#I guess you can KIND OF do this with Gale a tiny bit but not really because he’s a freak lmao | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deer-with-a-stick · 1 year ago

Text

Idk if the people complaining about the BG3 endings are D&D players or not but like...this does feel like the ending of a campaign y'know. Sacrifices are made, people are stubborn and time is short so sometimes you have to choose between npcs who could have worked together but won't, and the thing with character arcs.

If you finished them, the companions' arcs are complete emotionally I think (except for Karlach rip, although I hope Larian does make up for it. Late-addition I guess :/). Lae'zel breaks free of her indoctrination, Shadowheart discovers who she is and now has the choice to decide who she can be, Astarion's learned enough things about himself that he's almost a completely different character by the end of it, Gale's gotten over Mystra and over his constant need to be better and stronger (this is all assuming the "Good Endings"), Wyll's broken his pact with Mizora and it makes sense for his character to keep trying to help people, whether that's by becoming the Blade of Avernus or otherwise.

Life goes on after the campaign ends. Characters move on, and for characters like the BG3 ones, where it ended at level 12, it makes sense that they wouldn't settle down in a place to chill and have a fairytale ending. They have the last tiny part of their stories to complete.

I think the reason it funnels a little right at the big moment (where it ends up being "Choose Orpheus or the Emperor," and "Choose who to become the illithid or let Gale explode") is because for these big last boss fights, there tends to have to be a sacrifice. I know there might be some bugs or whatnot, or people wanted more knowledge about what was going to happen to everyone else, but this is still a roleplaying game? Should I remind you that in BG3, you are, in fact, roleplaying as Tav/Origin Character?

That's the reason why you learn more about what a companion does after defeating the Netherbrain if you play as them and why if you play as Tav, you don't know what comes next.

For the few D&D campaigns I've played, at the end of it, it's always just been the players deciding individually what happens to the characters. Sometimes, they've died. Sometimes, they've continued adventuring and end up making appearances in the next campaigns, and sometimes they just had their fairytale ending. (From what I've seen the ending is quite a bit bugged and once Larian fixes that it'll probably please a bunch of people. My thoughts are incredibly disjointed right now but hjkrhlakjsdfh)

Those open-ended endings are good, I think. Lae'zel's always been a fighter, regardless of whether it was because of Vlaakith or not. She's always been steadfast in her beliefs and will stop at nearly nothing to make sure she accomplishes what she's set her mind to. She's got a code of honor, even if that code might skew towards "evil," so it makes complete sense that she would want to return to the Astral Plane to stop Vlaakith. What becomes of her and her mission, we don't know, because Tav, in that moment, is not in the Astral Plane with Lae'zel.

Shadowheart's arc was about reclaiming herself, so to speak. And that's hard when you've been brainwashed by a goddess for the majority of your life. Ironically, the whole theme of "Loss" is always prevalent, whether it's because she serves Shar or because she's let her parents go. Unlike Lae'zel, her purpose now is something vague: live your life. She doesn't know what exactly to do, so she heads off by herself. She doesn't know where she's going exactly, and so therefore Tav wouldn't either.

Astarion's ending pissed people off, and I do kind of wish that if you kept Gale's True Resurrection scroll, you could cure him, but it makes sense I suppose. If you kept him from becoming Vampire Ascendent, it signifies that he's finally free of Cazador and that he's finally free of his near all-consuming quest for power. The ability to walk in the sun is a power, and when he burns after the tadpoles die, it's because he's given up that power earlier, but is a better person because of that. I believe that if you do an Astarion Origin ending, it turns out that he heads to the Underdark to lead the vampire spawn because he's taking responsibility. He's becoming a leader where Cazador had been a tyrant

For Gale, his entire storyline is just him walking on a knife's edge. He's somewhere between desperately trying to live and trying to find some convenient time to die, between loving Mystra and hating her, between wanting more power and being content with what he has. The end (find the crown, give it to mystra) is a fitting ending I think. I honestly don't think Mystra's a very good goddess to hold the attention of, but he realizes that a) he's got a little obsessive and b) he doesn't need more power and that he'll be content just to be Gale Dekarios. So it makes sense for him to quite literally just settle down somewhere. He doesn't have the urge to make himself stronger and better constantly, and he won't end up killing all of Waterdeep. He's free to live at home, do wizard things, and have Tara yell at him for poor life choices.

And Wyll's Blade of Avernus ending makes sense (even if he didn't sell his soul to Mizora forever: I think you can get this ending if you save his father anyway). He's got his hero complex. His daddy issues aren't so much a problem and the pact is gone (you can break the pact and then hurry to the prison I believe), but he's going to keep fighting, keep being a hero. If Karlach's dying, he's definitely the kind of person to jump at the chance to help her, even if that means going to Avernus. Besides, he can keep killing demons and devils there.

I will agree that its a bit annoying (because again, I definitely think that Act 1 is the most thought-through and polished piece, and there are bugs abound in Act 2 and 3) but seeing Larian's response so far (we've got Patch 1 and 2 confirmed already, with the possibility of a DLC not off the table), people who were disappointed should still have hope.

Just be warned that the perfect fairy tale ending probably isn't possible, but your companions will still be happy. This isn't new: take LOTR for example. Faramir's father and brother are still dead, but at the end of everything, he'll still be happy. He'll have some more action when he cleans out Minas Ithil, but in the end, despite everything he's lost, he'll be happy. Frodo is heavily scarred by his experience, and perhaps it's not the best ending per say, by the end of the day, people and life move on, and we know that Frodo will be happy in Valinor.

(This is unfiltered rambling I'll probably edit or delete this later)

(This is also probably because I love the bittersweet endings, although I understand that most people probably hate them)

255 notes · View notes

edbloves · 7 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/edbloves/754938770487476224/consumed-by-thoughts-of-post-war-bucky-and-buck

Is there any chance we can have more of this 🥹🥹

Hi Anon!!

You absolutely can, let's see if I can cook something up for you, darling! These have been the head cannons bouncing around in my head the last few days so here you go:

After doing a little bit of math, I've decided that John's daughter would be around three (for pregnancy, stalag and post-war timing reasons)

John honestly doesn't remember her mother, and feels horribly guilty for it. He has vague memories of a drunken night in the Bristish bars with a Red Cross girl where both of them were mutually using the other to try to forget the war, but he knows nothing about her and barely remembers what she looks like. And to be honest, there were numerous instances of those, with numerous women

John, being the more charismatic of the two, relates better to her, though he is petrified that he's going to mess up and screw up her life (i.e. he's very aware that he drinks too much and smokes too much)

Gale is more nervous around her, never grew up with siblings and never knew anyone with kids her age and is terrified he's going to disappoint her or unknowingly start acting like his father. But once she starts to get more comfortable with them, he realizes that she's just a mini John and he falls even more in love with her

She LOVES Meatball (whom Demarco gave to Buck because Florida is not the place for a husky) and Meatball loves her back, they spend evenings with Meatball curled around her small frame and her tiny hands scrunched in his fur. Honestly, he's kind of like a therapy dog/emotional support animal for her after her mother's death and transition into John and Gale's life

All three of them get nightmares, John and Gale's about the war and her's about her mother dying, and later, about Buck and Bucky dying so it isn't uncommon for them to be up in the middle of the night all together

On that note, Gale keeps the fridge stocked with each other their favourite ice cream flavours (vanilla for him, chocolate for her and Bucky) and on warm nights where the nightmares wake them up, they'll all pile into the truck in their pyjamas and head out where there are views of the whole city and they'll curl up in the bed of the truck wrapped up and snuggled in blankets with Buck pointing out constellations and Bucky explaining that the sky is where he and Buck used fly

When she calls Bucky Daddy for the first time, he's calm about it with her but he completely loses it afterwards to Gale, emotionally overwhelmed and touched by her trust and love

On her second night with them, Gale is awake in the middle of the night thinking and spiralling and trying make mental tallies of all the things he has to do and learn and help her with and holy shit he's so unprepared and what are they going to do with a child, let alone a girl?? So he climbs out of bed and unthinking of the late hour, phones Marge and asks her how she does her hair. And lovely Marge is like WTF Gale? So Gale explains, says Bucky has a kid so I guess I have a kid now, too.

She has them instantaneously wrapped around her finger and they literally struggle so hard to say no to her ("You tell her she can't do that, John." "Why me? You tell her!" "I don't want her to be upset with me!" "You think I do?!") Good cop, bad cop is literally impossible to do with them, and Gale can't stomach it anyways, not with how his father was

They overload her with toys and clothes and sweets, particularly Gale, trying to come out from underneath the shadow of his own father and frets constantly that she doesn't know they love her

John is the one typically taking her out to do lots of activities, he signs her up for ballet and teaches her baseball as she grows up, puts her on the horses and on a bike probably too-early but Gale can't find it in himself to complain when John's smile is plastered all over her little face

Gale takes her with him EVERYWHERE, and not in the way his Dad took him (like it was a forced thing, like he was a nuisance he had to look after) but because Gale literally just wants to spend time with her all the time. He enjoys talking to her and getting her books to read as she learns her ABCs and hearing her three-year-old (sometimes strange) opinions on things, and having her accompany him to the grocery store and the post-office

Marge begs to babysit and she has to be damn convincing to get them to give her their daughter for a night

That's all I got for now! Hope you enjoy :) We'll see if I come up with more, then I might make it into a multi chapter fic if enough people are interested!

#masters of the air #buck x bucky #clegan #mota fanfic #mota #mota headcanons #brain rot #hope you enjoy this little trio as much as I do :)

31 notes · View notes

rottenbrainstuff · 1 year ago

Text

BG3 playthrough - the circus and other notes

A quick break from the drama to do something fun! (Spoilers below)

Oh I forgot to talk about the big ol durge act 3 Bhaalspawn reveal there. First of all I wish the scene was a bit….. I dunno… bigger, somehow. I’m reminded a little of the unsatisfying conversation with Shadowheart after she refuses to kill the Nightsong, where she just MENTIONS oh wow so crazy thing just happened, I just got transported to Shar’s presence and it felt like I was dying a hundred deaths and Shar told me I’m worthless and I’m kicked out now (whereas if you do kill the Nightsong, you actually get to see her talking to Shar) Like sure we do get the vision of a fight with Orin, but then it mentions all these memories of leading the Bhaal cult… please! A little dramatic cutscene? A little teensy tiny glimpse of what my tav used to look like? Just a hint? A dark shot from the back? Something super zoomed in? Anything? Or it doesn’t even have to be complicated and animated with a ton of assets actually SHOWING the cult activities, couldn’t we just have like I dunno. The edges of the screen start to bleed red and there’s a wooshing effect or something? Like even something simple? I’m thinking of like the simple animation that happens when you step into the Shar pool and get transported?

Basically anything at all that’s just a TOUCH more dramatic than just standing there deep in thought while the narrator explains that you remember all the bad stuff? Meh.

My poor tav though. Resisting durge has been a hell of a ride. Wow. He’s been trying his hardest this whole time not be ruled by these horrible voices in his head, and to find out what happened to him, and it just gets worse and worse and worse. At least the revelation ends on a slightly hopeful note, with a way forward to attempt to make some kind of amends for everything.

After this, you can choose to tell your companions about it, if you want. The reactions are all really interesting.

Halsin actually was a lot less supportive than I thought he’d be - disappointed me a little, tbh.

Gale is wary, and fair enough, I guess, but it still stung a bit. Gale has always been the most wary companion with all the dark urge stuff, but I mean it’s not like I don’t deserve it.

Lae’zel is quite practical - yes that makes sense, you are very good at killing and also annoying, lmao. When it comes time to choose to defy your god, choose wisely, like I did.

Shadowheart seems like she’s trying to think of something supportive to say, but it comes out a bit wrong - wow it sucks to be you! I think I’ve heard not EVERY single bhaalspawn was horrible though?

Wyll and Karlach are the absolute sweetest, obviously. Karlach is so sad for us that we learned this information and is behind us all the way. Wyll is similarly sad for us, and tells us about a bhaalspawn who actually went on to be an important hero. What a couple of absolute solid friends right there.

And then there’s Astarion. He has a lot of dialogue here. I suppose this is what people are complaining about when they say Astarion has so much more dark urge content written for him than the other companions. I thought at first the reason he has so much to say is that I was romancing him, and I’m still not 100% sure but it sounds like this is just the normal dialogue he has with everyone no matter what. With Astarion, you don’t have the option to decide to bring it up or not, he will notice right away that something is wrong and comment on it. (you can choose to not talk about it though) The other companions only have a few lines for you, but Astarion actually has branching dialogue choices. If you talk about your father’s commands, it leads to some other dialogue and a HILARIOUS comment about “worshiping your father’s emissions” lmaoooo Astarion, always the best reactoins. There’s a few dialogue options that lead him to joke (....not a joke?...) about missing the first bhaalspawn epidemic, and how he’s glad to be around to watch the murder this time.

But if you tell him you’re scared, he gives you this surprisingly sincere and emotional reaction about how he knows what it’s like to be a slave to things you can’t control, and how he wouldn’t go back to that life for anything you could possibly pay him, and neither should you. It was quite touching. Man Astarion. Thanks for that. No thanks to you though, Halsin.

And then I had an Emperor cutscene! I wasn’t expecting this! None of the guides I checked had mentioned this one so it was a surprise. The Emperor is feeling wistful after hearing Belynne Stelmane is dead. (why is she called a duke though? Why not duchess? Faerun still has queens?) Man. Man, I dunno. I thought I had this guy all figured out from everything I had read, but this is all playing out just a liiiiitle bit different than what I expected, and now I don’t know what to think. This fucker, I actually do feel a little sorry for him, I do wonder if I can trust him. I’m falling right into the mindflayer’s goddamned trap. Fuck.

Currently I have just finished up at the circus. Man it’s is hilarious, I adore all the colourful NPCs, this is the most “actual tabletop dnd game” part of the game I’ve run into yet: The DM tells you that you notice that the djinni is cheating at the wheel game. You announce you want to try and distract the djinni by farting really loud. You roll a nat 20. The DM sighs and sends you to dinosaur land. I love it!

Fun fact: bards having the fart option is maybe not really as randomly stupid as it sounds. Medieval jesters often had on-command-flatulence as one of the talents in their performing skill set, lmao.

I’m still undecided on who I should commission a statue of. I’m leaning towards forcing everyone in camp to stare at a sexy statue of my boyfriend every day. I wonder what the original Dribbles was like. He seems so incredibly well-regarded by the crowd, I have to assume his act was actually interesting!

I spent 20 minutes just trying to steal the cheese book from the djinni tent. Doesn’t matter if there’s no one looking, as soon as I take the book, three flaming fist come running up out of nowhere. The unnoticed theft of a single insignificant book is of vital importance, I guess. By that point it wasn’t even any actual desire for the specific book, it was just the principle of it, I wanted to have this book because they didn’t want me to have it. We ended up with my party explaining to the three guards that we didn’t see anything, while Astarion was off hiding in the bushes by Zethino, giggling like an idiot the whole time, I assume. We got the book in the end and the only ones angry are probably the refugees on the road having to stand there and wait because the guards they were trying to talk to left to go take care of a single missing book.

I have found 5 NPCs so far that have the possibility to be Orin. (once you find her twice, she stops transforming and you won’t continue to find her, but because I reload old saves to investigate things so much, I run into Orin in other situations that I didn’t do in my main game… it is SUPER SURPRISING when an NPC suddenly starts having a different conversation than I’m used to) I wonder how many other NPCs she’s programmed for?

I really liked that steel watch robot thing at the gate. I loved how I was told I had nothing to fear if I had done nothing wrong, I loved how it decided to arrest me because it had a database of info obtained by scrying eyes that I had attacked the Absolute. That’s always the argument people use in favour of increased police surveillance - well if you have nothing to hide, it shouldn’t matter, right? Haha but that all depends on who the folks in charge decide who the enemy is, doesn’t it?

Next up - doing the lazy elephant detective’s job for them, because that’s what I do in this game, apparently. (I’m just being silly, this quest legit sounds fun)

#bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #the dark urge #astarion #bg3 spoilers #bg3 playthrough

3 notes · View notes

shewhowas39 · 9 months ago

Text

tiny sneak peek of chapter 5 - featuring Astarion snark

i'm hoping to post chapter 5 of Juniper & Starlight tomorrow, but I wanted to share this bit as a sneak peek. he's SUCH a itch and i love him.

***

He’s still touseling his freshly washed curls when he runs into the rest of his companions at the top of the path that leads down to where the druids continue their chanting. He’s so pleased about being lean and smelling nice that he only feels a slight urge to complain about how annoying and repetitive the sound is.

“...and then she just took off,” Shadowheart is saying when he approaches. “Said something about errands, but I haven’t seen her since.”

Wyll frowns. “I do hope she’s all right.”

Considering June is the only one missing from the gathering, Astarion can make an educated guess as to whom this conversation is about. “I take it our little mad mage is missing?” he asks.

Gale looks startled. “Halaster is missing? Last I heard he was still wreaking havoc on adventurers down beneath the Yawning Portal in Waterdeep.”

Astarion just stares at him for a moment. “I was referring to June.”

“Oh.” Gale frowns. “Probably shouldn’t call her ‘mad.’ It’s not very kind.”

“Nor ‘little,’ considerirng she’s the same heights s you and Gale,” Shadowheart adds.

Astarion rolls his eyes. “Very well then. I take it our tall perfectly-sane mage is missing?”

#juniper & starlight #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #baldur's gate 3 #forgotten realms #astarion ancunin

1 note · View note

katnissmellarkkk · 3 years ago

Text

Elllow! Today’s bookcomb consists of Peeta being protective of Katniss. Could have been much more implied moments but here’s some explicit ones 🤗

But it’s too late to run. I pull a slimy arrow from the sheath and try to position it on the bowstring but instead of one string I see three and the stench from the stings is so repulsive I can’t do it. I can’t do it. I can’t do it.

I’m helpless as the first hunter crashes through the trees, spear lifted, poised to throw. The shock on Peeta’s face makes no sense to me. I wait for the blow. Instead his arm drops to his side.

“What are you still doing here?” he hisses at me. I stare uncomprehendingly as a trickle of water drips off a sting under his ear. His whole body starts sparkling as if he’s been dipped in dew. “Are you mad?” He’s prodding me with the shaft of the spear now. “Get up! Get up!” I rise, but he’s still pushing at me. What? What is going on? He shoves me away from him hard. “Run!” he screams. “Run!”

I trip and fall into a small pit lined with tiny orange bubbles that hum like the tracker jacker nest. Tucking my knees up to my chin, I wait for death.

Sick and disoriented, I’m able to form only one thought: Peeta Mellark just saved my life.

I jump as Peeta grips my shoulder from behind. “No,” he says. “You’re not risking your life for me.”

“Who said I was?” I say.

“So, you’re not going?” he asks.

“Of course, I’m not going. Give me some credit.”

Anger flushes my face. “All right, I am going, and you can’t stop me!”

“I can follow you. At least partway. I may not make it to the Cornucopia, but if I’m yelling your name, I bet someone can find me. And then I’ll be dead for sure,” he says.

