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justadeadreaper · 4 months

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Hybrids between Ethereals were rare, in fact they were near nonexistent as most species tended to keep to themselves so a hybrid between an Ethereal and Angel was unheard of. A hybrid of that nature was deemed impossible as the Angels that did reproduce were nearly all outcasted an eternity ago, then you also heard the fear that also reigned over the minds of most Angels as it was not uncommon to hear rumours that if an Angel did have sex in general that they would be outcasted. But, this did not take into consideration hybrid Angels that were experiments; holy creatures made by the Almighty in an attempt to improve the powers that certain types of Angels had to make them more useful against the creatures of Hell.

That was when the first hybrid between the structure of an Ethereal and an Angel was born.

For the first one to be ever made the Almighty wanted to go all out. Even a creature such as the Almighty was sceptical as to if it would work as even in all the time that the Almighty had been alive something such as this had never been made. Once the Seraphim heard about the experiment it got to the Cherubim then the Thrones then the Dominions until all of Heaven had heard of the experiment. The elders of the Seraphim and a few other Angels disagreed with the idea saying that it was bad and could cause chaos but most of Heaven agreed with the idea which led to a competition being born. Whichever Angel could find all the parts of different Ethereals and have the Almighty agree that the parts were perfect would be blessed with a reward of their wildest dreams.

A young Angel, a simple Virtue who had grown attached to the babies that the humans cared for, came to the Almighty with the parts needed for the experiment. The pincers and legs of a spider that had been killed by a horde of Demons when it was weaving its thread and silk to form a new part of Heaven; the horn of a unicorn that had been ripped off due to the unicorn’s failure to keep their maiden a virgin; the claws of one of the wolves that had saved her from a Demon attack; the fangs and horns of the weaker Krampusse under the rule of Krampus, weird creatures of Hell that were the only Demons accepted into Heaven under the watch of Powers as their cause was seen as purer compared to other Demons that did not fully care about tormenting Angels or spreading sin on Earth. The parts were barely damaged, perfect to be used for the newest experiment that the Almighty planned. The Almighty deemed them as useful and acceptable for the experiment and in return for helping in this experiment, the Almighty blessed her with an important role that would fulfil her desire. She would be the “mother” of the hybrid as unlike the Angels that were born as adults this hybrid would be born a baby due to the unstable nature of the hybrid and as a backup plan in case anything went wrong as a weak baby that knew nothing was easier to kill than an adult.

The day or well the event itself was a spectacle. Everyone wanted to see the birth of this experiment, to see what would happen when Angels and Ethereals were brought together into one being. A perfect mix that was left to incubate until it was stable enough to be able to exist. The tension was palpable as all of Heaven gathered around the star Muscida to see the unique being that would hatch forth. It was not long before it finally hatched as if it could feel the expecting eyes watching it, waiting for it, everyone wanting to see it. The star began to glow as it slowly began to expand and expand.

Bang.

It exploded, releasing an array of colours that spread out creating a web around the remains of the shell which the new creature had hatched from. The thing was wrapped in a layer of light that even blinded the Angels, no one could see its true form as it was hidden behind the light and before the light had chance to dim that experiment had been taken away by Michael to be given to the Almighty and the awaiting mother.

The creature was raised by a caring heart but was trained as soon as it could understand commands, its only purpose was to keep the Almighty safe and kill as many demons as it could find. A Seraphim mutated by the pieces of other creatures, a monster, an abomination. Never accepted by other Seraphim or the Cherubim who had to begrudgingly tolerate it while it was praised by the masses of lower Angels for massacring any Demons that came to close or even broke into Heaven; a balance of hate and love that was enough to fuck up anyone’s mind especially an Angel that only chased after the blood of Demons like it was a source of food.

For a creature so praised that was even welcomed alongside the Powers even if it was a completely different rank, no one knew what it looked like. Yes, Angels knew the rumours that had been passed from the Seraphims in a game of telephone. It was supposed to be monstrous, horrid even compared to creatures like the Thrones, a slight against the Almighty who must have been out of mind when creating the damned thing, the epitome of the phrase ‘Do not be afraid’. Most did not believe it as they could slightly see the chiselled body which was hidden behind robes that hung loosely from its body, although some Angels believed that behind the wings and veil that covered the face was the thing that was the true horror as all they ever got glimpses of were three icey, blue eyes on the left side of the face that never blinked but instead had a red tint to it whenever light caught it.

But those who had seen it would not truly call it a monster even if it had the features of one. The only few people who had seen the true form were its “mother”, the seven Archangels, the Almighty, and other Seraphim. In her deranged state the “mother” of course accepted it, no matter the appearance she would have been accepting because that was the baby that she had dreamed of. The Archangels did not care as why would they? They were too important, too busy to care about another experiment, yes a few of them thought it was a bit horrifying but most of the higher Angels were horrifying so in their opinion it fit right in. The Almighty did not care at all, in fact pride was the only thing the Almighty felt towards the experiment even with its appearance as that was just a testament as to what it was, it was all that was dreamed of, a perfect being of destruction that at first glance would be believed to be a total failure or impossible but it was not, no not at all. It was the first and was proof that it could work, to make hybrids that had the abilities of the Ethereals that could make Angels even more powerful than they already were like how in Hell they had been making hybrids to make Demons more stronger. All it was was proof to the Almighty even if more hybrids would be weaker or mixed with only one or two Ethereal types. But for the Seraphim it depended on who was the one answering the question. Most believed it to be a horrifying abomination, an insult to their kind to have their form mutated with the parts of less holy beings, although a minority of the Seraphim were accepting as it was not their place to judge as it was the Almighty’s favourite pet out of them all.

So, what did it look like? Was it truly horrifying under the mask? Well it depends on what is deemed as horrifying which depends on the person who sees it.

Like all Seraphim it had six wings: a pair to hide the face, a pair to fly that were not hiding anything, and a pair to hide the feet. The feathers were pure white at first glance but when the light hit at certain angles or they were tilted a certain way each feather was tinted with its very own colour, no colour was the same making each one unique. Its skin was slightly tanned but riddled with scars and the freckles, the scars were golden and were mostly slash wounds from when it had fought with Demons while the freckles looked like stars had been scattered across its chest, back, and face. Its hair was long and consisted of three forms, the first where it seemed to be lines of pure gold that was fluffy like cotton candy, the second a great blaze that could be lit on command as a way form of a threat as it was a wild mess, and the third was for after the hair had been turned to fire as it was consumed in soot to the point that it looked like obsidian as it was thing and like thin branches. Most of the time loose strands of hair were in front of its face or it was held behind its horns. It had three horns, a spiralling horn that curved into a point which would change colour depending on its mood while on the side instead of ears were two ram horns either side that had a slight raised spike of a horn at the base which would be considered an extra pair of horns if they were not attached to the other horns. The mouth would stretch far wider than humanly possible to show a set of teeth mostly made of canines with a tongue could wrap around most creatures easily as two chelicerae lay at the corners of the lips ready to inject Demons with a poison that would surely kill them in a moment. Technically it had four arms, all of which ended with claws, attached to its body as pedipalps attached to its arms looked like arms while it already had two normal arms attached to a body that was chiselled but chiselled to be a tank that could withstand attacks as the muscle was hidden under a protective layer of fat. On its face was a total of five eyes, three on the left and two on the right. All were an icey blue that looked like you were staring at the ocean through ice as the main right eye had one above it as the main left eye had one above and one below. And a crooked nose that had been broken a far few times due to Seraphim that just did not like when it opened its mouth to brag. What it was most embarrassed about though was the tail due to the sensitivity of the poor appendage. A long, tapered thing which was covered in a soft, silk-like fur before near two thirds through it bushed out into a soft pillow.

Compared to most Seraphim it was large, very large. Taller than all the others except for a select few as it towered over not just the other Seraphim but most of the beings in Heaven except for the Thrones that tended to be double its height. But, it was not just its height or mutated appearance that set it apart from the others, it was also the halo. Yes it may have been made up of light and was a circular disk, acting much like it was from a painting of a Saint as if it was a golden disk attached to the back of its head, but it did not just have lines of light coming out of it, no, it was slightly more disturbing. Arms circled around the halo, then eyes circled the arms, before it was finally circled by more beams of light.

Although it was not just its appearance that had it hated but instead some others that had directly dealt with it hated it for the egotistical personality.

Now how would one deal with many conflicting emotions and what sort of creature would it create? The emotions of technically being the only one of your kind, being at the time the only hybrid and when the other hybrids were made you were the only hybrid like that and the species you belonged to as a hybrid either seemed to praise you as a saviour or hated you for just existing. That same species that rejected you were so powerful but made you feel so much smaller as they bullied and ostracised you for what you were even though you could crush them under your feet. Then due to their ostracisation you could not do the job you felt you needed to do as it was in your nature as none of them trusted you, instead you were trained to become a mindless killer like the Angels so below you in righteousness. But how did that mix with being praised and glorified by your creator for just existing and being the perfect model as everyone eyes seemed to be watching you, waiting for you to screw up to be killed as you had such higher standards put to you compared to the mindless drones of creatures that adore you and kissed at your feet for being a killer and such a holy thing.

It created a mess, an unstable mess. A volatile cocktail of a violent, insecure, paranoid, cocky thing with too much confidence while being riddled with anxiety as a God complex was filled by all the praises that it had heard its whole life causing such an inferiority and superiority complex that did nothing to help the anger issues. No being wiser to the unholy thoughts that riddled its mind and actions due to the Demon and somewhat mortal structures that affected its nature as it could get away with most of the things it wanted since who would dare attack him for taking his frustrations out on others.

It made him.

König.

The King of the Hybrids, the experiment, one of Heaven’s finest killers.

#angel!cod au #cod #angel #konig cod #könig cod #könig call of duty #konig #könig #angel könig #angel König

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animelovelover123 · 1 month

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V's Yandere Alphabet

Synopsis/Author's Note: I was planning to make one of these for all the boys but this took me 6 months and I lost steam fast so this might be the only one you guys get.

The yandere alphabet template I am using was made by no gender bee on tumblr.

P.S. It took me until posting this that this is not the full alphabet, lol.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction for personal entertainment. If you are reading this, please understand that drawing/writing/reading/imagining things of this nature does NOT equate to desiring or supporting real-world assault.

Abuse = Could they ever hurt you physically or mentally? What would be the reason?

Physically? No. Mentally, kind of. He would not do it with the intent of causing harm, but some of V’s mental manipulation can hurt. He’ll pull at your heartstrings, saddle you with guilt, and talk in circles to get you to comply with his wishes all while using flowery language to mask the manipulative web he is weaving.

A big one, and the most common form of mental strain he gives you, is when he is desperate for attention and at the end of his rope. He will plead for it, reminding you that neither of you knows how long he has left to live and that he only wants to spend it with you. He does this to show you how much you mean to him, but he is also aware that he is inciting guilt in you. He does not realize how deeply and long it can affect you though until you tell/show him.

Both = You are a Yandere too, what’s their reaction?

V is intrigued and finds it amusing at first. His obsessive tendencies take longer to form, and he also does not believe he will live long so he sees your invasive and manipulative actions as entertaining with no fear of long-term repercussions. Even if you think you are being sneaky, he sees everything you are doing and he enjoys watching your reactions as he either plays along with your schemes or effortlessly evades them.

But once he finds himself falling for you in return, he gets rather depressed. He sees how desperately you want him, yet he knows, no matter how much he wants you as well, that all of your attempts to show your love will be in vain. He’ll try to pull away from you, but the more you chase, the more he wants you.

Then he finds out a way to live longer and his restraints are finally broken. You and he revel in your shared obsession, happily lavishing each other with love and attention. He sees your quirks and views them as romantic gestures. He finds out you have been stealing his things? How it warms his heart to know you want him close at all times even when home alone. Why don’t we move in together darling to save you the trouble? You’ve cancelled his plans with others behind his back? Well, why didn’t you tell him you wanted a night alone? He would love nothing more. You’ve killed a supposed love rival? Snuffing out another's life just because they threatened to take his love, though not necessary as you already have his heart, is such a beautiful display of adoration that he just has to give you a reward~

Crazy = How easy do they enter crazy mode? How do they act when they are in it?

It takes a lot for this man to snap. He is the essence of calm and collected, able to keep his composure in circumstances where most would panic and/or become angry. You could rage at him before walking out the door claiming you will never return, and though he will put up a bit of a fight, he knows deep down that you are just lashing out. After you have time to calm down you will be back in his arms soon enough. Whether by your own means or his, that was yet to be seen. This man could be in the middle of getting arrested and he would comply because he knows that this is not the end. He could easily escape prison and find his way back to you. The only true end is death, and that is what will cause him to snap.

