#i also like the interpretation that he's trying to stop his fangs from dropping

[userarmand]

armand's mask slipping

[glassessence]

Elriel Hint and Analysis - includes analysis of Feysand & Nessian (ACOSF Spoilers)

I’m pretty new to the fandom, but I am currently obsessed with Elriel. This is my ship and I will go down with it until the day I die. As a fairly casual reader, I honestly had zero doubts the next book would be Elain’s and that the couple would be Elriel. 

Then I discovered the existence of the extra POV chapters and Azriel’s threw me in for a bit of a loop. Especially with the ending (which I genuinely believe is a red herring. I lean very heavily into the lightsinger Gwyn theory).

However, stalking Tumblr made me come across this again: 

Life and death and rebirth

Sun and moon and dark

Rot and bloom and bones

Hello, sweet thing. Hello, lady of night, princess of decay. Hello, fanged beast and trembling fawn. 

Love me, touch me, sing me.

And then my brain accidentally vomited an essay on the symbolism in each sister’s journey... 

Life and death and rebirth so clearly symbolise Feysand’s journey. Feyre leaves behind her life of poverty for a brand new one with Tamlin. She journeys Under the Mountain for love of him and ultimately succeeds in saving not just him, but all of them. In the process, she dies. Not just in the physical sense, but spiritually too. Feyre the human perishes, giving rise to Feyre the High Fae. In a purely physical sense, this is definitely a rebirth. But it’s stilted, incomplete. She’s the newly born phoenix - young, fragile and yet covered in the ashes of its fiery death. Her spiritual rebirth lags behind her newly changed body. Like a bird in a cage, she is trapped in Tamlin’s realm, unable to finish developing, to spread wings and fly. 

That all changes when she is whisked away to the Night Court. She learns to read and some of the ash falls from her body. She makes friends and some more ash is brushed away by the Inner Circle. The final remnants of ash are blown away by the taste of freedom and the kiss of wind, and Feyre’s rebirth is finally complete. Spiritually and physically, she is changed. She becomes Feyre the High Lady. From life back to life, she is returned through the power of love. Take note that while love is important in all the sisters’ journeys, it is the focal point and highlight of Feyre’s. She is someone who has never been loved in that wholesome, selfless way Rhysand loves her. Tamlin was possessive and abusive; Nesta was barbed and sharp. Elain was fragile and ethereal. Love was something she had never really known and consequently something she desperately, desperately needed. That’s why the phrase that symbolises her is love me.

Sun and moon and dark refers very much to Nessian. Nesta is the sun and she is burning. Has been burning for a long, long time. She is aflame, nothing but ashes inside, and her words are fire. She scalds anyone who dares approach, just as everything melts before the sun. Like Feyre, she has had her physical rebirth, but not her spiritual one. She is trapped in her own head, locked behind her own self-hatred, her own raging inferno that yields to no one. Like Feyre, she is also a phoenix, but one whose fire never stopped. In that sense, she has never died. Her spiritual rebirth is not simply incomplete; it has never happened.

Until she starts training with Cassian. Until she starts befriending Emerie and Gwyn. This is what marks the death of Nesta the human and the emergence of Nesta the High Fae. (I use the term ‘human’ loosely here, mostly as a way of conveying my point about her spiritual journey rather than the state of her physical being). She loses her solar flare, that inner blaze that was killing her and blackening her soul. She mellows from unapproachable sun to a softer moon. It’s here that she stays a while, seeming to progress and regress in her healing journey as the moon waxes and wanes. It’s not until the hiking scene that she finally breaks. She weeps despite Cassian’s expectations to the contrary. Through her tears, she finally extinguishes the long-raging fire and hatred that has been destroying her. No more blazing sun, no more wavering moon. Only darkness to cradle her, and acceptance. Through Cassian’s ceaseless efforts and her friends, her journey reaches its apex. She finally becomes Nesta the Valkyrie. 

Her journey hinges heavily upon the fact that nobody could reach her through the flames. Nobody had kept trying after getting burned again and again. Nobody except Cassian. He reaches out, time after time, even when she hurts him. Even when she burns him. Until he succeeds and touches her soul. That’s why the phrase that symbolises her is touch me.

Of course that leaves only the last line: rot and bloom and bones. I wonder who this could symbolise! Surely not the Archeron sister who is associated with roses and has a complicated romance dilemma with someone from the Autumn Court (rot) and someone else from the Night Court (bones)! Surely not!

Jokes aside, I strongly believe this line reveals Elain’s journey. If we continue thinking of the words as a progression, I think it makes a lot of sense. Keeping in mind the theme of life, death and rebirth, this is how I think of it: 

Life / Rot / stagnation, the start of the journey

Death / Bloom / change, the start of healing

Rebirth / Bones / ascendance and acceptance, the start of the future

There are several interesting things to note about the sentence: 

The word bloom is nestled among rot and bones

Elain’s two potential love interests both have strong associations with those words

I’ll address each point as we delve into Elain’s analysis. 

Let’s start with Elain the human. As previously established, this is when the character is at their worst, blind in the dark before the dawn. I see this as Elain’s forced transformation by the Cauldron. Everything she knows is ripped away from her and her marriage crumbled to dust. She is thrust into a world both unknown and at war. She emerges changed and cursed with powers she cannot control and does not understand. Her life, once a slow-blooming flower, has just rotted into nothing. She is lost, confused and deeply depressed. Her physical rebirth may be complete, but her spiritual rebirth cannot begin until she gathers the shattered pieces of herself back together.

This happens slowly. So slowly, in fact, that it’s hard to notice and easy to dismiss. She befriends Nuala and Cerridwen. Begins gardening again. Talks to the Inner Circle and buys them gifts for Solstice. Slowly, so very slowly, she is starting to piece herself back together. Off-page, she quietly unravels Elain the human and emerges from her cocoon as Elain the High Fae. Like a wilted flower that has dropped its petals, a new season has come, bringing with it new buds. She is blooming, opening herself to new possibilities for companionship, love and for a new self to rise to the surface. But blooms are fragile, newly born things. Elain hasn’t dealt with the full force of her trauma, of her lifelong lack of choice (I’m not going to delve into this as there are so many amazing analyses out there!). She is a trembling fawn, still trying to learn how to walk.

But her spiritual rebirth will remake her. Bones. It’s so different from the previous two words that it really leaves an impact. Blooms rot and fade. Flesh breaks and dies. But bones are strong, the frame that holds up our entire beings. Bones are unyielding and solid, taking no other shape like blood nor bruising like flesh. I see this as Elain standing up for herself, unswayed by external forces that have always governed her life and breaking away from the fragile flower people have always thought she was. By cutting away the rotting flesh, she will reveal the backbone beneath and ascend as Elain the Kingslayer/Seer. 

Of course, closely tied to each sister’s personal growth arc is her love interest. For me, I don’t see it going any other way than Azriel. 

SJM chose rot not only to represent the ‘life’ section of Elain’s personal journey, but also to represent Lucien. He has connections to the Autumn Court, a season that is often associated with decay and rot, but also with harvest and bounty. Highlighting the negative aspects of autumn invokes a strong sense of wrongness. Lucien is not right for her. Not to say anything bad about his character; he’s just not right for Elain. His presence in the books eats away at her newfound boldness; he rots away the path she is trying to carve for herself. 

On the other hand, Azriel is closely tied with death, with blood and bones and shadow. He’s not only Rhys’ spymaster, he’s also his torturer. His association is with bones, a word that invokes a sense of everlasting, of persevering beyond death. Bones is also used to describe the ‘rebirth’ section of Elain’s personal growth arc, the final aspect that leads to ascendance, and acceptance of one’s past and present. Meanwhile, bloom represents Elain herself and the ‘death’ portion of her story, the aspect that heralds change and healing. 

Rot, bloom and bones represent both her personal journey and her love interests. It’s all intrinsically linked. Lucien is ‘life’ and stagnation, Elain is ‘death’ and change, and Azriel is ‘rebirth’ and acceptance. As a progression, this is how I interpret the sentence: 

By rejecting the bond with Lucien, she is stepping into herself and forging something everlasting with Azriel.

Lastly, let’s not forget that the phrase symbolising her is sing me. This didn’t make much sense to me until I read Azriel’s bonus POV. In it, he confesses to Gwyn that he does sing. Why include this if it’s not a subtle callback to this prophetic paragraph in ACOMAF? It feels like a treat to hardcore fans who like finding all the little connections (since they’re the ones most likely to have read the bonus chapters). The fact that Gwyn also sings signals to me there’s an important plot point regarding song. Maybe homegirl Elain will be forced to throw a hardcore metal concert to save Az XD Wouldn’t that be a plot twist HAHAHA. 

I don’t know when SJM started planting seeds for Elriel in any serious capacity, so perhaps I am reading WAY too much into this. Either way, I am super keen for the next book!

Please feel free to comment and let me know your thoughts! I am desperate for Elriel right now hahaha. Thanks for reading! 

OH, BUT ONE MORE THING. 

The greetings are really interesting. Sweet thing obviously refers to Feyre. Lady of night and princess of decay are clearly meant for Nesta. 

Fanged beast and trembling fawn are left for Elain. It’s easy to write this off as being about her LI and herself, respectively, but I don’t know. The sentences build upon each other. A single moniker grows to two - the first separated by a comma, the second expanding to use an and. It’s something you see a lot in poetry, generally used to emphasise a point. I’m not entirely sure what the point is; it might just be a nice writing flourish, but wouldn’t it be interesting if both those statements were referring to Elain herself? Wouldn’t it just be juicy? 

[nessinborderland]

Be Mine (04)

Pairing: Niragi x Reader / Chishiya x Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff, Omegaverse

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You were able to stay unbounded throughout your life. You didn’t want an Alpha; you didn’t need one. You would rather die than to give yourself to some random male. But the man that saved your life thinks differently.

Warnings: Alpha/Omega, Dubious Consent, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger fucking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Drama, Developing Relationship, Past Abuse, Scars, Death, Blood and Gore, Animal Death

Notes: Okay so, not much to say about this chapter. You'll find out why :) Please mind the new tags :) we don't want anyone getting triggered here. Fun fact: every time I write "x growled" I imagine Perry the platypus from Phineas and Ferb doing his signature growl lmao. Cracks me up every time :D

AO3 Link        Masterlist

Game, “Akazukin: Red Riding Hood.”

Everyone’s eyes are locked on the screen.

“Red Riding Hood has to run from the Big Bad Wolf while being protected by the Huntsman,” starts the robotic voice. “One person will be Red Riding Hood, while the others will be divided into two groups: the Big Bad Wolf and the Huntsman.”

“What the- “

“Clear conditions,” the voice continues, “Whoever manages to bring Red Riding Hood to the final checkpoint, wins. The time limit is thirty minutes. After thirty minutes, the losing group dies. If after thirty minutes no one is in possession of Red Riding Hood, both groups die. Is instant Game Over if Red Riding Hood dies or refuses to follow the rules.”

You were terrified of this tale as a child; you had nightmares of an actual wolf coming in the night and devouring you and your mom. Then you had grown up and realized how the tale could be interpreted as a warning to Omegas when it comes to Alphas and their manipulative nature. That hadn’t changed your opinion on the story.

The screen changes to white.

“Now for the groups,” says the voice once again, “Red Riding Hood- “

You gasp; it’s you. It’s a picture of you. You’re Red Riding Hood.

“Big Bad Wolf- “

Your eyes go wide again; Niragi and Chishiya.

“How unoriginal of them,” you hear Chishiya remark with a huff.

“The Huntsman-” and it shows the faces of everybody else in the game. There’s a pregnant pause where everyone just stares down at their phones as it dings.

“Rules,” reads the voice, “No outside weapons allowed. There are axes, as well as other useful weapons hidden throughout the area that are only to be used by the Huntsman. The Big Bad Wolf is not allowed to use any weapons besides the ones already in their possession.”

“What weapons?” you ask no one in specific as you look at Chishiya and Niragi.

They both raise their hands as Chishiya simply replies, “Claws.”

You make a surprised sound, “How are you supposed to protect yourselves like that!?”

They both look at you, and this time is Niragi that says, “I don’t know about this dog but I can do a lot with these.” You don’t fail to notice the threat in his voice as he looks down at Chishiya. The other man just huffs out a laugh.

“The game will commence in five minutes,” says the voice in a cheery tone, “Use that time wisely.”

A commotion erupts as everyone starts realizing what the game consists of. You can’t believe it yourself; you’re nothing more than a pawn in this game. Shouts of “We have to fight two Alphas to death?” and “We can do this, there’s a lot of us.” start all around you. Someone is crying. Some people just run into the dark. You ignore the loud voices around you and focus on your phone as it lights up.

If you stop running or hiding, it’s game over. If you show yourself to the Wolf, it’s game over. If you try to cheat in any way, game over. 

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump. Niragi is looking at you with that expression you hate; betrayal and pain. But now there's also serious determination.

"No matter what you do, you can't stop running," he says. "This seems way too easy for a Ten of Spades, so watch your back."

"What about you?" you ask, eager to cover his hand with yours.

"Oh, so now you worry about me?" he retorts with a bite to his words. You can't help but flinch when his hand drops to his side and his expression changes to a mean smirk. "I'll live so I can kill that motherfucker and make you regret the moment you fucked him." 

"Niragi I- " 

"Save it," he turns your back to you. "I don't wanna hear it." 

You see him walk away, approaching the two other militants that came with him. At least the imminent game made him pause his murder attempt. You take a glance at Chishiya, who is still focused on the screen. You wonder what is going through his head; if you know something about Chishiya is that he always catches details others don’t.

"You!" someone pushes you in the back, and you fall to your knees before you can balance yourself "Who the hell are you?”

Two different growls sound at the same time someone lunges themselves to whoever pushed you. You look up to see Chishiya in front of you in a protective stance. You take the hand he offers you and stand up to see Niragi, currently on the ground punching a man.

“Niragi stop!” you scream. He either ignores you or doesn’t hear you. No one else tries to stop it either; Chishiya simply because he doesn’t care, and everyone else out of fear. The man being beaten tries to fight back but is clearly at a disadvantage. You gasp when you see Niragi’s fingers take the shape of claws. You jump, grabbing his arm before he can slice the man right in the face. “Stop!”

Niragi looks back at you with yellow eyes, and you see as his hand takes a human form again. You pull him out of the crying and bleeding man on the ground. He doesn’t make any effort to stop you. His eyes are locked on you, still animal-like.

“You- you’re part of the game, aren’t you!?” coughs the man Niragi had punched. He sits down holding his nose, quickly dragging himself away from the other man. “You- you have to be!”

“E- Excuse me? you shakily ask in a confused tone. 

“You’re not even a player, you’re just part of the game!” the man continues, “Are you gonna tell me that is a coincidence that this game is the way it is?! All you have to do is follow some rules! You live either way!”

You shake your head, “I- I am not sure what you’re implying, but I have nothing to do with this!" you reply. You confess that yes, you think it’s a big coincidence you got the role you got, but you’re not involved. You had no idea.

The man takes a step in your direction, but Niragi puts himself in the way.

“Watch it,” he says in a commanding tone. “Remember who you’re talking to.” The man holds his stare for a moment, before looking down and taking a step back. Niragi turns to the rest of the group. “Whatever you shitheads are thinking, she’s not involved in any of this. So, unless you wanna die before the game even begins, I advise you to shut up and focus on the game.” The corner of his lips pull up in a smirk, and you see the glint of fangs. “May the best wolf win.”

He then turns to you and your eyes lock. You want to talk to him, explain how and why things happened the way they happened. But you can’t say anything, not when he steps closer with a look in his eyes you can’t quite place.

“You’re wasting time, go!” Niragi orders as he pushes you forward. You stumble a little as you start walking into the dark park. You look back at him and Chishiya, and you nod to each other; they will be able to find you. You’ll be alright. They will be alright.

You bolt into the night. You can barely see anything in the dark, except for the shadows that the moonlight helps casting. You just know you have to run, or you’re dead; they’re dead. The conversation from moments ago keeps playing in your head; could it be possible that this game was made specifically for you? But how would they know that the three of you would be in the same game? It sounded so far fetched; but also...possible.

Hunting horns blast through the air, making you jump and cover your ears at the awful sound. You know what it means.

Game Start.

You start hearing rustling and footsteps behind you as the other players soon follow in your steps; if to catch you or find a weapon, that you don't know. You keep running until you’re out of breath, stopping for just a few seconds behind a large tree. Your legs are shaking and your lungs are burning. The area around you is silent though, and that gives you some peace of mind. You close your eyes and sniff the air. Nothing. 

You’re about to start running again to look for an actual hiding place when a sound makes you freeze in your tracks.

A howl.

And not from a regular wolf. You recognize it instantly.

Never in your life had you heard a werewolf howl until now. After the war, an Alpha fully transforming very rarely happened. The ones that did only transformed in extreme situations, usually to protect a loved one. The regular individual would not transform not even once in his lifetime. And here you are, hearing two of them. It awakes something primitive in you, and every single hair on your body stands up in a shiver. You have an impulse to howl too, but control it at the last second; you’re not doing that. You’re not an animal, as much as the wolf inside you likes to prove you wrong.

You’re startled when a hand covers your mouth, something cold pressing against your neck. You try to move, but the blade nibs at your skin. So you stop, trying to control your breathing.

“Don’t you dare to make a sound.” whispers a male voice. “I’ll chop a finger for every sound you make.”

You give a trembling nod, letting yourself be dragged by the unknown man. He’s way taller and stronger than you, so you don’t even try to fight back. You notice he’s not alone. What seems to be two young girls walk behind you, whispering in agitated voices. 

“Kai, are you sure the checkpoint is this way?” asks one of the girls in a low tone.

The man grabbing you, Kai, shushes her and stops. You can hear him sniff the air, probably looking for signs of an Alpha close by. He suddenly pushes you against a nearby tree and locks eyes with you. You’re surprised to see that Kai is not much older than a highschool boy.

“Mira, press this against her neck,” he whispers to one of the girls. She approaches you, trembling hands holding the small ax against your skin. The boy stabilizes her grip before nodding, “Don’t let her move or make a sound,” he says looking into the girl’s eyes. “If you do and those Alphas hear us, we all die.”

If you’re honest with yourself, you would stay quiet either way; the last thing you want is the blood of those kids in your hands. You watch as Kai takes a map from his pocket, opening it and analyzing it for a few moments.

“If this map can be trusted I’m pretty sure the checkpoint is this house right here,” he points at a place on the map and then ahead on the path, “About three kilometers that way. We can do this.” he checks his phone. “C’mon, we only have about twenty minutes.”

You have been walking for a short moment when the smell hits you.

One of them is close; Niragi, you’re pretty sure. The others smell him too, and you notice in the dark as their eyes widen in a panic and they start running, pulling you with them. You can hear him as he gets closer, like a monster in the night. You try to ignore the exhilarating feeling that goes through you at being chased by him; it’s just like the first time you met.

One of the girls trips and falls right behind you. You flinch at hearing her screaming get louder until it abruptly stops. The other two kids hesitate before Kai stops, pushing you and the other girl to keep running. The girl, Mira, grabs your hand as you both run, and you can hear her crying.

A far away whimper of pain makes you stop in your tracks; one of the Alphas was injured.

“We have to go, please!” begs Mira as she pulls your hand, “Please, we have to-”

Mira’s words are cut short when she falls and you’re pulled down with her. You gasp in pain as you hit the ground, arm stretched into whatever hole the girl fell into. You hear a scream, then silence, as you hear a sound you can’t quite place. It’s dark and you’re not sure of your surroundings, but you could swear that hole on the ground wasn’t there seconds ago.

You’re about to ask if she is okay when the metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils. You squint in the dark, trying to see something in the black hole. The moonlight appears out of nowhere, and you can finally see. You gag when you notice the contorted body of the girl, now impaled in wood spikes. Her eyes are wide, mouth open in a permanent scream.

There are traps.

There are traps everywhere and you can’t see them.

You drag yourself away from the hole, feeling a panic attack start to form as you struggle to get air inside your lungs. You try to shake the image of the dead girl from your mind, shakily rising to your feet. Your phone gives an alarming beep, and you take a look at the screen to realize you have been in the same place for too long. You have to keep moving.

You shake the tears from your eyes and walk by the hole without a second look. 

A scream far behind you snaps you out of your stupor, and you immediately take off running again. You don’t want to think about what might be happening. Despite their numbers, you can’t imagine how Betas can ever win against two fully transformed Alphas.

You’re running through an open field now, surrounded by flowers that you can barely see. A noise to your left makes you look at the line of trees, but you can’t find the source of the sound. 

You’re so distracted that you don’t notice the open trap right in front of you.

You scream as the dented iron snaps around your ankle, pain sparking up your leg. You fall to the ground like a bag of potatoes, and immediately try to open the trap up. But you’re not strong enough, and the iron teeth just dig deeper into your skin. You control a sob as the pain and panic grow; you have to keep moving. You have to hide. A sound, now closer, makes you stop whimpering, and you hold your breath as you see them.

No, not Niragi and Chishiya.

No, not the Huntsman either.

Wolves. Real, wild, one hundred percent animal wolves. A pack of them. No more than twenty meters from you.

You stay still, hoping that they won’t take an interest in you.

But no. Of course that’s not what happens. 

You look around for something to defend yourself with, but you’re defenseless. Here you are, trapped, wounded, on the ground, and without any means of defending yourself. The wolves approach you slowly, like they know you have no means of escaping. They start surrounding you.

“Stay away!” you scream, shaking your arms in hope that the movement will scare them away. “Shoo!”

It does not.

One of the bigger wolves prepares himself to jump. You close your eyes with a sob, waiting for the moment they will tear you apart. 

He’s here.

You feel the air shift as a big dark form covers you. You’re now completely involved in his scent; cinnamon and wood. You keep your eyes closed and brace yourself. The air is filled with the sound of growls and whimpers and teeth ripping flesh. Something warm and wet splatters on you and you know it’s blood. A loud whimper of pain, a strange mix between a wolf and a human, makes you snap your eyes open.

In the moonlight, he’s huge. Terrifying. Beautiful. Bodies of wolves are on the ground. The survivors try to fight the much bigger werewolf. His fur is black as a raven’s feathers, thick and glossy and matted with blood. You can’t look away until he’s done.

Niragi is clearly tired and injured. Saliva drips from his open jaws as he takes labored breaths. He turns to you, and you notice one of his paws is practically mangled, a shine of white bone contrasting with the black fur. A big oozing laceration runs down one of his flanks, and you’re not sure if it was done by an axe or a wolf.

You snap out of your freezing state and make a move to go to him. You scream when the trap still around your ankle makes itself known. He’s on you in less than a second, hovering over you as his snout touches your leg lightly. You can’t resist the temptation to touch him, grabbing the fur of his neck and pressing your face against him.

You feel him when he suddenly changes back into a human, and your face is now pressed on his bare skin. You notice he’s naked, pale skin now almost fully covered in blood and dirt. A cut you haven’t noticed in his wolf form now clearly shows on his forehead, making blood run down his face like a waterfall.

“Niragi-” is all you manage to say. You want to cry, ask him if he’ll be okay. You panic again when you notice how much time you have left; probably not more than ten minutes. Niragi says nothing as he focuses on opening the trap with a grunt. You let out a cry of relief as the thing leaves your ankle. The wound bleeds profusely, so you take off your top, tying a makeshift bandage around the injury with the help of Niragi.

He finally looks you in the eyes as he helps you to your feet, supporting you against him.

“Y/N we-”

That’s all he manages to say.

The next moments happen so fast you can barely process it. 

An arrow comes flying out of nowhere, burying itself into Niragi’s chest. His eyes go wide as he looks at you, a surprised expression in his eyes. You watch him with an open mouth as his eyes turn to gold for a moment. Then he falls to the ground. Rough hands grab you and pull you. Someone is screaming; you realize later that it’s you. Other voices laugh and they sound...excited? Happy? You can’t understand why. You trash around in an effort to get free. Whoever grabbed you punches you right in the face. For a moment, all you see is black with sparks of white. You hear a faint, “We only have five minutes!”. No. Niragi and Chishiya have to find you. They promised. They can’t die. Then you’ll be alone again.

Someone screams again. Loud voices. People running all around you. You hit the ground with force enough to take the air out of your lungs. Someone tries to grab you again, but their grip disappears like they have been pulled away. Tears are streaming down your face, but you can’t open your eyes. You can’t stand up. You hear the familiar sound of a wolf growl.

Niragi? 

No; peppermint and rain. 

Then you feel something warm touching you. You feel soft fur under your skin. Then it’s like you’re flying. You grab onto whatever is moving under you out of instinct. You know you have to hold on tight. You try to focus, but it’s too much. 

Then nothing. Darkness. You’re not sure if you lost consciousness or not. A loud sound, similar to a siren, is what makes you open your eyes. You’re on the ground, stone cold under you as you try to sit up, covering your eyes from the sudden bright lights. 

A cheery tone comes from your pocket. You stare at the phone; Game clear.

You finally look around, and there he is.

A big white wolf. 

Not as big as Niragi, but still impressive. His white fur is covered in blood; if his or someone else’s, you can’t say. Your vision turves as you try to stand up and lose your balance. He catches you before you can fall, teeth gently grabbing your jacket. You stare at him in confusion; what the hell just happened? A spark of pain makes you look down at your ankle. Memories come rushing back.

You gasp. No. It can’t be.

“Chishiya, where’s Niragi?” you ask in a trembling voice. His cold eyes stare at you for a moment too long. You’re about to make a move to find Niragi yourself when the white wolf changes right in front of you. Like Niragi, the man is naked and mostly covered in blood. There’s a cut on his arm, still bleeding. A wave of concern runs over you, and you feel yourself panic even more. He sighs before his eyes lock on you.

“He’s dead.”

Next Chapter

[undertaker1827]

Hi! May I request some Halloween headcanons (12, 13 and 29) for Sebastian and Undertaker, please?

By the way I love your blog! Have a nice day!🖤

Hello and yes you can!! This is my first thing using the Halloween prompts 😁🎃 Aw thank you, you have a nice day too. Hope you enjoy!