“You won’t get a hundred yards from here on that leg,” I say.

“Then I’ll drag myself,” says Peeta. “You go and I’m going, too.”

“We’re going!” says Peeta, shoving the Peacekeeper who’s pressing on me. “We get it, all right? Come on, Katniss.” His arm encircles me and guides me back into the Justice Building.

Peeta steps up on a crate against the wall of the sweetshop and offers me a hand while he scans the square. I’m halfway up when he suddenly blocks my way. “Get down. Get out of here!” He’s whispering, but his voice is harsh with insistence.

“What?” I say, trying to force my way back up.

“Go home, Katniss! I’ll be there in a minute, I swear!” he says.

“He was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?” says the man.

“He’s her cousin.” Peeta’s got my other arm now, but gently. “And she’s my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.”

When we’re outside, I turn to Peeta. “You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob.”

“I’ll go with you,” he says.

“No. I’ve dragged you into enough trouble,” I tell him.

“And avoiding a stroll by the Hob . . . that’s going to fix things for me?” He smiles and takes my hand. Together we wind through the streets of the Seam until we reach the burning building.

“Peeta’s argument is that since I chose you, I now owe him. Anything he wants. And what he wants is the chance to go in again to protect you,” says Haymitch.

I knew it. In this way, Peeta’s not hard to predict. While I was wallowing around on the floor of that cellar, thinking only of myself, he was here, thinking only of me. Shame isn’t a strong enough word for what I feel.

“You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him, you know,” Haymitch says.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say brusquely. “No question, he’s the superior one in this trio. So, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” Haymitch sighs. “Go back in with you maybe, if I can. If my name’s drawn at the reaping, it won’t matter. He’ll just volunteer to take my place.”

The reaping takes only a minute. Effie, shining in a wig of metallic gold, lacks her usual verve. She has to claw around the girls’ reaping ball for quite a while to snag the one piece of paper that everyone already knows has my name on it. Then she catches Haymitch’s name. He barely has time to shoot me an unhappy look before Peeta has volunteered to take his place.

“And I’m not saying I’m not going to try. To get you home, I mean. But if I’m perfectly honest about it. . .”

“If you’re perfectly honest about it, you think President Snow has probably given them direct orders to make sure we die in the arena anyway,” I say.

“It’s crossed my mind,” says Peeta.

I check over my weapons, which I know are in perfect condition, because it makes me seem more in control. “I’ll take the lead,” I announce.

Peeta starts to object but Finnick cuts him off. “No, let her do it.”

No one’s thrilled with the idea of me going off alone, but the threat of dehydration hangs over us.

“Don’t worry, I won’t go far,” I promise Peeta.

“I’ll go, too,” he says.

“No, I’m going to do some hunting if I can,” I tell him. I don’t add, “And you can’t come because you’re too loud.” But it’s implied. He would both scare off prey and endanger me with his heavy tread. “I won’t be long.”

Nothing. I find nothing. Not so much as a dewdrop. Eventually, because I know Peeta will be worried about me, I head back to the camp, hotter and more frustrated than ever.

I know it’s stopped when I feel Peeta’s hands on me, feel myself lifted from the ground and out of the jungle. But I stay eyes squeezed shut, hands over my ears, muscles too rigid to release. Peeta holds me on his lap, speaking soothing words, rocking me gently.

While Johanna collects water and my arrows, Beetee fiddles with his wire, and Finnick takes to the water. I need to clean up, too, but I stay in Peeta’s arms, still too shaken to move.

This is when Beetee reveals the rest of the plan. Since we move most swiftly through the trees, he wants Johanna and me to take the coil down through the jungle, unwinding the wire as we go. We are to lay it across the twelve o’clock beach and drop the metal spool, with whatever is left, deep into the water, making sure it sinks. Then run for the jungle. If we go now, right now, we should make it to safety.

“I want to go with them as a guard,” Peeta says immediately. After the moment with the pearl, I know he’s less willing than ever to let me out of his sight.

I’m so light-headed I’ll black out in a matter of minutes. I’ve got to get away from this tree and —

“Katniss!” I hear his voice though he’s a far distance away. But what is he doing? Peeta must have figured out that everyone is hunting us by now. “Katniss!”

Caesar leans in to him a little. “I think it was clear to all of us what your plan was. To sacrifice yourself in the arena so that Katniss Everdeen and your child could survive.”

“That was it. Clear and simple.” Peeta’s fingers trace the upholstered pattern on the arm of the chair.

A hush has fallen over the room, and I can feel it spreading across Panem. A nation leaning in toward its screens. Because no one has ever talked about what it’s really like in the arena before.

Peeta goes on. “So you hold on to your wish. And that last night, yes, my wish was to save Katniss.”

“When that wire was cut, everything just went insane. I can only remember bits and pieces. Trying to find her. Watching Brutus kill Chaff. Killing Brutus myself. I know she was calling my name. Then the lightning bolt hit the tree, and the force field around the arena . . . blew out.”

“Katniss blew it out, Peeta,” says Caesar. “You’ve seen the footage.”

“She didn’t know what she was doing. None of us could follow Beetee’s plan. You can see her trying to figure out what to do with that wire,” Peeta snaps back.

Peeta’s on his feet, leaning in to Caesar’s face, hands locked on the arms of his interviewer’s chair. “Really? And was it part of her plan for Johanna to nearly kill her? For that electric shock to paralyze her? To trigger the bombing?” He’s yelling now. “She didn’t know, Caesar! Neither of us knew anything except that we were trying to keep each other alive!”

Caesar places his hand on Peeta’s chest in a gesture that’s both self-protective and conciliatory. “Okay, Peeta, I believe you.”

Gale’s expression darkens. “Peeta might have done a lot of damage tonight. Most of the rebels will dismiss what he said immediately, of course. But there are districts where the resistance is shakier. The cease-fire’s clearly President Snow’s idea. But it seems so reasonable coming out of Peeta’s mouth.”

I’m afraid of Gale’s answer, but I ask anyway. “Why do you think he said it?”

“He might have been tortured. Or persuaded. My guess is he made some kind of deal to protect you. He’d put forth the idea of the cease-fire if Snow let him present you as a confused pregnant girl who had no idea what was going on when she was taken prisoner by the rebels. This way, if the districts lose, there’s still a chance of leniency for you. If you play it right.” I must still look perplexed because Gale delivers the next line very slowly. “Katniss . . . he’s still trying to keep you alive.”

To keep me alive? And then I understand. The Games are still on. We have left the arena, but since Peeta and I weren’t killed, his last wish to preserve my life still stands. His idea is to have me lie low, remain safe and imprisoned, while the war plays out. Then neither side will really have cause to kill me. And Peeta? If the rebels win, it will be disastrous for him. If the Capitol wins, who knows? Maybe we’ll both be allowed to live — if I play it right — to watch the Games go on. . . .

Caesar and Peeta have a few empty exchanges before Caesar asks him about rumors that I’m taping propos for the districts.

“They’re using her, obviously,” says Peeta. “To whip up the rebels. I doubt she even really knows what’s going on in the war. What’s at stake.”

He asks Peeta if, given tonight’s demonstration, he has any parting thoughts for Katniss Everdeen.

At the mention of my name, Peeta’s face contorts in effort. “Katniss . . . how do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you . . . in Thirteen . . .” He inhales sharply, as if fighting for air; his eyes look insane. “Dead by morning!”

“Katniss!” He whips his head toward me but doesn’t seem to notice my bow, the waiting arrow. “Katniss! Get out of here!”

I hesitate. His voice is alarmed, but not insane. “Why? What’s making that sound?”

“I don’t know. Only that it has to kill you,” says Peeta. “Run! Get out! Go!”

#everlark #thg #hunger games #thgagain #Peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #bookcomb ♥️🔎

112 notes · View notes

shembl · 2 years ago

Text

Moby Dick FNP Chapter 3 - In the Inn

Hello again, it’s time for what turned out to be a really long chapter compared to the last few eh? this took us two or three sittings on stream to get through on stream a year or so ago. Anyway, for those new; this is where My friend Andy (A proper writer!) and I (A fool) read through Moby Dick very slowly and attempt to make it a bit easier to read while probably massively misinterpreting things. This Chapter’s TL;DR is

-Ishmael stares at a painting and gets really annoyed about it -Everything around the painting is a nightmare hellbutcher dungeon kind of aesthetic -The guy who runs the place is a manic prankster called Peter Coffin -The best character in the book turns up, he’s called Bulkington and everyone loves him. He is also probably a ghost and I think he dies offscreen later on? -Ishmael’s room gets double-booked and he spends about 15 minutes hiding in the bed staring at his bedmate who doesn’t know he’s there, and then acts like it was his bedmate who was the problem. -Ishmael’s bedmate is Queequeg, who is the best actual character in the book even if there’s some weird racists shit surrounding him.

Anyway, enjoy or don’t, your call.

Chapter 3: In the Inn

So, you walk into this inn, right, and it looks like shit, like an old fucked up boat they dragged onto land and forced into being a house. And at the other end of it there’s this painting. No matter which way you look at it, it’s shit, incomprehensible, nightmarish, like something from the Age of Hags, a gross splat of bad imagery in a frame. You look at it from every angle, stand all over the place, ask the people nearby, they don’t know what’s up either, but maybe, you more you look at it and calm down a bit and you think ‘nah it’s not that bad actually’ and then your senses come back and you’re like ‘no it is bad.’

That’s my review of the painting.

It was shit, but there’s a lot of things you can say about shit. To me it looks like a lot of things, heaths, elemental conflicts, midnight gales, some awful time-smashing cataclysm, seas; which you know I’m a big fan of, but mostly I think it looked like a massive fish.

Maybe it’s just that I had fish on my mind, but my mind was telling me there was a fish on that painting.

That’s how art is sometimes I guess.

Then it clicked though, it was actually a ship all fucked up and crashed with a whale doing a sweet jump over it, but sweet turned to sour for this aquatic lad, as he’s only gone and speared himself on all of three of the ship’s masts.

Total lunacy.

I wouldn’t paint it.

What kind of mad bastard would hang a painting like that?

Probably the same kind of mad bastard who would hang up a load of monster-mode clubs and other weapons. You’ve got your clubs with teeth in them, you’ve got clubs with hair in them, you’ve got spears and harpoons and lances and every other form of pointed stick that’s ever been used to cause harm.

There was even a sickle which had a shape to it which I can only describe as being like a long-armed lawn mower. Make of that what you will, for I dare not to dwell on it.

There was also this absolutely legendary harpoon that was all jacked up by the ravages of time, sea and whale, so that it now looked more like a corkscrew. People said it had once been used by a really cool and handsome whale slayer, he chucked it so hard at a whale's arse that even though the whale got away it came out through the whale's head years later.

Moving further in, you begin to figure out what this place is about. It’s a theme bar, and the theme is death. Death and whales.

It’s all covered in dusty, cracked and fucked up bottles and other glasswares, and at one end there’s a massive whale jaw so big you could use it as the foundation for a 6-person tent if you were a serial killer.

But this was no tent, not right now any way, this was a nest for a tiny man, dangerous eyes in his face, and a look about him that suggested he wanted to either get you drunk or kill you.

I could tell from looking at him, this was the kind of barkeeper who was a prick about measures. Always ripping you off and under serving like a villain.

I walked past some sailors who were having a nice time looking at some fish bones and went on up to the landlord and asked about a room. He looked me up and down, and said

“We ain’t got no rooms, but I reckon you’re a whale guy, so go share a bed with another whale guy. It’s just what whale guys do. You ARE a whale guy, ain’t ye?”

I said back to him, “It’s not so much about whether he’s a whale guy or not, I’ll share a bed with anyone, well, not just anyone, it really depends on the person, rather than their occupation, you know? Besides, it’s cold outside.”

“I thought so. All right; take a seat. Supper?—you want supper? Supper’ll be ready directly.”

I took a seat on one of those picnic table type tables and took a look around, one guy sat near me was fumbling around between his legs, his eyes were crossed and his tongue was poking out... I looked away after a while.

We went in for dinner, into the coldest room you could imagine, colder than Iceland I would say.

“A fire would be a good idea here.” I said.

“A fire’s too expensive.” said the landlord.

So we sat, shivered, buttoned up our monkey coats, which were just a name for a type of coat, and not actually made out of monkeys, and burnt our lips with hot tea, which we held with half-frozen fingers, which really is pretty confusing if you think about it. What temperature am I supposed to be right now, you know?

The food was nice though, you’ve not just got meat, and not just potatoes, you’ve got both! And not just both! Dumplings as well! Good heavens! dumplings for supper!

One guy was going absolutely bananas over these dumplings (not me)

The landlord said “Me lad, you keep crammin’ down dumplings in such a manner, ye’re likely to have dumpling related nightmares!”

“Landord,” I whispered. “That’s not the guy I’m sharing a bed with is it?”

I was concerned that I might be sharing a bed with someone having nightmares in such a place with so many instruments of cruelty up on the walls as this.

The landlord laughed darkly, in that way people do when they are holding back some info in a way that is very funny from a certain perspective. “Oooooooh no me lad, your bunk-chum don’t bother with no dumplings, he only eats meat.” He laughed again. “Rare meat, the rarest of meats, ye might say.”

“Holy shit.” I said, not picking up on the giggles or anything. “Where is he then?”

“Oh he’ll be here soon.” The innkeeper smirked, laughed, waggled his eyebrows and then refused to make eye contact.

Something in my bones told me that there was something up with this other whale guy, and that if we were going to share a bed, I’d make sure to inspect his naked body before I got in with him. Safety first and all that.

Anyway, food was over and we trickled back to the bar. I didn’t have anything to do so I just kind of sat around looking at people.

All of a sudden there was a massive loud noise, sounded like a riot. Barely had the noise reached my ears when the landlord leapt up onto the table. “That’s the Grampus’s crew. I seed her reported in the offing this morning; a three years’ voyage, and a full ship. Hurrah, boys; now we’ll have the latest news from the Feegees.”

He must have really liked news from the Feegees.

They all came in, they were a rowdy bunch, especially for a bunch of sailors who looked like shit. Frozen beards and bad patch jobs on all their clothes. They swarmed the bar and started complaining about headaches to the innkeeper, who gave them booze.

Once they were drunk, they got more noisy, so the headache cure (booze) must have worked.

Rowdy as they were, there was one among them who was not so rowdy. He was huge, jacked, handsome, chest broader than a dam and he had nice twinkly eyes that seemed sad, and nice twinkly teeth that would look nice in a smile if only he weren’t so clearly struggling with some inner demons. He tried to hide to hide it though so he didn’t throw off the vibe his pals were enjoying. After a while he left and that’s when I first heard his name. “BULKINGTON!” shouted all of the sailors as they scuttled about the place as one unit, like a man-berg, looking for him. “BULKINGTOOOOON!” It was a great name for such a big lad. I hoped I was sharing a bed with Ol’ bulky. My future shipmate, if not in an actual ship, then perhaps in a little ship called a bed.

Anyway, everyone had gone. It was about 9pm and I had a good plan in my head, a plan that was in my head before all these sailors turned up actually.

Kinda weird that the innkeeper wants me to share a bed with a guy, especially the part about sailors sharing beds, I’ve been on boats and let me tell you, you don’t share a hammock, how can you? They’re all droopy. No, you get your own bed with your own blanket and your own skin to keep all your wet bits in.

Nobody likes to share a bed, it’s a private time. As the innkeeper continued to drill holes in the back of my head with his eyes, I began to have suspicions.

The more I thought about it, the worse this deal was looking, and besides, I was getting tired and wanted to sleep. But if I go to bed in another guy’s bed, which would probably have shitty linens on it because whale guys are gross, then what if I’m asleep and he comes back and he’s like “Who’s this guy in my bed?” that’d be pretty weird for him, but what if he gets the wrong idea and he’s drunk or a serial killer or something and then he just gets naked and gets into bed with me, who knows what he’d do. I didn’t like it.

“Landlord! I’ve changed my mind about that harpooneer.—I shan’t sleep with him. I’ll try the bench here.”

I slapped the bench and winced at all the new splinters that had entered my hand.

The innkeeper looked sad for a moment before some manic energy overtook his face “Just as you please; I’m sorry I can’t spare ye a tablecloth for a mattress, and it’s a very uncomfortable bench!”

He hopped over the bar, lathe in hand.

“But wait! Me little Skrimshander, I’ve a lathe, and I’ll have ye snug enough shortly.”

He scuttled over and wiped down the bench with his handkerchief, and then went to town on the bench with his lathe. I thought about moving out of the way, but was paralysed by the ferocity in the man’s approach. He wasn’t looking down at his work, his eyes were fixed on mine and he was grinning like an ape. Over and over the lathe bounced off some indestructible knot in the wood. He was sweating, his arms were shaking and after a while, the strength left his wrists so that he was just sort of daubing away at the wood. His breathing was ragged.

“For god’s sake man!” I plead over and over again. “Stop! It was fine enough before, you don’t need to do this!” and yet still, huffing and puffing he scraped away at his own furniture.

After some time had passed, and I can’t tell you how much time, because I didn’t have a clock, he stopped, winked at me, and scooped up all the shavings, which took a few minutes.

Then he winked again scuttled over to the fire, and threw in all the shavings, a thrifty approach to the fuel crisis he had previously complained about.

Meanwhile, I was covered in sawdust. I was itchy.

I had a test-lay on the bench and it was too short for me, being big and tall, but I also had a big brain, so I figured I could fix that by popping a chair at the end to rest my legs on. The bigger problem was that the bench was a foot too narrow for my big muscly back, being what benches are, and the innkeeper had gone so mental with the lathe that my bed-bench was four inches lower than the other benches, and I didn’t want to ask the guy to lathe this one up because he would probably die, looking at him.

Also it was drafty.

This fucking harpoon guy! What a fucking disaster he was causing for me, the prick. I thought about heading up to his room, stealing his bed and locking the door, force him to knock me awake, that sort of thing, but then what if that pissed him off? He’d probably just punch me. I reconsidered.

I had another look around at this shitty sleeping arrangement I had made for myself and thought, maybe this harpooner isn’t so bad. Maybe sharing a bed with him could be the start of a beautiful friendship. Optimistic I know, but that’s just the kind of guy I am.

Other sailors came in, laughing, being friends and all that, going up to share beds and have a good time, but my harpoon guy, he was nowhere to be seen, and it was already midnight. I’d been waiting for three hours since the last time I looked at the clock. Who knows how long the innkeeper had spent of this time staring me in the face and planing the bench beneath me.

“Landlord!” I said, “what sort of a chap is this guy? Is he always back this late?” I was sleepy, but also annoyed.

“Uhuuhuuhuuhuu” chuckled the innkeeper, darkly, as if he had just heard some mean joke about me. “generally he’s an early bird—airley to bed and airley to rise—yes, he’s the bird what catches all the worms. But to-night he went out a peddling, you see, and I don’t see what on airth keeps him so late, unless, may be, he can’t sell his head.”

I had no idea why he said the word ‘early’ like that, but this guy clearly had more pressing problems, and so did I.

