#maybe it was him training with someone to strengthen his tail back

[regulus-regent]

Vegeta felt a surge of panic grip him as he realized his tail had been grabbed. It was a sensation he hadn't experienced in years, a reminder of a vulnerability he had long since buried. The pain shot through him, sending waves of discomfort radiating through his body.

The humiliation was almost unbearable, a bitter taste rising in his throat as he struggled against the grip on his tail. As he felt his body weakening, Vegeta couldn't help but feel a surge of anger and frustration. But beneath the anger was a deeper, more primal fear that clawed at him relentlessly, threatening to consume him whole. In that moment, all his Saiyan pride and arrogance melted away. His muscles tensed and strained, each twitch was a desperate attempt, a futile attempt to assert control over his weakening form.

[harriertail]

I’ve been thinking about Thunder

(dotc rewrite) The fire-red tom is the last surviving kit. His mother is still alive, but frail- the moorland cats say she is dying of a broken heart, an old superstition regarding queens and their lost kits- Wind and Hawk Swoop both agree to help her settle into the moorland camp, but with no medicine cat, she quickly deteriorates. Her son is named Thundering Storm in honour of her and a reminder of the storm of rubble that nearly killed them both. Tragically, Storm passes, but Thundering Storm is loved and treasured by Hawk Swoop and his adoptive siblings. Grey Wing is a good father- maybe too critical when he sees Clear Sky’s temper flashing in his son’s outburts, but feels Clear Sky should at least come visit his only kit. After the fire, when heat lightning crashes across the sky, a paranoid Clear Sky is adamant; Thundering Storm belongs to him. He is given to the forest and renamed Thundering Sky, now he has proven himself worthy of Clear Sky’s attention. Thundering Sky is one of them, a forest cat, he belongs with his kin. But Thundering Sky has know nothing but love: pure from Storm, gentle from Hawk Swoop and Turtle Tail, tough from Grey Wing, the love/hate banter of young siblings rushing to grow up together, and cannot fit into Clear Sky’s world. He returns to the moor with Frost. His father goes insane. Clear Sky wants boundaries, Clear Sky wants laws and order in a chaotic world, One Eye will help him achieve that. The winters in the mountains have made him paranoid. Thundering Sky is trapped between Grey Wing seeking peace with the others and Jagged Peak seeking revenge, and Clear Sky seeking order, he is caught between the forest and the moor, and his non-mountain blood. 

Even after all of it, Clear Sky’s jabs and comments, the murdering of innocent cats, working with One Eye to strengthen the group, the young tom just wants his father’s approval, truly. He wants his father’s laws to work, for the borders to bring peace, but they cannot. Not with Clear Sky determined to continue leading his group alone, and One Eye looking to take it. 

The mountain cats have brought nothing but trouble and bloodshed, and they fight to the death in the hollow with five trees until a lightning strike destroys one ancient oak and brings the dead back to life- over what? Over the rights to hunt? Over the land? Over him? Thundering Sky returns to the forest, seeing his father quiver before the spirits of their dead. They both just need someone to prop them up. He can temper Clear Sky’s rage, Clear Sky can make him into a cat he will be proud of.

He will not learn, even after One Eye is gone, Clear Sky is certain his way is right- after all, he and One Eye united the forest, the moor, and the strays. Unite or die, says the spirits, they must all come into Clear Sky’s control. You are a forest cat- you belong with me. He speaks of wanting a group, a set of rules and regulations to strictly keep the peace and honour, but he has no honour. None of the mountain cats do. They can all take their groups to the other side of the world. When the time comes, you will make it right, and Thundering Sky knows what he must do. He storms from Clear Sky’s camp in the dead of winter, he is nothing like his father, or his kin, he will make his own group. A group where the ill are tended too, the young trained, the evil punished. He sheds his name and becomes Thunder, not a forest cat, not a mountain cat, his own cat. He is not one of them. A new age is beginning, he vows, and sets to make his camp.

Clear Sky is furious, humiliated. His mother disowns him when she travels from the mountains, she curses Clear Sky so that he will never succeed in his bloodthirsty plans. He unites with Slash, regathers what is left of One Eye’s rogues and rogues from beyond- he has so much power he can gather cats from places beyond the forest, beyond the mountains. He makes one last push to unite the five groups, he bleeds into the ground by the river. Thunder gets word- Grey Wing is dying too, pushed to the edge by his brother’s actions. His last kin is gone. The new age is truly beginning. ThunderClan, RiverClan, WindClan, ShadowClan, and SkyClan- led by Sparrow Fur, will rule the forest. Five Clans around Four Trees. Thunder’s code, the warrior code, will grow and spread, and the Clans will grow. Leaders will get their nine lives, their medicine cats will learn to harness the power of the living and dead. All is well with the world. In the future, they will wonder about the fifth tree, decayed by time, and if Quiet Rain’s curse has anything to do with the monsters rolling across the SkyClan border.

[bouwrites]

Those Warm and Halcyon Days: Chapter 29

Dividing the World

Ao3.

First, Previous, Next.

Story under read-more.

“Your Crest gives you enhanced strength, Veery, does it not?”

Veery gives Professor Hanneman a flat look but doesn’t allow his gaze to linger. Watching Marianne is much more interesting. “I don’t know anything about Crests,” Veery says. “That’s your thing.”

Professor Hanneman chuckles good-naturedly. “True enough. Still, though you do not exhibit the kind of strength that one would see from someone with the Crest of Blaiddyd, nor do your attacks bear the force that might be granted by the Crest of Fraldarius, you are quite strong for someone of your size.”

Veery shrugs. “I mean… I guess? I’m stronger when I’m shifted, but I doubt a normal human could beat a regular lion my size in a match of strength, either. And like this I’m not that much stronger than anyone else.”

“Hm.” Professor Hanneman strokes his beard thoughtfully. “Then perhaps Maruice’s Crest achieves that strength through a similar means as your shifting.”

“Directly altering the muscles?” Veery asks. “Sort of a… partial shifting to give her more muscle? Maybe strengthening the bone, too?”

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be possible,” Professor Hanneman says. “We will, of course, need data. As we are this is purely speculation.”

Veery frowns. “I wouldn’t be sure it has anything to do with my Crest. All the other Crests seem to have effects for you humans that I’ve never seen in any agell. I don’t see why Marianne’s would work like mine does, even partially.”

Professor Hanneman nods. “Ordinarily, I would agree with you. But Marianne told me about the taguel, and your theory that she may be a descendant of one.”

“Technically, she’d be taguel herself,” Veery says, crossing his arms. “Though I guess it’s probably so far that if she wanted to call herself human then she can get away with it. It depends on if she can shift, really. No denying it after that, one way or another.”

“If she is indeed capable of shifting as you do, she would need Maurice’s Relic, Blutgang. The Crest Stone matching her Crest is likely a requirement. That said, given the rumors of Maruice’s Crest turning its bearers into beasts even without the Relic, it’s possible that the Crest Stone is less a requirement than a stabilizer, making the transformation safe and at will as yours is.” Professor Hanneman hums. “Either way, if the transformation is possible at all, it would imply that her Crest functions in a similar way as yours – by physically transforming the body.”

Veery purses his lips, watching as Marianne slashes once again at a training dummy with her sword. “I can’t argue with that. I don’t have the faintest idea what would happen if I tried shifting without my heart.” He sighs. “…I mean, I’d be dead without my heart, so that’s a moot point, but you get what I mean.”

“Indeed.”

As Veery and Professor Hanneman fall quiet, simply observing, Professor Byleth corrects Marianne’s form. Marianne blushes, and furrows her brow, but quickly makes the adjustments and tries again.

Veery naturally knows next to nothing about swordplay, but even so Leonie’s words to him way back when he first arrives in Garreg Mach still hold water. There are principles that carry over no matter how one fights, and though Veery can’t comment on Marianne’s grip or use of the blade, he can watch her balance, posture, and stance, among other things. (Not for the first time, he wonders how humans keep their balance without tails – though to those who grow up without them in the first place, perhaps adding a tail would throw them more off-balance.)

It shouldn’t be surprising that Marianne isn’t really that bad with a sword. Though primarily a healer, it’s not as if she doesn’t see combat fairly regularly, and she is still trained by Professor Byleth, so that her fundamentals are all solid is expected.

Of course, with her ability to heal from a distance, something Veery definitely lacks, and her affinity with animals, Professor Byleth is considering putting her on a horse, so though Veery doesn’t usually observe even the Golden Deer’s practice when he’s not participating himself (and thus doesn’t often see the shyer students like Marianne working on weapon skills) he imagines she has at least some experience with lances. Maybe even swords as well.

Actually, Veery has no idea how far Professor Byleth and Marianne are with that horse plan. That might already be in motion. Though, at this point in the year, Marianne likely won’t be on the level of the likes of Leonie or Lorenz before graduation.

“My, is that Hilda?” Professor Hanneman says suddenly, drawing Veery’s attention to the girl approaching Professor Byleth and Marianne. “Coming willingly to the training grounds? If we’ve not already had a divine intervention, I’d suspect a miracle.”

Veery snorts. “Isn’t that kind of rude to say about a student?”

“Oh perhaps,” Professor Hanneman chuckles. “But I do sincerely doubt Hilda herself would disagree.”

“…Yeah, probably.”

Veery’s ear twitches as he focuses on the conversation. Something about Fódlan’s Throat and the Almyrans beyond it. That already catches Veery’s attention. Are they going to Fódlan’s Throat? Can they see Almyra from there? Ordinarily, Veery will happily sit out of these little excursion missions – like when the class went out to Gloucester territory to do the duke’s job for him (though, that was when Veery was injured, so no one actually asked him to come anyway), but the opportunity to get a glimpse of Almyra is certainly tempting.

Then Cyril, who is cleaning some training weapons nearby, actually puts his work down to insert himself into the conversation. Veery still doesn’t know Cyril that well, but that’s more of a miracle than Hilda coming to the training ground in the first place in his mind.

“…I got captured in a battle at the Locket, and that's how I ended up here. So, I’m kind of worried that other kids who lose their folks might not be so lucky.”

Veery hears this and immediately starts making his way closer to the conversation. Eavesdropping is fine and all, but Cyril wants to go to the Throat to look out for orphaned children? Because House Goneril apparently takes them as servants and don’t treat them well?

This is the first Veery hears about such practices. Cyril uses the word servant, but Veery has a hard time believing that the children of the Goneril’s defeated enemies are anything but slaves. He doesn’t suspect it, because Hilda is overall a nice – if manipulative and occasionally frightening – girl who, for all her faults, definitely values everyone equally (there is a reason Claude likes her so much, and it’s not just for the banter), but even so…

There’s not much that Veery won’t accept humans to be capable of. Frankly, he thinks some agell are capable of forcing humans into slavery; it’s even easier to imagine the opposite.

“Can I come, too?” Veery asks, looking to Hilda.

Hilda actually raises her brow, looking at him with the same incredulity of someone looking at her offering to work. “You actually want to?” Hilda asks. “You always complain about being dragged into our missions.”

Veery shrugs. It’s the orphaned children being forced into slavery that really gives him the incentive, but Veery thinks it’s probably wise to keep that to himself directly in front of Hilda – at least until he actually sees the situation for himself. “Honestly, I’ve pretty much accepted that I’m a Deer at this point. And I want to see the Throat. Can you see Almyra from there?”

“It’s a mountain range,” Cyril says bluntly. “If you get on the other side of the mountain, then sure you can.”

“Neat.” Veery grins. “I want to see Almyra.” Despite his primary motivation, he isn’t lying. Going willingly into a battle isn’t his style, but this is a rare opportunity to see the Almyrans. Aside from Cyril and the occasional straggler in Abyss, Veery doesn’t know any Almyrans, and he knows next to nothing about them, so he’s naturally curious.

“Well that’s a relief!” Hilda coos. “The more strong allies that come with us, the safer we’ll all be.”

Fódlan’s Throat is… beautiful. Veery can’t contain his grin as he takes in the mountains.

It’s rocky – rockier than Garreg Mach, which is almost entirely lush except around Zanado – in that kind of craggy, precipitous drop kind of way, but there is still a lot of greenery growing on the spires and plateaus of rock. The terrain itself, rocky and precipitous, is like home to Veery, though he admittedly does tend to spend most of his time in Albinea on the shallower base of the mountains where the forest and food is, but the environment beyond that is like something out of a storybook.

It’s warmer this far east, though in the middle of winter it isn’t hot even for Veery, and the gnarled trees growing straight out of vertical rock are strange and alien to Veery. It’s magical how things seem to defy gravity here.

Fódlan’s Locket is almost as awesome as Garreg Mach, a proud, towering wall stretching across the mountains, and when Veery is led up to the top of the Locket, he can look out over the parapets directly into Almyra.

Which is… well, mostly brown. But no less impressive for it! Veery feels like he can see forever with how far the land stretches out before him. Mottled brown, tan, and patches of dull green make up the flatland on the other side of the mountains, the colors all blending together from the distance into a story that tells just a fraction of how vast Almyra is.

“Enjoying the view?”

Veery grins back at Claude, who approaches him on the wall. “Yes!” he exclaims eagerly. “Oh, how fun it would be to run out there…” He turns his gaze back to Almyra, enjoying the wind at his back and imagining simply sprinting through those Almyran plains.

No reason, no destination, just running off into the plains. Veery closes his eyes and feels a faint, hazy memory of flying, soaring endlessly simply because he can. It’s hard to remember, but he knows it’s the dream, the memory, that Sothis gives him after the Sealed Forest. Veery can’t fly and can’t pretend he particularly wants to (he’s used to unsteady terrain, being mountain-born, but he still likes the feeling of solid ground beneath his feet), but the feeling of freedom, of his own power bringing him wherever he pleases, is a hard one to forget, even if he knows it only from a dream.

It’s not so different, Veery suspects, with such a vast expanse of flat, welcoming land in front of him, to run those plains as it is to soar through the sky.

Claude chuckles. “Almyra is certainly different, isn’t it? And this is just a fraction of it. I wish you could see the cities.”

Veery shakes his head. “I’ll take the plains, thanks. You just really want to drag me into civilization, don’t you?”

“What can I say?” Claude says, smiling but doing his best to pout. “I’ll miss you if you’re all alone in the middle of nowhere.”

Veery giggles and nudges Claude affectionately. “I’ll miss you, too. That doesn’t mean I can put up with somewhere like Garreg Mach forever. Maybe you should just join me out in the wilds.”

Claude snorts. “Part of me wishes I could.” He sighs, shaking his head. “But I’ve got responsibilities, and a dream to fulfil.”

“Responsibilities.” Veery rolls his eyes. “All the more reason to live alone. I don’t have any of those.”

“Ha! You’re just a hermit version of Hilda, then?”

“At least we’re honest about being lazy.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Claude gasps in mock offense. “I’ll have you know that I am utterly irresponsible.”

“Then run away with me into Almyra,” Veery teases.

Claude smiles, but it quickly turns strained. Veery frowns, wondering what’s wrong, but Claude just fixes his expression into a more relaxed smile – even now, if Veery doesn’t witness his expression change like that, he might mistake it for an honest smile. “Hey, I haven’t told you, yet, but…” Claude starts.

Veery’s ear twitches, picking up on another sound that quickly distracts him from whatever Claude is concerned about. “Sorry, wait,” Veery says quickly silencing Claude, who immediately falls into duty-mode to handle whatever this is as seriously as his position demands. Veery listens. There it is again. “Wyverns,” Veery says.

Claude curses. “The attack is expected to come today,” he mutters. “Let’s go find Hilda and Holst.”

Holst is sick, apparently. Veery doesn’t get the chance to see him, but if he’s bedridden, then no matter what ails him, curing it now won’t have him up and in fighting shape for the battle. Which is now. That means that Hilda, being the only Goneril remaining in any state to fight, is the de facto general.

Hilda.

She is, admittedly, good at telling people what to do, but Veery wouldn’t necessarily peg her as the general type all the same. That being said, she quickly convenes with Claude and Professor Byleth and comes up with a plan which makes Veery feel a little better about Hilda being in charge here.

Of course, Fódlan’s Locket is an impressive fortress, so their side has an advantage anyway. Still, Cyril, Veery, Claude, and Marianne take a hidden path through the mountains to flank the Almyrans as they approach the Locket just to be sure.

Part of Veery is very much not happy that he’s in the thick of the fighting again – though he has to admit that this time, he quite literally asks for it – but another part is actually relieved that he gets to just be a brawler.

Fighting as a healer, or a hybrid, as he typically does, is technically safer – at least now that he can cast while shifted, anyway – but it’ll never be his comfort zone. He’s a cat. Ripping and tearing with his claws is just the way he’s supposed to fight. Magic helps but standing around on a battlefield healing just makes him feel like a sitting duck.

Besides, Veery doesn’t think it’ll be this satisfying to take down a wyvern with just his claws and teeth. There are no wyverns in Albinea, and until now Veery doesn’t face them in battle. Which is a good thing, because wyverns are undoubtedly terrifying predators. All the same, that just means that when it comes down to it and Veery leaps up, digs his claws into a wyvern’s belly, catches its throat in his jaws and manages to get a kick off that shreds part of its wing, and then somehow manages to land with just a tumble and some scratches as he brings the beast down to the earth really scratches at Veery’s pride.

Who’s the top predator now, you overgrown chicken?

As stupid as it is to engage something so large and deadly, Veery is lying massively if he pretends that he doesn’t always get a kick out of surpassing the challenge. Like when he takes down a moose.

In hindsight, Veery is quite sure that he would not be able to take down a war wyvern on his own before Professor Byleth and Leonie and the others start dragging him into training all those months ago. He wouldn’t even consider pulling a stunt like he does here, because he would know that there is no world in which he succeeds, but he supposes that even he improves his martial skills in his time at Garreg Mach.

Marianne chides him for being reckless, which is frankly hilarious, and would baffle the Veery from six months ago, but he really does have the situation under control. Marianne knows him well enough by now to know that while he’s a lot of things, reckless is most certainly not one of those.

Although, with how efficiently Claude and Cyril ground wyverns, Veery does admit that he’s probably better off focusing on the enemies they find on solid ground. In his defense, that wyvern swoops at him, so it kind of deserves it.

Regardless, most of their fight is Claude and Cyril working scarily efficiently to fend off the vast majority of the Almyrans they come across, Veery sniffing out enemies and eliminating anyone who gets too close, and Marianne either healing or shooting fur-raising Thoron spells with the levin sword that Professor Byleth gives her.

It’s nothing any of them aren’t familiar with, frankly. Still, it’s only after the battle is over, when he rejoins everyone else at the Locket, and the chaos of the fight starts to settle that Veery realizes that this isn’t a very impressive invasion force.

Sure, there are quite a few wyverns and the Almyrans are definitely fierce fighters, but this is more of a skirmish than a border war. Veery doesn’t think there’s many more people than Miklan had in Conand Tower, and that was a single bandit gang. He’s not an expert on war or anything, but he’s pretty sure that taking a fortress like the Locket calls for a much more significant showing.

“They aren’t really trying to cross Fódlan’s Throat. I'm not saying they’re not serious, but fights like this one aren’t really invasions.” Cyril says to Professor Byleth.

That explains this battle, then. Cyril explains more, about how it’s just to show off how tough they are and have an excuse to feast, and Veery can’t help but agree that it’s a stupid reason to fight and get people killed.

Veery has his pride. He even has pride as a warrior. Or… hunter, at least. Even just in this battle, the satisfaction of taking down a wyvern with his own strength is something that’ll stick with him and stroke his ego for a while. Even so, pride is no reason to lead people to their deaths, nor to seek out one’s own.

That said, Albineans aren’t much better in that regard. They’re always fighting. They don’t necessarily kill each other, but Veery highly suspects that that’s mostly just because Albinea itself does enough killing. He does hear that Albineans further to the west don’t get along with the ones in the east, though, so maybe there’s even fighting there, but Veery himself usually is too far north to hear about human squabbles, so that’s just rumor.

The brawls he does see, though… It almost makes him want to laugh. Back then, he can only think about how violent these humans are but looking back now… he thinks it’s mostly just posturing and fun. Just like how Leonie and Felix love sparring so much, those Albineans love a good brawl.

So, he tries not to judge the Almyrans for liking to fight. He disapproves of throwing themselves at Fódlan’s Locket, killing Almyrans and Fódlanders alike just for the sake of their fighting culture, but he doesn’t judge them for liking to fight.

He hopes that wyvern will be okay. Veery tries his best not to kill, even though he isn’t under orders not to, and for the most part in the battle the Almyrans seem content to admit loss when they are clearly bested, so he doesn’t like the idea of that wyvern actually dying from this skirmish.

