#and our walls are very much not soundproof so if i didn't tell her she would still find out

[wereh0gz]

Wow being a vtuber/pngtuber sounds like fun (<- watched one (1) tutorial on how to make a pngtuber, has not made any plans to stream, does not have any proper equipment or a good place to stream)

[archersxartxblog]

Master post

finally got this one done, might as well post it today.

Chapter 26

Math

Why the heck did it have to be math?

Akari sighed as she paced back and forth, running over Unxie's question with her mind in an attempt to find the answer. 

" Combee, Zubat,Unown, Magneton, Dusclops, how many are their eyes? Tell me one by one but all at once."

Okay, so it wasn't technically a math quiz, but she was guessing that Unxie wanted her to figure out how many eyes each pokemon had and then condense it into a single number.

At least that's what she hoped Unxie wanted. 

Behind her the twins sat against the wall with Irida, safe and sound, chatting quietly with each other and sometimes their clan leader. 

Lampent floating casually through the air near the three. A precautions made Lil Ingo with the hopes that she could keep any psychic intrusion at bay. Given what happened at the last two lakes. 

Luckily, Unxie didn't seem to be up to such shenanigans. And Akari wasn't about to tell him that Lampent might not be able to do much against the power of one of the lake guardians. If having the ghost out of her pokeball made him feel safe she wasn't about to take that from him.

She couldn't help but notice the large gap between those of the Pearl clan and Volo. But really she thought nothing of it. Ingo and Emmet weren't really outgoing individuals, at least not with anyone new. Ingo tended to be quite shy until you got to know him, and Emmet wasn't really a big talker. top that off with all the nonsense happening at the moment on top of that and Akari could understand we the two hadn't been overly friendly towards the merchant.

As for Irida, well she was the leader of the Pearl clan, so anyone who made members of her clan feel uncomfortable would no doubt rub her the wrong way as well.

But with any luck, once all this was solved, proper introductions could be made and twins could warm up to Volo the way she had.

That being said…

This would all be solved a lot faster, if she could ask for a bit of help.

But alas… Unxie had made its point very clear that this challenge was for her and her alone. The pokemon even went so far as to put up a soundproof barrier around the two of them.

Now how many eyes did a combee have? Most pokemon only had two, but then again, combee had three heads. So was it two to each head? So that would be six, right?

And what about Zubat? Did they even have eyes? She honestly wasn't sure, she'd never really looked that hard. Maybe she could check her pokedex ?

And a Magneton? They had one eye right? No, wait, that wasn't that magnemite? She hadn't even seen a magnemite since she got here, at least not outside Ingo's team. Magneton was the three magnemites stuck together, right?

Unown and Dusclops were easy at least. They both only had one eye each.

"Are you ready to answer?" The lake guardian asked, and Akari was positive that the lake guardian was staring down at her through its closed eyelids. 

Was she…

"Yes," She nodded, taking a deep breath.

She wasn't going to be able to fix anything if she stayed here second-guessing herself.

Akari just hoped that her answer was right.

"Your answer then…"

"It's…"

—

"Why didn't you wanna catch the Alpha Zoroark?" Ingo asked as he leaned against the wall of the cave, watching as Akari paced back and forth deep in thought on the other side of Unxie's barrier. 

His brother sat next to him with a deep pout on his face as he turned the empty pokeball around in his hands.

"That big Zoroark would have made a great part of your team." He continued, glancing over at his twin. "You would have been the first one of us to catch and train an Alpha. And there's no way it would run away on you."

"Yeah, but…" Emmet sighed, his eyes locked on the handmade ball in his hands. "It's not my Zoroark… and I want my Zoroark."

Guess he couldn't really argue with that logic. 

Ingo probably wouldn't be too keen on just catching a replacement to one of his pokemon, even if it would be cool to have an Alpha as part of their team.

"To think your father lets you near a Zoroark. He, out of everyone, should know how dangerous they are." Ingo heard Lady Irida mutter from the otherside of his brother. Less than happy about the topic of discussion. "A Gyarados and now a Zoroark, maybe I should have a talk with your father about what kind of pokemon are appropriate for children."

Right, while Lady Irida had talked a big game about Ingo's Gyarados, the moment she had been confronted with actually interacting with the pokemon her resolve started to fade. Emmet had never been fond of flying but it had been Lady Irida who had been the quickest to get off Gyarados's back.

She had been even less pleased to learn about Emmet’s Zoroark.

“There are much more dangerous Pokemon at our Uncle’s house. Yep! He trains dragon types, wrestles them too.” Emmet chipped in, a slight smile returning to his face, and Ingo couldn’t help but feel homesick once again at the mention of his uncle.

“That doesn’t exactly make me feel better.” Irida sighed leaning back against the walls. “Since you both have a strange form of Pokeball, I assume you have them back in your homeland. So I am guessing your Uncle does not just let these dragons roam your home so freely, would that be correct?” she asked before muttering quietly something along the lines of ‘Almighty Sinnoh forgive me, for I am starting to see use behind these devices’.

Ingo hummed a bit in thought. It felt like it had been almost a year since he and his brother had been at his Uncle’s place even if it had only been a couple of months. Uncle Drayden was probably really worried about them. 

���Yeah, sometimes. Larger ones, and new catches mostly.” He answered with a simple shrug, remembering how their Uncle allowed his partners and new hatches to wander the halls of his house. while fresh catches and newly evolved Dragon Pokemon were kept in Pokeballs and were only allowed out in the yard until they were trained up. He missed being Woken up by Axew crawling into bed with him, and seeing his Uncle spare with his Flygon out in the yard. “Dragon Pokemon can be like big Growlithes when they're trained right.”

“I guess that makes sense, though it would be better not to interact with such dangerous creatures to begin with and just let them be, in my opinion.” Lady Irida shook her head, looking down at Emmet’s belt. “But if interacting and bonding with such dangerous pokemon is normal where you are from I suppose the use of Pokeballs would come in handy, especially  for children.” 

she paused and hummed a bit in thought, as she reached down and plucked Elektrik’s ball from his brother’s belt, causing Emmet to squawk in protest. “Though these contraptions seem to be much sturdier than those used by the Galaxy Team.” she turned the ball over in her hand, running her hands over the smooth surface. “But it does seem very resource intensive, they must be quite expensive to make.” She handed the ball back to his twin. 

“Expensive? They only cost 200 poke-Ow! Ingo!”

It was a bit of a knee-jerk reaction, roughly digging his elbow into his brother’s side. But it was the only thing Ingo could think to do to get Emmet to stop talking.

“Y-yeah! They're really Expensive to make… reason why Trainers-ah- Pokemon wielders in Unova only tend to have one. Unless they take the path of the Dragon master…” It was probably his worst lie yet. 

Even Emmet was giving him a look that said ‘what the heck are you talking about’.

but he panicked, forgetting all the history lessons both school and his Uncle had drilled into his head. So he just made something up. 

It was better than hinting they might be from the future, right? Sure they had not been that careful before, and really it was only a working theory currently, but there was no reason they couldn’t be watching their wording from here on out.

And if a normal Pokeball from their time looked resource intensive to someone in Hisui then it was probably best to play into that scarcity…right? 

Even if most kids their age could probably get about five of them with a week's worth of allowance down at the local Pokemart.

“Ah, yes. That would make sense." Irida smiled, giving a slight nod. Effectively turning Emmet's disbelieving look on to her.

Ingo couldn't believe it either…she actually bought that.

"Perhaps, should your Uncle travel to Hisui, you can give him the recipe for The Galaxy team's pokeballs to take back with him." She continued, seemingly oblivious to the twin's befuddlement. "I am sure he would find them much more cost-effective for pokemon like Litwick and Tynamo. Your father has seemed to take a shine to them, much to my displeasure."

"Ye-yeah…I-I'm sure he would like th-that…" Ingo stuttered trying to ignore the fact that it would very much be unlikely that their uncle even could travel to hisui, unless there was some major rip in reality in chargestone cave. 

He also didn't like the implication that if by some chance their Uncle did come to Hisui, that they wouldn't be returning with.

But before either he or Emmet could even reply, the odd yellowish glow of the barrier started to noticeably fade, as Akari started to make her way towards them.

"Akari!" Ingo yelled, wincing slightly as his voice cracked with the volume. 

It wasn't like he was excited to get away from this conversation or anything. No, not at all. They had a job to do, and a world that needed saving…yeah that was it.

"Did you get the last piece?" He cracked, standing up and running over to the teen, his brother in tow.

"Yep!" Akari answered, holding up her prize, which was some kind of claw. "So this is the last piece we need." She smiled as she put the claw into her satchel. "Now we can form the Red Chain and close the rift and everything can go back to normal.

how a plume, a fang and a claw were going to form a chain that was capable of closing the rift was beyond Ingo. But he wasn't about to question it if it worked.

