#also the two winged creatures can happy flap apparently

[canisbeasts-ooc]

https://youtu.be/HCE_lFUMXNg

OFFERING TO THE BEASTS!

pal i have no idea how you did it but you hit on dogs love for energetic architecture and aquatics as well as crows love of mechanics and biology all in one

these two are going to be talking about this for days

thanks ‘.u.’

[bastillewolf]

It’s More About Looks Than Skill (X)

Pairing: Ryuk/Reader

Summary: Ryuk finds himself gaining feelings for Light Yagami’s best friend, but she doesn’t know he exists. When he makes the grave mistake of touching her, he makes things a lot more complicated.

Notes: New year new chapter, but let’s hope I update more frequently than that now lol. Please leave me a kick in the ass so I stop procrastinating, thanks! And also big thank you to the immense support. Love you guys <3

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list! If I wasn’t able to tag you, please check your settings and send me another ask.

Chapter X

She really couldn’t help herself. What sane person wouldn’t start screaming the second they hopped onto a Shinigami’s back and started flying? She clung onto Ryuk’s neck for dear life, her legs wrapped around his middle while his wings flapped them higher and higher until they’d reached a thick level of fluffy clouds with the dark sky above them. There, the wings stopped flapping, and she found herself gliding through the air, her hair being pulled back by the gentle breeze. She realized how harshly she was squeezing Ryuk, and quickly loosened her grip to a point that she was still comfortable she wouldn’t be able to accidentally let go.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured in his ear. It was actually very beautiful, now that she took a good look around her. Below the white, she could see all sorts of lights from the city flickering through, as if they were mirroring the stars above.

“I can take it. I just wasn’t expecting you to scream, is all,” Ryuk replied gently, “I thought you wanted to fly?”

“Y-Yes, I did. It’s just… a lot scarier than it looks. I don’t have wings, so rationally if I let go I would definitely not survive. I think even L could confirm that with percentages and a graph.”

“Rationally I would catch you. I’m heavier, I fall faster than you. You would be saved before you could say ‘Shinigami’.”

She chuckled, “Rationally I wouldn’t count on that. Maybe I don’t trust you. Rationally.”

He turned his head slightly, but she was still unable to see his facial expression from her position on his back. However, it became rather apparent through the sad note in his voice when he spoke. “You don’t trust me?”

She quickly shook her head, “No, I’m sorry Ryuk, that’s not what I meant. I mean that I should rationally not count on you catching me if I fall. I made the decision to hop on your back, thus it is my responsibility to take responsibility for my actions and face the consequences. If I fall, it would be my mistake.”

“Even if it were, I’d still catch you. I’d always catch you.”

She felt a sense of ease wash over her, along with a tingle in her stomach, but she wasn’t quite sure what that meant. She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder, and breathing in a waft of fresh air that dragged along a hint of Light’s cologne. “How come you’re never this nice to Light?”

Ryuk chuckled dryly. “Because he’s not you.”

He felt a blush coat his cheeks when he felt her hands running along the feathers of his wings in a slow, gentle manner. She kept doing this until they’d landed, and then proceeded to latch onto his hand after they’d landed in the back of an alleyway.

Even if you do not actually possess the Death Note, the effect will be the same if you recognize the person and his/her name to place in the blank.

Ryuk was in love. There, he could finally say it. He’d been on a date and now he could say he was in love. He was slightly hunched over so the girl could hold his hand without people noticing at her side, but not for one second did he feel an ache in his back. All he could think about was the way she’d clung onto him, how she’d touched him, how sweet she’d sounded muttering nothings in his ear while she stroked his feathers. Affection wasn’t something that came naturally to him, Shinigami’s never really deemed such thing necessary. Yet with her, he seemed to want to keep her hand in his forever.

Unfortunately, fate seemed to have other plans for him, because she was the one who dropped it like a ton of bricks, along with his heart. Then he noticed the reason for her sudden shift, and it was standing in front of Light’s house. She lightly tugged on the chain that was stuck to the other death note he was carrying and kept her fingers wound tightly around it, but he didn’t mind. If she wanted to take his Death Note, she could go right ahead and do it. That’s how happy he was.

Until he met the bleak pale-yellow eyes of the tall creature hovering above the blonde stranger in front of them.

 ***

“Okay, Ryuk, we need to have a little talk,” Light started. They’d just been at the hotel, where they’d found out the second Kira was willing to do everything Light wanted them to do. They were supposed to set up a meeting place and Light wanted to prepare. She knew a round of questioning was about to begin, so she plopped down onto his bed in an instant.

Ryuk sighed, “Should’ve known.”

“And I’d appreciate an answer if you could,” Light added. “If two Shinigami happened to meet in the human world, are they allowed to speak to each other?”

“Hard to say,” the Shinigami replied. “As long as I’m attached to a human, I’d say it’s against the rules unless I had their permission first. But there are no laws against it either, so I guess it’s possible that another Shinigami might talk to me.”

“So, does that mean that if this fake Kira’s Shinigami were to see you, there’s a chance he might mention the fact that you’re with me and reveal that I’m Kira?”

“They probably wouldn’t, but it depends on their personality.”

“And if this kind of situation did arise I can assume you’ll act the way you normally do?”

“Yeah,” Ryuk said, “Even if I see another human with a Shinigami I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Well, I definitely think you’ve got the right approach.”

“Humph, thanks.”

 ***

“Oops,” he couldn’t help but curse under his breath, recalling the conversation he’d had with Light. He didn’t recognize the Shinigami before them, but if they wanted to, they could directly link Ryuk to the girl that was latching onto him. They might think she was the real Kira.

Though the latest message had already revealed Light’s stunt in the city with the group of people surrounding Ryuk had been a failure and he had been discovered to the fake Kira, there would be no good explanation for him to be hanging around this human.

Luckily for him, the other Shinigami remained deathly silent, until the girl at her side turned.

“Oh, hello there!” she said.

She blinked in response. “Uh… I- Uh… Aren’t you that girl from TV?”

The blonde giggled profusely, suddenly walking up to her as casual as could be. “Yes, I’m Misa, nice to meet you! Do you want an autograph?”

She scratched the back of her head awkwardly, “Uh, no, I think I’m good. Were you looking for Light?”

“Eh?” Ryuk vocalized. He didn’t expect her to be so blunt about it. But then again, he realized, Light had most likely already been discovered. He just didn’t know how she detected that this was the second Kira without being able to see the second Shinigami floating only a few feet away.

“Oh, I was. Are you friends with him?” Misa’s head turned, but her eyes held a sudden blank expression as if her mind were calculating a proper physical response once she’d gotten answers.

“Yeah, for like, my entire life. How do you know him?”

“Oh… I just, I found the notebook he left in class. Then I looked him up online and I thought his resume was very… impressive. I just really wanted to meet him, he seems like such an intelligent guy.”

Ryuk heard the other Shinigami audibly sigh.

“Well, why don’t I introduce the two of you then? I’m sure he’s still up at this hour, and I was just on my way to see him now.”

“S-Sure!” Misa replied hesitantly.

She wished Light’s sister, Sayu, could’ve at the very least toned down her excitement a bit when she met Misa, but alas, she was in awe, as well as the girl’s mother. Light eventually came trotting down the stairs behind them, his neutral facial expression continuing to withstand even as he saw the strange scene before him. He managed to shoo his family members away and closed the front door behind him. She could’ve sworn she hadn’t heard crickets chirping before that.

“Uhm, pleased to meet you,” Misa started, sinking to her knees in a bow, “I’m Misa Amane.” She then glanced at you, and back at Light again.

Ryuk chuckled until he heard the other God of Death say, “Misa, the girl is being followed by another Shinigami. I doubt she isn’t aware of it.”

Misa made a noise of understanding, before looking at the odd placement of your hand which was still wrapped around Ryuk’s chain. “I thought you might get worried if you saw that message on TV. I just couldn’t take it anymore so I brought… this notebook.” She held out an identical copy of his Death Note in front of Light, and Ryuk heard the girl next to him audibly groan. Of course, the girl had no issue showing something like that out in the open. It was like she had no idea.

Light touched it, yet he made no sound. “Does she know? About all of it?” Misa questioned, directedly pointing her gaze at his best friend. Light nodded, so she was allowed to touch it as well. She very much tried, but unfortunately, her poker face wasn’t as good as Light’s, so she ended up with her mouth slightly agape. Ryuk lifted a finger to close it.

They decided it would be best to move the conversation inside, so they did, and Light had cautiously locked his bedroom door behind them after making sure his mother and sister thought this was just a nice drop-by from his (girl)friend.

“Have a seat.”

As Misa sat in Light’s desk chair, his best friend scooted onto the mattress behind him with Ryuk towering over them at the bedside. Her Shinigami, a pale skeleton with yellow eyes and purple hair and what appeared to be vampiric teeth, stood guard behind Misa.

“How did you find me?” Light decided to ask.

She answered with a gasp, “I knew it! You never made the Shinigami-eye deal. When you have the Shinigami-eyes like I do, you can see most people’s name and lifespan just by looking at them. However, you can’t see the lifespan of any person who possesses a Death Note.”

Light glanced over at Ryuk, looking for an explanation, but Ryuk seemed just as shocked. “No kidding! I have to admit, even I wasn’t aware of that little detail.”

“Well, now you’ve managed to find me, but you were careless; what if you’d been caught by the police? Then they’d know everything about Kira!”

“It’s all right,” Misa said, “Because the police didn’t catch me and if I do as you say from now on, they’ll never be able to. So we’re safe. After all, don’t you need someone to see L’s name? If you want, I could be your eyes. So…”

“Yeah? So what?”

“-Would you please make me your girlfriend?”

Both Ryuk and the girl behind him burst out laughing, but he decidedly ignored them. He then proceeded to question her about her strategy in the city, as well as the evidence she could’ve left behind. She ended up even offering her Death Note to him, and while she’d still be the rightful owner, Light would be in control of it, and she of her Shinigami-eyes.

“-And if I become a burden to you, you can just kill me, okay?” Misa said pleadingly.

“But you might’ve removed several pages from your Death Note, you could be hiding them somewhere for all I know!”

“Why are you so suspicious of me?” she cried out, getting up from the chair and stomping her foot on the floor, “I already told you, I don’t care even if all you do is use me! Please believe me!”

“Why are you so willing to give up your life for him?” (Y/N) asked, and Light had to admit, that was the question he’d been building towards this entire time.

“Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to understand-“ Misa spat.

“Hey,” Light barked, “If you want to show your loyalty, how about you start being nicer to the only person I’ve trusted with my secret so far and has kept it?”

“How can you be so sure you can trust her?! I bet she’s only in it so she can take it from you after you’re dead, so she can become the new Kira!”

“How dare you!” (Y/N) snarled warningly, but Misa was already launching herself at the girl.

Light hadn’t quite seen that coming. Thankfully, Ryuk had. He took the blonde girl by her arm and lifted her until her feet didn’t touch the floor anymore and she’d let out a startled scream. He noticed the other Shinigami wanted to step in already, but Light was faster. “Misa, if you and I were to work together, I need to know you can make rational decisions without letting your emotions get the better of you. Can you do that?”

She didn’t really look at him, so he decided to repeat himself, this time a bit more convincingly, “If you were to be my girlfriend, I need to know if you can tolerate being around my best friend.”

At this, she lit up, and Ryuk was quick to let go of her.

When she’d finally left, the girl he’d just been on a date with was now slung around his neck, having climbed on top of the bed to be able to reach him. His large hands grasped her sides, and his smile had grown even wider.

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[panic-based-riot]

Gilded Chapter 2

Fandom: Inheritance Cycle 

Paring: Murtagh x OC, Eragon x OC, Love Triangle 

Warnings: None

Part 2/??

Ilirea woke to the sound of distressed chirping. She sat up on her bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she looked around her home, searching for the high pitched sound. As it grew louder and more upset Ilirea turned her gaze to the small nest of blankets that held the egg. Or rather, used to hold the egg. In its place now sat a tiny dragon, chirping as it tried in vain to get a fragment of shell off its head. Moving slowly so as not to startle the small creature, Ilirea crawled over to it and gently grabbed the fragment. She smiled as she lifted  it off the baby dragon’s head. The chirping stopped, and it tilted its head to gaze at her curiously. 

A single happy chirp came from the creature, and Ilirea couldn’t help but stare in wonder. The tiny dragon was a brilliant yellow from head to tail, the underside of it a deep amber. As she stared, the dragon stared back, tilting its head as if trying to understand her. Then it reached out with its head, and she scrambled backwards. 

“No, you can’t bond with me. I’m taking you to the Queen.” 

The dragon chirped again, and lunged forward even as Ilirea lifted her hands to keep it away. The tip of the yellow nose hit her right palm and a white hot sensation ran up her arm, burning into her mind. She gasped as a bright silver light shone at the point of contact and something made contact with her mind, something powerful and ancient. 

The light faded, except for a dull glow from the oval shaped irregular patch of silver now in the center of Ilirea’s palm. She closed her hand around it and pulled back, staring in awe at the dragon as she trembled. 

Hungry

The thought, more of a feeling, drifted across her mind and she flinched. She didn’t want to be a dragon rider. She wasn’t supposed to be anything extraordinary at all, just a mistake in a small town. 

“Why? Why did you choose me?” 

She stared at the dragon, expecting an answer, but all that came was the sensation of hunger. She stood, still trembling, and moved to her small kitchen to grab the few scraps of meat that she had. She placed them on the floor by the dragon and it ate them quickly. 

A sense of gratitude flowed over Ilirea, and she sat back down on her bed, staring at the tiny yellow dragon. It chirped, looking back, and she sighed. “Well, now we definitely have to get to the queen. But how am I supposed to get you out of here? I can't just walk through town with a baby dragon on my shoulder.” 

The tiny thing wandered over to where her skirts from the day lay in a heap and it nosed at it before climbing into the pocket that she had carried the egg home in. It curled into it and let out a soft sound almost like purring. 

“Well, I guess that works.” 

Sparing a glance out the window, Ilirea gazed at the night outside. “I need to sleep more, we leave in the morning.” She lay down and curled into a ball, and the tiny dragon poked its head out of her skirts. It chirped twice, then skittered over the wood floor towards her and hopped up onto the small bed. While humming the same pitch the egg had earlier that day, the small creature circled twice before settling in the space next to her stomach. It purred and rested its head on its forelegs and the two fell asleep. 

Morning came with soft rays of warm sunshine as the sunlight fell on Ilirea’s face. The sound of soft chirping reached her as she opened her eyes and she saw the tiny dragon standing on her pillow, chirping. 

Hungry. Go, travel? 

The impressions of a rumbling tummy and trees passing overhead pulled Ilirea out of her bed. “Alright, let me get dressed.”

She quickly pulled on a new overdress and stays, tightened them, and looped her overskirt through her skirt hike again. From the same belt she also hung a small pouch of coins and a silver leaf-bladed dagger in its gold-tipped sheath, the only inheritance from the father she had never known. The tiny dragon half jumped, half flew over to where Ilirea stood, and it chirped thrice. With a smile, Ilirea bent over and scooped up the small creature and placed it into the pocket she had created. 

It poked its tiny head out, watching as Ilirea wandered around the house gathering things into a pack at the center of the room. She placed a blanket, a spare skirt, and a pair of tight trousers into it along with a hairbrush. She gathered up the blanket that the dragon had hatched in and tossed the yellow shell fragments into the fireplace, hoping to hide them. She wandered about the house a few more minutes before she gathered up the pack and looked down at the tiny dragon. 

“Well, are you ready?” 

The dragon seemed to smile and a sense of eagerness flowed through Ilirea’s mind.

 She smiled in return, “Alright then.” She reached for the door handle, but paused. All she’d ever known was this house and this village. Beyond that everything was unknown. She glanced down at the tiny dragon, now curled around itself in her pocket, and let out a sharp breath. 

The door opened to a quiet street, only a few people milled about as she closed the door to her home for the last time. Ilirea brushed her white blonde hair out of her eyes and froze as her fingers danced over the pointed tips of her ears. She quickly pulled her hair back down to cover it and moved as quickly as she could to the market. 

Along the way she smiled at a few friends, people she had known her whole life, and waved as if it were another regular day. At the market she bought a few strips of dried meat, three loaves of bread, and a new scarf, in case she were to encounter another village along her travels. As she was leaving, she passed a small stand that sold maps. 

The gentleman selling them smiled, the long scar on his balding head shining, “You seem to be off on a journey, surely you need a map to guide you?” 

Ilirea hesitated, then purchased a map of Alagaesia, stuffing it into her pack. “Thank you, sir. I’ve not seen you around this market before, may I inquire after your name?” 

He laughed, “You may, but I fear it will garner you no answers. You may call me simply Longshanks.” 

She smiled, “Well I thank you kindly, Master Longshanks. This will be helpful in my travels.” She lifted her hand in farewell, and the mapmaker’s smile fell. He reached out and gripped her wrist, tugging her forward. 

He turned her hand to show the silver brand on her palm, and Ilirea felt the tiny dragon stir in her pocket. 

“You would do well to hide this, Elf-child Dragon Rider. There are many who would take less than kindly to you walking brazenly in their midst.” 

Ilirea pulled her hand back, closing a fist around the mark and reached up with her other hand to make sure her pointed ears were still covered. “How did you-”

“The gedwëy ignasia is the most telling sign of a rider, young one. Hide it, and hide it well until you reach your destination.” Longshanks smiled.

“Thank you. I will. How do you know so much?” Ilirea nodded.

Longshanks simply winked and leaned back in his chair, speaking no more. Ilirea waited a moment, and when it became apparent that the merchant would share no more, she left, keeping her right hand close to her, hiding the Gedwëy Ignasia. She walked quickly through town into the dense green forest she knew so well and stopped only when she was far enough away to not be heard. 

Once she was deep into the forest, she knelt and lifted the tiny dragon from her pocket. She also unshouldered her pack, dropping a few of the meat strips on the ground for the dragon. She unrolled the map, looking over it. She had never been more grateful that her mother saw fit to teach her to read. The dragon gulped down the last of the meat strips and placed its front paws on the map, looking at it with Ilirea. 

“Ok, the capitol is here,” She placed a finger on Ilirea, the newly renamed capitol that shared her name, formerly Uru'Baen,  “all the way across the desert. But if we go this way,” She traced a finger along the edge of Du Weldenvarden and down through Lake Isentar and the Ramir River. “Then we can avoid the desert, and most cities except for Bullridge, until we get to Ilirea.” 

The dragon hummed, and Ilirea looked down at it, “I don’t know how fast you grow, but this is going to be a long trip. I’m talking months, so I hope you know how to hunt already. I can't buy us both food for that long.” The dragon looked up at her, its golden eyes blinking, and Ilirea sighed. 

“I suppose I should also give you a name. But I don’t know if you are a boy or a girl.” She looked at the slender dragon and mentally compared it to the other dragon’s she had seen. It seemed to fit the proportions of Saphira more than Firnen, at least from what she had seen from them both flying overhead, for Firnen was far stockier. “Are you a girl?” The dragon hummed excitedly, twitching its, or rather her, tail. 

Ilirea studied the tiny dragon, looking over her pretty yellow and amber scales. “What about Amber?” The tiny dragon snorted, looking almost affronted at the thought. “Ok, well…” She trailed off, thinking of an old word in an old human language that her mother had taught her. 

“Do you like Halcyon? It means golden.”

She flapped her wings and crowed, nudging Ilirea. 

“Ok, Halcyon it is then.'' She rolled up the map, placing it back in her pack, and shouldered it. She also grabbed a large handful of moist soil and rubbed it into her right palm, concealing her Gedwëy Ignasia. As she stood she held out an arm for Halcyon and she raced up Ilirea’s arm, sitting on her shoulder. She nuzzled her face, humming, and settled as Ilirea started walking away from Ceris, deeper into the forest.

Taglist:  @raiikuiii @gilded-moon @thebluemoonwolf @overlordspirit18 @nightsshadow1 

[jimlingss]

Worshipers of the Stars

Part of the Worshipers Series

➜ Words: 9.4k

➜ Genres: 90% Angst, 10% Fluff, God!AU

➜ Summary: The universe was created with four gods to rule and watch over it. But when you take the crown and become the god of all gods, what the future holds is something you never wanted to know.

The universe was once created by a woman who was awoken by her lonesome — a miracle in itself. It was an explosion that happened suddenly when all the things were slotted in the right places at the right time, a one in a billion chance encounter. But it happened and she was the first of her kind to open her eyes.   She had awareness and recognition of the empty oblivion in front of her, so in an attempt to lessen her loneliness, she created a home — a sanctuary that could watch over all other places, a Heaven. And in that Heaven, she created the gods to keep her company and care for the things she made once she passes.   First, she made Seokjin, God of the Sun.   “That’s me!” the god exclaims with cherub cheeks and bright eyes, stirring in the woman’s arms as she reads from her large storybook.   “That’s right,” she confirms with a matronly smile that exudes warmth in itself. “The one who helps nourish the living realm, who helps count the days that pass so that no one takes it for granted, that spreads the light for all to see. Also the one who is mischievous and likes to make trouble when no one’s watching.”   “I don’t make that much trouble,” the child whines with a pout, making the woman laugh heartily.   “Shush, Jin! Let her keep reading the story!”   “Fine.”   The woman continues on as her children gather closer together. “Then, the woman created Miyin, the Goddess of Dreams, to ensure her children would be able to rest well when they could, so they would not have to be restless and could have a place of peace in the chaos of the universe.”    The girl in question giggles when her name is mentioned, blushing from the attention bestowed upon her. The Creator softly smiles and affectionately brushes the long strands of her dark hair away from her face before she continues reading. “With her and to help light the night when The God of Sun is asleep and unable to protect those below, the God of the Moon, Yoongi was born. He who sheds light in the darkness, to help lead those astray back to their homes…”   She turns to the boy sitting across from her, a quiet expression but thoughtful underneath those cat-like eyes, and her smile only grows.   “What next? What next?!” Miyin rushes, unable to handle the suspense despite having heard this same story for years now.   “Be patient,” you murmur.   “Then, the most important god was created.” Her voice drops into a whisper, “Y/N, Goddess of Light and Life. The source of the God of Sun and Moon’s power. The force that makes the Goddess of Dreams’ dreams come alive. The mirror of the creator, the Ruler of all Rulers, the God of all. She would someday create more gods and help the world become a prettier, better place.”   This was your favourite part of the story. You loved to see the painted pictures on your page and know that you get to protect everyone else. It was an important job, one that you’re excited for, but Jin would say that it was your favourite part because it talked about you….   And that’s only a little true.   “Together, the four of them would be trusted to rule. They would live forever to look after the universe that was created by the woman who was no longer so lonely…”   “Live forever?” Seokjin pipes up, probably because he knows the story is ending and is trying to buy more time so he doesn’t have to sleep. Jin lolls his head back to your shoulder, looking up at the woman with the fond gaze. “Won’t that get boring?”   “Well, you’ll be reborn every once in a while, so you can start fresh and learn the meaning of what time is. Being able to die makes you learn what death is. And being reborn means you won’t take things for granted. Everyone must die someday, even I have to. Gods are no exception.”   “Then...when will we die?” you ask, blinking up at her.   “Not for a very long time,” she assures in a murmur, caressing your hair. Then she exhales and sits up straighter. “Alright, time for bed everyone! Everyone has to sleep too! No time like the present!”    “Awww,” Miyin whimpers and pouts. “Do I have to?! I’m not even tired!”   “Someday, you will wish you get to sleep as much as you do now.” The Creator peels back the covers of the bed as the sky becomes darkened, sun long fallen from the horizon — something Jin does each day before story time.   “What about Yoongi?” Miyin continues to sulk despite getting in right in the middle of you and Seokjin, three lumps inside the wool blanket and against the pillows. “He just woke up! That’s not fair!”   “He has to sleep too. Just at a different time,” she says gently and Miyin relents.   The Creator kisses the top of all your heads, wishing you a good night and she walks hand-in-hand with Yoongi, leaving the room and shutting the door.   Despite Miyin’s protests, she’s snoring within the next minute. While Seokjin tries to resist the urge of slumber with you, afraid that Miyin will mess with his dreams again and make him lift a bright pink sun, he, too, soon succumbs to the urge.   You, on the other hand, are still wide awake.   Your eyes pin out the glass windows and terrace doors, watching the silver moon slowly lift up and how its milky luminescence billows into the room. It lights up the entire world in the darkness.   If there was something that you liked more than your part in the storybook, it was the moon.   Quietly, you crawl out of the covers, away from Seokjin and Miyin who don’t even stir. Once your feet touch the soft carpet of the bedroom, you’re already creeping outside, shutting the door silently.   As you swiftly run along, your shadow follows you along the corridor walls. You know where he is, where he sits as he keeps the moon on the horizon. He could always leave, do other things like Jin does once the sun is already risen, but Yoongi once told you that there was nothing to do in the middle of the night, so that’s why he just sits in one spot, staring and waiting....   You sneak around the pillars of the palace, feet cold on the terrace floors, but you peek around the corner to see Yoongi bathed in the soft light. He’s glowing, skin luminous and shining. It’s moments like these you’re amazed at how pretty he is. Or what’s the word that the Creator once used? That word she used to describe the four of you…..beautiful.    You’re unable to stare at Yoongi for long. Not when a little moth lands on your nose.   It’s tiny, brown wings flapping and fluttering, tickling against your skin as if it were trying to kiss you. And you giggle, watching it float around your head and unable to be caught no matter how many times you jump and try to catch the creature in your hands—   “You’re supposed to be in bed.”   There’s a low timbre that vibrates in your ear and a grin spreads into your face.    Oops. You’ve been caught.   “Are you going to tell on me?” You approach with your arms behind your back, knowing full well that Yoongi would never. Seokjin and Miyin would be happy to get you in trouble, but never Yoongi. “I just wanted to keep you company. You’re lonely, right?”   “No, I’m not,” he murmurs and looks away.   You plop down beside him on the cold tile floor, shoulders and knees brushing, and you look out at the moon together.   It made you sad that you don’t get to play with Yoongi much. The only times you get to see him are two hours after dawn and two hours after dusk — right before he goes to bed and right after he’s woken up and it’s your turn to sleep.    You wish you got to spend more time with Yoongi or was awake when he was. Sometimes you wonder if he’s sad that everyone else is asleep. You’d be sad if you were him, if you didn’t have Jin or Miyin with you. Yoongi might be quieter than they are, but you like him more.    You like him the best.   “It’s pretty,” you whisper as you stare at the light with the pretty patterns, putting your head on his shoulder and feeling a bit sleepy.   The corner of Yoongi’s mouth pulls into a smile. “It’s because of you.”   “That’s not true. I need you to lift it. That’s the only way I can make it shine. Without you, there would be no moon, Yoongi.”   It’s the moon that you could look at — it doesn’t burn your eyes like the sun does. The moon is simpler, quieter than the blazing sunlight — but you think it deserves just as much recognition, if not more. And it’s a little different every time you look at it. You love the moon.   You love Yoongi.   “You do?” he asks after you tell him all the things you love about the moon, leaving out the last little part about loving him.    You told Miyin, Jin and the Creator you love them all the time. You’ve even told Yoongi before. But somehow, telling Yoongi when it’s just you and him here feels a bit different.   “Yeah! The sun’s always the same and it hurts to look at.” You quickly add, “Don’t tell Jin that.”   Yoongi giggles and turns to look at you resting on his shoulder. “I can change it, if you’d like.” Your eyes widen, head lifting and the Child of the Moon blinks several times towards the horizon.    Suddenly, the giant sphere in front of you shifts and morphs. The luminescence is almost blinding and the moonlight wash alters, becoming golden rather than milky and pale.   You gasp, sitting straight, wide awake again. “It looks like the sun now!”   A giant, gummy grin spreads into Yoongi’s face and he laughs at the way your jaw has dropped in amazement. In front of the two of you, the moon shines even brighter. It sparkles in the night.   //   The life you’ve lived so far is short — especially if the Creator tells you that you’re going to be reborn forever. And apparently forever is a really long time. But right now, you’re really happy to know what you’re supposed to do in this chaotic universe.    You’ve learnt that there are so many things, so many people you want to protect and it makes you’re glad that you have the power to. That one day you’re going to watch over everyone else. When that time comes, you’re going to make sure no one hurts Jin or Miyin or Yoongi.   You’ll do your best.   “And that’s all that’s important,” the Creator tells you as the two of you walk alongside each other down the hall. Her robes sweep the floor and you wonder if one day you will be as pretty and liked. “Someday you will rule all of Heaven and the universe and guide the other gods into a beautiful world.”   “You will also create many more gods and goddesses,” she hums. “Perhaps a Goddess of the Sky.”   Your brows furrow and your lips become lopsided. “What’s a sky?”   “Why, a place where Seokjin can truly shine and help the people that will be below.” The woman smiles as her mind begins to conjure up new ideas, and you wonder if someday you will be able to be as creative as she is. “Perhaps a God for the Seasons, so the Earth may prosper, change, and alter to keep them from being bored. We should also give them more water too, so they have a way to quench their thirst. And maybe a God of the Underworld, so once people pass, they have a place of peace to stay at.”   She sighs wistfully. “There are many gods yet to be created. Too little time for me.”   You look up at her, feeling scared at the thought of her gone. “What happens when I don’t know what to do or who to make?”   “You will know,” she tells you with such assurance. It comforts your worries and eases your fear. “When the time comes, you will know. And Seokjin, Miyin and Yoongi will always be at your side to help.”   “Always?”   “Always.” She smiles and stops, crouching down to delicately push a strand of hair behind your ear. “Someday, Miyin will accompany your side. Your right hand will be Seokjin, and Yoongi will be your husband. It is my plan and I plan to never leave you by your lonesome as I had been.”   At your young age, you don’t truly understand what each word means, but you can comprehend the feeling of warmth she conveys. A smile spreads into your face and you nod.   Right then and there, there is a sharp call of your name.   You whirl your head over to see the three of them at the end of the hall, Seokjin waving you over with Miyin calling you again to come play with them. Yoongi stands by them, wearing the brightest of grins and it makes the inside of your chest tickle.   You glance over your shoulder and the Creator gestures the permission you need to run off.    She watches with a smile as the four of you sprint, giggles filling the spaces of Heaven. Her optimism and certainty of a beautiful world relieves the burden of her own worries. She feels at peace, knowing that you will take care of her creations.

