#but i beat the story tried a bit of shiny hunting and never came back to scarvi

[pokemoncreepypasta]

My Shining Star

[STORY SOURCE]

Up until some recent events, I used to be an aspiring shiny hunter. Technically I was pretty good at it, too, at least by encounter standards. But even though I was great at finding my fair share of shiny Pokémon , I’ve never been able to keep any of them.

The first one of these shiny Pokémon I found was by a random encounter. I’d gotten lost in Rock Tunnel after forgetting to bring Flash, and spent so long in there that I ran out of Repels. Just as I was giving up hope that I’d be able to escape on my first run, she appeared.

I knew about shiny Pokémon, but hadn't ever thought I'd encounter one of my own in the wild. I was unprepared, and after a moment of staring in surreal wonder, I concentrated on figuring out how to catch her with my limited supplies. Thankfully it wasn't very hard, and soon I had my first legit shiny.

I normally wasn't creative with naming my Pokémon, but I wanted her to have a special name. I asked my mom for help, and she suggested "Star." I liked it, but the name itself seemed short and boring, so I added a couple stars to the ends to give her name a little flair.

I was beyond excited to put my first shiny into my team, and plowed through the rest of the cave. She was the light at the end of the tunnel, and I had to get out to the nearest PC, because I knew a shiny baby Cubone was waiting for me to adopt her.

I quickly fell in love with the little green dinosaur, and soon she was the shining star of my team. I used her more than my starter, and neglected the rest of my party a bit in the process, but still made it through the game alright. Setbacks didn't matter when I had a shiny.

Lots of time and multiple trips through the Elite Four later, I proudly turned ★Star★ into a level 100 Marowak. She was the first Pokémon I ever raised to level 100, and I couldn't have been prouder of her.

It had been a couple years, and I was starting to feel unsatisfied with just ★Star★. I was itching for more, and felt like I probably should have found some other random encounters by now, with all the time I'd spent playing.

Feeling inspired by all the shiny hunter videos I'd been binging on YouTube, I decided to start taking up shiny hunting. I was feeling ambitious, and decided to go straight to hunting for a shiny legendary Pokémon. I was a weird player who didn't really bother going after the birds or Mewtwo in my HeartGold, since I planned on transferring up my legends from my LeafGreen. I decided to rework ★Star★'s moveset for capturing legendary Pokémon.

The moveset I settled on was Bonemerang, False Swipe, Stone Edge, and Swords Dance. I decided to keep her moveset mostly offensive because she was still a member of my team, and not just a shiny-catcher. I planned on replacing False Swipe with Aerial Ace at some point, but I never got the chance to.

I decided to pick Mewtwo as my target. Lots of people find green shiny Pokémon overbearing and unattractive, but ★Star★ made me fond of them. Plush, Mewtwo was awesome, and I thought the two of them would look great together.

I spoke to ★Star★ aloud, saying, "Are you ready to do some shiny hunting, ★Star★?"

"★Star★ let out a roar!"

I thought she was just as enthusiastic as me.

I made it to Mewtwo, saved my game, and started the tedious process of soft resetting.

I’ll spare the details of how long it took, but eventually I came across the sparkling green Mewtwo.

I led with my team's Ampharos to paralyze it, and switched to ★Star★.

I remember being very lucky with this fight at first, with Mewtwo being fully paralyzed every turn.

I used Swords Dance to fully buff ★Star★'s attack stat so False Swipe would do as much damage as possible.

But even though I swore that I had chosen to use False Swipe, ★Star★ proceeded to use Bonemerang.

Shocked, confused and distressed, I watched as ★Star★ mercilessly beat the shiny Mewtwo down, knocking it out in one hit with her increased stats.

I felt crushed and dejected as I went back to the overworld. I blamed myself, thinking I had misclicked the wrong move and killed the Mewtwo myself. In my wave of disbelief, I absentmindedly talked to ★Star★.

"★Star★ is green with envy!"

I decided to go back to square one and start over.

A dozen thousand resets later, I saw it sparkle again and I was shaking with anticipation. Part of me felt twitchy and paranoid, like I should have used my Master Ball right away.

I decided against it because I wanted to hunt the birds later, but decided that if the Mewtwo seemed like it would run low on moves, then I'd use it as a last resort.

I probably should have listened to my guts though, because the same thing happened all over again. I knew for certain this time that I had chosen False Swipe, but the game purposefully made ★Star★ use Bonemerang. I saw it completely clear.

After seeing the Mewtwo go down a second time, I just cursed and slammed my desk a bit. I glared accusingly at my Marowak.

I decided to put my shiny hunting on hold. I used an Escape Rope to leave, and decided to place ★Star★ in the PC, quarantining her in an empty box for a time-out.

As I dejectedly hunted for a third time, I thought to myself what was wrong with my game. I wondered if it was just glitchy, or if I was misinterpreting the situation. I decided to convince myself that it was a mistake on the game's part; otherwise I wouldn't have been able to handle killing the Mewtwo twice in a row.

Finally, it sparkled one last time. I decided not to screw around while reclaiming this shiny. I had hunted it twice before, and decided to just use the Master Ball on it.

I had earned this.

After the initial rush of finally obtaining the shiny, I decided not to nickname it until I thought of something good, and watched as it got sent to the PC. I excitedly saved my game, and made my way out of the cave and to the nearest Pokémon Center.

But when I got there, the Mewtwo wasn't anywhere to be seen.

I shouted curses in confusion as I scrolled through every box in a state of denial. Where did it go, what could I have possibly done? I thought of all the ways I couldn't possibly messed up, did I have an evil hacked Pokémon from the GTS that deleted it, was this actually a bootleg game and Nintendo's anti-piracy revenge was to delete my legendary?

After a few minutes of searching, I gave up. My Mewtwo was gone.

I scrolled back to ★Star★'s isolated box and looked at my only green shiny in mourning. Obviously it wasn't something wrong with just her, but the game itself. In a game as glitchy as this, I was seriously worried that I might lose her, too.

After looking at her for a bit, it seemed like she might've been looking at me? I wasn't sure if she was supposed to do that, but in a game that was acting up like this, I didn't doubt it.

I took her out of the PC and put her at the front of my party to talk to her, to see if anything else was up.

"★Star★ nodded slowly."

She only did more random friendly things after that. Quite chipper for someone whose life might be threatened, I thought.

I decided to trade her over to Platinum for safe keeping. I wasn't sure what to do about the rest of my Pokémon on HeartGold, but ★Star★ was the most important one to me right now.

As I traded her over, I noticed that her eyes were red now, instead of the green I was just looking at. I was off-put by this inconsistency, especially with the recent events surrounding her. I forced myself to brush it off, however, notice I could do about it.

Even though I had an unfortunate experience with my HeartGold, my thirst for more shinies still persisted. Maybe it was the fact I had lost my shiny three times that I really had to fill the void, now.  A couple weeks later, I found out about a method of shiny hunting called chaining, and wanted to try it out. I felt a little more at ease, since if you accidentally killed a shiny with this method, the chain wouldn't break, and you could keep going. Plus, Platinum should've been fine.

I chose Route 208, as it had a good selection of Pokémon for me to choose from. I wasn't picky, so I just started chaining whatever Pokémon I liked until I got a decent chain. I heard that the shiny odds max out at a chain of 40, so after that you can just keep resetting the radar until the grass sparkles.

I landed on Roselia, and sent out my shining star Marowak.

I started with False Swipe, since I wouldn't need to buff up ★Star★ for a LV. 19 Pokémon.

"★Star★ used Swords Dance!"

Oh no.

I panicked as memories of the last incident came flooding back, and how it had started out with her disobeying. Not giving her a chance to kill it, I frantically switched to the items menu to start throwing PokéBalls instead.

(Name omitted for personal reasons.)

I had plenty of them, so I stared throwing Ultra Balls, since they had the highest odds. At least one of these would probably work.

" blocked the Ball!"

"Don't     !"

I tried throwing one, but it failed, as if I tried using it on a trainer's Pokémon.

I had no idea what in the world was going on, what could be stopping me from catching a wild Pokémon? Was my Platinum glitched out too? Was I cursed??

I tried using different balls, but nothing would work.

Eventually, I ran out of PokéBalls to throw. I'd failed the shiny.

Frustrated, but not enough to kill the Roselia, I fled the battle.

I had no idea what to do after that, and was exasperated. I wanted to berate myself, and that I should've tried test catching a normal Pokémon in Platinum first to make sure it was going to work okay. But really, how was I supposed to know that was going to happen? And always, conveniently when I was in the middle of hunting a shiny. I thought of berated my parents instead, if they had bought all my Pokémon games for me on eBay.

Was it really my games, thought? I don't even know if you can trade Pokémon from fake games. Was it my DS could it have been hacked? Can you even bootleg a DS? I tried going to the Internet for answers, and read some Reddit and random Pokémon forum posts about glitches and bootlegs for an hour, but gave up without finding a real conclusion.

So, I'd given up hunting for some time. But, I hadn't gotten tired of Pokémon. I bought Black for myself, and played through the story just fine.

I found out you could get a Shiny Charm if you completed the Pokédex. That made me excited, until I remembered my past luck. Was it worth trying again?

Shortly after transferring up all my Pokémon, I decided, yes. It was. I went for the hatching method this time, since the Pokémon ends up right in your party afterwards- no catching, no PC transfer. It would be my final test, and if THIS didn't work, I would officially give up on ever getting nice things.

Foreign Ditto in hand, I went to work. I went for a shiny Flygon, since they were one of the best looking, and it'd be a nice addition to my competitive team.

One long hunt and a really late night later, eyelids barely able to stay open, I saw it.

I'd never seen anything more beautiful.

Skipping the nickname, I rushed to immediately save my game, wasting no time. I checked my party to see my Trapinch was still there, and chalked it up as a success. I was an official shiny hunter now.

Since ★Star★ was level 100, I figured she could battle for my baby Trapinch until she could hold her own in battle. I only wanted to take her up a few levels, so I could personally train her afterwards. Just raising her immediately into a Flygon would be too soon.

I attached an Exp. Share to her, and started running around in the tall grass. After a little bit of grinding, my Trapinch made it up to level 8 before I accidentally stepped into the thick grass and triggered a wild double battle.

Knowing the wild Pokémon were too strong for the underleveled baby Trapinch, I wanted to flee, but I first noticed ★Star★'s sprite as it asked me what to do.

The end of her bone facing the wild Pokémon was no longer symmetrical, being sharpened at the end of it. I'd seen her sprite enough times to know it wasn't supposed to look like this.

I tried to flee, but it failed.

"★Star★ used Swords Dance!"

"The wild Pidove is watching carefully!" 

"The wild Patrat is watching carefully!" 

"Trapinch is watching carefully!" 

★Star★ had started using moves on her own. Stunned, I tried to switch out.

"★Star★ can't be switched out!"

Giving up, I told ★Star★ to use Stone Edge on the Pidove, and told the Trapinch to use Bite on Patrat.

"★Star★ ignored orders!" 

"★Star★ used Bonemerang!"

I gasped as she struck my Trapinch instead.

"★Star★ is green with envy!"

As soon as I read that text, it hit me. This wasn't any ordinary friendly fire.

"Trapinch fainted!"

It finally allowed me to run, so I immediately tapped the button and rushed to my party to see the damage.

My Trapinch was gone.

I tried resetting to bring her back, but it was hopeless. My shiny new baby had been murdered.

Connecting all the dots in my head, I realized the reason I'd failed every encounter was because of ★Star★.

My grief and fear quickly turned into outrage. I couldn't believe she'd done this to me. She'd made me suffer hunt after hunt, just to take every shiny away from me.

This was the source of my games acting strange, and I knew there was only one way to correct it.

Feeling rash, I rushed over to the PC and hovered over the "Release" option for a few minutes.

"★Star★ was released."

It hurt to let her go, but I didn't want my game behaving strangely with her around.

"★Star★ came back!"

"★Star★ will never leave you."

But she refused.

Resorting to desperate measures, I did the only other thing I could think of.

I traded the stubborn Marowak over to my nearly empty White version that I never got around to playing, and deleted the save file.

"Deleting all saved data... Don’t turn off the power."

"★Star★ will n"

Sayonara, ★Star★.

After deleting the save file, I thought things would start working like they should. Sometimes, I'd replay other Pokémon games just for the fun of it, hoping I'd find other shiny Pokémon with ★Star★ gone.

Almost comically, I somehow thought it would be a good idea to go full circle and try hunting on HeartGold for a shiny starter. I had heard from other shiny hunters that it was an easy hunt, and it was, only taking a few days.

I affectionately named him "Chico."

My first step into the tall grass, and...

"★Star★ is green with envy!"

I had never been so unhappy to see a shiny.

I guess she's been out in the wild all these months. And looking at her sprite, I can only wonder what she's been up to. I wonder how she feels to see me again?

Oh, no.

“Can’t escape!”

"★Star★ used Bonemerang!"

"Chico fainted!"

Of course, Chico was no match.

The game froze after I blacked out.

I figure it was because ★Star★ killed my only Pokémon.

"The save file is corrupted. The previous save file will be loaded."

My save file, corrupted with the loss of my starter's data, brought me back right to this spot that I was all too familiar with. Through frustrated tears, I begrudgingly went to pick a normal starter so I could play the game normally.

“I dare you to love again.”

And I’ve never found a shiny since.

[c-rose2081]

A Letter from Grace

—

My life, as most people’s do, began at an ungodly hour on October 31st, 1918. Father admitted once that it was the longest witching hour of his life, and that he hadn’t slept at all the days prior due to worry over the birth. I was born three months earlier then expected, and mother liked to say that I was the smallest, most fragile little baby she’d ever laid eyes on. Just the size of a decent eggplant from the market; perfectly suited to sit in the palm of your hand.

Tension was high that night, as Influenza had already taken many infants in the local Hospital. So I was born in the dark privacy of my Grandfathers New York Estate, passed down for three generations already. Father was excited to have a fourth Generation to which he could pass his legacy, or so I was told. Swaddled expertly by a matron of almost sixty years who Mother claimed to trust with her life, for a single moment everything was perfect; just my parents and their little baby girl who they named Grace.

But my weakness would not be chased away so easily.

Though I don’t remember much of the early years, I recall father once telling me that I had broken two fingers, and cracked my head open before I could even walk. Doctors who came to the house claimed my bones simply weren’t strong enough yet; that I needed more calcium which my mothers milk couldn’t seem to provide. But by the time I was on my own two feet, tottering about the manor as most young children do, bruises, breaks, and scratches had the staff and my poor parents on edge. It was around this time as well my own heart decided to betray me. It wasn’t normal for such a young child to be fatigued as quickly as I was, nor was it normal for her breathing to sound like the hard start of an automobile.

Up until the age of six, when I begin to remember some (if only a little) of my childhood, no one - no local physician nor expert - could figure out what was wrong with me. Everything, yet nothing, was the matter. Mother - who was a journalist for National Geographic - traveled and was away for long periods during this time. And though I can recall day dreaming of the many fantastic and wondrous locales she must’ve seen, it left my worrying father to…well, worry about me. It seemed falling down the stairs face first at my local day school and not only cracking my head open again, but also breaking two ribs and promptly becoming unconscious, was enough to send him reeling over the edge of hysteria for my well-being.

During my long and tedious recovery from that single incident, I caught a devilish sickness. No one knows where it had come from; another student in my school perhaps, or from a simple passing stranger. But Father claimed he had paid a fortune in phone calls to Africa in order to speak with mother who was (at the time) photographing Elephants. She came straight home of course, only to find her little girl pale and as close to death as one could be.

It’s all a bit hazy, as my brain was still young; feverish and half-delusional. But I can remember the lingering smell of tobacco on fathers hands and ground into his silk lapels as he cradled me, rubbing my back as I coughed and struggled to catch a breath. And I can still hear mother’s voice as she sat by the bedside, telling me of the many animals she had seen while in Africa. I dreamed of lions and elephants in those hours, blearily staring at nothing as lamplight flickered across damp windowpanes from an evening rainfall. I recovered slowly but surely, but that first flu had taken something out of me. Something I wasn’t ever able to get back, even as I grew older.

I was just about to turn seven, finally healthy again, when I was no longer permitted to leave the grounds. Mother and Father had a very long, loud conversation about it in the library, to which I listened in through the mahogany door. There was to be no more school; just private tutors who I would soon come to spite. No more Summer games in the park, or long nights under strings of electric lights at the carnival. No possibility of family trips, or late night escapades to the Ice Cream parlor for frozen cherries and whipped cream. There was to be no world for me beyond the fence of the Estate.

To keep me safe, Father claimed.

It was only a day after that the wheelchair made its first appearance in my life. Father insisted it would help with my heart; protect it from beating to fast from running, or walking about to quickly. Mother disagreed with the notion, I could see it on her face as I was settled into the wicker seat for the first time, but she said nothing. I hated it instantly. I wanted to run and play, and roll about in the grass like the kids at my school could. I used to envy their ability to get high, high up into the branches above the schoolyard, perched at the top with the world at their feet. I never dared try for myself, lest Father decide to cut all the trees down if he ever saw me in one.

It wasn’t bad at first; Mother stayed with me those beginning months, occupying my mind with stories of her travels and long games of chess. She began me in piano lessons, and helped with my cursive. But it wasn’t long before she once again had to leave; India this time, to photograph wild tigers. The day she left it felt like some huge part of me went with her. Father tried his best of course, and I remember riding on his shoulders or in his arms with fondness. But he was a busy man, often called away to the city for one thing or another.

The staff of course did their best, but babysitting a squirmy young girl certainly wasn’t in their daily agenda. My nursemaid - the same woman who birthed me (nasty old crone) - was a harsh matron who allowed for little beyond what was deemed safe and allowable by my Father. It was always lessons in the morning; the usual subjects of maths, geography, history, natural sciences and the like. This clockwork schedule was followed by etiquette and tea time, piano lessons, art, literature and penmanship.

I did get some exercise, but I was always well watched by Matron and at least two other members of staff. Some days it was a casual swim, no longer then half an hour, and on Saturday it was a light waltzing lesson (privately taught of course). And - on the rare occasion I could bully the other staff into it - a game of croquet or darts on the lawn. But there was little time for fun, despite my Fathers pleasure at my supposed ‘safety’, and I each day I felt some small part of me die.

I was 13 when the next incident occurred. Some local boys who I’d never seen before wandered close to our garden fence. Matron had left me to my afternoon reading as to fetch coffee (which I had come to prefer over tea). Mother - according to her letters - was someplace in China, hunting down Rhinoceros. Father had left earlier that morning to meet with investors at his office in the city. It was a rare moment I was truly alone. The boy, who’s name I can’t recall now, smiled at me. It was a cute, boyish grin and I can still remember how startled I was by it. After all I hadn’t seen anyone in what felt like years (at least six, to be exact). He urged me close to the fence.

At that point I was desperate to be out of my wheelchair, so I walked to him. He nodded to the lovely apple tree which I had been sitting under, and asked if I could climb it to fetch him one of the fruit. Of course I said no, as climbing was strictly prohibited, but he was quite a smooth talker for a boy so young. He called me pretty, and dove, and all the sweet things one calls a girl to make her waver in her convictions. And so - stupidly, might I say - I climbed the tree against my better judgement.

Three shiny red apples were tossed easily over the fence, one for each boy. They gave me a wave goodbye and ran off to do whatever they pleased. And then there was me, a fragile, tiny girl stuck up in a tree with no way down. Of course I didn’t mind at first, I was actually elated I had made the climb at all. I finally was able to see what my schoolmates had all those years ago. I could view the entire estate and beyond; I could stare at the horizon; seemingly endless in its reach. But as much as I yearned to stay above and away from my tiny world forever, Matron would soon return.

Getting out of the tree was much more complicated then climbing into it.

I remember the horrible feeling of miscalculation; falling and hitting the soft earth with a terrible grunt. Something inside me cracked, and my lungs exploded with fire as I wheezed out a cry of pain. I don’t remember now who had seen me first; one of the yard staff perhaps, but Matron was furious. Once again I was bedridden, pretending to sleep as Father puffed on his favorite ivory pipe just outside my bedroom door. He mentioned to Matron the idea of adding straps to the wheelchair, as to keep me from falling. I remember whimpering under the blankets at the thought of being tied to the thing, and sobbing myself to sleep that night.

The years came and went, and I felt more and more heavy with each passing hour. I didn’t leave the wheelchair again until I was 16, and simply couldn’t stand the bloody thing anymore. I would sit in chairs, or on window sills. I’d spend time in the woven hammock in the garden, or lounge across the evening sofas. Any place I could sit, I would, simply to avoid being stuck in the contraption I loathed. I got sick more often during these middle years; on again off again fevers and dizzy spells that left me dazed and began the chain of worrying my father and caretakers all over again.

There were endless nights alone where I’d stare at my naked form in the mirror in golden lamplight, using a finger to count the ribs poking from under my paper-like skin. It’s true my body was changing into that of a woman, but it hardly mattered when the lightest of touches could leave a mark on me the size of a continent.

Mother was traveling again, to and from as she always seemed to do. Letters and phone calls were exchanged often, and I often studied the places she traveled when she was away in my geography lessons. But it often felt like it was just Father and I against the world. He was dear of course, moving his work to the home office as illness became more common. He’d bring me gifts from the city; strings of diamonds and beautiful mink furs. A brand new motorcar, just for my use (not like I could ever go anywhere). But there really wasn’t much that could bring a smile to my face.

Burning the wheelchair and the Matron in a fire the size of Connecticut might have done it. But I didn’t have the heart to ask.

Father even hosted a large ball for my Birthday that year, with dancing and music and people. But even that couldn’t seem to bring my heart from its dark and lonely place. Only when Father allowed the wheelchair to be folded up and hidden away in the closet after almost ten years did I finally feel whole again. I was more careful after that; I did little to aggravate my condition. The fevers and fainting spells were still present, but the bruises and breaks healed. I took a fondness for the writings of Edgar Allen Poe, and Lewis Carroll’s Alice. I read the articles in National Geographic which Mother had sent in her letters over the years, and sketched the animals which she herself had photographed. For a while, everything finally seemed ok.

Until Mother returned home from her second trip to Africa deeply ill.

For the first time in my life, I finally felt what father must have for me every time I lay bedridden. I was only allowed to see her from the doorway, out of fear of me catching the disease as well. I wasn’t allowed to speak with anyone who entered or left the room, and Father had to bathe and keep his distance whenever he came to see me. I was 18 when she finally died in the night. This year. Though it feels like just yesterday.

Yellow Fever they said, from a mosquito bite in Africa.

Nothing - not the breaks, bruises, fevers or constant illness - prepared me to see my own mother dead. I wasn’t even allowed to see her; to say goodbye. I could only watch, held back by three of the staff, as she was carried out under a sheet. The Doctor had to sedate me for my own health after I managed to break loose and nearly fell down the stairs after her corpse. I woke up numb, and couldn’t convince myself to move for days after that. I knew I should’ve been grieving with father, but I couldn’t manage it. There was so much pain. The wheelchair came out of the closet again, but I couldn’t find it in me to care.

The funeral was attended, and the casket buried. Father and I didn’t speak much in those long weeks after; in fact I wondered if I even could. It felt like I hadn’t spoken in years. There was just a horrible, overwhelming chill in me, and I grew weaker with grief. After a few months, Father became worried for me, as did the house staff. They opened the windows, and trimmed the gardens. The rooms were dusted, and filled with light. I was taken outside the fence for the first time since I was a girl, in the automobile which I hadn’t ever used. But there was still only emptiness.

After four months, Father left the house to attend a meeting in the city. He returned with a man whom I didn’t recognize; a fancy man who bowed and kissed my hand and smiled from under his white mustache. He said his specialty was in dealing with those lost in grieving, and that perhaps it would be best if we (my father and I) left New York and all it’s memories behind. Naturally I was appalled at the idea, but couldn’t seem to match my face to my feelings.

