile curves as sharp and gleaming as the blade in your hand.

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno fic #wcbh fic #wcbh #we can be heroes fic #we can be heroes #pedro pascal characters #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #let me know what you think!!!#🙈🙈🙈#and if anyone wants to help me dream up a plot for this...i have Some Thoughts

26 notes · View notes

prettywarriors · 3 years

Note

Ok ill bite whats the worst mg series

alright, whats the worst magical girl series in your opinion?

Thanks you two for letting me do some yelling. The obvious guess would likely be one of the recent edgelord shows right? Magical Girl Site or something similar? But nay I say, for while MGS and Day Break Illusion and such and what not generally tell you what to expect right away. Don't like super violence and suffering? Watch something else is the clear message from the get go. One of the bait and switch series then like Madoka or maybe Yuki Yuna? For what faults they may or may not have, at least these series do something and are interesting, even if you're not huge on what goes down in the series. A parody then? They range from affectionate to banned in New Zealand but regardless of quality and their feelings for MGs, it's a parody. It's a joke and shouldn't be taken seriously (plus they're usually short so you can just forget about them forever).

So what makes a series terrible then, I am sure you are asking. IMO? Setting expectations for an interesting and enjoyable series, and then dashing them to hell.

Come with me below the cut, as I talk about Key Princess Story: Kagihime Eternal Alice Rondo!

Spoilers abound so if you care about those for a 15 year old series, click away.

Background: Kagihime was a 4 volume manga that ran from 2004-2006 that was picked up for a 13 episode anime adaptation near the end of its run. The manga is created by a pair (Kaishaku) who you may know for making Magical Nyan Nyan Taruto. Kannazuki no Miko, and Steel Angel Kurumi, and the anime had a script written by the same writer (Mamiko Ikeda) for Tenshi Ni Narumon who also did some script writing for Princess Tutu and Seven of Seven. The anime also had 6 character music videos which are fairly simple but a nice addition to the series for the main girls. Discotek has been publishing the anime in the states in recent years, and the manga was brought over by *squints at book spine* Dr Master Publications.

The Premise: Girls transform and enter weird outside of reality spaces to fight each other with giant keys to take each other’s stories to create a third Alice In Wonderland story.

Well, an off-brand Alice story written by Alternate L. Takion, rather than Lewis Carroll/Charles Dodgson, that while the series uses all the aesthetic hallmarks of the tradition Alice, the little we see of the in universe Alice story is clearly different. Which is fine, at the end of the day, it’s still about someone who loves the Alice stories and wishes there was more, and even makes his own fanfiction version. His? Oh yeah, while the girls do all the fighting, the main character is Aruto, a teen boy who loves Alice, and for reasons we don’t know till late game, can enter the liminal spaces that the ‘Alice Users’ fight in. He chases a girl who looks like the Alice he sees in his story, who is named Arisu, and gets roped into this fanfic battle royale. He is also the older brother of the very needy Kirihara, who also ends up being and Alice User. As does Kirihara’s bff Kisa. To round out the group of enemies-turned-friends-who-will-work-together-to-collect-the-Eternal-Alice-without-having-to-fight-eachother group is a young genius researcher Kirika who wants to know more about Aruto’s connection that allows him to enter the spaces where the girls fight.

Then there’s all the other girls, some of whom still have real importance to the story and some who have a few panels or 2 scenes total. But with a whole bunch of girls to design, the creators reached out to a whole lot of other people to have them create designs! Eventually the battle gets down to the last few girls, there’s a confrontation with the guy running the whole thing, and while the anime and manga vary quite a bit the whole time, in both version Aruto ends up with Kirihara. Oh and Arisu was created by Aruto’s super imagination powers.

The Promise: Here on is subjective, particularly with what I personally saw as potential from this series. because I need you to understand how much I want to like this series.

~Alice in Wonderland themed: I know some people aren’t alice fans and that’s fine you do you but as a big alice fan this is great. We have a few alice episodes and themed characters amongst series like CCS and MGRP, and even Alice themes in other series like Tweeny Witches and Alice 19th. But damn it I am down for Alice series.

~Giant Keyyyyyyyys: Yeah yeah Kingdom Hearts but these keys are much more staff like for a lot of the characters which ads and air of elegance rather than the KH ones that for me at least feel well designed for big ol props rather than actual weapons. We also get...

~Weapon variety: It counts as a key if it’s a thorn whip that can be shaped like a key right? How about a giant pocket knife? Crossbows can also be keys. Hush. And we have this variety because

~Guest Artists: For magical girl series where we have a variety of outfits designed by different people, we have Kagihime, Uta~Kata, and uhh I guess Magia Record? But that’s a mobile game with a hella number of characters and with how mobile game works I wouldn’t count it just because it’s less the intent of the series to have variety and more the nature of having lots of girls. (Precure doesn’t count because unless I missed a memo each season’s set is still by one designer). If a series isn’t about a team and therefore doesn’t need cohesion, bringing in other artists is a great way for variety and new looks.

~The long term goal: Fighting with other people who love the same piece of media you do in hopes of creating new material that will be viewed as official? That’s just fandom nowadays. But it’s a legitimate interesting concept, and opens up so many doors for a message for the series, be it ‘what you create is no less valuable than the canon work’ or ‘it’s hard to let go when something you love doesn’t have more to it but you can still love it for what it is’ or ‘bond with the people who like the thing you like ya idiot instead of fighting about it’. The concept is interesting and there are so many narrative ways you can take this.

~Gays: Between the anime and manga, we have at least 5 wlw. Is it a magical girl series without some gays? (side note- the manga had a short thing where the MC wears a girl’s uniform and is pretty comfortable in it and while there is no way this was the intent, between that and the emphasis on the stories that live in girls and how the fight zones have no men, I’m just saying, Trans girl Aruto.)

~Greater Fairy Tale Premise: We meet a Little Match Girl based MG who is obsessed with Andersen rather than the Alice books, and touch on a Sleeping Beauty character in the manga. The manga at least implies that classic stories and fairy tale authors uh. Live on in a liminal space as immortals with world warping powers within that world and there could be opportunities for other girls in the real world to fight for Little Mermaid 2: Electric Boogaloo.

The Good: Everything has positive points, no matter how bad it is.

~Character Designs: Some of those looks slap. As do most of their weapons.

~Backgrounds: I have a strong opinion on backgrounds in anime that can be easily boiled down to old watercolor backgrounds good, modern filtered photos as background bad, and as a 2006 series, this might not be Memole nice but they’re quite attractive.

~Splash Pages: Easily my favorite thing after the designs, each chapter’s title page for the manga just has a character standing in a setting. Which is not everyone’s thing I’m sure but it’s a nice simplistic way to let the characters breathe imo. Even if at least some of the settings were deffo traced. But that’s how backgrounds work to some extent? If I ever get to the Met again, I am tracking down this exact photo, but here is a likely candidate for an example.

~Different Versions: I do not understand the need to make an adaptation that tries to be a 1:1. Kagihime had the same ideas and characters and did some of the same beats but very much had a different finale story and a lot of changes in the middle (like the Alice cops in the manga). Again, not something everyone probably wants I’m sure, but I very appreciate this, especially since the Anime kept good pace with the number of Manga chapters (reading the manga again while watching the anime at 3.8x speed just now was very interesting to see the different interpretations of events in a different medium.)

The ‘Fine’: Yeah.

~Anime Visuals: Look 2006 was still early enough into digipaint that I will give it a total pass on these. The colors are too bright but in a very bland way, the lineart is nothing interesting, and the faces are. Iffy. But it’s not total garbage to look at (probably helped by backgrounds and character designs...) it just came out in an era where not enough people knew how to stylize things to account for the weakness of the tools of the time. (It was 4 years earlier but I feel Kagihime is the polar opposite of Chobits with its painfully bland color palette while still being just. Flat. Sorry for the drive by Chii.)

~Music?: There sure were songs. Obviously, they are nothing to me.

The Bad: CW for.... somehow all the big things to an extent.

~Fanservice: Look, I am fine with fanservice, especially for a series that’s, ya know, not targeted at kids, big Mai Hime fan here even if I would recommend skipping the panty thief episode. And honestly the series generally isn’t fanservicey, at least by the modern standards of having the camera choosing under the skirt rather than an over the shoulder shot like I’ve seen plenty in other shows. Even the sexier outfits like the rose whip dominatrix aren’t bad BUT. When the girls fight. One takes her phallic key and drives it into another girls chest between the boobs while the loser cries in pain and then her book comes out and when the victor rips out pages, the loser’s clothes also rip. It is very SuperS Amazon Trio assault metaphor-y. There’s also a bit of fanservice with the sister becauseeeee....

