#i love doing Fur In Breeze stuff. returning to my origins

[kir0nixx]

Kofi reward for shadow_nachi! Reblogs super appreciated :]

[helpinghanikan]

Stay outside the Line

X-men x Reader

Sum:  Just because a mutation is a gift, doesn’t mean it’s not a curse.

an: the mutation is anyone within certain distance of the reader will start to die. Could not think of an eloquent way to say that. 

Charles Xavier:

           Sitting just within the shadow of one of the massive trees you lean back into the sun. The breeze is comfortable, and the grass is soft. If it weren’t for you company it’d be too easy to lean back and nap right there and then.

           Although you’d never know the touch of his hand you were still connected to your man. A long stretch of twine, twenty-one feet exactly, is tied around your wrist. The other end was connected to Charles. Tied in the same fashion around your wrist but holding the string between his fingers. Without even meaning to he was caressing it; thumb rubbing up and down the length while the other hand held his book.

           Closest you would get as physical contact from Charles was mirroring his movements. Running your own thumb over your other hand, not looking down lest your break the illusion.

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

Erik Lehnsherr:

           At first he was just another face staring at you behind bullet proof glass. Both he and the other guy were talking to your host, mouths moving but nothing coming through on your end. Had it been a year or even a few months early you would have sat on your bed with knees to the chest. Wait for them to leave before being comfortable again.

           Now you just keep reading, barely glancing without interest to the glass.

           “What have you done to be locked in here?” The tall man’s voice could be mistaken for God’s by how it comes down from above. The speakers placed so you’d never be able to pretend like you didn’t hear anything.

           ‘Accidentally killed a bus load of people.’ Was the answer but you wouldn’t say it.

           “It’s safer for everyone. They’ll make sure I won’t hurt anyone while I’m in here.” You say instead, nodding to your host.

           “Did they tell you that after they locked the door?” He asks.

           Supposedly you weren’t in a prison. The incident on the bus was labeled a ‘possible gas leak of unknown substances’. You being the only survivor was sent to this facility to help with the trauma, and to find out how the same incident happened in the hospital.

           You had yet to stare at him right on. His gentle knocking “You don’t belong here, you will never belong here. We can help you, We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

           There was nothing else to do with your life but to agree. You wouldn’t be able to leave on your own. But the moment you’re out, how could they ever get you back in?

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

Raven/ Mystique:

         Over time you’ve learned how to push the poison deeper inside of you. Spending most days imaging it as a physical type of sand that covered you head to toe. Pressing and forcing that down into your shoes. Walking on it and keeping from spreading any further then a foot from your own body.

           Even with that amount of work there was still times that it slipped. When Pressure in your head and behind your eyes starts to push out, and a migraine seems preferable, you have to make a quick exit.

           Most people understand and don’t look twice when you run from the room. Others will give each other looks but only verbally ask what’s up in a whisper later on in the night. Then there was the few that understood but still followed. How do you tell the woman that you love to fuck off for a night? Probably in much nicer words, but for now you make an exit from the mansion, Raven keeping her distance but following anyway.

           “Get to the trees, little faster!” She almost yells the encouragement.

           “Please, Raven, Please stay back!” You yelled, both hands holding your head.

           It’d be romantic to think that you made it thanks to Raven’s encouragement. Whatever length of your nails, they dug into your scalp. The pressure was the definition of insanity at this point, stepping into the tree line and screaming without a sound.

           Thank whoever was up there that Raven knew better then to comfort you. Staying far enough away that the released poison never touched her. The poison obeyed it’s own laws and stayed within the twenty feet. In the dark of the night green grass turns brown and trees creak instead of scream as they die. Only one of said trees was small enough to be completely overtaken by it.

           You’re still drawing blood from your own head when that tree falls.

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

Peter Maximoff:

         The best way to describe Peter is like a kitten who just learned it could climb things. Try as you might to explain that it’s not a good idea to climb the drapes it will never listen. It will keep trying to climb no matter how many times you pull it away and tell it “no”.

           It’s not until there’s crashing in the middle of the night and few meows of pain that the little idiot will learn. This it the same situation you were in with Peter. No matter how many times you tell him to not get too close he always breaks the rule. Thinking that he is faster then the poison to run close enough to give a peck or a little slap on the backside before making it into the safe zone.

           Little kisses and touches were always nice, but it was playing with fire. Eventually he got too cocky, assuming he was faster than poison that tries too hard to protect you. He started to slow down to make the kisses longer and touches more frequent. When that didn’t come with real repercussions, he started going even slower. When his hand lingers too long on your back the repercussions hits him full force.

           It was hard enough to see the symptoms when you were younger. But as an adult, watching your man clutch his throat and fall to his knees was so much worse. With his head bowed you wouldn’t see the blood until he’d completely fall on his side, something that no one wanted to happen. Without thinking to you reached down to him, both hands open trying to do anything you can.

           You name is yelled from across the lawn. An overly harsh shout from your mentor who had never honestly yelled at you before. “Back away!”

           Charles could see the fear and shock in your eyes. But he also had the rest of his students to think about. ‘You have to go, now.’ The whisper in your mind is a world away from the panicked shouts, but it might have been better if he had just yelled at you.

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

Hank McCoy:

           You had to be used to secluded rooms by now; at least this one was less like a cell and more like a square fish bowl. The stool in the center and the little slot on the side were the only things giving off prison vibes.

           For most of the afternoon Hank has been focused on either his desk or a microscope or a computer. Every time he moves from one to another you look from your book, wait a few seconds to see whether he was looking at you, then return to the paragraph that you now had to restart.

           There was no one to blame but yourself for this problem. Hank had told you it was going to be boring, when he would have results he’d get you himself. Instead you went with him. “Not like I’m doing anything anyway,” You had said, telling him to wait a few minutes to step into your little security fish box.

           “It’s good enough for a trial run.” He says, probably to himself.

           The liquid he holds up is the same shade of blue as his fur. Over the past few weeks it has changed from several different colors. At one point it looked like blood, like the same color as the blood you had given him. The he had held within a smaller containment field. Even the smallest part of you gave off at least a little poison.

           “That’ll fix it? Or least tone it down?” You ask.

           “Supposedly, I used my original idea and added some new things. Last time it didn’t go as well.” He says, slightly looking down at himself. He had meant it to come off as a joke, instead he says it with some sadness underlining it.

           “Well with new stuff it must have improved, hand it over.” You move next to the little slot by the door.

           “Considering last time, I’m gonna test it on something else, first. Make sure it doesn’t do the same thing again.” Hank says.

           “What else are you going to test it on?”

           “Not you,” He says shutting it in the desk. “If I make you any worse that box probably won’t hold it.”

           It’s hard to pout and leave the room when you can’t leave the room. Instead just crossing your arms and pouting.

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

Jean Gray:

           Over a mile separates you and your woman. Hours spent in your little cabin in the corner of the estate, mostly sleeping, mostly hiding. This time it was pretending to sleep. Acting like the monstrous thunder and lightning outside wasn’t a window away from being in your room.

           The rest of the students were in the school itself. Having their thicker walls and each other to protect against the storm. The professor had offered you to stay inside the mansion during storms like this. But that safety would be in the basement, two floors below another living thing. Without any windows and set up with a less comfortable bed and none of your decorations. At least in the cabin you’d die around your things and the outside if the storm got in.

           ‘Hey’ Jean always had a way to find you. Mostly in your mind. ‘How are you doing?’

           “If I die do you think my mutation will leave with me?” You ask the darkness.

           ‘Don’t say that. It’s just a storm, nothing we don’t live with.’ Her soft laugh travels with her words. It warms the cabin and keeps away the lightening for the briefest of moments. ‘Do you want to come inside?”

           “No, I’m all snuggled up. I don’t think I’d make it to the mansion anyway.”

           Although the darkness gives nothing there’s a soft weight on your shoulder. A matching feel covering the extension of your back. Knees without a body pressed into the back of yours, arms and no being lay over your body. Their fingers in your hair. You were alone, but Jean make sure to be with you.

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

Logan/ Wolverine:

         Being around Logan was like being in another world. One where you were born without the poison smell and didn’t have to struggle to remember what another person felt like. First time you felt his hand on your shoulder it was like being slapped.

           “It’s like swallowing pennies. I can taste it, but nothing is coming out.” Logan had described it to you. His healing faster than the damage your poison could give.

           On the off chance that Logan is injured in your company, it’s very likely the poison would take advantage of that moment. But that didn’t stop you either of you. It was a possibility that was best not thought about.

           Instead you stay your course. Turning the school girl crush into a relationship through raw stubbornness and the ability to get drunk on someone into a two party affair.

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

Kurt Wagner:

         You were two people with the same want of seclusion but for different reasons. Just happening to catch a glance of each other when having the same idea of a hiding spot.

           Back then you were still new to the estate, being allowed to read and work away from others. Catching a glance of anyone and your scrambling to gather your books, coming off as more then just rude when you yell at them to stay back.

           Kurt was the one you didn’t have time to yell at to get away. A flash of blue, books in your arms, and he’s gone. Only a few times did he stay long enough for you to catch a better look at him. A face, blue skin and a tail that hung down from the branch he had been sitting on. That time he was far enough away to not be in danger, had you waved at him he would be. But only if he misread and took it as an invitation to come closer.

           It took weeks but you finally had the courage to wave. Just a small one that he returned. A small relationship made through small gestures.

[finstermond]

Witcher Ranch AU

Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer of Vengerberg

Ciri, Vesemir, Eskel, Lambert, Jaskier

---

Geralt gazed upon the vast grassland that belonged to him - or the horses, as he would say. It had belonged to his father before he gifted him his inheritance early as a wedding gift.

Almost hidden by the bushes grazed some of the horses. He could see two heads of adult ones and one of a foal but only one of the adult heads was discernible. A white mare - Endrega, he was sure of it. What a beautiful one. Her fur glistered in the sun as fresh snow. Riding her canter felt as if riding a breeze.

The Morhen Ranch bred horses for some generations now. It was his life, the only one he knew. The only one he ever wanted to know.

“Hey,” his brother Eskel disturbed his thoughts, “think you can actually hold the post or do you want to keep looking at the horses and make your wife jealous?”

Geralt grunted and readjusted his grip. Eskel sighed and struck the hammer on the post.

“Thank you, Eskel.” said Geralt.

“No problem, it’s my job after all. If your son can’t even hold a post up I need to chime in!” teased Eskel his older brother. “Ah fuck you,” answered Geralt, “you know his mother wanted to show him something today.” They walked back to their horses and put the hammer, the old posts they had renewed now, planks and the nails back in the cart Eskel’s pinto was strapped to. Eskel’s wolfdog Bann waddled his tail, ready to run back to the farm.

“She did?” asked Eskel while mounting. Geralt went up to his riding horse Roach. Originally he wanted to name all horses Roach - followed by numbers. Several people intervened. The brown mare greeted him with a soft snort.

“Yeah, she took all of the kids with her after school. They’re riding to see a plant that only blooms for a few days a year.”

“Flowers?”

“Yup.”

“I don’t understand your wife.” Geralt squinted towards Eskel.