"Now, all we have to do is head to the Shrouded Ruins in the Mirelands."

Ingo nearly jumped out of his skin as the merchant spoke up. He had completely forgotten Volo was with them.

"Then let's hurry." Akari nodded, jogging towards the exit, with Irida and Volo in tow.

Ingo had just been about to follow them, recalling Lampent back into her ball, when Emmet suddenly punched him hard in the shoulder.

"Ow! Emmet?!"

"That was for elbowing me in the ribs." Emmet shot back with a frown causing the two to look indistinguishable from each other briefly. "That really hurt, Ingo!"

"I know, I know. I panicked!" Ingo replied, rubbing his sore arm. "But we shouldn't talk about stuff from home with people here."

"Why not?"

"Cause…um…" He didn't know how far the others were or how far his voice might travel through the tunnel. "Remember that thing I mentioned back at Lake Verity? When we were looking for the entrance to the cave."

His brother hummed, bringing a finger to his chin as he tilted his head in thought. "The only thing you told me was…you figured out where we really are, yep, but you wouldn't say any more. You said you'd tell me later."

Oh, right… 

Guess he forgot to tell Emmet…

He’d been so worried about other stuff that he had completely brushed it off.

Passing out at the first Lake probably didn’t help matters either.

“So is it later?” Emmet asked, giving him an expectant look.

“Y-yeah… ah…” Ingo paused trying to get his words together. “ I think…Okay…maybe it’s still just…um…a theory…but I think…we’re in…Sinnoh?”

“What?!”

“I mean it.” Ingo pushed, starting to pace back and forth. “Think about it, Emmet. Lake Verity,Lake Valor, and Lake Acuity. The Lake Guardians, Mesprit, Azelf, and Unxie.Mt Coronet!” he rounds on his brother. “What other region do you know of that has all of that!”

Emmet was slightly taken aback by this, his eyes darting back and forth from his twin to the interior of the cave. “But Sinnoh has cities, maybe not as many as Unova. They have Gyms and a Pokemon League. Hisui does not.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s true…But…” Dragons, his brother is probably going to think he’s going insane. “A-and, please, just trust me on this, but I think Hisui might be some kind of ancient version of Sinn-”

“Hey! What are you kids talking about?!” 

Ingo’s jaw snapped shut quickly, making him wince as he felt his teeth click together, and Emmet swung around in surprise only to see the merchant walking towards them.

Was there no privacy in this cave?

"I was just telling Emmet, that they would probably hear me down in the Pearl clan settlement if I screamed right now." Ingo replied quickly, forcing himself to meet Volo's eye, as he moved closer to his twin. "Wanna find out if I'm right?"

Ingo held the merchant's gaze for as long as he could, thankful for once that his face wasn't as expressive as his brother’s.

He was fine.

 He and his brother were safe. 

Volo couldn't hurt them. 

Lady Irida and Akari were just outside of the cave, all he had to do was scream and they would come running.

To Ingo's surprise Volo was the first one to look away, closing his eyes and giving a little shrug and a smile Ingo almost thought looked genuine.

 "If your vocal range is as loud as Akari says it is, then I think they'd probably hear you all the way in Jubilife village." Merchant laughed, throwing the boy off by how casual it came off. "But maybe we can test that later." He turned away, motioning for the twins to follow him. "Common, Akari's waiting on you two."

Ingo could feel his brother shift uncomfortably behind him, as he kept his eyes locked on the merchant's back. Trying to figure out what it was Volo had planned.

“You two coming?” Volo paused in his step when the twins didn’t immediately start to follow him. 

His fingers tighten around Lampent's pokeball. 

The last thing Ingo wanted to do was to follow Volo anywhere. 

In fact he would have preferred if the Merchant just left him and his brother alone so he could continue talking to his brother in private.

But…Volo had a point.

Akari was waiting for them.

Besides, Ingo wasn't fond of being trapped in a dead-end cave with only one exit. It didn't turn out so well for them last time. even if Volo did leave them alone, that strange pokemon from before could be lurking anywhere.

So, he carefully took his brother’s hand and hurried towards the exit with Volo.

"There you two are." Akari greeted them as they finally exited the cave. "I was starting to think another space-time rift took you away."

"Nope. Still here." Emmet stated, rushing forward toward the teen, dragging his brother behind him as he put some more distance between them and Volo.

"So, we're heading to the Shrouded Ruins to forge the Red Chain." Volo stepped forward with a smile. "That will be quite the trip back to the Mirelands." He glanced towards the twins before turning his attention to Lady Irida. "I assume you and the twins will be taking Gyarados once more."

Almost without thinking, Ingo reached for Gyarados's pokeball, barely noticing how white lady Irida got.

“No!”

Ingo nearly dropped his pokeball, as all eyes suddenly turned to Irida after that outburst.

"I mean" She coughed into her hand trying to compose herself once more. "The journey to the Icelands was no doubt quite long and tiresome. I would hate to impose once more on one of Almighty Sinnoh's… mighty… children, once more before they have had a proper rest." She explained, head held high in an attempt not to look anyone in the eye. "Akari, would you mind summoning both Lord Wyrdeer and Lord Ursaluna."

"Sure, but what's your idea Lady Irida?" Akari asked.

"Well, since one of the twins will eventually be trained to take their father’s place as Warden." Irida reached behind her back and pulled out the flute she had kept tied in her bow. "What better time to start that training than now." She smiled and held the flute out towards the two brothers.

—

The sound of distant flute playing flowed on the wind, causing Lady Sneasler’s to halt her step and look over towards her Warden.

That call, she knew it well…

It was the summoning tune the Wardens and Akari used to call on the nobles. And though it had not been directed at her, it still got her attention.

That sound, and the heart it belonged to, she knew it well.

It belonged to her Warden, who was only a few feet from her, crouched low in the bushes as he watched two Galaxy team grunts set up camp.

It sound was wobbly, and slightly off key, and nowhere near are loud, sounding alot like it had when Ingo had first started as Warden. 

But it was undoubtedly his call.

Slowly she walked over to him, and gave him a small nudge with her claw. She was almost positive that it was truly her Warden, his small was correct, but she just wanted to make sure. 

It would not be the first time that young Emmet’s Zoroark tried to pull the wool over her eyes.

“My Lady, please” Her Warden whispered, pushing her claw away gently, his eyes lingering on the grunts before looking up at her. “We must tread carefully, or risk being caught.”

So, she was correct. Her Warden was right here.

Then why was she hearing his call somewhere out towards the icelands?

She listened once more, trying to see if she could hear the call once more, but sadly all she could hear was the sounds coming from the rift. Maybe the call had come from the rift to begin with?

Suddenly her Warden ducked lower into the bushes, and the horrible sound of clanking metal could be heard approaching the camp.

Sneasler quickly ducked down next to her Warden, her eyes narrowing as she saw a tall human adorned in metal plates walking towards the camp. His human face fur and stern look reminded her slightly of an Abomasnow.

“Commander!” a pair of grunts called as they ran towards the man. 

“We have secured the campgrounds as well as the path to the tunnel leading to the summit.” 

“Beni is currently setting up supplies further up in cave”

“Good,” the human in metal nodded. “Once everyone is ready, we’ll will being our final push towards the summit.”

“Right!” one of the grunts brought a hand to their forehead before quickly removing it and running off. 

But the other remained behind.

“Is there something else you wish to add?” the armored human, the commander questioned turning his gaze towards the remaining human in red.

“Y-yes sir.” the human seemed to wither under his gaze a bit. “The-the Diamond clan Warden has been poking around the base camp, demanding to know what we are doing.” he paused. “It has been very distracting, as he will not take our rejections as a proper answer. And a few of us even got lost and attacked in Wayward Cave after he removed all the torches.”

“It would seem Melli has done his part to delay the Galaxy team’s departure.” Ingo whispered, keeping his voice as low as possible as he spoke. “Though I must remember to get the boys to replace those torches once this is all said and done.”

The Commander was quiet for a moment, his eyes closed as he let out a low hum. “Inform Warden Melli that if this continues then we will remove him if necessary.” The Commander continued passed human in red, his hand resting on his strange human weapon. “Let us hope it does not come to that, but we can apologize to Lord Adaman once we have taken care of the threat trying to push its way through the rift.”

“Looks like Warden Melli has worn out his welcome.” Sneasler looked towards her Warden as he slowly started to back away from the bushes, still keeping as low as he could. “Let us try and find him, before the Commander’s Men do.”

“Snee.”

[thetaleofalicenmaryann]

Prologue

Between the many noises one could hear when going through the school corridors, one of the most pleasant ones would be the one coming from the choir class. You would have to pay close attention to hear it yourself, since the class had somewhat soundproof walls – but once you'd hear it, you'd be charmed by the angelic sound of the choir. That is, until the teacher stops the choir once again to correct her students.

