#at the very least have her come clean to barky

[go-setyoursoulonfire]

Man, Monster High G3 really did not want to commit to giving Toralei a redemption arc. In the season 1 finale she seemed to take a step on the right track...and then promptly did a 180 for the rest of the show.

[mademoiselleparapluie]

Yule at Quinn’s

Yuletide at the village was beautiful. The snow banked every cottage and fluttered in the wind. Mr. Flanagan hired a group of singers to carol people near his shop and the scent of Quinn special spiced wine wafted through the air. Usually, Eufrosyne would have made the track to town just to enjoy the ambiance, but the snowfall had been heavy that year. Traveling from the cottage had become first rather difficult, then life threatening and finally completely impossible. Wisely she had prepared for this possibility and had plenty of provisions. Still Yule alone felt depressing beyond belief.

Kierana pushed her snout to her hand. Eufrosyne smiled and cuddled her familiar. Kierana looked at her and wagged her tail. “You always cheer me up.”  After her obligatory dog tongue ear washing, Eufrosyne got up and put the kettle on. A cup of tea was a perfect pick me up during the dark winter days. This tea had some cinnamon and other warm spices. She added a nice dollop of honey in and took the cup to her library. It had once been a drawing room, but generations of her family had collected enough books to merit the library title. She sat down on her favourite armchair and sipped her tea. Kierana put her head in her lap and gave her the most pitiful look she could manage. “You won’t like tea Kirry.” Saying that did not help. It never did. Kierana was absolutely convinced that what ever humans were eating was absolutely delicious for a dog’s palette as well. Eufrosyne found it annoying but also a bit endearing. Without Kierana the room would have felt very lonely indeed right now. In her grandmother’s time everyone had come here for Yule. The cottage would have been full on noise and life. Even when her mother had been the Witch of the Village Eufrosyne’s uncles often made the trip for Yule but now they had families of their own in cities faraway from here. Eufrosyne took another sip and sighed. The room was lonely and the thought of making Yule dinner for one made her unspeakably depressed, partly because she didn’t have much in the way of ingredients. Kierana made an impatient sound and poked her leg with a paw. “It’s still just tea Kirry.” She finished her cup and got up. They should at least get some fresh air.

Getting some air was much more of a chore than during autumn. Eufrosyne pulled on her heavy wool coat, her winter hat and mittens and winter boots with the fur lining. Kierana on the other hand was an arctic breed and thus needed to wear nothing. She was however very helpful while Eufrosyne dressed and by helpful Kierana meant being in the way in worst way possible and then shooting out of the door like a bullet when it was opened. This too was somehow very endearing. Finally, Eufrosyne was done.

By the time she got to the chicken coop Kierana had run around the house three times. The chickens were fine for now. The coop was well made and possibly warmer than her bedroom. The chickens had stopped laying at late November which was normal. They would get back to it come spring and Eufrosyne had made a bunch of fruitcakes for winter around October. She had planned to have some for her Yule meal but now it felt a bit sad.  She grabbed the chicken feed and started sprinkle it on the floor. The chickens and her one rooster flocked around her. She was just about finished when she heard Kierana greeting someone. She pulled her mittens back on and stepped outside and followed the sound of barky screams just in time to save Quinn from the mandatory ear cleaning. “Quinn? What are you doing here? The path through the woods is lethal!” “ I came to invite you to my tavern for Yule. It occurred to me you’d be alone for Yule and thought you might want to join us. Kirry-berry can of course come too though we will have to exercise her often to make sure she doesn’t return as a barrel.” Quinn smiled and petted Kierana who was trying to steal his glove for a game of fetch. “And I used a horse to get through the snow. A friend was kind enough to lend me his sleigh.” Eufrosyne smiled. Quinn had a surprising amount of very generous friends that seemed to show up at convenient times. “I guess I shall pack. How many of my fruit cakes will we need?”

In the end they decided on five fruit cakes. Yule at Quinn’s tavern was usually busy as people from all around with nowhere to go made the trip there. Eufrosyne was glad Quinn had thought of her. It made her feel lighter. They wrangled Kirry into the sleigh with some help from the treats Eufrosyne always had ready for her and then Quinn helped her in. “The trip didn’t take much time at all.” he said and took the reins. “Milady will be brought to town in no time.” “Don’t tease.” “I would never Effie-dear. Especially in front of Kirry-berry.” Eufrosyne hid a smile, and they took off.

The forest was like a fairy land during winter, especially during the early sunset hours when the light painted everything in the hues of gold and made everything sparkle like diamonds. They were about halfway through the trip when it started snowing. “You would have been really snowed in if I hadn’t showed up.” “Quite true. Snow has been rather heavy this year.” On her last trip to town, she had gotten stuck in a snowbank. Luckily Kirry loved to dig. She had helped her after giving her face a very thorough bath. Eufrosyne gathered the sleigh blanket closer to her. The wind was quite biting considering how fast they were traveling. They would be at the tavern before night fell.

Quinn’s tavern was a unique place. The song of magic was easy to hear in the tavern and judging by the guests, the veils between the worlds were particularly thin around the entrance. Eufrosyne quite enjoyed the atmosphere at Quinn’s. You never knew what was about to come through the door. Quinn himself was possibly the wisest, kindest man in this side of the world.  No matter how lonely, sad or angry a guest at his establishment was, he made them feel welcomed, cared about and that truly was magical. He also had a knack of guessing exactly what sort of drink or dish each person needed. As they approached the sounds of an ancient yule time carol filled the air. A warm scent of spices wafted from the door. Quinn pulled the sleigh to a stop and laughed when Kirry shot out of it and ran straight into the tavern. Eufrosyne herself disembarked more gracefully, carefully carrying the boxes fruit cakes. Quinn, being the gentleman he was, carried her overnight bag.

The tavern was quite crowded when they stepped in. In a corner a harpist was playing festive music and Eufrosyne saw that Kirry had made friends with an enormous white wolf that lounged next to the grand fireplace. In one of the booths three witches argued very loudly. Oldest of them turned her stern blue gaze towards Eufrosyne and nodded slightly and respectfully. Like always knows like and, witches always knew each other. Eufrosyne nodded back and followed Quinn up to the guest rooms. Eufrosyne had a specific room in the tavern. She stayed over quite often, usually when there was sickness in the village and her brews, hands and potions were desperately needed, or if someone was giving birth or someone’s cow was giving birth. Deaths were another occasion of her inn visits as well. But Yule sounded a whole lot more fun than any of those. Quinn put her bag on the bed, and she handed him the fruit cakes. “Dinner will be soon.” He smirked “It’s lamb stew today.” “My favourite.” She smiled at him. “I know. I made it special and planned to use it to lure you here if you refused to come otherwise.” “You are a crafty man, Quinn Thompson.” He stuck out his tongue and closed the door. Eufrosyne shook her head and took off her coat and gloves. Her dress was perfectly respectable for simple dinner, and she had packed her good dress for Yule festivities. She straightened her collar and cuffs. They were just simple white ones, but she had nice lace ones for special occasions. The lace had been handed from mother to daughter in her family for several centuries and was as fine as gossamer.  They were with her as well. Yule should be celebrated in proper style. After neatening her hair, Eufrosyne made her way downstairs and checked on Kirry who had fallen asleep on top of the enormous white wolf. The wolf did not seem to mind. Eufrosyne smiled at the sight and sat down on the counter. Quinn handed her a cup of spiced wine and said that the stew would be done any moment now. Eufrosyne took sip of her wine and sighed contently.

The morning of Yule dawned with the clouds dispersed and sun shining. Quinn was putting up evergreens when Eufrosyne came down from her room.  He looked like he needed help, so she stepped in and Kirry did too though her help was more hinderance in all honesty. Fortunately for them and the festive décor, Quinn’s fry chef lured Kirry over with the promise of breakfast and treats. Soon others joined in to help Quinn decorate. After a while it turned into a regular party. Cesar put out a buffet spread for breakfast, and everyone grabbed what they wanted while helping to put up boughs of spruce and red velvet ribbons, some with more success that others. Eufrosyne would never forget when one of the three witches, a very short, round woman helped to decorate the huge iron work chandelier by standing on Big George George’s shoulders before being urged out the door by her stern companion. Big George looked relieved and quite red afterwards and absolutely refused to speak of the incident ever again. In fact, he drank his giant cup of coffee in record time and bolted out of the tavern clearly fearing that the woman would return. When the decorations were complete, Eufrosyne put the leash of Kirry and headed out. She needed her walk after all, and the Village was lovely during Yule, a perfect picture of midwinter cheer. Every door boasted a wreath of evergreens, the roofs were covered by pure white snow and while rather limited in their song selection the carollers hired by Mr. Flanagan filled the air with music. At evening candles lit in the windows would fill the streets with their joyous flicker.

Eufrosyne and Kirry headed to the village square. At this time of year, it was filled with little stalls selling all sorts of wonderful things as a sort of a Yule market. Farmers that lived near the village had their stalls as well as travelling merchants from further away. Even some that had travelled from different continents. It was a tradition for Eufrosyne to check out their offerings each year. Sometimes she found some real treasures, rare herbs, crystals from far away lands or simply a delicious new mayonnaise from the farm over yonder. Often it was Kirry who lead her to the best finds. Kirry had a very discerning nose, and she was an excellent judge of character. Many a merchant who had wonderful wares had been sorely disappointed by the little orange dog leading her mistress to another stall entirely after a whiff at their direction.

Eufrosyne was quite surprised when Kirry headed straight to booth selling woollen goods and fabrics. Admittedly her autumn cape had been exhibiting signs of falling apart so perhaps Kirry had a point.  She stepped up to the booth and removed her glove to feel the fabrics better. “Hello dear! What are ye looking for?” The seller, a woman of advanced age and wizened face, asked. “A wool fabric for an autumn cape. Or mayhaps a coat. Something that holds well against rain.” “I have lovely new tweeds straight from the north. And…” the woman gave her a sharp look. “Something dark, for a lady with the Hearing?” “Yes.” The woman pulled up a few bolts of dark grey tweeds and Eufrosyne picked one she quite liked and added a pair of colourful mittens to her purchase.  She enjoyed colourful patterned knits and even made a few herself from time to time. Knitting was a relaxing hobby, good for those evenings when there were stories to be listened to or told. After a moment she grabbed a few balls of yarn as well.

While the lady packed her things, Eufrosyne looked about the marketplace and noted that many of the farmers had managed the treck to the village. But of course, they had the advantage of a horse. Lil’ George George was currently manning his family’s booth of apple preserves. The boy waved excitedly. She’d have look of his wares later but now she felt like a cup of something warm was in order. Hot chocolate stall was singing its siren’s song at her so after getting her wools she made her way there and received a cup with a generous dollop of whipped cream post-haste. Kirry practically glued herself to her legs to get her portion of the cream. Eufrosyne obliged and found her way to bench nearby. It was blessedly covered in lambskins and quilts. Kirry quickly put her head in Effie’s lap and let out a pathetic whine. “No more cream Kirry.” Another whine. Eufrosyne took a sip of the wonderfully hot drink and savoured the deep flavour. The seller always used a special mix of spices to make the drink especially nice. Vanilla, some cinnamon and just tiniest bit salt to bring out the richness of the chocolate.   It wasn’t just the flavour she savoured. The warmth of the cup was seeping into her fingers which had grown a bit frozen in the brisk cold air. She smiled contently and people watched a bit, while sipping her drink.

It seemed like the whole town was out. She could see Mr. Flanagan standing before his shop, directing his carollers. His wife was making her way to the herbal stall to talk to Mrs. George who seemed to be arguing about the price of bath salts. The whole square was filled with the pleasant whirr of the season. Eufrosyne returned her cup to the chocolate stall and made her way to the George stall. It was filled with all sorts of preserves. Apart from apples the George’s grew cherries and pears and a large assortment of berries. “Miss Effie, mam wanted you to try the cherry compote. She used some new spices and said ye have the best palette in the county!” “Of course.” Lil’ George handed her the spoon. Eufrosyne took a careful spoonful and nodded her head slowly. “She’s outdone herself. This is delicious.” The addition of basil was quite inspired. “I must buy a jar and maybe one for Quinn too.” Lil George moved fast as lightning and packed two jars. Eufrosyne paid for them and looked around to decide where to go next. She was just about to get some roasted chestnuts when Mr. Flanagan called her name. “Ah miss Taylor! Just the person I needed!” Eufrosyne gathered her patience and made her way to Flanagan’s. “What is it Mr. Flanagan?” “Oh, you see my wife wished to give you a nice yule present and I couldn’t make it to the cottage with the snow but now you’re here.” Mr. Flanagan seemed a bit flustered with the idea of his wife giving a gift to a witch but managed to hand it over. “It’s just some of her toffees as you like them so much.” “It’s very kind of her to remember.” Eufrosyne smiled and curtsied a bit. “But of course, miss Taylor. You’re one of our very favourite customers.” “Well do thank your wife.” Eufrosyne would naturally send her a thank you-note after Yule. It was just polite to do so. The note for Quinn would have to be particularly nice.

