#either way this little rascals keeps on breaking loose

[ditzyclown]

Maybe I should get a new table too (this is one of the table aprons btw)

[allegedlyanandroid]

Pairing: Allen60 Prompt: Cold Types: Found Family, Fluff AU: Angels and Demons, Sixty as the little devil he is, and Allen just being human.

I am so late 😅 I wrote an entire thing before realising I hated every word of it and started over from scratch. Anyway... excuses aside, I hope you like it @yayen-chan <3 `(‾◡◝)´ 

“Okay, bookshelves first,” Allen mutters, following the intricate maze of arrows and concrete as he tries to navigate the local IKEA. “Or rugs. That works too,” he sighs when he glances up and finds himself in the wrong part of the store. Looking through the copious amounts of different rugs Allen rapidly finds himself overwhelmed. He tries reading a few of the ridiculously complicated names, stuttering over them when trying to read them out loud. “Ra- raskmol- mölle?”  

Giving up on the fifth time trying to pronounce it correctly Allen rolls the grey-and-black striped fabric up and tosses it on the cart, already dreading trying to find the rest of the items on his list. There’s only one really but when passing through the plant-section he stops to pick up a potted plant. The other one is beyond salvaging from lack of water. “Ilex, foreeneling? För-enlig. What are these names?”  

After another dead-end and some frustrated grumbling, he does find the bookshelf he needs. Honestly… this trip alone solidifies why he’s never getting a puppy. The one he took in to foster was a sweet thing but very demanding and unaware that he weighed quite a lot for a pup. He’d knocked Allen’s bookshelf over, thus breaking it, and also had an accident on his rug. If being petless meant never having to go here again then that’s a price he’s willing to pay. At least the shelter had found a family for him quickly and, while he did miss the little rascal, the puppy was undoubtedly in better hands.  

“Kallax, hemnes... gersby?”

Too caught up in his own head he doesn't notice the strange scent of warm brimstone and ash filtering through the air nor does he notice the young “man” standing behind him, a man who seemingly appeared out of thin air, until he hears the sound of a throat clearing. Allen jerks his head up from wrestling with the cardboard box and offers an apologetic smile over his shoulder. “I’ll be done in a minute.”

“Or, you could tell me why I’m here and spare me the mundane small talk you humans seem so obnoxiously fond of.”

“I’m sorry?”

The man squints. “You summoned me.”

Allen pauses to take a good look at the man. He’s tall with black, artistically tousled hair and endless amounts of freckles. A few moles are scattered across his skin and his brown eyes are filled with irritation. Dark jeans with a long-sleeved shirt tucked into it, a black overcoat ending at about mid-thigh and a purple scarf hanging unknotted around his neck. Allen thinks long and hard yet finds no recollection of ever seeing this man before in his life let alone speaking to him. “I have no idea who you are.”

“You-” the man pinches the bridge of his nose, inhales deeply and slowly let it out before starting again. “You read the incantation to evoke me and you what… didn’t even realise it?” he asks and receives nothing but a blank stare from Allen in return. “Ugh, humans.”

In the blink of an eye the man transforms. Horns curve with the shape of his skull, producing from close to his temples, before ending in sharp tips that blend in with his raven hair. A black tail is wrapped around his leg which ends with a jagged spear-like point. The tips of his fingers look like they’ve been dipped in charcoal, fading into dark grey about halfway up his fingers, with claw-like black nails top it all off. They tap against the metal shelf next to them as the demon slowly advances.  

Too shocked to move, Allen’s jaw is taken in a firm grip and when the demon smiles his teeth are pointed blades. “So… are you going to tell me what it is you want?”

“You can let go of my face for a start,” Allen says, adding a quick “thank you,” when the demon does as he’s told. “What’s your name?”

“You may call me Sixty.”

“Sixty,” Allen repeats. “No offence but I quite like having my soul intact. I’m sorry for dragging you from… whatever circle of hell you reside in, but I’m not interested in making any sort of deal with you.”

“Sucks to be you then because I’m not leaving until you do,” Sixty says and from his tone of voice alone Allen knows he’s a hundred percent serious.  

‘Fucking IKEA.’

-

“Really? You couldn’t have chosen to live somewhere a bit warmer?” Sixty asks with disdain, thankfully back to looking human. His feet sink into the four inches worth of snow dusting the ground and he can already feel the cold seeping in through the gaps in his clothing. “Or somewhere nicer in general.”

“No one’s forcing you to stay.”

“No one’s forcing you to live here.” A pause. “Or if they are, I am more than willing to kill them for you free of charge.”  

Allen sighs.

-

Having a demon for a housemate isn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Sixty mostly keeps to himself whenever he isn’t trying to get a rise out of him or complaining about the cold or putting things on tall shelves like the little shit he is. Until Sixty gets bored that is.

Because when Sixty gets bored trouble ensues.  

-

Emerging from his office after a long day of meetings to see his demonic housemate casually chatting with parts of his team in the breakroom is a bit out of left field and the sight of Sixty’s mischievous eyes boring into his own is enough to quicken his pace. “What are you doing here, Si- Silas?” he asks, forcing a smile on his face.

He hates how no one else can look past the innocent brown eyes and syrupy grin to see the smugness beneath. “I thought we were supposed to eat lunch together? Did you forget?”

“No, of course not,” Allen hastens to say, ignoring Willis and Clark’s knowing grins, as he wracks his brain for a response. “Though I distinctly remember asking you to wait outside.”

“It would have been rude of me to decline Julie’s offer of getting coffee,” Sixty replies and raises his mug as if to show it off.

“No need to be jealous, boss. We just wanted to get to know the guy better,” Julie says.

“Yeah, it’s not like we’ve ever seen you hang out with anyone outside of work apart from Reed,” Clark pipes up. “We got curious.”

“I’m not jealous!” Allen tries to defend himself, latching on to the word, but the agitated tone does nothing to help his case. Sixty smirking behind the rim of the coffee cup like a cat who got the cream isn’t helping to improve his mood either.

“You are the pettiest asshole I’ve ever had the unfortunate luck of meeting,” Allen says when they’re safely away from prying eyes.

Sixty snickers, knowing full well the amount of endless curiosity and ceaseless questions he’s unleashed on the human. “There’s an easy way to get rid of me.”

The fistful of snow he gets shoved in his face shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

By the time he manages to blink the melting snow out of his eyes Allen is too far away to retaliate, though that doesn’t stop Sixty from trying.  

-

Despite his best efforts Sixty’s irritation with being unceremoniously dragged into the mortal plane dissipates after the third week of staying with Allen. By the time he’s been there for a month and a half, Allen’s team have adopted him as one of their own and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t flattered. They genuinely care about his well-being and often invite him along on outings. As someone whose family is… overbearing, their light-hearted ribbing is a nice change of pace. Their easy dynamic is the very opposite of stifling. No one ever pries when he declines to answer a question. No one touches him after he made it clear he dislikes physical contact. No one quizzes him about his every movement.

It’s… nice.

The next team building exercise and subsequent photo op, proudly displayed on the communal fridge, includes him and Sixty doesn’t cry even a little bit upon seeing that.  

Not at all.

-

In the end, the shift in their relationship is near seamless ‒ from reluctant roommates to friends to something more.  

What hits him first is the metallic scent of fresh blood and Sixty is halfway across the room before he can even process rising to his feet. He gathers Allen up in his arms and leads him to sit down on one of the kitchen chairs. Part of his dark shirt is tacky with blood and Sixty feels no remorse when he shreds it to get it off as quickly as possible. Something, a bullet or knife, must have grazed his side. It’s bleeding sluggishly though it thankfully isn’t deep. Sixty takes the ruined shirt and presses it against the wound. “Keep putting pressure on it.”

Allen doesn’t answer and in the end he’s the one who has to move Allen’s hand to take over while he dashes to the bathroom for the medkit. Sixty plunks it down on the floor and fills a bowl of lukewarm water to put down beside it before fetching a clean towel. He kneels down between Allen’s legs and cleans meticulously around the area, noting the patches of skin where bruises are slowly forming. Swiping over the wound with antiseptic earns him a bitten-off hiss and Sixty puts a hand on Allen’s sternum to steady him after the first involuntary flinch.  

He keeps it there, soothed by feeling the steady thrum of Allen’s heartbeat beneath his fingertips, until he needs the use of both his hands. In its absence, Sixty’s tail comes up to wrap loosely around his thigh for comfort.  

Butterfly bandages instead of sutures, his tail instead of his hand. Allen doesn’t say a word about either choice though he is smiling down where they’re connected once Sixty chances a quick peek.

There’s nothing left for him to do after covering the wound with gauze, taping the edges down, yet Sixty finds himself lingering there regardless.  

It’s easy to trace around the gauze with the very tip of a claw and when he catches Allen’s dark eyes the urge to lean down to place a gentle kiss over it wins out. Allen sighs quietly and coaxes Sixty up to kiss him properly ‒ a chaste press of lips against lips followed by a sincere thank you.  

Sixty blushes and knocks his forehead against Allen’s, mindful of his horns, in a silent show of affection.

-

“Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“Because I literally stepped in the door a second ago?” Allen laughs and pulls Sixty in for a quick kiss.

“Excuses,” Sixty sniffs and steals another kiss, one that quickly devolves into a dozen pecks being pressed all over his face until Allen plants a last lingering one to his lips.

“I love you,” Allen says when they break apart for real.  

The shy smile spreading over Sixty’s lips is one he’ll never tire of seeing.

[ofhoneyandrosepetals]

Bright as Red [2]

Pairing: Yata Misaki x reader

Description: Reader is left on the streets in a severe situation, being found by Totsuka Tatara, who gets to himself the responsability to help and heal the girl in HOMRA’s headquarters. When she wakes up, she’s led by the wanting to seek for revenge, going after who’s hurt her.

Warnings: swears and mentions of possible r*pe.

Word count: 2,750.

That afternoon the headquarters was silent - not even Kusanagi was behind the bar, taking care of his beloved belongings.

Y/N was sitting on the leather couch as she tied her shoelaces. Yata Misaki had just entered the building, skateboard on hands, when she got up and crossed eyes with him. Curious, the boy asked, not wanting to sound rude:

“Where you think you’re going?”

She hesitated before answering, passing her weight to one feet to the other.

“Home,” Yata’s brows furrowed, and before he could ask anything else she added: “Kinda. I can’t use your clothes forever,” she gestured vaguely to her own body, still using Yata’s shirt and shorts, a bit loose on her.

“I thought you said your house was attacked,” his brows were furrowed more than ever, his hand gripping tightly to his skateboard. 

“It was.”

“And you intend to go there alone? All by yourself?”

The boy sounded not only angry, but a little worried, Y/N thought.

“I can’t ask anyone to go with me.”

“Of course you can. You’re one of us now.”

“I didn’t mean that,” she smiled just a bit. “The bar is empty,” she shrugged.

“Oh,” Yata lost arguments. “In that case, couldn’t you wait?”

She took a deep breath and sat back on the couch, hands passing through her hair. 

“I need to go there. I need to see… what left. If anything.”

Yata didn’t understand any of that, his life before HOMRA being way too different than hers, but he thought that she wasn’t being inconsequent, at least not entirely. It was understandable. Except the part for going alone. That was stupid.

“As far as I understand, that place is still dangerous for you to go, let’s say alone. C’mon, I’ll go with you,” he said before she even opened her mouth. Yata got his baseball bat and looked at her by the door, as if saying you coming?

She smiled - causing him to blush - and followed him. Even though Yata had his skateboard, it remained on his hands.

Y/N led the path to her house, the silence between them very much palpable, although it didn’t seem to bother the girl. She had her hands on tight fists, her jaws clenched. Yata could only wonder how she felt - angry? Sad? Nervous? All three of them? He didn’t know what to do nor what to say, so he just stood behind her, following as she turned street after street.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t want nothing to happen while they were at her house. It was a dangerous location at the moment, but he had hopes that whoever attacked her, they would be there, so he could kick the shit out of their bastard ass.

What kind of person would hurt a girl that bad? The memory of her being carried inside the bar by Totsuka still haunted Yata’s thoughts, all the blood and dirt and ripped clothes. He only hopped for the ripped clothes to mean nothing else like he was imagining. He thought that, if it was the case, she would’ve said, right? She wouldn’t be hanging around with all of them, with all those men.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said upfront, as if reading his mind. He swallowed. “It’s written in all your faces, the doubt. Don’t worry, Yata-san,” she turned her head to look at him, and Yata’s heart raced at the sufixe on his name leaving her mouth.

“Good,” was his only response as he gripped his hand tighter to his skateboard and baseball bat. “But that doesn’t mean they’re impune on that.”

“No. They’re not,” she said, impassive. “It’s here.”

Y/N stopped at the front gates, the house behind it being very beautiful.

Besides the fact that was a damn mess. 

“Were you here? When this happened, I mean,” Yata asked.

She hadn’t told that part of the story, not yet.

“I was. My mom told me to hide, but when I saw that…”she closed her eyes. “When I saw that it was useless, after…”

Yata froze in place, not knowing what to do.

“I know,” he said, saving her to say the words, or anything like it.