~Incest: If you read the premise up there, first wow good job because I’m sure not re-reading that, you might have noticed I said MC ends up with his sister. As someone who is a big mythology fan and watches plenty of anime, I have a decent tolerance for your obligatory ‘oh we’re siblings but actually cousins so our feelings are okay’ or whatever the fuck Citrus has going on I don’t know that series and I don’t vibe BUT. I have limits and boy did this series go beyond that because multiple episodes are dedicated to the sister being in love with the brother? And the brother returns her feelings but knows that they are wrong so he put everything he likes in his sister into his version of Alice who, of course, physically manifests as Arisu who he creates accidentally with his uh. Magic imagination powers. But again in both versions MC still ends up with his sister. Hey, at least the manga eventually said the boy was adopted when the sister was like, 3, so if nothing else no blood relations? The anime did not ad this. -_-

~Under Utilized Characters: Arisu’s gradual revelation that she has no childhood memories because she isn’t a real person is so interesting and they don’t do nothing with it but also? That’s the kind of thing I personally would love to dig into and Kagihime, while touching on this world shattering revelation, easily loops back to So Anyway She Should Fight For The Man and to hell with developing a life or personality outside of what has been written for her. The rest of the main 5 were 2 note characters which. Could be worse? The most interesting character ends up being the child genius who accidentally murdered her childhood bestie (and/or lover? depending on version) and her coming to terms with that (the friend is alive but the version changes how and why she thinks she’s dead). Then the villain has the motivation of ‘i lost my creativity and now have become an immortal living outside of normal space and am getting girls to fight each other because that’s like a story so I’m still relevant right?’. But shoutout to the anime for then taking death of the author literally. The numerous other girls are canon fodder outside of like. The manga version of the dead gf and the little match girl.

~Battle Royale: This is not a thing I have an issue with generally. Again, but Mai Hime fan, I need to read MGRP 11, BUT by not developing the non-main girls there is no emotional connection which makes them just canon fodder and that’s boring as sin for a royale system. The initial main character fights revolve so much around the MC guy being there that they fall flat, and the 2 or 3 final battles in both versions still feel without any stakes. Also for a royale thing most of the characters don’t actually die, which cool! Neat! Except when they do? Some nobodies and a somebody are murdered (at least in the manga) and the tone never feels like it’s supposed to be upping the stakes, it’s just. Some people are dead now. And do you want to guess which of the main characters died?

~Gays: Oh boy the best friend of the brother-complex sister is in love with her and (in the manga) dies. She does apparently get better for the last chapter but the death itself is only felt by the rest of the cast for a page or two before we go back to feeling sad big brother wants to kiss his mentally generated sister clone rather than his actual sister u_u. Bury your gays is nothing new, but I wonder if it was also intended to be justified because Guess Who Is Creepy and a bit Perverted? Oh look the lesbian keeps the used swimsuit of her beloved and manipulates events to get an indirect kiss and when she sees the sister trying to strange Arisu for a moment she decides to do it for the sister? It’s not good. You want bad gay rep in a magical girl series, well here ya go. We also had a nobody in the first(second?) episode whose story pages reveal her having a kiss with a girl, and then we also have the prodigy again and- in the manga- her. Uh. childhood lover who she thought she killed but the girl has been wiping her mind over and over so prodigy remembers ‘killing’ the friend and not the she’s alive so she can keep? fucking with her? Toxic!

~Sexual Content: But wait you say, you already covered fanservice! Ah but that is sexual content for titilation. This is sexual content for dramatic backstory! The red riding hood character was sexually assaulted, another character was manipulated into sex first as a teen and then more often to ‘get into the publishing industry’, and the same writer forces some aggressive kisses on the MC. None of it is gratuitous which is nice, but also, was it necessary? Not making a new point for this but read riding hood’s dog was also murdered so unnecessary animal death gets tossed on in there.

~Male Lead: You can have a male, non magical character as the main character surrounded by magical girls. This is not how to do it. If I can make a vicious and hopefully not understood reference, Aruto is basically Tate from the Mai Hime Manga. If you understood that, I am so sorry. If you didn’t, congrats! Don’t read the manga. Or do and send me asks about the iconic final page of the first volume (18+). Anyway, this dude is boring, everything revolves around him, BUT I’ll be generous and say at least this isn’t a harem series? It looks like it out of context but it’s just a triangle with a fun attached scientist and token lesbian.

~Premise: They didn’t make good use of it. The initial goals of ‘take other girls pages from their soul books because if we get enough we unlock a third alice book’ is good! And then we add the twist that that was never going to happen and either if we get all the pages we can grant a wish, or these fights are just happening for the amusement of and asshole. Either way, yeah okay I guess. But at no point do we ever achieve this forbidden wish granting book and the asshole just. Lives. Nothing happens to him. His peers don’t even dunk on him. The only real changes from the beginning and the end of the series are: the siblings are now chill with dating, and the scientist lady won’t turn into a child in magical spaces. Oh. Yeah.

~Why did we make this adult a child sometimes?: I think we know why. Stop trying to get those types of folks to watch your already meh series. I also could have sworn at points in the past looking up images for this series I’ve seen extra art for Yuuri the Thumbelina-y Alice User that seemed like it would fit alongside anything by POP. You know, the Moetan guy. If you don’t know, god I wish that were me.

Wrap Up: I have definitely forgotten some points and am well within my rights to ad to this whenever I remember more points but uh. Yeah.

Listen you want an alice themed battle royale with nice outfits? Rozen maiden is right there. Battle Royale magical girl series that’s good with fanservice? Mai Hime. Series with different outfits while being based on a classic story? Pretear.

Hope anyone who read all of this at least got what I was saying, even if they don’t agree with it. And thanks for reading because whoops.

#why do ya'll let me write so damn many words #thanks ya'll for letting me write so many words #kagihime eternal alice rondo #long post #text #not fashion #whoops 3k words

42 notes · View notes

thanksjro · 4 years

Text

More Than Meets the Eye #32 - Nobody’s Ever Actually Dead in Comic Books

Our band of merry guys-who-weren’t-on-the-Lost-Light-in-issue-#1 approach the shattered husk of the Lost Light, in a gruesome scene that is only slightly marred by the graphic design.

Font doesn’t really suggest danger, does it? Here, for comparison, is something I slapped together in fifteen minutes (including recreation of background) using a font I got off a free font site.

Now, one could say that my version is rather derivative, flat, and arguably cliche, but you know what else it is? Appropriate for the fucking mood of having found a destroyed, hemorrhaging ship after everyone you knew disappeared.

I’m available, IDW! Hit me up.

Theorizing that this is the ship that the Coffin Rodimus came from- remember that? It was a few issues ago- the gang flies in for a closer look. The ship blood is actually something called quantum foam, which allows for quantum space travel to happen. It’s not supposed to be outside of the quantum quills, but the ship’s pretty junked up, so it is.

Because the ship is so very full of holes, the gang can set down for repairs pretty easy. They land in Swerve’s, finding it in less-than-pristine condition. They also find evidence of Crosscut having gotten creative, as a poster for the play he was working on is hung up in the room. Considering he was still writing it when he disappeared, this might seem a bit odd. But then you remember that this is a ship from the future, and it stops being so odd.

Because this is a future ship, with evidence that Crosscut did some stuff, it stands to reason that, at some point, everyone is going to come back from being disappeared.

Just to die.

Which is a bummer, but one crisis at a time.

Megatron disembarks the Rod Pod, with Ravage following, and everyone is just a touch put off by the duo. Everyone but Nautica, who proceeds to commit a microaggression.

Nautica, that’s Soundwave’s father you’re petting like a common animal.

Ravage, angered by this over-familiarity, swats at her. Skids questions letting an active Decepticon roam around, but Megatron brushes off these concerns, saying that finding any still-living crew members is more important. With that, the search begins.

The gang splits up to look for clues, despite Riptide thinking this is a horrible idea. They’re on the clock for this one- the quantum foam is liable to explode if it touches anything, and there’s an awful lot of the stuff floating around right now.

Nightbeat and Nautica leave the rest of the group to their own work, seeing as Nautica has the most appropriate alt-mode for traversing the gaps in the ship.

Man, that’s pretty cool. Wish Nautica hadn’t been regulated to being “girl best friend” for her character arcs, I would have loved to see her do some neat stuff for her own development. Guess that’s what happens when you get introduced as main cast late, and have to compete with all the faves who had dozens of issues to be established and who also don’t have to deal with the whole “token girl character” thing.

The rest of the gang- Megatron, Ravage, Riptide, Skids, and Getaway- start looking in the area they’re already in. Seems a little lopsided, but whatever.

Ravage finds someone almost immediately, identifying Ultra Magnus through smell alone. Only, it isn’t just Ultra Magnus.

The Magnus armor lays not terribly far away, having had its hands cut off to prevent the recall signal from being activated before being gut-murdered.

Gut-murdered wiTH A FUSION CANNON, MEGATRON

Of course, Megatron was forced to destroy his fusion canon after it was decided he would be joining the Lost Light, but you can buy these things off the black market like it’s nothing. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if Brainstorm had a few stashed in his lab.

As it currently stands, nobody can trust the guy who has a storied past of killing Autobots, on a future ship where the only folks who could stop him are dead. Megatron, at least, has the good sense to not argue this fact, and suggests that the boys lock both Ravage and himself up until they suss out exactly what happened.