Wyverns are cool. It’d be a shame to die here for such a stupid reason.

“I’m going to drop by my family’s estate and complain to my brother a bit,” Hilda says. “It’s up to you if we spend the night here at the fortress or not, Professor, but I, for one, vote to have comfortable beds.”

Professor Byleth frowns. “Lady Rhea isn’t happy that Veery and I left the monastery at all. We should probably get back as soon as we can.”

“Or we can have baths and beds tonight,” Claude says, smiling teasingly.

Professor Byleth closes her eyes, nodding seriously. “Good point. We’ll stay the night. You’ve all earned the rest, and we’ll be back in time for the revelation either way.”

“That’s the spirit, Teach!”

Veery scoots a little closer to Hilda, who is already preparing to leave the Locket behind her. There are a couple things on his mind, and both lie at the Goneril estate, so it won’t do for him to sit here at the Locket while Hilda goes off alone. “Uh… hey.”

“Hm? Oh, Veery! How can I help you?” Hilda coos sweetly.

“Your brother isn’t here because he’s sick, right?” Veery asks, sticking to the safer of the two things he’s concerned about. “Should… I go see him?”

“Aw.” Hilda grins. “That’s a great idea! Thank you so much for thinking of him. I’d really appreciate it if you could take a look at him. I’m sure it’s nothing serious, but I really can’t risk losing my brother. Without him, guarding this fortress would be my job!”

“And that would be a travesty,” Veery chuckles, only half-joking. Hilda will step up to the plate if she has to, Veery knows, but… serious border general is no more Hilda’s cup of tea than it is Sylvain’s. Then again, if Hilda pulls a Sylvian and tries to negotiate peace with Almyra, then maybe this should be her job. “Well, just take me to him and I’ll do what I can. If he’s willing to let me, anyway.”

Hilda screws up her face. “Don’t worry about that. Holst isn’t… well, you won’t have any problems with him. Except, maybe you might have to fend off his offers to fight you…”

“I’ll just aim him at Professor Byleth,” Veery says. “She’ll fight him.”

“Hah! Oh, I’d love to see that. We might have to be careful that Holst doesn’t fall in love, though. A beautiful woman who can kick his ass? Geez, maybe I shouldn’t have offered to let you guys stay the night so close.”

Veery snickers. “Don’t worry. If he’s bedridden right now, then even if I can do something to help him, he’s not going to be fighting by tomorrow morning. Doctor’s orders.”

“I wish that would work.” Hilda sighs. “My brother is brilliant, but…”

“Yeah, I really don’t understand that thing you humans do where you don’t listen to the people trying to keep you alive.” Veery giggles. “But apparently it’s so common that Professor Manuela has to lead several seminars specifically on that alone.”

“I wish I could say otherwise, but… Holst is enough of an idiot that you might have to worry about that. I’m sorry in advance for any trouble he causes.”

Veery just shrugs. “Hey, it’s not my health.”

Hilda giggles. “Anyway, come on! I’ll take you to him right away.” She eagerly grabs Veery’s arm and starts dragging him along, calling back to the professor in the meanwhile, “I’m taking Veery with me! We’ll be back soon, maybe! Definitely in the morning!”

“By dinner!” Professor Byleth calls.

“Probably!”

“Hey!” Claude exclaims, hurrying to catch up to them as Hilda drags Veeery out of the room. “Veery’s mine! You can’t just kidnap him!”

“Veery’s going to take a look at Holst, dummy.” Hilda rolls her eyes. “I’m not taking your boyfriend.”

Even hurrying through the halls as they are, Claude does his absolute best to look like he’s pouting. “But I wanted to talk to him.”

“You can talk after dinner,” Hilda says, sticking her tongue out. “But you’re more than welcome to come along, if you want to deal with my sick brother…”

Claude makes a face, deliberates, and then stops following them. “Alright, you win. I’ll see you both at dinner!”

“Bye-bye, Claude!”

Veery just chuckles at the two and waves to Claude himself. The next thing he knows, Hilda and he are on their way to the nearby Goneril estate.

Veery doesn’t know exactly what he expects from the estate. Frankly, he’s never been in anything that can be called an “estate” in his life, so he doesn’t have any frame of reference for it, much less one in the far east edge of Fódlan.

It’s… basically a miniature Garreg Mach, really. There’s no obvious chapel, but beyond that, there are stables, a training ground, several buildings with one in the end being obviously grander, all walled off. Put it on top of a mountain – which it is – and the only major difference is the Goneril Crest and Leicester Flag emblazoned everywhere rather than Seiros’.

Actually, Veery thinks he likes the atmosphere here more than Garreg Mach. It’s smaller, but less crowded – most of the troops, he figures, are at the Locket rather than the estate. It’s humbler, but that just means he doesn’t need a month of living there to figure out where anything is. Plus, despite it being warmer, it’s so pretty here!

The warmer clime means that plants flourish. Though the forests around Garreg Mach are evergreen (which admittedly still astounds Veery – the trees in Albinea are “evergreen” too, but they’re usually so covered in snow at this time of year that there isn’t much green to see) and Goneril is notably more rocky and objectively less green overall, it plays to the land’s benefit. What grows here, in this rocky, dry mountain, stands out much more than what grows in Garreg Mach, and even now it’s warm enough that there are outdoor gardens full of colorful flowers.

Veery isn’t sure he’s ever seen some of those colors before.

Gods, it’s like his first day at Garreg Mach all over again, just gawking and marveling at every little thing, except he’s with a friend and not quite so scared. Hilda giggles good-naturedly and encourages him, though, telling him patiently about everything that catches his eye, so it’s not entirely his own fault.

And the people… he gets some questioning looks but being led by the arm by Hilda silences any concern. He overhears chatter, people talking about who that is with Lady Hilda. The words “cat saint” are thrown around a few times, which Veery tries very hard not to cringe at, but overall people just kind of accept that Hilda’s in charge of him and don’t pay him much mind.

Well, one person prays that Veery isn’t some suitor Hilda picks up in her time away, and frankly that’s a fair enough lament that Veery can’t find it in himself to feel insulted. He likes Hilda well enough, but even if the idea of marriage didn’t still confuse Veery massively… him and Hilda? Nothing would ever be done. Both of them are far too lazy, and he’ll openly admit that he would definitely enable her.

Veery is more than willing to do things if he’s asked (politely), but he’s sort of like Linhardt in that if it’s not something that interests him, he’s not going to just get up and do it. He just… doesn’t have that kind of sense of duty.

Not to mention that he is vastly underqualified to have any sort of power over anyone. That, and he doesn’t want power, because power means people relying on him and people relying on him means people, and he really just wants to live alone in the mountains without people constantly nagging him.

Anyway, he’s being led through the hallways of the main house – Hilda’s home, apparently – listening to her chatter and keeping an eye on any servants he can see when he realizes that he has absolutely no idea how to identify an Almyran.

So, the plan of looking into the Almyran slave thing subtly goes out the window if he doesn’t even know what an Almyran looks like. He knows what Cyril looks like, and he sees a few faces during the battle earlier, but… well, to Veery, they just look human. Cyril doesn’t look that much different from Claude, and aside from colors and tones, Claude doesn’t look that much different from Hilda.

Obviously each one looks unique, with their own features, like them, but Veery honestly has no idea what to look for that will set apart an Almyran from a Fódlander. How is he supposed to tell what an Almyran looks like when Fódlanders look like everything from Hilda to Raphael? He can’t even begin to guess at features that mark Fódlanders, and he’s been living here surrounded by them for months.

Well, that’s a lack of foresight. He’s at Holst’s door, though, so he figures it’s a concern to get back to when he no longer has a patient on his hands.

“Holst! I’m back!” Hilda cheers loudly, prompting a groan from within the room. “And I brought a friend!”

The responding voice is clearly weak, which makes Veery frown, but Holst still does everything he can to greet his sister enthusiastically.

Veery follows Hilda into the room, slipping in and closing the door behind him, carefully eyeing his prospective patient. Honestly, Flayn and Marianne are better healers than him, so yes, he offers, but he really thinks one of them should be here considering this is a noble, but he can only sigh and take the situation as it is.

Holst, though large and muscular (much like Raphael, or any Albinean), is pale and haggard. There’s a sheen over his brow, and some of his pink hair is damp and plastered to his skin. Clearly ailing, and in pain, Holst tries to sit up, eagerly grinning through whatever he’s feeling to welcome his beloved sister.

“Oh, lay down, Holst. You’re sick!” Hilda chides him. “My friend here is a healer, who generously offered to come take a look at you.”

Holst laughs good-naturedly, forcing himself into a sitting position regardless of Hilda’s words, and glancing over to Veery. “My Hilda writes about you all the time. It’s a pleasure to finally meet the famous cat saint.”

Veery doesn’t bother to stop himself from cringing this time. With only Hilda and Holst, and him not eavesdropping to hear the words, he doesn’t see the need to. “I’m a cat,” he sighs, “but I’m not a saint.”

Holst laughs, quickly wincing and clutching his stomach when he does so. “Well, it’s an honor all the same,” he says. With a stroke of his beard, he adds, “If the rumors are true, the goddess herself gave you her power.”

“Loaned,” Veery says. “Or, rather, allowed me to use. I’m no more powerful now than I was before she intervened.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, as great as it is to meet Hilda’s famous brother, you’re sick. Do you mind if I look you over? See what I can do for you?”

“Not at all! That’d be appreciated.” Holst chuckles, still smiling the day away despite clearly being in a lot of pain. “Though, we do have our own healers. But rumor is you can heal anything.”

Veery makes a face. “Far from it. Honestly, I’m the most inexperienced of the three in the Deer.” Hilda makes a squealing sound, prompting Veery to correct himself. “If you count me as a Deer, which I’m technically not.”

“You admitted it!” Hilda cheers.

“I admitted it before we left.”

“Yeah, grudgingly,” Hilda huffs. “It’s about time you just called yourself one of us.”

“Has my sister been giving you a hard time?” Holst asks, eyes dancing with humor.

Veery shrugs, moving to examine Holst with his magic. “Not any harder than she gives everyone. Do you know how you got sick? Something you ate? Or just a random illness?”

“Ah.” Holst blushes, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “I… might have eaten a weird mushroom. I think that’s what caused it.”

“You what?” Hilda shrieks. Veery just closes his eyes. “You just found a weird mushroom and decided to eat it? Right before a battle?”

Holst visibly deflates, finally letting the illness make him look anything but chipper. “Hilda! I didn’t think it would-”

“Don’t eat weird plants you can’t identify is, like, the first thing Teach taught us in class!”

“Sounds like a smart lady.”

“Holst, you complete idiot!” Hilda groans.

Veery awkwardly clears his throat. “Um… what did the mushroom look like?”

Holst brightens again without Hilda criticizing him. “Oh, well, it was about… this big, and had a really pretty pink top. Pink! That’s why I picked it up.”

“Pink…” Veery mutters. “Sweating, stomach pain… muscle pain?” Holst nods. “Right.” Veery is pretty sure Claude poisons himself with that last month. “I should be able to get the toxin out of your system, but you’re still going to have to rest for a while as your body realizes there’s no more threat. Hold still.”

Veery purses his lips, tail swaying as he concentrates on using his Restore spell. Restore is… complicated. Veery only learns it because of the incident at Remire, and the resulting lessons on poisons and dark magic ailments, and then Veery’s subsequent discovery of how Claude likes to test his experimental poisons.

Honestly, thanks to Claude, this might be the one aspect of healing that Veery is actually better at than Marianne. Still, it requires focus and patience to fully clear someone of toxins. A quick-fix to ward off symptoms in the middle of combat, applied right after (or before) the poisoning, is easy enough, but that’s very different from meticulously purging toxins from someone’s whole body.

Holst whistles. “Woah, you really can just cure me, huh? I guess I shouldn’t have doubted. Seems like the rumors are more right about you than you give yourself credit for.”

“No,” Veery says patiently. “They’re really not.”

“They are, though!” Hilda says, traitorously. “You should have seen him on the battlefield, Holst. He took down a whole wyvern! Just jumped on it as it was diving at him and brought it to the ground.”

“Ha! That’s gutsy. I like it! You transform into a big cat to fight, right? We should spar sometime!”

Veery glares at Hilda. She makes no attempt to pretend she doesn’t do that on purpose. “I don’t like fighting,” Veery says. “And we’ll be gone by the time you’re in any shape to fight, anyway.”

“Aw.” Holst pouts. “Then you’ll just have to come back to visit sometime! And bring your professor next time, too. From Hilda’s letters, I can’t wait to spar with her.”

Veery glances to Hilda. “It sounds like she writes a lot about us.”

“Oh, yeah! She really likes you guys. I really wish I could have come out and fought along with you and thank you all personally for taking care of my sister.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Veery says, narrowing his eyes at Hilda, who quickly realizes what’s happening and subtly gestures for him to shut up. “You won’t be able to fight, but if you rest today and sleep it off, you should be able to come out to the Locket in the morning to see everyone off if you want. Professor Byleth especially is so proud of Hilda, I’m sure she’d love to talk to you about her progress this year.”

Hilda audibly gasps. “You didn’t…”

“That’s a great idea!” Holst exclaims. “I can’t wait to finally meet this fabled professor! But Hilda never mentions much about her own progress at the academy. Still, it’s no surprise that her professor sees just how wonderful and talented my brilliant little sister is.”

“Veery,” Hilda growls into his ear. “You’ll pay for this.”

Veery raises his brow at her. “Oh, definitely,” he says, pointedly, to Holst. “In fact, she told me just earlier how proud she was of Hilda for taking charge at the Locket today. She led your troops to victory in today’s attack, you know. Our professor’s role there was as just another soldier.”

“Should I blame Sylvain, Claude, or myself?” Hilda sighs. “Who taught you to do this?”

Holst practically jumps out of his seat, forcing Veery to chastise him and hold him still even as he rambles praises that has Veery grinning and Hilda blushing under her brother’s unrestrained affection. “It’s all three of you that taught me.” Veery mutters just for her. “But I’m glad to see you’re taking responsibility, at least.”

“You’re the worst.”

“You’re blushing.”

“Shut up!”

Veery has to admit, he’s kind of smug when he sits down to dinner with Hilda and Claude and the others. Every time Hilda gives him the stink-eye, Veery can’t help but grin back.

Claude watches this exchange through the evening, staying quiet but obviously amused, though Hilda quickly gives up on pouting in favor of enjoying the meal with her classmates. It’s only when Claude grabs Veery’s arm after dinner and drags him and Hilda into a quiet, isolated place that Veery remembers there is something Claude wants to tell him. Something he almost says up on the top of the Locket, just before the Almyrans arrived.

“What happened between you two?” Claude asks, breaking the quiet that falls between them.

“Cruel and unusual punishment,” Hilda says.

“Payback,” Veery answers.

Claude raises his brow.

“I blame you, Claude. Veery’s too good at manipulating people now.”

Veery snorts loudly. “No, your brother is just easy.”

Hilda groaned, sounding almost pained. “I wish I could argue with that…”

Claude shakes his head. “What happened, exactly?”

“I might’ve praised Veery in front of my brother,” Hilda says. “But only because he was being so darn modest! And then he decides to get back at me by praising me, knowing full well that my brother won’t shut up with the praises when I’m involved. Holst is even going to meet us tomorrow before we leave to…” She gags dramatically on her words. “Talk to Teach about my progress. He’s going to be insufferable for years after this!”

“You made him want to fight me!” Veery complains. “You knew what you were doing, too!”

“Graduation is so soon! You might not ever even come back to Goneril, but I’m going to have to live with him!”

“He’s your brother!”

Claude bursts out laughing, swiftly bringing Veery and Hilda’s complaining to an end. “Well, it’s good to see you two getting along. For a while there I was worried you weren’t friends.”

Hilda protests. “What? Of course, Veery is my friend!”

Veery, however, just makes a strained groaning sound. “It’s not that I don’t like her…” he says. “She’s just hard to keep up with most of the time.”

“Excuse me?”

“Claude slows down for me. You just go and go and I have trouble following, sometimes. Today wasn’t bad, but… sometimes I have no idea what you’re talking about. You talk fast and don’t leave time for me to think and process and I get left behind a bit.”

Hilda’s eyes go wide. “Oh! Oh, I should have realized. That was so stupid of me. I’m so sorry. I never meant to overwhelm you like that.”

Veery chuckles. “I know. I know you just get excited. But Claude thinking we weren’t friends might’ve come from me avoiding you from time to time. I’m still not great with people, and you’re… a little more to deal with than most people.”

Hilda makes a show of pouting, but still sighs. “I understand. Don’t be afraid of just telling me I’m being too much, alright? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Hah. Right. I’ll remember that. I might do that now, but before…” He shrugs. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. Point being, we’re definitely friends now, right?”

“Of course!” Hilda coos. “Does this mean I get to pet you?”

“Not a chance.”

“Aw, boo.”

Claude chuckles. “I could watch you two all day, but I did want to talk to you about something.”

Oh. Right. It’s too easy to get carried away with Hilda, honestly, now that Veery is a little more capable of keeping up with her. On good days, anyway, when he’s feeling more sociable. Hilda and he both turn their attention obediently back to Claude. “What is it that we need to sneak off to talk about?” Hilda asks.

Claude bites his lip, a rare show of uncertainty. “Hilda… first, I wanted to ask you about what Cyril says about Almyran children being mistreated by the Gonerils.”

Oh. It looks like Veery doesn’t have to ask about that after all. Good. That makes things easier.

Hilda’s expression immediately darkens. “It’s true that we take in orphaned kids if we find them.” Hilda sighs heavily. “I know for a fact that my brother has never mistreated anyone, but… I can’t say for certain that it’s entirely stopped. To be honest, Claude, I’ve been writing to my brother about that for a while now. He’s doing what he can for them, but… prejudices are hard to overcome, and my brother is just one person. He doesn’t always know when cousins or heads of staff or anyone else like that decides to take out their frustrations on the Almyrans in the estate. And my father is… more traditional than my brother, too. Not beyond reasoning with, but… progress comes slower with him.”

Claude blinks. “You’ve… already been writing to your family about that?”

“Of course!” Hilda frowns. “Before I came to the academy, I admit I had some pretty terrible opinions of the Almyrans myself. I didn’t think twice about the mistreatment, or even the servitude in the first place, because that’s just how I was raised.” She looks over to Veery. “But then I met you, and Veery, and Cyril, Dedue, Petra, and I… well, it took a while, but I started thinking, and looking back at life here, and realized there are some things that need to be changed. I don’t like to work, but my brother listens to me, and I can at least talk with him about it through letters for a while.”

Hilda sighs again, looking affectionately at the both of them. “You two both want a world where there aren’t any walls like that between people, right? Where people are free to be different and still respected. Me, I just want to live freely, with nothing tying me down. I want to do things my way, and no one else’s, so… I really respect your dream, you know? I think I can live my way in the world you two create, so that’s enough reason for me to support you.”

Claude, openly dumbstruck, smiles. “Hilda…”

Hilda flashes a cheeky grin. “And my way of life doesn’t involve stupid prejudices. So, I’ll be relying on you to help me keep fixing my own, okay? And in return, I’ll do my part to help you make your dream a reality. Starting right here in Goneril with the Almyrans. I’ve even been talking to Sylvain recently about how he’s planning on making peace with Sreng. I’m hoping my brother can pull off something similar here, too, and I won’t have to worry about inheriting a guard post anymore.”

“Ha.” Claude shakes his head. “Wow. You really knew exactly what I was going to say, didn’t you?”

“That’s my job, silly!” Hilda giggles. “I’m your second-in-command, aren’t I? What kind of deputy would I be if I couldn’t even figure out my leader’s intentions?”

“You really are amazing, Hilda,” Claude says. “Thank you. Your support means a lot to me.”

“Don’t look so surprised, dummy. You’re my friend and house leader. Besides that, your dream is worth following.”

Claude grabs her and pulls her, yelping, into a tight hug. Veery smiles watching them. “No, seriously,” Claude mutters. “Thank you.” He releases her, the surprise finally wearing off to allow the insecurity return to his features. “I’m… not used to having support, honestly. I didn’t really trust that I’d get any allies from my time at Garreg Mach, but somehow I got you two.”

He looks down, away, and then sighs. “I want to trust you both. Hilda… I think you might have already figured it out, but I know Veery hasn’t. I… It’s hard to trust anyone like this…”

“I know,” Veery says gently. “Trust is… hard.” Whatever it is that Claude is hiding, Veery definitely knows the feeling he’s describing. Wanting to trust someone, hoping that your faith isn’t misplaced, stepping forward into doubt, even certain failure and betrayal, on the mere chance that his fears will prove unfounded and everything will be okay. It’s the story of Veery’s entire time in Fódlan.

