#i fed (brought food out to) one of the foxes we have at work today

[iicraft505]

i had a very autistic moment about the plastic bag i use to carry my work shoes in today

[yutahoes]

Master

main characters: familiar! fox yokai! Yuta Nakamoto, master! shrine maiden! Y/N other character: familiar! snake yokai! Kim Jungwoo word count: 1.7k words genre: fluff, unrequited love, forbidden love summary: Being a familiar is hard. Being a familiar to a human is harder. Being a familiar for a female college student is the hardest.   warnings: unrequited love, jealousy, forbidden love inspired by the scenes from the anime ‘Kamisama Hajimemashita’

Czennies’ Anime Boy Birthday Project - Day 6

yokai - spiritual creatures who can change into an animal or a human familiar - a yokai assigned to the shrine master kamisama - Gods who grant wishes in shrines

“Call me master,” Y/N claimed that made the fox yokai glare at her. “We had a contract, Yuta.” Another glare from her and he sighed, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

He remembered clearly how the contact happened. She was almost falling to her death after being chased by an evil yokai who wanted to eat human flesh. Y/N begged for her life, wanting him to save her. The next thing Yuta knew, he was bounded to her with a kiss contract. Her familiar. He became her familiar against his own will. “Call me master.”

“Master!” Jungwoo, the snake yokai who became Y/N’s second familiar, shouted. Yuta glared as Y/N pat Jungwoo’s head telling him that he’s doing a great job. Why is he even here? The shrine doesn’t even need two familiars, even if it meant she’s just a human shrine master.

He didn’t even know why Y/N was chosen as the shrine master when she doesn’t have any idea on how to run a shrine. She isn’t even a kamisama, to begin with. “You can help her, that’s your work as a familiar.” the former kamisama would often tell him. But he’s used to him doing all the work since he had the mystical abilities.

How on Earth did a mortal end up as a master of the shrine? Moreover, a college girl? It only made his work harder now.

-----

Jungwoo smiled while watching Y/N get ready for school. “Yuta, you have to agree that she’s doing a great job as the maiden of the shrine.” The younger noted. “Do you know how hard it is for college students? She also has to do everything around our shrine and grant people’s prayers.”  

"Our shrine?” his little fox ears perked up. “You don’t belong here.” Jungwoo faked a cry, pouting at how heartless Yuta is.

But the snake is right, she is doing a good job. Maybe that's why he eased into this familiar business even if the contract was forced on him. She does her best to keep the shrine in perfect condition, along with the college duties.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Jungwoo asked, holding her cheeks. Yuta had to note that she looks paler than she usually is. The girl gave the snake yokai a weak smile. "Can't you skip school today?”

She shook her head. “I have an exam in two weeks. I have to attend school.” But the way she said it is so weak. When Yuta felt her forehead, she’s feverishly hot. “I’m fine, really. Don’t worry about me.” She announced before taking her bag and shouting that she’s going to school.

The fox groaned which made the snake laugh. “Keep the shrine tidy, Jungwoo.”

“Are you going to follow her?”

Yuta nodded before changing his white kimono to casual clothes. “The last time she’s weak like that, she brought a snake into the house.” Jungwoo revolted. “She can’t take care of three yokais, can’t she?” He was out of the house before the other could say anything.

------

University is really different. Y/N must be feeling really bad that she didn’t even care that Yuta just entered her class, posing as her cousin who just transferred. The girls were having a field day, staring at Yuta but all he cared about was the maiden of the shrine who was sleeping on her desk. He took notes of the lesson, even if he can’t even understand anything about it. She’s doing this while maintaining the shrine? Now that he thinks about it, she might not be mortal after all.

“Y/N,” he called which made her raise her head from the desk. “Eat this then go to the clinic.”

The girl rubbed her eyes before blinking twice. “What are you doing here?” She glanced at the girls who were looking at Yuta then stared at him. “They can see you?”

He smiled before nodding, putting a tempura in her mouth. “You don’t even take care of yourself. I guess I’ll have to do it for you.” He fed her with rice before placing a bottle of water above her desk. “Finish all this food. Jungwoo prepared this for you.”

When Yuta stood up to go back to his chair, girls were squealing at how sweet he is as Y/N’s cousin. The girl was just confused. Maybe she’s too sick for her own good that she’s imagining things.

But it was awkward not to continue the façade of being cousins even if Y/N got better. The girl was annoyed at how protective Yuta is at school. He wouldn’t even let her out of his sight, claiming that there might be an evil yokai or another yokai lingering around her.

Jungwoo was used to Y/N and Yuta always bickering whenever they got home but today, the girl was grinning at Jungwoo. “What happened?” he asked as the fox yokai went straight to his room without any words. “What happened to Yuta?”

“Just let him. He’s angry that I’m going to a mixer tomorrow.” The girl claimed. “Help me pick out clothes to wear.” The snake yokai shrugged then helped her find pretty clothes to wear.

Yuta didn’t even eat dinner or breakfast and even if Jungwoo kept calling him, he didn’t come outside the room. When Y/N left the shrine, that’s when he went out while asking if she really continued going to that mixer. Jungwoo nodded making the other hiss, “What is a mixer?”  

“She’s meeting a guy.”

“Oh, that’s why she asked for help to find pretty clothes.” Jungwoo claimed. “Maybe we should get her more pretty clothes.”

“Aren’t you annoyed?”

“Why would I?” Jungwoo asked, staring at the fox yokai. “She’s a college girl. It’s normal.” Yuta slumped on the floor, his ears drooping down. “Are you jealous?”

His ear perked up at that, white bushy tail wagging at the question. “I’m not!”

Jungwoo laughed. “Do you want to see her? We’re yokais after all.” He laughed some more when Yuta stood up and was out the door immediately.

They can see her inside a karaoke room with two girls and three guys who looked much older than them. Jungwoo is wrong. They don’t need to buy her pretty clothes, she looks pretty whatever she wears. Y/N was smiling. Her pretty smile, Yuta noted. “She never smiles like that with us.” Yuta said with a pout, making Jungwoo snicker quietly. He didn’t realize that the other yokai was gone until one girl in their group shouted that there’s a snake in her bag. What is that stupid guy doing?

Y/N hissed before taking the snake wrapped around her arm, running outside the karaoke room and to the back of the establishment to avoid people. “Yah, Jungwoo!” she scolded. “What are you doing here?”

“How did you know it was me?” he asked, still in his animal form. The girl raised her eyebrow arguing that there’s no other snake with pastel rainbow spots but him. When she asked if he was alone, he only nodded. “I was curious what a mixer is? You didn’t tell me you’re going on a date.”

“I want to go home, actually.” she confessed, crouching down and letting him crawl down on the ground. “How is...?”  

A voice can be heard calling for Y/N which startled the two. Jungwoo slithered away to a nearby sewer when she stood up to turn at the source of the sounds of footsteps. “Are you alright?” one of the guys from the mixer asked and she nodded. “That was pretty brave, taking the snake like that.” he claimed, eyeing the mark left on her arm. “Are you sure you’re alright? We can go to...”

Another smile and Yuta hissed, just watching her talk to a guy she barely know. “I’m fine,” she claimed while touching the mark. “Let’s get inside. They might…”

“Can we stay outside for a while?” he asked that made her stop. “I want to know you more.” The girl only nodded.

They looked awkward, Yuta observed, but she smiled again when he put a jacket around her. Does that make her heart flutter? A guy putting a jacket around her? He would always put a blanket on her at night. “Y/N,” the guy called that made her hum. “What do you like in a guy?” She turned to look at him but was surprised that he’s too close to her.

The guy leaned in closer, making Yuta annoyed. Instead of feeling lips, Y/N felt a palm on her face. “Do you want to die?” Yuta asked the guy who was shaking his head. He apologized before running away. Y/N glared at Yuta before shouting the guy’s name.

Instead of letting her leave and chase the guy, Yuta took the jacket placed on her shoulder and threw it away. “Let’s go home. I’m hungry.”

Y/N breathed hard before staring at Yuta in anger. The fox was surprised. He always sees her annoyed but never angry. “You and Jungwoo planned this, don’t you?” She shouted. “Why?”

She looked really furious. Her eyes were red with anger and he visibly sighed. I don’t want you to see other guys. I want you to always look at me. I want you to just stay beside me. I’m...

“Yuta’s jealous.” The snake on the ground claimed that obviously startled Y/N. Yuta called for the snake’s name before stepping on his tail, earning a yelp from the other yokai. Jungwoo wrapped his upper snake body on Yuta’s leg before biting him.  

They stopped when they heard a giggle coming from the girl. “You two are so childish.” she scolded although there’s no anger in her voice. “I’ll just say goodbye to them. Wait for me here.”

Yuta watched as her back disappeared as she head inside the establishment. “You like her, don’t you?” Jungwoo asked, already changed into his human form.

The guy only looked at him in surprise before returning his attention to her as she exited the building. “But I can’t fall for a human, right?” Yuta whispered. Jungwoo only looked at him in worry before welcoming the girl with a smile and asking her what she wanted for dinner. She asked what Yuta wanted since he’s such a picky eater, but the guy shook his head, “You decide, master.”

Y/N stopped in her tracks. “What did you call me?”

“Master.” Yuta whispered that made her smile widely. “You look so ugly, master.” The girl ran to chase the fox yokai who kept teasing her.

Jungwoo shook his head, looking at the sky while whispering the words, “Gods, help me.”

[akampana]

16 cutoria but in a vampire/werewolf au?

ANON LOOK WHAT YOU DID ITS 6716 WORDS LONG/lh

16 “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but I have no choice.” Werewolf AU Cú Chulainn x Arturia Pendragon

________

“You’ve stalled for too long, brat.”

The she-wolf dropped into the clearing without a sound, her experienced paws padding across the forest floor as lightly as the beating of butterfly wings. Scáthach was a creature of grace, even as a large canine. Her hunts were nothing short of elegant either, carried out quiet enough such as not to disturb the night. It was no wonder at all that she was once the Alpha of the pack.

The new Alpha was not so. Though the runs he was tasked to lead were mostly just as productive, he was rough and arrogant, hunting larger prey while scorning rabbits and smaller faunus. While the pups enjoyed being handed larger game whenever he came to the den, his chosen prey’s strangled cries always alerted nearby animals to go running. In winter, such conduct put the whole pack in danger of going hungry.

Despite that, it was only Scáthach who ever told him off, for there was no one else quite as strong as the large grey beast that was bestowed the honor of being their leader.

“You know what snow does to the rival packs, Cú,” hummed the wiser wolf as she circled the hubristic pup. She was never in favor of putting him in the lead just yet, but she had served her purpose, teaching him all that she knew. She didn’t doubt he had the prowess. He just lacked the responsibility.

“They have been seen closing in on our territory, now that prey runs scarce. You’ve been lucky, bringing in as much elk as you have thus far. But how will you maintain that while defending the territory, hm? Pull a miracle and find some loose sheep like you did last winter?”

Her pup-turned-leader snorted, shaking his snout as he stalked away. “This another attempt at getting me a mate, old hag?”

The she-wolf bared her teeth at the new alpha, batting his snout with her paw. “A mate shows power and longevity, you know this. Fionn may not have been the best father to you, but he brought you brothers and he brought you safety.”

“I ain’t taking Medb,” Cú snarled back, his fur standing on end at the thought. “So shove it. I’m heading out. Tell Ferdíad I can’t make it to game night.”

Without another word, the alpha wolf bounded off into the trees faster than the human eye could follow. He leapt past hills, his paws crunching snow beneath him, careless of the little prey that scuttled about. They were done with today’s hunt. Even Ferdíad's litter could go to sleep completely satisfied.

The wolf dodged through the thick vegetation mile after mile, until the paths he marked out for the younger wolves were no longer in sight. Although he doubted the den mother would approve of him going so far out into their territory alone, he was the alpha now. His decisions would no longer be questioned.

Finally, he came to a cave: an old abandoned bear den, that lesser beings avoided though its owner no longer lived there. His sharp ruby eyes darted to his surroundings, making sure he wasn’t followed. Then, he entered the den, as he had done several times before, and came out the cave’s other end.

Only Diarmuid knew about his hideout, and he’d like to keep it that way. As long as the beta kept this little secret within the pack territory, Cú could keep her safe.

The large canine made his way past a few evergreen trees ‘til the humble farm came into view. Sure enough, there she was in the middle of the fenced off enclosure, sitting amongst her sheep while the lambs fed on the last of the grass.

Here was Scáthach’s little “miracle”: a shepherd that had seen Cú’s starving figure at the edge of her farm last winter and purposely left her fence gate open. To this day, Cú still did not know why she did it, but her generosity got his entire pack through the harsh season.

In return, he’d secretly kept foxes and wild wolves off her farm, making sure the lesser beings knew better than to encroach on his personal territory.

At least, that’s what he did as a wolf.

Cú returned to his little cave, snarling as his fur receded into his skin. The alpha curled onto the ground, biting his own paw to stifle his groans as the bones within him shrank and contorted into a lesser form. His snout receded into a straight nose, his fangs into passably human sharp teeth. Without his night vision, Cú reached blindly for the small duffel bag tucked into a small hollow and pulled out an artificial coat and a pair of trousers.

What snuck out of the enclosure was no longer a grey apex predator, but a tall, muscled man with flowing dark hair: an ordinary hunter, no more special than the ones that frequented the northern town.

The bell chimed as he walked through the entrance, signalling the blonde shop owner of his arrival. Cú tried not to smile too widely as Arturia Pendragon popped her head through the staff door, but he knew that was a futile effort.

“Hey, shortie.”

“Good evening, Cú,” replied the woman, snorting at his favorite nickname for her as he hung his coat on the rack. “I have your usual ready...though I still cannot understand why you prefer coming here rather than the supermarket. You know Arthur takes our supply every Monday. He's down there with Arash the rest of the week. Isn’t that a little closer to home?”

Right. She still thought he lived in town. It was easier than saying he lived across the woods in a village even more secluded then hers which would be impossible to get to from here without a two hour drive unless you were a wolf that could cross the forest terrain in a fraction of time, so he didn’t correct her.

The Irishman shrugged and sank into the rug before the fireplace. “Mutton’s better fresh. 'Sides, the grocers don't stock your pies. Ya really should sell 'em, Arturia, I'm tellin' ya.”

The woman scoffed, lightly nudging her friend to the side with her foot. As he scooched over, she set down a food tray between them: one with two glasses of whiskey and two slices of pie.

"Flatterer," she accused, handing the bigger slice to Cú anyway. He wolfed it down in seconds.

The first time he showed up at her door went much the same way, just a lot more awkward.

It was the day after his wolf came home with her sheep. He'd already knocked on her door to thank her before realizing how stupid that idea was. What was he meant to say?

Hey, uh, thanks for letting me hunt your sheep to feed my pack. My best friend's wife just popped a litter of hungry babies, hehe gotta feed them young am I right? Oh, by the way, I'm the wolf from yesterday, nice to meet you—Yep. No. not gonna work. This was a terrible idea. Stupid, really. He was stupid. Why did he even come here again?

Then she swung open the door, freezing the man in place with his mouth half open.

"Can I help you?" She asked, but before he could even reply, he was greeted by snow. Everywhere. All at once. Down his spine and into his underwear.

Now, he wasn't as susceptible to the cold as the common human, but she did not know that. Before he could even get a word out, he was sitting in front of the fire to dry while she ran to get him something warm to drink.

A change into Arthur's clothes and some hot coffee later, he was being served pie at the dining table to make up for his unexpected snow shower.

"Again, I sincerely apologize for that. My brother and I haven't had the chance to fix the porch roof. We just moved to this old farm last month,” rambled the short Welsh woman as she handed him a hot towel.

After some hesitation and observation on the stranger’s way of dress, she asked, “Did...did you come here for lamb?"

Little did she know, she'd just handed Cú the perfect excuse. Plus, he now knew exactly how to show his gratitude.

"If I fix up yer roof would ya give me a discount?"

Over the next week, Cú would come to the Pendragon residence to make repairs. It wasn’t just the roof that needed patching up.

It turns out she and her brother were alone in the world, cheated out of their inheritance and everything else they owned by their older sister. All that was left to them was this old farm and cottage, which neither had visited since they were kids. Their half-sibling even threw in three truckloads of animals as a joke, since she had all the riches in the world to spend and a special budget for humiliating the two green-eyed blondes.

Still, the twins were educated. Brilliant, even. And though they were clumsy when it came to most household repairs, their experience tending equine stables for their late father translated rather well to animal husbandry. In a month, they had made enough to pay the bills and get them a secondhand laptop and working Wi-fi. The next month saw Arturia getting her own computer.

Half a year down the line, Cú was sure that the Pendragon siblings would move out, but here they stayed, still maintaining their humble farm though it was no longer their only form of income. Neither of them needed the burden of moving back to London, with its ridiculously high cost of living and impossible rent rates. They’d grown fond of the land they actually owned and its peace.

That suited Cú just fine, because he had grown fond of Arturia.

Cú still visited, even after all the repairs had finished. His nephews were always hungry, and while the mutton did not satisfy the little pups’ bloodlust as much as wild game, it made up for the deficit while the children were in human form. But even Arthur knew his bi-monthly purchases were just an excuse.

He was there for the coffees, for the brief moments his fingers would brush hers. He was there for the whiskey, the cheap bottles they shared before the fireplace while she told him everything she could about the city. He was there to make fun of her posh way of speaking, to pull the ribbon from her hair, to bring her fruits and berries and furs and let her read him books.

He was there for her.

Scáthach’s training only increased in intensity as the months passed, and between his day job and being the new alpha, Cú had little time left for himself. But what he could spare, he spent with his favorite person, even if it was just watching her tend her sheep from a distance while he kept foxes out of her territory.

Cú tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, happy to see she didn’t even flinch, but plagued by the thought of his wolf. He was the pack alpha now, and that meant a shitload of other responsibilities that would keep him from her for as long as he held that title.

“That’s all yer charging me, shortie? Nah, can’t be,” Cú resisted, pushing a few more bills across the table. “That’s way too cheap, even if yer sweet on me.”

Pink-faced, Arturia slid the packed meats back across the counter, reached behind her, and procured a carefully wrapped circular dish which she placed in a bag.

“Take it,” she insisted, hooking the bag onto his fingers. “We’ve been ridiculously lucky to not get any wolves and foxes considering how much higher into the mountains we live compared to the rest of the town. There is more than enough left for Arthur and I.”

Cú peeked into the extra bag, catching a glimpse of a familiar crust. God, she was far too kind. He’d reject the offer, but he’d always wanted to bring some shepherd’s pie back to the pack. This was his chance.

“Ya sure?”

“Absolutely,” she confirmed, holding open the front door as Cú made his exit. “This is the least I could do for you, Cú. You have helped make us feel home in this far-off place. I would even say that you are family but—”

“Go out with me,” the werewolf interrupted, shoving all his reservations into his internal dumpster. He didn’t know how yet, but he was gonna make this work. “Come on, I know ya like me, shortie.”

Tiptoeing, Arturia snaked a hand into his hair and pulled him down to her level, planting a small kiss on his cheekbone.

“It is...a little more than ‘like’, I believe,” the woman admitted bashfully, trying to mask her embarrassment by awkwardly sneaking back behind the door. “...Eight tomorrow?”

Cú bit his lip, glad to hear confirmation on what he already knew. She loved him back. She loved him back. God, he better not be looking like a child just handed some candy.

“Nah, this morning weekend. This weekend morning. The morning of this weekend,” he fumbled, rewarded with a short chuckle from her end. “I wanna have a whole day with ya for once, shortie. I’ll make it worth yer time.”

There was a spring in his step as the alpha bounded across the forest that night, carrying the bags carefully with the handles between his teeth.

If only he weren’t so distracted. Then he’d have noticed the salivating spy that watched him leave the abandoned bear den with a fresh pack of meat.

Snow fell heavily across the landscape on Tuesday evening, covering the last of autumn’s colors in a blanket of pure white. After dinner time was always idle for Cú, so he spent it sharing Arturia’s gift with the kids and spinning his phone in his fingers.

Instinct told him a storm was coming, and though it would probably have passed by Saturday, Cú wondered if he should try and reschedule his anticipated date. He wasn’t too worried about Arturia, since Arthur said he’d be coming back up to the cottage tonight, so at least she wouldn’t be alone all through it. Plus, the twins really did have a lot of food in stock. In comparison, he and his pack were the ones less prepared.

His sharp ears perked up as a familiar presence entered the grounds. The alpha’s brow knitted, as the slight smell of blood entered the air, but if the little ones weren’t alarmed, it must not have been such a serious wound.

Diarmuid stepped into the kitchen, still pulling on a wool jacket and shaking the snow off of his dark hair.

“Evening, Alpha,” the handsome man said softly, taking notice of the pie that sat in front of the pups.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, just call me Cú. Yer no less my little bro now than ya were before, Diar,” he corrected, sliding a plate his way. “Try that.”

The amber-eyed man approached the meal like a cat did water: hesitantly and suspiciously. Thankfully, as soon as he had a taste he had about the same reaction as Ferdiad’s kids did. Which was...basically nearly crying tears of joy.

“Where did you say you got this?” Diarmuid asked, snatching up another helping as Cú smirked. He’d not give the answer up that easily.

The alpha’s red eyes landed on his brother’s shoulder, finding a clumsy bandage just sticking out the collar. At once, he herded the beta into a different room, far enough from the pups that they couldn’t hear.

“The hell happened to ya?” Cú demanded, pulling the shirt collar to the side to better gauge the severity of the wound.

“It’s a warning, Sétanta” Scáthach answered for her son, entering the log cabin from the back door. “The rival packs were closing in on the border. I doubt their side of the mountain is as scarce as they make it out to be and yet they have the gall to encroach on ours.”

“Our territory’s guarded. That’s why we moved Fergus, ain’t it? To cover all bases. Den in the center with the pups, Me and Diar in the North, and dad in the South. Fergus’s gang to the west, and we got the town in the east and all wolves know not to mess with the towns,” Cú shot back, unconcerned.

Red eyes much alike to Cú’s observed him with kind care, seeing the wolf pup and alpha both. The new leader was strong, but he was arrogant. In a way, he was a perfect successor, for she knew he could kill her should the need arise. However, too loose he was with laws; too untethered by the rules that kept their kind safe.

“It would be a show of strength to take a mate. To let all know that our new Alpha has his right hand—”

Cú waved his arms dismissively. “The hands I do have are more than enough to drive them off. Ya know that. Now, are we stocking up for the pups or what? The storm ain’t gonna delay, I can smell it.”

22:24 Read

Cú paced the main den like a dog kept in an enclosure for far too long, tossing his half-charged phone while he awaited her message.

Four days. It had been four days since the blizzard started, piling snow on top of snow day after day as if it was trying to beat some arctic record. The log cabin’s ground floor was completely sealed in. They’d been on generator for the last four hours, listening to the weatherman on the radio as he promised for the third time that tonight the storm would finally pass.

Diarmuid was curling up with his nephews, keeping them warm in wolf form as they slept. Cú thanked every god he knew that they went on a hunt before the blizzard hit, else the kids went hungry. He and Diarmuid hadn’t planned to stay at their brother’s but the weather hardly gave them a choice. Their cottage was a lot further off.

22:24 Read

Cracks appeared on the glass as Cú glared into his mobile’s screen, hoping for some sort of change. But no. There sat the same exchange from an hour ago, the same bloody text just very loudly broadcasting to him the worst news of today.

One of our generators broke down. I need to move the power to the barn.

For real? Are you okay, shortie?

Arturia?

Hey, ya can’t just leave me hangin like that.

Arturia?

22:24 Read

“Sétanta, would you just put the bloody phone down?!” Ferdiad screeched, snatching the device right out of the alpha’s hands. “I said we were gonna talk, how the hell are we supposed to talk when yer not even givin’ me the bloody time of day!”

The low growl that escaped through the alpha’s bared teeth shook the cabin like an earthquake.

“What,” Cú barked, grabbing his precious device back while his brother stood his ground. “If this is just another lecture about how Scáthach was right, I should have just fucked with Medb and get it over with, I ain’t hearing another fucking word.”

22:24 Read

“No, you piece of—” Ferdiad inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring with frustration. The older man grabbed his brother by the shoulders, shaking him like a rattle. “Cú. Listen to me.”

As Diarmuid shushed them both, Ferdiad pointed outside, to where nothing could be seen but heavy white ice.

“Do you seriously think Scáthach wants you to mate that pink-haired priss? ‘Course not. She just needs ya to set down roots,” the delta wolf explained, looking over the alpha’s shoulder to his three sons. “You are the strongest of us, Cú, but nothing ties ya to this territory. For all the outsiders know you could be planning to move and make your own pack.”

The younger of them grimaced as Diarmuid nodded from his perch with the pups.

“I ain’t going nowhere,” the new alpha emphasized, shrugging out of his brother’s touch.

“Well they don’t know that! What if this whole time, the only reason they haven’t advanced is cause we’ve been keeping close watch on our borders, hm? Hell, you and Diar have basically been here the entire fucking week, they probably think you’ve bloody moved on. Wouldn’t surprise me in the least if they took advantage of this stupid storm to move into our territory, now that you’re not guarding the north!” Ferdiad argued, baring his fangs at his superior.

22:24 Read.

Cú’s heart stopped, the poor phone in his hands near crunching in his grip. No. The Pendragons didn’t live too far from the town. It was fine. She was fine. Just snowed in.

No werewolf was crazy enough to go near town in their canine form, not even the rival packs. There was too much risk of being found out. Simply no way.

Unless...

22:24 Read.

Unless they didn’t have any food in store. Unless they were looking for some easy pickings. Maybe a couple of sheep that wouldn’t be missed, stolen from a farm just a little out of range of the nearby village.

A farm with a single, vulnerable caretaker, forced to share a heater with her flock.

22:24 Read.

Cú frantically pressed the call button and put the phone to his ear, shushing Ferdiad before the delta could return to making his arguments. Three rings later and the line cut. He tried again, heart dropping like deadweight when it gave the same result.

