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squeakyfir · 1 year ago

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The Love from a Skeleton [Jack Skellington X Reader]

Plot: Halloween... The time of year you absolutely hate. Not because of the ghouls and monsters, you enjoyed that kind of thing, it's because of trick or treaters. They get free candy and whine and complain to their parents if they didn't get what they expected, which is the whole bowl of candy. Anyways, since you don't celebrate that holiday, you decide to go for a late stroll through the woods on the hiking trail. While walking, your whole life changes. And I mean that literally... Everything started to change drastically until you find trees with holiday symbols on it. One of them being a Jack-o-lantern. Being curious, you enter through the door and discover a world that would represent a children's book written by Stephen King. But the leader of this place was a king. Not just any king... A pumpkin king. His name is Jack Skellington. He's a very tall and slender skeleton with a pinstripe suit, a black cat bow tie and ghost dog named Zero. He discovers you and welcomes you to Halloween town until he can figure out how to send you home. But this place is perfect! No taxes to pay No drama And no more loneliness Jack believes that your hideous. But don't worry, hideous in the Halloween town definition means... Beautiful. Enjoy! *I do not own the Nightmare before Christmas. All rights belong to Tim Burton and Disney™*

Chapter 7

Previous ~ Next

Some time went by and Jack was still pressing forward with his plan. Even the citizens of Halloween town were just as determined as Jack because they were making monster toys, they changed the countdown clock from it being to Halloween to Christmas and they were even changing the appearance of Halloween town. Jack didn't have a sewing machine for you to borrow so you had to borrow Dr. Finklesteins and when you got to his laboratory, he was ten times more creepier than when you last saw him.

Anyways, Jack had set up an individual work area for you. Making Jacks santa suit was more difficult than you thought. When you had to take measurements of his body, you had to keep double checking every single time when you were sewing to make sure you didn't mess up. As you were sewing, you heard the people of Halloween town were making music and were about to start singing.

Again... Man, these monsters sure do love singing.

This time x2

Making Christmas x4

Is so fine

It's ours this time

And won't the cildren be surprised

It's ours this time

The other monster children were smashing and cutting the heads off of toys. The witches were making what looked like stew but then that fish monster popped out of the pot which meant it was disgusting.

Making Christmas x3

Time to give them something fun

They'll talk about for years to come

Let's have a cheer from everyone

It's time to party

The vampires were making toys as well. They were currently putting the finishing touches on a duck but it had sharp teeth, bloody bullet holes and was on a skateboard. What? The worst part is that it sang a verse from the song.

Making Christmas x2

Snakes and mice get wrapped up so nice

With spiders legs and pretty bows

It's ours this time

Three monsters were carving the face of a demonic Mickey mouse with sharp teeth, a suit and it was super creepy.

All together, that and this

With all our tircks we're

Making Christmastime

"Here comes jack" said the werewolf. You looked to the gates of his house and saw him and he looked surprised and happy. He spoke in song with happiness and was ecstatic about all of this.

I don't believe what's happening to me

My hopes

My dreams

My fantasies

Hee, hee, hee, hee

Jack then walks over to a monster who had one of the musicians in a pillory as he was making a hat out of a rat.

Won't they be impressed

I am a genius

See how I transform the old rat Into a most delightful hat

Jack appeared next to him and offered his suggestion.

Hmm, my compliments from me to you

On this your most intriguing hat

Consider though this substitute

A bat in place of this old rat

Jack then went over to the monster whose skin was constantly melting and very sticky.

Huh! No, no, no, now that's all wrong

This thing will never make a present

It's been dead for much too long

Try something fresher, something pleasant

Try again, don't give up

All of the monsters then went back to singing.

All together

That and this

With all our tricks

We're making Christmastime

With everything happening in Halloween town, it made you think of what was happening in Christmas town. You could picture the elves making or sewing toys or stuffed animals. They were also probably making gingerbread cookies and stuffing the stockings. You could also picture them cleaning the sleigh and putting all the toys in the sleigh. You brought out of your thoughts by more singing from the monsters.

This time x2

Making Christmas x2

La, la, la

It's almost here

And we can't wait

So ring the bells and celebrate

'Cause when the full moon starts to climb

We'll all sing out

Jack then finished off the song by singing...

It's Christmastime

Hee, hee, hee

Then out of nowhere, three skeleton reindeer appeared behind Jack and it this whole thing was getting worse and worse.

More time went by until Christmas was tomorrow. Jack was currently having you do the final stiches on his Santa outfit. "You don't look like yourself, Jack. Not at all" you said as you were stitching the sleeve if his outfit as he was wearing it. "Isn't that wonderful! It couldn't be more wonderful"!

You stopped stitching and pulled down the picture of his drawing of him in a Santa outfit and flipped it over to show him as who he truly was. The pumpkin king. "But your the pumpkin king"! He took the picture from you and snapped it into two on his knee. "Not anymore! I feel so much better now"!

You sighed and continued to stitch and talk. "Jack, I know you think that something's missing-"

You were cut off from talking when you accidentally poked the tip of his bony finger with the needle. "Ow"!

"Sorry"!

"It's alright, (Y/n). But you're right. Something is missing. But what? I've got the beard, the coat, the boots, the-"

Jack was cut off when the three monster children, Lock, Shock and Barrel, came back after being gone for some time with a walking bathtub and the same giant sack they used when they brought the Easter bunny here. "Jack! Jack! This time we bagged him" they all said simultaneously. "This time we really did"!

"He sure is big, Jack"!

"And heavy"! Lock and Shock then opened the sack and out popped Santas head as he said, "Let me out"! Everyone gasped in shock, and so did you. You were always told he wasn't real. How? "Sandy Claws... In person", said Jack as he then proceeded to take a hold of Santas hand, "What a pleasure to meet you"! As Jack was shaking his hand, he noticed his hand. You saw it too and it was small. You never would've guessed that. "Wh-why you have hands! You don't have claws at all"! Santa lifted his hat from his eyes and stared in horror of what he saw. The monsters and horrendous atmosphere. "Where am I"?

"Surprised aren't you" asked Jack, "You don't need to have another worry about Christmas this year"! Santa was so confused and couldn't find the right words to speak. "Consider this a vacation, Sandy. A reward. It's your turn to take an easy"!

"But there must be some mistake" Santa protested.

"See that he's comfortable" said Jack. Lock and Shock were about to close the sack again until Jack stopped them. "Just a second"! You were hoping that Jack had finally come to his senses but... No. "Of course! That's what I'm missing"! Jack had taken Santas hat off of him and placed it on his skull. "Thanks".

Santa kept trying to protest but the three monster children tied the sack back up and started to leave. Jack was practicing his Santa laugh and this was getting way worse and worse. Especially for Santa. You quickly followed after the children and stopped near the gate when you heard them say, "Where are we taking him"?

"Where"?

"To Oogie Boogie of course! There isn't anywhere in the whole world more comfortable than that! And Jack said to make him comfortable, didn't he"?

"Yes he did" said Shock and Barrel.

"Haven't you heard of peace on earth? And good will toward men"?

"No" the three monster children said devilishly. They laughed and cackled as they took Santa away. You wanted to follow them but you then heard Jack call out to you. You quickly ran back to the fountain and saw him looking worried but he then look relaxed and relieved when he saw you. "There you are! I was starting to worry where you were".

"Sorry Jack".

"Don't apologize, my dear. Now, why don't you go return Dr. Finklesteins sewing machine to him. You've completed the suit and it fits me perfectly"!

"Sure. I'll be back" you said. As you retrieved the machine, you started to head to Dr. Finklesteins laboratory. The machine was a bit heavy but luckily his laboratory was only a short distance. You opened the door and headed up the long spiral staircase. When you reached the top, you heard Dr. Finklesteins voice call out, "Hello? Who is there"? You looked over and saw him wheel over to you. "Ah! (Y/n), was it? How can I help you"?

"Hi doctor. I'm here to return your sewing machine".

"Right. Go ahead and put it back in the room it was in. You know, you can keep it if want".

"Thank you again for the offer, but as I've said already, I do not wish to keep it". He sighed and said, "Very well. The room is over there". He then wheeled off and you went to the large room and put the machine on the table. You decided to look around the room and saw a cabinet. Being curious, you opened it up and saw jars that some of then read as "Nightshade", "Frogs breath" and "Fog juice".

Wait a second... Fog juice???

That sounded very intriguing so you snatched it and closed the cabinet. You quickly left the laboratory and went back to Jack. But you had a question that's been bothering you for some time.

Who's Oogie Boogie?

That's a very odd name but considering all the other names you've heard while you were here didn't really surprise you. But your curiosity was to big to resist. You had to know.

You had to...

#will add more tags later

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airasora · 1 year ago

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She actually does! That's why she has that book of dresses and sewing patterns, as well as a little collection of sewing stuff and a mannequin, hidden away in her attic. She's been wanting to fix her mother's dress for a while, but the pile of chores she always has didn't leave her time. The dialogue is unfortunately a touch ambiguous because she says she'll "have" to fix it, but it's because it's no longer fashionable, and she's very excited at the prospect (the female mouse says "it's pretty but it looks old" and she replies "well of course I'll have to change it!" in a very excited tone of voice, then pulls out the book and starts talking about altering the skirt, needing a sash, changing the style of the sleeves etc). So it's a touch ambiguous but I always had the impression that she loved sewing and fashion when it wasn't "doing the mending" for her family.

I also like that she's sneaky, which is not something a lot of people notice. She had those hidden things, she kept telling Lucifer off when her stepmother's back was turned, she rules-lawyered her way into going to the ball, and she sicced Bruno on Lucifer to be able to escape the attic (I hated that they removed that scene in the live action). She also tricks Prudence and most servants in the 3rd movie.

One could argue that another distinctive characteristic she has, as per the second movie, is the whole commoner thing, and how she refuses to conform to rules not just before she's married but after she is. She flat-out decides to throw classical etiquette out the window, for starters, and that not allowing commoners in the palace is ridiculous. I love how she says to Prudence's face that she's going to do things her way and she can basically stuff it.

In general I think she does have a personality but the issue is that the princesses that came after her tended to have one trait that was much more marked than basically anything else (Belle is obsessed with books, not just likes to read; Ariel is similarly obsessed with humans and human society to the extent of endangering her own life to obtain oddities, not to mention the whole contract thing, not simply likes collecting, and so on) whilst her it was a collection of things and they couldn't really change that in the sequels without fundamentally altering her. Rapunzel is actually quite similar to her in that there's a variety of traits that she has and a variety of things that she likes to do, only they gave her the obsession with the lanterns that stood out.

But y'know that's just my take :)

I just don't think we see enough of that. We only see her interest in sewing when it is needed: to help the mice and to get to the ball. I rewatched the first scene with the mice and the one in the attic just to see if there was anything I have forgotten since the last time I watched it and while I do agree there are hints that she has an interest in sewing purely out of enjoyment, there is one tiny problem that follows into the next movies: She never EVER talks or does anything about sewing, shows an interest in clothes or anything like that again.

Now, I'll be fair: in the sequels she's either a princess - meaning she doesn't have to make her own clothing, obviously - or she's fighting against her step family to win back Prince Charming. So we're obviously not going to see anything about sewing as it doesn't fit any of the stories. But even in those stories, just a tiny hint of her passion for fashion or sewing could have been added if the developers believes it was a key character trait in her. But we don't.

The movies didn't do anything with her character that would surprise you; she grew up as a servant, now she's a princess: Obviously she's gonna be bad at it and, it being a Disney movie, she'll do things her way because you should always be yourself and follow your dreams! And since she grew up as a commoner, obviously she'll fight against the idea that royalty and commoners don't mingle. Of course she will also forgive and help her step sister because we know Cinderella is kind and forgiving, we saw that in the first movie as well.

And in the third movie, we see a little bit of cleverness, but not more than your average Disney princess, nothing that would imply she's more clever, sneaky or intelligent in comparison to the other Disney princesses at least. Again, nothing new is being discovered about her despite two more movies. Be honest with me: did Cinderella say or do anything in the sequels that surprised you? That taught you something new about her? I can say for myself that no, I didn't learn anything new about her and her actions didn't surprise me. That is in no way a BAD thing, but when I already don't think she has a lot of uniqueness to her, I would have loved to see her character be expanded upon in the sequels.

That however is something you can obviously just blame on it being Disney sequels: they aren't exactly masterpieces or known for being all that good or expand on characters etc. I just find it fascinating how I learned nothing new about Cinderella in either of the sequels, but Prince Charming became an amazingly fun character in just the last movie.

Cinderella 3 is EASILY my favorite Disney sequel. Also my favorite Cinderella movie. Only way it could have been better is if Cinderella was just an interesting character as Prince Charming, Anastasia, the king, Lady Tremaine or even Drizella and the mice. It just doesn't sit right with me that I enjoy every other character far more than the main character. I don't hate her, there's nothing to hate, she just doesn't interest me.

I have to say however that the fact Cinderella won't conform to the royal rules is not really that unique to her. And incredibly out of character, not just for her, but for all Disney princesses. Disney, in general, mostly shows their royal heroes as being empathetic towards anyone, not just someone of the same class as them and so forth, but also for the poor, the hungry and less fortunate. Either that, or we see the heroes LEARN to have empathy and understand that no one is above each other in value.

There are quite a few princesses who either fight against royal traditions, show love and care for their people and so forth. Jasmine also fought against the traditions and royal law regarding her getting married to a prince before a certain birthday.

In fact, now that I think about it, if they had gone down the road of Cinderella being DESPERATE to be a good princess in the sequel, because part of her is terrified of losing not just her Prince Charming, but also the new life she has, that would honestly have been a more interesting take AND would have dived deeper into Cinderella as a character. If we got to see her fight tooth and nail to be what Prudence tells her she should be, to the point where she would maybe ignore the mice, not greet her friends from the village, stuff like that and then for her to realize that because she's afraid of losing what she has, she's now instead losing herself in the process. Then she could have decided to do things her own way because she needs to be true to herself and so forth.

But they don't do that. Instead the Cinderella we have from the beginning of the first movie to the third movie at the very end, is the exact same person. She starts off being kind, forgiving, good towards animals, all that and she stays that way through all the movies. She doesn't change, she doesn't learn from her mistakes - because she makes none - and she has close to no character arc. She's the same practically flawless person from the beginning all to the very end and that is boring to me.

I'm not trying to convince anyone to dislike Cinderella, frankly I don't dislike her either. I just think it's a shame that her character isn't strong just on its own, WITHOUT the story, without the mice, her family and her love interest. Most of her characteristics are some she share with all or at least the majority of other princesses; kindness, forgiveness, courage, following your dreams, these are all the basic ingredients for all the Disney princesses.

I just wanted to see more of just her as a person. Not just the neglected daughter, not just the animal lover, not just the forced servant - I wanted to see her just as her.

And I just don't see enough for her to stand out on the Disney princess line-up.

#cinderella #rant #i know it sounds like i hate her #i really really don't #she just does nothing for me #tbf i don't like most cinderellas not just the disney ones #cinderella as a character just tends to be a little too perfect #they dialed that up to 11 in the remake #she's way worse there

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

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The Truck - ep. 08 - Georgia

Summary: You stop by on break to visit Daryl at the auto shop. The Jeep is almost done being repaired.

A/N: I think basically I’m writing an even slower burn than last time.

Georgia Masterlist | The Walking Dead Masterlist

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

“I think ya ain’t as smart as ya tell me ya are,” Daryl joked as he caught sight of you walking into Dale’s Autobody shop, still in your uniform from the diner. Three days after Christmas and you’d been working as many hours as Patricia would give you. Both you and your mom trying to stay away from the house and each other as much as possible.

“I most definitely am. Why?” You asked, ducking your head down into the car he was working on when he sat down in the front seat. A newer model Nissan he’d been cursing since the owner brought it in.

“Cause I tell ya all the time not ta come in here and where are ya?” He asked, looking over at you.

“It’s not my fault, Axel said you said you’re almost done my baby.” You teased. Axel had told you over ordering his lunch that Daryl had mentioned to T-Dog that he was nearly done the work on the Jeep. Took a while, he had lamented, but he was finally, almost done. “Heard you’re glad to be rid of me.”

“Ain’t what I said,” he replied, “said I was glad ta be rid a that fucking jeep. Pain in my ass.”

“Now I know you’re talking about me.”

Daryl’s expression changed for a brief second, eyes fixing on the faint pink lines on your cheek. Barely noticeable but they hadn’t been there before Christmas. “What happened?” He tapped his finger against the same spot on his face to indicate what he was asking about.

“Just a cat scratch. Hershel’s got a couple to keep the mice away and I couldn’t resist trying to pet one.”

“They’re nasty creatures…yer lucky he didn’t take yer whole face off.” He replied, climbing back out of the car again. “Ya on break?”

You shook your head, “I picked up a shift from Amy, I got an hour to kill before I start for her.”

“Ain’t I lucky.”

“So, is my car really almost fixed?” You asked. You pulled the rolling stool over from the work bench and sat down, spinning once.

“Just about.” He replied.

Daryl hated to admit it but he’d been dragging his feet on the project and when he realized that he was nearing completion and your car would be fixed he was half tempted to break it all over again. Sure, you liked stopping in now, chatting him up before or after a shift, bumming rides, showing up at his house to spend your afternoons sitting under the car park. But once the car was fixed you wouldn’t need him to entertain you anymore. You could go to your friends houses or anywhere really, but you didn’t have to hang out with him. He wasn’t going to tell you yet but he’d let it slip to T-Dog and once one of them knew they practically broadcast it.

“You working late?” You asked, wheeling yourself over next to him.

“Why, ya don’t know anyone else with a car?”

“Why bother them when I have you?” You tilted your head back to look up at him and smile. You looked like a little kid with your eyes closed and a smile wide enough that he could see all your teeth.

He rolled his eyes at you and reached over, swiping his greasy finger down your nose and making you jump suddenly at the contact. Your eyes opened and you slid back against the car. “Careful ya don’t scratch her.”

“Did you rub grease on my nose!” You whined, trying to rub it off with the back of your hand but only making more of a mess.

Daryl shrugged, “ain’t nice ta tease.”

“Do you have a bathroom here?”

He pointed toward the back of the shop and you got up, headed for the bathroom to wipe the grease off your face.

In truth Daryl wasn’t the only one who wasn’t looking forward to the car being fixed. Your throat felt like it dropped into your stomach when Axel told you that Daryl was almost finished the car. It sent you thinking...if Daryl told Axel did that mean he was glad it was almost finished? Was he looking forward to having you out of his hair finally? You scrubbed the grease off your face and frowned at your reflection. You didn’t want this to end.

“So, ya need a ride later?” Daryl asked once you came out of the bathroom.

“Yeah if you don’t mind.” You replied.

“Nah,” he shrugged as if he was indifferent toward driving you home, “ain’t got nothing better ta do.”

You hung around a little while longer before you headed back to the diner for work. The whole night you felt distracted by Axel’s news from earlier. You were desperate to get some advice from Maggie but there wasn’t much she could offer, Glenn didn’t need any persuading to be madly in love with her. They’d been together since the 6th grade winter dance and there was no doubt in your mind that nothing, not even Hershel’s stupid rules, could keep them apart.

Glenn and Maggie were the exception to the rule. Daryl wasn’t tripping over himself to profess his love for you. Half the time you weren’t even totally sure that he liked you. There were glimpses of something that might’ve been something but trust you to choose someone so hard to read. You spent the whole dinner rush trying to think up less costly ways to spend time with him that wouldn’t annoy him or make him feel like you were some stupid kid. The word kid alone was not necessarily something you wanted him to associate with you.

The idea sparked when he pulled up outside at the end of your shift, parking his truck by the door. You ignored Lori’s comment about Dixon’s being bad news. She ‘went to school with him’ and somehow that had made her the only reputable source on him, at least in her mind. Coupled with the fact that it was Daryl driving you home you were just happy to be done work.

“I hate the dinner rush,” you complained as you pulled the door shut and leaned against the seat. “This lady bitched me out over the table having a mark in it, meanwhile her kids were dunking every fucking sugar packet, jam packet, and salt packet into their cups of water and then splashing them all over the table!”

“Musta really boiled yet blood if it’s got ya cursing.”

“I can curse.”

“I’m sure ya can.” He teased.

You pouted, arms crossed over your chest as you slumped in the seat and Daryl reached over, jabbing you gently with his fingers against your side when he stopped at a streetlight. You laughed from the sudden sensation and pushed his hand away.

“I’m not allowed to curse at home but I can curse.” You insisted and he only shook his head, smiling.

“Think yer a little too sweet ta be hanging around me.”

“Nonsense. I like hanging out with you.” You replied, “which reminds me-“

“Yeah, what now?”

“How would you feel about teaching me some basic car stuff? I don’t know anything about cars and I’d really like to learn.”