Claude smiles. “I know you do. You… really, really do. Gods…” He shakes his head. “Anyway, my big secret… I’m Almyran. Half, obviously. The Crest comes from my mom.”

Claude is Almyran? Veery blinks. “…Okay?” He tilts his head, wondering just what exactly the big deal is.

Hilda sighs. “Yeah, I guessed as much. I’m sorry, Claude, I said some really stupid things around you. I’m surprised you trust me at all, considering that.”

“I didn’t, for a while,” Claude admits. “But I noticed your attitude change. You stopped talking about other groups of people thoughtlessly. I did what I could to encourage that change – honestly seeing it for myself is probably why I trust you as much as I do.”

Veery bites his lip. “I think something got lost here,” he says. “What’s the big deal about being Almyran?”

Claude raises his brow. “Oh, right. You wouldn’t care. It’s just the same old story. In Almyra, everyone hates me because I’m half Fódlander. In Fódlan, everyone hates me because I’m half Almyran. I’m surprised you didn’t notice. I call it my secret, but the truth is it’s kind of an open one. I mean, look at me.”

“That’s how I figured it out.” Hilda nods.

“Right,” Claude says. “I honestly thought you’d see me with Cyril and put the pieces together.”

Veery just fixes them both with a flat look. “Really? The agell from Albinea is definitely going to accurately guess that a human is lying about their ethnicity because the single Almyran he knows looks sort of vaguely like him?”

“Ha! Good point. Sorry, Veery. I really should have told you sooner.”

“Why?” Veery asks. “Does it matter at all?”

Claude snickers. “Well, not to you, probably. But Hilda… me being Almyran isn’t all there is to it.”

“Oh?” Hilda leans in, sensing gossip. “What else is there?”

Claude clears his throat, insecurity revealing itself once more, but he quickly pushes it back and says, “I’m Prince Khalid.”

“That… also means nothing to me,” Veery admits. So, Claude is a prince, too? Okay. All Veery takes from that is that Claude is important in both Fódlan and Almyra, which should help him, right? Oh, except people hate him because he’s not a true anything, so that is a difficult situation.

Hilda opens her mouth, shuts it, then repeats that process a few more times before finally settling on. “Oh. Well, that is complicated. You’re still my friend and leader, though, so don’t ever forget that.”

That’s Claude’s cue to let out the breath he’s holding and dive back into a hug, this time with both of them.

Veery can’t begin to guess at Claude’s experiences. The memories that make him who he is, the sneaky, scheming, poison-crafting, silver-tongued, future duke, are out of Veery’s reach. Veery doubts he’ll ever understand fully where Claude comes from, but it’s apparent enough that he’s hurt by prejudice, by the thing that their dream brings an end to, and that he’s trusting even though he doesn’t trust, doing even though he doesn’t believe, and Veery understands that more than anything.

Trust is hard, very hard, for Veery. Still, Claude doesn’t let him down yet. Veery has no intention of letting Claude down, either.

[blue-and-dog]

The Beast in the Mountains (A Sengoku Basara One-Shot)

Note: This story is centered around my fanon that, post-Sekigahara, Mitsunari and his family fled into the mountains to live in hiding for several years before his death. A wife is mentioned, but for the sake of this story I keep her ambiguous so you readers who have an OC shipped with him can just slap her in there. :D Shiranui’s profile is here.

TW: BLOOD, ANIMAL ATTACK

[[MORE]]

“That’s a good size fire; try and keep it like that for now.”

The group of men sat around the small fire; four dirty, tired, ragged men on the run from proper society, obscured by the darkness of the mountain’s dense forest, barely illuminated by the small fire. Sadanobu continued.

“Any brighter and we risk attracting animals. I’m already worried about smoke flowin’ through the treetops.”

“With how thick these trees are?” Gaku chuckled, “I’m surprised the moonlight even gets through here. We’ll be fine. We just gotta make sure to put it out before we call it a night.”

“You sure no one’ll find us up here?” Naofumi asked, as usual fidgeting with his hands out of anxiety.

“Relax, I did some scoping out of the town not far from these mountains,” Matazaemon shook his head, “They’re superstitious folk. Somethin’ about an old legend saying there’s a guardian spirit that lives on this mountain. People who go too high up the mountain end up in its territory and meet a horrible fate or some shit like that. That’s why I wanted to set up the camp so high up.”

“Besides, we’re not staying long...” Sadanobu pulled out the thick sack from behind him, “We gotta get to my guy in Kyoto and pawn all this off.”

Another successful heist for the unlikely group of criminals; two army deserters, a farmer and a gambler, able to pool their strengths and successfully rob their way across the East. Traveling nobles, temples, inns—nothing was safe. The country was a mess—they were just taking the opportunity to help themselves.

“That last temple was hidin’ some good loot!” Gaku said excitedly, “I still can’t believe how lucky we got! Lemme see again!”

Sadanobu rolled his eyes, but smiled and passed the bag to Gaku, who excitedly opened it, tilting it toward the light of the fire to see the inside; the head of the gold Buddha glittered back at him. “We got enough goodies in here to eat like kings for weeks!”

“Man, I haven’t eaten a decent meal since the Toyotomi...” Sadanobu sighed and leaned back. “It’ll be nice...”

“Hey, yeah, you were a Toyotomi guy!” Matazaemon laughed, “I was Oda! I know your pain.”

“You’re kidding! You don’t strike me as an Oda guy.”

“And you don’t strike me as a Toyotomi!” he cackled back, as the two howled in laugher. Gaku and Naofumi chuckled along.

“You know, you two never talked about your army days,” Naofumi pointed out, “We got time—why not start now?”

“It’s really nothin’ much,” Matazaemon shook his head, digging through another bag to grab a rice ball and start distributing them amongst the group, “I joined up so my old man didn’t have to, wound up havin’ to do a lot of killing and burning and pillaging that I really never wanted to do. Watched all the major generals shining above everyone else, while the foot soldiers were trampled beneath them. Date, Takeda, Uesugi...they were the kind of guys that really made war seem like a fun time.”

“I know what you mean,” Gaku replied, “They made it look like something we should aspire to. I almost joined up with Date myself, but...when folks from the Date came around enlisting able-bodied men, I took off so my mom wouldn’t have to see her only son die for the sake of some egotist who just wanted more land for himself. I wonder how she’s doing...?”

“That’s the thing about these generals and daimyo,” Naofumi shrugged, “They shine brighter by standing on the backs of their soldiers.”

“Oda was a complete monster, though,” Matazaemon grumbled. “All of his inner circle were. Moment I got news Akechi killed him, I took the opportunity to turn tail while everyone was scrambling around. Never looked back.”

“Similar to my story,” Sadanobu nodded, “Hideyoshi was a creep...even standing near him put me on edge. And his supporters weren’t any better.” He leaned forward, looking down into the fire. “I remember one day, when I was training...apparently his general, Ishida, didn’t think I was making enough progress. By some mercy, he kept his sword sheathed, but he beat me with the sheathed weapon in some twisted attempt to strengthen me. All it did was strengthen my resolve to get the hell out of there soon as I could. Glad he’s dead.”

“Is he, though?” Naofumi raised an eyebrow. “I thought it wasn’t confirmed.”

“He and his family were in Osaka castle when some folks raided it after he lost Sekigahara. The whole place went up in flames; there’s no way an impulsive guy like that had any escape plan to get out of there undetected. There were so many burnt corpses in the castle afterward once the fire was under control; he had to be among them. He wouldn’t have run. He never ran.”

Naofumi closed his eyes in thought. “Maybe. There’s always a chance.”

“Don’t even start. I don’t wanna think about the possibility that that asshole’s still out there somewhere. And even if he is...he’d never willingly show his face again.”

The wind seemed to whisper above them. And a rumbling came from the woods around them.

“What was that?” Naofumi looked up, now apprehensive.

“Probably just an animal attracted to the light,” Gaku reached toward the fire, grabbing a burning hunk of wood from it as he stood up. “Wave this around a little bit and they’ll be gone. I’ll do it.”

Gaku turned from the group, heading through the brush, waving the burning wood around to light his path. Big, dramatic steps and stomps to intimidate whatever was near, his companions watching from afar.

Then, his head perked up, as if he spotted something. But before he could speak a word, he let out a choked-off cry, the flame dropping and going out.

“Gaku!” Matazaemon cried out as the group stood up, on high alert. Then, the loud thumps of quick but heavy footsteps, and a vicious bark and snarl, as a large, white blur lunged forward, biting Matazaemon by the arm; the force knocked him to the ground as he felt the arm pop out of place. He howled a mix of pain and fear.

Naofumi stared in shock and horror at the large wolf now viciously yanking Matazaemon to and fro like a rag doll, blood soaking its teeth and maw. But Matazaemon’s screams finally snapped him to attention as he pulled out his knife, plunging it toward the beast’s side in a panic.

He missed the stab, but the blade did slice the wolf’s side, as it let go of his friend and instantly turned on him; its jaw snapped open, going for his throat, and as he fell back, he looked to Sadanobu for help.

But Sadanobu had fled. Even as the wolf snarled and tore into him, Naofumi could hear footsteps approaching, and hear something slice into Matazaemon, silencing his howls of agony.

Sadanobu blindly pushed his way through the brush, his face a mix of fear, of terror, of snot and spit, while he tried to process that he was alone now, on this mountain, at night.

The Beast of the Mountain was real! That was no ordinary wolf! That thing...that thing was a monster! So fast, so strong! He had to leave its territory.

He had to get down the mountain.

He tripped in his panic, falling and rolling a ways, before finally sliding to a stop, staring up at the break in the treetops to see the moon. He began to sit up, but froze.

Footsteps. Two feet.

He began to hyperventilate, wondering if the beast had changed form, to come after *him.*

But the moon began to make his pursuer visible. And he could see those thin, angry eyes glaring down at him.

Those thin, angry eyes from all those years ago.

And he began to wail.

“IT’S YOU—“

SPLURCH!

That one slice caused his insides to burst out of him, as he fell back, gurgling his final sounds, the world around him becoming black.

....

And Ishida Mitsunari flicked the blood off his old sword before sheathing it again. His intuition had been correct; the noise and dim light he saw from his home wasn’t just his imagination playing tricks on him; someone had the audacity, once again, to venture that high up the mountain. And they needed to be dealt with swiftly, before he risked them finding him.

Grabbing the body by the leg, he began to drag it back with him toward the campfire. As he did, he whistled a short whistle, as the snarls and barks from before were replaced by panting; he found the wolfdog standing by the other two bodies, his curled tail twitching in satisfaction. Dropping the first body’s leg, Mitsunari knelt down.

“Come here. Let me see.”

The dog padded forward, allowing Mitsunari to get a closer look. Removing his right glove (revealing a hand scarred from burns), he ran a hand along the wound in the dog’s side; the dog let out a small whimper, but didn’t panic.

“...it’ll scar, but it’s nothing serious,” he muttered, “We’ll treat it when we get back home. Good work, Shiranui.”

His children had named the dog when he brought the pup back to their home two years prior, having found the pup attempting to steal one of the pheasants he had hunted. Now fully grown, it was clear the dog took mostly wolf traits...but, at his core, Shiranui had always been a loyal dog...especially to his master.

Once certain the wound wasn’t serious, Mitsunari turned his attention to the bodies. Retrieving the last one from a ways away, he wasted no time rifling through their pockets and satchels for supplies. Medicine, food, tools...anything usable, he gathered into the largest bag. As he came across the sack containing their ill-gotten gains, he pondered the contents for a bit...before shaking his head. He had no need for any of this. Gold and the like wouldn’t keep them alive. Wouldn’t keep them safe.

One by one, he dragged each body a ways up to the cliffs, before rolling each body over the edge with one smooth motion, watching them get swallowed by the darkness below as he listened to the impact of them striking the cliff side, the stones, the tree branches....and lastly, he tossed the sack of treasures, too. Good fortune to whomever finds them, he supposed. It didn’t matter to him either way. Either way, the Beast of the Mountain had maintained its status as something to be feared.

Returning to the camp and snuffing out the fire, he let his eyes readjust to the darkness, before looking to Shiranui’s bloodied face.

“Let’s wash your face before we go back.” His wife hated when the dog came back from its hunts and meals looking like that.

After stopping by the stream to clean off the dog’s face and wash the wound a bit, they began their quiet trek back home, their loot in hand. Nearly three years of this life...and sometimes, it was still wildly unfamiliar to him.

He should have died at Sekigahara. He should have taken his life when he failed to avenge his lord.

He should have.

But he didn’t.

Now he was a spent match; the fire of battle had long left him, and now he was smoke, drifting about his new life, though sometimes, that little fire would come back. Sometimes, he would remember why he lived.

Off the beaten path, past the troublesome terrain, there stood a small house. His house. It was no Sawayama, it was no Osaka Castle, but it was home. And it was here that he quietly slid open the door, only to flinch slightly, startled by the shape of his wife’s feet in the moonlight shining through the door. In her arms, the smallest of his children, his only daughter, little Tatsuhime, fast asleep and undisturbed.

“...how close were they?” his wife asked in the softest of voices.

“Close enough to be a problem,” he replied. She could tell he was willfully omitting details. Details that would distress or upset her. He clearly didn’t want to elaborate further. Other than, “Shiranui’s hurt. I’ll stay with him tonight.”

She gave a quiet nod, quietly vanishing into the tiny hallway, as she, too, was swallowed by darkness.

Mitsunari retrieved a cloth, taking a seat against the wall and beckoning the dog over; Shiranui obeyed, laying down as Mitsunari pressed the cloth against the wound. The dog rested his head on his master’s lap, while Mitsunari rested his own head against the wall.

He could faintly hear the rustling of his wife setting Tatsuhime down to sleep; undoubtedly between her two older brothers. His wife was then rustling into bed as well.

He didn’t know when he’d sleep.

But until then, he’d remember why he lived.

[moeruhoshi]

Never Hit a Girl

Never hit a girl. His father told him that as soon as he met Erza. But Igneel learned that soon after, he probably couldn’t even land a hit on her if he tried.

Never hit a girl unless they’re Erza. It was a much easier rule for the fledgling to understand. He had no will to hit Levy or Juvia, even if they hit him first. There probably wouldn’t be another girl in this world that he would want to hit.

Or so he thought for a few years. But there was a girl, Lucy Heartfilia. She came to live in Magnolia when they were about nine or so.

It’s not like he saw her in the park one day and wanted to outright tackle her. She didn’t really come anywhere near him, anyhow. She was Cana’s friend, and over the years got closer to the other girls in their friend group.

Lucy wasn’t all that used to guys and was kind of scared of them after she saw them play-fighting in the park. So they didn’t push it with her and lived just kind of knowing her for a little while. Erza took that time in between them meeting to strengthen her up, of course. Because the guys weren’t so scary once they were cowering under your fist, so she said.

Per the redhead’s rule, they didn’t even try talking to her until she was ready.

It was strange for her to be wary even as the years went on, but Levy summed up a large part of it for them.

Even if she were still scared, she would have approached them eventually. Not two or three years, she was probably fine after about a week of seeing them around. But she had a strict dad that didn’t want her stepping out of line, so she made it apparent not to gain any male friends. For their safety and her own.

If Lucy were really all that terrified, she wouldn’t have made sure the guys got chocolates on Valentine’s Day. Or gifts on their birthday. Indirect things that Cana passed along.

It was sweet in an odd way, Natsu’s smile always turned up halfway when he got something from her.

She knew he was a dragon, so his snacks were always overly spicy.

By then, they were all fourteen, still unable to speak casually together.

That’s when Natsu started noticing these strange voices. They were his own inner thoughts, but at the same time they felt separate from him. Like a mischievous voice trying to coax him into doing something dangerous. Which he couldn’t help really wanting to do.

Back to the main point at hand, he didn’t just want to hit Lucy. It was a little weird, but he really wanted to wrestle with her.

And no, that wasn’t just some replacement word for sex.

He had heard how strong she was, how Erza had secretly trained her to become almost as deadly as herself. So he was curious.

If she could pin him, if he could pin her. How he’d block a punch of hers, if she could block one of his.

He wanted to wrestle her to the ground and just...let her toss him back on his ass.

What the fuck was that though? He was upset with that kind of thinking, so he did his best to ignore it. He was glad at these times that there wasn’t much between them.

She continued to stick close to the girls for the next couple of years, baking sweets for them, giving giri chocolates to be passed through Erza. Both Gray and Gajeel could admit they had a soft spot for her at this point. They wished it hadn’t been so hard to just have a simple hang. 

But they did one year, at a summer festival. Lucy’s father was out of town for the week that lined up with the yearly event, one she had never been able to attend before. 

Her staff pretended like they didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing, that being with her staying at Cana’s for the night before and after. 

They had a group chat, one Lucy couldn’t be a part of as her dad consistently read her texts. But the brunette let them all know that night that Lucy would be there and making a picnic lunch for their day out. 

They were sixteen when he realized he was in love.

Natsu thought that maybe it was just her food, the fact that she cooked like a goddess was fooling him into thinking it was attraction.

But it was surprisingly easy to talk to her, it was fun even. He felt like he’d really known her for years after a few conversations. Her smile churned his stomach, her scent swam down into him, making him purr and bristle excitedly. He looked at her with a swooned gaze whenever she turned away. And under the boom of the fireworks, she was the only thing sparkling that day.

Although, she did begin to glow a little when the moon rose, as she was a star fallen from the sky.

It was unfair that he couldn’t see her like this again, that he felt as though his heart was walking away from him.

But then, the voice returned, reminding him of that twisted urge.

He went to bed with a frown, unfortunately. It was better for them to be apart.

When they were seventeen, much had changed. They were seniors, almost adults. Maybe her father had decided to put some trust in her, or maybe he was tired of being so demanding. But she was able to choose her friends, as long as she wasn’t out past nine.

Natsu kept his distance. He could see the pain in her eyes whenever he made up an excuse to ditch the group, but he had to. Sometimes he felt like he couldn’t really control those thoughts. Sometimes they got so bad when she was around, he had to run away.

He told Gray and Gajeel after he almost got the shit beaten out of him for being such a jerk. His cousin understood. Luckily he and Levy were practically married, so his inner dragon wasn’t as much of a hassle.

The girls had to, unfortunately, live in the dark about the whole situation. Which only made for the best rants during their sleepovers.

Lucy wasn’t that upset, the girls were for her. If she had to think about it, she was just disappointed because she really wanted to get to know Natsu. Because maybe she liked him a little too. He was pretty cute, after all.

So things were as they were for a good amount of time, until one day, their classes combined for a session during P.E.

Natsu gulped as he stood across from Lucy in the gym, both awkwardly trying to avoid eye contact. He wanted to run over and ask the teacher to switch partners, but that would probably come off the wrong way. It was likely that Lucy already hated him for what he decided.

But he was scared. Their class was having a spar session, god knows why. It was pretty well known that most girls at this school could throw a punch that would knock you out so...? They were unfortunately never given a reason why.

“Should we...?” Lucy raised her fists a bit, shrugging with a soft smile on her lips.

“U-Um, sure,” He breathed steadily, his eyes seeing that most had begun to participate.

They weren’t wearing gloves so it wasn’t a true sparring match; he was figuring at this point that the teachers were just bored and wanted some entertainment.

He held himself back, blocking her strikes easily as it didn’t seem like she put much effort forth.

But he wanted her to. Wasn’t this the exact right time, the best opportunity for her to unleash her anger on him? Wasn’t she upset that he wasn’t near her? Didn’t she feel the pain of being apart in her heart?

Natsu shoved her a bit, unknowingly, which caused Lucy to stumble back. She pursed her lips and steadied her loose stance now.

“What was that for?” She asked with a bit of a whine.

“I saw an opening,” He shrugged, still doing his best to avoid her eyes.

She maneuvered a kick, sweeping it to catch Natsu behind his knees. He made a small shout, Lucy giggling as he landed on his butt.

“I saw an opening,” She shrugged, smiling down at the pouty glare Natsu flashed.

“Alright, lets go again,”

They both got more serious as Natsu stood up, his fire starting to bloom in his stomach. He was finally dating his odd desires, though he didn’t pay much attention to what his body was doing at the moment.

His scales began to fleck out on his skin, his eyes shifting into a more golden and shimmering shade. He failed to notice his tail pop out of his shorts, or the canines in his mouth stretch out ever so slightly. 

Lucy was too heated as well to notice much else about him, her drive to pin him down now much more important. 

