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terramythos · 4 years ago

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TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 16 of 26

Title: Tales From Earthsea (Earthsea Cycle #5) (2001)

Author: Ursula K. Le Guin

Genre/Tags: Fantasy, Short Story Collection, Novella, Third-Person, Female Protagonist

Rating: 8/10 (note: this is an average)

Date Began: 7/2/2021

Date Finished: 7/6/2021

Tales From Earthsea is a collection of five short stories and novellas which take place in the Earthsea universe. In addition, there’s a supplementary timeline of Earthsea’s history, tradition, and cultural details of note. The last story in the collection, Dragonfly, serves as a bridge between Tehanu (#4) and The Other Wind (#6), the final book in the series.

Of the five stories, my favorites (both 10/10s) were The Finder and On The High Marsh.

The way one does research into nonexistent history is to tell the story and find out what happened. I believe this isn’t very different from what historians of the so-called real world do. Even if we are present at some historic event, do we comprehend it— can we even remember it— until we can tell it in a story?

Content warnings, individual ratings/commentary, and spoilers below the cut.

Content warnings for the book: Death and violence, child abuse (including implied sexual abuse), police brutality, slavery, reference to torture and execution, brief reference to inc*st, misogyny, animal cruelty, mild body horror, very brief implied mind control via a "love charm" (it doesn't work).

#1 - The Finder (10/10)

In The Dark Time, magic is widely mistrusted. Petty tyrants use the once noble art in pursuit of power and glory. Medra, the son of a shipwright in Havnor, has magical talents honed in secret. One day, he curses a ship built for a warlord’s fleet. Unfortunately, he gets caught and sent to a prison camp. There he is forced to use finding magic to locate veins of cinnabar.

The prison exists to refine quicksilver, a substance the most powerful mage on the island believes will turn him into a god. While in the refinery, Medra feels a spiritual connection to a dying slave, a young woman named Anieb. The two of them devise a plan to kill the mage and escape. Medra’s journey eventually takes him to the island of Roke and the founding of its prestigious wizard school.

‘The dead are dead. The great and mighty go their way unchecked. All the hope left in the world is in the people of no account.’

I really enjoyed this novella. The Dark Time is largely unexplored in the stories of Earthsea, so it was interesting to read about it here. I get the feeling that we’re approaching or in the middle of one such time in the real world, so seeing a version of it on the page is depressing yet hopeful. The story is dark; mass feudal warfare, a literal concentration camp in the opening half, widespread enslavement, and abuse of power. But it also offers hope and the promise of change. The story also explores the integral role of women in not only the preservation of magic in a bleak age of humanity, but the very foundation of Roke.

Medra’s story spoke to me; how he resists the despotic powers-that-be, his connection with Anieb even after her tragic death, and how despite his disillusionment with humanity, he ultimately fights to create a better world. I also thought Gelluk was a horrifying villain. He’s characterized as a soft-spoken, almost kindly man who loves children and animals— yet his narrative thoughts involve burning hundreds of slaves alive in order to better fuel the quicksilver refinery. “Nice doesn’t mean good” taken to an extreme, and a mirror of many villains in the real world.

Le Guin was anti-capitalist, but that way of thinking seems peripheral in the Earthsea series. The Finder, however, definitely has a Marxist reading in it. A recurring theme is the disenfranchised rising up against the powerful. Indeed both antagonists, who are despotic wizards of great power, are soundly defeated by groups of people they consider powerless. Magic is only considered relevant for the value and power it produces, an idea antithetical to the rest of the series. The quicksilver refinery also embraces anti-capitalist rhetoric; this section focuses on how mass enslavement and death is used to manufacture a meaningless commodity only one person “benefits” from. That’s not even getting into the prison-industrial complex.

I dunno. This story slaps. It’s not at all what I expected from a Roke origin story.

#2 - Diamond and Darkrose (5/10)

Diamond, the son of a prosperous lumber merchant, struggles to find his true calling in life. His father disapproves of almost everything he does, including his close friendship with the local witch’s daughter Rose. While he loves music, his father derides his talents and forces him to abandon the pursuit. When Diamond shows some promise in magic, he travels to a neighboring town to serve as the local wizard’s apprentice. But when this path estranges him from Rose, he grows disillusioned.

Rose had looked after herself from an early age; and this was one of the reasons Diamond loved her. With her, he knew what freedom was. Without her, he could attain it only when he was hearing and singing and playing music.

I did not like this story very much. I gave Diamond and Darkrose a 5/10 because it’s competently written (duh), and the protagonist has a character arc not entirely dependent on the central romance. But that’s about all I can say for it.

None of the characters are especially appealing. Diamond’s mentor figures are all extremely narrow-minded. Rose, supposedly his true love since childhood, drops him the moment things become difficult. And Diamond himself is a pushover who only grows a spine and pursues his dreams at the end of the story. I understand that’s his character flaw and his arc is about overcoming that. But due to all these factors, I was annoyed by every major character. The only person I didn’t dislike was Diamond’s mother, who only shows up for a couple of scenes.

Someone please tell me there are love stories out there where the romantic tension is NOT based on a fucking MISUNDERSTANDING. That shit drives me up a wall! It’s so overdone and painful to read.

#3 - The Bones of the Earth (8/10)

Dulse is an aging wizard on the island of Gont, reflecting on his life and relationship with his former apprentice, a young man he calls Silence. But he senses something amiss on the island; a massive earthquake poised to destroy a nearby port town and its inhabitants. To avert disaster, Dulse realizes he must turn to an ancient form of magic taught to him long ago— and he needs Silence’s help to save the town.

In there he knew he should hurry, that the bones of the earth ached to move, and that he must become them to guide them, but he could not hurry. There was on him the bewilderment of any transformation. He had in his day been fox, and bull, and dragonfly, and knew what it was to change being. But this was different, this slow enlargement. I am vastening, he thought.

So I’ve always liked Ogion in the main series; I love the idea of an immensely powerful wizard who lives an unassuming life of silence, contemplation, and appreciation of the natural world. In The Bones of the Earth, we get a glimpse of Ogion through his mentor’s eyes. Ogion’s heroism and how he stopped the earthquake is mentioned several times in the main series, but this is our first look at what actually happened.

Dulse is an unexpected and fascinating perspective character. It would be so easy to tell this story wholly from Ogion’s perspective, but I think making Dulse the protagonist was the right call. In particular, Dulse’s mind is starting to go. Le Guin presents this by utilizing flashbacks and connecting them to the present. This technique conveys Dulse’s disorientation and confusion so the reader experiences it alongside him... it’s hard to describe without actually reading the story. I also loved the little twist at the end regarding where Dulse learned the ancient magic that saves the island. There’s also a strong thematic connection to The Farthest Shore; death and becoming one with the rest of the world.

#4 - On The High Marsh (10/10)

A half-mad wanderer named Irioth comes upon a small settlement on the volcanic, marshy island of Semel. A murrain has been devastating the local cattle population, and Irioth offers his powers as a curer to heal the animals. He settles into a calm rural life with Gift, a widow working a small dairy. Though Gift likes Irioth, and the animals instinctively trust him, she senses something amiss with the man. Soon, Irioth’s dark past threatens to return and disturb the peace.

“Oh, yes,” Irioth said. “It was my fault.” But she forgave, and the grey cat was pressed up against his thigh, dreaming. The cat’s dreams came into his mind, in the low fields where he spoke with the animals, the dusky places. The cat leapt there, and then there was milk, and the deep soft thrilling. There was no fault, only the great innocence. No need for words. They would not find him here. He was not here to find. There was no need to speak any name. There was nobody but her, and the cat dreaming, and the fire flickering. He had come over the dead mountain on black roads, but here the streams ran slow among the pastures.

This story is a banger. It has a Western vibe— a stranger coming into a cattle town haunted by a mysterious past. Also cowboys. It’s an atmospheric story, and I think hits on the “small rural town” vibe better than Tehanu did. But there were several writing choices I especially liked.

We don’t learn Irioth’s name until a little while into the story; his physical description, temperament, and ability to immediately identify Gift’s true name just by looking at her makes one assume he’s Ged. He’s also got an interesting redemption arc, because it’s presented in a reverse order. We see Irioth’s genuine desire to do good, and his gentle and patient manner with animals and other people. He doesn’t even consider asking for payment for curing the murrain until Gift tells him he should. But there’s a sense that something is off; he’s paranoid, clearly running from something. The use-name he picks is Otak, a fictional ferret-like creature— which Gift asserts looks nice, but has sharp teeth.

Near the end, Ged actually does show up and explain what happened to Irioth. They have pretty similar backstories; both were powerful, arrogant young mages who messed with forces they shouldn’t have, then went through great personal sacrifice to right the wrong (oh god the initial deception was intentional they’re narrative foils oh god). Ged embraced the darkest aspects of himself to avert calamity. Irioth came to Semel to escape Roke and atone by helping others. One detail I especially liked was that Irioth once considered healing beneath him, but now he takes a deep joy in using it to help.

#5 - Dragonfly (8/10)

Irian lives a solitary life-- her father is a drunkard living in the ruins of their family’s once prosperous estate. Her closest relationship is with the local village witch, who named her in secret in the dead of night. When a disgraced young wizard named Ivory comes to town, he sees Irian as a potential conquest. To gain power over her, he hatches a scheme; disguise Irian as a man, travel to Roke, and sneak her into the male-only wizard school— humiliating the great Masters.

But Irian is restless. She knows she has power, but her true nature is a mystery even to her. Irian sees Ivory’s plan as an opportunity to find answers from the most powerful wizards in the world. When the Doorkeeper actually lets her into the school, she finds herself in a magical and political conflict over the future of Roke— and discovers what exactly she is.

“Dark is bad,” said the Patterner. “Eh?”

Irian drew a deep breath and looked at him eye to eye as they sat there. “Only in dark the light,” she said.

This is one of those stories that has a rocky start, but a great second half. The first part of the novella felt dry to me; I’ve read plenty of tales about social outcasts with weird, unexplainable powers. On top of this, a chunk of the early narration is from Ivory’s POV, and he’s a complete tool. That can be a fun perspective to take, and I like the fact that he thinks he’s manipulating Irian when she’s the one pulling the strings. But since he’s an irrelevant character who disappears from the story halfway through, it feels like a waste to devote a huge chunk of the story to him.

However, once Irian arrives at Roke, the story gets much more interesting. Her presence at Roke causes a huge scandal that divides the Masters. Women being forbidden from Roke is a Series Thing at this point, but Earthsea is in an era of change (although I DO question that she’s the first woman to try it). The Finder demonstrated that women were pivotal in the foundation of Roke, something largely erased from history. Barring women stems from a power hungry bigot codifying it into tradition.

Irian finds some unexpected allies--minor characters in the previous books. The Doorkeeper continues to be the coolest motherfucker there. The Patterner is a major character in this story; he was in just one scene in The Farthest Shore, so I liked learning more about him. The Namer is the kind of guy you’d expect to be a stodgy traditionalist, so him siding with Irian is surprising. The Summoner, a heroic figure in previous books and stories, is a sinister villain here. As for the ending, well… if you didn’t see it coming, I’d wonder if you even read Tehanu. The same hints are there.

There were little particulars I liked, such as Irian moving into a decrepit hut that’s definitely Medra’s old home. My favorite detail is that this story has a parallel scene with The Finder. In The Finder, there’s a scene where an antagonist, Early, invades Roke in the form of a dragon. He lands on Roke Knoll, a site of power that reveals one’s true form. It turns him back into a human, leaving him defenseless when the residents of Roke attack him and repel his invasion. The reversal happens in Dragonfly. Irian gets attacked by one of the Masters while at Roke Knoll — and its magic turns her into her true form, a dragon. Props to whoever picked the cover design, since it references both scenes.

#6 - A Description of Earthsea

I’m not rating this since it’s basically a lore dump. It’s a deep dive into Earthsea’s history, languages, cultures, and other relevant world details. It’s the kind of bonus info a lot of fantasy series tack on as reference material. According to Le Guin, she wrote this to get some idea of the timeline on each of these stories.

As a series, Earthsea has relatively little worldbuilding exposition. Sometimes characters reference legends or historical events, but usually the reader lacks the context to fully understand them. The focus is more on the lives of the characters and their personal experience of the world. I think something like A Description of Earthsea has benefits and drawbacks for the reader. On one hand it's nice to have some definitive information to tie things together. On the other, this does represent a loss of some of the mystery in the story.

I think this is the first thing in the series that even mentions homosexuality, so props for that I guess?

Closing Thoughts

A short story collection is always going to have high and low points. I tend to look at each story individually and score that way, but an average is always misleading. Diamond and Darkrose dragged the score down since there were only five stories total. But I enjoyed the majority of them. I am interested to see where the human/dragon subplot goes in the final installment; I assume Irian will show up at some point? We’ll see.

#taylor reads #8/10 #2021 reading challenge #almost done with this series!

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sleepdeprivedheretic · 4 years ago

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Those Shoes (Ch.1)

Notes: The title is referenced to a song by The Eagles, it’s a classic song about exotic dancers, as well as a popular song to play in the clubs. Rita, or @youtubequeens and I brainstormed this piece, and I was so excited to finally write it :3

Warnings: Language, Exotic Dancers and their life, talk about sex, Trigger Warnings!!!: Mentions of and non-consensual acts such as groping and touching, and other horrors.

Notice: Dancers should be treated with respect, and this is not a fic to downgrade them, nor to spread false truths. It sheds light on what can and does happen in real life, and how that it can be a dangerous job. The warnings are here for a reason. Thank You.

“Honey, I neeeeed your help!” Your mother whined through the phone. You sighed loudly as you sat on the bed. You’ve just finished with a hefty amount of homework, two tests, and you had another coming up, soon. Not only were your friends squealing that they need to celebrate your upcoming graduation, but your mother had called you, needing something. Again.

“Before you hang up!” She started as your thumb hovered over the red button. “I know that you’ll be graduating college, soon, and you’re needing a job, asap, sooooo, I was wondering if I could hire you, soon?” She baited, and you felt a chill of dread down your spine.

“No way in hell.”

“Oh, Come on! You know that you’ll need a job! I can’t find decent hire, anywhere. How about I hire you until you find a better job? Please? These outfits need to be patched up, and I need makeup expertise! Other than my own!” She added.

You felt your stubborn nature wilt as common sense pile drove in. Your mother was a crafty, sneaky, snake, and she knew that you were needing money to make end’s meet, especially when you were about to move to a better apartment. There were good businesses waiting to hire, and some even were willing to sponsor you, but of course it could take months until you could officially land a good job.

Unfortunately, your mother knew this.

“Above minimum wage, and I get to wear what I want.”

“Deal.” She didn’t even hesitate.

“Fine. I’ve got tests…and the girls are throwing me a surprise party, of all things at the end of the month, so I’ll see you when I see you.” You breathed out, and your mom giggled.

“Oh, a surprise party? Maybe I could send-”

“Mom, no.” You blurted out, and she laughed.

“Oh, my baby girl!” She cooed. “You don’t need physical experience to enjoy-”

You clicked the red dial, ending the call as you sighed with defeat. How did your life turn out like this? More than likely, she’ll gather your small group of friends and convince them to try to get you to loosen up. It was not only your graduation day, but also your birthday, coming up.

Your mind froze with fear at the memories of past birthdays. After you’ve turned eighteen, she tried multiple times to send out one of the male dancers, scantily dressed in an ice cream sundae uniform, holding a card that basically said “to pop your cherry”.

Yeah, you didn’t really had any contact with her, really.

…………………

“Surprise! Happy Graduation and Birthday, Girl!” Your friends screamed with joy as you entered your apartment. Finally. After years of hard work and several job offers that will get back to you within a month, you were a certified beautician with a knack to patch and design clothes. Sure, it wasn’t your first idea of a job, but it grew on you. Dying hair, painting nails, mastering different techniques of applying makeup, and seeing the sparkly eyes of your patients as they admired your hard work, had won you over.

Of course, your mother had a major influence over you. Although you weren’t into dancing, you were happy to practice makeup and help patch up certain outfits. As you grew older, you went with what you knew, and soon, your school had paid for your college due to your good grades, and you made your way up, ever since.

“Oh hey, girls! Where’s the cake?” You wondered, and they wasted no time with mischievous giggles. You stilled.

“What-”

“Don’t worry, Babe! It’ll be here, soon. Try this cucumber Sake!” Rumi grinned as she held out the small cup. The white-haired woman had been your friend since late high school, the only one knowing about your mother’s business back then. She and your other friend, Keigo, had now opened up a pet store. Said man who had bird-like perception wasn’t here, right now, but your more…flirtatious friend, Nemuri, was here with her girlfriend and your attention-seeking friend, Yu. Both girls had worked for your mother, and although you were close, you were weary of their similar antics.

“You’re hiding something.” Your eyebrows furrowed. Nemuri smiled coyly as she slung an arm around a giggling Yu.

“It wouldn’t be called a surprise if we weren’t.”

“True.”

The four of you had cut up and were laid back, enjoying small talk and stories that you all missed out on. Nemuri and Yu were doing great with the future wedding funds, Rumi had admitted that Keigo was trying his best to win over some goth from Hot Topic, and you, well, you were still doing the things that you loved to do, despite a busy schedule. Rumi smiled, knowing fully well that your more secretive hobbies had leaned towards being more humanitarian, despite your busy schedule.

You wanted to do things that you wanted to do, not gain attention from them, yet your close group of friends had known of your little skits: Feeding not only stray cats, but taking time to volunteer to help with the homeless and the orphanage. The conversation had quickly turned to about working at the strip club, and you were relieved that the subject had changed.

“Ugh. I hate it when they get up. They’re suppose to sit, and be obedient.” Nemuri huffed.

“Isn’t that against the regulations?” You wondered, and Yu nodded.

“Yeah. I heard that one girl in the private room was far into her dancing, she didn’t notice the guy standing up. Luckily there’s cameras, and so when the staff noticed that he pulled his dick out, they broke into the room and threw him out. Hah, he didn’t get his cash back or anything.” She finished, and you couldn’t help but feel sympathy.

You weren’t raised in the club, but your mother had told you plenty of stories, and dropped off the outfits or brought home a “dummy” to practice makeup on while she told you to never let your guard down. It wasn’t until you were nineteen when you fully knew what she had meant as you were working as a hostess at her building.

Although you were dressed in bartender clothes, it didn’t stop anybody from trying to make a grab at you. You were lucky that your mother had hired good bouncers, and she herself was like a tiger who prowled upon those who didn’t belong there.

“That’s awful.” You admitted, and Nemuri nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. It’s especially gross when you’re giving them a lap dance, and you feel something gross and sticky on the back of your thigh.”

“Or when they kept saying that ‘you’re too pretty to work here’. I know I’m pretty, and I want the attention and attraction to work here. Just because I dance, doesn’t mean that I’m easy. I’m in a committed relationship for six years, thank you.” Yu bantered back while Rumi and you listened quietly.

“You girls go through a lot. Damn. Poor birthday girl had to wear a miniskirt while handing out food and drinks.” Rumi piped up, offering to say what she knew about the subject. Nemuri sighed.

“I remember that when Yu and I first started. Her mom’s not too picky when it comes to help, especially when it’s low pay and her own kid. Like a lamb in a den full of lions, I tell you. Luckily our ladies and gents knew how to swoop in to the rescue.” She finished, and you felt yourself blushing.

Everyone jumped as the doorbell rang, and you watched the Grinch-like grins spread on Nemuri and Yu’s faces, as Rumi let out one that was almost feral.

“Cake’s here.” They said, and you couldn’t help but feel a case of dread as Nemuri didn’t hesitate to waltz over there, and sling the door open, and you couldn’t help but to swallow thickly.

“You did not.” It was a whisper that died on your throat.

Of course you should have known. Of all things-

He stood in the middle of the door, holding a prettily frosted cake, but it wasn’t the cake that caught your attention.

Tall, blond, muscles, was sporting thin square glasses that were about to fall off of his nose, a sleeveless white vest with a loosened tie and one button undone. His pants were no better, the zipper and buttons were undone as it snagged nicely on his hips, leaving a blond treasure trail for the world to see, and of course, sleek black and orange high heels that looked as if they cost more than your rent.

“I’m here to teach our Birthday Girl a lil’ lesson.” Came out the smooth purr as he twirled a red sucker in his mouth, and damn it did that not help you. You hated to admit it, but he was the handsomest ones that you’ve ever seen, and of course you knew who sent him. Pretty amber irises stared at you, drinking you thoroughly as if he was silently contemplating something.

“Name’s Fatigue, Sugar.” He grinned, lolling the sucker within his mouth as Nemuri took the cake from his hands and set it down on your living room table.

“Don’t work our girl too hard, Tai. Poor thing gets a little flustered, easily.” She giggled, pinching your cheek rather playfully. You gave her a small glare despite that your ears were burning, now. Tai, or “Fatigue”, let a slow, lazy smile stretch his face as he looked down at you with a cocky look mixed with hunger.

“Jus’ sit back an’ relax, ‘nd enjoy the show. You deserve it for workin’ so hard.” He cooed with what seemed to be affection, and you swallowed thickly and nodded. Sure, you could do this. Giving an affirmative, he didn’t give you much time before he took out his phone and pressed some button, instantly music had started playing as he started.

He was like a magnet, snapping your attention to him in awe as he spread his legs wide, letting himself sink low to the floor, heels perfectly grounded into your carpet as his glasses stayed neatly perched on the crook of his nose. He grinned at your amazed stare, as if eating it up. Of course he had a bag full of tricks, and you couldn’t believe that you were finding yourself eager to know each one.

He didn’t fail to deliver, hopping back up with a dive of his hips, sliding a hand down to the side of his pants, palming his thigh as he bent low, ass in the air. Each movement was in sync with the beats, and was absolutely filthy as he used his body to curve and twist into movements that oddly made you feel hot and your throat dry. Who was he? Where did your mom even find somebody this good?

Your friends were no better. Rumi had sported a look of stupor, and to your own surprise, Nemuri and Yu looked impressed, a rare sight for you knew that their technique was high dollar and quality, too.

He was all over you, not touching, but close, not letting you take your attention away from him as he ran his hands close to his hips and inner thighs, his sharp focus was only on you as he gauged your reactions, seeing which little movements brought a spark to your eyes or a flush to your face.

Then, like his routine, he did another unexpected move. Taking your cake, he set it neatly on your lap. Not giving you time to really question anything, he gingerly took your hand, dipping your fingers into the frosting, and brought it to his mouth.

Hot. You couldn’t help but feel hot all over as your lips burned on how he licked and sucked at the frosted digits, lolling his tongue over each one as he gave you such a dirty, heated look, and you swore that you heard him groan. Or was it you? You couldn’t tell as he gave your digits one final suck, letting go with a wet pop as the last song ended.

“Delicious.” He purred, and you couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip at how he sounded it.

“Holy shit.” Nemuri broke the silence.

“Language, young Missy.” Fatigue tutted, waving his finger at her, laughing lightly as she gave him one of her own, before turning his attention back to you.

“Didja enjoy the dance, Sweetling?”

“Yeah.” You admitted in choked voice, and he gave a small laugh of affection as he walked towards the door.

“You have a Happy Birthday. I do hope that I can see ya, again.” He gave one last final look at you that you couldn’t decipher, as he headed out.

Silence enveloped you girls, before Yu started laughing.

“You were so blushing! He looked as if he wanted to eat you up!” She noticed, and you could feel your lip starting to hurt from biting it constantly.

“Woah, did he even know that you’re the boss’s kid?” Rumi asked, and Nemuri shook her head.

“Nah. We hired him yesterday, and her mom didn’t say anything, other than that she had a very special job for him. Heh, I didn’t know that the new meat was this good.” Nemuri explained, staring at her nails.

“’I do hope that I can see ya, again’.” Yu mimicked before giggling with glee. “Somebody’s has taken a shine to our homebody.” She grinned and your face flushed with realization.

“I gotta go see my mom.” You blurted out, instead, and was rewarded with grins and knowing smirks.

“It’s so cute how you’ve finally began to open up, my little touch-starved Chickadee. A stripper, of all things, huh?” Nemuri laughed at the irony, and you couldn’t help but join.

“I guess that it’s time to admit that I don’t have to live my life as the Lone Wolf, anymore.”

“And finally get laid, right?” Yu said it ever so casually, and you rolled your eyes.

“Ah, leave her alone. It’s nice that those brick walls are falling down.” Rumi grinned, slinging an arm around you and you smiled.

“It’s getting late, ladies. I got to see my mom early, tomorrow. Before you leave, take some cake with you.” You admitted.

“Will do! I’ll tell her that the new guy had done the impossible, by gaining your heated stare.” Yu giggled as she wrapped an arm around Nemuri’s waist.

“Hah, Kei’s gonna have a laugh at this.” Rumi smiled as she got up, leaving for your kitchen to grab the plates and forks.

….………….

After cake was cut and eaten, and the girls hugged you and kissed your cheeks before heading out, you were now laying on your bed, face flushing furiously as your heartbeat quickened. A stripper of all things shouldn’t have done that to you. You grew up with your mom’s flirty attitude towards strangers, and from an older teen, had been working in the club in a vest, shirt, and miniskirt with low heels, being constantly flirted with.

You didn’t know what made him to be so different, but like a magnetic connection, you were pulled, and despite you loner, homebody attitude, you kind of did wanted to see more of him.

…………..

He sighed, slipping off the expensive shoes as his feet and body ached for a hot shower. She didn’t know him, but he knew somewhat about her. Although the two of them shared the same college, he’d never shared a class with her, and she had lived in the apartments that was near, but not the dorms. Yet, he seen her almost everyday while either to or from his way to classes, work, or in general.

She tried to hide it, but he knew of the little empty cans of tuna near the dumpster that kept the stray mother cat and her kittens fed, was from her. He could hear her cooing to this day, smile rivaling the sun, as she looked down at the bunch with a touch of softness, not noticing the world around her as he took the same route past the alley every day.

Of course, he was a little intrigued. He had a sweet tooth, and despite his refusal in ever taking a bite, he wanted to drink in on what this strange woman was doing. He knew that she was busy, if the bags underneath her eyes indicated anything, and yet she still took time to do small and big things. Picking up littered cans and tossing them in the recycling bin, helping struggling students study, and he’d even seen her face at the soup kitchens, pouring generous amounts of soup into the bowls which were held in the hands of the hungry.

All around. She was all around and yet tried to make herself small and trivial. Others didn’t really notice, but he did. He couldn’t help it. Like a little magnet, she pulled him in, and she was unaware of it. Honestly, he felt like a stalker, yet he knew that he wasn’t. She was just…all around. Existing, helping, laughing, and smiling. It cut through a crack in his dark little world.

Of course, then she graduated, and he was surprised on how much he had missed her laughter, the softness in her eyes as she handled the kittens or gave out food. He didn’t know her. Didn’t speak to her, never went to the same classes, and yet, he felt a little empty when she was gone. It boggled and irritated him.

The literal icing on top was when he had finally gotten hired, the smirking woman telling him that he had a special job, and he couldn’t help but look in surprise at the address. The same door number that he seen her excitedly rush out from while he was on his way to class, was written on the address sheet with instructions. He had already met her friends, who were surprising her on her birthday. To be honest, he was surprised that the woman had friends such as Nemuri and Yu, but he didn’t question it further, as he felt the excitement build up.

Then, he couldn’t help himself when the two of them had finally met. He suppressed a shiver. He had a no touching rule. He didn’t want to touch, and he didn’t want to be touched, but something broke in him. He wanted to be touched by those shy inquisitive fingers, wanted to be stared at so innocently, and yet so dirty, and he couldn’t help himself. She was so sweet, and he didn’t mind letting himself having a taste, for once.

He really did hope to see her again

…………

#Taishiro Toyomitsu #Fatgum #Fatgum x reader #exotic dancer fic #He wears heels in this #Mutual pining #Love at first sight #His weight is up to the imagination #I love our round boy

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artmakerproductions · 4 years ago

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1) Commissioner J. Gordon: For the past 20 years, Commissioner Gordon has worked in the police force of Gotham City. He and the Batman have a mutual partnership, despite being against the vigilante’s methods of apprehending criminals. His character is close to previous incarnations. 2) Cat-woman: She brings a whole new meaning to the term, ‘Cat Burglar’. Cat-woman enjoys the thrill of stealing the most valuable of jewels and trinkets from the most heavily guarded of places, all for the sake of because she can. Unlike Batman who has a array of gadgets at his disposal, Cat-woman has to rely on tech she has at home for her heists. Her backpack holds these items for her w/ great efficiency. Batman has his Utility Belt, Cat-Woman has her Cat Backpack. Not too many changes to her character here.

3) Poison Ivy: In her past, she was a genuinely nice girl to be around. She took to gardening as a hobby and as her profession. She had a fascination w/ nature and her magnificent creatures; plants and all. Pamela Isley was a determined, intelligent, and resourceful young woman and was the prodigy of her hometown. Under the suggestion of her peers, she moved to Gotham for potential career opportunities. She had the hope of making a difference in the world. That was rather difficult as people cared very little for her ideas. This didn’t stop her from trying. One day, to her horror, discovered that the runoff a nearby chemical plant was not only destroying what little wilderness there was left in Gotham, but it was all being covered up by them under order of the mayor. Seeing her chance to finally make a difference, took action. She snuck into he plant to collect evidence of their cover up, but was caught. They quickly made short work of her and shot her dead. They dumped her body in the very same swamp their harmful chemical was polluting. Not long after, she was reborn. Her resurrection left her genetic code completely altered to that of a plant. All she wanted was revenge against not only the people responsible for her death, but all of humanity for the injustice and lack of respect for mother nature. Pamela Isley was gone, and all that was left was poison... Poison Ivy, that is.