“Rarely anyone does.”

---

“Daddy!” a wall of shouts arrived Geralt as he came back from the field. Eskel had taken a turn to look for the chicken fence. Geralt almost didn’t manage to climb down from Roach before a wall of children hugged him. Well, apart from his oldest son, Eric, who had a phase of being too cool for his dad. He had his arms crossed, smiled nonetheless and stood close. It was understandable behaviour being 13 and all but Geralt couldn’t stop being a tad bit sad about it. At the same time he mirrored his mother so much. A gaze that could kill, hair as black as the night, his smile. Apart from that his stature was more like his. He’d grow up to be broad and tall, Geralt was sure of it. The second eldest, Leo was 11 and like a younger twin to his brother. It seemed like he’d grow even taller for he was about the height Eric had been a year ago. Casimir - their third son - just turned eight and currently wants to grow long hair which keeps getting into his face. Geralt kneeled down to pick up Roger, their youngest son at five who was born hunched and tried not to groan. Gwyn, their only daughter at age seven - and a mirror to her mother in all but character - took the chance of her dad kneeling and gave Geralt a peck on his cheek. She had made her brothers flower crowns which all of them - except Eric who had it bound to his belt - proudly wore. Gwyn handed her father one sheepishly. “I made you one too!” she exclaimed. Geralt happily tried to put it on but his daughter had over measured his head and it was more of a necklace. He beamed nonetheless and walked towards the main house, children following him. Eric ran behind after he finished unsaddling Roach and let her into the paddock.

Nearing the house, Geralt smelled stew and got excited. With his free hand he opened the door, put out his boots and walked towards the kitchen. “I’m home!” he exclaimed.

Two of the kids detached from him and ran towards the stew and the raven haired woman standing before the pot.

Yennefer turned around and greeted Geralt with a fleeting smile and a kiss. The kids all let an exasperated “Ew” be known.

She looked him up and down, noted his necklace and grinned wickedly, “Your daughter thinks you’re bigheaded.” she said. The kids took off around the kitchen and Roger wanted to be let down so Geralt kneeled again to put him back on his feet. Yennefer turned towards the stew. Geralt hugged her from behind.

“Wonder if her mother keeps telling her that.” he said. She let herself loose in his arms.

“Might be.” she closed her eyes for a second.

“How was the flower?” Geralt asked.

Yennefer chuckled. “The auraris scenoloptis? Beautiful. Our kids got distracted by wolfbanes, moleyarrows, blowballs and ginatias though.” she told him. Geralt looked down on his necklace, made up of those flowers. “Yeah, right.” he said.

“I’m drying some petals and hope I can use them for a salve soon. The fishmonger's daughter needs some help getting pregnant.” she explained.

“What’s so different to using white myrtle?” he asked.

“Well it’s more potent in its aphrodisiac agency and acts as a booster to the female cycle by activating-” she realised Geralt was more interested in sniffing her hair than letting her explain in detail, “- in other words you have a couple more fertile days.”

“We didn’t need that.” he added. She turned towards him.

“Be glad, could have been different in another life!”

---

Lambert had returned from the city. His carriage was full of groceries, metals, fabric and leather. Eskel helped him unpack. Eric and Leo joined while Casimir, Gwyn and Roger had disappeared in the stables. “Everyone’s buying stuff as if a plague’s coming.” Lambert exclaimed. “Well maybe some are blessed with prophetic dreams or just like to prepare for winter early, like we do.” Eskel answered. Eric and Leo carried a big package to their storage house. Lambert’s two wolfdogs and Eskel’s greeted each other and proceeded to run around the cart and ranch.

Vesemir joined the unpackers, “Like we do? Those kids would eat those horses up in two weeks if we won’t buy food!” and kneeled down to pick something up which stopped both Eskel and Lambert to shout “Stop it!” and basically rip what he tried to pick up from his hands.

“Stop it, old man, you know it’s not good for your back!” Lambert shouted again.

Geralt and Yennefer, hearing commotion, walked out and soon were greeted by this scene. Vesemir put himself back up and made a sour face.

Yennefer called out to him, “Come on and help me inside, Vesemir.” after that she greeted Lambert with a quick “Hello!” which he answered with a “Hey, Yennefer.” She turned to got back inside.

In passing Geralt who sped to help unload he murmured, “My own sons don’t think I can do anything anymore and my daughter-in-law just gives me one command after another. I am not inept, I’m just getting a bit old!” Geralt patted him on the back. Vesemir had not been as quiet as he thought since Lambert quickly added a “I’ll be damned if there is a person one day she doesn’t order around. So don’t feel bad about that part.” which handed him a grunt and a sour look from Geralt.

Lambert shrugged. “Don’t tell me it’s not true!”

Without a word, Eskel threw something heavy at their youngest brother for him to shut up. There was silence for a few seconds. The boys returned and began carrying another package towards the storage hut.

“How was the town?” asked Eskel.

“Good, hectic. People are going a bit crazy. Emreis bought the Cintraen Stables. Ran ‘em out of business I say. I mean, crazy coincidences - Calanthe and Eist died a few weeks ago. Pertussis they say. Their granddaughter is missing. I mean she has nowhere to go, no family left anyways. Wolves probably got her. Hm. Old hag apparantly died. Can’t say I miss ‘er, had a few debts. Ah, I managed to have two of our foals of next year reserved. An Craite wants one of Alps and Foltest wants either one of Kayran or Eredin - maybe even both he’s not sure. Ugh Friday, finally!” Lambert told his brothers.

“Calanthe and Eist died?” Geralt asked.

“Yeah, pertussis apparently. Emreis already had a signed contract weeks before but I still get why people are thinking it might have been on purpose. Even more so that Cirenella or whatever her name was ‘s missing. You’d think they’d have prepared for it.”

They hadn’t been friends but lived in silent respect as almost neighbours and hearing about the tragic story around Calanthe’s daughter and her young grandchild had been the topic of many conversations with Yennefer. She had often remarked whether or not Pavetta was actually Vesemir’s daughter as a joke since Geralt and Pavetta had shared the same white-colored hair. Since Pavetta’s daughter was born a bastard with no known father it had led to some distressing silence.

“Hm.”

---

After having everything from Lambert’s shopping trip stored and packed where it belonged, they ate. Having ten mouths to feed was not something Yennefer ever imagined to do but she did it with glee - and she didn’t have to do it daily since both Lambert and Vesemir loved to cook. Geralt was good at it but he would rather feed the horses daily than his children, to put it briefly. “Horses don’t play with their food.” he’d say to Yennefer as an excuse not to cook. “Well then I won’t play with your meat!” was the whispered reply that usually took great effect.

Lambert told tales of the city with his nephews and his niece hung on his lips while eating.

Geralt only scooped a few spoons in, his mind occupied with the child of Pavetta. Only Roger who had snuck in the pantry and stolen some sweet pie and therefore wasn’t quite as hungry as his siblings noted his father being absent and tried to smile at him. Yenenfer who kept an extra eye on her criminal son to check whether he was eating anything healthy at all thus noticed Geralt being absent minded. He felt her gaze and looked up towards her. They exchanged a few facial expressions as married folk tend to do and Yennefer understood he would come up to her with it in time but later.

Yennefer returned to give Roger a stern gaze and he hastily put another spoon full of stew into his mouth, then smiled, mouth full of stew at her.

---

Beer in hand, children in bed, freshly bathed Geralt stood next to the fireplace. Vesemir was dozing off in his rocking chair. His ale stood beside him on the ledge.

Roger had a phase of direly needing his mom to sleep and while Geralt had read them all a story it was Yennefer who was needed to hold Rogers hand until he slept right now. Sometimes she dozed off too and then came up later to the parlor.

Eskel and Lambert washed up, he could hear their voices softly getting to his ear. They would drink a quick beer together, then go to their houses. Eskel as the ranch’s smith above his furnace and Lambert next to the storage hut. Vesemir took turns sleeping at Eskel’s or in his house which was way smaller and originally planned as a guest house. On colder nights he stayed at Eskel’s.

Originally they had all slept in the main house but with one child after another place grew scarce soon. And then again Geralt and Yennefer were grateful for every bit of privacy.

Geralt was still recovering from a leg injury he got when taming last year's horses. He had taken the children with him. Leo and Casimir almost got in harm's way when they groomed an already tamed horse of theirs, Morvudd, and his wild horse almost crashed into the other one. Morvudd jumped and left space for the wild one to crash into Leo and Casimir so Geralt got it to turn again and crash into a splintered fence, causing his leg to cut open.

The children had been horrified of course. Eric and Leo quickly ran back home to get help from their mother. It was resolved rather fast but since then his leg wasn’t healed completely and his duties on the ranch got split and taken over by his family.

After a while Eskel and Lambert came into the parlor and laughed at their sleeping father “No, I am not getting old.” Lambert mimicked his tone of speech and they all chuckled. They drank their beer and then wished each other good night. Eskel woke Vesemir and they left together. Geralt sat down into the rocking chair when he heard steps coming downstairs.

“Look who’s still awake.” he said with a low voice.

“Ha-ha.” Yennefer fake laughed. “Your son was scared you’re still hurting and cannot eat because of this.” she explained and then yawned.

She sat on his lap, carefully avoiding his hurt leg and began stroking his beard. No words were needed, no further inquiring.

“Lambert told us about Calanthe and Eist dying.” he began. He began caressing her back.

“Cintrean Stables?” she asked while closing her eyes. He nodded. “Yes, he said Emreis bought it. Didn’t mention they died though. What about -” he cut her off.

“Went missing, he said. She has no family left. She’s probably just a thorn in Emreis’ eyes.” Geralt added. Yennefer turned to look at him. “You...?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know do you…?”

She smiled, “What’s one mouth more to feed?”

One moment in silence then they started giggling. “Oh, Eric’s not gonna like this.”

Geralt looked towards the fire, sad about this prospect. Yennefer turned her body more towards him. “Hey. He’s having a phase. Just like Roger who needs me to sleep right now because he thinks if I am not there monsters will come. Eric is in a phase where he thinks he doesn’t need his dad and can protect himself from all the monsters in the world. The boys in school teased him because he told so much about you in school and then you got hurt even though being immortal according to Eric, the teacher told me.”

“Oh.” Geralt’s eyes widened.

“Geralt, it’s not your fault.” Yennefer tried to reassure him. “It’s a phase. He will get over it soon enough and then it’ll be me he hates. He’s starting puberty. It’s gonna be - fun.”

“Fun.” Geralt repeated.

“I need to convince myself or else I am gonna get crazy. We really had five children in eight years which means that they’re gonna be pubescent at the same time at one point.”

They both stared into the fire.

“It’s gonna be six children, Yen.” Geralt remarked. Yennefer smiled, then her gaze saddened. “We’re gonna have to find her first.”

---

They were awoken by a loud stomps on the stairways and shrieks of playing fetch. Yennefer went from sleeping to a commanding tone in mere seconds. “No running on the stairs!” she shouted, silence followed, quickly to be exchanged with a trail of steps running towards the two of them who had slept on the rocking chair, covered in fur and a quilt.