His footsteps became panicked as he walked round in circles, scrolling upward to a contact that was here only for emergencies.

“Arthur,” Cú said through the phone, hearing the familiar voice of his blonde friend coming through the line. “‘S Arturia there with ya?”

Suddenly a quiet bang resounded throughout the room. A gunshot, deafened by distance and snow. Any false sense of security Cú still had shattered with the sound.

“The hell?” Ferdiad exclaimed, rushing towards his children to comfort them. “There can’t be any humans crazy enough to hunt in that storm.”

The alpha was no longer around to hear him.

Arturia never held any hate for her half-sister. Not even when she banned her and her twin to Ireland with nothing left to their name. Despite everything, Arturia thought her punishment was not too cruel, for she still had Arthur. She still had a degree under her belt, and in a way, Morgan had cast her far away from a destiny she didn’t even want to fulfil. Arthur never wanted to take over the mining company and neither did she.

The first few weeks were difficult, but they learned to live on their own. They made a humble world for themselves that wasn’t tied to their prestigious last name. It was simple. But it was good.

She’d admit it got a little lonely with just the two of them around, but...then there was Cú. Cú, who helped them fix up the house, who came bringing drinks or food they could all share by the fire. Cú, who helped them get set up at the market, who got them their regular buyers and still made himself a frequent customer. Cú, who made up excuses just to see her, who scorned the couch to lie down on her lap while she read.

The cabin was always a little warmer when he was around. It was home when he was around.

She should have asked him out sooner.

The wolves came crashing through the windows, raining thick glass all over her flock. There were seven of them. All massive beasts with fur of brown and grey, glowing eyes and bared fangs. In their view, she may as well have been just another sheep, helpless in the face of the predator.

The air was a cacophony of distressed bleating, panicked hooves and growls as the sheep tried their best to escape their fate. Amidst it were her own hoarse screams as a brown beast sank its fangs into her arms, her frantic kicks to its belly doing nothing to throw the large beast off. Desperate green eyes searched the floor for her gun, which sat useless under her first attacker, a chestnut wolf that had ignored smaller prey and gone straight for her.

Her own blood dripped down onto her cheeks as the wolf above her crushed her limbs between its teeth. Arturia’s eyes prickled with tears as fresh cries escaped her lips, grieving not from the pain but for all she was going to lose. So soon, she had to say goodbye to her new life, her brother, to any chance she ever had at a happy ending.

The woman felt her predator’s claw stomp onto her throat, stifling her screams as its teeth dug into her shoulder. Salt fell freely from her eyes as the beast tore through the muscle. Was this how she was going to die? Cold and alone amongst the carcasses of her flock? Was this how Arthur would find her when the blizzard did subside, torn to pieces and left scattered all over the barn floor?

Arturia shut her eyes, unwilling to let her last sight be that of her killer. Instead, she thought of Arthur, hoping someone would be there for him through it all. She thought of Cú, she thought of the lovely blue dress she was supposed to wear when she finally went out with him. She’d been waiting for the day to finally wear it. She knew he loved the color blue.

As her lungs began to burn for air, her final thought was a prayer to a God she didn’t know she still believed in. If she were to die today, then let it be the last pain her two favorite boys would ever experience—

Suddenly, frigid oxygen entered her lungs as her attacker was tackled off of her, leaving Arturia hacking and coughing as she gasped for breath. She sat up dizzily, gripping her injured shoulder with bleeding arms as she tried to get her bearings.

The pack had abandoned the few sheep that were left, hounding instead the new arrival: a wolf easily larger than her from head to tail, with grey fur that glistened in the little light. Its glowing red eyes seemed aflame with rage as it sank its teeth into her attacker’s throat and snapped its neck like a toothpick, showering all the surrounding dogs with their leader’s blood. Even then, the grey wolf did not stop, jumping at the next canine and carrying out its execution.

The woman limped to the exit as fast as she could, bracing herself against the biting cold as she made her way back to the cabin. Behind her, the barking continued as wolf fought against wolf, the red-eyed one beating off the remaining four while the frightened sheep ran wild with fear.

Arturia slammed the cabin door closed behind her, bolting every lock there was with frostbitten fingers before sneaking a glance back into the barn through the window. There was barely anything to make out amidst the pouring snow and the painful throbbing in her head, but all she knew was that somehow...the newcomer was winning.

She didn’t know what kind of divine intervention must have occurred for that wolf to come save her, but...all it did was buy her a little time. Even if she was safe from predators in the cabin, the freezing cold would take her before morning. Maybe she could start a fire, but she’d lost so much blood, she could barely even stand.

After much struggle to ignite the tinder, the injured woman slumped onto the rug before the fireplace, taking comfort in the hearth’s warmth as the blizzard raged on outside.

A loud crash brought her attention behind her, to where stood the red eyed wolf, blood staining the grey fur on his shoulder. Two emotions gripped her heart at the same time: fear and recognition. As the beast stalked its way toward her, she finally understood why he looked so familiar.

It was the young wolf from last year, the one who sat right outside her fence, neither coming in to attack her flock, nor fleeing at the sight of her. She’d always wondered what became of him after he ran off with a couple of her sheep. He had a lot more weight on him compared to back then, enough that she knew it was hopeless to try fighting him off. If he’d somehow defeated the entire pack in the barn, an injured human like herself didn’t stand a chance.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” she croaked, her shattered vocal chords barely able to keep up. “Please just make it quick.”

Almost as if he could understand her, the wolf whimpered and flattened his ears against his head, lowering himself as he approached.

For the second time that night, Arturia shut her eyes as the wolf caged her broken, shivering figure to the floor. She stiffened, anticipating another bite as he brought his head closer.

Then she felt a warm tongue lick her cheek.

Arturia’s eyes snapped open in surprise, locking with increasingly familiar ruby irises. The wolf lay its head on her chest, gently resting on top of her as it whimpered. Suddenly, it began to whine, jerking back and forth as its body contorted itself into a different shape. One that was smaller, one that hadn’t a silver coat of fur, one that no longer crushed her underneath its weight.

Soon it wasn’t a wolf at all that Arturia held in her arms, but a man. Large hands that she recognized traveled up to her cheeks, his thumbs stroking away her tears. Her heart warred with itself, overtaken by pain, relief, fear, security. But all of that could wait.

Cú leaned forward til he was kissing her, molding his mouth into hers til he had her lips memorized.

“Cú,” Arturia whispered, when they separated to breathe, her injured arms wearily looping around his neck. “You’re…”

“Sorry,” The man shushed her with another deep kiss, enveloping her shivering figure into his embrace. “I didn’t wanna tell you like this, but I have no choice. I’m—”

“The wolf from last winter,” she interrupted, her mind struggling to put together the pieces. “The…wolf who came to save me. You were here with me this whole tim—mmh”

The man’s fingers snaked behind her head, supporting her as tasted her mouth once more.

“Ya saved me first.”

There was a desperation in the way that he moved, the way he touched her cold skin. He didn’t want it to be like this. He wished their first kiss would have been somewhere warm. He wanted to take her out to the lake, hold her hand…not drag her into his world of hunt-or-be-hunted.

Cú pressed his lips to her neck, regretting the multitude of wounds she sustained there. If only he were here earlier. If only he were faster. This would never have happened if wasn’t so damn careless.

The werewolf pulled down her scarf and jacket, exposing the deep wounds the rival pack leader had left at the junction of her shoulder and all over her arms.

They bit her.

Cú pursed his lips, placing a few more kisses to her temple. He hoped it would be enough. He hoped she would understand his feelings for her. He hoped she would forgive him.

“Let’s get ya patched up, shortie, okay?”

Cú borrowed some of Arthur’s clothes for the second time, leaving her momentarily to redirect the power back to the cottage instead of the barn. There were nothing but carcasses to warm over there now. After that, he no longer left her side, nursing her wounds the best that he could and keeping her close to share his body heat.

“You’re gonna turn,” Cú said seriously, hugging the one person he loved more than anything to his chest. Werewolf saliva was powerful, and so their kind never endeavored to sink their teeth into humans unless they were sure to kill the target or intentionally make them part of their pack.

“How soon?” Arturia answered back, turning to look up at her saviour. All the fear in her eyes had disappeared, replaced with melancholy and trust. Of course she was upset. Creatures of his world had just gone and stolen her new life away.

“The next full moon,” Cú answered regretfully, “Tomorrow night.”

Cú brushed her bangs out of her face, letting his ruby eyes clash with her emeralds. “Ya scared?”

The man didn’t even know why he was asking. But what were you supposed to say to someone who was just dragged into a hidden world she knew nothing about? How was he supposed to tell her she’d be riddled with bloodlust for the rest of her life, that she’d crave the hunt, that she’d yearn for the night? How was he supposed to tell her she had to give up the one family she had left to keep him away from the life of a hunter?

“Should I be?” Arturia answered, deceptively calm. No doubt, she was thinking of the heavy price she had to pay for surviving.

Cú knew Scáthach was coming. He could feel it. As soon as this bloody storm let up, the she-wolf would put her nose to the air, track him down to this cottage, and put down the rival pack’s unintentional new member before she even had the chance to morph.

Not if he could help it.

“Ya said l was like family to you, Arturia, did ya mean it?” he asked, his heart racing like crazy. His favorite person nodded into his chest, fiddling with his fingers and palm.

“Then...d’ya wanna be that to me, forever though?” he stuttered out, suddenly losing all manner of confidence.

Arturia got up to face him. “How do you mean?”

“Damn yer really gonna let me get into the specifics, huh? Right,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head despite himself. “Look, for us, there’s just one. One mate, for the rest of our lives. You just feel this...bond with them, ya know? Strong enough ya can’t bear to be without them. If ya let me, I want you to be that for me."

"Cú, are you asking me to wed you?" she asked back, confusion settling in the crease between her brows. "But we haven't even gone out yet—"

"Ya were gonna marry me eventually," he shot back, flicking the hair outta her face. "I'm quite the husband material, dontcha think? I bring ya food, I eat your pie—my family likes them by the way—I'm handsome as fuck, not ta mention, charming, what’s the harm in speeding things up a lil’?"

The werewolf grinned at her, trying to cover up how bloody nervous he actually felt.

“And also my pack won’t kill ya. Cause you know, technically ya belong to the rival pack, because they’re the ones that bit ya. But also yer all that’s left in that pack, after tonight and…” he paused, cupping her face with his hands, “I'll still court you, 'Turia. I want to. I'll give ya a good life. Swear.”

Arturia’s lips quirked upward for a second, knowing how crazy adamant Cú could be with following promises.

"Alright,” she confirmed, accepting his kiss. “I just...I worry about Arthur."

"So you finally show up, hm? Disappear for a while, why don't you? Doesn't matter whether or not the rival pack comes to—"

Scáthach inhaled, sniffing her grey wolf pup as she circled him. Something had changed about her son, she could feel it.

"There is no rival pack," Cú answered, grinning like a madman. “Only two new additions to ours.”

"What?"

“Last winter, it stormed just like this, didn’t it? No game, not even the smallest of hares. We were considering crossing over to the other side of the mountain, yeah?” Cú asked back, eagerly goading out the she-wolf’s response. Scáthach stared at him intensely, her red eyes glowing in the light of the full moon.

“You came back with sheep—”

The grey wolf nodded its head in a near-human fashion.”They were gifts. From them.”

Cú yipped, calling for the two concealed wolves to come into the den.

One was large and long, with fur as black as the bark of trees. He came out of the woods like a moving shadow, paws of coal shuffling through the snow. Even Scáthach, who was a midnight color herself, thought she was looking straight into a beautiful void.

The second wolf was smaller. She had a pelt of pure shining white, purer even than fresh snowfall. If not for the black nose that nuzzled into their alpha as she came close, she would be completely missable in their landscape of ice.Though of shorter stature, she strode like a king. Scáthach hadn’t a doubt that if this newcomer were born a wolf, she’d be an alpha herself without question.

The two newcomers stared at the she-wolf with matching emerald eyes, each set of orbs sparkling with the colors of the aurora. Siblings. Strong ones. But any wolf could tell these two were not born with beast’s blood like the rest of them, their footsteps were too unnatural. Too clumsy. They were made beasts, and by their scent it had been the doing of the rival pack.

As her son pressed his snout to the white wolf’s nose, several things finally clicked into place. Cú had gone and done what she’d been pestering him to do for the last few months and had eliminated the pack that had been encroaching on their territory in one fell swoop.

Cú had chosen his mate: a human convert who’d inherited their rivals’ land the day she was bitten. A human who they just so happened to owe a great debt for getting them through last year’s winter.

As Cú’s beastly eyes stared her down, Scáthach had to admit... her bratty pup finally had her at a total loss. She couldn’t be mad about anything, couldn’t even nitpick at the tiny size of his chosen queen or her tar-coat brother. Gosh, Fionn was gonna get a lotta kicks outta this.

“Names,” the she-wolf demanded, circling the twins while Cú gave her a shit-eating grin. Then, she turned, looking back just once to signal for them to follow.

Side by side, the new wolves and the alpha made their way into the central den. Arthur was immediately swarmed by Cú’s brothers. Arturia, by Ferdiad’s pups.

Later, when all had settled back into human skin and a fresh change of clothes, Cú looked about his pack. Fergus and Medb had come to visit, with all sorts of food in tow. Diarmuid excitedly showed Arthur around the wolf den while Fionn and Scathach kept to their own corner. Ferdiad and his litter sat right in front of the brick oven, eagerly awaiting the shepherd’s pie the twins had prepared.

The alpha leaned down, resting his cheek atop Arturia’s blonde head.

“We never did get to go on that date,” she whispered lightheartedly, leaning her head onto his chest. “I even had a dress prepared.”

“Mmmmm that so?” Cú shot back, grinning, “I just think since we are “mated” we really ought to get to mating if ya know what I—”

Arturia’s palm snapped onto his lips before he could complete the thought. Suddenly, they were wrestling each other to the floor, the older wolf chuckling like a madman all the while.

“Kidding—ooofghmhm--kidding, Arturia, I’m kidding, jeez,” he managed to get out, placating his blushing mate as he grabbed onto her hands. The Welsh woman panted, from her seat atop him, her green eyes looking everywhere else but into his red orbs.

“Eight tomorrow?” Arturia asked, though she knew full well Cú was coming home with her that day.

Not even caring about the teasing whoops resounding through the wolf den, Cú pulled his mate down for another hug.

“Yeah. I’d like that, shortie.”

[elisaphoenix13]

Celebration Of Mama Bear

A fic for Stephen's birthday (yes I know it's late)! This also takes place before Lucy!

"Buongiorno, duchessa." Tony mumbles against Stephen's lips when he bends down to kiss him.

"Tony, it's too early for this." Stephen weakly bats in his direction without opening his eyes. "I can already hear things crashing and I'm not ready to deal with that."

Tony chuckles. "Not crashing, I promise. The kids are making breakfast."

Stephen cracks an eye open and looks at him suspiciously. "Which ones?"

"Harley and Cassie."

"Thank the Vishanti." Stephen mumbles.

There's a brief pitter patter of feet outside their open door and both Valerie and William appear in the doorway. The teen was behind the little girl who was holding her stuffed cow in one of her arms. Her eyes glittered in excitement and had Stephen opening his other eye before sitting up. Well he attempted to, but Athena was currently laying half of her body across his chest.

"Mama, i pancake sono pronti!" Valerie says and Stephen looks back at Tony.

"Of course she's speaking Italian at two."

"What can I say? Our children are geniuses." Tony shrugs. "Now get up before I have a certain 600 pound cat come lay on top of you."

Stephen rolls his eyes but gets out of bed after quietly commanding Athena off of him. Tony stood up and directed the two kids back downstairs while Stephen got ready for the day, and Athena waited patiently by the door like she always did. Whenever Tony got out of bed first, which was a rare occasion, the wolf would replace him as Stephen's cuddle buddy. Especially whenever the sorcerer was sick. He had grown so accustomed to cuddling (courtesy of Peter), that it felt wrong not to wrap himself around someone when he was ill. It was usually Tony or Athena, with the occasion of Peter or Harley.

Harley wasn't much of a cuddler but he would put up with it just to help Stephen feel a little better. At least until someone could take his place. The twins...they were still a little unsure of the physical contact but they were slowly growing to love it. Diana and Valerie were not allowed because Stephen didn't want to risk spreading whatever he was sick with to them. Valerie was pretty grumpy whenever Mommy got sick but she still behaved for her father and siblings.

"Why don't you go check and make sure Gerald has been fed?" Stephen says as he opens a portal for Athena.

She immediately hops through and he watches as a second one opens to let Emir and Flynn through. The tiger was, of course, carrying the fox by his scruff and only put him down once they were safely through. Stephen left the portals open so the animals could get back when they were finished, and leaves the room once he's dressed for the day.

When he gets down to the kitchen, he finds it and his family in chaos. A pleasant chaos. The air was filled with their constant chatter and the smell of food, and there was a lot of it. Pancakes, sausages, eggs, bacon, fruit... anything and everything was spread out on the counter and the table.

"What's all this?" He asks as he grabs a piece of bacon.

"Birthday breakfast." Thomas says as he gently pushes Stephen over to his chair.

"You didn't have to do any of this." Stephen huffs fondly as he sits down.

"Of course we did. You always take care of us and make sure we have our own awesome birthdays, and now it's our turn to do it for you." Peter says. "There's a whole day planned for you."

"If any magical emergencies come up, Wong will take care of it today." Tony adds.

Stephen couldn't even respond before a full plate of breakfast was placed in front of him and Cassie kissed his cheek. He thanked her and started eating as the rest of them sat down with their own plates, and of course their meal was consumed quickly. It was normal for them. There was always plenty of food but it always felt like the kids were arguing over food anyway. At least it was over their favorites.

When Stephen got up to take his plate to the sink, Peter hopped out of his seat and took it from him. "I got it! You go relax!"

Relax? That hadn't been in his vocabulary for years. Especially now that he had six kids...and that wasn't even including Cassie. He did sit down on the couch though and was joined by Athena who had returned through the portal after he had finished eating. He turned on the TV and pet her head when she laid it in his lap, and enjoyed not having to worry about cleaning up. He didn't have to cook, and he didn't have to clean...it made him wonder what they had planned for him.

When Tony was finished eating dinner and he made sure the girls were okay with the older kids, he walked over to Stephen and led him back upstairs. Instead of asking him what he was doing, he waited and let himself be led up to their bathroom and over to their large tub. Tony personally leaned over to run the bath and Stephen raised an eyebrow when he pulled a box of rose petals out of nowhere.

"Tony-"

"Don't argue. Let me pamper you." He says as he adds the petals to the water.

Stephen had to admit that the smell was nice, and having his husband help him undress was even nicer. The second he was in the bath, he sank down a bit with a pleased groan as the hot water relaxed the muscles he didn't even know were stiff and Tony chuckles.

"How's that?"

"This should be a weekly thing," Stephen sighs.

"We have six kids and a handful of Avengers. Maybe monthly."

"Better than nothing."

Tony smiles. "You soak and relax, I'm about to make this even better."

"Mmm...okay."

Stephen sunk down further into the water until all but his head was submerged. The tub was large enough for that and even almost stretch out completely. The tub was so big that he was pretty sure Quill and Thor could submerge completely. By the time Tony got back, he laughed and sat on the small stool he dragged next to the tub.

"Duchess, if you sink any lower, you might drown." He chuckles again and sets a flat box on the edge on the tub.

Stephen knew exactly what it contained before his husband even opened it. Dark chocolate truffles. If he was right, they were at room temperature so that the middle was almost liquid and would melt the second it hit his tongue.

"Is it my birthday or is this foreplay?" Stephen asks as he sits up a little to grab one.

"Maybe both. Up to you." Tony teases.

"Maybe tonight before the day is over and our youngest absolutely needs my attention." The doctor purrs before popping a truffle in his mouth.

He wasn't really one to take baths, but this one was amazing. Tony made sure it remained uninterrupted so that Stephen could properly relax and the sorcerer was almost tempted to ask for a glass of wine. Almost. It was still a little too early for a glass of wine, even on his birthday. He enjoyed the remaining flowery smell from the petals and finished off half his box of truffles before he was done in the bath. When he told Tony, the other man got him his towel and led him to their bed.

"Keep the towel on and lay face down."

Stephen didn't question it and did as he was told. At least at first. Then the thought that Tony might want to give him a massage struck him. The older man wasn't really capable of giving him one with his bad arm. At least not a proper one.

"Tony, I don't want you hurting yourself to give me a day of pampering." Stephen frowns and starts to lift himself up, but Tony pushes him back down.

"Relax. I love you and as much as I would like to give you a massage myself, I know I can't. Besides, I wouldn't have had you keep the towel on if I was going to be the one doing it." He walks over to the door and opens it to let Wanda in. "Red is going to do it. With oils and everything."

"Not Scott?" Stephen jokes.

"You two do enough together when I'm not home. I'm not giving him oil."

Stephen laughs and then settles to let Wanda start the massage when Tony leaves to do whatever it was he needed to do to make sure the day went off without a hitch. The witch gave him such an amazing massage that Stephen dozed halfway through it. She found knots he didn't even know he had and worked them over gently until he was putty under her hands. From his shoulders down to his feet...and he almost moaned when she got to his feet. Now he understood why people were so infatuated with foot massages.

When she was finally done, she smiled. "How was that?" She asks in her Sokovian accent.

"Don't be surprised if I call you up in the future." Stephen says.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

The doctor laid there as she gathered her oils and left the room, and it didn't take long for Tony to return. His husband wordlessly grabbed a hot, wet washcloth and walked over to the bed to wipe the oil off of Stephen and at that point, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to get his body to function. He couldn't recall the last time he was this relaxed...if he ever was.

"If this was all you had planned for today, I wouldn't have any complaints." Stephen admits.

"Oh no, honey. We have dinner reservations at that Italian restaurant you like. But for now, how about you watch a couple of movies and snack on some fancy cheese and crackers until then?"

"Send my wolf up and I think I can manage that."

"Your wish is my command."

Tony tossed the washcloth into the bathroom and left the bedroom after whistling for Athena, and Stephen makes the small effort to roll onto his side when the wolf jumps onto the bed and lays next to him obediently.

"Hello there pretty girl." Stephen mutters as he pets her.

He then requested Friday to put on one of his favorite movies and he lounged under a single bed sheet (to cover his modesty just in case) to watch it. Tony brought him the promised cheese and crackers to snack on, and Stephen enjoyed the calm. A small part of him wanted his kids with him, but a bigger part won over and made him enjoy this. He knew it was rare to get a day like this so he ignored the tiny nagging feeling to have his kids be part of his day. They made plans for him and he didn't want them to go to waste, especially since he could trust the older kids to behave for a day and help with their sisters.

When five o'clock rolled around, Tony popped back into the bedroom and walked straight into their closet to pull out their dining suits. Fortunately, Stephen felt like most of his basic motor functions were back and was able to get up and get dressed and he once again emerged from the master bedroom when they were ready. Athena was told to stay with the kids, and then they were in the elevator on their way to the garage.

"How was your day so far?" Tony asks as he wraps an arm around Stephen's waist and kisses his temple.

"I don't think I've ever been so relaxed in my entire life." Stephen chuckles.

"Don't worry. I'll get you nice and wound up for when we get home and the cubs are in bed." The engineer chuckles.

A frown does briefly cross the doctor's face and Tony gives him a look.

"What? Why the look?"

"Sometimes I worry that me not aging anymore will get to you." Stephen admits.

Tony snorts. "Shouldn't I be the one worrying about that? Besides…" he smiles and rubs his thumb against a sharp cheekbone. "Don't think I haven't noticed the slight change in my wrinkles...the ones I don't have anymore."

Stephen winces. "It's not immortality or anything like that. I just...stopped your aging. The physical part anyway. You asked me not to do to you what I did to myself, but I can't do what Quill can for Scott-"

"Duchess...I'm not mad. It's fine." Tony kisses him. "It has helped me ignore our age difference when we both don't age a day. I'm pretty sure it helps with my libido." He then narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Unless you have a hand in that too."

Stephen actually laughs. "No. You're healthy libido is all you. I see no need for Viagra in our future."

"Don't even joke about that." Tony sighs dramatically. "If for some reason I can never get it up again, please put me out of my misery. I do actually like being able to make you scream."

"I do too." Stephen purrs.

And true to Tony's promise, he got Stephen so riled up at dinner, that when they got back home and the kids were asleep, he made sure the sorcerer couldn't walk the next morning. Stephen could barely talk...and it was one of the best birthdays he'd ever had.

[full-hd-sun]

Instagram algorithms

Pairing:

Johnny/Ten

Warnings and genres:

Romantic Fluff, Happy Ending, Strangers to Lovers, Idols, Attempt at Humor, Dancer Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten

Summary:

They say, "Never say never." In an instant - you don't even think about dancing and it's annoys you, but in another moment - you are ready to make a room with a pole in your future apartment, so that "he" dances only for you.

     - By today, the shooting of the video is over! Thank you all for the work done, everyone is free! - said the director, and the guys could finally exhale. The staff collected the decorations, and the guys went to the dressing rooms. They had ten minutes to change - a car was already waiting for them on the street to take them to the dorm.

Johnny was sorry to part with his clothes for filming, because he really loved the style that the stylists chose for him. When he went to the store himself, he could choose clothes like a bum-style type, which upset him. While Johnny was changing, he had the thought that now he would have to return to his empty dorm room, where no one was waiting for him, and the second part of the bed was cold and not warmed by anyone’s body.

He had a neighbor named Taeyong, but the next week he is going to move to his boyfriend Jaehyun’s, so they would leave him all alone in the room. Sometimes he was so jealous of them. Johnny also wanted to have someone who could lie on top, and he would bury his fingers in the hair of this “someone”, which are still a little damp after a shower, and would exchange soft kisses with him, talking about something of theirs, secret.