On the way back to the tavern she picked up some of the chestnuts. They were her favourite yuletide treat. She even saved some from the autumn harvest to cook some at home but the ones at the town square were always more special. Quinn laughed when he saw all her packages. “Lots shopping it seems.” He smirked. “The market had very good things this year. I got you some of Mrs. George’s cherry compote. She used basil this year and it is exquisite.” Quinn grabbed the jar and opened taking a long sniff. “Smells nice. I’ll put it on the paper cakes tomorrow morning and get the guests opinion. If it’s really good, I might make a stock order for it. The Georges could do with one of those.” Eufrosyne agreed. Fruit farming wasn’t the easiest job to get by with. Especially during winter.

Eufrosyne went up and put her shopping in her room. Well apart from the chestnuts. Those she brought down with her with Kirry hounding her heels. She too quite liked chestnuts. They were lucky to make it downstairs without falling. Eufrosyne took a seat at the tavern’s common room near the large fireplace. Kirry said hello to her wolf friend before returning to look longingly at chestnuts. The wolf reluctantly joined her. There was almost a human sadness in the beast’s red eyes. “You are a long way from home, aren’t you?” Eufrosyne said and scratched its ears. She could barely hear the whine it let out. “Poor dear.” She handed the beast chestnut which he took from her hand almost daintily. A moment later Quinn brought her a cup of tea. “It will go with your chestnuts.” He smiled and put it down to a table next to her. “And a treat for Kirry-berry and our canine guest.” Both creatures received a nice bone. Eufrosyne smiled at them. “Tell me if you need help Quince?” Quinn shook his head. “You are my guest. And I’m sure the town will have your hands full before long.” Eufrosyne quirked her eyebrow. “But there is always so much to do on Yule.” “Well yes. Maybe after your tea you could make a couple of witch-balls for the tree.” Quinn suggested. “It would be my pleasure.” Eufrosyne smiled. She liked making witch-balls, weaving spells into them and hanging them into the tree. “Which one would you prefer?” “Anything you can make Effie-dear.” “I’ll raid Cesar’s spice cabinet later.” She already had a few ideas. “And if some of your other guests wish to join, I don’t mind helping them.” “You are a treasure Effie-dear. Some of my guests were getting a bit bored.”

An hour later Eufrosyne was holding court at one of the larger tables at the tavern hall, surrounded by spices, flowers, twigs of evergreens, dried fruits and glass orbs. Quinn had even brought out a few crystals. She started with the traditional Yule ball with holly branches, a bit of evergreens, a few sticks of cinnamon and rose petals. It would bring good luck for the coming year. After thinking it over for a while, she added some star anis for protection. Something in the air had felt strangely threatening since Samhain. In fact, she should make a few specific ones for protection. And some for prosperity. She looked up and noticed a curious crowd gathering around the table. She waved them to sit down and explained she was doing. After a while the whole table was covered in witch-balls of various purposes. Just in time too. Quinn was bringing the tree in. Eufrosyne smirked. They had more than enough of the ornaments. When the tree was up, she was the first one to put one on. Soon the tree was full of them. A moment later Cesar came out of the kitchen with a tray of hangable, beautifully decorated gingerbread biscuits which also went on to the tree. After they were done it was a handsome looking thing indeed. Even if Kirry stole a biscuit or two for her and the wolf. Afterwards the guests slipped out to get dressed for dinner

Eufrosyne had been saving her better dress for this. It was a simple but made out very fine wool mixed with a little bit of silk which gave it a luxurious sheen. With her antique lace collar and cuffs, it was quite elegant. However, before dressing she should deal with her hair. Eufrosyne had kept it on a braid for the day to give it a bit of wave. For the evening she would put it on a nice pompadour with maybe some strands curled near her face. She might even add a bit of holly in the back. It would look nice and festive.  For once her hair agreed with her. Eufrosyne smiled and put on her good dress. She took a long look in the mirror. She looked very nice. The sweep of the skirt was truly very elegant.   After she was done Eufrosyne turned toward Kirry who was sitting up very nicely. Slowly Eufrosyne took out a length of wide red silk ribbon. Kirry looked very disapproving but changed her mind when Eufrosyne offered her a chestnut. Soon the ribbon was tied around the little dog’s neck in a luxurious bow. It looked very fetching. Of course, it was likely that Kirry would get rid of the ribbon as soon as possible. But for now, they were ready to go downstairs. Eufrosyne pinched her cheeks quickly a few times and opened the door. Kirry slipped out before her and sat down at the start of the stairs looking expectant. She knew there would be nice food tonight. And loose fingers.

The tavern hall and the common room looked like the most festive places in the world. The greenery they had hung at morning was still green and lovely and the red velvet ribbons added a bright spot of colour throughout the room. The candles Quinn had lit gave the room a warm golden glow and the witch-balls glittered in the tree. There was holly above the fireplaces which also lend their light to the glow in the room. The small booths of the hall had disappeared and been replaced by long large table with enough seating for everyone. It groaned under the weight of Cesar’s Yule dinner. There were roasted geese, giant puddings, plates full of roast potatoes, pitchers of Quinn’s spiced wine, all sorts of preserved fruits, buns and of course Eufrosyne’s fruit cakes. It was a truly wonderful sight. Quinn spotted her and insisted she’d have to sit at his right hand at the head of the table. She agreed and he led her to her seat. Kirry followed them and slipped under the table. And with that everything was ready. Everyone sat down and the Yule dinner begun.

It was truly a wonderful evening. Cesar’s food was wonderful, the surroundings were beautiful, and the conversation flowed like the wine. Quinn started a round of storytelling by recounting the legend of the holly king and the oak king. Eufrosyne had never heard so many Yule tales in one sitting each one more wonderful than the last. Her favourite was perhaps the story about the yule of the forest animals. It was very cheerful though very unrealistic.  But it was lovely to think that there was one night a year when everything was at peace. She felt Kirry put her head on her lap and rethought it. Looking around the table a night of perfect peace didn’t feel unrealistic at all. She petted Kirry and smiled. She was glad Quinn had convinced her to come.

[bastillewolf]

Corpse's Bride (I)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: When you end up in an unfortunate arranged marriage to salvage what is left of your parents’ wealth, it seems fate has other ideas in store for you; or perhaps it was the Devil who decided to bring back the dead?

Notes: Yea, I don’t know why I wrote this either, and no idea where this series is gonna go. If you have any suggestions, please send them. But I wanted to write something for Christmas since I haven’t posted in a while. I hope you all have safe and happy holidays! Let’s just get 2020 over with, please.

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Chapter I - The wedding

Somewhere through the clouds of smoke erupting from the city, just beyond the hills, lies a small town called Gloomington. Where the streets are always swept and yet seem never clean, where birds fly high through the sky yet never manage to reach the clouds, and where dreams are crushed underneath the wheels of creaking carriages and half-empty fish barrels. It might seem like the most boring old town, with its inhabitants that look like they’re either on the brink of death or very much willing to be, but it wasn’t to you. No, to you life appeared much more interesting, though not by your own volition. You did not turn a blind eye to the grey streets or creaking bones or listening ears, as they had always been the same to you, but the troubles you had yet to bear were much too big to focus on anything else.

Your parents had deemed that on your twenty-first birthday, you were finally fit for marriage. It was the age that they had gotten married, and by tradition, through their parents as well. Why they had decided to force this upon you as well, you did not know, for as long as you could remember you’d only ever thought of your parents to be miserable together. Their time with you was now something of the past, however, because if all went well today, you would be married within just a day or two.

It was already raining, which would’ve made the situation so much gloomier to you if you hadn’t been revelling in the fact that it meant you could take the carriage instead of walk. You didn’t mind getting your shoes or the hem of your dress dirty, but other people did. And the people you would be seeing today would not approve of anything that wasn’t perfect upon arrival.

You only remembered the Everglots vaguely from your childhood during the instance when you’d been playing in a similar storm and one of their maids had shooed you away, saying you were being too loud and an unfit view for their folk. Their house was a different story, however. It stood tall above all other houses, even yours, so it was hard to miss. You weren’t rich, even though your parents liked to pretend they were. Your father owned the biggest and only fishing company in town; the main source of income from Gloomington. The thing was though, the seas were being overfished, and all he was getting from the ocean now were ones the sizes of goldfish.

You presumed this is why your parents decided to marry you off to the Everglots’ son, Thomas. According to your nanny, they were a bunch of washed-up aristocrats. Otherwise, you’d never even caught a glimpse of them, let alone of their offspring. Which is probably why you were so nervous. If he was anything like his parents personality-wise, you hoped he at least made up for it on the outside.

“Stop fidgeting,” your mother said, snapping you from your daze. You looked down to your hands, which had been crumpling a bunch of the fabric of your dress together, probably creating creases. You wonder if you had subconsciously done it, simply out of spite, because the nerves had numbed any other senses. You smoothed it out, crossed your legs and folded your hands across your lap, to which your mother gave a pleased nod.

A glance towards your father told you not much else, he was too busy going through last-minute calculations in his notebook. This must seem like ordinary business to him.

Your heart jumped a little as you watched the horse pulling your carriage nearly slip in the mud. He’d been in your family for fifteen years now, it was a wonder he was still standing. Perhaps the whip was reason enough for such a solemn animal, confined to his leather straps and iron mouthpiece. You tugged on the silver chain your mother had draped across your neck. Some of the diamonds had been taken out, but you could only see it if you looked very closely.

The carriage wavered and eventually managed to stop with another crack of the whip. It went almost simultaneously with the clash of thunder.

Hopping out, you looked down to see your polished shoes had landed directly in the biggest puddle on the square.

“Oh, miss, you should’ve let me put my coat down for you,” the old coachman called out, rising from his seat.

Your mother’s unnerving gaze followed yours down to the puddle around your feet. “Yes, you should have. I told you to watch your step with those shoes. Henry, clean them up.”

The coachman then proceeded to lay down his coat in the puddle anyways, and even after your protests continued to polish your shoes with his previously clean white handkerchief. You thanked him when he was finished, to which he tipped his hat.

“Hurry up. We’re already late,” your mother said. You wanted to rip the whip from his hands and hit her with it, but your composure and good sense got the better of you.

The massive doorknocker hit the hardwood three times because of your father’s shaky hand, which seemed to collapse back down to his side immediately after.

To your surprise, no maid opened, but the lady of the house herself did. Missus Everglot looked down upon you with a smile that looked more like a sneer. Her hair was greying, almost to the point where it was white, a colour matching the black dress she wore. Weren’t you supposed to wear colour for a special occasion such as this? You’d been so bold to wear something green; your best dress, to be perfectly honest. Were you supposed to wear black?

“It is good to see you again,” she hummed, and your parents made noises of agreement.

“Our apologies for bringing the bad weather. But that usually means good luck!” Your father said. You all laughed, though mostly out of politeness.

She invited you in, and you were finally able to see the grandeur of the Everglots household. Or well, what was left of it. The unlit fireplaces on either side of the entrance hall made you wonder if they no longer had maids working for them or if they simply enjoyed the cold. There was only one butler you saw so far, the one who took your coats from you and then scurried off. A big staircase stood in front of you, leading two opposite directions upstairs.

“Ah! You must be the daughter we’ve been hearing so much about!” Mister Everglot suddenly appeared, his arms spread wide with the same smile as his wife spread across his pale cheeks. He also wore black, though he bore quite a bit more weight than his wife, almost to the point where the top button of his shirt looked like it wanted to bail ship.

“It’s a true pleasure meeting you, mister Everglot,” you replied quietly, holding out your hand for him to shake. He barely did, before brushing you off to gloat about things to your parents. “You know, we’ve picked out the finest gold for the rings. The blacksmith in town just did a marvellous job on them-“

The ring on your hand felt heavy. It was your grandmothers’, passed down from your mother and onto you. Now you had to bear the burden of a loveless marriage.

Your silent sigh was interrupted by a quiet clearing of someone’s throat.

You looked up to meet the eyes of a dark-haired boy, who was scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. He asked you if he got your name right. You nodded politely.

“Hi, I’m- I’m Thomas. It’s very nice to meet you, miss.”

You huffed in amusement at his stuttering. “I don’t think you have to call me ‘miss’, Thomas. We’ll be married soon.”