“So I ran. I know it might look like that this was useless too, but maybe this is what saved my life.”

He nodded once.

“Because of that Totsuka-san saw you. Saved you. It wasn’t useless. It was a good call,” he gestured his head towards the house. “Ready when you are.”

She opened the gates and entered the property without ceremonies, Yata right behind her.

“Let me,” he said before she could open the front door. Y/N stared at Yata for a moment before nodding one time, giving him space.

With the bat he opened the door slowly, taking a peek inside. It was dark and a mess. The furniture was broken and scattered all around, papers being the new floor. Yata tried to switch the light on.

“I think the energy was cut.”

“Or destroyed. The wires, I mean.”

Yata entered, followed by Y/N. She took a look around, devastated.

“I didn’t know… it looked that bad.”

“Were they looking for anything specific?” Yata poked the mess on the floor with his bat.

“I don’t know. I mean, clearly they were - are -, but I don’t know what it is.”

“I don’t understand why this happened. All you said is that you and your parents were attacked.”

“I don’t understand much of it either, I never knew something was up until that day. All I know is that this creepy guy came in, prying up the gates and door, screaming for something,” Y/N got on her knees and moved a piece of furniture - or what left of it - away from the wall, revealing a vent. With her fingers and nails she tried to open it, failing.

It took Yata only a movement of his hand to open the small vent with his Red Aura.

“You gotta learn how to use your powers now.”

“It’s been less than a day. Cut me some slack,” she gave him a small smile and put her hand inside the vent, taking out some money. She continued to tell the story as more money came out. “That piece of shit came in, already breaking everything and asking ‘where is it?’ as some demand. Fuck, I wish I knew what ‘it’ is. I don’t even know what my father had gotten himself into.”

“You’re here to find this out,” Yata stated as Y/N got up, money in hands. She nodded.

The next thing she did was go upstairs, to what Yata thought was her room. Shy, he stood by the door as he waited for her to gather what she wanted. She came back with two backpacks, one full of what he assumed was her clothes and the other for whatever she was looking for. The money was in there.

“I need to go to my parent's room,” she said seriously.

“Okay.”

“I can’t do this alone.”

“Oh…”

Yata froze once again, chewing the inside of his cheeks. Of course that he nodded to her, what else could he possibly do? Let her go alone in there? In front of the door she froze, hands halfway to the doorknob. Yata opened it for her with his power. She gave him a thankful look.

He could hear when she stopped breathing, taking all in.

The room was just as a mess as the rest of the house, but he understood why Y/N would be all shaken up. Her parents just died, she was all alone in this world and to see this place looking like this…

It wasn’t easy, he wondered. With shaky hands and a racing heart, Yata placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, making her tremble by surprise. It felt like his touch gave her the strength that she needed, because a second later she was already moving around the room.

Yata moved along, taking a peek here and there, not really knowing what to look for - or what he was looking at.

“I’m looking for my dad’s computer, or my mom’s. Any computer, really, hoping that no one got it first.”

“Got it.”

Yata started looking at the dresser, ignoring the underwear with a deep heat blush as he found a key.

“Oi,” he called, both of them turning at each other. He tossed the key at Y/N, who got it midair. “Nice catch,” he said with a rascal smile.

Y/N examined the key carefully.

“I’ve got no idea what this opens,” she said while turning the key between her fingers.

“Guess we gotta try to open every damn thing to find out,” and there it was again, that rascal smile.

“So let’s try to open every damn thing,” she answered with the same smile on her lips.

“We should try my dad’s office,” Y/N said after a failed search at her parent's room. She didn’t want to take anything from there, or at least Yata didn’t see it. As they stepped in the room, Yata pointed at the computer on the desk.

“That computer, you meant?” He had a funny look on his face.

“Of course not,” she said calmly. “Although I could take the hard drive off to take a look later, but I have the feeling that there’s nothing in it.”

“Considering everything, yeah,” Yata opened every drawer and door.

“With your power we don’t need this key to open whatever’s closed, but that surely gave us the idea to look for something hidden.”

“I don’t know, the first thing you did when you got here was to pry open a vent and take money. I think you would find something that was hidden in some closed drawer or whatever.”

“Good point,” she smiled.

Yata’s phone started ringing and he answered.

“Yatagarasu here.”

“Yatagarasu?” Y/N let out a little giggle.

“Ah, Kusanagi-san. She’s with me. I-I’m with her, I mean. She…”

Y/N was nodding furiously. Don’t tell him!

“She needed fresh air. To think. I’m keeping her company, making sure nothing happens. Okay. Got it.”

“Thank you for not telling anything.”

“That’s not good. If they ever find this out, I’m dead meat.”

They continued their search, Yata being faster than ever. “After that call I think we should speed things up a lil’ bit.”

“I have an idea.” Y/N started to toss all the books from the bookshelves to the floor in a speed up race. “Help me!” And so Yata did it. After all the bookshelves were clean, he asked: “What now?”

“Now we look for fakes.”

“Fakes?”

As an answer, Y/N started knocking on the wall, trying to hear if anything sounded like there was a space behind it.

“It sounds weird here,” Yata said, knocking the same spot multiple times. Y/N nodded to him, giving permission to use his power there.

“But be careful. We don’t want to fuck up anything in there.”

“‘Course.”

A rash of red flames burst out of Yata towards the spot in the bookshelf, opening a hole up. The edges were still burning when Y/N stretched out her arm and looked for whatever was inside there.

“A velvet purse,” she said before opening it.

“Are those…?”

“Computer parts,” Y/N finished. “A hard drive. Two, actually. I’m gonna take the one in the computer as well. It’ll only take a moment.”

“No rush,” Yata said as he turned around, wondering if they should look for more.

“I think we can call it a day. Just do these last honors, would ya?”

Y/N was kneeled by a vent, giving Yata a sassy smile.

“Sure thing,” he quickly opened the vent and Y/N grabbed a handful of money. When she got up he noticed her stare at him. “What?”

She was actually staring at what he had on his hands, his skateboard and bat. 

“My dad had…” she pointed with her chin at his bat. “My dad had one autographed by his favorite player. I would like to take that with me.”

“Where is it?”

“It was supposed to be here.”

“Let’s go look for it. Maybe it’s still here.”

Yata’s determination in helping Y/N surely gave her the strength that she needed to not start running away from her house, scared by her feelings and by the state of the property. What was she thinking? She could’ve never go there alone. She wouldn’t make it. Not by herself.

“I’ll look here and you there. Let’s make it quick,” she told him.

After some time of looking through the mess she finally found it, her dad’s aluminum metal baseball bat, signed by his favorite player. For a moment she didn’t have the guts to take it, to merely touch it - the hell with it, she couldn’t even look at it without threatening tears. She sobbed as she kneeled in front of it, dropped carelessly on the floor. As if it was used and then discarded.

Yata was seeing all of that from the corner, not wanting to let her know that he could see her; but considering how good she was to say all the right things in the right time, he had no doubts that she knew he was there, looking.

It was heartbreaking, the whole thing.

Her sobs bursting out of her made Yata want to do something, anything, to make her feel better. A thing like this should never happen to a girl. And she was so smart, so self-reliant…

“Did you really look everywhere?”

Y/N immediately turned to where the strange voice came from, and Yata didn’t give a shit anymore if she knew he was looking at her crying. Both of them stood there, frozen and quiet. Even her breath was calculated. 

The outsider steps were fading away - whoever was there, they were probably going to the office. Thank goodness Yata and Y/N had just left there, taking anything important with them.

With the most silent steps Yata has ever heard, Y/N got up, her dad’s bat in hand and both backpacks on each of her shoulders.

She said silently “the garage” and Yata followed her. Once there - no car at sight - she started looking for something, with a mixture of most silent and quickness she could pull up. She let out a happy sigh when she found whatever she was looking for. Yata turned to see her putting on roller skates. 

Something lit up inside the boy, a new and therefore unknown sensation. He quickly shrugged it off - there was no time for new feelings, not now.

“We gotta go,” Y/N said in a rush, getting up on her roller skates.

Yata stood where he was, anger flowing through him, getting into his bloodstream, making his Red Aura make a casual appearance. He tightly gripped his bat.

“Was it them?’ It was all he asked.

“I don’t know. The voices sounded different, plus I think the guy who attacked me isn’t here.”

“But they surely are with him,” it was taking all of Yata’s strength to not go after those bastards and give them hell. 

“There’s no time for it. We gotta go. Now,” when she saw that Yata wasn’t moving, his Red Aura getting darker and stronger, she continued talking. “Don’t you think I don’t wanna do something, too? I do! But that’s not the right time. I can’t take the risk of losing the hard drives.”

His aura gave up a little bit, but he was still not moving.

“Yata-san, please,” his jaw clenched. “Please.”

“Lemme take one backpack,” he held out his hand. She tossed him one.

“Let’s be quiet until we’re at a safe distance.”

Yata was amazed by her ability to tiptoe on those roller skates, being able to not emit a single sound. Outside the garage, in the backyard, Y/N looked back at her house. “I don’t think I’ll be coming back here again.” He could only give her a sympathizing look.

“What about the key?” He asked.

“I don’t think it matters anymore. Let’s bet on a race to HOMRA,” she said, a smile on her lips washing away any sadness. Before Yata could agree, still putting her backpack on his shoulders, she was already skating away, getting an advantage.

“Oi!” He shouted when he was already on the streets. “Wait up! That’s not fair!” He complained as the air gave him her laugh as a response. 

[moonchildsaurora]

Before the sun is rising up

✤ knight!Jongho x knight!reader ✤ genre: royal AU // angst, fluff (if you squint) ✤ t/w: sfw, non-descriptive battle fight, sad reacts only, rated PG ✤ count: 1.6k ✤ [ part 1 ] of Lacuna miniseries  

a/n - o m f g it’s finally done. . .well overdue one shot for our precious maknae & the 1st of 8 parts for my new miniseries! Here I was thinking that it’ll be a more condensed piece, but yet again my mind decided to be loud. Perhaps I’ll be able to reign it in a bit more with the others (who am I kidding really tho). I hope I wrote well enough for Jongho’s character, even though it still feels slightly rushed. Thanks to @a-tiny-8iny for insightful convos which gave me the idea of considering the focus around platonic bonds too (which honestly gave me a plotline I was much happier with)! Also @hereisleo @monbae @s1ardusk @barsformars I remember yelling bout this series idea to you guys ages ago and here we are 💙  

It was rare for a champion knight to be able to bask in serenity, especially on the eve of the final battle. The kingdoms of Rivaria and Nethilor have long been at war with one another, what once was a united empire now torn apart from betrayal and greed. There simply wasn’t room for two powers to rule, and so by the time the sun rises tomorrow, only one will be left standing triumphantly. How twisted fate must be, to have childhood friends who had endlessly supported one another since their gruelling training days when they were mere squires only to end up serving royalties of opposite sides.

The cooling night breeze played around with your hair as your legs dangled freely over the cliff’s edge where you sat waiting patiently for him. You leaned back on your arms, hands gently curling into the slightly damp but still soft grass and face tilted up towards the star-lit skies. The moon was out in full tonight, somehow knowing it may be the very last time it could greet you.

Your ears managed to pick up the familiar sound of steady footsteps from behind, without turning around and a grin already forming on your lips.

“And here I thought you’d best me in arriving first for once, Sir Choi” you said, trying to hold back a chuckle.

The sound of metal clinking against another indicated that he had let his sword, Shadowmist, rest against the tree next to your Windsong. Forged by the same swordsmith, intended to be wield together as a complementary pair.

“My deepest apologies, had to use the good ol’ distraction to sneak past the night guards of my own camp.”

“How rebellious of you.”

Jongho gave a playful shove to your shoulder as he sat down next to you, an immediate comforting warmth radiated off him. You noticed that he was in his casual tunic, the soft linen matching your own one. It’s almost a foreign sight to you considering how used you are seeing one another in the heavy metal of armour rather than something more care-free.  

Just as you were about to ask how long he had before his troops would start noticing their own commander’s absence, a bundle was unceremoniously dropped on your lap.

“And pray tell, what is this?”

Your fingers fiddled with the thin leather cord that wrapped around the cloth, managing to unwrap the cover and your eyes crinkled with glee immediately upon seeing the contents inside.

“I made my squire swear not to tell the others that I was stealing extras for my supposed woodland friends,” a dramatic sigh escaped Jongho.

That caused you to burst out laughing, “You mean to say that the great leader of the Nethilorian army secretly befriends little creatures?”

“I always did say that your resemblance to that of a raccoon is uncanny.”

Now it was your turn to shove him, though you had to admit that his cover-up reasons were ridiculously endearing. “I wonder how your squire puts up with you at times, must be confusing for the poor lad.”

“What will it take for you to express your gratitude without mocking my pride?”

“Fortunately for you, I may be more inclined to accept certain incentives at times…” and picking up a Goldhorn biscuit, you held it towards Jongho, “Truce?”

Instead of taking the biscuit with his fingers he proceeded to bite down lightly, stealing it right out of your hold.

“You fiend!”

“Now we can have a truce.”