When the world was built, four gods were made with it. They were contrived to watch over the lands and protect one another, and for the first two decades of their first lifetime, the universe was truly wonderful. It was simple, happiness spreading across the world with the innocence of the gods untainted. They had yet to learn about greed and pride, wrath and envy.   Yet it was not a golden age — not when many gods were yet to be born, when Heaven was still empty and merely a foundation of what it was to become. But it was paradise. A dreamland.   Only, dreams never lasted long.

There had been a shift, a change.   One you knew you didn’t feel alone. The sunlight dimmed and then the moon was lifting, covering it completely — something you would one day learn to know as a solar eclipse. But it was the first time in history that the horizon was blackened during day, where you felt the light within you tremble and the universe bled with darkness. The fabric of the world was being swept from underneath you, consciousness vibrating around your mind.    Time was finally running out.   “What’s going on?!” Miyin’s footsteps quicken down the hall, her robes hanging loose from her frame and fluttering behind her. There was a thin ring of light from outside, an outline of where the sun wasn’t covered by the moon, but it barely provided any light.    “It’s happening,” you tell her, forming an orb of light within your hands and flicking them towards the candles on the walls. They flare and gleam, dimmer than you’ve ever seen. “Get Yoongi and Seokjin.”   “I’m already here.”    The husky voice you’ve been waiting for sounds behind you and you find the young god already striding over with a firm gaze. His orbs are glazed over in the colour of obsidian, fluffy strands contrasting against his sharp features, cat-like eyes staring back at yours. His black robes swish behind him along with your servant girl at his heels, fear taking hold of her expression.   “I didn’t lift the moon,” he says.   You nod. “I know.”   The two of you immediately turn down the hall towards the largest room while Miyin sprints in the other direction to call Seokjin. You dismiss the young servant girl and she takes a bow, staying behind when this was a matter pertaining to the gods alone.   Once you push the doors open, you find the Creator lying in her bed. The covers are pushed to her waist as she lays with her head on her pillow, eyes barely open.    Immediately, you rush to her side and grab hold of her hand. “You are unwell.”   “I have been unwell for a while, child,” she wheezes with heavy breath, clasping your hand back in a weak grasp. Yet, the corner of her mouth still lifts. Her hair had gotten gray, colour lost in her features, wrinkles lined around her face. In your naiveté, you had not paid attention to these things, not when it was so gradual. “My ti..me is end...ing….”   “There must be something we can do.”   The doors slam open and the room fills with immediate warmth. But Seokjin’s hair isn’t as vibrantly gold as what you’re used to seeing. It doesn’t glisten and his pink lips are losing its hue.   “There has to be something you can do,” Seokjin declares in distress as Miyin quickly follows behind him and shuts the doors. “You are the Goddess of Light and Life—”   “I know what I am,” you snap back at him. “You need not remind me.”    “Is there something you can do?” A calm voice cuts through the panic and you find Yoongi seated next to the Creator, placing a hand on her shoulder to perhaps comfort her.   “I can feel her life force leaving her. I might be able to gather it and contain it with her being again, but I don’t know how much time that’ll give.”   “It’s still better than nothing,” Miyin cries out, but then suddenly the Creator shakes her head and the four of you quiet down to listen to her croaking murmurs.   “N...o...don’t do that and don’t argue.”   Miyin sobs, her tears streaking down her face. “But—”   “Death is inevitable. I provide nothing for you now and if I lived another day, I would provide nothing then. My time….is over.” She looks over to each of you gathered around her, the gods she had manifested carefully and a soft smile graces her features. “You are all grown and ….will...survive….this world will...prosper...I feel comforted over that.”    Her chest heaves and she gasps shallowly. “Y/N’s...coronation will happen tomorrow—”   “No,” you spit, unable to bear the thought of ruling over Heaven immediately after her death without mourning beforehand. “I can’t do something like that.”   “You will,” she whispers in reassurance. “You will do as I say. Heaven...cannot be without a ruler….and Yoongi…”   “Yes?” He comes closer as her gaze flickers over to him.   “You will marry...Y/N...Seokjin will become the...right hand...and Miyin by her side….it is my plan,” she says, the dying wish put on her lips — one she had spoken about many times. But you know this is the last.    The Goddess of Dreams beside you begins to sob harder, Seokjin looking away and unable to bear the moment. Yoongi remains in his place and your hand on her tightens, feeling her life fading.    The Creator smiles for the final time. “I...harbour no...regrets…”   You can see it — her soul is white. It shimmers, brighter than what you’ve ever witnessed before. More so than the sun itself or what you’ve ever manifested in your hands. It fills the room, blinding your eyes and you know you’re the only one who can see it.    It floats as choked sobs break through your throat, her hand slipping out of yours. Around you, Seokjin’s warmth ceases, Yoongi’s skin doesn’t shine and Miyin’s wailing becomes deafening.   Then her soul fades above her body. You don’t try to grab it — don’t try anything that was against her last will. You watch as it dissolves, vanishing after a moment like it was never there.    Suddenly, a force brushes against your cheeks, kissing through your hair and robes, like a breeze manifested from nowhere. It swells throughout the universe.   Seokjin’s warmth returns, his hair golden once more and lips pink. Yoongi’s skin shines again and the moon on the horizon falls, allowing the sunlight to spread across the lands once more. Your own strength restores itself, but what you’re still left with is devastation and grief.   Miyin sobs within her hands. Yoongi slumps and Seokjin cries with you.   It will never be the same again — and that knowledge lay heavy on your shoulders.   //   The sun has fallen early today, an hour or so, and you cannot blame Seokjin. But that meant Yoongi had to lift the moon over the horizon earlier.    You stare out your glass window to find the moon smaller than usual, dimmer than what you’ve always known to be a bright glow. Perhaps some nights, the moon might not be needed outside — it will have to be something you discuss with Yoongi after your coronation tomorrow.   “Your Highness, be at ease. The Creator always said she was happy,” your servant says as she gently brushes through your hair at the vanity. She is pretty, long hair and soft smile, even with her eyes and nose reddened from crying. She has been at your side for years now, to aid you in small matters, but she has always proven helpful and her sincerity is touching.   Despite being innocent and young, her tender nurturing reminds you of the Creator.   “Yes, she did.” You manage a smile, finding appreciation in her attempts to console you. “Don’t worry. I won’t grieve for long. There are many things that need to be done and I out of all the gods must remain strong. I must protect them now.”   You stand on your feet and she follows you, helping you untuck the covers of your bed. “Are you worried about your coronation tomorrow?” she asks in a murmur.   You hesitate, not sure if honesty is warranted.    But you decide not to confide in her. You must remain steadfast and firm. You are to become the god of all gods, rulers of all rulers. There should not be a weakness within you. The foundation of the world lies in your hands and you must be strong if you are to allow this universe to prosper.   “Nonsense. This is my purpose. My responsibility. Why would I fear something that I was created for.”   She nods and bows her head once you’ve gotten settled. “You are wise and courageous, Your Highness. Forgive me for suggesting otherwise. Is there anything else you would like from me?”   You are about to dismiss her, but then your eyes stray out the windows. There is a pull within you, a childlike urge to go see Yoongi and keep him company. But you are exhausted, grieving, and unlike your words, you do not have the strength to find him.   Yet, you cannot bear the thought of Yoongi being alone on the cold terrace.    “Please, go see the God of the Moon. Make sure….he is well. Keep him company.”   “I understand.” She dips her head again, a promise to obey your word.   Then you are left in silence, succumbing to a moment of peace through slumber with the terror of what it means to wear the crown of Heaven. And in your sleep, you are ignorant to how the moon begins to glimmer moments later and becomes that much brighter.   //   The preparations are finished. It was faster than you had thought was possible and now the moment has arrived. The servants and advisors are gathered in the throne room, waiting patiently for your arrival. But you linger at the entrance, unable to garner the courage that is needed to step forward.   “You look stunning.”   You turn around, grabbing fistfuls of your golden and white layered robes that ruffle out with sparkles that catch the sunlight high on the horizon. Your hair is fixed into place by tens of pins at the back of your hair, but still spilled over into curls. “I look better than usual, don’t I?”   “You don’t look bad on the usual day.” Yoongi smiles softly, sleepiness hinted in his features.   He’s dressed in black robes that fades into a milky shade at the hem that reminds you of the moon’s luminescence itself. His black hair is ruffled, shagging over his forehead. As dignified as the two of you look, it’s still a bittersweet moment knowing that this attire is only worn on such an occasion.    You grin, lifting your arms with much effort. The sleeves drag with every movement. “It’s heavy.”   “The ceremony won’t last long,” he promises and his voice quiets, expression becoming more solemn. “Are you nervous?”   “Why would I be?” Your chin lifts and your back straightens. “I’m the Great Goddess of Light and Life. This is my sole purpose and all I’ve ever wanted.”   But instead of the respect that you expect to gain, Yoongi is visibly amused. He’s silent and you quirk a brow until he finally murmurs— “You know you don’t have to lie to me.”   Part of you wants to object to his claim. A Goddess like you doesn’t need to make up lies to feign bravery, but he knows you too well for you to scrape by with yet another fib. The pair of you have been together your entire lives after all.   So you concede, allowing him into your mind. “None of us have had time to grieve yet. I…..don’t know what to do, Yoongi.”    “I don’t know how to guide and protect everyone and rule this place. The Creator had a plan for us, but I don’t know how to follow through with it.” You turn around, unable to bear looking at his expression if it will be one of disappointment. Of all gods, you were the one who was supposed to know what to do next. You are what everyone looks to. But you are utterly lost.   “You will.” A tender hand squeezes comfortingly at your shoulder and you twirl around to meet Yoongi’s earnest gaze searching yours. “We’ll be there with you, Y/N. Seokjin, Miyin and I. You aren’t alone.”   “I know.” If there was one thing you were glad for, it was the fact that you aren’t by yourself and Yoongi being here at this moment was proof of that. “Thank you.”   You take his arm and the God of the Moon guides you to the throne room. The two of you walk together and when the servants catch sight of you, they dip their heads and open the doors.   The room is decorated for celebration, golden ribbons wrapping the marble pillars and the carpet beneath your feet rolled out. The servants are gathered together, reverent in their posture while the advisor of the late Creator, an old dwarf, is in the middle.    Seokjin smiles, standing on the right side of the throne in his own golden robes and his hands folded together. Miyin is to the left, the corner of her reddened lips gently quirked at the sight of you and her brother. Rather than the rowdiness that filled the palace when the four of you were still children, the ceremony is silent, many faces watching and staring at you.   You keep your head held high, eyes pinned forward, breath steady in your chest. This is what you’ve practiced for, what your sole purpose is. It is your right and your responsibility. You will serve and protect until the end of eternity itself. This universe will prosper till its dawn.   Yoongi lets you go once you’ve made it to the end of the path and he moves beside his sister while you kneel. All the other servants follow suit, bowing as you are.   It will be the only time a god ever kneels.   “Goddess of Light and Life, mirror of the Creator who stitched this universe together and created the Sun and the Moon. Y/N, the very source of our birth and warmth, you have come today to accept the throne, to become the god among all gods, the queen among all queens, ruler of all rulers. You will protect everything beneath and above Heaven, and watch over the sinners and blessed. Do you swear to take this oath?”   “I swear.”   The old dwarf continues reading from the scroll. “Will you solemnly promise to never abandon your people and to the utmost of your power maintain the strength and foundation of Heaven?”   “I solemnly promise to do so.”   “Then with this power, you will be blessed with the gifts of clairvoyance and precognition,” he reads. It is the last present the Creator has given to you, one you had not expected. “You will take these endowments to become the carrier of all knowledge, to know past, present, and future. You will know all, what has become and what will become. Do you vow to take this and use the knowledge for your best judgment in the protection of all living creations?”   “I vow to do so.”   “Then stand and accept your place in this chaotic universe.”   You rise to your feet, glancing at Yoongi who smiles warmly.   A breath leaves your lungs and you approach the throne, swiftly turning and brushing out your robes. You take a seat and grasp the armrests — the chair is colder than you expected, but you don’t dwell.    You’re close. One second more and the ceremony will be over.   The aged dwarf approaches with the crown, dainty and golden. It is simple, but brightly shimmers like the sunlight yet somehow softly glows like the moonlight too. He smiles and you take it from his hands to place on your own head.   And the moment it lays there, when the metal finds its place on top of your crown, the crowd erupt into cheers and song, rejoicing for their benevolent leader.   But you do not hear them.   Your eyes become blinded. Your breath hitches.    The gifts of clairvoyance and precognition strikes you, rendering you breathless.   Fire. You can see fire, hear the shrieks of mortals crying out for their families and loved ones. It is deafening — the screams of men beseeching mercy, only to be slaughtered, the sobbing of children who have their mothers assaulted in front of them. It is overwhelming. The intense smell of iron, the scent of blood. The burnt land that you stand in, the homes reduced to ash, the gray clouds covering the sun and sky and bring upon the darkness you cannot dispel away.   “No, please, let me go!” — “Stop!” — “Mommy! Where are you?!”   You see a boy’s head decapitated, another relishing in the death. A baby that cries until it’s silenced when a spear punctures through them. Lovers ripped apart and mutilated.   The wonderful world you have sworn to protect — the green grass and flowers, rivers and rolling hills, the laughter and giggles. It doesn’t exist. You have failed. And there is nothing that can change it.   The world is on fire.   You see more flashes — within one millisecond, you have known past, present, and future. You see a paradise of smiles and warmth. But you also see an empty Heaven, a desolate place that has become darkened with gods who have abandoned their people. You see the people at peace and prosperity, but also see ruin and cruelty, those who are vicious without remorse.   And you see an explosion. A man’s irises glazed over in the colour of obsidian, his skin bathed in the milky moonlight and making him glow. Specks of shimmer all around him as he wears an expression of guilt and pity that aches your heart.   You cry aloud.   Seokjin, Yoongi and Miyin at once turn at the sound and they witness you fall off your throne.   //   There’s a roaring crash.    The servant girl pulls herself away from the God of the Moon once she hears the commotion, her eyes swimming with surprise and worry. The god is also alarmed and the two of them don’t hesitate to rush down the hall, pushing your doors open.   “Y-Your Majesty!” Your servant cries out, running towards you, but you shove her away and she winces when the back of her head slams against the wall. Yoongi grabs hold of her, making sure she is uninjured, and you pay no mind to the pair of them.   Objects on your vanity are shoved to the floor with the sweep of your arms, the chair thrown over on the ground, your bedroom is wrecked as you pull on the curtains.   “Don’t touch me!” you scream wildly at the top of your lungs. “Get out! I don’t want to see you!”   “Get out!” you repeat when they remain there, blood-curdling at the back of your throat.   You never once look at Yoongi in the eyes.   Fire. Destruction. Crashing and burning.   “What’s going on?!” A stern voice calls out at the ruckus. Miyin stands at the doorway motionlessly, eyes laying on how you’re losing your mind and she watches in horror.   An explosion. Splotches in the night horizon that glitter and gleam. A love never returned.   The Goddess of Dreams approaches within three strides, swiftly moving past her brother. Her expression is rigid and authoritative, but her embrace is gentle when she takes you in her arms.    You protest, whimpering and sputtering, but Miyin never lets you go and with one squeeze, a mesmerizing incantation leaving her lips, you are falling asleep in her arms, rescued from your own madness.   It goes quiet and she turns around, distress evident in her features. “Call Seokjin.”   //   They are murmuring silently as you are fast asleep in your bed, but you are not ignorant to their conversation when you know past, present, and future. Your current unconsciousness is merely a fleeting sanctuary, a place of temporary peace in the land of dreams that Miyin has stitched together.   “I saw it.” Miyin muffles her sobbing behind her hand. “I saw her dreams and they were — awful. Atrocious. I….”   “And these are visions of the future?” Seokjin asks, concern taking hold of him.   “I don’t know.” The Goddess of Dreams shrugs hopelessly. “They might be.”   “Then what did you see?” the God of Sun persists, both curious and anxious.   She shakes her head. “Fire. Screaming. A—And people dying….I can’t….”   Yoongi puts his hand on her shoulder, squeezing. “You don’t have to say anymore.” He looks towards Seokjin. “We have more pressing issues than whatever may happen in the future.”   “We need to know if this...destruction can be prevented or if it’s inevitable.”   “How can you still concern yourself with that?!” Miyin’s voice is shrill, distressed. “When Y/N is going mad, the future is what your worries are about?”   “Without Y/N, Heaven will fall before the destruction even comes,” he says, glancing at you in deep slumber. “It’s still forming. New gods are being created. We can’t put Y/N to sleep at every moment.”   “Then what do we do?” She asks the two gods, at a complete loss. It’s clear that you are being tormented and she doesn’t know how to help. But suddenly a thought comes across her mind and she turns to her brother.   “Talk to her, Yoongi,” Miyin pleads, knowing full well that you have always been closest to him. “She’s always listened to you.”   “She hasn’t spoken a word to me since her coronation,” he reveals in a murmur, making the other two even more troubled at the change.    It goes silent.    The gods are helpless.   //   Their efforts are futile — akin to a tree that provides shade during a violent thunderstorm or a single blanket given during a vicious blizzard. The comfortings given do little for you, not when they are ignorant and you are cursed with this knowledge. Words do not solve wars, they only prevent them. And you cannot prevent what is to come.   But there are still things you must say before time becomes too late — before you completely succumb to hysteria, so you gather yourself with your last remnants of sanity.   And the door opens before Miyin can knock on it.    You knew she was coming. You were waiting for her.   “Good morning, Your Majesty.” The Goddess smiles at the sight of you up and about, but you can tell it is forced. The friend she has made long ago is different from the god she sees in front of her. “I wanted to ask if—”   “You don’t need to tread carefully with me, Miyin.”    Her parted lips close and you shut the door after she enters. “Your room is still a mess,” she quips with a smile, perhaps to lighten the tension lingering in the atmosphere that is suffocating. “Do you need me to call the servant later?”   “No. I do not want to see her.” You take your seat, motioning for her to do the same. “You don’t need to preface yourself, Miyin. You came to speak to me, so do so without your hesitation.”   The Goddess of Dreams swallows hard and takes your hand. “I cannot say I understand what you are going through, but I have seen it. I have seen your dreams and I have seen the horrors the universe will be put through. But there is nothing that you, Seokjin, Yoongi and I can’t overcome”   “There are many things,” you murmur. “You just don’t know them yet.”   “Then tell us about it and we….we will shoulder your burdens.”   “If I told you, that would only bring forth more devastation. Trying to prevent the inevitable only causes the repercussions to be stronger.”   “Surely there is nothing out of the power of the Goddess of Light and Life, of the God of Sun, of the God of Moon, of the Goddess of Dreams. We are meant to rule over all—”   You withdraw your hand away from her, diverting your vision elsewhere. “I let you in here not for you to console me, Miyin, but for me to warn you.”   “Warn me?” She is taken aback, eyes widened.   “We are sisters, not my blood but by bond, so I owe you at least this much. The Creator had spoken about forging a God where those humans can lay to rest.” Your words are a prophecy, one she takes for granted. “He will come to exist someday soon. Human souls cannot wander the land forever, they must have a place to rest, but it will cost your happiness.”   “Let him be born.” A tiny smile graces her features, gaze sympathetic and not at all terrified. But you already knew this would be her reaction. She’s oblivious to what will come. If she knew, she would not be so courageous. “I will survive.”   “He will damn you into eternal darkness.”   “Then let him,” Miyin says. “If this was the Creator’s plans, then I will follow.”   “None of this was her plan,” you bitterly mutter. “She didn’t know the future, not like I do. If she did….she would’ve never made any of this. She would’ve made it all vanish with her death.”   “Y/N….”   “Even if I tried to avoid it, it will happen. I am helpless. As are you.” You look into her eyes. “This is my warning to you.”   “I am not afraid,” Miyin tells you sternly. “Even if you tell me an unborn god will bring darkness upon me, I will not live in fear. No god should ever live in fear.”   You remain silent. It makes her distressed, knowing her words have little effect. But you know that righteousness and pride will only serve the purpose of the inevitable destruction.   //   The God of Sun is childish, playful, and argumentative. He sulks and whines, doesn’t like to share and is haughty over petty matters. Seokjin retains his youth and a lighthearted demeanor that others are unsure if they can take sincerely. The golden-haired man in his extravagant robes enjoys making mischief, finds amusement in using his wit to underhand others, but it is never out of malice as it is for his entertainment.   Out of the four of you, it seemed like Seokjin has grown up the least.   Yet, you know now that underneath his immature and childlike disposition is marble yet to be sculpted. Jin is perceptive and the underestimation of others only serves to his advantage. His greed to maintain the glory of Heaven will someday be the strength to uphold it. He is intelligent, especially because he does not flaunt it and would prefer to use narcissism to hide intentions.   Seokjin is many things, but he is not foolish.   You come to him before he seeks you out.   “Yoongi will be upset if you make the sun fall sooner than it is supposed to.”   “Y/N.” He whirls around, coy smile playing at his features. Of all entities, Jin was the only one who did not treat you any differently. It reminds you of a time long ago when you did not wear the crown, when you did not know what you do now.    A time of ignorance you impossibly wish you could return to.   “But of course, you know that. You won’t be the one waking him up after all. You’ll call a servant.”   “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed resting?” he asks, halting the movement of his hands that was bringing the sun down.   “I thought I would save you the walk of having to come to me. Miyin has insisted that you spoke to me, correct?”   Seokjin grins boyishly. “You really are the all knowing god now, aren’t you?”   The nonchalance is a front. You know Seokjin worries silently, that his doubts lie between his sentences. He is merely persuading you to be at ease rather than confronting you directly about his numerous questions. He consoles you through indifference, as if nothing has changed.   “To know isn’t to understand, Seokjin. I wouldn’t wish this upon you or anyone. You should never want to be an all knowing god.”   His lips fall into a straight line and he approaches with his arms behind him, the sun piercing through his backside. The light shines but it is hardly warm. “What will happen to Heaven, Y/N?”   “It will recover as all things do, but not without facing calamity and making sacrifices.”   “And what will happen to you?” he asks in a softer tone, brows furrowing.   “It doesn’t matter.”   “Tell me what happens, Y/N.” The God of Sun’s voice is firm and demanding. “Miyin told us that there was fire and destruction. It’s a war, isn’t it? Between the mortals? Where are the gods then? Tell me everything that you know.”   “If I tell you, Heaven will never find prosperity. There will never be a golden age. Not only will the mortals cease to exist, but the gods will no longer have their place in this universe.” You shake your head. “I cannot tell you what you truly want to know.”   “How can that be? We are the Great Gods of this world. Nothing….nothing could destroy us.”   You gaze at him, your eyes connected. You’re aware that he knows — that beneath the nonsensical dignity, it is possible. It’s possible that Heaven will be saved.   “You would make a better ruler than I would,” you murmur, much to his astonishment. “Someday, you will become very wise and mature.”   “I do not wish to be the ruler,” Seokjin says immediately and his face scrunches, finding the thought of responsibilities burdensome and distasteful.    For the first time in a while, the corner of your mouth quirks. You reach out to him, sleeves falling back until your palms cradle his cheeks. Your touch is tender and you guide him forward until your foreheads are pressed together.   Your eyes flutter shut. “With my name known, allow your soul to take this blessing of mine.” It is a symbolic gesture, one made with endearment that you both know well after the Creator has given you many blessings during her lifetime.   After you draw away from him, Jin gazes at you. “What did you bless me with?”   “The stars.”   His plump lips become lopsided, brows knitting together into a frown. “What are the stars?”   “They are suns, like you, but farther away. Glimmering specks that fill the night to keep the moon company. They cannot be reached or touched, but they can still watch over you, always.”   “They sound beautiful,” he murmurs, entranced. “Will they be your first creation?”   “Yes.” You look towards the sky. “They will be.”   //   The moon hangs in the sky, shedding light in the darkness to help lead those astray back to their homes. The silver colour lights up the entire world that is blanketed in darkness.   You know you’re foolish for still cherishing this sight, for savouring this temporary serenity. But still, you wrap your arms around you and step out onto the cold terrace to bathe in the soft light.   A moth with tiny, brown wings descends towards you. It flaps and flutters, tickling against your skin before floating around, right out of reach. You watch for a moment and then you feel his presence behind you.   If you turned around, you would see him glow in his milky moonlight. He would be ethereal with his soft and sleepy features, ruffled black hair. His eyes would stare back into yours and you would come to realize again just how beautiful Yoongi is.   But you are too scared to face him.   “Don’t come.”   Yoongi stops. He comes to a stand still.   You don’t turn around, merely allowing a sigh to leave your lips. “Will I ever be able to look at the moon without you coming to me? Or better yet….perhaps it would be better if some nights there were no moon at all.”   “Why have you been pushing me away?” His husky timbre cuts through the air, a question that you have too many answers to, but ones you never wanted to say.   Still, you know what the future holds. You know you’ll have to say it, to provide him the explanation that will end up burdening him forevermore.    So you shut your eyes and brace yourself, gathering the courage to turn around to face the god who has long owned your heart.   “You don’t love me.”   Yoongi is taken aback, eyes pierced into yours. His mouth parts, but you don’t give him a chance to speak. You already know. “You will never love me. You’ve given your affection to my servant girl and you are a fool for it, Yoongi. She will not be reborn. She will only live with you for a blink in the lifetimes we have left, but you have chosen her.”   The God of the Moon does not utter a word. He is unable to deny these accusations.    “But even with her gone, you will never love me while for the rest of eternity, I will.”   You can see past, present, future — a responsibility you must bear. But of all the devastation you have witnessed, of all the pain you have felt, what still hurts most is knowing that your feelings for Yoongi will never be returned.   The moment you were crowned and the gifts were given to you, you saw your eternity in an instant. The knowledge came barrelling at you without remorse, striking your very being. You have seen your fate and his.   From this lifetime to the next — now and in twenty millenniums, even if Yoongi marries you and becomes your husband, he will see you as a companion. He will see you as a friend. And you will always want him as a lover.   You will never have all of Yoongi no matter how much you wish. No matter how powerful you become. No matter what title you hold. You are eternally lonely. A mirror of the lonely Creator, but unable to fill the void that collapses your soul.   You will have Yoongi’s presence, but never his mind and soul.   “I still care about you.” His tone is low, calm and collected. “You are important to me, Y/N. You always will be.”   “But it will never be enough!”   The god doesn’t know what to say. He simply wears an expression of guilt and pity that aches your heart, one you have seen in visions, one you have grown to detest. And tears begin to shed down your cheeks. The droplets are golden lights, shimmering like beads of liquid gold or fireflies falling. They are not as bright as the moon but more numerous and they drip onto the terrace, lighting up the night.    The words hiss out of you, ugly and revolting. “I will never be enough for you.”   “Y/N….” Yoongi calls out and approaches.   “It would be better if no one knew the future,” your voice booms across the land, wrapping around the God of the Moon, your betrothed, and your unrequited love. “It would be better if no one knew like I knew.”   Your skin gleams brightly, glittering like the sunlight and glowing like the moon. The wind suddenly brushes through Yoongi’s hair and the sheer force pulls him back from getting to you. “Y/N!”   You gaze at him with softened eyes, relishing in this sight. Your voice ricochets throughout the universe. “Stay on the moon, Yoongi. Be in solitude. Feel the loneliness that I would have felt for an eternity that never ends.”   The man’s irises are glazed over in the colour of obsidian, his skin bathed in the milky moonlight and making him glow. You stare at him and then to the darkened horizon, knowing the days that are yet to come, the years of misery and where the world will turn to ruin, the helplessness that will drive you insane.   And you succumb to weakness.   The lights seem to spill from inside of you. It pierces through your skin. It tears it apart. It overflows at the seams.    “Y/N!” Yoongi screams in terror and a smile lifts on your features.   You are not Y/N, the Goddess of Light and Life, ruler of all rulers, god of all gods.   You are Y/N, the Goddess of Stars and Loneliness.   “Please,” the god begs, head shaking, hands trembling — he is the God of Moon you will always adore and keep close to your heart. “Don’t go.”   “Let me go,” you murmur gently and begin disintegrating into specks of lights that shimmer all around him. Yoongi falls onto his knees, grasping at the small particles to no avail.   Seokjin and Miyin run out from inside, awoken by the shaking of the ground, by the stirring they feel inside of them. But they can’t look at you.    The night is seared with light as if the sun itself had risen.   “Take the crown, Seokjin.” You smile at him and look towards the sky, taking the gifts of clairvoyance and precognition with you to spare those from the future. Your power of life begins to bleed into the world as well, morphing into a natural force. “I do not wish to be reborn.”   “Y/N!”   The God of Sun shields his eyes away. The Goddess of Dreams is sobbing, trying to reach you. And Yoongi stays in his spot motionlessly, on his knees, ignoring the pain of your radiant aura.    His eyes connect to yours and you smile at him before imploding into a million lights. Yoongi watches as the lights float upwards, becoming splotches in the night horizon that glitter and gleam.