She’s a tad more pudgy here, but she uses her unassuming and innocent appearance to her advantage as her enemies always tend to underestimate her power and abilities. For Ivy’s design, I went w/ a more “friendly gardener”, “goddess” type of look than her usual “seductive & sexy”, as to differentiate this version of the character from others. And I also gave her two carnivorous plant companions that live atop her sunhat akin to Flotsam and Jetsam from Disney’s “The Little Mermaid”. 4) Joker: Few ever want to tussle w/ the insane clown, the Joker for how unpredictable he is. Only one person in all of Gotham dares to do such a thing, the Batman. Joker is a prankster who loves causing chaos and above average mayhem in the city of Gotham. He finds enjoyment out of pranking unsuspecting citizens and committing crimes in general. The Joker, despite his insanity, is quite intelligent and is capable of creating and coordinating his schemes w/ incredible efficiency. Joker the colourful opposite of Batman. He’s a brightly coloured, loud, over the top, and loves being the centre of attention; while Batman is quiet, swift darkly coloured and prefers sticking to the shadows. The two are yin and yang, one cannot exist w/o the other. This interpretation of the clown prince of crime is sort of a mix of Jim Carrey’s “The Mask”, the 2004 version from “The Batman” (the one I grew up w/ and watched on occasion), the Gremlins from the film franchise of the same name and Judge Doom after he reveals he is a toon. Joker’s design is based on old school clowns. 5) Harley Quinn: For years, the city of Gotham had interested her for the strange cast of characters that lived there (Joker, Batman, Two-Face, Killer Croc, etc.) After graduating from university, she moved to Gotham. She was in the middle of writing her latest book “Psychos & Costumed Vigilantes” when she was abducted by the Joker. He claimed he was a fan of her work (specifically the stuff that was about him) and offered his help in exchange for a percentage in the book sales. Not wanting to pass up the opportunity, she accepted. For the next few months, she worked alongside him as her partner in crime: Harley Quinn, getting all the juicy details of his life and how his mental psyche (or at least, one version of it) works. Everything seemed to be going great, her books were selling, she was getting noticed by the public, and even having her own talk show was being planned. That was until her identity was revealed to the public via television broadcast. Now having a criminal record, her only options were to turn herself in and face the consequences or continue being w/ the Joker. She chose the latter as it seemed more fun. Here, she’s less of a love interest and more of a legit partner in crime to the Joker. Enjoying the attention he gets from her, he keeps the looney fangirl around for his own amusement. 6) Victor Friez/Mr. Freeze: Victor Friez was abused emotionally and physically by his parents as a child. His only comfort was his loving and caring grandmother. She died when he was at the age of 5. They made the decision to immigrate from Germany to America shortly afterwards. There, he met and became friends w/ Barbara Gordon and her own friend Nora. A few months later, Barbara had noticed that something wasn’t right and informed her father about the situation and child services was alerted. Victor, now in foster care, was given a new home with two loving parental figures. For the next 9 years, life seemed almost perfect. He became a skilled technician and engineer and by the time of high school, he and his childhood sweetheart, Nora had been dating for 4 years. Victor’s adoptive parents were tragically killed in a car crash. Again, his close friend and girlfriend were there for his support. As high school was drawing to a close, Victor had made the decision of proposing to Nora. Babara was completely ecstatic about it and was more than happy for him. Before he had the chance to do so, Nora was struck by a car fleeing from the police. Barbara, as Bat Girl, chased after the crooks. Heartbroken and alone, Victor (after a night of drinking heavily) broke into a nearby facility and attempted suicide by ingesting the experimental cryogenic chemicals. As he was succumbing to the effects, he toppled over onto a nearby table holding the other experimental cryogenic chemicals. Victor was soaked head-to-toe in the substance. There he lied for the entirety of the night. The result was not death, but he was far worse. Victor was no longer capable of living in temperatures above freezing. His condition left him forever trapped in the cold. With nothing left to lose, he turned to the life of crime to fund his efforts in freezing all of Gotham along w/ the rest of the world. In this interpretation of Mr. Freeze he is much younger and knows Barbara Gordon (as she was the one to introduce him to Nora) and has a dynamic w/ Bat Girl similar to Batman and Two-Face’s dynamic from the old animated series. On occasion, they see eye-to-eye as they both miss the deceased Nora. I thought it’d be interesting to go w/ this direction and have Bat Girl be centre stage whenever the three go up against him. I don’t know, let me know what you think of this change. 7) Penguin/Oswald Cobblepot: Oswald was treated poorly by his parents and was constantly bullied at school for his physical appearance. He was cruelly given the nickname Penguin. For years he had to endure this, but all that changed when he inherited his family fortune after their unexpected deaths. This was his chance to make a name for himself and finally have the respect of others he desperately wanted. To ensure this, he went out his way to learn of the sophisticated and well mannered habits of rich folk to seal the deal. Still, he wasn’t given any respect and again, it was due to his appearance. If being nice wasn’t enough, then he would have to force them to give him the very respect he believed he deserved. Oswald opened an arctic themed nightclub: “The Icy Tundra” as a coverup for his criminal activities. He had himself referred to as Penguin as to mock those who disrespected him in his past and to add fear in his name when uttered... I chose to base his appearance on the rockhopper penguin than the traditional appearance people associate w/ the animal. 8) Batman (Bruce Wayne): Is generally the same character as previous incarnations. Parents tragically died when he was a child, is a millionaire, etc. etc. 9) Robin (Dick Grayson): Same deal as Batman, but I’d say he’s between 13 to 14 y/o here, and has a friendly rivalry w/ Bat Girl. 10) Bat Girl (Barbara Gordon): Barbara Gordon lives w/ her father, James Gordon who is head of the police department, as she attends university in Gotham. For the last year, she’s worked alongside Batman and Robin. She is a skilled fighter, has remarkable intelligence (that’s how she figured out their identities) and charisma to boot. Often Barbara is either hanging out w/ Victor Friez and Nora, whom she’s known since childhood. She is heartbroken with Nora’s death and is even more so w/ Victor’s turn to villainy as Mr. Freeze. On the night of her death, Barbara (as Bat Girl) goes after the criminals on her own and takes out all her anger and frustration on them for their involvement before Batman shows up to calm her down. Like how Bruce Wayne has his demons, Barbara has her own to deal w/. Her personality and depiction here is close to the original and 2004 series, (I’m more familiar w/ the latter). Not much of a change aside from her connection to Mr. Freeze’s origins. 11) Scarface: Not much to say, but I took influence from the 2004 and the original animated series designs. Idk. 12) Two-Face (Harvey Dent): A wealthy man and politician, Harvey Dent was respected for his helpfulness in and around the community. He is a close friend of Bruce Wayne and Commissioner Gordon. The seemingly perfect model citizen of Gotham has a dark secret however, as he suffers from a split personality. For years, he’s been able to keep that side of him under control, but it’s presence remains nonetheless. It all changed one day when his entire left half was badly burned in an explosion. The mental and physical trauma is what caused him to finally snap and become the crime boss known as Two-Face. On his Harvey Dent side, he is much more calm, collected and is a smooth talker. Two-Face, on the other hand (or in this case, side) is much more brash, violent and aggressive. Sometimes he’s more Harvey, sometimes he’s more Two-Face. On rare occasions, both. He, for the most part, sticks close to the Two-Face from “Batman:The Animated Series”. Not much else to add or say. ———— Always, I did a fair amount of research in order to familiarize myself w/ the characters as I’m not the most knowledgeable person when it comes to Batman (a few things I know, but it ain’t much). A majority of these characters remain unchanged, but others have a few details switched around or are completely redone from the ground up. I’m not normally into superheroes, as I’m more into drawing monsters and kaiju-related stuff like that - but I guess this was a good opportunity for me to practice drawing human characters other than monsters. “Batman” (c) DC, I do not own the characters or anything, I only own the art featuring them. Be sure to stick around As I’m uploading more Batman related art shortly.

#batman #dc comics #fanart #mr freeze #joker #harley quinn #two face #robin #batgirl #drawing #penguin #scarface #poison ivy #commisioner gordon #catwoman

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years ago

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Promises Not Kept Part 27

Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.

Part 27: Leah discovers what Tommy has been keeping from her and it takes a toll on her birthday.

“Mrs. Shelby.” Frances stopped Leah as she came back in with Johanna. “Mr. Shelby’s requested you meet him in the kitchen.”

Leah frowned. “The kitchen? Alright.” She bent down to kiss Johanna’s cheek. “Go up to bed, Frances will tuck you in.”

“What ‘bout daddy?” The little girl pouted. “Needs to read me bedtime story.” She protested even as she took Frances’s hand.

“He’ll come kiss you goodnight soon but he can’t tell a story tonight,” Leah replied honestly.

Johanna’s shoulders slumped in disappointment but followed Frances upstairs. Once they were gone, Leah headed downstairs to the kitchen.

“Tommy?” She turned the corner to try and find him. “Tom?”

“In here.” He called her over to one of the pantries.

She stepped inside. “Why can’t we speak upstairs?” She wondered.

Still tense, Tommy was pacing near a shelf of crystal glasses. “Needed somewhere private, the guests’ll be here soon.” He mumbled.

“Which is why we should be upstairs to greet them.” She retorted. “Now what did you have to tell me?”

He walked over to her and his face softened. “Not right now.” Gently, he grazed his hands down her arms knowing how it gave her goosebumps and sent a shiver down her spine. After years of knowing each other and a few years of marriage, Tommy knew Leah better than anyone had before and probably better than anyone ever would. It went far beyond the physical nature of their relationship. Although he knew what made her tick, he had a good insight into her thoughts as well. Even in times of trouble and during arguments they were in sync. “I just want to forget everything for a moment.”

“Tom…” She protested weakly because she knew the guests would be there any moment. But once he started to kiss her neck, she couldn’t help but follow his lead.

“We’ll be quick.” He promised.

~~~~~~~

What was meant to be quick, turned into something much longer. Before both of them knew it, they started to hear the hum of guests mingling upstairs. But both were too far gone to stop.

Leah wrapped her legs around Tommy’s waist as he rocked against her. The rhythmic movement pushing her into the cabinet, shaking the glasses on the shelves.

“Happy birthday, Mrs. Shelby.” He growled playfully into her ear.

She smiled and kissed him tenderly as they both reached their peaks moments apart.

Panting hard, the two separated for a breath. Tommy’s grip loosened around Leah, setting her back down on her feet. She fixed her dress before sitting down.

Tommy lit a cigarette and sat down beside her. He took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. “We should probably talk now before we go upstairs.”

Leah nodded. “Okay.”

“The man Ada told you about, Mr. Mosley. He and I spoke a few days ago about a few things. It’s possible that he’s met you before.” Tommy explained carefully.

She frowned. “I don’t recall his name. I’m sure if you hadn’t met him before becoming an MP than I wouldn’t have met him either.”

“He said he would go to Midland often.”

The name of the hotel made Leah’s blood run cold. It was rare that she ever thought about her past. Sometimes she reminisced on the odd circumstances that brought her and Tommy together, but she didn’t like to linger on it. The worst was when she had nightmares of being forced back into one of those suites. She would scream and cry, saying she wasn’t a Midland girl anymore. She was a well-respected woman, a wife, and a mother. But no one would listen.

Those days were behind her and she never wanted to return to them again. Now Tommy was implying there was someone from her past there at her birthday party.

“Would you even remember him?” He asked.

Leah’s jaw clenched. “I drank a lot back then.” She mumbled. “I don’t remember a lot of people.”

“Well…”

“Tommy, if he told you this days ago, then why is he still invited to come tonight?” She demanded. “If you knew there was a possibility that I knew him from Midland?”

Tommy paused because in all honesty, he hadn’t considered uninviting Mosley. Would it have been nice? Probably. “I need him to endorse something.” He mumbled, knowing the excuse was pitiful.

Leah stood up with a scoff. “Endorse something. Honestly?! You couldn’t’ve done that in your office during the week?” She threw her hands up in disbelief. “I asked you twice whether you were planning something else for this party and you lied to me, twice.”

“Lee…I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to worry about anything but-”

“Worry? There’s a man upstairs who knows I was a whore!” She snapped and tears began to fill her eyes. “At my own birthday party, which my husband is treating like another day of business. I thought you were really trying to make a special occasion out of this but no, I should’ve realized you were planning something.” She left in a huff before Tommy could apologize his way out of trouble.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ada caught her sister-in-law as she came upstairs in a cloud of fury. “Where’ve you been?” She asked in disbelief. “I’ve been looking for you!”

“I need a drink,” Leah muttered.

It was clear the woman was upset. “What’s happened?” She asked.

“Nothing. Just…” Leah took a deep breath and tried to look a little happier for the sake of her party guests. “Please try to keep Mosley and my husband away from me.”

Ada nodded slowly even though the request was fairly strange. “Alright, I’ll do my best…”

Leah stopped a waiter and took two glasses of champagne off the tray he was carrying. She would need a few drinks before she was in the mood to mingle.

~~~~~~~

In the brief time before the ballet was to begin, Leah did her best to keep her distance between her, Tommy, and Mosley. She was successful and when the start of the dance was announced, Leah went outside, chatting with Polly.

Before she could really react, Tommy came up to her in the tent. “I’m sorry.” He whispered to her.

Leah found her seat and shrugged her husband off. “Save your breath, Tommy.” She retorted coldly and averted her eyes from him.

Tommy sighed and sat down next to her. He had a feeling it would take more than a simple apology to win back her trust. The whole night had put a bitter taste in his mouth but it was far from over.

~~~~~~

Halfway through the ballet, Tommy reached over and attempted to interlace his fingers with Leah’s. Instead, she pulled her hand away and crossed her arms over her chest.

Disgruntled and kicking himself for his actions, he looked over his shoulder. A flash of headlights reminded him of another one of his missions for that night. Tommy cleared his throat and tried to get Michael’s attention, jerking his chin towards Arthur who had dozed off.

Michael reached over to jostle his uncle awake and inform him of Linda’s arrival.

Leah was unaware of what was happening until Tommy made a beeline for the driveway. She hadn’t heard the gunshot over the sound of applause, but he certainly had. Other members of the family also made a speedy exit and she was left confused but trying to keep a calm face.

As the ballet dancers took their bows, Leah slipped away from the crowd and attempted to find Tommy and the rest to see what the commotion was about.

But halfway across the lawn, she came across Oswald Mosley.

To her horror, she did recognize the man. He hadn’t changed appearance-wise much since those days. It was also his nature that made him a memorable client. Leah spent the night with him maybe once or twice, but he had a reputation among the other girls who saw him far more often. They remarked that the more they got to know him, the rougher he got. Almost to the point where they considered him violent. Some girls returned with bruises that took weeks to fully heal. Another trait was his overwhelming narcissism.

He smiled devilishly when he saw her. “Mrs. Shelby, I dare say you’ve spent the entire night avoiding me. I can’t say you’ve been a very becoming hostess. Although your husband isn’t much better, to be fair.”

Leah’s jaw clenched and she looked towards the headlights in the driveway. Despite the open lawn around them, she felt trapped by the man’s presence. “I apologize, Mr. Mosley, I’ve been quite busy speaking with other guests.”

“Now see, I do remember you.” He pointed at her as if he had just sparked a memory. “The pretty blonde from Midland, just as I suspected you were.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t seem to recall you.” She replied, daintily lying to him. There was no way in hell she was giving him the satisfaction.

Instead, Mosley just looked amused. A cat playing with a mouse. “Well, if you’d like me to jog your memory, I’ll be staying the night. I was thinking I’d fuck the swan but two women at once is always a treat.”

Leah’s entire body was practically shaking with anger. “You will never ever, lay your hands on me, do you understand? I find you absolutely repulsive.” She spat.

Mosley chuckled. “I understand why Shelby married you, you’ve got quite the little bite, don’t you? He always likes a challenge, doesn’t he? Well, I hope it’s known that if your husband ever betrays me, I will destroy him and his company.” The smug smile didn’t fade off his face. In fact, it appeared he enjoyed threatening her.

Leah stepped toward him, her eyes narrowing. “Do not ever threaten my family.” She snarled. “I suggest you call your car around because you will not be staying another minute in my house.” And with that, she stormed past him and went inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Leah heard Linda screaming from inside. “What happened?” She demanded as she rushed into the dining room.

Tommy grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to guide her out of the room. “I’ll tell you later. Go check on the kids and return to the tent. Tell people nothing’s wrong.”

“I’m not going back outside.” Leah knew that Mosley was out there most likely still blocking the path to the tent. “What happened?” She asked again trying to shake off his grip and see what was going on. She thought it was her business if there was someone dying on her dining room table.

“Leah, listen to me-”

“No!” She shouted back at him. “Not after everything you’ve done tonight. Now tell me what’s happening.”

“Mumma?” Charlie was stood on the stair landing. He was trembling slightly from the noises coming from the dining room.

Tommy and Leah shared a look. “Charles, go back upstairs.” He commanded sternly.

“Go back in there.” Leah hissed at her husband and pushed his hands away from her shoulders. She headed up the stairs to console her son. “It’s okay, it’s just noises from the ballet.” She soothed softly and scooped him up into his arms. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s okay.” There was no telling how many times Leah would be able to say that until the guilt caught up to her.

Once Charlie fell back asleep, Leah closed his door and found the house was quiet again. She stood in the hallway and considered going back downstairs and joining the party again. Maybe she could put on a brave face even after everything that had happened. Then she heard her husband speaking quietly to Mosley. Their voices traveled to the big room before the door closed and their voices became muffled. The man’s voice was enough to convince her to stay upstairs. She would be ecstatic to go the rest of her life without seeing his face ever again. So, she returned to her bedroom and locked the door.

~~~~~~~~

The night passed on and Leah was comfortable in her room, far more comfortable than she would've been downstairs. She watched a few cars leaving while a few guests settled into their rooms for the night. It wasn’t long before the doorknob tried to turn but was inhibited by the lock. She didn’t move to open it; afraid it was Mosley trying to carry out his intentions. She hadn't seen whether he'd left or not.

“Leah?” Tommy knocked. “C’mon, I just want to talk.”

She considered leaving him out but knew there weren’t any empty rooms due to their guests and she didn't want him to disturb the children. With a huff, she stood up and unlocked the door before returning to her spot on the edge of the bed.

Tommy entered cautiously. He didn’t like to admit it but he was thoroughly shaken. After the confrontation with Linda and Mosley’s speech in the tent, he was afraid of what he’d gotten himself into. But it was far too late to turn back. It remained to be seen how that would affect his marriage.

“Mosley said you wouldn’t allow him to stay the night.”

“This is my house just as much as it is yours.” She replied curtly, her eyes refusing to look at him. Her arms crossed over her chest.

“I wasn't questioning that. I just wanted to know why.”

Leah tried to keep her nerve but her lower lip quivered. She was so angry and upset over the disaster of a night. “There was once a time where if a man spoke to me the way he did earlier, I would be afraid you’d kill him. Now I’m afraid that you won’t even listen to how it makes me feel. Let alone that you’d stand up for me.” She whispered.

Tommy’s stomach sank. “You did recognize him.” He surmised. And as a follow-up, he guessed that Mosley had said something to thoroughly upset his wife. That was unacceptable. The man would die.

His wife didn’t answer. Her silence was enough to confirm his suspicion. “I love you, Tommy. I’ve loved you through the worst of the worst. But I can’t understand this. I can’t understand why you’re putting your family on the line.”

He crossed the floor and sat down beside her. “Are you pregnant?”

She let out a short, bitter laugh. “I didn’t think you’d notice until I’d gone into labor.” She replied coldly.

“There are two things I can do.” He reached for her hand. She reluctantly let his fingers interlace with hers. Tommy wasn't going to talk about plan details with her. There was no reason to involve her in the gruesome bits. The further away he could keep her from such things the better. That way if anything was to come crashing down, she wouldn't have any culpability. “We can carry on. And I can promise you that things will get better once my plan goes through. Or I can take you and the kids to stay somewhere safe until then.”

“Where?”

“Purgatory, if you will.” Tommy took a deep breath. “Somewhere discrete and somewhere unknown to my enemies. You’ll be safe there and you won’t have to deal with me.”

Leah looked down at their intertwined hands. “Remember when you tried to ship Charlie and I off to May’s in Surrey, to try and avoid Luca Changretta? Do you remember what I said to you?”

He nodded. “You said you’d be home every night for me when I came home.”

“I’m angry with you, Tommy. I can’t lie to you and say that I’m not. But I know who you are, better than most people. And if I know you, that man will be dead before your plan is through.”

Tommy nodded. “He’ll be dead before our child is born.” He kissed her knuckles. “Believe me when I say that.”

She believed him. “What are you going to do until then?” She asked quietly.