It was the plan that had finally occurred to you halfway through your shift. You didn’t know the first thing about changing oil or fixing a tire. Hell, you couldn’t even fill it with air if you wanted to.

“Yer dad never teach ya how ta handle a car?”

“No, I don’t even know how to put windshield washer in it.”

“A’right, I’ll teach ya. After I finish working on yer car.” He replied. You had only been considering yourself when you formulated your master plan but Daryl couldn’t help the brief flutter of excitement that he felt thinking you’d decided to ask him to help. Even if it was just so you could navigate the basics it still meant that you would willingly be spending more time with him.

“Seriously?” You asked, smiling over at him.

“Yeah, why not? Ya should know how ta fix yer car.” He replied, “simple stuff…still gotta make money.”

“I might get so good I’ll steal your business.” You replied.

“Sure ya could.” He pulled up where he always did, your house visible from his spot parking along the sidewalk. It was dark, just the post lantern by the front of the driveway on. “Yer parents ain’t home?” No cars were in the driveway.

“My mom’s already left for work.” You shrugged, opening the door to the truck.

“She be gone all night?”

“I can stay by myself, promise.” You laughed to make a joke of it but you usually spent the night in the living room, talking to Tara or Maggie until they eventually went to sleep. You hated being home alone.

“I ain’t got anywhere ta be.” Daryl shrugged, offering some company.

“You don’t mind staying?”

The inside of your house was exactly what Daryl had expected. A far cry from the worn down, dirty home that he lived in with his father, this was pristine. As if no one had ever sat on the furniture or lived in the house. There weren’t any family pictures but there was Christian art in its place. Tasteful, Martha Stewart-esque Christmas decorations were highlighted through out the living room and kitchen, both spotless.

Daryl pulled a face at the décor at you laughed, “my mom went on a pier one kick a few years ago trying to outdo the Walshs.”

“Can’t complain, it’s nicer than mine ever was.” He replied, looking over the table top tree, “yer dad at work too?”

“No. I mean, he’s away. Visiting family.” You said, heading into the kitchen, “my mom works overnight at the hospital, she’s been doing a lot doubles lately though. I’ll be right out, I’m gonna change!”

Daryl nodded but didn’t say anything, flicking on the rest of the living room lights to get a better look at the room. The only pictures that weren’t nature landscapes or birds were on the mantle. A church directory photo of you and your parents from this year and your senior portrait, the traditional black off the shoulder look with a rose in your hand.

“I hate that picture,” you complained as you came back into the room. “I look hideous.”

“Don’t think that’s possible but I ain’t gonna argue.” Daryl replied. “Least I ain’t the only one who don’t have family pictures up.”

“My mom hates candid pictures. She’d never hang them up.” You settled on the couch and watched as Daryl walked back to the door to kick his shoes off. “I don’t have beer but there’s soda in the fridge.”

“I ain’t ever drinking beer ‘round you again. Yer a terrible influence. Ain’t Glenn Hershel should be worried ‘bout.” Daryl teased, coming over to sit beside you.

“What? No! I am not a bad influence!” You laughed, “I’ve never done anything wrong in my whole life.”

“I been witness to a few things.”

“No one will believe you.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” He said, thinking briefly that no one would even believe he was here right now, sitting your house with you while you clicked through channels. He’d be hard pressed to convince them that you had even bummed a cigarette off him, especially if they saw the sweet looking church photo of you with your parents.

“So what kind of car things will you teach?” You asked, ignoring the channel you’d chosen and turning more toward Daryl.

“What kinda car things ya need ta learn?”

“Everything but how to drive?” You replied, biting your lip.

“Well I ain’t seen ya drive so I can’t cross it off the list just yet.”

“I’m a good driver.”

“Yeah? You working tomorrow morning?” He asked, looking back toward the TV.

“No, I’ve got off.”

“Alright, I gotta pick up my check in Woodbury, I’ll let you drive me for once.”

“In my Jeep?”

“Hell no, ya ain’t getting in that thing ‘fore it’s fixed. You can drive the truck.” He replied. The truck was his brother Merle’s originally but Merle was in jail and he hadn’t spent the last three years fixing every inch of it to have it running like new. It might’ve been Merle’s to begin with but that old Chevy was Daryl’s pride and joy. He didn’t let anyone get behind the wheel, not even Rick or T-Dog, but he was offering it up to you.

“I’ll be the best driver you’ve ever seen.”

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whumpster-fire · 3 years ago

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Athanasia Part 1: The Creature In the Cage

Re-posting this story that started out as a Whumptober 2020 entry because I’ve made a few edits and also I have more content for this OC planned so I want to give her a proper re-introduction.

The character featured here is Tansy, currently anonymous because she hasn’t gotten her name yet in-universe. Link to her refsheet here

CONTENT WARNINGS: Monster whumpee, Animal Whump, Animal Cruelty, Animal Death Mention, Mention of predators being predators, Gore, Infected Wounds, Vomit

The cage is much too small for the little creature trapped inside it. Much too small to leave her in it this long, at least. How long has it been? She doesn’t know anymore, but it has been many, many days, and many, many nights. She is not sure she remembers what grass feels like anymore. It is just barely big enough to turn around in, but she cannot sit up without hitting her head on the ceiling, or stretch her tail out. It is far too small to pace back and forth from one end to the other like she could in the last cage. Her legs are weak from lack of use.

The first night she came to the village, she only hunted the rats and mice and other small vermin. She looked longingly into the windows of the houses, wishing she could be in there with the warmth. But the people didn’t want her. They threw her out long ago. It seemed like the family had loved her at first, but then the preacher told them what she was, and they got rid of her. She came back to the old village once, to see if the children had grown, but a plague had swept across the land and everybody had either left or joined the pits of bones.

For a long time she lived out in the woods, in the wild, but there was less of it with every turn of the seasons, and something drew her to the new village, with its cobbled main street and windows of real glass in the houses, and she thought she could live in humanity’s shadow again.

But the people hadn’t changed. Not at all. She lived off the mice and rats for a while, but one day the hunting horns sounded and hooves thundered and hounds bayed. She wasn’t what the men were looking for, but they set the dogs on her all the same, chasing her down and digging out her burrow and tearing and biting until there was nothing but scraps of fur and bone, which they left in a ditch to rot.

The next night the creature came to the village, she left the mice and rats alone. Let them eat the people’s grain and spread disease among them, she thought. If they hated her, hunted her for sport, then why should she help them? That night, she went to the henhouse, and she came again every night for a fortnight until the dogs caught her. The people hunted her down again, and chased her up a tree. A man brought out a new weapon that hadn’t existed when she first knew the people, an iron tube that exploded with fire and smoke, and knocked her from the tree. They took her back to the village by force, and strung her up on a gamekeeper’s gibbet with the rotting carcasses of the foxes and stoats and all the other creatures they called vermin.

The night after she chewed through the wires binding her, the creature came to the henhouse again. She ate her fill, and then painted the walls with blood. She left the village alone after that. She didn’t want anything to do with the people anymore. But they hunted her, they searched for weeks before they finally caught her. And they must have figured out that there was only one of her, because that was when they put her in the cage.

She has been in the cage for a long time now. She was a curiosity to them at first, but they never loved her. At first it amused them to hurt her, to shoot her or drown her or build a fire under the cage, but now she is only a nuisance. They moved the cage out of the cellar to the barn after her screeching kept them up at night, and out of there too when she frightened the horses. So they put her in this smaller cage, barely big enough to turn around in. She hangs from a post in the town square, which is really on the edge of the village by the old dirt road leading to other places. The grass is so close, just a man’s height below her, but she can never reach it.

She cannot get out. She cannot get out. The cage is rusty, but the iron bars are thick, and she has broken her teeth and claws trying to gnaw through them. Her paws are always bloody and scabbed from the rough iron under them. She has been out here for so long, with nowhere to hide from the rain and the cold and the heat of the sun.

People used to come by and feed the creature in the cage and give her water, but they have fed her less and less as time went on. It has been many days since anyone has bothered to do it at all. Her body is weak from starvation. Her ribs stick out, and her skin is loose on her bones. Her coat is dull, and the fur is matted with grime: blood, and the rotten fruit and eggs visitors sometimes throw, and the dust and dirt kicked up from the road, and rust from the bars above her, and the many, many times she has been sick in the cage. It falls through the bars of the floor, but they still get dirty, and there is nowhere else to lie.

The people she hates most are the children. The adults have mostly stopped paying attention to her, except when they are drunk, which is admittedly quite often. But the children think it is funny to poke her with sticks through the bars, or rattle her cage around so it sways, or tease her by holding food just out of her reach. The gaps in the bars are just big enough to fit her paws through, and many days ago she clawed angrily at one of the boys and cut his finger. But he dropped the piece of meat he was taunting her with, and he hit her foreleg with a heavy stick before she could get it back through the bars.

That leg is broken now. It was broken so badly the bone came out through the skin, and she is so weak and hungry that it hasn’t healed. Instead, it is slowly rotting. For many days there has been another cage nearby with a man in it, who was convicted of murder and sentenced to die by being hung in the cage and not fed. For a while he was company, and tried to talk to her. But many days ago he died, and the creature in the cage envies him for it. His rotting body has driven most of the people from the square with its stench, but she cannot get away from it. It has brought more company in the form of kites and crows that pick at his flesh. They try to pick at hers too, but their beaks cannot reach through the bars, except for small wounds they have given her. The body has also brought swarms of flies, buzzing and biting and laying eggs in the creature’s wounds, including where her leg is broken. There is no way to escape from the cruel maggots in the tiny cage. But they are the only thing she has eaten for a long, long time.

Today, they took the dead man away. He was little more than bones and dried-out skin anyway. It is not night yet, but the sky is dark. Thunder rolls and lightning flashes. The creature cowers in her cage, her little heart racing. She has always been afraid of lightning, and there is no escape from it. She flinches with every bolt, afraid it will strike the gibbet. No one is outside in the village but her.

Rain pours down, finally washing her fur. She wants to be clean again, but it is so cold, so terribly cruelly cold. There is nowhere in the cage to get away from the driving rain, and she is soaked to the skin. She wants to drink the rain, because she has had no water for days, but she is shivering, so hard her teeth clatter together, and she is afraid she will bite her tongue and it won’t heal. The shivering is taking all her strength. She curls into a sodden ball of fur, whimpering and begging the storm to go away. The howling wind makes the cage sway violently, tossing her around inside it and beating her against the bars. Lightning flashes off the church steeple, so close that her ears ring.

The wind gets worse, and worse. The rain is going sideways now. The cage sways, and the gibbet creaks. Then, suddenly, it gives way. The cage is falling, and she is falling with it. She splays her paws out and braces herself for the landing. But one of her paws goes through the bars in the cage, and it snaps.

She is hurt, she is broken, but so is the cage. The heavy wooden beam of the gibbet has fallen on it and smashed the iron bars open, nearly crushing her. Freedom is so close. She drags herself through the gap which is really too narrow for her, crying out as the jagged edges catch and tear her skin. She collapses onto the ground, but there is no grass under her. There is only the cold, deep mud the heavy rain has turned the dirt road into. She drags herself through the mud for a few paces, but that is all her starved body can manage before her strength fails her. All she can do is keep shivering, and breathing, and holding her head out of the mud and rainwater, but even those will not last long.

The creature waits for death to claim her there in the cold mud. But then, she hears heavy boots splashing in the puddles, slowly getting closer. She looks up, astonished. Someone is out here after all. A figure in a cloak stands over her, sheltering his lantern from the wind. It is dim, but lightning flashes and illuminates a weathered, bearded face lined with confusion, then sympathy. Pity. He reaches down. The creature hisses, and screams, and snaps at his wool glove. What would a human ever do but hurt her?

“What in God’s Green Earth are you?” the traveler wonders aloud. Then: “What in hellfire did they do to you?”

Lightning flashes again. The wind puts out the man’s lantern as he reaches for her again, but his eyes glow with their own yellow light.

Just like hers.

The creature that was in the cage begins to cry, but she doesn’t stop the traveler from picking her up and bundling her into his cloak. She just shivers, and cries against his chest, pressing herself into the first warmth she has known for many, many years.

#whump #my writing #Tansy (OC)#monster whumpee #animal whump tw #immortal whumpee #animal cruelty tw #starvation #vomit tw #broken bones tw #hurt no comfort #(yet)

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letsloveimagines · 4 years ago

Photo

Title: One kiss or your soul

Pairing: Modern AU! Ivar the Boneless x female!demon!reader

Prompt: Where Ivar decides to my a deal with a demon.

Word Count: 4520

Warnings: a little swearing, satanic rituals, mention of monsters and death

Note: The images doesn’t belong to me, all the credits go to the respective creators. I only made the collage. Also,the rituals were based on Supernatural.

♦⋅☆⋅♦

He tried to take a short walk that day, for the first time in months... His skin was now bone white, and Ivar knew he needed at least about ten minutes of vitamin D.

What he did not expect was the huge crowd that was on the street that blessed day; families gathered to talk animatedly, children playing with each other to discuss the disguises they would wear and all the sweets they would eat. The city appeared to be decorated with bats, cobwebs, scarecrows and zombies, lanterns and pumpkins. It was then, while he was surrounded by people everywhere and feeling his heart thundering, that he remembered it was October, Halloween more precisely, and the whole community was getting ready for the fun of that night.

The pain in his legs was already characteristic, his gait was sloppy and lame, and crutches were his longtime companions. But that never failed to attract attention as always, and that happened at that moment. The children who played looked at him laughing and pointing, talking to each other, the adults whispered and looked at him with pity.

Ivar hated pity.

And he hated even more how the attention of those shitty people made him feel, even though he was already used to it.

With a strong desire to vomit, feeling the sweat running down every corner of his body and trying to breathe, Ivar looked for any corner where he could take shelter. The small library across the street that seemed to be the only establishment without the festive theme appeared to be the best option. He was quick to cross the street - as fast as it was possible for him - to enter the establishment, greet the lady with the half-moon glasses behind the counter (who chewed blue bubblegum while filing her nails), and hid in the most distant place possible, among several decrepit shelves almost falling with the weight of dozens of books.

Ivar had sat on the floor, his back against the books and shelves, his head hidden in his arms and knees drawn up just trying to remember how to breathe. He was at the beginning of a panic attack, and being aware of it only made him even more distressed. He hated that it happened because of his useless legs and because of people he didn't care about. Why couldn't he have been born healthy like his brothers? The air did not seem to reach his lungs fast enough, leaving him almost choked and trembling all around, and with the world spinning around him over and over again.

It took a while, but it ended up after a few minutes of breathing exercises. The frustration remained, however, leaving him so enraged with himself and the world, that he punched the bookshelf behind him in an abrupt gesture. This hasty action caused so much noise that he was sure that the children across the street had been able to hear. In silence, swallowing hard and fearing he would be expelled to face the crowd outside, Ivar peered slightly at the librarian trying to see if she had heard it too. This one, however, had her back to him with the phone between her ear and shoulder, talking animatedly while continuing to take care of her nails, without paying attention to what was happening around her.

"No..." she exclaimed, certainly wanting to sound shocked, but looking completely delighted by what she had just heard. "Don't tell me that she really said that to you?"

More relieved, the boy leaned back against the bookshelf perhaps with more force than was necessary, as he immediately felt the wood behind him creak and the piece of furniture rocked from side to side. The dark-haired boy was quick to grab it, managing to keep it from tipping over, but not without a few books falling to the floor raising so much dust that it left his black pants almost gray. One of those books, due to fate, had not joined the others on the wooden floor eaten by the termites immediately, but had fallen on top of him, the hardcover hitting his head hard. Thankfully, the boy had been born with a head full of rich black hair capable of supporting the impact, or he could now have a bruise to take care of later.

Curiously, still rubbing his head with the free hand of his clutch, he looked at the cursed object. It was a book with a brown cover and black insignia and broken in the corners. In large and dark letters, in a font that looked like a victorian one he could read 'Monsters in the Darkness'. Interesting title, Ivar thought, quickly putting the other books on the shelf and flipping through the one that had caught his eye.

Looking at the watch on his phone that said it was still 2PM, and listening to the conversations outside, he thought why not.

He found himself a chair, shook off the dust with the back of his hand and began to read. The pages were turned quickly while Ivar, frowning, realized what the book was really about.

"What the fuck?" He asked in a low voice, amazed.

His hands held the book tightly, his eyes skimming over the yellowed and gnawed pages. Or maybe it was the mice, this place seems to be full of them, Ivar thought. It was true. That library was old, smelled of mold and looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years. But that was a good thing, at least for him, because it meant it was almost always empty. Whoever wrote this must be on drugs.

But he still didn't stop.

The more he read the more confused he became. The names and notes changed as well as the images, but they were all on the same theme: dark creatures and reports of sightings. Vampires, werewolves, spirits... creatures with claws and fangs, ferocious and with the ability to kill as easily as breathing.

The younger Lothbrok was confused but immensely interested. He didn't believe any of that, but it helped to pass the time. The boy always liked scary things, but he liked the real ones better, and those creatures that the book addressed had no way of being real. However, he was unable to drop the book.

His fingerprints passed smoothly through the written words and the drawn figures, feeling the depth of the ink on the paper. The words registered in his mind quickly as he read page by page, practically devouring the book in what seemed to him mere minutes, but in fact it was already three hours straight sitting in a corner of the moldy library, with a weak lamp beside him illuminating his reading.

He read so much until his blue eyes got tired and he was forced to rest for a few minutes, and until he was at the end of the book. The last theme was demons, but as soon as he turned the page to continue reading, he found… nothing, just the back cover of the book indicating that it was over.

Strange, he thought absently. And that page was even stranger, a few millimeters thicker than the others... almost as if it were glued.

He should? Looking again at the librarian who, admirably, was still distracted on the phone after three hours, Ivar grabbed the knife he always carried with him, opened it and carefully took it to the paper, making a small cut. As he suspected, the previous page was actually many more, and Ivar was eager to find out what it was about and why those pages seemed to be a secret.

> Of all the inhuman creatures that walk the earth, demons are the most evil. They desire nothing more than death and destruction, and not out of desperation or need as is the case with vampires who need blood to survive ... Demons kill and torture simply because they want and can, because they love the pleasure that the chaos of humanity brings them. There are those who say that they were also mortal once, but that their souls were corrupted so perversely in the depths of hell that they ended up becoming what tortured them. Blood, pain and death are all that are left behind when they pass.

> They are faster, more beautiful and stronger than should be possible. They are attractive and charming, in a way that hypnotizes a human. But they are evil, above all. Demons are separated into different sections depending on their personal power, or at least that is what we think. They are able to make a deal with a mortal, give us what we want for a while, but take away something they want afterwards. They are deadly dangerous… She, above all.

Ivar didn't even realize he was reading aloud until his voice started to crack, and he had to clear his throat so much that it looked like his throat was scratched. He wanted water, but he didn't have it, and he was not going to stop reading his interesting book now to fetch it. Frowning, he looked back at the page.

> It is not really known who she is or when she was created. Some say that she is Lilith, the first demon known by men and the mother of monsters... Others say that she is even older and her real name is lost, or forgotten by those who fear her. Now, she is known as Y/N, and as her there is no equal. Dark and deadly, she is Lucifer's right hand. But she is the most qualified to make a deal with, if they are brave enough to do so, and if they have something she wants.

Deal? What kind of deal? Ivar asked himself, and at that moment his cell phone vibrated in his pants pocket. When he pulled it out and unlocked it, a message from Alfred appeared on the display.

Alfred: Hey man, are you sure you don't want to join a horror movie marathon? It was going to be fun.

Oh, Ivar had completely forgotten about that. Alfred had already invited him a few days ago, but the long-haired boy hadn't given him the right answer since he was working on one of the chapters in his new book. He made a point of ignoring his family's thousands of missed messages and calls, however.

Ivar: Nah bro, I still haven't finished the chapter and I have until Thursday to deliver. I will probably be busy working on it for the next few hours. Sorry…

That was what I had to do as soon as I got home. It didn't take long to receive an answer.

Alfred: There is no problem, but you will have to compensate me. The marathon is next Saturday, okay?

Ivar: Yeah, sounds good to me!

He received a "Cool" as an answer and returned the phone to his pocket.

> Generally summoning a demon requires several ingredients: a devil's trap, fire (white, black or red candles), bowl with red-hot charcoal, salt, summoner's blood and the summoning words.

Ivar then proceeded to read what the ritual was like, along with the necessary Latin words.

> However, it is not advisable to do this. Once a demon is summoned and on the human floor, they are freed from the restrictions of hell. There is nothing to stop them from doing what they want. And if you try to summon her... Well, may God have mercy on your soul.

And so the book ended, with a phrase that at that moment seemed so scary.

His throat was dry, his hands were shaking again and for some strange reason he felt the sweat on his forehead and neck, the fat drops escaping the hairline running down his neck and back.