Before I knew it the house was emptied out, packed into boxes and taken away by trucks and wagons. Anything not moved was sold at auction, and the house was passed on to the highest bidder.

“New Orleans, my little Bluebird,” Father told me as we settled in for the long journey by car across the country, leaving New York behind, “truly a city of culture. I’ve bought us a beautiful new home just outside town; you’ll love how big it is.”

And big it was. The old Hatchaway Estate was an ivory mansion in a traditional New England style. Surrounded by the most beautiful trees and well kept fields, it was a far cry from the fenced in world back home. The staff, pre-hired, were a gloomy looking bunch dressed in green and black stripes. But father liked their quiet (somewhat somber) fortitude, and so I said nothing as they helped us settle in. There was something…unusual about the new house. I could feel it the minute I walked through the door. A heaviness; like someone was watching me. It was just enough unease for me to forget my quiet grief for a moment.

I learned quickly that the house itself was seemingly unnerved. The first week I had seen at least two items move on their own, and heard giddy singing from the back garden only to find no one there. The staff was practically ghostly, saying very little to us, let alone one another. And I spent a lot of time exploring the grounds on my own. It was a few weeks after moving in, about a month before my 19th Birthday, that father hired two new drivers; a Mr. Harrod Fairchild, and Mr. Rudolph Martin to tend to the cars.

And this, my friends, is where I find myself now. Writing this overview of where I’ve been so far, and now disclosing with utmost discretion my newfound interest in the man father has hired in my name. Mr. Martin is…how to describe him is a puzzle. Handsome? Certainly. Charming? Quite so. I find myself endeared to his presence despite myself, and I grow weary of this…this little tickle of something other then emptiness that has suddenly flared up inside me. Have I once again caught ill? How to explain to father (or anyone really) this fever in me whenever he’s nearby. I’ve barely spoken to him, but have watched him tend to the car and grounds from the windows. I know he’s gentle, but still quite strong. I can sometimes hear him singing down there, leaning against the porch as he plays the banjo for the staff keeping the porch.

Every time I do get close, or think about approaching him myself, I feel that fever begin to rise and I wonder if something is truly very wrong with me. It feels like I’m dying, and I can hardly stand it. I’m bewitched. Perhaps it’s this terrible heat? What’s wrong with me?

I wish mother were here, she’d know what to do.

Eternally yours, dear reader

Grace

[faline-cat444]

Super Giles*:Chapter One-The Wise Decision

*Also known through titles such as Super-Brikke and De Geheimzinnige Benzinepomp

Some of you out there might have seen videos and posts about a book intended for kids of the vaguely recalled plot which is a boy becoming a gas pump.While I did not experience this particular story during my days in elementary school there was something about it that stuck out to me and through observing the other souls hunting for it I did learn a few French copies were still in the wild and managed to acquire one(Technically the title in their language was Super-Gilles).

Considering this book is mainly intended to be read by those around 9-11 years in age/fourth graders it’s a bit more of an effort than some of the other things I’ve tried English-Ing up.Maybe there is still a chance an actual English copy will surface and we will see how similar/different the wording I went with is or while I’m messing with this someone has their hands on one of the copies in another language it’s been recognized to exist in.

As it tends to go for language in general whether it’s two different regions that both know English whether that’s two regions in the United States or pitting the US against Canada,the UK,and/or Australia there’s a bit of your typical language barrier I had to get self-taught and try to figure out an equivalent to.Most obvious being the name of the main character as I’m not sure how you get “Giles” from “Brikke”(Might need to ask a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan if they have the foggiest idea).As of this first chapter the most “major” example of this was the term of “cloche” which can translate into “bell” but specifically in French can mean a silly or clumsy person.I substituted this for “dolt”.Also keep in mind this book was apparently published in...

*punches in the Roman numerals on the publication information page*

1987

This might only be the first chapter so I have no idea what we’re fully in for but judging by the outcome so far...Some book you decided to remember existed,you kooks.

That morning,long before the alarm clock rang.Giles knew it was the big day. He knew what he wanted.

“This is nothing extraordinary,” he mumbled.”A ten-year-old boy knows exactly what he wants.This is no exception…”

For months,he had thought about it.He had his doubts and worries until this moment when his decision became unshakable.It had not been easy.It might be dangerous.But he knew he was going to do it.Today would be the day.

It was therefore impossible for him to stay in bed any longer.

Besides,this morning his room seemed totally different,as if he had nothing more to do there.He ran a finger along the books he had certainly read once,along the many toys he had been tired of for a long time.And he saw nothing he would miss.

In the next room he heard his father.Slowly he opened the door and approached the big bed.His father was laying on his back snoring peacefully,his mouth partly open.His mother put a pillow over her head and therefore was temporarily invisible.

Hesitant,Giles stayed near the big bed.Should he tell them what he was planning to do?But what if they didn’t understand?They might laugh at him.Or worse,they would lock him in his room.Then all would be at a loss!No,better not say anything.Let them find out on their own.If his plan was successful,they could be proud of their son.Giles even started to blush with pride.Silently,he left the room.

At school,the hours passed even slower than usual.It was a pure waste of time.Sometimes,the teacher’s voice became so vague Giles would zone out and begin to daydream,thinking about later,when he would…

“…Isn’t it so,Giles!” The teacher’s booming voice brought Giles back to earth.What was this man with his tiresome numbers talking about again?And what was with all the idiots chuckling around him?

Saved by the bell.Giles gathered his books and hurried…

“Hey,Giles,you come to play soccer?” Giles acted as if he heard nothing.”Hey,dolt,I’m talking to you.” A long and flabby boy insisted.

“Leave him be,” his friend interrupted,”he never want to play with us!”

“His mother forbids him,”another mocked.And then the whole group chanted maddeningly “Dimwit,dimwit!” and “Giles is a little mama’s boy!”

Without a glance,Giles followed his path,like someone who knew where he was going,straight to the point.This feeling of excitement took hold of him again and Giles accelerated his pace.Straight ahead,at the corner on the right to the traffic light and then…

His heart beating wildly,Giles stopped in front of a shiny gas pump,lacquered in red and yellow.Up above hung a gigantic panel with large square letters.Aloud and with a certain respect,he read the inscription,as he did every day he came here:SELF-SERVICE.

For a few months ago,Giles had discovered that Self-Service was a very special gas pump.Not at all like the silly pumps you find at gas stations.Those wait patiently for the pump attendant to come out of their glass cage to make them work.Self-Service did not need anyone.The glass cage behind it with its dirty and misty windows was empty and closed.It was completely unnecessary.Self-Service existed by itself.It stood along the road like an I and looked dignified.It even had a slight air of defiance,which Giles was a bit jealous of.The brutal honk of a car’s horn knocked him out of his state of admiration,he stepped aside to allow a large black car to approach the pump.The driver got out,took a few dollars out of his wallet and slipped them into the vending machine on the pump.

“Self-Service must be very rich.” Giles thought.

The man unscrewed the gas tank cap,took the pistol from the pump and placed it in the tank.

Self-Service immediately began rumbling.The pump began to live!Inside you could hear a continuous dull snoring,counters began to run,a lamp flashed,and one could hear a very distinct DING-DING-DING.At the same time it spat out a continue stream of gasoline,until it had enough.The driver looked disappointed at the last drops and returned the pistol to its place.For Self-Service,the business was settled,motionless and straight as a candle,waiting for the next customer.

The pump didn’t give gasoline to just anyone.A couple times Giles would see drivers in too much of a hurry did not receive a drop,even if they inserted several dollars.The insults,prayers,and beatings were useless,Self-Service remained intractable.When the black car was gone, Giles approached the pump.He stroked it with his hand and placed his ear against its stomach.Very deeply he felt his heart beating.

“I will become like you,” he whispered.A slight rumble ran through Self-Service.And instead of going home like previous days,Giles roamed the city in all directions,until he arrived on a beloved main road he didn’t know.He followed this road for several miles until he was exhausted.One last time,he looked around cautiously and with a broad movement he threw his bag into the bushes.He took a few more steps and finally stood where he felt he should be,right near a busy road.He stood there,straight as a candle,immobile,feet against each other,head upright,with a sincere yet slightly vexing gaze in his eyes.

Because since this morning,Giles knew exactly what he wanted to be…A gas pump. Slowly, he brought his right hand to his head and thrust two fingers into his ear.

[writingoneshots]

Lucci x reader story! he's fighting the urge to fall for reader but fails miserably

Lucci’s cookies

It's been a long time since I managed to write an OS and I am glad to be back again. Thank you for all the requests during my absence.

I hope you're all doing alright! Ps: I did not go missing because of Corona - I suddenly got some sort of a skin disease, which I am trying to get rid of since a few weeks and it's really strenuous to work or even live with it and the meds knock me out pretty good too. I cannot promise to update this blog on a more regular basis but I will do my best :)

Ps: if there is anyhting you guys want me to write, feel free to request it. I got really excited to see some MM and Avenger requests! 

- 1.735 words - cuteness, nothing too romantic or smutty, just a little story of our CP0 boy meeting a woman (you! hihi)

Lucci was on his way to the CP0's new boss. The whole crew has never seen this man before but they knew that he was not someone to make angry. Even though Lucci didn't really care about him or being on time, he didn't want to have any problems with the new guy from the very beginning, so he tried to arrive at the meeting place before the new boss did.

On his way to the meeting point, Lucci spotted a new bakery opening in one of the side streets. A few people came out with freshly baked bread and apparently some baked sweets. He could smell some vanilla aroma and a warm scent of herbs as well. Deciding to have a quick look, he went to the window of the little shop and peeked inside. An older woman exchanged her money with some fresh baked bread and looked happy about an offer to taste some marmalade cookies. Lucci's favorite. Being too focused on the cookie, he needed a few seconds to realize that you were waving at him. When you managed to get his attention, you smiled happily and motioned for him to come inside. He hesitated first but chose to just have a look and maybe try one of these cookies. Thousands of different scents suddenly hit his sensitive nose but Lucci was already used to it. What he wasn't used to was the smell of lavender in the room. When he looked up to you, offering him some of those marmalade cookies, he forgot about himself for a quick second. Your (H/C)-colored hair was tied up in a sleek ponytail and your shiny (E/C) eyes looked at him with excitement first but it quickly changed to worry. "Are you alright? Don't you like strawberry marmalade? I also have chocolate cookies or ones, with coconut cream?", you pointed to a fresh batch behind you and smiled a bit at him. Lucci shook his head softly and took one of the marmalade ones, tasting it right away. Even though he tried his best to stay calm and not show whether or not he liked it, Lucci couldn't hold back his excitement for this treasure he just ate. "It tastes wonderful..", he looked up to you, and there it was again. Your scent. Lavender and the calming scent of an ocean. It hypnotized him. Trying to get out of this trance, he shook his head and cleared his throat. "I am sorry.", he turned around and went to the door, "I am in a hurry. Thank you for the cookie." Without another look back, he left the shop and didn't realize that there were people already waiting outside. He has seen their faces many times, knowing that they feared him, which is probably why they decided to wait outside instead of being in a shop with him.

Not too much later, he caught himself thinking about that cookie, then the scent of the cookie, the scent of you and then..you. He shook his head as if this would get rid of his thoughts and looked up to his new boss, who watched Lucci with a raised eyebrow. "Am I boring you, Rob Lucci?", he approached the man slowly and stopped when he stood right in front of Lucci, who shook his head slowly again. "No, I was listening." The boss giggled slowly and sighed, "I wish I had your brain.. must be pretty relaxing." After stepping back again, he continued to explain their plan to enter a pirate base on an island nearby. But before they left, he needed to taste the other cookies too. No! He shouldn't go there again. You could be there and this would deflect him even more. Your scent was triggering some nerves inside of him and he didn't like that.

When the boss ended their meeting, he looked at Lucci and gave him a warning sight, "Don't you dare to decide to do anything on your own. You all need to work as a team or this plan won't work out. Do you understand me?" Lucci had to admit, that it made him mad to hear this man talk to him like that. He was way stronger than his new boss but he wasn't interested in a fight as he just wanted the boss to shut up and leave him be. "I do. Can I leave now?" The boss sighed annoyed and nodded, "You better leave right away before I completely lose my cool." Even though he was really close to just laugh at that comment, Lucci kept his mouth shut again and just turned around to leave. Walking in a normal pace away, Lucci could still feel his glare like daggers in his back. On his way back to his room, he decided to visit the little shop again and realized that a few men seemed to cause some trouble. "I wanted to taste one of these cookies now and not tomorrow!", he growled at her and pushed a container, which was made of glass, down the counter. Lucci could have caught it easily but he couldn't care less about a container, which wasn't his. Instead of wasting his time on an item, he just entered the shop and stood right behind those three men. One of them felt someone's presence and turned around to curse them out of the building but froze when he saw Lucci. The man quickly tapped onto the second man's shoulder and went a few steps back. Lucci looked at the second man, who went as many steps back as he could before pressing himself against the wall. Now there was only one more left. He looked at the man, standing right in front of him, still demanding some of your cookies, not paying attention to his surroundings at all. Weakling.

Lucci went a few steps forward and almost hovered over him with their height difference. You looked up to Lucci, a little bit nervous and scared because you already have your first drama on the very first day in the bakery shop. The man realized how quiet it had become and turned around, quickly before freezing completely. Tilting his head a little, Lucci eyed the man from his toes up to his face and narrowed his eyes, "Are you bothering that lady?" The man shook his head really fast and still couldn't say a word. "Did you break this glass?", Lucci asked him and put his hands casually into his trousers' pockets. The man nodded and swallowed his own saliva a bit too strenuous. "You know, what you have to do.", Lucci looked at him and straightened his head again, looking at the man full of disgust. He just nodded fast again and took out all his money, putting it on the counter before walking out fast.

You looked after the three men and were glad Lucci didn't hurt them or that the shop didn't get any more damage than just the glass container. "T-thank you... You can have the money. I don't need it.", you looked at him and sighed relieved. Lucci just shook his head and looked around. Wiping a few pieces of glass out of his way, he looked up to you, "So.. you really don't have any more cookies left?" With a slow but soft headshake, you looked at him sadly. "I am sorry... I don't. But I will prepare a box filled with different kinds of cookies for you, which you can have tomorrow, if you'd like?" Thinking about it, Lucci nodded and just turned around to leave, "I will pick it up tomorrow evening after I come back from a mission. Have it ready by then." "Wait! What's your name?" "Lucci.", he said and left again. - Lucci was too exhausted. Not only did this mission last longer than expected but he also wasn't allowed to hunt down the enemy as he usually would. This time it was all about patience and waiting for the enemy to get caught in a trap. When he figured that their enemy was too dumb to exist, he gave up the urge to beat him up on the way to his new boss. When he finished all the explanations and ignoring his boss's annoying comments, he decided to visit your little bakery shop. Hoping that it wasn't closed yet, Lucci almost sprinted to the side street and realized that he was too late. Before he could turn around to leave, the door of the bakery opened and you peeked out of the barely opened door, "You're here! I prepared your box!" Lucci couldn't help but smile and just went into the little shop, closing the door behind him. Looking around to see where you went, he enjoyed the silent moment of him being surrounded by your amazingly calming scent. Lucci closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, calming down as soon as he inhaled the warm breeze.

When you tapped on his shoulder, Lucci just turned his head to you and frowned at the sight of two boxes, "I just need one." "Oh.. the other one is just a basic meal with some bread.. I didn't have time to cook more but I hope you like it.", you smiled a bit nervous at him. After Lucci gave her a questioning look, you explained to him that it was not healthy to only eat cookies on an empty stomach and that a strong man needs a real meal. Lucci nodded at that and as he took the two boxes, he froze when you leaned over to kiss his cheek once softly. "Thank you.. for.. helping me yesterday..", you gave him a nervous smile, while your cheeks got a slight tint of red color. Lucci looked down at you and couldn't help himself but to think you're really adorable. Even though he wasn't the type of man to be interested in any romantic or cute things, he appreciated the effort. "Thank you, ..?" "(Y/N)", you told him your name with a weird amount of confidence. He nodded and raised an eyebrow when you smiled happily at him again. "I will return these boxes tomorrow.", Lucci announced and went back to the door again.

This was the first of many nights, in which he promised to bring the boxes back, always hoping to receive more of those kisses of yours.

[selfships-in-spanish]

–A fleeting encounter

I’m posting the Vampire!Hank ask as a new post because for the love of everything, Tumblr doesn’t let me take out the read more out of the ask’s header. It’s glued to the ask bubble and there’s no way to get it out... Ugh, this hellish site.

Here’s the original ask:

Your AU’s keep me alive ❤️ however, the Vampire AU is currently my new drug. Vampire Hank is such a weakness! I love imagining Ona meeting Vampire!Hank for the first time and she’s both seduced but also cautious of him 👀 imagining Hank giving a deep menacing chuckle at how this little human amuses him 🥴

BUT AHHHH THANK YOU ANON!!! I’m sorry for having so many AUs but I just enjoy all the ideas you guys come up with, and I absolutely love creating content for them!! Vampire!AU is something I want to delve more into, because it’s dark, it’s dangerous and we all love our damn vampires, don’t we all.

I’ll get over my phobia of blood for you guys, I got you all (seriously, I see blood and/or needles I go down to the floor. And I’m diabetic. FUN! )

But… Au within an Au? Ona is still a cop? Hank & the boys are a vamp family and Mr.Anderson is out having a nice hunt evening? 

AUception it is. 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

She’s tiny. 

That’s not hard to be when he’s a giant mass compared to anyone, strong and robust, but the difference is still funny. 

She has a lovely voice and he wonders if her blood will taste sweet too. 

Hank observes the situation in a table near his barstool: her tight smile and bored eyes, her way of picking the food on her plate and how the almost empty wine glass was more interesting than the conversation and man in front of her. The man probably thought he was doing a fantastic job and would get laid tonight, but the girl’s face told another story. 

What a pity that courting and wooing was out of fashion; it was always nice to be and feel appreciated. 

The girl looked around the restaurant, not being able to bear another look at the guy. They crossed looks, and from Hank’s magnetic gaze, she was unable to look away. Hank smirked, pleased he had her attention now. He made sure to look intently at her as he took a sip of his drink, appealing to her curiosity. He winked. 

Hank’s smirk widened when her cheeks reddened, quickly looking away and getting herself busy with her own drink, looking everywhere but him. 

The pretty human tried to keep on with the conversation, tried to concentrate on the man in front of her rather than the mysterious silver fox, and it amused Hank to no end. He was a patient man, and he knew he would taste her eventually. It made the wait worthwhile. 

Her date stood up, excusing himself to go to the bathroom. The girl nodded and sighed once the man was out of sight and hearing range. The waiter came immediately after she finished her glass of wine, leaving another one and a small folded note. She frowned. 

“From the gentleman over there.”

The girl looked over where the waiter pointed, eyes widening when she saw who this gentleman was. Hank chuckled to himself, raising his own glass in acknowledgement and waiting for her to reciprocate the far away toast. She did, holding his intense gaze the entire time with a slight blush on her cheeks.

Now that he had her attention, it was only a matter of time and patience. 

Hank was a patient man.

She looked away, shyly, when she put down her own glass, wiping her mouth delicately with her napkin. When she glanced over the mysterious gentleman again, he pointed to her table, that smirk still painted over his lips. Ona looked down, noticing for the first time the folded note that the waiter delivered with her glass of wine. Ona opened it, finding a handwritten note in a beautiful cursive hand. 

“It looks like you need to break free from that cage, little bird. In case you want a more refreshing conversation, I’m having a smoke outside. H.”

There was also a number at the bottom of it. Huh. Silver fox was going strong. 

Ona’s date was back and she hastily hid the note in her purse. The man grinned at her and she smiled back, trying so hard to keep up the façade. She felt bad for even considering going outside when she already was with someone, but the guy clearly was after a very certain and particular thing she was not going to give him, and this was becoming a huge, disastrous mess. 

“Sorry sweet cheeks, Mother Nature called. Anyways, as I was saying…”

Ona tuned out, fearing her brain would rot if she listened to the guy mansplaining once again how to do her job. Going out for a dinner date with a fellow detective, even if he was from another precinct, had been another terrible idea. Why on earth did she say yes? Oh yes, Tina. Tina bet her, and Ona never stepped down from a bet in a display of a true stubborn spaniard as she was. It was practically in her veins. 

Mr.I’m-the best-at-my-job kept going on, not even leaving her room to say her own thoughts about the matter. He kept drilling on, laughing at his own jokes while Ona merely smiled to keep the appearances. Gods, what a self-centred asshole. An involuntary sigh escaped her lips. Mr. My-teeth-are-whiter-than-snow frowned, shutting up. 

“Sorry, am I boring you?” He didn’t sound sorry at all, more annoyed than anything.

“No, sorry. Just a little dizzy.”

“Huh. Well, like I was saying—“

“Actually, do you mind if I go outside for a minute? Some fresh air may help.”

Before Detective Asshole could say anything else, Ona stood up, grabbing her jacket from the chair and walking to the front door of the restaurant. 

Nightly cold air greeted her, making her  sigh pleasantly this time. She was actually starting to feel a throbbing inside her head. If that guy called her sweet cheeks again or said “as I was saying”, Ona would make him choke on his food, make that juicy olive in his cocktail get stuck in his throat and make it look like an accident. Ona let a smile grace her lips, enjoying the scene in her head. 

“I thought you would never come.”

“OH JESUS FUCKING CHRIST—“ Ona jumped, startled when a deep, purring voice spoke next to her. Her heart was threatening to beat out of her chest. She placed a hand over it, trying to will her heart  to a more even pace. The voice chuckled. 

“Such blasphemous curses.”

“If you are a believer.” Ona looked at the owner of the voice, brows rising when she saw the mysterious silver fox. 

True to his word, he was outside with a lit cigarette between his lips. Now that she was closer, Ona could see how full the beard was, but also well kept. The man smelled of expensive cologne, and judging by his clothes, he did have the money. Neat and clean haircut, spotless coat, leather gloves and blue eyes twinkling with amusement, although Ona could see a glint of something behind it. It made her uneasy but also curious. 

“Out of the cage, then, little bird?” 

“I needed fresh air indeed,” Ona crossed her arms. “But didn’t you promise a refreshing conversation?” Curiosity won. 

The gentleman looked inside the restaurant where her date was. 

“That bad?” He said, nodding in her date’s direction and brows raised. 

“That bad.” Ona let herself snort. 

The man stepped closer, holding his hand out. 

“I’m Hank.”

Ona took it, squeezing it with enough force to let the man know she was not easily swayed. She wasn’t a Detective for nothing. She also had a mean punch. Hank looked pleased at her grip.

“Ona.” Hank’s hands were big. He was big. And she noticed right that instant how tiny she was compared to him.

“Nice to meet you, Ona.” She tried not to squeak like a tiny mouse. 

“So, what brought you to the enlightening company of Mr. Boring Date over there?” His voice was like velvet and Ona felt it brush her ears like a soft caress. 

“A bet.” 

“A bet?” Hank’s amused chuckle made her pout. “I hope you win it, then. Considering…” Hank nodded towards her date’s direction.

“Yeah, gonna get some cash. And favours.” Ona joined his chuckle in the end, thinking about Tina’s smug face when Gavin discovers that no, Mr.Suit-&-Tie didn’t manage to get inside Ona’s pants. She could already see her new shiny toaster on her kitchen’s counter. “So, what’s a man like you doing in a place like this, all alone?”

“I’m not alone right now, am I?” Hank winked. Ona raised her brow.

“Is this how you pick up potential dates?” 

“Are you considering yourself a potential date, then? I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.”

“Wha–wait no, wait!” Ona could feel her cheeks getting hotter. She was a grown up woman and would absolutely not blush. No sir. “I didn’t say anything about a being a potential date!”

“You asked me if this is how I pick up potential dates.” Hank’s amused voice wasn’t helping her at all. 

“I’m not– ugh! Don’t turn my words against me!” 