“I’m moving seven tonnes of opium and starting a new party in Parliament.”

~~~~~~~~~

“Three Shelby/Gray girls pregnant.” Polly sighed when she heard the news.

Leah smiled sheepishly. “It was a surprise. We weren’t planning on it. I think we were banking on just two kids and leaving it at that.”

“Well, babies can help calm things down sometimes. Having a family reminds you of your priorities.”

Leah was at Polly’s apartment, Johanna and Charlie were playing downstairs while the two women had tea. Leah was still trying to find her bearings after her birthday party. She knew she needed to trust Tommy but it felt like something was looming over them, waiting to strike and ruin everything. Polly was always a grounding figure even during the most chaotic of times for the family. Leah was always comforted when she got advice from the older woman.

“Tommy gave me the option to take the kids somewhere safer.”

“What did you say to that?”

Leah focused on the way the milk in her tea disappeared in a swirling motion. “I told him I promised to stay with him. Family is meant to stay together.” She chewed on her lip. “Pol, am I being foolish?”

“How many times have you asked me that before?” Polly touched her arm comfortingly. “If you go through life doubting your every move then you’re bound to fail.”

She frowned. “I know you’re right, I just have trouble with-well I just don’t know how to help him anymore. Every time I feel I’ve broken through; I find another wall. It sounds like he’s so close but when I turn around, he’s so far away…”

“I can’t begin to explain love,” Polly said, her eyes wise and gentle. “It’s very strange and frankly it’s fucking idiotic. But for whatever reason God has placed you two together. Now if it’s time to separate-”

“No.” Leah blurted.

Polly raised an eyebrow. “What made you say that so quickly?” Her tone wasn’t accusing or poking fun. Instead, she was trying to turn the mirror onto Leah so she could understand herself. If she couldn’t then how could she understand Tommy? And how could he understand Leah?

“Because,” She paused and thought to herself. It was rare she got quiet time to contemplate over her relationship. Either the kids or life was begging for her attention. Or, she was too deep in an argument with her husband that it skewed her thoughts. If she was alone, she tended to curl up into herself, plagued by the thoughts of hopelessness or questioning her worth as a wife. But being with Polly, a calming presence, she was allowed to step back and think rationally. “Because I know he’s flawed. I’ve known that since I met him. But I also know that he loves me. He loves our children. But he’s so lost in this idea of what he thinks he needs to be. The things he wants from life.” She sighed and rested her forehead against her hand.

“If you want to stay here, please don’t lose focus on what’s important.” Polly reminded her.

Leah nodded and rested a hand on her abdomen. “I suppose Ada, Gina, and I have to start a little club for pregnant women.” She joked half-heartedly.

A sour look crossed Polly’s face when her daughter-in-law was mentioned. “I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.”

“Don’t worry.” She picked up on the way Polly walked on eggshells. “Ada gave me a sort of…warning.”

Polly shook her head. “I love my son but I worry about his intentions. And what influence she has over him. He’s not the same boy who left for America.”

Leah locked her fingers together over her stomach. She tended not to get involved with inter-family politics. There was a fine line that could be broken easily. Trust wasn’t abundant and she was worried bridges could be burned down with the smallest of spark. “Maybe I could meet with her? She might be worried, being in a new country with a baby on the way.”

“That girl isn’t worried.” Polly glanced up at the clock over Leah’s shoulder. “But you may cross paths with her soon.”

“Mummy! Daddy’s here!” Johanna exclaimed from the foot of the stairs.

Leah looked confused and she stood up. As far as she knew, Tommy was meant to be working the entire day. But as she got to the top of the stairs, her husband was coming in. “Tom?”

“Go upstairs, hi, not right now.” Tommy kissed Johanna’s cheek as she held her arms up to be picked up. “Go upstairs.” He repeated breathlessly. “Leah, can you come with me? Charlie and Johanna, you stay here with auntie.”

Polly came out of the parlor. “Tommy? Is something wrong?”

The two kids came skittering up the stairs going to grab onto Polly’s skirt. “Do we get to stay the night?” Johanna asked hopefully.

“Can we go visit Curly and the horses?” Charlie added.

“Hush, hush.” Leah quieted them. “You won’t be staying the night. You’ll just stay here until mum and dad get back.” She explained and went downstairs. “What’s going on?” She whispered to her husband.

He was pale in the face, his eyes wide with shock. Something had clearly rattled him and there were any number of things that could’ve happened. “I’ll explain on the way.” He mumbled back to her and helped her into her coat. “I need you to come to Ada’s with me.”

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malkumtend · 4 years ago

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I Like Your Laugh. (A CrowSquirrel AU) - Chapter 12

Squirrelpaw hadn’t noticed anything off-putting when she woke up.

It had been the gentle steps of paws that had caused her ears to twitch originally. Groggily dragging her eyes from her paws, she noticed a large, grey shape slowly padding out of the mouth of the cave. A pale light filtered around the entrance, casting a splintered glow across the cave. Through her half-awake squint, Squirrelpaw could just about identify the shape as Stormfur.

He’s probably going to go hunting. Squirrelpaw thought, uncurling from her comfy position, or as comfortable a stone floor could be anyway. Better get up, it wouldn’t be fair to let him do it himself. No matter how early it is.

In fact, it would probably be better to get up soon. They’d need their energy if they wanted to get back to the forest to warn their clans. The looming threat of the prophecy Midnight had told the cats still lurked in Squirrelpaw’s mind. Every clan was in danger, it seemed, and Squirrelpaw knew she had to do everything she could to make sure the group got back before any damage could befall the ones they loved.

She couldn’t smell Midnight close by, so the badger must have already headed out as well. Just by the entrance she could see the hulking figures of Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt still fast asleep. Squirrelpaw smiled a little. The siblings had said some cutting things to the other yesterday, so it was nice to see a sign that they had patched things up. It was also nice to think that Brambleclaw had realised how he had been acting towards the others. Squirrelpaw still didn’t trust him completely but the fact that he had apologised to her was a good start.

She just hoped he stuck to his promise to be better. She really did want them to get along, but if Brambleclaw was going to go back to snarling and insulting her, she wasn’t going to just accept it. She could understand if he was stressed, they all were, especially now, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him treat her like that without a taste of his own medicine.

She stretched her paws out. If Stormfur was up, soon all the others would be too. Then they’d all be able to begin their journey back. She turned her neck around to smooth her ruffled pelt, and found herself freezing when she saw the sleeping face of Crowpaw right next to her.

Squirrelpaw felt a sudden joy when she saw him.

Then that joy transformed into a cresting horror.

Oh no. The Thunderclan apprentice’s pupils shrank as she realised that something else had drastically changed. She didn’t know whether to race away from the sleeping tom or to just watch him breathe gently until he woke up. Her heart began to thunder so hard that she felt her head ache.

The previous night whirled in her mind.

She’d been so tired that she couldn’t even remember coming back into the cave. The last thing she could even picture was her head against Crowpaw’s side as they’d looked out into the night. He must have helped me back inside. Squirrelpaw mused, feeling the trace of a smile cross onto her muzzle.

Her heart fluttered.

Her mind pricked her like a thorn to come back to her senses.

Oh… sweet… Starclan, it was true! Squirrelpaw’s head dipped down in defeat, her eyes wide as realisation gleamed like the burning sun.

I really do… ‘like’ him like that, don’t I?

That very thought meant that Squirrelpaw was going against something sacred.

But she was smart enough to admit it was true.

Squirrelpaw didn’t claim to be experienced when it came to feelings like love. Her only priorities had been on advancing as a warrior, she’d never had the time in Thunderclan to think about those kind of things. The only love she was well known to was the one shared between her mother and father. She’d heard all the stories about how Sandstorm had scoffed at the very thought of becoming friends with a kittypet; seeing her parents now, Squirrelpaw still had a hard time believing those stories.

Well, she’d probably be able to believe them a little easier now.

Not that her parents would be any happier.

Squirrelpaw felt an uneasy quiver travel down to her tail. Could she actually admit this so easily? This was against the Warrior code! She just had to look at what happened to Greystripe and his kits to see what a half-clan relationship could do. Not only did it dishonour your clan, it just brought heartache to everyone involved. It was only one clan or nothing. That much was simple.

But even as those thoughts went through her mind, the stuttering of her heart never sated as long as she was looking at the grey apprentice beside her.

Throughout the journey, it had been Crowpaw that had made Squirrelpaw believe in herself so much more. Her actions weren’t foolish to him, they were brave, and he made certain to let her know that. And when he did think she’d gone too far…

She could still feel herself in his paws, the touch of his fur against hers.

The admittance that she wanted more moments like that were proof enough.

Squirrelpaw let out a groan that sounded more like a squeak, hiding her eyes behind her fluffy tail. What do I do now? She had to try and move past it, surely. Her feelings for him weren’t the thing she needed to keep on her mind. Here she was, whining like a mouse-heart, when her home could be have been reduced to rubble just days ago!

What was the point of wallowing about something pointless like this? It wasn’t like Crowpaw felt the same way. Sure, they were friends but Crowpaw had never given any indication that he liked her beyond that.

He cried over you, didn’t he?

Her tail limply hung over her nose as her eyes stared ahead. That was true. Crowpaw was the most stoic, stone cold apprentice she had ever met, and he had actually spilled tears all because he was scared about her safety.

She felt awful for making him do that, yet she also felt a spark of hope.

He had been cold to everyone from the beginning. Yet he had defended her again and again, stuck by her for most days, and didn’t feel uncomfortable to share tongues and, in some cases, comfort with her.

Last night, he’d said he wanted to continue meeting with her.

Squirrelpaw ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips. What if… he does feel like that? She couldn’t believe she was even considering this, but she was. If Crowpaw liked her too… did that mean he would still stand by her, even when they returned to the clans,

They were both stubborn enough to try, she thought.

Squirrelpaw knew she needed to strike herself to shut these incredibly dangerous thoughts up, but it didn’t stop a small grin from coming to her lips at the ideas.

Maybe it would be better if she told him straight away. At least then she’d get a clear answer before they returned to the clans, that would be safer for her at least. Then the worst thing that could happen was him rejecting her. And while… that thought didn’t make her too happy, at least she could focus back on the journey.

And if he did like her that way…

Regrettably, Squirrelpaw felt every strand of her fur tingle with glee.

As if struck by lightning, Squirrelpaw felt an energy pulse through her again, snatching away any tiredness she had felt. Yes, she would get it over with as soon as she could! She was going to be a Warrior after all, and Warrior’s didn’t run away from any battle. Not even themselves. As soon as Crowpaw was awake, she was going to get him away from the group, and just face him head on, whether he liked it or not!

Squirrelpaw smirked, that was definitely the best way to tackle this! Just get one problem out of the way so she could focus on the grander one! Of course it was the best of her, not many, options!

Outside of her vision, a yawn made her flinch. “Oh, morning Squirrelbrain.”

Squirrelpaw’s resolve scurried away like a mouse into a dark hole.

The Thunderclan apprentice twitched like she’d been caught in a bush of twisted thorns. Keep calm. She ushered herself through grit teeth.

“Why are you shaking? Is your fur still soaked?” Crowpaw joked, chuckling in a way that made Squirrelpaw tremble a little.

“N-No!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed, turning to face the cat with as straight a face as she could manage. All the Windclan cat had to do was blink sleepily at her, before she could feel her teeth chatter again, though thankfully not audibly. She hid away her jittering with a furrowed brow. “I’m just getting sick of waiting for you lazy lumps to wake up, that’s all!”

Crowpaw rolled his eyes, standing up to stretch his long limbs with a stifled grunt. “From what I saw, you’re the one who looked like she needed the most sleep.” He jibed, a blue pupil glinting at her through a playful slit.

It turned out Squirrelpaw was able to realise with amazing clarity how hard she was blushing, when she actually liked someone.

“Well, I got it!” Squirrelpaw meowed. She shook herself off quickly. She needed to act natural and fast! “How about you? Think you won’t fall asleep in the mud again?” She said, puffing her tail out in faux confidence.

“Too funny.” Crowpaw mewed coolly, sticking himself out straight. Squirrelpaw’s neck shrank a little into her shoulders as she looked up at him. Had he always been this much taller than her? Had he gone through a weird growth spurt overnight? “But yeah, I slept fine thanks.”

“Oh, good.” Squirrelpaw said, meaning her words a little too much.

“It is.” A gentle voice cut in. Both apprentice’s turned, smiling as Feathertail strode up to them with a glistening mood.

To Squirrelpaw’s credit, the only thing that gave her away was the slight widening of her eyes.

Feathertail.

She was the one of the major things Squirrelpaw hadn’t considered. The apprentice was certain that the Warrior held Crowpaw in high regard, and was almost certain she shared the same feelings for the apprentice that Squirrelpaw did. And why wouldn’t she; the two had become friends with each other before Squirrelpaw had found her way into their small group. In fact, the only reason she had even given Crowpaw the time of day at all was because Feathertail had encouraged her to give him a chance.

Oh, how right the Warrior had been.

“Have you two seen Stormfur?” The Riverclan cat asked.

“I think I heard him outside.” Crowpaw responded, grooming his short fur. “I think he’s talking to Midnight.”

Feathertail gave the apprentice a small smile, Squirrelpaw wondered if she’d seen something else inside of it. An uncomfortable irritation made her ears twitch. Silently she gnashed her jaws together.

“Well then,” Squirrelpaw cried, bursting up to her paws. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get going!” From the way her friends looked to each other, brows raised, she wasn’t acting as normal as she wanted to be.

She didn’t realise how loud she’d been until she heard the tired grumbling of her clanmate. “You know, there’s an easier way to wake cats up.” Brambleclaw drawled, uncurling his body to stretch.

Next to him, Tawnypelt rose, giving her brother a light swat with her tail. “Well, at least we’re awake.” Brambleclaw sniffed with a small laugh, groaning as he unfolded his tense limbs.

“Ugh, how does Midnight manage to sleep on that every night?”

Tawnypelt let out a mrrow of laughter. “What? Is it too tough for you?”

Brambleclaw scoffed. “Could be.” The two siblings shared a smirk, with Brambleclaw letting his sister give him a friendly lick on his cheek.

A gentle purr of delight hummed from Feathertail. “Thank Starclan those two are alright?” She mewed, “I was so worried about them after yesterday.”

Crowpaw nodded gently, his blue eyes misty with thought. Squirrelpaw craned her head, what had him and Brambleclaw actually talked about last night? Did the apprentice have more to do with Brambleclaw’s sudden apology than he’d let on? That would make more sense considering how insufferable Brambleclaw had been until then.

“I know that Brambleclaw’s been… difficult recently,” Feathertail continued, holding onto her politeness. “But you could see how hurt he was by what Tawnypelt had said.”

Squirrelpaw scoffed, “It’d be better if he’d seen how he made the rest of us feel before. Maybe then, Tawnypelt wouldn’t have had to tell him like that.” Just because Squirrelpaw was going to give him a chance, it didn’t mean she was going to be easy on him.

“I know,” Feathertail said slowly, “But they’re still siblings, even if they’re from different clans, they shouldn’t be like that.”

Crowpaw shrugged, “I wouldn’t lose sleep over it.” He said, with unnatural confidence. “I think they’ll be fine.”

Both mollie’s turned to him confused. Of all things, they hadn’t expected Crowpaw to sound so calm about the tom who beaten him just a day ago. “You think so?” Feathertail asked, her tail swaying thoughtfully. Squirrelpaw was just as surprised.

Crowpaw’s whiskers twitched up, “Yes. After that, I think he’s got in in his head how much of a mouse-brain he was.”

“Doesn’t mean he’ll stop.” Squirrelpaw muttered.

Crowpaw laughed out loud. Squirrelpaw felt her cheeks burn. “I can agree with you there. If he starts again, that’ll just mean he’s more flea-brained than I thought.”

Feathertail sighed, “I guess we’ll see for ourselves. I don’t want to be unfair to him though.” She said mildly. She really was the most gentle hearted cats Squirrelpaw had ever met. Any cat who didn’t like her had to have rabbit dung instead of a heart.

The apprentice stopped short though when Crowpaw graciously pressed his nose against her pelt. “You, unfair? It’s more likely that my fur will turn white!.” His tone held the same genial tone that Crowpaw had always used with the Warrior. But it was Feathertail’s reaction that caught Squirrelpaw off guard.

The Riverclan molly’s fur flared around in flattered astonishment, before a warmth glowed across her face. She pressed her tail against his fur in thanks. Squirrelpaw recognised the glow in her eyes. It had first appeared when Crowpaw had saved Feathertail from the dog.

Squirrelpaw felt her throat tighten and her stomach quiver.

She sprang up to her paws, clawing away at her stupid thoughts and tightening her muzzle with a grin. “Okay okay! Enough chattering! Let’s get hunting!” She shouted. She seemed to be acting more naturally as Feathertail giggled while Crowpaw’s tail curled in amusement.

“There’s her focus, right there.”

Squirrelpaw stuck her tongue out at him, her bushy tail flaring as she pranced over to the cave entrance. She inwardly sighed in relief that they hadn’t noticed anything off about her, but there was still that stupid coil in her stomach, that mixture of frustration, regret and pathetic jealousy.

Fox-dung! I need to find a way to get over this!

Neither of her friends were idiots, if she kept on acting like that over every little thing, they would catch her out sooner or later. But wasn’t that what she wanted? To get it out as soon as possible. Eventually, she would need to.

Eventually.

But if Feathertail liked him as well? Squirrelpaw grimaced. Would Feathertail be hurt by her confession? She could just hope that Crowpaw would keep it a secret. But even then, Squirrelpaw would feel like she was betraying the cat she had grown to respect so much. Feathertail didn’t deserve to be hurt. She deserved to be happy. And if that happiness came from Crowpaw then…

Squirrelpaw clenched her teeth. She was overthinking this. So what if Feathertail had looked respectfully towards Crowpaw? Any cat would appreciate him if he was as kind to them as he was to her. Squirrelpaw was probably mistaken. There was no clarity that Feathertail held anything for the apprentice, she might even have someone at Riverclan that her heart belonged to.

Squirrelpaw had to keep her hopes up. If she lost sleep over this it could affect her during the journey.

Her clan was her duty, that was what she needed to lead her.

Despite her attraction to another clan cat.

Squirrelpaw groaned. The sooner they got on their way the better! Her stomach suddenly growled and her face heated up. Though she had been right before, they did need to get hunting.

She blinked away the glowing face of the sun as she found the entrance. “All right, where’s the prey around here? I’m starving!”

“Budge up and let the rest of us out.” Crowpaw said snidely from behind her. “Then we might be able to tell you!” He gave her rump a friendly nudge and she sprang forward, failing at ignoring the tingling where his head had touched her. Crowpaw pounced ahead of her, smirking playfully at her and Feathertail, as the Warrior bounced beside the two then up to her brother who sat by the pebbles talking to Midnight.

In the brightness of the sun, it was hard to tell if the gleaming in Feathertail’s eyes was down to the strong light, or something else entirely.

Squirrelpaw felt her appetite diminish a little. This was going to be harder than she thought.

…

The sun had risen higher into the sky, painting the horizon with a glittering blue. The travelling cats followed Midnight as they began their way back to the forest, all prepared to spring the moment they saw prey.

Squirrelpaw’s stomach continued to growl like a kittypet as she walked beside Stormfur albeit a little sulkily. She had suggested that the group hunt first before they made their journey back, but Brambleclaw had recommended that they hunt along the way. Annoyingly the rest of the group had agreed with the tom, even Crowpaw of all cats. That had stung more than it should have.

It was even more annoying that Squirrelpaw had to admit to herself that her clanmate was right. They didn’t have time to waste, even if they were hungry. Squirrelpaw didn’t have a problem with the fact that she was wrong, but it still seemed to her that Brambleclaw was trying to keep some kind of leadership over the rest of them. Even now, he kept at the head of the group, occasionally looking back at them like they were his responsibility.

However, the urgency in his eyes did look more like concern now, rather than control.

Squirrelpaw sighed. At least he was being helpful if he was going to be bossy.

It was slightly easier moving, now that they knew where they were going. The Prophecy had been told, and Squirrelpaw was part of it now. But the danger that awaited them was impossible to ignore and would remain with them every step of the way.

It would do no good to panic. It wouldn’t help any of them and wouldn’t stop what was coming. They just needed to carry on and pray to Starclan it wasn’t too late.

Like her companions, Squirrelpaw kept her focus on finding prey. They’d need to keep their strength for as long as they could, after all. The air was warm, but a gentle breeze still wavered the long moor grass. Hopefully, it would lead something towards them after a while.

Squirrelpaw’s tail curled as she remembered Crowpaw’s advice from yesterday. She pressed her nose to the swaying grass, trying to catch a scent in the air. She heard a confused mrrow come from Stormfur.

“What are you doing?” He asked softly.

She didn’t answer as she tried to find a smell. Nothing came. Sighing, she rose up again and gave Stormfur a shrug. “It’s a Windclan technique Crowpaw taught me. Looks like it didn’t work this time.” Maybe the wind wasn’t strong enough.

Stormfur’s eyes shifted away, his tail lashing in small irritation. “I see.” Squirrelpaw rose a brow at the annoyance in his eyes. What was his problem?

She was about to speak when she felt her whiskers sway a different way. Along came a mouth-watering scent. Before she could even react, Crowpaw had sprinted off into the direction of a nearby hill. Squirrelpaw could just about see the white tail of the rabbit.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Brambleclaw yelled. Whether Crowpaw heard him or not didn’t matter as his long grey tail disappeared under the green slope of the hill. The Thunderclan Warrior growled in exasperation. “Does he ever listen?”

Squirrelpaw frowned. He’s just trying to catch us some food.

“He won’t be long.” Feathertail mewed with a soothing chuckle. “You could hardly expect him to ignore a rabbit when it pops right under our noses.” Squirrelpaw may have smiled at the Warrior’s defence, but a jealous heat still rushed to her cheeks.

Brambleclaw didn’t snap, but his tail still whipped hotly around.

Squirrelpaw bit her lip, holding back an urge to hiss at her clanmate. He had promised he was going to try harder!

Maybe sensing the growing tension, Stormfur readied himself to follow Crowpaw. “I’ll fetch him back!” The light in the tom’s amber eyes faded as the group saw Crowpaw reappear over the hill. A rabbit almost as big as the apprentice hung from his mouth. Squirrelpaw wasn’t surprised that her friends were even more shocked than her.

Even for Crowpaw, that was fast.

Dragging the rabbit back, Crowpaw dropped it before the cats, his blue eyes coolly looking to Brambleclaw. “That didn’t take long, did it?” Crowpaw meowed, “I suppose we’re allowed to stop and eat it?” He cocked his head to the side, daring someone to object him.

Brambleclaw opened his mouth, frowning, then shut it again as he looked back at the rabbit. The smell was clearly making all of their stomachs groan. The brown Warrior sighed gently, “Of course.” Squirrelpaw’s eyes widened as she saw clear regret in her clanmate’s eyes. Brambleclaw took a breath, his large form relaxing. “Sorry Crowpaw, I’d forgotten how fast Windclan cats can be. This…” His voice became soft. “This moorland must feel like home to you.”

An small uneasiness crept into Crowpaw’s gaze, he quickly looked away with a sharp nod. “It’s fine. Now let’s eat.” Brambleclaw didn’t respond, but there was a grateful warmth around him. Something glowed inside Squirrelpaw at her clanmate’s small action.

It was a small apology, but it was an apology nonetheless.

Maybe, just maybe, the cat was changing for the better.

Maybe she’d get back her friend again.

As the cats began to eat, Brambleclaw turned and found Squirrelpaw looking at him. He swallowed hard, his back fur quivering a little as the apprentice looked blankly at him. They shared a look for a few seconds. He took in a cold breath and smiled softly at the cat, a heavy look in his eyes.

Squirrelpaw didn’t smile, but she nodded softly at him. She wasn’t entirely sure yet. But that little moment, it was certainly better than before.

She gulped down her share of the rabbit, sighing as her hunger settled. It wouldn’t be enough on its own, but it was a good start to the day. She inwardly grinned. Crowpaw was proving himself to the group, little by little. Her fur quivered with delight. Looking around, every cat looked happier thanks to the cat’s catch.

Except Stormfur.

The Riverclan tom held a strange apprehensiveness in his stare, his tail clearly twitching with agitation. Squirrelpaw slid her gaze to where he was looking and she too held her eyes on the sight. Feathertail ate beside Crowpaw, close enough to be touching pelts, but it wasn’t that that made Squirrelpaw unsettled. It was the radiance that glittered in Feathertail’s eyes.

Ah. So Stormfur saw it too. He had the same suspicions as her.

It would make sense. Stormfur had full experience of what a half-clan relationship meant. It was only natural that he was worried, if he saw that look that his sister gave to a different clan cat.

The voice in Squirrelpaw’s head that told her she was overreacting suddenly sounded much more desperate. Kind of like begging.

It was still possible that Feathertail’s admiration was for Crowpaw’s hunting abilities. Any cat would appreciate that.

Looking at him, Squirrelpaw admired things about Crowpaw as well.

The shine of his fur in the cool sun, as well as the confidence that stuck out in his form, pulsing in his eyes. They looked much more striking.

Squirrelpaw began to swallow more out of necessity than pleasure. It was harder to focus on her hunger now she realised how handsome Crowpaw was.

…

It was Sunhigh by the time the group had reached the forest. In a turn of luck, bad luck if Crowpaw’s expression was to say anything, Purdy had kept his promise and had stayed at the forest edge until they returned.

Squirrelpaw hadn’t been the biggest fan of the past kittypet, especially considering his questionable sense of directions, but she still respected that he had been of help to them in the Two-leg place. Plus, the fact he had been willing to spring at Midnight, when she could have easily killed him with one blow, it was respectful to say the least.

Luckily that hadn’t turned into any trouble. And now it was time to hunt for real, before they returned to their travels.

Brambleclaw had suggested they meet up at their old camp, before he and Tawnypelt had stalked away on their own. Squirrelpaw had turned to Crowpaw and Feathertail, assuming they would hunt together, and found Feathertail awkwardly glancing away from the hard gaze of Stormfur. Squirrrelpaw’s tail dropped, so he still didn’t trust the thought of them.

Not that the idea was any more pleasant to Squirrelpaw.

Feathertail flushed with obvious embarrassment. “W-Why don’t we all hunt together?” She mewed, her stare pleading towards her brother. “We’d all do better as a group.”

“Sounds good to me.” Crowpaw added, he looked over to Stormfur welcomingly.

Stormfur looked away, his neck fur prickling. “No.” Stormfur griped, turning with an annoyed swing of his tail. A clear pang of hurt welled in Feathertail’s eyes, her ears dropping back. “I’m fine on my own.” Stormfur either didn’t notice or didn’t care as he padded away into the bushes. Squirrelpaw could see his teeth on display in a grimace.

Squirrelpaw heard his rustling lessen before turning back to her friends. Feathertail’s tail was limp on the ground as she looked down at her paws, wounded. Squirrelpaw felt pity rush through her, it was awful to see Feathertail upset.

At least Crowpaw was there to comfort her.

He shook his head in annoyed confusion before he rubbed against Feathertail’s pelt cordially. “Don’t worry about him. Whatever has gotten burrs stuck in his fur, he’ll get over it. Don’t let it get to you.”

Feathertail still looked upset, but she pressed her tail against the apprentice in appreciation. There was also the flicker in her eyes again.

Squirrelpaw found herself looking away from the two as well.

“Squirrelpaw!” Crowpaw called, “Are you coming?” He was inviting her, he still wanted her there. But Squirrelpaw couldn’t find the energy like before. Not like this.

Fumbling, she kept her gaze away until she was looking at the bushed where Stormfur had disappeared. A quick spark erupted in her brain. “Actually, I might go catch up with Stormfur and hunt with him.”

Crowpaw rose a brow while Feathertail looked up with interest. “Oh.” Crowpaw made a puzzled mrrow. “Are you sure? He said he’d be fine alone.”

Squirrelpaw rolled her tail dismissively, “Of course, he’d say that. But it’s like Feathertail said, we’ll all do better in a group. I’ll go help him; you two will be fine together.” The last word was more straining to say.

“I would really appreciate that Squirrelpaw.” Feathertail mewed with a soft smile. “He would get on better if he had some cat to help him.”

Crowpaw’s tail curled, “Yeah, but are you sure he’d want Squirrelpaw there?”

The Thunderclan apprentice scowled, her fluffy chest puffing out in offence. “Why wouldn’t he? The forest is my kind of territory, you know?”

“I know that. It’s just…” Crowpaw gave Feathertail a stiff glance, his brow creased. Feathertail laughed with a wave of her tail.

“I’m sure he’d love her company.” Feathertail’s whiskers rose, a strange smirk rising on her face. Squirrelpaw cocked her head as Crowpaw nodded with an exasperated sniff.

“What’s going on?”

Crowpaw flicked his tail. “Never mind.”

Feathertail took a tentative step towards her. “Are you sure you don’t want to hunt with us? We can come with you if you like.”

Squirrelpaw shook her head, a little too forcefully. She took a leap away towards the bushes. “I’ll be fine! All the prey won’t be in one place, after all.” She crafted a playful smirk, “I’ll see you guys later. Make sure Crowpaw doesn’t trip over his paws, okay Feathertail!”

“I heard that!” Crowpaw yowled over Feathertail’s laughter as the ginger apprentice pranced away.

“You were supposed to, mouse-brain!” She sang back. Squirrelpaw jumped through the undergrowth, shaking off any leaves that got caught in her fur. Now she was out of sight, she let her artificial smile break.

Pathetic. She didn’t even have the heart to be around her own friends. Not when the question still dug into her like the teeth of a pack of dogs.

Starclan above! She was supposed to be a Warrior! The hero of the forest’s daughter!

And she couldn’t even look a cat in the eye without wanting to melt.

She was gifting the two time together, why? She wanted to believe that she was a good friend supporting the idea that Feathertail did like Crowpaw and giving the two some time to bond.

She knew that wasn’t the truth.

Because every time she did see a sign of that possibility, she felt a burning misery.

She just wanted to get away from that.

A flashing pain pounded on her head. Grumbling, she looked up, letting out a low moan when she saw the cause. “Stupid tree.” She needed to be on her guard. Even if she was looking for Stormfur, she still needed to hunt for herself.

It would do her some good.

Her senses shot around until a familiar musk hit her. And it wasn’t of any kind of prey. At least he didn’t go far.

Squirrelpaw followed the scent of Riverclan until she found Stormfur beside a small stream rushing along a crack in the forest. His ears were fixed downwards, and his head was turned towards the water. Along his back his fur was still spiked with distaste. Squirrelpaw stepped towards him. “Any fish?”

Stormfur sprang a little, turning to the apprentice with fur prickled in alarm. Squirrelpaw held back a laugh. Stormfur stiffened himself, whiskers swirling shamefully. “Oh, it’s you Squirrelpaw. Um, no, The water’s too shallow for fish.”

Squirrelpaw sighed. “Bad luck. Still, found anything yet.”

“Just a mouse. It’s buried over there.” His tail swung towards land where a grand elm tree stood tall. “So, not that I mind.” His voice quavered, “But what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be hunting with my sister and Crowpaw.”

Squirrelpaw shrugged, “Those two will do fine themselves. I thought I’d come and give you some help.”

Stormfur’s face brightened but he still kept still. “Oh, I, uh, I appreciate that. But I said I’d be fine alone.” He said. Squirrelpaw thought he was trying to look bigger than he was. This cat really could be weird.

“Well, I say, we’ll hunt better as a group. And even if you say no, I’m still going to follow you.” She said, lashing her tail to say that was the end of it.

“But-”

“But nothing.” Squirrelpaw meowed, she strolled up to him and gave him a nudge. She could smell squirrel and mice around. “Come on, we’ll go this way.”

Squirrelpaw paced ahead, but she still turned back to wait for Stormfur. The Warrior stood there, nonplussed, a moment longer before sighing with a smiling resignation. Squirrelpaw smiled back. She didn’t know why Stormfur needed to make such a big deal of it.

Then again, she probably couldn’t talk much.

They hunted together, ears pricked and ready. Squirrelpaw had been right, they had worked much better together. Stormfur had been able to find a pair of mice that the two had quickly silenced and buried under the pile. The tom had almost missed a squirrel as it scrambled up a tree, but Squirrelpaw had been able to jump up and catch it before it escaped. Stormfur had nodded with respect as she dispatched the prey. Squirrelpaw had thanked him with a playful bow.

It was good Stormfur was there though, he could carry much more than Squirrelpaw could. They still had time to catch some more, and the aroma of vole lingered in the air, making their mouths water. It hadn’t been long before Stormfur had found the creature and was carrying it back in his teeth.

Squirrelpaw felt impressed at the obvious experience of the Warrior, many Thunderclan cats had told her that Riverclan was a nest of lazy cats who’d rather sleep in the sun than hunt. That couldn’t be less true when she saw Stormfur. He never looked away or unfixed as he stalked the scent he had found, and he was certainly just as strong as any Warrior she knew. Sure the was a strange hesitation around him that Squirrelpaw couldn’t identify, but it wasn’t so distracting that it threw the cat off of his work.

It just hit Squirrelpaw then how impactful this journey really had been. Excluding the obvious, she knew that wouldn’t believe any stories about the other clans again, she didn’t see these cats as rivals but as friends that would forever change how she saw the Clans themselves. And she couldn’t have been more happy about it.

“There.” Stormfur exclaimed as he dropped the vole onto the pile. “That should be enough.”

Squirrelpaw let out a proud chirp as she began to uncover the prey. “See! I told you we’d work better as a team! Let’s get these back to the others, I’m so hungry I could eat a toad!”

Squirrelpaw heard Stormfur chuckle as she began to collect the prey, but it was short and weak. Flicking an ear, Squirrelpaw looked up, becoming concerned when she saw Stormfur looking down with a hazy expression.

Squirrelpaw laid the prey down again. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

Stormfur exhaled, a guilty aura looming over him. “I should have gone with you guys.”

“Huh?”

He let out a frustrated moan. “I’m supposed to be here to watch over Feathertail. I shouldn’t have just left her like that.” He raked his paw across the ground, scowling at thin air. “What if something’s happened to her?”

Squirrelpaw approached the cat, her eyes tender on him. It really was cute how close he was to Feathertail. “Nothing will have happened to her.” She mewed, rubbing her tail against his pelt. “Feathertail can fend for herself, besides she has Crowpaw with her.”

Squirrelpaw could immediately tell those had been the wrong words, as Stormfur glowered, bending over as his amber eyes blazed. “So, she does.”

