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redfurrycat · 2 years ago

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🧛🤠🦊🐓🧚‍♂️Mythological Creatures & Shapeshifters Fic Recs🧚‍♂️🐓🐺🤠🧛

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: AnadoraBlack, Anonymous, Arcticmonks, Bahjrc, Barnes_Brain, Caitlin44, Dalearden, Dreamsoflovingness, Drhorrible, Earthangel_44, Elizabethgee, Fuddlewuddle, Halestrom, Hangmanbradshaw, LadyLanera, MadeItUp, McDanno50, Nixie_DeAngel, Ofguttersandstars, Playingwiththeboysisagayanthem, ReformedTsundere, Shadowdancing, SunMonTue, ToukoJalorda003, WaffleToaster, Winterbucky, Youlookgood.

> Ghoost & Ethereal Beings

A Shift in Feelings by Fuddlewuddle {T}

/Bobcat-shifter/

Bradley Bradshaw has a secret that only one person alive--Mav--knows about. He's a shifter and can transform into a Bobcat. When they all return alive from the mission, and Bradley shifts for the first time in years, he's realises that there's one other person he wants to know his secret. Here's hoping Jake Seresin won't live up to his call sign and leave Bradley hanging out to dry when he finds out Bradley is the big cat that's spread out on top of him whilst he's slept, or when Bradley tells him his cat views Jake as his Mate.

meet me in the woods tonight by Caitlin44 {E}

/Werewolf/

What followed was probably the most emotionally draining hour of Bradley's life since his mother's death. But in the end, the air was cleared between them, and he'd ended up curled into Mav's side, all parts of him once again connected to his surrogate father and his Pack, the connection between them all restored and open wide. He had laid there in almost wonder, exploring the connections he hadn't felt in over ten years, feeling the different links that led to the people he loved, that now formed a pack more extensive than the one he'd left.

Welcome to the Family by LadyLanera {T}

/Vampire/

Bradley has the rest of his life to figure out when he's ready to die as a human and be reborn as a vampire. When tragedy strikes, though, he realizes that maybe he doesn't have that long after all.

(these moments given) a gift from time by dalearden {_}

/Winged/

He never could have imagined Hangman being willing to groom anyone, much less him, but it turns out Hangman has hidden depths.

With Teeth and Claws (Love Drags me Deep) by ToukoJalorda003 {M}

/Modified Form/

Rooster hadn’t exactly asked for Hangman to keep bugging him about his Modified form. He really hadn’t. …He actively avoided it, if he was honest. But now that wasn’t an option, and he was facing the consequences. On the bright side, Hangman seemed just as surprised as he had been - since he had never seen Hangman’s form, either.

a spoonful of sugar (helps the medicine go down) by bahjrc {G}

/Cat-shifter/

Bradley Bradshaw is a tired college student coming home for summer break. All he wants to do is come home, catch up on sleep, help his family's business and maybe figure out what the hell he's going to do with his life. He's not expecting a mysterious man and his weird cat that just moved into the apartment down the street to become a thing in his life. And he's definitely not expecting that golden cat to be such a pain on his ass.

baby, I'm howlin' for you by hangmanbradshaw {E}

/Wolf & Fox/

His smirk widened. He may not have been happy about this, but he could appreciate that Bradley gave as good as he got. “I am good, Rooster. I’m very good.” Bradley stared at him, expression battling between annoyance and what appeared to be a slight amount of amusement and intrigue. Jake continued, “Say, how does a werewolf get the nickname Rooster anyhow?” Bradley raised an eyebrow. “That’s none of your business.”

The Prince and His Knight by McDanno50

/Lycan/

On A Dreary Night {E}

Jake felt his heart thump quicker, galloping in his chest, as the clicking of claws grew closer. Heavy breaths not his own let Jake know he was no longer alone. He remained still even as natural fear urged him to look over his shoulder to gauge the threat. But there was no real danger because Jake knew in his soul that he was safe with the monstrous wolf-like creature that lurked in the flickering shadows. The beast who terrified the men, women, and children not born of Miramar was hardly a monster to Jake. The bright light of day sees the Crown Prince of Miramar, Jacob Seresin, protected by his personal knight: a Lycan named Rooster. But at night, Jake loses himself to pleasure by Rooster's wolf form.

A Speckled Rooster Crowed {G}

Lycans had few offspring, litters born every ten years. The last Lycan pups included Julian’s own knight, Cyclone. And now it was Jake’s turn to choose a knight – his very own Lycan pup to raise and train as his personal bodyguard. He’d never known something so exciting yet terrifying. The time has come for Prince Jake to select his knight. Five pups vie for his attention, but one young Lycan seems a bit preoccupied with a fowl enemy.

Of Sex and Flowers {E}

If Heaven truly existed, Jake was sure his would be exactly like this. With Jake and his knight Rooster, alive and together in this peaceful place. Nothing outside of the meadow mattered when they were here: Jake was not royalty and Rooster was not a Lycan. They could play pretend and just be two men hopelessly in love with no duties and no secrets. Jake sneaks out of the castle to spend some private time with Rooster in a meadow. Their relationship will change once Jake becomes the Crown Prince so they say goodbye in the only way they know how.

the shapes of love by winterbucky {T}

/Shapeshifter/

sink your teeth into me (keep me)

Rooster doesn't need to know what animal Hangman shifts into, but he sure wants to find out. It's just another piece of the man he's hopelessly in love with, and he wants to know everything, no matter how much his friends tease him. Through a series of events, he finally finds out, and maybe gets more than expected Or shifter au where rooster is a wolf, hangman is [redacted], there's a LOT of pining, and icemav are cute together (ice is a tiger, mav is a fennec). they get their happy end

I see forever in your eyes

Having gotten together (and engaged in the same day), Rooster and Hangman don't get any less annoying with their behaviour. Rooster would even argue that their friends are more annoyed with them now, but he's too deliriously happy to care. He has the love of his life by his side, his friends surrounding him, and he's getting married. Life is great (and it's about to get even better) Or shifter au with smitten puppy rooster, disgustingly in love hangster, some background icemav and ANOTHER proposal

Lagoon by elizabethgee {E}

/Merman/

So it turns out that even though Bradley spends most of his time on land as a human, he is a shifter, and he he can shift into a merman. Jake has a lot of thoughts about it. And he's come up with a plan.

Lost Boy by Earthangel_44 {E}

/Pixie/

Jake has to face the consequences after he stole from the pirate.

When the Waters Run Deep (Trust Them not to Pull You Under) by ToukoJalorda003 {M}

/Siren/

In all of Jake’s life, all he had ever wanted was to be a marine biologist. He adored the ocean and it’s inhabitants more than anything else. He thought he had everything he’d ever wanted. Until his boss sent him on a mission that he’d almost died on - forcing him to realign his perspective, and realize perhaps there was something else he wanted, after all.

Darkest Little Paradise by hangmanbradshaw {E}

/Demon/

Bradley never thought he'd be dealing with another round of hospital visits, especially not for the only family he had left. When he stumbles upon a book at his rare books store, he finds himself at a crossroads there may be no turning back from, but hey...don't blame him, love made him crazy. Or, Bradley *take my hand, wreck my plans, that's my man* Bradshaw needs to save Mav so he decides to make a deal. Enter Jake. Everything changes in ways he never could have imagined.

Up in the skies by AnadoraBlack {M}

/Dragon/

Bradley hasn't been on Tarakona in more than ten years. It's time he goes home. Besides, at 30 years old, there's next to no chance a dragon egg would hatch for him, right?

My Better Half by WaffleToaster {E}

/Cambion/

“You don’t know what you want, Bradshaw. You don’t want me, you may think you do, but you don’t.” When Bradley finds out about Jake's deepest and darkest secret, he begins to understand the meaning behind those words. He just never imagined it was going to take magic, pheromones, a life or death situation and sex for him to win Jake back.

What is Past is Prologue. by Barnes_Brain {T}

/Vampire/

Everyone in life has secrets. The man at the bar, the woman serving drinks, the vampire who’s currently the COMPACFLT and the legendary pilot who is the same are not exempt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin, however, might have the biggest of them all. So when his secret is revealed, so many others follow. This of course, leads to complete chaos for the poor steward trying to do his best.

young savage things by drh0rrible {E}

/Vampire/

After a year working as Jake Seresin's PA, there were three things Bradley was absolutely positive about. First, Bradley was a vampire. Second, there was a part of him-and he didn't know how potent that part might be-that thirsted for Jake's blood. And third, Bradley was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.

pumpkins and whiskers by youlookgood {T}

/Cat-shifter/

Needing a fresh start, Bradley moves from his old childhood home in San Diego to a far away small town. It's nice enough, he supposes. The residents certainly have that small-town autumn charm going for them. His new next-door neighbor's pretty nice too. What's less than nice is said neighbor's roommate, and his equally annoying orange cat.

Stuffin' That Muffin by WaffleToaster {E}

/Tentacle Monster/

Jake thinks it could have been a dream, but his distended stomach makes it obvious that everything had in fact really happened. But now weeks had passed and the eggs had dissolved, making him feel depressed in a sense and empty. And so that makes him ask, “What does it take to convince you for round two?”

Demon Jake by MadeItUp {E}

/Demon/

Evil Be Gone

Training on the F/A-18 is everything he’s ever wanted, but Bradley’s dream becomes a nightmare when a new recruit joins the Golden Eagles. Blond hair, green eyes and a smirk so wicked he could rival the devil, Jake Seresin is everything Bradley hates – arrogant, brilliant and an unrelenting asshole. It’s almost as if he’s been sent there as Bradley’s own personal demon… All Bradley’s seen of the man so far is the back of his head – dirty blond hair cut short and sharp to the nape of his neck. At Nija’s invitation, Seresin turns to smile at the room, hand coming up in a lazy salute, his grin as sharp, as calculated, as the cut of his hair. His eyes are green, his dimples deep, and he’s far too pretty to be trusted.

Give 'em Hell

It's been ten years since Bradley woke in his bed, the demon he'd fallen asleep with gone without a trace. And now he's back. He’s aged some, same as Bradley – a curiosity for another time when Bradley’s able to think beyond how the years have only made the fucker more handsome, sharpening his jaw and adding smile lines in all the right places. “I’m not gonna fuck you,” Bradley says. “Heard that before, sweetheart.” A beat. “We both know you’ll be begging for it within the hour.” “Not this time.” A devilish smile, part pride, part promise. “Sure thing. Rooster.”

The Halloween Special by ReformedTsundere {E}

/Tentacle Monster/

"Bradley?" Jake calls out, getting a hand on the knob even as his heart rate spikes. The sound of sliding limbs and another hard thump make Jake's choice for him. Without further announcement, he throws open the bathroom door, only faintly sure he's prepared for what's behind. He is, of course, incorrect. Jake has a series of thoughts that tangle together, crashing like a group of cars in multiple head-on collisions as his brain and body try to make sense of what he's seeing. It's as though he blinks through the five stages of grief, standing deer-eyed and petrified in the open door of Bradley's bathroom.

tell me your secret (I promise I’ll keep it) by shadowdancing {E}

/Merman/

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has a secret. And Jake “Hangman” Seresin intends to figure out what it is. Well, actually Bradshaw has many secrets. But there is one secret above the rest. One that Rooster refuses to crack on. - Jake Seresin has known Bradley Bradshaw for over a decade. It's been a decade of rivalry, of push and pull, between the two. Everyone has secrets, including Jake himself. But he knows that there is something Bradshaw has been hiding from everyone. A big secret. This story follows two pilots, both coming from troubled pasts and heading towards a troubled future. With each revealed secret, their friendship, and their love only grows more.

Knot Your Typical Meet-Cute by ReformedTsundere {E}

/Werewolf/

There are no written laws saying that human Jake Seresin can't be a naval pilot, but that doesn't mean the social status of 'less durable meat bag' doesn't have its boot on his throat all the same. He's been a damn good serviceman so far, exceeded all his superior's expectations of him. But the simple fact of the matter is he doesn't have the connections to get him into the program or the genetics. Wolf-heavy and wolf-maintained, it's been nearly impossible to get his file on the desk of the fleet commanders who could streamline him to flight school. But if he does The Run, if he bags himself a wolf high enough on one food chain or another… it's his best shot.

Like Cats and Dogs by ReformedTsundere {T}

/Shapeshifter/

Where shifting is a sign of trust and love, indifferent Bradley realizes only when it's too late to stop his quick temper he might care more than he thought that Jake hasn't shifted in front of him even after dating for almost a year.

fight worth winning by winterbucky {M}

/Vampire/

In a world where your soulmate's last words are written on your body, they all try to find beauty in tragedy. Bradley, marked with his soulmate's stubbornness and desperation is already halfway in love with them, even without knowing them. It just so happens that a certain blonde pilot, as gorgeous as he is infuriating, captures his attention too. Laying dying on the ground, Bradley isn't ready to accept death. It's just lucky that his soulmate isn't either. or soulmate au: last words, but with no mcd. instead there's asshole in love, vampires, and stubborn jake. of course

I wanna know, baby, what is it like? I know you want it, baby, you can have it by arcticmonks {E}

/Vampire/

"It’s alright. Tomorrow, no onions. Drink lots of water to get it out of your bloodstream," Bradley says, casually, like he’s Jake’s doctor who’s worried about actual toxins instead of a vampire who wants his fuck buddy to smell just a little better. Jake’s head bobs. "Sure. Any other requests?" With a final hard suck, Bradley finishes off the bottle and sets it aside. "I’d like you to bite me."

Grant me freedom and I’ll set us both free by SunMonTue {E}

/Incubus & Demon/

One of Jake's past transgressions have damned him to 500 years of walking the Earth in human form, told he cannot feed off any of them directly. He has someone shadowing him to make sure he keeps to the rules.

I'll Be Your Guard Heart by Nixie_DeAngel {T}

/Shapeshifter/

Jake only loses control when it comes to Bradley Bradshaw and he was okay with that.

into the sky, with you by winterbucky {T}

/Dragon/

In a world where some people can slip into dragon forms, Rooster haven't shown his dragon form to anyone since he was 15. He keeps to himself, but it proves harder than he imagined when the Daggers become an established squad and start spending all their time together. They don't even know that Rooster is a dragon. Or do they? And can the connection he had with Hangman 10 years ago come back to life? Maybe everything has a happy ending, and it's not as bad as Bradley is imagining or dragons au where rooster has Issues™️, but through the power of friendship and a hot aviator it's all okay

it's golden like daylight by halestrom {G}

/Vampire/

Waking up in a warehouse after being hit across the head and hearing your dates dead parents talking is NOT Jake's idea of a good first date.

The Hanged Man by ofguttersandstars {M}

/Witch/

“Her twitchy witchy boy shrieks and giggles, his fingers barely brushing the soft green grass from where he hangs upside down. It breaks her heart like a thing made of glass. His little voice sings their curse like it’s still a nursery rhyme, lisping along — One for sorrow, Two for joy, Three for a girl, Four for a boy, Five for silver, Six for gold, Seven for a secret never to be told. Rhiannon Seresin knows the real words, has since she was a little girl: One for sorrow, Two for luck, Three for a wedding, Four for death; Five for silver, Six for gold; Seven for a secret never to be told; Eight for Heaven, Nine for Hell, And Ten for The Devil’s own sell.” — or, Jake Seresin is born a witch.

Jake Seresin: Monsterf̶u̶c̶k̶e̶r̶ Hunter by ReformedTsundere {E}

/Dragon/

When people think of 'Monster Hunter,' Jake knows what they're picturing.

Married off to the orc prince by Anonymous {E}

/Elf & Orc/

Tonight, Jake and Bradley would move on to the last step in the preparation process before Bradley would finally fuck him with his big, stupid orc cock.

Two Bodies Riddled With Scars From Our Preteens by dreamsoflovingness {_}

/Demon/

Sooner or later Bradley should’ve known that Jake wouldn’t listen to him. Hell, he had almost counted on it. It had been almost guaranteed. He just didn’t think it would end like this. With Jake missing going on a week.------Jake disobeys Bradley's orders and pays the price for it.

I Put A Spell On You by dalearden {T}

/Witch/

"Magic is helpful in getting through life at times but it’s not a cure-all, he’s still human and there are all sorts of nutty rules when it comes to witches who live with mortals that keep him from using it as often than people would think. Though he’d never cast a love spell even if there were such a thing. The concept repulses him, he’s glad it’s just a stupid myth mortals created. He does daydream, though, about what it would be like. If someone loved him. Having a person all of his own to come home to, every day." Witch Bradley lives in a small town, mostly happy but also lonely. When the library gets a new archivst blown in from Texas, it's not love at first sight but Jake's arrival does lead to something more than friends.

now as I breathe deep and prepare for my passing (I hear them chant "burn the witch") by playingwiththeboysisagayanthem {T}

/Witch/

"Deep in the far expanses of the Louisiana marshes, through the murky waters blanketed in thick duckweed, behind the heavy swathes of fibrous Spanish moss hanging from the tall and thick Cypress trees, nestled down in the Atchafalaya basin on a stormy summer night, a little boy was born. His momma cradled him in her arms, listening to his wet cries with a smile on her face, the space illuminated only by candlelight and the flashes of lightning just outside her door, her home safe and dry even as it rocked with the wind, the stilts beneath it holding strong and true. Her baby had come into the world carrying a great power, after all. At thirty years old, you may assume that Jake Seresin had a pretty good understanding of himself. And he thought he did. But trust Bradley Bradshaw to upend everything he ever thought he knew, no matter the circumstance." -------------- aka, Jake Seresin was born a voodoo witch in the wilds of the Louisiana Bayou. He's also apparently stupid and only just now realizing that he's head over heels in love with Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw.

Sometimes Size Can Be Misleading by Nixie_DeAngel {T}

/Dragon/

Bradley might regret not being able to be a dragon rider at times, but he did enjoy his ability to control one of the toughest, meanest, ruthless, dragons to inhabit his home on North Island.

when bae becomes fae by halestrom {M}

/Fae/

Somehow, against all reason, Mav has grown a Fairy Circle and all Bradley can think about is following in the footsteps of his parents and Ice to bring them back. There's only one thing stopping him, but that one thing might turn out to be all he needs in the end.

cat got your tongue? by halestrom {G}

/Cat-shifter/

His whole life Bradley has been told to keep this one thing secret to protect his family from finding out. But after the mission, alcohol leads to some confessions and he lets the secret out. Whoops?

#Mythological Creatures & Shapeshifters Recs List #hangster #sereshaw #hangaroo #bradley rooster bradshaw x jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈

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thevoicefromanotherworld · 1 month ago

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PANEM ET CIRCENSES (XIII)

I apologize for not updating this story in a while, that's because I've gone out on Christmas Eve and got so freaking tired that all I could do was sleep, but now here it is! Maximus and Diana are back on their feet ready to kick some ass and fix things in Rome

I hope you like it! Thanks for reading me and Happy New Year to y'all! 🖤

After Maximus finished off Darius, he headed back into the Emperor's residence with Diana.

The man was where they had left him, watching Caesar. Caesar looked up as soon as he saw them and quickly stood up from where he was sitting.

"General, Diana," he greeted politely, "I'm glad to see that you're both okay."

"Same here, friend," Maximus replied, placing his hand on her shoulder.

He looked down at Commodus, who gave him a look full of rage and hatred.

"You'll pay for this," he growled. "The gods will not allow you to see your wife and son in the afterlife." You don't deserve it," he spat, looking at him firmly.

"Unlike you, you deserve what is about to happen to you," the general retorted, pulling on the rope that held his hands so that he could stand up. "Now is the time for your judgment."

He dragged him forcefully so that he would follow him, while Caesar tried to stop him, but Maximus was stronger. He forced him to walk at his pace while uttering insults, each one more picturesque than the last.

"You can't do this!" he screamed. "Do you know who I am?" he threatened. "I am the emperor and I demand that you let me go, or you will suffer the consequences!"

-You were never emperor - Maximus stopped him, turning to him - you are nothing more than a frightened and unloved child who, driven by ambition and jealousy, killed his own father to take his place, the same one he wanted me to take - he confessed, fixing his blue eyes on him - do not you dare call yourself emperor again in my presence, or I will cut out your tongue

-You can not do this - he stammered, the trembling in his voice reflecting the fear he was feeling - my father would not approve - he added, as if that would dissuade the general from his intentions-

-If you really think that, it is because you did not know your father - he murmured - if Marcus Aurelius were still alive, I assure you that he would crucify you himself if he could -

-Is that what you will do with me? - he asked - Crucify me? –he added- if I am going to die, I want to do so as a Roman citizen, not as a common thief

-You are right – Maximus conceded – you are not a thief – he paused – you are a traitor, which is much worse

When they went outside the citizens of Rome greeted them with cheers and praise, shouting “Free Rome.”

They walked to the gravel road that led to the Colosseum, where a pair of wooden planks stood in the shape of a cross, flanked by the general's soldiers.

Without saying a word, Maximus gestured to Thracius, who, with the help of the other men, placed Commodus on the structure.

-You don't know what you're doing - he repeated while they nailed both his hands and feet to the wood between screams and cries of pain - you will regret this

-We will not do it - the general assured her, giving one last look to Commodus - goodbye, Caesar - he added before turning his back and walking back the way she had come-

Diana stood for a moment watching the one who was once emperor, before following Maximus, who was flanked by his men. They allowed her to pass to get to him, until she could stand beside him.

He sensed her presence and turned his head in her direction. He made a hint of a smile, a gesture that did not reach his eyes, before speaking.

-Rome is free - he announced - but the work is not yet finished - he said, looking at her firmly - now it is our duty to restore it to its former glory, making its citizens enjoy the freedom I promised them - he murmured - it is what Marcus Aurelius would have wanted

-I know - Diana answered, watching him closely - What will we do now? - she asked - How will we make Rome return to what it was, before the emperor corrupted it?

-We will be honest with the good people of Rome -said Maximus- we will speak frankly, no lies or skirmishes -he declared firmly- we will talk to them in the streets putting ourselves on their level, not like Caesar, who did it from the box of his ostentatious house -she nodded her head in agreement with what he said-

-You will have to take care of that then -she murmured without daring to look at him- I will take care of other matters that have nothing to do with politics

-I don't understand -he murmured, searching her eyes with his gaze- we both have liberated this city, and we both will govern it

-They will repudiate me, Maximus -she declared seriously, while slowly raising her head to look at him- a woman cannot be in charge of something like this, and much less someone… -she swallowed hard- someone like me

He held her by the shoulders firmly, making her look directly into his eyes. His blue gaze fell on hers, causing her not to move a muscle.

-I want you to listen to me carefully, because I'm only going to say this once - he began, Diana nodded - I don't care if they don't accept you. We're going to make Rome regain its former splendor, and we'll do it together - she paused during which she looked at him intensely - you're my… - she shook her head - I care about you a lot, Diana, and that terrifies me - he confessed - I want us to do this together, please -he added -

The fact that he begged her like that made her realize that he was serious. He wanted her to stay by his side and rule with him.

A ball of emotions that she didn't know how to say out loud slid down her throat, getting stuck in the pit of her stomach. She watched him for a moment and when she found the voice to speak again, she answered saying:

-I will do it, with one condition - she explained raising the little finger of her right hand -

-Just one? - he asked, outlining an amused smile - you surprise me

-I want to go back to work in the market - he said - before I met you I was a merchant - he explained - I traveled through many cities selling food from my car. I would like to have him back - she said, staring at him - work would help me to be on the streets and talk to people, like you said before - she reminded him - I think it would be good for me to keep my mind occupied after everything that has happened

-I will tell Tracio to look for it immediately - he said, holding her gaze-

-Thank you for everything you have done for me, Maximus - she murmured - I don't know how you repaid me for it

He looked at her for a few moments and after sketching a soft smile said:

-You have already done it

#my story #panem et circenses #writterscommunity #writters on tumblr #maximus decimus meridius #emperor commodus #diana

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yandere-sins · 4 years ago

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The Fox Wedding - Stay dead [True End]

Summary: You escaped.

Characters: Kitsune!Suna Rintarou, Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings for this chapter: Happy Ending

Death was as calm as you would expect it. Your body - or rather, your soul - felt like it was floating on water, but no wave dared to disturb you. There was no up or down, just the floating, and that was all there was for a while. As if you were in a room painted in black, nothing to see, to hear, to feel. All you knew was that it wasn’t uncomfortable.

The place you were in now wasn’t plagued with the horrors of life. Pain and suffering, fear and anger. There was no regret and no desire for revenge, but even without any feelings at all, it wasn’t boring. Perhaps this was what made death so unique, the absolute nothingness. You couldn’t even feel if you moved a limb or not, and thus, you concluded that this was it. Even after all that happened, without being able to feel anything, it became meaningless.

You were ready.

Who knew where your soul would go now, but you were ready to move on.

It almost felt like you were ascending from the water, ready to leave. Limbo. Going like this wasn’t bad, and your judgment of the situation was meaningless and thus easy for you. But perhaps you actually liked it! What was there not to like about it?

“Death is permanent, Human,” a sudden voice rung out. You didn’t know this was possible in this space. Was that God? Was it true after all, did such an entity exist? “So… come back.”

And at once, it was over.

Grabbed by what felt like fabric on your back, you were pulled backwards into the water, completely engulfed by the wet. You felt it glide over your skin, wet your hair, and try to fill your nostrils and mouth, and your body instinctively knew not to accept it inside of you. You opened your mouth to let it out, but it only filled more, and then, suddenly, you were pulled out of the water.

“Shhh, shhh,” a voice tried to calm you as your body shook violently in a cough. A stranger’s hand helped you to wipe away the water on your eyelids, and he held you up, so it was easier to free your lungs of the water. Even though you blinked a few times, you couldn’t get accustomed to the brightness all around you, but one by one, your senses reappeared.

You could feel the pressures on your body and pinch yourself again, birds chirped all around you. The taste on your mouth was unpleasant as if you had eaten something foul, but luckily it disappeared as time passed. Finally, your eyes started to focus again, the blur disappearing together with your sensitivity to light. You looked up at the tree crowns, rays of sunshine bursting through them as a breeze got caught in the leaves.

“W-Where--” you croaked, only causing you to cough more. Was this heaven? It almost seemed like it since you couldn’t hear anguished screams or the crackling of fire. So it wasn’t hell. Looking down at yourself, you seemed too old to be reincarnated, and you soon enough found yourself out of options of where you were.

“The forest,” the unfamiliar voice explained for you. Finally, you looked up towards the person sitting beside you, blinking a few times as you tried to remember where you had seen him before. His dark brown hair was shining in the sun, and from it, two very peculiar ears seemed to stick out. All of a sudden, you were hit by a flashback.

Gasping loudly, you touched your shoulder, tearing at the white kimono you were wearing and which you had never seen before. But no matter how much you searched, you couldn’t find the wounds that were inflicted on your body. It almost seemed pristine, but you knew it wasn’t.

“There are still some marks,” the stranger said, and you couldn’t help but flinch. Instinctively, you pushed yourself away from him, sliding off his hold and onto the ground, noticing you had been sitting in a spring. It wasn’t deep, but you noticed the bubbling nearby where it continuously flowed out of a crack in a stonewall. You felt too weak to actually move further, but now that you looked around, this part of the forest was even more unfamiliar than any other.

“Where am I?” you asked daunted, a big part of you returning to a state of fear and panic. The stranger sighed as he got up and walked over, seizing you by the armpits and pulling you up. Putting your arm around his neck and steading you with one hand around your hip, he moved forward, urging you to move even though you struggled. The first few steps were a hurdle, but with every continuous one, it got better.

“Why… But I…”

“Yes,” he said. “I won’t deny what happened, but I’m one of the few that knew about this magical spring water. It healed your wounds - almost perfectly even. But I don’t think there’s much more I can do for you.”

“Where are we… going?” you questioned as he led you on a small path through the forest. Everything seemed so… normal. As if it was trying to undermine the cruelty that happened the night before. “You wanted to go home, didn’t you?”

Peeking up at this, you gave the stranger another look over, all the memories slowly coming back. “I remember you,” you mumbled. “You were with Kita when he came to look after me! Why… why would you help me?”

Catching him as he looked away as if he was caught in a lie, there was no immediate answer. Instead, the pace quickened, and you did your best to keep up with his lead. “Not everyone liked the idea of marriage,” he finally spoke up. In the distance, you could see the trees clearing up. The end was finally near.

“Kita is a good leader. We all like him. But he’s been too obsessed with the idea of marrying you ever since he was still only an aspirant for the leader. Many tried to oppose him, coming to the clan to spy, like the twins, but it’s not easy to go against someone so calculated and strong as Kita is.”

He took a deep breath, collecting himself. “I’ve been by his side for a long time, and I don’t regret it. But I couldn’t watch this happening again.”

Again? you thought, but the moment you two finally left the last tree behind, you came to a halt, your attention quickly diverted. You recognized the road that spread out before you, a mere ten minutes walk from your home. Slowly, the fox let go of you, waiting for you to steady yourself on your feet, but it was easy now. “What should I do now? I- I can’t go back to the house! They’ll find me again…”

Your voice was still so fragile, cracking under the pressure of emotions that tried to regain their place in your body. It wasn’t as hard to stand, breathe, or all of it at the same time as it was to get used to feeling again. It was overwhelming, but you knew better than to get lost in emotions this time. After all, you’ve been through much worse before.

“No, they won’t.”

Looking up at the fox, you had noticed him back away into the shadows of the trees as he seemed ready to leave again. It was only a few steps, but it felt like he had made the separation between your worlds clear again. “The clan moved on as Kita couldn’t stay anymore after losing you. I have to go back to them now, but they won’t come looking for you. You are dead to them.”

Nodding slowly, you took a step forward towards him again, his body language showing that he was wary as you approached. “What’s your name?” you asked out of the blue. What a stupid sentiment, but you felt like after what he did, coming all the way back to save you, remembering his name was the least you could do. He looked surprised before his expression grew nervous and hesitant, but eventually, he decided to tell you softly. “Suna. Just… Suna.”