You purposely wiped your fingers on his tunic, earning a protest from him before tasting one of the sweet treats for yourself. These were the biscuits that you and Jongho used to eat regularly as children, the same honeyed taste bringing back fond memories. A fleeting image of your parents and home came to mind, the echoes of childish laughter and, “Watch where you’re running you two little rascals!”

“Remember that time you chased me with your mother’s rolling pin and it got us in so much trouble?”

You turned to look at Jongho, still to this day you haven’t quite figured out how he always seem to be on the same wavelength as you. Another biscuit was popped into your mouth before you replied, “Only because you not so accidentally spilled the rest of my potato stew.” That particular memory managed to coax a smile out of you, silently apologising to your parents for being the cause of their grey hairs.

A comfortable silence settled, the little fireflies were coming out to dance and the night breeze was still calm as before. From where the both of you sat on the cliff, the view of the valley was magnificent. It was a pleasant surprise that you discovered this hidden spot during the training camp and it became yours and Jongho’s meeting place ever since.

“I’m going to miss this.”

You could feel your heart clenching at his words, knowing full well what he meant. Setting the food down, you shuffled around a bit so you could retrieve something from your pocket. Dangling the two silver chains right in front of Jongho seem to break him out of whatever nostalgia trance he was in.

He blinked owlishly at the pendants, each holding an athesotile gem. You gave his one over and Jongho observed the iridescent glow it had under the moonlight.

“You sure know how to make a man feel special,” said Jongho as he teasingly held a hand over his heart .

“Had it been a confession token, sure. Unfortunately for you it’s only a lucky charm.”

“Trust you to still believe in that old tale,” he chuckled as he looped the pendant around his neck. This particular gem was sought after in the past for supposedly bringing great luck or so it has been old across generations by your elders. You had found these pendants as you were passing through the major town of Millbelle after a successful patrol.

“I’d trust in anything that will bring us hope at this point.”

The breeze picked up a little bit, rustling the trees around as if it became restless at your words. You really hadn’t mean to dampen the mood but reality was starting to sink heavily on your entire being. Anger and fear both seeped in, for being placed in such a predicament – you didn’t even get to bid your family a proper farewell with how fast war was declared. Your hands gripped the pendant tightly as you forced the choked sobs back down, though the corners of your eyes had tears already gathering.

“I’m terrified Jongho. I don’t want either of us to –“

“Hey now, are you forgetting something?” Even if he holds his gaze so strongly, you could still feel the slight trembles in his hands that interlocked with yours as he spoke.

“What do you mean?”

“You remember when I said I’ll be with you till the end?” His thumb caught a stray tear and wiped it gently from your face, “I intend to follow that through.”

A million and one thoughts ran through your head as you looked at him, endlessly thanking the gods above for blessing you with Choi Jongho. Though death lingered over yourselves, knowing that you wouldn’t have to face it alone eased your soul that little bit more.

With a wet laugh you leaned into his touch, “I won’t hold back if you don’t either.”

Jongho stood up from his previous seating spot, pulling you up with him. You watched as he made his way over to the swords and retrieved them both, quickly using the sleeves of your tunic to dry your eyes before Jongho held Windsong out towards you for the taking.

Tilting your head to the side with a silent question that you only got an answer to after Jongho unsheathed Shadowmist. He directed the blade to be pointing at you, no hostility behind the action, just a determined glint in his dark eyes and a solemn nod of his head.

With the moon as a witness, a final oath was made by the crossing of swords.

The thundering of hooves and roars of the cavalries were enough to shake the land, as the Rivarians fearlessly gave their war cry. The grip on your mount’s reins was painfully tight as you stood observing the enemy ranks across the battle field. Dawn was upon you, the rosy hues of red and orange matched the accents on your silver suit of armour. It was a harsh contrast to the striking black and gold that the Nethilorian army wore.

Another war horn sounded, this time from the other side and your jaw clenched with tension as you watched Jongho lead the charge down the hill.

“Leave the Commander to me, cover the flanks and keep your formations in order,” your voice resonated with finality as you addressed your elite guards.

“Archers! At the ready!”

A wave of a flag with a griffin, your kingdom’s emblem, embroidered on it signalled a rain of arrows to be let loose. You couldn’t tell how long you held your breath for as you watch the arrows land around Jongho’s charging form, his soldiers bringing up their sturdy shields as protection. Relief ran through you as the arrows took out the slower foot soldiers around him instead.

Shadowmist was raised high and proud, equally deafening war cries echoed in multitude getting closer and closer to your side. You drew out Windsong and walked your mount towards the front lines.

“We ride…for honour,” the visor of your helmet was flipped down, “…for the safety of our people….for our lives.” You kicked your mount into a gallop with your riders following your lead, raising their spears and swords.

“FOR RIVARIA!”

Ironically everything seemed to slow down as you faced head on towards Jongho. Even the noise have become muffled, all you could focus on was your breathing within the helmet. Your eyes never wavered from his figure and when his mount stormed faster ahead of the rest, you matched his change in pace as well.  

“To thee I swear this oath, only by your blade will…”

As the first ray of light pierced over the horizon, the waking sun was greeted with the resounding clash of two blades; and the mourning for two loyal hearts.  

“…we meet once again at the elysian fields, my dearest friend.”

[onceuponaloonatic]

sorry this took a while it’s been difficult to motivate myself to do much with school :(  also sorry it’s so much shorter this is was all I could really finish tonight before i fell asleep :( also this is before hansol came out !!

tw: mentions of child abuse (specifically by men to little girls) ptsd, night terrors, etc...

Deciding to adopt Seoyun hadn’t been something Jeongyeon and Dahyun had really talked about too much before they did it. Seoyun was young and scared and would need a lot of care and attention for her to break habits engraved into her from her entire lifetime of abuse and they already had two kids waiting for them at home. But that first time they met her, a tiny girl buried in a loose fitting old jacket that looked like it had never been washed, they knew they weren’t going to let go. 

Everyone had been a bit confused when they announced they wanted to foster. Both already had two beautiful kids whom they loved very much, it was odd to others that they would want to suddenly foster a child. But to Jeongyeon and Dahyun, it wasn’t odd at all. They had seen where Haneul and Jae had come from, and it had hurt both of them so much to know kids lived like that every day. Of course they loved their kids, Hansol and Jeongho were already so perfect for them and they knew they would do anything for either of them, but they wanted to help a kid out too. 

And then Seoyun came into their life. She had the same social worker as Haneul and Jae, and when she had tried to call Nayeon and Momo and have them take Seoyun in for a little bit until they could find her a more temporary placement, the two had to say no. Kazumi was at a rambunctious age and the twins were still in pretty fragile places. However, instead of turning their backs on Seoyun, they connected the social worker to Jeongyeon and Dahyun. They were only supposed to keep her for a few days, but a few days had quickly turned into a few weeks, then a few months, and eventually forever. Honestly, Jeongyeon and Dahyun had no idea how difficult adding Seoyun to their family was going to be. Of course they loved her, and they always thought it was worth it, but it was so difficult. More than either of them could have predicted. She had ups and down. Some days she was better, and others she was worse. On her down days there were times where even just being around Jeongyeon would stress her out, and Dahyun would have to spend her time staying with Seoyun and keeping her calm. Jeongyeon had always been the stricter parent, and while it was more beneficial to all the kids in the long run, it had terrified Seoyun for a while. 

She always tried to be patient with the girl though. The last thing she wanted was for Seoyun to be afraid of her. Even if everything in Jeongyeon was screaming not to be gentle and to just lecture her or punish her just like she did with her older two kids, she always stayed sane. Seoyun wasn’t like the other kids. She had been hurt before, and Jeongyeon and Dahyun wanted more than anything to keep that from happening again. 

But there were times when Seoyun made it so incredibly difficult.

“I don’t want to go to school.” Jeongyeon sighed as she looked at her daughter. Seoyun had been with them for a few years now and had become much more comfortable expressing what she wanted, for better or for worse. Honestly Jeongyeon was really happy Seoyun was able to be more open with them, even if there were times it would annoy her she was really happy with the progress Seoyun had made. “Seoyun you have to go to school.” Jeongyeon rolled her eyes, putting Hansol and Jeongho’s lunches in their backpacks. Seoyun was hugging her backpack tightly, standing in the kitchen in her favorite pair of purple pajamas. “Go get your siblings. We need to go.” “No.” Seoyun pouted. When she wanted, the girl could throw big fits. Jeongyeon supposed this was better than when Seoyun was terrified to tell them what she wanted, but it really wasn’t easy. Seoyun’s therapist had said she would have difficult moments. She said there was usually something causing her difficult moments, and instead of frustrating themselves trying to get her to do something finding the trigger would be much more effective. Jeongyoen knew this was one of these moments, so she was trying to stay calm. 

“Good morning my loves.” Dahyun had a huge smile on as she came into the kitchen. “Woah, why are you both so grumpy?” “Seoyun doesn’t want to go to school.” Jeongyeon sighed. Really they had been lucky so far. Neither of their older kids had ever done something like this. Jeongho always loved going to school and Hansol could be convinced to go anywhere if Emi was going to be there. Seoyun had never done anything like this before, and Jeongyeon knew keeping her patience was paramount right now. “You don’t?” Dahyun went up to Seoyun and offered her a hug. Seoyun had always been weird about affection. She only liked it if she was the one to initiate. Of course she liked hugs like this in the morning, especially if they were from Dahyun or Hansol, but she wanted to have the control to say no to them if she wanted. 

“No.” Seoyun had always loved Dahyun. She always talked about how good she was at hugging and how nice Dahyun was. Jeongyeon had been a little jealous at first, but she had come to realize Seoyun loved her just as much. She wasn’t as vocal about it, but Jeongyeon could see it in the ways that Seoyun had let them into her life. If she needed advice, Jeongyeon was always the first place Seoyun went. She trusted Jeongyeon with that kind of stuff, more than she trusted anyone else. She opened up to Jeongyeon about her life before they got involved in it, about the insane things people would do to her before they adopted her. It was difficult, and listening to it hurt Jeongyeon, but she listened the best she could and would always try her best to help Seoyun through her emotions. When Seoyun’s birth parents had been on trial, Jeongyeon had been the one to testify for her. Seoyun was supposed to testify herself, but Jeongyeon had stopped that by saying she would tell the court everything Seoyun had told her. She had seen the fear in Seoyun’s eyes when the lawyers had tried to talk to her, and she had done everything to protect her from that fear. She knew Seoyun would just be more traumatized if they made her testify, and Jeongyeon was sure they wouldn’t have been able to get the conviction they did if Seoyun had been the one to testify. She didn’t open up easily, and there was a good chance she would have left things out, especially since her birth parents were there. Jeongyeon was the protector while Dahyun was the comforter. That’s how Seoyun saw them. And Jeongyeon really didn’t complain about it. She liked being the protector. “Don’t wanna.” “But you have to baby.” Dahyun informed as she held Seoyun tighter. “Don’t wanna.” Seoyun insisted again. “School is dumb.” “Seoyun sweetheart don’t say that.” Jeongyeon sighed. “How about you eat a little and then we can talk about this a little more.” Seoyun was still wrapped in Dahyun’s arms, and it was clear she didn’t want to leave. She snuggled closer to Dahyun, ignoring Jeongyeon as she hugged her other mother. “Come on Seoyunie, you can go wake up Hansol if you want.” Seoyun seemed excited at that, jumping out of Dahyun’s arms. “Really?” “Go ahead sweetheart.” Seoyun smiled at Dahyun’s permission and ran off, leaving both of her mothers alone for a minute. Dahyun went over to Jeongyeon and gave her a small kiss as a morning greeting. “Don’t try to convince me to let her stay home.” Jeongyoen warned when Dahyun pulled her into a second kiss. “You're going to spoil her.” “One day shouldn’t hurt. Plus I will be working from home today so it works out.” Dahyun pouted. “I don’t see the harm in one day. We all have our off days when we don’t want to be productive.” “I know that, but if we let her do this once she’s just going to keep doing it over and over again until she never goes to school anymore.” Jeongyeon sighed, her arms slipping around Dahyun’s waist. “Babe she had a meeting with her therapist yesterday, you know those can be hard for her sometimes. Even if she seemed fine yesterday that doesn’t mean she is fine now. She could have had another nightmare…” Seoyun had always had terrible nightmares. Sometimes they would be so violent they would wake the entire household, but others they were much quieter. They wouldn’t even know Seoyun would have one until the next morning. When she was little she used to cry when she saw them in the morning, but she had stopped doing that recently. It was a lot harder to tell when she had a bad dream now. “But- Dahyun you are spoiling her.” Jeongyeon sighed. “Let’s just agree to see how she is at breakfast. If she seems off she can stay home, but if she seems fine she is going.” Dahyun offered, raining kisses on Jeongyoen’s cheeks. “You always know how to get your way.” Jeongyeon rolled her eyes as butterfly kisses were placed along her collarbone. “I’m pretty good at it.” Dahyun giggled.