Meanwhile, over with Nautica and Nightbeat, we run through all the weird shit that’s happened in the last day or so.

Nautica, you’ve been on this ship for months now. How did you miss the fact that the only couple within 800 miles got annihilated by way of Phase Sixer? I feel like that attack might have come up at some point.

Since they’re on the subject of spouses, Nightbeat asks Nautica if she’s married, or if she has friends. Though noting that such a direct line of questioning might get him slapped with someone else, Nautica reveals that she is single, though she does have a best friend. Nightbeat is also single, probably because he pulls shit like this.

While this conversation is going on, Nautica uses her Sonic Screwdriver wrench to open a door with the literal push of a button. Brainstorm tricked out her wrench so hard it turned into a magic wand, which is good, because they’re going to need all the help they can get now that space is literally warping around them thanks to the quantum foam.

Nautica kicks something on the elevator, and that something turns out to be Brainstorm’s mysterious briefcase. Too bad Swerve is gone, he was so invested in what it contained. Luckily, Nightbeat is just as interested.

Back over on the other side of the ship, it seems as though Megatron kept his word about not resisting, as both he and Ravage have been locked in a cabinet. Wonder how that’s going for them.

Oh, better than I expected.

Ravage is fucking pissed that Megatron joined the Autobots, thereby turning his back on everyone who supported his cause during the last four million years. Despite this grievous betrayal though, the Decepticons haven’t stopped moving. Turns out, Galvatron’s in charge now.

But only if Autobot Megatron isn’t some sort of ploy.

It’s at this point that we learn just why Ravage is here to begin with- to see if Megatron’s truly given up the Decepticons, and if he has, to murder him. But first he’d like to know why this is happening.

Megatron views himself as a monster, having perpetuated a war that ended the lives of billions, destroyed the Cybertronian way of life, ostracized his race from the rest of the universe, and killing just to have something to do. He doesn’t like feeling this way about himself, so he decided to walk away from that life by joining the other team.

Don’t think it’s quite that easy to do, but okay.

Ravage isn’t so sure that this change of heart is going to stick, still convinced that Megatron will snap back to his old self with just a bit more time. Problem is, Megatron may not have a ton of that resource left.

Didn’t they build that body in like an hour so you wouldn’t die? Yeah, no wonder it feels as ill-fitting as a twenty-dollar suit. Thing’s probably made out of pig iron and duct tape.

The lights come on before further self-reflection can be done, and the duo realize that they’ve had guests this whole time.

Someone put the kettle on.

Obviously some fucked up shit happened on this ship. Megatron isn’t so sure that it’s him who did these dirty deeds, however, as he reaches into Ratchet’s mouth and pulls out his brain. Which feels like something that doesn’t really absolve one of guilt, but okay.

Also, ew.

Back with Nautica and Nightbeat, things are getting weird.

Now, this sequence might seem confusing at first blush, but this is because the laws of reality are collapsing around them. Going by clues in the background, we can find the proper, linear progression of time, and thus is conversation. This is what is actually happening:

With the mystery of Brainstorm’s briefcase eluding us once again, we move on to see more graphic aftermaths of violence. Poor Tailgate has been nailed to the wall with a chunk of a metal beam that’s almost as big as he is. The mood lighting for this scene is gorgeous, but I’ve hit my limit for exposing y’all to gore for this issue, so you’ll just have to trust me on this one. Then they find something even more interesting.

Who’s ready for Under Cold Blue Stars… 2!

Back over on the opposite side of the ship, Riptide’s found something nasty. It’s a bunch of dead bodies!

Including, uh, Pipes.

Who already died a while ago.

Hm.

All the bodies in this room are in their alts, and it looks like they’ve all been shot and drilled into, for some reason. Skids brings up that he had a friend who could identify the placement of any robot’s brain module just by knowing what they turned into. Then he reaches into a corpse to see what the drill-hole’s all about. It makes him sick, though maybe not for the reason you might think. He gets on the phone with Nightbeat, who’s called to tell them that they’ve found Overlord.

Still locked in his weird body harness.

And decapitated.

Megatron is on the other line, calling because he’s figured out the same thing Skids has. Someone paid a visit to this ship. Someone nasty.

The gang regroups, and Nautica gets the basics on the DJD, because I guess nobody’s mentioned them even in passing in the last six months, either.

God, what do they even talk about on this ship? Certainly not their feelings.

The reason that one room was filled with alt-modes was because of Tarn’s addiction to transforming; t-cogs are easier to remove when they’ve been used recently.

We get a quick 4/5ths-page gore-fest, then it’s back to making it all about Megatron.

Maybe you should have thought about that before you FUCKING DEFECTED, YOU POOL NOODLE.

Nightbeat’s beginning to put two and two together. There’s an Overlord in the basement. That shouldn’t be, because Overlord got exploded by Chromedome when he mercy-killed Rewind. Something is off about the past of this ship.

Before he can establish his MTMTE everybody-lives-but-then-dies AU though, the quantum foam fucks with the ship. These sons of guns need to get the hell out of here, pronto.

Oh god, what now?

Ravage smells someone inside the Magnus armor, someone who isn’t a part of the usual nesting doll lineup. Megatron reaches into the Crackerjack box and pulls out one hell of a prize.

HE LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVES

Chromedome would be so thrilled, if he still existed.

#transformers #jro #MTMTE #slaughterhouse #issue 32 #maccadam #Hannzreads #incoming analysis #text post #long post #comic script writing

65 notes · View notes

codynaomiswireart · 3 years

Text

Gauze in the Wound - Part 24

“‘In sterquiliniis invenitur’ – in filth it will be found. This is perhaps the prime ‘alchemical’ dictum. What you need most is always to be found where you least wish to look. … In rejecting our errors, we gain short-term security – but throw away our identity with the process that allows us to transcend our weaknesses and tolerate our painfully limited lives. …In participating in the process, the alchemists identified with the exploratory hero, and turned themselves unconsciously…into ‘that which redeems.’ This identification was complicated by the fact the the alchemist also considered himself as partaking of the state of matter – as belonging in the ‘state necessitating redemption.’ This basically meant that the alchemist viewed himself, at least in part, as occupying the same category as ‘matter’ (as well as being that which could become ‘gold,’ and which could aid in the transformation). … The alchemist was an unredeemed, suffering man, in search of an inexpressible ideal.”

~ Jordan Peterson, Maps of Meaning: The Architecture of Belief

“‘But I am not your judge. We must go to your true judges now. I am to bring you there.’ ‘My judges?' ‘Why, yes, child. The gods have been accused by you. Now’s their turn.’ ‘I cannot hope for mercy.’ ‘Infinite hopes – and fears – may both be yours. Be sure that, whatever else you get, you will not get justice.’ ‘Are the gods not just?’ ‘Oh no, child. What would become of us if they were?’”

~ The Fox and Queen Oruel, Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis

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

“Cursed short arms!” the un-man grumbled, reaching to pull himself up the rocky slope. What had begun as such a delight in wearing the boy’s form was now becoming annoying as he climbed his way up the mountain. While Zhan Tiri did have some of his additional strength to assist him, even that couldn’t make up for the smaller stature he now donned. But it would be worth it soon. Soon he would be back in his original body, and then he could really get to work!

“And as for the boy,” he thought aloud as he pulled himself up. “He’ll still be useful until I can get the actual Moonstone for myself. If he behaves, I might even let him join me as a disciple! Now wouldn’t that be nice – the Heir of Demanitus as my servant! Ha ha! Come to think of it, it’s been a long time since I’ve had any competent servants.”

The un-man scowled now, thinking of his previous pawns. “Curse them,” he spat, gripping another rock. “Inept fools. And Gothel! That traitorous, vain, sniveling coward! Stuck around just long enough to get her hands on the incantation, and then what did she do? She went and hoarded the Sundrop for herself! Fah! I should’ve figured. She was always the worst of my followers. Tromus may still be of some use I suppose. And Sugracha…Well…” the demon grinned wickedly. “She had her chance…and I’ve made use of what was left.”

Zhan Tiri gave another grunt of exertion as he finally reached the top of the rocky gorge he’d been scaling. The land had changed a bit since he’d last been there. The trails leading up to Janus Point had become rough and overgrown now. He could remember the days when it was well-worn from those who traveled there to engage in dark rituals. Now it was all a deserted wasteland – nearly forgotten like a bad dream by those living in the kingdom below.

“But not for long,” he thought as he adjusted the mirror strapped to his shoulders, continuing his hike. “Soon, their nightmare will rise again!”

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

Varian blinked, his brain trying to catch up with what had just happened, like suddenly waking up from a dream. He felt like he couldn’t move. Part of him didn’t want to move. A part of him wanted all time to freeze here like this. He almost didn’t care if it might all be an illusion fed into his brain.

Xavier was here. Ruddiger was here. His friends were here. Xavier said it would be all right now.

But-

Varian nearly shoved Xavier away, as panic began to bubble up from the depths of his mind as his train of thought went from a standstill to rushing a million miles an hour.