“Miss Chung,” the teacher asks once the class went silent, “Could you please sing from the chorus onward?”

“Of course!”

The girl in the front row of the class clears her throat before singing once more.

It didn’t really matter whether the class was about to be scolded by the teacher, who was using Lan-chu as an example of what the other students should strive for, if that meant that they could hear her angelic voice. It was normal for teachers to use Lan-chu as an example in almost every class that she would take part in – and not for less, she is an outstanding student, scoring the highest when compared with both her juniors and seniors. And that means a lot, especially when you are enrolled in such a high prestige school such as Abigail Doudeauville Academy.

But none of that really mattered. Not to Lan-chu, who, while admittedly liked the prize she received when scoring high on her classes, didn’t really care about what those mean overall. What she loved the most about ADA wasn’t the prestige or the status that the school granted her, no. The best thing about this school was the fact that her friends were studying there with her, and that she could be with them every day, almost all the time! From morning to evening to night right before she goes to sleep, her friends would be right there with her; is there anything else she could ask for?

The only class that she wouldn’t share with any of her friends was the choir class. But that didn’t bother her much, because by the end of it she could spend the rest of the day with her beloved friends. And the moment the bell rang announcing the end of the class, the first thing Lan-chu did was to quickly make her way to the school’s garden, where her group of friends would usually meet.

From afar she could already see two of her friends talking to each other, while probably waiting for the others to arrive.

“Shizuku, Kasumi! 哈囉 (Hello)!” She’d say, in her very usual excited tone, once she got close enough so they could hear.

Both of them seemingly got surprised to see her there, as far as she could tell from their expressions, almost as if they didn’t expect to get caught talking. But Shizuku’s gentle smile soon wiped away any trace of tension from her face.

“Ah, Hello, Lan-chu-san! You came early today.” Lan-chu felt a sense of pride after hearing that, somehow. “I thought that after last week your choir classes would take longer.”

“And keep you waiting here again? No way! We have to make the most of our time!”

“We will have to wait for the rest of them anyways, you didn't have to run all the way here…” Kasumi said, annoyed.

“But then, I would have less time to say how cute you are!” Hugging Kasumi almost immediately, the girl who usually likes to be called cute could now be found screaming in the hands of Lan-chu, who didn't seem to have any intention of releasing her any time soon. Shizuku, on her part, couldn't help but laugh at the sight.

Thankfully today, their group of friends managed to get together earlier. They would meet each other at the school’s garden and then run their errands together, as they did every day. The only thing that changed was the amount of errands or time that they’d spend doing it; Tuesdays and Fridays where days were that they’d mostly spend their time after class doing their laundry – mostly because some of them were too lazy to wash their own clothes –, Mondays were days reserved for studying, even though most of the time they spent more time talking than actually studying. On Wednesdays, most of the girls reserved the afternoon to take care of extracurricular activities, and on Thursdays they would spend part of the afternoon tidying up their individual dormitories – as would most of the students, considering all of them were living there – leaving only the weekends for them to have the afternoon completely free.

Their schedules were not necessarily packed to the point of making them extremely busy; Even the most studious of the group made sure to spare at least a few hours of day to hang out with them. But it was a schedule that they followed every week with little to no room for change, mostly because it worked better for the whole group. But, honestly, to Lan-chu, the schedule or the consistency of it didn’t really matter – she’d go and climb mountains far away or even skip classes if her friends suggested so. Thankfully, none of them had any of these as their plans.

“Lan-chu, have you been paying attention?” Shioriko's voice would make Lan-chu wake up from her daydreams, who probably got caught playing with the pencil in her hand. The whole group looked at Lan-chu. They were all sharing a big table in one of the many rooms that the school would provide for group studies.

“U-Uh… 梗係 (Of course)!”

“Then, what was I talking about?”

“Uh……” Her eyes wandered around the class, trying to find any clues, until they laid on the book that Shioriko was holding. “You were explaining trigonometry!”

“No. It's been well more than half an hour since I stopped explaining trigonometry and started correcting the exercises.” The girl said, irritated. “Now, as I was saying, in exercise 13; In the right triangle illustrated below, knowing that its sides are measured in meters, the value of the…”

“The cosine of angle ɑ is the adjacent leg, which measures 25 meters. Divided by the hypotenuse, which measures 26 meters, which makes the value of the cosine of angle ɑ 0.96 meters, with the correct answer being letter D!” Lan-chu promptly answers before Shioriko could finish reading the question. “I’ve already finished doing this exercise… And the other 20 ones from this page as well!”

While some of the girls could be seen taking notes of Lan-chu’s explanations, such as Karin and Ayumu, Shioriko couldn’t help but sigh.

“If you already know the subject, I would rather you help the other girls with it than getting distracted playing with your pencil.”

“Ok, ok!”

Lan-chu got up from her chair without hesitation, and got as fast as possible to her friends’ seats, helping them as best as she could. Her first stop was behind Karin’s chair, hugging her from behind without any previous warning.

“How may I help you?” She asked, playfully.

“Th-There’s no need to help me, Lan-chu.” The older girl said, quickly hiding her notes, or as best as she could hide them, given there were so many, while trying to regain her composure. “Your… seniors can study on their own, yeah?”

“I think that I need help on exercise 15, Lan-chu-chan…” Ayumu would say, looking at her papers with a confused face. By return, Lan-chu would go to her chair and help her, and later all the other girls who requested her help, between conversations that Lan-chu tried to start with them, which didn't have much to do with the exercises or trigonometry in general. Needless to say, Shioriko scolded her a lot that evening.

Although most of the students don’t go to sleep at that time, the dorms can be pretty busy in the early night. Most of the doors can be found open, the corridors almost crowded as the sound of incessant footsteps, chatter and laughter fills the air at that time. It may feel overwhelming at first, but Lan-chu found some sort of comfort in it; it meant that that place was lively, and she liked lively places.

The dorms were separated into three buildings, one for each high school year, and inside it you could find hundreds of small, yet comfortable, rooms in it, one for each student. While on the ground floor, the plan was divided between a few bedrooms and the shared bathroom on the floor, while the other two floors above consisted only of rooms and corridors, and was where most of the noise came from.

Because some of her friends were also in the same year of high school as her, Lan-chu would also be a part of the noise, as she and four of her friends would stand in the corridor talking, making as much noise as everyone else in that building. Honestly, it would be hypocritical of her part if she were to complain about the noise, really.

Normally, she would spend longer in the corridor – or in one of her friends’ rooms if she were invited to, but today her time was somewhat cut short. One of the students that lived in the dorm and was in charge of delivering the mail to the other residents, handed a single letter to Lan-chu. The envelope was of a light pink shade, and smelled like a floral perfume, one that only few people could be able to afford. Looking at the back of the envelope, and seeing the almost perfect calligraphy on it, Lan-chu already knew exactly who this letter was from.

She smiled to herself.

“I’m going to my dorm.”

“Already, Lan-chu-san?” Nana would say a little worried. Normally Lan-chu would be the last one to leave out of all of them. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, just family stuff.” She would show the letter she received to her friends and that alone was enough for them to understand. “Just tell me everything about it tomorrow, ok?”

“We are probably not doing much other than sleeping, Lan-chu!” Ai would laugh a little with the request, saying in a playful tone, “I could tell what I did in my dreams, though~”

“That would be perfect, actually!” Even though Ai was only half joking, Lan-chu was looking forward to it. “I will get going now! 晚安 (Good night)!”

“Good night, Lan-chu!”

Lan-chu’s room was on the second floor, she'd know as she had the privilege of choosing it herself; It was just as small as any other room in the building, though, but this did not make her like it any less. It had just enough space for her bed, a dresser wardrobe and a desk, and thankfully those were the only furniture that she brought to the academy, as she had very different plans at first. But it’s ok, she already thought of that dorm as home.

She puts the letter on the desk before sitting, opening the envelope carefully, and unfolding the letter to be able to read the words that her mother had decided to write her.

[親愛的嵐珠 (Dear Lan-chu),

I hope this letter finds you in the best of spirits, as now it’s time for your mother’s monthly letter!]

Lan-chu couldn’t help but giggle a little at what her mother wrote; She could almost hear her mother just by reading the letter.

[Before anything else, I want to say that I finally managed to bake that strawberry cake without burning it. I bet that ever since I commented with you, you already tried baking for yourself – And I bet it turned out perfect in the first try, didn't it?] It really didn’t, but that didn’t stop Lan-chu from trying it again. [Next time you come here, I will bake one for you, and I hope I don’t disappoint you with my skills!

If I recall correctly, exam week is coming soon, isn’t it? Have you been studying? Well, why am I asking this, even without studying you would have one of the highest notes, am I wrong?] A little bit, actually.

