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#i don’t want anything to do with anything I want to be an eyeless fish in a cave
tryingtofindava · 2 months
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OMG , OMG, Are you an expert in creepypasta, I want to give you my request If you don't mind ... May i've a request for Jeff the killer,ticcy toby , Laughing Jack ( if you write for him ) and eyeless Jack please?!
With sweet fem s/o who don't know they are serial killers and only give them affection (like kisses every day) NSFW
Preatty please, love you baby
── 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 & 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭! 𝐒/𝐎
: ̗̀➛Back to Source
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INCLUDES: Jeff the Killer, Ticci Toby, and Eyeless Jack.
srry pookie bear not touching the nsfw today :c might come back to this idea later with just NSFW tho >:)
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╰┈➤ 𝐉𝐞𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫
You definitely got his eye when he first saw you, immediately taking in your sweet bubbly aura. (You were definitely on his bucket list of victims after he stalked you for a bit)
But one day, he got a little too cocky and you caught him. And to his surprise you didn’t seem to mind at all when you found this questionable looking stranger stalking around outside your bedroom window.
You’re guys difference in aesthetic in personality is what made you guys hit it off. YOU GUYS ARE THE DEFINITION OF SUNSHINE X MOON.
He thinks you’re too sweet to actually be sweet tbh, but you never fail to prove him wrong.
He’s cocky and arrogant, and the god complex on this man is UNBELIEVABLE… The only reason you’re alive in his head is because he was gracious enough to let you continue with your life. Not that he’d tell you that ofc!!
“Do you think I’m beautiful?”
“Of course, you’re so handsome!!”
He likes that you agree he’s beautiful for sure. (He fishes for compliments all the time, anything to stroke his ego.)
He’s possessive, and borderline obsessive. You’re his. And that’s that.
He takes you where he wants, when he wants. The woods? Yep. The shitty convenience store toilets? Double yep yep. Anywhere you guys could get caught in general? YUP.
Double life points because you don’t even know he’s a literal serial killer, like, even though all the signs and red flags are there.
When you guys started to date, he did soften up a bit, not as cruel and mean. But only a little bit. He LIVES for the surprise kisses.
Typa guy who’d ask ‘where’s my hug at?’
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╰┈➤𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲
This boy THRIVES off how sweet you are, it all works in his favour really. Your house is like his hide out spot, away from his… ‘work’ and honestly just everything.
You’re his safe space. His home.
He does think you’re a bitty dull though, and he often wonders how long his ‘I’m a hunter’ excuse will work.
He’d try his very hardest to keep you a secret from the others, but his Tourette’s to make him tic and stutter put your name and nicknames. Which definitely raises some questions on who this ‘Y/n’ and ‘Schatz’ is.
“A-a-and then he- Y/n- fuh-fuck…”
Please, please, please help him through his episodes and tic attacks. He’ll cherish you forever and ever. (He already did but it’s set in stone now.)
He likes that you’re nice to him, he feels so super duper special that he’s getting love and affection, him! Of all ppl!! (poor boy just needs some loving yall)
He’s ECSTATIC when you guys start to date, he’s not very experienced since he’s only dated Clockwork (my beloved) BUT HE’S A FAST LEARNER AND PICKS UP ON EVERYTHING QUICKLY!! ^^
He was so super shocked when you started giving him little kisses here and there, and it soon becomes a game of who can get the most surprise kisses in a day. (He’s proper pouncing on you to get to ur neck)
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╰┈➤ 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤
When you guys first met, it was around 9pm. It was dark outside, the street lamps Turing on one by one. We’re carrying home some grocery bags, and when you bumped into a tall, dark and mysterious man with an eerie mask… you immediately compliment his cosplay.
“Ohhh, cool cosplay!!”
“What…?”
Okiii, so anyways you guys are dating now<3
He’s a sneaky one for sure, out of him, Toby and Jeff, he’s the best at keeping what he does a secret. Not that’d you’d notice either way but… yh.
He’s a possessive bastard like Jeff though, he worries about how sweet you are to everyone, he’d hate if someone were to upset you or even worse, hurt you… (And if they do he’d take care of them for you)
He likes that you don’t question his grey skin, empty eye sockets, the sharp teeth, 3 tongues, and ESPECIALLY the tar dripping from where his eyes should be. Less work for him to make up excuses.
But, that doesn’t stop you from questioning his eating habits…
Always questioning him and lecturing him of he shouldn’t feast on raw ‘animals’. Yeah… you bet your ass he’s not telling you about the cannibal or demon thing. And it’s gonna stay like that.
You’re too sweet and pure to him to be revealed to the horrors that is himself. How he longs to be in a universe with you were he can be normal so you guys could live the white picket fence life style.
But, he doesn’t get that. But at least he gets you all to himself, demon or not.
He’s more stunned by your surprise kisses against his mask, but he does find it adorable, how couldn’t he? The way you lean up on your tippy toes with puckered lips. He can’t help himself but slide his mask up and take you right then and there.
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wowee was this long, can u tell I had to get this out of my system:3
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creepsopasta · 2 years
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playing games with some pastas
includes; eyeless jack, jeff the killer, hoodie, masky, ticci toby, homicidal liu, kagekao
eyeless jack:
- bit of a sore loser. not good with games that make him rage or online games
- voice chat with him is crazy!! he is literally foaming at the mouth yelling and cursing he is so bad at games :(
- “jack it’s gonna be okay” “FUCK you”
- he is not very kind about his losses
- most likely ends up throwing the control at the tv and breaking it (bad ending)
- whenever he ends up winning he’s ecstatic he does not stop talking about it and will brag about it to you exclusively. just go with it okay he needs it for his already shattered ego
- 0/10 experience would not do again.. okay maybe he would if you talked him into it and told him how much of a great player he is
- “i AM awesome aren’t i???” “yes you are <3”
- the more you play together the more he’ll learn to calm the fuck down and just enjoy himself
- still rages a lot tho
jeff the killer:
- plays board games like candyland and twister
- he’s a fucking shark he’s got all this shit down he knows how to win
- anyone who gets paired up with him for game night is 85% guaranteed to win (unfortunately there is someone out there who’s better than him)
- gets PISSED over not winning twister fucking furious he is literally the most flexible guy in this house he can do so much with his body
- monopoly is his favorite game. he esp loves to play with the younger pastas bc they believe anything he says and he thinks it’s hilarious
- “NOOOO PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY HOUSE” “your rent is $500,000, sally… it’s my house now”
- not a very avid video game player. he never really played a lot tbh
- good at everything EXCEPT connect four. do not make him play connect four he hates it he has terrible memories of it
- mastermind strategy planner. it’s a shame he doesn’t think this much at any other time
- boasts about it big time if you lose (you will probably lose) but might even try to let you win on purpose if he feels bad or sees you’re upset
hoodie:
- more of an arcade game guy. if you’re looking for like pinball games or pacman or space invaders or maze games or those weird money machines (that he kind of just. steals from) then he’s like great at all of them
- has spent hours honing his skills in his free time so you’ll be grinding for a while if you wanna beat him
- all the highest scores on the arcade machines are his. no one has topped them bc they’re fucking insane
- “wow you really have nothing better to do huh” [takes out gun] “that’s enough out of you jack can’t even fuckin move the joysticks around”
- tries to act like he isn’t competitive about it but he really super is
- thinks it’s just adorable that you think you can defeat him. no he will not be humbled by his lover of all people… that would make him a weak man
- goddamn merciless. no favors for anyone he revels in the rage he causes (see jack for more)
- if you’re a beginner he’ll take it easy on you until you learn the ropes and will offer tips but as time goes on he’s gonna be looking for a fight
- if he’s ever beaten, he will take it in grace and go straight from denial to acceptance
- does not rage that often. just hardcore practices until he’s like fucking unstoppable
masky:
- card player :(
- hates go fish tho he has such bad luck with it and everyone makes fun of him bc it’s like the universe does not want him to win
- good at boring ass stuff like solitaire or blackjack and if you ask him if he can play anything funner he’ll be like “oh so like rummy or spoons :]”
- no masky not like rummy or spoons… like uno or fucking play with some goddamn pokémon cards
- he’s so enthusiastic about it though so cmon just indulge him alright.. he literally has nobody else around him who’s into cards
- “okay so i win” “what… but we just started”
- he plays chess too!!! maybe you’ll find that more interesting?? he’s not very in touch with board games or anything this is the best he’s got
- deadass makes up his own rules if you don’t know anything about the game you’re playing
- “yeah so now you have to eat a rat. sorry babe”
- is never going to make fun of you if you suck at cards it’s not like he can beat jack in video games
ticci toby:
- dnd enjoyer he loves being the dm especially
- he, you, jeff, hoodie, lj, and occasionally masky have game nights and all you guys do is sit around the kitchen table trying not to curse each other out for doing stupid shit
- “c’mon guys this is supposed to be fun :(”
- doesn’t know that most of you have no idea how to play so he makes it super difficult
- has had to REPEATEDLY glue the die back together because jeff cannot stop snapping it in half
- “why does your dumbass partner always win this is fucking favoritism” “and then jeffery fell off a building and into the ocean 🥰”
- teaches you all you need to know about the game he will sit there for hours if he needs to just talking about the complexity of the rules
- he seems to have a lot of fun with it so everyone tries their best to not break the pieces or punch masky or yell at each other or punch masky
- better with snacks and drinks and lots of breaks so everyone can calm down and at least try to find some joy in the game
- 6/10 experience. would only try again without jeff at the table
homicidal liu:
- among us player… pisses everybody off bc he’s unfortunately very good at it and always imposter
- absolutely kills it (pun intended)
- no mercy he kills everyone including his loved ones this is a battle to the death and he is going to win goddamnit
- being imposter with him is some of the easiest shit bc he will carry the team entirely
- nothing to brag about tho since it’s a little space game and it’s really easy
- always knows who the imposter is if it’s not him he’s got some kind of foresight he will go out of his way to sabotage their chances at winning
- “would you love me more… if i killed someone for you 😇😇” “but you killed ME liu” “whoops”
- will stay with you for most of the game so he has an excuse for being innocent. once you are of no use to him he will stab you in the back
- relatively tame over voice chat. unless his brother happens to be there then it’s just jeff getting pissed off bc he can’t activate the reactor
- wakes you up at 2 am, phone in hand, smile on his face, asking “do you wanna play among us?”
- “liu, shut the fuck up and go back to sleep.” “ok.. :((”
kagekao:
- great at those games you play in your yard like frisbee or tag or hide n seek or maybe darts
- since the bitch can fly and run really fast it’s very unfair he pretty much cheats at everything and he thinks it’s funny
- frisbee with him is a literal field day. throws it so far you can’t find it ever again you’ll just have to buy a whole ass new one
- “what the FUCK kagekao” “🤷”
- laughs and makes fun of you for just not being as skilled as him maybe if you could fly you could beat him just get off the ground dumbass
- also likes to race but we all know how that’s gonna go (hint: he wins)
- unless he’s up against candy pop or something no one else really has a chance at beating him
- might help you a little bit if you’re struggling. like that one time he carried you up into the air and then dropped you because he thought it would be funny but then he couldn’t catch you in time so you ended up falling on lj and breaking one of your arms
- wrote you a little heartfelt letter about it later with a very fancy “sorry ❤️” in calligraphy and a few drawings of flowers (it did not help. your arm was still broken)
- really bad sport does NOT like to lose he will completely shut down
- little fuckin bastard
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honourablejester · 2 months
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Thinking about homebrew deities for ttrpgs, I’ve been pondering deities that are not default humanoid. A while back I made a post about D&D 5e’s version of Spelljammer, where the Astral Sea is littered with the corpses of dead gods, and I posited what some of those vast corpses might look like:
“These are the deities of a thousand worlds and a thousand species and a thousand forgotten realms. They might look like anything. Shaped by the echoes of the god’s nature and its domains and its species. The dead sea god that looks like a vast alien whale, whose gut is filled with strange waters and strange creatures, and into whose belly the party must venture. A forgotten deity of knowledge whose vast skull now contains a calcified, crystalline ‘library’ with aeons of knowledge written in light onto spun fibres of crystal. A deity of madness, darkness and despair whose corpse is a labyrinthine maze of passages that leech will and soul the further you venture into them, a lingering undead malice that doesn’t want you dead so much as maddened and undone.”
And I’m coming back around to that now. Particularly the sea god who’s a vast alien whale, because space whales, but I’m thinking about gods that are not mostly humanoid figures a-la the RL Greek or Norse pantheons, but are fully alien or weird or just non-humanoid. (I’m including elves and dwarves and most broadly human-shaped fantasy races under ‘humanoid’ here). Gods that do not appear in humanoid form. Gods whose primary worshipers are other forms of life. Gods who are weird.
I do have a couple of homebrew deities that don’t appear in humanoid form already. Nuissas, goddess of primal darkness, who usually appears as a vast eyeless abyssal fish. Ket, the First and Formless, deity of primal evil, who as the titles suggest is formless and possibly doesn’t actual exist at all. And while I was looking at them, I did notice a little … A little mental bias maybe. Because both of them are primal deities. Primordial. The first and the formless. Nuissas is likely the oldest deity in her cosmology, the primeval darkness that existed before all things. Ket is the first and formless evil, the first malicious whisper of a thought a sentient being ever had. They’re primal. Elemental.
Which made me wonder … Do I consider non-humanoid forms to be more primitive than humanoid ones? Not consciously, but just instinctively? Looking at it, gods of civilisation, knowledge, invention, law, are they usually humanoid? What sets humans apart from beasts? Fire. Science. (Possibly also thumbs). Is there a bit of post-Enlightenment bias at work here. Heh.
Although, to be fair to myself, Ineia, my goddess of city and civilisation, is also a spider as well as a humanoid woman. But she’s still humanoid, she just needed extra arms for all the work. So. Not quite enough to count, methinks.
This is only an idle thought, I want to mull on the idea of non-humanoid deities some more. See what I come up with. I just wanted to note to myself, while I’m considering, to look beyond just the primal sorts of domains while I’m at it.
That said, I do still want a sea god who’s a vast alien whale with innards full of strange waters. Being eaten by a vast divine whale-god is just too entrenched an image, you know? Maybe also a deity of light and twilight who is a vast beautiful bioluminescent jellyfish. No, I’m not stuck on sea creatures over here, absolutely not. But if you had a waterworld setting, you could have a LOT of fun drawing up a fishy pantheon. The deity of invention and adaptation is a cephalopod. The deity of war is a mantis shrimp. The deity of trickery and hunger and malice is an anglerfish.
But even in a standard fantasy world, some deities that are not and have never been humanoid. A dwarven knowledge deity who is the stone itself, a vast tracery of mineral veins across the world that carry thoughts and dreams and memories. A deity of trickery and magic who turns out, at the base of all its million forms, to be a simple mote of potential, something that looks visually a bit like a will-o-wisp or a soot-sprite made of light, a thought given vaguely physical form. A forge-god who built themselves, a machine-thing of metal and magic that built itself limbs and systems and housing as it required them, a monument to self-expression and self-construction, function over form, with no care for the aesthetic sensibilities of lesser forms of life. A black hole that is the deity of absolute law, remorseless and inexorable and pitilessly even-handed. A deity of remorse and sacrifice and healing that formed from the regretful blade of a monstrous killer, given life and divinity by their final act of self-murder. Gods who are dark moons and balls of mangled flesh and rivers of space time and tiny trembling animals and perfectly mundane objects and abstract shapeless things. Gods who are weird and funky and abstract and just do not deign to appear in familiar form for mortals. If I must look like you for you to worship me, you are not worth my time. I shall appear as I am, or as I choose, and you must simply deal with it, or shatter, as you so choose. Heh.
Non-humanoid deities, is my point here. I need to think on it some. Heh.
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tacit-semantics · 2 years
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I wish I was a fucked up sea creature I wish some poor scientist was digging me up from under a rock like yeah by all rights this thing should not be able to function WHAT is going on here
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Hobbies and Holidays, Or The Halloween Fic
Yes, I know it’s June. I just like Halloween, man. Yuu’s quiet dedication to the finest of holidays sours when confronted with assholes who fuck around for clout.
Contains coarse language, attempted violence, sexuality and nerds being nerds. As always, if you enjoyed it or have any questions, let me know! I like talking with people.
~*~*~*~
"What's cooking?" Ace, cheery as could be, walked his way up towards your set up on the Ramshackle front lawn. "Is it curry? I hope it's curry."
"You might not want to stand downwind." You poked at the bubbling mess on the propane stove, sweat rolling down your back. A beautiful August day, perfect for your project. This sure as hell wasn't something you wanted to do indoors.
"Whaddya mean by that?" The breeze shifted towards him, and he turned an impressive shade of green, stumbling back with his nose covered. "What's in there?"
"Mice. I told you to keep upwind." You went in with a hand strainer, and scooped a pile of tiny bones onto a ratty towel.
"Why are you boiling mice?" 
You mirrored his are-you-goddamned-stupid-or-something face back at him. "I wanted the bones. I went to Sam, but he said he's not allowed to order in dermestid beetles after last time, so I gotta do it the old-fashioned way."
"That's absolutely disgusting,” her said, the disgust and disbelief plain on his face.
"Don't we all know. Grimm fucked right off when the ghosts showed me the mouse graveyard."
"And your first thought at a pile of rotten mice was 'ooo, free bones' like some kinda crazy necromancer?"
"Yup." You scooped out another pile of bones. If you left them in there too long, they'd simply dissolve like in a cooked fish. As it was, you'd have to find a way to strengthen them. Maybe dip them in resin?
"Why am I your friend, again?"
"Because you feel responsible for me."
"Yeah. And you're fun when you aren't being weird and doing shit like taking cemetery pictures."
"I'll stop taking the pictures when I stop finding good grave iconography."
"Yeah, weird. I'm going to leave you to be a gross little maggot by yourself today."
"I'm not eating them."
"They're stewing in a pot."
"To get the meat off!"
"Yeah, whatever. See you at supper. I hope you don't stink."
"We'll find out, won't we?" you muttered, sotto voce, but he was already gone.
~*~*~*~
It was a beautiful day in September, and you heard him far before he knew you had. When you turned to look at Idia, floss wound around your fingers, he started. "Is my stealth that bad?"
You gave him the ghost of a smile. "You're not as quiet as you think you are." He hasn't cottoned on that you can hear what's in his headphones, if they aren't set just right on his head, and you aren't about to tell him. The face he makes when you pick him out so easily was too good to lose.
He nodded, fidgeted, looked at the spread on the table. "What are you doing?"
"Well, she's got to dry. So I'm working on this pattern until the top coat goes on."
'She' was a currently eyeless, disembodied head, that you'd picked up along with her body in a second hand store for a pittance. You'd unstrung her, scrubbed her clean, and now were putting on a face to match her sweet if imperious expression, a bratty princess of a girl in miniature. You hadn't realized you'd liked dolls until you'd seen her. But, when you had, your breath fled your throat in the same way it had only once since coming here.
He looked, but knew better than to touch. He did a little bit of craft work himself, mostly model painting, and wasn't about to muss your hard work. "She's... nice?" He didn't quite get the appeal, despite having two vinyl dolls you knew of stowed carefully in their packages under his bed. When you'd asked, he just muttered that they were anime characters and didn't come out except for photos because something something collectibles something resale value. Boys.
"I could do better. But it's enough. Thank you for letting me borrow the painting set up."
"Y... welcome." He squinted at the embroidery, finally noticing something. "Are those bones?"
In the center of each withered, poisonous blossom in your embroidery hoop, you'd stitched a tiny vertebra to serve as the center. "Yeah?"
"Why?"
"Why not?"
He wasn't ready to push it any further. "If you want..." He hesitated, and stumbled, and you waited until he just brought out his tablet to tap it out on a screen instead. "You can come do that in Board Game Club, if you want. There's a window. Azul shouldn't mind."
"I'll join you after I gear up and put the sealant on her. Thank you for inviting me." You gave him your best, most dazzling smile. "You know how much I like when you include me in your stuff. I know it's not always easy for you; how shy you are and all."
He squeaked and looked away, and you continued. "I should be there in about an hour. Make sure Azul doesn't keep up trying to wager me in chess. I can't fucking play worth a damn and he knows it."
He smirked. "He likes easy marks. Maybe try and get goo-"
You flicked a bone at him, and it hit him square on the nose as he yelped.