“Wha-What are you doing here!?” Varian asked Xavier, looking up wide-eyed at the blacksmith, the boy’s fists clutching in desperation at the man’s shirt.

Xavier only smiled reassuringly at Varian. “It’s all right Varian. We figured it out. You’re going to be all right. We’ve come to get you out of here!”

Varian continued to stare at him, shaking his head in disbelief.

Noticing his apprentice’s demeanor, Xavier laid his hands on Varian’s shoulders, trying to steady him. “Easy Varian, easy. It’s all right. I’m here now. Really! You’re going to be ok.” Xavier then looked to study the vines that bound Varian’s wrists and ankles, holding one of them in his grasp as Ruddiger also gave them a sniff. The raccoon’s fur stood on end, and he hissed as he detected the dark magic pulsing within the glowing tendrils. Xavier’s brow furrowed, and he began reaching into one of his pockets.

“Wait, what’re you doing?” Varian asked.

“Don’t worry Varian,” Xavier said, pulling a small folding knife from his pocket. “I’ll cut you free, and then we can-” “NO!” Varian screamed, grabbing Xavier’s wrist to stop him before he could make the first incision. “No no! If-if you tamper with the vines, he might notice you’re here and-” Varian’s voice cut out, he swallowed hard, and Xavier could feel the boy clutch even tighter at the fabric of his shirt. “‘He?’” Xavier repeated, becoming still. “Who is ‘he’? Varian, what’s going on? Who did this to you?” But Varian’s expression began to take on a faraway look again, and Xavier could see Varian was struggling to breathe. “Z-…Zhan Tiri-” Varian just managed to choke out. And then, the boy began to hyperventilate, grabbing Xavier again, and shouting. “Wh-why are you here!? You need to stop him! You’re just wasting time with me! Why did you just let him-!? He could be…I-I can’t! Why did you come here!? No! No no no! He’s going to get away-!”

“Varian!”

Varian stopped shouting, but now only shook his head as he buried his face in his arms. “Varian!” Xavier tried again, trying to snap Varian out of whatever attack he was experiencing. But the boy only continued to quiver and breathe in quick, shallow breaths.

Just like that one day…

Xavier was unsure about what was going on, and Varian mentioning Zhan Tiri had not escaped him, but this much he knew – Varian needed help now, and he had to bring him back around before they could do anything else.

“Varian,” Xavier said again, this time in a much calmer tone, and giving Varian’s shoulders a comforting squeeze. “Varian, look at me, please.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment Xavier thought Varian wouldn’t comply. But soon enough, Varian managed to bring his face up to look Xavier in the eye, the boy’s expression utterly pained.

“It’s all right,” the blacksmith said. And again, like before, Varian opened his mouth to protest such a notion.

“N-no! No no, it’s not all right!” Varian cried, curling in on himself again. “Don’t lie to me! Can’t you see that we’re-!?” But Varian then felt himself being pulled into another hug, his mentor’s strong arms wrapped around him protectively. “Shh, it’s all right, Varian. It’s all right,” Xavier repeated again, as if the soul-crushing reality had no bearing on them in the present moment. Which of course was ridiculous, Varian thought. But in that moment, Xavier sounded so confident, that Varian almost believed him. “It’s all right.”

Xavier then pulled away again, steadying Varian’s shoulders. “I need you to breathe with me now, ok?” But Varian shook his head. “No! I can’t-! We- He’s going to-!” “Breathe in,” Xavier continued on, gently but insistently. When Varian didn’t respond at first, he tried again. “Breathe in…” Varian then also felt Ruddiger nuzzle into his side, and the little creature looked up at Varian with sad but encouraging eyes. “Please!” he seemed to be saying.

Finally, Varian felt his resistance start to give way, and though faltering at first, Varian managed to get in a slower inhale.

“Good,” Xavier said, a tone of relief entering his voice. “Now, breathe out…” And Varian did, though shakily. “Good. Again, breathe in… Hold… Breathe out…”

This went on for another few repetitions, and Varian did try to mirror what Xavier was telling him to do. But constantly Varian had thoughts flit in and out of his mind that caused his breath to hitch when they hit him. “We’re running out of time! I’m trapped here and I can’t get out! Why did Xavier come for me!? Zhan Tiri’s going to use me to come back, and it’s all my fault! It’s all my fault! It’s all my fault! It’s-”

“It’s all my fault…” Before Varian could think to stop himself, his voice betrayed his thoughts, and he could feel tears gathering at the corners of his eyes at his quivering words.

“No, it isn’t, Varian,” Xavier tried reassuringly. “C’mon, stay with me now. It’s going to be all right. I’m sure whatever’s going on, we can-”

But Varian shook his head. “No! It’s-it’s not going to be all right!” he cried, and through his sobs he began to tell Xavier everything; everything about Zhan Tiri slipping through the warp in time and space the other night, to meeting Zhan Tiri in the depths of his psyche, to how Zhan Tiri tricked him into believing he was really Lord Demanitus, and how – worst of all – Varian had believed him when he talked about them using the Moonstone’s power to go back in time and undo all of the bad things that had befallen Varian, and all the bad things that he himself had done.

Varian wanted to blame Zhan Tiri for all of this. He had been a liar, after all. Was it Varian’s fault that he had been deceived? Didn’t that make it better? Weren’t his motivations good in the end? That is, to go back and set things the way they should’ve been?

…But no. Varian knew the truth. Zhan Tiri wouldn’t have been able to entice Varian into his plans if Varian wasn’t already vulnerable to it. True, there were circumstances that were beyond his control. Perhaps it wasn’t all his fault. But some of it definitely was, and it also didn’t help that he had been so bitter towards everyone, driving away those who wanted to help him. If only he hadn’t been so desperate to run away from what had already been stamped into his history, perhaps he wouldn’t be in this even bigger mess now.

If he had only hung on instead of let go the other day when Rapunzel had appeared. Not that it was really her, probably. But if he didn’t give in to his anger…his hatred…

“…I’ve ruined everything…” was all Varian could say as he came to the end of his account, and he sat back with his shoulders drooped, and hands dropping from Xavier’s shirt into his own lap. Varian was so tired – physically and emotionally. He could feel the weight of all he had done pressing down on his already tired shoulders, and sling itself round his chest like lead-heavy snakes. And he was so useless now, too. Zhan Tiri had a hold of him. Even if he wanted to use his powers against Zhan Tiri now, the vines clinging to him would only channel it for Zhan Tiri’s own use. And in here, in this dark place, he had no access to alchemy or tools or anything else he might be able to fight back with.

“…You have to go.”

“What?” Xavier asked, clearly surprised by Varian’s words. Miserably, Varian looked up at Xavier through his bangs.

“You need to get out of here. Both of you.” Here Varian turned also to Ruddiger, who looked up at the boy with bewildered eyes. “Y-you’re just wasting time here. Zhan Tiri isn’t going to Old Corona. That was another lie to throw you off his plans. He’s going to Janus Point to-” Varian swallowed. “He’s…he’s going to try to use my magic to bring himself back – all the way back – where the veil is thin. You have to catch up to him before he can-”

“We’ve already tried, Varian.” “What?” Varian asked, looking at Xavier in astonishment.

Xavier frowned. “Varian, after Zhan Tiri made sure he got passed the guards, he used your magic to trap us here in Molson’s Grove with a great wall of black rocks. We can’t go anywhere.” “No…” Varian whispered, hugging himself. Yes, he had felt Zhan Tiri call upon his powers a couple of times earlier that evening, but he had no idea (and dreaded to think of) what the warlock had used them for. “That is,” Xavier said, once again setting his hands on Varian’s shoulders. “We can’t go anywhere without you. We need you to take down that wall, Varian.”

“B-but I can’t!” Varian shouted, grasping one of the vines in his hands and holding it up, as if Xavier needed a visual aid to get the situation through to him. “Look Xavier! I’m trapped here! And-and without my doppelgänger I won’t be able to get out!”

“That’s why Ruddiger is here,” Xavier explained, and Ruddiger immediately pricked up at the sound of his name. “The dark mirror has no affect on him, and he brought you back from the dream depths before. I have a hunch that he can also help to get you out of here, bypassing the need for a doppelgänger swap!”

Varian stared at Xavier, then at Ruddiger. Could Xavier be right? Could such a trick really work!?

“But first,” Xavier began again, reaching once more for his pocket knife.

“N-no!” Varian tried again to stop the blacksmith, grabbing at his wrist. “What if that makes him know you’re here!? What if he-?”

Varian then stopped, Xavier turning to look at him with an expression that Varian had never seen on the blacksmith before. Or, at least, not this intense. Varian had seen something similar to it when Xavier had been in battle before – a steeliness and determination that would make most anyone flinch if it were directed at them. But this time…

“We have to try, Varian. No matter what it takes, I won’t leave you here like this. I won’t let Zhan Tiri do this to you!”

Before Varian could say anything else to this, Xavier firmly but gently pried Varian’s hands from his wrist, and brought his hand down to lay the first strike on the eerie, glowing vines.