“What do you mean ‘Can’t sell his head?” I made air-quotes to show that this was an insane thing to say to a guy. I was fucking pissed, livid. “Are you trying to tell me that this guy is out there on a saturday night, or now technically a sunday morning since it’s so fucking late, trying to sell his head around town”

“That’s precisely it,” said the innkeeper, “and I told him he couldn’t sell it here, the market’s overstocked.” He waggled his eyebrows.

I was getting really, really angry about all of this, I needed to get on a boat. “With what?” I shouted.

The innkeeper grabbed his own head by the ears. “With heads to be sure; ain’t there too many heads in the world?”

“Stop fucking about, Innkeeper. What are you going on about?” I’d calmed down a little bit. “Calm down with this weird chat, I’m not green.” Green is what you call people in Sailor language when they’re a bit new or daft.

“May be not,” He took out a stick, and in an instant, whittled it into a toothpick with his lathe. “but I rayther guess you’ll be done brown if that ‘ere harpooneer hears you a’slanderin’ his head.”

I lost my shit. “I’ll break his fucking head then if that’s what it comes to!” Really needed to get on a boat.

“It’s broke a’ready,” The Innkeeper said

“Broke?” I said “how do you mean, broke?”

“It’s broke! and that’s the very reason he can’t sell it, I guess.”

“Landlord,” said I, going up to him as cool as a big mountain in a snow-storm—“landlord, stop whittling. You and I must understand one another, and that too without delay. I come to your house and want a bed; you tell me you can only give me half a one; that the other half belongs to a certain harpooneer. And about this harpooneer, you keep going on and telling me the most mystifying and exasperating stories which frankly, invoke upon me an uncomfortable feeling towards the man whom you design for my bedfellow—a sort of connection, landlord, which is an intimate and confidential one in the highest degree.”

I had once or twice in the past dabbled with the legal profession, and thought that this might have been a good opportunity to scare an old man with courtroom talk.

“I now demand of you to speak out and tell me who and what this harpooneer is, and whether I shall be in all respects safe to spend the night with him. And in the first place, you will be so good as to retract that story about selling his head, which if true I take to be good evidence that this harpooneer is stark mad, and I’ve no intention of sleeping with a madman; and you, sir, you I mean, landlord, you, sir, by trying to induce me to do so knowingly, would thereby render yourself liable to a criminal prosecution.”

I folded my arms and snorted in that way I always assumed lawyers would do after making a good case.

“Wheeeeeeell,” said the landlord, fetching a long breath, “that’s a purty long sarmon for a chap that rips a little now and then. But be easy, be easy, this here harpooneer I have been tellin’ you of has just arrived from the south seas, where he bought up a lot of ’balmed New Zealand heads (great curios, you know), and he’s sold all on ’em but one, and that one he’s trying to sell to-night, cause to-morrow’s Sunday, and it would not do to be sellin’ human heads about the streets when folks is goin’ to churches. He wanted to, last Sunday, but I stopped him just as he was goin’ out of the door with four heads strung on a string, for all the airth like a string of inions.”

My case was lost, the landlord was making total sense. He wasn’t trying to trick me into anything, all that weird laughter must have just been his normal laugh, and he was thinking of something funny, like clowns or a puppet show he might have seen earlier on.

Still, a literal head salesman sounded like a pretty sketchy prospect to me, and I wasn’t super keen on sharing a bed with a guy who does weird cannibal shit.

“This guy sounds fucking nuts” I said. “You’d better be careful around guys like that, Innkeeper.”

“He pays reg’lar,” The Innkeeper said “But come, it’s getting dreadful late, you had better be turning flukes—it’s a nice bed; Sal and me slept in that ere bed the night we were spliced. There’s plenty of room for two to kick about in that bed; it’s an almighty big bed that. Why, afore we give it up, Sal used to put our Sam and little Johnny in the foot of it. But I got a dreaming and sprawling about one night, and somehow, Sam got pitched on the floor, and came near breaking his arm. Arter that, Sal said it wouldn’t do. Come along here, I’ll give ye a glim in a jiffy;” and so saying he lit a candle and held it towards me, offering to lead the way. But I stood irresolute; when looking at a clock in the corner, he exclaimed “I vum it’s Sunday—you won’t see that harpooneer to-night; he’s come to anchor somewhere—come along then; do come; won’t ye come?”

He was really keen on me coming, and that seemed reasonable enough since he was taking me to my bed, so I followed him, all good.

We got to the room and the bed was massive. Enormous, you could fit four harpooneers in it, even if they were massive like that Bulkington guy. A four Bulkington bed, what a thought!

“There,” said the innkeeper, placing the candle on a crazy old sea chest that did double duty as a wash-stand and centre table, thrifty!; “there, make yourself comfortable now, and good night to ye.” after a while I turned round from eyeing the bed, but he had disappeared.

I took a closer look at the bed, it wasn’t fancy, but it wasn’t too bad, and it was still enormous. Besides the crazy chest there wasn’t much else in terms of furniture, just a few shelves and a big drawing of a guy hitting a while and a bunch of harpooneer paraphernalia including a big harpoon and a hammock.

Hammocks, famously, are for sleeping on. I thought it seemed insane that we had come to this; planing down a bench, sharing a bed with a head salesman, and yet no fucking mention had ever been made that there was a spare hammock going. Insanity. There even loads of hooks just strung about the place, it wouldn’t be hard to set up.

There was an object on the chest, being naturally inquisitive, I grabbed it, sniffed it, licked it, looked at it, sniffed it again, held it far away and looked at it again. It looked like a doormat, but it had holes in it like clothes.

What kind of monster human would wear something so deranged?

I put it on out of interest, it was itchy and damp. I imagined this harpooneer must have been using it like some kind of raincoat.

I found a big shard of glass and looked at my reflection in it.

It looked like shit. I ripped it off my body so furiously and hastily that I pulled a muscle in my neck.

I thought about this Harpooneer and his doormat, and slowly started to undress. First my coat, what’s the deal with selling heads? Guy must be crazy. Then my smaller coat that I wear underneath the other one. Who wears a doormat? I sat there thinking a bit longer, figuring out how naked I could get without tempting fate and having this maniac burst into my room to punch me.

I made a calculated decision, got naked, and bunkered down under the sheets.

Whether that mattress was stuffed with corn-cobs or broken crockery, there is no telling, but I rolled about for ages, couldn’t get to sleep. At last I slid off into a light doze, and was nearly there into a proper sleep, when I heard a heavy footfall in the passage, and saw a glimmer of light come into the room from under the door.

I held my breath as he entered the room, his little candle didn’t reach me as I shivered under the covers. He put the candle down in the corner and started going through his bag. I couldn’t see his face, until he turned around and then I could. His face was a monster mash hodgepodge of all sorts of colours and shapes. Oh bloody hell he’s been out fighting and his face is covered in cuts and bruises and plasters, I thought, He’d be a horrible guy to share a bed with! But then I remembered hearing stories about people going to New Zealand and getting face tattoos, maybe that’s what had happened to this guy.

He pulled out some weird items from his bag, including an axe and a hairy wallet, then he crammed this weird shrunken head down into the bottom of the bag and then the weirdest part came. He took off his hat and he was mostly bald except for a weird topknot thing on his forehead, awful! Let me tell you, I nearly fucking legged it, faster than I’d have ever eaten a dumpling.

I know it was my ignorance stoking my fear of this guy, but I’d never seen a guy like this before, and my fear, brought on as it was by ignorance was enough to stop me asking what his deal was, so it was like a little vicious cycle with just me in the middle of it, being afraid and thinking about jumping out of the window, but I’d come up a lot of steps to get here, and I didn’t fancy skipping them down to street level. Not naked anyway.

Speaking of naked, he was getting his clothes off now. His chest and arms were covered in the same sort of tattoos as his face. It looked like he’d been in a war for thirty years or so, and now wore the customary thirty-year war checkered plaster shirt. Maybe he was just really into chess, I didn’t know and I didn’t ask.

Then came the naked legs, these pins were tattooed as well, with frog footprints. I assume they were tattoos, it could be that he’d just been climbed on by some sort of exotic lizard which does tattoos as it goes. It’s a big world out there, you can’t ever say you know everything about it. Either way, this guy was a lunatic and I was pretty sure that these heads of his were the heads of his murder victims who were probably his own brothers, because look at him, what a monster! I only hoped that he hated my head so he wouldn’t think to take it with him later on. Heavens! Look at that tomahawk!

He still hadn’t seen me though, fixed as he was on the bag. He fished out some little black figurine, which he seemed to be very reverent about. He popped it in the fireplace and I was confused but thought it looked kinda cool in a way.

The fireplace placement started to make sense when the fella pulled out a bunch of wood shavings (what is it with this town and woodshavings???) and put them around the figure, before lighting them on fire and throwing a ship’s biscuit (or normal biscuit, to sailors like me) on top of it.

He then started making weird noises and then burned his hands quite badly trying to get the biscuit out of the fire. He offered it to the little figure, but it wasn’t interested, so he ate it.

Then he stuffed the figure back into his bag with all the un-ceremony of my shopkeeper bagging my bread.

I couldn’t think of much else he could be getting up to before getting into bed, and frankly, even if there was something I probably didn’t want to see it, so I thought it was about time to make myself known, or else he’d probably find me with his hands shortly.

But the moment I spent deliberating what to say was a fatal one. Taking up his tomahawk from the table, he squinted at it, holding it up to the light, stuck his mouth on the handle, and puffed out great clouds of tobacco smoke (wow!). The next moment the light was extinguished, and this wild cannibal, tomahawk between his teeth, sprang into bed with me. I yelped, I could not help it now; and giving a sudden grunt of astonishment he began feeling me.

I windmilled my entire body away from him, slamming up against the wall, I babbled various apologies and fumbled to get a candle or lantern going so I could explain why I’d been in his bed for so long, just watching him in the darkness without saying anything. I think he got the wrong impression.

“WHO ARE YOU? I’LL KILL YE!” He shouted at me, swishing that flaming pipe-axe around at me, scattering hot ashes around so that they nearly set the bedsheets on fire.

“Landlord, for God’s sake, Peter Coffin!” I shouted, bravely. “Landlord! Watch! Coffin! Angels! save me!”

“Speak! Tell me who ye be, or damn me, I’ll kill ye!” He continued to spin the axe around.

The innkeeper arrived with a light and a grin, I ran over and clutched at his shirt.

“Don’t be afraid now,” he said, grinning again, “Queequeg here wouldn’t harm a hair of your head.”

“Stop grinning!” I squealed, assertively. “Why didn’t you tell me he was a bloody cannibal?”

“I thought ye know’d it;—didn’t I tell ye, he was a peddlin’ heads around town?—but turn flukes again and go to sleep. Queequeg, look here—you sabbee me, I sabbee—you this man sleepe you—you sabbee?”

I did not sabbee, I had not idea what this meant.

“Me sabbee plenty”—grunted Queequeg, puffing away at his pipe and sitting up in bed. Instantly calm.

“Come, Get yerself abed, stranger.” he added, motioning to me with his tomahawk, and throwing the clothes to one side. He really did this in not only a civil but a really kind and charitable way. I stood looking at him a moment. For all his tattooings he was on the whole a clean, comely looking cannibal. What’s all this fuss I have been making about, thought I to myself—the man’s a human being just as I am: he has just as much reason to fear me, as I have to be afraid of him. Better sleep with a sober cannibal than a drunken Christian.

“Landlord,” said I, “tell him to stash his tomahawk there, or pipe, or whatever you call it; tell him to stop smoking, in short, and I will turn in with him. But I don’t fancy having a man smoking in bed with me. It’s dangerous. Besides, I ain’t insured.”

This being told to Queequeg, he at once complied, and again politely motioned me to get into bed—rolling over to one side as much as to say—“I won’t touch a leg of ye.”

“Good night, landlord,” said I, “you may go.”

I turned in, and never slept better in my life.

#moby dick #ishmael #queequeg #whale weekly #peter coffin #pranks

4 notes · View notes

bethpeaches123 · 4 years ago

Note

Everlark #46

Okay, this took much longer than I’d hoped, but that’s because every time I thought I was finished, something new popped into my head and I had to include it, so it’s also much longer than I’d anticipated. But, here it is, @mandelion82! I hope you enjoy! I’m thinking of continuing it too, so stay tuned! Also going to post it on AO3. :)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Everlark 46: nanny/single parent au

The Nanny/Babysitter/Minder

When Katniss Everdeen placed an ad looking for a nanny to care for her five-year-old daughter Cassie, the gorgeous blond, blue-eyed specimen of a man standing on her front porch was not exactly what she had in mind.

“Can I…help you? Sir?” she asked, trying to wipe the puzzled expression off her face when she opened the door.

He smiled, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his dark wash jeans, looking slightly puzzled himself. “I’m Peeta. Peeta Mellark? I emailed you about the nanny position for your daughter? We agreed I’d come over to meet her at one o’clock today?” he replied. His eyes flickered to the side at the sound of a car horn behind him on the busy street, then flicked back to Katniss while he waited for her response.

Flustered that Peeta was apparently a man’s name and not an old woman’s like she’d assumed, (Why had she assumed that? What could have it been short for? Petunia? Come on, Katniss) she hesitated and then said, “oh, yes, of course. Um, please, come in,” stepping aside to let the subtly muscular man walk past her and into the hallway.

Hesitating again, she decided to throw caution to the wind and continue with the appointment with this man, Peeta. She hadn’t received any other responses to the ad she’d placed two weeks prior, and she was getting desperate. Her surgery schedule had changed at the hospital, thanks to crotchety Chief Abernathy who didn’t care about her childcare woes, and she needed to find someone to pick Cassie up from school until her current shift rotation changed again in a few months’ time. If it changed. Knowing Abernathy, he’d keep her on this schedule indefinitely.

“Cassie? Can you come out please sweetheart, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” she called down the hall.

She motioned for Peeta to proceed into the living room as a tiny pixie of a girl came bounding down the hall and into the room, her dark brown hair in two messy braids down her back. “Mama, I was playing,” she whined, but stopped and stared, wide-eyed at the blond man standing in front of her. “Who are you?” she asked, curiously.

“Cassie honey, I told you we’d be meeting your new nann-err…your….baby-um…your…minder…today. Remember?” hastily fumbling over what to call Peeta. “This is Mr. Mel-um, Peeta.”

“Hi Mr. Peeta,” Cassie whispered, peering up at him shyly as her little mouth curling into a smile.

Peeta knelt down in front of Cassie and held out his hand. “Hello Miss Cassie, it’s very nice to meet you. You can call me just Peeta, though, if you’d like,” he replied, gently smiling at the girl. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, I hope.”

“Cassie, why don’t you tell Peeta about school? Cassie just started grade one. Peeta, can I get you something to drink?” asked Katniss, starting towards the kitchen. She needed to put some distance between herself and this gorgeous man. Needed to catch her breath and steady herself – it had been a while since she’d been around anyone who made her feel so flustered. She was usually so calm and cool-headed; she needed to be, being an orthopedic surgeon and all. When Peeta didn’t reply right away, she turned to face him and found him staring straight at her.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, his eyes warm as he looked at her for a beat longer than normal, before turning his focus back to her mini-me sitting before him on the floor. She could feel the heat from his brief gaze go straight to her core. She shivered and spun on her heel, swiftly walking to the kitchen. What was that? As she poured herself a glass of water, she gave herself a mental shake before gulping it down and returning to the living room to sit and observe.

As Katniss watched the two interact on the floor, her initial hesitations began to melt away. Peeta was patient, attentive and gentle with her sweet girl, listening to her talk about her dolls, how much she wanted a cat (Katniss refused - she and felines did not get along) and how nice her kindergarten teacher Mr. Cinna was. Peeta asked her questions about her favourite colour (purple, but also green, like Mama) what she wanted to be when she grew up (a veterinarian) and her favourite flavour ice cream (Rocky Road).

After 45 minutes had passed and the two seemed thick as thieves, Katniss’s worries were gone. Her desperation to find someone to look after Cassie while she was at work had melted away as she watched Cassie, normally a shy, reserved little girl, open up and giggle at the gentle man who made silly faces and showed her pictures of his cat, Cupcake (she could’ve scolded him for that - she didn’t need Cassie getting any more ideas about wanting a cat.) Occasionally, she’d laugh softly at something one of them would say, and she’d catch Peeta’s eye when he’d glance at her and smile warmly, his dimples dusting his cheeks.

With her ex Gale no longer in the picture, and her mother and sister living two states away, she didn’t have any family support. Peeta seemed to be the answer to her prayers, judging from how quickly he and her daughter got along. Plus…he wasn’t hard on the eyes. Stop lusting after the hired help, Katniss. Get it together.

After some more time had passed, Katniss looked at her watch and said, “Well, I think we’ve taken up enough of Peeta’s time, Cassie, and you have to get ready to head out to your singing lesson too,” said Katniss, standing up and motioning to her daughter to go to her room and get ready. “Why don’t you brush your teeth, use the bathroom and get your sheet music from your bedroom while I talk to Peeta?”

“But I don’t haveta use the bathroom, Mama,” Cassie grumbled. She didn’t make any moves to get up from her spot on the floor next to Peeta, who smartly stayed silent as he watched the mother and daughter talk.

“You will as soon as we get in the car and by then it’ll be too late. Go, please, missy,” replied her mother, sternly.

Peeta stood up from where he’d been sitting crossed legged on the floor with Cassie and dipping into a deep bow, offered her his hand to pull her up. “May I be of service to the young lady and help her up?” His eyes twinkled as she giggled again and placed her little hand in his, letting him easily pull her to her feet. “Will I see you again, Mr. Peeta?” she asked shyly, glancing at her mother before turning back to him.

“I would like that, Miss Cassie. How about I chat with your mama while you get ready? It’s a good idea to listen to her - she knows best,” he replied gently.

Cassie huffed, but turned and bounded out of the room, the chorus of “Let It Go” echoing down the hall as she went.

Peeta chuckled and shook his head amusedly, shoving his hands in his front pockets, adopting his stance from earlier. He turned his gaze to Katniss once again, his piercing blue eyes warm and kind. Before she could speak, Peeta beat her to it.

“She seems like a wonderful little girl, Mrs. Everdeen. I’d be happy to look after her for you when needed,” he said. “I can provide a list of references and my child CPR certification if you’d like. I mean, if you’d like me to...if you’d like t-to hire me?” He stuttered, watching her face spread into a wide, amused smile.

“It’s Dr. Everdeen, actually. Ms. Dr. Everdeen, really. I’m not married. Ever. Haven’t ever been married. I mean, not that that matters, I’m jus-I mean Cassie’s father and I weren’t married, we were just together, but he’s not around anymore, he-” what was wrong with her? She was a top-notch surgeon; a strong, independent woman, raising a child on her own. Why was she so tongue-tied around this man? She took a deep breath and said, “Katniss is fine. And your references and other files would be great. Could you email them to me please?”

Amused by her stuttered response that mirrored his own, Peeta replied, “Okay. Katniss it is, and yes, I’ll send them over today.” He seemed relieved that she was as nervous as he was.