Not his own death per se as that mental break will be directed and contained to himself. If his plan for extended life starts failing, he will fight tooth and nail to survive while rushing through the stages of grief. The most this will affect you is that he will disappear for a while as he tries to find a solution before returning when he realizes there is no hope for him and begs you to stay with him until his last breath.

The true snapping point would be a result of your life almost being lost, particularly if you try to take your own. Knowing or, worse, catching you trying to end your life flips a switch in him. He already had a lot of stress from trying to preserve his own life, but when he realizes that he could lose the primary reason he fought so hard to live all of that effort, panic, and stress gets funneled into caring for you. Now that he perceives a proverbial ticking clock for both of your lives, he will no longer allow a single second to go by without you. He will lock you up in his home and become your caretaker, tying you up so you can’t hurt yourself and taking care of all of your needs himself like feeding you and bathing you. You are his everything, and he will not let a second of both of your possibly short lives not be spent together. (see K for Kidnapped for more details)

Difference = When can you notice different behaviour in them?

At first V’s yandere tendencies were subdued and easily hidden. For the first couple months of knowing you he was under the belief that he was not long for this world. His body was actively deteriorating and soon he would have to return to Vergil.

But then he found a way that he could continue living as his own person. Maybe through killing and absorbing Urizen’s life force rather than merging with it or by somehow stealing it from others. Either way, there was a chance for him to survive and pursue a relationship with you. That is when he changed and that is when you start noticing his obsession with you.

He won't totally indulge in his attraction to you until he has proof that this lead is viable, but he will suddenly become more affectionate. Where he once kept any compliments and flirtatious remarks shrouded in flowery language so that you could not quite tell if he meant it that way became more direct and regular. The few feet he always put between you two was shorted as much as you would allow.

When he does gain evidence that his plan for a longer life is working, all restraints are off. He immediately goes to you and confesses his love. He may even tell you right then his true origins, why they resulted in him being distant at first, and how now that he has a long life ahead of him he is excited to spend it with you.

Enjoy = Do they enjoy what they’re doing to you, your life and the people around you? Do they show it?

V does worry about how some of his actions affect you. He is a bit of a philosopher type, often getting lost in thoughts or conversations about the deeper meanings and effects things have on people and the world as a whole. He is also introspective so he will occasionally worry himself over what he is doing. This line of thought doesn’t only trigger when you show hints of discomfort or hesitation. You could be perfectly happy, but he is privy to the manipulation and trickery of his that you are falling for. He considers and speculates on how his actions could warp your mind in the long run. And when he pictures the worst-case scenario, he might just guilt himself into admitting to, and apologizing for, a recent misconception he gave you.

He did not say those things with malicious intent, he just wanted to protect you from the cruel world and keep you loving him.

Force = Are they willing to force you into loving them? How will they do it?

If you are a demon, to any extent, V will force you into a contract with him, assuming he is unsuccessful in his initial attempt at convincing you to join willingly. Depending on your battle prowess he will even call you to (relatively easy) fights along with his other familiars. Seeing you in battle is just as beautiful as seeing you dance to him so he will gladly do it as long as the risk of permanent harm is practically nonexistent. No matter how skilled you are in combat though, your primary duty as one of his demons is as a companion. With you being bound to him he can call you to him whenever he wishes to be with you, which is most of the time. He’ll try to offer you space and as much free will as he can, but the more obsessed he becomes the more he will abuse this power over you. One thing to note though is that he will not force you into romantic or sexual acts, even if he technically could through your contract. No matter how much he desired you, he would never hurt you in that way.

Alternatively, say you were a human. He would force you, again assuming you don’t fall for his flowery words, to take on a demon familiar. Not just any demon though. Specifically, he wants you to bond with one of his familiars. If you want more than that that is your prerogative, the more safety you have and empowerment you feel is only a boon, but being partially bonded to one of his familiars is his requirement. He tells you that he wants to keep you safe by giving you access to one, or more, of his demons for protection, and this is true. Though V is their primary master, V will willingly put himself at a disadvantage in battle by allowing you to call one of his familiars for protection. And if you don’t call them V will send them to you. He also advertises the practical benefits of having creatures at your beck and call. One aspect that he does not fully disclose though is how being bonded to a demon under his command also acts as a tracking device for when you try to run. (See H for Hide for more details.)

Gross = What is something they think is really romantic/sweet but is actually horrifying?

He writes letters and notes to you using his blood as ink. Sometimes it is just his signature coloured burgundy, and other times you find whole notes or poems scrawled in thin, inconsistently faded cursive which he delivers to your home or work with a bandaged arm.

He already puts his heart and soul into these letters. To him, offering part of his body with them shows you his complete devotion.

Hide = How easy is it to hide from them?

Depends on if he has bound you to one of his familiars yet.

First, let's assume he hasn't. Then, honestly, it’s pretty easy as he is but one man with not a lot of connections. He can send out his familiars to scan the area for you, but they can not go too far from V. That is only if he works alone though because the few connections he does have are with people who hunt down living creatures as their profession. Sure, hunting a demon is not quite the same as hunting a person down and his friends will initially question why you would run off, but V just has to string together a tail of how you are being influenced by a denizen of hell and that they must find you before it is too late. Sure enough, he will convince the morally just crew of demon hunters to find his love and now half a dozen people are calling in favours and travelling the country looking for you. And when they do find you, even if you try to tell them that you ran away from V willingly, V’s story has already cemented itself in their brains so they will drag you back anyway. A caveat to this plan is that the crew will get more and more suspicious if you run away multiple times and V keeps asking them for their help.

One of the benefits of binding you to one of his demons is that he won't have to risk growing doubt within his friends. With you bound to one of his demons (see F for Force for more details), no matter where in the world you run V can track your location by getting his familiar to appear around you, scan the area to gather information, and relay it to him. And when he is close enough, the familiar can just pin you down and call out like a siren so V can easily find you.

Improve = Will they be willing to recover from this psychotic state for their lover?

Working off of E for Enjoy, V can find the conviction to be better for you. The problem is that he does not really know how to be better. He has only existed as his own entity for a relatively short time and has no experience with having a healthy relationship. He has only ever had you and the, sometimes maddening, urges to be with you. But because of his overwhelming love for you and the fear that his actions risk harming you, he will work towards being better.

He has to look to healthier relationships, like Nero and Kyrie’s and what little memories of Sparda and Eva’s he retains from Vergil, to understand what they look like and how he himself is failing. And if he can’t make the headway he wishes, being unable to stop himself from telling you subtle lies and trying to monopolize your attention, he will talk to someone about his feelings and urges. He understands that he does not yet really understand how to be human and is not above asking for aid in learning, for his own well-being yes, but mostly for yours.

Justification = Why are they acting like that? When did it start?

Upon being created, V knew that he did not have long to live. Soon he would join with Urizen and become Vergil once more. When he first started to fall for you, he knew it would not last due to his minuscule lifespan so would not pursue a romantic relationship. He could not, however, stay away from you. You were like a work of art, so utterly perfect that it was a miracle you even existed in such a cold and cruel world. He tried to accept the brief moments of connection you shared as enough to have him return to Vergil without regrets, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

His body was failing though, crumbling away. Perhaps when he becomes whole again Vergil will be able to be with you. But that would not be the same for you or V, and he knew that.

And then, he found a way to continue living as his own person (See D for Difference for more context). Now he had a chance to have a life with you. But always lurking in the back of his mind is the fear that this means of sustaining his body and life will fail. He does not know when he will disappear or how quickly it could take him. This is why he needs to always be with you. He doesn’t know how much time he has left and he wants to spend as much of it with you as he can. You understand, don’t you darling?

Kidnap = Are they willing to kidnap you? If so how will they do it, for how long will they keep you away and where?

He will kidnap you if you make the drastic decision to try to end your own life (see C for Crazy for more context). He has given you the freedom to do what you want, far more than most yanderes would, despite the dangers in the world because he trusted you and himself to keep you safe. But now that even you are a danger to yourself, that shattered any trust V had.

When he finds out what you were trying to do, whether it be through catching you in the act or finding out in the aftermath of a failed attempt, he will bring you to his home. He will tell you, and anyone else privy to your attempt, that he wanted to give you a safe place where you can be monitored, rest, and offer an ear to which you can discuss your feelings and thoughts without judgment. And with him being your partner, if other people knew of your attempt, they would trust him to watch over you and stop you from trying this again. And that was exactly what he would do.

So you spend the night with V in his home where he refuses to leave your side for more than a minute at a time. It was understandable though, right? He was just shaken from what you tried to do. But when you woke up you found your wrists belted together, as were your ankles, and were chained to the bed’s headboard and one of the bed’s end legs respectively.

“My love, you are awake.” V greets as he enters the room, a bowl of oatmeal in his hand. “How wonderful it is to see your beautiful eyes finally open.” You can ask him what is going on, but no matter if you question him in fear, anger, or confusion, he will smile sympathetically as he helps you sit up. “I know this may be a bit frightening my dear, but this is all for your safety. You have somehow come to the heartbreaking and erroneous belief that you should not live and have become a danger to yourself because of it. But worry not, for I love you unconditionally and will care for you in your stead. Now, open up~” He coos as he holds out a spoonful of oatmeal.

V keeps you bound for as long as it takes for him to trust you not to attack him. Still, whenever he leaves the house he chains you to the bed to make sure you don’t try anything. Soon enough he stops going out, instead spending every waking moment coddling you. He feeds you by hand, dresses you, bathes you, and loves you through any bout of emotions, be they positive or negative. You don’t get to step foot outside until after you are knocked out by drugs and discreetly transferred to a new home out in some forest. Once there he will be willing to take you on walks, if you can prove you can behave. Even if you do try to escape though, the forest is enchanted so any human without a demon guide will be lost to endlessly loop through the same areas.

After years of living like this and proving that you don’t intend to leave him or harm yourself, you may just be lucky enough to find out how V was able to keep you locked up and disappear without anyone coming to look for you. You see, your friends and family were devastated when they heard from V that you had killed yourself by running off into a demon nest and letting yourself be eaten. And then it was unfortunate but unsurprising when V, now without the love of his life, spiraled into depression, became a recluse, moved away from the city where he and his love spent their time together, and soon after joined you in the afterlife.

“What a tragic tale, isn’t it dear?” He asks you with a proud smile on his face as he feeds you your lunch.

Love me = How will they make you say “I love you”?

He has no intention of forcing the words out of you. Instead, he sees your love in your actions so he does not need to hear the words themselves. If anything, if you were to say ‘I love you’ without complete sincerity he would see it as the complete opposite. You must be upset and/or unhappy in some way. Though he does not want to pry, if you keep forcing words of affection out it will eat away at him until you pleads for you to stop and instead tell him what it is that is driving you to hurt him like this.

Moving on = If you die or escape, will they be able to move on? How easy it’ll be for them?

You are his light, his world, and the number one reason that he fought to stay alive. If you were to leave him, he would be devastated. With you gone so is his will to live, and so he will follow you into the beyond. However, one deciding factor for how he will come to his end is why you met yours. If it was some unforeseen tragedy then he would chase after you into the next world immediately. But if your death was in any way his doing, he would drag out his death. Whether it be through starvation or letting his body deteriorate, whichever was more painful and a fitter punishment for the sins he has committed.

Alternatively, if you were to escape and he could not find you, his will would slowly drain. He would spend more time and energy looking for you and despairing over not being able to find you, he would neglect what he needs to do to stay alive. Slowly his failing body would wither away or, if the option is still available, he may just make a last-ditch effort to become whole again. He knows that death would be an easier option than reforming, but his lingering feelings may unconsciously drive Vergil to keep looking for you and you wouldn’t hide from Vergil, right? Knowing you were at least alive would give V’s broken heart and soul some levity while it rotted away somewhere inside Vergil.

Non-stop = How clingy will they be when you’re in a relationship? How possessive are they? And how much free space do they give you?

V will give you a great deal more space than most yandere’s. He is fine with you spending time with others, whether he is present or not. He will even allow you to go on multiple-day-long trips, like road trips or vacations, with others. Seeing you happy and hearing you excitedly recount your outings was a joy in it of itself for him. Hearing you talk with exuberance and seeing your radiant smile as you describe the event you attended, the activity you did, and the conversations you had was just enough to make missing you worth it. It also helps that he is an introvert so is more than okay with spending some time for himself.

There is a limit to this though. If you have a job or attend school then he can get by with having you in the morning and evening. He will encourage you and praise you for your hard work before and after each day while enjoying having you all to himself. But if, on top of this, you are going out with friends two or three days a week then he’ll get antsy. He won’t get in the way, but he will get a bit needy and clingy, doing things like wanting to walk you to and from places just to spend more time with you and inviting you on more dates and activities to offset how much you go out with others.

