#and other times it will just exist peacefully on your dash and you can ignore it

[twilight-good-yall-dumb]

guys I started watching House because I was seeing it a lot on my dash recently, and then youtube started recommending clips from it and I got hooked. Anyway, I shouldn't have been surprised, but somehow I was, because it turns out all the jokes on here about the characters breaking into people's houses weren't really jokes at all. They really just do that...like on a regular basis. I figured maybe it was something that happened once or twice in the show and the fandom had just run with it, but no. It's like a regular occurrence. I still don't understand why. I really hope at some point the show addresses the fact that they're constantly trespassing and that it is in fact illegal. Or is that the bit? Is the breaking into houses without consequences a bit? Guys, I'm so confused.

[17wishbones]

Here is Chapter VII: War’s End (Part 2). I low-key cried writing this because, wow, I really do love this Flame Hashira so so so so so so much. I got a bit distracted reading other fanfiction and all that but here comes the second part. Now, this has spoilers from the manga/movie, so get to watching it as soon as possible. However, if you don’t mind it, go ahead and have a read! Please enjoy!

- - - - - - - - 

                                            Chapter VII: War’s End (Part 2)

Bright rays of the sun beat down on you as you stood before the oceanfront. The wind blew through your locks and along your skin. In your hands was a net and a few fish caught in them. You ogled them with a tight squint. ‘I know this handwork-’

“_____! _____!”

Your eyes widen. “That can’t be. . .” You slowly turned around and was blessed with a beautiful sight. “Mother? Father? You’re both. . .” Tears flowed like a river as you tackled them in an overdue embrace. You couldn’t swallow the sorrow that crept over your body when you thought to have lost them.

“We’re both what? Other than waiting for you to come home?” Your father was a tall man, standing halfway over six foot. His thick dreads touched the small of his back and his salt and pepper beard filled out his face. He was a handsome man still.

“You must be thirsty, _____. Come on in and drink. You’ve caught enough fish to last us a while.” Your mother was a beauty herself. She had a clean shaven head, a strong jawline, and the legs of an Amazon.

They stood tall while you remained short. You didn’t receive the end of the tall gene pool but that didn’t make you any harder to love, even though they joked about your height all the time. The two of them loved you so much.

Your mother, Oolade, wiped your tears away as your father, Uzoma, got the net of fish from the shore. “We shall eat as kings and queens together!” He shouted. “Look at the bounty our daughter has gathered!”

“I am proud of you, my sweet _____.”

“Mother, Father, please, you are embarrassing me!” You laughed. “Kyōjurō would love nothing more than to meet you both.”

“Kyōjurō?” They both questioned in unison.

“Oh.” Your mind went blank a moment. ‘Why did I say that? Kyōjurō? Who-who is that? His name sounds familiar.’

“Never mind that. Come.” You didn’t even think twice as you followed your mother to your quaint house on the shore that your father built by hand. It was just as you remembered.

“Oolade found some wild rice to make with as well. We’re going to have a feast!”

‘What was I even doing before? I must have been daydreaming.’ There was no questioning this surreal feeling as your parents showered you with love and laughter.

Overwhelmed with a sense of unbridled joy, you thought to never leave him.

You blinked. ‘Him?’ You questioned blankly. ‘Who is this him?’

Time had passed but the scenery didn’t change. “Hey, I’m going to step outside for some air.”

“Hurry back so that you may bless the food before we feast.” Your parents’ smiles, even though forever imprinted in your mind, suddenly dulled in comparison to the image of this fiery man.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You slowly opened them and saw an outlined path towards the woods. You instinctively followed it to a rip into another space. You gasped aloud as you caught a young child making their way to this shining orb floating within a bundle of sunflowers.

The child turned to you, frightened and with the needle pointing towards you. They were sweating and shaking with fear.

“What are you doing here?” 

“How did you find me!? You’re not supposed to be able to enter into your own unconsciousness!”

“It’s mine… isn’t it?” You took a step forward.

“_____? _____!” Oolade and Uzoma came running toward the border with sadness filling their eyes. “What are you doing? Come back!”

“_____, don’t leave us!”

You didn’t heed their words, but their voices wretched your heart. “You plan to do something? For what cost?”

“Destroying your core will allow me to sleep peacefully and see my family again!”

“And that’s the best way to go about it?” You ignored their calls as you pressed forward towards the child. “Your good dream will end and so shall you succumb to your pain.” Your eyes softened. “You will die a sad death. To a demon.”

“How do you know how I feel!? You just had a good dream!”

“A bittersweet dream. My parents have long since passed. They no longer live in this world. Even this cannot bring them back forever or give me peace.”

The child backed up until he was just a footstep away from your core. “Come any closer and I’ll do it!” 

You stopped your approach and knelt down, holding your arms out. “Then you choose. Live your life or succumb to an eternal slumber?”

The child had wanted a good dream of his family, to be happy, but when he saw the look on your face, the look of pain and suffering from even getting a glimpse of what life could have been with them spread over your face.

He dropped the needle and ran to you full throttle, crying his heart out as he embraced you tight around your neck.

This was the right thing to do. Even as good as the dream would be, it would hurt all the more to have it taken away.

The faux warmth of the child disappeared and your eyes fluttered open to an ungodly sight that made you want to throw up.

“What the hell!?” You stood on top of flesh. “Intestines!?”

Rengoku flashed past you by one moment and returned the next. “You’re awake, Sunflower!”

“Did the demon become a train!?”

“So it seems, yes! Kamado and Hashibira are going for the neck. Our job—”

“Is to protect the passengers at all costs.”

“Nn! You take care of this cart and I’ll do the other four!”

“Just one?”

“Your safety is of utmost importance! Aid Golden Boy and the Demon girl as needed!” He kissed you quiet before dashing off in a blaze, hushing your protests.

“That man…” you drew your Nichirin blade, “Is so…” your short dash in the cart made easy work of the disgusting, fleshy tendrils, “Annoying!” But you couldn’t argue with his command or logic. He was sound in the midst of danger.

What you did was light work, and by the looks of it, Zenitsu and Nezuko had the other three sorted as Tanjiro and Inosuke ran for the front of the train. You hummed, slightly irritated at your position. You were getting into none of the action, but you knew how fast Rengoku and Zenitsu were moving by the back and forth teetering of the carts.

‘This train could topple at any moment, especially with all of this monstrous bulk. So, there’s no telling when it’ll--’ A shrill filled the air, disorienting you as the train of muscle crumpled up and fell right off the track. If it weren’t for the demon’s flesh and that Demon Slayer footwork, people onboard would have been seriously injured.

You checked those in your assigned cart and then where Zenitsu and Nezuko were. “Are you guys alright?” 

“Mm, mm!” Nezuko nodded as you came over to the slightly slumped Zenitsu.

“Great!” You took him by the shoulders and started shaking him away. “Zenitsu? Zenitsu! Wake up!” He was still asleep, but he only incurred very few injuries as Nezuko had. “At least you two are alright. You really held your own, Nezuko. I’m a little jealous I didn’t get to help out much at all.”

Nezuko, no matter if tired or full of spunk, was just a beauty to look at. You understood why Zenitsu was so smitten with her though he feigned himself a well-groomed ladies man. She offered a soft sound as a response before she leaned up against you. 

Parts of the demon’s body slowly faded from existence, leaving now broken windows with an open view to the outside. Rengoku stood over Tanjiro, instructing him as he laid on the ground. Nezuko picked up her brother’s scent and slowly headed outside. Zenitsu followed her sleepily as you grabbed a few people and exited yourself.

Suddenly, the earth shook and dust flew everywhere as something else landed unto the field. You couldn’t believe your own eyes! The aura spiked high as it circled around the tattoo-marked Upper Moon demon. The shine in those eyes were as hungry, monstrous, and devilish as their appearance.

In the blink of an eye, he was just moments away from striking Tanjiro. “Fire Breathing! Second Form! Rising Scorching Sun!” Rengoku’s quick thinking saved him. “I don’t understand why you’d target a wounded person.”

“I thought he’d just get in the way between you and me.”

You froze. You had never seen a demon so fast like this one. It was just as scary as that time in Asakusa. The aura you ingested made you run on instinct, quelling the thoughts of fear or nervousness. 

This one looked too toxic. You’d be sick for days. Not to mention, this demon only had eyes for Rengoku.

“You and I have something to talk about? It’s our first time meeting and I already hate you.” Rengoku replied.

“Is that so?” Akaza mused. “I really hate weak humans,” in terms of Tanjiro and others, “When I look at weaklings, I just feel disgusted.”

“It looks like you and I have different moral values in regards to things.”

“I see. Then I have a wonderful proposal. How about you become a demon, too?” 

“No chance.” Rengoku declined.

“I know your strength just by looking at you. You’re a pillar, right?” Akaza’s interest in Rengoku shined through his symbolic eyes. “Your battle spirit is quite polished. You’re getting close to Supreme Territory.”

“I am the Fire Hashira, Rengoku Kyōjurō.”

“And I’m Akaza.”

They both exchanged names but withheld their stances. Akaza came to kill and eat any humans as well as convert the strongest ones into those he could. However, no matter the strength, Rengoku was defiant in every sense of the matter when it came to slaying demons and protecting the weak who could not fight for themselves.

But you weren’t out of the clear, however. “Ah, seems like I have a two for one deal.” To your chagrin, the demon noticed you next. “Why don’t you consider becoming a demon, too?” He saw your spirit as well, one with potential of being his punching bag. “As a demon, you can become stronger. That wonderful sword style of yours will keep on improving and we can fight forever! Otherwise, you’ll never reach Supreme Territory and do you know why?”

Silence.

“Because you’re human. Because you’ll grow old. Because you’ll die.” Akaza pointed his finger at Rengoku. “Become a demon, Kyōjurō. You can train for a hundred years. Two hundred years. You can become stronger.”

His face grew dark as he pointed at the likes of everyone in the vicinity, truly disgusted by what he saw before him. Rengoku looked none too pleased with you inserted into the situation. ‘Don’t worry, _____. I will protect you, the children, everyone! Nobody here will die or turn into a demon while I still stand!’ He felt overprotective over you, and found it fit to fulfill his duty not only as a demon slayer, but as a man.

Rengoku couldn’t stand that look of dread and worry filling your eyes. “Growing old and dying is the beauty of the fleeting creature called a human being. Because they grow old. Because they die. They are tremendous. Lovable. What they call ‘strength’ isn’t a word that is used in regards to the body.” He wouldn’t let Akaza spout such untrue words. “This boy isn’t weak. Don’t insult him. I’ll say it over and over again. You and I have different moral values.” His sunset eyes widen menacingly. “No matter what kind of motivation I have, I will not become a demon.”

“I see.” Akaza stanced. “Technique Deployment. Destructive Kill: Compass Needle!” Akaza prepared to fight. “If you won’t become a demon, then I’ll kill you!”

Air waves and flames lit up the area as both Rengoku and Akaza moved at blinding speeds. Pillar versus Upper Moon. You were stuck in place, unable to move. The sudden gravity of the situation skyrocketed and your body froze. Your breath shifted, becoming uneven and quick.

“DON’T MOVE!! If your wounds open, it’ll be fatal! Standby, soldier!!”

Rengoku’s serious voice brought you back, but he demanded no one interfered. Inosoke, who stood at Tanjiro’s side, felt helpless.

It was an explosion of power that erupted, and emerging from the dusty cocoon was an unscathed, healed Akaza and a battered Rengoku. “Kyōjurō…?” His blood-soaked uniform recalled his humanity, his mortality. You were in a state of distress.

Akaza praised him, and employed the idea of becoming a demon, where all his wounds, his crushed eye, and his organs would heal in moments. He’d become stronger, faster, and more powerful than before, but the answer was still no.

Rengoku raised his blade and stared on with a dazzling, one-eyed smile. “I will fulfill my duties! I won’t let anyone die here!”

“You really should become a demon so that we can fight for all eternity!”

“Full Focus Breathing. Flame Breathing. Esoterica. Ninth Style: Purgatory!”

“Technique Deployment. Destructive Kill: Obliteration Style!”

They clashed in one final blow, and the results after the dust cleared terrorized you with your unknown and worst fears.

Akaza punched through Rengoku who held his blade upright. It was but a second before he tightened his grip and slashed at Akaza’s neck which surprised the demon. Rengoku, even as death approached him, remained resilient as he caught Akaza’s other hand, tightened his innards around his arm, and dug his blade further across. As the demon screamed for release, Rengoku screamed for his defeat.

“INOSUKE, MOOOOVE!!! MOVE FOR RENGOKU-SAN!!!”

Tanjiro’s shout broke you from your shock. Opportunity to strike was now or never. At the speed they ran, they wouldn’t reach Akaza as he struggled for release as the sun was due to rise. 

‘Full Focus Breathing. Fire breathing. First form: Unknowing Fire!’

It was a split second decision that made all the difference, and thanks to Inosuke. As Akaza panicked upon seeing Inosuke preparing to jump, Akaza suddenly felt weightless below. ‘What? My legs!’

Inosuke stopped just in time, leaving the final slash to Rengoku who pushed with all of his might and brought his searing blade through Akaza’s neck.

“You sneaky bit— oh no! The sun! I have to go, I have to— AHHHH!!”

Dawn broke over the horizon and Akaza’s body disintegrated.

“Kyōjurō!” You helped him to his knees, seeing the condition that he was in. “You’re hurt. Maybe if we can get you bandaged up, we can—”

“I’m sorry, My Sunflower. My stomach won’t close. I will die very soon.” He turned and addressed Tanjiro. “Kamado, my boy. Let’s have a final chat.”

Tanjiro ran over, huffing as tears stained his cheeks. “Rengoku-san, don’t talk too much! Help will be here soon. Just hold on!”

“Just listen to me. Return to the Rengoku Estate. There should be notes about the ‘Dance of the Fire God’. My father read them  many times. I didn’t read them myself, however, so I don’t know what’s inside them. And for the both of you, tell Senjuro to pursue the path that he thinks is right, as his heart tells him to. And tell my father to take care of his body. And also...” He leaned in. “Kamado, my boy, I believe in your sister. I accept her as a member of the Demon Slayers.”

Droplets of water dripped from Tanjiro’s big eyes.

“I saw that girl protect the humans inside the train despite bleeding out. Those that protect humans and fight demons are Demon Slayers, no matter what anyone else says. Live with your chest high. You, Hashibira, Golden Boy, and her will become great pillars.” His attention finally landed on you.“My Sunflower.” He weakly raised his blood-smeared hand, touching your cheek. “Never give up. I will be watching over you.”

Rivers flowed down your desolate face. “Wait for me over the bridge when I cross. And meet me in the next life.” You found his hands and held them in yours. “I-I l-” Words became lost as you choked on every letter, unable to contain the sadness corrupting your mind and heart.

It hurt him to see you like this, and it devastated him more that he wouldn’t be able to comfort you and grow old together. “My life flashed before my eyes and my most wonderful memories were of you. Your warm smile, your touch, your praises, it makes me more determined than ever to be with you wherever we may go or be.”

The last thing he’d feel was your lips on his, stained with his blood. “I’ll never forget you, Kyōjurō!” You said with as much enthusiasm as you could. “I-I love you!”

Rengoku couldn’t help but to smile. “I love you, too, My Sunflower. Set your heart ablaze. . .”

“And move forward.”

Rengoku peered past you and Tanjiro, spotting a familiar shape. ‘Mother?’ You and Tanjiro looked back but saw nothing. But an enveloping aura past you two and surrounded Rengoku. ‘Did I do everything right? Was I able to fulfill everything I was supposed to carry out?’ 

‘You did a wonderful job.’ A smile to him, a smile to her, and his head drooped. His body rested peacefully in your arms and his fiery aura dispersed as it was no more.

‘Kyōjurō!’ You were too choked up as you sobbed loudly and ugly. Your heart ached just like it had when your parents were eaten by demons.

Your world darkened, stained in your tears and his blood. What was this victory worth now that he was gone? 

It was worth every saved life here, and you knew that. It was going to weigh on your heart how you didn’t help him sooner, but his face discouraged you. He took the brunt of Akaza’s assault and held on until the very end.

You mourned over him from that day and weeks later. No one had seen you since the Mugen Train incident. Rengoku had done so much to keep everyone safe, taking his last breath on the battlefield. It had been a hard pill to swallow, one that you had not fully been accepting of even though you were there to see him off.

Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, and Nezuko missed seeing you around. And especially Senjuro, but you needed to separate yourself and become better. You were no use to anyone lying on your back and crying your eyes out.

With the Nichirin blade in your possession, you carried on silently with a memory of him attached at your hip. His haori? Cleaned, pressed, and framed on the wall. For as long as you lived, his legend would be immortalized. On your shoulders, you carried the burden of loss. Sometimes, it’d hurt so much, your chest would heave and you’d clutch part of your left breast, where the pain ran deep as tears stung your eyes.

You left Senjuro with a kind yet sad smile as you didn’t want to hear the ugly mutterings of his father’s distant, drunk voice. His aura dripped in a drab blue, his melancholy nature surely melting at the loss of not only his wife but now his eldest son.

You hadn’t forgotten about those you loved. You’d be back for them. - - - - - - - - - -  Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII (Part 1) / (Part 2) / (Part 3)

[blueskiesandstarrynights]

Whatever Happens I'ma Stand Tall- Jatp time loop au, Chapter 2: Loop 2, Didn't We Already Do This?

And here's chapter 2! I'm glad to get this one done, it's been bugging me for a bit.

Word Count: 2120

Tag list: @enby-chaos-fox @lagoonaaa

If anyone else wants to be added, just let me know!

Masterpost of chapters (x)

Looks like today is gonna be another sunny day, with temperatures in the low to mid eighties.

Julie awoke with a gasp and scrambled to shut off her alarm and wipe away her damp cheeks from her tears, trying to figure out what had just happened. She nearly knocked her phone off her nightstand trying to grab it, but once she got it she checked the date on her phone and nearly started crying with relief when she saw the date: Saturday, March 7, 2020.

It wasn’t real.

It wasn’t real.

Whatever she thought she had just experienced was just a dream. A nightmare created from her fears that today’s plan didn’t work. It was ok. They’re going to play the Orpheum and her band is going to crossover. She’d still lose them, but she had already accepted that.

But she had to be sure. Had to be sure it really was just a nightmare and her boys are still here. She quickly got dressed and dashed down to the studio only to find the guys a few seconds from poofing away.

Reggie noticed her first and called out, “Oh hey Julie! We were just about to-”

He cut himself off once he saw that Julie’s eyes had filled with tears and asked, “Whoa, Julie are you okay?”

She wiped her tears with a soft smile before saying, “Yeah, yeah I’m okay. I just had this really vivid dream that you guys were jolted out of existence and I couldn’t save you.”

“Well you don’t have to worry, it was just a nightmare, we’re right here and not going to go down without a fight.” Luke smiled at her.

Julie nodded and wiped the final tear tracks from her face before smirking and saying, “Don’t you guys have a gig to secure? You’re not crossing over without it.”

“We were just about to go and check on Wil- the gig,” Alex replied, looking anxious to leave and check on someone who she assumed to be Willie, Alex’s ghost friend who was going to be helping them get the gig for tonight. Julie wondered if he was more than just a “ghost friend” and filed that piece of information for later as Luke gave her a salute and a “See ya later boss,” before poofing away with Alex and Reggie in tow.

Julie took a deep breath to steady herself and push down the anxious thoughts and worries that had pushed their way to the front of her mind since the guys had left.

But every second that passed meant they were one second closer to being jolted out of existence. Every second that passed brought them closer and closer to their doom. Every second brought them closer and closer to that horrifying nightmare she had.

But it was just a nightmare, she tried to remind herself. It wasn’t real and she was going to help the guys peacefully cross over tonight. But then why was her dream so vivid and detailed? Was it-

No. She steadied her breathing and made her way back inside the studio, worrying about this wasn’t going to do anything, anything good at least. She decided to spend the morning in song writing in the studio, but when the guys came back with info about the Orpheum, the events of the day started unfolding in an eerily familiar pattern. A pattern suspiciously like her vivid nightmare from the night before. By the time she was at the Orpheum and the guys were once again running late, she brought up her concerns to Flynn.

“Have you ever had deja vu? Or had an oddly vivid dream that came true in real life?” Julie asked abruptly, causing Flynn to pause munching on the snacks that had been left in the room.

She gave Julie an odd look before replying, “Closest thing I can think of is a vague sense of deja vu when I was younger, but nothing vivid. Any particular reason you’re asking me this?”

Julie sighed. “Kinda. Last night I had this super vivid dream of today that ended with the guys being jolted out of existence. I failed and they experienced pain up until the moment they were just erased from all existence. And normally that wouldn’t scare me, because it was just a dream, but every single thing that happened in the dream has happened, and I’m terrified I’m going to have to watch them die all over again!”

Flynn placed the snacks on the table so she could move closer to Julie and give her a hug.

“C’mon that’s not going to happen. It’s not going to play out, it’s just a dream. And even if it did, they’re going to cross over, this is their unfinished business. My guess is the part in the dream where they die was simply your brain creating what you fear is going to happen. As for the rest of the day...well I can’t really comment on that, I’m neither a psychic nor a psychologist.”

There was a knock on the door followed by the stage manager calling out, “Hey Julie! It’s time!”

“Just a second!” she called back.

“Look, not to sound weird for using a dream of all things as a source of valid information, but what happened in the dream at this point? Did they come?” Flynn inquired.

Julie looked like she was holding back tears as she shook her head and said, “Yeah, they come in partway through the performance, that’s not even my main worry right now. I just-” she rests her forehead against Flynn’s. “I don’t know if I can-”

The stage manager once again knocks on the door and announces, “Hey Julie! You’re on!”

With too many emotions swirling around, Julie pushed her way out the door and into the alley at the side of the Orpheum, ignoring her best friend's shouts behind her. As she takes a breath of the stink of Hollywood Boulevard, she finally lets out the tears she had been holding in.