After they discussed hours and rate of pay, the one questions that had been nagging in the back of her mind finally couldn’t be left unasked. “Why do you want this job?” She blurted.

Mortified, she continued before he could even open his mouth. “Sorry, it’s just...when I placed the ad, I expected to find an old, grandmother-type woman. Not a young, handsome guy. I mean-I just...I haven’t come across a lot of male...nannies,” she trailed off, embarrassed by her word choice. Did I just call him handsome? To his face? Oh god, I wish I could bury MY face in my hands right about now.

Peeta shifted somewhat uncomfortably from one foot to the other before replying. “That’s a fair question, I guess. I work in my family’s bakery in the mornings, but my day is finished by noon. I wanted something to fill the rest of my days and I love kids – I have a niece and nephew who are just the greatest, I love spending time with little people that age, they’re so inquisitive and honest. I’ve actually thought about going back to school to become a teacher – I mean, I haven’t ruled it out yet, I’m only twenty-six, that’s not too old. Plus, I thought about how much of a struggle it must be sometimes to be a single parent and if I have the ability and capacity to help someone out, well, then I want to do that.” He realized he was rambling a bit and flushed with embarrassment. “Is that weird? I just thought I’d combine helping people and kids and...well, here I am. Here we are.”

“Here we are indeed,” mused Katniss, staring at him wonderingly. “That seems like as good a reason as any, I suppose.” She started to turn away but stopped and looked at him once again. “And I do appreciate the help, by the way…can you start Monday?” Her lips curved into a small smile, Peeta beamed back at her, this time his dimples on full display.

“Great! Yes, Monday’s great. Okay. Good. I think this will be...great. I’ve said great a lot. I’ll stop,” said Peeta sheepishly, running his hand through his messy blond curls. His face flushed bright red again, a shade Katniss found endearing.

Before she could respond again, Cassie came bounding down the hallway, her teeth clean and music bag in tow. “I’m ready, Mama! Mr. Peeta, so will I see you again?” She asked hopefully, peering up at her new friend once again.

Peeta glanced at Katniss, who smiled and nodded, before replying to Cassie. “You will! I’ll be there to pick you up from school on Monday. I have a very serious question for you though, Miss Cassie. Are you ready to hear it?” Her brow furrowed as she nodded slowly. “Do you like to have fun?” She little face broke out into a grin as she nodded again, more enthusiastically this time. “Well good,” he continued. “Because we’re going to have lots of it.”

Hearing her child break out into giggles again melted her heart and stirred something inside her. Looking at Peeta, she met his intense gaze with one of her own, grateful for this kind man to care for the more important person in her life.

“Well, it’s time to go, sweetheart. Peeta, thank you so much again. We’ll be chatting before Monday to go over the rest of the particulars,” said Katniss, ushering Cassie out the front door and turning to Peeta once again. As he moved past her to go through the front door, his hand lightly pressed against the small of her back to step around her, and Katniss felt the heat of his touch through her coat. It spread from her back throughout her body, right down to her toes. She froze as he passed through the door and hopped down the steps, turning back to look at her and flashed his dimples once again. Oh my. This is going to be interesting…

“I’ll speak to you very soon, Katniss. Cassie, I’ll see you Monday afternoon!” he called, cheerfully as he waved and headed to his car.

“I like Mr. Peeta, Mama. He’s nice. And he has a cat!! Do you think he can bring Cupcake over to play with me sometime?” Cassie babbled as Katniss strapped her into her seat, her mind replaying the memory of Peeta’s touch on her back over and over. She flushed again, thinking of how close his muscular body had to hers been when he walked by, how his blue eyes sparkled when he stared at her, how his dimples seemed to make an appearance when he beamed at her….how his ass looked when he bent over to help Cassie up...

Oh no. She was in trouble.

A young, hot, (she has to admit he was hot, there was no denying it) kind, patient man was going to be looking after her child and thus very, very involved in her life for the unforeseeable future. This would be interesting indeed…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

#everlark fanfiction #everlark #everlark fanfic #mama!katniss #katniss everdeen #Peeta Mellark #babysitter!peeta #The Hunger Games

60 notes · View notes

celestialflamesme · 4 years ago

Text

| A LOVER, NOT A FIGHTER | A GaLe One-shot | Fairy Tail |

Ships: Gajeel x Levy, a bit of Natsu x Lucy

This is dedicated to @luna-chan00 and Kuro-san and the amazing guild I am a part of!! @biorckstudios18 @primaverafrog All of you made my day😁😄

At 4'10" most found Levy McGarden, a petite bluenette, cute and tiny and basically harmless.

Most would be right.

Levy was a lover, not a fighter. Even her admirers and companions, Jet and Droy weren't convinced their crush was safe going almost anywhere, and took it as their personal mission to guard the tiny faerie from danger. (If they ever stopped fighting, that is.)

She was a booksexual through and through however, so half the time there was no need for protecting of any sort because she had her nose buried in some book or another. (If only her friends took a hint and fought OUTSIDE THE LIBRARY. Porlyusica gave her enough nasty looks without them in the picture anyways. And why would anyone want to talk in the vicinity of BOOKS?!)

And there was no need for dating of any sort was there? As long as Augustus Waters, Rhysand and her other book boyfriends existed, her thirst for romance was quenched and that well was closed. Phew.

But then came Lucy Heartfilia, her best friend and fellow lover of intellectual pursuit. Lu-chan was currently writing her own book and story, which led to the current dilemma Levy was in. Because Lu-chan's story was based on her very own fairy tale with Natsu.

Now don't take her the wrong way, she was soo happy for her best friend! (Well, maybe not that much considering she lost a bet of 500 jewels to Cana over when NaLu (her OTP!!) would finally sail...) But when the two soulmates finally realised their feelings for each other and began dating, it opened up the box of What if's that Levy had kept locked up and she found herself craving one of her own. Badly.....

Her friends told her to try dating Jet or Droy, but she'd basically grown up with them and they were more of brothers to her than anything.

It was with these thoughts that she boarded the train to Magnolia with Lu-chan. Their favourite fantasy writer had a book launch and Levy had one two passes at a random raffle she'd entered (Porlyusica had mentioned it to her, albeit begrudgingly. Levy had squealed and hugged her so tight she'd whacked the bluenette with a dictionary. Owie! But so worth it.)

Even the rain didn't seem to dampen their mood as they stepped out the station with identical Cheshire grins on their faces.

"LU-CHAN THAT WAS SOO AMAZING!! LOOK AT THESE T-SHIRTS WE GOT!!" Levy squealed.

"I KNOW!!!" Lucy did a little happy dance that made them burst into giggles. "I feel so bad that we didn't get a sword for Erza too, you know."

"Oh we'll get her strawberry cake or something. That'll cheer her up!" Levy snapped her fingers.

Lucy grinned. "Natsu said there's a bakery right around here that sells the best cupcakes. I bet a couple 50 of those and a strawberry cake would win over our Titania!"

"Ah Lu-chan, I can't walk another minute. Tiny legs, remember?" Levy sighed. "I'll wait over here, take my umbrella! Be safe and text me okay?"

The blonde gave her a thumbs-up in response as she headed North.

Levy scanned her surroundings and finding her destination, a warm seat at just the right distance for maximum cool wind effect and minimum rain, she deposited her bags (Did they really buy so much merch? It felt like it was so little!) and perched herself on it. Now if only she had a cup of tea-

A rustle from behind had her tilting her head and just in time as she stopped herself from gasping.

There approaching her was the tallest man she'd ever seen.

Like seriously, he was gargantuan! His hair was rough looking and reached up to his shoulders. The man was decked in black and his piercings Good Lord. He looked like a mafia lord out of a Wattpad fanfic!

(And no, Levy was no fool. She wasn't gonna be kidnapped or mugged today, oh no. No amount of sweet loving later would convince her. Nu-uh. She had a working brain, aye sir!)

The giant (okay, that may be a bit ride but what else would she call him? Rust bucket? By the way, how did he keep those piercings from rusting? Did he change them everyday? What did he look like without them?) sat silently next to her. Levy sent a silent prayer to the anime gods and texted Lu-chan asking her to hurry up. Nervously fidgeting, she put her hand in her purse just in case.

A text from Lu-chan. "Levy-chan, why don't you meet me at platform 135 and we go from there? These cupcakes are no joke! I shouldn't have skipped Arm day!" Uh oh. But it was still raining and these were a lot of bags.

She took in a deep breath and stood up determined. But right as she went to pick a bag from the seat, her peripheral vision caught the stranger's hand reach out.

In a span of 3 seconds, she took out the dagger she'd bought at the book launch and pointed it at him. "NOT TODAY, SUCKER!"

Ah, now you may ask, What was the big "I'm a lover, not a fighter" bullshit you just fed us a second earlier? And to that she'd say, she hadn't a clue why she did it. She was well trained in the art of Blades (Erza was a very passionate knife-thrower and a believer of womanly self defense.Enough said.) But whip out a dagger? She didn't mean to!!

The stranger blinked at her and raised his arms in surrender. "Whoa there little Scorpion, I was just trying to help ya with those bags there. Because it's raining and all."

She squinted at him suspiciously, "How do I know that?"

"Because I told you, gihee! " He toothily grinned. Oh dear, was that the grin her book boyfriends gave the protaganists? She could totally see the appeal. She was supposed to be immune, damn it!

"I guess you can? Though I don't reckon you'd want to now considering I held you at knifepoint."

"I like a feisty shrimp. We have to work on your stance however. Someone could just go whoop and carry you on their shoulder like a sack of potatoes." He cheekily commented. She nervously laughed.

Grabbing a bunch of her bags (Looks like he didn't skip on Arm day. Oh vey....) he marched obediently by her side till they reached Lucy who had to blink several times before she realised she wasn't dreaming.

"Thank you-", she paused, waiting for his name.

"You can call me Gajeel. You can also call me." He grabbed a piece of paper seemingly out of nowhere. Before she could register what was happening, he used her head as a bench and jotted down his digits. She squeaked (Since!! When!! Did!! She!! Squeak!!) in protest earning a throaty chuckle from him and a confused sound from Lucy (Me too, Lu-chan, me too...) He handed his number to her.

"Don't get lost in the big city, little shrimp! Take care of her for me, Bunny girl!" Gajeel laughed as he went the other way.

Lucy finally turned toward her bluenette friend. "What just happened?"

"I have no idea, Lu-chan!" She was confused and kind of miffed at the teasing and confidence this random stranger had. Who did he think he was?

And yet that night, when she texted him Goodnight after a longgggg conversation, (She even forgot about the three fanfics she'd planned to binge on that night! Who would've thought?) she found herself sighing.

Yup, she was definitely a lover, not a fighter.

#gale #gajeel redfox #levy mcgarden #fairy tail #oneshot #fluff #gajeel×levy

20 notes · View notes

genuflectx · 4 years ago

Text

4th Dimensional Being/OC - CH2

Full Length: 19,543

Chapter Length: 3,238

Main Themes: Other dimensions, tentacles, confinement, nsfw

Other Warnings: politics, "godly" behaviors, vomit, feeling of loss of autonomy, comparison to a toy

(all images in aesthetic board are labeled for reuse with modification or are mine)

Remember the entire story (including downloads!) is up for Patrons wink wink.... enjoy CH2 (WILL BE NSFW IN LATER CHAPTERS)

The 4DB Chapter 2: Gabriel

One moment she'd been processing letters and packages for barely above minimum wage and then the next moment she'd been processed into a cold research facility. Her body was exhausted from the day-and-a-half trip. And her mind? She was still only partially sure this was truly happening. All she really understood for certain was that something had spoken to her, and that something was being called a '4DB.'

The white-coat in the heels asked to be called Gale, short for Nightingale. Chris knew this was not her actual name. Regardless, Gale was currently the nicest person she'd met so far and she was the one to finally brief her... after Chris gave her own story, of course. But when Gale did eventually explain the situation to her Chris found herself slowly sinking into awe.

The 4DB had begun speaking to seven humans on Saturday, a mere three and a half days ago. Gale had even gone so far as to give Chris the list of names, as if they would have some meaning to her: Chrysanthemum Sain, Aaron Boucher, Morgan Airhart, Cole Artrip, Nathan Hunter, John Barker, and lastly the president's name.

“And it really just wants to study us?” She'd asked.

Gale had smirked a little and folded her hands up. “Make no mistake. We are studying it, too.”

However, the 4DB did speak to the staff as well. Just in short, stern bouts of command. Do this, do that, prepare this, prepare that. It had no concern for the staff. It just wanted its six human subjects in a secure location. Seemed that the scientists being on site were a compromise.

Chris tilted her head minutely, eyes squinted. “Six? But there were seven humans?”

That made Gale chuckle. “The president will of course not be joining us.”

“...Right.”

Chris was then told a limited amount of information about the scientists' studies. Since they had so little time to re-locate on-site the facility was currently understaffed. That meant, unfortunately, no real research had begun. Though no experiments had been conducted the group was able to conclude that whatever the 4DB was it was not traceable. There were no changes in temperature nor air pressure in any of the rooms which it had spoken, neither during nor after. As far as they were able to gather with their limited resources the creature was... just not there. No one could see it. No one could feel it. All they could do was hear it and that wasn't even recordable either, as it gave no sound waves.

“Wait wait. But it touched me,” Chris had interrupted, confused.

The look of joy upon the scientist's face was genuine. “And that's why you are so interesting. It hasn't touched any of the other subjects. Well, unless they've lied to us. And we've one last subject yet to arrive as well. We will see.”

Gale continued. Though they'd yet to learn anything meaningful that would soon change. After all, the subjects were nearly gathered and her skeleton team had been diligently working to outline experiments. With the factor of the unknown it was going to be a challenge, but everyone was steeling themselves. Whatever this strange god-like creature had to say, whatever it wanted to do, her crew would be in wait ready to record it.

In short, the scientists hadn't learned shit yet. If Chris hadn't been so exhausted she'd have been frustrated. Instead she had slumped down into her chair, confusion stuck upon her features, and then promptly yawned.

The last thing Gale did was stand abruptly, finally gather Chris's cell phone up, and then open the door to the hall. “Come on, get some food. You can meet your peers and then be shown to your room.”

So here she was, sitting in a too-big cafeteria poking at strange rations upon her little plastic tray. It was like high school all over again. Chris nibbled at something green. She supposed it was meant to be peas, but it was mushed up. Like baby food. She shuttered.

Suddenly another tray clanked against the cold metal table and Chris looked up to find Cole settling in. He smiled at her, way too wired considering how little sleep they'd had. It was probably adrenaline.

“Guess they couldn't get real food in on such short notice?” He complained. “Gotta be a grocery store within driving distance right? Geez.”

It was at least nice to see him again. It had felt like hours in that dim room. Gale was kind but it did seem like she had been watching Chris way too closely.

“Feels like we're animals in a zoo,” Chris mumbled, tired. She tried to eat some more and made a face.

The older man shrugged. “Guess they told you everything too! Don't know about you but I'm looking forward to this. Doesn't it feel like something greater? Like a calling? Hey, maybe we ought to say hello to those fellas,” he gestured with a nod.

Three men sat at a further table chatting. They'd hardly glanced at Chris when she'd been shepherded in, though the youngest had smiled at her. “That's okay. I just want to eat then go to sleep. Why don't you go talk?”

Cole looked at her in thought. Then he smiled and patted her shoulder amicably. “Don't be a stranger, stranger!” He stood up and moved away.

He was a nice man. Chris wondered if he had any children. He certainly hadn't had any family photos at his house. She sighed, blinking sleepily, and hurried to try and finish her food.

They waited and waited. Chris had finished her food nearly half an hour ago. Finally Gale came into the cafeteria with another woman at her heels.

“Everyone's together now! Great! Someone will show you to your rooms shortly.”

It was like a dormitory, with two beds to a room. Everything was clean and tidy, the walls and floor a glaring white. There was at least a curtain for courtesy, which could be used to cut the room in two. Some quiet men brought their bags for them.

The woman who'd been with Gale turned out to be the final subject and was meant to share a room with Chris. She was relieved that she'd not need to sleep across from a strange man. As they unpacked and made the room more cozy Chris gave some pleasant small-talk, though the other wasn't that receptive.

“You can call me Chris. What's your name?” She asked.

The other woman, who was currently unpacking a teddy bear, answered. “Morgan.”

Chris nodded and folded some clothes away. She didn't think she could do much of this before she passed out, but it made things feel less weird. She could imagine she was back in college. Or that maybe she'd just moved. Yeah, she'd moved across country to somewhere small and warm. A cozy beach house rather than a cold, cramped dorm. She'd left her old job behind and settled into an early retirement. If only.

“So uh, where do you work Morgan?” Chris continued. “I was told everyone here is from the government.”

“The DMV,” she said curtly, frowning.

Chris chuckled awkwardly. “Oh, haha, yeah.” She didn't know why she laughed like that. For some reason it just felt tense. “I work for the post office so I know a little bit of how that must be. Lots of customer service.”

Morgan nodded. “Yeah...” She paused then moved to pull the courtesy curtain. “Well. Goodnight.”

Chris watched as the curtain cut the room, stranding her. She sighed. That was fine, she was pretty sleepy anyway. It was time for bed. She found sleep a difficult bear to wrestle. It was so cold and foreign, and no one ever really got a good night sleep somewhere cold and foreign. She could not for the life of her get her feet to warm up. When she did sleep she did not dream.

They were awoken by a knock, a metallic creak, and a “Rise and shine!”

The morning started with breakfast. And then, one by one, each member of the waiting group was taken away into another office where they were made to fill out paperwork. When they'd leave the room they'd have a lanyard and I.D. around their neck. Chris was fourth to go. She caught glimpses of the word liability as she flipped through a stack of documents. That wasn't frightening at all.

Once everyone was locked in as a member of the facility, and each had their clearance cards, they gathered before a bolted metal door. Soon a man who introduced himself as Jay began speaking, the features of his face void and controlled.

“Today the 4DB wants to talk to each of you. Individually,” he looked up over his glasses. “We will be monitoring everything. You will have a microphone attached to your chest. However, our studies have proven that we cannot hear the 4DB through the recording equipment-”

“How is that possible?” Interrupted a young man. Chris could see from his I.D. that his name was Nathan; he'd been the one to smile at her the night before.

Jay's expression flattened and wrinkled, as if he'd had to deal with this particular subject for too long already. “We have theories and those are currently classified. Now, you will go in alphabetical order and have thirty minutes each.”

Morgan cautiously rose her hand like this was a classroom. “And... what if something goes... wrong?” She questioned.

Jay blinked, Then he said: “Let's begin. Airhart Morgan, you're first,” he unlocked the great metal door.

Her eyes went wide and she froze like a rabbit on the road. Jay nearly had to force her in. After all, she was under contract now. She signed the papers like everyone else- as if they had a choice. She had to do this. Morgan took tiny bunny steps inside. When she left the room thirty minutes later her eyes were downcast and lips a tight line. She didn't want to talk.

“Artrip Cole,” Jay called.