“Mommy! Daddy! Good morning!” they exclaimed and threw a ball between them. A game Geralt didn’t get the rules of. “We don’t have to get the rules,” Yennefer once explained to him, “what’s important is a) that they’re playing at all b) they are playing together and c) they’re letting us be for five minutes”.

They got forehead kisses from their parents - even Eric who Geralt just grabbed and pulled towards him. Yennefer saw Eric smile afterwards and was reassured he just had a phase.

Breakfast was bread with cold meat and jam. And telling their children about the plan of adopting another child.

“She doesn’t have a family anymore - do you guys think we could be that for her?” Yennefer asked the children.

“But who is gonna protect her if Daddy’s away? I already have to protect all of them. And you!” Eric got worked up.

“First of all, I am perfectly capable of protecting myself and you,” Yennefer got serious, “second of all, your father has a job that means he has to stay with the herds several nights in a row. It’s not as if he’s gone forever or will leave forever. He’s never going alone and won’t ever go alone. And third of all, we are fine. I know you hear a lot of the jokes Lambert makes about you guys eating everything up one day but no it’s not the truth. We have enough for all. Hell, we would have enough if Lambert and Eskel finally got a -”

Geralt stopped Yennefer. “I think it’s okay now, Yen.”

Eric looked a bit beat down and angry at the same time, Geralt wondered why he hadn’t left yet but he guessed Eric was too proud for that.

“Hey buddy,” Geralt started, “I know you’re feeling a bit like I am not your friend anymore these days but I am. I don’t know what I did to make you feel this way but this is between us and shouldn’t -”

“Yeah yeah I know. Just keep on getting more children like I am not enough!” Eric stormed off, closing the door behind him by smashing it. Yennefer looked as shocked as rarely ever before.

Eskel peeked into the parlor. “Your son just crashed into me and then ran off? Are you alright -” he saw Yennefer's expression, Geralt being quite unhappy and the other children mildly confused. “Okay. I guess not. Uh. I will look for Lambert.” he left again.

Leo, after holding a “conference” with his siblings and being the eldest with Eric’s vanishing, told his parents that they were alright with another sister, should she “wish to join, be okay to make flower crowns, race towards the forest and back, accept the rules of ball-throw-game” and, most importantly the task they all hated but someone had to do “help folding bed sheets” which had Yennefer and Geralt fall out of their moment of shock and return to smiling. “Sure. We will present her with your demands.” Geralt told his son.

---

“Are you sure you won’t rather take the carriage?” Yennefer asked as Geralt mounted Roach. Vesemir already sat on his horse, a white gelding.

“Yes, Yen. We will be faster that way. She is alone out there and every minute might count.”

“I just worry-” Yennefer got interrupted by Vesemir: “His leg won’t fall off and I may be older than you all but I can ride a horse faster than you all can. Now stop being cheesy and give him a goodbye kiss.”

Yennefer did, presented Vesemir with a stern gaze and then waved them goodbye with the children, up until they got bored doing so.

Geralt and Vesemir took on a quick trot and reached the town soon after high noon. The town hall delivered a quick message in the form of Julian Alfred Pankratz alias Jaskier, one of the council members. “Geralt! Vesemir!” he exclaimed , “it is nice seeing you here!”. He came closer, leaving a waiting and now angry couple waiting for their meeting behind. “How is your leg? How are your children? How is… the witch doing?” Vesemir laughed at that last remark. “How are you, old man?” he asked Vesemir who visibly didn’t like being called ‘old man’. Geralt smirked at that, had he been okay with his wife getting insulted seconds before.

“Getting better each day, getting bigger each day, getting more beautiful each day.” Geralt answered. Jaskier shrugged. “Wow I really need to visit again.” he said.

“Yes, they miss their uncle.” said Vesemir. “And to be frank we could use a day of singing again.” Jaskier beamed.

“We’re here because of Pavetta’s child though.” Geralt chimed in.

“Who?” asked Jaskier.

“You know the child of surprise.”

“Ah. Sure. What a tragic story, isn’t it? I really need to make it a song. ‘Last flower of Cintra’, maybe? Hm. Sounds too floral. Lion? They had lion decor. But they still were a ranch. Rose? Yeah yeah sounds better. What are the odds of both grandparents dying mere days from each other?”

“Jaskier.” Geralt cut his evasions short.

“Right. Cirilla. What about her?”

“Lambert said she went missing and doesn’t have a family.” Geralt explained.

“Well at least the family part is true.” Jaskier said.

“What do you mean?”

“She doesn’t have any further family. Well except - surprisingly - a father should surface,” he noticed Geralt's stern look, “but no she doesn’t have any living family and no one willing or possible to take her. Alas she is not missing - okay yes she went missing for a quick moment but was quickly found and lives with the teacher for now.”

“Oh.” Vesemir and Geralt shared a look. They both were glad she was sfe for now.

“We spoke about maybe taking her in,” Geralt stated, “can I meet her?”

“Sure,” said Jaskier, “just maybe bring Yennefer next time. The council decided we would only let someone take her in after both had met them. You know it didn’t go well with the Jaromir boy last time and now he’s living on Emrais Ranch getting fed lies about how inept we are. And Emrais hasn’t even adopted him. I think it’s a bunch of kids just living off the ranch’s supplies.” Geralt wasn’t so sure that was the whole truth but he didn’t care.

“I think it’s best we ride back, Geralt. You and Yennefer can still ride back here today and meet her then. It’s no use going there alone. You shouldn’t make the decision yourself anyways. Would have been different if she still ran around in the forest.” Vesemir opined. Jaskier nodded consensual. “Yes I won’t be here for long anymore but you know where to meet me. I will have the papers ready should you decide to take her in.”

---

Yennefer and Geralt rode as fast as the wind. Her black stallion was called Aretuza and one of the fastest in the bunch. Roach had been tired out so he took Plotka, another brown mare.

“Remember when we got married in the town?” Yennefer smiled.

“Barely.” Geralt answered. Yennefer's smile vanished.

“You’re teasing me!” she turned sour. Geralt’s eyes widened in glee.

“Yen, I am just reminding you of the time you told me you were pregnant.”

“Oh,” she laughed, “I remember, you didn’t recall our wedding at first. To be fair they had you quite… drunk at the end of the night.”

The conversation had been barely a week after their wedding. Istredd, a study friend of Yennefer who didn’t make it to the wedding, congratulated them and then, after winking at both of them for seeing Yennefer's situation, asked whether they had chosen a name already. After he left Geralt asked her for what he congratulated. She had told him that they had wed which got Geralt confused.

“I wore white and had flowers? All our friends and family were there? You wore a dress shirt? You said ‘I do!’?”

His answer back then didn’t stem from being reluctant rather than actually not knowing what had been going on. “How was I even supposed to know? You always smell of lilac, wear white, black or black and white - also I still can’t believe any day I wear those horrible fancy clothes is a chance you take? I honestly thought it was a normal sunday. I mean okay, the drinking got out of hand but it happens, right?”

“Please tell me you at least remember what we need a name for?” Yennefer had asked, getting aggravated. His eyes had grown even more panicked.

“A horse?” Geralt had asked, confused.

“I’m seven months pregnant, Geralt.”

“Fuck.” Anxiety over having an unwanted child had now grabbed Yennefer. “We don’t have a name,” He took her into a deep hug and then started kissing her, “But well we have about two months, still.” Between her tears, Yennefer still had managed to laugh.

“I still can’t believe I forgot most of our wedding. It sucks to be honest.”

“At least you feel bad about it,” Yennefer said, “and I am so glad you didn’t suggest ‘Roach’ as a name in that moment. We wouldn’t have made a week of marriage.”

“I know.” he answered.

It was late afternoon when they rode into the town. Jaskier told Geralt he would alert the teacher of the situation and he would expect them at their home. The teachers house was small by comparison to the ranch but right next to the school which had its own advantages. They knocked on the door and were greeted by the teacher's wife and one of their children.

“Ah, Geralt and Yennefer. Come in!” she said and made room. As they walked in she asked a lot of questions about the room size for the children, how old they were, whether they were healthy. Geralt made some remarks about the size of the ranch to make known that some worth lied there. The teacher’s wife openend the door to the parlor where the teacher sat with Cirilla and one of their children. Cirilla looked about eight, was dressed in a blue dress and had white hair. Yennefer and Geralt exchanged a look and almost began to laugh. At first sight she looked more like his child than any of his did. Cirilla locked eyes with them and after everyone greeted each other and Geralt and Yennefer told her who they were she greeted them with: “I am Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon but you can call me Ciri. Will you take me with you now?”

She stood before them smiling sheepishly. “We could if you want to? We have a ranch with horses.” Geralt told her.

“And we have five children.” Yennefer added, asking herself why he always had to mention the horses before his children.

Ciri nodded.“Yes Jaskier has already told me about all that. Mr. Teacher has already explained to me that I cannot stay here.” she told them.

“I think we’re settled then? I am sure you will love our home.” Yennefer said, beaming while doing so. Ciri seemed to warm up quickly and they hoped it wouldn’t stop once meeting the wall of children they had at home. Her bag was packed quickly since she didn’t have a lot of stuff. Most important was the stuffed lion her grandmother gifted her which she held firmly.

“Can I ride with you?” she asked Geralt.

“Sure.” he smiled as he answered and promptly placed her on Roach who whinnied.

They talked about some basic stuff on the way back home. Her favorite food, color, animal. Stuff to get to know her and ease her into a situation she seemed to accept rather quickly.

---

Back on the Ranch they were greeted by all of them including the dogs standing together and waving. Geralt and Yennefer stopped their horses and got down. The children came nearer but were pretty shy. Eric stood before his siblings and greeted Ciri first. “Hey Ciri, I am Eric.” he said. Lambert and Eskel fist bumped which meant they prepared him for this moment. Geralt gave them a quick thumbs up. Everyone greeted Ciri who stood next to a squatting Yennefer. Ciri whispered in her ear “How am I supposed to remember all of those names?” Yennefer giggled once, then said “Don’t worry you can always ask, we won’t bite.”

Ciri nodded, still a bit unsure of the situation.

Lambert exclaimed: “Who’s hungry? I cooked.”

Geralt then noticed he hadn't eaten all day. His stomach growled, “I am hungry.” he said just as Ciri bravely expressed her hunger as well.

“Follow me!” said Lambert and the whole bunch followed him put.

Vesemir walked up to Geralt. “Sure it wasn’t you that got Pavetta pregnant?”

In another life, Yennefer's anger could kill people as easily as a storm. We’re glad it’s not this.

[ask-de-writer]

A QUIET EVENING WITH THE CMC : MLP Fan Fiction

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

Return to Tales to Read AFTER the Lights are OUT!

A QUIET EVENING WITH THE CMC

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

1208 words

© 2019 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 10/01/19

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

Prompt #3 “Now? Now you listen to me?”

Possible triggers:  graveyard with real ghosts and such.  CMC

As they caught sight of Bonnie, poking her head through the door of her family crypt, the three began to back slowly away.  Sweetie Belle whispering to the other two, “Now?  Now you listen to me?  I told you that coming here was a bad idea.”