But if others try to take up more of your time than that, V will become a lot more proactive. Suddenly you start ‘forgetting’ your phone in the other room all the time, meaning you miss calls and texts. Your calendar and alarms start messing up more, giving you incorrect times and dates causing you to miss events. V seemingly becomes more worried about your well-being. Do you have a bit of a cough? Feeling warmer than usual? A bit of a headache? Well, then it is best if you stay home. Even if it seems small now, exserting yourself by going out could just make things worse. Besides, the weather report said it might rain. So just rest at home today, V will be there to care for you.

Other = Someone else speaks or flirts with you, how will they react?

V is usually very confident and trusting of you to not betray him so does not mind when others speak to you. He doesn’t blame the person either because you are a truly fascinating person that V can’t get enough of, so others wanting to get to know you is only logical. Other’s flirting with you is usually a similar story, as he trusted you implicitly. But that does not mean he is always complicit. If you or the person give him a reason to worry, such as you seemingly reciprocating that flirtation or the person overstepping boundaries, then V will act.

It won’t be a full-on assault, physically or verbally, it will be a subtle, insidious poison that he seeps into the bothersome person. Through his words he will gracefully belittle and insult the person while showcasing his superior knowledge and sharp wit. Most of his comments don’t even immodestly register as insults, instead, they will weigh the person down bit by bit until their confidence is but dust in the wind and they realize that they have no chance in besting V in his control over your heart.

Present = What presents do they usually give you? What’s the worst and best gift you got from them?

V is a classic, artistic romantic, so expect roses and poetry, sometimes simply a pre-written piece that reminds him of you and other times it is a personal poem written by him. He can also take this to the extreme though (See G for Gross). The both best and worst thing he has given you, depending on your perspective, is having you make a contract with one or multiple of his demons (See F for Force for more detail).

Risk = How risky will they be with getting rid of rivals?

V has no intention of killing anyone. He loves you and, though you may not see it now, he knows you love him too. But if he really feels the need to dispose of someone, he has to be careful. Not so much because he fears the police or the friends and family of the victim. They could easily be tricked and manipulated into cooperating. It was his own family and friends that posed a problem. Dante, Nero, Kyrie, they would never understand. They don’t understand how deep his love is for you. If they found out he killed someone to protect his relationship with you, they would try to intervene or, worst of all, try to get you away from him. V can’t risk that.

So he carefully plans out his assassination. He can’t use his familiars because there is a chance that as soon as the police/family realize the murder was done by a demon they may call Lady or Dante’s businesses for help and they can spot Griffon, Shadow, and Nightmare’s work easily. And a physical altercation, even with the aid of weapons, would cause too much of a scene. So instead, V will kill with discreet methods, such as poison, or a disposable method, such as forming a contract with a demon, sending them out on their elimination mission, and then killing the new demon familiar so it could not be traced back to V.

Sweet = Even when they’re Yandere they can be sweet. What’s their sweet Yandere side?

You are his world, his everything, and he will tell you that often. Every day he tells you and shows you how much he appreciates you and all you do, for him and others. Being able to wake up beside you, spend time with you, and hold you at night is a blessing that he will always cherish, no matter how long you are together.

Type = What type of Yandere are they?

Going off of the Yandere Fandom Wiki’s list, V would mostly be a Manipulative Yandere (Focuses on working a series of situations to prevent losing their love.) with a bit of a Submissive Yandere (Only in love with one specific person and will carry out any task asked of them.).

V has a way with words and with his ability to stay calm and collected no matter the intricate lies he is weaving, he will subtly manipulate you into things like spending more time with him and fending off anyone who seriously threatens your relationship (See O for Other for more details). He won��t just have you wrapped around his finger, as he will also make others question themselves or change their mind through his poetic, complex, cryptic wording. This can range from telling your family and friends that they should not make you go to some even, claiming things like how tired and stressed you are when in reality he just wants more time alone with you, to even beneficial things like convincing your teachers or boss to treat you better because you are such an amazing student/worker.

There is also little he wouldn’t do for you. He will of course do small things if you ask like taking you to and from appointments no matter the ungodly hour it is happening and taking you on dates to all the places you are interested in. But he will do so much more if only you ask it of him. For example, if you come to him for help, telling him about some person or group that is hurting you somehow, either directly or through association, and ask him to get rid of them, he will.

Unsure = How much trust do they have in you? What happens if you break it?

V trusts you a great deal, more than most yandere. Even when you make small mistakes he will quickly forgive you and assure you that he understands that you are doing your best and don’t truly mean any harm. If you do something drastic though, that is different. There is what will happen if you try to hurt yourself (See K for Kidnapping), but if you do something like cheat on him he will be devastated. He will blame himself for the most part, assuming he has failed to provide you with the love and affection you desire and is determined to be better. He will follow you without being too pushy, not quite a stalker but he will reappear in your life every couple of weeks to try to win your heart back. And between each meeting, he would work on improving himself in any way he thinks he is failing you, from physical to social to financial. At times he may even consider leaving you be, letting you go free, but he can’t help but be drawn to you. In the end, he would rather give up on life rather than give up on you.

Welcome = Let’s say they’re Yandere for you but you never had your first meeting… How do they initiate it?

If you two have not officially met but you have caught V’s eye, he will avoid approaching you due to the belief that he will return to Vergil soon. He does not wish to hurt you by charming you and then disappearing, though that does have a romantic air to it. So perhaps he will allow himself to be seen once or twice if the situation requires. For example, if you are attacked by demons he will jump in to save you, maybe take a moment to let his mysterious and alluring aura seep in before disappearing like a masked hero, never truly known but leaving a sense of mysticism. At least this way, when the being known as V does disappear from this world, he will live on in you to a small extent.

If/when he knows that he can prolong his life, he will search for you right away. He’ll want to keep up his dark, mysterious, romantic aura as much as possible to make a good impression. This includes not giving you all the answers right away, slipping into the shadows and reappearing for the first few meets, and not letting you meet the blabbermouth Griffon or the horrific Nightmare, at least not at first. Shadow you may meet because he trusts her to not ruin the moment and may even add to his allure as he has a powerful jungle cat at his whim.

He has read countless poems and stories of romance, and he will use that to his advantage to make your introduction to him as perfect as possible.

Zealous = If everything fails, will they be able to kill their partner? For the most part, no. Even if you fight, run, reject, and abandon him over and over he will never be pushed to kill you. The only circumstance in which he would take your life is if you have been irreparably damaged, physically or mentally. If, because of a demon attack, the cruelty of the world infecting you with an incurable disease, or you have lost your mind, if your life is nothing but suffering, he will mercy kill you. And he would follow you soon after, to be able to hold you in the afterlife and watch you be free of this pain.

#devil may cry imagine #devil may cry x reader #v x reader #devil may cry #yandere v #v dmc #v devil may cry #yandere v dmc #yandere #yandere male #soft yandere #male yandere

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minecraftbookshelf · 3 months

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In the Age of Icons: Mistakes Are Made

Chapter One: The Day Of

A Marriage of State AU Fic

[AU Masterpost (includes the AO3 link)]

Characters: Jimmy Solidarity, Xornoth, Katherine Elizabeth, Mythical J Sausage

Relationships (for the AU as a whole): Eventual (very slow burn) Flower Husbands, (established) Shadowbeans/Jizzie, (obnoxiously new) Jornoth, Eventual (very far future) Nature Wives

Wordcount: 4214

Rating On AO3: This particular fic is rated T, future installments in the AU may go all the way up to E for graphic violence but most will be between T & M

Chapter POV: Jimmy Solidarity & Xornoth

Summary:

The Codfather weaves his fingertips together so that the slight webbing between his fingers touches. It's the first time in a while he's had both hands away from his shoulder, where at least one has been hovering near his sword hilt almost the entire time, despite Katherine's glares. "It's a marriage treaty, between the royalty of the oppositions, bound in blood and salt, for peace and mutual gain." His voice has gained a slight sing-song cadence to it, even through what is clearly a slightly stumbling translation, that Xornoth recognizes from their own anytime they are reciting something from their childhood lessons, even to this day.

Warnings: A sort of general reminder of the narrative took "Unreliable Narrators"

This AU features multiple arranged marriages across the spectrum of platonic-romantic and the complicated nuances of chosen and arranged.

Any section from Xornoth's POV does have parts that read like very violent and occasionally graphic intrusive thoughts due to the whole "there is a demon living in their head" thing. If that's something you think you might have issues with, please proceed with caution if you choose to proceed at all.

Jimmy spends the majority of his flight to the Overgrown fuming and imagining the many different ways he could kill Sausage. It's cathartic indulgence and if he's busy imagining swarms of axolotls and pufferfish descend on the Mythlandic king in his minds' eye than he isn't worrying about the actual situation and what it could potentially mean for him and the Swamp.

Much. He isn't worrying about it much.

The fact that Sausage had made it past the Swamp border and all the way to Jimmy's house without being seen or stopped is...fine. It's fine.

The wind catches Jimmy's elytra at an odd angle and he dips alarmingly low for a heart-jolting moment; his tail flailing out on instinct in an attempt to steady him in a non-existent current. He catches himself before he actually crashes into the treetops, though he does have to bank hard to the left in a way that pulls the harness sharp against his shoulder. The joint twinges at the strain and he grimaces. He'll probably feel that tomorrow. He's been skipping out on his stretches, in all the chaos of the escalating tensions, and his bad side has been worse than usual. He can feel the tension of the old scar tissue at his elbow and the tightness of the muscle down his neck and shoulder.

Joel will yell at him for that.

On the bright side, maybe he'll go to war with the Mythlands and then he'll be too busy to get yelled at. He thinks Pix would call that 'silver linings.'

The trees thin out and give way to green grass fields dotted with sheep and flowers and Jimmy angles his trajectory downwards. The magic saturating the Border of the Overgrown brushes his scales as he enters and he shudders. It doesn't matter how many times he comes to visit Katherine, every time is just as unsettling. It feels like the time he bit an electric eel as a fry. A tingle and a buzzing that leaves the webbing between his fingers numb and his teeth hurting.

Katherine's house materializes on the horizon, the layers of glamour falling away and Jimmy banks into a spiral to land. He's been airborne for so long that he's barely even damp and, last minute, he decides to land in the water feature instead of on the grass surrounding it. He lands in the fountain with a splash and a sigh, the water closing over his head and offering blessed relief. His gills flare, water flowing freely through his right side and even managing a pass on his left. He allows himself a moment to settle beneath the surface and let the itchy dry feeling of his scales fade, away from the biting cold and thin air of the skyways.

He rolls over and stares at the sky, taking a minute to just exist. It's uncomfortable; his elytra, his trident, and his sword all pressing into his spine, but at least it is calm and quiet.

His view is almost immediately obstructed by a far, far too familiar silhouette tinted red and gold.

Jimmy bolts upright and almost slams his forehead into Sausage's.

He scrambles back and to his feet where he stands, dripping, in the fountain to the backdrop of the displeased gazes of Katherine's door guards and the giggles of the King of Mythland.

How did this go so wrong so fast?

"Hello, Jimmy!"

He manages to clamber out of the fountain without tripping and falling flat on his face at least. He splashes Katherine in the process, where she is hovering off to the side but he can't really be bothered to worry about that. All he can manage to do is stare at Sausage's smirking face.

"Hello, Jimmy!"

Katherine's greeting is much less mocking and Jimmy looks back down to acknowledge it. Way down. Katherine is the shortest emperor and the white tips of her ears barely clear his elbow. She is smiling up at him as if she hasn't invited him to her house only to ambush him with one of his greatest enemies. As if he hadn't trusted that her home was safe. As if he hadn't trusted that she would stand with him.

"What is he doing here?" He jerks his chin at Sausage, who is still giggling like a child. He sees Jimmy looking and grins at him, all teeth.

Behind the mask, Jimmy bares his own teeth and takes some comfort in the knowledge that he has more of them; and they are sharper. He straightens his spine and does his best to stand at his full height instead of curling slightly to the left. His sword and trident clank softly together over his shoulder.

Katherine looks briefly unsure before she sets her expression and gestures at her door. "We should all go inside and talk there. I would like to help negotiate peace between The Swamp and Mythland."

She's using her official voice. Sausage keeps giggling and Jimmy can barely hear it beneath the roar in his ears. He leans down to try and whisper into the faerie queen's ear.

"I really need your alliance right now, Katherine." He hopes his desperation doesn't show in his voice.