Chris's kind older acquaintance just about skipped to the door. As everyone sat in wait for his thirty minutes to be up, Chris couldn't help but feel like she was in a doctor's office, which was of course the closest thing to purgatory one may get. She imagined the white-coat Jay as a gatekeeper, his voice calling forward those to be judged by a scrutinizing doctor's glare. Cole returned just as happy as he'd entered.

“Barker John,” Jay called.

“Boucher Aaron,” Jay called.

“Hunter Nathan,” Jay called.

Chris had been waiting for two and a half hours now. Everyone who had already spoken to the creature had left the waiting room so she remained alone. She'd had enough time to conjure up some good questions, and every time someone else came from the room with a strange expression she added a question more. Nathan came from the door and silently left the room.

“Sain Chrysanthemum,” Jay called. “Last one up.”

She stood. She slowly made way to the door. She stopped there a moment, thinking.

“Go on. Don't have all day,” Jay nudged her back.

“Right, sorry,” she nodded, entering.

Chris watched the door close gently behind her. Then there, in the center of the room, was a massive neon pink square twice her size. She gawked, speechless, and all the questions she'd accumulated leaked from her brain onto the white floor.

“Chrysanthemum,” came that loud, near mono-tone voice. It rushed into her head yet sounded from every direction at once. “Good to see you again, though I have been watching.”

She didn't register what had been said and instead stepped tentatively closer to the square. Chris was so distracted by it that she hadn't even been bothered when the 4DB called her by her full name. “What is this thing? Woah.” As she tried to walk around the square it followed. No matter what angle she took it remained a flat, consistent shape.

“It is equipment. You may only see a piece of its face or its inside, and it turns as you turn. It records your voice and your movement, just as that little equipment on your chest.”

She lifted her hand, her eyes following the plain to its high top. It felt...strangely textured. Like a giant sheet of paper, but more solid or plastic. She'd expected it to feel smooth.

The 4DB, on its other end, tilted themself curiously. “You are the only one who has touched it. Are you not still afraid, little creature?”

Chris dropped her hand and backed away. “I... guess I am a little. It's impossible not to be a little afraid of something that can bend reality. You, uuugh,” she shuttered, holding herself. “Touched my insides. It was like feeling an eel wriggle around in there.”

“Tell me about your government,” it asked abruptly, changing the subject.

She rose her brows and stared at the pink square like it was an eye. “What, the president wasn't good enough for that? Heard you talked to him.”

“You do not ask a government to judge itself. You ask those whom it affects. You work for this government and were chosen from a pool of many,” it explained. “So you will tell me.”

Chris paced slowly, looking at the ground. There was something between the lines with what it said and it bothered her. Finally, she said with no small amount of fear: “Or what?”

The 4DB was taken back. They had not expected that particular response, despite the rivers of possible time before them. “Or what?”

“I'll tell you... or what?” She waved a hand. “The scientists told us only so much, and Heaven knows they didn't give us time to read those lengthy contracts and legal documents. I'm not an idiot. We're being forced here against our will, right? There really wasn't a choice for us to come here or stay. We can't leave,” Chris stopped pacing. “If one of us doesn't cooperate like you want, will you kill us, Gabriel?”

“My name is not Gabriel.”

Chris blanked. Then she nearly doubled over with laughter, tears budding at her eyes. “That- that- all that and you only get one thing from it?”

“...I am... for once... confused,” the 4DB admitted sheepishly. “Why are you laughing? You didn't answer my question.”

She wiped the water from her eyes and caught her breath, feeling somewhat less tense. Really, of all she had just asked the thing only heard Gabriel. It reminded Chris of herself. This creature did not understand the people it was studying at all, and she supposed that was why it wanted to so badly.

“You didn't answer mine either!” She shook her head and leaned on the wall, feeling much lighter.

The 4DB's many, many tentacles twirled absentmindedly, again and again around themselves like a pool of snakes. “Your planet, your universe, your dimension, is of some interest to retain. However... you are small. And there are billions more to see.”

She felt sort of dizzy now, as if the absurdity of the situation was hitting her all over again. Just like when the creature first spoke to her in that parking lot. Chris had to let her mind slow down before speaking, though Gabriel didn't seem to care.

“So you mean yes. Yes, if we don't cooperate you'll kill us. Maybe the whole planet too,” she sighed and rubbed a hand down her cheek. “What do you want from us so badly that you'd hold us hostage for a little information?”

“We are deciding if you are worth the space you occupy, little creature,” the 4DB explained, though there was far more to it than that. After the ranting Chris had done they nearly felt too guilty to admit that playing with tiny insignificant things was just fun. Like an ant farm. One could nurture the ants or one could drown then. Were the ants of the Earth worth nurturing? That was yet to be determined.

She drummed her fingers on her forearm. So, she'd have to prove her worth. That scared her. All she could think about was that dream she'd had when she'd passed out. Those tiny, tiny shapes jittering on a plain below her feet. How they screamed in confusion. How she'd crushed a building by accident as she fell through the world. Chris looked up at the pink eye sullenly.

“Well. I guess you answered my questions, so. Our government is a business. It didn't used to be, but it is now. I mean, well it was always sort of a business, but it also sorta used to mean more than that,” she stared off in thought.

“Continue.”

She sighed and drummed her fingers on an arm some more. “There used to be more trust in it I think. But it's gotten so inflated, so... off from what it should be that even more 'traditional' thinkers are thinking twice. I guess I'm not helping my people's cause am I?” She asked sadly.

The 4DB leaned in close, keeping their body just inches from crossing the plain. “So that is how you see your leaders. Now Chris, how do they see you?”

She furrowed her brows and chewed her cheek for a moment. Then she shrugged. “Well I work for them, technically. They give me benefits. They keep the lights on. But just like any other business if I were to, for whatever reason, lose that job, I would automatically lose those benefits.”

“Explain further,” coaxed the 4DB curiously.

She liked complaining about the government as much as the next guy but it was just way too much to unravel. Hell, it wasn't like she was an expert. Chris tried, but the 4DB always had just one more question. She'd explain what 'benefits' were and then suddenly the creature wanted to know why benefits were necessary at all.

“So if your government takes your job away your health is no longer provided for?” They scrutinized.

Chris felt like these questions were just digging her in a deeper and deeper ditch. She wanted the encounter to end already. “It's not like that everywhere. Most governments don't treat their people like that.”

“That is for the others to decide,” they said.

“Others?”

They nodded invisibly. “We work to gauge your species around the planet. As a whole. I am not the only one.”

Chris stayed quiet, thinking that over. So maybe she didn't just get the world marked for destruction. Even if she thought her own government was pretty shit most of the time, the other countries around the world would surely help humanity's cause. Maybe, on average, humanity wouldn't look so bad. Maybe the 4DBs would show mercy.

“Your time is up, the workers would like you to leave the chamber. We will talk again soon, Chris.”

She drummed her fingers on her arm and stared at the tall pink square. It gave her weird mixed feelings. Finally she straightened herself and gave a small smile. “Hey, you said my name right. Too bad, you're still Gabriel,” she winked and made for the door.

Though annoyed, Gabriel replied as the door shut: “If you wish.”

Go see chapter 3 (and the rest of the story) on Patreon, otherwise stick around and wait for it to go public :}

#terato #exophilia #monster romance #tentacles #monsters #4th dimension #flatland #monster lover #art #writing

21 notes · View notes

theartisticintrovert · 5 years ago

Text

Case #0130403

Statement of Jason Gale, regarding the strange occurrences surrounding Daniel Fenton. Original statement given 3rd April, 2013. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.

I wanna start this by saying that I barely knew Danny. I don’t know how he became what he is, but what I did see, well...I still have nightmares. I guess I should start at the beginning, though I’m not really sure how much of a beginning there is.

I never had the greatest home life. Pretty textbook, really. Shitty dad, dead mom, bad friends, the works. I ran away when I was fourteen, fell in with a real bad crowd. I’d been in and out of juvie every few months, but I didn’t meet Danny until I was sixteen. I’d been picked up at the scene of a robbery, don’t even remember where, and sent off to Amity Youth Detention Center. I’d been there for about three months when my old cellmate got released, so I was on my own for a bit. I didn’t mind, D Block wasn’t exactly the worst it could get.

Danny transferred in a few weeks later. At first, I didn’t think much of him. He was tiny, barely 5’4 I think, and he looked like a twig. His eyes, though.....his eyes were what scared me the most. They looked dead, like someone sucked all the life outta him, just leaving his corpse walkin’ around like some kinda zombie. They sent him in and he just.....stared, watching Officer McCarthy leave like he was already planning the poor bastard’s funeral. I freaked out a little. I’m not ashamed, kid was fuckin’ scary.

That’s when it happened. It’s like something snapped in him. The room got all cold, and the lights started flickering. He shoved me up against the wall and I dunno how but it felt like this.....predator staring at me. I don’t even remember what he said, but I just agreed to whatever it was so he’d stop staring at me. I swear his eyes were green, but it had to just be a trick of the light. It had to be, because I remember they were blue. I remember, because I remember thinking how weird it was for an Asian kid to have blue eyes.

Still, when he got mad......I swear to you, they were green.

Sorry, I got a little.....off track there. There were a few more weird things about him, but just little things. He never ate, and I know it wasn’t that he was eating when I couldn’t see him. AYDC has scheduled meal times for every block, and every single time it was D’s turn he just....stayed in bed. There’s no getting in or out once the door’s locked, so he wasn’t sneaking around. And yet, even after about a week and a half of this, he was fine. No complaining, no hunger pains, not even a little bit of nausea. Like.....like he didn’t need food. I asked him about it, but the answer, well.....I think he was a bit nutty. Everyone was in there.

I managed to get him into the cafeteria one time, though not for very long. I think Emily, that is, Emily Grey, scared him off, but I can’t be sure. I do remember though, that the others felt it too. Danny was.....he had this like, aura of despair. Like you get near him, and nothing you do will make you feel again. Owen Coulter said he “felt like depression, if depression was a person”. I only remember that because it was so strange to hear a twelve year old say that with the knowledge that only an old man has, but there it was anyway.

He got transferred a few days later, or....I assume he was transferred, anyway. I heard he’d finally gotten his trial, but he didn’t come back after. I can only assume they sent him to F, because I didn’t see him for several months after that. I’d honestly just been starting to feel okay again when he came back to D. I only really noticed him because we were in the yard at the same time, and something in me wanted to turn around and bolt the second I spotted him. Still, he seemed.....different. Less angry, less......snappish. I noticed a few new scars on him too, which was strange just because the inmates at AYDC aren’t allowed any electronics, so how the hell did he get electrocution scars?

The next big one happened after he was released. He’d been out for about a week when I got a visitor. This was news to me, since my old man doesn’t give a rat’s ass about me and my friends wouldn’t be caught dead in a juvie visitation room. Only visitors I really got were my lawyer and sometimes my stepmom, but she didn’t come often. She doesn’t like me much, but that’s beside the point. When I saw Danny on the other side of that glass window, I about turned around right there. Unfortunately for me, the door was already shut and I couldn’t get anyone to open it, not from my side. Fuckin’ bastards probably stepped out for a donut break, who knows. The point is, Danny was....different.

His scars curled up both of his cheeks now, pale and prominent against his sickly brown skin. His eyes seemed a little sharper now, a little more aware. I wasn’t entirely sure this was a good thing. We argued a bit, but....I think he was genuinely trying to help. I didn’t trust him a damn bit, but at least he was trying.

I’ve been dancing around the point long enough, I think. Sure, the kid’s weird, you’re thinking. He’s got scars, so what? He makes you miserable just being around him? Probably some emo bastard. The whole predator gaze? Well, he was in for assault. No, the thing I’ve been avoiding, the thing that I’ll never forget....it was his ghost.

Way back when we were still bunkmates, he’d told me about how he died. How his parents were some kind of Ghostbuster freaks, and they built a portal to Hell in his basement. Okay, well, he called it the “Ghost Zone”, but who gives a fuck, honestly. Then he told me he was stupid enough to go in the damn thing, and got zapped six ways to Sunday. He said he’d died in that portal, and I didn’t want to believe him. I couldn’t. When you die, you die. That’s it. Game over. Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars. The idea that he could be some sort of.....half-alive, half-dead.....thing, well....I didn’t want to think about it. I’d already come to terms with my own mortality, and I did not need it shoved back in my face by some freaky-ass kid.

But then he showed me. God, it was horrible. I was expecting him to fail, just the delusions of his poor fucked up scrambled brains, some side effect of getting zapped to hell and back. Maybe, if it were true, to just go a bit translucent. I didn’t expect the monster.

It came in a flash of light. Two sparking rings of bright white electricity, so bright they burned to look at. When I managed to blink the spots outta my eyes, I almost thought I’d hit my head. Where Danny had been standing, a floating, glowing thing stood in his place. It was pale, washed out, with only its acid green eyes and tongue giving it any color at all. It wore a jumpsuit of some sort, with thick gloves and attached boots, like the biohazard guys on TV. It still had the scars though, even if they were glowing an ominous neon green. It hissed at me, like it was trying to speak, but I didn’t understand a word it said. When it turned that empty, hungry gaze on me, I panicked. I shoved it back against the wall, where it connected with a sickening splat. Blood oozed on the concrete, or at least, I assume it was blood. It was red and green and sizzled, like it was eating away at the stone. I think there’s still marks there, where the acid ate away at the concrete.

The thing wanted to eat me, I’m sure of it, but it seemed too dizzy. I think shoving it only made it more angry, but at that point the light came back. I looked away just in time, and when the light died down Danny was back. Still scrawny, still fleshy, still alive. Only now, I wasn’t so sure.

I haven’t seen another ghost since, and I think it’s for the best. I’ve done my research, I’ve heard about these....mediums. I know I can’t see them, not on this plane. Honestly, I’m better off for it I think. I don’t want to see them, or hear them, or even think about them again.

I didn’t give you this statement to have you do something about it. I don’t even know if you have the ability to do anything, since all this happened in Illinois. I didn’t come all the way to some dingy spooky library in fucking London for a solution. I’ve made my peace. I just.....I needed to tell somebody. Not the cops, I don’t trust them as far as I could throw them. And not anyone else either, they’d think I’m a schizo freak, like that Weston kid. No, I’m perfectly happy laying low, and never thinking about Daniel Fenton again. And now that I have this off my chest and stored away in your freaky little library, I finally can.

Statement ends. Although he said he didn’t want us to do anything about his experience, we did reach out to Mr. Gale. He replied in no uncertain terms for us to leave him alone, and that he absolutely would not be giving a follow-up statement. I....can’t say I blame him, but really, half-dead? A teenager that could turn into some paranormal entity? It all seems rather....far fetched.

Still, we did do some basic follow-up research on what we could. The Fentons do exist, as well as the town of Amity Park. I’d like to take everything about said town with a hefty dose of salt however, as it claims to be “The Most Haunted Place in America”. Tourist trap nonsense, if you ask me. Daniel Fenton was arrested in late summer of 2010, though those records are obviously sealed. Emily Grey declined to give a follow-up statement as well, and Owen Coulter seems to have unfortunately passed away in the intervening years.

Still, I can’t help but think that Mr. Gale’s statement is....unusually detailed, especially as it concerns a boy he himself claims to have no close connection to.

End recording.

#the magnus archives #tma #danny phantom #pavii #ty writes #i had to get this out of my brain

40 notes · View notes

jadekitty777 · 4 years ago

Text

Puppy Love

Bit of a weird entry and a challenge to write - but it only seemed right with a prompt like this, to write from the perspective of one of Tai and Qrow's "children".

Day 4: As Parents @taiqrowweek

Rating: T

Words: 5,300

Summary: Every dog in the shelter dreams of the day they'll be set free of their metal prisons to join a pack all their own. Despite being so inadequate he wasn't even honored a name, he dreams just as hard; though, with each adoption, that place he wishes to be seems to be getting further and further away.

And then, one word changes everything.

"Puppy?"

Ao3 Link: Puppy Love

The best day of his life happened exactly eight weeks and four days after he was born.

It had started out as usual. He woke up to the sound of the rest of the kennel-bound dogs starting up a ruckus as the keepers of their metal prisons walked down the line, cleaning cages and checking water and food bowls. After that, the big dogs were let out in small packs so they could play in the field. He never got to go; he was too small. Instead, he stuck his tiny head between the bars and said hello as they passed.

Most of them paid him little mind. Hades and Zeus, the Doberman twins, jeered his way. Roxie stuck up her nose, sassy as ever. She told him once her poodle pedigree made it impossible for her to converse with peasants. Whatever that meant. He made sure to duck his head back in if Captain was with them – the coonhound liked to snap at him.

Still, there were a select few that always took the time to say hello. Like old Benji, always limping over to give him a sniff. Or the energetic husky, Skystorm, hunkering down on his forepaws as if they might actually get a chance to play. Or the motherly Lady Lucy, who would fuss over him like he was one of her long-gone pups. She never tired of telling him how much he reminded her of her ‘clever little Dodger’.

“Why he could even get cats to work for him!” She told him today as she passed. “Cats, can you imagine?”

Polite as always, he said, “No ma’am. It sounds incredible though.”

“You’re gonna fill his head full of air with stories like that Lucy.” Benji laughed.

“Nonsense! Stories build character. Who will he ever know who to aspire to be like otherwise?”

The dog in the lead of their pack growled out, “You wasting your breath on that orphan.”

“Hunter, don’t be so rude. He’s just a pup!” Lady Lucy cried.

“Oh sorry, am I not coddling him enough?” Hunter swung his head around. He only had one eye, the other lost in a fight, but the single red orb seemed to freeze him in place. “You’ll have to get used to it, brat. No human’s gonna take a stubby runt like you.”

“You’re just nasty because no one’ll ever adopt you.” Skystorm barely dodged fast enough to avoid the rather vicious bite the alpha tried to deliver.

He heard the argument continue well down the hall until he could no longer make out the words. Not that he wanted to anymore. He pulled his head back in, walking to the back of his cage and laying on his bed of rags, intending on settling in for his after-breakfast nap. But he couldn’t get Hunter’s words out of his head.

As young as he was, even he had heard the talk about how great a home was. Some of the dogs here even came from one themselves – and those who hadn’t had tales from something they’d heard. A motley mesh of things like ‘leftovers’ given underneath the dinner table that left everyone slobbering just thinking about it. Of playtime chasing all sorts of fun toys. Of walks to the beach where he could dig to his heart’s content. Of endless belly scratches and ear rubs.

He’d dreamed of it all at least a dozen times. Imagined how soft his own bed would be or how large a yard he’d have to run in. But most of all, dreamed of the family that would take him in and never let go. He wanted it more than anything!

But, was Hunter right? He had never been treated like the other dogs here. They all had names and skills. He wasn’t a working dog. He couldn’t retrieve and he couldn’t herd. He wasn’t a fancy one either, like Roxy, who was convinced she’d have a life again as a show dog. He didn’t have a Doberman’s ferocity or a husky’s vigor or a pit bull’s strength. If he couldn’t provide for his pack in any way… then why would they want him at all?

He buried his nose into his paws, but it was a long time before he fell asleep.

When humans came, it was time to perform.

