#like he's all fluffed up how do i not just sniff his feathers

[simmeons]

clean boy for this morning

[weministertomonsters]

Lizardman (Kaelus) x human female reader

People told you all sorts of things when you volunteered to be the living sacrifice for Kaelus, the lizard-god who lived in the hills and blessed the villages below. He'd eat you alive and screaming or forcibly mate with you and cause you to have deformed lizard children. They speak of him with fear and hatred. So much for being their god!

Everyone makes a choice, you told the village elders. This is mine. You don't add that if not you, it would be one of your friends going instead. And all of them are so fearful, they'd probably faint at the very sight of Kaelus. No, you have to be the one to go and you will be the one to kill him, to rid the villages of this god who demands routine offerings while things really never seem to get better.

The whole ceremony takes hours. By the time the sun is setting, you've only just reached the barricaded door in the hillside that leads to the den of the god.

"Go in peace," the elders say as you walk in.

It goes without saying that no one expects you to come back alive. Well, you hid a knife in the folds of your dress and you know what you are going to do with it. There is no room for failure.

When you tiptoe down the cavernous hall, you find a small bowl-like hollow carved into the stone floor, fashioned into a nest of leaves, bird feathers and strips of dried-out soft vines. Kaelus is hunkered within, puffed up in fear, scales fluffed around his body which is nearly twice as yours, with a long sweeping tail thick enough to crush a human skull.

However, there is not a trace of violence in his form as his slitted pupils gaze at you. He looks more like an angry gecko than an intimidating creature with enough power to level a village as the legends said.

Do you even need that knife?

"What's this? Why have I been brought a human?" His voice rattles low in his throat and you realize you most likely disturbed his sleep.

"The villages wanted to request extra blessings this year, your Majesty. The crops have not been doing well."

"But why bring me a person? What use do I have for you?" He grumbles.

"I was told you would eat me. Is that true?"

"No. I do not eat human meat. Hard to digest."

"I was also told that you would mate with me and force me to have your children," you say.

His scales ripple and a rattling sound comes from deep within his chest. "See, this is why I don't like humans."

"So everything I was told was a lie?" You ask cautiously. "You don't want to hold me prisoner?"

"No. The door to my den is that way, if you can get it open. In fact, I would appreciate it if you simply leave. There is no need for your weapon to be drawn."

"How do you know I have one?" You frown and glance down.

The knife is still hidden away from sight in the folds of your skirt.

"Look, I don't blame you for feeling the need to protect yourself... Can you leave now?"

You fold your arms. "You're not really a god, are you?"

"Again, a very not-true stoty. I don't know who decided that I was one. All I wanted to do was live in peace. But no, first humans decide my kind are evil and kill most of us off. Then dozens of years later they decide the ones who remain are gods. I cannot bless crops or give a barren woman children or whatever else is wished of me."

"And you never told the elder that?"

"No one would listen even if I did. Besides, I preder to be treated like a god than for flaming sticks to be thrown into my den to flush me out to where swords and spears wait to pierce my hide."

You run your gaze over his curled up body, noting the places where scales have been split by scars, all old. "You've already been in some battles."

"W-why are you still here? What nefarious schemes do you have now?" He replies.

"I have an offer to make. If you let me stay here for awhile, I will not tell all the villages that you are a fraud."

"So you choose to blackmail me." He sniffs contemptuously.

"Even if I go home without saying a word, people will still be suspicious. Sacrifices aren't supposed to come back," you explain. "Besides, now that I know the truth, I have to help my friends and family. The next offering is in a month's time. They will bring food and valuable trinkets-which I assume from the looks of your den- you won't use. I'm going to sell them and buy good quality seeds and clothing for the winter."

"Throw away your weapon and we have a deal."

You obey, tossing it away into a dark forgettable corner.

"Just to be clear, I'm not afraid of you. And it's clear my presence makes you uneasy," you say, before beginning to poke around the den while he watches you.

There isn't much to find. So you approach his nest and try to pull out a sizeable twig. He flails in a panic and his tail knocks you over into his nest. You fall over the edge and right on top of him. He freezes like he's trying to play dead. The only indication that he is still alive is his heart thumping in the great expanse of his chest. He's so much bigger when you're up close like this.

"Get off," he says hoarsely. "Before I go mad and do something I will regret."

"Easy," you say comfortingly, patting his chest once before you pull away. "I'm sorry, I should have asked you first. I want to build a fire and the only source of wood is your nest. It's going to get really cold in here the further the night goes. I have nothing but my clothes to protect myself from the cold."

"You should have said so," he mumbles, rising from the nest and shaking himself off. "I know where to find wood. Wait here."

He lumbers on two clawed feet further into the den. It looks so odd to see him walk on two feet. Like this, he resembles a man a lot more, with broad shoulders and a taut belly. You swallow and look away for a moment.

"You're not as bad as I imagined you'd be," you say slowly.

Kaelus makes a rasping laughing sound that bounces off the cave walls. "So are you. You are not as intimidating or cruel as the humans with the spears. When you fell on me, you were soft. I did not know humans were so soft."

He comes back with an armful of wood and you show him how to make a fire and make sure the wood is dry enough so it doesn't smoke too much. Enraptured, he crouches before the fire.

"Such warmth! I did not know it was possible," he sighs.

The reflection of the flames dance in his eyes. Despite his slitted pupils, they are filled with joy and wonder. It's so hard to be scared of him when he looks so utterly harmless. And that's why even though you don't mean to, you eventually fall asleep by the fire.

[dnarez]

Chapter 7 - Autumn Coat

It's been a few months since you started to work as a caretaker, nothing grand happened, but the times you left for your break once every 14 days, you always come back to a crying Keigo, and a missing mother.

The last time he wrecked the house, there was glass on the floor, footprints on the ceiling, walls painted with... wine? jelly? blood? You don't know, but it was hell to clean, which of course you made lil birb help too.

By questioning him after cleaning everything and then cleaning him, you discovered that his "mother" gave him coffee, and A LOT of it, and went her merry way to meet with someone.

---

To say that you were pissed was a mistake, you were furious, but the commission didn't let you reprehend her, so you had to teach him to not eat and drink something that his mother gave to him, without knowing what it was, and that if he drank coffee he would stop growing, which made him cry, but you promised a day outside with him, where they would eat out, maybe go to a mall, and he could have anything that he wanted.

It was his first time going out to have fun, instead of just going to the gym, or the doctor appointment, so with the 'okay card' from your boss you took him for a stroll, which is why there is a very excited Keigo jumping on your bed at 6am.

"COME. OOOOON!!! WE STILL HAVE A BEAUTIFUL DAY AHEAD OF US!" he shouted while jumping up and down on your bed, his wings flapping behind him.

"Hun, what time it is?" you yawned and sat on the bed.

"It's 6AM! On a Monday!!!"

"I wish you would be this easy to wake up every day, it would make my mornings easier" you huff and got up. "Go wash your face, I will get changed and come to help you change yourself."

"I don't need help! I'm a big boy! I can change myself!" he pouted and crossed his arms.

You smiled at him, seeing how much he opened up to you in comparison to the first day, when he would tremble form how scared he was, and how he talked so little. "I know you can, but you need to put warmer clothes than normal, and it would be better if you didn't pick that awful t-shirt again"

"The one that his written 'Daddy's little boy' with the Endevour's face?" he tilted his head a little.

"Exactly, that one! Now go, we will eat breakfast outside today."

"Woo-hoo!" he raised both hands and was about to jump down to the floor when you held him back and fills his face with kisses "Let me go mommy!" he giggles a lot, and you keep doing it until you decide to release him.

"THE FLOOR IS LAVA!!" You shout and jumps up "If you aren't on your bedroom in 15 seconds the world is going to END!" You say dramatically and open's the door to the laundry room "1... 2... 3... aaaaaand... he's gone" as soon as you opened the door and started the countdown he flew off your small home to his room.

After fixing your bed and washing your face, you went to get changed and choose something comfy, some black jeans, a long sleeved red shirt, a black purse and your favorite beige coat that had white fur on it.

You went to his room to get him ready when you were surprised by the scene, him, Keigo, your baby birb, the cute little shit that was getting more confident with each training, that had the most beautiful smile you had ever seen.

On the floor, curled up in a ball, with a few drops of blood on the ground of the floor, and his mother with her hand in the air, like she was about to hit him...

The world was turning slowly, almost stopping, after three movements of your finger, the one that the nail was always painted black, the dame that had cut the wall.

As the world was moving slowly, you were moving like normal.

5... you calmly walked to Keigo

4... you took him on your arms

3... you put him on the bed

2... you took the pillow case from the pillow

1... you tied both of the hands of Keigo's mother.

The world was back to normal, and Keigo blinked looking at what was now his mother on the ground and you on top of her mobilizing her, while he was no longer on the floor, but on his new fluffy bed that you picked for him "so quick..." he mumbles and look at you with admiration.

You took your phone from your purse, and sat on top of her back "Hello? You saw from the cameras, didn't you? Yeah... I think she needs a few days of vacation... about a week? Okay I let her on the couch then? Thank you, good bye" you turn off the cellphone and look at Keigo who was mouth agape looking at you with shiny eyes. "Let's go?" You smile and pick him up.

"YOU WERE SO AWESOME!!! And didn't you told me to change my clothes?" He hugged your neck

"We can just buy it on the mall but... outside is really cold..." you put him back on the bed and took off your coat "here, I'll lend you my favorite coat, please take good care of it"

He sniffs the coat and is meet by the soft smell of lavender and sweetened coffee.

He looks at you with shiny eyes, "okay!"

You pick him up again and hold his mother's ankle while you drag her to the living room. "Tomorrow is your trainer's day off, so today you can sleep later"

"Woo-hoo!!"

You chuckle and let the woman on the couch, then you go out with him.

"Let's have breakfast and then go out and about"

You carried him to the car, and there you put him on the backseat and when you were going to buckle him up he stopped you.

"Let me do it! I'm a big boy" you nod and watch as he struggles, but after some time does it.

"Good job" you kiss his forehead and goes to the front seat.

As you drive around you put some kids pop, which he sang along to the Disney songs from the movies you showed him.

As you stop at a café that you liked, "Let's go?" He unbuckles himself, and you open the door to him, picking him up again

"I can walk!"

"Not with that bare feet of yours" you tickle his feet which makes him squirm and giggle.

Walking in you take a sit and sat Keigo beside you. "You can get anything, ask away" you took the menu and give it to him "since you learn how to read better I'm sure you can pick what you want"

"Okay!..." he spends 20 minutes  choosing his food, which ended up being a chicken breast sandwich and a soda, you immediately told him no soda in the morning.

"How about some juice?" You offer

"What are you going to drink?" Keigo tilts his head to the side.

"I want to go out and by sweetened coffee from the vending machine, it's my favorite, and no you can't have some"

He giggles and nods "I want strawberry juice!"

"I'm gonna go order it to the cashier, two chicken sandwiches and a strawberry juice"

"Can I pick a dessert?"

"After you eat everything, sure, here play a game on my phone while you wait, I'll be right back" you give him your phone unlocked and go to the cashier.

Keigo is playing on your cellphone when someone approaches him, his little trained feathers don't recognize this person's vibrations, so he looks up and sees a dude with a scary look and long black hair.

They both just stare at each other "sup" Keigo say and discreetly send a feather to you and taps your feet.

You come back to the table and is surprised to see your oldest friend, you give him a big smile "Shouta-niisan!" You hug him, but he only pats your head.

Keigo looks surprised at the interaction, you don't talk about yourself, only the basic and vaguely gives information about what you did before him.

"Is this your kid?" The man looked at Keigo, the man looked like it was around 23 maybe 25.

"Yeah! I'm his-... mom, yeah! I'm his mother" you smile breaking the hug and sat down "too busy to stay?"

He nods and put a can of your favorite sweetened coffee in front of you "You're doing a good job, just be careful, you never know"

You nod back at him and give him a big smile "I will, at least I'm no longer doing patrols, don't forget to call me once a week"

"I never broke a promise, won't start now" he pets your hair and goes away.

Keigo watched the weird transactions extremely curious "Who was him? Is him your older brother? You don't look alike. Why didn't you say goodbye to him? Why does he look like a bun? Why-"

"Enough!" You put your hand on his mouth "He's an old friend, I call him nii-san because I always called him that, no we aren't blood related, he always looked like that, and... we promise to never say goodbye to each other"

"Why?"

"Because a goodbye can be forever, so we just don't say it" a waitress comes to you both and puts everything on the table.

You open the canned coffee and drink it, smiling at him as he eats, you both eat and then went shopping.

...

Keigo could fit in anything, and he would look cute you just loved the way he looked on yellow or beige, they fit well with his red wings.

"Hey mom... I wanted to know if-..." he was scared, uncomfortable maybe? About something.

"You can ask me anything Birb, there is no way that I will not answer" you kneeled on the floor besides him and looked at him through the mirror.

"What's your quirk?" He looked at you while fiddling with his hands.

You smiled at him "It's kinda hard to explain, It's better if I show it to you" you took his hand and paid for the clothing, now that he was with some clothes that were good for the Autumn cold weather.

After getting to the car you drove off to the training gym.

"Why are we here?" Keigo recognized the building quickly.

"My power can be a little destructive, its1better to do this in a place that no one can get hurt" going in you went to your private training room with the little boy following you like a baby duck.

"How destructive?" Keigo held your hand and you held his.

"Very, now stay back" you pressed a bottom on the wall "My quirk needs ink all the time to do anything, and I always have it around me, most likely on my point finger, here I can do almost anything" you made a straight line in the direction of the dummies and cut 3 at the same time, cutting through them.

"Woaaah! What else?" Keigo's wings fluffed up at your awesomeness.

You walk to the middle and make a dot next to him, a huge tree appears from nothing surprising him, he falls to the floor shocked.

"I can also make a path of flowers, and the tree will only stay there for a few seconds, but it can surprise the enemy enough to take them down" you move your finger around under Keigo's feet and there grows some flowers.

"My ability is called Celestial Brush"

"THIS IS SO COOL!" He runs to you, and you pick him up when he's close enough. "MOM YOU ARE AWESOME!"

You look at him surprised and hug him tightly "My son, you are awesome too"

You two stay like that for some time, until he bugs you to show more of your ability,  which you do, you show him each trick and technique you learned until now.

https://youtu.be/BRcfqu3hQkY (your quirk)

(Yes this is your quirk, and everything you can do with it)

After showing him everything  you picked him up and you both go back home to take a shower, eat and sleep.

Those moments in his life were the happiest that Keigo had ever been, always protected by you, he was given the love and affection that he always wanted, he didn't care for everything else, he just cared about you, because you were his true mother, the woman that he would run to when he got himself hurt, to ask about life, to ask about anything really, since you also were his teacher. When he had nightmares you would hold him until he calmed down, would kiss his head, would compliment the small things he had done, and would scout him when he did something wrong.

Keigo loved you more than anything in his life, and Hawks miss you dearly in his, because in the end, you still worked for the commission, and he too didn't have a choice when you went away for an important mission.

The day before your departure you both made a pillow nest in the living room, you induced him on his bird instincts, HD wouldn't have such luxury after you went away.

Neither of you talked about you leaving, instead you showed him your favorite movies, snacks and old latin folktales, the feeling of sadness was there the whole moment.

You tried to give as much advice you could, and only took him off your arms to use the bathroom.

Keigo also didn't wanted to let go of you, both sleep hugging each other, you promised that you would come back as soon as you could, that tou would  ever forgive him if he died while being a hero, that you knew he was build for greatness.

Only when you had to leave that you allowed yourself to cry, at the door with only a backpack in hands, you put your coat on Keigo while he sleep, also letting your diary on his bed, to let him have you all the time.

After tucking him on his nest, you kissed his forehead and kisses his toy's head, going out of that house took a lot of strength, you didn't wanted to go, but duty called, you just hopped it would take less then a year.

. . . . .

But it didn't took a year, it took 18 years to take the ring leader down, and just now you were finally going back to Japan, and to the now number 2 pro hero Hawks.

.............. As you can see there is more to this book

[s-creations]

Return the Flames - Chapter 10

All at Dead Bird Studios knew of Amos' (The  Conductor's) ability. How the owl could suddenly erupt into flames if  angered enough. When the studio first opened, Dominic (DJ Grooves) was  told that Amos had his ability under control. Nothing to worry about. No  possible loss of anything from an open flame.

A few years later however, and that control seems to have lessened to a dangerous degree.

It should have just been a simple, week long drive to fix the problem. It really should have been.

Dominic should have asked a lot more questions and should have been prepared for a twist ending.

_________________

Fandom: A Hat in Time       Rating: General Audience       Relationships/Pairings: The ConductorXDJ Grooves     Warnings: Eventual depictions of violence, slow burn relationship, named characters, attempt of an accent, being hunted down, a race against time (sort of).

It was so painfully cold. The flame that had scared him for so long, he now begged for it to return. Something, anything to starve off this chill that he seemed to be drowning in. The voices were gone as well. The quiet was somehow worse than their constant chanting and teasing. There was nothing here but the cold and the quiet. And he hated it.

 No one was there to see him struggle. To see him try and claw his way back up. He was alone and it hurt.

 He just wanted this to end.

 Someone just end this please!

 “You’ll be okay. I promise you’ll be okay.”

 But he hurt so much.

 “I know. But you’ll be okay.”

 He was so tired. 

 “I know. But you’ll be okay.”

 How could you say that so easily?

 “Because you’re stubborn and I know you won’t let something like this take you down. Please remain. I need you.”

 When Amos woke again, he was far more aware of his surroundings than the first time. Meaning no wild and frantic outburst while threatening others with a chair. It may have also helped his peace of mind to find Dominic passed out in the chair next to him instead of missing from the action. Said penguin’s upper body was laying out on the bed. Amos looked down, surprised to find his hand trapped in Dominic’s grasp.

 Sitting up as best he could and keeping his hand connected to the penguin’s, Amos took in the decor of the hut. Or at least what was actually there. As it was rather basic in it’s set up. Shelves on the wall near the bed held small pots and clean rags. The pots held so potent herbs if Amos’ nose was anything to go by. A small table was placed near the bed with a wooden cup holding water resting on top. The bed Amos was resting on was the only one in the small hut, Dominic resting on one of the two offered chairs. The hut itself was small but not cramped, with the door being nothing more than an archway that was covered by a deep red cloth that was gently moving in the chilled wind. 

 It was all oddly relaxing. Normally, Amos was uncomfortable with the quiet and the calm. Wanting to just move and work on something. At this moment however, he just wanted to stay like this for a little while longer. Laying on a rather comfortable bed with no one hunting him down and Dominic sitting so close.

 “Amos…?” Said penguin grumbled weakly, slowly starting to wake. One hand still gripping onto Amos’ while the other wiped at his eyes.

 “Hi…”

 Dominic laughed softly. “Hello. How are you feeling?”

 “Better...more aware than I was before. Where are we?”

 “A small village near the base of the mountain.”

 “H-How far?”

 “About a day's walk, maybe two.”

 “Good...Good, then we can leave and get this done with.” Amos winced as he attempted to stand. Only to be held back down by Dominic.

 “Calm yourself. You’re still healing.”

 “But we need ta go.”

 “Amos, we’re safe here. We’re hidden away and they have patrols set up to make sure no agents get too close. Please give yourself a day to relax before we start moving again.”

 Amos frowned, reaching out to grip Dominic’s hand again. The penguin happily returned the gesture, both hands wrapping around Amos’ single. A thumb rubbed the back of the owl’s hand. It was such a soothing gesture that Amos had no reason to argue. 