Scootaloo replied, “It is not like we are even breaking any sort of rule.  It is still daytime.  The cemetery gate isn't locked yet or anything.”

Bonnie, her cloudy white fur and black mane contrasting well with the aged oak of the crypt door actually agreed.  “You don't need to act frightened.  The orange filly is right.  You have not broken any sort of rules by being here in the daytime, even on the eve of Nightmare Night.  I'm afraid that we don't have any sort of treats for you, though.”

Cautiously, Apple Bloom pointed out, “We might not be quite so cautious if you weren't about half out of that door while it's still closed.  Are you some kind of ghost?”

Bonnie looked back in confusion while she stepped free of the crypt.  “No, I'm not a ghost or anything like that.  The ones here are my friends but I'm not one of them.  I am as alive as you are.  Why would anypony need to open a door?  What does that have to do with going through it?”

The CMC looked at each other blankly.  Apple Bloom pointed, “Are you SURE that you are alive?  See those hinges and lock?  Normal ponies need to unfasten the lock and then they can push the door open, swinging it on those hinges to go in or out.”

Comprehension dawning on her face, Bonnie observed, “So that's what those things are for!  I always wondered.  Before I learned to use a door properly, Zom or Junea always let me out.  I was little then and did not really pay attention.”

The CMC looked at each other in mild consternation.  “Who did you say taught you about using doors?”

Bonnie shrugged, “You know, just the ghosts and my other playmates.  Who else would?”

Pausing, she gave the CMC the old steely eye.  “Exactly what are you doing here?”

Scootaloo looked down and scuffed the grass before she replied, “We heard that Morgripe and his buddies were planning to mess up some graves. That's wrong.  We kinda planned to set them up a sort of “haunted graveyard.”  We got springs and sheets to do fake ghosts that could jump out from behind gravestones.  You know, stuff like that.  Don't want to hurt them, just scare them off so that they don't damage anything.”

Bonnie perked right up!  “Oh, that will be so much fun!  I would love to help you!  I have some friends that would like to help too!  The Nightmare Moon is already up, so they can come out to join us!”

Sweetie Bell looked up at the gibbous moon lurking high in the sky and at the nearly set sun.  “Doesn't the sun have to be down before, um, your buddies can come out?”

“No, silly!  They all follow the Night Mare.  As long as she is up, we can play!  They just usually wait until her sister goes down, that's all.”

Bonnie bounced happily over to a big mausoleum, and stuck her head through the door!  The CMC could not hear anything through the heavy stone and solid door.  

Bonnie cheerfully came back and told them, “Wait here!  I am going to see if Flowering Ash or any of the other Ancient Ones want to help!”

She galloped off towards the back of the cemetery, where it faced the Everfree forest.

Apple Bloom watched her go.  She wondered in a soft voice, “Are Ma and Pa here?  Will they be helping us?”

Sweetie Belle was watching critically and replied, “I don't know, Apple Bloom, but Bonnie just jumped past the wall and it is sort of tumbldown and moss grown.  I have been here before and the back wall was not like that.”

In only a few moments Bonnie came floating serenely back, her legs folded neatly under her as if she were resting on something invisible.  She alighted in front of them and exulted, “We are getting two unicorn litches and Flowering Ash to come help!  We are getting some ghosts too!

“When Flowering Ash gets here, show us how to help and where to set your “haunts!”  The whole graveyard thinks that this is hilarious!”

It was only a few moments before they saw the head of a beautiful gray mare across the moss grown wall.  She reared up, forelegs folded and crossed the wall, her forelegs remaining folded as her huge snakelike body slithered across the stones and undulated swiftly to them.

While the CMC, their eyes bugged out, were watching the lamia, two mostly skeletal unicorn litches leaped gracefully over the wall as well.

With all gathered, Flowering Ash wrapped her long body about the CMC, providing them with a comfortable resting place.  Bonnie, with absolute confidence, joined them in her coils.

Flowering Ash, smiled and suggested, “Please tell us what we need to know to help you set up this trap of frights for those vile vandals.”

Eagerly, Scootaloo dug into a big saddlebag and pulled out parts!  As she set a spring mounted to a cross stick, Apple Bloom pulled out a sheet, bound around soft straw with big googly eyes stuck on!  Sweetie Belle attached trigger strings and set stakes to hold them where hooves would trip them!

Giggling, Bonnie stomped one of the demonstration “ghost's” trigger strings!  The false haunt leaped up, driven by the spring!  It fluttered down flat, except for the bulbous head.  Suddenly it lifted up and floated about, flapping a little.

The CMC clapped hooves in delight!  “A real ghost in our fake one! That is so perfect!”  

They guided the whole group to the area where they had overheard Morgripe and his buddies plotting to cross the cemetery wall.  Choosing tombstones and other grave markers with care, the whole group planted the phony ghosts to provide the best scares.

Thoughtfully, they planted some near the graveyard gate, too.  While they were doing that, Sweetie Belle noticed, “I guess that we are stuck here for the night.  They have locked the gate already.”

Apple Bloom felt the softest of hugs and a gentle neck kiss.  Almost like a breeze, her mane got ruffled.  Her eyes misted up.  “That you, Mom? Dad?  Thanks.”

Flowering Ash pointed out, “If you are here when things happen, it will spoil the effect.  Here, let me help.”

One by one, she held the CMC and lifted them over the wall, setting them gently on their hooves and pulling back to her massive coils for the next.

The next morning, all of Ponyville was abuzz with the story!  Morgripe and his friends had done it again!  They came running over their ladder screaming about ghosts and monsters in the graveyard! Constables opening the gate had got a bit of a fright too, as spring trap “ghosts” jumped out at them!

Morgripe and Co. were in trouble again!  And the CMC, giggling behind their hooves could not say anything about their Nightmare Night adventure that actually worked like it was supposed to!

~THE END~

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to MLP Fan Fiction

Return to Tales to Read AFTER the Lights are OUT!

[graveyardarcana-blog]

Hiking In Vesuvia

author's note: this story was originally an ask that i accidentally deleted. it is about muriel taking mc on a lovely hike through vesuvia mountains. requested by @thebisexualapprentice

•《🥀》•

"Freshly picked red apples from Nadia's garden? Check. Salad with the finest greens in Vesuvia, also from Nadia's garden? Check. Asra's special not-so-magic rose tea, in satchel? Check. And finally, homemade smoked eel, made by yours truly, MC? Check!" I said to myself, checking my list and weeding through a little picnic basket Asra bought for me years ago.

Last time I was visiting Muriel, he invited me to go on a hike with him through the Vesuvian mountains. Of course I gladly accepted, and here I am. He didn't ask for any food, much less a picnic, but I figured it would be nice to surprise him, or at least return the favor of him taking me on such a lovely trip.

"Got your stuff, MC?" Asra asked, leaning on the shop's door frame. He's holding a colorful woven blanket, clearly handmade by a Vesuvian weaver.

"Everything's all ready and packed," I replied, closing the basket and grasping it's handle. "What's that?" I asked curiously, pointing at the blanket in his hands.

"Oh, this? Well, it gets cold on the cliffs in the evenings, and I thought you and Muri would like a blanket. You know, just in case," he said, approaching me and smiling. He placed it in my hands and patted the top of it. "Be safe, okay? I know Muri won't let anything happen to you, but I also know that you get curious sometimes. Just, be careful," he stated.

"I will Asra, I promise I won't wonder off the trail chasing butterflies," I replied, blanket and basket in hand.

Asra laughed and pulled me into a friendly hug, messing up my hair on purpose.

"Oh you dingus!" I hissed, pulling away. He smiled and stepped out of my way, motioning to the door. I glared at him but returned a small smile, walking passed him and out the small decorated door.

"Be careful! Tell Muriel I said hello!" he yelled behind me as he waved goodbye.

"I will!" I shouted back, picking up my pace. I've never been hiking before, but I'm beyond excited. Especially because I'm going with Muriel.

The sound of music, city-goers, and shop owners advertising filled air. Colorful silks and fabrics danced in with the warm summer breeze, and the smell of freshly baked goods swirled through the atmosphere. I took in a deep breath, embracing the scent of seafood, fire-cooked vegetables, and the sweet aroma of my favorite pumpkin bread. Rich perfumes dazzled the streets, blooming flowers covered Vesuvian buildings, and beautiful, diverse bodies swarmed the heart of the city. I twirled and danced through the alleys and pathways, occasionally grasping a stranger's hand and dancing with them. With a soft smile plastered on my face, I made my way through Vesuvia's crowded streets.

"Hey, Olivia!" a familiar voice hollered behind me. I turned around and saw my baker friend, grinning and waving me over. I trotted to his stand and greeted him.

"Hello Selasi! What's the matter?" I asked, playing with a small plant on his counter.

"Oh nothing dear magician, I just heard that you have a date with a certain someone," he replied, eyebrow raised.

I smiled and said, "Why yes I do, in fact, I'm on my way to meet him now."

"How wonderful!" Selasi cheered. "I've got something for you, a gift to share with this special person," he said, reaching behind him. He presented me with a fresh, extra large loaf of pumpkin bread. "Your favorite!" he exclaimed. "I'm sure your date will enjoy it too."

"You are too kind Selasi," I stated, grasping the loaf. "Could I pay you a small amount?" I asked.

Selasi shook his head. "No can-do MC, it's a gift from me to you," he replied, smiling.

I huffed. "Fine, fine, but do expect a tip next time!" I said as I carefully packed the bread in my basket. Standing up, I gave Selasi a quick, "Thank you!" and was on my way.

"You're welcome MC! Safe travels!" he shouted.

I continued walking down Vesuvia's colorful, bustling streets until the crowds started to thin out and I saw the edge of the forest in the distance. Soft murmurs of travelers and wonderers could be heard, along with the sound of waves crashing against Vesuvian shores. Muriel told me that he would meet me in this spot, as he didn't want me walking in the forest alone, nor did he want to navigate the heart of the city. I brushed off my clothing and took a seat on a small bench resting in the shadows of an old, damaged building. Small birds chirped around me, filling any silence on the city's edge. I closed my eyes for a moment, until I heard a deep, rumbling voice.

"MC?" Muriel asked as he approached me. I opened my eyes and looked up at him, smiling. Ianna was trailing behind him, wagging her tail and panting.

"Hi Muri," I said as I stood up. He is much taller than me and intimidating to most street-goers, but I feel a strong sense of safety and security whenever I'm with him. His height, figure, and demeanor never bothered me, even when we first met. I always found it unique and intriguing. "You look nice today," I complimented him, running my hands over his furs and cloak. He also had the green scarf I bought him wrapped loosely around his neck.

"I... Thank you," he replied, his cheeks turning bright pink. He played with his hands and looked towards the forest. "You do too, I mean, you look nicer than me," he said quietly, still blushing.

I chuckled. "Oh nonsense! If anyone here has a sense of fashion, it's certainly you," I stated, examining his outfit. All of the furs and fabrics perfectly came together and matched, and he never wore any flashy colors. Everything meshed beautifully, and it reminded me of the forest itself.