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

Zhan Tiri staggered, feeling as if a dart had just suddenly been lodged into his chest. Had he stumbled into something in the dark and not seen it? Was there a hunter or a bandit nearby that had taken a shot at him?

But as Zhan Tiri looked down to examine where the pain came from, he found no arrow or dart sticking out of his avatar. Although, he did see beneath his clothing the dim glow of green, indicating that some sort of injury had been done to him, even if only a small one. “How in the-? Aaah!” the warlock cried, feeling the incision hit deeper. What was going on!?

With haste, the demon pressed his fingers against his temples, and focused his concentration along the vines that extended out his back and into the mirror. There, he of course saw the alchemist – disheveled, weak and distressed, as he should be – but he also saw-

“Aah!” the un-man cried again, a third blow nearly causing his legs to buckle from underneath him, and breaking his concentration for a second. “No,” he hissed to himself harshly. “Why that meddling old-!”

Thinking quickly, the un-man again sent his consciousness down the string of vines, and conjuring a few more from his back in the process. It may take a lot out of him in his current form, but he was too close now! He could not afford to lose this chance!

“I’ll make you pay for this,” the demon growled as he launched his counter-attack.

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

Varian’s eyes widened in horror as Xavier delivered that first blow to the vine. As the steel of Xavier’s knife struck the glowing tendril, sparks spewed up from where he had managed to make an incision in the thick skin. However, Varian also noticed something else as Xavier braced himself for another blow. The knife had begun to glow green as well, and Varian managed to catch sight of what looked like steam rising from its handle. He could also see Xavier setting his teeth to keep himself from dropping the weapon as he began to feel the pain.

“NO!” Varian screamed, trying to catch Xavier’s wrist again to stop him. “Stop! Stop! It’s hurting you!”

But Xavier only responded with holding Varian back with his free arm, and bringing his hand down for another cut, grimacing as the knife glowed even brighter.

Varian remembered what Xavier had said – about when he had crushed Mila’s hand all those years ago. It was an injury that caused her to give up blacksmithing for good.

Was Xavier really about to-!?

“XAVIER, PLEASE! STOP!” Varian cried again, but Xavier brought the knife down for yet another strike, his hand itself now also starting to look green. If he kept this up for much longer, and if he tried to cut all of the vines this way…

In desperation, Varian tried to summon some of the magic inside of him. He had to try to do something to help Xavier before the man permanently crippled himself on his behalf. But as Varian felt the magic well up inside of him, he also felt it leave him, like water down a drain. Instead of the black rocks doing as Varian wanted, they sprang up to form a kind of cage around Xavier, with even more vines snaking their way between them to grab at the blacksmith, causing Xavier to drop his knife. Varian tried to make a lunge for the fallen blade, but was suddenly jerked back as the tendrils holding him dragged him away across the floor. Ruddiger then made his attempt for the knife, but flinched back as his snout got close to the heat rising from it. He then had to scurry and dodge as another vine tried a grab at him, and began chasing him around the chamber.

“You fools!” a voice boomed around the chamber, causing Varian to flinch at the sound of it, for Zhan Tiri of course would use his own voice. “Did you really think you could stop me now? I won’t go down so easily!”

Xavier looked frightened only for a moment as the situation sank in. But then, the man summoned again that steely determination from before, and resumed struggling against his bonds. This only caused Zhan Tiri to chuckle at the blacksmith’s futile efforts.

“Ah, so this is the best that Demanitus could leave behind for his vanguard, eh?” the demon’s voice said mockingly. “An old codger who barely understands the great mysteries he proports to love, and an impulsive child with a ruined life. If only you both weren’t so annoying, I could hardly have asked for better conditions!”

At these words, Xavier looked over at Varian, noticing that the boy had ceased struggling to get out of his own bonds, and now lay there limply on the floor again, like when Xavier first found him here.

“Varian!” Xavier shouted, but Varian didn’t appear to hear him. “Varian, don’t listen to him! Don’t give up!”

“Oh yes, that’s right old man,” Zhan Tiri interjected again, a smile in his voice. “Keep leading the boy on with false hopes, as usual.”

Xavier glared at the cursed mirror’s gateway.

“Honestly, do you really wish to tell the boy that he can come back from all this? From all he has done? Even if you were to get out of here, even if you were to defeat me, what would be left for him? He belongs to me now!”

“There’s still his father!” Xavier said. “We still have to free him!”

There was a long pause after this, only to be followed by another smiling tone from the demon as he said, “You really are cruel, aren’t you master blacksmith? Why can’t you just admit to the boy that his father must be dead now?”

Xavier couldn’t see Varian’s face from the way the boy was laying, but he did see Varian’s side seize up at these words, his breath stopping.

“You don’t know that!” Xavier retorted back.

“But if he were?” Zhan Tiri continued. “If he were dead, there would be no one left for the boy. He feels it himself – after all he’s done, no one else would be there for him. Nobody else would love him. It would be a shame to even associate with him on any level! Well, aside from his jailor of course. And if his father were somehow still alive, what would he say once he was free? He certainly wouldn’t be proud of the boy, now would he?”

At these words, Varian finally did move, but only to curl himself into a tight ball, the guilt of everything clearly crushing him into the ground. Ruddiger tried to get to him from where he had taken shelter in a basket in the corner, but the vine that had stalked him kept him at bay.

Xavier looked between the dark mirror and where Varian lay. Varian really was believing what the un-man was saying! Xavier knew that if Varian only thought about things for just a moment – really thought about them – all of this darkness would be dispelled. Of course Quirin really loved Varian! He had sacrificed himself for his son, after all! And as for the others? Varian may not realize it, but despite those out there who would write him off as hopeless and irredeemable, there were also those who were willing to give him another chance should he but ask for it and take it. But Xavier knew that doubts coupled with grief and guilt could be a terribly oppressive force. Life could not be expected to always be solved by purely rational means. Certainly not irrational, but sometimes merely thinking and rationalizing weren’t enough.

…Sometimes, you had to act.

“I would be there.”

Another pause followed Xavier’s words.

“What?” the demon asked, but Xavier ignored him.

“Varian,” Xavier called his name again, and Varian just managed to look up at him from his circle of torment.

“Varian, listen to me – you are still my apprentice. No matter what happens, you can always come home to me, all right? And-”

Now here Xavier said one of the last things that anyone in that room expected him to say, and if Varian had heard him say it months or even a few weeks ago, he would’ve been deeply offended by it. But as things were now…

“And I forgive you, Varian.”

Varian appeared to be thrown for a few full seconds, his brain also trying to catch up with what he just heard. “What?” the alchemist asked in a small voice.

“I forgive you, Varian,” Xavier repeated. “For any wrong you have done to me, it’s over now. It doesn’t need to cling to you anymore. You can let it go.”

Varian blinked at his mentor, then grimaced, shaking his head. “No! Y-you don’t mean that!”

“I do Varian.”

“No you don’t!” Varian almost screamed. “Stop lying to me! How could you just say things like that!?”

“Exactly!” Zhan Tiri chimed in. “He’s just saying whatever it takes to sway you into doing whatever he wants you to do! Especially with how he is now, how could anyone say that it’s over when he’s here like this?”

“Oh, you mean like this?” Xavier asked, his eyes scanning the vines and black rock cage around him as if they were somehow not that bad. “Oh Varian, I’ve been held by far worse chains and prisons than these.”

“…Wha-what are you talking about?” Varian asked hoarsely.

“Do you remember, Varian? When I told you about Mila? What I had done then, the guilt that I had felt – those were some of the worst things to have ever held me in bondage. Worse than the Saporians, and worse than even Zhan Tiri’s now. Granted,” Xavier said through gritted teeth as Zhan Tiri threateningly tightened his grip, “they are quite terrible. But while we may physically be held captive here, our hearts need not be, Varian. Mila set mine free, as well as her own, all those years ago. How could I not do the same for you?”

For a flickering moment, it looked like the light almost came back into Varian’s eyes. Could it be possible? Could he…could he really be forgiven for the things he’d done? Could he really, in another sense, “go back?”

But his thoughts were interrupted with another eery chuckle from the un-man. “Oh, my my my, what nonscensical fluff we are witnessing this evening.” The demon scoffed at Xavier. “Oh please, master blacksmith! Do you really mean to continue to insult the boy’s intelligence, or tempt him with pie-in-the-sky thinking? And even if it were true. If ‘your hearts could be free’ as you so pathetically claim, what good does that do, hmm? Hmm? Would the boy not still be in the same circumstances as he is now?”

A dreadful pause followed, and Varian lost all hope again. Of course Zhan Tiri was right. Even if in this moment Varian somehow believed Xavier’s words, he was still in the same situation as before. He was still imprisoned. He was still an outcast, a criminal, all but an orphan. Nothing would really change for him.