He met every palm strike with a block, every kick with a shin slowing down her strike. She did the same, neither able to one up the other. Their sweat began to build, their teeth began to grit, students began to turn their heads when the room got a tad warm. But no one said anything. They were too interested, wondering if Lucy had what it took to take the fire dragon down. 

He growled when her strong scent caught under his nose, fuck, he loved how she smelled. Getting all worked up because of him, showing off her strength and presenting herself to him like this. He was crazy turned on, if the boner in his pants hadn’t made it obvious. But they were moving too quickly for anyone to notice.

He was having fun, if anything. He loved this, could do it any day of the week. Especially if he got to show off for her like this as well. He was a formidable opponent, right? Someone who was clearly able to match her speed, who was good enough to be the one to stand by her side. 

Natsu’s dragon was a little impatient, wanting more than just this back and forth, than the teasing they were engaging in. 

His tail subtly slithered up from behind, Lucy not noticing it until it wrapped around her upper thigh.

“Eek!” She stifled a small shriek as it dragged her to the floor, Natsu following to pin her down. “Hey that’s chea–” 

The blonde cut herself off when she felt something poke at her hips, suddenly flushed with embarrassment. It didn’t allow her much time to process anything else as the dragon swiftly lowered his lips to meet her own.

It wasn’t a smug peck like someone would have expected. It was warm, deep, and sensual right off the bat. 

He had a hand holding the back of her head steady while the other curled up in her open hand. 

His lips moved to smother hers before coaxing them to follow his lead. She didn’t know how to kiss, obviously, but briefly followed his lead out of curiosity. And the warmth of his lips was absolutely soothing. Lucy’s mind instantly felt hazy rather than alert, like she was being subdued into slumber.

“I love you,” He breathed out in a brief parting from her reddened lips. 

His tongue barely made it past them when suddenly, a large water cannon collided with his body and flung him into the nearby wall.

Juvia was flustered and staring at Gray with swoony eyes and weak legs. The winter sprite pretended not to see her making that face at him. Erza stood beside her and aimed her hand, an intense blush on her cheeks and a fuming gaze pointed at the soaked dragon.

“Just what the hell did you––Natsu!” The valkyrie shouted as the pink-haired boy quickly booked his ass out of a nearby window. 

He shuddered and felt his stomach sink, running back to the locker room to quickly change. 

How could he, did he have no control?! To get so lost in his own desires that he rubbed himself up against her and stole a kiss like that? His heart felt sick, like the fire ran through his veins had now gone cold. 

He ran out of the room after quickly stripping from his wet clothes, heading towards the other end of campus before flying away. 

He’d be found at home, but would rather have Erza kill him in his own bedroom instead of in front of the entire school.

So he waited painfully for his death, not even bothering to have a last meal with his parents that night. They were concerned but didn’t push him for answers. They figured it was enough to know that he was okay if they let in an absolutely fuming and enraged Erza Scarlet. But he was sure that the whole gang would be coming after him this time. Lucy probably cried...

His ears caught the ringing of a doorbell in the middle of the night; he hadn’t the will to enjoy a peaceful sleep either. His stomach turned, but he forced himself out of bed, not wanting his parents to be bothered with this whole ordeal. 

They’d probably drag him out to the park, if they were here this late. Knock him the fuck out and hang him up in a tree with pervert written in calligraphy ink on his chest. 

He opened the door with his head hung low, expecting to be grabbed and manhandled right away. 

The light clearing of a throat surprised him, he knew that voice.

“L-Lucy? What’re you doing here this late?” He asked, quickly shutting the door behind him. He felt a little odd standing there in a zip up hoodie and loose sweatpants while she was in an oversized tee an practically nonexistent shorts. 

“I snuck out and had Cana drop me off,” She said, looking over her shoulder to the brunette parked down the street on her motorcycle. “She said I should come see you, and I really wanted to, actually.”

“Eh? Really?” He was surprised, but figured she just came to punch him out and to stay the hell away from her for the rest of her life. It pained him to think as much, but he deserved it. 

“I...well, I just,” She blushed and shuddered as the wind rolled over her arms. “I wanted to know if you meant what you said to me earlier.”

“What did I say?” He wasn’t really sure, since it hadn’t really been him that was there. He remembered what had gotten him riled up and the brief aftermath, but...

“You said that you loved me.” She said matter of factly, refusing to look away from his darting gaze.

“I––”

“Either you meant it or you didn’t, just tell me,” There was a twinge of sadness in her voice, the slightest but most audible octave she could have reached. His nose caught scent of starter tears, her eyes beginning to slowly wet. 

“I meant it!” He quickly confessed, afraid that he’d have to see her cry. “Since that summer festival we all went to. I love you, but I didn’t mean to do all that today, really I––”

“Then why have you been avoiding me? Wouldn’t you have wanted to be my friend?” She was now frustrated and stomped her foot a bit. He thought it was cute.

“I did, I mean it, Luce. But I couldn’t when I thought about such weird things about you. I didn’t want to freak you out,” He breathed out, embarrassed but he jumped over that hurdle to be honest. Natsu wasn’t sure why, but it felt like an instinct. He had to be upfront with her, absolutley no lies or she’d never trust him.

“Weird things?” Her cheeks were a bashful pink, lips pulled together as she grasped her hands against them.

“I don’t think I should go into too much detail,” He chuckled slightly. “But I was just scared of hurtin’ ya. Honest.”

“Well,” Lucy quickly leaned forward to peck him on the cheek. “You won’t so, I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay?”

She started back down towards the street before he could answer, the dragon looking out into the night with a shocked expression on his face. He held his cheek and turned to look at her, his eyes fixated on her hands as they rubbed her goosebump covered arms. 

“Wait!” He called out and swiftly undid his jacket. Natsu handed it off as he jogged to catch up to her. “I don’t want ya to be cold,”

“Thank you,” They shared a shy smile before turning away to head home, their hearts both warm with resolve.

[appples]

Oh, Cats (6/10)

pairing: Aizawa x Reader (OC)

genre/warning: 18+

words: 3,296

summary: An average girl with a cat quirk starting over in a new city, as typical as usual. Until it’s not. You drop into someone’s life unannounced and not necessarily wanted.

The fall cultural festival was fast approaching. Meetings began being held for the classes to decide how they were going to participate. For the most part, the students made up the bulk of the festival, but some teachers have also enjoyed participating in recent years. Midnight was running the teacher's festival meeting during their lunch break.

“I was put in charge of entertainment, but they turned my first idea down. Something about it being inappropriate for school or something. Anyways!” Midnight’s eyes began to sparkle, this wasn’t a good sign. “I’ve signed all the female teacher up for an idol show!” snapping your head around, you took count of all the teacher in the room. Midnight and you were the other female teachers. Everyone turned and stared at you.

“That’s not even the best part! We have a surprise theme planned for the show!” she was clapping with excitement. On the other hand, you were not. I have no idea how to dance, especially not like an idol. Do I have to sing? Oh, please, no. Please, no. Staring at the floor was the only thing you could do. Some more chatter happening, but it was all noise to you. A hand on your shoulder startled you out of your downward spiral. It was Midnight.

“Don’t look so worried, this is going to be great! I have some amazing costumes for us.” She smiled with more information than she was explaining. You feigned a smile, not even attempting to make it convincing.

“You’re going to love it, I promise. But I think right now you might want to get going, classes are about to start.”  She was right. You did have somewhere to be. Today was the demo you promise to help Aizawa do. You wanted to help the students more but were starting to question your intentions walking towards the gym. How was it that the leaves were already beginning to drop, weren’t the trees just budding?

You were desperately trying to distract yourself while Aizawa began to explain today’s lesson and demo.

“Nurikabe-sensei has expressed interest in being more hands-on during classes. Our demo will feature her and center around the idea of finite precision control: knowing when and how to hold back when engaged with a lower villain or vigilante.

You hated how you felt when Aizawa stared you down, the way your body reacts. The heat between your legs growing, breasts aching. Now was not the time for any of this, especially with the students watching so intently.

Aizawa made the first move, sending his capture weapon towards you. The garment was traveling in a straight line. You jumped up before it made its way around you, landing on the weapon before running the length of it to Aizawa. He turned, retracting then redeploying in search to bind you. Again, you jump, leaping forward towards your opponent's face. Claws bared, you slash at him, grazing his cheek and drawing blood. The captured weapon came back around from two sides, trapping you in its tightening grasp.

Unaware, the students were cheering you on as you continued to hold back their teacher. After your last trip off-campus, you buckled down and took a more serious attitude towards strengthening your quirk. Never again did you want to be the one who needed to be saved or someone who was more of a liability when they were there.

A hiss slipped out; fangs bared. It felt satisfying to sync with your quick, allowing it to assume control.  Aizawa smirked, pulling you in. You let your quick take over for the first time, unsure of what comes next. Your pupils begin to mutate, morphing into a cat’s eye. Hissing with more ferocity, you pull your body into itself and slink out from the capture weapon. No one saw that coming. With lightning speed, you darted from left to right, making your way closer to Aizawa. His cloth narrowly missing you each time, your speed increasing. Claws grew and sharpened, fangs bared. You leaped towards his face, stretching your body to the limits as you reach out. Ultimately you weren’t fast enough. The weapon was able to make up the difference as you jumped, ensnaring your leg. Before going down, you make one last swipe at Aizawa’s face. There he looked into your eyes and saw who you really were. Hitting the ground with a thud, you snarled and growled, slashing at the binding coming for your hand. Quickly both hands were bound together as Aizawa stood before you, smirking with that sassy smile again. The pounding of your heart pushed your quirk back down, giving you control again.

“Better than I was expecting,” he said and released you. Launching into his lesson from there, he explained the finer points of what has just happened and why.

“I think the biggest take away from this is to never underestimate an opponent you think you have figured out.” You tried not to look embarrassed. Next demonstration-Next demonstration? What does he mean by the next demonstration? We were only ever doing one. He turned to look at you,

“Did you get any of that?” You shook your head no, he sighed. “Stand up first of all. The only thing they saw was using a weapon. Not everyone has a weapon or long-range attack. We need to go over close-range combat.” Being close to him isn’t as simple as it should be. The closer you were to him physically, the more difficult it was because he became farther away emotionally. Was he trying to push you away? He won’t tell you anything about what’s happening to him or what he’s thinking, but then he shows up in the middle of the night? I don’t understand what he’s trying to say. Maybe, he doesn’t either.

“Are you ready?” standing up, you were in position.

“Ready.” Aizawa ran directly towards you, pulling out his knife as he closed in.

“Excuse me, Aizawa sensei, but I thought this was about restraint.” A student shouted from the sidelines. You dove forward meeting Aizawa, hoping to take the upper hand on impact. Ears pressed back, tail twitching, growling at your opponent, you eased into a high-pitched yowl. As you slash at Aizawa’s face, he brings up his blade to defend, deflecting your blow. Hitting the ground, you bounce back up, snarling again.  Things start to look blurry as your control starts to fade, quirk pushing you out. Again, demoted to the copilot, you watched your body turn into something else.

Aizawa came at you again, holding his weapon defensively. Your body jumped over twenty feet high. As you made the decent to your opponent, claws extend again, now coming in at twelve inches long and deadly sharp. Crossing your arms in front of your face, you slashed in an ex pattern with your growing power and the weight of gravity bearing down. The knife was knocked out of his hands as he was knocked back. Again, you slash your now weaponless opponent, tearing into his forearm, which he rose in defense. His goggles were on now. He was getting serious. Yowling he pushes you off and back.  Immediately you jump towards him, something he was counting on. He had found a flaw while you were fighting. Even with your increased speed, strength, and stamina, you were inexperienced and lacked knowledge in tactics and execution. Before you jump, he discovered you briefly pause before taking off. It wasn’t a fluid movement, leaving you vulnerable to attack. Predictably you took your pause allowing Aizawa to make his way towards you. Unable to notice as you were concentrated on leaping towards him. The jump closed the distance. Without time to react, and Aizawa delt you a finishing blow to your abdomen, forcing the air from your lungs. From there he was able to get behind you and bind your wrists.

“Don’t be afraid to take superficial damage if you can see an immediate advantage.” Aizawa faced a silent class. He was still bleeding. Looking down he saw you weren’t changing back. He had never seen you use your quirk to this extent.

“Nurikabe-sensei and I are going to see Recovery Girl. We’ll be back shortly. Class rep, you’re in charge until we get back. Put everyone into groups and review what the demos covered until we are back.”

“Yes, sensei!” The class rep proudly stood forward and got straight to work. Aizawa escorted you out of the gym.

“What's going on with you?” He continued to walk behind you while he spoke.

“It’s my quirk, something is happening to it.  I’ve been training a lot since my incident off-campus, but nothing like this has happened before. I don’t know what’s happening.” Your voice was starting to sound frantic.

“I think it should be fine.” His voice always felt so calming. “What might be happening is you can’t control your increased abilities, and they’re beginning overwhelming you.” You thought about it.

“That would make sense, but why am I not changing back?”

“I don’t have an answer for that, but Recovery Girl might be able to help there. Are you hurt at all?”

“No, I’m fine. I’m sorry about your arm and your face.”

“Don’t be sorry. I think the students took a lot from that today. I don’t remember the last time they were that quiet.” You could feel the hum in his chest from talking, your tail finding its way around his leg, gently caressing. For a brief moment, you swore, you caught a smile sneak out.

Recovery Girl was perplexed about your quirk as well but was able to reverse the lingering effects. Obviously, you still had a long way to go before you had a proper handle on your quirk. Nonetheless, you were happy to see progress.

[datheetjoella]

Fantober 2020, Day 31: Halloween

Author: DatHeetJoella Fandom: Free! Pairing: MakoHaru Rating: T Part: 31/31 (read the full collection here) Word count: 3,105 Tags: Canonverse, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Costume Party, Costume Regret Read at: AO3, FFn, or right here!

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

What had seemed to be an amazing idea initially was quickly becoming one of the greatest regrets of Haruka's life.

Between the stares, both on the train ride here and at their destination, the immobility and the goosebumps that were erupting all over his skin, Haruka concluded that living the dream was not worth it. He should've stayed home like he intended when he was first invited.

"It looks great, Haru, but isn't it a bit… inconvenient?" Asahi asked, raising his voice so Haruka could hear him above the loud bass of the music. Asahi was clad in a long white lab coat with a thick black belt, matching gloves and goggles and a grey wig to complete the mad scientist-look. If Asahi was the one disapproving of a choice he made, then Haruka screwed up really badly.

"Did Makoto carry you all the way here? Vampire-Kisumi asked, lisping through his fake fangs. "I think my uncle has a wheelbarrow you can borrow on the way back."

His friends laughed and if Haruka could stand right now, he would've strangled Kisumi. Why was Makoto taking so long to get some drinks and why had he even agreed to come here?

When they were at Marron a few weeks ago, Kisumi told them he was planning a Halloween party at his uncle's house; the Shigino family loved parties and every reason to hold one was as good as the next. But Kisumi wouldn't be Kisumi if he didn't add his own flair to a party and Halloween was the perfect occasion to go nuts.

The second Haruka heard of it, he decided he wasn't going and when Kisumi said it would be a costume party, his resolve strengthened. No matter how Kisumi pleaded, assured him it would be a small get-together with friends, tried to bribe him with a dozen cans of mackerel, Haruka wouldn't budge.

Despite not being big on parties either, Makoto had promised to come. He was a huge people-pleaser and if he was invited to something, the chances of him turning it down were very slim. It didn't sit quite well with Haruka that Makoto would be in such an environment by himself, without him being there to glare away anyone who would try to flirt with Makoto, but it wasn't like he could forbid him to go. He didn't want to, either. Makoto was an adult who was free to make his own choices and even if he could be a bit oblivious at times, their friends would be there to protect him if something happened.

But the thought lingered in Haruka's head and the closer the date came, the more he considered going. If Makoto were to outright ask him to come, then he wouldn't be able to refuse, but it didn't even get that far. When he saw the ad for the Halloween costume of his dreams, he was sold.

And that was how Haruka found himself on Kisumi's uncle's couch on October 31st, surrounded by approximately sixty people he didn't know - so much for it being a small get-together with friends - in nothing more than a mermaid tail and glittery scale-makeup adorning his cheeks and arms.

"Aren't you cold, Nanase?" his teammate, Suzuki Ryota, asked. He'd gone all out and wore a Pokémon trainer costume, complete with a Pokéball and a Pikachu plushie. "I brought an extra jacket, you can wear it if you want."

"It's fine," Haruka said through clenched teeth, trying his best not to shiver as to not admit defeat. His coat was lying somewhere in a pile in Kisumi's bedroom, but he had chosen this costume so he was going to commit to it for the whole night. That was the burden he had to carry. If only he had called the town committee back in Iwatobi and asked if they could've lent him the Iwatobi-chan mascot sumo suit. Then he would've lived a dream that wasn't as susceptible to critical stares and teasing remarks. Not being recognisable would've been a bonus too.

More people entered the room, but this time, they weren't strangers - whether it was to his delight or not wasn't clear yet. With whiskers and black noses drawn on their faces, Ikuya and Hiyori came in with matching cat-ears, collars with bells and tails. The instant Ikuya spotted him, his eyes widened in wonder and he sped over to his side with Hiyori following closely behind him.

"Ikuya, HIyori, I'm so glad you could make it!" Kisumi said, but Ikuya didn't even notice the host.

"Haru…" he mumbled, "Your costume is amazing. Where did you get it?"

"I don't know, somewhere online."

"And your makeup, did you do it yourself or did Makoto do it?"

"I did it," Haruka said. If Makoto had done it, it probably would've looked like smears of light blue blood on his face instead of scales.

"Speaking of, where is Makoto?" Hiyori asked while looking around the room. Although they hadn't become friends until recently, Hiyori had already learnt Makoto and Haruka were practically joined at the hip and thus a package-deal.

"His Highness is getting drinks for his beached boyfriend," Asahi said with a grin.

"Makoto is dressed as a prince?" Ikuya asked in disbelief, mouth slightly open and fire twinkling in his auburn eyes. "Are you The Little Mermaid and the prince?"

Kisumi said, "I suppose it's The Little Merman in Haru's case."

Haruka shrugged. It wasn't like he had specifically aimed for The Little Mermaid, but when he showed Makoto the light blue tale, Makoto had joked that they could wear couple's costumes and that he could be the prince. Only a fool wouldn't want to behold the sight of Makoto in a fancy prince suit, so that idea had received an immediate green light from Haruka.

But now, it wasn't his costume solely that he was regretting. Makoto was already too handsome for his own good normally, but this outfit enhanced his natural charm, making him damn near irresistible. Haruka was very much present now, but he couldn't do anything but watch as others tried to flirt with an unsuspecting Makoto. These people would throw themselves at him the minute he left Haruka's side as if they thought 'let's talk to this hot guy now his weird fish friend isn't here'.

Sufficient to say, Haruka dug his own grave in multiple ways.

But someone who didn't share that viewpoint was Ikuya, whose gaze drifted from Haruka's tail to his cat-clothes and his chest deflated in a manner that could only be described as envious. "How nice."

"Your costumes are very nice too," Kisumi said and the fake blood at the corners of his mouth made his smirk look even more devious than usual. "And a lot more practical."

"Yeah, but they're not as nice as Haru and Makoto's."

"Anyway, are there any snacks?" Hiyori changed the subject with a smile, though there was a clear glint of jealousy behind his glasses too. If Kisumi threw another costume party next year, Haruka would bet good money on what Ikuya and Hiyori would be wearing.

"There's a large table at the back with food and drinks," Asahi said, "Come, I'll show you."

As Asahi led Ikuya and Hiyori through the crowd, the group surrounding Haruka dispersed, leaving him alone with Kisumi. Haruka sighed. Could this night get any worse?

"Don't be so sulky, Haru," he said, "It's a party, try to have fun a little."

Haruka scoffed. "Maybe I would have fun if you had the cans of mackerel you promised me."

Kisumi laughed. "Yes, yes, I haven't forgotten about that. You'll have your cans before the end of next week, and I'll make sure I have some mackerel at my next party for you too."

His next party. As if Haruka would even attend another one of these parties after such a disastrous night. He might've been stupid enough to come here in a fishtail, but he wasn't that much of an idiot.

"To make it up to you for not having mackerel now, I'll go find Makoto for you. I'll tell him to hurry back to your side," Kisumi said, grabbing the cape of his suit and dramatically waving it around himself as he turned to walk off. This vampire-act of his was a bit too convincing. Maybe he was actually a bloodsucker.

Left to his devices, Haruka scanned the crowd to check if Makoto was among them somewhere. Who were all these people and how did Kisumi even know them? He'd been an amicable guy since middle school, but in the few months that they had lived here, Haruka had only met two, maybe three new people he would consider his friends and they were all from the swim team. With this many acquaintances, Kisumi could easily fill up twenty basketball teams.