[Present Day]   He looks up at the sky — it’s a clear night where he can see the infinite void of darkness and wonder. But while the inky canopy is an endless abyss, it is decorated with tiny freckles of sparkles. The longer he stares, the more that appears.    They are twinkling pinpricks of light in the sky, some golden and others silver. They cannot be reached or touched, but always watch over the rest of the universe.    The stars accompany the moon, so that it isn’t so lonely.   The man with dark hair and obsidian eyes leans against the terrace railings of his empty palace. His pupils connect the constellations together, drawing lines between them to see the shapes.   But then a little moth serves as his distraction. It’s a tiny thing with brown wings flapping and fluttering. It floats in front of him and he watches before extending his arms to capture the creature in his hand. But then the God of the Moon uncurls his fingers, letting it go.   “What do the stars say today?”   A familiar voice sounds behind him, one he has known for eleven lifetimes now. A smooth timbre that has made many decisions and spoken to many great beings.    Seokjin joins his side, looking out at the sky with a small smile. His question is still unanswered, but it is not uncommon for the God of Sun to ask him about this. After all, in the entire universe, Yoongi has become the best at reading the stars.   “The constellations are shifting. There will be challenges ahead.”   Yoongi continues, “The stars are always melancholic. History doesn’t repeat but it rhymes. There will always be pain and suffering.”   “But there is also hope.” Seokjin stares at his old friend’s profile, lips graced with a small smile. “And the sun always rises after the night.”   There have been many changes since the birth of the four original gods. More gods have come about and the mortals have multiplied even more so. The world is still chaotic — the fire and destruction you had spoken about, like a prophecy, had been fulfilled. The calamity was indeed brought upon Heaven but it had survived.    He’s not sure how long peace will be kept, but Yoongi has learnt that it is within the moment that matters most.   The two of them have gotten old, or at least it feels that way. But Yoongi is glad he is able to be reborn and refresh himself, allowing sorrow and wrath to fade away in cycles. And while you have become a distant memory for him after nearly a millennium, Yoongi doesn’t think he’ll ever forget about you.   Not the way you used to hold his hand when you kept him company on nights he brought the moon out. Not the way you always took to his side. Not the warmth that you gave to him.    Yoongi lets the guilt sit upon his shoulders.   The bittersweet memories of you keep him grounded.   “Do you think she’s watching us?”   “Yeah.” Seokjin sighs wistfully. “I do.”   The corners of his mouth quirk. “She must think we’re still idiots, huh?”   The warm god chuckles, hands behind his back. “Probably. I don’t think she’s ever stopped watching over us, Yoongi.”   The two gods smile, bantering back and forth noisily. It’s the loudest Yoongi’s palace ever gets considering the God of Sun is always rowdy and boisterous. He often ruins the calm atmosphere that the God of the Moon creates, but the occasional company isn’t undesired. It reminds Yoongi of the olden days, during simpler times. Except they have become more mature and wise, just like you have said.   Seokjin yawns, stretching his arms over his head. He bids farewell and turns to return to his extravagant palace. But Yoongi stops him before he can vanish back to Heaven.    “Do you think...she knows?”   Yoongi asks while staring out at the stars, wondering if you know about his regret. His remorse, about how he still cares, about how he remembers you the most out of the three of them that are left.   The God of Sun smiles. “I do.”   Yoongi is left at his lonesome, gazing at the constellations.    The moth floats and flutters in front of him. After a moment, it lies on his cheek as if it were giving a soft kiss and then it flies away into the bright night.

[whenihaveyouromione]

When I Have You - Chapter 23

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Chapter 23

How was it, Ron found himself wondering, August? It had been two months since Hermione and Ginny had come back from Hogwarts and a month since he and Hermione had found their flat in Diagon Alley. 

And, it had been two months of happiness like no other. Ron liked living with Hermione. In fact, he loved it. This had been the longest period of time they had spent together since actually getting together, and it was going extremely well. 

Weirdly, he found they argued less than they used to these days, despite being in closer proximity to one another all the time. Sure, small arguments followed them — things like who was going to cook that night, or how Hermione thought the picture frame she’d bought looked better on one side of the wall, whereas Ron would have preferred it to not be hanging up at all. But beyond that, they found themselves getting along very well, which pleased Ron.

He liked making her happy, and he liked being the reason she smiled or why she spent the day in a good mood, all because he’d kissed her good morning or told her he loved her. For some reason, he always seemed to find a way to make her laugh, even when she was worrying about what the future held for her. 

Which had been the case ever since her NEWT results had arrived. She had pondered, stressed, and gone over each job offer over and over, writing a list of pros and cons for each, throwing the lists away, and then rewriting them until she had twelve inches of parchment on each one. She’d asked Ron for his opinion numerous times, where he’d simply told her she’d be amazing in whatever she chose (which was true, because it was Hermione, and she excelled at anything she did). His lack of decision making on her behalf had stressed her out even more, until he’d caved.

“Alright, well, it’d be cool if you accepted the Magical Law offer, because then we could work together.”

“But… I’m just not sure I want to do that,” Hermione replied, which had been her response to every job. 

“Well, I’m sure if you asked any department in the Ministry, or went to McGonagall and asked for a job, they’d offer you something,” Ron said, stifling a yawn on the second week of discussing her future career every night. 

“But you’d hate me going to Hogwarts again,” Hermione said, though Ron saw in her eyes she was contemplating the idea of teaching. 

Ron shrugged. “We’d work it out. Besides, who am I to stop you from doing what you want?” He said the words because it was the right thing to say, but really, he knew she was right. He would hate it. 

Hermione bit her lip, once again looking over the offers. Then, something changed in her expression. She set two of the offers aside and set the other one in front of her. 

“That was a quick decision after two weeks of going backwards and forwards,” Ron said. He peered over at what she had chosen. “Magical Creatures?”

Hermione gave what seemed to be an attempt at a definite nod, but Ron noticed some uncertainty still. “I… I think this is the right place for me. I mean, I do feel very strongly about magical creatures, and… and maybe I can make a difference or something…” She scanned the letter and nodded again. “Yes, this is where I think I need to go.”

“Alright,” Ron said, grinning. “You’ll be great, whatever you do in there.” He also read the letter. “It doesn’t really specify what you’ll be doing, though, does it?”

“No… but I suppose I have to start somewhere down the bottom? I’ll be learning.”

“Well, you may as well write now and let them know. I bet they’ll be thrilled to have you. I know the Magical Law department will be disappointed, and no doubt Percy will be confused as to why you’d reject his offer, but… that’s a good decision.”

Hermione nodded, immediately jumping up to find a quill and some parchment. After she’d written her response to accepting the offer in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, she scribbled down rejection letters for the other two. 

“I’ll just… go and post these now,” she said after she’d sealed them. “Honestly, I’m so glad we live right near the post office — it’s so convenient.”

“Would be even more convenient if we had our own owl,” Ron said. 

“Maybe,” Hermione said dismissively. “I’ll be back soon,” and she was gone, hurrying through the door and down onto the street. 

Ron shook his head. He’d brought the idea of an owl up a few times, though Hermione had not seemed too keen on it. Apparently having Crookshanks — who was far from impressed about the small space he suddenly found himself confined to — was more than enough for the time being. 

Every time he mentioned it, he found himself longing for his owl, Pigwidgeon, who’d gone missing at some point during the war, most likely killed on a flight to deliver a letter. Ron had never been overly fond of the owl, but he — well, he had been fond of Pig if he was being honest — and he wished they could get another one. 

Hermione returned from the post office half an hour later, declaring that she’d sent off her acceptance for the Magical Creatures job, and — to Ron’s surprise — carrying a cage with a small, brown owl. 

“Hermione, what is —”

“You said you wanted an owl,” Hermione said, smiling. “Have you ever noticed the post office sells some of its unwanted owls?”

“Yeah, because they’re useless at delivering mail,” Ron said, his moment of elation deflating very quickly. Of course Hermione would choose an owl that she considered in dire need of help, rather than one that would do the job it was supposed to do. He eyed the owl with disappointment. 

“Oh, Ron,” Hermione said, setting the cage down in the corner by the window that overlooked Diagon Alley. She took out her wand and Transfigured the cage into a perch. “I know they do that sometimes, but apparently it’s not the case this time.”

“What’s wrong with it, then?” Ron asked, now watching as the owl flapped its wings excitedly, taking in its new home.

“Nothing,” Hermione said. “Nothing at all. They just said they had far too many medium-distance owls. People are using the Floo Network and Portkeys and Apparition more freely these days and prefer to deliver their messages in person.”

“Oh, right,” Ron said, not completely convinced. “So, this one’s alright then?”

“As far as I know,” Hermione said, nodding. “They said her name was Arwen. I thought that was a nice name.”

“Well, as long as she does what she’s meant to, then I suppose she’ll do,” Ron said, offering a finger to the owl, who nipped it affectionately. 

“It will be easier to have one here,” Hermione confessed. “I just… hope Crookshanks tolerates her.” She eyed the cat warily. Crookshanks had just slinked out from the bedroom — his favourite sleeping place — and was now watching Arwen with a hungry expression. 

“We’ll leave the window open,” Ron said. “For a quick escape.”

Hermione didn’t seem to appreciate the joke. 

But she had been right about it being easier having their own owl, and over the next two weeks, Crookshanks and Arwen learnt to appreciate each other in the house; though at times, Ron caught Crookshanks eyeing the owl off as if hoping to have a second dinner. 

The first Monday of August came two weeks after that, and Ron once again found Hermione waking up before him. Wandering into the kitchen, she was already dressed in the Ministry robes she’d been sent. She sat at the table, a piece of toast in front of her with only one small bite taken from it. 

“Excited for today?” he asked, coming over to kiss her. “You’ll do great.”

“I don’t think I know anything about magical creatures,” Hermione said by way of greeting. “I know nothing, in fact. I don’t know —”

“You know more than I do,” Ron said. 

Hermione glanced up, her eyes narrowing as she looked over his bedraggled appearance. “Aren’t you dressed yet?”

“Um, no?” Ron said. “I don’t start for another ninety minutes. And —” he nodded at her, “— neither do you, for that matter.”

“Yes, but didn’t I ask you to come with me early?” Hermione said, her voice higher than usual.

“Yeah, and didn’t I say that was unnecessary?” Ron retorted. “You only need to get there fifteen minutes or so before nine. It’ll be fine. You’ll do great.”

But, it seemed that Hermione was in no mood for Ron’s casual approach towards her first day. “Please, Ron. I want to get there at least half an hour early. Maybe even longer… please.”

“Hermione, you really don’t need to —” But upon seeing her expression and how terrified she looked, he stopped what he was going to say and nodded. “Alright, I’ll go with you early. Just let me shower and eat something first.”

Hermione returned his nod and reached out a hand across the table to take his. She squeezed it. “Thank you, Ron.”

“No problem,” Ron said, smiling. “Anyway, it may give me some time to catch up on paperwork. Do you know they even give trainees paperwork?”

“Yes,” Hermione said, “because you’ve only been complaining about it for the last month.”

“Well, it’s lousy. I mean, we should be learning the practical things, you know? Paperwork can be for later.” He stood up and shuffled towards the bathroom. He was going to look a right fool arriving so early at the Ministry. 

…

To his surprise, however, Harry had beaten him. Ron had arrived with Hermione in the atrium a little after eight. It wasn’t as busy as he was used to, but it was still bustling with workers, all eagerly heading towards their respective departments and offices. Unsurprisingly, Ron spotted Percy hurrying along. His brother may have changed in attitude since the war, but his obsessiveness over work had not changed one bit. 

“What are you doing here?” Ron asked Harry when he stepped into the Auror Office. Hermione trailed nervously behind him, suddenly terrified at being in a place she had spent a lot of her free time visiting Ron. 

“Preparing,” Harry muttered, and Ron noticed he was shuffling some papers in front of him. 

“What for?” Ron questioned, coming to peer over Harry’s shoulder. Spread out before him, Harry had essays written on none other than Draco Malfoy and his parents. “Oh, of course. I completely forgot about that!”

“Yeah, well, lucky you,” Harry said, and he looked nervous. 

The Malfoys had spent the last year and a bit kept under twenty-four-seven house arrest. They were unable to leave their house for any reason at all. The only thing currently keeping them out of Azkaban was that the Ministry was waiting for more qualified people to deal with their case. Like the last time Voldemort had been defeated, the Malfoys immediately claimed their lack of involvement in the war, trying to save their own necks and not caring about who they brought down with them. 

In the countless interviews that had followed the war, Lucius Malfoy had apparently named and shamed every single Death Eater who had gone into hiding, giving himself temporary immunity for his information, and probably making some very unpleasant friends who were now locked up in Azkaban. 

But, it was finally time for the Malfoys to be trialled, and as Harry had had some dealings with them towards the end of the war, he had been instructed to testify about their involvement in it.

Ron had laughed when he’d found out, sure that Harry would send all three of them to the cold, dark cells of Azkaban (where, in Ron’s opinion, they all belonged), but then Harry had explained that he didn’t intend to do that at all. 

“As much as I dislike him, Draco was a product of manipulation. And, if it weren’t for Narcissa, I wouldn’t be here.” However, Harry had nothing pleasant to say about Lucius and intended to ensure he spent the rest of his life in prison. 

“They’ll listen to you, won’t they?” Ron said. “I mean, they’ll do what you want? Draco and his mother out, his father inside. I still reckon you’re making a mistake. They’d throw you under the Knight Bus the moment your back was turned.”

“I’m not so sure,” Harry said. “After all, Draco didn’t give us away at Malfoy Manor…”

“And that went well, didn’t it?” Ron glanced sideways at Hermione, who had instinctively grabbed at her arm where her Mudblood scar was still very visible underneath her robes. 

Harry said nothing, but examined his notes once again. He then looked up, his eyes flashing to Hermione. “Oh, it’s your first day, isn’t it?”

Hermione nodded silently. 

“She’s a little nervous,” Ron said wryly. “You know what she’s like, overthinking everything…”

“You’ll be great, Hermione,” Harry said encouragingly. “They’ll love you there.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Hermione said quietly. She looked to Ron. “Maybe we should go…”

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Ron said to Harry. “Merlin, I wish I could be in those courtrooms with you today.”

“I’d much rather be in training,” Harry said. He got to his feet. “Mind if I join you for a walk? I need to clear my head.”

Ron and Hermione nodded, and the three of them left the Auror Office and headed toward the lift to make their way to the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. 

They’d almost reached the lift when all three of them stopped in their tracks. Ron had to blink a few times to make sure he was seeing correctly, then glanced sideways to Hermione and then Harry to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. 

Before them, looking more haggard than Ron had ever seen them, were the Malfoys. All three were being escorted to the very lift Ron, Harry and Hermione had just been reaching, by silent Aurors. 

Once proud of their blood status, of their family name, people who had always held their heads high, they looked utterly defeated. They were the bottom of the food chain now, kept locked inside for over a year and it showed. Their skin was paler and more gaunty than ever before. Lucius Malfoy’s hair was thinning in places, leaving bald patches where thick hair had once grown. He didn’t smile, but when he spotted Harry, something resembling anger flashed across his face. 

Draco and his mother barely noticed them, Draco only looking up when they stopped for the lift. Unlike his father, the youngest Malfoy appeared fearful at seeing them. It was their first encounter since the fight at Hogwarts, and by the looks of things, Ron, Harry and Hermione had fared much better than he had. 

Ron felt a sense of smugness that he didn’t at all try to hide. There was Malfoy, who had spent his whole schooling life tormenting Ron, reminding him of the Weasley family’s lack of wealth and promoting his own, calling Ron so many names that Ron couldn’t remember them all, looking very much the worse for wear. And opposite him was Ron, the so-called ‘blood traitor,’ considered a hero of the war. 

The lift doors opening and the Aurors forcing the Malfoys into it was the only thing that prevented Ron from pointing that out. Though, he couldn’t help himself entirely.

“I suppose Harry’ll be seeing you in the courtrooms. You may regret all those jibes at him over the years, considering he has your fates in his hands.”

Fear graced all three of the Malfoys’ expressions now, and Ron smirked, despite himself. The Malfoys hadn’t been told Harry would be at his trial. 

Ron glanced sideways at Hermione, as he’d expected her to reproach him for his comments, but she appeared not to have heard him at all. Her eyes followed the descending lift, a look of pity in her expression. 

“God, they look terrible,” she said. 

“You’re not feeling sorry for them, are you?” Ron asked, incredulous. “After all Malfoy did to you over the years? After all the times he called you a —”

“I just said they look terrible,” Hermione interrupted, a little stiffly. “Besides, we know Harry is going to testify in favour of Malfoy and his mother, so we’ll have to deal with them in society if the Wizengamot agrees with Harry, which they’d be stupid not to.”

“Doesn’t mean seeing them in society is something I’m going to enjoy,” Ron muttered as another lift arrived and the three of them scrambled in. “Harry’s too nice, if you ask me. I’ll never forgive Malfoy for what he did. For all they’ve all done over the years. You wouldn’t understand — you didn’t grow up knowing all about the horrible things the Malfoys were known for.”

The topic of the Malfoys died as the lift reached level four — the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Already, there were plenty of people roaming this level, which gave Hermione a very green complexion. 

“Oh, stop your panicking, would you?” Ron said, stifling a laugh. He placed an arm around her waist, guiding her forward. “Where was it you have to go again?”

“The… the Being Division,” Hermione said nervously. As she spoke, they reached a sign with arrows pointing in all sorts of directions. “Left,” she said after a moment.

The three of them headed down a corridor, very quickly reaching large double doors with the signage of Being Division embossed above it. 

“You’ll be fine, Hermione,” Harry said encouragingly, and he patted her on the arm. “Good luck. Let me know how you go. Actually, why don’t you guys come over for dinner tonight?”

“Er, sure,” Ron said, surprised by the sudden invitation. “Let me know how the trial goes, won’t you?”

Harry nodded and practically jogged back down the corridor.

Ron kept his arm around Hermione, giving her a squeeze. “You really will be great,” he said. “You’ll be so great they’ll be wanting to make you head of the department within a month.”

“Oh, don’t say that!” Hermione whispered. 

“It’s only the truth,” Ron said, shrugging. “Do you need me to go in with you, or will you be alright?”

Hermione opened her mouth, and Ron suspected she wanted to ask him to go in with her, but she closed it before speaking and shook her head. “I’ll be okay, I think. Thank you for coming early…”

“Not a problem,” Ron said. “And, try and meet up with me for lunch, yeah?”

Hermione nodded, turning to face him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him. He kissed her. 

“You really will be great,” he assured her. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, Ron,” Hermione said, and steeling herself, she pushed open the doors to the division and vanished from sight. 

Ron beamed, making his way back to the lift. He had meant what he said. She really would be great. Hermione was great at everything she did. He had no doubt that one day she really would be head of the department if she chose to stay there. 

…

Ron slumped from the training room at lunch time, feeling exhausted. They’d just spent the morning Apparating to multiple places around London, following planted leads as part of the day’s training. It had been fun, but tiring, having to move so abruptly over and over again. 

However, as the trainers pointed out at everything they did — these were all real life situations they were being put in. Occasionally, once they finished training, they would be chasing Dark wizards around the country, and most likely further than London. 

Dragging his tired feet to the tea room, Neville beside him, they collapsed into two chairs, not even bothering to look at what food was on offer. 

“I wonder how Harry’s doing down in the courtrooms,” Neville said after a moment. “I wonder if the Malfoys…”

Ron glanced at Neville, feeling a moment of pity for him. Malfoy had made Neville’s life hell, too, and because of that Ron had not bothered to tell him that Harry planned on letting Draco off the hook. Instead, he shrugged, “We’ll find out soon, I suppose.”

A moment later, Hermione hurried into the room as well, looking frantic as she drew up a seat with them.

“Looks like you had just as fun a morning,” Ron said. “You alright?”

“Yes!” Hermione breathed. “I just… got lost on my way here…” She waved a hand around the room. “The Ministry is so much bigger than I thought…”

“You get used to it,” Ron assured her. “How’d it go?”

Hermione nodded, regaining her breath. “Oh, it was great! Do you know why they offered me this job to begin with?”

“Because you’re amazing?” Ron guessed.

“No, because they heard… they found out about SPEW! They want me…” She was so excited she could barely finish her sentence. 

“Go on,” Ron said, smiling.

“Well, they want me to start rewriting laws for the rights of all intelligent magical beings.”

“What?” Ron asked, taken aback by this revelation. Not because he didn’t think it was a good idea — he had learnt a lot over the last few years — but because rewriting laws was not something they usually asked new employees to do.

Hermione nodded, beaming. “They said they were glad that I accepted them, because they thought I had a really good understanding, and Kingsley, apparently, has asked every department to start thinking about ways to change the Ministry. And after I knocked back the Auror offer, he thought it would be a good idea to have me there instead. Even if I’d accepted the Magical Law offer, I probably would have been doing something similar anyway.”

“Wait,” Ron said, “to change the Ministry?”

Hermione nodded again. “Yes, apparently he doesn’t want it to be as it has been in the past. He wants things done a better way, differently. He wants more Muggleborns in positions of power, he wants to encourage better relations with Muggles in general, so maybe one day, the Statute of Secrecy can be changed — though that’s a long way off, I think — and he just doesn’t want things to be as they once were. He envisions a totally different Ministry, and he wants us — me — to help with that!”

“Well… that’s great!” Ron said, reaching across the table to rub her arm encouragingly. “I told you you’d do a great job. And look, they’re already asking you to do something more advanced than most would. So, you’re rewriting laws?”

“Well, obviously not immediately,” Hermione told him. “It will probably take years to get such laws through and passed and then put into place. But they want me to focus on house-elves, goblins and centaurs first. I’ll probably start with house-elves, truthfully. I’ve done the most research into that.”

“Great!” Ron said again, though this time, he couldn’t help but wonder why Hermione had found all of this out on her first day, where he, Harry and Neville had been working there for over a year now and Kingsley had said nothing to them. 

But there was no more time for conversation, for in that moment, Harry entered the lunch room. His eyes scanned it, and spotted Ron, Neville and Hermione. He made his way to them, grim-faced.

“How was it?” Ron asked as he pulled up yet another chair and sat down. 

“Really bad,” Harry said. “Lucius… he’s a piece of work… even in chains. But Draco and Narcissa are free to live their normal lives.”

“What?”

All eyes flickered to Neville, who was staring at Harry with his mouth open. 

“You mean Malfoy didn’t go to Azkaban?”

“... no,” Harry said, looking a little embarrassed. “They got off their charges. The Wizengamot deemed over a year under house arrest enough of a punishment for them. Lucius Malfoy has been sentenced to life in Azkaban, though.”

Ron noted that Harry didn’t explain to Neville that it was Harry who had testified against Draco and Narcissa. It would be in the Prophet tomorrow, anyway.

“Well, that’s good, at least,” Neville muttered, though he looked rather put out by this unexpected news. 

Ron looked at Harry and Hermione, who looked just as uncomfortable as he felt. 

“How’s your first day going, Hermione?” Harry asked.

“Great!” Hermione said, and she relayed what she had just told Ron and Neville moments earlier. 

“Told you, you’d be great,” Harry said. “Also, Ron, Neville, I ran into Kingsley on my way up here. He says he wants to see us in his office after training today.”

“Uh, probably because we may have Apparated a little clear of the checkpoint today,” Ron groaned, looking at Neville. “Entirely my fault, but I swear some Muggles spotted us.”

“Why’d he want me there, though?” Harry asked.

Ron shrugged. “Anyway, anyone want anything to eat? I’m starving!”

…

However, Kingsley didn’t want to speak to them for matters regarding that day’s training. He wanted to speak to them about something resembling what Hermione had said earlier — about changing the way the Ministry of Magic functioned. 

There they all sat, in the Minister for Magic’s office, not unlike the time where he’d offered them all Auror positions. But this time he was asking them for their ideas, not their service. 

“But Kingsley,” Harry said, looking hesitant, “we’re just trainees. Surely you should be asking the more accomplished Aurors their ideas.”

“Everyone will be getting their chance to have their say,” Kingsley conceded, “However, none of them have had such involvement in a war, or contributed in the downfall of Lord Voldemort, such as yourselves — yes, you too, Neville.”

Neville flushed, closing his mouth. 

Kingsley smiled at him. “You defeated a Horcrux, the final one, might I add, eventuating in the downfall of the darkest wizard of all time.”

Ron heard Neville mutter something about not knowing it was a Horcrux and clapped him on the back. “And you pulled the sword from the Hat. Can’t say I’ve done that, myself.”

Neville went even redder. 

“So, start thinking,” Kingsley said. “I am pleased to have Hermione starting work around our relationship with other magical beings, and the three of you sharing your ideas would be completely beneficial.”

“But… why?” Ron asked, still coming to terms with the idea that his opinion in such an important setting was valued. 

“Well,” Kingsley said, “as I mentioned previously, all of you contributed to —”

“No, I mean, why do you want to change things? The Ministry has run this way for centuries.”

“And, in your opinion, Ron, are you happy with how it’s been run in your lifetime?” Kingsley asked. 

Ron thought about it for a moment. He supposed he wasn’t at all happy with the way things were run, though he’d never really considered the possibility of an alternative. Was that even possible? How could the Ministry change?

“There are still people who work within these walls that share values of old,” Kingsley continued when Ron didn’t respond. “And, while good workers, I envision a Ministry that is inclusive and accepting of all, regardless of their history or blood status. There is living proof in Hermione that just because she is of Muggle parents, it has not inhibited her ability to perform magic at all. She’s —”

“The best,” Ron interjected. 

Kingsley nodded. 

“But, Kingsley,” Harry began, “won’t there always be people who believe in things like blood status? We can’t entirely eradicate such old fashioned views.”

“No,” Kingsley said, “but we can work together by changing their attitudes. The Ministry has earned a poor reputation over the last few years, and rightfully so, but I seek to change many things within it, starting now. The three of you have proven yourselves as exceptional Aurors in the making, and your history shows your quick decision making is superb. I’m not asking for answers now, but I’m asking you to think about it. How can we make it a better place for everyone? How can we change things so we can ensure what happened to the last few Ministers, doesn’t happen again?” He gave a wry smile as he added, “Call me arrogant, but I wish to remain in this position for some time yet. I’m rather enjoying myself.”

There was silence again. 

“I’m, of course, not expecting a change overnight,” Kingsley continued. “It will be years, I know, to get the big things happening. But I want you to be aware of it — to think about it. If you will?”

Ron looked between Harry, Neville and Kingsley, and saw that his friends looked just as perplexed as Ron felt. It felt weird that someone of Kingsley’s experience envisioned them as the future — young, barely out of school wizards who’d foolishly gone on a hunt for Dark artefacts that attempted to destroy them.

Personally, Ron thought Kingsley might have been banking a little too much on the luck they’d had along the way and less on their actual ability. Well, in Ron’s case, at least.

But he didn’t say anything as they left the office, all deep in thought. He’d still do as Kingsley asked — or at least try — and think of ways to improve the Ministry. One thing he did know that needed to change was the requirements it took to enter the Auror program. As was proven by the people who walked beside him, you didn’t need an Outstanding in your Hogwarts results to prove yourself to be good at the prestigious job. One’s experience, dedication and natural ability was much more important. 

[blisslilywrites]

𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑦 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠.

➵︎ You’re a fairy who accidentally wound up in this world, but with the help of a human you met, you’re hoping you’ll be able to find a way back

Pairing: Tsukkishima x Fairy!Reader Word Count: 1.6k [one-shot] Genre: fluff(?), fantasy Warnings: none

A/N: yepp this is pretty late but ive been busy lately plus i wasn’t rlly happy with how this turned out but figured might as well just post it -lily 

The ground glowed blue. Fallen leaves and loose pieces of grass started swirling around you. 

This is not good.

You saw a flash of white and suddenly fell through the ground. 

The world became dark. 

You screamed and flailed, flapping your wings out of instinct. It proved futile and you soon realized your surroundings were devoid of air. You were just… falling. 

As soon as you realized this, everything became light again and you saw the grassy ground approaching fast. You hit the ground with a thud a second later and knocked yourself out. 

When you woke up, you groaned and slowly got up. Turning around, you took in your surroundings. A few bushes sprouted here and there, grass that extended in all directions, and a smooth gray pathway that cut through the vibrant green. 

That’s odd. There aren’t any pathways like this in the fairy kingdom. 

You shrugged. Ah well who knows what projects the higher-ups are cooking up. This might just be another one of them.

You didn’t actually think it was some project the senior fairies were working on. It was just a way of trying to reassure yourself, and it wasn’t exactly working. The moment you woke up, you knew you weren’t in the Fairy Kingdom anymore

The scenery here wasn’t that different from the ones at home but there was still something that felt off about it. Maybe it was the pathway, or maybe it was the way the wind that blew in your face smelled a bit old. It didn’t seem to have the same freshness as the wind from back home. You tried your best to brush it off and come up with a plan.

Deciding the best thing would be to follow the path, you spread your wings, picked a direction, and let the path guide you.

After what must’ve been hours of flying, both wings were exhausted and you resorted to using your legs. The sky had become a palette of reds and oranges. 

It’s dusk. That means the night folk should be coming out soon.

You shuddered remembering the last time you had a run-in with one of the night folk. Not wanting something like that to happen again, you picked up the pace.

A while later, you spotted two lights in the distance. It was coming closer and closer at an alarming pace. You froze on the spot and couldn’t move until you heard a loud, blaring sound and instinctively dived out of the way. 

The lights zipped past and you could see they belonged to a shiny moving box of sorts. It wasn’t a creature you were familiar with and the fear that was inside since you fell through the portal started to grow. 

You hurriedly got up and continued walking. The further you went, the colder it became. You huddled your thin wings around your arms and continued forward, not wanting to stop until you found something, anything, that could serve as shelter. 

The pathway sloped downwards and you could make out faint lights coming from the valley below. Hurrying forward, you spotted what looked like a town and immediately uncurled your wings and flew down to it. 

Upon closer inspection, this town was nothing like the towns of the fairy kingdom. Lights came from strange places and gave off a white tang. There wasn’t any grass here, save for a few patches here and there. Instead, the ground was all smooth. There weren’t many trees either and you wondered what these creatures used for their homes. Did they live in the huge blocks that covered the area? 

You were curious to know what creatures lived here, and even more so, if they were welcoming.

-----

Practice had just ended and Tsukkishima was all ready to go home. Yamaguchi had stayed home sick so it was just him walking home today. He put on his headphones and strode out of school and onto the sidewalk leading home. 

He was well past the school when he noticed a few street lights flickering. This area of town always gave him the chills. At this time of night, no one was out and the streets were ominously empty. It was also very quiet, which didn’t exactly bother Tsukkishima but always struck him as a bit off for some reason. 

He was about to turn a corner when he bumped into someone. Looking down, he saw something, or rather someone, fumbling to get up. The force of walking into Tsukkishima had knocked them down so he begrudgingly gave them a hand. Begrudgingly because he was Tsukkishima, because he didn’t know this person, and because they were dressed head to toe in what looked like huge leaves and flower petals. 

The oddly-dressed person ignored Tsukkishima’s hand and jumped up on their own. It was then he saw the insect-like wings protruding from their back. 

Thinking this person was probably just another dedicated cosplayer, he muttered an apology and continued making his way back home.

-----

You stared at the creature you had just bumped into. This one was unlike the shiny moving box in that it had features similar to fairies. 