12] Doing your best to terrify kids who come to your door trick or treating

13] Terrifying each other (jumping out from behind doors and screaming, etc)

29] Doing each other’s makeup for your costumes

Masterlist

-

Undertaker

Right so it took you and Undertaker literal hours to get your costumes just right

He went as the stereotypical grim reaper (he found the human interpretation of them to be desperately amusing)

So a black hooded cloak, skull makeup and even though you could only see part of his face with the bangs, the makeup reached right up to his hairline

He’d gotten you to assist with the fine details, though he’d already done a pretty good job with it

You ended up sat across his lap with your elbows braced against his shoulders to get the lines just right, repeatedly whacking his arm to make him stop laughing and potentially messing up all your hard work

You on the other hand went as a zombie

That was a full out body paint affair and it took even longer than the mortician’s

You were beyond proud of the results, even if Undertaker had felt the need to make a bunch of little changes, claiming “The devil’s in the details, love”

He had also wasted a scarily short amount of time before taking a knife to your costume, claiming you hadn’t ripped it up enough to be a zombie

This had all happened early in the morning on the day of Halloween

You then took every opportunity throughout the entire day to terrify each other

Undertaker hid in coffins and allowed them to slowly creak open just as you had turned away, making the hairs stand up on the back of your neck and a shiver crawl up your spine

You glance cautiously out of the corner of your eye then quickly tur around to the coffin in question, only to find it empty with the lid open

That leaves you trying to rationalise the event away, only for Undertaker to scream and grab you from behind, leaving a trail of kisses across your neck and laughing at how your body trembles in his arms

If you try and push him away his hold on you just tightens, he can’t help but laugh more and pull you impossibly closer to his chest, teasing you for how jumpy you are whilst you hide your face in his robes

Of course that doesn’t last for long, because you need to get revenge

You hid under his desk, behind practically every door he walked through and even in a kitchen cupboard, but you never once manage to get a reaction out of him

He just grins at you and says hello, pulling you into a bear hug

You exclaim in the end, utterly exasperated, how could he possibly not so much as blink in surprise

The mortician dissolves into a giggling fit, and it turns out eventually that his senses as a reaper (especially one who hasn’t worn the glasses he so desperately needs in over a century) are fine tuned so excellently that he knows exactly where you are pretty much all the time

That somewhat takes the wind out of your sails, but you will not be defeated

The fact that you still jumped out at him, even knowing what he just told you, simply makes him laugh all the harder

When it starts getting dark, you two prepare multiple bowls of Halloween candy for trick or treaters

The whole front of the shop is decorated to the nines, usual display of coffins covered in swathes of cotton cobweb, a zombie climbing out of one and the biggest, scariest spider you could find hanging off the ‘Undertaker’ sign

You have plastic decorations over the little window to make the glass look like its been shattered, along with a bloody handprint on the inside

You have several carved pumpkins on the old cobblestones outside the shop, terrifying faces carved by both of you and candles burning proudly

There are also a couple of burning, decorative lanterns and headstone or two

Overall, the pair of you are the best decorated in the area and simultaneously loved and feared for it

The first trick or treater to knock on the electronic doorbell (a seasonal special which screams instead of rings) is met with you stumbling outside and groaning, arms held out in front of you and eyes unfocused, with Undertaker silently drifting out behind you, his scythe (the real one, much to your dismay when you realised) slung over his shoulder and burning green eyes staring down the children in front of you

It’s the loudest you’ve ever heard anyone scream and it’s all the two of you can do to keep in character, though you break the façade to start laughing a short while later

You give the kids as many treats as you think they can eat, then bid them on their way

Once you both disappear creepily back into the parlour, you start laughing together once more

You end up standing there and holding each other close for a moment, sharing kisses and generally discussing how thrilled you both are over how well this Halloween is going

Sebastian

Sebastian goes over to your place for Halloween

He arrives about halfway through the day, armed with the costume he plans on wearing

He’s going as a vampire and you absolutely cannot wait to see the result

You, as an inside joke with him, are going to be a demon

Even Sebastian had to laugh when you announced that, he was utterly delighted by the prospect

You start getting ready later in the day (especially when compared to Undertaker), though by no means is it late when you begin

Sebastian is dressed all in black, naturally pale skin not needing any extra makeup

He doesn’t so much as need to wear plastic fangs, just allowing his own canines to extend enough to be obvious, then letting his irises bleed to crimson rather than wearing contacts to provide the same affect

The demon also has a black cloak (it seems very authentically Victorian to you) with a massive collar which flares out behind him whenever he moves

He really looks the part

Your costume, on the other hand, takes far more doing

You also wear all black, but the effort that goes into your makeup (a joint effort) to make you look sufficiently demonic (as decided by Sebastian) is phenomenal

It takes you both well over an hour and you look utterly terrifying by the end of it

Your nails are painted black and your eyes are dark and smoky, irises shining out brightly

Your partner thinks you look fabulous, however no costume is complete without pints of fake blood

You cover Sebastian in it, delicately though - he’s a tasteful vampire, none of this destroying your food and leaving carnage in your wake

You get him to put some on you as well and to your dismay he does so sparingly, getting you to tilt your head back so the drops he places on your face roll down to your jawline

He also puts a little on hour bare hands, claiming less is more

When you finally see yourself in the mirror, you realise that how he’s done it is absolutely brilliant and gives the perfect effect

Cue ‘what kind of vampire would I be if I couldn’t do as small a task as this’

Sebastian goes off not long after you finish to make some last minute checks on your various decorations - the front of your house looks like the entrance to a gothic manor thanks to the collective effort the two of you put in

Of course there’s also pumpkins on the front step and ghostly silhouettes in the windows

You go into the kitchen to check over the stuff you need for trick or treaters, entirely unaware that the demon has reappeared in the doorway

He comes up behind you totally silent until hu suddenly lunges for you, as arm around your ribs and the other low on your waist as he pulls you, screaming and utterly terrified, back into his chest

His lips are on your neck a moment later, threatening to start drinking your blood if you didn’t stop yelling, it’s me Y/N, who else could it be?

Apparently ‘a zombie’ wasn’t the right answer

As soon as your mild heart attack passes, you feel the immediate need to get revenge

You try the same trick as him, but he clearly knew you were there before you even walked through the door

You then attempt it the other way around; jump out from behind the door as he walked through it, but that only succeeds in making him laugh

Ultimately, you didn’t manage to scare him once, though it was fun to try

In spite of this, you did manage to completely terrify the kids that came to your door

Sebastian could even sense them walking up to the house (which made you feel better about not being able to scare him) from the fear already radiating from them

When someone rings the doorbell, you allow the door to open seemingly by itself, only appearing yourselves when the door is wide open but the hall is so dark the kids can’t see if anyone is there or not

You walk up silently, Sebastian allowing just a little of his power to exude out, creating hellish shadows that crawl up the walls and a dark smoke that drifts outside

The children scream once more and even any adults accompanying them appear creeped out

You give everyone sweets though, breaking out of character and smiling to chat with people at the door

Looking down the street, everyone has pumpkins and decorations outside their doors, groups of children going from house to house in a plethora of different costumes, all laughing and screaming, comparing their candy and oblivious to the cold

You and Sebastian just stand and watch the scene go by for a while, him contemplating the marvels of the human race and how much its changed, whilst you breathe a happy sigh at the proximity to him, proceeding to rest your head on his shoulder

[fandomoverdrive]

Okay I just need to go on a rant about Whirl because I love him he might just be the most tragic character in the entirety of MTMTE and considering the candidates that’s a pretty hard position to cinch. Some of this is gonna have mentions re: self harm, suicidal tendencies/ideation, overall bad coping mechanisms etc so if that’s not your cuppa please scroll on. 

This gets long so here’s the obligatory read more. 

Let’s write “tragic” in flickering neon letters with the fact that Whirl’s first appearance in MTMTE, dropping the titular “how to say goodbye and mean it,” is a personal soliloquy delivered as he’s in the midst of constructing his own funeral pyre. Whirl is lost, directionless, trapped and unwilling to be such in a postwar environment. But how did we get here? 

Whirl is without a doubt a driven character. In the prewar functionist society, he had no qualms switching careers, risks be damned. Whether he’s always had a knack for disobeying authority or was simply driven by passion or both isn’t elaborated on, but he’s got a hell of a hardheaded streak that’s impossible to ignore. When destroying his business wasn’t enough to deter him from further rebellion, the Senate was happy to turn him into an empuratee and destroy not only the opportunity but the capability of continuing to rebel by pursuing his passion. This is what I’d personally consider the big ‘whump’ moment, less so the use and abuse as a pawn that followed but the point of trauma at which we begin to see Whirl’s psyche begin to twist.

From this point forward we see Whirl in and out of prison, let loose when he can be useful to someone else’s ploy and otherwise incarcerated for a buffet of offenses. No longer able to be constructive and having little if any control of his life, Whirl becomes aggressively destructive. In response to having everything he aspired toward ripped away from him, permanently, he builds a mental defense of bitterness and anger and paves over his black hole of self worth with a veneer of outright assholery. It’s here that he bares his metaphorical fangs and pushes - with gusto - anyone who might even suggest they’re trying to appeal to reason or get close to him as an individual. 

It’s hard to imagine, given even subtly different circumstances, that Whirl would not side with the decepticons for the war. While he’s single-handedly responsible for radicalizing Megatron towards violence, the ‘con intent at the start of revolution - that movement in society should be possible and a caste system based on alt mode is unethical - aligns quite nicely with what he’d already aspired to do with his life. His conscription to the side of the autobots is just another instance in which his autonomy is cast aside. 

Whirl is a tool. Whirl had a passion for watchmaking, but now he can’t, so his new passion is violence. Whirl is a gun and someone else has always told him where to point and all he’s ever been given for his cooperation is the blame of pulling the trigger. Whirl is an asshole, Whirl is unpredictable, Whirl isn’t a mech anybody would ever think twice about saving - the answer would always be no. Whirl wants to die. Whirl only wants to die on his own terms and he’ll be damned if he’s going to keel over under the orders of someone he doesn’t respect, for a cause he doesn’t believe in. 

A few years of this sort of treatment would be enough to drive anyone insane, let alone the millennia of warfare he suffered through. Worse yet is the one time he found a group, a team that was known for the unorthodox and taking on the big messy challenges, the Wreckers kicked him out. Whirl was too much for the mechs that were too much and there’s no way in hell that doesn’t still sting. 

That’s how we get here:

Whirl defends himself through isolation from others. He can’t be hurt by others if he never lets them close enough to be hurt by. In a hypersocial society, he has no close long-term friends, he is one of the few with no roommate aboard the Lost Light. He made himself as unpalatable as possible. He’s crass, he’s volatile, he makes it clear with every word and action that Whirl is first, you don’t mean anything, I’d leave you for dead in an instant..... But that’s not true, is it? 

Whirl is shown being completely, dramatically, self-destructively caring throughout the series. Between risking his life for the scraplet colony disguised as a protoform, participating in an untested spark jumpstart to save a life, coming up with a plan to rejuvenate Tailgate’s spark, and performing a spark transplant surgery on Megatron - without whom the world would never have been even a fraction as cruel to Whirl as it had been - Whirl is far from the most selfish character in the series. It’s in his nature, however, to deny such, to the point where he more than likely believes his own narrative that he’s irredeemable, self-absorbed, invincible, degenerate, and neither capable nor deserving of close interpersonal relationships. 

It’s also how we get here:

Whirl is one of the characters that we more frequently see in a state of disrepair. He fights passionately and recklessly, with no regard whatsoever to whether or not he makes it out of a scrum with all his limbs intact. Injuries like these, and those that he experiences elsewhere in the series, would put other mechs out of commission through pain alone, but as long as Whirl is conscious he doesn’t stop until the fight is over. 

As depressing as it is to think that Whirl is simply at this point accustomed to extraordinary pain, it’s even moreso to think about the more likely concept that he wants to be hurt. Whirl doesn’t have control of a lot that happens to him, but do you know what he does have control of? Who he chooses to shit-talk. More often than not we see Whirl being blatantly disrespectful of his superiors, and some of the more dangerous mechs aboard the LL. While obviously his intent when insulting Ultra Magnus isn’t to start a fight, harping on Drift (and subsequently getting cold clocked) or Cyclonus is a little more self-destructive in nature. 

While Whirl has been in therapy, we see during the encounter with Fort Max that he’d shared very little of what he actually considered traumatic with Rung. With no material to work with, Rung wouldn’t have been able to give Whirl instructions or advice as far as a healthy coping mechanism, and so I’m firmly of the belief that Whirl goes out of his way to get himself hurt as a way to have a vague sense of control. 

On his actions and guilt:

Whirl is immensely guilty. When he’s overcharged, he admits that everything feels like his fault - and unfortunately a lot is. Whirl believes he’s the bad guy, and he’s willing to take the fall for actions that others might find immoral. There’s a lot Whirl has done that he’ll likely never forgive himself for, even if he garnered the ability to start forgiving himself for the small things, but the character he’s created for himself has been part of him for so long that it’s near impossible to tell where to draw the line between caricature and his genuine self. 

At this point in time, Whirl is not capable of improving himself without external assistance. 

He has accepted (however wrongfully) that he is not cared about, trusted, wanted, or respected. 

His assumptions become self-fulfilling prophecy as he - consciously or not - works to perpetuate his image. Whirl is a dick, he’s unfazed by anything anyone says about him, if someone is insulting him they’re probably right, why bother arguing unless it’s with the intent to get in a fight? He doesn’t pay attention to others, he doesn’t pay attention to himself, nothing that anybody could say could possibly make a difference. 

Right? Right?

Wrong. Part of what makes Whirl so heart-wrenchingly tragic is that it is so incredibly clear that nobody has ever told him he mattered. Rodimus throws out what could be interpreted as a snide remark, “even the crazy bastard makes a difference,” and that aside sticks with him. Millions of years of warfare, of being a tool to use, an expendable soldier, a rabid dog to throw at their enemies, and not once did someone turn around and say he was anything good. He’s been thanked for saving lives, for contributions, for individual acts, but his reaction to Rodimus really cements in my mind that nobody has ever said that he, that Whirl, was important. 

Whirl is a broken character. He’s subsumed by his own self-hatred that he perpetuates and justifies with a mask of cruel indifference and aggressively abrasive snark. He’s alone, by what he thinks is his own choice but is really a horribly misguided attempt to keep himself safe. He’s got no potential for growth unless someone wants to force their way through his defenses in order to help him find the line between who he is and who he pretends to be in order to keep from being hurt. Whirl is terrified of abandonment, and guarantees that nobody will ever be able to leave him by never letting them come close to begin with. He’s not a good person, he’s violent and callous and has little regard for the consequences of his actions, but he is that way because of the life he was forced to lead. He falls into consistent patterns because he craves control, even if those patterns are self destructive. It’s proof of the little growth he was allowed during the course of MTMTE/LL that after their quest was over, he didn’t attempt suicide again but instead got into the revolving door of incarceration for petty offenses. 

All in all, Whirl is one of the saddest characters in any media I’ve consumed and please someone get this despicable bastard helicopter a new therapist and a stiff drink 

[4iammighty]

AHIT Coffee Shop AU FIC

for @doodledrawsthings

Coffee Shop AU has taken over and I wrote this as soon as I got home. Also this is just my interpretation, so please keep that in mind

TRIGGER WARNING: DOMESTIC/VERBAL ABUSE 

“VANESSA THAT'S ENOUGH!”

They’ve been shouting for at least an hour now...

“This is between you and me, don’t bring Harriet into this.”

It’s been like this for a few days...

“No, NO! It’s either me or her, no in-betweens.”

Things were supposed to get better, he promised.

Harriet was sitting outside their bedroom door, her face tucked into her knees. She promised her father she waits downstairs but... she couldn’t sit by and let this happen. But when the shout started she couldn’t bring herself to open the door and so she listened to their lover’s quarrel.

“You're not gonna make me chose between the love of my life and OUR daughter!”

“You mean our MISTAKE!?!”

M-mistake...? No, she didn’t mean it. Harriet wasn’t a mistake... she couldn’t be. There was a very long silence so much so that Harriet worried that something really bad might have happened. She went for the door handle when she heard the softest voice.

“Get... out..”

“Excuse me!?”

“I said get out! If you can’t love our DAUGHTER, Our beautiful child who was never and will never be a mistake, then I’m afraid I can't bear to love you.”

“Y-you... YOU SNAKE!”

“This conversation is over, GET OUT!”

“FINE THEN, BUT YOU’LL BE SORRY YOU CHOSE HER OVER ME!”

Harriet saw the door handle shake. She quickly hid behind the plant they had in the hall. She heard the door slam and her mother’s vengeful footsteps going down the stairs and out the door.

Things.... were supposed to get better...

And the only reason they didn’t was because of her...

Harriet fell to the floor once again, on the verge of tears, until she heard her father. Harriet pulled herself up and back to their bedroom. She took a peek inside, her father was sitting on the bed, hunched over, facing the window, clearly crying but very much trying to hide it.

“D-dad?” Her dad sat up, surprised to hear his daughter.

“Hey kiddo,” Her dad turned to face her, his eyes were red and puffy, “I thought I told you to wait downstairs?”

Harriet climbed up the bed and sat beside her father, “Mom left...”

He sighed, “Yeah... I know.”

“And... and,” Harriet could barely let the words out, “it’s... my fault.”

“What?”

“Was I a mistake daddy? WAS I NOT SUPPOSED TO EXIST!?” Harriet looked up to her father, finally letting herself cry.

He places his hands on her shoulders, “Listen to me. You are NOT a mistake, you were NOT an accident. Your mother and I wanted you and we love you with every fiber of our being. This is NOT your fault, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Harriet had nothing to say, she leaned against her father's chest as he pulled her in for an embrace. Despite all that happened tonight, it was the warmest hug he’d ever given. He works so hard to try and resolve everything, but in the end, he couldn’t save Vanessa from her lingering hatred. He wasn’t going to lose his daughter too.

Unbeknownst to either of them, across the street, a dark shadow was lurking. She had seen everything through the window. Here she was cold, furious, and alone. And inside? They were warm, happy, together. Just as Vanessa feared, now that she was out of the picture all his love went to the brat they raised.

“Damn you...”

Clouds rolled in from afar as her fist clenched and she spits out her venomous spell.

“This is not happily ever after, you will rue this day. YOU ARE THE MONSTROUS SNAKE WHO BROKE MY HEART AND YOU WONT GET AWAY WITH IT!”

The lampposts on the street shattered as dark rain poured. Vanessa stood there, watching, knowing Luka would feel the true extent of her wrath.

Back inside Luka and Harriet, we’re still embraced until,

*Cough*

“You ok, dad?” Harriet pulled herself away in an attempt to get a good look at his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I probably,” Another sickly cough escaped his throat, “probably just overexerted my voice.” He smiled down at his daughter, but she did not smile back.

“D-dad! Your eyes?!”

“Oh yeah, I guess they’re still pretty red?”

“No.. they’re YELLOW? AND GLOWING!?”

“WHAT!?” Without hesitation, Luka ran over the vanity to check his reflection.

His eyes were indeed yellow. He put his hand to his head and notice another terrifying detail, the tips of his fingers were dark and it was inching down his palm to his arms.

“What’s happening?!” Harriet called out, noticing her father's panic reflecting off the mirror.

“I don- UGGGGGHHHHH!” Luka hit the floor, knocking down the vanity and shattering the mirror in the process.

“DAD,” Harriet jumped off the bed and slide to her father’s side, “ARE YOU OK? DAD?!?”

Harriet saw her father’s hair darken and when she lifted his chin his face was so dark it looked like she was starring at the night sky. He had no mouth anymore, just two fangs. Harriet followed the darkness as it swallowed her father. She tried to stop it. Maybe wipe it away? Pull it off like a bandage? But nothing was working.

She backed away when she noticed that not only was the darkness swallowing her father, it was getting bigger too. The giant dresser was knocked aside and the Celine got light shattered above them. In the darkness, Harriet could now only see two glowing yellow eyes starring down at her from the corner of the bedroom.

Harriet felt a chill crawl slowly down her spine, leaving her shaking. From the corner of her eye, she saw... something out the window. She dashed to the window, it was just as dark outside as it was in the room.

Then lightning struck.

It was barely a second, but she saw her standing out in the pouring rain, watching. Her eyes like ice-cold daggers.

Lighting struck again, and she was gone.

Harriet looked back at the golden eyes. They were staring down, but not at her. She pulled out her phone and shined a light at the corner of the room. It was ginormous, nearly taking up half the room. A shadow towered over her, and they bet why Harriet could think of describing this thing, a giant shadow with glowing eyes and sharp fangs. She could now see what it was staring at, itself.

Had Harriet entered the room now, she would have screamed, she would have called the cops, she would have run away, but she didn’t. Because she knew the truth.

“Dad?” She called out.

Its eyes darted up at her, then they narrowed. Harriet approached it, holding out her hand. It hesitated at first but it accepts her hand. It was very cold to the touch, feeling like morning fog had manifested itself into a solid shape. She looked up once again, its eyes unchanging. She dropped her phone and hugged it. In response she heard a faint sniffle, its eyes disappeared under its shadow hands.

“What did she do to me...?”

[catracorner962]

Karaoke

I promise I can write something that’s pure fluff. See?! 

In the newly renovated Fright Zone, the gang is having a party. Catra and Glimmer duet Shaggy. Catra has a surprise. --- AJ Michalka has a phenomenal voice and covers "Warriors" on the SheRa soundtrack. She does this in character as Catra and even says "Hey Adora," at the end, what else did you expect me to do with that except come up with an excuse for Catra to sing this for Adora? I'm sure this has been done before this is just my take. Also whenever I hear "Wasn't Me," or "Angel," by Shaggy I imagine Glimmer and Catra getting drunk and singing it.

Adora brought a hand to her nose, trying to cover her snorting laughter. Besider her Bow swayed in time to the music. Light flashed from above blue and pink.

“HA!!”

Adora couldn’t stop herself, exploding into a fit of giggles, nearly toppling the cocktail in her hand. Nearly sending pink liquid all over her white pants and halter top.

On the stage, her girlfriend and her best friend sang like they hadn’t a care in the world.

“How could I forget that I had given her an extra key? All this time she was standing there she never took her eyes off me!”

Glimmer sang into the mic, her purple leather skirt sparkling in the stage lights.

“Wooow! Yeah Glimmer!” Bow cheered, he took another sip of his beer. More delicately then anyone else around them and probably the only one with a modicum of sobriety left. All around them people sang along, swaying and trying to dance.

“To be a true player you have to know how to play!” Catra sang, winking at Adora from her place on the stage. Her hair had grown out again in the year after the war. Already falling just beyond her shoulders. Adora took a sip of her drink to conceal the blush rising in her cheeks.

“ To be a true player you have to know how to play, if she stay a night, convince her stay a day, Never admit to a word when she say. And if she claim, ah, you tell her, "Baby, no way"

“But she caught me on the counter!” Glimmer’s voice cracked but she kept going,  

“It wasn’t me!” Catra leaned forward into the mic.

“Saw me banging on the sofa!” Glimmer laughed, leaning in to meet Catra halfway.

“It wasn’t me!”

“I even had her in the shower!”

“They’re not bad,” Bow admitted whispering in Adora’s ear. The blonde nodded, pulling a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Catra had convinced her to wear it down for once.

“Saw the marks on my shoulder!” Glimmer and Catra sang in unison. Catra unsheathed her claws in flash, winking again, this time a little more suggestively at her girlfriend in the audience. Cheers erupted throughout the bar, an eager welcome Adora thought, her chest warming. To have Catra greeted with rounds of applause rather than boos and hisses and threats.

“ Honey came in and she caught me red-handed, creeping with the girl next door, picture this, we were both butt-naked, banging on the bathroom floor. I had tried to keep her from what she was about to see, why should she believe me when I told her it wasn't me.”

Glimmer and Catra belted through the mic. It was all Adora could do not to transform into Shera. Just the sight of seeing Catra in the limelight, black pants held up by suspenders, her white shirt open just a tad too loose. She took a swig of her whisky mid chorus and continued to sing.

“I have to hand it to Scorpia and Perfuma; they've really done wonders with the Fright Zone,” Bow mused. He clapped along to the music and finished his drink.

“They sure have!” Adora answered, finally turning her attention from the stage. “Glad they were able to renovate the place into a karaoke bar. Somewhere in the distance Mermista’s groan could be heard, Adora turned. Seahawk and the water princess sat at one of the tables, the pirate’s eyes wide with amazement at the flaming martini set down before him.

“Should I….?” Adora made a b-line towards their table. Mermista flunk out her hand, a spray of water dousing the flames.

“Just drink it,” she groaned to Seahawk’s evident dismay. Adora bit back a grin. It had been awhile since they’d been able to just kickback and relax, indulge even. Post-war meant bringing magic to all the galaxy. Which meant traveling around, squashing the last of Prime’s brotherhood. Plus meetings after meetings and much needed reconciliation between Catra, Entrapta, Wrong Hordak, Scorpia and everyone else. It had been trying and difficult and the work was far from finished. But tonight, tonight was a chance to simply let loose.

“Honey came in and she caught me red-handed, creeping with the girl next door, picture this, we were both butt-naked, banging on the bathroom floor. How could I forget that I had, given her an extra key, All this time she was standing there, she never took her eyes off me!!” Glimmer and Catra finished in unison. Again cheers lifted from the crowd. Glimmer bowed, losing her balance until Catra caught her by the arm to steady her and they made their way down the stage.

“Wow, that was...wow,” Scorpia’s face nearly matched the color of her claws. “That was..I don’t think I understood half those words! But uhh next, next...we have...Perfuma! Who I’ve been told is going to do an...an interpretive dance called Ode to Rain, so that will be….uhh….fantastic.” Scorpia laughed nervously but clapped all the same while Perfuma seemingly floated up the stage.

“Hey!” Glimmer greeted Adora with a hug and Bow with a kiss.

“You were great!” Bow put his arm around her waist. “Who knew you and Catra could duet so well together!”

Glimmer laughed, full and hearty, accepting a glass of sparkling wine from Bow.

“Where is Catra?” Adora looked around the crowd. “I thought she came down with you?”

“She said she had to get ready for something,” Glimmer shrugged.

Adora nodded, trying to quell the bubble of anxiety that threatened to rise.

Catra would be fine, she can be left alone. She’s not a child. She’s perfectly capable.

Bodies pressed against Adora in the maylay of the crowd. Talking and drinking and laughing. The lights flashed all around them. Dizzying.

There’s so many people here….what if...there could be….threats. Some clone we forgot?

Someone wanting to take Catra down?

Adora forced herself to breathe, gripping her glass tight.

“Adora, you alright?” Glimmer touched her arm.

“Yes!” She smiled automatically, “I’m great!” She took a breath, eyes flicking upward as Perfuma left the stage.

Still no sign of Catra.

“It’s just...I worry sometimes...I worry about leaving Catra alone sometimes...what if there’s…”

Glimmer opened her mouth to respond when a cool light drifted across the crowd from above to the stage.

“Adora….you might want to…” Glimmer pointed. Adora followed her gaze, jaw nearly dropping to the floor. Silhouetted against the limelight a lone figure stood before the mic. The outline of someone wearing a tight fitting black dress that fanned out toward the bottom. Catra’s tail swished nervously behind her, ears flicking. She stepped forward, the high slit of her dress revealing one leg as she moved. The light illuminating her freckled face, mismatched eyes gleaming.

“Oh my….” Adora took the last sip of her drink. Beside her bow gasped. Even Glimmer’s eyes stared wide with shock. The hub-bub of the crowd died instantly, everyone holding their breath. Even Emily and Entrapta, who were observing in the corner, fell silent.

Catra’s shaky inhale of breath sounded through the mic throughout the bar. Adora waited, stunned. Taking in her girlfriend, the deep V of her dress, the way she shifted her weight. Then finally, after a mini-eternity, Catra’s eyes slipped close and her voice drifted out:

“We're warriors, unstoppable. We feel the evil coming, and shadows all around.”

She sang low and haunting, each word a melodic whisper. Goosebumps rose on Adora’s skin.

“Danger surrounds us, but won't bring us down. We're on the edge of greatness, turning darkness to liiightt,”

Her voice undulated and moved like the waves, the crowd beginning to hum. She opened her eyes, gold and blue sparkling in the light. Catra’s gaze looked through the throngs of people finally meeting Adora’s. The blonde felt her knees shake, she passed her glass to Glimmer without looking away. Catra smiled,

“We're right beside you, ready to fight. We must be strong! And we must be brave! We gotta find every bit of strength that we have and never let it go!”

“Wooo!! Yaaaah!!!” People exclaimed, clapping. Catra’s smile widened, she took the mic from it’s stand, now walking across the stage, tall and proud and brimming with pride. Adora’s cheeks ached, beaming with a smile. She too clapped along.

“We're bound to this struggle, with mighty sword and flame, we'll never fail you, when you call our name.”

She turned, again meeting Adora’s radiant face across the audience. Their eyes met, though Adora could hardly see her through a fog of tears pressing against her eyes. Her heart expanded so fast and full she thought it would explode. Catra too grinned with confidence, revealing pointed fangs. Her eyes dazzled, shoulders lifting as she sang, not once looking away from Adora.

“Together we'll be heroes, joining forces as one. Strong as the steel we carry, we rise like a su...uu...uu...un!”

She hit the note perfectly, the whole bar erupting into ecstatic joy.

“Yeah Horde Scum!” Glimmer fist pumped at the air, jumping up and down. Off to the side of the stage, Perfuma pat Scorpia on the shoulder through her tears.

“That’s my wildcat!”

Catra sang through another round of the chorus, parading back and forth. People reached out from below towards her, laughing and whooping.

“Cause we're warriors, we are unstoppable,nothing's gonna get in our way. We're gonna win in the end….”

Catra sang through the last chorus, coming to stand gracefully before the microphone stand once more.

“We're gonna reach inside, still together and fight and never let it go. We must be strong…” She finished with a flourishing whisper. Looking at Adora from her poised position stage, she blinked, slowly, her own voice cracking with emotion.

“Hey Adora.”

Tears streamed down Adora’s face, her heart hammering in her chest. She could feel herself glowing, transforming, this time brought on by pride and admiration for Catra. Catra who only sang in secret, in dark places, until now. Catra who had always deserved every bit of attention and affection and praise but never got it, until now. Catra who was so guarded who never let herself betray emotion or vulnerability, until now.

