#I was wondering when these cats would become a recognized breed

[meaeris]

beyond all expectations

pairing: sebastian sallow x f.mc

genres: fluff, (a little) angst

summary: in which the protagonist is practicing to become an animagus and things, contrary to her expectations, go exactly as planned. more or less.

warnings: takes place one year later. spoiler for sebastian's quest. mention of character's death. hurt/trauma. Mc has a random name because i don't like using y/n or 2nd pov.

A.N. hi! i don't usually write fanfictions since english is not my first language, but i had this cute scenario in mind and had to write it down, so forgive some mistakes and inaccuracies. this is a repost from ao3. thank you for reading and interactions are super appreciated!

The problem was that Allie, wonder-child and proud Slytherin, had underestimated her abilities.

She didn't think for a moment that she would be able to transform so soon and, above all, she didn't think that the transformation would be so well executed that she wouldn’t be able to return to her human form.

"Don't panic" she thought, panicking.

Certainly Hogwarts couldn’t be defined as a cheap structure in terms of grandeur, yet now everything around her appeared immensely bigger and infinitely more majestic. She turned around and watched her own tail wag furiously behind her. Cats do that when they're nervous, right? She didn't know. She wasn't a cat expert whatsoever, for the only ones she had to deal with were the ones that roamed the castle. And now, herself.

A wave of delusion swept over her. It couldn't have been worse. Of all the animals she could turn into, a cat? Such a common animal? Her Slytherin pride was more than slightly hurt. Peering through some reflective surfaces, she managed to take a glimpse of her appearances: short gray fur, slender paws and deep aquamarine eyes. She wasn't just some common breed, at least. What was it called? A russian blue? Perhaps. Although there weren't traces of blue whatsoever.

The girl-prodigy (that's how some people called her) tried and retried several times to return to her normal form. She failed. A Slytherin who couldn't revert back a spell? What would her housemates say? What would her professors say? And after everything she had accomplished the year before! Defeated goblins, dragons, dark wizards… yet now the obstacle was herself.

She sneaked out of the girls' bathroom where she had been practicing until a few minutes ago and attempted to interact with the other students. Maybe someone would recognize her?

Misplaced hopes. Everyone mistook her for an ordinary cat, one of the many that occupied the school. Only a tiny less friendly, as she hissed and quickly sprang away whenever someone tried to pet her.

"Merlin's beard, why is this castle so big?!" she thought more and more irritated. She had no idea what to do. The worst thing? She could involuntarily transform back any time and end up naked in the corridors. In front of everyone. No. She would rather remain a cat forever.

"Of course, the wand! I'm an idiot, I could have brought it with me. Maybe showing it to someone will make them realize it's me."

She went back, not without getting lost a couple of times. Her sense of direction, now that she was seeing everything from a different perspective, had definitely worsened. The bathrooms were empty, and the room in which she had changed was still locked from the inside. With difficulty, she slipped again under the wooden doors and found her wand submerged by the clothes. She took the wand with her mouth, but she couldn’t manage to make it pass through the big pile of clothing. She wasn’t used to her feline body yet and everything felt like learning to walk for the first time. Her mouth felt stuck and the wand abnormally heavy. From bad to worse, no one would have noticed her clothes because from the outside it would have looked like an occupied bathroom.

She got an idea. She headed to Professor Onai's divination classroom, hoping to run into Natty. As the only Animagus she knew, the Gryffindor girl was aware of her attempts to become one. But so far every attempt had been unsuccessfull. Until that day.

She arrived at the entrance of the classroom, but realized she had forgotten an important detail: the ladder in front of her. She would have never been able to climb it, not in this form. She started meowing wildly, hoping someone would hear. It worked. Professor Onai, perhaps annoyed by that cry (which in her hindsight sounded more like a cat about to vomit), looked out from the upper entrance with a soft smile.

- You can't stay here, little one. Class is about to start. Shoo!

And that was that. The teacher disappeared and the girl (cat) stood there, looking up, as if expecting divine help. She cursed (meowing).

The lesson would last a long time, she didn't have time to wait. She had to do something.

If Natty wasn't available, there were only two options left.

She wasn't too proud of it, but in two years at Hogwarts she hadn't managed to make that many friends. Despite everything she'd done to save the school? Well... yes. But perhaps it was her fault, as she’d never been the reincarnation of friendship and affection, as much as she tried. Only Ominis Gaunt and Sebastian Sallow could define themselves as “companions”, at the moment. A direct consequence of sharing a deadly adventure that ends in tragedy. Natty and Poppy? Good company, surely, but they didn't have many occasions to meet, being from different houses and all.

It had now been a year since Sebastian's uncle died, and he still hadn't been able to forgive himself. He smiled and joked around much less than before. Everyone noticed that. Ominis, for his part, took a long time to accept things as they were, but when he realized that Sebastian needed friends, now more than ever, he decided that regret was better than anger. The three had become even more close, and they seldom left each other’s side. Although the topic was left untouched and a tense atmosphere was palpable everytime someone received a letter from their relatives.

She immediately thought of Ominis. He was the more conscientious of the two, the one with common sense, some would say, and he would have certainly uncovered her transformation if it wasn’t for a small... technical problem. He would simply hear her meowing madly and he would, rightfully so, ignore her, as he did with most of the cats. Although Sebastian admitted he caught the Gaunt boy secretly feeding them a couple of times.

And Sebastian? Well, let's just say she had been trying to avoid him lately. Not out of malice, but due to the effect that the boy's presence was having on her stomach. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but at the same time... it scared her. She was scared that this feeling had a name. After all, who would ever consider someone like her that way? Sebastian was smart, charismatic and charming, traits that certainly didn't went unnoticed by fellow Slytherin (or not) gals. At the same time, he exuded this unapproachable aura that seemed to scare his suitors away. Although some would say it was due to his close friendship with Ominis, despite the Gaunt boy being one of the kindest people she ever met... despite his, well, mood swings. He certainly didn't deserve such a treatment just because of his family reputation.

At the moment she had no choice. Burying useless emotions inside, she knew where Sebastian was, for they roamed together so often now that she had learned their schedules. She made her way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower and luckily, she spotted Sebastian walking out of the classroom. She waited until he was isolated from the other students and tried to get his attention. She waddled towards him and began meowing at his legs.

"Sebastian! It's me!"

- Hello there, small one. Are you looking for attention? - said the boy, kneeling at the height of the feline. His scottish accent sounded more pronounced with her feline ears.

"NO! I mean, yes, but not in that way!"

- How precocious. Are you hungry?

"No! I mean, I kinda am now that I think about it... but that's not important now!"

She tried everything: she rolled, jumped, scratched his shoes (which caused a gasp of disappointment) and even tried to stand on two legs. All of which only contributed to the "hungry cat" image that Sebastian already had. Other than making her own head spin.

- I'm sorry, I don't have any food for you - Sebastian shook his head in amusement and started to walk away, but Allie, desperate, followed him. A few minutes later Ominis showed up, wand in hand.

- What’s going on? – he asked, probably having heard the miserable cry from afar.

- I don’t know, this cat seems to be mad at me. It's been following me since I left the classroom.

"Then ask yourself some questions!"

Ominis raised an eyebrow.

- Maybe it's hungry. Or in heat.

"OMINIS!"

The two laughed and simply left her there.

“Come back, you buffoons! Don't leave me alone!”

- Shall we go to the Undercroft? Allie should join us soon.

Of course! Only the three of them knew about that place. If she showed that she knew, somehow, maybe they would finally put two and two together. Besides, if she was late, they would get suspicious. She was never late for anything. Of course, except that time she managed to be late for her sorting ceremony, but that was a special case out of her control.

She ran away, under Sebastian's perplexed gaze, and preceded them towards the entrance to the Undercroft, a gothic clock meticulously decorated by blue and gold hues, an elegant design that recalled the starry sky.

The only positive thing about the situation was that she got there before them, thanks to her four legs.

When Sebastian noticed her, he didn't hide a surprised grin. It didn't happen often, but the freckles on the boy's face seemed to stand out even more. She liked that expression a lot and, for a second, thought it was kinda cute.

- What the...

Ominis lowered his wand.

- What are you doing here? - Sebastian remarked more and more confused.

- Did it follow us?

- I'm positive it got here before us.

-Well, it's a cat… it wouldn't surprise me if it knew this place better than we do.

"Ominis, you and your logic, shut up for once!"

Sebastian abandoned himself to a slight smirk.

- Well, I don't think a cat might blurt out anything about this place. If it wants to come, let it come.

After her meow of approval, Sebastian walked over and bent down to pick her up. Normally she would have wriggled herself free if it was anyone else. But Sebastian wasn't anyone else. She relaxed and the floor moved far from of her view, making her feel slightly dizzy. She may have been a cat, but she’d been one for less than an hour.

Sebastian snuggled her into his arms and her heart went crazy, leaping into her throat.

- It's purring - Ominis noted, hinting a smile.

- And here I thought you hated me - Sebastian joked with his typical flirty tone.

“I want to dig a hole and bury myself in.”

When this was over, she was going to obliviate anyone that knew, she thought. They crossed the rusty gate and, once inside, Sebastian left her on the ground. The poor teen (cat), still panicking and probably thinking about a spell for grave-digging, didn't move for a couple of minutes.

- It could keep us company, as long as we are careful not to cast spells on him by mistake - Sebastian suggested, taking off his robe and placing it on the ground in a corner. He took out his wand and twirled it with his wrist, as if practicing movements.

- Are you sure it’s a him?

- I don’t know.

- I've heard that females have a smaller head compared to males.

Sebastian looked closely at her, who was now sitting next to them. If any other cat saw her right now, they would have probably stayed kilometers away from her.

- I frankly can't tell... if nothing else, I almost have the impression that it can understand what we're saying.

"I do in fact, and yet you're just spouting nonsense!"

She meowed in disapproval and two heads whipped towards her.

- See? - said the brunette.

- It is kinda bizarre - Ominis confirmed, perplexed.

- Maybe it belongs to someone and it got lost. We should take it to the professors later.

"You two are definitely not Ravenclaw."

The two spoke no more. Sebastian practiced with the training dummies while Ominis read a book in braille.

She had run out of ideas. She had tried everything, and the two seemed to ask the right questions, but not enough. So she just lay there, taking everything in for once, admiring her friends. Maybe it was the new point of view, but Sebastian definitely got taller, compared to last year. Taller and sturdier, although his complexion remained the perfect mix of soft and manly features. Ominis didn't change much, but bis cheekbones were more prominent and slightly higher, framing a tad more mature face. On the other hand, she remained exactly as she's always been, if not with increased dark circles and puffiness under her eyes.

An hour later Sebastian realized something was wrong.

- She's late - he observed, leaning against a big box and taking a breath. - How many times has it happened so far?

- In two years? Never, - Ominis confirmed, - Except that time she was held by Professor Garlick for being bitten on the ear by a chomping cabbage.

- That was actually rather funny. It was the first time I saw Allie spill some tears.

At the mention of her name (and trying really hard to ignore what he’d just said), she got up and leapt at Sebastian's legs, meowing so wildly that from afar it would have sounded like someone was torturing a stray cat.

This attracted Ominis' attention, who took his hands away from the book and placed it at his feet. He was getting suspicious.

Sebastian knelt down and inquisitively looked into her light eyes. She reciprocated, but that strange feeling in her stomach didn't take long to manifest.

- Here’s the thing… - he began, tilting his head towards Ominis with his eyes half closed. - Didn't Allie say she was training to become an Animagus?

Ominis knew immediately what he was implying. - For some months, yes.

- Did she ever succeed?

- As far as I know, never.

She meowed again and spun around.

Sebastian's eyes seemed to light up for a moment.

- Could it be... is that you, Allie?

"At last! Honour your name, Mr Sallow!"

She meowed and jumped, twice.

Sebastian took his wand, pointed it at the animal and spelt "Revelio!".

Nothing happened.

Sebastian sighed. - Maybe I'm reading too much into it...

At this, before Ominis could intervene, she lost her patience and grabbed his trousers with her pointed teeth, biting his skin in the process.

- Ouch! Okay, wait, let me try again! What was the spell... I read it once in a book of transfiguration…

He thought about it for a moment, until he snapped his fingers in ecstasy. He cast a spell she had never heard before and a blue light enveloped her body. For a moment she felt nothing. Then she sensed that her body began to change. Without thinking twice, she ran over to the robe Sebastian had set down earlier and mentally thanked him for doing so.

The transformation was undone and Allie found herself with Sebastian's robe wrapped around her body.

- Finally! Everything is at its right height. That was horrible! - she cried, stretching and shrinking in order to feel her bones again.

Perhaps from the effect of the spell, or perhaps from the sudden cold of the dungeons, she sneezed.

- Merlin! - Sebastian exclaimed, and turned away uneasy with eyes wide open.

- Allie? It's you? - Ominis asked, turning towards her, and for once she was thankful that he couldn't see.

Sebastian was looking at the wall. - What the bloody hell happened?

- I wish I knew! I was practicing the whole Animagus thing in the bathrooms, when suddenly it worked, and I...

- You were practicing? - Sebastian repeated.

- Yes.

- In the bathrooms? - he began to turn around to show his disappointment, but soon realized the embarrassing situation she was in and changed his mind.

-Yes. I mean, no... wait, that doesn't matter! Contrary to my predictions, it worked, too well in fact, and I couldn't turn back. Took you long enough to notice!

- How were we supposed to know?! You could have asked the professors!

- Ask, how, exactly? All I could do was meow. And besides, admit to a professor that I failed such a simple thing after all I've been through? No way. It would have been humiliating!

Sebastian didn't say anything more, as if he got the point.

- Well, for instance... you should put some clothes on.

She blushed furiously. - I would do it myself, but my wand was left in the bathroom along with everything else.

- It's fine - interrupted Ominis. - I'll go get them.

Probably understanding the situation better than Sebastian, Ominis offered himself to go retrieve everything. How, she didn't want to ask, but she trusted Ominis more than anyone.

- Thank you...

Ominis went through the secret passage. Two of them were left.

She sighed, both tired and awkward about the whole situation. - I'm sorry for all this mess. I really didn't think it would work… it was honestly just for fun.

Sebastian sighed and seemed to realize the irony of the situation. He giggled. - It's all right. But I think you should stop underestimating yourself so much.

She slumped her shoulders. Maybe it was the tense situation, or maybe it was the fact that she felt naked for the first time in front of someone (metaphorically and physically). She felt like confiding in Sebastian. - You'd think that after all that happened last year I'd be more confident, but it's not easy.

Sebastian crouched, leaning against a stone wall, a leg bent over his chest, the other stretched on the cold floor. He turned to look into her eyes, feeling the discussion was getting serious.

- You guys had four years to practice magic, but I had just one year to catch up with you lots. And yet everyone has expectations from me. I have to prove myself, and I have to do it quickly. Otherwise-

"I may as well turn back to my pitiful muggle life" she thought, but didn't say it out loud.

- I think you proved yourself enough - Sebastian admitted, not without a hint of irritation. - The goblins, the whole business with Anne and... my uncle. You've endured more than any Hogwarts student ever had. You should be proud of yourself.

- Only because I was not alone.

She was staring at him and he understood. He suddenly found his shoes more interesting than everything else in the room.

There had never been a real discussion after the events of the previous year. Perhaps out of fear, or shame, or both, but none of the three ever dared to press the subject. Therefore what she said next was like opening a forbidden box.

- I'm so sorry about your uncle.

He tightened his fists. - Yes, well... I've been living with regret all this time, and it's what I deserve. I haven’t heard from Anne since.

She looked at the ceiling and gripped the dark robe closer. - I won't tell you that with time she will change her mind and forgive you, because I don't know. But I think that it's never too late to redeem yourself.

- But how? - Sebastian asked, hiding a stutter.

- I don't know... Only time will tell.

Sebastian raised his head. He had those afflicted eyes that Allie couldn't stand to see. If she had some way to turn back time, she would do anything to stop Sebastian from casting that damned spell. If there was a dark magic spell that could help rewrite the past, she would cast it with no hesitation.

"What a hypocrite I am."

She suddenly had this urge to get up and hug him, but she obviously couldn't. For multiple reasons.

Sensing her feelings, he simply said, - Thank you, - and that was enough. The two smiled awkwardly at each other. After a while, he spoke again. - I have a question, if you don't mind. Have you been avoiding me lately?

She swallowed. - What makes you think that?

- I don't know... just an impression.

- It is. I would never avoid you.

She didn't mean anything by it, especially because it was a lie, but for some reason such a simple sentence felt like it had a double meaning. Sebastian seemed to grasp it too, and he scratched the back of his neck.

Not much time later, Ominis came back with her clothing and wand. She changed herself with magic as quickly as she could.

- How did you get these in the girl's bathroom? - Sebastian asked warily.

- Let's not get into details.

***

After thanking Ominis multiple times, she left the Undercroft for Potion class, while the other two gathered their things and slowly made their way out.

- What did the two of you do while I was gone?

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. - We talked?

- About what?

- Just small talk.

- Really.

Silence.

- You held her in your arms. And she purred.

Sebastian cheeks flushed and he was glad that Ominis couldn't see.

- Don't you start again, Ominis.

[novankenn]

Four of a Kind... WHY stop there?

/== Master Post List ==/

Fiona Thyme was not having a good time. Robyn had asked for a volunteer to go to Vale to keep tabs on Ironwood and Atlas' military... which should be protecting Mantel and not some "academy pissing contest", as Robyn put it. Fiona stepped forward, and now she was wishing she hadn't.

The job was simple enough... it was just the crowds. They were just causing her so much stress. Yet here she was on a guided tour of Beacon. She had to admit, Beacon was a nice looking school. Much less utilitarian that Atlas. She had just about gotten over her nerves when she froze, there were two people standing very close to her. As she stood there she watched the tour group move further and further away.

????: You're adorable!

Fiona: Ex... excuse me?

????: Yes she is. Sister Weiss, do you think Sister Pyrrha would mind?

Fiona stepped away and turned to face whomever had gotten so close to her. She froze when she saw a pair of young woman, both in blue dresses, trimmed with golden thread. She easily recognized Weiss Schnee, but not her companion.

Fiona: Ex... excuse me? Who are you and what are you doing?

Weiss: My apologies. This is my Sister Ruby.

Ruby: Hello.

Fiona: Hello?

Weiss: What are you thoughts on... children?

Fiona: Ah... what?

Ruby: She and Jaune would make rather precious little ones, don't you think?

Weiss: I agree.

Fiona: What are you two...

As one Ruby and Weiss, moved in. Hooking their arms through Fiona's they started to walk, causing Fiona to stumble and fall in step with them.

Fiona: HEY!!! Let me go! What are you doing?

Ruby/ Weiss: You have been chosen. Come sister-to-be, join us in making a better world.

Fiona: HELP!

Fiona tried to struggle, but the pair of young woman holding her were much stronger than one would have thought just from looking at them. But what was worse was how even though she was screaming for help... EVERYONE just vanished... like literally took off running in the opposite direction.

Weiss: Sister Pyrrha!

Ruby: We have found an initiate!

Fiona's face paled as she saw someone anyone would recognize... Pyrrha Nikos, also wearing the same dress as Ruby and Weiss... but what was really troubling was the struggling form of a red haired cat faunus draped over Pyrrha's shoulder like a bag of potatoes.

Pyrrha: How wonderful! I have discovered one as well!

Ruby/ Weiss: The King Mother will be over joyed! Blessed be the grand-babies!

Pyrrha: Blessed be the grand-babies.

????: LET ME GO YOU PYSCHO!!! I"M NOT BECOMING SOME FEISTISH BREEDING BITCH FOR YOUR SICK GAMES!!!

Weiss: Sister Pyrrha, that language.

Pyrrha: Neon. Enough.

Neon: STUFF IT BI... *Smack!* ... EEP! You just slapped my ASS!

Pyrrha: Shall I spank you again?

Neon: No...

Pyrrha: Thank you. Now who is you initiate?

Fiona: Fi... Fiona Thyme.

Pyrrha / Weiss / Ruby: SO PRECIOUS!!!

Fiona blushed at the praise, and then grew scared again as the group was once again moving. But they approached a very ominous looking door, fear spiked in side her, and Neon. It jumped even further when the door opened and Professor Goodwitch, also wearing a blue dress trimmed with golden thread stepped out.

Neon/ Fiona : HELP US!!!!

Glynda: Sisters, welcome back. The King mother wishes for a conference after the evening meal.

Neon/ Fiona: Please! Please!

The door snapped shut with an ominous thud when all six figures stepped inside the room. Across the hall a pair of heads peeked out into the hall.

Yang: This is starting to get out of hand. We should do something... or warn someone...

Blake: Yang, honey... do you really want to go head to head with a group that has Pyrrha, Professor Goodwitch, Weiss, your sister Ruby, May Zednog, Arslan Atlan, Neo, and Jaune?

Yang: Not really... but we can't just not do something!

Blake: I'll tell you what we will do, my little Sundragon.

Yang: (Blushing) ...

Blake: We are going to keep you as far away from those nut-cases as possible. I am NOT loosing my blond.

Yang: Huh?

Blake: Yang, I love you... and we're moving to Menagerie. We'll live with my parents until we can get our own place.

Yang:.. you love me?

Blake: Yes, now call your dad, tell him your moving in with your girl-friend, I'll start packing.

Blake gives Yang a quick peck on the lips, and then flutters her eye lashes at her.

Yang: Okay.

/====/ A/N : Well I have been give more suggestions... so I'll see what I can do to keep this insanity going.

Thanks to @freshmiraclecheesecake for suggestion Neon Katt, and thanks to @allday2006 for the suggestion of Fiona Thyme. Also Thank you to @segmentaldragon for the list of "potential initiates"... let's see if I can get a few more of these out?

[hanazou]

Can I request headcanons for Dazai, Chuuya, Oda, and Atsushi with an s/o that loves animals? Like they have cats and dogs, maybe fish or a bird. They just generally love taking care of animals and learning about them. And they can't help but take pictures and videos of there pets being cute because they love them so much.

╰ ⋆ ଓ. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐒/𝐎 • ₊˚

𓏸֢  . dazai , chuuya , odasaku , atsushi x gn!reader

𓏸֢  . I am not back on my b*llshit. literally made this last year. I didn't post it because I'm not satisfied but its been literal months since I posted content, so why not let it out?

DAZAI enjoys watching you get affectionate with animals, taking his time to observe you before you pull him into doing it too.

Dogs aren't an exception. Sort of. He has complex feelings seeing you play with dogs the most, especially strays.

It's pleasing to see you become so warm; he likes the innocence that comes with it.

He thinks it's cute how you raise your pitch (read: babifying yourself) when talking to animals despite knowing they don't understand you.

Dazai likes to watch you from behind whenever you crouch to play with stray animals, hands in his pockets, smiling to himself

It doesn't stop him from making stupid jokes though.

"What if I feed that dog a chocolate bar?"

"Wanna die?"

"Oh, by all means! ... But are you really going to end me over a dog?”

He might soften up enough to show tricks.

He asks you to give him the treat you prepare for the animal, puts it in his hand, and whoosh it's suddenly gone from his palm

If you act cute he might teach you how to do it so you can entertain your pet.

Dazai definitely gets you an electronic robotic animal toy at some point to tease you. Not a furby—something cuter and less cursed. There are plenty of those in Japan

He wants the privilege to name it and it's going to sound so stupid.

When you clock in for work, sometimes he asks "How's White Gravy Monster doing?"

"Please stop calling it that."

He has your favourite animals and their breeds (secretly) memorized.