She gives him a reproving look that throws him right back to his brief time spent in a classroom. "I'm allied with everyone, Jimmy. You know that."

"He invaded the Swamp," Jimmy hisses, his ear-fins flaring, ignoring the shudder down his spine from her use of his Name, even in part. "He crossed our borders. Again. He's threatened war." He's no longer whispering by the end, standing to his full height, shoulders back, sword hand by his shoulder.

"And according to him, you've threatened it right back!"

It's almost a physical blow, the way the betrayal hits him. He manages to keep from physically staggering back only because Sausage appears beside him and throws an arm over his shoulder. Something the Mythlandic king has to stand on tiptoe to accomplish. It yanks Jimmy uncomfortably sideways and down and his trident almost slips from his back.

"Come on, Jimmy! Let's talk!" Sausage smiles, all teeth like an alligator, lurking on the surface of the water. "We can make peace!"

Jimmy knocks his arm away and straightens, doing his best to loom over the other ruler. His extra foot of height should be more of an advantage than if feels like. He grabs for the hilt of his sword and is only stopped by Katherine, who flies right up into his face to frown at him.

"No weapons!" She shakes her finger right in front of his mask and Jimmy clamps down on the instinctive urge to yank up the Codfather head and bite it. That would be no help to anyone, especially himself. No one takes him seriously as it is. Except maybe Pix. Maybe.

Instead he focuses on glaring at Sausage over Katherine's shoulder. The king of Mythland beams back at him, hands clasped innocently in front of himself (well away from the hilt of his own greatsword), head cocked to the side. The picture of harmless amiability were it not for the malicious sparkle in his eyes. Ohhhhhh how Jimmy would love to feed his organs to Lizzie's axolotls. He flexes his claws before Katherine grabs his arm and tugs him towards her front door, six tiny fingertips digging into his scales above his vambraces. (The embossed leather the only armor he'd worn, he hadn't realized he'd wish for more.)

Sausage trails behind them and as much as Jimmy reminds himself that not even Sausage would have the audacity to attack him in Katherine's house (probably) he can't quite shake the prickling tension from having an enemy at his back. It feels like the first time Lizzie and Joel took him to clear an ancient monument and he'd stalked through the twisty corridors and boxy rooms with the creeping feeling of being stalked in turn.

Sausage slips and almost falls on some of the tacky slime he'd accidentally tracked in and that does help. Even if he does feel bad for messing up Katherine's floor. He can feel the impassively judgmental stare from Katherine's guards, who's features do not change but still somehow radiate disapproval. He knows he probably shouldn't take it personally, most fae don't think highly of outsiders but it still feels personal.

Sausage recovers quickly and shakes out the fur lining of his coat. "Is it just me or does it smell fishy in here, now?"

"Sausage," Katherine looks disapprovingly back over her shoulder. "That's rude."

"Oh," Sausage blinks at them both, "I'm sorry, Jimmy, I didn't realize."

Jimmy wants to stab him so badly, he sets his shoulders and refrains. He can do this. He's technically trained for this, even if the skills are rusty, fallen aside before the more hands on duties that rebuilding the Swamp has required.

"Oh, this one is new!" Sausage immediately changes the subject, pointing at one of the skulls hanging on the wall of the hall. It's some kind of middling-sized land animal...a sheep maybe? with poppies filling the eye sockets and woven in a crown, there are delicate lines of gold painted across the surface of the bleached bone.

Katherine beams, her irritation at the rudeness forgotten (or at least set aside, fae never truly forget breaches of etiquette) "It is! It's a gift from a childhood friend," she looks fondly upon the skull for a moment. "We've been reconnecting lately."

Sausage nods sagely, "It is always good to spend time with your friends."

"It is," Katherine's ears twitch and her wings flutter briefly before she resumes walking. "Which is why we are going to fix this."

She leads them down the hall towards her library, a room so thoroughly warded that Jimmy can feel the magic against his scales when he passes through the door in an echo of the fae-realm boundaries.

It is a cozy room, despite the elegance and delicacy. It makes Jimmy feel out of place and reminds him a little bit of Lizzie's war room, if a better lit and less damp version. Every corner is full of plants and flowers and books and crystals, and blessedly free of guards and staff and other judging eyes. It's just Jimmy and Katherine and Sausage and the Elvenking sitting in the corner.

Jimmy may or may not do a full and proper double take.

Huge white and black wings, glittering obsidian antlers, an incongruous cup of tea on the side table. Apparently this meeting has interrupted the...reading time? of the King of Rivendell. Jimmy grits his teeth at the presence of one more ally for Sausage and turns his attention to the other two rulers instead. He'll worry about the Elvenking if they decide to become a problem.

In retrospect, Xornoth probably should have left as soon as Katherine escorted Sausage and The Codfather into her library, her expression tense and serious despite the cheerful tone to her chatter but in all honesty they were so startled at first that they froze. Now its been just long enough it would be too awkward to get up and leave. And the others are in-between them and the door, which just makes it worse. So they sit in the corner, tome in hand, trying their hardest to pretend they aren't getting a front row seat to the latest incarnation of the Mythland-Swamp dispute, featuring The Codfather's tangible rage and frustration over Katherine's stubborn neutrality.

(Which is understandable, but arguing a fae over their nature is a futile task and The Codfather seems too much a fool to realize it.)

The palpable hostility in the room has Xornoth's feathers fluffing against their will. Katherine is doing her best to mediate but she might as well try to climb a cliff-face in a blizzard. Sausage seems more interested in taunting The Codfather than coming to any kind of agreement and The Codfather himself stubbornly refuses to even consider any kind of negotiations until...a disc is returned?

Meaningless frivolity.

Xornoth isn't quite sure of the intricacies of the Mythland-Swamp conflict, since most of it happened during Rivendell's seclusion and so they don't even have any accounts of it other than what has been acquired in the past few decades. Accounts that are, somewhat understandably, for the most part slanted towards the Mythlandic perspective. (It is Mythland that Xornoth is allied with and it is Mythland that writes things down while The Swamp seems to lean heavily towards oral histories.) They don't think they've heard anything about a disc before, that might be new.

Both Sausage and The Codfather are known for their chaotic natures. If this does escalate to war (as both have threatened multiple times in the past hour) they will both involve their allies. As much fun as it would be to go toe-to-toe with the King of Mezalea in the arena, if Xornoth has to deal with wartime logistics because of these two acting like elflings not yet out of the home, they will just walk off into the mountains and wait for the winter to take them.

Do not pretend such reluctance. I see the truth.

Xornoth turns a page.

"At this point," The Codfather snarls, leaning on the back of the sofa he is standing by, looking inches away from leaping across the library to strangle Sausage (or try to at least) regardless of Katherine's policy on unapproved violence, his speech has been steadily growing more formal as the debate raged on, but also with a lot more insults in a multitude of languages. (Which Sausage had been more than happy to return.) "I don't think I'd trust even a-" he makes a series of humming, clicking syllables that Xornoth recognizes as Oceanic, but does not understand "-from you lot!"

That, of all things, is what grinds the entire conversation to a halt. Even Sausage stops his mocking dance around the edge of the room to look at The Codfather in confusion. "A who now?"

Katherine is frowning in concentration, mouthing words to herself while she tries to translate. "An...in-law treaty?"

"You know," The Codfather waves a hand dismissively. "A Binding Agreement."

At least he's speaking Mythlandic again, a language Xornoth supposedly understands.

"No, we don't know," Katherine still looks confused by also speculative. "Please explain. What kind of binding exactly is this?"

His voice has gained a slight sing-song cadence to it, even through what is clearly a slightly stumbling translation, that Xornoth recognizes from their own anytime they are reciting something from their childhood lessons, even to this day. They've never been able to quite shake the "student voice."

You are still only a student. And you will be so long as you refuse to take what is rightfully ours.

"Oh!" Katherine's face lights up with recognition and she bounces on her toes, wings aflutter. "I read about that! It's an Oceanic thing!"

Oceanic, not Swamp. Interesting.

The Codfather tilts his head to the side, radiating bewilderment despite the mask completely obscuring his features. "Um...yeah? Wait, do land-folk not do those? At all?"

Both Sausage and Katherine shake their head and Katherine expands verbally, talking right over the Codfather's hushed 'oh.'

"Not between empires, not since the Worldspawn Treaty. It's not uncommon for different families within an empire to form alliance through marriage though."

Xornoth wisely stays silent, though they can't quite help but touch the enchanted jewel fastening their cape at the shoulder. Only Katherine notices, but she's the only one of present company who knows what it means anyway.

"Oh," The Codfather seems a bit taken aback. "I thought it was just that it hadn't happened recently, not that you didn't at all."

"No," Sausage looks intrigued. "We don't."

"We could though," Katherine says suddenly, looking ecstatic. "The treaty just rendered those kinds of alliances of limited use, it didn't forbid them. What about a marriage truce between The Wither Rose Alliance and The Swamp!"

All three of them stare at the faerie queen like she's crazy. (At least, Xornoth is assuming that's what The Codfather's emotions are.) Sausage's eyebrows alone are conveying enough skepticism for the whole room. The Codfather's tail swishes uneasily.

Like a fish on a hook.

Sausage latches onto the movement with a smirk. "Aw! Do you not want to marry me, Jimmy?"

"I would rather move to the desert," The Codfather says without hesitation. "Or the Nether."

"Maybe not the two of you," Katherine says, even her spiteful optimism clearly powerless against the reality of what the outcome of that would be. Wise of her. Xornoth doesn't trust them to not kill each other before they make it to the wedding night. If they even made it to the wedding itself. "We are trying to make peace, not break it irreparably. But the Wither Rose Alliance is the largest alliance. Surely something can be arranged. For a...Binding Agreement the two parties have to be of equal or near-equal standing, right?"

"Well yes, but-"

"So," she says triumphantly, cutting The Codfather off before he can even get started. "One of the other emperors?"

There is a moment of silence as they all contemplate, even Sausage looking more focused than usual.

They are going to hurt themselves, trying that hard to utilize what little intelligence they have.

"Fwhip?" Sausage eventually offers, somewhat unsure, but also clearly just trying for a reaction.

And he gets one; a loud, rattly, snarling hiss that, despite usually considering The Codfather's threat level somewhere between "negligible" and "non-existent", Xornoth find themself sitting up straighter and even has Sausage taking a step back, visibly startled. Deep in the corner of their mind that Xornoth does their best to ignore, a shudder of disquiet resonates for a moment before being cut off.

Katherine's eyes are wide and, seemingly without realizing it, she takes to the air slightly, hovering over the floor, set to evade any attacks. Xornoth realizes that their hand is on the hilt of their sword and slowly, so as not to draw attention, they withdraw it back to their book. Their wings stay mantled, primaries brushing against he walls of their alcove.

"Okay, not Fwhip," Katherine says hurriedly, slowly dropping back down to the floor and smoothing her skirt out in a nervous gesture she's had since she was small. Usually she does better at controlling herself. She'd had the unphased exterior trained into her well before Xornoth ever met her and, however amiable and relaxed she likes to appear, they know its always there beneath.

If we pinned her wings to the wall like a butterfly and made her watch, that would phase her.

Xornoth contemplates smashing the side of their head into the wall. Unconsciousness has about a 50/50 chance of bringing peace and quiet with it. Unfortunately, the hangings in this library nook are imported from Rivendell, several layers of thick woolen brocade. It probably wouldn't be a very effective attempt. And would have them looking crazy in front of two allies and a...not quite enemy. (Though if they don't sort this out that will probably be changing very soon.)

Let there be war, one step closer to our full power.

Katherine has moved on. "What about Gem?"

Sausage snorts a laugh but also looks a little terrified at the idea of even suggesting such a thing. Perhaps the wisest he's been all day, based off what Xornoth has gathered about what seems to amount to a neighbors' spat between him and The Codfather. (Albeit a neighbors spat with centuries of animosity behind it and that is now threatening war.)

The Codfather shakes his head a little frantically, the copper-beaded tassels on the side of the mask clinking against the trident slung across his back. "She's scary."

He seems to realize that he said that out loud and quickly scrambles like a fish suffocating on a rock to cover for it. "And, uh, Great Wizard isn't a title with a lot of..." He flounders a bit. "There could be a new Great Wizard tomorrow, if someone beat her. It has to be a more permanent title."

Personally, Xornoth finds the likelihood of anyone replacing Gemini Tay at any point during a mortal lifetime (and possibly longer) very, very unlikely. It takes a lot to outshine bringing the dragons back. But The Codfather is right. And not only is Gem scary, she's also mean. Which most people don't realize because she spends so much time keeping Fwhip and Sausage from getting themselves killed. Xornoth has been to enough Wither Rose meetings to fear her though. She would eat The Codfather alive.