There was a white flash, people gasped, and Adora didn’t need to look down at herself to know she’d become Shera.

Catra climbed down from the stage with Scorpia’s assistance and made her way Adora, people parting for her instantly, cheering and clapping.

“Catra! Y...you! You’re…”

Catra’s lips cut off the rest of her sentence, pressing in a full deep kiss, nearly melting against Adora, well, Shera’s chest. Adora put her arms around her girlfriend holding her close, one hand to the small of her back. She had to control herself in public after all, though it was hard to do with her girlfriend looking so...so ravishingly gorgeous, so happy and exuberant. A new round of tears spilled down her cheeks.

“I knew you could sing,” she breathed, breaking the kiss only to press her forehead against Catra’s which required her to lean down a little more in this form. “But not...l...like that.”

Catra laughed, holding Adora’s hand to her face and leaning into her touch. The ruckus of people seemingly disappearing. The only thing that mattered, the center of her universe was already right in front of her.

“I love you,” Catra whispered.

“I love you too, so much.” Adora pulled her in for another kiss, the cheers escalating around them.

Catra rolled her eyes only to be shoved by Glimmer’s arms around her waist.

“Catra, where was that voice when we were singing?! I need to up my game!”

“That...that was beautiful Catra!” Bow wiped his eyes with his yellow jacket. “Absolutely beautiful.”

“Alright, alright Sparkles,” she pulled away from Adora’s hold. “Next time we do Angel by Shaggy I’ll be sure to really sing it with pathos, yeah? And take it easy Arrow Boy your gonna get snot all over your jacket.”

Glimmer only rolled her eyes but gave Catra a kiss on the cheek.

“Well next rounds on me Wildcat!” Scorpia announced happily clapping Catra across the back gently. This time Catra didn’t stiffen or bristle at the touch but smirked. A testament to how far she’d come in such a short time. Adora could hardly contain her emotion.

“You may regret that Scorp.”

The night continued on, Catra changed back into more comfortable pants and dress-shirt. Rogeilo sang...well..grunt roared some prolonged ballad that no one but Lonnie understood. Mermista and Seahawk performed no less than seven shanties. A curtin was set on fire by the third one. Frosta entertained with a series of impressive ice sculptures and Double Trouble, dramatic as they were, impressions that left everyone’s sides sore from laughter. Scorpia closed out the evening, singing a rendition of “Beautiful,”  by Christina Aguilera that had everyone, even Catra in tears by the end. Though Catra swore her eyes were she only  irritated by the bright lights.

Adora put her arms around Catra from behind, still having advantage of being in her Shera form. Muscular arms holding her girlfriend close in the dark of the crowd while Scorpia, sang her last few notes. Catra swayed in tandem, tail going around her girlfriend’s leg, she leaned her back against Shera’s broad torso and hummed. Adora planted a kiss on the crown of Catra’s head. The mark of the Heart of Etheria glowing against her chest. In the mass of folks and the company of friends, lights glowing and Catra content in her arms, sniffled happily through tears of joy.

They had indeed won in the end.

[earth-ambassador-jim]

Lost Souls: Story 10

The Ones We Hail (part 3)

Lost Souls Summary: Merlin awakens early from his sleep. He decides  that he doesn’t want to leaving anything to chance and kidnaps the young  James Lake Jr. to began training his Trollhunter as early as possible.

Barbara  is determined to hunt down the man who kidnapped her son. In her  efforts to get her son back she finds a strange old radio that speaks to  her in a woman’s voice. The radio leads her to an underground society  of shapeshifters.

Mother and son meet again years later as strangers on opposing sides.

AO3 - Fanfiction

~~~~

“Jim! I’m here!” Kanjigar called out as he entered the cave

There was no response. No patter of small feet.

Kanjigar frowned; usually Jim was all over him by now. Where was the child?

“Jim?” He called again.

Concern began to take root in his chest and the old troll lifted his head and tested the air for the child’s scent. He could smell both Jim’s scent and Merlin’s. They were fairly fresh but…

Kanjigar sniffed again.

There was something unfamiliar in the air. A slight shiver ran through him setting his tusks on edge.

He followed the strange scent through the roughhewn hallways and deeper into Merlin’s abode. What was it? No one could get in here without Merlin’s permission.

The scent led him to Jim’s room. Kanjigar’s whole body was tense. If something had happened to the boy…

His hand wrapped around the amulet where it hung from a chain around his neck. Without a word the armor materialized around him. He didn’t summon Daylight just yet but he kept one hand free as he eased open the door.

The room was empty but the strange scent was fresh.

All Kanjigar’s muscles were tense as he entered. He moved slowly; leaving the door open as a precaution.

His ears were pricked and alert as his eyes swept over the room.

Jim’s toys sat undisturbed on the small shelf he had liberated from the junkyard. The picture book he had borrowed from Blinky was still there.

There was no sign of the boy himself.

His eyes tracked across the room before a small movement drew them.

Curled in the large pile of blankets that served as Jim’s bed was a small blue troll. They were staring at him with wide surprised eyes, both hands slightly raised as if that had been just holding their horns.

His eyes snagged on the hands. The five fingered hands.

Kanjigar’s nostril flared as he took in their scent. It smelled both like troll and human, with a heavy scent of some unidentified potion hanging over it all. More importantly it smelled like Jim.

A changeling.

Kanjigar’s ears went back -a jolt of betrayal stabbing through him like a dagger- He’d been fooled. His ears pressed tighter against his head as his fist clenched. Had he ever met the real Jim or had the impure been pulling his strings the whole time? This was what happened when a Trollhunter let themself get attached.

The low growl that rumbled from his chest caused the imposter to flinch. Its eyes widened further and its ears pressed down.

“Kanji…” It started.

Kanjigar didn’t give it a chance to spin its net of deceit. In a second he lunged forward pinning it to a wall.

The impure shrieked and wailed. It clawed at his hand for a moment before going limp. It shook as big tears dripped down its face. Its eyes looked so much like Jim’s that he felt a pang in his core at the sight. He shook his head and steeled himself; he wouldn’t fall for crocodile tears. Not again.

“How long ago were you planted,” He demanded.

If the changelings had found a way to fool even Merlin, they would be in trouble. If he was being honest part of him hoped that somehow, against all prior knowledge of when the exchange could happen, the changeling was a recent plant and he had actually known the real Jim.

The impure didn’t respond. It just kept whimpering and pressed its eyes closed. It was a very convincing actor. He would give it that.

He opened his mouth and…

“What are you doing?”

Kanjigar startled at Merlin’s harsh tone. He hazarded a glance back at the doorway, careful not to let the changeling completely out of his sight. He looked furious. His brows were drawn together and his eyes flashing.

“I found this changeling in Jim’s room,” Kanjigar reported, switching his gaze back to the creature he had pinned against the wall. “I was trying to find out just how early the exchange happened.”

Behind him Merlin huffed out a sigh.

“Put him down,” The wizard said. “That’s Jim, not an imposter.”

“What? But Master Merlin…”

“Don’t Master Merlin me. Put him down now.”

Puzzled but deferring to the wizards judgement he let the changeling drop. It hit the ground and stayed where it was curling in on itself and shaking. It looked positively frightened. He felt the unwelcome pang of sympathy again.

He shook his head trying to focus and figure out what was going on.

Why would Merlin…

There was no way.

“Did you let that changeling in here?” Kanjigar asked horrified. “You knew the whole time.”

That would explain why the wizard had been so careless with him and expected him to take care of himself. Despite appearances, changelings were not planted until they reached mental adulthood and were capable of fending for themselves.

“What? No,” Merlin looked offended.

“Then…”

“Jim is not a changeling. I would not take one of Morgana’s servants into my house lest I wake up with a knife in my back. I’m not a fool!”

“Then what…”

“Jim was a human but now, thanks to the potion I have been working on since I woke, he is a half-troll.”

Kanjigar blinked unable to quite process that sentence.

“What?” He said dumbly. He had never heard of such a thing.

Merlin sighed.

“Walk with me.”

The wizard turned away. Kanjigar hesitated glancing back toward Jim who was now hiding under the blankets. He half turned toward him before glancing in the direction that Merlin had went in.

There was no saying how long Merlin would stick around but now that he knew that the small troll was actually Jim (Even if he was still struggling to believe it.)… The flash of the boy’s scared eyes, his desperate sobs and Kanjigar, the very troll who he had trusted pinned him to the wall…

Kanjigar’s ears pressed down.

He took a step in the direction of the blankets before stopping.

He should give the boy some time to recover before he approached him. Not only that but he needed answers.

Once they were back in the main room, Kanjigar turned to Merlin. His anger at himself for hurting Jim was mixing with his anger and confusion toward Merlin for… whatever he had done. The turbulent emotions set his tusks on edge. He managed to fight down the snarl that was threatening to crawl up his throat, but his voice still came out more sharp than respectful.

“Why would you do that to Jim? What point is there in turning him into a… a half-troll?”

Humans and trolls were not meant time be mixed; changelings were proof of that. Even if they did not die by the sword or succumb to the webs of their own treachery, the magic that was forced into their stone aged them prematurely. They often suffered joint problems and fatigue as a result of hybridized systems –A weakness Kanjigar had learned to exploit when he came into conflict with them. They were doomed the weaknesses of humanity and trollkind while being rejected by both.

What purpose could Merlin possibly have in inflicting such a fate on such an innocent young child?

He drew himself to his full height ready to stare the wizard down until he got answers. Merlin eyed him through his thick brows.

“Because he will be the next Trollhunter,” He said.

Kanjigar stilled.

“What?”

In his shock it felt as if he had taken a step back out of his own body.

If Jim was going to be the next Trollhunter that meant…

Merlin sighed, looking slightly regretful.

“Yes, according to what I saw studying the future, you’re destined to die in the next decade or two and the Amulet will choose James when you’re gone.”

The first thing Kanjigar’s mind latched onto was just how soon that was. A couple decades was hardly the blink of an eye… The next was…

“But he’s just a child…”

Grown adults… great champions even… had crumbled under the weight of the amulet. Tellad-Urr the Terrible had been the most shocking and horrifying example but unfortunately not the only one.

“Then make sure you don’t die soon,” Merlin said. He sighed again. “Look I brought him here to make sure that when the time came he would be ready to take up the mantle.” He gave Kanjigar a look that the troll couldn’t quite interpret. “Perhaps you could start teaching him some combat and other Trollhunter skills. You were saying that younglings need to run around.”

Something welled up in Kanjigar’s chest as he finally managed to push through his shock.

“Yes,” He said, lips curling up slightly from his fangs. He had to take a breath to force down his anger. It didn’t work. “But they also need to have friends and enjoy the freedom that comes with their youth. I’ve already told you that Jim should not be trapped in this cage… in this cave all the time… but…” Kanjigar took another breath, the first hints of a snarl rode on the exhale. “But knowing what the future has in store for him. He needs to have time to just be a child even more. The mantle of Trollhunter is a heavy one. Caring for the wellbeing of many is a great burden. You of all people know that.”

He tried to catch the wizard’s gaze but he refused to meet Kanjigar’s eyes. The flame flickering in his chest kindled brighter. He hadn’t felt this way since he found Draal- back when his son was still just a whelp- cornered up against the edge of the tree line by some idiot younglings who thought terrorizing others was fun and who had not yet realized just how small of a slip it took for one to turn to stone.

“Let me take the boy to Trollmarket,” Kanjigar suggested, still trying to be reasonable and keep some semblance of control over his temper. “He’ll be safe there. He’ll be able to play with other younglings and grow up at a normal pace, then when the time comes for… for him to take up my mantle he’ll have had a chance to properly enjoy life first.”

Kanjigar waited for Merlin to reply. The silence stretched out between them. Kanjigar thought the wizard looked older than usual: tired. His shoulders were slumped and lines of tension traced his forehead.

“No.”

“What?”

“I said no.” Merlin looked up and met the Trollhunter’s eyes finally. Once again his face was unreadable. “James will not be accepted in Trollmarket. If you are looking for a place where he can be safe and happy and carefree… Well I’m sorry to break your delusion but that will not be it.”

Kanjigar growled and open his mouth to argue. The amulet hummed ominously on his chest in response to his emotions. He knew without trying that it was impossible to remove right now.

“Do you really think the other trolls will notice nothing odd about him?”

Kanjigar paused at his words and Merlin seized on that hesitation and continued.

“You yourself thought he was a changeling. Do you think you are the only one who will come to such a conclusion? The only one to treat him harshly because of it?”

Kanjigar flinched. Jim’s scared face as the Trollhunter had pinned him to the wall reared up in his memory again.

“Well?”

Kanjigar turned away, shame curling around his throat.

“I need to go check on Jim. I will think about what you said.”

He left the wizard, before he did something else he would regret, and hurried back to the small room. Jim was nowhere to be seen but Kanjigar could smell his strange new scent.

“Young Jim,” He said hesitantly.

There was no response.

The Trollhunter moved slowly into the room.

“Jim? Are you there? I am sorry about how I acted. That was wrong of me.”

Still no response.

Kanjigar’s ears pricked. There. He could hear harsh breathing.

It seemed he was still in the blanket pile. Kanjigar carefully lifted the thick downy blanket that was on top of the pile.

Jim flinched when the light hit him and curled into himself. Kanjigar released the blanket, not feeling quite right disturbing the boy, and it fell slightly to the side.

Kanjigar sighed. He crouched down and then stayed there for a moment, unsure of how to go forward.

“Young Jim…”

Kanjigar trailed off and ran a hand over one of his horns. This was all his fault. He had crushed the poor boy into a wall. Threatened him! A simple apology was nowhere near sufficient.

“I’m sorry Jim,” he said anyway to the boy’s back. “I thought you were something else, an enemy, but how I treated you was wrong. I won’t do it again. Can you forgive me? Or at least let me check to make sure you are unharmed.”

The boy didn’t respond but Kanjigar saw that one of his ears was turned back toward him. And wasn’t that a change? Kanjigar fought down the sense of unease that arose at the boy’s strange scent and odd features. This wasn’t the time to deal with that. It wasn’t Jim’s fault.

The boy remained quiet. Eventually Kanjigar did the only thing he could think of and sat down on the ground next to him. Both ears twitched in his direction at that but other than shivering Jim still didn’t move.

Kanjigar waited. If there was anything being Trollhunter had taught him it was patience.

An hour passed. Jim began to move more but seemed determined not to leave his spot. Not while Kanjigar was in the room.

The Trollhunter felt the shame curl tighter around his core. If only he had taken a moment longer to assess the situation. If he had done that Merlin might have arrived before he had hurt Jim and this could have been avoided. In the past he might have, but after the incident with Nomura, Kanjigar had become wary. He couldn’t forget how casually she had dropped her act when it no longer suited her or the burn of her blade on his side. He definitely couldn’t forget how heartbroken Draal had been.

He sighed and ran his hand down his face.

It was then he had realized that his enemies would take advantage of anyone close to him. It was then that he had started working alone. He found himself wondering sometimes if it was the right decision. Draal was angrier these days. He had heard that he was getting into more fights. Blinky had suggested it was because he wanted his father’s attention. Kanjigar wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, but he had made a decision and needed to stick to it.

Kanjigar wrenched his mind away from that painful line of thought and focused his gaze on the wall across the room. It was fairly plain rock at first glance, lightly textured with regular divots that suggested someone had worked on it with a chisel. If one looked close they would notice that thread thin veins of emerald ran through the darker stone. It made sense that Merlin had chosen this place, Kanjigar mused. The wizard’s magic was green and magic tended to be better enhanced by crystals of similar coloring…

His thoughts were broken off by a quiet scraping to his left, he carefully didn’t look.

He wasn’t quite sure what else to say either. He had already apologized; what else did one say to a child that they treated as a spy?

“Do I really look that different?” Jim asked.

Kanjigar looked at him cautiously out of the corner of his eye, making sure he wasn’t going to bolt, before looking at him fully. It was an odd question. He would have expected Jim to ask about the things Kanjigar had said when he was threatening him instead.

He took a moment to study the boy’s changes.

Like his scent, his appearance was now a mix of human and trollish traits. His skin was stoney. Whether that went all the way or was merely on the surface Kanjigar didn’t know. He didn’t particularly care to find out either. His nose was still relatively human, a little flatter and broader than it had been, but human. His ears were longer and freemoving now but his hands had retained five fingers each. Of course there were a few troll species that had five fingers but it was a rarer trait. (One often associated with changelings…) His hair was courser, but still black. Small tusks just barely poked out between his lips.

“Your eyes are the same,” Kanjigar said after a moment.

The boy jolted and then looked up at him. Indeed the rest of him may have changed but those bright blue eyes were the same.

“The rest of you looks different but they haven’t changed at all.”

“Oh,” Jim said and looked away again.

He looked down at his feet a quiet frown playing across his lips.

“Do you think my Mom would recognize me?” He asked quietly.

Kanjigar felt something his chest tighten.

“I don’t know,” He said softly. As much as he wanted to comfort the child he couldn’t lie to him on this. It would only bring pain in the future.

He paused a thought flickering in his mind.

“Does she not know… Was she not informed of your change?”

He hoped Merlin had discussed this with the boy’s parents beforehand, but… well…. The Wizard had shown that he was careless about such things. A lot of heartache could have been avoided if he had told Kanjigar beforehand…

Perhaps he had thought Kanjigar would try to stop him. (Perhaps he was right.)

Jim drew his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He pressed his face between them and murmured something that Kanjigar couldn’t quite make out.

“What was that?”

“She wasn’t there,” Jim repeated softly. His voice caught and Kanjigar realized that he was starting to cry. “I went to our house before… when Merlin told me about the potion. I…” He hiccupped and lifted his head a little to wipe at his eyes. “I wanted to see her before… But there were other people there. They said she’d moved… left.”

Jim’s shoulders shook and a slightly louder sob came out of him.

“What if I see her again and she doesn’t know who I am?” He almost wailed. “What if…” He grabbed at his long ears, tugging them down in distress. “What if she’s scared of me or hates me?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “What if she thinks I’m a monster?”

Kanjigar reached out and picked him up. He pulled him to his chest and wrapped his arms around him. For a moment Jim struggled but then the small half-troll pressed his head into Kanjigar’s chest and wailed.

It was a lonely, painful sound. Not quite troll or human.

It made Kanjigar’s chest ache.

He rested his chin on Jim’s head and rocked him gently as the boy cried.

Eventually he quieted and then after a little longer he breathing evened out.

He’d fallen asleep, Kanjigar realized.

He shifted him to a slightly better position and then leaned back against the wall tiredly.

What was he going to do?

He had had his hesitations about Jim being in Merlin’s care but after this…

He meant what he said about wanting to take Jim to Trollmarket. Unfortunately Merlin was right: the other trolls would be hesitant to accept Jim. There was some advantage to the fact that he was young. If he could convince the adult trolls that he was not a changeling they would not harm him… Most likely…

Kanjigar’s status as Trollhunter would certainly provide some protection but even if Jim was safe from the adult trolls…

Kanjigar grimaced. The adult trolls wouldn’t be the only problem. In his experience children tended to pick up on their parents’ prejudices. It was possible Jim wouldn’t be accepted among them either.

That was even without getting into ages.

The troll children who were mentally Jim’s age were already over a century. There were differences in how they approached and understood things as a result.

Not to mention he didn’t know if Jim was going to keep aging at a human rate or slow down…

Kanjigar carefully shifted Jim so he had a free hand to rub his forehead.

“What am I to do with you?” He murmured to the sleeping child.

He didn’t know. He really didn’t know.

Jim shifted in his sleep and made a soft whimper in his throat. His brows drew together and he pressed his face harder against Kanjigar before stilling again.

It wasn’t fair, Kanjigar thought. He had wished –pleaded with the amulet even- that his own son Draal wouldn’t have be forced to bear the burden. He had gotten that wish: but at what cost? This boy didn’t deserve to suffer it either.

He ran a hand through Jim’s hair and promised himself two things.

First: He would live as long as possible. He would make sure that Jim was well into adulthood before he took to mantle of Trollhunter. Kanjigar would fight for his own life as if he was fighting for Jim’s.

And second: He would do everything in his power to make sure that Jim was prepared for when his time came.

 ~~~~

Author Notes:

Yeah Jim is going to have some trauma from that...

Chronologically this chapter takes place soon after Chapter 6. If Barbara had waited even a month to move she might have encountered Jim. (Whether that would have ended well or not is hard to say.) We'll get to see what happened with Jim's visit to his old home in another chapter.

Jim is a little different looking from his cannon half-troll form in this AU due to Merlin having much longer to work on the potion. His troll and human traits are a little better balanced. Main differences include: 5 fingers on both hands, his ears are more like Blinky's in shape than elf-like as they are in cannon, and a slightly increased immunity to the sun (I'm still deciding to what extent). There are some other things that will come up later as well.

Something worth noting is that Jim is in many ways what troll imagine changelings look and smell like. Actual changelings switch from fully troll to fully human, but changelings are not frequently interacted with so images get distorted over time. Kanjigar knows this but it escaped his mind in the moment.

I don't recall seeing Kanjigar interact with any changelings in cannon but I have no reason to believe that he would be an exception to the general attitude toward them.

This is the end of this three part arc. I hope you enjoyed it! The next chapter will take place in the present.

[misfireanon]

57

The next morning, Nihlus gets up early to prepare breakfast. The weather outside is still terrible. The storm had lessened during the night, but by the time he got back in bed, it had picked up again, accompanied by a fresh chorus of ferocious howls. Now, hard clumps of snow are smacking against the window like the wind’s percussive accompaniment. He swirls the leftover tequila and drains it in one gulp, setting the flask on the table with a loud thunk. There.

Right on schedule, Saren peeks out from the bedroom, his unblinking eyes pointing from the empty flask, to the plate of gnawed ribs in front of Nihlus, to the six small dishes (and one soup, all proper and shit) laid out for him. Nihlus doesn’t wait for him to begin an interrogation. He spears a cube of the hitherto untouched blue pudding on his talon and slurps it down, raising a browplate at Saren’s frown. “Why don’t you come sit and eat so my hard work doesn’t go to waste? I had to take all this from the deliverybot and put it in bowls all by myself, you know.”

Saren drops into his seat with a grunt. “You turned up the heating.”

“Yeah, because I was freezing my ass off last night. Don’t make that face, I know you can afford it. Heck, you can probably afford to burn this building down and build a new one, legal fees and all.” He looks out at the storm. “You’d be doing this place a favour. I can’t believe there are people who want to live on Noveria.”

“The volus, as a species, are well-suited for these conditions. Krogan, of course, thrive here as they would almost anywhere else. What remains of their culture drives them to extremes.”

Nihlus flicks a mandible. “I mean you, specifically.”

“Only here for business,” Saren says, carefully peeling off a single layer of the hundred-layer loaf and dipping it in an elaborate concoction of ground spices. Nihlus follows suit, except he grabs a good quarter of the thing and rolls it around in the spice, making sure to give the ends a thick coat. Saren begins to sift out conglomerated chunks from the powder, setting them with the bones. Nihlus shrugs. Hey, at least he’d used a fork this time. 

“Business requires you to live in a refrigerator?”

“The cold keeps me awake when the paperwork grows dull.” Saren offers him the soup; Nihlus refuses. “I should have changed the settings after you arrived.”

“Does it help you sleep, too?”

Saren looks at him over the rim of the bowl. A whiff of steam obscures his eye. “At times, yes.”

“How does that work, exactly?”

“It’s a habit. After I finally resolved the Virial’s heat dissipation issues, her HVAC system began to act up. Competent mechanics have eluded me.” Saren takes another long sip. “I know you don’t like satusan leaves, but this was a good choice. Thank you.”

It came as a set meal, but Nihlus had picked that particular set from a menu of dozens, so he feels justified to beam with pride before setting his mandibles at a more serious angle. “I think you might need medication more than a mechanic. Spirits know there are enough doctors on Noveria, crooked or not.”

“‘Crooked’ is euphemistic, extremely so, in ways I’d rather not discuss over breakfast.”

Or ever, really. But Nihlus shrugs and reaches for the loaf again. It’s mechanically prepared, has to be; they’d never turn a profit otherwise. It’s also the reason he’d picked this set over the others. Saren had cooked it for him once, cutting a small chunk of meat into dozens of paper-thin slices with a wicked silver knife. Not long after, Nihlus had bought the same trio of knives for himself, though it had ended up collecting dust at the bottom of a drawer, only opened on one memorable occasion for some impromptu surgery.

This restaurant’s offering pales in comparison to those he’d sampled on Tenebrae, and is not even in the same star system as what Saren had made. Still, he shortens the stack, five slices at a time.

Saren watches him eat, his expression blank. The soup bowl is empty, but the other dishes are practically untouched. The blue pudding wobbles as Nihlus takes a second cube. Saren seems fascinated by it, though he soon shakes his head and makes to stand. Nihlus pulls him down by the sleeve.

“I have messages at the console,” Saren snaps. “And need to find a matching shirt,” he adds more gently.

Nihlus raises his hands in mock surrender. “Nothing that can’t wait, right? Besides, all your shirts are grey.” Saren pointedly lays his wrist on his thigh to illustrate the difference, and Nihlus sighs. “It’s an expression. All cats are… Oh, never mind. I just want to talk for a bit longer.”

Saren scowls and the little voice inside his head, who can really be a fucking coward sometimes, mutters: this is how the hotshot Spectre’s life ends, with his mouth full of pudding. Nihlus swallows the food, stuffs the voice down the same pipe, and meets Saren’s eyes. The look is venomous, but it bears no fangs. 

“Have you heard about Avitus?”

“Avitus Rix?” 

Nihlus nods. 

“No. What about him?”

“He’s planning to retire. Gonna get out before he hits his limits, or so he says.”

Saren snorts. “He won’t.” 

Listen to those undertones, Kryik, and understand precisely why you should shut up and count your blessings. Won’t even consider it for someone else, never mind himself. In fact, when you wrangled him into civvies -- Nihlus frowns, his stomach fluttering. The voice is drowned, though it’s trying to claw its way back up. “Don’t be so sure. Look at you. You’re more of a businessman these days.”

“I have found my limits.”

“You have? And what’re you going to tell me next, that your plan is to become a broker? A venture capitalist, even?” He chuckles. “Or that you really like Noveria’s weather, and that the alpine regions aren’t so bad during the summer. That you want to settle down here, adopt a couple of baby krogan. Don’t lie to me.”

“That’s a vast misinterpretation.”

“Enlighten me, then. What’s the retirement plan?”

Saren looks at him like he’s a modern sculpture, the one in that Thessian gallery that’s just a solid block of granite. Very dense granite. “The Council and related authorities decide when--”

“The Council,” Nihlus interrupts, “spent three days on an agricultural tax bill for some asari colony, added hundreds of amendments, and just left it on the table for next month. Pardon me when I say that they shouldn’t be the arbiters of our lives.”

“I see you’ve acquired an interest in Citadel governance. Recent?”

“Reluctant. Has its own charms, but best appreciated when I’m no longer slogging through Omega on their behalf, I’m sure.”

“Politics won’t suit you. Perhaps you should revisit the works of those elcor poets you praised not long ago. Your voice brings them to life.”

“Are you saying that I should do poetry readings at local dives for a living? Do they even have those on Noveria? I didn’t think so. It’s all so… modern. Clean and corporate. It stinks here, Saren.” Saren hums his assent. “If you’re trying to correct things, if you think they’re better than the slavers in the Traverse -- well, that may be, but the roots of all evil are the same, aren’t they? It seems futile. And besides, every adoption agency’s going to take one look at your face and hide their babies, krogan or no.”

“I’m only here for business,” Saren repeats irritably. “If you want to announce your own retirement, stop avoiding the topic.”

“Like how you’re avoiding yours?”

Saren glares at him then, and he’s pretty sure the delicate display case behind his skull now sports a couple of cracks. The little voice trapped in his gizzard lets out a squeak, which he quashes by helping himself to a generous serving of the bevelled cake. It’s cold now, but meaty enough. As he drops it into his mouth, he glares right back into those cybernetic eyes. Nihlus won’t be the first to look away. “Yeah, I mean it. Call me cocky, but don’t call me wrong. I worry, you know.”