And so the group was standing by the car. While the guys getting into the car, Johnny tried to order food delivery, because he is exhausted. He take a seat next to Mark, and they started discussing the filming and remembered how Jaehyun blushed when they forced him to shoot a video with the tackle phrase “Jeogiyo nuna hokshi namjachingu isseoyo”. After hearing it, Yoonoh blushed again and hid behind Taeyong’s back, who responded by gently stroking his head.

While they had such conversations, they quickly got to dorm, and fled to their rooms, because everyone wanted to wash finally off the makeup that irritated the skin. Taeyong took the bathroom, and Johnny cheered himself up and go to Instagram, while waiting for a friend to free room. Since he is a great connoisseur of high-quality photos, he follows many photographers and on average he spent four hours a day on Instagram.

      - This is outstanding ... Taeyong, come here! Look what a gorgeous shot! I’m crazy about this photographer! - Johnny yelled while lifting his phone into the air.

      - You say that about every photographer you follow, - Tae replied trying not to move his facial muscles to keep the mask from slipping. - And if it’s an animal on the photo ... - he did not have time to finish the sentence, because Johnny poked him with his phone almost in the face.

    �� - Just look! What color correction, what kind of exposure, and how well the background is visible, which does not distract from the foreground. Everything is harmonious as hell! - Suh shakes his phone. - I won’t find content on Instagram better than animals or professional photography, - Johnny switched to the recommendations feed.

      - I wouldn’t be so sure. I also thought so before, but you know, Instagram recommendations can throw something interesting. I’ve found so many edits made by our fans. When I’m not in the mood, they amuse me, - replied Lee, removing the mask and smearing the remnants of it on his neck with thin fingers.

      - Well, yes, artificial intelligence does not stand still, but it will definitely not be cooler than well-taken photographs or animals. - said Johnny, accidentally clicking on the first post in the recommendations.

The video showed a guy was on his knees and pressed his buttocks to the pole. When the calm music began, he threw one hand on the pole, and the other temptingly ran over the body. Then he spread his knees to the sides, grabbed the pole with both hands and turned over in the air, as if this did not require special strength, standing on his right leg, and wrapping his left leg around the pole. All his movements were smooth and calm, like a surface of a sea on an early sunny morning. The video was short, but Johnny seems to have spent a lot more watching, and Taeyong pulled him out of the trance by snapping his fingers to his ear.

      - Hey, I told you here how the guys and I spent the weekend, and you didn’t even hummed. You seem to have seen a new photo there that fascinated you? - said Lee and tried to look at the elder’s phone, but last quickly blocked it.

      - No, I thought about the upcoming photo sessions. Again, so many things will have to be applied, the hair will be torment ... - Johnny tried to redirect topic in another side, because he knew that Lee was a fan of crying about transformations during each comeback and how he fed up with everything.

      - Oh yes, this is awfull. They will paint me in long-ass colour again and dress something on me, like in Fire Truck’s era ... - Taeyong complained.

_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ -_- _-_- _-_- _-_- _-_- _-_- _-_- _-_- 

Several weeks after that video, Johnny followed actively that dancer. His name was Ten, and it turned out that he danced not only on the pole but also hip-hop, traditional Chinese dances, and even ballet ... Of course, pole dancing received the most views and admired comments. Suh watched and commented on all Ten’s videos, were on all the lives and tried to memorize every guy’s emotion.

- So, we have everybody here broken down by parts, so while the rap-line is being recorded, the vocals can have some rest. You can go take a coffee, - said the record director and disappeared into the studio with Mark and Taeyong.

Jungwoo promised that he would stay at the studio and write to the American in case of anything, so Johnny went to the cafe downstairs for calm breakfast with meringues and coffee.

He felt like a teenager when he thought about how to get attention from this handsome guy dancer. At first Johnny thought about writing Ten in direct, but he probably already has a lot of fans, so Johnny’s message will just get lost among a bunch of others. Then he thought to invite Ten as a backing dancer to their video, but they already had enough people, and then Suh thought if he received such an offer, he would definitely block this person. Therefore, Johnny was waiting for an opportunity to drive up to the guy as invisibly as possible.

Suddenly, a notification came that Ten had a new post. Opening it, Johnny flew out of this world altogether: in the video, Ten, slightly sag in the back, leaning on the pole only with his shoulder blades, but what Suh paid all his attention to was that the dancer was on high heels. Rather rhythmic music played, but Ten hit the beat with every particle of his body, captivating the American’s mind. He arching as if his bones were made from gelatin. Ten playfully shot his eyes into the lens, and Johnny felt like these eyes were hitting into his heart. Eagerly absorbing every movement, repeating Ten’s emotions on his face. When the dance ended, Ten found himself in the same position as in the beginning.

Johnny really regretted that he didn’t smoke, otherwise he would have smoked a whole pack. So he took a cup of Americano brought by the server and drank it all in a few sips. Johnny just forgot how to breathe. Previously, he did not notice a special love for dancing, especially the pole, he just did not understand the meaning. And now he is ready to find out the address of the studio where Ten dances, and even if this is some god-choked club somewhere on the edge of the city - Johnny is ready to come there and watch the guy dances, and then come to the hostel and will fantasize, remembering his cunning, fox gaze and light movements. Although somewhere deep in his soul he wanted Ten to dance only for him. Johnny was even ready to give him a room in his future apartment where Ten would dance only for him.

From such thoughts the blood rushed to the right place, but Johnny had no time to go to relax - he saw a message from Jungwoo: he wrote that it was time for them to go recording. So he quickly finished eating the meringue and having paid, ran up the stairs.

-_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- -_- - -

The guys were exhausted: they had a promotion for the “Cherry Bomb” tour, and the last city they sang was Seoul. Before the concert there were three days off, the group divided into units: one unit slept all day, got up to eat in the evening, and went to bed again, and the second unit just played games all day, ate a lot and lay in bed, conducting live.

The time was approaching midnight, when Johnny tired of watching YouTube, so he remembered about Ten’s Instagram. When he opened the application, he immediately saw a post about Lulu, a cute short-legged cat, very popular on YouTube, who also had a “brother”. It was a short video of Lulu trying to steal a piece of cake from the hostess. This made Johnny uwu-face and flipped down the page, bumping into Ten’s post. It said that they were recruiting for a pole dancing group.

At first Johnny lit up with joy, as this is a great opportunity to roll up to the guy and pull him into his net. But he is an idol, the day after tomorrow is a concert, he needs to rest ... He weighed the pros and cons for a very long time and finally went to Taeyong, who probably did not sleep because he is working on the lyrics of a new song.

Johnny tapped his knuckles gently on the wooden door. After a couple of seconds, he heard Tae’s stomping outside the door and a tousled head appeared from there with glasses slipping to the tip of his nose.

- Oh Johnny, it’s you. Come in, just try as quietly as possible - Jae-na fall asleep, he was spinning for a long time and could not sleep, - Lee whispered, opening the door wider and letting in the guest.

Suh sat down on Taeyong’s bed and wondered how to tell properly his friend about the situation, and decided that it would be better to dump everything on a clean one.

- Taeyong, I just decided ... I want to go pole dancing. What do you think about it? Johnny asked, looking up hesitantly at Lee, who was intently crossing out individual lines of the song in his notebook. He was not even surprised at this question and just asked.

-And who is this lucky guy that you want to attract? - with a slight grin on his face.

Johnny at first did not understand what the guy was driving at, and told that he had read somewhere there that it is useful for physical fitness, like you won’t be a jerk, but your hands will be strong. And then he realized, so he ran his eyes around the room, trying not to show it.

- In what sense of “lucky-guy”? I just decided for myself. I saw one guy dancing ... - Suh started talking, but was interrupted by Lee, who finished the sentence in his place.

- And you conquered him with your skills, am I right? Taeyong finally raised his head and turned sideways to his friend.

Johnny’s face was full of emotion, but the first thing Taeyong saw was embarrassment. He hit the mark.

- But how did you guess? - the American rubbed the tips of his ears.

- Well, first - you were never very interested in dancing at rehearsals, I never saw yours much zeal to dancing. Second, - Tae bent his second finger, turning his back to Johnny and recording something, - everyone has noticed for a long time that you spend a lot of time on the phone watching videos of some dancer on repeat. And our Doyoung, like a bloodhound dog, found him in your subscriptions and we also watched all of his videos. You have a good taste for guys, Johnny-hyung, - said Taeyong mockingly, making the elder blush even more and stare at the floor, - Well, third, even though you wear oversized clothes, yours “daddy” is all it is equally visible and he gives you up with giblets.

Johnny reflexively grabbed onto the aforementioned spot, covering it up, making Taeyong burst out laughing.

- But how did you all know? Johnny asked to deflect the subject from such an awkward moment.

- Well at least that you look hilarious when you watch him dancing and try to copy his facial expressions. And also, when you were dancing in the training hall with headphones on, I could admire how you tried to sit on the splits and your pants were torn right in the middle. - Lee could no longer restrain himself and burst into soundless laughter.

Johnny would fall through the floor if he found out that this shame was seen by someone else, but he can trust Lee, so they laughed, but not loudly, as Yoonoh tossed and turn in his sleep and Taeyong left to calm him down and sang him a song.

Johnny continued to sit on the edge of the bed, face propped in his hands, and watched about the couple. They were insanely cute: Jaehyun would often massage Taeyong’s back and legs on set because the latter was training too hard and was exhausted, and Yoonoh also brought food for Lee because Taeyong usually forgot to eat during day and then ate so much before going to bed and half of the night turning from side to side. Taeyong always asked everyone to be quiet in the car when Jaehyun fell asleep on his shoulder or lap; they were at the gunpoint of the cameras and behaved cautiously, no one could say that they were meeting, but the tenderness that they gave to each other was in the air and encouraged others to meet the soul mate, for whom they would want to move mountains. If they fought, then at most they could not talk for half an hour, one of them always came to another and childishly held out his little finger with the words “Make friends, make friends, Never, never break friends, if you do - You’ll catch the flu, And that will be the end of you”, and in the morning Mark and Donghyuck, who live next door, complained of banging on the wall and low sighs.

Johnny took a deep breath because he wasn’t sure guys like Ten needed a relationship. He seems to be married to the gym and pole. Meanwhile, Lee calmed Jung down and returned to the chair. Johnny looked up and asked hesitantly.

      - Well, since you already know everything about this, then ... Should I try?

Taeyong was silent for a minute, and then he spoke.

      - I think yes. It will be very difficult for you, but I am confident in you like in no one else.

      - To be honest, I’m terrified. I’ll be like a cow on ice ...

      - Love overpowers fear, - Taeyong whispered mysteriously and returned to his notes.

But really, what would he lose if he just tried? Yes, he will look ridiculous trying to climb the pole, but isn’t it worth it to make Ten laugh and cheer him up? When Doyoung was sad before the vlive, Johnny made him laugh in more ridiculous ways, and nothing, no one stopped loving him less because of this. Johnny decided that he should justify the feelings that arose in him six months ago, and he would rather get a refusal now than continue to sigh mindlessly for this guy.

      - You’re right, - Johnny whispered sharply and frightened Taeyong, who had already forgotten that Suh is still here, - I’ll take this first step towards winning the dancer’s heart, and either I’ll be refused, or I can bathe in his love.

＼（Ｔ∇Ｔ）／ ＼（Ｔ∇Ｔ）／ ＼（Ｔ∇Ｔ）／

After speaking a little more with Tae and finally dispelling his indecision, Johnny returned to his room. Now he had to write to Ten about his desire to dance, but it was not as easy as he imagined. He could only hope that his message would not get lost among others. He opened a direct with Ten.

Hello! Saw yours last post about recruiting a pole dance group. Are there still free positions?

He wrote this with shaking hands, but was very glad that he dared to take such a step. Deciding to distract himself from waiting of the dancers answer, Suh turned on video. It was fourteen minutes to three o’clock in the morning when Johnny received an Instagram alert on his phone.

Hi Hi. Just in time for the last. When will it be convenient for you to come?

The American was as delighted with the message as the schoolgirl to whom her love was answered. He wanted to squeak, but remembered in time that it was now like night. So Johnny buried himself in the pillow and muttered something joyful in his own way and then exhaled deeply. For a long time he could not leave the message read.

I don’t know yet, because I have a work, but I would like to get to your group.

Johnny wrote to Ten, hit the send button and immediately fall asleep.

In the morning his message was read, but with no response. Johnny imagined thousand and one reasons of his stupidness and was already ready to cry in Taeyong’s shoulder but he was stopped by Mark, who pleased the older one to reconcile him with Donghyuck, because he accidentally deleted a game from theirs computer because of lack of memory, and now the youngest was mortally offended by him. During lunch and Johnny did not touch the phone again. And only when they went to their rooms, Johnny finally remembered the correspondence.

He had never run to the phone so quickly. Grabbing it, Johnny sighed with relief: Ten answered. He did not dare to open the message for a long time, fearing rejection, but then he remembered Taeyong’s words and said “Well, no matter what, i open” and read the message.

If you want, you can come to the introductory lesson tomorrow at twenty minutes to three in the afternoon.

Johnny could not believe his happiness: tomorrow he will see this charm boy live and that is why he became strange, because after that he happily jogged in the room and shouted - Who is sexy Frau? I am sexy Frau!!, without even thinking - Frau is a woman, but he can say so, he has such an event. He picked up the phone and wrote a message:

Oh, sure. What should I take with me?

The answer came quickly, as if Ten were expecting his message:

Yourself.

Johnny wondered if either Ten was as weird as he was, or that the message was not meant for him. But he decided not to upset himself and just hugged the phone, imagining tomorrow.

＼（Ｔ∇Ｔ）／ ＼（Ｔ∇Ｔ）／ ＼（Ｔ∇Ｔ）／

Arriving at the address showed by Ten, Johnny doubted for a very long time: was this message really was intended for him? Maybe Ten is expecting to see someone another. In moments like this, Suh forgets that he is an idol. He sat down on the sofa in the hall and waited.

Johnny was drawn from his thoughts by a human shadow blocking the light in front of him. He looked up and gasped - it was Ten who smiled to him. Johnny sat with his mouth open, and Ten realized how much he impressed Suh - he silently pulled Johnny with him. As the man stood up and followed the dancer, he noticed his height advantage and noted the strength with which Ten was pulling him forward.

They didn’t walk long, but during that time Johnny had time to study him: he had beautifully tousled silver hair, he was wearing a big loose T-shirt and sweatpants, and he smelled a mix of a little sweat and fresh mint. Johnny was so shocked to be so close to Ten that he didn’t even notice bringing him to the training room: it looked much smaller than theirs room, but it was just as cozy here, and Johnny thought the soundproofing was better here than in theirs company’s gym.

- So what dance would you like to dance? - asked Ten with honey voice, closing the door behind him. Johnny became very uncomfortable, because they were together there, and then his “daddy” made itself felt, showing through the fabric of tight jeans. I thought about wearing something loose,- he thoughts, and then looked up and caught the curious gaze of a dancer who was grinning and looking as sly as in his video.

- I would like to.. With you in ... I mean, dance on the pylon, you do it so wonderful and easily, it’s incredible ... - Johnny explained, looking at the floor like a child guilty of something. Ten only nodded in response to his praise.

- Well, since you are so amazed, would you like to see one of my best dances? - asked Ten after a pause and, without waiting for an answer, turned to the speakers behind him to find the music. - You can sit there - Ten pointed on the rugs.

Johnny decided that sitting down would be the best decision he made today. He sat down on the mat and, as it seemed to him, imperceptibly corrected his disgrace in his pants, but Ten saw everything watching the American in the mirror. Dancer just grinned at this maneuver.

Ten finally found the song, turned it on and ran briskly to the pole. He shook his head, stretched, and the song “Baby Don’t Like It “played. Johnny didn’t even immediately realize that it was a song from his group, he just thought he had already heard it somewhere.

Ten’s shoulders were wider than the guys his height, but he was very slim and flexible. Every movement of his hips made Johnny squeal inside, his arms were thin and even seemed a little feminine, but when he grabbed the pole, Suh opened his mouth in surprise and wondering where so much power in such a body. The song was alluring, and the atmosphere which Ten created with his dance was such that you can cut the air with a knife. At first, Johnny was controlling himself, but then he gazed at the guy. He even rarely blinked so as not to miss a single movement. There was nothing vulgar in dancer’s movements, but the way he presented the dance left nothing in his thoughts, except sexual fantasies. The guy glides along the pylon like a snake, and that sly look pins to Suh. Ten definitely understood his sexuality and knew what to press on. From time to time Johnny pinched his own hand to calm down a little.

Alas, Ten’s dance came to the end, and Johnny again did not even notice. His throat was dry, he wanted to drink even more than then in the cafe. With this dance, Ten finally won Suh’s heart.

- What do you think about it? - asked Ten. He slid down the pylon and sat on the floor opposite Johnny.

- You’re just like God, - croaked American. The dancer only smiled at this.

- You can just call me Ten.

Johnny didn’t know what to say to that and just hummed. He thought it would be much easier in live communication. Ten seemed not even tense. But he apparently felt that the tension was still there and emanated from Johnny.

- Well, will you sit and be silent, or will you offer to go on a date? - Ten interrupted the silence, getting closer to Johnny. Suh did not expect such a turn.

- Sorry, what?

- Come on, they’ve already told me everything about your love for me. I am the best friend of one of your group mate, and he told me about your feelings, - the dancer laughed, standing up from the floor and sitting down next to Suh, who was crazy about the situation. - At first I didn’t believe it either, because I have been a fan of yours group for a long time, and my bias is a fan of my dances, - Ten continued to twitter while Johnny was digesting the information. He could just use one of his morons - classmates, but he sat for six months like an idiot and suffered?

Did it suddenly happen that the person he loved was also a fan? Well, it flabbergasted me. Johnny just couldn’t help but smile with happiness.

Interrupting Ten’s speech, Suh pulled him into a gentle kiss, gently hugging the guy by the shoulders, because he was afraid of breaking Ten’s back with his strength. As expected, this guy is wonderful in everything, even in the kiss he brought his individuality. When they pulled away from each other, Ten chuckled.

- Well, actually, at first I would prefer to go on a date, but I also like your version. But wait a minute.

Ten got to his feet and turned the key in the lock, and then came back, knelt down directly to Suh and crawled on top of him like a cat.

- So where did we stop?

＼ （Ｔ∇Ｔ） ／ ＼ （Ｔ∇Ｔ） ／ ＼ （Ｔ∇Ｔ） ／

After a hot relaxation in the training room, Ten and Johnny took a shower separately, and Suh, like a gentleman, invited the guy to dinner. They went to the ramen cafe, where they ordered a few servings of noodles because they lost a lot of calories. It turned out they were like two pears in a pod: Ten argued with Johnny, who would eat two portions of ramen faster. Suh would win, but so as not to upset Ten, he patiently waited for him to eat his portions first, and then, like a child, rejoiced for him, clutching his cheeks.

Until recently, Johnny did not even know how to talk to a guy, but now they tried the forbidden fruit, albeit in the hall, but they will definitely repeat this in all places, because the elder now knows how much Ten fell in love with him during this time. Johnny could not want more, but fate rewarded him for restraint with a gift in the form of this adorable kitten.

[frogs-spawn]

it’s true lads, i have actually written something

(this was a prologue of a long canon fic that i’m writing/on hiatus on (oops) but i was thinking of changing the pov of it, so this doesn’t fit in it anymore) i may end up finishing the canon one, but it is long, so it probably won’t see the light of day, but we’ll see

anyway, here’s the ao3 link if you would like to read it on there: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31116254

a tragic twist of fate:

summary: the lupin family are enjoying a quiet evening, when an unwelcome visitor shows up, changing all of their lives forever.

word count: 1.6k

The sun was setting, casting a burning haze across the sea, and subsequently over the unsuspecting cul-de-sac in the Gower. The pebble-dashed bungalows that hugged the road were quaint and uniform, with a meagre patch of grass out the front that barely constituted as a garden. All things considered; it was a very normal street. There were the Jones', with their tiny Yorkshire terrier, which was small in size but easily compensated with its tremendous bark. The Thomas', who were always out the front regardless of the weather, observing the street's comings and goings. The Liu's, whose windows were constantly filled with an assortment of different lights, illuminating the street, making it feel like Christmas every day. Opposite them, were the Lupin's. There was Lyall, who has a mysterious job that no one is quite able to figure out exactly what it entails; his wife, Hope, who made sure that the whole street was well and truly fed; finally, their 5-year-old son, Remus, who's usually found playing out on the empty street.

Remus, as expected, was having a game of tag with Julia from across the road when his mother called out from the front door. She had thick blonde hair, slightly greying at the crown of her head, which was tied up into a loose bun, the fly-always whipping the side of her face, which was covered slightly with gravy.

"Remus, it's time to come in now. Your father has just gotten home, and dinner's almost ready."

"But Mammy! I'm not even tired," Remus pleaded, shouting back, a little breathless. "Can we have a few more minutes? Please?"

"It's okay, Mrs Lupin." Julia panted, brushing her dark fringe from out of her eyes, it was a miracle she could even see. She was a few years older than Remus but was still somehow shorter than the boy (who was only slightly tall for his age). "I think my parents want me back soon anyway." She turned to Remus and smiled, "We're going to go out and play again tomorrow, aren’t we Re?”

"Yeah, okay then. I'll see you tomorrow! Bye!" Remus chirped back, with some newfound energy. He then proceeded to hurtle up the driveway and stumble through the front door.

“Not even going to give your old mammy a cwtch?” Hope laughed, following her son through the door, shoving her hands into her pockets.

He clambered onto his chair at the kitchen table and watched eagerly as his mother took a roast lamb out of the oven and began to dish it out on to mismatched plates. There were roast potatoes, which were crispy on the outside, but still fluffy and buttery on the inside, peas, carrots, and parsnips - that were roasted to perfection, and it was all smothered with thick gravy that was laden with salt and had the potential to clog up your arteries – but if it’s bad for you then that meant it would probably delicious. Remus’ mouth was practically watering.

"Now, as you've been running around all afternoon, I'll give you the extra roastie, how about that?" Hope smiled down at Remus, scooping a roast potato onto the plate.

Lyall stooped into the kitchen at that moment, placing his tattered briefcase down onto the splintered wooden counter and bent over to kiss his wife on the head. He was tall and lanky with brown curly hair that was just starting to thin. He wore deep navy robes over the top of a well-fitted suit, looking as if he had just walked out of a very important meeting. He could have been a very intimidating man if it weren't for the way his eyes lit up and his mouth formed a crooked grin when he looked adoringly across his small family, with an immense sense of pride.

"This looks wonderful, darling. What did I ever do to deserve you?" he laughed as went over to his son and ruffled his hair. "According to Mrs Thomas, you've been charging up and down the road all day! No wonder you look knackered." He fell into the chair next to him, as Hope brought the dinner over.

The family ate with easy conversation. Hope explained how she had heard from Mrs Thomas that Mrs Jones was apparently putting empty wine bottles into her recycling bin and Lyall explained his new case at work, but it seemed boring, so Remus didn't pay it much attention. He wolfed his food down so quickly, barely stopping for a breath, his poor mother thought he might end up with indigestion.

"Stay in your own lane, Lyall, that's what they said," Lyall explained in between mouthfuls, gesturing at no one in particular with his fork. "They won't believe me though, and that Greyback has been released again, the man makes my skin crawl." He used air quotes when describing him and huffed, as he took another bite out of his roast. "It's madness, I told them that. Did they listen? No. Cases of lycanthropy are going up and it's because of creatures like them. String 'em all up for all I care. Bloody werewolves.”

"Not at the table Lyall," Hope piped in, sensing that her husband was about to go on another one of his world-renowned rants. "I understand it's a pain, especially if no one listens to you at work, but let's keep dinner time a happy affair, don't you think?"

"Yeah, no, sorry love" he gave her a sweet smile, which she returned. "Anyway. Did you have you had fun today, Re?"

The boy looked up and nodded quickly. "Yeah, me and Julia played lots of games. We had a race to see who was faster. And I won!" he exclaimed, talking at the speed of a hundred miles per hour, he spread his arms for dramatic effect and sat up higher in his chair. "She said I was cheating, but I wasn't, I promise!"

"No, of course, you weren't." Lyall laughed and looked down at his son like he was the most precious thing in the world.

After dinner, the family were positioned around the small-rickety fire pit that was positioned in the corner of the patio, made up of broken slabs of concrete with weeds emerging like great vines through the gaps. The fire crackled and spat, specks of charred wood and the burning flame releasing swirling smoke into the atmosphere. They sat on wobbly wooden chairs, that they had gotten from the charity shop, which were starting to rot and covered in splinters. However, Hope had made some colourful and slightly garish cushions, so it was incredibly comfortable, despite the small risk of the chairs collapsing from underneath them. Hope was sat with a pair of knitting needles in hand, focusing on the burgundy jumper that Remus would undoubtedly get for Christmas in a couple of months time. Remus sat opposite and was looking eagerly at his father, who was making the little old wooden figurines of soldiers that Hope collected do an Irish jig across the uneven stone.

Then, there was a rustling in the undergrowth at the far end of the garden. The birds that had nested and settled in for the evening took flight, flying off into the rising moon, bright and beautiful.

"What on earth could that be?" Hope wondered out loud, staring out into the distance, squinting her eyes.

'I'll go check it out.” Lyall chuckled as he pushed himself out of the chair. "Probably just a fox, I shall go shoo it away."

He wandered to the end of the garden, managing to avoid the snail hotel Remus had built a year ago. He lit up his wand so that he could see at least three steps ahead of himself.

It was a surprise that it remained standing, despite the howling gales and torrential rain it had to endure, it stayed. For as long as he could remember, Remus looked after the snails in the hotel, gave them any leftover lettuce. They were his favourite magical creatures. It fascinated him, the way they could stick to the walls and go upside down, the only way that was possible, Remus decided, was magic. Lyall didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.

"Ah, Lyall Lupin. Just the man I wanted to see." An unfamiliar voice snarled. The voice was deep and ragged as if it had been strained from screaming too loud "Fancy seeing you here."

