This has been a bad idea. Even with all of them fighting together, even with Trey’s Unique Magic giving them a chance, Riddle was already a level above them all without being Overblotted. They were all exhausted, but Riddle was still going strong—in a rage and ready to remove them of their heads…this time much more literally than ever.
Ace and Deuce were down. Trey was falling. Grim and the Prefect defenseless. Where had the headmaster gone? Where was backup? The smattering of Heartslabyul students that could still fight were running or hiding or cowering…and Cater didn’t blame them. A part of him wanted to run and hide, too, but even he wasn’t that big of a coward. He couldn’t leave his classmates, not even when he hadn’t wanted to endorse this fight in the first place.
He could still stand.
“Wait!”
From his position as support, Cater steps forward. He holds his hands up, magical pen held in a non-offensive position. And then, with all eyes on him, Cater takes a knee. He puts a fist over his heart in a display of fealty before setting his pen on the ground before him, disarming himself.
“You’ve won more than just the fight,” he says. With a breath, Cater looks up to dare and meet Riddle’s ferocious, glowing gaze. He hopes that he looks convincing enough—infatuated even in spite of fear. “You‘ve conquered my heart, my Queen.”
Everyone around, from the whimpering freshmen to the groaning, battered boys had fallen silent.
Trey, who could barely support himself on all fours, stared at Cater in disbelief.
But the raging giant who had just been laughing maniacally had also quieted. The tension could be cut with a knife.
Finally:
"What?" he booms, layered over with monstrous, echoing voices not his own. If Cater wanted his attention, he'd certainly got it.
"What are you playing at, Cater? You dare mock me?!"
The question starts with a disbelieving growl and ends in a furious, almost agonized roar. He lifts his arm and the phantom behind him mimics him, ready to strike.
Seven help him. This is the stupidest thing he’s ever done and it’s all he can do not to panic, to keep his face even. Cater’s got about five seconds before he’s smashed to smithereens—whatever he says next has to be convincing enough to stay Riddle’s hand.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, making no move to defend himself. Even if he tried to shield himself…what good would it do, really. So he keeps his kneel, stares upward into the enraged face of his Housewarden. “I’m honored to die by your hand.”
Cater holds his breath, hoping that his death is quick, maybe even a touch relieved that he can wash his hands of responsibility. He did his best. Nobody can say he didn't, even if he really failed his last gambit...but when the attack comes down, Riddle's still screaming and Cater's still breathing.
He should be shaking, he should be sick from terror. Maybe he's just completely disassociated and that's why he hasn't blacked out. And there's Riddle, so much closer than he'd thought before.
"I didn't say a thing against you," he says in a calm, steady voice that he can't believe is his own. "I never questioned a single one of your rulings. All that I am is yours...but if you'd only have my head, that's your decision to make."
As if inviting a final, decisive strike, Cater lulls his head back to expose the curve of his neck to the levitating, berserker-mode Riddle.
As Cater speaks, Riddle's lip curls in a sneer. With a snarl, his hand suddenly comes up and makes a fist in front of him.
Effortlessly, the Phantom seizes Cater and picks him up, bringing him close to Riddle. He lifts his other hand, the blot claw dragging over Cater's neck and leaving an inky trail in its wake.
"I should have your head ten times over for your mockery.
"Acting as if you weren't just standing by their side. As if you weren't willingly attacking your queen."
Then the hand comes up and roughly grabs Cater's chin, Riddle's gaze sharp and piercing.
"This is your final warning. Do not insult my intelligence."
Once again, Cater is surprised he's still alive. He expects the phantom to absolutely crush him, and then expects Riddle to slice his throat right open. But neither thing happens, and his heart feels like it could explode inside of his chest when Riddle takes his chin in his hand. Those eyes...wow.
"I'd never do anything to mock you," he promises, unable to look away. Locked in that intense stare as if he could dig into it and pull Riddle back out. "I can see you so much more clearly, now. You're stunning--in every sense of the word, and I know you well enough to know that your strength doesn't just lie in your capabilities but in your character. You're gracious and forgiving. When your soldiers, your subjects, have needed educating you've always been willing to teach them. Your soldiers misjudged you...and I'm not blameless in that, either. I should have defended you and stood by your side, but I was weak and fell in line with everyone else when you were the one who needed me. I let you down. Now, if you'll have me, I'm prepared to pay any price you'd ask to make up for it."
Silence falls again after Cater's speech. One could hear a pin drop. No student dare speak lest they break the spell Riddle seems to have found himself under with his right hand.
He searches Cater's gaze desperately, trying to find any kind of deceit.
Something... seems to give way. The hold on Cater's chin is no longer bruisingly rough. The hand squeezing him relaxes a bit. There's a crack in Riddle's enraged expression, revealing a deep anguish as little tears of blot start to form.
"...Cater..." comes Riddle's trembling voice. "Help me."
Riddle chokes as a metal cane collides with the back of his neck, and instantly, he falls forward into Cater as the Phantom disappears, sending them both hurtling to the ground...
And caught by a grinning eel.
"Oya, oya. I do hope we weren't interrupting anything."
It worked? It worked! It actually, miraculously fucking worked! Not that Cater is celebrating, exactly, so much as he's just relieved. Riddle's in there, really in there, hearing him, and he's going to be okay. They're all going to be okay. Just a little bit more. His heart breaks to see that crack in the anger. The powerlessness, the fear...