Should I? He thought, confused, it's freaking stupid, I know.

Ivar was a man of science, he believed in the real facts. Yes, he liked scary stories and mythologies - after all, one of his books dealt with Norse mythology - but he didn't really believe in it. And everything in that accursed book that had fallen on his head addressed unreal things, fictional things... Monsters created by the human imagination, by humans who wanted to blame their own evil on creatures that could not exist.

He was already closing the book and getting up to replace it, when he stopped and looked at his left hand, opened his palm and saw the half-moon wounds he had done with his nails in one of his attacks of anger.

He sat down again, staring at the yellowed pages. The dark, sharp letters and monstrous figures, with horns and cat-like eyes were everything he could see... that and his hands, always injured.

The earlier panic attack came back to him, his mind working at full speed. Frustrated, he ran his hands through his dark hair making a mess of locks fall onto his forehead and into his eyes, and he felt like pulling out each one.

The librarian was still talking on the phone, the children outside were playing, but all Ivar could think about was how hard it had been to breathe, and how much the walls felt like they were going to close and crush him in that moment when he was curled up on the floor hours ago, with useless legs at his side and that characteristic pain.

Why couldn't he just be normal?

"Fuck it." He grunted then, tearing up the page that contained the details of the ritual while making sure he was not seen, folding the paper and putting it in his pocket. He closed the book, got up, grabbed his crutch and went to put the book in a random place on the shelf where it belonged.

Without further ado, he passed the librarian who looked at him strangely again, still in that conversation (what kind of work allowed her to be on the phone for hours with no end?), And left the place that had been his hiding place in the last hours.

It was night when he returned home. The full moon shone overhead, and the children and their companions were already spotted in all kinds of disguises ringing the bells and knocking on the doors.

Upon entering his practically empty apartment, with only the minimalist decor here and there, he placed the bag from the convenience store on the couch, and pushed it away. The feet of the couch squeaked as they were dragged across the wooden floor and left a prominent mark.

He turned on the TV on a random channel and turned the sound down, just to feel a presence and have a light to illuminate, and closed the curtains on the window that was always closed too. He would never again make the mistake of leaving it open, the last time that Mrs.Rose's cat on the third floor entered the house in search of food, and left a mess of scratched furniture and broken cushions.

Taking a deep breath he took the materials he bought, and prepared himself.

Even though Ivar didn't believe it was going to work, he was still willing to try it, at this point he was desperate… The prices of medicines were high, the hospital bills were even higher, and even with his writing career going well, he continued to lose hundreds of dollars a month. Ivar was too proud to join his father's company, contrary to what his brothers had done. He wanted a job that was his own, and guaranteed on his own merit and not because it was in the family.

And he wanted to go outside and not worry about people seeing him because of his disability and dragging legs... he wanted to be able to live, not just survive.

For once in his life Ivar wanted normalcy.

He opened the box of chalk, took the page he still had in his pocket, and with the red chalk he drew the pentagram shown on the paper on the floor. The lines were more crooked than they were supposed to, but it should be enough to work.

He took the black candles, placed one on each of the five ends of the star, and lit them with a lighter. Then he put the charcoal in a bowl, lit it and watched it burn for a while.

He took the knife in his pocket, took the sharp blade to the index finger of his left hand and pressed hard, breaking the skin. Ivar saw the red drops begin to fall into the bowl, the blood sizzling as it came in contact with the burning coal.

And then he did nothing more than take a deep breath for a few good minutes.

Before being too afraid to continue - he wasted too much time and energy to stop now - he spoke, pronouncing each word slowly and correctly, in a calm tone.

"Daemon, esto subjecto voluntati maea. Te invoco apro funus inferni, Y/N."

For a moment nothing happened it was just him there, in the middle of the living room, with a number of absurd things around him that if anyone saw him, he would be immediately sent to a hospital.

But suddenly he shivered. The floor shook, the walls shook, everything shook. TV and appliances, furniture, lamps, everything. The plates and glass bottles on the kitchen table rattled, toppled and broke into a thousand pieces as it fell to the floor. The windows seemed to want to open with the force of the wind outside that wanted to enter, whistling furiously. Ivar had to hold on to something when the earthquake suddenly got stronger.

And then…

The flames went out, leaving the wax to melt and hit the floor, he wasn't sure how he was going to explain it to the owner, the shaking stopped and the wind calmed down.

Ivar was left in darkness and silence, with blood dripping from his index finger to his pants, and breathing so fast that he had to open his mouth and inhale as deeply as his lungs could take to try to breathe.

Blood was pumping through his veins and hitting his ears, preventing him from hearing.

"You are such an idiot." The man said frustrated with himself. It was just an earthquake, which came just in time to almost make me believe. Later, when I turn on the TV, I’m going to see that all over the news.

He shook his head, and looked once again at the destruction in the kitchen and confusion in the living room. He was getting ready to go clean up the mess when the candles lit again - alone this time - they went up so high that they looked like they were going to reach the ceiling, beautiful dancers in red, orange, and yellow dresses. The firelight created strange shadows in every corner, tall and small, thin and wide.

And there, in the middle of the chalk-drawn pentagram, was a woman.

Ivar gasped in shock, stepping back several steps, almost falling into the sack of coal left there. The woman looked at him and he looked at the mysterious woman.

"Mortals." She almost spat, full of disdain. "Always so bold and wishing for more than they are due."

He didn't know what to say or how to react. He had hoped it would work but at the same time he didn't really expect it to actually work!

"So what do you want, human?" She said disinterestedly, looking at the chalk-drawn pentagram that held her in disgust.

"I want to make a deal."

"Oh really?" The way she spoke suggested that she thought the boy was stupid. "What is your name, mortal?"

"Ivar Lothbrok." He replied proudly, because as much as he hated his life, he could not hate his name.

"Cute." Y/N commented with an eyebrow raised in clear disdain. "Now tell me what you really want."

Ivar tried to swallow his anger, tried not to let it show on his face and mannerisms, but he couldn't. His eyes and jaw narrowed, his nostrils flared in fury, and his hands gripped the clutch so tightly that for a moment he was afraid to break it. "Look at me and tell me what you think I want!"

And she looked. She looked from head to toe, passing through his long dark hair, blue eyes and facial features, over his body and legs... those damn legs.

"I don't see anything too much."

If it were possible, Ivar would now be smoking his ears. The veins in his neck swelled and bulged, and his cheeks flushed with anger.

“All my life I have always been different from everyone else. If we still lived in ancient times, my parents would leave me in the forest for the wolves when I was born. My whole life has been a struggle, I am the youngest son and the one who had the misfortune of being like this. I'm not normal, I'm not like my brothers, and as much as everyone tells me that it doesn't matter… I can't help being angry all the time.” Ivar confessed, forcing his grip on his clutch. “I was born with broken legs, I spent my entire life in hospitals and being inspected by the doctors. And now they said they think that I will get worse and stop walking completely. Being healthy is what I want.”

There was silence for a long time, while the human and demon looked at each other.

"Yes, that is possible."

"Then give it to me!"

The demon's laugh was loud, hoarse and cold, and her face was full of disdain. But then it changed in front of him, becoming something out of a horror movie. The beautiful woman was gone and now there was something much worse. It was an almost grotesque sight in his human eyes. A dark and without beauty female figure. A pale face and half cadaverous; black lips and sharp teeth like a dagger blade. Completely red eyes shining with hunger and malice. Two long horns protruded from between the hair with something sticky like blood.

Ivar's extremely blue eyes widened, he backed away almost falling again in that damn night.

“Honey, this is not how it works. Do you really know who you are talking to? Do you think you can boss me around? Do you expect me to do something to you without giving me something in return?” She said in an ugly, guttural and chilling voice, smiling devilishly revealing a long, almost snake-like tongue.

"As long as you're in that trap, you'll have to do what I want." He tried as hard as possible not to let his voice falter, but he still couldn't.

"Oh really?"

And as if just to prove her point, she took a step forward, approaching and crossing the crooked lines that formed the pentagram leaving the trap completely.

“Deary, you should have done your research better. With a normal demon, perhaps this lowly trap could have worked, but with me? I am something much worse than a simple demon, and by invoking me you have left me completely free to do what I want. ”

"I'm not afraid of you."

"You should be."

Ivar's heart was pounding in his chest, almost as if it was about to explode at any moment, and his fragile legs were shaking so much that he didn't even know how he was still standing.

"I want to be able to walk freely, run, jump... Do everything I can't right now. Please..." She seemed to want him to beg, but Ivar didn't. He could put aside some of his pride, but not that much.

They stayed close to each other, he deathly pale looking in amazement at the bottomless red pits that were her eyes, her sharp teeth, her black lips full of darkness... Until she opened a toothy and devilish smile, and little by little her demonic features retreated, disappearing into her skin again and making her look like a human woman again… and a beautiful one.

She walked away still smiling amused, letting out a little laugh. "Usually I give you what you want and you have ten years to enjoy it."

Ivar's heart gave a huge leap in his chest. "What happens at the end of the ten years?"

"I keep your soul…” Y/N shrugged, assessing her sharp nails before looking at him and raising her left eyebrow, still with the crooked smile on her lips. “Which means that at the end of these years, you die. "

Ten years, thought Ivar. I always knew that I wouldn't live long, anyway. But...

"Usually?" He gave voice to his thoughts.

“I liked you, you seem to have courage... You were brave in trying to challenge me, stupid, but brave. I'll give you what you want, in exchange for... ”The woman seemed to think for a while. “… a kiss.”

"A kiss?" The young man thought surprised and in other words, extremely incredulous. With everything she could ask of him, she just wanted a kiss? The book should have been mistaken, it was impossible for this demon to be so dangerous if Ivar is the one that actually wins with the agreement between them.

"A simple and small kiss." She repeated, seeing his puzzled expression. "It's one kiss or your soul, you choose."

"We have an agreement, then." Ivar said.

"Great." Y/N smiled, making her eyes blood-red again.

She came over, put her hand on his neck and pulled him forward until their lips were timidly shocking at first, but quickly turning into a fleeting and toothy kiss, with their lips moving in sync and their tongues caressing one another. She tasted like danger... And it was a good taste.

When they pulled away, Y/N still had the smirk on her mouth when she snapped her fingers, causing him to make a huge cry.

He felt excruciating pain like never before, his legs seemed to be on fire, they burned so much, the pain was horrible. It felt like all of his fragile bones were breaking and growing, only to break again. Ivar fell to the ground screaming so loudly that his neighbors probably thought he was being murdered and would be ready to call the police at any moment.

It hurt, but it passed. Sweat ran down his face, his hands were shaking, his body was shaking. But when he got up again without the help of a crutch, he had never felt better, his legs were… healthy, normal, complete… healed.

"I- I can't believe this..."

"You have what you want, and I got what I want. "

Something about her facial expression seemed wrong, Y/N seemed too delighted just for the simple reward she had won.

"The kiss wasn't the only thing you wanted, was it?"

"No, it was not."

"We had an agreement! What do you-"

"Has anyone ever told you not to mess with things you don't understand?" She stroked his face, with a smirk on her lips. "Honey, you belong to me now."

#ivar lothbrok #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x reader #ivar x y/n #vikings imagines #vikings #son of ragnar #ivar imagines #ivar the boneless imagines #vikings fanfic #fanfiction #imagines #one-shots #female demon reader #demon reader #ivar ragnarsson x female reader #ivar x you

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pixieungerstories · 4 years ago

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The Captive - 2

“You are getting fat faster than your kind usually does,” George observed.

Elly gritted her teeth. “Maybe if I got to go out and exercise more it would be less of an issue.”

George rolled his shoulders and shook like a dog shedding water. “Of course you can leave! You can go anywhere you want, as long as you are back on the property by sundown.”

Elly shivered. “You ate my cat.”

“I don’t know what happened to your cat,” George protested. “Besides, it’s not like we have mice, what do you need a cat for?”

“Company?”

That made him snarl, “You are supposed to be here as MY company.”

Elly took a step back. George fought to get himself under control. “You just need time to get used to me, treasure, I’m sure we can-”

Elly turned and headed back to the stairs.

“Wait!” George commanded.

Elly paused on the bottom stair and waited, but she didn’t turn to look at him.

There was an award silence for a moment, then George blew out a stream of air through his nostrils. “You are right.”

She looked over her shoulder at him.

“I don’t remember your name.”

She turned to look at him, “I’m Elly.”

George nodded awkwardly. “You are going to need to remind me of that.” He paused for a moment then added, “Elly.”

“I’m the only person you talk to, George. Try harder.” With that, she headed upstairs to get ready for the day.

Ben was already in the kitchen, laminating puff pastry. “Soups today will be chicken and dumplings for the non vegetarians and french lentil as the vegan option.”

“Sounds good, Ben.”

“You ok, Boss?”

Elly smiled weakly at him, “I’m just a little tired.”

Ben grinned, “The storm kept you up too, huh?”

“Something like that.” Elly mumbled. “Now are you going to teach me to run the coffee maker or what?”

“What!” he announced triumphantly. “Go sit down, I’ll bring you a cappuccino.”

They had french toast and coffee together. Ben always made her breakfast, and technically lunch. It was just that they staggered their lunch breaks to cover for each other. He had given up on asking her out when she kept putting him off.

How do you explain to a guy that you can’t be out after dark and that he can’t stay over because the monster in the basement might eat him? Hell, she couldn’t even become that crazy isolated cat lady. George hadn’t ever admitted it, but for how guilty he had looked that first morning when she asked if he had seen Mittens, she was sure he was involved in the disappearance. She had put up signs anyway. No one had called.

“Elly?”

She blinked at looked up. “Sorry? You were asking me something.”

“I was,” he agreed frowning slightly at her. “But now I’m wondering if you just need the day off.”

She shook her head, “I don’t have anyone to cover for me.”

Ben leaned back in his chair. “Well, I can run the register and I’m pretty sure the Wednesday morning group could pretty much take care of themselves. You could always ask to see if any of them want a job as your emergency back up.”

Elly looked down at her plate, “I’m not exactly raking in the big bucks here, Ben. Honestly, after expenses, my take home is less than yours. The only reason I’m not folding is the free rent.”

“Shit,” Ben whispered under his breath. “I mean, I knew it was slow but…”

Elly just shrugged. “You bring in more customers than the yarn does these days.”

There was a long moment of awkward silence. “You know if we go out to dinner, I’ll pay, right?”

Elly’s head snapped up and she looked into a pair of worried brown eyes. She laughed, even if it was a bit on the bitter side. “Funny thing about that. There is a long standing clause in the title. I have to be on the property every day from dusk to dawn. I can’t go out to dinner with you without losing the business.”

“That doesn’t sound real, Elly,” Ben said softly.

Elly pursed her lips, “Do you have anything in the oven that will burn in the next, oh, say, ten minutes.”

Ben glanced at the clock, “three minutes on the cookies, then I’m all yours.”

Once the cookies were out cooling on the racks, Elly lead Ben up to the attic. “I hate it up here,” she explained. “It just feels creepy.”

Ben watched the light bulb flicker, “Bad wiring?”

Elly shook her head. “I insisted the place be rewired before I moved in. There was a fire that destroyed most of the property a hundred years ago. The rest was structurally unsound and had to be demolished. Somehow this survived,” she pointed at huge bronze plaque

Ben read for a moment. “Wait. The king bestowed this land upon your family in 1595. There wasn’t even a town here in 1595.”

Elly nodded sadly. “Look, it’s complicated, but-”

“Oh, come on!” Ben protested. “No one is going to take the farm if you go out for drinks with me!”

Elly looked at the floor and shivered. “The last time the owner of the house was out after dark, a fire burned down most of the house, and a good chunk of the town. People died.” She wanted to say more but she was aware this was sounding crazing all ready, so she turned and climbed down the ladder instead.

“You really believe that?” Ben asked from above her. Then he stumbled awkwardly and mostly fell out of the attic, barely catching himself on the ladder. He looked back up. “That was weird. It felt like something pushed me.”

“Come down!” Elly hissed.

“I have to go turn off the light,” Ben protested.

“Come down! You go bake; I’ll get the light!” she insisted.

The light turned itself off with a click.

“That was weird,” Ben commented. “Is it on a timer or something?”

“Just go, I’ll take care of it.”

Ben frowned at her. “Just think about taking a day off. Even if you have to be here after dark, you can at least go out and see a matinee. Get some fresh air. Something.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Ben watched her for a moment then turned and left. Elly went back up the ladder. She noticed the switch was firmly pointed down and therefore off. “I have enough issues to deal with. If you want me to be here, you leave him alone.” Then she stepped down to the second floor and pushed up the ladder and went back downstairs to have another coffee and set about her day.

----

“Come here.”

“I don’t think so. I’m fine over here.”

George rolled his eyes then he heaved himself to his feet, “I can come to you, but you are much more nimble than I am.”

Elly grabbed tightly on the hand rail, “Sit down. I don’t want you close to me!”

George froze, “I want to see your face. Hold the lantern up then.”

“Why do you care what I look like?” Elly sulked but she did as she was told.

“The boy thinks you are unwell.”

“And?”

“I do not want you to be unwell,” George said patiently.

Elly snorted. “Why does it matter? I can’t leave.”

“Neither can I,” George growled. “That is the arrangement. I do not leave and hunt you. You do not leave and abandon me. You promise to keep me fed and I promise to keep you wealthy. I am holding up my end of the deal, treas- Elly-” he stressed her name, “you aren’t exactly -”

“I am HERE!” Elly snapped. “I gave up my life and my love to be here. I did that. I am here. I don’t have to be happy about it.”

George fell silent and sagged.

Elly watched him looking for the trick.

“If the boy makes you happy, he can stay. I just don’t want you coming home smelling like him.”

“What?”

“Don’t fuck him,” George quailified.

Elly blinked, “You don’t actually think I’m a virgin, do you?”

George made a sound of disgust. “Go. I am done talking to you now.” He huffed out a stream of steam and turned his back on her. Elly fled.

----

It was sometime after midnight when Elly sat bolt upright out of a dead sleep. She had forgotten to feed George. She had been angry about not being able to take the day off and then he reminded her she was trapped. She had been dismissed before she had organized his dinner. In theory, he would be ok if he didn’t eat for a few days.

But.

Mittens.

Shit.

She hauled herself out of bed and trudged down the stairs to the shop, then down more stairs to the basement.

The kettle and her cup and saucer was sitting on the walnut table next to the chair. The room was dark, no electricity down here. How would she ever get an electrician in? Tonight though, there was no faint glow coming from George. She held the lantern up over her head, but the darkness just sucked the light away.

No dragon.

“George?” Her voice echoed. The basement shouldn’t be big enough for that. Then she realized that if he was asleep, maybe waking him wasn’t the best idea. She crept carefully forward. Nothing. She looked over her shoulder and was relieved she could still see the light coming from the doorway at the top of the stairs. She took a few more steps and found a leather couch with deep button tucks that seemed to match the chair. Holding the lamp up over her head she could see a large stone arch way further ahead. Through it there was only darkness. Elly swallowed and tried to listen for the sound of George’s breathing.

Then her nerve broke and she sprinted for the stairs.

#exophilia #dragon boyfriend #novel #free fic friday

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edna-skiffens · 4 years ago

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Calm in the Storm - 3.1K

Calm in the Storm / Harrison Osterfield

Summary: You’re terrified of storms and your friendly neighbor, Harrison, comes over to help you stay calm.

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: fluff, sarcasm and cuteness, storms is guess

A/N: This is an excerpt from a fic I’m working on but may never finish. Ha. (But if it ever does get finished then act surprised when it reappears, possibly slightly different.) LMK if you like it and would be interested in a slow burn, college AU fic. :)

Another crack of thunder roared in the skies, sending a shiver down my spine and a scream from my lips. Call me a wimp if you want. I hate storms. Capital ‘H’ Hate them.

What makes this situation even worse is it being late at night and the meteorologist saying that it won’t let up for hours. The wind is howling, the eerie sound of the flood warning is going off and they tell us of trees down on numerous roads. Apparently half the county is out of power, but thankfully we still hav-

With a flicker of light I’m plunged into darkness, wishing I could’ve knocked on wood sooner.

I think I might have screamed again. I’m not even sure. I just know that I really don’t appreciate Mother Nature tonight.

There’s a rapid knock at my door which evokes the third scream from my lungs this evening; I’m going to lose my voice.

I creep my way to the door, careful to not give away my presence in case it’s a serial killer. They are the only ones out in this weather, right? I mean, that’s what the movies make you believe.

I shouldn’t answer. I’ll just wait here until they go away and they’ll never know someone was in here. But what if it’s someone lost in the storm? I can’t leave them out there. But that’s probably what the serial killer wants me to think.

The knocking starts again, causing me to jump and cover my mouth so my squeal won’t give away my position.

“Y/N, open up. It’s Harrison.”