The venom in his tone wasn’t strong, but it was obvious enough that Squirrelpaw found herself frowning. “What’s your problem with Crowpaw?” She demanded, her neck fur spiking. “I thought you and him were starting to get along!”

Stormfur actually looked cowed at her reaction as he visibly edged away. His tail trailed dust as it wavered from side to side. Closing his eyes, Stormfur let out a soft hiss of irritation. “Ugh! You’ve seen what they’re like, right?”

The strength in Squirrelpaw’s stance reeled. She just about managed to feign ignorance. “What?” She said, her voice shamefully high-pitched.

Stormfur turned, bent over as he steamed. “I know you’re not mouse-brained, Squirrelpaw. You’ve seen how they act around each other.” He padded over to where the stream chattered, staring down at his reflection.

Squirrelpaw wanted to speak up, but Stormfur was only echoing her own thoughts back to her. Actually, the fact another cat shared her assumptions made them look alarmingly accurate. Stormfur knew Feathertail better than anyone.

She must have looked off as Stormfur only glanced at her once before making a bitter chuff. “See, you have noticed!” He returned his eyes to the water, shoulders rising “What could she honestly see in that apprentice?!”

Despite herself, Squirrelpaw’s eyes darted up to the Warrior with a glare. Don’t talk about him like you actually know him! Luckily, she had regained enough control to not say her thoughts out loud, but what she did say was still cold. “Hmm, what could a cat see in an apprentice?”

Stormfur flinched, looking back at her with guilt in his eyes. “Sorry Squirrelpaw. I didn’t mean it like that.” He murmured, his flossy tail trailing on the ground.

The ginger molly softened. She knew that Stormfur wasn’t trying to be hurtful, he wasn’t that kind of cat. “It’s alright.” Squirrelpaw mewed, her own voice growing gentle. “I’m sorry too. I know you’re just worried about Feathertail.”

Stormfur smiled graciously, but he returned his downcast head to his reflection. Squirrelpaw’s ears went back in pity. She went over to the stream, sitting beside the grey tom. He looked down with a misty expression. “I just can’t see how it couldn’t bother them. They’re in different clans!”

Squirrelpaw’s smile tightened. “They might just be friends, Stormfur.”

Stormfur turned to her unhappily. “I want that to be true, Squirrelpaw. But Feathertail… I’ve never seen her act like how she does around him.” Squirrelpaw pressed her teeth together as Stormfur went on. “What happens if they do like each other that way? They can’t just expect the clans will accept it! They could end up exiled, or worse!”

I know.

Squirrelpaw exhaled, gazing off into the distance. “Have you tried asking Feathertail how she feels about him?”

Stormfur scoffed, “Have you?”

The apprentice looked up at him icily. “It never bothered me before.” She lied. “Crowpaw told me you were okay with him and Feathertail being friends.”

Stormfur looked aside, exhaling deeply. “I am. I’m not against Crowpaw as a cat.” Squirrelpaw felt a small relief at that, even though she could sense there was a ‘but’. “I do trust him. I just… I just don’t want Feathertail to get herself hurt.”

“Crowpaw would rather hurt himself before hurting Feathertail!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed, her tail flaring up again.

“I know!” Stormfur insisted. “But it still doesn’t change that they will get themselves hurt if I’m right.” The grey tom struck a paw at his reflection, hissing as his saw his murky face ripple across the water. Squirrelpaw still frowned, but she couldn’t argue. Stormfur wasn’t wrong. And in the end, he was just desperately worried about his dear sister. She couldn’t hold that against him.

Besides, it wasn’t like he knew his words were affecting her as well.

What was she going to do when this was all over? Regardless of whether Feathertail did like Crowpaw or not, it didn’t change how there were barriers that blocked Squirrelpaw from him as well.

Firestar was protective enough of her when she had hung around Bramblestar.

She dreaded to think what he would do if he found out who she was really attracted to.

Squirrelpaw found her own reflection in the stream. Wavering around without direction on the surface of a hollow space. She blinked when she saw the dolour fogging her eyes, closing and opening until she felt she could see her face a little more clearly.

For a brief moment, Squirrelpaw felt like she could see what she��d been before the journey had started.

But that was kittish. It was never going to be like that again.

“I don’t know, Stormfur.” Squirrelpaw said with a swift tiredness. She hated how small she sounded. “I just want to get back home.”

She wanted all these questions in her heart to be answered, whether she liked the answers or not.

Thankfully, Stormfur seemed to accept that answer, he curled his tail around Squirrelpaw’s back. “I know. I do too.” He stated placidly. The two sat in silence, looking down towards the water. Squirrelpaw felt Stormfur twitch a little. “There’s a much bigger river than this at home…obviously,” He added in with a small laugh, “It’s full of fish at every mark. Me and Feathertail learnt how to swim in it together.” Stormfur smiled at his recollections, the peaceful imagery washing over Squirrelpaw with a sympathetic rush. Stormfur’s muzzle thinned, his voice growing faint. “I wonder if it’s still there.”

Squirrelpaw returned his touch, rubbing against him soothingly. “It’s going to be fine.” She grinned up at him with a flicker in her green eyes. “Because even if it isn’t, there’s a much bigger river out there somewhere! And you and Feathertail are going to lead your clan to it!”

Stormfur laughed, “Isn’t that the dream.” He meowed. He looked down at the apprentice, something glimmering in his stare for a moment before he turned away with a sigh. “I just hope Feathertail will be happy when it happens.”

Would Feathertail be happy if she had to leave the cat she cared about?

Squirrelpaw knew how she’d feel.

“Don’t worry about that.” The Thunderclan cat declared, getting up to return to the buried prey. “You ought to ask her. Now come on, I’m starting to digest myself, I’m so hungry!”

The Riverclan tom looked on for a moment before rising up as well, clear wonder in his expression. “Do you actually think she’d tell me?”

Squirrelpaw picked up whatever she could carry. “You’re her brother, aren’t you?” She said, her voice muffled by her full mouth. She wandered away to the direction of the camping sight, slowing down so Stormfur could catch up, but not looking back at him.

She didn’t want to think about those questions anymore.

It was far too exhausting. And it was painful to know they weren’t going away anytime soon.

…

The journey had changed with the rising of the sun.

Midnight had informed them that there was a quicker way to reach home than the Twolegplace, which had suited the group fine until they realised where she was pointing them towards.

Into the direction of the sun. It hung above the sharp tops of the mountain range.

It had been a close vote among the cats, but there was a common feeling of how dire their time was running out that led them towards the latter option. It was unknown territory, but they figured it couldn’t be anymore harder than what they had all faced already. So, the cats had said their goodbyes to Midnight and Purdy, before setting off towards the stones that splintered the clouds.

It hadn’t been too hard at the start, the rock was smooth and not too slippery, and to his credit, Brambleclaw seemed to lead them to paths that weren’t too steep to climb at all.

But as they’d grown higher up, the paths had thinned, and the air had grown colder. Soon they were balancing themselves on thin ridges jutted out from the body of the mountain. Every cat had had to rely on another to balance them at some point. At the very least, the trust the cats now shared was more obvious than ever.

It didn’t mean that any of them were any calmer though.

Squirrelpaw felt her heart in her ears as she carefully held herself on the ridge before her. The others ahead looked just as nervous, even Brambleclaw who’s heavy breathing could be heard from the back of the line. No cat judged him for it. A breeze had met the cats as they walked along, and every cold wisp that made Squirrelpaw’s whiskers twitch made the freezing fear in her belly even stronger.

“You’re doing fine.” Stormfur said, he traversed behind her at the back of the group, just in case any predator tried to sneak up on the group from behind.

Squirrelpaw meant to mutter a thank you, but it was warbled by tense worry. She was trying her hardest to keep her eyes ahead, but the corner of her eye was amazingly vivid, capturing the view that showcased a river, as thin as a whisker from their height, that awaited any cat that was unfortunate enough to drop.

Bad thoughts! Bad thoughts! Squirrelpaw grinded her teeth and pressed on. Just keep moving forward.

In front of her, Tawnypelt shifted on with equal strength. “How much further, Brambleclaw?” She called. Her brother had reached a turn at the mountain-face and not even a second later there was a sudden shout of frustration.

“No!”

Squirrelpaw flinched, leaning to the mountain, so she didn’t lose her balance. The other cats looked equally disturbed. “What is it?” Stormfur shouted.

No cat responded until every cat had made their way around the turn. For a moment, Squirrelpaw felt her worries loosen as she found the others at a wider slab of stone that let the cats all rest together. However, her mouth dropped in horror as she saw the edge ahead of them.

There was a gap between the ridge they currently inhabited and the next solid ground. It wasn’t too far, but the expanse of twisted trees and rough stone that lay at the bottom made it look so much bigger.

“Sh-Should we go back?” Stormfur suggested. Squirrelpaw’s belly twisted at the thought of braving that ridge again, but the drop ahead didn’t look any better.

Brambleclaw’s face twisted into a squint, “Look over there!”

The cats did, and sure enough they saw what he was looking at. On the other side of the drop, the stone was undeniably smoother and wider, more than enough to hold the cats without difficulty.

“There’s bushes growing over there as well!” Feathertail exclaimed. “There might be prey!”

Crowpaw took a step near the edge and sniffed. His eyes brightened. “I can smell rabbits over there!”

“Should we risk it though?” Stormfur mumbled, his eyes wide on the drop below. “It’s a good leap.”

“Its’s not like back there’s any easier.” Brambleclaw started forward, driven by his instincts. Then he paused, his ears dropping back as his tail rested on the stone floor. He looked to the other side, clearly longing to waste no time, but he sighed and retreated on his haunches, looking to the others. “But if you all feel safer going that way, we can.”

Squirrelpaw could tell each cat was trying to hide how surprised they were by her clanmate’s attitude. It wasn’t long ago that he had practically forced them to follow whatever he said was best. But each cat was clearly pleased by what he said. Squirrelpaw could have thought she was ill by the admiration she felt for the Warrior.

Maybe he can make a good leader. When he’s not being a mouse-brain.

Luckily for Brambleclaw, a vote on the matter wasn’t needed. As Crowpaw was clearly preparing himself to spring. “We can’t just stand here as if we’ll grow wings!” He meowed. Before any cat could stop him, he sprang from the ledge. Squirrelpaw’s throat clenched as she saw him in the air, overwhelmed by the thought of him falling. His name was in her throat as he landed, his paws gracefully meeting the stone.

He let out a satisfied puff of air, glancing back to the others with a grin. “Come on, it’s easy!”

Squirrelpaw felt her insides settle, but her eyes went red with anger. He shouldn’t have just jumped off like that without warning! Despite how brave he was, his action could have easily gone wrong! She couldn’t even blame Brambleclaw for how furious he looked at the apprentice’s sudden decision.

Squirrelpaw sighed. Oh, what good will it do to moan about it? They had to follow Crowpaw’s lead now, or else they’d have to just leave him there, he would never be able to jump back to the narrow rock.

Squirrelpaw shook her head. When I get over there, I’m raking his muzzle!

“I’ll go next.” Feathertail offered. Squirrelpaw wondered if it was because the Warrior could sense the other’s annoyance with Crowpaw. She felt annoyance bristle her fur again, trying to block out Stormfur’s words. Feathertail waited a moment before leaping over; Crowpaw readied himself at the other end to steady her if she stumbled. Fortunately, the Riverclan molly landed with a steady thud, and she grinned to Crowpaw with a wave of her tail.

Squirrelpaw felt her paws growing hot.

“All right. Who’s next?” Brambleclaw asked.

“I’ll go!” Squirrelpaw said immediately, walking up to the ledge with her tail flared irritably.

Brambleclaw stiffened, “You don’t have to-”

“I will!” Squirrelpaw hissed, twisting to her clanmate with green fire. She saw Brambleclaw back off, his lips tight. The ginger molly felt her anger evaporate, replaced by a sudden guilt. Brambleclaw hadn’t been the one to annoy her, she couldn’t go at him for nothing. “Sorry.” She mumbled, “But, I’ll be fine. Okay?”

Brambleclaw nodded graciously, a small peace in his eyes.

“See you over there.” Squirrelpaw mewed. She placed her forepaws on the ledge and put pressure into her back legs. She couldn’t mess this up. She steadied her gaze on the other ledge where her friends stood and clenched down the fear in her gut. Pushing herself on her back legs, she leapt into the air, not looking down as she felt the wind traveling in her face.

Her front paws met the stone first but Squirrelpaw felt terror wrack her as she realised her back paws wouldn’t meet the stone. I’m going to fall!

As her stomach hit the crooked edge with a grunt, she could have squealed in terror. She felt her heart in her mouth as her back legs began to fall down, but a strong set of jaws held her scruff, steadying her on the stone as her legs swung in the open air. She scrambled forward, pulled up by the force on her scruff until her belly was resting safely on the stone.

Squirrelpaw was breathing so heavily that she almost did not hear the yowl. “Are you okay?”

Pulling her panting face from the stone, she quivered as she saw Crowpaw standing above her. His blue eyes were wide with concern that made her breathing slow. “I-I’m fine!”

“You did great!” Brambleclaw called from the other side, his voice higher than normal. Squirrelpaw looked back and saw him exhaling with obvious relief. She waved her tail at him thankfully.

Squirrelpaw felt a tender nudge at her side and saw Feathertail ushering her to get up. “You did really well.” The Warrior mewed. Squirrelpaw knew she was just being kind. How could she have let herself stumble like that?

“I would have fallen for sure if you hadn’t caught me.” She looked up again at Crowpaw, the warmth inside her swelling uncontrollably. She could actually feel her eyes drifting as Crowpaw smiled down at her.

“Hey, you still made it, didn’t you?” He simpered, “Just because Squirrel’s in your name, it doesn’t mean you can leap like one.”

Squirrelpaw might have raked his eyes for that earlier, now she just batted his face away with her paw. “Don’t ruin this, rabbit-brain.” She said, getting up to her paws and shaking the loose bits of rock out of her fur. She noticed how close she was to Crowpaw and blushed.

Her breath stopped again as a thought entered her mind. She glanced over to Feathertail, and found the cat preparing herself at the edge in case another cat stumbled. She didn’t seem to mind at all when Crowpaw was with Squirrelpaw. At least, not as obviously affected Squirrelpaw felt when Feathertail was near him.

Did that mean Feathertail wasn’t interested in Crowpaw? Or was she just stronger when it came to hiding her feelings?

Possibly she was just a stronger cat than Squirrelpaw.

Nothing made Squirrelpaw feel any better about it. Nothing was clarified or denied.

Like the drop that could have claimed her, it was just a gaping unknown.

…

Finally, things were beginning to look better. After the cats had all made it to the other side, they’d decided it was the perfect time to hunt. On the other side of the ledge, the stone had linked with a wide valley growing on the mountain side between two rifts. There was even a small trickling stream where the cats had been able to gain a well-deserved drink.

The cats all rested on a small slope where bushes and a few trees stood out gloriously. It was so much more satisfying to relax after how tricky that ridge had been.

Squirrelpaw had come to a familiar decision.

After Crowpaw and Feathertail had volunteered to go hunting again, the ginger molly was beginning to grow tired of her lack of answers. It was clear that she wasn’t going to find out if Feathertail liked the tom or not, so she was going to take care of another issue in the meantime.

She was going to tell Crowpaw how she felt.

She’d had enough of wasting her time with her guts in knots. Once he got back, she was going to get some kind of answer from him, and then maybe she wouldn’t have to spend her time getting so darn frustrated anymore.

The two cats had returned with mouths full of prey. As the cats ate up their shares, Squirrelpaw made sure she was next to Crowpaw. She nudged him with her tail, making him look up curiously.

“What is it?”

“Once you’re done, can you meet me over there?” She pointed her tail in the direction of a pair of thick bushes. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Crowpaw raised a brow, “Can we talk about it here?”

Not a chance!

“No!” Squirrelpaw meowed in a hushed voice. “Just meet me over there, all right?”

Crowpaw swung his tail in exasperation, but he didn’t argue. “Okay, sure.”

Squirrelpaw beamed. “Thank you!”

It didn’t take long for Squirrelpaw to finish her share after that, she gulped the prey down and padded away from the cats. She gave Crowpaw a wink as she made her way to the bushes. He rolled his eyes and continued eating, but he was evidently amused.

Squirrelpaw found the back of the bush and let out a deep breath. It was suddenly hitting her what she was just about to do. She stamped her paw on the ground with a growl. Come on! Don’t be a mouse-heart! This is exactly why you’ve been so pathetic all day! Just tell him how you feel and be done with it, for the love of Silverpelt!

What was she even meant to say? Should she just blurt it out when he came around the bush? How would he even react? She still didn’t know definitively if he liked her or not.

Well then, you’re about to find out.

Good Starclan, the little voice didn’t care about any kind of consequences at all.

But it was really persuasive.

There was no point in fighting it anymore. It wasn’t just that it was affecting how she saw Crowpaw, it was tainting her perception of Feathertail. That made Squirrelpaw feel awful. She remembered how annoyed she’d gotten seeing the two of them on the peak. And then Feathertail had made her look like a fool when she nuzzled Squirrelpaw’s side, beyond worried about her.

No cat deserved this. Squirrelpaw just wanted everything between them to be normal again. But it was her own fault she felt like this, and she needed to take some action herself. She couldn’t just wait around for Feathertail or Crowpaw to say something.

“What did you need, Stormfur?”

Squirrelpaw’s full stomach almost came out of her mouth when she heard the Riverclan molly’s voice. Perking her ears up, she craned her head around the bush. Stormfur and Feathertail had wandered away from the group, sitting together by the small stream that ran down the mountain side. Feathertail’s faced away from Squirrelpaw, but the apprentice could see discomfort darknening Stormfur’s expression.

The grey cat let out a low hiss of breath. “Listen Feathertail, you and Crowpaw-”

Squirrelpaw’s eyes widened, he was actually going to ask her about it?! She kept herself hidden, but her ears were alert like she was hunting on a monster-path.

So it was easy to hear the sharpness in Feathertail’s reply. “What about Crowpaw?” Feathertail’s fur bristled as she growled. “You are all so unfair to him!”

Her voice was hard and defensive, hidden like an adder in the grass. Squirrelpaw felt her jaw drop at the Warrior’s anger.

Would she get so angry over a friend?

Y-You’d do the same! It doesn’t mean anything!

“That’s not the point!” Stormfur spoke like he was treading on the ridge again. “What’s going to happen when we get home? Crowpaw’s in a different clan.”

See, this is it. She’ll become confused and deny everything he thinks and then you can shut up and get on with everything.

“We don’t even know if there will be clans anymore.” Feathertail protested. Squirrelpaw quivered and her breathing became cold. “We’ll be leaving the forest remember!”

Squirrelpaw’s ears dropped down but she still listened carefully. W-Why isn’t she denying anything?

“Do you think the clan boundaries will just vanish because we have to leave?” Stormfur scoffed.

“Have you forgotten already what Midnight said?!” Feathertail snapped. Her tone was cold and unflinching. Unafraid. “The Clans won’t survive if we don’t work together!”

She just has to say no. Squirrelpaw’s tail began to sink to the ground. She blinked desperately. She could just be talking about friendships! That’s still a boundary in itself! It doesn’t mean she-

“And have you forgotten what happens when cats from different clans get together?” Stormfur’s voice pounded in Squirrelpaw’s ears, growing louder as if by some cruel echo. “Look at how our father is torn between two clans! You and I nearly died because we were half-clan! Tigerstar would have killed us if Thunderclan hadn’t rescued us!”

This was it. This was to the point. Feathertail had to face Stormfur’s worries now. She just had to tell him it was a mis-

“But Tigerstar’s gone now. There won’t be another cat in the forest.”

Around her, Squirrelpaw suddenly felt like she was falling. Her ear was crooked and twitching as she listened on. The sibling’s voices grew hazy, like they were at the back of a cave.

“Midnight said all the clans will have somewhere else to live.” Feathertail meowed with a passionate defiance. “Everything will be different.”

The little voice didn’t make a sound over Squirrelpaw’s small whimper.

Stormfur moaned lightly, “But you and Crowpaw…”

“I’m not going to talk about me and Crowpaw!” Feathertail sighed, her voice lowering. “I’m sorry, Stormfur, but this has nothing to do with you.”

Squirrelpaw didn’t listen to Stormfur’s reply, she sat down on her haunches, hidden in the shadows of the bush. She stared down at the ground, Feathertail’s words spiralling around her head.

This has nothing to do with you.

Feathertail’s voice sounded more like Squirrelpaw’s then.

Squirrelpaw looked up, her throat full of a horrible dryness that made her gulp down something raw. She’d gotten an answer to one of her questions. It wasn’t as satisfying as she’d hoped.

She likes him. She admitted it to her own brother. Squirrelpaw might have admired Feathertail if she wasn’t sick with a stupid indiscretion.

She sat there, breathing in chilling, uncomfortable air as she thought about what happened next?

What did happen next?

She liked the same cat as one of her good friends. That was inescapable. And it made Squirrelpaw feel guilty.

Like she was betraying Feathertail by feeling like this.

Betraying one of the cats who had treated her with the most kindness…

Did that mean that Squirrelpaw was intruding on them? While there wasn’t anything to say that Crowpaw liked Feathertail back, the thought of possibly taking the one Feathertail loved away from her was appalling.

Taking away something that made Feathertail happy? The one cat who deserved to be happy more than anyone she knew.

Sure, it wasn’t certain that it could work out, even if Squirrelpaw kept her mouth shut. Like Stormfur had said, it was naïve to assume that generations of the Warrior Code would go away just because there was a new forest.

But, like Feathertail said, if the rules did change… If they could become happy together… Then it would be more likely to become reality if Squirrelpaw didn’t speak up.

But what did Squirrelpaw want?

What she wanted most; she knew. But she also knew that she wanted the best for Feathertail as well. And now she knew that she liked Crowpaw, it was clear what she needed to do to make her happy.

She also knew how much it would hurt her.

Squirrelpaw’s ears twitched as she heard approaching paws. She straightened herself quickly, sniffing back anything that was about to pour out of her and leave her open. She looked at the bush as soon as Crowpaw edged past it.

The grey apprentice held a curious expression, his tail curled as he sat in front of the Thunderclan cat. “So, what did you want to tell me?” He asked, cleaning blood from one of his paws.

He kept his eyes on his friend as she looked down for a moment. He couldn’t see the battle taking place, and he wasn’t able to tell that her anger was a mockery of her own design. He winced as she batted his face with unsheathed claws, catching him across the ear.

“Hey!” Crowpaw snarled, his tail lashing in a fury. “What was that for?”

“You being a flea-brain, that’s what?” Squirrelpaw hissed, squaring him up. “What were you thinking, jumping acrossthe ridge like that without letting us have a say in the matter?”

“Is that what this was about?” Crowpaw bleated, patting over his sore ear. “I thought it was something important.”

“It is important!” Squirrelpaw seethed, making Crowpaw step back with a frown. “You told me I shouldn’t put myself in danger, and you do something like that!”

Crowpaw groaned, “It wasn’t like it was a far jump!”

“I would have fallen if it wasn’t for you! But what if you hadn’t made it! No one would have been there to catch you!” Squirrelpaw turned away from him, whipping his muzzle with her tail.

Crowpaw began to mutter, “I still made it, didn’t-” He droned off, his confidence fading as he realised what he was saying. Squirrelpaw realised it to, who he was mirroring, and she turned back to him with narrowed eyes.

“I was scared, you mouse-brain! We can’t afford to lose anyone.” Squirrelpaw’s tone calmed down marginally, but there was still something twisted in her eyes. “You have to lead Windclan to a new home, remember?”

Crowpaw kept him muzzle shut, but he nodded slowly. He sensed now why Squirrelpaw was really angry with his actions earlier, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d gone through the same thing after all. When she was under that water, he’d never felt so scared of losing anyone. It would be cruel of him to put her through the same thing.

Sighing, he dipped his head in apology. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“I know.” Squirrelpaw muttered, her anger gone. “But that’s just because you’re a mole-head.” Hesitantly, she rubbed against his side, exhaling as she soaked in his soft fur.

Crowpaw didn’t object to her tenderness. Clearly, he had worried her. “Won’t happen again.” He mewed.

“It better not.” Squirrelpaw said sternly, swiping his nose again with her tail. Crowpaw sneezed; how could anything be so fuzzy? “It wasn’t just me you worried…Feathertail was scared too.” She examined him as he sighed again, guilt becoming clearer in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Crowpaw offered, looking up sanguinely at the apprentice. When her eyes softened, he craned his head back up. “But maybe you know how it was for us when you jumped into the river.” He leered.

Squirrelpaw let out a mrrow of laughter, “Shut up, at least I didn’t start crying.” He knew she didn’t mean it, so he laughed along. But even as they walked back to the others, he didn’t know why she’d mentioned Feathertail out of nowhere. He didn’t know that Squirrelpaw had made herself a promise to support her friends as much as she could.

And he didn’t know how much it stung her to do that.

...

Special thanks to @lonely-ghost-606 and @nyanan-1233 for their editing and advice at the beginning of this chapter. Love you guys! Enjoy!

#crowpaw #crowfeather #squirrelflight #squirrelpaw #crowsquirrel #squirrelcrow #brambleclaw #Feathertail #Warriors #Warrior Cats #warrior au #warriors au #fanfiction #fanfic #WindClan #Thunderclan

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tamakiamajikistentacles · 4 years ago

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Disappearance 8: The End {Katsuki Bakugo}

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated! Thank you to everyone who has been on this little journey with me! I hope this fic has been enjoyed even half as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Disappearance Masterlist

As his parents they were permitted to take the boy home to the apartment with them, and the boy liked Miki right away. When she wound herself around his shins and stood on her back legs to butt her head against his hand, he was smitten. The quiet giggles as he pet her and played with her and her toys were like music to both Katsuki and Chiasa.

Miki was happy to see Chiasa, licking her hand affectionately after receiving chin scratches in greeting. Chiasa could only marvel at how much she had grown since she last saw her as a tiny kitten pouncing on every dust particle in the apartment. It was a sweet reunion and one Katsuki had always hoped he would be fortunate enough to witness.

That seemed to be a new change in his life, being able to reclaim the peace he once had before Chiasa had disappeared, and now he was fortunate enough to have that with both her and their son.

Watching the reintroduction of mother and son at the hospital was surreal. Chiasa had marveled at the small boy she had once thought to be a hallucination standing in front of her in the flesh. It was obvious when the boy recognized her and spoke with caution that she was hurt just imagining what her voice had said to him without her consent. But she spoke warmly to him and promised that she was real and not the mother he thought he knew before.

The boy would experience the same thing soon when he found out who his real father was too.

Just thinking about the paperwork with the paternity test results tucked away in his bag was enough to have his spine tingling. They hadn’t sat the boy down to tell him that Katsuki was his father quite yet, afraid that too much change and information in one day wouldn’t be good for him as he integrated into the real world. The child psychologist at the hospital had been more than supportive of the decision and offered his services going forward, something they readily accepted.

Another thing they had to deal with was setting up appointments to find out more about the skin condition causing the rashes and itchiness for him. The doctors had attempted a few preliminary tests that came back inconclusive and recommended a dermatologist for further testing and treatment. It seemed unlikely the generic skin cream they sent them home with would do much in the meantime but it was worth a shot.

He pondered all of this as he watched the pot with the beginnings of their miso soup was considering boiling. Down the short hall he could hear murmurs from the bathroom where the boy was finally able to get clean, to take what Katsuki knew was the first bath of his life with his mother. He left the kitchen knowing a watched pot never boils anyway and a glimpse of his son with his mother was much more important.

Quietly walking down the hallway, fingertips dragging against the wall lightly, the voices of his family became more clear.

“We stay here?”

Chiasa hummed an affirmative. “Yeah, this is where Katsuki lives and where I lived a long time ago.”

“Before Toga looked like you?”

A chill went up his spine.

“Yes, honey, before she would look like me,” she replied after a long pause. “I’m sad that she did that because it meant you got to meet me when it was really her and we never actually met at all. I’m sorry about that, but you can know that from now on when you see my face, it’s really me.”

“Really my mom?” he asked.

“I’m really your mom, yes. I’m going to take care of you for the rest of my life to make up for all the time we were apart okay?”

He couldn’t keep himself hidden after that, turning the corner to lean against the doorframe of the bathroom.

“I’m gonna help her too, that good with you?” he asked, both of the brunettes turning to look up at him.

The boy gave a little grin and nodded, a small murmur of, “Yes,” making sure both he and Chiasa smiled too.

“Good, ‘cause I ain’t going anywhere.”

“You should be going to the kitchen to make dinner,” Chiasa teased.

He waved a hand dismissively but started to turn back to the kitchen nonetheless. “Yeah, yeah, water’s probably boiling now anyway.”

It was easy like that, falling back into their old ways. Even with the addition of the boy they had their same rapport and he knew that as a family it could only get better.

Even though he knew it, it felt like it was cemented as soon as the quiet giggles of mother and son entered the kitchen while he plated their meal. Looking over at the two brunettes he couldn’t believe how naturally they fit into this picture of his life.

Now that the boy had been cleaned up his dark hair wasn’t matted and he could see the small spikey tufts sticking out every which way. It looked more like his mother’s slightly longer hair but those were without a doubt definitely from his side of the gene pool. It was overwhelming to realize but even moreso to know that he already loved it and couldn’t imagine a time where he wouldn’t.

His entire being was screaming that it was outrageous for him to feel this way so quickly when he barely knew the boy but it was his son! His son with Chiasa! It was everything he had ever wished for from the time he realized she was the one for him to the present moment.

Katsuki was content to have this first meal as a family and to watch the two of them scamper off to the couch as he cleaned up after them. He was happy to hear the boy speak about the brightly colored cat cartoon they were watching even if they were small remarks. He could absolutely get used this this dynamic.

His thoughts were racing trying to think of everything they would need for the boy as he was brought fully into the fold of their lives. Surely there would also be medical appointments other than to treat the skin condition in addition to the therapy both he and his mother would be attending.

“We’ll have to make the office his bedroom,” he mused aloud as Chiasa laid against him on the couch. The boy sat cross-legged at their feet, entranced with an older cartoon he vaguely recognized.

She hummed. “Should we let him have the bed until then? Assuming you still have the old futon.”

“Yeah, I have it. Kid deserves a good night’s sleep on a nice mattress. You do too, so I’ll take the futon and you two get the bed.”

“No, I wanna stay with you,” she said. “We’ll sleep on the futon in there with him though, just in case.”

“Look at you going into Mom Mode already.”

She playfully elbowed him in the side. “As if you haven’t won Dad of the Year in a day.”

He scoffed but pulled her closer to him. The natural protectiveness over his family blanketed over his paranoia to keep them in his sights as often as he could, even in the apartment.

Even with the League members behind bars, Dabi and Compress for years and now Spinner, Toga, and Shigaraki following, he did feel the fear of losing them again. Deku’s refusal to end Shigaraki irked him knowing what he was capable of but he had said he would leave him to Deku and he had. He couldn’t burn that bridge, flammable as it surely would be.

He shook his head slightly to clear the thoughts from his mind. He had his family here with him now and he would do anything to keep them safe.

Chiasa could remember the victory it was for Dabi to be taken into custody and locked away in Tartarus. Almost the entirety of Class A reunited in celebration of his capture and many a toast was raised that night. But several days later the celebratory mood was dashed as a consultant was brought in to assist in the identification of the uncooperative villain.

The man was called the Biographer, his quirk the same as the moniker. If he made to skin to skin contact with another person he could recite factual information about them such as name, birthdate, parents’ names, quirk, and so much more. It was chilling when he pressed a hand to the unmarred skin of Dabi’s hand and began to speak.

“Touya Todoroki, born January 18th at 9:55pm in the Chūbu region of Honshu, Japan, currently 33 years, 330 days old. Firstborn son of Enji and Rei Todoroki, elder sibling of Fuyumi, Natsu, and Shoto Todoroki. Quirk: Cremation.”

Of course it hit Shoto the hardest as expected but the class was close, a bond having been formed from the horrors of heroics at such a young age that they shared his pain. Even Katsuki had been sympathetic despite the hell that the villain had personally put him through.

The fear of learning something devastating was why when the Biographer stepped into his spacious office he tensed. Paternity tests could be wrong, couldn’t they? What if Chiasa just didn’t remember Shigaraki entering the room and the memories were locked away as a coping mechanism for the trauma? He was terrified that this meeting would create more obstacles for her, potentially even for the little boy—Todoroki himself had been an example of a mother gone mad from the sins of the father.

Kirishima elbowed him in the side, breaking up his thoughts and directing his attention to their guest. He was grateful that he and Kaminari had agreed to come, hoping it put Chiasa at ease just as much as him. She stood by his side, the little boy standing close behind her leg and gripping her hand tightly.

“Hello,” the Biographer greeted kindly. “I understand that there are a few questions about a child that need to be answered?”

Katsuki found his voice as Chiasa’s hand laced with his between them. “The only certainty we have are his parents,”—he hoped he wasn’t wrong in saying so—"everything else we need to know. We want the same basic information as we did with the villain Dabi, like we discussed.”

The Biographer nodded, turning to Chiasa. “And you’re his mother, ma’am?”

“Yes,” she replied, dropping his hand and crouching down to the boy’s level when he shrank under the unknown man’s gaze.

“Can he place his palm in mine for just a few moments?” he asked politely with a small smile. “It’s absolutely painless and he’s free to move his hand at any time.”

“Is that okay, honey?” she asked the wide-eyed child. “You just set your hand in his and we can learn more about you?” When he still looked unsure she added, “I’ll hold your other hand, and we have three strong heroes here to keep us safe.”

The boy nodded, eyes flicking up over her shoulder to meet Katsuki’s. “You stay close?”

“Don’t worry,” he said, walking around her to kneel on his other side. He placed a hand on his back. “I’m right here.”

That seemed to satisfy him enough to look at the Biographer who also crouched down. He extended his upturned palm out to him, patiently waiting until the boy placed his trembling hand atop it.

The Biographer smiled at him reassuringly, glancing at the adults on either side of him and hoping to provide the same comfort. Then he began to speak.