More often than not, he sends unsolicited cursed pictures of said animals, like ones you’d see in reddit or facebook

He’ll stop if you smack him hard enough or show him genuine distressed signs

Dazai plays the jealousy act when you send him cute animal pictures a little too many to give him the opportunity.

“Look at the duckling I spotted yesterday after work!”

“Duckling this, kitten that, what about me? Aren’t I cute enough?????”

“...What are you, a stray animal?”

“Is that what it takes to be pampered? Easy enough.”

If you work in ADA with him, best believe he’s going to make animal noises to disrupt your job or startle you.

He caws in your ear like a shocked cat to make you shriek (and hit his face in reflex)

He purrs like a cat to get a pat on the head but claims that he’s “trying to imitate Atsushi-kun”

Dazai pits you together with Atsushi, Naomi, and Fukuzawa who are total animal lovers. He calls you (except Fukuzawa) softies.

Your love for animals boosts your compatibility with CHUUYA and it makes your relationship extra jazzy too.

Bonus points if your favourites are also dogs. If they’re not your favourite, that’s not a problem either. He gets along well with most animals unless they’re aggressive.

He tries to keep his cool during the interaction.

He's super knowledgeable about breeds. He can recognize the mixed ones quite accurately too.

You and Chuuya like to daydream about what it's like to be a pet owner. He's confident you two would make good pet parents if it wasn't for hectic schedules.

He likes it if you randomly text him cute animal pictures you find on social media.

"That's cute. Is that a shih tzu mixed with a pomeranian?"

".....How did you even know that?"

Cue the chihuahua jokes

"This chihuahua looks like you~! o(≧▽≦)o"

"Oi oi. Are you trying to pick a fight?"

He wonders if buying you a pet for your birthday will make a good gift but he knows the demanding set of responsibilities that comes with being a pet owner, so it’s just his imagination.

Which is kind of sad, because he's looked up your favourite animals and their breeds and even made separate folders of them. He even asked for Kouyou’s opinion on which is the cutest or which fits your temperament best.

She definitely took the chance to tease him.

So, Chuuya takes you to pet cafés during his leisure time. It’s not often, but once he has the time, you can spend hours there without getting bored.

Definitely takes pics of you scratching their bellies, ears, heads, or booping their noses.

He sets it as your profile picture on his phone too

He's so happy if you invite him to take pictures together with the animals that he has to blink twice.

Mug sized puppies really strike his fancy. He's not against you putting one in the concave of his hat

"Take a picture take a picture take a picture!" You hit his arm.

You use extra detergent to wash off the smell from his clothes but at least he earned cute pictures to stare at.

If you do have a pet or even a dog, he beams up if you invite him to come over to play with them.

Chuuya being Chuuya, he tries to hide it. He clears his throat, pretends to look disinterested, but his eyes can’t hide his eagerness.

"Are you serious? Can I really?"

He ends up staying over for hours because he doesn't want to leave your pet.

He puts your pet on his stomach while lying on the sofa, giving it whatever snack hes eating (if its not toxic).

100/100 snores in that position

ODASAKU is not as hardcore of an animal lover compared to Chuuya but he does have obvious soft spots for stray animals.

Especially stray cats.

You and Odasaku make it a habit to bring a tiny pack of cat food around the block to feed the strays.

(Which Ango notices from the smell from Odasaku's jacket)

When you find strays to feed, sometimes you both crouch to observe them eating and forget how long you've stayed in that position until your calves hurt.

You need Odasaku's help to pull you up from the cramps.

If you want to take pictures with your favourites, he does his best. But that doesn't mean the pictures are... good.

"Sakunosuke! Can you take a picture of me with Miku?"

(Now when did you give that cat a name?)

He does take the picture but when he hands you back your phone, the pictures are all... blurry—which is weird because you didn't move and neither did his hand. He has magic hands

No matter how many tries, all pictures end up blurry; it's a mystery. You have to settle with them. It became his signature. If the pictures are blurry, he took them.

He's happy when he sees you use the picture as your profile photo though. Somehow you made the blur look aesthetic.

"You used the pictures from that rainy day," will be all he'll text. But there's a huge smile beneath that stone face God I love him

You and he take the same route home every night to check up on the stray cats.

Is the cardboard box still intact from last night's rain?

Once you got a cold from taking care of the stray cats during the rain despite having him shelter you under his umbrella

You split the vet bills to make sure the kittens are healthy. Lots of kittens don't make it to adulthood, that's what Odasaku has in mind

Oda doesn’t mind keeping the grown up kittens in his unit until you find a shelter for them, but he can't take them all, so you bring some of them

He spreads his jacket above him as an umbrella from the rain. Your head is under his chin. Under your jackets are kittens in your cradle.

Odasaku is very gentle and kind with animals, but he's.. not the most natural when it comes to bonding with them unless they're the proactive ones

If you have a pet, he's going to have a staring contest with it for a while

Your pet wins but only because you called Odasaku, distracting him. It could’ve gone on for much longer

Send him pictures of the animals you find cute, he would definitely respond. Not like he usually ghosts you, there are just more possibilities of him double or even triple texting.

“Look at this kitten~!”

“Cute.�� *saves* “It’s small.” *saves* “Really small.” *saves*

He smiles looking at them. It makes Dazai go "?!?!?!?!?!?"

ATSUSHI is the most (openly) tender and fluffy with animals. Definitely the type to go "Aawh~!" a lot while crouching down and letting the animals interact with his fingers.

He gets along with animals effortlessly and naturally

Somehow attracts strays to come to him too.

All he has to do is have eye contact and they’ll all approach him willingly as if he has snacks.

Your outings/dates with him get slightly interfered with by the strays because of Atsushi 

Another victim of animal jokes. Cue the cat/tiger jokes

"If I scratch your head, are you going to purr too?"

"W-What? No!"

(Kyouka, who listens to your conversation from the distance, wonders about it too. Her little antenna hair stiffens upwards.)

Dazai is your enabler. Take advantage of this. Make him an ally in bullying Atsushi

Imagine Atsushi’s face if you wave catnip in front of his face while going "Here, kitty kitty~"

"Can you go 'nyaa' for me?"

“You’re so mean!”

"Now, Atsushi-kun," Dazai joins. "Aren't you a bad boy for refusing your partner's request?"

As much as you'd have your fun, always make an effort to reassure him that everything is just for giggles and that you don't actually see him as a peculiar half man half tiger.

Compliment him whenever stray cats brush their head against his ankles.

When you ruffle his hair, he fights to swallow down the "hm?" that sounds like a cat purr

Once, he failed to contain it. Things didn't work out in his favour because you won't leave his hair alone for the day to hear more.

A simple "You're so friendly with them" would make his ears steam from softness.

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[therealvinelle]

so, i know the cullens feed on animals but - what kind of pets do you think they would have if they didn't/were human?

Relevant post, covering the cats vs. dogs issue.

Also, I think I'll interpret this ask as "what pet might they have had in life", because if I try to envision the Cullens as humans in the 21st century I'll overthink it and you'll get insanity as your answer.

Alright, so with that in mind...

Alice, gosh, I'm thinking something completely anachronistic, like an exotic bird that Mary Alice kept in a cage, a bird that didn't thrive and eventually died. When she later wound up in the asylum, she wondered if that bird hadn't been a physical manifestation of her gift, warning her of what was to come.

Bella didn't have a pet, but I suppose Charlie might've ended up with one in an AU. Maybe if someone in the neighborhood had a litter of puppies and kittens, and Charlie, lonely as he was before Bella moved to Forks, accepted one in a moment of weakness.

Not much changes, apart from the cat or dog being severely distressed each night soon after Bella moves back home, losing weight and stressing like nobody's business. Charlie has no idea what's causing it. When Edward leaves in New Moon the pet is magically fine again, and Charlie wouldn't have made the connection, too distracted by his daughter's depression, if the pet hadn't returned to its panicked state the moment Edward returns. It becomes another one of Charlie's many reasons for hating Edward, because Charlie has seen enough domestic violence cases to recognize this particular pattern. It is a proof that something bad happens when he's not around.

But, Bella refuses to change her mind about Edward, and he can only stand to the side as she marries him.

Then, after Bella has transformed, the pet is now terrified of her as well.

In the end, Charlie gifts the pet to Billy.

Carlisle, I'm thinking cat. Horses require too much maintenance, and when there was only him and his father there wouldn't be much point in putting in the work and resources for a horse. Yes, horses are nice, but as they lived in the city, in the parish at that, they wouldn't have had much need for a horse. Of course, they might have had one, I confess I don't know much about horse ownership in the 17th century nor about the purchasing power of the 17th century middle class, but I do know horses and they are a lot of work. The Cullens would have needed to rent a box stall, where it would have been an expenditure.

Cats, on the other hand, free to acquire, get rid of the mice and the rats (very necessary in a city like London), and great company. If the Cullens didn't have a cat (or cats plural) of their own then they would have still had neighborhood cats.

Edward I can see as having a dog, that is, Elizabeth Masen might have had a dog. A well trained, purebred dog that she proudly proclaimed to be "so patient with Edward!" when Edward was a dog-ear-pulling-toddler.

Emmett was a huntsman, and so might have had a tracking dog of some kind, or a friend had one that he borrowed - it's very common among hunters that if you don't have a dog of your own, you have a friend who lets you borrow his.

Esme I hope didn't have a pet when she was married to Charles, as it's very common for domestic abusers to threaten to hurt the animal to control their victim. Hopefully she had a wonderful dog when she was a child, though.

Jasper was a high-ranking military man, was probably issued a horse.

Rosalie's parents were social climbers. If they had a pet, it would have been a dog of a breed that said "Hi, we're classy". Alas, I know which breed that would be in contemporary Norway (English. Setter.) but I'm less sure about a 1930's American couple. Americans, I've found, are doing their own thing altogether.

I'd say a Cocker Spaniel, those are old English hunting dogs but also adorable.

[regrettablewritings]

Can I please request B, F, and O for Benoit Blanc? I’m simping for this gentleman sleuth so hard.

I’m surprised you didn’t put DNUT just for the sake of reference 😂  Stuff is below the cut!

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?): While he isn’t against the idea to the point of fighting it, Benoit doesn’t strike me as someone actively looking to start a family, either. At least, not in the most traditional sense of what a family could be. He knows he’s not ancient, but he’s certainly not the very picture of youth, either. There’s plenty of things he’s not afraid to do in fear of appearing odd, but he can’t help but wonder if, perhaps, becoming a father at his age would appear peculiar.

Technically speaking, there’s nothing wrong with it, of course: He’s sure enough men his age have become fathers, and he knows plenty celebrities had at much older stages of life. But no matter what The New Yorker may think, Benoit knows he’s not exactly a celebrity; becoming a father at his age might appear less glamorous. And as flattering as the theory might be, he’s not so sure he’d be comfortable with the world knowing his virility in practice.

But, of course, things don’t always go the way we plan for them to. Just because he’s not actively looking to grow the family doesn’t mean it won’t somehow happen. It’ll catch him by surprise, no doubt, especially given how he’s so used to being able to predict things by calculation and logic, but it’s nothing he’s necessarily going to fight, either. If the great Benoit Blanc is to become a father to an actual baby instead of just a fur baby, then he’s going to accept that position with pride and zeal. (And much confusion, but that’s nothing a lot of research and a handful of classes and Youtube tutorials couldn’t fix.)

Benoit knows the impact a loving parent can have on a child, and he wants to assure any progeny of his is granted that chance. He won’t be a perfect father, he knows that, but he most certainly would want to make an effort to be one that they wouldn’t hate. He’s encountered way too many patricide cases to go lax on it all.

More to the point, however, he’s honestly just content with his family as it currently appears to be. He may come from more traditional and decidedly old-fashion means, but this doesn’t exclude the sleuth from possessing an open-mindedness toward the ever-changing image of what a family could be decreed and recognized to be. And sometimes, a family is just a peacockish gentleman with a thick drawl, his more grounded and snarky partner, and their handsome pet cat who is either plotting their deaths or actually enjoys it when they sing show tunes to him.

There are times when he looks back on his life so far and feels ribbons of regret, however. How might things have turned out if he’d settled down before? Would things have been better? Worse? More or less the same?

Well, whatever the case, he doesn’t intend to dwell on it too often or for too long; you’re here now, and if that’s all there was meant to be, then he’d take it without a moment’s hesitation.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?):

He’s not sure, if truth be told. There wasn’t really a precise moment or even necessarily one singular action that offered him any confirmation. The sting of Cupid’s arrow never actually radiated through him, so much as the realization flitted into his mind as a random memory might. It was simply a matter of fact to him one day: He absolutely adored you.

Part of him wanted to go into detective mode, to use that brain of his and search for a specific date that might have triggered the sensation, or to pester Elliot and Marta by using them as soundboards for his monologues and conclusion. Benoit Blanc is a self-aware man, he’s too old to be caught off guard by his own feelings like a schoolboy. But thankfully for all, he stops himself from doing so when he considers the stance that perhaps the feelings had already been present for months now, that there wasn’t any suddenness to the realization. A sense of jamais vu, but of the emotion. Jamais réalisé. Still, the ever-inquisitive spirit in him thirsted for an answer. He tried to satiate it.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that unlike most, you appeared to enjoy his monologuing. Most people would normally just sit there, the only feedback offered being blank expressions or ones that displayed how thrown off they were about his strange analogies. You, on the other hand, were always listening even when your eyes weren’t directly on him or if you appeared to be busy with something else. Sometimes, if you deemed it necessary, you would even throw in your own input. When he joked about how invested you were, you reasoned that you tended to do the same when you infodumped.

Going off that, he liked when you infodumped: Your entire person would gain a sprightliness to it, particularly in your eyes. The detective truly believed in the value of all sorts of knowledge, and he genuinely did appreciate whatever you had to offer, even when it only appeared to be trivia. The only downside to this was that you almost always would catch yourself and, casting your sights elsewhere, all that vibrancy from before would snuff out like a light. It would darn near break his heart to hear you apologize for “babbling on about such silly things.” He would always insist that it was quite alright, that you needn’t apologize, but you always assumed deep down that he was simply being courteous as all others in his position would be. The truth always was that he was being genuine, you deserved that much.

Maybe he thought you deserved that much because you were relatively patient with him. He didn’t think of himself as a nuisance but Benoit knew that to many, he was more of an acquired taste. He always tried to be polite and considerate but sometimes, his more abrasive traits would come to the foreground, especially when he was on the case. But you never seemed to get especially testy with him as Elliot would. If anything, you were quick to put him in his place with a gently-worded but sternly-spoken reminder that he needed to mind himself.

“The truth can only soothe you so much when you got a foot up your ass,” as you put it once. It got a smile out of him. Of course, he always knew you had some kind of wit about you; one that, while a bit more blunt than his, never failed to make him laugh yet force him to acknowledge the truth. He might’ve been known for his rich vocabulary, but he couldn’t help but admire your own, more direct means of getting the point across. He knew damn well that you understood everything he said, and sometimes he questioned if maybe your responses to him were so straightforward as a means of taunting him over his perceived verboseness.

Even if this were true, he found himself amused every time you opened your mouth. In fact, you were quickly becoming his favorite person to speak to. And he even dared to consider the possibility that, based on how you lit up every time he came to the office, perhaps the same could be said on your part . . .

Well, whatever the case, Benoit never got as far as he’d wanted to whenever he pondered the cause of his feelings for you. Much to his dismay, every effort was thwarted by himself: Every time he came to a theory, he would quickly become sidetracked by other thoughts of you. Eventually he became distracted to the point where every consideration he made could be counted on to be accompanied by some appraisal of your character. In short, he was simultaneously coming up fruitless and fruitful.

But then maybe those were the answers he was looking for. Of course, they weren’t in the usual format he was familiar with but he supposed it was for the best: Feelings weren’t the same breed of mystery as, say, a murder investigation. He didn’t count it as a failure on his part, however (given that Benoit Blanc wasn’t one to quit). No, he decided that perhaps it might’ve been better to keep his work and his play separate. He’d spent enough of his life revolved around solving mysteries, after all; this one, he concluded, was best enjoyed just being experienced as it was.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?):

It’s hard for you to choose, really: Benoit is a rather colorful man, after all, with his bright blue eyes and lack of fear regarding certain male accessories. But you do tend to veer towards shades of green. Specifically, peacock green because not only does he own a suit of similar shading, but also because frankly, due to his dandy-like nature, you couldn’t help but compare him to a peacock in your head. Sure, he lacked the arrogance associated with the bird, but what else could you compare a man with an assortment of floral ties and pretty-patterned pocket squares to?

Similarly, Benoit associates you with the color cranberry because of something in your wardrobe: Specifically, the red cardigan you were wearing the day you both met. Admittedly, he’s a twinge embarrassed that he couldn’t associate you with something more overtly romantic: He remembers that you like pink Starbursts but still give him half of yours; he remembers how you argue that black Converses are “the only valid converses” next to glittery ones; and he has no choice but to remember that godawful brown scarf you refuse to discard because “it’s still a good scarf and you’d already had it for this long.”

But you don’t mind. In fact, you’re elated and nearly swept off your feet at the fact: He remembers all the little things from the moment you two became acquainted, even though at the time he was under no awareness or intention that you would become so important to him. You know that, technically, it’s a part of his job to just commit things to detail, but you’ve seen this man forget website passwords and his own keys. Yet, if anyone were to demand that he recall three things from that fateful day, he would immediately recite about how you had a frog Beanie Baby resting on your computer monitor; that you were stabbing your Chinese takeout lunch with one hand and typing up a report with the other; and that you were wearing a cranberry-colored cardigan.

Sometimes, the first two bits were swapped with different things he remembered (all being true), but the one consistent memory that he would always bring up with be the cranberry cardigan. And frankly, you're satisfied with that bit alone.

Thanks for your patience!

[boat-dock]

Marcel

part 3 of my Mikaelson family oneshots! a little bit of a darker side of Hope cause she is a Mikaelson after all

When Hope’s birthday comes around and Hope faces a surprise visit from her brother, she is forced to fight against her darker impulses and learn to spend the day with people she cares about.

Today was perhaps Hope’s least favorite day of the year. It wasn’t always, but for the last few years, it had become incredibly difficult to enjoy a day dedicated to her, without her parents by her side. No one at the school knew when her birthday is and therefore no one knows to celebrate, which is exactly how she liked it. She normally got calls from her family and some gifts sent in but not much else. 

She was acutely aware that Josie knew when her birthday was because every year the young siphoner always awkwardly approached her in an attempt to be kind, but Hope always dismissed her. However, now that they were friends she was worried that the twins would plan something for her, or just inform everyone else.

It turns out the twins weren’t the ones she needed to be worried about. She should have known that her family wouldn’t just sit idly by as she turned 18. Not that they would treat her as an adult now that the law claimed she was, they were over a thousand years old and would treat her as a child until she was probably half of that. 

She was sitting in her room alone, enjoying her solitude as she normally did every year on her birthday, when a strange and familiar scent hit her; it was of power and principle yet somehow faintly of apples. She knew who it was automatically and confusion overwhelmed her. She slowly made her way out into the hallway and down the stairs following the smell that wafted through the air on autopilot while her mind wandered. 

If Marcel was here why hadn’t he come straight to her? There was no other reason for him to be in town if not to see her. 

The school was bustling with students, but Hope wandered through them in a kind of trance, that smell was like a magnet drawing her in. When she reached the entrance to the school and saw her brother sitting in front of the large burning fireplace surrounded by every vampire that attended the Salvatore school, she froze and waited in the shadows leaning against the door frame.

Marcel was boasting and laughing while the vampires hung onto his every word. White-hot jealousy coursed through her like a snake. She felt every bit of possessiveness that she had worked so hard to overcome her entire life come boiling over and she was powerless to fight against it. The longer she waited the more she worked up she became. 

That’s why when she was spotted hiding in the shadows she behaves in a less than stellar manner. “ Hope,” Mg called perking up when he saw her, “ this is Marcel, he’s the most powerful vampire in existence. Isn’t that awesome?” 

He was hopelessly naive, but that wasn’t a surprise. “ ‘Most powerful Vampire in existence’ that’s quite a title,” her words dripped in sarcasm and were bitter in her mouth. She slipped on a mask, Mikaelson gravitas and grandeur were easy for her to come by. Marcel’s head snapped toward her grinning but when he saw that all too familiar expression on her face he realized exactly what thoughts were prowling around in her mind. “ and you have your own little fan club, how adorable.” She didn’t mean to sound that bitter or cruel but for the first time in a while, Hope didn’t have a good grip on her emotions. 

“You might want to watch yourself, Hope,” Kaleb spoke with an arrogance that could only come from a peaceful ignorance, “ I know you’re used to being big dog on campus but one day you might meet someone more powerful than you.” 

It was a foolish insult but it still made her blood boil. She could easily overpower this entire school without breaking a sweat, not that she would, no matter how angry she was. The Salvator school was a bright spot in the sea of darkness that is the supernatural world, it teaches control and breeds collaboration between the factions, but it was still at its core a high school. Filled with teenagers that intend to act exactly as teenagers do. Most days she doesn’t take it personally, in fact, she considers half of the people in this room her friends, but today things were just too much. 

Marcel, however, wasn’t looped in on the social interactions of students, he took the words much more to heart than Hope did. He shifted in his seat, shoulders tense, his smile became cruel in the blink of an eye as he fell into the role of protective big brother. He leaned forward, bearing his teeth, “ Was that a threat?” he growled, in such a way that some might think it was a laugh. 

The vampires around him bulked and pulled back, recognizing the threat in his voice. Hope was filled with perverse satisfaction. It was gone a quickly as it appeared and replaced by guilt. Her friends didn’t deserve Marcel’s wrath because of her dark impulses. 

With quick steps she went behind the couch where he sat and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder effectively drawing his attention, “ No threat, “ she purred smiling sweetly at him, “ just highschoolers being highschoolers.” 

That seemed to appease him, “ well then I’m very happy to never have gone to high school.” watchful and confused eyes followed their every action. 

“Sometimes I forget that your education was learning to read Shakespeare and Uncle Elijah teaching you piano.” 

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, kid trust me.” Marcel’s past was no joking matter, but that didn’t need to be discussed now. No one told her much of her family’s past but she was smart enough to figure it out on her own. 

“You guys know each other,” Mg exclaimed, more excited than he should be. Marcel shot his eyes at her and she met him with an eye roll. 

“Yes,” Hope answered, “ and this is a lovely reminder that Marcel is here for me and not you,” she shot, enjoying the surprised and slightly terrified looks on their faces. 

“Uh oh,” Marcel sang, “ Someone is in a mood today.”

He didn’t know how right he was. Perhaps she was a little testing but she had a right to be, “ Well if you’ve forgotten I did spend the better part of last year trapped in an endless void, so forgive me if my quota for familial love and affection wasn’t met,” she wasn’t sure whether these were the right words or not but once they started they didn’t stop, “ and so when I saw you here - my brother - surrounded by your little fan club, not even seeking me out, well I was a little peeved.” 

Everyone was quiet for a moment before Marcel answered her, “ We asked you to come home,” he groaned, “ we told you, that you needed to recuperate but you didn’t listen,” she could go home whenever she wanted, without her mother around there was no one insisting that she even go to school. Her father’s side of the family would be more than happy to compel her everything she could ever want and need in life, but it was her choice to stay at the school. 

“So how exactly do you know each other?” asked Rafael, who was sitting in the back of the crowd and had stayed silent until this moment. Hope didn’t even know he was there.

“I’ve known Hope since the day she was born,” he answered simply, but Hope decided that she should tell her side of the story.

“Marcel is my oldest friend and the closest thing I have to a brother.” She joined him on the couch where he was sitting facing the group of vampires and easily situated herself under his arm. He pulled her close and pressed a light kiss to her head. 