Reaching for his hands, you crossed the barrier between worlds one last time, squeezing them. “Then, thank you, Suna.”

Time was of the essence, and you felt it was running out for you two. When you thanked him, managing to smile softly, it was almost like a stone fell off your heart, freeing you off so many things. He gave a slight nod in your direction before pulling away, and you knew it was time to go. “Farewell,” you sighed, relief spreading through you, and you turned to leave. It would be hard to go back now, remembering all that happened. Certainly, you couldn’t stay in that house for much longer, even if Suna said it was safe now. Too much had happened. Too much that you wanted to forget forever.

Way down the road, you turned around, seeing the silhouette of a small fox sitting on the curb, watching you. As you noticed it, the fox sprang up and disappeared into the woods, and you couldn’t help but be thankful, knowing he had watched over you just in case. Somehow, you’d be alright. It would be hard to manage without anyone who’d ever believe what you’ve been through, but Suna had managed to restore some of your faith in the world. Just marriage. You’d postpone that… for a long while. You definitely had enough of marrying, and maybe you’d move to the city now, just in case.

But as you looked up at the blue sky with the morning sun rising ever so slowly, you felt grateful for this chance you were given. The experience aside, you definitely felt like you had grown from it. Gained some insight into the worth of life.

You were given this second chance, and you were not going to waste it, no matter how hard it would be.

This time, you’d do better.

“You’re such a goody two-shoes,” Atsumu taunted as he approached Suna. The latter only looked back over his shoulder calmly, seeing the twins’ faces slowly creeping up to him. “It’s a shame. I really wanted her for myself.”

Giving Atsumu a nudge with his elbow, Osamu reminded his brother, “She was dead until a few minutes ago. There was nothing for you to get there but worms.”

“And now she isn’t, I wonder how!”

The bickering between the two continued while Suna turned forward again. From the hill he was standing on, he could see you disappear inside your house, locking the doors behind you. You were such a good girl, careful but kind until the end. You didn’t need to thank him, but you did, smiling at him before you left. He, too, had always appreciated the kindness of humans, even if he always had warned Kita to not interact with humans back when the two of them were still small cubs. But no matter how weak, humans could still be kind, a fascinating fact in his eyes.

There was so much you didn’t know, and perhaps, it was better that his world would no longer be part of yours. The intrigues, foul words, magic - that wasn’t for a good human like you. An eternity bound to a being like a Kitsune wasn’t what would make you happy, even if…

“Suna~ What are ya thinking about so hard? Aren’t ya coming with us? Don’t tell me you changed yer mind?” Slinging one arm around Suna’s shoulders, Suna’s train of thought was interrupted, and he sighed deeply. “Idiot,” Osamu grumbled, kicking his brother in the shin. “Have some tact and let the guy make sure she gets home safely. They’re family.”

Atsumu rolled his eyes but let go of Suna, the two walking a few steps ahead as they gave him the time to say goodbye. But they were right; there was no use lingering. Maybe Suna should have told you why you were so interesting for the kitsune. You were a rare sight as a human ancestor, after all. Knowing that you and he shared the same family tree - even if there were hundreds of years and what felt like a couple dozens of generations between you two - he couldn’t have let you die like one of the other darling wives Kita had found over the centuries. Suna had seen it too many times how he ended up hurting them as they hurt him by escaping or angering him, though arguably, the emotional wounds Kita suffered weren’t as bad as the deadly ones he inflicted. Then again, thanks to that, it gave Suna a new reason to live. No more clans or loyalty. He had something much more important now.

Family.

“Do ya think she’ll go to the city? Think I could become a city boy?” Atsumu mused, and Osamu let out a loud snort while Suna turned around to follow the two. “Only thing you’re good for would be a fur coat,” Osamu snarked, and it even brought a chuckle to Suna’s lips as Atsumu gasped loudly. They turned their attention to Suna, slowing down their steps to match him and lowering their voices as they spoke between themselves.

“Are you sure Kita won’t notice? You stole her right from under his nose, after all. He didn’t even bury her yet - luckily,” Atsumu asked, and Suna shrugged. “You don’t know it because you’re young, but the older and stronger a kitsune gets, the more they begin to forget. I’m sure he is very busy looking for a new replacement right now. He never got over this first wife of his. She truly was perfect. Kind, loyal, and loved him.”

Silent glances were exchanged between the twins as Suna revealed some of the past that he witnessed. “Her only fault was her mortality, and I guess that’s why he keeps searching.”

“Ya think he’ll ever find someone?” Osamu asked after a moment of silence. Suna shrugged again. Even he didn’t have the answers to everything.

“Who knows,” he sighed, and those were his final words on the matter. Rubbing his hands gently, he remembered the warmth of your touch, relieved that your life had been spared. All of your lives would go on, even for the younger kitsune. Their life was too long to ponder about the past. All that mattered was the future.

And Suna was glad that the past didn’t take away your future either.

Want a different ending?

➤ Go back to the prologue to change your fate

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lilyofthesword-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Anomaly (Haldir Oneshot)

Summary: Haldir meets you, a member of the Fellowship seeking passage through Lothlorien. Though not a fan of humans, he is curious about you.

Pairing: Haldir x F!Reader

Word Count: 5,111

Warnings/Disclaimers: A curse word. Some violence due to the Battle of Hornburg/Helm’s Deep and Minas Tirith. Injury, mentions of blood.

A/N: This is told more from Haldir’s perspective. Based off another weird dream I had. Threw in a bit of the book as well. Really wanted to get this out cuz my boi needs more love.

Masterlist

Haldir gazed at you from afar while he was on watch that evening. You were... peculiar to him. When he came across the Fellowship trying to pass through the Golden Wood, he never expected to find a human woman in their midst. The world of man was an anomaly to him despite his numerous interactions over hundreds of years. Human women were not granted the same rights and privileges as the men, a foreign to him. This was not the way of Elven culture. Meeting you there was refreshing in a way.

In conversing with Aragorn, he learned you were a soldier of Gondor who had traveled alongside Boromir and joined the Fellowship. You were a fierce warrior but kept a calm air about you. The few human female fighters he had come across, be it on purpose or part of their nature, generally overcompensated, feeling the need to prove themselves constantly. You did not. When the Marchwarden and his company initially surrounded the Fellowship, everyone drew their weapons, ready for the next challenge. You opted to place your hands on Frodo’s and Sam’s shoulders to calm them while Merry and Pippin stood at either side. Instead of fear or anger, Haldir saw an analytical curiosity gleaming in your eyes.

Even now as he kept you in his peripheral, your eyes held a certain light, a light not caused by reflecting the bright moon. It was a kind of serenity most humans rarely portrayed. It didn’t break even as pounding of ambitious orc feet hit the forest floor below. All you did was gently shift your arms that held two sleep-ridden hobbits.

Since the platforms amongst the trees were not large enough to contain both the Fellowship and Haldir’s party together, you had to be split apart. Aragorn kept you, Legolas, Frodo and Sam while Boromir, Gimli, Merry and Pippin rested on a neighboring platform. You had taken to the Hobbits just as much Boromir had, your arms wrapped around them with their heads resting on either shoulder. How you bonded with the curious creatures so well, Haldir would never know. You managed to bring a semblance of peace to their aching hearts, enough so they could rest. He could not imagine it was an easy feat considering all the Fellowship had been through. It made him wonder what Lady Galadriel would make of you.

Upon reaching Caras Galadhon, you practically vibrated with childish delight. Although you had been to Rivendell, you had never seen anything quite like the capital city, that much Haldir was certain. The corners of his mouth tugged into the faintest of smiles when he saw your elated face. He turned away to restore his stoic facade, but unknowingly caught the attention of another. Aragorn shot him a knowing smirk as their eyes met momentarily. Haldir said nothing and continued to lead the way up the stairs spiraling the ancient trees.

Up the stairs, across some bridges and the Fellowship was in the presence of Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. Haldir bared witness to the interactions from the sidelines. He knew when Lady Galadriel entered each of their minds through their minute expressions. While most struggled to remain slightly neutral to her ministrations, others had a difficult time hiding their horror. You, on the other hand, parted your lips with an acute tilt of your head, not bothering to mask your wonder or amusement.

The meeting came to a close shortly after. Lady Galadriel’s gaze swept over the group, ultimately landing on you. Haldir knew she would call upon you later that evening. Until then, he was tasked with guiding the Fellowship to where they would be resting.

It was long after the others had gone to bed, after Frodo returned from the mirror, when Haldir learned he was correct. He spied you and Lady Galadriel wandering the halls, speaking softly amongst yourselves. What about, he could not say. He swiftly took the next pathway so as not to intrude on your private moment.

Marchwarden. Please come.

Always the obedient one, he turned himself around to join you both.

He greeted the pair of you with a bow.

“Marchwarden,” Lady Galadriel responded with a smile. “Would you be so kind as to escort our guest back to her company? The hour is late, and she deserves just as much rest as her friends.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Haldir held out his arm for you to take which you did after properly bidding Lady Galadriel a good night with a bow. He led you along the walkways, taking his time in doing so. This would more than likely be one of the few times he would be able to speak with you alone. The Fellowship would continue on their quest as soon as possible.

“These woods are truly a wonder. I have never experienced anything quite like it,” you started, breaking the quiet between you, voice so delicate it was hard to believe you were the warrior Aragorn made you out to be.

An agreeing hum quietly rumbled in his throat. “It is a gem of Middle Earth.”

“I must agree. I think I can understand your fierce desire to protect this place, your home.”

“I am sure you wish to protect Gondor just as much. Your dedication to the Fellowship is proof of that.”

“Despite the hardships,” you tried to hide the way you sucked in a breath, “I am glad to be a part of this. They have all become like family to me.”

Gandalf.

Hearing the grief lightly laced in your voice, Haldir stopped and pulled his arm away just enough to take your hand, turning to stand in front of you. With his free hand he cupped your cheek to catch the stray tear that had escaped your lashes. He was at a loss for words. Comforting others was not a skill commonly taught to Marchwardens. You caught his hand before he had a chance to think about retracting it, leaning into his touch. He closed the last bit of distance between you two and stroked the swell of your cheek with his thumb, your eyes shutting to bask in the moment.

An eternity or mere moments passed. Neither of you could tell by the time you finally spoke. “Thank you.”

The day your company was set to leave, Haldir felt a small pang in his heart. Why was he so bothered by your departure? He had only had the one major interaction with you. The rest of his time was spent either training or on patrol, and on patrol really meant him keeping an eye on the Fellowship. You just happened to be around when he took watch, or so he tried to convince himself.

He stood aside as Lady Galadriel offered her gifts to the travelers, giving them each something they would need or want. She bestowed on you a small Elven dagger, tiny enough to conceal in a boot with little discomfort. The Marchwarden, though content you had some extra to defend yourself with, hoped you would never need to use it.

Haldir then brought the Fellowship to the boats where everyone’s belongings were already packed and settled. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you while everyone said their proper farewells, but nothing stopped him from following down river to the borders. He and his troupe had orders to make sure you all reached them safely anyways.

Despite being hidden amongst the trees, it was like you knew he was there. Your head turned towards him as you passed the borders, not making eye contact but still unnervingly close to it. A tiny smile graced your lips before returning to the task at hand.

Helm’s Deep was not where the Marchwarden wanted to be, but he still had his orders. He was charged with leading an Elven army to help defend the kingdom of Rohan. Entering the gates, he was speaking with a perplexed King Théoden when what was left of your party rounded the corner. Your grin shone brightly in the dark when Aragorn surprised him with an embrace.

Haldir found himself both pleased and upset by your presence. While you looked to be in good health, he did not know your full battle prowess and as such was unsure how you would handle the soon-to-be battlefield. However, he never had the chance to voice his concerns as he needed to position his soldiers.

The rain poured when the standoff with the Orcs and Uruk-hai began, pinging off of helmets loudly. Haldir stood among his fellow Elves. Aragorn spread the rest of you out, sending you to the opposite end of Helm’s Deep where Haldir’s view was partially obscured. He could at least see you standing proudly alongside the other men. He could only imagine the fire in your eyes.

When the battle began, it raged with seemingly no good end in sight. A section of the wall had exploded with Aragorn near enough to be caught in the blast. Haldir could hear you bark your clear and concise orders to the men as you rushed to help Aragorn. Upon reaching his feet, Aragorn yelled out the order to retreat further in to better protect the caves the women and children were hiding in. Haldir belayed the orders in his native tongue to his soldiers.

He made sure the soldiers retreated but was unable to do so himself. Surrounded by the enemy on a high ledge, he slashed through them in an attempt to make a path for himself. His weariness had caught up with him as he was hit in the side with a jagged weapon.

“Marchwarden!”

He spun around as someone called him, ready to slice through his assailant. It fell to the ground as he faced it, revealing you with a now broken sword which you cast away. You stepped over the dead enemy to get a better look at him. Haldir clutched his side when you tried to check on his wound.

“How bad is it?”

“You should be retreating,” he tried to dodge the question.

“As should you,” you answered sternly, locking eyes with him. “Are you still able to keep moving?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We must go quickly.”

You reached out to help him when your breath hitched. You lurched towards him, grabbing his free arm to pull him forward, the motion catapulting you behind him. You ripped the dagger from your boot as you continued towards the Orc that had snuck up behind Haldir, and shoved it between the layers of its armor. In the creature’s last breath, it brought down its sword on your shoulder, forcing you to your knees.

Haldir rushed to your side, stabbing the Orc once more for good measure before shoving it off the ledge. He kneeled in front of you, clenching his jaw to ignore the pain in his side, and held you steady by your upper arms. Your eyes were glassing over while you desperately tried to keep your head up to look at him.

He called out your name. “We need to follow the others. Are you able to stand?”

You blinked a few times before hoarsely whispering, “I... I don’t... know.”

Your shoulder bled profusely as Haldir tried to help you stand. He took on most of your weight with your arm over his shoulder. You wouldn’t last much longer without a healer’s attention. Biting back his own pain, he practically carried you down the stairs to solid ground where Aragorn met you. He and what little was left of the soldiers who had not yet retreated formed around the two of you, furiously slicing at the Orcs and Uruk-hai that would stop you from reaching the main halls.

Soldiers who were protecting the doors ushered you inside immediately where Haldir brought you into the caves for the healers to watch over. One tried to make him sit momentarily to tend to his own injury, but he brushed them away. He could still continue. His ribs were probably bruised, if not broken, but his armor kept the damage from being life threatening. He promptly left to speak with Aragorn about the next plan of attack. He would be damned if he allowed any of those foul beings to pass into the caves to finish the job.

The battle was won, Gandalf having arrived with reinforcements right when they needed him most. When victory was assured, the Marchwarden wasted no time in returning to the caves where you lay unconscious. The healers bandaged you to the best of their abilities given the circumstances, and you were at least breathing steadily.

Much to the surprise of his fellow elves and your company, Haldir rarely left your side, even during the trek back to Edoras. He was still there when you woke safely in the Golden Halls of Meduseld.

Your eyes struggled to open as you stirred awake. “Wh-what happened?” Your voice was hoarse from sleep and lack of water.

“You were struck down, Mellon nin.” Haldir brushed a rogue strand of hair from your forehead and placed his hand on yours. “We were able to retreat to the caves.”

“And the battle?” Your arms shook as you tried to sit up and lean your weight on your good side. “The outcome?”

The Marchwarden tried to settle you back down, but you would not relent. “We were victorious. Gandalf arrived with reinforcements at dawn and drove the enemy out.”

You began to relax at that before another question flooded your mind. “What about-”

“Your friends are well,” he chuckled at your persistence. “They are preparing to leave for Isengard soon. Word has returned that it has fallen.”

Before you had a chance to ask another question, he helped you sit up the rest of the way so as not to aggravate your wound further with your stubbornness and handed you a glass of water. You drank it slowly despite your need to relinquish your thirst.

“Thank you.” You passed the glass back to him, your voice clearer now. “When do they leave?”

“Tomorrow morning, I believe,” Haldir answered and coaxed you to lay back down.

You nodded with a hum. “I suppose I should rest more, then. If there is a chance that Merry and Pippin are there and well, I would like to be there.”

“Mellon nin, your injury is not yet healed.”

“A mere shoulder wound will not prevent me from riding to Isengard,” you huffed.

“It is nothing to scoff at. Mellon nin, you almost died,” he pleaded with you, taking one of your hands in both of his.

“Haldir, I still have my duty to the Fellowship. I cannot abandon them.”

“Tending to your health is not abandoning anyone,” he spoke softly as he ran a thumb across your knuckles. “You will still be able to continue your quest when you have healed.”

You sighed deeply, looking to the ceiling as though collecting your thoughts. “I just... This is something I feel like I need to do.”

A deafening silence showered the room. Haldir studied you for a moment, your unencumbered hand fiddling with the sheets. Your mind was made up, and there was nothing he could do.

“Mellon nin,” he breathed, reaching for your face so you would look at him. “You will not let this go, will you?”

You shook your head with determined yet pleading eyes.

He squeezed your hand gently. “Then, I suppose all I can ask of you is to get your rest tonight.”

“Thank you.” With a smile, your thumb glided over his.

He made to stand so you could sleep in peace without him hovering. As he pulled his hand away, you gripped it tighter.

“Haldir? Will you stay? At least until I fall asleep? I am not sure I wish to be alone right now.”

Taken aback, he stood there dumbly before retaking his seat. “Of course, Mellon nin.”

The next morning, the remaining members of the Fellowship gathered at the stables. Aragorn was in the middle of trying to convince you to stay behind. Gandalf stood out of the way with Gimli, biting back a laugh at Aragorn’s futile efforts, while Haldir and Legolas prepared the horses.

“You will only worsen your injury,” Aragorn chided.

You folded your arms defiantly across your chest. “One trip on horseback is not so arduous.”

“She has already made up her mind, Aragorn. I doubt you will be able to change it,” Gandalf chimed in.

Haldir was tightening the saddle on the horse that would carry you so it was more secure when Legolas silently sidled up to him. “You have already said your peace, have you not?”

“What makes you say that?” Haldir twisted the saddle to test it.

“You have barely left her side since our victory. You must have spoken with her before now,” Legolas quipped.

“Indeed, I have.”

“Then, surely in your fondness of her you would have tried to convince her to stay behind.”

“Fondness?” Haldir stilled a moment before adjusting the straps again. “We are friends, Legolas. Nothing more.”

“Then why is it you have been meticulously preparing this one horse whilst I have already saddled three?” Legolas shot him a pointed smirk.

The Marchwarden felt himself flush all the way to the tips of his ears. “She is still injured. I- We cannot risk her hurting herself further.”

Legolas held his chuckle in his throat as a hum. “The sooner you stop attempting to fool yourself, Mellon-”

“Alright, you may join us!” Aragorn growled with a huff, stealing the attention of the bickering elves. “However, the moment a battle should arise, you are to return here.”

“Of course,” you complied, a stubborn edge to your voice.

Aragorn’s heavy sigh was littered with grit. “Are the horses ready?”

Haldir and Legolas nodded swiftly.

“Good. Let us be on our way.”

You made your way to the Marchwarden who was beckoning you over.

“Are you sure there is nothing I can do to change your mind, Mellon nin?” he asked softly.

“I am, yes.”

You flashed a smile at him before placing a foot in the stirrup. Haldir remained hovering near you. Your shoulder strained as you willed your arms to reach the saddle, steadying yourself as you pushed down on the stirrup to lift yourself up. Midway up, you lost your grip as your shoulder suddenly gave out. Haldir was quick to press a hand to your back to stop your fall. He noticed how your jaw tensed to grind out what was obviously the pain of your wound, but you were still determined to mount the horse.

“Here.” He gripped your waist. “I apologize if this seems forward.”

He raised you enough so you could swing your leg over the saddle, letting you go the moment you had your balance.

“N-not at all. Thank you.”

You held the reins tightly as you settled down, knuckles turning white like it could make everything better. Haldir felt his chest tighten and covered one of your hands with his own, eyes filled with concern. Your head snapped down to meet his gaze. With a reassuring yet forced smile, you attempted to relax your muscles to conceal just how much your injury hurt, but he saw right through it.

With a heavy sigh and shake of his head, he took hold of the saddle and hoisted himself up behind you.

“What are you-”

“If your pain is that severe, you shall not ride alone,” Haldir interrupted, finality in his tone.

“Haldir, this is not necessary,” you argued as he pulled the reins from your hands.

Legolas slinked by with Gimli on their horse, sending you two a knowing smile. The Marchwarden’s blush bled to his ears again. He didn’t notice your own flushed face.

Haldir cleared his throat. “Let us go before we fall behind.”

The journey to Isengard was quiet and uneventful. Partway through the trip, you finally allowed yourself to relax, not realizing you were leaning back into Haldir. Though bemused, he was not about to protest.

Collecting Merry and Pippin was as simple as it was amusing. They were most excited about reuniting with their companions. It was on the ride back that you and Haldir overheard their teasing about you sharing a horse. Aragorn and the others bit back grins and commentary of their own.

The festivities that followed upon returning to Edoras were no better, the ale at least partly to blame. The Marchwarden and what remained of his soldiers were settled near Legolas who was currently in the middle of a drinking match with Gimli. You had yet to arrive. Eowyn was the only reason Haldir was not at your side forcing you to rest. She tended to your shoulder, promising to return you for the celebration. He would have preferred you did not come for the sake of your health, but as long as you were not overexerting yourself again, he would not complain.

He swirled the ale in his mug after taking a swig, mulling over recent events. Usually he was not one to allow his emotions control his actions, and yet he was doing that much more often now. He felt like he couldn’t help himself. There was this overwhelming desire to keep you safe, keep you close, regardless of the fact that you were perfectly capable of handling yourself. Haldir had caught a glimpse of your abilities at Helm’s Deep. There was a reason you had gone to Rivendell with Boromir and joined the Fellowship.

As if to break him of his spiraling thoughts before they grew out of control, one of his neighboring elves nudged his arm, winking and motioning him to look up. He lifted his gaze, about to make a remark for the elf’s teasing, when he saw Eowyn stepping into the room with you close at her side.

The music, shouts, laughter - they all faded away from his ears. You practically radiated light despite your nervous self on display. Eowyn had lent you one of her dresses, the fabric draping differently on your frame from hers yet no less perfect. She caught Haldir’s gawking and whispered something in your ear with a smirk. You glanced up to see him but dipped your head back down to where your hair curtained your tiny, bashful smile. Eowyn was quick to tuck the offending hair behind your ear. She giggled and murmured to you again, resulting in your flustered rush to join your companions.

Haldir focused on his ale once again. The elf who had coaxed him into looking up bumped his arm. Without saying a word, he was fully encouraging his captain to go to you. The elves in his company had never seen their normally reserved, stoic Marchwarden act like this before, and they thought it a fantastic development. They all joined in pestering him to at least ask you for a dance. It took a while, but his stubbornness crumbled, and he brought himself to his feet only to notice you were missing from your company. He scanned the crowds, hoping to spot you. Maybe someone else had already asked you to dance. That theory was thankfully doused when he spied the swish of your dress through a door leading outside.

Following and stepping out into the cool night air, he found you leaning forward on the wooden railing, gazing up at the stars. Your hair sparkled under the dim light. He realized tonight was the first time he had seen you without it tied or braided back out of the way.

“Mellon nin,” Haldir called to you softly so as not to startle you. “Are you alright?”

You turned to see him just outside of the door and nodded with a tired smile. “Yes. I just felt I needed some fresh air and a moment away from the crowd.”

“I apologize for disturbing you. I will-”

“No!” You cut him off quickly. “I mean... You did not disturb anything. You can stay if you would like.”

The corners of Haldir’s lips tugged upwards ever so slightly as he approached you, joining you in your previous stargazing. The peaceful quiet of the night muffled the festivities in the building. He felt you cover his hand with your own accompanied by a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you, Haldir, for everything,” your voice was just above a whisper.

“I should be thanking you, Mellon nin,” he shook his head, his other hand coming to grasp yours. “If you had not come for me, I would not be at your side now.”

A breathy chuckle passed your lips. “I suppose we are even then.”

Haldir hummed questioningly.

“Had you not brought me with you whilst retreating, then I would not be at your side now.” You parroted the last words with a grin.

The Marchwarden’s shoulders shook with a quiet laughter. “I cannot argue against that.”

You set your free hand on top of your conjoined ones as you leaned against his shoulder. A comforting silence befell you both. That is until you heard chittering giggles from behind. The pair of you turned to see Merry and Pippin poking their heads from the doorway, followed by Aragorn who proceeded to drag them back inside and shot you a wink as he did so.

Gondor had called for aid. Rohan answered. The army’s camp was set up, and Aragorn had a plan. Haldir received orders for his company to continue helping Rohan and meet with Elrond to receive more explicit directions.

The morning for departure arrived, and Aragorn was set to travel to the Paths of the Dead. Legolas, Gimli, Haldir and you were to join him. Haldir’s soldiers were to follow King Théoden into battle. You all stood wearily at the start of the trail, feeling the ominous air seeping down to the bone.

Haldir brushed his hand against your elbow for your attention. “May I speak with you privately?”

You looked up at him with worried eyes and nodded, probably guessing what this was about. He pulled you to the side just out of earshot of the others.

He steeled himself with a deep breath. “I must insist you do not join us, Mellon nin.”

“But Haldir, I-”

“Please, Meleth nin,” he desperately pleaded, not meaning to let the new term of endearment slip. Tenderly cupping your face with both hands, he continued, “None of us know how this will end. We... We may not come back. I beg of you to please stay with Eowyn.”

His voice was hushed, afraid it would break if he attempted to speak any louder. He knew his emotions were on full display, but he could not bring himself to care. What mattered was keeping you safe.

“Haldir...” you trailed off, grasping at his wrists with the utmost care to keep them in place. You gave a quick nod and tried to conceal your worried frown. “Alright. However. You had better- You all had better return.”

He pressed his forehead to yours. “I will do everything in my power to do just that.”

The Marchwarden was among the Fellowship in Minas Tirith when he saw a barely conscious Eowyn being carried into the Houses of Healing. Panic coursed through his veins. You were nowhere to be found. He rushed over to her as she was laid on a bed.

“Lady Eowyn, what happened?”

She nearly didn’t recognize him. All of her effort was put into focusing on his words.

“Lady Eowyn, please. Where is she?” He held his breath like it would help him hear better.

With a tiny shake of her head, she croaked quietly, “I am sorry... We... We were separated... in battle... I know not... her fate...”

Haldir stepped aside to allow the healers in. His heart was at a standstill. Had he known Eowyn was going to sneak her way into the army, he would have pleaded with you to return to Rohan. Your injury did not have the time to fully heal. Fighting in such a strenuous battle would do you no good. He needed to find you. He needed to know that you were well.

Bursting through the doors, he raced down the stairs for the lower levels, Aragorn shouting something after him. He did not hear a word. Canopies were set up and homes were open near the gate for the soldiers who were unable to reach the Houses of Healing. Haldir weaved through the injured in a desperate attempt to find you. He’d rather discover you here as long as you were among the living.

After a fruitless search under the canopies, he began entering the opened homes. He asked anyone able for a person matching your description. Nothing. Nothing until he reached the last home. There you were towards the back of the room. An older woman had just stepped away from helping you. The armor you had borrowed like Eowyn was in a pile to the side. He could see the bandage on your thigh through the tear in your trousers, but other than that you came away from the battle fairly unharmed. How you managed that with a preexisting injury was a mystery to him.

“Meleth nin,” Haldir breathed, making his way to you. This time he meant to use the term.

Somehow, you heard him over the throng of people, your gaze meeting his. “Haldir!”

You rose to your feet a little too quickly and swayed unintentionally to put your weight onto your good leg. Haldir darted to you just in time, bringing you into his embrace.

“You’re alright...” He rested his forehead on yours just like before you departed, completely forgetting those around you. “I was beginning to think my search was for naught.”

Wrapping your arms around him, you buried your face in his chest. “Haldir, I... I’m so sorry. I know you meant to keep me from harm-”

“Shhh,” he cooed, settling his chin on the crown of your head. “I know. There is no need to apologize. All that matters is that you are here and well.”

Your light chuckle vibrated through him. “You are much too patient with me.”

“I assume you are not familiar with that.”

“You would be right.” He could feel your cheeks lift as you smiled. “Most tend to leave when I grow stubborn.”

Haldir shifted his face so it rested in your hair, murmuring into your scalp, “I am not going anywhere, Meleth nin.”

The world of man was still an anomaly to him. You were an anomaly within that world, and he wouldn’t have you any other way.

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reinerispretty · 5 years ago

Text

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt17

there’s a lil easter egg in here :) wonder who can find it first!! thanks so much for reading i lov u

pt1

pt16

pt18

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Zuko asked. His amber eyes were transfixed on the tent before him.

“I think you know that isn’t true.” (Y/N) took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “I’ll be with the others if you need me.”

When the group awoke the next morning, Aang was gone. Each member searched high and low for the young Avatar, but to no avail. “I don’t really think this is the time for him to go on one of his special Avatar journeys,” Toph grumbled, to which (Y/N) hummed in agreement. As the group reunited after their searches, Zuko proposed the idea of utilizing the bounty hunter June and her shirshu Nyla in finding Aang.

“Isn’t she the one who paralyzed me?” (Y/N) asked bitterly.

“And me?” Sokka chimed in.

“And me?” Katara added. Zuko shrugged.

“Her shirshu can track someone down from across a continent. If anyone can find Aang, it’s her.” (Y/N) was not interested in the idea of procuring a bounty hunter to find Aang, but it was their only hope.

And that hope was quickly squandered. When they found June and convinced her to help them, her shirshu couldn’t locate Aang.