“Fine.” Jeongyeon sighed, her arms dropping to her sides as she pulled away from her wife. “You're so persuasive sometimes.” “I know.” Dahyun continued giggling. After being married for almost sixteen years now, she knew her wife pretty well. And she knew the second she brought up nightmares Jeongyoen had become worried about Seoyun. Jeongyeon would always worry so much about the kids. Dahyun had always found  it so cute. “Mom!” Seoyun squealed as she came into the living room. Hansol was carrying her, swinging the girl like she was a sack of potatoes. “Good morning Hansol.” Dahyun smiled and kissed Hansol’s forehead. “Is your brother awake yet?” “Yeah he’s in the bathroom.” Hansol nodded, putting Seoyun down. The girl continued giggling as Hansol ruffled her hair. “This little rascal wouldn’t let me get in before him.” “Mom told me to wake you up.” Seoyun commented, going over to the kitchen table and sitting down. Jeongyeon sighed in relief over the fact that Seoyun had sat down at the table and that she seemed to be in a better mood.

“Uh-huh. Whatever. I’m going to go bang on the door until he is done.” Hansol announced, leaving before any of them could try to stop it. “Kids.” Jeongyeon muttered under her breath. “Sharing a bathroom seems annoying.” Jeongyeon exhaled in relief when Seoyun started to eat a bite of her toast. “Why don’t I have to?” “Because you got lucky.” That wasn’t the only reason. When Seoyun was little, she was so terrified of men she would hide behind one of their legs when they were out in public. It was so bad, she had had a panic attack once when one of her teachers had tried to gently pat her shoulder. Because of that they thought maybe giving her her own bathroom would be a good idea. She was better now, but she still tensed up around men, especially if they tried to touch her. “I must have.” Seoyun commented between bites of toast. “Baby do you still want to stay home?” Dahyun asked, sitting next to her daughter and looking her in the eyes. Seoyun sunk into her chair a bit at the question, her happy demeanor fading quickly. 

“Yes.” Seoyun looked down at the floor. “Why do you want to stay home?” Jeongyeon asked. “Are the other kids being mean to you?” “Nu-uh.” Seoyun nodded. “Just don’t want to go.” Jeongyeon could tell she was uncomfortable at the questions, shifting around in her seat and focusing on the floor.

“Okay.” Jeongyeon sighed. “You can stay home.” “Thank you.” Seoyun smiled brightly before going back to her toast.

“Morning moms.” Jeongho walked in before Seoyun could say anything more. She jumped at his sudden voice, looking up at him quickly. “And you to Seoyeonie.” “M-morning Oppa.” Seoyun stiffened, looking away quickly. 

“Do you have baseball practice today kiddo?” Dahyun stepped in, noticing the awkward atmosphere between Jeongho and Seoyun. Despite being with them for years, she was still slightly afraid of him. They had thought her fear would slowly fade over time, but Dahyun was starting to realize that may not be possible. “Yeah.” Jeongho got a piece of toast. “Should be done by five thirty.” “Are you going to need a ride?” Jeongyeon asked. “No, I should be good. I might hang out with Jae after practice.” Jeongho nodded. “As long as you get your homework done before dinner.” Jeongyeon smiled at him.

“I will.” Jeongho nodded. “Seoyun, do you have any plans for today?” “No.” Seoyun answered quickly. She was usually tense around him, but not this tense. It led Dahyun and Jeongyeon further into the thought that something was probably wrong with her. “Okay.” Jeongho sighed at the curt answer. She had always treated him so different than Hansol, and it infuriated him. “You know I’m not going to hurt you right-”

“Jeongho.” Dahyun stopped him. “What? You guys can’t keep babying her. She’s ten, she can have this conversation.” Jeongho argued. “She doesn’t like men. I get it. But she doesn’t have to be afraid of me. I won’t hurt her.” The conversation was clearly making Seoyun uncomfortable. “Just because she has been hurt by a guy before doesn’t mean all men are going to hurt her. She isn’t afraid of Hansol, so why is she so afraid of me-”

“Kim-Yoo Jeongho.” Jeongyeon interrupted with a sigh. “We can talk about this later. When you aren’t going to be late for school.” “What about the princess over there, doesn’t her school start before mine?” Jeongho asked. “M’ not going.” Seoyun pouted, curling herself into a little ball and burying her face in her legs. This was her usual position when she was stressed, they had seen her get into it countless times. “Oh really? Are you sick? You seem fine-”

“Go get in the car Jeongho, I’m going to get Hansol.” Jeongyeon sighed, gesturing for Jeonghyo to leave. Dahyun was left with Seoyun, who was still in her defensive position. “He’s gone now sweetie.” Dahyun whispered. 

“I don’t want to be afraid of him.” Tears were clinging to Seoyun’s eyes as she said that. “I want to like Oppa. It’s just so scary.” “I know.” Seoyun opened her arms for Dahyun to hug her and Dahyun happily obliged. “He’s also a big dummy sometimes. But he really does love you and he wants to understand you, even if it doesn’t seem like it.” “Really?” “Yes.” Dahyun sighed, kissing Seoyun’s forehead. “He can just be a little emotionally dumb. But it doesn’t make him a bad person. He really wants to learn for you.” Seoyun settled into Jeongyeon’s arms, a pout still on her lips. 

Honestly, Dahyun was just happy Seoyun was letting her hold her like this.

[slashermom]

Hey not sure how full your requests are so feel free to ignore or take your time, but I wondering if we could maybe get HCs on Vincent reuniting w/ someone from his childhood, like one of the only kids who was actually ever nice to him. And maybe now that they’re all grown up he has a crush uwu??? Thank you!!!

Ah childhood friends... my weakness (Nothing scary under the cut just didn’t wanna clog up your dash! Merry Christmas Eve!)

You lived in one of the apartments near the main stretch and would always go to the Sinclair’s to play.

Let’s make this clear, Vincent definitely had the biggest crush on you and would get teased by Bo about it all the time.

You were the balance between the twins before Lester came around.

Your ability to keep up with Bo’s rough and tough nature but tone it back when it came to hanging out with Vincent was key on making the most of your adventures with them.

From the beginning, you and Vince always seemed to flow well together. You kept him on his toes and he kept you anchored.

Besides his mother, Vincent only showed his drawings to you. You were the only one who seemed to appreciate them. Plus he wanted to impress you.

Pinky promises were a big thing between you guys.

That’s how you got him to take off his mask in the first place. You had seen glances of his face when he’s getting ready to go out the door. (His mom liked to see his face when he was home.) But never truly seen what all the fuss was about.

You pinky promised that you wouldn’t laugh or get scared if he took his mask off and you always made good on your pinky promises so he felt confident enough to show you.

“It’s not even that bad, you really don’t even need a mask. You can take it off whenever you want around me, I won’t judge you. Pinky promise!”

So from that moment on, he would take off his mask when it was just you two. He didn’t think his face was something to be happy about but it made you happy when he took it off and he so desperately wanted to make you happy.

You two used to talk about how when you were old enough you were gonna help him run the House of Wax.

Him the great artist and you the lovely manager and tour guide.

But these dreams were left to rot after Trudy and Victor died.

The last time Vincent saw you was when he caught a glimpse of you running up the hill to his house right before he was shoved into the back of a car headed to the orphanage.

Looking out the back window he saw you yelling at someone to tell you what happened. Trying to push past two men and get to Lester who was trying to reach out to Bo who was putting up a hell of a fight.

He never got to see if you managed to reach one of his brothers before the car pulled away and left his home town.

Vincent thought about you a lot when he was in the system. About how when he finally left this place and went home how happy he would be to see you and vice versa.

You were one of the things that got him through those dark times.

So you can only imagine the sadness and heartbreak when he came back to Ambrose and ran up the steps of your apartment to find it had been abandon for years.

As the years dragged on Vincent had questions.

Where had you gone? Who was with you? Were you happy? Did you miss him? Did you even think about him?

All questions he thought that would never be answered untill a new visitor pulled into town.

Bo had yelled at him from the top of the basement steps to ‘haul ass’ and Vincent flew up the steps fully expecting another group of rowdy tourists.

But instead was surprised to see an unfamiliar figure looking at old pictures. Well, unfamiliar until you turned around at the sound of creaking floorboards.

You two recognized each other almost instantly. He knew those eyes like the back of his hand.

It was like seeing a ghost. Your breath caught in your throat and heart stuttering in your chest as your face broke out into a ginormous smile. It wasn’t long before you broke the distance.

You used to be about the same height as him when you were kids but even with the very apparent height difference now you still gave the same protective and loving hugs.

Vincent was quick to squeeze back. Afraid if he let go too soon you would vanish into thin air and he would be stuck wondering what happened to you again. He won’t go through that again.

After the very long overdue hug that Vincent is pretty sure restored his life source, Bo had chimed in that you should stay for a drink.

So there the three of you were, sitting in the kitchen reminiscing about your childhood days. You had your legs stretched out under the table across Vincent’s lap as you laughed at something Bo said.

Vincent couldn’t say he was really listening. His focus was still caught on the fact that you’re really here. The more and more he looked at you he could tell you hadn’t changed a single bit.

The same kind ways, the vivacious laugh, your quirks, all the things that made up you when you were a kid still shone through.

Vincent brought his hands off the table where he had them placed nervously to rest them on the legs spread across his lap. Rubbing up and down the expanse with his thumb.

You didn’t seem to mind so he continued. You were always leaning on him back then so his actions were practically muscle memory.

The air was light-hearted and familiar until the sound of a truck pulling up sent Bo into a frenzy to get to the window.

Wondering what his problem was, you looked at Vincent with raised eyebrows. He only shrugged and continued to stare at you from behind his mask.

You began wondering how much he looked like Bo. Wondering if he’d be willing to leave the mask behind as he did back then.

Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of the front door opening and a scruffy looking young man walking in; which you recognized as Lester immediately.

Scrambling to get up and hug the dirty rascal you removed yourself from Vincent’s space and rushed up to Lester. Almost instantly, Vincent missed your warmth and weight.

After that little reunion, you all sat back down and began talking again. Only this time you didn’t have your legs on Vincent and he was stuck wondering how to get close to you once again without looking desperate.

You had explained to the boys that you moved shortly after they had left. Many people left Ambrose after Trudy and Victor died. The town really wasn’t much without the wax museum running. Which explains why when the Sinclairs returned it was slim pickings for new wax figures.

You also explained that you were only stopping into town as a goodbye. You were getting ready for a big move to a new job and wanted to get one last look at the place. The boys were the last people you were expecting to see.

The brothers all shared a look as you talked about leaving Ambrose. You had only just got here, you weren’t about to leave so soon.

Bo began breaking out the hard stuff in hopes you wouldn’t pass him up. Knowing it he got you drunk enough you at least wouldn’t make the drive tonight.

He was right, and a few hours later you were crashed on the couch with an old blanket.

Bo left the house and went down to your car to make sure it wasn’t going to be going anywhere anytime soon and Lester went home for some much-needed rest. Leaving Vincent to observe you all over again.

He couldn’t describe the feeling he got when he looked at you. Nostalgia? Safety? Love? Maybe it was all of them but what he did know is that he hadn’t felt these things in a very long time.

The three of them had come up the astonishing lie that they were turning Ambrose into a complete tourist attraction; that they were taking Trudy’s dream one step further.

Which it wasn’t a total lie... But it wasn’t the total truth either. It was just something to keep you unsuspecting of all the wax figures scattered around town.

You would stay with the Sinclairs for the next few days while your car was being ‘repaired’. Within those few days, Vincent felt himself grow attached to you all over again.

Everything he did he thought of you. Maybe you would like to join him and Jonesy for a walk or check out some of his smaller pieces of art? Truth be told, he just wanted to make up for lost time but didn’t want to annoy you.

Vincent was actually surprised when you came into the House of Wax looking for him. You began reminiscing about how you used to play in here even though you were chastised not to every time. You even brought up how you two used to think you were gonna run this place together.

We could, Vincent thought to himself. You’re here now, what’s stopping us?

“You know you don’t have the wear that thing around me. You never had to... Will you take it off for me? I won’t look at you any different just because you grew up. Pinky promise.”

His mind was no longer sending out actions. He just stood there looking at your outstretched pinky astonished. After a couple of deep breaths and some nervous shuffling of feet, he reached up and removed the mask.

You sighed happily at see how he grew into a handsome young man. You wondered if he knew that he was beautiful.

“There’s my Vincent.”

Yours he truly was because in the few days since you had returned his childhood crush on you had returned in full force.

Anything you wanted, he’ll give to you. Just please, stay here with him. Don’t leave again. He’s had enough of loosing people and things being out of his control. He has an opportunity to make you stay and he’ll do what he must to keep you in Ambrose.

[awkwardnessandbaseball]

Sorry for the delay, as I worked all day today, but here’s Chapter Two!!!

Once again, so many thanks to: @cspupstravaganza, @sherlockianwhovian​, and @lassluna.

Tag list: @quirkykayleetam, @squidvisious, @carpedzem (Message me to be added!)

AO3 if that’s your jam: Prologue | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7

I’d Pick You (and Your Little Dog, Too)

A Captain Swan Pupstravaganza Story

Summary: According to everyone in the known universe, Emma Swan’s dog is supposed to lead her to her soulmate. But she���s not even sure if she wants that. Soulmates are pretty idealistic, don’t you think?

