#cats are truly an immovable object when they want to be

[pulse-oflife]

Prompt #8 // Shed

"How is it that one small cat can lose this much fur?" Keryn mused rhetorically as she brushed said small cat on her lap. Technically, this was Niefirst's cat, but the Au Ra was busy working on some armor in the basement, so her cat had chosen to come upstairs and sit in Keryn's lap instead. "I know it's spring, and you're working on losing the winter coat, but this seems a bit excessive." There was already a small pile of fur on the end table next to her - little mats of fur pulled from the very fine toothed comb she was using on the cat. "Though I suppose this is more convenient than trying to brush you when you're large."

Niefirst's cat was a sort of arcane familiar and was capable of being a small black house cat but also a very large couerl that could be used as a mount. The preference was generally for house cat, as that was easier by far to maintain. And since the cat was mostly arcane, it didn't set of Keryn's allergies the way a more normal cat would.

The cat opened a yellow eye and yawned, stretching out and turning around to settle back down and allow Keryn to brush the other side. Hopefully this wouldn't take too much longer, she had had plans for the day that didn't involve small black cats and grooming them.

[phlurrii]

I cannot sleep and I am curious about your take on this random conundrum I am faced with that I was wondering your take on because I love how you are able to depict dynamic movement and action in your art and animations.

So, I absolutely LOVE it when the typically cutesy being that is Mew is depicted as a feral godly beast and I am so utterly in love with Meau’s truly powerful design. An absolute apex predator. However, my brain is hung up on a frustrating detail. If they weren’t floating everywhere all the time how would they like… prowl? Or chase down something. They’ve got these nubby little arms and these looooong legs.

Like. I’m trying SO hard to imagine something that could anatomically work because as eery as floating can be there’s something satisfying about feeling in the weight of a creature through its gait. But all I can picture with their body shape is…hopping. Just a murderous psychic kangaroo cat god bounding towards something but like…It’s kind of silly? I’m sure irl that would probably be absolutely terrifying to see a kangaroo bouncing at you with malicious intent but… it’s hard to picture it as an intimidating movement.

The slow predatory prowl or the fast thumps of heavy clawed paws of something huge and large sharp teeth that quadrupeds have is so a satisfying in a heart racing way. I WANT a Mew or Mew-ish creature to be able to have that vibe while connected to the earth that but then I look at those LONG footers and nub paws and I…I’m left feeling like it’s not possible.

Even for Meau like…their arm to leg ratio…I don’t think it’s possible to run on all 4s. Naruto-run sure. Absolutely. All the mews and twos can Naruto run and kangaroo-hop with them leggies…but none of them move with the “tiger on the hunt in the forest” vibes. I want to make something close to that but I keep making something too permanently quadrupedal in anatomy.

Sorry for the tired brain rambling I just my brain won’t let me sleep because of it’s “How would Meau run down their prey on foot” thoughts sending me in a spiral.

You see- you see, I have the same. Exact, brain worms. Constantly.

When I made the Ancient mew, I wanted something feral, a physical threat. That happens to be psychically able to obliterate you as a side treat. In my earliest comics, I tried so hard to demonstrate she was a power house, so much so her mega evolution is entirely just… that. A massive, wall of steel. Meau tore those scientists limb from limb, literally, with her jaw. Even in mew form, she bitch slapped a nidoking with her tail and kangaroo kicked a persian. She could’ve just shadowballed them, sure, but I want that weight. That feral energy, that sense of an unstoppable force, meeting an immovable object, except it’s just one cat and they are about to flatten you.

As her design has clearly evolved, I’ve tried to make alterations that fit this feeling, that vibe of apex predator no matter the size. She’s larger then average because she’s a threat, she’s more muscular because she’s a threat, her tail is thicker, packed with said muscle because she’s a threat, her front paws are meaty and girthy because She’s. A. Threat. Her entire mega evolution is just amping up that primal energy of raw, unadulterated strength. That’s why I made it, it was my first freaking thought after I designed her XD

I was actually caught between animating a younger Meau acting like a mew or an current Meau acting like a threat. I went with younger Meau cuz we don’t see a lot of her and she’s about to come up with Noe’s arc. So if you sent me this lovely and viciously relatable brain dump 3 days ago, I probably would’ve swayed to animate feral meau XD

But, to answer your question, yes. She can absolutely hunt you down on all fours and disembowel you with her jaw, she is that untamed, wild concentration that kills with a sleek efficiency fellow gods fear. And! At the end of our current arc we’ll finally get that secondary typing reveal I’ve had planned since April XD

[whatsaudreythinkingabout]

i fucking hate being a hypochondriac. there are so many things i used to love to do as a kid or wanted to do in the future that now i’m terrified to do bc i learned there’s a risk (even a small one) that i’ll contract an incurable illness that i didn’t know about before & didn’t realize i contracted until it’s too late & the disease has already spread too far into my brain and I’ll die a slow, painful death because of a seemingly innocuous decision i made. used to love petting the stray cats that hung around my old apartment, now i’m scared i’ll get rabies without realizing it (not just from a bite or scratch; even from the minute possibility of contracting it through their fur if their infected saliva came into contact with it while they were grooming themselves). used to love swimming in the lake bc my (ex-)stepdad would take us there on the weekend, now i’m scared i’ll catch the brain-eating amoeba if even the smallest drop of freshwater goes up my nose. always wanted to learn how to make garlic confit bc it looks so delicious, now i’m too scared to bc any garlic-in-oil dish (if stored improperly) carries with it the risk of botulism & i don’t wanna take any chances. this is not exaggeration or sarcasm. i genuinely live in fear of these possibilities occurring every day.

and those are just (at least what i call) the big three; that’s not even mentioning things like heart attacks (one time i had my dorm call the paramedics for what turned out to be acid reflux, another time i went straight to the health center bc my arm was sore), strokes (every once in a while i smile in the mirror to make sure my face isn’t drooping on one side), cancer (ESPECIALLY skin & breast cancer; the scariest thing is that it comes in so many forms and can affect literally anyone, anytime, anywhere, in any part of the body), covid (which i’ve already had 3 times & fear the effects it could have on my brain), etc. i can’t even pop the pimples around my nose anymore (despite my absolutely debilitating dermatillomania; unstoppable force vs immovable object) bc apparently that area of your face is called the “triangle of death” bc there’s so many blood vessels there & if you pop it then it could cause an infection that spreads straight to the brain and (you guessed it!) kills you.

and part of me wants to reassure myself that it’s all in my head and that most afflictions like these are incredibly rare (at least the big three, the other ones are more common), but the other part of me knows that even if they are rare they aren’t to be fucked with and fears the 0.01% chance that it COULD happen and will happen the minute i let my guard down. and what of the girl who cried wolf? what if i keep worrying about it happening so much every time i think it could happen and every time it turns out to be nothing, and then the one time i second-guess myself thinking “it was nothing the last 50 times, why would it be anything now?” it ends up being something? or worse, what if i try to express this to someone else and they don’t believe me because i freaked out about it so many times already and every time it turned out to be nothing but this time it turns out to be something? i know very well the warning signs and that i should always go to the doctor if i suspect i might have contracted something life-threatening (ESPECIALLY one of the big three), i would NEVER downplay the severity of something as serious as one of these, but how do i know when something is truly serious enough to warrant a visit? am i just gaslighting myself? am i overthinking it, or am i right to be afraid? how do i know when it’s the right time to be afraid? how do i stop living in fear? do i even want to stop living in fear knowing what i know now, knowing that i was so much more reckless than i thought when i was younger and have only survived this long through sheer dumb luck? why must life be so cruel that even the smallest actions carry with them the smallest chance of an excruciating death? why can’t i have shit in detroit?

[wordsnbones]

aaaah that makes me so glad to hear!! its like 6am here and im settling down to sleep but i just saw this! and now im determined to double down on the praise with ✨specifics✨

first of all, just… What I Wouldn’t give. that fic…oh god its just one of my fav pieces of writing of all time! like right off the bat the concept is great—akaza wanting to turn kyojuro’s brother, not him, and it would save his life. the good ol’ unstoppable force meets immovable object energy. the way u wrote Senjuro…chef’s kiss. especially cuz he’s not a character i ever super cared for, and now i adore him. his lil crushes, hiding his pain, being more level-headed w his sickness than his brother. ALSO how observant he is, and the whole family dynamic. like , him, akaza, and kyojuro, when their little family started blossoming and he started to be okay with them—that was one of my favorite parts. super well built up, at first his feeling of betrayal, then acceptance, then fully just knowing more abt akaza and kyojuro’s feelings than even they did. that was so satisfying, i was giddy smiling from ear to ear glued to my phone during those moments. just..the back and forth between the three was so so well done. like, ive since gone back and skimmed thru just for the dialogue, to like analyze and learn from it, cuz its nothing short of a masterclass.

and then kyojuro and akaza, who, well, you always nail. great dialogue, and great complexity. kyojuro punching him at first, then slowly accepting that he would consider it, things getting out of hand w senjuro finding out, so many complications and they all came to such satisfying fruition! i also loved how you write shinobu and mitsuri, in general, but also very much so in that fic. and then, well, when everything goes some typa way and we got a cute little demon family, that was just sheer perfection. also, WHAT THE FUCK SANEMI

and i feel it makes sense to doubt your own writing, yknow, like from what ends up written and on the page to the original vision theres always something lost in translation, and when you’re the one writing its difficult to not see the parts that dont align or dont live up to that vision. BUT. as a reader im spared from that burden, and only have the story that’s in front of me, and i think that’s why its almost baffling to hear that your humor is one of the things ur less confident about! like, the fic w tengen n sanemi gifting them the collar, and everything that ensues. i was laughing my ass off so much during that one, and that ending was just great. the whole “cat bite” thing w misturi *getting* it. the one where kyojuro becomes a cat, too, absolutely hilarious. the most unfortunate of moments for him to turn back, the 5 stages of grief they both experience. aaaah, i could rant on and on, but crux of it is that that was truly one of the highlights of your writing for me! especially, with all the angst! because that’s another thing you pull off so (too) well, you wield it like a bludgeoning weapon. Last Sunset im looking at you.

and i think that’s the thing: it’s the good writing, the good flow and pace, sometimes laser focus on the plot goal(which is one of the things i find so hard to manage), the perfect characterization, the dialogue that always has a point, always means something, always incites something, and then the absolutely ferocious angst, and then moments of fluff and comedy that were fully making me giddy and manic. like. they all just hit so much harder because their backdrop makes you thirst for it all the more. it wasnt whiplash bc ur reading thru the harshness and begging for the light. so its just..depth and complexity of emotion, yeah?

but yeah!! this got slightly out of hand but i just had many thoughts left unsaid and it made me very glad to hear that i could make your day. your art certainly made mine. :)

hi!! i spent essentially all day reading your akaza/kyojuro fics today and oh my god. there’s some half coherent comments left on some of those written at 7am dkshd. but then i also saw that you have a tumblr, and i just wanted to say: your writing is amazing!!! i’m a huge fan! i love a story where you can see both the characters from the original source, AND the author’s own characters under. like, your characterization is so on point that when you take it and explore it in some wild direction (never thought i’d want shinobu to be LESS girlboss) it’s amazing! not just the characters, too, but the world, the story, the expressions, the emotion. you also are so funny! like, in the fic itself, but also some of the authors notes at the end had me cracking up so hard. you just…manage to really fit so much emotion in your stories, and i’ve truly connected and been been very inspired by your writing. you are an amazing storyteller, truly. and im just fascinated by your brain, honestly; the smutty fics, the blood drinking fics, the kinks, the angst, the gore, the comedy, the fluff, the romance, the profound queerness of it all. i was obsessed w all of it, it was so beautiful. think i’ve felt the entire range of human emotions today, which, to me, is a testament to your sheer talent. i’m definitely a huge fan now! i can’t wait to see what else you’ll come up with in the future! <3

laskdjflds So, I opened up this ask while I was at work today, (actually I was just checking notifications when I saw it and started reading it) and then like three of my coworkers came over and were like "omg Kaz is smiling, what are you smiling about? You never smile" (untrue, I think I smile a fair amount haha) and then continued to tease me over it the rest of my shift

Lmao, the point is, this made my day, I kept opening it up and reading it and it made me feel so light and giddy. I'm just getting in from work and settling down with dinner and it's still making me smile

Thank you so, so, so much! I'm so glad my stories could bring you any amount of entertainment at all, let alone inspire a whole myriad of emotional responses! To be completely honest, I've hit a point where I'm not super confident in the things I write, and these types of messages help remind me that not only is it something I'm good at, but others enjoy it as well :D It means a lot! Storytelling means so much to me, both my own and the media I interact with, so to know my personal connections with it are touching others means the world!

(Also my humor is honestly the aspect of my writing I'm actually the least confident in, so I'm especially in awe and pleased that you enjoyed that so much)

So glad you enjoyed the fluff and gore and romance and angst and all the niche kinks and smut too haha. Am down to let others examine my brain at any time, have fun with it alkdjfla

Thank you so so much for all the kind words, and I hope you enjoy any upcoming projects! :D

[merakiui]

Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, and Childe Finding out That You’re Being Abused HCs

cw: mentions/descriptions of (physical and emotional) abuse, injuries, depressive mood/thoughts, implied violence **please proceed with caution and do not read if this is triggering! note - submissions are confusing for me, so I wrote it in this format. I hope that was okay! 

@tuestika said: Hi! Sorry that I send my request through submission, tumblr has sometimes eaten my asks either wholly or have omnomned whole ask xD Usually my requests sent through submissions arrive intact so…. I saw that you had done Scaramouche reacting finding out their s/o is being abused headcanons, may I request headcanons for Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao and Childe finding out their their s/o is being abused? Keep up good job! <3

🔥 Diluc 🔥

Diluc might not be the most vocal person in the world, but he’s definitely observant. He’s gotten rather skilled at picking apart your social cues because he’s spent a lot of time with you. 

So when you barge into his tavern one evening, looking absolutely disheveled and asking for one of the Knights, he’s feeling two emotions: confusion and irritation. 

For one, you shouldn’t even entrust your issue to those inadequate Knights. Nevertheless, you are his friend and he isn’t going to kick you out just because you mentioned them. 

He waves you over to the bar and is thoroughly shocked when you beg him to let you hide behind it. Then he notices your split lip and the fresh injuries on your face and forearms, and he wastes no time in getting to the point.