“I’m so sorry, darling, you just made it so easy and I really couldn’t resist.” He stepped closer. He took out a pack of cigarettes, offering one to Ona. She shook her head.

“No, thank you. I don’t smoke.”

“Smart lady. Don’t fall into that. And it comes from someone who smokes like a chimney.”

“Then you should quit smoking. A man your age…” Ona teased him with a smirk of her own. 

Hank snorted. If she really knew his age… but that’s a secret for later. He was only here to scout, to see what both Connor and Richard meant by a very strong-willed and capable Police Detective catching their attention, but if he got a taste… he wouldn’t complain one bit. Connor and Richard once got a whiff of her blood when their paths crossed in one of her police investigations, getting hurt while having to run after a suspect. Needless to say she did apprehend the suspect despite the cut on her leg. The fire in her eyes drew them in. 

But, that didn’t mean he couldn’t play a little with this cute, tiny human. Hank was not stupid, she was pretty, and that’s something he absolutely read in Connor and Richard’s faces and attitude. When they found someone pretty and capable, they put their entire attention on them. She was a lucky lady. 

“I’m going to make a proposition to you, Ona.” Hank blew the smoke upwards, mindful of not letting it hit her. Ona was silently grateful for that.

“An indecent one?” Ona chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head slightly to the side, curious.

“Ah, only if you want it to be, darling.” Hank purred out the pet name. Ona didn’t know she could blush even more. 

“I-I—“

“You make teasing you so easy,” Hank stepped even closer, just tiptoeing on Ona’s personal space. She could smell the expensive cologne, but could feel no warmth radiating off him. Strange. “But that wasn’t what I was going to proposition to you. What about you give me one night?” One night with me, and then you can judge if I am that old.”

Ona felt her heart beat faster. Her mouth felt dry all of the sudden. 

“Well?”

“I barely know you.” But she felt curious. And daring. 

Hank raised his eyebrows, chuckling. She was a stubborn one. Connor will have fun with her. 

“Well, what a better chance to know each other than to have a nice dinner together and drinks after?”

Hank made sense, in a way. He was the one interested in meeting her, but she wouldn’t admit out loud she wanted to know more about this mysterious man. Puzzles such as this were a thrill for her, she didn’t become a detective for the paperwork, but for the adrenaline rushing through her veins when faced with a dangerous case, a bloody trail begging to be solved, the satisfaction of seeing behind bars those who thought they could best the law, best her. 

This man was a mystery begging to be solved, too. 

“You know what? Give me your phone.”

Hank’s smile was radiant and just a touch from being predatory, pleased she accepted. He handed his phone to her, watching in satisfaction as she typed her phone number there. 

He couldn’t wait to rub that fact on the younger vampire’s faces. While Richard kept pinning like the romantic dumbass he was, and Connor made excuses to bump into her investigations just to catch a glimpse and a whiff of her scent, Hank managed to get a date. How wonderful their enraged faces are going to be. Thank God he was an older and stronger vampire, more experienced too, or they would have torn him into shreds. 

“I can’t believe I’ve done this, but… there you go. Call me.” Ona handed the phone back, which Hank took with a sparkling smile, showing perfect teeth with a little gap between the front ones that Ona found endearing.  

“Of course I will, darling. Better when your romeo isn’t there wondering why his tricks ain’t working, huh?”

“Oh my god, I forgot about him!” Ona gasped, horrified at herself. Hank barked out a laugh, whole body shaking with it. Ona glanced at the restaurant’s window and then back to Hank. “I-I have to go. Like, right now. Shit.”

Hank took her hand and kissed the back of it. Ona was taken aback from the act and felt her cheeks redden. 

“Go, or I’ll keep you here longer.”

Ona let out an undignified noise while Hank chuckled, taking her hand back and choking out a “bye” as she turned around and got inside again. In her shock she didn’t notice the frozen cold touch of his lips against her skin. 

Hank stomped out the butt of the cigarette, taking out his phone and going through the contact’s list. His eyes twinkled in amusement. 

“Ona 🌊”

Hank walked back to his car, whistling a random tune with a spring in his steps. It was a pretty name, very fitting also. 

Connor and Richard were indeed not pleased that Hank passed his hand over their faces. He dangled the phone in his hand, knowing how the brothers wanted to throw his phone to the fire and stomp on its ashes. 

“Don’t you dare taste her first, Hank.” Connor’s lips were pressed into a tight line. 

“I wouldn’t even think about it, knowing how much you want her.” He did want to taste her blood, but he wasn’t that evil towards the brothers. 

“You will regret it if you do.” Richard’s icy stare would have sent shivers down his spine if he knew he couldn’t fight him and win. 

Hank groaned, tired of the silly possessiveness they felt towards the human. He went to the mini bar and poured himself a drink. 

“I won’t drink her blood, for now, but if you don’t move your goddamn asses, I will be drinking something else.”

Hank felt the poisoned daggers the brothers were stabbing him with their eyes. They were enamored by that tiny human, and couldn’t think straight when her blood was present.

“If you don’t want me to do neither, do something yourselves.”

Connor and Richard stood up, lips curved into a snarl and their fists tight. They disappeared into their own rooms, probably to sulk. Hank sighed, shaking his head.

He had a dinner date to plan. 

[flapple-toxtricity-appletun]

Alola Galar! Alola Love!

Chapter 2

AN: This will focus more on London and her story this chapter! Hope you all enjoy and continue to read!

London held her partner Mimikyu in her arms as she walks out into the stadium. Seeing all those cheering people, it filled her with a sense of excitement she only ever felt in Pokémon battles. She grew up in hidden cabin within the foggy woods that was said to hold a terrifying and strong Pokémon. Her family was the guardians of the woods and was never allowed out of the woods. Her family was like the legend of Medusa, turning people into stone if they look at them...so they were cursed...she grew up alone...the few times other humans came to her woods and saw her...they were hostile...or she’d accidentally turn them to stone...why was she here then? Why was she not terrified of turning others to stone? Because of a boy named Leon...

He had gotten lost...he found her hidden cabin by chance and she was terrified of turning him to stone so she begged him not to look till she was blindfolded. It worked. So he visited every day...guided by the Rookiedees of the woods to her small home. They hung out every day. He even introduced her to Sonia. Eventually they brought her out to Postwick. She met their families. She met Pokémon that weren’t in her woods...and she decided...she wanted to be a trainer...but she had to get over her fear of accidentally hurting people. So little by little, day by day, she became more confident. Till she no longer needed the blindfold.

She met Mimikyu in her woods, it was abandoned and angry at everything. It attacked without mercy and was cruel. She slowly began to build trust with the poor female ghost type. She brought it food, gave it toys to keep it entertained, and eventually she could touch the ghost type without any problems. Mimikyu was abandoned because it accidentally killed its trainer when wind one day made it cloth fly up. The family didn’t want her and they didn’t want to die so they left her in place no one would have to deal with her. London gave her the name “Mimi” as a sign of friendship and as a promise she would never abandon her on purpose.

When Leon, Sonia, and London became trainers they went to wild area and split up. She knew it wouldn’t end well for Leon but Charmander was with him so she didn’t worry too much. She found a Cramont that had a broken wing and couldn’t keep up with her flock. She promised the poor water fowl she would heal it and release it. So she caught it. After her first gym battle the bird’s wing was completely healed so she went back to wild area to release it. But the bird refused to leave. Having bonded with her and the Mimikyu with trust issues (even if the bond wasn’t very strong or good at first). So she was named Saki. As time passed she would be famous for her “fishing” adventures...namely having Pikachus and other eletric types in her throat after using dive...she rarely ever had an actual fish in her throat...Saki always has leftovers hiding her wings somewhere...so Pokémon with sharp noses and/or love to eat she doesn’t get along with very well since they keep trying to take them from her.

Tix and Tox was an interesting story...the daycare worker had eggs she couldn’t take care of and the trainer didn’t want them...so they were fighting...she stepped in and offered to care for them. When they hatched they didn’t act like she was their mother like most Pokémon do when they hatch and see someone...instead they acted like she was their sister...when they evolved and Leon realized his feelings...they were his first barrier...getting approval from them...it wasn’t easy to say the least. They are both shiny and have gigtamax forms. So when the trainer found out and tried getting them back they basically made it clear they wanted nothing to do with the other trainer... Tix (low key) always carries around his lucky black sludge...Tox wears a magnet like a necklace...London worries about these two the most out of everyone on her team...

Teba kept following them. Trying to woo London and the two female Pokémon...Mimi kept harshly rejecting him by attacking him with Play Rough. Saki was....oblivious....but loved the attention none the less. London on the other hand, she just smiled not really accepting or rejecting the romantic leek wielder. Until he evolved and became harder to ignore. Tix and Tox had to stop him and snarled at the fighting bird. London had to explain it wouldn’t work out but Saki was obviously falling hard for him. To this day he is known for his giant romantic gestures though they are more playful to others and more serious to Saki...even if she doesn’t always quite get it at times. Teba wears a black belt...on his head...like a headband...it’s a bit worn and beat up with a few tears but he still takes pride in it.

Escall was in trouble when he met the team. In more ways than one. Escall was being attacked by some people who sell Pokémon and hunt them for sport (like killing them for something they have. Like marowak and cubone). The second problem was that he wasn’t good at making an ice head. London used Mimi to scare away the attackers and they all worked together to make Escall an ice head. They trained and every time the head broke...they would let him practice making one with their help. Escall was hesitent at first to let them close till he saw London help Mimi fix her disguise and went so far as to make a special ribbon for her. It was purple, Mimi’s favorite color and it had a soothe bell in it to help Mimi when she had anxiety attacks. It was a small bell on a giant bow, but it was beautiful to Escall nonetheless. Escall loves to wear his amulet coin necklace and refuses to take it off ever since London gave it to him.

She loves Pier’s music and they support each other in their own ways. She sometimes watched over his sister or Hop. She realized her love of music through the dark type gym leader. Her iPod, phone, computer, and many other devices have so much music it would take a year to get through all of them. (She one time accidentally broke her mp3 just because of the sheer amount of music she had on it.) Her taste in music is extensive that can it can be hard not to find a song you like on devices. She’s a bit clueless with technology so she often looks for someone to help her with things but on the stage or in a music video she has a vision and is determined to achieve this vision. Tix, Tox, and Mimi are the reasons why some producers gave in to some of her requests...they can be so intimidating!

Speaking of her Pokémon...her whole team is apart of her band. Tix and Tox obviously are guitarists. Teba is surprisingly good at drums. Escall is good at sound mixers/dj. Mimi is on the keyboard and is backup vocals since she can mimic so many words. Finally Saki is any additional string instrument they need for a song (it sounds odder than it really is.)

(A/N: WHY ISNT THERE ANY GIFS OF SIRFETCH’D AND EISCUE WHEN I PRESS THE GIF BUTTON?!?! This is...UNACCEPTABLE!!!!)

[where-the-wilds-things-are]

Wild Meets Wild Chapter One

The Sun made the day bright. A set of slitted green eyes that belong to a tom with a beautiful spotted coat took in the sounds and smells of the forest that sang around him like a melody of home. But the focus of his attention was the plump thrush that was pecking at seeds in the grass. Slumping his body low into a hunter’s crouch, Rusty slowly made his way towards it. His ears could pick up its heartbeat and even the air leaving its lungs, telling him it is healthy. Unconsciously, his tail swung back and forth.

Suddenly the bird stopped eating, somehow alerted to his presence. Beating its wings, it took off for safety, and that’s when Rusty made his move. Controlled by something more primal than instinct, he bounded to where the bird stood and, putting all of his strength into his back legs, jumped for the skies.

In the air, the feeling of wind ruffling his fur with the ground far from his paws gave him a feeling that passed beyond elation. Stretching out his forelegs with unsheathed claws; he felt them sink into the bird, causing it to let out a pained chirp. Feeling gravity pull them down, he shoved the thrush in his mouth and landed on his feet. Feathers spun lazily to the ground as his jaws snapped its neck instantly. Placing it on the ground, he relaxed his muscles.

Happy, he was just about to enjoy his prey when a weird humming sound went off near him. Looking around for potential enemies that wanted his kill, he let out a growl. The sound got louder, closer, and more familiar to him. Rusty blinked open his eyes.

The forest had vanished. He was in the air-conditioned living room, curled up on the second level of the comfy and large cat tree. Moonlight peeked through the sheer curtains, casting warped shadows on the table, tiled floor, and stand that held the large, thin T.V. That blasted sound was the round circular object that moved on its own, picking up dirt and fur that littered the ground. He had had the dream for the third time that month, and of course, it got interrupted just as his fangs met flesh.

Sniffing, Rusty could smell the food his owners made that was in his dish, along with his sister, Princess. Before going to their room to bed; the Wintergreens will either give them deliciously ground meat meals, dry food with meat mixed within that had actual flavor, and even pieces of chicken or fish on a good day along with bottled water. Princess had told him that she overheard them say that they had “vitamins” to make them stronger and have shiny coats. Judging by the smell, it’s the ground meat for tonight.

Right next to the large silver fridge were two food dishes and his littermate, who was already enjoying her meal. Meowing a hello to her, he was quick to eat his dinner—while it was no prey that he caught and killed, he knew that they could have been given the dry and tasteless kibble that he knew cats unluckier than him had to eat. He took a glance at her; Princess had a pale tawny spotted coat with one splotch resembling a star on her left shoulder, one that he knew he had in the same place.

His own pelt was more of a red, something the Wintergreens took pride in. The young tom had the feeling that they were being prepared for being a Show Cat and repressed a shudder. While some felines enjoyed it, he saw the pressure that weighed some down like a stone around their necks. Other cats became vain and malicious, strutting around like a peacock and looking down on those who didn’t have good pedigrees and winnings as mutts and mixed breeds. He wanted no part in that mess and wished that he was free in the forest, like in his dreams.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he nearly missed Princess meowing to him.

“Rusty. I need to ask you a very important question about something outside.” Taken aback at the serious tone, he wondered what it was about. Maybe how he nearly got into a fight with that irritable Russian Blue that seemed to exist to aggravate him? It wasn’t his fault that he said that Razoule’s family tree had to resemble a more of a wreath if he really was a purebred. It’s the truth!

Before he can ask if this was the case, Princess went towards the modified cat door that led to the backyard garden. Sighing, he followed her, preparing to defend himself if this was about yesterday. Flowery smells made his nose twitch as he stepped into the warm night air. Feeling the grass, wet from dew and rain, he passed by the stone bench and lavender pots. Seeing her by the rosebush, he plopped himself beside her. It was then she said something that made him reel in shock.

“Lately… I have been having dreams of being in the forest. There’s no collar around my neck and I catch prey, from birds to rabbits and even snakes. Then I bring them back to these faceless cats with no scents, and it’s like I’m home. It felt so real too! The dreams came to me three times this month, please tell me I'm not going insane.”

Rusty looked at her with wide green eyes. “You had those dreams also? I’ve dreamed of catching prey in the forest with no collar around my neck for the past month too. I… I was just nervous that you’ll tease me like you did when I decided to see that movie." Heat bloomed in his ears at that memory; watching that killer demon clown lurk in the sewers alone at night wasn’t his brightest idea.

Princess’s bright blue eyes widened and then looked contemplative. “Well, I don’t know about you, but when I had my second dream, I’ve been considering taking a peek there. Just a quick look really. Maybe it will make them stop?"

Rusty blinked before licking his chest. “I wouldn’t mind really. The Wintergreen hardly let us leave the house unless we are on our leashes for walks or going to the vet for shots. Besides, think of it as an adventure! We might even catch actual prey and not food made for us."

Trotting to the fence, he leaped onto the post with relative ease, with Princess doing the same. Turning his head, he could make out the dense woods that were a couple of gardens down. Making out the woodsy smells carried by the breeze, Rusty felt something stir inside him. A feeling was begging him to journey into it, to be wild and free. Leaping down on the other side, his name tag clicked against the bell on his collar. As Princess followed him, he heard paws climbing the fence, along with a familiar scent.

“Rusty! Princess! Where are you going?” called out a friendly voice.

Looking up, Rusty could see the black and white Turkish Angora tom try to balance himself on the fence.

“Hello Smudge," replied Princess, with him giving out his own greeting.

The tom righted himself before looking down at them. “You two aren’t going to the forest, are you?” With wide amber eyes, he went on. “Those cats that live there are nasty fighters and probably don’t even have their shots up to date. Who knows what diseases they have?”

Shaking his head Smudge looked contemplative. “Though to be honest, I can see you two stroll in there just fine somehow." Jumping down from his spot on the fence, the black and white tom stood with the littermates.

“We are just taking a look, Smudge. Maybe even catch a finch or two.” replied Princess.

“Be careful, Henry says that they don’t like cats from here at all. I think I remember him saying that some jumped up brute calling himself Thistle-something tried to jump him his own garden! And that he—"Smudge looked around and lowered his voice—"sent him screaming back to the forest after he bit off what made him a tom."

Rusty grimaced at his friend’s story. While Henry was never the same after he accidentally ate that weird bug that fell in his food bowl, no one could deny that he was a fighter in his younger years. The old Siberian tabby had the scars to prove it. Hot-headed toms and she-cats learned that he was no easy pickings for a fight even now with his… eccentrics.

Honestly, he can see him do it to some cat that pissed him off on his meaner days.

“Thanks for the warning Smudge, we’ll be on the lookout,” meowed Rusty. Then a thought hit him. “Hey, why don’t you join us? You’re our friend and it can be fun!"

“Rusty is right, you said you always wanted to try a mouse, and aren’t you at least curious about the woods?" Princess replied hopefully.

Smudge looked around nervously before sighing. “Fine, but only because you two are my friends."

“Well, it’s now or never, we’re burning moonlight chattering like birds when we can be exploring," meowed Princess, excitement clear in her eyes as her tail wagged. And with that, she went into the dense group of trees. The smells of earth and animals invaded Rusty’s nose as he followed, making his mouth water. It was just like in his dream, only better since it was real. Birds! Mice! Squirrels!

“Maybe we should slightly split up to cover more ground?” said Rusty, left ear twitching. He could have sworn he heard a heartbeat, but wrote it off as belonging to busy prey animals.

“That’s easy for you to say, you and Princess are big! And by the way, you sound like those guys in horror flicks who get splattered by the villain." softy meowed Smudge, making Rusty scowl.

“You should have seen him after he watched the remake of that killer spider clown movie, he refused to walk near sewer grates for a month!” teased Princess.

Rusty sighed. “Let’s just try to hunt before it’s too late. But sticking close sounds good. If trouble finds you, yowl, and we’ll be right there to fight off anything. Sounds good? Princess and Smudge nodded. “Great, now let’s go."

Princess unsurprisingly went forward while Smudge went to his left. Going right, the young red tom went deep into the brush, carefully avoiding tree roots and thorns along the way.

Ears fully pricked and tasting the air, he could sense that a mouse was close. Focusing his eyes on the spot, he could make it out, stuffing itself with seeds that were on the ground. Getting into the hunter’s crouch, he was just about to prowl forward when he heard faint paw steps crackling on dry leaves. The mouse dropped its seeds to dart away, and Rusty let out a surprised shriek as he barely jumped out of the way as a gray comet shot past where he once was.

The cat landed, turned around and hissed, showing white fangs. Crouching, he darted straight towards Rusty. Thinking quickly, Rusty shot towards the tabby, matching his speed. Just when they were a foot away from each other, he lowered his head and slammed his skull right into the gray tom’s chest, who let out a wheeze. Continuing on, he used his neck muscles to send his assailant crashing into the ground.

“Rusty!”

”Rusty!”

Princess’s and Smudges frantic yells heralded their arrival, with his sister in the front and Smudge on her tail. Both had their claws unsheathed, with Princess looking like she was about to shred a cat at any minute and Smudge’s fur spiked up on his spine.

“What happened? I was trying to catch a squirrel when I heard a shriek!” worriedly meowed his friend.

"Who’s that behind you, Rusty? Did he attack you? I’ll give him a lesson for attacking my brother!”

The said cat of Princess’s ire shook his head as he got up and blinked in surprise before jumping backward. “More kitty pet intruders!” Puffing himself up, he leaped from side to side. “All of you better leave before I sharpen my claws on your bones,” he yowled.

“Oh yeah? Well, all I see are three cats and one bouncing poof ball. And who are you calling kitty pet? You look like you can be the old lady’s lap cat who lives next to us,” replied Princess, ears folded back in aggression.

“Wait, let’s not escalate things, we mean no trouble at all here.  We simply wanted to look around and try our hunting skills,” said Smudge, though he didn’t sheath his claws.

“Prey stealers!” He hissed, “I’ll make you fear the name Graypaw!” Rusty could hear the obvious bravado in his voice.  While he can sense sturdy shoulders underneath this Graypaw’s shaggy fur; he was concerned about his odds taking on three unknown threats alone.

“Smudge is right, we didn’t mean any harm. We’re sorry if we trespassed in some way." The reddish tom knew if there was one cat around, there might be more nearby, and he didn’t want his sister and friend to fight off any cats who believe it’s the Wild Wild West.

Graypaw's fur was still puffy as he looked to Rusty, Princess, and Smudge. “So you didn’t catch anything and don’t want to attack Thunderclan?” When all three shook their heads no, his fur went down, though, like everyone else, his claws remained out.

The hostile air faded as the four calmed down when Princess noticed that he wasn’t injured besides being shocked at the attempted attack.

Sighing, he sat down and licked his chest fur. “I guess those ears of yours aren’t for show since you heard me and dodged my attack. I never thought you would charge at me." Looking at Rusty and Princess, he continued. “I thought I was looking at Leopardfur for a second with that pelt of yours! But I have to say it’s way more pronounced looking, even with you two being kitty pets. Are your names spot related by chance?”

“Umm, no. My name is Rusty. '' Using his tail, he pointed to his sister and friend. "This is Princess—my littermate, and Smudge, our best friend and neighbor”.

Meowing their hellos, Smudge stepped forward. “So Graypaw was it? What did you mean when you said Kitty Pets? Do you mean house cats?”

“I mean all of you by being kitty pets that have two-leg owners. The smell of that place is all over you and those two have collars prove it." Looking at Smudge’s neck, Graypaw cocked his head. “Though I don’t know what is that around your throat, though, it looks weird”.

“Hey, I like my purple bandana!”

Princess looked confused. “Two-legs? You mean Humans?”

“Humans," Graypaw said with a befuddled look as if the word was alien. “Look, if that’s what you call them, then yes. You all have ki... Housecat blood, especially with your friend having that shiny silky coat."

Ignoring Smudge’s loud “Why thank you," he continued to speak.

“But I won’t lie, both of you give off a weird feeling that I can’t place. And don’t take this the wrong way, but you look and sound off too. I have never seen a cat with ears that big or necks that long, and again your fur! I know some cats that would be envious if they saw it."

Rusty about asked what cats was he referring to when he picked up two heartbeats and near-silent paws coming towards them quick.

“Princess! Smudge! We have got to leave now!" Rusty had heard that those old stories Clan cats doing raids on gardens for no reason, what if they gave them justification for “trespassing?”

Graypaw must have noticed because panic came clear in his amber eyes. “Quick—run that way before—"

“What is going on here? Who are these Intruders?" Hissed a firm and menacing voice.

"...We get caught,” was Graypaw’s gloomy response.

The four cats watched as a large majestic gray Russian Blue she-cat, or at least a descendant of one came out of the brush. Her muzzle had streaks of silver, and a jagged scar separated the fur on her shoulders. Gray fur shone like silver in the moonlight, giving her an almost ethereal appearance.

“Bluestar!” Beside Princess, Graypaw crouched down and narrowed his eyes. He crouched even lower when a second cat—a handsome, golden tabby—followed the gray cat into the clearing. Smudge looked torn between following the gray tom’s lead or lowering his head. Princess though made eye contact with both. Belatedly, Rusty realized he was doing the same.

“Why were you so close to the two-leg place Graypaw? You know that we shouldn’t go near it." The tom said.