Saren flexes the fingers of his prosthetic, and clenches them into a fist. Shards of ice are beating relentlessly against the windowpanes. “We can put those worries to rest.”

“Gladly, after you finish,” Nihlus makes a sweeping gesture over the remaining food. “Not sparring when you’re hungry.”

Saren impales some cake with vehemence. “Your remarks on the Council can be interpreted as treasonous.” Nihlus opens his mouth to speak, but Saren holds up his hand, the ugly mechanical hand he’d earned in their service. “It’s important to maintain our reputation of loyalty, especially in these times. We must keep other powers in check.” 

Nihlus works his jaw. Need to divert that combustible train of thought to safer tracks. “I get it, Noveria is a bad fit. You could settle in the Traverse instead; that’s a better idea. I’m sure they’d be grateful if you just shot down some pirates from time to time, retired or not. And then you can tinker with the Virial all day long, no distractions, no dockworkers. Plenty of unclaimed planets out there. How’s that for personal space?”

“Nihlus,” Saren whispers, and Nihlus suddenly gets the impression that he is speaking from a great distance, from the future, perhaps, where Nihlus’s earnest pleas can find no echo. From the distant past, back when Nihlus had believed himself beneath the notice of that famous Spectre, the youngest turian ever inducted, and now the longest to hold that post. Those ageless eyes are still mesmerising, though they no longer reflect his face. 

But then, then -- he realises that he’s tired. He slinks out from that gaze and gently shakes his head. 

“I’ve heard it all before,” he says. You believe you were forged, not born. Saren blinks, and Nihlus smiles. Feels like he spent hours getting Saren into that shirt last night. Under the sterile lights of the dining room, its narrow stripes clash horribly with his differently-striped pants. “I know, it’s okay. But it only means you’ll have time to find the perfect LZ with your Spectre privileges. I’m counting on you, because I’m not making hundreds of decision charts to find a place to call home. Tropical climates only, please. And preferably not like Invictus.”

The shared memory is enough to lift Saren’s mandibles by a precious few degrees. “And if the search is fruitless?”

Nihlus looks outside. What were once icy flakes had turned into dice-sized hailstones, and the window’s noise-cancellation function had automatically engaged itself. So much for the Noverian summer. The gravy around the meat, too, had cooled to an unappetising jelly. He shoves it around with his fork, making a little pile atop the last remaining slice. 

“This isn’t half bad,” he replies.

[ericsonclan]

A Sparkle Free Reveal

Summary: Louis gets Prisha to come over and watch Twilight with him and he is excited to find out whether Twilight vampires are anything like real ones.

Word Count: 2772

Read on AO3:

Louis could hardly contain his excitement as he slid across the floor in his colorful lightning socks. After countless times of asking and begging he had gotten Prisha to agree to watch Twilight with him. Of course he had told her that Violet was going to be at this special showing of the movie at his house as well, but as luck would have it Violet couldn’t make it. At least not for the first hour or so.

The werewolf’s text message said something about werewolf training or something. Louis wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. The one time he had seen the werewolf training that Violet did with Coach Garcia he only heard the older wolf talking about what was the best cut of steak. Whatever, he was sure Violet would drop by, especially since he said that Prisha would be here. Originally this was planned to be a double date but now it would be a date plus a cool vampire bro.

Louis hummed happily as he grabbed a ton of drinks and snacks. The frankenstein struggled to balance all the great treats in his arms as he wandered to the movie room. The candy shook around with each step he took and his hands were starting to dangle off as he carried the liters of soda. “Come on, old lefty and righty, we’re almost there!” Louis cheered on his hands which were struggling to hold on for dear life.

After a few moments the frankenstein found the movie room again and was able to place down the sodas, cups and candy just in time. “Phew, that was close!” Louis placed his hands on his hips and smiled proudly at the setup so far. He’d gotten a ton of blankets and pillows and the popcorn was popped and placed in cute little old timey popcorn holders. He had procured all the best snacks: candy, chips, popcorn and sodas.

Louis’ eyes widened in realization when he remembered that Prisha was a vampire. He had totally blanked and forgotten the blood packs! Though now that he thought about it, he might not have been able to get them at all. Earlier this week when he had asked his dad about how to buy blood, his father simply frowned in disgust and said he didn’t want to purchase that sort of thing. Louis was trying to think of a good solution when the doorbell rang. That must be Prisha and Clementine!

“On my way!” Louis declared loudly and tried to move his hands from his hips but as soon as he did he heard the all too familiar popping sound. With a groan Louis looked down and saw that now both of his hands were stuck on his hips. He could reattach them once he reached the fron door. For now he had to greet his guests. The frankenstein slid across the floor with lightning speed on his socks. His dreadlocks bounced around from the sudden movement and his hands flapped on his hips. Louis quickly reached the door and realized his mistake. He had no way to stop himself now. With a panicked yelp Louis ran into the side of the wall and fell on his butt. His legs flailed around and his right one popped off slightly.

“Louis! Are you okay?” Clementine asked, her tone filled with concern. She didn’t wait for an answer and opened the door. Her eyes grew large when she saw the state her boyfriend was in. Jogging over, Clementine worked to get Louis’ hands back on.

“I gotta hand it to you Clem, you sure do know how to make a guy feel special,” Louis’ smile grew when he heard the soft laughter of his girlfriend. The sound made his heart pitter patter; he was so lucky to be with Clementine. She made him feel like no other human or monster ever could.

With a small grunt, Clementine pulled Louis up onto his now fully attached foot. Louis grinned and stole a small kiss. His smile faded though when he saw Clementine pause for a moment. But it became clear as day that he had no need to worry about anything when Clementine returned the kiss. Her kisses always felt like electricity coursing through the frankenstein’s body. It was easily the best feeling in the world to Louis.

“Perhaps it would be best if I watched the movie with you another day,” Prisha’s voice made the two look over. The vampire was clearly already feeling like a third wheel.

“No! I wanted to watch Twilight with you today! Don’t worry, Vi said she would come over as soon as she could,” Louis reassured his friend. “Oh! You may enter!” he declared extra loudly and Prisha blinked, startled for a moment before laughing.

“No, Louis, it's quite alright. I’ve already entered this house before. Besides, the whole ‘a vampire has to be invited in to enter a room or building’ is complete superstition.” Prisha strolled in and looked around at the beautiful interior of the mansion. “It was propaganda that humans made to foolishly think they had the power to stop vampires from entering homes unannounced,” Prisha smiled, her fangs poking out until she saw the look in Clementine and Louis’ eyes.

“Are you a burglar in your free time, Prisha?” Louis whispered to the vampire.

“What? No! I was just- I have class and morals!” Prisha huffed and turned sharply around, causing her black cape to flutter up and dance in the wind. How she had not only agreed to watch this vampire movie but also to wear a ‘vampire’ cape was beyond Prisha. She supposed that was the power of friendship; it had been a long time since she had friends so she guessed it only made sense.

“Well, why don’t we start the movie?” Clementines suggested and slipped her hand into Louis’. The frankenstein beamed and nodded a bit too excitedly, causing the seams on his neck to loosen and his head to flop over. “I've gotcha!” Clementine caught her boyfriend’s head and popped it back in pace.

With his head resecured, Louis proudly led the way forward. He twirled Clementine around once before gushing to both girls about how happy he was to finally be able to do this. After leading the monster and human through the maze that was his house and into the movie room, Louis kissed Clementine’s cheek and scampered off to get the movie set up.

Prisha sat down and noticed the popcorn. Human food had little nutritional use for her but it was still tasty. She took a kernel and tossed it in her mouth. The buttery taste made the vampire’s fangs poke out happily. Clementine smiled at her friend’s happiness and began to get the drinks ready. She was about to prepare the blankets when Louis reappeared.

“Please, allow me, m’lady,” Louis took the blanket and dramatically tossed it in the air and let it drape over Clementine. He then slipped under the blanket and blindly searched for Clementine’s hand. After a second he found it and smiled lovingly over at his girlfriend.

The frankenstein watched the ads playing on the screen before the movie for a minute before he glanced over at Prisha. The vampire had made a nice little spot for herself and although she wasn’t expecting anything great to come from the movie she was enjoying the snacks.

“Pssst, Prisha,” Louis’ voice drew the vampire’s attention who gave him a look to acknowledge she was listening. “I forgot to get you blood packs. Sorry,” Louis’s face fell and his dreadlocks swayed a bit.

“That's quite alright. I figured that may happen so I brought some of my own,” Prisha pulled back her cape and revealed little blood pouches tucked along her belt.

“Ooo! That's good. I was worried,” Louis leaned back in his chair and smiled when Clementine kissed his hand. The frankenstein continued to watch the last few ads before the film when he remembered something else. “Oh yeah, Prisha, I got you a neat stand that looks like a cool tree branch so you can watch the movie in your bat form if you want,” Louis squirmed around to get out of his blanket cocoon to grab the stand. He made a series of victory sounds as he held up the cute little stand. Prisha’s eyes shone at the sight. It was cute and a thoughtful gesture. The vampire soon shook herself out of her wonder though. She wanted to make commentary on how much the movie would be getting wrong about vampires.

“No thank you, I’d rather stay in this form.” Prisha opened up a blood pouch and happily sipped it right as the movie started. It didn’t take long for her to make commentary. It was obvious that this interpretation of vampires was extremely inaccurate.

“Ooo! Ooo! It's their first meeting!” Louis chimed in and excitedly ate some candy. The three of them watched as Edward stared at Bella who walked in front of a fan. The vampire viciously clutched his nose as papers blew in the wind.

“What? Did he smell a fart?” Prisha’s question made both Louis and Clementine laugh.

“Nah, he just smelled Bella’s scent and it was too powerful,” Clementine commented as the scene continued.

“Well, that makes no sense. That would be more akin to a werewolf’s ability of scent.” Prisha pointed out and the frankenstein looked over at his friend.

“So you didn’t smell Violet when you first met and become overwhelmed by her blood’s scent?”

“No! I’m not a creep like this sorry excuse for a vampire! I’m refined!’ Prisha grumbled and fell back in her chair, causing her cape to fly up and fall over her face. Clementine and Louis laughed at the sight before the vampire worked to free herself from her cape.

The movie quickly continued on and the other vampires were introduced but Edward was always front and center. “Why are all of these vampires so moody? I don’t act like this, I’m not some dramatic-” Prisha looked over to see Clementine’s teasing smile. The vampire huffed and flopped back in her chair. “Whatever, my point still stands that they are too mopey.” Prisha tossed some kernels of popcorn in her mouth and washed them down with some blood. The movie continued on and Prisha started to point out more things. Why were all of the vampires sickly pale and all of them if not most were white? Prisha began to go on a small spiel about how vampires were actually created long ago and didn’t originate in Europe but in Asia. Clementine and Louis cuddled up close to each other and enjoyed the vampire’s commentary throughout the movie. The couple snuck little kisses here and there and ended up feeding each other popcorn and candy. Prisha was far too caught up in all the inaccuracies to feel like the third wheel anymore even though that was the reality of the situation.

“Oh, it's this scene. I’m sure Prish will love this one,” Clementine teased which made the vampire raise an eyebrow.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Prisha leaned over but Louis waved his hand.

“Shhh, shhh, you’re ruining the cinematic masterpiece of vampire storytelling,” Louis whispered over at the vampire. She couldn’t tell how serious he was being. Prisha decided not to focus on it though and returned her attention to the screen. Edward and Bella were now in the forest near the school where Edward was opening up about how dangerous he was. He listed reason after reason and Prisha fully believed he was correct in saying he wasn’t the right fit for Bella. Louis, on the other hand, was completely focused on asking Prisha questions.

“Prisha, do you have super speed?”

“No, I don’t,” Prisha responded and saw the little frown on Louis’ face.

“Is it a secret? It's a secret , right? Does Vi know about your speedy legs?”

“Lou,” Clementine gently pulled on his arm. “Enough about the super speed. Clearly Prisha won't tell us the secret. The secret that she has that ability,” Clementine joked and the vampire crossed her arms.

“I can’t believe this is what humans think vampires are like. They don’t think we’re a threat, they think we’re a joke.” Prisha slurped on a blood pouch with a pout when suddenly something on the screen made her stare at it in disbelief. Was Edward really shining now that he was in the sunlight? Before the scene could continue Clementine paused it.

“Sorry, bathroom break. Oh, I’ll also grab the leftover snacks and pop some more popcorn too,” Clementine leaned over and gave Louis a long, soft kiss before leaving.

After a minute Louis leaned over toward Prisha. “I need to ask you something important,” Louis’ eyes looked serious so Prisha turned her full attention to the conversation.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Do you sparkle in the sunlight? Or in general?” Louis gave an excited gasp. “Can you sparkle on command? Show me your sparkly powers, my wise vampire confidant!”

Prisha had had it. Without warning she abruptly stood up. “I am nothing like those vampires! I have no special sparkle power! Observe!” Prisha took the hem of her shirt and lifted it up to stomach, flapping the shirt again and again and again. “Does it look like I’m sparkling, Louis? Am I sparkling now? I have no spark-”

“Shit! Sorry I arrived so late! Werewolf-” Violet paused as she stood in the doorway. Her eyes were focused on Prisha’s toned stomach and she felt her face growing hot. The werewolf now had a deep blush on her face and as Prisha noticed her girlfriend had arrived she wasn’t doing much better. The vampire slowly let go off her shirt, causing it to fall back down and cover her stomach. The two stood in silence, both of them overwhelmed by what happened.

“Hey, bestie! You arrived at the perfect time!” Louis wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

“Louis!” Violet sent her best friend a look but her tail was still wagging just as wildly as it had been a few seconds ago. After a few seconds she noticed what Prisha was wearing. “Why are you in a cape?”

Prisha glanced down and felt her embarrassment grow. “I was told to look like a cool vampire,” She fidgeted with her braid; she was looking like an utter fool in front of Violet.

“I think you look cool,” Violet’s words made Prisha look up at her girlfriend. Her fangs immediately poked out as she smiled. Walking forward, Prisha used her cape and wrapped Violet in a hug. The werewolf’s ears were perked and her tail wagged ecstatically under the cape, causing it to flutter this way and that.

Soon Clementine had returned with the snacks and the movie resumed. Prisha seemed to calm down on her commentary now that Violet was here. Instead the vampire focused on showing affection to her girlfriend as they watched the movie. That didn’t stop funny comparisons between Prisha and the movie vampires from continuing. Many of the group’s favorite quirks about Prisha weren’t present in Twilight at all, like how she made cute bat-like sounds whenever she was gifted a blood pouch or how she got emotional over stories about bats. The four of them all enjoyed the movie though, even if it wasn’t the most accurate interpretation of vampires.

Clementine ended up falling asleep near the end of the movie, her head resting on Louis’ shoulder who kissed it before resting his own on top of hers. Soon the movie was done but neither couple wanted to move. Clementine was still asleep on Louis’ shoulder and Violet had ended up making a comfy little spot in Prisha’s arms.

“So… not a bad movie, huh?” Louis smiled over at the vampire.

“It was alright. It had its funny moments,” Prisha responded positively which made the frankenstein beam.

“Great! Because I have so many more vampire movies to watch with you! Whatcha say, you in?” Louis moved a bit too quickly, nearly waking Clementine but with a few quick kisses she fell asleep again.

Prisha pondered the offer for a minute. Sure, the movie wasn’t accurate but no human’s interpretation of a vampire ever had been. Besides, it turned out to be a fun double date. “Alright.”

“Awesome, because I found one with a vampire who has hair shaped like a butt!” Louis grinned.

“What?”

“Oh, but first we have three or four more Twilight movies to watch,” Louis’ statement made Prisha’s eyes grow large.

What had she just agreed to?

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Snake Bite

Chat log: Alastor learns to dab, Sir Pentious bites Alastor, and a couple of lonely old villains reluctantly talk about feelings and friendship.

If the read more doesn't work for you and you've gotta see this WHOLE LONG CHAT LOG on your dash, 1) you're probably on mobile, and 2) I am very very sorry, it's tumblr's fault and I did what I could.

Sir Pentious

Pentious is waiting outside the Hotel in HIS realm, he's out back in the garden and pacing... well. As well as a snake can pace. He's occasionally slithering in a circle.

Alastor

Alastor's practically scrubbed his skin raw in the shower; he's brushed his teeth until he's numb to the taste of artificial mint; he's picked a bow tie out of the ones Angel gave him—one of the red-and-gold ones designated for "sparkly douchebags" with the matching rose-shaped pin; and he's left something like a will with Rosie, along with a note to put it into effect if she hasn't heard from him by Monday.

He doesn't know what to expect.

He knows biting is going to be involved. He knows Sir Pentious wanted him to clear his schedule, with no indication of how long he was supposed to clear it for. Everything else is a mystery. Interpreting Sir Pentious's words literally, he's going to get bitten, writhe around for a while in excruciating pain, and then go home.

But knowing Sir Pentious—knowing his own—it might be a plot to disable Alastor so Sir Pentious can gloat over him for an hour before taking off his head with an exterminator's blade. And knowing the population of Hell in general, it might all be a euphemism for something far more salacious that he was simply expected to assume. All he knows for sure is that Sir Pentious is going to be very close, and aside from that it's going to be very unpleasant.

He could have asked for clarification. But asking for clarification would imply that his answer would change depending on Sir Pentious's.

It won't.

So here he is. Painfully clean, absolutely clueless, braced for anything, looking around the lobby, and realizing he's actually braced himself for anything EXCEPT the possibility that he might be stood up completely.

A few minutes after one, he sends out a few shadows as espionage—to Sir Pentious's room, to the boiler room, to the hotel's public areas—and finally, relieved, heads to the garden. He wasn't expecting outside. Maybe Sir Pentious wants to show off his big victory over the great Radio Demon.

When Alastor finally sees him, by way of greeting he calls out, "So how DOES one perform a 'dab'?"

Sir Pentious

Pentious awaited him in the garden, merely to avoid the eyes of that Weird Cat and the others who hung around the Hotel. The outside was brighter, and provided much more ominous lighting. Upon seeing Alastor and hearing his voice, he perked up quite suddenly, hood raising.

The question gets a scoff out of him.

"THE DAB? YOU DON'T KNOW??? IT'SSS LIKE THISS!" Stretching one arm out to the right, he bends his left at the elbow, and dunks his head towards the bend in his arm, holding the pose for at least three seconds.

Alastor

"Like this?" He copies the gesture, a mirror image of Sir Pentious's. A new weapon in his arsenal. "Ha. Like Dracula trying to hide from the sun." He plays a sizzling bacon-in-a-frying-pan sound, like vampire skin burning in the day.

Sir Pentious

Pentious claps his hands together, clearly amused.

"YESSS, JUSSST LIKE THAT! THEY HATE THAT ONE THE MOSSSST."

Alastor

The applause sends a jolt through his chest that he studiously ignores. "I'll add it to my catalogue of torture techniques."

He'd stopped walking far enough away from Sir Pentious that they're out of arm's reach of each other but close enough that they can talk at a normal volume—he wants to get so much closer and stay so much farther away, and this is the point where the impulses barely balanced out. Doing his best not to sound as awkward as he feels, he says, "So, speaking of Dracula..." He spreads his arms: here I am, ready and willing. "Were you planning on having this bite out here? Fine weather for it."

Sir Pentious

Pentious eyes him--he's happy with this distance, too. Satisfied, though, he wants to get closer too... his fangs ache a little, watch the other spread his arms. Yes, they had agreed upon that... At the time, he really didn't think that Alastor would agree. And now here they were! His head darts around some, the cobra looking him over.

"YOU AREN'T GOING TO TRY TO SSSLITHER OUT OF THISSS, ARE YOU, DEEREST ALASTOR?"

Alastor

The jolt is replaced by something more like a knife at the punny term of endeerment. He thinks he kept his wince off his face, but he's not totally sure. He lets his arms drop. "If I was going to be a coward, I would have gotten it over with before agreeing to meet and wasting both our time. I even dressed up for the occasion." He tilts his head, calling attention to his new bow tie.

The trophy Sir Pentious is showing off in his own attire hasn't escaped his notice.

Sir Pentious

"AH, I NOTICED. SSO HAVE I."

He pulls on the bow-tie gift from Alastor, truly VERY smug about it.

"THEN HOLD SSSSTILL..." He moved closer, quite suddenly--the rapid and threatening striking of a snake, his tongue flicking as he was mere inches away from the other.

Alastor

Alastor's eyes widen, he leans back, and his hand flies halfway up to his throat; and then he freezes. Damn. So much for acting completely unflappable.

Sir Pentious would enjoy seeing him flinch, at least.

So. Outside it is. Sir Pentious is probably hoping half of Hell will hear him make the Radio Demon scream.

Alastor completes the motion of his hand up to his throat, but only to undo his tie and fold down his high collar. When was the last time he'd been this close to Sir Pentious? Alastor can see individual scales on his face. He forces himself to make eye contact, offers a wan smile, and says, "Ready when you are."

Sir Pentious

He certainly does enjoy it.

His tongue flicks again, the appendage briefly touching the other's cheek. He didn't MEAN anything weird by it, but he certainly got a scent of him.

Pink hellish slitted eyes focused on the other, and he opened his mouth, baring those enormous fangs. Not yet dripping with venom, but oh the threat was there... Not allowing for anymore hesitation, he lunged--SINKING his fangs into Alastor's neck, deep and piercing.

Alastor

Alastor's eyes automatically squeeze shut as Sir Pentious licks him, his breath freezing. Before he has a chance to process the what the hell that means—

He gasps in sharply, a noisy crackling sound, as Sir Pentious's fangs sink in; but the gasp itself is buried under the sound of his voice stuttering across several stations, bursts of overlapping songs—a few incoherent notes of "Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life" and " Snake Eyes" and "Black Snake Moan." The pain from the bite alone is excruciating. Focusing. Focusing him primarily on the fact that Sir Pentious's face is pressed between Alastor's shoulder and his throat.

Sir Pentious

Pentious didn't really know what to expect upon sinking his fangs in, but the radio sounds should have been first on his guess list. It was definitely jarring to hear them so close to his head. Pentious places his hands on both of Alastor's shoulders, now digging his claws into his suit. Just claw him up! Why not!!!

At this closeness, it was all too easy to hear that raspy, human like breathing that cobras made. Like he was going to devour the Radio Demon whole.

Alastor

If Sir Pentious wants to take a strip of Alastor's throat with him when he pulled back—hell, if he wants to take Alastor's whole shoulder—Alastor isn't going to complain. He has to bite his lower lip hard enough to make it bleed to fight the urge to bite Sir Pent back—he's RIGHT THERE, it would be SO EASY to taste his blood—but that would be the end of this trust exercise.

At times it's struck Alastor that Sir Pentious's hissing sounds more than passingly close to a radio's static—and that's even more evident now, hearing his breathing like a rush of wind over a microphone, blowing over his neck. Alastor tries to steady his stuttery station-jumping breath. He leans into the pain cutting up his shoulders and curls his claws into the fabric at the waist of Sir Pent's jacket.

Sir Pentious

He can taste Alastor's blood, and it fills him with madness.

Pentious draws back, blood coating his fangs, as he holds the other up.

"HHMMM.... YOU REALLY DIDN'T MOVE. HAD YOU TRIED, I WOULD HAVE INJECTED YOU WITH MY VENOM!!!"

... But also, the lack of trying to escape, of trying to turn this into some sick broadcast... It resonated with the inventor. Pentious looked over his former ally, and frustration filled his gaze. Frustration and longing.

"... Why couldn't you have ssstayed?"

Of course, this wasn't the same Alastor. Not his own, but... whatever. A moment of vulnerability, just one.

Alastor

Alastor leans longingly after the retreating fangs before catching himself and straightening back up.

At the question, for a moment, his smile almost cracks. His brows draw closer, the corner of his bloody mouth twitches. When he replies, the constant distortion overlaying his voice dies. He almost sounds like a person. "Because I'm a coward."

He didn't mean to say it. He would never have said it under any other circumstances, but he's dizzy and lightheaded and euphoric from the pain and the close contact, and sick guilt he's spent over half a century trying to suppress is buzzing in his chest—and he's said it now.

Sir Pentious

The admission causes Pentious' hood to flare out--whatever he was expecting to hear then, well, just as before, it completely caught him off guard. He couldn't take it at face value, he couldn't trust him. His hand immediate shoots to Alastor's neck, grabbing him and pulling him closer.

"ARE YOU MOCKING ME, ALASSTOR? TELLING ME WHAT YOU THINK I'D WANT TO HEAR??? YOU??? A COWARD??? YOU MUSSST THINK ME A FOOL!!!"

Not that it sounded any which way! But... Pentious was angry to hear it, all the same. It's like he wanted the other to deny it, he wanted him to make up some sort of joke and play him for a fool. He wanted an excuse to tear him apart--but hearing this vulnerability in return put a sense of mortality in him he hadn't known in so, so long.

He'd been betrayed by his only friend, after all, and the serpent struggled so much in trying to make any.

It had been years since then, but still... It hurt him in a way he hadn't thought possible for his old black heart.

Alastor

His hands immediately fly up to the hand around his neck, claws digging into the wrist, prepared to wrench it off—and then, just as abruptly, he forces himself to let go. No, damn it, he's not here to fight.

"You don't want to hear this! I don't think there's a single answer you'd trust out of me but whatever's the cruelest thing I could think of to say—no matter what the truth is." Wasn't that the point of this exercise? To get around the limitation of words, the fact that Sir Pentious couldn't trust and Alastor couldn't be trusted?

So much for that. Hadn't Alastor already known there were no such thing as second chances? Let him be torn apart, it would heal in a few days and he'd learn an important lesson.

Sir Pentious

"CAN YOU BLAME ME!?"

Pentious' voice cracks as he speaks, and he eyes where he'd bit him. He had to think of Valera's words... He seems lonely. She'd compared the two, made them sound so similar... Could trusting him really be a good idea?

... He really did enjoy that visit they had together, eating pasta bolognese and drinking brandy. It had been so... familiar. Pentious frowned, frustration and... distress pulling at every part of himself. His claws flexed, but he pulled them away from Alastor's neck... and he looked down, pulling at his hood like he were considering covering his face with them.

Alastor

"No! I can't!" His voice is thick, a feedback echo whining under his words. "You have EVERY REASON not to trust me! I'd sooner ask Saint Peter for a second chance than ask you." He flings a hand carelessly in the vague direction of Heaven.

And yet, for a moment he'd been stupid and let himself hope. He had to remind himself who he was here to help. "I'm not ASKING for a second chance. Just—don't fight me. And I won't have to fight you."

He feels colder without Sir Pentious within touching distance. He crosses his arms tightly, biting one corner of his mouth to make sure his smile is still up.

Sir Pentious

It stings.

Pentious knows how he's being difficult. His hands open and close, and he grits his teeth, eyes closed tightly. He wishes he could just... move past this and immediately either be fully friends or fully enemies. This was purgatory like no other.

Agreeing to anything felt like giving up and the snake wasn't good at that either.

He glares at Alastor, "DON'T GO ANYWHERE. LET ME THINK."

Alastor

What is there to think about? How hard is it to decide whether or not to keep starting one-sided fights with someone?

But he collects himself. He takes a deep breath, uncrosses his arms, smooths out his bangs, clasps his hands behind his back, corrects his posture, fixes his smile properly back in place, and tries to look past Sir Pentious's visible turmoil and at the garden. Lightly, he says, "I'm not leaving," and immediately regrets as he realizes how easily he could have followed it up with this time.

Sir Pentious

Sometimes he wants to just... grab him by the face and force that smile OFF. But he'll calm himself...

He can't have him as a rival, or as a nemesis. Their paths were too different, and not only that, they were from entirely different Hells!

So close, yet.... Pentious took a deep breath. You're not losing anything, man. You're not. Why was this so hard?

His gaze travels back to the bite, and he flicks his tongue.

"... WHEN WASS THE LASST TIME YOU ALLOWED YOURSSSELF TO BE ATTACKED LIKE THAT?"

Alastor

He blinks, taken aback by the question—and then has to stop and think.

He's always had an unusually casual relationship with pain—and that only increased after he died and no longer had to worry about any damage being permanent. Hell, he's voluntarily been skinned alive so that he could get his own hide tanned—but that wasn't being attacked, that was more like an extreme cosmetic surgery. He's let people who would otherwise never leave a scratch on him get in a stab wound—but that was so he could lure them in close enough to rip them apart. As a child he'd sometimes been too afraid to fight back—but that's very different from consenting to being attacked, isn't it?