“Is he dead?” (Y/N) asked. June shook her head.

“Nyla would be able to smell his body. Your friend isn’t in this world anymore.” What that meant exactly, the group had no idea. Even when Aang traveled to the Spirit World, his physical body remained in the physical one. How could he have just disappeared?

“Try this, then,” Zuko said, holding up a piece of clothing to Nyla’s nose. The shirshu sniffed and immediately turned in the opposite direction, ready to dart off into the woods.

“Whose is that?” Katara asked.

“It’s my uncle’s. If anyone will be able to tell us what to do, it’s him.”

Nyla led the friends to the outer wall of Ba Sing Se, where they were met by King Bumi, Master Pakku, and the other great masters they had met over their travels.

“How do you all know each other?” Sokka asked.

“We are all part of the Order of the White Lotus,” Piandao explained. “An organization that transcends loyalty to our nations and instead comes together to fight for the common good.”

“Does that mean my uncle is here?” Zuko asked. Piandao nodded. The six friends were led into the main camps, where many tents had been set up to house other members of the Order. As (Y/N) passed, she recognized a few of the members as people she had known during her time traveling the three nations. Citizens of the Fire Nation that were also part of the Order seemed to be few and far between, but (Y/N) supposed their numbers deteriorated after nearly a hundred years of pro Fire Nation propaganda.

The biggest tent of them all belonged to the Grand Lotus: Iroh. The rest of the group dispersed to discuss battle plans, leaving (Y/N) and Zuko paused just paces away from the entrance of the tent.

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” Zuko asked. His amber eyes were transfixed on the tent before him.

“I think you know that isn’t true.” (Y/N) took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “I’ll be with the others if you need me.” Her fingers slid from his and Zuko turned to watch her walk away before taking a deep breath and entering his uncle’s tent.

(Y/N) sat between Sokka and Katara as they listened to Master Pakku describe the Order’s plans to liberate Ba Sing Se. He paused as she joined their group.

“Ah, (Y/N). Glad to see you’re back in the clothes of your home nation.” It was a joke of course, a nod to the last time they had seen each other.

When the Fire Nation was attacking the Northern Water Tribe, (Y/N) had felt defenseless while fighting off the Fire Nation soldiers, so she had unleashed her firebending on them. Soldiers from the Water Tribe had captured her as a spy and it had taken a lot of convincing from Katara that she really was trying to fight against the Fire Nation. It was an embarrassing misunderstanding that led to (Y/N) to choose hand-to-hand combat over her own firebending if she could help it.

“Evening, Master Pakku,” (Y/N) said with a smile.

“Do you really think Iroh and the other firebenders will be powerful enough to take back the city?” Sokka questioned. Both Pakku and (Y/N) nodded.

“His power as a firebender is unparalleled,” Pakku explained.

“He might look like a sweet old man, but he is one of the best firebenders in the entire nation,” (Y/N) added. “I learned some of my best techniques from studying how he fought. Plus the comet will only make firebenders even more powerful.”

“Yeah, but you’re fighting against Fire Nation soldiers,” was Sokka’s rebuttal. “Won’t they be more powerful too?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I don’t mean to sound like a snob, but people like Iroh and I spent a lot more time training than those lousy soldiers. It’ll be a long fight, but not a hard one for Iroh.”

Almost as if he had been summoned, Iroh exited his tent with Zuko as his side. (Y/N) recognized the glistening trails of tears on Zuko’s face, but also saw the happiness in his eyes.

“(Y/N)!” Iroh cheered. She smiled widely and stood to run over and give him a hug. “It is very good to see you again.”

“And you the same,” she said, giving him a bow. “It feels like just yesterday that we broke out of the Fire Nation prison.”

“This is who broke you out?” Katara asked. Iroh chuckled.

“You think I would let the only other sane person in the Fire Nation stay in jail?” They returned to the campfire to further discuss their plans for the comet. Iroh poured them all cups of tea as Zuko and (Y/N) sat next to each other. Katara was the only one who caught the look of surprise on his face and she returned it with a smile as she accepted her cup of tea.

“Katara,” Zuko said. “How would you like to come to the Fire Nation to help (Y/N) and I take down Azula?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Katara said with a grin. The situation still gave (Y/N) a heavy feeling in her stomach, but sometimes the right thing was the hardest thing to do.

Eventually, (Y/N’s) friends and the other members of the Order dispersed from the campfire to retire for the night. Only (Y/N) and Iroh remained, finishing off the pot of tea.

“I see you and Zuko reconciled,” Iroh hummed as he sipped his tea.”

“For the most part, yes.” Iroh was the easiest person to talk to, (Y/N) found. When she was younger and had not even her own parents to turn to, if Iroh was visiting, he would lend her an ear. “I think I’ve forgiven him. Part of me still gets mad thinking about the things he’s done to me and my friends.”

“That is only natural. The heart cannot forget the wounds that it has endured, but it can heal from them.” (Y/N) nodded.

“I’m trying to.”

“I always thought you and Zuko were the most interesting pair.”

“How so?” Iroh sat in silence for a moment as he pieced his thoughts together.

“You are strong in your beliefs. You are not afraid to be defiant if it means doing what is right. I remember when you were younger, I heard you arguing with your mother about why you should continue your firebending training. You told her that you did not care what she wanted you to do, because you knew becoming a better bender would make you stronger.” Iroh chuckled.

“Zuko had told me to say that, so I could stay in training with him. She gave me the punishment of a lifetime after I said it.”

“I am sure. But Zuko was not granted the same strength as you. He is loyal to the people he cares about, which is why it was so hard for him to choose what was right and wrong. He loved you and I but loved his father and Azula as well.”

(Y/N) furrowed her brows. She wasn’t quite sure where Iroh was going with this, but then again, was anything he said ever straightforward?”

“You pushed Zuko to make the right choices and he pushed you to stand up for yourself. As I watched you grow up, I noticed how you rotated around each other. Like the moon and tides, you and Zuko were always the driving force behind the other.”

“Until he was banished.”

“Zuko fought so hard to capture the Avatar because he wanted to restore his honor and return home to you. He will never admit it, but that is all he wanted.”

“And I guess here I was, fighting against my home for doing horrible things and taking someone I cared about away from me.”

“We are all connected, but no matter how hard you or Zuko tried to cut the thread that tied the two of you together, it is indestructible.” Iroh finished the last of his tea and stood. “You must rest. We all have a big day ahead of us.”

(Y/N) watched as Iroh returned to his tent. She squashed out the dying fire. and made her way back to the tens she and her friends had been given. Katara and Toph slept in the first one, Suki and Sokka in the next, and Zuko lay fast asleep in the last one.

(Y/N) crawled into the spot beside him, feeling the exhaustion of the day weighing heavily on her body. She lay on her back and instantly fell asleep.

Katara woke the next morning and decided to rouse (Y/N) and Zuko first, since they would be traveling to the Fire Nation together. She pulled open the door to the tent to see (Y/N) snoring on Zuko’s chest, with Zuko’s arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

Katara dropped the tent door and walked away. She could give them a few more minutes.

---

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blossom-hwa · 4 years ago

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Danger: Stalemate - JUYEON

Pairing: Juyeon x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, fantasy, royalty!au

Triggers: death, semi-graphic depictions of blood

Word Count: 4.3k

Lesson 8: where one journey ends, another begins, oftentimes more difficult than the first.

Previous: Crown >> Stalemate

TBZ Masterlist | Danger | Kingdom

[ Taglist will be reblogged! Send a dm or an ask to be added! ]

Younghoon has seen Somin angry before, but never to this extent. Anger doesn’t even begin to cover the expression on her face – there’s something wild in her features, something that bleeds of absolute fury and sends terror striking to the core of his bones.

He stays still, suddenly very glad that he was able to send Minho to get Haknyeon out of here before the sun fully rises. Despite all he said, he can’t be sure Somin wouldn’t kill off his best friend in a fit of anger. Better that he leave first with a tiny chance of escaping rather than stay here and risk an almost certainty of dying.

Speaking of dying, Younghoon wouldn’t count himself out of that fate by the end of the day. Somin’s face has composed itself, but the way her hands bunch into her skirts speaks volumes about her true feelings.

One arm raises, her fingers flicking in a gesture of dismissal. Several guards exit the room, leaving Younghoon alone with a power-hungry maniac who looks ready to rip him limb from limb.

A drop of sweat rolls down the back of his neck.

“I suppose you thought your stunt was funny,” Somin finally says, unfisting her other hand out of her skirt. Her fingers splay on the table separating them, slim, lithe, pale, and Younghoon imagines the carefully trimmed nails growing longer and longer, snaking across the wood to pin him in place.

He shoves the image away. “That’s one way to put it, I suppose.”

Somin snarls. “You betrayed your own kingdom.”

“Not so.”

“Really?” One perfect eyebrow raises. Younghoon has to admire her ability to look so put together even in her nightclothes after almost no sleep. “Elaborate.”

Younghoon allows a cordial smile to pass over his face. “My duty as king is to do what I deem best for the kingdom,” he says, heart pounding. “That is the oath I took when I accepted the crown. I do not deem your methods suitable for the interests of my people.”

My people.

Somin notices his deliberate choice of words. Fury flashes across her eyes, nails digging into the table, but she doesn’t lunge like Younghoon thought she might. “It is regrettable that we do not agree on what will benefit our kingdom the most,” she says lightly.

Our. Younghoon wants to laugh. Since when has Somin cared about the common pawns under her rule? “Quite.”

Somin scoffs. “Indeed. I dare say that, however, my methods will win out in the end, despite this… temporary setback.”

That makes Younghoon blink. “You – what?” His composure slips. “You can’t think you’ll get the crown back.”

“Oh, I might not have the crown.” For the first time, a smile, a real, terrifying smile widens across Somin’s lips. “But a king must be crowned by a queen, no?”

A queen. Yes. A king cannot be crowned by anyone else, but Juyeon has a queen. His sister. What does Somin mean –

His eyes widen. “What did you do to her?”

Somin sneers. “Not as much as I’d like to have done,” she sniffs. “But we are in a stalemate, and she is away from the palace. As far as I know, she is alone, and…” Her smile widens. “From what I understand of her position, the presence of any pawn would only destabilize it. Even a royal one.”

No.

Younghoon clenches his hands into fists, trying to stop their shaking. “You’re lying,” he says, praying for a sign of untruth in Somin’s eyes. “You’re lying.” It can’t be that Juyeon, Kevin, and Jacob endured so much only to fall into yet another one of Somin’s ruthlessly intelligent traps.

But Somin only laughs, empty mirth echoing on the stone walls. “You thought I wouldn’t let them go if I wasn’t sure of a victory?”

Younghoon has to hold onto the side of the table to keep from falling over completely. His legs tremble as he tries to wrap his head around Somin’s words.

“So you see, I still win in the end.” She smiles, leaning forward. The image of a snake rearing its head to strike flashes through Younghoon’s mind. “There is only one way out of a stalemate, you know.”

The unspoken word hangs heavily in the air.

Surrender.

Somehow, Younghoon finds his voice. “They won’t be conquered so easily,” he says, endlessly thankful that his words don’t betray the terror flooding his veins. “Juyeon is still alive. He may not be king, but he can rally an army. And his sister is still a force on her own, you know.” His fingers clench on the table. “After all, they always did say she was smarter than you.”

Somin laughs again, though an edge of anger tints the sound. “I must disagree with you,” she replies, smile still intact. “I have the larger army. I have the power to move. I am the one who has placed her in a stalemate.”

“No one places the other in a stalemate,” Younghoon retorts. “If anything, I would say she is far more intelligent for being able to maneuver you into such a position, even after you began capturing her mages and killing her troops.”

“Does it matter?” Somin sneers. “I have the upper hand. And even if she or the prince managed to worm their way out of my control, do you really think I’m not smart enough to figure a way past it?”

“Oh, I believe you might.” Younghoon smiles, lips tinged with venom. “I hope you won’t, but you certainly are intelligent enough that you might. Allow me, however, to remind you of something the former queen understood much better than you.”

Somin cocks her head, looking almost bored. “Do enlighten me.”

Younghoon leans across the table. “Intelligence alone does not make a queen.”

Silence.

Then the sound of Somin’s tinkling laughter.

“You’ve reminded me of this many times, Younghoon.” Eyes bright with mania stare into his. “And I understand. Why do you think I keep you around, after all?”

If Younghoon lifted his hand, he’d see crescents from his nails imprinted in the wooden table. Checkmate.

“This was an enlightening conversation, my king,” Somin says, breaking the silence once more. She sweeps around the table, stepping forward enough to pat him on the cheek. He jerks away. “I do hope, however, that you will reconsider my thoughts on what is best for our kingdom. It is best, after all, for the two of us to present a united front in these turbulent times.”

“Turbulent times that you caused?” Younghoon snaps.

Somin only smiles as her skirts rustle out of the room. Younghoon manages to stay upright for one more second before his knees give out.

Hands clasp automatically in the traditional position of prayer as his head falls forward, eyes snapping shut. This isn’t a shrine, isn’t a holy place, but Younghoon thinks the orders will hear his prayer regardless.

They have to.

I revere the higher orders of the Board and beseech them to answer my prayer, loyal servant to the balance that I am. I pray for Prince Juyeon of the Onyx Kingdom, the amethyst heir Kevin Moon, and the esteemed mage Jacob Bae. I pray that they return home safely to their kingdom without harm.

He swallows hard, nails digging into his skin.

I pray that they will create a plan to defeat Somin, that they will find a queen ready and able to crown Juyeon king. I pray that if there is anything I can do to help, I will take that opportunity without a second’s thought. I pray that balance will be restored once more.

His head dips further as he squeezes his eyes tightly shut, sending one last prayer to the orders listening above.

I pray that we have the strength to carry out your will.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for me please don’t murder me for this)

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mommymooze · 4 years ago

Text

Big Girls, Big Hearts

The Golden Deer are devouring their lunch on a sunny fall afternoon. The conversation is lively as they are quite the boisterous bunch. Rumors are spreading about strange things happening in Remire Village. Everyone is working themselves into an anxious state about the perplexing rumors being overheard. Hilda decides it is time to lighten the conversation.

“You know, every year they hold a ball at the Academy. The students get the chance to get to know each other better in a more friendly environment and its sort of a reward for working so hard as well as a possible way to find future partners.” She grins widely.

“A ball?” you ask. “With dressing up and dancing? I’m a commoner. It’s only for nobles, right?”

Hilda scoffs. “No silly! It’s for everyone! Dancing and romancing! Time to find love and intrigue, hugs and kisses.”

“Um, this is an optional event, right?” You ask nervously. You’ve never been to a ball. Never had to learn to dance. You would rather beat up 500 bandits than go to a single ball.

“Come on (y/n) . You are the bravest person I know. What’s so scary about a little dance? Getting to hold a special someone in your arms for a bit, maybe even a kiss in the moonlight…Ooooh so exciting!” Hilda clasps her hands together daydreaming wistfully.

“Maybe I can catch the plague by then.” You grumble at your empty plate in front of you.

“No! Don’t even think that. We are going to get you ready and dressed up and you will not believe how beautiful you will look.” Hilda stomps her foot at you.

“Yeah, like putting lipstick on a pig, but with fat swollen lips because I’m allergic to it.” You further groan.

“Pish Posh! We can accentuate your good qualities yet keep you comfortable. I may let you wear shoes with less than 3 inch heels even.” Hilda puts her finger on her chin plotting further ways of dressing you up.”

“Balls are for petite cute girls like you and Marianne. My arms are like tree trunks. I am bulgy and lumpy. Not a sweet and delicate flower such as yourself.” You moan on, hoping she gives up soon.

Hilda puts her hands on her hips. “Yes, I can be a delicate flower. I also wield an axe just like you. Those things are heavy and take strength to swing around. Yes, I will admit to having a few muscles. Not everyone wants a delicate maiden that falls over from the slightest breeze. Some want a good hunk of warm and loving body to squeeze them back until they can’t breathe. Everyone knows you are incredibly strong. Didn’t I hear about you carrying Dedue to the infirmary not that long ago? I bet Felix or Sylvain couldn’t do it at all, but you just whisked him up and hauled him across the monastery like he was a little kid and ran him up the stairs to the infirmary.”

You blush furiously. “What was I supposed to do? I walked into the greenhouse just as he slipped on the wet rocks and he was knocked out. I couldn’t just leave him there.” You are hiding your face in your hands, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

Hilda laughs. “(Y/n), We watched you carry him bridal style running to the infirmary. I heard that when he found out he blushed for a half hour straight.!”

You want to crawl under the table, settling for crossing your arms and burying your face in them.

Hilda tugs your arm, “We are hitting up the dressmaker in town. Gonna get you a killer dress, show off those muscular toned abs and legs, and get you set up for the night of your life.”

“Nightmare of my life more like.” You mumble to yourself.

-----------------

The battle at Remire is terrifying. Thomas turns into a really creepy ghosty old guy. The Flame Emperor shows up being threatening. The worst part is the villagers. They are going crazy killing everything, even their own families. They didn’t know they are attacking their own loved ones, their own friends. The Deer try so hard to rescue as many villagers as possible. You work to subdue as many of the possessed ones you can. They are still someone’s family and hopefully the madness is temporary. When the battle is over you look at the village, not much is left of it. The smell of smoke and burnt everything is thick in the air, choking everyone, making their eyes burn. Finally, after the cleanup is done and all the villagers are treated for injuries, it is time to head back to the monastery.

The Golden Deer are unusually quiet as they silently march back to the monastery. Even Hilda is quiet after what she had seen. Ignatz makes his way over to you as the group keeps walking back to the academy.

“You ok?” He softly whispers to you.

You take your sleeve and wipe the tears from your eyes. “Yeah, I just got a lot of smoke in my eyes there. Thanks.” You mumble back, hanging your head a bit lower than it was before.

It is a long walk back. Everyone finally makes it into the monastery gates and the group splits up, everyone going their own direction.

Claude takes you aside. “Are you going to be okay? I’d be happy to chat if you want to. The professor is a great listener too.” He says with a look of concern in his eyes.

You don’t know where your tears are coming from now. They haven’t stopped since you were in Remire village. You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Professor Byleth comes over and puts her arm around your shoulder, leading you to her room. She pulls out a tea set and prepares tea.

“You know I lost my parents in a fire. Watching the village burn brought the whole thing back.” You stare down into your teacup.

“I’m sorry.” Byleth responds. Her face is not extremely expressive, but you can tell she is being very sympathetic from her body language.

“Do you think I can talk to Seteth about helping them out some? Isn’t this something like what the church would do? It is so late in the year and many of them don’t have secure homes to live in.” You ask, the tears slowing.

“My father and I spent a lot of time at that village. That was where the church found us. I will talk to him as well.” Byleth nods.

You return to your room to try to sleep after such a nightmarish week.

---------------------

The next morning you check with Seteth about assisting the village. You find that he has already spoken with Captain Jeralt and Lady Rhea feels that this is an excellent idea. After a few days of gathering supplies and materials, a small caravan heads out to Remire. Professor Byleth, the Golden Deer, Shamir, Jeralt and all his former mercenaries who had been incorporated into battalions, Alois and some of the Knights of Seiros, and surprisingly, Dimitri and Dedue.

The town elders meet with your group, discussing their wants and needs. Repairs to the structures that are salvageable should begin quickly. Tasks are divided between those that are experts in certain areas assisted by warm bodies that can lift, move or hand things to others. Ignatz is working on a map of the to be reconstructed village. Since assistance has arrived so quickly, there are fewer residents that will be leaving for other towns, happily staying now that they have some support. Everyone has something they can do. Cutting trees, clearing branches, gathering wood and kindling, sifting through burnt houses for useful items that can be salvaged like utensils, plates, and tools. The young go with the old to fields gathering heather, reeds, and straw for thatching the roofs.

You start with gathering salvaged bricks together to repair buildings. Even Lysithia can carry a few bricks at a time, you tell her 30 are needed at this house, 15 needed here. A few Knights head off to a local riverbank for sand and water to make the mortar. You clean and prepare the bricks, measure the materials and have someone stir the mortar mixture. Soon you find yourself up on a ladder with a full mortarboard spreading an even layer of the compound, then place a brick, lay more mortar between it and the next brick. Starting with the smaller repairs first there are now several restored residences that will keep the wind and weather out.

As the sun goes down, everyone gathers in the center of town around large cauldrons full of soup, together with fresh baked bread made by the residents from the supplies brought by the Academy volunteers. Many of the townspeople are crying thanking everyone for their help. The Knights certainly push that this is by the grace of the goddess and the church. Others are simply happy to help in any way they can.

You grab some soup and take a seat near Dimitri and Dedue. They greet you and welcome your presence.

“I am surprised by your bricklaying knowledge. I had no idea of your talents.” Dimitri smiles.

“My older brother was a bricklayer, I helped him out often when I was growing up. I can’t wait to get my hands on some hammers and nails once the brickwork is complete.” You grin. “I am surprised to find the two of you here.”

“Hey your Princeliness, Dedue, (Y/n). Mind if I join you?” Claude takes a seat next to you. “We really appreciate your help. We did not expect other houses to send anyone.”

“I am very interested to see firsthand the reconstruction after disasters such as this.” The prince says excitedly. “It is wonderous seeing everyone come together with a single mindset of rebuilding. Everyone is helping in so many different manners. The strong are carrying bricks and trees, cutting wood, lifting loads. The weaker are preparing food for everyone, gathering materials and completing more delicate work. I am amazed at how much has been accomplished in just a single day.”

“Agreed. Many hands make light work.” Dedue nods. “I am happy to lend my strength.”

“Both of you are certainly welcomed with open arms. There is plenty of heavy lifting to do.” Smiles Claude. “I hope we can replace a few homes before we leave. Talking with the elders, there are some families doubled up in the same house. At least if each family has their own place it would be much more pleasant making it through winter.”

“Another important thing is to provide these people support and comfort.” You softly speak. “Let them know there are others out here who care for you as your fellow man. I do not know any of these people, but I do know about losing things to disaster. People that had no idea who I was helped me, kept me going when my life was crushed by disaster. Now here I am, helping out someone else that I have no idea as to who they are. I just want to help them. I hope it keeps them going as well.”

Dedue nods and smiles. The two house leaders agree that this is a great learning experience for everyone. You take the empty dishes leaving them to chat amongst themselves and head over to Byleth who is sitting with her father and their former mercenaries.

“Byleth, Jeralt. I wanted to thank you personally for helping bring this together. It didn’t sit right with me leaving these people behind and in such a ruined state.” You say, a smile finally crossing your lips.

“If Seteth would have said one word about not helping with this I would have punched that ‘No’ right off of his face.” Jeralt laughs. Byleth smiles. “This is a great learning experience for everyone. I think all of the classes should complete a project like this. Hands on learning is the most practical. Even Lorenz is finding some hidden talents as a result of this experience. I think he has a greater respect for Leonie too. That girl can turn a pile of trash into 100 different useful things.”

After dinner there’s not enough light to work on building without making it dangerous. So you decide to knit a sock or two. That way you can talk to everyone and when you’re done, someone has a new pair of socks. Win-win! There is plenty of chatter to go around the campfires with everyone in the village telling interesting stories of its history, or funny residents who did silly things, famous village romances or deeds. They also share stories of when the Blade Breaker came to town to save or help them. Being in a village isn’t all peace and quiet. There were some exciting and spicy tales shared until the cobwebs filled everyone’s heads and it was time to sleep.

The next day is just as busy with more homes being made whole by the end of the day. Construction is started on two different houses. One for a larger family, one for a smaller. Everyone gives their all in some way or another. Gathering kindling, firewood, food, finding the animals that were scattered by the calamity. Suddenly Saturday morning arrives, the last day the group from Garreg Mach will stay for rebuilding. What a difference everyone has made! Every family in Remire has their own place to stay without having to share. There are a long row of stalls for wares in the new Marketplace. There is even a barn and stable to keep horses for the community. Firewood is stored to keep the homes warm. It is everything the smaller village needs to get them through the winter. There is a celebration in the village center and tears are shed. However, these are all tears of joy as new friendships have been forged and the feeling of a job well done can be left with the people. The march back to the monastery is full of high spirits and happy hearts.

---------------------

Back at the monastery you look forward to a warm bath and sleeping in your own bed. Just as you’ve changed into your nightgown there is a knock on the door.

“Um, I was just about to go to sleep. Can we talk tomorrow?” you anxiously respond to the knock as you stand at the door.

“It’s just me.” Says Hilda. “Come on. We’ve got some girl talk to do.”

You roll your eyes as the chipper pink ponytailed girl comes bouncing in your dorm.

“You haven’t forgotten the ball now, have you?” She winks.

“Oh yeah, that.” You stammer. You kinda sorta did forget.

“Tomorrow we’re going to town and getting a dressmaker to take your measurements. I know exactly what you need to wear.” She bubbles out excitedly. “I think you would be adorable in yellow. I saw the most darling shimmery satin material that would make you look like a princess.”

“A muscular, big shouldered princess.” You whine.

“Girl, you have no idea how to work with what you have, and you have a lot going for you.” Hilda smirks. “Now, I’ve been thinking. I know that you can’t wear lipstick, but I was hoping you can do some lip gloss. It has different things that go into it. Some are even flavored. Have you ever tried any?”

“Um. No.” You shrug sheepishly.

“Great! Hold still now.” Hilda has you in her grip as she plunks you down in your chair and starts carefully applying some gloss to your lips. “There. How is it?”

You mush your lips together. They aren’t tingling or stinging. They don’t feel like they are getting fat. She pulls your mirror from your dresser to show you your lips.

“They’re just shiny.” You say, looking confused.

“Shiny is healthy. Gloss makes your lips slippery. It’s really good for you in the winter. When the cold air hits them, they stay soft and won’t peel. Your lips are really pretty. They’ll be lined up around the building wanting to get a turn to kiss those cute shiny lips.” The pinkette grins.

“But this is a dance. Where is the kissing coming from? Do I have to? I’m so confused.” You plunk back down on your chair with a big frown.

“Listen and listen good. Pretty soon we’re going to graduate, everyone is going to go their own way and you’re my friend and I’m just trying to help you get the most out of life. The ball isn’t just a celebration for nobles. It’s a chance to get to know the other students better in a different environment, a casual and fun environment. So many people have met the love of their life at this very same Academy event! Who knows what will happen on that glorious evening? The magic is calling for you, I can hear it!”

You look at her like she has two heads.

“Come on! Loosen up! I told you I will get you through this. Let’s start with the dance lessons. If you are dancing with a guy, he’s supposed to lead. If you dance with a girl, then either of you can lead, just agree who is to lead before you start. So I am going to lead. That means you put your left hand on my shoulder on the same side, and put your right hand into my palm on the other.” She grabs your hand and waits for you to put the other on her shoulder. “Good. Now don’t stomp on my feet, you have socks on, so put your toes on mine so you can follow me. The lead person is going to take their right foot and step forward, since you are following, you take a step back on your left foot. You will be moving backwards mostly, so the lead person watches to make sure you don’t crash into anyone…” Hilda goes through the basics of the box step for the waltz. You don’t quite crush her toes, and just maybe you do get the hang of it a bit. She tells you to look at her face, don’t look down. Stop looking down. Looking down will mess you up. You crash and fall over on the bed laughing once and she makes you get up and try again.

“Enough for your first lesson. You did great.” Hilda smiles. “So tomorrow after breakfast, we hit the dress shop.”

You yawn, “Sure…” and wave as you see her out the door. You would have bad dreams about going to the ball and stomping on everyone’s feet, but you’re too tired to even do that and actually just have a good night’s rest.

-----------------

After breakfast Hilda practically drags you to town.

“Maybe I should just wear pants.” You grumble.

“Come on, you would look so cute!” She giggles.

“Cute is a bunny or a baby chick. I feel more like a silly goose.” You whine.

She hauls you into the dressmakers where a tall redheaded woman with a lowcut red dress assists you. “Hello dahlings.” She greets you at the door. Hilda curtseys, so you do too.

“Madame Palmyre, I’ve brought you another beauty in need of a dress for the ball.” Hilda proclaims.

“Hmmm. Hmmmm. Well. Athena. Hmmmm. No, Artemis! With the shoulders of Atlas. Oooooh. Yes.” Madame coos and ahhs as she walks around you touching your shoulders, lifting your head, raising your arms. “We must measure, quickly!” and shuffles you to the back where you are hastily stripped to your undergarments.

Madame’s hands work at a fast pace. She’s put special strings around various parts of your body, writing numbers down. Hilda stands next to her and they chitter and chatter with each other for a while. You decide to put your clothes back on.

“Lovelies, I shall have it ready two days before the ball. She will be magnifique!” Madame Palmyre raises her right hand with a flourish and a wide smile.

Hilda drags you to the cobbler to see what sort of shoes would be best. You glance at the boots longingly.

“No. “The Goneril girl shakes her head. “Cute. Not clunky.”

“Hilda, I have feet shaped like a duck.” You groan.

“Come on, work with me.” Hilda finally finds the shoes she is looking for. “Check this out. There is almost no heel, the toe is rounded but the way it is made, it gives you room for your wider foot to be comfy. Still cute!”

You look at the shoes, then at your friend. “I know you know what you are doing. I am so clueless. Just promise me I won’t want to cut off my feet by the end of the ball and I will wear whatever you want me to.”

“Gotcha, fam!” Hilda smiles as she puts in the order. The cobbler takes your measurements and says they will be ready next Sunday.

Hilda takes you to the final store of the day, which is great because this is really getting confusing and exhausting and overwhelming.

“Hey Mattie!” Hilda greets the owner. “We’re here for lipgloss and earrings.”

“But I don’t have pierced ears.” You look at her puzzled.

Hilda grins. “You will.”