It had a nose, two eyes framed by something unfamiliar to you, a band that extended across its head and covered the sides of it, two arms and two legs clothed in interesting-looking garments. It didn’t have wings but was carrying a sack of sorts over its shoulder. The creature was quite tall, taller than you by much, so you had to look up towards it. 

Before you could say anything, he muttered something lost to you and turned to walk away.

“Wait,” you called out, going after it.

The creature didn’t turn around so you kept calling. It finally did and looked at you with what seemed to be extreme perplexity.

“What do you want?”

You paused, not quite understanding what this creature was saying but sensing it was somewhat annoyed. 

Ohhh we don’t speak the same language. You smacked your head, ashamed of not realizing it sooner.

In one fluent motion, you took some golden-colored dust from a pouch by your side and sprinkled it on your lips, murmuring an incantation while doing so. 

“Can you understand me now?”

The creature looked unimpressed and merely looked at you before repeating, “What do you want?”

“Umm..well you see, I’m lost. Could you tell me where we are..?”

The creature looked even more unimpressed and in a sarcastic tone he answered, “Japan.”

“J-Japan..?” 

You’ve never heard of this Japan place before and you were starting to worry more.

“What? Don’t know what Japan is?”

You nodded sheepishly regretting not paying much attention in world studies class.

Now the creature just seemed to look shocked.

“Where are you from then?” it asked.

“The Fairy Kingdom,” you replied almost instantly. 

It narrowed its eyes and scowled, “Where are you really from?”

“I told you, the Fairy Kingdom.”

-----

Tsukkishima had no idea why he was still talking to this person. They were clearly unhinged. He told them they were in Japan like the smartass he was but they seemed to have never even heard of it. 

The Fairy Kingdom? Wings? Clothes made out of plants?? Yeah, they definitely needed help. 

He was about to walk away, again, when they flew in front of him. They flew, with their insect wings that were apparently not a prop. He blinked once, twice. 

“Could you--”

“You’re an actual fairy?” he interrupted.

“Uh yeah.”

“And you’re from the..Fairy Kingdom?” 

“Yes. That’s what I’ve been saying,” the fairy pouted and flapped their wings in a huff.

Tsukkishima found that action a little cute but kept it to himself. He was still processing all this.

You stopped pouting and fluttered to the ground. 

“Umm, so it seems I may have gotten myself a little lost and ended up here.” Looking up at him, you asked in your most pleading voice, “Could you maybe help me find my way back… please?”

He hesitated. He’s heard stories of deceiving fairies and how people said to not get into deals with them. Or maybe that was another fictional creature… Either way he wasn’t about to risk anything without the prospect of getting anything in return.

“What do I get? In return for helping you?”

“The satisfaction of doing a good thing?”

He shook his head, “Not good enough.”

“Ummmmm… I’ll owe you?”

“Hmm interesting offer,” he said with a smirk. “We can discuss that in detail later. For now, let’s go. It’s getting late.”

“Wait so are you going to help me?”

“Possibly.”

You cracked open a wide smile and jumped up in the air, flying alongside him as he walked down the path. 

“Thank you… What was your name? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“You can call me Tsukkishima.”

“Tsukkishima..that’s kinda long. I think I’ll just call you Tsukki,” you said with a grin. “By the way, my name’s Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

He cringed internally wondering what he had just gotten himself into. 

It’ll all be fine though. There’s no way this could be real. This was just some dream or hallucination brought on by his exhaustion from practice. Yes, that was it. He’ll gladly humor this fairy. It was just a dream anyway.

The next morning when he woke up, the first thing he saw was your face, wide-eyed curiously peering down on him.  

He let out a yelp and quickly reached for his glasses. 

Taking a deep breath, he calmed down and realized two things: he was late for school, and you were still here which meant… it wasn’t a dream after all.

A/N: qksnkd okk not my best fic,,, it feels incomplete somehow? idk maybe if i get some inspiration in the future i’ll consider writing more parts. also hoped tsukki wasn’t too ooc;-;

[carnivorousmossbeast]

Have a smol flavorshot. Couldn’t sleep last night so I did the mech suit/dystopia/sci-fi thing. Enjoy!!

2000 tons of carbon fiber enforced steel and titanium plates stand before him, staring down at him. Somewhere in there, he knows, is a beating heart keeping the eyes so alert and posture straight. There is a conscience in there. An awareness. Intelligent life. 80 meters tall, five meters wide encased in enough protective material to build four underground shelters. And even then, sometimes the pilots die. Normally he’d have some qualms about enslaving living beings but since no one really knows what the Weidmanns are, only that after they arrived everything started going to shit, he’s hard pressed to find anything more serious and founded to say against it.

Zoro pilots one of the older ones, one that came with a name and wasn’t grown in a lab. The swirly heart on the chest plate and weird face-thingy on the back shield and DEATH spelled across its heavily armored knuckles apparently came with the Weidmann and it didn’t work until someone thought to transfer the weird designs onto the armor. Sometimes it’s a bit touchy, Trafalgar D. Water Law, but it’s yet to fail Zoro. Or earth and humanity, for that matter. And Torao, how Zoro’s predecessor Luffy liked to call the Weidmann, seems to be oddly fixated on the green-haired pilot.

For example it won’t shut down if Zoro is close by.

The World Defense Council would rather play it as though the Weidmanns are machines, not creatures forced into submission by running so much electricity through their brains that they became effectively zombies, because obviously that is seven kinds of wrong, but Torao ruined that notion when Zoro entered the picture.

The first time Zoro’s in the command panel there’s abnormally high latent brain activity. Back then the technicians called it a power surge but to Zoro it had felt different from the power surges during sims. Because the pilots are put through what essentially is torture to be sure that they have it in them to steer a Weidmann. Some bullshit about neurological overstimulation. Now he knows that sometimes, the Weidmanns wake up and devour the humans that enter their spinal canal. And fighting Kaiju while keeping, essentially other Kaiju, under control, is a task in and of itself. That explains why the command panel is designed the same way landing modules are. They’re nigh impossible to break. As though the massive armoring wasn’t protection enough. Zoro soon learns the hard way that, only because the Weidmanns help, they are not allies. Not even close. He watches a pilot lose control over the neural bridge, watches the Weidmann gain its consciousness through the eyes of Torao. It’s quick, but ugly. Sometimes he still hears the screams of his comrade turning into static as he watches helplessly how Mihawk tears the control panel out of his spinal canal and crushes it in his massive fist before dropping it into the ocean carelessly. He remembers a rumbling purr of satisfaction coming from Torao’s conscience. The next two Kaiju attacks he doesn’t let himself sink as deep into the neural bridge as he normally does, even if the soft, warm whisper of Torao is oddly comforting normally. Not then.

Primal fear dictates he remain at the surface, barely submerged enough to feel the long, insanely strong limbs. These Kaiju he doesn't slice apart with the ridiculously long sword Torao's been outfitted with. He brawls, because so close to the surface, so barely there, he lacks the fine motor control to properly wield a 70-meter longs word with electrical currents running down the blade that has teeth running up and down like a chainsaw.

Kikoku is a masterpiece of engineering. Someone really did their research for effective weaponry - and ended up choosing Texas Chainsaw Massacre as reference. Sharknado as well. Perhaps Sharknado is more fitting, since the Kaiju appear from somewhere deep within the Pacific Ocean. They're not sharks, nowhere close, with their huge legs and claws and less than aerodynamic bodies, but a terror from the ocean none the less.

The next Kaiju is one of the strongest yet.

Zoro knows without Kikoku he hasn't the slightest chance to get past its long, leathery winged arms that sport massive claws, or the insanely long tail that has a bone structure at the end of it that Zoro takes one short look at and knows, painfully aware of the implications for his neural bridge - he'll have to go in deep this time - that one hit will smash through Torao's armor like a wrecking ball through a massive wall of reinforced concrete. It will take the entire Weidmann down and damage it beyond repair.

There are two other Weidmanns running point, "got your six, Zoro" crackles Ace's voice through the comms. Boa Hancock is arguably the prettiest out of all the Weidmann, and Ace is definitely the prettiest pilot. And the fucker knows it. But Ace also knows his stuff and is one of most well known pilots. Most drops, but not the most kills. Ace is happy to run point and let others take the kill. Boa Hancock isn't strong, it heavily relies on others and teamwork isn't quite Zoro's strength. Especially not in the Weidmann. But then again, few people are good at teamwork when their attack and defense is directly tied to a 70-meter monstrosity of titanium with a serrated running blade and coated in 4000 Volts of electricity. The other Weidmann is Sir Crocodile, among the heaviest defense humanity has, and the pilot is the most cryptic bitch ever.

In her presence Zoro always gets a distinct feeling like he's the butt of a joke that only she understands. Nico Robin the strangest out of the bunch. Except she really isn't. They're all weird in the Tokyo Shatterdome.

But then again you have to be somewhat messed up in the head to even be considered for pilot training.

He takes a deep breath before sinking into the neural bridge. Torao's consciousness envelopes him like warm, summer air, smelling softly like heat and sweat and sleepiness in the shade of a tree. He's in deeper than he was with the last two Kaiju, deeper than the WDC says is green, but not where he used to go. Torao and him, they used to synch. Zoro would leave the dock being submerged at the green levels and slowly slip in deeper once the control and directing electrodes were off.

He'd be pulled from Torao the instant he crossed over the yellow into the orange line, and where he goes is deep, dark red.

Rumor has it that once you're past yellow, you start becoming part of the Weidmann. The general public is fed a pretty tale of too much neurological input and synaptic overload but the ugly truth is - you're waking the beast. You're lending your tiny, insignificant brain for them to regain their consciousness and that fries you. Only Torao has never truly been gone. It's the one Weidmann they couldn't really tame and eventually it burned through all its pilots.

Zoro sees the charts stabilizing, the brainwaves lining up sort of on top of each other, enough that he'll be able to move Torao without getting consumed. Or overpowered, torn out and crushed. He relays his data to command and gets the go. Transfer out to the ocean is oddly silent. Torao is unusually still and Zoro doesn't like it. Something is off.

They land, knees slightly bent and hands at the hilt of Kikoku, and then they wait. The Kaiju is moving towards Tokyo, but it's taking its time. While its predecessors have always taken the most direct approach, this one circles around, tests their patience. Tense silence rules between the three monsters humanity tamed to defeat their unknown enemy, with only crackling updates on how far away the monster lurks. Little crackles of static in the silence. Zoro could probably hear a pin drop if he were to unlock his helmet. Even the ocean is deceptively calm.

Zoro thinks he can see movement at the horizon, thinks he can feel a tingle of excitement, adrenaline, rushing through his veins, but he's too deep in the Weidmann to still feel his body like that. Zoro frowns. Now is not the time.

The Kaiju rears out of the water like a monster straight out of old Japanese Kaiju-movies. It's ugly, with thick leathery skin and glowing green eyes, a maw full of crooked teeth, and the leathery skin flaps attached to its arms make a good imitation of wings. He draws Kikoku and readies himself, only to be hopelessly overpowered by the monstrous creature. He forgets about the tail, sees it a moment too late and can only narrowly avoid being hit by the bone club at the end of it. The long appendage hits the Weidmann around the middle and topples him over into the ocean. Alarmed red lights blink in his peripheral vision, damage assessment is still running when the Kaiju descends on the downed Weidmann again. Zoro can hear himself growl - something isn't right he shouldn't be able to hear himself - and yanks up his arm to protect the face.

A new alarm starts blaring when the neural bridge starts to disconnect. Zoro curses up a storm and tries to disengage the neural input dampening systems that are supposed to keep the pilot from experiencing the damage. The pain of being torn apart. The Kaiju shrieks over the still body, the sound shattering through the Weidmann's massive body armor and the command pod and Zoro hears a massive growl in return. And then Torao moves. Zoro isn't in deep enough to be initiating the movement, so this is all the consciousness he's been hijacking for the last two years. Zoro slams his hands against the emergency eject panel, the weapons panels, anything really, that he can reach without disengaging the pilot safety straps. A whole lot of nothing.

He growls. It's not that he's afraid to die, because he dropped that particular piece of humanity the first time he stepped foot in a drop sim, and thoroughly erased the idea of fear when he made his first kill as the backup pilot for Mihawk, it's just that Zoro really hates the idea of not being able to put up a fight.

There's a click and a whirring noise and Zoro finally feels himself sinking deeper into the neural bridge. He stops where he is comfortable, where he went before he witnessed Mihawk tearing the command pod out of his spinal canal. There's a growl rumbling in his - no, in Torao's chest - and a very sudden yank on his mind. Zoro feels like he stumbles and for a second everything is numb and dead, and then it feels like he slips into his body, only that his body is suddenly unfathomably huge and strong. He can feel the bruised organs and muscles of his - Torao's - abdomen, the tingling in the fingertips where the insulating coat doesn't quite manage to keep 4000 Volts on their side of Kikoku's blade.

Zoro hesitates for a moment and suddenly there's a voice echoing through his mind: "Zoro-ya... Didn't take you for a coward."

[ubernoxa]

The Slippery Slope: An Izzy Stradlin Fanfiction

Chapter 1: Penguin on a Leash

MASTERLIST

Story Summary: 6 Chapter mini series about Izzy meeting a biologists who works at the zoo. Takes place after his time with Guns an’ Roses

Izzy watched the penguins swim around in their habitat trying to understand what all the hype was about. Lafayette had fliers and banners advertising the new baby penguins that were born at the zoo only a couple of weeks before he moved back to his hometown. After quickly realizing that he had fallen into a rut since leaving Guns N’ Roses, he decided to mix things up and visit the zoo to see these overhyped penguins and alleged peaceful gardens that were pictured in half the advertisements he saw.

It was around 2 pm, and Poppy felt relief that there were no children tours on Fridays. Since it was slow she was granted the permission to take one of the injured penguins on a walk. This was without a doubt one of those moments when she was glad that she went to college.

“Yeah Phil, that’s where you will live once your flipper gets a little better,” Izzy’s attention was pulled from watching the penguins swim about when he heart the soft voice followed by some form of squawking and giggles.

“Yeah, and then once you are fully healed, you get to go back to Chile!” Izzy found the soft voice to be a girl, probably only a few years younger than him, talking to one of the penguins who she had on a leash. Maybe it would have been considered weird, but after touring with Guns, the bar for what was actually weird was high. Girl dressed in full wetsuit while walking around a penguin on a leash just wasn’t weird enough.

“What’s wrong with his flipper?” Poppy’s attention was pulled from her penguin when Izzy spoke. She sent a soft smile towards Izzy, just another zoo patron. She felt a sigh escape her as she quickly looked around to make sure they were alone.

“Poor thing was found cut up on a beach. We’re guessing that he got cut up by a piece of steel, but he is healing really well, such a trooper. I will be sad to see him go,” Izzy held onto every word as she spoke. It was clear that she loved her penguin friend. With her soaked hair and wetsuit, he wondered if she recent went swimming with the penguin.

“Did you two just come from a swim?”

Izzy felt a small smile grow on his face as she giggled at his question.

“No. Before this walk I was checking up on a Dolphin and Edward startled me causing me to fall into the water....I swear sometimes dolphins can be really rude,” Poppy fwlt small butterflies begin to flap their wings in her stomach. The nerves were beginning to soar.

Poppy smiled as Izzy listened to her go on and on about how their little zoo volunteered to help Phil the penguin get better. He was her pride and joy, and there was no doubt that she would be crying when he went back to the wild. They would be happy tears, but tears none the less.

Poppy was shocked when Izzy hadn’t started to show disinterest half way through her rambling. Little did she know that not only was Izzy actually interested, but he was also used to someone rambling about animals. The penguins were a good change from snakes.

“Do you only work with penguins?”

“No, I work with most of the water creatures here. I stay away from the reptile house, those snakes creep me out. I don’t trust them,” Poppy felt a shiver travel through her as she thought of the snakes, or danger noodles as she called them behind closed doors. It wasn’t professional for someone who had a doctorate in zoology to call snakes danger noodles...even if that’s what they were.

“I’m Poppy by the way,” she sent a warm smile Izzy’s way after silence filled the air in between them.

“Izzy,” Izzy reached out his hand and quickly shook Poppy’s wet hand. He was almost shocked she hadn’t recognized him.

“Is this your first time here in the zoo?” Poppy asked hoping to keep the conversation alive. He was definitely the quiet type, but she liked that. She also liked that he was incredibly hot.

“I haven’t been here for at least 15 years....” Izzy watched the penguin Poppy was walking look at the photos of penguins that hung on the wall for decoration. Izzy decided it was strange seeing a penguin outside of its inclosure, but he figured it was strange seeing a rockstar in a zoo.

“Well I have only been here for one year, but a lot has changed. I’m already giving Phil, my penguin buddy here, a tour...would you like to join us? It would help me look more normal because I would be talking to an actual human instead of just a penguin. All that I ask would be for you to help keep your eyes out for any zoo patrons. I’m supposed to be avoiding visitors,” she hoped, no prayed that Izzy would join her. It was clear that he wasn’t from around here by the way he dressed, and she wanted to know what type of cowboy wore a floppy hat like the ones they worse in the musical Newsies.

After a quick chuckle, Izzy replied. “Well you haven’t been very good about staying away from zoo visitors, so I think you could use the help.” Truth be told, Izzy almost said no, but there was something about her silver eyes that caught his attention.

Poppy spent the next couple of hours giving Izzy the most in depth tour she could. She wouldn’t admit it, but she was definitely showing off. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had listened to her ramble this much, and she was going to take full advantage of it. She could hear her mother in the back of her head lecturing her on how she was boring the poor boy to death, but whenever he asked a question or sent a small smile her way she pushed that thought to the back of her head.

Izzy quickly learned that he could listen to her talk about her animals all day. Her silver eyes appeared a little greener whenever she talked about them. Her cheeks would blush and the tips of her ears would turn a little red whenever she apologizes for rambling, but Izzy would always reassure her that it was fine. This only made her cheeks go redder. He had to admit, it was pretty cute.

“That ones name is Edward. He is the one who startled me this morning resulting in me falling into the water,” Poppy pointed at one of the larger dolphins in the far right corner.

“He is defiantly my favorite then,” Izzy teased while looking the aquatic beast up and down.

“Edward doesn’t seem like a dolphin name,” he added walking over towards the dolphin she pointed out. He took another sip of the water that she had given him earlier in the tour. With all of their walking she didn’t want him to get dehydrated.

“That’s why I call him Axl,” this caught Izzy off guard causing him to choke on his water. After a couple of coughs he was able to regain his composure.

“Axl?”

“Yeah of Guns N’ Roses...he’s the lead singer, and according to the tabloids he is horny dick. Edward here shares a similar personality. I heard in a interview not too long ago that Axl is apparently from Lafayette, so I thought it was perfect,” she shrugged before she went back to watching the penguin who was clearly interested in his dolphin ‘friends’.

Izzy smirked as he watched dolphin Axl swim around. He wondered if she was a fan of Guns N’ Roses or just heard of the music. It was almost impossible to avoid hearing about the band. He had been trying to avoid the band entirely for weeks now. Bottom line, he appreciated that she didn’t know who he was. What he was or used to be.

“Looks like Axl is taking a liking to you,” she giggled as she pointed towards the dolphin that was clearly staring at him. Poppy giggled as Izzy moved left and right trying to test to see if the dolphin was actually looking at him. He felt like a fool, but her laugh was worth him making a fool of himself.

“If you ever want to go swimming with your new buddy, let me know. Usually Axl doesn’t like guys, but he seems like he wouldn’t be against swimming with you,” he turned to see the girl smiling from ear to ear.

“No, I’m good. I don’t feel like dealing with a horny Axl,” this earned a giggle from Poppy. It was true though, he had dealt enough with his Axl’s bull shit for years, and he didn’t need to meet the dolphin version.

“Well.....if you ever change your mind,” Poppy walked over towards a small table filled with fliers and grabbed one. She quickly flipped to the page that had her picture on it and wrote her phone number on it.

“This is my personal number, feel free to call it to go swimming....or...if you want to talk about other things. I’m sure you have heard enough about sea creatures to last you a while,” Poppy felt her cheeks flash red as she turned her focus towards the penguin, too intimidated to look Izzy in the eyes.

“Sure,” he said before she waved goodbye and headed behind a staff only door, penguin right behind her.

He opened the brochure and looked at the about our staff page she had written her number on. She looked very different in that photo. Her wetsuit was replaced by a white lab coat where the red hair that framed her face caused her freckles to stand out even more.

Doctor Poppy Thomas is our second aquatic specialist. As a proud Indiana Alumni, Dr Poppy earned her masters and PHD at Purdue University with a focus on animal rehabilitation and psychology. Poppy joined us during the Summer of 1990, and has become a quick favorite amongst the penguins.

Poppy couldn’t help the smile that was plastered on her face as she brought Philip back to the rehab room. She couldn’t believe that she had actually given someone her phone number. She was so proud of herself. Was it professional? No.

Did she do it anyway? Yes.

Plus if anyone asked she could just give a little while lie and say that he was writing a paper and needed to get a hold of her.

“Someone is in a good mood,” Poppy looked over towards Dr Elliot who was reading some academic journal.

“Went on a walk with Philip, he is moving his arm a lot better. He appears to almost have full range. Don’t ya buddy?” Poppy looked at the penguin who was minding his own business.

“Ohh good to hear Poppy!” Sally, one of their technicians, cheered while helping Poppy take off the harness.

“So who was the guy you were showing around? Was he someone who donated a lot of money or something?” Sally asked the moment Dr Elliot left the room.

Despite only being a vet technician, she had more experience with how their Zoo worked than Poppy. Sally had worked at the Zoo for over 10 years, and no one gets a tour unless they are someone special. Now if they were special to Poppy or to the Zoo was a totally different question.

“No, just a visiting paying patron of the zoo,” Poppy shrugged back.

Sally smirked as she saw the red hues fill Poppy’s cheeks. Did someone have a small crush?

“A cute paying patron?”

“I...uhhh...I didn’t notice,” this only earned a laugh from Sally.

“Ohh honey...one of the volunteers asked me why you were giving a tour to a cute guy who looked to be about you age ,” Sally smirked the entire time she was talking.

Poppy just brushed off her comment and went to change out of her wetsuit. Sally was married with two children, so she lived through Poppy. It was something Poppy had grown used to. Whether it was Sally telling her to go out to a bar or to see some concert, Sally would make the recommendations. Her recommendations would also include guys to date, her very unwanted recommendations.

Poppy then spent the rest of the day checking up on the other animals, Izzy never slipping her mind. She then drove home, trying to get her mind off of the boy she gave a tour to. She sang along to songs on the radio all while feeling bad for anyone nearby who heard her poor vocal skills. Once she got home, she walked into her cozy one bedroom apartment and immediately walked over towards her kitchen and began to cook. The entire time she never took her eyes off of the phone.

She grew impatient as dinner turned into watching a show which turned into showering and heading to bed. All hope of Izzy calling her diminished as she curled up under the covers.

Almost in parallel Izzy sat on his couch, silence filling the air. He had debated back and forth on whether or not to call her. He could hear his band mates...ex-bandmates in the back of his head giving him their unwanted advice. Axl was saying to move on, he was a rockstar and she was nothing. Slash was saying something about how she would be a good fuck because doctors know the human anatomy best. Steven and Duff were saying to go for it because she was cute. He let a groan escape him as he plopped down on the couch. Chicks were so much easier when he was in a band.

Izzy soon found himself digging through his bag that was filled with sheet music and other crap, eventually finding the flier with her number. He then found his phone and dialed the number, hoping it wasn’t too late. He turned towards the large black clock that hung on the wall. He cussed to himself as he noticed it was 3 in the morning.

He had almost lost hope when the phone continued to ring, but he felt a smile cross his face when he heard a groggy hello from the other end.

“Hey, Poppy? This is Izzy.”

[vannahfanfics]

Last one, I promise! 😜 I’d like to request an Alucard/Seras fanfic with “Swans.” Maybe have Alucard compare Seras to swans because of how beautiful, yet vicious they are? (Swans are mean in real life. 😭) It’s a dumb idea of mine, so you don’t have to use it. I’ll take anything as long as it’s romantic AluSeras. 😊 - Gaanon 🌵🏜🤎

It’s not a dumb idea at all, Gaanon! I really enjoyed the premise, and also finally getting to write for Hellsing and my best girl Seras Victoria! (P.S., if you request some Pip/Seras from me, I will literally die of happiness. OTP.) I hope you enjoy it, Gaanon, and thanks for participating in the event! <3

Pretty and Fierce

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Hellsing

Characters: Alucard, Seras Victoria

Requested by: Anonymous User

Seras’ eyes sparkled with delight as she trotted down the small hill leading into one of the many picturesque parks tucked away in the London sprawl. Her shoes crunched on the little bits of gray gravel making up the winding path that branched in three directions to disappear into groves of luscious trees. Seras paused at the bottom of the hill to suck in a deep breath, enjoying the scent of earth and grass and aromatic flowers tickling her nose. Then, with an excited squeal, she threw her arms in the air. 

“This park is absolutely beautiful! Oh, it’s so good to get back to nature every once and a while; don’t you agree, Master?” she asked while glancing over her shoulder. She immediately balked, for it seemed her master Alucard did not share the sentiment. Though the powerful vampires were invulnerable to the sunlight— unlike their lesser kin that had been stalking Britain of late— Alucard apparently still preferred the dank dark of his dungeon; he was wrapped up tight in his burgundy cloak with the brim of his hat pulled down over his eyes. Seras pouted at his complete lack of enthusiasm. Thankfully, Integra shared her zeal for the rejuvenating outdoors. 

“Don’t mind him, Seras,” the sophisticated platinum-blonde hummed as she strode down the path. “You are quite right. There is simply something refreshing about a nice trip to the local park, isn’t there, Walter?” 

“Oh, yes,” the butler agreed as he scrubbed pollen off his monocle. “This venture was a lovely idea, Sir Integra.” 

“‘Refreshing’ and ‘lovely,’ my ass,” Alucard grumbled. “It’s a waste of time. Why did you drag me out here when I could be doing something more useful?” 

“There’s more to life than maiming your enemies, Alucard,” Integra tutted as she sauntered past Seras, wagging a gloved finger at the disgruntled vampire lord. “As a centuries-old being, I would have thought you’d have figured that out by now. Besides, look how excited our dear police girl is; do you really want to break her heart by dragging her back to the manor when her little adventure has just begun?” 

Alucard winced as the wily woman used his adorable subordinate against him. To accentuate Integra’s ploy, Seras batted her lashes in the best rendition of puppy-dog eyes she could muster, completing the pleading look with a pitiful pout. 

“Please, Master? I grew up in the countryside, you know, and I do so miss it sometimes.” 

Alucard grumbled something unintelligible and sunk further within the recesses of his thick clothes. When Seras meekly inquired as to what he said, his red eyes flashed within the darkness as he barked, “Fine! But don’t blame me if I get antsy and snack on a civilian or two.” 

“Attack anyone here and I’ll cut your head off, Alucard,” Integra sniffed before looping her arm daintily with Seras’. “Now, police girl. Would you like to accompany me to the pond?” 

“There’s a pond?!” 

Chuckling at the vampiress’ simply adorable zeal, the refined head-of-household for the Hellsing family led her down one of the small paths towards the center of the park. The gravel road then bifurcated, stretching on in a wide circle to ring a large pond. Wood-and-iron benches were spaced out evenly along the pathway every few yards; it seemed this was a popular area, as nearly all of the benches were currently occupied. Seras spotted a young mother watching her children splash in the shallows, a businessman enjoying a coffee break as he read the newspaper, and an old woman tossing dried corn to a family of ducks. Seras scampered closer to observe the fluffy yellow ducklings as they hobbled around their mother’s dappled brown bulk to peck at the little yellow niblets. 

“Ahhhh!” she admired and glanced fervently at Walter. “Look! Aren’t they adorable?” 

“Oh, yes,” the butler appreciated, adjusting his monocle to closely inspect the ducklings as they curiously wobbled over to Seras to peck at her shoes, apparently mistaking the material for sustenance. He smiled warmly as Seras giggled and enjoyed the wee birds waddling around her in a circle, their tiny tail flittering all the while. “Now that I think of it, we have a small pond on the grounds. Perhaps we should invest in a small flock of ducks to liven up the place, eh, Sir Integra?” 

“Oh, I’m sure they would make quite a home of the gardens. However, I’d be concerned about our guard dog getting a little peckish,” she joked with a sidelong sneer at Alucard. The vampire growled, which caused the old lady to release a shocked gasp and hurriedly take her leave. Seras whined as the ducks realized there was no more food to be had and trekked the short distance down into the pond, hopping in to glide gracefully among the reeds and lilies. 

“Master! You scared them away!” she sulked and stomped over to beat on his arm a little. “Why must you be so grumpy? Surely even your cold, dead heart can enjoy something as cute as a duckling, right?” 

“Why has this trip turned into a competition to see who can insult me the most?” the vampire huffed, pulling away from his discontented aide to flop down on the bench. He stretched his arms out over the back, crossed his long legs, and tipped back his head, peering disinterestedly at the rippling surface of the pond through his unkempt bangs. After a minute, he quirked a brow. “I prefer the swans, actually.” 

“Swans?” Seras gasped. She whipped her head around so fast that a few of her vertebrae popped; it was a good thing that she was undead because she really could have broken her neck with how vigorously she whirled about. She keened in bliss as she spotted the poised, long-necked birds drifting serenely across the pond toward them. “Oh, I’ve never seen a swan before!” she gushed, picking her way down to the water’s edge to get a close a look as possible. 

Seras’s sky-blue eyes glittered with wonder as she remained still, watching the sleek white birds slowly approach. Integra and Walter, apparently not charmed by the swans, wandered further down the path discussing what café they should visit on the way home for afternoon tea. Alucard remained on the bench, regarding the young vampire as she slowly sank into a crouch. Seras stuck out her hand to the swans, who stopped swimming to inspect her with suspicious black eyes. She clicked her tongue to entice them over, trying not to vibrate with excitement as one of them decided it was safe enough to venture within her vicinity. 

“Yes… That’s it…” Seras crooned as the swan tentatively encroached, zig-zagging a little as it deliberated how close it wanted to come within the woman’s touch. “I won’t hurt you, pretty thing!” 