“Fenrir.” Lyall cut back, voice curt but contained a small tremble. "Leave me and my family alone and take your unpleasant business somewhere else." He straightened his jacket and stood rigidly, making himself taller. But the figure, Fenrir, stood a head above him, despite his hunched posture.

"I don't think that would be necessary." He countered, his voice becoming more and more menacing. "How is your family? I'd love to meet them." He shoved Lyall out of the way, causing him to lose balance and he stumbled into the hedge.

“Hope! Remus! Get into the house and lock the door!” Lyall shouted, desperately, unable to keep up with Greyback, who was striding across the garden.

Hope quickly grabbed her things and ran, pushing open the back door with a creak.

“Remus, come on lamb, into the house.” Hope coaxed from the door, trying to sound as calm as possible.

But Remus stayed rooted to the spot, unmoving, fixed and waiting, staring into the monster before him.

Fenrir Greyback was a giant of a man, towering easily over 6 feet tall. He was unkempt and greasy, covered in black matted hair. His deceitful yellowing eyes emitting nothing venom. Remus scrambled off of the chair and edged slowly towards his mother. It was too late.

Their eyes locked. A deal had been struck.

Under the silver moon, Greyback's manic grin turned pointed and wider. Bones cracked, twisted, and popped. Hair became thicker, wired, and coarse. Tortured hands and feet transformed into gnarly claws. His previously crooked nose became a leathery, wet, snout.

Barring his teeth, Fenrir Greyback took a couple of paces forward, crushing the hotel under a monstrous paw, towards a terrified Remus Lupin.

And pounced.

[remmushound]

Theft is not tolerated

Content warning: abuse, choking

The brown axolotl was brought in front of the crowd, nothing but hate in the white that filled their eyes. Mutants— they were all mutants, and the hatred in their eyes was not for her form, but her actions.

“Lisa…” Out from the shadows stalked the very creature that Mona Lisa had been dreading. Big and burly with dark brown fur and a cruel face, the cat mutant Hobs started to circle Mona Lisa, his one good eye glinting in the dark. “You upset me today, Lisa. Do you know that?”

“Y...yes Hobs.” Mona Lisa’s body went stiff, her tail like a board, and her eyes averted to watch her feet instead of the tom cat. “I didn't mean to, Hobs…”

“Oh, you didn't mean to…” Hobs nodded and clicked his tongue, “Of course. That makes sense.” He snapped his fingers and two guards brought over a bag, dropping it between Mona Lisa and Hobs. “I suppose all of this just… fell in there then?”

He unzipped the bag slowly, and with steady ziiiiip, Mona Lisa felt like an elephant was sitting on her chest. Her eyes stung but she knew if she started to cry then the punishment would be so much worse. The bag opened to reveal supplies, and lots of them: food, water, blankets, and sanitaries were folded neatly inside of every pocket and zipper. Hobs reached in and pulled out a can of goods.

“Yes, I suppose these canned peas rolled inside, and— and that this water bottle sprouted legs.” Hobs’ voice was leaking with condescendence, “And even more miraculous, these sanitaries just happened to be in there, and yet all of them seem so neatly organized in there! Almost as if someone…” He cupped Mona Lisa’s head in his paw, “...put them in there.”

“Hobs, I can—“

Hobs held up a paw for silence. “Lisa, when you were mutated and your family abandoned you, who was there for you?” Hobs asked, his voice going almost soft as he tilted his head. “When you were starving, who fed you? And when you were thirsty or cold or scared, who helped you?”

“Y...you did Hobs…”

“I did.” Hobs repeated with a smile, holding his hands to his chest. “I welcomed you into my home, into my life! We were family!” His paw shot out, wrapping around Mona Lisa’s throat and starting to slowly squeeze while the axolotl struggled. “And you don’t… steal… from family…”

Hobs held Mona Lisa there for several long minutes while she clawed and gasped and tried to suck in a breath through the constriction of his strength. She tried to pry him off, then she tried to kick him, and whip him with her tail, but nothing worked. He just kept squeezing harder, leaning closer, flashing his fangs.

Then he let go, and he watched as Mona Lisa coughed and gagged for breath. She fell to the ground as her legs gave out on her. “But, as you know, I am a merciful father, and I am willing to let this little indiscretion pass if you would, I don’t know, tell me where you were going?”

Once Mona Lisa was able to speak, no longer caring about crying in front of the cat, she said, “I wasn’t going to go anywhere! I was just… just going…”

“Really?” Hobs frowned, and started to circle Mona Lisa, his voice rumbling steadily in her ear. “You weren’t… going to see a particular group of turtles? Or a fox, by chance?”

Mona Lisa shook her head.

“No?” Hobs stuck out his bottom lip and hummed, “Well, if you have no one expecting you, then surely you can afford to stay here. With. Me.”

Mona Lisa choked on the air. Alopex was expecting her, depending on her to bring that food to the shelter. What would her friend think when she never showed up? When all those mutants went hungry?

“You’re lucky I am so forgiving.” Hobs grabbed Mona Lisa’s shoulders and guided her to stand up. Then he yanked her into a hug, nosing his muzzle into her neck and breathing into her ear. “Welcome back Mona Lisa.”

[papermoonloveslucy]

THE HEALTH FARM

May 7, 1950

"The Health Farm” is episode #87 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on May 7, 1950.

Synopsis ~  Liz and Iris are fed up with their husbands taking them for granted, so they check in to a fat farm. 

This episode features elements that later went into the “I Love Lucy” episodes “The Diet” (ILL S1;E3 ~ October 29, 1951) and “The Charm School” (ILL S3;E15 ~ January 25, 1954).  Lucy Carmichael and the Countess Frambois went to a fat farm run by Mr. Mooney in “Lucy and the Countess Lose Weight” (TLS S3;E21) on  February 15, 1965.

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George’s boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benadaret was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Cooper. The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

MAIN CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cooper) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. With Richard Denning, she starred in a radio program titled “My Favorite Husband” which eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cooper) was born Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father’s garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his  roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.” From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Gale Gordon (Rudolph Atterbury) had worked with Lucille Ball on “The Wonder Show” on radio in 1938. One of the front-runners to play Fred Mertz on “I Love Lucy,” he eventually played Alvin Littlefield, owner of the Tropicana, during two episodes in 1952. After playing a Judge in an episode of “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” in 1958, he would re-team with Lucy for all of her subsequent series’: as Theodore J. Mooney in ”The Lucy Show”; as Harrison Otis Carter in “Here’s Lucy”; and as Curtis McGibbon on “Life with Lucy.” Gordon died in 1995 at the age of 89.

Bea Benadaret (Iris Atterbury) was considered the front-runner to be cast as Ethel Mertz but when “I Love Lucy” was ready to start production she was already playing a similar role on TV’s “The George Burns and Gracie Allen Show” so Vivian Vance was cast instead. On “I Love Lucy” she was cast as Lucy Ricardo’s spinster neighbor, Miss Lewis, in “Lucy Plays Cupid” (ILL S1;E15) in early 1952. Later, she was a success in her own show, “Petticoat Junction” as Shady Rest Hotel proprietress Kate Bradley. She starred in the series until her death in 1968.

Ruth Perrott (Katie, the Maid) does not appear in this episode. 

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

GUEST CAST

Elvia Allman (Mrs. Fataway) was born on September 19, 1904 in Enochville, North Carolina. She started her performing career on radio in the 1920s, as both a storyteller and singer. This led to work voicing cartoon characters for Warner Brothers. Simultaneously, she was pursuing stage acting, appearing at the Pasadena Playhouse. Allman made her film debut as an actress in 1940’s The Road to Singapore as a homely woman who pursues Bob Hope. Allman played the strident forewoman of Kramer’s Kandy Kitchen in “Job Switching” (ILL S2;E1).  She would return to the show as one of Minnie Finch’s neighbors in “Fan Magazine” (ILL S3;E17) and as reporter Nancy Graham in “The Homecoming” (ILL S5;E6). She made two appearances each on The Lucy–Desi Comedy Hour“ and ”The Lucy Show.“

EPISODE

ANNOUNCER: “As we look in on the Coopers today, we find George in his office at the bank. Suddenly, the door bursts open and in strides Mr. Atterbury, his boss.”

Mr. Atterbury is upset that somehow Liz’s girdle got entered on his balance sheet. George is worried about Liz.  She has been buying lots of new clothes lately.  Mr. Atterbury tells him the trick of combating new clothing bought by wives.  When they try it on and ask “How do you like my new dress?” you say “What new dress?”  They immediately return it as looking just like her old one!  

Liz and Iris are out shopping.  Liz shockingly says she’s not going to buy anything today.  She is doing it because of George’s concern about her budget.  

They see a sign: GET YOUR SPRING TUNE-UP!  WE CAN MAKE A 1950 MODEL OUT OF AN OLD WRECK! SPEND 11 GLORIOUS DAYS AT FATAWAY FARM

Liz sees some ‘dirty words’ that tempt her: “Gigantic Clearance Sale!”  Liz attempts to turn her back away from temptation, but when somebody is looking at the same dress she likes - she give in to temptation. 

Liz and Iris arrive home with their shopping.  They go to the bedroom to put Liz’s new things away: a dress, a bag, and shoes.  She now has to think about what lie to tell George before the bill arrives in a month. Iris tells her that George won’t notice if she wears the dress because husbands only notice OTHER women!  

IRIS: “Every time I get a new dress I show it to Rudolph and he says ‘What new dress?’ and as long as he doesn’t know it’s new, I keep it!” 

Iris dares her to put the new dress on and see if George notices.  George comes home and Liz takes the dare.  Liz parades in front of George in the new dress.  Just as Iris said, George doesn’t notice anything.  She finally breaks down and asks him about her new dress.

GEORGE: “What new dress? I’ve seen it a hundred times!”

Liz is indignant that George takes her for granted and bursts into tears.

ANNOUNCER: “As we return to the Coopers, we find Liz and Iris Atterbury down at the corner drugstore. Iris is trying to console Liz, who believes George takes her for granted.”

LIZ: “What are you supposed to do when you think that you’re the apple of your husband’s eye and find out you’re the core?”   IRIS: “You’re not alone, Liz! The world is full of single apples and married cores. It’s part of living.” 

Iris tells Liz that she’s expecting her husband to act like a fiancé!  Liz realizes she’s let herself go.  She’s taken herself for granted.  They remember the ad in the beauty shop and decide to go for the free tune-up - if not the whole overhaul!   They decide to tell their husband’s that they are staying at Marge Van Tassel’s country place. 

At Fataway Farms, they arrive at the office.  Mrs. Fataway (Elvia Allman) greets them, and outlines their plan.  They get scared of their fierce founder, but they are locked in!  

Mrs. Fataway leads Iris and Liz in exercises, which they struggle with mightily. Next Liz and Iris try out the steam cabinets. 

LIZ: “If they don’t come soon, they’ll have to pick me up with a blotter.”  

Liz is a limp rag when Mrs. Fataway finally opens the cabinets. She announces a two-mile hike!

LIZ: “Keen dipped in pickle juice.”

On their hike they finally reach their destination.  They have the option to ride back or march back. Liz is to weak to even express an opinion, and ends up walking back.  

After 11 days, Liz and Iris arrive home, feeling rejuvenated and revitalized!  Their husbands greet them with affection.  

George notices that Liz looks thin and calls her a plucked chicken.  Liz breaks down in tears. 

GEORGE: “I didn’t want you beautiful. I want you just the way you were.”

Liz is relieved and starts to gorge herself with food!  Iris is just about to join in, when Rudolph stops her!  

MR. ATTERBURY: “I like you just as you are now!” 

End of Episode

In the live Jell-O commercial tag, Lucille plays a siren from ancient mythology and Bob LeMond a sailor being lured toward the rocks. 

Lucille’s first line as a siren is to imitate a police siren.  She then lapses into a chirpy, pinched nosed voice.  

LUCILLE / SIREN: “Oh, sailor!  Oh, sailor boy!  I have Jell-O tapioca pudding!”  

He asks her if she has Jell-O orange coconut tapioca. 

LUCILLE / SIREN: “A wonderful blend of refreshing orange and tropical coconuts?” BOB / SAILOR: “Yes!  Do you?” LUCILLE / SIREN: “No.  I just wanted to see what happened.”

The siren lures him to the rocks. The sound effects end with a motorboat crashing with a big boom!

ANNOUNCER: “Watch for Lucille Ball in today’s issue of Parade.”

[hms-chill]

The Long Way

A nice fun Liam/Spencer fic, because these boys deserve the world.

Summary: (Alternately titled “SOMEONE GIVE LIAM A HUG” or “Stronk Farm Boyfriends”)Liam’s just finishing up vet school, and he’s a month shy of achieving the thing he’s been working for since he was a kid. When he gets called out to a farm to witness a calf birth and notices something wrong, under-researched, and curable, it’s the perfect thing to treat and document so he can write a paper that will jump-start his career. Of course, the fact that the calf is owned by a cute dairy farmer doesn’t hurt, either.

Chapter one // Chapter two // On AO3

Chapter 3

The next morning, Spencer wakes up to a note telling him that the cows have been fed, milked, loved, and let out to pasture, and that Liam had cleaned the milking parlor as well as he could before he had to leave, but that someone else should probably look it over and make sure he did it well enough. It also tells him that he has a temperature and is supposed to stay in bed and ask his parents to come look after him and supervise things today, and it promises that Liam will come by that night with soup, medicine, and popcorn if Spencer's feeling up to it. He texts Liam his thanks, and Liam responds with a picture of a dog he's looking after and a reminder to stay in bed and let himself be taken care of. It's not something Spencer's particularly good at, but he obeys Liam's orders, letting his parents come out to run the farm for the day while he naps and does some work from bed.

That night, Liam arrives with a container of frozen soup and a bag full of painkillers, Tylenol, and other medicine cabinet staples. He makes Spencer sit and watch while he heats up soup on the stove, putting another container in the freezer before Spencer can argue. He refuses to listen when Spencer says he can restock his own medicine cabinet, or when Spencer tries to tell him to study for the NAVLE while he stirs the soup. At this point, it's only a week or two away, and Spencer's seen the test prep books and the notes scattered around the back of video calls and in his car. He's gotten glimpses of how hard Liam's working, but tonight, Liam refuses to study, instead getting Spencer settled on the couch, then coming over with bowls of soup and settling on the opposite end, which is apparently enough space between them that he doesn't have to worry about getting sick. He insists Spencer pick a movie for them to watch, something lighthearted that he's seen before, and when it turns out Liam's never seen Treasure Planet, Spencer pulls that up for them to watch with their soup. Even as he finishes dinner and feels the tiredness of being sick start to set in, he keeps his eyes open, fighting against yawns and drooping eyelids to watch Liam react to Jim's adventures.

Spencer's exhaustion is just starting to win against his desire to watch Liam finish the movie when he notices what might be tears on Liam's cheeks. That wakes him up enough to turn back to the TV, and he sees Jim and Long John Silver talking. He forces himself awake enough to pay attention, and it's a moment he always loved as a kid. He can quote it word for word, and for years, he had a poster that said "you've got the makings of greatness in you" on his wall. It's the first time in the movie when Jim's felt good at what he does, and maybe the first time in years he's been told he's not just a mess, and Spencer remembers always being happy to see him get a hug. His parents used to hug him at this point, and tell him they loved him. And suddenly, a question about Liam's parents surfaces from the depths of his sleepy mind.

He's not awake enough to formulate it, or to read Liam's expression enough to know if he can ask. He's not sure if he's healthy enough to be allowed to do anything about Liam's tears. But just sitting there feels wrong, too. Slowly, he reaches his foot across the couch to rest it on Liam's. Liam doesn't react, but he doesn't move away, either. Spencer falls asleep with his foot on Liam's, trying to think of a reason for him to cry or a way to ask about it.

--

Liam had meant to turn the movie off and study when Spencer fell asleep, but somehow, he can't stop watching. Knowing it was one of Spencer's favorite movies from when he was a kid probably doesn't hurt; he can tell himself he's just watching to get to know Spencer better. It's definitely not because he wants to watch Jim achieve his dreams, or to know that he gets to have a home and a family and people who love him even if he's messed up time and time again.

He watches through the end of the movie, and only when the credits are rolling is he able to tear himself away enough to turn it off and gather their dishes. He comes back to the couch to take Spencer to bed but instead finds him just starting to blink awake, pushing himself upright.

"Sorry, I... I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"No, it's alright. You fell right into the trap. The movie was part of my master plan to make you fall asleep early," Liam says, and Spencer smiles though a yawn.

"Did you like it?"

"I did. Now, come on, let's get you to bed."

"What time is it?"

"Bedtime, at least for people with fevers. If you sleep like you have been, you're going to take longer to get better."

"But I wanted to quiz you," Spencer says. His voice is still thick with sleep, and he yawns massively before he can continue, rubbing at his eyes. His hair sticks up in the back, and somewhere, even if he knows he shouldn't, Liam finds it adorable. "I don't want to get you sick, but you can send me your quizlet or your study guide or something and I can quiz you from my laptop. I... if you're going to help me, I want to help you study, and I'm not getting off this couch until you let me."

"Nope, come on," Liam says. He's started trying to pull Spencer up, but Spencer refuses to budge, grabbing on to the back of the couch.

"No! Let me--" he's cut off by a cough, one that has Liam frowning and resting a hand on his forehead.

"If I let you quiz me once, you'll go to bed after?" He asks, and Spencer nods. Liam seems to weigh his options for a moment, then sighs. "Alright. I'll go get my stuff, and if you're awake when I get back from the car, you can quiz me before you go to bed. I don't know what kind of weird deal we just made, but if it'll get you to look after yourself, I'll do it."

"You fell... right into my trap. My master plan to make you study," Spencer says, yawning in the middle of it. Liam rolls his eyes and goes to get his stuff, and he comes back to find Spencer clearly fighting to stay awake. He hands Spencer half his flashcards over the back of the couch, slipping the rest into his bag as he comes to sit down. Spencer doesn't notice, just starts to quiz him, stumbling over the Latin and yawning his way through the longer words. Liam just gets through the flashcards as quickly as they can, then gets Spencer up and to bed before settling down outside his room to keep studying until he's too tired to focus, when he gets up, checks on Spencer one last time, and heads out to the barn to sleep in the hay and sawdust with Annie.

He gets the morning chores taken care of the next day before going home to shower and change, and he texts Spencer that he's looked after things. He's at work when he gets a reply, that Spencer's feeling better but still has a fever, so he's resting again that day if Liam wants to come by and share the rest of the soup. So they fall into another pattern and another set of roles in each other's lives, though Liam's soup is replaced with Spencer's mom's cooking before long. They work their way through Spencer's favorite childhood movies, and Liam studies to a soundtrack of Robin Hood and Aladdin and The Fox and the Hound as Spencer's fever goes down and he falls asleep on the couch. When he's feeling well enough to go back to work, Liam thinks that'll be the end of it. After all, he's helped with what Spencer needs, and now that Spencer doesn't need him anymore, he won't be invited back. But that day at lunch, he gets a text inviting him over for dinner and either a night off or a study session, whichever he wants.

The thought of dedicating a Friday night to the NAVLE when it will already be consuming his weekend makes him want to scream, so he takes Spencer up on the option of a night off, and Spencer asks if he knows how to ride a horse. When Liam pulls up to the ranch that night, he finds Spencer standing outside a barn with two of the horses saddled up and a picnic packed in the saddle bags. They mount up, and Spencer leads the way out toward the pastures, where they can greet the cows and the newest addition to the ranch, a donkey Spencer's neighbors hadn't been able to look after anymore who he's agreed to take care of and let their grandkids visit. The animals are glad to see them, especially Spencer after he's been gone, but there's something special about the fact that they recognize Liam, too. Once they've loved them, though, Spencer leads them further back into the ranch, to land Liam's never seen that they rent out for boy scout camping and other events in the summer and fall. There's a stream and a fish pond, and when Spencer stops them on its banks and pulls out some of his mom's food, they're surrounded by all the gorgeous beauty of the open country that Liam's missed since his family moved into Austin proper.

Spencer asks him about work, and Liam gets to tell him about dogs and cats and a pigeon that someone had brought in for them to help out. He'd asked to be put on the pigeon case, and they'd had to amputate a toe, but Frank the pigeon is out and thriving on the streets of Austin once again. That makes Spencer laugh, a sound that warms Liam from the inside out, making him relax as the NAVLE drifts further and further from his mind. They finish eating as Spencer starts talking about what they do out here, about weddings and camps they've hosted and how he likes to have at least one day a year where they open it up for hiking and catch and release fishing. He shows Liam where groups will set up tents, and talks about how they've thought about horseback tours if they get more horses, or maybe planting corn or pumpkins for fall, though they've never quite gotten around to doing that early enough. Liam just listens to him talk as they ride, hearing not only the words but the way that Spencer's brain works, the way he bubbles over with ways to make people happy and provide for the farm. He talks about the farmer's market every summer, about loyal customers, a girl who always comes to buy cheese curds with a tote bag that has a cow on it and a mom who's been buying milk from him since she was pregnant and now has a three year old. He talks about the woman who he's had a stall next to for two years, an alpaca farmer who sells fiber and will talk your ear off about spinning or felting and is always liberal with help for people new to the craft. She's got pictures of the alpacas for sale, and Spencer wants to see about doing that with the cows, and that's when Liam can add something useful.

"The shelter I used to work for has a local photographer who comes in and takes pictures for their website; I could get you connected with him for at least a few pointers if nothing else. He volunteered at the shelter to build his portfolio, so I'm not sure what his rates are for pictures, or the commercial licenses or anything like that, but he could be a good place to start. "

"That would be great; thank you. I... I feel like I have so many ideas for this place, though, and it's just finding the time to implement them, you know? Especially since Mom and Dad moved into town, it's... there's just not enough time in the day for everything we wanted to do."

"Well, hey, you can feel free to tell me no, but after this test, I’ll have some time and would love to come out and help if you need it. I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but just some manual labor and some basic animal care at least.”

"I'd like that," Spencer says, and his grin is genuine enough to sway any of Liam's fears that he's just doing it to be nice. "I don't know what we could pay you--"

"Pay me in outside time and home cooked meals and I'll be happy. I love places like this, and I really do love farm work. Let me be around the cows and the open land, and really, that's all I need. Well, that and maybe..." he hesitates a bit, but Spencer nods, and Liam says, "if you wouldn't mind having a puppy or a lamb or something out here sometimes? Just for a bit? I… we get orphans at work sometimes, and they always need more places to go. I wouldn’t want to make you do anything, but I could look after them, I just… I can’t have them in my apartment. My landlord won’t let me, and that’s not fair to them, either. I’m not asking you to become a sanctuary or anything, I know you’re a dairy farm, but maybe a rescue petting zoo could help at the farmer’s market or when you have schools come out to visit or something? And then we could take the babies somewhere else when they’re older, but just… they need more care when they’re babies, and a lot of places can’t do that.”

"I think we could make that work," Spencer says. He's got a hand resting on the pommel of his saddle, another scratching at the back of his neck, where he's somehow managed to get a mosquito bite despite being on bed rest all week. He'd complained about it at dinner, and Liam had to bite back a comment about how it might be because he’s so sweet. He can’t say things like that to Spencer, not like he would to Bell or some of his friends. “We could see about getting some calves in a petting zoo, too, and maybe Benjamin the donkey, since he doesn't really have a place to go right now. I don’t really know… you said you tend to get mostly babies?”

“Yeah; there are always orphan lambs and kids-- the goats, not like human children. Goats and sheep tend to have a bunch of babies at a time, so the moms can’t always look after all of them. And they’re not too hard to take care of, and really cute, so they could help draw people in the spring or for letting out day if you put up a petting zoo. And we get kittens; once I get somewhere that’ll let me I could foster them but bring them out if you have people coming, so they could play with and maybe even adopt them. I don’t want to make you look after my orphans or anything, and I swear I’d do the work, but just… there are so many babies who need a place like this, and if I could work and earn a little bit of space to raise them, I’d really appreciate it.”

“I think we could make some room,” Spencer says, grinning. “And it would be nice to have a vet around. I mean, it’s always nice having you around, but in case you didn’t feel like you’d be helpful. I… I'd really like having you out here more. When you weren’t coming out much, it was lonely.”

Liam grins at him, and they continue the tour, Spencer sharing about his plans for the farm and what he wants to do once he can get the funds and the time to do it. He’s one of the most dedicated farmers Liam’s ever seen, and there’s something beautiful about even just the way he moves around the farm. He’s relaxed out here, without the cows and the bills to stress him out, more like the Spencer who fell asleep in Annie's box or who posted selfies with friends on Instagram than the Spencer who's running a massive farm on his own. And all through the rest of the evening, there’s a little part of Liam thinking about spending more time out here, helping Spencer and showing it to Bell and really making it a part of his life. Bell will love it, if they get a chance she'd love coming out here with him and seeing the stream. He could take her swimming here, and even if he just planned on relaxing next to the pool she'd somehow get him into the water too, all playful kisses and enthusiastic love. Maybe Spencer would even come out, and laugh at how much Liam is at her beck and call, or maybe she'd be able to persuade him to get in the water, too, and the three of them would end up soaking wet and laughing.

It feels impossible. He's only here now because he's useful; Spencer will get sick of him before too long, and he’ll have to go back to spending most of his time at a crappy apartment in the city while he saves up for a spot he and Bell can call home. But still, at least for a bit, he gets to imagine that he could have a place here, and that feels special. Even as they finish their ride and he goes home to a pot of ramen and a late-night study session, his thoughts stray back outside Austin’s city limits, where he knows the cows are bedding down and the land behind the farm stretches for miles. When he finally drags himself to bed, he has just enough time to think about a little pen on that farm for animals he can foster, and ways Bell could help him, before he closes his eyes and is out like a light.