They do also find themself a little bit impressed, they hadn't thought he had that level of awareness of the internal workings o the other kingdoms.

If we gutted him like a fish he'd squeal so nicely.

It's been a while since Xornoth turned a page. They turn a page.

"Pearl can't be that closely tied to any other ruler," Katherine keeps going. "Too many people across the Empires rely on their trade with her and it isn't fair to your people to risk their well-being that way."

Honestly, if it came to war, Xornoth is fairly certain that Pearl would fight to remain neutral. It would destroy her, being unable to help her friends. Rip that golden heart of hers right out of her chest and shred it in the dust, but so many people from all the lands depend on Helianthia's crops and herds to remain fed. And her sense of duty, to her own people and all the others would take precedence over her loyalty to her friends, and that would kill her swifter than any blade.

If the war did not destroy her lands, and her with them, first.

The page in their white-knuckled grip begins to tear on the edge.

Rip them all to pieces, give the farmer the fight she wants.

Rivendell would follow Helianthia, Xornoth acknowledges. They are not as selfless as Pearl. And even if they were, they could not condemn Rivendell to another harsh winter of starvation and death. They would stand to defend her against all comers (and there would be many who came, lured by the resources she guarded) both as a friend and as a political alliance. Rivendell is not back to the point of being able to sustain themselves, not if the winters continue to worsen the way they have been. Loathe as they are to admit it, even inside their own head where no one can hear.

Well, no one but-

Wheat fields burn so easily, all it would take is a single spark in the right place and all of Mythland would be in flames.

Carefully, carefully, Xornoth sets their book down on the table beside them and places their hands in their lap. Katherine will stop allowing them to borrow her books if they start spontaneously combusting them. Hopefully she doesn't notice the slightly singed cover.

"Joey?" Now it is Katherine who's skepticism is betrayed in her voice and Sausage actually snorts a laugh. All three of them look over at Xornoth, though The Codfather quickly looks away again.

Free us of the silly bird.

"Good luck with that," Sausage says, giggling, and waggles his eyebrows at Xornoth. They pretend to not see, giving their full attention to the tapestry on the wall beside them in a vain attempt at pretending that their painfully un-subtle affair is not the most gossiped about topic among the emperors at present.

This is an old one, probably gifted by their grandparents to the House Blossom Lady of the time. The knot-work symbol in the corner is one they are unfamiliar with, not the signature of any artisan from their lifetime.

"And Xornoth is already married," Katherine doesn't acknowledge Sausage's behavior, beyond an annoyed look, which is probably for the best.

The Codfather jerks his head sharply to the side, "and that's all the royals in your alliance." He sounds almost smug. "None of them work."

And that is when Xornoth makes what they will refer to for centuries to come as "The Mistake." They pick their book back up and affect disinterest as they impulsively decide to wipe the smug grin they are imagining off The Codfather's face. "There is my brother."

There is a long moment of silence. Xornoth eventually looks up and gets their first inkling of how badly they might have just messed up when they see the astonished expression on Sausage's face, and the slowly dawning delight on Katherine's. They stubbornly ignore the blank cod-face staring directly at them.

Why do you consistently choose to prove your incompetence.

"Your brother is alive?" Sausage says but is cut off by Katherine.

"Oh!" she says, bouncing on her toes, hands clasped under her chin. "That's perfect!"

Chapter Two [TBA]

Chapter Three [TBA]

#marriage of state au #solidaritygaming #xornoth #empires smp #flower husbands #empires s1 #katherineelizabeth #mythicalsausage #MoS Icons Arc #marriage of state fanfic #rain rambles #i am so excited to finally start posting this au #literally shaking #aroace author writes massive fallen fantasy au featuring marriages of convenience and politics #it goes exactly the way you would imagine #happy valentines day nerds #mos: fic

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itsabouttimex2 · 1 month

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In your opinion who is most likely to be scary Yandere for you? Like what is the most terrifying Yandere that you are GLAD that you are not their obsessions?

Oh, this is an interesting question! I’m happy to answer. There’s four in total to go over here- and thank you for asking!

I’ve only written twice for Huntsman, (mostly because I can’t find gifs for him) but I genuinely find him to be the scariest Lego Monkie Kid yandere. His obsession with you is based almost entirely around your skills, either as a hunter equal to him or as prey worthy of pursuit. The love present between is mutual, in a way- grindstones alike, whetting your skills in lethal pursuit and escape. You invite his predation, then struggle to escape it. It’s a perpetual, equal race to the mastery of his and your respective skills, hunting and escaping.

If Huntsman does catch you, he’ll likely end with him stuffing your body as a dinner table prop or having you for dinner outright. At least he’s got a nice recipe for you.

Then again, you might just do the same to him if you win.

Either way, neither of you will ever forget the impact that the other has made on you.

Unlike Huntsman above, Tang Sanzang (also criminally few gifs) isn’t on this list because his intention is to harm you, or because he’s willing to follow through with actual butchery of your physical being-

No, it’s because he will win. There’s no escape from the pious pilgrim. He finds you, snatches you up, snaps a golden circlet or two onto your body somewhere, then forces you along on his journey, intending to make something better of you.

And after enough tightening sutras and lectures and escape attempts that are thwarted by his loyal disciples… you break. Confidence, stubbornness and rebellion can only last so long before you are left wearied and in need of comfort.

One moment you’re sniffling and clutching at the bands that cover your wrists, the skin long worn raw from repeated punishments. You stand on shaky feet with your head bowed, trying to stay strong in your quest to abandon this long, arduous journey.

The next moment you’ve got your head in his lap, sobbing your eyes out into the pants of his cossack. You apologize for every last thing you can think of, desperate for his kind touch and forgiveness. Sanzang offers you both in plentitude, his hands stroking down your hair and rubbing at the bands that have tortured your wrists for so long.

He’ll hold you close the rest of the day and then all through the night, his gentle fingers patching your wounds with herbal paste and untangling the knots in your hair.

And you’ll wonder why you ever wanted to leave in the first place.

Power, wealth, status. Big Mama has all three in abundance. She’s got a collection of mystic baubles and magical curios as far as the eye can see. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of servants and slaves gladiators.

And she’s very, very, cunning.

The webs she weaves to deceive are more than tangible- they’re snared to achieve a position where you’re forced into submission.

Big Mama will have you.

With an arcane bibelot to tamper with your mind and leave you unsettled. Using a rather disposable servant to stage a rescue that leaves you indebted. Sending a Yōkai to demolish your workplace and leave you in desperate need of her ‘generous’ offer to sign you on to her staff.

By brute, overwhelming force, if she must personally collect you. If you fight her too much here, she’ll leave you strung up from the ceiling with web over your eyes and ears to deprive you of your senses. Only for a while, of course. It wouldn’t do to damage her new little darling too much, even if her method of procural leaves you bruised and battered.

No matter the manner, she will have you.

(I held off on writing for this guy for the longest time, because I wasn’t sure if my followers would enjoy darker content. But I got the go ahead!)

Dabi’s a monster. He’s a man who prioritizes the downfall of his father above all else, and he’s a mile-long sadistic streak to pair with it.

He enjoys hurting people. Innocent people, to boot. No regard for their friends, for their families. No regard for the snuffing of precious, fragile life.

His mind is fractured from the strain and heartbreak of being cast aside by his father, replaced by his brother, and forgotten by his family in short turn.

You’re a outlet for Dabi, not someone he loves.

I don’t think he’s capable of love anymore.

You scream when his flaming fingers jab deep into your skin. You cry when his fingernail cut into your skin and ignite. He grabs big fistfuls of your hair and burns them off, chuckling as you sob, stinking of charred keratin.

His touch is tricky, mixing torturous pain with gentle relief. His softer actions are not true kindness- he’s only patching your wounds and stroking your hair so you’ll never now exactly what his next touch will consist of. Is he going to beat you? Pat your head? Rip out your fingernails?

You can’t know, not with the deliberate duality he displays. Every time he comes close to you, you tremble and whimper, smelled of burning hair and charred flesh. And Dabi hurts you, again and again and again.

But he won’t kill you. If there’s even a single, infinitesimally small speck of love left in his heart, it is dedicated solely to not killing you.

That is not a mercy.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere LMK #Huntsman #Yandere Huntsman #Tang Sanzang #Yandere Tang Sanzang #Yandere ROTTMNT #Yandere Big Mama #Yandere MHA #Yandere Dabi #TW: Torture

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c-e-d-dreamer · 1 year

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Falling For Your Fools Gold: Chapter 13

A/N: Can y'all believe there's only one more chapter and then the epilogue remaining of this story? Wild. But I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! The ending is dedicated especially to @dustjacketmusings who said she'd only forgive me for the last chapter if there was murder. Which is a great segue into TW: murder, blood/violence, and attempted execution.

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Nesta stares at her window, at the sheer curtains blowing gently in the breeze that pours into her room. She can see the blue sky that stretches far and wide beyond the window, the sun as it begins its steady climb high above. It’s clearly going to be a perfect, late summer day, but all Nesta feels is cold numbness. It settles like ice in her gaping chest, her heart a throbbing and aching thing between her ribs.

Nesta tilts her head just enough that she can bury her nose in the fabric at her collar. She takes a shaky breath in, the scent of pine and burning embers flooding her senses and seeping beneath her skin. If she closes her eyes tight, she swears that she can almost feel the rocking of the sea beneath her, swears she can almost hear the sound of crashing waves against a wooden hull. And if she really concentrates, she swears she can almost feel a warm body pressed along her spine, strong arms holding her close, and slow, sleepy breaths fanning across her cheek.

She lets out a soft snort, barely a derisive laugh, as her eyes snap back open and reveal the truth of her situation. She never thought there’d be a day when she’d feel like a stranger in her own room, but then again, Nesta supposes she never thought she’d fall in love with a pirate captain either.

A whimper tears its way free past Nesta lips at that thought, at the thought of never seeing Cassian again, and she lifts her hands to press the heels against her eyes, determined to stop any more tears from falling. She takes a deep, steadying breath, and allows determination to settle like steel through her bones. She can’t let this get to her, won’t let this get to her. She’s stronger than this.

She just needs a plan.

Perhaps she can use everything that’s happened as an excuse to stall her father and Tomas, to delay the wedding while she “recovers.” It will give her the time to secure passage out of Adriata. All she needs to do is find someone with a ship, someone willing to take her to one of the port cities that Cassian and his crew are likely to stop in at some point.

“Nesta?”

Nesta turns her head over her shoulder, finding Feyre peeking her head through the bedroom door. Her youngest sister offers a small, tentative smile when Nesta meets her gaze, and then she’s stepping fully into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

“Father said you arrived late last night and to let you rest, but I wanted to see you,” Feyre explains, clambering up onto the bed as though they’re children again. “Are you wearing a man’s shirt?”

The sudden question and subject change has a genuine smile tugging at Nesta’s lip as she sits up properly. “You haven’t seen me in how long and that’s the first thing you ask?”

Feyre rolls her eyes, but she slips under the blankets beside Nesta, and when she meets her oldest sister’s eyes again, her face has gone serious. “Are you alright?”

Nesta drops her own eyes to her hands, fingers curling and twisting within the blankets. She considers lying. It would be so easy for the words to tumble past her lips, to weave the web about Tomas saving her and being happy to be back in Adriata. But though she, Elain, and Feyre had been through so much, though they had sometimes grown too long of claws through the years, they never lied. Not to each other.

“I will be,” Nesta finally answers.

Feyre offers a small, sympathetic smile at the response. She opens her mouth as though to say something more, but the opening of Nesta’s bedroom door again draws both women’s attention. They turn their heads just in time to watch Elain slip inside, the middle Archeron blinking a few times in surprise before a small smile takes over her face.

“I see we both had the same idea,” Elain tells Feyre as she too clambers up onto the bed to join her sisters. Once she’s settled on Nesta’s other side, she reaches a hand out, curling her fingers around her older sister’s. “I’m so glad that you’re home safe now. We were so worried.”

Shame claws its way through Nesta’s throat at her sister’s words, at the sincerity shining in her brown eyes, and she ducks her head and chokes out, “thanks.”

“I can’t imagine what it must have been like,” Elain continues, frowning as she shakes her head. “Taken by pirates? That must have been terrifying.”

“Surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as you think,” Nesta answers honestly, barely swallowing down the emotions threatening to spill over, the lump trying to form in her throat, as memories of the crew, of Cassian, are forcefully pulled back to the front of her mind.

“Speaking of pirates,” Feyre jumps in to say, leaning forward and dropping her voice. “I snuck off to the market square the other day, and I overheard some of the fishermen talking. Apparently, there’s a new pirate sailing the waters. A female. They called her Lady Death.”