You are a brave girl in battle. You fight and punch bad guys in the face. Intentionally letting someone stab holes in your ears is a whole different story. You were brave when they created the first hole and stuck the earring through. But when they stabbed your other ear with the needle, the needle that kept getting bigger the more you looked at it, the tears were shooting out of your eyes like rain.

“It’s done, its done. You’re fine! Look! So pretty!” Hilda is patting you on the back showing you the mirror. Mattie gives instructions to turn the earrings frequently and keep them clean. They should be well healed by the time of the ball. She helps you pick out some mint and honey flavored lip gloss.

You feel exhausted and overwhelmed. Not even fresh treats from the bakery tempt you. You just want to go back and hide. And maybe punch out a Duscur bear. Do something more familiar and relaxing.

That night you can’t sleep well. You always sleep on your side and no matter how you crunched up or mauled your pillow it still hurt your ears. You are going to die from lack of sleep long before the night of the ball. That is a welcome end, you think to yourself.

--------------------------

The next morning, dark circles hang heavily below your sleep deprived eyes, you barely make it to class in time. Lysithia notices something different as soon as she comes into the room.

“Your ears are pierced. That is so cute! I’ve been thinking about it. I may do that too some day.” The white haired girl muses.

“Hey (Y/n), Lysithia! Look who has more holes in her head! Just kidding.” Claude says as he taps his own earring while looking at yours.

Hilda strolls into the classroom followed by Marianne. They come to sit beside you.

“My ears are killing me. You better take good notes. I am going to sleep through class.” You warn the mischievous pinkette.

“And you’ll be cute doing it too. Yes, sometimes beauty can be painful, but it will go away soon.” Hilda tries to reassure you.

“I wish I could use magic on it, but it might make your earrings stick to your ears.” Marianne comments looking at her hands.

You rest your hands on your books and your chin on your hands. Nothing is touching your ears and you fall asleep before Hanneman comes in and starts his lecture about crests.

----------------

The excitement surrounding the ball continues. Your stomach starts to twist in knots every time you hear the word “Ball”. You have your new shoes and Hilda makes you practice dancing in them and walking around your room in them so they are broken in enough to not hurt you on the night of the..you know.

Hilda drags you to town the Sunday before the ball to get a fitting for your dress. She’s being a real stinker, because she makes you wear a blindfold so you can’t see it. It comes with a special bustier, lifting your bust to be plump like a partridge (Madame Palmyre’s words). You had no idea what a bustier is in the first place. They picked and primped on you for a few minutes and then took the dress away, letting you get back into your comfy clothes. It wasn’t too uncomfortable, but you certainly wouldn’t battle in the dress, you chuckle to yourself.

Hilda continues with dancing practice. Marianne joins so you can observe them dancing as well. Marianne, the best dancer in the Deer glides gracefully across the floor. You feel like you are stomping around like a moose with four left feet. You are getting better though, you hardly step on Hilda’s feet any longer.

Soon, too soon, the fateful day arrives. The ball is this evening. They have classes in the morning so that everyone can get ready or in your case, panic in the afternoon. You just know you have a fever, you’re sick to your stomach. You should go to the infirmary so they can pronounce you on the brink of death and give a written note excusing you from the…the thing. Class finally ends, before you can escape, Hilda, Annette, and Dorothea grab you and physically take you to Hilda’s room for hairstyling and makeup. You try to excuse yourself because you forgot your lipgloss, but they are on to you and will not let you go. You have no idea how they can fit so many females in the same room and still have room to work on them all. You hope you can escape when getting lunch, but no, they are too evil and have lunch brought in for everyone.

“(Y/n), I have the perfect jewelry to match your look.” Hilda giggles. She holds up gold crescent moon earrings, bracelet, and a matching necklace. Many “oohs” and “ahhs” are heard from the others. The stones in the bracelet are perfect, they are a pale yellow and black, matching the colors of the dress. Hilda sends you off to your room with Annette and Dorothea to get you into your dress. The songstress shows you how to put on the sheer and dotted with gold sparkles thigh high stockings without ripping them, teaching you how to fasten them to the garter belt. They adjust the lacing of the bustier so that you can breathe easily and move, yet your bust is enhanced, which is quite embarrassing, but then you look over at Dorothea and she’s super enhanced and ready to spill over the top of hers any second. Finally they help you lift and pull the dress on. Soft yellow chiffon at the top, gathered under the bust into its empire waist. A black airy stretchy panel starts there and goes to the bottom of the dress, flaring out a bit. The front is just past your knees, the back a few inches above your ankles. It visually pulls your waist in. Dorothea has that perfect hourglass figure with a waist so tiny that you could almost enclose it with your hands. You have much more um, meat, around your waist, the muscles alone make you twice as wide as her, but with the black panel it flares so you really do look, dare you think it, feminine. You thought the slightly puffy sleeves would make your shoulders bigger, but they just give you more freedom of movement. This is the most comfortable and beautiful dress you have ever worn. Madame is a magician.

Dorothea nearly has tears in her eyes. “Our baby looks all grown up.” She sniffles.

“Wow.” Declares Annette. “I need to meet this seamstress. She really knows her stuff. Its like you’ve been magically transformed. If I didn’t know it was you under there (y/n) I would say it was a different person.

“Come on, you are going to make me cry.” You were emotional before, but seeing the whole outfit, you do feel like the princess Hilda wanted you to look like.

Suddenly it is time for everyone to head to the ball. Many of the women head off to meet their dates. Hilda and her date, Marianne, look adorable together. They have the same purple flowers in their hair and their dresses complement each other perfectly. They walk with you toward the sound of music playing. The students are filing into the large room for the dance, the variety of colors and styles are striking. Everyone looks so beautiful.

You wander over to where the Golden Deer have congregated on the side of the room. Raphael is wearing a shirt that fits across his chest, although his muscles in his arms still look like they are about to burst through the sleeves.

“Hey, (y/n). Glad to see ya. You sure look pretty.” Raphael grins. You take it as an amazing compliment, he usually only notices food.

Ignatz is nervously pulling at his collar. “I haven’t been to a Ball before. The monastery really went all out for this. The food, decorations, and presentation are a work of art.”

The house leaders are called to the front accompanied by Hilda, Hubert, and Mercedes. They perform a special dance together that includes changing partners. Of course, Claude has to ham it up by dipping Edelgard who is a bit shocked but recovers well from the unexpected move. The special dance ends and the surrounding students now fill the dance floor.

Leonie sits next to you with a plate of appetizers and sweets. “Go grab some food, (y/n). They have some amazing things on the banquet tables. I tried this gray stuff, it’s delicious.”

You quickly shake your head. “My stomach is so jittery. I’ll stick with apple juice.” You weakly smile as you take a sip.

Looking to the left, there is an anxious Lysithia trying to drag a dressed-up Cyril out to the dance floor. You laugh because he looks more nervous than you. Hilda has Marianne out on the floor, the couple gliding along smoothly like the floor is made of ice. Annette is smiling widely as Ashe is guiding her safely around the other couples. They look too cute.

“Ahem! (Y/n)” you suddenly hear a male standing next to you, breaking you from your trance.

You jump a little in your seat to see the Prince of Faerghus bowing low and asking you for a dance.

You stand up and stammer, “Oh, yes. Thank you.” You place your right hand into his left as he leads you among the dancing couples. Hilda’s dance practice pays off as you have yet to stomp on the Blue Lions leader’s feet or trip over your own. You chat about how happy he is having participated in the rebuilding of Remire and how some day he will rebuild Duscur as well. Just as the song ends, he bends closer to your ear.

“I think Dedue would like to have a dance with you as well. He is a bit shy, but if you wait patiently close by him he may gather enough courage to ask you, unless of course you ask him first.” Dimitri smiles as your face turns completely red.

You can feel the burn of the blush all the way to the back of your neck. You curtsey as the song ends and he leaves to find another partner. You just happen to be close to where Dedue is standing, the tall man is against the wall, his hands behind his back, eyes flitting from couple to couple. You decide to stand not far from the Duscur male.

Watching the students dance, Claude pulls Professor Byleth out onto the floor. You laugh at the shocked look on her face. Balthus is dancing with Manuela. He has a grin from ear to ear as he twirls her around, making her laugh. Perhaps this is what everyone needs, to have a night to forget about their problems and issues going on and simply enjoy themselves, if just for a little while. You find yourself swaying with the music as you look over at Dedue who takes a step towards you.

“Are you enjoying the ball?” Dedue asks softly, smiling pleasantly.

“Yes. I was not looking forward to it, however now that I am here it is nice. It is good to see our friends simply being happy.“ You answer him. “Would you like to dance?”

Dedue bows, “It would be my honor.” He says, taking your hand in his.

He is so incredibly tall. The top of your head is well below his shoulders. You have to crane your neck to look into his face, but it is worth it to see his gentle smile.

The white haired man looks down at you, “You are small.”

You nod as you smile, trying not to laugh because compared Dedue, absolutely everyone is small.

Dedue continues, “You are very strong.”

You blush, mashing your forehead into his chest. This giant man just said you were strong.

He is not finished. “And cute.”

Your ears are burning because you are blushing so hard. You’ve never been cute before. You’re having a hard time looking into his eyes while you are blushing so hard, so you decide to focus your sight on his strong handsome chin. Breathe, don’t forget to breathe.

“You have many wonderful talents. Not only fighting and helping Dimitri.” You tell Dedue, daring to look in his eyes again. “In the village I was impressed by your construction skills. Your assistance helped us complete more buildings than we had originally planned. Thank you.”

You both smile at each other as you continue to dance for the rest of the song, as it ends, you curtsey, he bows.

Before you take one step toward exiting the dance floor, Claude mysteriously appears behind you, taking your right hand in his. He kisses the back of your hand.

“May I have this dance, my Deer?” Claude smiles widely at you.

“I cannot say no to our Leader-man. That would be against the rules. Not that you pay much attention to rules, Claude.” You laugh as you place your left hand upon his shoulder.

Dancing with Dimitri and Dedue had been proper and elegant. Their steps carefully measured, in perfect time with the music. Dancing with Claude is like holding on to a leaf in a whirlwind. You moved up, then down back then right then spun and twirled. One time he had spun you around you thought he was trying to fling you into the middle of the orchestra. You think it strange, then funny, then you begin to laugh. He twirls you away from him, then pulls you to twirl the opposite way around toward him, your chest lightly crashing into his as you laugh together.

His steps suddenly fall back in with the tempo of the music, you following. Your laughter calming, you gasp a bit as you are slightly out of breath, and dancing very closely with Claude. You feel his right arm around you, his fingers close to the center of your back, his chest is warm against you.

“Hilda told me that if I play my cards right that I might get to dance with a beautiful princess tonight.” Claude purrs softly in your ear. “I think I have a winner here.”

You blush profusely, trying to look away from his dazzling emerald eyes and failing. Claude’s grin is as wide as you have ever seen it. Suddenly the music concludes. The orchestra takes a brief break.

He bows and you curtsey back.

“Thank you, princess (y/n).” Claude Grins.

“Thank you, Duke von Riegan.” You smile.

Hilda runs up to drag Claude off to gossip about who knows what as you grab a seat and catch your breath. You will have to honestly thank Hilda for making you go to this. You catch your breath in the quiet during the orchestra’s break. Your heart has simmered down after beating at such an excited rate for so long.

You glance about the room. Looking left you see the orchestra has returned, preparing to begin, to your right you see two different redheaded gentlemen headed your direction. Oh my…

#fe3h #Fire Emblem Three Houses #feth #fe3h x reader #golden deer #fe16 #claude von riegan #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dedue

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itsuki-minamy · 4 years ago

Text

“K - THE FIRST STORY”

CHAPTER 13: ADDY (Complete)

* K - The First Story (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

His world was made up of many books and his sister.

Immediately after being called a genius brother, his life changed. They took him out of a school where ordinary children gathered and told him to study in a place where all the people around him were adults. There was no dissatisfaction or loneliness about it. He did not find anything funny in the school lessons that tried to teach what he already knew in a simple and one-sided way, and even in an environment without children of the same age, there was no problem as long as he had his older sister.

For him, a large number of books was better than a teacher, and the knowledge he gained from discussions with his sister became more and more profound. With his sister, he was absorbed in learning various things with his intellectual curiosity. The adults around them generously gave them what they needed to learn.

They told him to take part in the German military investigation when he was fifteen and his sister was seventeen.

They joined the military investigation team as requested. It was a tribute to the fact that they were given an environment to learn, and he also thought that the research and development site would be a place where they could play an active role.

Starting with the development and design of new weapons in the Artillery Board, they achieved several results. Apart from military research and development work, they wrote several treatises and obtained a doctorate. The teenage brothers' medical advancements were well received and sought after in the military, architecture, industry, and many other fields, and they did well everywhere.

It was in 1943, when he was 20 years old, that they were appointed chief and deputy director of a strange investigation.

"This is the Slate."

In the basement of a church in Dresden, he crossed his arms in front of the huge stone. Next door, his sister, Claudia, looked at him with a serious expression.

"Yes. This was embedded in the innermost wall of this underground worship hall until two years ago. There were rumors that a believer might see a miracle, and the institution of 'ancestral inheritance' excavated it. Due to this size, they did not carry it out and keep it here. Two months ago, in front of the guards, the same miracle that the believers saw happened."

He stood with his head held high when he heard the words of an investigator who was to be a subordinate in this investigation.

"It is a procession of the Holy Sun Han. A few feather insects formed a procession with a bright red light in front of this 'stone slate', and finally they were burned."

Well. The researcher looked deeply.

He approached the "Slate" and gently touched the surface with a geometric maze-like pattern.

It felt like a smooth rock. The hardness did not appear to be that high to the touch. However, the usual method has been found not to harm one.

"I wonder if the 'Slate' emits some kind of energy that affects living organisms. What do you think, sister?"

The older sister squeezed her kind expression, always smiling, and looked at the "Slate" with investigative eyes.

"It is too early to hypothesize that this bedrock itself is energetic. Perhaps the cause of the St. Johann procession was direct contact with the energetic magma or residual heat from the rock. I need a verification multifaceted."

"Yes. It seems that the truth of magma is a long way off, but let's start with the observation. It is very interesting. This 'Slate' has tremendous potential that no one has touched yet."

"I am also curious about the inscription on the stone monument that was excavated with the 'Slate'. The word 'King' written in modified Latin letters."

"I think the investigation begins in that area. It is a good place to probe, but it is very exciting, sister!"

When he returned his smile with his growing expectations and curiosity, she smiled as if she was in awe.

"Addy. You're like a kid again..."

Even if they called him a doctor, he would still be a child. With his sister, he was a free-spirited younger brother who was intellectually curious and enjoyed chasing what was in front of him, much like a child playing with toys.

"I feel like I can do it if you are with me, sister."

That said, the investigation on the "Slate" was extremely difficult.

He was appointed principal investigator of the investigation called "Project König", and his sister was appointed deputy director, and the elite investigators and the most modern equipment were prepared, but it was difficult to see the progress that seemed to be progressing.

To study the miracle, they first had to recreate the miracle. However, there was a long way to go to find out what factors could cause it.

For the moment, it took time to prepare all the measuring equipment, restore and decipher the pieces of the stone monument.

The investigation progressed dramatically after a Japanese officer arrived from Japan, an ally of the Third German Empire, in March of the following year.

Lieutenant Daikaku Kokujoji.

The encounter with him was important in his investigation of the "Slate" and in his life.

"It was an idea that he couldn't reach unless he met the Japanese magic lieutenant."

As he walked down the hall with his research materials, he said that he was ill. The lieutenant walking beside him flirted with a serious face.

"The opinions of the magic side would have been unacceptable to you, but thanks to the fluid understanding of the theoretical system based on the Five Element Thought, the progress of the investigation was rapid."

Lieutenant Kokujoji seemed to come from an "Onmyouji family" and was connected to a path that could only be described as "Japanese magic". The analysis of the "Slate" that the lieutenant had made from that perspective had taken a leap forward in the investigation of the brothers.

The Five Pillars is an idea based on the five elements of wood, fire, earth, gold and water. It seems that the "Slate", which suppresses the original power by sealing one of the items, was simply sealed like this.

The lieutenant used his technique to break a part of the seal and gave him knowledge. To be honest, he was too unknown to come to a full understanding, but he was able to continue developing equipment to operate the "Slate", and his sister and he built the theory of the energy that the "Slate" possesses.

"I don't think science is everything. If you stick only to the world you are aware of, you cannot wait for development. Thanks to the lieutenant, my world has expanded and I am sure it will expand even more in the future. W deflection modulator seems to be able to start early next year if it is in this condition."

He and the lieutenant were in the process of carrying out the institute's reports.

The Institute of the "König Project" uses the basement of the church where the "Slate" was found as it is. The place that should have been harsh is sacred because it is buried with various research equipment and materials. The air had completely vanished, but it was a familiar place to him, like his nest. In fact, his sister and he were building a house in a corner of this church. It was a small place for the brothers to live while they remodeled.

"Addy."

He hears a soft female voice. When he saw her, Claudia was across the hall.

The older sister who left the area where they lived approached them with a short run.

The lieutenant who stopped next to her seemed to stiffen his spine and was a little nervous. But this was not a bad tension. It is a thoughtful attitude of a young man towards a woman of strange age, and a reaction of a man named Kokujoji Daikaku towards a woman named Claudia Weismann who is "a little excited".

When she arrived in front of them, she first bowed slightly to the lieutenant. Her silver hair flowed smoothly from her shoulders. She had a soft smile on her gentle and delicate face.

His sister's facial expressions and movements were very graceful, but this is a bit different than when they were alone. In front of him, she came out more "squeaky", but with the lieutenant, she became a little softer and more feminine. A woman named Claudia Weismann was shown in front of a man named Daikaku Kokujoji, like a cute kitten.

"Thank you for your hard work, Lieutenant Kokujoji. Addy, are you ready to go to Berlin?"

"Yes. These are all supplies to bring."

He slightly lifted the box of supplies he was holding on his arm.

He was about to go to the party headquarters in Berlin to report on the current status of the "König Project". His sister and he were heading to Berlin with the lieutenant to explain that the long-defeated "Slate" investigation had finally progressed.

When he got up from the basement and opened the church door, it was raining outside. Large raindrops fell to the ground.

"It's raining. It's bad if the material gets wet..."

"No problem. I have an umbrella. Use it."

The lieutenant said that and opened an umbrella.

It was a red Japanese umbrella.

The skeleton was made of bamboo and lined with elegant red Japanese paper. The waterproof Japanese paper had a low sheen.

"Wow, a Japanese umbrella? It's cool."

"It's called an umbrella."

His sister, not the lieutenant, replied him, who gave a voice of admiration.

His sister had become thoroughly familiar with Japanese culture since she met the lieutenant. After the lieutenant sorted the Japanese ingredients that he received from his homeland, she became very interested in Japanese food, and had recently been thinking about it herself.

His older sister slid her slender finger over the bamboo handle of the lieutenant's umbrella.

"This is the first time I have seen something real. The skeleton is very beautiful."

His sister looked happily at the umbrella with a face that seemed delighted. The sound of raindrops falling on Japanese paper was a bit different from the sound of an ordinary umbrella and was pleasant to the ear.

"I want to go to Japan one day. In fact, I will see the culture and climate of the country where the lieutenant was born and raised."

His sister's suggestion made his heart stand out.

"I like it! Lieutenant, please give us a guide at that time."

She wondered if she would get a small answer, like a little carefree, but the lieutenant moved the military cap a little to hide his eyes from her and replied: "Yes.", in a shy way.

"I'm sure you will like it."

His sister and he looked at each other and smiled.

The three of them huddled like little birds in the lieutenant's red umbrella and walked a short distance to the car in a playful way.

The lieutenant was a collaborator in the investigation and at the same time the only friend to him and his sister.

The presence of the lieutenant blew a new breeze on both brothers who lived in a closed world with a wide range of knowledge, dedicated to study and research from a very young age.

Of course they talked about the "Slate" investigation, but they also talked a lot about other things.

The lieutenant listened with interest to the story of the investigation that his sister and he had done so far, and both he and his sister loved hearing the story of Japan from the lieutenant. The discussion with the lieutenant, who gave a sharp opinion from a different point of view than his sister, tended to be enthusiastic.

When the investigation got off to a good start, they had more work for their investigators than the lieutenant, and they loaned several books to the lieutenant who used to have more time. The lieutenant was a good reader, he read romantic poetry books that don't look good on his face, he read military books that fit his face and other books like history books, literature, plays, political science books, books of economy and several specialized books. He read anything. For Christmas, he also loaned her the first edition of "A Christmas Carol" that he read as a child. It was nice to see that lieutenant reading the fairy tale with a serious face.

He liked the printing of the book the lieutenant had.

Initially, the party headquarters in Berlin, rushed towards the outcome of the "König Project" and eager to hear the report, gradually waned interest in the investigation. The war situation deteriorated and there was no space to devote to research and other non-immediate effects.

Still, he was not told to stop the study. They continued the investigation of the "Slate", they left it half abandoned and unexpected. In a war that was to be ruined like an avalanche, they lurked in the underground laboratory of a quiet church in Dresden, on an isolated island, as they watched the violent muddy currents around them.

It may sound unscrupulous, but for him, the time spent there was a modest amount of happiness. He was able to dream the biggest dream of his life in a miserable time.

He hoped that, if this dream were to come true, it would glow in an era closed to darkness, leading to the realization of a world where everyone can be happy, regardless of war, enemies, or allies.

Almost a year after the lieutenant's arrival in Germany, the experiment that he believed in took shape and that led to the realization of that dream.

Based on the theory brought up by the lieutenant, his sister-designed W deflection modulator was completed by the end of the year. The functional test had been repeated since the beginning of the year and the results were obtained.

"Today, a formal initial experiment of the 'Slate' will be conducted with the presence of the lieutenant."

Before going to work, he put on a new lab coat to get excited. Commuting to work was just a short walk down the hall to institute. As he dressed in the living room shared with his sister, he suddenly noticed the carved wooden doll that was carefully displayed on the shelf and smirked.

It was a hand-carved klippe for him, the lieutenant, and everyone in the lab at Christmas. A set of dolls showing the Nativity scene. Centered around the Virgin Mary and Christ, Saint Joseph, the Magi and the angels are aligned. Between them, the two magicians, Gaspar and Melchor, were the work of him and the lieutenant. The personality and characteristics of each creator were reflected in strange ways, and it was strange that he and the lieutenant seemed to be lined up with mysterious faces.

It was the Christmas they held to hold their breath during the war, but that night, where he rode around the klippe he made for his sister, and a little gift with his sister and the lieutenant, was probably the most fun he'd ever had, can have been a holy night with hope for the future

Hope, yes, hope. He had hope beyond the miracles that this "Slate" brought. The lieutenant often raised concerns due to his personality, but is also passionate about the possibility of the "Slate."

He had never had a friend, but he thought he would be fine if he was with his older sister, but found the joy of working toward the same goal as his friend.

"Today I have to show the results."

Hoping the world would change, he turned over a new lab coat and headed for the "Slate".

That day there was tension between the investigators around the "Slate" due to an experiment that left an official video record to inform the top management.

"Ready to measure."

"Checking the Camera Operation."

"There is no abnormality on the 'Slate'."

"You can start the experiment."

"What about the example mouse?"

"Dr. Weissman will bring it in now."

With the serious voices of the aspirants flying around and the cage with the mouse in it, he walks to the experimental field connected to the "Slate".

The back of the mouse in the cage was marked in blue with ink. This mouse was a small creature with great "potential" that woke up during the "Slate" test the other day.

An experimental field, a dozen white mice had already been released into a large mouse maze almost 10 meters long, and they moved as they wished.

After confirming the situation, he lifted the mouse bearing the blue mark from inside the cage as if picking it up with both hands.

When he looked up, she found a serious-looking lieutenant standing in front of the experimental field. That day, it was the first time that he would witness the results of an experiment. After involuntarily smiling, he gently stroked the back of the mouse in his hand.

"Alright, it's time, little mouse. Show the good points to the lieutenant from Japan."

Showing the mouse he was holding, one of the researchers asked the lieutenant to listen.

"It is an experimental organism of the EX-Alpha group. It is under the influence of the 'Slate'."

EX-Alpha, that's what the "King" shows engraved on the stone monument excavated with the "Slate".

He gently left the mouse in a labyrinthine experimental field. An investigator in charge of the recording announced the start of the experiment.

"The blue mouse is ready."

The mouse was clearly different from the other mice that roamed the maze in an irregular manner. Lifting and wiggling his little nose, he catches the light of reason in his eyes and look around.

Suddenly, the "Slate" began to emit a faint blue glow. Just by looking at the sacred blue light from the "Slate" that had been there for a long time, he felt the unholy joy of receiving a colorful reaction from a person who had refused to approach for a long time.

A blue mouse in the experimental field was stained with blue light in response to the glare from the "Slate".

The bright light was also generated in the air one meter above the blue mouse. A sword-shaped crystal appeared from the round blue light.

"There is a reaction to the 'Slate'."

"Sword-shaped glow confirmation."

As the researchers watched, the blue mouse stood on its hind legs, wearing a blue light, and looked at the sword that appeared above it.

It was a beautiful blue sword with a hard mechanical shape. To humans, the little sword would appear huge to the mouse. The sword gleamed solemnly, point down. He believed that the sword-shaped blue glow is a symbol of "order."

After a while, the blue mouse started running through the maze of the experimental field without hesitation.

He never hit a dead end or wander in the same place. With a movement of being convinced of the way forward, he ran through the maze without hesitation.

Then the other mice moving through the maze suddenly changed their movements. They began to run with will and determined stride, and followed the blue mouse.

The mice formed a group and began to take in the same blue light as the blue mouse running in front.

The mice quickly went through the maze in the shortest distance, and when they reached the open area, they lined up behind the blue mouse and stood on its hind legs.

It was a strange sight. It didn't look like the action performed by a mouse, and he wondered if it was a mouse-shaped toy made by a human. However, this was the power of the group with the EX-Alpha of an individual "King". The group, led by the "King", with its sword-like blue glow, exhibited controlled demeanor and abilities comparable to trained human soldiers.

The lieutenant overseeing the experiment was impressed.

"Incredible! Will such power appear in humans?"

"Sorry, but this is just the tip of the iceberg."

Satisfied with the lieutenant's reaction, he smiled. He began to explain with an excited heart, illustrating on the board.

"The strength of the link with the "Slate" is proportional to the complexity of the brain. To be more precise, the deviation from the law of chance creates a force field that envelops the Beta bodies in the vicinity, as it increases its intensity in the form of a geometric progression. As a result..."

"Will an army of super humans be born...?"

The lieutenant said in a heavy voice.

Certainly, that is why the party is investigating the "Slate". Bring the miracle of the "Slate" to humans, create immortal soldiers, form an invincible army, and finally create an immortal realm of the Aryan scientific race with the "Transcendental Master Race". Of course, he knew that "miracles" were needed to reverse the crisis.

But besides that, he denied the lieutenant's words.

"No, lieutenant."

He wrote "Freude!" on the blackboard and laughed at the lieutenant.

"This will bring happiness to everyone."

What he saw was not the victory of the country. This "Slate" shouldn't be used for something so small. What he saw was the happiness of humanity that would enter a new horizon after ending such a foolish war.

When the lieutenant answered something, there was an explosion.

"Red mouse, shot down!"

One of the investigators yelled.

When he saw it, a mouse maze that was not the experimental field where he was filming exploded and broke.

A mouse with a red mark on its back lay in the rubble of a maze that was broken and strewn across the ground.

The power of the red mouse seems to have escaped. A red, sword-shaped glow spawned in the air a meter above him.

The red mouse had been confirmed to have a tough temperament and the ability to provoke a firing phenomenon. Since he doesn't do well with the blue mouse, he let him play in a remote-placed maze, but it may have been stimulated by the generation of the sword-shaped blue glow.

He giggled cheating as he pondered the fact that he should have kept it in a separate room, and he heard a woman's voice saying "Addy!"

Perhaps he rushed after hearing the explosion, his sister was standing. Recently, his sister was doing research on her own and she was often in charge of the "König Project".

As always, he was glad to see her face and shouted: "Sister!", and raised his hand. The lieutenant was worshiping in silence.

His sister ignored him and spoke to the lieutenant.

"That... is there a problem with my little brother?"

"I just showed you the experiment. Right, Lieutenant?"

"We have confirmed the remarkable results. It is truly surprising."

"Well! But the lieutenant thinks these kids are like tools of war or something! It's terrible, isn't it?"

When he made a fool of himself, his sister yelled at him, scolded him like a son, and pinched his side hard.

"You shouldn't say such things out loud. We are receiving a stipend for your research."

"That hurts, sister!"

The older sister who scolded him like when she was alone with her brother, she remembered being seen by the lieutenant, and she smiled a cute smile that seemed to repair itself when she hastily let go of her hand.

"Ah... Lieutenant Kokujoji. Please... ignore what I just said."

She wondered how he reacted to her. The lieutenant, who always maintained his strict demeanor, wandered his gaze in slight consternation and replied.

"Hmm... Don't worry, I don't understand technical jargon anyway."

Before the serious answer, his sister and him, looked at each other and laughed at the same time.

In front of them laughing, the lieutenant was trying to put on a serious and expressionless expression, but when he saw his sister, he lowered his gaze a bit embarrassed.

The miracle caused by the "Slate" would create a world where everyone was happy. It was the day that the dream they had begun to take concrete form and he took the first step.

It was supposed to be like this.

Dresden was a city that remained beautiful during the long war, with little damage from air raids.

Many Germans said that Dresden, which had nothing to do with the munitions industry and had little military importance and was lined with beautiful historical buildings or had high cultural value, would not be damaged by airstrikes.

It happened on February 13, 1945.

A myriad of Lancaster bombers flew over Dresden, showering blocks and incendiary bombs.

