My Random Drabble

[Akakiru]

The air in Verona was thick with summer heat and the scent of roses, the kind that clung to your clothes like a lover's scent.

Cobblestone streets glittered under torchlight, and the city hummed with the pulse of Renaissance intrigue—merchants haggling, nobles scheming, and the ever-present feud between Montagues and Capulets simmering like a pot ready to boil over.

Lelouch Lamperouge stood in a velvet doublet, his raven hair tied back, violet eyes sharp as ever. He was Tybalt Capulet now, and he hated every second of it.

It was mortifying, really, how long it took him to figure out where they'd landed. It was a pretty shameful thing for Lelouch to say, but when even Suzaku! SUZAKU knew where they were.

The words had hit like a slap, especially since Lelouch prided himself on his intellect.

His new last name, Capulet, should have given him the hint. At least, but he didn't bother himself with Romeo and Juliet and skipped that class in Ashford.

His sister Euphie, her pink hair vibrant as ever, was Rosaline; he was Tybalt, and Nunnally, no longer confined to a wheelchair or blind, was, of all people, Juliet. At least something good came out.

And Suzaku? The best friend who was now his brother-in-law? Turned out to be Count Paris, the noble suitor who'd somehow convinced Lord Capulet to let him marry Euphie. At first, his uncle thought Suzaku wanted Nunnally, but after a longer talk, he learned he wanted to marry Rosaline and would be allowed to if she desired it and if he could woo her.

That was how Suzaku and Euphie got married just a few weeks ago. Their wedding was a blur of silks and gold, with Euphie glowing, overjoyed to marry Suzaku.

It turned out Suzaku had watched the play Romeo and Juliet with Euphie before their isekai; that was the reason he knew about it.

They'd been isekai'd, ripped from Area 11's chaos into this Shakespearean mess. No Knightmares, no Geass, just swords and sonnets.

In this world made by quills and full of vendettas, Nunnally—by God, Nunnally—was healthy. She walked Verona's gardens with a skip, her laughter brighter than gold. The isekai had given her back her legs, her sight, and her freedom too. Lelouch would burn this world to ash before letting it hurt her.

Today was the Capulet's masked ball. The villa buzzed—servants strung garlands of damask roses, musicians tuned lutes, and nobles arrived in masks of peacock feathers and gold. Lelouch leaned against a marble pillar, arms crossed, a raven mask on his face, his black doublet tight against his lean frame.

As Suzaku approached, his brown curls tousled, his green eyes glinting with that annoying earnestness.

"Tybalt," Suzaku said, the new name still awkward on his tongue. "Euphie's worried you're brooding again."

Lelouch smirked, adjusting his mask. "I'm strategizing, Kururugi. Someone has to keep this farce from becoming a tragedy."

Suzaku chuckled, leaning closer. "So, you know what Romeo and Juliet is about, right?"

"Yes," Lelouch snapped, voice low. "And no worries. The masked ball was where Romeo came for Euphie-Rosaline. As she is married to you, I don't think he would be that stupid; if so, kill him and no one would blame you, and as for Nunnally, no way she would fall in love with that boy."

Suzaku nodded his head as he heard that, but his jaw tightened. He'd just met his new cousin, Mercutio, and in the same crowd, he'd seen a familiar flash of silver hair. Rai. Their friend and the boy Nunnally had a crush on in Ashford Academy.

Suzaku didn't know if this Rai was truly Romeo or someone else, maybe Valentine, but there was a big chance Nunnally's crush got isekai'd too. And if that was the case, the tragedy was already brewing. With Lelouch as the reason.

Suzaku kept his suspicion silent, sipping spiced wine from a goblet. "Mercutio's trouble," he said instead. "Loyal, but reckless. I don't think he would help Romeo... But then he isn't your typical Montague. Watch him tonight."

Lelouch's eyes narrowed. "If he so much as looks at Nunnally, I'll end him. Geass or blade, it doesn't matter."

A soft voice broke the tension. "Brother! Suzaku!" Nunnally swept in, her violet eyes swirling, brown hair braided with pearls. Her eyes, once closed, sparkled with mischief as they did when he was a child in the Mainland. No mask yet—she held a silver one, a cute dove. "The music's starting! Euphie says we're late."

Lelouch softened, stepping to her side. "You look like a princess, Nunnally."

She giggled, twirling. "Juliet's a Capulet, so I suppose I am. Will you dance with me later?"

"Always," he promised, heart aching. She was so alive, so unguarded. Verona didn't deserve her.

Suzaku offered his arm to her. "Let's go, Juliet. Rosaline's waiting."

"Okay."

Lelouch could take a short break and then try to find and kill Romeo.

 

[Akakiru]

The Batcomputer hummed in the Batcave, its screens flickering with static-laced feeds from a city swallowed whole.

Bruce leaned into the microphone, his voice a gravel rasp echoing off the walls of the Cave. "Log entry: October 21. Batman reporting. If anyone ever hears this... God help them."

It started with the cult. They called themselves the Order, worshipers of what they called God—a crimson-robed entity of an Eden,, promising a Paradise. I raided their lair in the bowels of Gotham's undercity, beneath the old park. They ranted about their "God of Eden." Eden." I thought they were just another fanatic cell, like the League of Shadows or the Court of Owls,Owls, but laced with hallucinogens. White Claudia, they called their drug—turns the mind to mush, manifests delusions. Maybe something like what Scarecrow uses or similar. similar. I cuffed them andthem and dragged them to Arkham. Figured the asylum's walls would hold their madness.

I was wrong.
Dead wrong.

They weren't broken; they were vessels,vessels, and this all was planned. From their cells, they chanted invocations to their God, the Holy Mother, Creator of Paradise, Lord of Serpents and Reeds. Rituals seeped through the cracks—blood sigils on padded walls, the Halo of the Sun etched in the walls.
Then the Mist came. Not fog, but a choking veil that rolled from Arkham's vents, blanketing in a short time all of Gotham like a shroud, it wasn't like normalnormal for Gotham. It was much worse. The city shifted. Streets warped into rusted labyrinths, buildings bled iron decay. The so-called-called Otherworld bled into our reality. And with that,that, Silent Hill's curse iscurse is transplanted here into Gotham. What I thought was a fluke or a joke turnedjoke turned Gotham into a hellhell like I couldn'tI couldn't truly compare—Gotham'struly compare—Gotham's corruption and traumatrauma used like a child's toy. The Arkham's inmates screamed as their traumas clawed free, birthing abominations from guilt-soaked psyches.

I regret it all. I should have ended them in that lair, snapped their necks before they broughtaltiel, the angel,, to his city and his sect.

But mercy... my code... it blinded me. Now, Gotham is the new Silent Hill. The Mist devours the whole city. Citizens' sins and traumasmanifest as grotesque sentinels: a mother's neglect spawns writhing, child-like horrors with needle teeth; a thief's greed births shambling figures of bloated, coin-eyed flesh. For every sin and trauma,, it had a monster that it did represent, and Arkham was full of them.

The villains... God, the villains. Their fractured minds amplify the nightmare. But just as I have to fight the Trauma's representations, so do my villains, so at least I don't need to fear traumas,them working with each other. From the Closer hunting down Joker or the Missionary with Dr. Pyg.

My own demons lurked in the city, just like of my family. My parents' murder replays in every alley—all these pyramid-headedd executioners drag a sword,sword, hunting me for the guilt that I feel. I fight, but the Mist feeds on regret, and I have yet to find out how to stop it or what to feel to stop this. We all are getting judged, and we're all guilty. If I can't stop this Mist and Cult... this Paradise will be our tomb.

End of Log.