Perhaps Kisumi was more like a spider after all. Once you got ensnared in his web of friendship, there was no way out.

At last, Makoto finally emerged from the masses and Haruka's heart sighed in relief. His golden crown was still firmly placed upon his brown locks and against his neat blue jacket, that was complete with epaulettes and a sash, he clutched two cups and a plastic plate of food. His beaming smile returned the instant their eyes met.

"Sorry it took so long," Makoto said as he plopped down next to Haruka on the couch. "All these people were trying to talk to me and I had a hard time shutting down the conversations. If it weren't for Kisumi, I'd probably still be stuck." Makoto handed him one of the cups. "Here. There isn't any water, so I got us barley tea and I didn't know what kind of snacks you wanted, so I got a little of everything."

"Thanks," Haruka said and he took a sip. "Sorry for making you do all of this for me."

"It's alright, I don't mind," Makoto said, his sunny smile not losing its radiance. "There are so many people here, though. I thought it would be just us, Asahi, Ikuya, Hiyori and maybe a couple of Kisumi's other friends."

"I guess these are only his dearest friends. If this house had been even bigger, he would've invited two-hundred of his closest friends."

Although it was hard to hear through the booming music, Makoto giggled. The warm sound melted Haruka's frigid heart a little. "Kisumi has always been that guy who gets along with everyone, huh?"

"So are you," Haruka said, as was proven by all the people who flocked to him on his way to the snacks table and back.

"Maybe so, but I do prefer an actually small group of friends together at once. Otherwise, it gets too loud and overwhelming."

Haruka nodded. He loved all his friends immensely, but if there were more than seven of them present at once - excluding Makoto - then he would go home with a massive headache and a longing for the water's clutch. Something that was bound to happen after tonight, too.

When Haruka reached over Makoto's lap to grab a handful of crisps to kill time with, Makoto's hand caught his wrist.

"Haru, you're freezing!" Makoto said, eyebrows raised in concern, "Here, take my jacket."

"It's fine, I'm not that cold," Haruka said, nonchalantly stuffing the crisps into his mouth, but Makoto saw right through his lies.

"Yes, you are." Makoto lifted the sash over his head and unbuttoned his jacket, wrapping it around Haruka's shoulders.

"This ruins both of our costumes."

"No, it doesn't," Makoto said with a clever grin, "It improves our costumes. You are a merman who I, the prince, found washed up on the shoreline behind my castle. I saved you and offered you my jacket to warm you up. It fits perfectly."

It was a nice fragment from their fairytale, but the weight pressing down on Haruka's stomach didn't crumble nor ebb away. "I shouldn't have picked this costume."

"Why not?" Makoto asked, "It looks great and it really suits you."

"Wearing it is too much trouble. Everyone is staring at me and I can't even go to the bathroom by myself."

"I understand that it's not easy to wear, but since when have you cared about what other people think?" Makoto put his hand over his free one and intertwined their fingers.

"I don't, it's just annoying…" Haruka said as he averted his eyes, but he didn't pull away from Makoto's touch. "Besides, I'm a bother to you."

Although he couldn't see it, Haruka could almost hear the frown that twisted Makoto's handsome face. "Who says you're a bother to me?"

"No one, but I am," Haruka said, "You have to carry me everywhere, you have to get us drinks and snacks and you can't have fun because you're stuck here on the couch with me. And now you even have to give up your own costume for me."

"Who says I'm not having fun?" Makoto said with his gentle smile. "I already told you that I don't mind carrying you or getting you snacks, and I'm not much of a dancer anyway so it's not like there's any other place I would be at than the couch."

Even if he said that, it still left a bitter taste in Haruka's mouth. What college student wanted to be their boyfriend's babysitter at a party? Makoto was just being selfless so he wouldn't feel bad about his ego-centric outfit choice.

"You know, I was looking forward to seeing you in your mermaid tail," Makoto said, so softly Haruka almost hadn't caught it. "So it's a shame that you're not enjoying wearing it."

"How so?" Haruka asked, turning his head to face Makoto again.

"When you saw the ad, you were so excited to wear it. Excited enough to want to come to this party even though you hate parties," Makoto said, chuckling a little in reminiscence. "It was so cute and it reminded me of when we were in kindergarten. When the teacher asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up, you immediately said you wanted to be a mermaid. I still remember how disappointed you looked when some of the other kids told you that was impossible."

A wave of nostalgia showered over Haruka at that memory. Although they were so small back then, Haruka remembered it vividly. When the teacher explained that she meant what occupation they would like to have as an adult rather than a dream species they wanted to become, he had pouted for the rest of the day. Because he liked helping his mom with cooking, he begrudgingly drew a chef instead.

"When I saw the disheartened look on your face, I wanted to make you feel better and I thought to myself that I would do anything to make your dream come true," Makoto continued, "And now, the opportunity for that dream to become reality finally arrived. I was so relieved when you decided to come because I wouldn't feel comfortable being here without you, and I felt like it was a mutual exchange: I help you out with your mermaid tail, you keep me company."

Haruka hadn't thought of it like that, but it wasn't necessary for Makoto to give something in return for him tagging along. For Makoto, Haruka would do anything, even if it was something he despised as much as going to parties with deafening music and loads of strangers.

"But even if it wasn't a mutual exchange, then I still wouldn't mind carrying you. As long as it makes you happy, I'd carry you to the end of the world and back," Makoto said, rubbing his thumb over Haruka's knuckles. "So I'm sorry to hear you're not enjoying yourself. We can go home if you want. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

A tiny smile stretched Haruka's cheeks at Makoto's endless kindness and devotion. His sweet words untied the knot in Haruka's stomach and suddenly, he didn't feel so misplaced anymore. "We already went through the trouble of dressing up and coming here, we might as well stay a little longer." Haruka shrugged, trying to regain an aloof demeanour. "It's only for one night anyway."

"Thanks, Haru," Makoto said and he leaned closer to press a kiss to Haruka's lips, but when he realised where they were, he hesitated.

Although they weren't keen on public displays of affection, there were so many people here that probably no one was batting an eye at them. A quick little kiss wouldn't hurt.

But as their lips met in a tender kiss, Haruka decided to prolong it, because there was no sign more obvious to show that Makoto was taken. With a dash of luck, some of the people who were trying to flirt with Makoto before caught a glimpse of them and received the message to back off.

After a couple of seconds, Makoto pulled back. He put his hand on Haruka's leg, caressing the fabric of his tail with his fingertips. "Even if it's a bit inconvenient because you can't move freely, the tail does look beautiful on you."

"Thanks," Haruka said as he ran his gaze over Makoto's figure. "The princely garbs look good on you too. Don't throw them out after tonight."

Hearty laughter left Makoto's lips. "Alright, if you keep your tail, too."

"Of course," Haruka said, "Maybe we can continue this fairytale later then, play out what happens after the prince finds the merman and gives him his jacket."

"That's not a bad idea," Makoto said with a flame of wanton igniting in his pupils. "We can keep these outfits for at-home usage. At the next Halloween party, we can dress up as something more convenient and conventional, like witches or cats."

"Ikuya and Hiyori already claimed cats. Maybe we should do ghosts, then we only have to cut eyes and mouth-holes out of old sheets and we're done."

"So we're going from high effort to the bottom of the barrel, huh?" Makoto snorted. "We'll think about it later, we still have 365 days left to decide. For now, let's enjoy this party and these costumes for as long as they last."

"Yeah," Haruka agreed as he grabbed a bat-cookie from the plate. But before he took a bite, he mumbled, "Thanks, Makoto."

He was blessed with another sunny smile. "Happy Halloween, Haru."

Their lips met in another kiss, that was brief yet immensely loving.

Even if Haruka got tricked into coming to a party, as long as Makoto was with him, every day was a treat.

[mightysnowflakestuff]

Fatal lies

Link to AO3

Jin Guangyao was trapped. In his own house nonetheless. Most of the guests had already left so there were few to witness his misery. A glimmer of hope filled his vision when the younger Twin Jade walked past the open living room door tailing the never stopping chatter flowing from Wei Wuxian’s mouth. However, this hope was short-lived when after a quick glance at Guangyao’s state Lan Wangji kept moving onwards but not before throwing a quick grin towards the troubled man. A grin! From Lan Wangji! Unbelievable!

As the front door clicked shut, Guangyao came to a dreadful understanding. He was trapped and there was no one to help him. Trying once more to free himself, he placed his hands flat against the soft fabric and pushed with all his might. Still, he was no match to the crushing mass on top of him.

The man groaned loudly as he lowered his head backwards against the sofa’s backrest. Was this it? He was just gonna sit here the whole night? He had a meeting to attend tomorrow morning for goodness sake! A sigh escaped the lips.

However, it didn’t belong to Guangyao.

A moment later the sky blue clothes draped over the immobilised man shifted and a pair of drowsy eyes looked up at the dark gold ones. A moment of silence passed as the heavy head rested on Guangyao’s chest but the intense gaze seemed to be full of life. Good. Maybe Guangyao didn’t have to spend the whole night sitting there in someone else’s house and later complain about his stiff back while running late to work.

Raising his only free limb, Guangyao patted the right hand on the sturdy shoulder urging the other to wake fully. “Hey. Would you move aside a bit? I gotta get up now.”

The nudging made the other man react and Guangyao felt his left arm be freed as well. Only for a pair of foreign hands to wrap themselves around him.

“No.” The grip securing him in place strengthened quite a bit leaving the smaller man borderline breathless.

Guangyao straight up stared at the fussy man on top of him. “Excuse me?”

Silky hair brushed over his torso as the older man nuzzled his head into Guangyao’s chest, not unlike an attention seeking cat. “No, you don’t.”

Of all things waking up today Jin Guangyao didn't expect that attending his new coworker’s birthday party would end like this. The birthday child squeezing the life out of him while firmly stating that actually Guangyao didn’t have to go anywhere. Ridiculous!

Golden eyes glanced at the many glasses on the low table. The closest to them was still half full. Who would have known that such a big man like Lan Xichen had such a low alcohol tolerance. Even his little brother tolerated the alcohol much more elegantly! The guy had neatly made his way towards the front door by himself even after all the shots that Wei Wuxian had personally served him. Other than that grin everything looked perf-. ...Actually, now to think about it, that facial expression was too much after all. For Lan Wangji at least.

Hah! Guangyao would have chuckled at the seemingly only weakness that could break the brothers’ usual solemn mask if only his lungs wouldn’t have been compressed at the moment. Instead, he let out a pitiful wheeze and gently attacked the others head. “Please, Xichen, I can’t breathe!”

As if only now understanding the situation, the other released a surprised gasp and instantly loosened the grip. Finally, Guangyao felt relieved with the oxygen filling up his lungs once again. Even when the arms stayed put around him. One victory at a time he guessed.

His brain being able to function properly once again, Guangyao observed the man on top of him a bit more carefully. Thanks to the alcohol Xichen’s mind seemed to be in a very different state than usual. Instead of the modest and respectful coworker he was looking at a man whose actions could be deemed as childlike even. Interesting. Guangyao decided to try another tactic.

“Did you know that I was once a fairy?” The melody of the question was light but the golden eyes gave it a chilling serious quality.

“Really?”

Guangyao met the astonishment with a pair of honest big eyes. “Yeah. Didn’t you know?”

The Lan silently shook his head, his mouth uselessly agape.  

“Mm. Yes. I got big shiny wings and wherever I flew fairy dust would always trail me.”

Nodding enthusiastically, Xichen listened intently while his eyes wandered over Guangyao with a seeming purpose. Probably looking for fairy dust because the next time he opened his mouth Xichen sounded rather disappointed.

“But I don’t see any fairy dust...”

Guangyao sighed theatrically, gaining the other’s worried attention. “In the beginning I had nothing against people wanting to touch my fancy wings or the sparkling dust. But after some time I discovered that the more hands stroked my wings the more damaged they became.” Looking to his side then, Guangyao put on a hurt expression that Xichen couldn’t help but cradle in one of his hands.

“I asked people to stop touching my wings but they didn’t understand why they should as before I’d allowed them to do so. In the end, my fairy dust vanished alongside my wings...”

The thumb that had been stroking Guangyao’s cheek stopped abruptly and a moment later Xichen sat up freeing Guangyao in the process. Tears started pouring from his terrified eyes before they were hidden behind a pair of quivering hands.

“I destroyed your wings! Because of me you can never fly again!!”

Guangyao watched the grown up man cry over his coworker’s lost wings and sighed deeply. What an evening. Still, even though he was free now and able to go home he couldn’t dare to leave Xichen in such a state. Who knew what the man could do while still influenced by alcohol.

Therefore, Guangyao stood up but lowered his hand on Xichen’s back to rub reassuring circles there. “It’s all right.”

“No it’s not!” The shout had been unexpected and left Guangyao gaping at the now red eyed face looking up in his direction. He hadn’t intended for his obvious lie to wreck Xichen that much!

“You told me to move but I didn’t! And now you have no wings or fairy dust! It’s all because of me! I’m such an awful person!”

Guangyao hadn’t definitely expected such a reaction. Making a mental note to never let Xichen drink again if he could help it, Guangyao bowed down a bit to see the devastated man face-to-face and took a hold of the broad shoulders.

“Hey. It’s really alright. Look at my face. I’m smiling.” With some effort, Xichen dared to look the other in the eye and then moved his gaze downwards to the widely smiling lips. Assessing them a bit, the Lan looked up again with his sad eyes though the tears had stopped flowing now. “But you can’t fly anymore. Because of me...”

Before the tall man could drown into his own tears once again, Guangyao shook the shoulders still in his grasp and stated firmly. “Yes. I can’t fly. But I don’t need to fly! There are so many options for me to choose from! I can take a bus or train or even call a taxi! Or you could give me a lift with your car when I’m in need, right?”

Evaluating all the possibilities available for Guangyao, Xichen finally started to calm down before he nodded decisively. “Yes. I can give you a lift!”

“That’s good to hear.” Guangyao smiled, this time less widely but more sincerely because the situation seemed to be solved for now. “But not today,” he added, back still bowed downwards. “Today I want to go home by myself and you promise me that you will go to sleep now.”

For a moment it seemed that Xichen was about to argue but then he probably remembered the earlier story and decided to honour Guangyao’s decision. “Alright. I promise.”

Relieved, Guangyao closed his eyes for a moment before giving the forehead before him an approving peck. “Good. I’ll see myself out now.” Wide eyes followed him as a hand slowly rose to touch the spot where Guangyao’s praise had landed.

Before disappearing behind the corner, Guangyao looked back for a moment before continuing on his way with a tiny smirk gracing his features. He was very curious how much of this his coworker would remember tomorrow.

[bugabash]

Cursed past

When the past is changed the only people who can help Adrien and Marinette defeat the new villain are themselves, just not from their time. The seasoned superheroes will need to teach their younger selves everything they know before the time runs out or else life as they know it will cease to exist. Love is blossoming, trust is strengthened, and the true power of their miraculouses will be revealed. 

Ao3

Chapter 1: The beginning of Change 

“Bunnix,” Master Fu stood there in shock, looking at the older miraculous holder, a sinking feeling cooling his blood, “why are you here?”

“Master Fu, something is going to happen.” Bunnix stated seriously, with a hint of fear, “where are Minibug and kitty noir?”

oOo

Marinette stepped into the shower, feeling the warmth travel down her body, sighing in relief, the warmth soothing the old aches and pains she had gained after 12 years of being ladybug. She started washing her hair and was rinsing when she heard the front door open downstairs, smiling to herself she waited for her husband’s voice.

“GOOOOD EVENING BUGABOO!” Adrien called from downstairs cheerfully, causing Marinette to giggle and her butterflies were set off. Four years of marriage and he greeted her the same each night when he finally got home from the office. She heard him bounding up the stairs like an eager kitten as she turned off the water. Stepping out she was immediately wrapped up in a warm towel from behind, a 6”3 Adrien nuzzling her neck and purring softly. “How is my lady this evening?”

“Pretty good, how is my kitty?” She asked, turning in his arms and looking up at him, smiling lovingly.

“I’m purrfect now that I’m home and I can see your adorable smile.” He smirked, looking down into her sapphire blue eyes. “I’m gonna hop in the shower and then I will meet you in bed. Sorry again about the late night, but I am ready for cuddles in bed and a movie marathon.” He said, a mischievous grin over taking his face and he wriggled his eyebrows at her, causing her to roll her eyes and chuckle.

“Easy there kitty,” Marinette winked, standing on her tip toes and kissing his slightly stubbly, chiselled chin. “I will see you in bed.” She giggled, dodging another hug and padded into their room.

She smiled as she started putting on her creams, god she loved him, she counted her lucky blessings every day for him, he was her backbone after the battle, nursed her back to health and even when he was suffering he was there holding her up. She sighed and finished drying off, musing her short hair in the mirror, the ends already drying. She pulled on one of Adrien’s shirts, it hung to her midthighs, baggy on her, his smell enveloping her in a safety net.

Tikki and Plagg were fast asleep on their little nests of blankets Marinette had made for them, Plagg’s leg twitching as he snored. Marinette smiled and stroked Tikki’s head gently, thanking her with a stroke like she did every night. Without her, Marinette wouldn’t be here, well if she was going to talk like that she wouldn’t be here without Adrien and Plagg either. She looked at the kwamis one more time before she went downstairs to lock all the doors and turn off all the lights. She bolted the front door and peaked out the window, a feeling of uneasiness coming over her suddenly.

No one was out there. She knew it, but she couldn’t help the feeling causing her blood to run cold. As if he could sense her uneasiness Adrien headed down the stairs two as a time, coming to her side and his presence like a warm blanket over her shoulders. His brows furrowed, wet blonde hair dripping water onto his bare shoulders, and his mouth screwed into a slight scowl as he looked out the window. God he was gorgeous, blushing slightly she straightened up, focus Marinette!

“Are you ok?” He asked softly, turning his attention back to her, stroking her cheek gently. “She isn’t out there, you know that. And neither is he. They’re gone, they are powerless, and they won’t hurt us ever again, especially you.” He reassured her, bending down slightly as he looked into her eyes, his emeralds full of love and worry. Marinette looked away guiltily, she knew he was right, but it was something else.

She looked out the window again, she blinked when she thought she saw someone looking back from the bushes across the road at her, but she shook it off, doubting her instincts again. “I thought I… Never mind. You’re right, let’s go to bed.” She shrugged the feeling off, closing the curtain and heading up, Adrien turning off the lights and looked out the window again, his eyes searching to reassure himself if anything then following close on her tail.

She couldn’t help but wonder if there was going to be an akuma attack, there hadn’t been one in almost 3 years, she wasn’t sure how it would go if there was one. They were always prepared, training constantly and patrolling every weekend, practising as they unlocked more of their abilities. But they hadn’t fought an akuma in almost 3 years or so now. If she were being honest with herself, Marinette was terrified to fight another akuma, merely for fact that it would mean that another Hawkmoth or Painted Mistress. 

After their last fight with an evil miraculous holder almost killed them she hasn’t been able to even imagine fighting like that again. Coming out of her daydream and her thoughts she noticed Adrien was already in bed, watching her with concerned eyes. She smiled at him, seeing him there, shirtless, baring his scars that always made her wince internally with guilt. It was her fault he had them in the first place. She shook off the feelings quickly, taking a deep breath and felt Adrien’s love replace all the bad feelings.

She finally padded her way to the bed, slipping under the thick covers and into Adrien’s waiting arms. He bundled her up in his strong arms, kissing the top of her head lovingly, sending goose bumps over her skin. She giggled softly as he started kissing her all over her face, deciding to take control and captured his lips, feeling that smirk on his face. “Well hello there, Mrs Agreste, feeling safer in my big, strong, muscular arms?” He growled teasingly, flexing his bicep as she laughed before silencing her giggles with his hungry kisses, pulling her closer and pushing the baggy shirt up her soft body with a smirk.

oOo

It was around 3am, the house was dark and silent, the clock ticking quietly on the kitchen wall. Marinette and Adrien were sound asleep, his wife draped over Adrien’s bare chest, snoring softly, mouth agape. Adrien slept soundly, one arm around Marinette’s bare back and the other draped over his forehead. It was a normal night, nothing exciting had happened like things used to when there were akumas about, but they still had their instincts and they were ready for anything. Adrien felt the rush go down his spine, his eyes flying open just before the bright light appeared. Marinette gasped as she woke up, Adrien grabbing the blankets and pushing her off him and hid her behind his back in one swift movement of his strong arm, covering them both with the blanket. The giant, round, white light looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite remember. The feeling he had earlier coming back in full force. Fuck, he needs to trust his instincts more, especially when Mari had it too!