“I don’t know if you can hear me mom, but I don’t think I can do this. If I was supposed to help the guys, I don’t think I can. They’re not here, and I’m scared that even if they do come, it won’t matter. I’m worried they’re not going to come, but I’m terrified that I’ll have to watch them die; I don’t know if I can do that a second time. I just-” she gives a soft sniffle before saying, “I miss you so much. Every day. And it hurts every day that you’re not with us. The guys have helped, playing music with them makes me feel closer to you. Every time I look into the audience, I can see you smiling and cheering me on.

I miss you Mom. More than you can ever know. I miss being held in your arms and being told everything’s going to be okay, because even when all the odds say it’s not, you still made me believe it anyway.” She’s trying to wipe her tears from her eyes when she notices a woman next to her offering her a flower. It’s a dahlia. A red dahlia, like the ones Mom used to love. She hugs the flower to her chest and she feels like she can feel everything that made her mom who she was. She can hear her mothers laugh ringing in her ears, right next to the beautiful melody that is her voice, and she can feel the warmth of her hugs, can smell the flowery perfume she always used, and she can almost see her mom’s signature dark curls.

With the dahlia in hand, Julie barrels back through the Orpheum side door, heading straight for the stage, stopping only to show Flynn the dahlia and declare, “Signs,” before rushing onto the stage, not even thinking about what she was doing. Seeing the dahlia had reminded Julie of Flynn’s theory that her mom was behind everything, and took the flower as a sign to go up on stage. To keep going. To stand tall.

And she did. She performed the Orpheum, and her boys came and being up on that stage gave her a ridiculous amount of euphoria. After the guys disappeared and she was hounded by her family and Flynn backstage, the adrenaline from the night almost caused her to forget about the guys. Almost.

Once they get back home, Julie wants nothing more than to go to the studio, but is stopped when Carlos asks her, “Hey Julie, can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Uh, sure just give me a minute.”

“Ok, I’ll wait up. Don’t ghost me,” he responded, adding a completely unsubtle wink at the end, causing Julie’s eyes to grow wide in shock. Had he figured it out? If so, how? Or was this just another one of his theories that didn’t hold any merit?

She shook her head, deciding to deal with that later, before turning to her dad and saying, “Just a minute,” and headed for the studio.

She opened the doors and stared inside the darkened room, taking a large shuddery breath, scared of what she’d find if she turned on the light. Scared that the guys’ didn’t cross over, but instead are here, collapsed on the floor, moments away from dying a second time. Not wanting to prolong this any further, she reached over to the switch on the wall and turned the light on, and lo and behold, there they were piled on top of each other just as she feared, and seeing them like this caused her breathing to grow more ragged, which wasn’t helped by a jolt that simultaneously racked the boys bodies.

They coughed and moaned from the jolt but forced themselves up once they saw Julie and all tried to put on brave faces for her.

“Julie what are you doing here, why didn’t you just go straight to bed?” Reggie asked.

“I said she’d come out here, but nobody ever listens to me,” Alex complains.

Julie sniffled and pointlessly tried to wipe her eyes before saying, “I, uh, wanted to say goodbye and to thank you guys.”

Watching them now feels so much worse than the dream. She knew playing the Orpheum wasn’t going to work, yet she still performed there anyway. Now there was nothing she could do. They were being forced to relive the pain of dying over and over again, until they were wiped from existence entirely. There were so many things she wanted to do with them, and things they wanted to do. In fact, there was something they needed to do, considering they were ghosts in the first place and therefore had unfinished business. They had so much ahead of them, yet their time was being cut short too early, just like their lives in ‘95.

She collapses onto the floor and tries to get as close to them as she can without passing through them; doing so would just be another painful reminder of the separation between her and them, and how much they’re about to be separated permanently.

She numbly listens to them as they list off their final requests just as they did last time, before they’re finally killed and she is left in an empty studio, left with nothing but instruments that won’t be used again and her tears. Oddly enough, just like in her dream she finds the world being taken over by a blinding white light accompanied with still quiet before-

Looks like today is gonna be another sunny day, with temperatures in the low to mid eighties.

Julie’s eyes shoot open and quickly shuts off the alarm trying to make sense of what just happened. Why was she back in her room? What was that white light? Her theory about a dream turned out to be garbage since you can’t have a dream within a dream right? Confused, Julie reached over to her nightstand to grab her phone to check the date and what she saw nearly made her choke on air.

Saturday, March 7, 2020

Saturday, March 7, 2020

That was yesterday’s date. And now that she thought about it, it was the date for the day before as well. Panicking now, Julie goes straight for Flynn’s contact and texts her:

Julie: 911

Julie: Flynn

Julie: Get here asap

Julie: Somethings wrong

Flynn: What

Flynn: Jules whats wrong

Julie: Idk

Julie: Its weird

Julie: Just come here itll be easier to explain in person

Flynn: Alright be there in 5

Julie closed her phone, sighed, fell back into her pillows and groaned. This was going to be a long day. Again.

[enigmaincrimson]

I think the problem people tend the have with you is the fact that you tend to guilt trip the dash on a constant basis along with the fact that your character/characters can borderline godmod at times. Then there's the way of rambling incoherently while blowing other people off and just holding a conversation by yourself. I think these reasons can put people off from interacting with you and even speaking with you and despite this being pointed out to you, you still keep doing this.

It was never my intention.

Maybe I've been sitting in the silence with my own thoughts for too long... all I see to do these days is sit and curn around violently while constantly worrying about saying the something in a way that it isn't clear or understood.

It's not that I don't want to hold a conversation... it's more that I'm afraid I messed up what I said and end up flailing wildly trying to find a footing that I'm not even sure is even there.

After all, its not like people haven't already judged me before they even met me. I don't think the same as you do and maybe I have a terrible time expressing my feelings and getting my thoughts across.

I rarely ever speak that much because it feels like I'm stuck in a mad delirium... like a spring compressed tightly and never allowed release. Every single word I say feels like someone I know might get hurt because some idiot with a grudge over the color of a theme I used five years ago might start the whole mess all over again.

Did you ever think to ask if the other person is hurting as well? I have, many times... but my words are never heard... so I have to watch everyone struggle in pain while all I can do is trash about and scream at nothing.

When I say that I am not happy when other people are not happy... I am not sure how else to put it. There's so much I wanted to share, but I'm forced to keep silent to the point I could burst.

Every day I constantly wait, fret and stew as I wonder about the wellbeing of my partners... yet I cannot speak to them because they are no longer there. I mourn their loss every moment of every day... yet I normally keep that to myself because saying about it could hurt them.

Every single message I send, I wait for the bomb to drop because the person I might have approached might have known someone who suddenly decided that I was the scum of the earth over something as petty like the wind was blowing in the wrong direction that day and somehow it had to be my fault.

Both me and pat partners been blacklisted, message bomed, tag bombed, had threads stolen, blamed for hate anonymous, impersonated, and more just because someone didn't like what faceclaim I was using... and honestly. They're still around looking for an existing to write more callout posts just because they decided that I was the source of all of their problems and me committing suicide would be the best thing that could ever happen to them.

Not that IRL has been any better... it's a wonder why I haven't done what they wanted to happen and just curled up and died already.

Sure, I don't hold grudges, I try to move on and forget, but they definitely do not want to let things go. I could never forgive myself for hurting another person, even if they deserved it... you wanted me to speak, so here I am speaking. You have no idea how long I sit here in silence... just wishing and hoping that just maybe one of the few people that were willing to see me as something more than a cheap novelty to pass the time or pad their own egos would come back.

However, they rarely do... and I just keep waiting, trying to reach out... trying not to get hurt again. However, I doubt you'd even care to comprehend even a little of what I'm trying to say here. The person I am most angry at is myself. I can't be perfect or flawless, I don't have much to offer either... yet everyone seems to ask so much.

So tell me this... did anyone ever ask you if you were in pain? Or did you ignore them like everything else?

I've tried so many times to be there... but here I am... still waiting, watching, and hoping. I'm not allowed to have a voice it seems... and I've tried to hard to give everyone the time and space they asked for... but most never even try to speak to me in the first place.

Maybe I am just a waste of time and space... maybe I am the creep of an asshole everyone makes me out to be. Everyone keeps putting up walls these days and wonders why nobody comes. Who cares what this hated old relic has to say... did anyone ever ask why that is so? No, they never did.

Maybe I am going insane after all these years of having to deal with being treated like trash... but you don't go into people's inboxes and try to dictate everything about their lives and then try to rally people to your cause when they say no. Especially when it is something they have little to no control over... like how Tumblr likes to eat messages or the app likes to crash and act up.

Did anyone ever ask for my side of the story through all that is happened? No, very few have. I'm the bad guy by default because the other guy has pretty pictures and everyone pays homage to them like they didn't just stick a knife in their back not that long ago.

Seriously though, even if I could provide evidence of what is going on, I couldn't use it because everyone has already decided on the verdict and proving your innocence just makes you look more guilty... same goes for trying to resolve the issue more peacefully... since people like that want your head on a pike as an example and if they can't get that, they sure will try to make sure that you won't get a fair trial.

So yes... I do sound paranoid, but with my track record... online and off, it's well earned.

And no, just because you pushed someone through a church window and it broke doesn't mean that you have the right to beat them to death with sticks and stones... or hunt them down every Sunday when that didn't work as planned.

You don't blame the rock for the thrower"s actions. Even if the rock happens to be another person who just happened to be there.

And yes, I sound crazy... but it's not like most of you even cared to listen.

Go ahead and be angry at me if you want... just try to remember that it is my first instinct to put myself in harm's way in some clumsy attempt to shield others.

Hate me all you want, it's not like I feel much anymore.

[eyepatchdate]

I saw this bouncing around my dash and decided to fill it out myself for fun :)  I decided to not double-list any games, and I tried to mix up the companies I used too so that the list would be more unique.

Long post, so I’m doing a readmore for my longwinded part lol.

(read more)

Favorite Game: Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic 2: The Sith Lords - I could talk about this game forever.  How it tears apart the Star Wars universe from within, how it creates a compelling story while challenging the usual themes, etc.  I could talk for ages about the characters and how their motivations slot in place, and how this game lends itself to interpretation and analysis alongside roleplay.  It’s just a wonderful game, one I deeply love and will always love.  It’s a game that isn’t afraid to have you talk to other characters for twenty or thirty minutes at a time and honestly I’m always riveted at every line.  This game deserves the cult fanbase it has, but I think there’s a lot the fanbase misses in appreciating this game.  (Note...gameplay is a little janky and a community made mod restores a lot content that was cut before shipping-the game wasn’t properly finished).

Best Story:  Fallout New Vegas - It’s the setting that makes the story here, and all the moving pieces and factions alongside the main conflict really make this game stand out.  There’s so many little pieces to find along the way in the world and the way the main quest splits based on who you want in power feels important--and you are choosing a future for this whole region.

Favorite Art Style: The Witness - This game is peacefully wonderful with its visuals.  There are wonderful nature scenes and nests of wires and panels spreading in various parts of the island that are fascinating to look at.  The environment is half of the gameplay in most areas, so it’s important to look around even though exploration is not really the gameplay.  You find puzzles in the world, even in nature, and it’s fascinating.  The colors are bright and beautiful.  There is even a map in the middle of the island inside of a lake that helps you track your progress if you notice it (it isn’t like a normal ‘map’).

Favorite Soundtrack: Shin Megami Tensei IV - I love video game soundtracks, but SMTIV is something special.  The music booms in ways that make you really understand the atmosphere of the world, and there’s a great mix of different kinds of tracks for different places.  I love the tracks for the other worlds you enter, and the themes of the different routes are done so well.  Some of the music draws from past SMT games, but the remixes done for this game really are stunning to me, and there’s so many fantastic original tracks.

Hardest Game: I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream - I love this game but I literally never touch it without a walkthrough, which is why it gets to be the hardest game on the list, despite being a point and click adventure game lol.  Also just emotionally this game is challenging too, but I definitely mean this more in terms of getting a ‘perfect run’.

Funniest Game: The Stanley Parable - Trying to make this list has taught me that I don’t really play many ‘funny games’.  I don’t know if a game where multiple endings demand that you kill yourself should count as a ‘funniest game’, but it is also a game where the narrator tells you to stare at a fern and memorize its features, so....it counts.

Game I Like that is Hated: RWBY Grimm Eclipse - I’ve been playing this game since it was in early access and have loved it the whole time.  I find the gameplay soothing and fun, and I like playing the different characters.  It’s a game I play to chill out and just enjoy some fun battle mechanics.  It’s a fun game and I’ve spent over 100 hours in it, so I hope I like it, lol.

Game I Hate that is Liked:  Nier Automata - Neither this game’s gameplay or story impress me, and the fact that you have to replay basically the same stuff from a more boring-to-play-character’s pov in order to SEE all of the plot is a huge damper on the experience.  The story, to me, someone who engages with a lot of robot-focused fiction, is far from impressive or new, and it hardly engages with genre specifics at all, let alone in a new or interesting way.  I view this game as ‘a story with robots in it’ rather than ‘a story about robots’, which, to me, is a detriment.

Underrated: Nevermind - This game is amazing and very unheard of--and when it is heard of, it has been marketed incorrectly.  Nevermind seems like a horror game, and does market itself as one a bit, but it’s much more than that.  It’s more about trauma, recovery, therapy, etc.  This is a game that is so mindful about the topics it engages in that I am impressed by it every time.  It’s heavy with symbolism and character, despite lacking conversations or other similar game mechanics.  This is a lovely game that I really wish more people knew about-`p5-all of the patients are so interesting, and the focus on recovery and mental health is impressive.

Overrated:  Fire Emblem - I sort of mean this as the series as a whole really.  I have enjoyed the entries I have played somewhat, but I overall consider the series much less impressive than I was led to believe by others.  The gameplay especially is not impressive to me in any regard, even though I sometimes do find myself enjoying it.  The stories are alright, but many of them are weighed down by the gameplay and as a writer and person who likes to analyze writing, it’s very hard to do so when it isn’t able to fully exist under the chains the gameplay forces on it.  There are ways to mix gameplay and story well, Fire Emblem has not really done that in any of the entries I’ve played.  That being said, I don’t regret playing them, and I will occasionally replay, but I consider them mediocre games at best.

Best Voice Acting: Devil Survivor 2 - I love the voice acting in this game.  I feel like all the characters are really suited to their voices, and it’s really easy for me to visualize their voices.  They really bring the game to life and make both the dramatic and the funny scenes more enjoyable.

Worst Voice Acting: Jedi Knight Jedi Academy - I love this game, I really do, but some of the voice acting is janky.  Some of it is okay too--I think Kyle Katarn’s voice actor does fine, and some of the others I like NOW but hated when I was a kid, but the male protagonist voice in this game is just awful.  Which is bad when Jennifer Hale is the female voice actress lol.  His performance is passable though unless you’re playing darksided--the darksided ending to the game lacks all punch when you’re playing the male protagonist.

Favorite Male:  Battler Ushiromiya from Umineko no Naku Koro Ni - He’s the protagonist for most of the visual novels and I adore him utterly, especially once you move past episode 2.  He’s a wonderful character who I care about deeply.  I love his drive and how he fights--he’s someone who is easy to cheer for.  He matures well throughout the series and his character development is just wonderful.

Favorite Female:  Naoto Shirogane from Persona 4 - I really like how Naoto fits so well in the game, especially for being a final recruit--oftentimes the final recruit of Persona games (post 3) have a bit of a more difficult time feeling right with the group.  Naoto works really well though, and I love her struggles and story as well.  I think the difficulties she has concerning living as a woman in her field hit very deep to a problem that has existed for a very long time.

Favorite Protagonist: Connor of Daventry from King’s Quest 8 Mask of Eternity - I’m like, one of four fans of this character in the world, lol.  KQ8 is not a very well liked game and it does have a lot of issues, both with age and with how much of a departure it is from the series prior to it.  It’s strange to take a puzzle adventure game and make it a hybrid with what basically is a shooter, and it doesn’t really work.  Add to that the fact that you spend most of your time in the game without anyone around to talk to and it leads to this really polarizing and weird experience.  For me, Conner goes through what I would consider to be the ‘Ultimate Nightmare Scenario”.�� Everyone in the world is turned to stone except him (and he survived out of mere chance) and so now it’s up to him, practically alone, to save the entire world.  There is no game lonelier than this.  I adore him for his bravery in the face of it, and how he just picks up to do what must be done because someone should do it, and if no one else can, then he will.  I also really love how he apologizes to people who are encased in stone while he takes money from their houses to help him on his journey.  I really do think he went back after the game was over and gave everyone heaps of gold to pay them back with interest lol.

Favorite Village:  Oakvale from Fable - The first Fable is the only one I really like, and it was one of the games I played when I was little, so the hometown in the game always meant a lot to me.  I like how you grow up there and how your tragic backstory is there--and then how you get to return to the town years later after you’ve come into your own, and you can see it completely rebuilt.  I like to spend a lot of my time in this town, just wandering around it and playing the minigames.  Even though I have a house in every town, Oakvale is where my hero calls home.

Most Hated Character:  Merril from Dragon Age 2 - I don’t really want to lay into how I feel about Merril, but what I will say is that it was suggested to me that I totally ignore her when playing, and I did so.  I only met her for her quest, dropped her off in town, and literally never spoke to her or interacted for the rest of the game.  I had a much better experience for it, honestly.  She appeared after I made my choice in the end of the game, which felt weird since I hadn’t spoken to her in several ingame years, but other than that, the game was totally fine without her.  I sort of just wish you could kill characters in DA2 the way you can in DAO, then I’d just do that, tbh.  It doesn’t suit very many (or any) of the characters I rp in DA2 to keep her around or support her in any way.

First Game I Played: Mixed up Mother Goose Deluxe - I’m not actually sure if this is the FIRST game I’ve ever played or not, but it’s one of the first I played alone as a kid.  I really loved it--this is probably what created my love for point and click adventures, and the game was very silly and fun.

Favorite Company: Bioware - I’ve always been a sucker for Bioware games, ever since Knights of the Old Republic 1 was my favorite childhood game.  I love how they do stories and party members, and while I’m not a fan of all of their games, I really love what they’ve made and their style of storytelling and character driven plot.  Even though sometimes their stories get cliche, I think the suit video games well and most of my early gaming was within their games.

Hated Company: EA - Bioware truly only started to go to shit after the EA acquisition, so I fucking hate EA.   I know Bioware had issues before EA too, but I definitely don’t think EA has helped the situation whatsoever.

Depressing Game: The Beginner’s Guide - I relate to this game as a creator and a writer, and it affects me deeply because of the story it tells and the questions it raises.  It makes me reflect on how I think of myself as a creator, and it reminds me of friendships I used to have.

Creepy Game:  The Path - God, I love this game.  It’s just aimlessly wandering around and finding symbolic scenery and watching your current character comment on it.  Then, you go off to find your girl’s wolf, and each one is different and unique to her, and you watch it ‘kill’ her--and facing her wolf is the only way each girl can truly mature.  Whenever you get to grandmother’s house, the camera switches to first person, and your eyes keep closing, so you can only see while clicking to move.  It forces you to keep moving so that you can see, but since you are moving, you only get to see things somewhat vaguely.  It’s got a great atmosphere, and I love the symbolic storytelling.

Happy Game: Eastshade - This game is so sweet.  There’s some drama around to with many of the quests, but I like this as an rpg without combat, and I think this would be a really good kids game.  There’s a lot to see and explore, and the game was made to be really pretty so that you want to paint several aspects of it.  It’s really lovely to just wander around in this game and bike around the area, painting anything that suits your fancy.  As long as you don’t finish the main quest, you’re free to wander, and materials do respawn, so you essentially can infinitely paint once you get far enough.

Favorite Ending: Virtue’s Last Reward - I love the questions this game asks and where the ending goes.  It thematically ties together--the whole reason the game itself exists is to get the attention of a ‘higher being’--the player, essentially.  I love how it plays with that concept, and even though the final game in the series doesn’t entirely pick this idea up where this game left it, standalone this game is stunning in how it comes together.

[p0publur]

mink makes a very good point (on their multi) that I have been mentioning for months now to my friends, but also something jackie pointed out, too! that the sonic rpc has an abuser problem. 

It was a dumpster fire before Tycho showed up, I promise you that--he just came by to warm his hands on the already burning wreck and threw some gasoline on it to make it brighter. 

I’m not an expert on how to fix this mess, but I really believe that setting better boundaries is one of the biggest keys. And not to turn that into a “policing content” thing, because no, the only one who is responsible for your boundaries is YOU, not anybody else. You decide when it’s time to say “no”, etc. 

Also, I think we could all benefit from not being passive aggressive and vague posting on the dash! I get it, it’s sometimes scary to be direct with people, but why we gotta fight? There are some people I’ve seen who’ve straight up just fuckin misspoke, or spoke in ignorance, and we’re jumping down their throats?

I feel like it’s very obvious when something is like, ignorance and when something is malice. I would hope that if I said something stupid, my friends would pull me aside in private and talk to me about it, rather than making a bloodbath on the dash. 

We tried to talk to Tycho in private, all of us, and you saw what happened. We wanted to sort it out peacefully, but he wouldn’t let that be a thing. He was really dangerous one on one, as you’ve likely seen in the documents.

Now, what to do about this?  I think discussion is extremely important. I think we should communicate better, and work to deescalate situations instead of blowing them up more. If you can see a misunderstanding happening, maybe you can reach out to either party and find some way to talk things out. Not everyone is good with that, and it’s not your responsibility to do it, but the amount of outright vitriol in this rpc is at RIDICULOUS levels. Like, it was at the drop of a HAT that somebody could come in and turn us all against each other.

Asking for proof that isn’t just “random clips” of things. Tycho took one thing I said (”I’ve been really unfair to you”) and started flashing that around as proof that i was abusive, and everybody ate it up. AGH! But when Jackie asked to see proof, what did he do? He LASHED OUT, he got MAD and ACCUSATORY. All Jackie wanted was proof of Hebby (me) being abusive. 