“Why were you out so late fighting hilichurls? I hope you haven’t led any here. We don’t need that sort of trouble right now.”

“Sorry. No, that’s not it. I just—you’re the only one...” You’re struggling to piece a coherent statement together, too busy looking over your shoulder to keep track of your thoughts. “I didn’t know where I could go. I mean, I thought of you and—“

“Please slow down. Start at the beginning.”

More concerned over your safety than professionalism, Diluc allows you to slip behind the bar counter, where you cower on the ground to avoid being seen. 

You gesture for him to come down to your height and he sighs, silently complying when he finds there aren’t any new customers to serve. Bending down to your level, he holds onto the countertop to keep his balance and then he locks eyes with you. 

“What exactly happened?”

You inhale a shuddering breath, wrapping your sore arms around yourself for comfort. Tears are gathering in your eyes as you recall the event. Your abuser had found you after you’d left to get some fresh air, they’d cornered you in a secluded alley, and—you can’t finish the rest of the story.

Diluc doesn’t expect you to continue. He nods as he lets the information sink in, already harboring a deep resentment for this despicable individual. 

“Wait here. I’ll close the tavern early. In the meantime, we should see to your injuries and then we’ll look for that person.”

“I really think we should tell the Knights...” you mumble, knowing he’ll disapprove. “They’re more suited to these types of cases.”

“The Knights are incompetent. The investigation will take days, if not weeks. What happens if your abuser knows they’ll be coming for them? They’ll try to escape and then there’ll be no telling where they’ve gone.”

“I know, but it wouldn’t hurt to—“

“I’ll take care of it.”

You try to object because it’s dangerous and you don’t want him to get injured on your behalf. But he’s insistent in his decision, claiming that if the Knights can’t help you no one can. And you really wouldn’t feel safe if your abuser was still roaming free, so you have no other choice but to allow him to carry out the investigation himself.

And Diluc can be quite clever at times. It won’t be hard to traverse the interior of Mondstadt at night, where his identity melts away into that of the sneaky Darknight Hero. 

He’s going to protect you no matter what. Your abuser won’t receive an ounce of sympathy from Diluc. All he feels is cold hatred when he catches them. Someone as precious as you does not deserve to be put through such torment, and he’ll see to it that your abuser pays a hefty price to make up for all of the damage they’ve caused.

🧊 Kaeya 🧊

Kaeya can’t understand why you’ve started isolating yourself from everyone. In the past, you were always such great friends with the Knights, always catching up to talk to one of them.

He’d spent a lot of time with you and has since gotten to know you through lighthearted conversations and gossip from the people of Mondstadt. 

For someone so appreciated and well-known, he can’t wrap his head around why you might want to suddenly disappear, hiding yourself away as if you didn’t exist. 

And then he happens to catch you in town one day while you’re out running some errands. It’s so like him to pop in with a few flirty lines, but the words stick in his throat when he notices the bandages stuck to your arms and legs. 

“That can’t be good,” he says as he approaches you, leaning ever so gracefully against a wooden support beam. “Why don’t we find Barbara? I’m sure she’ll have you patched up in no time, my dear friend.”

You don’t think you’re worth it so you shake your head, nervously hoping he’ll take the hint and go away. 

“I hope you’re not accepting those dangerous commissions again,” he adds, half teasing and half serious. You can’t tell whether he’s trying to sound chiding or not. 

“Please just...leave me be. I’m a little busy right now.” You try to leave the stall you’re at, walking stiffly to avoid limping in front of him. “I’m not feeling well, so if you’ll excuse me—“

Kaeya pushes off from the beam, standing in front of you with a posture that appears immovable. “By order of the Calvary Captain,” he’s saying, a playful glint in his eyes, “you aren’t allowed to move from that spot until you tell me what’s bothering you and why you’re covered head to toe in bandages.”

You can easily object to such an order, but you figure it’s better to answer instead of arguing over your physical condition. So you explain a modified version of the story, telling him that you simply got into a disagreement and it ended in bruises on both sides. 

Kaeya hears the tremble in your voice when you say it; you’re lying. His expression softens at once and he steps away, indicating that you’re free to leave. But you don’t; you’re looking at him with such a helpless, pleading look. It breaks his heart.

You break before him, lips quivering as you beg for his help. You’re so scared and alone, and you’re not sure how long you can suffer through this before it seriously hurts you. 

“This is the first time I’ve gotten out in weeks.” So that explains your sudden isolation. “Please... I don’t want to go back home anymore. I’ll do anything. Just don’t let them hurt me again.”

Kaeya’s absolutely stunned to hear the silent revelation in your words. You’re awkwardly reaching to undo one of the bandage wrappings to prove your point, but he stops you short. That’s all the proof he needs.

You’ll be brought back to the Knights of Favonius’ Headquarters to be tended to while he gathers a team to search for your abuser. Since you gave him a solid description, it shouldn’t be too hard to find them. 

And once they’re apprehended, Kaeya will subject them to a grueling interrogation. There will be no gentle punishment; it’s going to be as unforgiving as the abuse you had to suffer through. 

☁️ Xiao ☁️

You’ve never really been keen on physical touch and Xiao understands that completely. He usually avoids any sort of interaction to begin with, unless it’s absolutely necessary, so it’s not a surprise whenever you shy away from large crowds.

He has grown rather fond of you, which has lead to the two of you meeting at Wangshu Inn for some Almond Tofu and relaxed chit-chat.

During one of your many conversations, you bring up a few alarming statements. They’re just personal points you’d like to change, such as your weak fighting spirit or the way your joints brokenly click when you stretch. 

Xiao wonders why you’d want to change yourself. You’re not usually this doubtful of yourself. In the past, you would always play the role of his smiling friend, putting on a positive face even when he was in a disagreeable mood. 

Xiao is examining your movements as you awkwardly explain yourself and when your arms move he catches the sight of a rope burn etched into your wrist. 

“What happened?” He gestures to your sleeve, to which you react in a nervous manner, shyly pulling your sleeve down to hide it. Xiao frowns a bit. “Did you get into an accident?”

“No, of course not! I’m fine. It’s just a result of my clumsiness.”

It really doesn’t look like that to Xiao and when he truly looks at you again he finds that you appear abnormally tired and exhausted. He isn’t going to sugarcoat anything and he could be making a giant assumption, but he still asks.

“Is someone hurting you?”

Your eyes widen for a split second and Xiao catches that movement like a cat drawn to a laser pointer. He won’t force you to explain unless you feel comfortable doing so. The last thing he wants is upsetting you or pressuring you into something you don’t want to talk about.

Eventually, though, the story will come to light and he’ll hear all about the horrors you’ve gone through. That rope burn was just one of many punishments you’ve had to endure, and Xiao’s just about ready to snap. How dare someone lay their filthy hands upon you in such a violent way?

Xiao will calmly tell you to stay at Wangshu Inn or anywhere else in Liyue where you’ll be safe. He’ll watch over you while you take time to recuperate and heal. He’s going to make sure you’ll never have to go through something like that ever again.

Having Xiao by your side makes the healing process all the more comforting.

And when you fall asleep in a soft, warm bed, Xiao slips out into the night to search for your abuser. It won’t be a pretty sight once he gets his hands on the human trash who dared to hurt you.

💧 Childe 💧

He’s very perceptive when it comes to your health and overall well-being. After all, he’s got brothers and sisters to care for; perception is absolutely necessary in order to keep them happy and healthy.

So it doesn’t take long for him to realize your behavior is uncharacteristic. You’re jumpier than usual, always apologizing for the littlest of things, and you’ll look over your shoulder whenever you sense something.

It’s almost as if you expect someone to suddenly come at you, which isn’t all that odd. Childe has been known to keep you on your toes when he’s looking for a fight.

But on one particular day he manages to give you a spook when he comes up beside you, grinning and showing up in your peripheral so suddenly that it nearly gives you a heart attack. 

You’re so frightened as you back away, practically folding in on yourself in an effort to protect yourself from an imaginary blow. Childe pauses, that silly grin fading when he realizes you’re shaking.

“Hey, it wasn’t that scary. Come on, comrade!” He’s approaching you warily, not entirely sure why you’re acting the way you are. He’s always been spontaneous; you should be used to this by now.

But you refuse to let him come any closer, having to distance yourself so that you can ease your racing heart and hyperventilating lungs. Once you’ve calmed down, embarrassment floods through you at the fact that Childe just witnessed all of that. 

Childe will ask if you’re okay with him stepping closer and if you nod he’ll be on you like a hawk, pulling up your sleeves before you can stop him. 

For once, you catch an expression you normally don’t find on Childe: surprise. He’s genuinely shocked at what he sees: dark bruises and shallow lacerations from something sharp. 

Either you got these in your many sparring matches or there’s another factor at play here, and Childe is almost certain it’s the latter.  

His voice is gentle as he asks you to explain what’s going on and once you do he’s already set on finding the one who did this. He seems to forget all about his Fatui work, wanting to capture your abuser and give them a piece of his mind—and subject them to more than a few pieces of his strength, too. 

He’ll have you protected in no time, offering to take you to the best healer. You’ll be treated wonderfully and he’ll even lay off on your sparring matches for a while. 

In the meantime, once he gets his hands on your abuser, everything becomes fair game. After all, someone has to handle the brunt of his anger and pent-up bloodlust from the lack of a fight. And your abuser is the perfect match to pummel into the ground. Childe shows absolutely no mercy for them. 

[mickstart]

what do you think are some iconic/memorable schumi moments? i just got into f1 and would like to know more about him bc somehow i can’t really find anything like that about him.... just stats which are incredibly impressive but i can’t find anything about how he behaved or just anything about his personality..... thanks <3

:) Hi anon, thank you for unleashing the beast.

Ok I love you for asking me this thank you SO MUCH. Welcome to the circus I’m glad you’re here! Also yeah, Schumi is often talked about in terms of statistics and not as a human, Which is a shame bc like! Schumi is fascinating and the dynamics on the grid in late 90s F1 is so much fun! Also, this is mainly going to be late 90s -> early 2010s stuff bc I was born in 98 so uhhh I didn’t properly witness ANY 90s stuff and had to learn about it.

OK so I got super carried away but I’ve divided this into 3 sections: Drives/races that I think showcase some of his talents, human moments we need to talk about more, and Chaotic Little Bitch moments. The key thing to remember w/ Schumi is that he personally tends to be nice but as soon as you put him in a competition, Bastard Mode activates like a cat’s pupils going wide.

I am so sorry for the following short essay. Also some crashes are briefly mentioned but only ones with absolutely no injuries and there’s no details.

Chaotic Little Bitch Moments

Schumi debuted as a SUBSTITUTE driver for Jordan when one of their drivers was in police custody (yes. really.) The highest a Jordan had qualified all year was 10th and in his DEBUT at SPA, one of the toughest tracks, in the middle of the season, Schumi qualified that Jordan 7th! THEN his clutch failed before the first lap was even complete, but Benetton and Jordan WENT TO COURT to fight each other to sign him for their team before the next race in Monza. He couldn’t debut normally he HAD to cause a scene and set the tone.

The Red Strings of Fate: He qualified 7th, his iconic 7 starred helmet, his first victory next year was ALSO at Spa - his first complete race would be at Monza, Ferrari Holy Ground, and he finished 5th which 👀 1) he was immediately racing with The Greats. 2) Mr 5 Championships With Ferrari.

Winning a race by taking a stop and go penalty on the last lap, crossing the finish line in the pits, and making such a complicated argument about said penalty that in a hearing that was SUPPOSED to be Mclaren protesting the race result the stewards scrapped the entire penalty and the 3 who awarded it handed in their licenses??? Iconic.

Austria 2002 where Rubens was ordered to give the win to Michael. And then Michael fucking made him stand on the top step on the podium like “oh no no no RUBENS deserves this” and made a big SHOW out of it and its like “Michael stop you’re not making it heartwarming you’re making it WORSE Michael STOP” The Tension of germany 2010 podium VS the theatricality of THIS podium.

Team orders were banned because of this which also makes this indirectly responsible for Fernando Is Faster Than You having to be a coded message. You can’t escape him,

Blocking Alonso in Monaco qualifying and then, years later in 2010, overtaking Alonso technically illegally at Monaco (the race was ending under safety car, but the safety car doesn’t lead them over the line it pits and they’d crossed the safety car line and the regulations were NOT specific about the rules) and getting a 20 second penalty bc Damon Hill was a steward. Haunting FERNANDO specifically at Monaco like the ghost of christmas past? Getting a harsh penalty because ANOTHER driver he’d fucked over was a steward? Forcing the FIA to rewrite the rulebook to account for his nonsense when he was in his FOURTIES? I don’t know another chaos king.

Winning the 1995 championship by crashing into Damon Hill, getting AWAY with it for some reason, and then trying to do the same thing in 1997 to Villeneuve, failing to do so and simply rebounding off of him harmlessly, almost COMICALLY, and beaching his own car in a gravel trap at which point the FIA said “I have had ENOUGH of you Wacky Races Man!” and disqualified him from the entire championship

Forcing Mika off the track so bad at Spa 2000 that Mika realized the only way he was gonna be able to get past him was to re-invent the overtake and go for it whilst they were passing a backmarker. (The overtake itself is at 2:05 in the video but the build up to it is Important bc the key part it’s not just badass, it only happened bc Mika knew who he was dealing with.)

Spa 1998 was a Ridiculously Chaotic race it truly was the Mugello 2020 of its year, and after a crash at the start that took out almost the entire grid Schumi accidentally collided with Coulthard later in the race. (The teams used to have a spare car at every race then, so the race was able to continue after a restart.) This wasn’t a racing thing, Coulthard was getting lapped. So something in Schumi SNAPS, and he storms down the pitlane and tries to fight Coulthard while the mclaren and ferrari mechanics both hold him back and finally drag him away. He projected into the future, saw Coulthard was gonna talk non-stop shit about Seb, and acted accordingly.

Monaco 2012 Pole don’t talk to me about this I still can’t believe the audacity of this man to get the only pole of his comeback, at MONACO, at the ONE RACE where he had a 5 place grid penalty to take!!

In general, I know Cheating Bad but. I HAVE to admire the brainpower it must take to have the rulebook so memorized that whilst driving an F1 car Schumi could spot a loophole the size of the eye of a needle and then dance through it, forcing the FIA to add ANOTHER page to the rule book specially for him bc nobody else even REALISED that loophole existed.