He smiled shyly. “I would keep calling you ‘miss’ if you preferred it. Marriage wouldn’t change that for me.”

You stood there, slightly aghast. This boy was nothing like his parents. You wondered who had raised him because as you had been fortunate enough with your nanny, you couldn’t imagine his having been any different.

“Better watch it there, Thomas.” Another man strutted down the stairs behind him. He looked just about as pretentious as mister and missus Everglot. “Don’t want to scare the little lady off there.”

Sykkuno only chuckled, but you could sense that his friend didn’t have the best intentions. He introduced himself after you, “The name’s Barkis. I’m a… good family friend of the Everglots, I suppose.” He kissed your hand, which made you shiver uncomfortably. You tried your best to hide it, instead turning your eyes to meet Thomas’ again. They seemed much brighter in this gloomy place.

At least, that’s what you kept reminding yourself of as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to refrain from fainting as your mother kept pulling on the strings of your corset until you were quite certain a few ribs had been broken off in the process.

“Now,” she reminded you, “This will be good for the family. I know you’re an unconventional spitfire, - I don’t know who you got that from – but you shall learn to listen to your husband. It will save your father’s business and his honour, not to mention your dignity.”

You couldn’t breathe, you needed air. Your mother saw the look in your eyes.

“And as a final warning, young lady, if you dare to try to run, you better remind yourself that this family will never take you in again. Not when you come crawling back with not a penny to carry, not with a baby you got from another man. You will be as good as dead to us, if you wouldn’t have already died in some gutter.”

You nodded, “I understand, mother. I just need some air.”

She gave you one last glance, before nodding. She locked the door after she left.

It allowed you to burst through the doors to the Everglots balcony, where outside the rain had thankfully settled a bit to a slight drizzle. But you didn’t care if your dress got wet. You had to untie the knot at your back.

Quickly.

But you couldn’t reach.

You leaned across the railing.

If you could reach a little further-

But your hand slipped, and you felt your feet being thrown the wrong way as you plummeted down the second floor.

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[greatcheesiness]

Hope: MSBY

Synopsis: In which a shooting star decided to make their prayers come true…

Characters: Atsumu/Sakusa/Hinata/Bokuto/Child! Y/n (little cameo) They’re all the same age except Y/n.

Genre: Angst, hopeful, Sad, a bit haunting at the end idk how that happened, mysterious, fate

W.c: 2k9

Moral of the story: Don’t think like this kids. Life is very valuable tsk.

[a/n] pfft I’m back y’all. Y’all missed me? Lmao no one asked. I have arrived with another short piece to satisfy your masochistic selves. I had no Wi-Fi and I thought I wasn’t gonna live a normal life. I was also a lazy bean who promised to work out but ended up eating Danish bread. They’re really good ngl. I did not proofread this so I am sorry for the errors. Sleep deprived again. I didn’t proofread this, sorry.

edit: this is a repost. I don’t think this was sent properly.

Little sparks emerged from the blazing mixture of red and orange. The colour of fiery and passion. But in the middle, there was a vibrant colour of yellow. Even if a person is angry and the things they do will not go as passionate, there’s always a little bit of hope. That was what Sakusa interpreted as he observed the fire. The ashy smoke floated upward into the sky and turned invisible where they will not be seen again. That is what they want, right? Just to die out...

“I’m going to find some more wood,” Bokuto said out of the blue and stood up from the barky log he just sat on. Hinata got a fright that he almost fell off of his side of the log. Bokuto then ran towards the darkened woods. Hinata’s eyes widened. He scuttled backwards and jogged into the woods, just to make sure he doesn’t wander off. Just to make sure he’s safe.

“Kotaro, wait up!” he shouted and the woods mimicked his voice of worry. It was a cold night. A blanket of navy covered the sky with a sprinkle of shimmering stars.

“I hope they don’t get lost. I heard that this is the largest forest in our area or perhaps the whole country,” the blonde head muttered. His fingers fiddling on to silver key necklace dearest to his heart. It was a gift given by his grandma just the day before her decease. That day felt like the day he lost a true friend. Sakusa stared into the sky. To become one of those shiny sequences high up the vast navy.

Small, slender, slim sticks were thrown into the fire by Atsumu. His eyes granted no mercy as he stared at them burning in the little hell he created. Sakusa could see the reflection of the fire in his chocolate eyes. Knowing the reason, he sighed. It conveyed his feelings. His pent up fury.

The long silence was interrupted by a trivial question. “Have you ever thought of what you want to become as you grow older?” Atsumu wondered. He had never really heard or knew much about Sakusa despite having each other’s presence in existence for a while. He blinked, his long lashes brushed through the air. “I don’t know,” he simply replied. His voice so curt that Atsumu’s feelings were hurt. He clutched his heart with a pain expression to emphasise the dramatic. “Omi kun, y’know that’s not the answer I want,” he whined at him. There he goes again, Sakusa thought.  

Atsumu hummed as he looked at the fire “Y’know.., it has always been my dream to become an astronaut. What do ya think Omi kun?” Sakusa scrunched his face at the thought. “What should I think??” The only responsive thought he had for that confession was that it was unbelievable to be true. He thought he wanted to become a volleyball player and join the national team. Maybe get the hot girlfriend of his dreams while he’s at it. But an astronaut? Does he even have the grad-?

“Haha if only I had the grades. I can see it right through you Omi kun,” he smirked as he pointed the stick at him held by his fingers. “To bad I’m not a smartass like my twin brother. Such a nerd without glasses,” he murmured at the mentions of his twin.

“Achieving high grades doesn’t make you a stereotypical ne-“

“I said what I said, Omi kun. I said what I said”

Sakusa stayed quiet after that. He had nothing else to add after that mild conversation. His eyes lingered at the book lying on the grassy ground. Atsumu’s five year old diary. To this day, he still remembered the contents inked in those pages. Hinata and Bokuto saw them as well. He pitied Atsumu, but dared not to speak a word of it. In that diary, Atsumu undergone what you call affliction. Even now, it still disturbed them.

Beside them, they set up a telescope that they had recently bought. They got it after dodging that expensive price. Bokuto’s bargaining skills were useful. The trees waved side to side with the gusting wind. Sakusa’s dark curls wavered. They’ve always wanted to see the stars together. Earlier this day, they heard from the news that there was going to be a shooting star passing earth. It was very exciting as no one would ever expect to see something like this in their time of life.

There was a lot of things around their temporary property. Tents set up, sleeping bags, coats, stocks of food and drinks, you name it. They fully decided that they would never ever come back home. All of them hated where they came from. It just wasn’t for them.

At around five or six in the evening, the four of them were in school cleaning up toilets and classrooms. This was Sakusa’s nightmare. His duty was in the boys’ toilet. All the grime, stench, dirtiness tainted each cubicle he entered. He felt like regurgitating, but if he was going to faint, at least faint outside the bathroom. Nonetheless, he pushed through this hell and managed it somehow.

Suddenly, a burning smell wavered through the air and entered his nostrils, sending him to alarm. He rushed out of the boys’ bathrooms. His eye’s enlarged at the sight of flames eating the corridors. His mouth gaped as he stood petrified. What in the world?

Someone grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from danger. Sakusa turned around to see it was Bokuto. His heart was racing as he tried to process what the fuck just occurred. “Kotaro, what on earth is going on?!” He didn’t answer for a while until they’ve reached outside the burning school.

“It was Atsumu’s doing. He threw a cigarette in the bin and the bin caught on fire!” Bokuto used his arms to demonstrate the fire. Sakusa glared at Atsumu and grabbed him by the collar. “I know you hate this fucking place, but did you have to fucking burn down the school!?” Atsumu shoved him away from him. “So what if I fucking did?!” Sakusa’s eyes were filled with anger. Who goes to this extent from hatred? Especially from a teenager.

“You… YOU BASTARD!” he cursed at his selfishness. A punch swung onto Atsumu’s face and he fell to the ground in an instant. The blond head swiped the blood off his busted lips and gave him a deadly glare. Oh if looks could kill…He collided into Sakusa causing him to cough out his saliva. Therefore, a dog fight transpired between them. Sakusa had no care for the dirt sticking on to him as his only goal was to knock some god damn sense into Atsumu’s brain.

Hinata panicked and attempts to pull Atsumu away while Bokuto did the same for Sakusa. “Look we tried to extinguish it with a fire extinguisher! But it…it just wouldn’t work at all!” Hinata explained while he still held onto Atsumu. Sakusa’s brows furrowed. “Then what the fuck did you do then?” All three of them looked at each other. “We ditched it,” Bokuto shrugged his shoulders “It would go out”

Sakusa groaned in his clammy palms. Oh my fucking god…Since this happened, what’s gonna happen to them? Will they all get in to trouble? Obviously. Should they just mention that it was Atsumu’s fault and he shall bear the consequence? Or should all of them step out and stay along with the blond retard? Everyone remained quiet. Sirens were heard and police cars and fire brigade were approaching their way.

“Do you just want to go home and pack our stuffs secretly? We can buy that telescope we all wanted and watch the shooting star that’s coming tonight….”

And that’s how they ended up here, in the meadow deep into the woods where no one will find them. If they decided to give up on them, just like how the others would. Sakusa admitted that it was a beautiful scenery. Atsumu and he didn’t fight anymore. What’s done has been done. Everything happens for a reason.

Hinata and Bokuto arrived with more sticks cradled in their arms. They were dropped onto the beryl green grass. After that, Hinata plopped down and his chest heaving up and down “Oi no more. I’m tired from running around,” he waved his hand at him without looking at Bokuto. The owl-like man plastered a huge grin on his face “You lack strength, Chibi chan. C’mon toughen up those muscles,” Bokuto wacked his shoulders that sent Chibi forward. They laughed. Only the corner of Sakusa’s lips curved.

Boys in pain come together to diminish those pains.

A spark occurred in the middle of the dark sky. Hinata noticed this first and mirthfully swore “Guys I see it!” All of them ran to the telescope, even having little arguments of who should go first. It ended up being Atsumu. The rest of them quietened down and all they could do was admire. It was absolutely spectacular without a doubt. Not only was one shooting star but there a shower of them. A celebration perhaps?

“There’s so many of them! We should make a wish,” Hinata encouraged. All of them clasped their hands together with their eyes closed. Sakusa joined and he wished that he would have a happy life. That was all he wanted.  

“Atsumu…”

“……”

“Atsumu… is that other shooting star approaching us or am I losing my mind?” Hinata asked worriedly. His knees shook like jelly. “Atsumu...” His body quivered with uncontrollable nervousness. Atsumu didn’t say anything back but gulped. “Well aren’t you going to answer us?” Bokuto asked with a lump in his throat.

Sakusa gazed up, following the track of the star before it split into two after crashing a certain part of the atmosphere. He knew. Everyone knew, that it was bound to reach them any minute.

“Will be able to get out of here in time?” Bokuto asked fretfully, brushing his hands through his grey strands. It wouldn’t be called a shooting star anymore. It was meteorite. The little thing drew closer and closer each time they blinked.

They just knew they wouldn’t make it out in time…

Atsumu sighed. “I’m staying here. I have nothing in this world to live for,” he gazed up and muttered as salty essence well up his chocolate eyes. He said it quietly, yet it was enough to be understood. He walked around a log and sat down with his head hung low. It was getting closer. Hinata swiftly sat beside him with his arms wrapped around him. His eyes closed “I’m staying with you. Staying with you until the end. Who knows we might end up somewhere beautiful. A magical land called Us”

When he said those words, a tear rolled down from Sakusa’s glistening ebony orbs. All of them wanted that. For a long time. A magical land called Us. This world gave them so much pain to the point that they had to imagine a wonderful world.

Bokuto, who used to use happiness to shield his sadness, embraced the both of them. The three of them cuddled. Some sniffles and sobs were heard from their trembling lips. Sakusa patted the left side of his chest. He was breathing quite heavily. This was most emotion he had ever displayed.  All of them turned their heads to face him. Atsumu’s arm stretched out. He smiled wearily “Come with us”

A lot of thought rushed through his mind. His head went racing. Was this the right choice? Was this what he wanted? What he if he still want to liv-

Before he could move a muscle, a bright, yellowish light flared behind them. His eyes reflected the light. Everything happened so fast and after that, they…. vanished. Long forgotten in this world.

 -

 “A lot of things have happened during this week. Firstly, the “shooting star” also known as a meteorite, crashed in the meadow of (xxx) wood, the largest in this country. No one has expected this phenomenon to split into two and destroy so much nature. Even almost damaging some parts of nearby towns. Another talked about topic, is the burned down school at (xxx) province with four boys that attended that school, missing…”

 The little girl watched the enormous meteorite from afar. “Wah it’s huge,” she said as she dangled her tiny little legs. An ice cream was in her hands as she watched the workers inspecting the rock. Maybe they could extract minerals and become filthy rich. She took a lick of the ice cream. The wind was howling that evening. She enjoyed a vanilla ice cream during cold season.