He smiled softly and looked at me. His green eyes sparkled and his fluffy black hair blew gently in the wind. After taking a moment to look at me, he pointed to the basket and blanket I was holding. "What's that?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Oh! I thought it would be nice to make us some food for when we get to the top of the mountain," I said, opening the basket. "I've got fresh pumpkin bread from Selasi, apples and salad from Nadia's garden, and homemade smoked eel. I made it myself," I explained as I weaved through all the contents to show him. "And this," I started, closing the basket and holding up the colorful blanket, "is from Asra. He wanted me to bring it with us incase it gets cold on the cliff."

Muriel stood still, eyebrows furrowed together. "You did all of this... For me?" he questioned, shocked at all the things I had brought.

"Of course I did," I replied. "You invited me to do something fun that I've never done before, so I figured I would do a little something special for you," I elaborated.

"But... Why?" he asked quietly, now looking me in the eyes.

I raised my free hand up to his face. He flinched at first, but quickly relaxed with my touch. "Because you deserve it," I said, gently rubbing my thumb against his cheek. He put his hand up to mine and let out a sigh. "Now come on, let's go hiking," I stated, grinning.

"I guess that is what we came here for," Muriel said, giving my hand a squeeze before letting it down. He grasped the basket and blanket from my arm and approached Ianna, who seemed to be antsy to start exploring. He pat her back, saying, "Hop on, MC."

I grinned and jogged over to Ianna, running my fingers through her soft, gray fur. She turned to lick my hand and wagged her fluffy tail.

Suddenly, large hands grasped my waist and lifted me up onto Ianna's back. "Hey!" I said, laughing. "I could've done that myself, you know."

Muriel chuckled as he smoothed out some of the wolf's fur. "I know," he said, throwing Asra's blanket over his shoulder and resting my basket on his arm. "Let's go Ianna," he stated as he started walking. The wolf happily trotted alongside Muriel, occasionally looking back to check on me.

I leaned forward and rested my head on the back of Ianna's neck, wrapping my arms around her chest. She licked my arm and scooted in closer to Muriel. I looked up at him and saw him smiling, adoring the sight of me and Ianna getting along so well.

Beautiful oak and spruce trees began to tower over us as we made our way into the forest. Patches of golden sunlight shown through the treetops and lit up the path. Birds and colorful insects flew around us, and flower petals blew with the wind. Wild roses, daisies, forget-me-nots, and poppies littered the bush, bright reds, pinks, blues, and yellows clashing against the greenery. Occasionally, I saw tiny field mice hop around tree roots and patches of grass.

"This place is beautiful Muriel," I said, wonder and awe filling my gaze. "I wouldn't mind being here often," I stated, looking upon the gorgeous scenery.

"Y-you could, if you... If you wanted to," Muriel muttered, clearly flustered. He wasn't used to much company, let alone someone who really wanted to be around him.

I sat up on Ianna's back and looked up at him. "I would really like that Muri," I replied, a light blush painted on my cheeks.

He turned to face me and smiled softly, green eyes gazing at me lovingly. "S-so would I," he said quietly.

I reached for his hand, intertwining my fingers with his. Bright red pigment covered his cheeks and neck all the way down to his chest. "I can stop if you want," I stated, worried I had made the wrong move.

Rather than saying anything, Muriel held my hand tighter and continued on the path. I smiled and rubbed my thumb against his skin. Ianna wagged her tail and scooted over to bump us together. Muriel chuckled and patted her head with his free hand.

We soon approached the beginning of the Vesuvian mountains. The path became much steeper, and piles of rocks were increasing in abundance. The trees were huge and their canopies were much darker than those in the main forest. A lot less sunlight shown through the leaves.

"Okay MC," Muriel began, lifting me off of Ianna's back. "This is where the real hiking starts. Ianna, stay behind us incase MC slips," he commanded, rubbing her back. She barked in response.

"Just hold my hand and follow my lead, okay?" he requested, looking at me with worry. "I dont want you getting hurt."

I smiled and gripped his hand. "Will do," I replied. He nodded and pressed his forehead against mine for a few moments, then stepped back.

"Let's go then," he said, taking the first few steps. I gladly obliged.

Climbing up the mountain was a lot easier than Muriel had let it off to be, and I was having the time of my life. Beautiful luminescent mushrooms glowed in shadowy places, interesting bugs and herbs infested the mountain side, creating sweet scents and gorgeous biodiversity. Birds sang and families of wild deer laid in small clearings. Small creeks and ponds were everywhere. I could also hear the sound of a distant waterfall.

Muriel suddenly stopped and bent over, picking up a pretty, colorful flower I had never seen before. It was about as big as my palm and consisted of blues and violets. He brushed my hair behind my ear and placed the beautiful plant on top of it. His huge hand fell to the crook between my neck and shoulder.

"Pretty," he said. "Both of you."

I smiled and got on my tip toes. "Pick me up for a moment," I requested.

He looked confused, but nodded and made sure he was grounded so we wouldn't slip. He grasped my waist and lifted me up to his face with ease.

"Thank you," I murmured, gently kissing his cheek. "I couldn't reach," I giggled.

Muriel chuckled and pulled me into a hug. I wrapped my arms around his neck, calmness and warmth coming over me. He he grunted softly, like he hadn't been hugged in years.

Ianna barked, obviously eager to get to the top of the mountain. Muriel shook his head and carefully put me down. "Ready to go, aren't you pup?" he questioned, knowing the answer. Ianna whined and inched forward.

"I suppose so," I said, holding Muriel's hand once more. "Are we close?" I asked.

"Very, just a few more minutes," Muriel replied, making sure he had his footing before continuing. I grinned and happily kept up the pace.

The trees were starting to become smaller, and the canopies more open now. With the path now wider, Ianna caught up to me and Muriel, pressing against my side. Warm colors started showing through the leaves and the air became cooler. We approached a large, rocky opening where the sky was now fully visible.

"Careful," Muriel stated as we climbed up the rocks. I followed his movements and steps, watching to make sure I didn't slip. Ianna hopped up the larger rocks and quickly made it to the top, sitting down and waiting for us patiently. Muriel made it up soon after her, reached for my hands, and pulled me up.

Nothing could've prepared me for the sight in front of me. I gasped, staring in awe at the beautiful sunset. Vibrant oranges, reds, purples and pinks filled the evening sky. Fluffy clouds danced in the air, gold and pink hues painted all over them. The sun casted off a deep orange light, covering me, Muriel, and Ianna in beautiful color. But above all, I could see the palace and entire city of Vesuvia. Gold plating and marble glowed under the sunset, sparkling and gleaming in the warm light. Lanterns and distant lights looked like gorgeous yellow orbs, and the marketplace was vibrant with color. All of the buildings had an orange hue, and the river cutting through the heart of Vesuvia glowed a bright, beautiful aqua. I turned to my right and saw the vast ocean, patches of yellow, orange, and red glowing on the dark blue waters. Large ships and small sailboats rocked against the gentle waves. Vesuvians resided on the streets and beaches, enjoying the twilight.

"Muriel... This, this is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," I said, turning to face him. "Did you know it would look like this?" I asked, still in shock over the landscape.

Muriel blushed and fiddled with his hands. "I come here a lot, I-I wanted you to see it too," he replied. His black hair glowed in the light and his eyes sparkled brightly.

"Oh Muri," I began, pulling him into an embrace. "It's amazing, thank you so much," I murmured softly, snuggling up close to his chest. "I love it," I added, looking up at him.

He smiled and rested his head on top of mine, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. His body relaxed in my arms and he let out a relieved sigh.

"How about we have our meal now?" I suggested, pulling away gently.

Muriel smiled and nodded, taking the blanket off his shoulder and laying it down a few feet away from the cliff's edge. He sat down and put the basket in the middle of our spot. Ianna wagged her tail and curled up beside him, resting her head on his leg.

I approached the two and plopped down on the side opposite to Muriel. I opened the basket of goods, spreading them on the blanket. And without any words, we began to eat our meal, watching the wonderous sunset.

•《🥀》•

hi guys! i hope you enjoyed this story. it's a bit longer than originally intended, but i'm a sucker for detail and solid storylines. if you have any suggestions for a story, please check out my request post and send them through an ask! thank you!

-liv🖤

[paddy-nic]

Kopa the Lion

Decided to finally bring this guy out from years of imprisonment in the back of my mind and into existence. Technically also came from my first fanfic waaayy long ago...somewhat. I just won’t explain. Attempted to accompany this reveal with a drawing... Yeah, second drawing so I’m still in the “needs a lot of practice” phase of that new found hobby. Holy Noodle Limbs Paddy...

Yeah so that being said it can be inferred this is a very rough design as I’m still teaching myself to draw. Most notably that he looks a lot fatter than I had intended. I have been working on different ‘styles’ to find one I can really work with but went again with the “Sonic-Style” for this one. It was good practice.

((Using the same standard bio format I made for Anput, my original oc))

Species: Lion

Age: 27

Sexuality: Hetero/Demi(?)

Appearance:  At a good height which is typical for Mobian lions. His mane is of a rustic red and he has longer “hair” that comes down well along the side of his face resembles his father’s ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Has a goldenrod hue to his fur but his underbelly, muzzle and fingers/toes are of a tan color. His snout, palms and soles have a noticeable brown tint that fade. He has a large scar on his chest from a nearly fatal injury he sustained as a youngster.

Physique:  A good solid build but not overly muscular; an attractive middle ground between the two. Standard lion tail. Purple eyes.

General Attire:  Jeans, flannel, and his chucks. Almost always. He tends to roll his sleeves up to just below the elbows. In colder weather he’ll keep the sleeves down and possibly wear a jacket over.

Personality:  At a young age he was pretty cocky and had a slight sense of superiority towards others. Though those went away in time (mostly the latter), every once in a while they might come out, usually, if prompted. Otherwise he is quite down to earth and enjoys the company of others. Though generally high spirited, he sees the world as ‘gilded’ and lives mindful of some of the more ulterior/malicious intents that others may have. A person that has a lot more going on on the inside than what he outwardly depicts - mostly regarding family and romantic life. 

Likes: 

Grunge

Seeing the good come out in others

Coffee

The outside ‘feel’ (windows open, light breeze, natural sunlight ,etc)

Strenuous Activities (running, lifting, carpentry, etc) but also napping?

Dislikes: 

Ulterior motives

The fact he has never met his sister

Unidentifiable things touching him in the dark

Description:  Came from a very prominent family but since being on his own, is a blue collar worker through and through. He is very self-sufficient but whenever he works with someone he ensures both equally get something out of it. He has no inheritance from his family as they think he is dead (we’ll get to that) but is comfortable with his steady job and income. Really just takes it day-by-day and lives his life as such.

Backstory: As mentioned, he came from a prominent family...he was a prince and there was no doubt he was going to follow in his parents footsteps. However, in his early teen years he was attacked, by whom he still is unsure, and this left him permanently scarred and on the fringes of life. All in all he should not have survived but was bandaged up and aided to health by a stranger who he now considers to be like a godfather. Initially he just lied low and didn’t return for fear that his attacker would finish the job. After a year or so of this, he got wind that his family had him presumed dead and that there were already random people arriving to make claims that they were the “long lost Kopa.” Through judgement and counsel, decided to not to make a return since it would likely cause more trouble especially if they have already grieved and overcome the hardships of his death. All in all it was the wrong decision and he knows and regrets this deeply. But as each year had passed, he knew he was getting further and further from going back and soon came a point where he knew fully he was leaving his family behind for good.

