#DON’T let people talking about the fur quality put you off it feels like it’ll wear better than the stuff they use on bashfulls

[loz-the-noob]

This is Jay (short for JJ… which is short for Jellycat Jack), and he loves adventure so much that he went on one even before coming home for the first time!

[echo-of-sounds]

love languages

Small headcanons on the love languages of Aizawa, Toshi, Hizashi, Fatgum, Gang Orca, and Hound Dog.

Aizawa Shouta

Aizawa’s is definitely any form of physical touch. It’s difficult for him to vocalize his thoughts and feelings so he relies on his body. And his body is nothing but warmth and comfort. 

Your touch isn’t only comforting, but it’s grounding and reliable as well. After a nightmare, an anxiety attack, or just a difficult day, feeling your hands and hearing your heartbeat is a constant reassurance he’s safe. The flashback or nightmare wasn’t true. Your body is what’s real and present. It makes the panic go away.

Shouta also uses physical touch as a way of communication. He knows it’s hard to ask for help or to say you need a break from the crowd. It happens to him. It can happen to anyone. He’ll squeeze your thigh, silently asking if you’re okay. You don’t need to verbalize a response. Simply shake your head for ‘no’ or smile for ‘yes.’  When he starts feeling overwhelmed, he’ll tightly grip your hand, asking if you and he can leave.

He likes receiving words of affirmation. They don't have to be flowery words pomped up with ridiculous adjectives. That would get annoying to him. Tell him you love him when he gets home. Whisper how much he means to you when he’s laying on your chest. Hearing your delicate praise for him just existing in your life means so much. It warms his heart. Not that he’d ever say it though.

Yagi Toshinori

Toshinori is a mix of quality time and physical touch. His life has been bombarded by cameras and people. Getting time with only you is critical to your relationship. On Saturday nights, turn your phones off, relax on the couch with a glass of wine, listening to soft music, and talk. It doesn’t matter about what- your week, your jobs, your current projects, a recent movie you saw- just talk to each other. A partner actively listening with a smile on their face is something he never thought he would get. 

Touching is simple but important. Lean on his shoulder as you watch TV. Kiss his knuckles when you're holding his hand. He'll sit behind you and wrap his arms around you, resting his head on your upper back. Just cuddle. Just let him feel cherished and treasured and safe. Your body against him is the most secure thing to him.

You’ll notice there is a small sprinkling of words of affirmation. After a difficult night, a note will be on the counter, complimenting and encouraging you for the day. Toshi’s texts are full of love and gratitude and cute pictures to make you smile. He doesn’t realize he does it half the time. It’s become an instinct to check in with you throughout the day.

Yamada Hizashi

Words… just a lot of words of affirmation. Sometimes, he doesn’t expect you to listen. He knows he babbles on and on. But sometimes, his words catch your attention. He’ll talk about you, how much you’ve done for him, and how much he adores you. And when you sit down and actually engage in his interests, he bursts. If you recognize his loving words, it’ll only grow. 

It should be noted that physical touch is also important. Though he isn’t as vocal about it. The way he squeezes you isn’t him being clingy. It’s him needing to feel your body as a way to recharge his energy. Your importance and willingness to just be in the moment with him calms his often racing mind and eases his muscles.

If yours isn’t receiving gifts, it might become just that. Trinkets, candies, toys fall out of his pockets. Whenever he sees something he thinks you might enjoy, he scoops it up, even if you only put the little fairy statue on the shelf. He wants you to know he appreciates you and is thinking of your happiness. Your smile is beautiful and he wants to see it as much as possible.

Toyomitsu Taishiro

Taking walks, cooking, and going to museums is important quality time to Taishiro. They’re not big, venturous dates. They’re only simple times you can spend with each other. Tip his nose with cake batter while you’re trying out a new recipe. Kissing, dancing, and laughing until you’re nearly peeing your pants is something he wouldn’t want with anyone else.

He clears parts of his schedule to assure he’ll get enough time. If it’s been a while since he’s had distraction-free, one-on-one time with you, he starts to feel weird. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you or gets angry if you’re busy. He just wants you. Your laugh, your questions, your love hooks him and when he’s deprived of it, he’s left wanting and waiting.

Receiving gifts lets him know you were thinking of him. They don’t have to be big. In fact, he prefers smaller, near ‘unremarkable’ ones: a coffee mug with a little bag of candies, homemade bread, or just a new box of UNO cards. He’s always beyond enthusiastic when you give anything to him. And he’ll plant so many smooches on your cheek.

Gang Orca

Whispered words of affirmation in a dark room while you’re snuggled together makes him so warm. Though he’s grateful for any words, telling him he’s beautiful and you love him for him nearly boils his heart. He can’t blush but he will nuzzle your neck, hiding from your smile and tender words.

Kugo gives acts of service. He wants to help you with everything. He can change the light bulb. He’ll throw your clothing into the washer when you’re tired. He carries the bags in from the car. Helping you with everyday tasks is how he wants you to know he cares. He wants to take care of you. He wants you to know how important you are. Because you are his top priority.

Do it back to him and he’s flustered. People don’t take care of him. He’s strong, a top Hero, and a leader people follow. They never think of helping him in smaller, more meaningful ways. After a long, tiring day, he still wants to cook for you. Tell him to take a bath and relax while you make dinner. Throw his Hero costume in the wash for a deep clean. And rub body salve into his skin when he gets out. He appreciates your full-blown attention. The effort, as little as it is, is unable to be explained by him.

Physical touch weighs heavily in Kugo’s mind. It’ll take a while for him to be comfortable with a lot of touching. Like when you take care of him, he’s thankful for your mere presence. And like Toshinori, intimacy isn’t something he’d think he’d get in life. So when you ask to lay on his chest to fall asleep or kiss his knuckles as he’s leaving for work, it washes over his being, registering that someone genuinely wants to be with him. 

Hound Dog

Ryo doesn’t need grand adventures and brainy words. He merely needs you next to him. Quality time on the couch or going out for drinks on a Wednesday afternoon is more than exceptional. It takes some time for him to grow attracted or attached to someone and he savors any nighttime hangouts with you- no complications, no distractions, just you and him.

Not to compare him to a canine, because he’s still clearly a person, but those times build your bond much like when someone gets a new dog. Mutual respect and relaxed, entertaining time together assure him you’re actually in the relationship, to be in the relationship. You aren’t looking for a hookup or using him to pass the time until someone better comes along.

Give him gifts. He won't know what to do. Whether it's a new flannel or a movie he really wanted. It means a lot. Few people have taken the time to listen to what he needs and when you come home, giving him a better brush for his fur you happened across, his heart flutters. It’s a new, alien, but very satisfying feeling.

He’d also welcome any snuggles (physical touch).

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Might fall for you-Lukadrien June Day 16

So the monster high au came up in the lukadrien vault but stupid me forgot to save the info before it closed. But i had suggested Adrien being on the fearleading team and I thought since he's a werecat, he'd be perfect for a flyer, which I now know sometime appears in pro cheearleading. It was in my head when reading this prompt, so enjoy! Falling for you

“This is utterly ridiculous!”

Adrien could see the magic flying off of Chloe. He felt a little sorry for Headmistress Mendeleiev. She’d be dealing with a few cursed items if this got any worse.

“Our SKRM course is still damaged and we have a season coming up, one you will be cheering at might I remind you. may I also remind you that you had caused that damage by annoying the kraken in the pool?”

“He stole my perfume! Do you have any idea how expensive that was? How are we supposed to work on routines with they’re slamming their stupid skates all over the place? There is a perfectly fine courtyard!”

“Ms. Bourgeois, I am reaching the end of my rope. The SKRM team is practising in the gym. Your fearleading team will have one side and the SKRM will have the other. Now leave, before I have your practise suspended.”

Chloe let out an infuriated huff and stormed off, her magic causing a few things to glow.

“Um, I’d check on those things first, sorry!” Adrien ran after Chloe, who was causing the lockers to rattle. “Chlo, it’s not that big of a deal. The course will be fixed soon and then it’ll be over.”

Sabrina was waiting at the end of the hall, her fearleading letterman jacket on. She was halfway in the shadows, almost impossible to see had it not been for the neon colour of her monster emblem acting as a beacon.

“Sabrina, get out of the shadows! We have work to do!”

“Yes Chloe.”

The boogeygirl stayed smartly out of the way of the puca, sharing a look with Adrien once she’d stormed by. They arrived at the gym, where the rest of the fearleading team was speaking with the SKRM team, some doing more than talk. Adrien flinched when Chloe pulled the megaphone from Sabrina.

“Get in formation right now!”

“It’s gonna be a long practise, isn’t it?” Sabrina asked.

“that’s one word for it. Good luck.”

“You too.”

Adrien was the only guy on the fearleading team and as a werecat, he was light enough and skilled enough to be a flyer. It got easy to ignore Chloe screaming at them from her spot on the ground as he and a bunch of girls flipped, tumbled and were tossed in the air, but every now and then Chloe would say something scathing and distract them. Adrien already felt off balance with the girls shaking under him. When he was on the ground acting as a spotter, he saw that a few of the SKRM members were watching, interested.

“Do you think we could do something like that to avoid an obstetrical?” he heard a minotaur ask.

“Possibly. Though who wants to risk their neck asking Chloe to teach us?”

“We could ask the guy on the team to help. They throw him up in the air.” A gorgon pointed out.

“You’re late on the music, pick it up!”

Adrien put his hands on the bases’ shoulders and pushed up, finding his balance as they held onto to one foot as he brought his other right behind his head. He thought they were doing well, but he could see Chloe wasn’t happy. He also had a feeling that the loud clopping of the skates against the wood of the floor didn’t help either. As he brought his leg down, readying himself to get tossed in the air when one of the cyclops fell to the floor. His height added with his weight, caused the whole floor to shake. Along with already shaky hands, Adrien lost his balance and fell backwards.

Now, Adrien was a werecat, so he had the qualities of a cat, including landing on his feet. He was a decent hight off the ground but was sure he’d be fine. So when he was feeling his body start to turn to land on his feet but was instead caught by something that crashed them to the floor, he was surprised. He opened his eyes to see he was on top the same gorgon who’d pointed him out earlier. He panicked a little when he saw he wasn’t wearing any eye gear to block his stone turning power when he noticed how dull his eyes were. Gorgon contacts, for those gorgons who didn’t like glasses, they covered the magic layer on their eyes that turned people to stone.

“Are you ok?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Um, guess I was falling for you.” Adrien felt his ears flick back when he realised what he said. “Why did I say that?”

Thankfully the gorgon found it funny. He let Adrien get off him before pushing himself up. Adrien noticed he was wearing skates, most likely using them to get from one side of the gym to where he’d fallen. He got up and offered his hands.

“Here, let me help you up.” He took the offered hands, feeling the scales against his fur. It was a strange feeling, but kinda nice. He must have pulled harder than expected because when the gorgon was up on his feet, he rocked forward on his skates but managed to catch himself. Adrien’s ears flicked back again at the realisation of how close they were.

“Looks like I’m falling for you now.” The gorgon joked, his dull slitted blue eyes shining mischievously.

Oh my Bast, Adrien was in trouble.

“Off! Get off of him, right now!” Chloe came over, waving the two of them apart, shooting a glare at the gorgon before turning to him. “Are you ok? Do you need to go to the nurse?”

“Chlo, I’m fine, really. I would have landed on my feet anyway.”

“This is exactly what I mean when I said they shouldn’t be here!”

While Adrien worked to calm Chloe down, he watched the gorgon skate back to his team, sending him a smile when Adrien mouthed ‘thank you’. by the end, Chloe cancelled the rest of practise and he’d gone with her and Sabrina to continue calming her down. he then realised he’d never gotten the gorgon’s name.

                                             ___________________

Monster High parties were always something to look forward to. Extravagant fashion, good music and funny antics depending if there was a reason the party was thrown. This one was down in the school’s underground dock. One of the students had brought their boat and the whole party was spilling from the main deck onto the dock and the stairs. They were incredibly long so no one was going back up, but it was breathing room. Adrien leaned against the railing of the boat, looking over at Nino having fun behind the DJ stand. The original DJ got thrown in the water and was being played around with by the school kraken. He saw a few of the sea monsters trying to help, but he knew Nino would be up there for a while.

“Hey.” Adrien looked up and perked up at the sight of the gorgon that had saved him.

“Hi.”

“Is your friend here? Hoping to not get yelled at again.”

“She is, but don’t worry, she’s more focused on beating out another girl in having more admirers. Um, I never got to properly thank you for saving me.”

“Even thought you would have landed on your feet.” He reminded, though he had a good-natured smile. “I sort of saw you falling and moved without thinking. I’m Luka by the way.”

“Adrien.”

“A pleasure. You were pretty impressive by the way, as a flyer.”

“Thanks. I’ve never really watched a SKRM match.”

Luka looked surprised. SKRM was the most popular sport, even more the casketball. “Guess that explains why I never saw you last season. People always at least come to one game.”

“I also just transferred. My dad had me home-schooled for a long time. I’ve known Chloe for years and have helped her with fearleading so she dragged me when I came.”

“Guess I’ll have to come see you guys at competition.”

“Then I’ll cheer for you extra hard during SKRM season. And I guess I could tech you guys a few basic tosses to help.”

Luka smiled at him. “We’d appreciate it. But enough about ‘work’. Do you wanna dance?”

“Sure.”

He followed Luka onto the made dance floor, easily moving to the music. He noticed the snakes in Luka’s hair moving along with the music as well. Someone from behind bumped into Adrien and sent him stumbling forward. Luka caught him, his hands going around his waist.

“You seem to be falling for me a lot.” Luka teased.

Adrien’s tail flicked around, as he struggled to find words.

“If it’s ok with you, maybe before you teach the team those tosses, we can go out for coffee at the maul?”

Adrien slowly nodded, trying to stop his tail.

Maybe he was falling for Luka.

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (64) || atz

“Let’s go onto land!” You cheer excitedly, grabbing onto Jongho’s arm and he looks at you with wide eyes, surprised. You’re practically bouncing up and down in anticipation, waving your new arm about, and Yeosang smiles at you fondly from the side. It’s the most energetic he’s seen you for days. “Come on! Let’s go and buy Yunho some grilled squid or something to cheer him up!” Your grin is radiant.

“I’m glad you’re so excited about it.” Your captain’s voice comes from the door and Jongho whirls around to see Hongjoong standing there, wiping the tiredness from his face with a damp cloth, wearing a small smile. Out of the corner of his eye, however, he sees your face go ashen for a second at the sight of your captain before your smile returns, although it seems a little forced. He frowns. “If you want to go onto land, remember to bring Jongho with you.”

“Alright.” You say quietly, suddenly so much more subdued than you were prior. Jongho and Yeosang exchange looks. What is that all about?