“Y/n, come here!”

Her mother yelled. Y/n shouldn’t be out in the open. It was too dangerous, who knows what will happen. Y/n stood up from the edge of a cliff and admired the amber sky before realizing her ice cream dropped to the ground. Her mouth gaped in disbelief. She paid for that using her own money by collecting reusable garbage for hours. She exhaled and tossed the cone away.

“Y/n!”

“I’m coming mom. I’m coming,” she called back. She dusted her hands off her skirt and jogged on. There was a valley close by so she needed to be cautious otherwise she might roll off the cliff and that wouldn’t be good. However, as she took another step, her foot slipped and her face fell flat on the ground. Blood dripped down from her nostrils. “Great…”

Luckily for her, she had an extra packet of tissue deep in her pocket. She took a tissue out and wiped the blood off that dried. All of a sudden, from the corner of her eyes, she caught something shining in the grass. Curiosity aroused her and she moved closer to the object. Mother told her that she shouldn’t take or even touch something that’s not hers. It could bring bad luck.

Y/n didn’t remember her mother’s words when she picked it up. It was a silver necklace that took the shape of a key. “Wow…” she mumbled. It had a simple design to it, yet to her it was the most beautiful thing she had seen that day. The wind blew even harder as the wind whistled.

“Y/n! If you don’t come this instant, I will leave you here,” her mother called out for what seemed like the last time. Y/n shoved the object into her pocket and rushed to her parent. She shuddered. How cold was it? She wrapped her arms around her and rubbed for heat.

“Y/n, what happened to your nose?”

“I just fell”

“That’s karma for not listening to me for the first time. I just fell”

“MOM”

 -

 So this was what the afterlife looked like? It looked the same as their world, yet maybe more magical. In this world, there was only the four of them and no one else. It had everything they needed. It was tranquilized. The trees consisted of wisteria. All of their stuff that they had with them before their very last breaths was placed exactly the same way, same place. However, the boys weren’t there.

A burning door stood in the middle of the meadow. All of them watched it, sitting down with bittersweet smiles on their faces. Was it worth it after all? Atsumu was the first one to hop off his position and run out into the wild. His appearance changed. He took the form of a little boy and had a book about stars in his hands. Ten years of age. The last time he felt a sense of happiness before all crashed down. Hinata turned back to a fifteen year old and Bokuto, a twelve year old. It made Sakusa feel old. He remained the same after all their transformations. A seventeen year old.

The last time he felt happy was just a few months ago. Despite that, he never really intended to die. It was just a last minute wish he made that he regretted. He believed to have many things to do on his bucket list. It was too late somehow and he thought that this new life wasn’t bad after all. He could maybe tick them all of in this afterlife.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted a necklace. His brows furrowed at it and he leaned forward to capture it. Now it laid on his palm and began his inspection. It was an open door with no handle… He gulped. What was the meaning of this? If he was being honest, Atsumu didn’t have his grandma’s necklace with him. He started connecting the dots.

The fire stopped burning the door. He looked up and moved backwards. It was dark and the atmosphere couldn’t be anymore spookier. He whimpered and started to shake.

A little girl clad in a ripped strawberry dress. Her shoes dirtied. Her skin pale as snow. Her hair in a dishevelled state and her eyes were the worst. They were fully pitch black. And before Sakusa knew it, he ran as fast as he could and…

…never turned back.

The shooting star, after all, just granted their wishes. Without them knowing the consequences…

[lunariumarcs]

Dark Angel AU

Adaptation

Light Spinner woke up as the sun rose to light the kingdom. Her toes curled into her feet, stiff from cold. She ran a finger up the frigid bridge of her nose and shivered. A long, pale arm rested heavy across her belly. Her bare skin prickled when she slipped away from the blankets and pillows. Under a weak silencing charm, she dressed herself, grimacing as the fabric grazed the fresh marks across her body.

She stole a glance at the queen on her exit. Her majesty rolled over into a shallow pool of her own saliva. Light Spinner trapped the rage in her stomach and let it go with a gentle stream of air through her nose. The door closed behind her softly. The tiles in the hall froze the bottoms of her feet as she padded out past the guards. Her shoes had to be abandoned by the nightstand. They were too noisy for her stealth mission this morning. 

The guards nodded at her on her way. She nodded back, reeking of sex and sweat and shame and shadows. It was all for the game. Keep her majesty sated and content. Move one space at a time. Wait for the opportunity.

She locked her bedroom door and let her rumpled clothes fall to the floor. The hot water kept her teeth from chattering and cleared the frost bites. She cleaned herself and applied the healing salve to her entire body. Her tooth brush scraped away the after taste of extasy.

She opened the top of the toilet bowl and reached for a book wrapped in waxy leaves and sealed with twine. The thin garden rope slipped away and she gently removed the leaves. The book felt like sin in her hands, dry and restricted. Magic books were rare in the Brightmoon library. The queen horded them away in her chambers under a powerful lock spell. Light Spinner had found this one under one of the old chairs in the library, dusty and forgotten. She cracked it open to a marked section on perception spells. The scriptures and casting diagrams brought her comfort. They were like letters she had once written and forgotten about. Sometimes she whispered the incantations under her breath in the garden, too scared to ignite the magic that the words invited. Before she put the book back in the tank, she brought the open pages to her nose and inhaled deeply.

Nostalgia rushed through her brain, too quick to catch and identify. She inhaled again, wishing the air through her chest down to her toes.

She put the book back in the tank. At least now she had something in a realm of magic and titans and power.

After she dressed, she retreated barefoot to the garden. The sun warmed stones roughed her feet and the grass tickled her ankles. She smiled, finally, when she entered the greenhouse. 

After a few hours, a large cloud roved over the greenhouse. The plants started to shiver. A set of commanding footsteps made their way into the garden. Light Spinner stood at attention to the oncoming queen.

“Good morning, your majesty.” She bowed.

“You left me at dawn.” The Queen remarked.

“Ah my apologies. I wanted -”

“And you left these.” the abandoned shoes were summoned into Angella’s fingers.

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Evidently.”

Angella measured a stare at Light Spinner. The gardener gazed back, wondering if she should speak.

“Are you going to come take them or do I have to hold them forever?”

Light Spinner shook her head and forced several even steps towards her majesty.

“Closer, dear. The bites can’t be that bad.”

The gardener walked until she was in Angella’s personal space. She tried not to breathe too deeply. The Queen bent slightly to reach Light Spinner’s neck. Her breath tickled.

“You smell different.” the queen observed, pulling away, “Like lemon grass and honey.”

Light Spinner felt her heart quicken. Angella put a hand over her chest and smirked dangerously. Light Spinner knew better than to move away.

“I almost didn’t want to give you the shoes.” She whispered, “But we have guests in attendance this afternoon and I didn’t want to argue in front of them. It would bring shame upon your reputation. And I won’t have such a thing in my castle.”

“Of course, your majesty. I would hate to make our guests uncomfortable. May I please have my shoes?”

“Do you promise not to leave them behind again?”

“I... yes. I promise.”

“Good. Break that promise and next time you will swear on your own life.”

“I understand. Thank you for your discipline.” She could not look at her queen.

The queen smiled and trailed her hand up the gardener’s chest until it was tilting her head upwards.

“I appreciate your cooperation.” The queen whispered against bitten, chapped lips. She dropped the shoes as she strode out of the greenhouse. Only when she was fully gone did Light Spinner kneel for her shoes and put them on. She trembled as she cared for the rest of the plants.

“I’m sorry you all had to see that.” She whispered several times through the thickness in her throat. She washed her face with the garden hose and rinsed her mouth several times, pushing the water through the gaps in her teeth.

“I will learn the magic.” She said to a rose bush, “Even if she kills me for it. Will you hold me accountable? Will you help me master the art?”

The rose bush sent her warm feelings. None were emotions of compliance.

“I knew I should have asked the blue bells.”

“Yeah but the blue bells will say yes to anything.” A tiny voice spoke from behind her. The gardener startled away from her plant and wheeled around. A small child sat near a patch of daisies. She had strawberry blond hair, freckles and an adorable gap in her smile. She wore a traditional Plumerian green dress, woven from silk and chiffon. A lily blossom wove a crown into her hair.

“Good morning, your majesty. Enjoying the gardens?” She was not aware that Angella’s favoured guests would be royalty from Plumeria.

“Mhm. The plants say you’re the nicest person in the castle. Certainly nicer than that frozen witch, Queen Angella.”

“The queen can be a bit cold... but that’s not a reason to call her mean things.”

“I dunno, you just got done saying that she might kill you. And the merrigolds tell me that she’s real mean when you’re with her.”

“.... How old are you?”

“Probably like ten.”

“You mean you aren’t sure?”

“I’m giving a rough conversion from Plumeria’s unit of time.”

“Ah.”

“You have plant magic too, right? That’s why you talk to them?”

“I don’t have any magic - not since a tragic accident that left me badly injured.”

“Ok. And I’m not a Princess of Plumeria.” A large root emerged from the ground to carry her over to the gardener. She lay on her stomach across the barky surface. “But lets say that I am a Princess of Plumeria and that in this universe, you have magic.”

“... Ok. What then? What sorts of powers do I have?”

“You can make the plants bigger, make ‘em smaller. But its not a matter of forcing their size, its a matter of speeding up their biological stuff - make them absorb sunlight faster and convert it into adenda - aden - adenanine tri-phos-phate -”

“I think you mean Adenosine Triphosphate.”

“Yeah - this stupid science stuff is always dumb and complicated. But! It does come with cool powers. There are always positives to anything. After a while, you can just do it, without thinking of the complicated science speak.”

“That is very helpful, thank you.”

“I can send you some books! We can do botany together! Oh! I can teach you!”

Light Spinner smoothed the girl’s hair, “That sounds lovely. But you must remember that I don’t actually have magic and that you really are a Princess of Plumeria.”

She nearly argued with the gardener, when she realized the meaning hidden in her words.

“Oh, its a secret.” She whispered.

“Its a secret.”

“Cool. I’ve never had to keep a secret before! We never really keep secrets in Plumeria - my parents say it messes with the trust of the community or something. But don’t worry - I’ll keep it as safe as I can.”

“Thank you. Why don’t you go find your parents before they get worried?”

“Yeah, okay. Bye!” She skipped out of the greenhouse and the root replaced itself as she left. 

- this is unedited so rip if there are grammar. ill comeback to edit.

[merryfortune]

Day 10 / Electric

Clover and Violets 2021

Ship: not applicable | Kyoko/Hayami

Universe: Vrains

Word Count: 1,580

Rating: T

Tags: Post Canon, Meet Cute, Fluff, Implied Redemption Arc

   Hayami wasn’t good at meeting new co-workers. Not for lack of trying though, more like because of trying too much. She wanted to make a good impression. Even if it was a good impression on people who really got into the nitty-gritty of Sol Tech’s shadier dealings.

   So, she put on a big smile and she did what she did best: played the gopher.

   Not to brag or anything but she had gotten really good at making coffee these days. She made a mean dirty chai, in her opinion. She brought out five throwaway cups on a cluttered, wooden tray into the office chambers where they were having their meeting, as well as milk, cream, sugar, any topping they could really want: Hayami was doing her best to make their guests feel at home. Maybe even so much at home that they would drop the facade and use their real names. Akira told her not to be so hopeful but Hayami thought that a little bit of hospitality would go a long way.

   Regardless, she was the last one to walk into the room and Akira closed the door behind her, completing the soundproofing of the room. She smiled, big and gawky, as she set down the tray. And as she did so, she did a head count: their boss wasn’t here but the main entourage of this upper echelon on were, the only one missing aside from Revolver was his little assistant who had duelled Blue Angel.

   “Help yourselves.” Hayami said.

   “Don’t mind if I do.” nattered the man closed to her, he was about mid-thirties to early forties, glasses, and green hair.

   Hayami smiled. She then flicked her gaze to the other two, the other man and the only other woman aside from her,  made sure they were welcome to have some coffee as well. In the meantime, she took her own drink and sugared it to oblivion and beyond. The woman - with sharp cheekbones and devilish red hair - hid a giggle as she did that.

   “Are we all comfortable yet?” Akira asked.

   He sounded a little testy so Hayami made sure that he got his coffee promptly as well: he took it almost black, one sugar and a teaspoon of milk. He thanked Hayami with just his eyebrows before he took stock of the rest of the situation. It seemed so and thus, Akira began the meeting.