“I know, Lionheart, I’m sorry.” Graypaw looked down at his paws in shame.

“Who are these cats? Two of them look like the RiverClan Deputy," asked the she-cat.

Rusty held her gaze, though he bowed his head as a sign of respect. Her piercing gaze flashed before she swept it to Smudge and Princess.

“None of them are threats,” mewed Graypaw quickly. “They are not Clan warriors, just Twoleg pets from beyond our territories.”

Just a Twoleg pet! The words inflamed Rusty, but he held his tongue. That’s rich when I sent you flying to the ground. The warning look in Bluestar’s stare told him that she had observed the anger in his eyes, and he looked away to meet Princess so she won’t say anything rude. Judging by her narrowed blue eyes, she was about to go and do just that.

"This is Bluestar; she’s the leader of my Clan!” Graypaw hissed to them under his breath. “And Lionheart. He’s my mentor, which means he’s training me to be a warrior.”

“Thank you for the introduction, Graypaw,” meowed Lionheart coolly.

Bluestar went back to staring at Rusty. “You fight well for a Twoleg pet,” she meowed.

Rusty and Graypaw exchanged confused glances. How could she know about the confrontation?

“We have been watching all of you,” Bluestar went on as if she had read their thoughts. “We wondered how you would deal with an intruder, Graypaw. You attacked him bravely even when he was bigger than you, and even tried to scare off three unknowns.”

Graypaw looked pleased with Bluestar’s praise.

Bluestar then looked at the other two. “You actually had a squirrel in your paws, but let it go to help your friend,” she meowed at Smudge. He blinked in surprise.

She then gazed at Princess. “While you seemed to notice that Lionheart was watching since you kept looking at his direction when you were tracking that vole.”

“Sit up now, all of you!” Bluestar looked at the three house cats, and Rusty held eye contact as she addressed them.

“You reacted to Graypaw’s attack very well, kitty pet. Not only did you hear his approach and dodged, but you also charged head-on with no hesitation. I have heard of kitty pets fighting clan cats, but I never thought I’d see it."

Rusty and the others nodded their thanks, taken aback by such unexpected praise. Her next words stunned them more.

“I have been wondering how you two would perform outside of your garden. We patrol this border frequently, and every so often I saw you two looking at the forest. I even saw your friend do it, but now all of you have gotten the courage to set your paws here.”

Bluestar looked at them thoughtfully. “All of you seem to have natural hunting abilities, and I’m sure that all of you would have caught prey if Graypaw had not found you,” she meowed.

“How old are you three, if I might ask?” replied Bluestar. Graypaw and Lionheart had curious expressions as they waited for an answer.

“Well, me and my brother despite our size are six months old, and Smudge will turn six months this week,” replied Princess.

By the look of the Clan cats were giving her, they didn’t know what a month or week was. “Umm, let’s just say six moons and six nights since we use different words for time passage back at home."

Graypaw’s disbelief was apparent. “Six moons? But you two are already close to being the size of Tigerclaw! And he’s the biggest cat I know!”

Lionheart shook his head. “Bluestar, these are kitty pets. They should not be hunting or even be in ThunderClan territory. Send them home to their Two-legs!” His voice was respectful and insistent, but it was clear that he wanted them gone.

Rusty prickled at Lionheart’s words. “Send us home?” he mewed. He wanted to say that they didn't even catch anything yet, but a voice in his head told him that maybe he should keep that to himself.

That, Bluestar’s words made him glow with pride, and a quick look to his left showed him that Smudge and Princess felt the same.

Bluestar then turned to look at them. The way her eyes glowed, it felt like she was going to drop an anvil of a question. He was right.

“How do all of you feel to join our Clan?”

[crqstalite]

WIP Wednesday

so i ended up being tagged three times today, by @that-wasnt-so-bad for scrap pile + WIP wednesday, as well as @ljandersen for scrap pile as well. unfortunately i end up being one of the most frugal writers you’ll meet, mostly everything i write ends up somewhere in a story, and i’m either powering through chapters worth of writing in hours or have nothing i haven’t published. but, thankfully i did actually have a piece i’ve been procrastinating on for a while (nearly scrapped it, so i think it counts), so here’s what i have.

pre-ME2, post ME1 shore leave. shenko...sort of. word count: 1808.

-

"So...Commander. Is this a temporary station or do you live here full time?"

Kodelyn raises an eyebrow at the question, still stretching out a few muscles in her back. Who knew getting Reaper bits rained down on you would have lasting effects? Two weeks later, she wasn't really supposed to be up and running yet, but Chakwas and the other doctors on the Citadel couldn't keep her down for long. No rigorous activity, they said, exasperated with her after only a few days, you'll pull your stitches and you'll be right back here, commander.

She was lucky they didn't send a nurse to live at her apartment for the next few months. Or however long it would be until they'd lay off and she could get back where she belonged -- on the bridge of the Normandy.

But for now, she was on medical leave. And medical leave meant taking it easy. Which she rarely did, without throwing a literal fit. Which also meant living on the Citadel for the time being because she was still on call, technically. Leave it to Anderson to keep her in the loop without her saying a word. She couldn't ask for better friend.

So here she is, walking through the hospital lobby with Lieutenant Alenko and her duffel over her shoulder, knocking into her hip withe every few steps. Why it hadn't been anyone else to retrieve her, she isn't sure. Possibly because he was the last human on her squad after the investigation into Saren. Possibly he came here on his own volition, as he had for a while after she'd been admitted. But that didn't mean she didn't enjoy this particular company. Still, she's uneasy with her eyes trained on him. Not entirely sure what the night just before they landed on Ilos even really meant, what to think about it. Fraternization was one of the many things she could be tried for, should the Alliance decide to press charges for the fact she stole the Normandy . It'd still meant a lot to her, even if she wasn't sure how to acknowledge it.

He'd asked for it not to change anything. She respects that, of course. But at the same time, maybe she wants things to change. After so long pushing people away, maybe she wanted someone to be by her side as more than a friend. He'd be a welcome one.

Then again she was the single worst person to be keeping secrets with. And the part of her that is the model soldier, the one who could be relied on for her integrity, eats away at her for those thoughts alone.

Would it be so bad to be happy?

So for now, she doesn't think about it, "I have -- had an apartment here. So do my siblings. I think I told you my parents still live on Earth?" A nod from him as the doors part for them out to the open area in front of the hospital's ground floor, "Between all my different postings and everything with the 'Reapers', it's easier to have a home here, be in the hub of everything and not have to commute back and forth every couple of months."

"Right, of course," He answers, turning his attention out to the Presidium and where parts still smolder with debris among the once green nature. His tone softens, "Makes plenty of sense. Uh, where did you live, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Further down in the lower wards of Zakera, actually. They tried to shove me up here with all the uptight brass when I earned the Star of Terra, but I wasn't really interested. Siblings live down there, and with C-Sec stretched thin I couldn't really leave them alone. But now?" She waves her hand out over towards the lower courtyard, "Now they managed to force me up here because of leave, and because somehow they knew that my old place got destroyed. Ease of access for the doctors in case something goes wrong. Better for Alliance to keep eyes on me.  Apparently becoming the first human spectre and saving the Citadel earns you a few perks, lots of suspicion, but perks nonetheless."

He chuckles in a way that makes her feel oddly at ease. More than she had in months, really, "Think I'd call this way more than just a perk, Commander."

She bites her lip to keep from grinning, before it creeps into her expression anyways. It was so easy to end up in a good mood with him around, should've been illegal, "Maybe. I still think a whole 'luxury apartment' is a little much. Lali says I can see the whole Presidium from the living room window."

"You haven't been up yet?" He asks, surprised while he presses the button to call the elevator, "It is your place isn't it, ma'am?"

"It is. But considering I was in the hospital for 'so long', I just let her move everything in. Seemed a whole lot easier than coming into a cold apartment with boxes everywhere," She shrugs, and winces immediately after as she shifts her elbow back. She can see his hand flex out of the corner of her eye, probably unconsciously because he'd been their field medic during their hunt for Saren. She offers him a smile instead, if not to comfort his worry than to ease her own pain, "Got plans for the rest of the day, Lieutenant?"

"No ma'am. Any reports Councilor Anderson needed from me are done. Less medical leave than it is a glorified shore leave now," He responds, stepping into the elevator after her, "Not that it isn't appreciated."

"Wait," She says, his hand hovering over the control panel as he turns to her. Kodelyn hesitates for a moment, wondering if she was about to make a horrible mistake or overstep the blurry lines they've drawn in the sand, "Would you -- would you want to come up to the apartment? Far as I'm concerned you spent more time in my hospital room than you did actually enjoying the time off. I could...I don't know make lunch?"

"Commander -- Shepard..." She can see the gears turning in his head, working through problem and solutions faster than she can try to figure out what he's thinking about. She'd seen it the few times she'd flirted with him outright on the SR-1.

"I just offered lunch, not my hand in marriage, Alenko," His cheeks flush at the notion while she leans over to hit the button for the part of the Presidium her new-home-away-from-home-that-got-destroyed-when-a-Reaper-attacked-but-apparently-they-don't-exist was on. Trying not to make it obvious that even she was reconsidering her offer, she steamrolls ahead, " 'Course if you're busy or you don't want to come up, I'll understand."

There's a long pause that she wants to fill with anything but silence, yet holds her tongue to keep from rambling before she says something she wouldn't want him hearing. The one time she wants her omni-tool to ping like it always does in the worst of times, it's surprisingly quiet. Thanks a lot, Liara, she thinks, You don't need anything from me now?

"That'd be nice, Shepard," He finally answers, and a weight is lifted off her chest, smiling again. Yet another thought runs through her head as she does pull up her omni-tool and scrolls through the messages from her sister. Had she gone shopping, or was she promising him noodles from down in the Wards?

Was Lali over right now?

She'd never been that out of the loop before, especially with a place she was trusting her security to for the time being. It's definitely unsettling, and shakes her a bit. However, she closes out the orange and white UI, deciding she'd work around any obstacle there was to this idea. The Council had been one of them to Saren, but she'd managed to bring him down. Finding something to eat with the Lieutenant had to be easier than that, "Got a preference?"

"Ordering in, ma'am?" He asks a question to answer her own.

"No, cooking if my sister did her job," He looks at her sideways, furrowing his brow as if disbelieving her statement, "What? You think that's outside my expertise, Alenko?" She asks, gently nudging his shoulder. She really would've done it harder if her own wasn't already sliding out of it's socket, or at least it feels like it. So many loose screws in her body right now, she wasn't even entirely functional.

"Of course not. You're a talented woman, Shepard. I didn't think it extended to the kitchen, is all," He answers, his tone changing to match her's. His expression changes to one of bashfulness, setting something aflame inside her with the compliment, "Not that you shouldn't be capable of anything you put your mind to, ma'am."

"Stop that, you'll make me blush." She says, trying not to reflexively turn from him, her cheeks burning. He returns it with a grin, and she steps out into the cool air of the Presidium.

Apartment ('luxury', she'd never get over that part. Thankfully as soon as she returned to service on the Normandy she could let it collect dust and not think about how much this cost -- let her parents have it) number 630. She gets turned around for a bit in the new, very shiny complex, trying to keep her head down from anyone who might recognize her and attempting to find the home herself. Lieutenant Alenko is a little more starstruck than she is, to where she finds him two hallways down from her new place admiring the view. They stay for a moment, watching skycars fly by. This is the time that Kodelyn finally sees the entirety of the damage that Sovereign had done, and it throws her for a loop. Within the past two weeks, Citadel forces had been able to do quite a bit of cleaning up, but it was still obvious the station had been shaken.

She'd prevented the worst of it. But people had still lost their lives.

And here she was, still here.

There's a beat of silence before she feels his hand grasp her's by her side. She flinches, "You...did all you could, Shepard. There are a lot of people who have their lives because of you."

"Probably. Doesn't keep me from feeling bad though," His hand drops back to his side, to which she frowns but turns away from the window. If that was going to be a problem, she could at least drop the curtain in front of her own foretold windows in her apartment, "Are you still coming in for lunch, or should I leave you out here?"

He follows wordlessly after her while she waves her omni-tool over the key reader on the door. Flashing green, it slides open.

[mattzerella-sticks]

Overprotective, Coda to 14x13 “Lebanon” (John Winchester & Castiel centric, with Dean/Cas undertones)

When John was brought back, he thought things would be like they used to with his boys. Then Mary appeared, and he knew things were better.

Except no one is like how he remembered. The clear difference is their willingness to shelter an angel on the belief that it's 'family'. John knows family, and it begins and ends with blood. What happened while he was gone. Castiel can't remember, but he clears things up for John better than anyone else can.

           John was force-fed many things after coming back to life. His father dying at the hands of a demon in the future and had not run away like his mom said. And Sammy, whose favorite catchphrase growing up was “I’m never going to be like you, dad” was now actively hunting and enjoying it. Even Mary coming back to life was easier to swallow since he knew resurrections were possible after experiencing his own. But this – what he’s staring at now – has him choking.

           Dean was adamant John couldn’t gank the creature they’ve now taken into their Bunker. Ready to thrust the blade into its non-beating heart, John ordered a disobedient Dean to stand down. His son ignored him.

           “He’s family,” Dean said.

           John scoffed. “Is that why he attacked us?”

           He didn’t answer John’s question, casting doubtful eyes at the creature behind him. The angel – Cas his son called it, Castiel the creature corrected him – glared, struggling in his handcuffs. “He’s family,” Dean repeated, “And we’re gonna figure out what happened.”

           John didn’t trust it for a second. And Castiel mirrored his feelings. Every action of Dean’s was met with resistance and hesitance, unsure why it was left alive just a little bit longer. But Dean, Sam, and Mary vouched for it. Joked with it, when they could. Dean made a passing comment that made his stomach roil. “Been meaning to get you in cuffs someday, Cas…”

           Something must have happened from placing Castiel in the back of the car and arriving at the Bunker. Sam led it down, the creature railing furiously against him, while Dean trailed behind wearing the most miserable mask John ever saw on him. He only broke those out on special occasions, like Sam leaving them for normalcy or when John confessed his deathbed deal. John wished he imagined the tear that leaked, Dean too slow to wipe it away.

           They set it up in one of the Bunker’s many dungeons. A worn, wooden chair surrounded by holy oil and fire; comforts John believes were too comfortable for the creature. Dean wouldn’t look at him as he trudged away towards the library. Sam went with, after a few minutes verbally sparring with John – ‘There’s the kid I remember raising’. He left, Mary taking the first watch over Castiel.

           His boys figured out what happened, and as were the other problems afflicting the world, it was because of him – of John coming back to life. “The timeline was messed with by bringing dad back – as if he never left. So all of our lives were changed. Ours and everyone we ever met. Us and…”

           “And Cas,” Dean finished, voice strained as if he didn’t want to do so. “Because of one stupid wish…”

           He wanted to scream, to tell his son to screw the angel; that a creature has never made the life of any Winchester better. A creature killed his father, killed his wife, damned his youngest – why feel this much over something that’s encoded to destroy their family? John grunted only half of what he was thinking. Dean turned cold, setting dead eyes on him. When he first came back they were vibrant green, like trees in the midst of spring. Now they were barren oaks suffering through a harsh winter. “You don’t know what Cas has gone through for us… with us… how much he’s changed. How much he means to me… to us.”

           Dean stormed out of the room before John could ask how much meaning there was. He confronted Sam about it. “They’ve always had this,” he shrugged, “What did Cas call it…? A ‘profound bond’; they’re connected, and always have been since Cas rescued Dean from hell… except now he didn’t, in this timeline, so…”

           Mary was less helpful. “I had my doubts at first, but you’ve never seen the real Castiel. Watched him with our boys… with Dean. Maybe you can, if they can figure out to fix the timeline and keep you here. Then you’ll understand.” She kissed him on his cheek, leaving to relieve Dean of his post.

           There was more to the story John wasn’t seeing. And it was made exponentially confusing when he found Dean’s legal pad in the library. He just missed him, his computer still warm and papers strewn everywhere. Trying to show he was ready to be civil, he started cleaning. Written in Dean’s tiny scrawl was a list of people with their names crossed off, little blurbs written next to them.

           Charlie Bradbury – owns her own startup.

           Kevin Tran – graduated Princeton, valedictorian, NEVER PROPHET

           Jody Mills – still sheriff

           Donna Hanscum – still sheriff

           Bobby Singer – still dead

           Ellen Harvelle – dead

           Jo Harvelle – hunter; wanted

           Ash – freakin’ NASA

           Garth – arrested; poor guy

           Claire Novak – MISSING

           Jack – gone…

           CAS

           The tearstains around the creature’s name mocked him. Evidence of the disruption his reappearance caused his oldest son; the conflict warring inside Dean, the casualties all written out for John to see. Having proof of what his act of coming back did to the world, John understood the course he had to take. Saw the road signs telling him to turn off the highway in a few miles.

           Hearing Dean’s footsteps, John scurried away, dropping his list. There were other things for him to do; that needed to be done if this all ended like he was expecting it to.

           Mary wouldn’t leave them alone easily, which he anticipated. But John knew her, and waited for her bladder to give out like any middle-aged mother of two. When she told him she’d be back in less than two minutes, he nodded. Then, when he was sure Mary was far enough away, he locked the door.

           Leaving him alone with Castiel.

           “If you’re going to kill me, then by all means,” it said, “I’m getting rather tired of this.”

           “I’d like that,” John told him, “Nothing would make me happier to stick an angel blade where the sun don’t shine and watch the life drain out of you. But that wouldn’t solve anything…”

           Castiel tilted his head, squinting. “Are you under the delusion that you can get me to ‘remember’ as well?”

           “No, I know you won’t recall anything they’re asking.”

           It sighed. “I wish the others were more like you. Straightforward, cruel… everything we expected of humans. But they… they are so muddled.”

           John’s interest piqued. He stalked closer. “Muddled?”

           “It’s… how do I explain,” Castiel said, “humans give off these wavelengths that angels can pick up on. All the ones that stood guard over me, their minds were clouded with so many… feelings and opinions. And what was surprising was that many of them were about me. About things I have never experienced. The woman tried using kindness, the tallest one joked, but it was the one called Dean…”

           John frowned. “What about my boy?”

           “His longing was the strongest,” Castiel confessed, “the most confusing. So many feelings poured over me every time he entered the room – even now I feel their trace, through the thick, most likely protected walls in my prison. There was so much longing… angels are used to channeling it, but to be the cause, the center, the drive of such emotion is unheard of. It hurt. Being exposed to it for long periods of time, like in that car, caused me great pains! So I –“

           “What did you do?”

           “I shouted at him to stop! That he was out of his depth – living a fabricated lie! Angels know everything, are all-powerful. We’ve seen creation through from the very beginning; have shone in the light of God, himself. Why would they sacrifice that for humans? Why would I turn against everything I knew for one man? Angels are made to serve God not humans – not him. We’re weapons. We have no thought of friendship or love. To love a human would debase ourselves, making us no better than you.”

           Mary banged at the door, begging him to let her in and stop whatever he has planned. He can’t though. John slammed his foot on the gas pedal and hurdled down towards that shiny tunnel. Castiel confirmed a lot in his little tirade. Things John wasn’t willing to accept at first. That differed from the boys he knew and raised.

           ‘But they aren’t who I know anymore,’ he realized, ‘and honestly… I never raised them.’ He impacted their decisions like a heavy shadow hanging over them. But the qualities he saw in his boys now were nothing John had in stock. His sons became better men than him, and any choice they made was right because it was the exact opposite decision he would have come to.

           Overcome with guilt for the first time, John cried.

           Castiel shot him a withered glance. “Of course… you go and become muddled as well.”

           Wiping away the tears, John kneeled down to face Castiel at eye-level. “Listen up,” he started, “I’m only going to say this once. Now, when things get put back right, you might not remember this. Or maybe you will… who knows. Either way, I have to say this, to make things right with my boys.”

           “I don’t know why you’re so important to them, why they let a creature like you become their friend, or why my son decided to fall in love with you even though you’re clearly wearing a man like a cheap suit. And I might never know, because I don’t deserve it. The man who did, he died years ago in a fire up in Lawrence. All that was left for them was a burnt out husk of a man with nothing fueling him for revenge. Figured my boys were nothing but the same. You’re so damn lucky that’s not true.”

           He’s just a man, but it’s clear to him the terror he struck within Castiel. John continued. “I can’t wipe away all my sins, but I can try asking for forgiveness where it counts. Then maybe I’ll deserve that peace I had. But you – you’ll be here with my family. And all I can say… all I ask… is you watch over them.”

           “…What?”

           “Do what I couldn’t do for them. Protect them, show them each day that not every creature is past saving. Keep ‘em tied to their humanity.”

           “I don’t know what you are –“

           “And show Dean the love he deserves,” he whispered back, “Some nights, even back before I died, I did wonder if I robbed him of a normal life. Broke him, and that he could never work right. That’d haunt me almost as bad as Mary’s death and Sam’s affliction whenever the booze ran out. Castiel you performed a miracle and gave him a second chance. I can’t be selfish anymore. I’ve had my shot at happiness… it’s about time he has his. That they all did.”

           “This makes no sense,” Castiel shouted, fighting his chains, “Your prayers… so much grief and guilt… I can’t –“ It carried on like that, even as he spun around to leave. John opened the door.

           Mary barreled in. Eyeing a distraught Castiel, she turned to him. “What did you do?”

           “Casti… Cas and I shared a few words,” he said, “I’m gonna go speak to the boys. And Mary?”

           “Yes, John.”

           “I… I love you.” He dropped a kiss onto her, a gentle brush of their lips before slipping out into the hallway.

           He saved her for last, their goodbye too painful he wouldn’t finish what he had to if he began it there. John still had loose strings to tie up before the fabric of reality was corrected. And he had to work fast so that it wouldn’t completely unravel by the time hew as done. The world asked of him one last time, to prove that there was no one left on it that truly needed him.

           His boys were waiting. Mary was waiting. And so was his Heaven.

[zainclaw]

the worst I could be; part one

weak

Jacob wakes with a start, gasping for air as his hands clutch at the bedding beneath him. His eyes are burning, lungs hurting, as if he's still running through the cloud of smoke. His ears are ringing with the sound left by the grenade, throwing his whole world off balance. His heart is racing, eyes wide as he takes in his surroundings.

It doesn't take long to realize where he is, and where he's not. It never does.

He slumps back on the bed, chest still heaving. He can feel the shirt sticking to his skin, sweat beading all over his scalp, and he kicks at the blankets to get some relief. He swallows, throat feeling tight and sore. And not because he's been exposed to teargas, but because he's been screaming. His eyes are burning because he's been crying, cheeks still wet.

Shame sets in, and Jacob grits his teeth inside his mouth as he drapes an arm over his face in a pointless attempt to hide from it.

There are nights when he can't sleep at all, when he'll toss and turn for hours until the soft mattress doesn't feel comfortable anymore. He drives himself crazy those nights, eventually getting up to do something productive rather than waste away hours in bed. Usually he takes to cleaning his weapons, or going for a walk around the compound. Checking in on the prisoners, his judges. Sometimes he's able to catch a few hours rest before sunrise, sometimes not.

But regardless of the lack of sleep on those nights, leaving his body weak and heavy come morning, he still prefers it over the nightmares.

Some of them are the same, identical to the memories they're drawn from, while others just use bits and pieces of reality. Sometimes he's falling, gun and parachute on his back, reliving the fear of getting separated from his squad every goddamn time he jumped out of an airplane. Sometimes he's wandering through the endless desert, wolves howling all too close. Sometimes he's cowering in a corner, Old Man Seed standing over him with a belt in hand.

Sometimes it's just Miller's face frozen in fear and disbelief.

Fire. There's always fire; biting his skin. More often than not he wakes up patting his arms as if to put the flames out. Sometimes there's an itch under his skin, and he wakes up clawing at his forearms with bitten down fingernails. Drawing blood, just wanting the pain to stop. He has to take a cold shower for the feeling to go away, and even that brings back memories.