“Adrien! What’s going on!?” Marinette cried from behind him, clinging to his shoulder, pressing against him as much as possible. He glanced back at her, making sure she was covered, his own posture on the defence, ready to protect his wife no matter the cost. His head snapped back to the bright light in front of them, growling low in his chest, grinding his teeth together and narrowing his eyes. Their kwamis woke with a start and flew over to them, hiding behind Adrien’s broad back as well, waiting to see if they need to transform or not.

“Calm down, Kitty, no one is going to hurt your bug.” A familiar voice said, making Adrien blink and grip the blankets tighter. A figure stepped through, Adrien’s eyes widened, and he felt a lump gather in his chest. Marinette gasped and dug her nails into his skin, causing him to wince.

“B-Bunnix??” She cried out, covering her eyes from the blinding light.

  “You two may want to cover up, I’m not alone.” She stated simply, looking them up and down with a raised brow.

Adrien just stared at her, mouth agape, his eyes wide and his brows raised. He suddenly felt a bit self-conscious; they were both naked and Marinette was completely covered but his bare chest was in full view. He was about to pull the blankets up more when two figures stumbled in, and like that the white light disappeared, both figures panting, the taller figure holding up the smaller figure. They stumbled to the wall and Adrien blinked at the new darkness, narrowing his eyes to make out something, and that’s when he saw it. The ears. His eyes widened and he quickly reached over and turned on his lamp, returning to his position and hiding Marinette behind him even more.

They both gasped, their hearts stopping, their blood running cold, and dread filled them both. Tikki and Plagg zoomed up, their own eyes wide as they stared at the two injured teenagers before them.

Standing in front of them, panting and clinging to each other were Ladybug and Chat noir, bloody and bruised, soot covering their body and faces. They looked young, maybe them at 18 years old, and when the two younger versions of themselves looked up at them both their eyes widened, gasping at the same time and freezing. Then Adrien covered up quicker than he ever had, making sure Marinette was extra covered as she hid her face in his back.

“Chat Noir? Ladybug?” Marinette asked, lifting her face from Adrien’s back peaking over his shoulder, “Bunnix… What’s going on? Why are they here? And when are they from?” She almost screeched, “What the fuck!”

“We need your help,” Bunnix finally said, looking back and forth between the younger and older versions. “Something has changed in our past, someone we defeated has come back but they have gone to the past. They,” referring to the injured heroes, “aren’t going to be able to stop them, not alone.” Marinette and Adrien glanced at each other in shock, then back at Bunnix, actively ignoring the heroes. “If you don’t help us, nothing will be the same ever again.” With that Marinette sighed and dropped her head against Adrien’s back, groaning against his skin while Adrien carried on looking dumbfoundedly at the scene in front of him. He took in a deep breath, his brain trying to keep up with all this information at once.

“Fuck.”

oOo

8 years ago

They were both coughing, the taste of soot coating their tongues which made them cough more. Ladybug was injured, badly enough that she was fully relying on Chat Noir to support her and to help her walk. He looked down at her, an ugly gash stood out on her cheek, blood mixed with soot covered the side of her jaw and down her neck to her suit. Her brows were furrowed in pain and she clung to Chat Noir in their hiding place.

“M’lady, you need to let me look at your wound. You’re bleeding pretty badly, and not just from your cheek.” He said gently, cupping her injured cheek slightly, his heart stopping briefly as she winced in pain. He couldn’t see her like this, he never wanted to see her like this. HE has to protect her, he can’t let anything happen to her. His anger grew even more as she just shook her head, curling her arm around her injured stomach even more.

How did everything go so wrong, how did all this chaos happen so suddenly? How did they fuck up so bad? And who the fuck was the new villain who just showed up!? He groaned and leant back against the wall, pulling Ladybug closer into his chest.

“It’ll be okay, Kitty. We always make it out of these situations.” Ladybug whispered, resting her head on his chest and closing her eyes, starting to shiver as her energy from the suit was fading more and more, which meant more and more pain was trickling in. He had to get her somewhere safe, she needed to detransform so he could look at her wounds but he knew she wouldn’t do that, and he knew once all the power from her suit was gone she would be in excruciating pain. He looked back down at her, frowning at how she gripped him tighter. He then also looked down at himself, his forearm was exposed and covered in burns, it stung slightly but his suit was a lot better at absorbing the pain, destruction was his speciality, and he was used to taking the majority of the hits. But he had let down his lady, he wasn’t able to get in front of her in time, and now look at her. He knew there were other injuries, but he couldn’t think about that now, he needed to stay in charge for his Lady. He needed to keep her safe, even if he died doing it.

That was when the light appeared, he winced and covered his eyes before blinking up at the woman before him, recognizing her immediately. “Bunnix! What are you doing here? Ladybug needs help!” Chat Noir exclaimed, shaking Ladybug who looked up with wide eyes.

“Calm down kitten, I’m here to take you to safety. There has been a problem, this isn’t meant to be happening.” She said, bending down and looking worriedly at Ladybug who was even more pale now. “Whoever is here isn’t from your time, and he has altered this reality, it hasn’t affected the future, well hasn’t yet anyway.” She shrugged nervously, “I know what we need to do.” She explained, looking at Ladybug’s wound on her cheek, worry all over her face. “Can you walk?” She asked softly, Ladybug nodded, with Chat’s help they were both on their feet again. “Stay together, mini bug you stay awake, no passing out on my watch.” She said before the white light appeared again.

Chat looked at the light, feeling very confused, but he didn’t have much time to feel anything else when a crash happened behind them. He jumped and swung his head around seeing flames in the distance from an explosion, guilt filling him, holding Ladybug closer, hearing her gasp and whimper made him snap out of it and look back down at her. She needs help. Now! “Whatever we are doing we need to do it fast! Before that asshole finds us and turns us into a barbeque appetiser!” Chat shouted, the small bridge above them rattling from the explosion, dust falling around them.

Bunnix nodded and stepped through, Ladybug looked up at Chat with raised brows. They heard Bunnix talking softly but couldn’t make out the words. “Come on.” He whispered, and stepped forward, but as he did, he felt a new pain shoot up his leg, causing him to trip towards the light.

He needed to think fast, arms going around his lady and he aimed to land on his feet once he was through the light. They stumbled through into darkness, hitting the wall with a grunt, panting heavily as Ladybug clung to him. He looked around, noticing the quietness, no more sounds of screaming, of raging fires and of destruction. All he heard was a clock in the distance, and he could hear breathing in front of him. He blinked away the blurriness of his vision, thankful for his night vision.

They were in a large bedroom which was decorated nicely, a half made violet dress in the corner on a mannequin, a large flat screen T.V. on the wall which was framed by photos around the wall of the tv, smiling faces of friends together who looked like older versions of his friends. Weird. One picture caught his eye, but he couldn’t make it out fully, a blonde women was standing with a blonde man in a tux, but before he could look at their faces he felt Ladybug wince, making him snap his head down to look at her. His eyes turned to the bed in front of them, his eyes landing on whoever owned this bedroom. Once his eyes met the green eyes he froze, his heart stopping at who was there.

Broad, defined shoulders, bare chest littered with scars, the main one was a thick gash over his heart where a tattoo lay under it, disfigured but he could make it out. A black cat, green eyes blazing, the effects like watercolour but with black coming from the sides. It looked like his cataclysm. His muscular arm was outstretched keeping the woman hidden behind him, noticing he had another thick scar on his left forearm. His eyes full of confusion, and a glaze of protectiveness was the most prominent feature, eyes searching the dark, his posture also showing he was ready to attack to protect this woman. His eyes searched his face, jaw defined more than it was now for himself, all baby weight he had in his face when he was younger was gone. He looked like he was in his late 20’s, built ready for a fight, Chat guessed he was still fighting crime so he would need to have those muscles.

Chat felt his heart pounding, knowing Ladybug would feel it, she raised her head, looking over at the bed as well. Adrien suddenly moved, quick as a cat the light was turned on and he was back to covering the woman even more. Chat blinked as he adjusted, eyes finally landing on the blue hair poking from behind Adrien’s back. Who was that? Was that Ladybug? Wait, was he in bed naked with LADYBUG? He blinked and looked down at ladybug, blushing furiously. But when he saw her face he froze, following her gaze. Her eyes were wide, mouth agape, cheeks furiously red under the blood and soot. Looking back at the couple, Chat noir felt his heart leap into his throat.

MARINETTE??

“Chat noir? Ladybug?” Marinette asked silently, “Bunnix… What’s going on? Why are they here? And when are they from?” She was almost screeching now, “What the fuck!”

Bunnix started speaking but Chat had gone deaf, staring at Marinette as she peaked her head up, her blue eyes so familiar, her freckles on her pale skin the exact same. Oh god! She’s naked! He screamed internally, seeing his naked, albeit covered up, friend pressed against his older self’s back was something he wasn’t expecting, not at fucking all. What the actual fuck!? Marinette looked older too, but her face still looked so youthful, no lines anywhere, her soft hair was messy and it was short, the length just past her ears in a layered bob, her fringe still the same, he could only see her head and a bit of her neck as she hid, she looked tiny compared to his older self, she looked the same size as Marinette did back home. She was only 5”6, he felt like a giant next to her, just like he did with ladybug to be truthful. And that’s when he noticed the ring on Adrien’s ring finger. Married?? What was going on here? He was married to Marinette? What about Ladybug?

Chat Noir shifted and held Ladybug a little firmer, she was still staring, ignoring everything going on, blood dripping onto the hard wood floor, causing him to gasp and snap his head back to the grownups.

“Ladybug is hurt, can you help her!?” Chat asked desperately after he heard Adrien swear and drop his head into a hand. Adrien’s head shot up and eyes went to Ladybug with the same look chat noir always had when ladybug was injured, Chat noticing him grip onto the blankets tighter. Was he still like that with Ladybug? Even though he was with Marinette? There were too many questions going on in his head, he needed to focus!

“Yes, take her through to the lounge downstairs and put her on the couch, I will be right out.” Marinette said sternly, Chat nodded and lifted Ladybug bridal style, hurrying to the other room, placing her down. His head was spinning as he sat next to her and looked down at her as she starred up at the roof.

“What the fuck is going on?” Chat whispered to her, rubbing his eyes with his palms, his dirty blonde hair falling over his forehead and eyes.

Ladybug was silent for a while before she finally spoke, “I don’t know why we are getting help for them, Bunnix said only they could help… I just… I just don’t understand…” Chat looked at her, worried. “And they’re… It’s… Adrien…” She whispered, squeaking his name, making chat blink and raise his brows, dropping his hand from his forehead and looking at her in shock.

“W-what do you mean by that? M-Marinette was there too, not just Adrien. And, uh, she was…” He choked on the word naked, “bare… too.” He said rubbing the back of his neck blushing brightly, glancing at her and then the stairs, hearing hushed talking from the other room, someone sounded angry, he guessed it was his older self. He would be too if someone walked in on him while he was naked with his wife, even if his wife was his friend… Marinette. She was such a good friend, how did this happen?

“Yeah, but… that’s Adrien!” She exclaimed, “…With Marinette…” Chat raised an eyebrow and looked down at her again, seeing her expression reminded him suddenly of how Marinette looked like when she had finally lifted her head. No, that is just a coincidence… There is no way… Is ladybug…?

He couldn’t finish that thought as he was pulled away from ladybug by strong hands, he squeaked, and looked at his older self. He was dressed in a baggy white shirt and red pyjama bottoms. And he looked pissed. “Come on. I’m cleaning you up.” Chat gulped at his tone, looking back at Ladybug he saw Marinette bent over her, she was in a strappy pink top and shorts. It was only a glance, but Chat could see the large scar down her spine, thick and jiggered, but what really caught his eye was the tattoo she had at the base of her spine. A small red ladybug. No... It couldn’t be… Before he could finish the thought again, he was tugged out of the room and away from his lady.

As he was dragged away his breath quickened, he was starting to panic. Why? What is going the fuck on?

“Calm down!” Adrien hissed in a hushed voice as he noticed Chat was starting to panic, taking Chats shoulders in his hands and stopped him, chat looked up at him, Adrien was only a few inches taller than Chat but he felt like a kid looking at his adult self. He then realised he needed his older self now, just like he would need an older brother. “Just breathe, and detransform, it’s going to be ok, alright kid?” He said plainly, motioning to the seat at the kitchen island. Adrien wandered off further into the kitchen, leaving Chat alone. He took a deep breath and released his transformation, the pain and exhaustion hitting him like a bus. The next thing he remembered was waking up to a scream that turned his blood to ice and his own older face looking down at him with concern, eyes wide, saying his name and looking him over. Ladybug!

oOo

After the kids had left the room, Bunnix smiled sheepishly at the married couple in their bed, ignoring Adrien’s daggers piercing her with his eyes.

“So, uh, I’m gonna turn around while you two love birds put on some pants,” Bunnix chuckled, turning around. Adrien carried on glaring at her but hopped out of bed and pulled on his red pj trousers and the shirt Marinette was wearing earlier in lightning speed. Marinette got into her normal pjs as well, his eyes never left Bunnix’s back, his mind racing. His mind really just going around the fact that there were two injured teenagers almost on deaths door bleeding out on their couches downstairs, and the fact they would find out each other’s identities now, this was not an ideal situation at all. He couldn’t calm his mind. And he was angry.

“What,” he breathed, Bunnix turning around nervously, “the FUCK!” He yelled angrily, their kwamis hiding behind Marinette. “Why the fuck are they here? It’s 3 in the morning, and what the hell happened to them? You were supposed to keep an eye on the past for anything different! Explain! Now!”

Bunnix stuttered at first, but found her words, rubbing her hands nervously together, “look, I know it’s a really shit situation, but you don’t understand, something big has happened.” She explained, Marinette walked over to the seething Adrien, placing a calming hand on his arm, looking up at him. “He’s back.” Bunnix stated simply. A statement that made both Adrien and Marinette freeze and look at Bunnix in a mixture of shock and pure terror.

“No… He can’t be back, he’s in prison! I took his miraculous!” Marinette exclaimed, running over to the ottoman and pulling it open, the miraculous box revealing itself to her, she took it out and opened it, her blood running cold as she saw 3 miraculous jewels were gone. “What… how…”

Adrien walked over and stared at the box with wide eyes, how could three be missing? He knew exactly which ones too, the butterfly miraculous standing out the most, his blood freezing. The fox miraculous was gone and so was the peacock miraculous. Adrien knew how bad this was. “I need to make a call.” He said before turning and grabbing his phone, getting the contact up and ringing them, walking away from the girls.

“Alix, how bad is this?” Marinette asked softly, looking over at her old friend, her face paled in comparison to normal.

“I’m not gonna lie Nettie, its worse than I could have ever imagined.” Alix stated, not even looking at Marinette. “The city was on fire… people were dead, Marinette, I saw… He is older, he is more powerful, and he has fully unlocked all the powers of the miraculouses he has.” She shook her head, “I didn’t know what to do…”

“How? We haven’t even fully unlocked ours!” Marinette exclaimed as she started to pace, “Are you sure it is even him? Did you see him?”

“No, but who else would do that?” Alix replied, shaking her head, “It was his trademark destruction, but whoever it is, whether it is him or not, we need you! The kids can’t fight this!”

Marinette rubbed her face vigorously, “I thought we couldn’t go back? I thought they couldn’t come here! What the fuck!”

“By him going back he has created a different past!” Alix explained, walking over to Marinette, glancing nervously at Adrien who was glaring at her again on the phone. “But it caused a ripple, their past and our present are starting to fuse, which means eventually their past will become ours, and half of Paris is dead in their past!”

“So, if they are dead what can we do?” Adrien stated, walking back over and throwing his phone onto the bed, Plagg settling on his shoulder. “Why bring them to us on their fucking death beds?”  

“Because we need them to know what’s happened to understand how to stop it all! This is going to get complicated, so let me worry about time and you just focus on the kitten and mini bug.” Alix replied sternly, opening her stopwatch briefly, and snapping it shut again.

Adrien sighed, his face stone, “we need to go deal with the children bleeding out on my mother’s couch.” He said plainly, storming downstairs to see his younger self talking to a very shocked Ladybug. He grabbed his younger self by the shoulders and easily picked him up to standing, leading him into the kitchen. “Come on. I’m cleaning you up.” Right now, he needed to fix him up and then get them resting.

God why was this happening. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he only just noticed the hyperventilating 19 year old injured chat noir breaking down, fuck, he needs to help him. He grunted and rolled his eyes at himself, walking over and holding his shoulder.

“Calm down.” He stated clearly, looking into the scared boy’s eyes. “Just breathe, and detransform, it’s going to be ok, alright kid?” He motioned to the chairs at the kitchen island, turning to grab one of the many extensive first aid kits that Marinette stored around the house. He saw the green flash and then a few seconds later he heard a hard thump.

He sighed, looked up at the roof and cursed God out again before running over to his younger self. The boy was out cold on his side, Adrien sighed and lay him on his back, “Adrien, wake up! Adrien!” He repeated and examined the boy with pure worry and concern all over his face. He was badly banged up, burns all over his body and cuts that were filthy, he looked like he had been strangled too, angry purple bruises showing up on his neck and collar bone.

The young lad was dressed in a grey t-shirt and plaid green and black pj trousers, that were ripped. He must have transformed while fighting to let Plagg rest and got into a scuffle. His right eye was swollen and bruised black, that must have happened when he was in his civilian form too. God, what happened to these kids? It reminded him so much of his and Marinette’s battle 3 years ago. And that took months to recover from, not just physically, but mentally too. Even now he saw the fear and the pain in Marinette’s eyes.

That was when the scream caused both Adrien’s to jump, the kid’s eyes flying open, Adrien looked at him in worry and before he could say anything he was pushed off and into of the chairs, falling onto his back. He blinked and watched as his younger self jumped to his feet in lightning speed, running to where the screaming was from.

“Oh, for fuck sake!” Adrien cursed before jumping up and following suit, he ran in to see a Marinette he hadn’t seen in almost 8 years now, screaming in pain, blood everywhere. His stomach dropped, but seeing his younger self run to his lady’s side made him look over at his wife who looked terrified.

She needed him.

He walked over and wrapped an arm around her. She immediately curled into his chest, she was shaking softly, he knew what was going on in her head, and he felt powerless. What were they going to do?

oOo

Adrien… it was naked Adrien. Adult, married, scarred Adrien hiding older her behind him. What… She needed to talk to Tikki. And holy hell was he... sexy! No, you can’t think like that!

Chat was suddenly gone, and she had never felt more alone, panic building inside her. The black figure was replaced by her older self and Bunnix. Her older self had short layered hair, slightly longer on one side, she was wearing a strappy pink top and a pair of pink shorts. She guessed that even in her 20s she still liked pink, she thought with a chuckle.

“Marinette, sweetie, detransform, the boys are gone.” Marinette whispered gently, stroking her face softly, her brows screwed together in concern. Ladybug nodded and let her transformation release, another Tikki flying in and catching her Tikki and carrying her off somewhere. The pain was excruciating, it hit her like a bus, and she let out a blood curdling scream. She was in her pjs as well, but they were slowly soaking in blood, torn and slightly burnt from when she needed to recharge and was attacked. She had a gash on her stomach from being hit with the villain’s sword, she had a burn on her shoulder and her gash on her face was bleeding and needed a deep clean.

As she was screaming because oh God the pain! Older Marinette and Bunnix were holding her arms down, them telling her to calm down and to stop moving reaching deaf ears. She was in so much pain and in so much shock she didn’t see the 19 year old Adrien covered in soot and blood run in and push them out of the way, dropping to his knees and cupping Marinette’s face, yelling for her to look at him and to calm down. She finally saw him and grabbed onto his arms, her screams turning into sobs as she finally heard his words. 

Adrien!?

“Marinette! Calm down! I’m here! I’m here! It’s ok! It’s ok! I’m here! I’m not going anywhere I promise!” He told her, his eyes wide and his eyebrows screwed up in pure fear and concern. His eye was bruised and swollen, his lip badly cut, and his neck had a bruise from where he was strangled briefly. “Its ok! It ok, m’lady!” He whispered gently, stroking her tears away and smiling small. That’s when it hit her, he was her kitty, and only he could calm her down. She grabbed his arms tighter and pulled him closer, clinging to him and burying her head in his neck, sobbing and crying out in pain. He held her tight, stroking her hair and whispering sweet nothings to her, telling her it was going to be ok, making small jokes and comments to make her smile, until she went limp in his arms, the adults moving quick as soon as she did, pulling her from his arms as he looked on in shock.

oOo

“Marinette…” Adrien whispered softly, he was sitting their in his underwear on a chair in the kitchen. His older self was currently treating his burns and other wounds. He was silent while doing it, glancing up at Adrien when he spoke.