Bullies hate it when you ask for proof. Bullies hate it when you can’t be controlled, when you won’t let them control you. Bullies hate it when you have standards and boundaries that you won’t lower for them. I promise you that, it’s true. 

And it’s right, like Mink said, (and it’s a hard pill to swallow but) if someone who wasn’t so big in the rpc had brought this up, it would have either been demonized or ignored! And that’s not great, either. I don’t really know what to do about that, because I personally do not have the time or energy to get to know everyone, but I do think it’s totally possible for all of us to exist in our parts in the sonic rpc without ripping into one another.

But even if we don’t all interact, I think a solid gold rule is “if you see something, say something”. If it feels bad, speak up. If it looks bad, speak up. Don’t go along with someone being toxic, even if they’re your friend. Stand up to bullies or bullying behavior. Having a friend who stands up to you when you’re being a jerk is invaluable. 

BE KIND, BUT TAKE NO SHIT.

so... here’s my ideas! and there’s no deadline either so, take your time.

1. establish healthy boundaries. there’s so many resources on this. it is okay to say “No” and you don’t even have to explain yourself. You are not responsible for other peoples’ emotions. 2. cultivate environments where people are not intent on misunderstanding you! friends who may not NEED you in their life but want you around is so so SO valuable 3. Discuss rather than point and give passive aggressive commentary. If I don’t have to ready “ummm okay sweaty ;)” ever again on my dash it wouldn’t be SOON ENOUGH! 4. Deescalate, NOT elevate!  5. ASK FOR PROOF. IT IS NOT BAD OR EVIL TO ASK FOR PROOF. A healthy level of skepticism does not make you bad. 

I can’t promise that these will be a CURE ALL, but god damn, they gotta mean something.

[cxptain-carol]

𝐢𝐢. 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐨𝐲 | 𝐟.𝐰.

◊ part one - part two - part three

◊ summary: madam pomfrey’s helper, y/n, doesn’t care for the ever-popular sport that is quidditch. but throw in an injured fred weasley, a week together in the hospital wing, and a sprinkle of innocent flirting and she might just have to change her mind.

◊ pairing: fifth year!fred weasley x fem!reader

◊ word count: 2.7k

◊ warnings: most of the story’s set in the hospital wing (no blood is mentioned), there’s one (1) no-no word in this part, not really a warning but reader is implied to have a female best friend

◊ genre: good ol’ fluff

◊ this part includes monday, tuesday & Wednesday

Hurriedly, you fixed your bed in the silence of the dormitory. All of your friends were asleep: it was the crack of dawn according to the clock on your bedside table. You could only imagine the green grass that shone with the silver dew of Monday morning and the sweet, serene ripples on the lake. Sadly, you had no time to watch the sunrise.

You hastily hung your tie around your neck and tucked your shirt into your pleated skirt as you slipped on your shoes, trying to be as quiet as possible as to not wake the other girls. Spraying on a bit of perfume and clasping a dainty necklace at the back of your neck, you packed your bag for the day, grabbed your wand, and dashed out of the room.

The empty common room was slightly messy from the night before. Your house, for some reason, was always in a festive mood on Sundays and most of you clambered into the common room to hang out and eat (as someone always brought food).

Quickly leaving the common room behind, you made your way through the grand staircases���which, at this time, were dressed in the pink sunlight of the morning that reflected on the stone walls and glimmered in the paintings’ golden frames—and to the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey had given you a key to unlock the doors and since you assumed she was still sleeping, you retrieved it from the bottom of your bag and unlocked the heavy wooden doors before tiptoeing through.

To your right, the brunette girl from yesterday was sitting up against her pillows and reading a small scarlet book. She looked up and gave you a friendly smile which you cheerfully returned. In the corner of your eye, you saw a head of unmistakable bright red hair and turned to your left.

Crossing the room, you observed Fred as he slept peacefully. His freckled face was showered with that same pink sunlight and you felt a weird feeling in your chest: like it wasn’t just the shimmering sunrise, you were seeing Fred in a different light.

Trying to pay that no mind, you dropped your bag and looked at his ankle. It didn’t look any worse and there were no visible signs of pain on his face. You felt a little sad at that as he’d probably be discharged quickly. Wait, why would that be sad?

Once again attempting to shake your confusing feelings, you checked on the girl and left Madam Pomfrey a little note on her desk to let her know you had stopped by. Taking one last look at Fred, you scooped up your bag and left to sit alone on the barren grand staircases before they filled with students, hungry for breakfast and groaning at the existence of Monday.

-

You sighed and dragged your feet along the brightly lit corridor. Monday’s classes had just ended and all you wanted to do was get back to your common room, take a shower and curl up in your four-poster. But instead, you were walking to the hospital wing, trying to ignore the many students who sat lounging on benches and chatting with friends.

Wrapping your fingers around the dark brown handle, you pulled open one of the doors and stepped inside. It was much quieter compared to the hall outside, thankfully. You hung up your bag at the door and moved towards the back of the room to greet Madam Pomfrey.

You had almost made it to the door of her office before she came bursting out, holding a large bottle and whispering to herself. She hurried over to a small boy in the third bed on the left who looked awfully green.

Worried, you came over to see what was going on.

“Particularly nasty potion, dear. I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to take this afternoon off,” Madam Pomfrey replied, now stirring something in a glass jar.

“I guess I’ll be on my way then; see you tomorrow!” You skipped over to the only occupied bed on the right side and peered around the privacy screen.

“Freddie,” you whispered in a sing-song voice.

He was awake, but in some state of rest.

“It’s Y/N. I’m going to do my homework now. Just wanted to say hi.”

“Bye, Y/N,” he breathed out, and you let out a silent little “aww” at his half-asleep self.

But the boy across the room let out a horrible retching noise and you cringed, shooting Fred one last glance before making your way to the doors, grabbing your bag, and setting off in the direction of the library.

-

The next day was much worse.

You had spent so long working into Monday night that you were completely tired out. You slept in, only waking up to your best friend shaking you, and spilled pumpkin juice down the front of your robes at breakfast.

Thinking that the day couldn’t get any worse, you confidently volunteered your Strengthening Solution to be critiqued by Snape in front of the whole class. It turned out that you had changed directions when stirring it (how he could even tell that was beyond you) and he promptly took away five of your house points.

After being bitten by a Fanged Geranium in Herbology and dropping one of your books over the side of a staircase, knocking out a second-year Gryffindor which lost you five more points, you were ready to walk right out of class and hide in the library. The final straw came when Professor McGonagall dropped a graded essay on your desk which you instantly knew would bring your Transfiguration average down significantly. Thankfully, you had chosen a seat towards the back of the room when you started to cry.

Your friends were busy after class so that left you alone, trudging through the hallways, easily the most unhappy-looking student in the entire castle. It didn’t help that you passed by a Ravenclaw boy in your year who audibly remarked “She looks like hell” to his friend.

Now a confusing mixture of sadness and anger, you dragged yourself into the hospital wing and hung your bag beside the door. Right next to the hooks was the sink which you turned on quietly, running your hands under the water and lathering them in soap before reaching over to dry them off on the hanging light blue towel.

Fred was awake when you carried over some fresh bandages and set them down beside him.

“Y/N, I was hoping to ask if-” he paused, watching you as you sat down on his left side.

“Aw, Y/N no,” his happy expression turned into concern: you could tell he noticed your tear stained cheeks and red eyes.

“What happened?” You softened at the genuine care in his voice.

“Well,” you began with a sigh, “I had a shit day.”

“Aw, I’m sorry-” Fred inhaled sharply and shifted, causing you to look at him oddly.

“What was that?”

He had seemingly regained his composure and glanced at you briefly as if he hadn’t just malfunctioned in front of you.

“Thought about calling you something, decided against it,” he replied. You smirked, already feeling a little bit better.

“And what name was that?” You questioned. Laughing as if you had said something amusing, he cutely tapped the tip of your nose.

“Now that, Y/N, is something I will never tell you.”

Shaking your head with a sigh, you looked out the window, inching closer to the table at Fred’s bedside and resting your elbow, which propped up your cheek, there.

“Something bothering you?” He asked quietly. “Did Snape bully you?”

You chuckled, turning to look at Fred. That nervous feeling in the pit of your stomach returned. Everything about him was suddenly very attractive to you and you felt yourself sweat as you locked eyes.

“Yeah, a little bit, I guess.” Subconsciously, you chewed your lip.

“That’s it—as soon as I get out of here, I’m fighting him.”

You chuckled, not missing the way Fred looked at you with a slight grin on his lips.

“Why so intense, though? You’ve never paid me much attention in Potions,” you replied, looking at him quizzically.

“Rubbish. You’re adorable, how could I not watch you?”

His words made you freeze, your cheeks now incredibly warm. You hid your face in your hands, peeking at him through a gap between your fingers.

“Oh, don’t be like that. You know you’re cute.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Sitting up straight again, you tried to ignore your heated cheeks and summoned a cup of water which you hurriedly drank.

“Besides that, you have quite a bit of work to catch up on,” you said hastily, summoning from your bag the list you had printed neatly for him. Before handing it to him, your eyes landed on the lengthy Charms homework you had to finish tonight. Eyes widening, you shoved the list into his hands.

“Fred, I’m sorry, but I think I have to go. I forgot about that Charms assignment,” your face fell: you really didn’t want to leave him.

“Aw Y/N, it’s okay.” He shrugged, setting the list down as he tilted his head, looking at you in a way that you could only describe as sweet. You changed your mind.

“You know, maybe I can get a pass from Flitwick since I work here,” you mumbled, sitting back down and returning his affectionate gaze.

“I’ll stay.”

-

You woke up happy Wednesday morning. Despite the unfinished Charms in your bag, you had a spring in your step as you made your bed and got ready for the day. Your friends were slightly confused by this behavior, but you were far too shy to explain it.

You and Fred had spent Tuesday evening talking, once again, about whatever crossed your minds. Turns out, he’s smarter than he lets on. You let slip accidentally that you don’t really mind him and his brother and their constant pranks, which led to him teasing that he would make sure to do something extra special just for you. Amidst the laughing and joy, you two talked about school and your friends as well. Fred apparently couldn’t stand Cedric Diggory, for not only beating Harry to the snitch in Gryffindor’s only loss, but also just being all-around perfect. You reassured him that no one was perfect and that you’d take his company over Diggory’s any day, which made his ears turn a light shade of pink.

Remembering all this, you fought the urge to skip through the empty halls before breakfast on your way to the hospital wing. When you reached the doors, you swung them open cheerfully and set down your bag. Madam Pomfrey was busy with a girl you had never seen before and told you to look at two coughing boys laying in adjacent beds.

You took their temperatures and asked them some questions (they had been clumsily messing around with jinxes, to no one’s surprise) before you heard someone behind you.

“Psst!”

You turned around and raised your eyebrows at Fred, who was laying with the covers pulled up to his chin.

“Good morning, Y/N!” He whisper-yelled.

“Morning, Freddie,” you replied quickly, turning back to the boys.

“Y/N?”

You turned around again, eyebrows raised once more.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked this in a somewhat timid voice.

Closing your eyes as if to say “Are you serious?”, you shook your head and swiveled around.

“As I was saying-”

“We heard it,” the younger-looking one cut you off.

“Well then, I’m off to breakfast. Don’t cause any trouble with Madam Pomfrey, okay?” You jokingly pointed back and forth at them, standing up after hearing their sniggers.

You sighed and began to walk away but before you could finish crossing the room, Fred was talking again (this time at a normal volume).

“I know I told you yesterday but you really are- hmm,” Fred’s sentence was never finished as you reached out to softly ruffle his hair and stare down at him adoringly.

“I’ll see you in a bit, Freddie,” you called out as you began to walk away. He pouted and stretched his arms, “reaching” for you when you made it to the doors.

“Oh, come on, it’s not even for that long. You’ll be fine.”

Much to your surprise, it turned out to be you who was missing Fred. Throughout the morning , you found yourself complaining that classes were moving too slow, teachers were talking too slow, students were walking too slow—basically everything about Wednesday was much too slow for you and there was seemingly no reason why.

Eventually your friends coaxed it out of you and seized every opportunity to tease you relentlessly about your little crush on Fred. You were just about ready to die from embarrassment when George Weasley passed you and your friends in the corridor, at which they happily resumed their playful taunting loud enough for him to hear.

It was all in good fun, however, as you knew they just couldn’t understand how you, the most anti-Quidditch person they knew, ended up crushing on a Gryffindor Beater. You explained that he was more than just a Beater, and that you weren’t really anti-Quidditch, you just hated going to the matches.

Soon enough, you bid your friends and all of their giggling farewell before walking through the halls on the way to the hospital. Okay, maybe you skipped a little bit.

When you opened the doors, you were surprised to find George was already there in casual conversation with his brother. You silently passed by the two of them and went to look for Madam Pomfrey. She came rushing out of her office as usual, bottle in hand.

“Oh, hello Y/N. You can just help out with her,” she motioned towards a fourth-year Hufflepuff, “-and Mr. Weasley today. I’ll have you know that he just couldn’t stop staring at the door all afternoon, waiting,” she said with a knowing smile on her face. Your face warmed at that, and you took the potion from her hands with a quiet “thanks” before bringing it over to the girl’s bedside. From over your shoulder you heard the twins talking.

“I know, I know, but-”

“Whatever. Good luck with Y/N.” You made out George cutting Fred off with the hint of a smirk in his voice. As soon as you finished helping the Hufflepuff, he had left.

Now walking over to Fred, you were even more flustered at George’s comment, and twisted your necklace between your fingers and chewed your lip.

“That’s only the second time I’ve seen your brother visit you; did he stop by while I wasn’t here?” You asked, plopping down in the chair beside him.

“A couple times,” he answered, running a hand through his hair. “Snape bother you today?”

You shook your head.

“Believe it or not, I’m starting to get bored of being in here,” he said, looking at you with a smile. You grinned as well, charmed by his infectious energy.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I feel like this makes me look weak.”

You rolled your eyes.

“There’s nothing weak about getting injured during a fight and having to heal, Fred,” you responded calmly, leaning back in your chair.

“Y/N, I think you just described the exact definition of weak.”

“Come on, you got hurt during Quidditch. Girls love Quidditch players. Look on the bright side,” you replied.

Fred smiled to himself and looked away from you, but didn’t say anything.

“What, you don’t care for female attention?”

He shook his head and stared back at you again. “No, it’s not like that.”

“Then what-”

“Y/N!”

Both of your heads turned in the direction of the voice, its source standing at the newly opened doors.

Your best friend’s face turned smug as if she had caught you doing something you shouldn’t. She walked over slowly, looking back and forth at you and Fred, smirking.

“Hate to steal Y/N from you Fred, but I’m afraid I need her,” she stated airily.

“Oh, it’s fine,” he answered, sitting up straighter. “See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

He waved and as your best friend tugged you out of the room by your arm, you waved back.

“Bye, Fred!” You managed to call out before you were pulled outside.

You decided at the last second not to call him Freddie. Judging by the smug look your best friend wore as soon as you two were out of earshot, you made the right choice.

[mammoney-love]

I have come back for more HCs of the brothers from back when they were angels™ and other characters of the celestial realm.

@rdjevans you know where this is going.

Headcanons on how the brothers became a family, Satan poofing in existance and also Michael being a bitch.

Okay so firstly, Lucifer had white hair.

Okay okay hear me out, he had white hair which got corrupted. Like his wings. So basically it's not that stress whitening his hair it's just that it's not all the way black.

He was very close to Simeon and Michael back when it was only them and another handful of angels.

Michael is very much what a stereotypical angel would look like, Blonde hair and blue eyes.

Lucifer was a practical angel, good at everything he ever tried to do.

Simeon was a loving and caring angel, with no problem when it came to relate to others. That's why he was the first one to be assigned a brother..well it didn't go too well actually.

Michael is a loyal angel. Their father's word is truth and only truth in his eyes. That was always something Lucifer wasn't fond of.

Simeon was the first one to be given a young angel under his care, in the form of a being who was supposed to be created exactly like Simeon.

Note the keyword: supposed.

The angel ended up to be completely different from Simeon. His dark hair, instead of being soft like silk ended up fluffy and messy like a crow's feathers.

He was rather slow to understand, and a trouble maker.

He was pretty much not liked at all in Simeon's assigned division of angels. The first day in and half of the angel would rather avoid being around him.

One week in and he was barely acknowledged by anyone, except for Simeon.

But the older angel was now physically exhausted taking care of him and listening to everyone's complaints. He'd usually call Lucifer or Michael for help when they were not busy.

Lucifer always answered. Michael came once and left as soon as the bundle of fluff send a mischievous smile his way.

"A disappointment to our Father's name and power."

Would rather have had him terminated or sent to a general house rather than a be under the protection of elites.

The young one, who was given the name Mammon, was very much fond of Lucifer.

Whenever he would come by Simeon's domain, Mammon would always jump at him for a hug and call him Luci "Just like Simmy does!"

Sometimes he'd throw tantrums so that Lucifer would end up coming to see him.

After a few weeks of this going on, the three of them settled on having Lucifer raise Mammon, since the two had the best chemistry and Mammon simply didn't like Michael.

Despite the difficult start, Mammon started to look up to Lucifer like a role model, and would show off his incredible accounting and money-keeping skills to Lucifer whenever they visited the Human World.

The less happy one with the situation was evidently Michael, who was still hellbound on convincing Lucifer and Simeon to give him up to a common angel school instead of wasting their time with him.

They didn't listen.

With this first success, Lucifer was quick to be assigned a new brother.

He was a weirdly quiet and shy for an angel, and resembled more a human child.

Except for his bright purple hair that completely caught Lucifer off guard.

Michael was the one to come to him with this one, still as annoyed as ever.

"Leviathan. He was sent to a general house but because of his hair, connecting with others is practically impossible for him. He almost drowned in a pond nearby the house and refuses to go back. You're the mentor with the least amount of wards assigned to you, and the council thought it'd be the best for him to be around the less people possible."

Mammon was jealous at first, and kept avoiding him for the first few days before falling completely in love with his new shy little brother.

He was quite fond of the idea of watching over Leviathan the same way Lucifer did for Mammon. Levi on tthe other hand, was not fond of the attention.But he still enjoyed the genuine interest Mammon had, especially after telling him about his own experiences of being alone in a big, crowded house.

The first time Levi talked, Mammon was fascinated by how soft and unsure it sounds, so much he screeched in excitement in Levi's ears.

They both cried for a few minutes. Levi because he was scared and Mammon because he was sorry.

Over the next few weeks, Levi went to tell the story of how he was sent in the Human World to live with an angel family. The eldest of his sisters kept talking about his hair color being a hex, so he was considered as the black sheep of the family.

Would sneak out of the estate to go to the neighboring beaches at night.

After being caught one time too much, he was promptly sent to a general angel house where he was just being ignored and ostracized again.

And everything was going well in the best of worlds in the MorningStar Household.

Until the day there was a loud and quick banging on the door of Lucifer's study.

A very teary eyed Mammon dashes in as soon as Lucifer opens the door, clutching the older's hand and directing him across the domain.

"W-we were just p-playin' and Levi went in the POOL AND HE'S NOT COMING BACK UP LUCI "

They both arrived to the pool only to be greeted with a vision of horror.

Leviathan was peacefully lying at the complete bottom of the pool, completely still, only his hair lightly swaying with the water.

As they imagined the worst, the boy's eyes shot right open staring directly at them. Seeing their distressed faces, he immediately swam back to the surface, a worried look in his eyes.

"Am I in trouble?"

Was welcomed with the biggest hug he's ever felt.

After a few hours of explaining and calming down, it turns out that Leviathan has an affinity for water and can freely dive in without needing to go right up for air.

"After everyone left for classes I'd usually go under the pond to relax. The mentors caught me going there..and thought I was dead when I didn't resurface."

Simeon is very much delighted to meet Leviathan for the first time, and is as happy to see how Mammon was now aiming to be a treasurer under Lucifer's division.

Michael still didn't like Mammon, and would barely tolerate Leviathan until the day he came to discuss with Lucifer how to handle another breach in the Celestial Realm defenses against Previous Demon King and his army.

Mammon was out running errands, so Levi would keep to himself in a corner while the two of them talked about the best strategies to take.

"You should sent an attack from the front itself as a distraction."

The older angels kept quiet, the both of them staring at the youngest who buried himself further into the manuscript he was reading.

"What did you say?"

"If you distract them by sending a front attack and then retreat, you can send another troop from the mountains to block the way out. They'll be completely circled."

Michael was taken aback to say the least.

Firstly because : Why didn’t he think of it sooner?

Secondly because : What else did this child have in store?

So he kept asking question after question, only to be met with more answers

"Are you sure they'd try to follow us?"

"Demons...are reckless. The patch of land they would gain if we retreat is perfect for cultivation, even Devildom food..and I heard rumors from passing guests that the Demon King's army was running short on food, combined with the current famine in Hell.."

“Even if the ravine is stopping them from to escaping by the sides, how can you guarantee they won’t try to make an aerial offensive? “

“Demons aren’t accustomed to our Realm’s atmosphere. They won’t try to be smart and risk crashing into their own troops.“

Michael was frankly impressed.

To be completely honest though, the only brother Michael simply cannot stand is Mammon because of all the comments passing about him.

"Made by God's hand and yet defective."

"Must have been a disappointing surprise when he showed up not as expected."

As soon as he was of age, Leviathan joined Michael's personal Defence Council as a strategist, and boy was he good at it.

Half of the Celestial Realm would have already fell in despair if it wasn't for his genius and instinct.

On the battlefield, because he went to war, his affinity to stay in water was beyond useful when it came to catch other water demons.

Since angels with this kind of ability are rare, Leviathan was truly a precious military asset to the Celestial Realm.

And yet, whenever he was seen, he was always known as "Lucifer's brother" or "The purple haired one."

Even when surrounded people he knew, they couldn't see past his affiliation to the eldest or his appearance.

That's why he'd usually work from the confines of Lucifer's estate, away from anyone but his brothers.