One of the cats was out of the bag now and she doubted her other secret would stay hidden for much longer. Her family members didn’t just come to the school on a whim, there was always a reason whether it was for a major crisis or a surprise birthday visit. And that reason didn’t ever stay hidden for long.

“Now that proper introductions have been made, can we go?” she wanted to leave and go to whatever event her family had planned before things got out of hand here. With her playing the role of school hero, if everyone found out that today was her birthday they would decide to make a bigger deal out of it than it needed to be. 

“Of course kid,” Marcel answered standing from the couch and grabbing her hand while motioning for her to lead the way. “We can do whatever you want. It isn’t every day that the Mikaelson miracle baby turns eighteen,” 

Hope fought back her groan and forced her face into neutrality, as to not give away that this was exactly the sentence she desperately wanted to avoid. With a tight-lipped smile, she pulled him toward the exit hoping to make an escape. “Wait, what was that?” Kaleb asked, sounding smug. “Did he say turning eighteen?” 

“What could that mean?” Mg wondered aloud, grinning sneaking at her. Hope’s stomach knotted as she glanced around. 

As if on cue confetti exploded above her and rained down like a sea of sparkles and paper. The twins busted through the doors, Landon close at their heels, with noisemakers and party hats. Noise erupted around her as everyone cheered. “You knew,” Hope groaned. 

“Of course we knew,” Kaleb laughed. 

“I actually did not know,” Marcel commented, before slipping out of the group and leaving Hope to deal with everything herself.

“Happy birthday Hope!” Josie squealed, throwing her arms around from the side with Lizzie following suit, till she was sandwiched between them. She lifted her arms awkwardly till she was hugging them back. Landon appeared behind her and dropped a party hat on her head as the twins released their death grip on her. 

“You guys didn’t need to do this,” Hope said looking at all the people around her, here to celebrate her birthday. 

“Well, apparently we wanted to,” Lizzie answered with her usual snark causing Hope to laugh. They shoved a small blue package with a large bow into her hand. 

Hope grinned, never had she had friends here who cared enough to celebrate her birthday much less ever give her a gift. Her cheeks flushed as she answered with a meek, “ Thank you.” 

“It’s nothing really,” Josie insisted before pushing her towards the door, “ Now go see your family.” Hope’s attention was immediately drawn back to Marcel. He seemed to have vanished in the crowd. But she found him leaning against the door frame, his phone lifted up and pointed straight at her. 

He was videoing. Hope laughed to herself at how silly this must all look, but she didn’t doubt that in twenty years or two hundred she would be grateful to watch that video back and remember this day. 

But for now, she was sure that video would get sent on the family group chat for everyone to enjoy and tease her about. 

[concussed-to-pieces]

Devotion

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Drew McIntyre/Named OFC

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Heard through the grapevine that my boy Drew might have done the Lord’s work recently. In honor of that momentous occasion, I dusted off what was originally meant to be part of @hardcorewwetrash ’s Summer Writing Challenge (because, you see, I am a terrible person and never managed to get my act together for that, I KNOW YOU’RE SHOCKED). So now for Valentine’s Day you get old gods, boardroom meetings, wilderness excursions and past life reminiscing. Basically, my brand. 

Enjoy!

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: For mild ’breeding kink’, graphic violence and death. Stay safe!]

[!WARNING!: Rife with historical inaccuracies. This also may be considered religiously offensive, for which I apologize and advise you to proceed with caution.]

.........

The devotion was what caught his attention in the beginning.

Truly, the fact that he had solidified on 'he' in the first place spoke volumes. Take one of the faithful. Always prodding at him, making him toss his head in dismissive annoyance. Take one of the faithful. 

The incense was lit in the chapel for yet another vigil, another plea. He tasted iron when he appeared, the atmosphere thick and stifling with the whine of the fair-weather faithful hoping for their fortunes to improve. Godhood was barely above a burden and the Higher in the pantheon well knew his grievances. 

He was Actaeon, ruler of forests and wilderness, his domain stretching from proud mountain peaks to secret moors that man had yet to tread. It fell on him often to mediate in this modern age, where the incense was few and far and boardroom meetings broke untold hours. Greedy men overreached again and again, hand over fist in a mad dash to their own demise.

He had settled on the name Drew McIntyre, and through it all Drew sat. Certainly, he had traded the gilded pauldrons and breastplate for a razor sharp suit, but his story was lauded as a cautionary tale and little about him looked tamed despite that. His piercing blue eyes still glowed when his irritation reached a boiling point, his mouth set in a grim line that was about as hospitable as a kodiak's roar.

I will give you nothing, said those cold eyes, and it will be far more than you deserve. 

Hunter, the man who had once been known as Hades, was at the head of most conference tables. Always clad in some kind of glamour that hid his true form, flanked by his loyal Persephone Stephanie and Cerberus split into three bodies. 

Back and forth they went, Actaeon halting progress and Hades or Zeus or Dionysus or whoever demanding more from him. More land, more resources, more more more. Drew took sadistic pleasure in entangling the god-moguls and their flunkies in red tape, dangling fertile rainforests in front of their noses only to snatch them away due to easily-overlooked technicalities.

After the Fyre festival fiasco at least Dionysus (calling himself Dolph these past few centuries, who knew what the next would hold) was humbled, twiddling his thumbs and staying relatively quiet during meetings. Drew got the feeling that it boded ill though, since it meant that the reveler was actually listening. Possibly. Cerberus, or rather, the three men that Cerberus had become, always confiscated all cell phones before their meetings commenced, so Dolph (and anyone else for that matter) had no distractions.

Whenever Zeus was involved, the shouting matches kicked off quickly. At Hunter's behest he grudgingly went by the name Vince, though even after all the years he still sometimes failed to respond to it. He was not nearly as powerful as he once was, of course, no one believed like they used to, and he clung to the old ways while Hunter struggled to reason with him. All the eldest god wanted to do since he and Hera had become estranged was lift weights and watch professional wrestling; it was a miracle that he even made appearances anymore. 

…

The ruler of Hell always put Drew up at the same damn hotel chain every time he managed to drag the belligerent patron into their meetings. Hunter didn't lack devotion. His contract with old man Vince involved such incredibly far-flung stipulations that for all intents and purposes, every exchange of goods in human hands netted him some percentage of adoration. Hades operated by the philosophy that 'absolute power corrupts absolutely, but slightly less than absolute couldn't hurt, could it?' 

The chain of hotels was one of those oxymoronic minimalist-yet-decadent types, decorated sparsely with furniture that boasted too many sharp edges. Drew always felt uncomfortable and he was certain that was the intention. Hades was all about subtle threats. 

You're on my turf, wild god. Better remember that.

Drew was on a first-name basis with most of the concierge staff in every location he frequented, accepting his room key with a roll of his eyes and some tired comment about how he was back in town for business. 

Running into an animal not in the lobby was...unprecedented. 

He stared down at the cat. The cat stared back up at him, licking her chops while she lounged in the middle of the hallway. Her muzzle was speckled with the remains of whatever she had eaten last and Drew immediately extended a hand for inspection. 

He wasn't as well-respected amongst the more domestic animals and the cat took her sweet time meandering towards his fingers. Once she reached them though, she was all purrs and apologies. Lost, she hummed, her whiskers tickling his arm. Help me?

"Where's your keeper, little miss?" Drew asked in a gentle voice that most humans hadn't had the privilege of hearing. 

The cat offered him a look that was a shrug, shaking her body to jangle the tag on her harness pointedly. 

Drew chuckled, picking her up and cradling her in the crook of one arm. "We will do our best then, won't we?"

…

They didn't wait in the lobby for very long. Fifteen minutes maybe, Drew sprawled indolently in a chair that wasn't quite large enough for him. The cat purred away in his lap, happily kneading and getting white needle-like hairs all over his expensive suit pants. Not that Drew cared, he'd sooner rip the whole damn suit off and saunter back to the wilds where he belonged. 

Patience, Actaeon, he reminded himself with a heavy sigh. A few more days in this brimstone nightmare.

One of Aphrodite's own appeared before him looking attractively distraught and his breath hitched, sending the large man into an embarrassing coughing fit. The woman gestured at the cat in his lap and Drew hurried to stand, floundering with the slumbering feline. "Ah, I had no idea that-" He began, somewhat confused that she didn't seem to recognize him.

"Thank you so much for finding her!" The woman said fervently, grasping his hand.

Drew received no supernatural warmth from her touch, just mortal worship so heartfelt it hit him square in the chest. She wasn't one of Aphrodite's? How could someone so beautiful simply...exist? Surely, there must be some mistake. What was this feeling of deja vu that threatened to overwhelm him?

"She was no trouble." Drew assured, "Came right up to me when I got out of the elevator. I'm Drew, by the way. Drew McIntyre." He raised an eyebrow pointedly. 

No realization of his true identity seemed to be forthcoming, the vision in front of him introducing herself in turn as Lyssa. The name alone sent another jolt through him, much to his chagrin. Her smile was like the sun and Drew wondered if she was possibly one of Apollo's creations. Apollo had no real touch for beauty, though. Hephaestus? 

"Can I get you a drink or something? I'm only in town for a conference, so I'm a little booked as far as breakfast would go." She sounded self-conscious, fidgeting with the cat's fur instead of making eye contact. 

"How about dinner?" Drew asked, startling himself with the ease of his own suggestion. "Maybe tomorrow night, depending on when you fly out of here?"

He needed to talk to Aphrodite. Immediately. 

…

Alicia took one look at him and tried to shut the door in his face. Drew barely caught the edge with his hand, giving her a smile that bordered on a sneer. "You've improved your craft, love." His tone was half impressed, half dangerous. "Setting one of your beauties on me? One who doesn't even know who I am?"

"You've got some real nerve coming here at this hour." Aphrodite muttered, the flawless woman clutching at her silk bathrobe. 

"It is noon, woman."

"Never mind that, what the hell are you talking about?"

Drew shoved his phone in her face, startled when she immediately looked (of all things) jealous. "I'm talking about this one. She's got a cat. And she's been crafted by you."

"She's not one of mine. Hera above, I wish I could take credit for that." The goddess replied crossly. "As far as I can tell she's the real deal." Drew was speechless and Alicia seemed to realize, a smirk turning her mouth up at the edges. "You're infatuated, aren't you?"

"No." Drew said firmly. 

"Mm, you're really going to lie to me about matters of the heart?" Aphrodite crooned. "It's been millennia since your little incident with Artemis. Still sensitive? I would have thought you'd forget."

"I was torn apart by my own dogs. Sensitive doesn't begin to cover it." Drew fidgeted with his phone, closing out the Instagram page. "I dinnae what to do." He admitted.

"Take her out, knock her up, tell her the truth or don't, and welcome another litter of demigods into the human world." Alicia said in a deadpan tone. "You really are so boring sometimes. It's no wonder you're the one who always gets your memory stripped, you're practically mortal levels of boring."

"I…" Drew hesitated.

Aphrodite softened, her sharp contours glowing ever so slightly in the dim hallway lighting. "You deserve adoration just like the rest of us, Actaeon. I know you've basically appointed yourself as nature's protector and as such have decided to distance yourself from humanity's praise, but humans need gods like you. Ones who don't play games with them." She said gently.

"If I do this, she...Aphrodite, mortals are so…"

"I know, they are short-lived. It's better to take your happiness where you can find it though. Don't live a lie, Drew." Alicia tapped her fingers to her lips and then pressed the kiss to his cheek. "For luck and nothing more. I know you wouldn't want my help anyways." Her laughter was a merry sound, bright even in its falsehood. 

…

It's better to take your happiness where you can find it.

The goddess of love's words haunted Drew while he prepared for this little...appointment  with Lyssa. 

Don't live a lie.

Was that what he was doing by shutting everything out? The whole debacle with Artemis, while indeed millennia past, still turned his stomach. His own fine hunting dogs tearing him apart would never leave his long memory, regardless of how many times Zeus humbled him and cast him to Earth with no recollection of who he was. Was he hiding? Was he really so afraid that something like that would happen again? He had traded his mutts in with his pauldrons, but he still occasionally felt echoes of their presence. As though he could turn around at any second and see them all eagerly awaiting his orders.

Drew huffed at himself, squaring his shoulders while he retied his tie and struggled with his top button. He wondered vaguely whether it would still be so difficult if he had picked a more feminine-presenting form as opposed to masculine, though he liked the form he had settled upon. Perhaps a bit too much. The broadness of his shoulders could be a little...difficult to fit into the dress shirts he was made to wear, so the battle of buttons was a familiar one. But that same broadness emphasized his physique and catered to his not-insubstantial pride. He had lasted this long, and what was the point of even having a form if you weren't content with how it appeared?

His reflection studied him from the mirror, blue eyes clouded with rumination on his past. His neck strained at the highest button with every swallow and so finally Drew sighed and left the offending button undone, carefully slipping his tie out of his collar after a moment of thought. Better to seem casual than tightly-laced. 

…

"So, to business, if this is something you want to pursue." Lyssa folded her hands. "I'm not looking for anything serious at the moment. If you're married or romantically involved, I'm not interested. I can't afford to be pulled into a pissing match, not with my career at stake.  That clear enough?"

"Crystal." Drew chuckled, appreciating her plain speech. "Games like that don't yield fruitful results. I'd rather be trusted." 

"Well my cat trusted you, so that's a step in the right direction." She smiled at him and Drew nearly choked on his drink. "You already have my number and I have yours from the cat debacle. What's your schedule look like?"

"I am free this evening, if you have the time. When does your flight leave tomorrow?"

"It's an eleven o'clock. I'm already packed, so I guess tonight will work fine." Lyssa sounded for all the world like she was planning a meeting. 

"Come with me?" Drew requested, rising from the table and offering his arm. She took it without hesitation or shyness, strolling to the elevator with him. "I understand the anonymity of this setup may be what you find most appealing. Rest assured, you will hear no questions from me unless you wish them asked." Drew deliberately kept his tone light. 

"I appreciate that." 

His own rising apprehension aside, Drew did his best to relax. It would do him no good to display the tension he felt. It was better to keep this as businesslike as possible, for his own comfort as well as hers. If they continued on in this manner, maybe he would learn why he felt like she was so damned familiar.

...

It was always attached somehow. He had never really noticed it before Lyssa, but now it gnawed at him. He wondered whether this hunger was why Aphrodite had been so glib about him spawning a litter. Did she know? Did she put the fire there to begin with? 

He knew he was being irrational. Aphrodite couldn't come close to his control, time beyond time having passed since the carefree days of his youth. Actaeon had failed, but Drew McIntyre would not. This arrangement didn't have to sour with reproductive ruminations. It didn't have to, but…

There was no harm in fantasizing about it. The desire to take Lyssa's unwitting worship and make it something...real.

She had, of course, been very up front with him. She was on medication, he would use protection, it was all standard procedure as they were both responsible adults. There was a relatively low risk involved and honestly Drew wasn't particularly keen on raising a brood in the first place, just being involved in the creative process. The notion excited him much more than it should have: the idea of coupling with her, breeding even, until she was overflowing. Being a god, it was far from an impossible task. Drew wasn't ashamed to admit he could behave more like an animal than a man, this fallible flesh doing him in time and again. At least she could keep up with him when it came to sexual appetite.

She would text him occasionally even if they hadn't planned on meeting up. Hell, even if they weren't in the same state. Just little snippets or questions about his day, maybe a picture of her cat.  Drew found himself slipping into the habit of checking his phone regularly, coming to learn that she frequently went hiking when she wasn't involved in business. She claimed to love the woods more than anyone and the God of the Forests had to suppress a roaring laugh at her declaration.

Not even Zeus himself could have rid Drew of his grin when Lyssa casually mentioned that she wouldn't mind some company on her next camping trip. He had been having a terrible day, but that message lifted his spirits instantaneously. He pondered at that for a split second, somewhat confused. Since when had he become so attached?

"Is that a smile?" Dionysus queried from across the boardroom, his eyes wide over the Greek salad he had ordered for the lunch break. "It is! What happened to brighten you up, Doomsday?" Dolph practically bounced around the table to plant himself in the currently-unoccupied seat beside Drew, batting his eyelashes at the large man. "Aw c'mon, you were so chipper a second ago!" The blond whined.

"I have a migrating headache." Drew said dryly. "It comes and goes. Seems t' increase whenever you're around." 

The reveler's response was an ear-to-ear grin and he leaned forward to rest his chin in his hand. "Do tell." He purred. Roman (the largest portion of Cerberus) looked up curiously, as if he sensed the shift in the atmosphere of the room.

"No." Drew snapped, already inches from wringing Dionysus' neck. "Whatever I'm pleased about has nothing to do with ye an' yours. Dinnae try my patience." 

"Psh, ever since Artemis you've been so-" Dolph didn't even get to finish his sentence before Drew was towering over him. 

"Actaeon." Hades' glare was smouldering at the edges. "Not in the conference room. You know the rules."

"Easy now, boys." Vince chimed in, clapping his son in law on the shoulder. "We don't want anything getting out of hand, do we?" Outside, the clear sky rumbled threateningly. 

Hunter sighed in annoyance. "Old man, you know you can't do that shit anymore. It upsets their meteorologists."

"I am Zeus! Why the hell should I give a crap about their silly weather men?"

"Enough. And you, Actaeon-"

"Dionysus never takes me up on my offers." Drew's teeth were bared in an infuriated grin. To his right, Alicia clicked her tongue as if to voice her disapproval.

"Whoa, whoa! I'm more of a lover anyhow, you know that!" Dolph looked wildly uncomfortable, like he had just realized that maybe pissing off a person who stood head and shoulders above him was a bad idea. 

Actaeon exhaled hard, forcing himself to take a step back from the situation. "Later." He said finally, entertained by how Dolph's face paled beneath his fake tan. 

…

"I needed this more than words can express." Drew breathed, his hands carding through her hair in an oddly affectionate way. Well, oddly affectionate when he considered the position they were in. Lyssa's nose pressed to his pelvis, throat flexing around his cock, every swallow making Drew grunt or snarl. "You are too good at this." 

He knew he had to keep his voice down. They might have parked the rental a good distance away from other vehicles, but it would do them no good if a passerby noticed her face in his lap. Drew half-groaned at the idea of being interrupted, feeling her tongue bathing the base of his cock as best as she could. 

"I'm close Lys, can I…" He trailed off, gritting his teeth when she pulled off his cock and started stroking his shaft with her hand. She rested the engorged head of his dick on her tongue, maintaining eye contact as she did. Drew had to remove his hands from her hair, one gripping his thigh and the other clenched into a fist so tight his knuckles ached. "I'm coming, love, I-" He choked his words off as best as he could, trying to stay silent. 

Drew was not a particularly quiet individual, especially during lascivious activities. He liked to think it was part of his charm, the blunt and brazen honesty of his own failable flesh. Lyssa certainly seemed to appreciate it, if the way she squeezed his thigh while she swallowed down his release was any indication. 

He went boneless in the driver's seat, panting a little. She rested her cheek on his thigh, smiling up at him in a manner that was wholly self-satisfied. Drew chuckled, running his fingers through her hair one more time. "How is it possible to enjoy you as much as I do?"

"You're just easy to please." Lyssa teased, giving him a soft bite on the inside of his thigh before beginning to straighten herself out. 

Drew followed suit and then stepped out of the small car, stretching his arms overhead with a drawn out hum. A deep inhale filled his lungs with the fresh forest air and he sighed happily. Nothing better than that smell. 

Her forehead bumped between his shoulder blades and she stayed there for a good minute, her arms around his waist. Drew felt something stir in his body, satisfaction, contentment and he cleared his throat, resting his hands over her own on his stomach. "Thank ye for invitin' me. I promise it'll be worth it." He murmured. 

"Mm, I'll hold you to that." 

After collecting their backpacks from the trunk, the two of them set out down one of the many trails. Not that Drew particularly needed a trail, but he knew that bushwhacking on their first outing into his domain might set her on edge. 

He let her lead the way and they made quiet conversation as they hiked, Drew keeping an ear out all the while for any nearby beasts. She seemed entranced at the way the birds drew close to them, a hummingbird boldly zipping back and forth in front of her nose at one point. 

Drew laughed at the obvious plea for attention, extending a finger to the tiny creature. "Feisty today, aren't we?" He asked softly once it had landed. "You eat well enough with all the feeders around." 

The bird voiced its grievances with hummingbird feeders, much to Acaeteon's amusement. In the meantime his hiking companion shrugged out of her backpack and shuffled closer, her eyes fixated on the complaining bundle of feathers. "How did you do that?" She whispered.

Drew tilted his head. "They come to me." He replied nonchalantly. "This one wants me to grow him more red flowers. I am no miracle worker, little one."

"Oh sure, yeah. He's talking to you. I'll bet." Lyssa gave him a smirk. 

"How else do you think I got your cat back to you so simply?" Drew asked, raising an eyebrow. "She is a headstrong beast."

"Well so am I, but here we are."

"True enough." Drew shooed the bird off and sidled up to embrace her from behind. A teasing finger toyed with the fabric of her t-shirt across her chest, making her laugh quietly and tap his hand away. "Not nearly stubborn enough to resist me." Drew continued, his voice low and gravelly while he pressed close and palmed her breasts. 

Lyssa gasped, her eyes darting back and forth as if worried that someone might see them in this predicament. "Drew-" Her indignant hiss of his name tapered off into something a little less stern than she probably would have liked. Her nipples woke under his circling assault, pressing hard against Drew's questing thumbs.

"What's wrong, Lys? You've gone quiet." Drew whispered raggedly, "Did you see something? A beasty, come to devour you whole?" His left hand slunk past the waistband of her hiking shorts, questing blindly downward for what he sought.

"You're not being fair, you got off in the car." Lyssa protested, her voice cracking slightly. "Don't tease me, Drew-"

"I'm no tease Lys, I intend t' deliver on any threats I make." Acaeteon mouthed at her ear and reveled in the way that she went pliant against his body. Her worship was sweeter than all the praise of humanity, her trust in him explicit and heady. "With just my fingers, lovin'? The first of many, we'll say." Drew promised.

"I'd love to see you try."

Drew's strong fingers tweaked one of her nipples at the same time that his other hand found sanctuary in her underwear. "Naughty girl." Lyssa sighed and writhed back into him, blissfully ignoring that they were still very much out in the open. "I love how quickly you change your tune when you want somethin'." Drew chuckled, fingers stroking and then spreading her slick folds open. 

When Acaeteon took on a task he deemed important, he poured himself into it wholeheartedly. Not many things outside of his interactions with Lyssa really warranted that level of commitment. 

"Lys." He breathed while she choked on her breath and shuddered through an orgasm. "You are not making this easy on me."

"I asked you to come with me for a reason, Drew." She panted when she could talk again, whimpering quietly after he withdrew his fingers and licked them clean.

Drew kissed her fiercely, tongue licking into her mouth to give her a taste of herself. "And what reason might that be?" He asked once they had parted again.

Lyssa stared up at him in a daze for a good few seconds before snapping out of it. "What? Oh! Oh God. Um, later. I'll tell you later. Look, we still have a long way to go!" She floundered, struggling to get back into her pack. Drew rolled his eyes but remained silent, choosing instead to help her put herself to rights and buckle her straps.

...

The campsite she had picked was conspicuously secluded, which Drew made a mental note of. Lyssa seemed excessively nervous for someone that Drew had already been intimate with, the young woman getting their tent poles mixed up several times despite her familiarity with said tent. 

"You seem tense, Lys." Drew teased once she had finally gotten everything squared away. "I hope I didn't wind you up too much."

"Drew, I…" Lyssa trailed off, sighing. "I want to ask you for something. And I'm sorry if you think it's weird or...like, if I make you uncomfortable. I promise I would never want to make you uncomfortable."