The city became a sea of fire and many people died. They were evacuated to the bomb shelter, but many of them were vaporized.

The city of Dresden, where the anti-aircraft guns were no longer working when the air defense organizations moved to the front, was left unprotected and unilaterally conquered.

His sister, Claudia Weismann, also died there.

"Sister! Sister!"

A roar shook the underground laboratory intermittently. The smoke rushed in and visibility was poor. The upper church could be on fire. The air was terribly hot. It was painful from the lack of oxygen.

He moistened the washcloth with the jug beside the bed, covered his mouth, and crawled across the floor.

His sister was not in her room. Recently, his sister seemed to be studying the "Slate" from another direction by herself. Not being in the room probably meant that she was with the "Slate". He whispered to his consciousness from afar and crawled desperately forward.

"Sister! Uh, ugh…"

As a consequence of calling his sister and screaming, he inhaled smoke and suffocated.

Still, he didn't stop and called his sister many times in a weak voice.

It took an enormous amount of time to walk down the corridor, which would normally walk too fast, and push the door to the lab room with the "Slate" to open it.

Immediately after that, heat rushed from the hall to the point that it was incomparable to the hallway. He accidentally closed his eyes. He managed to open his eyelids, which he didn't want to open to protect his eyes from the heat, and he saw the scene from the hallway that was in the lab.

The roof had fallen.

The collapsed rocky shoreline was crushing the experimental equipment. It was the "Slate" and the body of the woman that collapsed in front of it that left a safe form.

"Sister!"

He ran as best he could and hugged her. His sister's body had lost all power and felt heavy. She had almost no scars on her body and she closed her eyes with a calm expression to sleep, but she was not breathing. There was no pulse.

His sister, Claudia Weissman, was dead.

On the roof of the collapsed hall, the part of the church on the floor was raging with fierce fire. The air was boiling. The moment the roof came off, he breathed in the hot air that had entered, he burned his throat and suffocated.

He was looking up in a daze as he held his sister.

He couldn't think of anything. They, who were said to be the two-headed geniuses of the Third German Empire, were once again unable to think of anything, and one was useless and vaguely gazed at the sky.

The flame swirled. The roof of the church had already disappeared, either from flames or bullets, and he could see the sky beyond the flames.

The bomber was flying. Although that was hell, they never got tired of it and kept dropping bombs. From above, despair fell one after another.

He vaguely thought that he wanted an umbrella.

A soft umbrella that would protect him from this despair.

One rainy day, he remembers that the three of them got into the Japanese umbrella that the lieutenant was carrying.

The lieutenant protected him and his sister from the rain, while he wet his shoulders and back.

The sound of the rain hitting the umbrella was soft.

His sister was laughing happily.

(I want to go to Japan one day.)

When he realized it, he didn't feel the heat or the pain that had been bothering him.

He looked at his body slowly.

His body glowed pale silver.

He looked away from him. The "Slate" also emitted the same silver light as his body. He knew that scene. That was a luminescence phenomenon that occurred when an EX-Alpha individual was born in an experiment with mice, in which a W shift modulator activated the "Slate".

He looked up again.

A silver light was born in the night sky where black and red mixed reflecting the color of the flame.

The light fell apart and spread like an umbrella.

The umbrella of silver light that appeared above his head glowed for a while and then lost its shape and became the shape of a pointed down sword.

It was a sword-shaped glow.

A huge sword-shaped silver glow that was incomparable to what appeared on the mouse, was silently floating in the night sky that dispersed despair.

A bomb fell next to him. He could feel it. The detonation would take his eyesight and the scattered projectiles would hit his body.

However, that which would have ripped his limbs apart in an instant, did not inflict a single scratch on his body.

He, his sister's body, and the "Slate" that stood abruptly while the surrounding substances could not retain their original form, were there without any damage.

He was an EX-Alpha individual, that is, the "King" who displayed the stone monument, the "transcendental master race" who sought the party headquarters, and had the power to "make everyone happy". It was what he believed.

"Sister?"

He shook his sister in his arms and called out to her. If he had become a "King" with paranormal power, he now only had one wish.

"Sister, get up."

By incorporating others into the feedback loop of the causal bias generated by the EX-Alpha individuals, a new causal bias is generated and 8 individuals are produced. In other words, it is possible to give birth to a "member" who has shared the power of the "King".

He instinctively knew how to do it. The brain naturally understands more than the knowledge acquired as a result of research and experiments. Upon becoming an EX-Alpha individual, a strong resonant action occurred between him and the "Slate", and what could be called the memory of the "Slate" was flowing.

"Sister, take my power. I won't hurt myself anymore. The sore throat that just burned me is gone. I won't hurt myself or die. So, sister, you too."

He developed his own strength and continued to pour it into his sister. Waiting for an answer from his sister. If possible, he wanted to give everything he had to his sister.

But his sister never opened her eyes. His sister was dead. The power of the "King" cannot bring the dead back to life. Everything was slow.

He was supposed to be the "King", and he only held the corpse of a single family member helplessly.

How long had it been like this?

Before he knew it, the hellish night was over and the bombardment had stopped.

The sky was white and the early morning air was rapidly cooling the rubble of the city, which had been set ablaze by fierce fire.

He heard the sound of military boots running in the quiet that made him think that all the creatures had died.

When he raised his face, he saw a lieutenant out of breath.

The lieutenant was supposed to have been in Berlin, but hurried after hearing the news of the Dresden bombing.

He laughed softly at the lieutenant who stood up with a clear face. His cheeks shook his smile, and for the first time he realized that he was crying all the time.

"Lieutenant. My sister..."

His sister's body was already cold.

The lieutenant moved to Berlin with him, which was completely useless.

The Dresden bombing was divided into several waves and continued into the next day, resulting in a tremendous number of deaths. Due to the large number of evacuees and refugees in Dresden, which was thought to be safe, it seemed difficult to determine the exact number of deaths. Many of the bodies were burned by a whirlwind of fire and suffered indistinguishable damage.

For a few days, he was dumbfounded. The lieutenant told the party headquarters that he had become the first of what they called a "transcendental master race" by the "Slate." In fact, at that time, he was like a wooden puppet, far from being a "transcendental master race" or a "King". As an investigator that he was pitifully burned to no avail, he was left unguarded.

"The reason for the bombing was found."

One day, a few weeks after the Dresden bombing, the lieutenant approached him and said.

"It was a leak of information. The allied forces that seized the existence of the 'Project König' decided that it was a threat to eliminate."

The lieutenant's voice was clear. No anger or sadness appeared on the surface, and he made a calm, unwavering and firm voice.

"Weissman. If you still desire the realization of your ideals, abandon your human life from this moment on."

Hearing the lieutenant's voice, he couldn't even lift his face as he sat on a chair and was choking.

"He reigns as the only 'King' and rules all human beings. He condemns the fools. The equality and prosperity of humanity can only be achieved by having the power of ruin beyond human intelligence."

He understood the lieutenant's words. They had been thinking of ways to make the miracle of that "Slate" desirable as they progressed with the investigation. That was probably the lieutenant's answer.

On the other hand, he had been thinking about it. How to make everyone happy.

But now he couldn't quite remember his thoughts.

"Fulfill the "King's" responsibilities."

He couldn't think of his thoughts. Of course he couldn't even put it into words. Still, he had the feeling that the lieutenant's words were "different."

He just shook his head wordlessly.

"Actually…"

The lieutenant said in a low voice and took the holster from his waist. He pull out the pistol and point it at him in one fluid motion.

"If you don't, I will. But there shouldn't be two 'kings' on earth."

The lieutenant's finger went off. He looked up and slowly compared the barrel, which was aimed at his forehead, with the face of the lieutenant, who was determined to look.

"A bullet... Is that the punishment for the great dream we had?"

"No. Weissman, you don't have to suffer anymore. If your dreams are sins, I will take full responsibility and punishment."

The lieutenant's voice remained calm. It already seemed to carry everything. The prayers of the late Claudia, the work of his trying to get rid of the great responsibility of the "King" and the lives of the people of Dresden who were burned due to the investigation.

"As the only 'King', I will carry all the hatred and resentment of the earth on my back and fall into hell. Therefore, I will not meet you in that world... Say hello to Claudia."

The lieutenant fired.

Shots rang out, but the bullet missed his forehead.

The bullet was still in midair in front of his head, as if it had driven into a transparent wall.

"It's useless…"

He said he, powerless in words.

"That's not good... Lieutenant, fear cannot make people happy."

The form of the dream he had was no longer uncertain. But he did not want to make the in-between world brought about by the rule of a lonely "King" beyond dreams.

"Give me time. The answer is... I'm sure there is a way to happiness."

The bullet that was parked in the air exploded and disappeared. No matter what the shell is, he was already a "King". Nothing could hurt his body, he was the "King".

The lieutenant waited without lowering the weapon.

"Do you think I can believe your words right now?"

"I do not know..."

He got up slowly and managed to laugh at the lieutenant, feeling that he was crying.

"If she was my older sister, I'm sure she would say that."

At that moment, the expression of the lieutenant that he hadn't trembled for a long time was distorted.

He said that with a mixture of anger, sadness and various other emotions and stopped.

In the end, the lieutenant never let go of the passion he had been through, but simply turned his back on him silently.

Two days later, he was kidnapped by a command unit of the United States Army.

"Dr. Adolf K. Weissmann, right?"

The men who intervened were camouflaged in German army field clothes, but it soon became clear that they were American special forces who came to seize the technology related to the "Slate".

Information about the "König Project" was leaked to the Allies, which was revealed in the event of the Dresden bombing. Not only did the "Slate" study eliminate the potential threat from the Third German Empire, but the United States seemed to have been interested in the technology itself. It was a plan that was about to be abandoned by the German center, but he vaguely thought it was ironic.

They stopped and seized him, and began a march into the mountains with the goal of joining the Allied forces clinging to the Western Front.

He did not resist at all. He was not afraid of the multiple weapons pointed at him, they handcuffed him and a soldier grabbed his arm roughly. It would take the power of the "King" to break the steel handcuffs that had been placed on both wrists. He was afraid of him.

It was not the judgment that he should hide the fact that he was a superhuman created by the "Slate". But stronger than that, the reason why he made the decision not to resist was an unmistakable "fear".

Without using the power of the "King", he killed his emotions and was attracted as he was, and on the second day of walking through the mountains, the march of the commando was greatly disturbed.

It seemed that the enemy had already started to take over his personality. The command unit, which had no land, was blocked by the pursuit unit, and gradually driven east, facing its original destination, the Western Front.

If he headed east as he was, he would reach the Eastern Front. While American and British troops were invading the Western Front, the Eastern Front was pushing the Red Army of the Soviet Union to the point where an all-out attack on Berlin was imminent. For the US commando unit, joining the Soviet Union's Red Army ran the risk of failing in the mission of stealing Adolf K. Weissmann's special confidential information from the Red Army's side, or worse, assassinating all members of the unit.

Looking at the faces of the Commando soldiers, who gradually became impatient and frustrated, he kept thinking vaguely the entire time.

If they could complete their mission and he was handed over to the United States Army, would he tell them about the "Slate" as they asked? Still, if they believe that "Slate" can bring happiness to humanity and he entrusted them with that dream, it was not an impossible option. He was like a salesman, but in any case, this war would soon be over.

On the other hand, what should he do if they joined the Red Army and fell into a life-threatening situation, or if they were captured and executed by a pursuit unit? Apart from the former, the latter was not something to be avoided for him, who was a German military officer. Rather, he would normally consider being rescued and punished by enemy soldiers a pleasure.

(No, Lieutenant. Everyone will be happy.)

The words he said circulated in his head many times.

Without an answer, he wandered through the forest surrounded by soldiers who were being chased and tired, that night they threw him directly to the ground and he fell asleep.

Feeling the cold that permeated his body from the cold ground, he dreamed of a conversation with the lieutenant again in a light sleep. From that day on, he remembered the exchanges many times and rebelled.

"He reigns as the only 'King' and rules over every human being. Condemn the fool. Human equality and prosperity can only be achieved by having the power of ruin beyond human intelligence."

The lieutenant said that in a strict voice.

What is a prayer? What is damnation?

For example, is the enemy who killed his sister and burned the people of the city of Dresden a sinner to condemn?

"Fulfill the "King's" responsibilities."

He denied with his head. He just shook his head weakly. Like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Lieutenant, fear cannot make people happy."

So how could they be happy? He believed that the potential power of the "Slate" would make people happy. What should he do to make everyone happy?

"The answer is... I am sure there is a way to happiness."

Really?

Could he really find something like that? No, did he really want to find the answer in the first place? Can he realize the method of happiness when he search for it and find it?

To himself with such muddy despair.

For himself bound by sadness, anger and fear.

If he really wanted to make everyone happy, what could he do now?

He was surprised when they called him and woke up from his dream.

"Hey, get up."

There was a grumpy voice. Realizing that the soldier had kicked him in the back, he slowly looked around him. The vague head of awakening slowly recognized reality.

"Go to the Captain."

The soldier said coldly and turned his back on him.

He got up off the ground in handcuffs. He went to the commando captain as he was told, looking at the passing soldiers, wearing dirty clothes with damp earth and leaves.

The handcuffs were heavy and would normally hurt his wrist, but his skin wasn't hurt at all. Nobody cared about the body of a prisoner of war, so he wouldn't suspect him.

"You called me, Captain?"

The captain was looking at the map surrounded by his subordinates. He looked at him with a flat face that didn't show his emotions.

"I'm sorry for the circumstances, Dr. The pursuit team is getting very close. Today we will move soon without waiting for the night to pass."

"Is that so."

"Dr., please provide topographic information to supplement this map."

"I'm not familiar with this area, so I won't be very helpful."

When he answered flatly, the NCO next to him showed frustration with the situation and hatred for him, and bit him.

"I can't take it, hey, stand up! Are you a genius and didn't even memorize a map of the country?!"

"Yes, Charlie. What happens when you say you know something you don't know?"

The captain controlled in a calm voice, but the surrounding NCOs tuned in to a man named Charlie and made a barking voice.

A voice that fears parting with the Red Army and contempt are mixed.

Dr. Occult Charlie, who was really delusional and investigating the "mass production of psychic bodies" pointed it out and cursed. The officers agreed and showed frustration.

US military executives may have had some interest in the "Slate", but for those executives tasked with stealing that information, it was a perception where life was at stake.

He was listening to his words in silence. There was pain. The dreams he had were scorned, pushed away and spit on. There was anger and sadness, but it was stronger and filled with a feeling of emptiness to give up.

The captain opened his mouth after hearing the resentment of his subordinate.

"I am also going to avoid joining the Red Army. I was thinking of getting further away from the chase, but they were unexpectedly quick. If we go any further, I would be behind the German front. Before that happens, I will look for terrain that will hide the entire unit. and I will move on to the pursuit unit. I will confront them and clear the way if necessary. Then, we will force the march to the western front. That is the mission."

With a dignified voice, the captain declared so. The NCOs cheered for inspiration from the stated life policy.

It was a thin thread of hope. The entire unit was desperately trying to hold on to the thread. However, he knew that the thread was easy to break, and that if the thread did break, death would be waiting for him, and everyone here, not just him, would hate him.

He was reflecting on their lives. What were his options?

"As a doctor here, it doesn't matter as far as I can see on this map. A ground where we can hide, please check together."

At the captain's words,

"Okay, that's it."

"Hey, how much did you help kill your countrymen?"

Charlie slapped him maliciously. The captain didn't scold him, but he said to Charlie, "We'll get out of here as soon as the scout gets back. Tell the soldiers.", And he hardened his attitude.

He also skipped instructions to drop off other subordinates, and the NCOs began to move accordingly.

In it, another malicious word hit his ear.

"If only my sister had survived, she could have enjoyed various things while she stalked."

The whole body was full of hair.

Instantaneous anger and hatred filled his thoughts with black, and he was taking a step forward.

The step lightly shook the ground with a loud noise.

He didn't know what the step was for. He didn't, but there was an undeniable killing intent in him at the time.

His sister's smile, the flames of hell that surrounded the city of Dresden, and his cold, hardened body shuddered at the same time.

"What? I mean, let's do it."

Charlie shuddered with a scared face.

What the hell was he going to do?

The passion cooled as fast as the moment it arose.

"No."

He coughed silently and stepped back with the power of the "King" that was about to express his emotions.

He couldn't do anything.

After all, he could do nothing and choose nothing.

(You reign as the only "King" and rule all human beings. Condemn fools.)

(Everyone will be happy.)

"Captain, the map."

He turned her back on everything and muttered in a dead voice.

After that, everyone turned around and didn't become obnoxious or talkative.

He made some supplementary corrections to the extent that he could see from the inaccurate map presented and, as he was told, showed where it seemed most suitable for the troop to hide.

Without including any other intentions, he simply derived and submitted the requested response. Deep in the forest that stretched across the mountains, there was a depression on the north side of the ridge that looked like an indentation. It seemed that there would only be one place where this number of people could hide.

Immediately the troops left and marched into the depression. They reached their destination before dark that day.

Here, they caught up with the pursuit unit approaching from behind and changed the direction of the march to target the Western Front. Since it would be a march of considerable strength to the western front, they had begun taking turns resting while preparing for the engagement when the pursuit unit found them.

But no one was willing to go to bed.

Suddenly, the sound of planes cutting through the air echoed off the trees in the forest and was heard eerily bulging, and the trees near him exploded.

It was a bombing.

Everyone in the unit immediately tried to lie down on the ground, but some were delayed a bit. The next bombardment came in rapid succession, crushing the last like clay dolls.

Within that, he was standing alone.

He quickly realized what had happened.

The impending manhunt was a move to bring the Command into that dead end. Germany decided not to recapture it, but to destroy it.

Without a recommendation of surrender, they unilaterally massacred with the arms deck of the tank unit that he had prepared.

A grenade-like thing hit his cheek and burned him. But he didn't even rip it off and he wasn't affected by anything.

He was stunned when the soldiers around him crouched on the ground and had to wait, trembling as they were hit by a projectile that crushed his body.

Explosive smoke, smoke from the dirt and body parts of the soldiers that were ripped apart by the projectiles splattered, blocking their view.

With the roar that even the screams near him couldn't reach, the smoke in front of him suddenly vanished and he could see Charlie crouched down.

He was crying. His eyes met. Until now, he had only faced malicious and hostile faces towards him. But now, they had all fallen off him and were there in a state of helplessness, trembling from the water that flowed from his eyes and nose.

A projectile entered before he thought of anything about it. Charlie's arms and part of his head grasped right next to him.

He was crying too before he knew it. He began to walk aimlessly, leaving it dripping without drying it.

"What should I do with them?"

There was no one around him who held the shape of a person.

"Everyone, then... should they have forgiven and saved them?"

He had that power. There should have been power so that no one could die.

But he didn't do that. No one was saved. That said, he doesn’t fight anyone.

He did nothing, they did not confront each other, they did not step on them, there was only slaughter.

The person who did it had his own dream, but he was dead.

"What did you want to do...?"

It was the lieutenant who protected him as he exited unharmed by the missile storm.

It was the Japanese lieutenant, Daikaku Kokujoji, who was entrusted with a power by the Führer, organized a pursuit unit and acted as a repellent himself.

The lieutenant who saw him said nothing. He knew the situation he was in and what he did or did not do, but he silently welcomed him.

The captain, who was in command of the pursuit, was terribly surprised to see him intact and protected, but the lieutenant cheated. The commando took him away, but he miraculously escaped just before the bombardment.

The lieutenant gave him winter clothes and rice balls made from rice cooked in Iikura. With the handcuffs removed, he received the rice ball from the lieutenant.

By the way, his sister, who was interested in the Japanese food that the lieutenant brought from time to time, served rice balls and pickles. His sister, who started her own research on fermented foods, which was considered the heart of Japanese food, produced a lot of terrible prototypes, but the pickles were good. Those went well with rice.

The lieutenant's rice ball he ate was sadly delicious.

There were various memories of the lieutenant, his older sister, and the three of them.

The meeting of his older sister and the lieutenant, who brought a new breeze to the world of the two.

Investigation of the "Slate" by trial and error of three people.

The Klippe that he carved with the lieutenant for his sister at Christmas. A little party that night.

Successful start-up experiment of the "Slate".

A dream told on the banks of the Elbe river.

"The "King" will open many possibilities and bring prosperity. With great power, he can provoke violence, or, on the contrary, squeeze it in order. However, he can be a force to protect what is important and, above all, he will change this situation. It has the potential to be anything."

On the banks of the Elbe river, he said that to the lieutenant and his sister. After a successful start-up experiment, he was fascinated by the light of possibility. The light looked like sunlight shining on a dark night.

"The dawn of humanity."

He does not cry anymore.

"Lieutenant."

He called out to the lieutenant as he looked at the half-eaten rice ball.

"EX-Alpha, the individual "King" creates an individual by incorporating others into the feedback loop of causality bias. You can share your strength with different strengths. My power as a "King" can be said to be to be immutable, a power that is unaffected by any tangible power, other than blue that has excellent mastery and red that specializes in destructive power expressed in mice. In other words, my individual B will have similar, if not immutable properties. I thought I would do that for my sister that night, but it was too late. My sister was dead. However, it works in the living. I was alive until then..."

He didn't quite understand what he was saying. Maybe the lieutenant wanted me to blame him.

He did nothing until they found him, because of his anger and the emptiness of his nest. He didn't even resist because he was terrified.

The lieutenant, who was silent the entire time, muttered a single word.

"Isn't there an answer, Weissmann... What do you say, the path of happiness?"

He couldn't return any words.

He was involved in aircraft design when he was on the Artillery Board.

He planned to organize it into an air fleet as a flashy new weapon, but when it was completed, the situation had changed so much that he was put to sleep in a bomb shelter without even flying.

The name of the aircraft was "Heaven".

At Tempelhof airport, on the outskirts of Berlin, he was about to leave with the Himmelreich.

The lieutenant who was walking a little behind him, had a stern look the whole time. The lieutenant knew well that what he was trying to do was not express the departure in neat words, it was just an escape.

"Are you sure you can break through allied air defenses?"

The lieutenant asked in a firm voice.

"Yes. Even at that size, it is possible to adjust the composition of matter and adjust it to me. Then it becomes an unbreakable shell that no one can invade. It is easy to get out."

Even his power, that he couldn't do anything, could easily create an escape route for him. Looking away from his own feelings, he asked the lieutenant.

"Is it okay for the lieutenant to be better than me? After finishing the cleaning, you will return to Japan by submarine."

"Yes."

"Are you really taking the 'Slate' to Japan?"

The lieutenant had already begun to deliver the "Slate" to the Japanese army and carry it out. Nobody was still worried about the abandoned "Konig Project" in the worst case, and he was able to handle it with the authority of the lieutenant.

"Oh. I should have said it by now. If you don't, I will."

The lieutenant's voice was unwavering. However, he was distressed by the lieutenant's determination and told him.

"Will you become 'King'? It's not an easy thing."

"I know." Said the lieutenant.

However, the lieutenant said throwing it out wouldn't help.

That's why he would.

At least to achieve the desired miracle.

Hearing the lieutenant's words, he felt like crying over defeat.

Unlike him, who was so desperate that he couldn't move, the lieutenant faced the light. He wondered if he would really realize the scene of the dawn of humanity that he one day dreamed of.

He narrowed his eyes and looked up at the sky. The color of twilight was spreading as the sun had just dropped beyond the horizon. The night would come soon. He would go to the night sky.

Crushed clouds flowed across the twilight sky.

"Everything flows and disappears. This war is over."

"Nothing ends."

"It's over for me."

Still, the words of a friend declaring that it was not the end under any circumstances, it was the only joy in the cold darkness.

"Finally, I ask again..."

"Bye, Lieutenant."

With his back to the lieutenant, he began to walk.

The distance between the two disappeared.

A huge rigid aircraft shaped like a whale. He walks to where his last home would be, traveling without destination.

"You run away..."

He heard a low voice.

An angry and scolding voice hit him on the back because he hadn't abandoned him during that time.

"You're running away, Weissmann!"

++++++++++

He drowned in the torrent of memories.

"Kukuku." A laugh rang out.

"You ran away. You turned your back on everything and chose not to get involved."

That's how it is.

He sent all his dreams to a single friend and he ran away.

"You didn't choose anything. You didn't save anything. You didn't do anything. You were afraid of your bloated dreams and you threw them all away."

Like a prosecutor reading the indictment, his voice pinpointed the crime.

"I won't blame you."

His soft voice stroking him suddenly, tickled his soul.

"Once again, throw everything away. I will pick it up and use it carefully. Anyway, you are empty. You have no intention of using that power for anything, you just have a surplus. Doesn't your heart seem to no longer is there?"

The voice laughed as he caressed the softest and weakest part of his heart.

"Leave it to me. I'll take all difficulties with you. You can also inadvertently close your eyes and dream of a happy high school student who has no responsibility. You don't have the power or the right to reject me, do you?"

He felt as if he were dragging him slowly to the bottom of the swamp. He couldn't resist, and was tempted to think that it would be easier if he slept like he was, as that voice said.

Yes, he had no power or right. He was a mindless creature who could do nothing, did nothing, and just floated alive. Whether his eyes were open or closed, nothing would change. He was caught up in those arrogant thoughts, and the world was going dark.

However, another voice emerged in his consciousness that was obstructed.

"I haven't given up yet."

"Neko is from Shiro and Shiro is from Neko!"

Kuro. Neko.

They kept looking at him the whole time.

He taught him the strength to never give up. She taught him the power of pure affection.

She gave him a name and kept calling him when no one else had.

As long as they were there, he could not abandon them.

He still didn't know how to be happy, but this time, he wouldn't run away doing nothing.

++++++++++

"Tsk."

The "Colorless King", who was repelled from the boy's body, returned to Kukuri's body with a pitiful voice.

"Kukuri!"

"Well, you're putting it off!"

The fighting voice of Kukuri and Kuro, whose body was taken over by the "Colorless King", was heard far from the boy's ears.

The boy was lying on his back on the floor and was looking vaguely at the ceiling. He still couldn't move well because his consciousness and his body were too big. He breathed quietly, so he was doing his best.

Neko, full of tears, was reflected in the boy's vague vision.

"Shiro! Shiro! Hold on!"

Oh, he wanted to tell her that she didn't have to see him that way.

Kuro, who had abandoned the pursuit of the "Colorless King", knelt beside the boy with a worried expression.

"Don't move! You were just attacked..."

He try to tell him that he didn't need any help. The piece of glass that pierced his abdomen finally fell off and his wound had been healed. Even if he forgot everything and became a helpless high school student, his body had unvarying power.

Before Neko and Kuro's words came out, silver power flashed on the boy's body. The power of the "King" that he obtained under a shower of bombs in Germany in 1945. However, after that, he did nothing and stayed alive.

Neko and Kuro stared at the boy who was glowing silver, speechless.

The boy slowly stood up and smiled to reassure the two with anxious expressions.

"Macht nichts, ich bin unverwundbar. (Don't worry, I'm immortal.)"

He then said that he was not hurt, but his facial expressions remained confused.

The boy kept talking to tell who he was. "Endlich habe ich verstanden. (I finally got it.)"

"So you're really the 'Colorless King'?"

The boy shook his head at the confused Kuro, saying that was not the case.

"Mein... (My name...)"

Only then did he realize that he had just spoken in his mother tongue, German, due to the sudden return of his memory. The boy changed the language to Japanese, which has been familiar to him for the past decades, and responds.

"My name is Adolf K. Weissmann. The first king, the 'Silver King'."

#k #k project #k the first story #k novel

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ficsnroses · 5 years ago

Text

Worried - John Wick x Reader Oneshot

From the Comfort Series of Fluffy Oneshots :)

Word Count : 3.5k

Warnings : So Much Fluff. Angst. Brief hospitalization (nothing serious!) Also, will I ever come up with a creative title?

Summary : On his way to pick up his girlfriend, Y/N, for an evening out, John receives a call from the hospital.

A/N : Alright. I’m nervous about this one because it didn’t quite turn out the way I wanted, but I worked really hard on it & would love to hear what you all think ❤️ This was requested by @cynic-spirit , I hope its alright! I’m not 100% happy with how I approached this request, so I may re write something similar in the future to toy with the concept more. Enjoy!

*Also, I included date outfit pictures at the end, because it’s a fun thing to do, right? It’s cute!*

Spring is near, and the longer evenings are here to prove it. The sun has bid goodbye, leaving a violet hue channeling the sky outside John’s bathroom window. The trees stand in black silhouettes, the smell of apple trees blossoming filters in subtle.

Dog sits at the doorframe, with his paws tucked secure under his resting head, watching John dry his hair with a cotton towel. His chest and torso are peppered with aqua globes, skin still steaming lightly as he’s stepped out the shower. With a towel held around his waist, he grasps Y/N’s favourite cologne of his – a sophisticated blend of spice & wood. He dabs some around his neck, collarbones, and wrists, setting it down for an exchange with a hairbrush.

The sound of his phone vibrating diverts his gaze, to the picture of his love reflecting on his phone screen.

Y/N was facetiming.

Tonight, John was taking her to a nice dinner date at a restaurant by the water. Sure, they’d technically seen each other every night that week, but they hadn’t been able to go out together in a while.

John loved to treat his lady.

Picking his phone up, he accepts the call, holding the camera to his face.

“Hi baby,” he greets her, eyes lighting up, with those beautiful laugh lines crinkling in the corners of his eyes.

“Ooo hello handsome,” She giggles, eyeing his clothing clad, bare chest. “Quick question, are we going somewhere really nice?”

Her beautiful locks shine under the lights, her makeup looks seamless, light, just enough to compliment her elegantly stunning features. John’s heart must have skipped a beat, he still found it hard to believe that this wonderful, amazing women, was all his.

His for the keeping.

John chuckles a bit, running a hand through his fluffy locks. “It’s not formal, but it’s a nice little place. Why?”