~*~*~*~
Welcome, October. Coolness and colour, a certain something on the breeze that felt like a home you'd never let go. Even if it hadn't quite hit the dorms the same way as they main area of the school. (Those little fairies that ran the weather machine didn't seem to believe in seasons for the dorms, or perhaps Crowley gave them a chewing out after the spring?) In amongst the Heartslabyul roses, you'd think it was still summer, and you weren't one to let a day of warmth go.
"Oh, in this chapel of ritual, smells of dead human sacrifices from the altar..."
"Stop that."
You looked up at Riddle, who'd found you in your secluded corner. "Why?"
"You can't sing and the lyrics are awful."
"Is there a rule against that?"
He nodded. "The queen gets to approve all music."
"Ah, of course, mine rosen liege. My petaled monarch. Emperor Rosa." A collar appeared on your neck, and you did not slow down. "Cardiac Sovereign. Dauphine De la Coeur. I can do this all day, Riddle; that collar don't do shit cause I ain't magic."
The colour was high on his cheeks. "Is it your job to annoy me?"
"Oh, you got me. I wake up and spend every moment thinking 'How do I best piss off Riddle Roseheart? How about I stand outside his door and blast nightcore from a boombox?' "
He narrowed his eyes at you. "Stop joking."
You laughed. "Yeah. I only do that with Shoenheit."
That managed to get a bit of a smile out of him. "Why are you being a pest over here, and not at your own dorm?"
"I'm just doing crafts, man."
"While sitting on the grass."
"Yeah, man. Won't be any grass to sit on soon enough. Made sure to not be on the croquet grounds or anything."
He looked at the mess of foam and ribbon around you. "What are you even doing?"
You looked down, and back up at him. "Crafts?"
"More specifically, before I kick you out for being awful."
You held up a padded frame, that you were carefully wrapping a satin ribbon around the many bars of it. "What does that look like?"
He just glared instead of admitting he didn't know, so you got to your feet and held the frame over your chest, the shape clarifying by being pressed over what it mimicked. "It's ribs. It'll tie on with more ribbon. Might put beads and stuff on it too."
He looked for a beat before nodding. "For later this month?"
"Indeed."
"... Continue, then. But be quiet!" 
He was nice enough to remove the collar before he left, but not nice enough to leave it off as soon as you resumed singing to yourself once you'd assumed he was out of earshot.
~*~*~*~
"Hey, Lil?”
"Yeah?"
You looked over the riot of cheery pumpkins and Far East aesthetics that had sprung from your lawn. "You should've asked me, first."
Lil smiled at you. "But then you would have said no."
"I wouldn't have. But," you guestured to the papier mache dragon, "Really, my dude? This isn't what I would have picked at all. I'm not going to match."
"You're working on a costume? Already?" He lit up. "What's it going to be?"
"You'll see."
"Do I get a costume?"
You looked down at your not-cat. "Grimm, I didn't think you'd want one."
"I do now!" He scrambled to your shoulder and tugged at your hair, wailing. "Costume! Costume!"
You rolled your eyes. "Stop that, before I sell you to Lil to practice recipes on."
~*~*~*~
Grimm was no help. He changed his mind every few minutes on what he wanted. At least your incorporeal roommates were a sweet help, finally gearing him up with a hat by the beginning of the week.
"Do you still need one, Yuu?" The middling ghost, the one neither plump nor skeletal, seemed concerned.
"No, babe. I've been working on this since..." August, you think. "I'm good. I hope I can get a week out of it. I could at least do a different face each day."
Realization dawned across his face. "That's what that was for? I see. I guess you won't need..."
Oh, he made you a costume. Layers and layers of rotten gauze from the curtains, a spindrift take on the bedsheet ghost. 
"Hey, I can use this, don't worry. Can you stoke the fire? I've got to dye this to match, I'll need some water boiled."
~*~*~*~
There's too many fucking people. You don't know any of them, they're loud, and they cram in wherever you need to go. But their fussing over you, their asking for pictures is nice. If only...
"Hey, are you lost, kid?" You lean down and reach a hand out to a fearful-looking six-year-old. "I can help you find someone who can help?"
He promptly burst into tears and collided into Floyd as he ran away.
"Hey there itty bitty. You need an adult? Hold on." Even with Floyd... being Floyd, he was a hell of a more welcome sight to the kid, and soon had him balanced on a shoulder to yell for his parents. "Who's under all that?"
"Your favourite shrimp, you overgrown string bean."
Floyd make an o of surprise and flicked the veil up. "It is you under all that! See, kid, She's not scary. She's pretty."
The kid simply eyed him dubiously before going back to trying to wave his parents down to get away from these lunatics.
All your hard work paid off beautifully. A mass of bones, beads and decay, a beautifully jeweled skeleton crowned with a fine halo of gold-and-bone spines and dried flowers. You rattled gently with every step, eyes staring out from a painted skull. They only thing you regretted was Riddle catching you earlier. Even if he hadn't intentionally steered it that way himself, everyone would assume you'd intentionally went to match Heartslabyul. Even more, now that you'd turned those curtains into a veil, even if you'd stuck all the bone and garnet drops you could onto the edges.
"Thank you, Floyd." You leaned up towards the kid. "Didn't mean to scare you, little darling."
The kid just stared at you in fear, and fortunately his parents came along to claim him, leaving you and Floyd by yourself.
"Shrimpie~" He'd scooped you up to replace the kid in his arms before you could protest. "You're so cute like this! Let's go to the alchemy room."
"What's in the alchemy room, Floyd." At this point you were used to him just... hauling you wherever. And you’d found that if you went along with the lighter end of it, he took you seriously when you said no. Weirdo he was, he'd at least gathered that you'd hang out willingly if he didn't push it.
"Oh, well you look so nice! You'll look much nicer in the water tube than the dummy we have in there."
"There are several reasons that can't work, Floyd. Least of it is I only breathe air."
"You're a ghost right now, you don't breathe at all."
"This outfit would not survive a dunking. I'm not sure it'll last the week if I don't repair it every night."
He kept smiling at you. "Even better! Wearing nothing at all on Halloween! Everyone would take even more pictures."
"Yeah yeah, and you have nothing at all in your room if I want to speed that up." You flicked his nose. "Put me down and we can walk over and check how it's going."
"Excuse me?" A stranger. "Can I take a picture of you and your boyfriend like that."
"I'm not her boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend. Go ahead though."
~*~*~*~
"What are you working on?"
Idia's voice was slightly muffled under the pumpkin head. "People kept calling my projection 'cute'. Idiots! They don't know the true fear of Pumpkin Hollow. So I'm adjusting the projection mapping so it's less cute, and more accurate."
"Hm. It seems fine to me as it is."
"You would think that. You don't care if there is a cuteness to things that are scary."
"There's beauty and sweetness in even death." You thought for a moment. "This is for that series you sat me down for? You got mad when I played with the toys?"
"Those. Are. Collecta-" he stopped when he whirled on you, faltering into silence. You really wished you could see the face he was making, he made such sweet faces, especially when he looked at you. You craved them, wanted him to look only at you with those expressions.
You smiled at him. "There's no use in leaving a toy in a box! I don't buy anything I don't intend to play with."
"Ah. Errrrrrrrrghhhmmm." He turned back to his work, took a deep breath, and turned back around. "You watched them, would you give me feedback?"
"Sure. Could you lean down a little?"
He did, and you carefully pulled off the pumpkin, revealing - nothing. No head at all.
You laughed. "Turn that off."
"Why?"
"I just opened your box. Time to play."
He made a strangled noise and started back, looking this way and that. "Right now? Anyone could come in!"
"Just for a moment! How can I give you a kiss if I can't see where I'm aiming?"
His head flickered into view, with a face full of mischief. "... Just one?"
~*~*~*~
"What happened to your makeup?"
"Wouldn't you like to know, model boy." You looked Vil up and down. "You're actually pretty hot like that. It's a miracle."
"Of course you would only find me attractive when I look like a corpse." He rolled his eyes hard enough to sprain. "Do I need to go lie down in a glass coffin too? Stay very still while you actually work up the courage to touch me?"
You snorted. "You wish I would touch you, you overblown jackass."
"With you looking like that? I'd die."
"Bite me, asshole."
"You'd like it if I did."
Your tone grew playful. "Is that a promise for later?"
"Ugh." His shudder was too exaggerated to be anything but an act. "Go ask your ugly little playmate for a bite, we all know what gross shit you get up to."
"You're just mad it's not you."
He pointed a perfectly manicured nail at your painted nose. "You're just mad I want nothing to do with you."
"Then why are you even talking to me?"
"I- why am I talking to you. Go away."
You did, but not before pulling on his cape to wrinkle it.
~*~*~*~
You had a dreadful feeling things were about to get worse. Call it intuition, or paranoia. But with any luck, that would change after a good night's sleep.
(It did not.)
~*~*~*~ These fuckers were getting exhausting. What a grand idea, picking unknown flowers to stick in your hair for selfies! That wasn't an excellent way to come down with a hideous case of contact poisoning at all. You had to swat one girl's hand away from a bed of monkshood, reciting symptoms of aconite poisoning at her until she stalked off in a huff. 
And futzing around with the decorations! The only reason you didn't outwardly congratulate Leona on trying to rip apart a bunch of tourists was that murder is supposed to be bad, no matter how irritating and disrespectful the murder victims were. Even you knew better than to go around fondling random ears and tails! 
(That's why you'd made the anatomy books in the library your friends. Far more polite than going up to a fellow student and saying, "May I feel around your skull for a few hours to satisfy my scientific curiosity? No one at home has ears like that and I'm very curious about the underlying muscle structures." )
Better see what's going on everywhere else.
~*~*~*~
You got up in tiptoe and lightly touched his arm. "Hey, Floyd?"
"??? Yes, Shrimpie?" His face instantly brightening, he dropped the absolutely delighted Magicammer he'd had pressed to the shelf and turned to you, leaning in as you crooked your finger.
You whispered in his ear, "Why waste magic on them when you can do so much more with your fists?"
He shone like the sun as he pressed his cheek to yours in lieu of something more intimate. "You always know just what to do."
~*~*~*~
"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE."
The crowd of idiots instead turned on you with flash photography. "Another ghost! This'll get so many likes!"
"I MEAN IT!" Blinking away the spots from your eyes and casting all good sense to the wind, you grabbed a fire poker from inside your bedroom door and started swinging. They laughed and clapped - and only stepped back when you got the damned thing stuck in the wall while taking a swing.
"What an excellent show!" And more. Fucking. Pictures. How in the fuck Vil deals with this shit without murdering everyone in a hundred-foot radius, you'd love to know.
"I SAID-" yank "GET THE FUCK-" yank "OUT OF MY HOUSE!" The force of finally pulling the poker from the wall sent you careening onto your ass, and Grimm only stopped long enough to laugh at you before resuming his own ineffective charge. You stumbled to your feet, muttering. "Stupid little mother fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking..."
"Oh, it's a chase game! Let's go!" And they all fucking scattered into different rooms as you watched them in disbelief.
"I am going to kill everyone in this building and then myself for good measure."
~*~*~*~
"Leave."
"Aren't you going to scare me, Miss Ghost?" This last idiot was joyfully skipping around a bedroom that you'd had the ghosts empty out, nattering into her phone. A livestream, you think.
You're in you goddamned pajamas. "Sure. We don't use this room because the floor's not sound. Get the fuck out and leave before you fall through to the next floor."
The girl instead started to hop in place. "Oooooo, so scary! You'll have to try better than that!"
You rushed her. You probably would have throttled her (and wound up with a new ghostly roommate in the process) but as she backed up, your leg went through the floor where she'd weakened it, which left her cackling. 
"You weren't kidding! Bye now!" And she just fucking left you there like the wretched asshole she was.
~*~*~*~
"I'm so sorry, Yuu."
"Nothing to be sorry about, Mal."
He rested his head on your bare knee and looked up at you. "If I hadn't picked your home as a stamp location, people wouldn't be invading this dorm, and you wouldn't have been injured."
"You fixed me up, didn't you?" He was the one who had pulled you rightways, and shut the scratches on your leg. Of course, he could have left your socks on to do that, but hey, those had been fixed too. You reached down and put your hand on his cheek, rubbing circles by his eye while he stared up at you like an adoring dog.
"This was supposed to be fun for you, so you could have a perfect Halloween."
"That's still a few days away yet. There's still time. And hey."
He blinked up at you as you leaned your face in close, flushing faintly as you did. "Any luck, we'll all make it to November without assault charges."
~*~*~*~
"Yuu?"
You subconsciously growled like a rabid animal as you turned to Lilia with your eye twitching.
"By all the queen's powers." He shrank back. "You alright?"
"Magimons broke the lock on our bedroom and shook her awake last night." Grimm was, by some miracle, in a better mood than you; content to be a comforting weight in your arms and be your anger translator.
"They took," you added, "my groceries."
Lil looked at you in blank shock. "What about the wards on your doors?"
"That's for magic, not fucking morons with no sense of personal space." If you made it through 'til November without actually biting someone's throat out and getting put down like a mad dog, you'd be sincerely surprised. "You of all people should know that."
"Hey, I put them back up after I drop in. You want to go sit with Malleus today? I think you need it."
"Nope. If I snap at him he'll take it to heart. Or just kill everyone who's not staff or student because they upset me."
"No he wouldn't."
"We both know he would."
"He would not because that would be bad press for the kingdom."
"... well, damned if I ever though I'd say this, but thank god for politics."
~*~*~*~
You stare at the empty plinths as everyone started yelling and scrambling. You look to the rubble of the statues, the bases, to Cater, and back to the rubble, nudging what may have once been a staff with you toe.
"And it's not even for a fucking political movement."
~*~*~*~
"Yuu, if we can get rid of the magicam monsters, we can have the party!" Grimm smiled up at you, all sharp teeth and blue eyes. "Aren't you happy?"
You didn't have the heart to tell him that at this point, you'd rather they'd just cancel everything and simply sleep through till All Saint's. Fuck your costume work. Fuck the party. Fuck everything. If you see another jack o lantern you will smash it. Fuck this holiday. You're so tired.
"Yuu, do you have ideas on how to drive the magicam monsters away?"
You stared past Cater's ear because you didn't feel like looking anyone in the face. "Tried to brain a few with a fire poker. Th'just thought it was funny."
This was met with the sound of air sucked through teeth, and a warm hand on your shoulder. "Come with me please!" And Ortho pulled you away with the force of a vaudeville hook.
"You're having a very bad time!" So sweet, so earnest. Right now he was the only person here who could be that chipper and you not want to put their nose out the back of their skull.
You gave him a weary smile. "What was your first clue, honey."
"She keeps kicking in her sleep. When she sleeps. And she's all snappy and horrible!"
You gave Grimm a single light warning shake. "Shut up, Grimm."
"Would you like to stay over so that you can rest properly?" He was hovering directly in front of your face. "Maybe if you're somewhere you won't be woken up, you'll feel better."
You raised an eyebrow and stared over at Idia, who was trying very hard to pay attention to both your conversation and his. "Shouldn't you clear that with someone first?"
Ortho rolled his eyes, the effect on his little boy face frankly hilarious. "Oh, he'd be so upset you have you over. Deeply so. He wouldn't get a wink of sleep with you there." He leaned in. "Except he would, because you wouldn't do anything to keep him up with me there, would you?"
You wheezed. "You think so little of me, Ortho."
"I like you very much even if what you both get up to is gross."
"Of every boy in this school, Yuu. You picked that one."
Ortho glared down at Grimm. "That is my brother you're talking about."
"Stop it. Can we check back in?"
~*~*~*~
"So we're going to run round and scare the piss out of them?"
Jade nodded. "That is the idea, yes."
"... Can I help?"
"Of course, Yuu." Jade smiled his smile that didn't reach more than a millimetre beneath his eyes. "But we've agreed you can't have any blunt objects. For everyone's safety. And the school's reputation, of course.."
"... Yeah, that's for the best."
~*~*~*~
"Can you guys watch Grimm for the evening?"
"Of course." Mal beamed at you from his seat on the Ramshackle steps. "Where will you be that he doesn't want to be?"
"I don't like the horse."
"You ride horses?" Idia was sitting between Mal's legs as Malleus carefully arranged the bright hair into a high ponytail.
"Epel taught me." You paused for a minute. "Do you?"
"Mother made me learn. I haven't in years."
"Makes sense." He didn't like the outdoors, after all. "Mal, how'd you convince him to let you touch his hair? He only lets me do that in private."
"It will look nicer coming out of his pumpkin helmet if arranged higher." Mal crooked his mouth and dragged his lacquered nails along Idia's scalp, making a soft noise when Idia gasped, shivered and abruptly stood up.
"Nope nope nope nope no more of that-"
"May I at least put the elastic in?" Mal held up a black band. "It's fireproof."
He instead snatched it and ran for the library as fast as he could without cracking the armour. You and Mal watched him leave.
"Hm."
"Mal?"
He was still watching the blue light vanish into the distance. "I think I can see the appeal." His dreamy smile gained a sharp edge. "What a delicious sound."
You snickered. "God, I know, right? You should hear some of the other ones I've got out of him."
"You're both disgusting."
~*~*~*~
You hadn't worked out an actual story for this one, just your ghostly roommates and Grimm telling everyone to leave the statues alone. But some asshole, wearing aviator shades and the ugliest piecemeal hoodie you'd ever seen, mounted a plinth to start taking selfies. And once that started, more got the idea, and joined him, trying to nudge the statue away to make room.
So, that's where you came in, pulling into sight at the end of the drive, in tarnished gilt and rotten splendor, jeweled Death on a pale horse.
Sunglasses looked at you and froze, before snapping another picture.
Fucking pictures. You're so sick of pictures.
You snapped the reins and nudged your heels, and who knew anyone on two legs could move that fast? Though potentially being run down by a warhorse was great motivation to move thine arse, as it were. And, thank god, everyone else booked it out the gate after him. 
It only took a little maneuvering to lock the gate while still up on a pale horse named Beans, and now? Time to take him to his stable and go the fuck to sleep. Maybe through past tomorrow. Fuck Halloween.
~*~*~*~
You were riding your merry way when a familiar voice called out to you. "You dropped some loot!"
"What did I lose, Idia?" His little speakers mimicking the clang of armour were working overtime as he jogged up beside you. Once he reached you, he held up... a shoe.
"Huh." You looked down, and you had indeed lost a shoe while charging down a bunch of Magicam-obsessed assholes on a warhorse. "Thank you." That's when you gave Idia a level gaze, and stuck you leg out at him.
He swallowed back his noise of shock, and shaking, took your stockinged foot and slid the shoe back into place. 
"Good boy."
He was turning from shell pink to a deep red that rivaled the roses in Heartslabyul. But that didn't mean he didn't know how to keep playing when emotions were high. Before letting go, he leaned down and kissed the top of your foot.
Now it was your turn to go red; a wonder the painted skull didn't simply melt off of your face.
~*~*~*~
"Shrimpie~"
You took a breath and prepared yourself. Scoopsies was inevitable.
True to form, Floyd had his whole conversation with you in a bridal carry. "We're gonna have the party!~ We chased them all away!~"
"That's..." Honestly, despite all the rage and pain this week had caused, you were rather happy about the news. "Nice."
"Ah - where'd your face go?" He leaned in, and you stopped him from getting too close with a finger pressed to his lips.
"I didn't feel up to wearing everything." Your embroidered gown and painted skull was replaced with a simple back veil and black dress. "I kind of hate this whole holiday right now and I'm ready to kick the next pumpkin I see."
He nodded, kissing your fingertip as he did. "I can help you after. But we need this all for the parade." He brightened. "You should paint up and get on the horse again for it!" He smiled, full of dreamy fondness and not a small amount of hunger. "I heard what you did to the magicam monsters... I wish I could have seen."
"Hey, I heard you didn't do too badly yourself." You leaned in conspiratorially. "Anyone pee themselves?"
He smiled like the sun post-eclipse. "Yup!"
~*~*~*~
Epel had been nice enough to help you kit out Beans in a fancy black harness, so in amongst the crowd of costumed students, you were both equally eye-catching. And hell, pictures weren't so bad right now. People were keeping a distance, murmuring to each other as they aimed their cameras. You thought you were getting a dirty look or two from Vil for stealing his thunder, but he had himself on the prow of a ship! It wasn't comparable.
"So," you said, leaning down a little, "How are you handling this?"
Idia looked up at you, you thought. "The mask makes it easy. They're looking at the costume, not me."