A lot of dogs barked and yowled and produced up a racket for attention, but his voice wasn’t powerful enough. So, instead, he stuck his head between the bars and let his tongue loll out, entire body shaking as he wagged as hard and excited as he could whenever the people passed on by. It often earned him a pet.

Today it was a big family of seven, and the nice, stout woman who had long nails gave him such a good scratch behind his ears, it left his hind leg shaking.

“Oh aren’t you precious?” She cooed. “You would look just great in my purse.”

“Gale, we’re not here for a lap dog.” One of the men of her pack chastised.

“It doesn’t hurt to look!”

His ears fell flat as she breezed on by.

They were there for some time, looking from cage to cage. They even had the caretakers take a few out, to do a “walk test”. Roxy was prim as ever, trotting like she was putting on a show. Skystorm raced them. Zeus kept trying to bump Hades aside. No one came back to his cage.

And, worse yet, they chose the best of them all.

He couldn’t help but whine as Lady Lucy was led out with her papers all signed. The setter’s long ears raised up, looking to him. “Now none of that. You keep that tail up little one! I’m certain you’ll find your way soon.”

He tried to find strength in that encouragement, but all he discovered was the breaking of his heart as the door down the way slammed closed. He turned away, padding back to his rags and flopping over.

This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“Puppy!”

…What?

He lifted his head, looking back.

Standing there, in a bright, pleated dress, was one of the smallest humans he’d ever seen. Even when he stood up and walked towards her, she didn’t tower over him like most humans did. She was his size.

Her eyes went wide, a huge grin spreading on her face. “Hi puppy!” She giggled and, when he came close enough, she didn’t even wait for his trick, instead sticking her hand through the bars. She gave him a few uncoordinated, slightly rough, pats to his head. “Good boy!”

“Ruby!” A shout echoed down the hall as a man sprinted into view. He was overly tall, with legs that were spindly like a bird’s. He snatched the girl up into his arms, lifting her well out of reach. “What did I say about running off like that, pipsqueak?”

The newcomer was almost immediately joined by two more.

“You found her? Oh thank gods!” The other male of the pack said. He was almost as tall as the first, but wider built all around. It was like looking at a Labrador standing next to a greyhound. Alongside him, being held by her hand, was another young girl with wild hair. It reminded him of Benji – the briard’s fur was always in his eyes too.

“Daddy, lookie!” It was hard to tell who Ruby was speaking to, as both the men looked down at him at the same time.

It was the bigger one’s whose eyes lit up. “Oh, what a precious little guy!” He knelt down, clicking his tongue, holding his fingers out. “Come here Yang, just like this.”

The other little girl, bold as can be, pressed her fist against the bars.

Right. Tail up. Time to act.

He bounded forward, wiggled low and stuck his head right through, lifting it upwards until he could feel their fingers against his snout.

Yang giggled immediately, rubbing her knuckles along his skull. “He’s funny!”

“He sure is. Be gentle now.”

“No. No way.” The bird man groaned. “We agreed on a dog. And we don’t even know how big this one is gonna get.”

The other man got that spot behind his ear. Oh yeah, that was the stuff. “He’s a corgi. They’re about the same size as a beagle, only chubbier.”

“Yeah well, he’s still a puppy. You really want to deal with pee puddles all over the house?” He asked as he set Ruby down.

The littlest one stomped her foot. “But I like this one!”

“But Rubes, they’re a lot of work and I’m sure there’s a lot of – now don’t give me those doe eyes kiddo. Tai, help me out here!”

Tai, in all his wisdom, turned to his pup and said, “Want to pet him Ruby?”

“Yeah!” She toddled on over, where he showed her how to do the really good scratches.

This was the life.

Leaving the girls to it, Tai rose to his full height, winding an arm around the bird man’s shoulders and tucking him against his side. “It’ll be fine Qrow.”

“You’re such a traitor.” Qrow grumbled.

“I know, I’m the worst.” He conceded, pressing his lips against his temple.

There was a long, slow sigh. “I guess then we’re getting-” He squinted at the paperwork that hung from his cage. “Puppy Two? What kind of name is that?”

“Maybe he goes number 2 a lot!” The older of the girls said.

Ruby’s nose wrinkled up. “Eeeew Yang!”

“You know,” Tai started thoughtfully, “If there’s a puppy one we could get him a friend and- mghpfa!”

Qrow cut him off by shoving his hand in his face. “Just go sign the paperwork already!”

Even when the door came open, and he was lifted up out of the cage, he wasn’t quite sure it was real until he was being taken out of the facility altogether and the big, wide world was in his eyes. Then it was speeding past his eyes, as the large machine he had been placed in moved at speeds he couldn’t comprehend.

“Oh wow! What was that? Oh, and that! Did you see that?” He asks the girls as he hopped between their laps, trying to look out the window.

“Yang, try to keep hold of him!” Tai called from the front seat of the contraption. “He’ll get hurt if he falls.”

“’Kaaay.”

Suddenly, a grip stronger than a choke chain was around his middle and he found himself firmly pinned down. He wiggled about, but there was no give.

Ruby pat his backside. “He’s got a funny butt.”

Well now, that was just rude.

There was a guffaw from Qrow. “Speaking of Mr. Funny Butt, s’pose we better name him.”

His ears perked. A name? Just like the other dogs had? He wouldn’t have to be known as mutt or pup or orphan anymore? He wagged his clipped tail excitedly.

“Oh, oh! I was thinking Cerberus.” Tai offered. “Doesn’t that sound intimidating?”

“Dad, that sounds dumb.” Yang was wiggling her fingers along his side, prompting him to roll over and – oh, tummy rubs really were everything the other dogs said they were.

“Ouch. Well little missy, you got a suggestion?”

“Uppercut!”

From his upside-down position, he saw the way the man looked back, then to the bird man sitting beside him.

Qrow glanced up from the lit-up square he was holding. “Don’t look at me! I’m not the one teaching her.”

“I wanna name him Strawberry!” Ruby cut in. She had grabbed hold of one of his paws and was squishing down the pads. It felt kind of weird.

Tai turned back to the window. “That’s a good one. We’ll think about that one sweetheart.”

Yang started to flap his ears around, which made it a little hard to hear Qrow when he spoke up again. “How about Dos?”

“Dos?” Tai echoed. “Like dose of medicine?”

He stuck out his tongue. Most of the choices had gone right over his head. But he did know what medicine was. The sickly dogs told him to beware if a human ever used that term, because that meant they were going to force feed him something gross.

“No. D-O-S. It’s an old Valian language. It means two.”

“Alright well, uncle Qrow has decided to be unhelpful, so keep ‘em coming girls.”

Similar to the way the anticipation would overwhelm the shelter whenever a human walked in, his new pack seemed to have the same habit of yapping over one another.

“Blackie!” Ruby called.

Then, Qrow. “Don’t like that one? How about Ni?”

Tai, snipping back, “We are not naming him knee!”

“At least call him roundhouse.” Yang’s voice was getting a little shrill.

“No! No martial arts moves!”

Ruby, again: “Palm strike!”

“Yeah sis!” The slap of the girls’ hands made him jump a little.

“Okay you two are banned too. We’re naming him Cerberus.”

“Noooo!”

Oh, he knew this cry! He pulled his head back, howling with them.

In the wake of the noise, silence followed, all eyes on him. He looked around, confused. Why had they stopped?

Then, all at once, the four of them started to laugh. He knew it was the human’s way of wagging their tails, since they lacked them and all. So, he wiggled and yipped, feeling more like he belonged then he ever thought possible.

Eventually, Qrow’s game won out. The name, his name, was chosen just as the contraption rolled to a stop.

“Hey, how about this one? Zwei.”

Tai drummed his fingers along the circle he was holding onto, looking up with a frown. “I hate how much I like that.”

“Hah! See, and you were making fun of me.” He twisted around, looking back at them. “What do you think rugrats? Is Zwei a keeper?”

“Yes!” Ruby chimed in.

Yang gave it more thought. “Zwei as in…” She smooshed his face, tapping their noses together, “Zwei’re you so cute?”

“…I regret everything.” Qrow looked like someone just stole his nest. Beside him, Tai doubled over, barking with more laughter.

From that day on, he was part of the pack.

Four months and eight days after his adoption, any lingering doubts he had left about his place among his newfound pack were completely abolished.

“Come on Zwei,” Ruby whispered to him as she opened up the back door, giggling behind her hand. He’d come to learn that was a sign that they were going out to play.

So he rushed around her feet and into the backyard, paws immediately sinking into the muddy trail that had been caused by a passing storm. It was still rather dreary overhead and he could scent the petrichor coming from the surrounding flora. His packmate ran past him, heading around the shed with the same sense of purpose she got when she was stealing treats out of the cupboard for the two of them. Were there some back there too?

“Wait for me!” He called, bounding after her in excitement. As he came around the back, he found what had captured Ruby’s attention so. Behind the shed was a lake-sized puddle, caused by the way the land dipped ever so slightly. She was already ankle deep in the water, gathering up globs of mud and setting it on the grass in a pile.

When he approached, she told him, “I’m making mud pies!”

Oh, that was a type of food! Tai had made it before. It had been something really sweet smelling that he wasn’t allowed to have.

He hears Ruby’s giggles when he practically sticks his nose right in, taking a deep breath. Just as quickly, he pulls away with a huff of displeasure. Definitely not for eating.

“Mud Pie Zwei!”

He perked up at his name, only to hunker down as the next handful of mud is deposited on his back. When Ruby dips her hands back in, he hurries away before she can load on more. He could feel the thick of it weighing down his fur and the wet of it sliding down his haunches. It wasn’t pleasant at all, so he shook himself to fling most of it off.

“That was gross!” He barks, which only seemed to increase her laughter.

Well. Two can play it that game.

He leaps with as much distance his little legs can provide, landing in the puddle with a big splash.

“Zwei!” Ruby shrieks, her dress now covered in wet spots and mud.

He wades towards her, taunting back, “What are you gonna do now?”

If he didn’t know better, he would have thought she truly understood him what with the way she responded by scooping her hands in the water and throwing it at him. In retaliation, he races around her, little waves kicking up in his wake. At the edge he pauses, lowering down on his forepaws until his chin brushes the water, waiting to see what his packmate would do next.

“Oh, it is ON!” She hollers, charging for him.

“Bring it!” He challenged right back, darting to the side and ducking around her when she tries to make a grab for him.

It begins a game of chase; one he’d already grown quite familiar with and one he was certain to lose. Ruby was bigger and faster than him, spirited like Skystorm had been. The rest of their pack didn’t appreciate that level of liveliness like he could. He was always happy to engage her, finding new, creative ways to escape her clutches before she ultimately snatched him up. Today he was trying to zig-zag the same way he saw that little black snake move in the garden; until his pack alpha crushed it into black smoke under his boot, that is.

It seemed his new trick was his best yet, because Ruby was having to scramble after him. “Hah, can’t catch me!” He called back at her, dashing for the tree line.

“Zwei don’t go in the – ah!”

He heard a yelp and the feet coming after him abruptly stopped.

Then, a more terrifying noise boomed over his senses, “Zwei! Come!”

He slid to a stop so fast, he somersaulted over his paws, landing on his back hard enough to make the air in his lungs whoosh out. He tilted his head back, looking at the upside-down view of his secondary alpha, his near permanent frown more pronounced than usual. He hadn’t even heard him approach! What kind of hunting skill was that?

“What were you thinking?” Qrow demanded of the young pup he had under his arm. “I’ve told you a thousand times not to go into the forest!”

Ruby wiggled valiantly in his grasp to no avail. “We weren’t gonna!”

“Ain’t gonna believe that when you already broke the ‘no going outside today’ rule.” He looked up, then pointed down aggressively. “Zwei, I said come!”

Obediently, he rolled over, slinking forward with a pitiful whine that sometimes got him out of trouble. “We were just having fun, honest.”

Qrow had never been quite as movable as his other alpha though, only scooping him up under his other arm and storming back for the house. “Gods you’re both a mess. I’m throwing you in the tub.”

“Nooooo!” He howled with Ruby.

Beyond a gripe about ‘thinking more before they go running into mud’, the alpha largely ignored them, hauling them upstairs. He paused only long enough to peek into one of the bedrooms. A little lump of blankets on one of the beds trembled every now and again and a loud hacking started up.

Some of the tension on his scary face finally melted, his voice a gentle timbre when he speaks, “How you doing firecracker?”

“M’okay.” She snuffled back from her hiding place.

“Okay. I got to get these escape artists into the bath – but holler if you need anything alright?”

“I will.”

Zwei’s ears dropped when her hacking started up anew. It had been just a small thing this morning, but now she sounded worse than some of the dogs back at the shelter when they got plagued by kennel cough.

He didn’t have long to dwell on it, as Qrow continued on his way, kicking the bathroom door shut with his foot before setting them on the bathroom rug. “Alright, clothes off.”

Rather than listen, Ruby crossed her arms and sat down stubbornly. He walked the few steps it took to join her, plopping down as well.

Their alpha sighed, stepping over them to get the water started. “Kiddo, work with me here.”

“No!”

An agitated hand ruffled through his hair until it seemed more like a puffed-up cat tail. “How about for a scoop of strawberry ice cream?” Rather than answer, she held up two fingers. “…Who taught you this level of swindling? Fine! Two it is. But no telling your dad.”

“Deal!” She hopped up, throwing off one of her layers and dropping it with a wet plop on the ground.

“Hey wait!” Zwei stomped over to Qrow. “What do I get?”

Apparently it was to be picked up and dropped into the tub. The water was just enough to cover his paws. He scrambled for the edge of the basin, too small to actually make it over. He wasn’t left alone for long, Ruby eventually climbing in beside him, all her normal, colorful furs gone. The water eventually rose up until it touched his chin, and he had to paddle a bit to get around – not that there was anywhere to go.

Zwei didn’t really like baths. The water was warm, but the ground underneath his feet was hard to stand on, causing him to slip and sometimes water would go up his nose when that happened. Then there was the shampoo. It was some really awful smelling, awful tasting stuff that would get lathered into his fur. The stink of it would overwhelm him, his own, better scent being cancelled out by the gunk. Even when he rolled it out into the grass, it persistently clung to him for days.

So no, he didn’t like baths. He especially didn’t like Qrow’s version. He was too rough. His fingers would score through his fur like he was trying to rip it away and he’d push the undercoat in all the wrong ways until it left everything kind of hurting. Today was no different.

“Ow, ow, ow!” He wailed. “That’s too hard!”

The scrubbing, if possible, got worse. “Quit bellyaching, we’re almost done.”

“He’s kind of a baby, isn’t he?” Ruby asked from her side of the tub, trying to turn her bubbly head fur into sticks just like a porcupine.

“I am not a baby!”

“Oi, don’t jump Zwei!”

“You know, this is a lot of racket for a bath.” The final voice was new, but familiar.

His tail started to wag immediately, slipping out of Qrow’s grip so he could hop and get a look at his other alpha. “Welcome home! I missed you!”

“Hi daddy!” Ruby greeted.

“Hey there.” Tai said, stepping into the bathroom. He peered down at his mate inquisitively. “Need help?”

“Please.”

The response was a jovial laugh as the man rolled up his sleeves and settled down beside him. Zwei felt a little jealous when he attended to Ruby. “Were you causing trouble for your uncle?”

“Nuh-huh. I behaved!”

Qrow snorted, resuming his torture. Ignoring Zwei’s calls of displeasure, he instead spoke to his mate. “You find the medicine?”

“Yeah. Gave it to Yang before coming in here. Tip your head back honey.” Tai poured a small pitcher full of water down Ruby’s head, using his hand as a shield to keep any from falling into her eyes. As he scooped up more of the bathwater to douse her again, he continued, “We’ll have to keep an eye on her fever. We might want to let her sleep with us tonight.”

“No fair! I wanna sleep with you guys!”

As his chin was lifted up, Zwei huffed out, “Me too.”

“Tell you what Rubes,” Qrow said as he took the pitcher that was handed over to him, going through the motions with him now. “Why don’t you and I have a little sleepover of our own? We can set up a fort in the guest room and everything.”

Her face lit up. “Really?”

Zwei’s ears fell. Of course the alpha would do that – Ruby was so obviously his favorite pup. Looks like he was stuck downstairs. Alone. Again.

“Yeah. We can even bring the little scamp here.”

He blinked back as Qrow looked down at him. Wait… did he mean…?

“Just don’t have an accident and make me regret it, you got that mutt?”

He did. He did! His whole body practically vibrated with the force of his excitement, jumping out of his grasp so he could lick his hand. “I’ll be good, I promise!”

Qrow drew his hand back immediately. “Ack gross!”

Tai’s boisterous laughter echoed, before he reached out for his pup. “Come on Ruby. You’re done.” He lifted her up and out of the tub, wrapping her up in a towel and walking out of the room. “You want me to help you pick out an outfit?”

“I want my combat skirt!”

“Alright, alright…”

It wasn’t long before Zwei followed her out, draped in a towel of his own and brought downstairs. A fire was made in the hearth to combat the chill settling in as the day waned on. Eventually, that’s where he found himself stretched out in front of for his midday-play nap, stirring only when his pack moved about.

Nothing managed to rouse him completely until a commotion started up in the next room and he awoke to a day much darker than before. Ruby and Yang were on the couch, the latter curled up in a miserable ball as they watched their colorful moving pictures on the television.

He got to his feet, stretching out with a long yawn, before he trotted over to the kitchen. His alpha pair were both there. Qrow was sitting on the counter by the sink, sipping an amber liquid in a short glass and watching his mate as he fussed about the stove. Whatever Tai was making smelt absolutely delicious, like chicken and rice kibble but more refined and fresher. Mouth watering, Zwei slunk underneath the dining table chairs and emerged just into their sight. He sat himself down at the edge of the rug, making sure not even a claw touched into the ‘Never Ever Cross While Alpha is Cooking’ section of the kitchen.

“Can I have some?” He beseeched lowly.

Tai looked over his shoulder, smiling brightly. “There’s my good boy! Up!”

He sat up on his hind legs, snatching the morsel that was tossed to him in his jaws. He savored the scrap of chicken slowly, licking his chops once he’d swallowed it.

“Good catch!” His alpha praised him, before turning back to his work. When Qrow started to shift off the counter, he pointed a knife towards him. “And where are you going? We weren’t done.”

It seemed his mate thought they were, with the way he scoffed. “Look, if you want to ground her so bad, you do it.”

Zwei had come to realize that breeding pairs were very strange. Or perhaps maybe just his were; he certainly couldn’t make heads or tails of their lack of pheromonal compatibility. More critically was in how little they ran the pack like a unit. It made for a rather confusing predicament when Tai would let him nestle on the armchair – but Qrow would absolutely not tolerate it. He had to wonder if his other packmates ever felt the same.

Tai’s sigh was tinged with a rarely heard frustration. “It’s not about the punishment, it’s about who’s giving it. I can’t keep punishing the girls for rules you lay down.”

“Why not? You’re the dad here.”

“You really think Ruby hasn’t figured out that when you’re the only one home, she can get away with whatever she wants?”