Human Moments

A quick rant about Mika and Schumi’s entire friendship. After Spa 2000 Mika goes up to Michael, says something like “Don’t ever do that again” then they’re friends again. They had this mutual understanding that Racing was not Reality. This goes all the way back to their F3 days they were rivals AND friends for their entire career. They truly were the Sewis of the era if Sebastian was like 50% more evil. Their entire dynamic is “You’re the only motherfucker in this pit lane who can handle me”. Schumi would do some bullshit and every other driver would throw up their hands in frustration and Mika would just go “Okay” and drive better to put him in his place bc he was the only one who could keep up, and Schumi very visibly LOVED that he’s grinning after Mika owns his entire ass with that overtake at Spa. They were unstoppable force meets immovable object and I’m so sad their rivalry isn’t more talked about bc the way Mika is the only driver who can get him to behave like a normal human being is SO entertaining.

This is a sad one so I won’t link it but he started crying in the 2000 Monza press-conference with his brother and Mika when he equaled one of Senna’s records. The press kept trying to ask questions about it and Mika just has this death grip on his shoulder and tries to get them to stop or let them take a break and it’s so sad but also important to know about.

Once said he didn’t want Mick to race in F1 bc the pressure of his name would put Mick under so much stress and he wanted his son to be happy. (He fully supported Mick in his endeavors! But only after making absolutely sure it was what Mick wanted, and making sure he knew he could just race for fun if he wanted and it didn’t have to be F1)

This whole interview just after Mick was born with the Schumacher family. Special shout out to Gina on his head the entire video and also Corinna talking to the press while Michael is captivated by Mick. Me too Michael.

Once allegedly pleaded to take a stray kitten home from the track?

I reblogged this yesterday but. Sticking like glue to Sebastian at an F1 test and immediately being like “This is my new son he’s gonna go far”. There’s a lot of pictures out there also of Michael being a guest at the karting races Seb went to as a kid and baby Seb visibly losing his fucking mind at being given a trophy by his idol. Every day of my life I think about him trying to ruffle Seb’s hair through his helmet at Brazil 2012

WInning the championship in 2000. Him thanking the entire team individually and pausing mid-celebration to kiss his wife Corinna so tenderly it’s in the F1 opening. Also, the way it literally cuts from the rest of McLaren looking like they’re attending a funeral to Mika grinning at him and hugging him fucking SENDSSSSS me.

Schumi was a little shit in all the 2010-12 press conferences like, lowering Lewis’ chair, playing with a microphone wire, but ESPECIALLY corrupting baby Seb and getting him to mess with Nico Rosberg.

He’s just GOOFY! Like I refuse to let him be remembered as a terrifying force of nature he was so goofy kind of similarly to Seb. PLEASE watch this incredibly awkward interview he did with Coulthard on a golf buggy where they both had to pretend they hadn’t thought about murdering each other at least once. I think Sky F1 should force Brocedes to do this when covid’s over. “Do you mind if I drive?” “Yes.”

EDIT: I CANNOT BELIEVE I forgot the 1999 Canada press conference where Eddie Irvine and Mika Hakkinen get into a water fight and Schumi immediately grabs a towel and hides behind it and is like “I had NOTHING to do with it” 🥺 adorable, actually

A lot of people at Ferrari, including Rob Smedley (who was on the other side of the garage with Felipe Massa so not in his inner circle) have said that a lot of the success of the team came from Schumi’s LEADERSHIP more than anything, that he’d make the team get together to bond all the time. When Schumi moved to Ferrari in 1996 they were NOT dominant. He did the same thing Lewis did - went to a team that everybody said would be a huge mistake and helped build them up behind the scenes.

THIS bit of the Canada 2011 Rewind where his engineer gives him the strategy and he’s like “... OkaAaAaAay?” and then when it turns out to be the wrong strategy he cheerfully tells them it’s too late. Little shit.

Speaking of Mercedes I also wanna say that like. They were a MESS in 2012 and his car DNF’d because of a failing on their part MULTIPLE times. (In Canada qualifying his DRS was stuck open and they couldn’t close it.) He did not say a single bad word about them EVER even though the press used this to attack him non-stop as washed-up and bad without Ferrari to cheat for him. At Ferrari he was the exact same with the team, any bastard antics Schumi had for his rivals did not extend to the engineers and crew.

OK this one is soured bc Top Gear is trash BUT if you were like, a kid in England who followed motorsports? Schumi’s fake reveal as The Stig on Top Gear was like the coolest, sickest thing,

Please view this image of Schumi and Mika when they were young and stupid

Iconic Races

ok so I have limited myself to a few races that show off some of his key strengths!

Hungary 1998 / France 2004 - STRATEGY/SPEED - Schumi switched to a 3 stop strategy in 98 and a FOUR STOP strategy in 04 and won both races. In order for the strategy call to work he’d have to basically make every single lap a qualifying style ‘flying lap’ and you best fucking believe he DID THAT. God I fucking miss when Ferrari was the king of strategy.

Argentina 1998 -  has it all. Talent, battling Mika, pit lane mind games with mclaren, and bullying coulthard xxx

Spain 1996 / a majority of the wet races - RAIN - One of Schumi’s nicknames was Rain Master bc he was so fucking good in the wet. If it started raining and you were a Schumi stan you were cackling evilly before the red lights even went out. I single out 1996 bc it was his first win for Ferrari and it was unexpected but in most wet races, even Canada 2011 post comeback, you can see Schumi thriving.

Malaysia 1999 - Schumi missed pretty much the entire second half of the season with a broken leg, came back for the last 2 races with everybody murmuring about whether he would struggle, and immediately put the Ferrari on pole. Also worth noting is that he was the number 2 driver for these 2 races bc his teammate Irvine was fighting Mika for the championship and he went along with that without complaint, allowing Ferrari to win the constructor’s championship if not the driver’s.

Monza 2002, 03, 04, or 06 just because it has the energy of the tifosi kneeling at the feet of an idol to their red god.

Brazil 2006 - Fuck All Y’all - Schumi’s last race for Ferrari. He got a puncture and ended up almost lapped, and then drove his way back from that to 4th bc he couldn’t go out without reminding us he’s a bad bitch.

Monza 2012 - Defending - Don’t tell F1 Twitter that there’s actual footage of Lewis and Michael having a genuine lengthy battle on track but DO watch Michael defending like a motherfucker and Lewis breathing down his neck for half the race we need to talk about this more.

Valencia 2012 - This isn’t necessarily anything special but I cried in my living room over the only podium of his comeback so it goes on here. It doesn’t have the same impact if you haven’t been watching him struggle with the car for years, DNF-ing from car failure most of 2012, and having BBC F1 telling you he’s washed up every single weekend, but you can just enjoy one of the best drives of FERNANDO’S entire career as he DRAGS that Ferrari by its hair to a home grand prix win and then watch the crowds embrace him like jesus and also Schumi being happy on the podium. Also, the very start of this clip from the press conference: him forgetting what language he’s supposed to be speaking 

Basically, Schumi was a hyper-competitive ambitious bitch who turned into a goofball as soon as he switched the engine off. This is by NO MEANS everything if I was making an exhaustive best races guide I’d do more research and another post but I hope this is what you were looking for?? THANK YOU SO MUCH for letting me go MAXIMUM SPECIAL INTEREST and I apologize.

[scoundrels-in-love]

Almost 300 years a week later, here are some of my thoughts on Dan Ah and her actions through ep 11 and 12. I will try not to repeat too much of the points I made here, or elsewhere in my rambles, but if it happens, it happens. + I won’t operate on mindset that you’ve read it.

First, I think her saying ‘apologies are meaningless, I can’t take back things I said, only make up for it’ is incredibly telling of her as person and the kind of environment she grew up in - the high society and family where apologies are dished out hollowly and never followed through with intention of changing something for the better or your behavior. Time and how you spend it is very important to her. She even says as much in her confession and I think it only outlines how much her time is the one thing she tries to have control of, and exert it (over herself as well). Considering the concept of possibly terminal illness that she suffers from, it makes sense. She doesn’t have time to be patient, no one will wait for her, including her own health. Yeong Hwa is the one immovable object that forces her to slow down and readjust her whole approach to life and it’s been... Not comfortable, necessarily, but it’s been functional, so she struggles to redefine it, especially without real example.

Second, there’s lot of parallels to be drawn between her and Mi Joo. And I ended up writing this all backwards, so I am not sure if I’ll manage to include it, but in some ways, Mi Joo’s line about ‘I value myself more than anyone else’ both in the sense that she’s the most important to herself and that no one else values her truly highly is very reminiscent of Dan Ah’s attitude and the way she admitted she isn’t in control of her life entirely o Mi Joo.

And there’s. of course, that moment when Mi Joo responded sarcastically to Seun Gyeom, later to apologize for it, which he took in a stride (much as he had said that he had never felt Dan Ah walked over him unjustly), because he does understand where they come from and how they work, on a certain level (even if he underestimated just how his father would strike and manage to hurt Mi Joo). I think Dan Ah isn’t at place where she cay say that yet, but I do believe sentiment is within her.

If someone asked what motivates Dan Ah, her answer could be similar to Mi Joo’s - fear and obsession, rather than Seun Gyeom’s regret. Fear of being controlled, of being weak and sick, obsession of having and exerting certain power and keeping yourself safe. Now, this point altogether is purely speculation on my part, of course, but that’s my read on the character, but also her anxiety has been mentioned several times and anxiety is basically that - fear, especially of things going wrong/being out of control, if we wish to trivialize it.

And although Dan Ah merely adds that whatever she had, got taken away from her, she basically used same method as Mi Joo - set her goals and opted for the best ‘fake’ that she could get, in this case her company, rather than being football player or the gallery. Both, in the same way, would rather put up walls to not lose what little they have but the men in their lives just... Bypassed them.

It’s interesting to note that similarly as Mi Joo is currently trying to sort ouf what is real and to go for, instead of relying on having a ‘fake’, so does Dan Ah - it’s likely she is planning to expose the illegitimate status of both her brothers to gain what is technically rightfully hers (hence asking her younger brother to side with her even when it will not be comfortable for him).

Third, I think the way she’s seeking out Mi Joo and her opinion is very interesting. And it does loop back to Yeong Hwa as well!

From the very start, we see that Dan Ah actually cares to listen to other people to an extent (she asks her secretary what she did wrong to upset Seun Gyeom, even if she ends the conversation how much simpler it’d be if all of us thought were similar, which is strongly undermined by all of her interactions with Mi Joo and even Yeong Hwa essentially). She is interested in experiencing being opposed and challenged in a way that is not downright demeaning as she does in her family. She finds their view on world interesting, if somewhat incomprehensible, and listens to it, processes it inwardly, even if her initial reaction might be defensive. (Also, it shows from start she’s willing to admit she doesn’t have all answers, same as she does with Yeong Hwa telling him that she doesn’t know what answer he wants - as she would need to know in business deal which is what most of her world consists of.)

But in some ways, I also think she is interested in what Seun Gyeom and Mi Joo have created and how. She basically instantly could tell Seun Gyeom is interested in Mi Joo which is implied as rare occurrence (or perhaps even the only time since she says she’s the last woman he liked and he debunks the theory), she asks several times what Mi Joo sees in Seun Gyeom that makes her so protective of him (which I think is both a way to see how deeply Mi Joo cares for him and to see more of Seun Gyeom). But also in some way, although it is her own act to let Seun Gyeom, she “loses” him to his own path and Mi Joo both. Because I do think she cares for him as a friend, perhaps only one she has.

Although she puts Seun Gyeom’s picture by the trash, it’s actually not taken out for several days and it’s definitely not because the secretary or the cleaner are neglecting their duties. Rather, same way as he didn’t throw away the honey but handed it back to Yeong Hwa, the secretary is aware she’s not really emotionally throwing him away. Because once she likes something, she never really stops, as per her own admission.

So there’s this certain feeling of loss that she can’t quite admit to herself and want to know both what Mi Joo saw and supported in Seun Gyeom and how and a yearning for something similar, because this is basically the first friendship/not work based relationship of the kind that she sees. (The same way she marvels is this how full-blood siblings are supposed to be when Eun Bi is upset about Seun Gyeom’s picture and how she defends her brother and then, Dan Ah actually ‘tattles’ on her so he can protect her, which can be covered up with excuse it was over the schedule, but was it really?)

In fact, she seems to be somewhat envious of relationship her brother has with her secretary, saying he still cares for her brother more and also the way she wanted to be included in the whole cat talk. She is upset when he doesn’t say he’s her person, but employed by the company, she protects him the way she knows how to (regarding revenge kick) and generally cares for him. She just wants someone truly and personally on her side, even though she probably has a hard time admitting it to herself which results in these odd and halfway there and nowhere attempts, especially paired with  the fact she doesn’t really know how to establish not-work-related connection on a deeper level.

I will add point fourth here, although it’s still technically third. It’s safer, far more practical and logical to stay detached. But the heart wants what it wants and it’s friendship, connection, being liked for who she is and being challenged but not seen as lesser, with someone who won’t smile because she’s his boss, although that sort of control is precious and hard fought to be had in part of her life.

Caring for something or someone is relinquishing this control, basically inviting the same result Seun Gyeom got taste of at ep of 12, the result she already experienced with her dreams of being football player crushed. Except if it involves another person, it increases the chances of being hurt by them exponentially. And it’s also worth considering that if her relationship with mother was close, she’s also already experienced abandonment and grief of losing someone dear and close. (Which, of the leads, only Mi Joo knows and even then it’s more the absence of reflection what other people around her have which hurts, but in a different way, as per my experience.)

Concept of Mi Joo’s friendship, and Yeong Hwa as a whole, become very images of these unsaid wish fulfillment because they’re not trying to be.

They’re themselves, argumentative and challenging, and teasing, despite her being ‘above them’ in power hierarchy, leveling the field by merely ignoring it, and, initially, she doesn’t even try to get Yeong Hwa sign a contract, it’s only when her own yearning for his work (and for him), and him denying her any of it becomes a problem that she ‘admits’ it was her own fault for not drawing the sort of lines she’s used to with everyone else, and even then she’s not really thrilled about him agreeing to it, because it’s not really what she wants from him, although it’s what would be the safest and make the most actual sense within her world.