Harrison? Why doesn’t he go to his own apartment upstairs? At least it’s not a serial killer. God, I hope.

I open the door to see a soaked and slightly irritated Harrison, flashlight in hand. “What took you so long? I knocked twice.” He huffed as he brushed past me and inside the dark apartment. “God, don’t you own any candles. You know the power is out?” I’m starting to regret letting him in as he blabbers on, but I answer anyway.

“Yes, I obviously know the power is out. I haven’t had time to gather any candles.” I answer while fiddling with the flashlight on my phone to find any element of light I could use. “And I was scared,” I admitted in a much softer tone and volume, “I had to make sure you weren’t a serial killer.”

His laugh makes me jump much like the thunder had. “Are you serious? You thought I was a serial killer?”

“Well not you, you. But it could have been a serial killer at my door. It’s storming something horrible outside, that’s how it always happens!” I try to rationalize my thinking.

“God, Y/N. You do realize you don’t live in a Lifetime movie.” He laughs with a much lighter tone. I just roll my eyes, realizing that any other response will result in an endless cycle of teasing at this rate.

“Why are you here any way?”

“Well, I heard your screaming from my apartment and wanted to make sure you were okay.” My heart swoons for a moment, until he continues his thought. “I mean, I had to come protect you from all the serial killers out in this storm..” I whack him with my arm as he cackles, resembling something of a demented monkey.

“Very funny. I don’t like storms, okay?”

“But why?”

“I don’t know? Why are you so funny looking?”

Great comeback. One for the books.

He only rolled his eyes, sensing that I wasn’t in the mood. And we both knew that I was lying because he was far from funny looking.

“Well don’t be scared. You’re safe with me.” He smiled at me in the dim light and we stared for a moment before he continued. “Okay, okay. Let me see what I can do to help.” He said while hanging up his raincoat and walking away, flashlight in hand.

I found all the candles I owned and the two battery powered lamps. I gathered them together in my living room when Harrison joined me.

“I called the power company. They said the better parts of three whole counties are out of power and the storm isn’t even over yet.”

I let out something between a groan and a whine, not caring how much of a child I was acting like. “What does that mean?”

“It means it could be awhile before we get power back, maybe even all night.” He gave me a soft smile before continuing “We best buckle down.”

Every time a particularly loud clap of thunder roared I couldn’t help but jump. I felt so tense. It was growing increasingly annoying and I think Harrison even picked up on it because he stopped teasing me about my fear of storms.

“Let’s do something to distract you.”

“What?”

“Clearly, you’re terrified. Why? I don’t understand. But still, you are so let’s do something.”

“Well what would you suggest? We don’t have power, we don’t have a great source of light, we-“

“Have a bundle of pessimism from the lovely lady on the right.” He mocked in an overdone voice.

I rolled my eyes, trying to reign in my sass before apologizing. “What would you suggest?” I could tell he didn’t actually have a plan by the way that his eyes scanned my apartment, but they suddenly stopped signaling a thought.

“Go and gather all of your blankets and sheets and quilts for me.”

“Harrison.”

“Just do it.”

I decided to just listen to him and collect his requests, letting the focus of the tasks distract me from the storm. When I re-entered the living room he had chairs and barstools from my kitchen placed in a sporadic pattern. Seeing my puzzled face, he turned to me with a smile.

“We’re making a blanket fort!”

“Oh my gosh.” I deadpanned.

“What? What could you possibly have against a blanket fort?”

“Nothing. I used to make them all the time when I was little.”

“So what’s so bad?”

“I made them when I was little.”

“Well what’s wrong with being young every now and then?”

“I mean, I don’t know.” I replied after a moment of thought.

“Exactly. Now put those down and help me move the candles. If we burn this place down it’ll be a much bigger mess tomorrow.” He laughs and I find myself laughing too.

“Speaking of mess, you’re helping me clean this up in the morning.” Without realizing it, I think I just insinuated that he was staying the night. Or did I? He could leave then simply come back in the morning. Stop overthinking everything, Y/N. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, I guess.

“Aye, Aye, Captain.”

We spent some time working on the fort, the storm never dying down, but my fear of it moved to the back of my mind with a new focus on creating a masterpiece.

Per Harrison’s suggestion, we hung the larger sheets from my ceiling fan. He had to stand on my stools to reach them while I provided light and was ready incase he fell.

“How am I supposed to catch you if you fall? I feel like we would both get hurt in that situation.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’d never hurt you.” He looked down with a wink. “Plus. I’m not going to fall.”

“Oh really? You’re that confident huh?”

“No. Well.. yes, but I mean I’m done.” He turns around narrowly on the stool and smiles widely.

He hopped down and surveyed the area before we agreed on connecting the sheets to the taller bar stools and two, currently useless, floor lamps. The kitchen chairs were then used to bring the sheets up just high enough for us to comfortably sit up in.

“Hey, can you grab something to anchor these sheets? They keep slipping off the chairs.”

“Yeah. One second.” Grabbing a flashlight as a guide I searched for things I thought would be useful before returning to Harrison. “Okay I brought some books that could be weights for the sheets. More ponytail holders to tie them together because we are running low. And some fairy lights from my bookshelf.” I smiled proudly, “I forgot they were battery powered.”

“Great.” I handed him the books and he stopped to observe them in the dim lighting. “Of Mice and Men, The Grapes of Wrath, Great Expectations, A Tale of Two Cities, The Complete Works of Shakespeare?”

“Yes?” He looked up at me with a tilted gaze before shaking his head with a smile.

“Nothing.”

“No. What.”

“You’re always holed up in your apartment reading or studying. Which is fine. But it’s okay to have some adventures outside of these pages, you know.”

“What’s the point in that when I could be working towards my future?”

“To have fun.”

“I have fun. I have my own fun.”

“I have no doubts about that, sweetheart. I’m just saying you don’t know what you’re missing. If you’d let yourself loose every once in a while you’d discover there is a lot more than your type of fun.”

“I don’t like to waste my time. But, the power is out and reading in the dark gives me a headache and it’s scary outside so.. Here we are.”

“Here we are.”

We got to work finishing the fort. I grabbed soft blankets and pillows for cushion support on the floor. Harrison draped the fairy lights across the top for ambiance. We brought the two battery powered lanterns I had into the corners for light, too wise to bring a candle inside all of this fabric. We made ourselves comfortable with snacks and battery powered flashlights, leaning back against the pillows, taking in our work of art.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d say this is a pretty great creation.”

“Oh? Are you a blanket fort aficionado?”

“Maybe I am and I kept that from you. Would that hurt your feelings?”

I took a second to pretend I was pondering the thought, “No.”

His laugh brought a smile to my face involuntarily. Before I knew it I was laughing with him. As the contagious laughter died down another crack of thunder shook the building, erasing my smile immediately.

Harrison must’ve noticed. He simply raised his flashlight against the blanket roof and started making figures with his hands, coming up with elaborate stories for each character. I wanted to act mature and roll my eyes at another childish gesture, but he had my giggling and I couldn’t help notice his smile as well.

When his story time ended I gave him an applause that led into a moment of silence before another loud crack of thunder. It seemed to be getting worse outside. I rolled onto my stomach, hiding my face in the pillow, trying to escape somewhere calm..

Suddenly, there was a noise repeatedly slamming against the front of my apartment. I jumped again with wide eyes, into a type of plank position as if I was ready to army crawl away from whatever was out there making this noise. “What. Is that?”

“Relax.” Harrison placed a hand on my back attempting to soothe me, “I’m pretty sure it’s your porch swing slamming against the building. The wind must be picking up. Here, I’ll take care of it.”

He crawled over me to exit the fort before I heard my front door open and shut. A moment later I hear him enter again, muttering a few curses under his breath.

“Thank you. What did you do?”

“I unhooked one of the chains so its resting slanted on the ground.”

“Oh. Well that seemed to work. Thank you.” I smiled sheepishly, taking in his wet clothes. The wind could be heard whistling outside and my mind was back on the storm. If he got that drenched from under the awning it must really be coming down out there. Another roll of thunder shook the apartment, tensing my body. “So if you have any ideas for how to stop the thunder I’m all ears.”

“I think you need another distraction, neighbor.”

“Okay, well we’ve made the fort and watched your shadow puppet show. Now what?”

He sat thoughtfully for a moment, trying to come up with something in the days of television and internet. “Is your computer charged?”

“It should be. I keep it plugged in. We don’t have internet though.”

“That’s fine. Go grab your laptop and your favorite DVD.” I grabbed my phone, turned on the flashlight and left to collect the few items in mind.

“I noticed you got kind of wet outside so I thought you might want to borrow this sweatshirt to stay warm.”

“Oh thanks.” I handed him the oversized sweatshirt from our school and opened my laptop, smiling because it was at 100% battery. “What’d you pick?” glancing back at him I noticed he was mid-change and his abs were literally shining from the rainwater and lamplight. Oh my. Attempting to focus back on his question, I didn’t say any words, only smiling as I showed him the cover of the DVD case to Beauty and the Beast, animated version. “Really?”

“It’s only the best movie ever.”

“Oh is it now?”

“Well that or Tangled. Hard to choose.”

“Who knew that Miss Y/L/N was a Disney fanatic?”

“Who isn’t?”

“Well, okay. I said you could pick.” I let out a tiny shrill of excitement while placing the DVD in the player and got situated on my stomach. Harrison followed suit, though I’m not sure if he was as excited.

Throughout the movie I held in my desire to sing along, but I couldn’t hold back my adoration and wonder throughout the movie. It doesn’t matter how many times I see the same movie, it never gets old.

“I see why you like this” He spoke up during the scene where Beast showed Belle his library. I loved this part.

“How so?”

“You’re like Belle in many ways. You’re such a bookworm.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, other ways too. I don’t know. I just see it.”

I smiled to myself taking in the compliment; at least I took it as a compliment. “Thank you.”

Somewhere towards the end of the movie I felt myself grow drowsy and made myself more comfortable. I didn’t expect myself to fall asleep, but I must have because when I woke up sometime later Harrison was still wide awake and watching Tangled.

“Well this is a sight to see.” I spoke through the grogginess of sleep, clearly surprising him.

I glanced at the screen to see it was the scene where Repunzel and Flynn Ryder entered the festival in the village; my favorite.

“I like this movie.”

“I like Flynn Ryder.”

“It reminds me of us.” Harrison seemed to be continuing his statement. I looked away from the two dancing on screen to give him a drowsy, yet puzzling look.

“How so?”

“She’s been in her tower her whole life. He helps her break out and takes her on these wild adventures. She’s a little nervous, though she knows deep down it’s what she wants to do. She finally experiences the world. And they have fun.” And fall in love. “You don’t see the parallels?”

“Uhm, now that you mention it, I guess I do.”

We watched the rest of the movie in mostly silence until it ended with my laptop warning of low battery. Harrison closed it and pushed it away as I tried to keep my eyes open.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For tonight. For distracting me. For the fun. For the porch swing. For everything.”

He simply smiled while settling in, himself. “Of course.”

This time I knew I was drifting into sleep, but I welcomed it.

When I woke up my eyes stayed closed. I felt someone’s fingers gently brushing the side of my face, moving my hair behind my ear. I faked sleep a few moments longer, enjoying Harrison’s touch before I let my eyes slowly flutter open and feeling his hand pull away.

“Good morning.” He greeted me.

“Morning.”

“It seems as though the storm has stopped. I think we are going to live.” He smiled. “Just some light rain to deal with today.”

I smiled back at him, the effects of sleep fading from me slowly. “Thank you.”

“You already thanked me last night.”

“I know, but I felt like doing it again.”

“Well, you’re welcome again.”

We sat in silence for a few moments and I tried to fight off the sweet thoughts of sleep that were luring me back in. Suddenly the news could be heard on the television, the lights shined above our heads and little noises could be heard everywhere.

“Looks like the power is back.” He enthused.

“Looks like it. I guess we should get to cleaning this up.”

Harrison made no effort to move but let out a chuckle instead.

“What?”

“It's okay to lay here for a bit.”

“I know. But I need to charge my phone and-”

“And the world can wait.”

“Yeah but I didn’t get anything done last night so I should really-”

“I am sure it’ll get done.”

“But-”

“But nothing. It’s okay to take a minute for yourself. The world isn’t burning down outside. Well.. actually I haven’t looked since last night. Maybe we should check.”

“Haz!”

“I’m kidding! My point is it’s okay to relax or to have fun. Enjoy others’ company.”

I gave him a small smile and settled back into our makeshift bed on the ground. The television, lights and rumblings faded away along with the thoughts of any responsibility.

“You don’t have to be so responsible all the time.”

“I just want to be productive with my time.”

To that he responded with a light chuckle. When I gave him a puzzled look he answered, “You know, you are scared of thunderstorms, you love Disney movies, I finally convinced you to build a blanket fort with me, but you still try to act so mature. I see you, Y/N. You don’t have to keep up the act. I told you, you’ll always be safe with me.”

We laid there for a little while longer until we decided to finally clean up the place. He left soon after and the guilt of wasted time rushed in. I decided to charge my phone and laptop while throwing out all the now-spoiled food. I heard my phone alert me with a text message, shortly after it turned on.

Harrison:

Look what I found. Just for you.

My heart fluttered at the sweet sentiment and the thoughtful picture. Maybe some storms aren’t so bad after all.

----------

A/N: Let me know what you think! :) And follow if you liked it.. I’m new but have a lot more planned.

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfeild imagine #harrison osterfeild x reader #fluff #harrison osterfield one shot #y/n #y/n insert #self insert #self-insert #y/n use #writing #my writing #tale teller #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield x y/n #college au

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2lim3rz · 4 years ago

Text

Lord of the Night, Why I Love It And Why I Connect To It [Super Long]

To Preface This: Spoilers. So much spoilers. Also rambling tangents.

Aka oops, 1441 words lol

You’re first started off with the image if a primal man. A feral man. Zso Sahaal is hardly human in the first chapter as he goes buckass wild on the thieves that stole the Corona Nox. Already, I was sucked into a new world. A world about a man who just wants his inheritance. Who lives in the past even when he knows he’s in the future. The world of Zso Sahaal, brutal, cunning, and merciless in his killings. All you know is that someone close to him was dead and that xenos took the Corona Nox from him.

And then you get to Mita Ashlyn, a psyker meditating in her cell where she foresees [well, really sees the past 2 hours] of some vague vision. You learn she’s pretty stalwart in her ways from the get-go and had a very accomplished, daresay even comfortable for an interrogator, with her previous master before she was and Mita was picked up by Inquisitor Kaustus. An Ordo Xenos Inquisitor with a very good reputation who seems to had odd mood swings. Chillingly cold one moment and smiling the next. His soul, to Mita’s pov, is a locked off and cold lantern

She assumes it’s just because of tricks the Ordo has taught him, despite the odd flashes of thought and emotion she gains sometimes. Of course, Mita doesn’t get along with Kaustus too well. She’s mocked by him even and her only closest companion is an Abhuman named Cog. Cog reminds me a lot of Lonnie from Of Mice and Men, simple and just wanting to live his best life. I love Cog. And though Mita treats him almost like a dog, she cares about him.

Of course, the story goes on and I’ma talk about Zso Sahaal first. Zso Sahaal meets Pahvulti [Love the lil shit] and eventually meets a sort of clan of VERY devout to the Emperor people called the Shadowkin after he destroys the Glacier Rats’ hideaway. They’re sneaky and not very well liked in the Underhive, but they don’t quite care. Of course, they see Zso as the Emperor’s angel and, after unwittingly killing their leader, Zso meets a woman named Chianni who’s their newfound leader

Following Zso was a confusing aspect. Well, not really, but it was surprising to see his reasoning. His methods were brutal, but.. well he does know of other ways, but in a way, it’s all he knows. It’s all he remembers from Konrad Curze. The scant moments he lets himself slip to memory even. And then he’s grappling with, unwittingly, his own fall into Chaos. At least, until he’s reawoken in a sense. Having broken free of it.

With a much clearly mind, Zso starts achieving his plans, unwittingly playing into his enemies’s hands. Unwittingly, his closest companion of his ‘empire’ is one of his betrayers. He even grows attatched to his ‘empire’ before realizing he has to cut himself off of it.

It all comes to one big culmination when he’s finally rams into the Governor’s like.. collection area to get the Corona Nox when it’s revealed that Kaustus is controlled by Eldar, Eldar shows up, but I think the most profound thing happens when Mita and him are in Zso’s.. mind..?

“I hate a being so sick, so certain of his own brilliance, so twisted by the call of glory, that he repays the greatest sacrifice of all with betrayal!” and ”He sacrificed his humanity, child.” And suddenly his voice was so melancholic, so deep and so calm, so bloated by sadness” juST Zso Sahaal hurts, he hurts and he finally releases it all to Mita. The truth of himself, in a way, even. And then when he sees what has truly happened to the Legion he once.. I wanna say loved. The battle-brothers he once knew and cared for, and the ones he scorned like Krieg, he’s hurt. I can’t remember if he even cries but either way, Zso grieves, even as his arm is torn off and Krieg tells him how Konrad fell to chaos before his focus

His focus, the only thing Zso had faith in. Focus. Discipline. Controlling himself. And that’s maybe why I relate to him so much. Because, and I know this is stupid to say, but its all too easy to find yourself slipping to emotion. Being happy and excitable is fun until your all too scatter brained to even drive straight. Focus. Something that’s easy to tell yourself but hard to execute. Focus. A thing that even Zso Sahaal struggled with, even though it’s his biggest strength. Even when all has fallen from his hands and he has.. honestly, not much to live for, he rescues the only one that has been true to him, even if she was his enemy. Mita Ashlyn.

Which leads me to my next topic, Mita! You’re introduced to her and, honestly, I thought she was bullied throughout the book. Kaustrus is downright rude to her most times and so is his retinue, in fact, everyone’s kinda putting her down just because she’s a psyker. Maybe not the strongest, but certainly of some note. In my opinion, Mita is explosive. She has a temper, and quick to anger. She’s dead set on eliminating Zso Sahaal, wisely, because of the threat he brings to them all.

She’s focused and determined on her goals and willing to see them through even if it kills her. Going so far as to go renegade against the Inquisition for this threat. And then she realizes something throughout the book.

She’s looking in a mirror.

Power, ambition, the fortitude to survive and thrive, the anger and sadness.

She and Zso Sahaal are one in the same. Even down to their goals, opposite as they are.

They want the best for the Imperium. They want the best for humankind.

And I just, just absolutely LOVE how Mita’s crisis of Faith went. Her one thing tying her to the Imperium this entire time was the hope, just the barest thread of hope that maybe just maybe the Emperor loves her. That someone in the entire galaxy cares about her [though this is mainly prevalent after Cog’s death, someone who did genuinely care about her even if it was mostly a literal feral brain going !! pretty woman! Wonderful mom of possible children!] that would actually give a single damn if she died fulfilling her duty

Until Zso reveals the truth. That the Emperor doesn’t care. That he only cared about the whole of the Imperium and not one single fuck is given to the little people. The only ones he cared about was if they were doing their job right. Zso tells it to her brutally straight.

And Mita realizes he’s right. And that brings me to my final statement;

Both of them let go and free themselves. Both of them only save each other through each other.

Both Zso and Mita had something quite literally holding them back. For Zso Sahaal, it was the warp’s touch and then it was his cracking hope that maybe his Legion is alright; when he lets go of that when he finally gets the truth that his Legion is as damned as the rest, instead of joining he fights to the end for his beliefs. For Mita Ashlyn, it was that the thought that someone loved her, even if it was their God. Her faight was her chains shackling her power.

“The Emperor does not give me my power. My tutors lied! It is my own!”

And that is how I relate to Mita. Instead of religious faith pulling her down, for me it was my own belief that my own happiness only stemmed from others. If someone else was happy, then I was! It was not until recent that I realized no. I can bring my own happiness. I can let go and be free to be happy.

Lord of the Night taught me that sometimes, you need to let go of the thing you hold onto most. The thing that anchors you so tightly to something you didn’t even know.

And THAT is what I love the most. That even though Zso Sahaal curses and seethes at the thought of Mita Ashlyn [as she does likewise], they both are such a wonderful mirror of each other in different ways. Two sides of the same coin. That, even though they were mortal enemies, they found [in a way] solace and freedom with each other.

And that is why I recommend Lord of the Night by Simon Spurrier. A wonderful book!

Ave Dominus Nox and Ave Imperator!

#warhammer 40k #lord of the night #mita ashlyn #zso sahaal #night lords #warhammer 40k books #2lim3rz book ramble

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oxylillikay · 5 years ago

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Secret Sanders

Here’s my gift for the exchange, I do so hope you enjoy!