“I heard you helped design the arm.” Jongho hears you add on, and your smile is... difficult to say the least, tender but brittle, cracking at the edges. But the gratefulness is your voice is genuine and true. “Thank you, captain.”

“I told you, call me Hongjoong.” His captain corrects with a fond smile, and Jongho finds himself frowning at the sight of it, wondering if... perhaps... but before he can think too much into it, Hongjoong is already stumbling across the cabin and clambering into his hammock. He must be exhausted from the recent events and steering the ship almost the entire way. The three of you watch him as he yanks his red jacket off to cover himself, before he makes a noise of annoyance when his fingers slip through a couple of gaping holes and slashes in the sleeves and sides. “This thing is falling apart.”

“It’ll become more holes than fabric soon.” Yeosang mutters under his breath sympathetically and Hongjoong groans, burying his face in his hammock so you can see the outline of his features against the rough fabric. “It’s going to be so cold soon.” He laments.

“We could start a fire on board.” Jongho pipes up and Hongjoong scrambles to sit upright, waving his fist at him.

“Are you trying to burn the Treasure like a piece of matchwood? No, Jongho, you shall not-” He nearly falls out of the hammock and you rush to flip his hammock back upright, the suspending ropes swinging dangerously. “That’s it, Jongho, you’re on bilge bailing duty for the next week-”

“I’m joking, I’m joking.” Jongho reassures him and Hongjoong gives him a glare out of the corner of his eye, as if not quite convinced. “We’ll be leaving you to your nap in peace now, captain.”

“Nighty night.” Yeosang whispers, as if he’s talking to a little baby and the three of you tiptoe out of the cabin, leaving your captain sulking in the hammock behind you.

>>>

It’s a good three hours of more negotiations and steering the ship into the docks before you, Yeosang and Jongho are strolling through the port marketplace, a cluster of white makeshift stalls set up with canvas awnings, selling brightly colored trinkets made from a rainbow of elegantly carved seashells.

“These are pretty!” You exclaim to Jongho, picking up a hair clip made of iridescent blue and green shells, while Yeosang heads down a few stalls to peruse a few maps. Jongho manages a smile, patting you on the head lightly. “Yeah, they are. You want one?”

“Nah, I have one already.” You say, patting the silver hairpin Wooyoung had given you resting subtly in your belt, the aquamarine inlaid in the middle still shining clear, the light rippling through the stone like sunlight through the ocean. “It’s the only one I need.”

“But you don’t wear it.” Jongho reminds you with a frown and you puff out your cheeks, a little sad. “Yeah, because the last time I did it nearly got stolen. Now, I only wear it on board the Treasure, but sometimes I forget.” You shrug, moving back to pick through the trinkets. “It’s fine though. I’m not really bothered.”

Jongho nods in understanding, moving over to check out some oddly curved daggers, tracing the tip of his finger along the edges. How did people find sheaths for them?

Glancing back at you, he’s about to see what you’re up to when he sees a group of local children standing behind you, chattering loudly in a foreign language and gesturing to your wooden hand. With a frown, Jongho picks through the crowd back to your side, where you’re still looking through the accessories, and takes your wooden hand in his very clearly, before pulling you away from the stall.

“Hey!” You protest, looking at him in surprise as he tugs at you lightly, leading you away from the eyes of the children. “I wasn’t done looking at those-”

“Let’s go eat some grilled squid.” Jongho suggests quietly, pointing to another makeshift stall. There’s a man standing over a charcoal pit, turning sticks of squid over the fire and the delicious aroma of spices waft over to you. Seonghwa would love to try these out, he thinks, and you turn to him excitedly, earlier annoyance forgotten. “Yeah, it looks delicious!”

Jongho smiles and follows after you as you hurry towards the stalls, pulling out his money bag. A few minutes later, the two of you are sitting next to the stall, chewing on the springy treat side by side. “This tastes amazing.” You tell Jongho happily, and he nods, glad to see that you’re smiling once again. “You remember the first time you brought me out?”

For some reason, out of the entire trip the two of you had had, the incident in which you called him cute comes to mind. “Oh, god, don’t remind me.” He groans, putting his hands on his cheeks and you laugh in delight, clearly remembering the very same incident.

“Don’t worry.” You beam brightly, ruffling his hair gently with your real hand and he smacks your hand away lightly, taking another bite to hide the colour rising to his cheeks. “You’re still cute.”

He chokes on his squid. “Hey!”

Your laughter rings out as you lean backwards, enjoying the feeling on the sun’s warmth on your face, eyes sliding shut. Jongho takes a moment to look at you, eyebrows furrowed slightly, the same question rolling around on his tongue since this morning.

What’s wrong?

He just wants you to be able to answer this question with an honest “I’m okay.” Or at the very least, be able to tell him that you’re not, and tell him what’s wrong so he can help you fix it. He waits, waits and waits, but you don’t say anything to break the silence, too preoccupied with finishing your snack and counting the sticks left in the paper bag for Yunho and the rest of the crew.

“Hey, Jongho...” You ask suddenly, and he raises his eyebrow to look at you in curiosity. “Hypothetically... very, very hypothetically... if one of our crew members die, what would you do?”

Jongho’s taken aback for a second, before he frowns, trying to read your face but your expression is unreadable, still carefully counting through the sticks of grilled squid and avoiding his eye. Then he turns back to look at the ground, counting the tiny stones underneath the soles of his boots.

“I guess...” His voice is softer than he’d intended to. “I’d mourn, I’d miss them. Then I’d keep them here,” he points at his chest, “and move on and live well for them.”

You smile, for some reason he can’t quite understand. “And if I die? Would you cry?”

“You’re surprisingly morbid today.” He remarks and you laugh, poking him in the side and dispelling his fears. “And I don’t even want to think about it.” You poke him in the side again, and keep staring at him. Something tells him you’re not going to let up until he gives you an answer, so he sighs and replies. “Perhaps I’d mourn? But cry? I don’t think so. I haven’t cried in a long while since my parents’ deaths.”

You beam back at him, eyes soft. “That’s good to hear.” You say quietly, one hand reaching up to ruffle his hair again and for some reason, this time, he doesn’t want to push your hand away and a feeling akin to fear strikes deep in his heart.

Frowning, Jongho opens his mouth to ask a question.

“Why are you asking these kind of questions-”

“Whoa, look at that!” You’re already rising to your feet and moving to another stall before he can finish his question and he sighs, shaking his head. You pick up something red and furry, holding it up to him. “This looks so cool!”

“That’s fox pelt.” He tells you, running a hand along the fur just to make sure. It’s soft, of high quality. “It’s used to make scarves and other things.”

“It’d be warm, wouldn’t it?” You muse, picking up the fabric and weighing it in your hands with a tilt of the head, and Jongho raises an eyebrow to look at you curiously. “I guess it would.”

“Okay!” You grin, reaching over to pick up a few and comparing them. “I’m going to get a few.” Jongho frowns.

“What for?” He asks, and you chew on your bottom lip as you shake each pelt out and check them for holes. “I want to make captain something.” You tell him absentmindedly. “It’s getting cold and captain’s jacket is full of holes, I don’t want him to fall sick. And besides,” your voice trails off as you look down quietly at the fox fur in your hands. “I want something for him to remember me by.”

“You’ll always be with us.” Jongho says, suddenly feeling a desperate urge in him to make sure he speaks it into existence, a painful feeling clenching in his chest. You smile at him fondly, open your mouth to speak, and Jongho leans in closer, he needs you to reassure him that you’ll always be there, be part of the crew, but before you can say anything, there’s a grumpy call from behind you.

“I see the two of you have eloped together.”

You and Jongho both whip around to see Yeosang stand there, looking remarkably put out, and then it finally hits; the two of you abandoned him at his map stall.

“I’m sorry!” You squeak, running over to squeeze Yeosang’s hand and he turns his nose up, refusing to look you in the eye. “Hmpf!”

But Jongho can see the tiny smile playing on Yeosang’s lips even as you whine and pull at his sleeves, and what scares him the most is that he can’t help but feel like all of this is going to vanish like a good dream in the morning light.

>>>

Back on the ship late into the wee hours of the night, as the voyage to Tortuga continues, you take your pile of furs, a pair of scissors you had borrowed from Seonghwa and your sewing needles in one hand to the main deck, nudging open the hatch to the storage hold.

You pause, wait for the sound of the crunching of apples, but there’s nothing except for the silence of the night, the sounds of water rushing against the hull of the ship and wood creaking. You’re not sure which you would have preferred, but wordlessly pull your things down into the storage hold with you, hang your lamp from the hook in the ceiling and close the hatch behind you.

The flame of the lamp casts flickering light against the wooden beams and shadows that slip into the darkness before your eyes can catch them, but you only find yourself looking at one place; the tiny corner behind the barrels you had first hidden in when you had first come aboard this ship.

You see it in your mind’s eye all over again, how you’d seen Mingi’s face for the first time, how you’d broken his nose, how Seonghwa had led you up the stairs with your broken ankle, all of it. You remember how Yunho had watched the sunrise with you, the story of the rings in his hair. You remember every little thing all too well, and perhaps that’s the greatest gift of all.

How much had changed since, you muse to yourself, picking up a piece of sacking that has fallen onto the ground with your wooden hand, and yet how nothing has changed at all. Who you are, and who you were before, and who you were before that, you’re no closer to any of these answers, and yet, all you know is that you want to stay with the crew that have become your family, to be with them always as the Treasure sails to the end of the world and even beyond that.

“I hope I won’t forget that.” You tell yourself quietly, even as you settle into the little corner just like how they’d found you, pulling the furs into your lap. “Even if I die, I hope I don’t forget all of them.”

You place the needle between your lips and work the screw of your prosthetic hand until the silver instrument is lodged firmly between the two prongs. You remember Yeosang’s smile of triumph and pure happiness for you when he realised that the prosthetic had worked, remember how the very hand you had lost had held his as you fought to bring him back to life.

You pull out the thread with shaking fingers, remember the way your master’s hands held yours gently as he guided the tip of your needle through the fabric, teaching you how to sew stuffed toys made with scraps of old sail to practice stitching. You remember the way you had hurt him and closed the door in his face, how you had reduced him to tears and left him to watch you die.

You don’t have time to cry. You have to hurry and finish this coat, before it’s too late. You pull the needle from the prosthetic, press it into the fabric. Before you know it, tears are slipping down your eyes as you push the tip of needle into the fur and start pulling the thread through, and the fox fur soaks in all of it, all your pain, sadness and happiness, trapping them within.

“I don’t want to just be a memory.” You whisper softly into the silence of the hold.

The night is dark, and silent.

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 47: Warming Up

So... Somebody requested an entire episode of Klance cuddles and well, I'm not gonna say no <3<3<3

Also, I know little about anatomy and biology, so my answer to your questions will always be: ALIENS

First  Previous  Next

Turns out there are side effects of being shoved into an Altean healing pod. Keith discovers this after Lance gets in the shower. He’s up in the loft, looking at the frosted world outside, and he’s suddenly freezing. Extremely cold. Shivering. Even the blanket doesn’t help very much.

“Keith?”

“I’m- I’m up h- here!”

Lance’s damp, white head pops up over the top of the ladder. His hair, Keith registers, is curly when wet. “Woah, are you okay?”

“N-not s-s-sure.”

Lance crawls over, right up against him, wraps the blanket around them both. “You are very cold, beloved.”

“N-no sh-sh-shit.”

“At least you’re still sassy.” Lance puts an arm around him, and Keith huddles into his warmth. “This happens sometimes. It should set itself right in a quintant or two.”

“I hope s-so.”

Lance kisses the base of his ear. “Once you're ready to climb down, I’ll get the fire going and we’ll keep you nice and warm.”

“Thanks. Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I doubt this is what you wanted to do on your day off. Babysit me. Again.” Keith closes his eyes, settling his head against Lance's chest, feeling, hearing the steady beat of his single heart.

“Oh yes, spending a day with my husband all snuggled up to me. How awful,” Lance deadpans. Then he smiles. “I don’t mind. I like spending time with you. And looking at your beautiful face.”

“You’re the beautiful one.” Everyone on Altea knows it, and people outside the planet have heard of it.

“You’re wrong. Shut up.”

“No.”

“You’re the worst. Just so you’re aware. Ready to go down?”

“I think so.” Keith examines his hands. The majority of his shivering is gone, and he’s not nearly so cold. He should be able to make it down the ladder.

Lance climbs down first. He watches Keith descend, helping him with the last few rungs just in case. He still seems tired, despite their second nap. Lance will have to make sure they both sleep tonight.

Bundled up in front of the fire, Lance immediately knows he’ll be uncomfortably warm for a while, but it’s okay. Besides, he finds himself sufficiently distracted the moment Keith asks-

“Do you want kits?”

“Well that’s one way to start a conversation.”

“I just- It feels like something we should talk about now, instead of waiting for me to go into season.”

Lance blushes. “Fair enough. Um. Actually, I genuinely do want kids. I mean, we’re expected to have two, but I really like kids? I think they’re great, and I’ve always wanted two of my own.”

“Two?”

“Well, yeah. Altea’s not exactly a big planet, so we control population very carefully by limiting the number of children a couple can have. Currently, under law, children are born at a one-to-one ratio. It used to be just two children per family, but with an increase of polyamory, my father changed the law. It’s one of the cooler things my father’s done.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.” Keith’s ears wilt, one brushing against Lance’s jaw.

“What is it?”

“I… I always imagined more than two.”

“Really?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Keith grumbles.

“Well, I- I dunno. I just didn’t think of you as the type. That’s all.” Lance rests his cheek atop Keith's head, feels Keith's tail wrap around one of his ankles.

Keith sighs, settles against Lance. “My family life growing up was pretty much destroyed, but I always imagined doing better. Finding a mate. Just living a life. I want that. A lot.”

“So you want a lot of children.”

“Yes, but just two will be okay.” I guess.

“We’ll find a work around. How many?”

“Four?”

“So, as long as the last two are conceived on Daibazaal, then we can call them accidents.”

“Hey, I’m technically expected to have at least four for my own planet anyway, so…”

“We must do our duty to both of our peoples,” Lance murmurs, grinning when he feels Keith's quiet laugh against him.

“Hm. Very true.” Keith’s smile slips into a small frown, more thoughtful than anything else. “But maybe not this first season. Maybe… Maybe this first one should just be about us. I won’t remember much of it, but I still like to think it’ll mean something. And-”

“And sometimes it's better to take one big change at a time.” Lance kisses the base of Keith’s ear. “I’ll talk to Shiro and Adam about contraceptives, and we can revisit kids in another five phoebs.”

“I’ll be ready then.” Keith closes his eyes. “Thanks for understanding.”