   And what a dull meeting it was, Hayami thought. It was dark inside the room and Akira’s voice droned; Hayami could have gone straight to sleep in her chair. Thank goodness she had the coffee. She wouldn’t have been able to keep her eyes open through it, and her mouth closed, too. It was all hypotheticals on top of hypotheticals; action plans for future action plans. Very ambiguous and open ended, she mostly just nodded and hummed in agreement whenever Akira said something she thought made sense or sounded good or if he just needed someone in his corner to back him up. 

   So yes, the meeting couldn’t end quick enough but when it did, there was time to linger. To get up, stand around, stretch their legs. The Knights of Hanoi mostly kept to themselves so Hayami took the chance to clean afterwards. She collected up the mostly empty throwaway cups and all the foodstuffs she had brought over in the first place but that Baira woman couldn’t let fine enough be. 

   Hayami was perfectly capable of doing it all by herself but she insisted. She glared, with pursed lips, and she tried to help Hayami when she did not want the help. The outcome was about what was expected. Hayami attempted to trod off with all of it in her arms; Baira tried to cut in and take some of her burden but Hayami refused with a smile and a mildly annoyed, furrowed brow.

   The two ladies engaged in an exceedingly polite warfare of push and pull and it ended with milk and cream going everywhere. Though, mostly it went all over Baira and that nice white jacket of hers.

   Hayami was stunned with her error and it was, mostly, her error. “I am so sorry.” she said. “I can pay for dry cleaning for you, if you like.”

   Baira laughed. “It's fine, I’ve been covered in worse.” Her laughter was coarse, barky, but jolly and good natured. “How about you just show me to the nearest restroom, huh, sweetie?”

   “Oh, yeah, totally.” Hayami chirped, stiffening up, she loved pet names and didn’t mind if they were used by near or virtual strangers.

   Hayami gathered up what was dropped and with Baira, they dawdled off. The nearest restroom was on the corner of the floor and they got cleaned up there. Hayami helped dab off stains on Baira’s coat, both thankful that it hadn’t been actual coffee that they had dropped on her.

   It felt odd for Hayami to pick up and bundle Baira’s coat but she seemed content to watch, observing Hayami with a sharp eye. Hayami blushed. She didn’t actually think she was that interesting but maybe she was.

   “There we go,” Hayami said, “all done.”

   “You’re good at this.” Baira said and she shrugged. “I’ll be the first to admit, cleaning, housekeeping, cooking: never been my forte, you?”

   “Love all of the above.” Hayami admitted, a little bit embarrassed.

   “You’d be a cute housewife, feeding the OL to wife pipeline, it's an important job.” Baira teased her.

   “Oh shut up.” Hayami playfully replied with a giggle but she toyed with her hair. “Its always been my dream to be a June bride, a bit old fashioned nowadays but I can’t help it.”

   “Better than my dream.” Baira shrugged. “But, like, no, really, if you go and get hitched, I think I’d miss you. Gets so dull being around men all the time. Like they just go on and on, like get to the point, mister or you're as bad as us misses.” 

   “I was thinking the same thing the entire time - and I like Akira.” Hayami laughed.

   Baira smirked. She was really taking a liking to this little lady - and not just because it felt good to be tall around one someone shorter than her.

   The two ladies finished up shortly after. And Hayami had to admit, she had really taken a liking to Baira as well. As mean as a woman Queen was, Hayami did miss having another woman about the office, especially one with sharp wit and the like. She was so socially awkward, having someone more extraverted and graceful about, whilst anxiety inducing, was the good sort.

   And the connection didn’t just stop there, oh no, it started and Hayami was having a hard time puzzling out Baira’s intentions. They seemed a little bit more than just friendly. She was a gift giver, it seemed. Only small things here and there and Hayami was making the point to return the tiny favours but some of the things Baira couldn’t help but unload were a bit odd. And none of them were her actual, literal name and whilst that information was out there on the big, bad internet, Hayami wanted to be entrusted with it on Baira’s terms and consent so she would wait.

   Wait whilst holding onto all those bits and bobs that Baira told Hayami reminded her of Hayami.

   Like hand sanitiser in a pink bottle. Cute, cleanly, and convenient. Hayami liked it but she thought it was a little strange. But not as strange as the extravagantly handled coffee mug that Baira had gotten her. The squirrel motif was a bit too on the nose for Hayami, she thought and the pun wasn’t all that great either. And then when Baira handed her the electric toothbrush, Hayami thought she had gotten the picture. 

   Hayami stared at the offending implement rather than the beautiful cityscape view in front of them, “You know,” she said, “if I didn’t know any better, I would say this was an invitation to move in with you. Or at the very least come over.”

   “I was wondering when you would get the picture.” Baira said with a laugh, happily gazing out to said cityscape in front of them but her eyes kept wandering back to Hayami. She was too cute and a lot more fun than the soiree they were both ignoring.

   “Oh.” Hayami murmured.

   “Oh, indeed.” Baira said. “But, well?”

   “Well, what?” Hayami said.

   “I have a key to an apartment I used to own, would you be interested in visiting?” Baira asked.

   “A little, yeah…” Hayami replied, a bit embarrassed and trying to play it coy.

   “Here, another gift then.” Baira said.

   Hayami looked up at Baira, still holding that darn electric toothbrush with one hand and extending out the other, and Baira dropped something in her palm. Her fingers swirled against the skin of Hayami’s palm flirtatiously and Baira gifted her a key complete with a keyring: one of those cow tag-like keyrings and it had writing on it.

   “Thank you.” Hayami mumbled.

   Baira smirked and Hayami had a closer look at the keyring. She blinked. Taki Kyoko. 103, 3F. Hayami’s heart fluttered.

   “I should give you directions there, yeah?” Kyoko asked. “So you don’t get lost, I mean, this party’s pretty boring and I was the bookworm in uni who never went anywhere but even this shindig’s boring me.”

   “I’d like that, thank you.” Hayami replied with a blush in her cheeks.

[ofheroesandvillains]

First Impressions - Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes/Fem!reader

Words: 1.5k (a super short one for once!) Warnings: None. I’ve posted something similar to this years ago, so if it seems familiar that’s why :) Summary: Bucky meets his girl’s parents for the first time.

(Gif not mine!)

When you’re done swimming please don’t forget to take the wine out of the freezer, I love you! 

Those were the final instructions you had given him before you went to pick your parents up from the airport. It was the first time he would be meeting the people that had given him the incredible woman he’d been dating for the past 6 months. No pressure.

The early morning had been spent cleaning your house - you wanted it all perfect for your parents after not seeing them for so long. You had reassured him that they were nice, friendly people and that he had nothing to worry about…and then you gave him a long list of things to do that made it seem like he definitely did have something to worry about.

“It’s okay, they’ll love you! Just be yourself…well, maybe not, I mean…be yourself, just maybe dial down the sarcasm…and don’t make any sex jokes, definitely no to the sex jokes. In fact, maybe don’t even mention sex, or touching, or…beds?”

He snorted. “Don’t mention beds? Damn, I was really looking forward to that conversation.”

“See that? That was the sarcasm I was talking about.” You looked at him pointedly, but couldn’t help but chuckle when he shot you that million dollar grin.

Their flight would be landing just after midday so Bucky has spent a few hours in the pool, enjoying the warm, sunny day and getting lost in his thoughts after putting his washing out to dry. His future in-laws (and hell yeah he was certain of that fact) were from Chicago, and if they were anything like their daughter, then Bucky was looking forward to meeting them. It would be nice to finally-

Oh no…

He cringed when he heard a shout come from over the fence. If there was one thing he didn’t like about your house, it was your neighbour. Your young, single, male neighbour who Bucky was convinced took any opportunity he could to interact with his girl. The only thing Bucky disliked more than him, was the annoying pug that he'd released into the backyard. The very same pug that would somehow ‘magically’ find its way into your backyard all the damn time. And if by some chance it did manage to stay in its own yard, it would never stop barking.

Bucky wasn’t stupid, he knew what the neighbour was trying to do. Every time the dog ended up in your yard, he would have an excuse to look over the fence and flirt with you. Sometimes the little pest would even steal things and carry them back home too! Ugh. He hated them both.

Not this time, pal. 

Bucky closed his eyes and sighed in irritation when he heard the familiar yapping. So much for relaxing before they arrive, he thought. With another dramatic sigh, Bucky paddled his inflatable donut to the steps of the pool, before getting out and drying off. It was nice having some time off from training and travelling with the team. 

Bucky didn’t get to see you as often as he would like, but he was working up the courage to change that. He’d been wanting to ask you to move in with him for a long time, but this was his first serious relationship and he didn’t know when it would be appropriate.

The timing felt right, it’d felt right for a while…but he didn’t want to freak you out, even if you were usually the calmest person he knew. You would say yes, he was almost 100% sure of it, but it was the ‘what if’ that made him hesitate.

But that wasn’t his concern at the moment. Instead, he took the wine out of the freezer and made his way upstairs for a shower. Usually you would stay at his place, so he didn’t keep too many of his things at your house…which was probably why he had completely forgotten to take a change of clothes with him into the bathroom. Earlier in the morning he’d washed all of the clothes he kept in his designated draw of your dresser and put them all out to dry in the warm sun.

He groaned at the thought of going back downstairs. With a towel hastily thrown around him, Bucky made his way outside and started gathering his clothes. It was all well and good…until he felt the towel being viciously ripped from around his hips. He dropped the pile of clothes with a startled yelp and quickly stomped on the edge of the towel to stop the little monster from getting away.

“Oh no you don’t!” Bucky growled.

The pug was practically foaming at the mouth as it growled right back, eyes bugging out and angry that Bucky was putting up a fight. It was no match for his strength, but the damn thing was so stubborn he could hear its paws scrapping against the large tiles in resistance. He could also hear the edges of the towel tearing, and the pug went stumbling back when it was finally ripped out of its mouth.

“Aha! Got it, you little mutt!” 

Bucky held the towel over his head in victory, that wide loveable grin on his face. The pug scampered away, and Bucky froze in his tracks when he turned and noticed the three new faces staring at him from the other side of the glass sliding door. His girlfriend’s jaw had all but hit the floor, and while that was usually the reaction he was going for when naked, the sight of the two people behind you had him quickly wrapping the towel back around his hips. He must have been 10 different shades of red when he realised that your parents, the ones he was meeting for the very first time, had seen him…all of him.

Bucky could have sworn that your mother’s startled gasp echoed throughout the whole neighbourhood, and then she was collapsing into the arms of the man beside her. Your dad cried out in panic, finally drawing your attention attention. You still didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the fact that you’d just witnessed your man locked, butt-naked, in the most intense game of tug-of-war you’d seen to date.     

“Bucky…”

“Uhhh…I can explain?” He tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

Steve was never gonna let him live this one down.

“You know, that went a lot better than I thought it would. I think they like me.” 

Bucky smiled, looking awfully self-satisfied. You knew he was just glad that his little show hadn’t condemned him in the eyes of your parents. They were actually very cool people, he found out - that must have been where you got it from. They had even joked about the whole situation all night long.

“Yeah? I’d like you too if you showed up on my doorstep naked when we first met.” You joked, settling into bed beside him.

“Hey, you said not to mention sex, or touching, or beds…and I didn’t.” He smirked and pulled you into his arms, your head resting on his chest.

“Oh, I’m sorry that ‘don’t play naked tug-of-war with the neighbour’s pug’ wasn’t on the list, I’ll be sure to add it next time.” You laughed sweetly and pressed a kiss to his bare chest. 

“At least you gave Lawrence a good show…” You nodded your head in the direction of your neighbour’s house even though neither of you could see it. 

“He’s been asking me to set him up with a sexy superhero for months.” You raised your brows pointedly.

Bucky eyes widened.

“Wha-? You mean he’s…?”

You laughed at his bewildered expression. “Of course! Why else would he always send his dog over here? You know he named that thing ‘Barky’ to match your name, right?”

Bucky snorted, unable to hold back a laugh.

“And that is one of the many reasons you should move in with me.” He held his breath for a moment, not knowing where that came from. He hadn’t even thought about it since morning, but it was out there now.

“Oh I don’t think that’s such a good idea…” There was a teasing tone to your words that made him silently sigh in relief. You propped yourself up on his chest to look up at him. 

“My mom is already convinced that ‘that well-endowed boy’” he snorted, “will have me pregnant by the summer.” You added in a scandalous whisper. 

“She did not say that.” He laughed in astonishment.

“You have no idea…don’t worry, I told her you wouldn’t know how to use that thing even if you tried-ah!” Bucky quickly flipped you over, admiring the stunning smile he was graced with and cutting your laugh short with a kiss.