"I'm glad it helps. I wish you'd take it off, but you being comfortable is more important."
"What? You want me to ruin the effect by taking the mask off? Clearly you have no respect for the holiday." His voice had the sweet, bubbling quality that came when he was excited and happy, and it warmed you to hear it.
"Oh, no, of course not. But why would I want to taste a plastic kiss,” you said, reaching a hand down to run the trailing ribbon of his hair through your fingers, “when I could taste you instead?"
You had to give him credit, he only faltered for a moment before continuing. "Right now? In front of everyone?"
"I would if you'd let me, right now." You lowered your voice. "And worse."
He stifled a groan and only walked funny for another ten minutes.
~*~*~*~
"I thought you didn't like horses." The stables were in sight, but Idia had turned up, surprising you.
He rolled his eyes, and held his arms out. "Dismount, fair maiden."
What.
"I mean it. Your Pumpkin Knight awaits."
You shook your head, voice soft. "Baby, no."
"I'm trying to be romantic. Like your novels."
"Idia."
He stared back at you, sour-faced. "What."
"I outweigh you by at least sixty pounds."
"I can do this. I carry Ortho around all the time."
"Ortho's chassis is mostly fibreglass and aluminum. I can carry Ortho. I think Grim could carry Ortho."
He took a step forward. "Do you want me to leave you on the horse or not."
"His name is Beans." But, you managed to dismount into Idia's arms, where he stood stock-still and trembling.
"Kkc."
"Babe? Put me down before your back goes out."
His knees gave out first, and he crumpled beneath you as you both yelped.
"You alright?"
"hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"
You crawled off his chest and he could actually breathe again.
"Better?"
After a few breaths, he managed a weak smile. "Maybe kiss it better."
Beans beat you to it, snuffling at Idia's face to make sure he wasn't dead.
~*~*~*~
You are not much of a party person. You like them, but the ideal party is a few friends hanging around in the same room, chatting at a reasonable volume and then going home to go the fuck to sleep. This was a little much.
But you know what this party had that you hadn't seen in what felt like years? Cute girls. In cute costumes! You've been flirting your ass off, with decent success; it turns out that the Magicam Live you did with Vil weeks ago had paid off in the form of smiles and fluttered eyelashes as girls crowded around you to hear tales of how fucking obnoxious you could be in this school and get away with it because you had friends in high places.
At least, until you caught something out of the corner of your eye, and you stopped. "Hey, I gotta check on someone - raise your hand if you like boys. Okay, you see -" You stopped and pointed at your poor, unsuspecting target. "With the blue-black hair and the painted spade? That's Deuce, he doesn't know how to talk to girls worth a damn, so give him some slack. But he's a sweetheart, you won't regret it."
"What about the redhead?"
"Ace is a prick but he's delightful. Chat him up too." With that, you went to check on Idia, huddled into a corner after an attempted force-feeding.
"You alright, babe?"
He nodded. "They're too much. But I'm alright now."
You leaned back against a nearby chair, looking him up and down. "You sure you aren't going to eat anything? I don't think anyone's going to care too much if you have your face out."
He remained completely still, and you realized you could hear a faint whirring.  "Idia. Have you been using the robot double all evening."
"... I swapped out ten minutes ago."
You made a noise and he flinched. "I was going to swap back in after it calmed down!"
"... No you weren't."
"Okay, no I wasn't. But I was there for a while. I have proof, I brought plates back with me."
"You could have just told me. It's been a hell of a lot for you, I know what you're like."
Idia - well, his robotic avatar - shrugged. "If you're going to lecture me... come by and do it here."
You stopped. "You really want me to yell at you in person?"
"I want you to come by. If you want. You can stay as long as you want... if you want. I have snacks, and movies, and games that even you could play."
You snorted. "Oh, the siren call of a fucking nerd trying so hard to woo his chosen..."
"I changed my mind actually, you can't come."
"Aww."
"... That's a lie." He paused. "You can even take the Yume Twins out."
Those vinyl dolls he never let you touch. You throw your veil back and kissed the stupid plastic pumpkin head. "It's a date."
~*~*~*~
"Yuu?"
You peered at Malleus from around a stack of Tupperware. "Mal?"
"You.. enjoyed it all, despite everything?"
"Despite everything." You hefted the stack towards him. "Would you like to help? I want to grab stuff from the party that'll keep at room temperature."
He absently flicked a finger, sending the dishes swirling around to settle in a stack in midair, before placing a hand on your shoulder. "I have a... request."
"Anything," you said, and you regretted saying it as his breath hitched.
"Would you..." His voice faltered, and instead he simply wrapped you in a tight embrace, leaning down to bury his nose in your hair. You could feel him, chest heaving, scenting your greased hair through tulle, murmuring something against your scalp.
"Malleus."
He stopped, but did not move.
"No spells."
"You would not forgive me if I tried." You could feel his smile against your hair.
"I would not." You pulled back enough to look at him, and nearly froze at his besotted gaze before he schooled it into his more usual face. "Mal, you know you only feel this strong because I'm your first friend, right?"
"Does it matter? It is sincere."
And that makes it so much worse. "You know I don't feel about you like that."
"..." The grief that flickered across his face was enough to shatter a stone heart. "To stand with you and hold you is enough."
And they said fairies can't lie. They could, they were just terrible at it.
"You said you were going to ask for something?"
"... Not anymore. I doubt you would give it."
He vanished into thin air in a swirl of wind, and the Tupperware clattered to the steps, the spell holding them gone.
~*~*~*~
The nice thing about Idia's room is that, being a prefect, he had an attached bathroom to scrub the paint off of your face. It was a monochrome murder in the sink, splatters of grey with the occasional pinprick of red where you'd disturbed the new bumper crop of pimples from painting up as a skull for a week. Thank fuck that was over with. Even if the day proper had been lovely, the events of the week had thoroughly soured you on Halloween.
"You alright?" Idia poked his head in, long since divested of armour.
"Yup. How'd you get that shit off so fast? You got a suiting-up machine hidden somewhere?"
"It's less complicated than you'd think. Cosplay magic."
"That's nice. Unbutton me."
"... wha."
You looked at him via the mirror, meeting his wide eyes and shimmying in place. "Unbutton me. I can't reach them all myself."
"How'd you get that on every day?" He hesitantly walked behind, eyeing the row down your back as though it would burn him at the touch.
"I have roommates, remember?"
"Mmh." He finally undid the first three, before flicking his gaze back to yours in the mirror. "A... Are you sure?"
"I wouldn't ask, otherwise." You kept looking, as he took a breath and resumed. "Idia."
He paused.
"Keep going, I'm just going to chat at you for a bit." Two more. "You know I..." How to phrase this. "I don't intend to stay mint on card forever, you know. You can take me out and play."
He twitched, but kept going. "Maybe I don't want to damage you. There's only one of you, after all."
"I'm not so breakable." You had one side of you face completely clear, the other still smeared grey in the creases. "Would you rather stay mint condition, yourself?"
"..." He took a moment to gather himself, staring at the exposed skin of your back. "Maybe I want to... admire a bit. Get to know my- your- Uh."
You waited with a soft smile, until he found the words. "No one said you have to play straight away when you take something out of the package. Right?" He placed an experimental hand on the expanse of flesh between bra band and waistband, and did not draw away.
"Right."
"... Maybe I just want to hold you a bit before we play."
What a sweet boy you had. "Take all the time you need to. Even if we never play like that, I like you. Spending time with you is what I want."
You could see the motes of pink flickering through his hair. "Can I hold you now?"
"Of course."
He slid his hands under your dress, around your waist - then grabbed your soft, flabby tummy in both hands and squeezed. "Soft~"
You squealed with laughter. "What are you doing?"
"It's bare skin that's neutral territory," he huffed, before hugging your back to him and resting his chin on your shoulder. "And it's warm, too."
"Not so much as you. Keep me warm, will you? It's getting so damned cold at night."
He buried his face in your hair. "I can do that."
~*~*~*~
You woke to someone banging at the door.
"Son of a bitch." You managed to free yourself from Idia's sleeping grasp and make it to the door as a familiar voice started up. "Shroud, your tin can brother's already helping with clean-up, if you skip out because of a stupid game I will-"
You opened the door and looked levelly into Vil's face, which twisted in surprise. He gave you a once over (unshaved legs, mussed hair, boxer briefs from the men's section and a blue-black striped shirt that was clearly not yours) and then peeked over your shoulder at Idia (dead asleep, smiling faintly, possibly naked under the blankets). He kept looking between the two of you with increasing disbelief and horror, until he stepped back, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Good for you."
"Thanks." Your face still hadn't changed.
"It's twelve thirty. If you're not both out helping clean up by three, I'm telling everyone."
"That's not much of a threat."
"Maybe to you. Shroud!"
Idia shuddered awake, bleariness washed away by terror as he saw Vil in the door and covered himself in the blankets.
"Be out helping cleanup by three or I'm telling everyone exactly why you're late." With that, he stalked off and you shut the door, mirroring his nose pinch.
"Dramatic bastard, ain't he? Even when he's being nice."
"How is that nice?" He only stopped shivering when you sat back down on the bed.
"Two and a half hours, Idia."
He blinked at you.
"How much can we do in two and a half hours?"
Realization dawned, and he started snickering as he dragged you in close.
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ciestessde · 4 years
Text
NOT My Hero Academia: Part 1 “The Butterfly Effect” -- Ch.1
The butterfly effect is the idea that even slight changes in starting conditions can lead to huge changes in outcome.
Tomura Shigaraki is dead. All For One is searching for a new protege. And Izuku Midoriya never makes it to the Slime User's attack on Bakugo.
(A Villain!Deku origin story.)
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Quirks.
Most people in their world had them.
… And most abused them.
… and then…
There were idiots like this slime-quirk user.
All For One had sent a lackey with a stealth quirk, someone capable of staying unnoticed by the Number One Hero, in order to keep track of All Might and keep an eye out for good candidates… for Tomura’s replacement.
All For One didn’t have much choice after Tomura died. Sure, he could take just about any goon off the street with a bone to pick with All Might and turn them into a force to be reckoned with. But what would be the point of that?
What he desired was a personal connection. It wasn’t just about taking All Might -- or his successor -- down.
It was about breaking his spirit.
If watched long enough, All Might would mess up. It wasn’t ideal -- Tomura had been PERFECT -- … but it would have to do. All Might would screw up, ruin someone’s life, and he’d be there to pick up the pieces. Direct that anger. Turn that anger into hatred, and that hatred into POWER.
So his lackey followed All Might everywhere he went. And All For One watched what All Might did, and how the people around him reacted to it.
And then this slime-quirk user…
Well.
He supposed he’d seen dumber.
Through the sewers All Might went, following after the villain. And he caught the guy. Because of course he did.
And he stayed to make sure the kid who was attacked was ok. Because of course he did.
He even signed the hero-obsessed kid’s…
… Notebook…
All For One turned the mic on. It wasn’t unusual for him to tell the lackey to look closer at something. Granted, he didn’t always watch the feed, but, with All Might only able to do hero work for three hours a day, he didn’t need to. “When All Might and the kid look away, get a better view of that notebook.”
All For One wasn’t surprised it was filled with notes on heroes -- he’d expected as much from the title. No, what was surprising was how detailed the notes were.
‘And this is number thirteen? If the other twelve are anything like this one…’ “... Keep watching the kid, for now.”
After the kid woke up, and All Might got ready to leave, All For One expected to have to tell his lackey to drop watching the kid to follow the hero. But that kid… He had guts, clinging to All Might like that.
Then the icing on the cake: After landing, the kid asked, “Can someone without a quirk… become a hero like you?”
And that fool… Not only did All Might actually revert to his unpowered form in front of the kid -- the idiot actually told the kid “no” and to “be realistic”-
-and walked away!
The lackey went to follow All Might.
“No.” The lackey stopped moving. “... Stay with the child.”
Poor thing looked on the verge of tears -- absolutely crushed. ‘… He’s smart and observant. He has drive. ‘… If left alone, he probably will become a police officer like All Might suggested. An excellent one, even.
‘… Yes…
‘He’ll do nicely.’
And like that, All For One’s plan began anew. “Follow the kid. Don’t let him out of your sight.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Izuku was walking alone, away from where he’d just met his idol. Not really paying attention to where he was going. … Maybe that’s how he ended up inside all of a sudden???
He was in some kind of bar… He thought.
And sitting in front of him were two people he didn’t recognize. “... Huh?” Izuku looked around, thinking he’d just wandered into someplace he wasn’t supposed to be, starting to freak out and apologize to them.
“It’s alright. You made no mistake, Midoriya-san,” came a deep voice from the bar. “We’re the ones who should apologize to you.” Taken aback, Izuku actually stopped to look at him. The man talking, he… Well, with all the different quirks in the world, Izuku couldn’t be sure why, but… the top half of his face seemed scarred. The man didn’t have any eyes -- but seemed to be looking right at him. “-But after my subordinate heard the awful things All Might said to you, we couldn’t help but step in.”
The other man -- who looked like he was made of shadows -- set a glass of water on the counter in front of Izuku. “Please, sit down,” the eyeless man said to him, “I have some questions for you.”
“I… I really should be getting home,” Izuku said. This wasn’t good. This was the opposite of good. Everything about these guys screamed “villains” -- and they’d been watching All Might? Without All Might even knowing?! “Now, no reason to panic. Kurogiri here can get you home faster than any train. He has a portal-creating quirk, you see,” the eyeless man said, “I only want to know… how badly you wish to become a hero.”
Izuku paused, “… Huh?” his conversation with All Might flashing through his mind. “... I…”
All For One watched the kid’s face fall. That was all the answer he needed. Time to set the plan in motion. “You see, I’m in charge of a group of… well, vigilante heroes.” “Huh?!” Izuku blabbed -- then immediately covered his mouth. “Haha, it’s all right to act shocked!” the eyeless man smiled, “No need to hold yourself to formalities, go ahead and ask, if you want.” Lowering his hands, Izuku asked hesitantly, “But… why? Heroes make it to most crimes practically before they have a chance to happen! Why would…?” “Because…” All For One feigned anger, “The system is corrupt. The so-called ‘heroes’ are more focused on making money and becoming famous than on actually helping people. Not to mention the battles they aren’t fighting.
“Like, for example…” Izuku felt the man’s non-existent eyes on him again. “... society’s prejudice against the Quirkless.”
There was a beat of silence as Izuku and the man studied each other. “Tell me, Izuku Midoriya… What is a quirk? And I don’t mean the definition given in your textbooks.” “I…” he was sweating, “I’m not sure what you mean…” “What I mean, young man, is this: A quirk is…” the eyeless man got up, “... nothing more than a tool.”
Linking his hands behind his back and pacing, he continued, “Some tools are useful in a variety of ways. Others are a burden except in very specific situations. Many can be used as weapons, if turned against another person. The only difference between a tool and a quirk is that one is made… while the other is born.
“So I ask you again, Izuku Midoriya: How badly do you want to be a hero?”
Izuku, still standing, turned his head away. He looked toward the untouched glass of water, though he wasn’t really seeing it. He thought hard for a moment, then turned back to the man. The eyeless man was facing him, non-existent gaze penetrating. Izuku’s expression wasn’t nervous anymore. “No offense to you and your… organization. But not badly enough to break the law to do it.”
All For One smiled. “That won’t be a problem.” He gestured to Kurogiri, and Kurogiri handed him his own glass of… something. Alcohol of some kind, Izuku had no doubt. “We’ll just train you so you can become a licensed hero.” “Ah-!” Izuku jaw nearly hit the floor. “You…! But…!” It took him a few moments to find the words.
All For One took a sip of his drink, waiting patiently.
Izuku felt like he was about to faint. Too much was happening in one day. ‘But… if he’s serious…’ “You… You really think I could make it…?”
“Ha ha…” He looked at the boy, smiling. If Izuku weren’t so happy, he might have found the smile unnerving. “I wouldn’t even be offering if I thought otherwise. That,” he gestured toward the notebook in Izuku’s hands, “tells me all I need to know.”
Izuku looked at the notebook -- burned from when Kacchan took it, wavy pages and torn edges from its time in the pond with the fish … and with All Might’s signature in it. “Kid… Izuku Midoriya. I promise you…” He looked back up at the man promising him the world. “You have what it takes to be the world’s first quirkless hero.”
Tears were blurring Izuku’s vision before he even knew what was happening to him.
“Of course…” The man sipped his drink again. He took a deep breath. “… It will be grueling. And I won’t go easy on you. Knowing that…?” He turned back to Izuku.
Without any more prompting, Izuku answered, “I know… I’ll have to work harder than anyone else. But-!” He thought to himself, ‘I have no reason to refuse!!’ With steel in his eyes, Izuku shouted, “-I want…! TO BE A HERO!”
And the kid did, indeed, work harder than anyone else. For ten months he endured the most grueling -- but efficient -- training possible under the mysterious man he knew only as “Master.”
If anyone knew the man’s name, they never spoke it in front of Izuku.
He was trained in strength. Speed and agility. Strategy.
And even in the use of various weapons.
And when the ten months ended… He applied to the U.A. High School Hero Course.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Next Chapter]
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livewireprojects · 4 years
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So I was working on a pic for day 16 but I was working on it after work so didn’t have much time before 5pm to get pics.(I need a scanner one of these days) At some point I just looked at how dark it was getting in the room I take pics in & gave up. I also don’t know what to do for day 17, I want to guess something like Future Foundation or characters being in the simulation from DR2 due to the name of the project but I dunno. I might do something but the theme future is coming up so I’ll likely save it for that.
I’m rambling & kind of feel bad for my posts for day 15 So day 16 was alternate universes & I really enjoy AUs though a large amount of the ones I like are crossover plots. Most of the pics aren’t crossover based & are largely just based on past RPs. I made a bunch of pics & didn’t want to spam with posts for each so I tried to put as many as I could together.
The first three pics are based on a thing I call Monster Community AU thing, pretty much characters are secretly some kind of creature(witch, alien, merpeople, harpies, etc) living among humans but sometimes do things in secret areas other monsters hanging out at like a community of monsters.
The two scenes here are from different mermaid RPs, both from my Monster Community AU stuff again. Both pics involve RP plots that were DR1 happened, DR2 characters were trying to survive the aftermath of the world going mad(pretty much surviving in the destroyed city until finding somewhere or something) & some other stuff I’m going to leave out due to rambling. Just know this is technically a simplified version of the series post-DR1(if that makes sense? probably not) that was used because I keep doing shit in RPs.
The one to the left is from a plot were the survivors find a cave they end up staying the night in only to decided to check further & find themselves in a place other monsters are living in. For some reason Makoto is a grey eyeless big mouth monster, I think I was obsessed with a design I saw on Tumblr but can't find anymore. Byakuya is an octopus merperson because for some reason I imagine he'd be on if he was a merman. The second one is vampire Byakuya is living in a mansion his family had by the sea on a cliff area that leads to the beach. He ends up learning Makoto is a merperson(whose parents tried to keep him from learning about other creatures for safety) & expecting their kids. Makoto is a species of merperson that make nests in the sand when they have kids so Makoto had to stay in the water until the babies could swim by themselves. Byakuya will probably have some special pools setup in the house for the twins since they'll be to young to go into human form after the being old enough to swim.(It'll only be a couple months) At the moment Makoto is in a cave inside the cliff that leads to the ocean, some how the inside of Byakuya's mansion has a secret stairway leading down here. Makoto can't leave the water because his nest is here & his merperson instincts don't want him to leave until the babies hatch & are old enough to swim. Due to Makoto's parents hiding his & Komaru's mermaid/creature side Makoto didn't think much on the fact he was a merperson until he got pregnant & his instincts demanded he make a nest... That's also how Byakuya learned his family had a secret area of the mansion & proceeded lug a futon mattress/blanket down there to be close to Makoto. I didn't think much about it at the time but I guess something lead to his parents getting protective & scared if someone knew they were merpeople, then again there's a Japanese myth about eating mermaids/some kind of fish people would cause immortality. I almost forgot this but Byakuya hung up a net & decorations so the babies when down in the cave don’t swim into the sea.
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This one is based on an RP were Byakuya is a werewolf while Makoto is a harpy. DR1 happened, Byakuya & Makoto had a relationship but went their separate ways to find their families(see if there’s hope of them still being out there) while working on getting their lives together.(Since with the despair event they likely need to recover/figure out what to do now)
Byakuya at some point is house sitting for Hinata & Komaeda(originally it was his vacation cabin in the woods but something changed forget why) when he ends up having to help a harpy who lost their nest because a tree landed on it. He took the harpy in because they didn’t have anywhere to go & the crash broke one of their wings. He was to tired to think much about figuring out who the harpy was after patching them up because he was tired.