“I don’t understand. That's why I'm glad we're talking about this. I don’t understand at all how your growth cycles work. I don’t understand how you’ll change… Part of me wonders if I’ll even recognize who you become.”

“You’ll recognize me. I’ll be a little more… grown up, but I’ll still be me.”

“So you’ll still be all sassy and beautiful?”

Keith glares at the folds of their blanket, ears aflutter. “Well, I don’t know about beautiful, but-”

“Good thing I’m an expert.” There’s something a little dark in Lance’s eyes now, some piece of want Keith hasn’t ever seen before. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, blinked away. “We should spar tomorrow. I want to do more. Get better.”

"Okay."

"I can show you, if you want. How beautiful you are." Lance slips a hand under Keith’s shirt, drawing fingers up his spine, feeling the way his muscles tense and coil. Curious, Lance reaches out, lets his quintessence sink beneath Keith’s skin, exploring his body. Keith allows it, lets Lance explore him. If he could, he'd do the same. They're such different creatures.

Lance feels the way Keith's body is already priming to grow, feels stores of nutrients beginning to build up in his cells, feels the way his-

“Your bones. What’s wrong with-” It’s not his bones. Not entirely. His growth plates. He can feel them. Loosely knit, they’re not stitched quite right into the surrounding bone. “So that’s why you’re small."

“As rude as that is, it's pretty cool how you can tell. My growth plates are insufficient. Efforts to correct the issue proved temporary. When I grow, it's painful and the physical output is extreme.”

“I can tell,” Lance murmurs, still threading quintessence through Keith’s body. Whatever's wrong with his growth plates, it's something fundamentally wrong. Even his father wouldn’t be able to rectify it. “That plus a season-”

“My body likely wouldn’t be able to support a fetus.” Keith sighs. “That’s the main reason I want to wait, truthfully. I don’t want to go through that... I think my mother did. More than once. She's never said so, but sometimes... I see it in the way she looks at me.”

“I don’t want to go through that either. I won’t put us through that.” Lance closes his eyes, their bodies settling together, sinking into one another. “Galra are so… different. And you are just beautifully made.”

“I am?” Keith twists in Lance’s space, peers up into his blue and pink eyes. “How so?”

Lance gulps. He can see his quintessence firing in Keith’s eyes, in his veins, glowing a pristine blue-white. It's unearthly, ethereal, illuminating the shafts of his fur, his hands, his lips. All the places where veins are concentrated. Haunting and beautiful at the same time.

“I can see… Your hearts beating. I can tell that you’ve always been strong, but it didn’t use to be because of training. You used to have a more… organic strength, didn’t you? I can tell by your muscles attachments. Um… Wow, your eyes really are that large, huh? Not just a kit thing, they’re just big.”

“Is that bad?”

“Um. No? It means you have a pretty face. The surface of your brain is quite well-textured, but I don’t need that to tell you’re intelligent-”

“Do Alteans have a flattery bone or is this a quality that’s unique to you?”

Lance laughs, Keith’s mirroring chuckle inches from his lips. He leans in, brushes their noses together. “I don’t have a flattery bone, nor is flattery unique to me. I just happen to be very, very good at it. Your hearts are beating very fast. Why?”

“You- I think you’re done now,” Keith whispers. Lance immediately pulls away, slips out of his system. But his fingers stay, toying with his dorsal fur, exploring the texture. It’s so different from his own. Alien.

Lance wants to learn all the differences between them, knows he’ll have to start slower than he is. He carefully removes his hand, slips it around Keith’s waist. “Better?”

“Almost.”

And Keith leans up, pressing their lips together, humming into the contact. It doesn’t spark arousal, but it sparks warmth, something he could easily get addicted to. It makes him feel wanted. Even... loved.

Lance tastes like a bright future.

[cosmicbash]

I have awoken in a feverish daze with one thought on my mind, cat boy em. Like normal Em but with super cute cat ears and a tail, Kells would lose his damn mind

"Pffffft-" Colson was struggling to contain what was bound to be stomach keeling cackle.

"They sent the wrong item okay-" Marshall looked beyond done with the situation, a faint flush of color coloring his cheekbones. 

The younger rapper knew his partner was telling the truth, that there had to have been a mistake in the order. But that wasn't going to stop him from taking delight in the conveniently ironic outcome. "Mhm."

His eyes were locked on the small box sitting on the brunette's lap, the contents inside it what had them in this comical situation in the first place.

It was a special order the older rapper had sent out for weeks earlier. Well, it was supposed to be his order. While it was from the same online store the item inside was far from the new custom silk restraints Marshall had requested. Instead a soft and almost uncannily realistic looking pair of cat ears and a tail sat curled up amongst the colorful paper stuffing.

Dark brown ones to be exact, almost the same exact shade as the older rapper's hair color from what Colson could gleam from where he was standing. 

"What a pain in the ass," Marshall was sighing, a hand coming up to stressfully rub at his temple while he tossed the box aside. "I'm gonna have to get on the phone with them and figure out how to return this shit and where our actual package ended up."

Colson couldn't help but be drawn to the box, his fingers reaching out to run over the soft faux fur. "Thought they have a strict no return policy, I mean, I wouldn't want to be accepting back any freaky sex toys-"

"Yeah but this has to be an exception, it's not even our order. Probably some weird kinky couple out there wondering where the hell their new fluffy butt plug is-"

Colson's eye's moved down to the tail, immediately locking on the small plug that did indeed rest at the base. "Whoa it's a plug? I thought it was like- like one you hook on- whoa." Examining it closer he realized it was actually detachable and could be converted into either. 

The quality was almost breathtaking.

"Of course it's a plug, the weirdos who are into that kinda stuff al-- put it the fuck down!" Marshall's hands slapped at his own and knocked him from his revere. "Don't go playing with it, they won't accept it back if it looks used at all-"

"They probably won't let us return it in the first place." Colson felt a bit miffed, their hands getting into a minor swat fight until he finally just snatched the whole box up off the bed. "Stop smacking me! I'm just- ow- I'm just saying- how would they know if we weren't just lieing about not using them? What, are they gonna test this crap? No. They'd be better off just not accepting it back-"

"Then it'll get tossed in the trash, I don't care! But until they say that, don't fucking touch it!"

The blonde almost felt like a child being reprimanded, or a sibling stuck in a game of tug of war with how Marshall and him were both pulling at the cardboard box.

The suggestion they just toss the albeit strange toys out had Colson feeling a bit defensive of them. It felt wasteful to just throw out something so artfully crafted, even if the subject matter was a bit cringey. Besides how often did people get an opportunity to explore some random fetish like this with high quality goods?

"You're being ridiculous! We should at least try them out, what's wearing a pair of fluffy ears going to hurt?"

His outburst finally seemed to shock the brunette into silence. A confused look crossing the mans face before he finally stuttered out a "W-what?"

Mind made up Colson hugged the box closer and took off towards the bathroom. Leaving his partner sat on the bed while he situated himself in front of the mirror.

There was no way the company would accept them back, not after the packaging itself had already been opened. 

Ignoring the tail altogether Colson focused on the soft fluffy ears, plucking them up out of the box to examine the mechanics. He expected a head band of some sort but instead they seemed to clip onto ones hair. 

Snapping them into place wasn't an easy feat however, Colson needed to squeeze really hard for the clip to click and when he was finished the ears were horribly lopsided. Not to mention how strange the dark fur looked in comparison to his own platinum hair.

Still he couldn't help but laugh a little and pop his head out into the doorway. "Fuck, aha, I don't think I did this right but- How do I look?"

Marshall's expression was one of downright discomfort. His mouth opening and closing a few times before he just shook his head and dropped his face down into his hands. And somehow that reaction was funnier than the look of the ears themselves. 

His earlier cackle came bubbling back up to the surface until he was stumbling back across the room. Tossing the box haphazardly onto the pillows so he could flop back and safely continue his laughing. "What? Don't I look cute? Ahahah, don't you just want to- to snuggle me?"

"You look out of your fucking mind, that's how you look-"

"Oh, cmon Marsh- is that any way to- to talk to your precious little kitten?" Colson could barely get the words out between laughs, his legs kicking in the air at his own poor jokes.

A slap to his chest only had him laughing harder. "Animal abuse! Animal abuse! Hit me again and I'll call Peta!"

"You're insufferable." Marshall was groaning and burying his face in his hands again. Despite his huffing Colson could still make out the faint shake in his shoulders. It only spurred him on. 

"Oh cmon, why don't you try being sweet to me and see if I'll purr-" that paired with his fingers sleazily trailing up the older mans arm finally had the rapper cracking. A snort escaping his mouth before the floodgates released and his shoulders began to properly shake from laughter. 

"If you start purring I'm gonna kick you outta this room, I mean it-"

Colson's chest felt light and warm when he realized Marshall was wiping wet tears from his eyes. The smile plastered on his face already hurt with how wide it was, but he couldn't help himself and purred loudly. 

The mock cat noise was cut off by Marshall dropping back onto his chest. An audible "oof" leaving his mouth while all the air was forced from his lungs. The man didn't even bother hiding his smirk, just sighed and reached up to tug at one of the cat ears.

"Ow-"

"They're on their pretty good huh?" Marshall's eyes finally twinkled with interest. Head tilting until his ear was pressed against the blonde's chest. It was a comforting sight to Colson, even if he was pretty sure the man was looking at him at his most unflattering angle with how his chin was pressed to his chest.

"Yeah- ow- fuck, stop- stop pulling on them." Swatting away the older males hand Colson decided it was time to pull them off. Before the guy ended up yanking his hair out by the roots. "One second-"

Another few painful moments of fiddling and he finally got them to unclamp, each ear plopping down onto the older's rappers tee as they were removed.

The brunette immediately plucked them up and began examining them more closely, blue eyes downcast and his expression mellowing. "They're softer than I thought they'd be-"

"Yeah, it's a really good quality faux fur-" Planting his hands on the mattress Colson moved to sit himself up.

To his surprise Marshall just lifted his back up long enough for the blonde to move before promptly settling back down against his thigh again. Fingers clicking the barrett part of one ear curiously.

With them now so close to the older rapper's beard and hair really could see the similarity in shade. It was uncanny. They almost looked made for Marshall specifically.

The suggestion left his mouth before he could stop himself. "Try them on-" Blue eyes finally darted up to meet his own yet again, and the confidence in his voice faltered. "I-I mean, I did, and- they- well, they match your hair better and-"

Suddenly his face felt like it was on fire, just the idea of Marshall actually wearing something like that enough to have his stomach feeling hot. 

The smaller rapper looked at him for another long moment, eyes boring into his own until he couldn't help but rub his hands over his face and backtrack. "O-Or don't! That works too-"

"Put them on for me-" A furry ear pressed against his knuckles. Peeking out from behind his hands Colson felt his tongue tie itself in a knot. His partner was looking at him expectantly  and shaking the offered ear. "I don't feel like getting up to use the mirror."

"Yo-Wait, are you serious? Okay!" The excitement in the younger rapper's voice was palpable and he could tell it amused Marshall by the way his mouth quirked up briefly. 

His fingers immediately ran through the short cropped dark hair atop his partner's head. Heart skipping from how much he loved the new longer length. "Do you think it's even long enough to clip?" He honestly didn't but that wasn't going to stop him from trying.

Colson plucked up one of the ears and curled himself over the brunette's head. Marshall gave a few yelps of complaint while he tugged and poked at his head but after a few minutes of trial and error he actually got the ear to snap into place. 

The second one went on a lot quicker and after another couple minutes of listening to Marshall yowl and curse he had the second one in place. Back finally able to straighten so he could admire his handiwork.

Colson immediately regretted his suggestion upon doing so. 

The soft blue gaze glaring up at him partnered with how perfectly the fur blended in with Marshall's hair felt like it lit his face on fire.

If he thought his tongue felt tangled before it most definitely was now.

"What?" Marshall's eyebrows furrowed closer together. "Why're you looking at me like that?"

"I-" 

"You?" Marshall motioned for him to continue and the action was so cute Colson's teeth hurt. 

"I think I've got a new kink-"

The palm to his face was expected, so was Marshall jerking his body up off of him. "Alright, they're going in the trash."

"What? No!" Colson couldn't let this new discovery about himself be crushed so quickly. "Don't take them off yet-"

Shooting back up the blonde looped his arms around the smaller rapper's back and dragged him back down onto the bed. Wrestling with him for a moment until he finally managed to pin the older man down. Hupd wiggled between his spread legs and fingers wrapped around his biceps. 

"Colson-"

"Please?" Colson knew he was being pathetic, shooting the other man such big puppy dog eyes over something as creepy this. But he couldn't help himself. "Just for a few more minutes?"

Marshall's eyes avoided his for a moment, face contorted up in a scowl before the man finally sagged back against the bed in acceptance. "Fine. But if you get fucking weird I'm gonna be the one calling PETA."

Snorting Colson swooped his head down to steal a quick kiss. Hands releasing their death grip to instead slide, palm down along his partners arms until he reached his wrists. "When aren't I fucking weird?"

"You-" Marshall gasped sharply when his palms moved down to push up his shirt. Colson's mouth nipping along the edge of the older man's fuzzy jaw. "You know what I mean brat-"

The scratch of beard against his face burned but it just reminded Colson of a cats tongue, rough and still somehow soft. 

Pulling back his eyes traveled back up to the fuzzy points sticking out of his partners head. Cock already swelling in his jeans while he reached one hand up to lightly tug at them.

The resistance from the clip and Marshall's hiss just made it seem all the more real. "God, they're so cute on you-" He wanted to bite them even though he knew realistically the other man wouldn't feel a thing.

Colson ended up nuzzling his face into one instead, the hand on Marshall's chest climbing until it could palm over a nipple. 

The responding jerk of hips and fingers tracing over his own ribs had Colson laughing. Mouth trailing back down to bite around the shell of Marshall's actual ear. The hand he had up fiddling with the cat dropping down to curl around the back of one thigh, hike their bodies closer together.

A satisfied groan rumbled between them, one that had Colson stealing the brunette's lips again. Hips rolling until another noise hummed between their mouths.

"Fuck-" he dropped his head down just as Marshall bared his throat. Lips sealing over the other man's pulse point to suck a mark. "God you even purr like a cat-"

The sharp tug on his hair signified Marshall's irritation but Colson just laughed and moved on to make another mark. Foot digging into the sheets so he could rock their bodies together in a soft steady rhythm.

The action only earned him more pleased noises, some that sounded like Marshall really was teasing him. Until he had both palms clutching the older rappers ass through his briefs, ever thankful of the man's inability to wear his pants properly.

A particularly satisfying roll of hips had him cursing. Their teeth clacking when he frantically connected their mouth's let again. The sight of Marshall with those cat ears had him so riled up he might actually come before they could actually fuck.