"Never."

Will Sir Pentious even believe that? Probably not. Of course not. Alastor wonders why he bothered to ask.

Sir Pentious

He looks at him a long time... studying his expression. Looking for something to pick apart... but it was always that same damn face.

The hum of radio feedback if he stared too long.

Alastor

There isn't much to pick apart. He meets Sir Pentious's gaze when he feels that sharp stare on him, then almost immediately looks away.

He wants to ask whether he ought to be contributing something to the proceedings or if this thinking Sir Pentious is doing is still a solo endeavor, but he forces himself to swallow his nervous chatter and quietly start playing "Snake Eyes" again to fill the silence.

Sir Pentious

The tune is so jaunty, and Pentious twitches... but this was exactly like Alastor, too. You couldn't have a moment's silence with him... The snake groaned, covering his face. Alright. Alright.

".... ALASTOR."

Alastor

The music snaps off. "Sir Pentious?"

Sir Pentious

... You know, it was. Definitely surprising not to hear "Sir Harold". It takes him a moment.

He takes out a GUN, and aims it at Alastor.

"TELL ME AGAIN WHAT YOU WANT OUT OF THISS, AND I WILL NOT QUESSTION IT AGAIN. YOU HAVE MY WORD ON THE MATTER. DO YOU WANT TO BE MY ... FRIEND? OR DO YOU JUST WANT ME OUT OF YOUR HAIR?"

Alastor

Oh—oh, good god, he hadn't planned on being asked directly. (Or with a gun. But the gun was meaningless, the gun was for emphasis. The gun was an exclamation point.)

Being honest had been the biggest mistake of this conversation so far. The closer Alastor got to telling the truth, the less trustworthy he sounded, the less Sir Pentious was going to take what he said into account. The safe answer was "out of my hair." It was the answer that would make sure Sir Pentious was...

... gone, again. Gone and safe.

But, unless Alastor was completely wrong about everything he thought he knew about this Sir Pentious—

—it sounded like he was, impossibly, offering Alastor a second chance.

He croaked, "Friend."

And then, with the dam broken, more tumbled out: "I give you my word that's not what I came to ask for. I'm only here to try to get myself out of YOUR h—hood. But if— What I want— That's what I WANT."

Sir Pentious

Well, he was damned. Valera was right.

This Alastor, much like himself, was a lonely old man. He wanted to be his friend. The snake could only stare, his arm lowering, and with it the pistol too.

"... Really?" This wasn't a voice of accusation or vitriol, or demanding anything. Just, outright, innocent confusion.

Alastor

Alastor had been half expecting a bullet through his pretty new rose-shaped pin. He HADN'T been expecting that look. Perplexingly, it looked like a sort of expression that suggested that Sir Pentious might actually believe him.

A wild panicked voice in the back of his head tried to tell him to yell JUST KIDDING, drop Sir Pentious through a particularly painful portal, and bolt from the scene like a buck out of Hell.

It was the same panicked voice that had gotten him into this mess fifty-fucking-four years ago. He wasn't going to listen to it again.

He looked for something snappy to say, couldn't find anything, and said, "Yes. Really."

Sir Pentious

VALERA WAS RIGHT AAAAAHe put the weapon away, straightening his Alastor's bowtie, and gave a smile... although it was strained. Struggling. "... YOU REALLY ARE FROM ANOTHER DIMENSION, YOU KNOW. THISS COULD NEVER BE MY REALITY."

Alastor

Bow tie. Right, he should—Alastor straightened his collar back into place and retied his now slightly bloodstained bow. "Nor mine," he muttered, his smile sinking toward a grimace. He could have said the exact same words to his own Sir Pentious—but those words NEVER would have been trusted by someone who knew exactly what he'd done when he left. The only reason he'd gotten this far was because that not-knowing meant he could get the benefit of the doubt.

What could he do, then, but milk it for all it was worth as long as he could?

"I can't do anything about my duplicate in your universe. But any time you care to come to mine... well." Well. Friends.

Sir Pentious

Oh, damn. There was that warm feeling in his chest--it felt like he had internal bleeding. It ached and stung, and Pentious clutched his suit some to try to soothe the pain.

He was too expressive for his own food, clearing his throat.

"DON'T SSOUND LIKE YOU'RE ABOUT TO TAKE YOUR LEAVE, ALASTOR. I TOLD YOU TO TAKE THE DAY OFF, AND YOU'RE GOING TO!"

Alastor

"Am I!" His face lit up. "Why? Are we finally going to get to thar part you promised where I'm crying like a baby from pain?"

Sir Pentious

"WHY DO YOU SSOUND SSO EXCITED?"

"YOU WANT THAT?"

Alastor

"Well, you were so graphic about it, you got my hopes up! I set aside the rest of the week to recover and everything." He paused just long enough to get Sir Pentious time to process that. "KIDDING! No, what did you have planned?"

Sir Pentious

.......... NOW HE'S ADVANCING ON ALASTOR, hood raised and eyes glowing red. That menacing long grin.

"OH, NO, ALASTOR, YOU WERE SSSSO EXCITED. I INSSSISSST!"

Alastor

For a moment, he stares at Sir Pentious, eyes wide. Somewhere beneath his usual static, S.O.S. beeps in Morse.

Then he flatly asks, "Do we have to?" But he's reaching for his bow tie again. One final test would be fair, wouldn't it? Alastor deserves at least that much.

Sir Pentious

Oh no. He looks conflicted!!! This man just told him he wanted to be friends!

",,, ALASTOR! YOU CAME HERE WANTING TO BE BITTEN AND POISONED AND NOW YOU DON'T WANT IT BUT ALSO DO?? BE CLEAR, BE CONSISE!!

Alastor

"I was joking about the poison part!" No more masochistic humor in THIS universe. "It sounds a little bit extreme for my idea of a fun afternoon. I was willing to do it to prove my, ah... sentiments—but if we're PAST that, I'd just as happily move on to something less excruciating."

Sir Pentious

He HUFFS. His fangs ache, wanting to bite into something again, but also... He looks strained.

".... SS... SSSSINCE YOU'RE HERE.... DO YOU WANT TO... COME INSIDE???"

Alastor

Is Sir Pentious disappointed? Alastor eyes him carefully a moment, then says, "Sure." After another pause, even more carefully, he asks, "Are you opposed to letting me see what you've been up to in that boiler room of yours?"

Sir Pentious

Little does Alastor know, Penny is suffering from a dizziness spell. It was a side effect of using his fangs like that, even if he didn't use his venom. He had a lot of physicality issues.

Pentious slithered towards the front entrance, "AH, MY RAIL GUN? SURE, AS LONG AS YOU DON'T THINK YOU CAN TAKE IT FROM ME."

Alastor

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Rail gun! Alastor followed after Sir Pentious, just short of skipping in delight. "What would I do with it, anyway—try to carry it around on my shoulder like a bazooka? Ha! No, no—I just want to see what kind of damage it can do."

Then they went inside to play with dangerous toys, the end.

[xenoredux]

The Legend of Silver Fang - Episode 1: The Birth

Alright, first part of the GNG rewrite aaaaayyy! As with the last rewrite, the major story beats and overarching plot are the same. This is written under the supposition that, in fantasy land, this is a mini series with episodes that run about 2 hours in length each. 

Some things to be aware of going in:

This story is violent as shit!!! CONTENT WARNING FOR: Firearms, various kinds of physical trauma, injuries to people and animals, the deaths of people and animals, search and rescue missions, self harm, animal and child abuse, and just a whole lotta spilled blood. Basically if any form of violence upsets you, it’d be a good idea not to read ahead

I was trying to achieve a decent adaptation that combines the strongest elements of the anime and manga. It will not be precisely like either and will occasionally totally deviate from both

This isn’t meant to be “better” then the canon. It’s just the way I’d go about rewriting the Akakabuto arc if I had that level of ungodly power lol

Character designs made to represent several mentioned characters can be found here and here. Others will be left up to the reader’s interpretation. A link to the next episode will also be provided at the end. If a link isn’t available, the next episode just hasn’t been posted yet!

THIS ALSO MARKS THE 34TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE ANIME SO HAPPY BIRTHDAY GNG LMAO enjoy

In the year 198somethingidk in the forests of Japan, a white Akita Inu named Shiro ("white") is tailing behind an unusually large Ussuri brown bear dubbed "Akakabuto" ( "red helmet") by the nearby village's populace due to the unusual red tuft of fur trailing down his back. Shiro is followed by his owner, a crotchety old fart named Gohei Takeda, renowned bear hunter and the world's least called out animal abuser (hint: this will become relevant later.)

Before the old man can take aim with his rifle, however, the shadowy mass from the winter darkness barrels towards him. As the dog tries to leap to his owner's defense, Akakabuto smacks off a good portion of Grandpa Point-n-Shooty's face, sending a severed human ear flying into a bloodied patch of snow. Shiro takes this as an invitation to do his best impersonation of Lassie and dives at the monstrous beast, grasping hard atop his muzzle to avoid his claws. From a nearby hill, a small red puppy watches the horror unfold.

While Shiro baits the bear, as is his job as a bear-dog, Gohei fires a bullet into the massive animal's right eye. The eyeball bursts in the bear's skull, but it also stops the bullet from traveling through his brain, instead lodging it into his grey matter and jostling around his nerve centers and pituitary gland. Understandably pissed at Gohei taking the shot, Akakabuto swipes madly at him until both himself and the dog stumble blindly off the edge of a cliff, resulting in what is surmised to be their deaths. Gohei faints in a snowbank, his vision running red with blood, as the unseen red puppy runs back to civilization to bring help.

Five years pass. Gohei continues to raise, train, and hunt with Akitas, but now it's for more then the sake of bringing home bear skins. He believes Akakabuto is still alive, and he wants revenge. The massive scar on the left side of his face is explanation enough for anyone to understand why. He continues to explore the forest near his home, now aided by several new dogs, including one of Shiro's sons, a powerful red Akita named Riki ("power" or "strength") and the same puppy who had saved Gohei's life all those years ago.

Riki has comfortably begun filling his father's shoes, enough so that he's established a reputation as one of the best bear-dogs in Japan. With a title like that, it wasn't long before Riki had been mated to an equally powerful and very pretty red brindle Akita named Fuji, and the buns he'd so kindly plopped into her oven were fit to enter the bakery of life and this analogy sucks

Fuji is not Gohei's dog. She belongs to the Fujiwaras, a neighboring nuclear family who own and operate a ski resort in the mountains. Daisuke Fujiwara, a young boy with a heart of gold and a nose of snot, has been tending to his dog during her pregnancy, and she's finally delivered what is universally understood as The Best Thing Ever: a litter of roly poly puppies! Daisuke is especially taken with the smallest of the babies, a handsome silver brindle boy, because Daisuke is a stuck up dog fancier who believes silver brindles, or Tora-Ges ("tiger striped") make the best hunting dogs. He ever-so-creatively dubs the puppy Gin ("silver") and decides the infant will do him proud someday.

But all is not well in Skiiertown. Gohei's hunt of Akakabuto isn't just motivated by vengeance. The village mayor is currently trailing behind Gohei and his dogs, discussing how the town needs money from tourists and that Akakabuto's alleged presence would surely make some of them go "yeah, no" and leave. Gohei doesn't care about the economy, but he does care that a man named Genji from the neighboring town has been mauled under """mysterious""" circumstances.

As the two oldies argue about which is more important, money or human lives, Riki scents and points out the mutilated remains of two wayward tourists, a young man and his girlfriend. He also runs defensively to Gohei's side, snarling wildly. Everyone looks around, confused. Suddenly, a flash of black and red drops from the tree branches above onto the men and dogs. As the men's screams and dogs' cries fill the air, so does a fountain of their blood.

Soon after, forest rangers in helicopters are dispatched to locate and rescue the missing persons and - if they can manage it, no pressure at all - kill the illusive demon bear before he slaughters more innocents. Daisuke watches the helicopters pass overhead and leaps onto his snowmobile, incapable of not getting involved in anything.

He makes a beeline for Gohei's now abandoned camping tent. Finding it empty, he's about to drive off elsewhere when paramedics emerge from the wall of trees beside him. The mayor, bloodied and broken, is being carried on a stretcher. Daisuke runs up to him and asks what happened to Gohei and Riki, to which he's met with a simple "Akakabuto" as the man slips from consciousness.

Daisuke rushes back home to break the news to Fuji and her puppies about what happened to their doghusband and dogdad. Daisuke holds Gin close and insists Riki can't die until he's seen his shiny Pokemon of a son, to which Gin, being literally like a day old, merely whimpers and wiggles. Gazing misty eyed at the puppy, Daisuke changes his mind. Gohei can't be dead. Riki can't be dead. No mere bear could kill a man like Gohei or a dog like Riki.

Ten days pass. Neither Riki nor Gohei's bodies have been found, but the bodies of Gohei's other dogs, Riki's eldest son Aka ("red") and friend Don, have been located by lodge personnel. The animals were mauled so severely that everyone begins giving up the ghost on this whole "finding Gohei alive" business. Besides that, the cacophanic cries from Akakabuto have frightened everyone into leaving the forest, afraid of becoming the next victims. The bear is greatly distressed - his brain damage leaves him unable to rest for more then an hour at a time, let alone hibernate, and being awake during winter is disorienting him. He runs madly around the forest, roaring and swinging his massive claws at anything that moves and also most things that don't.

While the bear plods around wreaking havoc in the night, Daisuke is dreaming. He dreams of the old man and his dog languishing somewhere in the woods, starving to skeletal husks. He dreams that Gohei, in an act of desperation, raises his gun barrel to Riki's head. The old coot, overcome with hunger pangs and a desperation to survive, murmurs an apology to his dog, explaining a dude's gotta eat. He fires off a shot in Riki's skull, killing his closest companion, before tearing savagely into the dog's flesh with his bear hands. And I do mean bear hands, as Gohei begins to turn into Akakabuto, ripping the dog's flesh, then the Earth itself to pieces.

Daisuke awakens beside a sleeping Fuji a moment later. He's absolutely covered in sweat. He laments on how fucked up his dream was as he reaches out and caresses first Fuji, then Riki's puppies, praying that at least the first half of his dream, the half in which Gohei and Riki are still alive, is true.

Unbeknownst to everyone but Daisuke's subconscious, Gohei and Riki are in fact still alive! The two managed to struggle into a ravine just out of the bear's reach, and they've been holed up ever since. Riki's back has been shredded badly, and Gohei's right leg has been broken, mauled, and rendered useless. Gohei has begun to get sick of sitting on his ass incapable of doing anything, and with an ominous glint in his eye, raises the hatchet he had been carrying in his pack above Riki's head, murmuring something about home cooking...

In a twisted, eerie parallel to Daisuke's dream, the old man brings the weapon down, but not on the petrified dog in his lap. Instead, he's sliced through his own injured leg! Having severed the useless limb from the knee down, Gohei demands Riki eat his flesh, regain his energy, and seek help at the village just as he did when he was a youngster. Riki is understandably not for this, and his resistance in the form of wailing and vomiting is loud enough to catch the attention of the red helmeted hellspawn himself. In an effort to protect his even-more-fucked-up-now owner, Riki does indeed gather the last of his energy to throw himself at the bear.

Daisuke's dad begins leading a patrol back into the forest, saying that even if they're dead, Gohei and his dog's bodies can't be left to stink up the woods. Daisuke cuddles a quickly growing Gin as he asks to go, but he's told to stay home with the puppies. After all, Fuji is coming with the crew to find her doghusband and his owner's corpses.

Diasuke pouts for the 5 minutes it takes the men to be entirely out of sight before shoving Gin into his coat and plopping himself into the seat of his snowmobile, once again refusing to be left out of the excitement. Meanwhile, Riki continues his dual with Akakabuto, experiencing the slicing and dicing of a lifetime at the hands of the fiend.

The battle between bear and dog rages on, and fresh blood from both animals spatters the fresh fallen snow. Daisuke, having vroomed on over, catches sight of this historic event from atop a hill, and without a second thought begins driving down towards the bear. He tells Gin to have a look at his father, and once Gin realizes that his dad isn't the big red bear, he's awed at his old man's strength and resilience. This thought is interrupted by Daisuke screaming a one liner and driving over an incline, sending the snowmobile flying right into the bear's face. Daisuke and Gin both bail from the vehicle, and Gin tumbles out of Daisuke's jacket.

Akakabuto appropriately gathers his bearings before lunging at Daisuke, pissed off that a child has bitchslapped him with a small car. Diasuke screams for help as a bloodied, super manly arm yoinks him quickly into the ravine. It's (obviously) Gohei! He's (as we've established) still alive, and frankly very surprised to see Daisuke here! But Riki's still in unsafe territory outside, as is...

Gin! The puppy has tumbled into the bear's path, and he's too slow and uncoordinated to run to safety. Thankfully, Riki has already thrown himself at Akakabuto to save the little lad he's only just met. Daisuke and Gohei watch helplessly as the dual continues, as does a spellbound Gin.

Riki manages to break away from Akakabuto and snag up his son, but the lack of food and the constant stress on his body have taken everything out of him, and he collapses to the forest floor, Gin clutched in his teeth. Daisuke and Gohei call out to him, encourage him to come just a bit further, begging him to save himself and his son, but he just can't do it, even with the knowledge of the puppy's lineage in mind.

In a final heroic act, Riki works every muscle he's got one last time to leap forward just enough so he can yeet his son into the ravine. His effort works, and Gin finds himself safely landing in Daisuke's trembling arms, but it's too late for Riki. As the dog gazes helplessly at his master, his friend, and his child, Akakabuto delivers a final blow to his side. The red bear sends the red dog tumbling off a nearby cliff, and Riki disappears into the black snowy depths below, followed by a trail of blood and Gohei's cries of anguish.

Pissed beyond words, Gohei drags himself out of the ravine, hatchet clenched in his fist. He's just about to tell Akakabuto to 1v1 him scrub, but then everyone hears something. It's the search party come to call, all armed with guns and thermoses of hot cocoa. Akakabuto takes one look at all those shiny boom sticks and high tails it, leaving a madly wailing Gohei behind.

Daisuke emerges from the hole with Gin in his arms, much to his own father's surprise. As the men gather to take the boy, puppy, and old man to safety, Gohei drags himself to the cliffside and weeps openly for the loss of his beloved dog and closest friend.

In a short while, Gohei finds himself on a stretcher all his own. He congratulates Fuji on her litter and Daisuke on his silver brindle puppy, assuring him that Gin will make a fine bear-dog someday. Diasuke is understandably feeling glum as Gohei is carted off to hospital, but he's emboldened by the old man's words, as is his puppy. Gin is too young to speak or even truly understand what's happened, but he knows something lifechanging has taken place.

Several weeks pass. Gin and his siblings grow larger, large enough for Daisuke to initiate training them for their futures as hunting dogs. The boy has masterminded only the most exhausting, trying test of ability for the young animals today: cross a snowy field to get to him. While his siblings flop through the ice like suffocating fish, Gin's intuitive sense of laziness takes him onto the clean-driven road, where he easily makes his way into Daisuke's admiring arms. Daisuke decides that Gin is a veritable puppy prodigy, and he refuses to ever let him go.

Before he can heap more praise onto the puppy, here comes Shinji, one of Diasuke's classmates and closest non-canine friend. Shinji comes bearing news: Gohei has left the hospital at long last. Not because the doctor cleared him to, but because the impatient inpatient insisted he couldn't wait around with his thumb up his ass (or up the wound in his leg) any longer. Akakabuto has only continued to terrorize and traumatize the village folk and their visitors.

This doesn't surprise Daisuke, who is, at anything, glad that someone still has the gumption to do something about That Asshole In The Woods. Gumption doesn't benefit everyone, insists Shinji. Given Gin's a silver brindle and demonstrably the most protagonist-y out of the whole litter, Gohei will surely come to take him someday. He's Riki's son, after all, and now that Riki is gone, someone will have to fill his pawprints.

Daisuke is preemptively heartbroken, remembering back to the first time he saw the elderly man come back into town with his dogs. Gohei had taken a blunt stick and smacked Don around with it for some unknown insolence that transpired during their last hunt. The memory sends Daisuke's stomach and emotions reeling, and he clings to Gin.

Or perhaps his heartbreak was not so preemptive, because Gohei began chugging along towards the ski lodge the moment he left the hospital parking lot. The old man barges in on the boys' conversation and snags Gin up by the scruff of his little neck. Diasuke's dad notices the commotion and busts into it, telling Gohei the doctor demanded he get 6 months more bedrest. Gohei ignores him, instead striking Gin across the face for no reason but to test how pussy the puppy is. This only causes Gin to begin chewing in anger on the old man's fingers, to which the weirdass only grins.

Daisuke isn't happy about his dog being slapped out of nowhere, but Gohei insists it proves Gin's got a fighting spirit, an inherent gameness. Not like those worthless siblings of his, who Gohei proves aren't worthy of being mentioned outside of the first arc ever again by bopping them both in the face as well. To a chorus of squealing, crying puppies, Gohei leaves, carrying Gin away.

As Daisuke cries after Gohei not to kill the dog, the old man carries the puppy out of sight. Gohei takes the puplet to his cabin, showcasing his collection of bear skulls and animal hides. He leans back from his crutches and informs Gin that he'll be trained in much the same way his father was.

Gin doesn't understand what this means until Gohei picks up a stick and starts beating the everloving shit out of him. Daisuke seems to have had a hunch this would happen, because he's followed Gohei home, and the moment he sees what he's doing to Gin, he's even more pissed then the last time he lost a game of Fortnite.

Diasuke can't keep himself from whining about "animal abuse" and how "it's not good to beat infants" and other special snowflakery, to which Gohei responds by deadass picking up his rifle. He reaches down towards the battered Gin, lifts him up beside the barrel, and fires off a shot into an ancient bear skull on one of his shelves, shattering it to splinters. The gun is so GODDAMN LOUD that Daisuke falls back from the noise, and yet the tiny Gin doesn't even flinch. He seems more mystified by the gun then scared of it, a level of comfort that Gohei remarks Riki took a year of training to achieve.

Gohei says that Daisuke can leave whenever he'd like, because this dog is too suited for the job for him to ever surrender him. Daisuke unhappily ceases arguing, but he insists on staying and watching Gin train, to which Gohei just shrugs dismissively.

The next morning, Daisuke awakens in Gohei's cabin to the sound of Gin's whimpering. He rushes outside to find Gohei trying to forcefeed Gin bear flesh, a strong smelling meat with the world's most uninviting texture. When Daisuke tries to interfere, Gohei punches the 10 year old squarely in the jaw, making it ludicrously hard for the audience to appreciate his presence. Gohei insists he's doing this to get Gin acquainted with the enemy's scent and prove to him his will to live, but all Daisuke hears is "wah wah wah me like torture children".

At suppertime that day, Gohei offers Daisuke some of the soup he's made. Daisuke says he refuses to eat until Gin does. Gin has yet to have eaten any bear meat, and Gohei refuses to back down and feed him anything else. Instead, Gohei supplements Daisuke's meal for a story about a dog he owned long before Gin was born.

The dog was a Tosa Inu named Rikiou ("king of power"), and he never knew fear, common sense, or self preservation. The first bear he ever encountered was too big for him to fight off, and, unwilling to back down for even a moment, it killed him. His head was crushed like a grape. Daisuke wavers on what this story means, but he assumes it means that if Gin wants to survive, he'll take the most logical route to do so, and that his aversion to bear meat will likely grant him more respect for bears' power in future. Gohei had no moral in mind tbh. He just likes rambling about his dogs (okay relatable)

The next morning, Daisuke decides he's done watching his puppy's samurai-training and goes home. He's back only long enough to greet his parents when everyone hears a scratching at the window. It's Gin! He followed Daisuke back home! Daisuke takes this as a sign that Gin would rather live with him then with Gohei, but he doesn't receive a chance to make this so.

Gohei comes up from behind the puppy and gives him a swift bop in the side with one of his crutches. He then snags a rope around the little pooch's neck. Gin wails miserably as the old timer takes him back to his cabin for another day of bruising and starving.

Three days later, Daisuke comes to call on Gohei once again, mostly to make sure Gin isn't dead yet. Gin isn't dead, but he IS super weak. Gohei states that the little bugger has stubbornly refused bear flesh for the past few days, which means he's had nothing to eat in nearly a week. Daisuke is at the end of his rope with this insolent boomer and starts kicking and stomping the bear meat around the room.

He straight up tells Gohei to fight him if he doesn't like it when he notices the old man looking past him towards Gin. When Daisuke turns, he realizes that Gin is finally, FINALLY eating! Now that the bear meat's been stomped on, it's soft enough for the little dude to sink his baby teeth into.

Several months pass. One day, Diasuke and Shinji are piddlefarting around town. The two become enraptured with the guns inside a weapons shop. Daisuke thinks out loud about how Akakabuto could easily be defeated if the guy who went after him had a rifle as powerful as these. His train of thought is interrupted by a man and his dog, a German Shepherd, entering the store. The man orders his dog to wait outside, and the animal follows his command with no hesitation.

The boys go to have a better look at the pooch, a young, handsome dog in a brown collar. The dog gazes boredly at the two. Shinji is impressed with the dog's obedience, but since he's neither an Akita nor a brindle, Daisuke couldn't care less.

Tired of gawking at a stranger's dog, the two head back to Gohei's place to peep what Gin's up to. "He's up to eating," Gohei basically says. But what he actually meant was "he's up to learning how to swim without breathing so he can eat the bear meat I've put at the bottom of a water basin". Which, by the way, is what Gin's doing. In fact, Gin will continue doing this exercise of his twice a day every day for several weeks, growing in muscle mass and understanding of how to not die via water inhalation.

In the meantime, Gohei sorta zones out while hovering over Gin's personal swimming pool. He mutters something about Riki training just like this to the boys, to which Shinji politely excuses himself and runs home. God forbid he stay behind to hear an old man ramble.

Daisuke, on the other hand, is a nerd who is intrigued by the knowledge Gohei possesses. He asks what it was like hunting with Riki, to which Gohei chuffs and turns away. He doesn't go into detail about his dog - he's still in mourning - but he does detail what it's like to hunt bears. It's all math and muscle memory, he says, much to Daisuke's disbelief.

Gohei asserts that the simplest way to kill a bear is to abide by The Centre Line Rule, a theory among bear hunters that states that all of a bear's weakest points are down the middle of its body when it's standing erect. Fire a shot off into a bear's chest or gut or forehead from dead center, and you'll learn why it's called "dead" center. Daisuke doesn't know if he believes the boomer, but he rolls the idea around in his head as he watches Gin collect his soggy rations.

After a bit of time passes, Gohei comes to visit Daisuke. He brings little Gin along with him. At first, Gin's siblings are very happy to see him. They rush towards him to play, cheering about how their brother has returned, and he instantly kicks their asses. Gin's siblings are no longer very happy to see him. They run to their mother's side for comfort as Gin comes to a heel at Gohei's leg in an insanely powerful flex on momma's boys everywhere.

Daisuke asks the old hunter what he's doing poking around these here parts, and after scolding him for speaking like a cowboy, Gohei invites him along to watch Gin's first hunting trip. Obviously since something's happening, Daisuke MUST be included.

The three head out to a river gorge nearby to blast some ducks outta the sky. Gohei is taking his sweetass time with aiming and firing, which is very uncharacteristic of him. It soon becomes obvious why, though. As soon as he manages to snipe a bird outta the air, he allows it to fall into the ravine below before commanding Gin to go in after it.

Gin is still too full of vim and vigor to be afraid, so he leaps into the foaming snake of water below, his basin training finally showing some use. From somewhere nearby, a man's voice can be heard barking commands in English, which I cannot transcribe here because I don't speak English.

As Gin braves the rapids, a familiar silhouette also comes down into the gorge. It's another dog, and Daisuke recognizes it! It's the pompous German Shepherd from the weapons shop, and before you can learn how to properly pronounce "nagareboshi", he's snagged Gin's bird up and started making off with it!