 “...We’ll leave tomorrow?”

 Dominic smiled. “Tomorrow, I promise Sweetheart.”

 “Alright.”

 “Is the Child awake?” The birds turned towards the entrance as the Elder and two healers walked in. Dominic pulled away to allow Amos to be examined. The owl was upset at the loss of that comfort. But instead of focusing on that, he turned towards the Elder.

 “Child? I ain’t that much younger than yer grizzled self.”

 “Amos.” Dominic berated from the sidelines.

 The Elder merely chuckled. “So, you are also close to 600 years?”

 “...No.” The owl grumbled. 

 “Don’t fret. I only call you Child, not because of your age, but because of your heritage.”

 “Heritage… Ya mean the Phoenix side o’ me.”

 “Correct! You are the Child of the Pure Flame. A being who’s a direct descendant of the Celestial Phoenix.”

 “Yeah, great fun. Nothin’ like bein’ related to a deadbeat father.”

 “Fair point.” The Elder fell quiet when one of the healers spoke up. Nodding a few times before addressing the visiting birds again. “It seems as if the Child is going well.”

 “The ‘Child’ has a name.”

 “Ah, very well. While you’re doing well Amos, I would advise you take it slow today. It’s unclear if you have fully ‘flushed’ everything out of your system yet. It would be a great misstep if you started your journey again only to relapse.”

 “...Fine.”

 “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him.” Dominic smirked at the glare Amos sent his way.

 “Wonderful!” the Elder laughed, “I will find something for you to wear.”

 Amos’ feathers fluffed at that. “We have luggage…”

 “I’m well aware. Where do you think I’m getting your outfit from?”

 Dominic held in a laugh at the Elder’s mocking tone, said monk and the healers leaving the visiting birds alone. Amos laid back down, arms crossed and clearly pouting.

 “...Sassy goat.”

 Dominic couldn’t cover up his laughter at that.

 ___________________

 It was in the early afternoon when they emerged from the medical hut. The owl swearing up and down he was going to pull his feathers out if he stayed in that bed any longer. Amos put up a disgruntled facade when he realized he would have to lean against Dominic to keep himself upright. Hoping it was enough to pull attention away from his furiously beating heart as the penguin slipped an arm around Amos’ waist. 

 Being able to move, even if it was slow going at first, changed his attitude quickly. Instead of feeling confined, he was able to see where they’d tucked themselves away while hiding from the world. It was quaint and small. Something clearly not touched by anything outside in the modern world. A place Amos was actually happy they were able to stop at before this journey ended. 

 Although it was confusing as to why all in the village seemed to be running around.

 “What are all these nomads doin’?” Amos questioned as another group returned with baskets filled with fruit.

 “Setting up a feast for us.” Dominic replied simply.

 “Us?”

 “Well, more of a way to help us relax. But yes, us.”

 “Ah, of course…”

 “Are you uncomfortable with this?”

 The owl squirmed. “...Maybe.”

 Dominic merely laughed. “Rather strange to hear that coming from you.”

 “What are ya yammerin’ about?”

 “That you're not alright with all this attention. You. The bird who flaunts every 1st place trophy you’ve ever gotten.”

 “I earned the right ta flaunt them! Also, very funny comin’ from you. You with yer flashy outfits.”

 “How dare you.” Both attempted to hold their glares. Only to end up laughing the next second. “Good to know we both have our prideful hangups.”

 Amos waved his hand to easily push the conversation away. “Good ta hear yer happy. Now, let’s see if this village has somethin’ ta drink.”

 “You’d better be discussing water.”

 “Only if it’s fermented.”

 “That makes no sense!”

 Amos laughed as he broke away from Dominic’s grasp, limping slightly as he headed over to the  first collection of food. The penguin quickly followed. But the owl was already sniffing the nearest piles of fruit when Dominic joined his side again.

 “And how are you going to ask for a drink? I don’t think nomads even have alcohol.”

 “I wasn’t lyin’ about the fermentation. Here.”

 Dominic fumbled slightly as a lumpy skinned, purple fruit was tossed his way. He gave it a tentative sniff. Which he instantly regretted and he pulled away in disgust. “That’s horrible, it smells like brandy!”

 “Ya know it.” Amos confirmed, taking a large bite out of the one he held. “Oof, that’ll put feathers on yer tail.”

 Dominic frowned as the owl quickly polished off the fruit he had before going for another one. The penguin quickly grabbed the other’s wrist. Smiling sheepishly at the disgruntled look he received. “I’m sure this is your typical way to, uh, self medicate. But I would like you to try and take it easy.”

 Amos huffed. “Fine...one more and then I’ll wait for the festivities to properly begin.”

 Not really what Dominic was asking for. But he supposed that was the best he was going to get. Perhaps he could make another convincing argument later. 

 To keep themselves somewhat entertained, Dominic volunteered them to help set up the feast. With Amos responding to this by grumbling about wanting to just relax. And the nomads gestured to explain that they were guests and should just be enjoying themselves, not working. But the penguin was able to convince both parties to participate in some way. 

 It was a little touch and go as far as where the visiting birds would be able to help out. But they eventually found their comfort zones. Dominic primarily stayed with the cooks. Helping out with the multiple dishes that were being prepared and layout the table that would hold the mountain of food. Chatting with the cooks that could understand him and looking forward to recreating some of these dishes when he got home.

 Amos, however, stuck with the younger generation. Keeping the children of the village entertained by playing games and helping them carry the needed wood for the planned evening bonfire. Dominic saw that personality the owl’s grandchildren clamored for whenever they saw him. Amos even seemed younger than what his true age was. It was endearing to watch him chase the small forms around the large pile of firewood. 

 The owl was darting everywhere in that village, seeming to carry multiple children at a time. Dominic smiled whenever Amos would pass by the cooking area, happy to know the other was feeling better.

 “Amos seems to be doing well.” The Elder commented, the penguin unprepared for the other’s arrival. 

 “He is...He really is,” Dominic replied after his heart calmed down, “I’ve only heard him laugh a few times over our working years. But this trip, despite its hardships, has opened him up just a little bit more.”

 “You’ve done well with helping in that aspect. I hope he understands that.”

 The penguin became flustered, placing the knife down to address the elder better. “I...I think he does.”

 “Bonfires are a rather romantic setting.”

 “I- Why are you so interested in my love life? I don’t even know you!”

 “Hello, I’m the Elder of the Starlight Mountain village.”

 “You know what I mean.”

 “Dominic, I understand that flustered, nervous feeling. All too well actually. I know the situation is not what you would expect it to be. But...I’m worried that your window of opportunity is slowly closing.”

 “I know…” Dominic huffed as he chopped vegetables. A bit more violently than what he probably should have done. “I know. But this isn’t about me. It’s about keeping him happy and healthy...and hope that is enough to keep him here.”

 The Elder nodded slowly. “Believe me when I say, you make him happy.”

 The penguin was not pleased with how hot he’d become from that statement.

 As the sun began to set, the large bundle of collected wood was finally lit. Dominic was pleased with the numerous pieces of food he’d helped create. Even partaking in the fermented fruit before Amos ate it all. The owl clearly flushed, even with how early in the celebration they were. Music soon started being played, numerous nomads taking up places around the roaring fire. Dancing around it either alone or with a partner in hand. Dominic felt his foot tapping to the beat while Amos made some half-hearted comment about it being unnecessary. 

 The sky was completely dark when Dominic lost some inhibitions and allowed the loud music to take over. Joining the already dancing nomads surrounding the large fire, he moved from partner to partner, the music seeming to swell as he moved to it. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to let all just melt away and allowed himself to just move. Move without a care and let the music take control. 

 All of it came to a short pause when he felt a clawed hand grab one of his. Quickly being pulled flushed against Amos, whose face was very red. 

 Dominic was only allowed a moment's pause to look Amos over before he was pulled in to dance. The owl took the lead. A skilled dancer even in his drunken state. It was an absolute thrill. Dominic laughed as he pressed closer, Amos responding in kind, and the rest of the world seemed to just disappear. It was just the two of them, having a moment where they could just focus on themselves. Better than the fair as Amos initiated the contact. Even if he was drunk. But if that smile on his face was any indication, the owl was just as happy as Dominic was right now.

 The penguin was brought back when the cheers of the nomads became louder than the music. Dominic’s attention was pulled towards the fire. Which had become taller than what it was before. A spiral of different colors that reached out towards the sky as it twisted and turned. It was a spectacular light show that seemed to speed the penguin’s heart rate. 

 Amos let out a small chirp before nuzzling under Dominic’s beak. The penguin felt warmer suddenly and he gently nipped behind the owl’s ear. The roaring fire wasn’t the only source of warmth for that evening. 

[e-vasong]

hi!! I just wanted to ask about the daemon AU--do you have a headcanon abt when their daemons would settle? or did they just settle after puberty? Did 5's daemon settle before or after the apocolypse?

AH!! this is such a good question.  I’m gonna put a cut after this first bit, though, because I took a simple question and accidentally...wrote a 2k thing that kinda straddles the line between answering your question and being a freeform fic? whoops.

Okay.  So I think all the kids probably settle a little later than normal for most people.  It’s been a while since I read the books, but I recall that most daemons, though not all, settle towards the start of puberty.  I headcanon that trauma is one of the things that can push that process back, and all the Hargreeves kids have that in abundance.  Not to mention that I don’t think isolating your kids from a normal childhood and forcing them into a vigilante lifestyle is exactly helpful for their development.

Luther settles first, a day after their thirteenth birthday.  It happens without much fanfare, while they’re resting at home after a mission.  There’s not much a golden retriever can do on a mission that another animal can’t do just as well or better, and Reginald really emphasizes the utility of their daemons above all else.  But sometimes Luther likes to let Amalthea turn into big, soft things when their dad isn’t looking.  He likes them, even if Diego mocks him relentlessly for it.  And that afternoon Amalthea plops down on his chest and turns into a golden retriever, licking at his chin to comfort him after the verbal excoriation their father had given them after the mission had gone wrong at every possible turn.  It’s a miracle none of them were hurt.  That scares Luther more than anything else.  How close he’d come to failing and getting someone killed.  And they don’t even realize that she’s settled until like an hour later when they’re headed downstairs and Amalthea tries to shift back into a form that their father will find dignified and just...can’t.

Klaus settles next much to everyone’s surprise.  It happens a few months after Luther.  Their father has them locked in the crypt again, and it’s particularly bad tonight.  Klaus can see them everywhere, tearing at his clothes, clawing at his skin, and he can barely breathe.  They go after Cassandra just as eagerly as they do him, but she’s harder to catch.  Suddenly she’s a falcon, an ermine, a rat scuttling through a new hole in the wall that their father must have missed.  And then she’s outside.  Twelve, thirteen feet away maybe, and it pulls at the connection between them, almost to the point of being painful.  Hurts enough to gear Klaus out of his catatonic haze and get him to push through the throng of ghosts just to get a couple feet closer to her.  And then Cassandra is a cicada, fluttering up to the lock.  And then she’s a raccoon, clawing futilely at it with those deft, clever fingers, but unable to work it open without anything to jimmy the lock open with.  Yet she’s also trapped by their bond, unable to venture and look for something to use.  And so she tries to shift back to rat, to get back inside, and just.  Doesn’t.  Can’t.  So Klaus stills his breathing long enough to stumble over to the door of the crypt, pressing his back flat against it and trying to still his breathing.  Cassandra curls up in a small ball in front of the door.  And they stay like that all night, until their father comes to let them out in the morning.

Allison, Diego, and Vanya all settle pretty close together, towards the end of their thirteenth year and the start of their fourteenth.

Allison settles on a mission.  She’s so busy rumoring a bad guy into killing his friends that she doesn’t notice the one behind her until Diego drops to the ground with a muffled cry of pain.  She makes a noise, a hoarse-sounding scream of shock and surprise.  But she’s well-trained enough to wrestle her gut reaction under control quickly.  She whips around, a rumor already on her lips, but before she can say anything Alexander is there.  A flash of muted gold and black, not hulking but still larger than she expects.  He jumps, first onto a table.  The spring inside a loaded gun.  Fifty pounds of coiled muscle and snarling rage.  Then he leaps again, surprisingly agile.  There’s a flash of canine, long and sharp.  The man dies with a gurgle, and when Alexander pads over to Diego’s injured body, licking at their brother’s face with concern, Allison sees that those white teeth are bloody and red.

Diego settles during one of their sneak-outs.  They’re walking along the pier, eating fish tacos they bought from a vendor nearby.  Ben is reading as they walk, flipping pages idly.  He’s not paying attention to where they’re going, though Luther keeps trying to get him to put the book down.  But then Diego had told Luther to lay the fuck off, and that had turned into a whole thing, and Ben’s still reading his book.  If Five were here, there wouldn’t be any concern about it.  He’d had that sort of quiet, watchful way about him, where you knew that even if he wasn’t actively stopping you from doing something, he was still keeping an eye out to make sure it didn’t kill you.  If Five were here, he’d have made them take Vanya.  If Five were here...

But he isn’t.  He’s probably off somewhere, living happily away from their father and from them.  Asshole.  It’s an uncharitable thought, and Guinevere would bite him for it if he said it out loud, but Diego is so caught up in his anger that he doesn’t see Ben walk into the pole until its too late.  

Ben swears, hands flying to his face automatically.  Klaus bursts into hysterical laughter.  Allison’s gasps, putting a hand to her mouth.  Ben’s book tumbles out of his hands and into the water, and Guinevere--also laughing--follows it, turning small and furry as she does.  She doesn’t catch it before it gets soaked, but she gets the book in her teeth and paddles over to a small ladder that drops down off the dock.  Ben turns to thank her, but Diego is too distracted to catch what he says.  Diego just settled, he’s pretty sure.  He can feel it in his bones.  He’d kind of been hoping for something that would prove once and for all that he’s better than Luther, but frankly their father isn’t going to be any more pleased with otter than golden retriever.  That’s kind of a bummer.  But when he kneels down to let Guinevere scramble up his arm and around his neck, he can’t really bring himself to care.  She’s Gwen, and he’s Diego, and if their father has anything to say about it?  Well then.  He can go fuck himself.

Vanya settles that winter.  She’s playing her violin in the living room.  Ben is sitting nearby.  They aren’t hanging out, not exactly.  None of her siblings really hang out with her, not since Five, but Ben maybe comes the closest.  Calliope usually takes the form of a cat, winding around Vanya’s ankles as she plays.  She used to turn into a capuchin sometimes, to flip the pages of Vanya’s music, but Io has more or less soured Vanya on monkey daemons these days.  But still.  Things are nice, and today they are in a particularly good mood.  Ben’s company is comforting; it’s nice not to be alone; and Vanya hasn’t missed a single note.  So today, Calliope flutters up onto her shoulder and sings along with her.  And she never changes back.  And when Vanya shyly shows her to their family later, Reginald sniffs, disdainful, having barely spared them a flicker of a glance.  Just a songbird, he says dismissively.  And that is that.

(And later, years and years later, Leonard peers into the veil of Vanya’s hair.

“Is that your daemon?” he asks affably.  He looks unbothered by the way Vanya cringes.  His orb weaver is crawling up the sleeve of his shirt, looking almost like a toy or a strange decorative pin.

“Yeah,” Vanya says.  Cal is a bundle of fluffed-up feathers nestled in the crook of Vanya’s neck.  She huddles in closer at the sight of Leonard’s attention.

“What is she?” Leonard asks, then holds his hands up apologetically.  “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Just a songbird.”

“Just a songbird?” Leonard echoes.  He leans in closer.  “Hey, she’s a...great tit, right?  I’ve read about those.”

“Oh?” Vanya asks, bracing herself for whatever is going to come next.  Leonard is a nice guy; she’s sure he means well.  It doesn’t mean that what he says next isn’t going to hurt.

“Yeah,” Leonard smiles at her.  “You’re right.  They are songbirds.  But they’re more than that.”

Vanya pauses, lifts a hand to her hair uncertainly.  She hadn’t expected that.  “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m surprised your family didn’t ever say anything to you, I have to admit.  They are songbirds, Vanya.  But they’re hunters too,” Harold says.  There’s wonder in his eyes, and when Vanya looks up to meet his gaze, he just smiles.)

Ben, like Luther, settles without much fuss.  Once a week, since they turned ten, they’ve had a designated time to try out new forms for their daemon.  Their father brings out books on zoology.  Gives them specimen after specimen to try.  Ben isn’t quite sure that this is how it’s supposed to work.  All accepted science suggests that settling is half a physical affair and half a mental one.  It’s not just about finding the right shape, it's about state of mind as well.  Amalthea is a golden retriever, but if she had tried that form when Luther was eight, Ben doubts that she would have settled.  But their father doesn’t much seem to care, nor does he seem to understand.  Then again, Io and their father have a dynamic that Ben doesn’t quite get either.  They seem less like human and daemon and more like warden and prison guard.  But maybe that’s just Ben projecting.

Melpomene takes to their father’s training with more courage than Ben does.  His stomach hurts; he wishes that he could go back to bed. This is worse now.  All the others have settled, and Ben’s been doing this part of their training alone for almost a year.  But Mel is braver than Ben is, and she takes the lead.  So they go down the list, while their father watches with those piercing eyes.  Io is perched on the desk, lips drawing back from his teeth whenever Ben so much as twitches a muscle in the wrong direction.

Mel turns into a large octopus.  A cassowary.  A vulture, a great Philippine Eagle, a Sumatran rhino, a spectacled caiman.

And then she stops.  Tries to shift again.

“I’m stuck,” Mel declares, sounding just as surprised as Ben feels.  Their father’s back straightens, and it’s the nearest thing he’s ever given Ben to pride.  He peers over his spectacles.  Nods.

“This is acceptable,” their father says, like there’s any other option.  It’s not like Ben can do anything about it, but he holds his tongue and stares at the floor again.  A predator.  A scary one, not like Guinevere or Amalthea.  Even Alexander is cuddly.  Crocodilians, though, people hate.  This isn’t how Ben wanted his settling to go.  He hadn’t wanted their father to be right.

Ben’s stomach twists.  He feels something nudge against the inner lining of his gut, like it’s trying to escape, and ignores it.

“Dismissed, Number Six,” their father says, and when Ben turns to go his eyes feel wet.

And Five...Ugh.  I’m debating how much of this I want to share, because I actually have this scene written elsewhere?  But Five settles last.  Five settles last by no small margin, not just chronologically, but by age as well.  Five settles late even among other late bloomers.  He settles when he’s eighteen.  Approximately.  It’s hard to keep track of days in the Apocalypse; Five is good with numbers and has a great memory, but it’s been five years by this point and the days are starting to blur, even for him.  The lateness of his settling comes from a combination of trauma, a lack of socialization, and the fact that he is desperately trying to avoid it.  He and Dolores keep a list of forms that they know are safe, forms that she’s taken again and again and hasn’t settled in yet.  

Because in the Apocalypse, an unsettled daemon is an incredible asset.  She can be a hawk, fluttering up to a roof to scout for places to salvage.  A wolf, sniffing out supplies.  An elephant, moving rubble and bricks so they can turn what remains of the library’s atrium into a makeshift shelter.  And a bear, warm and hardy.  That form’s kept Five from freezing to death for the past several winters.  But the thing about nature is that it always finds a way.  They can only fight it for so long.  And one night Five wakes up, and Dolores is a snake, and she can’t shift out.  She’s cold, too.  The night temperatures are too much for her now.  

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, she says to Five, almost frantic with it.