Chapter Two:

Within minutes of receiving the call, David and Emma hop in the official Storybrooke Police vehicle and make their way to the park, Rascal and Princess taking up residence in their assigned seats in the back of the SUV. It’s really a good thing that there’s hardly any arrests in Storybrooke, or they’d never be able to share the car. There are a few part-time deputies who fill in here and there, but mostly it’s just the Nolan siblings running the town.

“So the caller said these dogs aren’t letting anyone near them?” Emma asks as they drive. “Did she say if they were growling or trying to bite?”

“I think they’re just too fast, playing ‘catch me if you can.’” David tells her.

They park across the street from the large group that’s now formed near where the loose dogs must be. Most of the canine companions are sitting calmly, watching the display, but some of the more rowdy ones are barking or pulling on their leashes, trying to play or get a hold of the dogs without owners.

Emma glances at some of the less well-behaved dogs and lets herself feel a moment of pity for their owners, because those must be some loud, rowdy soulmates.

“Emma! David! Over here!” They look towards the voice and find Granny, Ruby’s grandmother and the owner of Granny’s Diner and the inn down the street. After their parents' deaths when Emma and David were fourteen, it had been Granny who’d taken them in, allowing them to stay together and finish out high school in Storybrooke.

Granny doesn’t have a dog of her own, and the rumors are endless when it comes to the reason why. Some people say she had one, but she let it loose or gave it away to someone else, not wanting to know who her soulmate was. Others say she was never matched with a dog, but fell in love anyway – otherwise, how would she have had Ruby’s mother? The most vicious rumor Emma had heard was that Granny stole someone else’s soulmate away, and that’s why she was never matched with a dog.

It’s all ridiculous. Granny runs the diner and feeds nearly the entire town – human and canine alike – so whoever started any of those rumors is just thankless and mean. Plus, most of the stories don’t even make any logical sense.

Emma and David run to meet her, Rascal and Princess right behind them. Granny gives each of the dogs a treat from her seemingly bottomless pockets, then turns to the sheriff and her deputy.

“There are two loose dogs here,” she tells them.

“Yeah, that’s… why we’re here. We got a call.” David looks around and then calls out, “Attention! Storybrooke Police! Please clear the area!”

The crowd parts like the Red Sea, allowing David and Emma to walk toward the main area of the park. There are two golden retrievers sitting calmly on the other side, right next to the lake.

“They haven’t let anyone near them,” Doctor Whale whispers to Emma, far too close to her for comfort. “The bigger one thinks it’s a game and runs away whenever we get close. The small one nearly took Mr. Gold’s hand off.”

“He probably deserved it,” Emma mumbles, earning a small chuckle from Whale. “Either way, we’ll take care of it.”

Emma and David look at each other and instantly Emma knows David’s plan. They split up, Emma to the right, David to the left. Princess creeps along beside her owner, crouching down to keep her impact on the ground minimal, while Rascal hobbles along behind Emma, careful not to get under her feet.

The two goldens sit completely still as Emma and David inch closer to them. Emma thinks they might actually have a chance at catching them without much difficulty when suddenly Rascal bursts forward and tackles the smaller golden. Emma is shocked – Rascal rarely shows any interest in other dogs – and nearly yells his name, but it’s stuck in her throat. He isn’t trying to hurt the golden. He’s trying to play with her.

Emma turns to David, who looks just as shocked as she feels, just in time to see Princess tilt her head. She gallops past David to see what Rascal is getting himself into. After realizing that there’s no room in this play session, she goes to see what the other golden retriever is up to. So far, he hasn’t moved. He’s sitting and watching everyone watch him, looking proud somehow. Emma’s pretty sure he’s smiling. Princess sits in front of him and they stare at each other for a moment.

And then Princess does something distinctly not Princess-like: she reaches up with one paw and bats the other dog on the head. The golden merely tilts his head at her, then jumps up and pins her down. Princess lets out a growl and flips the other dog over, surprising him.

David finally finds his voice and laughs before shouting a command at Princess.

“Stay!”

Princess shakes her head once and stays put, allowing David to approach the two dogs. Emma sees him realize that he doesn’t have a leash with him. Princess and Rascal generally don’t wear them at the station, and they’d been in such a rush when they left that they’d both forgotten.

Shit.

Emma watches as David struggles with where to go from here. She’s still poised, ready to follow his lead, but they’re both at a loss for what to do next. Rascal stops playing and looks towards Emma for some sort of guidance.

“Come, Rascal,” she says. And he does, with the small golden retriever following closely behind him. Princess follows suit, and sure enough, so does her playmate. The four dogs lead Emma and David back to their police car with a very confused crowd staring after them.

“What the hell just happened?” Emma asks David as they climb into the car. David is silent as he places the key in the ignition. He drives two blocks, then pulls over again, out of the sightline of the crowd back at the park.

“I’ve never seen Princess act like that,” he admits.

“Rascal has only ever played with Princess. And that one time with Wolf, but that ended badly,” Emma shudders at the memory. Rascal, unsocialized as he was, tried to play with Wolf and only ended up angering the over-sized husky. It had escalated quickly but Emma was able to break it up before any real damage was done. Both dogs had walked away with small scratches and a puncture or two, but nothing life-threatening.

David stares at Emma but she refuses to look at him. She knows what he’s thinking, but it’s impossible.

“Maybe these dogs—”

“They’re stray dogs, David.” The phrase feels strange on her tongue. Those two words don’t match up like ‘stray cats’ or ‘abandoned gerbils’. “They don’t belong to anyone.”

He continues to watch her, waiting for her to come to the same conclusion he’s reached. And she has. She knows exactly what this means, but she’s just not sure how.

“One could say that we—”

“We’re not strays. Orphans are not strays.” Tears are welling up and she swallows hard, trying to keep her emotions under control.

Once they turned 17 and had wanted a place of their own, Emma started waiting tables at the diner and David cleaned kennels at the vet. It wasn’t pretty or glamorous, but it got them a shabby apartment and food on the table - food that wasn’t deep-fried in the kitchen at Granny’s. It meant they could take care of Princess and Rascal when they came along.

For half their lives, Emma and David have been orphans. Even as an adult, Emma feels the absence of a parent in the same way she did when she was 14. She struggles sometimes to remember her mother’s voice or her father’s laugh, but David always helps her to remember. He’s dealt with the pain better than she has. She still feels like a lost orphan sometimes, and he often has to pick her back up and remind her of how much she really has in front of her.

“Emma.” David’s voice brings Emma back to the present, to the situation at hand and the four dogs in their backseat. “Those dogs wouldn’t come to anyone else, and then they just suddenly decide to follow Princess and Rascal and come back with us, no chasing or even leashing involved whatsoever?”

“I know what happened, David, I was there. But my original point still stands: the dogs were loose. No collars, no tags.”

David sighs in defeat and starts the car again. When they arrive back at the station, Princess and Rascal show their two new friends to their bed and the four of them curl up together in what Emma can only think of as a Cuddle Puddle.

It’s ridiculously cute and it’s making Emma’s heart ache.

Loathe as she is to admit it, these dogs very clearly belong to David and Emma’s soulmates. The problem is that they don’t seem to belong to anyone at all.

************

After the excitement of the morning, it’s a normal, quiet day at the station. Emma spends far too much time staring at the large pile of fur in the corner of the room. The light gold fur of Rascal’s new friend is reflecting in the small bit of sunlight that shines through the window.

I guess you’re meant to be me, Emma thinks to herself. It’s no wonder whatever human you’re attached to didn’t want you anymore.

She feels a strange hole in her heart, as though she’s missing something – or someone – that she’s never had to begin with. If this is what having a soulmate feels like, she wants absolutely no part of it.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t have much of a say in the matter.

She can tell David’s feeling the same phantom pains. He’s hunched over his desk, focusing too hard on the paperwork in front of him, his grip on the pen just a bit too tight.

“I’m going to get some early dinner at Granny’s. I’ll be back,” Emma announces, unable to sit in the quiet room anymore. “Do you want your usual?”

David looks up from the desk in surprise as though he’s forgotten she’s still in the room with him. He nods once and then goes back to whatever he’s working on.

Out on the street, with Rascal as her only company, Emma instantly feels better. Being away from the strange reminder that she does in fact have a soulmate, they’re just… what? missing?... clears her head, and the pain in her chest eases to a dull soreness.

“Did you find the owners?” Granny asks as soon as Emma steps foot in the door. Granny’s never been known for being subtle.

Emma shakes her head, fighting off the tears that inexplicably well up in her eyes at the thought of the poor dogs back at the station without any owners. She places her takeout order and sips a Coke at the counter while she waits.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Lucas,” comes a voice from the door. Rascal’s ears perk up and Emma turns her head. She’s never seen the man before – a rare occurrence in Storybrooke, and now it’s happened twice in one day. He’s scruffy, in a nice way, and has an attractive amount of chest hair peeking out from the top of his shirt. He smiles easily at Granny, but she scowls at him in return.

“I’ve told you, everyone calls me ‘Granny.’” She smiles, but it’s one of mocking. “Because I’m so kind and grandmotherly.”

“Of course, ma’am. Apologies.” The man continues to grin despite the older woman’s eye roll. He places an order and walks towards the seats at the counter.

Towards Emma.

She tries not to stare, really she does, but she rarely runs into people in this small, sleepy town that she doesn’t already know. Who is this man?

“No need to stare, love, I’m not going anywhere.” The man smirks at her, raising an eyebrow. He’s got a slight accent, British perhaps, and Emma tries not to think about how sexy it is.

“Not your love,” Emma retorts with a small laugh. He laughs at her quick wit and then glances down at Rascal.

“May I um… may I greet your dog?” he asks.

It’s a strange question. Most people don’t ask, they simply stick their hands right in Rascal’s face. He rarely reacts at all, but he’s been known to give big, wet kisses to some of Emma’s closer friends. She trusts his judgement, especially after he’d been right about Neal from the beginning….

Emma nods, watching Rascal to see what he’ll do. He sits up straight and stares at the man with curious eyes.

The man bends his knees and crouches down so he and Rascal are nearly the same height. He doesn’t say anything to him, merely holds his hand out, palm up, for the dog to consider. Rascal does, sniffing it and then moving closer so he can sniff the rest of the man’s arm, and then finally his face. If the man is surprised by the dog’s behavior, he doesn’t act like it.

“Hey bud,” he says softly. “I don’t have one myself,” he says to Emma, and she thinks back to her conversation with David about people without dogs. “What’s his name?” Rascal is practically in the man’s lap now.

“Rascal. And um… I’m Emma,” she holds her hand out awkwardly for him to shake. He looks up at her and takes her hand, kissing it instead. She does her best not to roll her eyes at the corny move.

“Killian,” he tells her. “Killian Jones. I just moved here with my step-sister.”

Emma wants to ask if his sister has a dog, if he’s alone in his loneliness. But she doesn’t, if only because Granny calls out her name for her takeout order.

“Nice to meet you,” she tells him, pulling a reluctant Rascal out the door. Killian waves at her as she leaves, and she feels the pain in her chest inexplicably expand as she walks away.

[lamiasluck]

A Touch of Madness

Summary: After meeting Him and realizing that the town had an unsettling dark side, Eric decides to spend some time with Tulip outside. The both of them could use some alone time to think about their situation. Unluckily for them, it turns out they aren't as alone as they thought.

AU: Magic au, every ego has magical powers and familiars

Characters: Eric Derekson and Wilford Warfstache

Words: 2188

Read on AO3! The Magic AU!

-

Clockwise, counter clockwise, clockwise, counter clockwise��

Eric found himself getting dizzy trying to follow Tulip’s movements. She was running circles around him while he sat cross legged on the soft grass below. The day was nice, so Eric figured that he could bring Tulip to a nearby forest to folick. Admittedly, he used it as an excuse to calm himself down, but who would blame him? This supposedly quiet town has already given him more than he could bargain for and it has only been a week. It was hard to wrap his head around the situation. At the very least, he assumed that there was some sort of crime group in the town. And by Bim’s nonchalant attitude towards murder, he knew that this group had loose morals.

Moving should be his next plan. Getting as far away from this town as possible was a welcomed goal, but an unreachable one. The plethora of money Bim gave him was enough to buy new potion supplies and tidy up the shop at least. However, he had nowhere near enough to buy a new place to live. Especially in a place far away enough from danger. He moved here to lay low, not to be threatened for his life all over again.

So he needed more customers, but more customers also meant more threats. Potentially. If he treaded carefully, he could avoid future conflicts. But who knows what kind of person could walk through his shop’s doors next?

His breathing became much more shuddered than usual ever since he met Bim. It was like his usual panicked personality was exaggerated. Try as he might, nothing could fully calm him down.

Tulip thumped her back legs loudly once she saw Eric zoning out. He flinched at the sound, but soon returned to his senses. Petting Tulip always somewhat calmed him down on days like this. The bunny hopped onto his lap and nudged her head against his stomach, taking full advantage of that fact. He let out a quiet giggle at the sight. As Tulip continued her attention seeking, he reached in his bag and pulled out a pouch filled with rose petals. Her favourite treats. The perfect reward for such undying support.

Unbeknownst to them, there was another onlooker creeping in the shadows. They let their presence be known by dashing between the bushes within a blink of an eye. Eric and Tulip froze in place as they stared at the source of the sound. The creature moved again, and for a brief moment, Eric saw a silhouette. Another rabbit.