It takes everything within Nesta to keep down her amused laugh, and she has to press her lips together firmly to stop from smirking. She can already imagine how Gwyn, Emerie, and Cresseida would react to stories of her being spread, to her name making it back to Adriata before she did.

“That’s absurd,” Elain scoffs, with a roll of her eyes. “There would never be ladies on a pirate ship.”

“The pirate crew I was with had women,” Nesta corrects, suddenly feeling offended on Cassian’s behalf.

“Really?” Feyre asks excitedly.

“You can’t run off and join a pirate crew, Feyre,” Elain teases lightly, laughter coloring her tone.

“Well, obviously. I don’t even know where I’d find a pirate crew,” Feyre grumbles before her face lights up again and her head snaps back toward Nesta with a smirk. “Unless Nesta can tell us the secrets to finding one.”

“Feyre,” Elain scolds, giving her younger sister a firm yet outraged look. She turns back to Nesta with a sympathetic smile, squeezing her hand again. “Don’t worry, Nesta. You don’t have to worry anymore about that Lord of Bloodshed or any more pirates. I’m sure that Lady Death will be brought to justice soon too.”

Nesta opens her mouth, ready to thank her sister for her concern, however misplaced it may be, before Elain’s words fully snag in Nesta’s mind. “How did you know I was with the Lord of Bloodshed?”

Elain and Feyre both frown at the question, sharing a look between them before Elain answers, “they brought the pirate captain back to Adriata with you. He’s going to be punished for his crimes.”

The world falls away from beneath Nesta’s feet, and for a moment, she feels like she’s free falling. Her head spins, all the air sucked out of her lungs, out of the room, as the walls press in around her. She tries to breathe around the pain flaring through her chest, through the black spots threatening to press into her vision, and somehow is able to squeeze words out again.

“What?”

“I thought you knew that Tomas had captured him when he rescued you. He’s going to hang for his piracy and for kidnapping you.”

“When?” Nesta demands, her heart already starting to pound an erratic beat.

“The hanging is scheduled for noon, just like always,” Feyre explains slowly, tilting her head curiously. “Nesta, are you alright?”

Nesta wants to scream. She wants to scream at her sisters that no, she is decidedly not alright. Nothing is alright. This can’t be happening. The crew was meant to be safe. That was why Nesta left with Tomas and came back to Adriata. That was why she walked away from the life she’d built on that ship, from the happiness she had found. She did it all so that the crew would be safe, and that includes Cassian.

He can’t die, not because of her. Losing him when she stepped off that ship was hard enough, but this? And it being all her fault? No. She refuses to let that happen. She’ll use every trick and honeyed word in her arsenal. She’ll plead and promise Tomas whatever he wants if she has to.

She will not let Cassian die.

Nesta snaps her head back toward the window, eying how high the sun has already climbed in the sky. It can’t be long now. She needs to hurry. Without another word, she throws the blankets off her legs and clambers off the bed, rushing toward her wardrobe and the dresses hanging there.

“I need you to help me dress,” Nesta requests, although the tone of her voice leaves it sounding more like a demand. She can’t find it within herself to care.

“Nesta, what's wrong?” Elain asks, decidedly not moving from her spot on the bed.

“I don't have time to explain,” Nesta snaps, pulling out one of her dresses and yanking it on over her shirt.

Elain looks less than impressed by the non-response, her face practically exasperated, but at least, Feyre clambers up off the bed. She steps up behind Nesta and helps tug the dress into place, working through the laces with deft fingers. Elain lets out a soft sigh, but she too climbs off the bed. She grabs Nesta's brush and golden pins off her vanity table, and starts to help Nesta get her hair into a semblance of order.

With her sisters' help, Nesta is ready in record time. She barely waits for Elain to slide the last pin into place before she's picking her skirts up and rushing for the door. She's half aware of Elain exclaiming her name in shock, of Feyre's footfalls following her through the winding corridors, but all Nesta can think about is Cassian.

As she bursts out the front door of the manor house and runs through the streets of Adriata, she swears her heart starts to beat in time with his name. A steady thrum of Cassian Cassian Cassian. And with every step closer to the Fort, every slap of her feet against the cobblestone, that beat grows louder, grows faster, grows desperate, urging her to keep moving.

Nesta's chest is heaving by the time she reaches the entrance to the Fort. The soldiers guarding either side eye her curiously, but Nesta refuses to let it faze her, determination blazing too hot, too bright, through her veins. She takes a moment to take a deep breath, to finally slow her steps. Then, with her spine straight, shoulders back, and head held high, Nesta walks through the large, stone archway and into the Fort.

“Nesta!” Feyre's voice calls before her youngest sister is settling into step beside her and looping their arms together. “Since when have you been able to run so fast?”

“I've been training,” Nesta explains simply, leading them both through the corridor until they step back into the sun and the main square of the Fort.

“Training for what?”

Nesta doesn't have time to deal with answering her sister's pestering questions. A wooden platform has been erected at the center of the main square, the executioner already standing atop it and waiting with cold indifference. Above the platform, a rope hangs down, a threat and a promise of what's to come. A decent sized crowd has already formed around the platform, from Adriata townsfolk taking time away from their shops and market stalls to the soldiers standing at attention and scattered along the inner walls of the Fort. Nesta's eyes scan the crowd, trying to spot her father or Tomas. She's sure that wherever they're standing, they are most likely together, and once she finds them, she can begin pleading her case for sparing Cassian.

A cacophony of cheers and jeers rise from the crowd, and Nesta snaps her head toward the sound just in time to watch the sea of bodies part and create a path. Two guards step forward, and walking in between them is Cassian. His hands are bound behind his back, his head hanging low over his shoulders and his loose hair obscuring his face.

Nesta feels like she can’t breathe watching him get closer and closer to that platform. The urge to call out his name claws at her throat, but when she parts her lips, no sound comes out. If she thought her heart was pounding before, it’s beating double time now, twisting and squeezing until Nesta’s whole chest seems to radiate pain.

Urgency prickles along Nesta’s skin now more than ever. She can’t handle watching Cassian take those final steps up onto the platform. Can’t stand the sight of his shoulders slumped and hunched as though in defeat. Doesn’t even want to think about the look on his face as they settle that rope around his neck. She just has to find Tomas. Or perhaps, if she makes a big enough scene—

“Lady Nesta.”

Nesta turns to find a man now standing in front of her. He’s dressed in dark finery, a coat of rich, black fabric and silver thread. A hat hides most of the dark strands of his hair, the wide brim of it casting a shadow across his face and leaving his eyes looking almost violet. Nesta is sure that she’s never seen this man in her life, but with the way his eyes flicker, the way the corner of his mouth twitches up in the barest hint of a smirk, it’s clear that he knows her. Even more so when the man sketches into a bow.

“My lord,” Nesta answers politely, dipping into a curtsey.

“And who might this absolutely lovely woman with you be?” the man asks, turning his attention to Nesta’s left.

Nesta frowns slightly at the question. “My youngest sister, Feyre.”

“Feyre darling,” the man all but purrs, taking Feyre’s hand in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “A pleasure.”

“You as well, my lord,” Feyre offers, pink spilling across her cheeks.

“I must say, as much as I’d love to stay and speak with such beautiful women,” the man continues, daring to wink at Feyre. “I hope you ladies can excuse me.”

Another bow, and the man steps away from them and toward the crowd. Nesta watches curiously as instead of merely joining the onlookers, the man actively makes his way through the sea of bodies. Even more curious is that Nesta spots another man doing the same a little further away. Much like the first man, he’s dressed in all black, a hat hiding his face as he moves through the crowd and around the bodies gathered like a shadow.

Both men seem set on reaching the platform where Cassian is standing, and it hits Nesta suddenly who they must be, how the first man must have known her name. His brothers. Nesta’s attention snaps to the pirate captain up on the platform at last, and she almost wants to laugh. Despite the rope currently hanging around his neck, despite the bruise purpling the skin of his temple and cheek, despite the literal verdict decree being read aloud to a jeering crowd, Cassian is currently wearing that cocksure smirk of his.

“You now have the opportunity to speak any final words,” the executioner informs him.

“The only words I have are for the Commodore,” Cassian declares, his gaze darting to where Nesta assumes Tomas must be standing. “I want to commend you on your attempt at bringing me to justice, but I regret to inform you that you’ve once again failed.”

A confused murmur breaks out from the crowd before Tomas’ voice rings out above them all, “just hang the bastard already!”

The executioner listens to Tomas’ demand, the platform beneath Cassian’s feet suddenly falling away. At the same moment, a dagger goes flying through the air. It cuts clean through the rope, embedding deep into the wooden pole of the platform and sending Cassian tumbling to the ground. For a moment, there’s only stunned silence, and then all chaos breaks loose.

Nesta doesn’t waste another second. She lunges for the soldier closest to her, reaching for his sword and yanking it free. The soldier whips his attention toward her, eyes wide in surprise, but Nesta is swinging the sword with ease, cutting him down where he stands.

“Nesta!” Feyre exclaims.

Knowing that her sister can take care of herself, Nesta doesn’t look back and rushes into the fray. Shouts and the sounds of metal on metal echo off the stone walls surrounding the main square of the Fort. The crowd has started to disperse, everyone rushing toward the safety of the inner walls of the Fort and away from the fighting, and Nesta shoulders her way against the current of bodies, striking down soldiers as she gets closer and closer to the center of the square.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Cassian’s brothers distracted and engaged in their own fights, so she continues to push forward until she reaches the platform. Cassian is still sprawled across the ground; although, he’s worked his arms around so they’re bound across his front rather than behind his back. Nesta releases a relieved breath at seeing him alright, the sight a soothing balm that calms her thrumming heart. Cassian raises his head away from where he was focused on getting his hands free and meets her gaze as she steps closer. A wide, slow smirk starts to pull across his face, but then his attention dances over Nesta’s shoulders, eyes widening.

“Nes,” Cassian warns.

Nesta whirls around just in time to watch a soldier rush toward them. She resets her stance and lifts her sword, readying for a fight, but the soldier’s steps stutter to a stop. The soldier’s jaw slackens, his mouth open and closing as he merely stares at Nesta, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. With a scoff, Nesta rolls her eyes and swings her sword, easily disarming the soldier. With a twist of her wrist, she brings the hilt of her sword across his temple, and the soldier crumbles against the cobblestones unconscious.

Nesta moves to turn back to Cassian, but calluses sliding against the skin of her ankle have her jolting in surprise. She snaps her attention down only to find Cassian at her feet. With his still bound hands, he lifts the skirts of her dress up higher, not even bothering to meet her gaze.

“What are you doing?” Nesta demands, kicking her leg out to dislodge his grip.

“Where is your dagger?” Cassian shoots back, his tone almost exasperated.

“I left it on your ship.”

“Have I taught you nothing, princess?”

With another roll of her eyes, Nesta leans down. She slides the blade of her sword between Cassian’s hands, tugging until the rope tears. Cassian untangles the remaining rope from around his wrists, tossing it aside, before finally clambering up to his feet. He steps over to the unconscious soldier, picking up the discarded sword.

Cassian opens his mouth, as though he plans to say something more, but before he can, more soldiers rush toward them, none of the hesitation from the earlier soldier about fighting a woman to be seen. Nesta and Cassian settle back to back, moving in tandem and around one another as they fight off the onslaught. It’s like a dance known only to the two of them, each step, each swing of their swords, in time with a melody heard only between their souls.

Nesta ducks under an arching sword, spinning to swipe at the offending soldier’s legs. The sound of metal on metal echoes especially close to her ear, and when she turns her head to the right, she finds someone has blocked a sword that was careening straight for her shoulder. Her eyes follow along the blade that saved her until she meets a pair of hazel eyes, different yet so similar to the pair she’s come to love.

“You must be Nesta,” Cassian’s brother offers, using his free hand to pull a dagger from his belt and sinking it into the soldier’s gut. “Azriel.”

Nesta blinks a few times in surprise, at Azriel’s cool calmness despite the chaos around them, before she shakes herself back to the moment. She kicks at the soldier until he goes crumbling to the ground, clutching at his gut where the dagger went in. She stands back to her full height, rolling her shoulders and readying for the next soldier to step forward.

It seems that both of Cassian’s brothers have been pushed closer, the brother that spoke to her earlier, Rhysand Nesta realizes he must be, now swinging his sword with flare on Cassian’s other side. It has Nesta’s hackles rising as her eyes dart between the soldiers pressing in around them, at the way they’re being all but herded. Even worse, the only thing at their backs is the outward facing wall of the Fort, the raging sea and the cliffs just below.