It’s fine, he tells her as she curls up under his jacket, soaking up the warmth radiating from his chest.  You’re beautiful.  It sounds like a lie.  It kind of feels like one too, even though he means it. 

This should be a wonderful thing.  It would have been, under almost any other circumstances. 

They do make it, of course.  We know that.  Five is clever and he is determined and he has no choice but to survive.  He will accept no other outcome, and he’s right in that.  They suffer, but they live.  They win and they get back to their family.  

In the moment, though, they are just a seventeen-year-old boy and his daemon, entirely alone in a world that doesn’t care whether they live or die, and it mainly feels like a death sentence.

(BUT THEN ALSO THEY ALL REUNITE WHEN FIVE TIME TRAVELS BACK AND BEN COMES BACK TO LIFE SOMEHOW AND LEARNS SELF LOVE AND THEY ALL RECOVER FROM THEIR TRAUMA TOGETHER YEE HAW)

[trashyswitch]

Remus's Dream Pet

Roman shows Logan, Patton and Virgil a pet that Remus has always wanted since he was little. But the chicken (who Remus names Richard) discovers and exploits another well-hidden secret of Remus's...

WARNING: This fanfic has a few cusses, and slightly dirty humor. But usually, this is to be expected when Remus is involved. So, despite that, I hope you guys enjoy this silly fic!

This fic is dedicated to @dabi-the-stupid-lee >v<

Roman was feeling generous and a little mischievous. Eager to show off the information, Roman gathered up Logan, Patton and Virgil to tell them about it.

“You realize I probably know this ‘amazing fact’, right?” Virgil mentioned.

“Whatever, I still wanted you to watch.” Roman muttered.

“What’s this about, exactly?” Logan asked.

“And why are we hiding behind Remus’s door frame?” Patton asked.

“We’re spying on Remus, Patton. So I want you to stay hidden. Got it?” Roman ordered.

“Got it.” Patton replied.

Then, Roman pointed to Logan. “Alright. Guys, name the weirdest animal you’d keep as a pet.” Roman ordered.

“Armadillo.” Logan told him.

Roman pointed to Patton next. “Uuuuh...Elephant!” Patton declared.

Roman pointed to Virgil last. “Ants.” Virgil guessed.

“Monkeys!” Patton added.

“People have monkeys as pets. They’re pretty cute too.” Logan told him.

“I know. Curious George.” Patton mentioned.

Roman put his pointing finger down. “Surprisingly, none of those guesses were Remus’s favorite.” Roman told them.

“What’s Remus’s favorite animal?” Patton asked.

“Octo-” Virgil started.

“Nope.” Janus replied.

“Wait, really?” Virgil reacted.

“Mm hmm! Come here:” Roman said, bringing his voice down to a low whisper as he reached Remus’s room. Roman used his magic to summon a specific animal into his arms.

“Ooooh...A chicken.” Virgil whispered in understanding.

“Makes sense...they’re chaotic, loud, and can fall off farm roofs and turn out fine.” Logan explained briefly.

Roman nodded and gave the chicken a little head pat. The chicken was mostly white, save for the head which was a light beige color. Roman brought out a black and green striped sock and brought it up to the chicken’s nose. After a quick sniff, Roman threw the sock into the room and put the chicken down. The moment the chicken’s little feet hit the ground, the chicken went running into the room and picked up the sock.

Roman smiled as Remus looked up and gasped excitedly at the surprise. “A CHICKEN!” Remus squealed, kneeling down and picking him up. “What are you doing here? Are you lost?” Remus asked. His eyes quickly fell upon the striped sock in its mouth. “Oh! And I see you found my favorite sock!” Remus reacted, before he removed the sock from its mouth. “Good chicken.” Remus said happily, patting its head. “Now, what gender are you?” Remus asked.

Roman’s smile dropped as his eyes widened at the exact same time. Roman quickly covered Patton’s eyes and winced at the look of Remus actually sexing the chicken to determine its gender. Logan’s eyes widened before he adjusted his glasses and awkwardly looked away. Virgil was too busy covering up his laugh after seeing Logan’s reaction.

Logan looked at Virgil, before leaning in and whispering something into his ear. “I mean, he’s not wrong.” Logan said quietly in Virgil’s ear. Virgil nodded his head and smiled slightly.

“Yes! I was hoping you were a male!” Remus reacted. Then, Remus looked at the feathers on the chicken. “Oh...Huh...Well, I guess that’s why the feathers are shaped like that.” Remus muttered.

Logan silently snorted and covered his mouth with his fist. He literally just sexed a chicken for no reason!

“Oh well! It was still fun to check.” Remus mentioned. Roman smiled and rolled his eyes. Of course it was…

“Now...I think I’m gonna call you...Richard! Richard the chicken.” Remus declared.

Roman smiled genuinely at the cute little friendship that had already started to bond. Remus booped the chicken’s beak, and jumped when Richard let out a loud “Buh-GAWK!” sound.

“Wow! Such a strong voice!” Remus reacted. “BU-GAHK!” Remus yelled.

“BUH-GAWK!” Richard yelled back at him.

Remus gasped and placed his hands on top of his nose and mouth. “I’m so proud!” Remus said in a slightly whimpery voice as he hugged the chicken close.

Patton smiled as he watched the whole thing. He was enjoying the sight of Remus acting a bit like a father figure!

Then, Richard fluffed its feathers in the green man’s grasp and rested its head on Remus’s shoulder. “Awwwww! You’re so fluffy and adorable, and I just wanna hug you forever!” Remus reacted. “It’s like hugging a tiny furry!” Remus declared to the chicken.

Soon, Richard lifted its head back up and started pecking at Remus’s neck and ears. “EEK! Rihihichard!” Remus reacted. But the chicken didn’t listen. It just continued to peck at his neck. “Ohokahahay...WAITRICHARDNO-!” Remus leaned his back against the wall and widened his eyes in surprise.

Virgil smirked and leaned into Roman’s ear. “Was this your plan all along?” Virgil whispered.

Roman turned his head to Virgil’s ear. “I wish, but no.” Roman whispered.

“EEEEEEHEHEHEHEHE! NOHOHO EHEHEHEARS!” Remus protested. In an attempt to stop it, Remus lifted up the chicken and looked at it with a big smile. “Just what do you think you’re doing?” Remus asked.

Richard proudly replied with a quick “BAWK” sound and opened its wings in dominance. “Ooooh! Asserting your dominance, huh? Nice try Bitchy Richy. But The only dominant top in THIS room, is- ACK! Get your feathers away from meEEEeeEeEHEHEHEHEHE!” Remus teased before bursting into squeals and laughter.

Richard was taking advantage of his open wings, and was tickling Remus’s ears with his wing feathers. How Richard learned this strange ability, no one could tell him. Not even Roman understood how Richard had learned about tickling people, let alone Remus! All Roman knew, was that he was VERY lucky that Richard didn’t tickle him while Richard was in his arms. Richard soon wrapped its wings around Remus’s neck and started pecking the left ear while tickling his right ear with its feathers. Remus guffawed and finally, Remus’s knees buckled below him and slid him down the wall. This ended up being great for Richard, because now Remus was giving it a high stool to stand on! In reality, this stool was Remus’s bended knees. But the chicken didn’t understand that. All it understood, was that it could tickle Remus’s ears for as long as it wanted.

“BAHAHAHAHA! COHOHOHOME OHOHOHOHON! THIHIHIS IHIHISN’T FAHAHAHAHAIR!” Remus whined.

But the chicken couldn’t understand Remus through all the laughing. And even if it could, there was no way that chicken was stopping the man’s laughter anytime soon. It was just too entertaining! But at the same time, Richard was hunting for a specific smell...the smell he could pick up from the sock that it got to play with earlier. Even though Richard enjoyed the smell that came from Remus's neck, Richard needed to find the sock smell that wiggled around in its nose. It was still somewhere on the human, and Richard was determined to find it.

So, Richard hopped off of Remus’s knees and started walking around him as it sniffed the air. Remus happily took the chance to get his breath back in. “Fihihinally…” Remus said, still giggly from the ghostly tickles that still danced on his ears. Remus laid himself onto the ground and rested his head under his arm while he watched the strange, but funny chicken waddle around. The chicken was walking around, as if it was finding something specific. Then, Remus watched curiously as Richard picked up its walking pace towards his feet. Richard halted in front of the pair of feet, and immediately tilted its head.

Jackpot!

“What’s up, Richard? You like my socks?” Remus asked, wiggling his toes. “They have alligators on them! You like them?” Remus asked, before poking Richard’s chest with his big toe. Richard looked at the socks and started pecking at them out of curiosity. “Hehehehey! Ihihihis thahat ahaha yehehes? Ohohor a nohoho?” Remus asked. Then, Richard started going for the wiggling toes. “AAHA! Knohohock ihihit ohohohoff!” Remus giggled, kicking him away. “Hey Richy! If you were a human being, would you have a foot fetish?” Remus asked. Richard ignored Remus’s question and only resumed pecking and grabbing at the toes with its beak. “Ahahaha! Ihhihi’ll tahahake thahat as a yehehehes.” Remus decided.

Finally, after what felt like one too many minutes, Richard managed to grab onto the sock and pull it off his foot. Remus looked over to the chicken and chuckled. “Wow! You really DO have a foot fetish!” Remus declared. With Remus’s foot fully exposed, Richard tilted its head curiously at the wiggling toes. “I mean if you do, I won’t judge you...my feet are pretty nice to look at.” Remus gloated with a smirk.

Patton, who was watching this whole time, leaned over to Virgil’s ear. “He’s just asking to be tickled.” Patton whispered.

“I’ll say…” Virgil whispered back.

Remus watched Richard explore his feet in a relatively calm manner. But that calm demeanour quickly turned into jumps and giggles as Richard started pecking and grabbing onto the tops of his toes. “HEHEY! Richard, don’t bite those. I need them.” Remus warned. Unbeknownst to Remus, Richard had found the amazing, unforgettable smell that it had sniffed up earlier. And now, it wanted to take it home with him and rub against the foot to put the smell onto its feathers. But perhaps...it could just do it here…

Richard eagerly started to rub its feathery body against Remus’s foot. “WaaAHAHAHA! RIHIHIHICHYYYYY! WHYHYHY AHAHARE YOHOHOU DOHOING THAHAHAHAT?!” Remus yelled.

Of course, being a chicken, Richard didn’t answer in a way that would help Remus. Plus, there was business to attend to! Richard continued to rub the foot with its body, and even started nuzzling the foot with the left side of its body. Every single feather that was still attached onto Richard’s body, was caressing and pushing up against the foot with a surprisingly light pressure. The feathers tickled Remus terribly to the point of almost driving him mad with giggles and laughter. “THEHEHE FEHEHEHEATHEHEHEHERS! THEHEHEY TIHIHICKLE SOHOHOHO MUHUHUHUCH!” Remus begged.

Richard didn’t give him a break. The chicken didn’t even lighten up in the slightest! The chicken only added MORE ticklish feelings to his feet by pecking at the spaces between Remus’s toes. “OHGODNAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHEHELP! HEHEHEHEHEHELP! HAHAHAHAHAHA! SOHOHOHOMEOHOHOHONE PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!” Remus pleaded as loud as he could.

Roman’s amused smile quickly dropped when he heard Remus’s pleas. Being the hero he was, Roman broke his “stay hidden” rule and ran right into the room. “I got you Remu-...A chicken?!” Roman reacted.

“IHIHIHIT’S TIIHIHICKLIHIHING MEHEHEHEHE!” Remus told him.

Roman watched for a moment and giggled at the funny scene. “I can see that! Where did it come from?” Roman asked, pretending like he had no idea.

“HEHEHEHELP MEHEHEHEHE!” Remus yelled.

Roman snapped out of his fake facade and grabbed the chicken on the sides of its body. “Let’s give Remus a break, shall we?” Roman encouraged. The chicken let out an eager “BUH-GAWK!” to the prince and started rubbing its face and wings against Roman’s white pants. “Ahahawww! Why are you acting like a dog?” Roman asked.

Meanwhile, Remus had started recovering from the chicken’s tickle attack and was kicking his feet slightly to get the ghost tickles off him. “Gohohohod...You’re an evil chick.” Remus reacted.

“Hey there buddy! What are you doing?” Roman asked, watching as Richard fluffed its feathers towards him.

Remus giggled as he saw the feather fluffs. “He’s asserting his dominance.” Remus told him.

“Oh really?” Roman replied. He looked at Richard. “Asserting your dominance, huh? You think you can dominate a big man like me? A strong, dragonslayer like me?!” Roman teased.

“Yup!” Remus declared before he picked up Roman’s foot and tickled it.

“EEEP! HEHEHEY! NOHOHO REHEHEHEMUHUHUHUS!” Roman laughed, kicking his other foot desperately. “IHIHI’M GOHOHONNA KIHICK YOU! I’M GONNA KIHIHIHICK YOHOHOHOHOU!” Roman warned.

“Aww, poor Roman. Getting tickled and weakened by his evil twin brother!” Remus teased.

“IHIHIHI SAHAHAHAVED YOHOHOHOU!” Roman protested.

“Oho! I know that. But you of all people, should’ve thought of the costs of releasing an evil, sexy beast like me!” Remus teased.

Roman slid his back down the wall and wiggled around desperately as he laid on the ground. He was squeezing his eyes shut as he laughed hysterically, unable to get his foot unstuck from Remus’s deadly strong grip. But the tables quickly turned as Richard found Remus’s foot again and started pecking his toes. “AAAAHEHEHEHE! RIHIHIHICHYYY!” Remus squealed, turning onto his butt and butt scooting himself away from the chicken.

But Remus happened to butt scoot right into Roman’s wiggly fingers. Roman wrapped his arms around Remus’s waist and drilled into the lower back of Remus’s ribs. “BAHAhahaha! Knohohohock ihihit ohohohoff Rohohomahahahan!” Remus giggled at him as he rolled and wiggled around.

“Get him, Richard!” Roman ordered. Richard didn’t skip a beat and eagerly rubbed its body against Remus’s feet. “HHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! TOHOHOHOO TIHIHIHICKLIHIHISH!” Remus mentioned amidst his newfound hysterics.

Remus felt trapped and restricted from doing much without causing harm. The truth is, Remus has never been scared of hurting Roman. But Roman wasn’t even doing very much at all! It was Richard’s ticklish feathers that were ultimately driving him up the wall! It was taking everything in Remus to not kick the chicken off him. The rubbing was killing his feet with softness, therefore killing the bits of sanity he had left in him! But thankfully, Richard became satisfied with the smell it now permanently possessed, and made its way over to Roman to spread its lovely smell on him.

“Hey Richard! You giving Remus a bit of a break? Now wa-hahahaha! WAIT! NAHAHAHAHAhahaha! Rihihichard dohohohon’t!” Roman fell into yet another puddle of giggles as Richard started rubbing its head against Roman’s inner arch. “Whyhyhyhy mehehehe?!” Roman asked.

Richard let out one last “GAWK!” sound and resumed spreading its smell to the people it loved. It didn’t take long for Richard to become a silly member of the family! Richard took on Remus’s chaotic nature, and took on a little bit of Patton’s cuddly nature. Usually when the chicken wanted a cuddle, it would run up to Roman or Remus.

But no matter who it was the chicken ran up to for cuddles, tickles were always included...

[bunnyswriting]

A Bright Future

Paring: Leon x Reader

Content: some sweet fluff

Hey, I really love your writing! Could you do a Leon x Reader where Leon and the reader go way back? Like he helped them catch their first Pokémon cause they were struggling. Eventually the reader moves away for a while and then comes back. Just some good ol' fashioned fluff. Hope it makes sense >.>' - anon

Notes: Oooo this one was fun to write, childhood crushes becoming romances is one of the my favorite tropes lol

Masterlist

“It’s going to take a little bit of damage, and once it does you’ll throw that pokeball and catch it!”

“Leon are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt it, I just really want a pokemon,” you reply nervously, peeking around the tree to make sure that the Rookidee you’d been keeping an eye on was still there.

“(Nickname), it’ll be fine, we’ll just catch it and I can give you a potion to heal it,” Leon assures you, handing you a newly purchased pokeball, it’s red top gleaming in the sunlight.

You purse your lips a bit, before nodding and taking the ball, grasping it in your small hands. 

“Okay, when I give you the signal you’ll hop in and throw the pokeball, okay? Make sure it’s a good, mighty throw!” Leon says with a grin, before pulling his own pokeball out of the pocket of his shorts and dashing around the tree to encounter the little bird pokemon.

As soon as the pokemon sees Leon it chirps loudly and flaps its wings, attempting to look intimidating despite being mere inches tall.

With an excited yell Leon swings his arm back before launching his pokeball and after a brief flash of light a Charmander is in the grass alongside the Rookidee. The fire type lizard hops around before seeing his opponent, and obediently waits for Leon’s first instruction.

The Charmander had been in Leon’s care for a few months now, it was his starter pokemon that Professor Magnolia had gifted him upon learning of his interest in Galar’s gym challenge. He seemingly spent all of his free time bonding with and training the fire type, and their friendship was apparent to all who saw them work together.

“Charmander use ember!” Leon calls out, and his pokemon is quick to oblige, spitting out a small ball of flame and launching it at the Rookidee.

The flying type make an attempt at evading the attack but is far too slow, taking noticeable damage once the fire hits it. In retaliation it runs up to the Charmander and pecks it with its beak before scurrying back to avoid being attacked again.

Leon turns to look back at you with a little grin, and you can see just how much he loves the thrill of the battle. “(Name), c’mon, I’m sure you’ll be able to catch it now!”

Nervously you step around the tree, pokeball clutched tight in your hands. You glance over at Leon and see him beckoning you closer while his Charmander keeps its gaze on the Rookidee to make sure it doesn’t escape.

You take in a sharp breath before reeling your arm back and chucking the ball, watching as it hit the flying type atop the head and sucked it inside of the catching contraption.

One shake.

You cross your fingers on both your hands, hoping that it’ll stay caught.

A second shake.

“C’mon… c’mon,” you hear Leon whisper under his breath.

A third shake.

Both of you have your eyes focused on the ball, unable to tear your gazes away.

The sound of a lock clicking rings through the air.

“Yes!!” Leon exclaims, grabbing your hands and pulling you close, “we caught it!!”

You laugh and squeal when he managed to lift you off of the ground, swinging you around in a celebratory hug. All the while Leon’s Charmander danced around in the grass, just as happy as the two of you.

Leon sets you down, his hazel eyes bright as he looks down at you (despite the two of you being ten he was still taller than you). “Go on, go get your new pokemon,” he urges you, nudging his head in the direction of the lone pokeball on the ground.

You nod and step away from him, gentle as you lean down and pick up the ball. It jiggles around in your hand momentarily, and you bite your lip nervously as you press your finger to the button that unlocks it.

There’s a flash of light and that Rookidee you’d caught is flapping its wings excitedly, gliding in place in front of you. “Hello there,” you murmur gently, not wanting to scare your new pokemon. You hold your hands out and let it land in your palms, and it quickly makes itself at home by fluffing up its feathers and snuggling against you.

“I think it likes you,” Leon says happily, calling back his Charmander before walking next to you, “are you going to name it?”

“I dunno, I think I’ve got to get to know it better before giving it a proper name,” you hum, petting the top of it’s head gingerly before calling it back into its pokeball. “Well what now?” you ask, turning to look at Leon, “are you going to keep training?”