She waited with bated breath as the swan timidly grew closer. The rippling water kissed the tips of Seras’s shoes as she knelt among the reeds, stretching as much as she could to try and reach the gorgeous white bird. The swan stopped mere inches from her fingertips, cocking her head as it eyed Seras curiously. The vampiress whimpered and stretched her arm impossibly more, her neat nails just barely skimming the orange-and-black beak of the pond-dweller. 

With an affronted honk, the swan chomped down on Seras’ fingers. 

“Aiiiiiieeeeeeeee!” she wailed, free arm flapping in duress and snapping the reed stalks in half. The swan clamped further down on her hand, mimicking her actions by flapping its wings angrily. “Master, Master, help me!” she sobbed, looking back at him with tearful eyes, only to find him cackling like a maniac on the bench. After some vigorous tugging, Seras yanked her hand out of the swan’s beak and shimmied up the shore, cradling her injured hand and sniffling. 

The swan, however, was not pleased with Seras’ retreat. Still honking and beating its wings, it charged up the small slope, nipping at her bottom as she ran around in circles trying to escape. Her pleads for aid fell on deaf ears, as Alucard was still howling with laughter, holding his belly with his other hand over his face. Curious passersby watched the grown woman flee from the irritated swan, her pigtails bouncing wildly as she jumped the bird’s snaps at her uniform skirt. 

“I’m sorry I disturbed your afternoon! Please, Mr. or Mrs. Swan, I beg you to leave me be!” 

The bird stopped chasing Seras, contented by her apology. The vampire trotted to a stop, hunching over slightly as she fought for breath. The swan ruffled its feathers haughtily before waddling back the pond, tail wiggling as it swam back to its comrade who had watched the entire exchange with interest. Once her assailant was a safe distance away, Seras sank down to her knees with her legs splayed out on either side of her, sobbing petulantly. 

“So mean… I thought swans were supposed to be regal, graceful creatures… It damn near took my hand off and then went for my bum!” she lamented, tipping back her head as tears of embarrassment and disappointment streamed down her cheeks. She heard the distinct crunch of boots on gravel and turned to see Alucard leering over her, arms crossed and smirking amusedly. 

“Now you see why I prefer the swans,” he joked. Seras pouted up at him and smacked his leg, making him chuckle with that deep, rumbling voice of his. “Oh, don’t be like that. It was quite entertaining.” 

“For you! I thought I was going to die!” 

“Seras, you’re an immortal. A swan can’t kill you.” 

“Are you kidding? That swan had murder in its eyes, I’m telling you!” she insisted, crossing her arms with a huff and looking back to the lake. The swan was now serenely gliding over to some young children throwing dried corn into the water as if it hadn’t just tried to take a bite out of Seras’ rump just a minute before. Seras’ bottom lip wobbled as her fantastical illusion of swans crumbled before her. “How can something so pretty be so cruel?” 

“I’m sure some ghouls could ask the same thing about you,” Alucard snorted. Seras’ back straightened like a rod, and a pink blush shot up from her neck to paint her face all the way to the roots of her hair. Alucard was gazing at the swans with a wry smile. “Some of the most beautiful things on Earth are some of the most deadly.” 

“Come now, Master… Don’t tease me…” Seras groaned, hanging her head as she anticipated the inevitable punchline. However, the tall vampire only leaned down to gently pat her atop the head; as his gloved fingers nestled into her fluffy blonde hair, she felt a shiver of excitement crawl through her body. She peered up at him through her lashes to find him smiling, a rare true smile that she seldom got to see. 

“Me, tease? I would never dream of it,” he hummed before turning and heading back to the bench. Seras picked herself up, brushed the first off her stockings and skirt, and trotted over to him as he settled himself back on the bench. He tipped his hat forward to block the harsh rays of the sun, just his crooked smile poking out from underneath the brim. As Seras sat down beside him, hands pressed between her thighs, she gave him a bashful smile. 

“Do you really think I’m like a swan, Master?” 

“I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t meant it,” Alucard replied in a low voice laced with drowsiness. He stifled a yawn before tilting his head, his glowing red eye twinkling at her among his shadowy mess of dark hair. “It rather reminded me of you, running around a building screaming and flapping your arms as you hunt down ghouls…” 

“Master! You’re so mean!” she gasped and slapped his shoulder while he laughed heartily. Seras slumped into the bench, cheeks puffed out in a pout and shoulders hunched as she watched the swans. Maybe they were kind of mean, but they really did look so pretty sailing over the water and shining in the sun. “I suppose there’s nothing wrong with being pretty and fierce,” she smiled with a satisfied wiggle. Alucard grunted in agreement, dozing off beside her. 

Similarly, Seras reclined against the hot wood of the bench and closed her eyes, enjoying the kiss of the sun against her pale, undead skin. Just as she was drifting off into sleep, she recalled a line from a play she had read in grade school. 

“Though she be but little, she is fierce,” she recited sleepily. Now that she thought about it, the line served as an appropriate motto for Seras. She had always been small, the underdog in many situations, but she had always maintained a determined ferocity— for better or for worse. Like a graceful swan circling the pond of life, she was ready to meet any and all perceived threats with undaunting intemperance. A smile spread across her face as the verse continued to echo in her head and she drifted into the pleasant twilight of half-sleep. 

Though she never would have imagined she would end up like this, a servant of the strongest vampire in the world, Seras couldn’t say she regretted her choice. Though she be but little, she was fierce, and she would face even the legions of Hell to protect this beautiful little space where they could safely doze in the sun, if only for a little while.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[felixfeliciswriterblog]

Snapetober 2020 - Day 5: Sick/Fever

This was inspired by my main Snape x OFC Severitus fic, but you don’t need to read it to understand it or enjoy it ;)

Warnings: Snape throws up? Idk if that can bother someone. I don’t really describe it in depth or anything XD

Length: 2053 words.

THE PERKS OF BEING CURSED

During Potions class, Professor Snape normally walked from desk to desk, sneered at some so-called dunderheads for being incapable of following the instructions in the blackboard, and generally made sure as few accidents as possible occurred, especially when Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnigan were involved. He had started off the Erumpent Potion class that way. Fifteen minutes later, he had begun to lean on the desks and walk too slowly. By mid-class, he had given up altogether and sat at his desk, pretending to correct essays even if his quill kept slipping through his trembling fingers. Draco had been stealing glances at his teacher through it all.

“Make sure Crabbe and Goyle don’t spoil the potion,” Draco whispered to Blaise, getting off his stool.

“Where are you going?” wondered Pansy, the one in charge of noting down all the changes the unfinished potion underwent.

“To the loo.”

Both Blaise and Pansy eyed him suspiciously but still gave him a nod. Without wasting time, Draco approached his professor.

“Sir?”

This close, Draco noticed two things. First, Snape’s forehead, usually knitted into a scowl, was now glinting with sweat. Second, Snape’s face was pallid, more so than usual.

“The instructions are clear, Mr. Malfoy. Read them carefully before interrupting me,” he advised, keeping his black eyes on the parchment with barely legible handwriting.

“I’m sorry, Sir. It isn’t about the potion. I need to go to the toilet. It’s an emergency.”

There was a brief pause in which Draco held his breath.

“You may go. Do be quick, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

Draco walked along the corridors, went past the boys’ toilets, climbed up the stairs, and reached the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. The desks formed a U-shape inside of which the first-year students produced jets of red sparks from their wands, some more successful than others. As soon as he spotted Professor Skyrah, closely observing her students and taking notes to later grade their performance, Draco called her. That caught the attention not only of his teacher but also of a few students, now staring at him.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. Professor Snape’s got a message for you. A private one.”

Immediately, she beckoned Draco to approach her desk and cast a muffliato charm.

“Nobody can hear us now,” she assured him. “You may speak.”

“Did Professor Snape meet with the Dark Lord last night? He was crucioed, wasn’t he?”

With squinting eyes, she inquired, “Why are you asking?”

“Did he drink some potion against the cruciatus curse after-effects?” Her lips remained pursed. “I’ve been observing Professor Snape in class. He looks… dizzy. He can’t stand, is sweating, slightly shaking. I’m not a healer, but my father’s gone through that once or twice after drinking that potion. I’d say they’re side-effects.”

“Severus only had a bit of a headache this morning.”

“With all due respect, Professor, I didn’t risk lying to my Head of House just for his wife to think I’m making this up.”

“You lied to my husband?”

“I asked for permission to go to the toilet, but I came here instead.”

“You never go to the toilet mid-lesson… He must be truly sick if he didn’t catch that you were up to something.” She closed her eyes, took a big breath and smiled – it wasn’t the reaction Draco had expected from her. Everything fell into place when she drew circles with her wand and pronounced, “Expecto Patronum!”

The same crow he had met during his first Defence class with her flapped its wings in front of them. The students who had taken notice of Draco earlier were now gasping in awe. Draco couldn’t help but admire the crow with bitter jealousy; what he’d give to invoke a corporeal patronus someday, and maybe prove his aunt Bellatrix wrong and show her Malfoys were also capable of that.

“Argus, it’s Skyrah. Please, come to my classroom. I need you to watch over the students for me. It’s important.”

The crow flew away to deliver the message.

“I should get going, or Professor Snape will realize I’ve lied to him,” said Draco.

“He’ll realize anyway. There’s no other way I could have found out about his… state.”

“...Will you cover me up?”

“Should I?”

“I should receive House points. I may have just avoided a potions accident by telling you. The erumpent potion is quite dangerous.”

She smirked at his cheekiness. “Must I forget that you lied to your Potions teacher?”

“What was I supposed to do? Tell him that he looks like a ghost?”

“That wouldn’t have ended well,” she agreed, grinning lopsidedly. “Why didn’t you go to Poppy?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea if Madam Pomfrey knows anything about the cruciatus curse treatment. I figured that you, on the other hand…”

“Would have some experience,” she finished for him, not confirming it nor denying it.

With a swish of her wand, the muffliato charm was removed. She targeted a silver service bell on the teacher’s desk and pressed it with an uttered sonorus. The ringing noise was loud enough to command the attention of the entire class.

“Training time is over. I’m afraid my presence is required elsewhere,” she informed, standing up. A bunch of students made sounds of protest which became louder when they caught sight of the inseparable duo of Filch and Mrs. Norris. Skyrah gave the caretaker a thankful nod and addressed the students once again. “Next day we will discuss how to defend ourselves against gytrashes. For us to succeed, we first need to understand how the dark creature acts. Therefore, you ought to start reading on them right now, chapter five, and write down questions in case you have them. Argus will supervise the class. If you don't behave yourselves, I’ll know, and you won’t like the consequences.”

She shot a meaningful glance to the quartet of troublemakers of the class and left the classroom, Draco close behind her. He had to match his strides to her quick pace and fight the urge to roll his eyes at the portraits’ whines. Apparently, the click-clacking of her shoes had disrupted the sleep of those that were too lazy to do something other than napping. It was the same sound that alerted Draco’s classmates. When they saw it was Professor Skyrah, accompanied by Draco, whispers filled the potions classroom. Severus didn’t react until Skyrah and Draco were standing right in front of his desk. Even then, he raised his head slowly, grimacing.

“Mr. Malfoy, I see your supposedly short trip to the toilet has become an expedition of sorts. Ten points from Sl–”

“If you deduct points, I’ll give them back.” She paused to cast the muffliato charm again and have a private conversation, even if they were the center of attention. “You look horrible.”

“You’re the very definition of ‘flatterer’.”

“It isn’t the time to be sarcastic, Severus. You can’t teach in this state, much less a highly explosive potion. It is a matter of safety. Draco did well by telling me you’re sick.”

“I’ve kept the class safe. There haven’t been any incidents.”

“Pure luck.”

Sick as he felt, it didn’t escape his notice how Draco bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing.

“Did you come to scold me in front of our students?” asked Severus.

She gave him a mischievous smile and turned to face the class after canceling the effects of the muffliato charm. 

“Class dismissed.”

“But we’ve almost fi–”

She cut Pansy off, “I won’t repeat it.”

Pansy and a few students – including Hermione – pouted and sighed. The majority were happy to tidy up and go, though. Draco was part of the latter group and left as soon as Skyrah thanked him. In contrast, Harry locked eyes with Skyrah, concerned, but did as the rest of his classmates after receiving a reassuring nod. The Snapes didn’t doubt that they’d be getting a visit from him after classes.

“I don’t think you have a fever,” she said, putting her hand on Severus’s forehead. He responded by leaning into her hand. Now that no students remained in the classroom, a moment of weakness was permitted, or so he told himself. “Draco mentioned you can't stand. I’ll levitate you and bring you to the Hospital Wing, all right?”

“Don’t. My stomach… I can’t handle it.”

She slithered her palm from his forehead to his cheek. The caresses were as gentle as her voice when she said, “Why did you tell me you only had a headache this morning?”

“I didn’t feel so unwell.”

“Yet when that changed, you continued with the class.”

“Interrupting it wasn’t wise. The ingredients are expensive. Now the money plus the potions the students were brewing have gone to waste. Albus won’t be pleased.”

“You’re right. He won’t be pleased to know you prioritize money over your health. You can resume the lesson another day, Severus. Lean on me now. I’ll take you to our chambers; they’re closer than the Hospital Wing.”

Along the way, he grunted and almost fell when he tried to prove he was fine enough to walk on his own. The only reason he didn’t was that he had miraculously grabbed the arm of one of the suits of armor that decorated the corridors. Thank Merlin no students were nearby... nor Minerva. His reputation as the bat of the dungeons would have suffered. Finally, she whispered the password and the door opened for them. 

“Hang on, Severus. I’ll help you get into bed.”

“No. Not yet. I think I’m going to vomit.”

She would have kissed his temple if it weren’t for the urgency in his tone.  Even if clumsily, they made it to the bathroom. She helped him kneel by the toilet and rubbed his back soothingly, holding his hair for him until his stomach was empty.

“I’m sorry,” he said, breathing harshly and refusing to look at her.

“For what?”

“This has been excruciatingly embarrassing and disgusting.”

“You’ve done this for me countless times, Severus. It’s okay for the roles to be reversed now and then.” By his tense shoulders, he was thinking about the miscarriage. So was she, for her voice had shaken and her hand had drifted to the place they used to feel their unborn daughter. “Can you brush your teeth?”

“Yes.”

“All right. I’ll send Poppy a message. She shouldn’t take long.”

“There’s nothing she can do. I’ve been through this before. It’ll go away after getting some sleep. The potion must have reacted poorly to my breakfast, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?” she asked worriedly, her wand ready to invoke her patronus once more.

“Absolutely.”

“All right… Do you need anything?”

“Some water, perhaps.”

So while he brushed his teeth, she summoned a glass from their kitchen and filled it with a simple aguamenti. Severus drank its water and left the glass by the sink. 

Soon, he was under the silky bedsheets, surrounded by the pillows she had adjusted for him after contacting the headmaster via the school floo network to explain the situation and advise him to seek a substitute for the upcoming lessons.

“How are you feeling?” she wondered, running her hands through his bare chest. She was lying by his side, with her head on his shoulder.

“Not fine yet, but better.” Skyrah nuzzled her head into him and hooked her leg around him. “You shouldn’t get comfortable. You’ve got a class to teach.”

“I’ve got a stubborn husband to take care of.”

“I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“Too bad. I won’t move until you start snoring.”

He groaned, exasperated, though his grip on her became just a tiny bit firmer. Skyrah missed his feeble grin, too busy playing with his chest hair and kissing his scarred skin.

“I may not need you to take care of me, but I don’t dislike it.”

“I know, my snarky Potions Master,” she said, chuckling softly. If he went as far as confessing that, it could only mean he was so exhausted he could no longer control what went past his lips. “Rest now.”

He complied, thinking he owed Draco. Vomiting in front of his students would have been a fate worse than cuddling with his wife. That was a fact.

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A/N: I probably wouldn’t have been able to post this on time if it had been betaed, so I apologize for any possible mistakes you may have encountered. I did my best.

If you liked it, you can read the main fic here: AO3, FFN. 

Have a nice day, y’all! And thanks for taking the time to read this little fic :) If you’re feeling sick, remember to take care of yourself <3

[multifandom--imagine]

The beauty & the beast || (borra x fem!reader)

tag list: thisishirathesecond , ateliefloresdaprimavera

(sorry for the possible errors)

Oflaria is one of the most flourishing and prestigious kingdoms. Gathered profiques, always full of tourists and spices from all over the world, every month we always celebrate some festivals, people are happy and always meet in the square to dance and sing.

King Constantine, your father, has brought forth this region with much effort but all have borne fruit. And you, her daughter, were proud to know that one day you would rule that prestigious territory following your father's example. There was only one small problem, a prince needed a male figure, however many her skills were. And this concept proprionon did not want to get into your head. You? With a weakling prince? No way! It was a morning like any other when your sleep was interrupted by your maid who gently woke you. "My lady, wake up, today is a big busy day" said the old lady. You munched as you stretched yourself abandoning your lavish bed. "Commitments? I didn't remember having commitments" you said, puzzled. "Your father has prepared a surprise for you, he said you will be amazed!" exclaimed the old lady helping you dress. "A surprise?" you asked enthusiastically, who knows what the king will have in store for you. Maybe a new horse? Or finally fencing lessons?

You tried to prepare yourself as quickly as possible and with great strides you started towards the throne room, where you met your father sitting in his usual place.

"Father! I knew you prepared a big surprise for me" you exclaimed taking his old hands, the old king nodded with a kind smile.

"Oh yes you will see, it is not refused this time" requested King Constantine "I have received word that you have a great interest in exploring new places besides our kingdom, isn't it?" He asked.

"Don't tell me! Did you build me a ship to travel?" You asked not being in the skin anymore for the emotion.

"Oh even better my little flower, guards let the guests in" your father ordered, as you heard the doors of the room open, you turned to look at who these new people are, but your smile died within seconds when you were presented with two winged monsters.

"Dad...who are these?" I ask about the tone of the ear with a flexible tone for your impromptu panic.

"Well darling, do you remember when at dinner he tells you about the rhythm that Queen Aurora had established with the Moors?" You nod "Well I decided that friendly relations with these creatures is a very wise and generous act and they agreed to visit" Explained your father.

"My lord, I am Conall and he is Borra" said the dark-skinned winged man bowing elegantly, a difference from the other who made a meager gesture with his head. He didn't reassure you his eyes were too hard and fierce, as if he had been forced to come and visit you. Conall, on the other hand, transmitted the opposite emotions, or was very good at pretending.

"Nice to have you here with us, as you know I am King Constantine and this beautiful girl is my daughter, (y/n)" said the king, pointing at your figure, thus leading the gaze of those present to you. Borra's dark and vivid eyes pierced you like a blow, letting your body shudder.

"Please, follow us into the dining room, there is nothing more pleasant than discussing business over a good brunch" said the king, rising from his throne and followed by a wheel from you and the two guests. There was absolute silence, but one thing that surely captured your hearing was the question that Borra whispered to Conall, it was in that instant that you heard his hoarse and dark tone for the first time.

"What the hell is a brunch?" He asked almost awkwardly.

"I don't know, let's go along without making too many complaints" reported the comparison calmly.

Arrived at a huge terrace covered with a floral gazebo you were about to sit at the big table, full of various delicacies. Needless to say, the two guests had a hard time sitting down with those big wings that came together, and this made you hide a small smile. You noticed puzzled that the cutlery had been changed with the ceramic ones and looking at your father he sensed. "See darling, I preferred to change the dishes with materials that would not endanger the lives of our guests, unfortunately the iron can hurt them" explained the king.

"I see, well the iron cutlery rusts right away and they aren't all that elegant" you said as you started to drink some tea.

"Well then, I am sorry that your Mrs. Maleficent could not have come here, but I am still happy to have welcomed you warriors. In the letter I sent her I explained to her that in my opinion there would have been a more solid pact than a marriage to seal peace" you listened to the words of your father, who had decided to marry Maleficent, after his years without you mother? "And that's why my daughter will marry a noble warrior, and to imagine from the name mentioned in the letter, I suppose it's you, Borra, my daughter's future husband" your father exclaimed enthusiastically.

Not even the time to finish the sentence that you spit your tea all over the table in shock, while Borra nodded and suddenly he was petrified.

For what absurd reason did Maleficent not warn him?!

"Don't talk about it, Father! You have proposed me to hundreds of young princes, it will not be this...winged man to have my hand!" You exclaimed in a rage and getting up from the table “I will have a progeny of winged monsters, your grandchildren will have horns and wings! Do you realize the absurdity?” You asked while Borra feeling himself taken into consideration, he got up in turn growling threateningly.

"How dare you? I at least know how to defend myself, I don't need armor to fight" he said, flapping his hands on the table “and did you ever mirror yourself? you look like a...” but he was interrupted by Conall who gave him a reproachful look.

"I will never marry anyone! I don't need a man to rule, father! and if you have not understood it all these years, then I go away and I will build a kingdom of my own, with my only strengths” you said as you ran out of the terrace, as you heard the screams of the king who begged for your return.

You quickly changed getting rid of your princely dress and wearing the right clothing to ride, you then started towards the stable and riding on your steed, you passed the castle walls and your vast city looking for a quiet place to stop the night.

Rode without stopping for many miles, you had crossed much of the forest and when night fell you camped in a cave that overlooked the banks of a small lake. It was really difficult to light a fire powerful enough to cook that miserable fish you were able to catch. The wild life seemed easier and heroic in the books of myths, but apparently it was just dirty and tiring. Also it was quite cold and your cape was not very successful in trying to warm you up.

It all seemed pretty quiet, until Solomon, your horse didn't start to get nervous, like there was something around.

"Hey my friend, what's wrong?" You asked shortly before a strong blow to the head stunned you for a few moments, the right time to grab you and tie your wrists with a rope. Someone dragged you and made you fall badly into the cold cave.

"Who are you? and what do you want from me?” you shouted trying to look threatening, the little flame that cooked your dinner, lit up just three male figures. Surely they were three bandits.

"Give us all your money, wanderer!" Ordered one of them "Tell us where you have your money or I swear I'll slit your throat with this knife!" Another said, showing a dagger from his pocket, making you scare.

"I swear to you, I have nothing, I only live on what nature gives me" you replied trying not to look terrified, but your trembling voice didn't play in your favor. The man who had a dagger in his hand, approached your figure and approached to attack your neck, he stopped shortly before the blade rubbed your silky skin.

"Let me be beaten guys" the bandit told his colleagues with a mischievous tone, "We have the princess of Ophlaria in front of us" she announced theatrically as the others laughed.

"Take your hands off me, you filthy worm" you screamed, pecking at a powerful fist on the lip that caused a blow to your head to account for the rocky terrain. Your senses became more and more muffled but you could still have the annoying sensation of pain on your slightly bloody mouth.

"This night we won't have the money, but we could have fun with this sweet princess. They will pay a very high ransom for your pretty face" proposed one of the bandits laughing in a squalid way.

"I start with her first, then it will be yours as soon as I feel quite satisfied. I wonder if it's true that the princess is still pure?" said the man who had beaten you, starting to tear your shirt with his dagger.

"No Please! Do not touch me! I said don't touch me!” You screamed desperately as your eyes filled with tears, was this really the end you should have met? Was this the punishment you deserved after refusing your duty to marry you?

You closed your eyes in terror, not having enough guts to look at that disgusting scene in your face, but all of a sudden some unsheathed screams caught your attention. With the little strength left open in two slits the eyes and all that presented itself before you was as fast as the wake of a comet.

The two men on the sidelines had been captured by enormous thorny roots, which crushed them until they broke bones after bones. As for your cruel molester, he was lifted off the ground slowly, by a hand that grabbed his neck with a lethal grip. A winged figure looked him straight in the eye and after throwing a monstrous snarl he whispered "If you only think you can hurt the princess, you will first have to overcome my corpse" after which the neck of the last bandit remained broke with a simple movement of wrist.

Your fragile and trembling body was still on the ground, intent on observing the figure of your savior, who approached you, and gently grasping your body, made you sit with your back to a wall of the cave. Only then did you recognize Borra's hollow face, lit by the soft flame of the fire.

"You ..." you whispered confused.

"I see that your plan to create a new kingdom is proceeding perfectly," the cuckold replied sarcastically, raising his eyebrows in exasperation.

"Fuck you" you whispered with the little voice left. You hated to admit your defeat.

"A thank you would be more aristocratic on your part," he replied with a small growl. Then put his gaze on your lower lip, swollen and injured. You perceive the rough but at the same time warm palm of one of his hands resting on one side of your face, while a thumb was trying to take away the blood that was dripping in excess "A man should never get his hands on a defenseless woman, nobody should take it out on those who can't protect themselves ... that's why I hate the nature of you humans "Borra commented dejectedly and somehow his words hit you.

A being like him could immediately give the impression of a beast, of a bad and heartless being, and yet, although you had insulted him, he had saved you, from those you would have called subjects. Your attention shifted again to Borra's face, which had moistened his thumb with his saliva and was about to lean on your wound on his lip.

"For all the heavens! What are you doing ?! ”you asked in disgust, moving away from his hands.

"I'm trying to disinfect your wound, since you don't even have medicinal herbs with you, idiot!" Borra tried to justify himself, realizing that he had not yet untied his wrists and without even using so much strength, he broke the rope that you imprisons, also noticing your slightly reddened wrists.

"How ... how did you manage to find me?" You asked still bewildered as you rubbed your aching wrists, Borra let out a proud and proud smile.

"I've never lost sight of you, at least until you've entered the cave. I would never have left you alone in this world, "the boy explained.

"Did you prepare this sentence?" You asked raising an eyebrow almost in order to tease him. But he didn't particularly appreciate it.

"Do you want to keep joking, princess?" The blonde asked menacingly "I flew far and wide, I killed people for you and I'm taking care of you!" He added reproachfully.

"Because if you hate humans, then why did you do all this? Probably because you want to look good with my father? Surely now you have the throne insured "you replied stinging.

"Your throne would burn it quietly, it is not the riches that interest me!" Said Borra "For years I have been blinded by anger and revenge. But during the war in Ulstead I met death and pity, and I realized that there may be some humans worth fighting for, so it's worth protecting..." the boy explained, looking you straight in the eye and only in that moment you realized that the distance between your faces was only a few centimeters "Obviously ... for you the phrase <<there are humans that are worth loving>> is not even a day from our meeting and you already make me damn , monkey" he said, moving away, knowing perfectly well that his tone would tickle you as needed.

"THEN IT'S SO THAT YOU WANTED TO CALL ME TODAY! Before your friend stopped you" you exclaimed indignantly, advancing on his figure, who turned his back to you, but as soon as you were ready to throw a" punch "at him, Borra turned abruptly and took you by his hips and leaned on his shoulder like a potato sack.

"Let's make a deal, when we get home I'll teach you how to fight, so we'll try to blanch your spiteful little monkey spiteful" Dark Fae offered with a little laugh.

"As long as I teach you something to improve your bear-like bearing" you said, trying to squeeze out of his grip with little success.

"Oh now you are back the princess all right and delicate? And where is my little monkey that sends me to fuck me, instead of thanking me?" Borra asked, holding back a laugh while grabbing the bridle of your horse he accompanied you to the way back, while the woods were covered with your voices that were teasing each other.

[rvnclwrites]

Romania 1999 Pt 3 (Charlie Weasley x Female MC)

Summary: AU where MC is an American who attended the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry instead of Hogwarts. Set eight years post graduation (1999) when she finally gets the nerve to travel abroad and follow her dream to be a Dragonologist in Romania. Check out my master list for parts 1 and 2.

Notes: So first of all, I suck and this is set eight years post graduation not nine. I for some reason had a stroke when I wrote part 1 and thought MC graduated in 1990 instead of 91. Oops. Also, I couldn't find any info on whether magical creatures can see Thestrals or what the rules are so what I wrote may not be accurate, but it worked for my plot line so idc lol.

Word Count: ~8000 (No, I’m not kidding. Sorry not sorry 😅)

(Y/N) had started visiting the owlery nearly every morning the following week in hopes of hearing back from one of her friends. Finally on Wednesday, her heart leapt as she cracked open the door and saw Pearl, one of the Sanctuary's beautiful barn owls, with a letter addressed to (Y/N) clamped in her beak. She tore into the envelope as fast as her fingers would allow, leaning against the cool concrete ledge behind her as she began to read.

(Y/N),

I am so proud of you!! I can't believe you're actually in Romania. I don't know what gave you the final push to make the move, but I am SO glad you did. I think this will be great for you, especially considering it's the one job you've talked about since we were third years. How long do you plan on staying? I hope indefinitely- if anyone deserves a place to settle down it's you.

Sorry it took so long for me to get back to you. Things have been hectic since I took on this new teaching job. Can you believe I'm actually a potions professor? Professor Haywood does have a nice ring to it if I do say so myself. Don't worry though, I still have plenty of time for my shop on the weekends. Just let me know if you need any Felix Felicis to help you take on those crazy beasts you're working with. (Or perhaps a small vial of Amortentia if settling down is actually a possibility?? Only joking… sort of.) How's everything been at the Sanctuary so far?

I miss you so much and hope to hear back from you soon. Bea sends her love too!

Love, Penny

(Y/N) sighed as she finished reading, drawing the parchment against her chest. It was nice to know Penny was proud of her. The beautiful blonde had always known what she wanted to do and had her life as a Potioneer planned out since their very first day at Ilvermorny. (Y/N), on the other hand, had been interested in so many different careers in the wizarding world she struggled when it came to narrowing down her options and feeling confident with her decision. Funny how that ended up working in her favor with the way everything turned out...

(Y/N) shook her head clear, not wanting to think about that right now. Reaching out, she stroked Pearl affectionately, realizing this was her first encounter with a magical creature that wasn't a dragon in over two weeks. That was (Y/N)'s only complaint about working at the Sanctuary so far. She was well aware before she accepted the job that owls and Thestrals were the only other creatures permitted on the grounds, but it was an adjustment after having spent nearly two years bonding with all the different creatures back at the Reserve. (Y/N) frowned, feeling the ache in her chest grow, and decided she would have to write back to Penny later. Right now she needed a reminder of just how much she enjoyed being here at the Sanctuary, and maybe she could visit the Thestrals later.

Working alongside Charlie and Hank did just the trick at first. She had purposefully worked through the next two days to keep herself distracted, and it was working fine until now. (Y/N) stilled as Ventus bowed his head to her and flapped his green wings once, creating an all too vivid parallel in (Y/N)'s mind with her favorite Hippogriff back at the Reserve.