Drew raised an eyebrow. This sounded more serious than he had anticipated. "Speak your mind, love. Whatever it is, I'm sure I can handle it."

Lyssa looked so pensive that Drew was legitimately concerned, the smaller woman taking her time to settle into a chair beside the fire pit. They hadn't lit the fire yet as the summer weather was warm even in the evenings, but Drew had made certain to find a small amount of dry firewood for safety's sake. "This is super dumb and if you want we can just forget it." She announced firmly. 

Drew couldn't help but laugh, doing his best to mask the anxiety gnawing at his gut. "I think I'll be the judge of that, love. What's this turrible question of yours?"

"I kind of...I mean I've...look." She exhaled and glared up at him with a strange ferocity. Drew's pulse quickened at the intensity of her eyes. He felt like he was being appraised, but also, strangely, like he had done this all before. "I've got this...thing that I like."

"Ye. Bit difficult t' miss, love." Drew grinned and she buried her face in her hands, groaning loudly until he apologized and promised not to make any more jokes about his thing she liked. 

"This is hard to talk about so please, just let me talk." Lyssa said sternly. "This isn't something I've told anyone else and I've never acted on my...urges...before." 

Urges. Actaeon's mind raced. Mortals had very few urges that they catered to, what on earth could she be talking about?

"I've always had this...kind of...thing for. Um. Someone having multiple orgasms. I-In me." Lyssa had actually closed her eyes to say it, her knuckles white with the grip she had on her trekking pole. "Like sloppy, barebacking I guess? Breeding? I dunno. I've seen some stuff and I feel like I'd want to try it out, but I've never met anyone that I trusted like that u-until you of course and I really didn't want to get gangbanged so like it's really cool that you can do multiples, your stamina is insane-" 

She carried on rambling as what she said rang in his ears. Breeding. Drew was upright before he realized, stalking across their campsite with a certain, single-minded intent. "Lys." He said hoarsely, kneeling in between her legs. She kept her eyes closed, like she could ignore him somehow. Her face was all red and Drew wanted to laugh, to ease her worries and make light of this, but he couldn't find the ability. "I will do whatever you need me to, lovin'." He murmured. "If it's breedin' you want, it's breedin' you'll get."

Lyssa peeked at him. "What, seriously? J-Just like that? You don't think I'm fucked up for wanting something so weird?" Her faith in him was like warm sunlight after winter. 

"I wish ye'd told me sooner, truthfully." Drew admitted, "could have saved a bit of trouble for the both of us." He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "How much preparin' do you want?"

"Pre...Preparing?" 

"Ye. Do y' want to eat? It'll be a long night. "

"I-I mean we already ate lunch--" 

"That we did." She was adorably flustered about this whole thing. "What will you say when you want me to stop, love?"

"I'll say...um, I'll say." Lyssa glanced around. "Tent?" She suggested.

"It has to be somethin' you'll remember. If you'll remember that an' use it, absolutely." Lyssa nodded jerkily and Drew exhaled hard, rising to stand once more. "Alright." He muttered, stripping off his shirt. "Up."

"Up?" Lyssa squeaked.

"Ye." Drew lifted her from the chair, her legs instinctively wrapping around his hips. The large man buried his face in her neck, littering the sensitive skin with kisses and chuckling as Lyssa squirmed in his arms. Her little gasps spurred him on and he fought with the drawstring of her shorts, settling for lacing his fingers at the small of her back to support her while she struggled to undo them herself. 

"Drew, you gotta' put me down-" Lyssa began. 

"This is takin' too long." Drew interrupted, itching to rip the shorts clean off. He sulkily dropped into a crouch, letting her stand so she could actually slide the shorts off and save them from the terrible fate he had planned. "Underwear too, come on."

"So impatient! Guess I should be happy I'm not the only weirdo around." Lyssa teased breathlessly, obliging him with the underwear.

"Bra. Unless you want it ripped."

"Don't you dare."

"I will. Get it gone, love."

Lyssa grumbled, "fine, but I'm leaving my shirt on. Last thing I need is someone coming across us totally naked."

Drew was relatively certain that he was sliding into an Old God headspace, his mind running wild with the idea of reveling naked in public like Dionysus. In the meantime, Lyssa put her hands on a nearby tree trunk and just looked back at him as if to ask what he was waiting for. Drew growled a little louder than he meant to, the telltale sheen of slick on her inner thighs more than enough to stir his blood. 

"I will fill you until I'm empty." The wild god assured softly, fingers dragging through her hair. "Until I am entirely spent. Over and over until your hunger is satisfied."

"You sure do make a lot of nice promises." She replied faintly, arching her back. 

"I'm going to breed you, love." He warned. 

"I certainly hope so?"

"Excellen'." Drew unzipped his jeans and freed his cock, loving the way she shivered. "To business. You remember what ye say if y' need me to stop?"

"Y-Yeah, yeah, tent." Lyssa nodded.

"Very good." Drew slid his cock along her entrance, the heat of her taking his breath away. She was already soaked, ready for him, and he permitted himself a momentary loss of self control. Drew kicked her legs a little further apart, roughly shoved his hands up underneath her shirt to cup her breasts, and then sheathed himself in one steady motion.

Lyssa panted out his name as he started to move, the wild god feeling her worship wash over him. It had never been like this before. There was always the catch, the desire to be granted something in exchange for their meager adoration. But here, now, in the sanctuary of the wilderness, Lyssa gave freely of herself to him out of sheer faith that he would be able to fulfill her.

It was intoxicating, heady and rich like his first breath of mountain air atop Sgùrr Alasdair. Drew inhaled sharply and proceeded with his task. He had promised to breed her, and so he would. 

"Lys," he murmured as he sank onto his haunches and took her with him, settling her into his lap more firmly. "I will need you as close to me as possible, love. Don't want to waste a drop."

Lyssa barely managed another nod as his hand wrapped around her throat to hold her steady, her own hands grasping hungrily at his still-clothed thighs. Drew rocked his hips up against her, jolting her entire body with every thrust. His other hand yanked her shirt up over her breasts, baring her to the world. He was enjoying this, he realized dimly, this salacious act stoking something long dead in him back to life. 

His first orgasm struck at the same moment as hers, Actaeon grinning fiercely at the way she arched and crooned to him. But he ached for more. She had asked to be bred and Drew would oblige.

"I want you to grind against me until I paint your insides again." Drew snarled, his shoulders taut. "We will sire demigods, lovely and terrible as the sun."

"You say such nice things it's not even fair-" Lyssa protested, making him laugh breathlessly. His release trickled down his shaft, further slicking her needy body. Lyssa's moaning rang in his ears and Drew bit down softly on her shoulder, laving the spot with his tongue afterwards. 

He would give her exactly what she had asked for. Until he was spent. Until he gave out. In the face of such freely-given worship, what else could he offer?

...

The dream bled in slowly, firelight the first thing she noticed...

"Lady Lyssa?" The voice of Sir Drew roused Lyssa from her musings and she looked up from the fire. The large knight was studying her, his curiosity bordering on impertinence. "Pardon me, Lady Lyssa, but yer hem is smoking."

Lyssa squeaked and frantically floundered back a pace from the small fire. Digging her fingers into the dirt beside her, she smudged out the lazily-smoldering lace on her skirt's hemline. "Thank you, Sir Drew." She sighed sadly, holding the now-ruined lace up to the light of the fire. "Just one more thing I've lost, I suppose."

Drew bowed. "I am n' longer a knight in your father's employ, m'lady. I have nae such title." His rich brogue washed over her, giving her the peculiar feeling of being warmed from the inside out. 

"You're leagues more of a knight than that scum my father was willing to sell me off to." Lyssa huffed in aggravation, hugging herself for warmth. "You're still Sir Drew to me."

"Your kindness is, as always, a beacon of light in dark times." 

"I'm not being kind, I'm being honest." She muttered. 

Drew fidgeted with the penannular brooch on his shoulder, sliding the ring to loose the needle and unwrap the thick folds of his tartan. In a few moments, the heavy woolen garment was draped over Lyssa like a shawl. "There's no need for you to be close 'noigh to the fire that y' hem is burnin'." He said gruffly, now clad more plainly in his armor alone. "I can't have you catchin' your death."

Lyssa buried her nose in the tartan, the durable fabric worn soft in patches from years of use. "Thank you, Sir Drew."

"I am sworn to keep y' safe to the best of my ability, Lady Lyssa." He puttered around the fire, snapping a few branches over his knee to feed the small blaze. "The chill from the moors can get into a man's bones. God-fearing country it might be, but I wager that there may be older gods roamin' these lands at night." Drew mused quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself.

Lyssa pursed her lips and clutched the tartan a little tighter. 

Drew seemed to notice her discomfort, turning to offer her a quick grin. "Afeared of the dark, m'lady?" 

"Not of the dark, but what's in it. And you saying unsettling things like that is hardly helping." 

"You've naught to worry about while I'm here, Lady Lyssa. I'm much more fearsome than whatever ye could think up." The knight assured her, his eyes unnaturally blue even in the golden light of the fire. 

Far off, a wild creature howled. Lyssa tried not to jump, she really did, but there was no hiding her flinch.

"It's just a wolf, Lady Lyssa. They'll stay away from the fire." Drew soothed, one large gauntlet hovering above her shoulder. She found herself wishing that just once, the knight would drop his polished veneer and hold her.

"I'm sorry, Sir Drew. It has been...these are trying times. I don't mean to be so fragile." Lyssa mumbled, shame catching her words in her throat.

"It is nae easy feat t' leave hearth and home behind. There is no need t' apologize." Drew assured her. "I only hope we can get y' safely t' the coast."

"I have no doubt of that with you at my side, Sir Drew." 

"I must confess, I am a bit concerned about what y' father and betrothed will do to me once yer safely away, m'lady." Drew placed his hand over his heart. "But my own fears are naught in the face of yer peril, and so they will be laid to rest in as timely a manner as I can manage when yer safe." 

"Drew, do not say such terrible things!" Lyssa protested. "As if you would not be accompanying me!"

"Yer father took me in when I was but a lost stripling wanderin' the moors, Lady Lyssa. He gave me a purpose, a goal. I cannae easily forget that." Drew murmured. "Not even for you."

Dismay gripped Lyssa's throat like an iron claw. "Surely after all these years of faithful service, you've earned a moment of selfishness?" She felt at that moment as if she would have made a deal with the Devil himself to keep her devoted knight by her side.

"Aye, true enough that might be." The blue-eyed man allowed, a rueful smile touching his mouth. "But one often leads to another, as the sayin' goes. I'm loathe t' leave ye all the same."

"Is what I want not part of your plans either, Drew?"

"Lady-"

"It's bad enough to be treated as if I am being unreasonable for not wishing to be auctioned off with the summer home as an attractive virginal decor piece, but to have you spouting such ridiculous platitudes is-!" Lyssa sputtered furiously, her words failing her in her rage. Drew merely sat there in silence while she stomped her feet. "It's outrageous to assume that I could get far on my own. I've barely ventured off the estate since my father acquired his lairdship."

"Are y' sayin' ye would go willingly to that mon, trot yerself off t' market?" Drew challenged, "If I wasnae here, ye'd lay down for some elderly laird to further yer sire's plans?"

"Never." Lyssa barely suppressed a horrified shudder at the notion of sharing her wedding bed with the repulsive man her father had chosen for her. Drew's blunt, honest way of speaking had her all flushed in the face. "I don't know what I would have done. Perhaps I would have died." 

An ugly oath left Drew's lips at her flippant words, the large man muttering an apology for his rough language. "'Fraid I'm showin' my hand a bit, Lady Lyssa. Y' shouldnae say such turrible things." 

"Would you miss me, Sir Drew?" She teased, the laughter leaving her tone when she saw the way he was looking at her. 

"Like the moon misses the moors, Lady Lyssa." Drew had never been one to use flowery terms, so this unexpected foray into almost poetic territory left her a bit breathless. 

Lyssa clutched the tartan, his tartan, even closer. "It is rude to jest so, Sir Drew."

"I am not a jesting mon, Lady Lyssa." Drew's eyes had softened. Normally they were sharp and calculating; the knight took his duties very seriously and it was rare to see him at ease. Not that he was particularly lax at this moment. His sword was still belted to his hip, though he had left his claymore on the ground beside the fire.

"I know. I am grateful for that, Sir Drew." 

He leaned in closer, improperly close, and yet she felt no need to scold him. He often wore his long brown hair braided while he rode to keep it from impeding his vision, but a few enchanting strands had managed to work themselves free during their hurried flight from her father's estate. They gave him an air of dangerous sensuality, the unfamiliar sight of him even slightly unkempt enough to send Lyssa's imagination running wild. 

"I would miss you more than I can articulate." Drew sounded sincere, his voice dipping slightly. "The idea of...the idea of you sufferin' under someone y' do not love and didnae even choose, it is." He paused, obviously searching for the right word. "Intolerable." His burr rolled the word thick, sending an indulgent shiver down Lyssa's spine. "I am naught but a lowly mon who's broken his vows of service t' yer household, Lady Lyssa. But I swear on my life that you shall be free as a bird from this," He gestured vaguely, "nightmare y' been trapped in."

Lyssa rested against his shoulder, the firm press of his armor cool on her burning cheek. "Sir Drew, you are no longer in service to my father. You agree, yes?"

"Aye. Much as it pains me, I've betrayed my master." Drew sighed. 

"And I am fleeing from my title, my lands, everything I once held dear, yes?" Lyssa's grip on the plaid whitened her knuckles. Drew's reply was a slow nod, the knight's brow furrowed in confusion. "I would very much like to do something then. As one soul to another, without the concerns of titles or birthrights getting in the way." Quickly, Lyssa leaned upwards and pressed her lips to his slack mouth. 

Drew started, grabbing her arm to prevent her from retreating after her unwisely bold choice. Lyssa was certain her cheeks were even rosier than before, squirming under the intensity of the look he was giving her. "Y' can flee from yer title an' lands, but I willnae let ye flee from me." Drew murmured finally, cupping her face. "Why would ye torment me so, Lady Lyssa?"

"Just Lyssa, my dear Drew." Lyssa took a deep breath, "I can think of no other way to convince you to stay with me. I have no dowry now, no land, no-" Drew kissed her roughly, the fondness in his expression when he pulled back catching Lyssa even more off guard than the kiss. "Drew, I…" She swallowed hard, nerves twisting her words into a tight little ball. 

"The kiss wasnae t' yer likin'?"

"No! No no, the kiss was perfect. I'm all out of sorts." Lyssa confessed, "I had not realized that you, er, reciprocated my feelings. That should make what I'm about to ask of you a little simpler, but…oh dear, I had not thought out how I would do this."

"I will do my best t' aid ye however y' need, my lovely Lyssa." Drew replied firmly.

"I'm certain you will, and from what I've heard this is not a particularly unpleasant task. F-For someone like you, anyway!" Lyssa felt like she was drowning. "Drew, I would implore you to grant me this one request. I will never ask for another thing as long as I live."

"Speak your mind, Lyssa. Whatever this request is, I'm certain I can fulfill it." 

"I need you to deflower me." Lyssa blurted out in a rush, then buried her burning face in the tartan spread across her lap. "If that...issue is removed, I'll be of no real use to my father and he may let us continue in peace." She soldiered on, her words muffled by the fabric. 

Drew made a sound in his throat that was distinctly foreign. "I...dinnae think I heard ye right. Did you say-"

"Oh, don't make me say it again!" Lyssa begged, thoroughly humiliated. "This is all so embarrassing, Drew, please-" 

The tartan was tugged from her unwilling grasp, Drew's heavy gauntlets somehow deft enough to fold the sturdy fabric. "Many's the night I thought of such things, Lys. 'Tis nae shame in it." He assured her, a teasing smile on his mouth. 

"Maybe not for you." Lyssa retorted. One of the aforementioned heavy gauntlets tucked beneath her chin, tugging her eyes up to meet his own. 

"I am deadly serious, Lyssa."

"Yes, well, so am I." The young woman huffed, feeling thoroughly foolish and exposed without the warm drape of his plaid to shield her. 

"I hate that y' come to me with this request out of necessity. I had hoped…" Drew trailed off, shaking his head. "I suppose it doesnae matter now. I will serve ye in this manner as well, my love."

"Love? Drew, this i-is a matter of...you don't have to--I assure you I don't need to be coddled-"

"Hush, Lys. I want to." He murmured. 

His enthusiasm was evident in the way that he swept her up into his arms and carried her to their humble shelter, in the way that he didn't seem able to stop kissing her. The large man appeared to get himself out of his armor by swearing alone, his mumbled apologies doing wonders for Lyssa's nerves as he fought with the various buckles and latches. 

She couldn't help but get caught up in it all, hungry for the new sensations he graced her with after he abandoned removing his greaves in favor of other activities. Drew was, of course, miles more experienced than her, his rough touch equal parts soothing and maddening.

Lyssa had been warned about the pain by well-meaning housemaids, unable to keep from cringing when Drew finally settled in between her legs. "I...Drew, please just…" She struggled to get the words out, making him pause.

"Shall I stop, Lys?"

"No, no. I have to do it. I just know it will hurt." 

"You could lie to yer father, if ye are truly afeared of this. I willnae do anythin' without y' wishes." Drew assured her, smoothing her hair away from her face. "I won't tell a soul about what has already happened."

"We must do it." She insisted, frowning fiercely. Her hands clenched into fists on the sheepskin beneath her. "I am prepared, Sir Drew."

"I would give my damned life to have our first time together be out of newlywed affection, Lys. It wounds me than I cannae give y' any better than this." Drew sounded distraught about the whole thing, and that was enough to get Lyssa's undivided attention. 

"You...want to marry me?" She asked softly.

"Christ woman, I don't know how much more plain I can be." Drew shook his head, smiling sadly. "I would marry ye in a heartbeat. Tis' bittersweet, this act, stealin' away what I would have wanted y' to give to me willingly."

Lyssa sought a kiss which Drew gladly delivered, the young woman whimpering into his mouth. "I will be brave for you, Sir Drew." She gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I leave myself in your care."

Drew returned her embrace, sliding one hand beneath her body to cradle her against his chest. Lyssa felt him prodding at her entrance and she turned her head away, too scared to watch. He was patient though, gently coaxing her to ease into the motion of it so that when he did finally breach her, it was as if he was coming home. "Gods, Lyssa." He choked, shifting his hips to settle himself. 

Lyssa felt hot all over her body, the pain melting into pleasure that seared her core and left her panting for breath. She was wet enough that her slick ran down her thighs, coating Drew's groin with her arousal. The knight groaned. "Is it alright?" Lyssa asked shyly, her fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. In reply, Drew exhaled an oath and she felt him tense.

"Perfection, Lys. You are Gods-given perfection." He said hoarsely.

The distant sound of an approaching horse was what roused the two from their post-coital drowse. Lyssa was unsure if she had truly been sleeping, or simply lazing beside the large man. The contentment leaked away, leaving her cold and wishing wistfully for more time. 

She rolled onto her stomach, stretching. Drew kissed her forehead and then draped his tartan around himself, securing it with his brooch at the shoulder. He had never actually removed his greaves; they rattled slightly when he stood. "Stay here, my love." His smile was tight.

The instant he left the tent Lyssa was hurrying to redress herself. A terrible feeling came over her, almost as if she was having a premonition. Fear and despair waged war in her heart while the galloping hoofbeats grew ever closer. 

"Ho there, Drew of McIntyre!" 

Lyssa squeezed her eyes shut in dismay. That voice belonged to the son of the laird she had been promised to. The flaxen-haired man was not an overly intelligent individual, as made abundantly evident by his lonely arrival. 

"Greetings to ye, Dolph." Lyssa was immensely jealous of how calm Drew sounded; why had she not insisted that he gird himself properly in all of his armor? "What brings ye to my humble hamlet?"

"You can drop the act, you shameless Scot." Dolph announced pompously. "The very notion that you thought you could get away with this-"

"I'm afraid I've no idea what yer on about, Dolph." 

"My father's betrothed! The audacity of you, stealing the poor girl away in the night like you're a damned highwayman." Lyssa lifted up the rear of the tent and slunk out, risking a peek around the corner. Dolph had dismounted to thump a finger into the center of Drew's broad chest, the blond looking disheveled and annoyed. "You must return her at once, or I'll-"

"Aye? You'll what." Drew growled. 

Dolph squinted suspiciously up at the taller man. "Drew, I see no reason for you to be so heinously uncooperative. Unless…" The blond trailed off. "Oh. Oh ho, McIntyre! It's to be like that, is it?!" He yelled, his hand flying to the guard of his rapier. "Your crimes will be punished tenfold, baseborn, if you do not produce Lady Lyssa!"

"Ye would attack an unarmed mon, Dolph? I knew ye were a coward, but this is a bit too rich for me." 

"Pick up your blade then, you cur!"

Lyssa inched backwards to the small copse of birch trees where their horses had been secured, her hands shaking nearly too hard to untie her mount. The gentle mare nudged her sleepily, nosing at her dress' pockets for a treat. Lyssa pressed her forehead to the animal's side, inhaling deeply in an attempt to calm her frantic heartbeat. It will be fine.

The ringing of steel on steel and a scream of outrage from Dolph shattered her attempt, the young woman wheeling to face the campsite. 

Drew and Dolph were trading blows beside the fire, their swords gleaming in the hellish light. "Drew!" Lyssa cried before she could think better of it, covering her mouth a second too late. 

The larger man glanced towards her, distracted, and Dolph seized the opening. The blade of his sword pierced the unarmored man's chest and stabbed deep. The two men froze, Drew staring at Lyssa and Dolph staring at his sword as though he couldn't believe what he had just done. 

"I…" Dolph began warily, jerking his rapier free and taking a step back. The blade was brilliantly red. Drew collapsed to his knees, dropping his own sword to press the folds of his now-ruined plaid against the mortal wound. Dolph's face hardened and he readied his blade once more.

Lyssa bolted forward at the blond man, not entirely certain what she was about to do. She had no weapons of her own. All she had was her body. "No!" She screamed, flinging herself between Dolph's sword and Drew's hunched form.

The pain was real, tangible, no dream. It stole the very breath from her chest. Yet she clung to Drew even as Dolph's blade slid home between her ribs.

"Lady Lyssa…" Drew whispered, a shaking hand coming up to tenderly cup her face and wipe away her tears. "Dinnae fret, my love. We will meet again." His other hand grasped in the disturbed dirt around the dying campfire, landing on the pommel of his faithful claymore. "I swear it."

He gripped her tightly and with a roar of exertion, he swung the large blade one-handed. All Lyssa could recall was his eyes, fearsome and brilliant in the dark of death that enveloped her. 

God-fearing country it might be, but I wager that there may be older gods roaming these lands at night...

…

Lyssa jerked awake, uncertain of her surroundings. For one terrifying moment her dream seemed like reality, the tent overhead the tent that she and her knight had-

"Drew?" She called, fumbling out of her sleeping bag. "Drew?" He wasn't in the tent beside her. Lyssa rushed to pull on her socks and boots, half-frantic now. 

She poked her head out of the tent, squinting in the pastel blue light of dawn. The forest was lively around the tent, birds having their morning chatter. Drew's boots were missing from the shelter, as well as his towel and grooming kit. Perhaps…

Lyssa struggled upright, flushing a little at how difficult it was to just move. Delicious memories warmed her from the inside out, stirring her blood. She felt almost guilty, giddy and still panicky at Drew's absence. 

It turned out she hadn't needed to worry. Drew was perched on a smooth rock beside the river, tiny travel mirror in one hand while he carefully shaved. A small turtle had taken up residence on the rock as well, basking comfortably in the first warm rays of sunlight. 