[I hope you make the best out of ADA this year, making as many nice memories as you can so you may never miss it, because my job is taking us back to Hong Kong by the end of this year!] What. [I can’t believe that we are finally coming back… We will get to live back in our hometown, also!] What. [It was very lucky to get to buy a house there, but it’s going to be worth it. I missed it so much, you wouldn't even know it—] What.

What.

What.

Lan-chu didn’t read the letter, or better yet, she didn’t want to finish it. Her eyes made their way through all the words in the letter trying to find something, anything that could tell that that letter was nothing more than a prank, a little joke that her mother would decide to do with her. Something harmless.

But unfortunately, she didn’t find any of it. Just words upon words of her mother's excitement and plans for the next year— the next years, even; The school she would finish high school, the many options of university she could have there, how they would live closer to their relatives – everything was somewhat planned out, and Lan-chu have only known of it now.

She started walking around the small place in her room. None of this could be happening. She didn’t want any of this to happen. She wanted to finish high school with her friends, go to the same college as them and probably live together with them as long as she could. If they want to move to Hong Kong, then that would be it! But she didn’t want to lose them. She can’t lose them.

Her vision starts to get blurry. No, she can’t let any of this happen – She has to do something.

She sits down again, rapidly wiping her tears before grabbing a piece of paper and writing on it. Writing as fast as her thoughts, anything would be worth the shot if it was remotely possible to change her mother’s mind. She wouldn’t let this happen, she couldn’t.

That would be the first time Lan-chu would throw away her first attempt at something. The second, the third and the forth as well, and many others more as the pieces of paper would soon take most part of the floor.

The next day wasn’t easy for her. Even though the first thing she did in the morning was to send her letter as soon as possible, her mother’s words wouldn’t leave her head so easily.

A mix of frustration and distress would take over her thoughts for the rest of the day. How could she make this big of a decision without asking me? It would be the main thing she would be thinking of.

“Lan-chu, are you ok?” Ayumu would whisper, making her come back to the present. “Your legs have been shaking all morning, did something happen?”

“I’m just thinking, 無問題 (don't worry)” would be the only response she would give to anyone who asked that day. They could be worried about her now, but it was better not to spread the news as she was still very much convinced she could take care of it. Everything would be back to normal as soon as possible and they wouldn’t even notice. It would be fine.

The day would go as normal, classes, lunch break, extracurricular classes, and then they would meet each other at the garden as always. It was fine. It was normal. It wouldn’t change, right?

“Lan-chu.” A hand reached her shoulder as soon as the soft voice reached her ears. She wouldn’t be surprised to see it was Shioriko, who stopped her in the middle of the corridor between the classes.

“Shioriko? What happened?”

“The others must have commented with you, but I couldn’t help but take notice of this as well.” Shioriko’s posture was serious as always, but you could notice her concern for her tone. “You are not very well today, are you?”

“I feel very healthy myself, you know…”

“You very well know that this is not what I meant.” Shioriko would know Lan-chu better than any other person from the group, she knew Lan-chu her whole life, after all. “Care to share?”

“I-It’s nothing, really! I’ve already dealt with it, it’s just that…”

“You’re still dealing with the feelings of the situation?”

“Yeah…” She wouldn’t know Lan-chu well enough to know when she was telling half lies, though. “Short of…”

“If you wish to, you could take a walk to clear your mind.” Shioriko would suggest, “You can come back after you are feeling better, we will understand.”

She didn’t want to, really. Actually she wanted to spend as much time as possible with her friends, especially after the threat of all these moments slipping through her fingers at any moment. She didn’t want to lose it, any of it; and yet…

“Ok… I will try to…”

“Just don’t venture off campus. The newspaper talked about a group of students who ended up disappearing yesterday, I wouldn’t wish any of that happening to you.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“I hope you get to relax a little.” Shioriko’s expression turns into a soft smile. 

“Thank you…”

For the first time since she has been at this school, she makes the opposite way to the garden.

She didn’t really know exactly where to wander off to. Normally, she would follow her friends around and do the things she would have to do throughout the day. But it seemed that the normal things were slowly starting to change – changing to a new “normal” she definitely didn’t look forward to.

She did all she could, and if she needs to do more then she will! But right now, it seemed like the only thing she could do was wait. And she hate it.

When she looked around, she found herself pretty much alone, saved for a few students that would walk in and out of some buildings. All of them so far from her.

She leaned against a tree and sat on the floor, hugging her knees. What would she do if she couldn’t change her mother’s mind? How would she tell her friends? Would she be gone forever? Would this life so dear of her never come back? What would she do, then? Would she be able to move on knowing what she’s losing? Her eyes were slowly getting wet again, and this time it didn’t seem to matter how much she was trying to hold the tears back.

“I can help you.” A voice, one that she has never heard before calls her, making her look up to a girl she never spoke to.

When you’re desperate, you cling to anything that appears in your way.

[bruhstories]

Vogel und Jäger

Summary: You accidentally witness a murder, but the murderer takes pity on you. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (mafia AU) Warnings & Content: murder, language, angst Word Count: 1.7 k

A/N: i've been dying for a mafia au with zeke so here's part one of the series Vogel und Jäger. i have two more chapters drafted, and i'll try to post for this series weekly so i can write some moooore for it.

Bang!

The blood-curling sound was familiar to your ears. A gunshot — followed by the gurgling of a man.

Bang!

Another shot and the gurgling stopped. Panic settled in your heart, making you jump back and knock the metallic bin which served as a shield against the perpetrators.

Shit.

Footsteps drew closer and you began to pray. Running was futile. Running was always futile. Your throat was dry, your mascara was smeared all over your cheeks from all the tears, lips chapped and bleeding.

Our Father, who art in Heaven...

The cold muzzle of the gun pressed onto your forehead and you shivered, breath hitching, eyes glued to the wet pavement.

Hollowed be thy name...

The Mafia never spared any witnesses, you knew that all too well, even if you happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Thy Kingdom come...

"Hey, boss, we got a girl."

"Kill her."

"No, please!" You threw yourself at the feet and mercy of the armed man. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! Please, I'm only nineteen!" Through the sobs, your voice was still melodious, syrupy. So sweet that the boss stopped in his tracks.

Thy will be done...

Another pair of footsteps approached, tentatively, not as eager as the first person. You still haven't looked up, too scared to even blink, to even breathe.

On earth, as it is in Heaven...

"Hand me the gun, Yelena."

"As you wish, boss."

You felt someone crouch down next to you, someone dressed in expensive clothing, by the look of the trousers and polished shoes.

Give us this day our daily bread...

"You've got a very pretty voice." He lifted your chin up with the barrel of the gun, chills running down your spine.

"T-thank y-you..."

"Can you sing, little bird?"

"Y-yes."

And forgive us our trespasses...

Finally, you looked at the perpetrator — spellbinding grey eyes, platinum blonde hair slicked back and a matching goatee. His gaze was either boring or pitiful.

"Lucky you, we're hiring."

As we forgive those who trespass against us...

Anxiety coiled in your stomach, words caught up in your throat. You were still praying, unaware if this was all a sadistic joke or a miracle.

And lead us not into temptation...

Dark lashes fluttered, more tears streaming down your beautiful face as the gears in your head turned in a desperate attempt to understand what was happening.

But deliver us from evil...

"Hiring?" Your voice went up an octave when you saw the small stag pinned to the man's chest. The Jaeger family — the most feared mafia family in Paradis City.

For thine is the kingdom...

"A pretty voice like yours shouldn't go to waste." He got up and offered you his hand.

And the power, and the glory...

Reluctantly, you took it, helping yourself up and chewing your lower lip.

For ever and ever...

"T-thank you!" You told him, slender fingers squeezing his hand tightly. "I owe you m-my life."

Amen.

"Correct. Your life, your soul, your eyes and ears." He walked you to a car and opened the door for you. "Yelena, take us to the club. We've got business to discuss with my little brother."

•°.•°.•°.•°

Your eyes wandered all over the soundproof office, situated one floor above and opposite the stage. Every inch of the bar, the seating areas, everything was visible from that room. You tapped a finger on the wide window, eyes narrowed at the idea that it might, in fact, be bulletproof. These men were not playing, and you were now their property. The door opened and you jolted at the sound of music filling the office as your saviour walked in with two other people.

"This is my younger brother, Eren. You already know Yelena. I assume you know my name."

You nodded.

"Zeke Jaeger."

"Good girl." Zeke was pleased with your answer as he poured himself a glass of bourbon.

"I thought we didn't spare any witnesses." Eren shot you a look that made you regret being alive.

"Settle down, little brother. Tell us your name."

"Y/N, sir. Y/N Y/L/N." You swallowed, fingers fiddling with the hem of your blouse in an attempt to calm your nerves.

"You see, Eren, Y/N can sing." Zeke opened a drawer and pulled a gun out. More guns, more panic. Your eyes widened and your plump lips quivered when he aimed the gun at you with one hand, glass of alcohol in the other. "Sing or I paint the walls with your brains."