Byakuya ends up learning in the morning that the harpy is Makoto & pregnant. Byakuya reassured Makoto knew he was safe now & he(Byakuya) isn’t going anywhere. Byakuya later learned Makoto found his family but someone attacked & ditched him in the woods while injuring his eye. After that Byakuya helps Makoto recover & they eventually move to his vacation house when Hinata & Komaeda come home. Byakuya has a nursery for their eventual kids & Makoto ended up staying in the nursery sitting on the egg Ichigo was in when he had the twins. Len kept barking when he found her until she finally hatched.
Here’s Makoto perched on Hinata’s couch singing a bird tune as Byakuya listens, sometimes the blond will sometimes whistle which makes Makoto squeal in delight because it sounds like Byakuya trying to mimic a bird. Makoto is meant to be a House Martin harpy because the bird is cute & has fuzzy feet. Makoto’s hood/cape is just his hoodie tied to his neck, he can slightly still see out of the injured eye but without something to protect it things seem to bright during the day through that eye.
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This was the pic that lead to not posting anything the other day, as you can tell I made more pics right after managing to finish it. This pic is once again based on an RP(well two of them), for some reason I really liked doing this plot. The AU is pretty much everyone lives in a world of animal centaurs(in Kazuichi's case he's a shark merperson) & for some reason this is before modern technology exists. Everyone lives in caves that have been carved into homes with some having multiple rooms, they have furniture made from leftover stone, wood, some other stuff & clothes made out of normal animal skin like they're in Brother Bear or something. Given the state the world is currently at they seal off the entrances to their caves in the winter after making sure to have enough food to last it.(There's some that have the ability to hibernate luckily) I have absolutely no idea why I enjoy this so much. So Byakuya is a wolf(lol blond wolf fur) & Makoto is a pygmy goat(I made him a little bigger because again awkward size) but for the first RP I kept switching the species(from pudu deer to pygmy goat) because I was obsessed with those animals at the time. It ended with S having Gundam call Makoto a goat/deer hybrid so he's a deer goat in the first RP.(I didn't switch it often but kept talking about confusion) In the second RP Makoto stayed a pygmy goat for the entire RP. Len is a wolf centaur & Ichigo is a goat centaur, Byakuya & Makoto had other kids but they're preexisting characters(Komaru & Chiaki for some reason) & I'm mostly focusing on these characters.(I don't actually know what I was getting at) The twins are a couple days old, since Ichigo is a pygmy goat she's already active. Byakuya is laying down so she won't get hurt, Ichigo & Makoto's goat side makes them enjoy climbing things so the little baby is climbing on daddy. Len's eyes & ears haven't opened just yet so he's kept safe in a portable cradle thing since he's to small to play with his little sister right now.(Makoto will retuck him in in a moment) Makoto has a poncho thing because he has trouble keeping warm which luckily his kids didn't inherit. Also Byakuya is pretty strong so he can take his daughter & his mate trying to climb on him especially when Makoto is pregnant. It's ok & doesn't bother him in fact it's kind of cute especially since sometimes after that Ichigo will do a little jitter dance that baby goats some times do.(He'd also whether they climb on him or a stool thing than try to climb the side of their home or something bigger due to worrying about the two hurting themselves.
Byakuya & Makoto have slightly long hair because it's hard for them to cut their hair with a dagger Byakuya worked on for hair cutting. Byakuya is hoping to eventually trade something for a mirror some traveling trader visits, maybe see if someone in the pack can help with cutting hair not that it matter much.
Go check out @naegamimonth​
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world-of-horrors-au · 4 years
Text
Horrors AU - Hunters in the Forest
I have no idea when this takes place, or what the context is, or if its even canon to this au. Despite this, I hope you enjoy it.
---
Her family wasn’t waiting for her when she got home from work. No texts from Ben, or Jeff, no notes from Eyeless or Laughing Jack. Never a good sign. Briar changed out of her work clothes into her normal attire, glancing out the window every few minutes to see if they were waiting. There was nothing. 
Jeff told her to never enter the Forest alone. The animals were the least of her worries. The Tall Man’s proxies were smarter than any animal, and far more inclined to cruelty. She was the youngest Horror, still coming into her power, easy pickings for the more aggressive of them. What they might do to her, Jeff never said, but the look in his eyes suggested he’d found out personally.
Still, as night fell and no one reached out, she worried. Did something happen? Had they been captured? Did a killing run go wrong? There was nothing on the news about it. Capturing such famous Horrors would be repeated everywhere, on national and local news. Something wasn’t right.
Briar took her bat and entered the Forest.
The Forest glowed at night, soft illumination coming from moss on the trees and midnight flowers. Stars like she'd never seen peaked through the interlocking canopy, and moonlight fought its way through. Part of her wondered if she should've brought a flashlight, but that would've definitely attracted unwanted attention. The last thing she needed was to catch the eye of a predator.
But luck had never been on her side.
He stood in the darkness, she almost missed him. Briar stopped, heart picking up, and pressed against a tree. It wasn’t the Thin Man, no, it was one of his army. The clothes gave him away, even though she couldn’t see the dark mask under the hood. She swallowed. That was the leader of the proxies, wasn’t it? They called him Hoodie. 
She teethed the inside of her lip. Had he heard her tramping through the Forest? She hadn't been quiet about it. Jeff thought it was more important for her to learn how to sneak through houses than the outdoors. What was he even doing out here, alone at night? Were the other Proxies around? The idea of meeting them churned her stomach. She'd heard stories about them all from the others. Masky's bad temper. Beastie's relentlessness. Kate scratching out eyes with her claws. Toby's… everything. The only one that wasn't feared was Skully, but even he killed without mercy or regret. And they’d said Hoodie was the strongest of them all.
The man wasn’t doing anything. He lingered by the tree, running a hand over its moonlit-paled bark. Briar tensed, preparing. She was a Horror, he wasn’t. If she had to, she could outrun him. That was how half of the encounters went, one side choosing to run instead of fight. She was going to be okay, she told herself. She could survive this.
Wood snapped not far away. Briar jerked towards the sound. Saw nothing, the Forest quieting again. She looked back to Hoodie, and he stared right back.
Briar ran.
Trees rushed by, plants and dead leaves crushing under her feet as she ran. She didn’t look back, she kept her eyes forward, her mind focused. Nothing mattered more than escape.  The Forest was quiet, her panting as loud as her footsteps to her ears. She couldn’t hear anyone following.
She thought, he must’ve decided to leave me alone. He must’ve had more important things to worry about. But she still didn’t stop. It was only when she reached a small clearing that she slowed down, the deer on the edges scattering at the sight of her.
Running through the undergrowth was a lot different than on concrete. Briar liked to think she was healthy, kept up good habits, exercised often, but she still fell forward, one hand grasping her knees, panting, panting. Was it really just exhaustion causing her to run low on air? Or was it the fear crawling up the back of her neck that made her ache so?
She must've lost him. She hoped she lost him. That he didn't follow her this far into the Forest. She'd heard nothing behind her, and no one could move that quietly, could they? Especially not in the dark like this. She was safe. She had to be safe. 
Briar looked behind her, in time to see the masked man aim the rifle at her body.
The bullets went over her head, Briar dropping into the dirt moments before it was too late. Her heart lodged itself in her throat. She heard the soft curse from him even at her distance, and scrambled back towards the safety of the trees. She couldn't outrun bullets. Like always, she'd have to out-think him.
Another shot, it grazed her arm but she barely felt the pain. She gripped the bat like the lifeline it was. A kind of plan formed in her mind, half-assed, more images than logical thought. Hiding in the trees, getting behind him, slamming the bat into his head. She couldn't run forever, she had to fight back.
Her heart clenched. What if the proxies had done something to her family?
Dirt under her nails, the trees pressing closer around her than they felt before. Now she could hear him, plant life crunching under his feet, eldritch growls leaving his hidden throat. He must want me dead, Briar thought, why else would he have that rifle? If Jeff were here, he'd know what to do. If she died here, none of them would find her body. Their faces passed through her mind, and her heart went cold. No, she wouldn't die here. She would kill Hoodie first.
She ducked behind a tree, held her breath. The longer she listened the louder the footsteps became. He must know something's wrong, she thought, knuckles white on the bat. He's waiting for me to break. They came from the side, boots crushing life under his frame, and she saw him so clear, so close, that she could see the texture of his signature clothing.
Briar struck.
Her bat hit the side of his face. He roared in pain, staggering. She didn't hold back, screaming herself as she swung the bat again. Hoodie twisted, she hit his torso, he raised an arm to block the next blow, she hit with all the strength she had. Oh god, she thought, he's as tough as me. Any normal human would have died on the first blow. I have to fight harder.
The rifle tumbled from his grip, but didn't go off again. Hoodie lunged. The bat missed. His larger form knocked her into the dirt. Briar screamed again, like a rabbit caught in a trap.
"Give up," Hoodie snapped. His fingers gripped her arm, she felt the bruises forming already. His other hand wrapped around the bat. "Let go."
"No!" She shouted.
Horrors were stronger than any human, but he was not a normal human either. His gloves brushed against her bare fingers, his grip better than hers. Briar cried out, the bat pulled free. Hoodie threw it aside, she heard it slam into wood.
"Give up!" Hoodie shouted.
"Go to hell!" She wouldn't die so easily. Briar jerked her knee up, burying it into his side. A gloved hand wrapped around one of her wrists, but with her other, she slammed the side of her hand into his throat. That worked, he gagged. With as much strength as she could summon, she shoved him off. She had to get her bat. 
Two paces away from it, her hand already reaching to snatch it from where it lay, something slammed into her back. Briar dropped. A boot pressed down on the small of her back, and the muzzle of the rifle pressed against her head. She knew it was over.
"Give up?" Hoodie asked. Briar didn't answer, panting. Her body ached everywhere.
He nudged her with the muzzle. "Do you give up?" He said in a voice that would not be denied.
She nodded.
"Say it," he ordered.
"I give up," Briar whispered into the dirt.
"Louder," he said.
"I give up!" She shouted, and swallowed a sob. Hoodie grunted.
"Good." 
The pressure on her back increased, he was kneeling down. He took one of her wrists and pulled her arm behind her back. Something metal clicked.
"You have no idea the trouble you've caused us," Hoodie said. Briar swallowed. The handcuffs snapped on. "We're going to make sure you don't cause us any more trouble again."
"What did you do to my family?" She asked, voice shaking.
"The hell are you talking about?" Hoodie pulled her other arm behind her back. "We didn't do anything to them." And she heard the smile in his voice with his next words. "But we're gonna do a lot to you."
Her heart raced. What were they going to do to her? 
His hand fished in her pocket. Briar felt him pull her phone free, but said nothing. In the darkness, she couldn't see where it landed, but it sounded close to the tree her bat was by. She exhaled hard. She had to be brave.
"Alright you," he gripped both her arms. "Let's go."
Hoodie pulled her to her feet. Briar grunted, stumbling, but he gave her no mercy. With one hand he held the rifle, the other he gripped one of her arms.
"Where are you taking me?" She asked.
"Wouldn't you like to know," he said, and pulled her arm. Briar had no choice but to follow.
As their footsteps faded, Briar's phone lit up. A ringtone echoed through the trees, unheard by the two, now long gone. Jeff called, and kept calling, until Briar's phone died.
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cttrajan1206 · 4 years
Text
So maybe. While among us is booming rn. Cough, ill share a lil drabble i did, based on my games with my friends @dragonfruiteen and @justalexnoelle and @a-mega-sad-nerd
---
(note this took me two nights and Mercutio was present for the first one and you can Really Tell Because It Reads Better, Frui's pov was All Me And It Shows akbdf)
Eyes. It always seemed to be the eyes that opened the gateway to emotion. To empathy. Humans lacked such a key feature. If they did indeed have eyes, the windows to the soul, the mind of another creature, then it was clouded. Hidden behind a frosted blue screen that provided a concealing shade to any hint of emotion. It was with these "eyes" that they looked upon CT.
And what they saw, they turned blind to, the fog of their visors deceiving them and clouding up their vision. What they saw was a monster, a hideous creature with unnatural limbs and eyes. What CT saw was the same. Except there were more of them.
Shrieking desperately, their cry of fear was taken as a roar of hunger and these multi-chromed cloned monsters closed in. Their hands held no warmth, gone from their bodies and empty faces was any sign of a living sentient being with a conscience. If there ever were any there in the first place.
The experiments were horrible. Terrifying masks devoid of any tainted spots betrayed nothing on their facade of a frigid outer exterior as they conducted the tests. CT was trapped, alone and afraid. The electrocutions didn't aid their jitters, their tendrils quaking with fear each time they were forced upon the podium. No manner other than Man's could be so cruel. Unspeakable things to do with drills and lasers occured in that test lab. Things too horrid to repeat.
And yet. There was a shining light that burned brightly and illuminated the path ahead. Frui. Frui always treated CT as a friend, fir dark skin patterned with glowing cyan networks that ended with the plant sprouting atop fir head. No matter the amount of experiments that day, Frui and Teddy always made sure to visit CT secretly afterwards, often bringing treats. CT could speak to them, using phrases and words they knew well. Though the constant screaming left their voice hoarse and sore, they always made sure to give them in turn their thanks - a love shaped by finding a blooming bud of friendship in a stale place of loneliness.
But that didn't last long. Because all beauty is meant to never last and alas, theirs was meant to have its time cut short ever swifter.
It wasn't on purpose. Not the first time. A tired security guard must have miscalculated their reaction time and left the door open. CT stared. They'd always dreamed, too afraid to dare and grab a hold of a rope to save themself. And Frui was due to visit soon. But what caged bird would ignore its chance for freedom? So they rushed out, slithering across the floor and through the corridors. Not one map could help their journey and each path they tried twisted endlessly like a writhing snake. It seemed hopeless but no light could be without the darkness. Determined, they pushed on, discovering the useful utility of the vent systems. Just as they caught sight of the exit, down from their eye they spied Frui's plant. Goodbye. That was what they wanted to say one last time. Goodbye and Thank you for all the time Frui had spent with them, for being the light in their life and for being kinder than the others. Entering the room, they waved a tentacle friendlily, happy to see their friend
Frui immediately gave CT up to security.
Blank eyes. As cold and clouded as a dead fish's. CT knew every human must've had the same but they somehow had convinced themself that Frui must be different. That some empathy lay behind that voided screen for eyes. They had seen how tender and loving fe was with Teddy and fe had always treated them as a friend.
Now, however, CT realised that such affection was reserved only for other humans. A lowly monster like them couldn't ever truly be seen as a friend. As someone to trust and set free. As someone to treat as an equal. Only as something to be used. After all, if that hadn't been the case, and Frui felt they were a friend, why did fe turn them in?
The experiments became more and more frequent and painful after that day. Each hour was torturous, excruciatingly beating the seconds past as slowly as possible. Frui and Teddy tried to visit CT anyway but they wouldn't let the two humans in. Never again would their lonely heart even consider opening up to another ever again. Never.
The second time was no mere accident. This time, CT had planned, schemed and plotted it all out. This time, __they__ would be the betrayer.
A squadron of humans were to depart on a mission through the dropship to the basecamp Polus. CT knew this. They weren't to cone as the investigation was on the lava's seismic activity not their alien form.
But that didn't deter them.
Frui was on that ship. Defenceless and wide open. So after killing a local human with keys, CT set their plan into motion. Their suit was lime, a nice enough bright green colour,
And looking through the owner's stuff made for the discovery that fedoras were the Ultimate Hat. A little bit of practice was needed but they handled it quickly and efficiently. Soon, they donned their screened eyeless mask and waited. They were ready.
Was Frui?
<•∆•>
Last Frui checked, the lime suit belonged to one of the security guards. It seemed weird since fe didn't recall them being on the mission. When fe went over to say hi, fe got no answer. Instead, the suit fished out a notebook and wrote inside.
“Throat sore. Can't talk.”
Frui nodded, understanding, and gave them a thumbs up. The guard seemed to study them before scribbling down.
“I'm new here and don't know my way around, could you help me?”
Frui nodded and then whipped around.
"Alex! I got a parasite for you to take!"
The fedora nearly fell as they flinched, seemingly disturbed by the nickname. Frui quickly explained.
"Oh we just do that since Alex leads the mission. We say neb 'hosts' the assignment since neb's leader and we joke that we're all parasites seeking to take over the ship."
Fe laughed and the guard nodded solemnly. It was a little weird, a bit sus, but eh. Who was Frui to judge? Fe lead the guard to Alex and waved goodbye just before the dropship landed.
That was the last fe saw of neb.
It was slow and subtle at first. Frui hardly notices any suspicious going ons as fe did fir tasks faithfully. Sure, fe passed Nerd once and never saw him again but fe figured he was just doing tasks too. Teddy was always with fir too. They held hands the entire time and went everywhere together. They were inseparable, doing tasks alongside each other and never leaving each other's sight. It was nice, they were nearly both finished as they headed to the medbay to get scanned the halls moaned emptt, haunted with absence. Their footsteps echoed as they headed past the laboratory. Teddy was right by Frui. He was safe so fe was glad.
And then the lights died.
Frui couldn't see anything, it took fir eyes time to adjust to the dark. Teddy yelped and fe instinctively reached out and grabbed his arm, sliding down to his hand. It felt… thinner and slightly more squelchy than bone but in fir panic fe overlooked it.
"Come on Teddy, let's go!"
Running to fix the light, fe pulled Teddy along with fir. Fe got as far as outside before Teddy pulled away, yanking his hand out of fir grip. Confused, Frui half whispered in choked shock.
"Teddy-?"
There was no reply.
Fe was left there in the dark cold. Alone and afraid.
"Teddy??"
This wasn't like him. Teddy would never abandon fir.
"Teddy!"
Suddenly, fe felt a presence near fir. A hand on fir shoulder. Teddy. In the dark, fe couldnt see it but that reassuring squeeze had to be Teddy.
And then the lights flickered back on.
And fe saw there was no one there. Just a wispy trail of snow. Confused, scared and worried, Frui ran into the lab. Desperately searching for Teddy. Any sign of him. Nothing. No one. What happened?? Where did everyone go?? Why was fe… all alone. Think. Think think think. Frui thought and remembered that Teddy had a task in the office. As fe headed there, fe reassured faethself that Teddy would be there. The hope was slim and delusional but fe needed it. Sliding open the east entrance, fe walked towards the office. Eyes constantly shifting, fe scanned every inch of fir sight for Teddy, skimming every surface when a flashing light caught fir eye. Wandering closer, it became evident that it was the vitals monitor, keeping track of everyone. Frui didn't move close. Seeking answers from this had the chance of solidifying one of fir fears. Did fe dare? Yes. For Teddy. Slowly, fir sights focused on the monitor and fir heart dropped.
Dead. They were all dead. No signs of life showed for any of the crew members. Not even Teddy.
All that still flashed and thrummed with energy was Frui's heartbeat…
...And the lime guard's.
Stomach dropping in an instant, Frui stared at the monitor in horror. No. Nonono. Why? Why would they? Fe felt sick, barely restraining faethself from puking as the timeline matched up in fir head abd fe realised what had actually been going on. Fir crewmates were being murdered in cold blood and fe had had no idea.
A squelching sound of something crawling out of a hole alerted fir of someone else's presence. Hesitantly, fe turned around, already knowing what would face fir. After all, who else? There, standing casually against the wall, was Lime. They waved cheerfully. Frui bolted for the doors and heard an inhuman laugh as fe realised. The doors were locked.
Thud. Thud. Thud. The monitor beeped quickly, matching Frui's heartbeat. The lime suit stepped forward and in time to it, walking leisurely and yet quickening smoothly. In a flash, they had Frui backed to a wall unsure what to do, Frui was about to try pushing them away and running when… curiously… they began to unlatch their helmet. A hiss sounded as they slowly unscrewed it off, the fedora falling to the floor. Frui couldn't believe fir eyes. Staring back at fir, almost mournfully, was…
"CT…?!"