“Liar.” He whispered against your lips. “But if you need a little convincing, I’m all for a demonstration...” He cocked a brow, never one to back down from a challenge. You smiled.

“Mhm…consider it a reward for helping me pack tomorrow.”

[queen-scribbles]

Soulbound

For @pillarspromptsweekly fill 96: Soulbound. This one was just screaming to be filled in Emiri’s canon, if not, technically, with Emiri herself. I went really literal with the definition of “soulbound” and took advantage to write more with Saoirse and Elihu. :D

--

Ruin though it may have been, Caed Nua still held more than enough of interest for Saoirse and Elihu to return several days in a row as soon as they had the chance. They explored, Saoirse had long conversations with the Steward, hearing stories from Caed Nua’s prime, when her soul had inhabited not an elf with cinnamon brown curls but an aumaua moon godlike who loved the place so fiercely she restored it twice. So fiercely the ache of it carried over to Saoirse herself, reawakened as she listened and explored. The library, of course, she’d already seen; books crumbling to dust and the adra mosaic on one wall cracked and missing tiles. But there was much more to be seen, even if some rooms required shifting rubble to access. Elihu was all to happy to help with that, glad to be useful despite lacking her talent for magic.

Most of the rooms held only moldering beds or dry-rotted desks and shelves, but every once in a while they would find something interesting. A wizard’s grimoire, the pages brittle and only half-full. A silver bracelet, tarnished deep grey and etched with heraldry nether recognized. The barracks and armory were the most barren yet; picked clean by looters and bandits centuries ago, soon as the place stood empty.

“Wow, there really is nothing here,” Saoirse muttered, surveying the empty armory. “I kind of thought Steward mighta been speaking figuratively, y’know? Only fancy or valuable stuff taken, but nope, this really is picked clean.”

“That’s what happens to abandoned castles, Saoirse ,” Elihu said with a chuckle. “Gods, with how long our people have spent shooing estramowrn away away from our ruins, I wouldn’t think that would surprise you.”

“I’m not really surprised,” she said defensively, raking hair out of her eyes.  “Just... maybe had been hoping to find... I dunno, something.”

He cocked his head, mossy brows arching. “You really care about this past life of yours.”

“Well, yeah, she’s me, El. And the way Steward talked about her, she sounds like she was a pretty great person. I just think having.... something of hers would be neat.” Saoirse sighed. “Clearly no luck on that front here. C’mon, let’s go look at that cottage--Brighthollow, I think Steward called it?--and see what we can find there.”

“Sounds good.” Elihu reached up to wipe off the cobwebs tangled around one of his horns as he followed her toward the door. His attention divided, he tripped over a beam and dislodged something from underneath it with a ting.

Saoirse paused in the hall. “You alright?”

“Yes.” Elihu bent to retrieve the object he’d kicked loose, which proved to be a dagger. “Guess they didn’t get everything...” he mused as he half-unsheathed the blade. He made a face. “Though I can see why this got left behind.”

She craned her neck for a better look and had to agree with him. The leather wrapped around the hilt was cracked and frayed, the blade tarnished and dull. It looked utterly worthless. “Odd she kept it to begin with if it was in such bad shape...”

“At least this can be your something,” Elihu pointed out, sliding the dagger back into its sheath. He carefully picked his was around the beam to join her in the hallway.

Saoirse gave a soft laugh as she nodded, but something deep in her chest twisted as he leaned close to kiss her on the cheek and tuck the dagger in her belt. She’d been about to point out ‘If this dagger was even hers,’ but that twist had been eerily similar to the ones she’d felt on her first visit. It had probably been hers.

“Maybe you’re right,” the young dwarven woman sighed, wiping sweat off her brow with the back of one hand. “Even if Master Engrim didn’t catch on, I would know.” She gave an almost longing look at a beautifully crafted forge hammer that sat nearby. “Here, take this as thanks or payment or whatever.” She held out a well-crafted, if very simple, dagger. “For keeping me from a mistake.” Once the dagger was taken, she turned back to her anvil and got to work once work.

Saoirse blinked as the image faded, and realized guiltily that she’d dug her fingers into Elihu’s arm. And while his barky skin meant the gesture hurt less than it would for most, she knew he was concerned whenever she had one of those memory moments. “I’m fine,” she said automatically, before he even opened his mouth.

“Good to hear, but it’s still unsettling,” Elihu said, covering her hand with his as she loosened her grip. “It’s not like experience with Awakened souls is common, love. Every time you start staring out into space like that it makes me wonder if need to slap you to get you back.”

She laughed, tugging him into motion back down the hallway. “Only if I get stuck for, mmm... five minutes or more.”

“Noted, but hopefully won’t ever be necessary.”

She laughed again at his dry tone before they squeezed through the rubble at the top of the stairs again and carefully made their way down. Saoirse was rubbing some new bruises when the Steward’s voice rippled through the air again.

“Ah, you found it!” She sounded delighted. “That dagger was one of Lady Emiri’s favorite weapons. I thought ruffians had made off with it ages ago.”

“Really? This??” Saoirse brushed her fingers against the sheath. It was hard to believe anyone had actually wielded the tarnished blade within, let alone loved it.

“That’s tarnishin’ awful fast, Mir. You sure Masca didn’t pull a fast one on ya?” floated through her mind, accompanied by a half-there image of the dagger, in better shape but still going dull, a rough scratch that was maybe a rune of some kind marring the blade.

The vision was broken when the Steward laughed. “Don’t let looks fool you, dear. That’s quite a valuable blade you carry, though it has seen its share of use.”

“I’m sure it did, if it was a favorite,” Saoirse muttered. “We were gonna go poke around Brighthollow for a while before it gets dark, anything special we should know about it?”

“I don’t know if you’ll be able to reach the upper floor,” the Steward said, after a moment’s pause. “It’s been a long time, and I am unsure of the stairs’ condition.”

“The warning’s appreciated,” Elihu said with a nod. “Any critters moved in?”

“Some, yes, though I cannot read their intent. I would be cautious,” the Steward warned.

“Again, appreciated.” He half-bowed to the carven throne, and Saoirse felt the air shimmer with pleased amusement from the Steward as he reached for her hand. “Come on, if we need to be careful, this will take extra time.”

“Yep.” Saoirse half-skipped to close the small distance between them and take his hand. They were both quiet until halfway across the distance, when she got tired of the silence and asked, “What’re you thinkin’ about?”

“Still trying to wrap my head around the knowledge you used to be... that the person who was in charge of... of all this” --Elihu waved his free hand at the surrounding ruin--”is-is you now.”

“If you start ‘m’lady’ing me, I am going to slug you in the arm,” she informed him dryly.

“Well, you’ve always been that,” he said with a mischievous smile, raising her hand to kiss the back of it. “But I’ll save titles for when you’re in a position that requires them. Til then, it’ll be your name or various terms of endearment.”

She laughed and squeezed his hand. “I think I can live with that.”

“Good-” Elihu’s smile vanished at a rustle in the bushes, both of them giving the ragged hedges their full attention. All that emerged was a pair of squirrels tussling over an acorn, but the air around Saoirse went hazy even as she relaxed.

Despite the light tarnish she couldn’t get to go away, the blade still broke skin easily enough. The bandit shrieked in pain as the dagger pierced his chest, but even if she hated that it had come to this, she wouldn’t feel too guilty. They had attacked her home, tried to hurt her friends, and there were few sins greater than that. The bandit fell, last of the threat to Caed Nua, to Aloth, to Sagani, Kana... everyone she cared about. She wiped blood off the dagger’s blade with part of her already-ruined sleeve and caught her breath. It might have been a trick of the torchlight, but the blade looked even more tarnished, more dull, than when the fight started. Maybe Edér had been right... but it fit so well in her hand and few things did, so she didn’t want to give it up. As she turned the blade to examine it in the torches’ glow, she noticed that another scratch, this one definitely a rune of some kind, had appeared in the metal.

Saoirse came out of this one to Elihu gently shaking her shoulders. “I’m alright, I’m alright,” she said dizzily, blinking away lingering fog, as she covered his hands with hers.

He let out a breath shaky with relief and kissed her forehead. “Good thing; you were about thirty seconds from getting slapped in the face.”

“There’s no way it’s been five minutes!” she protested, wrinkling her nose at him.

“Felt like it,” Elihu muttered, letting his hands drop from beneath hers. He intertwined his fingers with hers once more and tugged toward the cottage doorway.

The lower floor of what had once been called Brighthollow was indeed overtaken with vines and other foliage, and there were definitely animal eyes staring at them from a few spots, Saoirse could feel them. But underneath it all, there was still something of the well-crafted, homey feel the place had originally captured. She and Elihu carefully explored what they could; stepping over vines and steering clear of the more obvious nests, until they’d run out of things to look at- long before Saoirse’s curiosity was sated.

“I really wanna look upstairs,” she admitted.

Elihu gave her a dubious look and shoved against the banister. A large chunk splintered inward, scattering a swarm of burrower-insects across the steps. “I don’t think that’s wise. This whole place is made of wood, Saoirse. If it’s all in this condition, every step could break through the floor, and I don’t fancy breaking bones.”

“Look, El, from what I’ve, y’know, seen, aumaua used to live in this place. If the floor can hold them, I think even dry-rotted it’ll be alright for a couple elves.”

“Oh, fine. You can go first, though.” He gestured up the stairs with a flourish.  “Since you’re lighter.”

“Happily.” Despite her flippancy, Saoirse did test each step before giving it her full weight. A couple gave slightly, but all held. “See? It’s fine.”

Elihu followed her up even more cautiously, but the stairs held for him as well.  “You know we don’t have long in here before it gets dark...?”

“I know.” Saoirse tucked her hair back behind her ears. “Let’s see what we can, though.”

It was somewhat slow going, testing each step before they took it, and some floorboards creaked alarmingly. There wasn’t much to be seen, either, as most of the rooms had been overtaken by flora and fauna. She “lost” Elihu a couple times, his skin and hair proving perfect camouflage in these surroundings. One room near the front now resembled an aviary--several different kinds of birds had made nests in the creeping vines and remnants of furniture. Saoirse beat a hasty retreat from that one, chased by a pair of jays who did not want their babies disturbed.

After leaving the room, she wandered down the hall, past a set of broken down bookshelves, and was met with a fallen-in door. Closer inspection revealed it was slightly nicer than the other doors in this place. This of course piqued Saoirse’s curiosity and she tried to squeeze through a gap between the fallen door and its frame.

The room on the other side was larger, she noted. There was one larger bed, rather than being shared quarter like the others. What was left of the furniture was nicer, including the large--if moldering--desk and the fireplace. Something in her soul pulsed with familiar warmth at the sight, and suddenly Saoirse was seeing the room as if through past eyes.

A warm fire crackled on the grate, the coziness and dancing light almost enough to make her forget her frustration. “I don’t understand,” she groused, digging the dagger’s point into her desk and glaring at the rusty, scratched up blade. “I take care of it, I clean it after every fight. Made my hand cramp, how much I polished it last time. And still this.” She released the badly-frayed grip and it clattered over, too dull to stick even in the soft wood. “I’m beginning to wonder if these runes are some sort of curse.”

“That wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibility,” a voice said from off to the side. The speaker’s name stuck in her memory for only a moment. “You did talk Masca out of something that, while perhaps unethical, would have greatly increased her smithing abilities. Perhaps a dagger enchanted to... wear itself out faster than normal is her idea of repayment.”

“She didn’t seem the type,” she protested. She set the dagger’s point against her desk again and spun it idly, both flummoxed and irritated when it didn’t make a mark.

“Emiri,” he said with a fond smile, “you never think anyone seems the type.”

She leaned back in her chair, still studying the dagger. “And I’m usually right, Aloth.”

“You are,” he nodded. “But I hate the thought of you being hurt thanks to a rare occasion where you were wrong. Perhaps it’s time to select a new dagger? One that will keep its edge and actually be useful.”

“Maybe,” she sighed, absently petting the dog who had nuzzled into her lap. “But if this one’s under a curse or something, I’d rather break that than pick a new one.” She picked off bits of dried, sloughing leather and wrapped her hand around the hilt. “D’you how hard it is to find things that are a comfortable fit in aumaua-sized hands here? And I’ve been using it for a while. I hate to switch...”

He chuckled and tucked hair behind one ear. “Always sentiment over practicality with you.”

“Of course,” she laughed. “It’ll pay off some day...”

Saoirse’s awareness returned to her just as Elihu wriggled through the same door and frame gap she’d used to gain entrance. She blinked a few times, still staring at the desk, now bleached and rotting. There was something familiar about that elf, and not just because she’d ‘seen’ him in the library when she Awakened. But that was a puzzle for later. For now, Elihu was looking at her with curiosity that verged on concern even as he picked bits of rotted wood out of the moss and flowers growing along his scalp.