“Oh… oh thank god-!” Eric let out a breathy laugh. “Tulip - Tulip it’s okay. It’s okay, Tulip, nothing to worry about.” He was about to calm down his familiar before the unknown rabbit jumped out of its hiding place. Tulip huddled herself closer to Eric as he let out a surprised yelp.

The creature looked more like a hare than a rabbit. Even then, it looked… off. Compared to Tulip, it made her look like a baby in size and stature. It also looked more hostile, much more hostile. If its jutting, sharp teeth and bloodshot red eyes were anything to go by. Eric hoped that the dirty red clumsily covering its body happened to be apart of its coat, and not its unforseen victim.

It hopped closer to the two, carefully sniffing the air. Eric did his best to put on a brave face and shield Tulip, but he had no clue how to help the situation. So he did what he did best.

“Pl-Please go… please don’t hurt us…”

Beg.

The hare must have not understood his pleads. Or it didn’t care. It kept creeping closer until it was face to face with Eric, eventually turning to look at the shivering bundle in his lap. As scared as Eric was, he never budged and shielded Tulip more. Nothing was going to stop him from protecting his familiar. Not even the creature’s dagger-like teeth.

Eric screwed his eyes shut as the hare sniffed his face. It let out odd growls and snorts, but never hurt him. Yet. So long as Tulip didn’t get hurt, he didn’t care about his own wellbeing.

“Snuggles?!” An unknown voice sounded off in the distance. “Snuggles, where are you~? You little rascal!” The man’s voice laughed.

Within a minutes time, a brightly dressed man literally popped into existence. He paid no mind to Eric’s panicked state and focused on the hare. “Oh, there you are!”

“W-Who are you?!” Eric screamed. Tulip jumped from her spot in Eric’s lap and into his arms, startled by the overwhelming noises.

“I should ask you the same thing, friend! Why, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The pink clan man showed him a bright smile. He had an eye catching appearance, to say the least. Lots of pink, an upbeat attitude, and a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Exactly the type of person that would name a killer hare, Snuggles.

All Eric could do was hyperventilate, eyes darting between the man and the hare. The man followed his gaze and finally connected the dots.

“Ah, I see. Did Snuggles scare you? I didn’t realize that he ran off.”

Eric gave a short nod, hugging Tulip close to his chest.

The man looked down at the hare with a stern look, huffing to himself. He made a few “tsk” noises at the hare to add to his scolding. “Now what did I tell you? You can’t make friends by scaring them.” Much to Eric’s surprise, the hare backed down at Wilford’s tone, pressing his ears to his head. After giving the hare what-for, he turned back to Eric with a softer expression. “My apologizes, friend, my familiar is a rambunctious fellow. My name is Wilford Warfstache, pleased to meet you!”

“Um, I… I’m Eric,” he muttered. He relaxed ever so slightly at Wilford’s friendly attitude. His name seemed to strike a chord in Wilford and he watched his confused expression cautiously.

“Eric?” Wilford pondered to himself for a moment before his eyes shone brightly once more. There might as well have been an actual lightbulb over his head as he remembered. “Right, Eric! The potion maker! Bim’s told me all about you.”

And now he was back at square one in terms of panic level. Hearing Bim’s name again made him visibly pale. “Did - Did he, um, what did he say about me?”

“He said you were quite the character! All innocent and cute, just like that little rabbit of yours.”

“Really?” Eric fidgeted at Wilford’s comment, even Tulip squirmed in his arms. He was confused as to why people kept casually complimenting him. But, then again, he probably would be considered cute when compared to a criminal. At least Bim wasn’t joking when he said he liked his personality. He clung onto any sense of relief in his situation, for his sanity’s sake.

“Yes, of course I’m not one to lie,” Wilford said with a cheeky smile. “I’ve been meaning to pay you a proper visit, but I suppose life wants to be a jokester.” He let out an awkward chuckle. “My dearest apologizes again. I hope I didn’t scare you too much.”

“It - It’s okay-! It’s not the first time…” And it won’t be the last. Not in this town. Eric got up and slung his bag over his shoulder, allowing Tulip to hide within the fabric. “I should - I should get going now. I closed up shop to be here… I shouldn’t - it’s selfish…”

“Nonsense, friend! You shouldn’t apologize for that,” Wilford reassured whilst patting Eric on the shoulder. The shorter man squeaked at the contact, but gave him a shaky smile as he looked up at him. “Everyone needs a break from the madness every once and awhile. Why don’t I walk you back? It’s the least I could do.”

There was a brief silence as Eric thought about Wilford’s suggestion. He looked at Wilford, then he looked at Snuggle’s red eyes, and he nodded. Maybe it was because Wilford was friendly or maybe it was because he didn’t want to risk immediately getting on his bad side. Wilford did know Bim afterall, there must be something darker hiding behind all that pink. Either way, they walked back to his shop side by side.

Besides the peaceful sounds of the passing breeze, Snuggles kept letting out these deep snorts as he twitched his nose at Eric’s bag. He knew these were happy noises, Tulip made the same noises, albeit a much softer version of them. Either way, Eric made sure to keep Tulip close to his chest.

“Aw~ Snuggles really likes your familiar! I’ve never seen him so excited,” Wilford said.

“Tulip’s really - really shy, um, so-sorry… She only trusts me,” Eric explained.

“That’s okay, you two must have a good bond, then. How delightful! Snuggles and I are quite the pair as well, always eager to show off our powers.”

Eric didn’t want to know what kind of powers Snuggles had. His strong appearance was enough to make gruesome assumptions. He wondered how someone could compete with such a familiar, however. “So… so you can teleport?”

“I can do lots of things,” Wilford corrected. “Why, I bet I can do anything you can think of!” To showcase his point, his snapped his fingers and plethora of bubbles appeared from his palms. He giggled at Eric’s amazed reaction, popping a couple with his finger.

There were so many possibilities for such a power. “You can do everything?!” Eric had trouble contemplating them as he stared at the bubbles. They smelled faintly like cotton candy.

“A jack of all trades, some would say.” He snapped his fingers again and the rest of the bubbles popped in unison. “I do favour certain tricks, of course.” This time he pointed his hand in a finger gun, aiming at a large leaf. He mimicked a shooting motion and the leaf was ripped off the tree. The sound of a gunshot echoed throughout the forest. Eric flinched at the sudden sound and screwed his eyes shut. By the time he opened them again, he saw that the leaf on the ground with a bullet shaped hole in the middle.

“O-Oh… oh my god.”

Wilford laughed again and blew off the wind from the barrel of his “gun”. “Snuggles still gives me a run for my money, y’know? Tough little guy!” He called for Snuggles and the hare immediately jumped into his arm. Snuggles - well - snuggled in his arms, happily grumbling as he pressed a kiss on his forehead.

If the blood on Snuggles’ coat didn’t exist, Eric would have thought that the familiar was cute. He calmed down exponentially since the gunshot, but he worried about the amount of power this town had. He only assumed that Wilford was apart of this crime circle. However, he didn’t dare to ask for closure. He didn’t have a death wish.

Their walk continued and before they knew it, they were right in front of the little shop’s door. Eric fished out his keys. “Did - did you need something? Um… you said you wanted to visit.”

“I suppose I just wanted some new company. I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m afraid I don’t have the time,” Wilford sighed. “I’m already late for a meeting.”

“Oh, that - that’s okay,” Eric rushed out his response. “I hope, um, I-I’m sorry for making you late…”

Wilford gave him another pat on the shoulder. “Nonsense, I’ll be fine. Dark will go easy on me, he’s never mad for too long.”

Eric tilted his head at the name, Dark. The blunt title shocked him back to a reality he was already very aware of. There were more questions on his tongue, but he stayed silent in favour of being left in the dark. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of meeting someone deserving of that title.

“Bim was right about you, your personality is downright addicting! I’ll be sure to give you another visit when I have the time,” Wilford said. “You’ve sparked some curiosity amongst us actually.”

“I - what?”  

“Ta-ta, Eric, until next time!” Wilford and Snuggles poofed away in the blink of an eye, leaving Eric with his last thought.

After standing dumbfounded for a moment, he returned to his peaceful shop. Tulip poked her head out of his bag and sniffed the air with caution. With a shuddered sign, he let her rest on a table and sat down himself. This was only the tip of the iceberg. He didn’t want to think about his unforseen fate. Wilford was surprisingly nice, though a criminal could always put on a friendly face.

He rummaged through his bag again and pulled out the pouch of rose petals. Tulip ate the treat with fervor as Eric gave her a hefty clump. It was what she deserved after putting on a brave face. He watched with a smile, relieved that he lived to see such a wholesome sight. At this point, they both needed treats for their bravery.

[jasperlion]

how do you feel about your childhood friends? (Celica plus the ram squad)

How do you feel about…? | Accepting

“My childhood friends, huh?” Alm echoes, ghost of a smile turning into a fully genuine one as his gaze falls to his feet. “There’s so much I could just say… about all of them, really.”

Their laughs, their sorrow, what he loved about them, what drove him mad about them… they were all special to him, a part of his heart, a piece of home that never felt quite right if they were apart.

Maybe it’s why it hurt so much when Celica left. When Kliff left. Different kinds of pains, sure, but the uncertainty that gripped his heart then and grips his heart now is oh so very discomforting.

“They’re… special. Wonderful. They’re like… they’re the closest thing I have to a family aside from Grandfather. In… in different ways, each one, but…”

But, in the end, they all mattered.

“Let’s start with Tobin. He’s…” For a moment, he struggles, as if trying to fish for words. “He’s a treasure, really.” 

Fond eyes pull away from the ground, and he turns to gaze to the right, thoughtful, as if trying to recall memories. “He tries so hard to prove himself— and to provide for his family. He… he loves them a lot, you know? His parents, his siblings… he puts so much work in what he does just so he can keep them all afloat. It’s… it’s a big responsibility, and a heavy burden to bear.” His fond smile turns sad, almost forlorn. “I wish he’d let me help. They’re… important to me, too. His family, and… well, and him. He works himself too hard sometimes, and I know he wants to feel like he earned it, but…”

‘Gods, please, let me help you.’

“He’s… he’s a wonderful friend, too. He’s… looked out for me and how I feel, always tried to steer me towards a path where I wouldn’t get hurt. He encouraged me to say goodbye to Grandfather, he… wanted for me to be able to apologize to Celica when we had our fight.” And the thought makes him smile. “He’s such a good friend… when I can’t help him, it makes me feel bad. I… I even feel bad for not believing him, you know? When he said he couldn’t lift the sword…”

So much of his pain could have been avoided, if he had just…let himself think of the possibility that he had been lied to. If he had… allowed himself to figure out his heritage. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so… so…

“… Tobin’s very important to me.”

Oh. Right. He coughs into his hand and laughs, shaking his head and looking ahead. “Wow… and I have four other friends to go! Well, uh… Gray…”

And, once more, Alm trails off and looks to the side, only for a small chuckle to interrupt him. One that turns into a laugh, lips parting into a genuine smile. “I really looked up to Gray, you know!” He says as his laughter trails. “So world-savvy, so traveled… he knew of a world I could only really dream of, a world I had only heard about from the stories him, Mycen and Celica told me about.” It was a different time. It was… it was almost difficult to remember, what it was like to not have seen the world. How the world used to look like, in his mind’s eye.

“Even after we left, you know, he was always so… confident, you know? Kept me out of trouble, too, whenever I wandered around in a town trying to get supplies for the Deliverance. Made sure no one hoodwinked me and the like.”  He wasn’t sure what he would have done without Gray. “He always acted like he knew what he was talking about— I used to think he was full of hot air, but, well… I’ve learned since.”

Sometimes, it’s just how you survive out there, especially as a commoner.

“He’s also looked out for me, just as much as Tobin has. They both… they tried to keep me on the ground, remind me of where we came from, you know? Of what we had been put through when we were kids. Of our limits. Of course, I… later on we found it was…” Once more, Alm trails off, only to shake his head. “It’s… not important. I just appreciate it— all they did for me.”

“… Faye’s next.” he says, after a quiet sort of pause, shaking his head and running his left hand through his hair, ruffling it a little. “She’s… an odd sort, to be sure. Worries a whole lot, you know?”

Maybe, she worried too much. “Sometimes I feel she never quite recovered from what happened back then.” He says, voice soft, and brows knit in concern. “Wary of strangers, wary of everything, it felt like her guard was always up whenever she spoke to anyone who wasn’t us, you know?”

It worried him, really, how much she’d dig her heels at the new, like it was dangerous. Like it’d hurt everyone again.

“She tries to keep everyone safe, in her own way.  Does her best to make sure everyone’s alright and accounted for. Sometimes, I think she always makes a headcount when we break for camp to make sure one of us didn’t just run off again. Like we’re sheep, and she’s the sheepdog—” Trailing off, he laughs at the mental image. She’s the one who looked like a sheep most of all, in his opinion!

“Don’t let it fool you, though. That girl’s just about as much a rascal as any, she just has a better poker face for when we get caught.”

Levity helped. Levity was nice.