On AO3

You know that moment in Pride and Prejudice where Austen shows us/Elizabeth how much Darcy loves Pemberly as a way to show that he's a good dude? All I can say about this chapter is that the nature of humanity is that every now and then someone accidentally rewrites that scene.

--

Want to support the Hannah Makes Art fund? You can tip me in ko-fi here!

[softjeon]

Home | Pt. 4

• Pairing: Namjoon x Hybrid!Yoongi (Platonic!) • Genre: Fluff | Hybrid!AU • Words: 6,5k | AO3 • Disclaimer: a tiny bit of anxiety and insomnia

written with @cassiavioletblue

↳ Namjoon watched Yoongi strutting after him over his shoulder and sighed. He couldn’t believe he’s really done it; paying too much money for a hybrid that would bite him if given the chance when all he had wanted was a cute, little - very much harmless - kitten to begin with.

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Namjoon hummed in response, nodding as he was talking to Taehyung on the phone, smiling at Yoongi as he passed him. They were talking for a while now and Taehyung kept on switching between the topics and then kept asking him random questions about his hybrid again. He really needed to concentrate to follow him, closing his eyes to focus.

“Do you still want a kitten if he stays here? I think my neighbor’s cat had some offspring. It’s a bit too early now but in a few weeks maybe…,” Taehyung asked over the phone but Namjoon interrupted him right away. “No, I don’t think so. It saddens me enough already…I don’t need a cat right after, which probably doesn’t want to stay with me either. I’ll just sell the kitten stuff,” He quickly shrugged the conversation off, getting back on the topic to tell him about Yoongi and if they could meet up soon.

When Namjoon walked into the kitchen where Yoongi was eating his breakfast (Namjoon had urged him on to eat while he was still on the phone or else the other hadn’t touched it), he smiled. “So, I have good news and bad news.” Namjoon reached for one of the apple slices and took a bite from it, “Bad News: Taehyung won’t be here for a few days…so we can only meet him on Saturday. Which means you have to stay with me for a couple of days. I hope that’s okay? But to make up for the promise I gave you, I talked to another friend of mine…and I’d like to show you something.”

Yoongi - relaxed and fluffed up from his trip to the bathroom (he had almost fallen asleep from being so comfortable but then Namjoons pacing and talking on the phone had woken him back up and the smell of breakfast had drawn him into the kitchen) - paused mid eating. “I’ve been so long in capture that a few days won’t make a difference.” He answered, not really sure about it himself but there wasn’t really anything else he could do. Running around in circles and scratching the wall wouldn’t change anything. “Hm? Can it wait till after breakfast?” He had no idea what it was that Namjoon wanted to show him but it couldn’t be as amazing as scrambled eggs with bacon.

“Oh, you sure have to be well fed and have enough energy for this one.” Namjoon laughed and grabbed a slice of bread and some of the bacon, “Also I never skip on a meal.” He winked, before diving into his own food. It was nice like this, they were talking – not too much, but they were opening up to each other and Namjoon actually felt like Yoongi enjoyed it in a way. He was only hoping that his little surprise could ease him even more and make him see that Namjoon didn’t want to hurt him. He had promised him some freedom and if they couldn’t visit Taehyung, they could visit another friend of his: Jin.

They kept on eating in silence, not because they didn’t know what to say but because they were both so concentrated on their food. Yoongi ate until he was full again and Namjoon would have even offered him another serving. He would definitely miss Namjoon’s tasty food.

Namjoon opened a drawer in his hallway, keys already in hand and ready to go, when he pulled out a scarf. “I know you hate the collars, but we have to put something around your neck…so the people don’t freak.” Namjoon walked over to Yoongi, “Do you think that will be okay? I won’t put on a leash or anything. Just this.” 

The response made him pause again, looking at Namjoon with skepsis in his face while trying to see if Namjoon was hiding something - but the human was smiling at him completely open, his dimples showing again. Yoongi found himself relaxing easily again. He trusted Namjoon in a way because it was pretty easy to read his body language and while at first he hadn’t been sure if the other wasn’t just putting on a show while hiding his true motifs away he was now pretty sure that Namjoon wasn’t even capable of hiding something big from him. And he also liked his dimples. He frowned nonetheless. “Give it to me, I can handle that.” He took the scarf and tried to tie a proper knot but without a mirror and with no expertise in scarf the thing hung loosely and ugly around his throat when he was finished. Namjoon only chuckled at that, way too excited and nervous at the same time. 

In the car, he was bopping his head to the music as they drove further downtown trying not give away where they were headed to. “Jin is a good friend of mine. Actually, one of my oldest friends…,” Namjoon began explaining when he noticed how close they were, “But you don’t have to be afraid. Inside it will only be you and me. He only will open the doors for us.” He could literally see the confusion written on Yoongi’s face and how the expression changed when their car pulled up to a large parking lot. Yoongi was stiff and tense on the drive, he didn’t like the car and the other cars that drove past them and when Namjoon mentioned his friend his ears lowered. He didn’t know them and he would also be outnumbered - but apparently they wouldn’t even meet him? Yoongi was utterly confused until they arrived and his eyes widened. 

“He owns this Snow Dome. It’s a skiing center but they are closed on Wednesdays… you will have it all to yourself. I packed some food for you, something to drink…and I brought my laptop.” He turned off the engine and opened the car door, “I promised that you could run around on a field today but since Taehyung isn’t here, I thought you’d like this instead?”

There were big signs advertising the snow dome with pictures of snowflakes and ice and snow and everything Yoongi could dream of. “There is... snow inside?” He asked, still not sure if he had gotten this right, “But it’s not winter! Is this like a giant freezer? Do people store their food here if they don’t have space at home?”

Namjoon chuckled, opening the trunk of his car to get out a thick jacket for himself and the bag he had packed, “It’s a place where people usually ski inside, you know. And apparently some people prefer the cold and there is a kids place, too where they always build snowmen and igloos. There is a skiing slope inside, but as I said there won’t be anything on but the lights so you can just run around and do whatever you want to do for a few hours. There’s a lot of snow inside.” Namjoon waved Jin from where they stood and turned to look at his arctic fox that suddenly seemed way smaller, his eyes big and looking up at the sign with a hopeful glint. “You ready?”

Yoongi still wasn’t sure what ‘skiing’ was but he didn’t dare to ask so he just nodded and followed Namjoon, the prospect of seeing actual snow winning even over his wariness when that other human joined them, apparently Jin. Yoongi stepped from one foot to the other, nerves and curiosity mixing until he felt like he was about to burst form the restless energy in his veins. He was so fixated on what was inside that his tail twitched a few times, stroking over Namjoon’s fingers in the process and making him jump a little.

Namjoon thanked Jin, taking the key from him and trying to avoid answering anymore questions on why he had a hybrid now when he wanted to get a kitten in the first place. He quickly closed the door behind them and then motioned for Yoongi to go along. “This way,” Namjoon pointed behind the counter and showed Yoongi the way through the changing rooms all the way into heart of the dome. He placed his bag onto one of the tables at the now-closed and very empty bistro and opened up his arms, turning around to proudly present his surprise. “You’re free to go and explore. If you need me I’ll be here working on some stuff…just call out if you need anything or want snacks.” But before Namjoon sat down, he hesitated, taking a step closer to his fox. “Let me…,” Namjoon said quietly and untied the scarf from him, “We can put it on later again. You should enjoy yourself now.” 

Yoongi nodded enthusiastically and then turned towards the vast snowfield. It looked like everything he needed to be happy and he sniffed, furrowing his brows a little. “This smells different…,” He was more talking to himself than to Namjoon as he carefully took a tentative step into the snow. It crunched under his sole and with an over excited little hop the fox hybrid landed with both feet in the white stuff. He giggled when he felt the snow under both of his shoes. Then he crunched down and took up a hand full, licking it curiously. With a squeal he took a full bite of it, getting snow all over his face. “That’s... that‘s real snow!” Which was the last Namjoon heard from him for a while (except happy fox sounds) as he turned and started running as fast as he could.

Namjoon jerked a little when Yoongi first squealed thinking that something has been wrong, but then the fox had been running and looking so happy while doing so that it was enough reason for him to bare the cold. He got out his thermos and poured in some hot coffee, when he opened his browser to answer some emails. Namjoon had given his house viewing appointments over to his colleague, thinking that he had spent the day at Taehyung's.

Taking another sip from his coffee, he noticed it was already gone and after an hour even his thermos was completely empty.  He frowned, looking over his shoulder to one of the vending machines debating whether or not he should get himself another coffee. The tired yawn that followed answered that question for him and he only regretted it again, when he drank the first sip of the hot coffee from the automat. “Ugh,” Namjoon shook himself from the bad taste and leaned his chin onto his hand, trying to find Yoongi in the snow. He yawned again, blinking his eyes tiredly, feeling how heavy his eyelids felt. Pulling his jacket a little closer around himself, Namjoon closed his eyes. “Just for a moment,” He mumbled to himself. 

Yoongi completely lost track of time, running and jumping and rolling in the snow. Like a little pup. There was endless white, no cars, no dirt, no humans, just him and the snow and he loved it!

He started panting after a while, not caring about over exerting himself, he just wanted to enjoy it while it lasted though after a while the thought of what Namjoon might be doing had sneaked into his mind. Maybe they could do some snowball catching? When he caught sight of the human he realised with a tinge of disappointment that Namjoon didn’t have eyes for the crisp beauty that was this amazing snowfield, instead he apparently had eyes for nothing right now as it looked as if he was sleeping. Carefully Yoongi stalked closer, like a predator eyeing his prey.

It didn’t take long for Namjoon’s chin to slip from his hand, making him jerk up in a sudden realization that he had fallen asleep. He looked around, his breath quickened and then Namjoon saw Yoongi stalking him. Rubbing his hands together to get the warmth back into them, he chuckled softly at him. “You’re cute, Yoongi!” Namjoon pointed at him, “Your white fur looks perfect next to the snow. Are you hungry? How late is it?” He quickly pulled his bag closer, searching for his phone. They only had a limited amount of time in the dome before they needed to prepare it for tomorrow’s business. 

Yoongi immediately tried to loosen his stance but Namjoon had already seen him - and worse he had called him ‘cute’! Yoongi couldn’t help the pout that was forming on his face. 

He was a wild predator, damnit!

“I might take a bite of human, just for a snack,” He answered just because and crossed his arms. “And I have no idea what time it is. But you can leave me here all day!”

Namjoon couldn’t help but smile brightly at that, ignoring the first comment on purpose and just got out something to drink for Yoongi anyways. “I’d love to really…but when it’s open it’s full of people here and unfortunately they have to get the dome ready for tomorrow. Did you build something maybe? Want to show me before we go?” Namjoon asked and quickly added, “Oh and I already asked Jin if you can come here again and he said ‘yes’ as long as you don’t break something.”

“No I didn’t built something.” Of course he had buried himself under a heap of snow at some point but he definitely wouldn’t show Namjoon that. He pouted even harder at the thought of humans running all over the snow, trampling the crisp, untouched surface and ruining its beauty. He sighed deeply. At least he had been so lucky to have the full dome to himself today. He huffed offendly. “What exactly am I supposed to break here, hm? The snowflakes? The funny thing is if you look a little more closely it’s always humans who break things: they cut the trees and poison the lakes and asphalt streets without giving a damn of what was there before! But sure, ask me to be careful.” He walked off, grabbing a hand full of snow and putting it into his pocket in a desperate attempt to keep a little of this feeling with him.

“I didn’t want to anger you, Yoongi. I was just repeating what Jin said,” Namjoon said, hoping to calm the suddenly furious hybrid again. He chuckled at Yoongi’s behavior quietly enough for him not to hear and closed his laptop to stuff it back into his bag. Namjoon sighed in content, when he could feel the warm breeze on his cheeks again and he closed his eyes for a second. He quickly brought the keys back into Jin’s office and drove them back home. 

Spending the day in the snow dome had made Namjoon feel even more tired, even though he hadn’t been moving all day but typing and calling customers while watching Yoongi run around.

“Is it okay for you, if I go to bed a little earlier… I have a house viewing tomorrow. It’s an important customer,” Namjoon asked as he untied the scarf around Yoongi’s neck again and putting it back into the drawer. “You can just go and eat whenever or watch TV if you want to. Read…or walk into the garden. Just don’t forget to close the door again.” Namjoon yawned, hiding it behind the palm of his hand. 

Yoongi shook his head. Of course he didn’t have a problem with it if Namjoon went to bed early as it only meant that he had even more time for himself. Then his ears perked up. “The garden? You will let me go out alone?” If he was lucky then maybe he could even hunt himself something fresh. “Are there mice? Should I hunt us some?”

Namjoon just nodded, “I told you that I won’t force you to do anything. I just asked for you to look at Taehyung’s farm first, where you can be safe and free, before running away.” He was just about to turn, when he looked at Yoongi again. “That’s nice of you.” Namjoon was actually fond that Yoongi had thought about him, too, “But I’m not really into mice…but I bet you’ll find some…especially right by the garden house.” Once more, Namjoon had to fight the urge to ruffle through Yoongi’s hair. 

Yoongi shrugged, "No mouse for you then." He had figured that Namjoon would like some extra meat but if you had some in store at home that was already ready to be eaten then you could be picky. It hit Yoongi like a little jolt when he realized that he didn't have to hunt as well, at least not for the next few days. Namjoon had said that he could eat when he was hungry… so maybe he would just pay the mice a little visit and stare at them.

...

They fell into a comfortable rhythm. 

Namjoon trusted him completely and gave him as much freedom as he could so Yoongi didn’t feel the need to run away any longer. He had decided that he would believe Namjoon and give this Taehyung person a chance. If it turned out that it was just some version of a private hybrid zoo then he could still bolt, but until then he enjoyed the comforts that living with Namjoon brought: He had a bed that came as close to a den as human bedding could, he had food whenever he wanted and Namjoon let him choose freely what to eat (he didn’t turn up his nose at him when Yoongi chose to eat his eggs raw every once in a while  - raw egg yolk made for a shiny fur - but also included him whenever he made food and this way Yoongi had found out that he enjoyed human food a lot. All the spices and fancy things that he had never tasted before were really fun to try. It had become a little game as Namjoon tried to come up with things Yoongi might enjoy but had never heard off before) and most important: Namjoon never ever treated him as a pet. 

He didn’t punish him, he didn’t try to train him, he didn’t even use a collar on him after he had realized how much Yoongi hated to wear one. He also never used the leash on his neck. They clipped it onto Yoongi’s belt loop under the jacket so that it didn’t really show where it was coming from whenever they went out and had to walk through crowded spaces. If he was really honest it made him feel better not worse to have the leash on him like this because he could pull Namjoon closer to him him just as it was the other way round when he got overwhelmed by too many people. And with his leash he also didn’t need to be afraid of running into policemen and be hinted again. Though he preferred spending time with one human at maximum. Namjoon. 

He had also found the mice in the garden house as Namjoon had told him and he had become fond of them. In a way they lived pretty similar; formerly wild animals who had become habitants of the city, living among humans and eating their food while still being a free spirit at heart. If Namjoon had noticed that there were a few extra slices of cheese missing then he hadn’t mentioned it.

There was just one thing that was really unpleasant: Namjoon’s nightmares. 

Yoongi had gotten used to waking up in the middle of the night. Namjoon didn’t always scream. Sometimes he just whimpered or turned in his bed over and over because he couldn’t fall asleep for more than a few minutes. Some nights he gave up after a while, roaming around until they eventually meet in the kitchen. Those nights were often followed by lazy days filled with movies and snacks and lounging around. Yoongi had found out that kitten brushes were perfect for grooming sensitive parts like fox ears and he loved to brush his tail when he kept Namjoon company in the living room. Sadly he could practically see how Namjoon got worse. He became unconcentrated, started to forget things. From all the coffee he drank his smell became a little bitter and Yoongi didn’t like it. He could see the exhaustion in the shadows under the humans eyes, the paleness of his skin, the way his smile got a little strained. He wondered for how long Namjoon would be able to go on like this.

Rubbing his eyes again, Namjoon blinked them open staring at the bright screen of his laptop to decipher the words. But no matter how hard he was trying it felt like they were blurring into one. Yawning deeply, he stretched his tired limbs, getting interrupted by another phone call. “How can I help you, Miss Jung?” Namjoon answered, knowing the number by heart (an old lady that rented an apartment from him and always had something to complain about). He smiled at Yoongi as the hybrid jumped back into the living room, obviously happy about having the space of the garden, as he got up to get some more of the frozen fruits he had bought on his way home from a house viewing. Filling them up in a small bowl, Namjoon was putting the phone between his shoulders and ears, trying to hum in understandment. Honestly, the old lady was just as alone as he was...so he understood in a way, not really being mad that she would call him almost every other day. He placed the bowl in front of Yoongi, who had made himself comfortable on his pillows again. 

“Here, I got you only the best forest fruits,” He whispered and then added a little louder into the speaker of the phone, “No, Miss Jung I was talking to a friend.” The phone call took even longer than he had expected and Namjoon was pacing a little, trying to get other things done while he was listening to her complaints about the neighbours. When he passed Yoongi though, who was eating so cutely his fruits, sitting on the floor, Namjoon couldn’t help himself but ruffle through his hair instinctively, scratching him lightly behind his ears for a second and then walked ahead, not realizing what he had done. 

Yoongi’s eyes widened as the fruit fell out of his mouth and his spine straightened automatically. He blinked in confusion. Whenever a human had touched him before his first instinct had always been to recoil, disgust and nausea bubbling up. This time however he had perked up as if he wanted to lean into Namjoon’s touch. His scalp tingled from where Namjoon had scratched him at the spot behind his ears... it had felt way too good! He stared at Namjoon in confusion as if the other could explain this to him while wiping over his ear a few times. It didn’t help. Namjoon’s gentle scratches had felt way better than his own touch. He huffed indignantly and stuffed his mouth full of berries to have something other to do than stare at his human.

Namjoon came back, finally putting the phone back on the table and looked at Yoongi with furrowed brows. The other had red spots all over his white fur, his cheeks looking puffed as he stared back at him. “Don’t eat too much, Yoongi or else you get a stomach ache…or choke on it.” Namjoon chuckled, “You’ve got fruit juice all over yourself.”

Talking back wasn’t an option with his mouth stuffed so he just grumbled unintelligibly, clutching the bowl tighter to himself as if to say ‘they are still mine and I will eat them even if I have to do it slowly’. After chewing thoroughly (he would never just swallow something so deliciously down in own gulp), he shrugged his shoulders. “I have a fox stomach. We can practically eat anything.” He refused to mention the fruity spots on his fur but he tried to wipe them off without seeing them, using his tongue - which kinda made it worse.

Namjoon shook his head softly, chuckling at the way Yoongi was only making it worse. Pushing himself up from the couch, he got a towel from the smaller bathroom downstairs and moistened it with lukewarm water. Getting back to Yoongi, who showed off the empty bowl proudly to him, Namjoon smiled and kneeled in front of him. “Let me help you with that or else you get it everywhere else on your cheeks and paws. I don’t know how you did it but you have some red spots on your ears, too.” He couldn’t help but grin, showing off his dimples, as he reached out for Yoongi slowly. The hybrid didn’t hiss at him, nor did he growl, so Namjoon simply began to clean his cheeks softly, careful not to hurt him. He was cleaning him thoroughly though, making Yoongi tilt his chin up with a touch of his hand, knowing how much the hybrid loved his white fur to be spotless and absolutely perfect.

Yoongi didn't hiss or react because at first he simply had no idea what Namjoon wanted from him and when it dawned on him that the human was about to clean him it was too late. 

"It's fine I can..." He was stunned into silence when Namjoon started to clean his face, so gently as if he was the kitten Namjoon had been prepared for. He just stared at the other, too overwhelmed to do anything else - until he was starting to go for his ears. They flattened immediately against his head, away from the humans hands. They were very sensitive and just the thought of Namjoon touching them roughly chased a shiver down his spine. He had been so gentle with him until now though and even at this moment he didn't just reach out further to get his ears back up, instead he just waited until the perked again, slowly and carefully. He kept eye contact with Yoongi the whole time which made it feel so intimate that Yoongi had to look away to hide his rosy cheeks. The touch on his ears had him shuddering again, but in a good way and without thinking he leaned his head in Namjoons direction to give the other better access.

Namjoon reacted on instinct, caressing the hybrids ears softly making a smile appear on his lips. He’d never thought that Yoongi would let him come this near, or even let him caress through his fur. A painful ache made him awfully aware of them parting soon, though and Namjoon pulled back. “There...all clean, now.” Yoongi was almost disappointed that Namjoon was so quick and efficient. He was really good at this, with a steady hand and gentle but firm touches… so good actually that Yoongi found himself thinking about how he could make Namjoon caress his ears again. Without making it too obvious how much he liked it of course, he had to keep his face.

Namjoon’s smile wavered a little, as he got the bowl and brought it back into the kitchen. Trying to occupy his mind, Namjoon started to clean the dishes, desperately avoiding the thought of being alone soon again when Yoongi decided that Taehyung would be the better solution...or being on his own again, if he deemed it not enough there, because Namjoon definitely wasn't the place he wanted to stay. Yoongi had made that clear a couple of times. A plate slipped from his hands and shattered on the floor and Namjoon cursed himself, quickly cleaning it up again so Yoongi wouldn’t hurt his paws or anything. Since the other had been living here, he’d always made sure to clean his floors thoroughly as the arctic fox loved to sit and lay on the floor whenever he wanted to. He finished his task quickly, ignoring the constant nagging at the back of his mind. 

Although it had been a nice encounter for Yoongi, at the end Namjoon behaved strangely. Something was off and Yoongi didn’t know what it was, if it might have been something that he had done wrong or if Namjoon simply didn’t feel well. It worried him. And when Namjoon broke the plate he was on his feet right away, ready to help or make it better - but then he didn’t know what to do or what to say and so he sat back down, worrying his bottom lip and feeling helpless. 

“Good night, Yoongi!” Namjoon called out before he made his way upstairs, the urge to just fall asleep and ignore everything else sounded better than to think about the reasons why no one wanted to stay with him, why he wasn’t good enough and always ended up alone. He was like a robot, as he got into the shower, did his usual night routine and then laid down in bed, staring up at the white ceiling. Biting down onto his bottom lip hard, Namjoon turned to curl in on himself. It was so stupid, all of it, the thoughts, the doubts. He knew that. Which made it even worse, because he felt childish, selfish and alone. 

Yoongi didn’t go to bed right away when Namjoon had told him ‘good night’ instead he switched off the TV and listened, hoping that Namjoon would be able to sleep a little better this night.

Namjoon got up again and into the bathroom and then walked out only moments later because he couldn’t stand to see his own face right now. Then he took a book from his desk nearby, trying to get comfortable, pushing the cushions around but nothing wanted to stay like he wanted to. Nothing worked. Not even the cushions wanted to stay at their stupid, fucking, dumb place. Namjoon groaned in anger and let himself fall onto his back, finding himself staring back at the ceiling again. He sniffled quietly, wiping over his cheek angrily when he felt something wet on them. 

Yoongi’s ears moved constantly, following every movement that his human did upstairs, getting up, laying down again... he felt dizzy just listening to this. How on earth wasn’t Namjoon so exhausted that he had no other choice than fall asleep? He half expected to see Namjoon get down the stairs to join him in the kitchen in a little midnight-talk when it suddenly got quiet. Apparently the sleep must have won over the human after all. Content Yoongi got up from his place in front of the TV and got himself ready for bed as well. 

Namjoon reached for a cushion and hugged it tight, hiding his own face in the soft fabric to stifle his sobs that seemed to overwhelm him out of a sudden. He was tired and exhausted. Namjoon sobbed. One painful gasp, before he tried to hide himself while curling in and closing his eyes. If he just pressed his eyelids tightly enough he’d fall asleep – he was sure of it.  

The fox was about to get comfortable in his den when a miserable sound made him still. He listened intently, trying to decipher if it had just been a little sleepy snuffle or if there was something wrong with Namjoon. He was just about to lay his head back down when he heard it again. And this time there was no doubt about it: Namjoon was crying. It surprised him, how much it hurt him to hear the human cry. He had tried to not let it get too close to him when hybrids were sad in the pet shop and when he couldn‘t be cold and detached he had figured that it was because they were so similar to him. But Namjoon was human, and yet here he was, heart aching just from listening to a few of his choked off sounds, knowing that he was up there, feeling lost and lonely and desperate enough to give into his tears. Yoongi tried to curl in on himself more tightly and ignore it, to let Namjoon have his privacy but there was no way that he could fall asleep like this. It weighed heavy on his conscious and after a short little while he gave up and got back on his feet. Asking Namjoon if he was okay couldn‘t hurt. It was dark and it was late so if Namjoon wanted to keep his feelings private then he could just tell him to leave and they could both pretend that none of this had happened. Yoongi quietly got up the stairs on bare feet (feeling a little too cold for his comfort) before he finally reached Namjoon‘s bedroom. He hadn‘t been in there before and now that he was right in front of it he hesitated, not sure if it would be overstepping his boundaries with Namjoon. “Can I come in?” His voice was barely a whisper and yet in the sudden silence it felt way too loud.

Namjoon jerked in surprise, sitting up quickly and wiped over his cheeks to get rid of any tears left. But his red, puffy eyes still gave him away. “Y-yeah, sure…,” He tried a smile when there was light coming in from where Yoongi stood in the doorway. “Do you need anything? Did the air cooler stop again? I-I can try and fix it.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine. But you’re not.” Carefully he slipped under the covers, pulling his tail along so every part of him stayed warm. Then he inched closer towards Namjoon, slow enough that the other could bolt if he wanted or tell him to stop (because that’s what Yoongi would have wanted if he had been in Namjoon’s situation) and when nothing came he stretched out right next to to him. The human looked still tense and uncomfortable so Yoongi turned the other’s face towards him and started cleaning him to make him feel at ease.