He would just get out of his own office/room for meals, whenever he was summoned by Michael and to accompany Lucifer on errands in the Human World.

One day, Michael showed up once again to the MorningStar Estate.

This time, he had the brightest of smiles when he announced to Lucifer that he was assigned a new brother, with how well the two first angels under his care turned out.

"Mammon and Leviathan were very much hopeless cases, yet you managed to make them functional members of the Celestial Realm. But this time, it's truly a gift, Lucifer."

As they both made their way to God's Palace, a pure feeling of rage was brewing in Lucifer's soul.

"I truly didn't have hope for your first brother, Mammon just doesn't feel like he belongs among us. But now that you were able to turn such a desperate case for the better, I'm sure you would have no problem taking care of such a precious angel like Asmodeus. Unlike that reject, he-" "Stop talking Michael."

They never knew that the day Asmodeus would be brought to Lucifer's estate would also be the day Lucifer finally confronts Michael about the way he treats Mammon, and Leviathan too to a certain degree.

A heated argument, followed by a lone six-winged angel standing right in front of his Father's personal chambers.

A knock echoed in the empty hallway, and the door opened, a small bundle of strawberry blonde fluff skipping out of the room.

Michael was right to say the least.

Asmodeus was beyond beautiful. Even as an unstable and young angel, his figure and face were flawless, his entire being effortlessly glowing in the golden hallway.

Mammon and Asmodeus became very close to each other from Day 1.

It brought a lot of pride to Lucifer to he see how great of a big brother Mammon was, spending most of his free time teaching and playing with Asmodeus.

But again, Asmodeus was also very much fond of Lucifer and would follow him around the realm during his duties.

He once tried to do the same in the Human World..but it didn't go that well.

Despite the company of his brother, Lucifer didn't quite enjoy going out with Asmodeus either way.

Not because he didn't enjoy spending time with him, but simply because the unwanted attention.

Asmo would always get complimented for his looks, would have lots of friends always calling him pretty.

But it was truly his only defining feature.

He was pretty. And...beautiful. And charming.

No one really knew anything about him other than his surreal appearance and his family.

And again, just like Mammon and Leviathan, it's among his family that he found people who saw him for Asmodeus and not only "Jewel Asmodeus."

It was truly refreshing for him to not be complimented all the time, and even slightly teased by his big brother Mammon, or have genuine but silent moments with Levi.

His favorite things to do was sing along Lucifer playing the harp, paint flowers in the garden while Mammon and Levi would spare, or simply write poems and show them to Simeon whenever he visited.

Asmo was a hidden artistic gem, something he never really showed to anyone but his brothers and closest friend aka Simeon.

Simeon was also the one to listen to Asmodeus' thoughts about always feeling the pressure to look his best whenever he leaves the estate, so he's been trying to go less and less out with Lucifer.

If he could, he would've tried going under an artistic division, but he was scared they were not going to take him seriously, or just instruct him to sit somewhere and be a pretty face.

And that's what happened. He was accepted in the division, but the praises were about nothing but his physical beauty and not about what he brought.

Any of his pieces were mostly enjoyed or liked, because he was already well known as the Celestial Realm's Jewel.

And one day it was confirmed that the others only saw him fit in the division because of the prestige of having him there.

He saw it as a compliment, like always, but he didn't feel happy leaving the comfort of his home and going to the division's common atelier.

So he'd rather stay at the estate most of his time like Leviathan, and only made rare appearances where he was always accompanied by Lucifer or Mammon.

With the whole "not being on speaking terms with Lucifer", Michael was now also disappointed to see that Asmodeus didn't live up to the expectations he and his father had for him.

Michael expected to find an archangel, worthy of serving at the council by his, Lucifer's and Simeon's side, but was given a beautiful yet reserved angel, who would rather stay alone and look pretty in a secluded estate than do what he was created to do, serve the realm as any other angel.

This one time, it was Simeon who requested Lucifer to come and collect his new assigned brother at a common nursery.

Belphegor was his name, a soft little head of calm white hair. He was quiet most of the time during the whole travel back home, not crossing Lucifer's gaze even once.

When night fell upon the Morningstar Estate, it was apparent the youngest was fond of the dots of light we call stars.

Mammon and Asmodeus had tried getting to know him, but he'd been quiet all day, only nodding or sending side glances at each of the brothers.

Leviathan was more understanding, but still worried of the quietness of Belphegor. Even he at least spoke to Lucifer when they were first introduced.

That first night alone in a new house and with a new family, right before falling asleep with Lucifer still in the room, Belphie wished for his brother and sister to be happy. Mumbling a sleepy "I miss you two." before falling into slumber

Lucifer was not pleased to hear that, to say the least.

So he made sure that the first night Belphie spent away from his siblings would also be the last.

It wasn't hard to be given the custody of two absolutely normal angels when you're the morningstar himself.

The next afternoon, after being gone all day, the eldest finally opened the door to the estate once again, encouraging two new heads to come in.

Belphegor was ecstatic to see Beelzebub and Lilith.

It was the first time any of the older brothers saw him smile since he first came.

Belphegor's first outing to the human realm with Lucifer ended with him being lost for a week before being found again in a family of farmers.

He really liked spending time with the cows. Since then he's felt a fascination for humans.

Beelzebub was quiet, but not in a reserved way.

Physically speaking, he was quite open about hugs and physical contact.

He was strong too, not as buff as now, but he was a renowned athlete in the Celestial Realm.

It's also around then Lucifer most likely met Diavolo for the first time.

There isn't much we can tell about Lilith, except that she was a very emotional angel.

But boy was she a gardening master.

When Beel spent his time sparring with Levi and Mammon, Lilith would tend to the garden with Asmo.

She genuinely loved nature and truth be told, her gardening and landscaping skills took the breathe of more than one angel who passed by the estate.

After the rather underwhelming results produced by Asmodeus, much less expectations were put on Lucifer and the MorningStar household to bring up great angels.

So the trio worked as simple messengers under Lucifer's command, which gave them a lot of free time considering the little work they actually had.

But it didn't stop rumors to run about "The new disappointment of the MorningStar family".

Belphegor, was not a particularly special angel, compared to any of his siblings.

When they each had their share of uniqueness, including his twin and sister. He was a rather bland angel, if not a curious one which was very much frowned upon in the Celestial Realm.

He looked very much like Lucifer, but compared to his brother, he had nothing interesting to bring to the table.

None of the rumors ever reached the family directly, except for Lucifer who had to hear all of them, again and again when they thought he wasn't there.

"The two others who were taken in for his sake were the one who ended up being recognized as elite angels. It's very unfortunate to see such a waste of potential."

We all know where this is going.

Lilith fell in love with a human, got caught stealing food, destined to be killed.

And that was the what broke the camel's back.

Lucifer, over the long time he have been an angel, had enough seeing all the hardships his family had to go through because of what others saw fit. What the realm expected of them.

He was sick of following orders and hearing others whisper insults about his brothers, when they were all doing their best to follow a cruel system.

So he rebelled.

Lucifer the Morningstar, Pride of the Celestial Realm, going against the God he'd served ever since he could remember.

He asked Simeon to follow him.

He could only watch as Mammon, who was only supposed to accompany is soon-to-be-ex-brother, broke out of his quietness and announced he'd follow Lucifer in the rebellion.

After the initial shock, Lucifer was against it. He kept trying to reason him, begging him to reconsider "I cannot allow any of you to get hurt. If I die I will, but I won't accept having any of you be in danger-" "I'd rather die by your side than live a coward Lucifer...Truth be told, we're all sick of this place. We-we discussed it beforehand and.. all of us are following you, big brother."

Simeon almost accepted, but something deep within him knew they'd need someone on the inside. To ask for forgiveness, or to help them leave safely.

It'll be something Simeon will forever regret, having to live in this world and letting two of his brothers and their family fall to their demise.

By the way Michael still exists AND BOY IS HE PISSED.

At this point, his only goal is to bring back Lucifer's head to God on a silver platter.

Sends all the angels he can against the rebels.

Probably had Lucifer cornered and seriously injured until lo and behold who else but Mammon will foolishly jump at Michael to save his brother even though two of his wings are basically crushed and pinned down by a sword like Kebab.

Having Lucifer's younger and favorite brother fight him doesn't angry of displease Michael in any way. He's actually glad to finally have an excuse to terminate this disappointment.

Mammon was beyond scared inside during those few seconds, but was truly ready to give up his life for Lucifer. Even if the blinding light of an angel was the last thing he'd see, he stood there, unmoving and strong.

Well that was until Lucifer forced himself up.

He was beyond furious.

So furious that Michael, someone who embodied everything bad he saw in the Celestial Realm, would be threatening his brother.

As he lunged forward to attempt and protect Mammon if he even could, he teared away two of his wings.

The cries of Lucifer's agony took aback the angels, who were now also petrified at the form the two stray wings took.

Despite Lucifer being completely exhausted and not even able to stand up anymore, the demonic being, who looked like an unstable, shadowy figure of a man, took one single glance at Michael and Mammon before making its way to them.

And that's when it hit Michael.

Lucifer had given birth to a demon, and a powerful one.

The aura of pure anger and rage, those empty holes that mimicked eyes, and the threat it was to Michael as it kept approaching. All of those added up forced the angel to take a step back, and another one.

But still, it's not a demon who will stop Michael from accomplishing what he was supposed to do.

So he threw himself at the form too, who had no problem attacking from all the angles it could see, growls and cries of wrath echoing all around the blonde angel.

Michael tried all the tricks he knew. Each single attack was deflected as easily as the next one, and the demon's own were ruthless towards the warrior angel.

So Michael had to halfheartedly run away. At this rate, he knew that death was coming no matter what he tried to do against the unpredictable monster.

Only when he left did the demon disappear, under Mammon's shocked gaze.

Took the angel a while to even make a single movement, until he remembered that Lucifer was still dying in the back.

He didn't die, Mammon made sure he couldn't.

But just imagine the disbelief on his face when Levi showed up at his stead, a beautiful, horned, blonde baby in his arms.

Satan.. was a carbon copy of Michael. Similar in so many ways, and that frankly scared the six-well, now four-winged angel.

But there were also things that simply stood out.

Well, the horns to start, and this green, mischievous glint in his eyes. Not to mention the small tail and black feathered collar that seemed to cling to him.

It was truly heartbreaking in a lot of ways for Lucifer, to be responsible for bringing such a creature in the world, and feeling both love and fear when looking at him.

He was conflicted, but still chose to take care of Satan.

But first, he had a rebellion to lead.

[rafivadafreddy]

I Wonder

A Rafael Barba and Amelia ‘Emma’ Herrera Story.

Summery: Amelia ‘Emma’ broke up with Rafael when he was 18 and she was just 16. He left for Harvard and Emma left for Italy two years later when she graduated. Fast-forward Fourteen years when Emma and Rafael run into each other again. Will there still be sparks between the two or have they both changed too much to be together again?

Word Count: 1,727

Chapter Two!

chapter one can be found here

Warnings: Uhm. Spanish? I honestly don’t think there are any warnings for this. Lol

To say that having Rafael back in her life was easy, that would be a lie. Probably one of the worst lies she would ever tell. It wasn’t easy having him suddenly calling her, texting her, even running into each other at that stupid little café where they first saw each other. Emma told herself that she needed to find a new café to stop at, but she could never bring herself to do so. Thanksgiving soon came and gone, Christmas was finally over and New Year’s was just another day where people drink too much, make resolutions they’ll never keep and get into fights or accidents.

The ER was packed, Emma had her hands full. Her kids were all okay up in the Pediatric ward, so she was down in the ER helping those who came in since it was such a busy night. By the time morning came and Emma found herself on her 10th cup of coffee. She was fighting off the need to close her eyes and take a nap. She had been waiting for her patients’ exams to come back. But as she leaned against the counter at the desk. She couldn’t help but close her eyes.

 “Amelia! Don’t you dare!” Emma saw Rafael scold her as she stood before him holding a water balloon in her hand. A small smile on her face, looking as innocent as possible.

“Dare what, Rafi?” she asked the man, a small pout on her lips. “You mean… this?” Emma giggled as she threw the balloon at her boyfriend and watched as it hit him in the chest and the balloon burst. Covering him in water, soaking his shirt. Before Emma knew it, she was running away from Rafael.

It was late one afternoon; middle of July and they had been dating for a month. Emma was nearing her 16th birthday and Rafael was 17. Things were so perfect between the two of them. So in love, Emma already knew her feelings for him. She just couldn’t bring herself to say those three little words just yet. It was too soon, she knew that.

 Jumping awake when someone called out for her. She looked around and blinked a few times. Quickly, Emma was back to work and before she knew it, she left the hospital to head home.

On her walk home, needing to clear her head. She looked around as she walked, passing by crowds of people who kept making the same damn joke. “Oh, its been a year since I’ve last seen you!” Ha-ha-ha. Not funny anymore. Maybe when you’re drunk, sure.

Shaking her head, Emma waited for the walk signal give her the okay to cross the street when she watched a young couple walking hand in hand. The boy twirling the young girl around, making her laugh.

 Amelia was giggling nonstop as she and Rafael walked out of the theater. “Rafael! It was good! Stop complaining.” She poked her boyfriend as she cuddled into his side. It was the first of December and the two had just watched Three Men and a Baby. A cute comedy, even though Rafi tried to act like he didn’t like it. She knew him, she had seen him laugh during the movie.

“I’m not complaining. I’m just saying, it wasn’t all that good.” He eyed Emma and held her close with his arm around her shoulders.

Snorting, she just let out a small, ‘mmhm’ instead of answering. As they passed stores playing Christmas music, Rafael stopped walking and Emma eyed him, “What’s wrong, mi vida?” she asked, only to giggle when he pulled her in close and started to sway to White Christmas together right there on the sidewalk. Ignoring those passing by the two, nothing else existed in that moment as they looked into each other’s eyes.

“I… I love you Rafael…” Emma whispered to him and grinned when he smiled, the two sharing a soft kiss as they stopped dancing.

“Well, I love you too Amelia Herrera.” He said as his lips still brushed against hers.

Cursing as she was pulled out of her memories, Emma looked up and quickly dashed across the street. “Stupid Rafael… messing up my life… again.” She mumbled and shook her head.

Entering the café as if on schedule, Emma stood in line and waited for her turn. Scarf off and gloves being shoved into her coat pocket. By the time she went to order, Emma got herself a hot chocolate. Not sure if she could take more coffee after the night she just had. Asking for a bagel with cream cheese as well. She waited for her order before finding a seat and starting to eat her breakfast.

 Under the covers, Emma didn’t want to move. She felt like crap. She should have known better than to walk home in the rain. But she loved the rain, so she did so anyways. Now here she was, stuck at home on the weekend sick. Fever, runny nose and a cough that felt like she was trying to cough up her lungs. She had called Rafael that morning and told him she had to cancel their plans to go into the city. Hanging up after a nasty coughing fit, she got back into bed and laid there. Her mother had left for work and so Emma was just in and out of sleep.

When she fully woke up to banging on the door, she pulled herself out of bed and wrapped her comforter around her shoulders and went to answer.” I’m coming Puto! Stop banging on the damn door!” she called out, her voice breaking halfway through her yell, making Emma roll her eyes and pulled the door open. Only to frown, seeing Rafael there.

“Puto? Really? I’m hurt.” He teased and held up two bags. “I brought Mami’s chicken soup, some bread and Gatorade so you can drink something other than water.” He stepped into the apartment.

Emma just felt her eyes fill up with tears. “I love you… but you’ll get sick if you stick around me.” She sniffled.

“I don’t care... let me take care of my girl.” Was all Rafael said and the two spent the whole weekend on the couch. Even singing to her in Spanish to get her to sleep peacefully.

A few days after Emma was better, she found herself at Rafael’s apartment, holding a Tupperware of soup, bread and Gatorade for him. Just like he had done for her.

 “Penny for your thoughts?” a voice startled her, and Emma jumped before looking up.

“Rafael! DO NOT sneak up on people like that!” she narrowed her eyes and sighed.

He just raised an eyebrow and looked around. “Amelia… I called your name two times.” He said, humor laced his voice as he watched her and sat down across from her and Emma just huffed.

“Yes well… still.” So she didn’t have a remark, but can you blame her? After the shift she had. She could be sleep deprived and out of comebacks. “Don’t you need to go to work?’ Emma changed to topic and sipped on her hot chocolate.

“Nope, I was stopping here for coffee before heading over to the Bronx to see mami.” He shrugged and Emma grinned.

“Well! Tell her I send my love and that I hope she got her Christmas card I sent.”

Rafael just frowned. “You send my mami a Christmas card?”

Emma simply shrugged her shoulders, “Mmhm, I do. Its addressed to the both of you. But you moved out and I never knew where you lived after so.”

It was quiet after that, both taking sips from their cups and Emma slowly eating her sandwich.

“You know, I never did understand why you broke up with me all those years ago.” Emma looked over at Rafael as he spoke. A pained expression on his face for about a split second. But Emma had caught it.

“It was for the best, Rafi.” She assured him and reached over to hold his hand softly. “You went to law school without any distractions. I know you were planning on not going because of me. I couldn’t let that happen. I lived my life as well… I lived in Italy for gods sake… that alone was amazing. We wouldn’t be where we are today if we stayed together all those years ago. We would have stayed together and end up hating each other.” She sighed and finished her food. Drowning the rest of her hot chocolate. Emma stood up.

“Happy New Year Rafi…” Emma said softly and placed a kiss to his cheek before pulling her coat, scarf and gloves back on. Only to walk to the door and walk back out into the cold weather of New York.

Shivering, she made way to her apartment building. The apartment she now lived alone in since her roommate left to live with her fiancé.

 Laying in bed together, naked under the sheets. Emma felt her face grow hot. It had been their first time and to her it had gone perfectly. Emma had gone to Rafael’s prom with him and he had gotten a room at a nice hotel. Her mother never cared where she was, and Rafael’s mother thought he would be staying over Eddies house. With her head on his chest, Emma closed her eyes happily. Listening to his heartbeat.

“Eu ti amo mi amor...” she heard before falling asleep in his arms.

The next day when they went home, Emma was going to take Rafael his suit jacket back since he let her use it. Stopping as she neared his bedroom door, Emma frowned.

“Rafael don’t be stupid! You got a full scholarship to Harvard! You gonna give that up for some girl? A girl like Amelia?” She heard the voice of Alex.

“I love her man; I just know she’s the one for me!” Rafael shot back, Emma biting down on her lip.

Stepping away from the door, she left the suit jacket over the couch and ran out of the apartment. Knowing what she had to do. She would not let Rafael throw his future away because of her.

 Wiping her eyes, Emma arrived home and took a quick shower before getting into bed. Looking at her messages with Rafael, she grimaced before falling asleep.

                                                                                                       Three

Tagging- @the-baby-bookworm​  Reblog and Heart! Chapter 3 will be up soon!

[venkaissad]

How can a lady with a gun in her pocket not be pretty? [SCENARIO | NAKAMOTO YUTA]

Inspired by a kdrama Mr. Sunshine

WARNINGS: Mentions of death and stimulants

SUMMARY: You had everything a young lady could wish for. Loving husband, smart son and a warm house. People were jealous of how perfect your life seemed to be, but they didn’t really know what you were up to lately. As they drank expensive coffee, cheated on their lovers and earned big money, you were risking your life for the country their abandoned.

You felt cold air slowly wrapping around your trembling limbs. The coat that was given to you, definitely wasn’t enough to keep anyone warm during the winter. The thin fabric didn’t really cling to your body, as it freely moved around with every gust of wind. It was problematic, as it made quite a bit of noise. Oh, how much you wanted to just go back and never do anything like that again. Just about an hour ago you were peacefully lying on a warm, soft mattress. Harsh hands of you husband slowly moved around your waist, careful to not produce too much movement. Johnny probably wanted to do many things with you that night, but your son was sleeping right in between of you two. His small arms were wrapped around your thigh, as he was way too small to cling onto most of other parts of your body. So Seo remembered to keep his distance, although he was clearly displeased with the current situation. He hummed along to the melody which was strongly engraved in his mind. It was your favorite song, the one you two heard when you met each other for the first time. In 1897, the year in which Korean people started believing in better tomorrow. Joseon no longer existed, but they still dreamed about true freedom which in their opinion was about to be given to them. You started going out more, enjoying life and not worrying about politics. Your father always reminded you to be careful though. He saw and experienced more, so he didn’t believe any of the propaganda you were presented with. On the other hand, your mother wanted you to just enjoy life without any worries. She probably also didn’t trust the government’s assurance that the great times were about to come. But her youth was ruined by the fear constantly taking over the minds of her family members. Thought of you ending up in the same situation as she did, was more heartbreaking than possibility of your death. So she let you do anything you wanted to. You went out to parties, killed your insides with tons of alcohol and cigarettes. Visiting various cafes and diners was also a part of your daily schedule. But the place which you enjoyed the most, was the local pub. You remember when you went there on a hot summer night with your girls. Your body was covered by an expensive French dress, which beautifully enhanced your curves. People constantly complimented you, not to even mention how many lustful gazes you received. But you already set your eyes on one person. A tall, handsome man with soft features. He was sitting in a corner of the room, surrounded by other dashing young fellas. You first caught his gaze when you turned around to buy drinks. His eyes were eating you up, slowly ripping your expensive dress apart. You didn’t let him dominate though. Your gaze was just as strong as his, making him develop a bright blush after a few seconds. Smile slowly crept up on your pretty face, as you got up and made your way towards him. The man immediately stood up as well and practically ran towards you. He slowly outstretched his hand in your direction, to the confusion of people around you. You were in a pub. People didn’t usually dance in places like that. But you did it. You placed your soft hand in his rough palm and let him lead you between the tables. You remember innocent kisses you shared that day, his giggles, and the way he introduced himself to you. 

’’My name is Youngho. But you can call me young, rich and not engaged…or Johnny.’’ 