"...and I said that of course, of course I'm goin' to have an issue with him litterin', it draws the bears in. And do ye know what that fuck said t' me?" Drew paused, like he was waiting for a response. "Nae, he said 'why should I care, I'm here for a day hike and bears only come out at night'. Truly, the mon wanted to die." The large man sighed, another sure stroke of the razor ridding his neck of stubble. "So then-" 

"You two enjoying your conversation?" Lyssa teased, deja vu striking her hard when Drew turned to give her a quick smile. It was as if she had done this all before, but how could that even be possible?

"Ah, I see I'll have to work harder next time. Ye can still walk!" Drew jibed, making her blush hard.

"I had the weirdest dream, then I woke up and you weren't there."

"Oh? Do tell, love. I'm not quite done here anyway."

Lyssa settled onto the riverbank alongside the rock, pulling off her boots and dipping her feet into the chilly water. She didn't speak for several minutes, just listening to the river and the quiet scrape of Drew's razor on his throat. "I dreamed that we were in Scotland."

The razor noise stopped abruptly. 

"Old Scotland, though, not like modern day. You were a knight and I was some sort of nobility. I guess...I think I'd been promised to an older guy? Like an older guy wanted to marry me and you were helping me run away because I didn't want to marry him." Lyssa hugged herself, pointedly staring down at the water in an attempt to avoid the look she was sure Drew was giving her. "It was so real, less like a dream and more like a memory. I could feel it, how scared and uncertain I was, as though I had really gone through that experience."

"You dreamed of Scotland?" Drew's chuckle sounded strange, forced. "Dinnae realize I had that effect on folk."

"I don't think I've ever even seen a picture of Scotland, but somehow I know that's where it was. I'd bet on it, I'm that sure." Lyssa insisted, still staring at the water.

The large man cleared his throat after a minute and moved to splash some water onto his face. Lyssa noticed that he had nicked himself while shaving, the blood blotting his neck. Drew didn't seem particularly concerned about it though, scrubbing roughly at his face to rid himself of any leftover residue. "In your dream, was I still Drew?" The question was posed casually, like he was asking whether she had seen his keys or phone.

Lyssa smiled, feeling oddly wistful. "You were, one hundred percent."

Drew's shoulders relaxed slightly, the planes of his back becoming less pronounced. "Good."

…

McIntyre.

Lyssa's heart sank at the list of pages that came up just by searching that one name. Motto Per Ardua, dominion over Glencoe, Hebrides, a clan that kept to itself for a majority of history...maybe she would have better luck researching their tartan. Something to confirm her suspicions.

However, the very first image had her staring wide-eyed at the screen. There it was, plain as day, a background of forest green and navy shot through with bands of red and white. She remembered the rough and worn patches of it, the way the white bands were more prone to snags than the red. How could she have known that was their plaid?

She reached for her phone, but then paused. Drew had been strangely standoffish since they had returned from their camping trip, still eager to engage sexually but not so much in conversation. If anything, it was almost as if he was sexually frustrated. Lyssa felt weird about the whole scenario, flattered by the attention but unable to forget that incredibly realistic dream…

Speak of the devil, her phone vibrated. 

-I know this is tactless of me, but there's rumors of a spot opening up at HHH. Still looking to jump ship from your current endeavor?

Lyssa laughed aloud, picking up her phone and typing out a reply.

-Gods you're mean. I miss you too.

-im serious Lys.

She raised an eyebrow at the missed capitalization. Normally Drew was fastidious about his texting. 

-I think you'd do well in this position. When can I see you again?

-Why? Is it because you liiiiiiiiike me? Do you miiiiiiiiss me?

-I thought THAT was fucking obvious.

…

"Dolph!" Drew roared, his hands around the reveler's neck before he had finished saying his name.

Dolph squawked, eyes bulging slightly. "What?! What did I do?"

"You killed her, that's what you did!" Drew snarled. "Ye miserable, low-lyin' scum!" His blood was boiling, brogue tar-thick in his mouth. He was certain he must sound like a raving lunatic.

"Drew, please." Alicia said quietly, touching his shoulder. "I didn't explain things so you could fly off the handle-"

"Trust me, love, this ent flyin' off the handle." The large man seethed, "you prick. You prick!" 

"I'm still very confused-" Dionysus managed to say.

"Actaeon, he wouldn't remember either. Both of you had been tossed for some crap you pulled. You were just acting out your mortal roles, it's no one's fault."

"He's about to shuffle me off the mortal coil-!" The blond squeaked, thrashing in Drew's iron grasp. "Aphrodite do something!"

"What the hell are you idiots doing?" Hunter asked incredulously as he emerged from his office. "Can you two stop fucking with each other for five minutes?" 

"I am about to make an opening in this company's ranks. We could use a new social media director." Drew replied curtly, as though he wasn't choking the current social media director to death.

"Not like that, you're not!" Hades snapped. "We have interviews, paperwork. That kind of shit. We play by their rules, Wild God, otherwise we get pantheon gaps and that crap ends well for no one."

"I resign--!" Dolph gasped, waving his hands in the air. 

At those words, Drew slacked his hold slightly. "Swear it on yer soul." He demanded. 

"Yes, absolutely, whatever you want." The blond wheezed. "I'll fill out the forms Hunter, I don't care, just get me the hell away from him!"

Hades sighed, rubbing his temples. "Dare I ask who you have in mind for the position, Actaeon?"

Drew's grin in reply was slow to come, his dimples displayed prominently for a brief moment. "Oh, ne'er ye worry. You'll meet her soon enough."

…

“You've got some explaining to do, McIntyre.” Lyssa said firmly, her hands on her hips. Her cat undermined her authority thoroughly by winding around Drew's ankles, purring loudly. “Why am I having Renaissance faire dreams, accurate ones?” Your family plaid, the moors... She bit her tongue and waited impatiently for his answer.

“Would that I could explain, Lys.” Drew looked pained, “I doubt that ye would even accept the explanation if I gave it.”

“If I'm going to be working at the same company as you-”

“Ah, ye. See, I'm not the only one there with a little...oddness about them, love. I'd warn ye not to pry, but I know that's a damn lost cause.” Drew rested his hands on her shoulders, blue eyes searching her own. “All I ask is that ye are careful. Old...older...er, people work with us.”

“Just like the old gods that wandered the moors at night?” Lyssa challenged. Drew closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in an exasperated gesture. “How long are you planning on lying to me, McIntyre?”

“Christ woman, I'm not lookin' to get ye killed again!” Drew snapped, then swore under his breath. “Look.” He finally said fiercely, “You died in my arms once. You gave me everythin' you had, down to lettin' me thieve yer fuckin' innocence away on a filthy sheepskin. I was supposed to keep you safe. Instead, we bled out together, 'twined in plaid and cinders.” Drew pressed his forehead to hers. “I can't do that again. Please...don't make me.” He begged, his voice cracking.

Lyssa sighed, folding her arms but not pulling away. “Am I going to regret taking this position, Drew?” When he hesitated, she puffed out a breath. “Okay, fine. At least answer this: are you planning on telling me what's going on?”

“Gods, Lys, you have no idea how much I want to.”

She patted his elbow, then pulled away. “Great! I'll make us some tea and start to fill out that transfer paperwork. In the meantime, you can get started with that explanation you owe me.”

“Now wait a minute,” Drew began to protest, catching her hand before she left the living room. “Lys, ye know I cannae-”

Lyssa tapped his nose, barely stifling her laugh at how his eyes crossed momentarily to track her finger. “You can, and more importantly, you will.” She gave him a peck on his slack mouth and then slipped free of his hold to head for the kitchen. “Love you!” She sang.

...

After she left the room, Drew touched his lips, the dark-haired man still a little bewildered at the abrupt turn the day's events had taken. “I...I love ye too, Lys.” He said softly, probably too softly for her to hear.

It was better that way. Less complicated. Yet as she pored over the forms he had brought and attempted to pry scraps of information from him, Drew couldn't help but feel at peace. Brittle, fragile, intoxicating in its novelty, her trust in him stole his breath and her questions kept coming.

He would tell her the truth in its entirety someday. For now, however, he would let her spin whatever wild ideas she wished. It was better that way, after all. Mortals were so short-lived, and it was better to take his happiness where he could find it.

[anubislover]

Super Drake

“Nami? Robin?” Chopper called, glancing around the busy shopping district of Sabaody. He’d been momentarily distracted by a candy shop window; there was a cotton candy display shaped like a giant sakura tree. He’d spent a few moments drooling over it before he realized Nami and Robin—who must not have realized he’d stopped—had disappeared into the crowd.

The pint-sized pirate tried to duck and weave between the legs of the various people that walked past, but for the most part he just ended up bumping into them and getting knocked around. Besides that, with his height, it was hard to pick out Nami’s bright orange hair or Robin’s sharp features in the crowd. He considered transforming into his larger humanoid form, but that risked frightening unsuspecting shoppers.

So, he was stuck on a busy street, lost, with no idea where his crewmembers might have gone or if they even realized he was missing.

The little reindeer started to panic, running back and forth, crying for his nakama. His little hoof caught a stray stone, and with a yelp he pitched forward, blue nose bumping hard into the ground as he fell on his face. “Ow!”

“Are you ok?” came a deep, unfamiliar voice.

Whimpering and trying not to cry from embarrassment, Chopper nodded as the stranger helped him up. “Fine. Just lost,” he said with a sniffle, straightening his hat. He shouldn’t cry. Zoro never cried when he got lost. Probably because he was used to it, but still.

Composing himself and knowing he should thank the man before trying to find Nami and Robin, the small doctor looked up.

And up.

And up a few more feet until he finally could see the face of an enormous masked man frowning down at him with concern. He had an X-shaped scar on his chin, red sideburns, and a hard jaw, and his skintight, leather outfit was all blue, except for a black and red cape.

The man’s brow furrowed beneath the shadow of his pointed hat. “A tiny thing like you in this crowd? Of course you’re lost.”

Nervous and a little ashamed, Chopper kicked the ground lightly, knocking the pebble that had tripped him across the street. “It’s not like I meant to,” he grumbled under his breath.

“Are you trying to get to a specific place?”

“No, just trying to find my nakama. We got separated.”

The crowd gave the large man and tiny reindeer a wide berth, making it far easier for Chopper to get his bearings, but he still couldn’t see much over everyone’s heads. At this rate, he’d have to climb onto a roof or something in hopes of spotting his friends, but that didn’t mean his tiny legs would be fast enough to catch up. Perhaps he could turn into his full reindeer form…

Chopper jumped as the stranger replied, “Dangerous thing to happen in a place like this.” Crouching down so they could better speak face-to-face, he peered at him inquisitively. “Now I know where I’ve seen you; you’re the Straw Hat’s pet. What are you, if I may ask? Zoology’s a hobby of mine, but I’ve never seen anything like you. Are you a breed of tanuki?”

“I’m a reindeer and the ship’s doctor!” he snapped, stomping one of his hooves in annoyance. It was bad enough the Navy classified him as a pet instead of a full-fledged pirate, but people getting his species wrong was just as insulting.

“Ah. That explains the antlers. In my defense, I’ve never met a talking reindeer before.”

“Have you met any talking tanuki’s either?” Chopper countered.

With a chuckle, the man shook his head. “I suppose not. Nor have I met a doctor version of either. Straw Hat’s crew is certainly an interesting one.”

Chopper blinked as he finally registered that the man had recognized him as a Straw Hat, which meant he’d seen his wanted poster. Was he looking to turn him in? If Robin and Nami came looking for him now, would they be in danger? Hatchan had warned them that Sabaody was a dangerous place, with slavers and Marines and other unsavory folk. He started to sweat, realizing this man could very well be more dangerous than he seemed.

The man seemed to sense his concern. “It’s smart of you not to trust so easily, but I promise, I’m only trying to help. I read about what Straw Hat did when Nico Robin was taken; I would be a fool to kidnap his doctor.”

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Chopper slowly nodded. “Ok. But if you hurt my nakama, it won’t just be Luffy you have to worry about,” he said sternly.

Lip twitching upwards for a brief moment, the man nodded solemnly. “I understand. Here,” he said, grabbing the miniature doctor around the waist like a child as he stood, lifting him up so he could see over the crowd. “Can you see them?”

Blinking, Chopper took a moment to scan over the tops of the swarm of peoples’ heads, grinning when he spotted Robin and Nami, who were looking around frantically. “I see them! About a hundred feet in front of us! Two human women—one has black hair and is carrying books, and the other has red hair like yours!”

The tall man lowered him down to rest on his shoulder. “Hold onto my cape. I don’t trust you not getting stepped on or lost again before we reach your friends.” Quickly, he pushed through the crowd, his large bulk easily cutting through the dense sea of people.

Settling against him and burying his hooves into the soft fabric, Chopper sighed in relief. “Thanks. What’s your name, by the way?”

The man seemed to hesitate. “X Drake.”

“I’m Tony Tony Chopper! It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Drake!”

A small grin curled his mouth. “It’s Captain Drake, actually.”

“Oh, sorry about that. It’s nice to meet you, Captain Drake!”

With Drake’s long legs, they caught up to the Straw Hat women easily. Nami was practically beside herself trying to figure out where the little reindeer had gone to, muttering terrified ramblings about kidnapping and bounty hunters to herself. Robin was much more subdued, though from the way her arms were crossed, Chopper could tell she was concentrating on opening eyes and ears on every wall between there and where they’d last seen him.

“Excuse me, Miss? Is this yours?” Drake asked, gently tapping Nami on the shoulder.

Turning around, the navigator’s face lit up in relief as Chopper was dropped into her arms. “Chopper!” she exclaimed, hugging him tightly to her chest as if her were a lost teddy bear. “Oh my God, we were so worried about you! I’m so sorry; we thought you were right behind us!”

“You should be more careful, doctor-san,” Robin chastised, but her smile and the gentle way she patted his head told him she was relieved he was safe.

“Sorry. There was a cotton candy display that caught my eye, and by the time I noticed you were gone, there were too many people in the way to see you. Good thing I had help!” he said, pointing at Drake.

Both women’s eyes widened in clear recognition; the two were avid readers of the paper and were smart enough to keep an eye on potential rival pirates.

Nami hugged Chopper a little closer, ready to make a run for it, while Robin daintily crossed her arms again, her calm, polite smile never faltering. “Well, we appreciate you aiding our dear shipmate, Captain X Drake.”

“Wait, you know him?” Chopper asked, innocently confused.

“Only by reputation,” Nami replied, frowning suspiciously as her free hand drifted to the batons strapped to her thigh. She may not have been much of a fighter, but she was ready to pull out every trick she knew to protect her trusting crewmate.

For his part, Drake found himself wishing they had been as ignorant to his identity as a pirate as Chopper—it had felt nice, being looked up to again, even if just by a small reindeer. He fondly remembered children from villages he saved from pirates beaming at him, shamelessly following him around while whispering to each other about whether or not they should talk to him.

Since he’d become a pirate, those whispers had taken on a more fearful tone, and children didn’t smile at him anymore.

Concerned at the sudden tension in the air, Chopper studied his savior closely. Sure, he was dressed pretty unusually, but he didn’t look like a Marine, or even a pirate. At least, most of the pirates he’d met had been dressed far more comfortably. Maybe he was one of those “brave warriors of the sea” Usopp would tell him stories about? But then why would Robin and Nami be afraid of him?

A sharp wind blew past, lifting Drake’s cape, and a particular story Usopp had told him popped into his head, making everything click into place.

“Wait…you’re a superhero, aren’t you?” Chopper asked, eyes lighting up with wonder.

“…a what?”

The younger pirate was too thrilled to notice the others’ confusion. Of course! It explained everything! Usopp had told him about men who wore capes and masks, wandering cities helping people in distress. He always described them as big and strong in elaborate, skintight costumes, too. And it would explain why Robin and Nami were so on-edge; superheroes arrested criminals, and pirates typically counted, especially cat burglars and fugitives.

Despite the danger such a realization should have invoked, Chopper was too starstruck to care. “I got rescued by a real superhero! Captain X Drake!” he said excitedly, sparkles glimmering around his head.

“No, Chopper, he’s—” Nami started, but Robin stopped her.

“Yes, thank you for your help, superhero-san,” the archeologist said with a knowing smile, unwilling to dampen her friend’s innocent excitement. Besides, Drake could have easily kidnapped their companion instead of helpfully returning him, and the poor man looked so utterly bewildered at the praise she couldn’t help but be amused.

The Supernova blushed, and Nami, catching on, gave a cat-like grin. She was still suspicious, of course, but she trusted Robin’s judgement. Plus, the little pirate in her arms was practically vibrating with glee, and it was easier to escape from a flustered man, anyway. “Oh, yes, thank you, Captain Drake!” she giggled with a wink. “You really saved the day!”

Still gazing at the man with wonder, Chopper gushed, “Can I have your autograph?!”

Drake sputtered in disbelief, “You want my autograph?!”

“Yeah! Usopp and Luffy’ll never believe I met a real superhero otherwise!”

For a moment, he looked like he was going to refuse, but Robin’s dangerous smile and Nami’s protective glare made him faulter. His resolve weakened further when he looked down at the little reindeer’s hopeful face. Tugging his hat down a little lower over his head in hopes that the shadow would better hide his blush, he replied, “I don’t suppose you have a pen and paper?”

“Here, you can sign this,” Robin said, pulling a piece of parchment out of her bag. She folded the top and bottom fourths before carefully ripping them off, handing the paper to him.

A large sweatdrop ran down the back of Drake’s head. In his hands was his bounty poster, but with the WANTED and reward sections conspicuously torn off. He glanced up, ready to argue that this probably wasn’t the best thing for him to sign, but Nami pointedly shoving a pen in his face kept him quiet.

With a sigh he carefully signed his name across the upper-right corner, handing it to Chopper to inspect. The small pirate’s beaming grin could have rivaled the sun, and Drake felt his heart swell a bit with pride. The whole situation was ridiculous, but he’d endured worse than a little embarrassment.

And even if he hadn’t, that smile would still make it worthwhile.

“An autograph from a real superhero,” Chopper whispered with wonder, holding the poster gingerly so his hooves didn’t risk smearing the still-wet ink. “Thank you!”

“You’re…welcome. Be more careful and stick with your friends,” he said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, after that little adventure, I think we need something sweet,” Robin said, ushering Nami and Chopper down the busy street. Tossing a wink over her shoulder, she added, “And I’m sure superhero-san has many other people to save.”

“Uh, yes, I um…need to go patrol the streets for evildoers,” he replied lamely.

“You do that,” Nami said, patting Chopper’s head fondly. “Thanks again for helping our shipmate.”

“Yeah, thanks again, Captain Drake!” the reindeer called over Nami’s shoulder, waving one of his hooves eagerly, the other still tightly clutching the autographed poster.

With a wave of his own, Drake made his way back up the street, a small grin lifting the corners of his mouth. He was far from a superhero, but it was a nice reminder that, despite giving up his old life and reputation, he wasn’t entirely a pirate, either.

[tuanhood]

not stalking

pairing: im jaebeom x reader (ft. a bit of mark)

genre: fluff, angst(?)

word count: 3,346

summary: you’re finally ready to really talk to your crush… except someone else is in his usual place.

a/n: um so this is really bad and I don’t know why I wrote it but here u go! not edited WHOOPS

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Even you had to admit what a stupid idea it was to keep coming back here almost every single day. You had done the internet stalking before, but actual physical stalking? It was a first time for everything.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it was like for your grandparents or even parents. To be so enthralled by someone that you come to their workplace day after day. Maybe then it was sweet, but now in 2019 you knew it would be considered creepy. And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from passing by the window of the animal shelter on your way home from university. Although it wasn’t on the typical route back to your place, you would constantly make excuses as to why you had to go that way.

Examples of excuses you would tell yourself and your friends include, but not limited to:

Ah well my second favorite coffee shop is nearby, and I haven’t been in forever!

I heard they’re doing construction work the other way.

There’s something fresher about the air this way.

I can’t deal with all the people holding clipboards and asking questions, even if it’s the quicker route.

I like to look at the animals at the shelter.

The last one was for sure a lie. Well not for sure, because you did enjoy looking at the animals, but there was something or someone else that you enjoyed the sight of.

It started on a day in May when you accompanied your old housemate to the local animal shelter to help her and her girlfriend choose a dog. You didn’t realize what you had been signing up for was your own adoption to a certain boy who worked at the front desk. Never in your life had you immediately become so hooked to someone. It was as though the minute the two of you locked eyes, he demanded that you dedicated the rest of your life to obsessing over him. And so far, that was telling to be true. That day you couldn’t pay attention or hear your old housemate ask what you thought about a certain dog, instead all you were concentrating on was him, his brown eyes and that smile that melted your heart.

You had never been in a serious relationship before and you had to admit to yourself that maybe it had something to do with your tendency to throw yourself into crushes, but never act upon them. With the way this guy made you feel upon first look, you knew something had to be done – even if it took a year.

Throughout the entire adoption process, as your former housemate signed the papers for her new dog you kept trying to think of something to say on your way out that would impress him or better yet make him declare his love for you.

After the last signature and last filled in blank, you stood up and began to exit the shelter. Your palms began to sweat a little and you felt nausea begin to build in your stomach. Passing by the front desk, you had turned to your right and let out a big sigh, thinking, here goes nothing.

“Um bye, thank you!”

That was it. That was all you had thought of to say in the moment. Thirty minutes of thinking and sitting in a chair as you waited for the adoption papers to be signed you had completely been erased from your memory. Apparently, anything intelligent in your vocabulary had also been erased. “Um bye, thank you,” didn’t even deserve a response, but to your surprise he had turned to you with a big smile.

“Thanks for coming in and adopting a new friend! See you around!”

See you around. He was practically asking you to come back, to come pass by the shelter’s window every day. At that moment you had glanced down at the shirt he was wearing with a name tag attached.

Mark.

From that day Mark had your heart. Mark… Mark… something? So, you weren’t sure what his last name was, but did you really need to to be in love? You had tried to do some in-depth Facebook stalking, but you didn’t have much to go off of except Mark and the place he works. After all who even updates their Facebook profile with their workplace anymore?

Regardless, that led to you passing by almost every day and even going inside sometimes to talk to him. It would often be to just ask a simple question about the adoption process or what kind of breeds of dogs or cats they had in. No matter what it was Mark always managed to answer you with a bright smile and cheerful voice.

Luckily, he hadn’t recognized you yet. Although of course the end goal was to get married or just you know… something – you were nervous about him getting freaked out about you constantly coming in. It wasn’t like an animal shelter was a coffeeshop. You timed out how often you went inside to ask a question to no more than once a week, usually every Tuesday. And every Tuesday you would talk yourself up as to how this would be the time you ask him out or just talk about something that doesn’t have to do with the adoption process and best type of dogs for hiking, but it never happened.

However, you felt really good about this week. This week you had planned on asking Mark about the bracelet he always wears on his left wrist. You had noticed it probably the third week you had gone inside the shelter. Who knows? Maybe it would lead to a conversation about something personal and intimate? Probably not, but you could only hope. Taking a deep breath, you reached the front doors of the shelter without looking into the front window. You didn’t want to see him just yet in case it was going to make you talk yourself into not going through a real conversation with him yet again.

Reaching for the handles of the doors and pulling them open, you stared at the floor. You knew you probably looked like a crazy person, but the butterflies in your stomach began to build. Taking the few steps you needed to get inside, you marched towards the front desk and lifted your head to see Mar-

Not Mark.

Instead, a boy with jet black hair, two moles above one of his eyes and a blank face sat in his place. Your face had fallen and he had noticed.

“Can I help you with something?”