Qrow snorted, downing his drink and setting it on the counter he’d vacated. “She’s six Tai. Not exactly in her prime to be a master manipulator.”

“No.” He set down the knife, turning to him fully. “But that doesn’t mean she’s dumb.”

Coming to the conclusion no other treats were coming his way, Zwei laid down on the rug, head between his paws, mostly tuning them out as they carried on. Maybe he should just take his post-nap nap. He was just starting to drift, when one particularly loud shout had him jolting out of his daze.

“Oh so I just don’t care, is that it?”

“I didn’t say that! And keep your voice down.” Tai shushed. “I know you love them, Qrow. I just… don’t understand why you want to turn them against me.”

His mate jerked back a bit, as if struck. “What in Gods’ name are you talking about?”

“Can you really not see where this will eventually go?”

With a long exhale, Zwei settled again, listening to them with only half an ear. This wasn’t the first growling match they’d partaken in, but he wasn’t worried by it. For the outcome was as certain as the sun would be rising tomorrow.

“I don’t see what the big deal is.” Right on time, Qrow’s tone shifted as did his body. Away. Vulnerable. If he had a tail, he was positive it would be tucked between his legs. “It’s not like you have anything to lose.”

Tai tilted his head, as if trying to figure if the words truly came from him. “Okay, what are you talking about?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.” He tried to retreat, only to be stalled by a hand suddenly on his shoulder.

“No. Come on don’t-” A sigh. “Do you really think the girls will just cast you aside just ‘cause you have to be tough on them sometimes?”

The answer was so soft, even Zwei had to strain to hear. “Been thrown out for less.”

“Oh Qrow.” Before the thinner man knew it, Tai was pulling him into what Zwei could only describe as a ‘standing snuggle’. It looked warm and inviting. “There is nothing in this world you could do to make us stop loving you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that.” And then Tai said something Zwei would never forget: “Family isn’t a competition where the prize is love. Love just is. You don’t earn it by performing your best, you’re just given it from being here and caring about us just as much as we care about you.”

There were a few more things that were spoken, but the fight was over for sure when the mating pair started licking each other’s mouths. Overzealously, as usual.

But the call for peace, joyful as it was, did not impact Zwei as much as his pack leader’s words. For they washed over him with a great ferocity, reaching in and cleansing him from the inside where Hunter’s dark words still resided in his heart. The fear that had footed there that he would not be wanted finally came loose, strand by strand, until it was hanging by nothing but a thread.

It wasn’t until that night, with Ruby’s head nestled into his back and his nose tucked against the welcome warmth of Qrow’s side, that the final root broke as the words finally hit home.

There may be a lot he lacked, but no amount of skills compared to the simple act of just being there. The one thing he knew with absolute certainty was that love was something he could give this family without end.

So no, he wasn’t fierce like a Doberman. Or noble like a shepherd. Or even charming like a poodle.

He was just Zwei. And that’s all he needed to be.

#zwei #taiyang xiao long #qrow branwen #taiqrow #taiqrowweek #ruby rose #yang xiao long #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale #...These tags sure are odd this time around xD

13 notes · View notes

bugaboosandbees · 6 years ago

Text

Reine Ruse AU

Welp, hello all. I’ve been a wallflower in the Miraculous fandom since it got started. I haven’t really written fanfic or published AUs or head-cannons online since middle school, but things this season have finally pushed me to the point where I guess I’m writing again. I’ve been so inspired by @imthepunchlord , @apex-primus, @gale-of-the-nomads , @zoe-oneesama, @lenoreofraven and @miraculouscontent that I guess I’m here with my own post-chameleon salt au.

Buckle up kiddos, here we go.

So I’m calling this the Reine Ruse AU. I’ve started writing a fic, but finals are coming up so I might not really get to sink my teeth into it for another month or so. Basically, here’s what goes down.

-During Chameleon, Chloe makes it clear that she doesn’t trust Lila and attempts to call the class out for being hypocritical. It obviously doesn’t go well, but Marinette hears and it surprises her.

-Chameleon follows pretty closely after the Queen’s Battle arc and Heroes’ Day, so perhaps Chloe has been noticeably trying to be a better person and Marinette/Ladybug has been keeping an eye on this and can see her trying.

-A few weeks have passed since Chameleon and Lila keeps escalating. The seats never got switched back, so Marinette is still stuck alone in the back of the room. She’s having a miserable time and she really needs to talk to somebody about things. She doesn’t want to bother her parents because they’re really busy with things in the bakery and she doesn’t want to trouble them. She obviously can’t talk to Alya about things right now as she’s still firmly on Lila’s side. Tikki is wonderful support, but she’s a tiny god and despite her many years of life and experiences she just doesn’t really understand. Frozer happened pretty recently in this AU, maybe even after Heroes’ Day. In any case, Frozer and Glaciator are pretty fresh in Marinette’s mind and she really loves her partner as a friend, but she’s getting a bit concerned about looking to Chat for support as Ladybug. She really doesn’t want to believe it, but some of his past behavior is making her question if he’ll think she owes him something if she relies on him like that.

-She’s not getting enough sleep and is spending a lot of time running over the rooftops with no particular destination in mind as Ladybug, just trying to forget what’s going on. She’d never admit it, but sometimes Tikki’s reassurances can get to be too much when it’s plain that no one else is there for her and she needs support but not that kind and she just wants to be alone.

-One night her feet bring her to the rooftop of the Grand Paris Hotel. It’s raining and she’s been running around for hours and she’s crying and tired and she doesn’t know why she’s here, but she starts thinking of how much better Chloe has gotten and even if she doesn’t like Marinette, she adores Ladybug and goddammit she just really needs somebody right now.

-Before she can second guess herself, she’s knocked on Chloe’s balcony door.

*snippet from what is already written*

The last thing Chloe Bourgeois would have expected when she woke up that morning was for Ladybug to knock on her balcony door in the middle of the night. Nonetheless, she was nothing if not adaptable, especially for her idol. She adjusted her silk pajama robe and ran for the door to let Ladybug in.

“Ladybug! It’s so good to see you? Is there an akuma? Do you need my help? Did you stop by to say hello to your favorite civili---” Chloe cut herself off. The darkness had prevented her from noticing it, but the light that spilled out of her suite made it abundantly clear -- Ladybug was crying.

“Can I come in?” the heroine’s voice was unusually small.

Wordlessly Chole moved out of the way. Ladybug took short, sad steps past her, pausing listlessly when she reached the middle of the room.

Oh god, what was she supposed to do?! As far as Chloe knew, there was no established protocol for dealing with crying superheroes bursting in on one in one’s pajamas. And that didn’t even touch the fact that Ladybug’s eyes were so much more blue this close and Chloe was in her very short and very thin pajamas. She shook her head. It was apparent that Ladybug needed her, and if Queen Bee couldn’t help, then Chloe Bourgeois would have to do. She hesitantly walked over to Ladybug.

“Do you want to talk about it?” The words were uncharacteristically quiet and soft. Chloe rifled through her memories, desperately trying to remember how Adrien’s mother had consoled her after so many tears in her childhood. It hurt, to think back to then, but if anyone was worth it, Ladybug was. Ladybug believed in her when no one else did and she’d never admit just how good that made her feel inside.

Ladybug turned towards her, tears still leaking out of her large, bluebell eyes. Without warning, she shot forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Chloe, breaking into incoherent sobs. It felt like forever before the spotted heroine stopped shaking like a leaf, tears drying to sniffles. Chloe awkwardly kept rubbing circles onto her back the whole time, hugging Ladybug as best as she could even as her mind whirled at a hundred miles an hour. What in the ever-loving-fuck was happening? Who could have made Ladybug so upset? It was a good thing she didn’t have her miraculous or she’d venom whatever bastard did this to her… Then again, she could probably still claw someone’s eyes out outside of the suit as well… No, Ladybug needed a shoulder to cry on, not a homicidal sometimes-superhero on the warpath.

Chloe took a deep breath in and maneuvered them so that they were sitting down on one of the plush sofas in her suite. She moved to extricate herself from Ladybug and dammit if the way she tried to cling to Chloe with a small whimper didn’t give her feelings.

She awkwardly cleared her throat. “You need to stay hydrated. You’ve been -- I’m going to call for some refreshments. Did you want anything in particular?”

Ladybug wiped her eyes on the back of a spotted glove. “Cookies, if you have them,” she said quietly. “I’ve been out for hours, I need to recharge.”

Chloe nodded, not quite thinking of the magnitude of that statement and picked up the phone at the side of her bed. She didn’t even wait for whoever was on the other end to say hello. “Yes, I need a mug of warm milk and a plate of cookies as quickly as possible. Understood?” She hung up as soon as it was clear that someone had heard her and went back over to Ladybug. “It should be here in a few minutes.” Ladybug nodded silently.

Chloe sighed and braced herself. Clearly, Ladybug needed someone to talk to and for some unknown reason, she’d come to her of all people, so she was going to have to do her best. This really wasn’t her strong suit. “Alright,” she said briskly, breaking the silence. “As many lovely qualities as I have, I have to admit that I’m wondering why you came here tonight. Clearly, you’re upset. Why not talk to that mangy alley cat about it? Or a friend from the other side of the mask? As much as it pains me to admit, I haven’t been… the best person in the past. It seems like there’s someone out there who could give you a hell of a lot better advice about whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

Chloe didn’t miss the way Ladybug flinched, first when she brought up Chat Noir and then civilian friends. Oh, something was definitely going on and somebody was sooooo going to pay for this.

Ladybug twisted her hands together. “I…. I can’t,” she said. “I… I don’t think I have any friends outside of the suit anymore.”

“What happened?” Chloe questioned, trying to make her voice as quiet and reassuring as possible. It felt like squeezing into a too-small shirt, but it must have worked because Ladybug continued.

“They betrayed me.” Her voice broke. “Rena Rouge, Carapace, I knew them both as civilians… I trusted them with the miraculous because they were my best friends. But they took the word of someone they barely know over me and they hate me.” She paused. “They were all I had. Before this year, I didn’t have any friends at all. They were my very first.” A watery smile broke over her face and vanished. “I tried so hard to be a good friend -- I didn’t want them to leave me alone again. I was just trying to protect them from being deceived and manipulated… Oh god, it hurts. It hurts so much.”

Fat tears rolled down Ladybug’s cheeks and Chloe’s heart about broke in her chest. If there was one thing that she understood so very well… She scooted closer to Ladybug and wrapped the heroine in as tight a hug as she could manage. She could feel as the shoulder of her robe was dampened by Ladybug’s tears.

-Needless to say, Chloe really comes through as a friend and confidant to Ladybug that night. Marinette doesn’t really plan to go back, but it felt so good to be listened to and seen for the first time in a long time that she just keeps dropping by Chloe’s balcony.

-Ladybug and Chloe get closer and Marinette is able to hold herself together better now that she has someone. Not that anybody really notices because she’s a bit of a social pariah, but she’s much nicer to Chloe at school.

-I can’t decide if this AU is gonna be romantic or platonic Chloenette, but maybe Chloe has been a (somewhat repressed) gay mess for Ladybug the whole time and shit her school nemesis is also kind of cute now that they’re not constantly fighting oh no. Alternatively, we get some A+ female friendships.

-Either way, Ladybug is a pretty much nightly visitor to Chloe’s house at this point. They paint each other's nails and watch TV and there is some altogether wholesome interaction. Chloe is proud that she’s managed to bring Ladybug’s smiles back and starts to gain confidence in what she’s able to do to make things better by herself, on her own power and without a miraculous.

-Things are kind of improving. Lila is still being awful, but it’s much easier for Marinette to deal with her now. Ladybug and Chat Noir’s partnership is still kind of strained with his flirting, but they’ve been managing. Ladybug has kind of just been ignoring the problem and Chat Noir because she doesn’t know how to handle it and she really does care about him and doesn’t enjoy breaking his heart. She just needs to find some way of communicating to him that she feels like he’s disrespecting her, but the akumas have been getting more intense and she can’t risk another repeat of Frozer if she confronts him, so she doesn’t really know what to do.

-Eventually, the Lucky Charm says that they need back up. The fox makes the most sense to take, but Marinette just can’t trust Alya anymore. There’s really only one person that comes to mind.

-“Chloe Bourgeois, this the miraculous of the fox. It grants the power of illusions. You will use it for the greater good and return it to me when the battle is finished.”

-And finally, we get to the point of this entire rambling mess as fox!Chloe, or Reine Ruse appears. I think that her suit would use brown as an accent rather than black like Rena Rouge’s so it could incorporate some gold piping as sort of a subtle shout out to her past as Queen Bee. Chloe is a sleek, sleek fox. I also totally have an image of her having like 9 real fox tails that spread out behind her like the skirt of a ball gown or something (she is both regal and dramatic as fuck). She can also move them and as she becomes more involved with the miraculous squad she likes to wrap them around Ladybug especially when she gets cold in the winter.

-Reine Ruse absolutely kills it as a hero her first time out. Chat’s like “wow, it’s like you’ve done this before!” Chloe, who has listened to how much grief and indecision that this cat is causing Ladybug is 100% not happy with Chat Noir and pretty much straight up ignores him. If she speaks, she’s probably passive-aggressively sassing him.

-Hawkmoth is sending out progressively more akumas and they’re stronger too. It gets to the point where the lucky charm calls for help during every fight and it’s getting really hard to escape to get the backup Miraculous. Marinette has a talk with Master Fu about Chloe and the fox, sticking up for Chloe and how much she’s grown and making a case for her to be a permanent member of the team. It takes a bit of convincing, but Master Fu eventually comes around.

-“Chloe, you can’t be Queen Bee anymore… But you’ve come such a long way since we met and I would be honored if you would fight by my side as Reine Ruse, permanently.”

-Chat is grateful for the help but has no idea what he’s apparently done to get on the new heroine’s shit list. The first time they patrol alone together, she gives him a thorough verbal lashing about how he’s been treating Ladybug and doesn’t leave until she’s sure he understands.

-Adrien begins to rethink his life choices. Plagg attempts to help as best he can.

-Maybe Chloe rescues Marinette as Reine Ruse or she decides to try to get closer to her in her superhero form because she thinks that she’s totally blown it in her civilian form. Marinette who knows what is going on is just so happy and proud of her best friend/maybe-future-girlfriend.

-Give me a Chloenette love square pls

-Obviously, Alya isn’t happy when there’s a new fox hero. She probably gets akumatized over it, let’s be honest. At least it’s a better reason than getting mad because some middle schooler says he could outrun a panther.

-Lila is probably able to manipulate this situation somehow. She might not even know she’s doing it. Alya asks why Ladybug didn’t pick Rena Rouge and Lila says that Ladybug was just being a bitch or something, idk.

-Chloe thinks it's weird that Alya is so up in arms about this. Maybe this is the start of her figuring Marinette out.

Gosh, this post got so freaking long. I might add more later if anyone is actually interested, lol. I was thinking that the miracusquad in this AU would eventually include bee!Kagami and turtle!Luka as I don’t think Alya or Nino would reach the point that Marinette could trust them with miraculouses again. She might forgive them, but trust is a fragile thing.

Thank you all for listening to my ranting. I hope that this was somewhat coherent. I’m sorry that it’s so long and so rambling, but I really haven’t been involved in fandom for a while. I’ll try my best and I hope to improve in the future!

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #chloe bourgeois #fox!chloe #ml salt #post chameleon #reine ruse #i can't believe I'm writing fic again oh god #please someone read this #lol #ml au #miraculous ladybug au #chloenette

1K notes · View notes

courage-a-word-of-justice · 4 years ago

Text

HGPC 17 - 21 | Koi to Producer 2 - 6 | Appare 5 - 8 | Fugou Keiji 4 - 6

...only just realised I was missing some tags. They should be there now or soon.

HGPC 17

Why do I get the feeling the Sawaizumi family will be held hostage one day…? (Maybe I’m just being negative?)

The episode title mentions Chiyu by name, so I wonder why the translation didn’t…

Customer service! You can’t get away from it, even in COVID times…! (Impressive!)

Hmm…you can actually read part of the booking for the Smiths in the book if you know the kanji.

I thought the Smiths would speak in English, but they actually speak in fluent Japanese if the word “susume” was any indication.

Ah, Sukoyaka sweet buns! (from the other episode about the festival)

HGPC 18

Don’t burn down your house with scented candles, kids!

Also remember to use your knees when lifting heavy boxes! (<- says a charity store volunteer, who does this stuff on the regular)

These days the mascots usually have a human form. I wonder if this is implying that particular direction…? (I woke up today and was craving a certain oneshot I’d read during my scanlation days…if it is, it would fill that niche nicely.)

I wonder if the kids will recognise this Ashita no Joe parody…?

HGPC 19

“…since you were young?”

Oh! Element of Wind again!

Koi to Producer 2

This almost feels like Victor is assigning a school project to Protag-chan…it’s a bit sad, really.

It’s nice they let Protag-chan have a personality.

It’s fine if you can’t read the katakana, but Gavin’s name is Haku in Japanese, so it throws out the immersion somewhat…also, I know I shouldn’t be complaining – I’m the target audience here – but do these guys look kinda similar or what…? (partially kidding)

High school sweethearts, huh? “Childhood friends” is my favourite angle of a romantic relationship, but it gets so overused by harems it comes around to being boring…!

I-Is this Stand My Heroes…?! (LOL…?)

Can we not with 1st person cam…?

As cute and dorky as this stuff gets…how does Gavin never get found?! Does nobody ever look up in this city?!? (I thought Evolvers were meant to be a secret…?)

GPS tracker? That’s no better than large corporations using your location data…Isn’t that creepy…?

Hold on, when did she get his phone number? You would assume it was before this entire chase after the boy happened, but still…?

LOL, the English on the board.

This anime is gonna cause me some frustration, but it gives the good stuff in roughly equal measure. It seems to omit the fact you interact via phone with your bois for intimacy (in the game).

Koi to Producer 3

LOL, that’s so clearly Gavin…

By googling, you find out Uptown and Queens are in New York.

Ohmygosh! Did the creators know I love the trope where only people with superpowers can move in certain circumstances?!

Uh…his name is Kira in Japanese? Did someone read the katakana wrong?

Pictured: Depressed bishonen eating bad pudding. (…That joke sounds better in my head. I forgot what meme I was meant to be parodying there, but I had a meme in mind.)

Lemme guess…this man (I dunno if it’s one of the previous bishies with an identical face or a new one) is looking for MC-chan. *sigh* Update: Yep, just Victor again. To be honest, I don’t like anyone who calls harsh words “their sign of love” – love should be honest and upfront. That’s how it becomes heartmelting.

Koi to Producer 4

Okay, in order, it seems to be hexadecimals, Javascript (you can tell from the “const”), some kind of profiles which are apparently for human lab rats (which seem to have some kind of nonsense filler text), a DNA model and DNA bases (ACGT).

The text on the screen says something along the lines of this being an official broadcast of this man’s arrest and this man was a genetic researcher. Obviously, if I wanted to put more attention into what it meant, I would, but I won’t sweat the details this time (because it doesn’t seem to impact the plot).