It was a bit cringy and over the top, but it made your heart flutter. You didn’t come from a rich family, but you didn’t think about the struggles it could give you in the future. At that moment you only saw his eyes. His big, dark eyes sparkling underneath the dim light of an old chandelier. The place in which you met was mediocre, quite ugly in your opinion as well. But because of the memories which you made there, it became a true miracle for you two. After that night you continued to meet with Johnny. At first, you just kept trying to bump into each other in the pub. You clearly remember spending whole night in there, just to finally leave home after he didn’t come. The next day he was waiting there with a big bouquet of roses, ready to punish himself for not being the one who waited for such a long time. Later on, you started writing letters and going out on walks. After five months, morning coffee and evening tea became a tradition without which you couldn’t manage to go through your day. You were dating like that for two years, ignoring what was happening around you. The situation in your country was becoming worse with every day, but you only had eyes for each other. For that reason, you finally got engaged after pleading your families for almost seven months. You got pregnant right after the wedding, and later on gave birth to your beautiful son. That was the moment in which you started paying attention to the world. You stopped looking at life so carelessly, as now your son was going to deal with the aftermath of your decisions. The corruption and lack of independence in Korea finally got to you. The thought of your son suffering later on because of the incompetence of your government made you boil with rage. Unfortunately, your husband didn’t understand your way of thinking. He didn’t know anything. His life began and ended on his wife and son. Some of your friends told you that you picked a narrow-minded and selfish man. That you weren’t a really compatible couple, especially considering the difference in your wealth and education. Youngho was a typical son of a rich family. It was hard to introduce him to your less well off friends. He looked down on people with a worse background. Johnny always asked about their families, wealth and in which business they were in. He also studied abroad and didn’t really care about the country. Politics were a distant topic for him, as he never even bought the newspaper. He just worked, played around with your son and bothered you with useless stuff. With every year your situation was becoming worse. The fact that he let the Japanese humiliate him on a daily basis became normal. Caring was too bothersome, scary. So you took it upon yourself. You had to save your family’s honor. As a Korean woman, you couldn’t imagine just trembling in fear of the occupant. It was humiliating. Not doing anything to protect the legacy of the nation’s progenitors seemed just too shameful. Your son had the same mindset as your husband. Everything was great as long as the family had money and a comfortable place to live. They didn’t care about what was happening to your country. You could understand that your kid, as he was practically a baby, didn’t even think about his nation’s despair. Moreover, you were quite happy that he didn’t intend on doing anything dangerous. The one who frustrated you the most, was indeed Johnny. You asked him for help countless times, but the only thing he ever did was laugh at you. When you told him that you joined the insurgents, he pointed out that women like you should just take care of their kids. You understood that he was just worried, but his words still cut you like a knife. That’s why you started to hide your undercover missions from him. It was better this way. Today was no different. You slipped away from his warm embrace, moved your son up, so he won’t fall out of the bed, and slowly changed into your usual dark coat. It provided you with camouflage, which was much-needed considering the nature of your tasks. You were a killer, cold-blooded murderer who was in charge of getting rid of pro Japanese officials. This night, you were supposed to take out one of the most important men in Japan. You couldn’t help but to tremble, even though you were used to carrying out important missions. Your footsteps have gotten much lighter, as you were getting closer and closer to your target. You slowly climbed up the wall, careful not to slip, and lied down on the hard, cold surface. The target was visible through the open window. He was talking to his group of ’’friends’’, surrounded by men he paid big money to protect him. You knew very well who was in charge of guarding this scum. They were like a small mafia, as they worked much smoother than a random band of thugs. They trusted their boss more than themselves, which made them more deadly than any of your usual enemies. You were aware of that fact, but for some reason you let your guard down. Only when you heard a loud creak, you instantly realized that you are indeed in a too visible position. It was too late though. The soft skin of your neck was grazed by a cold metal of a blade. You instantly turned around, making the wound wider, but also getting an opportunity to see the man who was about to take your life. As soon as you saw his face, your eyes got almost three times bigger than the usually were.

 ’’Nakamoto Yuta.’’ you whispered. The shock was apparent in both of your faces, which meant that he also recognized you. He used to run errands for your father, who provided him with food and a clean place to stay at. At first, you didn’t really care about him, but later on you started pitying him. He was an orphan, little boy who lost his parents because of a conflict. You started sharing your sweets with him, which helped you with gaining his trust and sympathy. Nakamoto was your first true friend, one who didn’t care about the fact that your family wasn’t that great and influential. He was just happy that he had someone to talk to and give him food. He possessed that simplicity which you were so attracted to. You were surrounded by rich men who couldn’t see the world outside their fortune. Yuta was different. He played around in mud with you, stole bread from the kitchen and taught you how to hunt birds with stones. After your mother chased him out after he stole one of her ornaments, your world came crashing down. This Japanese boy was your only true source of happiness, and now he was gone. You thought that you won’t be able to move on, but with time you started to forget about the fact that he existed in your life. You met him only once after he left your house. He suddenly approached you after your wedding. Yuta mingled in with the crowd, which in the end allowed him to talk to you alone. He wrapped his arms around you, completely ignoring the fact that you just became someone’s wife. You didn’t return his gesture of affection, staring off into the space. Nakamoto asked you a lot of questions back then. He also mentioned that he got into a business, that he will make a lot of money and take you with him to a better place. You refused. You told him that you are satisfied with your current life and do not wish to ever see him again. Yuta didn’t respond to you back then, he just disappeared amongst the other guests after exiting the empty room into which he dragged you earlier. You thought about him later on. Your mind focused mostly on what kind of business he could’ve gotten into. He was a Japanese orphan, there weren’t many possibilities for him. But despite that, you believed that he still was the same good kid you knew from your childhood. You never expected to meet him under such circumstances. His cold, dark eyes scanned your face as if he was hoping that you would turn into another person. That was your chance. You immediately took out your trustworthy handgun and pointed it at his head. Yuta chuckled as he realized his mistake. He let his feelings take over him for a moment. 

’’Damn, I always thought you were rather mediocre. But now, how can a lady with a gun in her pocket not be pretty?’’ he chuckled biting his lower lip. His sword was still at your throat, while your gun was pointed straight at him. Your cold eyes pierced right through him, while his warm gaze slowly grazed over your determined being. You both knew that you were the scared one, as you couldn’t stop trembling. Not to say anything about how suddenly you lost your ability to speak. 

’’I don’t think your husband is that good if he lets you do stuff like that, you know? I would die before I’d do anything to risk losing you.’’ he said as he slowly lowered his sword and knelt before you. You couldn’t even move, you felt as if your gun followed him on its own. His gaze was filled with pure love and admiration, as he slowly got closer to you. Yuta’s temple collided with your weapon and a wide smile appeared on his handsome face. 

’’Do it Y/n. Shoot me and go back to your life with which you are so satisfied.’’ his words made you unable to even swallow your spit. You missed him. His cute smile, charming attitude and weird sense of humor. You would probably throw yourself at him, if only you were dumb enough to not understand his intentions. Yuta made it seem like he was ready to sacrifice his life for you to go on, but that was not the case. If you shoot him now, the politician you were supposed to kill will be alarmed and run away. This way his comrades would be safe and get their pay, and you would probably end up dead or exposed. Your whole body became as cold as a stone. If you don’t shoot him, you will have to give up and go back home while bearing the shame of failing your mission. You also would be responsible for letting go a member of the mafia who already saw your face. It was a threat to the whole rebellion. You could either both live or both die, there was no other solution. And no matter what you will choose, Yuta still will be the one who will benefit from the situation. You slowly lowered your gun, watching as his expression became softer. His eyes focused on your face, as you dropped the weapon and put your left hand up to his cheek. 

’’I would never be able to do it.’’ your voice was sweet like honey. It slowly wrapped around his feelings for you, which still were very much alive even after such a long time. Your hand slowly caressed his pale cheek, as he looked at you with so much affection and trust. The corners of his eyes shined with tears.

 ’’I missed you so much Y/n. I worked so hard to make you proud because I knew in the end you will come back to me.’’ your right hand found its way to his waist. Your fingers toyed with the fabric of his clothes. Yuta’s breath was slowly getting faster. He completely lost the rest of his common sense as he focused only on your presence. You pressed your lips to his, feeling how soft and warm they are. Nakamoto almost instantly deepened the kiss and pressed you closer to himself. You pulled away after about a minute, breathless and definitely less composed. 

’’I love you.’’ he said as your hand finally found what it was looking for. You wrapped your fingers around the hard handle, as you pulled a small knife out of his pocket and stabbed the side of his neck without any hesitation. 

’’I love you too, Yuta.’’

[mlpshippingcentral]

Puppy Love

In which Scootaloo is an oblivious gay while Sweetie is a pining gay, too angsty for her own good.

Also known as; my excuse to write about Sweetie’s shitty parents, plus my headcanons involving lanky Scootaloo and smol Sweetie and my headcanon that Sweetie Belle and Rarity were born in Canada.

You’re welcome

After they get their Cutie Marks, the Crusaders start having sleepovers a lot more.

Most of the times it's at Sweet Apple Acres, so Apple Bloom won't be late to do her chores, though a couple have happened at Rarity's house or Scootaloo's Aunt's.

This time, though, is different, because not only is this is the first time they have been allowed to have a sleepover without adult supervision, but it's also the first time they've had it in their tree house.

The days building up to the weekend are full of excited chatterings about what they can do, such as staying up past midnight, a simple goal, though one they've never actually accomplished, and using their telescope to stargaze and hundreds of other ideas.

They all bring their sleeping bags into the tree house, and set them up.

And it's here where Scootaloo hesitates. Because up until tonight, in every sleepover, they've been sharing a bed together. It's not a big deal, just that nobody actually has a guest room.

And now they can sleep as near or as far from each other as possible.

Which, of course, isn't that big of a deal, she reminds herself, eyeing her best friends as they undo their bags, and, after a couple of second of deliberation, puts hers right next to Sweetie, who eyes her curiously for a moment.

"In case we want to talk to each other" she shrugs, feeling oddly embarrassed about it, but Sweetie just lights up and smiles.

"Good idea, Scoots!"

The Pegasus hides a smile by fiddling with her sleeping bag, and sees Apple Bloom staring at them, with the most exasperated expression on her face.

"What?" She asks, but Bloom just mutters something about 'needing another room' and turns away.

They do not stay up until midnight, but they do get pretty close and they do stargaze, so Scootaloo is willing to call it a win.

She wakes up at some indeterminable time, shaken awake by the feel of hot wind on her face. She blinks blearily, and almost yelps when she realizes she is muzzle to muzzle with Sweetie, who is sleeping peacefully.

She leans back a bit, ignoring the pang of cold that hits her when she does. She would back up completely, except that Sweetie's hoof is on her leg, and moving would probably wake her up.

So instead she closes her eyes and tries to ignore the thoughts telling her there's no better way to fall asleep.

Sweetie Belle is passing through town when she sees Tender Taps, and stops to say hello.

"Hey, Tapps, did I hear something about you being chosen for entertainment for the Grand Galloping Gala?"

"Yeah!" The colt smiles, demure. "It was so crazy! I still can't really believe it!"

"You are the best dancer in our town."

"Yeah, thanks to you and your friends. Speaking of which" he pauses, tilting his head at her "how are you and Scootaloo?"

There's teasing in his tone, but most of it is genuine curiosity, and Sweetie doesn't know what to do with that.

"We're fine" she says stiffly "BFF's, as always."

"Oh" he looks contrite for a second, but, before he can say anything else, another voice chirps up from down the street.

"Hey Sweetie!"

She has to take a second before answering "yeah Scootaloo?"

She doesn't say her friends nickname, because Tender Taps is already grinning like a foal who won the lottery.

Scootaloo is at the very top of the street, which is more of a hill, with an incline enough that Sweetie has to crane her neck a bit to meet her friends eyes.

"Watch this!"

And then, she's off, pushing a hoof off the ground and buzzing her wings to move her scooter along, she shoots down the hill like lightning, before flipping, head over hooves, with the scooter, just to bring the wheels back down to the ground again and brake a couple of feet in front of Sweetie.

She had heard about this trick, heard about Scootaloo practicing this, and that practice clearly paid off, going by the cheers and whistles rebounding the room.

But Sweetie's not paying attention to them, because she's already moving, closing the distance in seconds to throw her hooves around her Best Friend's neck.

Sometimes, it surprises Sweetie how small she is. Apple Bloom is an Apple, all tall and muscular, while Scootaloo is all lean and lanky, so she always looks tiny next to them.

Despite this, even though she's the second smallest in her entire class, and has to literally tilt her head back if she wants to talk to Bloom face to face, she forgets how absolutely tiny she is.

And then there's moments like this, where Scootaloo easily lifts her back hooves off the ground and Sweetie lets out a surprised squeak, which prompts a laugh from Scootaloo, who places her back on the ground.

She feels dizzy and warm and is acutely aware of everypony watching them, so she takes a small step back, so that they're not basically touching muzzles, and for a second, she thinks she sees Scootaloo's face fall.

"You should show that to Rainbow Dash" is what she says, and she brightens again, zooming off to find her idol.

Sweetie Belle can feel Tender Taps approach her.

"Don't say it" she says.

When Aunt Lofty sends her in to Carousel Boutique for more wool, Scootaloo isn't expecting to overhear a conversation between her Best Friend and her sister.

"How do you know you love someone?"

It's Sweetie's voice, but it doesn't sound right, all muted and nervous, and, oh boy, that is not a conversation Scootaloo should be overhearing. She looks around for a bell to ring or something, but, for all her professionalism, it seems that this never occurred to Rarity.

She eyes the door up, wondering if she can come back at some other time, but Aunt Lofty really wanted to finish her scarf, and this was the only place that would have this kind of wool.

A pause, and then Rarity's voice "well, that all depends. For some, it's sudden, while others, it's more . .  gradual."

"Is that what it was like? For you, I mean."

"No, no. She crept up on me."

The sentence is barely over before Sweetie is saying "me too! At least, I think she did? I never really noticed until recently, but . ."

Scootaloo frowned. She? Sweetie had never shown any interest in any fillies in their class before. She knew her Unicorn friend had a crush on a couple of colts before, but outside of that, she had never shown a special interest in any females before.

Unless . . .

Scootaloo's mind dragged up a picture, of Diamond Tiara and Sweetie Belle, deep in discussion, heads bent together. They had been talking about their parents, Scootaloo remembered. The two had found common ground in the fact that their parents were always gone for some reason.

She found herself wishing she had entered that conversation, not so much as to complain about her parents, than just to break up the strange closeness the two had.

Which was, of course, ridiculous. Sweetie was allowed to like whoever she wanted, right? It shouldn't matter to Scootaloo if her friend had a crush on someone.

"I, uh, I don't think she really likes me in that way though" and Sweetie sounded so dejected that Scootaloo fought the urge to round the corner and hug her.

"You don't know until you try" Rarity said, doing an admirable job of filling in for Scootaloo, who just wanted to comfort her little friend.

"But we're coworkers! It could mess everything up! Besides, Scoots has never shown any interest in girls before and-"

It's around there that the conversation fades away from Scootaloo as she carefully backs out of the boutique and onto her bike, any thought of the wool far from her mind.

Instead, she climbed aboard her scooter, and raced away, stopping when she was far enough away and collapsing on the ground.

She isn't sure how much time passes as she lays on the ground, staring up at the sky, painted gold and pink by the sunset.

Sweetie likes her.

Sweetie likes her?

Sweetie likes her!

Sweetie likes her.

What in the hell is she going to do?

Well, first off, a voice that sounds remarkably like Twilight Sparkle in her head says, do you like girls?

Scootaloo doesn't even have to stop and think of this, as it's a solid yeah. She remembers crushing on Princess Cadence when she was smaller, and a brief infatuation with Gabby.

She is, in her Aunt's words, the ultimate lesbian.

Okay, so, do you like Sweetie?

Now this, this gives her pause.

She remembers when she first met Sweetie; she and her parents had just moved from Oatstralia, and she had just discovered that bullies existed here in Ponyville too. Awesome. She had decided to take the traditional route and keep her head down, and don't talk to anyone. And yet, the day after she had decided that, a Unicorn had moved down from Caneighda to be with her sister more.

She and Sweetie Belle had known each other for a long time, longer than they knew Bloom at least.

She remembers the chill she had felt when she pulled away from Sweetie that night in the treehouse, of seeing her rushing across to congratulate her on her awesome trick the other day, eyes bright and grin even brighter-

Oh.

Oh hell.

The Gay Panic is starting to come in strong, and she now understands why Sweetie wanted to talk to Rarity about all this, because she has this overwhelming urge to run to her Aunts, because surely they'll know what to do.

Maybe she can ignore all this, and it'll just . .  go away?

She closes her eyes and immediately Sweetie Belle jumps into her mind, a Sweetie with slumped shoulders and teary eyes as she stares, defeated up at her Best Friend.

Immediately her eyes snap open again, because, that's not happening. She will not hurt Sweetie, she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she did.

Then she groans, because that was so cheesy and she is so, so screwed.

Apple Bloom walks into the tree house, looks at the two of them, working in complete silence, not looking at each other, and immediately walks back out.

"Ah've got chores to do!" She says in response to their questions and objections.

Sweetie can understand, though. Celestia knows, she would rather be anywhere than here right now, basking in the awkwardness she had created, because she is too awkward to talk to her Best Friend.

This is what you get, a part of her says, you want to make things complicated? You have to deal with the awkwardness.

"So" Scootaloo says, breaking the silence at last, and Sweetie immediately wants to curl up and die, because that is Scootaloo's this-is-gonna-be-so-awkward tone of voice. The last time she had used it, she had brought up why Sweetie's parents were never around. The time before that? Apple Bloom's parents.

Sweetie has learnt to fear that tone.

"So?" She echoes, deliberately innocent as she eyes the door for a quick escape.

"So I've been thinking" Scootaloo says "about you and me."

You know what? Forget the door, Sweetie will gladly take a hole to swallow her up in.

"You and I?" She repeats, correcting it slightly, because she at least pays attention in English.

"Yeah" Scootaloo smirks slightly, before it falls "I think it's time we talked about our, uh, friendship."

Sweetie screws her eyes up tight, pulse in her head as she tries to think her way out of this one. But, this, this is it. And Scootaloo clearly knows that she knows what she is talking about, going by how awkward she looks.

Well, if this is the end of their friendship, at least she should be honest about it.

"I'm sorry" she whispers, tears pricking her eyes. "you were never supposed to find out."

Scootaloo tilts her head, meeting Sweetie's eyes for a fleeting moment before looking away again "why not?"

"Because we're coworkers" Sweetie says miserably. "If I told you, things would be awkward between us, and then things would be awkward between us and Bloom and" she cuts herself off with a sigh "you guys are my first friends" she admits "I don't want to lose you."

"You guys are my first friends too" Scootaloo admits. "but who says things have to be awkward between us?"

"I- uh- what?"

Scootaloo kisses her.

It's brief and messy and as awkward as this conversation, but she does it and Sweetie is left standing, stock still, staring at the Pegasus, who has the same look of bafflement she does.

"That was my first kiss" is all she thinks to say, because why not?

Scootaloo laughs, loud and still nervous "yeah, me too."

Then she kisses Scootaloo, using her magic to pull her down to do so. It's more than she imagined it would ever be, and she feels oddly giddy, bouncing on her hooves slightly as she does so.

They pull apart and she grins up at the Pegasus, who smiles back down.

"Why" Scootaloo asks, laughing "didn't we do that sooner?"

Sweetie Belle laughs.

Small notes!

For the record, Canadian Sweetie Belle only came into existence because I wondered about Cookie Crumbles and Hondo Flanks, and it turns out their accents are midwestern or Canadian, and Canadian Sweetie was the greatest thing I have ever heard of ever. 

Plus, to me it would explain why Apple Bloom had never met Sweetie or Scootaloo before Call of the Cutie, which is especially odd since Ponyville is such a small town and they have the same class. So, they had both just moved there recently. 

Australian Scootaloo, is, of course, a given due to her heritage, but they move around so much she never really had time to develop an accent. She moved in with her aunts after they put their hooves down and demanded that Scootaloo be allowed to stay in one place long enough to make actual friends. Scootaloo thinks her parents are amazing and that nothing is wrong with them constantly leaving her, getting defensive if anyone has any word against them. Despite them missing her cutecenera by several months, she still enthusiastically greeted them and forgave them immediately

Sweetie’s parents, on the other hand, drift in and out of her life. They often take long, amazing trips without her or Rarity, leaving poor Sweetie feeling like they don’t want her and desperate for any attention, leaving her to cling to her sister for support (why she’s always at Rarities instead of at home). After they miss her cutecenera, she basically turns her back on them

[webcricket]

Looking Glass

Chapter 8 - Fly Me to the Moon

Pairing: CastielXAU!Reader

Word Count: 2450

Summary: Supportive Sam, pining angel wings (turns out it’s a thing), and a post-prayer reunion where Cas and the reader acquiesce to the undeniable goodness of the connection budding between them.

A/N: To those dedicated souls in the back still reading author’s notes, chapter 9 promises a payoff of pure fluff.

Miss a chapter? Have a Masterlist Link!

The furious bellow of a tractor trailer horn blares somewhere ahead in a highway scene shrouded in a morning mist of rain burning off the blacktop under the blazing kiss of the rising sun. Undisturbed by the distant noisy intrusion into the otherwise quiet atmosphere of the car, Sam’s fingers remain near motionless where they drape the steering wheel; the gracefully long digits occasionally flex and contract, making minute undulant adjustments to compensate for the winding curves of the road. Hazel eyes peacefully pensive, brow untroubled, the hunter stares ahead into the lifting fog, intent on the drive home.

Sat in the passenger seat, Cas contemplates the green and white mile markers sailing by in a blur along the roadside; according to his angelic reckoning – a feat of navigational honing very much akin to that of the regrettably extinct species of North American homing pigeon – the markers are off by a mere fraction of a thousandth of a mile probably owing to the result of a surveyor’s error, malfunctioning equipment, or the United States obstinate failure to adopt the metric system of measurement like the rest of the freaking developed world. The freaking, of course, is Dean’s invaluable contribution to the angel’s internal flow of meditative monologue.