------

And Imma cut it here because the full answer is so damn long it doesnt actually fit! I did post the full smutty ficlet to ao3 however

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23379910/chapters/56023525

[queensdivas]

A Damned Soul Chapter 2 (A Gwil Fan Fic)

It’s all coming together! WHOOP WHOOP! If you would like to be tagged please let me know! If you got requests on one of the Bohrap boys or the dads! Please feel free to request! I hope you all enjoy because holy shit this is getting fun to write! 

@mexifangorl @leah-halliwell92 @bonafiderocketqueen @i-live-for-queen @its-funny-til-its-not @b-i-g-i-r-l-b-i @teathymewithben @mayofbrian @brianmydear @i-live-for-queen 

Previous Chapter 

Next chapter

Masterlist 

He viewed the world as the first cinematograph when he would be walking around this mortal world. The people in constant motion, the quality of viewing, and even trying to add the old piano music along for the ride. It was the only thing that was keeping him sane before walking into a church to drown himself in holy water. 

Fixing his black gloves as the coat man took his cloak off the from the hanger. He placed his dark purple hat on top of his head then prepared himself for the walk out to start his day. Breakfast was on his mind Walking out to the cool evening as the world changed into the fast moving of what he saw. 

Till his eyes drifted to her..is when the reality of how the world looks would come back to his sight. Hundreds of times he’s witnessed this moment...words still manage to fall short in this instance. It was how she carried herself around the world when he would see her. Always walking with a destination to go..strong footsteps..not light like some kind of fae.

To him..she was an absolute Goddess…

She walked down the street with a basket full of pastries to take home with her which I’m assuming was her little herb shop down the street from my home. Till a bum came running behind her, pushing her down and snatching her basket. 

“Thank you for the free pastries! You bitch!” He screamed as I held my cane up to hit him on his leg, collapsing before me and basically rolling all over the sidewalk in pain. Grabbing the basket from the ground as she dusted off her dress then smiling as I handed her basket back to her. 

“Ummm..thank you Sir Lee.” Her eyes always looked down when we would first come into contact. But never doing the lifting of the chin so we could meet. It was seeing her standing before me in embarrassment or even humility. 

The sunset was causing a little sunburned was beginning form which was time for me to get into the next building. Tipping my hat to her as I moved swiftly past her but her eyes lingering as they always do after we first meet.. 

“Wait..Sir Lee..if it’s not too much of a burden..may I ask… Oh never mind you look like in a hurry.” 

“No please..your want is my command.” She gulped as she hid her face again from me..I don’t mean to frighten her. Just these precious moments seem to fly by so damn quickly. 

“I know it’s not far..but will you please walk me home..if it’s out of your way then never mind. Oh never mind you’re too busy!” She scurried off before I could even give her my answer..which will always be yes.... 

When it comes to the sunlight and vampires. It is your enemy yes..but you won’t burst into a pile ashes with being in it. Eventually they become a little resistant to it so going outside to the world with the sun won't kill them. It’ll hurt a little bit at first so basically it’s like they’re getting a very bad sunburn. Luckily for Gwil. He’d been alive since the 7th century so the sun hadn’t been a major issue to keep himself alive. Still hurts after a little bit. 

In his bright red 63’ Corvette Stingray which stuck out like a sore thumb, traveling up along the coast in the strong winds of the night traveling along with him. He was determined that this would be the last time..or would just stay outside on the sunniest day of the year.

Parking at the cottage as the sun was already setting creating a gorgeous orange backdrop of what he would be viewing for when he wakes up from his slumber. The realtor came out of the cottage with her perky smile on her face and a large yellow folder for all the paperwork he has to sign. 

“Mr. Lee! It’s truly a pleasure doing business with you!” She shook my hand with her eyes trailing up and down my body. I can’t tell you how many damn times these women just keep staring at me like I’m some sort of eye candy to them. Quite revolting.

“Now you’re more than welcome to walk around to see how the movers got everything put together and ready to go.” This isn’t the first home I’ve had to buy over the millennials. Usually my home has been a castle, some large mansion, and large flat on a square. 

Sitting on top of the hill the cottage sat that was a pearl white color but was also a little into the hill so the top would be covered in grass. Keeps a nice natural temperature for the house. My new home was a little smaller than most of the grand places I’ve lived before. As in it’s not a castle, a mansion, or even large flat on the square. It had a living room, a bedroom that is pitch black..for obvious reasons. No kitchen which makes the living room much larger. Then of course a bathroom. 

“Now regarding the whole no kitchen. I can always expand the cottage for some room for a tiny little kitc.

“No kitchen needed. I plan on doing most of my cooking outside so to enjoy the view.” Lying to her as she nodded then placed the paperwork I needed to finish signing on the living room table. Scribbling down my signature on the lines so I could get this woman out of my hair. I’ve got things to start working on before tomorrow evening when she should be shopping for the catch of the day. 

“Please doing business with you mam and I hope we can do business again.” Practically shoving her out of the cottage then locking the door tightly. Might as well get some rest before I go grab some dinner.

The curtains were shut all over the living room of the cottage as I walked over to the record player. Usually some very light chants get me to fall asleep after a move such as this. Pressing the play button as the house was beginning to fill with beautiful music. 

IF it’s one thing I miss about the 13th century was the vast amount of chants that were sung all Sundays. Thought entering a church would practically be a death sentence for myself..walking by them in the early mornings after a night of hunting was always pleasurable. 

Entering into the bedroom to see a very large cat sitting in the middle of my bed. His tail softly moving on top of the covers, those very yellow green eyes were staring directly at me..as if he was planning on pouncing at any moment. Cats in this world are very interesting. The whole “cats have nine lives” is very real and to the point some cats have been with me for a very long time...all annoying with their meows and purs. 

“Look. As much as I love cats and all the so called happiness you bring to this world. I would prefer not to have you in my home. So c’mon.” Standing at the edge of the bed but he wasn’t moving an inch..stubborn feline! 

“Alright then you stubborn feline.” My hands reaching down to him as he began squinting at me. 

“Call me a feline again..I dare you ya bloody blood sucker!” Did...did he just talk…? That’s so damn impossible! I must be tired and a little bit of a headache most likely because I’m hungry! 

“Shocked to see a feline talking to you?” 

“HOLY SHIT!” Falling to the floor as I backed myself to the dresser! Stopping so that he wouldn’t pounce at me to scratch my eyes out!

“How the!?! What the!?” 

“Your really going to question why I’m talking? We live in a world with vampires, witches, and other mythical creatures. Is a talking cat really so bizarre that you threw yourself against the dresser?” He had a thick American accent which stung like a viper somehow! Still sitting on top of my bed but closer to the edge so we could have some sort of eye contact. 

“If I say yes...I get the feeling you’ll scratch my eyes out.” He sat in the middle of my legs. His ears pointed straight up as I tried to get this entire situation in my head. Like I said..I’ve had cats follow me around..but none of them have ever had some sort of conversation! 

“So you’re a talking cat...and you’re bothering me because…?” 

“I’ve heard of you before. You’re very famous for your tragic story. To some fellow immortals your story makes even Elvis Presley sad.” Elvis is alive? 

“Elvis is alive? I thought he died in 1970 or something…?” Rolling his eyes as he got down from the bed and even appeared bigger than what he was on the bed. His grey fur was very fluffy and his paws were massive for a cat. 

“You’re missing the point you idiot! Those of us who have been wandering this world since the beginning have seen heart aches and the destruction. But you..oh boy have you inspired the masses.” For an American cat his vocabulary is better than what I thought it would be. 

“So you’re bothering me because I inspired the masses?” 

“Nope. I’m here to help your dumbass because after watching this fail countless times..it’s now just utterly depressing.” This cat is making me feel absolutely stupid! A stupid cat is making me feel so god damn stupid! 

“You may call me Hyacinth! That’s what my last owner called me and I’ve liked the way it sounds. Now I’ve got to grab some dinner and your stomach growling is flooding my ears. So let’s go find some sort of grub!” Prancing off into the living room as I stayed there in shock. His head poking back into the room with annoyance written all over his face. 

Opening the door as he walked out to the front porch, looking around the coast before us. I’m feeling elk. DO you think I go running around eating whatever virgin blood is available? I got tired of human blood around the 14th century...mostly because that nasty plague.

We started walking along the coast in silence..trying to read each other’s thoughts, emotions, and not wanting to attack each other. He doesn’t plan on staying around does he? I need to get on with my life and this cat will get in the way with it! 

“So..Hyacinth. I know you said you’re here to help...but why and how do you plan on helping me?” We stopped walking as he entered the water a little then began searching for some sort of fish. 

“Like I said. Some of us have had enough of what happens. You think you’re alone in this world..but you’re not the only ones who’ve been completely thrown under the bus. We figured if we start with you..eventually we can all finally have some sort of peace in our lives. A spark has to..” He stopped to dive his head down then pulled out a tiny fish in his mouth. 

Their pools of blood crept into my nose with my eyes turning dark red. They’re so close..small animals have been doing the trick..but they’re so..juicy! A white cloudy trail appeared before me that would lead me to those Elk! I could distinctly hear their calm heart beats which was like hearing Beethovens symphony’s for the time! Loud! And so damn desirable! 

Squatting on the rock from a short distance to see their blood vessels flowing through each of their bodies. Which one was diseased, weak, pregnant, and the healthiest. My tongue grazing against my lips, my fangs beginning to grow from hunger. It's been so long since I’ve been fully filled..

It’s come down to the point where drinking human blood is just gross. Most humans blood these days are filled with so much damn sugar, diseases, drugs, and even to much damn coffee. But animal blood..no..wild animal blood that live on the richness of nature it was fuels me now. Mostly small animals..since I’ve been living in areas where Elk just don’t come to live in your backyard. 

Hyacinth wandered over to where I was drowning myself in my delectable meal. Once finished, he sat down next to me as I sat up. Licking the blood off my lips then beginning to clean myself up. 

“As she ever seen your true form?” Catching my breath as he looked up at me. 

“Yes..every time. She never cowards away..”

“I think I’m beginning to hatch a scheme for us. Oh yes..it’s all coming together.” 

[kamino-ink]

Wounds | Lee Minho

✧ Genre: Soulmate!au, floof, lowkey suggestive, uhh lemme get some anGst

✧ Summary: You’ve always been aware that Lee Minho was your soulmate, ever since you were kids - but you were too naïve about the world and figured waiting to tell him would be a better idea. Everything starts to go downhill when he says he thinks the system is utter bullshit.

✧ Word Count: 3.7k

✧ Want to read other parts of this series? Check out my masterlist!

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 The whole entire soulmate system was complete and utter bullshit. What kind of world were people to live in where you couldn’t choose who to love, rather the universe meticulously wrote it down in fine ink since the way you were born - nobody got a real choice. Obnoxious soulmate bonds tended to become true nuisances to most in their day to day lives, leaving little room for them to think about anything else, really. Why wait for that one person who could literally be anywhere on the fucking planet when you could find someone who you choose to fall in love with and cherish till the end of your days?

 Those were the exact words that poured out between Lee Minho’s pink lips, effectively sucking the life out of you the second he started to curse the very existence of soulmates yet again.

 “Dude, who put a stick up your ass this morning?” Changbin snorted from across the living room, bringing his glass of coke up to his lips and taking a long, drawn out sip with a quirked eyebrow.

 You felt your world - no, your entire universe start to crumble around your very being, sat upon the couch just inches away from brushing against the resilient man’s arms that he’d sourly crossed over his chest.

 “Come on Changbin, not everyone is as lucky as the rest of you fucks. For all I know my soulmate could be halfway across the world in another country. The possibility of us actually running into each other is zero to none.”

 “That makes it all the more exhilarating. Imagine finally meeting the person you are literally destined to be with on like, a vacation in Paris or some shit. Now that is some quality young adult romance material.”

 “Vacationing in Paris - yeah, with what fucking money?” Minho retorts sharply, dramatically waving his arms around to gesture all around his small studio apartment.

 “You’re so pessimistic, Lee. Any man or woman would be attracted to a nurse-”

 “Oh sure, because my paycheck is so good that I have to live in a fuckass apartment at my age - how dreamy.”

 Sure, Minho liked to talk shit about his studio apartment, and you couldn’t really blame him half of the time since his home was super small compared to his friends’ places; not to mention he lived right beside an apartment housing a couple that never stopped going at it. Whatever noise complaints he had were dismissed with a lazy shrug, meaning the poor guy had to stuff his ears in the dead of night just to get some decent sleep.

 But then again, he had turned the small living space into something quite nice and, obviously, livable. The walls were painted a plain white, but Minho has spiced up the place by sticking some brick wallpaper onto a couple of the walls, as well as hanging up cute little houseplants here and there, scattered about the apartment. He also had two cats who got their fur everywhere.

 Not that you were complaining.

 “Y/N agrees with me, right?” Minho snaps at Changbin, quickly turning all of his attention just onto you within seconds. “I mean you don’t even know what your connection to your soulmate is.”

 “N-nope, still don’t know for sure. Could be anything for all I know.” You replied, your voice shaking slightly out of sheer nervousness and hurt. Minho hadn’t meant to intentionally hurt your feelings, and especially not in such a crude manner, but you couldn’t help the tugging at your heartstrings with his blunt statements.

 “See? That’s my girl, always got my back.” The man coos playfully as he leans into your side, slinging an arm loosely over your shoulders from behind to pull your closer to him. “We don’t need that stupid soulmate shit, yeah? I’ll find a great man or woman to marry and you’ll do the same. We can do some cheesy stuff and go on double dates!”

 You find yourself falling into a daze while weakly nodding in fake agreement with your friend, shifting your gaze so you wouldn’t have to feel the pain of making eye contact with him. While Changbin quickly snaps back at the brunette, initiating yet another argument between them with you quite literally stuck in the middle of it all, you take a moment to look down at the sleeve of your hoodie on your left arm. The material has ridden up just enough for someone to possibly spot the gauze lining your skin, but you discretely slide the sleeve down your arm again before either of the two arguing men can notice.

 Minho, on the other hand, lets his bandaged wound be seen by the whole world, still donning his short-sleeved pajamas from the night before. It is in the exact same spot your wound was, decorating the skin of your left arm just under your marginally scraped elbow.

 The other day you’d been mindlessly wandering around the heart of the city after meeting up with Minho for a diner date - well it technically wasn’t labeled as a date, but it still felt like one; and that was real enough for you to accept, at least. In the midst of your otherwise peaceful walk back home, two younger girls had skated by on the already narrow sidewalk, one of them accidently shoving you to the ground in an attempt to catch up to her friend who’d managed to speed ahead of her. The worst of the impact had been on your elbow and left arm, since you’d immediately tried to lessen the pain of the fall by landing on that spot - course you underestimated the roughness of the cement, leaving you with an ugly spot of missing skin and a bloodied elbow.