Leon nods excitedly, making his purple hair bounce up and down, “yea!! The gym challenge starts in a month, and I’ve got to be ready for it,” he explains, stretching his arms up, “I’m going to catch a few more pokemon and train them all up. Professor Magnolia’s already given me an endorsement to join the challenge, I just have to go and get registered. Raihan’s going to do the challenge too! I think the Hammerlocke gym leader gave him an endorsement.”

“That’s exciting,” you reply with a smile, “battling’s never really been my thing, but you’re so good at it- Raihan too. I bet you’ll be able to get to the semifinals, and when you do I’ll be watching from home!”

Leon grins hearing this, “you think so? Then I guess I’ll have to beat the champion too if you’re watching, can’t let you down after all.”

“You think you can beat the champion?”

“As soon as I this Charmander of mine is fully evolved I have no doubt I can take the champion down!”

You laugh and listen and he explains his battle strategy, but before he can give you a full presentation you hear Leon’s mother calling out from further up the road.

“Leon, it’s dinnertime! And (Name)’s family already called, it’s time to go home now!”

Leon pouts a little before turning back to look at you, “I guess I’ll have to continue this lesson another time.”

“Whatever you say, future champion,” you say with a grin, grabbing the brim of his sports cap and tugging it down, “last one at the house is a lazy Skwovet!”

“Hey!!” Leon exclaims, but you’re already gone, booking it down the road with your new pokeball in hand.

---

A smile graces your lips as you watch the gym challenge finale, the ‘Unbeatable Champion’ Leon claiming yet another victory and retaining his champion status.

The hustle and bustle of the airport around you doesn’t manage to distract you and you can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the man on the screen, wondering how he’d managed to become so handsome in the years you’d been gone.

A voice comes over the intercom, saying that boarding for your flight to Wyndon from the Galar region had begun. With a sigh you pocket your phone and stand up, grabbing your bags and boarding pass and walking towards the terminal.

You’d moved to Unova about eight years ago, roughly a year after Leon had won the Galar gym challenge and become champion. Both your parents worked for the same company and they’d gotten a job in the region, with housing covered and a phenomenal pay rate they would’ve never received in Galar.

You knew moving at the time was good for your family, but you couldn’t help being torn up when the move came. Packing up and leaving everything you’d ever known wasn’t easy- especially your best friend Leon. He’d gotten busy being champion but when you told him the news about the move he was devastated and begged you to stay. You explained to him why you couldn’t and he seemed to understand, but wanted to remain in touch.

You each promised you’d keep contact but as the years went on he became a busy champion and you moved on to focus on your own interests. 

Now though, you’d gotten a job offer back in Galar. You’d studied under Professor Juniper in Unova and now Professor Magnolia had reached out to ask for your help researching a phenomenon called ‘Dynamax’; you’d even be able to live in your hometown Postwick again. 

You accepted the offer without a second thought, ecstatic to go back. You mailed all your belongings ahead of time and they should’ve already arrived in Postwick, all you had to do after that was buy your plane ticket and get there. 

You couldn’t be happier as you found your plane seat and got settled in, thinking about all the people you’d get to see again… thinking about Leon.

You would’ve been stupid to say you didn’t have a little crush on him as a kid, but it seems that even know as an adult that crush only persisted.

The shaking Pokeball on your belt pulls you out of your thoughts and you pat it gently, “shh, it’s okay Fe, I’ll let you out as soon as we touch down,” you murmur, attempting to calm your Corviknight before the long flight. 

As soon as the plane takes off you aimlessly scroll through the channels for the inflight television, pausing when you see Leon giving a live interview after the championship match, looking as happy and vibrant as ever.

You turn on the captions to try and read what he’s saying, and as soon as you do so he says something about the future looking bright, and you can’t help but smile and wholeheartedly agree.

---

“It’s a bit stupid that they don’t allow bigger pokemon to be loose when riding the train, I’m sure there’d be enough room for you,” you mutter as you step out of the Wedgehurst station, breathing in the fresh countryside air.

You grab the pokeball on your belt and click the button, letting a very restless Corviknight out to stretch its wings. There’s a loud caw in your ears as Fe sniffs the air and looks around, before getting a rather excited look in its eyes as it shakes its tail.

“You recognize you’re home, buddy? C’mon, if we walk up that way I can show you the route I caught you on,” you say with a grin, putting the empty pokeball on your belt and grabbing your luggage.

Your Corviknight follows behind you, and people easily part to let you walk by when the see the giant metal bird you call your partner. As you head towards the road that’ll take you right to Postwick, you overhear a group of people talking outside one of the shops:

“Did you watch Leon’s battle earlier?” “I sure did, that was amazing! How his Charizard managed to take down that Gyrados, I’ll never understand. He’s here isn’t he?”

“Yea, visiting his family after the match, I saw him leaving the train stop about an hour ago.”

You feel a smile tug at your lips upon hearing this and suddenly you’re walking at a faster pace, and the only reason you’re not sprinting is because you’re carrying two luggage bags.

Within minutes you find the house you’ll be staying in, it’s just down the road from your childhood home as well. You leave your bags behind and without really thinking you’re running up the dirt road, Fe having to fly to keep up with you as you head straight to Leon’s house.

Once you get to the door you’re panting, and Fe caws impatiently, wondering what the hell you’re up to.

Catching your breath, you fix your composure before raising a hand, knocking on the door three times.

You hear some voices inside, muffled so you can’t hear who’s saying what. You step back as a lock gets fiddled with, and you feel your heart stop when you find yourself staring into a pair of hazel eyes.

Leon, who’s just as taken aback as you are, struggles to find words as a grin starts to appear on his face. “... (Nickname)?”

You’re not able to stop yourself when you jump up into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him the tightest hug you were capable of. Tears pricked your eyes when he wrapped his arms around your torso, hugging you back just a tight.

“... hey Lee, who’s that?” 

The two of you separate and you glance behind Lee to see a young boy at the bottom of a staircase, head tilted in slight confusion as he stared at you.

It takes a moment to click in your mind, but you gasp when you realize who it is. “Hop??” you ask with a grin, stepping away from Leon to get a better look at his younger brother, “the last time I saw you you’d just starting learning how to read and write, but look at you now!”

Hop seems to piece together the puzzle in his head as well, since he jumps back and his eyes go wide, “(Name)? Oh it’s been ages! I thought you’d never come back, especially with how Lee always talked about wishing you were still around-”

He claps a hand over his mouth, realizing he’d said something he shouldn’t have. You look back over at Leon to see a red blush on his cheeks and he quickly tries to change the subject. “H-hey, (Name), who’s this?”

He points outside towards Fe and you smile, stepping back outside and wrapping your arms around the bird pokemon, who still seems a bit annoyed by the detour. “Oh, c’mon Leon, don’t tell me you can’t recognize my first pokemon,” you say with a grin, making the champion gasp.

“This is that Rookidee?” he asks, gingerly lifting a hand to pet Fe’s beak. You’re almost surprised when Fe doesn’t jut back, normally nobody except you is allowed to touch them.

You nod, “oh yes, this is that same Rookidee, just fully evolved, and peeved because I’m here chatting instead of getting food for the two of us.”

“Oh! Mum’s cooking, you should stay for dinner! I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the company, and Leon probably has tons he wants to tell you,” Hop suggests, and you snicker a little upon seeing Leon bury his face in his hands in embarrassment.

--- 

The radio on the counter top plays some tunes as you go around your new house, sweeping the floor and moving furniture around, trying to find a place for all the items you’d brought. The windows are open letting in a cool breeze and above the music you could hear the distant chitters and chirps of various pokemon.

A Skwovet hops in through the window in search of food, but Fe merely has to stare it down and caw aggressively once to send it running out again. You laugh at the scene, but a knock at the door distracts you.

You set down your broom and head towards the front door, unlocking it. You’re not too surprised when you see Leon standing there, the two of you had been spending quite a lot of time together when you weren’t busy moving in and he wasn’t busy with champion duties.

What did surprise you, however, was the small bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“(Name), you and I are childhood friends, we’ve known each other for as long as I can remember. You’re one of the most fascinating people I know and I am so lucky to have the honor of knowing your personally. You’re talented and smart and a joy to be around, but I find that my feelings have become more than just friendly ones. Would you… possibly like to go on a date with me?”

He says all of this carefully, as though cautiously picking out his words. His typical confident demeanor was subdued and you could tell that this was something he was taking incredibly seriously. 

You smile softly as you reach forward, taking the flowers from his hands. “Leon, I’d absolutely love to… on one condition.”

He lights up at this, but gives you a confused look, “condition?”

“Do something about that awful cape you wear as part of your uniform.”

He’s taken aback and laughs, but shakes his head, “oh no, that is the one thing that is off the table, the cape stays. And it is not awful, mind you.”

You giggle as you shrug your shoulders, “alright alright, you drive a hard bargain, but I suppose I’ll still agree to go on this one date.”

“Will it only be one?” he asks with a bit of sly smile.

“No, probably not. I think there will probably be many many more after this one,” you muse, giving him a wink.

“So I suppose I was right when I said the future looked bright in that interview last week.”

“Yes, yes you were,” you grin, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek sweetly.

[saelwen]

Maglor x Dragon!Reader

Maglor x Dragon!Reader

Request from a lovely anon:

Just giving an idea. Maglor and dragon reader. Maglor was just singing peacefully in the forest then he suddenly meets dragon reader. Instead of menacing and dark, dragon reader is purely white and has feather wings. Dragon reader is also a total sweetheart and kind that it's unbelievable they are Morgoth's creation. Plot twist they are Ancalagon's kid. Maglor and Dragon reader then became friends. Silly idea but what ya think?

Masterlist

Warning: Angst, fluf

Words: 2k

A tired sigh fell from Maglor's lips as he puts down his harp beside him. He looks up to the bright blue sky, seeing the beautiful clouds moving slowly in the blue canvas.

It was another lonely day for him. His brothers had gone for one of their hunts which Maglor didn't like very much, preferring to stay in his room playing on his harp. But lately, he has been lonely. The whish of returning to Valinor haunted his dreams, longing to see his mother and the beautiful sight of the blessed lands. He couldn't say this to his brothers, they wouldn't understand and call him a traitor. Cowards for not be brave enough to finish the oath of his father but Maglor thought that all the misery and destruction that his family did, all this awful war against the Valar and Morgoth it wasn't worth it just for some jewels.

Maglor wanted to go back to his real home, to seek comfort on his mother's arms. Listening to her gentle voice saying that everything is going to be okay but he knew that it wasn't since if he goes back to Valinor, he would have to pay for the crimes of his father and brothers.

His thoughts were interrupted by a roar like thunder booming in the skies. He stood up from his seat by the window and saw a massive form falling from the sky into the woods near his fortress.

"What in Eru was that?" he whispers under his breath.

Maglor wraps his cloak around him, grabbing his sword, he walks out of his room and mounted his stallion. He grabs the reins tightly and orders his horse into a fast trot, going towards the direction where the creature had fallen. Trying to not get much attention on him.

After a while of searching the forest, Maglor finally got a clue where the creature might be since he found a gigantic pool of dark blood in the middle of a clearing. He followed the blood and found himself at the entrance to a cave. Maglor could hear the painful growls and whimpers coming from inside the dark den.

Grabbing tightly his sharp sword, Maglor took a few steps inside, his grey eyes alert to any kind of threat that could bring him harm. A gasp fell from his lips as he saw a beautiful white-haired maiden curled in the cold ground, the same dark blood that he had found early was pouring from your side, where was a large wound.

You were gorgeous! Your pale skin and pure white hair remind him of the pearls of Alqualondë. There were scales spread through your body which confused him since you look just mere beautiful mortal but something told that wasn't the case.

You lift slowly your head and shiver in fear when you saw him standing there with his shining sword on his hand, ready to strike.

"P..Please..." you whimper while lifting your bloody hands in surrender. "Don't hurt me!"

As the black-haired elf heard your pleads, he lowers his sword. His gorgeous grey eyes study you closely, noticing your pale cat-like eyes and the whitish scales on you neck and arms.

"Who are you?" his voice was soft and sweet but still firm enough to make you shake in your boots.

You took a deep breath, looking down at your open wound. "I don't think that you want to know..." you whisper while cupping your wound. A hiss fell from your lips as you try to stop the bleeding. In an instant, the Noldor elf was beside you with a red cloth in his hands. He shoves away your hand and wraps the soft fabric around your torso, tight enough to stop the wound from bleeding. Happy with his job, the elf took a step back and bows his head slowly.

"I think I would love to know... I'm Maglor," he said gently. "Nice to meet you."

You sigh tiredly and nod to him, resting your back against the cold stone. "I'm Y/n...Daughter of Ancalagon..." as you said that name, his eyes went wide which didn't surprise since everyone knows who's your father.

Maglor stood up and took a step back, his long fingers wrapping around the handler of his sword. "Ancalagon?...Impossible," he whispers, his grey eyes narrowing in confusion and fear. "You look... human? How?" he asked.

You fixed your pale eyes on his. "I look human because I can change forms... I was being pursued by my father so I had to shape to something he couldn't know that was me." you said while trying to contain your tears, the cruel memories of the thing that your father did to you were coming back in full force. You force a fake smile and nod to the elf. "Thank you for helping me with my wound, Prince Maglor." you knew well who he was and who was his family. Since your birth, all you could hear was the stories of the Noldor folk.

Maglor nods slowly and looks down at your wound. "I'm guessing that was your father who did that," he said while pointing to your bloody side. You nod gently, starting feeling very tired all a sudden. The long nights and days of running away from your father's grasp, not have drink or eat for nearly a week are starting to take effect.

As you were closing your eyes, you saw Maglor walking away, mounting his stallion and galloping away from the cave. You smile sadly, you were hoping to have at least a friend but you were a creation of Morgoth...Nothing good could happen to you.

---

A warm hand gently shook you, waking you for your deep slumber. Your eyes shot open quickly, scared that your father had found you again but to your surprise, you were met by a familiar pair of gentle grey eyes.

Maglor stood beside you with a cup that contains something green inside. "Drink this...it will help to heal your wound," he said while resting the cup on your lips. The strong smell of the strange liquid made your nose wrinkle in disgust which made him chuckle. "It may taste bad but it will be good for you."

You nod and drank all at once, gagging at the awful flavor. When you finished, Maglor helps you lie down and change your bandages to clean ones. You notice a basket filled with delicious food in the back, Maglor follows your gaze and smile gently.

"I brought you some food," he said while he finished putting the clean bandages. "I will make you a plate."

Your stomach growled loudly as you see him putting a slice of warm bread and other kinds of delicious food on a plate. He feeds you slowly since you hadn't eaten solid food in your stomach for a week. It was hard for not bury your face into the plate and eat like a feral animal but you knew that it wouldn't end well for you.

When you finished your meal, you lie down again, pulling the silky blanket up to your chin that Maglor had brought with him. You felt your skin feverish and Maglor must have sense it since he put a wet cloth on your forehead, trying to stop the fever.

You felt weak and vulnerable and you didn't like that. In all your long life, you spend days trying to survive since you weren't like your siblings or father. A tear fell from your eye as you thought of your old life. The things that they force you to do.

Maglor cleans the cold tear away and tucks a piece of white hair behind your ear. "Life hasn't been good to you, am I right?" he said gently.

You nod and sniff, letting the tears run down freely. "My past was full of torture and other things...because I'm not like the other dragons." you took a deep breath and look to the stone wall beside you. "I'm filled with light as my father said...and he had to extinguish it." There was a long silence, Maglor was looking at you with sad eyes, pitying you and you hate it.

You roll over to the side so your back was to him and try to fall back to sleep which wasn't hard since you were still very weak. You heard Maglor sigh and felt his warm hand stroking your arm, spreading a comfortable feeling through your body.

---

You two made this as routine for a month. Maglor would come in the morning with food and healing supplies, he changes your bandages and filled your belly. You two become really close during that time, he would share some stories of Valinor which you adore it and it become a dream of yours to see the blessed lands. Sometimes he would play his harp, lulling you to sleep with his magnificent voice.

Slowly, you begin becoming stronger. Your wound was completely healed by the end of the month which was good and bad news. You knew that you have to get out of this place and search for a better home, maybe something in the mountains...but you didn't want to leave Maglor.

He had grown in your heart and you feel things, that you didn't understand, for him. Wishing that his kissable lips were on yours, kissing hungrily but you knew that never would happen.

This time when Maglor enters the cave, you were standing up, fully heal. You had his cloak wrapped around your naked body since you hadn't any clothes.

"Good Morning, Y/n!" he said cheerfully.

You smile sadly to him and nod. "Good Morning, Maglor." the smile on his face vanished when he notices your cheerless voice. "Today is the day... I must go."

Maglor swallows dryly and said nothing, shocked by the sudden news. A single tear fell from his eye and was followed by a small sob. You stood still, seeing the man that have saved you, crying because you had to leave him.

"No... Not you too..." he whisper under his breath.

You walk to him and cup his soaked cheek, feeling your tears running down your eyes. "I have too... I only bring you misery if I stay here," you said gently, smiling sadly to him.

He shook his head and pull you into a bear hug. "No! No, you wouldn't!" he whisper against your ear. "Don't go without me! Please... Take me with you! There's nothing for me here..." he said while pulling back a little, looking to your pale eyes.

You sigh and nod, feeling excited all a sudden. "Okay...but to where we would go? My father could find us and that something you wouldn't want." you look down to your tangled hands, his fingers rubbing gently your skin.

Maglor looks outside, seeing the sun shining bright in the west. "Let's go to Valinor... There we will be safe from your father and the others."

Your eyes bulge as you hear his words. "Valinor?! Maglor, the Valar will not accept a creation of Morgoth on their lands!" you said.

"Yes, but they will see the good in you as I saw... Don't worry, Y/n" he rests his forehead on yours, his lips hovering over yours. "Everything will be okay." he leans down and crushes his lips into yours, kissing you lovely.

You two pour all your love into the kiss, showing your feelings without words that weren't needed. He pulls back and smiles softly to you. "Let's go home, Y/n."

You nod slowly and walk outside. Taking a deep breath, you let your true form set free. Maglor stood at the entrance of the cave, looking up at you in awe, seeing how massive you were.

You were a pure white dragon, with massive wings and two large horns on each side of your gigantic head. Your whitish scales shine brightly as the sunlight bathe you, glowing beautifully.

You lower your shoulder and let him climb up. Maglor sits comfortably in your back and grabs your spikes. "You're beautiful, Y/n!" he whispers which made you chuckle.

"Well, thank you, my love!" you said with a deep voice, making the ground shake. "Ready?"

He nods and smiles in excitement. "Ready!"

With that, you jump up high in the air and flap your massive wings, making the trees shake violently. You fly you two towards the west, following the sun. To where you and Maglor will finally find happiness.

Hey Guys!! Here’s a new one shot with Maglor! How do you think the valar receive them? With open arms or with frowns on their faces? I hope you guys enjoy it and feel free to comment and tell me what you think!

Also, go follow my new blog! @always-be-lilith-never-eve​

XOXO

[wistfulwisteriawitch]

Arthur Morgan x Lilith Vallent OC: Vas Ura (My One)/ Vas Soluna (My Bonded) Part 01 Chapter 03: Colter

Part 01 Chapter 03: Colter

I managed to get myself set up, knowing we’d actually be going after John since he was still missing. Attaching the leather over bust corset riddled with knives as well as the leather leg guards I exhaled, it would be interesting to see what they thought of our way of doing things but they seemed rather accepting thus far.

And as we moved to go out, Abigale grabbed my sleeve. “Miss Vallent?”

“Yes Abigale?”