@whatschooldoesntteachyou @secret-sanders-sized

The air was cool from the rain storm that just ended, and the sound of dripping water echoed through the cave Virgil called home. With irregular breathing he opened his eyes. I’m awake … again. With my hands shaking I try and turn on my side. Why am I awake? Looking to the cave’s wall in view I focus on the water drops falling from a ridge in the roof.

My hands are shaking and my heart is pounding. My eyes are burning. My throat is closing up. If it closes up I can’t breathe. Am I breathing? I am. I’m breathing too quickly… why are there blackspots? Right breathe. I need to stop but I can’t stop. It hurts. Breathing hurts. Pain. I don’t want it. My eyes are burning.

Oh. I’m crying.

Why is there pain? My body is shaking. So is my hands. Am I breathing? I am it hurts. Why? Pain. Panic. Pain and Panic that’s funny. Sound echoes in the cave. Shh! I have to be quiet! Panic… I hate the letter P; Pain Panic Past… that’s right I was remembering or was I dreaming. Why? I hurt. The blackspots are getting bigger and now the room is moving. Why is it moving?

‘Virge?’ I woke him… no.

‘I’m sssorry!’ I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

‘Virge, the rain has ssstopped’ The rain?

‘Let’s go sssee the sssky’ Deceit.

‘Virge, I’m going to pick you up now’ Deceit is safe.

I look up into his eyes. His eyes are kind… Deceit is nice. My bott0m lip starts to tremble. I want to be held. Please hold me. His yellow gloved hands reach towards me. Gently they move around me until I’m cupped protectively inside them. I’m growing but I still fit into just one of his palms. One day I’ll be big enough that I’ll take up both of his palms. I think so, Deceit also said so too. My head feels too heavy to hold up so I lean in the direction of his chest. He moves his cupped hands until I’m actually lying against his chest. ‘There’sss my little one’

Deceit is safe.

Deceit slithers out of our cave into the night air ‘Hmms sssuch a beautiful night to have a sssnack’ He lifts me up to his face and with two very precise brushes of his tongue licks away my tears. ‘Perfect’ I smile to myself at his antics ‘What thisss? You don’t think I’ll eat you?’ A yellow gloved finger maneuver its’ way to my side as it tries to poke me. I curled into the fingers I’ve been laying against. I’m not worried in the slightest of being eaten. Deceit is lying and I know he is. He’s been saying he is going to eat me since he found me. But the tirade has become a comfort like someone saying I love you. I think it’s the same.

I must have been very young. All I can recall is fragmented parts. Letting myself slip into that time when I first met him I curl tighter into myself.

We were going somewhere but where? I must have been sleeping when it happen. The carriage was on its side. A wheel was spinning. It was making such awful sounds as it rubbed against the carriage. It was really dark so it was nighttime but there was light… right? Yes. The lantern was broken and was burning. What happened to the animals? What did mama called them? Hor-horsies! They were gone.

And mama…

‘Mama Wake up!’ Mama had blood on her that means she’s hurt. ‘Mama I kiss booboo and y-you wake up!’ Lots of blood… so much. Was I hurt? No. Mama still didn’t get up. ‘Mama wakes up! Pwease?’

‘Mama I hewlp. You stay. I hewlp you’ I got up and started looking for something… something I don’t remember what for. I walk away from mama to the fire. I walked past the fire into the woods. I know I didn’t get far because I could still see the light. I heard something move.

‘Hewlp! Someone pwease mama hurt!’

‘My what do we have here?’

‘Who that?’

‘Jussst harmless me’

‘Mama hurt’

‘Your mama hurt?’

‘Mama won’t wake up. Pwease hewlp!’

‘Ah. I underssstand’ My eyes were blurry and I rubbed them until they cleared. The trees all around me started moving. The whole forest was coming alive! Looking up a shadow grew! Then it had a head! And arms! And then in the firelight I saw a face! And then hands… with claws! They reaches at me spread wide like tree branches! ‘No!’ I ran and hid underneath a giant log. I scoot as far back as I could. I was scared. Those hands were huge! The… giant? He moved closer. One of his eyes glowed! He got even closer! All I could see was his face! ‘Hsss pesssky little thing aren’t you?’ I hid my face in my arms. I didn’t want to see the giant anymore. Mama… oh no! Mama was still hurt! ‘Mama’ I sniffled some and tried to clear my eyes. I was crying. ‘Now where’sss that little morsssel?’ Whimpering I curled up hoping he couldn’t get me. But then my hiding spot moved! The whole log moved up and then back behind me further! Those scary claws got me. They put me right in front of the giant’s face. I was so scare that I cried even more! ‘Don’t eat me’

‘Don’t eat you? But you look delishousss!’ I looked down and saw the giant had a snake tail and it covered the whole forest! The giant was a snakeman! ‘You can’t eat me!’

‘Hsss and why not?’

‘Cuz… you’re… a snake! And… and snakes eat mice! Not me!’

‘Hmms but I’m not all snake now am I? And I most certainly eat little morsssels like you’ Snakeman licked the whole side of me. ‘And you tassste delishousesss too!’

‘N-No! I don’t wanna be eaten!’ The snakeman licked my whole other side and I cried so hard. I could’ve drown in my own tears! ‘To be’

‘W-wat?’

‘I. don’t. want. To be eaten.’ I looked up and into the snakeman eyes. One of them still glowing and the other so dark. ‘I… I don’t want to… be eaten! …pwease?’ The snakeman smiled. He moved me away from his face. He drop me on the ground. The snakeman moved over me and I ducked down. The snakeman’s body was right over me like a roof! The firelight made it look shiny. Like metal! But then the firelight was gone and the snakeman moved. ‘If you’re not a morsssel then what are you?’ The snakeman moved so he was looking down at me. ‘I’m a boy!’

‘I meant what I shall call you?’ he was so tall! ‘Umm Virge?’

‘Virge? Just Virge?’

‘Yup’ the snakeman reach down with those claws. I tried to back away while still looking up and tripped. He picked me up. I tried to move out of those scary claws but he dropped me in his other hand. ‘Virge, little one, your mother… isss in a speshial sssleep’

‘Mama hurt and won’t wake up’

‘That’sss right, mama wasss too hurt to wake up’

‘But… I kissed her owies better…right?’ I don’t want to look at snakeman. I don’t want to be in his hand. I don’t want to be here. I want… ‘I want mama’

‘I can’t give you your mother but maybe there’sss sssomething elssse you’d like?’ I can’t have mama. What do I want? ‘To…To go home?’ I look up at snakeman. Hoping to go home. Snakeman looks like he’s thinking. ‘Home. To go home. I sssuppossse I could take you home’

‘Reawy?’ The snakeman took off his funny looking hat. Then he put me on his head. ‘For now little Virge stay here’ his hair was soft and tickled a bit. I looked up as he put his hat back on! I couldn’t see anything then! I moved this way and that way so I lied down. It was warm and his hair was comfy. So I went to sleep.

I can’t remember anything that happens right after that. Deceit told me he took me back here to his home and I tried to argue with him about it. I understand now why he brought me here. To home. It’s just us here in this vast forest. ‘Virge? Won’t you come back to the dark?’ Blinking, I watch as that same gloved finger prods the side of my leg. It’s hard not to smile at his antics. I can’t remember my father and only recall calling my mother mama. But it doesn’t matter because Deceit is the one whose here. ‘Sssorry I had a nightmare’

‘Ssso you did but are you well now?’

‘Yeah az long az a sssnakeman doesn’t eat me’

‘Oh I don’t know… you look delishousss’

Deceit leaned in close and nuzzled Virgil with the utmost care. Such brief affection and then Deceit slithered back into their cave where he curled up back in bed. But this time, he had Virgil protectively held against his chest. His heartbeat a constant chant against remembered demons lulled Virgil back to sleep.

#naga deceit #kid virgil #blood #ssssssss #lillilkay.write #kids pov is hella hard #secret sanders sized #sander sides

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thelittlehansy · 5 years ago

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Prince hans and the disney princess ( part 2)

Rapunzel

- both have have controlling parental figure who makes them dependant on them and feel less of themselve. ( rapunzel think she is a naive little flowers and the world is dangerous and she should only listen to her mother , hans thinks he is useless and wortless and need to prove to his abusive's father that he can be pround of him )

- both wants freedom from their home but are also obedient to their parental figure.rapunzel wants to see the lantern but is conflict by disobeying to her mother. Hans wants to be free from his family but at the same time wants to his father to be proud of him.

- both their parents reprimand them about how they talk Gothel told rapunzel how she hates when she is mumbling and find it annoying. the king of the southern isles often scolds Hans for not getting to the point.

MOANA

- this one is less obvious , both love the sea ? Hans is pictured several times as a admiral so maybe he likes the ocean a lot ? and well , moana is know to adore the ocean.

- moana also belong with hans to this very privilege class of disney character who have both their parents alive.

Anna

- both ignore by their sibling. Hans 3 of his brothers anna her sister but it was to protect her.

- both , parents are the reason sibling treat them bad. Anna it was her parents's bad decision that took the sister apart. Hans his father manipulate his son into the motto " westergraad are lion not mices" who makes them bully their youngest brother ( told in a frozen heart )

- both grew up feeling lonely

- both like to sing duet ? 🤔

- both apparently love crazy and says crazy things

- both loved sandwiches 😋 and chocolate 😋

- maybe both just loved food ? 🤨

- this one is a headcanon both like looking at the stars in the sky.

- both feel like a spare hans is only the 13th in line to the trone and for anna “lucky you this is just me” she even was going to have a song how she feels she is just a spare.

Mulan

- both have the same weapon of choice : sword.

Snow white

- grew up with a unloving parental figure

- both share a flaw that i absolutely despise in both of them : both can be bossy and authoritarian. snow white is bossy with the dwarfs and hans in order to prove that he is not a child but someone that they need to take seriously in arendelle he has a need to show how bossy an authoritarian he can be. Since its works his reasoning is that he need to thanks his brother next time he saw them. ( show in a frozen heart )

Pochaontas

- both belongs to movies who kind of have love triangle.

Elsa

- both are regal and sophisticated

- both saw maybe themselve as monster ?

- both have to deal with anxiety issues. elsa due to her powers , hans due to his stressful environmentnt.

- both feel lonely

#prince hans #rapunzel #moana #elsa #elsa of arendelle #pochaontas #anna of arendelle #frozen anna #tangled #snow white and the seven dwarfs #snow white #disney villains #disney #disney princess #disney movies #mulan #frozen #hans westergaard #hans of the southern isles

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kusunogatari · 5 years ago

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[ Tsukimono-Suji ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Uchiha Sachiko, Suigin Ryū, Hatake Kakashi, Nohara Rin ] [ Animal abuse, death ] [ Verse: River Runs Deep ]

He can still remember it like it was yesterday.

It was pouring. The streets were muddy, the sky so dark one would swear it was nearly nightfall, not midday. And he was alone, huddled behind a few steps leading up into one of the village’s raised houses. By now, he can’t recall what happened to his mother, father, siblings...or if he ever had them. All he remembers is being alone. It felt as though he’d always been alone.

And being a kitten all on one’s own is never easy.

Humans tended to be wary of cats, what with their superstitions. Bakeneko and their brethren nekomata had always been a great fear of theirs, along with all of the other yōkai that lurked in the shadows. Should a feline live too long, grow too large...then they believed it would turn into a monster capable of shifting to a human guise, speak, and even raise and puppeteer the dead. They even feared a cat with a long tail, seeing fit to dock them when young to help prevent the transformations.

But he didn’t know anything about that. All he knew was that he was wet, cold, muddy...and alone. Humans kept warmth in their homes with their fires...but they always chased him away. From then on, he’d been huddled along the outskirts of the village, stealing scraps and hiding away in places hidden from the humans that seemed to hate him.

It was there, under the furthest house up on the hill, that she found him.

The floor above him creaked, and the kitten stiffened, waiting to see if someone would find his hideaway and cast him out into the rain. A light bloomed in the growing darkness: a lantern held aloft by a wrinkled hand. Wearing tall geta to stay above the mud, she squinted out into the rain...and then, like some kind of knowing, she peered down under the house.

Scuttling backwards, he gave his best hiss, which was little more than a wisp. Black, matted hair stood on end, attempting to make himself look as big as he could!

“Oh, goodness...what a feisty little thing,” the old woman chuckled. Crouching as best she could, she slowly extended a hand. Within was a strip of fish.

Immediately, the potent smell reached his nose, and pupils widened in want as his belly clenched. He hadn’t had anything to eat that day, too bogged down by mud to properly search.

“Come on, now...can’t have you wasting away in the rain. You poor little thing…”

Torn between fear and hunger, the kitten hesitated for a long few minutes. And all the while, the old woman waited patiently.

In the end, however...hunger won out. Carefully, oh so carefully, he stretched his neck...and then snatched the prize, retreating back under the stairs to devour it whole.

“There we go...there’s more if you want.” Reaching into a satchel at her waist, the old woman held out another strip.

And so it went until he’d eaten his fill, little belly rounded and energy quickly spent digesting.

“Now...can we get you into the house…?” Very carefully, she made to reach for him.

At first, he attempted to flee, but between exhaustion and a full belly...he didn’t get very far. The wrinkled hand gently took his scruff, lifting him from the mud and setting him atop her knees. An apron then scooped him up, and into the house he was carried.

“Oh, you poor little thing...look at this mess!” Ignoring the kitten’s feeble cries of protest, she set him into a basket, beginning to warm some water over the fire. “A bath is what you need. And a combing. And look! Your tail is still long. What a lucky little thing you are. Now, don’t you worry...you’re safe here with Sachiko-bā. We Uchiha have always loved our cats…”

Huddled into a corner of the basket, he stared up with wide eyes. She hadn’t hurt him yet...but nor had a human ever done this, either. Was she going to eat him? Fatten him up and then boil him in a stew? Through the gaps in the wicker, he could see her heating a pot. Oh no...oh no!

“There...warm, but not too hot!” Removing the lightly-steaming water, Sachiko reached in and retrieved the little kitten, gently easing him into the bath.

At first, he flailed and he hissed and he sputtered! But then...oh...the warmth felt so nice...and the mud was washing away…!

Ever so carefully, a comb worked at the knots in his fur, and the little kitten went lax in the water, careful not to sink up to his nose or ears. Nearly sleeping, he let the old woman do as she pleased. And all the while, she hummed a little song, hands so nimble, so gentle.

“Oh, little kitten...so alone, so scared...what a thing it is to be abandoned. But you have a home now, little kitten. You and I will be good friends. You’ll catch the mice, and I’ll feed you fish! And keep you safe from all those nasty people who don’t know a noble creature when they see it…”

Silence fell again for a time before she began to muse aloud. “Now...only one thing left. What to call you, little kitten...for a kitten is what you are, not who. Hm…” Combing at his fur, she paused, and then chuckled. “Well...the first of you I touched was the scruff of your little neck. I think then...I’ll call you Obito.”

Utterly unaware, Obito didn’t fuss at the title. No one had given him a name before...but if this human was as kind as she appeared, it was one he would take gladly.

“Well, then...Obito it shall be. You just stay here with old Sachiko-bā. My son has gone to start a life of his own, and I’ve no daughter to pass on my talents...so I’m glad for the company. Yes, yes...we Uchiha have always loved our cats.”

Once he was clean and dried, Obito set about exploring his new surroundings. He’d never been in a house before...not properly. Snuck in a few times, poked around...and then been chased back out again. But Sachiko just watched him, eyes squinted with a smile that deepened her crow’s feet. As he stuck his nose into every crevice, she slowly went about tidying up, throwing out his bathwater into the already-flooded streets. They then shared a meal - Obito still full from his baiting bites before. And as was the custom for the eldery, she sank into sleep with the sun.

Making small circles on the edge of her blankets, he snuggled down...and joined her.

The next morning was sunny at last, puddles still shallow on the road. Early to rise, Sachiko went about making her breakfast while Obito was content in simply lounging on the fabrics, still warm.

The old woman just chuckled, watching him curl on his back with paws tucked. “What a character you are! Happy to have a bed, hm?”

Eyes closed in contentment, he began to purr.

“Bāchan!”

Startled, Obito flipped to his feet, eyes wide and fur bristled.

“Oh, now now...nothing to fear. We’re not the only misfits on the mountain, you and I,” Sachiko assured him, moving to the door. “Hello, dear! You’re here rather early.”

“I slept early cuz of the rain, so I thought I’d use the morning, bāchan!”

“You’re such a darling. Well, in that case, I won’t stop you. Just the usual please dear, if you would.”

“Mhm!”

Closing the door, Sachiko gave Obito a wink. “A little helping hand of mine. These bones are brittle and these muscles meek. She handles my garden and runs my errands for a share. Poor thing is called cursed...you’ll see why when she returns. But she’s a dear girl. In fact, I think I might…”

Fading into silence, Sachiko tottered back to her chores.

Obito, confused, simply sat and tilted his head. A cursed human? Curious…

The morning passed slowly, and by noon a knock was heard at the door. “Come in, dear! You must meet my new friend…!”

Shoes left behind, a girl of six or seven climbed curiously into the house. Grey eyes then moved to the corner, and widened. “...a cat…?”

“Yes...poor thing was drowning in the mud, all alone. He and I will be good friends, I’m sure.”

As the girl stared, Obito stared back. He’d never seen a human like her before. Watching her approach and carefully crouch, hugging her knees, he tilted his head.

Every inch of her was white as snow. Hair, skin, lashes, brows...even her eyes were a faint, light grey. She did indeed have a rather strange aura about her…

“Obito, this is Ryū-chan. She was left behind much like you. She’s my student, and my helper.”

“Obito…?” Ryū murmured, offering a hand. “...hello, Obito-kun.”

Wary and yet curious, he took slow steps forward, little nostrils flaring as he took in her scent: clean air, damp earth, and something...wild.

...they weren’t human smells.

“Are the bundles all tied up outside?”

“Yes, bāchan.”

“Oh good, good. Well, you know well what to do by now, hm?”

“Hai!”

“Then we’ll see you when you come back from the village.”

Smiling, Ryū took her leave, Obito scampering to the door to see what all the fuss was about. Tied up in bundles were all sorts of vegetables, which were then looped over a bamboo pole. Hefting it over her shoulders, Ryū started down the road toward the village at the bottom of the hill by the shore.

Sitting at the threshold, Obito’s tail flickered. And as Sachiko sat nearby, slowly wafting a fan against the humidity, he watched the road.

“Oh, don’t you worry. She’ll be back with our rice and our fish. As superstitious as those folks may be, they can’t refuse good trades. Nothing beats my vegetables.” She gave the cat a wink and a smile. “Grandma magic, hm?”

Obito’s head tilted.

...what strange humans.

Once the afternoon had aged, Obito curling up and having a nap, an ear flicked at the sound of sloppy footsteps. Head lifting, he saw the girl returning! Gone were the vegetables, replaced by bags of rice and strung fish.

Clearly tired, she gave a grin. “I-I’m back!”

“Good, good! Just in time for some supper, hm? Come, come! Oh...Ryū-chan, where are your sandals?”

“I lost them in the mud…” Lifting a caked foot, she shrunk sheepishly. “It’s okay...I go barefoot all the time, bāchan.”

“My, my...well, we’ll rinse you off and get you inside!”

Passing along the foodstuffs, Ryū spared a hand to gently scritch at Obito’s ears. “Hey, kitty!”

Immediately, the kitten gave a throaty purr.

And so it went. Day after day, the routine repeated. As the seasons changed, they adjusted. Ryū kept returning, receiving lessons of all sorts from the wise old woman. From mythos to basket weaving, from rites to knot tying: what plants were safe, how to prepare a fish, and how to start a fire from nothing.

One late Winter night, when the girl was curled up by the fire, Sachiko slowly stroked Obito’s fur, the young cat nestled atop her lap. “She makes for a fine apprentice,” Sachiko mused. “Soon, we can breach into the more important lessons. Things that shouldn’t be forgotten...the old ways.”

Ear twitching, Obito turned to look at the old woman curiously.

As always, she winked an eye. “People like us...we belong to both planes, Obito. We walk the line between them. We tsukimono-suji are both blessed, and cursed. My clan was once mighty...and now we are spread thin. My son is far from me, his wife a non-believer. I have no one to share my craft...to pass along my secrets and my little tsukimono. Only a girl can carry on the legacy. She’ll do well, I’m sure. For she, too, is not wholly of this world. Yūrei, they call her. Cursed, outcast...but she sees what they do not. Someday, Obito...you will pass from my care to hers. Do you understand?”

He didn’t. Not truly. He was young, then. Not yet old enough, wise enough, to realize what he was becoming as his long tail curled around his body.

“Well...there’s time, yet. I’m not so old as to leave now. I still have much to teach her. And you still have much growing to do, little bakeneko, before you’re ready to serve your mistress.”

Bakeneko…? He wasn’t a bakeneko! Just...an ordinary cat! Tsukimono-suji...ghosts, and monsters, and witches...none of it made any sense.