“Yup.” He replied, “it was a shock for me too when I found out, but after a few minutes it made a lot of sense. Doesn’t it?” He stated with a shrug, picking debris from the burn. “Who out of all our friends, hell out of anyone we know, who cares more about others than her? Who always disappeared during an attack? Who hasn’t been akumatised once?” Hearing those words made everything click into place, he was right, it was always Marinette. He loved Ladybug for years, even when he was with Kagami, and he was desperate to figure out who the love of his life was, and it was someone he saw as just a friend. But in that moment, he saw her for everything she was, it was like a light was turned on.

“Easy there tiger, just because you two know each other’s identities now doesn’t mean you will end up together.” His older self stated with a raised brow.

“How come?” Adrien asked, wincing as a piece of glass was pulled from his skin, “you’re married to her! And you’re me, so technically we end up together.” He smirked, knowing he was right.

“Wrong.” Older Adrien replied with a laugh, “does this look like something we have experienced before?” He asked gesturing to everything around him and to his younger self, “because I have never seen my older self, and I don’t have any burns.” He stated simply. “I may be older you, but your future isn’t mine. Your future has changed, catnip.”

Adrien thought it over before lifting his head when he was told to, wincing as alcohol was rubbed on his bruised neck. “How did you find out? You know, about her identity.”

This made Adrien look harder at what he was doing, glancing briefly up at his younger self.

“It’s not a very… happy story.” He stated, “it was completely by accident, and if I’m honest, it almost broke our partnership up.” This made Adrien raise his brows and widen his eyes, how? How could knowing that almost destroy them? “You see, I was seeing someone, and so was she briefly, I never saw her that way but for some reason I was… jealous of Luka and her, they were so happy, such a perfect fit, but…” He sighed, “I didn’t like them together. I thought I was doing the right thing as a friend but now I know I was just being selfish and a bad friend.”

Adrien was confused, their pasts really were different, he only briefly dated Kagami and Marinette never dated Luka, not that he knew of. “What did you do?”

“I told her straight, I didn’t like her with him and that she could do better. Bearing in mind I was 18, last year of school before we were out in the real world, I think I was just scared of losing her to Luka. She… she didn’t react well, she didn’t show up to school for a week, Alya knocked me on my ass and Kagami was so angry that I had said that, saying I obviously had feelings for Marinette otherwise I wouldn’t have said anything. She broke up with me that day.” Adrien chuckled, shaking his head, his eyes never leaving what he was bandaging. “Little did I know it was the best thing to happen to me. But everyone was angry at me, well everyone but Luka, he was older, he didn’t let much phase him and he just said he wasn’t surprised I said it, because he knew before I did.”

“Surely if you just spoke to Marinette, it would be ok?”

“I tried,” he stated with a laugh, “she refused to see me, so I visited her as Chat, like I usually did. And boy, did she have a mouthful for the boy who wronged her and broke her heart.” He pinned the bandage that was around Adrien’s neck, and looked into his eyes, “you know what could hurt a girl more than what I did?” He asked, Adrien shaking his head in a reply, “letting her rant about you to you without her knowing it’s actually you, because when she eventually discovers who you are, it is not pretty. It’s like a violation in trust.” He sighed, a small smile on his face.

“But it was a week later, Marinette had broken up with Luka, she was meant to go travelling with him for a year before she started her internship at my company but decided against it. I never asked the reason because I kind of knew the reason. But we were on patrol when this akuma attacked, it was like no other, it was hours of fighting, we had to detransform 10 times just to get this akuma down, but, once we did we were so exhausted that we could barely walk.”

He leant against the kitchen table, looking off into he distance, crossing his arms over his chest, “the protectiveness I had over that girl, boy it was like lava in my veins, you know? It kept me going. I didn’t know who this girl was behind that mask but,” he paused, “I would die for her.” He looked over at his younger self, seeing the look of understanding. “We got to shelter, her miraculous ladybugs healed most of our wounds but not our fatigue, we ended up on the Eiffel Tower, hiding from everyone, we had collapsed to the floor, both too tired to care. We knew it was going to happen, and we couldn’t do anything about it. But before we could even consider it, we were out cold.” He chuckled as if the memory was a silly dream, walking back over to the young cat and dabbed his eye gently. “We woke up… both in our civilian form.” His eyes darkened, “the hurt I saw in her eyes, she knew I had no clue who she was when I visited, not knowing it was my partner, but she knew that I had hurt her, then used chat noir to go see her and in her eyes get information from her.”

“Ouch,” Winced the younger boy, both at the pain and the thought of being in that situation.

“She lost all trust in me in that moment, what was worse was I saw it in her eyes. It took us almost 2 months to finally talk about it, we lost our partnership, we almost lost everything.” He finished up and was happy with his work it seemed, handing Adrien a shirt and pair of trousers. “But eventually we got it back, and our partnership was stronger than ever, and the miraculous connection was activated, and as they say, the rest was history.” He chuckled, putting away the first aid kit and dumping the bloody rags in the bin.

“Miraculous connection?” The younger boy asked, “what is that?”

His older self looked over at him, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, as if he knew he had said something he shouldn’t have. “You will find out soon enough, I'm sure. Now get changed, that's enough of a history lesson. Take these and meet me back in the lounge.” He stated, placing two pain meds on the counter with some orange juice before walking into the lounge. Leaving his younger self to his thoughts.

Adrien looked at the pills in front of him, his mind racing. He thought over the story he had just heard over and over, would it effect Marinette and him? Would their partnership suffer? He was lucky they had a strong friendship. He took the pills and pulled on the clothes, wincing as he did, looking at himself and sighed. He was messed up badly, but lucky he healed quickly.

He took a deep breath and sighed heavily, he was scared. He was actually terrified, Marinette needed him. Marinette… That felt so weird to say instead of Ladybug, so much had happened today, and he just wanted to sleep. But he needed to make sure Marinette was safe first.

He stood up and walked through to the lounge, not sure what to expect, last he saw when he went in there was Marinette screaming, and his heart dropped at the memory. He remembered walking out, his suspicions of Ladybug being Marinette confirmed. He paled at the memory of her, blood soaking her clothes, her face convulsed in pain and tears. He remembered the fear that caused his blood to turn to ice. He shook his head, getting rid of the memory.

He looked up, Marinette was awake now staring up at the ceiling, she was bandaged up, but he blushed furiously as she was just in a sports bra and her underwear. Bandages covered most of her body. He averted his gaze and looked over at his older self, almost for guidance. He looked back at him and nodded towards the other room.

He headed towards there, being stopped by his older self, “go and sleep, we will bring Marinette in when we are done patching her up.” He stated simply, patting Adrien on the back. Adrien nodded and headed to the room up the stairs, his legs carrying him even though he wasn’t thinking. He climbed into the soft bed and as soon as his head hit the pillow darkness took over, numbing everything and he accepted the darkness like an old friend.

[itsuki-minamy]

“TAPIOCA”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

There is a lot of fashion in the world, as for the trend of sweets for young people, there is plenty of room for turbulent "tricks". Quickly disseminate information through a SNS, create a new flow of assets and funds, and interact with an unspecified number of people in the form of "mobile stores popping up in urban areas and general customers who flock to them." These features can be said to be similar to the popular stirring technology used by "Jungle", or mechanically follow the same process.

That is why Fushimi Saruhiko was in the row of mobile stores for tapioca drinks.

Moving on to a line focused on young women in plain clothes, buying a drink with a fixed price of ¥ 8 and a cost rate of 10%, and sitting at a simple table in the street, Fushimi looked around with a messy look.

Fushimi hates fashionable people, processions, and young people of the same generation, but he is not stupid with his duties. Like looking for gold dust in the mud, carefully look for the secrets, intentions, and signs of malice hidden in the trash.

Currently, the target is the pastel green kitchen store vehicle, it is from the emerging sweet brand "TapitsuCHA", whose main product is tapioca milk.

For the past few weeks, it has been a hot topic for guerrilla sales, mainly in the downtown areas. In other words, "find" and "catch" this kitchen vehicle is attractive as a kind of location information game. This "incitement to play" is also one of the usual "Jungle" methods.

However, at first glance, there appears to be no conspiracy or incidentally around TapitsuCHA. A harmless fashion item that draws the interest of the masses, and is forgotten just for a moment. Seems to be calm every day. Of course, "seems" doesn't mean complete innocence, but...

(As of today, there seems to be no tail that can be grabbed.)

Fushimi stood up. He put the tapioca milk untouched on the table. Someone in charge will get rid of that. Originally he doesn't like the fresh look and texture of tapioca. He thinks it's like a fish egg.

There,

"Oh, Fushimi-kun."

Seri Awashima, Lieutenant of "Scepter 4", who called him. Today she is dressed in civilian clothes, but she has an atmosphere that is the same as always. She has an L-size tapioca milk tea on hand.

"It's weird, you're not interested in these things."

Sitting in a chair across from Awashima, Fushimi wasted time leaving.

"Lieutenant…"

Awashima picked up the drink that Fushimi had left.

“On vacation, I try to strengthen the power of girls, who tend to be thin every day. You have to keep fashion items.”

"Oh, feminine power."

"I wonder if it's okay to take a photo before drinking."

Awashima, taking a photo of the milk tea with one hand holding his PDA, wondering where she had heard that, she lifts her face and turns to Fushimi.

"What should I do to" upload photos to the internet"?"

"I don’t know."

Fushimi responded immediately. In this situation, it is doubtful that Awashima has an SNS account. If she inadvertently deals with such a thing, she will be asked "What does this mean?" After spending a day talking about the registration of personal information, security settings, lectures on methods of operation, etc.

"Do you specialize in this?"

Fushimi replied again to Awashima, which was more mysterious than saying she would eat.

"No, I do not know."

There,

"It is awkward, Fushimi-kun."

He hears a familiar voice from behind. The captain of "Scepter 4", Reisi Munakata.

"It is…"

Munakata controlled Awashima, who stood up and waved with her palm.

"No, how is... I'm also in civilian clothes today."

In fact, today's Munakata had a slightly different impression than the "Blue King" impression, which is highly revered.

Maybe it's because of the slightly rough plain clothes, or maybe it was because of the brilliant blue of Tapioca Blue Hawaii that he got... no, mostly, it's probably due to the ridiculous feeling of "drowsiness" with a cup of drink.

"I ran into you by chance while walking through the city."

"Chance?"

Awashima bowed her head at a word she was unfamiliar with, nodded.

"Maybe... Awashima, Fushimi, walking together."

"Then I took a photo. It looks good, right?”

"Eh?"

This time he didn't know. Looking at Fushimi as if to ask him, Fushimi walked away from the beginning.

"In other words, it's a "challenge"..."

"…Challenge."

Awashima saw Fushimi again. Fushimi places his elbows on the back of the chair, turns to one side, and refuses to communicate.

He still doesn’t understand the meaning. He doesn’t know, but...

Defiance or "challenge". It is a word synonymous with "Katsumi" in the Awashima Seri values.

Training, challenges to overcome. Awashima cannot turn her back on that.

"What is the challenge?"

Awashima, who corrected her spine and turned into a face that was completely on duty, asked again:

"Fufu..."

Munakata looked at Fushimi with a smile.

"Tsk..."

Fushimi made a small click with her tongue.

And…

"This is..."

"That's right, Awashima-kun. Very good. Without moving…"

Awashima put her arms and tapioca milk tea to her chest. On both sides, Munakata put a cup of drink in his hands.

Milk and Blue Hawaii on both sides of the tea with milk.

"Oh, I uploaded it!"

"I put three."

The crowd gathered around the table increased.

"Now, Fushimi-kun!"

(Do not say my name.)

Fushimi held his PDA on top, and snapped photos over and over.

++++++++++

Fushimi's photos from "Awashima's Tapioca Challenge" are known as "Three Sample Attractions" and "Unexplored Triple Challenge," and were widely shared online. Answered on multiple social networks, she was favored, and it was already a great buzz.

But that was about a week. A photo of a single non-expansive shot was replaced by the next in the next week and quickly disappeared from the network.

"However, is there a good result?"

Munakata asked Fushimi, whom he called to his office.

"Yes."

When Fushimi uploaded the sample photos to SNS, he set up an electronic tracking tag on the image data. Labeled photos circulating on the net reveal the route and speed of information transmission of current affairs on the net, like a buoy launched for current ocean research. In particular, he was able to obtain a large amount of detailed data on personal connections and information links on "TapitsuCHA".

"From the conclusion, "TapitsuCHA" is like "white to gray". Due to the nature of the operation, it can be used for "Jungle" missions, but there is no connection between the person in charge of management or practice with the core of "Jungle" or the higher clan member."

"Well then you can either continue to watch freely or use it to catch "Jungle" from here."

"We will respond appropriately."

"It's okay."

They nod while the two look at each other,

"The captain is said to have had that idea..."

Awashima, who was waiting aside, nodded.

"Fushimi too... I'm sorry, I didn't know he was part of a secret investigation and I spoke to him carelessly."

"Ah... no."

Fushimi vaguely replied to Awashima, who bowed diligently.

"Anyway, I wonder if the captain had a 'deep thought'."

As a result, although it led to the identification of online personal connections, when Munakata came out and said it was a "defiance" or a "challenge," it just seems like "he just wanted to say a keyword like that."

(In fact, what was that?)

When Fushimi looked at him, he found Munakata looking at him.

"Fufu..."

Munakata smiled. With a mysterious smile as always, Fushimi is marked with a slight sense of mischief.

"…Yuca."

Fushimi was nervous.

[galaxysedginess]

The Lawful

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Bo-Katan Kryze & Satine Kryze

Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Satine Kryze, Anakin Skywalker, Darth Maul, Bo-Katan Kryze, Ursa Wren

Additional Tags: Satine Kryze Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s05e16 The Lawless, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Near Death Experiences, Romance, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Questioning the Code

Ao3 Link

“Attachment, Rang a pesky voice in his head. He was unsure whom it precisely belonged to, but for that matter of seconds, as he drank in the sight of seeing and feeling her alive, he shoved away his doubts."

Or, what if Anakin came along to rescue the Duchess of Mandalore?

The blood was pounding in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s ears as they bounded by means of jetpack through the skies of Sundari, smoke and blaster bolts streaking the once pale beautiful horizon. Not for the first time since their capture and subsequent escape, he wished he still donned the Mandalorian helmet that he’d “borrowed” earlier. He rapidly blinked, trying his best to avoid running into one of Mandalore’s grandstanding skyscrapers or any of the ex-Death Watch warriors that escorted him. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure which would be worse.

As Bo-Katan narrowly avoided collision after Obi-Wan had veered a bit too far to the right in attempting to evade shrapnel from another explosion, he deduced from her clipped tone that he may have better luck with the former as opposed to the ladder.

“Watch it, Jetii .”

“A bit tough to do with the change of scenery.” He countered back, managing a level tone despite the twist in his gut at seeing the seemingly utopian landscape reduced to yet another war.

The part of him that would normally take the moment to question the Death Watch’s motives was subdued by the situation at hand, which seemed to position them as allies in a turn of fate. Thank the force for that, because had it not been for their intervention, this would not have gone nearly as smoothly as he would have liked.

A blaster cannon soared from behind them, barely missing in part due to Bo-Katan’s unwavering determination to whip them every which way to shake off the enemy. He was grateful for it, but that didn’t stop the grimace that rose in his throat as they barrel rolled yet again.

He really hated flying.

He forced his eyes to remain forward and called on the living force to guide them through the despair, pulling from the light. He had to admit that it was difficult, surrounded by such destruction. Beneath them, a hospital was destroyed. To their left, a school and onwards, a market place. All were casualties in a needless fight that was orchestrated from the bloodthirsty dark side.

Who could want any of this?

If there was one thing Obi-Wan had learned through the countless tragedies from the Clone Wars, was that maybe, there was no such thing as true peace. Not the lasting kind, anyway.

Despite the chaos and mayhem that quite literally engulfed them in their haphazard attempt at an escape, topped off with Maul’s squadron of Mandalorians in tow, he still couldn’t find it in himself to wholly believe that. Not when there was still a chance.

Not when even through the smoke and the blood that polluted the once regulated airflow, he could make out the distinct and faint scent of water lilies brushing against his nose. Regardless of her several days of encampment and near-death, Duchess Satine Kryze still clutched onto him with the strength of a stubborn Tooka cat on its favorite scratching post, even if properly strapped to him prior. Obi-Wan could hardly blame her though, seeing as he was also determined to not allow something as frivolous as a faulty harness to be the cause of Satine’s demise.

Not when it seemed far too achingly close just minutes before.

He didn’t so much as have a moment to consider if she was truly alright, but he guessed that time would have to be for later. They had to move .

“Kenobi! Up ahead!” Ursa Wren shouted above the sounds of blaster fire from the treacherous crimson-colored warriors at their tails.

He did not need to see the ship to know that Anakin was close, the warm bond that had been kindled and strengthened after years of training. It felt a bit like a light at the end of a dreary tunnel. Anakin had not been keen on Obi-Wan’s direct orders to stick with the ship, but he’d hesitantly relented after it had become obvious, try as he might to deny it as he may, this was personal for Obi-Wan.

He would not be dragging Anakin or anyone else down with him on this mission.

However, in this present moment, when all he could taste was smoke and stray wind-beaten blonde hair, he was relieved for his former apprentice’s decision to stow-away (even if it had caused him grief earlier). The ship was beaten to a pulp, but it looked like in Obi-Wan’s absence, Anakin had made some modifications to it.

“Always on the move.” He internally chided, but again, could not stop the flush of elation that permeated across his chest, freeing some of the tension that had been knotted there ever since he first received Satine’s distress call.

That reprieve, unfortunately, was instantaneously cut loose when he felt himself whipped backwards and away from the ship that they were heading towards. Bo-Katan turned, mid-air and despite not being able to see her facial expression thanks to the mask on her head, he knew what she saw was far from good.

“Leaving so soon?” A raspy familiar voice shouted from behind them and Obi-Wan cursed.

He cocked his head over his shoulder, noting that none other than Maul stood on top of a speeder, darksaber drawn and ready, two of his faithful warriors at his side. His eyes perfectly matched the roaring fires that burned behind him. Obi-Wan did his best to shield Satine from seeing him, squeezing her tighter to his chest.

“You should know about running away.” He goaded, though Bo-Katan grunted in disapproval at his banter.

“You cannot run from destiny, Kenobi.” He said almost softly, gritting his yellow teeth as he stretched out in the force to attempt to pull them in as though they were caught in a ship’s tractor beam. “I have taken your master and now, I will have your beloved too.”

Obi-Wan resisted to his best ability without dropping Satine, placing them in what felt like a reverberated limbo, dangling above her people who cried for help as their newly “pledged” leader strove only for his own gains, which evidently included making Obi-Wan’s life as difficult and miserable as possible. On one end, there was victory in the form of retreat, with the engines running the promise for what would hopefully be a new tomorrow for Mandalore and its people. On the other, a painful and torturous end.

The aching in his bones and muscles said otherwise, but he knew, deep in his soul that this wasn’t the end.  

He meant it earlier when he’d insisted it took strength to resist the dark side and he hadn’t just meant from the moral standpoint of pushing against darkness, but the sheer physicality of warding off Maul’s strangling grasp. Slowly, but surely, the jetpack began inching forward yet again and Maul released an infuriated scream, no doubt channeling the deepest of anguish to overpower Obi-Wan.

“But you won’t have Mandalore.” Came Bo-Katan’s grated voice, not muddled with resignation, but resolve, as she and her fellow “deserters” charged forward in an attack sequence that was clearly rehearsed beforehand.

“Bo!” Satine’s voice broke through the disarray for the first time in anguish.

“GET HER OUT OF HERE!” Bo-Katan shouted with only a single glance backwards before throwing herself directly in front of Maul and his readied blade. She parried him, prepared for the strike, but it was unclear how long even someone as strong as herself could hold off against the former Sith lord.

Cold realization settled in to Obi-Wan as he felt Satine’s pain through the force. This was her sister.

Once again, he regretfully didn’t have time to ponder this news. Maul’s cronies, dead set on appeasing their new leader, shot skillfully at Obi-Wan, and managed to scuff the left turbine engine, sending sparks as he and Satine briefly wavered. There was a single second where time passed terribly slow until Obi-Wan used everything left in him to push them forward through the force, throttling through the small entryway of the ship and skitting to an ungraceful landing across the durasteel floor of the ship. He didn’t release the breath he’d unknowingly been holding until the thrum of the ship indicated that it had launched into deep space.