“This must’ve been her room,” Saoirse said, ignoring his unspoken question.

“How can you tell?” He scraped a fingernail through the moss spotting the armoire.

“Well, she was the Lady in charge, this room is nicer....” She sighed and raked her curls back from her face. “And I had another... flashback, or whatever you want to call it.”

“Again?” Elihu’s eyes narrowed. “That’s what, the third or fourth one since we got here?!”

“El, I’m walking around her home, which she loved enough to restore from rubble twice, with what was apparently her favorite dagger tucked in my belt, of course Emiri’s going to be drawn to the surface more.” Saoirse crossed to his side and cupped his cheek in one hand. “Just because I’m seein’ her memories doesn’t mean I’m any less me.” The thought hit her like a boulder. “In fact, everything I’ve remembered today has been about the dagger. It got to lookin’ like this despite her takin’ good care of it. She thought it might be cursed or something.”

“And you still want to keep it?” He pulled back to look at her incredulously.

“Yes, b’cause it’s a link to her, and she said if it was cursed, she’d break it. With how determined she was, I’d bet my ceremonial robes she succeeded.”

Elihu snorted. “Don’t let your father hear you say things like that. He already grumbles about you shirking your responsibilities to explore. If he thinks you’re not taking them seriously, he might give them to someone else.”

“He won’t,” Saoirse said, maybe a little too quickly, as her heart skipped a beat. Would he? Worrier he might be where she was concerned, Elihu was also realistic. The things he worried about tended to fall inside the realm of possibility. “He knows I value our history. And b’sides, that’s sort of what we’ve been doing; discovering history. Even if it’s just my personal history. From a few cycles ago.”

“Compelling an argument as that is,” Elihu smiled, “I think we need to call it a day on discovering your history.” He nodded toward a hole in the wall that had probably  been a window. The light was noticeably fainter and tinted heavily orange.

“Right.” Even as she agreed she was reluctant to leave. There was so much more to see here, but she had responsibilities at home the next several days, which drove her to wring every last bit out of today’s explorations. She wandered over to the hole and peered out. “Hey, there’s lots of heavy vines over here, we could probably climb down the wall if you don’t wanna risk the stairs again?”

Elihu glanced toward the collapsed door. “And not squeezing back through there would also be nice.” He joined her. “I’ll go first this time. Only fair.”

They both knew his connection to nature also meant he’d have an easier time finding a safe path down, which Saoirse could then follow. She nodded and stepped aside. Elihu was through the hole and down the wall in no time, and the way down didn’t seem too hard to follow. Saoirse followed him quickly, slipping just a little near the bottom.

Goodbye, Steward, she thought as she and Elihu headed for the ruined gate.

Goodbye Saoirse, the Steward’s voice echoed in her mind. I look forward to your next visit.

It might be a while, she warned apologetically.

A soft chuckle. I’m not going anywhere, dear.

Saoirse smiled at that as she and Elihu picked their way back across the river. If this is going to become a regular thing, maybe I should make a bridge... She could think of several ways to do it with varying levels of permanence. 

“Long day, huh?” Elihu commented. He settled one arm around Saoirse’s shoulders as they walked through the forest.

“But productive,” she said with a smile.

“Oh, yes, we found some odds and ends worth salvaging, a rusty knife, and picked up several new bruises in the process,” he said teasingly. “Very productive.”

“To me it was,” Saoirse countered, dodging a tree branch. “That rusty dagger is a strong link to Emiri, who you know I’m curious about, so to me it is worthwhile. I don’t care how useless it looks.” She drew the blade to get a better look at it, or started to.

The second her hand curled around the dagger hilt, the metal warmed under her touch and the air around them seemed to ring with the echoes of a high, clear bell that pierced down to Saoirse’s soul.  She froze in her tracks. Slowly, almost gingerly, she slid the blade free of its sheath.

And both she and Elihu gaped, for the weapon in her hand bore no resemblance to the worthless piece of metal he’d found in the armory. The blade was bright and polished steel, shining like silver, the dark leather around the grip firm and smooth. All in all, a piece of masterful craftsmanship anyone would be proud to own.

Elihu whistled. “Maybe not a curse, but there was definitely a spell of some kind involved there.”

“Look!” She held up the dagger, dull and tarnished blade now gleaming silver-bright. Her friends all raised eyebrows and whistled, and Kana gave her a wide smile.

“I knew there was some magic to it,” he chuckled. “And it seems fitting for you to have a blade most would cast aside turn out to be of immeasurable worth.”

“Very poetic.” She--former slave, now Lady of Caed Nua and traveling with the family she’d found--laughed and fought down the urge to kiss him on the cheek. As a distraction, she turned her attention back to the dagger, running her thumb over the runes that decorated the blade.

Saoirse smirked and indulged the impulse Emiri had quashed, pushing up on her toes to kiss Elihu on the cheek. “Thank you all the more for finding this. It’s a very fitting memento.”

He smiled crookedly. “You’re welcome.”

She studied the blade a moment more, noting the runes as well, then returned it to the sheath. Their meaning trickled from her memory and Saoirse smiled as she nudged Elihu back into motion. Very fitting memento indeed.

“Weather, die, and be born anew, free of old labors.”

[trahearnetrash]

1, 3, 15, and 17 for Alaritheis, Luaineach, and Saesol?

1. Love

✴Alaritheis feels very intensely. They can be quite suspicious of people, but they really are deeply in love with life and the cosmos in general. It oozes out when they’re just taking a walk, feeling the sun, seeing a bird, saving a bug. They’re all smiles then, no matter how dark everything is otherwise. This is what makes Al themselves, keeps them going, makes them protect any living thing that needs protection: love, and believing in others’ ability to feel it too.

✴Luaineach isn’t too interested in romance. Not that he’s rejecting the possibility, but love isn’t really one of the things he identifies with - or showing emotion in general. He’s not incapable of feeling it, but very unlikely to show it, at least for as long as he believes in intellect and rationality over feelings. To Luaineach, vulnerability is shameful, and love makes you even more vulnerable than any other emotion.

✴Saesol has heard the word “love” over and over so many times from Raelric lamenting his forsaken affairs that it’s starting to feel like a hollow concept to her from time to time - romantic love, at least. That disillusion is usually mended by just seeing Laranthir, whom she has a huge crush on - and she admires how much he believes in love, and all those four letters stand for.

3. Hopes

✴Saesol in her private life outside of being a tactician is great at getting her hopes up, too great, perhaps. Whether she’s crushing on someone, playing dice or just thinking about whether the sun will shine tomorrow, she tends to secretly assume the best has to happen. It doesn’t couple well with her pessimism and anxiety and produces unrealistic expectations for herself and others that often result in disappointment and feelings of being betrayed by the world.

✴Alaritheis and hope have had a rough past in the anet-canon timeline. They once had Sae’s romantic worldview, but it died with Trahearne. Still, they keep getting up every morning to risk their life in order to save whatever there is left to save at this point, even when they’re miserable and tired of existence. Whether to keep this last, tiny but enormously important shred of hope is not a choice for them, it never has been.

✴Luaineach believes that hope is the best way to get yourself killed. Rather than hoping for this or that, analyse a situation and figure out your odds. If they are very clearly stacked in your favor, continue, if not, move on, figuratively or literally. But who knows - there may yet be hope for him.

15. Hands

✴Luaineach spends a fair amount of time with his hands somewhere in his field of view, and although he usually wears gloves, he keeps them clean and groomed at all times (i magine sylvari have bark instead of fingernails). He doesn’t actually like touching things with his bare hands at all, and when he really, really has to, he will spend his last water ration on washing them immediately afterwards.

✴Saesol’s hands are the first thing to overheat when an emotion becomes overwhelming, which has been the end of more than one book. Since she’s a warmaster-rank tactician, though, the Vigil library can’t exactly just ban her. In any case, she’s accidently burnt other people’s hands as well, which makes her very ashamed. She tried wearing gloves, but they just melted and became what they are now - at least, with their oozing lava, they’re good for punching, and when push literally comes to shove, Sae is not above that.

✴Alaritheis finds hands to be both beautiful and informative. How people hold them, what movements they display can help tremendously in reading others, a skill that’s become vital to Al as the Commander. While she dislikes being touched herself (unles she views you as family) to the point of experiencing physical pain from so much as something grazing her shoulder, she likes using this sensitivity to explore, with her hands, and the same respect for boundaries she would like others to have with her. Dragging her fingertips over the page of a book, examining a cool rock or piece of wood, petting a cat or cradling a butterfly that got lost indoors - touch helps Al connect to the world around her on a personal level. (Needless to say, she’s always loved to play with Trahearne’s hands or just run hers through his hair, or his cheek.)

17. Scars

✴Luaineach’s scars are mostly on his hands and knees. The knee ones he owes to the sniper position he spends so much time in even kneepads can’t entirely protect him from the occasional wound when he dodges in this stance. The hand and lower arm ones, well. He won’t tell you that. (It’s petting stray cats and not knowing how to pet them without violating their privacy.) And then there’s the one time an old stone floor gave in under his weight during a Priory mission and broke his right leg so badly the bone went through his skin - that left a mark, too.

✴Saesol’s limbs are largely covered in bark, having burnt and then scarred when she fell into lava as a sapling, during a dare. She only survived that accident by courtesy of her elementalist magic. Most of the skin on her torso, ears and neck as well as her upper thighs has healed to the point of being more or less normally sensitive, but anywhere else, including her face, she can barely feel anything. It sucks, of course, and doesn’t help her confidence, but she takes a little pride in being quite pain resistant around the barky areas. You could stab her wrist and she’d burn your face without beating an eye.

✴Alaritheis has a few significant scars at this point, and a bunch of insignificant ones she doesn’t even keep track of anymore. The most prominent ones are the very large cleft that runs diagonally across her torso with burnt skin all around it, left by the lethal wound that Balthazar’s sword tore. She also has two patches of burnt skin above and below her left knee, as well as two craters in her calf of the same leg. Both sets of wounds are courtesy of Balthazar’s hounds. Ever since those, Al has become even more of a cat person (though she still likes dogs.)Actually, I’ve been working on a piece that features some of Al’s scars, so stay tuned for that!

Oh god I wrote a whole damn lot, didn’t I?,, Thank you so much for letting me rant, aaaa

[hiyo-silver]

Ben Hanscom Grows Up - Beverly

Summary: Ben adjusts to his new life in Derry, Maine.

Chap 1 + AO3 + My Masterlist

Taglist: @fuckboykaspbrak @thesquidliesthuman @starboystan @rachi0964 @shewasthewind @beepbeep-losers @bigbilliamdenbro @jalenrose1122 @sleepygaybrough @itandstrangerthingsfanfic @boopboopbichie @peachywyatt @aizeninlefox @sockwantstodie

Ben soon learns that in his move to Derry, his cousin is the least of his worries. The town has a lovely little library run by a sweet old woman that definitely likes him based on how many mints she gives him. He shares a room with his cousin but his cousin is hardly ever home, so Ben still gets the time to himself.

The one problem though, it's hard to make friends in a small town. Even worse, a kid named Henry Bowers. He's about a year older than Ben but he'd been held back so he's in Ben's class which leaves Ben constantly on edge in the one place he should feel safe.

He doesn't know how to make it better, being much too shy in being new to tell the teacher though he wishes he could.

The problem isn't even being made fun of, it's what they say to him. They especially make fun of his slowly increasing weight. He's always eaten about the same but now that he's been left mostly friendless he hasn't been getting out and exercised as much as he used to.

Another targeted feature of his is his thick Texan accent, he doesn't sound like anyone there and kids are cruel to differences. He's taken to not talking much, keeping to himself.

School is something he still finds solace in. Weekdays are much better than weekends, his mom works all days of the week and school helps distract him from his cousin and his slightly too open mouthed aunt with opinions that definitely don't help him.

He speeds through his essays and through his books but especially he loves math. Geometry is his favorite, figuring things with shapes is the most fun subject in what he'd call his own humble appearance.

In his spare time, now, he likes to build things with that knowledge. He'd get scraps of wood from the yard and put together things like benches and the occasional chair, never much too sturdy but at least he gets the measurements exact.

A few weeks into the school year Ben notices a ginger haired girl who sits across the room from him. She smiles only sometimes and sometimes she raises her hand and when she puts it down, her sleeve riding up enough to reveal a garden of bruised skin under the flowery fabric.

People aren't very nice to her either, he doesn't understand how they could be so cruel to her. She doesn't deserve it like he does. Finally he picks up on her name from a time she's called on. Beverly Marsh, a beautiful name that he can't wait to say to himself when he's alone. The way the vowels and syllables slide off his tongue, making her feel even more beautiful.