“John…”

“Oh the gentleman that you said was your sons father?”

“Yes…”

Arthur had walked into the room and was warming himself by the fire. “Where’s little John gotten off to?”

“Arthur he hasn’t been seen in a couple days, I fear the worst.”

“John is fine, he gets himself out of scrapes all the time.” Arthur huffed. "Granted he could throw himself on the ground and miss so that's a feat in and of itself."

I cocked a brow, “I’ll go find him.” I pat her arm, “I can track him.”

Arthur groaned, “I’ll go with ya.”

“How kind.” I grinned as I walked by, Hosea nudged me as I sidled by with a smirk and a whispered thank you.

“I’ll come too!” Javier noted. “John would do the same for me and Arthur.”

“Sure, might be good considering the wolves.”

“Wolves?” Javier asked as we mounted up.

I nodded, after ensuring I had everything needed including shotgun with slugs. “Yes, alright you two, flank me, head forward in a V position, and try to keep it unless we head up the mountain, in that case line up.” With that I spurred Luna into a gallop. “Let’s go! Belladonna shadow!”

“Aye Milady!” And with that her horse charged off into the wilderness.

“Shadow?” Arthur inquired as we moved at a quick pace.

“She’ll scout ahead, and send Aristotle if she finds something.”

“And that is—“ A screech above as a Ferrugius Hawk soared past.

“She is skilled in Falconry, her family learned for many years in her home country. Normally their line uses Peregrine, but him...he's been with Belladonna alone, and each member has their own Falcon breed. Birds like that are the largest of hawks to be used for Falconry. And he is quite protective. She found him in Mexico.”

“Ha!” Javier seemed a bit stunned, “you all keep surprising us.”

“We are a surprising people. Javi.” I managed to find John’s trail and exhaled, “fuck he went up the mountain.” Just like the game.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “just like him to have someone dig his ass out of snow.”

I sighed, “Arthur take the middle, Javier take the front, I’ll watch the back.” And with a chiding look as he glanced over his shoulder. “This is what family does.” I noted as we lined up and began to trek up the mountainside, myself taking the end. “Javier do you see where the trail picks up?”

“Yes, he headed up this way.”

“We’ll have to leave the horses.” Arthur noted and I agreed, we got off and began to make our way further along a cliffside. “John!” Javi shouted.

“HELP! DOWN HERE!”

With that I took off, making sure to keep my movements swinging forward to help me trudge through the snow faster. “Mister Marston?” I called finding him on the ledge. “Awe poor puppy.”

“Puppy?! Who in the fuck are you?”

“A friend. Hold the fuck still. We don’t need you bleeding and bringing a bear. Wolves are a pain in the ass enough.” I gathered what I needed from my satchel and made him down a few tonics and salved him up with an antiseptic solution of old mans beard and golden thread. “That will have to do for now, I’ll need to draw any infection out at the cabin. Alright, come on.” I gripped under his arm and hauled him up. “Arthur!”

They were there reaching for him, Arthur laughing, “well now Marston, looks like ya got yer head ate by wolves. How much’a yer brains did they get?”

“Shut up Morgan.”

“You gonna have to come up with a better story for those scars.”

“Getting half eaten by wolves ain’t enough?”

“We got company gentlemen!” I shouted, ”Javier, Arthur— get him to the horses!”

“I got you.” Arthur had one shot down in seconds as the others charged down the slope.”

“BELLA!” A shrill whistle as a large hawk circled over head and dove into the eyes of one of the wolves screeching.

A black streak of horse and woman charged forward from behind us as she leapt off it's back, her body clad in leather padding as she took the tackle of a she-wolf head on while I dodged and sliced a death blow to a jugular. “Come on ya wee bitch!” Bella roared plunging a blade into it’s throat.

Aristotle soared high, blood splattering from his talons and across his feathers as Bella let out a snarl of glee when the final wolf was downed by a blade thunked into it’s throat.

Arthur shot down the final one, sighing and glancing at the two of us. “Remind me never to make her angry.” He mused as Bella ruffled Aristotle’s feathers and set him loose again, “that is a big bird.”

“He’s a beauty inn’e?” Bella asked fluffing her hair out and wiping blood off her face. “We ready?”

“Yes, John how you holding up?” I asked.

“Feel drunk.”

“Good that means it’s working.”

“Oh joy.” Was the sarcastic reply.

We managed to make it down the mountain, Belladonna staying to get the meat and pelts from the wolves.

“She gonna be alright?” Javier asked.

“Worry about the woodland creatures who piss her off.” I laughed.

“Bella?” Belial asked as we rode in, “ah…hunting.” He chuckled and walked off back towards the kitchen area.

Arthur sighed and leaned over to speak to me, “watch the golden boy not get a scolding despite holding up a job.”

Dutch of course was ecstatic John was back and Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Siblings?” I asked smiling.

“We both was raised by Dutch and Hosea. They taught us to read.”

“Awe, I can see that.” I smiled wide at him, and he returned with a shy smile back. He gets a bit of a playful look, “you know for someone so small you sure as hell take up a lot of space.” He sniffs and cocks a brow.

“You know for someone so big you can curl up on the edge of a bed real easy. Next time just huggle-up and I won’t have to latch on like a damn possum.”

It was the first time he genuinely laughed. “I’ll remember that little wolf.” He was glancing over my gear and had a look of confusion.

“Leather, protects quite well.”

“What ya goin to war?” He poked my arm guards and outer leg guards as well as the leather corset flicking a knife handle.

“Life is war.” I tilted my head.

“Hmph, ain’t that just bout right.”

As I was about to ask what he meant Belladonna zoomed into camp with furs and blood all over her. “I’m back!” She said prancing off her stallion Bairn.

I chuckled, “welcome back sister.”

“Didja see the pelt on that she-wolf?” She crowed tugging it off her horse, “it’s like ya hair milady, I should make a new cloak and we can trade.”

“I would like that thank you Bella.” She grinned and whistled for Aristotle who landed on her thickly gloved forearm. “There’s a good boy.”

Everyone in camp balked.

“Wah ya never seen’a damn bird afore?” She scoffed. “Come on pretty boy.” She was feeding him strips of wolf, “lessee what ya da is up ta.”

I rolled my eyes. “You get used to her.”

“Body can get used to anything…”

“Even hanging.” I finished and we laughed walking over to Hosea and Dutch.

“Got anymore maidens that need saving?” Arthur asked.

“No,” Hosea chuckled. “Thanks you three.”

“Javier tipped his hat and walked off as Arthur joined me in the cabin where Abigale tended to Marston.

“Alright, lemme work.” I shooed most people away, and grinned. “Marston this is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Ya aint gotta look like ya gonna enjoy it!”

Arthur chuckled, “I will.”

“Of course you would.” John muttered.

I forced willow bark tea down his throat, irrigated the wound with stinging solutions of horsetail and once it was cleaned I made a salve and packed it with bandages. “Don’t touch it. You’ll have a mark but congratulations you were chosen to bear them by a powerful creature. In our ways it means you are protected.”

“Sure felt like that when they bit me.”

“They could have killed you.” I said softly. “But they did not. They left. Think upon that. I do not play with coincidence or dice to tell me my fate rather that things happen for a reason.”

John pondered and cracked a slight grin. “Guess so.”

“Either way, get rest, I shall have Bel bring food, you need to gather your strength to heal.”

“Thank you.” Abigale clutched my hand tight and I nodded, “let Jack see his Pa.” I leveled a gaze at John, “I am sure he was quite worried for his father.”

John seemed to squirm under my direct gaze and I softened it before leaving.

“What was that?”

“It seemed there was some tension in regards to little Jack.” I said.

“That obvious?” Arthur huffed an annoyed sound.

“Yes, but Marston is young, he can learn.”

Arthur glanced me up and down, “hm.” Was all he said.

I really wished I could get into his head sometimes.

— - - - - - - - - - - -

Arthur grumbled, “some people learn too late.” And he walked away, his chest heavy with memories long past. “Other’s should be so lucky.”

She caught his hand, “Arthur, despite that lessons can be passed down to prevent more pain.” Her voice is soft, and that damned look she gives him— it’s not pity, he couldn’t stand it if it was but this is somehow worse— she has an air of understanding, an acceptance about her with him as if whatever he lays at her feet is perfectly fine.

“Maybe so.”

That hand retreats, she seems to be thinking as she chews her bottom lip looking at her feet for a moment.

“S-sorry I know I probably—“

“S’fine.” He assured her rubbing the back of his neck. “Just a hang up he and I have had.”

Lilith nodded, “my brother and I had something similar happen.”

“Oh?”

“Yes…but we managed to talk it out.” Arthur lets out a bark of harsh laughter.

“Me and him? Talk? Shoot, ya ain’t known us long but ya gonna see that’s a bit hard for us Van der Linde boys.”

“Oh that’s plain as day Mister Morgan. But as I said, everyone can learn.” A wink as she sauntered off.

“Damn woman.” He grumbles to himself striking a match on his boot to light up a smoke. He couldn’t make heads or tails of her as she checked in with Dutch and asked him several questions, Dutch did seem to be in a better mood, and she was always checking in with him— she said the word was deference. She acknowledged he was leader. But she herself led the two people she had.

Arthur had to admit the way she did things did scream leadership. It was rare to see such things. There wasn’t anything she herself wouldn’t do that she’d ask of others. Mucking a stall, hunting, ensuring people were clothed, mending, healing…Dutch hadn’t done that for a long time but he did get his hands dirty when needed.

It further solidified Arthur’s ideology that if women ran shit it might be a mite better, he glanced at Susan who was chatting with Hosea before she went off to screech at someone for not working hard enough.

Belladonna walked up to him and grinned, offering her hawk, “wanna pet’im, seems ta like ya.”

Arthur was never one to pass up petting an animal.

Shit he’d pet a bear if it wouldn’t rip his damn arm off.

“Sure, Aristotle was it?”

“Mmhm. He had many ideas of the stars that man. Mi’lady said it suited because this hawk could damn near fly to them with these wings.” She kissed the hawk who let out a little chirping sound as Arthur placed a warm finger against it’s chest feathers. The big raptor fluffed his feathers and crooned, leaning forward and nudging Arthur’s hand.

“Here, he likes meat.”

“Here boy.” Aristotle took the piece and gulped it down and flapped his wings before Bella let him go. “He just nests somewhere?”

“Oh aye, he has a mate somewhere, but I canna catch her, she is too fierce. But she hunts with him and has never left his side. They keep the same mates their whole life.” She smiled up at the sky and sure enough, a smaller hawk circled with him swooping and gliding. “Quite a sight.”

“Sure is.” Arthur grinned. “You all keep any other animals?”

“Oh aye, you should see the family wolves.”

Arthur paused as he walked by, “beg pardon?” He furrowed his brow.

“Milady found a pack of wolves who’s cubs were abandoned. She took them all in, they are the sweetest, deadly, but they are the comfiest things to snuggle with. Sometimes all four of them are with her.”

“And these are….ah…”

“No here. They in the wilds probably hunting, somewhere up north west in the Grizzlies. They look different, no from here. Timber wolves from the west. Darker coats. Then the wolf dogs…all except for Talla—they look like they wolf kin. She is almost a strawberry color but she’s half wolf and half some big dog from Alaska.”

“Been round a lot.”

“Aye, we been all over. The wolves are bout five or so now. Talla and her siblings are with her brothers, she breeds them.”

“Breeds wolves.”

“Just for the family.”

“Ah.” This family got weirder and weirder, “they guard? The wolves not the half breed ones.”

“No no, wolves are quite timid despite people thinking they fierce, unless the family is attacked, they no just go about attacking randomly, Talla and her siblings though, they were bred with a type’a dog that will protect their master anywhere, any time. Talla especially, her mate is a full wolf, but she is far fiercer than he.”

Arthur laughed, “you talk like they people.”

“You talk to yer horse like it’s people.”

She had him there. He kicked at the snow. “Never knew an animal to dislike it.”

Belladonna grinned, “you ken for a scary bastard, ye pretty nice.”

“Don’t know nuthin bout that.” Arthur snorted as he walked off.

Dinner was a lighter affair now that John was back, everyone celebrated with some whiskey and a meal of wolf steaks and deer meat. Arthur watched as everyone milled around, chatted, and tried to liven their spirits, the deaths of ones close still loomed— as did the damn frost.

Some spring this turned out to be.

He glanced at the three strangers who had dropped into their lives as he scribbled.

It is rather strange to be in the company of wolves.

I find that they are a gentle people unless provoked, despite their appearances, the females are far more aggressive then their male counterparts, as Belial seems to have a very playful nature, they all do in fact. Shoving at one another as they walk in the snow to push the other into a drift. Or leaping onto one another’s backs as they run off.

I have only seen wolves play once, when I came across a den by accident when the welping season came. Indulgent and confident in my spot I had used binoculars to watch a game of tag played by the pack. It is of similar air.

Hosea is doing alright, but I know the dark haired woman named Lilith is concerned, he is coughing a lot, and his breathing is labored, he stays indoors mostly under her direction, and she’s been shoving tonics into his mouth whenever he allows it. Seeming hell bent on keeping him alive.

John is alright, a pain in my backside still, but he’s lucky to be alive. … We all are.

Not sure what in hell happened on that boat, but whatever it was it weren’t good. Charles heard that a girl died. Dutch outright shot her…saying it needed to be done….

That ain’t like him…

The red head reminds me of Sean, I wonder where that Irish bastard got off to. Knowing him he’s probably found trouble. Davey…Jenny….Both gone in a matter of weeks….We lost folks before but not like this— so needlessly. They are calling it the Blackwater Massacre.

This family is strange, stranger still is the kindness they show everyone. It is gentle, despite their steel hard spines and unwavering eyes…unnerving eyes.

Eyes that gleam when they look at ya, like a beast’s catching firelight in the dark.

She looked at Micah as if he were nothing but an ant to be pitied for facing a mountain.

Wonder what that’s like….ain’t never said I was confident, I can fight with the best of em…

But I have a feeling this woman could give me a run for my money…

Half inclined to piss her off and find out…

[lamiasluck]

Pokemon trainer! Host going into Eric’s daycare to drop off a particularly rowdy ponyta that he had just caught and immediately going into Gay Panic Mode™️ when he sees him surrounded by all sorts of pokemon, reading them a story. he’s got two pidgey on his head using his hair as a nest, an ekans and a rockruff draped across his lap, and most surprisingly, he’s leaning against a fricking charizard.

Oh my goodness I still need to write the other prompt you sent me

I love pokemon aus so much so this has to get a drabble

- 

The Host sighed exasperated as the pokéball strapped to his belt shook violently again. For the dozenth time during his trip. Inside the ball was a pontya he recently caught, and the cause of his strife recently. The ponyta did have the naughty nature, but he didn’t expect it to be this bad. He definitely had a couple burns trying to control the beast. At this point he couldn’t handle another second with ponyta.

However, he couldn’t abandon his new pokémon, his moral code wouldn’t allow that. So he set off to find a solution.

After a particularly rough battle, the Host find out about a new pokémon daycare that opened up.

“But I got this new guy to help my boldore?! He made him unstoppable!”

This new guy, Eric, was praised to no end. Apparently he could endure a lot. His daycare was described as a paradise for pokémon. So hopefully this new guy could handle a rowdy ponyta.

The daycare centre was homey, peacefully standing within a quiet meadow. Any stress was immediately taken away as the Host approached closer, though he had his doubts. People made it sound like this man was a miracle worker, after all.

When the Host opened the door, he was met with an empty reception area. He huffed and called out.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” No response. The door leading to the nursery area was open, so he ventured outside to see what he could find. The visuals his narrations gave him left him awestruck.

Eric was sitting on the grass tending to pokémon. His soft voice sounded like honey as he read a story to his audience of all kinds of pokémon. Perhaps that trainer was right about this daycare being a paradise. A pidgey was resting on top of his head, fluffing its feathers and using his hair as a makeshift nest. Two pokémon found solace on his lap, an ekans and a rockruff, not even a slight hint of conflict between the two. What amazed the Host the most, however, was the giant charizard that he was leaning on as if it was a big pillow.

The Host stood still in awe at the sight. Eric looked so... peaceful, and ethereal, and pretty, and-

No, stay on task!

Eventually Eric noticed the Host’s presence.

“Oh! I-I’m sorry!” Eric got a good look at Host and gasped. Immediately the Host knew he recognized him from his tournament battles. “Uh, o-oh my good-goodness, I-I’m so sorry.” He managed to stand up, much to the dismay of the comfy pokémon, and stood in front of Host.

Eric kept apologizing to no end, and the Host ended up more and more mesmerized by how adorable he was.

Wait, why was he here again...?

“It’s alright, the Host understands.” He made his voice softer. 

“T-The Host...? Wow, I-I didn’t - I’m sorry.” Eric cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I’m Eric, how can I help you?”

Right, that’s why he was here.

“The Host is wondering if Eric could watch over his ponyta. He’s quite rowdy.”

Eric lit up at the claim. “C-Can I see him?”

One press of a button and ponyta sprang free, snorting out a huff and stomping loudly. The Host was ready to scold him again, only for Eric to intervene. He crouched down slightly until he was eye level to the pokémon.

“Aw~ Hi there!” Instantly, all hint of panic was gone in his voice. He held out his hand and let ponyta sniff it. “I’m Eric.” He motioned for one of his pokémon, and soon after an indeedee waddled along holding an oran berry. “Here you go!”

Surprisingly, ponyta didn’t hesitate to eat the berry from his hand, something the Host could never do despite his coaxing. 

“What...?” the Host muttered under his breath. 

Eric straightened up again with a bright smile. “He’s an angel!” he giggled, turning back to Host. “I’ll be happy to take care of him!”

He held out his hand for a shake and it took the Host a couple seconds to digest the situation. The Host hated his mind for noticing how soft and gentle Eric’s hands were.

“The Host will be back in an hour.”

He wanted to spend as much time away from his ponyta, but now he found himself anxious to come back.

[jemwolf]

Guardian

Soooo here’s a little Devil’s Nest!Sev oneshot that would not leave my brain! (Devil’s Nest Sev is the one with little wings and an automail leg who was taken in by Greed’s crew just in case ya' forgot!)

Will I continue this?? Idk maybe? Will I draw more scenes from this?? It's very likely.

tw for child abuse

-

The uneven sound of someone with automail walking around could be heard in Dublith one night. One of the chimeras from The Devil’s Nest was taking advantage of the darkness to take a stroll outside. This chimera wasn’t quite like the rest, however, this one walked comfortably on all fours and had a much more animal appearance than human.

It was Sev herself, happy to finally be given some time to herself. It was late enough at night that she could comfortably walk where she pleased without worry of anyone being awake to see her... or so she thought.

She padded around, humming softly to herself. Other than her own voice, the only other sound was the quiet tap, tap, tap, clank of her footsteps on the stone roads.

The little chimera had been thinking that perhaps she’d been out long enough and started to turn back towards the bar when she heard something unusual. Her ears twitched up and she stopped to listen better.

Voices. A man and a woman, from the sounds of it... they didn’t sound happy. Sev made to slink into an alley and head back to The Devil’s Nest when her sensitive ears picked up another sound. Crying. A child’s crying. Pleading, apologizing.

Her hackles raised as logic and instinct started arguing with each other in her head. Whatever the agreement they came to, Sev found herself running towards the voices.

With her speed, she got there in no time at all, just in time to see a woman raise her hand to strike a child, curses and insults on her and the accompanying man’s lips.

That simply would not stand.

With a noise akin to a barking laugh, the chimera made her presence known, launching herself towards the couple and the kid.