“So was Mila,” Xavier now continued, earning another surprised look up from Varian. “So was I. Granted, you could claim our circumstances were on a smaller scale, but the loss was still real. It affected both of our lives in a deep way. When Mila decided to forgive me, her outward circumstances did not change. She never-” Xavier swallowed the lump in his throat at the memory. “She never practiced her smithing craft again. But her willingness to forgive set her free from remaining trapped in that moment. She did something new instead. It wasn’t in her plans. Her loss wasn’t fair. But she made her choice. She chose for change on the inside, and that allowed for change on the outside. It changed her life, and it changed mine. She let go of her anger and bitterness, and was able to strive for good – to wish for another’s good, and for her own good, even in the given circumstances. She didn’t wait to feel good about me or about herself before she did that. And she- Gah! Mmph!”

Varian’s eyes widened in fright as Xavier’s mouth was suddenly gagged with more glowing green vines that sprouted up. “Ugh, that’s enough of that,” Zhan Tiri’s voice came again, trying to sound bored with the situation. …But Varian could tell by the urgency of Zhan Tiri’s action, that it was more than mere annoyance that prompted him just now. “You really do talk a lot for such an old man. I’m surprised you aren’t winded by now. But, no matter. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ve wasted enough time with this nonsense, and the boy and I have important business to attend-”

“N-no.”

Varian could feel Xavier and Zhan Tiri’s attention turn to him as he weakly said the word.

“‘No?’” Zhan Tiri repeated mockingly. “No? What do you mean, no?”

Varian struggled to sit up, bracing himself up with his hands. “I…I said, ‘no.’ Y-you’re not going to use me for your plans. I refuse to- Aaah!” Varian crumpled, as he again felt the squeezing sensation around his heart, and his hair began to dimly glow.

“Have you forgotten, child?” the demon purred in his ear as Xavier watched on in horror. “I still have my foothold in your heart. You willingly gave it to me. You cannot refuse me now.”

“No!” Varian hissed through gritted teeth. “I-I can! I won’t let you!” “Won’t let me do what?” the un-man cried, now truly exasperated. “Won’t let me get revenge on those who wronged us both? Won’t let me make sure that the scales of justice are balanced in our favor? Would your father really want you to leave unpunished those whose acts led to his demise?”

…This was where the demon made his crucial mistake.

It was like when Varian faced the Seporian spy back in the forests of Equis; when he tried to use Varian’s father’s fate as a point of leverage.

“Dad…” Varian thought to himself, feeling his heart break all over again as he thought about him. He knew Quirin wouldn’t have wanted this. Whatever Varian may have thought of himself, his dad gave up everything to keep him alive. Even if Quirin himself were somehow still alive, he had no idea in the moment what was going to happen when he pushed Varian away from the explosion of amber. He didn’t know whether or not he would come through all right. And if the worst turned out to be true, would Varian let his father’s sacrifice for him be in vain? That is, would he lose sight of what was good and give up the real fight?

And what about Xavier? Whatever doubts Zhan Tiri had sown about the purity of the man’s intentions for Varian, the boy couldn’t deny that Xavier gave up a lot for him. Varian’s eyes landed briefly on the blacksmith’s burnt hand. That and hearing the emotion in the smithy’s voice at the idea of someone not being able to forge again, it was enough to let Varian know that Xavier was making all efforts short of giving up his own life as well to help him. Though, under the current circumstances, that opition may not be far off either.

…And Varian would not let that happen.

“No!” Varian cried again, and once more trying to summon his powers, the rocks around Xavier starting to glow in tandem with his hair. “I won’t be your puppet in your plans! I won’t listen to you any more! I won’t-”

Varian then gasped, feeling Zhan Tiri tighten his grip harder around him, and feeling his magic begin to siphon back out of him again while Xavier struggled to try to reach him. “No!” Varian though in desperation, and began to push back against the force pulling at him, the two now grappling together in his heart. “No! You won’t let you take me! I’ll fight you-!”

“You’re too late boy!” the voice now thundered in his mind, and repeated again, “Your father is dead! Your enemies have gotten away with it! And nobody is left to love you! You feel that anger, that bitterness, that grief in your heart! Let it out! Show them all! Embrace the power that you have been given!”

Varian could feel his heart being torn in two. He couldn’t keep this up. He was losing the fight. He couldn’t do this on his own!

“NO! PLEASE!” Varian found himself crying out, to anyone or anything that may be listening. “PLEASE! DAD! XAVIER! RUDDIGER! SOMEONE! HELP ME!”

At these words, Varian felt the tear in his heart rend all the way through. He gave a sharp cry, his eyes rolled to the back of head, and then he was enveloped in utter blackness.

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

…..

……….

……

“Varian…”

Varian gasped, his eyes snapping open at the sound of his name. He expected when he opened his eyes to see the dark mirror chamber around him, and to feel his body aching from the tight vines and the grip of Zhan Tiri’s binding spell. But, to his utter astonishment, Varian felt and saw none of these things. Instead, he felt only shallow, cool water around him, and saw above him a sky ablaze with stars, giant planets, and the dancing stream of the Aurora Borealis.

“Wait…I’m back here!?” Varian thought in utter surprise, quickly sitting up and looking around him. Once again, he found himself on the smooth waters of the celestial plain from his dreams. Immediately, Varian thought to look for the white stag, or Ruddiger. Perhaps one of them was somehow here with him. But though Varian turned to look all around him, and strained his eyes to see as far as they could toward the distant horizon, no other figure was in sight on that vast, flat land.

“What do I do now?” Varian wondered aloud, remembering how difficult it was for him to go anywhere the last time. What was he supposed to do this time? Should he try to wake up? He needed a guide back to the waking world last time, but perhaps he could manage it now?

In any case, Varian knew had to try something. He had to try to get back!

Tentatively, Varian moved to push himself up onto his feet. As he stood, Varian tried to decide on which direction he should go. As he was pondering this, Varian suddenly caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. Varian’s head whipped round, fully expecting to see Ruddiger coming to his aid at last. But instead-

“Aaah!” Varian yelped, staggering backwards. What he saw was a face! A face floating a few yards away, looking at him. As Varian watched, the full figure of a person materialized in front of him, and other figures also came into view in the same manner, all glowing with silver light. Varian never gave much thought to ghosts, and for a moment he hoped that he was just seeing things. But when he dared to look away, then look again, blink, and rub his eyes, and the vision didn’t go away, he felt himself begin to panic. His courage failing him, Varian fled in the other direction away from the frightening apparitions. But to his horror, more figures began materializing there as well!

Varian then turned to his right, and began running, but he was soon blocked in again by more figures looming in out of thin air. All of them were facing towards him in a large circle, and soon Varian was completely hemmed in by the large crowd.

And what a large crowd it was indeed! There had to be dozens of them, perhaps hundreds! Men, women, and children. Who were they!? What was going on!?

One of them stepped forward to approach Varian, and out of reflex the boy held up his arms to shield himself. But alas, this only caused him further dread, for as Varian went through the motion, he saw a terrible phenomenon before him.

His arms were see-through! He was a ghost!

Varian stared in horror as his eyes followed his arms and he looked down at his body. Despite the ghost-like behavior of the figures only moments before, somehow the tables had turned. Or, perhaps, a readjusting of Varian’s senses had taken place. He now had the haunting idea that perhaps the figures were not the ghosts here, but he was. Did they materialize to his senses just now, or was it vice versa? Had they been in full existence there already, and he had been the one who materialized to their level of reality?

Before Varian could consider more this frightening prospect, he was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts as he felt the touch of the figure that had stepped towards him. He had been so caught up in his fear that he hadn’t noticed the figure draw so near to him! The touch of the man who approached was firm, but warm, and as Varian’s eyes snapped up to look the person in the face, he was startled to find that…he actually recognized him! Though he had never seen him in person, Varian had seen a small portrait of him in his father’s belongings.

The man…looked like his grandfather!

“Wait, what!? No!” Varian thought to himself, his voice failing him to say anything as he stared agape at the man. “No no! It’s-it’s not possible! He can’t be-! He’s not even-!”

Another realization then hit Varian like a thunderclap, and he looked again at the other faces around him. In some he could see the resemblance to either of his parents. Others were total strangers to him. But this much he somehow knew – these were his past relations! All of them! In one way or another, they were related to him. He was seeing his family tree extending back years into the past! Varian had never met any of his relatives outside of his parents, and he hadn’t really given much thought about them in recent years. But now…?

Being an alchemist, Varian had heard of those who believed that they could manufacture human life in a lab. Get the right ingredients, have the right conditions, and boom! You’ve created life. Varian never really found such experiments appealing. He was more for the practical, applicable sciences like mechanics and chemistry. Sure, he’d dabbled a bit in biology (as he did to know how to create Ruddiger’s transformation serum), but otherwise he didn’t really give much thought into what went into making a person, artificial or otherwise.

But now, in seeing the legions of past relatives around him, Varian saw brief but poignant glimpses of all the blood, sweat and tears that had gone into assuring his existence throughout the centuries prior. All of the sacrifices that were made so that he could get the chance to walk the earth. All of that went into making him.