"Born on February 11th at 7:19pm in Nagoya, Japan, currently 3 years, 237 days old. Firstborn child of Katsuki Bakugo and Chiasa Minamino. Quirk currently unknown."

A sob broke past Chiasa’s lips, her free hand coming up to cover her mouth. Startled by the outburst the little boy took his hand away to turn to his mother only to be swept up in a tight hug. He wrapped his small arms around her neck as his bottom lip started to wobble.

Katsuki felt like he could cry too as the weight and fear of uncertainty lifted from his shoulders, and even as he smiled up at his friends he felt the telltale sting in his eyes.

“Come here,” Chiasa said, reaching out to bring him into the embrace. He went willingly and wrapped his arms around them both, his eyes falling closed in happiness as he held his family.

He pressed a kiss to Chiasa’s temple and then to the top of his son’s head, the soft brown tufts tickling his cheek.

Distantly he heard the Biographer excuse himself and Kaminari offer to walk him out. Kirishima followed and glanced back at the little family with a smile. They deserved this. All three of them.

Still sitting on his office floor Chiasa had pulled their son—their son!—into her lap and held him close, the little boy still confused from her crying but happy to be with his mother nonetheless. Katsuki sat close to them, one arm wrapped around her shoulders and a grin still on his face. There were still a lot of things to work out, but this moment deserved to linger.

After a few silent minutes, Chiasa glanced up at Katsuki and smiled softly. She’d known since he told her about the small child while she was in the hospital but to hear it confirmed again was a melody she hoped would stay in her mind forever. But even though she knew he was the little boy’s father the child himself didn’t, and that needed to change.

It felt like there was so much she could say but no words that seemed right. She supposed that didn’t matter though, as long as this little boy knew his parents and knew they loved him.

“Honey,” she murmured, pulling back slightly to look in the boy’s eyes, “did you hear what that man said? Do you know what it means?”

That little pout returned to his face as he considered what she meant. “It was sad. It made you cry.”

“Those were happy tears,” she chuckled. “It wasn’t sad at all. It was really, really good. You know how Katsuki saved us?”

Matching eyes met his as he looked up at him, nodding. “Saved me. Saved you.”

“That’s right, he did. He saved us from Shigaraki and brought us home.”

“Saved us… from dad?”

She bit her lip, glancing at Katsuki briefly to see his jaw set at the false title. “Shigaraki isn’t your dad, honey.”

“No dad?” he asked.

Chiasa shook her head. “You have a dad. You’re the luckiest little boy because your dad is a hero who saves people.”

The boy turned to Katsuki. “Like you?”

“Sort of,” he said with a laugh. “What if I told you it was me? That I’m your dad?”

His eyes widened with what Katsuki hoped was excitement, and he leaned over to place his hand on his knee. He looked back and forth between both him and Chiasa several times, gaze on their eyes and hair respectively, before looking down at his hands where his right was on Katsuki and his left on his mother.

“You’re dad,” he finally said, patting his knee. Then he turned to Chiasa, tapping his fingers on her arm. “You’re mom.”

“That’s right, honey,” Chiasa whispered, one hand combing through his fluffy hair. “And mom and dad aren’t going anywhere, we all get to go home and be a family.”

“Family,” he repeated. “My family.”

He hugged her tightly and she pressed a kiss to his forehead, then he crawled over into Katsuki’s lap, throwing his arms around his neck and hiding his face in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around him too, every nerve in his body alight knowing that this was his son. He was hugging his son.

“You’re dad,” he heard whispered against him. “My dad.”

“Yeah, your dad,” he said softly. “’M your dad and even… even though we just met, I love you. Me and your mom both do.”

He sighed happily into his shoulder and pressed himself closer. They stayed like that for a long moment, Chiasa’s lashes lined with tears beside them.

Katsuki wanted to stay in that moment forever, but he knew there were still a lot of things to discuss with her. So he pulled back slightly and asked, “Hey little man, you know what you should do?”

Owlish eyes blinked up at him from where his chin rested on his chest.

“You should tell Red Riot and Chargebolt about your family. I don’t think they know yet, and they’ll be real excited,” he said with a nod to the door. It was still open and they could clearly see the two heroes a few meters down the hall.

The boy looked back over his shoulder, considering, before turning back to look between his parents.

“We’ll be right here,” Chiasa promised. “They’re friends, honey.”

With a little smile, the child climbed out of Katsuki’s lap and trotted up to where they stood, greeted excitedly by both of them.

Chiasa took his hand in hers and laid her head on his shoulder. “This is amazing.”

He squeezed her hand. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“It feels like the sun is finally rising after a long night. Like daybreak is chasing away the darkness.”

Katsuki kissed her cheek, then tilted her chin up towards him with his free hand to kiss her properly. She was right—this was dawn rising after four years and four months of night. Dawn was finding her and their son and being a family after the darkness of the League had shrouded them for so long. It was fresh and new, filled with endless possibility.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “You and our son.”

“I love you too. And so does he.”

He smiled, looking out to where the small boy was speaking to Kirishima and Kaminari who were crouched down to his level and smiling.

“He needs a proper name,” she murmured, her head resting on his shoulder once again.

He hummed. “I think you’re right about the sunrise, so what about Asahi?”

“Daybreak rising,” she said with a smile. “Yeah, that’s our boy, Katsuki. Asahi Bakugo.”

A/N: Please be sure to reblog, comment, review, and like if you enjoy! Feedback is what keeps me motivated!

Disappearance Masterlist

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mocha-sim · 5 years ago

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i feel like writing out more headcanons so here goes

(long post warning)

Megami

She’s struggling to find something she’s not naturally good at just to feel the sense of learning and improving

She enjoys the respect and admiration of other students but wishes they wouldn’t fear her so much

Aoi has been her best friend since they were little and is very protective of her

Initially she isn’t attracted to Taro and just wants to protect him from Ayano, but starts to fall for him both over shared interests and over the fact that he’s one of the only people to see her as a person instead of some higher being

That one friend who’s always ready for the camera, even when she’s not

She has an interest in engineering and likes to study it in what little free time she gets

After she becomes CEO she makes an attempt to repair her relationship with her brother by offering him a position in the company. He refuses, runs off with his share of the inheritance money and then sends multiple assassins after her

Taro

He reads all kinds of books but his favourite genre is psychological horror

He also likes cheesy romance novels. Hanako and Taeko like to tease him about it

Taeko is his twin sister who didn’t make it into Akademi and attends a different school. He and Hanako are much closer and though she’s never spoken up about it, she always feels left out

He has suspicions that someone is stalking him but doesn’t have any evidence and doesn’t want to sound crazy/paranoid

By the time week 10 rolls around he’s 100% sure that he’s being stalked and sits awake in his bed at night, watching the window, chugging caffeine to stay awake with a baseball bat by his side

If the weather is bad he’ll go and read in the library. He’s good friends with Kuu

Budo is like a brother to him and is usually the first person he talks to about his problems. (Hanako is very important to him but she always overreacts)

Shiromi

Her family is the most important thing to her and insulting them is one of the few things that can genuinely piss her off

She had an occult phase and got super into doing tarot cards/palm readings. She’s still interested in it but not enough to consider joining the occult club

Being Kaga’s half-sister means that she spends a lot of time around the science club members. She hangs out with Homu and Meka on weekends

The three of them grow the closest in their third year after the other science club and student council members have graduated

Her whole mentality is “life’s too short”, which is why she acts the way she does and is always looking for something new or interesting. She got it from her parents

She loves candy and is always on the hunt for a type she hasn’t tried before

She’s good with kids, partially because she babysits for families in her area a lot

Very very social and extroverted, but she has a hard time reading social cues sometimes and her lack of expression is off-putting to a lot of people

One of the shortest students in school, but she doesn’t let it get to her

Aoi

She places a lot of her self-worth on her physical ability, which is why someone beating her in a fight would leave scars not only physically but emotionally as well

She sees people who are aggressive or willing to do amoral things as a necessity to stopping troublemakers and criminals

She’s into heavy metal

Last year she spent pretty much all her time around Megami or by herself. She almost joined the sports club but couldn’t stand any of the other club members

She has trouble making friends and feels sort of lost and alone after Megami goes away for nine weeks

Shiromi is the only council member who made an effort to talk to her and one of the few students who was never afraid of her

One day Budo just came up and started talking to her. Now they’re friends. When anyone asks how they became friends Aoi replies with “he just kinda never went away”

Secretly afraid of heights but would never admit it

She can’t flirt at all but Megami is always trying to act as her wingman when she shows interest in a girl

Akane

She squints because she can’t stand the cheap fluorescent lights and who can blame her

Still has stuffed animals and isn’t ashamed of it

i’m just going to say it: i hate the idea of her secretly being an “eeevil” edgelord character but i do want her to have more depth than just “the cute nice one”

She’s a genuinely good person who struggles with bad/violent thoughts but pushes back against them. She sometimes worries that these thoughts make her irredeemably evil and feels guilty for them

Kuroko and Shiromi are both protective of her and she thinks it’s the sweetest. Kuroko has noodle arms and Shiromi weighs maybe 90 pounds soaking wet, but it’s the thought that counts

She’s afraid of Aoi and tries to avoid her

She likes to make jewelry and made friendship bracelets for the other council members. Shiromi wears hers openly and proudly, and Kuroko wears hers under her sleeve

She won’t outright say that she has a favourite among her admirers, but it’s Daku simply because he doesn’t get into fights over her like the others

Kuroko

She’s extremely focused on living up to her rich and successful parents

Her family puts a lot of pressure on her to be constantly working or studying, which left her with little to no social life before Akane and Shiromi came into the picture

She thinks that the only reason Aoi made it onto the council is because of her close relationship with Megami

Akane got her into a band she likes and now Kuroko listens to their music when studying

She likes reptiles and has a pet snake

Her sleep schedule is fucked beyond repair

She has trouble outwardly expressing emotions because of her upbringing and sees it as a sign of weakness

After finding out that Shiromi’s parents give her so much independence, she took it upon herself to watch over Shiromi and keep her out of trouble. She sees Shiromi’s parents as failures who can’t care for their child properly

Akane is the only other member of the council she really respects as a fellow adult. She’s also the only one Kuroko will confide in

Info

Her real name is Ayame Yoshida

Outwardly she thinks of her father (the journalist) as a loser who can’t support his daughter or himself, and doesn’t deserve a thing from her

Inwardly she still loves him and leaves him a share of her money for food and to pay the bills, but since she feels she can’t rely on him she’s built up walls and doesn’t really communicate with him

She used to be friends/partners in crime with Shiromi in middle school, until Info “disappeared” sometime during her last year

When she found out Shiromi was attending Akademi she offered money if she would lend her skills to Info’s work, but Shiromi refused

She has some anger issues

Also sort of a god complex

She secretly likes to play video games on the computers when she’s not doing her work

Outside of mission mode she still operates an assassination business which extends far outside of Akademi and even outside of Buraza. Ayano just isn’t one of her assassins

Kaga

He does want to take over Saikou Corp, but he also has genuine feelings for Megami and wants to impress her

He just doesn’t understand exactly how to go about pursuing her and messes it up a lot

Yaku and Horo are good friends of his, Homu is ok with him, and Meka straight-up hates him

His mother re-married after divorcing his father and had a daughter with her new husband. He sometimes feels like he’s not really part of the family and that his parents love his half-sister more

He used to have pet rats. Now he has pet mutant rats that his parents made him promise to never ever show to the public

Sometimes he takes apart others’ stuff without asking them first. He once dismantled Akane’s bike while she was over for a sleepover with Shiromi. Akane cried and Kuroko yelled at him

He hates cats because of a past experiment involving a cat gone wrong. It looked something like the Cats movie

Yaku and Horo respect his dedication to science but really want to get him outside more

The Aishi Twins

Ayano joined the student council and Yanagi (Yan-kun) joined the art club

The two of them haven’t exactly gotten along since they were kids, but they tolerate each other

Ayano can’t stand Megami or Aoi and treats both of them with a sort of cold faux-politeness. Megami does the same to her. Aoi will snap at her any chance she gets

Yanagi, being the second child born, doesn’t suffer from the Aishi curse but being brought up in a house with Ayano and Ryoba still fucks him up. He doesn’t really see any value in the lives or well-being of others

Ayano kills, kidnaps, and tortures to meet her goals. Yanagi does it for the thrill

While Ayano is interested in Taro, Yanagi doesn’t have a specific person as his goal and does whatever he feels like at the time

Neither one of them ever meets Taeko face-to-face, but if they did Ayano would take an interest in her as well since she’s Taro’s twin

Outside of using the art club as a front for his “hobbies”, Yanagi is genuinely a pretty good painter. He has a similar vision to Borupen and is the only one he really gets along with

#yandere simulator #yansim #megami saikou #taro yamada #shiromi torayoshi #aoi ryugoku #akane toriyasu #kuroko kamenaga #info chan #info-chan #kaga kusha #ayano aishi #yandere kun #yanagi aishi

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charliejrogers · 4 years ago

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Soul (2020) - Review & Analysis

See? 2020 wasn’t so bad. We got TWO Taylor Swift albums AND two Pixar movies! I joke. 2020 still sucked. Still, it is pretty notable to be getting two Pixar films in the same year. Last time that happened was in 2015 when we got Inside Out (what I thought was a masterpiece) and The Good Dinosaur (and I will die on the hill that more than a visual stunner it was a good movie too!) This year we’ve already had what I consider the functional equivalent of The Good Dinosaur in Onward, a very good, but ultimately light adventure tale of brotherhood. That means my expectations for this film Soul, from Inside Out’s director Pete Docter (also the director of Monsters Inc. and Up) were unfairly high. This was to be the year’s Pixar masterpiece.

It certainly tries to be. It’ a heavier film than Onward, deciding to tackle more existential questions like... “is there a point to life?” and “how do we avoid living a meaningless life?” You know… the stuff you usually see in kids’ movies. And while I am a big proponent of Pixar and recognize it is unfair to call their movies “kids’ movies,” the magic of their films usually derives from their ability to appeal to adults and kids alike. Though I love Inside Out dearly, I know it wasn’t a huge hit with kids, so it will never remembered as fondly as say Wall-E, Finding Nemo, or the seminal Toy Story . I say this because… I’m not even sure who this film is meant for? I really cannot imagine a child enjoying this film, but I’m also not a child so I won’t hold that against the film.

As an adult, however, I only moderately enjoyed the film. What it definitely has going for it is the beauty of the animation. I think The Good Dinosaur was probably still prettier, but that’s only because nature is prettier than city streets. This movie is drop dead gorgeous with environments sometimes indistinguishable from photographs.

Furthermore, the world of this movie is really, really interesting and creative in a way only Pixar could make. Well… sort of. A lot of the film is just our world, New York City to be precise. The movie tells the story of struggling, middle-aged jazz pianist Joe Gardner (Jamie Foxx) whose day job as a junior high band teacher pays the bills but doesn’t feed his soul. He’s only there at the behest of his mother (Phylicia Rashad). If not for her, Joe would be out there every day auditioning for gigs, trying to make it big and (likely) starving from want of work (though certainly not for want of talent). She’s more elated when Joe gets news he’s being made a full-time faculty member than when he gets a chance at a once-in-a-lifetime gig

But as fate would have it, that gig was what he’d been waiting for his whole life, his chance at the big time, the chance to play alongside a modern day legend, jazz sax player Dorothea Williams (Angela Bassett). He’s so excited when he gets the gig he can’t keep his eyes on traffic and inadvertently keeps getting himself into danger. Eventually, in his distraction, he actually falls down an open manhole. And he dies.

Yes. You read that correctly. Joe dies like 10 minutes into the movie. It’s really rather jarring tonally, and I feel like his death isn’t made dramatic at all. Something more impactful would make his inevitable resurrection all the more special. This is a studio that made me cry three times in 10 minutes when I first watched Up… they could have done something more here. Instead, the death just happens and we clip along to the next scene. This slightly rushed pacing continues throughout the film and is ultimately my biggest complaint with the movie. For something that tackles very big and heavy themes, it never really gives them time to breathe.

Anyway, the film then starts part 2 of 4. With Joe dead, we now see his soul alone in a vast black nothingness, standing on a bridge towards a bright light (what is referred to as the great beyond). Joe isn’t ready to die – he was just about to have his big break! So he manages to escape from the bridge to the Great Beyond into the world of the Great Before. It’s here that Pixar’s creativity gets to shine the most. The Great Before is the land in which personalities are born. Big Picasso-esque extradimensional figures (all inexplicably named Jerry and all with New Zealand accents) serve as guardians of the little, uniformly blue souls as they go through the “You Seminar” where they engage in various activities in order to become who they will eventually become. The Jerries usher the souls into various pavilions (including selflessness and insecurity as well as self-absorption!) in order to create all of our unique personalities. Apparently, the film sides hard on the nature side of the nature vs. nurture debate.

But the most important part of the seminar is pairing these newly developing souls with a recently deceased soul as a mentor. Together the two are supposed to work together until they find the developing soul’s “spark.” Once a soul gets their spark, they are ready to head to Earth and start life. Some people get their spark, i.e. their inspiration to live, from hearing about their mentor’s great life achievements in “the Hall of You” (mentors runs the gamut from Archimedes to Mother Teresa). Other souls get their spark from time spent in “the Hall of Everything,” where souls can try out various Earth hobbies and find what they will eventually love most in life (whether that’s painting, acting, or in Joe’s case jazz piano).

It’s a clever conceit, and I very much enjoyed my time spent in the colorful world of the Great Before. The movie gains its primary plot here when Joe (who isn’t supposed to be a mentor and should just be on his way to the Great Beyond) gets confused with a recently-deceased, world-renowned child psychologist and accordingly is assigned to be the mentor for a particularly difficult-to-inspire soul, referred to only by the number 22 (Tina Fey). Mentors have tried and failed to give 22 their spark for thousands of year. Ultimately, 22 just doesn’t get the hoopla about Earth and rather just enjoys the routine of their “non-life” in the Great Before. However, they and Joe make a deal. Since whenever a soul gets their spark, they get an Earth pass, if 22 gets their spark, they agree to give their pass to Joe, allowing him to return to his life and allowing themself to stay in the Great Before forever.

That plan doesn’t work. Instead the pair find some “shamans” in a desert within the Great Before who try to perform a resurrection ritual for Joe. This was probably the most creative aspect of this film’s plot. Shamans, mystics, or just serious meditators on Earth can actually have their souls transcend into the spiritual realm, allowing them to interacts with the other spirits who are permanently in the spiritual realm, like Joe and 22. I make special notice to include “serious meditators” because the main mystic/shaman is Moonwind (Graham Norton) who finds zen and therefore access to the spiritual realm by being a sign twirler on a street corner in NYC. But what I love about this aspect of the movie is its explanation that not just serious meditators can transcend to this realm, but actually any human can. Any time anyone gets “in the zone,” like when they get lost in playing music or basketball (or in my case doing physics problems), their soul can transcend up to the spiritual realm. The shamans are only in that they are aware of and can interact with that new reality; the rest of us are not.

However, in a fun, if a little too on-the-nose aside, the main job of the shamans is to return lost souls to Earth. Lost souls aren’t dead, they just belong to people who have become so addicted to something (e.g. greed) that they become soulless while living. The lone example the movie gives is of a hedge fund manager whose soul they manage to return and who subsequently quits his job. I’m sure there are nice hedge fund managers out there… so this joke fell flat for me even if I found the concept intriguing.

So the shamans perform their resurrection ritual. It goes predictably poorly as we’re only maybe 35 minutes into the movie and it can’t end yet. So we enter part 3 of the film where, because of the botched ritual, Joe’s soul inadvertently gets put into a cat and 22’s soul into Joe’s body. The rest of part 3 sees Joe and 22 try to put things back together. All the while, 22 by being in Joe’s body gets to finally experience real life on Earth (including their first experience of the human senses including tasting pizza). They find that they like Earth a whole heck of a lot, finding greatest pleasure in the smallest of things: a leaf falling from a tree, conversation among friends, a child’s hand being held. Plus, by being a naïve soul trapped in an old soul’s body, 22’s interactions with Joe’s family and friends (while Joe looks on in cat form) grants Joe an almost It’s A Wonderful Life type experience. 22 says and does things with Joe’s voice and body that he might never dream of saying, but the result of 22′s fresh take on life is the creation of new and genuine connections with those around him in ways he never had previously.

Of course, it’s not a kid’s movie without some sort of villain. While on Earth, Joe and 22 are being hunted by Terry, another extradimensional figure who serves as the Great Beyond’s accountant. Terry’s not so much a villain as he is a semi-comical plot device. While I appreciate that this movie eschews a true “villain,” I feel like Terry did little to add to this movie’s already very lacking sense of dramatic tension. I would have been perfectly content if they just added more horror and dread to Joe’s sense of loss of life.

Eventually, Terry manages to track down the pair and bring them back to the Great Before where, to everyone’s surprise, 22 somewhere along the way found her spark and now has a genuine Earth pass! She’s ready to live... and for once she’s excited to. That is, until Joe insists that 22 doesn’t deserve the Earth pass (i.e. to live) since they only gained a spark by being him and being in his body. In other words, 22 just got to copy Joe’s spark. So he takes 22′s Earth pass and rejoins life. He even realizes his dream and plays an absolutely outstanding show with Dorothea Williams!

And then feels empty. Earlier in the film, back in the Great Before, Joe got to see his “Hall of You,” that exhibit of his life, and he looking at his life so far decided that if he really stopped living that his life would be meaningless. He worked so hard for one thing for so long (to become a career pianist) and he never got it. Well, flash forward to the end of the movie, having now finally reached his dream, and Joe realizes it didn’t give him the payoff he thought it would. His life still feels empty. I appreciated the film’s quoting David Foster Wallace’s famous “This is water” speech even if it felt a bit hackneyed, and ultimately it serves as the movie’s message. Life isn’t about the big moments; it’s about what’s all around us. “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans” John Lennon once sange. Life is the stuff that made 22 so happy… the stuff that gave 22 her spark. She didn’t find a purpose or meaning when she was down on Earth that gave her a spark, she found a joy in falling leaves and conversations.

So with that realization, Joe returns to the Great Before, finds 22 and gives them their Earth pass back. Joe had in effect robbed 22 of the ability to live, and in the end undoes his harmful. But with only one Earth pass between the two of them, if 22 is to live, Joe must prepare for the Great Beyond. Now if you’re expecting to cry somewhere in this last part of the film… think again. As I said earlier, the film kinda clips along through these various story beats, not giving them time to be fully explored to the satisfaction of an adult thinker. And I don’t know about anyone else, but I didn’t feel much of a connection to either Joe or 22. so despite big moments of sacrifice and love, no tears came to my eyes. It’s not that either is unlikeable, but neither is particularly charming.

Some of it, I think, lies with some less than stellar voice acting on the part of Jamie Foxx. I don’t know. Some of his parts just felt phoned in? Tina Fey is adequate as 22, but not a stand-out. And I’m willing to concede too that the movie, the first in Pixar’s canon to focus on a Black character, may not have been made with me a white guy in his 20s as the target audience. Still, I’m not sure that race is particularly relevant to my dissatisfaction. I more think the film’s philosophy is a little jumbled, or maybe I just disagree with it. It seems to tells us that there’s no meaning to life and that the important part of life is enjoying the small things… but that’s a little naïve to say the least. Yes, trees are beautiful and music sounds good, but the movie shies away from the fact that life sucks for so many people. Like so many people. I’m sure poor and beaten down people will not feel comforted if you tell them that living is worth it because falling leaves are pretty.

But at the same time, I don’t want the movie to have argued that every person is “meant” to do something. In fact I think that idea is bullshit, and I like that the film denies this degree of determinism. If you can’t tell, I’m more on the nurture side of nature vs. nurture. But still by creating this world where souls are fully formed individuals prior to incarnation and to deprive them of a purpose feels… well soulless. Though, potentially bleaker, it feels more honest to just say we’re born as a blank slate, in a world devoid of meaning than to say that we are born fully formed into a world devoid of meaning. I would argue the later (and what the film argues) to reflect a darker, crueller world. Especially after watching a show like The Good Place which managed to so creatively and adeptly develop an entire moral philosophy that was relatively easy to understand and was largely agreeable... this feels lacking.

So yeah… I just couldn’t connect philosophically with this world, the film tackles bigger themes than its kid-friendly world seems fully capable of tackling, and despite beautiful visuals, it lags in the sound department, making it hard to really relate to these characters. I know it will find an audience because it’s a superbly made film set in a creative world with a unique premise, but that audience just isn’t me.

**3/4 (Two and three fourths out of four)

#soul #soul (2020)#jamie foxx #tina fey #pixar #disney+#pete docter

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magioftheseas · 5 years ago

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Encroaching Shadows

Summary: In which Natsuhiko has to come to terms with the terror he's willingly associated himself with for his lady's sake. Or at least he tries.

Rating: T+

Warnings: Suicide and minor violence.

Notes: I think the broadcasting club is neat. I would like more material that fleshes out their character. There’s not a lot of fan-material that does so, and thus I wrote this fic to fill some of that void. Also I was just really interested in the idea of exploring Natsuhiko and his relationships (particularly with Tsukasa). He’s surprisingly valid for a simp.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

Commission? Donate?

The school bell resounded through the halls. Orange light filtered through the windows, and there, encased in the encroaching shadows, a pair of students laid entwined on the floor.

It’s strange, Natsuhiko thought. It’s so cold. Even though we’re close.

He wants to laugh, but it hurts too much to do so and he’s just tired. So, so tired. There’s dust particles fluttering about in the air—and there’s blood streaking the floor and his uniform. The hand he has in his grasp has long gone limp, but it’s still pliable. His heart is still hammering stubbornly, and he does crack a smile.

Looks like I’m slow to die, too.

For now, he supposes he can enjoy the moment. She’s always been so cold, tense, and distant, but now she’s close and relaxed. She looks like she’s sleeping. She’s beautiful.

Natsuhiko uses his free hand to brush back the strands of spring green, still vibrant against her pale cheeks. She doesn’t so much as stir. But it does feel—strange. Like rubber, almost. She’s still cold. She’s still freezing. When he inhales, bitter iron mingles with only remnants of her natural perfume.

It’s cold. It still hurts. He doesn’t know if he can sleep like this. It’s taking what feels like forever.

I’m tired, but I don’t—I don’t...?

Oh. Wow. He’s shaking.

I-I don’t want to—

He wants to scream, but he’s frozen in place, held there by a beautiful dead girl.

“What’s thiiiiis?”

Natsuhiko blinks. The new voice isn’t what he expected. Innocent curiosity instead of a scream of horror. Something drifts closer—even though he can’t hear any footprints. But when his head shifts, he does see a round childish face, with wide eyes and two little fangs peaking from his open mouth.

A kid...?

The kid isn’t wearing the school’s uniform, but upon meeting his stare, he pulls down his hat and grins.

“It’s nice to meet you! I’m Tsukasa! You called me, huh?”

“Called...?” The words are sluggish. Of course, Natsuhiko is having difficulty speaking. It still hurts so bad that he has to gasp pretty greedily for air as he does. “N-No, no, you don’t understand.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the kid chirped, now with a terrifyingly vacant expression. “I meant her.” In the reflection in Natsuhiko’s wild and disbelieving stare, the kid’s lips curved upwards in what couldn’t possibly be described as a smile. “Sakura, right?”

In the end, it was Natsuhiko’s screaming that alerted someone else.

“There is the near shore, and the far shore,” Tsukasa sing-songs. “The only way to cross is either through cooperation or to die. I don’t really care for that. I just help those who’ve drowned in-between.”

He twirls around.

“It’s funny. How many wishes you make when you’re dying. When you’re dead. It’s also pretty sad, so I don’t miiiiind granting them. That said, I can’t do them for free! I require payment!”

She stares, expressionless and cold.

“You’ve already given up your life,” he reminded her cheerfully. “After that—what’s a little more?”

“You can grant any wish?” she asks, simple and unperturbed.

“Any, any! Even if it’s supposed to be impossible! I’m not like my brother, you know!” Tsukasa beams, leaning in close, with the glittering gaze of a predator. “Those who try to tell you anything’s impossible are liars. I don’t like liars.”

She’s still unmoved.

“Then, I...”

She only hesitates for the briefest of moments.

“I’ll give anything, Hanako-san.”

A lot of people have been giving Natsuhiko pitying stares, no matter how often he smiles or laughs them off. Even the teachers are going pretty painfully easy on him. It was pretty nice, considering how he was used to looks of contempt for the longest time before. At least, it was nice—until it started feeling too fake and fleeting to stand.

“If you need anyone, I’m here to listen,” a classmate says to him. He thinks it’s the class president? They’ve literally never held a conversation outside of Natsuhiko being scolded for taking things too lightly. And now, this person is saying, “Take care of yourself, okay, Hyuuga-kun?”

It feels like a joke, so he smiles. It’s not very funny, but he still laughs.

“It’s fine, it’s fine!”

He doesn’t want to be here, so he escapes. All the way back to the room where everything changed. Where the only person who treats him normally remains. She’s sipping tea and at true ease.

“My lady,” he greets. “I’m—”

“Supposed to be in class,” she cuts him off. “What are you doing here? Leave. Right this instance.”

It’s only here where his smile twitches.

“I’d rather be with you.”

“Sakura,” a kid cuts in, floating by with a wide, inquiring gaze. “Is that guy your boyfriend?”

“He’s not,” she replies curtly. “He is little more than a nuisance.”

So harsh! But he does laugh sincerely.

“Am I your boyfriend?”

Wait, no! Now, he can actually panic.

“No.” She doesn’t miss a beat. “That is not our relationship. I am your assistant and nothing more.”

“Oh, okay!” The kid still embraces her tightly, much to Natsuhiko’s despair. The brat even has an innocent smile on his face as he does so. “She’s my assistant and you’re an annoyance! So, hurry up and leave!”

“Sorry,” Natsuhiko said, shaking his head. “Uh, no can do. See, it’s so suffocating that I might actually die for real. Sorry, my lady. Do you mind me being selfish for a while?”

Sakura gives him a long hard look. Because she loves him, she’s visibly irritated. But because she’s too kind for her own good, she sighs and nods.

“Very well. Just do not expect me to pay you more mind than the air.”

She’s really great, and Natsuhiko’s all too happy to sit down in the corner and admire her, especially admire the way light rays catch on her heavenly visage. It’s just a shame that the brat is a blight in black, drifting behind like a shadow. The kid’s quick to ignore him, reaching out across the table and stuffing his face with the treats laid out.

He eats messily, licking his fingers like a greedy, greedy child. Sakura sets her tea aside, sighs, and hands him a handkerchief to wipe his face off with. He, of course, blows his nose in it.

“I’ve been thinking,” the kid says. “How about the story of the youkai?”

“We should space out the rumors,” Sakura replied. “If we are too aggressive too quickly, those who stop us will act fast.” A pause. “Patience, Hanako-san. Think about the long run. Think about how much you’d like to accomplish.”

The kid bites his hand on accident, but he doesn’t even bat an eye and just keeps on eating.

“Long run?” He swallows, and then he laps at the injury on his hand just as a cat would. “Are we going somewhere? I still haven’t figured out a way to leave the school, Sakura.”

“I meant metaphorically. That surely, you want better results that last, rather than an inconvenient burst that fizzles.” She holds out her hand. “Let me bandage you up.”

The kid stuck his entire hand into his mouth. Sakura twitched. Natsuhiko got up and retrieved a small kit they kept in the club room, one that only he really used.

“Kid,” he said. “How about you let my lady do all the planning for now? She used to be top of her class, you know. She’s very smart.” Walking up to them, he pulled the kid’s hand out of his mouth and began to wipe it off. “Just relax.”

The little asswipe spat in his face. Natsuhiko accidentally got it in his mouth, shuddered, and he began to turn quite pale. He most certainly ended up gagging into the trashcan.

“Don’t do that,” Sakura reprimanded. “If you are getting unruly, you should go for a walk to clear your mind instead.” Then, directed to the still slumped Natsuhiko, “You can keep an eye on him, can’t you?”

“E-Eh?” Weakly and dizzily, he lifted his head. “You’re not coming with?”

“I’d rather have time by myself to think, if that is to be allowed.” She looked toward the kid patiently. Natsuhiko didn’t remark on it. The way Sakura was clearly waiting for permission. The way the kid grinned.

“Sure, why not! I’m getting bored of this room anyway!”

Swallowing back his own bile, Natsuhiko forced an irritated smile before making his way over and pulling the kid by the arm.

“You’re not going to immediately run off and cause trouble, right?”

The kid beams up at him, too. And then he spits on his face again.

The thing is, as horrible as the brat is, Natsuhiko does find himself fretting when the kid wanders too far off for reasons beyond everyone else’s sake.