And then…

“Well… then there’s Kliff.” Gods, Kliff. What was he going to do with that guy? 

“If I’m honest… I always thought he’d leave one day, you know?” Alm says, exhaling softly as his gaze turns skyward. “Fly away, to wherever it is that he sought to find.” It wasn’t a secret among anyone, try as Kliff might to pretend he didn’t care either way.

“He left before, you know? To a nearby town, sure, and we knew where he was, unlike Celica, but…” All the same, he had left, in the search of something more… among other things. Kliff didn’t like to talk about home, and Alm respected that.

“Well… when he told me he always wanted to see the world, back when we left Ram… I knew then. Something told me, in my gut, that he wouldn’t stay when this was over.” Kliff would chase his dream and, for a time, Alm wished he could have chased it with him. Travelling around, helping people… it sounded appealing, and it would have definitely helped him eventually find Celica (or so he thought), so he had considered asking Kliff to come with when the war was over.

And then, the war got longer. He fought with Celica. More and more responsibilities landed on his shoulders. “Thought I’d go with him at one point, but as the war went on, I felt myself more like a moored boat, and he..? A loose boat, offshore and far, getting further by the minute.” And that was what it was, in the end. Him? He was tied down, in responsibility and duty and his love and care for Valentia. Kliff? Kliff was off to new pastures, and then off again, a wanderer.

“… I hope he loves it out there.”

And, lastly…

“And then… there’s Celica.” Alm almost breathes her name, saddened eyes uplifted at the thought of his closest friend, owner of his heart.

His eyes slide closed, and he takes a breath, trying to focus exclusively on what he wants to say. All his burdens, his thoughts, his sorrows, and his wishes… they roll off his shoulders, and he feels as tall as he stands.

“She’s so unlike me, you know? And yet… so much of me is made, shaped, by what I learned from her and at her side. We’re like the sun and the moon, sometimes… but that just means we’ll always light the sky.”

… Gods, that was cheesy. Even then, it was just… it was how he felt about it, really.

“But, well, we share some traits too, you know? We’re both stubborn, and we never know when to quit. We want peace, we love the outdoors, and flowers… and we want so much for Valentia to flourish. And we…” Pausing, Alm shakes his head. “And then there’s the stuff where we’re different. She’s a lot more focused than me, a lot more driven. She’s slow to make her choices because she’s always considering things, and here I am, you know? Rushing ahead, doing what I think is best because it’s what first came to mind… I’m trying, though! I don’t want her to feel like she has to spend all her time holding me back from doing something stupid.” A laugh leaves him as his gaze turns once more to the side, as if a mental image has sprung to mind.

“She’s so kind and considerate— but she’s also so distant. Like she’s trying to put something between herself and everything else. I… I understand why, and I never felt her do it with me, but it… it hurts to see her push others to arm’s length. I want to… I want to help her feel like she can let other people in again.” The desire is earnest, and so is his sad little smile, but it widens more and more, as if the thought of her can’t keep him down for long.

“She also doesn’t consider herself a lot, you know? Like she’s gotta be strong for everyone, but ain’t got room for her own wants and needs. I want to make her feel like… like she matters, you know? She’s my friend, she’s so important to me… and to so many other people. I hope I can help her see that, as much as she’s helping me work… around my more impulsive tendencies.” Among other things. He knows he tends to roll with his emotions, and he knows he’s not very good at propriety, so he tries hard to learn what she’s got to teach him.

“I feel like, if we hadn’t met, I would have never learned to… deal with people who closed their heart.” He finally says, closing his eyes. “When she arrived to Ram… she was the most scared little thing… but it also made her so angry, so hurt…”

It’s painful to think about how she used to be, after she had lost everything. Now that he knew, it was even more heartbreaking than it was before.

“If I hadn’t learned people could be like that… and still be kind and wonderful underneath… I don’t think I’d be as good with dealing with people who are hurt as I am now. I think we… both learned a lot as kids, from each other.”

“… And, more than anything, I want to help her keep smiling, no matter how hard it gets.”

[im-hiding22]

Travelers - 9:15 A.M.

Rascal reached the lobby, coming out from the empty stairwell. He looked around and examined the place. The lobby was a bit small, with dim lights only begin supported by a few generators. There were people set up around the grounds, either with their own personal camps or small, contained services like a mini hospital and food stop. It wasn’t very spectacular-- just a few people laying out towels and cans of food and water, some stretchers and trained Doctors tending to those laying on them, and small families sleeping and sharing a mattress. It was rather hectic, with Oz rallying up those who wanted to evacuate safely, and his voice projected quite loudly in the little area as he called out to them. There was a little crowd of people around him, some carrying small children, some hurriedly sorting through papers, some crying. 

“H...hey, do you know where to get drinks around here?” Rascal nervously asked someone in the crowd. They turned and looked a bit disheveled. 

“Huh? Yeah, just go to that lady. She gives out food and drinks. There’s also a bar, but you have to pay for those.” The individual was a woman, she looked like a mother. 

“Where?” Rascal looked to where she pointed.

“Her, the old lady.” She held his shoulder and turned him to face where she was pointing. “Go ask her.” Oz called out for everyone to follow him, and the lady turned quickly. “Good luck, little boy,” She shouted as she ran to get buried in the crowd. Oz, carrying two small kids on his shoulders, started leading the way out the door. The people followed him and squeezed past the doors. Rascal made his way to the person the woman had directed him to. She was an old lady sitting behind a towel with different foods and drinks laid out before her. She was pouring cold tea into small cups happily, and another man sat nearby, watching her eagerly. 

“Hey, uh...do you have drinks here?” Rascal asked, approaching her. 

“Well, what do you think I’m serving here?” Her voice was gentle, and she laughed. 

“Oh, right. Dumb!” Rascal smacked his own hand and crouched down. The man looked to him with wide eyes. He had bandages wrapped around his hands and some around his head. “Uh...do you think you have some hot chocolate around here? My friends and I...”

“Yes, yes honey. Sit down, I’ll get you some.” She smiled and finished pouring her tea and passed a little cup to the other man. He took it in his hands-- it shook slightly-- and sipped it. 

“Thank you,” he said, voice like a single breath.

“It’s no problem.” She took a little thermos from her bag and shook it. “I managed to pack some more festive drinks as well for fall. I also have eggnog, if you’d like.’

“Oh, no thank you.” Rascal held his hands in his lap. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where do you get all this stuff from?”

“I save up, and I scavenge.” She opened the thermos and sniffed it. “I decided to set up camp here to give to those in need, since I have lots to give. My grandkids are somewhere around here, helping as well.” She took out a little red cup from her bag and began serving. “We know how it feels to be in need, but thankfully we also know how it feels to be helped during those times of need. So, we decide to give back. I have gathered these supplies from around town, around the house, around my grandkids’ houses, around the motel.” 

“Oh...that’s really kind of you.” Rascal tilted his head. “Thank you. Do I owe you anything?”

“Nothing at all, my love. Just a smile.” She looked up and smiled. Rascal couldn’t help but muster one for her as well. “I have a little jar of donations if anyone feels inclined to give, however.” She motioned to a small mason jar. There were some coins and dollar bills inside it. 

Rascal eyed it and started digging in his pockets for something to give. He checked his jacket pockets and found some loose coins. He donated them to the jar. “Sorry, it’s all I can find on me right now. But I owe you a lot. My friend’s up there having a minor breakdown and I dunno what to do other than give him stuff and hope for the best.” He rubbed his hands. “It’s also pretty cold around here, and hot chocolate sounds real good.”

“Ah, I hear that. Just give him some space and let him know that he is not alone. It is a frightening world out there.” She poured out another cup and slid the first to Rascal. He took it in his hands, it was still warm. He sipped it. It was sweet, and the flavor curled around his tongue and filled his mouth with chocolaty goodness.

“Oh, that’s good.”

“Isn’t it?” She slid the other cup to him and began pouring a third. “Don’t finish it all, now. I can only pour out three of these, that’s your limit. You’d best share with your friends.” Rascal nodded.

“Will do.”

“Your friend, did he go out earlier? He must have seen something terrible.”

“Oh, he kinda...lost a lot of people. It sucks.”

“It takes everything,” said the bandaged man. “It sweeps through towns and takes everything, then leaves like nothing. Like a storm.” He sipped from his tea.

“He’s seen the beast before. Can you believe it?” said the old lady. “Seeing this thing once is enough.”

“Really? Where?” Rascal cocked a brow.

“Up north, in Rockport. I travel around quite a bit, so I’m used to evacuating and such.” He looked down into his tea. 

“My friend wrote about that town. It was...in the forest, right?”

“Correct. It tried to wipe out a police force sent to investigate it after it had killed the town’s Doctor. One of them, though...I think he was a Sheriff? His name was Mick...Mick Rotner. He basically sacrificed himself for the team, he held it back while everyone ran. I’m pretty sure he’s dead, they couldn’t find his body.” He bit his lip. “Pretty tragic, huh?”

“Hm...” Rascal thought for a bit, then looked back up to the man. “Everyone else in the police force lived, right?”

“Yeah. Pretty sure it was a squad of Sheriffs, a Vigilante, and a Jailor out there. All lived except Mick.”

“Huh...that’s terrible.” Rascal took a sip of hot cocoa. There was another red cup placed by him now. “Our friend who was killed was a Doctor, too. He was taking notes, he took notes about that town.”

“I’m sorry, man.” The other man took a sip from his tea. “Rumor says there’s no way to get ‘em back via retributionist anymore, either. They say their souls linger in the beast and only add more to its power.” He shook his head. “I dunno if they’re true, but if they are...it’s a terrible fate. I can only imagine how much more powerful it is now than it was back then.”

“How long has this thing been around?”

“Probably a year by now. It’s traveled through Massachusetts and hasn’t been killed yet. It’s terrible.” He took another sip. “I remember when it first popped up, and everyone thought it was a myth, another cryptid. Gosh, I wish it were.”

“The rumors say that it was manmade, by a corrupt Necromancer who wanted nothing more than to see the world burn. One more despicable than an Arsonist or Serial Killer.” The old lady shook her head gently, capping up the thermos. “It’s horrible, what man can do.” 

Rascal stayed quiet and sipped his drink. His eyes were a bit wide. The other man studied him curiously before returning focus to his own tea.

“Were you perhaps friends with that fellow passing by here on his own?” The old lady asked, breaking the silence. “He came by with the strangest thing strapped on his chest. It was like a big tea kettle.”

“O-Oh! Yeah, that’s my friend!” Rascal nodded. “I actually came down here for him. I’m supposed to be up there.” He stood and took all three of the cups in his arms.

“Is he alright? He went out alone in the tip top of the morning. I gave him some soup to make sure he didn’t go hungry, but I didn’t see him come back.”

“He’s good. He’s kinda having a breakdown but he’ll be fine after a sip of this.” Rascal smiled. “Thank you. Thank you a lot.”

“Tell him I wish only the best for him. I’m glad he’s safe. You take care of yourself too, sweetheart. Every soul counts around here.” She waved gently. The man seated in front of her turned and waved as well.

“Oh! You, what’s your name, by the way? I hope we can meet again. If my friend...comes back, he might be interested in hearing about you.”

“You can call me Vi,” he said, smiling. “I might not be here by then, I have to keep moving. But don’t worry, Rockport is safe by now, the thing’s down here, isnt it? You’ll find any information you seek there.”

“Thanks, Vi.” Rascal nodded and turned, making his way out and up the stairs once more.

He came back and was greeted to Farrow at the door.

“Took you an awful long time to get that chocolate, huh?”

“Sorry, I met a few nice people. You’re gonna have to share hot chocolates. Save this cup for Mendel and Mari.” He handed him a cup and went to the warmth indoors.

[book-o-scams]

Either 1. Do an analysis on the scene from Run for Your Ed where the Kanker's find that their ship-in-a-bottle is missing. Or if you don't want to do an analysis (please think about doing one though) you can just answer this question. Why is the Kanker's ship-in-a-bottle so important? * If you have any questions see the post on my blog. You have until Sunday to complete the analysis.

I’m excited to do this because ‘Run For Your Ed’ is a really great Kanker episode AND a really great LATER episode.  Season 4′s Kanker episodes have some of the most intentional character-exploration in the show’s entire run, and it’s really nice to see AKA so proactive about developing characters who are usually treated like extras, especially during an era  era where they were having trouble developing the central characters.  This season contains at least 3 episodes that begin from the Kankers’ perspective and humanize their motivations before setting them loose on the cul-de-sac, this being one of those episodes.  This season also contains ‘A Twist of Ed’, an interesting episode that begins from the Eds’ perspective but starts blending in the Kankers’ perspective when the Eds start to turn the tables on them.  It’s disappointing that we don’t really get any Kanker-focused episodes during the digital era of the show, but at least season 5 finally breaks status quo, first by having the Eds publicly declare the Kankers to be their girlfriends, and in the end by scaring the Kankers away for most post-s5 episodes.