“Please tell me you have a plan,” Nesta hisses, gaze darting between Cassian’s two brothers. “Or are we to fight our way out of the Fort and hope for the best?”

“Fight our way out of the Fort?” Rhysand parrots, taking a moment to finish off the soldier squaring off against him before brushing a hand against his sleeve like he’s merely discarding some lint rather than the soldier’s blood from the fabric. “There’s a ship waiting in the bay. We merely need to jump.”

Nesta snaps her head toward Rhysand, her jaw slackening as she asks dryly, “jump? That’s your big plan? And what of the rocks below?”

“Don’t hit the rocks,” Rhysand shoots back as if it’s obvious. He steps over to the ledge of the Fort, between the large, stone pillars there, and jumps, clearly trying to prove his point.

Despite the fact he can no longer see her, Nesta still can’t stop her scoff or her eye roll. Azriel smirks at the reaction, as he too shifts closer to the edge of the Fort. He shares some sort of knowing look with Cassian, tossing one last dagger with perfect aim, and vanishes below. Cassian inches closer to the edge next, and Nesta keeps one eye on him while still eying the remaining soldiers around them.

She knows that once he squeezes through and jumps, it will be her turn. Knows that there really will be no going back once she takes that leap. Everyone in this Fort will have seen her fighting alongside the pirates, will watch her as she flees with them. There will be no denying, no pretending that she was taken against her will. It’s a firm line in the sand, and Nesta knows that she should feel trepidation about crossing it. She knows that she should feel anxious about leaving her sisters, her life, and Adriata behind for good, but she doesn’t.

Instead, Nesta feels excitement thrum through her veins, her soul feeling almost entirely at peace at the prospect. The sea below seems to call her name, a whisper of Nesta Nesta Nesta as the waves crash along the cliff face and rocks. Already, Nesta imagines stepping foot onto the deck again, imagines the sounds of the wind billowing through the sails, imagines the feel of the salty breeze kissing her skin. She thinks of her Valkyries, of Baz and the rest of the crew. She thinks of the safety and happiness she found in the captain’s cabin, and her heart swells deep between her ribs at the thought of returning there, some invisible string tugging until she’s stepping back and back closer to Cassian and that ledge.

“Nesta.”

Nesta turns her head to find that Tomas has finally deemed to join the fray, to join his men that have already fallen. His eyes sweep over Nesta’s frame, taking in her raised sword, the blood now staining the skirts of her dress. He looks shocked for a moment at the state of her, but then his face is morphing, an almost pitying smile taking over his face.

“Nesta,” Tomas repeats, holding out an expectant hand toward her.

The way he says her name is patronizing, condescending, like he’s scolding a child. Like she has no idea what she’s doing. Like she’s just some silly girl making some silly mistake, and he’s disappointed in her. It ignites her blood, makes it boil until there’s no stopping the scowl that takes over her face.

“It’s Lady Death now,” Nesta declares, raising her sword between them with no hesitation, the threat clear in her tone, in her stance.

Cassian lets out a dark chuckle behind her, and Nesta can already picture the way the pirate captain must be staring Tomas down, all smug pride. All at once, the niceties drop away from Tomas’s expression. That cold cruelty bleeds back into his eyes, his bottom lip curling up as he sneers.

“Why am I not surprised?” Tomas asks derisively. “I should have known when we found you in the captain’s cabin. Should have known that you’d lower yourself to a bastard pirate’s whore. Did you enjoy yourself? Keeping a criminal’s bed warm?”

“What did you just say to her?” Cassian growls, stepping around Nesta with his own sword raised, a dangerous glint to his hazel eyes.

“Cassian, don’t.”

Cassian turns his head back toward Nesta, the confusion clear in his expression, but then his gaze dances over Nesta’s face. Understanding floods his eyes, a smirk tugging up his lips. He tosses his stolen sword aside, no longer needing it. Tomas raises an eyebrow at the gesture, smirking himself, his face the picture perfect of male arrogance, but when Cassian steps around him, pulling the Commodore’s arms back and holding him in place, that smile starts to slip.

Tomas tries to shift, tries to pull free from the grasp, but Cassian is too strong. His attention snaps back to Nesta, and while he clearly looks confused, it’s the anger simmering just beneath, the anger and cruelty Nesta knows all too well, that drives her to step forward. She twists her wrist so she can press the blade of her own sword against Tomas’ throat. His eyes widen, the color draining from his face, and Nesta relishes in it. All the things he’s said to her, all the things he’s done and tried to do, and now here he stands. Afraid.

“Do you remember the ball the Beddors hosted? When you cornered me out in the gardens?” Nesta asks lowly, pressing her blade tighter until blood starts to trickle down Tomas’ skin. “I asked you to stop, and you told me to beg. Well now, I want to hear you beg. Beg for your life, Tomas.”

Tomas swallows hard, the movement causing the sword to dig just a bit deeper. “Nesta…”

Nesta doesn’t even let him finish speaking, slicing the sword clean across his throat. Tomas splutters for a moment, but when Cassian releases his hold, the Commodore goes crumbling to the cobblestone, his eyes unblinking. Nesta can feel his blood on her cheeks, and her chest heaves along with her pounding heart as she stares down at him, but it’s pure relief that pours through her veins.

Fingers beneath her chin have Nesta’s gaze rising and meeting a pair of hazel eyes, the gold of them practically burning beneath the afternoon sun. Cassian’s hand shifts to cradle her cheek, his thumb wiping gently at the blood still marring her skin. Nesta expects him to say something, to ask if she’s alright just like that day back in Windhaven, but instead Cassian crashes his mouth against hers. Nesta clutches at his arms, pressing up onto her toes to meet the kiss with the same fervor. She pours every emotion, every word unsaid between them into that kiss, feeling the way Cassian does the same.

Too soon, the pirate captain is pulling away. He reaches down and squeezes Nesta’s hand, stepping around her to slip through the opening between the pillars and jumping over the ledge. Nesta’s gaze sweeps across the few remaining people still in the Fort, finding where her sister is sheltering. She tries to express everything, tries to offer an explanation through her expression, and she swears she can see understanding flicker in Feyre’s blue eyes. Swears the smallest hint of a smile tugs up Feyre’s lips. It’s enough.

With that, Nesta tosses her own sword down, the blade skittering along the cobblestones. She turns toward the Fort’s wall, stepping between the gap and eying the water and the rocks below. She takes a deep breath, her eyes falling shut as she sends one final prayer up to the Mother, and then Nesta jumps.

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @unlikelypersonalknight1 @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #pirates au #my fic

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captaincryolicious · 2 years

Text

Checkmate

➳ Heizou x flirty criminal gn!reader

➳ Oneshot ; 1.7k

➳ Kinda humor? ; Y/N is a big tease

He had it all planned out. In his mind, he already had you checkmate. Unfortunately for him, the tables seem to have turned. [11.10.2022]

Zep's Note ; This is pretty different from what I usually write so let's see how it does.

content under the cut | masterlist

The darkness that came after sundown usually lend itself as the perfect cover-up for many secrets. Hidden in the shadows, they laid dormant, unseen for most passers-by. But not for the keen detective, whose green eyes caught all that was so skillfully hidden. Even in circumstances darkened by the night, such as now, he unraveled stories and secrets. He was the best of the best, carrying out this task as if it were child’s play.

He ghosted through the streets of Inazuma City, the soles of his sandals barely making a sound against the pavement. His stride was careful yet confident, for he knew exactly where he was going. He spent weeks working from behind the screens, and this investigation was a long-winded one. He was up against a seasoned criminal, you, and he knew he had to be careful. He formulated a thorough plan, weaving a trap that would slowly catch you into a web of events, until he got you exactly where he wanted you.

Tonight was the night he was going to arrest you.

You were expecting to meet with an informant, a member of the criminal circuit. Heizou would corner you in the alleyway behind Komore Teahouse, at two am exactly. He had it all planned out. An actor, someone unknown and insignificant from the Tenryou Commission, earned your trust over the past few weeks. You, his wanted criminal, would come to the alley in expectation of sealing an important deal tonight. And that’s when he would arrest you, when the sheer surprise had you riveted to the ground, too shocked to move away from his binding handcuffs. It was a masterplan; foolproof, he even dared to call it.

The prodigy detective smiled confidently.

It was a few minutes until the clocktower would strike two. The lanterns that brought some light to their surroundings cast long shadows over the pavement. The alley came in view, a gaping black hole against the illuminated street. Heizou felt a bit nervous, despite the confidence he had in his plan. You weren’t going to escape, he told himself. You had slipped through the fingers of many predecessors, but you had played your little games long enough now. Never before had he failed to capture a suspect, and tonight wouldn’t be the first time.

Heizou slowed down, one hand flying to the silvery handcuffs on his belt as he approached the entrance. He couldn’t help but hold his breath, and he listened closely in an attempt to catch any signs of your presence. It was dead silent. Did he beat you there?

His eyes had to adjust to the darkness, now that there no longer were any lanterns. He sneaked into the alley, coming to an abrupt halt when he found a figure leaning against the wall. His heart jumped into his chest, the all too familiar rush of adrenaline he always felt when he stood face-to-face with a criminal. He moved closer, straightening his shoulders and getting ready to get his handcuffs. He was about to speak up, to introduce himself and announce the end of your freedom. It was a dead end, you had nowhere to run. But his words fell idle when you pushed yourself away from the wall.

“Oh?” you said. “Mr. Detective, I wasn’t expecting you here.”

You didn’t sound at all worried. In fact, if you were even panicking to begin with, you hid it well. The moonlight revealed just enough of your features to see the feigned surprise; a hand covering your parted lips, eyebrows quirked over your dangerously shimmering eyes.

Heizou was taken aback by your nonchalant greeting, and his eyes narrowed. Your words were a feint, it was as if you had anticipated his arrival despite the lie you told so clearly. How could that have happened? The detective let his mind run over his plan. Where did he go wrong? Well, it didn’t matter any longer. Though his plan proved to be not as foolproof as he had hoped for, the outcome was the same. He had you cornered.

He proceeded forward, but so did you. His footsteps were calm and calculated, while yours were bold and confident. You met halfway into the alley, and the amusement in your eyes had his confidence wavering. You stood so close to him, he could even feel your breath fanning his cheeks. With effort, he straightened his composure and cleared his throat.

“You’re under arrest,” he briskly spoke. He just wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

“That’s a good one, detective,” you chuckled. “I like men with humor.”

This wasn’t going to be easy, Heizou realized. He found himself hesitating, fingertips ghosting over the loops of his handcuffs. All he had to do was pursue this arrest, to put those cuffs around your wrists and take you to the Police Station. It was such a simple task, but executing it seemed like a challenge. Something about the look in your eyes had him frozen.

“So you’re the star of the Tenryou Commission, huh?” you began, leaning a little closer with a carefully fabricated look of curiosity on your face. Heizou backed off, but that didn’t impress you. “You are so cute to watch from a little distance, thinking you had this all planned out. But I must say, up close you are more… handsome.”

This wasn’t good. He felt his heart hammer in his ribcage, and he couldn’t bear to look at you any longer. He fought stubbornly to keep his eyes on you, a tight frown settling on his brows. Why was it so difficult to simply clasp the loops of his handcuffs around your wrists? He never had any troubles doing so before, what made you so different?

“I’ve heard great things about you, detective,” you purred, a cat-like grin on your features. “It’s such an honor to meet you, although…” You trailed off, the sly smile you wore widening. “...although I’m not seeing much of the reputation that precedes you. I have to admit, I was a little scared when I heard that you were after me, but you’re not all that bad.”

You were mocking him, and he seemed to have lost his voice. Somewhere in the city, the clocktower told those who were awake that it was two in the morning, and the sound echoed over the empty streets. But it was nothing compared to the sound of his beating heart, and he feared that it would jump out of his chest at this rate. You were having such an effect on him, with your beautiful eyes that sparkled with mischief and your lips that curved up in an everlasting smirk. The longer you talked in on him, the more he felt the heat rise to his cheeks. Finally, he averted his gaze.

You weren’t having it. Still smiling, you started walking, forcing the detective backward until he stood with his back against the wall of Komore Teahouse. His eyes widened when you placed your thumb underneath his chin to make him look at you again, and he took in a sharp breath.

“You’re so quiet, Mr. Detective. Cat got your tongue?” you crooned, coaxing up his face. Your eyes lit up with delight. “Aww, you’re blushing.”

Heizou was losing this game, he knew it. The bricks were cold against his skin through his thin white top, and a shiver ran down his spine. He had absolutely nothing to bring in against you, and you held the upper hand in this attempt to lure you in. It was getting frustrating. He wasn’t used to being outsmarted, let alone in a way like this.