Your legs almost gave in at the threat — you knew it wasn't an empty one, and with all the courage you could muster, you closed your eyes and sang the first song that came to your mind, fucking Kiss from a Rose.

Your voice seemed to coat the people with honey, all three of them somewhat relaxing at the sweet sounds coming from your vocal cords.

"See, I told you she can sing." Zeke put the gun back in the drawer and closed it, swirling the bourbon in his glass before finishing it.

"Where do you live?" Eren crossed his arms, still suspicious of you.

"Historia's." You told him, eyes drifting to the ugly fur rug on the floor.

"The orphanage?"

"Yes."

"But you said you're nineteen." Zeke intervened, a brow quirked at you.

"I am. I try to help as much as possible in exchange for a bed and a roof over my head." You explained, eyeing the white couch that looked so incredibly comfortable.

"Just sit down already." Eren scoffed and you rushed to the furniture, mumbling thank you’s over and over.

"And why were you on that street tonight?" Yelena spoke for the first time since you came to the club. You looked at her and she seemed just as suspicious about you as Eren.

"I... the man you k-killed... he was... I'm-"

"A prostitute." Zeke nonchalantly interrupted you.

It was true. People like you, orphans, didn't have the privilege of being properly educated and finding well-paid jobs. Paradis was a jungle, and you did everything you could to survive. Everything.

"Well on the bright side you don't have to do that anymore." Zeke shrugged as he sunk deeper in his chair, feet on the desk, but you sensed he wasn't entirely honest. "You do have a beautiful voice, and our last girl had some... business to attend to, so you'll be taking her place."

"Is this why you called me here?" Eren sighed, leg impatiently shaking.

"Don't be stupid, of course not. I need Armin to prepare this month's tax reports and I need you to keep an eye on the police. They're sticking their nose in our business again, and I want them out of it. You two can go. Y/N, you stay." Zeke waved his hand and Eren and Yelena left, music briefly filling the office again.

You twiddled with the cushion in your lap, waiting for your new boss to say something. Being in that room was nerve-wracking, and you felt the air grow thick. Eventually Zeke took off his glasses, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose as he sighed.

"Sir?" You dared, voice feeble and frail.

"What?" He clicked his tongue and you instantly regretted speaking.

"Sir, I'm not educated, but I've been on the streets long enough to know that every man or woman has a purpose..." You placed the cushion back. "...and a price. What's my purpose? I doubt it's only to sing."

Zeke nodded, fingers tracing the wooden desk.

"You're right, it isn't just to sing. It's to distract."

"Distract who? And from what?"

"You're asking an awful lot of questions for someone who's just witnessed a murder. You best not go to the police." He narrowed his eyes, piercing your soul. You sighed and walked to the desk, taking a seat opposite Zeke.

"It's not... my first murder." You confessed to him.

"Oh? My dear, you're full of surprises. Pray, tell. Drink?"

"Yes please." You answered, throat dry as a desert. "I can't go to the police. And even if I could, I wouldn't." The drink earned a disgusted look from you, but it was better than nothing. "Two years ago, I ended someone's life. He deserved it, he broke into Miss Historia's orphanage and tried to... to..."

"I understand." Zeke stopped you. "And if you go to the police, they'd do a background check on you." He continued, satisfied that he had a leverage in case you decided to turn against him.

"Exactly. And Historia helped me so much, I wouldn't want to put her in danger. So, I'm asking again, distract who from what?"

Zeke walked to the window, telling you to follow him. He pointed at two men, a tall blond one, and a short brunette one.

"See those two? They're policemen. They work for us, but we suspect they're double agents." He explained before pointing at three other men. "Those we suspect of being Marleyan mobsters. You see, Y/N, we have a lot of enemies. And we must keep our guard up every second of our lives."

You nodded, perfectly understanding Zeke's words. Paradis was a chess board and only the filthy rich played — the rest of you were pawns.

"Sir, you spared my life, and I know I can't ask for anything in return. But please, please don't drag Miss Historia into this. The children there did nothing wrong." Tears pooled at your eyes, rolling down your cheeks and you wiped them with the back of your hand. "I swear my loyalty to you."

"For someone uneducated, you're extremely clever." Zeke's voice was serious. You half-smiled at the compliment, but you knew the mess you got yourself into cut your lifespan severely. "Can you shoot?"

"No, sir."

"It's alright, Mikasa will teach you. Sleep on the couch tonight, I'll have Yelena bring you a blanket. Tomorrow you'll swear an oath in front of the family. And if you want to protect Historia, you'll move out of the orphanage."

You nodded. You understood that mingling with the mafia endangered everyone you loved, but you couldn't stop yourself from crying the entire night. Historia was but a few months older than you, yet she gladly took you in when she invested in that orphanage. Now you had to leave everything behind for her safety — and yours.

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

previously on...

Chapter 1! Reader's job has no chill and Wanda means well (Tony does too), but, as we know, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Reader discovers the source of some peculiar things and can't help but be overcome with curiosity. F-bombs galore!

Fun fact: this story's main soundtrack is Claire de Lune, for some reason. Usually I can't stand classical music.

I didn't anticipate my first day at the bodega to be remarkful in any way but I was quickly proven wrong. My expectations were low: few customers, some of them flat-earthers of the garden variety, perhaps one or two of those 'witches' from social media blogging platforms and an overzealous Satanist or two, since I was pretty sure I saw an Ouija board and a silver pentagram hanging in Odette's office on the day of the interview.

Boy was I wrong.

We averaged a customer every fifteen minutes with each person requesting increasingly strange items: healing quartz and sage were on the closer end of normal; I felt like I had teleported to Hogwarts and was now attending Professor Snape's Advanced Potions class, having to race between the high shelves and memorize the exact location of each and every ingredient. In the end, I sacrificed a few dollars and bought one of the beautiful, leather-bound notebooks off Odette to write down the shelf and position number for the most commonly requested items and planned to begin memorizing them at home.

There's a little bit of Ravenclaw in all of us, I supposed. My curiosity only extended further: sometimes, a haggard looking person would come up and declare they had an appointment with Odette and was quickly whisked away by my boss to her office, coming out looking slightly less haggard in about half an hour or so.

I adapted to the routine fairly quickly, choosing to make my personal peace with the strange customers and Odette's mysterious meetings: after all, I got the job because I needed money - who was I to judge her for doing Tarot readings and spiritual séances for an extra dollar?

The bodega's atmosphere did grow on me rather quickly, as I had thought it would. It was warm and homely even on the rainiest afternoons, there was an unlimited supply of herbal tea, free of charge, and I grew to appreciate it just like I learned to find the positives in my job at the café. That remained a constant, mildly interesting affair too - my regulars, especially the superheroes, had started coming in during the morning hours and we were able to resume our chit-chats without a hitch.

Wanda still fished for my most recent, memorable reading and Dr. Banner left his incomprehensible scribbles on every napkin within an arm's reach for me to return to him on his next visit. The fully grown man with multiple PhDs didn't fail to blush like a schoolgirl every single time it happened, causing Mr. Stark to double on his own salacious jokes, should the engineer have had come with. They often came together, blabbering things I couldn't even fathom understanding even with the help of Google.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Wanda sounded surprisingly chipper for it was freaking seven in the morning.

I blanched, banging my arm against the display door painfully with a softly muttered, "Fuck!".

The witch frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I muttered, hoping my face wasn't portraying the mixture of confusion and fear that I felt. "Something weird happened at my other job yesterday, I'm still processing," I replied honestly, looking to the side.

In fairness, I didn't know what to think. The situation wasn't something that should have shocked me, with aliens and magic people an abundance in NYC, but seeing it with my own two eyes had been jarring.

A limping, paranoid young man had arrived for an appointment with Odette shortly before closing time; I had escorted him to her office without as much as a blink, only noticing he was dripping oddly colored blood when the door behind him had closed. I cleaned it up, dead set on confronting Odette about the obviously injured person - the blood, it was more of an attempt to clean it, since it merely stuck to the rag, refusing to wash off it with water or any of the organic cleaning solutions kept under the sink.

I had to leave the rag in a paper bag, acutely aware of the fact it could not have belonged to a normal person. My best guess was that a man was a mutant - NYC had plenty of them living behind a blue wall. Odette's office wasn't soundproof: I heard a pained yelp and then a vocalisation of relief as whatever was causing the man to bleed had been removed. In a few minutes while I was closing the cash register, he came out looking almost brand new - and as I paid him a more careful look, he was missing his scleras, leaving his eyes to look slightly terrifying.

And then he winked at me, a surprisingly human, boyish gesture - the smile that crawled up my face was purely automatic. I was sure it looked frozen. He disappeared without a word as Odette herself emerged from the backrooms, a tired sheen to her brow.