His men know. Of course they do.

Back when they first took this place, making it their base of operations in the mountains, it only took a couple days before Jacob jolted awake one night to find two of his guys leaning over him in bed.

Just like the nurses back at the hospital, who'd heard his screams cut through the night and only wanted to help, they'd tried to wake him. Tried to relieve him from his horrors. And all they got in return was a punch to the face, or somewhere lower if they were lucky.

Jacob never blamed them for wanting him out of there, nor the people at the homeless shelter where he ended up after. He was a broken man, still howling in pain even after his ugly wounds had healed. He was a burden—a danger, some might argue. In a lot ways he felt like a ticking bomb.

Trauma, a doctor's voice whispers at the back of his head. It's trauma, and you need to deal with it.

No, Jacob wants to scream back. Just let me forget.

Since that first incident, when he'd given one of his own guards a black eye, no one comes running to wake him up from his bad dreams anymore. Jacob doesn't want to guess what the men are thinking, what they tell the new recruits.

Pratt knows, too. A couple days after the deputy got moved into the house, Jacob had woken up one morning with the familiar soreness in his throat, and he'd felt Pratt's eyes on him all during breakfast. He'd ignored it, escaping into the woods to hunt down the first thing that came across his path. Pratt never talked about it, of course. He wouldn't dare to, and that's how Jacob likes it.

Once his erratic breathing has calmed down some, his heart slowing down to a steadier beat, Jacob sits up with a grunt. His bare feet touch the cool floor, elbows resting on his knees as he holds his head in his hands. The shirt is still sticking to his back, so he takes it off. Throws it on the bed next to him before getting up, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

The nights are warm, even up here in the mountains, but he still puts on some pants before heading out on the balcony. His rifle is leaning against the wall next to the double doors, always ready. Jacob lets his fingers slide along the long barrel as he walks past, the familiarity of it reassuring.

Safe, he tells himself, a mantra inside his head. Safe. I am safe.

It's why he'd picked the old veteran center, why he'd picked the third floor for himself. He'd wanted sight, he'd wanted security, he'd wanted control. The upper floor is the perfect sniper spot towards the front of the building, while the tall mountains make it difficult to ambush from the back. The surrounding stone fences are tall, guards patrolling around the clock. And there are no better guard dogs than his judges.

Jacob leans forward, resting his sleeves on the railing. The fresh air is nice, clearing his head a little. He looks down at the yard below, some of his men talking in hushed voices down on the porch while switching shifts, but other than that it's quiet. During the day the place is a lot more lively, people laughing and hollering as they play cards, arrange fist fights, or tell each other stories over a hot meal. Typical military shit.

He looks further, looks out over the valley in the distance. It's too foggy to see much, but it's enough to know that somewhere down there, not too far away, are his brothers. It's enough to easen some of the anxiety still raging within him, enough to breathe a little easier.

When he and Miller were lost in that desert, walking for days and days, Jacob had thought about his brothers a lot. He'd struggled to remember their faces, even as young as they were last time he'd seen them. The guys in his squad all had pictures in their wallets—wives, pregnant girlfriends, kids, parents, big family photos.

Jacob didn't have anything.

He had nothing to remember his brothers by, other than his own fading memories. And he'd held on to them with everything he had, refusing to forget baby John's chubby cheeks or Joseph's long, messy hair. Despite all the years apart, he never considered anyone but his two brothers his family. Not the friends he made in juvie, or in the army. He'd held on to that bleak picture of his baby brothers he hadn't seen for years, and it's what kept him going. What kept him alive.

There are photos now. Joseph had made sure of that. None of which Jacob would keep in his wallet, but it still means something. That they exist. That they have something worth calling a family photo.

A longing erupts in his chest, and Jacob swallows around the lingering discomfort in his throat. He pushes himself off the railing, heading back inside his dark room. Rounding the table, he catches a glimpse of his reflection on a shiny surface, and quickly looks away.

While Joseph and John had gotten their mother's hair, Jacob got their father's. As a kid he used to think it was unfair, and as he got older he'd started hating it. Because the older he got, the more he looked like their old man. He knows exactly what he'd look like now, if he let his hair grow out.

So he doesn't. He kept his head shaved all through his time in the military, and is still determined on not letting it grow back out fully. But despite his efforts, he still sees his father whenever he looks into a mirror. Sometimes he wonders if Joseph does, too. He prays John doesn't remember the man.

Jacob picks up the hand radio from the table.

Joseph is probably sleeping. He never had problems with it, even as a kid. It was little John who used to tug at Jacob's sleeve at night, asking to sleep in Jacob's bed whenever he got scared. And even after reuniting as adults, getting to know one another all over again, Jacob knows John still struggles with it. Knows that there is a big possibility of him being awake right now, with the radio within hearing distance.

Jacob lifts the radio to his chin, lips parting as his thumb presses down on the button. There's a blip of static, then silence. John's name is on the tip of his tongue, but nothing comes out.

What is he supposed to say? What is he supposed to tell John in the dead of night? That he misses him? That he's worried about him, even now? That he had a bad dream?

He's supposed to be strong one. The one supposed to look after his brothers, and not the other way around. John expects his big brother to be strong, to not cry in his sleep like a scared little child.

Weak, hisses a voice that sounds an awful lot like his father's at the back of his mind. After a whole life, he still remembers what the man sounded like. Remembers how his breath used to stink of alcohol whenever we got right up in your face. Weak. You are weak.

Jacob releases the button.

He puts the radio back down with too much force, gripping the edge of the table with both hands. He clenches his teeth together, feeling the burn behind his eyes, and he hates it. He snarls, frustrated, and slams a fist on the table before stepping away.

He will not be weak. He will be strong. He has to be. For John. For Joseph. It's all that mattered then, and it's all that matters now.

He'll deal with this moment of weakness alone, just like he always has. He'll sit with his rifle in the dark and wait for dawn to come.

[occasionalfics]

Finding You, iii

part ii

Summary: You finally get to meet the team, but it’s not all sunshine and apple pie.

A/N: Finally! Kraglin! :D

Tags: @fandommemporiumm

Words: 3,752

~~~

The ride only took about 3 hours from start to finish. You’d fallen asleep halfway through and missed the landing, but Peter woke you up and handed you your bags when it was time to disembark.

You hadn’t realized exactly where you were until you stepped off the jet and looked at Manhattan around you. Tony Stark must really hate airports, you thought, because you were thousands of feet above the thick of the city. And then you looked ahead of you at the tall, pointed, shiny building and your breath caught in your throat.

You recognized this place from TV. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing me to Stark Tower!” you said, following Peter into a lavish, modern room. There was a bar across from you, stocked full with so many different colored bottles it was ridiculous.

“I think it’s Avengers tower now,” he said, a high inflection at the end of now indicating he wasn’t sure.

“Pete!” someone yelled. You put down one of your bags as a skinny form came into the room. You could barely see the person over Peter’s shoulder, but you heard them as they approached. “I got the Milano fixed. She needs some fuel, but we should be ready to go in a day or two.”

“Milano?” you asked. You lowered your lids at Peter’s back, hoping he’d turn to you. “Never grew outta that one, did you?”

He did, indeed, turn to you. “Of course not! Samantha was my first crush!”

“Who’s Samantha?” the other person asked.

Peter stepped out of the way as you put your other bag down. “She was a character on this show I used to watch as a kid. Alyssa Milano played her.”

“Your ship is named after a Terran actress from 30 years ago?” the stranger asked.

“That’s not the point,” Peter mumbled. “Anyway. Kraglin, this is my step-sister, (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Kraglin.”

You stood straight and looked at Kraglin, the one Guardian you couldn’t remember seeing on TV during the whole Thanos debacle. He was thin and covered in spots of black - you assumed from fixing the Milano. He sported red pants like Peter’s, a white tank top, and a thin strip of dark spiked hair that went down the center of his head. When he smiled, his teeth were crooked and spaced oddly, but you thought that was almost charming. And when you met his eyes, you stopped for a second. They were so clear, so blue, like nothing you’d seen before. Maybe it was just the small-town in you, or it was because he was another Spaceman, but either way, you liked the look of his eyes.

You held your hand out to him. “Nice to meet you, Kraglin,” you said.

He smiled wider and shook your hand,

“You’re back,” a deep, mechanical voice said.

You pulled your gaze from Kraglin to stare around him at the blue alien by the door. You recognized her, at least. She was covered in metal scraps and had a constant angry glare in her eye. Her voice had seemed annoyed, but she stood tall and tried to keep as calm a look as possible.

“Nebula, this is-” Peter started.

She looked at you around Kraglin and shrugged. “Don’t care. Gamora’s been trying to get a hold of you for days.” She walked across the room, poured herself a glass of something, and downed it before going for a second one.

“You don’t wanna take it easy?” Peter asked, concern all over his face.

“I’m celebrating,” she said before downing the second glass.

Kraglin pulled his hand back from yours. You’d forgotten all about the handshake, honestly, and you only had a few seconds to blush before someone else came into the room.

“You did not bring another pet home with you, Quill,” she said. You recognized her, too. Gamora. She had her hair out of her face in a ponytail, her light pink ends just barely grazing her shoulders. She glared at you like the foreign entity you were.

Peter, on the other hand, looked at her like she had all the answers to the universe. You couldn’t decide who to look at.

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “This is my step-sister, (Y/N).”

“You have a sister?” Gamora asked.

“Hi,” you said with a small wave. She looked at you, then at Peter and waited for an explanation.

“It’s a long story,” he said. “But yes. And she’s going with us.”

“No,” Gamora said. “There’s no reason for that, really.”

“Why not?” Kraglin asked.

You were surprised as you looked at him. He was staring at you, his hand still slightly outstretched from earlier.

“Can you fight?” Gamora asked, pulling your attention to her.

“No, ma’am,” you said.

“Can you shoot?” she asked.

You shrugged. “Used to,” you said, thinking of the times your dad took you hunting. You went more for the company than the sport, and you never actually killed anything, but you still knew a bit about how to hold a gun and how to aim.

“Gamora, she’s not going to be a Guardian. She’s going to be Sally Ride,” Peter nearly whispered.

“I have no idea what that is,” she responded, her brows as low as her lids.

“She was an astronaut,” you said. “The first American woman in Space, and one’a my heroes as a kid.”

“You know what we do, right?” Gamora asked.

You nodded. “I watched the whole battle on TV back home,” you said. You looked at Kraglin and gave him a sympathetic smile. “You were the only one I didn’t see.”

He shrugged. “The Milano got damaged on impact,” he said. “I been fixin’er for the better part of a week.”

“You can’t go with us,” Gamora said. She looked at you, then at Peter with a stern glance.

He lowered his brows at her. “She’s going, and as Captain, I-”

“You’re not Captain,” she said. “We’re a team, Quill.”

“If we’re a team, then you don’t get to make the decisions, Gamora,” he said.

She rolled her eyes at him.

“I can sew,” you said. “And cook. I prefer baking, but I don’t mind making meals, too. And I can learn to do other things, too.”

She looked at you. All of them were, then. Even Nebula, over the top of her glass.

“Maybe we should vote on it,” Kraglin said without looking away from you.

You smiled at him softly, glad that someone else was on your side. You could understand why Gamora didn’t want you around - she’d just been through hell and you didn’t even know what else. One more person on their team was probably more of a burden than it was worth.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “We’ll vote. All of us, as a team.” He put his hands on his hips and smirked at Gamora, who sighed and shut her eyes briefly.

“Fine,” she said. “But that means you have to introduce her to Drax and Rocket.”

“Introduce us to who?” you heard.

In came the small raccoon - Rocket - with Groot just behind him. You were surprised, but not at seeing them. Maybe ten years ago you would’ve fallen over in shock, but after the things you’d seen on TV, this was nothing. What surprised you was the scale of them - for some reason, you imagined Rocket being bigger and Groot smaller. But there they were, and staring at you. Rocket snarled.

“Who the fuck’s this?” he asked.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Get Drax and Mantis first. I’m tired’a repeatin’ myself.” He came over, picked up your bags, and put them with his. Then he came back over to you. “Fair warning, but Drax is super literal. About everything. Doesn’t get jokes, like, at all.”

You nodded. “And Mantis?” you asked.

He shrugged. “She can sense your emotions if she touches you, but she’s good about askin’ first.”

“I am Groot,” Groot said.

Rocket turned and looked up at him. “I have no idea who she is, Groot,” he said. “Quill won’t tell.”

“Just go get Drax,” Peter said again.

Rocket mumbled something, then left the room. No one said anything for a beat, but then Kraglin took a step toward you. “Where’d you come from?” he asked like it was a normal question. Maybe it was.

“Missouri,” you said, looking from him to Peter and back.

“You know, where I’m from?” Peter said.

“Right,” Kraglin said. “None’a us knew Pete had a sister. Or a...what’d you call’er?” he asked, turning his head to look at Peter again.

“Step-sister,” he said. “My mom was married to her dad.”

“I thought your mom was married to Ego,” Nebula said.

“No,” Peter said. “Definitely not.”

“Meredith married my dad after Peter was born,” you said. “They were really good friends most of their lives.”

“Pete ain’t never mentioned anything ‘bout that,” Kraglin said. “And I’ve known him longest.”

You stared at him, trying to figure out what that meant. You realized, again, how little you knew about Peter.

Rocket returned with a huge green and red man and a small, pale woman with antenna.

“Who’s that?” Drax asked, looking directly at you.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Everyone, this is my step-sister, (Y/N). She knows who you all are. She’s here because she’s ready to leave Terra with us. She cooks, she sews, and she’s my family.” You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at that. “Gamora doesn’t want to bring her with us. Kraglin thought we should vote.”

“How can we vote when we don’t know who she is?” Mantis asked, her large, dark eyes searching the faces of everyone in the room.

“Who are you?” Rocket asked.

You looked at them all, even Nebula, who was still at the bar. You shrugged. “I’m a librarian,” you said quietly. “I want to be Sally Ride. Or, well, I wanted to be Sally Ride when I was a kid. Now... I dunno.”

“I am Groot,” you heard again.

“No I dunno who Sally Ride is, Groot,” Rocket mumbled.

Mantis crossed the room to you, her eyes wide, taking up most of her face. “Maybe I can help,” she said.

You looked at Peter, nodded when he did, and held a hand out to her. She touched your forearm, but that was all you felt. Nothing happened at first. She was just as quiet as you were.

“You are excited,” she said finally. “And scared. What scares you?” she asked.

“I mean, leavin’ the place I’ve known all my life is terrifying,” you said, looking only at her. “But I’ve never gone anywhere or done anything.”

“You have a good heart. I can feel it,” she said quietly.

You stared at Mantis, trying to smile. “Thanks,” you said, pulling your arm back.

“A good heart don’ mean nothing if you can’t hold your own,” Rocket said.

“I am Groot.”

“That’s good, but doesn’t mean she should come,” Rocket responded.

“What did he say?” Gamora asked, slowly tearing her eyes from you.

“He said he likes her,” Rocket said. “Seems nice.”

“How can he know that?” Drax asked. “He doesn’t know her.”

You sighed and looked at Peter again. “Maybe I’ll just go back,” you said quietly.

He shook his head. “No. You wanted to come here. We’re gonna vote and then you’ll go with us-”

“You don’t know that enough of us will vote for her,” Nebula said.

There were too many people in the room, too many people trying to talk all at once. There were too many people doubting who you were or how worthy of their trust you were. You threw your hands up and went to grab your bags. “It’s fine,” you said. “This is too much trouble.”

Peter got in your way. He gave you a stern look, unlike anything you remembered seeing on Meredith’s face.

“Peter,” you whispered. “This isn’t worth it.”

“Of course it is,” he said. “They’ll come around.” Then louder: “We’ll vote tomorrow. We still got time before we leave”

“I could show’er around, Pete,” Kraglin said.

The two of you looked at him. You smiled. Peter shrugged.

“Sure,” he said. “I’ve gotta few things to do.” He picked up your bags and handed one to Kraglin. You took the other before he could hand it over too.

He went off with Gamora to another room. They mumbled to one another, but you tried not to listen. It was rude to eavesdrop, you thought. In the meantime, Kraglin waved for you to follow him. You passed Drax, Rocket, and Groot on your way out the of the room, smiling politely at them all. You wanted them to like you. They were heroes, and they were going to decide whether you went into Space or went back to Missouri.

When you were in the next hallway, you looked around at all of Tony Stark’s embellishments. The place looked like a fancy hotel, at least on this side of the building. There were paintings along the walls and fancy sconces, and doors that lead to god only knows where. Kraglin led you down, turning to one of the doors at the end of the hall. He pushed the door open, put your bag on the floor inside, and let you pass him.

“Pete’s room is right next door,” he said. “Thought you’d be comfortable with this one.”

You went into the center of the room. The bed was huge and the comforter looked lush and heavy. You put the other bag down, turned, and smiled at him. “Thank you,” you said, pushing some hair behind your ear. “You don’t happen to know if any of the Avengers are around, do you?” you asked.

His face dropped. You regretted asking.

“I was just, you know. They’re real big here, I guess-”

“I get it,” he said. “They left a couple’a days ago. Stark’s taking a sabbatical or somethin’. ‘S jus’ been us.”

“The Guardians of the Galaxy,” you said, hoping it made up for the disappointment.

It seemed to. He smield again, a small smile as he nodded. “I ain’t much of a guardian,” he said. “Ain’t been with the team long, anyway.”

You went back into the hallway and let him close the door. “But you said you’ve known Peter the longest,” you said, tipping your head to one side.

Kraglin lead the way down the hall and into a staircase. “Well, Pete was part’a the crew I used ta be on. I was First Mate.”

“He mentioned you were a good one,” you said, following him down the stairs. “So before you were a Guardian, you were a…” You didn’t want to say Space Pirate. You didn’t know what the term was, but Peter had let you believe they were pirates. You had the feeling that wasn’t right.

“Ravager,” he said, pushing a door open on the next floor.

You followed him into another hallway, This one was bigger, with fewer doors. The walls were metal rather than concrete, and the lights were a bit more harsh. You wondered, for a moment, if you were even in the same building.

“We picked him up when he was a kid,” he said.

“I know,” you said. “My dad and I looked for him for years. I never even considered alien abduction.”

“We didn’ abduct him,” he said.

You rose your eyebrows, continuing to walk down the hall with him at your side. “Well it’s not like he asked to be taken into space at eight years old.”

“His daddy paid us,” he said. “Turned out to be a jackass, but he paid us well.”

You still didn’t exactly know how to feel about that. Of course you hated Peter’s father - his birth father. He’d abandoned Meredith, never came back to see her when she got sick, and to top it all off, you’d literally just learned he’d robbed your dad of the opportunity to keep as much of Meredith in his life as possible. But the people that had aided in Peter going to space? That seemed to be a different story, according to how Peter spoke of them.

“If you were the First Mate, there must’ve been a Captain, right?” you asked. “What was he like?”

Kraglin stared at you before turning into one of the rooms along the hall. It turned out to be a kitchen with stainless steel industrial sized refrigerators and a huge stovetop. Counters lined the walls, and utensils and tools hung from hooks, sat in containers, and stuck out from the sink in the corner. It wasn’t an exceptional room, and you wondered why Kraglin had brought you here.

“Thought you might be hungry,” he said.

You noted how he dodged the question you asked. Peter hadn’t talked about the Captain either.

“I guess I am. A little,” you said. You went to one of the fridges and glanced in it. Tony Stark kept the place loaded, but why wouldn’t he? There were probably people in the tower all the time, and they needed to eat, too. You pulled out something simple - jelly, because you wanted answers and didn’t want to focus on cooking - then went to a cabinet on the opposite side of the room to find bread and peanut butter. After you found a knife, you went to work. “You want one?” you asked.

Kraglin shrugged. “Sure,” he said. He paused, leaned against the counter facing away from you, and said, “May as well make enough fer everyone. They like ta eat.”

“Nobody has a peanut allergy?” you asked.

Another pause. Then he said, “Not sure. Don’t got a lotta Terran peanuts in Space.”

You stopped what you were doing for a beat and stared at him. “No peanuts…” you muttered. “Well, we’ll just have to change that. Peanuts are amazing, as long as you’re not allergic. You ever had this stuff, Kraglin?” you asked, holding up the jar of peanut butter.

He shook his head. “Didn’ even know it was in here. Or what it is.”

“Well if you were allergic to it, we’d already know,” you said, knowing that wasn’t exactly how peanut allergies worked all the time. Still, you pulled a spoon out of the drawer next to you and pulled a dollop of the butter out of the jar. He stared at it as you handed it to him. You pushed it into his hand and said, “Try it.”

He took the whole thing in at once, then struggled to get it off the spoon and down his throat. You laughed gently as you went back to making the sandwiches.

“Shit’s dry,” he said.

You nodded. “But it’s good, right?” you asked.

He chuckled. “Yeah. Make me two’a those, if ya don’ mind.”

You rose your eyebrows quickly, then went back to spreading condiments on bread. He went across the room, put the spoon in the sink, then found a drink. You waited until he was leaning against the counter again, watching you patiently as you placed sandwiches in paper towels, wrapping them individually. You handed him his two, then took one for yourself, turning to lean against the counter with him.

“So Kraglin,” you said between bites.

He glanced at you without turning his head, eating quickly.

“Was Peter taken care of?” you asked. “In space? I know he didn’t go to his daddy. But you must’ve helped raise him, then, right?”

He shrugged. “Kinda. I was a kid when we picked him up, too, but old enough to show him alotta the ropes.”

“Like what?” you asked, partially because you wanted to get to the Captain again, and partially because you wanted to know what you’d missed out on.

“Taught him how to fix an engine, for one,” he said between chews. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, spreading some of the black dirt across his chin. You giggled at it, but didn’t say anything. “When he first came on, I was kinda his only friend. I was the youngest in the crew ‘til then. Guess he felt kinda safe with me’er somethin’.”

“I can see that,” you said, glancing at him softly.

He sighed. “I helped teach him how to fight, how to shoot. ‘Course when he was older I had to answer a bunch’a questions ‘bout kissin’ and shit like that.”

You half-laughed at that. That should’ve been you, you thought. Kraglin had gotten your job, and you didn’t even know it until then. He didn’t seem to know it, either, as he went on.

“He ain’t never said a word ‘bout you, but he told me lots about his mamma.”

You put the last corner of your sandwich on the counter and turned to face him. “He was really young when our parents got married. It wasn’t a big wedding or anything, either. I think it was for insurance, now that I’m older, but I know my dad loved Meredith. I did, too. It was hard not to.”

“She gave him music,” he said. “It was the only thing that made him happy for a long time.”

You watched him for a minute as he finished the second sandwich. He sighed, crossed his arms, and looked ahead of him with a blank stare. There was something endearing about his pensive glance, especially knowing it had something to do with Peter.

“He never mentioned me? Not even once?” you asked.

Kraglin looked at you and shook his head. “He should’a,” he said softly. “‘Least he never said anythin’ to me ‘bout you.”

“I’m not surprised,” you said. “His mamma was his best friend. She was all he had for most’a his life. My dad and I didn’t get as much time with him as she did, or you.”

“Is that why you wanna go with us?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Partially. I wasn't lyin’ when I said I haven't done anything with my life. I lived in the same town for almost 40 years. I work at a library - I’ve only ever been on a plane once before today. But yeah, I still wanna get to know my brother.”

He was silent for a while then, thinking again. But this time he looked at you, then down at the floor as he nodded. You turned around, handed him a few sandwiches, and grabbed the rest yourself.

“We should hand these out if I want to start makin’ a good impression,” you said.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Ramsay Snow/Bolton

Being a young girl means that your parents are looking for future husbands for you,trying to convince some lord that you are worthy enough to have his babes and so on. But all this dull talk is fortunately not applied for a certain fox-like girl,for her mother died during childbirth,and her father sent her as a ward to the Boltons,much to his pride. Earning the favour of the second most powerful and influential Northern House was a an obvious perk for any lesser lordling.

Unbeknownst to anyone,the 9 year-old girl was hiding a much more cunning self than showed.

But she had to hide behind her sweet and innocent dumb girl façade,as it was required...

Nevertheless,that didn't mean she couldn't have fun,in secret.

--------

Being a nice Spring day,S/O decided to go pick up some flowers in the forest and admire the beautiful landscape. Finding a nice,cool stream,she dipped her small feet in the water,and started working on some flower crown...-until,she heard the irking and somehow aggressive voice of a woman.

Woman:What are you doing here,wasting time,when you have so much work to do?Get up right now and stop being such a dead beat! S/O:*smiles*I don't think you should be the one giving me orders,dear. Woman:What if I tell Lord Bolton that you're being a naughty child?He'll send you back to your silly father! S/O:How sure of that are you? Woman:Don't use that defying tone with me,you insolent child!

The girl smirked,followed with a dangerously low giggle-...

#####

Due to the echo hitting the trees,the girl was able to hear a particular individual making his way swiftly towards her,and she started screaming in panic,asking for help. The footsteps were proven to belong to the young bastard of Lord Bolton,Ramsay.

He rushed towards the girl,with his bow raised,ready to shoot,when she spotted the smaller girl,looking frantic and pointing at the corpse of the woman,laying there in the bloody stream.

Ramsay:What happened here?Were you attacked? S/O:*Th-There was a thief!H-He came here,threatening us,but that woman tried to save me a-and...h-he...k-killed her... Ramsay:Are you hurt? S/O:N-No,I don't think so,but don't mind that!What are we going to do?! Ramsay:*inspects the body*Better tell my Lord father about this and see what he thinks.Seems like the murderer had quite some fun mutilating her. S/O:*covering her face*Oh no...that's horrible... -?-:Tell me what,Ramsay? Ramsey:Father!What a coincidence- S/O:*bows*Lord Bolton.

He nodded at the girl,then inspected the body himself,then smirked. He wasn't old for no reason,and had much more experience than others can imagine.

Roose:The killer sure knew what he was doing.And Lady (L/N) had the...misfortune of finding her corpse? Ramsay:*nods*That's the story. Roose:*pats the girl's head*Ramsay,take her to the Maester and tell him to give her some dreamwine.She better sleep well,for tomorrow she'll start her studies,and they are not going to be easy. S/O:*excited*Thank you so much,my Lord! Roose:You see...when I was young,I was quite reckless in my deeds to try to prove myself to my father.*winks*I also,did the same as you did. Ramsay:*cocks an eyebrow*What do you mean,father? S/O:*giggles*Oopsy Daisy...Busted~. Roose:I will personally talk to your teachers.You don't seem like the type to disappoint,but just in case,there will be consequences. S/O:I am fully aware,My Lord.You have my deepest thanks.

Nodding,Ramsay put his furs over the frail girl's shoulders,and with an arm around her waist,he guides her back to the castle,with the young boy still very much confused.

With an innocent smile,the girl picked up one of the flower crowns she made and put it on his head,making him look weirdly at her.

Ramsay:You're so weird... S/O:But so much more intriguing than anyone else,right~? Ramsay:Mayhaps so-.