...but it would.

When he was five years old, Spring came with a vengeance. Grass grew quickly, trees burst into leaves, and prosperity seemed to reign. The seaside village was thriving, and things seemed...peaceful.

...for some.

Basking in the sun upon the front step waiting for Ryū to come, Obito was awakened by the sounds of footsteps. But rather than his mistress’ student...it was a group of boys, perhaps a few years her senior. His posture tensed, preparing to bolt.

“Ara ara...it’s a cat!”

“And look how long its tail is! That’s bad luck!”

“Your mom was right...this old hag is a witch! She’s makin’ pacts with yōkai!”

“Get it, get it!”

Hissing, Obito’s back arched, teeth bared as several hands made to grab him. Claws cut through skin, yowling and screaming as they pulled him from the front step. One palm drove his face into the sharp gravel, the rocks biting into his flesh as they pinned him down.

“Quick, cut its tail!”

“STOP IT!”

Just as the outburst sounded, one of the boys gave a holler, staggering as Ryū barreled into him. Though smaller and lighter, she was clearly determined, climbing up his form like a monkey and tugging at his arms.

“Yūrei!

“It’s the yūrei!”

“This whole mountain’s full of monsters!”

“Run for it!”

Teeth bared in a snarl, she kept fighting even as the others sprinted off, quitting only as her target threw her down to the road with a scream. She landed with a thump and a roll, catching her breath as the boys ran shrieking back down the hill.

“Ryū-chan!” Having been in the rear garden, too slow to catch them in the act, Sachiko tottered around to the front, expression grave. “Are you all right?”

“Obito...they had Obito…!”

They both turned to the cat, who laid limp in the road. “...oh no…”

Hefting to her feet, Ryū crossed to him, kneeling and gently pulling him to her lap. “Obito…”

Cuts marred the cat’s face where he’d been crushed into the rocks, a large tear in his ear. Wincing in pain, he managed a weak yowl.

“Bāchan, what do we do…?”

“Come...let’s get him inside. We must wash the wounds, and I’ll mix up a poultice…”

Ever so carefully, Ryū brought him inside by the hearth, still lit against the chilly nights and mornings. Gentle hands cleared away the grit, smoothing the blood and torn flesh with a warm, wet cloth.

All the while, Sachiko mixed together a mash of herbs, spreading it across the wounds. “There, now...he needs to rest.”

Teary-eyed, Ryū curled around the creature, as if to form a protective shell. “I’m sorry, Obito...I should have been here sooner...I’m sorry...”

Injured eye closed and the other half-lidded, Obito managed a weak purr before passing into sleep.

Weeks passed...and with them came grave news. One by one, misfortune began to befall the boys of the village. The rumors of Sachiko’s witchly ways only grew, and slowly but surely, the traders refused to barter, the shops refused her coin. Supplies became harder to come by.

“I don’t understand...we didn’t do anything to them!” Ryū bemoaned. “It isn’t our fault.”

Sachiko watched her carefully. “...I think, my dear...it’s time we begin your new lessons.”

“...new lessons?”

“What do you know of the tsukimono-suji?”

White brows furrowed. “...witches?”

“Of a sort. They are women who make deals with spirits. They become like...partners. The spirit can grant their mistress great fortune...and misfortune on her enemies. So long as she cares for her familiar, and treats them well, the spirit does so in return.”

“...you mean...they’re real…?”

That got the old woman to laugh. “But of course! Haven’t you told me about the spirits you see?”

She had no retort for that.

“...some humans are more closely tied to the spirit world than others. I do not know how you became entangled with them my dear, but you certainly are. Just as I, and my mother, and her mother have always been. Most tsukimono-suji pair with more notorious spirits, like the kitsune. But we of the Uchiha have always been partial to cats...or the bakeneko, more specifically. Not a common partner, but powerful all the same. Most of our bakeneko have died or been lost out with the fading of our line...but they can still be found. Still be tamed.”

She gestured to her lap, where Obito was laying, sound asleep. His wounds had healed, skin bare of fur and his ear misshapen...but alive.

“...when I found this little one, I knew he needed me, just as I needed him. Just as you and I need each other. You needed a teacher...and I, a student.”

“...you want me to be…?”

“When I’m gone, he’ll need someone to look after him,” Sachiko replied. “This world is not an easy one to traverse for humans or spirits. But you will have each other. A tsukimono-suji can only pass her familiar and her secrets to a daughter...of which I have none. Therefore, you will have to do. I’ve done my best to teach you to live, and now...to navigate the world so many are blind to. You will always have one foot in both. You must know both to survive.”

Looking at her teacher with an uncertain expression, Ryū then looked to Obito. “...so...he’s a spirit…?”

“Not yet. But he will be. Every bakeneko must begin as a mortal cat. Already he’s been embittered to humans…” The old woman’s face weighed with despair. “...I never meant for him to suffer so. But few yōkai view humans favorably. As I said...the tsukimono grants boons to their mistress, and revenge upon her enemies.”

“Then...those boys…?!”

“...I’m not sure. He is yet young to have such power...but spirits are powerful, mysterious things. Perhaps, even without fully intending it, he’s begun to use that power. A power that will help keep you safe, as you in turn protect him.”

Ryū went silent, clearly overwhelmed. “...w-what else can a bakeneko do?”

“They are most notorious for changing their shape, as others like the kitsune or the tanuki do. They can also manipulate the dead, and learn to speak...and control spirit fire. They are powerful beings. Most come from cats with long lives, long tails...or great size. Or those that gorge themselves on lamp oil. When I found him, his tail was still long...and I knew he would become strong. All he needed was help to grow. So long as you care for him, he’ll be with you always. Until you pass him to the next.”

The girl mulled that over. “...so...you don’t know why I am...the way that I am?”

“No...you were already steeped in the spirit world when I found you. Stay there long, and the body drains of color. Eyes turn grey, and hair bleaches white. The fact you’ve never reverted puzzles me greatly...but there’s much about the spirits we don’t know. It’s why the others fear you. They fear what they do not understand. But I think it will make you a powerful witch. If...that’s what you want to become. Either way, you will always be marked as an outsider.” Sachiko’s chin declined toward her chest, giving Ryū a calculating look. “...if you are to be different...why not embrace it, hm? You’ll have the means to protect yourself.”

Silence fell for a long while, Ryū’s eyes flickering over nothing as she thought. “...o-okay. I’ll do it.”

The old woman smiled. “...then tomorrow, we will begin.”

From then on, Ryū remained with Sachiko and Obito full-time. Breakfast and chores were early in the morning, followed by hours of studying. Practical application wasn’t begun until she had proven her memorization of the basics...and then they breached into magic.

Ryū’s inner energies, according to Sachiko, were most finely attuned to water.

“Water is the element of flowing. It also ties into other flowing things: music, learning, time, and words. It’s also tied to healing. O-Benzaiten-sama, the protectress, will likely be your guiding kami. She is closely associated with such elements, as well as serpents and dragons…” Sachiko had mused. “...the latter of which, of course, is your name: Ryū.”

“...do you think my mother knew as much, and named me thus?”

“It is possible. Now...my element is fire, so our lessons may be a bit...difficult. Obito, too, as a bakeneko will wield fire. But opposites can also be compliments. Water is free, and sometimes difficult to control. You must learn to flow with it, and urge it to your bidding. Fire is hungry, and must be fed and reined in. I can teach you some of the basics...but the rest you will need to learn on your own: your element is beyond my reach, as mine is to you.”

Ryū’s training was difficult, but her determination was not to be outdone. Even as years passed under Sachiko’s tutelage, her growth never wavered.

...but the passage of time was not kind to them both.

As Sachiko weakened, Ryū did her best to keep her teacher tied to the mortal plane: using her magic to heal the old woman’s aches and pains, attempting to bolster her vitality.

“You mustn’t be afraid to let go of what must leave, Ryū. We all must return to the earth when our time comes. I have faith that you are ready.”

Unlike his mistress, Obito didn’t fade as the years went on. His coat remained sleek and black, saved for the jagged scars where the gravel had bit him. If anything, he seemed to get stronger with time.

They all knew why.

It was a rainy Autumn day when Sachiko finally faded. With her son long gone, it was Ryū who carried out the rites, carefully following all twenty steps as best she could on her own. With their seclusion from the village, some roles normally carried out by others she shouldered herself...including the burning of the body, and the ashes carefully sealed into their vase and placed within her shrine.

Knelt before them for hours in reflection, Ryū moved only when Obito sat silently beside her.

“So long as you care for him, he’ll be with you always.”

Considering the cat silently, the weight of her new responsibilities seemed to settle over her. Soon, according to Sachiko’s estimations, Obito would reach his thirteenth year...and officially become a yōkai. Already he had a kamidana within Sachiko’s tiny home...which was now Ryū’s. Where the old woman had always prepared the offerings for it, Ryū would now step in.

Gently, she laid a hand atop the feline’s head. His own sorrow was obvious. “...she saved us both, didn’t she? I guess now...we’ll have to save each other.”

The silence of the house filled with purring.

Since then, life has continued on much as it always has. With Winter approaching, Ryū does her best to prepare for the long, cold season. Wood, gathered all year, is ready to burn. Rice is stockpiled, and other foods prepared against the bite of time. Any repairs needed for the house are done, and Ryū readies her warmer Winter wardrobe.

Soon snow is flying, dumped even heavier on them being so far up the hill from the shore. Ice settles over any still water, and the stream she fetches from must be broken every morning. Breath pluming in the cold as she checks her nets, Ryū pauses, as she always does, to stare up into the mountains.

Like a string tied around her heart, the sight always seems to pull at her chest: beckoning.

...but she has a home now. So with bucket in one hand and a small string of fish in the other, she begins to make her way back down to the little house, alight from within by the hearth.

Obito trots obediently beside her, occasionally leaping at one distraction or another. Little paw prints are dotted in the snow, marking his passing beside her own. Holding her catch up out of his batting reach, Ryū laughs. “Now now, these are for supper. Patience!”

Obito yowls in want as they round a bend in the pass...and then they see it.

Black smoke belches up from the little house, flames licking and snapping into the sky. Around it, a crowd of villagers shout and rally with cries of witch.

With a clatter, the bucket falls from her hands, fish lying forgotten in the road. Her home...Sachiko’s home...Obito’s home…

It’s all burning…!

It’s burning like before!

With a cry, she races down the hill, sandals soon lost in the mud as she sacrifices them for speed. Rage sparks in her eyes, and the villagers turn with sounds of terror and confusion. But rather than them, she focuses on the house. Reaching for the water all around them, Ryū pulls with all of her might. Following her commands, it converges and washes over the little house. Fires die with geyser-like hisses, and several of the people are knocked aside as she struggles to save what is left.

...it isn’t much.

Most of the roof is already gone, the thatch burning like tinder despite the snow. The tatami mats are scorched, fusuma little more than sooty frames.

...even Obito’s kamidana is ruined.

In the wake of her grief and disbelief, the water falls and drains, Ryū staring barefoot and sopping wet at the wreckage.

For a long moment, stunned silence reigns.

Then the shouting returns, the people rallying after the obvious display of magic. Ryū just looks at them sorrowfully. Never has she harmed them. Never has she cursed them. All she ever wanted was to live in a peace she was always denied…!

One particularly brave man attempts to lead a charge, fishing spear in hand. Too devastated by all she’s lost, Ryū doesn’t move. Her eyes just close, almost wanting to disappear as everything else has vanished -

...but the blow doesn’t come.

Instead, a weight leans against her back, and an arm wraps behind her, a clawed hand gripping her arm tightly and digging through the sleeve of her yukata. The smell of smoke and heat of fire seems to halo around her...and Ryū opens her eyes.

Frozen in fear, the villager stares over her other shoulder and trembles, still gripping the shaft of his spear. But the tip hasn’t reached her, held at bay by another hand around the iron of the spear’s tip, similarly clawed as the one that holds her.

Following his gaze to her left shoulder, Ryū sees what he’s staring at.

Ruddy eyes with feline pupils stare, wide, furious, and challenging beneath black brows. A crown of ebony locks are short and unruly as the man behind her reaches around to stop the blow. Dressed in an ensemble of haori, nagagi, and hakama all of obsidian black, he looks every part some kind of nobleman. But what catches her eyes the most are the scars along his closer brow and cheek...and the tattered, pinned-in-anger ear she can see.

...this...is Obito.

Bakeneko at last.

Around him, sparking and spitting orbs of yellow flame loom like werelights, casting sharp shadows as the sky seems to darken.

“...you will not touch her.”

His voice is as rough as his yowls, and something about it sends a thrill up Ryū’s spine where his chest is pressed. With a flick of his wrist, he breaks the spearhead from its handle with a loud report, the wood cracking and splitting as the human falls back with a gasp. Held in his grip, it bursts into flames, tongues wrapping around his hand as he squeezes.

“M...monster…!”

Lip lifting and the bridge of his nose wrinkling with a snarl, Obito bears pointed teeth at the mob. “Haven’t you caused us enough grief? Did you ever consider that you humans create what you fear when you treat those different than you with contempt? I have tread your streets, I have followed your footsteps...and none among you can claim kindness in your hearts nor care in your actions that this one can. Yet you turned up your noses to her and her teacher, you let your superstition blind you to reality. You let it make you cruel. But this is the final blow. You fear the bakeneko, do you…? Let me remind you why -!”

“No!”

Lurching as Ryū grips his haori, Obito lets his gaze lower, and soften. “...they have hurt you, mistress. Hurt all of us…!”

“It’s not what I want…”

“But -?”

“I want to leave. I want to turn my back on this place, and never return. Without Sachiko-bā...without our home...what’s left to tie us here where we are unwanted?”

Eyes narrowing, Obito pins mismatched ears in frustration. “...I cannot disobey you. But are you so willing to swallow this pain?”

“...I have always been in pain.”

Something in her words wilts his form. With a thud, he releases the half-melted spearhead to the street. And then without a word, he takes the witch into his arms...and begins ascending the mountain road.

Behind them, the villagers simply stand beside the corpse of the house, fear in their eyes.

Obito, however, ignores them. Instead, he walks further and further up into the mountains. Ryū keeps her brow to his chest, silent. With every step he takes, the tug in her chest seems to get stronger.

...but soon, they’re no longer alone.

Ears flickering back to listen, Obito’s expression sours. “If you think I’m going to stumble and drop her, you’re bound to be disappointed, okuri inu.”

Behind them, silvery and ghost-like, a canid follows exactly in his footsteps, eyes trained on his back. “Humans so rarely walk my pass these days...the smell is enticing after so long.”

“This one’s under my protection, dog.”

“...or are you under hers? Rare to see a tsukimono-suji and a bakeneko...I thought they preferred the wily fox, or the clever snake?”

“There are exceptions to every rule.”

“Hm…” The dog goes quiet. “...what brings you here, cat?”

“...I don’t know. It’s where she’s headed.”

“...is this the ghost child?”

“You know of her?”

“The whole mountain knows. Neither human nor spirit. A foot in both planes. She used to run through these peaks wild and barefoot until the witch took her. Seems the old hag got what she wanted.”

Obito tosses a sharp glare over his shoulder. “You will respect Sachiko-sama.”

“Your prior mistress, eh? You’re lucky...not many cats live long enough to end up like you. And yet you’re bound to a human...how pitiful.”

“...I was alone. Now, no longer. That is enough for me. I will protect what in turn protected me.”

Soon trees begin to engulf the road, and Obito can smell running water. Creeks and springs crop up...and in the distance, the roars of waterfalls and the churning of rapids meet his sensitive ears.

“...do you know where she came from?”

“No. One moment, nothing...then the next, the ghost was lying along the riverbank, pale as snow and reeking of the other side. It seeped into her bones. Seems even now, it’s yet to run out. No wonder she ended up a witch’s student and mistress of a monster. She was both blessed and cursed when she appeared here.”

So...the river, then. That’s where he’ll go first. Her magic, her name...it’s all starting to make sense. The answer lies just beyond his knowing.

Around them, spirits and kami begin to gather, curious as such a wild and untouched place bleeds through to the plane of the gods. From the edge of a pond, an umber-eyed kappa woman looks on in intrigue. And all of them whisper: she’s returned.

The ghost of the river.

Reaching the banks, Obito then notices a path that runs along it, brow furrowing slightly. Should he...follow it? He’s never strayed this far into the mountains before. Admittedly...he’s a bit nervous about what they’ll find. But they can’t go back to the village, and he knows nowhere else to go. So he turns and keeps walking, eyes and ears both piqued for danger.

He may be a yōkai, and a powerful one...but you never know what you might find in places this touched by the spirit world.

Around them, the woods are silent, almost as if holding their breath. The thick trees mean there’s little snow along the forest floor, and his passing mostly goes unnoticed. A plethora of little spirits run and tumble around him, attracted to the strong magic.

...but eventually, he slows to a stop.

Like flesh-stripped bones, the carcasses of houses rise up from the undergrowth. Charred and rotting...it’s clear what happened here.

...is this...where she came from?

Ruddy eyes slowly pass over the sight, eventually beginning to walk again through the village. A heavy, oppressive atmosphere hangs over like a thick fog, and the echoes of tormented spirits ring in his ears, which flicker and turn to every little sound.

...no wonder she’d panicked at the sight of the fire. If this is where she was born...perhaps she remembers the flames.

But that still doesn’t explain her current state.

Eventually, he comes up short at one last surprise. At the very tail end of the valley, half-consumed by a gargantuan camphor tree, is a shrine...completely untouched by fire. The closer he gets, the calmer he feels...until the weight of the ghosts behind him all but fades.

It’s clearly the shrine of a local deity. Water trickles down a bank into the temizuya through a carved stone dragon’s mouth. A sizeable shimenawa hangs along the entrance, littered with shide. And ema, carrying the wishes of villagers long dead, clatter softly in the breeze.

Unable to purify his hands as they carry his mistress, Obito lingers along the edge of the temple grounds. As he does, the okuri inu sits beside him.

“This is the shrine of O-Suigin-sama. The god of the river.”

“Suigin…?”

The dog nods, and in a blink takes the form of a man. Shaggy silver hair is pushed back by a hand with a sigh. An angry scar cuts through one eye, clouded with blindness. “...she was the village’s patron deity. It was steeped in the old ways. Or so they say. It was gone by the time I found my way here.”

“It was lightning that started the fire.”

The pair look over their shoulders, spying a female spirit in her human guise. The kappa’s expression is somber, eyes far in the past. “It was Autumn, and uncommonly dry. The village had been falling on hard times, and their offerings to O-Suigin-sama were low. Her waters were drying up. Then a storm came, and they thought it a blessing with rain. But the lightning struck, and caught the trees...much of the forest to the north burnt, and it worked its way here. All of the humans perished...save for one.”

Obito’s eyes widen. “...but...how did -?”

“Her mother carried her to the river, trying to find sanctuary from the flames. She was horribly burnt...and prayed for O-Suigin-sama to save her baby. She had been the miko of her shrine. The river god took the baby, also wounded...and to save her, took her through to the spirit world, and kept her within her banks. Much time passed, and the child grew within the other plane, soaking up the magic of our world until it consumed her. Only once she was healed and old enough to survive did the god bring her back here. Time passes much faster here...and by then, the ruins were overgrown, and most had forgotten about the humans. But I remembered…”

“...that explains her strangeness, then,” the okuri inu muses. “Humans that linger in the spirit world too long take some of it with them. No wonder she was an outcast.”

“O-Suigin-sama saved her life, but marked her forever. For a time, she was a child of the forest, wild as the wind and water. But we knew she couldn’t stay...so we tried to bring her to the village at the shore. They shunned her, but...the tsukimono-suji saw her for what she was, and took her in.”

“Sachiko-sama,” Obito offers. “She was the one who took me in as well. Made me a bakeneko.”

“She was a good human,” the kappa agrees. “Not many carry the old ways anymore. I suppose it was only a matter of time before she came back here. There’s no place for those like her, now. She’s not a spirit, but not a human. Both, and yet neither.” Looking to the witch, the kappa then turns eyes to Obito. “...you’re her familiar, then?”

“Obito.”

“I’m Rin. That’s Kakashi. And don’t worry about him - he’s never actually eaten a human.”

The dog scoffs, arms folding. “I’ve just never gotten the proper chance.”

Rin only smirks, mirroring his posture. “You can’t fool me, Kakashi. I remember you running with her back then. You just pretended not to see when she stumbled.”

“...she was just a kid. And you said it yourself, she’s not really a human.”

“...I do not know where else to go,” Obito then admits. “If she can’t be with humans, but nor with gods…”

“Bah,” Rin replies, waving his words away. “She’s always belonged here. The spirits here know her. Besides...her mother was a miko. If she wants, she can take up that mantle. The spirits on the human side need someone to care for them. Where else can a being like her belong? This place is human...but the spirit world bleeds through. We thought being with her kind was what was best...but we know now: this is where she belongs.”