"Did you manage to clean up?" She asked, eyebrows raised at the lack of stains on the hardwood floors.

"It stuck to the rag," I replied, eyeing her warily. "The rag is in the unmarked bag next to the sink. I didn't know what else to do with it."

"Sometimes it does that," her sigh was very telling. This was to be expected to become a regular occurrence. She motioned for the notebook I got to keep track of everything in the store, rattling off a recipe for a cleaner and solvent combo, made purely from the items she had inside the store, giving me stern instructions to add the ingredients in the exact order I was told. I sighed but added the footnote. Odette was a far cry from the greasy git from Hogwarts so she deserved the benefit of the doubt at least.

I didn't dare to ask any more questions about the strange man; not that day, not after I had suprised Wanda with a quick recap of my story. It's not like I had anything against mutants - as long as they were peaceful and didn't harm humans with their abilities, I was content to co-habit, share my space and even be friends with them. A very nice old lady who came by three times a week had gills peeking out of the top of her turtleneck and she was just the most polite, sweetest thing.

Wanda's curiosity was understandable and not suspicious in any way: I was under the impression she was a mutant, too, along with her twin brother - so the feeling of dread that blossomed within me as soon as the two suited figures entered the small store I attributed to the larger size of the man and vulture eyes of the woman. They both appeared extremely out of place with their black two-pieces and badly hidden pistol holsters, topped off with badges I couldn't take a good look at without losing my customer service facade.

I decided to play it dumb, self-conscious of the thudding of my heart in my ribcage. My body screamed 'danger' at me. "Hello, how can I help you?"

The woman cast an observant look over me, my plain clothes, lingering on my star-patterned scarf and matching hair band. "Are you the owner of this store?"

"No," I frowned, not liking where this was going. "Do you have an appointment with Odette?"

"We'd like to see her," the man pointedly moved his arm, exposing the gun and the badge.

I dropped the nice act, staring him down in earnest. I never liked self-righteous, pushy government officials; even less so, when they didn't follow protocol and started the conversation with demands instead of proper introductions. As I shot a quick text to Odette, noting that there were 'strange people in uniform' looking for her, my suspicions were only confirmed when the woman looked around the store with eyes that knew what they were looking for. Those two definitely weren't cops or even feds, they were straight up shady.

Odette all but flew to the bodega, the imposing, suffocating aura I'd seen only once on full display. It was hard to breathe standing so close to her; with muted satisfaction, I noticed both agents squirm, their fingers twitching, as they took in shuddering inhales through their, undoubtedly, lying mouths.

The whole spectacle was over quickly. I had managed to serve and quickly usher out Ike, one of the Satanists (yes, we did, in fact, have a few of those as regulars) with his paper bag full of powdered goat horn and a fresh cat skull under his armpit before the curtains parted and the two agents left without saying a word. I thought their eyes looked - wrong, like glass marbles, dull, lifeless and unseeing.

Odette dismissed my worries with a frivolously waved hand: "They won't be bothering us anytime soon," closing the door to her office - it reeked of strong incense and horseradish, for some reason. Like she'd been making some hell salad in front of the two nosy officials.

I took a deep breath in and then a deep breath out. The weirdness should've bothered me more, I knew, but I couldn't bring myself to decide whether I wanted to know what that interaction was actually about or live in blissful ignorance, where my boss might be some sort of a mutant or an actual witch that helps other mutants.

The longer I thought about it, the louder anti-mutant propaganda articles screamed at me: children being killed or abandoned because one day, they woke up and could fly or move things with their mind; every potential situation could end up like Carrie or Brightburn - two movies so blatantly obvious in their point to instill fear against children that could grow to work alongside Earth's Mightiest Defenders.

Needless to say, my conscious calmed down pretty quickly. I had felt the hairs on my nape stand up as soon as the agents entered the room and in my experience, a reaction like that was never good. I had been taught to trust my gut.

Odette had cancelled her visits for the day, holing up in her office as the whole store rapidly filled up with the stench of horseradish, old blood and sage. The occasional noise came from the office, interrupted by mumbling, and I was quickly told to just turn up the old, vintage radio if it bothered me.

I was too busy taking in the contents of her office - the table that previously stood in the far end of it, stood in the middle, folded out into the shape of a circle. Something was drawn on it, something the color of dried blood, and there were light candles, white and blue, littered on almost every possible surface. The air was clouded with incense smoke, so thick, it made my eyes water.

Odette's grin was sardonic as she met my eyes, wide and shocked, that had previously landed on what looked like a pot- or a cauldron, emanating the strongest bitter stench that wafted even through the lead curtain of incense. No wonder the whole store reeked.

Before she gently shut the door in my face, I caught the centerfold of the whole show - an extremely large, tattered, leatherbound tome with yellowed pages and a heavy metal padlock laying next to it. Overcome by stupor, I didn't manage to make out the intricate silver letters on its cover.

Needless to say, walking home that day was an adventure. In part, I was cautious that the agents would find me, follow me home, interrogate me - I've never been arrested even by usual cops and it was unlikely that shady government agencies were delicate in their approach. A larger part of my brain was wondering about the implications of what I had seen, I'd nearly chewed off my fingernails remembering the vacant, lost face expressions on the agents' faces.

As soon as I got home, I set to do some serious googling. And find information, I did. Plethora of minor details - candle colors, herbs used, deeply individual incantations and mythical deities that chose to work with a particular witch. It was nothing short of a whole science; I'd go as far as to say it was a complete lifestyle. The use of magick bled into every aspect of daily life, from sleep to food to communication with others.

Part of me felt incredulity at the implication of sacrificing so much to get results that might be the opposite of the ones desired. A larger, braver part of me - the very same that used to push me to explore abandoned buildings with my friends and drink booze given by a stranger - admired the work and the dedication my boss and her kind put into their work.

Having received my first paycheck and successfully having made it through rent day without having to make excuses, my conscious allowed me to treat myself to a few items - I decided to give into my curiosity and placed an order for a few books on modern witchcraft, happily waiting for the package to arrive next afternoon. I went to sleep with my head full and a new world at my feet to explore.

The books were late - or more like, never showed. The refund couldn't come soon enough. My curiosity began to reach unbearable levels the longer I worked the front desk at Odette's. These days I didn't need much assistance anymore, ready to help any new or returning customer with the help of my notebook. Time after time, I noticed a certain working order, a pattern to things if you may - and was able to recommend a few things here and there. In short, I stepped over my initial apprehension and dove into the world of natural remedies and energetic manipulation headfirst.

It made all the sense that Odette would start to take absence from the bodega as my training progressed. On the days she had fewer or no appointments, she would don her favourite scarf and trot out the front door, large purse in tow, to run errands or restock on the rare, pricy items that couldn't get delivered directly to the shop. I'd grown accustomed to locking up on my own; the spare key to the entrance door was my pride and joy, the dull silver a warm comfort hanging on a chain around my neck. Its antique design made a fairly pretty necklace.

The customer coming to pick up a special order hardly disrupted my time. I had Janis Joplin blaring from the old radio, my skirt swayed to the rhythm of the song together with me. The elevated mood while working in the shop was something I appreciated fully - with a kind smile, I departed for the backrooms to search for the package with the customer's name, not finding it anywhere near the proper place. A call later, I was opening Odette's office and extracting the paper-wrapped shoebox from the fridge, passing it into the customer's arms with utmost care: 'FRAGILE. KEEP REFRIGERATED AT ALL TIMES.' read on it in Odette's sharp cursive.

The bell above the door rang as the woman departed but I was already inching behind the curtain, overcome by sudden inquisitiveness.

The book. It stood right in the middle of Odette's desk, shut, but missing its padlock, beckoning with the thick gothic letters spelling out 'PRACTICAL ALCHEMY'. I noticed it as soon as I stepped into the office, confused and puzzled by my own unbearable desire to approach it immediately. I knew something was amiss, yet, my legs had a mind of their own and my hands firmly placed themselves upon the heavy cover of the book, seemingly without the input from my brain.

"What the hell..." I muttered to myself, finding the books contents to be - for the lack of a better word - peculiar. "Protect a babe born on all Hallows Eve..." I numbly mouthed the first words that my eyes registered. The pages made a soft noise as my shaking fingers turned them, one after the other. "Bestow healing upon a barren womb... Punish a thief..." There were - spells, and potions, and so many plants I've never even heard about before.

The pages turned and handwritings changed - at the start, words were written out precisely, the cursive neat and sharp, obviously written by an ink pen. Some things were scribbles, pencil or charcoal, so barely intelligible I had to guess about a third of the words written. Towards the end of the book pages made with a typewriter appeared - blocky letters and numbers, language modern, ash and cigarette smell coming from the paper.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The longer my hands touched the pages, the stronger the tingling sensation became - I failed to notice it at first, attributing it to the exhilaration of finding something so strange yet so precious, but as I was finishing a page that contained a fairly short spell for protection of a witches' home, the discomfort of my palms rose into a mild stinging pain.