Even then, as her employee, he refuses to follow her orders and tells her plainly - if she wants something, she is to be vulnerable and invest herself into it (she actually tries, by smiling because he had said it was cute) and she has to admit to herself and to him, that he has grown onto her, not as a ‘vending machine’ or ‘employee’, but person whose opinion and feelings toward her are very important to her.

Also, it’s very telling how she tells him she belongs to herself, of course, and that he, too, can still belong to himself. She wants him as individual separate from herself, but the thought that he is firmly on her side obviously makes her very happy. In some ways, it’s also upgrade from ‘my person’ claim she makes toward her secretary, a learning curve.

Fifth, I suppose. While I rewatched some scenes to make sure I wasn’t actually misremembering, I started to think of another motif that repeats through her conversations.

Dan Ah repeatedly tells him not to have expectations, sentiments, disappointments toward her. From one side, it’s to draw a clear line of employee/employer and view each other in a detached way (that she tries again and again herself, but fails to), but from other, is it that simple?

She is almost crying when she asks him if he’s really stopped liking her and from preview, we learn that no one has asked her out before, seemingly? Probably because she was too much of a boss ass bitch, but still possibly left with a certain sense of inadequacy and that ‘when I am being apologetically me and I will always be that, I am not likeable although I do not entirely understand why’, as per her wondering why people always think she’s mean when by most of her society’s standards, she is rather thoughtful.

Her want of gallery has been brought up several times, her older half brother often says her pick of artist will never be good enough, her father still sees her as a tool to marry off. She as person with her goals and dreams and what she has achieved, just isn’t good enough for people around her at large.

The moment he cares for her, the moment she inherently becomes capable of disappointing him. The moment she cares for him, the moment she becomes capable of disappointing him. And that thought, of doing that and not enough to Yeong Hwa who has sneakily smiled his way into her heart, the growing awareness she truly doesn’t know how to be in some aspects, is overwhelming and painful and she tries to shut the door to it.

Also, he tells her he likes her no matter what he does, but he hates it, which I imagine is double the punch and she tries to find a solution that would make him happy and stop hating it - the perfect answer, as she would in a business deal, but she can’t, until she commits to the truly mortifying ordeal of being known (as suggested by Mi Joo).

Sixth, I really liked that she (or the narrative) didn’t make fun of Yeong Hwa crying. In fact, she’s eyerolled about her younger brother’s temper, but not really in the present made fun of him for apparently being a ‘crybaby’ in the past. I think that in a sense shows her actual streak of empathy and maybe the fact that she’s familiar with need to cry herself and doesn’t find it ‘weak’ as most ‘tougher’ characters would. Also perhaps that she cares for her younger brother more than she has admitted to herself, similarly as she kept denying she cared for Yeong Hwa and went rather far to hurt him.

[utilitycaster]

As someone mostly unfamiliar with wizards, is the number of spells Caleb knows fairly typical? I've heard it can vary from campaign to campaign depending on how generous the DM is with money, resources and spell scrolls

I’m also not amazingly familiar with wizards so I invite wizard players to add to this with like, thoughtful and correct answers. But that’s not going to stop me from speculating wildly!

Per that invaluable resource, CritRoleStats, Caleb has 56 spells (54 listed, and they hadn’t added the tower spell or teleport, both L7 spells.

The minimum number of spells a wizard can have (just the automatic two per level) at Caleb’s level, assuming no feats or racial traits giving you extra spells, would be 30: you start off with 6 spells at level one, so 6+2*12 is 30.

For reference, a L13 college of lore bard with no special feats, the subclass with the most permanently known spells of the ‘spontaneous’ casters* would know 18 spells - 16 plus the two magical secrets spells at L6.

Anyway: Matt (and Liam) have played it pretty by the (spell)book when it comes to copying down spells in terms of time and money, though Matt did have him find some special ink that reduces his need for fancy paper. Actually given that Liam just bought all the paper in Nicodranas he might have forgotten he has that, or it may have run out. The amount of money the Mighty Nein has seems reasonable to me for this level, especially given that they’re fairly strict about actually paying for taverns and food, whereas many DMs handwave that.

I don’t know about generosity with access to scrolls. I started to look across the spells cast list, the money/goods/services spreadsheet, and the transcript search tool until I realized this will take hours and I do technically need to be doing some amount of work and there are some disagreements between the character sheet and spells cast. Anyway it seems fair to me; like, the point of a wizard is that they basically get all the spells. That is their primary feature. They have an AC of 15 on a good day, they are damn lucky if they hit 100 HP even at L20, Intelligence saves are pretty rare, they know like 5 kinds of weapons, but good lord do they have spells. Make them work for it, but make spells accessible to them.

I can say the following:

Essek let Caleb copy at least four spells that I know of (gift of alacrity, fortune’s favor, immovable object, and resonant echo)

Featherfall, expeditious retreat, catapult, and shield all came from Pumat’s store.

Greater Invisibility, Major Image, and Levitate were all found during the Uthodurn robbery although the only one Caleb seems to have ever cast is Major Image and none were on the character sheet

Caleb looted a spellbook from the Archmage’s bane in episode 45 and who knows how much was in there

Polymorph is given to transmutation wizards for free as a L10 class feature

Yussa let Caleb copy down Globe of Invulnerability in exchange for keeping Willi

Caduceus bought Flaming Sphere and Telekinesis for Caleb in Nicodranas

Matt and Liam may have worked out how creating new spells work; it might be permitted in addition to the normal leveling spells but require costs for experimentation, rather than for transcription. If that’s the case, Cat’s Claw might count, Widogast’s Transmogrification probably does, and Web of Fire, Vault of Amber, and the tower spell all should.

Protection from Energy was mentioned in the King’s Cage and Shocking Grasp at Pumat’s but neither is on Caleb’s sheet on CR Stats nor has he cast them, so I’m guessing there may have been an offscreen discussion/trade for a different spell that’s of more use.

*spontaneous in quotes to distinguish it from prepared and because the D&D system is not truly Vancian in 5e and I want all pre-5e smug nerds to know that I do not give one solitary fuck about how every day in Jack Vance’s world you must Eat the Weave and Taste the Rainbow or whatever.

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Hi! Thank you guys for keeping me sane in these crazy times. The sheer size of this library and how you guys keep track of stuff is really impressive, especially when the show ended so long ago. I was hoping you could suggest a few fics with good pets (like 'little bit of feel good' or 'bluebird's flight'). Preferably where the pets show a good deal of affection only for klaine. Hope you guys are doing ok and take care!

Thank you for the kind words. - HKVoyage

FICS IN ASK

Little Bit of Feel Good by slippingintostockings

Kurt is not an animal person. Blaine is a vet. They dislike each other. Or do they.

~~~~~

The Bluebird’s Flight by a_simple_rainbow

Kurt’s on a train to New York. He’s depressed, listless, alone in the world and one sad song away from a pathetic video clip moment. But things could apparently get worse: when the train becomes mysteriously empty, stops and leaves him stranded in an unfamiliar middle of nowhere. Kurt finds himself in a world with wizards and healers, and all sorts of bizarre things, but most of all where people tell him he’s the Crown Prince everyone’s been waiting for - prophesied to end the horrors of tyranny they’ve been living for the last 18 years. The only thing he wants is to go back home, but no one has a clue how to do that, and it doesn’t get any easier when he finds himself wanting to help, and a little bit in love.

(warnings include secondary character deaths, graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts)

~~~~~

OTHER FICS WITH PETS

But Anyway by reidbetweentheelines

After a drunken one night stand, Kurt quickly accepts that he will never see the man again. And he doesn’t, until a special dog named Indy enters his life and takes her to the local veterinarian clinic, only to see same curly haired, hazel eyed man, Dr. Anderson.

~~~~~

In The Jungle by brittbojangles  [PDF]

With his life in shambles, Kurt moves back home to Lima to start again. While trying to finish his degree, he takes job at an animal shelter, working under the insufferable, yet stunning, Dr. Anderson. Things go awry when they try to mix business and pleasure. The pair must decide if their relationship is worth dealing with ill-fated events and an immovable object named Keenan.

~~~~~

And Learn to See by Corinna

Kurt has a store cat, a few loyal celebrity clients, and a retail clerk who’s a little terrified of him. He doesn’t want for anything. Until he does.

~~~~~

Kleptomaniacat by hazelandglasz 

sweet-peach-tea asked

Oh man I love this meetcute prompt: “My cat steals underwear and I come home to find you chasing my cat to get your underwear back.” Especially if Blaine has some really nerdy superhero underwear.

Note: You need to be logged on to AO3 to access this fic.

~~~~~

Chloe and Me by legallyblained

Kind of a Marley and Me AU? Basically the story of Kurt and Blaine as seen through the eyes of Blaine's Labradoodle, Chloe. The character death in the warnings is NOT Kurt or Blaine. I wrote this in the summer hiatus between Season 4 and 5, so you'll notice a point where it no longer fits the canon, but I decided not to change it.

~~~~~

Dog Days by JustBreathe15

After the slushy-incident, Blaine's parents buy him a puppy to cheer him up. Kurt never imagined Blaine would grow so attached to the dog…or the role she would play in their lives.

~~~~~

SERVICE DOG

Piglet and Pooh by  Amberlovesocean

At the age of 8, Kurt is grieving for his late mother. Blaine’s brother doesn’t want to be stuck babysitting. Rachael’s fathers want her to make real friends. Neither Kurt, Rachel, or Blaine wants to spend their summer at a community theater for kids. Each in need of a friend, the children gravitate towards each other and find a friendship that will last the rest of their lives.

~~~~~

Glowing in the Dark by @xxxraquelita

Sight is a funny thing. It’s taken for granted so much of the time, and people never realize how much they rely on it until it’s gone. At least, Blaine knew that was true for him.

~~~~~

Behind The Hazel Eyes by  LPBekka 

Kurt Hummel is a world famous model sick with the shallow ways in which our society judges by appearances. Desperate to find someone who likes him for him and not his looks he seeks refuge in the arms of the one man who can see him for who he truly is. AU

[inmyownlittlecorner5]

libera nos a malo Chapter 5: Mari Lwyd

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina

Rated for Mature Audiences

Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content

Chapter 5/20

libera nos a malo masterpost+

unstoppable force/immovable object masterpost+

<< Chapter Four+

Chapter Six+ >>

“Mira, are you ready yet?” demanded Finn.

“Almost. Are we late?” Miranda replied as she dawdled in the bathroom, braiding her hair and adjusting her cloche hat. Since she’d been a child she’d been slower than molasses on Sunday mornings, and today was no exception. Driving her brother insane was just a side benefit.

“Seeing as you can get us there in an eye wink, not yet. But in another five minutes we will be.”

“How long do you think we’ll be out?” she asked, half to herself. “I should probably pack my evening regimen in case I need it.”

“Good God, woman! Do you ever plan ahead?”

“Sometimes.”

Finn muttered under his breath while she moseyed to the potions closet. She took her sweet time selecting the vials and balms, being sure to charm them against breakage before putting them in her woven handbag. While she was double checking her list, a terse knock and the sound of the cabin door opening broke her concentration completely.

“Howdy stranger,” Finn said, sounding entertained and frustrated together. “Sis, it’s your boyfriend. You comin’ with us?”

“It would appear so,” Severus replied.

His tone was so neutral that, without the benefit of his facial expression (however subtle it tended to be) Miranda could not tell what had possessed her lover this morning. A volatile combination of pleasure, surprise, confusion, and exasperation coiled itself in her chest, like an adder ready to strike; and it took her some minutes to master herself, lest she embarrass him by too great a show of affection in front of her brother. Sometimes Severus reminded her of a skittish colt; one that had been hurt one too many times and required a firm but measured touch.

She did allow herself a satisfied smile when she came out into the main room and saw that the Englishman had taken the trouble of dressing in his No-Maj-style Sunday best. In his well-cut gray suit with his hair pulled back he was a pleasing study of angles and lines; even if he was a trifle on the thin side from lack of care. His dark eyes were brewing with a mixture of resignation and irritation; but they warmed when they made contact with hers. It was a little thing, but it was enough.

“I’m glad you came,” she said simply.

He gave her the barest of nods, and Finn muttered something she didn’t quite catch but that she thought included the accusation “moon-eyes.” To her surprise, Severus offered her his arm, and she took it eagerly, ignoring her brother’s amused snort.

“Seein’ as now we are late, do you think we could get a move on?” Finn asked as he pushed past them and out the cabin door.

“Relax, Finn,” Miranda replied. “If we get there by the Sanctus bell, it counts.”

“Good thing, too,” he said, but the grin he gave her over his shoulder bespoke his good humor over the familiar situation.

It was an unseasonably warm winter day; one of those false springs that give rise to foolish hopes, no matter how bleak the times. At the end of the lane Finn reached out to take his sister’s hand, and the three of them disappeared together.

*****

Miranda’s knees buckled when they appeared behind the squat stone church where it crouched like a lopsided mushroom sprung up in the sandy soil; and Severus was quick to slip his arm around her waist to keep her from collapsing completely. Landanwg was far enough from her cabin that she’d had to Apparate them all to a half-way point before making the final plunge, and the effort had literally taken her breath away. She panted, clinging to Severus’s sleeve while her magic spilled out of her like blood from a wound.

“You alright?” Finn asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

“I just need a minute,” she snapped, frustrated by her weakness. “Go on ahead. I know you hate being late to Mass.”

Finn looked dubious until Severus insisted, “Go. I have her.”

“Fine. But if y’all ain’t in there in ten minutes I’ll be comin’ out after you,” Finn warned as he set off for the front of the church.

When her brother was out of sight, Miranda allowed her head to rest on Severus’s shoulder, and he pulled her close as though he might help her put herself back together by force of will. Her head was still spinning from the trip, but as she forcibly slowed her breathing, she could feel her magic start to wind itself back into her core.

“Are you steady now?” Severus asked after she’d stopped trembling.

“I think so,” she replied, smiling up at him. “We’d better go in before we miss the whole thing.”

“Indeed.”

It was later than she’d thought it was, and the little church was filled to the gills. Severus’s arm tensed under her hand, and she knew he was irritated at being put in the unwanted position of disturbing the proceedings; but he soldiered through the embarrassment, leading her up the middle of the simple room where Finn was saving a spot for them both. They managed to settle themselves on the worn pew just in time for the Sanctus bell; and Severus sat rigidly upright as Miranda and Finn knelt on either side of him.