“Mm…”

Stiffening, Obito looks to his arms to see Ryū stir at last. Greys flutter open, fogged with confusion. “...Obito…?”

“I’m here.”

“...where…?”

“We’re in the mountains. Where you were born.”

Letting Obito ease her to her unsteady feet, Ryū takes in her surroundings. “...I...recognize this place…”

“Hey tadpole.”

Eyes moving to the kappa, the witch frowns. “...Rin…?”

“You remember! I knew you would!” The water spirit takes her hands, beaming. “What about him? Remember this grouchy mutt?”

The okuri inu deadpans. “I’m not a mutt…”

“I...remember a dog with hair like that. Kakashi…?”

At his name, his lips twitch. “...hey pup. Though, not much of a pup now...are you?”

Ryū brings a hand to her brow. “...it’s all rather...hazy. But it all seems familiar.”

“This is your home. Where you were born, and where O-Suigin-sama brought you back from the spirit world.”

“...I was in the spirit world?”

Rin nods, but for now doesn’t reiterate the story. “I’m sorry for how the humans treated you...we thought it was where you belonged. But this is your home, Ryū-chan. That is...if you want to stay.”

Looking around once more, Ryū murmurs, “...the tug is gone.”

“Tug…?” Obito asks.

“...I’ve always felt this...pull to the mountains. Ever since I can remember. But now that I’m here, it’s...gone.”

“No need to pull if you’re where you’re meant to be,” Kakashi muses.

“...I can...really stay?”

“Of course!” Rin cuts in. “You belong to the kami, Ryū-chan. Your mother gave you to the river to save your life. So long as you want to stay, you know we’ll have you.”

“But...there’s nothing left but the shrine…”

“She’s not about to mind you finding refuge there for a while. All things considered, you’re pretty much her miko. Almost like her mikogami, really. You can stay here until we figure out the rest, ne?”

“What about Obito…?”

“Hm…” Rin strokes her chin. “Well...most tsukimono-suji have foxes...which are often O-Inari-sama’s avatars. Bakeneko don’t exactly have shining reputations…”

“Kitsune can be devilish, too,” Kakashi offers. “And so can kappa. And okuri inu.”

Rin can’t help a laugh. “Yeah...that’s true. Besides, I think this one’s been rather tamed,” she then notes, grinning at Obito and making his face alight pink. “He can stay...just be sure he minds his manners.”

“I always mind my manners,” the cat mumbles in retort, practically pouting.

Ryū gives a smile. “We’ll both be on our best behavior. Do you...think we’ll be able to speak to O-Suigin-sama…?”

“Mm...maybe. She’s a rather reclusive god, but I’m sure she knows you’re here. She’ll probably wait for you to settle in first. It’s not every day you meet a god, ne?”

“Of course.”

“We need to get her inside,” Obito then offers. “She’s been barefoot all this time.”

“She ran barefoot all the time before,” Kakashi retorts.

“I am a little cold,” Ryū admits.

Mouth curled in a moue, Obito puts an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go in.”

The pair go through the cleansing ritual, stepping carefully into the shrine. Almost immediately, it feels a good bit warmer. Even so, Obito summons several orbs of flame, keeping them close and controlled.

“...wow…”

Above them, along the ceiling, a huge mural is painted depicting a silver dragon, winding like the river outside.

“...do you remember her?”

“...I think so. It was so long ago...Sachiko-bā found me when I was maybe...five?”

“Time passes slowly in the spirit world. The years you spent there were many times that here. No wonder you feel confused.”

“Mm…” Kneeling along a wall, Ryū looks over the shrine curiously.

Obito sits behind her, one leg tucked and the other extended as he leans around her almost protectively.

“...do you think we’ll be happy here…?” she murmurs.

“I will be happy so long as I’m with you,” he offers, unable to lie.

In spite of herself, Ryū alights a soft pink. “...I’m happy I don’t have to be alone,” she admits, leaning back against his chest with a sigh. Like when he first changed and protected her, it makes her feel...safe.

“We will never be alone. Sachiko-sama made sure of that.”

That brings a smile to her face. “...I wonder if she knew.”

“Knew what?”

“How much we would need each other.”

He hums in thought. “...perhaps she did.” Gaze softening, he allows himself to gently nuzzle his nose to the crown of her hair, taking in her scent.

“That tickles,” Ryū offers with a wisp of a giggle.

“Sorry…”

“...don’t stop.”

Encouraged, he brings his arms around her front, sleeves helping to keep her warm. “...will you miss being among humans? Do you fear being alone…?”

That earns a sigh. “...I don’t know. I miss Sachiko-bā, but...she wasn’t like most humans. And we won’t be alone here. There’s Rin, and Kakashi…”

At the mention of the okuri inu, Obito sours slightly, ears pinning. “...the dog annoys me.”

“That’s because you’re a cat,” she giggles in reply. “He’s not as tough as he makes himself out to be. Or at least...that’s not how I remember him. I’m sure you’ll get along once he relaxes.”

“Hn…”

Eyes growing heavy in her comfy perch, Ryū sighs. “...thank you, Obito.”

“For what?”

“For...a lot of things. But mostly stopping the villagers. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there…”

Recalling her inaction in the face of danger, something greatly disquiets in Obito’s chest. If she’d been hurt, if he hadn’t been able to intervene… “...I’ll always be with you. Until the end.”

She manages a gentle smile. “...then...no, I’m not afraid. I’m not alone anymore…”

Feeling her relax on the verge of sleep, Obito too lets himself unwind. A purr of contentment rumbles in his chest. “...neither am I.”

Terminology mentioned in the fic:

A tsukimono-suji is a kind of witch that makes a pact with a tsukimono, aka a 'possessing spirit', most often kitsune but also other spirits. They're tied to the female line and are inherited! Basically the witch cares for her familiar, who brings her good fortune, and MISfortune to her enemies.

Now I don't know for sure if bakeneko count as tsukimono. Some sources say they can possess, others don't, so I'm kinda stretching things here, but Uchiha have connections to cats, so we're just kinda blurring over that line lol

Bakeneko are cats that live long enough / get big enough to become a yōkai, or spirit. They're usually nasty buggers who love to dance, can puppeteer the dead, take a human form, speak, and control fire! Neat! That's what Obito is based on.

Okuri inu are dogs / wolves that follow travelers through mountain roads. If the person stumbles, the dog will attack and eat them. But they also deter other monsters! So if you make it through, you're supposed to thank the dog for "seeing you off", and then leave a reward for it outside when you get home. This is Kakashi's spirit type.

Kappa are a weird mix of like...turtles and amphibians? They're kinda strange and sometimes eat people, but love kids and look a lot like kids. I made Rin one because of Isobu, and also her being rather childlike due to her dying as a child in canon. Anyway, they have to keep their heads wet or they can die!

Dragons are often conflated with water, be it rain or rivers or oceans. One plays a heavy role in my OC's lore, hence doing so here again. Basically I wanted her lore + Uchiha and cats + traditional Japanese mythology cuz it's neat.

Actual ANs:

OKAY. This took...way too long. And has been in my brain for weeks and weeks, but I've been too burned out to write. I just really like the idea of Obito as a bakeneko...I love Japanese mythology as a whole. And the witch / familiar dynamic is easier to make a lil shippy with a yōkai cuz they can also be humanoid :3c

And lbr who doesn't like neko!Uchiha? I mean really?

...anyway, this is entirely self indulgent. Which...admittedly all my fics are, but especially this one lol - all I wanna do is write this ship cuz I'm addicted to it, m'kay. Also Sachiko's name is fully credited to AbyssalFool and her iteration of Obito and his grandma. But I totally just took her and ran with her in this, haha!

But I guess there's not much else to note about it. Just some attempts at blending canon and mythos and ships. If you made it all the way through this monster, thanks for reading! Now I'll...probably go write another one cuz I have a Problem.

#abyssaldespair #uchiha obito #uchiha sachiko #suigin ryū #hatake kakashi #nohara rin #animal abuse //#death //#river runs deep [ au ]

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satans-helper · 5 years ago

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This or That: Zodiac Edition

hijacking from @astrolovecosmos because i hate my job right now and need to validate myself.

Tagging some beautiful mutuals so we can all see our signs and preferences: @jeordinevankiszka @saywecanart @myownparadise96 @foaming @bigthighsandstupidguys @berkertex-bribe @gretavanyeeeeet @mountainofthesunn @that-glassbottomed-ego

I’m also stealing @that-glassbottomed-ego‘s idea to do rising and moon signs

Aries: White or Red. Ruby or Diamond. Honeysuckle or Tiger lily. Cinnamon or Cayenne Pepper. Scuba diving or Skydiving. Puma or Adidas. Sports cars or High-end tech. Pomegranate or Grapefruit. Dragon or Hellhounds. Spicy chocolate or Ginger candies. New beginnings or overcoming a challenge. Knight or Warrior. Winning something or Being the first to try something. Syrah or Some scotch. Fire powers or Enchanted weapons. Trumpet or Drums. Aquarius or Gemini.

Taurus Sun: Green or Pink. Malachite or Emerald. Roses or violets. Thyme or Basil. Vanilla or Chocolate. Candles or Bath bombs. Painting or Jewelry making. Seduction powers or Enchanted jewelry, treasure, or gemstones. Foxglove or Larkspur. Choker or Medallion necklaces. Apples or Grapes. Singing or Humming. Elephants or Turtles. Gardening or Shopping. Having a homebody day or Taking a walk in nature. Pinot Noir or Bourbon. Precognition or Manipulating life force. Violin or Lute. Pisces or Cancer.

Gemini: Yellow or Light blue. Tourmaline or Agate. Lavender or Lily-of-the-valley. Parsley or Fennel. Licorice or Lemon. Chess or Puzzle games. Black or White Tea. Twitter or Snapchat. Butterflies or Small Birds. Riesling or Jagermeister. Flute or Clarinet. Magic words or Enchanted Books. Walnuts or Hazelnuts. Blogging or private journaling. Having a pen pal or Joining a club. Trickster-like powers/short-term illusions or Ability to manipulate electricity/technology. Aries or Leo.

Cancer: Silver or Iridescent. Moonstone or Pearl. Waterlily or Lotus Flower. Chamomile or Bay Leaves. Relaxing at home during a rainy day or snowy day. Hand Mirror or Jewelry Box. Aloe or Sea Salt. White Roses or Jasmine. Frogs or Crabs. Water manipulation or Classic witchcraft. Sailing or Swimming. Twilight or Midnight. Photography or Painting. Scrap-booking or Collecting. Merlot or Rum. Guitar or Banjo. Healing magic or Blood manipulation. Magic mirrors or Magic candles. Taurus or Virgo.

Leo Rising: Gold or Orange. Cat’s Eye or Ruby. Sunflower or Marigold. Aniseed or Elderflower. Oranges or Peaches. Dance or Theater. Cosplay or Creating Fan Fiction. Sunbathing or Hot Stone Massage. Light Magic or Magical statues/monuments. Saxophone or Trumpet. Chardonnay or Gin. Super Strength or a Power like Occlumency. Lions or Tigers. Being a Queen/King or Having immortality. Being the hero or Being the headliner. Tickle or Pillow Fight. Libra or Gemini.

Virgo: Navy Blue or Olive Green. Peridot or Sardonyx. Peony or Sweet pea. Hops or Rosemary. Chess or Checkers. Carrot Cake or Fig Bars/Cakes/Cookies. Knitting or Crocheting. Grammar Checking/Quality Assurance or Critiquing a piece of work. Golf or Tennis. Buttercups or Morning glory. Herb magic or Earth and plant bending. Mice or Bees. Cabernet Franc or Micro-brews. Enchanted Garden or Magic that can perfect skills. Bunnies or Deer. Cancer or Scorpio.

Libra: Pale Blue or Pastel Pink. Sapphire or Jade. Cabbage Rose or Primrose. Mint or Marjoram. Interior Design or Fashion. Light Kisses or Hand Holding. Yellow Roses or Daisies. Swans or Lovebirds. Strawberries or Cherries. Harp or Violin. Badminton or Volleyball. Air Manipulation/Bending or Finding a (friendly) genie. Scales or Feathers. Doves or Songbirds. Enhanced vision or Love potions and curses. Pinot Gris or Complex cocktail. Singing or Whistling. Force field powers or Magic lanterns and charms. Sagittarius or Leo.

Scorpio: Maroon or Black. Opal or Topaz. Dahlia or Chrysanthemum. Horseradish or Peppercorns. Para-sailing or Deep diving. Photography or Poetry. Garlic or Onion. Hot Spring or Sauna. Necromancy or Poison Specialists. Lizard or Snake. Living on a desert island or Cabin in the woods. Bass or Guitar. Cabernet Sauvignon or Brandy. Darkness Manipulation or Emotion Manipulation (magic). Eagle or Wolf. Paintball or Laser tag. Telepathy or Invisibility. Cactus or Joshua Tree. Virgo or Capricorn.

Sagittarius: Teal or Purple. Topaz or Turquoise. Dandelion or Daffodil. Ginseng or Cilantro. Horse or Stag/Buck. Plane ride or Road Trip. Learn Hindi or Learn Japanese. Ginger or Wasabi. Climbing or Snowboarding. Teleportation or Super speed. Carnival or Circus. Sake or Tequila. Duffel Bags or Suitcases. Time manipulation or Basic Precognition. Tambourine or Triangle. Backpacking or Whitewater rafting. Aquarius or Libra.

Capricorn: Grey or Brown. Jet or Garnet. Poppy or Pansy. Sage or Wintergreen. Cello or Viola. Antique collecting or Genealogy. Pottery or Jewelry Making. Bears or Bats. The smell of Cedar or Pine. Woodworking or Metalworking. Hellebore or Hollyhock. Enhanced senses or Magical Runes. Kissing in the rain or Cuddling by a Fireplace. Michael Kors or Kate Spade. Shape-shifting or Biological manipulation. People watching or Exploring an abandoned building. Scorpio or Pisces.

Aquarius: Neon Colors or Rainbow. Magnet stones or Boji stones. Orchid or Golden-rain. Star fruit or Coconut. Long board or Skateboard.Yoga or Tai Chi. Peacock or Owl. Aliens or Phantoms. Star Magic or Astral projection abilities. Frankincense or Myrrh. Drums or Didjeridu. Desktop or Laptop. Time Travel or Gravity manipulation. Protest or Volunteer. Sauvignon Blanc or Absinthe. Aries or Sagittarius.

Pisces Moon: Aquamarine or Amethyst. Sea Green or Ocean Blue. Tulips or Carnations. Turmeric or Willow Herb. Surfing or Water Skiing. Ocean or River. Poetry or Painting. Dolphins or Whales. Pineapple or Watermelon.Telekinesis or Reality Warping/Illusion powers. Zinfandel or Spiked punches/lemonades. Starfish or Seashells. Healing Crystals or Dreamcatchers. Psychic powers or Water Bending/manipulation. Coneflower or Iris. Lighthouse or Watermill. Baby’s breath or Waterlily. Taurus or Capricorn.

#i had to choose both taurus and capricorn because it's me and danny ok i'm leaving

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magicallygrimmwiccan · 5 years ago

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Wander Through The Darkness Part I: Come Wayward Souls

A soft, sweet breeze rustled through the branches of the trees. Birds chirped, squirrels chattered, and mice scampered over crisp fallen leaves and soft earth. The forest was in the midst of autumn, caught between life and death, clinging to the last vestiges of summer whilst already surrendering to the siren song of winter. A cat licked her black paw, tail swishing behind her, flicking in time with a beat that only she could hear. Her intelligent violet eyes swept over the forest— her home— as her ears pricked up at distant crackles and crunches of the leaves, accompanied by unfamiliar voices. She jumped into the undergrowth, waiting, watching, as the intruders rounded the bend.

“- and then there’s caramels, Miss Belshaw always hands out caramels. And Mr. Reynolds is super nice and gives out these really nice chocolate-covered nuts! I don’t really like those fruits that Ms. Ortiz gives out, though, they’re not sweet enough. But I really love Mr. Bates though! He gives you chocolate pretzels and, if you’re extra good, he gives you ones with caramel as well! You’d like his son, I think, Lolo, he’s your age and he likes this old person named Edgar who writes scary stuff. I don’t get it, but I’ve told him about you, and he thinks you’d be pretty cool! I think you’d be really-”

“Hey, Patton, quiet for a second,” the taller of the two strangers suddenly blurts, slapping their hand over the smaller one’s mouth. The smaller one lets out a little meep, but the taller one— Gnome, the cat mentally renames them— ignores him, looking around the forest with wide, shining eyes. The cat flicks her tail, eyes narrowing at the unease she sees in those eyes. This can only go downhill from here.

“W-where are we? This isn’t home. How did we end up in the woods? There aren’t any woods near where we live. How… Patton, I think we’re lost,” the tall one stammered, gripping the sides of their head. Their long fingers jostled the dark blue cone-shaped hat on their head, and they yelped as it fell to the ground. The shorter one, Patton most likely, picked it up and handed it back, smile unnaturally wide and probably not possible under the laws of human biology.

“Don’t worry, Lolo! We’re not lost! Home’s just back that way!” Patton chirped, pointing behind them. The taller one’s eyes widened and they turned around to see a path shadowed in mist and lined with skeletal trees clinging to the last vestiges of their leaves.

“Patton… Patton, no it’s not. We’re lost, we’re so lost, Alfred is going to kill me,” Gnome babbled, panic seeping into their voice. The cat flinched from her place in the bush. She had been correct. Oh, how she hated to be correct in this case. This poor soul was a perfect target for the Beast, and she could not bear to see another lost child.

“Hey! Maybe if we keep walking, we’ll find someone who can help us get home!” Patton cheered, gently taking Gnome’s hand. At least one of these two would not be felled so easily. The cat bunched her legs, prepared to stroll out and direct the children to the nearby town where they would be safe from the Beast—Enoch did not take kindly to his theatrics, after all—when a new presence entered this scene.

“I can help you,” a soft drawl came from the trees. Both children looked up to find a lilac bluebird perched on a branch, head cocked to the side as most birds were wont to do. Gnome slapped their face a few times, leaving red marks in the shape of a pianist’s hands on his pale cheeks. He glanced around nervously, tugging on the edges of his cloak, as he began to nibble his lip and scuff the ground with his toe.

“This… this cannot be happening. I must be dreaming. This isn’t real. What is happening?” He pinched himself, to no avail. He then began to run around, continuously pinching himself and attempting to wake up, if his mad ramblings were to be believed. Finally, he knocked his head against a tree. With a yelp of pain, he stumbled back, rubbing his forehead. “Seriously, what is happening?”

“Well, you’re hitting yourself, and I’m answering your question, and that nice bird is offering to help us!” Patton answered, beaming brightly.

The tall child shook their head. “No, no, Patton, a- a bluebird’s brain isn’t large enough for cognizant speech.”

“Excuse you?” the bluebird snapped, eyes narrowing. The cat’s fur bristled. She had half a mind to leap out and claw that bird to shreds.

“What? That is a simple fact of biology,” the taller one snapped back, metaphorical hackles raised.

The bluebird puffed himself up and flew down, landing on the teapot atop the head of Patton, to glare right into the tall one’s eyes. “Now, listen here, you little shit-” he started, when a thick branch snapping startled all involved.

The tall child spun around to find a towering mountain of a human— a woodsman, Remy realized with a start, perhaps even the Beast’s woodsman— holding up a lantern, eyes glaring into the souls of all in front of him. “Who goes there?” he bellowed.

The bluebird muttered something about leaving and shot off into the sky, leaving the two cowering children alone. The cat once again bunched her legs and prepared to leap to their defense, but the tall one’s stammering stopped her.

“We- we weren’t causing any trouble! I just need to get Patton home, and we’re really lost. Could you maybe point us in the right direction, and then we’ll be on our way, and you can go back to doing whatever it is you do!”

The bulky, darkly-clad man hummed and inspected the two children before sighing and lowering his lantern. “You’ll freeze out here, boys. Let’s get you some food, and then we’ll work on getting you home.”

Patton eagerly accepted, and while Gnome was still wary, they ultimately accepted as well. The two children left to follow the man reminiscent of redwoods, leaving the cat alone as the only witness.

Eyes narrowed, she slinked out, hackles raised. She did not trust that woodsman. He stank of the Beast. Someone cleared their throat behind her, and she spun around, hissing with unsheathed claws and bared fangs.

The bluebird from earlier was perched on a log, giving her an unimpressed look. “Listen, I know you were there the whole time. I think we can both agree that those kids are in danger from that crazy woodsman. Want to help me stage a rescue mission?”

Remy calmed down, fur smoothing, and sat down to lick her paw and contemplate the offer. “Why do you care?” she asked, washing her ears.