And then it all comes crashing down, literally. Instinctively, Cater reaches out and pulls Riddle close as they fall, knowing he doesn't have his pen and can't break their fall--and caught by Jade Leech of all people! Great Seven. Of all the rescuers, why Octavinelle?!
"You were, actually! I totally had that covered," Cater protests. "Augh, whatever. Put me down, would ya?"
Trey, looking exhausted as he is, appears to take Riddle from where he's squished in Cater's arms in Jade's arms, and once that transfer is complete the ginger is free (after a bit more teasing) to be set back on his own two feet. He takes a breath.
"That was waaaay too close," he says. And then the adrenaline crash hits so cataclysmically fast that without warning the color drains from his face and everything goes dark.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
KNEEL
Ace and Deuce were down. Trey was falling. Grim and the Prefect defenseless. Where had the headmaster gone? Where was backup? The smattering of Heartslabyul students that could still fight were running or hiding or cowering…and Cater didn’t blame them. A part of him wanted to run and hide, too, but even he wasn’t that big of a coward. He couldn’t leave his classmates, not even when he hadn’t wanted to endorse this fight in the first place.
He could still stand.
“Wait!”
From his position as support, Cater steps forward. He holds his hands up, magical pen held in a non-offensive position. And then, with all eyes on him, Cater takes a knee. He puts a fist over his heart in a display of fealty before setting his pen on the ground before him, disarming himself.
“You’ve won more than just the fight,” he says. With a breath, Cater looks up to dare and meet Riddle’s ferocious, glowing gaze. He hopes that he looks convincing enough—infatuated even in spite of fear. “You‘ve conquered my heart, my Queen.”
no subject
Everyone around, from the whimpering freshmen to the groaning, battered boys had fallen silent.
Trey, who could barely support himself on all fours, stared at Cater in disbelief.
But the raging giant who had just been laughing maniacally had also quieted. The tension could be cut with a knife.
Finally:
"What?" he booms, layered over with monstrous, echoing voices not his own. If Cater wanted his attention, he'd certainly got it.
"What are you playing at, Cater? You dare mock me?!"
The question starts with a disbelieving growl and ends in a furious, almost agonized roar. He lifts his arm and the phantom behind him mimics him, ready to strike.
no subject
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, making no move to defend himself. Even if he tried to shield himself…what good would it do, really. So he keeps his kneel, stares upward into the enraged face of his Housewarden. “I’m honored to die by your hand.”
no subject
—inches in front of Cater, creating a brief, impressive gust of wind and a tremor that makes Trey collapse to the ground.
"ENOUGH!" he yells. "All my soldiers have turned against me. All of them! Including you!
"I won't be tricked by your mind games!"
no subject
He should be shaking, he should be sick from terror. Maybe he's just completely disassociated and that's why he hasn't blacked out. And there's Riddle, so much closer than he'd thought before.
"I didn't say a thing against you," he says in a calm, steady voice that he can't believe is his own. "I never questioned a single one of your rulings. All that I am is yours...but if you'd only have my head, that's your decision to make."
As if inviting a final, decisive strike, Cater lulls his head back to expose the curve of his neck to the levitating, berserker-mode Riddle.
"And you are always right."
no subject
Effortlessly, the Phantom seizes Cater and picks him up, bringing him close to Riddle. He lifts his other hand, the blot claw dragging over Cater's neck and leaving an inky trail in its wake.
"I should have your head ten times over for your mockery.
"Acting as if you weren't just standing by their side. As if you weren't willingly attacking your queen."
Then the hand comes up and roughly grabs Cater's chin, Riddle's gaze sharp and piercing.
"This is your final warning. Do not insult my intelligence."
no subject
"I'd never do anything to mock you," he promises, unable to look away. Locked in that intense stare as if he could dig into it and pull Riddle back out. "I can see you so much more clearly, now. You're stunning--in every sense of the word, and I know you well enough to know that your strength doesn't just lie in your capabilities but in your character. You're gracious and forgiving. When your soldiers, your subjects, have needed educating you've always been willing to teach them. Your soldiers misjudged you...and I'm not blameless in that, either. I should have defended you and stood by your side, but I was weak and fell in line with everyone else when you were the one who needed me. I let you down. Now, if you'll have me, I'm prepared to pay any price you'd ask to make up for it."
1/2
He searches Cater's gaze desperately, trying to find any kind of deceit.
Something... seems to give way. The hold on Cater's chin is no longer bruisingly rough. The hand squeezing him relaxes a bit. There's a crack in Riddle's enraged expression, revealing a deep anguish as little tears of blot start to form.
"...Cater..." comes Riddle's trembling voice. "Help me."
2/2
Riddle chokes as a metal cane collides with the back of his neck, and instantly, he falls forward into Cater as the Phantom disappears, sending them both hurtling to the ground...
And caught by a grinning eel.
"Oya, oya. I do hope we weren't interrupting anything."
no subject
And then it all comes crashing down, literally. Instinctively, Cater reaches out and pulls Riddle close as they fall, knowing he doesn't have his pen and can't break their fall--and caught by Jade Leech of all people! Great Seven. Of all the rescuers, why Octavinelle?!
"You were, actually! I totally had that covered," Cater protests. "Augh, whatever. Put me down, would ya?"
Trey, looking exhausted as he is, appears to take Riddle from where he's squished in Cater's arms in Jade's arms, and once that transfer is complete the ginger is free (after a bit more teasing) to be set back on his own two feet. He takes a breath.
"That was waaaay too close," he says. And then the adrenaline crash hits so cataclysmically fast that without warning the color drains from his face and everything goes dark.