Startled, the humans looked over. In the dark, with only a few dim street lamps, the adults panicked at the sight of some creature laughing and making a break for them.

Sev threw herself between the adults and the child with a growl, long tail lashing and hackles raised as far as they would go, wings raised and feathers fluffed, eyes reflecting bright red in the small amount of light they caught.

The couple hesitated for only a moment, glancing at the child before apparently deciding they weren’t worth it and running.

Sev stood her ground until she was certain they weren’t coming back. Only then did she relax her stance and allow her fur to lie flat again. She turned to look over her shoulder at the kid.

He was still crying, and looked terrified, but he was sitting on the ground, clutching his leg with one hand and trying to wipe away tears with the other.

She backed away a couple of steps and sat down, curling her tail around her paws and lowering her head to appear non-threatening. Her nose twitched. She smelled blood. Sev had to bite back another angry growl at that realization.

“A-are you g-gonna hurt me t-too?” The kid whimpered.

Sev blinked almost comically shocked, and layed down to appear even less threatening.

“No,” she said, “Protect.”

“P-Protect...?” the kid echoed; he was still young enough that an animal talking seemed a perfectly reasonable thing.

Sev nodded, “I protect.”

The kid sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, “Are y-you an angel?”

Sev’s ears twitched in surprise and her small wings fluttered as she chuckled softly, “Don’t think so... You have name?”

The boy sniffled again and nodded, “I’m Walter...”

“Walter,” the chimera repeated, and she lifted a forepaw to her chest to gesture to herself, “Sev.”

“It’s n-nice to m-meet you, Sev,” Walter said.

Sev nodded a little at the greeting and scooted closer to the kid, “You hurt. Walk?”

He shook his head and his lip trembled, “My l-leg...”

Sev whined sympathetically and inched closer again to sniff at his leg. There was a big gash in it and Sev’s ears went back a bit before she softly licked the wound to clean it as best she knew how. Once it was as clean as she could get it, she licked the salty tears from Walter’s cheeks, making him giggle ever so slightly despite how much he hurt.

“We’ll stay. Friends will find me,” Sev told him before curling herself protectively around him.

He sniffled once again and nodded as he gently stroked her head, “Ok...”

Sev sighed and purred ever-so-slightly. Now they would wait.

-

“Hey, has Sev come back yet?”

Martel looked up at Dolcetto from the card game she was playing with a couple other chimeras, “I haven’t seen her. I’m sure she’s fine though.”

Dolcetto frowned, “She’s been gone a few hours now; I wouldn’t usually be concerned, but it’s almost time for sunrise and she knows better than to stay out in the daytime.”

Martel set down her cards and sat up slightly, “You think she’s in trouble?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “but I’m starting to get concerned.”

The snake chimera sighed and nodded, scooting her chair back and standing up, “Alright. Let’s go find her then.”

“Thanks Martel.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she pointed at the chimeras she’d been playing with, “I don’t trust you guys not to cheat while I’m gone, so I want you to know I was going to win anyways.”

She flipped over the cards she’d set on the table, revealing a royal flush. Martel and Dolcetto left the bar at the sound of their complaints.

-

Dolcetto followed Sev’s scent through the streets, quietly aware of the slowly lightening sky.

Martel had started to look worried as well, “What do you think happened?” she asked after it had been silent for a while.

“I don’t know,” Dolcetto replied, “but she wouldn’t stay out without good reason.”

They continued to follow the trail through Dublith.

“Scent’s getting stronger,” Dolcetto paused and took a couple hard sniffs, “...I smell blood.”

He and Martel looked at each other in worry before hurrying up in their search.

Despite how she looked and what she’d been through, Sev was still very much a kid. If she’d gotten hurt, there were going to be dire consequences for whatever caused it.

They turned another corner and they saw Sev. She was curled up around something, but she didn’t seem any worse for wear.

“Sev?” Dolcetto called softly.

Sev’s ears perked up and she lifted her head, “’Cetto! Martel!”

Though she’d greeted them, she didn’t get up. Dolcetto and Martel glanced at each other again before making their way over to her. Upon seeing a kid leaning on her shoulder, they both blinked in surprise.

“What uh... What’cha got there, Sev?” Martel asked.

“Walter,” she responded, “They hurt him. Help?”

They looked at the shivering kid. He didn’t look too good. Walter couldn’t have been older than six or seven, and he was covered in bruises and scrapes, not to mention that gash in his leg…

“Was sleepy,” Sev continued, “Won’t wake up.”

Martel frowned and crouched down beside her, “Sev... I don’t think-“

“We can try, can’t we?” Dolcetto interrupted, “I mean... he’s still breathing...”

The snake chimera gave him a Look, but at the sight of Sev’s hopeful gaze, she sighed and relented.

“Alright, we can try,” she gave a serious look to both Sev and Dolcetto, “but understand that there might not be anything we can do, okay?”

Sev whimpered, but nodded and carefully uncurled herself from around Walter.

Dolcetto stooped down to pick up the kid, and then the four of them made their way back to the bar.

[starswornoaths]

A Gift of Thanks and Mystery

So this is an incredibly late story that was inspired by this post (and this is the english translated one, special shoutout to @haillenarte for the translation!) that popped into my head and I only just managed to haul out of the draft it’s been stuck in since March. Bleh.

Summary: Serella receives a gift. She only wishes she knew who to thank for it.

or:

Someone forcibly take this pairing from my hands I am clearly doing n o t h i n g with it.

“How do you deal with this cold all the time?” Uthengentle whined as he bundled his cloak tighter around himself.

“You’re here almost as much as I am,” Serella said distractedly as she examined what was left of a trunk that had fallen in the middle of the Highlands. “I do the same thing you do: I dress warmly.” “But not as warmly as I do!” Uthengentle pressed, gesturing at his sister’s side. “I’m sitting here bundled head to toe, and you’re just wearing a godsdamned sweater.” “I guess I just don’t feel it.” She answered airily before swinging her hatchet and hacking off a log of lumber to use. “How much more of this do you think you’ll need?” “I dunno, let me look over the haul.” He grumbled, shuffling over to the bundle of wood currently gathered atop a blanket to keep it as dry as possible. “You know, I worry for you.” Her brother spoke up, his arms crossed as he hunched in on himself to protect against the harsh, blustering winds of the Highlands. “Seriously, you don’t even wear a hat. Half the time you don’t cover your chest well enough from the cold.” He tutted at the pointed at her. “You’re like to catch your death one of these days.” “I helped slay Nidhogg,” she protested, pausing in tying off her newly gathered lumber to wave a hand dismissively. “A little cold won’t kill me.” “Oh come on, Ellie,” Uthengentle stomped his boot to emphasize his exasperation. “At least let me buy you a scarf or summat!” “Why?” “Because Twelve know you have enough neck that needs covering while you’re out ‘ere!” He stuck his tongue out. “My neck isn’t that long—“ She began to protest with a glower when she faintly picked up a squeaky voice in the distance. “Wait—did you hear that?” Uthengentle quieted, tilting his head and straining his hearing to try and pick up anything other than the whistling of the gusts of wind. Eventually, the voice grew loud enough he could pick up on it. “Serella Arcbane?” The squeaky voice called with sudden clarity. The Arcbane siblings jumped in alarm as a moogle seemingly popped out of the blizzard to float beside them, his already white fur nearly blending in with the snow around him.   “That would be me.” Serella said once she’d recovered from the start. “Oh, thank goodness I found you, kupo!” The moogle sighed in obvious relief, already rummaging in his overstuffed mail bag. “When you’re not out on delivery runs, you’re almost impossible to track down, kupo!” “You deliver mail?” Uthengentle asked Serella with a raised brow. “On occasion.” She answered cooly. “In my spare time.” “What spare time?!” He asked, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. “You have a package for me?” Serella asked the moogle, ignoring her brother’s question — and subsequent indignant sputtering. “Here you are!” He exclaimed, producing a fairly wide but slim box and handing it to her. “Thank you,” She said, eyeing the parcel. “Who is this from?” Truly, nothing stood out about the box—a perfectly normal, slim square box, the kind one might expect from a fancy clothing shop, if she had to guess at what it looked like under the brown parcel wrapping and twine—and that piqued her curiosity, for she was not expecting any mail at all. “Ah, I’m afraid the sender requested to remain anonymous, ma’am!” The moogle said. “I’d tell you anyway, but he tipped me in good wine.” “Ever the reliably loyal alcoholic.” Serella grumbled before handing him a sum of gil as a tip. “Here, a tip from me as well for coming all the way out here.” “My thanks, kupo!” The moogle gave a salute before disappearing. That, of course, left the Arcbane siblings to stare in curiosity at the mysterious parcel in Serella’s hands.

“Well, then…” Uthengentle spoke up in the silence. “That was unexpected.”

“…I worry it’s an explosive.” Serella admitted, staring down at the suspiciously nondescript package.

“I mean, you do have enough enemies.” Her brother noted, plucking the package from her hands and giving it a careful sniff. “Hmm...don’t smell any explosive powder...”

She watched, horrified, as he brought it to his ear and tilted it slowly.

“What are you doing?!” She exclaimed, hands outstretched to try and stop him.

“Seeing if it’s a bomb, idiot.” He said flatly, looking at her like she was the fool while he continued to lightly shake the box. After a moment he nodded to himself and handed it back to her. “I don’t think it is, though—too light for explosives, and all I’m hearing in there is something soft.” He frowned. “Fabric, maybe. Or paper of some kind.”

“How reassuring.” She sighed, exasperated. “For we would otherwise be dead.”

“Risk and reward, sister mine.” He answered airily with a broad grin. “Risk and reward.”

“A yes.” She said, rolling her eyes thoroughly. “The motto of fools.”

He stuck his tongue out but did not retort. She took a moment to examine the package herself, turning it over in her hands to try and see if there were any markings or telltale signs that she could recognize but finding nothing.

“So,” Uthengentle drawled after another moment, leaning closer to his sister with an expectant look.

“What?” She asked, tearing her gaze from inspecting the package to look at him. When he continued to stare at her expectantly she blanched. “No. I’m not opening it here.”

“To Foundation, then!” Her brother exclaimed, already strolling over to his chocobo.

“Why are you so excited?” Serella asked even as she followed him toward her own feathered friend. “And didn’t you need this shit for something?”

“Ehh, you got plenty.” He said with a dismissive hand wave as he swiftly mounted his bird. “And if I need more, we can come back when we won’t be stuck in a blizzard.” He pointed to her mysterious parcel. “As for why I’m excited: we have a mystery! A puzzle I get to crack! I want to know what it is!”

“I see.” Serella pursed her lips but did not argue as she tied her bundles of gathered wood and materials to the back of her saddle. Pulling her travelling cloak out from her pack and draping it over herself, she walked over to the front of her faithful friend. “Hey there, Ullr.” She greeted her bird, giving him scritches just under his chin. “How’s about we get you back in the stables with some nice fresh hay, alright?”

Ullr let out a happy ‘wark!’ and fluffed out his feathers in eager anticipation for his rest. With an affectionate pat to his side, she mounted her faithful companion and followed her brother back home.

By the time they made it past the Arc of the Worthy and into the city proper to stable their chocobos, they felt the cold and the wet seep into their boots, their cloaks, and made haste for the Forgotten Knight.

“Right then,” Uthengentle said, his eyes gleaming with eager anticipation. “Now are you gonna open it?”

“Gods, it’s like we’re kids at Starlight all over again.” Serella grumbled, shooting him a mildly irritable look that had no true venom behind it. “I’m liable to just open it when I’m in a room by myself and never tell you what it is.”

“Rude.” Uthengentle grumbled into his mug of spiced wine but did not press her further for fear of her doing exactly that.

After tossing him one last half annoyed glance, she tugged at the twine holding the brown parcel paper together, and gasped quietly at the warm brown box hidden within.

It was a richly dyed wooden box with intricate gold detailing painted along every side, the kind typically associated with a boutique or a higher end—and more expensive—type of store. Tied with a golden ribbon to keep it shut, there was also a card tucked within the ribbon, with her name written in delicate, swooping cursive.

Uthengentle whistled low, impressed.

“What’s the card say?” He asked as she slid it out from under the ribbon.

“It says,” Serella trailed off as she turned the small note over. “’From the bottom of my heart, thank you.’” He watched her eyes scan further down the card. “And it’s signed—“

She paused, her cheeks instantly coloring.

“Wasn’t it anonymous?” Uthengentle asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Still is,” Serella replied, clearing her throat. “But it’s signed, ‘Someone who Loves You,’ so—“

“So probably wouldn’t have been a bomb, then.”

“With some of my friends, I’d still not rule it out.” Serella said airily to try and cover her flustering.

“You think a friend writes that they’re someone that loves you?”

“I would, were I giving a friend a gift in secret.” Serella said simply, shrugging. “I love all kinds of people, Uthen. Love isn’t just romantic.”

“True, true,” He conceded. “Well, go on, then.” He said, gesturing toward the box. “Open it!”

She did so, setting the lid down and looking at the beige tissue paper that padded the box with open curiosity. She lightly pushed it away, her fingers brushing against the softest fabric she had ever felt. Pleased with what her fingers had found, she carefully pulled at the fabric to reveal it.

It was a scarf, she realized with a start. Deep blue and warm and lovely, with an intricate silver pin to hold it in place, where she to wear it.

“Oh…” She cooed softly, her fingers carefully tracing over the pin, the fabric, her gaze transfixed.

“Ah,” Uthengentle said with a knowing grin. “So do you know who it’s from now?”

“I know who I hope it’s from.” Serella glared at him from through her lashes. “But I make no assumptions—“

“It was probably Aymeric—“

“You—you don’t know that!” She retorted, her face aflame. “What evidence do you even have?!” When he opened his mouth she held up a finger. “And no, the scarf being blue is not good enough—not everything that’s blue has got to do with him!”

Uthengentle closed his mouth, but looked no less smug as he grinned at her.

“It’s clearly from a ritzy place.” Uthengentle said conversationally, leaning his head into his hand. “And whoever bought it has good taste—that fleece is pricier than most things I’ve made.”

“You could have bought it, for all I know.” Serella said, her glare never wavering. “You were just ranting to me about how I needed to wear a scarf, if nothing else—“

“Flattered as I am that you would think I’d pick out something so nice,” he sighed and gestured toward the gift with his mug. “I couldn’t even afford to look at that in a store window right now.”

“…You’re broke from buying crafting materials again, aren’t you.” It was not a question.

“Dead broke.” Uthengentle confirmed with a nod.

“I was wondering why you’d asked me for logs and branches so suddenly.” Serella mused, rolling her eyes even as she carefully laid out the scarf to better look at.

“Yeah” he trailed off, looking up at her “…you’re paying for the drinks, aye?”

“I presumed as much.” Serella sighed, defeated.

“Oh thank the gods.” Uthengentle let out the air in his lungs in a relieved whoosh that made the candle on the table flicker— and promptly ordered a second mug.

She shook her head, even as she smiled down at her gift and picked it up again, carefully draping it over her neck. It was a large scarf, long enough that she could double it around her neck and still leave it comfortable and loose.

“Oh, now you want to wear a scarf?” Uthengentle grumbled, taking another drink of his wine.

“Seems a waste not to.” She noted as she settled her cloak upon her shoulders, her new scarf peeking out from under it. “It was a thoughtful gift.”

He couldn’t rightly argue the point—and really, he was just glad she was wearing something to cover her neck in this cold—so he simply drained his mug again and followed her to return their mugs and pay their tab.

“We aren’t hunkering down for the night?” Uthengentle asked curiously when she led them outside, rather than to speak to the innkeeper.

“I promised Lord Edmont we’d be back tonight.” She explained, leading them out into the courtyard and the cold. “He asked after us for dinner, and I figured you can’t turn down food.”

“You’d be right!” Uthengentle exclaimed with a wide smile. “Why I’d—“ a familiar coat of blue—and an accompanying one of silver— caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. “Well, well,” his grin turned playful. “Sers Aymeric and Lucia,” he greeted them as they walked.

“Ah,” Lucia smiled wryly. “I fear my premonition of trouble approaching was correct, Lord Commander.”

“Perhaps,” Aymeric said agreeably, a smile upon his face. “But I daresay this particular brand of trouble is welcome.”

“Well, I’d certainly hope so.” Serella said with a laugh, turning to face them as they all stopped walking in the square.

When she did, Aymeric’s gaze dropped to the scarf around her neck, and for a split second, his eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise.

“That scarf—“ Aymeric floundered for a moment before clearing his throat. “—looks new.”

Uthengentle narrowed his eyes at him.

“Oh, this?” Serella said, lightly touching the fabric. “Yeah, just got delivered to me today. Not too long ago, in fact.” She smiled. “I like it greatly.”

“It suits you.” Aymeric said, his smile turning impossibly soft.

“Well,” Serella scuffed her boot against the cobblestone, her expression almost bashful. “Blue is far more your color, if I’m being honest.”

“I daresay ‘tis a color we could share.” Aymeric chuckled.

“…Our color, then.” Serella said with a broad smile and a nod.

“I quite like that.” Aymeric said, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks.

Uthengentle made a quiet retching noise. Lucia made a faint scoff of disgust.

“We’d best be off,” Serella said, her blush only worsening as her own words sunk into her skull. “Wouldn’t want to keep you two from planning the treaty ceremony — and Lord Edmont is expecting us.”

“A good day to you both, then.” Lucia bade them farewell with a tilt of her head. Once the Arcbane siblings had waved goodbye and hurried up the stairs to the Pillars, she turned to the Lord Commander. He suddenly seemed very preoccupied with something down the steps to Foundation, as he refused to meet her stare. “You could not have signed it as anything less conspicuous?”

For his part, Aymeric stood silent for just long enough that Lucia wondered if he would even acknowledge that she’d asked, but—

“I knew not what else to sign.” He admitted quietly. “She...deserves to know that she is,” Lucia saw the flush on his cheeks darken before he turned his head away. “That she is loved.”

“...Does she not also deserve to know whom she is loved by?” Lucia asked.

“She is loved by many.” Aymeric answered immediately. “And in almost as many ways.” He spared a sidelong glance at his First Commander. “Is it truly so awful that she be reminded of all of it?”

“I suppose not.” Lucia conceded. “Still, is it truly so awful that she know she is loved by you?”

“...Perhaps not.” He said haltingly. “...And...perhaps she will. Soon.”

Lucia was beginning to doubt that very much, but still, she hoped. For both their sakes.

And hers, really— there was only so much more of their mutual pining that her patience would tolerate before just outing them to each other. It was getting a touch ridiculous.

[gylbane-ld]

Littlefire Pt.1

The tiny golden cub snuggled into his mother's side as she got gradually colder, a desperate attempt to warm her. No breath escaped the lioness's maw or snout and likewise, no air slithered its way in. The tiny cub tried to make himself warmer to, in turn, make the lioness warmer. It was instinct, the cub did not know that the mother was gone, gone at the moment of his birth. Her frail frame could not stand the birth of a cub, and the combination of pregnancy and difficult labor proved fatal. The cub began to knead at his deceased mother's snow white belly trying to feed himself, once again a victim to instinct. A grumble erupted from behind the cub as a hulking shadow covered him. A pair of gargantuan jaws held fast to his nape and whisked him away, the cub getting a final glance at his late mother as he hung in the air, supported only by teeth.