~~~~~10 years later~~~~~

The bond between the girl and the young bastard deepened over the years,yet he was still not aware of her true colours. Her,on the other hand,has been supporting him to live up to his Bolton name. And what better way,as a bastard,to gain respect,than through fear? What they both shared in common though,was their love for animals,and so,they decided that training some hounds would be the most sensible idea. Soon enough,Ramsay and his father had to leave for an unexpected fight,and S/O was left in charge,along with Roose's advisor. However,the girl had a bad feeling,so she got her riding gear and left to the fight stealthily,where she aided from the shadows.

She observed the fight,and noticed how well Ramsay fought,but much to her dismay,he was surrounded by enemies. She had to act,and fast,and being out of arrows,she put her hood up,and started running,then jumped on an enemy,and stabbed his neck. The young bastard was shocked to see his ally,but apart from a flash of red hair,he couldn't tell who it was.

After all,S/O was left at home,right?

Seeing that they were victorious,the Boltons returned home,where they were greeted with a warm smile by the red head.

S/O:Victory as expected,I presume? Ramsay:Defeat is not in our vocabulary. S/O:Any captures? Ramsay:This poor excuse of a lord who thought he could defy us.He is going experience first-hand why our House' symbol is a flayed man. S/O:*smiles*Then I will start the preparation!I will also talk to the cooks to prepare a rich feast for tonight,to celebrate another great victory! Ramsay:*smirks*Come by my room after you're finished. S/O:*nods*Please excuse me.

The preparations didn't take so long,and she found herself knocking on his chamber's door,and entering softly.

He was laying on the bed,playing with a knife absent-minded.

Ramsay:Finally,you've arrived. S/O:The victim is awaiting you,chained.All the instruments are there.And the feast has already been discussed. Ramsay:Very well.Now,how did you fare here,without us? S/O:*confused*Just as it usually is.Why ask?

He got up,and started walking towards the girl slowly,looking down at her,intimidating.Used to his demeanor,she didn’t back down.

Ramsay:You see...a strange phenomenon happened while I was on the battleground. S/O:Isn't it strange enough that wars exist? Ramsay:Might be.But this time,I witnessed a fox on the battlefield.This fox was helping us,for some reason.Killing our enemies. S/O:Oh,now that's exciting!Why didn't you bring it home? Ramsay:It ran away just before the fight ended. S/O:Oh...That's a pity..

He then smirked and grasped the girl's wrists,making her look up at him,confused. Ramsay:So tell me,dear vixen,why did you hide this from me? S/O:Ramsey... Ramsay:I could have taken you on one of my hunts. S/O:You're hurt. Ramsay:I think I would know if I was hurt. S/O:You just flinched.You're hurt and you don't realize it.Let me see it. Ramsay:Don't be absurd,just call a Maester. S/O:*raises an eyebrow*Excuse you,but I ALSO  am a trained healer.Moreover...you'd rather have some old man touching you?Really?I knew you had peculiar tastes but...oh well,I won't judge. Ramsay:Will you shut up? S/O:So immature...

He took of his shirt,revealing not only a godly-sculpted abdomen,but also,a festering wound,that made the girl bit her lip. S/O:You can't let this unattended.If this continues to fester...people die from much less... Ramsay:Then do your magic,vixen.Apparently,you have enough of it

She sighed and started preparing bandaged soaked in plant concoctions and other treatment to heal him as fast as possible. She traced her delicate fingers along his chest,and worked her magic,as he gazed at her in awe. He tried to talk to her,but she much too focused on healing him to hear what he was saying. With a sigh,she wiped her forehead as she finished the procedure,she looked at Ramsay,who had fallen asleep. Looking outside,she realized that night has fallen,and she had to announce Lord Bolton of his son's absence at the feast. Gingerly,she held his rough,calloused hand in her own delicate ones,and kissed his knuckles,praying to the Old Gods that her treatment will save him.

-----

Days and nights passed,and Ramsay seemed to make significant progress,until one night,when the girl was preparing to sleep at noon,due to exhaustion cause by staying awake to tend to the man.

Wearing her nightgown,she pulled her furs closer to her,she heard a knock on her door,making her sigh aggravated,and slam the door open.

S/O:What?!I'm trying to sleep! Ramsay:*chuckles*Aren't you glad to see your patient all healed? S/O:Yes,yes,satisfying.But you know what else is?Sleep!I haven't had the time to catch in in the last week,and I'd much appreciate it! Ramsay:Just wanted to thank my little fox,no need to get so feisty. S/O:And you did!Moreover,I never admitted that I was there either!So,good night!

With a smirk,he grabbed her by the waist,and caressing her face with his other hand,he kissed her forehead,then left the room,leaving the girl flabbergast.

#####

From then on,the two have become even closer,the Dynamic duo of the North. They had an unmatchable synergy together,one that was to be feared. However,that all changed when her father came to take her home,saying that he had found her a suitable husband. Some lord bannerman to the Boltons that would pay him a lot of money,in exchange for his daughter. The girl kept arguing with him,saying how she was deflowered,how she was barren,how she couldn't be this lord's wife,but all her pleading was in vain,as her father slapped the girl hard,taking her home,much to the young Bolton's anger. And as common courtesy called,her father invited them to the wedding as well,and they did show up. She had her shiny crimson hair up in some complicated Northern braid,unlike usual, when she’d let it flow down past her shoulders. Her natural grace was highlighted even more with the help of some make up. Upon seeing the girl,he was mesmerised,to say the least. Absolutely trapped in her charm. He knew then that he couldn’t let her go away. She would wilt faster than a thornless rose left unattended. She was his Queen,and nobody else could ever touch her.

EVER.

Gazing at her,filled with desire and rage,he realized how beautiful she looked in a white gown,like a Goddess,shining in the eternal light of Mother Moon,yet that gown wasn’t chosen by him,and nor is she wearing it for him.

She kept staring at the sky,as small snowflakes would fall and form a crown of small crystallized flowers.

Even with red eyes,from all the sobbing,she was still the most alluring girl he had ever met.

She was a true tragic beauty-...

But even this beauty paled when her future husband approached her,and started touching her indecently.

Ramsay expected her to retaliate,to fight back and be the powerful woman he came to know and love,but much to his shock,she behaved like an obedient lamb.  Then it dawned to him-  Her father threatened her.  And her husband was abusing her. 

The feast began,everyone was congratulating the newly-weds,was getting drunk and eating plenty,singing and dancing merrily-  Only the girl,who was feeling overwhelmed,left the room unnoticed and went outside,and went to sit on the snow,in the light of the moon,sobbing silently. She was a true North girl,always finding peace when connecting with the snow. Her future poor excuse of a husband was going to take her South, where there will be no snow. She couldn’t survive the deprivation.      Never would she have dreamt that such a silly little thing could blow out of proportions and take her down like this.  Never would she have dreamt that her father would use her like that.  Never would she have dreamt that she would actually have to marry.  Never would she have dreamt that she would have to go through the embarrassing bedding tradition in front of everyone-especially her former paramour.  Everything seemed like a terribly written fantasy somebody came up with,and made her play the lead role.  But what could she do?  Even if she were to run away or try to kill her husband,she might start a huge conflict,which would be inconvenient to say the least.  Her thought kept haunting her,until she felt something drape around her shoulders,and she saw Ramsay,without his furs on.  Ramsay:Quite a fancy night,don't you think?  S/O:Not quite...  Ramsay:Well,apart from the unnecessary inconvenience that had to occur,that is.  S/O:*sighs*Can't be helped.For a while,I forgot that women are supposed to only be babe factories.As if we are good for nothing...  Ramsay:Maybe some,but not you.You're not like that.  S/O:Does it seem to you like I have a choice?Because as far as I noticed,I was dragged here,against my will,to marry some shit lord.And here I am,wearing some silly wedding dress.  Ramsay:I think it looks nice on you.Then again,I could get you a far better one.  S/O:*snorts*Too bad I won't be able to try it out.  Ramsay:Who said that?   S/O:The situation I am stuck in.  Ramsay:I haven't given you my wedding gift for you yet.  S/O:*frowns*This is not the time to jest,Ramsay... 

She pouted and looked away,as he chuckled lowly. It almost seemed like they were back home.  That is,until a drunken voice was heard,calling out her name. Hearing his incoherent slurs,she flinched,closing her eyes and biting her lip. She,for the first time in her life,was scared,which made Ramsay’s blood boil in anger. It was disgraceful. Her husband,upon seeing her,put his arms around her and started talking lewdly. His breathe was stinking and his grip was strong,leaving bruises on her pale skin.  Lord:It's finally time for the much awaited bedding ceremony,sweet wife.  S/O:It's finally time you chewed on a mint...  Lord:Insolent woman- 

Enraged by her words,he struck her,making her gasp,whimper unconsciously and stumble on her feet, which,once again,startled the young bastard. She never showed weakness. Not when they were training,when she fell off her horse, when she’d get injured, when she’d have a clumsy day,when she broke her arm,when she got bitten by their dogs,or when she got shot by an arrow. She was a true-born warrior and a healer,strength and dignity surging through her veins. And seeing his Queen being disrespected... Oh boy...there will be HELL to pay.

She was shocked but not surprised at his actions,but she couldn't say or act in her defense,so she grudgingly walked by his side,back to the feast,hiding her shame.  She and the lord sat at the long table,then her father raised his glass,and stated that the bedding ceremony shall begin.  The men attending the feast got up,ready to rip her clothes,when Ramsay's alluring voice boomed through the room. 

Ramsay:My lord,before it begins,my House has to present the gifts for the bride.  Lord:Yes,very well,but with haste.My sweet wife is eager to consumate our marriage.  S/O:*mutters*Bloody likely... 

 Smirking slightly at her comment,he motioned for her to approach him,and embracing her,he raised his arm up. To everyone's surprise,the Bolton allies started shooting arrows at the Lord's men and women,killing each and every one of them,with the exception of himself. He was to be Ramsay's play thing for a long time. 

Lord:Wh-What is the meaning of this?!You wish to start a war over a stupid woman?!  Ramsay:You should know by now that us,Boltons,always get what we want.  Lord:You are merely a bastard!  Ramsay:Not anymore.My father's request to the King has been accepted.  Lord:Why like this?Why keep me alive?!  Ramsay:I will show you what happens when you mess with us.We don't hold the Flayed Man symbol for no reason.Harming my woman,especially in front of me,was your worst mistake so far.  Lord:You can have any woman in the North!Why risk so much for no reason?  Ramsay:Why,S/O has been my vixen for years.You wouldn't understand.Take him!But make sure no harm comes to him.That's my job.   As he was being carried away,the girl,still stunned,embraced her saviour tightly,breathing  heavily and muttering her thanks. 

Ramsay:I told you,didn't I?Things always go my way.  S/O:That's the way of the Flayed Man. 

 -------

Being back home together after such a long time,the girl changed in her old comfortable clothes and layed on her old bed,trying to calm herself down and grasp the situation as it is.  She knew,by now,that Ramsay would be down in the dungeon,starting his fun,so she climbed down the stairs,and opened the door,peeking inside.  There,said man was verbally taunting the unfortunate lord,his psychotic side showing. 

S/O:I see you're having fun.  Ramsay:Aren't you?  S/O:I came here to enjoy the show.  Ramsay:Then sit back and enjoy.Might as well give suggestions or join in for yourself.  S/O:I just might.The dogs are getting hungry too...  Ramsay:We'll have to prepare for one entertaining hunt,then.  S/O:I'll make sure of that.  His twisted smirk was irresistible,his icy blue eyes,swimming with madness entranced her and his handsome visage drove her crazy and she couldn't help but cup his face and kiss him softly.In turn,he put one hand on her waist and one on the back if her head,pulling her closer,and deepening the kiss. 

S/O:*chuckles*Blood Bath Wedding,huh?Some might think you're just a little bit possessive.  Ramsay:*smirks*Nobody messes with the Boltons~.  S/O:After you flay him,we better hang him outside,to make a fine example of why they shouldn't.  Ramsay:And I'll make sure to find the best dress for my paramour.  S/O:I love you,Ramsay.  Ramsay:I love you too,vixen. 

[sage-nebula]

2, 3, 5 and 14 for pokemon asks!

2.) What in-game battle was the hardest?

Okay, so like everyone else who experienced the original Gen II games, I was also scarred by Whitney’s miltank as a child, because it was way worse in the original GSC than it was in the HGSS remakes. But that said, as much as I do love Whitney, she has been dethroned …

… by fucking Ghetsis and his HACKED AF HYDREIGON.

You have no idea, NO IDEA, how many tries it took me to beat that motherfucking, cheating-ass hydreigon. No idea!!! I actually had to leave the Castle to go train and then come back because that bastard dragon was too much of an issue. I imagine Ghestis and N just sitting there in awkward silence, waiting for me to return, all because Ghetsis’ hydreigon—which shouldn’t even be a hydreigon yet, mind you, that’s why I’m calling it hacked—is too much of a goddamn beast to die, and yet keeps wiping out my team without restraint. It kind of killed how epic the ending was a bit since I had to pause the ending to go train a bit more, but what can you do. 

Lusamine’s clefable was also a little bastard in her final battle in Gen VII, but that just dragged the battle out, I didn’t have to try it again. Ghetsis definitely takes the cake on this one.

3.) Is the idea of catching them all/completing your Pokedex overwhelming?

No, it just doesn’t feel worth it.

I completed the ‘dex back in Gen I, because I thought I was going to get Togepi or something if I did. In my defense, I was eight or nine years old, and the internet wasn’t as prolific yet. Rumors flew everywhere, and while I knew some of them were fake (no matter how hard we tried, we could not move that fucking truck), there were others I still believed, because I wanted to believe them. So I believed that if I completed my ‘dex with all 151 pokémon I would get a ticket to the Grandfather Canyon from the anime to get Togepi, or would just be given a Togepi, or whatever other prize, I didn’t know. I expected something significant nonetheless. So using my brother’s Game Boy and both my Red Version and my Blue Version (along with my brother’s Game Shark for Mew—look, we didn’t have a lot of options back then, my dad laughed in my face when I asked him if he would let me skip school and then drive me to California or New York to attend one of the Mew giveaway events), I completed my PokéDex and proudly took it to Game Freak in-game …

… only to be given a bloody certificate. 

I raged. I raged so hard. And I vowed on that day to never waste my time completing the ‘dex ever again. And to this day I haven’t. I kind of wanted to in AlphaSapphire since the ‘dex nav made capturing pokémon fun once more, but I still didn’t and, in all honesty, I’m just not motivated. I don’t shiny hunt, so the Shiny Charm is useless to me. It’s not proper motivation. Game Freak needs to give me a real reason to want to complete the ‘dex before I’ll do it again. I don’t know what that motivation is yet, but we’ll see. (Probably more story content, but who knows how they’d implement that.)

So yeah, it’s not overwhelming, it’s just not worth it. When Game Freak gives me a reason to care, I’ll do it again. Until then … nah.

5.) The biggest Pokemon-related disappointment

I love Pokémon to the point where I consider it a lifestyle choice rather than a fandom, but honestly, we could be here all day with all the times it has disappointed me. A brief list of examples:

The aforementioned certificate for ‘dex completion in Gen I;

Not giving the U.S. the GS Ball / Celebi event in Gen II (like, we had giveaway events for Celebi in Gen II like the Mew ones, but I don’t think they gave you the GS Ball to take to the shrine—but then again, I could be wrong, because once again they were only in California and New York and thus I, a ten-year-old, couldn’t go);

The U.S. PokéCenter only being in New York (though now it’s a Nintendo World building, rather than a PokéCenter);

The GS Ball not amounting to anything in the anime. Ditto for the Ho-Oh subplot from the OS, and basically all the other subplots the OS introduced and then promptly dropped and forgot about;

Pokémon Origins. Just, the whole thing. The art is ugly, Origins!Red is so incompetent it’s a wonder he knows how to breathe, and so on and so forth;

MOVIE 20. From not actually being a proper anniversary movie, to spitting all over Ash’s and Pikachu’s relationship while simultaneously claiming to champion it (“I wanted Ash to once again be a normal ten-year-old boy who casually says abusive stuff when losing a battle—” HE WOULD NEVER, AND ESPECIALLY NOT TO PIKACHU, HOW DARE YOU—), it’s basically the biggest disappointment to ever exist;

Alan’s trauma being COMPLETELY swept under the rug and forgotten about after XYZ044 (like, XYZ044 and everything that came before it was perfect, but after that? DISOWNED, not canon in my eyes, et cetera);

Gladion having barely any plot involvement in Sun/Moon, and not being included in the climax at all even though it’s his fucking family;

Lusamine’s severe child abuse being handwaved and excused because she’s a woman in both the games and the fandom. The worst abusers in my life have been women, and so the fact that everyone wants to handwave Lusamine’s abuse, give her a happy ending, et cetera really bothers me. The fact that Ghetsis doesn’t get nearly the same apologism (not that he should, he definitely SHOULD NOT) is what tells me that it’s an issue of sexism rather than just abuser apologism / villain apologism, and again, I’m bothered by it;

Ride Pokémon being introduced in Gen VII, but you can’t use your own pokémon, but instead have to use loaner pokémon that you call to you. I already have my own charizard and lapras, so the fact that I have to borrow some strange charizard and lapras to fly around is insulting to the ones I have on my team. Fuck you and your stupid laws, Alola.

I could probably go on, but this is a taster. Like, honestly, again, I love this series more than any other, it’s a lifestyle choice and not just a fandom—but that’s why I’m critical of it. I hold it to certain standards because I love it so much, and I’m not afraid to express when it upsets me. This is a small sampling of the times it has. Trust me, there are more.

14.) Your most and least favorite professors

As far as the games go, my favorite professor is hands down Professor Burnet. She not only has the most interesting field in all of the games (she specializes in multiverse theory, how cool is that?!), but I also love everything about her design. She’s gorgeous. The fact that she also didn’t have a bigger role in the plot, and that we instead had to put up with Kukui’s annoying ass for the entire game, is yet another complaint I have about the Gen VII games.

Least favorite in the games, meanwhile, is prooooobably Cedric Juniper, because I hate the way he overshadowed Professor Juniper all throughout the Gen V games. She is to date our only primary female professor, and yet they just had to say that she inherited her practice from her father. Not only that, but he had to keep showing up and explaining things in lieu of letting her do it, which isn’t something that any other professor had to experience. So while I don’t have anything against Cedric himself, as a character, I am still bitter about the way that Juniper was treated as a result of his inclusion.

As far as the anime goes, Professor Sycamore is obviously hands down my favorite, because he is the best dad, especially for Alan. ♥ Best dad in the best family, I love him.

And least favorite in the anime is … hmm, probably Professor Ivy. She seemed sort of spaced out and not with it the entire time, and plus there was whatever she did to Brock to traumatize him every time her name is brought up … I would assume she just rejected him, but then again, we’re never told, so … :/ Yeah, Professor Ivy is probably my least favorite in the anime thus far.

[docholligay]

Scavenging

Sponsored fic from @katrani who asked for “MInako taking a scavenger hunt too seriously” Thank you so much for all of your support! 

“Haruka, you’re a butch lesbian! Don’t tell me you don’t have a leatherman or some shit laying around in your pocket.” She tried to pry the license plate off the car.

“I’m pretty sure this is illegal.” Haruka crouched down next to Mina.

“Do you have one or not? Lives are on the line here!” She held her hand out expectantly.

If you would have asked Haruka, earlier that day, if she felt she was going to spend her evening stealing a license plate off a Honda with Mina in the graceful dim of twilight, she would have said no.

And then she would have reconsidered her friendship with Mina, and said maybe.

“Haruka!” Mina hissed “Any day now!”

Haruka dug down into her pocket and pulled out her knife, handing it to Mina. “We’re gonna get fucking arrested.”

Mina began to pry at the license plate, “I can live with that, but I can’t live with the idea of Rei winning this.”

It all seemed very reasonable until the blue and red began to flicker in the shiny white paint of the car’s bumper.

__________

It had all began long before evening fell.

It was Usagi’s birthday, and this year, like most years, she had a plan. Usagi didn’t work overly hard at planning things, mostly, but her birthday was always a special occasion, and she had plenty of food and cake for everyone, festooned with bright streamers and glittered hats barely dry from being finished the night before.

But this year, that was not all she had up her bright pink sleeve. She clapped her hands together excitedly, birthday tiara nearly falling off with the thrill of it.

“Everyone! I have a GAME for us to play!” She held a small sheaf of papers in her hand, “With a prize!”

The assembled group all looked at each other, wondering if the game or the prize seemed more terrifying--with Usagi, either could be true, but it was her birthday after all, and they all privately and personally resolved to be as good a sports as they could be.

“It’s a scavenger hunt!” She put the list of items in front of her, “I hid things for you to find! ANd that’s not all,”Usagi excitedly brought out a hat with slips of paper in it. “I’m going to draw your partners!!”