 And of course Minho had to go through the same exact pain as you, since that was essentially your connection - or, lack for a better term, your soulmate bond. Whenever one of you injured yourself, whether it be a teensy papercut or a scrape on your leg, the other person got the same exact injury on their body in the very same place.

 “- but you still know what your soulmate connection is, dumbass! Your other half is out there somewhere, fuck they’re probably wondering where the hell you are by now!”

 “Well fuck them, alright!” The man beside you boomed loudly, having clearly lost any and all patience with your other friend across the room. “I get to choose who I fall in love with, and they’ll just have to suck it up and deal with it. In fact, I have a date on Thursday with a person who is not my soulmate, and she is a fantastic girl who also thinks this whole system is a bunch of horse-shit!”

 That was the last straw.

 You abruptly stand up from the plush gray couch, tossing Minho’s arm off of your shoulders and onto the comfy material in a rush of mixed emotions. Their voices that had been so relentless in their harsh jabs at one another suddenly converged into one stunning harmony, calling out to you in worry; one more so with confusion, the other oddly knowing. Bearing no other utterance of a goodbye, you slip on your shoes sat by the front door and hurry out of the cozy home, quietly shutting the door behind your still retreating figure.

 “W-why did Y/N run out like that? Did... did I say something?”

 Changbin sighed softly to himself, staring sympathetically at the empty spot on the couch next to the concerned nurse.

 “She really has faith in this stuff, Minho, you should know that by now. Out of all of us, I’m pretty sure she’s the one most looking forward to being with her soulmate one day.”

 “Jisung for the last time, I do not want to go to the fucking party.”

 “Aww come on, Y/N! It’ll be fun, I promise!”

 “No.”

 “... fine, but that means you’re letting me spend the night and picking out movies to watch.”

 See, that was why you liked Han Jisung so much; while the kid liked to go out and party until the sun rose above the hillside, he never tried to force you into attending one with him - he respected how you preferred to stay home on Saturdays, taking the day off to simply relax in the mindless comfort of your own home.

 “Tell you what, we’ll go to the damn party-”

 “Yes!”

 “- but afterwards you’re paying for pizza and friend chicken. Deal?”

 You also knew how much Jisung liked for you two to actually be together and hang out like the best friends you were. He often abandoned his plans just for you, so you figured doing the same for him couldn’t hurt too much.

 “Deal!”

 Needless to say, you had been incredibly wrong, straying so far from the truth that when it finally hit you like a ton of bricks, you quite nearly puked on the spot.

 The party Jisung had managed to drag you to was a simple high school one, which meant there were underaged teenagers drinking their night away and making out with upperclassmen that would graduate in just a few months time, promptly leaving the hopeful boys and girls in their trail of dust. You weren’t at all similar to them when you were their age, instead choosing to pine after one of your male best friends that just so happened to be your soulmate - the person fate destined you to be with for the rest of your life.

 Said soulmate was in the middle of shoving his sinful tongue down another woman’s throat, husky noises bubbling from between his plump, slightly bruised lips when you and the blonde senior had stumbled into a vacant bedroom to, you know, raid the shelves of video games and duke it out while the other teens fucked around downstairs.

 “Minho?” His name slips past your parted lips, though it doesn’t even come close to catching his attention, nor the woman’s. Only moments ago you’d been a giggling mess, stumbling up the wooden stairs with a bubbly Jisung in excitement since he had overheard that the host let one of the guest rooms upstairs be open for anyone who felt uncomfortable or wanted to just hang out during the mess that was most certainly a stereotypical high school bash.

 But now... now you can feel your already frail heart starting to shatter like glass inside your chest. Because you fucking blew it. You chose not to tell the man that you were his soulmate, and that he was yours - that you were in love with him.

 Because he always spewed nonsense about disliking the entire system since you were kids, you were inclined not to speak of your bond with him at the tender ages you were at back then - besides, you were still mere children that screamed cooties when someone of the opposite gender was even affectionate towards another. Surely his opinions would diverge in the future.

 Except, they never did; in anything he became even more upfront with his thoughts on the ideals of fate as time flew by, cursing and challenging the universe with every other breath he took. While his blunt words had always left a lingering sense of regret in the back of your mind, nothing could have possibly prepared you for the condemning feeling of heartbreak that rolled over your frozen figure in the doorway of the guest room.

 “Dude, what the fuck?”

 You can just barely make out Jisung’s snort of disapproval and disgust at the sight before the both of you, and for a fleeting moment you watch as the two moaning adults hurriedly pull back from one another’s bodies as if the other was burning like a candlestick.

 “A-ah shit - um, guys, this is Ginny. She’s the girl I went out with on Thursday.” The breathless man explains, offering an awkward smile that compliments his even more embarrassed, flushing cheeks while his brown gaze darts between his two friends and his date. There’s a bit of a tent in his pants and there’s crimson lipstick smeared across his lips and neck. If you two hadn’t accidently walked in, then they would’ve taken another step further.

 The mere thought of Minho, the man you had so helplessly fallen in love with, having sex with another person crushed your soul. He was his own person, yes, but you felt the selfish urge to claim him as your own because fate wrote it so. Fate destined you two to join in a loving union, and you had fallen into its deadly trap - perhaps that was why it hurt so much more than it would have, had you not fallen in love with your best friend.

 So like any logical person who happened to be foolishly in love with their best friend and also happened to coincidently walk in on said best friend having a rather heated make out session with another wonderful human being, you turned tail and shot down the stairs of the house, ignoring Jisung’s call of confusion and Minho’s stunned shout for you to come back.

 Yeah, as if any logical person would walk right back into the very room their best friend was so about to have sex in - what was he thinking?

 “Y-Y/N, wait up!”

 What was he thinking?

 “Come on baby, slow down!”

 What were you thinking?

 “What do you want, Minho?”

 Why had you chosen to fall in love with the one man that didn’t believe in soulmates?

 “I - fuck, I’m sorry you had to see... that.” He goes to apologize breathlessly, as if he hadn’t just tore your heart out of your chest and stomped on it repeatedly.

 “So am I.” Is all you can say in response, too afraid that any other words you might utter would seal your fate and his own; one of likely rejection or awkward silences between two people - one of which was in love with the other, the second friend only seeing the other as just that, a friend.

 His bruised lips part to speak again, but you decide that you really need to split before he can unknowingly cause a mental breakdown in your head. With a swift turn on the heels of your feet, you face the other direction and begin to walk through the semi-crowded kitchen, the tips of your fingers gliding across the countertops to help steer you away from the center of the drunk crowd of teenagers.

 Without warning a sharp, searing pain runs up your veins all the way to the nerves of your hand grazing the gray countertops - it takes all of your self control not to let out a yelp of pain, although a weak, befuddled whimper does escape your lips in the heat of the moment.

 “Ow - what the fuck?” Minho hissed in unison with your whimper of utter pain, having started to follow close behind you in the sea of teens hovering in the already cramped kitchen area. “The fuck just cut my fingers-? Wait, are you bleeding?”

 You’d been in the middle of raising your bloodied fingers to your eyes to investigate the new wounds, little cuts from a stray knife carelessly splayed on the countertop stretching across three of your five fingers when Minho directed his attention towards you downcast gaze and red fingertips.

 He glanced to your wounds, and then his own.

 He hadn’t been using the countertop as a guide like you had been, as his arms had been pressed firmly against his sides to prevent himself from brushing against the other partygoers.

 “Is - is this your connection, Y/N?”

 “Do you mean our connection, Minho? Or should I go ask the pretty redhead in the bedroom if her bond is where she can suddenly have injuries appear on her body because her clumsy soulmate never stops getting hurt?” You’re not quite sure why you’re so furious with the man, and you know that by tomorrow morning you’ll be sending him various messages of apologizes for your rash, hurtful jabs. You knew it wasn’t right, blaming him of all people - but it hurt.

 “Our... connection?” He fumbles on his words, his eyes now searching yours for undying consolation - and he finds it, flashing across your now teary eyes as you stare at him.

 You can recall when and where you figured out Lee Minho was your soulmate. The both of you lived in a rural town not too far from the heart of the bustling city, growing up around cattle and barrels of yellow hay rather than flashing lights and nights of blaring music in the clubs across the streets. Naturally the two of you had grown close, labelling each other as the other’s “super-duper-bestest-friend” by the ripe age of six.

 Neither of you knew too much about soulmates and all that mumbo-jumbo the older kids and adults talked about pretty much 24/7, choosing to block their sweet confessions of love and endearment to one another by running around the park closest to your houses or going for a dip in the pond behind your fence.

 That particular day, though, Minho had dragged you to the quaint pond filled with cute orange fish the size of your pinkies and green frogs that croaked well into the late hours of the night. He wanted to try out “fishing” by catching the orange fish with his bare hands, that of course being the first mistake that day.

 You chose to simply watch the adorable black haired boy splashing away in the chilly water of the lone pond, your bottom sat upon a rounded stone a couple feet away; perhaps half an hour had passed when suddenly you felt an odd stinging sensation on the palm of your right hand, and at the same exact time you recalled hearing Minho let out a shriek of pain as he slipped his right hand out of the pond to cradle it into his chest.

 But even after finding out that it was your special bond with Minho, your soulmate, you kept your connection secret all the way until now by simply stating that you weren’t sure what your bond was. You wanted to see if you could convince Minho to see that fate was written for a reason, though you never forced your ideals upon him no matter how much it stung to hear him scrutinize the deep bond between the two of you - not that he had known, obviously.

 “Baby - I didn’t know, I’m so sorry.”

 You cut off his apologies with a shake of your head, backing away while you now cradle your bloodied hand into your chest. “Nothing would have changed, Minho. I should have realized that so much sooner.”

 And then you walk away, leaving behind your soulmate to collect his thoughts.

 Sunday mornings were usually a state of calm serenity for you, since you didn’t have any classes or shifts at work. They were days that resembled healing in your eyes, especially since you really needed some good time alone after the events of the night before.

 You wanted to scream and cry into a pillow all day long, in all honesty.

 You’re still lying alone in bed, tucked underneath the warm layer of a fuzzy brown blanket you’d been gifted last Christmas wrapped around your body like a sushi roll when you hear the unmistakable sound of your doorbell ringing. You know damn well who it is and why they’re at your doorstep - but you didn't feel ready to face them and own up to your mistakes and critical words.

 Somehow you get yourself to roll out of bed, not bothering to look all too presentable as you slowly saunter all the way to the front door where he is certain to be waiting anxiously.

 I can do this, I can do this, I can-

 “-Before you shut the door on me, please hear me out,” Minho pleads out to you in a rush of breath, his hands behind his back as he takes your silence into consideration, “okay I think that’s the go-ahead... Y/N, I still think people should be given the chance to fall in love with whoever they choose to,”

 Did he really need to remind you?

 “but I also think I like you - scratch that, I know I like you more than as a friend. I never tried to make a move on you because our views differed so greatly, and I know it was wrong of me to try and make you see my point of view in the middle of an argument. You always seemed so excited about the prospect of being with your soulmate, which I guess is technically me from what I understand, so I backed off.” He admits, occasionally having to force himself to slow down and say each word carefully so he wouldn’t be too overbearing.

 “Minho - you don’t need to apologize, I do. I should have told you sooner that I knew.” You breathe out softly, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion when he vehemently shakes his head in disagreement.

 “Lets just stop right there, because we could keep apologizing to each other for days and I don’t think these poor things will live that long without fresh water.”

 “What-?”

 “Ta-da! Flowers for the lovely light of my life,” he hums cheerfully, bringing out a small but beautiful bouquet of flowers from behind his back to told them out in front of his face, peeking out form behind them with red cheeks and a nervous smile, “I um, I hope this isn’t too cheesy. I’m kinda hoping that you might give me a chance and go on a date with me-”

 “Of course I will, cheesehead - here, let me put these in a vase and we can discuss where we’ll be going on our date.”

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[croatian-magician]

A very bunny Christmas (part 1)

Pairing: Baleric

Summary: Gareth expected to spend Christmas alone and to be lonely that day. However, he didn’t expect to find a tiny rabbit under his Christmas tree, just like he didn’t expect that bunny to end up being so much more than what it appeared at first glance.

Wordcount: 4283

Notes: Huge thanks to Gabi for inspiring me this story, ily 😘

Gareth let out a huge sigh a he put his frozen prepared dish into the oven. On this Christmas Eve, he wanted to respect the tradition and eat turkey but he didn’t feel like cooking everything himself, not when he would spend the night alone anyway. He could have asked some of his friends to invite him at their home, sure, but he didn’t feel like bothering any of them during this important family dinner. It didn’t matter that much. It was just one single night, and then life would be normal again. Or at least, that’s why he tried to tell himself.

He went back to his living room, waiting for his meal to warm up. Here, his Christmas tree was shining brightly, all red and golden lights. Gareth was pretty proud of that. He really had fun decorating his house, he was only sad he had no one to share this Christmas spirit with.

A few gifts were already laying under the tree, given early by some of his friends. It warmed Gareth’s heart a little, although not enough to make him completely forget about his loneliness. He had spent his day working out, hoping the exercise would help him forget about this longing, this will to have someone to share this special moment with. Now he would be going to bed with sore muscles, but he could still feel the emptiness in his chest.

There were limits to his efforts to create a Christmas atmosphere in his home, though. Christmas stockings were hanging above the fireplace, sure, but it wasn’t lightened up, electric heaters warming up the house instead. He didn’t bother to put on any Christmas songs either. He had the feeling it would make him cry if he were to listen to it without anyone to sing it with.

Thankfully, the microwave timer soon called him back to reality. He walked to the kitchen again, but with no real conviction. When he burned his finger while trying to take the turkey out, he definitely decided that this day was cursed. He rushed to the bathroom to put a band-aid on the injury, only to come back to his dinner cold and looking pitiful.

At this point, Gareth didn’t even feel hungry anymore. However, he knew that as a professional footballer, it was important for him to follow his diet and not to miss any meal. So he still grabbed the plate and went to the living room. He decided to settle on the couch in front of the fireplace instead of sitting at his table, though. It would have only reminded him of his loneliness.

The food tasted bitter, and Gareth had no idea if it was because it was bad quality or if his sadness just made it feel that way. Anyway, he ate fast so the taste wouldn’t linger on his tongue for too long. Once he was done, he quickly put the cutlery in the dishwasher before getting ready to go to bed, eager for this day to finally end. Tomorrow, people would start putting the Christmas decorations down, and he would be able to continue with his life as if nothing happened.

He went to light off the Christmas tree for the night, but before he pushed the button to do so, he stopped for a second, the thought that had been plaguing him all evening finally making its way through his lips.