As the minutes ticked by, Miranda’s mind started to wander; and not even the hearty Tantum Ergo sung by the tiny, but stalwart choir could help her bring it under control. Soon she spotted Rachel pacing in an alcove with a very squirmy baby in arms, and she made good on her escape from the tedium of the pew.

“I’m going to go help Rachel with the baby,” Miranda whispered to her disgruntled lover, and was up and away before he could fully register his displeasure with the arrangement.

“Good morning Maggie, you look smashing today,” Miranda said when she reached her goal.

Maggie babbled a string of vowels attached to the letter B and reached for her godmother.

“Thanks,” whispered Rachel distractedly as Miranda scooped the child into her arms and began arranging the frothy pink skirts of the little one’s Sunday dress.

“Yes, that is an angel right there on the wall,” Miranda said, following Maggie’s gaze and guessing at her babbled questions. “Oh, and look! Here’s a little daffodil along the window. Isn’t it nice?”

“I didn’t know Severus was coming with you today,” Rachel murmured, looking rather distressed.

“I didn’t either. He showed up right before we left.” Miranda whispered back. “I hope it’s not a problem he’s here.”

“No! That is, it wouldn’t be, except for Robert.”

“Robert? Robert Walker? What’s Severus’s being here got to do with him?”

“He invited himself along.”

“He didn’t.” Miranda’s eyes quickly scanned the room, and there indeed was Robert Walker, standing shoulder to shoulder with Aaron at the far end of the front pew.

“If I’d known Severus was coming, I would’ve put Robert off.”

“It’s not your fault,” Miranda reassured her, even as her heart started to pound. She had no idea how far she could trust the Ambassador, and today was not the day that she wanted to find out. “We’ll think of something.”

Even as she made this empty boast, the Mass ended, and the congregants streamed out of their pews with their Deo Gratiases barely out of their mouths. There was nothing the Americans could do besides be swept along with them, and Miranda winced as she caught sight of Aaron, Robert, Finn, and Severus coming together with the terrible inevitability of a train wreck. Aaron’s face was as flushed as hers felt, and the last thing she witnessed before the movement of the crowd brushed her outside to await the damage was Robert sticking his hand out to Severus in friendly expectation of being introduced.

The ladies extricated themselves from the flood of humanity and gathered together beneath an old ash tree. Rachel started tugging Maggie’s little cloak in place, and Miranda fussed with the folds of it in order to give vent to her nerves.

“I’m so sorry,” Rachel said.

“Don’t be sorry, you didn’t know,” Miranda replied. “But when they get out here, follow Severus’s lead. He’ll have come up with some sort of cover, I’m sure of it.”

“Right.”

Maggie was squirming in Miranda’s arms and would not be content until Rachel took her back. Miranda regretted letting go of the child, though. Now she could only watch with growing apprehension for the men to exit the church.

“Are you ever going to tell me what that man really does?” asked Rachel, putting on a brave smile and encouraging Miranda to do the same.

“I hope so. But not today.”

They caught sight of their party at last, and Rachel busied herself with putting Maggie in the baby-carrier and fastening all the ties. Miranda kept her face as immobile as possible, fairly confident that she looked less anxious than she felt. Aaron’s smile was obviously forced, Robert’s expression was enigmatically pleasant; Severus’s face was blank except for the periodic twitch of an eyebrow, and Finn looked like he’d never been more amused in his life. Her brother gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before walking a little downwind of them in order to light up a cigarette. She’d be joining him as soon as humanly possible.

“Miss Rose, what a pleasant surprise,” Severus said with a suavity that she’d not realized he possessed. “I did not know you were such a close confidante of the Lees.”

“It’s a small world,” she replied in kind. “Nice to see you in the open air.”

“Likewise.” He turned to Rachel, effectively dismissing Miranda. “Rachel, I thank you for the invitation, and for the most recent pages of the Nagasaki potion text. It is truly fascinating reading.”

“You’re so welcome, Severus!” Rachel replied, her voice a little too high. “And thank you for joining us.”

“Miranda! Good to see you this fine morning,” Robert said, shaking her hand and flashing her a grin that reminded her uncomfortably of the Cheshire cat.

“Good morning, Robert. I didn’t know you’d be here,” she replied, pleased at the way she kept her observation from sounding at all pointed. Severus, if he noticed, didn’t show it; and he determinedly engaged Rachel’s attention about potion minutiae.

“Wouldn’t miss it. It’s been too long since I’ve been down to Wales.”

“I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m starving,” said Aaron, sweeping in and taking charge of the situation.

“You read my mind,” Robert replied. “Where do we get a bite around here?”

“There’s a little pub over yonder. The cawl there’s not to be beat.”

Robert and Aaron set off at a good pace, and soon were deep in a conversation about Embassy matters that were of no interest to anyone but them. Rachel, Maggie, and Severus fell in behind them, still discussing the potions text, and Miranda allowed herself to linger behind with her brother. Finn handed her a cigarette, and as soon as the others were out of sight, he let out a boom of laughter that he’d obviously been restraining for some time. Miranda couldn’t help but join him.

“That boyfriend of yours is quick on his feet,” Finn said when they’d recovered enough to set off towards the pub.

“It’s one of his better qualities,” she replied.

“I hate to say this, but I think I’m starting to like him. Maybe you oughta try not to fuck this one up.”

She rolled her eyes. “Maybe you oughta keep your opinions to yourself.”

He let out a low whistle. “Fuck me runnin’, it is serious.”

“As a heart attack,” she said, letting the sarcasm sharpen her words to protect the grain of truth inside.

Finn shook his head at her, but minded his tongue for the time being, apparently pleased to have harried his sister into admitting even part of the whole.

*****

“I don’t think I could eat another bite if you paid me,” Robert groaned, pushing his chair back from the wide table littered with empty plates. “Good call on the restaurant, Aaron.”

“I thought you’d like it,” Aaron replied.

Maggie babbled her agreement from her perch on her father’s lap while Rachel took the opportunity to finish the last of the eggs on her plate. She and Severus had been deep in a heady potion debate since the group had left the church, and Miranda had to admit that she was impressed by his performance so far.

“What’s next on the agenda?” Robert asked.

“We should take a walk down on the beach since it’s not too cold,” Aaron replied. “Rachel and Maggie were hoping to see some seals.”

“I’ll meet you down there,” Finn said, finishing his coffee. “After I’ve had a look in Mari Lwyd for that album Seamus wants.”

“I’ll come with you,” Miranda said.

“I would not be adverse to perusing the shop with your party,” Severus said.

“Then it’s settled,” Rachel said. “Robert, why don’t you come down with us, and the others can catch up later.”

Robert’s eyes were on the wad of Muggle currency that he was counting as he replied, “I think I’ll head over to the shop first. But you go on ahead. Then you’ll be ready to give us the grand tour when we get there.”

Miranda stifled a groan and Severus continued to appear blandly polite, as though he spent all his Sundays on excursions with people he supposedly barely knew. Rachel mouthed an “I’m sorry” behind Robert’s back when they rose from the table, and the group split in two with the Lees heading away from the little town towards the shore, and the rest of them winding up the narrow streets to the shop. Robert took the spot next to Miranda, leaving Finn to walk with Severus, and even though the Ambassador kept up a steady stream of conversation, she fancied she could sense Severus’s silent irritation emanating from his person. She was never going to hear the end of this.

The Mari Lwyd was a squat little building, and would have been lost in the crowd of similar gray stone companions, except that she boasted a bleached-white equine skull strapped to the end of a long stick above her door. It took Miranda a moment to realize that the bizarre thing was a hobby-horse (albeit a grotesque one). The inside was crammed with an odd collection of ghastly hobby-horses, clownish marionettes, No-Maj records, musical paraphernalia ranging from the practical to the sublime; as well as a staggering number of bookshelves that were packed to the gills with dusty books. Severus excused himself (and politely too!) and escaped into the maze of literature, and Robert let him go without a glance. For all the inanity of Robert’s questions (What baseball team do you follow? Ever been out to California?) Miranda had the distinct feeling that she was being cross-examined, although she was aware that she might simply be irritated with Robert for becoming an unintentional third (fourth?) wheel.

Finn zipped off to do business with the ancient shopkeep; but once he’d secured Seamus’s prize, he took pity on his sister by engaging Robert in a humorous debate on whether Quidditch or baseball were the superior sport (baseball, obviously). As the two men talked and explored the contents of the record bins near the front of the store, Miranda slipped away, ostensibly picking over the novels further inside. Near the back of the shop, she discovered an open door leading to a basement filled with more towers of books; and as she descended the stairs she found Severus reading a thick tome, apparently oblivious to the world around him.

Something told her that apologizing about the current situation would only further annoy him, and so she simply said, “You handled yourself splendidly this morning.”

He replied without glancing up, “Of course I did. What kind of spy did you think I was?”

She started exploring the stack of books next to his, careful to give him plenty of elbow room. “I think you know I’ve always thought highly of your abilities with regards to espionage.”

He seemed to grow several inches under the light of her praise.

“Whenever I take it into my mind to do something spontaneous, it never fails to end in disaster,” he observed with an ironic smirk.

“I hope you won’t let it stop you from trying.”

He brushed past her, and she felt his lips drop onto the back of her neck for an instant, causing a pleasant shiver to run down her spine.

“One would think that today’s lesson would be sufficient to prevent such foolish decisions in the future. Unfortunately I do not seem to retain such lessons consistently.”

“That does sound troublesome.”

“I assure you, it is.”

He did not linger, and she supposed it was for the best. If they’d gotten this far into the day without arousing Robert’s suspicion, maybe it wasn’t too much to hope that they would get out of this unscathed. She dawdled in the basement until she had a stack of curious novels almost too high to carry; and when she emerged from below to purchase them, the others were nowhere to be found. The shopkeep was quick about his work, and she was more annoyed than concerned to have been left behind. When she had her books packed away in a sturdy paper sack, she went out into the weak light of the afternoon.

“There you are,” she said, spotting the men loitering in a narrow lane next to the shop.

“Took you long enough,” Finn said, brandishing one of the deathly hobby horses. “Like it? I think I’ll give it to Susan for her birthday.”

“You would.” Miranda shrank her books with a quick wand flick, and stuffed the diminutive shopping bag into her hand bag before any uninitiated No-Majs could notice. “Are you ready to head down to the shore professor?”

Severus had taken a seat on a low stone wall, and was deep in the same book he’d been reading in the shop. But he nodded distractedly, “That would be agreeable.”

“I wonder if they’ve found any seals yet,” Robert commented as they started towards the main street.

A shining hummingbird darted into their midst, and Miranda had to blink before she realized it was Rachel’s patronus and not an overbold animal.

“There’s a giant down by the sea caves. We could use a hand.” Rachel’s voice said with the bird’s mouth.

Everyone started talking at once.

“A giant?” asked Robert.

“Of all the…” muttered Miranda

“Hoo boy!” whooped Finn.

“Did any of you get a good enough look at where they went to Apparate us to them?” Severus demanded.

“No,” Miranda admitted.

“I didn’t,” said Robert. “And there’s probably too many No-Majs around to take the risk.”

“Of course,” sneered Severus. “We wouldn’t want to disturb the Muggles with a bit of Apparition when there are giants wandering about their shores.”

“Pardon me, professor,” Robert said, his voice a tad too edgy to be truly polite. “I’ll leave the potioning to you, and you leave the international law to me.”

Miranda could see that Severus was about to completely lose his temper, but there wasn’t much she could do about it. She grabbed Finn’s arm, dragging him away from the argument.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asked, scanning the lonely lane for a likely prospect.

“I sure as fuck hope so,” Finn replied gleefully.

“That black one over by the hedgerow?”

“That’s the one.”

Finn set off towards the hedgerow as inconspicuously as a man with one arm and a skull-headed hobby-horse slung over his shoulder could possibly do, while Miranda inserted herself between the arguing wizards, cutting them off in mid riposte.

“Sorry to break up your fun, gentlemen, but I think we’ve found an answer to our problem,” she said.

“Action would certainly be preferable to continuing this inane altercation,” Severus replied.

“I’m all ears, Miss Rose. And I wouldn’t mind seeing you earn some of that money I’m paying you,” Robert said irritably.

She ignored the dig and took the ambassador by the arm, half leading and half dragging him up the lane while Severus followed alongside. “Finn’s gone ahead, and we’ll be on top of him in less than a minute. When we get there, you two keep watch and we’ll take care of the rest. But I need you both ready to jump when I say jump.”

“You seem to have mistaken me for someone beholden to you, Miss Rose,” Severus said icily.

She snorted impatiently. “Let me put it into small words for you. We’re borrowing a car, and your job is to keep any No-Majs from getting in the way.”

“Somehow I doubt this falls on the legal side of any Statute, International or otherwise.”

“The professor’s right. Do have any idea the amount of parchmentwork that kind of a stunt would generate?” Robert said, but there was an interested gleam in his golden eyes.

“Are you a Thunderbird, or aren’t you?” Miranda shot back. “And more importantly, do you have a better idea?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Robert admitted.

“Then best not to think too hard about it,” Miranda reasoned

“What an excellent philosophy,” Severus said. “Is that the Thunderbird motto?”

“I’m pretty sure,” Miranda replied. “Or whatever that is in Latin.”

They had caught up to Finn and his victim by then, and the wizards positioned themselves at either end of the vehicle to watch for wayward No-Majs. Finn was already in the front seat and had most of the steering wheel column exposed.

“Are you about done in there?” Miranda demanded, sliding into the seat behind him.

“Almost,” he said, shoving the hobby-horse into the back with her. “Here, hold this.”

“Thanks, just want I want to do—be shoved in the back seat of a stolen car with a horse skull.”

“Shh, you’ll hurt her feelings.”

“Her?”

“I named her Peggy Sue.”

“Ass.”

“And proud of it.”

Finn shoved a large safety-pin through two of the wires and the car sputtered to life. In the next instant he’d jammed his hybrid screwdriver/hammer into the ignition, and overpowered the lock on the steering wheel. Miranda rapped on the back window once, and Severus entered the back of the car with all the dignity he could muster, while Robert clambered into the front seat, his eyes shining like a child’s.

“Buckle up for safety, kids,” Finn crowed as he steered the car down the twisted lane towards the main street.