The guy’s name is Minor because minor key (geddit?)…that’s my guess.

I started playing the game due to this anime, if you didn’t know, and I unlocked an expert in ch. 2. I thought he was Minor, but turns out his name is Spine (an older man).

The diary, true to form, contains details about either one case or several cases, two involving children. The bottom of the 1st page says “if it’s fake, I’ll laugh”.

Hey, I once told Crunchyroll I wanted an anime about hacking (so is this a dream come true? I reveal all in the next sentence!). Hackers don’t congregate like this…they’d be too conspicuous, even with the secret hideout!

The code in the top left appears to be…C? I think? (Note they declare “unsigned int”.)

Kiro sometimes reminds me of Masayoshi (SamFlam)…it puts a derpy smile on my face.

*blah blah blah I’m Key* - Wuh…? F*** you, Kiro!!! (There is such a thing as piling too much cool stuff on to a character, y’know – I’m guilty of it in my own writing.)

3684 isn’t a very safe password (says someone who once aspired to be in cybersecurity).

What bugs me is that Simon is a perfectly fine name…it’s just a bit boring. Kiro/Kira I get (a bit), but Lucien/Simon…? *shrugs*

Ohh! Based MAPPA! Thank you for making this adaption look great!

Koi to Producer 5

Oh, I got an SR in the game recently and it has a line like, “Only a fool stays up all night to do others’ work. Victor talks like that a lot…

The sign so obviously says “Renka”, meaning “love flower”. “Loveland” really is a step down from that…

Where’s Gavin’s guest badge…?

“Happiness Noodle Store”…?

“…the end of our first year…”

If this weren’t a Chinese work by origin (or Japanese work by translation), I’m sure Protag-chan would have gone after Gavin, despite being told the contrary.

Kanya = Minor. I’ll take a note of that.

One of the books behind Minor says “Gale Start”…hmm…

That GPS tracker is still unintentionally creepy, IMHO.

Koi to Producer 6

…oh. (dejected) Probably a beach episode or something.

What the actual heck was going on with Lucien…? It’s like he was having a tiny stroke there…

Lucien’s power is listed as “???” in the game. I thought he was an aura-reader when he said “show me your colour”, but that shield thing he did means he might just have various psychic powers…? *shrugs* We’ll find out eventually.

Running in heels is hard…

LOL, that’s so clearly recreating a CG from one of the cards.

This is the 2nd time this has gone pseudo-isekai. As much as I like to joke about it…I fully expect someone to be sent to another world at this point.

I couldn’t possibly see Victor on any kind of game show, come to think of it.

Appare 5

This guy’s middle name is “Rich”! That’s silly!

A boombox from the 19th century…makes sense, somehow.

I only just (?) realised Al has a tiny tie on his usual outfit.

Back to the beginning already…just start!

Appare 6

…I just realised Appare mouths “I got it!” in the OP.

Al Lion (sic…?)

Isn’t Sofia in that train…? Update: She might have been, she might not. Hard to tell when they don’t confirm.

This series seriously could’ve done with a dub…Even with weird hokey Hetalia accents, it would be good stuff.

These bunches of people at designated points…reminds me of the book I was reading while in Japan. The Long Walk by Stephen King (part of a compilation). It still gives me shivers down my spine when I remember it.

This “leave in the middle of the night” thing reminds me of the Amazing Race.

“Valley of Despair” is made-up, but Death Valley exists. It’s one of the hottest places on earth, hence the name.

LOL, Kosame scores himself one (1) prarie dog and two (2) Hototos.

I thought Appare was being inconsiderate at first…but he’s being considerate, in his own way.

Oh! I didn’t realise, but Saito Soma is Al.

Appare 7

“It’s not one plus one, but one times one!” – LOL.

Hybrid engine? In the 1900s? Hmm…

LOL, I think Al just did a hadouken.

This stuff’s like an animated Galaxy Brain meme! It’s amazing!

I managed to successfully predict – without watching ahead – Appare would catch himself with his traps.

Kosame with his hair down…is rare. Not exactly attractive because we have to care about the racers rather than lust after them (and the artstyle actually prevents me from doing so, because it’s deliberately quite cartoony), but it’s rare.

Appare is surprisingly childish…that’s what makes him more than a Sheldon Cooper, I think.

The spelling of the place is actually “Ely”, if Google-sensei is any indication. C’mon, subbers! You’re American (most likely)! Can’t you put in the legwork (or the Google-fu) to discover what place in Nevada this is?!

Subbers make characters say “shit” a lot in this show, hmm? (contemplative)

Now this evil guy here *points to screen*…that’s hair I like.

Appare 8

I just love this OP…don’t you?

I like how the steam/gas boat/car has Chinese numerals on its dial.

Kosame means “small rain”, so “heavy rain” is obviously to contrast that.

The Hototo joke never gets old.

I thought I just saw someone leave the saloon…

Nice hair + terrible face = bad equation.

I can almost imagine the wee-oo-wee-oo-ooooooo…wah-wah-wahhh…(You know the one sound snippet, right? The one theme from The Good, the Bad and the Ugly - or whatever movie it is – that maybe involves a tumbleweed rolling across the screen, and then a huge shootout? If you don’t know it, play a sample on this Wikipedia page!) playing in the background.

It’s convenient the prarie dog didn’t appear when Hototo (old) had his revenge spree.

I noticed there’s a bit of a mark under Kosame’s left eye…it suggests that he’s been crying (or maybe it shows tiredness from the race…?), but it’s not that noticeable.

So that’s the real Gil…and tose were his henchmen that threatened to hang everyone bar Kosame. Got it.

(notes to self) So, for charting a course with Appare Ranman!, it’s Los Angeles -> Death Valley -> Ely -> Denver -> ??? -> New York. Got it.

Fugou Keiji 4

“Daisuke-sama” isn’t “Lord Daisuke”, it would be “Sir Daisuke”, I think…but “lord” has a proper translation in Japanese.

The truck has a Shinagawa licence plate. Anime really does like Shinagawa, huh? (Based on ID: INVADED and this.)

I think it’ll be interesting to see Kambe handle this without HEUSC.

The board for Sanchome (which is equivalent to a suburb…or a county, I guess?) has posters saying stuff like “take your dog poop home” and “let’s protect the environment!” (technically, it says “let’s protect the region/area!”, but that doesn’t translate right. There’s even a flea market. Still, those posters don’t have any big hints…not that I know of so far.

I kind of forgot that dude was the gardener for Kambe’s house…er, mansion.

I noticed a poster in the kouban says haru (spring) on it. That’s probably the same one that Haru’s name is signified by, assuming that’s not in combo with another character or few.

Oh great…the sister is an overbearing one.

Ahh…he doesn’t like natto. So that’s the problem. Daisuke is childish (like Appare)…Note I don’t like natto either, but I wouldn’t run away from home (or similar) because I was fed natto.

I noticed Kambe uses shinseki (which doesn’t refer to close family). “Relative” is a correct translation of that word, I just wanted to check that word was the right one for the context.

There’s a green tea bottle by the sink…I don’t think I’d mistake that shade of green for anything else.

LOL, I didn’t think we’d actually get to see Kambe with his hair “down”, so to speak. It’s…an interesting look, for sure.

Oh my gosh! It cost him (Haru) $15!!! (LOL, cheapskate…says the cheapskate…*suddenly droops and stops laughing*) Update: Sorry about the sudden downer there. I was having what the kids these days call a “woke moment”…at least, I think that’s how they use that term.

…I’d watch that crime drama. It’s funny.

Just realised Kato has an older model of phone than Kambe does.

This episode was kinda like a Tokyo Sonata kind of thing, huh? The sensational in the middle of the not-so-sensational…”sensational” for this show, anyway.

Those kids look like the ones from Erased.

*lightbulb goes off in brain* What if the dog went to Kambe’s…?

Can Suzue actually hear HEUSC while Kambe is using it…? $2.46 though…that is cheap, in comparison to the ham.

This was the cheapest episode so far (about $550)…probably because it was an insight into Kato’s life, more than Kambe’s.

Fugou Keiji 5

The flag seems to be based on Cameroon’s (which is in Africa, not America) and the “Arita Kinen” seems to refer to Arima Kinen, meaning this episode is set around Christmas-ish. Credit goes to Kambe Zaibatsu on this show.

I-It’s a Humvee!

Polyadoll (sic)…?

The Poliador guy speaks perfect Japanese…(?)

The star! It’s a key thingy!

I thought Kamei was the 1st Division dude with the reddish hair. Turns out it was the blonde…? Update: Redhead is Hoshino.

Ummmmmm…he was reading porn…? Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh…okayyyyyyyyyyyyy…

…oh, the costs for Kambe’s tuxedo are on there. So’s the cost for repairing the bike Suzue rode.

Fugou Keiji 6

I never knew there were so many money proverbs to be used as episode titles…

What is Kambe doing with his hands…? He’s not even using the computer.

Imura seems to use a Windows 10 with Cortana on the taskbar.

HGPC 20

What’s with all the Naruto running this episode…?

HGPC 21

(no notes, sorry!)

#simulcast commentary #healin' good precure #fugou keiji: balance unlimited #millionaire detective #Koi to Producer: EVOL x LOVE #mr love queen's choice #Appare Ranman!#Chesarka watches AR #Chesarka watches HGPC #Chesarka watches Koi to Producer #Chesarka watches Fugou Keiji

3 notes · View notes

elsadidherbestokay · 5 years ago

Text

Okay so I haven’t actually written fanfiction (I do write poems still) since I was 13 and wrote some truly awful stories, all of which I abandoned two chapters in but Frozen is really calling me so I guess now I’m writing fanfics. Any feedback is welcomed, especially constructive criticism but uhhh tbh I’m nervous posting it because I’m not a very good writer and I use commas like an idiot but anyway I hope some of yall enjoy it?

One shot, 2k.

Gale won’t carry a note to the forest. Anna knows he’s probably just busy, so why is it so hard to breathe all of the sudden? Luckily Elsa is never too far away.

Gale always came when she called. Always. Even the times early on when she woke up in the dead of night and just needed to hear from Elsa to ease that little spark of fear deep within. It took only a few midnight notes for her terror to ease, knowing Gale would have a hastily scrawled note reassuring her of Elsa’s love and making plans to visit the next day within her hands in a half hour. Sure, the little wind spirit would sometimes take a moment or two to respond but never long enough for Anna to call more than twice and usually even that was overkill, the playful breeze blowing in the exact second Anna started to call a second time. She swore Gale waited for her to call again on purpose, just to take joy in interrupting her.

But certainly Gale had never made her call four times, as was happening now. Anna didn’t, strictly speaking, need Gale. Anna had the kingdom well in hand and notes she actually needed to send were rare. There were many times she felt as though she needed advice though, and Elsa’s letters were always so helpful. She still ended up venting her frustrations over fireside hot chocolate, their little ritual which was a more common these days since Kristoff had implemented a strict “no trade negotiations complaints during family game night” rule after charades devolved into a debate about the best ways to ensure favorable trades. One of the little girls in town had tugged on her sleeve as she passed by, breaking about seven kinds of etiquette in favor of asking her to give Elsa a photograph of her using a real sextant with snowflakes etched into it. It was incredibly cute and exactly something that Elsa would love to see and Anna made sure to tell the apologetic mother that it was quite alright, little children just get so excited and she really wasn’t offended about the breach of protocol and she’d be sure to send it right over.

But Gale just wouldn’t come, no matter how long she stood on her balcony and sang. What if it was something serious? What if there was an emergency and Gale refused to come? After all, the wind spirit couldn’t have known that Anna didn’t actually need help. Despite her best efforts the panic rose in Anna’s throat, binding tight in a way that didn’t particularly care what her rational mind thought, or that Anna had already sent four notes in the past twelve hours, their letters a constant back and forth that mostly consisted of “look how cute this bird I saw is” with a drawing, or “here’s a fact from Olaf xoxo,” a stream of consciousness that neither sister needed but that was nice. Like a conversation over tea, no matter where the other was.

Anna knew full well that Elsa wasn’t missing, that tonight was an important night for her at the Northaldran camp, that game night was tomorrow, and her sister was fine. Olaf was proof of that and Elsa wasn’t exactly in danger from any ordinary accidents of the forest. But the fact that Elsa could contact her perfectly fine and she couldn’t reach Elsa felt too much like the way things used to be, a barrier between them that Anna was powerless against.

It had had her hands shaking a little, rubbing against the thick paper she held in a vain attempt to soothe her. The forest was only two hours away for a single rider on a quick horse but she had official meetings tomorrow and her horse would be too tired for a return trip after just an hour or so there. Neither could she ask another to go in her stead, as Kristoff was needed tomorrow as well and she could not send any other. It wouldn’t be good for Arendelle, for the Queen to be sending anyone she could find off to the forest because she had to wait an hour to send a note there. No, she had to wait until Gale showed up again or Elsa came over for the night. Tomorrow, at the latest, and if not by then than something might actually be wrong. Not that anything was. Everything was fine. Gale was just busy, there was no need to be so absolutely bone deep terrified. Right?

Elsa, meanwhile was completely oblivious to her sister’s growing anxiety. She had taken Gale and the Nokk to Ahtohallan, searching for answers much different than the last time she had gone. Anna had jokingly told her that she was hogging the river of memories all to herself and wouldn’t she consider if the Northuldra wanted to visit while she was telling Anna her newly formed habits and Elsa couldn’t stop considering the possibility. Anna didn’t mean anything by it of course, having always considered it a place of spirits alone when Elsa had told her of the journey there, the deep pitfalls within that gave her confidence she was the only person to step foot there in centuries. But the knowledge of Ahtohallan had to come from somewhere and that meant that somebody had to have been there, right?

Ahtohallan answered her long considered ruminations, showing her Northaldran people from long ago exploring the cave. Only a glimpse, nothing more, but enough to bring ease to her worried mind and reassure her that with the spirits happy once more it was theoretically possible. She would not even consider bringing Anna across the sea if she didn’t know she would be safe within. It would be cruel, to give her such hope, to show her such beauty, and have to drag her out for her own safety before her sister saw what she wished.

No, Elsa’s mind was not on Anna’s current terror but rather, how to present to her the opportunity. If Anna genuinely didn’t want to go that was quite all right but Elsa was determined to make sure she understood that it was safe, that she was welcome to go if she wanted to, because her sister had been through so much, done so much for Elsa and if this would make Anna happy then she would do it in a heart beat.

But the moment she and Gale stepped out into the bright sunlight, they found the Nokk already formed, prancing in distress and Gale seemed to vibrate with energy for a split second before darting off across the sea, quick as could be and utterly terrifying. She had only been inside for an hour or two, and at the camp that morning. What could have possibly gone wrong that quickly?

Heart thumping in sudden terror, Elsa grabbed Nokk’s mane and swung up onto him, knowing he was too worked up to kneel for her and the exact second her feet were both off the ground he took off, surging forwards with a strange determination that Elsa was afraid to find the cause of. But he didn’t take her to the camp. Within a few moments they were at the castle, bounding up an ice staircase to the balcony of Anna’s room and the Nokk vanished. Terrified, Elsa slipped into the open balcony doors to find Anna sobbing heavily, curled around a pillow that was wet from tears and Gale fluttering around the room in obvious distress. Her sister didn’t even notice their arrival.

“Anna? Anna, what’s wrong?” Elsa dropped to her knees in front of the heavy four posted bed and her sister jolted, throwing herself into Elsa’s arms and sending them both crashing onto the cold concrete. There was a fresh round of wails, Anna burying her face into the crook of Elsa’s neck as she held her tightly.

“I’m s-s-sorry!” Anna cried, “I couldn’t call you,” and here her voice hitched. Elsa instantly felt awful. She had been singing, a lullaby that Maren had taught her last week. To think that her sister was beside herself with worry at the sudden inability to contact her while Elsa had been twirling in the snow, happy beyond belief at the prospect of sharing the hall of memories. Gale couldn’t have heard.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for Anna, I took Gale with me to Ahtohallan. He couldn’t hear you inside. The second we stepped out he shot off to you, of course you were frightened.” Anna’s sobs slowly started to fade away. “It’s okay Anna, I’d be terrified if it was the other way around. But I promise you, I’ll never let that happen ever again.” Elsa pulled away just a tiny bit, creating trio of snow doves and sending every bit of the love she had for her sister into them. They flapped their wings as the magic in them brought them to life, flying a quick circle around the room before returning. The largest one claimed Anna’s lap to snuggle into while the other two landed on Elsa’s outstretched arm.

“Oh Elsa!” Anna stroked the largest one’s head gently as it cooed. “They’re beautiful!”

“They’re alive, they’ll stay with you when I leave. I wish I had thought of this much sooner but they can carry notes. I don’t know if they’ll be able to find me inside Ahtohallan but we’ll do an experiment sometime to find out. I think they’ll be able to find me in the regular forest with ease. Gale will still come of course but we’ll give the little guy a break, huh?” Gale tossed Elsa’s hair into her face at the mention of his name and she smiled.

“You’re off note passing duty Gale, how about that? And thank you Elsa, I don’t know what came over me. I knew Gale was just busy but I just started to feel so worried. I haven‘t felt like I couldn’t reach you in so long, it felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

Elsa took her sister’s hands in her own, ducking her head to make eye contact the way Anna had so often done for her. “Do you remember, when we first opened up the palace how often I was overwhelmed just by touching things? I wore the gloves for so long that the feeling of textures felt wrong sometimes, even though I knew it was okay.”

Anna smiled sadly. “I remember when you carried that velvet book around for a week because you couldn’t believe how soft it was.”

“Even when you know things are different, some things just set you off until you the then bleeds into the now. But you’ll always have the birds now, so you never once have to feel like you can’t reach me, okay? You have three of them and Gale will still come to you, so you can send me all the notes your heart desires and the second you ask for it I’ll be on my way. I love getting to use my powers so freely and knowing that I can help both countries this way but Anna, I will never let you feel alone because of it, okay?”

"Thank you,” Anna said softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Come to Ahtohallan with me, I’d like to show you something.”

“What??” Anna cried, any lingering tears quickly forgotten in her surprise. Elsa laughed, grin spreading across her face at the sheer excitement on her sisters’.

“I mean it. That’s what I was doing earlier, asking if anyone else has even been there. It showed me a group of Northaldrans there many centuries ago and so I think it would be safe for you. I didn’t want to offer until I knew for sure you’d be able to go all the way into the hall of memories. Of course, you don’t have to go and if you’d rather not I understand and I--” Anna’s hand was suddenly shushing her.

“Elsa,” she said quite seriously. “I can think of nothing I’d like more than see Ahtohallan with you.”

It wasn’t until the next morning that Anna remembered last night was meant to be a celebration of her sister’s first hunting trip for the village. Her sister waved it away when Anna apologized, telling her that she had already caught the food and she certainly didn’t need the celebration for it but her message was undercut by the two letters from last week about how excited she was to so be accepted into the village. Anna felt awful but so, so loved.

#frozen #frozen 2 #anna #elsa #frozen fanfiction #frozen 2 fanfiction

22 notes · View notes