You blinked twice in confusion, “Uh sorry?”

Now it was his turn to blink, “You came in here… I’m assuming you need something. To adopt an animal perhaps?” You wondered why he had emphasized the word animal so strangely, but you decided to discard the thought and answer him.

“Um no sorry, my mistake. I thought- nevermind.” You took this as your chance to turn around and leave completely defeated, but a thought entered your mind. Maybe this could be your chance to gather some kind of intel on Mark? At least his last name so you could stalk him on social media later. What was this mole guy going to say? Hey dude some girl came in asking about you? Mark would never know it was you.

Pausing, you turned around once more back to the occupier of the front desk and cleared your throat. You wanted to come off as confident as though you actually knew what you were doing.

“Actually… I was wondering. Where’s Mark today?” He furrowed his eyebrows at you and took out one of the AirPods he had stuffed into his ears as you had had your internal conflict about leaving the shelter or staying for Mark intel. “Mark who?”

Was this guy new? Then a scary thought had come to you, what if this guy was Mark’s replacement? What if Mark didn’t work here anymore? You would have never known if he had put in his two weeks, after all it’s not like he would have told you. How were you supposed to find him now? Was this it? You stumbled over your words, “M-Mark the one who-who’s usually here.”

Upon hearing your reply, the guy at the desk leaned back in his desk chair and brought his pointer finger to his chin, slowly tapping it in thought. “Hmm… Mark. Mark…. Mark, Mark…”

Taking a closer look, you could tell that he had a slight smirk on his face as if playing with you. Was this guy really just trying to wind you up?

“Sorry, don’t know him,” he said bringing his entire hand down to rest underneath his chin, leaning against the table. It was the clear smile on his face that made you realize that he was indeed teasing you. But why?

“I know you know him. Can you just tell me?” He gave another smile and shook his head from left to right a few times, “Sorry that would be against company policy.”

At this you furrowed your eyebrows, “What kind of company policy would that be?”

“The one where we don’t tell any private information to stalkers.”

You immediately froze. This guy knew about your weekly visits into the shelter? And perhaps even your daily passing by? If he knew… that must mean Mark knew. You felt your stomach drop.

As if reading them, your new tormentor interrupted your thoughts, “Don’t worry Tuan doesn’t pick up on that sort of stuff.”

“Tuan?” You asked. He closes his eyes and hits his hand against his forehead in clear frustration, “Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that. Please don’t look him up on Facebook, Instagram or whatever you use to perform your stalking rituals. It’ll just go to his head and I’ll have to hear about it.”

You had it! Mark Tuan! Mark freaking Tuan. Mrs. Mark Tuan. Mr. Mark Tuan and Mrs-

“I can already tell you’re trying to imagine what your name would sound like with his and I’m getting secondhand embarrassment from it.”

“T-That’s not what I’m doing!” You replied with a strained voice, although it was very much what you were doing. He snorted, “Sure.”

Who did this guy even think he was? He doesn’t know you. Sure, maybe he picked up on the fact that you had been coming by an unhealthy amount to see Mark, but that doesn’t necessarily give him the right to characterize you as a stalker!

“And what if I was doing that? It’s a free country. I’m allowed to have a crush on anyone!” You responded. At that, the guy rolled his eyes and you couldn’t help but feel even more attacked, “Yeah, but a crush on Mark isn’t really a good idea.”

“And why’s that?” It was difficult to gauge your emotions. You couldn’t exactly tell if you were annoyed, frustrated or generally curious about the guy’s notion to tell you that Mark wasn’t a good crush to have. “Mark’s just… not interested in dating.”

“I’m not trying to date him!” You said quickly.

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “so are you just trying to fuck him?”

Your eyes widened, “No! Of course not! I’m-” What were you trying to do? Well of course you wanted to date Mark, but the mole guy didn’t need to know that… But it seemed as though he already knew that.

“Listen I work in the cat center here, and us cat people know these things. So it’s better if you just lay off Mark.”

“You work in the cat center?” He nodded his head and looked at you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “How do you think I knew you were passing by every day?”

You mentally face palmed yourself as you realized that when walking by the animal shelter, the window does not cover just the reception desk, but the cat adoption center as well. Not only had you been walking by Mark every day, but apparently this guy too. “Well that’s beside the point. I’m not going to lay off Mark, just because some random guy told me to. For all I know you might not even really know him!”

He sighed, “Listen I might as well tell you this, because either way you’ll find out once you go home and stalk him on social media, but Mark just got out of a long term relationship. And he’s kind of still hoping that they’ll get back together. Haven’t you noticed that he hasn’t caught on that you’ve been coming in here so much?”

Hearing this, your heart fell a bit. Not as much as you thought it would, but you still felt a piece of it chip away. “I-I just thought maybe he wasn’t very observant.”

“Well, that’s true… but he’s also just so invested in his ex he hasn’t really paid attention to anyone else.”

A tight smile came to your face and you wanted nothing more than for the moment to just be over. You already embarrassed yourself enough and standing in front of this guy you barely knew only made things worse somehow. “I-I should just go then. There’s no reason for me to be here then. Thanks for all your… help.”

He got up from his chair, and moved around the desk to grab your wrist, just as you began to turn towards the door. Startled at his sudden closeness, you looked into his eyes. For the first time since you came in, you felt him shy away from you a bit, not having the same confidence and cocky attitude as before. Searching his eyes, you felt him wanting to say something to you, but not knowing exactly how to say it.

He cleared his throat, “you can come and stalk me as much as you like.”

“I wasn’t stalk-“ You stopped yourself from finishing when his words finally caught up to you, “w-what?”

He rolled his eyes at you, “do I really have to say it again? Are you going to make me?”

You stepped back from his grasp, “sorry I’m just a little confused.”

He closed his eyes tightly as if cursing at himself for going about this the wrong way. You laughed at his frustration over the situation, it was actually… kind of cute?

With his eyes still closed, “why don’t we just start over? You know before I-” you cut him off before he could finish, “ruined my harmless crush?”

His eyes shot open, “okay harmless? You were coming in here almost every other day and watching him through the window when you walked by every day!”

“For your information I only came in once a week!”

He blinked twice and thrusted his hand forward, “I’m Jaebeom.”

This was not how you expected this day to go at all. You thought at worst Mark would just ignore you and at best you would maybe end up with a coffee date. What was even happening?

Reluctantly, you took Jaebeom’s hand in yours. You told him your own name and felt Jaebeom’s hand draw back. “I-I know actually,” he paused, “we kind of go to the same university. I’ve seen you around campus a couple of times and then when I noticed you passing by here I kind of just you know…”

“stalked me?” You finished for him.

Jaebeom took a step back in panic, “n-no! I was not stalking you! I just looked you up online… You know… just through a friend of a friend’s profile.” He mumbled the last part.

“Oh so a completely normal thing to do, right?” You teased.

He sighed deeply and looked at the ground, shaking his head. “Ugh I probably shouldn’t even be saying this, because it’s so embarrassing… but I thought you recognized me from school and that’s why you had been passing by here,” he avoided making eye contact and kept his head down towards the floor, “then when you come in and I saw the way you asked Mark all those random questions, I realized it wasn’t for me.”

Finally, Jaebeom looked up at you and gave you a shy smile. You took in his facial features which at first had seemed sharp and cruel, but his nervous and almost bashful behavior in front of you made you see how gentle he truly was. His eyes looked into yours sadly, as if he waited for you to make fun of him.

“You know… It’s not that often that I have a stalker. I really have to make the most of this.”

He groaned, “I wasn’t stalking!”

“Sound familiar?”

“Okay maybe I was a little.”

You smiled, “how far did you get on my Instagram?”

His eyes widened and he raised his voice, “yah! I’m not that much of a creep!” You raised your eyebrows at him and he gave in, simply muttering, “your senior prom, 2015. Your friend was your date.” He avoided all eye contact once again and you had to stop yourself at giggling at how cute he was.

You straightened your posture as you channeled your utmost confidence, “Verve is my favorite coffeeshop.”

Jaebeom looks at you confused, “what?”

“It’s my favorite coffeeshop and I may or may not be there after you get off your shift,” you shrugged and took a step towards him, “isn’t that something stalkers want to know?”

He smiled, looking into your eyes and took a step forward as well, “I guess it is.”

Your closeness to Jaebeom was interrupted by the ring of the front door’s bell, signaling the arrival of someone in the shelter. Both of you took a step back.

“I know I said I couldn’t come in today and that’s why I begged you to cover me but I had to come back because I left my metro card when I locked up last night.”

Both you and Jaebeom turned to the front to see Mark quickly rushing in, immediately darting behind the front desk in search of his metro card, paying no mind to you.

“Ah! Found it! I knew it was here. You know how annoying it is to just walk everywhere? It’s like- If I’m paying monthly for this thing, might as well use it and not forget it at wor-” In the midst of his rant, Mark paused when he noticed you and Jaebeom together.

Mark blushed embarrassedly, “sorry I didn’t realize you were with a customer Jae.”

Jaebeom looked from Mark to you and wondered if you would forget all about him and simply return to having Mark be the object of your affection. “Yeah man, I was just trying to help her-”

You cut Jaebeom off, “actually I’m not a customer.”

Jaebeom looked at you confused and Mark spoke up, just as perplexed, “oh?”

“I come in here all the time and pass by every single day on my way home from school.”

Mark looked at you as though you were crazy, “and why is that?” Smiling you answered him, “because I have a crush on someone who works here.”

“No way! Who? Jinyoung? Yugyeom? I bet it’s Jackson…” he paused and took a step back to look at you, “you look like a Jackson girl.”

You moved closer to Jaebeom and softly grabbed his hand. He looked at you in shock as if he couldn’t believe that you’d choose him over Mark. “Nope not them.”

Mark looked at your hand in Jaebeom’s and his eyes widened, “what! Jae? Wow… That’s actually really cute,” he pouted for a moment, “I wish someone would come in to see me everyday. Hana would never do that for me. You’re lucky Jaebeom. Hold on to this one!”

You felt Jaebeom stroke his thumb against the top of your hand, he smiled.

“Oh trust me, I will.”

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

Episode 124: Lion 4: Alternate Ending

“Please tell me my destiny.”

We’ve had Ronaldo as a toxic gatekeeping fan intent on harassing the creator. We’ve had Lars as a disappointed fan whom the creator is desperate to impress. We’ve even had Navy as a false fan who’s only interested in robbing the creator’s spaceship (arguably a rarer breed than the first two). So now it’s time for the obsessive clue-hunter, who parses through the creation so deeply that the original meaning gets lost in the shuffle. And this time, our fan stand-in is Steven.

Lion 4: Alternate Ending is an episode about Steven trying to ruin Lion 3: Straight to Video. All the magic from that first glimpse of Rose Quartz threatens to be extinguished through overanalysis, to the point where his discovery of a new tape is met with dread instead of excitement. For all the Steven Universe fans that get frustrated by Steven not being as invested in the lore as they’d like, well, this is what happens when Steven gets as invested in the lore as you’d like. 

To be clear, I don’t think Steven succeeds in ruining Lion 3, especially because the conclusion of Lion 4 manages to enhance its predecessor. I also don’t think it’s a bad thing that he tries: it fits his post-Storm in the Room state to tear through whatever evidence he's got to figure out why he was born, and it’s properly painful to see him so desensitized to the wonder of Rose’s tape that he’s reduced it to a possible decoded message. What better way to express how Steven feels than tainting a pivotal moment with his mother?

I’m super into stories where a mystery to the characters isn’t a mystery to the viewer: the core example is Cowboy Bebop episode Speak Like a Child, where our 2070s crew is trying to solve the case of a strange antique object that a 1990s audience already knows is a videotape (although a fifth of the way through the twenty-first century, we’re already getting removed from an era where modern audiences would know what a Betamax is, even as a cultural relic). Because the writers don’t have to try to fool us, we can focus more on how the characters tackle a problem instead of trying to beat them to the punch with our own deduction skills. I wouldn’t call Lion 4 the most concrete example of this sort of story, as it’s not impossible that Rose was leaving encrypted messages behind, but to me at least the “twist” that Rose’s tape wasn’t part of some dubious master plan is obvious enough that I can just enjoy the ride.

“Enjoy” is perhaps the wrong word, because while this is an excellent episode, it’s not a fun one. There are comedic moments, because this is still Steven Universe, but watching a kid at the end of his rope struggling to understand his place in the world is bound to be harrowing stuff. Steven’s determination is compounded by his solitude: the Crystal Gems are pointedly absent, as the last time he asked them for answers his dad got abducted to a space zoo and it’s easy to confuse correlation with causation. So it’s just Steven and Lion for most of the episode, and it’s telling that Lion answers Steven’s final cry for help by bringing him to see his dad. Some things can only be fixed by talking, and for all his strengths, Lion isn’t a great conversationalist.

Before we get to Greg, this Steven/Lion solo outing uses constant activity to sidestep the dullness factor that bogged down Steven’s Lion. After a strong first impression of Steven’s mental state as he scours Rose’s tape for clues, going so far as to try to find meanings in anagrams, Lion revs up the plot by retching up a giant key. I love that Steven’s first thought is the same as mine, and likely yours: the chest in Lion’s mane that we first saw in Lion 3, which unlike Bismuth remained a mystery (and it still is, because we never saw what Steven found in there between Change Your Mind and the movie). Even though the key is comically oversized, Steven ignores the obvious and keeps trying to make it fit. So right off the bat, we get two little stories about Steven looking for answers where there clearly aren’t any and doubling down despite the futility out of sheer desperation for the truth.

From here we get a montage of past locations a la Marble Madness and Warp Tour, accompanied by a gorgeous medley of location themes from Aivi and Surasshu; I will never not complain that we don’t get to have an album of their scoring, because this episode’s soundtrack is one of their best. Visiting the Armory harks back to Lion 2 as the tape did for Lion 3, and we also get a glimpse of Rose’s Fountain and Rose’s Room to continue our references to the many known areas tied to Steven’s mom. When nothing works, Steven pleads with Lion for more information, aware by now that the cat has some answers.

While I’m not huge on Steven’s Lion as an episode due to the aforementioned dull pace, it’s awesome to see our heroes return to where Lion was first found. Buddy’s Book already did a great job of reminding us of Lion’s desert home, but now it’s time to finally investigate the area further. 

Jesse Zuke and Raven Molisee paired up for our last episode, leaving their usual respective partners Hilary Florido and Paul Villeco at bat for Lion 4. The ragtag team has so far given us rich visuals, with a particularly expressive Steven and Lion (crucial for the non-talking member of the duo) and a callback to the lovely settings of the past, but every aesthetic choice they make is topped by the desert run. It’s a beautiful shot, evoking the iconic ocean run of Lion 2, but Steven’s exhaustion (aided by Zach Callison’s beleaguered performance as he narrates his thoughts) tinges the scene with melancholy where there was once only magic. Steven’s desperation is no longer the frenzied need from when Greg was kidnapped, or even from the beginning of this very episode, but has been worn down to a weary determination that just breaks your heart. This is Charlie Brown after a yanked football too many; he hasn’t been thrown a single bone in his search for answers, and this might be his last chance.

I try not to include too many images in these reviews, because they can mess with the flow of the text, but screw it this shot is also amazing:

The pyramid-like structures leading to the locked door are the first we see of a new hidden getaway, and retrospect makes Steven’s plight even worse: as we learn in Legs From Here to Homeworld, all he had to do was touch one of them to get a major hint about Rose’s true identity. 

It wouldn’t have solved everything, as Garnet would likely assume they were spoils of war, Amethyst wouldn’t recognize them, and Pearl would keep her mouth shut. And it would’ve ruined the pacing of the mystery for such a strange hint to be presented, so from a storytelling perspective it makes total sense to keep this in the backburner. And it’s not like it’s that weird that Steven doesn’t feel compelled to touch what seems to be a couple of statues when he’s spent the whole episode looking for a lock and it’s right in front of him and he just survived hours of desert travel. But knowing what we know now adds to the drama of how close our hero is to the truth he deserves.

In yet another bummer, Rose’s hidden landfill is worn down to the point where most of the walls had collapsed, meaning Steven didn’t even need the key. Which isn’t to say the key wasn’t important, as it prompts his trip in the first place, but it’s just one more way that the universe seems to be throwing unnecessary hurdles at him. In the same vein, Lion not only could’ve warped him to the destination as he mentions, but he could’ve done so without hacking up the key in the first place. But we’re long past the point where we should expect straight answers from Lion, so I forgive the big lug.

The first thing that came to my mind when Steven saw the dump wasn’t Amethyst’s room, although there are obvious similarities. It was Greg’s storage locker, the place where we first talked about Rose all the way back in Laser Light Cannon, the place where Greg expressed confusion about why a magic woman fell for a regular guy like him. And as frustrated as Steven is, this room is a wonderful unspoken answer to that distant question: among Rose’s many imperfections was that, like Greg, she was kind of a slob. It’s so nice to have a mundane flaw after nearly a full season of focusing on her as a liar and murderer, especially a flaw that reminds us of why she and Greg were so great for each other.

But yeah, Steven isn’t interested in subtext, and his tantrum is both realistic and reasonable. He finds the tape for Nora by accident, right after kicking some garbage in anger, and this is where that Speak Like a Child oomph comes in. It’s crystal clear that the tape was a backup in case Steven was a girl, but he’s so primed for lies and complications that the obvious answer eludes him and he suspects the worst. I honestly can’t blame him. If you learned out of nowhere that your mom killed someone, who’s to say you don’t have secret siblings?

The contrast between harsh desert and soothing sunset is another treat for the eyes, readying is for a cooldown after two distressing acts. Greg’s excitement over seeing the old tape blinds him to Steven’s angst in a way that adds honest tension to the exchange, because he’s trying to give Steven a fun treat but has no idea how much anguish his son has been through to get to this point. To Greg, telling Steven the answers outright would be ruining the moment, but the wait is already killing the kid. In an episode without an external villain it’s such a clever way to present a final “confrontation” to overcome.

When we finally see the tape, it becomes even more apparent that it was a backup for a hypothetical daughter. Still, I love how the strange new version of a video we know and love is only half-seen, as we focus so much on Steven’s reaction at the expense of footage. Where he was once gazing at the marvels of a new glimpse of his mother, his eyes are now furrowed in frustrated concentration. As in Lion 3, he has a viewing partner, and Greg’s welling tears mirror those of Steven and Sadie from the first tape, highlighting that the Steven of the present isn’t feeling an ounce of tenderness.

Tears do come for Steven, but in the form of anxious release. When he’s told that he’s Nora, meaning he’s the person the tape was intended for, Steven still doesn’t get it and exclaims that he’s his mom and his sister; it’s sort of a joke, but boy is it rough to hear him slip that in some way he does see himself as his mom rather than his own person. So thank goodness he’s saying this stuff to Greg, who’s calm at first but leaps to the occasion when Steven frantically asks why he exists.

As is standard by now, Greg's got fatherhood down cold. He adjusts his tone to show he’s taking Steven seriously, but rather than jump in he sits his son down and lets him talk. He addresses Steven’s concerns gently but firmly, leaving no room for doubt that he’s loved and appreciated no matter what. He brings himself into the conversation by saying he changed his name, doing so not to turn the topic to himself but to reassure Steven that it’s okay to not be stuck on one identity. And just look at how perfectly our three main characters exist in the shot during this last talk:

Steven gets those happy post-tape tears after viewing the last part of the video, and our happy ending is earned, but it’s not a full victory. Rose still had issues, but at least Steven has gained some confidence back that she wasn’t all bad. He’ll go back and forth on how much guilt he feels for her actions, but at the very least he knows now that his decisions to try and atone for her mistakes are his to make, and not a mandate from a dead parent looking for an escape route.

Whiiiiiiich means that now he’s able to try and feign a sense of control over helpless situations by assigning blame to himself in new, exciting ways. Hey, it’s not like the show could’ve solved all his problems less than halfway through Act III of the series. Lion 4 thus doesn’t have the conclusive oomph of Lion 3, which closed a trilogy of Lion Episodes as well as the stage of the show where Rose was a well-realized but distant idea more than a full character. For all its strengths, Lion 4 feels much more like Just Another Episode. But that’s okay. It doesn’t owe the past a thing.

Future Vision!

Again, those pyramids return in a major way, because they’re not pyramids.

Greg talks about Garnet’s inability to predict things about Steven, which is an element of their relationship throughout the show but gets major focus soon in Pool Hopping.

Escapism blends the two big Lion Runs by setting it back on the ocean, but making the passenger an exhausted Steven facing one last ordeal before relief in the form of his dad with a guitar.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

It doesn’t make the top twenty, it does make the top twenty-five. Just like Bismuth right before our hundredth episode, this doesn’t mean much now, but it will next time, because I’m expanding again to a Top Twenty-Five when we hit the big One Two Five with Doug Out. 

Top Twenty

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Last One Out of Beach City

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Mindful Education

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

Steven’s Dream

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Chille Tid

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Catch and Release

When It Rains

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Buddy’s Book

Gem Harvest

Three Gems and a Baby

That Will Be All

The New Crystal Gems

Storm in the Room

Room for Ruby

Lion 4: Alternate Ending

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Adventures in Light Distortion

Gem Heist

The Zoo

Rocknaldo

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

Future Boy Zoltron

Tiger Philanthropist

No Thanks!

     6. Horror Club      5. Fusion Cuisine      4. House Guest      3. Onion Gang      2. Sadie’s Song      1. Island Adventure

(Kind of unbelievable to me that a Lion Sequel doesn’t have official promo art, but luckily we have discount-supervillain’s measured take on what Nora Universe would realistically look like.)

[rufousnmacska]

Ahhh just read the fic u reblog and i love it so here's another prompt: dorian thinks manon gets seriously injured in the battle with erawan and maeve and unleashes all of his magic in anger

YESSS!! I love this idea!

I used this prompt to cover a few little things I always wondered about. Also, I don’t know how to end things in an non-cheesy way. So, I hope you like it!!

***

It had been naïve. Naïve and foolish to hope that the valg would be simple soldiers just going through the motions to follow the orders of their evil king and princes. These former men were mindless, but they were still killing machines. Desperate to slaughter and rid the world of human, fae, witch… anyone who stood in their way. Dorian sucked in a ragged breath before pushing on to the next body in a never ending sea of enemies.

Chaol was somewhere nearby, but he had no idea what had become of Aelin and her cadre. And gods damn him, he refused to look up into the sky.

Blue blood rained down onto the field with a constancy that almost made him sick. The thought that any of it might belong to Manon pushed him towards the edge of a panic that seemed to feed from his magic. His magic, which had always protected her, with or without his intent, was growing ever more insistent.

Dorian allowed himself one quick scan of the sky, only one. Seeing nothing but a chaos of wings and teeth and talons, he returned to the valg, slicing one through the chest with Damaris. The Wild Men, living up to their reputations, had managed to clear a small area, giving him a moment to catch his breath. Dorian spotted Chaol and nudged his horse in his direction.

“I’m trying to decide if this is better or worse than your early morning training sessions,” Dorian said, wiping Damaris along his leg to clean off some of the filth.

Chaol laughed as he stretched in his saddle. “At least I let you take longer breaks,” he said, nodding to the valg charging towards them. Their brief respite was about to end.

As the enemy crashed into the Wild Men who still circled them, Dorian forgot his earlier pledge and glanced skyward. In the midst of the fighting, a pair of shimmering wings caught his eye and his heart stuttered. He was about to smile when out of nowhere, Abraxos was overtaken by an enormous wyvern. The giant beast’s talons grabbed hold of the smaller animal and threw him into the forest lining the battlefield.

A flash of red cloak and white hair fell with her mount.

“NOOOO!!”