“Try not to hit anything this time, would you Finn?” Miranda said, attempting and failing to maneuver the hobby horse in some direction that wouldn’t cause either end of it to jam into Severus or herself.

“Give me that thing,” Severus snapped, jerking Peggy Sue out of Miranda’s hands. He muttered an incantation, and the thing shrank to the size of a lima bean.

“You’d better not lose that,” Finn warned.

“I’ve got it,” Miranda said. “I’m putting it in my bag right now. You just watch the road.”

“This really isn’t a bad way to travel,” Robert commented, once the four of them were vaguely settled, and the street had smoothed out before them.

The cobblestone gave way to asphalt at the edge of the town, and the hummingbird patronus sped along just in front of them. Finn hit the gas to take advantage of the wider road, looking exceptionally pleased with himself. Robert seemed torn between the thrill of the novelty of stealing a car, and apprehension at the trouble this was likely to cause him later. Miranda was bouncing in her seat while she craned her neck to watch for signs of either the Lees or the giant—and Severus was beginning to look quite green about the gills.

“Are you alright, professor?” she ventured.

“Indubitably,” was his strained reply.

It was about this time that the sirens started.

“Shit, I knew this was a bad idea,” Robert said, glancing over his shoulder at the traffic car behind them.

“Mira, you wanna take care of that?” Finn said, unconcerned.

“On it,” she said, turning around in her seat to squint out the back window.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Severus demanded, looking quite ready to be ill.

“Don’t distract me,” she said. “Or better yet, give me a hand. I’m going to take out the tires, and you see if you can catch their car so they don’t flip.”

“This is the worst plan I’ve ever heard.”

“Worse than stealing the car in the first place?” Robert asked.

“On three,” Miranda said, her wand in hand.

“If you count to three one more time, I’ll not be held responsible for my actions,” Severus muttered under his breath, but he took out his wand and turned towards the back of the car.

“Three!”

She squinted and slashed her wand, and the first tire blew. Severus swore loudly and drew his wand through the air, while she took out the second tire. The traffic car swerved wildly as Miranda destroyed the final two tires, but it came to a halt in the ditch next to the road without crashing into anything, or flipping over. The policemen fired a few shots after them, but Finn quickly outstripped them. Severus gingerly faced forward, looking more green than ever.

“Motion sickness?” Miranda asked.

“Don’t talk about it,” he snapped.

“I see them!” Robert cried.

They crested a hill and beheld both the ocean and the giant in all their gruesome splendor. The foamy waves crashed against the rocky shore, and the giant was crushing the stones in its path into powder as he tromped over the landscape that rumbled with every thunderous stomp. Finn skidded across the road and onto the sandy turf, sending sprays of dust behind them as they squealed along the beach.

“I shall never accept another invitation for the rest of my life, so help me God,” Severus said through gritted teeth.

“Good to know a little churchin’ this mornin’ did you good,” Finn quipped.

“Finn, leave the professor alone,” Miranda warned. “For all we know he’s as pious as a monk.”

“Beggin’ your pardon professor. Can’t take me anywhere,” Finn replied.

“We’re going to have a bear of a time covering this one up,” Robert interrupted, gesturing to a group of bystanders huddling next to a tiny stone church on the shore. “Look at all the gawkers.”

“We’ll deal with that later,” Miranda said. “First we have to stop him. Wait, is that Aaron up ahead?”

A black bloodhound shot out from behind a dune, barking madly at their tires.

“Looks like it to me. Hit the breaks, Finn,” Robert ordered.

“Don’t know who made you boss,” Finn muttered as he pulled the car to a skidding halt.

The hound bounded towards them, shifting painfully into Aaron’s stricken form in mid leap. The instant the car stopped rolling, Severus bolted out of the back seat, his legs folding beneath him as they hit the unmoving sand.

“The giant’s got Rachel and Maggie,” Aaron panted, bracing himself on Robert’s door. “Scooped ‘em both up and stuffed ‘em in his pocket.”

“Get in,” Robert said. “We’ll catch them, don’t worry. Come on professor.”

“No,” Severus said firmly. “I would not get back in that demonic machine if my life depended on it.”

“Your life doesn’t,” Aaron fairly shouted. “Theirs do.”

Severus dusted the sand off his trousers and stood up to his full height. “Some of us have other means of pursuit available to us. I leave you to yours.”

Without another word, the Englishman muttered an incantation unlike any Miranda had ever heard. As he spoke the strange words, a black cloud enveloped his extremities, engulfing him until the bulk of his body was a semi-solid mass. He gave them an ironic bow and sped up into the ether, cutting through the sky after the giant like a malevolent cloud.

“Those teachers over here are hard core,” Robert said wryly.

“Not bad,” said Finn as Aaron scrambled into Severus’s vacated seat. “Not bad at all.”

“Let’s not get too far behind,” Miranda said; and she couldn’t stop the swell of pride in her heart. Severus really was quite something, and while she might have wished for a quieter Sunday, she wasn’t sorry to show him off to her brother.

Their speed was hampered by the rough terrain and the fact that the old sedan was not made for off-road adventuring. Severus caught up to the giant while they were still maneuvering over the sand dunes, and Miranda held her breath as they watched the giant swat at the black cloud descending on him with his club-like arms. Severus was as nimble in the air as he was on earth (and perhaps more so) and he avoided the clumsy blows as he landed somewhere on the giant’s ragged shirtfront. The creature paused in his raging, and for a moment it seemed that they might finally catch up to him; but then he was off again, and disappearing into the mouth of a cave that skirted the edge of the sea.

“It’s a perfect day for a little spelunking, do you think?” Miranda asked grimly.

To her surprise, it was her own brother who twisted the knife.

“Sure does. Too bad you’re not going,” Finn said as he drew the car to a halt on the rocky shore.

“Finn!” Miranda protested

“Miranda, don’t you Finn me, or I’ll get that boyfriend of yours to put you in time out,” Finn shot back.

“He’s right,” Aaron said firmly. “You’re only cleared for light duty. Giants are heavy lifting.”

“Besides,” said Robert, “we need someone here to deal with the No-Majs if they catch up.”

Much as she bristled at being left behind, she knew she was outnumbered and that arguing would only waste more precious time. “Fine. Just get going.”

Aaron gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, and then bounded out of the car, shifting to his animagus form as he did. Robert was hard on the bloodhound’s heels, and soon both of them had disappeared into the cave after the others. An eerie silence descended on the beach, punctuated by the constant crashing of the waves as the minutes ticked by. Miranda got out of the car and started pacing, wand drawn, but waiting at her side. Finn left the car idling, but got out to pace alongside her. After a moment of this, he pulled out a cigarette for the two of them, and she lit them with two shaky finger snaps.

“What do you wanna do when we’re done here?” he asked conversationally.

“I don’t know,” she replied tensely. “Go dancing I guess. Prospero’s is a good time even on a Sunday night.”

“That’d do. Or we could drag your boyfriend back to the cabin and try out the new televideo you got for Christmas. I think some pizza and a little Die Hard sound like the only chaser worthy to wash this day down with.”

She snorted. “If we want decent pizza we’ll either have to go to the Embassy or make it ourselves.”

“Well, I haven’t given you a Christmas present yet, have I?”

“You’re a prince among men, Finn.”

A pair of loud cracks startled the siblings. They whirled away from the caves to face the new attack; Miranda brandishing her wand, and Finn a pistol that he’d somehow managed to slip past MACUSA security. The men that at had appeared at their backs were both grizzled, but it was the more haggard of the two that Miranda recognized first.

“Auror Moody,” she said, lowering her wand slowly and nodding to her brother to do the same. “Nice to see you. Out for a Sunday stroll on the beach?”

“The alarms at the Ministry’ve been blaring for half an hour, Miss Rose,” Alastor replied. “Interesting that we find you here in the thick of it.”

“You know each other?” demanded the other man.

“We’ve met. This here’s Miranda Rose,” Alastor said. “Don’t know who the other bloke is.”

“He’s my brother,” Miranda said as her mind scrambled to place this man’s vaguely familiar face. “And you must be Minister Scrimgeour.”

“A quick thinker. But, then Alastor told me as much about you earlier.” Rufus’s sharp eyes darted to Finn, who was holding the pistol lowered at his side. “MACUSA seems to have an interesting interpretation of our firearm laws.”

“It’s been an eventful day,” Miranda deflected.

“So I gather. Be so good as to explain what’s happened.”

She bristled as she always did when given an order, but attempted to keep her temper under control. "The short version is there’s a giant on the loose. There’s several people back on the beach who saw it, along with a pair of policemen maybe a mile back who saw us…borrow this car. Oh, and someone probably ought to return it.”

“Interesting. It sounds as though you’re attempting to tell me my business.”

“I was merely suggesting a course of action. We’ve got the giant under control here.”

“Who is we?”

A series of pops like a Fourth of July firecracker saved her the trouble of explaining, as Robert, Aaron, Severus, Rachel, and Maggie all appeared on the beach, apparently unharmed.

“Miss Rose, the hobby horse, if you please,” demanded Severus without preamble.

“The what? Oh, right,” Miranda said, and began digging in her handbag for Peggy Sue.

“What do you want with my hobby horse?” asked Finn.

Severus ignored the question, taking the toy and returning it to full size with wave of his wand.

“What…” began Rufus.

“You Yanks sure have some interesting taste in souvenirs,” said Alastor.

“Will it do?” Severus asked Rachel.

“It’s perfect,” she replied.

Severus gave a short nod, and promptly decapitated the unfortunate horse.

“Peggy!” cried Finn, but Miranda dug her elbow into his side and he gave no further protest.

The ground beneath their feet began to tremble again, and Severus handed Miranda the leftover stick while Rachel gave Maggie to Aaron. The baby was waving her arms and babbling excitedly, and all of them turned to see the fearsome giant emerge from the cave—with a similarly proportioned headless dog at his heels. Working in tandem, Severus and Rachel charmed Peggy’s head to a size suitable to the beastly canine, and attached it to the scarred skin of the creature’s neck. The dog leapt and gave a raspy bark; and the ground shook as it landed on its massive paws. The giant scratched the beast just behind its new head, and uttered a string of guttural sounds. Rachel replied with a wave and a few scratchy words of her own, and both giant and dog trotted off towards the northeast and home.

“Robert Walker, you’d better have an explanation for all this,” blustered Rufus.

“And I do, Rufus,” Robert replied with an easy grin. “Why don’t I give you and Auror Moody a hand tying up the loose ends, and then I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. My treat.”

Rufus did not look at all pleased with this arrangement, but as the sound of No-Maj sirens were clearly discernible in the distance—and getting closer—he capitulated ungraciously.

“Fine. Let’s go,” he snapped, and disappeared with an angry pop.

Alastor followed suit, and Robert paused long enough to shake hands with the party.

“Professor, it was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to having a chat with you in the near future. Really fine work today. Rachel, Aaron, thanks again for inviting me. Miranda, I knew I wasn’t wrong about you. Finn, don’t worry about the pistol or the car, I’ll get it taken care of for you. Maggie, you were perfect,” he said without pausing for either breath or acknowledgement; and disappeared.

“Severus, I’m…” Aaron began sheepishly.

“Keep your apologies and your thanks, Aaron,” Severus interrupted. “Only, be sure to inform the Ambassador that I have no interest in speaking to him, ever.”

“Will do.”

“I’m sorry about your hobby-horse, Finn,” Rachel said. “But it went to a good cause. That dog has been lost here in Wales for centuries without a head. By reuniting her with her owner and doing our best to heal her, we may have helped sway human-giant relations somewhat in our favor. The work’s not over by any means, but it’s a good start.”

“It’s alright,” Finn said. “If I had to loose Peggy, at least I got to witness her apotheosis in the process.”

“I’m not going to thank you in words,” Rachel said, turning to Severus, “but I’ll have the next translation in your hands by the end of the week.”

The corner of Severus’s lip twitched briefly into a smile at this. “That would be most agreeable.”

There was a blur of handshaking, hugs, and fair-wells as the Lees prepared to depart. Miranda was half expecting Severus to take the opportunity to escape as well, and much as that would have disappointed her, she wouldn’t have been able to blame him either. But when her friends had all disappeared home, she was pleasantly surprised to see Severus still standing on the beach, and looking no more irritated than he usually did.

“Come on, kids, what do you say we head back to the ranch and I’ll get some pizza made while you two neck on the couch,” offered Finn.

“Finn! We’re not going to neck in front of you,” Miranda protested, her cheeks turning pink.

“Why not? He’s one of us now, ain’t he?”

Miranda’s eyes darted to Severus’s, and she felt her face flush hotter as she tried to divine what on earth was happening behind that enigmatic mask.

“Well, Miranda; am I?” asked Severus in a perfectly neutral tone.

Her face relaxed into a little smile as she replied, “You are if you want to be.”

He bent his head to brush his lips against her cheek, and though they were cool where they touched her skin, they sent a spark of heat running from the point of contact all the way to the depths of her heart.

“Then I suggest we depart before I think better of it,” he said, but he couldn’t quite keep his pleased expression hidden from view.

Finn made good on his promise, and later that evening they ate the best homemade pizza that any Englishman ever tasted. And while Miranda did not neck with Severus on the sofa while her brother labored over dinner; when the three of them were settled there, watching the action film in all its glory, there was a moment amidst the explosions, car crashes, and destruction that Severus took her hand and laced their fingers together—and didn’t let go.

It was a little thing, but it was enough.

******

End Notes:

Many many thanks to Jane/Bunbury for supporting me through writing this chapter! You’re the best, dude.

Mari Lwyd is a Welsh wassailing custom. The wassailers ride a hobby-horse with a horse’s skull for a head as they go caroling about the neighborhood.

The giant headless dog looking for its master is from Welsh folklore.

*****

libera nos a malo masterpost+

unstoppable force/immovable object+

<< Chapter Four+

Chapter Six+ >>

[popatochisssp]

Hi, I love all your headcannons about the boys in a relationship. But they got me wondering, since no relationship is totally perfect, what might be some negative traits the boys have, things they do, or just behaviors in general that could put a strain on the relationship or might need to be talked out to continue?