Namjoon completely stiffened up in surprise, his eyes wide and body froze when Yoongi simply licked over his cheeks. “Y-yoongi,” He gazed at his hybrid and couldn’t help but tear up even more pulling him away from his face to look at him thoroughly. He sniffled softly, as he couldn’t help but cry again, “What are you doing?”

“I’m helping you to clean up your tears,” He stated as if it was obvious and the most natural thing in the world to do. He leaned forward again to reach the others cheek and licked over the reddened skin, getting rid of all the salty tracks on it. His tongue was a little rough even though Yoongi was gentle and so Namjoon’s face reddened even more. The fox nosed along Namjoon’s jaw when he was finished, sniffing at where his skin was the most delicate and Namjoon’s smell the strongest. “Are you sad because you can’t sleep?”

Namjoon hesitated to answer and instead leaned against the bed frame, to get himself more time. “I’m sad about a lot of things. But sleep is one of them…but it’s kind of an endless circle. I can’t sleep because I’m sad, then that makes me even more sad, you know?” He shrugged his shoulders, “I tend to overthink everything and I’m very stressed out recently.” Namjoon bit his lip, not being able to hide how his eyes were tearing up again but he blinked against it trying not to cry. “And I am sad that you will go soon…but I am also very happy for you.” Reaching out for Yoongi, a faint smile played on his lips that only faltered when he realized what he was about to do. “Oh, I’m sorry.” Namjoon quickly pulled his hand back. 

“Hmm..” Yoongi bit his lip. If he was getting overwhelmed then he just let his instincts take over knowing that they would help protect him and do what was best for the fox. But it wasn’t like he could tell that to Namjoon as the other was merely human. He had no idea how humans made themself feel better. “Well you can visit me there. You’ll always be welcome if you bring fruits,” He nodded encouragingly, not realizing that Namjon couldn’t see as good as he could in the dark. If Namjoon didn’t have a fox side that he could rely on - then Yoongi would just treat him like a fox and hope that it would help him too. “No overthinking tonight. We will get comfortable now and then you will sleep and tomorrow you feel better. Maybe you’re inside too much. I always feel restless when I’m without nature for too long. You should go for a run in the park. A forest would be best but I don’t think you have those here. And if this doesn’t help then I’ll clean you, just like you did with my ears. You’ll see it’s really nice for destressing.” Content Yoongi lied back down next to Namjoon. “Are you ready to try sleeping again?”

“I will,” Namjoon spoke softly, “I will visit you a lot if you want me to. And I’ll take you to the snow dome from time to time, okay?” He chuckled at Yoongi’s orders but just did as he said. Laying down beside him, Namjoon sighed deeply and pulled the blanket a little closer around the hybrid and gave him a cushion of his. “Yoongi?” His voice was only a whisper, “Do you mind if I…I’ll be gentle…”

Yoongi huffed, “I’m not made of glass, you don’t need to be gentle.” Seeing such a vulnerable side of Namjoon had him feeling more secure... and also strangely protective. “I sleep best when I‘m curled up but we can still share your bed. Maybe the extra warmth helps you sleep.” He turned around so that his back was towards Namjoon, inching closer until the other could reach for him easily and then curled in on himself so that his knees where up and he could bury his face into the fur of his own tail how he liked it. „I won‘t mind if you want put your face against my ears. I think it‘s most comfortable to sleep against fur. Maybe it makes you feel safe too.“

Namjoon only smiled at that, pulling the hybrid into his embrace and curled up around him, doing exactly what he had offered: nuzzling his face against his ears. It was unbelievable to Namjoon, how soft Yoongi was on the inside and the more he was opening up, the more he understood the fox and why he had been so scared in the beginning. Again, Namjoon wanted to cry – but out of different reasons. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and closed his eyes, hoping that no bad dream would wake him tonight. He didn’t want Yoongi to get hurt if he might roll around or get scared by him talking in his sleep. The hybrid got used to another body close to him pretty quickly and he sighed happily when Namjoons solid presence had warmth seeping through his skin. He could get used to sleeping comfortably like this…

Surprisingly he wasn’t the only one to enjoy this as he didn’t wake for quite a while until the sun was rising again. Only when his tail accidentally got in the way did he blink awake sleepily, only to find the human still asleep. He looked almost cute like this, relaxed and soft and Yoongi had to hold onto him to not lean forward and lick his face again.

A/N: Only one more chapter left! Thank you for all the nice comments we received on this story! Cat and I always are so happy ;; You guys make us so happy!!! Oh and if you haven’t yet then check out the new trailer that we just posted for the upcoming Geisha!AU!

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[everything-person]

Not All Talk part 2

Summary: Best friends plan their lives together from time to time. It’s all pretend, just for fun. Until its not.

You can read the first part here.

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Emma dropped the last box on the floor. She stretched her aching muscles before collapsing on the couch letting her legs dangle over the arms.

"We still have unpacking to do, love." Killian leaned over the back of the couch, looking down on his best friend.

"We can do that tomorrow," she replied with out even opening her eyes.

"Then we have to at least organize the furniture."

"Let's do it tomorrow."

"Is tomorrow going to be your answer for everything?"

"Ask me tomorrow."

Killian let out a huff before rounding the couch and plopping down next to her head. He looked around the space. It was small place but it was theirs. "We finally did it. We moved out and got an apartment. We are now roommates."

"Yup. And I say as our first day in our apartment we have done enough work and should take the rest of the day enjoying our place."

Killian smiled. "There's a sandwich shop down the street. How about we grab lunch?"

"That sound great," Emma replied sitting up.

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

"Swan!"

Emma looked up from the book, she's been trying to study. She heard footsteps coming her way before Killian opened her door leaning on her doorway. "I thought you were going to do the dishes today?"

"Oh yeah. Sorry. I'll do them tomorrow."

"You said that yesterday, love."

"I'm sorry. My classes have been picking up and work is crazy-"

"Forget it lass. It's okay." Killian left closing the door without looking at her.

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

"Killian!"

Killian heard his name over the sound of gunfire coming from the tv. He averted his gaze from his show to see Emma emerge from her bedroom and make the short walk to the living room. Pausing his show he asked, "Swan?"

"Can you keep it down?"

Killian raised a questioning eyebrow at this. He didn't think it was that loud.

"Come on, Jones. I'm trying to take a nap before my shift. You don't need the volume on 40."

"Lass I only have it to 25. If I turn it down I won't be able to hear them talking."

"Can't you watch it later then?"

"I'm in the middle of an episode. Let me finish this then I'll turn it off."

"Fine," Emma huffed returning to her room. Killian didn't turn it off after one episode.

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

"SWAN!"

Emma nearly dropped her laptop on the floor at the sound of her name. She looked up to find a wet Killian standing at the entrance of the hallway wearing nothing but a towel clutched around his hips. "What the hell Killian?"

"Did you by any chance take a shower today?"

Emma's face scrunched up in confusion. "Yeah. I took a shower."

"You couldn't be bothered to inform me you used all the hot water. Again."

"How was I suppose to know? The water was still warm when I got out."

Killian looked like he was going to say more but stoped himself. He let out an aggravated sigh while pinching the bridge of his nose. Dropping his hand he looked back at her, "How about just warn me everytime you take a shower?"

With that he went back to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

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

"JONES!!"

His head snapped up from the book he was reading at the sound of his name. Only a fews seconds later Emma burst in the door.

"Where did you put the mail that was on the counter?"

"I put it in the bin. It was all junk mail."

"My check was in that pile," Emma screeched.

Killians eyes widen slightly, realizing his mistake. "Oh."

"Stop cleaning shit up! This is like the fifth thing of mine you've 'cleaned up' and has been thrown away or just disappeared."

"Swan it's just in the recycling."

"That's not the point." Emma left the room slamming the door.

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

"SWAN!"

Emma jolted awake. Her heart racing at the sudden wake up call. Once she heard her bedroom door slamming open she sat up, turning toward her roommate.

"Did you eat the rest of the fish Nemo brought over?"

"What?"

"Did you eat the fish Nemo brought over?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I was planning on eating that. I've been looking forward to it all day."

"I'm... sorry?"

"Ha I've heard that one before."

"What do you want from me? I ate it, it's gone."

"Next time ask. Or at the very least warn me that my food is gone."

Emma rolled her eye and turned over laying back down with her back to him. She heard him huff before closing the door leaving her room.

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

"We barely see each other. Killian is always either working at the docks or at the bar. I'm at class or working. But when we are home together one of us is mad at the other. All we do is fight." Emma explained to her adoptive mom. Ruth placed a mug of hot chocolate with cinnamon in front of her while she herself enjoyed a cup of tea. "Oh and he has this mysterious girlfriend, he refuses to talk about."

"It's only been a couple months, Honey. Give it time. You two are still learning how to live with each other," Ruth calmly said, deciding to ignore that last comment.

"We have been talking about living together forever and known each other for longer. You'd think we know how irratating the other was by now."

"Emma." Ruth didn't say anything until Emma looked up at her, "Talking is the easy part, doing is a whole different thing. Killian is still the same boy you knew before but now you're just seeing a different side. Now it might not be one you always agree with but you have to decide can you live with it."

Emma knew she was right, but she didn't know what to say. Thankfully Ruth changed subjects, "so tell me about this Graham fellow."

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

Killian offered to help Nemo on his boat, they were well away from the shore when Nemo asked about Emma. Killian was in the midst of airing his grievances to his uncle when he was cut off. "Killian you need to calm down and take a step back. This is Emma you're talking about."

"Aye and she right infuriating lass. She's so damn stubborn and nonchalant-"

"And she was like that before you decided to move in together," Nemo said cutting him off again.

Killian stopped at that. He knew that but roommates was so different then just being friends. It was a change Killian wasn't prepared for.

Nemo came up to him and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I know it's been difficult. But you have to ask yourself, what is important? Living shipshape or living with Emma?"

When Killian didn't answer Nemo changed subjects, "Come on let's get back to shore."

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

Killian was walking back to the apartment in deep thought. He thought about what Nemo said and he thought of all the arguments he and Emma had. They definitely needed to talk.

He unlocked the door hoping to find Emma home so they could try to work somethings out. But when he opened the he found more than what he was hoping for. Emma was sitting on the couch with a towel bundled up in her lap and if he looked close enough he swore he saw the towel breathing.

Emma looked up at him giving him a soft smile. "Hey," she all but whispered.

"Hey." He pointed to the towel. "What's that love?" Almost as soon as he asked a soft 'mew' was heard come from the towel. Killian walked over, leaning in to see a tiny kittens face poke out of the towel.

"I found him when I took out the garbage. I heard him crying, I thought he was hurt but when I found him and crouched down he came right up to me and started licking my fingers and head butting my hand. I looked for mom or any signs of other kittens but I couldn't find any. I brought him in and cleaned him up in the sink. I was drying him off when he fell asleep," Emma explained.

Killian couldn't take his eyes off the little creature. He couldn't have been more then two, maybe three weeks old. "Have you fed him yet?" When Emma shook her head he got up and went to the cupboard. He found a can of tuna, opening it up he dumped it on a plate mushing it up a bit more before placing it on the island separating the kitchen and the living room.

"Put him up here, love." Emma picked up the towel with the kitten inside carrying him the short distance to the island. Once placed up there she freed him from fabric. Seeing the food the small animal walked on wobbly legs slowly making its way. When he was close enough he layed down again half on the plate half off. They watched as his little tongue licked at the food occasionally taking a bit of food in his mouth.

Killian spoke first, "we should take him to the animal shelter in the morning they have a vet that can look him over and proper food for him."

Emma just nodded in response. She didn't dare take her eyes off the poor little creature. But Killians next question made her.

"We should decide if we are going to keep him or not before we do."

Emma darted from her friend to the fuzzy creature on the island between them back to her friend. "Well, he isn't the fox we agreed on but he's awfully cute. I'm okay if he stays."

"I thought 'cats were mean'." Killian threw her words back at her with a smirk never leaving his face.

"He's not a cat. He's a kitten," she said matter of factly reaching forward scratching the kittens head lightly.

"He's going to need a name. If it even is in fact a he."

"How about Todd or Foxy if he turns out to be a she," Emma offered. Killians smile was his only answer.

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

The next day while Todd was getting checked out the roommates had a talk. They told each other what bothers each other, little pet peeves the other does. They made a set of rules and both agreed to try harder at living together. As days turned to weeks and weeks turned to a month things got better. Besides Todd growing, nothing eventful happened.

Until one night Killian came home drunk. Emma was mindlessly watching tv when he stumbled through the front door. That was the night he told her about Milah. His mysterious girlfriend was apparently a married woman who visited him at the bar. That night she came to the bar ending whatever relationship they had. “The whole thing was ridiculous really,” he said when finished.

Emma stared at her friend for a moment as the sat on their couch. She was facing him her legs tucked under her with her arm leaning in the back of the couch supporting her head. “Thats not ridiculous. You want to hear ridiculous?” Emma went on to tell him all that conspired between her and Graham. How she encouraged him to leave his abusive girlfriend. When he did and came to her, she got scared and ran away.

“Seems as if we have drifted quiet bit lass.” 

“Yeah. We have.”

“Well thats going to change. Every... What day is it?”

“Sunday.”

“Right. Every Sunday, I say we order in and have a movie night. Just roomates. What do you say love?”

“I say the sandwich shop is open 24/7.”

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

It was one such movie night when it happened. They were all sitting on the couch. Todd in Emmas lap, Emma leaning into Killian with her head on his shoulder. The movie playing was some ridiculous rom com, both of them too comfortable to be bothered to grab the remote and change it.

“What kind of date would you take me on?” Emma asked suddenly.

“What?”

“What kind of date would you take me on? We always talked about our kids, and we planned our wedding. We even made up our Disney themed apartment. But you never told me what kind of dates we would go on.”

Killian thought for a moment before he answered, “Our first date I would take you to a nice restraunt. Then I think a nice walk by the water, maybe even taking you out on Nemo’s boat. How does that sound?”

Emma lifted her head to look at him, “That sounds nice.”

Killian looked at his roommate, his best friend. Looking into her shining green eyes he realized he never wanted anything more than to take her out for dinner as more than friends. He was silently hoping maybe she would want the same when Emma spoke up. 

“I would picked have you.”

“I would have chased after you”

Emma leaned forward pressing her lips against his. He kissed her back. When they broke apart she said “what would our second date look like?” 

Killian smiled and replied, “That is a surprise.” Before kissing her again.

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And thats all she wrote. Hope this is a decent “sequel” there will be a third part to this story. Also this second part is dedicated to @superchocovian hope you enjoy. 

[lady-o-ren]

Just Between Lovers

A/N: I rambled hard to the core this chapter (mistakes will be had!) so for an easier reading experience here’s the Ao3 link (x). I write under Soloh over there so don’t think you’re reading something different.

Previously

Chapter Five

Jamie

There was something different with Claire, that Jamie knew. Throughout class that day with the wee ones, he had tried to puzzle out what had shaken Claire so. Jamie knew it wasn't a matter of her being cross with him like when he admired her ever growing arse for the fat, sweet thing it was. Aloud. Her revenge at the time had been to bite his lip sore, most pleasantly as he recalled.

 So Jamie brought forth memories of the day before, seeking whatever signs of disturbance that he'd obviously missed with his Sassenach.

 A morning where the burn of desire had awoken them with need - hands roaming over warm supple skin, fingers enticing one to a gasp, teasing the other to a moan while mouths marked tender flesh to a glowing blush until finally, with breath and hearts heaving as one, they melted to one another in a shared bliss. He, nestled in the soft curve of his hearts shoulder as she, threaded her fingertips through his dampen locks - twisting and smoothing.

 A lost cause the both of them.

 Reluctantly they had parted from their world beneath the covers, where Jamie haltingly whispered about having perhaps created a sprig of life that had Claire shy and beaming. He then fed her a breakfast that wasn't the spackle of dry cereal she preferred eating by the handful and sent off his Sanasachd with a thorough kiss to keep her warm from the sharp slap of the Scottish wind. He remembered Claire was heavy lidded in her whisky eyes as she left, but it was coupled with a smile of excitement for work she found so fulfilling and a flush of cheeks at being well loved by him that Jamie knew his own face mirrored as well.

 Jamie then dove towards the end of that day, when he met Claire after a long shift, both tousled haired and huddled together under a bright starry sky. Her brown curls were slowly escaping from her bun and soon her hair tie would be lost forever as another battle would be lost to the sightly kraken on her head. An observation that earned him a hard pinch at the ribs and her, the final tug to free the beast he adored so very much.

 They talked of his sister, Jenny - Jamie had crossed himself just thinking about her out in the unforgiving, bleak expanse of the ocean in nothing but the smallest of sailing boats - How there was still no word from her and Ian if they had made it to South Africa yet. Claire had pulled him by his coat and told him to stop his bloody worrying, Jenny could calm a tsunami with nothing but a glare. There was nothing to fear. She kissed him then, loving and long, leaving all his worries to the wind whipping around them.

 They walked home happy.

 To bed again filled with love.

 No, it wasn't that, Jamie had thought. Nothing there to explain the change her.

 His mind then spiraled to the last time Claire looked despondent, exhausted with more then just fatigue. Was there a moment where her heart ached and he didn't see? He was consumed with her until exhaustion overtook him, waking on the couch to her sullen face that he tried to put a smile to and failed as she spoke of feeling lost. A lass with a glass face, to not know she had felt such a way had shamed him and all Jamie could do was hold her in his arms.

 He only wished there was more he could do.

 Now, as a brand new day began, Jamie wondered if Claire was on the mend. She sat in front of him, frizzled with sleep still clinging to her and red of cheek as she was now prone to be of late. But then she gave him a look of keen interest that sparked a hope that her troubles were maybe past. He had made up his mind to at the very least distract her from her thoughts, whatever they may be.

 Jamie was very good at that.

 ________

 Claire

 I was surprised I was able to sleep with him so close, but not as near as the morning before. The dark patch gracing him from groin to hip had Jamie splayed on his back and me off to the side of a still foreign bed. Room. Home. When we parted I felt the loss of his embrace where I had surrendered to fear and heartache that he so easily cast away. A touch gently behind my ear, a rhythmic stroke from neck to back that had me sinking further to the heat at his breast - the slow steady thump of his heart that whispered to my own and all the while soothing me with incomprehensible speech.

 But in the quiet night, as I slipped in to bed, Jamie's eyes opened to mine, his palm crossing the distance, gentle and reassuring in my keeping and only then did I finally succumb to a dreamless slumber. As long as I trusted him I would find some semblance of peace here, I thought. That is untiI I woke to the sound of twin alarms. Mine I swatted, throwing a pillow over my head not yet ready to seize the day and find what awaited me. Either my recognisable Englishman, the Scotsman, or someone completely new, God help me.

 A groan of gaelic signaled where I was still and with who. No spell was broken at the stroke of midnight apparently. I felt myself sigh with either relief or frustration, I wasn't sure.

 With a shuffle of the mattress and walk around the room, I peeked through the narrow opening of my pillow and tangled streaks of hair and saw Jamie turned from me, digging for clothes that were quickly pilling in his fists. The shaft of bathroom light highlighted the line of his backbone running from the hard muscled contours of shoulders down to narrow hips that curved to a squared roundness. I quickly smothered my face to the soft linen as an absurd urge to giggle burned my throat while a sensation all too familiar coiled hot in my belly.

 Harmless, I told myself. Looking was completely harmless. I did worse in dreams and so did he. But now I could no longer blame an attraction or actions on the imaginary when it was very real and present before me. Where a casual observation could turn in to a tender kiss, that could push me flat against a tabletop completely at his mercy or hard and fast up against the wall. And then there was the bed...I pushed myself harder against the sheets until my lungs ached from lack of air. I didn't want to think about the rules and boundaries I was breaking in the world of what if I found myself in. I would figure something out. The only problem was would Jamie let me.

 "Where the hell….Och! There ye are wee bastard." Jamie mumbled to himself, pulling me from the laws morality as they turned and turned into a dizzying round.

 I lifted the pillow once more to see what the Scot was prattling on about. He was clothed now, but just barely. Trousers were attired and well fitted (my traitorous mind chimed in) and his arms were just slipping into a plaid button down when he caught my eye and replied with his ridiculous wink. His only genetic defect from what I could tell.

 "How did ye sleep, Sassenach?" Jamie stopped the fumbling of his buttons. He had promised not to press me further last night and gave only a cautious query to my being.

 "It was all well until my alarm and yours went off." Then to ease him I added, "Today is better. Not as clouded as before."

 "That's a start. And I hope your day gets brighter ever more." Jamie had answered with a cheek to cheek grin and sat at the edge of the bed beside me as he fiddled with the buttons once more. I sat up fully clothed in shirt and pajama bottoms. There would be no repeat of yesterday's lack of attire from me.

 "Why is a school teacher up this early, anyhow? Paint to refill? Blocks to rearrange? Pencils to sharpen?" I questioned, truly curious to how a big man like Jamie could be a primary teacher. I couldn't imagine Frank surrounded by bright-eyed youths teaching them their ABC's, sometimes not even if they were ou - I threw the line of thought away with a yank at a lock of tangled hair.

 "I wouldna sharpen a crayon for those wee gremlins." Despite his tone the fondness in his eyes betrayed him. "It's Laoghaire that has me up, remember?" Jamie smoothed his shirt down the front then frowned at the mismatched buttonholes.

 No. "Remind me." My anxious fingers were tackling the disarray of knots when I noticed his blue eyed gaze of affection towards my unruly nest that no one had ever looked at in such a way. I dropped my hands to my lap to pick at the fuzz dotting the fabric instead.

 "She's got to prep her room for her bitty ones, a birthday party, and she needs some help setting up her room as she's two months along now." He reached towards me, running his hand absentmindedly along my thigh and the rush of sensation at his touch did the opposite of soothing me this time.

 Would it be rude to just run to the bathroom again?

 Jamie continued, with an acute focus of a fox. "She still refuses to step on a ladder or bend over to pick a pencil fearin' the bairn will twist about and come out disjointed. Every one of us teachers has had to deal with her and now it's my turn. Though I dinna mind so much, she's a sweet thing just scairt is all."

 "Still," I shuffled underneath his touch that by reflex only made his grasp tighter and my pulse higher. "That doesn't mean you have to get up this early." Jamie's face softened and I realized it must have been a conversation argued before with him and other me.

 "I thought I'd make ye something resembling proper food. Then again - " Jamie looked appraisingly at me, "Ye do look a right mess this morning, mo nighean donn." He leaned in and I fell back against the headboard, bringing my knees to my chest.

 "I look like hell and if you so much as touch me we'll both be late for work." I did my best to give an authoritative presence, failing miserably as Jamie's hand found my waist, with a long finger slipping under my shirt, stroking at my skin.

 "Ye look like beauty itself my wee porpintine. I'll take the punishment here and now. Bullseye aim ye promised, aye?" His voice was husky as his palm traveled hot across my back, pushing me towards him where I tried once more to delay what was becoming the impossible and my heart skittered at the possibilities to be had if I couldn't.

 "Pull a muscle then, it will be another week of pain. Maybe an injection straight to the groin." My hands were locked at Jamie's forearm tight with muscle but I did nothing to push him away or bring him closer. It seemed my body was already bracing itself for a hard press of blazing Scot and excited at the prospect.

 "I believe I chose punishment, Sassenach." Before I could register his movements, Jamie drew my legs down with a squeak from me and a painful groan from him as he twisted his muscles sharply, falling to his side and taking me down along with him.

  "Dìmeas an olc eadar sinn!"

 "I warned you -"

 Jamie silenced me then with a throbbing kiss that coursed heavy in my blood, to the very tips of my fingers curled at his chest. From his throat to my lips rumbled a growl of cocky satisfaction and I responded by parting my mouth welcoming more.

 So much for bloody self-restraint and boundaries.

 We parted sharing the same gasp for air that caught in my throat as Jamie pressed his mouth to me again. Slowly this time, with a smile of scruff that scratched at my skin and a hand gripping my arse that had my teeth clasping around his bottom lip in retaliation. But that did little to stop him as he hummed in appreciation until I broke away.

 "You are very single-minded for a schoolteacher." I breathed, not bothering to feign being cross." I hope it was worth the pain."

 Jamie chuckled then jerked with a wince at the twinge he deserved both on his face and lower down. But despite the momentary pain he still sighed, Worth it, as he brushed the hair from my face and kissed my nose. "Anything to make ye smile. Now make yerself presentable Dr. Beauchamp and I'll make ye a bit to eat."

 As he left me to the kitchen, again with a hobble, I couldn't help but doubt my other selfs qualifications as a doctor if she had to deal with that man everyday. Then again, as I pressed my palms to my face there was indeed a smile painted wide and aching that cast out any feelings of guilt.

 Almost, anyway. But the smile lingered still, one I hadn't felt in so many months and that confused me even more.

 Dressed, I made my way to the kitchen, making a detour to the living room as Jamie began to croon off tune. I tried to figure out what was mine and his over the warbling. What piece of furniture was quibbled over and who won the fight. Was it with words or was it with manipulation masked in a kiss that christened the piece theirs under a woolen tartan throw?

 My hands passed over a wooden tabletop with photoframes of strangers and rolling hills of heather, before coming to a bookcase filled to the brim and well loved it seemed. There were books of more then just wars and history and novels of classic English literature. These spoke of poetry ranging from Burns and Tennyson, to Neruda and Frost with a well worn Silverstein that had seen better days.

 However, what I noticed most were the spines of faded brown leather, titles in french, classic greek and latin that had belonged to my Uncle Lamb all those years ago. As a child I would skim through these heavy books, memorizing the pages with the pictures and guessing at the secrets hidden away in their strange lettering, only ever having luck with the french. Now these books had markers scattered about between pages with perfectly written notations I still couldn't decipher. I wondered what type of scholar I was attached to in this universe that could read multiple languages, some being ancient, and next devour a shelf full of spandex wearing caped crusaders.

 _______

 After Jamie fed me, kissed me (I gave up trying to stop him), I loaded on to a rickety creak of a bus, late for work. I prepared myself for an even more formidable force then the one I could still feel along my waist and lips and even that final pinch of the arse. I prepared myself to see Geillis.