The forlorn cub was set down, or rather dropped, onto a stone shadowed by a giant. The newborn cub knew not of his location or of who was standing before him, only that he was carried away from the lioness who brought him into the world as she left it. He mewed in the general direction of his mother in an attempt to call her to his aid even though she would never come. His mews were interrupted by the male's harsh, gravelly voice, "Stop it, will you," he grumbled in irritation. The cub ended his crying immediately and gazed up at the towering figure before him. "You'll be known as... oh I don't know, I'll let you know later," the giant sighed as he picked the nameless cub up in his teeth and set him down on the ground before the main den. "Do what you want, I don't really care," the giant grumbled in the cub's general direction as he sauntered to a food pile nearby and began stuffing his face with the carsasses strewn about a spot marked with the blood of past meals. The nameless cub shuffled into one of the dens and lay next to a random lioness who shoved him away from her side as he slept.

The cub remained nameless as he grew up, his father too lazy to even name him. He was addressed as "Cub" even into his adolescenthood and ranked lower than most in the pride. His life in the pride was not the best, he ate just the bits that the hyenas wouldn't even go for and had slews of curses tossed at him daily. To the others, he was just fuzzy toy and not even the kindest lioness in the pride cared about him. There were numerous times where he had the urge to run about and tell everyone off, saving most of the curses learned from his pride-mates for his lazy, imbecilic father. But those were just fantasies, the cub knew that that would lead to immediate removal from the pride, or worse -- the cub's murder. For now, he just drifted in his simple fantasies of displaying his hatred of his father in front of the entire pride.

It was at the end of the dry season when the fateful day had arrived. The cub, now about one year and six months, had begun to grow the beginnings of a bright golden mane. The beginnings of the mane had marked the date of the lazy king expelling him from the pride. The cub sat under a large baobab tree as the lazy king strode over to him. The cub thought nothing of the king's arrival, it was usually just to call him over to some event or to eat the rotted leftovers. He paid no attention as the royal strode over, and in his absence of attention, the nameless adolescent did not notice the rather dominant position that his father had assumed, puffing out his chest and fluffing out his course brown mane. The normally lackadaisical lion begun to growl and snarl at the young adolescent, grasping the cub's attention as the king's aggressive noises got louder. It was his chance, the young one realized, to do what he had thought of doing for months. Before the cub could do or say anything, however, the dominant king pounced to him, leaving plenty of scars in his wake. The cub did land a few hits, mainly on the king's belly and face before fleeing the confrontation.

He walked away, limping now from the scratches on his legs and all over his body. "What a rude lion," he muttered under his breath, though there was no true reason to, since there was no one but a few meerkats around. "He smelled like hyena anyway," he grumbled, angry at the one who had chased him, "Ha, and looked like a warthog. Not to mention that he was as lazy and fat as an obese hippo." He began to snicker to himself, sometimes interrupted by winces forced on by his injuries. "Maybe leaving wasn't so bad after all! At least I'm away from that warthog-looking, overweight, hyena bum." He continued to insult the abusive lion until he paused to rest and clean his wounds beside a glimmering waterhole in the waking dusk.

The lonely adolescent was awoken by an odd yet incredibly painful feeling of beaks poking at his injuries and from squawks erupting from the air around him. He opened one eye that revealed the ruffled feathers of a Gryphon's Vulture standing tall in front of him with wings open wide. He was frightened, as any inexperienced young lion would be, and he had no clue how to react. His instincts told him to growl at the birds, and when he did, the large birds startled and hopped back. He stood on his paws before stretching out, wincing while he did so, thinking about why the vultures were trying to feast on him. "I didn't look dead did I," he thought, puzzled as the carrion-eaters flew to find another meal.

The adolescent, weighed down by his ever-increasing feeling of loneliness, trudged on across the dry plains. He ignored the chuckles of the hyenas and the yells of the baboons as his stomach growled almost as loud as he himself could growl. He was never taught how to survive or hunt, since his mother never got a chance to before she fell victim to the dangers of cubbirth. He had attempted to catch a meerkat, but in his clumsy pouncing and stomping, he not only scared away the meerkat but crushed a little jerboa under his back paw. He turned around to see what he had killed, hoping it was something worthwhile, but he was disappointed to see a tiny mouse-like creature crushed onto the cracked ground. "Food is food," he sighed, laying down beside the mangled creature and swallowing it in a single bite. It cured his hunger for a second, but soon enough, his panging hunger returned. "I was better off eating scraps," he grumbled as he walked on, too weak to chase the impala herd that grazed nearby. He could feel his stomach twisting from starvation and the little fat reserves that he had stored up melting and being consumed at a rapid pace. It was this horrible hunger that caused him to black out and fall over onto his side in a similar position that his mother was in when she left the world.

He was awoken from his dormant state at dawn. It wasn't the gathering dew or the or the herds of bleating wildebeest, it was instead the simple nudge of a snout and the smell of another lion, specifically, a lioness. He raised his weary head to look around, only to spot a golden brown tail slowly disappearing through the elephant grass. upon spotting the tail, the starving adolescent let out a squeak of submission and greeting, letting the foreign lioness know that he was still alive, but he was friendly. He heard an answer back, muffled by the tall grass, and saw a head peek through the pale wall. It matched the color of the tail he had seen a minute ago and there glowed mix-matched eyes, one blue and the other a deep brown. "Glad to see you're not dead," the mysterious lioness said before sauntering through the grass and into the clearing, where the young male could see that it was only her head and her tail that were the mix of gold and brown, while the rest of her pelt shimmered a shade of gold, not unlike the the surrounding grasses. "I hope not," the young male sighed before realizing that she was not only the first lion he had seen since he was a year and a half, but that this was the first time that he had said anything to, well, anyone, since he was chased away. "Well," the lioness said, strolling over to him as he continued to stay where he was. She placed a single paw on the place where his heart reside and felt the quick throbbing of it, spurred on by the meeting of the foreign lioness. "You feel alive to me, little one," the odd female claimed, taking her paw off of his heart and stepping back a pace. "D'you have a name, little one," the lioness inquired, tilting her head and staring at him.

She had eyes that told the world to fuck off. She herself was a rebel searching for a cause, and the adolescent had the fleeting thought that maybe he could be her cause.

"N-no, but, do you," the male stammered nervously, standing up and shaking off the dust.

"How odd. Most lions have one by the time they're your age. But nonetheless, little one, mine's Owlsun."

"Owlsun, got it," the young male said as he approached her tentatively with a submissive form and sniffed the side of her face, letting her smell linger in his head. He stepped back, holding his head up rigid, allowing her to sniff his face and sprouting mane. She flicked her tail in acceptance and glanced into the grass, sniffing the air around them. The adolescent sniffed the air as well and the aroma he picked up enticed his stomach into producing a rumbling growl as well as a pang of hunger pains. He let out a loud wince as he hunched his back from the pain. "Don't hurt yourself, now," Owlsun chuckled as she dragged out an impala from the grasses. The smell of fresh blood coaxed yet another grumble from the adolescent's stomach and he licked his chops. She drug the impala in front of him and began to pick at it. The adolescent stood hesitant, not sure if he should eat or not. "Go on, little one," Owlsun said as she lifted her head up, blood dripping from her chin. The adolescent nodded and began to nibble at the fleshy side. Once he broke through the skin and the first gushes of crimson blood seeped onto his tongue, he began tearing his portion apart in a mad frenzy. By the time he had exhausted himself, his muzzle and much of his face was soaked in the impala's blood and the majority of the animal was unrecognizable as the impala it once was. Owlsun chuckled and stepped back. "You can finish 'im," she said nonchalantly, flopping down in front of the adolescent and the carcass. Her simple mis-enunciation marked the beginning of their friendship. As their friendship would flourish, she would allow her accent to reveal itself more.

They had known each other for about five months before Owlsun had taken him on his first hunting session. She accepted him as her own son, even though what the adolescent originally had in mind was much more romantic. The pair now crouched in the thick elephant grass, obscured from the view of the oryx herd in their sights. Owlsun whispered her plan to the younger lion, careful to not disturb the herd. "I'll attack one of the cows, injuring her and slowing 'er down, yer job is to run after me and once I've got 'er and let 'er go, then you can attack. Kapeesh?" He nodded, slightly confused, holding his head low and twitching his tail.

Unexpectedly, the golden beauty burst out of the bush with fury and stampeded towards the oryx. The herd swerved and galloped in a feverish attempt to flee the huntress, but she followed with expert grace and agility, singling out a quick, meaty cow. She caught up to her prey in no time, ending up less than a foot away from her hooves. The dust kicked up in thick clouds but seemed to not pester the lioness's eyes or nose as she kept her pursuit. With a loud growl and a ferocious push from her hind legs, Owlsun was soon off the ground and in the air. The young adult watched on in awe as time seemed to move in slow motion, the agile lioness seemingly suspended in mid air and the oryx cow's long legs moving in meticulous rhythm. All at once, time resumed its normal speed and Owlsun was hanging off the back of her prey, digging her sharp claws into the rough hide in an attempt to stay on. Quickly formulating her plan, she thrusted her leg forward in the direction of the back of the oryx's knee, fracturing it with her brute force. The now injured cow kicked out toward the lioness clinging to her back, but the powerful hoof failed to connect with the lioness's flesh. Realizing her injury, the oryx began to limp slightly, slowing her down some. Owlsun unlatched, dismounting from her prey's back. Yet another jumble of dust rose as the lioness landed. As her feet hit the ground, she roared for the younger lion to start his practice.

He faltered slightly before sprinting after the injured oryx, trying his best to match the grace of his friend. He had a difficult time focusing on a strategy and the logistics of the situation, often losing track of his prey for a split-second. It was a game of cat and mouse - or rather, cat and oryx - for a while before his jumble of ideas and possibilities clicked and began to work together to form coherent thoughts and strategies for taking down his prey. In a newfound fury, the small lion caught up with the oryx before cutting off her path. He now found himself face-to-face with the cow, who assumed a defensive position, head low in some sort of aggressive bow and dagger-like horns glowing in the african noon. She snorted, challenging the young lion in a fight for her life before backing. In a quick dash, she began to charge, body tucked lower to the ground, bracing for a crash. Her opponent skirted his way around her just before she hit him. He turned fast like a bullfighter just as the cow turned herself around, gearing up for another charge. As she galloped in his direction, the young male shuffled out of her reach once again and batted her front leg as she passed him. She tumbled over herself, somersaulting onto her back. She flailed her legs in the air, attempting to turn over once again. She was so close to achieving her feat before her soon-to-be killer rushed at her throat, latching onto it and crushing her windpipe. The prey kicked harder in the struggle, aiming to force the assailant off of her. Her power lessened as her lungs ran out of air and she ran out of energy, her last noise being a soft bellow, forced out by the escaping air. Her black eyes, once full of diligence and vitality, fogged in her demise as her legs slacked and she lived no more.

Owlsun sauntered over to her companion, who was still clutching the throat of his prey. "Good, little one, but you can let 'er go now. She's dead,' she said, head held high in pride. The younger lion obeyed, letting the oryx's head thud on the ground. He mimicked Owlsun's stance and proudly held his head high, blood splattered on his muzzle. The pair panted, both exhausted from the hard chase, before Owlsun spoke again. "We should probably drag this o'er to the bush before the hyenas come a-runnin'," she stated before gripping one of the horns in her teeth and motioning for the young lion to do the same. He did as told and together, they dragged the carcass into obscurity, hiding it from scavengers. Prior to feasting, the two lions scouted the area for bandits, chasing away a trio of jackals during the search. The pair began to eat the hard-earned carcass before Owlsun began to speak. "Ya' know, you have the skills of a true king," she proclaimed, smiling, "And I think it's high time you get a name."

The younger lion paused in the midst of his gluttonous feast, puzzled by his companion's announcement. "Hmm?" he grunted, swallowing the chunk of meat in his jaws and tilting his head.

"You heard me, you're gettin' a name, little one," she said, sitting down on her haunches. "I think the name 'Littlefire' fits, don't you" she suggested.

"Uh, yeah," he stammered, shocked at how suddenly this had all come about. "But what does it mean?"

"Oh, it's the name of an old warrior, Littlefire the Great."

"Really," he asked with eyes wide, bewildered despite the sliver of sarcasm in her voice.

"No, I just sorta made it up," Owlsun laughed, standing up. She circled around Littlefire, inspecting him. "Yep, ya definitely look like a Littlefire to me," she said again, turning toward the carcass to feast on it again. LIttlefire rolled his eyes and joined Owlsun in finishing the meal.

"Two days. Two entire days," Littlefire growled to himself as he paced in the clearing, flicking his tail and ears nervously. Owlsun had left a couple of days ago to go bring home a buffalo; Littlefire had offered to help, but she, being the overconfident lioness she was, insisted that it was her job to take down this dangerous prey. "I should have snuck out behind her, dammit," he growled again before picking up a stick and easily snapping it in two with his jaws in fury. He roared, calling out to her, hoping she was nearby. His ears were perked up, his head high, listening, just listening for one faint answer. But, nothing. Not even the distinct cackles of the hyenas were heard, only the distant bellowing of wildebeest and the screeching yells of birds. Littlefire sighed and began to plod on the trail that he and Owlsun had carved out with their paws.

Littlefire arrived on the scene of the crime after fifteen minutes of following the hunting trail. He had wandered into a break in the bushes when he found her. The golden body lay on its side, its chest rising and falling with every painful breath it took. Excitedly, Littlefire trotted over, blissfully unaware of the excruciating pain that racked Owlsun's body and the deep gash that impurified her golden fur. The blood and the injury came into view as Littlefire came closer, and the sheer sight of it caused him to stop dead in his tracks and gasp. Owlsun tensed up a little before lifting up her head to look at the intruder. She sighed upon realizing who he was and dropped her head back down on the dust. "O-Owlsun... w-what h-happened," Littlefire stammered, fighting back tears. "Dumb ass buffalo," she hissed, holding back snarls of pain, "Got me wit his horns. Gored me right in the side." She stared back at him, her blue and green eyes, once filled with youth and vitality, now dull and in pain. Littlefire knew he couldn't leave her alone, alone here to die without anyone comforting her. He slept beside her, fed her what little she'd eat, bring her water, and try to sooth her gash. Flies gathered around the wound, pestering it and making it become infected. He noticed that she didn't talk much anymore, let alone laugh. The most she'd talked during her death process was on her last day.

"Maybe I screwed up," Owlsun admitted, leaving a slightly bewildered look on Littlefire's face, "I shouldn't have gone after that buffalo alone, ya' know, and declined on your offer to help." Littlefire solemnly smiled at her sudden change of thought, but his face fell once again as she winced, "Owl, are you okay?" "Okay?" Owlsun scoffed as she lay bleeding, "I'm always okay." As her attempt to be reassuring ended, she winced once more, the corners of her mouth moving to sculpt a sort of feline smile. With those final words and a final smile, her heart ceased to move. Her jaws lay slightly open with her final breath still lingering in the air surrounding the two lions and the smile still etched upon her brownish face. Littlefire shed a single tear, alone once again. Written by InsertCleverNameHere on Lioden

[ririthereader]

Stained Glass

Morgan's fingers are glass. Her palms are most definitely flesh and bone, but sometimes, where the skin meets glass hurts – but only when it’s cold. Her fingers are perfectly sculpted; you can only tell that they're glass when she holds them up to the light. They are fragile though. She can't do hard work with them. So she works from home, organizes websites and fixes bugs in codes. She doesn’t type with her fingers, the glass seam pulls at the skin. She uses a speech recognition software that allows her to type with her voice. It's a stable system.

Sometimes though, Morgan likes to put her fingers up to the light, and watch it refract and separate. She likes to see what her hands can make, even if she can't do it all the time. Jamie, her cockatiel, scratches at the resulting rainbows.

She has glass decals and statues on her balcony, decorating the plants. When the light filters just right, her sitting room looks like a kaleidoscope. It even reaches the kitchen during the summer. It reflects onto her stove, and she likes to pretend she cooks rainbows with the fingers that she won’t let make anything else.

It started with her fingernails. When she was six, her mother had gotten into an accident, drove through her green light too early and gotten smashed by someone speeding. Morgan’s mother and the offending car melded together, killing them both. Morgan's booster seat had been flung sideways, and her head hit the window. There's a faint scar in her hairline where the glass cracked.

Afterward she learned from her aunt Sofia that the glass spread every time she got an inch closer to death. It runs in the family, skipping some people she said. Morgan’s fingers have been glass for years now. She thought she could feel with them, almost like phantom fingers, almost normal, but even so it was a reminder of her physical relationship with death.

Sofia said that her great-grandmother used to cry glass tears. They're strung around Morgan's neck. Morgan does not cry glass tears, but she wished she did. She could make and sell charms. She cries enough for that.

Earlier, she cried because Jamie slept on her shoulder and she heard him snore. It sounded like a pot whistling. Now he sits on her knee; she's curled up on the couch talking to Sofia, who's telling her how to make ceviche. Morgan always makes it too sour. The fish would fall apart in the citrus juice. She marinates it for too long, but it’s a little scary eating raw fish. She lets herself believe that the citrus will kill 99.9% of the bacteria.

Jamie grinds his beak contentedly, feathers recently preened and fluffed. Morgan never liked the sound of grinding teeth, or beaks. She felt the sound behind her eyes and in the joints of her neck. But she didn't stop Jamie, since it was a positive expression for birds.

Sofia's voice picks up to yell at the dogs that were running over the old couch. The springs creak and the couch dips very easily. Morgan could hear them barking through the phone. Jamie could too and gives her phone a stink eye. He flies across the room to his cage and patters inside. He chirps softly, calling for food. Morgan leaves her mother to talk to the dogs on the couch and replenishes Jamie's food trough.

"Mamá is pretty mad at the dogs. I'm glad you're not a hassle." Morgan ruffles his neck feathers briefly and goes back to her phone. Sofia stopped screaming by then.

"Mamá, I got the instructions, but it would be nice for you to show me how. Do you want to come for dinner?" Her apartment is lonely.

"Sure, I'll get your brother to watch the dogs. He's studying for exams anyway. I'm on my way. Thaw some fish."

It would take at least forty-five minutes for the commute. Morgan opens her freezer to get some fish ready for her whirlwind aunt. She looks at the clock on her oven. It’s four in the afternoon, and the fish needs about three hours to marinate, so they would be finished cooking and chatting by eight. Sofia would take most of it home, to feed the rest. Morgan drops some frozen tilapia in a bowl of room temperature water and goes to organize some paperwork before Sofia comes.

Her desk is a mess of invoices and website templates. Her headset rests on her 24 inch monitor and the wires hang, tangled. Morgan picks at the knot, her fingers clinking together and sending pleasant shivers down her spine. She ties up the wire with a stray hairband and leaves it on her monitor. Morgan shuffles her papers into a folder and turns her monitor off. Sofia doesn’t need to see the mess of CS code on the screen.

Jamie flies from his cage to Morgan’s head. He stays as she cleans up a stray shoe from under the couch, some bowls, and instant noodles. But he escapes to his cage and shuts the door when she pulls the mini vacuum out of the closet. Morgan cleans up the bird seed in efficient strokes, trying to minimize the time she needs to have the vacuum on.

Her hands are passing over the bite marks that Jamie has given the vacuum cord when Sofia knocks on the door. Morgan shoves the vacuum in the closet without finishing coiling the cord and answers the door. Sofia will talk first. She always does.

“Morgan, hello! It’s been too long.” She pulls Morgan down for a hug. Morgan buries her face in Sofia’s neck, an earring presses against her brow bone.

“Three weeks is hardly a long time Mamá.”

She pulls back and strokes Morgan’s hair, tucks it behind her ear. She cut it recently and donated 14 inches. “Three weeks is too long for me. Did you cut the fish?”