Oh, I’m glad you asked because you’re right, they’re not perfect at all! There’s lots of habits and quirks they all have, but that’s too subjective– a habit that might bug one person could be totally fine by another!– so we’ll go with our boys’ biggest flaws in a relationship! >:3

*Especially important for the ‘fell and horror universe boys, I’ll be taking a ‘fresh out of the Underground’ lens on this, not accounting for any potential Surface growth or therapy that could take place and ameliorate some of these things!*

Sans (Undertale): He is lazy. So, so lazy. Surely, this isn’t much of a surprise to anyone, but you can imagine how it could be an annoying trait in your partner– he’s never going to do a chore or go out of his way to take care of something for you, and he’s an all-around pro at ducking responsibility. It also means that if he doesn’t already care about something, trying to spark an investment from him is…kinda impossibly unlikely, which can definitely be frustrating for his s/o!

Papyrus (Undertale): It’s not intentional, but he has a tendency to be pushy. He’s enthusiastic and has some pretty firm convictions and so sometimes, entirely without meaning to, he’ll steamroll right over his s/o and what they might want. It can hurt his s/o’s feelings to be talked over and spoken for before they can put their two cents in, but it just doesn’t always occur to him that people might have perspectives different than his own. His s/o has to be able to assert themselves when they really don’t want to do something and aren’t just being playfully shy or stubborn about it, or they might end up peer-pressured into stuff a lot.

Sky (Underswap Sans): Do you like your personal space? Want some significant amounts of time by yourself? Then you’re going to struggle if you’re Sky’s s/o because he can get very clingy. It comes from a good place, he’s a very social guy and if his s/o is his favorite person, then of course their company is going to be his favorite, too! He wants to spend a ton of time with them, whether they’re doing something together or not, and he’s hard to shake with off-the-cuff excuses about why his s/o can’t hang out with him: he’ll know they’re lying and think that something might be wrong and then he’s definitely not going anywhere. If his s/o can’t figure out how to tell him, on a regular basis and without hurting his feelings, that they need space from him to decompress, they’re going to end up exhausted.

Paps (Underswap Papyrus): He’s stubborn. It’s rare for him to make firm judgments on something one way or the other, but once he has, that’s pretty much it. He’ll really dig his heels in if his s/o tries to change his mind, too, and it takes a long time and a lot of arguing about whatever it is to even get him to consider changing his opinion. For his s/o, it probably feels like they’re banging their head against a brick wall, like he’s not even listening to what they’re saying and they can very easily end up feeling disrespected by this immovable object of a skeleton.

Jasper (Underfell Sans): He’s too closed off. It’s self-protective–he’d be a shaking, emotional wreck after the Underground if he’d let just anybody in close enough to see him vulnerable and open himself up to getting hurt–but it can turn around and be a very painful, hurtful thing for his s/o to deal with. When he’s going through something, his first instinct is always to hide it until it blows over so his s/o never even knows he was struggling. They’ll undoubtedly catch hints from time to time that maybe Jasper needs support, but he always hesitates to let them in, and they can’t do anything as long as they’re stuck on the outside of his emotional walls. It’s a very bad feeling thinking your loved one doesn’t trust you enough to let you help and he’ll need a lot of time and love and trust to make even a little progress at this.

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus): Another one that shouldn’t be surprising, but he’s arrogant. He has a pretty big ego and he never easily accepts it when he may have been wrong, blustering and convoluting until it seems like he was right all along– the equivalent of a cat falling off a counter and acting like they meant to do it. He may also condescend a lot to his s/o and fall into an Underground-developed habit of treating them as an underling or an accessory more than a loved one. It’s instinctive and would probably have kept them safe from opportunist monsters if they were back down there, but on the Surface it can get incredibly tiring and even hurtful for his s/o to cater to that kind of ego all the time. If he catches their patience running out and he sees them rolling their eyes or making a snarky comment in exasperation at his narcissism, well, he’s probably going to get upset about it and the two of them will have a fight. He has a lot of acclimating to do to this relatively peaceful world where relationships can be equal without also being a weakness.

Mal (Swapfell Sans): This guy’s the definition of ‘trust issues.’ He can be downright problematically invasive and probing about…pretty much everything, if given a reason to be. It’s not an s/o-specific thing, he’s like that with everybody, but his s/o will probably (and absolutely should) take issue with how little respect he has for privacy. It’s his lingering paranoia from the Underground keeping him constantly alert for backstabbers and betrayers, so if someone as close to him as his partner starts acting secretive around him, he has to investigate. It may be innocent, like a surprise party for his birthday or something, but until he finds out what’s up, there isn’t much that’s off the table: he’ll cyberstalk social media for information, discreetly follow them in real life if they go out unexpectedly, and if they leave their phone with him unattended and unlocked, he’s definitely skimming through some recent messages, just to be sure. He’s not a bad person, he just has some very bad (survival-based) habits. The only saving grace is that his s/o probably won’t find out he sometimes does this stuff because he’s careful, but that doesn’t make it cool and he won’t really stop until he truly, fully trusts his s/o–and that’s a long time coming after everything he’s been through.

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus): Rus cannot have an argument to save his life. He’s not what you’d call a pacifist, not entirely accurately at least– he’s been in his fair share of fights Underground, after all, and he’d fight again if his life was on the line– but he doesn’t like conflict or anything resembling it. It sounds like a good thing on paper because his s/o automatically wins any disagreement that looks like it could turn into a fight, but it’s so terrible in practice for maintaining a healthy relationship. He’ll go along with anything his s/o wants to avoid the conflict, even if it might make him unhappy because he doesn’t want them to be upset at him. It’s also at least 90% conciliatory and if it was about a behavior of his, there’s a very high chance that nothing will actually change, but he’ll nod and agree and promise to do things differently just to keep the argument from happening and then…not, actually. The idea of a constructive or helpful argument is entirely foreign to him, those didn’t exist where he came from and he just wants things to be cool, he’ll say whatever he’s gotta say to make it be cool. His s/o can build up a lot of frustration and unhappiness from that if they can’t convince him to learn some better communication strategies.

Slate (Horrortale Sans): Obviously, it’s not his fault, but he’s forgetful. He generally remembers the big stuff and he does better when something feels important as it’s happening, but as a rule his level of recall is hit or miss. He’s bad at remembering birthdays and other important dates and if he forgets to write a reminder to himself about it, he’s just not going to be there for whatever his s/o needed. It can be hard for an s/o who isn’t prepared to take on so much of the mental load in a relationship without much guarantee of help, especially because they can’t get mad at him for it, not in good conscience, anyway– he didn’t ask for the giant hole in his skull, he’d love a reliable memory as much as they would! He’ll do his best to retain as much as he can, but even with notes and reminders, a lot of things his s/o tells him just get lost to the void and that’s a hard thing to be okay with right away.

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus): He’s…maybe a tad too flippant about things. It’s a defense mechanism he developed Underground, a sort of gallows humor that he relied on to keep his generally upbeat attitude when monsters had to resort to eating humans and each other to stay alive, and even that wasn’t sustainable and there was a very real possibility that his entire species could go extinct in a matter of years, if not months. It was dark times and he couldn’t let himself get invested in every little thing! …but it’s also probably a little disturbing for his s/o when he, say, breaks a bone and only uses a silly, made-up curse word like, “Oh, Sugarbeans, That’s Inconvenient, Isn’t It!” or they hear the extreme, casual frankness he’ll use to discuss even graphic gore and violence like it doesn’t faze him. It’s a little sociopathic, honestly, and his s/o will probably have a lot of moments where they just don’t know how they’re supposed to respond when they see this unnervingly light attitude in their otherwise loving, gentle partner.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaand now I feel a little guilty for all this trash-talking of my boys, so expect another headcanon post soon-ish, pro bono– just like this one, but about their virtues in a relationship instead of just their vices.

They are good boys who would be delightful partners in spite of these pitfalls, I promise! XD

[amaanogawa]

to the scars on your fists

Kurodai Weekend #2, Day 1 | December 8: Ennoshita Productions ( Haikyuu Fighter | Final Haikyuu Quest ) 

“Sawamura has power, has foundation, but Kuroo’s strength lies in his speed and flexibility. And just as Sawamura has countless hours of practice marring the skin on his fists, Kuroo has the same, as do the rest of the fighters here today, all for the same goal.

Victory. Nothing but that.“  

Word Count: 1458

Also available on AO3

Kuroo lifts his hands above his head, intertwining them and stretches, bends backwards and then forwards, letting his hands fall until his palms touch the floor. He’s feeling good today- his senses are heightened, his reflexes sharp. Sucking in a deep breath, his eyelids flutter shut as he centers himself. All he has to do is keep his concentration and today’s fight is his.

In terms of raw strength, his opponent has him beat. Sawamura Daichi, a fighter famous for his sturdiness and dedication to the basics. His style isn’t flashy like that of the newly debuted rookie pair that has caught recognition all across the world, nor is he gifted with a superior physique like Shiratorizawa’s Ushijima. It’s clear to any veteran fighter that Sawamura’s strength is born from that of simplicity. It has been beaten into his body, hour after hour of grueling training, engrained from the blood, sweat and tears shed for the sole purpose of victory. The first time Kuroo watched Sawamura fight, the sureness in his movements was captivating. It wasn’t so much confidence, but trust- trust in the amount of effort he put in, tirelessly, faithfully, without fail. It sent a sort of quiet exhilaration through Kuroo’s bones that he doesn’t quite understand himself.

Sawamura has power, has foundation, but Kuroo’s strength lies in his speed and flexibility. And just as Sawamura has countless hours of practice marring the skin on his fists, Kuroo has the same, as do the rest of the fighters here today, all for the same goal.

Victory. Nothing but that.

He wraps his fists tightly with bandages, double knots the laces on his boots. Cracks each knuckle and looks up. Sucks another deep breath through his teeth.

“On this side, known for his soundless movements and lightning fast attacks, Nekoma’s own Black Cat!”

Cheers erupt from every direction as Kuroo steps out into the fighting ring, but they fall deaf upon his ears. He keeps his sights set steadily on the entrance across from him.

“And opposite to him, the fighter that has finally brought Karasuno back to light, the Flightless Crow!”

As Sawamura steps out of the shadows, Kuroo can’t help but break into a smile. Sawamura’s bloodlust is suffocating, so much so that it silences the audience, and each of his footsteps carries so much weight that Kuroo is unwillingly pulled towards him until they meet at the center of the ring.

“Fighters, the ceremonial handshake!”

Kuroo extends a hand, where it is met with a grip so tight that his bones creak. Sawamura’s smile is syrupy sweet, artificially so, which brings a laugh to the back of Kuroo’s throat.

“A pleasure to be sharing the ring with you, Crow-san.” Kuroo says, mimicking the smile on Sawamura’s face.

“No, no. The pleasure is all mine.” Sawamura’s grip tightens infinitesimally. “Let’s have a good fight.”

The two part, each taking their places on their respective sides of the ring. Kuroo closes his eyes, focuses on his breath, on the blood running through his veins. From the fights that Kuroo has studied, Sawamura is the type to fall back and take a defensive stance rather than make the first move.

“Ready, and. Fight!”

Luckily for him, Kuroo is just the opposite.

In a flash, Kuroo is behind him, swinging the side of his hand down on the back of Sawamura’s neck. It’s a basic move, but it will successfully take down more than a couple of newbie fighters who lack the reflexes to respond in time. Though, Kuroo knows better than to expect Sawamura to go down with such an easy attack. Sawamura parries with ease, wrapping his right hand around Kuroo’s wrist, yanking down with all his might and throwing a solid punch with his other fist. Kuroo just barely manages to block, taken off balance, but a spike of pain shoots through his defensive arm as he pushes himself into a handstand and swings a kick at Sawamura’s face. Sawamura dodges in a fluid movement before Kuroo jumps away, shaking out his throbbing arm.

“My, my, wasn’t that a little reckless, Cat-san?” Sawamura grins, crouching into a defensive stance. “You didn’t really think I’d go down so easily, did you?”

“Well, Crow-san, it never hurts to test the waters before jumping in, now does it?” Kuroo steps to the side, flashing a toothy smirk before ducking low to swing a leg at Sawamura’s feet. Sawamura is good at assessing the situation and is hardly fazed as he flips onto a hand to avoid Kuroo’s sweep, but his options are limited while he’s switching positions, which is the exact moment that Kuroo propels his knee at Sawamura’s face. He manages to block, catching Kuroo’s knee with his other hand, but the blow sends him skidding across the ring before he can right himself and hop onto his feet.

The pair share a grin as they launch themselves at each other, meeting again and again. Sawamura has no openings; wherever Kuroo aims, Sawamura is there to block and return the favour twice over. It’s exhilarating, truly, to meet a foe who contrasts himself so well. Sawamura is sturdy where Kuroo is lean, solid where Kuroo is flexible, never swaying from his path. He is both the immovable object and the unstoppable force all at once, plain to the eye but majestic to behold and Kuroo is left breathless in his wake.

Twenty minutes later Sawamura is sans a tooth and Kuroo is fairly sure a few of his ribs have seen better days. It’s the most evenly matched fight that Kuroo has ever fought. They’re both breathing heavily, but by nature Sawamura has more stamina than he does and Kuroo knows that he has to end the fight soon or else his chances at victory will be slim. He didn’t expect this- this feeling of connection between him and Sawamura. Fighting with him is like having a conversation, one that is riveting and exciting and yet nostalgic all at once.

Kuroo briefly wonders if Sawamura feels the same way.

In the end it comes down to the slightest of errors- Kuroo falters for a fraction of a second, the blow to his arm from the beginning of the fight slowing down his movement almost imperceptibly to the untrained eye. But Sawamura finds his chance immediately, seizing Kuroo’s arm with the crook of his knee and throwing his elbow down against the junction of Kuroo’s neck and it’s all over.

—

When he wakes, Sawamura is there by his bedside wringing out a cold washcloth. Blearily, he rubs his eyes and props himself up on an elbow, wincing at the throb of pain shooting up from his neck to the back of his eyelids. He lets out a pained groan despite himself. Wordlessly, Sawamura hands him a couple of painkillers, which Kuroo accepts after a moment of hesitation.

“What is this? Pity for your fallen foe?” Kuroo asks, voice hoarse. “Damn, Sawamura. You sure did a number on my head. Ever heard of holding back?”

Sawamura chuckles, helping Kuroo into a sitting position. “Not in the fighting ring, no. I didn’t stay out of pity, either. I just…it’s been awhile since I had such a good match so I wanted to get to know you better.”