At the time he was betrothed to his best friend and the two loved each other dearly. His “death” took a terrible toll on her as he found out when he accidentally ran into her at a coffee shop a few years later. Though she did not recognize him and Kopa kept his identity secret at the moment, she mentioned her side of the story - that she recovered and though was still very close to his parents, she eventually married another and was pregnant with a son to which she plans to name Kopa. This further reaffirmed that he had gone too far and can’t go back.

In his late teens/early twenties he met a peculiar jackal and became very close platonic friends with her. They even lived together for a good part of one of those years. She had a few run ins with some bad people and after a while acquired a few enemies in the local area. One night she vanished and he was sure her pursuers got to her. This too took a toll on Kopa as he now was on the receiving end of losing someone dear to him. He managed to get back on his feet and for half a decade now has lived a normal life and is glad for the stability. 

Five random selections from different OC Reference Questions I’ve seen:

Does your character have any enemies? Just one...

Are they a team player or do they prefer to be solo? Either or. But if he’s with a team or in a group of some kind he tries to make sure everyone in the group will benefit.

Do they prefer romance or affection? He hates the sappy romantic stuff but likes “playful affection”. Just knowing that there is mutual affection and love is all he needs. Because then it can leave more time and energy for fun and enjoying the other person.

If your character had one thing to say to their parents before they died, what would it be? “I’m alive and safe and miss you all more than I can bare.”

Is there a single song, phrase, or quote to describe your character? He is quite literally “a prince among thieves.” As for songs, “The Day I Tried To Live” by Soundgarden is pretty darn close. One of his favorites too.

[bregee13]

The Badly Written Lovestory of Hunter and Polly's Parents

Once upon a time, there was a young woman who lived in Watersong. She naturally had a beautiful soft voice and loved the ocean water. She lived there for her entire life, and longed to explore the world. She imagined the many wonderful places in the world, and how each one  would be better than the last.

One day, a traveler arrived at the village. He seemed to get a lot of attention. Even more attention than the  glorious Rose! He must be special in some way... The woman pushed her way through the crowd to get a better look at the stranger. And sure enough, he was very special. He was a handsome man. He had grey fur, gorgeous bangs, a pony tail, and he wore a neat light blue suit. He was a bit older than the young woman, but that's okay. He was very attractive. He was confident and cocky which added to the appeal. The lady walked up to the man, and asked if he knew his way around. The man smirked, like he knew everything the place had to offer. Regardless, he accepted the offer of the tour. Likely to encourage the lady. The man then introduced himself. He called himself "Wilfre". It was a strange name, but it had a nice ring to it. Definitely a name to remember.

After the tour, Wilfre mentioned how expensive the hotels were. Lovestruck, the woman offered to pay for anything he couldn't afford. Wilfre thanked her, grateful he didn't have to waste his rapo-coins at all. By the end of Wilfre's visit, the woman tracked him down. She asked him if she could join him on his journey. While Wilfre didn't want some woman following his tail, he agreed, thinking he could use her and eventually abandon her later. The woman was overjoyed. She was finally seeing the world! ...With a handsome man by her side too. It couldn't get much better than that. 'Maybe we'll move to a luxurious island and get married! We'll have eight kids, and a giant mansion! Or maybe a cute little cottage in a forest!' She thought this to herself over and over. They continued to travel to their next location.

They arrived at Lavasteam. This was a nice place.... but it wasn't as luxurious as the Lady thought it would be. She still did her best to smile and enjoy herself. Maybe Wilfre will spend some time with her... But no. Wilfre distanced himself from the woman who accompanied him. Instead he spent most of his time getting drunk with the Lavasteam villagers and hitting on the chicks there. And yes, he was as cocky as ever. The poor woman didn't enjoy her stay at Lavasteam, and just like the workers, wanted to go back to Watersong. She ended up paying for everything Wilfre wanted. She couldn't just leave him like that. Besides, he told her he was broke. When he finally left Lavasteam, Wilfre almost left without her. 'It was just a mistake...' The woman repeated to herself over and over.

It happened every time. They would visit a village, Wilfre would go out enjoying himself, the woman would foot every bill, and Wilfre would always try to leave without her. She tried to doubt it, but she eventually realized that Wilfre was using her. She lost all affection for the man, and only continued to join him because this was her only way of travel. Hopefully she'll return home soon....

One day the Raposa arrived at the Raposa Village. Once Wilfre stepped foot on the village ground, he was surrounded by fans. Man, these Raposa are even more excited than the ones at Watersong and everywhere else! What kind of place is this? Turned out they were at Wilfre's home village. Everyone knew who he was. He's a major celebrity here... His cocky attitude shined even more brightly than before. He even gave speeches in front of the... Eternal Flame!? That's the stuff of legends! The woman stood in awe. This had to be the very first village! She then heard a bit of Wilfre's speech. He went on and on about how the Raposa deserved to create their own creations, and how The Creator is a tyrant controlling them like marionettes. She was shocked by his words, 'the creator isn't cruel! This man truly IS evil!' Everyone cheered him anyway. ' I suppose they would know more about the creator... They do live in the original village after all...' While she disagreed with Wilfre's statements, she kept the idea in the back of her mind.

After the speech, the lady wandered off to explore the village on her own. It was a nice and quaint village. Everyone seemed to know one another, and the trees made the air fresh and sweet. It was quite a nice change of scenery. She then came across a man on top of one of the houses. It seemed as if he was fixing the roof. "Hello up there!" The man, shocked, turned around and almost slipped off the roof. He grabbed onto the ledge and hung on. "Are you alright sir!? Should I go get help?" The man climbed back on the roof and responded. "Y-yes mam! I'm alright! Anything I can help ya with?" His face was a nice shade of red. "Oh no, I'm fine. I just wanted to say hello! ...Are you sure you're alright? Your face is all red." "What? Ah, naw! I'm good! You just surprised me that's all!" The man smiled at her, trying to convince her that he was okay. The woman frowned. "You don't look good at all! I should get you a doctor! A glass of water at least!" She looked around for a nearby clinic. "But I'm alright! See?" He grinned from ear to ear. "Though I see your point. I could use a lunch break." He jumped down from the roof. He tried to land on his feet, but landed flat on his face. He began to groan in pain. The woman ran over to the rapo on the ground. "Oh my goodness... Are you okay?! This is all my fault... I'll get you help!" She was about to go get help when the man slowly got off the ground. He began to laugh... "I'm fine! I'm fine! This ain't the first time I did that!" The woman turned around towards the man. "You worried me! How could you?!" The man laughed more, holding his arm in pain. "You could have died doing that!" She grew irritated. He chuckled only to ache all over. "I didn't though... Ain't that a good thing?" His expression became more serious. "Sorry I startled ya." He held out his hand. "The name's Builde. ...Bobbery Builde." The woman hesitated, but eventually shook his hand. "Nice to meet you..." She introduced herself and told him she was visiting. "I figured you weren't from round these parts... Besides, you're far too pretty to be from here..." She blushed and stood frozen in place. She nervously laughed to herself. "I'm headed to Cookie's. You know, a visitor such as yourself deserves the finest cuisine. You should come with!" She looked away. "I... I'm not sure..." He smiled. "Come on. It'll be my treat! It's the least I can do..." She smiled, and looked back at him. "Okay." She began to follow Bobbery on his way to the restaurant. "Oh, and no tricks okay?" She joked, only slightly serious. "I'll do my best!" He joked back.

At Cookie's Restaurant, they placed their order and found a table to eat at. "Ze usual Mister 'Bob ze Builde'?" "Of course! What else would it be?" "Ah, what will ze lady order?" "Hmm... I'll have you're finest Star Baki Steak please. Medium Rare." "Zat will be all? Zi shall prepare!" Cookie went into the kitchen to prepare the food. The two rapos began to chat with one another. "So how'd you get to this worn down place?" He sipped at a cup of coffee. "I came here with someone else. The one that was at the flame a while ago..." "Oh! Ya mean Wilfre?" "Why, yes!" "He's well known round here ya know." "I have noticed, yes." "He musta seen something in ya. He won't let just anyone travel with him." Her ears perked. "You really think that?" 'I highly doubt that...' She thought to herself. She knew he would take advantage of anyone he could. "Of course I do! I know so! ...He's real lucky to have a girl like you...." He looked away, avoiding eye contact. "What!?" She jumped in her seat. "It's not like that!" Aside from the occasional compliment, Wilfre never acted like he wanted a relationship with her. ...In fact, it seemed like he never wanted a real relationship with anybody. 'I guess he's too narcissistic to love anyone else...' She sighed to herself. "Wait. Y-you ain't a thing?" She shook her head no. "Oh... sorry. I coulda sworn..." "No it's fine. I... I thought the same once..." She drank some of her tea. It had a distinct flavor. The food arrived at the table, and they began to dig in. "…" Neither of them said anything. It was as if time stood still. "Ya know... I was wondering...." Bobbery broke the silence. "...How long you staying here?" The lady paused, and thought. "I'm... not quite sure. Wilfre can be unpredictable at times. He could be here a few weeks or a few months. As soon as he leaves, I'll make my way back to Watersong." "Well, from what I can tell, He's thinkin of staying here for quite a while..." She sighed. Watersong seemed so far away... "He didn't tell ya, did he?" She shook her head. "No... He didn't..." "That ain't right! He should apologize for leavin ya stuck here!" He got up from his seat.  "Please don't do anything! If you do, he would just deny it!" He slowly sat back down. "I should just face the truth. I'll never see the light of Watersong again..." She frowned. "Hey! You can't just say that! You'll get there one day!" Tears began to fill her eyes. "I'll never feel the sand on my feet... I'll never hear a single opera song... Not again..." Tears fell down her face. Her watery eyes reminded her of Watersong's clear waters. It made her cry even more. "Hey hey hey!! No, none a that! Look at me. Look at me!" Bobbery put his hands on her shoulders, and looked into her eyes. "Everything's gonna be okay. Don't worry bout it." She began to calm down. "...Tell ya what. There's a nice beach round here. Right about that a way. How bout I take you?" She did her best to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I....I would enjoy that." Bobbery paid Cookie for the meal, and the two left the building.

The two walked to the beach together. The beach wasn't crowded, and the breeze was nice. They stepped onto the sand. "It's probably not as good as what you're used to..." The lady stepped into the water. "No...it's... it's great. Beautiful actually..." She let out a deep sigh, watching the waves crash at her feet. "Lemme guess. It ain't the same." He sighed. "Guess I failed huh?" He laughed nervously. "What? No! This place is very..." She looked out into the distance. "...nice." He frowned. "...But it ain't no Watersong. Am I right?" "I... I suppose so... But that isn't your fault..." "Guess not. But it sure feels that way." "What was your name again? Bobbery? Was that it?" "Yeah..." "Mind if I call you Bobby?" "Sounds kinda corny... but sure." "Bobby, do you think I will ever get to go home?" Bob gave a small smile. "Yeah. Yeah I do."