Here’s a weird thing I noticed… for the last 3 episodes of season 4, the storyboard credit screen does not actually say “storyboard by.“  And although they are all episodes with the “Tout Le Monde“ credit--  a trend mostly used during seasons 2 and 4, while season 3 had more solo episodes and season 1 wasn’t credited very clearly, it’s a French phrase they use when all of the storyboard artists in the studio contributed pieces of the episode-- earlier instances of “Tout Le Monde“ as late as s4′s ‘Stuck in Ed’ included the “storyboard by“ line.  Kinda seems like an oversight as season 4′s deadlines got tight...  But obviously I know this is nitpicking, regardless it’s very interesting that Danny wanted the show to go out with so many group-effort episodes.  I wonder if perhaps it was to improve morale when everyone was feeling out of ideas?  Or if the artists actually disliked not receiving clearer credit?

Anyway the other reason I wanted to include this screenshot for Kanker appreciation month is that I noticed the Tout Le Monde episodes of seasons 2 and 4 (IIRC, it’s just Homecooked Eds, A Twist of Ed, Run For Your Ed, and technically the movie although it is not credited to Tout Le Monde) produced some of the most iconic Kanker moments and I think the Kankers’ group dynamics are influenced by the team spirit at AKA.

This is the first time we see the trailer park at night and the only time we see it at night without it being buried under snow.

Oh, I also have model sheets archived for this episode!  Here are some color tests using season 1 background lineart:

This episode is the only time we get to see the Kankers all sleeping in their bed, as well as the only time we get to see their pajamas.  I’m fascinated by which characters get pajamas and other sorts of alternate outfits.

So things begin peacefully enough, with Brahms Lullaby, lotsa night ambience, and a cute gag where the Kankers each have their own obnoxious snore that somehow doesn’t wake the others.

But soon enough, one crash downstairs wakes Lee and a second crash wakes Marie. 

The storyboarding seems to be intentionally framing this as the older sisters sharing a feeling of responsibility for their household.

Ohh, I also love whenever we get to see the Kankers scared shitless like this, it’s surprisingly not as rare as you’d think.

Have some cute sleepy Mays:

The girls have each others’ backs as they cautiously look down their staircase.

Thankfully I have the model sheet so we can fully appreciate this perspective:

In a subtle and effectively creepy little bit of animation, all the Kankers see is a tiny tin can rolling out of their kitchen.

Marie and May immediately turn to Lee for their next move.

LOVE this shot with the kitchen light.  Season 4 also has the hands-down BEST trailer backgrounds, we get to see so many interesting perspectives in these episodes.

Lee seemingly lets her sisters stay behind and charges to the kitchen with their wall-mounted swordfish (or is that a marlin…?).

However, the intruder has already left and we get a few more looks at the nighttime trailer park:

Relieved, Lee and Marie jump into the window and bark insults at the intruder.  Another good older sisters sequence, and this one I have a couple storyboard panels for:

They inspect their wrecked kitchen, and at first the background, Lee’s tone and the music sync up to make this look like a really depressing moment, this family with little to begin with having been eaten out of house and home.  And as fans, the next scene’s reveal that this is a redux of Ed’s sleepeating from season 1 is no surprise, and I think it’s being portrayed a bit less amusing now that it’s affecting families outside of Peach Creek’s ritzy suburbs.

But then we get this dramatic shot of Marie holding the table and it always throws off the mood of this scene to me…  I still love the scene as a whole but when Marie whines “why’s it always the good ones that get away!?” while looking at a bite mark out of something inedible, it kind of implies weird things about the Kankers and adult strangers and really any trailer park weirdo who might break in…  Especially after what the Kankers do without a second thought to Bro in BPS, this is more than a bit concerning.  It’s right up there with Marie saying “I LIKE cheaters“ in her second appearance, sometimes Marie’s defining trait in my mind is that she’s somehow LESS rational than the others.. Or maybe it’s just another reference to this specific interest they’ve picked up from their mom, in men who have big appetites…

I always want to believe this is actually a more absurd gag and that Marie is instead saying it to mourn the table where she eats all her meals, in more of a “why do the good die young” way… but then Lee and Marie continue the conversation, referring to this stranger as a bum they shouldn’t shed tears over and it’s cemented as a creepy moment.

Moving on, I love this unnecessarily detailed ketchup bottle Lee shakes and then tosses on the floor:

At least Marie ends up agreeing with Lee.  Then Marie makes a joke about May being the only one to clean this up and it gets a laugh out of Lee.

I love how much the later backgrounds in the show focus on how these homes look from various standpoints… Makes the world feel very lived in.

Take note of how the front door has been eaten through by Ed, exposing their yellow car out front. Ed apparently nibbled on EVERYTHING along that wall on the right…We also see a new telephone, a Chekhov’s Gun for a later gag in this scene…

Love the trumpets blaring as the camera swirls up to the missing heirloom.

“HOLY TOLEDO!” Lee and Marie exclaim in unison to underline that this is crossing a major line.

This angle is making my mouth water.  Latter-day EEnE backgrounds are to die for.

Getting back to my favorite time-wasting Kanker gag, even at their most personally attacked and mutually motivated, the siblings have to fight over who gets to hold the plaque first.

Marie strikes first.

Yay, May called first dibs before they jumped!

OH NO

Lee looks so much like Bro in this pose…

Could these just be Toomey’s drawings?  I’m not sure how often he storyboarded or how often he changed drawings during the design phase since the show’s so close to the boarders’ styles, but I feel like these square jaws are something I keep noticing when archiving Toomey’s model sheets.

Also, I love the phrase “someone shanghaied our ship inna bottle,“ very nautical.

May is moved to tears yet again this season as she fills the audience in on how this is a family heirloom that the Kankers were allowed to play with during bath nights at their old home.  Pretty cute memory, I wish the show had flashbacks at this point!

Does anyone know what it is May calls their old home here?  I’ve always heard it as “the Ol’ Hubcap“ which is convincing enough for me as a name for another local trailer park or just a nickname the Kankers would come up with for a nostalgic home, but it’s difficult to hear through her sobs.  Another popular theory, which I see is currently used on the EEnE Wikia’s transcript of the episode, is that she just says “the ol’ homestead,“ which is a pretty old-timey phrase if you ask me.. May’s certainly not made to feel “modern“ as much as Marie or Nazz are but it also seems unusual to give her such antiquated wild-west dialogue.

Marie covers May’s mouth before she exposes any more vulnerability or personal details about their backstories.

Marie is surprisingly lawful and proposes they call the cops.  I WISH WE GOT TO SEE THE COPS THEY MENTION AND THE FIRETRUCKS WE HEAR LATER IN THIS EPISODE, AAAARRRGGGHHHHH I just want to see more emergency vehicles, this season let us have an ambulance for Pete’s sake!

HEY LOOK IT’S THE PHONE I POINTED OUT.

“WHAT’S THE NUMBER YOU DIAL FOR 9-1-1?!”

Uh.. May, put the phone down, the Little Rascals Movie’s calling, they want their joke back.  Sorry, this episode came out when I was 12 and going through a terrible Little Rascals phase. 

This episode has really good camera direction…

“NO COPS!!“  Why do I get the feeling their mom would punch a phone to prevent the cops from getting involved in anything…

Such good looking backlit sparks!  Gonna miss backlighting during the digital era.

Can’t help but notice that these model sheets have been reversing the rimlighting on the Kankers…

In this very well composed and cinematic feeling shot, Lee vows to find the crook and recover their bath toy, “Kanker Style…“

Cue maniacal laughter and end scene!  It’s a pretty self-explanatory scene, but I really appreciate all the detail put into the Kankers’ poses and expressions and home life.  Season 4 doesn’t always sit right with me, but I think this episode has a pretty fun understanding of every character.  Hope you enjoyed studying this scene with me!

[puzzletreeguy]

Laughter part 5

Their search for the exit continued. As time passed, they became more and more desperate. The light on the bearer’s hand was slowly fading away and Krenan didn’t take his eyes away from it for a single second.

At last he saw the first sign of hope: six crystals of different colors forming a star. The last mark Krenan saw before they were lost, now they only needed to remember the rest of the way back.

Suddenly, like a rat entering a hole, a low sound came sneaking up to the boy’s ears. He became worried about his friend.

- Are you okay? - Krenan said, turning his face to Arlina.

- I was about to ask you the same thing - said Arlina - How can you still be fine, knowing we may be lost here forever?!

- I didn’t say I was fine! - he could see she was angry and in panic, but he was no different from her.

Their voices went silent again, when it came again.

- Are you hearing this? - the boy asked, with his companion shaking her head in agreement.

———————————–

When he opened the door, his wife rushed to his arms, crying and weak due to her flu.

- What’s wrong dear? - the husband asked - Did anything happen?

- Yes, something did happen! - the wife said, this tine with a more frustrated voice - Krenan went out again!

She told him the boy was not in his room and the lantern was gone. Where has he gone? The only place that caught the boy’s imagination was the mine. With the cold that fell upon the village, the child would not survive for long on the outside, or worse, he could get himself lost in that mine and never be found.

After discovering his son was missing, the man left the house imediately. He went to his brother’s place.

- Jen! - He screamed while heavely knocking the door.

It took a while for Jen to open the door, he was in shock for the sudden knock.

- Kall? - Jen answered while yawning - Anything wrong, brother?

- Krenan is missing, again. He may be lost in the mine right now.

By hearing that, Jen wiped the sleep out of his face and got himself ready.

Just before they left, Saim came running straight to them.

- Are you going after that little rascal? - the man started with an agressive tone.

- Don’t tell me he took Arlina with him? - uncle Jen said with no surprise in his eyes.

- Yes, he took my daughter with him - Saim’s voice was in a mix of anger and worry. - my little daughter.

- Let’s wake the others, we need to find those kids - said Jen.

- Bring my daughter back, leave that wretch there, where he belongs!

- You don’t speak like that of my son! - the sound of revolt came out of Kall’s mouth.

- All right, the two of you! - Jen took the lead, reestablishing the order. - Just go get the others of the team, we need to find those two quickly!

- And we need the medicines ready, in case they are wounded - Kall complemented just before leaving to the other houses.

——��——————————–

It was a very low and squeaky sound, like the sick throat of an old man. Did they just hear another breath?

May someone have noticed they were gone and came to get them? Krenan rose his lantern and pointed it in all directions, hoping to be uncle Jen, who best knew the mine, his father, anyone who worked in the mine. He would be the happiest boy in the world, even if it was Bean, the old bulk with bronchitis.

No one was in sight, much to his dismay.

That low breath continued, but this time, alongside an even lower sound of movement. Both appeared to be coming from all directions. There was someone or something with them in that mine.

The boy kept swinging the lantern around as Arlina held his left arm tightly. When the weak light passed breefly through the way they came from, in less than a second, Krenan saw, or he thought he saw, a bare foot moving something larger just above their heads. It moved away from them, disappearing on the darkness before they could see the full being. But the noise was still present. Whatever that thing was it was still close and it was following them.

The kids quicked their pace, walking as fast as they could, keeping an eye on their back, then a quick run across that endless tunnel and finally a stop to take a breath. Both took a seat near a large rock which covered their view from the way behind them. At last the lantern was resting on the floor, along with Krenan’s arm and the rest of the boy’s body. Arlina laid herself next to him, trying to get a comfortable position. But that was nothing more than a fantasy, with the rocks hurting her even if she foulded her nightdress over them and it was getting wet and cold when in contact with the water running through the wall and its light blue color being replaced by the black and brown of dirt. Krenan couldn’t get himself comfortable either, squeezed between his friend and the rock. Both were feeling cold and were having more difficulty to breathe in that already poor air.

No section of the tunnel had crystals to enlight their surroundings. The darkness in front and behind them was unchanged and the lantern’s light was slowly fading away, thanks to the crystals’ exaustion due to their age and Krenan had no matches to light up the oil in the lower compartment to give an extra light, and the darkness was getting stronger and deeper by the minute. If they couldn’t find any other light source any time soon, they would be lost forever in that forsaken place, at the mercy of whatever was after them.

They were almost loosing to their tireness when the sound of moving steps became louder and a voice became distinguishable.

It was not a voice like someone was talking, but laughing or crying in a hoarse sound, like someone with a cold - but there was no coughing - and other very specific traces:

It was a sequence of five sounds - the first mute but noticeable and the other four with identical hoarse timbre and little variation in height and intensity - happening during an interval of one to two seconds, followed by the sound of sniffing. It was tracking their smell!

Slowly the laughter became louder and louder, sounding more frustrated than satisfied. Now they could hear its breath becoming harder and more intense - breaking a little of the previous repetitive rhithm, giving place to a frequent agonizing groan - with bubbles forming and foam and saliva falling from the creature’s mouth and the smell. Aaah! The smell of rotten meat and leaves with mud! So terrible that Krenan could swear it smelled worse than all horse poop in the world put together, mixed with a lot of skunk spray, filling an entire mine tunnel.

The kids cringed themselves against the rock, together - with Krenan’s left arm around Arlina, keeping her as close as possible - avoiding being in the creature’s vision field. Arlina was the most scared of the two. As her entire body shaked, Krenan noticed she was crying in silence, with her knees held by her arms and just about to scream.

With cold sweat running over his face, almost panicking and without looking around, the boy groped the floor as he tried to find his lantern. When he did, Krenan thought for a second:

“If I shut the light down for a while, it may go away without seeing us.”