“Can you stay close?” he practically begs. “Do you need your hand held or what?”

The kid blinks wide eyes at him. The widest pair of eyes that Natsuhiko has ever seen. He sticks out the hand that’s been bandaged, and Natsuhiko is too taken aback to do anything but mutely take it.

What the hell? It’s almost like he actually is a kid.

It’s—weirdly nostalgic. There had been a time where Natsuhiko found a lost kid before. She had been bawling her eyes out and crying for her mother, and obviously, he couldn’t leave her alone. She gripped his hand tightly enough to bruise, but she had been precious all the same. It had been enough to make Natsuhiko wish he had a younger sibling of his own.

This wasn’t exactly like that, because this kid—Tsukasa, right—was a terror and probably a demon. But his hand was still small in Natsuhiko’s own, and Natsuhiko could almost pretend it hadn’t been used to tear smaller spirits into smaller pieces.

Maybe, he thought, squeezing that deceptively small hand. This kid, he—just needs guidance? Like an older sibling?

The kid was now staring in the same direction that Natsuhiko was, seemingly confused as if there was something that caught his attention. He’s squinting, too, as if there’s something beyond all that nothing.

“Tsukasa, right?” Natsuhiko finally spoke up, getting his attention.

“That’s me!” The kid beamed. “Did you somehow forget?”

It’s because I get confused. That’s not what the lady calls you. But, he knows he’s dumb so he doesn’t expect it to make sense even if it’s explained to him. “Uh. There anywhere in particular you want to go?”

Tsukasa hums thoughtfully.

“Theeeee—garden? Maybe?”

“Ooh, good choice,” Natsuhiko agrees amicably. “There are some cute girls in the gardening club after all.”

“I want to eat everything there.”

“Haha... I hear there’s a great view from one of the windows. Let’s go there instead.”

“Mmkay.”

Tsukasa half-dangles out of window, and Natsuhiko has to keep a secure grip on the back of his robe so that he doesn’t fall. He has no doubts that Tsukasa is completely indifferent towards the girls tending the flowers. Actually, he seems to be waving his arms at a bird perched below.

Natsuhiko, thinking of a cat, tugged him back so that the bird remained safely out of the demon brat’s reach.

He’s more than a handful, alright. Because of him, the lady suffers even more than she already had. But also because of him, she’s still here. So how should I feel towards him, exactly?

He doesn’t really want to feel gratitude or indebted, even if the kid had been well-meaning in his intervention. He’s definitely irritated, aggravated, and concerned about this kid the way he’d be worried about a ticking time bomb. Although because of the kid’s appearance being that of, well, a kid, he can’t deny there being a protective aspect as well.

“Oh.”

Case in point, Natushiko’s grip slipped enough that Tsukasa would’ve fallen out the window and that only earned a dulled response from the kid. Meanwhile, Natsuhiko yelped and managed to grab his ankles at the last minute and yanked him back in with, of course, an angry bird that was fluttering and squirming in the kid’s grasp.

“Let that go!” Natsuhiko snapped, slapping his wrists so that he’d release the poor thing and the bird wasted no time in flying away in several desperate wing flaps. “Also, be more careful! No more hanging out of windows, alright, kid?!”

“I don’t get the big deal,” the brat replied. “It’s not like I would’ve died.”

“That’s—!” Completely true. He’s a ghost. He wasn’t at any actual risk. But. I... “Not the problem! I would’ve had to run down so many stairs to make sure you didn’t cause real damage! Especially to the garden! It’s no good to make girls cry, y’know! Especially girls as cute as those!”

Tsukasa had already lost interest and was now gathering the feathers scattered across the floor. He observed the speckled ones with wide eyes, and Natsuhiko could only heave out a heavy sigh.

This brat... This piece of shit devil brat...

“You really are a kid, aren’t you?” He kneels down to gather feathers as well, chuckling as he did. “You’re especially bad-behaved, though.”

“Mm.” Tsukasa nods, so at least he’s aware of that. “So people say.”

So people say... Were you like this even as a human? How long have you been a kid, exactly? And—how many of those years were spent alone?

“Mm?” Tsukasa blinks at him owlishly and then he starts counting on his fingers. “Um, ten... Twenty... Thirty? What year is it?”

“Year?” Natsuhiko repeated dumbly. “Did I—ask that aloud?”

“I died... What year was it?” Tsukasa’s head tilts as he thinks it over. “Um. Ummm. It was—right. No. Um.” His face scrunches up. “Amane and I heard on the radio. Man just walked on the moon. Right! That was 1969!” He blinks several times, smile frozen. “Was that...the year I died?”

“1969?!” Natsuhiko choked. “K-Kid, that—that was like, fifty years ago!”

“Fifty! Yeah!” Tsukasa exclaimed delightedly, pointing at him with the feather before beaming. “Fifty years! It’s been fifty!”

“W-Well, it hasn’t been exactly fifty,” Natsuhiko mutters, flustered, to Tsukasa’s confusion. “But like, it has been a while. That was... Jeez, that was before my parents were born.”

“Yeah,” Tsukasa agrees, almost distantly. “Phones can be carried around now. Super weird.”

Fifty and even forty years are a pretty long time. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it was beyond his comprehension. Standing up, he folded his arms.

“Alright, so I guess now’s as good a time as any. Listen, kid. We’re going to be associated for however long you need the lady for, so we might as well get along, yeah?” Of course, Tsukasa was shuffling through his feathers to see all the different designs he had. Attention span of a squirrel, this kid, but Natsuhiko pushed through, fueled by his determination. “That said, you clearly need someone to watch over you and make sure you don’t get into trouble. So, from now on, you can consider me your big brother, yeah?” He winked as Tsukasa looked up at him. “I promise I’ll be nice and spoil you from time to time.”

Tsukasa’s expression was completely unreadable. Natsuhiko, still smiling, offered his hand to help the other up. To his relief, the kid took his hand—and then to his immediate horror, the kid twisted his arm in a way that threatened to break bone. Before he could even get out a plea, he was slammed into the wall. He yelped, his heart pounding.

“K-Kid?! Hey?! C-Come on, if I said something wrong, you could’ve just yelled at me...!” He feels his jaw swelling from the impact and winces as Tsukasa presses his wrist harder into his back. His legs were shaking. “K-Kid... Kid, please... Please...”

“I,” Tsukasa inhales and huffs into his ear. To do so, he must have been standing on his tippy toes, and the realization that this runt could very well kill him and nobody would be able to do anything had Natsuhiko’s breath hitch in hysterics. Tsukasa just goes on, “I already have a big brother. You’re not to take his place.”

“O-Okay!” Natsuhiko cried, trembling. “Okay, okay! I won’t! P-Promise! I’m sorry!”

Tsukasa doesn’t respond. For a few heart-pounding seconds, Natsuhiko lets his eyes screw shut, tears seeping through and then—nothing. The kid lets him go. And when Natsuhiko tentatively looks back, hand instinctively going to his bruised jaw. No one was there. No one at all.

“...kid?”

“Oh gosh!” someone exclaims and Natsuhiko just sees it’s one of his classmates rushing up, face awash in alarm. “Hyuuga-kun, are you okay?! Did someone attack you?”

“I just...” Gaze dropping, all Natsuhiko observes is the scattered mess of feathers. “A, huh, bird flew in and I had a hell of a time getting it to leave... I guess. Haha.”

Seriously—what the hell was that even about?

“U-Um... My lady, we, um, we have a problem.”

In his shame, he can only return to the broadcasting club empty-handed. The lady perks up from her reading, expression impassive as Natsuhiko ducks his head and avoids her stare.

“I uh, I don’t...know where the kid is.”

“What happened to your face, Natsuhiko?”

Normally, he’d light up from her show of concern, but he just flinches instead, grimacing.

“Said something that made the kid angry. I...” He laughs it off. “Did you know he had a big brother?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Of course I did.”

That had him jolt with surprise.

“W-Wha, for real?!”

“The other Hanako-san,” she explained simply. “He mentions him all the time. You never noticed?”

“Mentions... Who?” The gears began to turn and after a while, Natsuhiko gasped, figuring it out. “Amane?!”

“That was his brother’s human name, yes.”

“No way! I thought that was an old crush!” Under the lady’s withering stare, he hurriedly added, “O-Or like, a sister. Because, uh, Amane’s a girl’s name...”

“It’s gender-neutral, Natsuhiko.”

“Yeah... Guess so.” He nods along. “Uh, wow. Okay. So... Wait. Other Hanako-san?”

“How badly did he hurt you?”

Natsuhiko held up his bandaged wrist with a chuckle. “Sprained it a bit but nothing too severe, thank god. But that kid’s seriously scary, my lady.”

“You were fortunate,” she said softly. “In his current state, he cannot cause much harm. He is still weak, for the time being.”

Geez, if that’s weak, I’m even more terrified.

“Do not worry about his absence,” she goes on. “Because of his state, he will return shortly. He cannot move around much and could be banished back here with something as small as a splash of hot tea.” Coincidentally, she sips the tea she has laying out. “I apologize, however. You got mixed up in this mess because of me.”

“And I don’t mind it if it’s for your sake!” He’d grab her hand but his wrist hurts too much to do that, so he just makes the gesture limply in the air. She stares at him with disdain, and it brings much more positive shivers down his spine.

Then, that lovely gaze dulls, and her frown deepens.

“So,” he says. “Uh. What’s this about another—Hanako-san?”

“That child grants the wishes of the dead,” she said. “But his brother grants the wishes of the living. Not everyone can summon him, however.”

“Huuuuh. I see.” Natsuhiko rubs his chin, and winces because he accidentally messes with his jaw. “Maybe I could try and see if he can keep the kid in check better? I mean, I could probably see him.”

Although what am I going to do if the older brother has an even worse temper?

“Do not do anything unnecessary,” the lady snapped at him. “Understand, Natsuhiko?”

Anger borne of concern is good, though.

“Got’cha~!”

He agreed without a second thought but a part of him still wondered. Now that he wasn’t afraid for his life, he could mull things over better.

Older brother who grants the wishes of the living... If he’s at all better behaved, why couldn’t we have ended up with him?

Well. He knows why. He’s stupid and dense, but he’s not completely blind to his situation and surroundings. He could only wish to be so ignorant, that way he wouldn’t notice the pitying and weary looks he gets for reasons beyond his personality. He hasn’t been asked any questions about that day him and the lady were discovered in the classroom, and that’s for the better. Because there’s nothing to say. No answer to give.

He had already agreed to sever ties by staying with her. The least he can do is commit even when the initial plan falls through due to one violent little runt with a brother complex.

Still.

“I’m back!”

Without a care, as if he never lost his temper, the kid drops in and clings to the lady much to Natsuhiko’s gritted dismay.

“You should not lose your temper so easily,” the lady reprimanded, albeit gently. “Natsuhiko is not worth throwing a tantrum over.”

“Ehhh? You really think so?” The kid turns those big eyes back at him, and all Natsuhiko can do is force a smile and wave with his bandaged hand. Pursing his lips, the kid looked contemplative. “Okay.” He buries his face into the lady’s hair. “Sakura, I’m tired.”

“You overdid it,” she said, and Natsuhiko watches as the kid slumps against her.

“I’m really, really tired, Sakura.”

“Because you overdid it.”

“Read me something!”

Natsuhiko twitched as the lady simply sighed.

“Natsuhiko, pull up a chair for him.”

He does so, lips pressed tightly together and he doesn’t say anything even though the kid clamors into the chair and doesn’t even sit in it properly. He just props his head against the back and lets his eyes fall shut as the lady reads her book aloud in a droning voice. The kid falls into a not-quite rest, but Natsuhiko knows better at this point. He’s stupid, but he can figure stuff out.

The evening bell to signal that the school day was over is resounding. Natsuhiko wonders if anyone’s worried about him. He shakes his head, deciding it doesn’t matter.

“So that white expanse up there is really made up of stars?” The lady crooned, and the kid answers with a content hum. “No matter how long he looked at it, he just couldn’t imagine space being the cold, empty place his teacher had said it was.”

The shadows begin to creep in, the sun setting, and it wouldn’t be long before the last living soul was lost in the whispers.

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #natsuhiko hyuuga #tsukasa yugi #sakura nanamine #Magi Fics

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anhed-nia · 4 years ago

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BLOGTOBER 10/27/2020: THE CURSE OF CATTOBER pt 3 - THE CORPSE GRINDERS

Ted V. Mikel's notorious sickie THE CORPSE GRINDERS is one of a few movies that has become symbolic of my whole journey with psychotronic cinema. Today, I would understand exactly what kind of movie this is, even if I had not seen this exact item: An exploitation movie in the truest sense, just as infamous for its grossout premise as it is for its extraordinary cheapness, delivering all of the moral turpitude and almost none of the over the top effects promised by its attention-grabbing key art--or its dumbfounding title. But when I was a kid, I seriously wondered about these films; worried about them, even.

I wasn't allowed to watch anything that smacked of bad taste, but I still managed to build up a vivid awareness that there were movies out there about forms of perversion and evil that I could never imagine, made by freaks of the highest order. I would hunch nervously over the horror rack at our local mom & pop video mart, earning me the nickname Igor from the amused heshers behind the register, while my parents went through the motions of renting me LABYRINTH for a eight zillionth time. I was allowed to buy exactly one copy of Fangoria (the December 1990 issue featuring LEATHERFACE) before my mother reneged on this gesture of tolerance, but I was allowed to read most anything I wanted--my intellectual hippie folks wouldn't dream of censuring the written word--and I spent many hours, nay years, poring over the Re/Search book of Incredibly Strange Films. This helped create a kind of cinema of the mind for me, in which I tried my best to realize what the movies discussed in the book could possibly be like in real life. The book's detailed descriptions of pictures like SPIDER BABY, THE WIZARD OF GORE, SHE-FREAK, THE UNDERTAKER AND HIS PALS, etc were stimulating in some ways, and only added to my confusion in others. Without seeing them up close, it was hard to make sense of their combination of laughable cheapness, unfunny comedy, and genuinely sickening crimes against human dignity. What these movies are like, is something you can only find out for yourself.

Having said all that, I'm still going to try to tell you what THE CORPSE GRINDERS is like. We open on the rainswept grounds of the Farewell Acres cemetery, where a jerky-addicted ogre called Caleb (Warren Ball) is extracting freshly interred bodies from the earth, as a gaggle of geese honk savagely from being a wire fence. Caleb's dotty wife Cleo (Ann Noble) argues with Caleb for not-the-last time about how his jerky habit is going to ruin his appetite for the dinner she slops out for her filthy baby doll instead, while Caleb bitches about not being paid by a Mr. Landau for his latest job. What's the job, you ask? Selling corpses to the Lotus Cat Food company, where Landau (Sanford Mitchell) has discovered that human flesh is the secret to his success, having kinda-accidentally fed a difficult shareholder into his cat food grinder. It's hard to say exactly how this has led to such a windfall for Landau, especially since he has to produce the illicit pet food one corpse at a time with his neurotic assistant Maltby (J. Byron Foster, my favorite guy in the movie). I guess I've just never dealt with a cat whose specific addiction is so obvious, so oppressive, even, that it forces me to buy the most expensive cat food on the market. This is what is happening to customers whose cats have fallen under the spell of Lotus, and they pay for it with their very lives because Lotus has given their pets a taste for long pig. Landau struggles to find more sources for his secret ingredient, including a mob hitman, giggly morticians who load the bodies up with "pork-flavored fluid (instead of) formaldehyde", and his own employees--"The world is full of ingredients!" he declares, hopefully. Meanwhile, Doctors Howard Glass (Sean Kenney) and Angie Robinson (Monika Kelly) decide to investigate the recent rash of cat attacks; it's hard to imagine how they're going to get to the bottom of anything, amid many makeout breaks and random changes of clothes, but somebody has to stop all these house cats from devouring the rest of Los Angeles, and it might as well be them.

So that's the plot, but THE CORPSE GRINDERS is still a lot weirder than what I've described. You could be forgiven for wondering whether the movie is supposed to take place in Andy Milligan's version of 19th century London, with Cleo's bizarre insistence on a cockney accent, and Caleb's grumbling about finances involving "pounds" (actually pounds of flesh) in their ramshackle dwelling on the edge of a cardboard-and-styrofoam cemetery. A further Dickensian touch is provided by Landau's one-legged deaf-mute assistant Tessie (Drucilla Hoy), who limps around glumly in a sailor dress and Little Orphan Annie fright wig. If she could talk, she would probably sound like the widow Babcock (Zena Foster), whose husband was the first to go into the grinder, and who speaks in a twittering falsetto that would sound more natural coming out of a sock puppet. All of these community theater touches contrast jarringly with the movie's exploitation nature, which revels in scenes of hardboiled scumbags shaking each other down, of women taking their clothes off for literally no reason at all, and in the suggestion that the gloopy pink paste extruding out of the cat food grinder was once a beautiful girl or a rotting cadaver. The grinder itself is a sight to behold, reminding me at once of something from SANTA CLAUS CONQUERS THE MARTIANS, and the Wish Squisher invention from the MST3K episode of SANTA CLAUS CONQUERS THE MARTIANS. The metallic gizmos whirring along its façade glint in the fabulous gelled lights over the production line, optimistically evoking the rich purples and greens of a Mario Bava picture; in a movie that's explicitly about money woes, in a subgenre that's specifically known for its cheapness, it's nice that director Mikels shelled out to add a little extra style to the grinding scenes.

And on that note, I would like to propose, without having much to say about it yet, that some exploitation films are allegories for exploitation filmmaking itself. I don't include all genre movies about money in this category: it's easy to identify many thrillers as being about more general economic conditions that affect us all, including a lot of noir entries. But then there are movies like THE CORPSE GRINDERS, or LITTLE SHOP OF HORRORS, or COLOR ME BLOOD RED (or its predecessor A BUCKET OF BLOOD), in which the main character tries to solve his financial woes by committing an utterly dehumanizing crime. In these three examples, there is the revelation that honest work doesn't pay, and that money is only gained through the individual's willingness to exploit sensational imagery and/or decadent sensations to tease, titillate, and even addict the customer. It's hard not to see Landau, Seymour, and Adam Sorg as avatars for Ted Mikels, Roger Corman, and Herschell Gordon Lewis, in their similar quests to prey on the craven appetites of the public, at a minimum cost for a maximum payout. If you have other movies you'd like to add to my list, please feel free to reach out.

All told, it's hard not to like THE CORPSE GRINDERS for its sheer audacity--first, in selling something so meager as a "real movie", and second, for making the movie be about THIS. Also, all of this is significantly enriched when you know a little something about Mikels, a polyamorous eccentric who lived in a castle, whose grounds--and guard geese!--were used for the scenes in Farewell Acres. I'm not even going to try to discuss his prolific exploitation career and personal exploits, because that would be better handled by a longform piece on him specifically. It seems like a few documentaries have attempted the subject, but I don't know whether they're any good. It would be nice if Frank Hennenlotter would give it a try, or someone similarly capable, if there even is such a person. In the meantime, I will contribute the sole piece of information that my own scant research has turned up in preparing for this Blogtober entry: That THE CORPSE GRINDERS was co-written by Arch Hall Sr, and Joe Cranston--father of the now-iconic Breaking Bad star Bryan Cranston. I don't know if I'd call that a reason to see the movie, but luckily there are plenty of other reasons to check out THE CORPSE GRINDERS this Halloween. If you don't, then you can never really know what the hell I'm talking about.

#blogtober #2020 #the corpse grinders #ted v mikels #horror #exploitation #cattober #arch hall sr #joe cranston #sean kenney #monika kelly #sanford mitchell #j byron foster #warren ball #ann noble

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edendaphne · 6 years ago

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“Discordant Sonata” Ch. 5

New chapter!

Read it here on Ao3

Read it here on Wattpad

CHAPTER 5: FERMATA

Glossary:

Clochette = little bell

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(Mood Music: Hallelujah - Brian Crain cover)

It was just another Monday morning in the life of Nathalie Sancoeur. While she wouldn’t necessarily categorize herself as a morning person, she did prefer to wake up extra early to quietly watch the sun rise, her beloved cat Clochette lounging lazily on her lap, as well as enjoy the luxury of being able to get ready for the day at a leisurely pace.

Her daily routine of scrolling through the trending news on her tablet while sluggishly sipping on black coffee was uneventful as usual… until she began going through the Adrien Agreste hashtag, as she always did.

Clochette did not appreciate being violently sprayed with coffee. Nathalie coughed and sputtered, wiping her dripping mouth and nose. She grabbed the nearest available towel (which, as she discovered later, turned out to be not a towel but a pricy dry-clean only sweater) to clean her face and tablet with. Hopping off and looking back with what was surely the cat version of a sneer, Clochette walked away from a very confused Nathalie, who continued to gawk and sputter at the blurry photos of her charge, hand-in-hand with the one and only Ladybug.

Inhaling sharply and leaping out of her chair, Nathalie snatched her phone, first to dial Nadja Chamack’s number, followed by the Agrestes’ lawyer, hoping they could help her minimize the potential damage of this situation.

“Gabriel cannot find out about this,” she muttered to no one in particular, clutching the countertop with a white-knuckle grip.

A couple of hours later, Adrien sat at the Agrestes’ titanic dining room table anxiously poking at his breakfast, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sleep-deprivation from a night full of bad dreams (chronic nightmares were an unfortunate side effect of using his miraculous against its intended use) only amplified the maddening suspense.

Last night he’d been terrified to check the news, fretting that the photos from his date with Ladybug would undoubtedly be leaked onto the internet. There was no way he’d be lucky enough to escape that. He did, however, recall that none of the phones pointed at them had had their flash turned on, and therefore, there was a tiny possibility that the photos hadn’t turned out clear enough to confirm that it really was Ladybug and Adrien in the photos, and not some attention-seeking lookalikes. It was that tiny ray of hope which allowed him to fall into a fitful sleep.

A hope that was dashed when he checked his phone at 3am (having been jolted awake by a particularly vivid night terror). As a result, he spent the next few hours searching for more photos, filing claims and reports all over social media, hoping they would get taken down sometime before anyone he knew could find out, and had gotten no more sleep.

“Good morning, Adrien,” a stern female voice rang suddenly from the other side of the large dining hall.

Adrien suppressed a grimace. “Good morning, Nathalie.”

Nathalie paused, chewed on her lip as she stared at him without blinking, and then continued, “You have Chinese lessons at 6pm tonight as always. You also have an early morning photo shoot tomorrow with a 5am wake-up call, so be sure to set your alarm for the correct time. Your piano recital is this Saturday so don’t forget to get in some extra practice this week.”

Adrien stared back expectantly, wondering when the warning about his behavior and consequences would come. A weighty pause and an air of tension hovered over the two of them, and the lack of conversation turned awkward, so Adrien forced himself to say, "Sure."

Nathalie stared back, trying her best to maintain a professionally cool and nonchalant expression, although Adrien could tell she was struggling to remain her composure. Adrien fretted internally, wringing his hands under the table, wondering if she knew.

Of course she knows, this is Nathalie . But why hasn’t she said anything?!

After several seconds, which felt like he was held at the precipice of a roller coaster and waiting anxiously for the drop, Nathalie finally said, “That is all.” She added a quick, “Have a good day at your shoot,” before walking away briskly.

Adrien consciously had to stop his jaw from dropping.

“Th-thank you, Nathalie!” he managed to blurt out when she’d almost reached the door.

She stopped abruptly and looked back, her eyes full of an emotion he couldn’t place. There was an unspoken understanding floating in the air between them. A solidarity. An odd sort of pact forged through kinship, through a need to survive together as allies under hostile territory.

“You’re welcome,” she replied quietly and exited the room, leaving a very puzzled Adrien behind.

He sank into his chair like a deflating balloon, recovering from the pressure and anxiety of what he’d originally anticipated from this meeting. Any time there was something he’d be getting in trouble for, Nathalie was always kind enough to warn him beforehand. If she hadn’t mentioned anything to him (and he was positive that she knew who he’d been with the night before), it meant that Gabriel hadn’t found out and that she wasn’t going to tell him, since he relied on her to inform him of any news that might interest him.

This wasn’t the first time Nathalie had put her job on the line for Adrien. Why would she continue to risk her job, her position as his father’s confidante and right-hand-man, so to speak, on his behalf? She received nothing tangible from helping him; there wasn’t anything he’d be able to repay her with. No accruing of favors or debts to hold over his head or she would have said something already. Adrien knew she wasn’t happy working for them and yet she’d never resigned. Why was she still here after all the trouble the Agrestes had brought into her life?

Whatever the reason, Adrien was thankful. He let out a large sigh of relief, hoping that some of Ladybug’s legendary luck (which had apparently rubbed off on him last night) would stick around a little bit longer.

After finishing getting ready, Adrien opened the front door and was halfway across the threshold when he heard a stern voice call his name from inside the house. He spun around to see Gabriel, who had just exited his office. Adrien felt an unpleasant chill trickle down his spine, yet tried to keep his expression neutral.

“Good morning, Father,” he called back as casually as he could.

Gabriel approached until they were less than an arm’s length away and stared down at him through his glasses. Despite having almost reached his height, he still felt so large and imposing that Adrien couldn’t help but almost shake when he stood this close even after all these years.

“I could sense you last night,” Gabriel finally spoke. “What happened?”

Adrien felt his limbs freeze up. Of course his father had felt his distress when he’d had his claustrophobic attack he’d had in the closet with Ladybug the night before. To him, being able to detect strong emotions came as natural as breathing by this point.

“Oh, I- uhh... I was watching a horror movie,” he lied as nonchalantly as he could.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow and his mouth twisted into a disapproving frown.

Adrien wasn’t sure if he looked convinced or not. He continued, “I’m sorry if I disturbed you. I’d forgotten how much I disliked scary movies, but I got really into the story and wanted to see what happened.” He forced himself to smile, but was pretty sure he probably just ended up looking like the grimacing face emoji.

Gabriel grunted slightly in acknowledgement. “See that it doesn’t happen again. You were fortunate I was already in bed and reading a book. The emotion from you last night was quite tempting, and I have often pondered whether you would make a more efficient akuma than you are as Chat Noir.”

Suppressing a flinch, Adrien replied dejectedly, “Understood.”

They went their separate ways quietly, having nothing left to say to each other. Adrien walked slowly, desperately attempting to squelch the negative emotions he was currently feeling so as to not alert his father again. A sense of restlessness and desperation had been slowly growing within him for a long while now, and yet he couldn’t place what it was trying to compel him to do. He wanted to disappear, to run far away to the other side of the world and never have to see his house, or even Paris, ever again.

Taking a deep breath, he reined himself in.

I need to calm down. Think, Adrien… Think about something good, think about something nice, think about something that makes you happy. Like puppies, or ice cream. Or...

Or her.

Adrien felt his throat dry up and he gulped down a thick lump. He allowed his mind to drift towards better memories, thinking of Ladybug and her gentle smile; of the way her slender arms felt when they embraced him, so comforting and warm, making him feel completely safe; of how she smelled of fresh spring flowers and rain, and of her sweet voice as she sang the tune he associated with unconditional love and acceptance because of his mother.

Unconsciously touching his cheek, he blushed as he yet again mentally replayed the moment when Ladybug had kissed him the night before and how it made his body feel like it was on fire. He caught himself wishing he would’ve been able to return the kiss, idly wondering how her soft skin would have felt against his lips instead…

His eyes flew open.

What am I saying?!

He shook his head quickly, having finally reached his chauffeur, definitively attempting to ignore the whirlwind of butterflies in his stomach as he entered the car and tried to mentally prepare himself (again) for the day ahead.

(Mood Music: Dance for Me Wallis - Abel Korzeniowski, W.E. Soundtrack

Ladybug ran across the rooftops, agitatedly searching for an elusive candy-themed akuma, whose presence only caused her stomach to growl that much louder.

Why does there have to be an akuma now ? It’s lunchtime!! Why does Hawkmoth want me to be hungry?! I just wanted my sandwich! Well, prepare to feel the wrath of a “hangry” Ladybug, you jerk!!

She swung across buildings casting worried glances down below. Left and right people had been turned into chocolate statues, which posed a major problem as it was a particularly warm day in August, so she didn’t have long before the the statues would begin to melt.

She needed to hurry and find this akuma.

Hearing a thunderous roar, she jumped down onto the pavement and sprinted toward the sound only to find the akumatized person pointing a humongous chocolate cannon at a little girl. Seperated from her parents, the girl screamed and ran, but there was no way she would be able to outrun the much larger man.

“Stop!! Don’t shoot, she’s just a kid!” Ladybug shouted, rushing towards them.

To Ladybug’s surprise, the akuma pointed its canon at the sky and fired. And yet it wasn’t a thick stream of chocolate as she had expected it to be.

“Are you serious?? Chocolate rain?! ” Ladybug huffed incredulously. Finally reaching the little girl, Ladybug pulled her close, spinning her yoyo upwards to shield them like an umbrella. She quipped, “Here’s how we’ll stay dry!”

“Then I’ll make others feel the pain!” the monster bellowed, conjuring up a wave of chocolate to ride on, using a gigantic chocolate bar as a surfboard, and sped towards a shopping center where people were still scrambling to evacuate.

“Hey, get back here!” Ladybug exclaimed, chasing after him. She called back at the little girl, pointing at a fabric store whose owners she knew. “Go inside that building over there with the blue sign! They’ll help you hide!” She watched flicked a glance over her shoulder to make sure the girl was heading to the building, then focused on the akuma.

Ladybug gradually closed the gap between her and the akuma, who was about a couple of blocks away roaring at the crowds. Before Ladybug could reach the akuma, something hit her hard from the side, sweeping her away and shoving her against the side of a building.

Wind knocked out of her and seeing stars, she barely registered what had just happened and struggled weakly to no avail. Thankfully, she’d managed to reflexively protect her neck from whatever hard metal weapon was pinning her down, which she subsequently tried to push away once she noticed its presence, but was too disoriented to succeed.

She groaned, blinking away the fuzziness in her vision and trying to identify her assailant. When she fully opened her eyes, she was met with a pair of bright green, iridescent ones, their unmistakable familiar glow sending a shiver up her spine.

“Chat…?” she rasped, aghast, feeling her stomach drop like an anvil. Staring wide-eyed and having been rendered speechless, her mind was filled with questions, but a single one stood out above all others.

Why?

Ladybug felt stupidly naive now, having let her guard down, foolishly inferring that just because Chat hadn’t shown up yet it might mean that her words had had an impact on him. How presumptuous of her to assume that with a few well meaning gestures she would be able to forge the beginnings of a friendship with someone who had been her enemy for years, how utterly arrogant she’d been.

She had tried so hard to not get her hopes up in regards to where Chat Noir’s allegiance would lie during the next akuma attack. And yet, now that that moment had finally arrived, she still felt woefully unprepared for the amount of hurt she was feeling.

Her chest heaved rapidly and she willed herself to fight back, desperately wanting to punch him, to kick him, to do anything other than to remain frozen under his grasp, and yet she couldn’t summon the strength. She knew she needed to. She had always been able to, putting aside whatever curiosity and worries she’d had about the boy under the mask to do her job. But for some reason this time was different. Had she compromised herself and her own competence in her ill-fated attempt to broker peace between them?

I can’t hurt him. I just can’t.

In the midst of her confusion, she began to plead hoarsely, “Chat, please, I--” But she was interrupted when he placed his fingertips gently on top of her lips. He leaned into her, the subtle yet alluring scent of leather and expensive cologne he always carried with him causing her insides to flutter. The world seemed to have stopped as he pressed up against her, and she could barely hear the commotion around them.

Chat Noir’s cheek lightly brushed against hers and she gasped softly, the confusingly pleasant contact producing goosebumps all over her body. He finally whispered, “The akuma’s in the mixing spoon inside his apron pocket. Watch out for his licorice net gun.”

He lingered for a few extra moments then pulled back, giving her one last indecipherable look, and as quickly as he appeared he was gone. Ladybug stood there, stupefied. All she could do was stare at him vaulting away like a shadow while everything else seemed to move in slow motion.

What the hell just happened?

The incident with the candy akuma was not a one-time occurrence. Chat Noir remained an indirect participant in the next few akuma battles, never staying in one place longer than it took for him to discreetly tackle or corner Ladybug, always making it look like they were fighting, and secretly whisper the location of the akumatized item, some advice or clue, and, on occasion, even a few words of caution.

But Adrien knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this up forever. His father had said little about it but Adrien knew that he had noticed, and his excuses about having previous commitments and lessons to attend, or claiming to be concerned about civilian safety (Gabriel had always disdainfully scoffed at his attempts to protect those in immediate danger) would not hold up much longer. It was only a matter of time before Gabriel became truly suspicious.

All he needed was more time.

Somehow, in the midst of his busy schedule and extracurricular activities, for the last few weeks Adrien had begun to secretly research and study as much material as he could about magical artifacts (scarce as said information was), hoping to find some way where he and his father wouldn’t be at odds with Ladybug anymore, and everything could be solved neatly and without violence.

So far there he hadn’t found anything even remotely useful, and his morale was running low.

And so Adrien found himself underground as he often did, clutching a bouquet of pink carnations and standing by the glass capsule (he refused to call it a casket or coffin) that his mother resided in. Harsh, bright, fluorescent lights illuminated this giant underground chamber, which gave it a cold, clinical atmosphere, almost like a hospital room.

(Mood Music: True Colors - Brooklyn Duo cover)

He stood there for a while, taking in her appearance. Since she'd fallen into a death-like coma, she hadn't aged a single day, looking as radiant and beautiful as ever.

Just like he remembered her.

“Hi, Mom,” he said, tracing a finger over the cool, hard surface, speaking quietly and reverently, as if anything louder than a murmur would somehow cause her discomfort.