Morgan shakes her head. “It’s still thawing.”

Sofia clapped her hands. “Then let’s get to work.”

 Sofia cut the fish into cubes, ignoring the slight ice in the center, while Morgan mixed citrus juices. That would be her only job for the night, since Sofia would talk her ears off. The café was going well, the college students looked dead, Old Man Joe was still a nuisance, Eduardo was failing physics, and the dogs missed Morgan. Jamie emerges from his cage and flies to the dinner table. It’s a small one, big enough for four. His claws tap on the table, dancing for some food. Morgan smiles and breaks some bread for him.

Sofia digs around Morgan’s pantry and brings out an onion. “So Morgan, when was the last time you left the apartment?”

Morgan breaks off another piece of bread for Jamie, even though he hadn’t finished he first bit. “I got groceries yesterday.”

She peels the onion skin back. “I meant for leisure.”

Morgan rips some more bread for Jamie. “I got lunch last week.”

Sofia’s mouth forms a line, onion in one hand, knife in the other. “That was a luncheon with a client. It doesn’t count.” Another piece of bread falls to the table. “When was the last time you saw someone that doesn’t pay you?”

Jamie looks up at Morgan with his head cocked. He ruffles his feathers and patters to her hands. “It’s been a while. I can’t remember.”

Sofia cuts through the onion viciously, angry. Jamie gets scared and flaps his wings. They haven’t been trimmed since the last time a stranger visited. He flies up, up, up, brushes the ceiling and lands on the fridge. Sofia is still cutting the onion.

“Can you put him in his cage? We’re cooking.”

Morgan looks from Jamie to Sofia. Her eyes water. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. Her eyes burn. Sofia sniffs. Jamie sneezes.

“Mamá, can you stop cutting for a moment? The onion is irritating Jamie.” Morgan’s throat is clear. She is not crying.

Sofia put down the knife and pulls a tissue from her pocket. “How will you get him down?”

Morgan smiles and onion-induced tears fall. She sniffs. Sofia blows her nose. Morgan calls Jamie, clicking her tongue softly. He scratches at the fridge door.

“Jamie, come here.” She lifts her hand up, fingers forming a perch. He whistles at her but stays put. “It’s not the time to play games. Come here, Jamie.” He dances a bit.

“That’ll never work, just grab him,” Sofia says. It’s well-meaning, but it would hurt Jamie. She turns and continues cutting the onion.

Morgan is irritated, but says nothing. She tries calling Jamie again, putting her hand at the top of the fridge. He pecks at her fingers, so she moves them away. This startles him; he flaps, and falls. Jamie swoops and passes over the onion, aiming frighteningly close to the knife.

“Mamá, watch out!”

Sofia reaches toward him and he shrieks. Morgan can see what’s going to happen, but she’s already crossed her small kitchen, her hand already closing around the knife. The knife will slip and slice Sofia’s arm. Jamie will lose feathers and hide behind her mug tree. Morgan will bruise her forehead on Sofia’s forehead. Terrible, but repairable.

Morgan did not anticipate breaking three of her fingers.

The knife sliced Sofia’s arm, onion juice forcing a violent reaction, slamming the knife and Morgan’s hand into the counter. Brown glass falls from her hand in chunks. It doesn’t hurt. Morgan feels like it should hurt. Sofia grabs her sliced arm and applies pressure. Jamie chirps loudly.

The tears fall.

Morgan stands there, sobbing, one hand on the counter, the other muffling her mouth and hiding the sliding mucus, while Sofia patches herself up. Runs cold water on her injury, wraps it in gauze that Morgan keeps in the bathroom. Jamie trills softly, staring at Morgan’s face. Sofia comes back from the bathroom and picks up the pieces of onion that flew, throwing the bloody ones away. The knife clatters in the sink. The onions are now in a bowl. Morgan is still crying and Sofia is picking up the pieces of finger. The blood is spreading, the shards in a neat pile. They glitter fantastically.  

Sofia pulls another tissue from her pocket and hands it to Morgan, who takes it and blows her nose.

“I’m sorry, Mamá,” her voice breaks, “I didn’t mean to –”

“Shh,” Sofia rubs her back. “It’s not your fault.”

Morgan is talking through hiccups, the speech is almost unrecognizable. Sofia gets her a glass of water. She gulps it down, but still hiccups.

“Breathe, and then talk.” Sofia’s hands are shaking; she’s worried, but detached. Her arm still stings. Morgan takes a few steadying breaths, but still can’t get a coherent sentence out. Her hand is still limp on the counter. She hasn’t moved it since the initial impact.

Efficiency is cold, but Sofia softens the edge by rubbing Morgan’s back. “I know this is scary, but you need to get your bird back into his cage so we can clean up the glass.”

Morgan forces out a whisper, “Terrifying,” and goes back to sobbing. Sofia holds back a sigh and pulls Morgan back to her chest. Jamie walks out from behind the mug tree and chirps. Morgan doesn’t respond so he walks toward the shards of finger. He leans as if to bite them, but Sofia waves him off. He flaps away, back to his cage and sits on top, dropping a load into his drinking water.

They stay like that for a while, until Morgan depletes her reservoirs. She sniffs and Sofia hands her another napkin, this time from the counter. Morgan blows her nose with one hand. It’s scratchy.

“Now what?” she croaks.

Sofia nudges the glass, blood shifts. “We put you back together.”

Morgan looks at the pile of glass on the counter and the jagged edges of her fingers. “How can we fix this?”

“Glue.”

“Mamá, if my fingers couldn’t handle this while whole, they wouldn’t even be able to hold Jamie’s weight if we use glue.”

Sofia turns one of the largest shards between her fingers. It decorates her with red patterns. Her other hand is clenched.

“Mamá?”

“I don’t know how to help you here. I didn’t know the first time, and I don’t know now. I’m sorry.”

Morgan looks at her shattered hand again. Her thumb is fine but her index finger is noticeably chipped. Her other three fingers are obliterated. Her pinky doesn’t even have a stub; it’s broken down to the seam. She looks into her hand, trying to see if she could find veins or flesh. It’s all brown. She can’t discern any textbook-worthy anatomy.

Sofia’s shoulders are shaking but she still speaks. “Is this why you never leave?”

Morgan puts her whole hand on Sofia’s shoulder and wiggles the other. She can see the tendons in her palm moving, the stubs responding. It looks gross, alien, so she stops.

“Morgan?”

She blinks and puts her hand down. “Yes.”

Sofia looks up at her with red eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’ve already said that.”

“I know, but I should have told you, when the glass breaks, it breaks. It’s useless to try and stop it.

Morgan takes a step back. The skin on her face pulls tight, tear tracks cracking. “What are you talking about?”

Sofia turns back to the shards. “Your mother had glass toes. They broke off because she was trying to be too careful.” She smiles, remembering. “She always wore at least three pairs of socks. ‘For padding’ she said.” Sofia gives Morgan a sad smirk. “They never matched. She would stay indoors, walk only on carpet.”

Morgan takes a step forward. “What happened?”

Sofia looks down. “One day she took off her socks, and her toes had fallen off. Just like that. They’d grown brittle from the lack of use.” Sofia looks at Morgan with earnest eyes. “Take a pottery class. Come home and work in the garden. Use your hands because once they’re gone, they’re gone.”

Morgan shakes her head, hair getting caught in her eyelashes. “If I leave the apartment, I might die. You’ll have to bury my shards. They’ll be so small you can’t tell if it’s me or a car window. ” She squeezes her arm with her good hand. She doesn’t want to be crushed to a million pieces. But it’s too late, she’s been shattered.

Sofia pats Morgan’s arm, allowing her to release the pressure. “And you might die here. You might die anywhere.”

Morgan blinks three times and shakes her head a little bit. “But Mamí –”

“Learned this after her toes fell off. Do what you want. That’s what she did.” She smiles, her eyes still watery.

Morgan looks at her fingers and turns around. Jamie peeks from around the corner and chirps. Morgan smiles, but focuses her attention to her balcony. The assortment of pots sit, organized by how much water they need. This is her garden. All she needs to do is water them and pluck out dead leaves. It’s low maintenance, but Morgan always wished to be able to get on her hands and knees in the dirt.  

She looks at her hands, broken and not broken. They’ve never tilled soil.  They’ve never molded a pot. They’ve never kneaded dough. They’ve never cooked over a large vat of stew.

She turns back to Sofia. “But how can I do these things with one and a half hands?”

Sofia says, “Your mother lived without her toes. You can function without three fingers.”

Morgan is quiet for a beat. “Did Mamí try fixing her toes?”

Sofia shakes her head. “She screamed so loud that the neighbor’s dog howled. She couldn’t even look at her toes.”

Morgan nods, contemplating. Glass can be melted, molded, or blown. She could fix her fingers. She just needed window lead. She also needed to clean Sofia’s blood off of them. She wiggled her stubs again. She didn’t know how durable that kind of repair would be.

“Maybe you should break off the jagged parts of your fingers. For safety.” Sofia was holding her injured arm.  

“I – oh.” Morgan doesn’t own an oven mitt, having never used the oven. So she wraps her hand with a towel. She looks back at Sofia, who is still holding her arm. The blood has seeped through the bandage. She blinks quickly and glances at the knife in the sink. The blood is visibly dry on  the blade.

“Mamá! How deep is your cut?”

Sofia releases her arm and wipes her hands on her pants. “It’s not bad, I’ve had worse.” Her face pulls tight, holding back a wince.

Morgan turns and grabs a plastic bag, sweeps her broken fingers into it. Blood streaks across the counter and patterns the plastic bag. She zips it tight and walked over to Jamie’s cage, clicking her tongue again, and coaxes him inside with promises of fresh spray millet.

“What are you doing?”

“We are going to get you to a hospital, and then I am going to look for a local glass warehouse.” Morgan locks the cage. Jamie climbs the door and bites he latch. She covers his cage with a blanket grabs her phone.

Sofia looks between the bag of shards and Morgan, who is putting on shoes. “You want them to fix your fingers?”

“If they can.”

“And if they can’t?”

Morgan closes her eyes and sighs.

Sofia nods. She wraps the onions in saran and leaves them in the fridge. The fish was set to marinate a while ago and was already in the fridge. She goes to clean the knife, but Morgan stops her.

“It doesn’t matter, I’ll clean that later.” She’s already holding a purse and her jacket.

Sofia looks at Morgan’s eyes. They’re clear, if a bit watery. She hugs her, tight. Morgan hugs back, her mitten on Sofia’s shoulder.

“Get green fingers.”

Morgan laughs. “We’ll see Mamá, we’ll see.”

[neakco]

Vixen & Crow Ch. 11

Ao3 First Prev Next V&C Masterlist

Where our heroes discover a lair of evil that no one knew existed. They may need a miacle.

Crow was about to head home when Gem forced him to land.

With a look of concentration Gem managed to make a glowing projection of a masked women wearing black.

“Thank the spirits it worked. I will explain but I need you back at our park now!”

“On it.” The image of what he assumed was a civilian Vixen faded away and he leapt up in the direction of their park.

When he arrived, he spotted the same masked women standing with Nathanial and pacing. “Vixen?”

“It’s me. I have a lot to explain and I fear not much time. Can you wait until I am done to ask questions?”

Crow nodded and made himself comfortable.

“I used to work as a thief for hire. I am technically retired but a young child asked me to steal something back for her. I saw it during our patrol and went back for it.” She paused in her pacing and tried to stand still. She really didn’t want Crow to know this about her. She didn’t want to taint their partnership. She shoved the thoughts aside and continued, “I need you to understand that I would never use my powers in this.”

Crow looked thoughtful but nodded.

“When I unlocked the door, I could smell the rot, I could see it. Nathanial says I shouldn’t be able to when not transformed. I could though and the scary thing is that there was no trace outside the place, not even a glimmer.”

Crow could tell Vixen was terrified, but he wasn’t sure if it was this spirit or his opinion that terrified her more. “Well transform into the Vexing Vixen I know and let’s terminate this trouble.”

She smiled, “Thank you.”

“For what?” He was actually confused by the gratitude. “You are a hero Vixen. That little girl will always remember that someone out there fought for her. The police probably couldn’t help or they ignored her.” They were running now. Crow followed Vixen closely to their destination.

“Why do you say that?”

“She would need to be desperate to find the contact information for an ex-thief. I wouldn’t even be surprised if she got it from a cop.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. It would make the most sense.” She smiled, “Thank you again Beanna Bàn.”

“Anytime you need a pick me up, just ask.” The stopped in front of the looming house. “This it?”

Vixen nodded.

“It is huge. Maybe not mansion or manor huge, but at least three floors.”

“Let us hope we don’t have to search each room individually.” Vixen pointed to the window he had made her sniff, “That is where I saw my target. It is also our entry point.”

“Not through the front door?”

“The room had a layer of dust on the floor. I want somewhere mildly safe in case we need to collect ourselves.”

Gem and Nathanial came towards them from opposite sides of the house. Gem’s feathers were fluffed out making her resemble a flying pompom and Nathanial’s tail was twitching.

Gem tried to speak but it came out as pure bird noise.

“We cannot even pick up a hint of the spirit from outside the walls.” Nathanial turned towards Vixen. “I am taking your target home for you.”

“But...”

He had lost his calm demeanor, “I don’t care, I want you two to stay in that room until I get back. If the spirit shows himself first, I need you to escape. Do I have your word?”

“It is that strong?” Crow didn’t realize he had spoken until he heard how frightened his words were. Both guardians were on edge and that worried him.

It was Vixen that answered, her tone mirrored his, “The energy isn’t leaking from the spirit’s control. Without breaking the law, we would never have suspected.”

Crow swallowed his worries and smiled. “Lucky we did. We do not want it getting stronger on us. You have my word Nat.”

“Mine too.” Vixen straightened up; she couldn’t fail her partner now.

“Thank you.” Nathanial jumped to the window and was out again with the heirloom in moments. “I will see you soon.”

Vixen held out her hand for Crow and as he grasped it, she brought them up to and through the window.

Crow gagged and turned green at the smell. “This is how spirits smell to you?”

Gem cackled quietly, “No boy,” She glowed for a moment and her voice overlapped with Nathanial’s, “This is how spirit’s smell to her.”

Crow collapsed on the ground trying very hard not to throw up as the glow faded from Gem. He stayed that way for a few minutes before finally looking at Vixen, “I don’t envy you anymore.”

“You envied me?” Vixen had her head cocked to the side in curiosity again.

“I felt useless, I am unable to do anything to help you track down spirits, it is frustrating.” He sat back against the outside wall under the window as another wave of nausea hit him.

“It isn’t too bad once you adjust. The energy actually seems like it is old and absorbed by the walls more than it is a fresh scent in the air.” She smiled, “I envied you too. You get to be the bright one while I stay stuck in the shadows.”

“What a pair we make. Want to switch costumes?”

Gem scoffed at them, “You made your colors unusual; it proves that you are both extremely suited to the roles you got.”

Crow and Vixen shared a glance before hearing Nathanial speak behind them.

“Was that actually a compliment Gem?”

“Shut it Red.”

Vixen was about to move forward when Crow stopped her. “How do you stand the smell? You never acted like it was this bad.”

“Rot was a common smell where I grew up.” A shadow dimmed her eyes for a moment, “Plus the smell doesn’t seem as bad through a fox's senses.”

Crow nodded in understanding and let Vixen take the lead.

She was trying to follow the strongest glimmers of scent in the air. It was hard when even the walls glowed in her sight.

Finally, the four entered what appeared to be an ornate dining room.

The dark lights all sprang to life to reveal a man seated at the table grinning. “Ah, Crow, Fox, welcome. Please have a seat and join me. I insist.”

Vixen and Crow cautiously made their way closer but didn’t take the offered chairs. The man was dressed in a tailored silken suit and appeared to be in his mid to late thirties.

The man gestured with his hands and two chairs smashed into the backs of their knees; forcing them to sit. “It has been a long time since I have seen the fox and crow. I don’t think I have ever seen them in quite these colors though. It is quite fetching.”

Vixen was glaring with barely contained anger, Crow was starring in disbelief. It was Gem that spoke. “You have met the previous one?”

“Ah, and you still have the guardians. Lovely to finally meet you. I normally don’t encounter your champions until after you have let them off their leashes.” The smile he gave sent shivers down the human’s spines.

Nathanial had his hackles raised, “How are you here? Hosts die.”

“For a long time I had female hosts. It is simple enough to transfer myself over to a fetus.” He grinned wider, “That isn’t what you are really asking though.” He stroked the glass in front of him with a singular finger causing it to ring eerily in the silence. “You want to know if I am the cause of all the disappearances of your past champions over the years. Usually once they hit a certain milestone in their powers.” He looked at his guests, “You two are still new, congrats are in order.”

“What?” Vixen was hyper aware and looking for either the trap or the escape.

“No one has ever discovered me this quickly before. The two of you could have been very powerful one day.”

Crow and Vixen stood up at the threat as their guardians moved to their shoulders.

The man just laughed, “I am disappointed in you guardians. The trainees have an excuse at least. You all followed my energy and never once realized.”

“Speak quickly spirit!” Gem snapped.

“This isn’t my energy at all. It belongs to the house.” As he stood up it was as if a dame had broken. The energy was a solid thing that brought all of them down under its weight.

“I think I would have enjoyed killing you two once you were stronger.” He began to approach slowly around the table knowing they were at his mercy, before he stopped short.

Vixen painfully rose to her feet, her back was straight, her eyes burned with fury. “I would like to see you try.” She grabbed Crow’s shoulder and teleported the four of them away.

The man laughed to the room, “Next time I shall close the blinds.”

Crow gasped for fresh air as I looked around the familiar surroundings of their park. He spotted Vixen lying face down next to him and rushed to roll her onto her back. “Hey? You okay?”

Nathanial nosed her a couple of times, “She appears fine for someone that just pulled off the impossible. She shouldn’t be able to teleport somewhere unless she can see it.”

Vixen coughed slightly and trembled as she sat up with Crow’s help. “I did see it. I pictured our park in my mind as clear as I could and prayed.” She started to cough a bit more.

“I for one am happy. We were almost goners.” Crow sat next to her, “How did you stand up?”

“Under all his energy there was a small speck of other. I focused on that.” She grinned, “I think he can still be defeated.”

Crow looked her over carefully, “That is well and good for the future, but are you even able to make it home tonight?”

“Yeah, I used a lot, but I think I have enough energy. I just need to sit for a few moments to catch my breath.” She smiled through another coughing fit, “I will see you next Monday for patrol?”

Crow stood, "Of course.” about to leave, he turned back. “Thank you, Vixen. You saved my life. I owe you one.”

“You owe me nothing, we’re partners.” Vixen wasn’t sure if he heard. She had another coughing fit as her transformation faded away.

“Liar.” Nathanial stood next to her, “You held onto your transformation through sheer will because you didn’t want to worry Crow. You can barely walk.”

“It’s fine. There is an old tree fort at the edge, I just need to make it there.” She stood slowly and limped towards the tall fence.

“I am not even sure you can make it that far”

Amelia laughed before wincing. “I feel like my insides are bruised. Remind me to practice the impossible before I try such a long distance again.”

Nathanial sighed, “How are you going to climb into a tree fort?”

She grinned foolishly, “I guess we will find out.”

In the end, Nathanial had to teleport her up himself.

“Wake me in the morning.” Amelia managed to utter before collapsing in exhaustion on the floor.

And so we have our big bad. This was actually the first scene I fully wrote out for this story.