They then spent the rest of the afternoon watching the waves, chatting with one another. By the time they were ready to leave, the Creator drawn sun was setting. "Hey it's getting late. I gotta go rest up for tomorrow. Got a lotta catchin up to do..." "I'm so sorry for taking up your time." "Na, don't worry about it! I had fun." "Same here! It was a nice change for once." "I'll see ya some other time! Get home safe okay?" Bob blushed. "I.. I'm sorry! I forgot... Just.... be safe okay?" "It's okay. I will..." She looked at the ground, unsure of what to do next. Bob began to walk home when he noticed that she was just standing there. He turned around. "You okay?" She paused before responding to him. "I... I'm not sure..." "Hey, you're gonna be fine! Go get some rest. Should help you relax." "Of course but..." "Do ya have someplace to stay?" She took a moment to think. Wilfre probably didn't give her a place to stay on her own. She could beg to stay with him, but she really didn't want to do that... "No. I don't believe I do." Bobbery sighed. "I might regret this but... You can stay with me if ya like." "Really?" "Yeah. It's a bit cozy though." "Thank you so much!" "No problem. It's only temporary though. Till you get back on your feet." "Of course. I understand." She hugged him. "Thank you..."

After that, Bobbery and the lady from Watersong lived together. They ended up becoming good friends, and decided to live together a little longer. Bobbery began to expand the house, making it more suitable to live in. After a while, the two began to date one another. Over time their relationship became more serious. They began to prepare to start a family. During this, Wilfre's accusations against The Creator grew more serious. People were starting to go against the Creator and their methods. The two Raposa brought a baby boy into the world. They named him Hunter. The kid was very calm, and almost never rebelled against his parents. Wilfre's accusations became so strong, that he had even accused the Mayor of wrongdoing. He argued and argued with him until he couldn't anymore. Almost two years after Hunter was born, they provided another baby. This time it was a girl they named Polly. Unlike Hunter, she was a very rambunctious child. She liked to pose a challenge, and could be a handful at times. After the latest argument between Wilfre and The Mayor, Wilfre snapped. He decided that that night, he would take the Book of Life, and create his own creations. The news of what Wilfre had done spread all throughout the village. When hearing that Wilfre ran off out of the village, the woman thought to herself, 'He finally succeeded in abandoning me.... Good for him'.

-------------💜Info💜-------------

I really wanted to write about this somewhere, but it didn't fit anywhere. It's a lot longer than I thought it would be, so I apologize for that. If you're wondering why their mom is referred to as "The Lady/Woman", it's because she doesn't really have a name. At least not yet anyway. This is because she isn't that important of a character, and doesn't really have to have one. It's also due to the fact that I drew her once, and realized that she looked somewhat similar to Eudora. I then thought of the ways they could be the same person. After a while I figured that it didn't make much sense if they were the same person, and that I should preserve Eudora as she originally was. Unless I come up with a name for her, she'll be nameless. I guess it adds a sense of mystery to her huh?

[highgaarden]

fic  |  12:51

12:51;

or: Bonnie, Caroline, and a superheroes origin story in five parts.

Bonnie+Caroline; Klaus/Caroline, Bonnie/Damon | wc. 7373 | ch. 2/5

read on: AO3 / ff.net

this fic is an ode of my love for @ishenwulf and @icebluecyanide, and solid proof that headcanons do not just remain screams between us. half of this fic belongs to them, simply because their existence amaze me so much i just had to stuff the evidence of it into this story.

i hope you all enjoy.

.

.

    —

Part Two

Call It Fate, Call It Karma

—

.

.

 Removed from the mayhem and massacre of New Orleans, there wasn’t much for Klaus to do in New York. He tried his hand in being protector of the night, but after Caroline realised he’d been tailing her for some time, she was quite angry with him.

She realised he’d been tailing her when she heard his admiring cheers after kicking a newly-turned vampire in the jaw.

“Couldn’t have done it better myself, sweetheart!” Klaus applauded, pocketing his binoculars.

“How long have you been following me?” she demanded. She craned her neck to look up at him.

From his perch on the rooftop, he said, “A few hours.”

Caroline stared at him, unimpressed.

“Four nights now,” he admitted.

Caroline waited, still.

“Two weeks,” he sighed, figuring it best to be truthful. He crossed his fingers behind his back.

Caroline, without a word, left.

He noticed she was more careful with the way she walked now because he hardly heard her at all. His apologies had been met with silence. He resolved to amend his mistake and reduced his stalking to just twice a week, until it became increasingly harder to track her down.

Klaus visited the apartment four times the following week and managed to miss Caroline every single time. Damon, elbow deep in a tub of Bonnie’s Phish Food, was disgusted to find Klaus in his sanctum sanctorum, poking a finger into the tall stack of books Bonnie had fake-borrowed from the library.

The books fell with a clatter, or would have, had Klaus not put his super speed to good use to pick them up before they hit the floor.

“Bored much?”

“I was locked up for nearly a decade. It doesn’t take much to amuse me.” Klaus had moved on to Caroline’s collection of small cacti lining the windowsill. They used to be grouped in the middle of the kitchen island, but Damon had moved them there to prove a point. When Bonnie easily stepped over them to venture out into the night, Damon figured he might have underestimated the peril of the prickly plants.

“If you like it here so much, why don’t you just move in?” Damon asked with a mouth full of ice-cream. He followed that mouthful with several hasty gulps of JD. “That was rhetorical. Get the hell off my couch.”

Klaus peered owlishly at him. “Are you worry-drinking?”

“No,” Damon said, dumping the now-empty bottle for a new one.

Klaus went ahead on his prowl around the room, studying things, touching things. He had a particular way of observing an object, meaning: if it wasn’t Caroline’s, it was discarded into a pile in a corner of the room.

All of the things in that pile belonged to Damon.

“What are you doing?” Damon screeched, scandalized.

“Making room for me, of course,” Klaus said.

“Of course?” Damon pitched his bottle at Klaus’s head, but forgot that Klaus was more than a thousand years old and knew how to duck. The bottle bounced – miraculously – against the mantelpiece and then landed squarely in the middle of the pile.

Klaus looked satisfied. “Good, that’s the living room sorted. Now which one’s your room?”

 —

 Word of Bonnie and Caroline’s plight for the seemingly-impossible had taken Dumbo by storm. Sometimes, in the middle of Bonnie levitating a drunk werewolf by the ankles, a fan would come and ask for a picture.

“Where’d you learn how to do that?” Kieran from the grocery store asked in awe.

“YouTube,” Bonnie answered. She turned her palms upwards and the werewolf crumpled against the alley wall.

“Dude, does he have fur—”

“Hi, Kieran,” Caroline appeared out of nowhere as she greeted him warmly. She made sure to deepen her voice. It sounded a bit like a growl now, and probably diminished the warmth. Kieran looked like he was going to piss his pants from excitement.

“How do you know my name?” he asked, mouth agape. “Should we exchange numbers now? I’m good at texting. Holy shit, your eyes – holy fuck, are you a va—?”

“You short-change me every week. Also? If you’re trying to clean up the environment, why even offer plastic bags at the counter?” Caroline narrowed her eyes, wondering if that counted as criminal activity.

Bonnie inclined her head. It was only a small shake, but Caroline sighed and understood.

“Anyway. You saw nothing. You were probably on the way home to go marathon Homestuck and jerk off to how many people you scam daily with the price of your so-called free range eggs. I checked your supplier, buddy.  All caged! Caged by fiends—”

“Caroline,” Bonnie said in her let’s-get-a-move-on voice.

Caroline finished compelling him and sent him on his merry way. “How’s Fluffy doing?”

“He’ll live,” Bonnie said. She inspected a nick in her arm that Fluffy had managed to scrape with his one sharp canine. His other had fallen off when Bonnie punched his face with a wall. “What’s next on the list?”

After carefully pocketing Fluffy’s freshly inked contract, Caroline pulled out her phone. Her shadowed eyes appeared darker in the light the screen provided in the alleyway. “Gotta check out that warehouse in Midtown. Klaus said it’ll be hot tonight.”

“Klaus,” Bonnie repeated. Her tone implied she didn’t like the idea, but she didn’t despise it either, which Caroline chose to view with optimism. “Is this going to be a thing now?”

“No,” Caroline said too quickly. She straightened her spine and managed to look dignified even as she said, “I just agreed, very unenthusiastically might I add, that he could be our intel. Since he does know the seedy underbelly of this stinkhole city.”

“He probably gave birth to the seedy underbelly of this stinkhole city,” Bonnie muttered. “Anyway, that’s like, what – forty minute walk? Forget it, I’ll Uber there.”

“Jeez, Bonnie.” Caroline rolled her eyes. “Not like you haven’t done this before. Hop on.”

A breeze and thirty-five blocks later they arrive at their destination, Bonnie’s cape whipping behind her as she lopes gracefully to her feet. Caroline grudgingly admired it, despite hating how impractical it was.

But then again, it made Bonnie look incredibly cool, especially when she did that thing where she lifted herself into the air.

“I see you hating,” Bonnie notes, “and I raise you your mask and how it does almost nothing to hide your identity.”

“I like them to be able to hear me talk,” Caroline shot back. “When we start going after actual creatures of the night instead of undead jock types, maybe I’ll take more care—”

“Shh.” Bonnie pressed a finger to her lips. She stood stock-still, chanting something under her breath. A minute later a light wind blew strands of her hair away from her forehead. “I sense at least twelve.”

“Now there’s a party,” Caroline said and snapped out her extendable baton. She didn’t need it, but appreciated the aesthetics.

 —

 Damon returned from grocery duties laden with things they did not usually buy. He knows this because he would edit the grocery list heavily whenever Caroline left it on the counter for Bonnie to find. Today, Bonnie followed him to the corner market because he refused to show her where he’d hidden the list.

“Why do we need kale?” He pulled a face.

“It’s amazing how you still think you’re included in this pronoun,” Bonnie said. She walked right past the pork rinds and into the grains aisle, where she reached for the quinoa. “I spend my nights jumping up buildings. It’s called maintenance, Damon.”

“Qui-NO­­-a,” Damon tossed the pack back on the shelf. “Am I just going to starve, then?”

“There’s Mike’s Pizza right around the corner,” Bonnie replied, unfazed. She grabbed the quinoa again. “Why don’t you just go home?”

Uncharacteristic silence is all that comes from Damon’s mouth, which opens and closes and opens again. His eye twitches, his mouth pulls into something other than his token smirk, for once. “It’s getting… harder.”

Bonnie bites her lip. She’d been avoiding the conversation, clearly. “I see.”

“Seeing you is a nice reprieve,” he offered.

“Got it.” Bonnie sized up the contents of the trolley, then put the quinoa back on the shelf. Damon perks up. “Wanna get a pie to-go? It’s been a while since scrabble night.”

“Are- are you sure?”

“The crime can wait.” She shrugged. “I just got a manicure anyway – not really feeling like punching much tonight.”