“I’m not sure what to wear.” She flips her camera, showing him the array of dresses she’s laid out, a navy blue, a black, and white. “Help me decide!”

John smiles, letting out a content sigh. He let out a lot of those recently, ever since she’d came into his life, made it brighter than what he’d been used to.

“You look beautiful in anything, sweetheart.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, whining.

“John! Can you not be a softie for just one second and help me out?” She sits down on the bed, holding the camera to her face. “Come on, which one do you wanna see me in?”

John lightly scratches his chin, voice deep. “Well, I think you look amazing in white. Makes me go weak in my knees.” He chuckles, giving her a warm smile.

John didn’t know if it was too early, regardless, he’d dream of the day his Y/N would wear a white dress for him, in front of all their family and friends, as he waited for her at the end of the isle.

Someday. Whenever that someday may be.

“Do you want to stay over tonight? Dog misses you.” John proposes, grabbing his beard trimmer.

Y/N snickers, grabbing the white dress on the hanger. “Sure. I miss Dog too. Besides, I like falling asleep beside you way better than here, on my own.” She holds the phone steady in front of her face again. “You’re like, the fluffiest pillow I have.” She giggles again.

John watches her in awe, as always. The way her eyes glimmer when she speaks, the way her tone shifts, highlighting the happiness in her voice. Each word, from her mouth, felt as if a song to him.

His favourite song.

“Glad to be of service.” He winks, letting out a laugh. “Are you almost ready, babe?” He questions, retrieving his hair dryer from the cabinet drawer.

“Yeah, I just need to throw on outfit, and pack a bag for tonight.” She replies, shuffling around her room.

“Aren’t most of your things here already?” John chuckles. “It looks like you own this counter space, not me.” John flips the camera to showcase all her creams and moisturizers, her scented perfumes and skin care routine gadgets. She’d been spending a whole lot of nights at John’s place, leaving her belongings nicely peppered around his bedroom.

“You’re right. I’ll just sleep in one of your shirts.” She bites her lip, looking him in the eyes. “Or maybe, I won’t need one tonight…” Smirking, the tucks a stray hair behind her ear. “Alright then, I’ll see you soon?” She confirms.

John nods his head, replying. “I’ll be right over in an hour. I love you, sweetheart. Don’t forget it.”

“I won’t. I love you too. Bye.” She blows him a quick kiss, ending the call.

Grinning to himself, John blushes at the though of her still, returning to his closet to throw on his outfit for the evening. As each second passes, he anticipates seeing his love soon, being embellished in her company and grace all evening.

Exactly where he loved to be.

With his cellphone propped on the seat beside him, John navigates through the busy New York evening traffic, checking his reflection in the rear view mirror every so often. He runs his fingers through his hair, positioning it just how Y/N liked it.

Before Y/N, John never tried too much to look good. He didn’t care if his hair got lengthier than normal, or if his beard had a few strays in it. But ever since he’d met her, fallen in love with her, he cared. He cared for himself more, tried his best to stay healthy, and presentable.

For her. Because she deserved, to get the best version of him.

She deserved for him to be his best self.

As John drives in silence, his ears pick up the occasional traffic honk, or speeding car beside him. Night has fallen on the city, leaving it to light up brighter than the stars, glowing, glimmering lamp posts and restaurant lights igniting the city streets. He sees couples walk arm in arm, holding hands as they explore the town.

To himself, he smiles.

Smiles, that he had that, finally, for himself. He finally had someone.

To the ring of his cellphone, John snaps out of his thoughts.

An unknown number.

His brows knit in confusion, wondering who it could be. He thinks to ignore it, however, decides against it ultimately, in case it was someone from work.

With his eyes locked on the road, John manages to slide the phone onto speaker, letting wonder lace his tone. “Hello?”

“Hello, sir. Am I speaking with Mr. Jonathan Wick?” A woman speaks on the other end, her voice calm, present, monotone as could be.

“Yes, can I help you?” His deep, ridged voice starts.

“I’m calling on behalf of New York General Hospital. I have you listed as a secondary contact for a recently admitted patient, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?”

In that moment, John felt his heart drop. His eyes widen, and the world around him seems to stop turning. The traffic seems to pause, the city folk seem to cease walking, the stars seem to melt into the darkness above.

The darkness above, seems to swallow John whole.

With his mind terminating to work straight, his heavy, racing voice speaks. “Y/N? Is she alright?! What happened?! I just spoke with her not too long ago, please tell me she’s okay?!” John almost yells, fear overtaking each nerve in his body.

“Mr. Wick, we need you in urgently for an update on her condition, and form work.”

“I’ll be there, I’m coming, I’m coming!” John shouts, breathing heavier by the second. He feels his body run cold, his mind racing a million a second. “Is she okay? Please, Ms., I need to know.” John begs, foot trudging the accelerator to sprint through traffic.

“She’s going to be alright. Unfortunately sir, I can’t disclose anymore information over the phone, for confidentiality.”

John ends the call in fury, throwing the phone across the seat. “Dammnit!” He hollers, to no one but himself.

In a long time, he hadn’t felt this way. He hadn’t felt a single negative emotion, since she’d came into his life. But now, in this moment, he felt, a mixture of everything he hadn’t felt in a while. But most of all,

He felt fear.

He felt fear, for the thought of anything happening to her. Anger, for not being there fast enough. Fright, for not knowing if she was okay.

Guilt. For not protecting her, as he’d promised himself he would, from the second she gave her heart to him.

His body is tense, his fist clenches beside him, his feet only route the path so quick, leaving his mind paces ahead.

He needed his Y/N to be okay. It couldn’t be any other way.

He wouldn’t let it.

As he finds himself at the door of 116, the room the receptionist had claimed to be Y/N’s, John swings the door open.

There Y/N sits, on a chair, with a band aid on her arm, and a juice box propped on the chair beside her.

She looks alright. John makes note, to thank the sky later.

The nurse has just finished her work beside her, greeting John with a warm smile.

“Hi! You must be John. I’m Y/N’s nurse for this evening.” She extends her arm out, for John to shake. “She is perfect, nothing to worry about. Her iron had dropped very low causing a minor fainting episode, but her neighbour called just in time. I’ve given her a stabilizing injection for now, which should restore all her red blood cells over the course of the next few days. She’s all good to go, and ready to be discharged immediately.” The nurse smiles, walking out of the room, leaving them alone.

John looks to her, worry still shone in his eyes, looking her up and down. His mind seems to stay skeptical, unable to believe that she was actually alright.

That what he loved, hadn’t been taken away from him this time.

“John, I’m so sorry.” She frowns. “I’m all okay. See?” She proposes.

John stares at her for a few seconds longer, before walking up to her, dropping to his knees. He kneels in front of her, both his hands coming forward to hold both of hers tight in a clasp, pressing kisses all over her palms, her knuckles, her wrists. He lets out a weary exhale, resting his forehead against their connected hands for a few moments.

“John, you seem shaken up. I’m so sorry, I forgot to take my medicine this morning. I swear it’s really nothing big though, I’m alright. I’m sorry, I should have-”

John cuts her off, with a shake of his head. “It’s okay.” He stands, subsequently helping her up, placing a hand on the small of her back as he holds her other hand. “Let’s get you out of here.”

John holds her hand tight, fearing she’d vanish any second. He guides her, holding the door open, keeping her tucked secure with his arm wrapped fitted around her smaller frame.

As the forms of release had been taken care of by John, he guides Y/N to his car, hand never leaving hers, with his arm still placed on the small of her back. He holds her close to him, making sure to never let her out of sight. As they arrive to the car door, he holds it open for her, helping her get settled in. Neither of them have spoke a word the entire way down.

As she sets herself in, John leans down to plug her seat belt in across her. “John, it’s alright. I can do it.” She assures, placing a hand on his arm.

Crouching down beside her again, John looks up at her, sadness still littered in his eyes. With a calm tone, John reasons, grabbing hold of her hand again. “Please.” He sighs. “Let me do this for you.”

Shutting the passenger door for her, John walks over to his side, taking place. He places his hands on the steering wheel for a moment, staring at the view ahead. Y/N watches him, worry in her own eyes. John seemed incredibly shaken, uneasy still. She feels horrible, and a heaviness overtakes the feel in her chest.

Reaching over to place a hand over his, she sighs, breaking the silence.

“John, baby, I’m really sorry. I should have been more careful, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin our night, I know you had an evening planned, reservations and all. But I promise, its nothing. I’m really alright.” She smiles, grasping his hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “Please cheer up?”

John lets out a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding. Slowly, he turns his gaze her way, locking their eyes. “I couldn’t care less about the reservations.” He grieves, eyes unable to connect with hers. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart.”

She grips his hand tighter, offering him a small smile, hoping his eyes would light up to his normal self again, glimmer as they do in the moonlit night.

But they didn’t. She frowns, bringing her thumb to brush the delicate skin under his eye, cupping his cheek. “It’s hard for me to see you like this, John. Talk to me. Please?” She whispers, pleading.

John sighs again, before turning his body to face her better. “Its just…that call, Y/N.” He exhales, shaking his head. He firms his eyes tight shut, facing down as he continues.

“It was so hard to hear your name on the other end.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking at the distant city lights again. Y/N rubs her thumb over his hand as she holds it, soothing him, trying her best to calm him.

He stays silent for another moment. As the city out in the distance moves, flows to pace as the night falls, Y/N feels her world standstill. She grips his hand tighter, her soothing strokes brush across his skin, refusing to let him wallow in his thoughts alone.

She’d always be there for him, she’d promised herself. She’d be there for him, because the world had failed to do so.

“Y/N,” He begins, gloomed, tense. “Anytime I get something good, its always been taken away from me.” He looks down at his lap, collecting his thoughts. His eyes are heavy, and they seem to be glistening.

But not in the way Y/N wanted to see them glisten. They were glistening with tears.

“Today, when I got that call, I felt all those things again, all those feelings of hopelessness, guilt, fear…I felt like something was being snatched away from me again. Only this time, it was as if all of the other things combined together, but so much more.” He shakes his head. “It was you. Y/N.”

Her heart drops. She feels the ache.

“I can face anything. I’ve been built that way, I’ve learned, because these things happen to me. I’ve accepted that maybe I’m not deserving of... good. But I can’t…I can’t bare the thought of you being taken away from me. Not you.”

She feels her heart break, shatter for the man in front of her. The man who thought, that he didn’t deserve good. The man who in her eyes, deserved the entire world, if she could give it to him. She brings her other hand to hold both of his, assuring him, that she’s there.

“I just felt so fucking hopeless. I felt guilty that I wasn’t there with you, that I didn’t protect you like I promised I would.” He frowns again.

“Y/N…I don’t have anything. All I have is you. I never had a family, I never had friends, everyone sees me as…” his aching tongue halts to finish he sentence. “I’ve never had anything. And after all I’ve done, all the blood on my hands, I don’t deserve anything.” He tries to hold himself together, staring in disgust at his hands that she held tight.

He sees them as an omen.

“You are all I have, Y/N. Just you, and Dog. And today, when that operator called, I felt like my entire world was being taken away, and I couldn’t do a single thing about it.” His voice cracks. “Like always.” He looks down again, trying to keep himself together.

Y/N watches him, with eyes full of sadness. She felt daggers in her heart with each word he spoke. Trying to channel a smile, she brings her hand to cup his cheek, making him connect his eyes with hers. She leans forward, cupping his face with both her hands, pressing delicate kisses to each inch of his face.

She showers him in love, because that’s what he deserved.

“I love you,” She whispers between kisses. “So much, John. You deserve so much. You deserve more than you think.” She whispers, looking him in the eyes. John brings his arms around her, holding her close as he buries his face in her neck. She rubs up and down his back, running her hands through his hair, making him feel ease.

They hold each other, for what feels like an eternity, eyes closed, sulking in each other.

Pressing a kiss to his shoulder, Y/N breaks the silence, still holding him close.

“John? Do you feel that?” She waits a moment, before speaking. “I’m right here. In your arms. Exactly where I belong,”

John smiles into her shoulder, wrapping his arms tighter around her now. She was right. She was right here, where she belonged. Her silken voice speaks again, in just above a whisper.

“And if I’m not, I’m always just a daydream away.” She smiles.

John chuckles, pulling back, to look her into her shining eyes. “Just a daydream away, I like that.” He presses a kiss to her lips, resting his forehead against hers, as they close their eyes briefly. “Gosh. I love you so much. Don’t scare me like that again.”

She giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you more, John. You deserve everything. And I promise, I’ll say it to you each and every day until you believe me. I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

~~~

As they reach home, John, to no surprise, falls into full paranoid boyfriend mode. He helps her each step of the way, holding her hand as they climb the stairs to the front door.

“John, I love you, but you do realize that I’m not hurt in any way? I just have a bandaid from the injection, silly.” She giggles, showing off her patched arm.

“I don’t care, Y/N. You’re not doing anything tonight and you’re going to let me take care of you, okay?” He shimmys the keys in the lock, opening the front door. “I’m not taking no for an answer.” He eyes her.

Y/N smiles, heart content at the man in front of her. She ruffles his hair playfully, pressing a kiss to his bicep, as he takes hold of her hand again, leading her in.

“Jonathan, there’s nothing to take care of. I’m fine.”

Hanging his coat on the coat hanger, John rushes to Y/N’s side to take her coat off for her. Being the gentleman he is, he bends down to unstrap her heels, gently taking her shoes off her feet, storing them away for her.

“John, I’m okaaaaay.” Y/N tries again, although John lets it in through one ear, and out the other. There was no way he was letting his girl do anything at all, until she’d fully recovered.

Placing a hand to the small of her back again, guiding her to the sofa, he ponders out loud. “Spinach is high in iron, right?”

“Yeah?” Y/N replies, getting herself comfy.

“Good. I’ll go make you a spinach smoothie then.”

Y/N scrunches her face in disgust, debating. “John, no. That’s gross.”

“Come ere boy!” John calls out to his Dog. As Dog runs to the room, Y/N hears John’s deep voice speak, as he pets his ears. “Keep mommy company, okay?”

Y/N blushes, at the thought of being Dog’s mommy.

As the night falls further, John helps Y/N change into one of his oversized shirts. It comes to the same length as a dress would on her, John finds her absolutely adorable in it. He feels his heart full at the way she wears a piece of him on her.

A symbol that she was truly, undeniable, fully, his.

After more of John’s antics, trying to help Y/N recover as fast as possible, they lay together in John’s bed, John’s mind partially dozed off to dreamland already. He’d have an eventful evening for sure, but in the end, it was all going to be okay, with the love of his life rest beside him.

As the midnight sky covers the city horizon, moonlight filters in through the window, with a cool breeze flowing through the curtains, as steady, ocean like waves. The world is falling asleep, with the stars scattered in the black and blue marbled sky, the moon gleams around them, beaming its light, radiating over the busy New York night.

To the rise and fall of her lover’s chest, Y/N hums in contentment.

Tight in each others embrace, John and Y/N are tucked away, holding each other after the events of the night. John holds her to his chest, providing her a haven, where no harm could reach, no matter how strong. He places lingering, soft, drowsy kisses to her temples, to her shoulder, to her cheeks, as he pleases, letting her know he’s close, protecting her.

That he’d always be.

The fear, has brought along an overwhelming plethora of love. Nothing but pure, unconditional love. As they lay, secure next to the one who matters most, Y/N’s honeyed voice murmurs into the evening air, thick with sleep,

resting her head further into John’s chest as she pulls him closer,

with a gratified smile on her face.

“The fluffiest pillow I have, indeed.”

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

Johns Outfit!

Y/N’s Outfit!

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

Taglist Posted Separately (Ask to be added or removed!) :

#john wick oneshot #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #john wick imagines #john wick #john wick x y/n #john wick fluff #john wick fanfiction #john wick fanfic #john wick fic #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves oneshot #keanu reeves #keanu reeves imagines

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monstrousroommates · 3 years ago

Text

Raspberry Morbs

On AO3

Getting back into the swing of things with a new chapter!

----------------------

Roman didn’t have as much time to spend with Remy and his boys once he’d gotten a job at the theatre. He had his own parties to attend, which he did invite Remy to join in with, and Remy would from time to time. Roman left the name ‘Cairnhill’ behind when he went into the theatre, going for the less upper class and cheerfully alliterative ‘Roman Richards’. Remy wasn’t surprised at all when Roman’s talent was more than enough to get him on stage with the barest whisper of persuasion. He had talent and dedication, and he was a pretty thing as well, if a bit more brown than most people liked. Stage makeup did wonders for that, apparently, and if Roman’s memory was spotty about what he had been like or what he did before he’d awakened, he didn’t forget things now, learning songs, scripts and blocking with ease and flair.

He continued to live with Remy, as he promised, and they’d meet in the late nights when Roman came home from the theatre, and Remy came back from his outings. From time to time, Roman Cairnhill would make a reappearance, of course, when he wasn’t busy being someone else, and once because he absolutely had to be there for his cousin’s wedding. Then the weddings of some of the boys, as they settled into more sedate lives. Roman even managed to bring himself to Reggie’s wedding, impeccably turned out to watch the man get married to a flushed pink woman of no real beauty but lovely wheat-blond hair. Roman joked, quietly to Remy that she looked like she had good teeth at least. Remy thought that her father’s position as senior partner in Reggie’s law firm had more to do with it.

Another thing that his new career slowed was Roman’s working through Algernon’s journals. It was over two years later when he finally found an answer as to how his portrait had been damaged.

There had been an argument between Algernon and his dearest friend Laurence- dearest friend being a not particularly effective cover for his live in lover, though Algernon never referred to him as anything else. Laurence had, after a long sickness become hysterical, demanding to know why Algernon loved his artifacts more than he loved him. Algernon had attempted to soothe him, but to no avail, Laurence was certain that his place in Algernon’s affections was being usurped- especially by the eyes of the mummy that sat in his office. Apparently, the mummy had a place of honor, stood carefully in a supportive box like a grandfather clock, watching over Algernon’s study where he did most of his work. Algernon had referred to the mummy as ‘his ancient angel’ fondly in the journals. So in a fit of jealous pique, Laurence had viciously scratched the eyes of the portrait, scoring into the wood panel it was painted on, using a letter opener. He had immediately collapsed back into his fever, having risen from his sick bed to do it.

Roman would have almost found it funny if it hadn’t involved him. After reading the journal entry, and the ones after it as Algernon desperately tried to nurse his friend back to health, Roman suffered from nightmares that were almost night terrors. Of being held down while his eyes were plucked out. Of being held immobile while people negotiated his worth. Of screams of an argument where he couldn’t defend himself. And of being a child, held by a female figure who he knew in the dream was his mother, as she railed hysterically and threatened him with a knife, as his dream father tried to placate her. Nothing he could do would chase these dreams away- even drinking himself into a stupor- the best he could do was send his soul flying away, to explore the world rather than staying in his body to dream.

“In June, seized by a fit of fever, Laurie rose from his bed whilst I was elsewhere. I came home to find him in the study, screaming at my magnificent specimen of mummification as though it could hear and understand him. When I came in, full of concern for Laurie’s health, he rounded on me- venting his fever worries. An educated man such as himself, babbling about a mummy’s curse, tearing our friendship apart. That I was bewitched somehow. Nothing I said seemed to reach him. In fact it only seemed to agitate poor Laurie more.

With a mighty screech he upset the specimen, sending it tumbling down to the ground. Nightshirt askew, he leapt on top of it like a squabbling farm-maid, taking the letter opener in his hand and gouging at the portrait. I managed to physically subdue him, as the action seemed to have broken the bizarre state he was in, and he sobbed terribly as I brought him back to bed, and took care of him.

Once Laurie was safely asleep once more, pressed there under the weight of a quarter grain of morphine, I finally returned to my study, and my poor specimen. The mummy itself seemed to have taken no harm from the rough handling, but the portrait that adorned it- ah! It makes me quite sad to look upon it, remembering the glory it once was. I have decided to remove the portrait and store it elsewhere. Poor Laurie, I wonder what sort of nightmare set this off?”

Remy looked up from the journal entry he’d just read outloud, over to where Roman sat, wine glass clutched in both hands between his knees.

“That’s a lot, pidge.”

Roman nodded.

“I just felt- I needed to share it with something.” he gave a weak laugh. “Imagine! My beauty is just so great that someone felt the need to defend their lover from it when I was a thousand years dead! What an honor.” He shook his head, and Remy put the journal down, moving to put his arm around his friend. “It wasn’t even anything personal, just a fever dream.” He tossed back the last of the wine and put the cup down, so he could cover his eyes. “It’s been haunting me since I read it.”

“I can understand that.” Remy nodded. Roman straightened up and stared across the parlor, clearly not seeing anything.

“I think that I’m going to leave the box and the portrait with Dr. Lloyd.” Roman said after a moment. “I just… I can’t stand to look at it right now. And it’s hardly doing me any good. He’ll at least enjoy it more, and he had hopes for restoration projects. Though last I heard he was trying to learn the technique they used in the first place.” Roman shook his head, and leaned against Remy’s shoulder. “So how have you been? We haven’t had many evenings together of late. We’re approaching the end of a run and the director and owner have had their heads together about what to do next. I might even get a few nights off.”

Remy gave a soft chuckle.

“I wanted to talk to you about something, Roman.”

“Gadzooks! My name! Are you feeling quite the top, Remy?”

“Little tired and sad- you know I love a flit and flirt with the boys. Thing is most of them are shackled and respectable these days. A few confirmed bachelors, but I’ve had to venture more into the libertine areas of the city, which wouldn’t do my reputation much good if I was caught, not at my ‘age’.”

“What is that again, young man?”

“Oh hush.” Remy snorted. Roman might not look or act it, but it was pleasant knowing that he wasn’t automatically the oldest person in the room. Picking up his own glass, he tossed most of it back. “I have to reset soon, I think. I don’t really want to go back to France.”

“Oh, like your friend.” Roman said with understanding, and snagged the bottle, refiling both their drinks.

“Yes. Johan is about ready to come back as well, which would mean I’d have to give him back his house anyway.”

“Has it been that long already?”

“Well we’d been gadding about for a good handful before we met, Pidge. A properly constructed reset only takes a decade or two at most.”

“I wonder if I shall have to learn to do that.” Roman mused stroking his thumb along the clean-shaven line of his jaw.

“Huh.” Remy huffed thoughtfully, and leaned over, dropping his head against Roman’s, where it was still leaned against him. “Well if you do I’ll give a hand. You don’t have the network for it.”

“I doubt I fit in with the Red Pages.”

“You’re unique, that’s for sure.”

“I suppose I am.” Roman said softly. They stayed like that for a long time, sitting together in uncharacteristic silence.

#sanders sides fic #monster AU #ts roman #TS remy #mummy!roman #vampire!remy

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scorpio-skies · 4 years ago

Text

OC as a Companion Meme!

NAME: Nora Hart

FOUND: Near Sunshine Tidings Co-Op, fighting raiders at the church.

COMPANION PERK: The Bear Necessities - Acquire Honey the yao guai as an extra companion.

ROMANCEABLE: Yes

(I was tagged for this a very long time ago, but always wanted to do it! Tagging: @eluvisen @mrninjapineapple @ariejul @sociallyacceptablemadness @lothrilzul @slothssassin @mars-colony @lookbluesoup @tarberrymentats @leporidaefluff @charomiami @beckiboos and anybody who’d like to do it! If you’ve done it before feel free to rb your original unless you wanna make another for a diff OC >:3c but no pressure at all!)

WEAPON OF CHOICE:

Lucky (.357 magnum revolver from FNV ;p)

Combat rifle

I THINK WE SHOULD TRAVEL TOGETHER:

“Then let’s hit the road!”

“Time for another adventure? Count me in!”

“You can count on me, boss!”

“Let’s get going, then!”

“The road’s a-calling.”

“Sounds like fun!”

(Romanced) “Good! I was hoping for some quality time with you.”

(Romanced) “I’d follow you anywhere, love. Lead on.”

USE MELEE:

“This is too close for comfort!”

“Let’s hit ‘em hard and fast!”

“Just go down already!”

“It’s about to get messy!”

USE RANGED:

“I’ve got your back!”

“They won’t get past me.”

“Nothing like a long-distance relationship!”

“Got it!”

OPEN INVENTORY:

“That’ll be twenty-caps. Just kidding!”

“What do you need?”

“Here’s what I’ve got!”

“Sure thing -- just don’t mess up my pack.”

(Romanced) “Oh? Did you get me something nice?”

IF OVERENCUMBERED:

“See, this is why caravans have carts and brahmin.”

“Shame Honey isn’t here to carry that for us… / Why don’t you see if Honey’ll carry it for ya?”

“I mean, I love junk as much as the next gal but... don’t you think you’re overdoing it?”

“Let me carry some of that for you.”

“You’re gonna hurt your back like that!”

“Your pack’s gonna pop…”

STAY CLOSE:

“I’m with you.”

“Right beside you.”

“I’m here.”

KEEP DISTANCE:

“Gotcha.”

“You got it.”

"Sure."

STEALTH:

"The sneaky way, huh?"

"Like shadows."

"Alright, let's go quietly."

"They won't know what hit em."

BACKUP:

“Oh! Sorry."

"I'll give you some space."

“Sorry -- don’t mean to be stepping on your toes!”

BE PASSIVE:

“Always worth negotiating!”

“I definitely prefer talking to violence.”

“Sounds good to me, boss. I’d prefer not to shoot if I don’t have to.”

“Turn on the charm!”

“You’re quite the people person.”

“You’re a real charmer, ain’t ya?”

(Romanced) “That’s my hero!”

BE AGGRESSIVE:

“Just say the word, boss.”

“I’m ready.”

“Guess it’s too late to ask them nicely?”

“Alright. Let’s bring the mayhem.”

“Well, if we can’t talk them down…”

USE STIMPAK:

“Ow… thanks, boss.”

“Ugh, needles… remind me not to get shot again.”

“Phew that’s better.”

“Thanks -- I’m good.”

“Back to it!”

WAIT HERE:

“Don’t go too far, okay?”

“Alright. Hurry back before I get too bored though, yeah?”

“Okay, I’ll be here.”

FOLLOW ME:

“Welcome back, boss!”

“Alright, let’s get back to it!”

“Lead on, boss. I’m with you.”

“Glad to have you back.”

LOVER’S EMBRACE:

“That was a good roll in the hay…”

“Jackpot!”

“Now that’s what I call a rodeo...”

“Morning beautiful/handsome!”

“Could stay all day in bed with you…”

“I love you. I want you to know that.”

DISMISSED:

“Well, you know where I’ll be.”

“Alright then. Take care of yourself, boss. You know where to find me.”

“Okay then. I’ll tell Kammie and Honey you said hi.”

“Alright -- you be careful, though. You hear me?”

“Time to head home then -- come and see us soon, yeah?”

(Romanced) “If that’s what you want, just… come home safe to me, alright? I’ll be waiting for you.”

ENEMIES (LONG RANGE)

“Today is not your lucky day!”

“You’re gonna regret this!”

“Shouldn’t pick fights ya can’t finish!”

“Hope you’ve made your peace!”

(Raiders) “You’re not gotta loot us!”

(Raiders) “You’re not hurting anybody else!”

(Raiders) “Time to answer for your crimes!”

(Gunners) “Let’s teach these thugs how to shoot!”

(Gunners) “I ain’t losing to the likes of you!”

(Gunners) “Hope those caps were worth your life!”

(Insects) “Ugh. These things creep me out!”

(Insects) “Buzz off!”

(Synths/Robots) “I’m gonna sell you for scrap!”

(Synths/Robots) “Time to shut you down permanently!”

(Super mutants) “Why are they always so big and angry?”

(Super mutants) “We’re not on the menu!”

(Super mutants) “I’m not going in some meat bag!”

(Behemoth/Mirelurk Queen) “Holy shit!”

(Behemoth/Mirelurk Queen) “The bigger they are, the harder they’ll fall!”

(Feral ghouls) “These things creep me out.”

(Feral ghouls) “Boss! Ferals!”

(Deathclaw) “Deathclaw! Run!”

(Deathclaw) “Deathclaw! Look out!”

(Yao Guai) “Don’t tell Honey!”

(Yao Guai) “I’m sorry bear!”

(Dogs/Radstags/Brahmiluff) “God I hate having to do that.”

(Dogs/Radstags/Brahmiluff/mole rats) “I’m sorry -- you left me no choice.”

(Critical Kill) “WOO! Nice shot!”

(Critical Kill) “Lucky hit!”

ENEMIES (CLOSE RANGE)

“Bring it!”

“Let’s dance!”

“Look out!”

“They’re on us!”

(Insects) “Ugh -- I hate these things!”

(Insects) “Disgusting!”

(Insects) “You’re really starting to bug me!”

(Synths/Robots) “Where’s the off switch?”

(Children of Atom) “Hope you said your prayers!”

(Super mutants) “Wow, you’re a big fella.”

(Super mutants) “What do these guys eat? No -- don’t answer that.”

(Super mutants) “I am not a snack!”

(Feral ghouls) “Get away from me!”

(Feral ghouls) “Shit!”

(Feral ghouls) “Way too close!”

(Mirelurks) “These guys sure are crabby!”

WHEN ENTERING:

GOODNEIGHBOR

“Well, this looks like a good place to get mugged.”

“Ah, Goodneighbor. Crime capital of the Commonwealth -- watch your back here, boss.”

“Yeah, Goodneighbor has walls but it’s got plenty of cut-throats within them. We’ll need to watch our backs. Also our caps.”

“Oh, boss. You always take me to the ‘nicest’ places.”

“Is everyone’s staring at us, or is that just me?”

DIAMOND CITY

“So, this is the great green jewel of the Commonwealth… I’ll have to get Kammie a souvenir.”

“Hey -- mind if we stop by the market? I wanna see if I can wrangle us some deals.”

“Noodles? Served by a robot? Kammie is not gonna believe this...”

“Do you think these people ever get tired of looking at the walls?”

“So this is the infamous Dugout… You hear a lot about this place in the caravans. Home of Bobrov’s Best! Fancy getting a bottle?”

BUNKER HILL

“These guys are miserly, even by trader standards. If you need anything, let me do the haggling, yeah?”

“Bunker Hill’s a popular stop for caravans. Me and Kammie were planning on stopping here, but I’m not sure they’d let Honey through the gate…”

“I’ve been here before, you know. But it was a long time ago.”

BOSTON AIRPORT

“Do you really think those wrecks could fly? I can’t even imagine what that’d be like…”

“If we could still fly like that… think of all of the places we could see.”

(After Reveille has triggered) “Wow… Just look at that airship!”

(After Reveille has triggered) “Looks like the Brotherhood mean business. Maybe we should move on?”

(After Reveille has triggered) “I don’t really wanna tangle with the Brotherhood, boss. They’re bad for business.”

THE PRYDWEN

“Wow -- just look at that view!”

“This ship is amazing -- and look at all the power armour!”

“Hey, do you think they’ll sell me a suit if I ask nicely?”

THE CASTLE

“The Castle must have been a sight to see when the Minutemen were in charge. Shame about the current tenants...”

(After Castle is restored) “It’s great to see the Castle back in Minutemen hands!”

(After Castle is restored) “The Minutemen have done a great job fixing the Castle up again!.”

(After Castle is restored) “I bet the sunrise is something to see from those walls...”

(After Castle is restored) “Me and Kammie were talking about whether we should join the Minutemen or not… do you think they accept bears?”

QUINCY

(Before clearing Quincy) “I heard about what the Gunners did to Quincy… nothing but a bunch of murderers.”

(Before clearing Quincy) “Look at what they did here… The Gunners are no better than raiders.”

(After clearing Quincy) “I really hope Quincy can rebuild and recover someday.”

THE GLOWING SEA

“So… which of us will turn ghoul first?”

“Is there a way to turn the Geiger counter off? It keeps reminding me we’re dying and I don’t like it.”

“This place… it’s like we’re in a nightmare.”

“I keep seeing things moving in the fog…”

“Do you think they really knew what they were doing when they dropped the bombs?”

“We’ll have to drink a few pints of radaway after this…”

CONCORD

“That vertibird makes an interesting installation...”

LEXINGTON

“I heard Lexington is overrun with ferals… are you sure we can’t go around?”

“I feel like there’s something around every corner...”

“Why can’t the ferals just eat the raiders?”

SALEM

“This place belongs in a horror comic.”

(Devil’s Due) “I don’t like the sound of that...”

(Return egg to the deathclaw) “I’m proud of you, boss. Those deathclaws deserved better… now, let’s back away nice and slow and leave them to it, yeah?”

LYNN WOODS

“Those claw marks on the rock… Deathclaw territory. Stay alert.”

“Try not to make too much noise. If a deathclaw comes after us, I don’t know if we can stop it.”

NAHANT

“Keep an eye out. There’s a floating raider fortress nearby.”

“Caravans have disappeared around here, and the survivor stories...? They’re not good.”

“I don’t think we’ll find anything other than crabs and scrap around here.”

“I hope there’s no big mirelurks around…”

“What kind of maniac wants to live out by the sea, anyway? You don’t know what’s out there!”

CAMBRIDGE

“That police station’s well fortified -- here’s hoping they’re friendly.”

“Why is this place so quiet…? I don’t like it.”

“I thought raiders had taken over the place… not that I’m complaining.”

“Oh. Ghouls. God I wish it was raiders.”

SANCTUARY

“So this is your old home, huh?”

“We should set up a supply line between here and Sunshine! We can help each other out.”

“This is quite a nice place!”

SUNSHINE TIDING’S CO-OP

“Home sweet home!”

“You think we can stop by for some of Kamal’s lasagne?”

“I’ll check in on the animals while we’re here.”

(when greeted by Honey) “Hey there, Honey bear! How’re you today?”

“I’m gonna go check on Kammie.”

“Home is where you keep your bear!”

AGGRESSION: not aggressive/aggressive/very aggressive/frenzied

CONFIDENCE: cowardly/cautious/average/brave/foolhardy

ASSISTANCE: helps nobody/helps allies/helps friends and allies

LOSE AS COMPANION PERMANENTLY:

Too many dislikes

Siding with the Institute

Choosing Institute option in personal quest

Destroying the Railroad

Selling Billy to slavers in Kid in a Fridge

Killing Kent Connolly in The Silver Shroud

Siding with Covenant

Destroying Acadia

Destroying Far Harbor

Siding with the Nuka-World raiders

Raiding the Commonwealth for Nuka-World

Bringing X6-88 near (will turn Nora, Honey and Kamal hostile)

Attacking Honey or Kamal

Killing Phyllis Daily

Killing Paladin Danse in Blind Betrayal

Killing Jules in the random synth encounter

PERSONAL MISSION: Override

Nora can be found fighting raiders at the church near Sunshine Tidings Co-op with Kamal and Honey. After the player helps them dispatch the raiders, they introduce themselves as traders seeking a safe place to set up their business. If the player has unlocked Sunshine as a settlement, they can send them there. This unlocks Nora as a companion, and Kamal as a trader. Honey operates as a guard-bear.

After the player unlocks the Institute for the first time, they return to Sunshine to find the settlement under attack by coursers.

Once the coursers are dispatched, Nora and Kamal have a panicked discussion where Nora worries that the Institute is on to her. Nora and Kamal lead the player to a quiet area of Sunshine and Nora tells Kamal that she trusts the player.

She then confesses that she’s an escaped synth, and that the coursers were after her. She doesn’t know much about her past other than her time with the caravans, but over the years has been the victim of attempted reclamation by coursers. She and Kamal returned to the Commonwealth to try and learn how to stop it.

If the player has not taken Nora to the Railroad or discovered them, Nora and Kamal mention that they’ve heard of the Railroad and were hoping they could help them. The player can then offer to find out more.

If the player has taken Nora to the Railroad before, she will ask the player if they can convince the Railroad to help her.

If the player goes to the Railroad, Tinker Tom provides a holotape. If the player uses it in the Synth Retention Bureau, it wipes Nora’s record from the system as well as some other escaped synths.

After the player wipes Nora from the Institute’s records they can assure her that she’s safe and doesn’t have to run anymore. Nora and Kamal are overjoyed that they don’t have to keep running, and they agree that they want to set up a ranch at Sunshine.

Nora will mention that Honey’s overjoyed too and has taken a liking to the player. The player has then unlocked Nora’s perk, The Bear Necessities, and Honey shall accompany Nora when the player character recruits her.

Honey can be ordered much the same as Dogmeat, but she has a greater carry capacity, health and damage. She can be told to stay at Sunshine.

The player can, however, choose to instead inform Ayo of Nora’s location.

When the player next returns to Sunshine, they’ll find Kamal waiting for them with Honey. He’s injured and frantic, informing the player that coursers took Nora. If the player admits they handed Nora over, both Kamal and Honey will turn hostile.

If the player feigns innocence, Kamal will insist he knows something’s not right.

If the player tries to convince Kamal Nora’s gone forever, he’ll swear to keep looking for her no matter what it takes.

When the player returns to the Institute, Nora can be found but renamed with her synth designation, C9-42. She reacts to the player character with the same deference as other synths, but knows them only as Father’s parent. Although she has the same bland smile as other synths when talking to the player, outside of conversation she will have a sad expression.

#fallout 4 #nora hart #fallout oc #kamal #honey

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 5 years ago

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Prima ballerina and her Vicious Viking: Ivar the boneless

I have seen a lot of Youtube clips so I don't know much of the show so sorry if I missed some names.

Warning: some grammatical mistakes and misspelled names

Still living in a house with no internet so this piece was made in a cafe with the internet where I sat for a good half an hour sorry if it wasn't the best.

Enjoy!

And then I dance on the tops of my toes with the rhythmic music following my lead.' The soft giggles at the end of the sentence gave the man beside the girl much room to think.

'How do you mean that the music follows you? Music is invisible. I don't understand.' 'That's a term of saying. For example when you are dancing-' 'I do not dance.' Y/n looks at him again hitting her head in the realization that she forgot.

'Sorry.' the ruthless man chuckles nudging her shoulder with his. 'I like it when you get sad like this and apologetic. It's very much... Sweet.' Ivar smiled at his lover leaning towards her soft and cold lips kissing them to give her little of his own warmth. She reciprocates his action pushing against lips letting the bystanders pass them with shock in their eyes seeing a young fair maiden kissing him. As if she felt the wave of unpleased she moves back whispering 'I wish you could see it.'

Ivar nods in agreement answering in the same tone 'As well, I could only imagine how graceful you look.' Y/n steps up from the small chair holding her hand out to Ivar as he grabs his crutch walking long side her holding her hand delicately and the crutch holding onto for dear life.

Arriving in his room he flops down ready to tell out the order for his lackluster slave but feels Y/n's hands on his legs unbuckling his leg braces. He wants to rebuke her kind gesture but when she was so soft, nice, slow with him he could do only but melt at her love and affection. She always was one step ahead of him, everyone is but still... she was in his head far longer than his brothers, no one could survive for that long as she did.

Finishing up the job Y/n grabs the braces placing them next to his crutch, within arm's length. Letting go of the bonds of metal and leather Y/n looks up at the moon as it shined bright with only a few stars as companions. 'When are you going back?' Ivar asks his hands clasping together hoping to hear the largest of numbers 'This my second full moon... tomorrow.' Responding to his question she turns around seeing his head hung in sadness

'But I'll be back. Soon. Very soon.' Ivar nods as his blue eyes pleaded to her to stay more, not to put any more days apart and than together. Her steps squeezed along the dry wood as her derriere sat next to Ivar's on the bed 'I understand... I just wish that we- we weren't such worlds apart.' she knew what he meant and how literal it was for she was a lucky girl who stumbled up a portal in the deep woods behind her house falling directly into his world with no warmth to keep her alive only stumbling over him as she desperately asked passers to lend her their warm coats not bothering to look down tumbling over the man she will fall in love with.

Oh, the irony the only one to help her was the only one she didn't ask. And thus having her tumble from one world into another, pushing her body from a normal warm temperature to freezing winter.

'I know, but I don't want to risk the timeline of history just so you can see my dance.' That was also a problem. The timeline. That's what she thought maybe it was a historic timeline or it was an alternative world where everything was frozen. She didn't know and if she asked him things that would develop later she could change the lives of future billions. She heard stories of him, she read them and witness them but when he was with her it was more a question of that man was capable of killing in cold blood for an honor when he told her she was his true love. She did not know. Nor she doesn't want to know. It was safer that way. But also she knew that he was a Viking that one day will come when she will decide if she'll leave her world or his... forever. Even that was for another time. Not now, when she held him in a tight and warm embrace.

'I'll find a way.' Ivar whispered through her clothes letting his heavy eyes close as he is lulled into a peaceful sleep knowing that when he wakes up she will be gone until the next full moon.

The cold sun shined brightly into the room as its soft icy rays fall onto Ivar's s eyelids making him force open. He opens his blue eyes seeing the pillow next to him empty, he was right. She is gone. 'What's wrong brother?' Hvitserk asked his brother as he involuntary ate his food. 'Nothing-nothing.' Ivar replied not wanting to look at his brother's smirk. Ubbe looks at his baby brother saying 'Ah, is the woman of your "life" gone?' Ubbe let the words drag far longer than normal to irk Ivar more and more. Ivar held the fork with all his strength feeling as if with one more "joke" he will fling it to his brother's eyeball. 'Boys, enough.' Aslaug says with authority in her voice pleading the boys to stop harassing their youngest. Everyone around the table knew just how much Ivar had a short fuse but still his family should understand his sorrow. 'Do not worry dear brother, soon she will leave you so you will not feel like this anymore.'

Ubbe said with no cares for his brother's love. Ivar looked ta him immediately fearing the worst. He knew that whatever his brothers said about her was meant as a joke but this kind of sentence bore throughout all layers of emotions, intentional or not. It broke his heart to think there won't be unanticipated waits of her return or walking down a street just holding her hand to see the shocked reactions of his people, feeling on top of the world with her. He didn't want those moments to stop coming in, he doesn’t want to feel alone and in pain.

Hell, even when he was in pain she was with him to tell him about her life as a dancer. It didn't have to stop. Not if he wanted to.

'Okay, class. From the beginning. Step 1, step 2, hop 3 and twirl 4 aannndd falls gracefully down. Good job.' the teacher applauded her team of marvelous ballerinas letting them take a rest talking to each other to catch up on their days they spent free.

Y/n laid next to her friend Micheal as he nudged her shoulder 'So, the guy, Ivar? When I'll meet him?' he asked the all too telling question as he untangled his ballet shoes.' Well... he is-well he is... busy? Yeah, that.' 'Sure... sure Susan. I mean I just want to see a man that fell in love with your soul and not your amazingly talented feet.' Michael was right. He always was.

His questions were innocent enough but his intentions were sincere. But he didn't meet a historic/alternative universe Viking who captured her heart. 'Besides, the grand show is in 2 days and he won't come?' 'Yeah, he isn't the one for the finer arts.' 'I can understand that. But if I had an artistic girlfriend I would be with her each day and attend all her shows.'

Y/n slumped her shoulders feeling the sadness sead into her heart she wanted to see Ivar at her shows but it just wasn't going to happen. As her shoulders sank so did her smile, giving Micheal a big smack on the head. He was stupid.' Y/n...' 'It's okay... really, it is.' Y/n looked at the wood flooring hoping to remove this sad energy from her soul hoping that Ivar is having a better day than her.

'I am telling you it is true love!' Ivar screamed at his brothers seeing the doubtful gleam 'Brother, having sex is not love. That is something you cannot understand.' Ubbe restored back' 'Oh yeah... And what about your love life Ubbe, your wife isn't really faithful I heard.' Ivar halted his words seeing the sudden snap of his brother's posture, he grins 'Maybe it's because you aren't active anymore so she searches for other men to please her.' Ubbe stood up holding his hands reaching towards Ivar's neck over the table to strangle the life out of him. Ivar felt Ubbe's chubby fingers around his neck trying to choke but as much ut was dangerous it was funny to Ivar 'Brother have you... lost your inner man? I'm still here breathing.' Ivar said with little to no effort as he saw Ubbe's eyes glare at him cursing and condemning his soul and body.

'Enough!' Aslaug slammed her fist on the table startling everyone present 'Ubbe that is not how you act with your brother. Not when he is hurting.' she says softly trying to calm the brut.' His ways of thinking got me angry. ' Ubbe said trying to explain his harsh actions. Ivar looked at his older brother feeling a kick in his stomach, he stands up leaning on his crutch leveling his eyesight with Aslaug and Ubbe

'So does that mean that you do not think that I am worthy of love? Because I am just a cripple?' 'Let's face it Ivar, no one other than mother can love you.' Sigurd bugged in leaving Ivar at a loss of words. Ivar looked at his "family" seeing no smug of empathy, no desire does not help him feel better about the woman he loved so dearly. He wanted to scream at them but he needed to prove it to them

'Follow me, and I will show you the truth.' Ivar hobbled out of the dining room as he heard steps in the back following him.

The reflectors shined down on the podium as the dancers took center dancing along the musical influences that played beneath them while Y/n waited for her grand stage.

The piece de résistance.

She will have her solo number finishing off the ballet show. Her dress was long and flowing, hoping that she will seem like a floating ghost and not a white sheet falling on the floor, her hair tied into a bun pinned in with many fake jewels but still giving her regal glow and her ballet shoes neatly tightened with a bow behind her calf.

'Ready?' Micheal asked as he hopped off the stage next to her his breath trying to catch up to him. She nods as the lights dim down giving her the cue to go out, to take the final dance and close of this beautiful show. Bending her knees a little she feels the warmth lights on her back snap right back up as the music starts its first few sharp notes.

Her head snaps to the crowd seeing the influx of esteemed guests dressed in dresses and suits waiting for her to show them her skills. Standing slowly up with the music she looks further seeing the back door open a few more guests entering.

Not now.

Letting the music take her on she spins along letting her mind go blank and her feet take control. Each step careful as the last one, soft and mellow as the music played, her arms moving along with the musical air telling a story of their own, while her eyes every now and then watched the crowds reaction seeing a glimmer of silver, her eyes stop still focusing on it.

Her spins take her around still trying to see in the far back who it was. The music mellows down her movements following the pace as she takes one more final step towards the crowd ending the grand show.

Y/n bows her head and the crowd stands up in thunderous applause showing her with cheers, claps, and whistle... wolf whistles? Here? In a posh theater? She looks up seeing the person who wolf-whistled was none other than Ivar. What?! Not letting the sudden shock show she walks backstage passing the cheers of her teacher and peers and running straight to the back to see if this was happening.

Her dress flowed behind her but immediately stopped. 'Ivar.' The love of her life turned around on his crutches smiling proudly 'Now I understand what you meant.' There he was Ivar, Ubbe, Sigurd, Hvitserk, and Aslaug. How? Ivar walked along the plush corridor as Y/n drew closer and closer steps to him, hugging him tightly as possible. He hugged back feeling underneath his fingers the white fabric on her waist her sweet scent was now sweeter as if she was dipped in the richest honey.

Ivar pulls away smiling at his girl seeing her eyes he missed so dearly for the last 4 days while she gazed at his blue irises seeing that a day more and he could have a mental breakdown 'Are you alright?' Y/n asked 'I am now. My ballet princess.'

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ducktracy · 4 years ago

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177. dog daze (1937)

release date: september 18th, 1937

series: merrie melodies

director: friz freleng

starring: mel blanc (police dog, spitz, russian wolf hounds), billy bletcher (st. bernard), berneice hansell (puppy)

around this time, friz freleng left warner bros. to reconnect with his former co-workers and friends, hugh harman and rudolf ising, over at MGM. he’d serve a relatively short stint as director there, coming back to WB as soon as april 1939. the backlog of friz cartoons would trickle out until early 1938, where he would then be replaced by ben hardaway and cal dalton. friz has seniority at the studio, going as far back as animating for the 1929 pilot bosko, the talk-ink kid. while this isn’t his last cartoon, it remains an intriguing talking point! he’d make his biggest splash upon his return, directing a number of great black and white porky cartoons and making other little-known characters such as yosemite sam and sylvester, to name a select few. let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, now: here, we’re treated to a number of spot-gags involving dogs—including a drunken st. bernard.

patrons stream into a theater advertising the local dog show. it’s not a ‘30′s cartoon without a celebrity caricature of some sort--a lumbering caricature of humorist/author irvin s. cobb moseys along down the street with his identical looking bulldog. he’s followed by william powell and his pooch asta, both featured relatively prominently in speaking of the weather just 2 shorts ago. and, furthering the connection to the aforementioned cartoon, we get another gag implying that the dog took a leak on a nearby pole: powell marches past a spare pole, when suddenly his leash is yanked from behind, leaving the audience to read between the lines.

another gag that is more reminiscent of the early days of animation: your stereotypical “fat lady” gag, underscored by a rather sardonic rendition of “oh, you beautiful doll”. the woman, in an attempt to fit into the seats, ends up shoving the entire row out of the way. not much to add here: fatphobia funny, right? (eyeroll)

cue the dog puns as we get a look at the line-up for the dog show. a bird dog (as in, dogs who hunt birds) is taken to its literal meaning, perched in a cage and whistling like a bird. the next pen over is an irish setter (sitter, get it?) perched on top of a nest. mama crawls out of the nest to reveal a line of eggs. one by one, they all hatch to reveal a trio of energetic, yappy puppies. points for surrealism.

next up, a disembodied voice cries “RAIN BLOW THROUGH THE MOUNTAIN!”, curtains withdrawing to reveal a police dog donning a mountie uniform, howling (its howls, of course, provided by mel blanc). this is a reference to the ever popular renfrew of the mounted, a ‘30′s book and radio series about a singing mountie--frank tashlin’s porky in the north woods even served as an ode to it. after that features a spitz hound, chewing on a glob of tobacco and lobbing it at a spitoon. amusing at first, this gag quickly wears its welcome as its featured in a number of other cartoons. spitting gags themselves were more along the lines of the earlier ‘30′s cartoons, right at home in the cruder days of the early harman and ising films.

a st. bernard booze hound is next to be revealed, drunkenly singing a wordless rendition of “how dry i am”. billy bletcher’s deep bellow is a perfect match for such a big dog: the dog, rather pluto-esque as we’ll come to recognize, will return throughout the picture. the animation of it is rather nice--the physics on the floppy jowls are great. after a fit of hiccups, the dog giggles bashfully.

so, to counteract that high of the dog, our next pooch?

oh, sweet hilarity!

time to make room for more puns, this time plastered on the curtain. the curtain advertises groaners such as “come see our itchings -- canine art galleries”, “are you in the dog house? get a new leash on life supply co.”, and so forth. the spotlight takes its sweet time to roam around each pun, allowing it to really sink in. complete with close-ups! i’m watching the newly restored version on hbomax (which looks gorgeous, by the way), and so i don’t know if it’s the fault of the restoration or if the original print had this issue, but the close-ups are a bit blurry, as if they were having some problems with the double-exposure effects.

with eye-rolling puns out of the way (and i say this as a shameless pun lover), the audience is treated to a variety of k-9 vaudeville acts, starting with a pair of scottie dogs, who perform the highland fling. personally, i like the camel’s version better in porky in egypt. the spacing of the animation isn’t well distributed here--the movement feels too mechanical.

the scotties are replaced by a pair of russian wolf hounds, who look like sticks when viewed from the front--a common place gag. animation of the hounds doing the hopak fares better than the scotties, and the barks at the end of the musical phrases are at least passably amusing. as the performance wraps up, the ushankas worn by the hounds turn out to be little black dogs curled up in a ball--once more, a tried and true gag that calls back to the days of the harman and ising era.

just when we think we’ve had enough groaners: the next act, titled “dog eat dog” features a... wait for it! a dog eating a hotdog. at least the ironic commentary by the sarcastic, pitchy, violin rendition of “where oh where has my little dog gone” alerts us to some self-awareness regarding how lame the gag is. thankfully, the next gag at least got a polite chuckle out of me: the act titled “little man you’ve had a busy day” (in reference to the popular song of the same name) showcases a dog panting and flashing a guilty smile, a line of poles in the backgrounds. two piss jokes in one short! that must be a record!

what could be considered the song portion of the short follows next, a group of prarie dogs singing “my little buckaroo” with alternate, dog-inclusive lyrics (mentioning pedigrees and the like). the drunken st. bernard from before cringes at the act, howling and carrying on. a hand off-screen shoves a muzzle on him to shut him up (don’t tell PETA!), prompting the dog to force it free.

instead, the dog accidentally ricochets himself into an open trunk (labeled johnson skating act, a reference to background artist johnny johnson, most commonly associated with tex avery). and, as to be expected, the dog emerges from the trunk slipping and sliding on a pair of roller skates. the animation of the dog on the roller skates is certainly the high point of the short--even the dog’s emergence just slides like butter. definitely worthy of a frame-by-frame watch.

the prarie dogs finish up the remainder of their song (once more bitten by the double-exposure bug, still wondering if that’s the restoration or the original print?), just in time to allow a shanghaied skating pup to slide across the stage. more great animation of the dog struggling on his skates as he slides into the other wing, his struggle animated on ones (you’ll also note the sign in the background advertising a gross of anvils). he eventually topples over, the barrel on his chest keeping him going until he crashes into a wall. the few smear frames leads me to believe that this is ken harris at work, though i’m far from confident on that claim.

even more great animation as the dog, pluto-esque in his struggle and frustration, struggles to get back onto his feet, his drunken hiccups sending him falling each time. i love when he resorts to grabbing his ass by his teeth to lift himself up, giving a self-satisfied grin at the camera before falling right back down again. frustrated, the dog grovels in his humility, a welcome burst of comedic timing as he shoves the lower half of his body down in frustration, free to mope and ponder in peace.

next up serves as a rather deliberate callback to one of friz’s most monumental pictures (in notoriety, not quite in quality)--his 1935 entry i haven’t got a hat, that most famously marks the debut of everyone’s (okay, MY) favorite porcine. a shy little puppy timidly pokes her head out from a cardboard standee, clearly in no rush to get out on stage. ken harris’ animation of her resisting the push of the disembodied arm is full of character: her facial expression creased with worry is relatively scribner-esque, another bonus.

finally, she’s thrown out on stage... facing the wrong way. a whistle summons her to turn around, where she recites “mary had a little lamb”, her squeaky vocals provided by none other than berneice hansell. she starts off... and, in an avery-esque break of character, growls to stage left “awww... this is SILLY!” a book is thrown at her in response.

in the midst of the puppy’s recital (which is cleverly underscored by “puppchen”), the drunken dog from before still engages in his battle to get up. once more, the animation is more than a treat to look at: the dog, fueled with fury, scrambles to his feet with a running start. the animation glides as effortlessly as the dog, but something off-screen catches his attention: a trunk containing a flea circus.

as you can surely guess, dog crashes, and the fleas miraculously fly (suspension of disbelief!) out of the trunk, ready to cause trouble. in another ode to i haven’t got a hat, where porky was the one mixing up two poems in a recital, the reciting puppy mixes up her nursery rhymes (”mary had a little lamb, the mouse ran up the clock. and anywhere the lamb would go, hickory dickory dock!”) while watching a flea buzz dangerously close to her vicinity, eyes rotating 360 degrees and all.

inevitably, the flea strikes, and the puppy gives a strained remainder of her recital, itching all the way. the main ode to i haven’t got a hat stems here--the puppy’s voice grows exceedingly higher in pitch, the animation of her pacing from side-to-side and eventually off stage directly reused fom the short. it should be noted that, in the original scene, another hansell-voiced animal (little kitty) was giving the same recital of mary had a little lamb. this scene has the benefit of better animation and a little bit more humor, but it’s an interesting callback to such an important cartoon.

fade out and back in to the remainder of the fleas, who are having a hell of a time sopping up the spilled alcohol from the st. bernard’s barrel. one flea fishes in the liquor, another swimming, one more even licking it up straight from the source. the short comes to an end on a quartet of drunken fleas, singing a shrill, obnoxious, hiccup-ridden rendition of “how dry i am”. iris out.

i will admit that, as i reviewed this, the cartoon slowly warmed up to me. i wasn’t at all charmed by the first half: the puns are rather lame, the timing is bloated and slow, and it lacks direction, even for a spot-gag cartoon. it feels overwhelmingly half-hearted: when a director or its crew lacks enthusiasm, that absence is certainly felt. yet, the second half of the short definitely thawed my otherwise cold review. the animation of the st. bernard on roller skates is some absolutely gorgeous stuff. it’s very smooth, very funny, and very tactile. moreover, the puppy’s recital of “mary had a little lamb” was very fun and amusing--berneice hansell never fails to win me over with her vocals. with that said, however, i wouldn’t really recommend this cartoon: there are too many other good friz cartoons to check out. it lacks enthusiasm and conviction, and feels more like a relic of the past, from the prevalence of billy bletcher and berneice hansell (who dominated the pre-blanc cartoons) to the harman and ising-esque gags to the deliberate callbacks to i haven’t got a hat. mainly, i would persuade you to check out the second half for the animation of the roller-skating dog, and maybe add the recital sequence as an extra incentive. but, for now, this is a largely unremarkable cartoon that you can skip without feeling too slighted.

yet, with that said: the short is available on hbomax if you have it, where i got the screenshots from! if not, you can check out a lower-quality version here. better than nothing!

#lt #looney tunes #dog daze #reviews #long post #freleng

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writingmyselfout · 3 years ago

Text

Because I Could Not Stop for Death - Chapter Four

Language: English

Rating: Teen+

Pairing: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter

Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Reptilia28′s Don’t Fear the Reaper Challenge, Manipulative Dumbledore, Black Hermione Granger, Slight Ron Weasley Bashing

Prologue 1 2 3

Chapter 4: Writing on the Wall

Summary: Off to Hogwarts

2 August 1991

DEAR Draco,

Sorry if this is messy. I thought I’d practice writing with a quill. It’s easier than I thought it’d be, but messier to. I have to remember not to leave the tip on the paper or it leaves big smudges.

What was the name of the restorant restaurant we went to lunch to? The cake at that place was the best I’ve had! I hope the food at Hogwarts is that good too. I can’t wait for classes to start. I’ve been reading a few of the books in the meantime. I decided to name my owl Hedwig, after a witch I read about in A History of Magic .

Will you be taking the train too? If you aren’t already sitting with friends, maybe we can sit together? If that’s okay, of course. You’ll be the only person I know so far. If you’ve got other friends sitting with you already no worries. I guess I’m just nervous. Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape told me about being famous, but I didn’t realize what they meant until I saw people’s reaction to hearing my name and seeing me. Do you think it will be the same at school?

Write back soon please!

Harry Potter

4 August 1991

Dear Harry,

Practice writing with a quill? Do you mean you’ve never used a quill before? What were you using to write until now?

The Copper Crup was the name. Mother would take me there for my birthday because their food is of much better quality than most of the others around. Of course, they have nothing on what our House elves can prepare at home, but it’s nice to go out sometimes, as Mother points out.

Mother and Father have said they have gotten me an owl from a breeder to take with me to Hogwarts. I haven’t seen him yet, but I think I’ll name him Vespid, after the most famous Wimbourne Wasps Beater.

Of course I’ll be taking the Hogwarts Express. All students have to take the train. Some of the others starting in our year I think expect me to sit with them since our parents are friends. Father probably wants me to, since their families are part of the Sacred 28. You can probably sit with us. Some of them are kind of dumb, though.

Did you really not know you are famous? Have you been living under a rock? Forget just school, or even England. Every witch and wizard in the WORLD knows who you are! They write an article about you every year in the Daily Prophet.

Draco Malfoy

5 August 1991

Draco,

They write a WHAT about me every year? What’s the Daily Prophet? Is that like a newspaper for wizards? I thought I was just a normal, non-magical kid for years. I live with non-magical family, and they don’t like to talk about magic. But after what you said, I looked at more recent years. Did you know I’m mentioned in our A History of Magic book? Only a small bit, I guess ‘cause they don’t know anything else, but it’s embaressing. Embarassing? I can’t remember how to write that.

I guess if you’re used to quills, maybe you’ve never heard of a pen? It’s what non-magical folks use. It’s a big of plastic with ink inside of it and a metal tip to write with. Or pencils, which is wood. I’ve sent one of each over for you ‘cause I think it’d be easier than trying to explain in writing.

It doesn’t sound like you like those other kids. Do you have to sit with them? Can we move seats during the trip? Maybe you can sit with them for a little while and then leave.

But what do you mean, their families are sacred? What are House elves? I remember what you said Beaters did, but who was Vespid? Sorry if my questions are dumb. There’s so much I don’t know. But if my questions bother you, I’ll stop asking them.

Harry Potter

8 August 1991

Harry,

You live with Muggles? No wonder you don’t know anything! I can’t imagine growing up with no magic. How terrible. Lucky for you, I know all there is to know.

The Daily Prophet is the wizarding world newspaper. It gets delivered by owl every day. House elves are magical servants, but only older, more magical families have them. Most of the Sacred 28 do, anyway. The Sacred 28 are the oldest, pureblood wizarding families, and a lot of them are very important. None, of course, more than the Malfoys. Father is on the Board of Governors for Hogwarts, and he knows the Minister of Magic personally. Mother says that because of that, I must be careful with who I become friends with, as they might be trying to get close to me so their parents can get closer to Father, or because we’re wealthy.

It will probably be the same for you, since you’re famous. Mother said the Potters were very wealthy, too, when I asked. Did you inherit everything? Are you and your Muggles relatives living at the Potter estate?

Most importantly, we must do something about how little you know about Quidditch. Elric Vespid was a Beater for the Wasps something like 600 years ago. He hit a wasps’ nest so hard at the Appleby Arrows’ Seeker that he retired, and it’s why the team became known as the Wasps. I have sent over my favorite book, Quidditch Through the Ages. It will tell you all you need to know about the game. Mother says it’s polite to return gifts when you’re given something, so consider it a thanks for what you sent me. I have never seen a pen or pencil before. They’re strange. I think I prefer a quill.

If there’s no magic at your house, what do you do for fun?

Draco Malfoy

11 August 1991

Hey Draco,

Thank you for the book! I’ve read it all. I can’t wait to see a real game.

Muggles aren’t all bad. But you should probably never meet my family. They are pretty terrible. If they’re the first Muggles any witch or wizard meets, they’d never want to meet another ever again and I wouldn’t blame them. They’re the worst, really. But my mum’s parents were Muggles, and I’ve mostly only known Muggles.

Wow, is your dad really that important? You must’ve been surprised when I didn’t know who you were then! It sucks you have to worry about people being friends with you only ‘cause of your dad or your family’s money. I hope we can both make friends who don’t care and just want to be our friends ‘cause they like us , you know?

As for what my parents left me, I actually only found out at Gringotts right before meeting you that they left me a lot of money. I had no idea before, but I guess technically, I am wealthy now? But I don’t know anything about an estate. I tried to ask my aunt and uncle, but like always, they didn’t really give me an answer. I think they don’t actually know, ‘cause if they knew about how much money they’d left me, I’m sure they’d have tried to take it. My uncle actually said my dad wouldn’t have had anything to give me worth writing a will for. Can you believe it? I decided not to tell them anything. Maybe the professors can help me look into it.

How cool would it be to find out there’s some big ol’ house somewhere they left me?

Harry Potter

With letters to read and respond to every few days, the month of August flies by for Harry. It helps that aside from when he first came by and his aunt informed him he was to move his things to the upstairs spare bedroom, his family has mostly ignored him. Their daily interactions were limited to letting him know meals are ready, and one time when Uncle Vernon told Harry to stop letting his owl come in and out of the bedroom before the neighbors noticed. Hedwig was less than pleased with the restriction, but Harry opts to avoid any issues by only letting her out at night.

Draco’s letters were an insight into the world he would be entering in a way that reading through his books could not provide.Occasionally, his comments about Muggles or Muggle-borns, directly or what seems to be implied, make him pause. Harry tries to avoid complaining about the Dursleys once he notices, because he doesn’t think it helps his case when he tries to explain to Draco that Muggles aren’t all bad.

After all, Harry isn’t exactly Muggle-born, but his mother was, and he feels like he may as well be when he grew up knowing nothing about magic. It makes him wonder if others think the same, or if maybe Draco grew up in a family similar to the Dursleys in that they hated people who were different. It meant either having an entire world that might think less of his mom if she were alive, or having a friend who might have a lot more in common with his dreaded cousin than he’d hoped. Harry prefers to not worry about it now and just enjoy having someone his own age to talk to for the time being.

He’ll worry about everything else once school begins.