“Oh no-,” Varian found himself whimpering aloud, his voice finally returning to him if only for a moment, and he quickly pulled himself away from the figure of his grandfather. Varian buried his face in his hands, overwhelmed by the feeling of transparency that he now felt (both figuratively and literally). Did they know? Did they all know? And was this how it was to end for him? Was he dead, and this was his final judgment?? Surely, they all must be ashamed of him, and must be wondering if it was worth all the struggle to produce him at the present end of the family line. What a disgrace he must be to them.

“G-go away!” Varian cried as he felt another hand try to touch his shoulder. “Get back! L-leave me alone!”

“But you need help, dearie,” a feminie voice replied from somewhere in the crowd, and Varian flinched at the sound, for it wasn’t so unlike the sound of all the singing he had heard the other night; when he had heard the stars after his powers had awoken inside of him.

“N-no, I don’t!” Varian lied in a cracked voice, wishing for once that the dark, deep ocean underneath him would swallow him up, if only to get away from the unbearable eyes all watching him. But those around him didn’t seem at all fazed.

“Easy Varian, easy,” came a deep, masculine voice, sounding not so unlike the comforting voice of Xavier, and Varian again felt a gentle hand laid on his shoulder. Quivering, Varian finally dared to look up again, meeting several faces this time as the spirits crowded round him. “Don’t be afraid. You’re welcome here!”

Varian blinked, looking about him again. He was so very confused. “Wh-where are we? I don’t understand! Am I-?” Varian swallowed hard. “Am I dead?”

“No, Varian. You’re not dead.”

At the sound of this next voice, the crowd around Varian parted a little, allowing one of the figures to pass through to the front. Though Varian was surprised, as the figure that came forward was not a solid silver like the others around them, but appeared to be a translucent ghost like himself. The figure was hooded, and also carried a small, sleeping monkey upon its shoulder.

“Oh no,” Varian thought as the figure came closer, and he caught sight of the little primate companion. “We’re not going THAT far back in the family line, are we?”

Fortunately, it was not the little creature who addressed Varian, but the hooded figure as he pulled his cowl back and revealed his face. “It’s good to finally meet you, Varian,” he said, kneeling down so he was eye-level with the boy. “I only wish it could be under better circumstances.”

Varian’s eyes studied the man’s face. There seemed to be something of a resemblance to his father in the man’s features. Or, at least, in the features Varian could still see, for nearly half of the man’s face was covered with metal plating.

“Who are you?” Varian asked.

“I am Lord Demanitus,” the man replied. “And this,” here he indicated the monkey. “Is Vigor, my familiar. Do not worry Varian. We are here to help you.”

#tts #rta #fan fiction #gitw #gauze in the wound #varian #xavier the blacksmith #ruddiger #zhan tiri #lord demanitus #forgiveness

22 notes · View notes

damn-stark · 4 years

Text

Number Eight pt.1

A/N-I had fun with this request and kind of want to make it into more parts. What do you all think??

Warning-swearing, angst

Based off Episode- 1x01

————

The sound of your fork scraping on the bottom of your empty bowl echoes around the table. Feeling your siblings eyes focused on your slumped figure, and watching the “bad” manners you displayed as you put your elbow on the table top to rest your chin on your hand.

No one dared at first to speak on your posture in fear of angering your father with speaking while eating, but Allison as always dared to correct you to do better even if she wasn’t allowed to talk. “Y/N—”

“Number eight.” Your father interrupted sharply, “sit up right and get your elbow off the table.”

Your eyes dart to him to shoot him a glare as you slowly drag your arm off and sit up straight, huffing out dramatically. Usually Ben would tell you to stop and just listen, but as you looked to where he usually sat, it was empty. A fact that made you even angrier. The feeling causes you to stab your fork on the table, the sound making everyone around look to you.

“Yes, number eight?” Your father spoke, his eyes like all the rest on you before you erupted from your seat and snapped.

“Are we going to do nothing about Ben? Are we not going to try and get him back?”

“The only possible way to have done so was with number five, but he as you know is no longer with us.”

You scoff, “and are we not going to do anything about him either? He just disappeared and you did nothing!”

“He made a mistake, there was nothing we could do. Now don’t talk about it anymore.” He argued, expecting you to sit back down after he finished but noticing you that you weren’t and you remained defiant. You looked to your other siblings to see if they would back you up, but as you looked at each of them one by one, none said a thing and instead avoided your gaze, making you let out an irritated huff of air and look back at your father to continue arguing.

“But I could. I could use my powers to try and bring them back! Both Ben and five!”

“No!” He sneered, “you are not, your powers are not fully developed, nor discovered. If you try anything you will end up just like number five did! Sit down number eight, right now!”

You scoff, “no, if you’re not going to try anything, I will.” You open your palms and a purple energy hue begins to surround your hands, turning brighter and bigger as you begin to use all your strength.

“Number eight!”

Shooting him one last glare you try your best, mostly unaware of what you’re going to do and just going off what you’ve been taught so far and have been learning yourself. It was a daring choice that could have an dangerous outcome mainly for yourself, but all you wanted to do was bring your brothers back and well you had faith that it was going to work and everything was going to be fine. It was going to work—

The purple hues that emitted from your and surrounded your hands turned brighter and this time you saw some of your siblings stand to watch what you were doing, their attention going to you and the purple hues. Before any could stop you, as you felt the energy of your power built up inside you, you shot it out in a big wave that blinded you for a couple of seconds.

A couple seconds that you only realized changed everything as you blinked repeatedly and your eyesight refocused on your surroundings, focused and noticed the same sunny day, but only something was off. As the sun peeked inside there was a purple hue as well. Actually now that you looked around, the purple hue was everywhere. And everyone was gone.

You raced to the living room to look over the chimney and notice that Five’s picture was gone...strange—where was everyone?

It was quiet, mom wasn’t around and neither was Pogo. Hmm—hesitantly you leave the living room area and head to the main hall, looking up the stairs to wait if you would hear the usual noise your siblings made. But as you focused, nothing was heard. So again with some hesitance you followed to move along, walking up the stairs and going to check the rooms. When you reach the hall you freeze as you hear commotion coming from Five’s room.

“No.” You whisper before your attention gets stolen by more noise further down the hall. Your eyebrows furrow and your heart begins to beat rapidly inside your chest.

It couldn’t possibly be any of your other siblings, if it was them you’d know. They were gone, but there was obviously someone here. You slowly approach Five’s room and before you could poke your head inside he walks out. You blink and he raises his eyebrow.

“Five.” You breath in a state of shock.

“Y/N.” His eyes narrowed as he tilted his head slightly, “are you okay?”

You swallow thickly, “are you? Where have you been?”

“Here.” He said slowly and slightly confused, “because you want me here. Don’t you remember?”

You blink once more and step back, snapping your head to the end of the hall as you hear quick footsteps run towards you—Ben. Holy shit. What’s going on?

“Y/N! No more training, let's go outside and play that new game, Klaus made up.” He stops a few feet away from Five and you, and looks happily between the both of you. “Five join us.”

“Ben?” You manage to roll out slowly. “You’re here?”

Five looks to you and shoved his hands in his pockets, “again he’s here because you want him here. You have the power of Chaos Magic reality warping, it’s as dad says, your powers are still not fully discovered. This might just be an extension of them.”

“But why aren’t the rest here?”

Five shrugs, “you tell me.”

Your eyes fall to the ground and think, even if deep inside your mind you knew. You left because you wanted to help Five and Ben. You were just following your own plan.

The corner of your lips fall into a frown at the fact that he might’ve been right about your powers. Maybe this was a crazy idea, but Five and Ben were here. You missed them and you also couldn’t leave them. Maybe you could take him back? Or maybe not? What did you even do?

Father was right….

“So do you want to come or not, y/n?” Ben asked again.

You looked up to him and then five...noticing the smile that Ben so rarely displayed and only did so around either of your siblings or you, while also showing his usual playful side that father barely let him show with all the training and fighting. That he let either of you show. So maybe this wasn’t the worst choice, maybe you could stay for a little while...just a little while.

You grin and nod, “let’s go!”

——

1 year later

As time passed the illusion of having both brothers back was one that you didn’t want to let go, even as much as the presence of your siblings were beginning to slowly weigh down your heart. Yes they were loud and they could sometimes get on your nerves, but they were still your siblings, you still wanted them around. Even if they fought and didn’t listen you missed them, it wasn’t the same without them. As the year passed that feeling didn’t leave your mind. But you also couldn’t find a way to bring them here nor take Five and Ben back with you.

Endless studying also resulted with the same knowledge you had learned before your trip here. Just like everyone and everything remained the same. Just like the purple hue surrounding the world you made.

It was probably time to go home…..even if your father would be furious—hopefully a whole year passing has called him down.

“You know….” You mutter as you put down the peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich, “I think it’s time for me to go back.”

Five and Ben both look at you and put down their own sandwich.