“I wish I had someone to share all this with…”

Nothing answered him but silence, and Gareth felt silly and stupid for talking all alone, like a madman. That was definitely his cue to leave for bed. The room went dark the moment the Christmas tree stopped shining and Gareth quickly made his way upstairs before crashing between the covers of his bed.

He didn’t even bother to take off his clothes, too disheartened to accomplish even such a simple task. Gareth curled up on himself, shivering a little even though the room was warm enough, pulling the sheets closer to his body. He quickly ran a hand on his head to free his long hair for the night, sighing as it fell on his shoulders.

As if to mock him, sleep didn’t come easily to him either, leaving Gareth to deal with his sad thoughts for at least an hour. He tried to shut it all down, to ignore the pain. He would not cry on Christmas day, he had promised himself that much. It didn’t matter if his eyes were watering when sleep finally came to him, as long as he didn’t let those tears come free.

Gareth didn’t even manage to have a peaceful rest. He would wake up every two hours, his heart racing because of nightmares he couldn’t remember. He hated it, hated how everything seemed to go against him today.

When his alarm clock finally rang, he was feeling more tired than when he went to bed and for a moment he considered just going back to sleep. It was a day off, after all, he could do whatever he wanted. But something compelled him to get up and to go on with his day. Maybe he could cook himself breakfast then go play golf. That always helped him to get out of his bad mood. The sky was still dark outside, but the sun would rise up by the time he’d been done eating.

He put on some slippers laying down the bed, then he made his way downstairs. As he was headed towards the kitchen, he decided to stop by his living room first to switch on the Christmas lights. It would make the day feel less gloomy, and Gareth could also kill two birds with one stone by opening the presents offered by his friends. At least that would bring some warmth back into his heart.

However, as the Christmas tree lighted up and shone bright in the room, Gareth gasped in surprise. There, right at the foot of the tree, was laying a small, white, fluffy rabbit. He seemed to be asleep, a golden bow wrapped around its neck, but he suddenly opened his eyes, woken up by Gareth’s cry of surprise.

The little animal crawled under the pine needles, frightened, as Gareth tried to figure out what was a bunny doing at his home. Maybe one of his friends had pulled a joke on him and would laugh at him when he would come back to training. But Gareth decided that the reason of his presence mattered less than the scared little being in front of him. He knelt so he could take a look at the shaking white fur ball hiding as best as he could, breathing heavily in fear. Gareth slowly reached for him, stopping his hand a few centimeters away from the frightened rabbit.

“Calm down, little guy. I won’t hurt you.” Gareth whispered in a reassuring tone, hoping it would be enough to make the little thing come out.

At first, it didn’t really help. The bunny only jumped back, looking even more afraid, his ears flattened against his head while his nose wiggled way too fast in sheer terror. Sensing his distress, Gareth stopped moving altogether, waiting for long minutes and ignoring how the position was slowly turning uncomfortable for his body.

After a while, the bunny’s curiosity won over his carefulness. He took small steps toward Gareth, until he could start smelling his hand, even rubbing his small nose against it. He was all soft fur and Gareth had to resist the urge to run his fingers over his head.

“See, it’s okay. You’re safe with me. Also this thing must be bothering you, let’s take it off”

The rabbit rose his head towards Gareth, but this time, he didn’t try to run away, allowing him to remove the bow encircling his neck. The Welsh man was confused on how to proceed once that was done. He didn’t want to scare the little animal, but he couldn’t let him run free in his house either. A few looks around showed him that he had already started chewing at the wires of the Christmas lights during the night, and he was pretty sure that it was dangerous for him.

“Don’t be afraid, I need to pick you up, okay? Just the time for me to figure out what is going on and to learn how to care for you.”

He slid one big hand under the bunny, using the other to pull him close to his chest. He expected the little fur ball to squirm and wiggle against him, trying to get free, but instead the rabbit just froze, and Gareth could swear he looked surprised. He didn’t dwell too much on it though, gently caressing the bunny’s ears as well at the top of his head, hoping it would help to make him feel safer. It seemed to work because the animal quickly curled up against him, even licking Gareth’s hand affectionately. He smiled fondly before getting on the couch and putting the bunny there.

The moment he let him down, the bunny started shaking a little and his ears fell back as he obviously missed the human’s touch. This startled Gareth and he rubbed the back of his head, confused at the rabbit’s behavior. He didn’t know those animals that well, but he was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to be so trusting that quickly. Not that he would complain if it made things easier for him, though.

“Poor buddy, you must be cold. Don’t worry, I’ll light up the fireplace and it’ll warm you up, then I’ll look up how to take care of you.”

At first, the bunny tried to get off the couch, but in the end he decided to curl up into a ball and just wait after Gareth petted him for a little while.

As he put wood into the fireplace, Gareth couldn’t help but keep glancing at the rabbit. The reasonable side of his mind told him to find who offered him a bunny as a joke, then to bring back the little animal to where he came from. But just thinking of bringing him back to a pet shop or to a shelter, something in Gareth broke. He… He just couldn’t do it. Not now that the bunny seemed to trust him with all his small little heart.

Gareth stroke a match and the fire soon started taking in the fireplace. The bunny wiggled his nose, instinctively getting closer to the warmth. Gareth smiled and tentatively put a hand over his long ears before starting caressing him. The rabbit started gritting his teeth together, and it emitted a soft sound, barely audible, that somehow sounded like a purr. At first, Gareth feared that it was a sign of pain from his part, but he soon was proved otherwise when the bunny started nibbling gently at his hand when he tried to pull away.

“Someone likes to be taken care of, eh?” He laughed, doting over how soft the bunny was. “Can I take my hand back for a moment, though? I need to make a few calls, okay?”

In other circumstances, Gareth would have deemed himself stupid for talking to an animal, but there was just something different about that bunny, about the way he moved his ears and stared at Gareth, as if he could understand him.

First, he started calling all his friends, one after another, starting with his Real Madrid teammates. He hoped one of them would be responsible for this mess, but all of them were confused when he started evoking the white rabbit who had settled lazily on his lap, rolling on his side. Gareth was almost sure he saw the little fucker’s eyes lightening up each time one of his friends told him they weren’t involved in the bunny mystery in any way. It soon became clear that he wouldn’t get an explanation on why he had found a rabbit under his Christmas tree. Now the most important was for Gareth to take great care of him.

He reached for his computer, before making a few searches on how to take care of a bunny. He read everything eagerly, though laughing a bit bitterly when reading lines on how it was better to think things through and to prepare everything before getting a rabbit. Well, too late for that. His fluffy guy was already part of his life.

Some of the things he read left him all confused, though, because his bunny certainly wasn’t responding as he should have been. For a start, most rabbits hated to be picked up, it seemed, but his bunny had seemed so at peace in his arms, accepting to be carried and petted without any struggle. Gareth wouldn’t complain about that though. He was a bit more worried upon learning that rabbits were quite frail animals. The simple idea of any harm coming to his new protegee made him boil from inside. As he ran a gentle hand over his bunny’s belly, he promised himself to always, always protect him from all the bad things that could come his way.

He also read a lot over how he should choose between giving the bunny free reign in his house or putting him in a cage and letting him wander out only a few hours a day. For Gareth, there wasn’t even a question here. He wanted to give him as much liberty as he could. After all, the poor little fellow didn’t choose to end up here, under his Christmas tree. Maybe he didn’t wait for long before taking the decision of taking him, but deep in his heart, he knew that it was the right thing to do. Also, with the little bunny around, living the life all sprawled up on Gareth’s lap, his new proud owner suddenly didn’t feel as lonely as before.

He soon understood that he would need many supplies to take care of his bunny, but one small problem quickly appeared to his mind: there was no way he would find an open store to buy all that on Christmas day! Which meant he would need to take care of his bunny with what he already had at home, and nothing more.

First, that meant keeping the bunny away from anything he could chew. He might look peaceful for now, sleeping and being all docile, but maybe it would change once he would get more energy back in. So it would be a challenge for Gareth to protect at the same time his little bunny and his furniture.

As for what to feed his bunny, he still had some salad and fresh vegetable in his fridge. He hoped it would be enough until he could get his hand on some hay to make proper meals for his rabbit. That would meant not exercising today so that Gareth could keep an eye on him. Oh well. It was only a small sacrifice, when he thought about the joy that his unexpected new friend brought him.

The rest of the day went by surprisingly fast. His bunny proved to be an attention seeker, always demanding to be petted or entertained. Gareth didn’t mind though, and he had the biggest laugh upon seeing the bunny’s eyes lightening up when he offered him some salad leaves. He almost wasn’t surprised when he discovered that the rabbit wouldn’t mind eating food directly from his hand. Somehow, a strong bond seemed to already exist between them, one that Gareth didn’t quite understand yet but cherished with all his heart.

However, when it was time for him to go to sleep, Gareth had to face a new problem. He couldn’t just let his bunny wander around in his living room when it wasn’t safe for him, but he didn’t feel like locking him up in a box either. He felt like it would break the trust the little animal put in him, and he couldn’t have that. Just like he couldn’t abandon him to spend the night all alone in the dark. Gareth felt silly, but in the end, he brought the bunny to his room, the rabbit jumping happily on his bed, making his owner smile.

“Looks like someone won that battle.” He chuckled before getting close so he could rub the space between his ears.

The bunny pushed his head against Gareth’s hand, making the tall man chuckle. Then he laid obediently on the bed near the pillow while his owner put on night clothes before climbing between the covers. The bunny sniffed him thoroughly before licking his cheek lovingly, his whiskers brushing against Gareth’s skin.

“Hey, stop that! It tickles!”

Gareth tried to put his hand between his face and the bunny, but he only started nibbling at his fingers, annoyed that his human wasn’t enjoying his demonstration of affection. In the end, the Welsh man sighed and pulled him close to his chest, all while being careful to stay gentle with him. Once there, the bunny froze, before curling up all against Gareth. He smiled and put a hand over his small body, the rabbit barely shifting under his fingers, too happy to have found such a nice spot for the night. They both quickly fell asleep, Gareth feeling like a new man now that he had someone to take for.

The next day was hectic. Gareth got out of bed early, quietly leaving the room without waking up the sleeping bunny, assuming it would be better if his protegee didn’t realize he was gone. He got dressed up and left the house without a sound, all ready to make groceries for his rabbit. He was being very thorough with it, having written a list of everything he needed to buy for his bunny. Being a professional footballer allowed him to have the money to spoil him with the best toys, and maybe he exaggerated a little bit with that, spending more on it than he should have, but he wanted the best for the adorable fluff ball currently sleeping on his bed.

All through his shopping, he was throwing anxious looks at his watch, not wanting to spend too much time outside while his bunny was left alone. He didn’t want the poor thing to be stressed if it woke up alone, with no one to care for him. So after buying all the necessary thing, Gareth hurried to get back home so he could make sure his new pet was alright.

He walked quietly into his house before making his way to the bedroom. He opened the door carefully, in case the bunny would try to escape, but he smiled fondly when he found him curled him on the covers, still sleeping soundly. Gareth sat next to him, mesmerized by the way the rabbit’s small chest slowly went up and down. For him to let his guard down like that, he had to already trust Gareth an awful lot. The Welsh man didn’t know what he did to deserve such love, but he was determined to prove himself worthy of it.

Very gently, Gareth started caressing the bunny, running his fingers over his back. After a while, the animal started moving in his sleep, even rolling on the side to expose his tummy. For the first time, Gareth noticed a brown spot of fur near one of his forelegs. So not an entirely white rabbit, then. For some reason, this little imperfection made him even more endearing in Gareth’s eyes.

When he started rubbing the rabbit’s ears, the fluffy little being wiggled his nose right before opening his eyes. He looked confused at first, so Gareth stopped his motion so he wouldn’t scare him off. The bunny examined his surroundings, somewhat distressed, his ears flattened down. But they quickly rose up the moment he spotted Gareth and he ran onto his owner laps, rubbing his head against his stomach. The man laughed before putting a warm hand over the bunny, inviting him to snuggle close.

“It’s okay, I’m here to take care of you, my fluffy little guy.”

Gareth stayed like that for a while, just enjoying their closeness, chuckling when the bunny tried to rise up on his hind legs to lick at his chin but being too small to achieve that.

“I know you like me, but I bought some things for you and I need to get that out of the car.”

Once more, the rabbit didn’t protest when Gareth carefully picked him up so he could take him downstairs. Holding him like that, the Welsh man could even feel his heartbeat under his hand, but it was calm, steady, not racing at all contrary to what he could have expected.

“I can’t believe you’re putting so much trust in me, but I’m so happy you do…” Gareth murmured.

He was still mad at the person who had left the little bunny here, no matter who it was. Not because he didn’t want him here, but because he felt sick to his stomach just to imagine what could have happened to the poor bunny if he had ended up under the Christmas tree of someone who wouldn’t have cared for him.

Once downstairs, Gareth rummaged around until he found a cardboard box. He carefully put the bunny in it, though the hurt and lost expression of his pet immediately made him feel bad about himself. He scratched him between the ears, hoping it would be enough for the bunny to feel warm and loved and to understand that this wasn’t a punishment.

“Calm down, little guy. I’ll be back soon, I promise, and then I’ll let you wander all over the house, I promise. But first, I need to make it all safe for you, okay?”

After saying that, Gareth went out to bring all the supplies from his car to his house. The first few travels went without problems, but when he brought the last box of toys home, he found his bunny waiting for him in front of the door with big, shiny eyes full of expectation. Gareth let out a huge sighed before putting the box down so he could pet a really proud of himself bunny.

“You jumped out of that box, right? Well I guess I should have expected that. Maybe I could let you out if I keep an eye on you.”

Once more, he spotted a flicker of intelligence in the bunny’s eyes. The animal walked to his feet, suddenly taking on the most docile and innocent expression, one that immediately melted Gareth’s heart.

“Fine, you won, you can stay with me. But if you run away too far, you’re back in the box.”

The bunny wiggled his ears happily, and he started following Gareth around as he worked in the house. Bunny proofing everything ended up being hard work, especially when his little rabbit couldn’t help but try to chew at things from time to time. Gareth lost count of how many times he scolded him, only to comfort him with a hug right back after when his bunny started looking sad. By the end, he even suspected the animal to know quite well that what he was doing was wrong, but to go with it anyway just to get cuddles.

Once his whole house was equipped to welcome his little pet, Gareth soon discovered that living with his bunny was easier, way easier than he had imagined it at first. The little guy would always beg him for cuddles, and when Gareth went back to training for the first time, he was welcomed by his rabbit racing towards him once he came home, licking him all over once Gareth took him in his arms.

Maybe it sounded a little bit dramatic, but he hadn’t felt that loved in years.