They nodded and reached forwards with a tentacle. Frui flinched. This made CT pause and anger flashed in their eyes. Suddenly, Frui felt a stabbing pain searing througg fir stomach. Blood dripped from CT's mouth as the serrated tongue slid back in. They seemed sad yet satisfied as Frui's body fell to the floor, limp. The last thing Frui saw was the monster walking away, uttering a single word with their hoarse throat.
"Goodbye."
<END>
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brokenmimir · 4 years
Text
Huntress Mark IV: White Rose
White Rose Week 2020, Day 8: Free Day
Faced with the unbeatable Grimm, humanity adapted, developing a new weapon capable of dealing with the giant monsters.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24773473
“I would kill for a cheeseburger,” Ruby sighed.
Weiss ignored her, even though she knew that doing so would only make her dolt of a partner worse. Sure enough she sighed again, louder, and, when that didn't work, she actually said 'sigh' out loud. Finally Weiss bowed to the inevitable. “What?”
“I said, I'd kill for a cheeseburger.”
“Well, unless you intend to try human meat I'm not sure what you expect me to do about it,” Weiss said.
“I don't want you to do anything,” Ruby pouted. “I just wanted to complain.”
“Oh, I see,” Weiss hummed. “Well, if we're complaining about things that we know won't get fixed by talking about it, I'm stuck with a dolt of a partner who won't let me focus on the sensors when we're waiting to ambush a pack of Grimm.”
“Jeez, that does sound annoying,” Ruby said blithely. “Hey, if you could eat anything, what would you eat? Like, right now? Usually I'd say strawberries, or cookies, but I really want a big ol' juicy cheeseburger. What about you?”
“Some silence maybe,” Weiss said. “I would love some silence.”
“Silly Weiss, you can't eat silence.”
Weiss just closed her eyes, slowly counting to ten in her head. It wouldn't look good if she strangled her partner while on the job. Or ever, probably, although she'd likely get a special dispensation from people that knew Ruby if it didn't interfere with her field work.
A beeping sound attracted her attention, and she stiffened, focusing completely on the many screens in front of her. Even Ruby became quiet, recognizing when Weiss was in the middle of something that truly demanded all of her attention.
“I'm picking up Grimm,” Weiss said. “I'm reading a pack of Beowolves. One of them might be an Alpha, but he's staying in the middle of the pack so it's hard to get a reading on him.”
“ETA?” Ruby asked.
“Five minutes,” Weiss said.
“Alright!” Ruby cheered. “Let's get this finished! We take care of this pack and we can head back to Vale and celebrate.”
“That sounds nice,” Weiss said with a smile as she began to work her way through her part of the checklist as the two of them prepared for combat. “We should go to that new sushi place that just opened up.”
“What- no! Cheeseburger Weiss! Cheeseburger!”
“But you said celebrate,” Weiss said innocently. Despite the amount of wear and tear they'd put on it over the past few years, their vehicle came up smoothly, the work by the mechanics, as well as their own care, keeping it ready despite everything. “Sushi would make for a nice celebration.”
“Bleh. Raw fish. That's not food. Where's the grease? Where's the meat. Where's the beef!”
“But Blake would come along if we go for sushi,” Weiss said. “Checklist clear. Ready?”
“Checklist clear, ready,” Ruby agreed as she flicked the last few switches. “Condition green, everything normal. And if I ask Yang she'd go for burgers, and then Blake would come with her.”
“Not if I mention sushi to Blake first,” Weiss said smugly. “You know there's no way Yang would disappoint Blake by not giving her fish when she asks for it.”
“Noooo!” Ruby cried. “Not if I get to them first!”
“Who's running the comms, Ruby,” Weiss said. “I just need to type a quick message…”
“No fair! Please! I really, really want a cheeseburger. Greasy beef, gooey cheese, greasy and gooey bread from the beef and the cheese… and all those crispy, greasy fries!”
Weiss made a face. “Ugh. Are you trying to convince me to send Blake that message?”
Ruby sighed. “What do you want?”
“Want?” Weiss asked, an expression of false innocence on her face so fake even Penny would've seen through it. “Whatever do you mean?”
Ruby crossed her arms and gave her a look. After a moment Weiss smirked. “Well, there was that new ballet opening this weekend.”
Ruby looked torn, her face pained as she struggled with the difficult choice, before finally her shoulders slumped. “Fine. We can go to the stupid ballet.”
Weiss leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. “Now see, was that so bad?”
“Yes,” Ruby pouted.
“Well, why don't you work out some aggression on those Grimm,” Weiss said. “They'll be here right about… now.”
With that Ruby flicked the last switches, grabbing both sticks and working the pedals. Their combat mech, a Huntress Mark IV, stood from cover, the plants they'd affixed to it falling away to reveal its custom white and red paint job. It resembled a human knight without a head, but standing twenty feet tall, and was exceptionally bulky and broad in the chest. Bight spotlights on either side of the torso lit up the dense woods at the press of a button by Weiss, and the arms lifted, revealing the pair of heavy gauss gatling cannons mounted on the underside of each.
Even inside of the protected cockpit the sound of both cannons firing was loud. They spat forty millimeter ferrous slugs at five times the speed of sound, at a rate of two hundred slugs per second. Anyone outside of the combat mech would've been instantly deafened, and even nearby Grimm howled in pain at the assault on their eardrums.
Trees between them and the Grimm pack were instantly cut down, and the Grimm faired little better. As Ruby scythed the arms across the battlefield Grimm were cut cleanly in half, the giant monsters, which rivaled the height of the Huntress mech, were no match for so much firepower at such close range.
Weiss kept a close eye on the sensors, calling out warnings whenever one of the Beowolves tried to flank them. Ruby would respond by running the mech backwards, or, if that failed to buy sufficient distance, she would fire off the jump jets, sending them flying through the air until they were away from the rampaging Grimm.
“I see the alpha!” Ruby shouted.
“On it,” Weiss said, quickly preparing a firing solution. Once she had it ready she glanced at the main view screen, where the gargantuan Grimm, half again as tall as their mech, loped towards them, its thick white bone armor repelling even the devastating gauss cannon, as Ruby kept one firing at it while the other continued mopping up the smaller Beowolves. “Ready!”
“Light 'em up!” Ruby shouted.
Weiss flipped up the cover on the button, and then pressed it. The shoulders of the mech lifted up, revealing four small missile launchers on each side, which then began to spew forth dozens of missiles from each tube. The screens dimmed, replacing the normal picture with a composite from the high resolution radar system and other sensors, as the explosions from hundreds of plasma missiles fired at point blank range made sight impossible. Their own mech rocked on its stabilizers, before the barrage cut off.
“It's too close, pull back or get out the scythe,” Weiss said.
“Hmm, it'll regen too fast if we pull back,” Ruby said. “Looks like the missiles peeled its armor off, so I'll go hand to hand.”
Weiss looked up at the main screen, which had finally reverted to normal vision. The Alpha Beowolf was missing its armor and skin, with black smoke rising from all over its body. Despite that the creature kept pressing forward, somehow moving even faster as it kept the ruined, now eyeless face pointed at the mech. All around the beast was a vast, oblong wasteland of glass, as the plasma missiles had utterly vaporized everything within twenty meters of the Grimm as it moved, the heat so intense that the surrounding trees turned directly into ash without starting a forest fire.
With a whoop of excitement Ruby launched the mech towards the Alpha, pulling a long pole from its back as she did so. The pole served as a barrel for the long sniper rail gun, which fired hypervelocity rounds capable of destroying a normal Grimm to the very edge of radar range, but it also served as the body of the mech's melee weapon. With the press of a button a blade of pure plasma emerged from the end of the pole, creating a massive, incredibly lethal scythe, which Ruby quickly put to use.
As much as she enjoyed watching Ruby fight at close range, Weiss returned her attention to the sensors, providing quick warnings whenever one of the few surviving Beowolves tried to ambush them. Dealing with the minor threats slowed them down, but they were swiftly dispatched with a single swing of the scythe or a burst of gauss cannon fire. It was still enough to keep the Alpha in the fight, with even the terrible injuries already inflicted rapidly regenerating, the plasma wounds barely slowing it down. Finally, when the last of the small Grimm had sacrificed themselves, Weiss gave the all clear, and Ruby set to work.
The Alpha Beowolf didn't last much longer after that.
“And that's a wrap!” Ruby crowed once Weiss had verified the all clear one last time with her sensors.
“I suppose so,” Weiss said, before pressing a few buttons on her comm controls. “White Rose to Beacon Actual. Dogs put down, returning to base. Over.”
“Was that worth a kiss?” Ruby asked hopefully when she finished.
“Hmm… I don't know,” Weiss said. “You took a long time dealing with that Alpha. Losing your touch?”
“No way!” Ruby shouted. “Did you see how old it was! Besides, I got it in the end.”
“Fine,” Weiss sighed, before leaning over and giving Ruby a long, toe curling kiss. “Sushi time?”
“No! Weiss! Cheeseburgers!”
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hamingo · 4 years
Text
Pirates in the Fallout Universe: Why Pirates are Sexy and Should Be Included in Fallout’s Lore, an Essay By Me
Pirates are sexy in any media, but I think they could be especially sexy in a post-apocalyptic setting, don’t you? So here’s my pitch for Fallout pirates!  Under a read-more cause I got over-excited here
The Pirate Aesthetic:
Their general aesthetic could remain fairly similar. After all, pirates weren’t exactly living in luxury, and their lifestyle I think could transfer really well into the Fallout universe! Of course, the pirate aesthetic differs depending on region, but many stick to the durable coats, light shirts and bare feet of their predecessors, with the captain typically far more embellished to represent their position over the rest of the crew. Some may try to replicate the look of the imaginary pirates of the old-world, but most tend to stick to practicality for life on open water. Of course, most crews will have finer clothing stashed away to change into whenever they go ashore.  This because when a pirate crew comes ashore, they’re probably looking for business.
Making a Living:
Fallout pirates do make a living through thievery and raiding other ships, but sea travel isn’t exactly as common as it was in the old-world. Global trade isn’t exactly as large a priority as it was once upon a time, and so coming across trading ships to raid isn’t exactly as easy as it was for the old-world pirates. To make up for this, pirate crews often take work from people inland, be it mercenary work, transport, or really anything a pirate crew may be needed for.  However, most people don’t want to be caught associating with pirates, or at least, people with reputations to defend don’t. Pirates have a reputation of their own, one that includes them being seen as uncouth scoundrels, but no one can deny that they get a job done.
Ships:
A pirate’s ship is a major source of pride for them. Very few ships are newly made. While it’s not uncommon to have small rowboats and dinghies and such made new, a true pirate’s ship is made from the remains of an old-world vessel, which is then patched up and modified to be able to run again, whether that’s from attaching sails or even grabbing an engineer who can suit them with a decent alternative engine. Most pirates prefer a larger boat because that means room for a larger crew and more comfort and room for loot- but the larger the vessel the more maintenance and modifications to get it running will be needed. The average pirate ship can range from moderately sized trawlers to massive cargo ships, depending on the crew and how good of an engineer they can snag.
Shanties:
And of course, the main reason I wanted pirates- shanties. The lack of original music in Fallout is so upsetting! You really think people just settled for the few working music disks from the old-world and no one recreated instruments??? NO ONE pulled strings tight and plucked them, and then made string instruments??? NO ONE slapped some various boxes around and created percussion???? COME ON!!!!!! Music and art is an intrinsic piece of humanity- you can try to make your world as gritty and grim dark as you want, but the human need for art will always be there, and that means SEXY ASS SEA SHANTIES BABY!!!! They’re similar to the shanties that we know of today, with simple melodies and a strong beat to sing while working. The lyrics would be different to fit the world around them (although the longing for a lover back on land and drunken shenanigans are obviously gonna carry over. Those feelings are eternal). However, one thing that’s more common in Fallout shanties is horror songs. While I firmly believe that instruments exist, most shanties are accompanied by a band of claps, stomps and whistles, which only adds to the far more common theme of horror songs about the dangerous creatures lurking in the depths. A plethora of horror songs are of course due to the state of the world, but more importantly, actual legit sea monsters, which leads me into….
Sea Life:
SEA LIFE OF FALLOUT!!!!! Here’s the thing- sea life is already so absolutely insane??? I am such a slut for BBC sea life documentaries, and it’s??? Crazy???? So yeah, let’s just throw some NUCLEAR RADIATION in that big ol’ soup pot and give it a stir, that’ll leave us with some fun creatures!!! I want DOUBLE THE SIZE!!!!! I want SO MANY EYES AND FINS!!!!! Give me GIANT FISH WITH HEADS POPPING OUT ALL OVER THE PLACE!!!! I want a 250ft long blue whale! Eyeless dolphins with two-inch long sharp teeth! *John Mulaney voice* This might as well happen, sea life is already so goddamn weird!
So! There’s my pitch for pirates in Fallout!! I just think they’re neat :) Also! If anyone has any suggestions or ideas to help fill out this idea more, i would LOVE to hear them!!!
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niqhtlord01 · 5 years
Text
Humans are weird: Super Villains
Humanity’s technological progress had increased steadily at the turn of the 21st century; some even arguing that more advancements were made in various fields within two decades than the last hundred years. That paled however to the first year after first contact with alien species.  Within roughly a year human technology was augmented by other species and skyrocketed to what was once thought of as science fiction. Power cores that could generate enough energy for a hundred story building the size of a lunchbox, cars that could fly with the push of a button, robotic prosthetics that could lift cargo containers, and the piece de resistance, a functional jetpack that didn’t singe your legs or mess up your hair.  The wonders now available and easily affordable allowed numerous human inventors exceed their wildest imaginations. For all the good that came with these new technological marvels, there were those that turned their eyes to darker prospects. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Far from the human core worlds lay the world of Vunus, a prosperous trading world that had become the center of intergalactic trade in the region as it rested on a nexus of three heavily populated systems.  Naturally many of the trading organizations, guilds, and corporations all wanted a stake on the planet to show their wealth and power to not only new clients but also their competitors. The most wealthy of these would base their headquarters on the planet and would house the vast wealth of their enterprise inside their vaults.  One such conglomerate was the Orion Foundation, arguably the most wealthy group on the planet. They had established certain monopoly's for ship building metals, through legal and questionable means. Now if anyone wanted to build a ship bigger than a fishing boat they had to make a deal with Orion, and the deals were always in their favor.  Their headquarters was in the capital city of Vunus, a monolith of polished steel so large that it took up roughly nine city blocks and reached all the way to the stratosphere with antigravity generators held at every other floor to keep the structure from tipping over.  The lobby alone was so richly decorated it was worth the sum of a mining colonies yearly revenue. Adorned with gem encrusted statues from all over the known galaxy, furniture made from the rarest of animals with the softest furs, with tiled floors made from solid ruby.  To a tourist or new client it must have looked like the pinnacle of society, but to Shlivek the front desk concierge it looked like gaudy taste. It may have been because he spent his entire work day looking at it, but to him it appeared as if it was rich people thought wealth looked like, regardless of actual taste.  Day in day out he would watch the same routine of clients walking in to be greeted by specialized handlers and be taken on a tour of the structure before being whisked away to one of the higher floors with a dynamic view of the surrounding area to sign the deal.  As he looked up from his terminal he saw yet another group approaching. Today the lobby was only populated by a few dozen individuals, mostly tourists, and some security personnel standing around the edges of the room. The approaching group navigated between the passing crowds as a representative exited a nearby elevator and went to meet with them.  As they got closer Shilvek began noticing some oddities about this new group. They were all wearing black robes that obscured their appearance. The one in the front was the smallest of the group, but from the manner of their stride and how none of the others outpaced them they were clearly the leader.  As the group approached the representative some of them broke away and began walking in different directions. The representative had reached the group and held out a hand for the leader to shake. The robed figure looked down at the hand then back up at the representative, an awkward silence descending before the representative withdrew their hand.  Shilvek couldn’t hear what they were saying but looking at the face of the company rep he could tell that they were uncomfortable for reasons he did not know. The reps were trained to handle different culture clients, but something in their demeanor made it obvious something was wrong.  As they ushered the group forward to the elevator, Shilvek noticed some of the guards begin moving towards the group. The moment the rep had turned their back to the group things flew into action. The leader shouted something and all of them aside from their leader dropped to the ground. The Short leader grabbed hold of their robe and flung it off their body revealing a strange sight to Shilvek.  The leader was wearing a body glove of intricate triangles with two massive gauntlets on their hands. His head was covered with a strange eyeless helmet with a black screen where the mouth would have been. As the guards began dashing forward to grab them the leader raised a gauntlet and pointed at them.  With a thunderous clap something invisible shot out from the gauntlet, pushing aside furniture and tourists like rag dolls, before hitting the guards. The guards were flung backwards violently and smashed into the gold walls, their bodies slumping to the ground leaving a crimson stain of blood on the wall.  One of the tourists screamed and things moved rapidly from there. The other robed figures threw off their robes revealing similar pattern body gloves with the addition of projectile weaponry. The remaining guards were cut down before they could react as the leader slowly began walking to Shilvek.  Shilvek reached under the counter and hit the panic button. Sirens began blaring and metal grates fell down over all the exits to the lobby sealing the room while a protective shell of reinforced glass fell around Shilvek’s counter.  He saw some of the tourists desperately grabbing the grate now blocking the front door before being dragged away by the armed thugs. All the guards were now dead, but the intruders were trapped in the room and a warning had been automatically sent to the police. Shilvek knew they’d be here in minutes as a private agreement had been set up ensuring their protection first and foremost.  A tap on the protective glass brought Shilvek back to the moment and he looked down to see the strange helmet leader tapping on the glass with their gauntlet. There black screen had a red line that was rising and falling like a wave and Shilvek assumed that this criminal was speaking, but there was no opening for him to hear what he was saying.  The criminal must’ve realized this as they began using hand movements gesturing that they wanted the glass shell to go back into the ceiling. Shilvek shook his head and the criminal once again motioned for it to be retracted. When he shook his head once again the criminal placed the gauntlet flat against the glass and gestured their men to stand back.  Shortly after placing their gauntlet on the glass Shilvek could hear a faint vibration sound growing in intensity. In his horror he saw the glass beginning to crack and break in an ever growing web from the point of contact and with a loud shattering roar the shell quickly crumbled and fell to the floor forcing Shilvek to duck under his desk.  “Much better. It’s hard to have a conversation when neither can hear the other.” Shilvek was cowering under his desk but could hear the voice clearly. It had a strange synthetic tone to it.  “It’s also hard when one party is hiding under a desk. Why don’t you stand up?”  Shilvek didn’t move.  “I just shattered reinforced glass meant to stop plasma rounds with the palm of my hand. You really think a wooden desk would protect you any better?”  At that Shilvek didn’t need anymore prompting and slowly rose.  “Now, why don’t you lift the security lockdown.”  Shilvek looked down at the leader then around at the rest of the lobby. The remaining tourists that had been unable to escape were now all huddled together in a corner and surrounded by armed thugs. The bodies of the guards had been dragged and placed in an opposite corner.  The leader tapped the desk and drew Shilvek’s attention. “It’s rude to look away when someones talking to you. Now, remove the lockdown. I won’t ask again.”  “I-I-I-I can’t do that.” Shilvek stuttered. “Once it’s engaged only the police can remove it.”  The leader craddled their chin with one of their hands and paced back and forth for a bit. They stopped and looked at Shilvek before outstretching a hand.  “It just occured to me that I haven’t introduced myself. You can call be Sound Byte, and you are?” Shilvek unsteadily reached out with his own hand and shooked Sound Byte’s. “Shilvek.” “Shilvek, what an interesting name; rolls off the tongue like a lyric.” Sound Byte remarked as he kept shaking his hand. Shilvek tried to let go but Sound Byte’s hand would not budge.  “Well Shilvek, I must say it’s rather disappointing that you can’t remove the lockdown for me.” “I told you,  I can’-” Sound Byte shook his head. “Oh no, I understand that you can’t do anything for an automated system. It’s just that I’m disappointed that a man such as you with your rhythmic name now no longer has a reason for me to keep you alive.”  Shilvek felt the gauntlet’s  grip dig deeper into his hand. “Tell me, did you know there’s a sound frequency that makes your species blood vessels violently explore like a popped balloon?”  Before Shilvek could utter a word he felt a tremor run through his clenched hand and radiate throughout his entire body. He tried to scream but his throat was now choking on his own blood. He vision became dark but he could see blood dripping from every pore in his body as if he was overflowing with it before he collapsed to the ground.  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sound Byte dialed down the frequency generator and let go of the dead man’s hand. He glanced down at his bloody hand and motioned for one of his henchmen to come forward. The thug quickly trotted over and stood at attention as Sound Byte used their uniform to wipe the blood off his hand.  He was in a bad mood now. He was telling the truth that he had hated killing someone with such a musical name, but the man had brought it upon himself by activating the security lockdown and impeding his robbery.  “Get the data spike setup. You’ve got two minutes.”  The same thug from before hopped over the counter and nudged the dying mans body aside as he inserted a strange device into the terminal as Sound Byte went over to the sealed elevator doors and placed a palm on them.  Golden doors, Sound Byte thought to himself and chuckled. Perfect example for the rich and powerful. Impressive to look at, but shatters if you know where to push. Altering his gauntlet’s frequency he began vibrating the doors until the gold began to fall away in chunks exposing an empty elevator shaft. Rather than attempting to climb up to the security vaults near the mid section of the building, something impossible for the time constraints, he sound blasted the opposite wall in the shaft creating a crater and revealing another elevator shaft.  Unlike the first one which was for clients and office workers, the second shaft was for freight to be carried between floors and was the key to the robbery. The main elevator would lockup during a lockdown, but Sound Byte had learned that the freight elevator, which was far less technical in design, had not such lockup features and was still operable.  Taking half his crew sound Byte jumped into the second shaft and continued with what was to be the greatest crime of the century.  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “We are deeply saddened by the loss of our employees. Here at Orion, our employees are our family and today our family has grown smaller and we will never get over this tragic loss.”  “That was Orion CEO Lusdiv giving a press statement shortly after the unknown criminals fled the Orion headquarters. Authorities are still searching for the wanted criminals as a planet wide alert has gone ou-” Lusdiv turned off the news monitor and took another swig of his drink.    “We will never get over this tragic loss.” He chuckled at his remarks. We’ll have those positions filled by the end of the week. His office sat at the very peak of the Orion headquarters building and as he turned around from behind his desk he saw the sun slowly fading over the horizon setting an end to this day.  While the criminals had been able to reach the vaults, they had only been able to grab hold of a small amount of the vast fortunes stored there before being forced to escape by approaching police forces. In truth the damage done today had already been recouped exactly half a minute after the criminals fled. Such was the income and power of Orion.  Lusdiv shook as his phone rang and startled him. He pushed down on the intercom and contacted his secretary.  “I thought I made it clear I was not to be disturbed.”  The intercom was silent save for the faint hissing of static.  “Volca, I said I made it clear I was not to be disturbed. I’m not taking any calls.” The silence continued.  “Volca, are you there? Volca”  No response. He sighed and finished his drink before picking up the phone.  “This is Lusdiv, CEO of Orion. Who am I speaking with?”  “The man that robbed you.”  Lusdiv pulled the phone away from his head at the sound of the synthetic voice.  Slowly, he pressed the phone back to his ear.  “If this is meant to be some sort of pranks I assure you you will be brought to the authorities and punished.”  “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Don’t believe me, eh? Would you like me to list the contents of your vault boxes we took? I’m sure you already have their records on your desk by now.”  Lusdiv looked down at his desk. There, strewn across it were the files detailing everything that had been taken. Calmly, he activated the security panels of his windows which instantly shut behind him.  “It’s adorable you think your security can still stop me.”  “I have no desire to be spied upon by criminal scum like you is all.” Lusdiv remarked as the shutters clanked shut behind him.  “No need to fret, I’m not watching you.” Sound Byte remarked, “I could hear them closing behind you through the phone. As for the documents, well, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out.” “One which you clearly are not.” Lusdiv retorted, “Otherwise you would have brought the proper gear to break into our more valuable vaults.” He leaned forward over his desk, his hand tightening around the phone. “So listen punk, because I’ll make what happens next very easy for you. I’m going to have you tracked down like a wild animal and brought back to me in chains so I can strangle the very life out of you with my bare han-” Lusdiv’s stopped talking mid conversation. His jaw was twitching up and down but the words would not leave his mouth.  Not just my mouth, Lusdiv thought, I can’t move my entire body!  “I hope I have your attention now,” Sound Byte’s voice came in through the phone still held to Lusdiv’s ear, “because now I will tell you how things will pan out.”  “Your mistake was that you thought we were after your material valuables when really we wanted your more.....questionable, documents.”  “When I arrived I had a data spike planted into your system which has been transmitting your dirty secrets to me this entire time. You were so busy going over the gold, jewels, and other contents of your vaults that none of you thought to check your firewalls.”  Lusdiv’s eyes went wide in horror.  “Imagine if the Vunus government found out how you really obtained Harlod & Co’s mining rights, or what really happened with the Jovian Merger deal. I’m sure the public would find your cave in resolution for miners owed several years worth of back pay after they threatened to unionize most interesting as well.”  Every dirty and illegal deed that had been done to get Orion where it is today ran through Lusdiv’s head and he began to sweat buckets.  “So here’s the deal. I have big plans, plans that will need a considerable investment of funds and materials which you will provide. In exchange these damaging files will stay safe in my pocket, far from prying eyes. I will send you a shopping list for your first set of generous donations to me in the coming days.”  Lusdiv shuddered realizing his blackmailer had left him no way out. He slowly felt the feeling returning to his limbs and he was able to move again.  “Oh, one more thing.” Sound Byte cut in before ending the call.  “If you ever speak to me in that tone again I will vibrate your brain until it drips through your eyes in a grey mush. I can paralyze you with sound even through a phone call, it’s not even a half step up to murder you.”  The line went dead and Lusdiv was finally able to move his limbs freely again. He sat gasping for air as he contemplated what nightmare he had just been dragged into. 