“So you fell for my devilishly good looks on the battlefield, huh?” Kuroo grins, waggling his eyebrows. “Don’t be embarrassed, it happens often.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Wait!” Laughing, Kuroo just manages to latch onto Sawamura’s wrist before he was out of reach, very nearly toppling out of the bed in doing so. “Wait, I’m sorry, I was just joking. I wanted to talk to you too, okay?”

The pain in Kuroo’s ribs flares up from the sudden movement, which he tries to hide with as charming a smile as he can muster. Sawamura turns, eyes him with a crook in his brow before taking a seat in the lone wooden chair beside Kuroo’s bed.

“I’ll stay, so stop moving around so much. The doctor says you have 2 fractured ribs and a concussion.”

“I mean, you have no right to be saying that when you’re the one who injured me.”

“Say that to my missing tooth.”

Through their playful banter, Kuroo finds it harder and harder to ignore the dimple in one cheek that appears with Sawamura laughs, or the way he traces his bottom lip with his thumb when he’s deep in thought. From that, to the image of Sawamura in the fighting ring, the stability in his legs rooted deep into the earth, power ever flowing to the tips of his fingers, Kuroo knows.

In the ring they may be evenly matched, but outside of it, Kuroo doesn’t stand a chance.

[birdiethebibliophile]

{fic} In the Eye of the Beholder

Word Count:  2.5k Characters:  Lucien, Azriel Relationship:  Lucien/Azriel Warnings:  Semi-graphic descriptions of violence, trauma flashbacks

Here on AO3.

Summary:   Based on @yalenayardeen‘s Cutthroat Fanfiction: ACOTAR Edition Generator! Prompt was:

CHARACTERS: azriel and lucien; TROPE: locked in a room together with no escape; TWIST: vampire au

__________________

Lucien knows why they’ve done this.

He knows. He knew from the second the door had slammed shut. They’ve wanted him for ages; coveted his loyalty, his power, even his looks. It isn’t easy to find one like him, one with enough charisma and sensuality that he could lure victims to them easily, even with the loss of his eye. Like flies to honey. Sometimes he feels like that’s what he was turned for: to be a lure.

And now he’s the one in the trap.

Azriel is still trying to get out – shoving at the door, teeth gritted.

“It’s no use,” Lucien says, panting. “We’re stuck.”

“No,” Azriel snarls, his knuckles already raw from pounding on the bolted door. Lucien’s nostrils flare instinctively, catching the salty-sweet scent of Azriel’s blood. “There has to be a way.”

“Give it up, Azriel,” Lucien snaps. “They don’t want us getting out, and they’ve done a hell of a job with it.”

“What they want,” Azriel responds, voice hoarse, “is for you to kill me.” He turns to Lucien, and his hazel eyes are dark. “Isn’t it?”

Lucien gives a slow nod. “I’m going to try my best not to, if that’s any consolation.”

Azriel, despite his usual icy veneer – more like a vampire than Lucien himself is – suddenly seems very human. Very… vulnerable.

Soft.

Lucien wonders idly if he would have to bite down hard to pierce Azriel’s skin, or whether it would part at a mere brush of his fangs. Wonders if he would taste as good as he smells – and looks.

“It isn’t,” Azriel says bluntly. “Not when you’re looking at me like Elain looks at the last sugar cookie.”

Lucien flushes silver and looks away. “Looks like they’ve provided for you, at least,” he says, gesturing to the cabinets. “I found food in there. Between that and the bathroom in the corner, you aren’t going to die of hunger or thirst.”

“What a relief.” Azriel goes over and turns the faucet on experimentally, then washes his hands off under the stream, killing the iron tang of blood that filled the room. “Better?”

“A bit,” Lucien admits. “You should get some sleep. I promise I won’t…” He trails off.

Azriel slumps onto the bed. “We’ll get out of this somehow.” He forces a short laugh. “Good thing you’re trapped here with me, then, don’t you think?” he says. “Imagine if you were trapped here with Elain. Much harder to resist.”

Lucien doesn’t smile back. “Yes,” he murmurs. “Lucky.”

 Lucien can’t help watching Azriel as he sleeps.

He looks tense, hard, even in slumber. He curls into a fetal position, arms wrapped around his chest, soft curls tumbling over his face.

Beautiful.

Lucien’s startled by the word, but it’s entirely accurate. Azriel is beautiful, both asleep and awake. This is not, in a way, a new thought for him; not in one sense. Lucien has always found men beautiful as well as women. He remembers being surprised to realize that some people don’t, confused as to how someone could look at a beautiful person and not find their heart beating faster, their blood warming, simply because they’re the wrong gender.

But seeing Azriel as beautiful like that… well.

Objectively, he’s recognized it from the beginning. He met the human for the first time when Azriel almost killed him. It was only the kindness of his friend Feyre – also a vampire – that prevented him from going through with it. Lucien can still feel the way the silver knife felt at his throat, Azriel’s hand so near that he could see the ripples of scar tissue that marred it.

He remembers thinking, dazedly, that Azriel had to be a vampire, that no one who looked like that – darkness and lean fury and eyes that seemed to swallow light – could possibly be human. But then he smelled the man, and no vampire ever smelled like Azriel did. Like leather, and sweat, and something sweet that burned the back of Lucien’s throat. Vanilla, perhaps, or rum, or lilies.

Azriel smells like that now.

Lucien shifts in his chair. It would be so easy. So easy to slink to the side of the bed on his cat-like feet, bend over the sleeping man, sink his fangs deep into his neck. Drink.

He stands up abruptly, paces the room. Never mind how easy it would be – he can’t. He promised himself long ago that he’d never do that to anyone. It was how he was turned – forced to watch as Jessie was drained, then pinned against a wall and writhing as they forced their poison into him.

He’s broken that vow a few times, and each weighs heavy on his heart. Each time he had no choice, and each time he left a body in his wake.

The thought of killing Azriel, of turning the living, breathing man before him into a lifeless corpse or even the facsimile of death he himself wears, of making his red blood run silver, of changing his painful, confusing, human scent into the same sickly-sweet odor that always hangs around his own kind, is enough to make his stomach turn. Lucien doesn’t want to harm him. What he wants is to reach out to him, brush the hair from his damp forehead, kiss him until his limbs uncurl and he feels safe.

There is no good ending here, no happily ever after. For they are both monsters who’ve cheated death, and it is creeping into the room to claim them.

 Lucien’s throat is burning.

It hurts, doesn’t it? He winces, twitching his head to the side fast. Too fast. He can see Azriel watching him warily out of the corner of his eye, but that’s the least of his problems. He hasn’t heard her voice in… a long time.

It’s not a good sign.

Yes, it hurts. Her voice is crooning. He can feel her long nails scratching his cheeks as she grips his face, holding him still. But it will hurt more.

That was when she ripped out his eye. Dug those steel-capped nails of hers into him and –

“Lucien?”

Lucien jerks back with a hiss before he realizes it was Azriel’s voice. He sounds equal parts wary and concerned. “I’m fine,” Lucien says shortly, unsure which is worse: the pain in his throat or the phantom pain in his face.

He healed, but nothing could bring his eye back.

“You obviously aren’t fine.” Azriel’s seated on the bed, his back against the windowless wall. The dim light reminds them of their helpless situation, but, Lucien notices, also makes Azriel into a man of shadows – dark hair and dark eyes and dark skin, all melding into a silhouette that looks barely human.

Beautiful.

Lucien swallows against the burning in his throat, then parts his lips slightly so he can breathe through them instead of through his sensitive nose. It helps, but not much. With each passing hour – each passing minute – Azriel’s scent assaults him more. It’s not unbearable, though. Not yet. Lucien clings to the faint hope that he’ll be able to endure, that he’ll be able to maintain his self-control either until they escape (whether by their own actions or a daring rescue attempt by someone else, Feyre maybe) or until he dies.

He doesn’t know if the latter’s possible. But it seems like it might be. He already feels half-dead from being in such an intimate space with Azriel for so long.

Lucien suddenly wonders whether he could even harm the other man. He doesn’t know why it didn’t occur to him before. After all, in their first encounter, Azriel was very much the one who held Lucien’s life in his hands. Lucien wouldn’t put it past the man to have a silver knife hidden somewhere on his person, in his sock or strapped to his thigh, somewhere their captors wouldn’t have thought to search. If he does, and it comes to that, Lucien hopes that he’ll use it. He would rather Azriel slit his throat, silver blood draining onto the concrete floor of their cell, than for he, Lucien, to leave the cell a free man and leave behind Azriel’s empty corpse.

He would rather Amarantha take his other eye than that.

That’s when the voice starts again.

 “No. Get away. Get the fuck away from me.”

Azriel backs up a step, hands in the air. “All right, all right. I was just seeing if I could help.”

“There’s nothing you can do to help me.” Lucien’s voice sounds raspy even to his own ears. He doesn’t know whether the sound is because his throat is truly burning – perhaps if he unclenched his teeth flames would shoot from between them – or if it’s because he’s been holding in a scream for hours now. It hurts. God, it hurts. And Azriel isn’t helping.

Lucien’s losing his mind.

Even when he closes his eyes, he can see Jessie, and Amarantha, and even his old boss, Tamlin. Taunting him. Screaming at him. Accusing him, or hurling vicious insults. He can feel Amarantha’s nails caressing his cheek, the back of Tamlin’s hand. He can see Jessie’s skin go pale and her eyes go blank. He even sees the faces of his other victims, feel how they struggled before going limp against him. A monster, they tell him, voices thin and sing-song like children’s. You’re a monster, Lucien, you always have been and you always will be.

He’s going to die before he ever gets around to killing Azriel.

 Lucien inhales deeply, the sharp-sweet scent of Azriel’s blood making his stomach tighten. He shouldn’t be breathing it in like that, but he’s too far gone to remember why. And part of him doesn’t want to remember.

“You smell so fucking good, Az.” Lucien licks his lips, slowly and thoroughly. Drunk. He’s drunk on the other man’s scent. “So good. You know that?” He takes a step towards the bed, where Azriel is sitting like a statue of oak wood and obsidian. Impenetrable. Immovable.

Lucien thinks that he hates him, and then wonders if he loves him.

Or maybe he’s just thirsty.

“I’ve been told as much before.” The indifferent response has Lucien baring his fangs as he slinks closer. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that Azriel gets to sit there, uncaring, as Lucien’s coming apart in front of him. Lucien longs to change that, longs for Azriel feel the same burning pain of want that he does. He longs to bite him – kiss him – press his body to the other man’s and draw out all that sweetness, shatter all that ice.

He wants him.

“And so pretty,” Lucien breathes. Azriel flinches away from the hand suddenly cupping his face. “You’re pretty, Az. You’re –”

Beautiful.

Lucien staggers backwards as violently as if he’d been slapped. Before him, clear as day, he sees Azriel with a frozen look of fear on his face. “I’m sorry,” Lucien rasps, shame burning through him, hotter than the pain in his throat. “God, Az, I’m so sorry –”

Azriel doesn’t respond, and Lucien, crouched as far away as possible, has somehow bought himself a little more time.

He just doesn’t know how much.

 Time has started to blur together. Lucien’s vaguely aware that it’s passing, that days must have gone by, as he observes, as through a fog, Azriel tending to his human needs:  eating food, drinking water, even leafing through a magazine their captors had thoughtfully left in the cell. His eye catalogues every one of Azriel’s movements, from the slightly pigeon-toed way he walks to every time he needs to brush his hair out of his eyes to the self-conscious way he curls up when he tries to catch some sleep. Each one of the things that makes Azriel distinctly himself.

Every time it seems to be too much, when Lucien thinks he’ll fly into a thousand pieces if he doesn’t pin Azriel down and drain every drop of blood from his body, he digs his fingernails into his palm and concentrates on these things. On all these beautiful, beautiful things that will be lost if Lucien kills him. And every time, somehow it’s enough.

He realizes (with a sick, regretful sense of triumph) that he’s done it. He’s defeated his instincts. All those times before, the humans who’ve fallen to his fangs – he didn’t know them long enough for there to be anything to latch onto besides their necks. Nothing to stay his hand. He knows he won’t attack Azriel again, now; not only did he pull away on the very edge, but he keeps doing so. The voices in his head have quieted. It’s over.

He also realizes, almost at the same time, that he’s going to die.

The idea doesn’t bother him as much as it should, he thinks. But he knew from the beginning that this was no fairy tale – that there would be no happy ending for him.

His life for Azriel’s. Not such a bad way to go.

 “You’re really not going to do it.”

“What?” Lucien struggles to hold onto the words, but they slip through his fingers. Words have become slippery things in the past hours, even to hold in his mind, unspoken. Except for one word, of course.

“You’re not going to do it. You’re not going to kill me.” Azriel’s voice is rough, and in his haze, Lucien can’t tell whether it’s with relief or frustration, confusion or awe. Perhaps some combination. Perhaps something else entirely.

“No,” Lucien murmurs, eyelids fluttering but then falling closed again. “I would as soon destroy a stained-glass window.” The word echoes through his mind again, and he wraps his mental fingers around it, desperate to stay anchored to reality for at least a few moments more.

But Azriel is silent.

Lucien wonders vaguely whether Azriel’s left before remembering that he can’t leave. Neither of them can. They tried again and again, but the door and walls remained as immovable as they were when Azriel first beat his hands bloody against them.

Then, quite unexpectedly, those same hands, rough with scars, slide around Lucien’s body. “I’m sorry,” Azriel whispers, and Lucien thinks he must be wrong, this can’t be Azriel, because this man’s voice is vulnerable – open. But who else could it be? “I should’ve done this sooner. But I was afraid.”

Lucien feels Azriel’s hands tilt him up, and then he feels something against his mouth. Something soft, and warm, and alive.

Lucien pulls his mouth away from Azriel’s neck. “No,” he murmurs. “Please. Az…”

“Bite me.” His voice takes on a harsher tone, and that would be what tells Lucien that it truly is Azriel, if the scent of leather and sweat and vanilla rum lilies hadn’t been washing over him in waves that he could ignore now, making his identity undeniable. “Lucien. Bite me.”

“I can’t.” Lucien’s voice was no more than a thread as he held onto the word. “I can’t kill you, Az.”

“And I can’t watch you die.” Azriel lifts Lucien’s mouth to his throat again, holds him there. “I trust you,” he says softly.

Beautiful, Lucien thinks, releasing the word into the darkness of his mind and the darkness of Azriel.

And he drinks.