Daisuke shouts obscenities at the thieving bastard as Gin follows behind him. For the first time, Gin begins to speak to another dog, though all the humans hear is adorable yipping. Gin tells the dog to let go of his master's kill. The dog makes like he's going to say something sarcastic back, but his mouth is too full to speak.

Instead, the dog continues to bolt, finishing his sprint by climbing to the top of the cliffside and leaping to the other side of the ravine. Little Gin tries to follow suit, but his anime protag powers haven't truly kicked in yet, and instead he ends up missing the mark and tumbling back down into the water below. The shepherd snorts in smug amusement before scampering away.

Gin, Gohei, and Daisuke pack up and start heading home. Gohei is visibly annoyed at the loss of the kill. Even Gin looks forlorn about it. Just as Daisuke begins trying to soothe the two of them, a Jeep drives past. Sitting proudly in the backseat is a dog - the German Shepherd from before! Daisuke and Gin both call out to the thief to return their kill, and the man driving the Jeep stops and gets out to meet them.

Daisuke recognizes the man from the gun shop, but only Gohei knows his name. The young man is called Hidetoshi Sekiguchi, and he's the son of the village mayor, the man who was attacked by Akakabuto alongside Gohei.

Hidetoshi apologizes for the inconvenience regarding the bird, but assures them that it was his kill all along. He tosses the bird's carcass to Daisuke to prove it. The bird's head is missing, clearly having been blasted off its feathery shoulders by the force of a bullet. That bullet came from the shiny, new, powerful-looking rifle Hidetoshi had just purchased.

The young man is a doctor by trade but a hunter at heart, and he's come all the way back from the UK with this new gun and his faithful hunting dog John to kill the bear that mauled his father. Gohei tries to tell Hidetoshi that all the fancy equipment and stuck up canines in the world aren't enough to kill that bear, to which Hidetoshi just patronizingly grins and drives away.

As Hidetoshi and John drive out of sight, Daisuke and Gohei begin heading home. Gin trails a little behind, both spellbound by John's achievement and poise as well as frustrated by his stolen victory. He swears to himself that if he ever sees the GSD again, he won't lose to him once more. He scrunches up his little baby face in determination before following behind the others.

A couple more weeks pass generally uneventfully. Gin continues his training and keeps growing rapidly. Daisuke has tried to keep himself involved in Gin's upbringing, but he's been cooped up inside for a few days now. A blizzard combined with the constant looming threat of Akakabuto makes his parents uncomfy with letting him lollygag around in the woods. So tonight he's chillin' inside with his folks when suddenly they hear an erratic banging at the door. Fuji gets up and snarls, looking more scared then aggressive.

Suddenly, the door flies open and its glass windows, frosted from the cold, shatter. A man tumbles headlong into the living room. A large, bloody gash on the side of his head oozes all over the new rug, horrifying the family for both altruistic and materialistic reasons. Daisuke's father runs to the man's side, trying to keep him awake, while his mother runs to call an ambulance.

The man begins gibbering through bloodied teeth about a monster with a red mane and how his friends and son are still in danger. Daisuke's dad sends his son off to retrieve Gohei, which Daisuke does without skipping a beat because oh my god something he can be involved in, SCORE.

Treading through the snow on his shiny new prosthetic leg, Gohei allows Gin to lead he and Daisuke back to the man. Gohei recognizes him immediately - he's an old hunting buddy, a renowned bear hunter named Shigematsu. Gohei catches the attention of the languishing lad just long enough to see recognition in his eyes before Shigematsu succumbs to his injuries, dying on Daisuke's floor.

Gohei knows he can't stand idly by while Shigematsu's crew are at risk, so he gathers his rifle and his dog and heads out the door. As they leave, Gin looks over his shoulder for an instant at his mother. Fuji gazes longingly at her son as he exits the house. Daisuke and his father follow behind Gohei and head off to gather the same dudes who have been wandering around in the forest looking for bear attack victims for the past several months at this point.

As the group enters the woods, they come across an unexpected sight. It's Hidetoshi and John. Word spread quickly through the village about the man dying from a bear attack, and Hidetoshi wants a chance to fire a few bullets into Akakabuto's ass to make up for his suffering. He joins the men in their hike to Shigematsu's cabin, much to Gin's dismay. Gin still isn't very fond of the callous asshole of a shepherd he's forced to walk beside. John sneers at him, fully aware of how bothersome his presence is.

Meanwhile at Shigematsu's cabin, his remaining friends are trembling and sweating, guns in hand. They know the bear is lurking just outside the cabin somewhere, having a merry little picnic of any men who tried to escape. They inch against the wall only to find it crumbling behind them. A gigantic bear with a red trail of fur down its back roars and swings its mighty paws at the men, shattering their skulls upon impact. Their screams ring through the winter air, entangling with the buzzing of the wind.

By the time the group reaches the cabin, the bear is wandering outside. Gin takes one look at it and leaps into action, ready to be the bear-hound he was meant to be, before tumbling into a snowdrift he can't wiggle out of. John makes fun of the stoopid newb xDDD before using his longer, less silly legs to bumrush the big boogieman of a bear. He snarls and snaps at the predator's face, swiftly dodging his swaying claws.

Gin finally manages to free himself from his strongest enemy yet, the snow, and follows John's example. Only he uses a different source of inspiration for his moves: the memory of his father clinging desperately to the upper side of the bear's snout.

It's already been seen that Gin isn't very agile yet, and the bear takes full advantage of this by smacking him away as if batting at a silver striped fly, sending the puppy squealing into the snow, embarrassed but otherwise unharmed. Daisuke rushes to make sure Gin is alright. The men all open fire on the bear, but the fierce blizzard winds prevent them from getting a good hit on him.

The bear makes a break for it only to be distracted by John. Hidetoshi takes aim while his pet busies the big boy and fires his rifle off square in the animal's chest. The unsteady teddy stumbles with a wail of pain, rolling back into the snow.

As the bear tries to get up once again, Hidetoshi lets loose another bullet into the animal's left eye, finally sending it to bear hell where it belongs. In a moment of catharsis, he lets fly a few more bullets into the dead animal's skull, images of his father's mauled corpse dancing in traumatic fashion around his head. Everyone is still for a moment.

Hidetoshi is about to say something about honor and family or whatever when Gohei interrupts the celebration by pointing out that this animal cannot be Akakabuto. Buty Boy has no right eye, whereas this unlucky fucker had two before getting blown away. Everyone gapes. The striking resemblance the animal has to Akakabuto can only mean one thing: the tyrant has been getting laid, passing his powerful and dangerous genes onto a new generation. A feeling of intense terror spreads through the crowd, and about 50 feet away, a single, glassy eye shimmers in the darkness.

The dogs are shaken from their own stupor by the scent of something wicked this way coming. John and Gin snarl at the large black mass watching the crowd, and the men look to see the forest's resident bastard glaring at them. Akakabuto stares spitefully at the men, taking in all of their scents and faces. His gaze also falls first on the German Shepherd, then on the little silver ball of fur beside it. He can't pinpoint why, but the upstart (pupstart?) looks and smells incredibly familiar.

Furious at the sight of his father's murderer, Gin tries to run towards the hulking mountain of bear. Daisuke snags him up before he can run very far, though, and he settles with barking obscenities at the enemy instead.

Again everyone fires, but it's too late. Akakabuto is wicked fast and not nearly as dumb as his offspring, so he's already gotten the hell outta dodge. Hidetoshi swears out loud, blueballed by fate once again. Gohei tells everyone they'd best go home. Nobody who'd wander into the forest to find that bear at night could make it back out alive, not even him in his golden days.

Everyone begins the chilling, chilly hike to the village. Daisuke sulks coldly in more ways then one, distracted from where he's going by his own dark thoughts about the bear that's been ruining everyone's lives. Because of his lack of focus, the boy takes a nasty fall into a sinkhole the snow covered up, and he finds himself screaming, flailing, and falling into a break in the mountain.

Everyone cries out to him, grabbing at him, but soon he's out of sight. Daisuke shuts up for the first time in his life when his head strikes a rock and knocks him unconscious. He tumbles onto a cliff overhang before truly entering the Earth's core, crumpling into a helpless heap.

All the men are losing their minds over what to do, especially Daddy Daisuke upon realizing the hole is too big for any of the men to squeeze into. Everyone's flipping shit except for Gin, who is gazing longingly into the hole, and Gohei, who is gazing thoughtfully at Gin. The old man has an Aha! moment and throws open his pack to retrieve a rope, which he then firmly secures on Gin's collar.

Everyone stops freaking and asks what he's doing. He rolls his eyes as if it's the most obvious thing in the world - he's sending Gin down to drag Daisuke back up, DUH!

With no better options, the crew send the puppy into the pit. Gin's a pretty clever kid, so he understands his mission well enough. He's lucky, too, and finds Daisuke quickly. He tries to lick the child's face to awaken him, but it doesn't work. Daisuke's alive, but he's out cold. There's no hope of him climbing out himself. So maybe, just maybe...

Gin thinks fast and literally runs circles around the unconscious kid, wrapping the rope tightly around his torso and under his armpits. After a few turns of Ring Around The Search And Rescue Victim, the doglet gives a tug on the rope and a bark up through the tunnel. Nothing happens for a sec sans the sound of unintelligible, excitable speech, but then Gin gets some feedback. The men understood, and they're pulling the rope up.

To keep things really secure, tiny Gin is forced to clench his jaws around the rope and support Daisuke's weight with his neck. His collar digs into the baby fat around his neck, drawing blood, but he refuses to let go of his buddy.

The men give one last hard yoink and pull both of the youngsters out of the sinkhole. Daisuke's dad cradles his child to his chest, announcing that the kid is unconscious but still alive. Everyone cheers while Hidetoshi cradles little Gin, who is also fading from consciousness from exhaustion, to his own chest. Hidetoshi wipes some of the blood from Gin's neck as John watches. John's eyes soften for probably the first time in his life as he sees how Gin has still refused to release the rope. Is this what it's like to be humbled?

Daisuke's eyes slowly flutter open, which elicits another cheer from the emotional crowd. His dad hugs him tightly, gushing tearfully about his son's survival and the little dog's bravery. Upon hearing Diasuke's exhausted response back, Gin's own eyes shoot open and he leaps from Hidetoshi's arms into Daisuke's. He licks the boy's face eagerly, clearing it of the tears that have streamed from it.

Gohei comes to Daisuke's side, his eyes even softer then John's. He reaches down and lifts the puppy up just inches from his face. Gin's tiny tongue flicks out to lick the end of the senior's nose. Gohei brings the dog child to his chest and gives him a gentle hug and a pet on the head. Everyone looks on in disbelief. As long as any of them have known him, Gohei has never pet any of his dogs, let alone hug them. Gohei hands Gin back to Daisuke, allowing the child to hold the puppy close.

As everyone gets ready to head home once more, Daisuke declares his eternal devotion to the silver brindle dog, appreciative of his friendship and forever convinced of his bravery.

----------

End of episode 1, the episode with what’s likely the most non-dog child beating in the series!!! Hope you “””enjoyed””” it!!!

Episode 2: The Invasion

[abalovesfic]

The Demon, The Exorcist, and the Memory Chapter 1

We all do stupid things. And sometimes that stupid thing is posting an entire 47k fic at once... which then actually lowers people’s ability to see it because you aren’t posting on a schedule. A lot of my readership comes from Tumblr and I really, really need it.  So why can’t I cross post already completed chapters? Leave your comments, hits, and blood offerings at  AO3. Help me fix the mistakes I made against my baby! @transcendence-au ---------- Dipper looked into the cup of hot chocolate, his reflection cast back into the dark brown slurry. He looked the same as always, gold irises piercing back at him. Same sharp teeth and dramatic wings. Even after all these years, he never truly managed to change. “So what exactly do you do on your 5013th birthday? I think I’m a little too old for parties,” he said.

“Don’t be silly.” She grabbed a handful of marshmallows and forced them down into her cup, followed by three candy canes and a thick pulse of fluffy whipped cream. “You’re never too old for cake and presents. Don’t you have friends to hang out with?”

“Yes, but I’ve never told them when my birthday was. Sorta ruins the whole immortal demon thing I’ve got going on,” he muttered, tapping his claws against the side of the mug. “The only person who I’d even tell is Mizar.”

She chugged some of the hot chocolate, pulling the cup away to reveal a chocolatey brown mustache over her upper lip. “You should tell her. I think she’d like to celebrate with you: this is the big 5-0-1-3.”

Dipper laughed at her, just for a moment, watching as she tried to lick the chocolate away. “I’ve only found Fang a few weeks ago. We’re still adjusting to each other, you know? Fang and I haven’t really clicked yet. She’s been… difficult.”

Grabbing a napkin from the table, she rubbed the chocolate from her face. “Well it sounds like this could be a bonding moment for you and Fang.” She paused and chewed on a strand of her dark hair in thought. “I know it’s not easy going through this every few hundred years… but she is Mizar. A lot of things change between incarnations, but your connection doesn’t. So go grab a couple cupcakes and go visit her. I promise, she’ll see right through that scary demon exterior to your soft squishy core.” Reaching over, she bopped him on the nose with one finger.  

Knocking her hand away, he laughed. “Cut it out.”

“Nope.” She bopped her finger against his nose again.

Dipper’s grin faded just as quickly as it arrived. Something sorrowful creeped over him. “And what would you want to do, for the big 5-0-1-3? After all,” he looked at her, the soft curls of her dark hair caressing her face, how her eyes looked so bright and awestruck. “It is your birthday too, Mabel.”

Mabel’s smile changed. What was once joyous turned to a thoughtful and sad glaze across her face. “Oh, Dipper.” Mabel wrapped one hand around his. Everything about her was intense, down to the texture of her fingerprints. He could smell the combination of perfume and hot glue on her skin, count the stands in her wool sweater, see every freckle on her nose. “I’m not really Mabel, I’m just a representation of her.”

“I know,” his voice broke, on the verge of a grief filled rage. “You don’t have to remind me every single time. At least pretend or something.”

His memory of her was perfect, concocted of every thought, every word ever spoken by or about her. The most precise image of his sister he could muster. She appeared in her late 20’s, soft bags under her eyes from the exhaustion of raising triplets, but also vibrant and full of life. Every time he came to see her, she wore a new sweater every time he saw her, generated from one of his memories. This one happened to be her pink birthday sweater, the one she initially planned to wear for their 13th birthday 5,000 years ago.

After a while it had gotten too hard. He had Mizar. Every moment with each incarnation was a new adventure. But it didn’t change the fact that there was only one Mizar he wanted to talk to. Only one Mizar who knew him for who he truly was. But the only place she still existed was in his own mind. And, after all, he controlled the mindscape. So who was to say he couldn’t rebuild her from his own memories?

Mabel slipped her hand up to his cheek and tried to force his gaze on to hers. “I know you don’t want to celebrate because you miss her. But she would want you to. I want you to.”

“But I want y̸̛͖̤̲̟o̶͛͐ͅu̸̡̝̪͕͂͗̂͠ ,” Dipper said, unaware of the snarl carving in his voice. “Don’t you get it? I’m so tired of going through this over and over again. I want m̷̱̑ͅy̷̝̤̥͕̐͛ ̷͉͖̞̕s̷̭̓̓ḯ̷̘̘̲̾̍s̷̖͑t̸̛͔͈̰̔͜ȩ̶̭͚͔̀̓̍̚r̷̡͚̜̪͒̋͝.̷͍̞̝̓̀͜.”  

“Hey, snap out of it. Listen to me for a moment.” She had that big goofy grin he adored. “If Mabel had stayed with you all these years, you would have missed so much. Belle, Maddie, Marcia, Lane: all of my incarnations have loved you so much and you loved them. The universe is like a big sweater, sometimes you have to get a new ball of yarn. And now you have Fang as your new ball of yarn!”

He sighed, “Fang is a little scared of me, I think.” He shook his head, “Actually, I know she is. She doesn’t trust me yet.”

“Duh I’m Dipper,” Mabel did her best mocking interpretation. “I’m socially awkward and emotionally isolated. I have a hard time making connections with people and I use being a demon as an excuse.”

“I do not!” he retorted.

“Do too!” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Bro, you have to show her who you are. Being Alcor the Dreambender isn’t gonna cut it. You have to show her Dipper, the dorky nerd who plays card games and reads the same book 5 times just to make sure he picked up on all the details. She’ll be scared if all you let her see are the dark and violent parts of what’s happened to you.”

He stared back down at his reflection in the hot chocolate, haunting, dark, and eternal. “I’m starting to forget who Dipper is. It’s been so long.”

“Then let me remind you. Dipper Pines is the most loving person in the world. He’d do anything for the people he loves, including follow their soul around for eternity. He’s been a little broken down over the years, but it’s never stopped him from trying. I know this is hard. But you’ve never given up before. Don’t start now.”  

His smile was faint, “Thanks, Mabes. You always know what to say.”

Leaning back, she crossed her arms and gave him a smug grin. “Yup. I’m a genius. Now go have a birthday party with Fang. Let her know that this is a special occasion and you want to share it with her .”  

“I will.” Standing up, he gave her a kiss on the cheek and turned to leave.

“Wait!” She cried. He turned around. She pointed at his still full cup of hot chocolate. “Are you gonna drink that?”

“It’s all yours,” he chuckled and walked out of the Mindscape.

------

Fang sat on her bed, her usual clambering and shrieking emo/punk music vibrating through her bedroom. The array of all black clothing consumed her. The sleeves were torn away from her shirt leaving nothing but fringe and the muscled curve of her arms. She had her hair pulled into the signature, stumpy pigtails atop her head. She wasn’t paying attention, as usual, chewing on a piece of bubble gum and staring into her MagiOrb. The image appeared backwards through the holoscreen, though he could tell she was looking at a news article about the unfortunate dismembering of a child-sacrificing cult this morning, having been found with their organs separated from their bodies. Fang was nosey, that was for sure. Dipper sucked in a breath, trying to push down his nerves. He positioned himself at the back of the bedroom and rapped his knuckles against the wall 3 times to get her attention.

At first she was startled, obviously she was. He had surprised her and she was still getting used to him. Not just the way he looked or the faint terror that radiated from him, but the fact that he had become tangible. No longer a myth or a legend, but someone real.

“Oh uhm… hey?” she said, unsure what to make of his unannounced presence. Scrambling, she turned off the MagiOrb and tucked it beneath her pillow, as if to hide what she was looking at.

“Sorry, I know it’s not one of our pre-planned meeting times, but I wanted to see you today,” he said, still standing awkwardly at the back of the room. Unlike past Mizars, he had agreed not to blip in and out of her life at random. They made a schedule of days and times she was willing to meet with him, all of those meetings lasting no more than an hour, and she could send him away without question. He had also agreed not to approach her without permission. So he stood off in the far corner of the room waiting for her to motion him closer.

Fang gave him a confused but cautious glance. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine. It’s all good. Today is just kind of an important day for me and I wanted to spend it with you.”

Her shoulders hunched forward with curiosity. “What’s today?”

“It’s sort of my 5,013th birthday.” He gave a mild smile and nervous jazz hands, confetti spurting from his fingers and then disappearing.

“Oh.” She blinked her dark eyes a few times, lashes thick with clumpy mascara. “I guess I hadn’t considered that you would even have a birthday. Let alone that you would celebrate it every year.” She pressed her lips together, sitting in an uncomfortable thought.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I realize I just sort of popped in here and dropped this birthday thing on you. That’s weird. Like you said, demons don’t really have birthdays.”  

“It’s okay,” she replied, a genuine sympathy curling into her voice. “No it's okay. I wish I had known, I would have gotten you a present or something. Now I feel bad.”

“Don’t. Really, it’s okay.”

He watched her inch closer, shuffling herself across the bed, wrinkling the blankets as she moved. “What sort of things do you like anyway? Beyond murder and eating souls?”

“Very funny,” he replied, a sarcastic spit to his tone. “But seriously, I do enjoy things outside of eating the occasional soul.” But then he softened for a moment to think about it. Mabel had told him to show Fang who he really was. He supposed this would be the way to do it. “For example: I like the top 40’s pop hits. And I love role playing games; the ones from the old days when you had dice and graph paper. I like the smell of pine trees, the real thing, not candles. Oh and candy; the good kind, not that loser stuff.”

“What are you,12?” A slight snort of laughter erupted from her.

“I’m 5,013 ,” he said and stuck his forked tongue out at her. This was the first time he had ever seen her laugh. After two months of scheduled meetings, trying to force just a little bit of conversation out of her, he finally got Fang to laugh.

“It’s just so weird,” she said, the laugh slowing in her voice. “I thought you were gonna say warfare or videos of people falling down the stairs. Maybe professional wrestling. Something a little more chaotic.”

He shrugged. “I don’t like any of those things. Okay, well, videos of people falling down the stairs are pretty funny but not in, like, a malicious way.”

Fang looked over at him, standing in the yellow lamplight in the back of the room. A pink hue flushed his cheeks. She reached out to pat the bed beside her, inviting him closer. He did so, not quite sitting on the bed but barely hovering over it and folding his wings up against his back. She still went rigid when he got close, but she held her ground.

“What about you?” he asked, leaning forward with his elbows pressed against his knees and chin resting on both hands. “What do you like?”

“Oh,” she blinked a few times, clumpy lashes sticking together. “I thought you would have rooted through my brain for that information.”

“I’m trying out this new thing called privacy. I hear humans like it.” She contorted her mouth in confusion and disgust. “I’m kidding,” he replied. “I know what privacy is. Despite what you may believe, I do have a sense of right and wrong.”

“I can’t help what I believe,” she replied. The silence hung between them as if sentenced to death on the gallows. And even though her music raged on with angry synth-drums and screaming lyrics, nothing could cover up the quiet between them. Fang sucked in a breath, looking away from him as if disinterested. “I like bubble gum, punk bands that say ‘fuck’, horror movies that are so bad they’re good, dunking all my foods in hot sauce, and…” she thought a moment, “killing demons.”

He must’ve turned a stark white. “Seriously? Well, that’s...”

She smiled, a subtle curve at the corner of her mouth. “I’m kidding. I can make jokes too. I mean, killing demons is fun, but I wouldn’t call it a hobby.” Her glance was sly and wry, a slip of her true personality slipping through her exterior.

“Are, uhm, you still going to exorcist training?” he asked.

He could see the pieces of her history strewn about the room, as if she left everything out in the open on purpose. Old demonology textbooks were stacked on the corner of her desk (you could tell they were old because books stopped going into print 2,000 years ago), a protection sigil hung over the door, all of her awards and medals for exorcism-training were displayed proudly in the same manner that other teenagers might display martial arts or science fair ribbons. There was a faint and lingering smell of burnt aromatics used to protect the home. Everything about Fang had been shaped and cultured to distrust him.

It was one of the universe’s sick jokes. First, to take Mizar away, keep her hidden from his sight for so long, and then to turn her against him.

The way Fang looked at him always seemed to be accompanied by a threat, as if she were counting the ways she could bring him down. “I am.” She said it so plainly, as if she meant to insult him with the mundanity of it. “Dropping out would be suspicious. I’ve been training since the day I turned 12, to stop so suddenly would raise concern in the community. I have to pretend like nothing has changed until I turn 18 and I can take my test to become a full exorcist. And besides,” she said. “I think I need it now more than ever.”

He perked up. “Does that mean you’ve given the whole Alcor and Mizar thing more thought?”

“I haven’t,” Fang replied, a cold snap to her voice. Dipper then realized she wasn’t talking about fighting demons with him, she was talking about fighting him. She was still worried he might betray her. “I just don’t understand this Mizar thing right now. I need more time to…”

“Adjust?”

“Yeah.”

“I understand.” His cheek puckered where he bit down on the inside of it.

Fang leaned back, using the palms of her hands to press against the bed and stretch out her back. “So,” she said, eager to keep talking in order to ignore the absurdity of her situation. “What did you want to do? Considering it’s your birthday and all.”

“Oh.” Dipper hadn’t expected to get this far. He thought Fang would have asked him to leave by that point. “I don’t know. It’s honestly been a really long time since I’ve celebrated with anyone. How do you typically celebrate?”

“I uhm,” Fang rested her cheek on her hand. “I don’t celebrate. My parents are usually too busy; not to mention they’re pretty terrible gift-givers. They always get me something related to exorcism. Seriously, for my 5th birthday they got me a copy of My First Demonic Dictionary . It had all sorts of fun words for kids like ‘circle’, ‘fire’, and ‘human sacrifice’. And three years ago, I said I wanted some new music downloads. So they got me 3 albums of Latin chanting.” Dipper chuckled a little at that, though Fang didn’t appreciate him mockering her misery. She punched him in the shoulder. It didn’t hurt. “Cut it out. It’s not funny!”

“Sorry, that's just a terrible present. Latin chanting is the worst . I’m more of a classics guy myself; like BABBA.” He cleared his throat, it was a terrible nervous habit, considering he didn’t have a throat nor did he have something to clear out of it. “So really, you just spend your birthday alone? No friends or anything?”  

“No, I’ve never been good at making or keeping friends.” She sighed and leaned backwards so that her shoulder blades touched the back wall by her bed. “I guess that’s one thing we have in common. We’re both good at being alone. Huh?” There was a slight arc in her lips, a certain kind of look in her black makeup-rimmed eyes. Fang had the face of a silent film star; someone who had perfect control over their expressions. There was something coy in her face, like she had left a snare for him to walk into. She had him all figured out.

“What makes you think I’m alone?” he replied.

“Because you’re spending your birthday with someone you barely know. That sounds pretty lonely to me.”

He laughed to himself, a sharp-toothed smile spreading across his face. “You’re very astute, Fang.” Then his smile faded into something more soft and contemplative. “But we aren’t alone right now. And all I’d really like for my birthday is for us to try to be friends.”

He could tell by the pucker in her bottom lip that she was thinking. Letting out a breath through her nose, the tips of her bangs ruffled. “I guess I can try.” The deep brown of her irises looked nearly black as her dark gaze settled on his.

For the first time, the smile she gave him was friendly and the tide of her breathing became relaxed. Maybe things were finally starting to change.

[c-atm]

Journey's end and New Beginnings

  "There you are, Sweetberry."

  Connie 'Heartberry' Maheswaran, opened her eyes to Steven 'Mister' Universe looking down at her with a small smile. She patted the spot next to her.

  "Join me."

  Mister complied, dropping to the ground next to his Connie and leaning next to the tree with her before draping his arms around her as she snuggled close to his chest. Both looking at Beach city and Little homeworld in the distance from the cliffside hill. Enjoying the peace and quiet.

  "It's been two months."

  Mister didn't say anything but squeezed her a bit tighter. He knew what she was talking about.

  *Two months ago*

  Mister, Dapper, Witchy and Lion leapt out of the pink portal and on to Little Homeworld, never losing a step as the beast ran across the pavement.  

  "My lady. It's him." Mister huskily growled.  His senses on high alert feeling the familiar malevolent magic nearby.

  Witchy kissed her teeth as she gripped Lion a bit tighter. "It was just too good to be true." 

  "Mind filling me in? I rather not be left in the dark."

The demon and the witch looked at each other before turning to the half gem.

  "We know the demon who's here."

  Mister took account of the tone they used. It was one of guilt and annoyance instead of fear and caution. 

  "How dangerous are they?"

  He didn't know what to expect, never having fought a bonafide demon, but the annoyed expression the two demon hunters gave did elevate his worry a bit.

  Dapper grimaced in disgust  "Well they're powerful, but...."

  "He's a magician.  A very annoying summoner to be exact." Witchy continued with the same disgusted tone. "When we were hunting him, it'd usually be a mimic of some kind." 

  "He's not one to fight his own battles. Not the most physically conditioned for fights, but when you can create an army of your enemies you really don't  need to be."

  " And you don't think that makes him dangerous?!" Mister accused.

  "They're weak. Mostly used for distraction and allowing him to escape." Dapper answered. " Autonomous, self-regenerating and duplicating upon reforming. Yet can only be active as long as his glyph is activated and that will only remain active if he's around.. "

  "As soon as he leaves 5 meters from his glyph, his spell ends." Witchy added. "Also riding the glyph ends it too."

  "Ok so tell me about these…"

  Mister lost his voice as they turned into Granite Avenue and the scene in front of them. The street was flooded with black sludge like mimics in the shape of Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, and HB. They heard the sounds of battle throughout the street. Explosions from Garnet rocket punches, Blast from Pearl's spear, and the flesh like ripping from the demon Amethyst as they fought in front of  LHWR&D. 