One day, he's reading a book as he walks down the path to go home after the hours of school on a warm autumn Friday. He's not looking where he's going and he bumps right into her.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry," she says sheepishly, brushing her dark red bangs behind her ear, her green eyes wide with apology.

"Oh no, it's my fault, I wasn't looking," Ben says quickly, the words tumbling and tumbling off his tongue in his embarrassment, turning nearly as red as the bangs she'd moved to reveal more of the face be admires so much.

"I'm Beverly Marsh, and you're Ben, right?" She asks with a sweet smile, not one to enjoy an endless blame game unless it's with someone she hates, and she's winning.

"Ben Hanscom, yeah," he responds breathlessly, folding over his page and closing the book, holding it over his stomach in his insecurity.

Beverly looks down enough to notice but chooses not to say anything, knowing how it feels to want to hide something about physical appearances. She can't help but to think about the bruise on her arm that she got for not cleaning up her toys. God forbid someone asked, though she knows that many people have probably seen it. She doesn't know what hurts more, the mark itself or the fact that nobody seems to care that it's there.

"Well Ben Hanscom, I'm really very sorry for bumping into you, and I'll see you on Monday," she says with a smooth smile, tightening the bow tied in her hair, the silky red ribbon falling daintily with the lock of hair.

Ben finally releases a breath he'd been holding as she walks away, running a hand through his own hair, a messy bowl cut that his aunt upkeeps every two to three weeks, insisting that she won't have a scruffy looking young man living under her roof. He holds his tongue instead of mentioning that her own son has hair down to his shoulders.

He starts back on his walk home, whispering Beverly's name to himself over and over as he does, his crush bubbling to the surface even with such a small interaction taking place with the two of them right outside the school yard. When he was talking to her and she was so nice to him, he didn't feel so awfully terrible himself.

He finally let's his gaze rise from his sneakered feet as he nears the park, watching the young children swing and shriek with laughter. He smiles in a bittersweet manner, wishing he were one of them still.

He jumps and stumbles backwards when a familiar blond figure jumps out from behind the tree, "Shit," he hisses to himself, letting his gaze hit the ground again.

"Heyyyy, Fatboy," the boy purrs with a menacing smirk, "Ready for your daily knuckle sandwich, tits?" He says, all of his ts coming out with a splatter of spit into Ben's face.

"Uh- Henry, I'd prefer we skip today, I uh- just got a filling," he mumbles, kicking his feet anxiously in the dusty dirt. He hears the dry laugh of Henry Bowers above him. "And I'll do your math homework, just- Henry please," he begs, still feeling himself pushed against the barky tree behind him.

He shoves his notebook into Henry's hand, "Here, take it," he pleas, sighing in relief when he feels the meaty hands leaving his shoulders.

"You're off today, but that means double tomorrow, tits," Henry says with a devilish smile, stalking off in the opposite direction, down to Belch Huggins'.

Ben closes his eyes and takes another deep breath, praising any god out there for his success today, it only works about once in a blue moon.

[indigo-sails]

Chiroptera Chapter

START "Woah, where am I?" Demetrie was waste deep in a big, golden field of wheat. --- "Hey Zoey!" "Good morning!" "Notice anything... different?" "Why Demetrie, your hair looks fabulous! I wish my bed head looked that good!" "Notice anything... else?" "To what could you be refering? OO do you have a new power?" "I'm thinking along the lines of something fluffly, drooly, barky..." "Oh you mean Ruben! He's my new doggy and I wove him so much!!" "You're dad won't let you have any pets, remeber?" "Did I say my dog? I meant to say your dog." "I don't want a dog." "Mmm, I dunno, from this angle he looks more like an oversized cat to me." "Zoey..." "Aw fine." ~Let's get him back home.~ --- "Okay so - top five favorite festivals: go!!" "Winter and summer festival, they're not even top two, they are both #1. The tourist festival brings so many cool people, world cultures within summer festial, and spring festival. Top five fav festivals: Go!!" "Fall, summer, spring, tourist, and winter! #1 basically counts for all five. It's just magical, the merry go round is my favorite of all!" "Ugh. On the list of my least favorite things; that forest. It's always so creepy." "Yeah," some sort of dream flash back, "It is." From pov of undergrowth, "It always seems like somethings watching me." shot of dog, speech bubbles in bg, "Same! I always feel that!!" "Tho sometimes,  I feel like I want to go into the-" "--RUBEN!"

"You didn't bring a leash or dog treats or anything??" "No, did you??" "What were you going to feed him??" "Pizza, of course!! RUUUBBEEEN" "H-hey! Not too far ahead!" montage of Demetrie turning round and round, creepy angle and what not. "Wait for me!" Small clearing, Zoey's stopped hands on her head. "Did you see where he went?" "No, I can't find him anywhere." Sudden shake in the under growth, both Zoey and Dem freeze. some sequence of panels and horrified faces, Ruben pops out of the bush with a tennis ball "Do they just inherintly know where to find tennis balls?" "I'm pretty sure that's not how dogs work." something alluding to a giant dark creature luming above them in the dark of the trees. -- some sort of transition. I don't want them walking back *zoey dramaticly fake crys* Good bye, sweet Ruben. -- transition "So you really don't want pets?" "Nope! No pets!" "I mean yeah... Is that weird?" "Not even something tiny? Like a fish?" "Nope. I'd probably forget to feed them. Pets take a lot of work!" "You couulllddd get a cat! They basically take care of themselves!" "No cats. No fish. Hey I'm going this way, you want to come over for some lunch?" "Can't! My dad is going to be home soon! I'm going to clean up, and then im going to convince him to let me have a puppy!!" "Awesome!! Tell him I say hi!" "Will do, take care!! -- Later that day... Dem: "So you're sure you don't wanna come over and play Final Destiny 433?" Zoe: ~"Yeah, my dad said there's a good chance he'll be home tonight, I figured I'd clean up a bit."~ Dem: "Awwww okay," Zoe: ~"Quit complaining!"~ Dem: -beep- "Hold on - it's Joey, I'll patch him through. Hey Joe!" Zoe: ~"Heeeeyyy Joeeeyyy!"~ Joe: "Hey! Are y'all going to the premiere tonight?" Dem: "Premiere? What premiere?" Joe: "Battle Force Galactic Blitztasic, it's in 4-D and they got the Hola-cube back up." D + Z: "SERIOUSLY" ~"OMGGGGG"~  Dem: "How much are tickets?" Joe: "Wait, you don't have tickets? I think they sold out already" "WHHAAATTT" ~"NOOOOOOOooooo"~ Joey: "Hold up, I'll patch Damien through. -- Hey Damien" Dame: "Joey! What's up?" Joey: "I got Zoey n Demetrie on the line - Do you have extra tickets to the premiere?" Dame: "Hmmm. What's in it for me tho?" "Cookies!" "I'll commission you an artwork!" "Am I supposed to contribute something??" -car pulls up in the window-- "Sounds delightful! I'll see what I can do. Deme, in the mean time you owe me one! ‍❤️ -click-" Joey: "I'll see what I can do on my end too." Zoey: "I'll see if my dad wants to come!" -knock at the door- Dem: "I'll... have to call you back." Driver: "Hello Demetrie, the Mayor would like to see you." -- Demetrie is in the back of a limo. He pulls up to a big house, he walks inside. "Hello Demetrie! How are you? Have you been well?" "Yeah of course! If you wanted to check up on me, you could've just called-" "Of course my boy, but where's the fun in that? I called you here for more than that, however. The Gaurd Force Cheif wants to include you on a matter of concern." "Oh" "In the conference room to you're right." -- "As you know, we've been getting more disturbances around the perifery of the forest. This morning, we got a call detailing an attack on the west end of town. No one was hurt, but there was a lot of distruction. Similar claw marks were found at two reported store break ins." Shows pictures of claw marks, windows broken, food eaten and missing. "Demetrie, would you happen to know anything about this?" little shocked, "N-no, sir, I do not." "As you can see cheif, I've already told you as much. "Of course. Well, we don't know what it is yet, but it's big..." -- Some notes for tomorrow: "Between the dream and the meeting with the towns gaurd force, I cant seem to catch a break today" "Demetrie!" Deme hearts n like DAW MA FRIENDS ARE MA BREAK /sobs "Wow, there are so many people!" "This is pretty much the only theater in town, but it looks like people came from over the hill. But any way --- That's not important right now." *clasps shoulders srs face*, "Are you prepared." "I was born prepared." *Zoey geeking out in the background* *wooping and cheering* "Guess it's time!" ----- 27 pages at this point SHots of going inside, future tech. Poster of Battle Galactic Blitztastic. Shot of Giant Popcorn Machine "Snap, I always forget how big that thing is" -- Zoey "Yeah, back in the early 3000s they competed nationally to see how big they could get it. We won, of course." "I thought I was supposed to be the history buff!" "Oh, that's right, I forgot that you're brother used to work here." --Dem Alright - let's get ready - to save - the galaxy! *something about representation and synthetics but bruh its straight up about systemic vioelne and oppression, but because robots and synths dont exist yet, it ends up being an allegory abour race. A relatively explicate one, but like, that seems super sucky. A human element is needed Joseph: "Oh yeah! Allissona Zhang is in this! I've been so hyped for this movie, having diasabled actors play disabled charachers is the only way to go." *cracks open phone screen to look up pictures of Allissona, shows Demetrie* Zoey: "Speaking of representation, have you heard the rumors that a Synth is going to be in this one?" Joseph: "What, you mean the robot?" Zoey: "No, a synth, basically a robot with a human brain, but the original human brain was rejected! It's like a person haunting a robot, so trippy." Joseph: "Nah Zoe, synths were debunked, weren't they? We've never had that kind of tech." Zoey: "Yeah, debunked by the US with the New World Council, but that's exactly what they'd want you to think." Joseph: "Dang, true, very true."

Later that night, the premiere is about to start. Zoey shows up, soft aside about her dad not making it to town. We meet more people/characters? Foreshadowing for shenannigins happinging under the facility. The Bat found its way inside from underground, the large old theater is also connected underground to the clock tower (Yes, the small town has a clock tower xD) Establishing shot of the lobby - the complex is pretty huge! There's a huge fountain of pop corn. As the movie starts, the bat peeks menecingly through the projected screen, everyone panics. As everyones leaving, Joey and Zoey rush to Deme's aide and ask how they can help. The bat squirms out into the lobby, starts feisting on the pop corn. They hide behind a counter on the far side. Demetrie runs with the rest of the crowd, then he slows to a stop. He remembers back to the guard force meeting, he feels intense pressure that he is the one who has to defend against this threat. "I'm the one... who's supposed to... protect everyone." flashback: "I've always had faith in you, Demetrie." Vaugely, fuzzily, he hears his friends calling to him, "Demetrie! Come on!" "I can't go." "Deme, this doesn't have to be your fight." "Everyone's counting on me, I feel like I don't have choice." "Demetrie... Fine. If you stay, we stay." "But-"

"We're here to help, tell us what to do!" "Do??"  "What can we do!! Did you see how big it was??" "Don't panic, let's brainstorm." "Right, right." Zoey: "How did it get in here in the first place??" Joe: "The underground tunnels, it's got to be." Zoey: "The basement has tunnels that lead to the outside??" Joey: "That or the creature burrowed it's way down." Deme: "How do we fight a bat??" Joey: "Bright lights? Loud noises??" Zoey: "Maybe we can lure it outside! Joey: "No, not outside, inside. We'll drive it back underground."

Zoey ends up being the one to distract the bat. She notices that it's sweeping along the floor, picking up popcorn. They are both in the isle near the front, it looks at her, it pauses. The bat poses no threat. Either she reaches over to give it popcorn, or she barely has time to think "Wait... popcorn??" and then the emergency sirens blare inside the theater and she snaps back to the plan at hand. "Wait, popcorn??" The alarm sirens blare, the bat screeches and takes out the whole row infront of it, zoey barely dives out of the way.

They trap them under the theater, then realize that the bat is harmless. To save them, they go either underground or sneak their way out and to the clock tower. The giant bat is trapped under some non essential support beams, and the three are talking about what to do with the bat. Zoey notices that its long tounge is snagging tiny bits of popcorn. She runs over and grabs a bag of popcorn that has fallento the ground. The bat calms down. "Zoey! What are you doing!" "No look, he's harmless. He's just hungry!" -- Bat, Demetire and Zoey are in the bell tower. "So. Now we have a bat." "I think I'll name him Ruben!" Deme face palms, "We're not feeding him pizza." shot of the tower and zoey's speech bubble, "Of course not! Duh, bats are insectovors!" END