Gareth had only found his bunny under his Christmas tree a few days ago, but it already changed his life in the best way possible. He was laying lazily on his sofa, the TV switched on and his bunny laying on his chest, cuddling happily with him. However, the little thing soon got more daring, climbing his way to Gareth’s neck. The Welsh man let him do so, amused at his behavior, ready to receive a few licks. He had learned that this meant his bunny was actually trying to groom him and he found it utterly adorable. Oh, who was he kidding. He found everything his bunny did adorable.

However, instead of stopping at his chin, his bunny’s nose bumped against Gareth’s, his whiskers tickling his face. But then, the bunny directed his attention a little lower, licking at Gareth’s lips and suddenly everything changed. His rabbit disappeared, only to be replaced by a handsome man laying with all his weight on top of Gareth, their lips connected together.

Once they parted, Gareth blinked a few times, not believing his own eyes. This stranger looked incredibly cute, with his hazel eyes staring fondly at Gareth. The Welsh man couldn’t believe so much love could be directed at him. With a shaking hand, he brushed soft, golden locks of hair, only for the stranger to move his head so that his cheek would be up against Gareth’s fingers, nuzzling it a little.

For a moment, this action confused Gareth, but then he spotted them. Two long, white, bunny ears protruding from the top of the stranger’s head. No matter how unbelievable it seemed, everything clicked quickly in Gareth’s mind.

The little bunny he adopted on Christmas day and the small hybrid cuddled against him were one and the same.

Taglist:  @esparafuso @smolmandzo @puolendollarinonni @arduango @sejan-is-love @ante-ray-bitch @winters-chiid @pachua @crazy-for-lovren @ppumpkines

[a-corndog-named-schibbs]

Fangs, Fur, and Phantoms - Chapter 5

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Next Chapter

Back at it again with more spooky fun.  Coran finds weird uses for a communion wafer.  Lance accepts an offer he’d rather refuse.  Answers are finally found.

Note: Contains religion (Note within a note: author was raised Protestant. If you’re familiar with Catholic liturgy and notice she got something wrong, please let her know so she can fix it)

Enjoy!

“God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself  and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church, may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

“Amen,” Lance murmured.

“May the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary and of all the saints, whatever good you do and suffering you endure heal your sins, help you to grow in holiness, and reward you with eternal life. Go in peace.” Coran said from the other side of the screen.

“Already got the eternal life bit, thanks,” said Lance, under his breath.

“Do we need to do this again so you can confess to sassing a prophet?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Lance stepped out of the confession booth.

“How about Mass?  When was the last time you had that?” Coran asked, also exiting the booth.

“I think I can go without tonight.”

“Well, let’s test that, shall we?” said Coran, reaching over to the altar and picking up a communion wafer from the dish.  He approached Lance and pressed the wafer to his forehead.

Lance winced.  When Coran pulled the wafer away, a slight pink mark appeared where it had been.

“Better to be safe than sorry.  I’ll get the blood bag.”

“It didn’t hurt that much…”

“It’s not supposed to hurt at all,” Coran pointed out, “If you want to take care of your immortal soul then you’ve got to take the treatments.”

Lance sighed, “Oh, all right.”  He certainly understood why he took Mass.  He was the one who had asked Coran to help him find a way to do so, his family’s faith one of the few ties to his past he had left.  That didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating, having to take Mass nearly every night just so he could walk past a crucifix without fear of getting a headache.

Lance watched as Coran retrieved the cup used specifically for vampire-friendly Mass (no need for the other congregants to drink wine from a cup that had had blood in it the night before) and poured blood from a blood bag into it.  He then recited the invocation and presented Lance with the cup.  Lance drank it down.

“There,” said Coran, “Let’s try this again.”  He picked up the communion wafer and touched it to Lance’s forehead once more.

“Nothing,” said Lance, “Now you’re just a guy holding a cracker up to another guy’s forehead.”

“Good.  That means it worked,” Coran set the wafer down and patted Lance on the shoulder, “I’m glad you stopped by tonight, Lance, it’s always nice to see you.  Tell Keith I said hi and try not to get into too much trouble.”

Lance smirked, “But you’d be out of a job if I didn’t.”

“I’m serious, son.  If you come in here next week and tell me that you’ve…I don’t know…eaten a five-year-old or something—“

“Coran!  I would never!  Five-year-olds aren’t nearly ripe enough to eat.”

Coran raised an eyebrow.

“Kidding, just kidding,” said Lance, “You take care of yourself, Coran.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As Lance exited St. Groggery’s, he noticed a man across the street, standing by a rather expensive-looking car and illuminating the pavement with his phone’s flashlight.

The man looked up and noticed him, “Excuse me, do you think you can help me with something?”

Lance crossed the street, “What do you need, man?”

“I seem to have dropped my keys, could you help me find them?”

Lance almost didn’t catch the man’s words.  Up close, he was strikingly attractive.  Tall as hell and slender, but not without muscle.  His facial features were an elegant, refined sort of handsome and his long platinum-blond hair showed signs of being well cared-for.

“Sure,” said Lance, “Sure, let me just…” He knelt down and peeked under the car while the stranger held the flashlight, not that he needed it to see in the dark.  After a moment, he spotted the keys and fished them out.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you so much.  I was worried they’d gone down a storm drain.  I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along.”  The man put his hand on Lance’s arm.  Lance had mixed feelings about the gesture, though he couldn’t seem to bring himself to shake the other man off.

“Oh, it was nothing really.”

“Still, I’d like to show my gratitude in some way.  How about I get you a drink?”

“I, uh, I don’t drink…alcohol.”

“I know,” said the man, pulling the collar of his shirt down slightly to reveal his collarbone.

Bad idea, said Lance’s brain, even as his arms reached for the man and his legs carried him forward.

The man pulled him into a nearby alleyway and pressed him against the wall.  Lance’s head spun.  He could already smell the man’s blood, could practically taste it on his tongue.  It would taste so good to have blood straight from the source for once.  The last time he had had a fresh meal was…

That snapped Lance out of his trance.  The only person he did this with anymore was Keith.  You just got out of confession and already you’re trying to eat from a stranger, what’s wrong with you?  Lance took a step back, “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t.  I need to get home—“

His words were cut off as the man shoved him backwards against the wall, a hand wrapped around his throat.  Lance tried to shake him off, but the stranger only pushed him harder into the bricks, lifting him off his feet with astonishing strength.  Lance squirmed against the man’s grip.  It would take more than choking to kill him, but the lack of oxygen was making his head spin.

Something hard and pointed pressed against his chest, right above his heart.  Lance looked down.  The man was holding a wooden stake, poised to stab him with it.

“I assume you know what that is.  If you so much as scream, it’ll be the last noise you ever make.”

The man set Lance back on his feet.

“What do you want?” Lance hissed, rubbing his throat.

“You’ve encountered two individuals by the names of Agents Shirogane and Prince, yes?”

“Yeah…” said Lance, remembering the agents that had come to Keith’s house the other day.

“They work for an organization known as the Paranormal Bureau of Investigation.  An organization that hunts down creatures like you and me.”

“What’s your point?”

“I want you to kill them for me.”

Lance’s lip curled in disgust, “Let’s assume I have any intention of humoring you.  Give me one good reason why I should do this.”

“Besides the fact that they would hunt you down and throw you in a cage if they knew what you are?”

Lance shrugged, “Plenty of people have tried to hunt me down before.  No one’s caught me yet.”

“I figured you’d need a bit of extra motivation,” the man pulled out his phone and pulled up an image, “How about this, then?”

Lance’s stomach dropped.  A picture of Keith filled the screen.

“He’s your lover, isn’t he?  Such a handsome boy…It would certainly be a shame if anything unfortunate happened to that lovely face.”

“Listen,” Lance growled, “If you think you can scare me…”

“Not good enough?  How about this, then,”  The man swiped across the screen and an image of two children playing in a backyard slid into view.  The picture was slightly blurry, as though it was taken covertly.

“These are your…oh, what was it?…great-great-grandchildren?  I don’t know how you keep track.  Their names are Nadia and Sylvio, aren’t they?”

“You wouldn’t dare…” whispered Lance.

“You don’t want to know what I would dare to do.”  The man let Lance go.  “You have until Saturday.  If Agents Shirogane and Prince are not dead by then, I will personally track down and kill everyone you love.  Oh, and one more thing,” the man turned and faced Lance once more, “When you do kill those agents, be sure to tell them Lotor sent you.”

***

In addition to its quality coffee and friendly customer service, Mochas & Magic also sold second-hand books.  Allura figured that was as good a place as any to do research on local folklore.

She had decided to perform this particular task solo.  Shiro was busy interviewing Mr. and Mrs. Griffin about the incident and Allura figured she might get better results if she went alone anyway.  If this Colleen woman’s daughter really had information on New Altea’s supernatural population, she might benefit more from a girl-to-girl chat.

As Allura pushed open the door to the coffee shop, she heard Colleen’s voice ring out, “Welcome to Mochas & Magic!  Come on in!”

Colleen was stationed behind the register today.  Beside her was a rather large young man in an apron, sliding trays of blueberry scones into the display case.

“Oh, I remember you,” said Colleen, as Allura approached the counter, “You and that young man were in here yesterday, talking about vampires.”

“Yes, that, uh, that was me,” said Allura, trying to keep her voice down.  The young man in the apron was giving her a strange look.  “You mentioned your daughter knowing a lot about folklore.  I was wondering if I could talk with her for a bit.”

“Well, I’m sure she’d be happy to discuss it with you.  Hunk, do you know where Katie is?”

“I think she’s shelving books right now,” said Hunk, still not taking his eyes off of Allura.

“Thank you,” said Allura, “That’s very helpful of you.”

“Are you writing a YA novel?” said Colleen.

“Hm?”

“Is your research for a YA novel?  We get a lot of authors in here doing research for novels they’re writing.”

“It’s just for a personal project,” said Allura, before making her way to the bookstore section of the shop.

A young woman in her early twenties was stocking the shelves, climbing a stepladder to reach the highest ones.  She had short, brown hair and large, round glasses.

“I’m almost done,” the woman said, “One moment.”

“Are you Katie?” asked Allura.

“Yeah, but you can call me Pidge,” the woman said, stepping down from the ladder, “What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping you could help me find some books on a certain subject,” said Allura, casually scanning the bookshelf nearest to her.

“Depends on the subject, I guess,” said Pidge, “What were you looking for?”

Allura picked up one of the books off the shelf.  The cover was emblazoned with the word Beowulf.  She flipped through the pages idly.  “I’m just looking for information on some of the creatures in this area.”

“Like what?  Foxes and raccoons?”

“More like werewolves and vampires.”

There was the barest flicker of worry on Pidge’s face, but it soon disappeared.  “I hate to disappoint you, ma’am, but creatures like that don’t actually exist.”

“But your mother said people came here to research the subject all the time.”

“Well, yeah, but not like actual researchers.  Cryptid hunters and teen romance novelists, those kinds of people.”

“So you’re saying supernatural beings aren’t actually real?”

“That’s absolutely what I’m saying, yes.”

Without warning, Allura tossed the book she was holding directly at Pidge’s head.  Pidge yelped and held up her hand and the book stopped just short of her face, hovering in midair.

“Are you sure?” said Allura.

Pidge lowered her hand and the book dropped to the ground, falling open, “Well, shit.  You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Well, now that we’re done with the playacting, we can get straight to business.  What can you tell me about the werewolves in this area?”

But Pidge didn’t seem to be in a cooperative mood at the moment.  “You’re one of the agents who interviewed Keith, aren’t you?” she said.

“So you know Mr. Kogane, do you?  Can you tell me anything about his whereabouts on the night of James Griffin’s death?”

“I knew it!” said Pidge, ignoring her question, “I knew there was some sort of men-in-black thing for supernatural beings.  Are you part of the government?”

“Now who’s being a conspiracy theorist?”

“It’s not a conspiracy theory if you’re right.”

“Look,” said Allura, “I don’t want to accuse your friend any more than you do.  If there’s anything, anything at all you can share with me that might help clear his name, it would go a long way toward helping him.”

Pidge sighed, “Listen, I can’t give you any hard evidence, but whatever you’re looking for, whatever killed Griffin, it’s not a werewolf.”

“I’m not saying I don’t believe you,” said Allura, “but how do you know this?”

“Because I did some scrying.  We went to the place where the body was found and I contacted Griffin’s spirit and saw what he saw when he died.  And let me tell you, it wasn’t a werewolf that killed him.”

“Well, what was it, then?” said Allura, “Can you describe it?”

“It was dark, so Griffin didn’t get a good look at it.  But it was big.  Bigger than a werewolf, that’s for sure.”

“So, a bear?”

Pidge shook her head, “Bigger than that, even.  And it had these horns…”  She held up her hands near her head to illustrate, “And these eyes that glowed and it looked like…like a…”  She glanced down to think and froze.

“Like what?” said Allura.

“Like that.”

Pidge pointed down at the book on the floor by her feet.  It was open to an illustration depicting a huge, horned creature with a human grasped in its enormous hand.  The caption on the page read, “Grendel carrying his prey to his lair”.

For a moment, Pidge and Allura could barely move.  Then, Pidge scooped up the book.  “I have to show this to Hunk.”

“I have to make a phone call,” said Allura as Pidge left the room.

Allura pulled out her cell phone and called Shiro.  “Come on, please pick up, please pick up, it’s important.”

After the second ring, Shiro answered, “Allura?  Something wrong?”

“Shiro, you owe that Kogane kid an apology.”

“Hmm?  Why’s that?”

“Because I think I just figured out what actually killed James Griffin.”

[yi-dashi-a]

//The first P-P-P-P-Public Transport Drabble in a while, I think? Needed to purge the dumb creative writing assignment from uni from my system with some Yi Parent fluff. Nothing better than writing about two dead ass people, amirite?

  Something something spending all that time hunting Jhin makes a Wuju Master a sappy boy, especially when you see so many families get fricked off while you’re away from your own. Sad wife also, because the other side of the equation is complicated too.

Dearest and Most Esteemed Mystic,

I write to you in the hopes that this letter finds you in the best of health. Better health, hopefully, than caring for me with your ceaseless devotion would have you in. Zhyun weather treats us all well, but the demon of the lands terrorizes the people still. I dare not to recount the things I’ve seen in my wandering, but let it be known that I am reminded every day of you, our own family, and the safety and sanctity we enjoy where others do not. Though we take no part in active investigation anymore, we at least hope our coordinated efforts with the Kinkou shall end these predations soon.

But to you, my wife, I say with certainty: Not a day goes by that I don’t see a flower, tree, bird in the sky, or even the aesthetic dance of shadow that doesn’t remind me of your boundless beauty, grace, and every redeeming quality I’ve been in awe of for the last forty years of my life. None of these compare to that which you encapsulate of course, and you might even think me senile if I see you in all places like I do. But, I suppose, I simply miss you, Huan. I’m refreshed by the chance to travel, but it’s nothing but a chore without you by my side. I’ve been pressing flowers, as the land allows, so I hope these will bring some of this adventure back to you.