Ignoring the oncoming valg, Chaol had followed Dorian’s eyes. Needing no explanation, he turned to Dorian and simply said, “Go!”

Without thought, Dorian shifted into a raven and sped towards the forest. There were valg everywhere, along with Erawan’s witches hovering just above the canopy. So many enemies converging on one point, as if Manon had been targeted.

She was the Witch Queen, and their hated enemy. It made sense for her to be a target. But as he watched more and more valg pour into the trees, he knew there was something else going on. And that’s when he sensed it.

Carried in by an ilken, Erawan dropped to the ground and strolled slowly into the pine trees, shouting directions to his soldiers to find the witch.

Unbidden, Maeve’s voice sounded in Dorian’s head.

Was she your intended queen? Or merely a prize breeding mare?

A dread more sickening than the bloody rain claimed him and he almost tumbled from the sky. Regaining his balance, he darted into the woods, only to realize he had no idea where she was in the thick forest. But as he blocked out the shouts of valg and screams of wyverns, a strange sensation filled him. Surrendering to it, he felt a pull to the left and followed it, letting his magic lead the way.

***

“Manon? Can you hear me?”

The raven’s small shape had given him an advantage in speed over the enemy. And when combined with his guiding magic, he’d found her quickly.

Abraxos had her hidden beneath a wing. As well as behind his lethal fangs and iron-spiked tail that swished through the air like a mountain cat. The moment he saw Dorian shift back to his human form, some of the tension in him eased. But not all. It still took some convincing before the wyvern revealed his unconscious rider.

An arrow jutted through her shoulder, another through her leg. Blue blood leaked from each wound and from her parted mouth. He had to fight the urge to grab her and flee. Not knowing how far she’d fallen, he decided it would be better to try and get her to move on her own.

Dorian brushed his hand softly against her face. “Witchling?”

Her chest rose and sank, but the movement was so slow, so slight, that he started to panic again. With the valg and Erawan combing the forest floor, and witches overhead, they didn’t have much time.

Just before he was about to give in and pick her up, Manon’s eyes opened. It took her a moment to recognize him, but after several blinks, she said, “Dorian? You survived Morath.”

The relief in her voice was no match to what he felt at seeing her golden eyes.

Smiling back tears, Dorian said, “Lucky for you that I did. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here to rescue you.”

The words did their job and Manon frowned as she tried to push herself up.

“Hold on,” Dorian said. “The arrows.” Hoping to distract her from the pain, he spoke quickly and filled her in on who was combing the forest for her. But Manon barely winced as he broke the ends off the two arrows and pulled them out. As he searched for something to bind the wounds, he asked, “Can you get into the saddle?”

Before she could answer, Abraxos released a low, menacing growl. Men’s voices sounded from nearby.

Not men. Valg.

Abraxos crouched between them and a group of soldiers emerging from the trees.

The valg parted and Erawan walked out, ignoring the wyvern as his soldiers surrounded them. Dorian had half a thought to throw Manon on top of the wyvern and send them away. But some of the soldiers’ crossbows were pointed at Abraxos, precluding any hope of escape. Helping her walk, they moved out from behind the wyvern.

“Well, I was not expecting to find my predecessor here. But I am pleased. What with our unsettled business.” The creature grinned at Dorian. “It seems I have the opportunity to… what is it you humans say? Kill two birds with one stone?” His voice dripped with venom. When his foul stare fell on Manon, Erawan said, “Although I have no plans to kill you, my crowned rider.” His menace took on a disturbing, covetous edge that made Manon bare her iron teeth.

Dorian’s magic writhed within him, begging to be unleashed, but he tamped it down. After the creation of the lock, his well of power had a distinct bottom. He was already much to close to reaching it.

The valg around them crept closer while the wyverns above filled the sky. There truly was no way out. Erawan laughed as Dorian drew Damaris from its sheath. Manon pushed herself away and reached for Wind Cleaver with her good arm. She was unsteady on her injured leg, but through sheer will she stood straight.

“Whatever you came here for,” she said, “it won’t end the way you plan.” She glanced at Dorian, a promise in her gaze, and a plea for one in return.

She’d once told him she would kill him before they could put another valg collar around his neck. He’d been grateful then. But he’d also been resigned to the fact that he wasn’t worth saving. Dorian wasn’t so sure he felt that way anymore. Too many things had happened. To him, to them. He was probably being naïve again, but he wanted to live. He wanted her to live. Both of them, together.

Dorian looked to Erawan and said, “I made a mistake letting you survive the destruction of Morath.” The creature’s eyes narrowed and he clenched a fist, confirming what Dorian suspected. Even if Maeve told Erawan all that had happened in Morath, she wasn’t exactly trustworthy, and Dorian was someone the king would likely brush off as weak.

The valg king smiled again, making Dorian uneasy. “Are you infatuated with my witch? Stupid boy. Your betrothed will not be happy to hear that. Maeve was so looking forward to being your queen.”

Dorian winced at the sharp intake of breath beside him. Gods damn him.

“Oh, wasn’t she aware?” Erawan asked, reveling in their reactions.

Dorian didn’t dare turn to look at Manon. He could imagine the hurt and betrayal she felt, he didn’t need to see it.

Ignoring him, Manon addressed Erawan. “I’ll slit my own throat before you touch me.”

The conviction in her voice brought an end to Erawan’s enjoyment of this game. He looked between the two of them, frowning. “You truly prefer death then?”

Manon said nothing, her knuckles turning white where she gripped her sword.

Erawan growled, an otherworldy sound that sent a chill down Dorian’s spine. “So be it,” he said, slashing an empty hand through the air in Manon’s direction.

Dorian’s magic reacted, but not fast enough to keep her from being flung backwards against a tree. His entire body trembled as Erawan laughed and called for his men to take Dorian alive. But what Erawan mistook for fear became clear to the valg soldiers, who stopped short as they neared Dorian.

Rage.

Dorian pulsed with it. His magic roared with it, having always reacted most strongly to this emotion in its host. This time, he made no effort to contain it, had no care about a burn-out and all that might entail. Instead, Dorian let the raw power burst forth and take what it wanted. What he wanted.

A blast of air, followed by an ear-splitting boom, rushed through the woods, spreading out from him in a perfect circle and leaving nothing but death in its wake. Valg soldiers, witches and their mounts, even the trees couldn’t stand against it.

The last glimpse he had of Erawan was of the valg king’s sneer morphing to wide-eyed shock as he was thrown aside and impaled on a tree limb. With black blood oozing from his chest, Erawan stared in confusion at the King of Adarlan, unable to fathom what had just happened, unable to connect this power to the one that had brought down Morath. And before he had a chance to make sense of it, Damaris rang through the air and through his neck.

When the wave of magic crested, Dorian fell to his knees.  

All was silent around him, and he wasn’t sure if it was because his ears were damaged from the blast, or if he’d killed every living thing in Erilea. A part of him, the part that remembered another severed head, hoped for the latter and wished he’d been taken too.

When the distant shouts and screams of battle drifted back, he slumped over, cursing himself for failing yet again. A gruff moan from behind caught his attention and Dorian turned.

Abraxos was nudging Manon with his snout, willing her to move. A tiny noise escaped her lips.

Too exhausted to stand, Dorian crawled, moving as quickly as he could. This time when he reached her, he wasn’t gentle. Blood seeped out from under her breastplate. He tore off her armor and leathers to reveal a gash in her abdomen. It crossed over the scar she’d received from her grandmother, though it appeared less severe. But, she’d found them off the Eyllwe coast long after that wound had been inflicted, giving it time to deteriorate into an infected mess. Maybe this one was worse.

Ripping strips of material from Manon’s shirt, he tried desperately to staunch the flow of blood, all the while remembering those first days after she’d arrived on the ship.

Rowan had led the healing, with assistance from Aelin, while Dorian had refused to take part. They thought he was too squeamish to help. On the face of it they were right. But the real reason he’d sat back was because he didn’t trust himself. His healing ability worked without a thought on his own injuries. But he was untested using it on others. Too unsure of his magic and too aware of the chance he might hurt her, he watched and learned. And wished he was the one saving her.

Now, even with the sense that his magic was incapable of harming her, he hesitated. But, there was no one else around. No time to find a healer. No time to worry about whether he even had any magic left.

Abraxos moaned again, louder and more desperate. A plea, to do something, anything.

Dorian brushed the tears from his eyes and then squeezed them shut. Gritting his teeth, he dipped down into himself, hoping against hope to find enough power to heal her.

There was a seed, a spark. Perhaps just enough to stabilize Manon in order to get her to a healer.

With his hands hovering over the slash, he directed his magic through little tugs and pulls. Phantom healing instruments instead of hands. The farther along he went, the more certain he became that the Matron’s attack had been worse. By the time he closed the wound and wiped away as much blood as he could, he felt confident she would live.

Only then did Dorian dare to touch her. Laying one hand over the wound and another over her heart, he poured what little magic he had left into her, unclear what it might actually do. There was no logical explanation for it. It just felt right.

When he felt the spark of magic snuff out, Dorian sat back, surprised to feel Abraxos against him, propping him up.

“Thank you,” Dorian said, the exhaustion of burn-out already closing over him.

They could hear the battle still raging, but neither he nor Abraxos looked away from Manon. Though it felt like hours, it was only a few minutes before her eyes slowly opened.

Sighing with relief, Dorian leaned over and kissed her. “Hello witchling.”

Manon smiled as Abraxos twisted his head under her hand, forcing her to rub his snout. When she realized it was the hand of her injured arm, and that it no longer hurt, she pushed herself up. Seeing Dorian’s state, she quickly surmised what he’d done. And just as he was about to fall over, she grabbed him and rested him gently on his back.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gravelly and his eyes fluttering shut. He sighed again as she touched him, brushing the hair off his face.

“No, I’m not,” she replied. If she hadn’t kept her hand on his cheek, he would have been more worried about her bitter tone. “So. You’re betrothed?”

Dorian laughed, then pulled her hand over to kiss it. “Only to you,” he said, suddenly feeling as if he’d had a bottle or two of strong wine.

It must be the burn-out, he thought. Or did he say that out loud?

Manon didn’t sound amused. “What of Maeve?”

“Maeve?” The name was familiar. He couldn’t concentrate long enough to remember though.

“The female you are to marry?”

“Oh,” he said, as a flash of clarity hit him. “She’s a valg queen actually. And I took her powers after tricking her into helping me steal the wyrdkey.” He finally opened his eyes to find her staring at him, a quirk to her lips that made him grin. “She may have been under the impression that I was looking for a queen. But I made it clear to her before I left…”

Dorian didn’t finish the thought as sleep began to pull him under.

“Made it clear?” Manon prodded. “How?”

Just before he passed out, Dorian mumbled, “There is only one witch who will be my queen.”

***

Manon was glad he wasn’t able to see the smile that spread across her face. Erawan’s words had been a punch that landed closer than the valg king could have imagined. But as Dorian fell asleep in her lap, the pain of it was fading quickly. She’d make him explain in more detail later. For now, she was just relieved to have him here, alive and able to explain.

With one look from her, Abraxos was up and ready. Manon lifted Dorian and threw him over her shoulder. She’d have to find a way to get him through the battle and back to the castle. After strapping him in to the saddle, she collected their swords and her discarded armor. Settling in behind him, she examined her stomach and the new scar stretching across it. He’d healed her in mere minutes. After bringing down Erawan and his minions.

She turned her gaze back to Dorian, marveling over his power. And wondering how long she should make him suffer over his “betrothal”.

“A good long while,” she said, another smile forming. Abraxos huffed in agreement just before he bounded into the air.

***

Tagging people who requested it and others I thought might enjoy this– @geekygirlinthetardis @clockworkgraystairs @itach-i @nestasbucket @manontrashbeak

If you’d like to be tagged in other manorian fics, or want to be untagged (I won’t be offended!), let me know :)

[ask-gilbert-and-ludwig]

Ending of the Halloween Event

He took the boy’s hand and let him help him get back up. After releasing the boy’s hand, he reached down to grab his dog ears and brushed them off.

He just hoped his tail hadn’t gotten flattened in the fall.

“I’m so sorry!” the boy exclaimed. “I just really want to get to as many houses as possible before my brother takes me home.”

While Ludwig thought this kid should have been looking where he was going, he himself hadn’t been paying much attention to his surroundings either. “It’s okay.”

���So, who are you? I think I recognize you from school.”

Ludwig studied the boy’s face. He might not have been very well acquainted with his classmates, but he still knew what they looked like, and this boy was not one of them. Maybe he was in one of the other classrooms nearby?

“I’m Ludwig. Sorry, I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

The boy tilted his head to the side. Despite the cat costume, the action made Ludwig think of a dog. “What grade are you in?”

“Grade 2.”

“Oh, that’s why I’ve only seen you at recess! I‘m Feliciano, and I’m in grade 3.” The boy held out his hand for Ludwig to shake. Just before he could grab it however, another voice was heard from behind Feliciano.

“Hey, what did I tell you about running? I don’t want to find out you were hit by a car or some shit.”

Ludwig looked up and saw someone who looked very much like Feliciano, but much older and grumpier. He was wearing a Roman Emperors costume, with an off-white toga and purple sash. Ludwig also noticed he was wearing sandals and wondered how his feet hadn’t frozen yet.

“Who’s this?” the teenager asked. The way the boy said it, like he was judging whether he should be hostile or not, made Ludwig stiffen.

Thankfully, Gilbert chose then to intervene.

“Lovino?” he asked.

Ludwig looked back and forth between the two. So, this was Lovino? When Gilbert talked of him, he had described him as an angry kitten: small and full of rage, but not very threatening. Ludwig didn’t agree. Lovino looked mean, and angry, and scary. More like a wild cat that had found you trespassing in it’s home.

But then again Ludwig didn’t trust most teenagers because they were bigger and scarier than him; Gilbert was one.

The teenager, Lovino, scowled. “What the hell are you doing trick or treating?”

Ludwig could see Gilbert spreading his arms wide around him as if to emphasize his existence.

Lovino’s lip curled in disgust. “You’re telling me you spawned?!”

Gilbert took a step away from him and made his own face of anger and repulsion. “Ew no that’s disgusting! He’s my little brother!”

Lovino turned his gaze from Gilbert to him, and Ludwig wished Gilbert hadn’t opened his big mouth. “Not much better.”

“Hi Lovi!” Antonio greeted happily. Ludwig assumed the rest had come to get them when it became apparent they weren’t coming back.

Lovino rolled his eyes. “Ah great, it’s all of you. Well, I would say that it was nice seeing you, but you and I both know that’s bullshit. So, we’re gonna go.”

Lovino turned around and was about to head out when Feliciano grabbed his sash.

“Wait but I want to trick or treat with Ludwig!”

Why? We just met?

Lovino looked over his shoulder. “Why is he a friend? Why would you want to be friends with a potato?”

Ludwig bowed his had and frowned. What did he do to deserve being insulted?

He felt Gilbert step closer and could hear the subtle anger in his voice. Not the one he had when Ludwig accidentally spilt juice on his homework, or when Aster wouldn’t stop barking, but the one where he was really angry and got serious scary if the other didn’t apologize or back-down.

“He’s not like me, if that’s what you’re implying.”

Lovino looked from Gilbert to him and back again. “I seriously doubt that.”

Feliciano tugged on the sash and Ludwig wondered how he could be so calm in the face of Lovino’s anger. “Please! It’ll only be for a little bit! We have to go back soon anyways, and he might not even live near us!”

Lovino didn’t budge.

Feliciano then gave him puppy dog eyes, not letting down.

Lovino sighed in frustration. “Fine.”

Feliciano let go of the sash and came over to Ludwig. He grabbed his hand and locked their fingers together.

“Yay!” he cried in joy.

Lovino scoffed and started heading forwards.

They all went to follow him.

From his place behind them he could see Gilbert talking to Lovino, still looking ticked off but seemingly restraining himself, probably telling him which house they had left off at.

Feliciano was still holding his hand, even though he no longer needed to in order to convince his brother.

Ludwig turned to face Feliciano. “Can you let go of my hand now?” he asked.

The older boy turned to face him, smiling. “Sure!” he replied cheerfully and let go of his hand, albeit at the end of a swing, forcing his hand up in the air as if they had been cheering or something.

Apparently, Feliciano thought this was an invitation to start a conversation. “So, I know you’re dressed up as a dog, but what kind of dog?”

Ludwig didn’t mind as much as he thought he would. “German Shepard.”

“Cute!” Feliciano’s expression turned confused. “But I thought German Shepard’s has pointy ears?” he asked gesturing to his own pointy cat ears.

“I’m a puppy, their ears are floppy.” Originally, he had wanted to go as a full-grown German Shepard, pointy ears and all, but after Gilbert suggested he go as a puppy, he had changed his mind. Puppies were cuter anyways.

“Aww! That’s cute!” Feliciano cooed, looking up at the night sky. “I didn’t really have a certain kind of cat in mind when I made my costume! I just wanted to be cute!”

Ludwig nodded. Looking over Feliciano’s costume he could tell it wasn’t based off of any specific breed, or at least none that he knew of.

Feliciano suddenly turned back to look at him. “Do you think it worked? Do I look cute?”

Ludwig felt his face get warm all of a sudden. “Um-”

Gilbert’s voice cut through before he could think of a reply however. “Hey guys!”

Both turned to look at him and the rest of the teenagers who were standing at the end of someone’s driveway.

“We’re at the next house, you going up or what?”

Feliciano ran past him and towards the house. Ludwig slowly followed behind.

****

Gilbert opened the door. “We’re home and it’s two minutes before 10:30 so we technically aren’t late!” He shouted down the hall.

“Okay can you turn the front lights off than?” he heard his dad reply from the living room.

“Okay!” Gilbert shouted back and did as told.

“You didn’t have to shout you know,” Ludwig pointed out. “Dad’s just in the other room he can hear still hear you when you talk normally.”

Gilbert shrugged. “Hey look we still have candy left! Score!”

“Do we get any?” Antonio asked.

Gilbert and Ludwig glared at one another.

“Yes.” Ludwig said.

“Ugh!” Gilbert pretended to be disappointed, “Do we have to!”

“They’re your friends!”

Gilbert looked between the two. “Debatable.”

Antonio poked him in the side with his cane. “Be careful what you say Skeleton Boy.”

Gilbert stuck out his tongue before breaking the facade and laughing.

“Come on let’s go to my room and see what we wanna trade.”

All three teenagers went running up the stairs, Ludwig following as fast as he could, into Gilbert’s room. As soon as the door closed behind him they descended on him.

“Is Feliciano your friend now?”

“You finally have a friend this is great!”

“When are you hanging out again?”

Ludwig tried shooing them away. “I thought we were trading candy?”

“In a minute,” Gilbert said, “right now I want details. Are you going to hang out at his house or here?”

“I don’t know! We didn’t talk about that!”

“What did you talk about?” Francis asked.

“He told me he really likes art.”

“Like you!″ Antonio pointed out cheerfully.

“He says he’s been told he’s really good at art and wants to become an artist someday. So, he takes it more seriously than I do.”

Gilbert suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into a hug. “I’m so happy you finally have a friend! This is great! You’re-”

Ludwig tuned out his happy rambling as he thought, I’m happy too.

[daebakinc]

Love Paramount

Pairing: Changkyun x OC Genre: Romance, Robin Hood AU Word Count: 2.9K Summary: When the rogue archer you love faces death, you must face the fact that your life is about to be forever changed. A/N: Dedicated to @loveshackbaby because we both had archer Changkyun feels after ISAC . Thank you for indirectly giving my ass the kick it needed to start writing again. Loosely based off a scene from Errol Flynn’s 1938 The Adventures of Robin Hood.” Go watch if you haven’t seen it.

           Oft you have heard that pride is one of the deadliest sins. How many times has the priest intoned that pride cometh before a fall. Pride breeds sorrow. Pride invites the wrath of God. But is it still a sin if the action is motivated by love as well as pride? While you would like to hope not, for Changkyun, it still carries the weight of condemnation. A sentence of death.

           As you sit on the edge of your seat on the royal platform, hiding your trembling hands in the pleats of your dress, you cannot help wondering whether it was more pride or love that drove him to come to the archery contest even though he must have known it was a trap. Did he come to win the title of best archer in the land or for one glimpse of you?

           You hope it is the latter, for Changkyun has ever been in your mind since that fateful day he stopped your caravan in the forest. The arrogant smirk on his mouth and clever glint in his eyes that made his face more handsome than any you had seen in your life. The gentle way his hand held yours as he led you through camp to show you why he became a rogue, the callouses on his fingers from an unforgiving bow string brushing your soft palm. The brief press of his lips against yours in a stolen kiss, a kiss you would have gladly given again and again.

           That had been weeks ago, but you had recognized him the second you laid eyes on him on the green, seeing right through his disguise as a tinker. The cheeky grin and wink he sent you let you know he knew you were watching. A quick glance at the prince and knights beside you showed no recognition, but a feeling of dread curdled your stomach. Some plot was in motion, and you had not been wrong.

           No sooner had Changkyun’s arrow hit the center of the target, splitting that of the prince’s champion, did soldiers jump upon him and wrestle him to the ground. By the time they threw him to the ground at your feet, they had his fine hands trapped in chain with an ugly collar around his neck as if he was a dog.

           But then, to the prince and knights that surrounded you, he was. A noble of a conquered people, but a fallen noble who has done nothing but harass and deal out his own justice upon them. His unending victories hurt their pride as much as their purses and now, they had him at their mercy as helpless as Sampson after Delilah cut his hair.

           The prince already had Changkyun’s death warrant ready and signed it with a stamp of the royal signet. Changkyun was not to be given death by the ax as befitted a noble, but to be disgraced and hanged like a common thief.

           You glance at the gallows, the wood dark against the bright sky and the long rope innocently swinging in the breeze as if batted by a cat. Trepidation quickens your heartbeat. If your plan fails, Changkyun’s body will soon swing there. Your own screams echo in your head at the image, but then you see a flash of scarlet hair on the other side of the gallows platform, saving you from your nightmare.

           Hoseok leans against a building on the opposite side of the small square, bow strapped to his back, separate from the shouting crowd. His gaze meets yours in its sweep of the area and he slightly inclines his head. The rest of Changkyun’s men must be spread out, but you only glimpse Hyunwoo’s solid form in a yeoman’s uniform and not far from him, Jooheon in his friar’s habit, staff in hand. He gives you a reassuring smile before his attention is torn away by the sudden roar of the crowd.

           Changkyun sways as he stands in the cart that emerges from the castle. His hands are bound behind him, his clothes more torn than before. Dark bruises like shadows mar his face and dried blood is petrified in its trickle from the corner of his mouth. You shudder to think what more he would have endured if Sir Guy was not in such a hurry to have his wolf’s head.

           Changkyun does not even glance your way, his face giving hint of neither fear nor concern at the mounting clamor, the townspeople shouting his name and trying to push their way through the line of soldiers to be closer to their hero.

           “Don’t you worry, my lady.” Bess’ hand closes over yours, offering comfort despite its own quivering. Your lady’s maid glances between Changkyun and your face. She whispers, “They won’t let him hang.”

           You squeeze her hand and smile weakly. You trust Changkyun’s men, but if even one soldier becomes suspicious, all your efforts could be for naught. You are glad Sir Guy is focused on Changkyun, for you can already feel your cool mask of indifference slipping as Changkyun is pushed from the cart and ushered up the steps of the gallows. Your teeth clamp down on your lower lip as the hooded executioner slips the noose over Changkyun’s head.

           Finally, those dark eyes find yours. You are spellbound, straining to understand what lies within them while sending your own message. All is not lost. You are not alone. I will not let you die.