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lisinfleur · 5 years
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Rangsælis - Chapter 02: Day Two
Author’s Notes | Oh boy, things are going mad here... Thank you, Sy (@honestsycrets) for the inspiration!!! Warnings: Do I have to say "Major Character's Death" again? No? THANKS! Lots of blood, triggering A LOT. Stay away from here if you don't like ANGST. Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ubbe x Reader Info | Viking Age AU, inspired by a request from @lol-haha-joke for 5CW4 Words | 3967 ⁑ Warnings: Major Character’s Death, mentions of murder, blood, violence, and death. Caution is recommended: The following content may be triggering. +18
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"Ubbe, you're scaring me. What's wrong? Why are you looking at me this way?"
She was genuinely scared. Genuinely innocent and unaware of what was happening. So, Ubbe could only deduce it was happening to him and himself alone.
But why?
"Ubbe!" She insisted and he lifted his eyes looking at her.
"Someone will try to kill you today."
Something he didn't try last time: he didn't tell her the truth, but the truth only scared her even more.
"What? Ubbe what are you talking about? It was just a nightmare you had; I'm sure things are confused because you just woke up..." she started trying to calm him down.
But the mere attempt to tell him things would be alright just infuriated him even more, causing Ubbe to explode, nervous. His voice sounding full of fear and despair.
"I'm not fucking dreaming! I lived this damn day before twice! Someone will try to kill you and I won't let it happen again!"
Y/N got up, walking towards him, cupping his face, feeling the cold sweat in his skin.
"Husband..." she prepared to say something sweet, but the coldness in his skin scared her even more. "You're sweating cold... What was it that you dreamed about? You're shivering!"
"It wasn't a dream!" he yelled, causing her to pull back, surprised.
Ubbe was never that nervous. Never that desperate. What was wrong with him?
"I saw this day!" he continued, looking at her "I saw what happens, I changed it, and yet, the damn bastard found another way to kill you! Not this time!"
Ubbe moved away from the window just enough to pull the locker in order to block it. His wife's scared and surprised eyes watched as he walked to the door of her room, doing something he never did before into her house.
"SLAVE!"
Ubbe usually didn't call the slaves with screams, but his voice echoed through the whole hallway and soon there was a slave girl in their door.
"Order the others to lock the house and keep the doors shut and you, go to the hall and call my brother Hvitserk. Tell him to cancel the peasant's visitation and come to me as fast as he can! Go!" he shoved the slave girl and she went running to fulfill his orders.
Then, he came in, locking the door of the room, lifting his index towards his wife as soon as she took a breath to speak, not even allowing the words to leave her mouth.
"Don't you even try to tell me about your appointment with the Seer. Fuck it. I'll find a way for you to talk to him, but not today! Definitely not today! Whatever surprise you're preparing for me, it can wait! I won't have you dying in my hands one more time!"
She seemed to be very shocked now.
How did he know about her surprise or even about the appointment with the Wise One? She didn't even tell him she was trying to set one!
Unless... Her face changed into an annoyed expression.
"Are you watching me, husband?" she asked, crossing her arms, really pissed off. "It is Hvitserk, isn't him? You asked your brother to watch my steps and speak about them to you!" she accused, causing Ubbe to sighs frustratedly.
"No!" he warranted, coming near her and holding Y/N by her shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. "Y/N, my love, you say my eyes are windows to my soul and you can always see the truth behind my words through them. Isn't it right?"
"Yes," she said, looking at him kinda confused.
"You also say I'm a terrible liar. Ain't I?" he insisted, increasing the confusion in her eyes.
"Yes, you are, but why are you asking me these things, Ubbe, you're scaring me for real!"
Ubbe leaned his face touching her forehead. His eyes were now facing hers directly.
"Then look into them... See if I'm lying, wife. I lived this day, twice. I saw you strangled to death... I had your blood in my hands... I held you while you were dying. I can't lose you, Y/N. Somehow the gods are allowing me to relive this day one more time, but I don't know how many chances they'll give me. I can't lose you. I just can't."
She felt goosebumps down her spine, cold... He wasn't lying.
Ubbe wasn't lying and she knew that because his eyes weren't able to hide the fear into his heart. And somehow, it touched her...
And she felt her blood freezing into her veins
"Husband," she cried, hiding into his arms.
"Shh," Ubbe embraced her, kissing the top of her head and caressing her back "I'll protect you. I'll find a way, I will. I swear on my armlet I'll find the bastard who's thinking about killing you and I'll warrant he won't see another night!" he promised.
Feeling her arms wrapping around him, tighter.
"I love you," she mumbled, pulling back from his neck just to look at him. "Ubbe, I have something to tell you..."
The surprise.
To think about this made the fear into her eyes become bigger, especially when Ubbe placed his fingers over her lips.
"You shall tell me my surprise when this is over. And we'll make our dinner just like you planned before," he said, but she insisted, taking his hand away from her mouth.
"No, husband, this is important. This situation demands me to tell you what's happening or it could become even more dangerous," she said, looking at him. "Ubbe, I am..."
But her voice was interrupted by the knocks on the room's door and Hvitserk's voice outside, worried.
"Brother? Your slave came to call me. She told me you wanted me to come urgently. What happened?"
Ubbe kissed her forehead and turned himself to open the door, letting Hvitserk in.
"I called you," he said, locking the door once again. "You always trusted me no matter what. You even fell into a frozen lake with me and when we thought we would be dead, somehow the gods made Siggy strong enough to save us both. But even with this catastrophic choice, you always trusted me with your life."
Ubbe's words causing Hvitserk to nod, completely confused.
"What's happening, Ubbe?" he asked, "You're getting me dizzy..."
"I know you'll think I'm crazy, but I lived this day... This is the third time I'm waking up in this morning and I know exactly what will happen today." he started.
And Hvitserk giggled.
"Did you drunk last night and didn't call me to share the mead, brother? What are you talking about?" he asked, pretty dizzy now.
"I'm not drunk, Hvitserk. Someone will try to kill Y/N tonight."
The heavy news causing the smile to vanish from Hvitserk's face.
"I don't know who he is, but someone will try to kill my wife today. I saw it happening. Twice. And this time I won't let that bastard win, but I need your help... I need you to watch over her while I leave to try and find this bastard before he can come for her."
"But Ubbe, how will you find someone you don't know?" Hvitserk asked, worried about his brother's safety.
It was a dangerous thing to leave knowing someone could be wanting to kill him as well.
"I don't know yet, but I have to try, Hvitserk. The problem is: when I change things, he changes as well. This time I must be prepared. Do not open the windows, do not leave this room, no matter what happens, until the end of this day, do not leave Y/N alone. I know I can trust her to your hands."
Hvitserk nodded, looking straight into his brother's eyes.
"You can count on me, brother."
The more his story was unaccountable, Ubbe knew Hvitserk would always be with him to have his back. He touched his forehead with his brother's and kissed his precious wife, cupping her face with his hands.
"I'll see the Seer. I'll find a way into this madness. And when it all ends, I promise, you'll be alive. No matter at what cost."
One more kiss and Ubbe left, hearing when Hvitserk locked the room from inside.
She would be safe this time, he was sure. Even if the murderer was having the same visions he was and knowing his plans or anything, Hvitserk was a hell of a warrior.
Ubbe doubted someone could pass through his brother's rage to reach his precious wife.
Knowing this, he left to the streets already knowing what he would find.
The fish seller, the complaining peasants. Anything had changed except for the pieces he changed on the board.
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Fuck... Maybe he should have played more hnefatafl with Ivar... That damn game would probably help him to think better this time. He didn't doubt his crippled brother would believe him and even help him to find the murderer if Ubbe asked, but first, he went to the Seer's tent for more information. Ivar could help and he knew his brother wouldn't doubt a miraculous story where the gods were helping him somehow. But with the Seer's information, it would be easier even for his brilliant younger brother.
Ubbe's steps went through the stones, climbing up the stairs to the Wise One's tent. As usual, the Ancient already knew about his arrival.
"The spirit of the wolf among the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok... What do you want, Ubbe?" he asked not turning himself from the tasks he was doing, cleaning some animal's fur he was treating, probably for some rituals or offers.
"I'm trapped. I need the way out. Someone is trying to kill my wife. Who is this?" Ubbe asked and the Wise One sighed.
"Loki smiled upon you who's like his son, a wolf... A ring is always a gift," he spoke, enigmatic as always. "But I can see... the horror... Oh, the sadness. Why are you always bringing me back to the sadness?" he turned his eyeless face towards Ubbe, even knowing he couldn’t really see the man in front of him.
"Who is trying to kill my wife, Wise One?" Ubbe insisted, anguished.
But all the Seer did was to come back to his own chair, covering his face with the shaking hands.
"The defeated wants to leave no spoils for the one who won..." his voice started sounding as if he was wandering around, seeing anything that wasn't that room or Ubbe in front of him. "Bare hands are not enough, I see. The embrace of death wants to feel her warmth against his body while it slowly vanishes. It wasn't what he wanted... If only she didn't... No..."
The Ancient started to shake more and Ubbe came closer, dizzy by his enigmas, not really being able to understand what he was saying.
"You're not helping me. I beg you, Wise One, who is him? Who's killing my wife?" he insisted, trying to touch the Seer's hands.
But the creature pulled his wrinkled hands away as soon as Ubbe touched them, looking at his own fingers as if they were bathed in something horrible.
"No... No!" he continued, getting up, walking away from Ubbe, "You left him no choice... Why have you done this? It wasn't supposed to happen... Now there is blood in his hands. Dirty blood... Not this blood! Not again! NO!"
Ubbe's eyes watched as the Seer was shrinking himself against the corner of the room, mourning in a loud and painful moan, repeating sentences as if he was crying so big was the horror his inexistent eyes were showing him. "Change it... Change it... Not this way... Not this way!"
Hopeless, Ubbe left the tent where the Ancient One remained, crying and cradling himself against the wall. But as soon as he stepped outside, the voice of the Seer echoed in a terrible scream so full of pain as Ubbe could remember his own voice echoing at the first time he had his precious Y/N dead in his hands...
"Too soon!!! Too late!! Too late!!"
The words echoing like a chant of despair into Ubbe's chest, racing his heart when the smell of his little brother's hair reached him again like a caress from the wind.
Ubbe thought about calling Ivar. Begging him for help. But his heart guided him back home. He would ask Hvitserk to bring his little brilliant brother there, but he would stay home to protect Y/N by himself. With everything locked, the murderer would have to come and face him!
Everything was supposed to be locked...
But his front door was lying open once again.
Ubbe's throat almost close with the enormous knot that choked him with the sight of that door lightly moving with the wind, not being able to open completely for something was blocking it from inside.
"Gods, please, no," Ubbe begged when his hand pushed the door to find one of his slaves, lifelessly laid in a pool of blood behind the door.
The bastard came earlier...
The son of a bitch knew he left his home and changed his course from the Hall to the Seer's tent.
The motherfucker knew and changed his actions again! But Hvitserk was there, right?
Ubbe unsheathed his sword and went to his room in order to help his little brother. He was sure Hvitserk would be fighting the bastard. Or maybe his little brother had already killed the son of a bitch! The hallway was too silent and his room's door was open.
Strange, it wasn't broken...
It wasn't forced, but someone opened it to whoever came in.
Ubbe went into his room and one more time, his sword slid to the ground, but this time, there wasn't surprise in his blues.
Despair was everything that filled his veins with the blood and he covered his ears, screaming in despair, defeated one more time.
At the bed, his precious Y/N choked to death once again by that damn belt she embroidered for that dress...
Beside the bed, Hvitserk's body and a huge pool of his own blood.
Ubbe came closer to his precious brother, falling to his knees. A wound near Hvitserk's back showing him his brother didn't even have a chance to fight back: he was stabbed and fell. And whoever killed his precious wife, also stabbed Hvitserk's belly multiple times with a short weapon, leaving his beloved brother there, bleeding to death. There were marks on the ground and blood near the door: Hvitserk dragged himself trying to reach the bed. The bloody hand marked on Ubbe's sheets telling him his beloved brother was still alive while the bastard choked his sweet wife to death and even wounded, he tried with everything to prevent her murder.
He had failed again, and this time, things were worse! Horribly worse!
The Seer was right: It wasn't supposed to happen. Hvitserk didn't die in the last times he lived that awful day. But this time, he lost everything.
The bastard seemed to be always one step ahead of him. Always predicting his movements. Always working perfectly on his mistakes, adapting, finding ways to reach his heart, to rip it from his chest despite all his efforts. Despite even the help of the gods.
But was it help?
The Seer said Loki smiled at him...
The words of the Ancient One squeezing his heart even more, causing his voice to echo into the room in a long and painful moan of pain and despair. Embracing Hvitserk's body, ignoring the blood staining his clothes, Ubbe cried one more time, freely this time.
He couldn't handle anymore. He couldn't understand.
"Why?" he asked to no one, speaking as if the gods could hear him. "Why are you doing this to me? Why are you making me see this, live this, again, and again, and again? Why? Did I offend you? What did I do wrong??"
That breeze came from nowhere again, caressing his face with the fresh smell of Sigurd's hair, clenching Ubbe's heart into his chest.
"Is this because I didn't avenge my brother? Is this you, Sigurd, punishing me for my broken promises?"
"I would understand if it was. But you're wrong, son of Ragnar," Sigurd's voice sounded, causing Ubbe to look back at the door to see his dead brother staring at him.
Fear and surprise widened the older one's eyes and a smile cracked on Sigurd's lips when he giggled, almost mocking the expression on Ubbe's face.
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"You should see your face..." he said, extending his hand and shaking it when Ubbe took a breath to speak, preventing him to start his sentences. "Spare the names, I'm not your deceased brother... I just thought you would hear me better this way. Or maybe..."
The image changed in front of Ubbe's eyes and Sigurd's face became older and changed until the wide blues were seeing someone even more unlikely to be in that room. Shivers went down Ubbe's spine when Ragnar's voice reached his ears one more time.
"Like this?" the man in front of him with his father's face smiled and Ubbe got up, even more shocked, causing him to giggle again. "Humans... You worship your gods, pray to them, talk to them. And when one of them answers your prayers, this is how you look like. Would you feel more comfortable if we were silent to your pain, child?"
"Is this... Really happening? Am I mad?" Ubbe asked, stumbling in his words and the man in front of him walked forward, changing again.
"Are your eyes numb, child?" this time it was his father's first wife's voice and Lagertha's image... But when she extended her hands towards him, it changed again, and Aslaug's figure cupped Ubbe's face with the coldness he knew so well from his mother's thin fingers always too affected by the winter's breeze, "Can't you see?"
Her fingers caressed Ubbe's cheeks and she smiled at him before pulling away. Her dress sliding around, her hands near her belly, touching fingers with fingers like he was used to seeing his mom doing when she was wondering. Her eyes looked at him as if she was waiting for him to say something.
And Ubbe's mouth muttered, his lips barely opening, in disbelief.
"Loki..."