"Fuck," I yelped, casting a look at my fingers. They were hot, angry, as if I had briefly touched boiling oil - and the skin on my fingertips began to blister, little white pustules forming where I had gingerly held the pages of the book in place. "What the fuck?" Was my reasonable question to nobody in particular.

The books contents were, no doubt, interesting but I was more concerned with the state of my hands - had I ignored the pain for five more minutes, I might have had to go to the hospital to treat what was beginning to look like a second-degree burn. I slammed it shut none-too-gently, placing it exactly as I found it and winced when barely a second of touching it brought on more excruciating pain.

The healing peppermint oil salve I knew people bought for mild burns only soothed the initial sting, so I had to suffer until I clocked out, stopping by a drugstore on my way home to purchase some much-needed burn cream. And while it didn't make it worse, I knew that my next day at work was going to be Hell.

Most thankful, however, I was to my voice-to-text option on my cell. Not only it allowed me to communicate with my friends without hurting my abused skin even more, but it also dutifully saved the short, simple spell that was supposed to protect my house. There was no harm in trying it, I supposed, after seeing what I didn't doubt was the book's own protection wreak havoc on my snoopy little hands.

The tag list is open until the story is finished.

@couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

[that-wildwolf]

in which I continue to post little excerpts of my one-shots

Title: As The World Turns

Pairing: Shepard & Garrus | Platonic Shakarian

Excerpt:

Shepard sighs, strapping off her chestplate, letting it fall to the padded carpeting on the floor. It lands on the ground with a quiet thud; one that will not be heard outside her soundproof door.

A small smile creeps onto Shepard's lips and she's too tired to even fight off that reflex. Soundproof walls, carpeted flooring... This is honestly the only place she can get any privacy—or at least a semblance thereof—anymore.

She falls onto the bed without much grace, glad to be rid of the uncomfortable armor and to be able to let her hair down, both literally and metaphorically. It has not been a particularly taxing day, even, but at this point she's not even paying attention anymore.

"Should I go?" Garrus isn't uncomfortable, as far as she can tell, but he does seem a bit distraught. Maybe he doesn't know what the protocol is here. It is her personal cabin, after all, and she did not invite him up, per se. More than anything, they'd just stumbled into the elevator, equally drained after the day's activities and neither of them really wanted to be alone... Shit, she doesn't know. They didn't say anything.

"I don't know," she says, in line with the truth. "I won't mind if you stay."

True again: she feels comfortable around him. Perhaps even only him. It doesn't really happen often in her line of work to find someone whom you can trust completely, so maybe that's why that revelation surprises her now.

Complete trust. Not something that just happens, Shepard thinks, and for some reason it only makes her appreciate their relationship more. Garrus, unlike everyone else, gets her. He's more than just her best friend now. No, they've been together through hell and then some, and somehow they made it... How very logical that they would be so close now.

And they are. They are so close now that Shepard doesn't have any inhibitions against stripping off her armor and leaving her vulnerable to most forms of physical attack—something she wouldn't dare do in front of another turian—or even letting her guard down so much she lets herself close her eyes and lie down—something she would never do in front of any other man. She just takes down the walls she keeps up at all times, diving into her apparently unlimited trust for that young turian gunnery officer, and for the first time in way too long, lets herself relax.

She mumbles something about how he can sit down if he'd like, but for all she cares, he might as well throw himself on the bed and she wouldn't be bothered, too tired to do anything about it.

Read the whole thing here:

[timeaftertime-chriscornellfanfic]

Chapter 34 - Remember To Let Her Into Your Heart Then You Can Start To Make It Better

Houston Texas, May 25 2017

(Chris is 52, Andi is 29)

CHRIS: Swiping the steam from the mirror in the hotel bathroom, I grab my shaving cream, pouring some in my hand then pat my cheeks and grab the razor to clean up this stubble a bit. I rinse my razor a few times and continue on, leaning in close and gently swiping it across my cheek when I suddenly hear my acoustic in the other room being softly played for a few chords. I stop for a second to listen, and hear Andi softly singing and strumming.

I missed that voice of hers, no matter how much she always said she never had one, that playing was her thing, she always sounded so beautiful when she would just let go and sing. I close my eyes for a moment and just focus, listening to her then turn my attention back to finish shaving. Once I've rinsed my face and gently slap on some after shave, and with the white towel around my hips I make my way out of the bathroom.

"Happiness is like an old friend I miss, How can I tell you what it feels to be like this...?" She sings, sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard with my guitar across her lap, in one of my white v-neck t-shirts with the collar slipped off her shoulder, and nothing else. She stops for a moment and picks up her phone, typing something and then glances up to see me.

"Hi," She smiles and bites her lip nervously.

"Hey," I chuckle as I approach her.

"Sorry, I just had an idea, or a melody... something, and I just didn't want to lose it," She says, setting her phone back down beside her.

"S'ok baby, don't stop on my account," I smile at her. She then dismissively waves her hand and sets the guitar aside on the bed, moves to her knees and crawls over to me.

She places her hands on my chest as I reach out for her, leaning down and placing my lips on hers. My hands cup her face holding her to me as she begins to suck on my bottom lip.

"Chris?" She says when she pulls away from me but I touch my forehead to hers.

"Yes baby?" I breathe. It was all I could do to not just lay her back down on the bed and make love to her again... for the third time today.

"Am I coming with you, when you head home this afternoon?"

I lift my forehead from hers and look at her confused by that question.

"Um, yea, why? Do you not want to?" I ask, raising my eyebrow and she flicks her eyes to mine.

"No, I mean, yea I want to, I'm just worried is all,"

"Worried about what?" I ask.

"I don't know... I think I'm just worried about us. Me... specifically. I don't want to slip again," She says as she studies her hands on my bare chest.

“I don't want you to slip again either," I say as I brush a few curls out of her eyes. She stays quiet for a few moments and I touch my forehead back to hers, her fingers reaching up and playing with my damp curls.

"I'm so sorry Chris - "

"Shhhh, you need to stop apologizing to me," I chuckle.

"But - " She starts.

"No,"

"Chris - ?"

"Shhhh," I hush her again and she starts to laugh.

I take her hands and bring them up to my lips, placing soft gentle kisses to her fingers, then lean in and place my lips back on hers determined to convince her that I've long forgiven her for whatever it is that she feels guilty of - her time slipping. I deepen the kiss, making it long and passionate while my hands make their way down her sides, to her hips, slowly inching up my t-shirt that she's wearing so that I can feel her perfect ass in my hands. She then presses her body to mine, her fingers lacing through my hair.

"Ok, go on and take your shower before I end up back in bed with you again, making us late for our flight," I say pulling away from her. She giggles that cute little laugh and places a quick kiss on my chest, then climbs off the bed as I watch her remove my shirt. Her curls falling down around her as she sets my shirt on the bed and heads into the bathroom.

*****

A short while later, we meet with Kim Matt and Ben down in the lobby of the hotel to make a plan to meet up in Seattle in a week to start more work on the new record. Once we say our goodbyes, Andi and I head out to the airport.

Oh, I forgot to mention that Martin Kirsten is no longer in the picture. I fired him just after Andi had figured out that he was slipping me unknown pills. I still don't know the motive as to why he would do that and after an argument with him privately, I fired him. I am determined now to fix every mistake I've made over the last 18 years, starting with getting back to my roots like Kim said.

"Alright, Mr. Cornell here is your exchanged ticket and you'll be boarding at terminal 11" The receptionist says to me as she hands the tickets over to me.

"Thank you," I say and turn to Andi to hand her one of the tickets.

"I thought you had set up the private jet to fly us back home?" She says sweetly.

"I try not to fly in that thing too much. It freaks me out sometimes. Anyways, this is more economical," I explain as I take her hand in mine while we head over to the waiting area.

"Wait... Chris, these are for New York?" She says as she looks over her plane ticket.

"Uh huh," I say as we find a few empty seats in the waiting area and set our luggage down.

"You live in New York?" Andi looks up at me as I fumble with my jacket for a second.

"Uh huh," I say and slide the luggage handle down then flip my curls out of my eyes to look at her. She looks back at me with an inquisitive expression but I'm not quite sure how to explain how I don't exactly live in Seattle anymore, at least I haven't lived there fully since 2001.

"Flight 52 to New York City, now boarding. Flight 52 to New york City, now boarding"

"Well, that's us babe," I smile at her and she gives me a half smile back as I pull up the luggage handle and she takes her bag, slinging it over her shoulder once more. I take her hand in mine and place my lips to the back of her hand as we walk to the board the plane.