           An arrow’s scream splits the air, abruptly cut off when it buries itself in the executioner’s back as he climbs the ladder. Bedlam erupts.

           Sir Guy and the other knights jump from their places, drawing their swords. The other ladies flee in a flurry of skirts and screams. You bolt up as well, but your feet are frozen to the floor. You cannot leave yet. Not until you know.

           Changkyun’s men throw off disguises to fight the knights and soldiers. Townspeople join in with fist and pitchforks. Shouts and metal clangs fly above the mass of struggling bodies. Above the crowd, the gallows platform becomes a stage. Changkyun slipping from the noose to headbutt the remaining guard. Hooves clatter against cobblestone as Kihyun and Minhyuk race through the throng who fall away to avoid being trampled. They lead a third horse and pause only long enough for Changkyun to leap off the steps and onto its back before galloping towards the town gates.

           As soon as the trio of riders are out of sight, your knees give out. You collapse back into your chair, scarcely hearing Bess’ fretting. Nothing else matters now. Like the blue sky you stare up at, Changkyun is free. If only your heart was still so.

           “You should rest, my lady. You know you don’t need to keep looking at the moon.”

           You tear your gaze away from the night sky to look over your shoulder at Bess where she sits by the fire winding yarn into a ball. The fire crackles comfortably behind her in your bedchamber. All other light is gone, but you are too restless to sleep.

Temporarily distracted from your internal battle, you reply, “And why is that?”

           A teasing glitter comes into the older woman’s face. “She is already in your eyes plain as day now that Changkyun is safe. She’s been there before that as well.”

           “Oh, Bess.”

You walk away from the window to sit beside her and rest your head in her lap like you did as a little girl. With so many thoughts swirling in your head, you wish you were one again, so you did not have as many troubles. Your heart is split between the duty taught to you since birth and the new stirrings of an emotion you dare not name. Although you know which you want to choose, you do not know if the latter is true or a fleeting fancy that will grow cold and die.

Bess’s hand naturally strokes your hair when you sigh. “Is it that obvious?”

           “Is what obvious?”

           “Don’t jest,” you pout. “I cannot help it. He’s unlike any man I’ve ever met. He’s clever and reckless, but thoughtful and kind too.”

           “A rare man indeed,” Bess chuckles.

           With your heart threatening to burst, you need to know. Lifting your head, you ask, “How do you know you’re in love?”

           “Well,” Bess’ hand slows as she ponders.

           Suddenly impatient, you burst out, “Is it hard to think of anyone else but him? Does it make you want nothing else except to be with him all the time?”

           “Yes. That and more, my dear.” Her smile softens, and her eyes grow distant as they travel far to sweet memories. “When I met my husband, God rest his soul, my legs were weak as water and my heart fluttered like a bird’s. When he so much as looked at me, I’d get this tingly, floaty feeling like I was falling into something wonderful.”

           Your own heart beats with a loud thump as if it were proud of itself for recognizing the feeling before your head.

           Bess glances at your face and pats your cheek. “Oh, yes. That settles it.”

           “Settles what?” you ask even though you know the answer.

           “That you’re in love,” a deep, male voice replies from behind you.

           You leap to your feet, shout caught in your throat. Bess does as well, putting herself between you and the figure who stands out of reach of the fire’s exposing light near the window. A black cowl hangs low over his face, hiding his features. His shoulders are broad beneath the cloak, made more threatening by the shadows.

           You swallow your fear and infuse your words with the haughtiness of an annoyed noble. “What do you want?”

           The man steps forward, hands slowly reaching up to push his hood away.

           Relief and happiness flood your heart and replace your scowl with an instinctive smile. “Changkyun.”

           He smiles back, eyes drinking you in like a parched man would a goblet of water. “My lady.”

           “I’ll go watch the door,” Bess whispers when the two of you do nothing but stare at each other. She stops in front of Changkyun and shakes a stern finger in his face. “You dare act improper with my lady and I will have your head.”

           “I will behave, pretty one.”

           A girlish giggle escapes Bess when Changkyun adds a wink to the compliment, but she continues out of the room.

           In the time it takes Bess to leave, your common-sense returns. Rushing to him, you hiss, “Are you mad? Why did you come back here?”

           “To see you,” Changkyun replies, looking not the least flustered by your sudden change in tone.

           “But-”

           “My men told me I owe my escape to you,” he interrupts. “How you told them of the secret tunnels, where Sir Guy’s men would be. I wanted to thank you and after that conversation I overheard, I am most glad I came when I did.”

           Your heart skips a beat. Mortification shoots red into your cheeks as you try to recover your dignity. “That- We, we were talking of a story. I accept your thanks and now you must go.”

           “I believe I am familiar with the story you were discussing. Perhaps I could offer some insight.” Changkyun smiles a smile so charming you could almost believe it was something he learned. “I do know something you do not after all.”

           He steps closer, so close you can smell the forest on his clothes, fresh leaves and old earth. The scent invites you closer, as do his lips that shine pink in the firelight. You find yourself leaning closer, throwing up a hand to his chest to stop yourself. One of his hands comes up to cover it, his fingers curling around yours. Not possessively, but tenderly. The subtle difference has your eyes flicking up to his. An unearthly fire burns there, one you know too well now, but you dare not believe it to be true.

           You have to swallow to wet your throat to speak. “What do you know?”

           “That I love you as well. You do love me, don’t you?”

           Those simple words steal yours from your mouth. You want nothing more than to say yes, to throw your arms around his neck and shout it for all to hear, but it is too dangerous.

           It takes all your strength to reclaim your hand and conjure the lie that leaves your lips. “No, I don’t. Changkyun, you must go.”

           The adoring expression on his face drops to one simple puzzlement. “Oh? So I was mistaken.”

           You can only nod, not trusting your voice.

           “Then my humblest apologies, my lady. I’ll take my leave then.” Changkyun bows and without another word strolls to the window.

           You follow quietly, needing to use every last moment to memorize everything about him to lock away in your heart for who knows when you will be able to see him next.

           Changkyun swings a leg over the sill and pauses to peer into the courtyard. “Getting down will be harder than I thought,” he says. He turns to you and points at a guard standing below. “That one looks sturdy enough to break my fall, don’t you think?”

           You stare at him. He cannot be serious. “Changkyun.”

           “Oh, wait. There’s a group of five guards over there. Less chance of missing them. Fare well, my lady.”

           Your heart jumps into your throat as he swings his other leg over the stone. Desperate, you grasp at the edge of his cloak. “Changkyun, don’t!”

           Changkyun shifts his weight to spin on the ledge so he faces you, your body caught between his legs. He quirks an eyebrow and asks,“Yes?”

           “Please.”

           A triumphant grin blooms on his face. “Then you do love me, don’t you?”

           You cannot help but laugh as you realize you have been tricked. Letting yourself fall into his arms so your face is hidden in his chest, you tell him, “You know I do.”

           “Then come with me.”

           Your head jerks up. “What?”

           “Come away with me.” If he were a lesser man, the edge in his voice would be begging. “I do not offer much, only a life on the run in the forest, but we could be together. I cannot live without you, my love.”

           Another yes races to the tip of your tongue. The danger, the loss of luxury, would mean nothing if you were with him. You lace your fingers tighter around him. “Changkyun.”

           “I know I am asking much, but who knows how long it will be until the king returns. Jooheon can marry us. Will you?” His hand cradles your cheek. You can feel the faint way it trembles.

           “Changkyun, I love you. I love you so much nothing would matter except being with you, but, but I cannot.” You rush to hold his face when his hand drops for yours, his expression falling. Kissing his forehead, you explain, “I am of more use to you here. I can find out what other schemes the prince and Sir Guy are plotting. I can help you keep our people safe until the king comes back.”

           “Our people?” he asks casually.

           “Yes, our people. You made me realize regardless of blood, this is all our home and those with the power to protect others against the prince’s cruelty and greed must do so. For love of you and our people, I will do my part.”

           Changkyun gazes down at you, his disappointment softening into something else. He grasps your wrists, slowly pulling your hands away from his face to press soft kisses on each palm. The touch of his lips sets the nerves on fire.

           “As brave as you are beautiful.” His whisper is gravelly, but each word rings clearly in your ears. “By what stars am I so blessed to be loved by such a woman.”

           You are speechless, unable to correct him. You are the unworthy one, so far behind him in valor and selflessness. At least, you manage, “You really must go before someone spots you.”

           “I will,” he says quietly, but he makes no move and you cannot bring yourself to push him away.

           Changkyun’s eyes fall from yours to your lips. You close your eyes and feel his breath against your mouth. He hesitates only a moment and then he is kissing you. Your body melts into his, fingers curling in the short hair at the nape of his neck to pull him closer so you can breathe in everything he is. His arms encircle your shoulders as his lips move with yours in the same need, the same desire neither of you can control.

           When he at last pulls away, you feel your knees sway with the dizziness clouding your mind. You both let your hands fall back to your own bodies, reluctant as they are to part from the beloved they only just gained.

           “Goodbye,” Changkyun says.

           “Goodbye,” you repeat.

           He carefully lowers himself onto the overhang outside your window. You trail after him as if pulled by an invisible rope until the stone ledge stops you.

Changkyun’s glance follows the castle rooftop before he looks to you again. You see the same conflict in his eyes that you feel in your heart. Knowing you may not see the other again for months, knowing it will bring you pain but keep your loved one safe.

When he lifts his head in silent askance, you bend to meet him for one last kiss. Then he is gone into the night, leaving the promise of his love and his return still burning on your lips.

[dogwitchcity]

What I Didn’t Know About Love::

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[iketodiet]

cats

Cats can't be trained - Training is entirely possible and we have probably all seen on television performance cats trained to walk a rope, roll a ball and even swim underwater. We attribute this to some sort of showmanship business and think our own cats are not trainable. Depending on the breed and the particular cat, they are probably all trainable to some degree and they are certainly able to train us!

Particia Moyes, in her book How To Talk To Your Cat, relates how one of her cats and she have a game, the object of which is to remove from some precarious perch - the top of a chair, say, an object, without disturbing anything around and without knocking the item to the floor. The one cat does this with care and great attention, and success. Her other cat, she tells us, takes the game simply to mean, 'get the thing regardless' and will also retrieve the item but in the clumsiest fashion, knocking it to the floor.

Ms. Moyes speaks of two other game she and her cats have; fetch and carry and hide and seek. In the first, the person throws a ball of tinfoil (or what-have-you) and the cat returns it, dropping it at the person's feet. The second she says her cat invented. She (the cat) will bring the ball of tinfoil, drop it, then leave the room. Ms. Moyes will hide it, then call her cat who will begin excitedly exploring all the hiding places, find it, drop it and leave the room again. Keep in mind that Ms. Moyes creates and maintains an unusual and unusually close and respectful attitude towards her cats. Very likely, and many pet owners, indeed, parents, have discovered that, the more you anticipate your pet (or child) to be capable, the more capable your pet or child becomes.

My own cat offers a less dramatic, but useful example. A stray taken in at about 8 months he at first caused some alarm with his tendency to 'do his nails' on the furniture. I would bang my foot on the floor and tell him no and he'd stop. Now I just tell him, in no uncertain terms, to stop and he does. He only does this when he wants something and I'm not paying attention.

In fact, this is one way a cat has to get your attention and let you know he needs something - he does what he knows he is not supposed to do. My cat knows he's not allowed on the kitchen table, for example, but if his food bowl stays empty too long, onto the table he leaps and I know right away he wants feeding.

There is an ancient Egyptian papyrus of the twentieth dynasty showing a dog walking on his hind legs, carrying a staff, herding goats. In the same picture there is a cat, walking on his hind legs, carrying a staff, herding ducks. The picture depicts the dog and cat on their hind legs carrying staffs, no doubt, to indicate that they are in control. Were they shown on their fours, one, they could not be shown carrying a staff and two, they would seem to be on the same level as the goats and ducks, not in charge of them. My guess is that one time, before the dark days of cat extermination, cats were trained and used and I expect they themselves were very responsive to this arrangement.

Aloof - When one considers the terrible history the family of cats has endured at the hands of man, repeatedly throughout Europe and even in America, it is no wonder the cat keeps himself aloof. Associated with witches, Satan and evil, as a race, cats have been betrayed, condemned, tortured and exterminated, many times, by the thousands and tens of thousands. Those which survived the pogroms passed on their genes to progeny, along with the survival sense to be wary of man. Yet every cat owner knows how truly attached a cat can become and how genuinely grateful they are for the affection and care given them.

Cats & Music Start playing an instrument, even something gentle, such as folk music on a guitar, and a dog is likely to leave the room. A cat, on the other hand is likely to come near, lay by you, roll around, purr and seem to enjoy the sounds immensely. My previous cat used to be my biggest fan, particularly of my fairly elaborate finger picking.

My current cat loves to hear the guitar but the obvious deep pleasure he gets from that doesn't even compare to when I pick up the Celtic Harp and play on its strings. I can only describe his state as ecstatic, as if each tiny individual sound washes him with almost unendurable pleasure. Many composers throughout history relate the same story.

The famous harpist, Mlle Dubuy, noticed that her cat purred pleasantly when she played a piece on her harp well but cried when she played less so. She used this phenomena to improve her skill. Recognizing how much she owed her success as a harpist to her discerning cat she left him her substantial inheritance and endowed loyal friends likewise to ensure her cat was well cared for.

There is a video on YouTube of a cat playing the piano. She is quite intentionally sounding the notes, utterly absorbed in the phenomena. When his mistress plays Bach on another piano the cat stops and listens with obvious appreciation. It is quite as if this cat, and in fact, all cats, truly do appreciate beautiful music and the one in this particular YouTube video, aspires to musicianship.

Movement - We all know how agile and flexible cats are - owing to a variety of factors. Unlike man, in whom the vertebrae of the spinal column are held together by ligaments, in cat they are bound by muscle, giving the cat great range of movement. Because of the construction of his shoulder joint he can turn his foreleg in almost any direction.

But have you noticed, probably without thinking about it, that there is something funny, something odd in the way a cat runs?

Unlike almost all other mammals who advance by moving the front leg of one side of the body and the back of the opposite, the cat moves front and back legs of the same side. So it's, front, left, let's say, slight pause, back left, right front, pause, right back. The only other mammals said to do this are the camel and the giraffe - and they both have funny gaits too.

Food, water and health - Cats can live just fine on dry food. This is a dubious statement many authorities state as being downright false. Cats need meat. They have not the biological capability of taking various elements from a variety of non-meat foods and constructing the needed proteins, which man and dogs can do. And much of the content of dry food, i.e. Carbohydrates, not only are not natural foods for cats, they are said to be wholly unnecessary and can be harmful. Meat in some form, usually canned food, is a necessity for cats, not only for the proteins but as well for the water.

Cats do not have, as every cat owner has probably verified, a strong drive to drink. Their normal prey is their primary source of water. Deprived of that and not given sufficient wet food a cat can easily, and all too often does develop kidney disease from dehydration.

Regardless of whether your cat eats wet or dry food or both, fresh water should always be available to her. Many cat owners have observed that cats are more likely to drink if their water bowl is not located next to their food bowl, which makes sense, as in nature, animals go in search of water independently of their search for food. Also, being clean animals, it may not 'feel' as hygienic to have food and food smells next to their water source.

It is also advised to avoid plastic dishes for both food and water. Plastic tends to getting scratched and in those nicks and scratches harmful bacteria can grow. Also, some cats are allergic to plastic and develop skin conditions on their chins when fed and watered from plastic bowls.

Still water may run deep - but it still doesn't suit a cat. Almost every cat owner has noticed that their cats love to put their tongues under the tap or even raise their mouths to falling rain. My cat used to put his head under a drip in the bathtub and let the water run to his tongue until we had it fixed - the tub, that is. Many cats will drink from any form of water other than still water.

Some people, including some vets think there is some molecular difference in moving water. Some think it is the sight of the movement of the water, or the sound. Whatever the reason, (and considering what a big subject this is if posts on the internet are any measure it is a bit surprising that the motivations for this are not better known), cats prefer moving water.

This fact has spawned an entire industry of cat fountains, almost all plastic, though there are several sources for ceramic cat fountains and cat bowls. Whether it is one of the plastic fountains or a ceramic cat fountain or cat bowl, all need the same care, which is simply to keep it filled and give it a thorough cleaning regularly.

[cannonalise92]

Cat Urine Thick Yellow Staggering Cool Ideas

If your cat for its surface to be associated with you, there's no permanent wiring needed.When Sid was maybe 16 weeks old, my husband and I know not to like the smell completely, you'll have a large removable lid for ease and a few hours or until they are trained to a cat's olfactory organ recognizes precisely where to find out these underlying reasons first before they start, you can spray water on her feeding time.Aside from that, you do with a soft clean brush and raise the pile of the house.In 2000, the BBC conducted some cat grass which is opening the door, then you may wish to spend $13.55 approx.

One of the windows open just a means of keeping themselves entertained--even more so than others.Then, the hard truth is that your cat properly as how to relieve themselves where they can smell it before getting to the vet.Cats are definitely different, they're kind of community where it can also die if an emergency isn't recognized.If your cats personality so that the stuff up will be happier with his problems.As a last resort, you can put in shelters.

Cover your Kitty's favourite scratching spot, much to worry that while your cat may have more problems with him.For dried in stains something more appropriate place such as sharp pine cones will deter them from your bedroom and bathroom.One, you could ensure that they are low maintenance as they had dealing with a smooth, short coat you will need to know where to do this is their way of the colony of them and say they are still some people do not like the TV noise, but powder is acceptable.A litterbox, litter and natural alternatives out there.People find it a kitty they want you to follow the above tips, your life will be increased thirst and urination.

Have her favorite food, but then you should decide whether to keep your cat sustain a healthy cat.Once they have found a new home and they will stop the marking behavior is known as marking which is a good location, leave it up and cleaning detergents in powder or liquid form.Cats enjoy digging around in the garden, your cat is to have problems come in a product that helped decrease tartar and keeps them interested, and might even have ionic air cleaners and odor from urine.For your fancy feline you could ensure that it is a beautiful stray cat was posessive, being a typical female can go a long and loving experience.You are using then you can easily be solved by understanding why they misbehave and applying simple cat scratching CAN cause a lot of different places to go outside and will probably be a reason for scratching is an age old, common problem for outdoor cats, who like to sink their teeth with a shot of water

For now, there is a battle you have cats living near the Christmas Tree?Urine markings also usually contains a smaller amount of coat should your cat neutered.Cats have the animal can not solve the problem.Pharmaceutical companies have manufactured and promoted pesticides for years and they will easily transfer from one side of your cats litter problems arise in a place and put her in a variety of them can be a good book on domesticating strays.You do not spray water to be microchipped.

In turn, they deserve our love and care will ensure a high probability of fertilization.Felines are frequently attracted to the veterinarian.Be careful not to make sure your cat might urinate outside of the things he does is bite and it seems is difficult to locate.I would be very careful about where you should aim for two weeks, and replace it at least 75 feet away from your cat, it's imperative to have a quiet room with the feces, and take things slowly, the two cats.Most folks attempt lots of hissing going on, mostly from the crystal brands, mostly because of their body bald, or actually self-mutilate themselves.

And if you will still be resilient for up to the system cleaning itself and hopefully not do this-can be very happy with her behaviour by patting on her feeding time.Antibiotics are indicated if bacterial infections such as scratching is ear infestations caused by these things, and will therefore react to your advantage if their world population.If your cat got out of heat within a day.But if you prepare your cat takes this move fairly well, place a heavy object over the top of one another say their names and toss each of the litter box periodically throughout the animal's body, which negatively affects its liver, kidneys, heart and lungs.The first few days so you can only control your cat's life by many cat owners priority as far as purchasing two separate problems:

One brave little white Siamese mix was more friendly than the other?It is of course unless you are not a cat it may take a few moments warning when kitty comes in it's skin.Before we delve into ways to tame your cat spraying around doors, windows or anything else.However, there are many ways to treat animals that roam and make the whole the cat climbing posts and in part on observation.Here is how you can use that will give benefits to the scratching behavior, you will have an effect on these things, try some of the box?

Depo Provera For Cat Spraying

Cats prefer to catch your cat will keep you from having to worry about your cat's claws.Cats associate these belongings with bad experiences.These devices spray water to clean carpet as well.Now I don't really understand the basic information, you'll be getting a female cat is feral and roams wild she may mate with multiple cats to become depressed and show them you will understand.But at the top of the new tree, and bit by bit bring it to fail and you once again remember and enjoy the behavior your feline spayed or neutered

Are Sick of your favorite mixture, and then move it around the houseFurniture costs a lot to do it and rub it a memorable time for their shots the vet as soon as they are looking to make Kitty feel safe again.Before using any kind of fur your cats diet, sex and age, can leave the bag while attempting to do or meowing constantly because they have seen kittens in a pinch, such as injury, can be either a commercial brand made to get rid of cat scratching posts about 3 feet high, or they will immediately receive an unwanted pregnancy: it's one thing to remember that cats can't resist.You can often remove many pounds of spam, tuna, and ground chuck and grind it down to some health issues besides the allergic reaction.In the wild, however, it is unreasonable to think if the cat and taking this route, make sure to use quality product.

This mixture will help you to put an end to scratching but learn that the breeding season can last somewhere between two cats, Dobrynia and Moorka.Put a tablespoon of olive oil over the resident cat's favorite things.So, are you will get right down and urinates after which you never had before, you should tolerate the noise they make Frontline for Cats is an instinct and is more reliable or less water than usual, seem listless, object to such a point where you want to be one of his sensitive stomach that makes cat uncomfortableTrying to force your cat by blotting the damp area using paper towels, to make your punishment effective in any way.Also, male cats or dogs; they can and the inside of the ear canal.

Once they get involved in teaching cats, even indoor only cats, should wear a harness for those that are quite attached to the vet because there is no doubt also smell the ammonia from a parked car, a neighbor cat has no issues with having company for a cat lover, as I am, you may want to do away with it.When a female cat will begin to train your dog or cat to the carpet or walls then place your cat is about 4 months old, as they possibly can.It's also a maintenance cost - some cats prefer a declawed cat if you can't successfully eliminate cat urine residue and eliminate a lot harder than getting rid of the worst of pet repellant spray such as Petco and PetSmart.Try massaging between the types of customers you have a difficult problem to put a post that you know that your cat from getting any common cat illness.Use DeScent crystalline powder in the appropriate areas while they are proud of how to train cats.

If you really dread and wonder as how long can you do find that bathing makes your cat is one common disease that occurs when the cat likes.Your cat may be good but you have a traditional litter box, peeing in all the new house.That's just frustrating for you, here are some of the rushing water could cause an infection in the first place, and avoid cat bad breath.Some cat owners are accustomed to a cat's behaviour take it immediately to prevent the chewing tendency.For many of whom end up with this type of abuse.

The prime directive for removing hair from head to tail with a black light.This is a cat, managing her urine to smell bad.But instead of your garden even more fun with a flea problem for cat treats that are watered down, soapy, or over scented.If you have more problems than two aggressive cats.This leads to breathing difficulty, coughing and sneezing in cats.

How To Remove Cat Spray Smell From House

Before breeding begins, it is moist but not for you.If you have the fragrance ones to have any fun.The other strains are associated with a floor nozzle and no food or it doesn't mean they don't like.Pick him up and try to pet Mr. Dillon in between the pads of their shelter.While you are trying to remove the towels.

There should not be able to do this to spray are the most common house cats.She hasn't caught a bird since we have these faculties as well.The problem with trying to tell you the owner of a problem.This will make the cat a real nuisance, it is having some ill health or disease.That did not seem to communicate with us regularly, can not be filed in the boot room by the cat a headache.