“Just accept these damn handcuffs,” he brought out helplessly, and your laugh that followed was crystal clear.

“Tempting, very tempting,” you commented tauntingly. “I’m almost considering to hold out my wrists.”

You let go of his chin, and Heizou breathed out in relief. But you were close again, so close that your nose almost touched his and your hot breath tickled his parted lips. You gazed into his eyes, grinning widely. One of your hands came up to graze his cheek lightly, and he shuddered.

“Be a little more prepared next time, Shikanoin Heizou,” you cooed to his helpless face. “Show me how good you are, and maybe I’ll let you capture me.”

Your hands found his shoulders as you backed away, giving a light push that brought him softly against the wall. Smirking, you took a few steps away from him, blowing him a playful kiss before you skipped away from the flustered detective and vanished into the darkness. You were out of sight, covered by the shadows. Midnight harbored many secrets, and you just became one of those again.

Heizou released a shaky breath, letting the cold wall cool his hot body. He felt a little dizzy, and he couldn’t even find it in him to be mad at himself, too dazed by what had just happened. But with every breath he took, he came back to his senses a little more, and he found himself cursing under his breath angrily. He didn’t move away from the alley, remaining hidden in the darkness out of utter shame. He carried a furious blush on his cheeks, and his heart had long betrayed him. How was he supposed to face everyone at the headquarters tomorrow, when he showed up with empty hands? And even more so, what was he supposed to tell them? Surely, he wasn’t going to talk about how you had rendered him to a flustered mess, unable to function properly.

He had failed, and miserably so. And the worst part of all? He was unable to get you off his mind. Y/N, the first ever criminal to slip free from his grasp. The first person ever to let the butterflies soar in his stomach like that, the first person that had him blushing madly. He thought he had it all planned out, but you were one step ahead of him. You had owned this game.

You had him checkmate.

#genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact shikanoin heizou #genshin impact heizou #heizou genshin impact #shikanoin heizou x reader #heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou imagines #shikanoin heizou imagine #heizou imagine #heizou imagines

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jeanniebug623 · 4 months

Text

🕸️🕷️ Weaving the Web 🕷️🕸️

Chapter 2: Something's Missing…

The evac was taking too damn long according to Quaritch. When he was head of security, and still human, emergency air evacuation would have been completed in less than 45 minutes given their close proximity to Bridgehead. He was pacing angrily, his tail flipping wildly with every turn. The squad had the camp repacked in less than 10 minutes. At least he could rely on someone.

“Don’t worry, boss, won’t be long now.” Wainfleet said, checking his watch and glancing at Zdinarsk, who nodded to confirm the Samson was close while staring at her radar. Even Z-Dog had abstained from snapping her bright pink gum bubbles so as not to annoy the colonel.

Quaritch wanted to go off on a tirade about how they’d be halfway to base if he were still in charge, but his squad didn’t deserve that. He had loyal soldiers in his unit. Ja had immediately dropped the marine mode and worked on Spider. With the boy unconscious, the good doctor couldn’t remove his mask to even clean the bloody nose. He’d checked his heart rate, breathing, and done a quick brain scan with the rudimentary equipment he could carry in the field.

“He’ll need an MRI, CT, and neuroimaging.” Ja said, the only time Quaritch stopped leaving a path in the underbrush, “To start. And if you could get me the monitor reports from his…” He paused and his ears went back. “Questioning, it would-…”

“Consider it done.” Quaritch interrupted with a gruff tone. Anything to help Ja and the medical staff at Bridgehead figure out what brought on Spider’s sudden outburst. Outburst was a kind term for what they just witnessed.

Quaritch remembered a technician calling Spider ‘completely feral’ when he was first captured by the RDA. He screamed and cursed in English and Na’vi, tried to break the one-way mirror with the chair he’d been graciously offered then had taken away right after, and attempted to force open a security door that not even a dozen Na’vi could do. Quaritch saw that anger, but that was child’s play compared to the manic look in the boy’s eyes during the verbal assault.

“About goddamn time…” Quaritch growled when they heard the Samson coming inbound. They’d carefully moved Spider to a clearing so the aircraft could land instead of slinging him over his shoulder like the last time he transported the kid against his will.

“Someone grab the backboard.” Ja said to anyone close as he tucked the handheld brain scanner into a cargo pants pocket. But he was shouldered aside before anyone reached the aircraft to retrieve the stretcher.

“No time. Move out!” Quaritch said as he slid an arm under Spider’s back and knees, scooping him up easily and jogging over to the open side doors. He ducked as he shuffled towards the back of the Samson where there was more space to kneel on one knee and still hold the boy in his arms. He didn’t have many memories of holding the kid when he was an infant. Never thought he would get another chance...

The rest of the squad jumped on board and they were off. Back to the place Quaritch promised he’d keep Spider away from…

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

As much as Quaritch didn’t want to give him up, Wainfleet and Ja convinced their commanding officer to allow the hospital staff to take over Spider’s care when they reached the med bay. He didn’t want the boy out of his sight but what could he do at that moment?

Well, there was one thing.

“Lyle, with me.” Quaritch said as he started walking away. He kept going as he turned to point back at Ja. “Stay here and report as SOON as you get somethin’ from the kid or the doctors.”

Ja saluted and stood at attention in the entrance that doubled as a classic hospital waiting room, complete with terribly boring artwork on the wall.

Quaritch and Wainfleet marched right to the heart of Bridgehead City: the Sec-Ops command center. Until it had more civilian citizens, Bridgehead was just another military base. Even if he didn’t have security clearance, Quaritch wouldn’t be stopped as he walked straight into a conference room Ardmore was heading with other high ranking officers, RDA superiors, and holographic displayed representatives still back on Earth.

“Colonel Quaritch.” Ardmore said with a hint of feigned surprise. When it came to the city and the RDA, nothing happened on Pandora that the general didn’t know about. “Tired of the kid already?”

Whether it was coincidence or not that Ardmore asked about Spider, Quaritch steeled himself and kept a calm composure as he dutifully saluted his superior officer.

“Not exactly the issue, General Ardmore.” Quaritch said with such a cool tone that even Wainfleet was surprised considering how fired up he was from the forest until they crossed the threshold into the conference room. “The boy suffered a severe nosebleed and collapsed unconscious. An emergency evacuation seemed necessary for an asset in custody of the RDA, ma’am.”

Ardmore narrowed his eyes slightly. Well spoken and well played. She looked to her mix of real and holographic audience, “If you will excuse me, I apologize for this interruption. Colonel.”

She nodded as she turned towards her office door and led Quaritch in. Wainfleet stayed back, crossing his arms and scanning the rooms. He wasn’t sure he'd seen more stuffed shirts in one room before.

“You say the boy collapsed?” Ardmore asked as she casually rounded her desk to sit down and look at the colonel, “That’s unfortunate to hear. I suggest you consider leaving Mr. Socorro in the capable hands of our medical staff while you continue your field missions.”

“With all due respect, General, I took responsibility for him for a reason. I’m not about to abandon my responsibilities due to a little mishap. I’m still at your disposal, ma’am, but one mission at a time.” Quaritch said coolly though he was boiling inside. He didn’t expect the general to give a damn about some wild child raised by the enemy who beat even her toughest interrogation methods. Yet, he was still angered by her lack of concern. Or dare you think it…compassion?

Ardmore didn’t respond just yet. Loyalty, responsibility, mission. Quaritch was playing all the right cards, and he wasn’t in a place where she could question it.

“Is the boy’s condition stable?” Ardmore asked with very little interest.

“To be determined, ma’am.” Quaritch started, trying not to bite off his tongue with his sharp teeth every time he showed her extra respect, “That’s why I so rudely interrupted your meeting. My apologies.”

“You saved me really.” Ardmore said, sounding bored, “I’m sure you remember how tedious it can be explaining living on Pandora to those who’ve never set foot here. So how can I help with the asset, Miles?”

Hearing his own name shouldn’t make Quaritch feel an anxious twinge in his chest. He’d lived with it his whole life. But now…having heard the way Spider said it…this alter ego or whatever the hell Quaritch was dealing with. He had never heard his name spoken with such malice.

“My medic did a check on the boy out in the field but it’s hard to determine the correct treatment without knowing all possible triggers. I would like to have a full report of the boy’s medical reports from his interrogations.” Quaritch explained. He made the request without actually asking. Making it clear he wasn’t ASKING for anything.

The general went quiet and appraised the ten-foot-tall reincarnation of one of Pandora’s most reputable and ruthless past inhabitants. Of course she knew the human Miles Quaritch had a son. She had taps on every human that stayed behind on the moon, including the ones born there.

Miles ‘Spider’ Socorro was practically the poster child for humanity’s successful transition to life off planet Earth. The first human born on Pandora; an intergalactic celebrity. But Ardmore didn’t have time for “celebrities”, the RDA could deal with the PR concerns. She needed her soldiers in line to keep the hostiles in line. If the head of her greatest tactical unit was distracted, it could cause a ripple effect through the ranks.

“Consider it done, Colonel.” Ardmore said, surprisingly agreeable considering Quaritch would likely respond negatively to what he learned, “So long as I can continue to count on your assistance with the hostiles. You’re not here to babysit, Miles, you’re here to finish what you started.”

“Understood, General Ardmore.” Quaritch said with another salute. Until the RDA found some hostiles to pacify, he would focus on Spider.

Ardmore kept her word when she said Ja would have the full medical report by the time Quaritch and Wainfleet returned to the medical wing. Sure enough, they entered the waiting area to see Ja crouched down against the wall and staring intently at a tablet. The colonel noticed how his medic, who was the calmest under pressure of the whole squad, looked unsettled.

“Ja, everything good?” Quaritch asked as he and Wainfleet approached. The medic looked up, his ears perking straight up from pinned back against his head.

“Sir, can we speak privately?” Ja said in a quiet, rushed voice.

Quaritch felt that twinge of anxiety come back and it was spreading through his chest. The three recoms ducked uncomfortably into an empty triage room and waited until their sensitive ears heard no one nearby. Quaritch looked back to Ja, he was crouched down and staring at the tablet again.

“Don’t leave me hangin’, doc.” Quaritch said with narrow eyes. He exchanged a look with Wainfleet, who just shrugged at Ja’s continued silence, before looking back to Ja. “Corporal. Speak up.”

“Sir, may I speak freely?” Ja said as he looked up to Quaritch. He received a prompt nod from his commanding officer and let out a sigh before asking, “What the fuck?”

“You’re gonna have to elaborate.” Quaritch growled, ears going back and tail flipping. Just what the hell did that report say to make one of his men speak so bluntly?

“Sir, how many of Spider’s interrogations did you witness?” Ja asked as he was swiping around on the tablet’s holographic screen.

“Two.” Quaritch said, eyes roving over Ja’s quick moving hands, “First interrogation lasted all of three minutes before he passed out. Second one lasted almost an hour and they didn’t get jack from the neuroscanner.”

“I’m not surprised…” Ja said as he turned the tablet around for the other recoms to look at. There were four separate images of top view brain scans. From left to right and top to bottom, the amount of bright oranges and red increased in the frontal lobe. Ja went on to explain, “Sir, each of these scans are a follow-up from a different session in the neuroscanner. They threw him in there four times, I’m guessing two more times between the first session when he passed out and the last one before you took custody. That’s twice the legal limit for this type of intensive interrogation per the UN’s Humane Treatment of POW Act.”

Quaritch stared at the scans, listening to Ja’s words. Spider had been interrogated while hooked up to the neuroscanner four times. FOUR times. And he only knew about two of them! He insisted on being present for the interrogations to make sure they went smoothly.

He felt himself feeling sick by how quickly anger was bubbling up inside him. Ja was continuing to explain the risks while Wainfleet stared at Quaritch, who was completely detached from the conversation. Eventually, the second in command told the medic to hold off on the explanation.

“Boss?” Wainfleet asked cautiously. He cleared his throat and spoke louder, “Colonel.”

“How’d this get past medical approval?” Quaritch asked quietly. He didn’t doubt for a second what the RDA was willing to do to get results. Hell, he’d invented most of the carrot and stick techniques used on Pandora!

“All these records have ‘Restrictions Omitted’.” Ja answered.

“How does that happen?” Quaritch felt the anger in his gut prompting his heart rate to pick up.

“I don’t know for sure, sir, but to bypass medical restrictions for something like this?” Ja theorized, though the politics of the situation weren’t his specialty, “You’d have to…not be protected by them.”

#atwow #avatar the way of water #miles spider socorro #atwow spider #spider quaritch #recom quaritch #atwow fanfiction #ao3 writer

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