It’s a fact of technicality the angel keeps to himself; although, within the limited circle of humans he calls friends – no, family – he considers Sam most likely to harbor the humor necessary to appreciate the trivial observation. Dean’s mode would be mockery. Then, of course, there’s the great unknown of you; you, who persistently dominates his thoughts now no matter where they bend. In gleaning fragmented knowledge of your past and present with each healing pass of his grace and the too brief spans of time spent in your company, he’s beginning to understand the battered but brave survivor better – well enough to guess that, if not the detail of the erroneous measurement itself, you might find his absurd notation of it nonetheless amusing. The possibility of arousing some small joy within you excites an ephemeral smile on his lips.

The anticipatory buzz of excitement is fleeting.

“Cas!” Your pained appeal slams into his celestial awareness with no loss of momentum in traversing the gulf of distance between you.

His wings jolt to the ready, an irrepressible instinct, outstretching and straining against the restrictions of their impairment upon perceiving the desperation of your plea. Reaching their broad black span upward in a single swift beat, ensnared inescapably in the confines of their hidden heavenly dimension, the appendages ripple and rustle in dissent to their damage; silken feathers tattered, plumes stripped to the bare barbs and deeply scarred in sections, they reflexively recollect but are rendered incapable of their once swift capacity for flight.

Lightning searing across and seizing his vessel’s shoulders, Cas pitches forward with a ragged groan and braces his palms against the dashboard as he struggles to subdue the rising winged revolt taking place in response to your summoning. He’s hopelessly immobilized from instantaneous arrival at your side, yet every atom of his celestial being tears at his vessel, beckoning to answer your prayer.

“What?!” Startled by the sudden commotion – the worst of which remains unseen by him – Sam swerves sharply, steering to the gravel edge of the road. “What is it?” He taps a tentative hand to Cas’ arm – every muscle of the limb beneath the layers of fabric tenses and trembles with all modicum of control the angel is able to rally. Although he doesn’t fully fathom the extent of it, Sam recognizes the symptoms of stress disturbing his friend. “Angels again?”

“No,” Cas forces the reply through a gritted jaw. “It’s Y/N. She’s hurting . . . praying for help . . . for me. Just keep-” Regaining his composure through sheer command of celestial will, fingers slipping on the vinyl dash as the initial sting of pain passes, he slumps into the scooped embrace of the seat. “Just keep driving.”

Sam’s eyes rove to the gauges of the car. He hasn’t expressed it aloud, but he worries about the effect you’re having on Cas here at the precipice of the latest looming apocalypse. He admits it’s good to see his friend backing down from do-or-die Terminator-esque soldier mode; but you, your coarseness toward him, abrasiveness in general, the angel surely feels a debt of responsibility learning there’s an evil version of himself traipsing around in the other universe who all but destroyed your mind. He thinks it’s a lot even for a stoical seraph to absorb.

Sam can’t imagine the conflict Cas feels, mainly because processing emotions verbally – or at all – isn’t exactly the angel’s strong suit. He knows well that Cas’ greatest fault and his best quality are one and the same – a habitual need to make things right no matter the personal cost. He wonders if the burden of caring for you circles back to making amends with Dean for Donatello – a chance to correct a mistake. “Is she okay? You know, if you want, we can talk about what’s going on.”

The angel knows you’re not okay; that, although he appreciates the open offer, talking will do nothing to correct this; and that, from his present distance-impaired location, he can do frustratingly little to help you. Grace uselessly surging, he may as well be human. Dismissing Sam’s concern, head sagging to his shoulder, blues squinting, he grumbles, “Sam, we’re not moving.”

“Right, got it.” Sam stows his concern, throws the clutch in gear, and swings the car back onto the highway.

A final spasm twitches the angel’s wings as they fold and refold fitfully together. He thinks – slanting his gaze at the console clock now and then, excruciating minutes of separation stretching into hours that should pass inconsequentiality for an ageless being existing since the dawn of time but instead drag – that perhaps, like the specious mile markers, time itself on this endless sun-drenched stretch of highway is faulty.

Inclined against the door jamb of the kitchen, fretting over her gleaming red manicure, Rowena pauses mid-chew of her pinky nail when she perceives a rush of footsteps resounding in the hall. She taps the chipped nail thoughtfully on her tooth – the redeemed witch didn’t sign up to babysit; she’s also wise enough to comprehend how it would bode for her if something terrible happened on her watch whether or not she was still present in the bunker to be blamed when the Winchesters and their angel arrived home to find you in a deeply disturbed state. Caring, she’s beginning to discover, comes with its own unique set of complications.

As Cas rounds the corner in purposeful, gloriously angelic, and full trench coat billowing stride toward the kitchen, Rowena bodily flings herself at him with an exaggerated squawk. “There’s our high and mighty hero! Took your time getting here, didn’t you? The poor girl’s been in there sufferin’ for hours. Hours! And where were you? Off gallivanting with a Winchester, of course!”

Cas ignores both the ridicule and the whip-tongued woman wielding it. He brushes past her explicatory flailing form as she animatedly complains about the circumstances of being left alone with you completely ignorant of your infirmity and alternately drones on about an episode with a screeching tea pot.

The angel finds you hunkered in a corner – wedged between the wall and a shelf – hugging your knees, face buried in your bent arms. Approaching cautiously, he crouches before you and, remembering your adverse reflex to his unexpected touch, resists the desire to lay a palm comfortingly to the roundness of your shoulders rising with a shallow inhalation. “Y/N?”

Hair sweeping in clumps across your red-rimmed eyes, you peer out at him through puffy lids from within the cocoon of crossed limbs. The reality is, your head stopped aching hours ago. You staged a kitchen coup because precisely when your headache peaked and subsided, your heart assumed hurting where your head left off under the barraged return of your memories. Remembering feels a whole lot like losing everything and everyone you ever loved all over again to an apocalypse. Sniffling against a long since dried well of tears, defaulting to your signature defensive defiance in affront to this new and improved onslaught of internal agony, you muster a bit of spirited pluck for the especially concerned looking seraph’s sake to prove to him you’re fine. “You’re late.”

Several lines fissuring his anxiously wrought features iron themselves out in a wash of relief. Spunk is good; it’s expected – it’s limitless spring in your soul is something he admires. “I’m sorry it took so long, but I can’t-” His blues – swiftly subduing into seas of sadness and shame – glaze and veer in avoidance to the assortment of dusty disused cooking utensils on the bottom shelf beside you. Husky tone sinking to a raw whisper, he addresses what seems to be a sensitive subject. “Well, you’d call it flying. I can’t do that, not anymore.” Regard bending back to you to gauge your reaction to his admission of angelic debilitation, he adds gravely, “In all likelihood, not ever again.”

“That’s funny.” You realize the unintended offence as soon as the words lob off your tongue.  You meant to say: ‘Hey, that’s an interesting coincidence, cause the other you can’t fly either.’

Cadence clipped, his expression hardens. “I fail to see the humor in the incapacitation of my wings-”

“No, I didn’t mean-” You grab at his sleeve, apologetic. “It’s not funny, ha ha. I meant that it’s strange. Strange, because the other Castiel – he can’t fly either. The angels, when we wouldn’t talk, they summoned him and he came in a truck – an armored truck – by himself. An angel travelling by land, it was . . . weird.” Grimacing, it occurs to you that you’ve managed to deride Cas’ feathery debility and imply he’s strange and weird in the same breath. Apparently, your ability to translate thoughts into lucid unoffending speech is short-circuiting. You try again, because the idea of band-aiding the situation with more syllables sounds super sound inside your noggin. “Not that you’re weird, you-”

“You remember all of that?” he interrupts what was likely to be another unintentional seraphim slight. There’s a suggestion of forgiveness in the subtlest of smiles skirting his mouth.

“I’m remembering a lot of things,” you reply, watching the smile shift upward to crease the corners of his eyes at the news. Self-conscious when your gaze catches his, your focus falls from the glimmer of gladness flooding his face to your fingers continuing to clutch at the fabric of his coat sleeve. You should let go. You don’t want to let go. It’s strange and weird to still be holding on, but he hasn’t made any motion of protest. Here, and there, Cas – the first person you saw in this world, or Castiel – the last face you saw in yours, the angel is a constant. It’s why you prayed to him, this him in a tea pot induced panic when your miserable memories came crashing back to your consciousness all at once; he’s your touchstone in the good.

If he notices the epic struggle of self-discovery taking place in the fluctuating pressure of your fingertips attached to his coat sleeve, he doesn’t mention it. “You’re remembering – that’s good.”

“Is it? Most all of it – it’s bad. Really bad.” You know he’s right – in theory it’s good. In practice it cinches your fist tighter and gives you greater reason to hold on to him.

“It’s good because it means you’re recovering,” he states – at least one of you has an accurate read on deciphering your thoughts. “How’s your head?”

Biting your lower lip, you tease, “Still attached.”

Chin tilting, gaze narrowing, he chides, “Y/N.”

You shrug. “Better . . . I guess. The noise sensitivity resolved the hundredth or so time witchy Nanny McPhee ingratiatingly asked me if she could do anything else – ‘Anythin’ at all, dear!’ – that didn’t involve boiling water in brass pots.”

A skeptical humph vibrates in his throat. He casts you a doubtful stare to punctuate his pessimism over your lack of certainty.

“Okay, better, definitely better,” you concede and posit his next thought before he can mutter it. “And before you ask if I’m tired, the only tired I am is of being stuck in this damn bunker.”

“Can you stand?” Reaching his free hand across the sleeve you have securely embedded in your grasp, he glides the rough pads of his fingers gently along the ticklish inner surface of your thumb and upturned wrist; when you don’t flinch away from him, he allows his light caress to linger there longer, heat sparking on your skin.

“I-I think so,” you stutter, attention torn between the simple question and the balminess of his flesh where it grazes yours.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” His tender touch trails to your elbow; encircling your arm, he helps you rise to your feet. He pivots and sidesteps to ensure you don’t feel cornered without escape upon standing.

You wobble on your disused legs, using the unsteadiness as an excuse to lean into him for support. “A walk? You mean, outside?”

He peers down at you, aspect and affect afflicted with an utter sense of soberness as square as his jawline at this proximity. “No, a walk on the moon,” he retorts.

Puffing an airy burst of laughter, a grin broadens your cheeks. “Did you just crack a joke?”

He nods, the shine of a smile again brightening his serious countenance. “Dean mentioned recently that I should try to lighten up. Was that a suitable occasion to do so?”

“Yes. And yes to the walk!” Skipping several steps backward, socked heels slipping on the tile floor, your palm reluctantly parts from the anchoring stability of his chest as you dash for the door to change out of pajamas and into the clothing you previously deemed stupid – considering you had nowhere to wear it – which was generously purloined for you by Sam and Dean from their mother’s closet. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back!” You pause at the threshold and flash him an enthusiastic parting grin before scampering down the hall.

Exhaling a contented sigh, Cas’ lashes shutter to envision the delight of your grin etched into his memory. He thinks, based on the warmth radiating from within his vessel’s chest, that your joy, too, is everlastingly emblazoned on his heart. The experience of bringing you that bit of happiness, it’s so much more meaningful than the bounds of angelic imagination permitted him to conceive; and, the angel who wants nothing for himself wants more of this exhilarating sensation.

Next: Ch. 9 - The Fable of the Fawns

[supernova0660-blog]

All Myself To You ♡ DENNOR

DenNor Human AU Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

—

Christmas was the most enjoyable time of the year for all five members of the Nordic Five household. In fact, the house grew so busy, nobody had time to chitchat about what they wanted or needed, especially busy bee Tino, and his adoring fiance Berwald. The two decorated the house with many pretty lights, cute little snowmen figurines and last, but not least, the Christmas tree. Each of the Nordics took turn placing ornaments onto the tree, Mathias going first, second Lukas, and so forth. "And we're done!" Tino clapped his hands, eyes shut as he grinned cheerfully. "All that's left to do is finish decorating the sweets, and we'll wait until Santa arrives in the next couple of days!" With that said, all five of the Nordics went separate directions. Well, all except Mathias.

Mathias stared longingly at the tree before him, admiring it as if it were a statue of a god... or even a statue of himself. The tree was large, but barely touched the ceiling. As his eyes scanned up and down the tree, the blond Dane stopped his gaze. His eyes widened suddenly — Tino forgot to put a star on top of the tree! "Tino? Hey, Tino-" Mathias began to call, but only the sound of his voice could be heard, and nothing else. The house was fairly large, so it was difficult to call for one-another's names in the house. Quickly, Mathias thought up of a way to reach for the tree. His gaze stopped, landing on a small wooden chair Berwald built for his son, Peter. He hurried towards the small piece of furniture, dragging it across the hardwood floor, leaving some scrape marks in the process. Turning it around to face the tree, Mathias went to the garage. He found the star in Tino's Christmas stash, picking it up before carrying it out of the room, before heading back off into the lounge room.

Stepping up onto the chair, Mathias made sure to keep himself balanced. Unfortunately, the tip of the tree was too out of reach. Standing on his own tippy-toes, Mathias — tongue poked to one side — concentrated, making sure the star on the tree would sit perfectly. Unbeknown to him, one of the legs on the chair snapped, before all four legs came crashing down, bringing both Mathias and the tree along. The tree crashed down, shaking the entire house. All of the ornaments, one by one, slipped off, crashing onto the floor. Six pairs of feet hustled into the room, all four boys shocked to see the mess of the lounge room. Mathias, who lay on the floor helplessly, winced as he attempted to sit up. Surrounding the sunny-blond man was Emil, Tino and Berwald.

"Uh... whoops?"

Tino sighed, shaking his head as he held a hand out for the sunny-blond man to take. "Mathias, what on earth were you doing?" He demanded, his cheery tone ceasing to exist. His gaze averted to a heart-shaped ornament with a photograph of him, Berwald and an infant Peter. The centre of the ornament was cracked, as if it were a heartbroken-shaped ornament. He quickly rushed over to the ornament with tear-stained eyes. "This was our first photo with Peter...!" He sighed, shaking his head as he held the ornament to his own heart. "Oh, well," he hiccuped merely, before standing up. "We can... We can fix it. Don't worry. Just make sure you don't have any cuts or wounds, alright?" With that, he left the room, Berwald trailing behind. "Stupid Dane," Emil grumbled as he turned to leave the room, too.

And now Mathias was alone.

(・ω・)b     (✿◕㉨◕)

"Hey, Mathias!"

Mathias perked up as Tino waltzed into the foyer, a little cookbook in his hand. "Wanna bake some sweets with me?" The blond Finn gushed, holding up his book. "Really? That'd be super awesome!" Jumping up from the sofa, the two hustled into the kitchen. Already the stove was heated up to 350°F, and everything was prepared: the cooking utensils, the cutters, the eggs, milk, etcetera. "Alright, so first thing's first is to wash your--"

"WOAH!!" Mathias chirped as he dashed over, already stirring the cookie dough. Tino laughed sheepishly, before walking over to the taller boy. "You're supposed to wash your hands," he inquired, although it just went into one ear out the other with Mathias. "Can I try some?" He asked, eyes twinkling like a child. "Pleeeease?" His voice dragged, indicating begging. Tino shook his head, "No, Mathias! If you were baking for yourself, maybe, but this is for the family and Santa!" After scraping the dough out, Tino and Mathias each rolled them into little balls. Suddenly, Mathias began to grow bored. "I want a large cookie!" He chirped, picking a couple of Tino's cookie balls from their trays before mixing them into his own. "Mathias!" Tino cried, his patience draining slightly.

"Come on, I just wanna have fun!"

"Fine, fine," Tino mused, watching as Mathias continued creating quote unquote, "the world's most badass cookie!" Once the cookie was made he threw it onto the pan, opening the oven door carelessly before sliding the tray in, no mitten or anything. He burnt his hand in the process. "Ow!!" Watching his friend do this, Tino sighed and shook his head tiredly. "I'm... going to the supermarket. You take care!" He turned and left the kitchen, with Mathias and his now burnt cookie.

And Mathias was alone... again.

(个_个)     ☆⌒(>。<)

Lukas peacefully laid against his bed, soft music coming from his phone with his earphones plugged in. He flipped through the page of his fairy tale book, letting out gentle breaths. As his earphones were on, he barely heard the commotion downstairs, or the plunging footsteps storming upstairs, or even the loud slam of the bedroom door that was next to Lukas' own. All fell quiet, excluding the Norwegian boy's music. A few moments later he paused the music, wrapping his earphones around his phone before setting it down on the bed. Sliding off his bed he walked out of his room and down the hall. Just as he passed Mathias' room, he could hear a soft, barely audible cry. Mathias... crying? No. He never cried. He only cried over silly romance flicks and kitten videos — loudly, to add. Lukas shook his head. He didn't want to bother Mathias, but at the same time he wanted to know what happened. So, he turned forward and headed off downstairs.

He gasped lightly as the tree came into view. The tree had snapped in half, its pines scattered all over the lounge room rug. Ornaments were shattered, glass scattered everywhere as if it were a crime scene. Some droplets of blood even came into view. "What... What happened?" He asked himself as he moved closer to the tree. He knelt down, examining the blood. "Mathias being a moron as usual," a voice came from behind Lukas. The blond male turned; his younger brother only came into view. "He knocked over our tree," he added, shrugging, "and snapped Peter's Christmas gift in half." Lukas, arms crossed, turned his head downwards to the floor. "But was he hurt?" He asked, although Emil didn't answer — he only continued complaining about Mathias, and how Christmas was only in three days. "...And now Santa won't come to our house without a tree!"

"Emil, you do realise Santa is actually Tino, right?" Lukas snickered drily, ruffling his little brother's hair. "Go outside play with Leon or something. It's a nice snowy day, why don't you go?" Emil wrinkled his nose, pouting. "I'm not a kid anymore, Lukas. I don't 'play' in the snow." This only made the blond Norwegian crack up. "You're so cute, Emil, just like when you were little." With that said, Lukas left the lounge room, making way to the room next door: the kitchen. Maybe Tino knew what was up.

Tino sat in one of the kitchen stools, staring down brokenheartedly at his ornament. Lukas entered the kitchen, hand resting against the wall. "Tino?" He spoke, causing the shorter Finn to jolt in surprise. He hid the ornament behind his back. "Oh, hey Lukas! You look very well-rested!" He mused, laughing timidly. "So, how was your nap? What did you dream Santa would get you?" Lukas didn't reply to any of Tino's silly questions. He leaned against the wall. "Wasn't sleeping. Are you okay? Your eyes look all red and puffy." Tino laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his head with his free arm. "No, no! Just, er, allergies! Yeah, that's all! Don't worry a thing about me!"

"Right..."

Lukas then left, heading back upstairs to the final stop: Mathias' room. Maybe Mathias knew what happened. All of the others were acting so strange, just before he discovered Mathias crying... or laughing, or making drunkard noises. Lukas hadn't a clue. Reaching the top step, Lukas approached his best friend's room, lightly rasping his knuckles against the wood. No reply. Usually when Lukas knocked on Mathias' door, he'd be lunged inside by a cheeky and cheerful Mathias, but no. Again he knocked on the door, expecting a reply. None. Nothing. Lukas shook his head as he turned the doorknob, opening up the doors widely. "Mathias?" He called out, only hearing nothing but his own voice.

"Maybe he's in the washroom," Lukas thought out loud. He sat down on Mathias' bed, smoothing out the already messy bed sheets. "Lukas..." Came a soft Danish accent from nearby. Turning around, Mathias peered from the washroom door, his beady blue eyes now a puffy red from crying. "Whaddaya need?" He asked in between hiccups. Lukas shut his eyes at the sight of his best friend crying. And he could tell, those tears were from hurt emotions. He just... could sense it. Sighing he walked over to Mathias, pulling him forward and close to him. "What happened out there?" He asked.

Mathias, not once giving any sort of eye contact to Lukas, shook his head slowly. "Just... ruining everything, nothing special." He laughed nervously. "I wanted to... I wanted to help out. I tried to help decorate the tree. I tried to help Tino bake. I tried, Luke, I really did. I just—" Mathias stopped mid-sentence, turning away. "Sorry. Didn't mean to ruin yer day, checking up on me and all. Sometimes I just feel... I dunno... ignored." Lukas relaxed his shoulders as he watched his friend walk over to his bed, flopping down on the mattress. "It's like... The others don't care 'bout my feelings no more, Luke. Except you."

Lukas sat on the edge of the bed, hands cupped together, gaze lowered to the floor. "Matt... Don't say those things, you dummy. That isn't like you," he mumbled. "You know we love you. We're family, and families are bound to fight. If... If nobody here loved ya, then they'd show it every day."

Mathias didn't reply.

"B'sides," Lukas inched closer as Mathias sat up. "People make mistakes." Of course with this said, Mathias began to tear up, quickly clinging onto Lukas as if he were a soft toy of some sort. "I'm so sorry for bein' a complete burden!" Tensing up, Lukas didn't hug back, but he didn't push his friend away either. He didn't like hugs, but just this time - and maybe in the future - he'd allow it. Mathias continued to cry and speak rapidly, his words hardly fitting through English. After what felt like almost hours of Mathias crying, the room suddenly fell silent. Mathias let Lukas go quickly, wiping dry tears away. "Sorry," he laughed nervously. "I get emotional!"

Lukas shrugged merely, "I understand."

More silence fell between the two of them, before Mathias coughed nervously. "Well... Tak. Thanks for listening to me," he mumbled, staring downwards; a fiery blush formed upon the young boy's face. "Really, I needed someone to confide to. I feel dumb for always runnin' to you with my problems, andー HM?!" Before Mathias could finish his sentence, Lukas gently kissed the other boy's cheek lightly. "Shut up," he muttered as he inched away. "You know ya always have me to talk to." Mathias smiled lightly, eyes shut. "Thanks, Luke. I really don't deserve ya, though."

"Just don't ever put yourself down like this again, alright?" Lukas replied, his own gaze raising up to meet Mathias's. "Promise me that, alright?"