*****

New York City, New York

(Andi is 29, Chris is 52)

ANDI: Pulling up to Chris's house was an unreal experience to say the least. Never mind me time slipping 18 years in the future, I never even thought that he would find himself living in New York of all places. It wasn't exactly right in the city part, more so just on the outskirts in a small suburb. The house was beautiful. A dark red brick 2 storey home and very upscale. Different from the gothic home that he and I bought around '97 in Seattle. It was large, 4,500 square feet to be exact - from what he explained - and it definitely looked that way on the outside.

"Come on babe, let me show you inside," He says as the cab drives away and he picks up our bags. I follow him to the porch, while he takes a few minutes to find his keys and he opens the door.

Once I step inside, it's just as beautiful as I had thought it would be, and so entirely different than I thought. There is a large foyer at the front door with an incredible chandelier that hung over head. Straight ahead was what looked like a sitting area/living room that was completely made up of black and white furniture with a white shag throw rug underneath the glass coffee table. Once he sets our bags down and hangs up his jacket, he takes my hand and shows me the rest of the house. He first leads me into the kitchen which was also large and very white, with stainless steel appliances, the dining room which again was white with white leather dining room chairs and a black steel framed dining table. He then leads me to another room that was more of the living room than the first one, with a huge 60 inch TV and surround system - still in the pattern of black and white but mostly white.

Upstairs were 4 bedrooms and a Master, 2 of the rooms once again very white and 'clean'. The other two you could tell were a little more lived in, sort of like a teenagers room, but looked like no one has lived in those two rooms for months. Then there was the Master bedroom that also had an ensuite bathroom with a jacuzzi tub. Again, so much white. I was beginning to get the coldness feeling from this house. I think Chris could tell what I was feeling so he saved the best room for last.

Down in the basement, was one of the most beautiful studios that I had ever seen. It was warm and inviting but yet so simple. Hardwood floors throughout, sound proofing on each wall, inset warm lighting and his guitars lined beautifully along one side. At the far end was a drumset and opposite of that was a desk with a mixboard, and a computer for mixing and recording. Along with the soundproofing hung each award for each album that had gone Gold - selling 50,000 copies or more, Badmotorfinger and Superunknown. There were also plaques and frames for all the soundtrack work he did, and even ones for...

"Audioslave?" I ask as I turn and face him, pushing my curls behind my ear while he stand near the doorway.

"Yea it's uh... The band I had after Soundgarden. After you um... y'know, Susan helped get me in touch with the guys from Rage after Zach left. Apparently Rick Rubin  really wanted me to work with him and the guys since they wanted to try something different I guess," He explains.

"You did three albums?" I say looking at each one framed. The first record with a 3 x Platinum award for selling more than 3,000,000 copies in the U.S and Canada. The  second - Out Of Exile - and third -Revelations - with Gold awards much like Badmotorfinger and Superunknown did when they were released.

"Uh huh," He says as he watches me walk to the other side of the studio and see his original pressings for Ultramega Ok, Screaming Life and Fopp, Louder Than Love and Down on the Upside all framed.

"I remember these though," I giggle and he smiles as he walks over to me. I then find the record that he was working on before I slipped, The album cover with him on the front, exactly how he looked before I lost 18 years with him  and framed with a dedication plaque on the front.

"You finished it?" 

"I did," He says sweetly.

"To my disappearing one: forever and always, this is for you,"  I read the plaque more to myself than to him, hearing my voice shake.

"It's uh... that's also written in the album credits too," He says quietly as I glance down and see the row of guitars in which the first three catch my eye.

"You kept them?" I ask as I run my hand along the first - the silver sparkle Gretsch I got for my 20 birthday - then the one that he stole for me when he was 15 - the jet black Gibson Standard and the next one, the one  that my dad had given me for graduation.

"Well yea, I mean... they're yours, what am I gonna do get rid of them?" He chuckles.

I turn and look up at him, my brow furrowing as I desperately try to not bawl like an absolute baby in front of him. I really had no idea what to say. He should hate me. He should never want to have anything to do with  me again for all the times I left him alone and all the years that I wasn't with him.

"Chris I - "

"No, don't say it. I told you I don't want you apologizing anymore," He says and he cups my face in his palms as I look down, still feeling so guilty of everything that's happened. "Hey, baby look at me... you saved me remember?  You saved me from the biggest mistake I could've made remember?"

I glance back up into those beautiful blue eyes of his and he presses his lips to mine. Softly and gently at first then once again quick becoming passionate and full of hunger as he draws me into his arms. He then lifts  me up and I giggle against his lips while he carries me out of the studio.

[cleaverbilt]

There's a quiet chirp, a quick and familiar greeting that tails the slow creak of the study door, a thump of a familiar tail against it to make sure it shuts. Sz'xi walks softly, watching her claws, and there's a cursory glance around the room - a song and dance they know well, making sure that no one will overhear. This study may be soundproofed, may be protected with the full force of all they've been familiarized to, but it's useful to doublecheck. It's helpful, to make sure you haven't overlooked something.

Only then does Slz'Exkii slink up to the desk, already pulling aside a particularly cushioned chair and draping herself over it, eyes wide as she looks up at her older sister. Blue eyes. Not fully slits, a bit too broad for that. Sitting in a particular place between intense interest and a hesitation, a fear, something that she can't fully get rid of.

She's silent for a few minutes. Not daring to speak up. Considering her words before she does so, more out of trying to handle the bombshells of her own emotions and thoughts before she more fully breaches the topic and brings them forth into sound and understanding.

"T'gyt," she starts slowly. Holding the words between her teeth like she's trying to savor them or soften the blow or both. Like she could tame them into silk and pearls and they would behave. "I... I have been thinking."

Not always the most promising, with Slz'Exkii, but she tries her best in the only ways she can.

"I - You know my friends, yes? And how some of them have royal titles, or are similarly in positions of authority to landfolk? And they have their royal families, or families who are also powerful, or are used to that, or just raised them or-

Well... I have been... Confused. I don't understand it. Why are their families... "

Nice? Gentle? Loving? Saw them as people? Didn't make them live in fear that they could be un-made the second that they expressed even the stray thought that something was wrong?

"So much closer, than what we have? You know how Daddy is, but the others... They do not have parents like him. Who- who do not make them feel the way he wishes for us to feel towards him. Or who have to keep a watch on their siblings, like we do for - you know.

I know why we have to have this, why we are supposed to have it, but-

But I'm confused. Why does it work for them? Why do they not have to hurt? Why does the Merkingdom need us to bleed for it while the others are permitted to... live?"

A hand rests heavy upon Slz'Exkii's head, clawed fingers stroking soft pink strands with a tenderness only familiar to her little sister. She's not ready for the whole truth, not yet-but it's high time she receives a piece of it.

"Because the Kingdom doesn't need us to bleed for it, Sz'xi. They tell us it does, lest it cease to function, but in truth not a single kingdom requires blood. Kingdoms..." How to put this in a way she'll understand? "Kingdoms...are like Spooky High. They are built not with stone and maintained with blood, but rather with systems meant to benefit all persons within them, regardless of if they are authority or attendee. As in the case of Spooky High, you have your principals and your teachers and your staff to plan curriculum, maintain the learning facility, and provide meals and other such necessities while students are within their walls. In return, students are what allow Spooky High to remain funded and functioning-in simple terms, it's a balancing act. A coexistence necessary for both parties to thrive. Are you with me so far?"

"Ideally, things should function the same way within our kingdom. Those in power provide and protect those without, and in return those without give us the resources necessary to continue providing for them. But that's not how it works, in our kingdom. You know what nobles are like-they'd do anything to get their hands on more power...even if it means teaching us that we must bleed and bite and butcher to maintain a system warped and twisted, entirely unrecognizable from what it could be, from what it should be. Father is the simply latest link in a very long chain-and he has brought down Laudanda and Amanda with him."

Bellanda pauses, eyes flicking away from Miranda's own in thought. After a moment of consideration...she decides that perhaps it is time to tell her a bit more of the Queen was really like. "I've never told a soul this, and you cannot either-but your mother...after I came into the world, your mother realized this very fact. That they pit us against each other to keep us bleeding, to keep us weak, so we're too distracted by one another to identify the real problem. She was of the belief that it was too late for her to change-that she became another link long ago...but she knew you and I had still had a chance. She did everything in her power to keep me away from the courts, and when you were born...she knew she wouldn't be here to protect you. So I took up the role in her stead."

"They want us to despise each other, Sz'xi. They want us to rip each other apart to become the oil that fuels their death machine. They're terrified at the mere thought of the fact that we are capable of existing as others do, because it renders their power obsolete, their machine defunct." Both of her hands come to grasp Miranda's tight-as though she's scared she'll slip through her fingers. "Don't let them trick you-don't let them tell you that this hell is the only way we can be. You and I are proof that it isn't-because I love you. Because your mother loved you."

"Because, despite everything, we have chosen to love."