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Author Topic: No Mercy [Angst Dump]  (Read 247 times)

No Mercy [Angst Dump]
« on: December 09, 2019, 06:34:28 PM »
I felt like torturing Malcolm a bit, so I wrote up a mini scene of what could happen if he reunited with Mercy. Might make this a kind of 'mini-side-story-angst dump' if I end up thinking of more scenes, not just for Malcolm but all my other OCs haha.


He saw her.

"Hey, big brother."

Something inside him just stopped. His knees felt weak, his heart was racing. He swallowed nothing but air, his whole body was shaking. His eyes couldn't even look at her. It had been too long, it had been far too long. It was ridiculous, wasn't it? The way he was feeling, the way he was reacting. Here he was, a soldier of the Survey Corps, a nearly decade long veteran. He'd seen death in the face, watched his fellow soldiers get torn to nothing but limbs and pieces of corpses. He was Malcolm Watanabe, the silver-tongued, silver-haired scout of the Survey Corps. He'd faced Titans head on, monsters that ate humans alive and yet he couldn't face… one single woman.

He couldn't face his sister.

"I'm here because I have to be, not because I want to be."

She said words. Malcolm wasn't sure if he could process them. She was smiling at him, some sick, sadistic grin. How could she smile like that? Look at him, like that?

He saw something in her hand. She was coming closer to him, step by step. Her long silver hair trailed behind her, a familiar sight Malcolm had never wanted to see again.  And then, he was suddenly somewhere else.

He was years ago on a night he'd wanted to forget. It was dark, there was too many of them. But he saw that silver hair, flowing from the sides of her hood. The glint of a knife. The slide of a blade.

She was on him. He reacted, he couldn't think. An arm went up, he had to protect himself. The blade tore through skin, his skin… Dark, red, blood. His heart was racing. He had grabbed her wrist, but not before she had cut him deep and long. Blood. So much blood.

She looked at him, eyes the color of crimson in the moonlight.


He heard himself say the name. He was pleading with her. She didn't say anything back.


He called out again. His voice was desperate, searching for something. He had to make her listen. This wasn't right. They were family. She was family. Family didn't do this to each other. Family didn't turn their back on each other. Family… didn’t abandon each other. But who was he to think such things? Just like Mercy had said, their Father had left and he had never come back home. What was so different about this now?

"Mercy, say something!"

But she wouldn't say anything to him. Those crimson red eyes just stared at him, disgusted.

Torch lights came from down the alley. The sound of footsteps…

"Hell! The Garrison! Forget it, we gotta move!"

She pulled away. Malcolm let go. She was going to run. Dark maroon liquid ran down his arm, Malcolm stumbled, but he was too numb to feel the pain.

"Bye, Big Brother."

"Mercy, please..."

He breathed out the words. He saw the glint of steel. He reacted. He needed to snap himself out of it, he needed to be in the present again. Or else she would-

"You never change."

Her voice held no emotion. Those crimson eyes stared at him, hard. She held the knife, again. It was pointed at him, again. It was her own sick kind of joke, repeating the past all over. He knew that. He knew she was toying with him, but he was falling for all her traps. Again and again, he’d fall for her tricks, because really, he hadn’t changed. His arm was raised, but the scar had long healed. Discolored skin ran down his forearm, a jagged ugly reminder.

He couldn't think. A cold sweat was running down his neck. He didn't want to admit it, he couldn't. But he knew she was right. He hated to admit that she was right. After all these years, after trying to hard to forget, to change, to convince himself that he didn't care anymore, he couldn't answer her, there were no words he could say. It was his time to be silent.

She put the knife away. She shook her head, disappointed. It was that same look, that same disgusted look. Malcolm couldn't take it anymore. His entire body was shaking. His legs went limp, he fell to the ground. Staring at pebbles, the rocks, the dirt, it was what he deserved. Breathing came heavy, only in short, desperate gasps of air.

"You’re pathetic."

"I know."

Re: No Mercy [Angst Dump]
« Reply #1 on: February 15, 2020, 06:19:33 AM »
A Fight between siblings with the dramatic backdrop of town burning in inferno?? Not sure when this would ever occur, but maybe something that leads on the uprising - coup d'etat route, where Malcolm + the Scouts face up against corrupt Military Police


“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

"You know.... probably."

“I won’t run away.”

Malcolm felt the words stab at his heart. Who was she really, to talk about not running away? Ever since she had left that day, that was all he had ever wanted to do and all he’d been doing. He coughed, the heat of flames made the air heavy around him. Fire. So volatile, so suffocating, so dangerous and wild. And as fire consumed the town in its roaring inferno, the two siblings were the only ones left standing on the ashen earth.

As he stood before her, he glanced behind him only once. He watched his team go. He’d told them to leave him behind. He had something to take care of. Personal business, family business. He’d said his words with a fake laugh, a sarcastic smirk. It was easy to pretend, he’d been doing it for far too long. Even here, even now, he was still trying to smile.

Malcolm drew his blades, holding tight to familiar grips. He felt his hands shaking, but he had no time to steady them. He’d had all the time in the world before, and she was right. He’d wasted it all on running away. He swallowed, feeling his mouth go dry as he whispered words in return.

“I won’t either.”

It was dark again.

She stood above him, silver-steel blade in hand, dripping crimson red.

There was no words said between them. The exchange of blood and steel had been enough. He held his arm close, he had fallen to his knees, the sharp gravel of the pavement dug into his skin. The gash was deep, the blood trailed down his skin. He thought about stopping the bleeding. He thought about crying for help. He thought about how much he needed to do something, or else he’d lose all his inventory for the night.


He thought about how he had been attacked by a girl.


He thought about his sister.

“Mercy! Say something!”

But she wouldn’t say anything to him.

Her blades were drawn, the tips of ultra-hard steel dragged on the earth. And like a night so many years ago, she was on top of him. The blades came crashing down onto him, and the resounding, metallic clang was Malcolm’s only sign that he had blocked this time. He dug his heels down into the earth as she pushed harder. Grimacing, Malcolm held fast.

He wouldn’t go back on his word, he wouldn’t run away.

She screamed in frustration. Her roar came from the fury of flames that surrounded them. She retreated, then she razed her dual blades against each other, crescendoing sparks in the hot air, daring him to make his move. Malcolm’s breath came in heavy gasps, his heart pumping like a drum in his chest. He had to hold his ground. He had to hold her back, just this once. If he could hold her back just this once…

She wouldn’t wait for him. Her attacks came relentlessly. Left, right, right, double, then left again and double again. These weren’t the movements of a trained soldier, they were that of a wild animal, let loose to kill and to hunt. Every swing was meant to be the finishing blow. Malcolm’s only choice was to keep up with her.

Mercy wasn’t going to run away either.

Malcolm Watanabe | Mercy Watanabe | Rosebelle Renée | Javier Renée | Marjorie Hadley | Avent Winter | Alain Schröder


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