I’m composing a play, in fact, about this entire ordeal. Writing things down when my Master isn’t around to chide me. Nothing of the blood and sorrow of these lands selfishly, but of a demon who sought to keep loves apart, and who thwarts his letters with ill thoughts. I’ll have your name remembered somehow, Huan. I’d weep if it went unrecorded to history like so many other wives of Wuju Masters. Hopefully, when I return, you’ll like it enough to watch me put drum beats and dance steps to the story?

With a heavy heart though, I must close this letter, for I only have so much parchment with which to write. I know you much prefer these trinkets than the personal ways we have always communicated at distance, so keep this well if you so desire. Burn it otherwise. Do whatever it is that makes you feel better. I look forward always to the day which I return to your side.

Always, and always,

Yi Chao

Always, and always.

That was, funnily enough, how he always signed his letters. Always with some reaffirmation of their life long bond, and then the always, and always. It made her giddy, in a teenage lover sort of fashion. Even if most would call her elderly, his words had their way of resting upon her heart and revitalizing her spirit. She hugged the ragged letter close to her chest, hoping the words would imprint on her forevermore. Though as if the writing was tactile to her, her fingers on the back face of the parchment noted a discrepancy in texture. When she turned the pages over, her brow raised as she scanned what appeared to be odd notation. Something she thought she should recognise, yet the meaning escaped her.

“Chao, your ways astound me, at times.” She remarked to herself, not braced for a reply,

“They astound me too, if I’m honest.” A gasp left her before her cordial nature could suppress it, and she recoiled from the source a moment before she could take the man in properly. In all her reading, she hadn’t felt illusion sweep her away,

“Chao!”

“Good evening, Wushi Mu.” He offered with the slightest smile, a warm expression that only grew when she leapt for him with arms out wide. Though there was a fantastical quality to his visage -- he felt more like a plush toy than a man of flesh and magical prowess -- she took him in her embrace all the same.

“This isn’t fair, Chao.” She whined into his chest, “I’ve told you, don’t use your telepathy unannounced. It’ll make me cry.”

“I’m sorry.” He laughed, of all things, “I just had a twinge in my mind. I felt it across Ionia. You were reading a letter of mine and feeling sad. I couldn’t help myself.”

“And I can’t help myself either, Wushi Fu.” Finally, Huan rose from the depths of her embrace, looking up to the man and his forever creased featured, hoping he didn’t notice the new wrinkles on her own, “You write me such niceties, and they both satiate my heart and hollow it. I’ll miss you so long as you’re gone. It can’t be helped.”

“Soon, I’m hoping...” He took in a deep breath, though never seemed to sigh it out again, “If we don’t resolve the matter soon, there won’t be any more people left in Zhyun to slaughter. It becomes more uncomfortable the less we’re able to help, though the Kinkou and their students seem sympathetic to our efforts as they become more exposed to the things we’ve been dealing with for years.”

“Years...” The word just came out, like a silent prayer to the Stars and All that another year wouldn’t pass her by alone. In her mind as he was, his expression saddened with hers, the weight of loneliness threatening to crush them both.

“Soon, Huan. I promise.” Chao said it, but the reality of how unsure he was echoed within their private quarters, “I’m trying my hardest.”

“Saving lives...”

“Yes...”

In equal parts remorse and sympathy, they stood there a time in the comfort of each other’s arms. How selfish she felt, that she wanted for more than just this. Most weren’t so lucky to be magically inclined, and fewer to be so gifted from birth. The fact she could hold him at all, even in her mind, should have been enough.

Yet it was never enough. How selfish she was.

“Oh, I must ask.” Words came back to her in time, and she elected to make them the most passing of conversation, “What is this notation on the back of your most recent letter? Should it be something I can understand?” His brow quirked a moment, but in time it morphed to realization, then another rare smile.

“I must have forgotten and written on some parchment I was using. It’s music. A composition I’d been working on, for my cover. Let me go a moment.” She complied, reluctantly, and he spirited away from her with the grace of a half step. The Wuju Master stood apart from her, heels together, and with the flourish of an invisible veil his clothes morphed before her eyes. From the robes of a Master, to the patchwork furs of some traveller. There were colourful patches and adornments in his poncho here or there, with bells and beads to accent, and even the odd accents of face paint to his person. Most interestingly though, was the long necked, stringed instrument that lay slung over his shoulder, like nothing she’d ever seen before.

“Master and I travel as a pair, regrettably.” Chao began, retrieving the instrument just as it came to her mind, the bow of the thing resting in his other hand, “But he was receptive enough to ensure that, when in cover, we travel as a bardic pair. It at least brings some joy to people as the Demon lurks, and it’s given me the chance to pick up this.”  He drew the bow across it idly then, with earthly deep sounds filling the wooden space, “I didn’t think I’d have much interest in stringed instruments, and I’m not sure I do now. But it was all the Zhyunian council could lend to me, so I’ve been composing instead of sleeping, as of late.”

“I’m happy for you!” She proclaimed, palms clasped, “Despite the circumstance, I’m happy you can do something creative with yourself.”

“And my Master only protests in the slightest.” The smile, this time, was a gorgeous thing to see. Any smile when talking of his father was a blessing, “But all this talk of me. I’m not partial to it. I want to hear of what you’ve been up to. Of how our children’s families fare… and how much our son squanders our influence while I’m not there to scold him.”

“These things can wait until my letter arrives in your fingertips.” Huan replied, tapping her nose with a finger and drawing closer again, “Right now I have you in front of me, with all your embellishments, and a piece of music no less.” She waved the parchment before him, notation his way, “You can’t expect me not to ask you to play?”

“I’m not very good, you know.” Chao retorted, though she immediately shook her head,

“Nonsense.”

“I play if only to supplement my story telling. I merely hope that people listen to the story more than the music.”

“Then tell me a story. Please, Chao.” She retreated to her lonely sleeping mat, sitting upon it astutely. His brow quirked in a particular way, but she just sat there waiting.

“Huan…” He offered in time, before he shook his head, “You’ll not rest until I’ve made an embarrassment of myself.”

“It’s just you, and me, and that strange instrument of yours, Poet. There is plenty we could do or say, but I just want to see you play.”

“Is it you who is the poet, or is it I?” They both shared in a laugh, but with no other place to go all the man could do was sit and play.

And what did he have to worry about? This wasn’t real. All of this was an illusion brought forth in her mind by his magic. If he so wished, ever note could have been one sent by the Stars, so divine that she would never hear another one better until he drew the bow back again. But he was honest with her, and for that she enjoyed the music so much more. There were mistakes, and notes where his fingers didn’t quite hit the mark of where the note should lie, but the fact it was him made it special. He told not much of a story in the end, just content in focusing on how his hands manipulated the two strings.

She could have let him go on with the sliding tones and deep, chaotic rhythms of the strange thing that looked only like a bowl with strings attached, but such wasn’t meant to be. Even he, with his eyes closed and rocking motions entranced by the sound, seemed content to continue until an interruption stayed him. Movement caught Huan’s eye, right in her peripherals, of a flourishing doorway curtain.

“Mother, Father…” Groaned a young woman, eyes heavy with the time of night and an infant protesting under her robes, “It’s good to see you, and to hear you, but if you��re going to do things like this, please be considerate for your children that are just as sensitive to your mind games as Mama.”

“Er… Good evening, Feng.” Said the man, stopping dead in his melodies,

“Good evening…” She grumbled, “Please do things like this when mothers with babies don’t have to sleep?”

“I’ll be more particular with my mentalism next time. I’m sorry.”

With that, she grumbled off, baby still babbling unawares at her breast. The parents merely exchanged glances for a time, before both of them summoned a grin.

“What a beautiful family we have.” He commented on a mumble, leaving his instrument on the floor.

“Careful. Such compliments might keep people up at night.” Huan chuckled.

“I hope they do, in part.” He replied, “It’s not often I’m of a mind to give compliments… but perhaps I must keep the recital for the rare moment I have time during the day?”

“Just hold me, before you go, Chao?”

And he did, this time with more weight behind his skin. The man might as well have been there as she held his image as tight as she could. Yet with a kiss to her forehead, her grip slowly became filled with just air. Quietly, he and his sounds, his music, and peculiarities, faded away, and all she had left of him was the parchment penned in his hand. She hugged it, then, harder than she knew she was able. Hoping that, as he returned to his own consciousness, he’d feel her embrace all away across Ionia. Damn the Demons, and damn the politics.

All she wanted was her family to be whole again…

[mychaoticdiary]

January, 4th, 2021

Dear Diary, 

My head aches. It feels like it’s splitting in two, like someone has shot me straight through, the sides of my skull throb like they’ve been displaced and I need to press down as hard as I can to stop my head from splitting open.  My mom peeks her head in and the throbbing seems to go down. The breaks are being fixed, that’s good. We’re both up early, it seems like we can’t sleep in if we tried. We talk, watch some Try Guys - Without A Recipe and laugh, for a moment the world turns.  But the tinging of a metal bowl moving brings us back, my sweet girl stares into her bowl, she’s hungry but her body won’t let her eat, the world continues to turn but now I wish it would stop, I wish it would go back.  My other cat isn’t eating now either and the topic we’ve been avoiding since last night comes up, whatever this is it’s contagious and now my sweet senior cat can’t eat either. She stares at her bowl and meows at it, she howls at her treats, she doesn’t understand why her body won’t let her eat food when she loves it so much.  We try and bring them comfort, pay attention to them, mutter soft sorry’s into their fur. They aren’t in pain but they just don’t understand.  We decided we want to try and get their foot prints, we got my dogs from the vet, it’s on a little gold plaque that leans against his jar of ashes. It was expensive and we don’t have the money so we try it ourselves. I know see why it’s expensive. We plan to try again tomorrow with beet root juice, something that can’t hurt them if they lick it. I hope it works, I want it to work.  My mom leaves to get the car and I sit in our quiet apartment, there’s no noise of playing...I think they’re starting to get tired, I think the lack of food in their system is starting to make them reserved. I wish my cat would howl like she usually does, I hate the noise but now I miss it. Ironic. I hate Alanis Morissette.  Hours seem to drag even when my mom gets back, we talk honestly about the options, about the money we have left. We could run more tests and chance not having the money to put them down if they begin to feel pain or we can try and wait this out and make sure if they do become painful we can stop that. The latter is our choice. I can’t let them be in pain. That’s too much pain for such little bodies.  They are so little. Even though their full grown their bodies are just so little. My sweet girls head fits in the palm of my hand, she lets the weight of her face rest against it as I give her tiny nose skritches and chin pets. She gives me tiny kisses, even her tongue is tiny.  My sweet senior cat is a little less tiny but compared to the world she is small, she puts a small paw to my stomach and I lean back dropping my phone and conversation to let her crawl on top and get comfortable for a bit, as she sits on my chest loud purrs make their way out of her tiny mouth and big eyes happily look at me.  For a moment I forget she’s dying and instead it’s just like any day, we’re sitting and I think when she gets off I’ll have to make sure she doesn’t eat the other cats food on the way out...I’d give anything right now to have her steal the other cats food.  My headache is back. A friend reaches out, she’s unable to send money but wants to get me something, she wants to help. I say no because I want her to start a new life and that requires money she tells me yes and now I have two gifts for my birthday. I’m thankful to be wrong.  She tells me to pick whatever I want, I think of the cat trees I’ve been trying to get my cats for months now but reality looms, they probably won’t live to see it and when it arrives all that will sit on it is my grief, still I try to convince myself of maybe’s, maybe they’ll live to see it, maybe it’ll get here in time, I could always take off the carpet and make it a place to put plants. Everyone softly tells me no, my mom, my friend and even myself softly utter no. I’m getting a milk foamer and a plant light, those are things I’ve wanted for a long time. This is good.  I wish good feelings would last. I wish I could feel thankful longer but sadness eats me up with a ravenous hunger I wish my cats had.  My mom asked me to eat some apples before she left, I haven’t had it in me to eat much, I’ve been living on energy drinks, Mr. Noodles and the little bit of alcohol left over from New Years. Everything that makes me feel full without having to eat. But she asked so I get a few from the fridge and I cut them up, I stare at the knife and my hand and wonder if it would hurt worse to to stab myself than my headache does right now. My headache is pulsing it’s way down my neck, my entire face hurts, my skull buzzes like static in my skin. Suddenly I’m crying I don’t know if its from the pain or my mind has broken but I sob and I’m able to stop. My mind is blank and I can barely ask myself what exactly I’m crying about, I can’t make myself stop so I bring my apples and sit and eat them. I think about the scene in End Game where people laughed for Natasha eating a peanut butter sandwich while crying, they said it’s unrealistic. I agree she should’ve been eating apples, clearly.  I don’t know when my sobbing stops but I’ve finished my apples, they were nice. I grab a tissue and brace myself for the pain of blowing your nose when you have a headache but when I blow there’s no pain, my headache is gone. For a moment I’m relieved and I laugh, it makes sense my bodies mad I haven’t eaten any quality food and then my heart drops...do my cats feel like this? I’m crying again.  Dinner time comes and there are two full bowls staring up at me, mocking me. I empty them none the less and get out a can of fresh food, they deserve fresh food, they wait at my feet excited and I even pop in tiny treats to try and encourage them to eat. They rush over to their dishes to eat and my heart breaks to watch their tails fall because they can’t.  I think I figured out how my senior cat got sick...it’s my fault. My senior cat is a vacuum of a cat so to save on pet food whatever my other cat didn’t eat I’d put into her bowl, I just wanted to save a little money on food because of the expensive vet bills and now I might’ve doomed my cat to death. I wonder if the saliva from my other cat that might’ve gotten in when she tried to eat made my other cat sick.  I don’t want to tell my mom, I don’t want her to feel like it’s her fault, this feels awful, she doesn’t deserve to feel awful.  I find myself sitting next to myself having a conversation with friends. I’m telling my estranged sister about makeup, I’m joking with my good friend but the words don’t feel like they’ve come from my mouth, they’re my words but I haven’t said them, it’s my voice but I’m not making the noises.  My mom called my best friend earlier to tell her to text me, she doesn’t know what’s been going on, we’re going to have a call soon...I don’t know if she’ll really be talking to me.  I feel like I’m playing a waiting game with Death, they look at me and they tell me their coming but they won’t give me the time, they tell me they have a key to my door so no lock will stop them. I know I can’t bargain but I beg, please don’t make it hurt, they’re too little to hurt like that. I think I wanna die. Man, is my therapist gonna have a bag of Hell to deal with when she gets back from vacation.