  "Guys jump!" 

  Not missing a beat, Garnet with Amethyst under her arm and Pearl leapt straight up, passed the buildings height. 

  "Lion Go!"

  The beast eyes glowed and eerie pink before it tipped its head back before bringing it forward.

  "RRRWWOOOOOAAA!" A high powered sonic concussion blast ripped through the mimics, breaking them down and splattering them along Granite Ave. 

  "Messy but good job, Lion." Dapper congratulated  as he rubbed the beast's head.

  "Big bro! Big sis!" 

  The three heard from above to see. Purple falcon flying towards them, as soon as it got in range it morphed quickly to the purple demoness, who tackled the demon hunters off Lion and tackled them to the ground. The trio tumbled a few feet back before laying on the street. 

  Amethyst lifted her head up, tears in her eyes as she looked down at the hunters. 

  Dapper patted the demoness head with a smirk. 

  "Hey Amy, came to get us?" Witchy joked as she wiped her purple eyes.

  Amethyst nodded with a laugh. "You two have been gone for almost a day. We didn't know how to find you..but there was something like a ripple where Kelvin activated his spell.

  "And you just jumped in." Witchy reprimanded gently. 

  "No no! I gotta tethering spell placed on me by Garnet before I came. They wanted to make sure we all came back the way we entered." 

  "Wow, they actually planned it out." Dapper smirked. as he sat up with a groan before He stood to his feet he held a hand down to both of them and lifting them both to their feet effortlessly when they grasped it. Putting a hand around his partner's waist as he had the other on Amethyst's head. Who hugged them both 

  "I'm just happy you're not dead Bro and that sis isn't that scary sister."

  The Crystal gems watched the reunion with a  chuckling smile except for Steven and Lion who was looking around for a certain Berry.

  "Speaking of, I don't see Connie anywhere." Worry evident in Mister's voice. 

  Amethyst looked over and her eyes widened in surprise. "Bro..There's an older Bro over there."

  Before Dapper could say anything the black stains began to move and slither towards the center of the street. They soon conjoined and morphed to a towering, nightmarish gargoyle like knight. Complete  with wings, fangs, armor, and a morning star. Its roar shook the street and sky, causing everyone to cover their ears. 

  "I really don't have the patience for this right now."  Mister groaned anxiously as he made two bubble spiked boxing gloves.  

  He was caught off guard when Dapper grabbed his shoulder and pushed him towards R&D "Bro. Go help Sis."

  "Hold on. How you know she's in there."

  "Because she's not here..and that demon magic is doused with fear." Dapper smirked

  As if proving him right, a glass window broke from the third floor and a voice could be heard from it.

  "You think a shadow can stop me! Come fight, you coward!"

  Mister smirked at the sound before rushing into the building, leaving the others to take care of the behemoth.

  "Kids, take a step back. We can handle this and the last thing we want is for you to get hurt." Pearl stated as she stood in front spear in hand. 

  Dapper and Witchy glanced at each other breathing in deeply, slightly annoyed at being underestimated..despite it being from a place of care.

  " Wait Pearl. We should let them take point and follow their lead." Garnet suggested , giving the hunters a nod while adjusting her glasses.

  "Listen to the seer, Pearly. This is what we do." Dapper stated a bit cockily. He turned to Witchy with a smile. " You ready to work the rust off, My lady?"

  "Rust, he says." Witchy joked as she flexed her hands chuckling at the feel of magic running through her body. The heat in her veins. "I'll show you rust."

  The demon chuckled before turning towards the large still behemoth. Taking the homeworld sais off his back. They were large, pearl colored, and made of Homeworld metal. "Hey big guy.. Mind if I take a-"

  He didn't get to finish as the monster brought its spiked ball down upon him, creating a dust cloud. 

  "Steven!" Pearl yelled in horror trying to run to assist.

  "Sheesh you're a rude one huh?" Everyone heard from above to see Dapper sitting on a nearby roof looking down at them, his smile never faltering.

  The monster growled as it jumped after the demon,  swinging its weapon, preparing to smash Dapper flat. Only to be interpreted by an assault of Pearl's spear blast to it's back.

  The gargoyle roared in annoyance as it was brought back to the street below in a crouch, turning its attention to the women. Its wings began to glow and  flex as it got in all fours. It pulled its wings back about to attack. 

  'Can't have you doing that." Dapper taunted as he dropped on to the beast back and sliced the wings off, causing the beast to howl in pain. He watched as the wings became the shadowy sludge and slithered  back to the center of the street. 

  "My lady." Dapper called as he dodged  a punch from the gargoyle.

  "Got it!"  Witchy exclaimed as she concentrated on sensing where the spell perimeter began. She breathed deep deepening her focus as her eyes began to see a fleetingly thin rectangle black smoke on the street, two buildings long. Inside the square was a glyph that looked like falling feathers.

  She rolled up her sleeves and cracked knuckles before slamming her palm down a few inches in front of the sludge. Purple flame ran along the hidden spell, revealing to all as it burned away along with the sludge the withered under the magic flame, soon became nothing but the smell of brimstone.

  "Reformation spell is gone. you're free to let loose."  

  Dapper licked his lips in anticipation, crouching a bit low  and swirling his weapons playfully, a small glow in his demon eyes. He watched as the monster  prepared to attack with its morning star again. In a blink, Dapper sliced through that arm, making the monster permanently left handed. 

  The monster roared as it arm dropped and faded to nothingness. In anger it swung it's right hand wildly,  ripping through a few street lights.  

  Dapper lips pursed together as he prepared to take it out, when two giant rocket fist slammed to the beast exploding on impact.  

  "Um..Hmm. That was overkill." Dapper stated in shock as he looked back at the four, seeing Garnet  in front with her fist out.

  "It destroyed Little Homeworld property, it was the proper response." Garnet answered with a smirk.

  "Such a horrific judicial system." 

  A weak roar paused the joking, as he turned back to see the gargoyle climb to a kneel trying continue to fight.  It lost a hand, it's right legs was broken, pieces of it black skull were out and little by little bits of its form were fading away.

  Sheesh..You're more stubborn than the one who created you."  Dapper praised gently as the gargoyle sloppily charged forward, ready  to take the Dapper demon in its jaw. 

  It tripped forward and faded away before it hit the ground as Dapperleapt and removed its head. 

  While Pearl, Garnet, and Amethyst were taking on the horde of shadows outside. HB with sword in hand, was heading down to the main lab with the decommissioned gems intent on dropping them into their revival pool. After analyzing the properties of the Diamond's essence, Little HW was able to create a makeshift essence that held the properties of all four. It wasn't yet as pure but it got the job done just as well.

  It was made to help gems reform even faster than usual, fueled with the essence of all four diamonds it was great for gems...and  for organics as well as HB would attest. Nothing like a relaxing dip after a hard day of research and development.

   She entered quickly and headed straight for the back room. Opening the doors to an almost spa-like room, with a ten foot deep body of liquid essence, you could feel the magic properties in the air..before tossing the gems in the pool, she felt someone  Slashed at her back and kicked her in before locking the door. She groaned as the pain numbed and vanished just as fast as it came. 

  Grabbing her blade, she swam up and looked for the culprit and kissed her teeth at what she saw. A shadow version  of her, sword and all with smoke colored eyes and magic wisps off her.

  "Can you talk?" HB asked, honest curiosity in her voice.

  the mimic said nothing just pointed it's blade and..attempted to smirk in challenge.

  HB said nothing as she climbed out on the left side of the pool. As she was getting up to her feet Her mimic was already upon her, starting to swing its blade down upon her.  

  HB felt the slight graze of the mimics blade as she dodged away in a roll before standing in a ready position.  She was instantly put on the defensive being forced to dodge and block the mimic's consecutive stabs at various places of her body. She found  her opening when mimic over extended her final stab, allowing HB to slip in close in to deliver a rib breaking right hook to its body.

  Mimic grimaced and coughed without sound, but it did wither in pain slightly, only HB sword holding fist  connected with its solarplesou and again to its face as it was about to crumble to its knees, knocking it back and off its feet.  

  Mimic climbed to its feet in painful anger and charged forward, it swung its sword attempting to scalp HB, just to have HB's blade knock Mimic's from its hand. The last thing Mimic saw was the pink gleam of HB's blade and the pity in her black eyes.

  "Why is it always clones?" HB complained as she walked away from the fading shadow and out the room into the main lab, where the demon; Kelvin and another Mimic were waiting for her.  

  "My my my, You dispatched of that shadow swiftly, but that was just a small insignificant  thing..this one here is many ti-"

  The demon's bragging was silenced by his shadow's swift decapitation. HB kept her eyes on him and him alone as she moved forward, not caring about the fading body beside her. A look of aggravation on her face.

  "Well,  it seemed I underestimated you a bit. You're  strong..but you're still human!" The demon roared  as his body began bulk up. Muscles bulging as his body turned concrete grey, his height as tall as jasper's. he glared at her like a slobbering ogre. 

  "Now lets see you struggle before you prostrate yourself and become my doll."

  It happened instantly. The moment 'doll' hit her ears, her blade swung, the flat of it knocking Kelvin's jaw and illusion clean off. The demon fell face first into the floor trying not to choke in his own blood as fear gripped his heart. Every instinct in his body told him to run or die.

   "What was that?"

  He shivered at the cool and calm voice of the human woman. Turning to see her staring down at him, indifferent in face but her eyes burned with rage. 

  Kelvin listened to his instincts, scrambled to his feet and ran, making more mimics as he did.

  HB nose flared in annoyance "So..This is my night."  Before she gave chase. She took a quick moment to text Steven the situation. Once she was sure it was sent, she charged forward cutting down yet another mimic. and giving chase.

  'What the hell is that MONSTER? That's  definitely not the same witch..Hell, she doesn't even have the same magic as the young witch.. No flames, it's something different!" Kelvin thought  as he ran creating more mimics as he headed to the roof. " She's cutting them down faster than I can make them!"

  Kelvin trip over the step crashing into a window breaking it. 

  "You're gonna have to pay for that!" 

  Kelvin looked back to see another one of his mimics being cut down. 

  " You can give up! We can talk it out!"

  Kelvin felt the chill at her call, he growled at her before roaring at her. "HOW DARE YOU INSULT ME! KNOW YOUR PLACE POWERLESS HUMAN!" He created a trio of mimics to block her way as he continued  to run.

  HB was sighed in annoyance."You think a shadow can stop me! Come fight, you coward!" She charged forward slicing them down, " They're getting weaker each time!"

  HB took a moment to look out the window to see that Mister and the others arrived, the forming of the gargoyle  and Mister running in. She decided to wait for Mister to catch up, watching the others fight as he did.

  It only took three seconds for pink flash to meet up with her and take her in a protective hug.

  "You ok Sweetberry, He didn't hurt you did he?"

  "three seconds, did you walk up here?" She rolled her eyes before giving him a small peck. "Just a slash and kick into the revival pool." She shrugged nonchalantly.  "I've done worse to myself during training and experiments."

  Mister smiled with an arched eyebrow,  "The Cos-spheres prototypes?"

  "The very same."

  Mister was about to comment when a mimic came running down sword ready to cut HB from behind.  In a quick smooth motion, Mitser took HB in his arms,spun her out of the way and slammed a spiked bubble glove into the mimic's face, almost instantly making it fade from existence.  

  HB looked down at the shadow and back at Her Mister, before giving his cheek a kiss. "Whoa! Mister that was...That was hot." 

  "It looked like you…" Mister said in guilt and then anger. "Is this what you've been dealing with?"

  She nodded as she rubbed his fist. "It's not me,  it's not our little witch either. Just shadows in the dark. Can't even smile, let alone talk." She saw him groan and caressed his cheek. " You saved me, Bisky,"

  Mister nodded in agreement before focusing on the situation.  " So.." He stated as he looked passed her up the stairs 

  "Yeah.."  HB looked back the same direction . Two mimics coming down one of each of them. " This is going to be tedious."

  "I know a way we can make it fun." Mister smirked. "If your game?"

  HB smiled bright before giving him a hug  giggling as a pink light enveloped them both.

  Kelvin broke through the roof door. Nerves going haywire as he felt his glyph being burned away, as well as his mimics being destroyed even faster than before.  He hid behind door..ready to assassinate his persuaders by catching them off guard

  "I couldn't win head to head.  but If I catch them off guard. I can eat their essence, heal, escape and survive. Find a new place where I can torture and feast on humans, Just gotta get out of here."  The demon spoke to himself.

  "So you're going to run and hurt more people..is that what you said? That just won't do."

  Kelvin looked up at a figure staring down at him with a gentle smirk. The shadow they cast was terrifying  but it was nothing compared to their pink glow.

  "Well, that was a light workout..to say the least." Dapper jest, walking back to the group. 

  "No kidding, I didn't even need to clean up after you." Witchy joked as she tapped his chest. "Though, it was nice to get a little exercise in. Wipe the rust off."

  "Wasn't it though, my lady."

  She smirked as he kissed her hand. " Yes it was. We're not done yet  still gotta get Kelvin."

  "No need!" 

  A voice from above said as  a knocked out Kelvin fell to the ground in a pink bubble. On top of said pink bubble, in Steven's vest, jean's and sandals; as well as Connie's sweater, barrette and her sword in hand, was Stevonnie.

  Garnet and Pearl smirked at the fusion. 

  "Didn't think we'd get a visit tonight." Pearl stated happily.

  "I hoped we would." Garnet chuckled. "But didn't  see a future when you would.. He couldn't have been that hard for Steven or Connie, let alone both of them together"

  Stevonnie scoffed "Annoying, not hard. He didn't  even fight..He just tossed shadow after shadow. and I tried talking to him after he was pinned...but he tried to run me through as soon as I turned my back after that.." Stevonnie clicked their tongue while slightly  swinging a fist.

  "You did what you had to do." Garnet reassured.

  "Um..Who is this and why do they look like Bro and Sis adult child?" Witchy asked, confused.

  Stevonnie looked towards the three hunters, taking in their expressions.  Witchy looked confused and curious, Amethyst looked shocked switching her views from Stevonnie to the demon hunters, and Dapper smirked knowingly.

  Stevonnie smiled brightly looking at the two. " My name is Stevonnie. I didn't think we'd meet before you head off." Holding out their hand

  "You seem to know us very well, stranger." Witchy inquired, shaking the fusion's hand. 

  "Gues they wanted to give us one last surprise  before we go." Dapper joshed as he shook the fusion hand. " Didn't think it would be this."

  "Yeah well. They got bored of the tedious shadows and wanted me to take over."

  Dapper nodded in agreement. "So what can I expect  from.." He gave Stevonnie a once over.

  "I can't tell you cause it's different for anyone, and don't know how your version works but… If it's anything like me, It'll be an incredible experience."

  Dapper nodded in acceptance of that fact.  

  Stevonnie turned their eyes to Amethyst  who looked somewhere between amazed and scared. "You know I'm not gonna hurt you, right?"

  "You're still part scary-sis."  the young demoness stated matter of factly, getting a half snort from Stevonnie, before they came apart.

  "Wait, I'm not scary! Right? Witchy, tell her. I'm a sweet older sister."

  Witchy was too shocked at watching Stevonnie defusing to be a help.

  "Dapper, I'm a sweetheart right?"

  The demon gulped at her cool tone. "You're  very..Cool..Haha." Dapper took a step behind Witchy.

  "Garnet, pearl.." She turned to them giving them a sweet smile.. " I'm gentle as a newborn fawn.right?"

  "Connie..You want us to lie?" Garnet asked with a smirk.

  "You're very strong. Be happy with that." Pear answered reassuringly.  

  "Scary.." Amethyst comment

  "Mister, tell'em. I'm sweet, Right?"  HB turned to see Mister holding his stomach trying to hold in his laughter. "Really?" HB crossed her arms a small scrunched pout in her face. "I don't think I'm scary."

  "Can someone explain what I just saw?" Witchy asked. 

  *Present*

  "They left the next day. You still didn't get their Amethyst to not be afraid of you." Mister joked as HB groaned.

  "Yeah, thanks for that, you punk." HB gave him a half smile before pinching his thigh.

  "Ow..Scary berry."

  "Stop it."

  Mister chuckled as he sat her on his lap. Feeling content at her snuggling up to him. 

  "You think they're ok?"

  "Them two? Yeah. They're tough..Tougher than us in some cases."  Mister looked up as he spoke. Thinking about the next day.

  It was a bittersweet farewell at least for them. Dapper and Witchy hid it better. They were happy to be going back home, yes, but it still felt like they were losing siblings. It was the final moments before they left that was the hardest,  for the four of them.

  * Two months ago*

  They stood in front of the active warp stream,  staring at each other. older and younger, the same people, who lived different lives..and yet became so connected in such a small time.

  "So this is it. It was a short time, but it's gonna feel strange with you two not around." Mister stated, scratching his head in bashfulness.

.

“You’re going to miss us?” Dapper teased. “You should be happy to have your love nest to yourself again.” He continued.

  “Not even gonna dignify that with a response” HB folding her arms giving the demon a half smirk..

  “Maybe because it’s true.”Witchy giggle. 

  “Didn’t you tell us you two live together, alone.” Mister retorted with a smirk.

  “But we’re not as lovey-dovey as you." Witchy grinned smugly…

  “Empire.” HB and Mister stated just as smug. 

  The younger duo blushed, glaring at their counterparts, who sneered back.. Before the four broke into identical chuckles.  

  Until one of them started to tear up. 

  "Sorry." Witchy wiped her eyes " Something in my eyes. Dust from the warp.."  She chuckled as she did “I’m o-

  She was interrupted by HB hugging her close resting her head on top of hers as Witchy hugged her back. 

  “I’m gonna miss you so much, Big sis.”

  “I’m gonna miss you too, Lil sis.” HB  squeezed her smaller counterpart a bit. “Don’t worry, though. I’m gonna get this thing running and we’ll be together again.”

  “If anyone could it would be you.” 

  “On that same coin you could too...” HB took a deep breath before stepping’ “Now as your big sister and elder Connie, allow me to impart some knowledge.” . 

  “Yes ma’am.”

  HB looked down at the witch feeling pride. “You’re strong and capable, dependable and bright. I know you’re on your way to doing whatever you want in life, stay on that track...That doesn't mean you don’t have time for your relationships.” She glanced at the Stevens, before turning back. “ Take breaks every once in a while for yourself, let him pamper you every once in a while. Make little precious moments between you two.” She sighed looking serious.” If he’s anything like my Steven...If Dapper life is anything like Mister’s…You both we’ll need them like water.”

  “Sis.”

  “I don’t know what you two life is like, but if it's anything like ours ..I suspect it’s not easy..and it’s stressful..So always check in with each other and give each other space when it's needed...Sometimes self-reflection is the best thing you know.” 

  Wichy nodded in agreement. “Ma’am.”

  “ Love yourself fearlessly… So you can do the same for him. He might hide things from you to not worry you...Don’t let him and vice versa… Communication, flexibility, love and trust. Never forget these things..” She relaxed with a sigh looking apologetic. “What am i saying? You two are one of the most understanding relationships I've ever seen. You’re a strong woman already. I’m being assumptious, sorry about that.”

  “No no.” Witchy stated waving her hands “ It’s ok.. I appreciate it. Especially the whole self advice… I’m kind of a workaholic “

  “I swear, all Connie’s are” HB laughed.“Remember you matter Witchy. Self-care is paramount, I can’t stress this enough.”

  “You and Steven both.”

  “Your Steven does the same thing?!" HB laughed before she spoke mimicking Mister.

  ‘ Ni', those reports could be done tomorrow, go to bed it’s 2:30 am ’’

  Witchy giggled before impersonating Dapper. “ My lady, you don’t need to do that spell now, come eat.

  “Ni', you don’t need to practice right now, come watch tv”.

  “ My lady, why are you doing fire spells at 5 in the morning. Go back to sleep

  The two looked at each other before bursting into giggles..

  HB recovered first from the fit. “It’s sweet though. Heartwarming to know that someone as sweet, and loving and special as him cares so much about you.”

  “Just wished he would learn to do the same for himself a bit more .”

  Heart berry eyes widened at that, before falling into a sad smile. “Pay him back.”

  Witchy looked at HB with an amused smile. “ Pay him back?”

  “Yup, for every time he made sure you’re well rested, well fed, and well taken care of.  You make sure he engages in his hobbies, he’s not taken on too much by himself..That he’s taken care off as well.*

  Witchy grinned “Is that advice from one Connie to another.”

  “From someone going through the same thing. Loving a hybrid is hard.”

  Witchy blushed shyly. “He’s worth the hard times though.”

  HB nodded “'I've never regretted meeting him..Falling for him.”

  "So you admit that you're more than best friends, huh" 

  "I admit nothing about nothing." HB folded her arms, looking away before chuckling. "He is my best friend.. but what that means to us is for us to decide. Yes, we know how we feel about each other and act on it."

  "And how do you feel for each other?"

  HB sighed a maroon heat on her face throwing her hoodie over her head to hide her face.

  "You're blushing and hiding!?  Is my cool big sis..going to show her cute side?

  "Quiet or I'm not saying it."

  Witchy didn't say anything as she waited.

  "We make each other better, you know. I can function, succeed, and be content by myself..But when I'm with Steven..Everything seems enhanced. Not even talking about the gem powers. It's the way we cherish one another, care for one another and take time to understand one another; knowing that I have a compliment as wonderful as him. 

that makes me unstoppable"

  "A compliment?"

  "A compliment for my heart.  Even if it feels that he has become my heart at times. We just happen to fall in sync alot more than usual..You know how it is."

  Witch nodded in agreement  before chuckling "It almost sounds like you're contracted with each other."

  "Maybe you're onto something.. A contract written by our experience and time with each other...Seems appropriate  actually...since he does bite me, ever so often …" HB chuckled at her sister's blushing face and dropped jaw. 

  "Is that why you were so extra giddy two days ago?"

  HB just laughed. rubbing her collarbone 

  Witchty looked at HB face a bit red as she glanced  at Dapper talking with Mister. "So..how do we become like you and mister?"

  "It took..a lot for us to get where we are.. That being said.  If you're talking about the level of emotional intimacy then I say you're well on your way. If you're talking about physical intimacy.. Talk about what you want..and being a bit bold once in a while helps....But if you're trying to make your relationship a copy of ours..Don't."

  "I wasn't planning on that..but you two have an excitingly passionate and openly affectionate one.. Can't blame me for feeling a bit envious."

  "Maybe...But that's because of who we are..our relationship works for us… You and Dapper are already in a very mature, loving and devoted relationship. Everything you want for a more intimate relationship is already there and the best thing about it'll be your relationship. Unique to you two...Besides you two almost kissed in Empire, right? Just gotta let nothing stop you next time, remember little moments."

  "Little moments...Be bold...ok..I can do that."  Witchy stated with determination." I'll just go at it like I would a hunt." 

  "Thay how I started… I'm sure you'll be fine  Whooa!"

  HB was caught  off guard at Witchy's  sudden hug. 

  "Thank you Big sis.

  "For the advice? It's nothing. 

  "No!..I mean.. a bit..but.." She held her tighter.  "For everything. Giving us a place to stay,watching out for us, working to get us back."  she started to tremble. " For letting us see and spend time with our parents again, for introducing us to Lion and the gems and everyone, ...For treating us like your family."

  "You are family and you're very welcome." HB held her back just as tight. " Promise me you'll be as safe as possible over there. Take care of yourself ok?..Don't be reckless and have each other's backs.. Don't ever doubt yourself Lil sis. A brilliant, beautiful and capable girl like you, can take the world by storm, don't ever think anything less."

  Witchy could only nod  as gripped her sisters back for what might be the final time 

  The boys watched on, as the two Connie’s conversed among themselves. Dapper was caught by surprise when Mister pulled him into a one arm hug. The demon looked up at his alien counterpart questionably.

  “Big Bro?”

  “ I can’t speak for any other Steven, but you’re a blessed guy, Dapper. Demon powers aside, you got all you need to take on whatever your world might throw at you and win. the Intelligence, charm, the strength of will and the most important.” He nodded towards the girls. “Someone who thinks the universe of you, but will keep you grounded on earth.” He chuckled. 

   “You two are an amazing team. The trust, respect and love you share. That connection..It’s gonna take you two far in yours or any world.”

  “Speaking from experience.”

  “Most definitely.” He looked forward gazing at his Connie. “Gem powers be damn. That woman is my strength. She keeps me human and at the same time, makes me feel like I'm the strongest in the galaxy and the next moment she makes me happily weak.”

  “You love her” Dapper teased only to get a noogie from Mister. He released him with a smile. 

  “She compliments my heart and I hers.” he released his counterpart and placed his hands in his pocket. “ It’s no different from you two.”

  “You think so?”  

  “You don’t?”

  Dapper shrugged  “We don’t act like you and sis”

  “And you don’t have to. You two are not us, despite the obvious.” Mister sighed 

  “What If I wish we were.”

  “You shouldn’t. Word of advice, never compare your relationship with others. It’ll only blow up in your face. That being said, if you want more physical affection. Talk about it. ..Not like she’ll say no.”

  Dapper snickered as he looked forward at the two scheming girls. “I love her, Bro.”

  “Then make sure you continue to show her that. Use that demonic charm and sweep her off her feet.”

  “She’ll probably reprimand me, little tsundere mage.” 

  “Possibly, but that’s how you two communicate... She loves you, truly…”

  “I know… Don’t feel like i’m worthy of it sometimes.”

  “Show me a Steven who never felt that way and I'll show you a liar.”

  “Think 'Connie’s' feel the same way about 'Steven’s'?”

  “Well, ours probably do...Crazy right?”

  “ Yes it really is...That's why we gotta make sure they’re happy..right? 

  “Exactly....Just watch out for and take care of each other, and you’ll be fine.”

  Dapper nodded before turning to his older counterpart and hugging him. “Thanks bro, for everything.”

  “No need Dapper” the older one hugged Dapper back. “ Love ya, Lil bro.” 

  The two separated  as they went to join the girls. Once again the four of them were in front of the warp. 

  HB sighed  "Still hard to believe this is it. So soon too, my place's going to feel so empty now."

  Mister nodded, wiping his eye."Yeah, It's  sad, but your world needs you."

  Dapper looked up to the ceiling" Yeah..I guess it does."

  Witchy closed her eyes looking away. " Yeah but."  she looked towards the older two " It's not good-bye right? More like see you later."

  "If our resident mad scientist has anything to do with it.."

  HB tapped Mister on his shoulder.." I'm not mad..Just motivated by aggressively ambitious determination."

  Dapper arched his eyebrow with a  teasing grin " So a Maad scientist."

  "Oh really, you cheeky little boy." HB walked up to the demon with a teasing glare... before kissing the top of his head between his horns. Dapper face cheeks warmed up with a purplish flushed as he began to feel shy. "What a cute little brother I have."  

  Dapper scoffed before hugging the older Connie. "I'm gonna miss you, Sis."

  "I'm gonna miss you too Dapper. Take care of  yourself." She moved closer to whisper in his ear. " I mean it. Take care of yourself.  take breaks, have fun, Take her out on dates..She loves and worries about you. so you gotta step up a bit, alright?"

  Dapper nodded "I hear you.. and I'll take your advice...as long as you do too."

  "So cheeky, but deal."

  Mister and Witchy looked on before sharing a smirk.  

  "Sure you wanna leave already?"

  Witchy giggled "Sounds like you're gonna miss us, Bro."

  "Well maybe a bit. It was fun having you little ones around."

  Witchy pouted, giving him a tap on his stomach. "You two are just freakishly tall."

  Mister ruffled her hair affectionately.  "Whatever you say, Miniberry."

  "Ugh! You really are a punk!" She exclaimed  as she fixed her hair, before hugging him around the waist. " You're such a punk!" 

  "Yeah I am." Mister joked as he returned the hug. "I don't  think I have to tell you anything since Ni¹ probably already said it, but know this." mister dipped down to her eye level. "You're a sweet, beautiful, smart and strong young woman, and you're only going to get better if you stay doing what you do. So don't lose that focus. ..Also.. Don't make Dapper too jealous over there, little head-turner."