~~~

DRACO wakes up on the first of September practically vibrating with excitement, and much earlier than needed, as the sun is only just beginning to lighten the sky outside his window. It’s not as large as the one in his room back at Malfoy Manor, but this residence is in London, and therefore much closer to King’s Cross Station, where he’ll need to be in a few short hours. He calls for a House Elf to ready a bath for him and is a whirl of movement as he double checks his trunks to ensure that nothing was forgotten when the House Elves finished packing it the night before. They didn’t, of course, but he needs to move, to do something, or he feels like he might explode.

He’s been waiting his whole life to go to Hogwarts. He’s imagined grand adventures and wow-ing other students with his natural talents at magic and Quidditch, and winning the House Cup for Slytherin for the next seven years. Sure, now that he knows he’ll be going to school with the Harry Potter, he realizes that maybe he won’t be the most popular, but he’s basically made the most famous kid in school his best friend before anyone else has even met him! So they’ll just be the most popular students together.

The Malfoys had hosted an end of summer party to celebrate the incoming class of Slytherins a week before the term was to begin. Such get-togethers was really an excuse for the parents to talk privately of whatever matters adults spoke of, while the children basically bragged and attempted to ingratiate themselves with whoever their parents had told them to, often those present considered one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, or pestered the older among them to tell them more about Hogwarts.

This specific gathering had only those whose families had children of Draco’s age and would be attending Hogwarts for the first time. Gregory Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode, Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, Theodore Nott, Gemma Runcorn, and Daphne Greengrass--with her little sister Astoria in tow--were all expected to be sorted into Slytherin with Draco. They talked about what they expected based on information gleaned from older Slytherin students they knew, or some of the wild rumors they couldn’t seem to get confirmation or denial about, such as the Sorting being a test of skills. It quickly devolved into comparing the quality and price of the things they would be bringing to school.

“Did you know,” Pansy suddenly piped up, interrupting Daphne Greengrass bragging about robes she’d gotten in Paris over the summer for school, “that Harry Potter is supposed to be starting this year too?”

A new round of rumors and speculations they’d overheard from their parents were shared. Draco had been tempted to tell them that he had met the famous Boy Who Lived, the elusive child celebrity no one had ever seen. At least not accurately. The Daily Prophet had an artist rendering every year when they ran their anniversary article about the end of the Wizarding War, but the only description that anyone knew to be accurate was the lightning bolt scar on Harry Potter’s forehead.

Instead he had kept it to himself, thinking it would be much funnier to present his good friend Harry Potter to them all on the Hogwarts Express. Imagining their expressions had delighted him, and as he gets ready, still brings a grin to his face. It helps to pass the time, which seems to drag on as he waits for it to be time to leave. Once his parents are awake and breakfast is served, though, it seems to be no time at all before they are at the station.

They aren’t the first ones there, although he thinks if he had rushed his parents through breakfast, they might have managed it. Draco is certain his mother, who would normally only allow them to be either promptly on-time or fashionably late, is indulging his excitement. Being early means he practically has his pick of compartments. He opts for one in the middle, the House Elf that accompanied them puts his trunk in the compartment for him before disappearing back to Malfoy Manor, and then he goes to say goodbye to his parents. He allows his mother to fuss over him, smoothing his hair back and adjusting his robes as he tries not to impatiently look around. Even his parents are in for a surprise, as he has only told them that he’s been writing to the student he met at Diagon Alley with the Slytherin Head of House, Professor Snape, but not who that student is.

“Lucius!”

The Malfoy family turns as one to the voice calling. Mr. Parkinson is heading over, wife and daughter in tow. He’s pushing a cart with two trunks, presumably Pansy’s. It’s left to one side as the parents start talking, and Pansy comes over to Draco’s side, asking if he’s picked a compartment and where, so she can go sit with him.

Draco doesn’t particularly want to sit with any of the girls he knows. For one, in his small experience, they tend to get bored with talk of Quidditch. For another, the compartments look like they’d fit about four to six comfortably, which means there’s just enough room for him, Harry, Theodore, and likely Vincent and Gregory, and still be able to sit one more. But if Pansy joins them, she’ll want at least one other girl to come, and then they’ll be over by one or squished in together.

So he lies. ““Somewhere towards the front.” He makes a vague gesture, glad that his mother, if she notices, doesn’t correct him even though he knows she kept an eye on where he went when he boarded. Narcissa Malfoy always knows where Draco is at all times.

Pansy nods her head, intercepting Crabbe and Goyle when they head over to get their help with her trunk. Ordering them, really, and Draco realizes that since she got to them first, they don’t know where he’s really sitting. Ah well, he’ll have to try to catch them on their own otherwise they’ll just have to sit with Pansy the whole trip.

Hoping to catch Theodore before Pansy does so he can at least give him the right compartment, he suddenly catches sight of a familiar figure coming through the barrier from the Muggle side of King’s Cross station.

“Oh, he’s here!” Draco announces, catching the attention the adults with the outburst. Before either of his parents can react, Draco is off, weaving his way through the crowd.

Harry is moving slowly, pushing the cart with his heavy trunk and his caged owl, fascinated with the sight before him. He’d known, logically, that the professors wouldn’t have lied to him about how to get to the platform. It hadn’t prevented him from feeling like he was going to crash into a solid wall and cause a scene as he moved towards the barrier. He’s surprised and delighted to instead find a whole hidden section of the station. There are people all around, adults saying goodbye to their children, students greeting each other and gathering in small groups, and then there’s a blond boy standing in front of him, bringing Harry to an abrupt stop.

“There you are,” Draco says by way of greeting. “What took you so long?”

“Hey! We left a bit later than I’d hoped,” Harry explains. “It’s like a two to three hour drive for us. How’d you get here?”

“We have a London residence,” Draco explains, his tone suggesting that this should be obvious. “And of course, with Father’s connections, we got a Ministry car to drive us. Come on then, my parents will want to meet you before we board.”

Harry follows after Draco, slowing his steps when he gets a good look at the group awaiting them. He recognizes Mrs. Malfoy from the glimpse he got of her at Diagon Alley, and Draco’s practically the spitting image of his father, so it’s easy to figure out which is Mr. Malfoy. The rest of the adults, however, he can’t begin to guess who they are. What’s more, all eyes are on him and although he’d tried to remind himself that morning that this might happen once people realized who he was, there’s something distinctly unnerving about the way he’s being watched right now. They leave his cart by the train entrance, just to the side so as to not be in anyone’s way, and then Draco leads him over to the group watching them.

“Mother, Father.” Draco stops in front of his parents. “This is the boy I met at Diagon Alley, Harry Potter. Harry, my parents Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.”

“H-How do you do?” Harry mutters, trying to stand still under their scrutiny.

“Why, Mr. Harry Potter. This is a pleasant surprise,” Mr. Malfoy says, smiling. It’s not a very friendly look. “How exciting for the students of Hogwarts to get to go to school with the wizarding world’s biggest hero.”

Something about the way Mr. Malfoy says it makes Harry feel like he’s being insulted or mocked to his face. “I, uh, I should put my stuff on the train.”

Harry forces a smile, and then starts to move towards the train. He’s sure it’s his imagination, but he is certain he can feel their gaze on his back and he’s distinctly uncomfortable. He has a hard time trying to explain to himself what it is about these adults that makes him want to flee, as it’s not quite the instinctual knowing he’s occasionally felt since the day he received his Hogwarts letter. But it’s close enough that, as trusting his instincts thus far with the wizarding world has turned out in his favor, he thinks he would be better off leaving their company as soon as possible.

“Hold on.” Draco hurries after him. “Go right from here, and it’s the fourth one down. My trunks have the Malfoy crest on them.”

He’s basically being ordered, which might have bothered him if he weren’t so desperate to get away right now. Harry instead just nods before he grabs Hedwig’s cage, deciding to get her inside first and moving the heavier trunk once he knows for sure where he’s going. Finding Draco’s trunk with his family crest, an image he’d grown accustomed to seeing pressed into the wax Draco used to seal his letters, was rather easy. He set Hedwig’s cage inside, and then went back to get his trunk. He pauses briefly before stepping out, hoping to avoid notice, but a group of students coming off the train block him from view for a few moments as they stand around just a few steps away.

Quick as he can, he grabs his trunk and starts to try to single handedly drag it up. “Need a hand?”

Harry looks over his shoulder to find a tall, lanky redhead. “Oh, uh, yeah. That’d be great.”

The redhead looks back down the train and yells out, “Oy! Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!” Looking back at Harry, the boy waved him away before coming around to grab one end of the trunk. When another, identical redhead appears, he grabs the other without question and the two lift the trunk onto the train.

Harry quickly follows, directing them over to the right compartment. There’s an eyebrow raised at seeing the crest on the trunks already there, but they simply lift Harry’s trunk before nodding at him.

“There you go, firstie. All set.”

“Thanks,” Harry replies, pushing his glasses up.

He stands out of their way to allow them to leave the compartment, debating on whether to introduce himself or not. Before he can decide, one of them seems to take a closer look, hitting the other’s arm suddenly. “Hey, is that a scar? You wouldn’t happen to be--”

“Harry!”

Harry turns around briefly to see Draco approaching, but his attention is drawn back to the twins as one says, “Well, we’ll be off then!”

“Oh, okay, bye!”

“The train will be leaving soon,” Draco tells Harry, eyes watching the twins leave for a moment before looking over at him. “I only saw a few of my friends, so I think they might be sitting with Pansy. I told her I was towards the front so she wouldn’t sit with us, but I think she told them the same, so they might be with her.”

Harry frowns a little, thinking he doesn’t want to have to try to move his trunk. “Did you want to move over to where they are?” he asks.

“Hm, no,” Draco responds after a moment’s consideration. “I’ll tell them I’m back here, see if they want to move. Do you want to come with me to find them?”

“I think I’ll sit with Hedwig, I don’t think she’s used to all this activity yet.” It’s an excuse, when really Harry just doesn’t think he’s up for another group of people staring at him just yet, but when he looks over at his owl she seems to understand and starts flapping her wings and hooting loudly. “I should probably sit with her until she’s calmed down.”

Draco shrugs. “Suit yourself. I’ll be back.”

Harry closes the compartment door, goes and then sits down, reaching a finger into Hedwig’s cage to stroke her head. “Thanks.”

She hoots at him once in reply before settling down. Harry turns to look out of the window, the panel above open so he can hear the sounds of the crowd of parents and students, many of them starting to say their goodbyes. The platform is starting to clear, an indication that they’ll be departing soon. A flash of red catches his eye, and he sees a group of redheads, only just visible as they stand a little ways down from his compartment

He thinks for a moment it might be one of the twins, but decides what he can see of them isn’t quite right. This boy is shorter, though the hair is the right shade. The woman standing with him speaks up, and Harry can hear them clearly.

“All right, Ron, you be sure to behave. Listen to Percy and, what’s that on your nose? Come here.”

A younger boy jerks into view as he pulls away from the woman. “ Mom , geroff!”

The twins appear then, and with them standing together, Harry notes the resemblance. He listens to them joke and tease the younger boy, who grows obviously more annoyed and sullen with the teasing, and then yet another boy appears. He’s already changed into his robe with a badge on his chest, and the twins start to tease him about being a prefect as well. Harry thinks it’s rather nice, to come from a family close enough to tease like that, even if the twins’ siblings seem to be annoyed by it. The one already in his robes allowed their mother to kiss his cheek, said goodbye to someone outside of Harry’s line of sight, and then seemed to board again.

That was when one of the twins said, “Oh, guess who we just met on the train, Mom?”

“Who?”

“Harry Potter !”

The one out of sight suddenly piped up, and it sounded like a little girl, her voice carrying as she loudly begged to be allowed on the train to see him. Harry leaned away from the window then, hoping to stay out of sight. How embarrassing would it be to be caught eavesdropping on them as they started to talk about him?

“No, Ginny, the train is about to leave. You can’t get on,” the boys’ mother responded, cutting off the little girl’s begging. “Are you sure, Fred?”

“Pretty sure,” was the response. “Saw a bit of a scar on his forehead. Malfoy’s kid called him ��Harry’, too.”

“Malfoy ?” The way the woman said the name made Harry frown automatically, not wanting someone to say anything bad about his only friend. Then he remembered Lucius Malfoy’s smile and thought perhaps, if that’s who she was thinking of when she said it, the reaction might be warranted. “Are they friends, do you think?”

“Who knows? Maybe they just met? Anyway, we should be getting on, Mum. We’ll know for sure during Sorting. Who knows? Maybe he’ll be a Gryffindor!”

“Be sure to let me know,” she tells them. “Try to befriend him if he is, okay? Poor thing, being an orphan raised goodness knows where or with who, he could probably use all the friends he can get.”

Harry decides to close the window, distinctly uncomfortable with hearing the obvious pity, and not particularly interested in hearing any more. Especially since the little girl starts to cry, half-pleading and half-demanding to be allowed to go with her brothers or at least be allowed to get on and see Harry. It sounds like the beginning of a tantrum, at least in his experience based on his cousin’s tried and true methods, so he is relieved that closing the window prevents him from hearing the rest of it.

What he is able to hear, loud and clear, is the train's whistle as it goes off to announce their departure. Outside, it looks like there are no more students on the platform, instead just a few parents and younger siblings, waving at students in other windows before leaving or waiting to see the train off.

The door to the compartment opens as the train starts to move, and the youngest of the redheads is standing there. He’s taller than he appeared while standing outside, Harry notes absently. Ron, as they’d called him, starts to back out with an apology when he suddenly stops, staring at Harry.

“Are you him?” he asks.

Harry blinks at him for a moment, surprised. “Who?”

“Harry Potter?”

“Oh, him. I mean, yeah, that’s me.”

His eyes go over to the trunks, and he frowns. Harry follows the direction he’s looking at and realizes it’s Draco’s trunks that have drawn that reaction. “I’m Ron Weasley. Are you really friends with the Malfoys’ kid?” Blue eyes lower again to meet Harry’s gaze. “You shouldn’t be, you know. Just warning ya, they’re-”

“We’re what?” Behind Ron stands Draco, arms crossed, scowling.The redhead half turns, still standing in the compartment doorway.

“Draco’s my friend,” Harry interrupts before either can say anything. “So can you step aside so he can come sit down?”

Draco doesn’t wait for the other to obey, basically shoving him aside to come in and sit across from Harry. He gives him a smug look, crossing his arms as he waits to see what he’s going to do. He knows this kid’s type, trying to ingratiate himself with someone better than him. Clearly, he thinks, Harry can spot the type too.

“Weasley, you said, right?” Draco drawls. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

The stubborn look that comes over the other’s face makes Harry think that this might turn into a bigger confrontation when one of the twins comes by. “There you are, Ron. Are you bothering people?”

“Yes,” Draco announces instantly, frowning at seeing another redhead.

“Really, Ron, can’t leave you alone for a second.” The other twin appears, grabbing the youngest sibling by looping an arm around his neck and dragging him back away from the door. “Come on, you. You’re with us; Mum’s orders.”

“We didn’t introduce ourselves earlier,” says the remaining twin. “I’m Fred Weasley, that was George--” the other twin, clearly still within earshot yells a hello “--and that was our brother Ron. Our fault for telling him Harry Potter was here. He’s not used to meeting famous people. Consider him an overzealous fan.”

Harry blushes at the reminder. “Uh, no, no worries. Nice to meet you. Thanks for the help earlier.”

“No worries.” George waves a hand dismissively. “We’ll see you later. Oy, Fred! You just passed our compartment!”

The compartment door is closed behind them, and Draco shakes his head. “Weasley, the youngest one, clearly wanted to be friends with you because you’re famous. Like I wrote you, you’ll run into those types all over. Who knows, maybe the twins were in on it too.”

“You think?” Harry considers it for a moment then shrugs. “George and Fred seemed nice even before they knew who I was earlier. As for their brother, well, I just don’t like people talking about my friends. Or telling me what to do. If he wanted to be friends, he should’ve just said so.”

Draco is surprised at Harry’s reasoning, and starts laughing. “You’re weird, you know that?”

“What happened with your friends?” Harry asks when Draco’s done laughing.

“Ah, I ran into Theodore. Pansy convinced them I’d be sitting with her so they sat in her compartment. I told him we’d be back here, but it’s fine. They were being rather loud anyway. And this way, we don’t have to worry about Crabbe and Goyle trying to steal any snacks we buy. They’re always hungry.”

“Their names are Crabbe and Goyle?”

“Family names,” Draco clarifies.

“Why do you call some of them by their first name and some by their last?”

“Ah, it’s considered polite to only address those you’re close with by their first name, and everyone else by their last name.”

“Oh, so when I wrote you that first letter, it should have said ‘Malfoy’ instead of ‘Draco’?” Harry wonders aloud.

Draco shrugs. “Well, yes, but it’s fine. I realized since you were raised with Muggles, you probably didn’t know any better.”

“I think it’s less because I grew up with Muggles, and more that your family is super upper class,” Harry argues. “That sounds like the kind of rule rich people have.”

“Hm, maybe.” Draco thinks it over, never having thought of it like that. “Although,” he points out after a moment, “didn’t your parents leave you a bunch of money? So you’re rich, too.”

“Honestly, I still forget,” Harry admits. “I’ve never really had my own money to buy whatever.”

There was a knock on the door and then a woman opened the compartment door with a dimpled smile asking if they wanted anything from the cart she was pushing.

Draco grins. “Well, here’s your chance to spend some, then.”

Harry jumps up, more than a little hungry after skipping breakfast, only to realize he wasn’t familiar with any of the snacks on offer. “Wow, I’ve never seen any of these.”

“Are you joking?” Draco shakes his head, answering himself. “No, of course you’re not. We’ll just have to take some of everything then.”

Harry insists on paying, and then dumps the giant load on the seat next to Draco, sitting on the same side so the snacks are piled between them. Draco insists on letting him have the box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, laughing loudly when Harry immediately eats a green one he’d assumed would be apple or lime flavored only for it to turn out to be grass. The Cauldron Cakes and Pumpkin Pasties are great follow-ups to recover from the strange jelly bean. When Harry opens a Chocolate Frog before Draco can explain it will jump, he’s so amused he opens a couple of the other ones, both of them laughing as the compartment is momentarily filled with half a dozen hopping frogs. All but one have stopped when the door opens and a round-faced boy is momentarily caught off guard when it suddenly jumps at him.

“Trevor?” He pulls the treat off the front of his robe where it jumps and visibly deflates at seeing it’s just chocolate. “Oh, no. Have you seen a toad? I can’t find mine.”

Harry shakes his head, smiling. “A toad? No. Sorry.” Draco shakes his head as well, and the boy leaves.

Once he’s gone, Draco starts looking through the cards, showing them to Harry and explaining what they are when he realizes it’s yet another thing the Boy Who Lived knows nothing about. He’s highly amused at Harry’s surprise when, right before his eyes, Merlin stretches and then moves out of frame. But it’s Harry’s reaction to seeing the Albus Dumbledore, frowning down at it as he studies it, that piques Draco’s interest.

“What is it?”

Harry looks up at him, shrugging as he puts the card aside with the others he’d gotten. “Ah, no, I was just surprised. I’ve heard of Albus Dumbledore, but it’s the first I’m seeing of him.” Harry stops, wondering if he should explain the feeling of distrust that comes over him at hearing the name--and now seeing --Albus Dumbledore, but not quite sure how to explain himself. He has no frame of reference for what might be weird in the wizarding world, so he doesn’t know if this sense of déjà vu he gets is normal or not. “He’s older than I expected,” he finishes lamely.

“He’s pretty famous too,” Draco informs him. “Father doesn’t like him.”

Harry’s tempted to ask for more info but they’re once again interrupted by someone opening the door. The boy who’d asked about the toad is back, standing behind the girl who’d opened the door. She has brown skin, bushy brown hair, and brown eyes that look around the room, taking in both boys, the owl, and the pile of wrappers and uneaten snacks quickly before gazing back at the boys. When she speaks, her large front teeth stand out, and her tone is distinctively bossy, but something about her is so familiar that it takes Harry a moment to put together what she’s said.

He is too busy realizing that the same sense he’d gotten from Draco back in Diagon Alley, that had prompted him to befriend him, is coming over him again twofold. Somehow, he knows that Draco might be his first friend, but this girl was going to be his best friend. He should probably look into why he gets these feelings at all.

“Have either of you seen a toad? Neville’s lost one.”

Draco sighs. “Harry already told him we haven’t. It’s just a toad anyway.”

“Harry? As in Harry Potter?” the girl asks, eyes moving from Draco over to Harry. Blinking, Harry just nods. “I’m Hermione Granger and this is Neville Longbottom. I know all about you. You’re mentioned in our History of Magic book, of course, but I got some extra books for background reading and you’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts , as well as Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century .”

Harry stares, surprised, looks over at Draco who shrugs, then back at her. “Am I?”

“Didn’t you know? I’d have learned all I could if it were me,” she announces.

“Yes, well, it’s not. Shouldn’t you be off looking for a toad?” Draco reminds her.

Hermione frowns at Draco. “No need to be rude. Who are you?”

“Draco Malfoy. We need to change since we’ll likely arrive soon, so leave already,” Draco orders.

“Draco.” Harry shakes his head at him, then looks back at Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom. “I’ll keep an eye out for the toad, but we haven’t seen ‘em.”

“All right, thank you.” She starts to close the door, telling Neville, “Come on, let’s ask them down there.”

“Longbottom’s family is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight,” Draco says after they’ve left. “Granger, on the other hand, is probably Muggle-born . They really shouldn’t be letting any of them into Hogwarts, I think. Keep it in the old wizarding families.”

“What?” Harry challenges. “Why does it matter?”

Draco stares at him for a moment like he can’t believe he’s asking. “They’re just not the same! They’re not brought up to know our ways or anything.”

“Neither have I,” Harry points out, then reminds his friend, “And my parents might have been a witch and wizard, but my mum was a Muggle-born. If she hadn’t been accepted at Hogwarts, my parents wouldn’t have met and I wouldn’t be here.”

Draco is about to say something more to defend his point, but he closes his mouth with an audible click at this reminder. He wants to push back, make Harry understand why Muggle-borns just aren’t the same, but he can’t think of how to do so without sounding like he’s insulting Harry’s mother. If Harry got annoyed with Ron for seeming to insult Draco, a friend he’s only just made, chances are insulting his mum is a surefire way to make him angry.

They change without exchanging another word, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Harry, wondering how he can get his friend to understand why his way of thinking is wrong. Draco, trying to think of a way to get through to Harry that pureblood witches and wizards are superior. It’s an awkward silence, and when they’ve finished changing, neither seems sure of what to say or how to change the subject. Finally, at a voice announcing they’re about to arrive and are to leave their luggage on the train, they decide to divvy up the remaining snacks and stuff them into their pockets.

When the train stops, they shuffle out into the corridor and make their way onto the platform outside. The night is cooler here, farther up in the north, and Harry hopes they aren’t going to be outside for long. It’s with relief that he recognizes the booming voice calling for first years. When Hagrid spots him and greets him, Harry’s mood is instantly lifted.

Draco is standing next to him still, and by the way he’s looking around Harry thinks he might be trying to find his other friends. He wonders if their brief friendship is due to be over already. Still, Harry nudges him and nods his head towards Hagrid and the lamp he’s holding as he calls the first years over before heading over. He doesn’t want Draco to think he doesn’t want to be friends anymore, but he also doesn’t know if now that he’s been reminded that Harry’s parentage isn’t as “pure” as his own, if he’ll want to stay friends. All he can do is act like he normally would and leave Draco to make his own choice.

Hagrid leads them all down through a slippery dark path down to the edge of a large lake where they all get a glimpse of the castle for the first time. He gives them all a moment before announcing they’re to get into boats, keeping to 4 per boat, and he waves Harry over clearly to join him. When he reaches Hagrid, he’s holding up a toad he’s just found. Neville Longbottom cries out the toad’s name, rushing forward to claim the animal, and Hermione Granger comes following after him at a slower pace. It’s clear they’re going to also join Hagrid’s boat, and so Harry assumes even if he’d been inclined to join, chances are Draco will take one look at who else is there and opt to sit with his friends instead.

It seems all the more certain when after getting in the boat, Harry spots Ron Weasley making a beeline for their boat to claim the last spot.

So he’s surprised when Draco materializes in front of him, climbing in and muttering, “Mark my words, Potter. Longbottom is going to let that toad go and knock us all in the water trying to catch him.”

“Hope you know how to swim then, Malfoy,” Harry answers with a grin.

Then they’re off across the lake, making their way towards the glittering castle on the other side.

Story Notes:

Title is from a Pink Floyd song.

#Because I Could Not Stop for Death fic #BICNSFD #Harmony fanfic #HP fanfic #Harry Potter

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