Everyone looked around the room with mild horror, sizing each other up. They worked together well, as one solid unit, but much like an erector set, sometimes the building got more difficult with only two poorly-matched parts.

“The first person is...Mako!” The named fell with delight off Usagi’s tongue, as if she had never encountered a more delightful arrangement of syllables. “And her partner is…” she rifled through the hat. “Rei! Oh Mako, you’re so lucky!”

Mako grinned, and reached out her hand for a fistbump with Rei, who returned it, grabbing the list of items from Usagi.

She nodded to Mako. “We’ll win this, absolutely,” she waved a hand dramatically, “No one else has a chance.”

Mina popped her gum and snorted, “Good luck on that. We all I know that I,” she pointed to herself, “am keen of mind, and nimble of foot, seductive of body, and graceful of..you know the rest, I don’t have to tell you poetry.”

“Ah yes,” MIchiru sighed, “A favorite of mine, the poet Vraiment des Conneries.”

Mina shot her a look. ‘I don’t love your tone, Squidward.”

Usagi drew out another name. “Michiru! Let’s see who you’re paired with,” she scowled as she mixed up the pieces of paper, and then drew one out.

Her eyes flicked to Minako, and suddenly Mina was filled with a dark panic. Her mouth moved to form the words, no, jesus no, please.

But on this day, fortune smiled up her, and Usagi’s voice rang out.

“Ami!”

Both Ami and Michiru looked at each other, their faces suggesting they might have drank a bit of soured milk in that exact simultaneous instant.

“You’re both so smart!” Usagi quickly shoved the list of items into their hands. “It’s almost like cheating!”

MIchiru crossed her arms and smiled. “I would be perfectly fine with a fairer pairing.”

“You know, Usagi, I’ve read so many articles that say a classic education is really a better indicator of wealth than intelligence.” Ami added.

“You’re ever so right, Ami, I find Haruka more intellectually stimulating than any number of people who pore over memorized formulae, and I think most would agree.”

Mina raised her hand. “I changed my mind, I do want to be on their team.”

Usagi shook her head. “Teams of two! I’m sure you and,” she opened the paper, “Haruka! Will do great.”

Haruka grinned. “We’re gonna kick ass.” She and Mina high-fived over the table.

“Team Blonde Ambition!” Mina snatched the list off the table before Usagi could grab it. “Easy. Got it, we’re golden.” She winked at Rei. “And if there’s a tie, we can have Mako and Haruka fight it out in the garage.”

Mako raised her chin to Haruka. “You feeling up to it?”

“When am I ever not?” Haruka stretched her back out. “If you’re in the mood to get beat.”

Mako laughed, “I think you’re getting slow in your old age.”

“Yeah, and that’s why you had to buy me a smoothie after.” She grinned.

“I was feeling charitable.”

“No! Don’t fight on my birthday!” Usagi’s lip wiggled.

Mina clapped her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, it’s just how they show affection. Like emotionally incompetent 12 year old boys.” She looked back at the list. “Piece of cake. Figurative, not literal. Surprised there’s not literal cake on here though.”

Rei tossed her hair. “You and Haruka are NOT going to win, Mina.”

Mina swanned over behind her and placed her head on Rei’s shoulder. “Soooo...care to place a bet on that, Reinaldo? If I win, you have to go on a date with me. DInner, dancing, the whole nine yards, and you have to pay, but I get to pick the restaurant.” She grinned playfully, at Rei, knowing that there was no bait that Rei could not rise to, when competition was on the line.

Rei scowled at her for a moment, but answered, “And what if I win?”

“Then you GET to go on a date with me, but I’ll let you pick the restaurant.” The smile never left her face, only growing more as a cheshire cat.

Rei stepped away from her and stood still, arms crossed, unimpressed for a few moments. Her eyebrow raised, and she turned back to MIna.

“If I win, you have to help clean up the shrine for a whole month.”

“Kind of serious for one night of a date, don’t you think, fireball?”

Well, if you don’t think you can win, which you can’t, then--”

“Okay okay okay.” Mina waved her hand, annoyed. “Deal.”

Rei reached out to shake her hand. “Deal.”

___________

And, as twilight became nighttime, Mina and Haruka found themselves warming a concrete bench behind bars.

The cell was not particularly warm or particularly clean, but the most vexing problem, to MIna’s mind, was that there was no way to win Rei’s date from inside it. Also perhaps the fact that Haruka seemed to be having a slowly advancing meltdown, not quite unlike a lava flow of lesbian frustration and disappointment.

“I know this looks bad, but think about what a great story this is gonna be later. We’ll laugh about this over beers all the time.” She kicked back and smiled, trying to seem casual.

“Michiru’s gonna kill me.” Haruka buried her face in her hands. “She’s always telling me not to get into trouble, and here I am, always in trouble, because it’s something in me, and--”

“Haruka,” she placed a hand on her shoulder, “I love you very much. I need you to can the lesbian self-hating melodrama for like….20 minutes. Your wife is not gonna divorce you for stealing a license plate.”

Haruka jerked upwards, staring at Mina. “She might! She sound so pissed on the phone!”

“Didn’t you throw up on her when you had your wisdom teeth out? I think you’re pretty stuck, bud.”

Haruka gave a groan and dramatically tossed herself backward on the bench, slamming her head into the cement wall.

“You gonna give yourself a concussion for the sympathy, or what?”

As if on cue, the clacking tap tap tap of a pair of heels echoed down the hallway, and Mina didn’t have to look up to see who it was, perfectly and neatly tailored, her face in a calm and flat disappointment.

Haruka threw herself to her feet, half stumbling toward Michiru, and pressed her face to the bars.

“I’m sorry, Michiru.”

“However much fun it might have been, it cannot possibly have been worth the hours you have spent in a cell. Let’s get you home, then, and clean you off.” She indicated to the police officer, who unlocked the cell and led Haruka out to the hallway by the arm.

“Are you mad?” Haruka looked at her cautiously.

“I wish you would think before you act. I wish you would think before Minako acts. But I love you, so very much, and we can always discuss this later, when you are less tired and tender.” She placed her hand on Haruka’s back and began to guide her away from the cell, when Haruka had a realization, and stopped.

“You can’t leave Mina in jail.” Haruka protested, holding on to the bar of the jail as if she might chain herself to it.

Michiru stared at her, annoyed, “You really are meaning to test the bounds of my good nature tonight, Haruka.” She turned to Mina. “I will thank you, in future, to avoid any activity which might see my wife arrested.”

Mina opened her mouth to snap back, and then the bars came into perfect focus in front of her. She huffed and nodded. “Okay, okay, noted.”

___

“Usagi said you went to jail??” Rei gestured wildly at nothing in particular.

“Technically,” She raised a finger in correction, “We were just held, we didn’t go to JAIL, because we know someone, I won’t say who, but her last name rhymes with why-oh. Speaking of, how did she and Ami do? Intellectual curiosity.”

“They split up and went to sit at separate cafes for three hours.” She shook her head, not willing to get turned off topic, “You stole a license plate.” Rei looked at her skeptically. “You stole a license plate to go on a date with me.”

Mina shrugged noncommittally. “I mean, I guess when you put it that way, it sounds a little desperate. So let’s put it another way. I stole a license plate to BEAT you.”

Rei gave a chuckle and an eyeroll. “Mina, you’re never going to make it happen. I have...duties, and a life, and I can’t just--”

“I’m not asking you to marry me, Rei, I’m asking you to go out to dinner.” Mina looked at her. “ Leave it to you to make it the most dramatic thing on earth, I just….I like being around you.”

It was a throwaway line. It was five simple, unpoetic words. It was nothing at all, and it was a moment of exquisite, beautiful vulnerability, and Rei found herself unable to answer for a moment. She wanted to return that, to tell she worried, she worried if she danced too close, they’d be bound together, like Haruka and Michiru, and she’d neglect her duty to Usagi, always watching for Mina in the corner of her eye, like they did, like Rei hated.

“We’re not the idiot lesbians, Rei.”

Rei twitched backward confusion. “How did you--”

“Oh, come on,” she rolled her eyes dramatically  ”you’re not that hard to read. Anyway,” she shrugged, “Where’s the broom, I’m thrilled to get to this shit. And then get back so I can be in trouble with another lesbian, it’s a great day to be Minako Aino.”

Rei took a breath and stood at the edge, never jumping, but just looking.

“Do you want some tea, first?”

[robinhood-with-a-pencil-blog]

The DUFF

Part One 

Dean x reader 

College AU

Summary: The reader and Dean are neighbors in college. The reader learns about the knew social status called the DUFF. The reader is desperate a looks for help.  Dean helps her reinvent herself while she tutors Dean. But she didn’t expect to fall for him. 

A/N: This is my first Dean x reader so any fed back would be very helpful! Thank you!

You could never have figured out where it all went wrong when everything in your life collapsed on itself. How could everything go so wrong in so little time?  It must have been the day when you thought it would be a fantastic idea to go to a fraternity party the night before an important exam. How could you have been so stupid? But no, it wasn’t the fact that it was a school night or the fact that you had the late shift the next night at the bar. No, it was the unbelievable idea that you thought you could go one night without embarrassing yourself, or for that matter, able to be normal for one night.

               It was one of those days where all you could do was think about getting out of class. The professor would just not stop talking! The ancient man dragged out all of his words in such a slow manner that you thought time might have stopped. It was Thursday and you needed lunch, desperately. But no, the professor just had to repeat everything you needed to prepare for tomorrow’s exam.

              You sat in the half-filled auditorium, looking at the big screen. Tapping your pen on your desk you look at the time on your computer. Two minutes left till the long awaited freedom. It wasn’t that you didn’t like your class, it was your favorite in fact and you were the top of your class, but you just couldn’t find the energy to care. It was a long and vigorous shift last night so you were already tired and irritable. Luckily you had tonight off.

              After packing up your items and slipping your leather bag over your shoulder, you walked outside, the sun blinding you for a moment.

“Y/N!” you heard your name called out from your right side. Turning towards the sound, you squinted your eyes looking for the person who called out. Sitting on the cement wall waiting for you were your two best friends, Lizzy and Jenna. The two girls were both taller than you, so naturally, when they both got up, you tilted your head slightly.

“Ready for some lunch?” Lizzy asked. Looking at your friend you took in what she decided to wear today, ripped jeans, a white lace camisole, with brown boots. Her blonde hair was curled and almost everything about her looked flawless. You had to give her credit, the girl knew fashion and one day hoped to be an aspiring fashion designer.

“Yeah I was thinking about Polly’s; does that sound good?” commented Jenna, and you glanced over at her. Her shiny black hair was put up in a ponytail and her tan was looking great. Jenna was the jock of your group, captain of your college’s soccer team and coach of a young girls’ team as a job. Today she was in jeans with Nike’s and a white t-shirt.

“Sounds perfect!” you responded. You looked down at your red and black flannel with jeans and sneakers and thought it would be good enough.

Walking into the small café, you instantly smelled the coffee and smell of dusty old wood. You each took a seat at a table next to a window. When the waiter came he said hello to the two other girls by name, he must be new, you thought because you’ve been a regular at Polly’s for two years now, how could he not know you? You each ordered a sandwich and coffee then began light chatting.

“Uh-oh, don’t look now but it’s Amy Roberts.” Jenna quickly whispered then sipping her coffee as if trying to hide her face.

Ugh, Amy Roberts, the rich snobby red head, who only attends the university because her father is a big contributor to the school. You weren’t even sure what she was studying.

She sashayed right over to your table and you immediately felt everything you just ate rise in your stomach.

“Hello ladies, I just wanted to give you these invitations for my party tonight, it’s at my fraternity house, hope to see you there.” She set the two envelopes on the table. To say you were shocked was an understatement.

“Why are you inviting us?” you asked curiously.

Amy then laughed as if you had said was a joke. “I’m not inviting you silly, I’m inviting Lizzy and Jenna. I would invite you, but I only have so many invitations, sorry maybe next time.” She faked a sad frown. That’s it, you thought, today is the day, I swear I will rip those fake eyelashes off so hard you won’t be able to see two feet in front of yourself! But as it turns out, Jenna beat you to it.

“Well, here we can fix that.” She took her invitation and tore it in half. Jenna turned to you and gave you the other half with a smile. It made you happy to know she had your back, as fearless as ever.

Amy faked a smile, “Great! Can’t wait to see you there Y/N, but wear something nice.” She had the nerve to look you up and down as if you weren’t even worthy to look at. “See you later.” And she sashayed back out of the café, to join her little group of followers.

“That girl makes me want to scream.” You sighed in frustration and the girls giggled at you.

“I just feel really bad for Dean,” Lizzy said. Right, Dean Winchester, Amy’s ex-boyfriend, but then again he could be her boyfriend. They were the type of couple that would be on and off again constantly, like strobe lights. He was the quarterback for your school’s football team, the school neanderthal, your childhood neighbor, and unfortunately, your current neighbor.  You both lived in a three-story building, your apartments on the top floor, right next to each other. You could hear him partying every other night while you were up late trying to study.

“Well, he got himself into that mess.” You said, believing every word of it. You just didn’t go for guys like that. The ones who think they own the world because they’re strong and find that everything comes easily to them. You were into the ones who actually had the intellect and could hold a conversation without the words “nice ass” or “workout”. Someone like the guy sitting on the other side of the restaurant. The light brown hair, hazel eyed angel. His name is Gabriel, but everyone calls him Gabe. He is in your communications class and he plays guitar, but you never actually spoke to him.

“Y/N…Y/N!” you snap out of your daydreaming to turn your eyes back to your friends.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You quickly tried to cover up you’re unbearably awkward staring.

“Aww, Jenna, Y/N was making love eyes to Gabe, how cute.” Lizzy teased.

“I wasn’t making ‘love eyes’,” You retorted with air quotes, “I was just simply gazing with interest.”

“Yeah, well I heard from Chuck that Gabe was going to be there tonight at Amy’s party,” Jenna informed while poking you.

“Really?” You couldn’t help but hope.

“Uh-huh, so let’s go back to your place and pick out an outfit for you.”

“Isn’t what I’m wearing fine?” you said. You felt really comfortable and didn’t feel like changing.

“Yeah if we were going hunting!” Lizzy exaggerated.

“Fine let’s just get this done.” You rolled your eyes, not feeling like dressing up or being in a large crowd. But to be able to have the chance to talk to Gabe was too great to pass up.

   Four hours later you three are standing on the doorstep of a large and beautiful house.

“Y/N, are you sure want to go in like that, just please take my extra shirt.” Lizzy pointed to her purse with the tight-fit strapless shirt. “No way, this is my lucky party shirt!” you said. You were in a black skirt with a red Led Zeppelin t-shirt and black combat boots.

She just smiled and rolled her eyes as she and Jenna walked inside the house. As you walked in, you had to look out for the drunk people who almost spilled their drinks all over you. The house crowded with people everywhere, half of them you’ve never even seen before and some you were sure weren’t even students. It was loud with music booming and people cheering over drink games.

The girls lead you to the backyard next to the pool, where there was just a little bit more space. The air was hot and sticky and all you wanted was to be home with a good book and your bed. You casually looked around, hoping to catch a glance at Gabe, but no luck. When you turned back around, the girls were dancing.

“Come dance with us!” Lizzy exclaimed.

“No, no I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You said, feeling awkward just standing there, but knowing you’ll look awkward if you tried to dance.

“Pleasssssse!” they pleaded. “I think I’ll just go get something to drink.” You said, but it didn’t matter because they were already busy dancing again. You just smiled to yourself, glad that at least they were having fun.

As you walked inside you saw Kevin, one of the smarter but more popular people of your school, who was also not that bad looking either.

“Hey… what’s your name again?” he asked you, clearly buzzed.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, “Y/N, Kevin we have English together.” you stated.

“Right, Y/N, have you seen Lizzy and Jenna? Did they come with you?” you could smell the beer on his breath.

“Uh, yeah. They’re right out back.”

“Thanks.” He said as he drunkenly stumbles away.

Wanting to take a load off, you walked over to the table with drinks. While pouring your drink you heard a laugh somewhere near you. You turned to your right to see that the laugh belonged to none other than Dean Winchester.

“Y/N! What the on earth are you doing here, at a frat party, on a school night!” he said with a surprised look. You saw he was wearing a tight black t-shirt with jeans.

“Shut up Winchester, you make me sound like a prudent old lady. For your information, I will go to my occasional party.” He chuckled.

“Yeah well I can sometimes hear your party right next door, I’m guessing your bedroom,” he wiggled his eyes, “you know, thin walls and all.” You gasped at him and lightly punched his shoulder.  

“Relax Y/N, I’m just kidding. So where are your girls, Jenna and Lizzy?”

“How should I know Dean, I’m not their secretary.”

“Well you, should, as you know, their DUFF,” Dean said as if it was obvious.

“As their what?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Their DUFF. Designated, Ugly, Fat, Friend.”

“What did you just say to me?” you couldn’t believe this, you were about to slap the man.

“You know, you’re the person everyone goes to when they want to be with Lizzy or Jenna. Every group of friends has them. The approachable one. The person who is less good looking than the rest of them.” He gestured his arms towards you. But you just blinked at him, not understanding and a little bit ticked off.

“Okay, for example, see that guy over there, the freshmen, he’s new to our football team. Well, Paige, the hot senior, is talking to him, to gain info about me. Probably to see if I’m single.” He pointed to where the pair were standing on the white staircase.

You looked over to see a tall gangly looking boy who was clearly nervous around the good looking girl who was sort of paying attention to him. You saw her whisper something to him, then they both glanced at Dean. Paige gave him a kiss on the cheek and then turned on her heels to leave him. As she walked past you two she gave a little flirtatious wave to Dean. You saw he gave her a charming smile and wink and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

He turned back to you and said, “See what I mean.” Taking this in, you looked around to find more and more of these situations going on.

“Okay Y/N, about how many times a day do people ask you about Jenna or Lizzy?”

You thought for a moment, “A fair amount, but so what I’m their- “he cut you off.

“Now how many people ask you about you?” You couldn’t answer, and that really hurt. Hearing all of this made you sick. So many thoughts were flying through your head and you couldn’t take it. The crowd, the noise, the heat, and new information was just all too much.

“See Y/N, this was a good talk.” And this douchebag was too much, “I feel like-” But he didn’t get to finish his sentence because you through your beer all over him. Too angry to think you stormed out of the house, almost pushing someone over in the process. Lizzy drove you and there was no way you were going to go back in there. You had no cash on you so you couldn’t get a taxi. Sighing, you picked up your feet and began walking home.

You replayed the last ten minutes in your head, getting angrier just thinking about it. But you couldn’t help to reflect on your past relationship with your two friends. Yeah sure, they were taller, a little bit more fit, and beautiful, while you were smaller and more petite, but you weren’t fat or ugly by no means. The nerve of some people! But then you remembered how when the waiter said hello to Jenna and Lizzy, Amy gave invitations to only them, and Kevin asked where they were. And that was only today!

You just looked up at the open night sky and screamed an angry cry. People were assholes and you weren’t going to let it get to you.

  And you didn’t, until the next day. When you woke up it was your first thought and it pissed you off. “Ah, fuck it.” You said, giving up on how looked. You rolled out of bed and kept on your gray t-shirt and green and gray plaid pajama pants. Your hair was in a messy bun you noticed but just shrugged your shoulders. You applied deodorant, brushed your teeth, slipped on your sneakers, grabbed your bag, and headed for your day of classes.  

When you got to your psychology class you were used to the uncomfortable feeling of eyes on you. You had been through three classes of this and library full of students. You took your seat towards the back of the auditorium.

“Hey Duffy, need help studying? And nice PJ’s.” Oh great, it was Dean, just the idiot you didn’t want to see.

“No. Go away.”

“Ouch, why so grumpy, you shouldn’t be mad at me, I should be mad at you, you ruined my favorite shirt.” You gave him a death glare.

“Dean,” you started turning towards his desk next to yours, “you called me fat and ugly. Of course, I’m mad at you!”

“What… no, I didn’t. I called you the DUFF.”

“Yeah well excuse me that it stands for designated ugly fat friend!”

“Yes, but the DUFF doesn’t actually have to be fat or ugly. Tony Romo is a Dallas Cowboy, doesn’t mean he has to ride a horse.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” You said, annoyed to the point of punching him.

“That’s not the point, the point is I would never call you, or anyone for that matter fat or ugly. It’s just the word and it stuck.”

“Oh my god, get out of here before I murder you.” You replied fed up. He got up and walked away but then came back a second later.

“You’re not really going to murder me are you?” he asked. You replied with what you felt was a murderous stare. “Okay, you really are.” Then he walked away for good.

 When you walked out of the of your seminar, you overheard Dean talking to your professor.

“Mr. Winchester I’m sorry but you can’t keep playing with these grades. Another F is not acceptable. You will be suspended from the football team.” Dean looked crushed and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Please Professor, is there anything I can do?” he asked with desperation in his voice.

“Once you bring your grade up to a B, you can play at games, until then only one practice a week.”

Before either of them could notice you, you quickly walked out of the classroom. While walking on the sidewalk an idea popped into your head and it involved the one and only Dean Winchester. Seems as you can’t get rid of him yet.

  “Y/N? Are you okay?” You looked up from your book you were reading in the library. You saw Lizzy and Jenna walking towards you. It was the first time you had seen both of them, as you were trying to avoid both them. It just didn’t feel right being with them.

“I’m fine.” You said a little too sharply. “How was the party?”

“Oh, it was great! Someone jumped off the roof and into the pool and then the cops showed up! Where were you, when did you leave?” Jenna spoke quickly.

“I- uh wasn’t feeling well. So I just walked home, I didn’t want to make you guys leave.” You said, avoiding their eyes.  

“Y/N are you sure you’re okay?” Lizzy continued to push, worry coming across her face.

“I said I was fine!” you snapped surprising the girls and even yourself.

“Y/N what’s going on, come on, talk to us.” Jenna pleaded.

“Just let it go, my goodness!” you grabbed your books and bag and rushed out of the library. You were boiling, this whole DUFF thing was really getting to you. It wasn’t your friends' fault; you just couldn’t help to take it out on them.

 Two hours later and you couldn’t believe who you were standing next to.

“So you want me to de-DUFF you? Make you more attractable? Why me?” Dean raised his eyebrows questioning you.

“Because you were the only asshole to tell me about the whole DUFF thing. You’re an asshole, but an honest asshole. I need that. So will you teach me how to be more, uh likable.” You gave him puppy eyes. “You see I like this guy, Gabriel, and I want him to notice me.” Dean looked down at you as he caught a football. He was sweating and you could see his bright green eyes with the sun shining on them.

“And what’s in it for me?” He asked.

“I heard you were failing psychology. Dean that’s my best class! I could tutor you and give you my notes. With my help, you’ll get a B in no time and you’ll be right back on the field playing football.” You gave him a grin hoping he will agree.

“You make it sound so easy. For you yeah it might be easy to teach me, you’re a genius. But I have real work to do with you.” He through the football back, his biceps flexing in the process. You punched him in the arm knowing that he was only joking.

“Not funny Winchester.”

“What, I thought it was.” He winked at you. “Fine, I’ll do it!”

“Great!” you felt a wave of relief, you really didn’t know if your plan would work.

“But,” and you felt your stomach drop. “You have to give me a hug.” “Right now?” you asked hoping to God that he didn’t mean it.

“Oh yeah, while I’m nice a sweaty.” The blond man grinned at you. “Do for old time’s sake Y/N.”

“No way Dean!”

“Fine then you can kiss Gabriel goodbye, but oh wait, you wouldn’t kiss h-”

“Okay, I’ll hug you! Gosh, you’re so immature Winchester you know?” you ridiculed.

“Ah but you love me Y/N. Now come here!” He wrapped his arms around you.

“Ew, you smell Dean!” But he just laughed at you, and eventually you joined him.

“Just like in the backyard, remember?” he asked.