You fiddle with the sleeve of your uniform jacket and feel tears sting your eyes, hear the crack in your voice as you try and continue explaining. “You know I’ve tried to take you guys back but I can’t find a way. But maybe with more practice I can try again later on.” You sniffle and wipe the tears of your cheeks. “For now though I think I need to go back with the rest.”

Five nods, “if that’s what you want.”

“Yeah,” Ben agrees with a half smile, “we understand.”

The corner of your lips tug into a sad smile and you reach to grab both of their hands to give them a gentle squeeze. “I’ll come back again.” A purple energy hue begins to emit from your palms and surround both hands, the hue brightening and growing more powerful with more strength. You sniffle and shut your eyes, feeling warm tears roll down the curve of your cheeks just as you send a wave of the purple hue energy out. The power of it once again seeming to explode in a bright light, changing everything and taking the feeling of both of your brothers hands away.

As expected when you opened your eyes they were both gone—exhaling shakily, you pull both arms off the table to push yourself off your seat, looking to the dining room and seeing the sunlight begin to slowly dim as dark clouds began to cover it. It was a normal occurrence, but the day you left it was a sunny day all day, and well your family had been here, now they were gone too, like when you left the first time.

No.

Quickly you ran out of the dining room and rushed to the living room, skidding to a stop once you recognized five and a strange woman standing in front of the chimney looking at a painted portrait of Five and you placed over it. “What the hell?” You mouthed completely stunned.

They both turn their heads and the woman seems to be more surprised than…Five was; while you were more shocked to see Five.

Did it work? Did you bring him back? No, he would’ve been next to you if you had and he was suddenly here now next to this weird woman who looked familiar.

“Five?”

“Y/N?” The strange woman voiced in a surprised tone at the same time you called Five. “What the….how are you back?”

Your gaze drifted to her and your eyebrows knotted together. “Who are you?”

She blinked as her lips were left parted in surprise. “It’s Vanya.”

“Vanya?” You scoffed and shook your head, looking back at Five to question him too. “How are you here?”

“Holy shit! Y/N?!” You turn around at the sound of your name and see a thin man with dark hair and in a skirt who looked familiar as well. “What?!”

“Who are you?” You ask as you take a cautious step back, noticing more adults walk down the stairs and walk into the living room, all of them expressing the same shocked expression as they spotted you. But also seeming familiar to you. It wasn’t until you noticed Pogo come along as well did you feel some type of reassurance. “Pogo! What’s going on? Who are these people? Where’s dad?”

“Y/N?” He questioned as well, almost as if they had never seen you when you’ve been gone for only minutes or a couple hours.

“Where are the rest? Allison? Mom? Klaus? Diego? And Luther?” You queried in a panicked voice

The tall and pretty women approached first, “it’s us, y/n. We’re here. How are you back?”

You blink repeatedly and shrug, “I used my powers, like when I left. How are you older?”

“You’ve been gone for sixteen years.” A buff and tall man answered for the lady, the answer makes you gasp and shake your head in disbelief.

“Wow today has just been an exciting reunion.” The same man in the skirt shares with a smile, “First Five comes back from whatever time he was in and now you come back too.”

So Five is actually back for real….that’s good to know. Now all you need to know is what’s going on with you? Is this just another effect of your powers? No, couldn’t be. As you looked around the room there was no purple hue. It all looked normal.

“Where’s dad?” You question again. “I need to talk to him.”

They all look at each other and their shell shocked expression falls and turns serious and almost sad.

“Who’s going to tell her?” The man in the skirt asked.

Pogo walked closer and took your hand in his, looking up at you with a saddened look. “Y/N, your father has unfortunately passed away.” You grow quiet and your eyes again look to the ground. You exhale deeply and repeat what Pogo had said.

Your father wasn’t the best, but he was still your dad. A man you haven’t seen in a year...or sixteen apparently. Not only that but he might be the only person who understood your powers and understood what had happened. Now he wasn’t here to explain.

“Oh,” you breathe softly, looking up to the people that claimed to be your siblings. “How do I know you guys are telling the truth?”

The man in the skirt lifts his jacket sleeve and shows the tattoo you had as well. A sign that only the selected few had.

“Okay.” You nod, looking up to meet his gaze and then the rest, trying to place a name with a face. “You must be Klaus,” you say as you point to the man in the skirt, who smiles as a response before you look at the taller women, “you’re Allison,” you then turn to the buff man, “Luther,” and then you turn to the man in all black with knives sheathed around him, “Diego.”

“Yes you’re correct.” Pogo speaks for them, “all your siblings are here. For your father's funeral.”

You nod, “okay.”

“Where have you been? How are you still young?” Vanya asks as she walks around you to be in front of you.

You shrug, “I don’t even know, here but not here. I don’t know. I used my powers and they took me to the house, I saw Ben and five but that’s all. Only a year passed though. Not sixteen.”

“Well,” Allison spoke up as she walked closer to you, “we’re glad you’re back. We missed you.” She then wrapped you in a hug you didn’t hesitate to return.

“I missed you guys too.” You whispered.

“Now come on, we have to go outside.”

——

The rain poured down, making the energy around even sadder. Adding actually a tension around the group that you had felt before and only increased tenfold. Not only that but Mom had been acting weird. She reacted to your return in a weird way. Acting as if you had never been gone. Acting a little clueless to everything. “Did something happen?”

All of you turned to her after her question and Allison answered first. “Dad died. Remember?”

“Oh. Yes, of course.”

“Is mom okay?” You ask them, which Diego of course is the first one to do so.

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine. She just needs to rest. You know, recharge.”

Pogo walks and joins the group and turns to Luther holding the vase. He opens and all the ashes fall lumply to the ground. His added words make things just plain awkward. “Probably would’ve been better with some wind.”

You scratch the back of your head and suck in air through your teeth softly, looking to the ground and avoiding the awkward tension as Pogo questions the group and no one answers. “Does anyone wish to speak?” He only pauses for a moment and continues with his own words that Diego soon harshly interrupted.

“He was a monster...”

Klaus chuckles and you frown.

“...He was a bad person and a worse father. The worlds better off without him.”

Allison calls to him sharply, “Diego.”

“My name is number two.” He corrects her. “You know why? Because our father couldn’t be bothered to give us actual names. He had mom do it.”

“Would anyone like something to eat?” Mom asks, making Vanya dismiss her kindly.

“Look you wanna pay your respects, go ahead.”

“Diego,” you call, “stop.”

He shakes his head and continues, “but at least be honest about the man he was.”

Luther having enough finally speaks up. “You should stop talking now.” But Diego doesn’t stop and continues, making Luther swing his fist at Diego. Who instantly fought back, their punches loud as their fists came in contact with their wet skin—at least nothing has changed.

Pogo leaves and Allison pulls you back with her as both boys continue to the point where Luther the statue of Ben breaks as it falls. Making you have enough and shout at them to stop, a little too late as Diego manages to throw one last move, cutting Luther's arm with his knife. “Guys! Stop! You guys are brothers! Not wild Animals! Yes dad was not the best man but he was still our father! If you have nothing good to say, Diego just be quiet and at least show respect for a little while.”

Those siblings left standing around all look at you and their faces fall, none of them speaking or continuing the fight, all of them except for Luther staying quiet. “Sorry, y/n, I know it must be harder for you, I’m sorry.” Just with that he proceeded to leave, holding his wound and disappearing inside, before you also disappeared inside with Allison. And soon falling into a loud silence inside as you left to your room that had remained the same after all the years you left. Which was at least good, that way you knew mom never forgot you. Just like your father didn’t as the portrait of Five and you hung above the chimney. The only thing that changed was your siblings. Well all except for Five. He at least remained the same, some sense of familiarity in this strange new time.

“Where’s Vanya?” Allison asked as she joined Five and Klaus and you in the kitchen.

“Oh, she’s gone.” Klaus answered nonchalantly.

“That’s unfortunate.” Five responded as he turned away from what he was looking for, only not to talk about Vanya. “An entire square block. Forty-two bedrooms, nineteen bathrooms, but not a single drop of coffee.”

“Dad hated caffeine.” You mention.

“Well he hated children, too and he had plenty of us.” Klaus laughs.

“I’m taking the car.” Five says abruptly, before he blinks away and Diego’s walks in with his bags.

“All right, I guess I’ll see you guys in, what, ten years? When Pogo dies?”

Allison scoffs, “not if you die first.”

“Yeah, love you too, sis.” Diego says as he steals food from your plate, patting your shoulder to talk to you. “I’ll see you soon, y/n.”

“Will you?” You quirk your eyebrow.

“Of course. You know you were always my favorite.”

You chuckle and shake your head, the smile not lasting as he makes a rude comment about Allison. “Good luck on your next film. Hope it turns out better than your marriage, huh?”

Allison ignores and storms out of the room, disappearing out of the room just like Diego and Klaus. Leaving you to dwell with your confusion and sadness alone.

#the umbrella academy fanfiction #the umbrella academy imagines #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy #tua fanfiction #tua imagines #tua imagine #tua #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #five hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #luther hargreeves #pogo #Grace tua #tua reginald

138 notes · View notes