  Witchy chortle at that. "I promise only to make him moderately jealous.. " She hugged one last time, giving him a quick and light peck on his cheek. " Gonna miss you Big bro."

  'You gonna make me cry" Mister teased hugging her back " Gonna miss you, lil sis"

  As the two sibling pairs let go, Mister and HB stood by each other's they watched the demon hunters  prepare to walk through. 

  With a shy and appreciative wave to their counterparts the demon and the witch interlocked  hands and gave each other a grin..Before Witchy, with cheeks burning, gave him a quick and tender kiss.

  "Little moments!" 

  Witchy giggled at her sister's cheer before breaking iit leaving him stunned and smiling. " Let's go home, dapper demon."

  Dapper only nodded as he allowed himself to be led through the warp stream, which instantly died out as soon as he was fully through.  HB walked up to the warp pad and searched for any trace of a rift or anything semblance that they were really there. 

  Trembling, she wiped her eyes of tears when she found none.

  *Present (W-FF21) *

  "So..Nini, what did you ask me to come up here for?" 

  HB looked up as her Mister. "I've been thinking...I need a new adventure. I've been feeling stagnant at R&D.

  "You love R&D." 

  "I do..I do so much…" She sighed  " But, I'm ready for something new… I'm thinking of a traveling expedition to new lands...and I want you to come with."

  Mister grinned at the woman in his lap. "Still sounds like R&D work."

  "The word expedition..I admit that..it is somewhat related to R&D..A bit of data gathering is involved..but" HB sat up and straddled his thighs before kissing his chin and trailing upward.

  "That's only" 'Chu!'

  "Ten percent."  'Chu!'

  "Of it all." 'Chu!' ' Chu!' ' Chu!'

  Mister groaned a low growl at the rain of sweet kisses. "That's..cheating." He held her by the small of her back and the seat of her shorts..squeezing her a bit as she continued to kiss on him.

  "Yeah. You love my tactics."  She gave him a breathy giggle before kissing his lips. 

  "All this to get me to say yes? You Minx."

  HB was silent for a moment. "No. I just wanted to give you some affection." She pecked his lips. 

  "Sweetberry."

  "Besides I think if I tell you the first item of the itinerary, you'll be sold."

  "Oh.. "

  "Come here and give me that ear."

  Mister turned his ear to her, feeling a bit of excitement  at her secret...His excitement rose more and more as she spoke his jaw dropping as he turned to her proud face.

  "You're for real."

  "We're all packed and ready when you-MMM!~MM !"

  Mister stopped her speech with his lips on his own. His hand caressing her left cheek while the other pulled her close. For her part, She folded her hands at his nape and kissed back. They separated with a silent pop before she found herself being lifted up in a bridal carry.

  "I'm taking this as a yes, by the by."

  "Oh It's a hell yes."

  HB giggled. "My oh my Mister, swearing? What would Dapper and Witchy think?"

  Mister just chuckled as he carried her down the hill towards their new adventure. 

  *Present (WD-423)*

  Things instantly went back to normal for the demon hunters. They did their hunts like normal, saving people, killing demons, getting paid for it.  Witchy still studied her magic and went to her normal job, Dapper still attended to his garden, practiced his own magic, and did jobs with the crystal witches when he was needed. Nothing really changed for them. 

  Except..

  Dapper stood in his garden listening to his smooth jazz  from magical music notes like wisp in the air as he watered his flowers, a smile on his face as he did, gliding to the music. So engrossed in what he was doing, he didn't know he had an audience until he turned and saw a teasingly giggling Witchy.

  He didn't say anything as he commanded his watering can to continue the work and he made his  way to his Best friend and contractee.

  "My firey lady?" He held out a hand for her to take.

  "My darling demon." She took it with a smile allowing  him to pull her close to him.

  His left palm on the small of her back, her right on his shoulder, their other hands interlocked. Her head on his heart.

  They swayed to the music dancing in their personal  circle. Both blushing, but not at all nervous. It was an overwhelming welcomed feeling of affection. They didn't say a word to enthralled with being in each other's grasp. 

  She originally came just to check in on him when she caught him in his own world. She was going to surprise him when he caught her and offered his hand. It worked in her favor, her objective was to do this. Create a little moment  amongst their busy lives. Advice from her big sis, that she took to heart and something Dapper quickly caught on to.

  Ever since that kiss before their departure, two months since they've been back.. hey made a number of little moments..Some were things they've done before the trip, but now had an extra layer of meaning, like washing the dishes together, or researching a new spell or case.. Other things were spontaneous like this dance.

  All was memorable. 

  As the dance ended with a small twirl from then into his arms again getting a sighing giggle from the witch against his chest. He looked down at the slightly flushed face and instinctively squeezed a bit, getting a hum of curiosity from the witch.

  "Your heart pace changed." Witchy stated factually. She stroked his cheek with a smile. "It's faster now."

  "Is it ok?"

  Witchy nodded, before closing her eyes and slightly  partially her lips. The invitation was sent.

  Dapper purpled face and anxious moved in  holding her cheeks before his lips gently brushed against hers.

  Only to be interrupted by a sound they did hear in two months, and a stream of rainbow light like magic hit behind their home. The two looked at each in shock  and excitement before sharing their interrupted kiss and running to where the stream landed.

  It was rude to not greet visiting family after all.

[damienthepious]

Hello i love y’all and i wrote more of ridiculous knight and ridiculous lizzermonster dancing because i am hopeless, hopeless, absolutely hopeless

Even With Missteps (Chapter 2)

[Ch 1] [ao3] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [???]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Sir Damien

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla, (other characters mentioned)

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Dancing, Costume Parties & Masquerades

Summary:  There is a masquerade ball in the Citadel tonight. Every knight and citizen has turned out, and all of them bear disguises of monstrosity. What better time could there be, for a monster who needs to find a way inside?

Chapter Summary:  Is he still a thief, if he returns what he has stolen?

Chapter Notes: I straight fucking lied when i said this was complete with the first chapter. I just never thought I would actually finish this chapter too. Fam i am so far gone on this mess. They're sending me to space. This is. Too Tense. Happy Lizard Kissin' Tuesday!!! ;3 Also chapter specific warning for a brief moment of (what i would call canon-typical) mild suicidal ideation on Arum's part. Just one parenthetical, really, but please take care of yourself if that's an issue for you! <3

~

Arum hears the rustle behind him, the distinct sound of an arrow being nocked, and he scowls beneath the warm copper of his mask in self-deprecation. Too distracted, tonight. Altogether too distracted-

“Do not move, villain,” says a clear, sharp, familiar voice, and Arum grits his teeth. To keep from barking out a laugh, for the most part. “A knight of the Crown shall not suffer an intruder in her majesty’s chambers, not even on a night of such inverted morals as this.”

Arum does not move. He drops his hands from the closet in front of him, the silk catching on his claws, but he does not turn towards the human he suspects is standing at his back when he murmurs, “How did you know I was here?”

“A keen-eyed attendee happened to catch sight of your ascent,” the voice says, wry and insulted. “And the manner of your climb would suggest that either you have an inhuman proclivity for scaling walls, or that you are, in fact, inhuman altogether. A monster, intruding upon our Citadel. So, which is it, fiend? Am I placing you under arrest, or does this arrow fly now?”

“I was under the impression we were all monsters tonight,” Arum says, tilting his head, turning just enough to look over his shoulder. “And I thought that you were enjoying playing so, little basilisk.”

Sir Damien’s aim does not waver, but his eyes widen, his expression cracking into flushed surprise. “Ah- Arum?”

“Honeysuckle,” Arum greets, turning more fully, and Damien stares down the shaft of his arrow at him like a stunned rabbit. The little knight is still in his costume, still staring out from between sharp little fangs, but he appears to have summoned a quiver to go along with that bow of his.

Arum could bolt. It would not be difficult. He is quick enough that he knows he could dodge that arrow before it pierces him. He could almost certainly leap to the window, or pounce upon the knight himself, or rush past him to the door.

He stands still, though. He stares at Sir Damien, and certainly it is curiosity and nothing more that holds him in place. Will the little knight fire? Will he try to fight? Arum’s palm remembers the shape of Damien’s hip and he clenches his jaw tight and tilts his head, watching, waiting to see if the little basilisk intends to strike.

"What-" Damien pauses, cheeks dark, bow steady. "What are you doing up here?"

"Oh," Arum says. "Intruding, and taking what does not belong to me. Obviously."

Damien laughs, bright and surprised, and Arum swallows down the urge to step closer. "A thief," he chimes, and without taking his eyes off of Arum he shakes his head. "And so brazen about it, are you?"

"I do not see why you should be surprised, honeysuckle," Arum says with a shrug. "I stole from you already, did I not?"

Damien blinks. "You- what?" The knight looks, for a moment, half tempted to check his pockets.

"I stole a dance. A rather daring theft, if I do say so myself, considering the obvious deadliness of my mark."

Damien laughs again, and Arum tries not to feel it as a victory. The knight seems entirely determined not to drop his aim, after all, and it isn't as if the laughter on its own is of any value, regardless of the strange way it makes Arum's hands flex.

"Are you armed, then, thief?" Damien asks, and then it is Arum's turn to laugh.

"Quite," he says. "Though I do not see the point of drawing knives upon an archer."

“So…” Damien tilts his head, his eyes narrowing, more curiosity than suspicion. “You intend to come into custody, then?”

“Not at all, honeysuckle.”

“I do not wish to fire upon you, friend dragon, but you seem keen on making that quite difficult for me,” Damien says, and his brow is furrowed though his voice is still bright.

“I am aware,” Arum says.

Damien stares at him, the moment stretching out as Arum watches the human, as the tightened bow waits for ease in one of two ways.

“Remove your mask,” Damien says, at length, and Arum can’t help the laugh, then.

“Are you certain, honeysuckle?” Arum asks, and he does not bother to conceal the way his voice goes halfway to purr. “Is that truly what you desire? You seemed quite concerned, when we danced, about not betraying… how did you put it… the spirit of the event. Has that changed?”

“We are not dancing any longer,” Damien says, quite seriously. “You have revealed yourself as a thief. That is what has changed.”

“Oh, is that all that concerns you?” Arum says, and then he does take a step closer, finally. Damien raises the bow another inch, but Arum does not stop. He is curious. Terribly curious. How far must he push, for this knight to do his duty? How many steps must Arum take, for the knight to fire?

(Certainly he can avoid the arrow, but even if he is mistaken it will be an acceptable outcome. If he is killed here, the Senate will not have the patience to wait for his replacement to grow enough to be useful to them. They will have no hold left upon the Keep, it will be useless to them without a familiar, an interpreter. His death will be unfortunate but it will still serve his purpose, it will still protect his home in however an unpleasant way, though for some strange reason he cannot seem to make himself believe that Damien actually will- that the knight will-)

“Stop,” Damien says, his authoritative tone cracking uncertainly in the middle. “Do not take another step or I shall-”

“We could dance again, if that is what you would prefer,” Arum says, ignoring his words and creeping another step closer. “I can still hear the music from below - quite fascinating acoustics, this tower seems to have - and there is enough room here to take another turn together.”

“I will not fall for your tactics of distraction,” Damien says, but he still has not fired, and Arum is still moving, still closing the distance. “I will do my duty-”

“If you do intend do shoot me, honeysuckle, you will need to do so before I am too close to shoot,” Arum says, mildly, and the tip of the arrow is mere inches from his chest. “Or, you may dance with me again, and perhaps when we are done I will give you what you request. I will show you my face, and then you may decide if you intend to follow through and loose your arrow at last.”

The arrowhead scrapes the purple of his cape, tickles his scales through the fabric, and Damien is looking up at him with such uncertainty that Arum can nearly hear the shouting in his mind. He can certainly hear the shouting of his heart, hammering away in that chest, and the sweet sharpness of his breath.

“I stole a dance from you downstairs, honeysuckle,” Arum says, quite softly, and then he lifts a hand. “Would you give one to me freely, now?”

“I-” Damien stares at him, his eyes so clear and bright beneath his mask. “I… I cannot hear the music, from here,” he murmurs, and Arum could laugh- the limited sensory ability of humans strikes again, it seems.

“I can hear it well enough for both of us,” he says, feeling reckless and absurd, his hand still in the air, and he knows he has won when Sir Damien breathes a laugh and, at last, he lowers his bow.

Such a naive little fool, Arum thinks without heat as Damien drops his arrow back into the quiver, as he puts his weapon away, as he eyes Arum curiously. Such a ridiculous trick to fall for.

Any moment now, Arum will set upon the knight. Damien’s warm hand takes his own, and he slots his body close to Arum’s again. Any moment. At any breath, Arum will knock this knight to the ground. Will set on him with his knives, will claw him open. Will escape. Damien raises an eyebrow, and looks up at Arum for the length of a few long, quiet breaths.

“You will have to lead, of course,” he reminds, softly. “The music is in your ears, Arum, not mine.”

This is the moment, of course. There is a task before Arum, and this knight is in the way. He and his pretty voice and his careful steps and his clever face. He is in the way. Arum is supposed to remove him, now. To perform the task that he must.

Arum begins to dance.

It is a slower turn than the one they took together down below. The band is playing gentler, now, easing the crowd into the middle of the evening. Damien follows deftly although he cannot hear the beat, his eyes a little guarded, and Arum feels strangely helpless before that gaze. He begins to hum along with the melody as he moves, and then the corner of Damien’s mouth curls up just slightly. That feels helpless as well.

“I know this tune,” Damien murmurs, swaying in Arum’s arms. He begins to hum as well, then, harmonizing with Arum as they move, the ease of the notes making something in Arum’s stomach twist oddly.

Arum almost doesn’t notice their movements gentling, doesn’t realize that the steps they are taking together are softening until the both of them are barely moving at more than a sway, and Arum does not think he could grow accustomed to Damien’s unwavering heat pressed close against him if they danced like this for the fullness of a year. Something about it makes him breathless, and he can hear the way his little basilisk’s heart is thudding, faster than the beat of the song.

“Arum,” Damien murmurs, and Arum realizes that they have stopped moving, now, as Damien peers up at him from beneath his costume fangs. “I…” he pauses again, licks his lips, and then quirks them up into a hesitant smile. “I did not know dragons had such lovely voices.”

Arum breathes a laugh before he can stop himself, his hands on Damien’s sides squeezing lightly. “We don’t, little flatterer. You, however- I knew you had music in your voice downstairs. Even in speaking it rings like bells. A fine trait for a poet to possess, I should think.”

“Oh.” Damien laughs as well, eyes bright and playful. “Oh, you cannot call me the flatterer when you speak so, Arum.”

“I suppose that is fair enough,” Arum says. Damien cannot see his answering smile behind the mask, and so he does not bother to try to hide it. “Then I will content myself to thank you for the compliment.”

Damien’s hands are easy and soft on Arum’s shoulders, and the knight stares up at him for a long moment before he clears his throat.

“Has- has the song ended, then?”

Arum blinks. “What?”

“You’ve stopped dancing.”

“O-oh.” Arum bites back a whirring rattle of embarrassment, and makes himself give a stilted laugh instead, pretending not to be strangely overwhelmed by the amused look the poet is giving him as he stammers. “No, it is still- I- I was simply- distracted-”

“Sir Damien?”

The booming voice is muffled by wood and stone, but it is not distant enough for comfort and it drops down Arum’s throat like a chunk of ice. Damien looks similarly stunned as they both jolt, surprise making Arum loosen his snug grip around Damien’s midsection.

“Sir Damien, have you found the intruder yet? There was nothing in the eastern tower-”

“Angelo,” Damien mutters, his expression a little wild, and then he looks up at Arum with fear and guilt both clear in his eyes, his own hands pressed to Arum’s chest.

“It seems our time has run out before our dance is finished, honeysuckle,” Arum murmurs, and he is torn between the urge to laugh and the urge to bury his face in his claws and scream. “I admit- I admit I am disappointed.”

Damien makes a choking sort of noise, and it shifts into something of a laugh as he steps back, pulling himself from Arum’s softened grasp. “Yes, I- I am as well. But-”

Arum sees the sharpness that has returned to Damien’s eyes, the stiffness that has returned to his posture.

“You have your duty, Sir Damien,” Arum murmurs. He will not die for this little knight, no. He may- Arum may have some strange fondness for him, may have made some foolish allowances, but- there is a window within reach and if he needs he can easily knock this human to the ground, at the very least-

Sir Damien does not draw his bow again, however.

He stands, only a foot or so away from Arum but distant and cool, now, and he mutters tranquility under his breath three times like some sort of spell, and then he straightens his spine as he meets Arum’s eyes again.

“My duty,” Damien echoes, frowning. “You do not belong here in these chambers, of course, but- had you-” Damien hesitates, his hands flexing awkwardly at the strap of his quiver. “Had you taken anything before I found you, Arum?”

Arum works his jaw, clenching his teeth for a long moment before he answers, realizing only as Damien asks that he has been- utterly distracted from his purpose by this little diversion. “No,” he admits in a hiss. “I was not expecting interruption quite so soon.”

“Then it seems that the only person you have stolen from,” Damien says, “is me. If you remove yourself from these chambers, there will be no further cause for conflict or alarm.”

Arum stares down at the knight. “You… you are… full of surprises, little honeysuckle.”

“You stole a dance, as you said. I think in giving you another, we have evened that score. The only other thing you stole from me-”

He pauses, and Arum hears the poet’s heart stumble, hears his breathing pitch a little strange.

“What… what else have I stolen, little basilisk?”

Damien steps closer again, and Arum smothers another compulsive noise as Damien’s hands find his shoulders. “A kiss.”

Arum blinks, and Damien bites his lip before he meets Arum’s eyes to continue, lifting his hands further to very, very lightly cup the cheeks of Arum’s mask, a thumb brushing down one of his stylized teeth.

“It was a rather innocent one, and with this barrier between us, of course. And I- I believe you told me that when we finished our dance, you would remove your mask.” Damien inhales, unsteady, before he continues, “Show me your face, Arum, and return the kiss you stole, and- and I shall have no cause to call you a thief. I will be content to consider this a mistake, and you may leave without harm.”

Arum realizes that his own heart is pounding, too, from some combination of desire and despair. He wants-

Arum wants many foolish things, just now. This ridiculous human revelry has caught him up in its net, and his mind is spinning with song and heat and touch and laughter and all of this has been too much like a dream, too much altogether, and if he means to survive, he must wake up.

Letting Sir Damien know the face of the monster he has been in the arms of for much of the evening might serve to do just that, Arum thinks, perhaps a little wildly. This dream will certainly not survive that shock. Not for either of them.

Arum inhales, swallows, and with his heart still pounding he nods.

“If those are your terms, honeysuckle,” he says, his voice low in the effort not to shake. “Lift my mask, then. I shall do as you say, return the kiss I stole, and then I will- I will leave.”

Damien stares up at him, his eyes flicking between Arum’s, and after a moment his gentle hands push the mask up, and just as Arum suspected the knight’s eyes go wide with shock when he sees Arum’s face through the dark.

Damien seems stunned to stillness, near to a statue, and Arum can hear the footsteps of the other unwelcome humans slowly growing closer, and Arum still feels mad with this evening, still feels the rhythm of his heart or the rhythm of the dance downstairs beating through his very bones, and Damien has not leapt instantly to attack and that is certainly only the shock of Arum as he truly is, but-

Before Arum can reconsider, he leans down.

He is only doing as Damien asked, of course.

Damien makes a muffled noise as the thin line of Arum’s lips presses against his own, and Arum barely knows what he is doing but Damien kisses back after only the briefest of pauses and the heat of his skin is even more pleasant like this, his breath even sweeter when gasped against Arum’s scales, and Arum realizes that he has lifted his hands to cup Damien’s face only after he has already done so.

Damien breaks the kiss but does not pull back just yet, pressing his forehead against Arum’s as they both breathe, as they both find their footing again.

“Have I provoked you to bite, yet, little basilisk?” Arum hisses against Damien’s lips, and the poet gasps, his hands flexing against Arum’s shoulders.

“Sir Damien?”

The voice is far too close for comfort, now, likely only a room or so away. Arum does not have time to understand what he has just done, what Damien has allowed. He only has survival. The other knights-

They will not be like his little basilisk. He knows that, at the very least.

Damien stumbles back a step, pressing a hand to his mouth with his cheeks painted so very dark, and when he lifts his eyes to meet Arum’s again, Arum-

Arum hears the latch move on the door. The song is over, and they are out of time.

Arum flips his mask back down over his face, stares at Damien for only one more heartbeat, and then he turns to spring towards the window, back into the night and the noise outside.

[ythmir-writes]

Fictober 2019, Day 20

Prompt: “You could talk about it, you know.” Fandom: Ikemen Vampire Pairing: N/A (i am hesitant to tag this as a pairing) Audiences: Teen and Up for language

Arthur opened the door to The Pub, breathing in deeply the smell of alcohol, cigars, and something else besides. Although it was not rare for him to go to this watering hole alone, it was rare for him to do so on a Thursday night.

For a few decades now, Arthur and gone to this pub always with Theo in tow. It was only on Thursdays that the sulky art dealer was free from his usual rendezvous and it was only on Thursdays that Arthur’s favourite hostess was free. It had become a sort of tradition between the two of them to meet up in the mansion, sometimes with Theo knocking on Arthur’s door, sometimes vice versa, and the two of them informing Sebastian that though they hate to miss on his exquisite dinner preparations, tonight was going to be a late night and he need not wait up for them.

Sebastian had never questioned this, the good chap, even when they had come home with the sun already starting to peek out and greet them to a new day. And when Sebastian’s fellow time-traveller had joined the fray, neither did she. Though there were a few occasions that she had been ready to join them.

Arthur could still remember the first time. It had been a while ride, what with Vincent also happening to join them too and things getting somehow out of hand and very much interesting all at once.

He would never admit it, but Arthur had jotted down that particular event in his list of stories-soon-but-not-yet notebook. It was going to make for a great comedy one day.

More importantly, who knew a mortal woman could down so much beer in one breath, and do it six times over? The modern times were proving to be interesting enough for him to be excited for the coming of the next hundred years.

Since then, he, Theo, Vincent, and their little lost doe, would come together once a month for drinks. If Arthur was going to be honest, those were the days he was most excited for – and it was a shame that their monthly tradition had to be postponed today.

But then again, not really. He knew the reason why Theo could not be here today. And the little doe. And the thought made him excited for the two of them.

Thinking this and smiling, Arthur headed for their usual spot: the rightmost corner of the Pub. Just near enough to the bar for them to be seen by the Mark, the bartender, and at the right spot for them to be raucous without causing a scene. The little doe turned into a stag whenever she had too much to drink.

“Just you, Arthur?” Mark called from behind the long table.

Arthur raised a hand in greeting. “My friends have marooned me. I am but a poor soul abandoned in this watering hole.”

Mark laughed. “Your usual solo, then?”

“Please and thank you.” Arthur said. “Nothing like scotch to ease a man’s aching soul.”

Mark laughed again, shaking his head, turning to prepare just that.

Arthur leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs as he did. He was just about to take out his notebook and scribble down a few notes when all of a sudden, the door to The Pub opened with a loud rattle and the man Arthur least expected came through with angry steps.

Or at least, as much a man as Arthur was at the moment. Which was no not really.

Theodorus Van Gogh entered The Pub, a scowl on his face, an inscrutable emotion in his eyes, and all the danger of a three hundred year old vampire could display without showing fangs rolling off of him in waves. Every pair of mortal eyes seemed to be at attention the moment Theo entered, unsure of why they were made aware of his presence, unsure of why there was a sudden chill in the air that was more than just autumn chill.

Theo thundered towards Arthur and everyone in his way scrambled to get away from him, snapping even at Mark who had only waved at him.

Arthur frowned.  Something was up. Or rather, something had not gone down precisely as they had planned.

“That was awfully unfriendly.” Arthur said, trying to break the sour mood Theo was in with his usual jab. “Mark only wanted to know what you wanted to drink.”

“Scotch. On the fucking rocks.” Theo said, depositing himself in front of Arthur, who in turn apologized in his friend’s behalf to Mark with an apologetic duck of his head.

Arthur waited for two non-existent heartbeats and then said, “Are you going to tell me or do you want me to ask?”

Theo looked at him as if he was about to snap his neck, which only meant his best friend wanted to maim him but not outright kill him and was in a sour mood but not a really really bad mood.

“She didn’t feel the same way?” Arthur offered.

Theo sunk lower unto his seat, burying his face in his hands.

“So she hates you?”

“No!” Theo shot up, looking ready to fight. “No, she doesn’t.”

“I can’t play charades with you this way.” Arthur said. “If you’re going to come to me crying at least give me the gory details.”

Theo growled again. It was amazing how much he could say with only his throat.

Mark called out to Arthur from the bar, too shaken to approach their table, and Arthur obliged. He took the drink, placed it in front of Theo, and watched fascinated as Theo down it all in one go.

Much like their little doe.

Catching the unsaid signal, Arthur stood up again, asked for the bottle. “It’s going to be quite the night. My friend is heart-broken.”

“I am not!” Theodorus shouted from where he sat. “Stop it, Arthur or I swear – !”

Arthur angled his head but did not stop. “He gets like that when his heart is in a million pieces – ”

“Arthur!”

“Coming, dearest.” Arthur took the bottle from Mark, sat back down on their table and saw that Theo had taken the liberty to take his scotch as well.

Arthur sighed and sat down. “Well?”

Theo gave him a look and then dropped it. Then, he opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again and settled for downing another glass of scotch instead.

“You could talk about it, you know.” Arthur said to him, gesturing to the bottle. “Instead of this.”

“As if you talk.” Theo shot back.

Arthur raised his hands. “This is you we’re talking about. Not me.”

Theo rolled his eyes before tipping the scotch bottle to his glass and pouring himself what Arthur was sure was his third glass. Or fourth. He wasn’t too sure. He should start counting, for Theo’s sake at least.

Arthur leaned back, nursed his drink.

If his best friend did not want to talk, that was fine by Arthur. At least now he knew it was serious.

When Arthur had noticed Theo had feelings for his little snack, Theo had been red up to his ears in denial. But Arthur had noticed the discreet manifestations of Theo’s feelings in more ways than one and if Theo was not going to be honest about it, at least Arthur could help push them together.

Their little doe needed to go to the market? Theo is surprisingly free. She needed help putting up the curtains. Theo suddenly had good timing and a long reach. She was sick and needed herbs from across town? Theo was coming in from there, didn’t you know?

But if she was not reciprocating. Well, those things happened, didn’t they?  Theo would have opened up easily if it was a just matter of rejection, shouldn’t he? Only, perhaps the sting of it was something Theo was not used to receiving despite the countless time he had been the one to dole it out to other people.

“It didn’t happen.”

Arthur stopped mid-swallow, nearly choked on his drink. “What?”

Theo glared at him. He was not going to repeat what he just said.

“Is that open to interpretation?” Arthur asked. “Because I swear that could mean that you did confess and she likes you too, but the doing of the do wasn’t really –”

“She was painting. With Vincent.”

Ah.

Theo’s eyes were unfocused, remembering what he must have seen earlier despite obviously not wanting to. “I had asked her to meet me at the parlor at five. I waited for her but she wasn’t coming.”

Arthur waited for Theo to continue.

“I thought something must have happened so I looked for her. Kitchens first, because she usually helps with Sebastian. And then the library – because you know how she gets sometimes with Comte’s books. But she wasn’t in any of them and it got me worried.”

When Theo seemed to take forever, Arthur prompted him. “So you went to ask Vincent for help looking for her?”

Theo nodded and closed his eyes, as if the memory was too painful for him to recollect. “She looked so happy.”

And to that, Arthur, for all his ingenuity with words, found he could not say anything.

“I have never seen her look so happy.” Theo downed another glass of scotch, looked down.

Arthur stared at his friend, who in turn looked down at the melting ice inside his glass. There were a million and one reasons for Theo to confess to their mortal guest – the fact that she was there only briefly just one of them – but Arthur also knew more than anyone else the fear that often comes with living with a lifelong guilt. And having to see the face embodying that guilt every damn day – even Arthur was not brave enough for that.

So instead of revving his friend up with a pep talk, Arthur poured for his friend and chose not to bring up the dozen or so reasons Theodorus Van Gogh should not let the chance slip away.