“It’s so good to see your face right now. So much has been happening lately.” He sighed, then busied himself, placing the fresh flowers in an ornate vase that sat on the table, throwing away the old bouquet into the wastebasket underneath it. “Father’s kept himself really busy and I hardly ever get to see him, even less than usual. We’re like strangers. Sometimes I feel like the real Gabriel Agreste got abducted by aliens years ago and the one we have now is some nefarious martian doppelganger.” He finished fiddling with the flowers and leaned against the capsule, speaking casually, “I mean, you know how he is, he’s never exactly been a cheery ray of sunshine; he’s always had an ornery side,” he chuckled softly.

“But now he’s…” He groaned with a grimace and rubbed the back of his neck. “Now he’s like... a black hole. Not a single spark or hint of light in him anymore. And he sucks your happiness away if you spend time around him. I’m not sure how Nathalie can deal with him every day. I don’t really understand what’s happened to him after all these years. I mean, I know he misses you, like always. But there’s gotta be something more. And I…” He paused, shifting his weight uncomfortably. “I don’t think he’s doing so well. Health-wise, that is.”

Taking a deep breath, he continued, “I walked in on him once a while back as he was having one of his coughing fits and... I saw the blood on the handkerchief. I ran up to him and asked to take him to a doctor but he waved it off, claiming it was just an old stain. And yet, ever since that day, he started using black handkerchiefs instead. He won’t tell me exactly how using his miraculous against Ladybug has been affecting him, but I know this is connected. I don’t know how much longer he can keep this up.” He paused, biting his lip. “I’m really worried about him,” he finally said. He was silent for a few minutes, absentmindedly cleaning a few fingerprints off the glass with his sleeve, trying to keep himself from imagining two caskets side by side.

Never in his life had he felt such heaviness, such sadness, such weariness as the kind he’d experienced this past year. His relationship with his father had deteriorated far worse than he’d ever thought possible. Gabriel’s explosive, violent, and often unpredictable outbursts had everyone around him constantly on edge. And although Adrien would hate to admit it, he was almost afraid of being in his own house. It had gotten to the point where he’d begun wearing a snug leather glove while he slept, so that he would get woken up if Gabriel ever attempted to remove his ring. It hadn’t happened thus far, but one could never be too careful around him nowadays. Something had to change, but he didn’t know what it was.

“Anyway, sorry, enough about that. Ummm,” He changed the subject, scrunching his face deep in thought. “Oh! School starts next week, so that’s pretty exciting! I get to see my friends every day instead of once every few weeks. You’d like them, mom, I know you would,” he rambled excitedly. “I’ve talked about them before. Nino, Alya, and--oh, I think you’d especially like Marinette. She’s a very artsy person, like you are. And she’s super nice. I wish you could meet them all. Someday, maybe...” He smiled sadly, wishing with all his heart that that day actually would come, and yet his hope continued to dwindle

“Oh, and…” Adrien turned his head away briefly and almost winced, like a kid who was about to get grounded. “There’s… someone else I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t know if she counts as a friend yet, but I… I’ve been spending some time with- um, with L-Ladybug,” he stammered. “D-don’t get upset though! I’m just trying to figure out how to help you and not have to fight her. There’s gotta be a way to do both. I just haven’t figured out how yet. I know it would probably be easier to keep doing what Father says and just steal her miraculous, but after all these years it still hasn’t worked and I’m… I don’t...” he trailed off, struggling to find the right words and his hands curling into fists.

Damn it. Why is this so hard?

He let out a big, shuddering sigh, curling in on himself. “I’m tired of fighting, mom. I’m just tired.” He knelt down by his mother’s feet, wearily sagging against the platform and placing a hand on it.

A few minutes passed. Adrien’s thumb stroked the side of her capsule wistfully, imagining how things were many years ago. He would sit on a plush, fluffy rug leaning into his mother’s legs as she tenderly stroked his head while sitting on her favorite sofa, and they would talk for hours.

“I’ve been hanging out with her. With Ladybug, that is,” he finally spoke. “I’ve gotten to know her a little bit. And every time I’m with her, it just hits me that she’s just… a normal girl. A normal girl who’s been granted huge powers, but still, just a girl. She’s not some creepy harpy with fangs who’ll gouge your eyes out with her claws, like Father always made her sound like. She’s…” He smiled fondly, the smile reaching his eyes for the first time that day. “She’s kind of cool, actually. She’s so different from what I ever expected her to be. She’s kind and funny, very friendly, and she’s really prett-- UMM, I mean--” His head shot up, eyes popping wide open. “She’s, uhhh…! She’s pretty neat.” He cleared his throat and fought the urge to unbutton his sweater, since it had suddenly gotten very warm in this large, empty hall.

“Anyway, uh…” He coughed once and continued, “I know I can trust her. I just want us all to get along, and I know she does too.” The side of his mouth quirked upwards and he looked up at Emilie. “It’ll be our little secret, okay?”

He stood and laid his upper half on top of the glass, draping an arm across the capsule and setting his head down upon the cold surface; it was as close to a hug as he was able to get from her.

He looked upon her frozen features with a small smile on his face and said softly, “I love you, Mom. I’ll visit you again soon, okay?”

Adrien made his way down the long platform, finally reaching the exit. He took one last look at the end of the chamber, the bright green of the vegetation in the manmade oasis contrasting starkly against the greys and blacks of the hall’s beams, pillars, and walls. He flicked off the lights and exited, the loud creak of the metal door echoing across the hall, which then became a silent tomb once more.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Ladynoir #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Enemies AU #Discordant Sonata #fanfiction #Eden writes

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gofordrakgo · 5 years ago

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Dwelling Chapter Three

“ ‘No! No way!’ When he only responded by sticking his lip out further, she leaned forward, grabbed a hold of one side of his suspenders, pulled them back and then let them snap back against his chest. ‘Ow!’ He squawked, scrambling away from her to press himself against the other counter. ‘That hurt!’ ”

Dwelling Summary

Dwelling Chapter One

Dwelling Chapter Two

Dwelling Chapter Four

On any given night Shea lay in bed for hours before falling asleep. Somehow she fell asleep before her head even touched the pillow in the spare bed in Lipsky’s apartment. She dreamt of swirling colors: green, black, blue mingled with odd flashes of orange, but by the time she woke up the next morning she remembered none of it.

She woke to the sound of creaky cabinets opening and closing, and pots and pans clinking together. A slim beam of sunlight shone through the cracks in the blinds. She lay in bed waiting for a sense of panic to settle in, for her brain to start wondering where she was or why she wasn’t inside Go Tower. It never happened. She felt warm, in a cozy sort of way, and the noise from the kitchen seemed familiar and comforting.

Never one to just lie in bed for hours after waking up, not that she’d had much choice in the matter, Shea stood, pulled her grimy jeans back on, and slipped out into the kitchen.

Drew seemed not to hear her and she watched him in silence, stifling a yawn. He hadn’t combed his hair yet and it stuck up in odd places, loose curls forming at the nape of his neck. The way he moved reminded her of someone waiting to start dancing, despite the lack of music. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, reached for a spatula with a snappy movement of his wrist, drumming his fingers on the counter as he did.

He wore dark jeans that hung loosely off his waist, secured by navy blue suspenders with white polka dots. In contrast, the white button-up shirt he wore was clearly too small on him, she could see every muscle in his shoulders and back flexing as he moved around. Shea blinked at him a few times. He both looked cuter, and far geekier than the previous night.

Without a word Shea walked the rest of the way into the kitchen, popping up to sit on the counter again. Drew yelped and jumped away from her, throwing his arms up to cover his head.

“Sh-ngh- don’t do that,” he shouted at her. Breathing heavily, he dropped his arms back to his sides still staring at her.

She blinked at him, a little startled by his initial scream, but otherwise unfazed. “Jeez. Sor-ry, scaredy-cat.” His hair looked even more sticky-uppy in the front.

“Oh, yes. You seem so apologetic.” He rolled his eyes and stomped back to his place in front of the stove. Scrambled eggs were cooking in one pan, bacon in the other. It looked delicious and her mouth started watering as she watched him cook.

Shea shrugged. “At least I said sorry. It’s not my fault you got scared.”

He turned his head to glare at her, taking the eggs off the stove. He shoveled them onto two separate plates, on the counter opposite her. He switched the spatula out for a set of tongs, checked the bacon and then placed two pieces on both plates.

He leaned against the other counter, watching her, and lifted up one of the plates. She held a hand out, expecting him to pass the plate to her. Instead, he shook his head and took a bite of the eggs.

“No way. You still have to answer two questions if you want a meal,” he said, after swallowing. A vague hint of a smirk took over his face.

“Well then what’d you bother making two plates for?” she snapped. His smirk pissed her off, despite the fact that they had agreed on two questions for a meal just a few hours before. “I’m done answering questions.”

“Then I’m not going to ask any,” he said. He plucked a piece of bacon off what should have been her plate and bit into it.

“Hey!” Shea protested. She felt the heat, both from him pissing her off and from her own embarrassment start coursing through her veins. She had to make a very real effort to calm down before plasma started to shoot out of her hands. She hid her hands behind her back in fists, as her fingertips burst into green flame. “Ugh,” she finally muttered, giving up as the fire died. “Fine.”

“What’s your last name?”

“Pick a different question.”

“Fine. Why don’t you want me to know your last name?”

“Not answering that either.”

Drew pushed his glasses up with the back of his hand. “You must not be very hungry.”

“Just ask something else, okay? I’m not answering questions like that!”

“Fine! When you decided to run away, where did you plan on going?”

“I didn’t. Mostly I just went to all the addresses listed in roommate wanted ads, but none of them worked out.”

“Okay. Um. Oh! How old are you, actually?”

“Sixteen. Gimme.” She held her hand out again, and this time he picked her plate up and passed it over. He’d swapped one of his pieces of bacon with the one from her plate that he’d bitten, leaving her two full pieces. She took a huge bite of the eggs, pleasantly surprised to find that they were even more delicious than they looked. “How old are you?” Shea asked around a mouthful of food.

“Twenty-one. Are you planning on returning home anytime soon?”

“I already answered your two questions.”

“Well, you’ve also already got another night to stay here, so I figure two more and you could have lunch too.”

“Don’t you have a job or- or school or something?”

“It’s Saturday. No class. And I do have a job, but it’s on-campus so I also don’t work on weekends.”

“What kind of job?”

“I’m a TA.”

“A what?”

“Teachers assistant. I give exams, help grade essays and tutor students who need extra help. Are you planning on going home? Ever?

“Cool. And… no.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“I’m still not answering that.”

“Aw c’mon, please!” His lower lip jutted out as his eyes went wide with a false sort of innocence.

“No! No way!” When he only responded by sticking his lip out further, she leaned forward, grabbed a hold of one side of his suspenders, pulled them back and then let them snap back against his chest.

“Ow!” He squawked, scrambling away from her to press himself against the other counter. “That hurt!��

“Yeah, kinda the point. The puppy dog look doesn’t suit you.”

“Hmph. Says you.”

“Why do you care so much about why I left, anyway?”

“I don’t care, I’m just a naturally curious individual.”

Shea scoffed. “Yeah right.”

Drew’s face flushed bright red, and he dumped his empty plate into the sink. “I’ve got tests to grade, anyway,” he mumbled and walked back into his room.

Shea stared after him. Sitting alone in the kitchen during the day seemed much more strange than it had in the middle of the night. It no longer reminded her of her childhood home. It was much too quiet for that now that the sun was up. There had always been so much noise: Dad’s tools buzzing away in the garage, Mom practicing her lesson plans before class, Fearless Ferret playing on the TV, Merrick making a fool out of himself with whatever new plot to get attention he’d come up with, Wendell and Westley’s baby babble and toddling footsteps. It drove her crazy back then. She’d give just about anything to get it back now.

The Go Tower dwarfed their old home, and though sound constantly echoed down the cavernous hallways, it wasn’t the same. Instead of babble between Wendell and Westley, she heard more and more voices emanating from their training room as they pushed the limits of how many clones of themselves they could make, testing themselves to the point of exhaustion. Instead of Merrick poorly performing magic tricks at the breakfast table, she heard him laugh after scaring the staff by shrinking down and returning to normal before they spotted him. Instead of Fearless Ferret, she heard weights clinking together as Heath pushed himself to become stronger and stronger. Instead of lesson plans, she heard her mother writing out training schedules. Instead of buzzing tools, she heard her father on the phone with government agencies seeking the help of Team Go making deals and discussing payment.

Though having her own bedroom started out nice, it grew lonely fast. The space was far too large for just one person. Like each of her brothers, except for the twins who insisted upon sharing everything since even their powers were identical, her bedroom in Go Tower was closer to being its own house, particularly because it consisted of several rooms. She had her own bathroom, bigger than both bathrooms in their old home combined. She had an entire gym in one room that held a treadmill, weights, punching bags, yoga mats, and various other general exercise equipment, almost all of which she was expected to use every day. Attached to the gym was her power-focused training room which held large cement blocks for her to explode with plasmablasts, a wall made of cement, painted with targets for her to practice her aim, scraps of metal for her to practice temperature control and, of course, a number of fire extinguishers. She also had a study area, with state of the art home-school textbooks on every subject imaginable, a large TV screen with video connection to various tutors around the world, and a little robot that was meant to quiz her, but it often malfunctioned and repeated the same question over and over, no matter the subject she chose. The actual bedroom itself held a king-size bed that made her feel the way she though drowning might feel.

Actually, when she thought about it, her bedroom reminded her of Drew’s whole apartment. She also had a sofa and loveseat, though they were green, that faced a television screen, though hers was far nicer and was surrounded by what must be every horror movie ever made. She had a large table in one corner, that mostly consisted of drawings of different battle plans. The only things she really liked about her room, were the bookshelves that reached from floor to ceiling. The whole room looked like a library. She even had a reading nook and fireplace. Really, the whole thing was absurd. Her closet was bigger than Drew’s guest room, despite the fact that she alternated between her uniform and gym clothes most days of the week.

Unable to handle sitting still doing nothing after so many years of nonstop movement except for sleeping, Shea leaped off the counter. Part of her wanted to go knock on Drew’s door, but she didn’t know what she’d say to him. Plus, she didn’t want to look desperate for his attention. After all, she was only meant to be there for one more night and for all she knew he was planning on calling the police about finding a runaway.

She dumped her plate into the sink next to his and wandered off to find the bathroom. It wasn’t particularly hard to find, given that there were only two doors she hadn’t seen opened. She opened the first to find the linen closet Drew had mentioned the night before, so it came as no surprise that the second led to the actual bathroom.

The bright red shower curtain stuck to the side of the bathtub, but it didn’t look at all grimy. Shea peeled it back and saw that the bottom of the tub was lined with a clear adhesive, decorated with multi-colored robots, aliens and rocket ships. What a dork. And who used blueberry-ash shampoo? Curious, she picked up the bottle and opened the top. It did smell kind of fruity with a weird fiery after smell. She couldn’t decide if she liked it or not. His body wash, some sort of off-brand thing, she did like. It’s label simply read ‘Body Wash For Men’ and it smelled kind of like water, but it had a sort of a woodsy undertone that made her think of leaves changing color in the fall—something she’d rarely seen since her parents purchased Go City.

As she moved to turn the water on, she realized she probably should ask before just using his shower, especially since she’d need to use his shampoo and body wash. She decided that bothering him because she was bored was entirely different from bothering him because she needed something, and after standing outside his door for an awkwardly long time, she knocked.

The door swung open a moment later. “What?” Peering around the corner she could see him hunched over a desk tucked nearly into the corner of the room; he must have reached behind him to open the door. He’d flattened his hair, but only a little. He didn’t turn to look at her.

“Can- um- can I use your shower?”

Drew’s pen finally stopped moving on the paper as he uttered a quiet, “oh.” He turned around and blinked at her before properly answering. “Right, yes. Of course. Um. Here.” He stood up and shuffled past her out into the hallway. She stood behind him, feeling more and more like the little kid he claimed she was, waiting as he opened up the linen closet. He passed her a faded blue towel, that smelled of the same lavender laundry detergent as the sheets on her bed. “I- do you want a clean shirt? I probably have something I could give you.”

“Oh, yeah, that’d be… nice, I guess.” She liked annoying him more. Being polite felt awkward.

“I’ll leave something by the door, then?”

“Okay,” she said, forcing a shrug. “Thanks.” She hurried into the bathroom.

The shower felt like absolute bliss. The water ran lukewarm at best, the pressure varied between barely dripping and hard enough to hurt, and she still couldn’t decide if she liked the way the shampoo smelled. But it felt so nice to feel clean that she hardly noticed all of that.

The mirror hadn’t even steamed up by the time she got out. She realized as she looked in the mirror that she’d been an absolute disaster before. She still looked like a mess and a half. She hadn't even realized that there were yellow-blue bruises lining her chin, presumably from her most recent fight. Briefly, she wondered if the real reason Drew wanted to know who she was so bad was because he thought she was being abused. There were other bruises, on her shoulders and her thighs that she had actually known were there.

The one on her left shoulder, a nasty looking thing, came from being thrown clear across a giant room and slamming into the wall. At first, she’d genuinely believed her shoulder had been dislocated. Most of the ones on her thighs came from a guy who called himself ‘The Hunter’. He shot her with a number of darts while she’d been dealing with another villain. Hego lectured her the entire time they were in the Go-Car for going too hard on him once she caught him. He didn’t care at all that his goal had been to kill her, or that the only reason she was still alive was because her plasma burned up the poison.

Annoyed, Shea tried combing through her hair with her fingers. It didn’t work very well, and upon not finding a brush anywhere in the bathroom she debated between chopping it all off and just sucking it up and asking if he had a comb. For the moment she just gave up. She wrapped the towel tight around herself and listened at the door for a long moment, trying to make sure she couldn’t hear him outside. When she felt sure, she opened the door a crack and snatched up the clothes he’d left on the floor.

He’d brought her a shirt, as he said he would, but surprisingly he’d also brought a pair of gym shorts. She felt gross putting on the same underwear she’d been wearing, even after turning them inside out, but she did what she had to. She really should have thought this whole running away thing through more, she told herself, she didn’t even have money to actually get clean underwear. Still, sliding into otherwise clean clothes felt nice in a way she wasn’t used to.

The gym shorts were a little loose and hung at an awkward height, but ultimately they stayed up well enough after she tied the strings as tight as possible. The t-shirt actually fit quite nicely, if a little long. She suspected that he’d given her a Mighty Martian shirt, just to spite her.

When she left the bathroom he had moved out onto the couch, red-marked papers scattered around him on the cushions and coffee table.

He spoke without even turning to look at her. “I’m sorry if they don’t fit quite right. It’s all I had on hand.”

“Fits fine,” she said and sat down on the spare chair. “You’ve got pen all over your arms you know. And on your face.”

He acknowledged her with a grunt, one of his shoulders moving up in half a shrug.

“What are you grading anyway?”

“Chemistry exams.”

“Didn’t classes just start like a week ago? Why are they taking exams already?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing at his temples. Was she annoying him that much? “These are finals from the summer course.”

“Oh.”

After a minute of restless fidgeting, Shea grabbed one of the exams that had already been graded and looked it over. She understood exactly none of it. Aside from not knowing anything about chemistry the guy had terrible handwriting, although he seemed to have gotten himself a decent enough grade.

“You spelled ‘calorimetry’ wrong,” she pointed out, reading through the notes he had scrawled throughout the paper.

“How would you know?”

“Because the question on the front spelled it differently from how you spelled it. You spelled it like ‘cal-om-ir-etry’.”

Drew snatched the paper from her hands, holding it practically up to his nose as he searched for his mistake. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” he moaned, as he saw she was right. He slammed the test down on the coffee table and hunched over it, roughly scratching the word out. She heard him spelling the word under his breath like a chant, though he didn’t touch the pen to the paper.

“You just mixed up the letters, it really isn’t that big a deal.”

“Nygh- yes it is,” he snapped at her, throwing the pen to the coffee table and burying his face in his hands, which pushed his glasses up awkwardly into his hair.

She really hoped he wouldn’t start crying again, she didn’t know how to deal with that. Acting on some semblance of instinct she snatched the paper back, picked up his discarded pen and wrote the word properly underneath where he’d scratched it out.

“There. Problem solved.” She pushed the paper back towards him and suppressed the temptation to throw the pen at his head. He pulled his hands away from his face and yanked his glasses back down to look at the paper.

He seemed to read her writing multiple times before confirming that she had actually spelled it correctly. He opened and shut his mouth several times and Shea couldn’t decide if he looked grateful or annoyed.

“Thanks,” he finally grunted, his voice softer than she’d heard it. When they made eye contact his entire face flushed and he quickly looked back down.

“You know, you could’ve easily done that yourself. So what’s the deal?”

He shook his head slowly and didn’t answer.

Shea crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair. “I’m not gonna quit bugging you until you tell me what your deal is.”

“You’re not going to quit bugging me anyway,” he pointed out. “And it’s none of your business, alright?”

“Nah. I wanna know.”

“What’s your last name?”

Any amusement she felt vanished instantly. “Okay, fine. Just shut up about that.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“You know, your shampoo smells really weird.”

“You know, I really don’t care what you think about it. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fancy shampoo back home.” He glared at her, but even as he said he started to look like he felt bad about it.

“I’d rather weird-smelling shampoo to going back there,” she muttered, and this time it was her turn to look away when he looked at her. She shifted her hands behind her back. It had been too long since she’d burned off enough of the plasma energy, and she could feel how even the slightest hint of distress or annoyance was pushing her closer and closer to a full-on fire forming in her hands.

She shot off the chair and stomped back into the room. She remembered not to lock the door just as she began to do so. Instead, she pressed her back to the door, held her hands out in front of her and finally let them light up. The whole room glowed green around her, brighter than she’d seen since the comet hit.

When she was twelve she had tried to burn up all of the plasma in her body, thinking maybe if she could her parents would go back to treating her like Shea instead of like Shego. She’d let her hands burn and burn, until, eventually, she began throwing up, became blindingly dizzy and passed out on the cold hard floor of her training room. The worst part was that when she finally woke up she was still completely alone in her training room. She’d never tried it again. For days afterward using her powers at all brought her close to tears, the skin around her hands had burned and blistered so horribly. Around about a month later the burns turned back in callouses, and she’d never tried again.

Burning her hands in the spare bedroom felt a lot like that. Part of her wanted to just burn and burn until she absolutely couldn’t anymore. She hated feeling all these emotions again. For the last four years, she had mostly just forced herself to forget that she had ever had a life outside of ‘Shego’. She trained, and fought, and studied and felt nothing.

And this, this… geek kept making her feel… He just kept making her feel. She felt guilty when he seemed upset, he actually made her laugh, made her feel protected, he annoyed her in a way that she also found endearing, and… She didn’t even know. He made her feel so many different ways, sometimes all at once. She no longer knew whether she liked that better than feeling constantly apathetic.

When her veins finally began to run cold, she stopped and collapsed to her knees with her head buried in her hands. She wanted to feel normal again and none of this helped. No matter what she did she wasn’t going to get Hego to be Heath again or get Mego to go back to being Merrick. Wego might never realize they were two people; that their names had once been Wendell and Westley. Mom and Dad were never going to be Mom and Dad again. Were they even looking for her as Shea? As their daughter? Or were they looking for Shego?

She hated all of this so much. She hated it. She didn’t know the guy sitting behind the door, and she hated that he was the first person she’d felt anything other than dutiful apathy towards. She hated him for trying to get her to open up more and then hated herself for hating him. She hated that the clothes she wore belonged to a stranger, and she hated feeling like they could never be friends because she could never tell him the truth about who she was.

Suddenly she found herself standing up. She pushed open the door, and practically marched over to Drew.

#drakgo #drakken #drew lipsky #shego #shea go #drakken x shego #shego x drakken #drakken and shego #drakken and shego origin story #team go #drakgo fanfiction #kim possible #kp #Dwelling #chapter three #gofordrakgo #14 pages #4016 words

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smolstrawberrychara · 6 years ago

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Klance Au Month - Day 2 - Galtean

I went Galtean Royalty because I love that au so much ♥

I Forgot Something...

Lance is an Altean Prince, up to no good, sneaking back into Castle Marmora because he chickened out of doing something earlier in the day. That something being confessing that he'd loved to kiss the Galran Prince Keith.

Read on ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17636060

“Psst.”

Lance hung his body over the castle wall, kicking his legs as he tried to stretch his body beyond natures restraints.

“Pssssst!” He repeated, more insistent. Keith was walking along the grounds right below him, stopping every now and then to stroke a gloved hand along one of the lower swinging tree branches heavy with lilac flowers. The outer gardens of Castle Marmora were more of an orchard than a garden. Huge, sprawling trees with shining, pea-green leaves decorated the perfectly cut lawn and provided great blockades against Lance’s vision. Smacking at the branches, he leaned further out in order to keep on eye on the Galran prince who was getting further and further away by the minute. Lance had to do something drastic.

“KEITH.” He yelled, throwing himself further out. His hand caught on a few branches that dipped wildly with the weight but held. Keith finally glanced up, blinking wide purple eyes at him. Lance’s heart skipped at the sight. He was so handsome, with his deep indigo pupils and golden irises that swallowed Lance whole. A wide, pointed ear flicked on his head like a cat’s and his mouth opened but before anything could come out Lance registered the sound of snapping twigs.

Oh no.

His hand crushed pollen into his palm as the branch gave way and gravity finally had its way with him. Lance tumbled head first into the foliage, wood scratching at his clothes and leaves smashing into his face. He braced himself for impact when he found himself, bouncing to a halt.

Instead of hard ground, there was taut muscles cupping his legs and back. Lance blinked up to find an alarmed face.

“Nice catch!”

Lance jolted. Then he was violently swung around as Keith moved to face the voice.

Above them, hand squished against a plump cheek, was a large boy in golden armour. The yellow ticks by his brown eyes seemed to melt as he watched the two like they were a movie.

“Hunk!” Lance squawked, feeling the blood rush to his face again. “What the hell are you doing here!?”

“I’m your bodyguard,” he said flatly, lounging against the concrete, “s’kinda my job.”

“Not when I sneak out…” Lance mumbled to himself, leaning into Keith’s chest. He was dressed in his deepest blue finery with a button-down shirt, silver chest plate and embellished jacket fitted over the top. It was Lance’s favourite outfit because Keith wore his sword with the strap slung over his shoulder instead of tied at the waist and that somehow made him sexier. He found himself poking at the white leather, attempting to ignore Hunk’s vigilant eye.

“Lance. I’m a royally trained body guard. You can’t just sneak away from me.”

No shit, he was like a goddamn cheetah or something.

Lance pouted, glaring up at him once again. “Well, I’m allowed my privacy.”

“And you can get it.” Hunk replied easily, “just tell me where you’re going and remember to bring your sword.”

Lance angrily swished the white lengths of his tunic back to reveal the bright, sapphire embedded hilt of his weapon, tucked neatly against his grey trousers. “I did bring my sword.”

Hunk hummed thoughtfully as Lance replaced the fabric like a delicate silk curtain. “But you didn’t tell me about this secret lil lovers’ rendezvous.”

“HUNK!” Lance screeched. Hunk knew that’s not what this was, that Keith and him were absolutely not an item. That was a whole different problem in itself. Speaking of, Keith looked down at Lance with a tilt to his head and wonky ears. Then he was looking back up at Hunk, lip caught under a tooth as he analysed him. Lance wanted to shrink into the ground. But also wanted to pull Keith down with him.

Hunk laughed easily, up on his wall, far away from any kind of harm Lance could put him under. Lance cursed him under his breath.

“Okay, okay, I’ll leave you.” Hunk said with a chuckle, “but just know, I’ll be right on the other side of this wall so speak up!”

Like hell Lance was gonna speak up! He stuck his tongue out at his friend, but Hunk had already hopped down the wall and out of sight. Why did everything have to be so complicated being royalty?

Keith cleared his throat and Lance suddenly remembered he was still being cradled in his arms. Blood rushed to his face again, and he threw his gaze out to the trees, attempting to crawl out of the embrace. Keith lowered him down like a gentlemen, before straightening his lapels and regarding Lance more formally.

“Did you need something?”

Lance swallowed thickly. Yes. He did.

A few weeks earlier they’d had a diplomatic meeting. Lance had been sent alone since as neighbouring kingdoms, the Galran and Altean families had always had a good relationship. There wasn’t much in the way of politics to discuss and Lance’s parents deemed him old enough to leave on his own missions. However, when they left, Lance’s entourage were attacked. Bandits appeared from the roadside, leaping at the horses and trying to steal the Royal seal. They were armed and fought dirty, stabbing at the horses and throwing stones at the knights. Lance immediately grabbed the seal – the stamp allowing him to approve any law, maintain his identity, and access classified information. Then he tied it to his belt and unsheathed his sword. Cutting his way out the fabric shelter of his carriage he swung into action, refusing to allow any of his court to get harmed. It was a bloody battle and Lance watched in horror as a bandit landed on Hunk’s back, toppling the sturdy man to the ground. He lifted a rock high to the air. Lance ran. He wasn’t going to make it.

Then an arrow shot past his head, a hairs breadth from his cheek. It stung straight into the arm of the bandit and the rock crashed to the ground. Hunk didn’t wait for a second chance. He quickly flipped their positions, trapping the bandit against the floor before tying his hands in effortless motion. The battle changed then, the mysterious bowmen shooting anyone who got too close - injuring, but never aiming to kill. Lance had never been more thankful in his life. As soon as the battle was won, he ran up the hill to find their heroic defender. However, the rocks were empty of anyone. All he found was gravel paths and jagged grey cliff edges.

Lance never found the person responsible. But he did find their arrows. They were exquisite. Made of a black wood, they had fletching made of the peacock feathers and the head was engraved with roses that wound around the flint. Lance picked up one that had missed its target and placed it in his belt loop for safe keeping.

The event had almost been forgotten, the arrow just another nameless treasure. That was until a few hours ago, when the two families had returned to Castle Marmora for a banquet. Lance noticed the pattern adorning the edges of the dining table. Roses. As he traced the etchings in awe, Shiro addressed him.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” He’d said, smiling kindly at Lance who felt like a deer caught in torch light. He’d nodded shakily. “Keith’s mother loved the pattern. Had everything engraved like that. Hey Keith!”

Shiro turned away to call his brother on the other side of the table. “Show Lance your pendant.”

Keith blinked at them, eyes lingering on Lance. It made his stomach fizzle. Keith always seemed so intense. Everything he did had purpose. Which meant it took everything in Lance not to believe those looks were nothing special.

He’d slid out of his chair and up to Lance’s side, bringing a chain out from beneath his shirt. He leant forward and Lance tried not to focus too much on the bob of his throat or the clean cut of his jaw. Then he noticed the pendant and his breath hitched. On the blackened silver oval were roses, swirling around the metal like vines. The carving was the exact same as the arrow head.

“Yeah, it’s an original design too,” Shiro continued. “Only she had the rights to use it. And now it belongs to Keith.”

Lance froze in the warm room. Keith was the only one with the design. Keith’s pendant matched the arrows. They were Keith’s arrows. Which meant Keith was the one saving Lance’s life.

Lance had felt a buzz beneath his skin all day after that. He knew Keith was a noble person and a fine prince. But he never thought he was a vigilante too. His stomach swooped at the thought. Keith was a caring prince. Someone who helped those in need no matter their status. Lance promised himself he’d thank him, let him know just how important he was to Lance. But then the afternoon was all busyness and food and he never got the chance to tell him. Or maybe, he might have just chickened out. He regretted his silence as soon as they left. Which was how he ended up sneaking out the palace and scaling walls.

Usually, a formal thank you was made with a bow. A sincere one involved holding one’s hand. But a deep feeling of gratitude, the one blooming in Lance’s heart, was shown by a kiss on the cheek.

Allura made it look effortless, thanking all their knights after battle with a ceremony in the throne room. Hell, even Lance made it look effortless as he met each member of their court, delicately taking their hands and leaning close to blushing cheeks.

Now he was the one blushing.

Because this wasn’t just a formal thank you for a worker, or a kind-hearted traveller. This was Keith. His Keith. The one he dreamt about kissing every other night. It meant more.

“I, uh…” Lance began, cursing the words for sounding so awkward, “I forgot something.”

Forgot to put my lips on that fuzzy cheek and whisper sweet nothings in the ears above it, he thought, biting down the words and the heat now coursing through his body.