“Don’t you usually just—?” Damon waved his arms around, fingers jerking. “Levitate ‘em? Make brain matter leak out of their ears?”

“You tell me,” Bonnie snickered. “Aren’t you supposed to be the first ever foremost best quality expert on my alter ego life?”

Damon gasped. “So you do read WatchOutVillainz.com!”

—

 Caroline’s room was a hive of secrecy. The only person who was ever allowed in there was Bonnie, who usually came in through the adjoining bathroom. Whenever Bonnie did so, they let the shower run and talked in whispers, just because they knew it would grate at Damon.

There was something tugging at the corner of her mind as she swept down the street and climbed up her fire exit and into the window of her room.

The night before last, when she and Bonnie had ambushed those twelve vampires in the middle of their midnight snack, three of them had managed to skedaddle their way out of there. She had beat the others to an inch of their undead lives, Bonnie keeping them in place by simmering the blood in their necks, and only one name had come up.

Her bedroom did not really reflect her work ethic. When she decorated, she had placed comfort, coziness and warmth above efficiency, with quilted throw pillows and Moroccan rugs and a leather ottoman inherited from her late grandparents.

Her walk-in closet told a different story.

Pushing aside winter wear, she found what she’d been looking for: a safe. Inside the safe was a file cabinet, meticulously organized. It took a while to find the file, because she wasn’t sure whether it had been filed under R, E or V.

In the end, it was in the ‘MISC.’ section. She pinched the file firmly between her fingers and out slid all her surveilled information on Raul the Eurovision Vampire.

She had caught him in a shady bar, after he’d eaten the entire room because he’d lost in the Man! I Feel Like A Woman!: A Tribute to Shania Twain karaoke competition. He’d eaten them because in addition to not applauding him after he finished his rendition of You’re Still The One, they also didn’t believe he was the same Raul who had won the annual international TV song competition back in 1959, simply because if he truly had, he’d be dead by now.

Mostly it was the applause thing.

Raul the Eurovision Vampire had on a long cape that trailed across the blood-smeared floor. He liked wearing high-heeled stiletto boots that gave the appearance of him hovering in mid-air, and brought them up in conversation any chance he got. He ditched those boots when he discovered Caroline was not above clawing up a drainpipe to chase after him.

She skimmed through his contract and found his number; a few seconds later she had her phone out.

Raul answered on the fourth ring. “I’m not home,” he hissed, and hung up.

Caroline tried again.

“You are nothing but persistent!” Raul announced despairingly. “Is it not enough that you’ve banished me from the only home I’ve ever known; denied me the simple splendour of finally belonging?”

“Weren’t you born in Romania or something?”

There was a sound akin to a hurricane as Raul breathed into the phone. “Those are fighting words, square and true! I will vomit on your possessions, insolent mushrump!”

“Uh – yeah. I need you to do something for me.”

“A favour, she seeks!” He’s still exclaiming. It’s giving her a complex.

Caroline quickly explained the situation. “…and now I’m pretty sure you’re my one way in.”

“You want me to help you capture my friends?”

“Just draw them out. And are you sure they were your friends?” Her lips twitched. “They gave you up so easy.”

Raul scoffed, but that was all.

Caroline put her offer on the proverbial table. “I’ll let you come back to New York every third weekend.”

“What makes you think I’d ever return?” Raul sniffed. “That vile city was a coxcomb that never wanted me. Never was there a city that made me wish more for the eternal wiles of death.”

Honestly, she thought the same about this phone call. With an eyeroll she said, “I’ll give you back your boots.”

There was a long, ugly pause. It was so long and so ugly that Caroline thought he had put down the phone.

At long last he announced, with vigour, “Seduction certainly becomes you, Lady Distraction.”

“Actually, my name is—”

“Alas, I have a party to plan!”

“Wait, party?”

“Good bye!” Raul exclaimed. The line did not go dead immediately: there was the sound of a fumble and then the background chatter of Raul watching a tutorial on how to cook moussaka, before an incredulous Caroline ended the call for him.

 —

 As luck would have it, Caroline met Klaus at the party. Or rather: Klaus’s hand was conveniently in the way when she was reaching for a cheese stick.

When she looked up, he was looking at her with astonishment.

“Can it, Mikaelson,” she said immediately.

Klaus frowned. “But I haven’t said anything.”

“You’re going tell me how ravishing I look. I’m going to ignore the comment and focus, instead, on why you’re suddenly and miraculously standing by the cheese platter of the first party I’ve been to in three years. Sure, it’s actually a stage for my vamp round-up later, but—I mean, come on. You’ve got to cool it on the stalking.”

“For one, I was going to tell you how arresting you looked,” Klaus corrected. He actually sounded offended. “And despite the evidence of the contrary, I’m not stalking you. I was invited.”

He pulled out an invitation from his pocket, raising his eyebrows in challenge.

Caroline put her cheese stick back on the platter. “You know Raul the Eurovision Vampire. Seriously.”

“You mean Rah-OOL?” Elijah asked.

Caroline could have kicked herself for even being surprised at how suddenly he appeared. They probably spent the better half of a century perfecting the art of making an entrance.

“He’s changed over the years, his vowels not so pronounced.” Elijah had a slight kink between his eyebrows, as if it wasn’t even worth frowning over, but he was anyway. “If you listen closely, you can tell he used to have an Indo-European accent; it’s quite distinct. I detected clear derivations from the original Proto-Indo-European, but it’s unmistakable. A fool he has been making of the people in this room, but not us.”

Klaus nodded quite seriously, sipping his gin.

“It is difficult to find likeminded company these days; people these days hardly have time to consider the nuances of language shifts and devolving case systems,” Elijah was saying with a solemn shake of his head.

“That is so interesting.” Caroline strained to smile and ended up baring her teeth instead. She turned back to Klaus. “How do you know Raul?”

(“Rah-OOL,” Elijah interjected.)

At that moment, Raoul got up on a makeshift stage in the center of the room and started belting out a welcome song he’d penned just two hours before the party (as he’d reminded each one of them as they walked in earlier).

He was back in his cape, boots, and white face paint. Everyone was understandably distracted.

“He’s a mate of Kol’s.” Klaus said absently, and then returned his gaze to her. “Kol turned him some time around the 14th century. He used to sing for Marie Antoinette,” Klaus added, like it was supposed to impress her.

Raoul placed a hand to his chest and screeched.

“Man, what a bummer I wasn’t alive then,” Caroline said dryly.

 —

 Klaus insisted on walking her home after she had ‘created a scene’ by making three grown-ass vampires cry in the middle of Raoul’s fourteen-minute percussion solo.

Caroline’s only response was to rustle their freshly-signed contracts against his jaw.

When they swung open the front door, Bonnie and Damon tumbled, both quite shirtless, from the couch to the floor.

Caroline backed away until her head hit the door. “I didn’t know scrabble was euphemism for sex!”

Damon chose that moment to stand, all the better to deliver his comeback, but Caroline gave a shriek that rivalled Raoul’s, and Klaus quickly ushered her out.

 —

 The sun set in a brilliant burn of orange and red. Caroline and Klaus were sitting on a bench, his coat around her shoulders.

“Why doesn’t Damon have a room?” Klaus asked, once he’d placated her with ice-cream. Copious amounts of it.

Caroline shuddered at the memory of seeing his erect nipples. And then the shudder turned to rage, and she stabbed her spoon into her double chocolate. “Because he doesn’t live with us.”

“But he’s there all the time.”

“So are you,” she pointed out.

Klaus has the grace to look abashed. “Only because my situation at home isn’t… the most ideal.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “But I am leaving tomorrow. It’s time, I think.”

Caroline looked up. She hadn’t expected to hear that, not so soon. He’d been here for maybe a month, skulking around, loudly expressing admiration. He noticed her lack of enthusiasm for Damon’s pancakes whenever she got back from a fight and nudged mugs of blood from questionable origins, but it was always hot and pulled flavours deep and rich from her tongue. Sometimes he’d intentionally give her the wrong addresses to vampire cult gatherings just so he could be there ten minutes earlier to “observe her progress”. Once, after a werewolf had scraped her arm with his teeth, Klaus had readily shown her his wrist.

The look he’d given her that night had sent her to bed with uncertain, dark, thoughts—and a want, too, that made it difficult to sleep.

She stood up, took Klaus’s untouched ice-cream and dumped it in the trash along with hers.

He didn’t object then, nor did he object when she retook her seat next to him, turned her face upwards and closed the space between them with a kiss. Klaus made a sound of surprise, and deepened the kiss.

He didn’t object when she tugged him off the bench onto their feet, nor did he object when she all but dragged him out of the park with great difficulty, because he still insisted on kissing her while she do it. They could have hailed a cab, but it turned out making out in alleyways could be great fun, especially when Klaus put his mouth to her neck and palmed her breasts through her thin cotton shirt.

“Do you mind if we make a detour?” Klaus asked hoarsely when she’d slammed him to the crumbling alley wall and had looked deviously close to getting down on her knees.

“Detour?” she worried at his belt with playful fingers. “Where do you have in mind?”

“My place in the Upper East Side,” he said with a half-grin, because his eyes are closed to the ministrations of her hand through the front of his jeans, which soon stopped when she spluttered.

“You have a place—” she cursed and flashed to her feet, shoving his shoulders. “You sly asshole.”

“Honestly, love – if you can see yourself how you look in the comfort of your own home—” Klaus tried to beseech her, but she snorted and stalked off.

Klaus appeared in front of her and stopped her in her tracks. “You were slipping on your mask one night and I saw how fearless it made you look – how sharp and cunning and ready to strike fear into hearts. You exuded this understated sensuality. I was in love with it.”

Caroline looked at him curiously. “Was?”

“Am,” Klaus amended.

“Good. I’ll have sex with you with that in mind.” She cleared her throat and stared ahead. “Take me there.”

Klaus smiled. He smiled all through hailing a cab, and the smile only just faltered when she was standing in the foyer of his townhouse, looking around with her mouth agape.

“Wait until you see my bedroom,” Klaus tried for a joke, but it died when Caroline started undressing.

Sleeping with Caroline was not like the green call of the forest all those years ago. It was like slipping into sleep, a tumble of instinct and touch, a lull that kept on lulling. He pushed into her with a groan. Her neck was wet with her blood; it had spilled from his mouth when she’d wrapped her thighs around him and squeezed. She cursed and damned him when he thrusted deeper, and then she kissed him with the same mouth.

Ten years shackled behind a wall had left him starving for touch, and she met his need with an urgency – but also with a practiced care, a tenderness she didn’t realise she had kept in her breast all this while. Caroline could be soft when she wanted, and she wanted to be soft now, with him. When she came, she came with his name on her tongue in a long, keening sigh.

Before he left, Klaus woke her up. They shared a kiss in the shower—nothing more.

He was about to duck into his car when he paused, struggled with something internally, and then turned back to her. The kiss he left on her knuckles lingered, and he gave her a long look weighed down by layers of things she didn’t know how to interpret just yet. She just looked back. Whatever he found in her eyes, he seemed content.

And then he said good bye, and was gone.

Caroline didn’t know it yet, but it would be four years until she would see him again.

 —

 tbc