The bluebird sighed. “I… got into a situation like those kids just did, and I don’t want to see that happen again. That guy works for the Beast… we can’t let those kids go without a fight.”

A grin stretched across her face and she stood, stretching, a calculating grin spreading across her face. “Agreed, little bluebird. I am not one for heroism, but I shall make an exception in this case.”

“Virgil, actually. I… I’m not a bluebird.” The cat’s ears perked up at that tidbit, yet she remained silent. This was not uncommon in the Unknown, creatures who were not those creatures. A possible curse was not her business, unless Virgil wished to share more. Questions could wait for later, when those children were safe from the clutches of the Beast.

“Remy. You can call me Remy. Off we go, Virgil.” With that, she flicked her tail and bounded after the deceptive woodsman, Virgil soaring behind her. It was clear no one else was going to help these kids, so Remy was going to feed the last shreds of decency in her soul and help these kids get home. The Beast had stolen enough souls while Remy stood by idly. It was time to start fighting back.

The woodsman’s house was not far and, in almost no time at all, Remy and Virgil found themselves perched on the roof, arguing over strategy. Virgil thought swooping down the chimney and pecking the woodsman’s eyes out was the best plan, whereas Remy believed sneaking in through a window and leading the children out would be better. Two of the most stubborn beings in the Unknown stood, toe to toe, neither willing to compromise their position, even to rescue the two hapless children caught up in the middle of this plot.

As fate would have it, this argument was pointless, as the section of the roof a few feet away shattered and both Remy and Virgil scrambled back as the two children burst out of the mill, trailed by a hound from hell, eyes glowing in the same swirling coloured rings of the Beast. Virgil shrieked and Remy hissed, claws shooting out as she prepared to leap and claw the hound to shreds. Gnome, however, turned out to be more resourceful than expected, as they lured the hound to the edge of the roof near the wheel and goaded it into barreling towards them, leaping out of the way at the last minute and allowing the hound to be crushed by the wheel. Remy tried to muster a shred of sympathy for the hound, but found she couldn’t. Gnome panted, staring in horror at the destruction they had caused, as their younger sibling cheered and danced around. Virgil fluttered up to Gnome and landed on their shoulder, nuzzling into their neck as the woodsman shouted from the midst of the carnage on the ground. Gnome and the smaller one leant over the edge of the roof, staring down in horror.

Virgil sighed and battered Gnome’s face gently with his wings. “We should go,” he murmured. Gnome simply nodded, still in shock, and scrambled down from the unbroken section of roof, Remy nudging Patton along after them. Ignoring the angered shouts of the woodsman, Remy coaxed the children back into the woods, steering them towards Pottsville. Enoch would know what to do.

********************************

Logan gulped as much air as they could, arms wrapped tightly around themself under their cloak. Patton bounced happily ahead, chattering endlessly with the bluebird who inexplicably could talk (scientifically impossible, yet happening. Logan did not want to think about what that could mean) named Virgil and the black cat with the too-bright violet eyes, or ‘Remy’ as she told them to call her. Logan trailed behind, lost in thought, trying desperately to quell the anxiety bubbling in their intestines and attempting to claw up their throat. Patton was happy, they could tell; they could not ruin that for him. Their father Alfred would be angry and disappointed, and then their father would be angry and disappointed at them, and they would just be an infuriating disappointment to their entire family.

“So, Patton, who’s the string bean behind us?” Virgil’s voice cut through Logan’s turbulent thoughts, and their cheeks paled. No no no, Patton, please do not say the words always sitting on the tip of your tongue, those false words that had the power to ruin Logan and reduce them to sand blowing away on the wind-

“Oh! He’s my older brother,” Patton chirped, beaming back at Logan with the kind of smile only an innocent six-year-old with no concept of Reality could produce. Logan flinched. Of course Patton would answer that. Alfred and Arthur told him that, and who was a six-year-old to question the word of his parents?

“No, no I’m not,” Logan snapped back, hunching deeper into their cloak. “We are not brothers.”

“But Papa said-” Patton began, and Logan couldn’t stand to hear the next words, they couldn’t go through the tearing and the fire and the pain again.

“Alfred is wrong, okay? Arthur’s wrong. We’re not brothers, Patton, so just… just stop, okay?” Logan stammered out before fixing their gaze on anything but Patton and retreating back into their thoughts. They registered Patton explaining that away with He’s just grumpy, don’t worry and He’ll come around, he’s always like this when he’s scared and Logan’s throat fell into the vice-like grip of sorrow. Patton would never understand, he would never let it go, Patton would always see them as his brother…

“Yo, string bean, you good?” Virgil’s voice sounded from right next to his ear. Logan startled and spun to face the bluebird, fingers shaking. This entire scenario was implausible, impossible, and Logan knew that they must be dreaming. They hadn’t dreamed in months, however, so this could not be a dream. Which meant this entire ludicrous scenario was real, it was actually happening, and Logan wanted to cry at the realization.

“Yes, I am satisfactory. Thank you for asking,” Logan murmured back, wringing their hands together. “Patton has some difficulties accepting reality, that is all.” Without glancing over, Logan could feel the disbelief radiating off of Virgil, stabbing into their heart and tearing into their shields.

“Sure. Let’s go with that,” Virgil simply answered, ruffling his wings. “Almost makes you want to leave a kid like him behind, yeah?” Logan blinked and turned to face the bluebird, aghast.

“Absolutely not. Alfred would kill me if I let anything happen to Patton, and then Arthur would kill me for upsetting Alfred,” Logan hissed, sadness welling in their heart. Of course they couldn’t leave Patton. They had to prove that they were at least capable of being anything other than a failure of a child, and keeping Patton safe and getting him home was going to be the only way to prove it.

Virgil sighed and ruffled his feathers. “As you wish. Let me know if you change your mind, okay?” With that, he flew off to perch atop Patton’s teapot, and Logan was once again left to their own thoughts. The small, strange quartet continued along the path towards the town of Pottsville; Logan composed poetry as the minutes passed, lamenting their situation, an unreciprocated love, a family torn apart. They barely noticed as they entered the township proper of Pottsville, too caught up in their composition.

“Welcome to Pottsville. Stick close to me and don’t wander off, okay?” Remy’s voice called from the front. She paused and turned around, tail lashing behind her and violet eyes burning with fierce conviction. Overall, she was clearly not joking around right now, and Logan swallowed and nodded, unwilling to incur her wrath.

“Okay!” Patton chirped, eyes already darting around to take in the sights. Logan sighed and walked forward, grabbing Patton’s hand to prevent him from running off. Virgil settled on their shoulder, Remy nodded her approval, and the group continued on, walking the seemingly deserted streets of Pottsville. Logan shivered, pulling their cloak closer around them as they contemplated why the town seemed so abandoned. All of the scenarios they could think of were not pleasant ones, so Logan desperately hoped that none of them were true. In seemingly no time at all, Remy came to a stop in front of a barn, the long plume of her black tail swaying languidly behind her as she sashayed up to the door.

“In here,” she announced, jerking her nose towards the door. Logan cautiously stepped up to the door and pushed gently, the door creaking open easily. The group all slipped inside and Logan gently pushed the door closed behind them, allowing their eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Once they did, they wished their eyes had not as they felt all the blood rush from their cheeks and their heart thud to a stop. Figures cloaked entirely in cloth moved in strange, disjointed patterns to music as they all sang, slightly out of tune but still somewhat charming yet disturbing. Remy seemed to not display any signs of discomfort as she strolled forward, head held high. Logan reluctantly followed her, pulling Patton behind them while Virgil’s talons dug into their shoulder.

The figures around them greeted Remy as she strolled past; Remy acknowledged the greetings and even returned them yet did not slow in her mission, continuing to wade through the crowd with two humans and a bluebird at her heels. She came to a stop in front of the largest figure in the room, jumping up atop a hay bale to look the figure in the eye.

“Ah, Remy. Nice to see you again. What can I do for you?” the figure asked, coming to life. Logan shrieked at the sudden movement and shoved Patton behind them in an effort to protect him. The music stopped and every eye in the room turned to stare at them, causing Logan’s anxiety to spike even more. Remy ignored the stares and continued on with her mission, sitting down and smiling at the figure.

“Well, Enoch, these two are lost and need a place to stay away from the Beast for a night or two. I figured you would give them sanctuary,” Remy drawled, tail flickering slightly. The giant hummed, contemplating Remy’s request, before straightening and walking over to loom over Logan and Patton. Virgil growled a bit and flitted over to Remy, leaving the two humans surrounded by masked figures and utterly trapped and at the mercy of these strangers.

“Hello, little travellers. What are your names?” Logan gulped and hugged Patton closer to their side, still on-edge. Patton, however, had no such qualms, and immediately squirmed away from Logan to beam up at the terrifying figure.

“I’m Patton, and that’s my brother Logan!” Logan flinched, still unwilling to correct Patton, even in the face of a stream of misgendering. Virgil and Remy both shot them curious looks, but the large pumpkin-headed figure, Enoch apparently, ignored that, peering down at Logan to inspect and judge them.

“Well, Logan the Elder, why have you come?” Logan gulped and steadied their nerves before opening their mouth to speak.

“I… we’re simple pilgrims, seeking sanctuary and a way to return home,” they called, voice crackling and wavering, from puberty or anxiety Logan could not tell. Enoch the pumpkin head leaned back, humming. He seemed to come to a consensus extremely quickly and nodded before leaning down again.

“I can provide you with sanctuary from the Beast and directions home, but first, you and your brother must do a favour for me.” Logan nodded; the offer seemed reasonable enough, after all. Nothing in this world was ever free, Logan knew, even at the tender age of 14. Even love was not free; it must be earned.

“The harvest season approaches. I need you and your brother to dig holes in our fields for the harvest. The day is not close to over yet, so you may start immediately.” Patton’s eyes dimmed a bit, but Logan took the offer gratefully, shepherding Patton out the door and following a helpful pumpkin-headed woman to the fields to begin their laborious task. She handed both Patton and they a shovel, and Logan moved to set to work before a clink and a hard jolt stopped them in their tracks. They looked down, horror slowly oozing across their features, as they noticed a ball and chain wrapped around their ankle.

“Yeah, pal, we all have that except for Remy here,” Virgil’s voice called. Logan glanced up to find the bluebird glaring at his own ankle, a miniature ball and chain wrapped around it. Remy sat nearby, grooming herself, and she peered at Logan with slitted pupils.

“Relax, it’s a precaution Enoch takes with everyone. If you do your work, you will be fine.” Logan bit their lip but set to digging, already desperate to be free. A mysterious sinking feeling had settled into their stomach, and though they had no clue as to why, they knew it was wise to do as instructed, lest they discover why they felt anxious.

Of course, the universe was not kind to them, and they soon discovered the reason for their uneasy discomfort. Their shovel struck something hard, and a sickening crunch pierced Logan’s eardrums, spiraled down their spine, and settled into their very soul, causing Logan’s breathing to hitch as they stumbled back in horror. They brushed the dirt aside and found bones scattered all throughout this hole. There were bones of humans, the empty skull sockets peering up at them, passing judgement upon their stupid decision to come to this town. Logan’s breathing picked up as warm, sticky tears began to stream down their face.

“Whoa, Logan! You okay?!” Virgil chirped, dragging himself over to the edge of the whole to peer down at Logan. Logan shook their head and sunk down, curling into a tight ball as they sobbed. “Logan, can you answer me?”

“Lolo?” Patton called, young high voice soft with worry and care. Logan sniffed but could not settle their breathing or their heartbeat, the inevitability of their own death dangling over their head.

A shuffling sound met Logan’s ears and they curled up tighter, crying harder, preparing to be buried alive. Instead, a warm lump of fur curled up next to them, gently hitting their side with something warm and soft. Logan startled and looked up, eyes still watering, to see Remy staring at them with wide, sympathetic eyes.

“Logan, I assure you, you are not in any danger. Death is not coming for you today,” Remy soothed, placing a paw on Logan’s leg. Logan blinked, confused, and Remy smiled before explaining. “The residents of Pottsfield are all dead. The deceased belonging to the Unknown all are brought here to be given new life. You and your brother have merely freed the new residents. You will not be killed. You will not be buried. You are perfectly safe.”

“My apologies for the reaction, then,” Logan sniffed, standing up and dusting off their pants. “Let me finish freeing this person, then.”

Logan finished digging out the whole and was lifted out by two of the Pottsfield residents, only having a moment to regain their footing before almost toppling over from the force of Patton’s hug. Virgil settled onto Logan’s shoulder and Remy wound herself around Logan’s legs. The pumpkin-headed leader of Pottsville— Enoch, if Logan remembered correctly— strolled up to them, leaning down and blinking languidly into Logan’s eyes.

“My thanks for completing this task for me. Join us for the festival before staying in the inn for the night. I assure you, no harm shall come to you while you rest here.” Logan nodded shakily, attempting to convey their immense thanks, but Virgil managed to pick up on their thoughts and voiced them for Logan.

“Thank you for not killing us, Pumpkin King,” Virgil chirped. Enoch and Remy burst into laughter, and soon enough, Logan and Virgil joined them. Patton had apparently already made friends with the locals and had joined the festivities, Logan soon being lead over by Remy and Enoch, Virgil perched on their shoulder. Logan relaxed slightly upon feeling the cheer radiating from the residents and walked over to the table laden with harvested foods, picking up a small ear of corn and nibbling on it.

They are quickly yanked into the festivities, pulled into a dance by Enoch himself. Logan silently thanked Joan for teaching them how to do a square dance at one point, glad they were not making a fool of themself as a result. Enoch laughed in a deep, rich tenor and spun Logan a bit. Logan blinked, trying to regain their balance, and some other person gently grabbed their shoulders to help steady them. Logan finally regained their bearings and went to thank the person, yet they beat them to speaking.

“Logan, yes? My immense thanks for freeing me,” the person said, voice high and dripping with sincere gratitude. Logan blinked, confused, as their brain processed the statement. The pieces eventually slotted into place, and they flushed, stammering out an awkward “It was nothing.” The girl giggled and pecked them on the cheek before vanishing into the crowd, leaving Logan standing there, frozen in shock and embarrassment.

“Does Logan have a crush?” Patton asked, Logan startling as they felt a tug on their cloak.

“No, no I do not,” they snapped. “She was expressing her gratitude for digging her out.”

“But she kissed you. Kissing only happens when someone likes someone else,” Patton answered, eyes wide with certainty. “Kind of like you and Joan.”

“We’re not talking about Joan,” Logan gritted out. “You know what? Just… find Virgil. Enjoy the party. I’m going to find the inn.” With that, they stalked off, leaving Patton standing alone in the middle of the dance floor, confused.

********************************************

“Good luck, travelers. Remember to trust no one you meet along the way,” Enoch called after the small group as they traveled on the path out of Pottsville. Logan waved goodbye, silent in contemplation, while Patton yelled back his thanks. Soon enough, the four of them were engulfed by the thick trees, and Logan paused.

“How are we getting home?” they asked, panic clenching their windpipe smaller. Virgil blinked and turned around, head cocking to the side.

“Um, well… there’s this witch I’ve heard of. Talyn. They can most likely get you home?” Virgil shrugged at the end, looking uncertain, and while Logan was about to suggest finding another way if Virgil was not sure, Patton jumped in, excited.

“Yes! Let’s go find Talyn!” Patton cheered before bursting into song. Logan groaned and rolled their eyes, pulling their hat further over their ears in a vain attempt to block out Patton’s off-key, high-pitched singing.

“Your brother is really something else, isn’t he?” Virgil commented, landing on Logan’s shoulder. “Probably has a lot of friends back home.”

“Oh, he does. More than I do, at least. Hell, I’m convinced most of my classmates are closer with him than with me,” Logan answered, hoping the quaver in their voice had not been heard.

“Relax, Logan. You still have time to make friends. You just have to get to know people. You have time if you get back home.” Logan stopped, breath wheezing out of their lungs as their legs shook. Virgil’s beak snapped shut as he took in Logan’s state, the pieces connecting in a horrifying picture, and he flew off to grab Remy’s tail and bring the cat’s attention back to the panicking teen. They turned, tail swishing in irritation (Virgil realized with a start that he could tell Remy’s pronouns had switched. He did not want to know how he knew), before their eyes fell on the panicking Logan, who had sunk to the ground and curled up into a ball. Remy dashed over, Patton close behind, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Logan, sweetheart, can you hear me?” Remy meowed, rubbing against their leg. They just curled into themself even more, and Remy backed off instantly. Patton, however, did not comprehend what was going on, and pulled Logan into a hug, ignoring the way Logan’s breathing worsened and tears started to fall faster.

“Lolo, it’s okay. Do I need to kiss away the hurt?” Virgil gritted his teeth and shot Remy a look, the black cat understanding instantly and curling their tail around Patton’s wrist.

“Patton, sweetie, let’s give Logan some space,” they murmured. Patton shook his head stubbornly and clung tighter.

“No, hugging always makes me feel better, so it has to make Logan feel better too!” Patton insisted. Virgil shook his head, scarily in unison with Logan’s, but luckily Remy was calm and collected, trying to get Patton to let go by himself.

“Sometimes hugs don’t work, sweetie. Logan’s told me hugs don’t work. Why don’t you let go and you can maybe hug him later, okay?” Patton blinked but complied, slowly letting go and shuffling away, Remy following him and allowing Virgil to calm Logan down.

“Okay, Logan, can you breathe in for 4 seconds with me? Then hold for 7, and exhale for 8. Can you do that with me?” Virgil asked softly, perching on the ground in front of Logan. He exaggerated his breathing, and slowly, slower than Virgil would like, Logan managed to match Virgil’s breathing.

“My… my apologies, that was silly of me,” Logan mumbled. Virgil shook his head and hopped closer, glaring up at Logan.

“Nope, not silly, don’t apologize,” he growled. “I made you panic by being an ass.”

“But you’re right-”

“No! You’re going to get back home! I’m making sure of it!” Virgil yelled, feathers puffing up. Logan flinched, and Virgil lowered his voice to continue talking. “You’re getting home, Logan. I’m sorry for suggesting that you won’t.”

“It… it is quite alright, Virgil,” Logan murmured, voice ringing clear in the near-silent air around them. “I know you didn’t meant to.”

“Good. You’re going to get home, Logan, you and Patton. Now, let’s find a place for the night.” Logan nodded and stood up, scooping up Virgil and continuing along the path, ignoring the sad eyes of Patton staring at their back.

***************************************************

That night, Virgil watched and waited, ensuring that both humans were asleep before taking off, flying through the air, relying on the magic of the Unknown to allow him to reach his location faster. The Unknown listened, perhaps knowing how important his task was, and he landed on the windowsill of the house after only a few minutes of flying.

“Come in, come in, you know I don’t like the horrid night air,” a voice rasped out. Virgil slipped inside, leaving the window cracked so he could quickly escape if needed.

“Talyn. I can’t do it.” The witch in front of him froze and turned, amber eyes flashing dangerously. Virgil shoved down the anxiety and glared up at Talyn, refusing to back down this time. This was important; he could not allow any harm to come to Logan or Patton, not after he had discovered a growing attachment to both of them.

“So you’re going back on our deal? Is your family really that much more important?” Talyn growled, voice dripping with sweet poisoned honey. Virgil rolled his eyes and fluffed his feathers in defiance, giving the bird equivalent of a smirk to Talyn.

“My family would approve of my choice, so fuck off. Goodbye forever.” With that, Virgil hopped off the windowsill and flew away, ignoring the screeching curses Talyn hurled at him. He laughed, feeling the lightness of freedom from his devil’s bargain washing over him. The Unknown, sensing his happiness, allowed him to find his group again, this time much faster.

He landed on the branch above Logan, ruffling out his feathers before settling in, only to be startled by the smooth voice of Remy.

“Where were you, Chickadee?” Remy growled, tail swishing and violet eyes narrowed. Virgil froze, feathers puffing up in fear, as he turned to meet the glowing, vicious eyes of the black cat.

“Remember how I mentioned Talyn?”

“Yes, I was wondering what your game was, bringing up an evil witch who is known to kidnap and damage children,” Remy hissed, eyes narrowed. Virgil flinched back but stood his ground, determined to not cow before Remy.

“I made a deal with them.”

“You what,” Remy hissed, claws unsheathing. Virgil took a deep breath and finished.

“And I basically just told them to fuck off because I’m not helping them anymore.” Remy snorted, hackles instantly lowering. Virgil giggled a bit with them, and all the tension evaporated from the air almost instantly.

“That… that was brilliant,” Remy gasped out, tears leaking from their eyes. Virgil nodded, still giggling, and leaned into Remy.

“They’ll be safe,” Virgil whispered. Remy purred in agreement, and that is how the two of them fell asleep, curled into each other’s sides and content rumbling up through their throats.

#otgw au #big bang 2019 #panic attacks #angst

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