She smiled and Ubbe knew he was right. The god of mischief, the lord of the fire, the shape-shifter was walking in front of him, smiling at him as if the worst tragedy of his life wasn't extending itself behind his back in the dead bodies of the ones he loved the most.
"Why have you trapped me this way?" Ubbe's heart found the bravery to question and Loki giggled with his mother's voice. "Is not a joke!" Ubbe insisted, anguished.
"I'm not a joker," Loki answered, serious, causing cold shivers on Ubbe's spine once again. "I may be a trickster, but my actions aren't unfounded. Someone is messing with fate." he started walking through the room until reaching Y/N's body at the bed, caressing her face softly. "And fate is becoming unfair... Odin's favor is against you, so I thought it would be fun to balance the scale."
Odin's favor... His opponent was smart, Ubbe had to admit. The intelligence was something the bastard had undeniably, adapting his plans whenever something changed and always reaching the final goal despite Ubbe's efforts to prevent him. But Loki wasn't really helping, right?
Ubbe heard the god sighing in one of those bothered sighs from his mother's irony. The god could hear his thoughts, of course.
"You know... Odin is not killing your wife for him. We won't change the world in your favor while you sit and watch our work, child. Do not confuse us with the Christian God you wanted to follow once. We don't want lazy sheep. The cattle are there to be slaughtered. I gave you a chance such as Odin gave him a chance. My father blessed his mind... I locked you in time." Loki said, opening his hands and showing him a smile. "None of these things really happened... Yet."
"What do you mean?" Ubbe asked, surprised. "Am I locked in the future? Is that it?"
"Almost, smart ass," the god said, getting up and walking towards Ubbe one more time, "Once you said your life would be easier if you had the Seer's eyes... I gave you them. I gave you more... You're locked in one of my puzzles and it will repeat, again and again, until you find the way out."
"Until I save her..." Ubbe mumbled looking at his wife.
But Loki rolled his mother's eyes.
"She's not the key. She's just a consequence. Just like him... Oh, poor puppy, following you wherever you go," he said, lowering the female body, staining Aslaug's dress in Hvitserk's blood on the ground to touch the dead body's face, "Poor child. Just another victim, like many others..."
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The god got up and his face changed, his body changed and so, it was Sigurd again, walking towards Ubbe to look him into his eyes. The snake in his eye, moving as if Fafnir was alive in his brother's eye through Loki's powers.
"Find your way out, wolf. Your wife's life is nothing, just another pawn in his game. How many pawns will you lose? How many can you save?"
The god turned away, starting to walk towards the door and Ubbe's heart filled with despair one more time.
"I can't see anything! I'm not like him! As you said, Odin's wisdom is his, not mine! I can't see anything!" Ubbe insisted and the god looked at him one more time, smiling.
"When there is nothing you can do... Well... then do nothing," he said, with one of those sweet smiles in Sigurd's face, confusing Ubbe's mind even more. "Sometimes nothing is the answer, Ubbe Ragnarsson. Sometimes is just... Nothing."
After the last word said, Ubbe saw Loki's fingers lifting up and touching his forehead, pushing him back gently. But the gentle push became a long fall and there was no ground for him to land.
He felt like falling from an abyss, a long and endless abyss. But when his body finally landed, it was a childish bed his mind found.
Choked sounds.
His baby brother was at the crib once again, choking with his blankets. And one more time his older hands pulled the thing away from him.
Childish cries.
His mother's tears.
Sigurd's hair against his face.
That smell...
"Good morning, big boy. Time to wake up..."
His precious Y/N's voice. Her warm hands.
This time Ubbe pulled her into his embrace and held her, tight.
It was starting over and he couldn't think about what to do. He couldn't see anything.
Any way out.
Anything but pain, loss, and despair.
He felt her warm body embracing him back and her soft breath against his neck.
"Hnm... If it wasn't so hard to find a time with the Seer nowadays, I would want to stay and make love to you this whole morning," she mumbled, feeling his embrace becoming strangely tighter.
He kissed the top of her head and hid his face against her neck. But she became worried when something wetted her skin.
"Ubbe?"
He didn't answer. His tears just dropping one after another against her neck and his embrace around her was now completely locking her body against his.
"Ubbe what happened?" she asked, embracing him, trying to comfort something she didn't even know what it was.
"I had a nightmare... I had the worst nightmare of my whole life," his voice answered, hoarse.
He had a terrible nightmare.
He was still having.
And in his mind...
 There was nothing he could do to stop it.
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cyberneticlagomorph · 5 years
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>Cyberneticlagomorph is live on Caster! 🔴
>Jack  is back at it again at his ranch in space, his breath fogging in the freezing cold, thin air as he floats around almost aimlessly. The dusty, kelp-grass covered ground beneath him is sprinkled with tools, seedlings, bags of seeds, and his little glowing sunfire friend.
>the chat is filling fast with familiar faces, each excited about space. There’s Paramore playing instead of normal High Wilderness ambiance
>a few giddy newcomers spam the chat with questions
>”zippitydoodumbass: wtf is this? like where is he?”
>”fee-fi-fuck-off: YOOOO IS HE IN SPACE??? HOW IS HE IN SPACE HOW IS HE BREATHING?? IS HE AN ELF?? AN ALIEN?? WTF??”
> apatheticInfinity donates 420 bytes and asks Jack to do a flip, which he does while answering the numerous questions and loudly contemplating adding a FAQ to his stream description
>”Hello i’m Jack, today we’re out in space, specifically we’re in the High Wilderness, which is space but in an entirely different timeline than the one I live in.”
>As he lazily does a flip in zero gravity the chat floods with even more questions asking how he can cross timelines
>”The High Wilderness has air, it’s just thin as all fuck, and colder than the sad empty void my ex calls her heart. I can hop timelines ‘cuz magic. Many of my friends are from other timelines, this stream is broadcasting to other timelines actually, I’m very thorough.”
>He does a very wiggly, complex maneuver that puts him back on the ground. You can see where he is now, see everything from the first person perspective of whatever camera he’s using to stream. Likely his cybernetic eye.
>The place is beautiful and strange, so very strange.
>he’s definitely in space, some dinky little planetoid covered in odd plants that sway like seaweed and kelp, strange sail-like trees with tiny black leaves like moss against the trunk. Harsh howling winds blow across their numerous hollows and produce a haunting flute-like sound
>far away, in the star-speckled void, are vibrantly hued dust clouds and nebulae, and the dark dusty band of a nearby asteroid field.
>something bright and glowing gold scampers up to him, speaking a language that hurts to hear. The stream glitches and flickers for a second before a very cute graphic of jack tangled up in computer wires comes up, proclaiming technical difficulties. It doesn’t last long before the stream comes back and the strange language the little glowing creature was speaking is wholly understandable. This language is Correspondence, it doesn’t so much as translate clearly into words as it does notions, feelings, and concepts that one can both hear and feel
>”Hullo friend, star friend, feeder friend, soulless and sweet. Will you furrow the earth today? sail the stars today? challenge gods today? I’m hungry... your boat came.” its voice is without gender but is high like a child’s, it looks something like a very small star, something like a clump of souls, and something like a cat or a monkey. It floats effortlessly through the thin air to nuzzle Jack’s face with it’s flame-haloed head. Jack scratches it behind what might be ears, or what might be gills. It’s very hard to tell what does what on something so strange.
>Jack says something back to it that suggests affection and warmth on the tail end of a gentle scolding. The little glowing thing pulsates like a beating heart and perches on Jack’s shoulders. The chat is filled with ‘awws’ and ‘dawws’ and further questioning as to who/what the fuck that thing is
>”This is Glimmer, a ‘judgements heart’, i picked them up during my last trip here. They’re sweet and warm and I love them. Say hi Glim”
>Glimmer says hi back and Jack grabs a garden hoe off the ground.
>”Today’s itinerary is getting these seeds in the ground and then going hunting the the asteroid field out yonder.” He jerks a thumb towards the dusty gray line in the distance. Glimmer is singing to themself, a strange nonsensical song about dirt and wells and things that write poems for worms. Glim isn’t of much help as Jack tills the soil and plants strange seeds of all different shapes and sizes. He buries bulbs and roots, blankets odd black tumors with mulch, and transplants long creeping things with long hollow ‘leaves’ that thrum like violin strings whenever the wind blows.
>Jack doesn’t explain anything about the plants and seeds, only that they’re a surprise for later. His final act of botany is to plant a number of rose bushes and berry brambles around the base of the Ranch house, along with some other things that look like they’d climb just as eagerly.
>Gardening in space is much harder than it sounds considering everything wants to float away when you're not looking, but he sticks to his task and gets it done just in time for the door to his ranch house to open and reveal a tall, beautiful woman in red. Her long white hair kisses the back of her ankles, blowing elegantly in the wind as she seems to glide up to him. Her silver eyes glint with the same gentle affection that tugs the corners of her mouth up into the barest ghost of a smile. Other than that she's stonefaced and a little mean looking, like she'd cut you if you breathed at her wrong.
>The chat breaks out in heart eyes emojis and shouts of "WIFE", Jack is purring, a sweet whirring-rumble like an old school computer. He greets this woman with a soft, dreamy hello and a half-assed warning that he's streaming this live
>"Don't you fret lapin, I know how to behave." Her voice is sultry, almost mockingly so as she leans in to kiss him only to pull away before their lips can meet, and the chat howls that she's a tease. She introduces herself to the chat as Jeanne. She is one of Jack's fabled two wives and by god is she beautiful, ethereal, terrifying. She seems more fae than he does somehow, every move she makes is artwork, and the world is her canvas. The Caster chat is suddenly a sea of [message deleted] as some of the less... tactful comments about Jeanne removed at Jack's discretion. Everyone is warned to keep it in their pants or else he can and will curse them over the internet.
>That stops everyone cold. Quietly wondering if he is that powerful. He likely isn't but someone who can marry THAT and also afford a ranch in fucking SPACE is obviously not to be fucked with. So the chat settles down like a pack of scolded school children. Jack leaves Jeanne to linger in the fields, while he circles back behind the barn to wash off at least some of the dirt he is now caked in.
>You'd expect a well in such a rural setting, but no, instead there is something like a bastard cross between a normal stone well and a gas pump with a windmill strapped to its back end. Empty canisters litter the ground around it, some rusted, some new, all of them painted a ghastly florescent yellow that makes them easier to see among the dark foliage. Jack asks the chat to watch before he takes the pump and squeezes it into empty air. Fat globs of water, like shimmering soap bubbles, flow from the nozzle trembling and steaming in the cold cold air.
>He sticks his hands into it, giggling like a dork. He manages to get most of the dirt off before the glob evaporates or freezes... honestly it's hard to tell just exactly what happens to it after awhile. Mostly cleaned, he makes his way back to join Jeanne but is interrupted by a great scarred calamity of a Curator, shrieking about hunting, singing shrill songs about teal eyes, North, and meat.
>Jack explains to the confused chat, that this is Mr Veils, an associate of his. Veils is a Curator, a giant starry furred horned space bat native to the High Wilderness that drift about hoarding things, and selling said things to other species they come across. Most are nicknamed after their hoards. Mr Veils deals in fine fabrics... usually. But today Veils couldn't give a damn about buying or selling, it just wants to hunt.
>The chat is entranced really. Jack stows the last of the gardening tools in the barn before pointing towards the asteroid fields and asking Veils to meet him there. Veils flies off with a joyous cry and a thick layer of foam coating its lips. He watches the quickly shrinking dot that is Veils grow ever smaller before turning to Jeanne.
>"Race you." He says, sounding a little cocky. She merely lifts an eyebrow before leaping into the air, a pair of gorgeous moth's wings appearing at her back as she swoops away in the direction Veils went. Jack, along with the chat, shouts that she's cheating to which she replies
>"Since when has any witch ever played fair, lapin?" you can hear the smile in her voice, even over the wind as Jack shifts into something winged and powerful, flying right after her. He loses of course, landing grumpily on a large asteroid at the edge of the field, Glimmer still clinging stubbornly to his shoulder.
>From afar it looked barren, maybe even mournful, but up close it is lush, and wild, and strange, oh so very strange. Each and every chunk of pitted stone is alive with plants. Strange swaying things that look more at home at the bottom of the sea than space. Translucent, sail-like things, strange whistling trees, even stranger bushes and undergrowth that retreat into hollows in the rocks when disturbed. Each and every 'plant' clings stubbornly to the stones with armored roots. What isn't stone, or plant, is ore and ice glowing with what little light can be found here.
>Some ores are recognizable, others are impossible colors and textures that ooze when Jack touches them, or slither and shift. There are gems stuck in the stones as careless as sprinkles on a cupcake. There are animals here too, as equally strange as their surroundings. Eyeless deer leaping from stone to stone, scaly rabbits with tough hides to protect against the pebbles and grit blowing in one the winds, geese-like things with segmented necks and pincers like bobbit worms drag anything that scampers too close shrieking into the darkness of their burrows.
>There are birds and fish, massive crabs, strange mantas, jellies, cat-faced harpies, all bounding though the waving grasses and cavern mazes. Spider-legged beasts lap at exposed patches of ice, or gnaw lazily on transparent lichens.
>Jack is overcome with awe that is quickly replaced by annoyance as Veils swoops low and plucks some hapless beast off a rock and into the sky, the animal bellowing in fear. He remembers that he is here to hunt, not sight-see, and his entire demeanor changes. His body drops low, his movements suddenly fluid and catlike, but it's somehow clear that he hasn't changed shape again. This is all him.
>He slinks off like an animal, picking across the ground on all fours with surprising ease, as if  he were born out here. The chat keeps making 'dummy thicc' jokes
>"inutechy: hrn colonel, I'm trying to hunt, but I'm dummy thicc and the clap of my ass cheeks keeps alerting my prey."
>Jack is far too focused on the eyeless deer thing in front of him to be amused. His normal tactics won't work here, so he has to be fast and brutal. Just as he prepares to strike, the beast is shot cleanly and he just sort of sits there, dumbfounded.
>"Too slow." Taunts Jeanne as she flits off to do more damage elsewhere, gun still smoking. Jack scowls at her retreating back before slithering off to find more prey. Between Jeanne and Veils and his overall unfamiliarity with this place, Jack has a tough time catching anything, but manages to snag a few not-rabbits ("cannibalism" proclaimed the chat), and the evil geese-worms ("cursed. Thanks I hate it" whined the chat).
>Amid the gunfire and Veils... everything, another curator descends upon the scene. Much chubbier than Veils, with small folded ears, and a very stony expression. Its holding a much much smaller Curator with long rabbitlike ears and horns similar to Jack's antlers.
>Jack drops everything (mostly a half dead... something his teeth were in) to go and greet the pair of them. As he gets closer it's clear to all that even though the smaller bunny-like Curator is obviously a baby, that she is nearly the size of an average human adult. Curators are absurdly huge but Jack doesn't seem to mind. He greets them both with kisses and hugs, introducing them to the stream as Mr Stones and Galena. Galena is the obvious offspring of Jack and Stones, several people make rude remarks about Jack's apparent sluttiness and get banned on the SPOT. Stones wraps a wing around Jack and licks his face.
>Veils sings taunts from high on the winds, betting Stones that it can't out-hunt it this night. Stones merely huffs and tells Galena "Watch and learn." Before hauling its powerful body into the cold sky. What happens next is nothing short of amazing and a little humiliating on Veils end. Stones sails through the asteroids with grace and speed, plucking bobbit geese from their holes with practiced ease, fleeing scalebuns run right into its opened jaws and blind deer meet their ends before Stones even hauls their bodies off the ground.
>It's anything but gory, it's clean, efficient, magnificent and Jack just sort o f stands there, watching. It's clear he's given up on catching anything else tonight, so he might as well sit back and learn from a master. Galena watches too, babbling excitedly in Correspondence, flapping her leathery wings. Soon the fun is over and everyone is dragging their numerous kills into piles to further show off their prowess.
>And then a curious thing starts to happen. The Curators start to sing. Well, Veils sings, Stones raps surprisingly well with its monotone voice. Both spit lyrical disses tearing each other's hunting skills apart line by line. It's beautiful, it's BRUTAL. Jack mentions that normally he'd join in but with a pile as small as his it'd be a fools errand, but somehow he gets drawn into it anyway. His melodies swoop high, combined with echoing tones produced by glittering crystal shards made by his magic. As he predicted he gets lyrically evicerated by the others. Even Jeanne gets in on it, her voice is as pretty as the reset of her and She Does Not mince words.
>By the end everyone is grinning, packing up their kills to take home. Jack carries both his AND Jeanne's catches in his chest space, leaving the chat to wonder just how much room he has in that thing. Stones gives Jack a few parting licks before scooping up Galena and heading back to the ranch house, Veils leaves with something small and fluffy clenched in its teeth.
>The stream ends with Jack trying to tetris everything he and his wife have caught into his concerningly large meat freezers. He promises an update on the plants soon and signs off by blowing a kiss to himself, and therefor the stream in a bathroom mirror.
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verritytorres · 6 years
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post tbk depression - unfinished mini fics
“At least we’re going to die together,” Aaron said. Each word was like a knife, cutting deeper and deeper in his chest. His small, sad smile was the final blow.
“Bullshit,” Call hissed at him with a conviction he didn’t have before. He squeezed their laced fingers. “You’re getting out of this alive—”
A blast of heat interrupted him. Tamara flung a fireball at Alex, her face contorted with righteous fury. Alex scowled and flung out his hand, using his air magic specialty to throw the fire right at the boys. Call barely ducked in time, grabbing Aaron’s shirt and pulling him down.
The masked man holding Call screamed as Tamara’s fire ate at his shirt. He let go of Call and he jumped away, wincing at his leg. He yanked Aaron away with him, and the blond boy staggered to his feet.
“Havoc, get him!” Tamara screamed, summoning another fireball.
Havoc’s snarl echoed throughout the abandoned village and he launched himself at Alex. Aaron tried to take away his hand—to fight back, no doubt—but Call tightened his fingers, holding him in place.
“No heroics,” Call said, pinning Aaron in place with his blazing eyes. He opened his mouth to say something else, but a blinding light interrupted him.
Call and Aaron whipped their heads at Alex, horror striking their hearts when they saw the metal of the Alkahest glowing with power. Alex raised his arm, his face alight with cruel victory.
It’s been two years.
It’s gotten to the point where everyone doubts you. Hell, they probably even doubt your mental state. You’ve gone on endless rants about how “—I can feel him, Tamara, I can’t explain it, but he’s there—“, her warm brown eyes filling with fucking pity, and her soft voice telling you for the umpteenth time that Aaron was dead; his soul was taken by Alex Strike; that there’s no way for him to come back, even under normal circumstances. But you resent that.
First of all—and you hate yourself for thinking this, she’s your best friend, for fuck’s sake, and the only one available at the moment—who’s she to say what’s up with souls? She’s not a Makar. Sure, she’s read all the books about it, but she’s never known what souls look like—what his soul looked like. A thousand colors at once. It was warm on the outside, caring, kind, the Aaron everyone knew and loved; but you saw something else, too. Something that somehow, you can’t really explain—that seems to be a prominent issue with all this Makar-void-soul business—but it sure explained his occasional bouts of aggression.
Second—and this might come as a surprise to people—you’ve read the counterweight theories. You’re not completely hopeless in class. You know your shit. And in every reading about counterweights that Rufus assigned to you and Aaron, it always said: The Makar and their counterweight’s souls are forever linked. So if that “link”, or whatever, was severed, you of all people would know. You would stop feeling that rubber band. You would stop feeling these flashes of phantom pain. You wouldn’t feel anything at all, just a gaping hole you can never fill. Besides, when a Makar dies, they take their counterweight down with them; that’s a known fact. That’s why Aaron didn’t want you as his counterweight at first, remember? He was so worried you’d die. But you decided to do it anyway, and now he’s gone.
But you’re still here. Why are you still here?
Why are you still alive if he’s not?
Simple. He’s not fucking dead.
Tamara says differently. Rufus says differently. Alastair says differently. The whole fucking World of Mages says differently, with their memorial statues and grand funeral (with no body to speak of, by the way.) Your own brain says differently. It plagues you at night with constant replays of that fucking beam, of Alex’s cruel expression, of his hand in yours. Aaron blames you for it every night in your dreams.
(You don’t get much sleep these days.)
It’s been two years, and you still think he’s alive, somewhere, somehow.
But now you’re on your way to his grave with flowers.
