Arc The Lad: Twilight Of The Spirits One Shots

Crawling (Darc)

Summary: A Linkin Park songfic because this song fits Darc's personality and story perfectly. Also inspired by this beautiful acoustic cover I've linked, and RIP Chester. </3

Crawling in my skin, these wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall, confusing what is real

CRACK

Darc let out a shriek as Geedo's whip lashed out at him once again. Chained up against the wall of her dungeon where he lived as her slave, Darc could see his own blood dripping and pooling on the floor.

His vision was becoming blurry, and he could no longer hear the crack of the whip as it hit, but he felt the burn none the less.

Geedo finally decided he'd had enough - he was on the brink of death again - and let him out of the chains, where he splashed down into his own blood on the cold, stone floor.

Save the Deimos.. Darc recited his father's words to himself, drifting in and out of cosciousness.

Who am I to do such a thing..? I can't even save myself.. I'm just a half-breed wannabe.. All I'll ever be is a failure.. I'm sorry, father..

Darc then passed out in a pool of his own blood once again, as he had done for so many years since Geedo took him in after his father's death.

There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
Consuming, confusing

"Phoenix blood.. Damn it, Geedo," Darc cursed under his breath as he entered Orcoth.

There were a million places he'd rather go than Orcoth. It was a rough place, home to the Deimos race of the Orcon. Certainly no place for a Deimos wannabe like himself.

To his dismay, as soon as he entered the place, he was stopped by a female Orcon with two larger male Orcon standing behind her.

"What do we have here? A Deimos wannabe, huh?"

"I'm not a wannabe! Im a Deimos!" Darc swung an arm to make his point.

Inside him, he felt like a wannabe. It's all he'd known his entire life - loneliness, abuse and never fitting in. Yet there was something nagging at him that told him he was destined for something more.

"I'm a Deimos.." he mumbled, reaching for the birthmark on his arm.

This lack of self control I fear is never ending, controlling
Can't seem to find myself again
My walls are closing in
(Without a sense of confidence I'm convinced that there's just too much pressure to take)

"I'll never tell you where the Wind Stone is!" Darc yelled as the rogue Drakyr threatened to rip off his other wing.

All because he couldn't just be strong and do what all other Deimos do - sell out their friends, forget all sentiments. Why he gave his wings for Geedo he would never know.

He was never sure of what to do. His friends behind him had been defeated so easily. Delma and Densimo. What would happen to them? Then again, why should he care?

I've felt this way before, so insecure
Crawling in my skin
These wounds, they will not heal

A piece of Darc snapped at that moment. The Wind Stone Darc's father had entrusted him with was stolen, the only one he'd ever had that was close to family - Geedo - was ready to dispose of him like he was nothing, like he was never anything to her. Densimo had sold him out, too. Ready to kill for a little extra cash.

He felt like such an idiot for thinking he could change the Deimos to begin with. Hatred and violence was all they understood; all they ever would.

Fear is how I fall, confusing what is real

There was a tiny hint of regret in Darc's heart as he slaughtered Geedo, Densimo, several Drakyr and a group of humans who came to steal his Wind Stone as well. But he couldn't hurt anymore, it was just too much. He physically couldn't feel the pain anymore. It was time to stop being afraid.

"Hatred is all the Deimos know. So I will unite them with hatred, and power."

Discomfort endlessly has pulled itself upon me
Distracting, reacting
Against my will I stand beside my own reflection
It's haunting how I can't seem to find myself again

Leader of the Orcon, Darc was not satisfied. Having move between countries, he was not satisfied. He need more power. He was consumed by hatred, and a need for power. Yet a subtle hint of doubt resided within him, and his comrades could sense that, much to Darc's dismay.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw himself from the outside, as if he was a different person than he had been. He was more ruthless now, he knew that. His heart was harder.

Looking down at his Deimos and human hands, he wondered - had he truly changed so much?

My walls are closing in
(Without a sense of confidence
I'm convinced that there's just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before, so insecure

Delma had betrayed him. Left him for dead. In the end he was saved by a human girl, Lilia. Once again he felt his confidence slip, his sense of self as a Deimos fading again. Gripping tightly at his birthmark, he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Are you alright?" Lilia asked.

"Fine," Darc snapped at her, "now come on, we have to move. Unless you want me to kill you and take that Light Stone of yours, that is."

Why the insecurities? Why now? He had to mask it, as he always did, with hatred.

Crawling in my skin, these wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real

His mother? There was no way, no way at all this was Darc's mother standing before him on the Dilzweld ship. He came to rescue Lilia, not to find his "mother". His human mother.

But the stubborn Lilia refused to be rescued without this "Lady Nafia", so Darc had no choice.

He hadn't planned on this at all, nor had he planned to almost be free, only to have the mother he just met after seventeen years, take a bullet for him as he fought through Dilzweld forces.

For the first time in a long time, he felt it. Fear and pain.

There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface, consuming
(Confusing what is real)

Deimos didn't cry. They didn't have emotions. Well, they did, but they didn't show them like humans. They weren't as fragile. Yet here Darc found himself, tears flowing freely as he knelt in front of his mother, their foreheads rested against each other's as he held her hands, begging her not to die. Not to leave him alone again, like everyone always did.

It confused him, the wave of hurt. For so long he'd locked away the human emotions he harboured and thrown away the key, yet here he sat crying into the lap of a woman he'd just met, as Lilia watched over him sadly. Where did these emotions come from so suddenly?

This lack of self control I fear is never ending, controlling
Confusing what is real

Darc stood atop the Elder's Hill, the wind blowing through his hair, a few tears stinging at his eyes as relief washed over him that this war was finally over. The Lord of the Black Abyss was defeated, and Darc was the King of the Deimos, as he wished, but now he found himself confused.

He wanted to unite the Deimos, to crush the humans. Yet his twin brother was a human. He had fought alongside humans to save the world. He wanted to use violence and hatred to unite the Deimos, yet now he didn't have to.

He'd changed countless Deimos just by being him, with no need for fear or fighting. He'd shown them a new way.

Then why did he feel so cold? So dark? At the same time he felt happy, for the first time in his life. It was all over, but he had no clue where to go next.

Was he a human? Was he a Deimos?

Why did Darc feel like he was a lost soul crawling within his own skin? Why was he so afraid?

What was truly real?