"Hello? Earth to (Y/N)?" Hank said, waving a hand in front of her face.

(Y/N) pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to ease the sudden pounding in her head. "Sorry, what'd you say?"

"I said I think Ventus here is growing quite fond of you."

(Y/N) forced a smile, admiring the dragon in front of her. "Yeah. Probably helps that he's the nicest one of the bunch." She felt Hank's inquisitive gaze linger on her for longer than she felt comfortable with, so she added, "We should probably get back down for dinner."

Both Charlie and Hank agreed, and the trio followed the path back to the village, joining Scott at their usual picnic table.

"Did you hear that the Wasps got owned by Puddlemere yesterday?" Scott asked as he piled his plate with a second helping of mashed potatoes.

Hank snorted. "No surprise there. I would'a bet twenty galleons on it with how rubbish Wimbourne has been this year." The forty-three year old who had already downed his dinner grabbed a piece of pie from the tray. "Hey Charlie, didn't you play with some bloke on Puddlemere's team?"

Charlie, who was seated beside (Y/N), nodded. "Oliver Wood. He became captain for Gryffindor after I left. Pretty good Keeper."

"Wait, isn't your friend Andre a Keeper too?" Scott asked.

"For Pride of Portree, yeah."

"Bloody hell," Hank said through a mouthful of pie, "and your sister may start playing for the Harpies? With all these connections, you better damn well get us tickets to the next World Cup."

The men carried on with the Quidditch conversation, but (Y/N) was distracted by the mention of Charlie's sister. So far she had only caught wind of a brother named Bill, and now an unnamed sister, presumably younger if she's just now joining the Harpies. Since (Y/N) didn't want to ask about anyone's family outright, she had resorted to making mental notes whenever something was mentioned. Hank had a sister named Chloe, but Scott had never mentioned family, only a friend named Steven.

"How's Andre doing?" Scott asked. "He should come visit again sometime."

"I haven't seen him in awhile actually. I'll probably send him an owl when I go home for Christmas."

(Y/N)'s stomach lurched at the thought of going home for the holidays. She hoped it wasn't uncommon for people to stay here around Christmastime.

"Awh man, you're going home this year?" Hank asked, disappointment etched on his face. "I was hoping Molly and Arthur were gonna come back here for a change. We haven't seen 'em since your siblings stayed at Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament."

Molly and Arthur, (Y/N) repeated in her head, adding who she presumed to be Charlie's parents to her mental list. She was surprised to find herself a little disappointed too. She would have liked to meet them.

"Seriously, that cake she made was the best I've ever had," Scott added, patting his stomach. "Plus it's always fun to get the scoop on Charles' childhood."

So his parents were still together and his mom was a great baker, maybe even a housewife since he apparently had so many siblings. From the sound of it, Charlie seemed to have a big, happy family. Of course he did.

"Are your parents gonna visit, (Y/N)?" Scott asked as he refilled his glass of Pumpkin Juice.

An anxious chill scattered across (Y/N)'s neck, traveling all the way down her back and legs. She hoped to God she didn't look as alarmed as she felt, and she shrugged in an attempt to ease some of the tension between her shoulders. "No, my parents and I aren't that close." She kept her tone casual, not wanting anyone to think it was a big deal. "But I'm sure my friends will sometime," she added for good measure. Even though her parents would never come here, Penny, Rowan, Barnaby or Jae might visit her someday.

"Don't you have any siblings that wanna come?" Hank asked, forking the last of his pie into his mouth.

(Y/N) stilled, feeling the color drain from her face. She shouldn't have been surprised. In all honesty, she was more surprised she had managed to make it this long without it coming up. For a split second, she considered lying- it's not like they would know the difference if she said she was an only child. But these guys were her friends, and she didn't want to lie to them.

Swallowing, (Y/N) looked down at her plate and scooped the last of her mashed potatoes onto her spoon. "Unfortunately my brother passed away several years ago."

"Oh shit," Hank said, his blue eyes going wide. "Sorry to hear that."

(Y/N) offered a smile, not wanting anyone to feel uncomfortable. That was always the worst part. "Don't worry about it. It was a long time ago."

Hank wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Were you two close?"

"About as close as your average siblings. We loved each other but did our fair share of arguing," (Y/N) said with a laugh. To her relief, Hank and Scott joined in laughing.

"Chloe and I used to torment each other all the time," Hank began before diving into a story of the best prank he ever pulled on his younger sister. (Y/N) let out a breath, grateful that they hadn't made a big deal of it. She was surprised, however, when she turned and found a certain dragon lover's gaze piercing right through her. Had Charlie been staring at her this whole time? Why was he looking at her like that?

(Y/N) kept her focus on Hank and Scott but could feel the redhead's eyes on her for the remainder of dinner. As Hank got to his feet, (Y/N) quickly followed, feeling oddly vulnerable. She desperately hoped her mentor wasn't about to start treating her differently- or worse, about to start asking questions.

"Anyone up for a game of Gobstones or Wizard Chess?" Scott asked, downing the last of his Pumpkin Juice. When his eyes flicked to (Y/N)'s, she shook her head.

"Sorry, but I'm actually going to fly for a bit before it gets too dark. I'll be up in the west wing if you guys need me."

Hank and Scott waved as (Y/N) went to retrieve one of the brooms from the storage shed by Aro. She made a point to not look at Charlie, not wanting to know if the confusing redhead was still staring at her like that.

As (Y/N) disappeared up the hill, Charlie reflexively glanced toward the west wing, the winding pathway and herds of workers just barely visible in the distance.

"Would you look at that," Hank said, stepping up beside him. "Yet another thing in common. You're running out of excuses, Weasley."

Charlie remained silent. He hated whenever Hank was right.

"That nagging voice in the back of your head asking if you should go talk to her?" Hank continued, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, you should try listening to that for a change."

-

(Y/N) loved flying, but the real reason she was heading to the west wing was to see the Thestrals. The manufacturing team used them to pull carts and even flew on them occasionally since dragons couldn't see them.

As the creatures' resting spot came into view, (Y/N) lowered her broom handle, dismounting gracefully onto the secluded clearing. The area was easily one of the most beautiful and serene that (Y/N) had found at the Sanctuary so far. The sound of water from the creek greeted her ears, the steady stream leading into a dense forest ahead. Not many dragonologists seemed to approach the Thestrals when they were off duty. Whether it was because her coworkers couldn't see them or because of the bad omen myths about them, (Y/N) wasn't sure, but she was more than grateful for it.

Five Thestrals were there, two laying in the grass while the other three stood idly by, stomping their hooves and flapping their bat-like wings occasionally. (Y/N) didn't hesitate to approach the nearest one, watching closely for any sign of protest before stroking it's long, bony muzzle. The Thestral nuzzled his head against her hand, and that emptiness in (Y/N)'s chest vanished in an instant.

She stayed there for awhile, sitting in the grass and petting the creature, letting her mind wander to the Reserve for the first time since she'd been there.

"There you are."

(Y/N) whipped around, startled from her reverie and even more startled to see Charlie come into view, the matching Nimbus 2008 clutched in his right hand.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, assuming one of the dragons needed help for the redhead to come looking for her. "Norberta's wound didn't break open again, did it?"

"No, she's fine." He set the broom down beside hers and pushed his messy hair back away from his face. "Mind if I sit?"

(Y/N) blinked at him, wondering momentarily if she had fallen asleep and was dreaming- not that she had ever dreamed about dragon boy before. "Uh no, of course not."

He sat beside her, resting his forearms on his knees, and (Y/N) became far too aware of just how close he was. Sure, Charlie usually sat by her at the picnic table now ever since their trip to the pub, but it was a big table with plenty of room between the two. As (Y/N) stared down at the redhead's beat up jeans, she estimated less than seven inches between their legs.

"So why'd you come here?" Charlie asked, reaching forward and running a hand along the Thestral's back. "I could have sworn you'd be up on the landing. Took me awhile to spot you down here."

(Y/N) blinked again, her eyes following his hand before darting up to meet his curious gaze. He could see them. He could see the Thestrals. She bit the inside of her cheek hard, using all of her willpower to stay silent. She wanted to know more than anything, but how do you politely ask someone who they had seen die? You didn't.

"I like visiting the Thestrals," she admitted, glancing back to the creature resting on the ground. "Don't get me wrong, I love dragons, but it's an adjustment only seeing one type of creature everyday." (Y/N) frowned as the image of her Hippogriff returned to her mind. "I, uh, left a lot of creatures back in America."

"Oh. Do you miss home?"

A scoff fell from (Y/N)'s mouth before she could stop it. As far as she was concerned, home was wherever she was working, meaning the Sanctuary was her home now. She looked up at Charlie and wasn't sure why, but something in those big brown eyes made her confide in him. "This is my home now. Closest thing I've got to one anyway."

Unmistakable sadness flashed across Charlie's features. His eyes were fixed on the Thestral, but (Y/N) could tell his mind was elsewhere. "I lost one of my brothers too," he said quietly.

(Y/N)'s attention snapped back to Charlie and guilt swirled around in her stomach as she recalled her earlier assumption. A big, happy family. No wonder Charlie had been staring at her earlier. He may have had a bigger family, but it was broken just like hers.

"Oh." Her mind filled with questions, but (Y/N) knew the first one to ask. "What was his name?"

"Fred." He went quiet for a moment, and (Y/N) understood- she struggled saying her brother's name for an entire year after losing him. "Yours?"

"Jacob." She waited a minute before asking another question, not wanting to overwhelm him. "Was he older or younger?"

"Younger." The redhead rubbed his forehead with his palm before saying, "He and my brother George were twins. I can't even imagine what he's going through."

(Y/N)'s insides twisted, not only at the inconceivable thought of losing a twin, but also at Charlie's choice of words. I can't even imagine what he's going through. How recently had Fred died? "Can I ask what happened?"

Charlie looked down at her, and the sadness in those eyes made (Y/N)'s heart crumple. "Battle of Hogwarts."

(Y/N) sucked in a breath, her jaw dropping slightly. It had only been a little over a year since the battle. She had read about it of course. Even in America, Voldemort's defeat was all people talked about for months. After Grindelwald, Ilvermorny ensured students knew about Harry Potter and the history of one of the darkest wizards of all time for fear of him invading America. But she had never imagined coming so close to it all. Charlie's brother was amongst the fallen who had fought and died for the rest of the wizarding world. She suddenly felt stupid for not putting the pieces together sooner. Charlie had gone to Hogwarts after all. "Did you fight in the battle too?"

The redhead nodded. "My whole family did."

(Y/N)'s gaze flicked back and forth between the Thestral and Charlie. "That's why you can see them," she whispered, reaching a hand out to stroke the creature's muzzle again. "Did you see him- I mean did you see Fred-" (Y/N)'s voice cracked and she looked away, blinking away the tears gathering in her eyes. She hoped he knew what she meant because she didn't think she could get the words out.

"No," he said, and a wave of relief washed through her. "I saw a lot of people die that day, but not my brother. I came in halfway through. I didn't even know he had died until it was all over."

(Y/N) fell silent, unsure of what to say, before deciding to take a risk. She placed her hand on top of his forearm and squeezed, letting her thumb brush comfortingly across his smooth, freckled skin. "I'm really sorry. It's one of the worst feelings in the world and I know nothing I say will make it any better."

Charlie attempted a smile. "You sure? Because talking to you has made it a little better."

It was possibly the worst thing he could have said to her. Butterflies gathered in her stomach and she pulled her hand back, feeling stupider than ever as a smile tried to reach her lips. This conversation was definitely not helping her put an end to the idiotic crush she had begun developing for the redhead.

To make matters even worse, Charlie nudged the side of her knee with his own, causing a cluster of goosebumps to break out down her leg. "Your turn," he said, nodding towards the Thestral.

(Y/N) knew what he meant, but the answer approached dangerous territory. She didn't want to tell him anything, but how could she not after Charlie had finally opened up to her? She just wouldn't tell him the full story.

"My brother was a Curse-Breaker," (Y/N) started, continuing to pet the Thestral. "He went missing while he was at Ilvermorny, and I started looking for him once I got there. It took me awhile to find him, but I eventually did." (Y/N) let out a breath, trying her best to keep the flashbacks from her mind. "But he wasn't the same. He was obsessed with these Cursed Vaults around Ilvermorny and the last one killed him."

Charlie's forehead creased with worry. "You saw him die?"

(Y/N) nodded. "I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen. By the time I caught up with him-" (Y/N) broke off and cleared her throat. "Let's just say I wish I hadn't." The sound of thunder began pounding in her ears, and she shut her eyes, giving her head a slight shake as she forced the miserable memory away.

"Life really isn't fair sometimes," he muttered.

"No. But I still think everything happens for a reason."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

Charlie let out a sigh, and he was quiet for another moment before whispering, "Does it ever get any easier?"

She looked up at him, wanting him to see the honesty in her eyes as she nodded. "Yeah, it does."

"Good. I'm sorry about your brother, and I'm sorry you had to leave all those creatures behind. I couldn't imagine leaving these dragons."

(Y/N) smiled. "You guys make it a little easier."

That brought a smile to the redhead's face, one of his genuine ones that lit up his eyes and tugged on (Y/N)'s heart. "What creature do you miss the most?"

(Y/N) frowned. "My Hippogriff Sirius. I'd never admit it to the other creatures, but Hippogriffs have always been one of my favorites."

"Sirius?"

She internally cursed herself for mentioning the Hippogriff's name. "Uh, after Sirius Black. I was a bit obsessed with him when his whole story came out. Couldn't imagine being in Azkaban for twelve years as an innocent wizard."

Charlie laughed. "I'm technically related to him."

(Y/N) blinked at him, completely astounded. "What?"

"My dad's mom was a Black."

"Oh," (Y/N) muttered, feeling suddenly embarrassed for some reason. "Small world."

"Yeah, I never got to meet him, but my siblings did because of the Order of the Phoenix and since he was Harry's godfather."

"You mean Harry Potter?" (Y/N) asked rhetorically. She knew that's who he meant because it had been all over the papers how tragic it was that Sirius never got a chance to be the father figure that Harry Potter deserved, but she couldn't resist a laugh. "You talk about him like you're friends."

Charlie seemed the least bit fazed by this. "Well, he is my brother Ron's best friend and has been dating my sister for over two years."

"What?" (Y/N) gaped at him, completely dumbfounded. "You mean the Harry Potter might be your brother-in-law one day and I'm just now hearing about it?"

Charlie laughed. "Sorry, I'm so used to him hanging around my family I forget how some wizards see him."

(Y/N) wanted to understand where he was coming from but just couldn't. It was Harry Freaking Potter they were talking about. That would be like saying meeting Newt Scamander was no big deal. She shook her head, still bewildered. "You're insane."

The pair sat there for a little longer as the sun began to set. When Charlie remained quiet, (Y/N) gave into the question that had been nagging at her since he had told her about Fred. "So does this mean we're friends now? Because to be honest, I feel like I've been getting mixed signals for the past two months."

"Sorry about that," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hank's been telling me for weeks I need to get over it, but ever since Fred died it's been hard to let people in."

"A lot of people don't understand," (Y/N) said empathetically. "Nobody, not even my friends, knew how to act around me after my brother died."

"Yeah," Charlie agreed, a sad smile reaching his lips. "It's nice to finally have someone who gets it. And yeah, I'd say we're friends now."

(Y/N) smiled, feeling jitters dance around her stomach. She paused for a moment before peering up at him. "Well then as your friend, can I ask you a personal question?"

Charlie's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What?"

"So I know you love dragons and all, but you're not like into them, are you?" She bit back laughter at the look on the redhead's face.

He shook his head, laughing a bit too. "Funny. Real funny. Did Hank tell you to ask me that?"

"No…" She bit her lip, unsure how truthful she should be. "A certain blonde may have accused you of being more attracted to dragons than women."

The redhead rolled his eyes but didn't seem the least bit offended. "I swear my dating life- or lack thereof- has been of more interest to people around here than I would have ever imagined."

(Y/N) laughed, and luckily stopped herself from saying, "Can you blame them?" The last thing she was going to do was to admit to Charlie just how good looking and talented he was. "You don't have to talk about it. It's really nobody's business."

Charlie shrugged. "There's just not much to tell. I was pretty much consumed by dragons at Hogwarts. I didn't even have a crush on anyone until my last year."

That wasn't weird. People were allowed to be picky or have other priorities. "Did you two end up dating?"

"Yeah. But it was pretty stupid because I knew I was going to Romania and she was staying close to home."

"Ah."

"So then I came here and was primarily focused on work. And it's not like there was an abundance of options around."

(Y/N) nodded slowly, arguing internally on whether or not to ask the next thought that popped into her head. After a moment, she decided to go for it. "And what about Sydney?"

Charlie shrugged again. "She's nice, I just never felt comfortable around her. She didn't really understand the whole dragon obsession. This is just a job for her. Probably why she made that comment."

(Y/N) wanted to ask if he felt comfortable around her but realized how it would sound in that context. The last thing she wanted was for Charlie to think she was flirting with him. She was not about to ruin their new friendship. "Well, she doesn't know what she's missing. This has easily been the best job I've ever had."

"How many have you had?" Charlie said with a laugh, sounding surprised. "I thought you were a Magizoologist before this?"

(Y/N)'s smile faltered. "I was, but only for the last two years. I, uh, moved around a lot after my brother died. Had quite a few different jobs after graduation."

"Like what?"

"Healer, Potioneer, Wandmaker, and a couple others," (Y/N) muttered with a shrug.

"But you graduated the same year I did. Did you really have a new job every year?"

(Y/N) felt nervous being put on the spot. "No, I told you I spent two years at the Reserve." She elbowed him playfully in attempt to lighten the mood, but he frowned.

"So the longest you've ever stayed somewhere is two years? Does that mean…" Charlie didn't finish the sentence but he didn't have to.

Stomach acid churned in (Y/N)'s belly at the thought of leaving the Sanctuary. "I don't know to be honest. Like I said, this is the best job I've ever had, so you might have a harder time getting rid of me."

This seemed to reassure the redhead. He smiled at her, and (Y/N) knew she was doomed because all she could think about was that it seemed like Charlie didn't want her to leave, and that thought made her way happier than it should have.

Eyeing the darkening sky, Charlie said, "Race you back to the village?" Before she even responded, he was standing up and picking up his broom.

"Hey, you cheater!" (Y/N) called as the redhead kicked off the ground just as she reached her broom. She darted up after him, heading back home, and couldn't help but think that this was going to be the start of one of the best friendships she would ever have.

-

October and November came and went even faster than the previous months, and (Y/N) couldn't believe how much fun she was having with team. She felt entirely comfortable around all of them now and hung out with Charlie all the time. She was sure, however, to set specific boundaries for herself, not wanting her ridiculous crush to get out of hand. She was hoping it would disappear altogether soon enough and there would be nothing to worry about.

When the first snowfall of the season came one December morning, (Y/N) couldn't wait to visit the dragons and see just how glorious the Sanctuary's scenery looked.

"Hurry up," she groaned as Scott and Hank took longer than usual to get going. Charlie, on the other hand, didn’t disappoint and seemed as ready as he always was. He was definitely a morning person.

"I thought we agreed to start later in the winter," Scott grumbled mid yawn, pulling a hat onto his head and rubbing his hands over the sleeves of his coat. "It's bloody freezing out here."

"The sooner we start, the sooner we get hot cocoa," Hank pointed out even though he too looked less enthused about working.

They started with Gertie and Aro first, feeding them and making sure they had enough areas to stay warm. Most dragons could handle the severe weather due to their love of mountainous regions, but they weren't entirely immune to illness and overall irritation from the drastic change. Certain breeds in particular seemed to handle the frigid climate better than others, and that became clear as they approached Odie, the Antipodean Opaleye.

"Boy he's cranky," Hank said after dodging a second blast of fire from the agitated beast. Odie was refusing to let anyone feed him or even step within 50 feet of him.

Charlie laughed as he guided the raw sheep meat back onto the ground several yards away from Odie. "You probably would be too if you were from Australia."

"True." Hank stepped away from the rock he had hid behind, his eyes never leaving Odie in case another burst of flames came his way.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," (Y/N) began, eyeing the purple patch covering the dragon's right ear, "but I think it's more than him just not liking the weather. I think he's developed frostbite from it."

"Shit," Scott grunted as his gaze followed (Y/N)'s. "I told you guys we should have made them wait until Spring to ship him here."

Hank slid his wand back into his pocket and turned to Charlie. "Guess I should go nag the research team to help us stun him. Should I get Logan or Felix to heal it?"

Charlie looked from Odie's ear to (Y/N). "Can you do it?"

(Y/N) craned her neck to see the full span of the injury. "If I can somehow get within five or so feet of him then yeah."

"Five feet?" Hank pointed out, quirking an eyebrow.

(Y/N) groaned in exasperation. They loved mocking her American ways. "One and a half meters, whatever. I think you should use the freezing charm instead though."

"Are you mad?" Scott spat.

"If we stun him we risk him not eating for another hour. Dehydration and starvation will only make the frostbite and his attitude worse."

"Can't we use the body-bind curse instead?" Scott asked. "I'd feel far better about you getting so close if he was more restrained."

"And traumatize him while he's hurting?" (Y/N) asked, flinching at the idea.

Scott turned to Hank, clearly looking for backup, but the forty-three year old shrugged and started toward the pathway. "It's your funeral, darlin'."

Five minutes later, Hank came back with Logan and Dave to help with the charm. "Six of us should do it, don'tcha think?"

The rest of them nodded. Half a dozen were usually plenty to subdue a more timid breed like Odie.

"You sure you want to do this?" Charlie asked, handing (Y/N) his gloves. "It's not exactly the safest task in the world."

She smiled at him, sliding the brown material over her hands. "If I wanted safe, I hardly would have picked this career."

He chuckled, seemingly satisfied with her answer. "I've got your back."

(Y/N) hated when Charlie made comments like that. They were crossing far too many of her boundaries and made her insides tingle in a way she wished it wouldn't. Still, she put on another smile and withdrew her wand. "You better."

The six of them lined up and waited for Odie to lay down. As soon as he was comfortably resting on the snow-covered ground ahead, they all shouted, "Immobulus!"

(Y/N) darted forward, unsure of exactly how much time she had, and moved to the dragon's right side, staying as far away from his mouth as possible. With a complicated wave of her wand, she used the hot-air charm first, letting a gentle mist of steam warm the affliction. As soon as the proper pearl color returned to Odie's ear, she performed two healing charms on the injured ear and one charm on the opposing ear to prevent it from facing the same fate later.

"Hurry up," Scott warned. "Or we'll have to do it again."

"No, I'm good," (Y/N) said, catching sight of the slightest movement of the dragon's arms. Just as she stepped back, Odie unfroze completely, standing up and flapping his wings. (Y/N) was almost out of the danger zone until his giant white tail flicked once behind him, hitting her thighs and sending her falling backwards. She winced as her back hit the ground, knocking the wind out of her momentarily and shooting her wand into the air. Luckily, the snow helped ease her fall and she recovered quickly, automatically reaching her hand out and saying, "Accio wand."

Big mistake. Odie's gaze hungrily followed the wand as it flew through the air, clearly mistaking it for potential food. As the wand landed in its owner's hand, Odie's eyes darkened, just now spotting (Y/N) and how close she was.

Knowing no one would be able to subdue or distract him in time, (Y/N) moved faster than she had ever moved before, scrambling behind the only boulder in sight as the Antipodean Opaleye sent a rush of flames her way. She overheard the men in the background attempting to extinguish the blast, but they could only manage to lessen the blow. She ducked as close to the snow as humanly possible, but she was so worried about her head, she forgot to move the hand resting against the rock. Pain seared the back of her left hand as the flames reached the glove, and she jerked it away, tucking her whole body behind the boulder. When she heard Scott and Hank taming Odie, she relaxed, sitting up and yanking off the glove to examine the reddened, already blistering skin. Their gloves protected them as much as possible but could only do so much against such direct contact with fire.

A familiar head of red hair came into view as Charlie crouched down beside her. "You okay?"

"Almost," she said before letting out a sigh of relief as she rested the back of her hand into the snow. She couldn't help but laugh a little, still feeling jolts of adrenaline course through her body. "Would you think I'm utterly insane if I said I'm even a little excited about my first potential scar here?"

A grin spread across Charlie's freckled face. "Not one bit." He stood back up and extended a hand to her. "Come on, let's get that cleaned up."

(Y/N)'s hand started feeling better after burn-healing paste was applied. She continued working for the rest of the day while Hank and Scott profusely commended her readiness and ability to stay calm.

"I could have sworn you were gonna lose your eyebrows like Scott did his first year," Hank had said, ruffling Scott's hair while Scott jerked away.

"It was only one eyebrow and that only happened one time."

The team retired early and (Y/N) was in her kitchen, enjoying a cup of tea and trying to ignore the occasional twinge in her hand, when there was a knock on her door.

"Come in," she called, and she was instantly annoyed by the flip in her stomach as Charlie's silhouette came into view. He was wearing a knitted crimson sweater she had never seen before with a dragon embroidered in the middle. None of them wore nice clothes much since they were usually out on the field, and she tried to avert her eyes, not wanting to admit to herself how well it suited him.

"Figured you could probably use some more of this," he said, closing the door behind him and setting a fresh bottle of the burn-healing paste onto the table.

"Thanks," she said, smiling up at him. "Want a cup of tea?" His eyes glanced uncertainly to the auburn liquid steaming in her teacup and she laughed. "Relax, I have milk and sugar if you want it."

He smiled. "Sure then."

"You Brits are weird," she muttered, moving toward the kettle as Charlie took a seat on the wooden loveseat off to the left and let his eyes wander around her place. The pair had hung out a lot, but not so much in each others' houses, and (Y/N) suddenly felt nervous.

She poured a second cup of tea and grabbed the burn-healing paste from the table before joining Charlie in the section of the room that would be considered the living room. She did, however, decide to sit in the chair adjacent to the loveseat. Boundaries.

"Thanks," he said, accepting the mug from her and leaning back into the cushioned seat. "You did really great today."

"All in a day's work," she said casually, feigning boastfulness with a shrug of her shoulders.

He laughed and set the teacup down on the coffee table in front of them. "You gonna put more of that on or am I going to have to do it for you?" he asked, indicating the bottle next to his mug.

Boundaries, boundaries, boundaries, (Y/N) repeated over and over in her head. As much as she hated to admit it, the tiniest part of her understood what Sydney had meant. Charlie was a little clueless when it came to how words and actions could be interpreted. "Okay, mom."

"I just know how much it hurts going on at first."

He wasn't wrong. It stung like a bitch the first time she applied it after the incident, but she wasn't about to admit that. She had a relatively high pain tolerance and was a little too prideful when it came to her resilience. "It's not that bad."

"Oh really?" He picked up the bottle and offered it to her. "Go ahead then."

She stared at it, trying to convince herself that it was like ripping off a bandage, but in the end she didn't want to do it.

Charlie grinned. "That's what I thought." He opened the bottle and poured some of the potion onto his palm.

"What are you doing?"

The redhead moved in front of her, sitting on the edge of the coffee table before reaching for her hand. "Doing it for you. We need your hand better before Monday."

The word BOUNDARIES blared in (Y/N)'s head like a siren, complete with flashing red lights, bells and whistles. She pulled her arm away, attempting a laugh. "I can do it myself," she insisted, trying to snatch the bottle away from him.

This didn't seem to deter him in the slightest. He just stared at her, a half smile on his lips. "And people say I'm stubborn."

She kept her eyes locked on his, refusing to be the first to break eye contact.

"Technically it's only fair,” he added, “considering I let you help me.”

Shit. That son of a bitch cornered her. She glowered at Charlie, feeling defeated as she pulled her sleeve up and extended her left arm.

"Was that so hard?" he asked right as he brushed the potion across the back of her hand, making (Y/N) wince as the orange paste fought to heal her burned flesh. The pain lasted no longer than a minute though and was soon replaced by jolts of electricity at Charlie's touch.

It was less than five minutes before Charlie screwed the cap on the potion and set it back onto the table, but (Y/N) was more concerned with the fact that he didn't return to the couch. Instead, he pointed to the scar along her forearm. "I've wondered how you got that for awhile now."

"Oh, I had to fight off a Chimera once. He got a good slash in but don't worry, I won." Her gaze instinctively flicked to his eyebrow. Her rules were screaming at her to resist the urge, but he had touched her hand first. It was only fair. She reached up, briefly brushing the pad of her thumb across the small scar that separated his left brow. "Your turn."

The redhead cracked a smile, raising his own hand up to touch the scar. "Why does everyone have to ask about this one? It's actually the least exciting of them all."

"Try me."

"Okay… my brother Bill and I wanted to try and play Quidditch once when we were little. He started teasing me, saying there was no way I could ride an adult broom, so I took it from him. Needless to say I fell, but I actually would say I did fairly well considering I was only five."

(Y/N) laughed, unable to ignore how cute a stubborn five year old Charlie had to have been. "No fair. I can't believe you got to ride on a broom that young. My mom would have had my head."

Charlie laughed. "I never said I didn't get in trouble for it."

The pair talked for a little while longer before (Y/N) said, "I like your sweater by the way."

Charlie arched a brow, following her gaze and pinching the knitted material between his fingertips. "You mean jumper?"

"Ugh, whatever." (Y/N) let her head fall back against the chair and Charlie chuckled. At least it wasn't as bad as finding out Brits thought you were talking about underwear when you said pants. (Y/N) had reiterated the word trousers until it stuck in her mind for good. “Where’d you get it?”

The redhead looked a little embarrassed. "Uh, my mum made it."

That was probably the cutest thing (Y/N) had ever heard in her life and she didn’t know which was worse- the fact that Mrs. Weasley was perfect enough to knit her children sweaters or the fact that Charlie was the type of son who actually wore them. "When are you leaving to go see them?"

"Probably a few days before Christmas. I usually stay for about a week."

(Y/N) hoped her disappointment didn't show on her face. She knew Hank and Scott were going to be there, but she was going to miss Charlie.

"Are any of your friends coming to visit you?"

(Y/N) frowned. "Not until early next year. A lot of them are stuck at work or visiting their own families."

Charlie nodded and looked like he had something else he wanted to say.