The fallen leaves crunch under your boots. The winter chill came early this year, biting your face in sudden gusts. Students are already wearing their warmer uniforms. Yours is red this year, and your wrist glistens with gold. It was supposed to be your senior year—all three of you, finishing school with a flourish. The plan just doesn’t work with two.
His tomb is a bit extravagant for his taste, you think. Aaron wouldn’t want a statue of him like Verity. “I didn’t earn it,” he’d say. He’d want a small modest little stone, engraved with his name, the dates, and if he died honorably or otherwise. But the Assembly insisted on a big memorial near the Mission Gate with a plaque underneath.
You don’t really like it. The sculptor got his nose wrong.
The platform by Fake-Aaron’s feet is littered with dead flowers. A rumor went around that leaving a little token by Aaron would give you good luck on your mission. Even the Gold Years did it sometimes. And you can agree that Aaron always did project good vibes.
You gently set your small bouquet next to his left foot. It’s a bit miserable—colorless bluebells, pink lilacs, and a weird purplish one Tamara called “hyacinth”—but you grew it yourself. Gold Years learn to use earth magic to cultivate things at speed. Aaron would have loved it; he always did appreciate earth magic right after chaos.
You take a deep breath and whisper, “Aaron.” A gust of wind buffets your face, and you pull up the hood of your coat, shivering slightly. “I—I know you’re out there. I don’t know how I know, but I…” You open your mouth to say more, but the words catch in your throat. You swallow thickly. “At this point, I might just be imagining it. I’m sure everyone thinks that. So please—please—if you can hear me, tell me. Send a counterweight sign or whatever. Just—show me.”
Something rustles behind you. You whip around and stare wildly around because holy shit, what if he actually heard you, is that him, finally—
But there’s nothing there. You wait a few minutes more, eyes and ears peeled for something, anything.
Nothing. It was the wind.
It’s been two years.
You start to think he might not come back after all.
Master North had gone on a long spiel about the untrained Makars—or Makar, as of late—being a danger to the whole school; Alma kept trying to convince everyone of her outrageous conspiracy theory. Rufus was exhausted, both mentally and physically. He had spent most of this meeting loudly and vehemently protesting everything his students were being subjected to.
When the mages arrived at the Order village, Callum had been immediately clapped in irons and sent to the Panopticon, no questions asked. Tamara had been ushered away and locked in her dorm with the Chaos-ridden wolf, isolated from all contact, but at least she was safe. Rufus’ main argument throughout this arduous meeting was Callum’s ordeal. He was a child, for God’s sake. He may be the Makar, but he means no harm, and he certainly did not kill Aaron. And he most definitely is not the Enemy of Death. Rufus, of all people, would know.
As soon as the Masters’ meeting was dismissed, Rufus all but ran out of the room. He couldn’t manage to bust Callum out of prison right now, Master North made sure of that. But he had time. He would pull strings in the Assembly, anything to get the boy out. But right now, something else was on his mind.
“It’s history repeating itself!” Alma had screeched. “Constantine Madden had killed his counterweight too—“
“A terrible accident,” Master Milagros said coldly. She didn’t like Alma.
“Maybe, but it was his fault nonetheless! When counterweights die, Makars are weakened but not killed. Makars, though—when Makars die, they take their counterweight down with them. Does anyone remember Verity Torres?” Alma waited half a second before continuing, “She was murdered, and her counterweight fell dead on the spot at the exact moment. So tell me, peers,” Alma stared around the room, her eyes piercing daggers at every Master, “why is Callum Hunt not dead?”
Alma was raving mad during most of her speech, but she had a point there. Something wasn’t right.
As he hurried down the halls, Rufus noticed everything was quiet. Usually the cavernous halls of the school echoes with laughter and the sounds of elementals and magic, but all he could hear now was the occasional drip of water and the swift pattering of his own feet.
He got to the small docks where the small boats let into the underground river system. Rufus swiftly stepped onto one and didn’t bother sitting down. He closed his eyes and focused his thoughts on the water, feeling its need to flow, and willed it to take him to his office. The water happily complied, and Rufus sped down the river.
Rufus took the few minutes he had to organize his thoughts. [hackshshd]
 He would have to look at Aaron to be sure. Rufus flicked his fingers and created a small air-phone in front of him. Master Amaranth appeared, feeding eyeless fish to her python. She didn’t notice him until he said her name.
Amaranth jumped, clutching her heart. “Rufus! Don’t scare me like that, how many times do I have to—“
“I’m sorry, Amaranth,” Rufus inclined his head. “But I have an urgent request.”
Amaranth sighed and wrapped her snake around her neck. “Well?”
Rufus made an effort to make his face look grief-stricken. It wasn’t hard. “I’d like to see Aaron.”
Master Amaranth was silent. Rufus wasn’t known in the Magisterium for being emotional. His tragic backstory was well known throughout the school—a Devoured Master, his first apprentice group dead or ostracized, his second going on that same path—but so was his seeming apathy. William Rufus showing emotion was as rare as two Makars in a generation.
“Okay,” Amaranth said. “They put him in the infirmary. You have five minutes.”
Rufus thanked her and changed the boat’s course.
   It was summer again. Call lay on the grass, basking in the sun. And Aaron was with him, their palms together, their fingers loosely laced, and everything felt right.
Aaron squeezed their hands a little. Call turned his head to look at him, smiling softly. But Aaron wasn’t looking back at him. He kept staring at the sky.
“Hey,” said Call. “You okay?”
Aaron didn’t respond. Call propped himself up on his elbow to take a closer look at him. Aaron’s green eyes were glassy and dull.
“Aaron!” Call jostled his shoulder but Aaron still didn’t look at him. “Aaron, answer me—“
Aaron shot up abruptly, gripping Call’s throat with a vengeance. Call scrabbled at his fist, but only felt metal, and suddenly Call was back at the Order village. Aaron’s face melted into Alex’s and he said in a voice far too sinister for a sixteen year-old boy, “Power.” Light flooded out of the Alkahest and burned like hell, and Call was thrown back. Aaron lay there beside him again, but he wasn’t there, and Aaron’s hand was cold, Aaron wasn’t breathing, Aaron was gone—
 Call has always been the kind of person that knew when he was dreaming and when he wasn’t. He knew he was dreaming when Master Joseph came to him and splashed snow on his face. He knew he was awake when he saw Aaron die.
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preservationandruin · 7 years
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Oathbringer Liveblog, Part Four: Chapters 88-92
Part Four: Defy! Sing Beginnings! 
Interesting. Both in this and the prior title, we get what almost sounds like part of a poem. There’s a massive, massive list of POVs here: Adolin, Shallan, Kaladin, Dalinar, Navani, Szeth, Taravangian, and Venli. Hoo boy. 
A group of our heroes are on a very strange road trip, and we touch in with Szeth and his sword, who is sulking. 
Another flashback, this time to eight years ago. He’s still...not over the Rift. Obviously. You never get over something like that. When he just looks at people, this happens: 
He saw fires reflected in their eyes, and heard the weeping of children in the back of his mind.  Don’t be weak, Dalinar thought. It’s been almost three years.  Three years, living with what he’d done. Three years, wasting away in Kholinar. He’d assumed it would get better.  It was only getting worse. 
Sadeas managed to fucking pull a spin job on them putting a town to the torch by saying the fire itself had been an accident and their hands had been forced due to the “killing of Dalinar’s wife.” 
Bullshit. But it worked--the message here is that Gavilar doesn’t want to send Dalinar on missions, because who knows what could happen? Nobody wants that. So everyone will go out of their way to give Gavilar any option that is not fighting. 
So efficient. All it had cost was one city. And possibly Dalinar’s sanity. 
Here we were thinking that Gavilar’s death was what broke Dalinar--and it did, in part, but he’d also broken long,  long ago. Dalinar can’t stand to be in the same room as fire anymore. He can’t stay in his own keep anymore. 
Renarin is burning incense in their rooms--the same scent Evi liked. I’ll bet this is Renarin’s way of mourning, but...I can’t imagine that Dalinar will take that well. Dal, if you’re shitty to Renarin at all I will find a way to go back in time and manifest in the cosmere and kick your ass. 
He can’t find any wine--he thinks Gavilar may have moved it, although he says he only drinks “on bad days.” I...doubt that. I’ve literally heard the excuses of alcoholics, and that’s one of the main ones. 
He can’t even really interact with Adolin. Adolin says he has a duel set up, he’s fifteen and cheerful and thrilled and: 
Emotions warred inside of Dalinar. Memories of good years spent with his son in Jah Keved, riding or teaching him the sword.  Memories of her. The woman from whom Adolin had inherited that blond hair and that smile. So genuine. Dalinar wouldn’t trade Adolin’s sincerity for a hundred soldiers in proper uniforms. But he also couldn’t face it right now.
So he admonishes Adolin for not acting like a proper soldier. Because he wanted to be excited at his dad about getting a duel set up. Because he wanted Dalinar to be proud of him. 
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There’s a beggar on the beggar’s porch called Ahu, a strange man who always has a bottle. Dalinar goes to find him; he calls Dalinar “little child.” And he’s ethnically strange, too dark to be Alethi. 
...DID DALINAR GO GET WASTED WITH ONE OF THE HERALDS ON THE REGULAR?????
“How are the voices?”  “Soft, today. They chant about ripping me apart. Eating my flesh. Drinking my blood.” 
DALINAR ABSOLUTELY GOT WASTED ON THE REGULAR WITH ONE OF THE HERALDS. JESUS CHRIST. 
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“Which one got to you, child? The Black Fisher? The Spawning Mother, the Faceless? Moelach is close. I can hear his wheezing, his scratching, his scraping at time like a rat breaking through walls.”  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  “Madness,” Ahu said, then giggled. “I used to think it wasn’t my fault. But you know, we can’t escape what we did? We let them in. We attracted them, befriended them, took them out to dance and courted them. It is our fault. You open yourself to it, and you pay the price. They ripped my brain out and made it dance! I watched.” 
Yeah. Definitely a Herald, talking about the unmade, talking about how humans draw them to them, about how you have to let them in, just like you have to let the Voidbringers out. They wait for you to be vulnerable, and they make you vulnerable, and then they take and take and take. 
And he gets back and hears Adolin talking to Gavilar about how worried he is about Dalinar. Oh, that’s heartbreaking. Elhokar is there too--Dalinar is surprised that Elhokar isn’t a child anymore. He calls Dalinar a drunken fool, and we get that Gavilar didn’t remove the wine--Dalinar already drank it all. 
Adolin snaps at Elhokar; Gavilar has to calm them down, assuring them that Dalinar will fight through it. Dalinar goes to ignore them, collapsing on the nearest couch. 
We get a bit of a map of “the sea of lost lights,” which I’ll bet is another name for Shadesmar. Unclear whose it is, but it has notes in it like “I hate this lake” and “I managed to ride a manda from here to there so you owe me money” so like, could be Nazh, could be Wit, could be another shithead worldhopper. 
An Adolin viewpoint, and epigraphs here are from the Mythica, the book on the Unmade. I’m so glad we’re getting good information on them. 
Adolin is like 99% sure he’s in Damnation, which, no, but you could get there from here, I’m pretty sure Braize can be accessed from Shadesmar it’s only like one planet over. 
Adolin tries to summon his Shardblade and the spren with scratched-out eyes screeches at him, pretty much confirming my hunch about who it is. It’s his sword’s spren, isn’t it. 
“That is your sword,” Pattern said in a perky voice. He had no mouth that Adolin could see. “Hmmmm. She is quite dead. I don’t think you can summon her here.”
God, Pattern must be so unnerving to Adolin. Hi here’s this vaguely eldritch-looking creature with no visible face. He’s always chipper and thinks you’re nice and, although you don’t know it, was considering marrying you for a moment. 
The fact that Pattern got excited about that line still kills me. 
They try to get Kaladin to do something and Syl is just standing by him, a hand protectively on his back, going “Kaladin’s not well.” She’s trying so hard to protect him. I love Kaladin and Syl. 
Anyway, a giant claw shoots up out of the sea of beads--the physical form of the Unmade. Yike. 
More emerged in other directions. An enormous hand was reaching slowly upward through the glass beads. Deep beneath them a heartbeat began sounding, rattling the beads. 
Adolin, still understandably freaked-out, stumbles and comes face-to-face with the eyeless spren of his sword again. He is very, very sure he’s in hell right now. 
We cut over to Shallan, the only one there with the surge of Soulcasting and thus the one most likely to get them a boat. Unfortunately, Pattern says that soulcasting something here might not actually work. She manages to use a shield’s bead to make a solid replica of it out of stormlight and beads--one that Pattern can jump up and down on without sinking. 
“You,  sword lady!” Shallan said,  pointing at Azure. “Help me over here. Adolin, you too. Kaladin, see if you can brood this place into submission.” 
Shallan is repressing pretty much everything again, focusing on the task at hand. She finds souls--spren of swords, who feel that they’ve failed if their owners have fallen. For a moment, she finds Drehy the bridgeman, panicking--but he’ll have to find his way through alone. She manages to make a copy of the Oathgate control building, letting them climb onto its roof. She basically uses a door and a building to make progressive stepping-stones, letting them get to the river. 
So the Oathgate in Kholinar is corrupted, but it looks like Sja-anat succeeded in trying not to kill them. They didn’t end up in a great place, but they’re alive. Meanwhile, Adolin is feeling useless--understandably. But he helps Kaladin move along. 
“Hey,” Adolin said. “It will be alright.”  “I survived Bridge Four,” Kaladin growled. “I’m strong enough to survive this.”  “I’m pretty sure you could survive anything. Storms, bridgeboy, the Almighty used some of the same stuff he put in Shardblades when he made you.” 
That is simultaneously the most heartwarming and most badass compliment i have ever heard. 
Adolin keeps talking to Kaladin--Kaladin snaps and asks why, and Adolin admits that he talks when he’s frightened. Adolin works to keep Kaladin talking and keep him moving, though, which is good. Kal’s in shock right now. He needs something to keep him going and hey--out of the lot of them there, Adolin’s the one who’s best at empathy and intuition. 
Azure followed, her shoulders sagging. In fact, her...her hair was fading. It was the strangest thing; Adolin watched it dim from Alethi jet-black to a faint grey as she sat down. Must be another effect of this strange place. 
Nope, that’s just that’s she’s Vivenna. 
Also, although Adolin is saying that he’s useless,  he’s the one insisting that they camp because Azure, Shallan, and Kaladin are all exhausted. He finds a good place, he gets them to move and set up. He’s...he’s good at this. I love Adolin. 
Adolin: I’m useless Adolin: is singlehandedly keeping the group focused and together
Adolin also realizes that, um...he’s third in line to the throne, and little Gav is gone, and Dalinar has abdicated--meaning that technically, Adolin is king of Alethkar. 
Yikes. 
Anyway, we’re over to Szeth! Who we haven’t heard from in a while. Apparently, in restoring him, Nale was almost too late and Szeth’s soul didn’t attach right to his body. Those who are close to the Surges see him leave a glowing afterimage as he moves, which is, I admit, a little creepy. Also, Nightblood is talking to Szeth again and remains, well, nightblood: 
You should draw me, Szeth! I would love to see the lake. Vasher says there are magic fish here. Isn’t that interesting?
I love Nightblood. 
Anyway, Szeth is like “this sword is an interesting test from Nale, I don’t know what it’s supposed to teach me yet, but--” and I’m like. Nale was just sick of Nightblood yelling in his head and pawned it off on you Szeth it’s not a test it’s Nale just trying to get rid of constant excited sword noises in the back of his head. 
Anyway, we get that Szeth is not entirely sane--he’s hearing whispers in the spiritual realm of the people he’s killed, and they keep him up at night, sobbing. Also, Nightblood has Opinions of the superior Skybreakers. 
“Hopefuls,” [Ki] said in Azish, “you have been brought here because a full Skybreaker has vouched for your dedication and solemnity.”  She’s boring, the sword said. Where did Nale go? “You said he was boring too, sword-nimi,” Szeth whispered.  That’s true, but interesting things happen around him. We need to tell him that you should draw me more often. 
Nightblood also complains that Vasher always drew him, which...is untrue. Of course. But hey, Nightblood is sulky. Apparently, nobody has sworn all five of the Skybreaker ideals in centuries--although I suspect that might have something to do with how rigid and unyielding a system the Skybreakers have. 
The ideals are as follows--The Ideal of Radiance, which is the first one; the Ideal of Justice, to seek and administer it; the Ideal of Dedication, requiring having bonded a highspren, after which they’re taught Division as a surge; the Fourth is Crusade, choosing and completing a personal quest to the satisfaction of a highspren. The fifth is to become the Law, to become truth--no wonder a group so dedicated to following the law is having trouble. 
I don’t know if anyone else in here reads Discworld, but Sam Vimes absolutely has all of those ideals down. Especially the last one. Hell, a Sammy is what they call a cop in Ankh-Morpork. Although Sam is probably not the kind of Skybreaker Nale is looking for. 
Nightblood is still sulking. 
Anyway, over to Kaladin. The Mythica says that the Unmade were almost definitely still spren. 
Kal is flashing back to when he was in Amaram’s army, a time he froze on the front lines and was assigned to crem-clearing duty. Kal says he didn’t freeze because he was scared of getting hurt, it was because he was scared of hurting someone else; Tukks, his sergeant, notes that that’s a different problem, says he manages it because his squad is like his family, and he can’t let them down. But he didn’t tell Tukks the truth. It wasn’t that he was scared he was going to hurt someone. It was because he had realized that he could, if he needed to, and that terrified him. 
All shadows, in Shadesmar, point toward the sun. Syl comes over to sit by Kal, in the present day, while the others are still asleep. She thinks it’s strange that Pattern is so nice. Kaladin is refusing to talk about the real problem, though--the fact that he froze up in battle. 
Over to Szeth again. He’s seeking down a convict who escaped into a lake; they have tattoos on their foreheads marking them. Much like Kaladin, then. Szeth suspects the test is of more than that, though--because if it was just about “how fast can you kill the guilty,” it wouldn’t be much of a test. 
Szeth says that he knew a voice in his mind like Nightblood’s, when he was young, but that “he hopes things go better this time.” Hm. Was he going to be a Radiant even then? Was he being pushed to talk about having visions of the Desolation? 
Hard to say. 
Anyway, Nightblood is getting irritated at the lack of killing evil that is happening. A convict was hiding and jumps out at Szeth; he stops himself from killing him, knowing that he needs to question him instead. Anyway, Szeth is almost being drowned in the Purelake, which is great. And he drops Nightblood. 
And, given that it’s Nightblood, the convict instantly grabs for it. Good old Nightblood, drawing evil to it. Szeth paralyzes the man and leaves him to drown, saying it’s less cruel than the alternative--feeding him to a greatshell. 
Vivenna used to tell me that cruelty is only for men, as is mercy. Only we can choose one or the other, and beasts cannot. “You count yourself as a man?”  No. But sometimes she talked like she did. And after Shashara made me, she argued with Vasher, saying I could be a poet or a scholar. Like a man, right? Shashara? That sounded like Shalash, the Eastern name for the Herald Shush-daughter-God. So perhaps this sword’s origin was with the Heralds. 
Close, but no. Interesting that Shashara’s name is so similar to Shalash, but we know Shalash is alive and Shashara is dead from Warbreaker. Szeth figures out how horribly-maintained the prison was and that there was only one guard, and that nobody stopped them from making weapons. 
Szeth turned from him to Ki. “Do you have a writ of execution for this man?”  “It is the first we obtained.” 
There’s the test. Not “catch the criminals,” but “find out who the true lawbreaker is, find out how this happened.” 
And Szeth draws Nightblood. Colors change around him, Szeth’s skin is in pain, and the entire poor nobleman vanishes into smoke. His hand, which he used to wield it, has been bleached grey-white. He’ll need some stormlight for that. 
Anyway, we get that Nightblood--of course--forgets when he’s been drawn and also doesn’t really have a good sense of time. Or scale. Or...well. He’s Nightblood. 
Anyway, Ki has decided to take Szeth on as her squire. Turns out there was an argument among the Skybreakers over who got to, because he’s clearly one of the best of the hopefuls. 
Szeth nodded. “I swear to seek justice, to let it guide me, until I find a more perfect Ideal.”  “These words are accepted,” Ki said. 
That’s...that’s an interesting way to swear an oath. Until I find a more perfect Ideal. Well, it’s very Szeth-esque. Also, he’s got the sky back now!!!
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