“Oh, what was it?”

To tell you that I think I might be in love with you, Lance thought again, tummy twirling like one of the court dancers. He didn’t say this of course.

“An earring.” Lance said. There was a snort on the other side of the wall and Lance cast it a death glare. Damn Hunk and his supersonic hearing.

“An earring?” Keith repeated.

“Yep! An earring!” Oh my god why did he say that? Why didn’t he just admit he knew Keith was the secret bowman? “Must have fallen off in the dining hall!”

Lance forced out a laugh, willing his insides to finally fizzle away so he could just flop into the grass as a skin rug and disappear.

“You wanna go look for it?”

“What?” Lance squeaked.

“The earring.”

There was another snort and Lance wanted to throw himself through the wall just to slap Hunk. Keith’s ears twitched at the noise, and he looked over curiously to the spot Lance was attempting to blow up with his mind.

“As long as that’s okay with your bodyguard.” Keith said carefully. Lance wanted to die.

“Oh that is absolutely fine by me!” Hunk crowed from the other side of the wall, “hey, you want me to pack a lunch, you might be there a while!” His words dissolved into laughter and Lance fought the urge to growl. Keith looked back to Lance, blinking curiously and Lance felt like his head was going to erupt like a volcano.

“What does-?” Keith began but Lance quickly cut him off.

“Just some Altean humour, don’t worry about it.” Then he turned to the wall and took in a huge breath. “No thanks Hunk! Just quiznakking leave!”

More laughter, even harder than before. There were wheezing breaths and armour clattering like Hunk was struggling to even stand upright at that point. Lance flipped his head around and away. Grabbing Keith’s hand, he stormed towards the castle. He did not need Hunk’s teasing right now.

~*~

The dining room floor was gross and sticky. There were crumbs everywhere and Lance kept putting his hands in squidgy half chewed morsels that made him gag. Keith had offered to get his servants to look but Lance instantly refused. The more people involved, the more troublesome the situation would become when they inevitably did not find an earring. That thought alone made the endeavour worse. There was no earring. Lance was on his hands and knees, creaking over dark, polished floor boards for absolutely no reason. And Keith too. Guilt twisted in his gut as he looked over to the other. Keith was crawling around with complete resolution, scanning every inch of the room like a predator out for prey.

Lance crawled under the table with a sigh. He still hadn’t thanked Keith. And he’d made a complete fool of himself this whole afternoon. He’d tried to call off the search for the non-existent jewellery but Keith, being the sweet, loyal, person he was, refused to give up. The intensity in his eyes had Lance melting and he just nodded along before carrying out a more extensive search. Why? Why did he have to be so pathetic?

“Found it!”

What?

Footsteps thudded against the floor before Keith was sliding under the table to meet Lance. His face was red with the exertion and his eyes sparkled above a wide grin. Lance’s throat went dry.

“Look!”

Keith held out his hand and there, lying in the centre of a purple palm, was an earring. It was diamond encrusted, feather hanging below with a chain joining the base up to a silver cuff. It was beautiful. It was decidedly not Lance’s. He swallowed thickly.

“That’s it!” He lied.

Keith swelled with pride, eye’s only glowing brighter. Then he reached forward, brushing Lance’s hair back behind his ear.

“May I?’

Lance lost the ability to breathe. Keith was too good to him. He was so pure and innocent and charming. He was all goodness and Lance was a terrible person because he couldn’t refuse it. And even though he struggled to even speak, muscles pulled too tight in anticipation, he managed a nod.

Keith’s features softened. Then he was leaning forward to clip the earring to Lance’s pointed ear. His fingers were delicate, touch light as if he was scared to damage the skin. The treatment made Lance’s heart flutter. Keith was so close that Lance could feel his body heat against his skin, and it made his chest pound. A nail brushed the soft skin behind his ear and Lance flinched. It was the smallest touch but it sent sparks racing through Lance until all he could feel was the spot behind his ear. Keith noticed the movement and shuffled back muttering a ‘sorry’. All Lance wanted to do was grab him by the collar and reel him back in.

The final piece clicked into place and Lance clicked back to reality. This wasn’t his earring. Oh God. He was wearing somebody else’s earring. It was probably covered in who knows what from sitting on the floor for years getting squashed under shoes and smothered by food. He had to fight a retch, thinking of all the germs he’d just surrendered himself to. Keith was being so sweet and so delicate, treating Lance like he was the only person who mattered in the world. And Lance desperately wanted to throw up.

He held it back, faking a smile. But when he saw Keith again, he forgot it all. The prince was leaning back on his heels, fond smile against his cheeks. It was one of those rare smiles, Lance had witnessed too few of. The one that softened his eyes, smoothed his edges and made his cheeks round. Lance was overtaken with the urge to kiss those little apples. It was so strong he thought he might cry.

“Lance?”

A hand touched Lance’s thigh and he nearly combusted. Keith was worried now, one ear drooped to the side, other high in alarm. His thumb turned a circle and Lance lost it.

“I know it was you!” He burst out, heat exploding across his face.

Keith blinked, movement freezing.

“I-, what?”

“The other week. I know it was you protecting my troop. With the arrows.”

Slowly, realisation crossed Keith’s face. Then he was hiding it, hand squeezing Lance’s leg. Lance wanted to squeeze him back.

“I wanted to thank you.” Lance continued, ducking his head to meet Keith’s eyes. “I don’t know many princes who would risk their life for their own troops, let alone somebody else’s.”

It was true. So many royals only wanted to protect themselves. But Keith didn’t. It was what attracted Lance to him in the first place. He never once put himself above his people. He was always prepared to fight for them. His loyalty made Lance’s chest ache.

“Well,” Keith said, looking up. The sweet curve was back and it made Lance’s stomach go all fizzy. “I don’t know many princes who would fight alongside theirs.”

Lance blushed despite himself. Keith was just so close, and the table surrounding them made the moment feel so much more intense. Intimate. Like they were the only two people left in existence. Keith slid his hand against Lance’s thigh, creeping forward and his other hand fell onto Lance’s. Lance’s eyes flew to them. Was that on purpose? His fingers were touching Lance’s. Were they supposed to be? Was it an accident? Platonic touches? Or was it that romantic handholding Lance had been dreaming about? He wiggled his fingers, testing whether Keith realised they were there. He didn’t pull away. Instead he weaved his own between them and Lance’s brain went into overload.

Keith leaned even closer, close enough for Lance to notice that his eyelashes weren’t black. They were a deep navy colour. And long, thicker than his own, fluttering against his cheeks like butterfly wings.

“It was an amazing fight.”

God, his voice was so silky. Lance couldn’t help being drawn into it, licking his lips.

“Yeah?” He managed, and his voice cracked on the words.

Keith’s lip quirked at the sound. “It was. I liked seeing you fight. Effortless, but undeniably determined. Your eyes were so intense I thought you wouldn’t need your sword.”

Lance opened his mouth, but no words came out.

“I like your eyes.” Keith said, gaze flickering over his features. His tongue smoothed against his lips and Lance followed the movement. “I find them interesting. How they’re usually pooling with life but can change instantly. And then they’re blazing hot anger and raw valiance.”

Lance swallowed thickly.

“What about now?” He asked, voice a foreign deepness. “What are they showing you right now?”

“Something I’d always wanted to see.”

Then he was diving forward, crossing the short distance to Lance’s mouth. His lips captured Lance in passion and Lance grabbed his neck to pull them flush together. Deepening the kiss, he could barely breathe as Keith enveloped him. He smelled of leaves and the orchard and the tiny flowers he liked to stroke. His skin was soft against Lance’s fingers, and his hair rough in his palm. He kissed the way he did everything – intensely. He poured himself into it and Lance could only return with equal vigour, melting into his touch.

When they finally pulled back, they didn’t get very far. Keith’s hair was a mess. His collar was crumpled, exposing his neck and Lance couldn’t help himself. Before he could see anymore, he was diving into the space. Kissing up the skin, he found it hot and salty. He nipped against the spot just below Keith’s jaw and the other let out a surprised moan. Lance decided it was his favourite sound. He licked the mark and Keith slumped against him. A hand curled into Lance’s hair, nails scratching against his scalp and Lance hummed in appreciation. He continued his journey, kissing further up Keith’s jaw, all the way up to his ear and finally he managed to peck that damn cheek. It was like peach fuzz, warm against his lips. Lance let a little sound of appreciation before finally pulling back to see his handiwork.

Keith’s eyes were heavily lidded, face flooded with red. His mouth was parted, and his breaths panted across his swollen lips. Lance wanted to kiss them again. But he stopped himself. Planting his hands firmly against his knees where they wouldn’t misbehave, he spoke.

“I, uh…”

Lance didn’t know what to say. Were they a thing now? Or just a fling? Lance really didn’t want it to be just a fling. He liked Keith far too much. And he was struggling to just keep his hands to himself right then. But he didn’t know how to say that and didn’t want to embarrass himself any further. Looking at the floor, he wondered if he should just run away now. That would solve one problem. But he didn’t get the chance when a warm hand cupped his cheek.

Keith looked at him with complete adoration. It was such an intense fondness that Lance felt his bones turn liquid. With that memory alone, he could just become a puddle on the floor. His voice matched the softness and Lance’s chest ached.

“I know Hunk’s waiting-”

Dammit Hunk. He was going to have an absolute field day when Lance got back.

“-but maybe we could go walk around the city some time. It’s beautiful at night.”

Lance blinked. Then he blinked some more, but Keith’s sincerity didn’t disappear. His ears were even tilted downward, like he was nervous. It was beyond cute. Lance couldn’t help it. He threw his arms around the other’s neck, sending Keith wobbling backwards.

“Yes. I’d love that! Yes!”

Lance felt more than heard the resulting laughter rumbling from Keith’s chest. He couldn’t help but reflect it, the warmth spreading through his entire body like a spa. He had a date. With Keith. The though made him want to burst.

#klance au month #galtean klance #galtean au #klance #klance fic #galra keith #altean lance #prince lance #prince keith #klance royal au #my post #my writing

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calliopesquill · 7 years ago

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A Year in the Life: Chapter 5

Guess what! I decided to post before midnight tonight lol

You all are seriously amazing, you know that? The responses I have been getting for these last chapters have been incredible and I can't thank you enough.

Special thanks to all of you who left me such wonderful comments. It really makes my day every time I get one and there are a few these last couple weeks that almost made me cry. So really, thank you.

With that said, on to chapter 5!

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Chapter 5: La Familia Rivera

Nell needed to start setting alarms when she worked. She’d gotten so buried in her novel planning and concept sketches that it was three in the afternoon before she finally surfaced, and that only happened because her stomach had let out a growl loud enough to wake the dead. She pushed herself away from the table with a groan, letting out a muttered curse as she stretched, her back protesting at the hunched position she’d been in for the last three hours. It was definitely time for a break.

She shuffled across the kitchen to her fridge, only to find it almost totally empty. Right… I was supposed to go grocery shopping this morning.

She sighed, shutting the fridge again. Better to do that now, and maybe grab an early supper on the way. She was too hungry to cook. But first she should probably get dressed. Her style may be casual, but it definitely wasn’t “leave the house in pajamas” casual. Nell traded her pajamas for a pair of comfortable flower-printed shorts and a white tee shirt, twisting her hair up in a messy bun as she stepped into her pink ballet flats. After a quick double-check that both her keys and wallet were still in her purse, she was out the door.

As she walked, she went over what she’d come up with for her new novel so far. It would be narrated by the guitar itself, a twist that she would not be revealing until near the end. She didn’t have much for her protagonist yet, but was toying with the idea of him stealing the guitar for himself at first, so the story could be something of a redemption arc for him as well. There would be no familial connection between the hero and the guitar’s original owner, however. She wanted to tell her own story, not just re-tell something that had already happened.

She was contemplating the design of her main character when she was nearly knocked off her feet by a small, bony form. The dog continued on past her to dance around the feet of an old woman in a blue button-down dress.

“ ¡Oye! ” The woman protested, shifting the grocery bags she carried to one arm so she could shoo the dog away. “ ¡Abajo! Abajo, perro tonto. ¡No saltar! ”

The dog, completely ignoring her commands to get down, jumped at her again, knocking her bags from her hands in its attempts to smother her with affection. It only backed away when it saw her reaching for the sandal on her foot, electing instead to plop down next to her and begin chewing on its own leg.

Muttering to herself, the woman began to pick up her spilled groceries, letting out a muttered oath when she saw the strap on one of the bags had snapped. She looked up when she saw a second set of hands gathering up the spilled fruit and reached for her sandal again, prepared to fight off any tonto stupid enough to try to steal from her. But instead of running off they pulled a folded-up cloth bag from inside their purse and began putting the spilled food inside to make it easier to carry.

Nell stood, brushing off the road dust, and offered the woman a hand to help her up. “ ¿Estás bien? ” She asked, picking up the bag of groceries she’d helped pick up.

“ Si, gracias ,” the woman answered, then shot a fond but vaguely frustrated look towards the dog that still sat at their feet. “No thanks to you, silly dog.”

“Is he yours?”

“He thinks he is,” the woman shrugged. “He comes to the house sometimes, looking for food. He is very fond of my grandson.” Now that she could actually get a good look at the person who had helped her, she recognized the young woman who often sat in the plaza. “You are one of Coro’s tenants, si? The artist.”

“My name’s Nell,” she said with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Did you want some help getting these back home?”

“Ah, I will be fine,” the woman said, waving her off. “As long as someone --” Here she shot another look at the dog, who gave her a harmless doggy smile. “--does not jump on me again.”

“Aw, you won’t jump again, will you?” Nell asked the dog, giving him a scratch behind the ears. The dog gave a small huff, leaning into her hand as his skinny tail beat a tattoo against the ground. “Cuz you are a good boy.”

The dog barked the affirmative.

“You are a nice girl,” the woman decided. “My grandson, he says very good things about you.”

“Your grandson?”

“ Si. My Miguelito. He talks to you sometimes when you draw at the plaza.”

“Oh, you’re Miguel’s abuelita !” Now it all made sense. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. And that must mean that this handsome boy here is Dante.”

Elena snorted. ‘Handsome’ was not exactly the word that she would have chosen. What he was was dumb as a bag of rocks, but he was sweet-natured and very dedicated to her grandson, and the rest of the family by extension, so she’d developed a soft spot for the silly thing. “You are very good with dogs,” she noted, seeing Dante roll over so Nell could scratch his belly.

“I always wanted one growing up,” Nell confessed as she gave in to his desire for pets. “But my dad was allergic to the hair. Couldn’t handle cats either, so I never had a chance to have a pet growing up. And then after I moved out on my own I couldn’t really afford one so… “ She shrugged.

“This one seems to like you,” Elena said with a small nod. “He is very foolish, but he knows good people. You will come for dinner.”

“Thank you. I -- wait, what? Oh, no, you don’t have to. That’s very generous but --”

But Elena overrode her protests. “Nonsense. You will come tonight and meet the family.”

“I --- okay.” What else could she say? “Is there anything you’d like me to bring? I could make dessert.”

“No, no. I have all that I need. You will come tonight for six and we will have a nice dinner.”

“Ah… Okay. Thank you.”

Despite protests, Nell insisted on escorting her home anyway, telling her to keep the cloth bag that the extra groceries had been carried in as Elena’s other one was broken. The moment the door had closed Nell dashed off down the street to the grocery store.

She ended up making chocolate chip cookies, though she’d had to borrow a pair of baking trays and a serving platter from Tia Caro. She had been told not to bring anything but she had been strictly mother-trained not to arrive empty-handed when it came to dinner invitations. As the cookies cooled, Nell traded her shorts and tee-shirt for a casual emerald green maxi dress topped with a candy pink knit bolero sweater. Mindful that she was visiting a family of shoemakers, she paired her outfit with a pretty pair of black and gold strappy sandals. Her hair she tied back in a low, looped ponytail that would keep the curls out of her face, but would not give her a headache as the night went on.

She walked carefully towards the Rivera home, praying that she wouldn’t trip and spill all of the cookies before she got there. It might have been early October but to Nell it still felt like mid-summer. The leaves would have just started to change color back home and the neighborhood kids would all be in a tizzy picking their Halloween costumes. She smiled fondly at the thought. Halloween had always been her favorite holiday, though more for the costumes and the candy than the spook-factor. Funny enough, Nell could not handle horror movies or haunted houses at all. Her friends had tricked her into watching A Haunting in Connecticut one night and she barely slept for a week.

She’d be missing Halloween this year, but would be trading it out for her first experience with Dia de los Muertos. Already people had begun decorating, draping colorful cut-paper banners between the buildings. There were areas of Santa Cecilia where the little flags were always present, but there were always more come fall. It was a little early for people to be putting out the elaborate calaveras figures that were also used to decorate, but Nell did spot one or two between her place and the Rivera’s.

Thankfully she made it to the house without incident and knocked on the front door at promptly five minutes to six.

The woman who answered the door was just shorter than she was, dressed in a cheerful yellow blouse and a bright pink skirt. Her hair was dark and straight, tied back in a low, loose braid. She had a youthful face, with smile lines just appearing around her eyes -- some of which, Nell guessed, could be attributed to the toddler at her hip.

She smiled when she saw her. “Ah, you must be Nell. Mama told us you would be joining us for dinner. Please, come in.” She nudged the door open with her foot, stepping back so Nell could follow her into the courtyard.

“ Gracias, Señora Rivera. ”

“Please, call me Luisa,” the woman insisted, resettling her daughter on her hip as she closed the gate. “And this one here is my youngest, Soccoro. Miguel has told us so much about you. He says you are an artist.”

Nell nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

“Miguel really likes your books. He wanted to bring them home from the library so he could show his prima Rosa but they did not have them, so he has been showing her on the computer during their lunch hour. She really likes your heroine.”

“I’m glad they’re enjoying it so far,” Nell smiled. “I had a lot of fun writing it.”

“It shows. Ah, but you must be tired of carrying that tray. Come, I will show you to the kitchen. Mama should be just about done with dinner.”

“She told me not to bring anything but I wanted to contribute somehow,” Nell admitted, following Luisa through the courtyard. “I’m better with desserts than actual meals, so I figured chocolate chip cookies would be a good option.”

Luisa chuckled. “We will have to hide those from Miguel until after dinner. And this one too,” she added as little Soccoro reached for the tray.

No sooner had she said that than Miguel burst from his room, still dressed in the white button-down shirt and navy pants of his school uniform. “Mama I’m done my -- hey! Nell! What are you doing here?”

“ Ay! Manners mijo. Your abuelita met your friend this afternoon and invited her over for dinner.”

Miguel cocked his head curiously. “How did you meet abuelita?

“A certain affectionate xolo decided that the best time to give her kisses was when she was carrying groceries,” Nell told him. “I just happened to be nearby and helped her pick them up.”

He laughed. “Dante is still working on his timing. Are those cookies for us?”

“After dinner, mijo ,” Luisa told him. “Your abuelita should be almost ready, so why don’t you get out of your school clothes and you can help set the table.”

“Okay Mama.”

Abuelita Elena was the undisputed head of the Rivera family. She was a life-long shoemaker but it was in the kitchen where she truly reigned supreme. Everything was timed to the minute on an internal clock born of practice and instinct. Nell, who could not put a perfectly-timed meal on the table if her life depended on it, wanted to applaud. Elena seemed to know everything that was going on in her kitchen at all times and even though her back was turned, she was instantly aware of other people entering her domain.

“Ah, Luisa! You are just in time,” she said, not even turning around as she plated up a tray of ribs in a spicy-smelling sauce. “And you have brought Penelope with you. Good. I like it when people are on time.”

“I’m obsessively prompt,” Nell smiled. “And please, call me Nell. I brought some dessert for later. Is there somewhere I can put it where little cookie-monsters won’t be able to help themselves before dinner?”

Elena gave a short snort of laughter. “Anyone in my house knows there will be no desserts until after their dinner. For now you can put them on top of the fridge.”

Not for the first time Nell was grateful for her height, as she barely had to stand on tiptoe to set the tray atop the fridge. As with many homes it was a local showcase of family achievements; well-graded assignments and art projects from the varying Rivera cousins covered the door, fixed with colorful magnets. As she turned away she could see Elena glancing at her sandals out of the corner of her eye.

“Your shoes. They are pretty, but they were not made for you. They are too flat. You move like a dancer, but in those things you walk like a duck.”

Nell let out a snort of laughter. “I was a dancer, from about the age of four. Quit after I finished university because I moved out and couldn’t pay for lessons anymore. Took three years as an adult to train myself out of that turn-out so I could walk with my feet parallel again.” She still caught herself standing in ballet-third when she wasn’t paying attention. “I have a hard time finding sandals a lot of the time because most of them come in four styles: cute but flat as cardboard so zero arch-support at all, cute but with massive heels and can only be worn for like an hour before you want to die, cute but eat your feet and leave raw patches and blisters, and comfortable but really ugly. There is no place for ugly shoes in my wardrobe.”

Elena nodded in approval of the sentiment. There was no place in the world for ugly shoes at all in her opinion. Cheap shoes were an insult to her craft. No Rivera would be seen wearing cheap, poorly-constructed shoes, and if she had her way then no friend of the Riveras would either. “Come, you take that plate there and help me set the table and we will talk about shoes that you can wear for the rest of your life.”

“I -- okay.” What else could she do? She didn’t want to come out and say that custom-made shoes were not a luxury that she could afford right now. Most of what she had had gone into this trip, and though her book sales and commissions were keeping her afloat, they didn’t leave much room for luxuries. She took the plate and followed Elena into the chaos that is the dining room.

Seeing the number of people gathered, Nell stopped short and stared. When Elena invited her to dinner she didn’t think it would be with the whole family. It looked like half of Santa Cecilia had managed to fit itself around the table.

“Come, come. Put that plate down right here. Si, right next to the tamales. Manny, Benny, stop teasing your prima Rosa and come sit down. Abel, you shuffle down and make room for our guest. Todos, esto es Penelope. Penelope, mi familia.”

“Ah...hi everyone.” Nell set the plate down and gave a shy wave. “Please, call me Nell.” Should she start wearing a sign? She really felt like she should start wearing a sign. Something simple like ‘ Please do not call me Penelope until I am over the age of 65. Thank you.’

A seat was left for her between Elena and a woman who introduced herself as Miguel’s Tia Gloria. She then introduced Nell to her twin boys, Benny and Manny, who were a couple of years into elementary school. They weren’t particularly interested in introductions, and were much more focused in which of them could stuff the most food in their mouth at one time.

Miguel’s father Enrique, a tall man with a dark moustache, passed a platter of food to his wife before turning to Nell. “So, Miguel says you’re an artist.”

The question was offered casually but Nell had the distinct impression that what she was being asked was actually something very different. “Yes, sir. I write graphic novels -- comic books -- but I take other commissions as well. I’m setting my next series in a place similar to Santa Cecilia so I’m living here for a few months as I work on it because I want to get an authentic feel for the culture and the lifestyle and the architecture. I spend a lot of time doing reference sketches in Mariachi Plaza. It’s got really great atmosphere and that’s something I really wanted to capture. Then that one over there --” She nodded at Miguel. “--got curious one day and decided he wanted to know who the weird turista was who kept writing everything down in a giant notebook.”

“You should see her sketchbook. It’s really good,” Miguel told them. “She was drawing the bell tower yesterday and it was just with pencils and it was perfect! It looked like one of those old-timey pictures.”

“We read your comic at lunch sometimes,” added Rosa, who sat a few seats down from her cousin. “We just got to the part where Polaris and Astra start working together.”

“Have you gotten to the mirror incident yet?” Nell asked.

Rosa shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Let me know when you get there. That was one of my favourite chapters in the whole series.”

The conversation flowed freely throughout dinner, catching up with the goings-on at school. Abel was taking some online CAD courses for the business, and there was some discussion between the other family members on designs and techniques that they were experimenting with. Miguel mentioned briefly how he’d started reading Dante’s Inferno , which had the entire family in stitches when Benny and Manny asked how the little doggy wrote a book. Nell also got a more in-depth history of the business itself.

“I think it’s really admirable what Imelda did,” Nell said honestly. “Running a business is really difficult, and at the time, being a female entrepreneur would have been that much more challenging. Never mind being a single parent on top of that. So that she created such a successful business that has stayed in the family for so long is really incredible. Add the complication of foreign investment and multinational companies with giant factories, it must be challenging sometimes to stay competitive.”

“ Si , it is sometimes,” Miguel’s father answered with a shrug. “Much of our business is local. Most people here, they would rather be able to see and feel the thing that they are buying, so that is a benefit to us.”

“We did get that magazine placement a couple of years ago,” Gloria added. “That telenovela star. What was her name? She mentioned us in an interview and wore a pair of our boots for a photo shoot.”

“There is always a market for quality custom work,” Elena nodded. “Work that lasts. That is a legacy worth protecting. Would you like some more tamales?”

Nell leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “No, gracias. They are delicious but I am stuffed.”

“No, no, there is plenty of room left. You are so skinny! Have another.”

“You know, I think I’ve heard that from everyone at Tia Caro’s building,” Nell laughed as she accepted one more tamale. “I think she might have decided to adopt me. Ten bucks says she must be half-way through the paperwork by now.”

Elena gave a nod of approval. “Caro is a good woman. She takes care of her familia. ” It didn’t matter if they were related by blood or simply lived in her building. All were considered family. And that, to Elena was the most important thing.

How anyone at that table had any room for cookies after that meal, Nell had no idea. But somehow they did, and managed to empty the tray in record time.

“Have you figured out the plot yet for your new comic?” Miguel asked as he and Rosa started clearing up the dishes.

“Part of it,” Nell answered. “I was working on some of the background and lore this morning. The story is going to center around a cursed guitar.”

Miguel paused, setting down the plates that he had been stacking, memories of her inquiries about is own guitar immediately springing to mind. “How did it get cursed?”

She hesitated for a moment. As much as she really wanted to be able to use this idea for her books, she worried it might hit a little too close for Miguel. She would leave it for him to decide if he was comfortable with her continuing, or if he wanted her to write something different. So she gave a cursory explanation of the concept of the tsukumogami and how the guitar had developed a spirit of its own. “And what the guitar wants is to finally see justice done for its murdered owner, and to be played again by someone who is worthy.”

“Cool!” Rosa declared. “Who killed him?”

“No spoilers,” Nell grinned at her. “But if you guys want I can show you some of the concept art I’ve got later.”

Miguel hesitated, not entirely sure how he felt about the idea. On the one hand, it was a little weird knowing that part of his family’s history, even a small part, was going to be used in a book. But if there was anyone that he trusted to do it respectfully, it was Nell. He’d caught the look she gave him when she explained her idea and knew that she would not proceed with it without his go-ahead. And aside from that… a graphic novel series about a sentient guitar would be really, really cool.

He flashed a crooked, one-dimpled smile and nodded. “Can’t wait!”

When Miguel met with Nell that night, he knew that he was right to trust her. What she had planned did briefly allude to the history of Hector and Ernesto, but not in any way that would be recognizable to anyone but him.

In her story, the guitar was a family heirloom. The father was a brilliant musician with a poet’s heart. He and his wife had two sons. The eldest son was bold and adventurous and loved music too, though more for the attention that his talent brought him than for the music itself. The younger brother was just like his father, who loved the music for its own sake. And when the father died, it was the younger son that he gave the guitar to. But the older brother was a jealous sort, always seeing himself as second place, even though he was the oldest. He was determined to be liked, and cultivated a fine and charming manner in order to endear himself to those around him, but he could never match the simple sincerity of his younger brother. They were both talented, but when they performed together it was easy to see whose heart was really in the music. They travelled together, performed together, and all that time the older brother’s jealousy festered within him. Until one night, after a particularly bad fight and a few too many drinks, he smothered his brother in his sleep.

The death was mourned as a tragedy, a sudden failure of the heart in a time where forensic evidence and investigation barely existed. Nobody even considered the possibility of murder.

The older brother inherited the guitar by default, and did become a fairly well renowned musician on his own. He would never admit that the guitar that had become his trademark never sang as beautifully for him as it did for his father and brother. He performed until his death in 1931, when an earthquake caused the roof of the theater he was rehearsing in to collapse on top of him, burying him alive.

The guitar was salvaged from the wreckage without a scratch on it and was held in private collections until the mid-1990’s, when it was installed as part of a music history exhibit in a local museum. Stories say that sometimes, late at night, you can still hear the sad melody it plays, mourning its lost musico.

“You gotta write that,” Miguel insisted after hearing what she’d planned. “What happens next? Is that it?”

Nell laughed. “Nah, that’s more of the backstory that sets up the main plot. The main character is a paranormal investigator who heard the stories of the ghostly music, so he breaks into the museum at night. Next thing he knows he’s seeing ghosts everywhere, and the guitar quite literally seems to have a mind of its own and won’t leave him be.”

Miguel snickered. This was going to be fun.

“For real, though. You’re okay with me writing this? If you’re not comfortable with it, you’ve got to tell me. There’s no time-limit so I have all the time in the world to think up something else.”

He shook his head. “No, I like it. It’s different. And I like the guitar being the narrator. That’s kinda cool.”

Nell sighed with relief. “Okay. Okay. Cool. But like, if you ever change your mind, let me know.”

“I will,” Miguel promised.

They walked for a while longer, taking in the quiet, their path taking them past the painted gate of the Rivera house. Dante trotted companionably at their side. They’d discovered when they met up that night that the little xolo could indeed see them when they were projecting, and after spending several minutes jumping all over them, he designated himself their official companion for the evening.

“So what did you and abuelita talk about when you were touring the shop?”

“Ah, not much. Got a little more on the history of the business. Some of the process. Your abuelita is really determined to get me into a decent pair of shoes.” Nell chuckled.

Miguel snickered. “Fifty pesos says you’re in a pair if Rivera shoes by Christmas.”

“You’re on. And I’ll put my winnings towards buying my pretty new Rivera shoes after New Years.”

“Hey!” He laughed. “That’s cheating.”

“You set the rules, not me.” She reminded him. For a moment she was silent, then she spoke again. “Your abuelita is really proud of you, you know. Your whole family is. You can see it in their faces when they hear you play. I’m glad I got to meet them tonight.”

“They really like you,” Miguel told her. “And Tia Gloria really wants your cookie recipe. Benny and Manny would have eaten all of them if they could have.”

Nell laughed. “I’m glad I passed inspection. They were definitely a little concerned about me at first, not that I blame them.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s one thing for their fourteen year old to have adult friends among the local musicians, but it’s a little different when he’s suddenly friends with a random tourist eleven years his senior.”

She had a point. And it wasn’t like either of them could explain the particular circumstances behind them becoming friends to begin with, not without earning themselves a happy little trip to the hospital in the city for a psych evaluation.

What Nell didn’t tell him was how worried his family had been for him over the past few months. They’d known he wasn’t sleeping well, but as he refused to tell them what was going on there was nothing they could do. He’d been doing so much better since summer ended. He no longer came to the breakfast table with tired eyes, dragging his feet -- or at least, no more than any other young teenager. A question had been left unspoken of whether he had told Nell about what had been bothering him, to which she’d had to claim complete ignorance.

“Side note: I don’t know how the hell you survived that music ban,” Nell confessed, shaking her head. “I’d have completely lost my mind.” Music had always in some way been on the periphery of her life. She couldn’t imagine being cut off from it.

“I felt like I was some days,” he laughed. “And I was raised into it. Mama had to give it up when she married Papa and I don’t know how she did it.”

“People will do a lot for love. If it meant being with your Dad, it was probably a sacrifice she was willing to make.”

Miguel nodded. He’d almost made the same one before Hector and Mama Imelda had sent him back. To be able to return home and have a chance to save Hector, he’d have given up music without a moment’s regret. “Could you do it?”

“Give up music for someone?” Nell asked. “Don’t know. There’s never been someone that mattered enough that I would consider it. If it was the right person, I think I could. But then if it was the right person, I wouldn’t have to.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And there ends chapter 5! We met the Riveras, Nell finally got her plot sorted out, and we got to see Dante!

Next chapter will be the start of Dia de los Muertos, so buckle up buttercups because it's going to be a wild ride.

#coco #pixar coco #coco fanfiction #coco 2017 #miguel rivera #a year in the life

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