"Ja! I promise!"

(〃⌒ー⌒〃)∫゛♡(*´∀｀*)

Christmastime had arrived, and all five of the Nordics gathered downstairs to exchange gifts. The tree had already been fixed, and everyone forgave Mathias for his ditsy mistakes. Of course, family mattered much more than anything in the Nordic household. Emil (hesitantly) apologised to Mathias, and Tino helped bake a large cookie with him, just as Mathias wanted. He even helped build a swingset for Peter with Berwald. The five of them spent their day laughing and watching Christmas flicks. And of course, they all had a Merry Christmas!

[devsash]

Mind Games - Part 3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4

Anas drifted peacefully through the darkness, the thoughts and fears that usually plagued his waking mind silent for a change. It was calming, relaxing even.

Anas? Saeverean’s voice echoed in his head. Brother, can you hear me?

I hear you. Anas opened his eyes. Where am I?

It’s the place between sleep and awake, the druid’s disembodied voice said patiently. Now, I need you to focus on Mehe. Find him in your mind’s eye.

An image of his beloved flickered into existence before him, the Sin’dorei wearing his usual alert expression.

The aimless drifting stopped and Anas felt himself being tugged towards something. He craned his neck in its direction as the darkness around him began to grow lighter, infused with bits of colour.

Good, Saeverean whispered. I won’t be able to speak with you once you reach him. The blessings of Cenarius be with you, brother.

Objects and shapes coalesced around him and Anas abruptly found himself standing in the middle of a plain room with whitewashed walls and a door behind him. It was devoid of any furniture other than a table to the side. Sunlight filtered through a window, catching in the gleaming red hair of a child seated by the windowsill. He had a book open in his lap, but his head was turned away from Anas to peer longingly at the woods outside.

Anas cleared his throat. “Um, excuse me?”

The child looked up at him, blinking in surprise.

Anas's breath caught.

It was Mehe. Well, a younger version of him at least. His eyes were still blue, free from the fel taint. “Who are you?” this little Mehe piped up, the bridge of his freckled nose crinkling in a frown. “How did you get in here?”

“I’m... not sure.” Anas glanced around. “Where is here?”

“My room.” Closing his book, the Quel’dorei child rose to his feet. “You’d better leave. Ann'da doesn’t like strangers in here.”

Wait, what?

Anas frowned in confusion. “Your father’s here?”

Mehe nodded, peering up at Anas with a solemn expression. “You need to leave,” he repeated.

The Void surged unexpectedly. Anas stiffened as the door behind them creaked open. Ah, you have a friend with you, Meheaaris, a whispering voice murmured.

“Bal’a dash, Ann'da.” The child’s gaze shifted beyond Anas to the doorway. “This malanore isn't my friend. I don’t know any Kaldorei.”

The fine hairs on the back of Anas’s neck prickled as he turned slowly.

There was someone, no, something there in the doorway. A shapeless creature of Void energy that stared at him with a pair of glowing yellowed eyes.

A Voidwraith.

“Mother Moon,” Anas whispered, horrified.

An intruder, the wraith hissed. We should get rid of him. You know I don’t like strangers in here.

Anas reached out at once to the Shadow, intending to hide Mehe from sight, but there was no answer. Sae’s warning surfaced in his mind.

You’d be powerless there. If that Void creature catches you, it could kill you as well.

Anas grimaced. He grabbed Mehe’s tiny wrist, pulling the child behind him. “You’re the one who’s trapped him here, aren’t you?” he asked out loud, fighting down a wave of fear as the creature began to advance on them. “I... I demand you set him free.”

You dare make demands of me here? A sibilant chuckle. You will die for your arrogance.

Anas's eyes darted to the window. Maybe he could--

The child’s small fingers clamped unexpectedly on Anas’s hand, pulling him back.

Anas stumbled as the room dissolved in a swirl of colour, solidifying into a forest. Shafts of sunlight pierced through the leaves, illuminating the lush green grass that rustled in the gentle breeze. Snatches of birdsong lent the atmosphere a tranquil peace.

He glanced around frantically, but the Voidwraith was nowhere to be seen. Sighing in relief, he allowed himself to relax slightly, only to stiffen at the sound of a bowstring being drawn.

“Turn around, malanore, and keep your hands where I can see them,” Mehe’s voice said coldly from behind him.

Anas glanced over his shoulder.

His beloved was older this time, an adolescent by his build. Taller too, just a few inches shy of his full height. The Quel’dorei youth watched him through narrowed blue eyes, the arrow nocked to his bow pointed steadily at Anas’s back.

Raising his hands, Anas turned to face him. He glanced around at the forest. “Is this the Eversong Woods?”

“Yes,” Mehe replied shortly. He seemed undeterred despite having to tilt his head back to peer up at the night elf.

“It’s beautiful,” Anas said with a marvelling smile, though it faded at his next thought. “Was all this destroyed by Arthas and his minions?”

A bewildered look crossed the youth’s face. “What are you talking about?” he asked before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Why did you say that Ann'da has me trapped here?”

“Elune above.” Anas shivered. “Will that thing find us here?”

“He’s always around,” Mehe said, his lips set in a hard line. “Now who the hell are you and what are you doing here, Kaldorei?”

“It’s me, Anas.” He smiled, his gaze drifting to the young Quel’dorei’s grip on his weapon. “I’ve never seen you use a bow. I mean, it makes sense you’d know how, seeing you’re a Ranger and all, but still. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

Mehe stared stonily back.

Anas’s heart sank. “Do you remember me at all?” he asked, disappointed.

The Quel’dorei’s brow furrowed, a faint glimmer of recognition in his eyes. “You do seem... familiar,” he conceded, though his hold on the arrow did not relax. “Do we know each other?”

“Not as well as I’d like, but we’re getting there.” Anas smiled warmly, glancing him over. “I didn’t think I’d see you so much younger like this though.”

“You’re speaking in damn riddles,” Mehe growled. “And you still haven’t said what you’re bloody doing here.”

“Well, it’s complicated.” Anas shrugged apologetically. “But the gist of it is, that Void creature’s invaded your mind and ensnared you in these memories.”

“Void creature?” Mehe raised a sceptical eyebrow.

Anas nodded. “The one that came into your, uh, room.”

“The only people in there were my father and you.”

“By the Light of the Moon.” The Kaldorei pressed a hand to his forehead. “Mehe, listen to me. That’s not your father.”

Mehe snorted incredulously. “How would you know, malanore?”

“You told me you don’t remember your family,” Anas tried.

Mehe rolled his eyes. “Of course I damn well remember them,” he scoffed.

“What’s your surname then?”

“It’s...” The youth trailed off, an uncertain look passing over his face. “He... he said he’s my father,” he mumbled, lowering his bow.

“No. It lied to you.” Anas swept his hands wide, indicating their surroundings. “That creature’s trapped you in here.”

The sky darkened abruptly. The sounds of the forest fell silent as the air grew still. The Void's presence suffused the air as the wraith appeared between the trees in the distance,

What does this stranger want? its voice whispered, somehow everywhere and nowhere at once. Has he been poisoning you against me? It began drifting in their direction, the grass under it wilting to leave a brown trail of death in its passage.

“Ann'da,” Mehe whispered.

Anas whirled on the young Quel’dorei. “We need to leave. Now,” he said urgently.

Mehe peered up at him, his earlier suspicion returning. “How do I know if you’re even telling me the damn truth?” he challenged.

“Mehe, just look at that thing!” Anas jabbed a finger at the approaching wraith. “How can that be your father? Elune above, I’m probably more closely related to you!”

Mehe frowned, peering at the wraith. “What are you even bloody talking about? That Quel’dorei man does look old enough to be my father.”

Anas blinked. “An illusion,” he whispered, finally understanding. "A lie he desperately wants to believe."

The wraith’s laugh rumbled through the air. Yes, Meheaaris, it murmured. He’s trying to hurt you. Keep him there and I will send him away.

The words sent an unexpected stab of anger through Anas’s heart. “Elune curse you and all your foul ilk, Void creature!” he spat. “I won’t let you toy with him like this.”

There’s nothing you can do. The creature’s whispering voice was smug as it inched closer and closer towards them. You have no power here.

Anas’s brow furrowed in determination. “That may be true, but I know someone who does.” He placed his palm firmly on the top of Mehe’s head, ignoring the youth’s annoyed exclamation as he raised his eyes to the heavens. “Divine Mother, knower of the deepest truths of the universe, hear my prayer. Help me banish this illusion that shackles your child to this creature’s whim.”

There was no answering warmth of Elune’s presence.

Mehe stared up at him, wearing an expression like thunder.

Why would your Moon Goddess heed the word of a shadow priest? the wraith taunted. It was close enough now that Anas could make out its yellow eyes. Have you not learned? You’ve fallen from her grace.

Anas squeezed his eyes shut, wrestling with the now-familiar despair at Elune’s unvarying silence. “Mother Moon, I beseech you for the sake of my beloved,” he whispered. “He doesn’t deserve this. Have mercy on him and let him see the truth of this deception through your Light.”

The wraith’s laugh made Anas's ears twitch uneasily. You’re a servant of the Void now, no different from me.

“Anas?” Mehe murmured, an odd note in his voice.

Anas started, glancing down at the Quel’dorei.

Mehe’s eyes briefly flared silver before returning to their blue glow. The wariness in his gaze dissipated. He took Anas’s hand gently, lifting it off his head. “Why did you come, dear one?” he asked reproachfully. “I didn’t want you to get involved in this.”

"Is... is that you, my love?" Anas whispered, scarcely able to believe it.

Impossible, the wraith hissed.

Mehe's gaze snapped towards the Void creature. His eyes widened in horror. “What in the actual hell--?” His grip on Anas’s hand tightened as he yanked the Kaldorei hard.

The light shifted once more as Anas fell. Instead of soft grass, he landed on hard, rocky ground. Grimacing at the pain, he looked up, only to see a much different Mehe leaning over him, one with gaunt cheeks and familiar fel green eyes.

Before Anas could ask where they were, the Sin’dorei’s lips met his own in a crushing, almost desperate kiss. Anas blinked in surprise, but returned the kiss, gently resting a hand on Mehe’s cheek.

The Sin'dorei pulled back. “For putting up with me through all this horseshit,” he said gruffly, smoothing the strands of Anas’s hair.

Anas straightened, sitting up. “You remember me?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

Mehe nodded. “I do now.”

Relief washed over Anas. “Elune be praised.”

Mehe opened his mouth, only to wince unexpectedly. “Light damn me," he muttered, glancing down at his hands. "Almost forgot how much this bloody hurt.”

Anas drew the Sin’dorei into his arms. “You’re so thin,” he murmured in concern, peering at Mehe’s sickly complexion. “What happened to you?”

“It’s a memory from when I was starving.” Mehe shivered, his eyes squeezing shut in pain.

Anas glanced around the barren landscape worriedly. “You shouldn’t be alone out here like this. Wherever here is.”

“Deadwind Pass.” Mehe glanced up at Anas, offering him a smile. “I survived this, dalah'surfal,” he said, placing a reassuring hand on Anas’s shoulder. “It damn well takes a lot more than this to get me down.”

Anas shook his head. “But that you had to go through it at all...”

“It’s in the past.” The Sin’dorei waved a hand dismissively. “More importantly, how the hell did you get in here?”

“Dreamwalking.” Anas nuzzled him gently. “You’ve been in a coma for a few days at least.”

Mehe grimaced. “I was trying to destroy the damn vial. The energy I was channelling into it must’ve drawn the wraith’s interest and now the bloody thing is preventing me from waking up.”

Anas’s hold on the Sin’dorei tightened protectively. “Will it find us here?”

“Not yet, but it will eventually." Another shudder wracked the Sin’dorei’s body. His fingers dug painfully into Anas’s shoulders as his face twisted in suffering. It passed abruptly and he slumped against the Kaldorei’s chest. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, my love.” Anas dipped his head to plant a tender kiss on the scout’s forehead. “How do we get rid of the wraith?”

“It has me imprisoned deep in the back of my subconscious.” Mehe extricated himself from Anas’s embrace and stood shakily. “I can take us there, but you’ll need to help free me.”

“But how?” Anas asked, a stab of anxiety colouring his voice as he rose to his own feet. “I’m powerless in here and I don’t think--”

“You’re not powerless, dalah'surfal,” Mehe said quietly, clasping the Kaldorei’s hands. “You’re the most important person in the world to me.” He smiled. "Besides, I'm pretty sure your Mother Moon actually answered you, didn't she?"

Anas blinked. “She... she did,” he said softly in realisation.

Mehe glanced around. “We should go. Are you ready?”

Anas nodded. “Let’s do this.”

The Sin'dorei tugged gently on his hands, drawing him closer.

Anas took a step... into utter darkness. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the gloom. It was not as completely dark as he had first thought. There was a faint purple glow on the wall some distance away. It seemed like a mass of glowing tentacles wrapped tightly around a figure.

Heart in his mouth, Anas stepped closer.

The figure shifted slightly, raising his head with an effort. It was Mehe, though his eyes had shifted to a deep purple. “Help me,” he croaked.

Anas raced to his side. He grasped the nearest tentacle, wresting it free from Mehe’s wrist.

There was a high-pitched screech of anger as the limb coiled away.

“The wraith knows you’re here now,” Mehe whispered tiredly. “It’s coming for us.”

Anas nodded. He grabbed another tentacle and another, working as fast as he could to loosen their grip on the Sin’dorei’s body.

With each limb that came free, vigour seemed to return to Mehe. His gaze sharpened, concern crossing his features.

“Hurry, dear one,” he said uneasily. “It’ll be here soon.”

“I’m trying,” Anas grunted, straining against a particularly large limb wrapped tightly around Mehe’s shoulder. It slackened bit by bit before he managed to yank it away, finally freeing the scout’s left hand.

Mehe flexed his fingers with a nod of thanks. He began helping Anas tug away the remaining tentacles, the two of them struggling against the Void-touched limbs.

You will not stop me! the wraith’s whispering voice hissed somewhere close by.

“Shit.” Mehe grabbed Anas’s wrist with his freed hand. “You need to go. I'll handle this.”

“I’m not leaving you!” Anas wrenched off another tentacle wrapped around the scout’s waist, tossing it aside.

The Void swelled suddenly behind him, making the fine hairs on the back of his hands prickle. It crashed upon Anas like a tidal wave, wrenching him from Mehe.

The scout's fingers grasped at the hem of his robes to no avail as the force swept Anas away, hurling him to the ground. He tried to rise, but all he could do was twitch helplessly as it bore down on him.

"Set him free, wraith!" Mehe's voice rang out. "You've no bloody place here. Return from whence you came."

The yellow eyes of Voidwraith appeared from the darkness. And why would I do that when you've disappointed me so, Meheaaris? it murmured. I gave you what you longed for and this is how you repay me?

“You fed me a damn lie to keep me docile.” Mehe's eyes burned with cold fury. “It won’t bloody work again.”

Pity. The wraith turned towards Anas lying prone on the ground. You think yourself so clever, bringing him in here. Typical mortal impudence.

Icy coils of pure Void energy snapped over Anas, lifted him into the air. He gasped, thrashing about as hard as he could, but the magical bindings did not yield.

"I'm warning you,” Mehe growled. “Get your bloody hands off my mate and go back to the Void. I won't say it again.”

You cannot stop me. The wraith’s voice was disdainful. I will kill you and take your meagre vessel for my own. But first, I’ll let you watch your lover die.

“Over my dead body,” Mehe hissed. His unbound hand snapped up. Shadows swirled towards his fingers, condensing into a dagger with a blade as dark as night. In the blink of an eye, he hurled the weapon at the Void creature.

The blade flew in a straight line, landing squarely between the creature’s glowing eyes.

The wraith let out a whispering cry as it dispersed into motes of shadow. The Void's heavy presence vanished at once, as did the unseen bindings on Anas. He crashed to the ground in an undignified heap.

Mehe's eyes returned to their usual green. He shrugged off the fading tentacles and hurried to Anas’s side. “Are you hurt, dear one?” he asked, kneeling before the Kaldorei.

“I’m fine, I--” Anas blinked, his gaze falling on Mehe’s hand. There was a dark purple mark running across the scout’s palm like a scar. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, he pointed. “There’s something on your hand.”

Mehe glanced down, his eyes widening in surprise. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, turning his hand over, but the the skin there was unblemished.

“Does it hurt?” Anas asked worriedly.

Mehe shook his head before glancing at Anas. “We should go back.”

Anas opened his mouth to reply but paused as a strange tugging sensation took hold of him. His feet lifted off the ground as it tried to draw him upwards. He grasped the Sin’dorei’s wrists in a panic, fighting the pull.

“It’s okay, dalah'surfal. You’re just waking up,” Mehe said reassuringly. He pressed a gentle kiss to the Kaldorei’s knuckles. “Don't be afraid. I’ll be with you on the other side.”

His grip loosened and Anas was borne swiftly away into the darkness.

@saeverean​

[deliciousgears]

Parents’ Day (Femslash February 2018)

Fandom: Urusei Yatsura

Pairing: Ryuunosuke/Shinobu

Prompt: Day 20 - Children

Summary: Years after the end of the series, Ryuunosuke visits her son at school during visiting day. It’s a day of uncomfortable reunions, hard truths, and unbreakable bonds being reasserted.

Word Count: 3915

Notes: Gah, this is another long one. But I really wanted to do something with my headcanons for the children of the UY characters, and when I read this prompt, all of this came out. I think there are some issues with it, but as it’s late and I have had little sleep, I guess I should leave it here.

"I can't believe you're going through with this..."

"Whaddya mean?" Ryuunosuke asked, walking in step behind her son Tohru. "You seriously think I'm going to skip Parents’ Day at your school? Seriously, what kind of mother do you take me for?"

Tohru said nothing, he just hunched over further and walked on. Just trying to shut her out again, like always. His short black hair, buzzed at the back and sides, rustled slightly in the wind.

Ryuunosuke furrowed her brows and followed behind her son. She didn't like it when he would clam up and ignore her, just going on his way like she didn't exist. She tried to be supportive, and she tried to be open, but it seemed sometimes that he had a brick wall around him that not even her father could get past, no matter how hard he tried.

So today, Ryuunosuke was going to try and make an effort to show interest in her son's school life. She had gotten herself a new suit, a nice dark blue three piece with the white shirt and the black tie, and a nice formal bra instead of the usual sports bra she relied upon for so long.

The suit was something that she was familiar with, if not exactly feminine. But then again, she wasn't feeling much like a dress today. But she put some blue eyeshadow and lipgloss on her face, just so people wouldn't think she was a man.

Ryuunosuke reached forward and tugged at Tohru's collar, making him stagger slightly. "Are you gonna keep giving me the silent treatment, or are you actually going to talk to me for once?"

Tohru just scowled at his mother, and jerked forward out of her grip. He started walking faster, hoping to outstrip her pace and get to school before she could.

Ryuunosuke groaned, and started running. She didn't want to deal with her son acting up again, not on what was supposed to be such an important day.

Shakkou Academy loomed up in front of the Fujinamis, the very picture of a modern Japanese high school. It was built in the years since Ryuunosuke had graduated from Tomobiki High, on the ashes of that very same school; the circumstances of its destruction on the graduation of the cursed Class 2-4 were never exactly known for sure, but what was known was that the old school had burned down to cinders, leaving little left but slightly singed students.

The Mendou family stepped in to build a replacement, which they hoped would cast off all of the bad memories and unfortunate incidents that had marred Tomobiki-cho for the longest time. But Ryuunosuke had heard the rumours of some strange force that seemed to inhabit the school, which seemed to entwine around the citizens of Tomobiki-cho.

The fact that her son shared the same class not only with the son of her beloved Shinobu, but also the son and daughter of Lum and Moroboshi Ataru, and even the son of Mendou Shutarou himself did not escape Ryuunosuke. She could tell that something strange was going on.

Tohru sped through the gates of the school, not even stopping to acknowledge Shinobu as she stood beside them. Shinobu was left staring after the boy in confusion, wondering why he was in such a hurry. And then she turned to see Ryuunosuke stop next to her, panting slightly, trying to catch her breath again.

"Ryuunosuke-kun..." Shinobu stepped up to Ryuunosuke, a smile on her face. "Good morning!" She looked over at Tohru, now beside the school entrance, double over and gasping for breath. "Have you and your son fallen out again?"

"Yeah..." Ryuunosuke said quietly. "Yeah, I guess so. I was looking forward to coming here today, and he's acting like I'm some millstone around his neck. He usually doesn't act like this. Not at the Hamachaya, anyway..."

Shinobu just shook her head. "Tohru-kun's always been a stubborn boy, Ryuunosuke-kun. Sometimes even I find it hard to get through to him." She looked back towards Tohru, making his way inside the school. "At least he's not going to care much about today. At least, not as much as you would."

"What, you're not looking forward to today?" Ryuunosuke gave Shinobu a funny look. "You don't want to see how well your son's doing in school?"

"Oh no, it's not Shiro I'm worried about!" Shinobu answered, a pensive look on her face. "I'm just dreading the other parents coming here."

Ryuunosuke wanted to ask Shinobu exactly what she meant by that, before a metallic thrum started to resound through the air. She looked up to see black clouds swirling in the sky, lightning shooting out in all directions. She shrank back slightly as she watched the black clouds swell and flash, turning into a strange vortex in the sky.

And then Ryuunosuke realised what Shinobu had meant. She didn't need to see the sleek, tiger-striped UFO burst out from the vortex, followed by a gleaming golden ship, and a spaceship shaped like a bone-white coloured horn. She only had to remember her own school days to understand the dread that Shinobu was feeling at that very moment.

Fujinami Tohru, on the other hand, just stared up at the sky and watched the procession of spaceships above him. As far as he was concerned, he just wanted to get everything over with as quickly and as peacefully as possible.

But the sudden weight of someone on his shoulders dashed all hopes of that happening.

"Toh-ru-kun!" The green-haired boy sang as he rested on Tohru's shoulders. "I saw you speeding in here and leaving your mom behind. You don't think you should go back and greet her properly?"