“Yeah, whatever.” You responded. You peeled yourself away from his wide frame.

“Okay so let’s wake up around nine, have breakfast and go to the mall together. It will be our first lesson.” Dean suggested.

“Sounds good. See then neighbor.” You waved to him.

“Alright awesome.” He grinned back.

This was a terrible idea you thought to yourself as you walked off of campus. But maybe Dean can get you Gabe, and who knows? It might even be kind of fun, right?

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

Regenerate Nine Day: The Unforgiven

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 13/?.

Pairings: Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler.

Synopsis: "There were a lot of legends about that forest, and one of them was saying that it was inhabited by a wolf whose fur was as dark as a night without stars, whose eyes were as blue as the clearest sky. That wolf was the keeper of the forest and was keeping everyone out of it. Its howl to the moon was as beautiful as sorrowful when it resounded in the silence of the night."

A/N: Today is Regenerate Nine Day (9/9) and so I've decided to repost all the one-shots I've written about the Ninth Doctor, whether they are DW verse or not to celebrate this fantastic Doctor. The first shot to be post is a rewriting of Journey's end.

“A hero is somebody who is selfless, who is generous in spirit, who just tries to give back as much as possible and help people. A hero to me is someone who saves people and who really cares.” - Debi Mazar.

THE UNFORGIVEN:

Once upon a time, there was a young woman whose name was Rose Tyler. She was small, but she was strong. She was clever, and she was the nicest person on Earth. She was a volunteer in a lot of charity organisations to help the most penniless people around. She was living in a small village, close to a huge forest, and she was the most beautiful woman on Earth. Her mother was crazy about her, and all the boys wanted her to take them as her boyfriend. Whenever she was asked by a suitor, she just smiled and went on her way. She didn’t feel ready to have a boyfriend, and even if she was flattered with those demands and compliments, she refused to be anything more than just a friend to them. One of them, a guy she had known since forever called Mickey Smith, offered her a wonderful red hood she was wearing all the time when she had to go out. She was given the name of Little Red Riding Hood. One day, her mother did some cooking for the penniless people Rose was taking care of and put it into plastic boxes. Rose was in charge of bringing them to another village while it was still pretty hot, but the shortest way to reach that village was to cross the forest. There were a lot of legends about that forest, and one of them was saying that it was inhabited by a wolf whose fur was as dark as a night without stars, whose eyes were as blue as the clearest sky. That wolf was the keeper of the forest and was keeping everyone out of it. Its howl to the moon was as beautiful as sorrowful when it resounded in the silence of the night. Some people were saying that this wolf used to be a human being centuries ago who had been cursed after he committed the worst crime a human could commit: the murder of another human being. Rose didn’t believe any of those stories so she wasn’t scared at the idea of crossing the forest. She put all the boxes in her backpack, put her red hood on and kissed her mother goodbye after she told her to be careful. Rose simply smiled, promised to be careful in the forest and left the small flat. She quickly walked to the forest and walked through it quietly. She wandered through the woods, following the ground trail. The forest was quiet and beautiful with its flowers and vegetation and huge trees. There was something magical in the air, and the birds were singing a nice song. However, the more she was sinking into the forest, the more silent it became. The birds were stopping their sing and it was darker as if the light of the sun couldn’t get through the thick foliage of the trees. Rose kept walking, maybe a bit quicker than earlier. The atmosphere was becoming oppressive. Rose didn’t notice it at first. She was following the ground trail, softly humming to herself, reading the directions on the signs. She frowned when there was no sign anymore. It meant that she was lost in the middle of that forest. She kept following the trail. There wasn’t any fork or crossroad so it was easy but if she met one, she wouldn’t know what direction she should take. It wasn’t really important at the moment. She heard a crack and turned around. That’s when she noticed that the forest was very silent, abnormally silent, and that she was alone. There was no one around. Her heart started racing, thinking that the legends might be true in the end. Maybe there was a wolf somewhere, and that wolf was maybe looking at her right now. Maybe was he waiting for the good moment to jump out of his hidden spot and eat her up. That silence and the fact that Rose felt like she was observed started making her feel uncomfortable. She walked faster, almost running to get out of that forest quickly, but she tripped over a rock and fell to the ground. She scratched her hands in the fall. She shook her head lightly to get rid of the dizziness of the fall and sat up. She froze when she heard a growl, and when she looked up, she found herself facing the wolf of the legend. It was as beautiful as the legend was saying, but they were quite far from the truth. No word could describe the beauty of this wild creature. Rose was fascinated by its fur that seemed as silky as shiny. Its eyes were indeed the blue of the clearest sky and sparks of gold were shining into them. It was huge for a wolf, almost as big as she was tall, and its slimy chops were very, very close of her face. She could even see its nose moving lightly as it smelled her. Rose reacted pretty quickly. She jumped on her feet and started running the other way. She didn’t dare looking if it was chasing her and just ran as fast as she could. She didn’t look where she was going. She was just focused on the fact that she had to run away as fast as she could before the wolf could lay paws on her. She realised too late that was running on a hill. She lost her balance on the top of it and fell on its other side. She rolled down the hill, getting cut by rocks, scratched by branches, and ended up in a small basin. She was covered in fallen leaves and the fall had left her even more dizzy. Her heart was beating so fast it was being painful, and she was out of breath because of the running and fall. She had to get up and keep running. She had to get out of that forest quickly, but she couldn’t move and her eyelids were so heavy… She fainted knowing that if the wolf found her, it would be her end.

×

“Miss? Miss, do you hear me?” Rose slowly opened her eyes when she heard someone calling for her, when she felt someone shaking her lightly. It took her a few seconds to remember what had happened. The walk through the woods, the wolf, the fall. She sat up immediately, suddenly aware of where she was, and looked around. No wolf. Just a man. A hunter according to the clothes he was wearing and the gun in his back. She hadn’t been unconscious for too long. It was still the day. Probably just a few minutes. “The wolf…” she mumbled. “I didn’t see any wolf, miss.” She was surprised that the wolf hadn’t followed her when she ran away. Maybe it had sensed that she was just afraid. Maybe he had decided to spare her. It had a look of cleverness when she was facing it, and the legends were saying it had been human before. They were right on the wolf part, it was real; so why couldn’t they be right on the fact it had been a human once? And maybe that was it had spared her. “I saw you running and then, you rolled down that hill. I came to help you.” “Thanks.” “What are you doing here all alone, miss? If you don’t mind me asking.” “I was walking to the village after the forest. I’m a volunteer. I’m bringing free meals to the penniless.” She grabbed her backpack and opened it. She almost sighed in relief when she saw that all the boxes were still hermetically closed. None of them had been opened in her fall. The food was a bit shaken but it was still good. She zipped it back and got up. “I have a car. It’s not far. I’m gonna drive you. It’s wiser.” Rose nodded. She dusted her clothes and followed the hunter. He helped her to climb the hill. It was surprisingly high and it was unbelievable that she hadn’t broken some bones in her fall. She would just have a few bruises in addition to the cuts. “I’m Rose. Rose Tyler.” “Henry. Henry Van Statten. I’m hunting in this forest. There usually isn’t anyone in that part.” “What are you hunting in that forest, Mr Van Statten?” “Rabbits, guinea fowls, game. I sell them on the marketplace of the village you’re going to. Local products.” “You’ve never met a wolf while you were hunting?” “You’re talking a lot about that wolf, miss.” “It was quite impressive.” “The wolf of the legends?” “Itself.” “I’ve been hunting it for years but I never saw him. It’s a chance you’re still alive. Lots of people can’t say the same.” “Maybe.” That adventure was still intriguing her and she wondered why the wolf hadn’t chased her down in the forest. Why had he spared her when people were saying he slaughtered hundreds before? Did she have anything special that made it decide to leave her alive? “Stop.” Rose came out of her thoughts when Henry told her to stop. She noticed that he was tensed and that he had his gun in his hands. Something had drawn his attention and it wasn’t some small game. It was something bigger, something more dangerous. “It looks like today’s the day I’ll meet the wolf.” There was a hint of excitement and of something else in his voice. Rose couldn’t tell what it was, but she felt a shiver running down her spine at the sound of it, and the look Henry gave her didn’t help her to relax. The wolf was still around. Maybe it was looking for her, ignoring what was gonna happen to him if it ever got closer. Henry pushed Rose against a tree and hid behind it with her. “It’s prowling,” murmured Van Statten. “I can hear it. It’s looking for something. We gotta be really careful from now on.” They didn’t move from their hidden spot for a few minutes. Rose had the feeling that the only thing breaking the silence was her breath and the sound of her heartbeats as they were faster because of the fear. She now could hear the wolf too. It was close. She could hear its paws on the ground, its groans. Henry took up a position and looked through the gun sights, looking for the wolf. Rose looked over his shoulder. They stayed still for a moment before the wolf finally came in sight. Henry stroked the trigger, ready to fire soon as he would have a good angle. “What are you doing?” Rose asked, whispering so low she was afraid he hadn’t heard her. “Shooting it. That beast is responsible for multiple slaughters. It can’t be left alive.” Rose knew he was right. She knew that dangerous animals were always killed, but she didn’t agree with it. That wolf had something special she could feel it. Deep down, she knew that she couldn’t let Van Statten kill the wolf. She had to prevent him from firing. “There. Just a little bit farther on the right.” He was focused. His finger was about to press the trigger when he finally got the angle but when he did, Rose managed to divert the gun. Van Statten cursed, but there was a distinct whimper of pain. The wolf had been touched. Bullet injury to the left thigh. “What the hell are you doing?!” “You can’t kill it!” “It’s a beast!” “It didn’t kill me!” The wolf was trying to get up but kept slumping back on the ground with whimpers of pain that were breaking Rose’s heart. She came out of her hiding place and walked quickly to the wolf despite what Van Statten was telling her. She knelt down close to the huge beast and put a trembling hand on his fur. The wolf weakly growled at her but she didn’t step back. It slumped back to the ground and Rose looked at its wound. It was ugly, and really painful because the wolf was still whimpering. Rose gently stroked its fur. “Shh. It was just an accident. We’re gonna help you. I promise.” The wolf only cried because of the pain and Rose felt a strange buzzing in her head. She shook her head lightly to make it disappear. She looked at Van Statten who hadn’t moved from his spot. He was watching her as she was talking to the wolf. He was pretty amazed that it hadn’t tried to attack her, that it was actually so calm. “Come and help! It’s not gonna hurt you!” ‘He’s been hunting me for years. He wants my death.’ The voice came out of nowhere and Rose looked around, unsure of who was talking. It wasn’t Van Statten. That wasn’t his voice. Plus, he was walking towards her, pretty much angry about what she had done to his target, a target she now wanted to save. She looked back at the wolf. Her hand was still on its back. Its fur was really soft. “Is that you?” ‘Maybe it’s time for me to die after all.’ “No. No, of course not. You’re not gonna die.” ‘You hear me?’ The wolf raised its head to look at Rose. Surprise was whirling into its eyes. That was the first time in centuries that someone ever heard him, that someone ever showed him gentleness. That girl was special. She had been scared earlier, and yet, there she was. “Yeah, I do hear you, and it’s okay. You’ll be just fine.” “It should be dead.” “But it won’t die because we will help it.” “Why would I help a beast?” “Because it’s a human in the first place!” “That legend is bullshit.” Van Statten gave a small kick into the bleeding injured leg of the wolf muttering that they should let it die and a loud whimper of pain escaped from the wolf’s mouth. Rose felt the pain as if it was hers, and winced slightly. It was as if the wolf was connected to her mind so she could hear its thoughts and feel its pain. She looked back at Van Statten. “It’s in pain, Henry. I can feel it. It just wants to live its life peacefully.” “How can you know that?” “It’s talking to me.” “It’s talking to you?” “Yes.” Rose looked back at the wolf, lightly stroking its fur to help him to relax while she was arguing with Henry Van Statten. She didn’t notice the spark that suddenly appeared in his eyes, spark that made him change his mind. He picked up the wolf the best he could, ignoring his whimpers of pain and its weak attempts to get away from that dangerous man. “My pick-up isn’t very far anymore now. Come on. There’s a shelter for wild animals. Let’s drive it there. They will help him.” “Thank you.” Now that Rose wasn’t touching it anymore, the connection between her and the wolf was broken. She followed Van Statten to his pick-up and got into it while he was dropping the wolf off on the back of the car. He then drove to the refuge and the wolf was taken in charge there – according to Van Statten words at least. He took Rose to the village she needed to go to and went back to his business. Rose walked to the area where the penniless people were all gathered. Most of the charity organisations were already there. She gave the boxes full of food to the person responsible of the food stand and accepted to stay and help for the food distribution. Her mind was elsewhere though. She kept thinking about the wolf, about that strange connection they had both shared for a few minutes, and how it had been able to communicate with her. She remembered Van Statten’s will of killing it, and wondered if it had been a good idea to leave the wolf alone with such a threat. He had seemed pretty eager to help the wolf after she had told him that it could talk. The thought tormented her all day and she decided to go back to the shelter and make sure the wolf was fine. She needed to be sure of it before going back home. As soon as she was free from her duty, she refused people’s help to go back home, people saying it would be dangerous to cross the woods while it was getting late and dark, and just rushed to the forest to find the shelter again. She realised that it was just a small wooden house that was half falling down. It was really dark and there was no one around. She decided to come in. She called out for someone but no one answered, and there wasn’t any electricity in that house. A trap. That’s all it had been. Henry Van Statten had just made her believe that he was dropping the wolf to a shelter when he was abandoning him in such a dilapidated place. She cursed and used the light of her phone to see something. No one could live in there. It was impossible, but she had the feeling that the wolf was there. She looked around and finally found a hatchway in the ground. She looked around her and listened closely. Nothing and no one around. She lifted up the hatchway. No sound came from the basement and it was very dark. Not even the smallest ray of light. Maybe she could just go down and see if the wolf was there. She couldn’t go back before she knew if it was safe and fine. “Are you in there?” Her voice was barely a whisper but wolves had a really good hearing so it wouldn’t have any difficulties to hear her if it was there. She waited for a possible answer. Maybe it was sleeping, or knocked out? Or maybe it wasn’t there? Maybe it was dead? She refused that option though. She refused to think that the beautiful wolf could be dead. A small whimper came to her ears. Hope immediately filled her mind and she started going down the ladder, using the light of her phone to know where she was going. She closed the hatchway behind her so no one would get suspicions that she was in there. She followed the whimpers – the wolf obviously had recognised her and was calling her – and finally managed to reach a small and very cold room. She shivered when she came in. She found some candles and matches and lighted them up. The room soon was enlightened with a soft orangey glow and Rose could see that she was into some sort of bare cell. Walls and ground were made of brutalism, and it was so cold here. Rose turned around and her heart broke when she saw the wolf laying on the ground, heavily enchained. His leg had been taken care of, it was wrapped into a bloody bandage. The wolf didn’t move when she sat down close to him and placed her hand over its side. She felt the buzzing in her head again, and a feeling of safety and relief filled her mind. They weren’t her feelings, they were the wolf’s ones and she was surprised of its reaction to her. At least, it wasn’t gonna be aggressive. It relaxed to her small strokes and closed its eyes. It was exhausted and in pain, but it felt better now that she was here. It knew that Rose wouldn’t hurt him, that he could get some rest while she was here. “Can you hear me?” ‘Yes.’ “So, the legends were true?” ‘All legends have some truth in it.’ “You were human?” ‘I still am. I’ve just been cursed.’ “When was it?” ‘I can’t remember exactly. There was a war. My only fault was to take up arms and to lead the opposition and protect my family from the enemies. It was us or them. I decided to go against them. I won, but I had to kill a lot of people to keep my family and my entire village safe.’ There was remorse and pain in its words. Rose was listening quietly to his story. His accent and his way of talking were telling her that it hadn’t been a war of this century, and there had been too many wars in the History for her to guess which one it was. ‘When I came home, my family barely recognised me because I was covered with the blood of our enemies, and they said I now had the look of a killer. They’ve rejected me, thrown me out of the house. The inhabitants of the village chased me down with torches and forks. I had to hide in the forest.’ He swallowed. ‘A witch found me, and when I told her my story, she said that I was unforgivable. She turned me into a wolf and told me that people would see me my true nature this way. She added that I would forever feel the thirst of blood, feel the need of slaughtering people, and that no one would ever love the monster I was.’ “But that’s unfair. You just wanted to protect your family. You were the bravest man of the whole lot.” ‘That’s not what they thought back then.’ “The legend said you were the unforgiven. Forever stuck into a wolf’s body for your crime.” ‘I was condemned to a life of solitude, to always remember what I’ve done, to always feel the guilt and pain. I was condemned to be hunted by men just like I’ve hunted them before. And no one ever showed me mercy.’ “They said you slaughtered hundreds of lives… But you’ve spared mine.” ‘I never attacked anyone. Never. Not once since I’m in that body.’ “The real monsters are not always the ones we think.” She could feel that it was weak and tired and yet, it stayed awake and kept talking to her. She didn’t know why it was telling her its story, why she felt so much trust coming from it. ‘I never meant to scare you earlier. I just wanted to make you go away before Van Statten found you. He’s a terrible guy. He locked me down here and took care of my leg. I don’t know what he’s going to do to me.’ “I have to get you out of here quickly, before he comes back.” ‘It’s already too late.’ Its enhanced hearing had heard the motor of the car. Van Statten was back, and he was gonna be there in a matter of minutes. He couldn’t find Rose. She had to hide. The wolf didn’t want her to get into troubles for trying to help him, but she was stubborn and refused to go. Whatever he had in mind, they would face it together. And she couldn’t run away, Van Statten was already in the basement. “I should have known you would come back for that beast.” “I wonder who’s the true beast in the story.” She didn’t move. Neither did the wolf. It was so heavily shackled that he wouldn’t have been able to move anyway. A heavy ring of metal was closed around its neck and its paws were all chained. It had no chance of going out of here. Van Statten had made sure of that. “I gotta thank you though. That beast kept running away from me for years. You came around, and I had the chance to finally capture it.” “What for? Now that you have him, what are you going to do with him?” “Nothing for now. I’m much more interested in your person.” He eyed her up. His gaze stopped a few times over the curves of her breasts and the curves of her bum. She could only imagine what he had in mind right now. The wolf growled and Van Statten just laughed. The beast was powerless against him. A spark of disgusting lust sparkled in his eyes and before anyone could make a move, he grabbed Rose and pinned her to the closest wall. He buried his face in her neck while his hands were firmly holding her against the wall. She struggled, making it difficult for him to do anything. The wolf kept growling at him. It refused to be a witness of such a scene. He wouldn’t let that monster hurt the girl with the red hood. It struggled against his own shackles and tried to forget the pain to get up. It took him several minutes before he could manage to get on its four legs. It was trembling, but it could do it, for the girl that showed him so much gentleness. Since it was bigger than a normal wolf, it could reach Van Statten more easily. It pulled on its chains the best he could and lunged forward. With a lot of efforts, he managed to bite Van Statten’s calf before he could do any harm to Rose. Van Statten screamed loudly and kicked the wolf who slumped back on the floor whimpering because of the pain. A discharge of a Taser gun shook its body and left him unable to move while its body was agitated with small convulsions. “Don’t touch him!” Rose took advantage of the distraction to punch him in the face and to kick his groin. Van Statten collapsed to the ground, knocked out, and Rose knelt back down close to the wolf. It didn’t seem alright. It would die if she left him here. She started looking for the keys of the chains in Van Statten’s pockets. The room was suddenly enlightened by a bright blue light who disappeared as fast as it appeared. Rose turned around to see from where it had come from and frowned. The wolf wasn’t there anymore. The silhouette of a tall and thin man had replaced it. He was hunched up in the ground, tangled in the chains that were still holding him. He was completely naked and Rose blushed at that sight. She turned her head away and kept looking for the key. She heard the man moving, trying to remember how a human body was working, and finally found the keys. She tried not to stare at his naked body but she couldn’t help but notice the goose bumps on his skin and how badly he was trembling. She couldn’t tell if it was just the cold, or the fear of being back to a human being in a century he didn’t know anything about. She got rid of all the chains and helped him to get up. The wound was still there, and it was bleeding but they had no time to take care of this now. They had to run away from here before Van Statten woke up. Rose grabbed the man’s hand and pulled him out of the room. After centuries in the body of a wolf, the man had a lot of difficulties to walk on his two legs, and the fact that one of them was wounded didn’t help, but he didn’t complain and followed Rose the best he could. Climbing the ladder was a real difficulty but he managed to reach the top of it. Only to collapse on the ground because of the pain. His first reaction was to curl up and try to get himself warm, which wasn’t easy now that he didn’t have fur anymore. It felt so weird to be back into a human body and he was having a lot of difficulties to get used to it again. Rose looked at him as he was shaking from the cold and the shock of the sudden change. She ran outside the small house and found what she was looking for: the pick-up. She opened the door and stole a blanket. She brought it back into the house and covered the man’s body with it for him to get warm quicker. She helped him to get up once again and helped him to walk to the car. She had stolen Van Statten’s keys. She made the man sit on the passenger seat and buckled him up. He curled up under the blanket and looked around him. He didn’t know what a car was or how it was working and got scared when she started the car. She put a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. It’s a modern means of transport. It’s quicker than horses, but it’s not dangerous. I swear. I’m driving you to my home. My mom and I are gonna take care of you.” She locked the doors though to be sure he wouldn’t have the idea of jumping outside the car while she was driving. She drove out of the forest, turning on the heat so he wouldn’t be so cold anymore. He remained curled up on the seat looking at all the strange things around him. “You saved me.” His voice was croaked, and the words were hard to pronounce. He hadn’t used his mouth in centuries. It was weird, really weird but he was too busy looking around him to get a proper look on his body. “I did.” “You broke the curse.” “I did nothing, really.” “You saw past my killer nature, and stood up for me. You broke the curse.” “Good thing I was there then.” “But I don’t belong this century. I-I don’t have anyone left. No family, no friends.” “Don’t worry. I won’t leave you alone in this. I’ll help you.” “Thanks.” Now, she just had to find a really good explanation to give her mother when she would be back home. She was late and she was with a totally naked guy that clearly wasn’t from the century. Well, Jackie wasn’t gonna care about the century because he was a naked man and because he was close to her only daughter. “You know the tale of the Little Red Riding Hood?” “My mom was telling it to me when I was younger. A friend of mine gave me the red hood and people started calling me that way.” She smiled at him. “It’s not a bad nickname.” “You are wiser than the original Little Red Riding Hood.” “Because I saved the wolf?” “You saw the real monster, and didn’t let him do any harm. Little Red Riding Hood got her grandmother to be eaten and she was eaten up too in the end.” “That’s not the end my mom was telling me.” “The real fairy tales aren’t for kids.” But he was right though. The original story, the one Charles Perrault had written in January 1697, ended in a tragic way and the moral of the story was that cute little girls always were eaten up by the wolf because they were getting fooled by its words. They didn’t see where the true danger was, but Rose hadn’t been one of those stupid little girls. She had seen the danger and come back to help the true victim of the story before it was too late. And the man who lived in the body of a wolf for centuries would never be able to thank her enough for breaking his curse.

Chronicles of a better man © | 2016 - 2018 | Tous droits réservés.

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In the next shot:

That was how she first had ended up into the TARDIS, how she had fought her first alien – the Nestene Consciousness right under the London Eye – and she had been surprised to realise that there was more to life than she could have ever imagined, and that was why she had accepted to follow him when he had asked her if she wanted to see all of time and space, if she wanted to travel with the weird man he was. She hadn’t hesitated in jumping into the adventurous life, and leaving the boring one behind her. The Doctor was a man really interesting – desperately trying to look impressive though – and she wanted to see the marvels of the universe he had been talking about to her with her own eyes. And she had seen more than she could ever tell. Their last adventure had almost ended in a bad way and she could see that the Doctor was still a bit shaken from his encounter with the not-anymore-survivor of the Dalek race.

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