 I had gathered enough courage to dip into my history of this life through my mobile. While I hadn't quite the fortitude to look back into the vault of photos (though that was quickly changing) I had looked through the messages to figure if Geillis was still who I knew her as.

 Conversations where familiar. Centering on blaming each other over our indulgences of greasy food and drink, my bad taste in music and apparent trash opinions, her bad taste in all that was human - man, woman and once with Tom Christie.

 Pictures between us were numerous and random as always, but the new additions were of her only known weakness - animals. A blackbird that Geillis was convinced held a human soul within itself that had been visiting her windowsill and a neighbors dog she was very near to kidnapping, and almost succeeded in doing so too. All in the norm of who she was to me. Then there was the endless teasing of Jamie and ours relationship. No matter what Jamie was everywhere.

 As the bus came to a stop I began to feel the calming pull of the hospital A&E. The walls of white, the smell of bleach, the constant hum of ventilators to vending machines and always an overflow of patients in need.

 ______

 Only an hour passed before she found me.

 Where Jamie had the patience of a saint (as long as it didn't involve intimacy), Geillis was more the type to press your face against the floor, hair wrapped around her fist with a knee stabbing at the back. Information would be extracted by any means necessary. And as she cornered me in an empty hallway I had to remind myself that I took down a full grown man more then twice her size.

 "I called ye."

 "I know -"

 "I had to cover for ye."

 "Which I'm grateful for -"

 "Grateful she says!" Geillis scoffed. "After the day ye missed, you better have ridden yer Scots cock to damnation."

 "Christ, Geillis!" My face flushed as the hallway chose that moment to fill with people.

 "Oh ye did!" Her expression flipped with a waggle of her brows at me.

 "Still mad then?"

 "I can't afford to be. It's you or wee Mary I have to talk to and I scare the lass to a stuttering. Besides after terror that ye missed I own yer soul now. That's the deal." Geillis smiled sweetly, poking her finger right below my collarbone.

 "Is that all?" She nodded then pulled me flush to the wall to what I assumed was a collection of that debt, instead she asked -

 "Now tell me all the dirty details about yer red thatched schoolboy and dinna skimp."

 Her interest surprised me. She never wanted to know a sliver of a detail about mine and the professor's sex life. Only ever my dreams and apparently now of the living embodiment himself.

 "You like Jamie don't you?"

 "That's a funny thing to ask. I was the one that told ye the first time you met him, fuck the bastard filthy. And then as I recall, when you were 'bout to leave with a face of shocking depravity," she grinned approvingly, "I took ye by the ear and said have him fuck ye something unholy.

 "God Geillis." I couldn't help but laugh. "You are the little red devil on my shoulder aren't you?" I took a lock of her hair and twirled it up to resemble a horn.

 "I only ever tell ye what yer heart needs."

 "Maybe you are a witch?" Another silly theory that she could be the cause of it all had me chuckling.

 "If I were I'd have better luck." Geillis shook her head. "No vicious wee blonde who doesn't know what she wants or a man who wanted to see the world just no with me."

 "Oh Geillie -" my dearest friend was very much the same and like always it broke my heart.

 "Forget your man tonight, let's go out together." She said, stopping she would consider words of pity. "Who knows when will get another chance. Anyday now yell have a ring the size of a sapphire to go with the lads bonny blues."

 That was the final pound that my heart would except without proper alcohol.

 "I knew you'd be the death of me today, Geillie."

 ______

 Shift over, eyes heavy but a hungry stomach overriding everything, I walked out the hospital doors expecting to find Geillis waiting with impatience. I found Jamie sitting on a bench playing with his mobile instead.

 I wasn't expecting him to walk me home it was always a solitary trek unless Geillis came over. I didn't think to call, that I even needed to.

 I felt a soft push at my shoulders and turned to see Geillis' head on my shoulder.

 "Dinna fash." She mumbled with a kind smile directed at Jamie as he walked towards us. "Raincheck?"

 I didn't have a chance to answer, Jamie was with us in three long strides. He looked from her to me and gestured with his chin to Geillis.

 "Want to eat with us lass? My treat." He was earnest in his offer. He liked Geillis too and I felt myself grow warm towards him that had nothing to do with his appearance. I couldn't remember a time my other man had ever spoken to Geillis past civil conversation, except the few times of the same back and forth jabber about Jacobites. She would talk with passion and Frank, being an impartial judge of history, would join her. The only time I ever saw them agree on something.

 "Why not. A free meal and a cute ginger to carry me home when I'm too gone with drink to walk." She winked at me. Her plans wouldn't be changed.

 "Good. How 'bout something sloppy that spills off yer plate with grease for you two physicians?"

 "Perfect." Geillis cheered.

 As we walked I noticed Jamie's hair was speckled making it shimmer under the moonlight.

 "Wee Rabbie turned me to a unicorn today." He informed, swishing his hair back and forth in a sparkly drizzle to transform me as well.

 "All that's missing is the horn." I touched the spot on his forehead moving away a wavy lock of copper hair.

 "Not when we go home."

 "Didn't get yer fill yesterday, young buck?" Geillis teased up ahead leaving Jamie confused and me waving off her comment.

 After eating what Jamie described as, The kind of food ye only eat with someone ye love, we deposited a very comatose Geillis and went slowly with minor stumbling steps home.

 "So," Jamie ever so slightly slurred,"How has the ending of yer day been, Sassenach? Brighter I hope."

 I blame all the bottles we left on the table (mostly to temper myself from his ever constant touch) for my drunken slip of tongue. "Why must you call me all these names?"

 Jamie's mind wasn't as far gone however, and another warning sign flashed red for him.

 "Different ways to say I love ye, Claire." His voice sounded restrained and he kept his gaze ahead. Where my mind faltered my body made up for. Taking control without my bidding, my hand grasped his that he squeezed fierce and wrapped my other arm around him.

 I was starting to think he was a damn unicorn.

 Around the corner of home, there was a dribble of water, barely a puddle and I walked forward with no hesitation, daring it to send me to the upside down, forgetting Jamie's hold on me if it tried. He suddenly held me flush to his side, pulling me up and over the water, setting me down with utter ease.

 "No beasties today my Sassenach." Jamie kissed the top of my head leaving me in a daze of -

  What the hell did you say?

____

A/N:

*Sanasachd means healer. I didn't just majorly eff up Sassenach.

*Dìmeas an olc eadar sinn - damn the evil between us. Which I take as Frank.

*A million dollars to whoever remembers the wheel of morality

*The blonde that Geillis is referring to is Annalise.

FYI- In the witch and the red man story Geillis was supposed to be this feral witch who lived in the deep forest surrounded by bogs. Louise was her water nymph lover during the summer while her pet raven, who was really a man, was her lover during winter. So I put a smidge of that random background here for no other reason other than because I felt like it.

[scurvgirl]

The Princess Was Very Proper

Moar Fairy Tale AU!

Part One, Part Two

Worldbuilding

The next day, Adannar and Serahlin finish building the chicken coop and the rest of the day is spent introducing the chickens to their new home and Serahlin to the chickens. He teaches her how to care for the birds and sets up a little caravan of sorts to deliver feed from his home to hers. The mechanical creatures watch them as they handle the chickens, curious. Serahlin is still acclimating to the creatures and is still easily unnerved by them. But she’s polite and doesn’t say anything untoward. Adannar thinks it would take a great deal to make Serahlin break any sort of decorum.

She’s a proper lady, after all.

Days pass in a similar fashion. He comes and helps, and they talk. She’s still largely a mystery to him, and she doesn’t give much away other than she lived in a palace. So not just a lady, but potentially a princess.

After two weeks, Adannar shows up at the cottage, as usual, with a basket of breakfast. Serahlin is already awake and working on the garden they planted last week. She stands up to greet him and the hem of her skirt catches on a bramble, ripping it. Oh dear.

But Serahlin doesn’t look so much as disheartened as annoyed.

“These dresses are beautiful, Adannar, but I keep tearing them. I don’t suppose you have any breeches?” She hefts the skirts up to around her knees and walks awkwardly to Adannar.

“I do have breeches, I can fetch some if you’d like,” he offers, setting the basket of food down on the outside table they built a few days ago.

“Oh you don’t have to go now –

“It’s no trouble! I will leave you to breakfast and go fetch your breeches and then we can be about the day.” He doesn’t mind the running back and forth, or flying really, especially if it means Serahlin will continue to look at him like that. With kind gratitude, gracing him with a smile and a light expression he’s only recently been treated to. In the weeks Serahlin has spent here, she has grown from suspicious to politely reserved to happily smiling at him in greeting, not caring if she stumbles over a rock in the garden or not. It’s a surprising transformation, one that has endeared him greatly to her.

“I do know how to sew, the only practical thing I know, but I know it. If I just had cloth and needle –

“Really, Serahlin, it is no trouble. But I will bring you what you need to sew.” He opens the basket and pulls out a loaf of bread he baked through the night. She hesitates, and he knows he has her. Bread, any princess’s weakness.

He leaves her to her breakfast and rushes off to the glen where he can shift and fly quickly to his lair. He launched himself up into the air and travels at great speed. The wind is with him this morning and helps him along to the lone mountain.

He raids the wardrobes filled with clothes, taking out the slimmest of the breeches. Before the days of the knights and their propaganda, Adannar hosted researchers and other dragons. Sometimes at the same time. Both groups required changes of clothes and over the years, he accrued quite the collection. They’re mostly basic style leather breeches, a few cloth types, but the leather is better, it’ll provide better protection and wear for Serahlin as she traipses about her new home.

Adannar packs a bag then heads back, the bag delicately balanced on a claw. He lands back in the glen and shifts. He’s wearing breeches himself, today, along with a longer style tunic. He is in a good mood when he returns to Serahlin, but the smile on his face quickly disappears when he spies her terrified expression.

“Adannar!” She cries, running quickly to him. All sense of propriety must have left her in that moment, because she flings her arms around him in a crushing hug.

“Ser-Serahlin?” He asks, shocked at the sudden contact. He drops the bag and returns the hug, wrapping his arms around her slim body. It has been…a long time since he has had this much contact with someone with a beating heart. There are spirits, his creatures, but Serahlin is warm, solid, breathing. He feels her breath on him as she holds him tight.

“I saw that dragon and feared the worst! It was all I could do to hide in the cottage and hope for your safe return.” She holds onto him tight and her concern over him is so heartfelt and touching.

He leans into her touch, “The dragon does not bother me, but your concern and hugging is very welcome.” She stiffens at that and pulls back quickly, hands covering her mouth.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to impose! I was so relieved to see your return, I…I must have lost control,” she explains. Adannar laughs and gently takes her hands down from her face.

“There is no worry. It has been a long time since I’ve been touched, any surprise from it is good.” He holds her hands so that they are between his larger ones in a comforting way he once saw of elven researchers that were visiting him.

A blush colors Serahlin’s cheeks, “Still, I let my emotions overcome me. I would never have done this back home…”

“You are not there, you are safe to feel whatever you wish to feel here,” he explains.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, averting her gaze. She pulls her hands free of his and he lets her go without resistance. He can understand her being reluctant to be more open with him, that run and hug and sudden expression was so unlike the Serahlin he has come to know. But it was still her, just a her that wasn’t worried about expression or judgement.

“The clothes!” He remembers, grabbing the bag off the ground. He hands it over to her, “I hope at least one of them fit, if not…we’ll see about stitching something together that does.” She takes the bag and thanks him before darting into the cottage.

Adannar occupies himself by the chicken coop. No chicks, yet, those eggs still have a couple of weeks to hatch, but the rest of the chickens seem happy enough. They have a large enclosure, nice places for roosting – it’s good. They unfortunately can’t let the chickens be free range, too many foxes and other predators around to let them out. He reaches in the bag of feed and tosses it out to them. The birds flock to the food even though they’ve already been fed.

The back-door cracks open and Serahlin steps out, bedecked in her new tunic and breeches. Her hair is pulled into a braided bun and she looks ready to conquer the world. Or at least the forest.

When she first arrived, Adannar knew she was beautiful. Physical beauty is easy, however. There are many in this world who are beautiful. But she has shown to be so much more than that. She is compassionate, tenacious, and despite her upbringing, not arrogant or condescending.

Buoyed by the emotions she brought to the surface with her hug, Adannar beams and walks up to take her hand.

“You look spectacular, the breeches were a wonderful idea.”

She smiles back, “Thank you. I haven’t worn breeches much before, just for my archery lessons. Mother did not believe learning other forms of combat befitted our station – ‘we have people for that, Serahlin.’” She stops suddenly, “and that is not appropriate, I don’t know what has gotten into me today.”

“It’s the forest! It’s Improper Day, the deer are the chasing the wolves, it’s all very wacky,” he says, and she chuckles.

“My mother would never hear of such a day. Heavens forbid someone was ever improper to her.” Her eyes grow distant and she looks at the way she came a month and a half ago. Adannar moves from around the coop to stand by her.

“You do not have to worry about propriety here. I have been alone so long that I don’t even really know what el- people find proper. I’ve been trying to be proper with you, but I’ve mostly been guessing.” He shrugs and gives her a smile. She faces him and her expression turns less wistful.

“You are surprisingly proper for a hermit living in the forest.” Her compliment is sweet and he feels just a tad bashful at it. Compliments were usually levied at him for his draconic form – grand, great, majestic. He’s even been mistakenly called fearsome, but not proper, and not with the soft eyes like Serahlin’s. The expressions he’s inspired in the past ranged mostly from fear to awe, even to pointed mirth, but not gratitude or softness.

Adannar reaches forward and takes her hand.

“I want to show you something.” He leads her down the steps and into the forest. She laughs as they jog along, a free and happy sound.

“I am glad I am wearing breeches and boots for this! Where are we going?” She calls. He guides her past the glen he transforms in then to a bubbling creek.

“It’s a surprise!” He calls back. She laughs and continues to jog with him, following his movements. While dragons grow and stop at maturity overly changing in physicality, the forest is constantly changing. Learning its ways is as much knowledge as much as an art. To run like this means to know how the forest is, all the places to step, places to not step. He guides her through it, not going as quickly as he can, but quick enough to make Serahlin’s face flush and her breathing deepen. She tugs on his sleeve halfway to their destination.

“Stop, stop, I need to catch my breath,” she pants, leaning against a tree. His own breathing is labored but it’s not much for him. If anything, the exertion feels good, he hasn’t done anything like this in so long. He’d laze around his lair, motivation to do anything reaching zero. He looks to her, her breaths slowly evening out as she catches her breath. Serahlin has been a catalyst to how’s he felt these last few weeks. She reminded him of himself in a way. He’s taken to working on his creatures, actually building new ones, after he leaves her each evening. The lair is slowly getting put back in order and he wants to thank Serahlin. As much as she says he’s done for her, he feels she’s done for him as well.

“Normally we stroll through the forest. Change can be good, but this is quite sudden,” she says after her breath returns.

“I want to show you something specific, to thank you.” He takes her hand again and she grows curious, pushing off from the tree to step closer to him.

“Thank me? I should be the one thanking you.”

He can’t truly answer her, so instead and he moves closer and raises his free hand to gently caress her cheek. She swallows and lips part. His ears can hear her heart, once close to rest now speeding up again before they even begin moving.

He pulls his hand away slowly. They resume traveling through the forest, but at a more reasonable pace. She doesn’t speak again, but she holds his hand fast and lingers close. He helps her over the now stream and in only half an hour, her ears twitch and she looks westward.

“Is that…” she doesn’t finish her sentence. Adannar only smiles in response before leading her the rest of the way. He pulls fronds apart and she gasps at the beauty before her.

The waterfall – a great pillar of falling water from one of the highest of the cliffs outside of the mountain range proper. The cliff was covered in a special rock, one that only few could tell was special. To most, the stone appeared average and dull, but he could see it for what it was – an iridescent rock that revealed itself under the right magic. What appears to be dull is actually shining, browns and blues swirling together, making the water shine and appear almost like it’s moving. The pool of water at the bottom is blue, tinged with magic and reflecting the blue of the rock at the bottom.

This waterfall is older than he is. Before light, before dark, before feeling anything, he knew this waterfall and the joy it brought to the animals and people around it. A source of water and beauty, a wonder unlike any other. He remembers seeing for the first time the turquoise and copper colors meeting and feeling so pure and light.

“It is amazing, I…” Serahlin steps forward, down the bank, letting his hand go as she approaches the pool. Can she see it? The colors, the magic? He wants her to, he realizes, he wants her to see the magic that is so close to him, even if it is no longer him. He is no longer Joy, but this…this is part of him. Even he can’t tell her what he is, not yet, at least, he can show her where he began. She doesn’t know it is his beginning, but…he can know enough for them both right now.

Serahlin is totally dwarfed by the enormity of the waterfall but she doesn’t look out of place as she strides down the bank to the water.

“The water has some healing properties. I have woken up with a sore back and a dip in here later, I’m no longer sore,” he says as she dips her hand into the water. When she pulls her hand back she marvels at the loss of the cut on her finger from earlier in the morning. A chicken had bitten her, hard enough to draw blood, and now it’s gone.

“This is…how does something like this exist and we don’t know about it?” She says and something in Adannar clenches in fear. He is fine to share the waterfall, it is just that…it once was bottled and sold as healing tonics. The mystical waters of the Copper Falls, but the property leaves once it leaves the pool. The magic is in the rock, not in the water, that is why.

“A dragon lives in these woods, many see that and do not brave the forest, even if there is this,” he says. It’s true. Many take his living here as a ward against any further excursion. And while it has resulted in his loneliness, it has benefitted the forest. The waterfall is left undisturbed, trees are not cut, animals are not hunted to their breaking point.

But dragons are.

Adannar pushes such thoughts from his mind. This is a good thing, he wants her to be happy seeing this, not morose, and he certainly does not want to dwell on such thoughts. This is a joyous place.

He joins her by the water’s edge. It is an unseasonably warm day, even if they are rapidly approaching spring. The water is beautiful and he knows it is cool. Perhaps it is his draconic blood that makes him run warm, but he longs for a swim.

Sudden nudity for swimming, however, is most likely improper, and he does not wish to make Serahlin any more uncomfortable than she has been.

“I’m beginning to wonder if the dragon is the menace my people has made it out to be,” she confesses and his heart stops.

“Truly?” She nods, then rises from the bank. She walks along the water’s edge, watching colorful fish below the surface.

“It does not bother you, and we are quite deep within the forest now. This waterfall is magical, surely something a dragon would like to protect – yet nothing. I have not been menaced. Only early in the morning do I hear what could be the thunderous sound of wings in the air.”

And Adannar thought she could not surprise him any further. Perhaps…eventually…. What a hope! He offers his arm to her and she takes it. As they walk, he tells her about the area. The waterfall and pool feed into the river down here, but the river continues up beyond the ledge where the water comes crashing down. This waterfall is one of many in a series, it just happens to be the largest. At the top of the mountains are hot springs, surrounded by snow.

“My curiosity is too much, I must know – is there a hidden cave behind the waterfall?” She asks, and he looks down at her. She’s all flushed and smiling, embarrassed but also full of humor.

“Nothing but smooth rock, what a thing to ask,” he answers.

She laughs, leaning into him, “All the adventure stories I used to read all seemed to have secret caves behind the waterfalls. Perhaps a cove filled with treasure, or a hollow where lovers would meet.”

He cocks his head to the side, smiling as he speaks, “There is nothing behind the waterfall, but there is a passage in the side of the pool – it leads to an underground river.” She turns to him, bright faced and excited.

“Really?”

“Really!” He doesn’t mention that said underground river leads to a specific lone mountain in the foothills of the range, but she does not need to know yet. He laughs and nods instead, patting her hand on his arm. “Bioluminescent creatures call that river home, it’s beautiful.”

Her replying expression is equal parts wonder and incredulousness.

**

“How do you know all this?” Serahlin asks. He is a bounty of information and knowledge, the kind only few of her tutors had been. And even then, he seems to know more than a few of them.

“I have lived out here for a long time. There is a great deal to do when you are alone,” he says but his voice wavers slightly and something tickles the back of her neck. Just as it does when someone is telling a lie. Her brow furrows and she stops walking, retracting her hand from his arm.

“What aren’t you telling me?” She asks softly, giving him a chance because she wants to believe anything but the worst. But old fears die hard and she feels like there are a thousand eyes on her, just as it was at the palace. Everyone had watched, forced her to play in sick games that only hurt people.

He stops and turns to her, brow pulled together in concern, “Serahlin, I –

She doesn’t let him finish, “You are not from my land, are you?” She asks softly. He shakes his head and she drops his hand.

“And what? Are you from there? Did they send you? Are you just waiting to take me back just when I grow to trust you?” She accuses, getting ready to run. Dammit she knew this was too good to be true, she should never have trusted him she should –

“I was a spirit,” he says and everything stops. Her heart, her mind, her body – everything. His shoulders droop and he drops his head so that she can’t see his face. People who used to be spirits are rare, they only form from powerful emotions and where magic has pooled. It’s not unheard of, but she has only met one other former spirit – her non-Queen mother.

He looks out to the waterfall, gesturing to it dejected, “I formed here, from the joy experienced by the animals and any passerby at seeing this place. I wandered the area as a spirit for hundreds of years before forming my body. I am not from your land, I’m not from another either, however. I am from here, and I wanted to share that with you.”

Serahlin cannot speak. How horrible of her! She can’t…she assumed the worst immediately, ready to run, and here he was simply trying to share this with her. Her heart falls as he turns away from her. She does not feel like he is lying and…it would make sense. She has heard that former spirits like to remain close to where they originated. Memae remained close to the capital, even though it meant her eventual demise, but whether that was because of her origination or her daughters, Serahlin doesn’t know.

She steps forward. Tentatively taking Adannar’s hand, she joins him in looking down at the shimmering water. The fish are a riot of moving rainbows beneath the surface, reflecting light and color.

“I am sorry, I should not have assumed…you have been so good to me, I owed you the benefit of the doubt.”

Adannar looks down at her. His eyes look suddenly very old and the expression in them is inscrutable.

“Thank you. I understand why you are scared, though, political monsters can be some of the most vicious. You are not the first to seek asylum in this forest.”

A silence more awkward and tense than any of their previous stretches before them. She wants to apologize more but she also wants to let him feel. If she were back home, the proper thing to do would to leave him to his room, allow him to feel however he wished then apologize with a gift. Or food. But she has no gift and no food and they not back home.

So Serahlin tries something else.

“My memae was a spirit. Diligence, she was the head of my mamae’s guard – it’s how they met. The…political monsters killed her and my mamae did not stop them.” It is improper to reveal such intimate details of one’s life, but they are far from home. When he looks down at her, eyes softer, she knows she made the right decision.

“I was Joy.”

She gives him her best smile and reaches up to touch his cheek.

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Adannar, formerly Joy.”

[aldridge]

Rory Stewart's hedgehog speech

Multa novit vulpes, verum echinus unum magnum. The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing.

I am extremely pleased to have the opportunity to respond to my hon. Friend the Member for Plymouth, Sutton and Devonport. I believe that this is the first time that Parliament has discussed hedgehogs since 1566, when hedgehogs were famously raised in relation to the attribution of a bounty of tuppence for the collection of the hedgehog throughout the United Kingdom.

The hedgehog has undergone an extraordinary evolution. 1566 seems very recent, but the hedgehog was around before 1566. It was around before this Parliament. The hedgehog, and its ancestor, narrowly missed being crushed under the foot of Tyrannosaurus rex. The hedgehog was around long before the human species: it existed 56 million years ago.

It tells us a great deal about British civilisation that my hon. Friend has raised the hedgehog. Because the hedgehog is a magical creature. The hedgehog is a creature that appears on cylinder seals in Sumeria, bent backwards on the prows of Egyptian ships. The hedgehog has of course a famous medicinal quality taken by the Romany people for baldness. And it represents a symbol of the resurrection found throughout Christian Europe. This strange animal was known, of course, in Scotland, Wales and Ireland originally in Gaelic as “that demonic creature, that horrid creature”, and is the hedgehog celebrated by Shakespeare:

“Thorny hedgehog, be not seen… Come not near our faerie queen”,

and famously of course in Richard III there is that great moment when Gloucester is referred to as a “hedgehog”. It represents a strange decline in British civilisation from a notion of this magical, mystical, terrifying creature to where it is today – and I refer of course to my own constituent, the famous cleanliness representative of Penrith and The Border, Mrs Tiggy-Winkle.

I want to be serious for a moment. The hedgehog is of course an important environmental indicator: the hedgehog’s habitat, its ability to occupy 30 hectares of land, and its particular relationship to the hibernaculum – by which I mean the hedgehog’s ability, almost uniquely among animals in the United Kingdom, to go into a state of genuine hibernation. Its heartbeat goes from 240 a minute to only two a minute for six months a year. It has a particular diet: a focus on grubs and beetles. The street hedgehog initiative, which my hon. Friend has brought forward, reminds us that, by cutting holes in the bottom of our hedges, we can create again an opportunity for hedgehogs to move.

But the hedgehog is a bigger lesson for us in our environment. Firstly, a lesson in scientific humility. The hedgehog has of course been studied for over 2,000 years. The first scientific reference to the hedgehog is in Aristotle; he is picked up again by Isidore of Seville in the 8th century, and again by Buffon in the 18th century – and these are reminders of the ways in which we get hedgehogs wrong. Aristotle points out that the hedgehog carries apples on his spine into his nest. Isidore of Seville argues that the hedgehog travels with grapes embedded on his spine. Buffon believes these things might have been food for the winter – but as we know today the hedgehog, hibernating as he does, is not a creature that requires to take food into his nest for the winter. Our belief in Britain that the five teeth of the hedgehog represent the reaction of the sinful man to God – the five excuses that the sinful man makes to God – is subverted by our understanding that the hedgehog does not have five teeth.