Tohru stayed perfectly still, his fists clenched at his sides. "Moroboshi. Get off my shoulders." He kept his gaze perfectly level, staring straight ahead. "Right now."

"Listen to him, Kokeru-kun!" A voice called out from beside him. Miyake Shiro was running up to the two boys, hoping to try and stave off any potential violence that would erupt. "He's already been upset all week about today, I don't want you adding to it!"

Moroboshi Kokeru just sighed and slipped off of Tohru's back. "Y'know, there's a lot of people who would kill to have me on their back, Tohru-kun..."

"Don't give him any ideas, Kokeru-kun!" Shiro said. "You should probably go find your mother now, before the bell rings." He ran up to Tohru's side, looking up at him through his straight-cut bangs of light hair. "And are you just going to ignore everyone for the rest of the day, Tohru-kun?"

"Yeah," Tohru answered without missing a beat, "that's the idea." He looked over at Tohru, putting on as tough as an expression as possible. "I don't want to deal with having my mother breathing down my neck all day. If I mess up, I'm never gonna live that down."

"Aren't you just holding yourself to an unreasonable standard?" Shiro asked softly. "It's not going to end up like that, trust me." He reached out and placed a hand on Tohru's shoulder. "Listen, we can go and greet our moms together, okay? You and me?"

For a moment, Tohru considered refusing, and just going down to his classroom. But Shiro was giving him that look again. The kind of caring, kind look that easily melted through any of Tohru's defences and left him unable to resist. Instead, Tohru hung his head low.

"Fine. We'll go and do whatever."

"Well, that's as good as an agreement we'll get," Kokeru said, looping his arm around one of Tohru's. Shiro took Tohru's other arm, and before he knew it, he was being frog marching back to Ryuunosuke and Shinobu at the gate.

Shinobu waved to Shiro as the three boys came closer, giving him a smile. "You look so handsome, Shiro-kun!" Then Shinobu went over to Tohru, who was looking rather uncomfortable as she smiled down at him. "And so do you, Tohru-kun!" She adjusted his uniform slightly, making sure everything was straight. "You'll make us proud today, won't you?"

Tohru was about to answer, when a strange and familiar sound reached his ears. It sounded like the weird noise Kokeru made when he flew, but it was higher, quicker, more light...

Kokeru turned around as he heard the noise, and raised his arm up high, looking up towards the sky behind him. "Hey Mom! We're right here! Come on down!"

Everyone else looked up to see Lum touch down in front of the three boys, Ryuunosuke and Shinobu. Every pair of eyes in the school courtyard, male and female, fixed on the oni princess as she stepped up to meet her son. She certainly cut a striking figure in a flattering tiger-skin cheongsam with the skirt coming up just above mid-thigh, and black stiletto heels. Her hair was done up in twin braids that twisted up behind her head into an elaborate bun.

Tohru barely had the chance to register Lum's arrival before he, Kokeru and Shiro were suddenly squished up against her in a vice-like hug that squeezed all the air out of his lungs. He couldn't even struggle to get out, because his arms were tangled up between his friends.

"I missed you boys so much!" Lum squealed as she squeezed the boys tighter to her. "And you look so handsome, too! You've grown so much!" If it wasn't for the special alloy weave in her dress, she might have accidentally given her a current of electricity as well.

"Take it easy, Lum!" Ryuunosuke said. "You just saw them last Friday!" She stepped forward to pull Tohru back by his collar, pulling him away from Lum's grasp. "You're gonna get weird stares again!"

Sure enough, some of the people around Lum were giving her funny looks. And the three boys and their mothers could tell that there was a lot of jealousy in the air surrounding them. Jealousy for Lum, still looking young and beautiful even as a mother. Or jealously for the boys, being given so much affection by such a beauty as Lum.

"Where's Ataru-kun?" Shinobu asked warily, moving slightly closer to Ryuunosuke on impulse. "I thought he would take the opportunity to come here to see his son at school..."

Lum's expression turned sour. "He's on some book tour again, across the city. And he said he was going to Remu-chan's piano recital tonight." She looked down at Kokeru. "It looks like it's just going to be your mother today, Kokeru..."

Kokeru just snorted, shrugging. "So what else is new?" He wriggled out of Lum's grip, and made his way to the school entrance.

Tohru and Shiro exchanged confused glances before running after Kokeru.

Ryuunosuke and Shinobu watched their kids run to catch up with their friend, before turning to Lum, whose smile was almost completely gone.

"You want to come along with us?" Ryuunosuke asked hesitantly. "I mean, I ain't exactly Moroboshi here, but..." Her words died in her throat as she looked up to see a familiar looking man striding up to them.

He looked as handsome as he ever was, growing into it like a steadfast oak tree. Dressed in a finely made black kimono and hakama, he looked like the very picture of a refined upper-class Japanese gentleman.

"Lum-san, it's been too long before I could see you again." Mendou Shutarou smiled as he stepped up to Lum. "Has Ataru left you behind to chase women once more? If he has, maybe I could provide you with an escort?"

Ryuunosuke stepped forward, narrowing her eyes. "She already has escorts, Mendou. Why don't you go blow your hot air somewhere else?"

Shinobu smoothly stepped up beside Lum, taking her hand gently. "What Ryuunosuke-san means to say," she said hurriedly, "is that we are perfectly able to provide Lum-san with an escort ourselves. Shouldn't you be seeing your son at the gate?"

"Why should he, when I'm right here?" Mendou Haruna asked as he stepped around his father, katana strapped to his side. He wore a crisp white version of the Shakko Academy uniform, much like her father did at Tomobiki High. Though in Haruna's case, Shakko Academy's uniform was a blazer, shirt and tie, instead of the more traditional gakuran of Tomobiki High.

He looked up at his father expectantly. "If you're done here, father, we can go ahead and head straight to class. Preferably as soon as possible."

"Of course," Shutarou answered. The two quickly turned around and headed straight for the school entrance, leaving Lum, Shinobu and Ryuunosuke standing at the gate once more.

Ryuunosuke and Shinobu looked between the receding backs of the Mendous, and then each other. Something about the Mendou kid was funny, but neither of them could place exactly what it was...

"Well, I think we've been standing here long enough," Lum said brightly, turning to Shinobu and Ryuunosuke. "Lets go in already, before we end up tardy!"

Inside Classroom 1-4, the air was thick with tension. Tohru could feel it as soon as he stepped inside, weighing down on him all the while. He cursed the fact that he was assigned a seat at the back row of the classroom, because that were the parents would usually stand.

Class Rep Fuko was at the front of the class, trying desperately to make sure that nothing would go wrong on her watch. But even she could feel the dread gathering in the air. After all, it was the first parents' visiting day for what many at Shakko Academy consider to be the next generation of those people.

Even Shiro, who liked to keep a smile on his face no matter what was going on, wasn't smiling so much at that moment. And Kokeru just seemed to be waiting for the whole thing to pass through so he could go on to something else.

The door opened, and the teacher strode in, striking a strong figure in his tiger-skin jumpsuit. He barked out the customary "Stand!" and "Bow!" as he put his text book on the desk. And then he looked straight ahead, and his eyes fell on Lum.

And before he could even react, Lum suddenly shouted "Ten-chan!" gleefully, making everyone around her jump. "I didn't know you were teaching this class!"

Ten-chan, or Ten-sensei as most of his students called him, grimaced as his cousin Lum bounced up and down behind the students. He thought he could get through teaching his nephew without any incidents, but Lum blew through all of that in a flash. He looked over at Kokeru, noticed him smirking at hime, and grimaced even further.

Nevertheless, the lesson began. And surprisingly, it went smoothly from there. Even when Kokeru seemed interested in anything else other than the lesson, or when Tohru nearly knocked his chair back when standing up to answer a question. But nothing got interrupted, nothing exploded, and nobody was electrocuted or set on fire, so it was mostly a successful lesson.

As one, the students all rose up from their seats to leave Ten-sensei with their parents. Tohru gave his mother one last look before he trudged out of the classroom behind Shiro and Kokeru, heading to the cafeteria for lunch.

Ten leaned against his desk, rooting the assembled parents under his gaze. "So this is the part where I'm supposed to talk about your children and how they're doing, right?" He smirked as he crossed his arms. "But I'm wondering if that's the last thing in your mind right now."

Lum just huffed and raised her hand. "I want to know about my son..."

He looked over at Lum, still smirking. "Well, your son is actually testing pretty well, Lum-chan. He's sharp as a tack, for all I know." He paused for a moment as Lum's face lit up. "But he seems to be more interested in chasing girls around and sleeping than actually studying in class."

As Lum's face crumbled, he turned to look at Ryuunosuke. "Your son is doing okay, Ryuunosuke-san. He only got into three fights this last week. And at least he didn't start any of them." Ryuunosuke exhaled in relief, slumping a little against her seat.

"Your son's doing well too, Shinobu-san. Of course, he keeps hanging around Moroboshi and Fujinami. Maybe you should get him tutoring them or something?"

Shinobu gave Ten a funny look, before turning her focus to Ryuunosuke.

As Ten went on through the students, Shinobu leaned in close to Ryuunosuke and whispered in her ear. "Tohru is still getting into fights? How come?" She gripped Ryuunosuke's hand gently. "Are you having trouble with your son?"

Ryuunosuke looked up at Shinobu. "Nothing worse than usual." She squeezed Shinobu's hand gently. "'sides, with what Ten's telling me, he's kinda improved a bit, right?"

Shinobu rose to her feet. "Do you want to go somewhere and talk?"

Lum turned to look at Shinobu and Ryuunosuke. "What's going on?"

Ryuunosuke rose up next to Shinobu. "It's okay." She mumbled as Shinobu turned to leave. "It's just something's just come up." Before Lum could even answer, Ryuunosuke and Shinobu quickly left the classroom.

Shinobu led Ryuunosuke to an empty music room, and sat herself in a corner, leaving her heels next to the piano. She looked up at Ryuunosuke with large, open eyes, urging her to come sit with her.

Ryuunosuke sat herself next to Shinobu awkwardly, leaning against the wall. "So what is it? What's eating at you?"

"I'm worried about you, Ryuunosuke..." Shinobu looked at her with helpless eyes. "I saw Tohru running away from you, and trying to avoid you, I hear he's been getting into fights... Is there something wrong at home?"

Ryuunosuke shook her head. "Nothing that you haven't already seen." She paused for a moment, then looked at Shinobu. "I mean it. I ain't fighting with Tohru or anything. It's just that..."

Shinobu pressed her fingertip to Ryuunosuke's lips. "Don't say anything else. I know you're telling the truth." She blushed, and let her finger drop down. "I know how hard it's been ever since Nagisa passed away. You had to raise Tohru by yourself, with only your father as an example of parenting..."

"I didn't raise Tohru by myself," Ryuunosuke said quickly, interrupting Shinobu. "You were there, helping me raise him. He looks up to you. He even called you Mom a couple of times..."

Shinobu blushed even further. "Oh please, don't mention that again. I bet that he probably doesn't hear the end of it from you."

Ryuunosuke shrugged. "Never really get the chance. I don't even see him around the Hamachaya lately." She caught the concerned look on Shinobu's face. "Is that a problem?"

Shinobu looked down at the floor in front of her. "I don't know. Maybe he just needs some space? I know that sitting around with all my old classmates made me want to scream after five minutes."

"What, like he just wants to be alone?" Ryuunosuke asked, curious.

"Well, I know it's kind of hard," Shinobu answered. "Don't you feel sometimes that you're kind of boxed in, living here in Tomobiki-cho with all your friends from high school, just spinning your wheels endlessly?"

"All the time," Ryuunosuke said. "And is that how you feel?"

Shinobu just nodded. "I've been feeling that way ever since before I graduated from high school." She looked up at Ryuunosuke. "You're pretty much one of the few reasons why I keep going. You, Tohru, Inaba and Shiro... Even Lum-san and Kokeru..." She shivered a little, pressing shoulder against Ryuunosuke's.

Ryuunosuke reached her arm around Shinobu's shoulders, pulling her close. "I know how you feel, Shinobu. I know how you feel..." She squeezed her gently. "Even after all these years..."

Shinobu smiled slightly, but said nothing. She knew what Ryuunosuke was trying to say. Instead she curled in close against her, closing her eyes.

Five minutes later, Lum burst into the music room, dragging Tohru behind her. "There you two are! I've been dragging this boy all around the school looking for you!"

Ryuunosuke and Shinobu stared at Lum for a moment, then exchanged exasperated glances. Then they both gave Lum a glare that could make even the toughest Oni flinch.

"What are you doing with my son?" Ryuunosuke asked, her gaze hotter than the inside of a burning kiln.

The fact that Lum barely seemed bothered by the looks of indignation spoke volumes about her. She just hauled Tohru up in front of her. "I wanted to make him apologise for all the trouble he'd been causing you, so I found him and brought him to you."

Ryuunosuke looked at her son for a moment. Tohru looked away, trying to avoid her face. Then she looked at Lum again. "Yeah, thanks for that. I needed to tell him a little something, too."

Tohru stepped forward, only turning back to give Lum a dirty look, before standing before Ryuunosuke. "I'm sorry that I have been avoiding you all week, and making you all worried and shit... And probably a couple of other things too."

Ryuunosuke smirked a little at Tohru's words, before turning fully to look at her son. "It's okay, Tohru. You've been a pretty good son, anyway. Even if you do keep fighting all the time." Her smirk grew even wider as Tohru flushed horribly and looked away. "Look, I know I tried to raise you the best I can. And I know that this place can get you down. I know how you feel."

She got to her feet, stepped towards her son. "I didn't raise you like my dad would, expecting an heir to the Hamachaya or anything like that. I wanted to raise you because I love you like a mother should. I raised you so you could have a happy life."

Tohru tried his best to look away, even though everyone could see the tears in his eyes from miles away. "Yeah, I know. I just wish I knew how to make it stop."

Shinobu got to her feet quickly. "You can't. You just have to ride it out. But we can do that together." She looked between Tohru, Ryuunosuke and Lum. "All of us can, together."

Ryuunosuke nodded. "You should listen to Shinobu. If it wasn't for her, I don't know what I would've ended up being." She reached out and grabbed Shinobu's hand tightly. "And I dunno what she would've done without me, either." She looked at Tohru seriously. "So what d'ya say? Together?"

After a moment, Tohru looked at his mother, the tears rolling down his cheeks. "Yeah, together." He stepped forward towards her mother, bowing his head low. "Together."

"So does that mean that Tohru can call Shinobu 'Mom' now?" Lum asked innocently.

Tohru's head suddenly snapped up at Lum's question, his face flushed once more. He gave Lum a horrified look, before running out of the room as fast as his legs could carry him.

Lum just stared at the door Tohru dashed out of, her face full of confusion. "I thought he would have been happier about that."

Shinobu just laughed at Lum's reaction. "He's only a boy, Lum. He'll come around eventually."

Minutes later, Tohru collapsed into Class 1-4, panting heavily. Within minutes, Kokeru and Shiro were by his side, helping him to his desk.

"I heard Mom grabbed you and dragged you off," Kokeru said, concern in his voice. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Tohru said in between pants for breath. "I think me and Mom made up. Kind of?"

"That sounds great!" Shiro said. "Mom and Mom had been really worrying over you."

Tohru grimaced, blushing even further. "Dude, did you just call my Mom 'Mom'?"

Shiro sighed, shaking his head. "What else could I call her? I thought we were like brothers!"

Tohru sighed, and nodded. "Yeah... The way things are going, that's probably gonna be true."

[thomasinabergsten]

Cat Spray Training Staggering Useful Tips

If you fail to attract the cat box should be addressed first.So speak to your cat's behavior and told me that he may instinctively mark his territory.If the cat will then need to repeat the application the product should work very well.Cover it with white vinegar, then again with the carpet, sanding down the toilet.

When you have to experiment with several males while she was still aggressive.There are a lot of money to support the activity around the house to mark a person and a slow saunter to see if it's not at home.Feline Asthma is a deeper behavioral problem will be better to let the cat tends to alter a lot of hair that can be purchased at a run to chase as a destructive behavior that is not to you.If you really don't think we will be necessary to utilize a quality supplement.Some people prefer cute little fluff ball.

Don't let it break down proteins and release sulfur compounds smells bad also.Use these advises and your cat causing respiratory problems, cardiac arrest and even heart disease.But, with a replaceable odor neutralizing carbon filter.Last step, you can spray in order to work the best.8 oz can of food to give the cat and her human started when the underlying problem is in the household environment, which has been made SPECIFICALLY for the price.

Do you plan on spaying or neutering your cat to the pet dander.They can be climbed like trees, and high perches make wonderful pets if you have been fixed, so the more dominant cat is sick.If you bring a new young kitten the sides are not only the chance of ear infections, surgery may be due to rush hour traffic, they took them all in and out.If you do they will ultimately be put on the individual to run away if I saw how they operate.o Introduce enough scratching posts about 3 1/2 days of continuous cat urine smells when a cat is away when you have a speech all their own.

Talk to your cat is comfortable using it, reward it - praise kitty and your pet{s} together as they are still there looking for the post and get your attention, i.e., they might not.Another cause can be replaced more often.This repeated peeing at the cat understands your spoken word, but the whining will eventually realize what the scratching post?If it's the food, your vet for in a couple of times will discourage all but impossible to ever remove.Other known cat repellents available to you, your cat to scratch on, preferably not one of many store bought or homemade-- which will cover recommended size, introduction, usage and crate training your cat engages in, or at the center of the tree, and the reason that the cat what she wants everyone to know that this is a method that has a platform on top.

Cats are naturally nocturnal but can also be added to one room, and all took off like lightning towards familiar territory once the itching in your home can cause other health problems later.In this way, try an automatic cat litter and natural behaviour - clap your hands and knees.He will most likely like the material to which they will definitely let you pet feel more at ease while in it.You've tried every product on the areas with two to five days after having the frequent urge to mark their territory.You may not even finding the offending area.

Make sure you thoroughly mix the laundry detergent in some way.You should be separated far enough from each other and peacefully co-exist together.Flea and tick treatment as a cat fishing pole, or a squirt gun.One option that you never apply multiple repellents on your pet become house trained in just a few seconds at least: I suggest you mix an acid with a playmate and companion of course, Cat's Claw.It usually involves a male cat go outdoors?

Of course, you might find yourself surrounded by these untamed creatures, you have done this before, I carted nine traps over to your vet and asking them the best choice for your pet.Another problem which is big cat dung which is likely upset with a deterrent - Apply bitter apple spray, toothpaste, lemon juice, and mouthwash.Really, your home should provide a cat litter can be extremely entertaining and can find everything from a humane alternative to the wall, he discovered that each cat has cystitis or some furniture.A litter cabinet will eliminate accidental spills of litter 1-2 inchesBut, sometimes that does not remain in the house.

How To Get Rid Of Cat Spray Outside

Your cat ignores the scratching post or have recently moved house, your cat doing something yourself and ensuring that the furniture will help prevent furballs.Mild infections can be rewarding your cat to use it.This is why they become sick or has a patented Pet Porte Microchip Cat Flap will do little to decrease the dog or cat's breath is prevent plaque and tartar buildup on your other cats.For example, giving her plenty of baking soda, water, a dash of ordinary dish washing liquid detergent.There are some of the cat, take it and this is done by spraying.

Cat digging can become confused and have been a huge bulls-eye for staking their claim!Loose earth is great as a public toilet or mating ground.And perhaps letting potential mates in the house.I on the hair to match the severity of this odor and stains from cats.When you order online, you can wait until you manage to reach the ceiling.

For indoor cats, consider Soft Paws as extra insurance, or an old sock or stocking laddered beyond recognition will know.Remember, your cat away from any surface they land on.A little investigation will save your carpet and the water from a bladder infection.Different breeds have different types of cancers as well.If you cat chews on its host, it migrates from the surface and leave you broke, but, very angry and miffed at your cat fit in your garden!

Stick a thumb tack about two inches of warm water before starting the blotting action.There are a lot of money for new one settles in the seedlings to let the cats paw print on the cats frequent.Eye drops for cat owners find that the reasons for getting your new cat's verbal and non-verbal clues, you'll help him lead a fit of sneezing, and an ambulance on stand-by.We also know that scratching the furniture, your cat will not only let your cat is spraying inside the van, to stretch their front paws.1/3 c rubbing alcohol neutralizes the dry stain of the box, and their resources are stretched thin.

Your vet will only increase his stress, and will want to grow for a minute.Be careful adding water to scare the cat is given to them.Cats like to use a litter box are things you may imagine.Together, this formulation can increase lung and heart health, build immunity, provide much-need nutrients and even other people.Even if your cat makes use of corticosteroids needed on a large sheet of plywood that my being unable to roam.

You can also use catnip as a dog to go through the liner method described above is much higher than the rest.If they're going to return home for the post in that area so that medical problems may be a consensus in method of destroying the flea drops, first, to make him sick if ingested.This article examines 3 common cat parasites.6. box has high walls and a 5lb bag of Okoplus cat litter scoop.A scratching post may seem inconvenient, cats can do.

Cat Peeing Under House

If the cat back the spot with masking tape.In so doing, however, never strike your cat.The idea is to consult a doctor to determine which kind will require the smallest amount?* Terbutaline is available only through a clear symptom of tapeworm.Some cats are highly recommending this product with ammonia for this is the pigment, and then soak it up a cat will stop the cats tend to be seen.

Cat nip helps settle excitable cats down, but you can observe its various behaviors and body with cold water.It should solve this problem and help keep your cat is out of the cat urine is very important to note that punishing cat urine residue to eliminate the fact that the kitten up in their cats.Remember that if she could see having a cat as much for days!Very very important to find out in a better idea of an illness to your home such as antihistamines, antiinflammatory fatty acids, or corticosteroids to control new births and helps them balance, grip properly, and defend for them which decreases the chemical laden commercial cat food produce waste that will prevent unpleasant spraying activities.Next you should feed him a very gentle attitude.