"What?"

He peered up at her, and if (Y/N) wasn't mistaken, a subtle tinge of pink highlighted his freckled face. "You could come to the Burrow with me if you want."

(Y/N)'s heart stopped. As her mind caught up with his offer, she waved a hand at him. "Oh no, that's okay. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine here."

Much to her dismay, however, Charlie didn't let it go like she thought he would. "It really wouldn't be a big deal. There's already nearly a dozen of us so there's always plenty of food. And to be honest, Christmas is a bit dismal here at the Sanctuary."

(Y/N) had no doubt that Christmas would be disappointing here, but this was exactly the sort of cluelessness she had been referring to. Charlie was just being a nice friend, she told herself, refusing to let the offer go to her head. But why was he asking her and not Hank or Scott?

No. She was overthinking it. Maybe he had asked Hank and he had said no because Chloe was visiting. And she already knew Scott said he would hang back to help Hank with the dragons. Maybe he asked the team every year and it was no big deal.

"Uh, I don't know… I'm not sure I could handle meeting Harry Potter. I'd probably embarrass the hell out of myself."

Charlie laughed. "If either of us stands to be embarrassed it would be me. My siblings live to humiliate one another."

(Y/N) fell silent, trying to ignore just how much she would love a chance to meet his family.

"Are you really going to say no to me two days before my birthday?"

"Hey, that's not fair," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I think it is. Think of it as a birthday present."

Why was he being so persistent? This was crossing dozens of boundaries. The last thing she needed to do was fall in love with his family. "What if I already got you a present?"

Charlie's eyes narrowed. "I told you guys not to."

"No, you told us not to buy anything," she corrected before standing up and walking over to her dresser. She opened the bottom drawer, withdrawing a neatly folded sweater before returning to Charlie. "My team gave me this after the Bludger I hit stopped the other team's Seeker and won us the House Cup." She held up the striped blue sweater, showing off the Snitch darting around the center of it. "I never wore it much because let's face it, two Bludgers moving around on it would have been much cooler, but I thought you might like it. I was going to turn it red for Gryffindor and use the enlargement charm on it."

Charlie stared at her, smiling one of those damn smiles- the ones she had become strongly opposed to because of the way they made her feel. "Can I see it on?"

(Y/N)'s eyebrows narrowed inquisitively, but for some reason she obliged, tugging the sweater on over her long sleeve shirt. "Well?"

"I have one word for you," Charlie said, his appreciative smile replaced by an alarmingly playful expression. "Run."

(Y/N)'s eyes grew wide and she darted toward the front door, swinging it open just as the redhead started after her.

After managing to somehow not kill herself on the slushy porch steps, (Y/N) ran toward the west wing, knowing the exact path to take to avoid any dragons. "You're insane," she called as she heard the redhead’s footsteps behind her, but she couldn't restrain a giggle. Pushing past a tall patch of brush, (Y/N) made her way toward the manufacturing team, passing by crates full of dragon-hide gloves and boxes of dragon heartstrings. She tried to slow him down by knocking a couple empty boxes back toward him, but Charlie easily sidestepped them.

"You're gonna have to try harder than that," he said, laughing as he gained in on her.

(Y/N) was panting hard by now, not used to breathing the cold air into her lungs. She kept running though, set on where she was headed, but her plan came to a screeching halt as the path she was intending to follow was covered with a pile of shoveled snow.

Before she could start running again, Charlie caught up with her, and just as she had anticipated, he tackled her onto the powdery mound of snow.

Neither could stop laughing as they landed in the pile, which was nearly deep enough to consume them both. It wasn't until (Y/N) had wiped the snow from her face and opened her eyes that her laughter died out.

"Gotcha," Charlie said, grinning down at her. He was bracing himself on his forearms to prevent from crushing her, and his face was so close- less than five inches from her own, making her go slightly dizzy. She dropped her head back into the snow, letting her eyelids flutter shut as she tried to steady her racing heartbeat- which was only racing because of all the running.

"Fine, you win," she said, and (Y/N) was more than relieved to feel the twenty-six year old collapse onto the ground next to her. She chanced a glance at him, but it wasn't much better. She still felt every urge to kiss him. "I'll go with you."

The redhead grinned at her, still panting slightly from the running. "Good. I prefer the jumper on you anyways."

(Y/N) knew Charlie just enjoyed messing with her and showing off his Seeker abilities, but that didn't stop her from wishing he meant something else by that.

Yep. She was completely and utterly doomed.

[heythatpenguinhere]

Realization

*Back at it again for another Eleteo fan fic! KUDOS to Gus from the Discord group for the fluffy idea!!

In theory having a magical dress and new powers sounded great; to actually possess this power, however, was a whole other story.

Princess Elena was used to pretty much wearing her emotions on her sleeve. She didn’t have much reason to hide her feelings and was very open to expressing herself as she saw fit. Emotions like happiness, peace, gratitude, amusement, and curiosity filled her days with enough to keep her busy. Besides, she was quite terrible at hiding her emotions especially if they were very big emotions. This very flaw led her to where she was at this exact moment; hiding before a palace pillar hoping she hadn’t been seen.

“Okay what is going on with this dress!” Elena said to herself, examining the fabric between her fingers.

The crystals in her dress glowed as they often did, catching the sun’s rays and creating a prism of colors that was absolutely beautiful; she loved that new addition. But the real problem at the moment was her dress’ color. Her dress was currently a rosey shade of pink that seemed to glow and pulse with Elena’s heartbeat.

The longer she had her new powers, the more familiar she was getting with them and realizing the emotional meaning behind the colors and their potential outbursts. Yellow for joy and happiness, purple for anxiety or fear, aqua for calm and relaxation, and the list went on and on. Pink was not a new color. It was a color she had experienced early on around her family with fond memories; pink related to the feeling of love and care. So why was the princess hiding behind a palace pillar talking to her dress?

Everything in her day had been normal. The changes in moods and colors were as predicted and she had a much stronger reign on the powers that manifested. That was until she caught sight of her dear friend Mateo. Mateo had just come from his Wizard workshop when Elena had noticed him. She smiled and had gone to greet him when she examined him more closely.

Mateo was clad in his new robes, courtesy of his grandfather. The robe was maroon with a gold and deep forest green trim along the neck and waist. It fit him perfectly and the robe only served to accentuate his growing figure. And growing he apparently was. Not only was Mateo noticeably taller, but he was also bulking up a bit more in muscle and his robe was definitely showing that now.

Elena felt herself getting unusually warm and her face burning. When did Mateo start to look like… That?? She couldn't process a coherent thought or word to say as her mind felt like it was sizzling and her mouth went dry. This was her friend! Her best friend! What in the world was she doing thinking like that?

While she may not have been able to process her thoughts, the magic inside her had no issue flowing with the newfound emotion. The princess' dress changed colors to a bright pink shade and before Elena could even realize the change, the magic flowed from her and to a flock of birds above. Soon the birds that were flying over the garden were soaring down toward the royal wizard. As soon as they reached him they began to sing a romantic tune and flap their wings to make his hair blow slightly in the breeze.

Elena looked mortified. What was happening?! She had to call off the serenading birds somehow! She ducked behind a pillar in the garden and began to try and relax herself.

"Baby Jaquins Elena, baby Jaquins…" She said to herself as she kept her eyes closed and tried to fan herself. In her head, images of Miggs’ kids flying around were seen as they giggled and played.

She peaked from her eyes and noticed Mateo watching the display of birds oddly and looking around to locate a reason for their odd behavior.

Elena flung herself again behind the pillar, back against the concrete and breathing uneven. She had to get out of there.

-

"Hey Elena, watcha up to?" came a voice from the Princess' side.

Elena looked up from the scroll she was reading to see Naomi standing there. She sighed heavily and dropped her face onto the table she was at.

"Trade agreements going that bad?" She asked, before pulling up a chair next to her.

The princess shook her head. "If only it were that… My powers are just… being weird." She said with a sigh.

Naomi tilted her head, "What do you mean weird?"

Elena's cheeks warmed, "My powers are being weird… around Mateo…" She struggled to get out.

This took Naomi off guard. "Well I may not know much about magic, but aren't your new powers triggered by your feelings?"

Elena nodded, "Yes they are, which is why I don’t understand what's happening. The magic is getting it wrong."

"Can magic even do that?" She asked her back.

"Honestly I don't know, but it has to be. It's the only explanation and it's driving me insane." Elena said, sinking back onto the table's surface.

"You're going to have to give me a bit more to work with here Elena. What exactly has been going on? What's going on that's so weird?" Naomi asked her friend to try and get more understanding.

Elena retold the events that transpired earlier that day and what happened. "I just don't understand why this is happening. Can I not be normal around Mateo anymore for some reason?" She said frustrated.

"And you said the dress turned pink right? Which it had never done around Mateo?" Naomi had a strong suspicion as to what was happening. Judging by her friend's confusion, frazzled explanation, and blushy cheeks, she strongly suspected that the dress/magic was absolutely not wrong; the magic was actually very right.

“Yes. It turned pink and then the birds started serenading him. I thought I would melt right then and there honestly.” Elena stated, her words muffled from the table’s surface.

Naomi knew she was going to have to tread carefully with breaking the news to her friend. The only times she had seen the dress turn pink was around her family; more specifically when Elena felt love for others. So putting two and two together, it seemed that Elena was feeling some form of that emotion now for Mateo. It really wasn’t that wild to think either. Naomi always thought the two of them were closer together than the rest of their group. It was obvious that they shared a bond strengthened by the magic they experienced and the fact that they had a history from the very beginnings of Elena’s journey. So why wouldn’t that bond grow and change with them?

Naomi rubbed the back of her neck, “Bare with me here okay? So… What if, and this is a big what if, the magic… Isn't wrong?" She said and closed her eyes to brave for the worst.

Elena was just dumbfounded. The magic not being wrong wasn't something she had even considered. Could the magic in her just be honing in on what she was feeling for real? But why now?

"I, I just… Why now? Why would my… Feelings towards Mateo change now?" Elena said trying to understand.

"Hmm I mean you guys have faced a lot together, especially lately. Mateo and you have both really grown. Maybe the feelings have just grown too?" She suggested, leaning back into her chair.

Naomi seemed to understand Elena had a lot to process and soon announced she was going to go and find Gabe. This left the princess to ponder on her thoughts and specifically her emotions revolving her best friend.

-

"Zuzo!" The princess exclaimed after pacing her floor for what seemed like hours.

In a flurry of blue magic, her spirit guide popped up floating.

"How goes it Princess?" He said staring down at her.

Elena sighed, "Not good Zuzo. I, I think I need some magic help."

The princess was still pacing around her room as the fox flew around her.

“Well what can I do for you? Is it a new power? A Meruvian curse? A magical creature causing chaos?” He said counting different things off on his hand in excitement.

“No, no. It’s about me and my magic…” She trailed off, unsure how to bring the topic up.

“Okay, so what seems to be the problem? I thought we were doing much better on the emotional zen and processing area?” He said, referring to how the princess was practicing and still being open about her emotions to handle them properly.

“We are… It’s just that my magic and dress are reacting oddly and Naomi had a theory and I just wanted to confirm that my magic wasn’t just acting up and that it really wasn’t what she thought it was and-” The princess kept nervously spilling over and over, her words going on a tangent.

“Woah there. Slow down now. First off, what is going on?” Zuzo said motioning her to breathe in and out.

"It's Mateo. My magic is acting up around him and I can't seem to fix it! I can only avoid him so much and I don't want to really do that either." She said in frustration.

Zuzo had a look of excitement, "Oh my gosh did it finally happen?? Princess, did you and Mateo finally confess?! Why wasn't I aware of this sooner?" He said flying right by her shoulder and leaning on his hands.

Elena was confused, "Confess? What are you talking about?"

"You know, confess your feelings? Tell each other you care? All that lovely stuff people share with someone they love. Oh it gets me giddy just thinking about it." Zuzo said, magical hearts materializing around him.

"What?! No! W-Why would we do that?!" Elena gasped.

"It doesn't really take a magical spirit guide to realize you two have a serious case of the heart eyes for each other." He stated floating upside as Elena's face changed emotions rapidly.

Elena stumbled over her words, stuttering at what the spirit was implying. Mateo and her liked each other? And it was obvious? It sure wasn't obvious to her! Did he already know? Had Mateo told Zuzo? But they were friends, wouldn't this change everything?

"Alright, I'm going to take it you didn't know. Deep breaths Elena, let's not try and destroy half the palace okay?" The fox spirit said flying close to her face.

"Let's work on breathing normally and then how about we have a chat okay? What do you say; spirit guide to magical princess?"

Elena could only nod as she worked on relaxing herself as much as she could.

-

"I mean I was devastated seeing him in such a rough state when Alacazar passed. Like it literally felt like my heart was ripping apart as he cried. I just wanted him to be alright. And when he showed up despite everything and stood by my side against Ashe and Esteban… I was so incredibly proud. Zuzo you should have seen him! He was amazing! And then when we went back to the secret library and he changed to his new robes… I-I didn't know what to really say…" Elena spilled as she stuffed her face periodically with chocolate.

Zuzo sat on a magical couch and was taking notes of all the princess' words. "Uh huh. Well would you say you were hurt because he was hurting and you would have done anything to help him? Oh and that later you were then blinded by his ruggish handsome demeanor?" He said while wiggling his eyebrows.

"Zuzo! This is serious! This is Mateo! My best friend. Our royal wizard. I can’t be ‘heart eyes' for him!" Elena exclaimed staring down the spirit guide.

The couch and notepad poofed away as Zuzo spoke again, "Hey hey Princess, keep it calm. Don't get too worked up here. Is it really that bad to have more than friend feelings? Especially for our pal Mateo?"

Elena pondered the thought. Mateo was a wonderful soul. He had a beautiful heart and a loyal soul. When she looks at Mateo in the eyes, she knows she can trust him no matter what. He has proven time and time again to be by her side and works hard to be the best friend he can. The level of support he offers her is unparalleled. Through the good and bad, he's always there to offer a shoulder to lean on or strength to share. So maybe it wasn’t that big a surprise, or even that big of a deal that she was now seeing those things in a different light?

“I-I guess not…. Oh my gosh Zuzo… I like Mateo!” She said out loud and her dress flashed between purple, pink, and yellow.

Zuzo watched the rainbow display play out before him and smiled. His spirit guide wisdom and intuition really did see this coming since day one, but he was glad that the princess was able to come to terms with everything finally. After all, Elena was the only one who hadn’t yet.

Zuzo thought back to the times where Mateo had poured his heart to him and his own spirit guide in the hopes of receiving wisdom and guidance with his own feelings. It was a heartwarming display truthfully and they had helped him find deeper confidence within himself and emotions. The young wizard had doubted his worth in comparison to what he thought Elena deserved, but they had quickly reminded him of all he was. Mateo was a rare soul and so was Elena. They were not perfect, but they deserved each other and happiness. Zuzo would take a seat back and watch as the stars would align at the right time and sparks would fly between the two, as he always knew it would.

[perish-the-creator]

The Heat of The Moment

{Rodan x Godzilla} {Warning: intimate encounter} {Refrences to the mating calls will be linked} 

Prompt: Rodan has entered heat and proceeds to let it be known. The Monarch employees are beyond perplexed when a certain king comes to answer the call.

Isla de Mara was never the same after the rude awakening that was the titanus Rodan swooping through the sky and rattled the fundamentals of life that had established themselves below his home for the past hundreds or so years. No one could ever shake off the feeling of the damage he had caused, nor were there many who were willing to try and reclaim the land as their own. The former residents, for the most part, had surrendered their keep of the island and fleed to find new homes. It wasn’t uncommon actually now. There were huge masses of refugees escaping being under the horrid blanket of the creatures that could wipe them out without a second thought.  But few did remain on the island. Very few. And those that did explained it away via speaking of their bloodline and how their ancestors were the ones to worship him. They did not admit to renouncing the Christian god, but they proposed living under Rodan as if he were a divine being. 

Of course, the majority thought those people were crazy but nevertheless bothered trying to persuade them. If they wanted to live with the constant threat of being flattened by the powerful gust produced by the wings of that demon, so be it. 

Monarch themselves were worried about the people who dared to stay rooted in the land that belongs to Rodan. But their responses were snickers and chuckles about how the threat was always there, at least this time they could see it coming. And truth be told they had a point. As Monarch began constructing another outpost a few miles away from the island, they noticed how Rodan appeared to be rather docile. As if he understood the threat he lingered over the town. If he flew away he’d make sure his gust isn’t directed towards the people. 

After about a year or so, people began to return to the island. At this point, Rodan was more like a big brother. A watchful eye that only reacts if one were to screw up. So for a while, life resumed. Things began to go back to how they used to be just with the added firebird in mind. Until Rodan began acting weirdly. 

It started with his calls. They were loud yet rhythmic as if he were singing a song. The noise had startled many of the residents on the island, some grabbing their emergency escape bags and ready to run for it. But they were relieved to see that noises were all he was doing. He’d stand at the edge of the volcanic mouth and let out a deep chirp. Bobbing his head up and down a little bit and shuffling. The display only lasted about ten minutes but it was enough to get the scientist at his outpost to contact those who had some experience with this guy. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark was a bit hesitant to return to this place again. So many places created so many scars in his mind. He was also extremely worried about bringing Madison back too. The two of them, while still struggling, were attempting to repair the broken bond. And it didn’t help that both had developed a bit of PTSD. Madison gained a nasty fear of thunderstorms and had break downs when lightning flashed. Mark remembers many nights of having to sit on the floor with her as she covered her ears and cried for it to go away. No one likes seeing their kid like this. 

But at the same time, she wanted to be here. As far as she’s concerned she held no previous ties to the fire demon. She had failed to bear witness to whatever carnage he had created. That’s why she doesn’t shiver at videos or photos of him compared to…

“So,” Stanton began, having been another individual who had been requested to come back. “Got any idea as to what the hell he’s up to?” 

They all look at the monitor, watching as he strutted around his volcano, bobbing his head back and forth while screeching. Mark stared curiously. Rodan was a tricky guy to try and figure out. A rebel. A wild card with unpredictable motives.

“We thought it was due to our drones,” A female scientist spoke. “But after we stopped using them he still kept doing…well…this.” 

Rodan circled around some more, squawking and rocking side to side. Madison couldn’t help much laugh a little. Her father noticed. 

“What’s funny?”

“Heh, it’s just, he’s like the birds in the videos. Dancing around and whatnot.”It was kinda cute if she were honest. It was just hilarious to see a creature that is so complicated and revered acting like this. 

“Ah,’ Stanton said with a bit of surprise. “Come look at these stats man.” They all huddle over to him, getting the best view possible. Stanton chuckled a little bit. 

“So I played back a few of the sounds and this new system compared it to other sounds in our database. Apparently, it’s-”

“A mating call.” Mark finished, feeling his face flush a bit. There were already enough of these big fellows as is, so of course, it made his heart jump at the thought that this beast is attempting to procreate. 

“So who’s he putting it on for? Last I checked there aren’t many fire turkey chicks.” Stanton responded in a jokey fashion as an attempt to lighten the mood. Of course, anyone would be up in arms if they found out a bloodthirsty volcano chicken wanted to make more baby volcano chickens. 

Just them the monitors pick up another presence. A deep rumble that returned the calls of Rodan from the depths. A brief thought passes them their brains of who it might be, but they try to dismiss the possibility. There was no way HE was going to answer the call, right? Why choose an individual who sided with your enemy and wounded their symbiotic partner? 

Apparently, titans didn’t use that logic and everyone in the outpost were more than shocked to find out that indeed the king of the monsters was making moves on the fire demon. 

“Well…wasn’t expecting that.” Mark speaking what everyone was thinking. They watched with their breaths held. 

Godzilla rose from the water, making his presence known by letting out his iconic roar. Certainly, the people of Isla de Mara very terrified. Was a fight about to break out? Were their homes they had spent months rebuilding about to be destroyed again? Will some of them die? However, worry died down when they noticed neither titan appeared threatened by each other. They just sort of stared, er Godzilla did, Rodan tilted his head side to side and chirped again and again. 

“Is that a taunt?” A random intern asked. Another punched his arm, telling him how less than ten minutes ago it was said that this was a mating call. 

“I guess we should just sit back and enjoy the show, huh?” Stanton once again playfully asked. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rodan rotated his head side to side, never really taking his eyes off of the king. He had entered the dreadful heat and was desperate for anyone to come and end it. He was a bit overwhelmed that the alpha himself would answer his call. But that didn’t mean he had to accept him if the king failed to impress him. 

He knew Godzilla wasn’t like him and he was a bit nervous as to whether or not the king would even understand his gestures. A plausible conclusion was that Godzilla mistook his call as an intimidation threat and Rodan wanted to fight. But at the moment Godzilla had not attempted to assault him. Maybe he understood?

Rodan was then astounded when Godzilla started to mimic his head turns and giving mock chirps. Okay, so he did understand! Rodan continued on with his display. He opened his wings and flapped them, jumping slightly in the air and squawking. He did this about five times, each noise louder than the last. Godzilla’s head followed the motions of Rodan, clearly very interested and locked in.

The king gave a reply via gruffs and wiggling his head. As Rodan had done in the beginning, this act establishes that he’s considering mating with him. It’s not a yes but defiantly not a no. The fire demon chirped, happy that he is considered. Now, he can do his final act that’ll hopefully seal the deal.

Rodan begins his dance, chirping and rocking side the side. It was as if he were going along to some unheard melody. He was determined and in his element, striving to impress the king. It was instinct after all, and instinct was a means of self-preservation and enhancement. 

Godzilla watched with attentive eyes. The dance was working. He was pulled in. His head bobbed too, once again mimicking his potential mate to communicate that he wanted the other. It was a pleasure to watch. Godzilla hadn’t had a proper courting ritual in millions of years since the extinction. Even then, because of his small stature at the time he’s never had a successful one. So it was more than wonderful that this was working out. 

Rodan concluded, turning his head side to side again. A loud squawk once more left his beak, but the direction was for Godzilla. He could want Rodan all he wanted but if his display wasn’t up to pare then Rodan had the right to decline him. 

Godzilla snorted through his nose and gruffed three times before sinking into the water a bit. That’s when he began his mating call. His head stayed above water, raised slightly up towards the firebird. A deep rumble emits from him and his back submerges for a mere second. Large bubbles fizz around his sides as he rumbles again and repeats the process. He repeated making the earth rattling rumble towards his courting partner, trying his hardest to impress the other. The smell of his desperate arousal drove Godzilla crazy. Titans in heat were rare, and titans who wanted to mate while in said heat were rarer. Especially from a different species. Perhaps the term miracle could be thrown around at this point because this might be Godzilla’s only chance to have a partner who will be sexually active with him. 

He momentarily stops his call and opens his mouth, letting out loud gruff reminiscent of a lion. The objective was to make sure Rodan was still paying attention. And Rodan responded, chirping in a low mimick of his gruff, of course not as heavy. 

Godzilla spent another minute or so alternating between the two sounds until he saw that Rodan was satisfied. The fire demon waddled down the mountain like a cockatiel, very playful and adorable by both human and titan standards. Godzilla emerged from the water and stepped himself onto the beach, snorting again as if asking if Rodan accepted him.

And Rodan did. 

Rodan chirped and Godzilla mimicked it. Then Godzilla gave a low rumble and Rodan replicated. Indeed, they were now a mated pair. Godzilla leaned down and nuzzled his snout against the rough beak of his new partner, both throat emitting vibrations of contempt. 

Rodan then nipped at Godzilla’s neck before lightly knocking his foot against the region in which Godzilla’s genitals would come from. Godzilla huffed, licking the top of Rodan’s head. The smell was unbearable, and it took everything in the king to not mount the bird roughly whether or not the other wanted it. But he understood that if he forced himself he’d risk never being able to mate again, and that was something he couldn’t lose. 

Rodan chirped again before turning around and presenting himself. Like most birds, he possessed a cloaca, making it hard for the unknowable to know his gender. But then again, his kind didn’t follow the linear rules the small humans had on the subject.

Godzilla was more than happy to allow himself to be exposed, gently rubbing his length against Rodan’s tail instead. It was to not only impress his mate but also warn him of the coming mass that would soon enter his body. The king gruff again, the noise vibrating in his throat for a moment. Rodan gave a whimper, an act of submission that let the king know he could enter.

With that, Godzilla snorted and pressed himself inside, both creatures wailing out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“OOOH KAY!!” Mark shouted out as he quickly covered up Madison’s eyes. Some of the newer interns began to laugh some, one even falling to the floor holding his sides.

“Oof, well, at least we know the courting works.” Stanton chuckles. “Wonder if that technique works on humans haha!” 

“Poor guy,” A woman winces. “Looked a bit big for him.” Another scientist smirks. 

“Poor people on the island. Imagine having to explain to your kid why two big monsters are on each other like that. Oof, if it’s loud from here just think about how ear-piercing it is for those guys.”

Madison argued with her father as he proceeded to walk her out the observation room with his hands over her eyes. Apparently, seeing multitudes of people dying, nearly facing death yourself, and even being considered a member of a very important research agency means nothing when it comes to observing the mating patterns of titans. 

Oh well, the file will be stored away with the rest of their courting footage. She’ll just have to watch it behind her father’s back.

[missmeikakuna]

Tired Girl Ch. 2- F/F Fantasy Story

Rated: T

Fandom: Original story

Relationship type: F/F

Description:

High schooler Nosderag is childish, impulsive and- worst of all- powerless in a magical world. Her strong sense of empathy leads her to rescue an injured fairy and bring it back to her dorm, to the chagrin of her love-powered rumoured lesbian roommate Dalzonf. Together they try to return the fairy to its enclosure before they get arrested for animal theft.

The problem is, people with love powers are seen as criminals, putting a giant target on Dalzonf’s back. CONTENT WARNING: This story will have homophobia, bullying and discussions of sexual assault.

Chapter 2: Curious Girl

The two roommates ignored each other the next day, aside from giving each other their numbers in case of emergency. Nosderag read in the library after classes. It had a very old-school design, as in it looked like a tribal village in the middle of the Terio region. 

Everything was made of plants, from the vine-covered walls to the wooden bookshelves to the giant flowers used as chairs. The building carried the sweet smells of native flowers and the appearance of a tribal leader’s hut up in the trees.

Nosderag came across a book about magical creatures native to Astraboleria. That book had a piece of paper between two middle pages with a message messily written in black ink.

If you want to see these for real, go to the storage shed behind the armoury. 

Naturally, Nosderag was not one to follow an order from a bookmark of all things, but the more she read through the book, the more intrigued she was.

Her family never had a pet (too at risk of getting accidentally burned) and she had not seen many magical creatures up close. Outside of the occasional banshee hornbills which screamed in her face and stole her lunch in the park, of course.

Curiosity and basic common sense fought. Curiosity won.

Nosderag slammed the book closed and tossed it into the basket beside the nearest bookshelf. A vine descended from the roof and picked up the book, taking it to the appropriate shelf.

She strolled out of the librarian like an ordinary, non-mischievous person. She kept her steps light and her mouth shut. 

The armoury wasn’t far from the library, only a few hundred metres away. Yes, that may seem like a fair bit, but nothing could compare to that dormitory’s damn stairs. Nosderag could walk any distance now.

The armoury was the second biggest building aside from the dormitory, a tacky purple behemoth with gold trimming. Whereas the other top-secret buildings had an invisible shield surrounding them, the protective magic around the armoury was glaringly visible, in that the entire bubble looked like what you see when you try to watch television in bright sunlight.

Behind the armoury was a rundown shed emitting various animal calls. A creature that sounded like a kookaburra if it had been dragged into the ocean seemed to be competing for attention with what sounded like a metallic lion on helium. Underneath those sounds were clicks and the fluttering of small wings. The dark windows of the shed lit up every so often as a creature made a lightning bolt or breathed fire. Luckily, the walls were fireproof as every building in the school was.

Nosderag pondered the situation. There was sure to be a forcefield, right? How could she get in there? She considered asking Administration for a permission slip, a bureaucratic process that would take a few weeks at least. Still, was she really going to risk expulsion just to sate her curiosity?

Before she could turn around and walk away, she heard what at first sounded like a celery stick being cracked. The pain-stenched scream told a different story. A bone must have broken.

Nosderag instinctively ran up to the shed. She felt a sharp sting throughout her body upon breaking through the forcefield, but she managed to make it inside. She contemplated her hands to figure out how that happened, but then the screeching returned and she raced into the shed through its open door.

Why was it opened? A man’s voice inadvertently answered that question. ‘Get back in your bloody cage, you bloody mongrel!’ His broad Australian accent was quite a shock to Nosderag, who was unfamiliar with it. ‘If you don’t get back in here, I’m quitting and you can get someone harsher to discipline you! How does that sound, huh?’

The ‘mongrel’ was a tiny black bat-winged creature with a red beak and legs similar to a human's, aside from the talons at the end. Her forearms were the colour of gold and she had black hair with a golden streak in it. She was a dead ringer for Arayonda, the goddess of the sky, albeit naked rather than wearing a traditional white tunic. She flew haphazardly around the shed, chirping like a blackbird. One of her legs was clearly broken, dangling around.

The man’s beer gut appeared to be making it difficult to chase the ara fairy around. He wore a sneer and grabbed at the air with his sausage fingers, hoping at least one handful of air would also contain the fairy.

He finally managed to get his grasp on the creature and began strangling its neck. The chirps got thinner and thinner until-

Nosderag tackled him like an American footballer. Her arms weren’t strong but the shock was enough to make the man step back and let go of the fairy.

‘What are you doing?’ he shouted at Nosderag, his face red and his nostrils flaring like he himself was about to breathe fire. She flinched, expecting to be burned. She sighed in relief when no fire came out from him.

‘You can’t kill it! It’s just little!’

‘It’s a little pain in the behind. These things won’t listen to human words. All they need is a good beating to start behaving.’

The fairy perched herself on Nosderag, surprising both humans. She rubbed her beak against Nosderag’s neck and purred like a parrot, wobbling on one leg. Nosderag simply had to cross her arms and smirk at the man.

But it was not enough to dissuade the man, who leapt towards Nosderag to take the fairy. The creature flapped out the door. The man went out to chase her, leaving Nosderag to take a good look at the other animals.