Finally, the legislation introduced in this House – to my great despair – in 1566, which led to the bounty of a tuppence on a hedgehog was based on a misunderstanding: the idea that the hedgehog fed on the teats of a recumbent cow in order to feed itself on milk. This led to the death of between of half a million and 2 million hedgehogs between 1566 and 1800; a subject John Clare takes forward in a poem of 1805, and which led my own Department, the Ministry of Agriculture, in 1908 to issue a formal notice to farmers encouraging them not to believe that hedgehogs take milk from the teats of a recumbent cow, because of course the hedgehog’s mouth is too small to be able to perform this function.

But before we mock our ancestors, we must understand this is a lesson for us. The scientific mistakes we made in the past about the hedgehog are mistakes that we too may be mocked for in the future. We barely understand this extraordinary creature. We barely understand for example its habit of “self-anointing”: you will see a hedgehog produce an enormous amount of saliva and throw it over its back; we do not understand why it does it. We do not really understand its habit of aestivation – which is to say the Pushto version of the hedgehog hibernates in the summer as well as the winter; we do not understand that concept of aestivation.

The hedgehog also represents, for those of us interested in environmental management, the important subject of conflict in habitats. The habitat that suits the hedgehog is liminal land; it’s edge land, it’s hedgerows, it’s dry land. The hedgehog is not an animal that flourishes in many of our nature reserves; it doesn’t do well in peatland, it doesn’t do well in dense, heavy native woodland. The things that prey on the hedgehog are sometimes things that we treasure – my hon. Friend mentioned the issue of the badger. There is also the question of the hedgehog in the Western Isles, which relates to the hedgehog’s potential predation on the eggs of the Arctic tern.

Finally – and, I think, more positively – what the hedgehog really represents for us is an incredible symbol of citizen science. The energy that my hon. Friend has brought to the debate is a great example of British – or perhaps English – eccentricity, and it is on the basis of English eccentricity that our habitat has been preserved. Gilbert White, the great 18th century naturalist, was himself an immense eccentric. It has been preserved thanks to eccentrics such as my hon. Friend and, perhaps most famously of all, Hugh Warwick, the great inspiration behind the British Hedgehog Preservation Society. He has written no fewer than three books on the hedgehog, and he talks very movingly about staring into the eyes of a hedgehog, getting a sense of its wildness from its gaze. These enthusiasts connect the public to nature, sustain our 25-year environment programme, and contribute enormously to our scientific understanding of these animals. This is true in relation to bees, it’s true in relation to beavers, and it’s true in particular in relation to Hugh Warwick’s work on the hedgehog.

Ultimately, we need to understand that the hedgehog is a very prickly issue. The reason for that is that my hon. Friend has raised the question of adopting the hedgehog as our national symbol. Some hon. Members will remember that the hedgehog was used by Saatchi & Saatchi in an advertising campaign for the Conservative party in 1992 general election, and therefore we should therefore pay tribute to the hedgehog’s direct contribution to our election victory in that year. But I would like to challenge my hon. Friend’s assertion that the hedgehog should become our national symbol. I ask you, Madam Deputy Speaker, as I ask those on both sides of this House, because this question concerns not only one party, but all of us: Do we want to have as our national symbol an animal which when confronted with danger rolls over into a little ball and puts its spikes up? Do we want to have as our national symbol an animal that sleeps for six months of the year? Or would we rather return to the animal that is already our national symbol? I refer, of course, to the lion: majestic, courageous, proud.

If I may finish with a little testimony to my hon. Friend and to those innocent creatures which are hedgehogs, perhaps I can reach back to them not as a symbol for our nation but as a symbol of innocence to Thomas Hardy. He says:

“When the hedgehog travels furtively over the lawn, One may say, ‘He strove that such innocent creatures should come to no harm, But he could do little for them; and now he is gone.’ If, when hearing that I have been stilled at last, they stand at the door, Watching the full-starred heavens that winter sees, Will this thought rise on those who will meet my face no more, ‘He was one who had an eye for such mysteries’?

(10 November 2015. Transcript via Hansard, edited a bit. The video misses the Latin bit at the beginning, which is a shame.)

[all-emos-become-hipsters]

“But Eating Meat Is Natural!”

While you may enjoy the taste of flesh, the way in which it is brought to your table is often cruel, brutish and rather unecessary. I you ever asked for a coherant, non-offensive argument against the consumption of animal products. Personally, I am unable to digest red meat well and it made me ill when I used to consume it. And I’ve never cared much for chicken. So I only really ate fish as my only source of animal protein. As you are well aware, I was a pesketarian for many many years before I made the decision to go vegan. And it hasn’t been an overnight thing. I’ve been gradually moving towards it for years and only in the last few months have I been able to actually get there. I’m not asking, or telling you to go vegan. As you say, we all make choices. And so... Here we go. There is no ethical way to steal the flesh, reproductive products and body fluids of another creature. We are vastly beyond the point of 'Evolution' and the food chain as a species. We are an apex preadator that has colonised and spread across every landmass on the planet, and in our wake we have eaten our way across a large percentage of the animals that make up the world. Not to mention the fact we are not 'Carnivores' which is an organism that survives purely on the flesh of other creatures such as the Lion or the Wolf. We evolved mostly as herbivores, and omnivores at a push. Much like pigs, bears and chimpanzees (Our closest genetic reliatives). Even then, the amount of meat these creatures consume is negligible when compared to their consumption of plants. If you're concerned about protein, the average person needs only 60 grams or so a day which is easily achieved by consuming legumes, soy, beans and pulses. Our canine teeth are pitiful at tearing flesh, but far better at tearing through fruits and nuts. Meat was benefitial to our evolution as a species as it is high in calories and full of protein. But considering we are mostly sedentary as a species and way more evolved than any other organism on the face of this planet, do you think it is still entirely essential to our survival? Is it still natural? The minerals etc are easily obtained from plants and the only thing a vegan diet is truly deficient in is vitamin b12 which is very cheap as a supplement. You mention animal cruelty. It is the world we live in but only because people make it that way. That’s like saying the government are shit but it’s the world we live in. They’re only shit things if normal people allow or permit them to be ☺️ Which brings me nicely onto my next point: The oceans are being fished to breaking point and if you think that meat raised for slaughter is in any way natural, then you are under a commonly held delusion. There is one thing to be said for having chickens at the bottom of your garden, but keeping tens of thousands of live animals in the dark, being fed through tubes and pumped full of hormones to make them grow big enough to consume is not only unnatural, but also incredibly inhumane and deeply unethical. Eggs are often produced in much the same way which leaves chickens stripped of calcium in their bones which causes their legs to break and their bones to split and crack. Jungle Fowl, the 'Natural' chicken lays around 12 eggs A YEAR. Chickens, like humans have a menstrual cycle. Through selective breeding (read genetic engineering) we have altered the genome so much that we have forced their own bodies to work against them for the benefit of our species. Let that sink in. Then onto Milk. Name one other species that consumes the mammary secretions of another animal? Do lions suckle on Wilderbeast, Foxes on Rabbits, Dolphins on Whales? Nope. Also, when do female humans produce milk? After they have given birth. We forcefully impregnate animals (read Rape) in order to make them bear children. We then steal babies away from their mothers, and indeed the body fluids meant to sustain a calf, a lamb, a kid in order to fuel our own cravings for dairy. But, due to the disgusting conditions that most 'Dairy' animals are kept, often blood and pus from sores on their udders and nipples contaminate the milk. Cheese is nothing but curdled (read Stale) milk and many hormones and anti-biotics used to keep the animals alive through their horrific and strenuous lives enters their flesh and secretions which we then consume (More on that later) That's the animal welfare part.. The actual negative health effects on our bodies from consuming meat are vast and numerous. There is an increased risk of stroke, cancer, diabetes and heart disease not to mention effects on our hormonal balance such as decreased fertility, acne, psoriasis, and many other conditions. Processed meat is categorized by the World Health Organization as a type 1 carcinogen, putting it up there with smoking and asbestos. I’ve quit smoking, quit drinking and recreational drug use. I exercise regularly and eat well. I do this because I care about my own body, the planet and the welfare of our state. And I changed because of the wealth of information that shows how unhealthy and expensive these things are. I will not rethink that statement because it is true. If you drink, if you smoke, if you eat meat you are doing yourself a disservice. I have already damaged myself enough and I am not prepared to continue that way, and that is my choice. Now, I know you may not care about the health risks, but the effect these diseases have on our society as a whole are devastating. These diseases are the main killers in the West and cost our Governments Millions a year in healthcare costs. Do you care about the NHS? Stopping yourself getting sick is a good way to start helping. The anti-biotics pumped into animals is causing the bacteria in the world to start evolving to be resistant to them and as a result, we could be potentially faced with a super-virus in years to come which would render modern medicine useless and wipe out a vast amount of people. That's if climate change doesn't get there first... Environmentally, the rearing of animals for consumption is devastating. 51% of carbon emissions come from the Livestock industry and raising animals (specifically Cows) is the primary driving force behind deforestation. If you think consuming flesh, milk and eggs is really a 'natural' thing to do in todays world, then that is not an 'opinion'. That is a delusion. And the issue is, the vast majority of the world is still suffering from the same delusion. Vegans and vegetarians are often slated as 'preachy' and 'pissed off' but why shouldn't we be? The animal agriculture industrial complex runs deep in the veins of society. Hunting an animal with your teeth and fingernails is natural. Do you think that slitting an animals throat with a buzzsaw while it is hung on a conveyer belt and still consious and then transporting it's dismembered flesh and body parts thousands of miles across the world, spraying it with preservatives and wrapping it in toxic plastics and keeping it in a refrigirator for weeks is natural? Consuming those things is entirely your choice, much the same way it would be my choice to drink (or smoke) poison. I don’t expect you to change as I have very low expectations of people as a whole and I don’t stroke my ego thinking I can preach salvation. I’m in no way perfect what so ever but I am making an effort! 😉 Vegans are very good at listening to arguments to the contrary, the trouble is, your arguments as carnists aren’t valid. They have been proven wrong by science time after time. And with that in mind, I'm off for a falafel...

[blisserial]

Six

I met Ross in the Cat'n Hammer on a hot summer's evening not long after Rorik had gone to the worms in the paupers' graveyard. Such rare hot weather brought every soul with a penny to his name in from the fields for a drink and a game of chance on the boards and, if one was feeling especially rich or lonely, another roll of the dice on an upstairs mattress or in the alley behind.

Ross was one of those who appeared to be feeling both lonely and flush. He sat on a keg at the front of the tavern, near an open window, swigging tankard after tankard of Garve's best brew and ogling the maids with obvious intent.

I think I expected him to take Shel. Blonde and big arsed and more and sweet, Shel always appealed to the ones who had waited too long. And it was obvious Ross had been without for a spell. The way he sat his keg, it was a wonder his trousers didn't spring forth on their own.

We laughed about him, Shel and I. She had already lined up an assignation with an elderly gentleman who hadn't spent all of his pennies on drink. The gentleman had sprung for a mattress and also a meal before the hearth. Shel and I figured she could do the eager fellow in the alley and be back long before her wealthier customer had finished his bread.

I passed full tankards from hand to hand, whirling to keep up with shouted demands, and yet managed to keep a bemused eye on the man on the keg. Shel approached him once and then once again, subtle and then pointed in her interest. He shook his head, twice. I wondered if the man could not afford her or if perhaps he was looking for a male companionship instead. If so, he was out of luck. Garve had not yet gotten around to finding a replacement for Rorik.

"He wants you, Bliss," Shel said, returning several rounds later with a platter of empty tankards, lips pursed. "He says he prefers 'em swarthy. Like hisself."

I glanced over my shoulder. The man on the keg lifted his drink in a silent toast. He didn't smile. He was a bit weathered for my tastes but tastes are malleable in the face of need.

"He still got coin?"

Shel shrugged and rushed off. Her elderly gentleman was calling for more ale. I finished unloading the tankards, made up my mind, and marched purposefully across the tavern.

"You still got coin?"

Instead of answering he dug under his belt, freeing a money pouch, and tossed it onto the floor. The pouch landed on packed dirt with a fine clank.

I quirked a brow. Any fool could load leather with pebbles and a few pennies. It was an old trick, one Rorick had warned me of early on.

"Take a look," he invited. His voice sounded rusty. Old, badly healed scars seamed his face cheek and brow.

He wanted a show. I decided to give him one and bent over in a way guaranteed to make even the wizened spring up and take notice. He grunted deep and wordless approval. I opened the pouch as I straightened.

He still had coin, plenty of it. Gold and silver and copper and large, fiery jewels the size of my thumb.

"Opals," he said, noting my interest. "Southern. Worth more than a lord's fine horse, each one."

"I only take coin." Though the jewels were pretty things. They reminded me of the stars through frosted greenhouse glass.

"What's your name?" he asked, finishing his drink and standing up.

"Bliss." Arrogant, I took my choice of coin from his pouch and then tossed the purse back.

He only smiled, amused. The smile made his creased face ugly.

"Bliss," he said. "They call me Ross. And I never waste good coin on a mattress.”

He wasn’t gentle, but at least he was quick. After, as I fastened my trousers, he squatted in the mud and muttered a few phrases in garbled, musical tones.

"What's that?" I asked, wondering if my right eye, inconveniently elbowed while he groped me, would swell.

He finished his strange song, touched his brow, and stood up.

"A prayer," he replied absently, dismissive now that his needs had been met. "A prayer for both our souls."

                                                           *****

Bliss would not step foot inside kirk or temple. She never had, so far as Shaara knew. Not that it mattered. He was not a terribly religious person himself, except for when it mattered: when food had been scarce for so long he had forgotten the taste of meat, or on the rare occasion he had met trouble he could not handle on his own.

Then, mayhap, he would say a prayer. To any god or goddess he thought might listen. Trout, or Fox, or wise Mouse. Even to ghastly Horrid, if the sun had set and the night was dark.

Bliss put no weight in the gods, not at all. She had told Shaara so when he was five, after she had snatched him from the poor house because she had approved of the way he sang the marching canticle.

"Sweet and clear as Bell," she had said, as they rode ripe for dash straight away from pursuit. "Your voice will change, sure, but by then I'll have taught you more profitable skills ."

Later that day, as she fed him  bread and bean curd by the warmth of a fire, Shaara had dared ask Bliss if she thought Bell had sent her to him.

In response, Bliss exchanged a quick glance with Ross, who laughed aloud. 

"Gods don't work that way, lad,” Ross said. “They have better things to do than meddle with the likes of you and me."

"The king's Cardinal says if you speak loud enough and leave your kirk tithe every fifth-day, then you've always got Fox's ear,” Sharra had protested. “And if you always toss the clean bones of his brothers back into the rivers, Trout'll see you fed. And Mouse -"

"The Cardinal hasn't spoken a true word since the day his mam left him on the king's doorstep," Bliss interrupted. "You'll learn, as you grow. I do my best to stay away from the kirks, boy, and you'll do better to follow suit."

Shaara had not thought about it much after that. He'd been too busy trying to learn the ways of Ross's Troop and find his place around sometime jealous entertainers. And Bliss had been right. As he grew, he had come to realize there was not much room for religion in a jongleur's life. The gods' names became no more than cuss words and he he'd nearly forgotten the sound of his mother's voice singing the fifth day prayers.

There were gods in the south, too. Different gods. Different names. Different needs, different wisdom, different worship. Shaara had found them interesting, at first, and the temples with their low ceilings and perfumed fog and bright colors alluring.

Again, Bliss had warned him away. And he'd soon learned, again, that she was right. The gods that had no interest in a jongleurs life had no mercy on the battlefield.

                                                        *****

"Go and visit the village temple," Bliss ordered Shaara after they finished Maurice's rabbit stew. "It's Weaving Day. The village was teaming and the temple will be full. Go inside. Earn a few coins. And listen."

Shaara shrugged, amiable. Southerners treated traveling players a far sight better than their northern cousins ever did. A man of the south would keep a good performer on in his hall as a mark of status. A man of the north would sooner feed a sow at his breakfast table.

"What am I listening for?" He'd not dared ask straight out, earlier. He'd been happy Bliss had finally braved the border and he didn't want to brew more trouble.

Maurice studiously fed the fire pine needles. Bliss scowled into the flames.

"Anything interesting. We don't know what the Seat his been up to in the last few years. As far as we know, his shadow has shrunk."

"Unlikely," Maurice muttered, still bent over the fire.

Bliss ignored him. "Lady Alyce believes they're building up the Low Temple. Find out why."

"Temple whispers, then." Shaara nodded.

"Yes," Bliss said. "Temple whispers."

Shaara kept his face straight and squelched a laugh. He'd not dared to ask questions but he was never one to hide from answers. He also knew his mistress. He’d dug into Bliss's pack, three nights earlier, as she'd slept. He’d wanted to look at the miniatures, again. And there he’d found the Temple shawl.

He couldn't read southern runes. He had never bothered to learn. But he recognized the seven-edged leaf and he had many guesses as to what it might mean.

 The village temple was not large, not as village temples were wont to be. Nor was the building new. Cracks ran through the twelve stone steps from earth to threshold, and moss grew in swirls about the entrance columns. Shaara supposed that any structure set so close to the River Ann would suffer the effects of a near Northern winter. He also knew the Southern priests tended to let the temple façades go as their gods intended.

In the south worth was measured from inside out.

Shaara stopped between the columns and took a breath. A priest in mud colored robes stood on the threshold between daylight and inner shade, welcoming all who passed with a pleasant smile. He wore his hair in the braids and beads Shaara remembered; too many knots to be a novice, too few to be a fellow of any consequence.

The priest returned Shaara's careful bow. Hiis eyes lit up when Shaara displayed his juggler's pouch.

"Oh, yes," the man said in the precise, clipped tones that Shaara still occasionally dreamed of. "We've not been blessed with the pleasure yet, today. Go in, please. Take your place before the altar. The weavers will be more than pleased by this treat."

Shaara bowed again and stepped out of the afternoon.

He’d forgotten the weight of the perfume in the air. Even here in a small temple, in an outlying village of no real consequence, the reek of the scented oil hit a man like lung fever.

Shaara coughed and tried to breathe through his mouth. He could taste the oil even on his tongue; spicy and floral. His head spun and for three breaths he had to lean against the cool temple wall.

By the time his lungs agreed to work again and his nose had stopped its alarming complaint, Shaara's eyes found the faint light filtering through heavy shutters. Shadows resolved into color and form.

Bliss was right. Weaving Day appeared well begun. Shaara, standing to one side in the perfectly square room, could not count high enough to determine the number of men and women and children squatting on the inlaid floor.

They looked like industrious beetles. Swathed in ochre and red, bent nearly double, hunched mounds anchoring the rugs they tended. They made no sound but for the gentle rush of air as they inhaled and exhaled, inhaled and exhaled.

Shaara shook his head, trying to focus. He walked carefully up one side of the square, taking care to watch the breadth of his feet. Bliss would kill him if on their very first day back he trod upon temple-blessed silk and ruined their welcome.

The weavers glanced up as Shaara approached the altar. First one interested face and then another, and another, and then smiling groups. Their pleasure was obvious. If the villagers marked him for a Northerner, they did not care.

Shaara flung himself on the floor at the idol's four-toed feet. He lay prostrate, counting through the required six heartbeats. He imagined he could feel the gaze of the bird-faced statue on his shoulder blades, and he wondered if this was why Bliss would never step foot on religious ground. Bliss bothered bow down to no creature, living or otherwise.

When Shaara rose, the idol released his imagination and was again only a badly sculpted man with an egret's head and lion's feet. Garlands of flowers hung around the statue's stubby neck: red and yellow and white and one made of black raven's feathers. Stone hands balanced wide, shallow bowls of perfume. Some especially attentive villager had smeared wax across the tip of the grey beak. An adulteress, Shaara supposed, or a man with the rot in his gut; wax was an expensive offering.

But he had come to listen, not to gawk, and if he returned with nothing of interest, Bliss would have his head. Shaara sneezed one last time and then looked at his audience.

The weavers were all waiting, colorful skeins briefly abandoned, every single face lifted in eager expectation.

Shaara smiled back, bowed low, and then began.

 He juggled and sang and told Bliss's tales until the small light in the temple windows turned to stars and the weavers lit forests of candles to save their eyes. Then they fed him the sweet banana pudding reserved for honored guests. Shaara dipped into the bowl with his fingers, eating crosslegged on the floor, as the weavers murmured back and forth over their creations and the braided priest came to squat at his side.

"How is it," the man asked, "across the river?"

"Cold," Shaara answered lightly. "Cold enough to freeze piss."

The priest only smiled wide, showing a gap where his front teeth had once lived. "Even your king's piss?"

"The king pisses in silver buckets," Shaara returned. "And not in the slippery streets like the rest of us."

The man rocked on his heels and considered the idol over Shaara's shoulder. "Your people do not mind the cold, I suppose."

"We're used to it."

"They say your winter is three times longer than your summer and that you have no spring at all."

"We have spring ," Shaara said, and setting aside his empty bowl. "Sometimes." He paused to watch the weavers shuffle and bend. "Where are the rugs going?"

"When they are finished they will be taken by cart and mule and boat to Emman."

"What's in Emman?" Shaara asked, although he knew well enough. "A fine lord with many rooms to furnish?"

"Our Low Temple." The priest explained. Pride sparked in his eyes."The Seat is building up, closer to the heavens and the kingdom within. The rugs will be this village's gift, unrolled beneath the feet of young initiates the very day the Temple's blessing is renewed."

Shaara remembered the initiates. Southern temples were always hungry. Priests wore out quickly, sacrificing their life for their beliefs. And there were always young lads and lasses, ready to step forward, ready to grow or cease as the Seat commanded.

"Are you sending anyone?"

"From here?" The priest shook his head. The beads in his hair rattled. "We have no one to offer. This time around, the Seat is calling for those of clean blood."

Nobles, that meant. Milords and miladies or maybe an especially wealthy trader's daughter. No village hopefuls or stable lads with dreams of perfume and temple rite.

Shaara shivered despite the stuffiness of the crowded room. The priest's grin creased.

"Perhaps you recall," he said. "The last time the Seat demanded purity?"

Shaara blinked. The priest snorted.

"We remember the stories," he chided. "Did she think we would forget? They are written rune and rune on linen, rolled in the library of the Highest Temple. We know them word for word, though no one dares speak them.

"Tell your Captain to come," the man continued, "and we shall cook meat in her honor."

 Bliss would have none of it.

"We ride on," she said, after Shaara had delivered his report. "I've no time to play the oddity just so the man can scratch his curiosity and I will not break bread with a priest ."

"You make your living playing the oddity," Maurice pointed out, calmly. The old man had decided to shave his beard. Shaara watched him, enthralled. In the dark of night, without even a bit of mirror to ease the way, Maurice scraped flesh smooth.

"I entertain where I see fit," Bliss returned. "And I have no intention of telling war stories to a bloodthirsty eunuch."

"You send me instead," Shaara said easily, and stretched out on the grass at Maurice's side.

Bliss scowled. "No wonder they knew you. I'm sure I taught you discretion, boy."

Shaara grinned and closed his eyes. The rasp of Maurice's razor slowed.

"They were the only Southern tales I knew," Shaara explained. "And they have no use for Northern songs. I remember Ross's lessons, even if you pretend not to."

"Hush, lad." Maurice said mildly. And then, "They're none of them eunuchs."

Shaara could hear Bliss huffing about beneath the night sky. He was tempted to sleep, but he suspected Bliss would have them up and on horseback just as soon as he began to snore. She was restless. He supposed it was a delayed reaction to Southern air. Or could be she was beginning to realize just what might lie ahead.

He'd thought about it, himself. He liked a happy ending to a story, well enough. Who did not? But he was not so sure Bliss would get hers.

"Do you think she sent it? The shawl, I mean,” he ventured after a moment.

Maurice's razor quieted completely. Bliss took a long breath and then let it out in a grunt.

"You're not supposed to be going through my pack, Shaara. I should whip you."

"You can't. I'm too old, now, Bliss. Old enough you should be treating me same as you treat Maurice."

"Maurice doesn't dig through my things." She stalked across the grass. He could feel the heat of her anger as she loomed. He did not dare open his eyes for fear of a kick in the ribs.

"He doesn't need to." Stubborn as she was, she had taught him the way of it too. "You tell him what he needs to know. You treat him like an equal. As you should be treating me. I not a child sciffing off your take any more, Bliss. I sing for my supper and I earn it."

"The lad's right, Bliss." Maurice had resumed work. The strop of his razor against leather meant his face was clean.

Shaara sat up. "Even you, Maurice. I ain't a lad. I'm a man, or haven't you noticed?"

Bliss knelt in the grass, a dark against the gray hummock. "You aren't grown until you've had a woman and killed a man."

"I've killed plenty," Shaara said, soft. He swallowed the lump that sprung up in his throat. "You know it. You were there, blood to your own elbows. And if you think it takes a woman, well. I'll go down the road tomorrow morn and buy an hour or two."

Maurice laughed. Shaara stiffened. Bliss spat a handful of filthy curses into the campfire but relented.

"She didn't send it," she said, harsh in her surrender. "She wouldn't. She'd not want me to know."

"Could be it’s a mistake," Maurice said, rolling razor and leather strop back into his pack. "Could be it’s a game."

"The king doesn't play games," Bliss argued, but Shaara could hear reluctant suspicion in her tone. "He decides and he takes. He never tests."

"The Seat, I meant. Could be the shadow's playing a game with us."

"With us?" Bliss laughed, harsh. "I misdoubt the Seat even remembers Green Hill, Maurice. The war carries on and battles are forgotten, yes?"

"Our victories are archived in the High Temple," Maurice returned, wry, and Bliss stopped laughing.

Shaara could smell dawn in the air. Man or lad, he knew his duty. Staggering upright, he found his scattered bedding and whistled for his horse.

He had another question but he was not quite brave enough to speak it.

Maurice only hesitated until the ashes of the fire were covered over.

"What will you do, Captain? If it is no mistake?"

"Knock her over the head." Bliss didn't hesitate. "And bring her home.”