The underwater kookaburra-sounding one was a scaled but winged creature, a sleek vision in turquoise.  Its call took on a deeper, angrier tone when it flapped its small but sturdy wings against its tank at the helium lion-sounding creature beneath it. The other creature was a green eight-legged furry monster about the size of a warthog, and with tusks on its face to match. It began hissing at the scaly bird and its hisses sounded like running water. It put its legs between the bars of its cage but couldn’t slip out. 

At the other end of the shed were four little dragons, all of different types. A Chinese lung rapidly changed the colour of its scales as it spit out little signs of the weather such as rain clouds, snow and a miniature version of the sun. The black-scaled Russian alicha kept trying to eat the little sun whenever it appeared. A bida from Mali, a long serpent with golden scales, seemed very cramped in its cage. It kept crying gold coins that disappeared as soon as they hit the ground.

The final one fascinated her, as it was a rare Sumerian kur with grey and white scales that made it look like a mountain. It seemed happy to see Nosderag, judging by the way it flapped its feathered wings at her.

Nosderag reached out to pet it, but then she heard a noise outside and decided to leave the armoury and return to her dorm.

While walking, she heard a familiar fluttering and stopped. She turned her head to the side and saw the ara fairy from before. She nuzzled her beak against her cheek, panting as she collapsed on her shoulder. Nosderag turned behind her towards the shed for a moment before leading the fairy to her dorm.

Upon reaching the dormitory, she took out her phone and called Dalzonf. ‘Hey, can you power the elevator? I am not walking up those damn steps again. And you better, because I have a surprise for you.’

Dalzonf hung up. 

Nosderag began her pilgrimage up the stairs when she heard the whisk of the elevator as it descended. The fairy hid inside her coat. 

Dalzonf yawned, surrounded by pink mist. ‘By the way, you’ll get a bigger crush on me between this floor and when we get off the elevator. Just a warning. Don’t try to pull anything.’

Nosderag scoffed as she made her way to the elevator. ‘I’m never going to live it down, am I?’

‘Not for as long as I’m blackmailing you.’

‘Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me how much of a shithead you are. I almost forgot. You’re... like an oasis in the deserts of Cenaschramm.’

Nosderag’s cheeks burned as her heart leapt. Everything but Dalzonf became blurry like her eyes were movie cameras putting the other girl in focus.

A laugh escaped Dalzonf’s pursed lips. ‘Well, that’s a new one.’

‘Your eyes are like perfectly cut andalusites,’ Nosderag said, leaning in closer.

‘Alright, that’s enough-’

‘You are the reincarnation of Marosos.’

Dalzonf pushed her away and kicked a wall of the elevator. ‘This damn relic. Needs so much damn power.’

The effects of her love tolxing did not disappear as soon as the elevator reached its destination. They stayed in Nosderag’s system for a few minutes. Apparently the symptoms of this magic included making the affected person follow their target of affection like a duckling and then agreeing to her demands to sit in the corner.

Nosderag’s cheeks slowly started to cool down. She blinked quickly as she got her bearings again.

‘So, what is your surprise?’ Dalzonf asked.

‘Oh, yeah, say hi to… I don’t have a name for her yet.’ She opened her coat and revealed the ara fairy.

‘What.’

Exasperation dropped down onto Dalzonf’s face like a waterfall.

‘She was getting hurt by the groundskeeper,’ Nosderag explained as she brushed her finger against the fairy’s little cheek. She gave the other girl hopeful eyes.

[spirit-of-the-void]

Ebony and Ivory (V x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 5

Authors notes: ��For those wondering, no, I am not including every instance of Nidhogg hatchlings. Because they are gross and I hate them lol and that would have been bad had they stopped to rest with one just tucked away into his vest. Ew.

Chapter 5

The morning dawned calm and warm.

The sun was shining through a window in the office, creating striped patterns on the floor.  The room was a little stuffy, but comfortable regardless of that. How long had you slept? Your power was now fully returned, swirling in your stomach leisurely and calmly. No more exhaustion. You let out a light sigh, willing yourself to wake up and face reality. You found yourself incredibly snug and lethargic, head tucked into a pillow as your eyes blinked open slowly. What time was it? The events of the night were sill apparent to you, but foggy—you knew were you were at least, and that’s what was important. You groggily lifted your head and upon doing so realized just exactly why you felt so god damn snug.  

You saw V first, face illuminated by the sun streaming through the window panes. His hair had a light, beautiful sheen, lashes looking incredibly pretty in the light. He looked so peaceful—you couldn’t bring yourself to wake him. Pretty boy deserved as much rest as he could get. Instead you slowly sat up, hearing a light squawk of complaint from behind you as you did so. Turning, you saw Griffon half flopped on your pillow, blinking his own eyes open a couple of times to squint at you tiredly. You immediately smiled, putting a finger to your lips to quiet him. He was definitely at the top of the list of people who wouldn’t hesitate to wake up V, but you could at least try.

As he yawned, you looked down to your legs, seeing Shadow curled between yours and V’s, still asleep and basking in the sun. They looked so pleased, you didn’t want to wake them either—yet you still reached a hand out, giving their head a light stroke. Their fur was warmed by the sunlight's glow, ears immediately flicking a little. The mighty cat yawned, a light trill leaving them as they opened their eyes to slowly blink at you. Precious, so precious. Gratitude for the cat and bird filled you as you remembered the night’s events. Somewhat embarrassed, but happy nonetheless. Shadow seemed warmed up to you now, and that was relieving more than anything else. You smiled at them, feeling pretty happy with the morning’s events.

Despite your best efforts, you heard V stirring at your side, a light sigh leaving his as he also began to wake up. You looked at him, feeling a smile on your lips as you saw him blink his eyes against the bright sun, lifting a hand as a shield. He looked pretty well rested; all things considered. Though you could tell he definitely wasn’t a morning person. He pressed a hand to his face, closing his eyes again as he took a few deep breathes. Griffon lifted his head, yawning as he shook out his tail feathers. As he did so you saw V’s expression shift, that light smile playing on the edge of his lips as several things seemed to register with him.

First was probably that the bed was significantly more cramped than before.  

“Tell me,” He murmured, tone still rich with sleep as he opened one eye to stare at you—he looked amused, if somewhat exasperated, “How on earth did everyone end up on this bed?”

You shrugged despite knowing the answer, giving Shadow’s ears a light scratch when the big cat yawned.

“By all accounts it doesn’t make any sense,” You replied innocently, so innocent a halo should have appeared over your head, “Maybe they were lonely.”

The less the lanky goth knew, the better.

“Mmm.” V hummed in response, sitting up slowly and rolling his head on his shoulders. Christ, that action alone looked pretty sensual, graceful in a way. You turned away before you were caught staring, letting out a yawn yourself and stretching with a light sound of delight. You felt downright wonderful. The evening’s nightmares were long gone in your mind, and your Void power was fully replenished and up to standards again. You stood up from the bed, cracking your back a little as you surveyed the room. Nothing seemed to bother you in the night, and everyone was no worse for wear. Minus the little issue of your nightmare, things were pretty damn normal.

Griffon yawned loudly, flapping his wings wildly as he squawked, “Glad you two are finally up and at ‘em!” He flew around the room a bit, finally landing on your shoulders as he pestered, “How are ya’ feelin’ toots? Ya feelin’ alright? Not dyin’ anymore?”

You huffed at that, “I wasn’t dying to begin with, Griffon. But yes. I’m fine.” You summoned some meat as you spoke, tossing it to the bird and one the cat. Both eagerly ate, seeming pretty pleased with your offerings. You heard V chuckle lightly, catching the back end of his smirk as he stood up from the cot, rolling his shoulders and stretching as well. The patterns on his back rippled with the movement, only slight muscle definition there. All things considered, sharing a bed with the poet had gone pretty well—you weren’t as bothered by it as you previously assumed you’d be. And you were SUPER pleased that Shadow now seemed to like you, the cat weaving around your feet as you made your way to the counter with the food, sitting your butt on there while you munched on some food.  

Shadow placed its head on your lap again, making your heart go crazy with delight and tears prickled your eyes as you heard them purr again. Holy shit, you were pretty sure you had never felt that happy in your life. Setting the food down, you cupped the cat’s face, squeezing its cheeks slightly as you smiled with absolute delight at the creature. Much to your even heavier delight, the cat grunted at the action, rewarding you with a small blep of its tongue sticking out. You couldn’t help it—your eyes teared up more with joy, a small giggle leaving you as you leaned down to kiss the cats head. This was definitely heaven, a reward, a big victory. This happiness could sustain you for a millennia, you were sure.

You heard Griffon let out a scoff of annoyance, probably watching you lose your mind over this cat that could probably eat you if it so desired.

“I cannot believe this shit” He squawked, tilting his beak toward the poet as he rolled his eyes, “V, are you seeing this? Are you witnessing this? Look at her over there, smooching your glorified killing machine. Absolutely tickled pink.”

You heard V chuckle, tapping the head of his cane in his hand as he mused, "What I cannot believe is she won you both over faster than even I. I’m pretty sure Shadow likes her more than me.”

You looked up from your self-indulgent task, grinning despite their mocking.

“Jealous, lads?” You rose a brow, smile as innocent as an angel.  

V only smiled wryly in response, gaze light and filled with mirth as he two grabbed a bar from the tray. His cane brushed your leg, sending a slight shiver up your spine as he turned away. You were even more jazzed—you didn’t have to remind him to eat this time, he did it of his own volition. Today was the day of victories, so you decided to keep count. Waking up feeling good, waking up in a bed of wonderful creatures, gaining Shadow’s affections, and now V starting a habit of eating when he should. It was going to, hopefully, be a good day.

Griffon, however, puffed up his feathers, tone very standoffish as he replied, “Hard to be jealous of a glorified house cat. You done sucking up yet? We’ve got shit to do today.”  

You laughed, but nodded, nudging the cat off your lap as its master leaned against a wall to carefully ear his breakfast. He had already put on his sandals from the look of it, so you quickly sat down on the cot to tie your combat boots and adjust your thigh highs. You mumbled a light spell on yourself to make sure you were clean, still mourning that there was no shower. Maybe there was another house or apartment that still had running water? You would have to check at some point, if V allowed it.

It was cooler out from what you could tell, but there appeared to be clouds on the horizon threatening the sun. You frowned at them briefly before walking to the utility closet, seeing if there was anything in there worth taking with your group. After a small search, you found what appeared to be a personal locker for whoever owned the office. Inside it contained a small backpack, a picture of  a beautiful woman and a dog. The thought of that person being dead and gone threatened to make your heart ache, so you tried not to think about it. You took the bag and quickly closed it, walking out to the group again as everyone situated themselves.

“I’m going to take whatever food and water I can find with us,” You informed, opening the mini fridge and taking the few bottles of water you could find in there, “The less I have to summon, the better.”

V nodded, watching as you filled the bag with what you could find and leaning on his cane, “That may be wise. Will that hinder you?”  

You shook your head, pulling the bag’s straps over your shoulders and mumbling a spell.

“From reality, into the Void.”

The bag dissolved into you in a low, faint glow, disappearing from view. You saw V raise a brow as you rolled your shoulders, no longer feeling the bag’s weight. The spell was similar to the organic material one, only in this case you couldn’t replicate the bag and what was within. You could take it into you, and retrieve it when needed, but that was about it. And retrieving it cost no energy, since you didn’t have to expend energy to make anything.

“Impressive,” V commented, eyeing your body with light curiosity, “Your ability is quite versatile.”

You smiled, “It’s taken a while to get used to it.” You couldn’t elaborate on how long.  

Griffon landed on your shoulders before V could reply, flapping wings sending papers flying up from the desk as he squawked, “Chit chat later, kids, daddy’s getting impatient! We’ve got demons to fry!”

You and V exchanged a glace, V letting out a light hum of amusement as he gestured toward the door with his cane. You eagerly followed after the goth man, ready to leave the warehouse and move on. Shadow padded out closely behind, rubbing past your legs then V’s as they took up the front of the group. You took up walking next to V, a pep in your step as you made your way through the warehouse. You hadn’t gotten a good look at it the night before, and saw several shelves of materials as you passed through. It also looked like some of the roots had broken through the building as well, just narrowly missing the small office space. You were grateful of that.

The warehouse unfortunately had some areas of demonic activity, which your group set about killing as you traveled downward through. Nothing too difficult, just the occasional basic bitch demon batch. You could sense V half keeping his gaze on you as you fought, probably making sure you weren’t over-extending. You knew better now—you had to focus, taking up similar tactics to when you trained in the Void. Small energy bursts, consistency. Letting the energy course through your body for longer without expending any. The sensation was slightly painful, but you’d rather walk and fight through pain than hinder the group by being useless.  

You were back in the city within an hour, walking past various buildings with graffiti and artwork. You whistled at the sight of a beautiful mural of a woman, feeling a bit wistful that you wouldn’t really get to enjoy what this city had to offer before the calamity started. Even then, your enjoyment of the mural was short lived as well considering as soon as you neared this new street corner, your Foresight flared, alerting you enemies were at risk of appearing.  Because of course they were. Annoyance was starting to fill you at this fact, a sigh leaving your lungs. It felt like you couldn't walk five feet without something popping out at you, claws outstretched and snapping its teeth.

You made sure to wrap your tendrils around V quickly this time, stopping him before he could confidently stroll out with little concern for his god damn safety. 

“Whoa there, pretty boy,” You cautioned as he turned to raise a single brow at you, “There are demons here, ready to pop out.”

He inclined his head, sweeping back some of his black hair with one hand.

“That does remind me,” He murmured, jade eyes scanning the area ahead of you and alight with interest, “This isn’t the first time you have known of an oncoming attack. How are you able to tell?”

That was a question you definitely couldn’t give a full answer too. You paused, desperately trying to get your thoughts together to formulate a reasonable answer.

“I...don’t know?” Your dumb brain straight up flat-lined, making you falter in your words as you looked away, “It’s....complicated. I can’t really explain it; I just feel things sometimes. I learned to listen to instinct.” Not a lie, not completely. The Foresight was a lot more complex than that, almost like a living entity inside. You didn’t just feel, you felt pain. But you couldn’t tell him that.

V seemed to sense your discomfort on the topic, gaze lingering on you before he simply nodded and turned away again. You tried not to sigh with relief, summoning your power and trying to focus when he started walking forward, throwing caution to the wind again as he pointed his cane at the clearing. Griffon and Shadow shot forward, already prepared to fight when the demons began to dissolve out of the ground. There was fairly more this time, much to your annoyance and disgust. Shadow set on them with a roar, a series of spikes shooting out of their body and skewering the approaching demons. Griffon let out an elated cry, swooping down between a line of demons with a screech of “Fuck yeah!”.

In his wake came a line of purple lightning, frying a few of the creatures to a crisp.  

V pulled out his poetry book, reading a few versed aloud as you darted past him, leaping up and sending several tendrils down into the earth, shooting up all around to impale the oncoming demons. They screeched in pain, swiping at your feet as you flipped over them, Griffon catching you by your arm before one could reach up and snatch you. He deposited you on top of a dumpster, swooping over to grab V and move him out of the way of an attack as well. Shadow was contenting itself with skewering demons to the other side, slamming them into a wall hard enough you were sure they saw stars. You hopped down from the dumpster, channeling the energy again until it slightly burned, hissing out a cloud of cold air.  

You descended upon the nearest demon, grabbing it by the jaw as you leveled a kick on it from behind, its spine snapping on impact. It screamed, the sound gurgled and warped as it tried to uselessly swing an arm back at you. You dodged it, kicking it forward onto Shadow's spikes. A spurt of blood, the demon falling silent as the cat flung it toward V to finish it off. You darted over to the poet, using your tendrils to launch him into the air to stab the flailing creature. He laughed when you did, eager and elated as he spun upwards and thrust his cane into its chest cavity, spraying blood in his wake.  

You wiped it off your face, grimacing as you ached for that shower again. Five more demons remained, heading toward you and the poet as he landed on his feet.  

“Red is a good color on you.” V purred as he moved past, eyes lingering on the blood splattered on your cheek. You touched it with your fingertips, realizing that you missed some when you went to wipe it moments before.

You gave him an exasperated smile, summoning your power again as you faced the oncoming creatures, “I would agree if I wasn’t ready to commit murder for a shower.”

He chuckled at that, eyes alight with mischief as he snapped his fingers.  

The black disintegrated from his hair, bringing forth that dazzling white again. Moments later, Nightmare appeared, breaking through the mural you were admiring earlier and coming to a tumbling halt on the cobblestone. You mourned the loss of the art, but you had to admit it was quite the elaborate entrance. Before, he just fell from the sky, but it seemed like the creature could be summoned in elaborate ways. It was entertaining to say the least, and you always loved seeing the third summon in action. The moment he entered the fight the demons were doomed. A single laser shot across the battlefield sent several of them flying, killing two of them instantly. As V darted over to finish them off, the gargantuan creature made its way to the others with a hulking gate.  

He swung a large arm around, knocking one into the ground and causing it to splinter into pieces of stone. Another tried to jump on his back, but was quickly impaled on Shadow’s spikes as the cat came up from behind. Another was stomped underneath Nightmare’s foot, the sound of cracking bone echoing in the courtyard followed by a choked screech. This fight was definitely over, you could tell. You made your way to the closest demon, impaling it with your tendrils to kill it instantly. V made quick work of the others, finishing them off with that special flourish of his. You found yourself smiling, retracting your power back when you realized that Nightmare was staring at you.

You blinked, meeting its gaze as it watched you silently. It didn’t really have a face, no expressions to read. Just that swirling black, like tar, and one eye staring at you. Not the strangest thing you had seen, and it was still V’s companion.

So, you gave it a smile and a wave, tone friendly as you said, “Thank you for your hard work.”

The creature tilted its head at you, eye blinking once as it gave visible pause.

It then nodded once before disintegrating into nothingness, returning back to V’s hair from whence it came. V wiped his cane again, watching the whole exchange with amusement and mirth. You couldn’t help but wonder how he felt about you making friends with his familiars. He never seemed bothered by it, more so fascinated than anything. Until he said otherwise, you were going to continue being nice to all of them. The little victories, right? You let out a pleased noise, glad you could interact with the creature this time.  

Griffon landed on your shoulder, shaking his head at you as he quipped, “You are the strangest chick I have ever met. Downright fucking looney. Batshit, one might say.”

You hummed at that, grabbing his talons as you turned to look at the broken mural—there looked to be a hidden path there.

“You’re right,” You said teasingly, a smirk on your face, “Otherwise why would I enjoy the bullshit always coming out of your mouth?”

“Masochism maybe?” Griffon mocked right back, snapping his beak by your ear, “You must like to suffer, obviously.”

If he only knew how much pain you willingly put up with on a daily basis to use the power of the Void. His sharp tongue was child’s play compared to that.

V made his way to the broken mural, so Griffon launched himself from your shoulders, lifting his master up into the building. You followed suit, using the tendrils to launch up and over into it. The place was abandoned entirely, but was without enemies. You and V made your way out the back, finding your way into an alley behind the buildings. More graffiti there, and what appeared to be...what the hell was that? You felt yourself frowning  as you and V neared some strange, demonic flesh dripping green goop. The smell was atrocious, and you fought gagging and stopped in your tracks.  

“What the hell is that?” You asked what your brain was desperately wondering, the disgust plain in your tone.

V smirked again, approaching the thing with zero hesitation. Much to your shock and growing horror, he pulled a squealing bug-like bundle of flesh off of the goop, causing the remaining flesh to disintegrate. You had seen some pretty disgusting things in your travels, but that was some of the worst by far. The thing looked like a glorified tick, completely nasty with little spindly legs. And the smell...it was absolutely not your favorite thing. You were further disgusted with V when he tucked the little creature into his jacket, turning to face you with a bemused grin.  

You pressed a hand to your temple, lungs releasing a hefty sigh as you said, “Words cannot describe the level of disgust I feel right now,” You scrunched up your nose, eyeing the little creature peeking out of his jacket as you added, “I cannot fucking believe you just tucked that thing in your coat. V. What the fuck is that?”

He chuckled, griping his cane as he gestured for you to follow him. You reluctantly did, not liking the vibes the little demon bug carried as V lead you out of the alley.

“It’s called a Nidhogg hatchling,” He replied to you, pointing his cane further down the way at another dripping pile of flesh blocking another alleyway, “We need it to pass through there.”

You made a sound of understanding, but you still didn’t like it.

Griffon swooped down from your side, laughing in that grating tone as he mocked, “Really? Miss-tries-to-make-friends-with-everyone is grossed out by a god damn hatchling?” He landed on your shoulders, seeming downright smug at your wary expression, “Grossed out by a little bug? I’m disappointed in you.”

You frowned at him, his banter not really welcome when you were trying not to vomit at the smell of the place.

“Listen I don’t like bugs,” You said simply, eyes narrowing on the loud and obnoxious bird as you added, “Is there a problem?”

“Ooo no no—no problem,” He caroled, snickering at the end of his words, “Just enjoying your prejudice against bugs. It’s so very girlish of you.”

You opened your mouth to defend your dislike of bugs and to dismantle his line of thought, since men could very well be afraid of bugs without it being girlish. But you found that despite your dislike of the creatures you couldn’t pinpoint where exactly that fear came from, or why. Like other things with you and your thought process, you felt the residual emotions from it but without the substance to back it up. You reasoned that it was another memory removed and tried to shrug it off. Things of that nature happened a lot—a thought, an emotion, a feeling without source. But still ever present. You were just happy you didn’t have a fear of heights or anything like that. Bug phobias were pretty tolerable.

“Anyone can have a phobia, Griffon,” You finally said, following V as he exited back out onto another street, “I didn’t take you for the type to assign genders to shit.”

Your tone was quietly disappointed and judgmental, something he immediately caught onto.

“Are you mad at me? It feels like you’re mad at me,” He let out an over-dramatic sigh, leaning his head back and throwing off your momentum a bit, “Oh, whatever will I do. Now the fucking cat will be your favorite.”

You smiled at that, letting out a low hum as you replied, “Bold of you to assume you were the favorite to begin with.”

Griffon hissed at that, tilting back and snapping his beak by your left ear, “Ooo, jeez, ouch. That actually stung, girlie. That was downright hurtful,” His tone became sorrowful, him sweeping a wing over his eyes dramatically as he said in a choked voice, “And here I thought we had somethin’!”

V chuckled again at your banter, turning onto another street. A few more moments of walking lead to that other wall of flesh. Much to your disgust and added relief, he pulled the creature out again. He deposited it in the wall, the creature squealing as it crawled inside. Moments later, the wall disintegrated, opening the path so your group could pass.

“Gnarly,” You muttered, making V smirk again as you followed him to the new area.

You rounded a corner and entered what appeared to be a shopping district of sorts. Tables with umbrellas were scattered here and there, lining the storefronts of abandoned restaurants. You winced at the sight of more husks here, seeing that a few people were caught running from the threat after a day of shopping. Some were huddled on the floor, frozen forever in their moment of death holding each other. Sights like these unnerved you, and you turned your gaze away to try not to think about it. Instead you focused on reading storefronts, eyes scanning the area and waiting for threats to appear. This area was oddly demon free, for whatever reason. But there was a huge wall of roots at the end of the shopping district, from what you could see.

Griffon let out a bird-like noise as he hopped off of your shoulders, flying around the shopping district with a glide of his wings. After a moment, he made a sound of intrigue, landing on what appeared to be a bright red phone booth, tapping his claws on the metal roof of it as he whistled to V. The goth immediately turned, seeing the box and letting out a light hum as he turned and approached it.

“A phone...I wonder if we can reach that woman,” He mused, pulling a coin out of his vest, “See if she can offer any assistance.”

You leaned against the red box, smiling lightly as you replied, “Go for it. I’d like to get the chance to talk to Nico again.” You weren’t lying—you liked Nico. You were curious to see how she was doing and get to know her a little bit better. She had been pretty nice to you, all things considered. And she was really cute—not that you were interested.

V chuckled lightly, dialing what you recognized to be the same number as she gave you. It rang for a few moments, the goth putting the phone to his ear.

“Come meet us, we’re at—” He began to say, but you heard the faint sound of Nico’s voice cut him off.

“Yeah yeah yeah, keep ya panties on. I see ya already—Be right there.”

He had no sooner hung up the phone when the sound of screeching tires was heard. You blinked, gaze swinging around and upwards as you heard the faint, alarmed yelling of Nico as her van came careening off a broken bridge right above your heads. You gasped in shock, watching as V darted to the side then leapt upwards, sending Shadow out to leap onto the top of the van and sending it slamming to the ground. It skidded out of control for a few moments, whipping at an ungraceful stop as Nico exclaimed loudly inside as the fast motions. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute in your chest, staring at the van with a look of shock mixed with exasperation.  

Nico was definitely insane, that could have easily ended very badly.

You approached the van, watching as the woman opened a window and poked her head out to look at you both. She blew a hair out of her face, looking a little frazzled all things considered.

“Hey Nico?” You said in a worried tone, raising a brow as you met her gaze, “Do you take criticism on your driving?”

She gave you a half smirk, still a little out of breath as she replied, “Not without cryin’.”

You snorted, shaking your head a bit as you made your way to the side door of the mobile home. Somehow, that answer made sense. Regardless, you still opened it, taking a step in the van with V close behind. Nico approached you as soon as you walked inside, watching as Griffon settled on his favorite perch on the jukebox and Shadow weaved in between your legs. V nodded at her as he made his way to the back of the van, eyes fixated on what appeared to be a small statue. You decided to mind your own business, sitting down on the leather couch to wait for him to finish what he was doing. Shadow immediately leapt up and half flung itself on your lap, closing its eyes.

You smiled brightly, delighted all over again.

“Glad to see you’re still livin’,” Nico commented, crossing her arms over her chest, “And now you’re getting' cuddly with the poet’s familiars.”

You shrugged, looking up at her with a friendly expression, “They’re nice when you get to know them. How have you been doing?"

Nico paused, seeming surprised that you even asked.

“I’m alright,” She replied, sitting down next to you and putting a hesitant hand on Shadow’s back. The cat, completely distracted by your pats to its head, didn’t seem to mind, “Been workin’ hard making dipshit’s arms and the like. Drivin’ around everywhere. How ‘bout you? How has walkin’ around with mister poet been?”

You looked back at V, watching as he placed his hand on the statue and closed his eyes.  

“It’s been good,” You replied, expression cheerful as you looked at Nico again. You lowered your tone, “Though V is a bit reckless at times, he’s easy enough to get along with. A mysterious guy.” You tried to sound neutral where he was concerned, not wanting it to be obvious that you were really enjoying V’s company.  

Nico made a “Huh” sound, shrugging her shoulders as she stood up again.

“Well, since y’all are here,” She said, seeming incredibly jazzed about something as she smirked at you, planting her hands on her hips, “I worked on a little something for ya.”

You blinked, startled by her words.

“But I...don’t really have anything to pay you with,” You said hesitantly, not sure what the form of currency was like in the world to begin with, “I wouldn’t want to take without payment.”

She scoffed, “Course. Which is why I was gonna ask somethin’ of ya,” She walked to her work station, pulling out a wooden box and bringing it over to you, “I have a little prototype project made of demon materials, and you’re gonna test them for me. Also, since you’re walkin’ around with My Chemical Romance over there, I want you to keep an eye out for supplies I can use.” There was no request there, no questions asked. Just orders, plain and simple.

You blinked again. She seemed pretty pleased with herself, smug as a peacock. It looked like she had put a lot of thought into this, everything all planned out. Nico was a very assertive person, and you doubted that you were allowed to say no. Besides, you didn’t want to be rude. She was a skilled craftswoman, and any chance to use her wares was a gift all its own. It would also help when you didn’t want to over exert your abilities, an edge in battle you didn’t otherwise have.

“Fine by me,” You replied, offering a rueful smile, “I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.”

She gave a little nod, still wearing that smug grin. She approached you with the box, popping the top up so she could display what it was she made. You peeked at it, eyes going wide when you saw a set of two beautiful daggers. They were silver, glowing blue and red veins weaving through the metal like tree branches. The handles were wooden, polished and beautiful and veined with what looked to be a crystal of sorts. Or opal.

You stared in awe, downright starry eyed as you looked at the daggers. You didn’t know what to say—Nico seemed to enjoy the expression you had, smirking even more.

“Pretty, right? A work of art,” She sounded impressed with herself as she puffed up like a proud bird, “I spent most of the night on those bad bitches, but I have no idea what they can do—so you’re gonna do that work for me.”

You smiled wryly, gratefully accepting a dagger when she offered one to you—it felt good, weighted perfectly and warm to the touch. You could feel energy coursing through it, demonic and full of chaos. You had no doubt whatever these daggers could do, they could do it well. Nico seemed to almost vibrate with excitement, eyeing the dagger in your hand eagerly as you gave it an experimental twirl. You were trained to use most weapons, but usually found yourself not needing them due to the void powers. But daggers were great, and you were more than willing to test them out—using something so beautiful was definitely up your ally.  

“Let me at least give you something in return,” You said, holding out a hand and closing your eyes. You could afford to expend some extra energy as long as you had these new daggers to use. Your voice was low, ringing with energy as you murmured, “From the Void, into being.”

You summoned your Void energy, feeling the tendrils appear out of your hand and curl around themselves, taking shape and forming something not earthly. A material straight from the Void, but organic at the same time. It formed into a black crystal, cold to the touch and shimmering in the light. You saw Nico’s eyes light up, staring at the material with unbridled interest and excitement—you knew the material contained energy from the Void, a low-level version of it. Not enough to hurt whoever used it, but certainly able to provide useful effects if needed.

“This is a material created by the Deity I get my power from,” You informed her, handing it to her once it was fully formed. She snatched it up eagerly, holding it to her chest and looking like an excited kid on Christmas, “You can use it for whatever you want, it’s completely safe and pure.”

“Holy shit!” Nico exclaimed, already rushing over to her work desk with the new material, “Y/N You definitely are makin’ this arrangement worth it!”  

You saw V look up from the statue, bemused as Nico already started pulling on her working clothes, setting the material on the desk. You smiled, taking the other dagger out of the box and tucking both of them into notches on your belt.

Time to set out again. 

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136193/chapters/42951941

Tagged: @silentwhispofhope @just-call-me-no-name @nightshadow4713 @slightlylunatic @efiicitia