They laid there for an uncertain amount of time before the shock of their own escape settled into their bones. It was Satine, who raised her head first, looking fearful at what she might find in his gaze, but for once, he did not hesitate or subdue himself when he reached forward and framed her face in his gloved hands.

Her alabaster skin was dusted in soot and her eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion and immense sadness, making the intensity of their azure depths all the more captivating. He couldn’t remember last seeing her hair absent of any regality or so wind-swept, but the image reminded him painfully of a different time when Mandalore had been on the brink of swallowing itself whole and when they’d stolen glances and held hands beneath a shared cloak. Except this time, he came so narrowly close to losing her, that the weight of that guilt nearly crushed him.

“Attachment .” Rang a pesky voice in his head. He was unsure whom it precisely belonged to, but for that matter of seconds, as he drank in the sight of seeing and feeling her alive he shoved away his doubts.

She was alive. Right here in front of him. Closer than she’d been in years.

He also had to force away thoughts of when he’d last held her.

She opened her mouth to speak before closing it, taking in his face with her eyes with the same line of reverence that he felt.

“I’ve loved you always. I always will.” She’d said that. Those had been her chosen final words and he winced at how little he deserved them. How he didn’t deserve her or this moment of reprieve.

At the reminder of her close-call, he perked up instantly, feeling a bit ridiculous not to have immediately addressed her wounds.

“The darksaber.” Was all he could blurt out as he tenderly inspected the patch of exposed skin on her torso.

“It’s just a graze.” Was all she said in a hoarse voice, eyes still glued to his face as she reached out and smoothed what would likely become a scathing bruise across his cheekbone.

“A bump.” He said gently and held the hand that touched his cheek, feeling queasily reminiscent of when he believed for a moment that she was to die in his arms. She had literally met the blunt of the darksaber and yet she could only think of him. Both were of equal standing in terms of colloquialism, but neither were too fond of words at the moment. Obi-Wan didn’t have any for how he felt. Jedi weren’t supposed to, anyway.

Even that thought didn’t yet shake him as they still sat tangled together, simply amazed that the other was here.

“Ben.” She said gently, hardly above a whisper and the resurrection of the old nickname both tickled and pricked something soft in him that he believed had long since been put to sleep.

“Satine.” He said, trying to sound level, self-assured, but feeling none of that. “I thought…”

“I did too.” She swallowed and nodded before pressing her forehead to his. “I did too.”

“I wanted you to know-” He began speaking before his mind could catch up with him, paranoid instantly where his words would lead him without abandon, but showing no signs of stopping as he felt himself melt into her.

“-Well, don’t everyone thank me at-” A smug and approaching voice cut off surely at the sight of the uncharacteristically vulnerable scene he’d unknowingly interrupted.

“-Once.”Anakin winced as he leaned against the hanger door, shrugging in apology to Obi-Wan, who was trying very hard to give him a disapproving glance that was supposed to convey that nothing was happening, even if, Obi-Wan, himself wasn’t even sure if that were true. He just couldn’t tell whether he was grateful or wistful at his former padawan’s interference.

For Satine’s part, the bubble had been effectively popped as she straightened and stood to her feet, somehow looking regal even in the same clothes she’d worn for well over a week and with the dark circles under her eyes. There was still immense sadness there, no doubt for her people and for the sacrifice of her sister, but she’d returned to being the leader again.

“I am eternally grateful for the assist, Master Jedi.” She said in an even tone that didn’t dare suggest she’d been so close to crying.

Anakin nodded stiffly, shooting a brief glance at Obi-Wan to try and get a better read on the room before deciding it was best not to pry too much… Yet.

Obi-Wan grimaced as he knew what unrelenting teasing was heading his way once they were out of harm’s way.

“We’ll get you to safety, Duchess.” He said kindly. “You can count on us.”

She seemed to bristle at that and Obi-Wan could see the argument forming on her tongue about how cowardly she was being or that her safety would be a price she was more than willing to pay for her people. However, she swallowed them and nodded curtly instead. The exhaustion seemed to weigh on her for the first time as well as real dread. He wanted to probe for more, to try and help, but he knew this wasn’t the time. Satine would need and want space, which he would certainly give her.

He would also do everything in his power to get Mandalore back for her again. For the galaxy. Surely, that’s why.

“Yes, I can.” She finally said smoothly, sneaking a look at Obi-Wan that made him question for the millionth time in knowing her if she could read his mind.

And as Anakin retreated back to the cockpit and implored Obi-Wan to follow to discuss what half-truths they would tell the council as to why they broke rank to rescue Satine, Obi-Wan knew he was lying to himself.

[twins-parted]

Vampire Verse Headcanon: Seth + Feeding 

While this headcanon is under a cut for length - triggering content is included they are in the categories of: Body horror, gore & blood in general — Read at your own risk !!!

Talents at Play: Flirtation / Flattery / ( Promise of ) Seduction / General manipulation & Persuasion. Linguistically, he’s a force™ to be confronted by with the primary vampiric gift of a silver tongue. His victims are compelled to follow his suggestions, though a particularly strong willed individual might be able to resist a bit. Occasionally, he uses the now strengthened in born gift of telepathy and manipulation of reality. He also, obviously uses his 5 heightened natural senses ( His sense of smell and touch are unparalleled) & his new-found strength. ( Seth and Jonah both have high pain tolerance and stone durable flesh. ) 

Seth’s Hunting Method: ** Usually, he hangs out in very aesthetic clubs + bars to find his prey. After settling on someone, he’ll casually introduce himself - maybe have a quick chat and disappear back into the shadows. After the trap has been laid, he’ll tail the intended prey for a week or so to make sure they won’t be missed by anyone + if it all lines up he’ll start faking interest in them. This can include: flirting openly, giving them undivided complete attention, etc. Once he’s sufficiently gained their trust ( implementing the silver tongue talent ) he can lure them to a secluded place to begin feeding. ( ** Seth also sets up ‘dates’ via his thirst trap social media accounts and uses the same methods on those victims too. ) 

Appearance Before Attacking His Prey: Seth’s body language is very purposefully relaxed -  ( another vampire could tell however that there’s tension in his muscles and that he’s waiting eagerly to strike ). His ‘ breath ‘ smells way sweeter with each exhale because of the influx of ‘ venom ‘ ( again, a vampire’s trained eye could see each micro swallow Seth made while carrying on conversation ). His responses become almost exactly what his victim wants / needs to hear in order to lure them away from others. In this small window of time he will favorably react to romantic & non-overt sexual advances. ( He still has limits however, remember — this is a façade. ) 

Appearance During The Attack: At some point, after reaching the secluded location — he can’t keep up the tension in his muscles. He’ll start to shake slightly, though it is usually noticeable to even humans. Somewhere between several seconds to a few minutes after someone noticing this, they typically notice his fangs ( which are now more pronounced ).  If his prey had noticed them during the politely named, but short ‘ courtship phase ‘ he will say it’s an aesthetic choice. They are usually only noticeable at this point in his attack, however. By the time they notice the fangs, he’s already ripping their throats out. The victim is drained in around 3 minutes. 

Things the victim definitely missed because it all happened in mere microseconds: The elongation of his ‘ tertiary ‘ fangs ( bottom canines ) -> These help vampires in the ‘ hunting ‘ family to hold on to their prey and really dig in. They can also rip deeper into the flesh for easier drinking. His already freezing body temperature hits ‘ sub-zero ‘ levels and his tight grip becomes so cold it sears his victim’s flesh. -> Extended periods of contact with his skin at this temperature can and will result in frostbite. His eyes, while at a glance seem to be closed, upon further analysis, are open behind a mostly ( but not completely ) opaque membrane - like ‘ eyelid ‘ ( Think like a nictitating membrane, but less translucent ). If you could focus enough, you could make out his pupil behind it and see he’s still very much aware of their surroundings and what he’s doing. This feature typically occurs in vampires with an established hunter lineage.  

Over-Eating vs Comfortably Full: If Seth over eats, he’ll end up vomiting up the blood his system doesn’t require & will appear very intoxicated before vomiting. He will be a variant of ‘ hung - over ‘ after the fact. If he’s sufficiently full for around 8 or 9 hours after feeding, his saliva will be tinged pink with blood, he will shed that membrane ‘ eyelid ‘ via his tear ducts. It is goopy & bloody, and should it irritate Seth’s eyeball and make him cry — he’ll cry watered down blood in order to clean his eyes. The mucus lining his nasal passages also retains blood and absorbs it like a sponge — if it starts to run, it will look like an alarmingly gushing nose bleed. 

How Often Does Seth Need To Feed: Seth’s fast metabolism has followed him into the afterlife & it is manditory he feeds every 3 - 4 days. He can comfortably drain 2 - 3 adults. He needs snacks in between this time. This usually consists of small animals or Jasmine’s left overs from when she hunts.  

Extra Notes: Seth’s vampire lineage ( inherited from his creator ), is that of a ‘ hunter ‘. Essentially, he’s gifted & excels at luring out & ensnaring prey. His wits are sharp & his fangs are sharper. He can switch up his MO to easily entice his prey if his usual means don’t work or apply to his target. 

Seth doesn’t have ‘ secondary bleeders ‘ -> smaller fangs immediately next to the initial canines, ie the first premolars. 

There’s no real way for an average human to kill or maim Seth in a detrimental way. However, he will only entertain trying to snack on prey that is extremely combative for around 5 - 10 minutes. After that, he gets too bored™. 

If a human comments on his vampiric appearance, he’ll often play it up as a joke — usually fashionably & sometimes more campy as he leans into the ‘ role ‘. 

Usually he’s savage while feeding because of his penchant for brutality in general — there are rare instances where he will show mercy and use his talent with reality manipulation powers to relax and lull his prey so they won’t suffer as much while he drains them. 

He and Jonah have a strong connection + as such speak telepathically if they’re within a 10 mile radius of one another. ( Jasmine can ‘ hack ‘ their brains as well considering her own mind reading talent and typically can locate the boys no matter what. ) Though Seth prefers to dine alone, he’ll occasionally cajole his twin to join him while hunting  — It’s very rare though. 

[missbrightsky]

On My Honor

Fics Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Chapter 5: Feyre

I straightened my spine, lifting my chin and throwing back my shoulders. Look like a man, act like a man, be a man, I commanded myself. The posture was stiff and awkward, my muscles trembling at trying to hold it. Releasing a sigh, I slumped out of the pose. Ridiculous, you looked ridiculous Feyre.

“This is fucking hopeless,” I muttered, easing down onto a rock. The armor was stiff and heavy, clearly built for a frame bigger than mine. Hair was starting to escape from the low bun. Another great decision by me, cutting my hair with a sword.

The war camp was still a two-day trek away and my muscles were already aching. Chores around the house and with animals coupled with treks through the woods had kept me fit, but not to the point of hauling around armor, a sword, and my supplies. The late afternoon sun beat down on me, shade had been far and few in between on the road. Sweat slicked my skin and my clothes stunk of it. At least I smell like a man.

I shifted, trying to keep the sword pommel from digging into my side, I still haven’t figured out how to have it sit comfortably at my side. Much less how to use it.

When I finally stopped for the night on the first day away from home, it was too dark for me to try it out. I had spent the whole day at a brisk walk, fearing that my family would come after me. Or worse, they would send the soldiers to find the imposter. I tried over and over again to shake those thoughts, trying to reassure myself that they wouldn’t put me in that danger. More likely, however, was that Nesta wouldn’t want to bring that kind of dishonor upon the family. She would rather me die far away and then deal with the fallout.

I relaxed a little on the second day, slightly reassured that no one was on my tail. I stopped in the early evening that time when there was still light. Drawing the sword from its sheath, I tested its weight and balance. Like the armor, it was made for someone with more muscle than me, but the weight was not unmanageable. I would need to hold it with two hands until my arms strengthened. Which would mean no shield for me. Maybe they would let me use my bow instead…

A few test swings already had my muscles weakening, even more sweat running down my back. I sighed and returned it to its sheath, determined to worry about it more during training. No use trying to learn how to wield it and then developing bad habits.

Today was the third day and I was exhausted. Most of my anxiety about being followed was now replaced with what the hell I was going to do when I got to the camp. Questions plagued me like who did I report to? Where was I going to sleep? And how the fuck was I going to hide that I was a woman?

Shit. Oh Feyre, how your ancestors must be laughing at you.

(They’re currently cursing her stupidity)

I hauled my aching body to its feet again, pressing forward for a few more hours before stopping for the night.

More grassy plains stretched out, broken by the occasional patch of trees or farmland. I’ve been avoiding any towns, skirting around them, not wanting to put my disguise to the test quite yet.

Finally, with the sky deepening to periwinkle did I stop under a crop of trees. A nearby stream gurgled, cool and inviting. Dropping my pack at the base of a tree, I stumbled on sore feet to the source of the sound, nearly collapsing to my knees to drink from the stream. I splashed my face a few times to wash off the dried sweat. It had been hours since I last saw another human and it was almost dark out, but it was still too risky to take a dip in the water to wash off the grime and dust. That would just have to wait.

With a small fire flickering across my face, I drifted off to sleep, my dreams filled with mocking voices and bloody battle cries.

The increase of activity was the first warning I had that I was close to the war camp. A few miles back, the small country path I was on dumped me onto the main road. More and more bodies began to trickle onto the road; soldiers and merchants and peasants and wealthy either coming or going. Voices rose and fell, pouring in from all sides.

I kept my head down, no more than a boy scurrying to make his summons to the front. None stopped me or looked my way for more than a second, all preoccupied with their own mission. Spotting a group of soldiers that looked like they were heading the same way as me, I started to trail them from a distance, not wanting to have to ask for directions.

In the distance was Velaris. Even from far away, the buildings sparkled in the late morning light. Far enough away from the front, the buildings were unmarred by the scars of war. Had it not been for the smoke coming from the many campfires, it was almost easy to pretend that there was no war at all, and that I was there to explore the city famed for its artists.

The soldiers ahead veered off, taking the road to the left that led to the war camp. My heart pounded in my ears. Each step was one closer to potential discovery and certain death. More bodies packed in, the stink of men shoving its way up my nose. By smell alone, I fit in perfectly.

Tents every color filled the horizon, like someone had overturned a fruit cart on a hill. Even miles from the front, whoever had picked the site had chosen well. Situated on a ridge, it was easily defensible, visibility for miles around. Lines had formed, each one ending with someone who looked high ranking were taking names and giving orders. I picked the line closest to the road, in case I needed to make a quick escape.

Inch by inch we crawled forward, voices pressing in from every side. Some had come together, lifelong friends from villages who joked and shoved and laughed. Others, like me, we quiet, solidary, either too scared to talk to someone new or too knowing of the fate that lay ahead.

Minutes that felt like hours and hours that felt like seconds went by until I was the next to report in.

“Name?” the bored voice came, barely looking up from their paper.

“Flynn Archeron,” I said, trying to make my voice deep and even.

The commander's head lifted at that, his eyes meeting mine.

Shit shit shit shit SHIT. What had I done? Was my voice too deep? Too high? Did my chest binding come loose? Cold fear sluiced through my body, even more sweat streaming down my body, metallic saliva pooling in my mouth.

“Archeron, huh,” the man mused, taking in my form. “Knew him back in the war. Good soldier,” he grunted, lost in memory, “Shame about his leg.” He looked over me again, “Guess he married that healer after all.”

When he looked back down at the paper again, scribbling my name, I let out a breath of relief.

“You’ll be reporting to Lieutenant Tamlin Verdant, to the right, about halfway down the tents. Big, blond man, can’t miss him.” And that was that.

“Thank you, sir,” I set off to find him, the first test passed. Only a million more to go.

Next Chapter

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Well, Well, Well || Ariana & Otto

TIMING: Some time before Winn went MIA and Celeste died.  PARTIES: @gravityfissure​ & @letsbenditlikebennett​ SUMMARY: Ariana runs into Otto in the woods and they hear what sounds like a call for help. 

After spending hours looking over her notes and study guides for finals, Ariana desperately needed a study break. Her head hurt and she needed some fresh air to reset. Thankfully, she was already in athletic wear on account of the fact it was comfortable, so all she had to do was throw on a pair of trainers and hit the trails. With a wave to Ulf, she said goodbye and made her way through the trees. More often than not, she preferred to stay off the beaten path. There was a certain comfort that came with weaving through the trees and taking small leaps as they came up. Maybe it was the more wild part of her nature, but she loved every moment of it. She’d been humming through heavy breaths when she heard something not too far off. As she emerged from the trees, she saw a man snapping photos of the forest around him. She watched closely for a moment before coming into his field of vision. She gave a polite wave and greeted, “Hey, sorry to interrupt.” She looked to the camera in his hands, “Finding anything particularly photo-worthy out here?” Off in the distance, she heard voices, but she tried to tune her own hearing down for a moment to not be a total spaz in front of a stranger.

The forest wasn’t the strangest place for Otto to end up most days. Sometimes he came out here to try and practise in peace, while other days he needed to restock some of his alchemy supplies and others he simply came out just because he wanted some fresh air. Even with the dangers that lurked in the depths of the trees, there was little that compared to wandering the trails (generally he was mindful enough not to wander off them) but he’d seen a particularly curious plant that had drawn him over. He’d just been snapping a couple of photos with his DSLR when a voice behind him caught him by surprise, “oh! Huh, hey” he greeted lowering the camera and waving with his other hand, not recognising the young woman but that wasn’t all that uncommon. He smiled, before shrugging a shoulder and waving at the bright orange flowers with heavily drooping petals speckled with something that almost looked like gold dust sprouting at an angle off a tree. “Found a weird plant, figured I’d investigate.” His eyes took in her attire, a quick once over “out for a jog? Nice weather for it.”

While she couldn’t quite tell what color the flower was, Ariana could still appreciate its beauty and recognize that it wasn’t something she’d seen on her runs through here before. Not that she really did a whole lot of plant watching while on runs, especially if she was working on her pace. It definitely did look somewhat weird the way the petals drooped and she could tell there were speckles on it. “Huh, that’s a neat looking flower. I’ve never seen one of them before. Not that I usually, you know, thoroughly study the plant life on my runs.” She nodded in agreement, the weather was perfect and there was just the right amount of breeze going through the trees, “I love this time of year. It’s warm enough to enjoy a run, but not so hot that it literally feels like,” she cut her sentence off, the voices calling through the trees seemed to be getting louder, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Her head whipped in the direction they were coming from and she whispered, “Do you hear that?”

It certainly didn’t seem native to the continent, plants like this bloomed in the depths of jungles or other far more unreachable spots. Which was part of what had given Otto pause in his walk and left him contemplating the interesting growth. “That’s fair,” he admitted as he peered at the flower once more “definitely not something you’d expect to see around here… Interesting that it’s even survived.” Almost certainly magical in nature that much he could glean. He listened to what the stranger had to say about the weather, it was true, perfect for this time of year and yet it seemed to suddenly grow a little more dim as clouds seemed to pass and settle overhead. Grabbing his jacket he pulled it a fraction tighter around his body especially as something caught his ear… “I-- Yeah, I think so” he strained to tune out the rest of the forest and listen to whatever he thought was coming from the depths of the forest. “It sounds like… Someone’s calling for help? That way…” he pointed to the West and further into the cluster of trees.

Something was out there. The way the wind suddenly had a chill and the sky looked just a little bit darker screamed that something was going on. Whatever it was, it sounded like someone had gotten caught in the middle of it. Ariana stood a little taller as she tried to discern if it was a cry for help. It sounded like this guy was spot on and she let out a deep breath to strengthen her resolve. “I think you’re right. I’m going to check it out. You can come along if you want,” she stated plainly. She wasn’t going to force a stranger she’d just met in the woods to follow her into a potentially dangerous situation, especially if they were human. At least in a worst case scenario, her body’s fight or flight method was to throw a werewolf at the problem. Instinctively, she took a few steps in the direction of the voices before looking back to him to say, “You totally don’t have to come along, but I’m going.”

Whatever it was, Otto didn’t like it one bit. His eyes trained on the treeline and he held his jacket tight for a few long moments. He focussed, inhaling through his nose and out through his mouth to steady the sudden uptick in his heart. When she offered him an out, he had half a mind to just turn tail. It wouldn’t take much, and he really didn’t want to die out here. “Hardly seems safe…” but this girl was apparently pretty determined. What was it about people in this town that made them run headlong into danger? His fingers curled a little before falling to his sides, as he weighed up his options but the sound came again, echoing and dissonant on the breeze and before he even realised it, he’d taken several steps forwards. “I’m Otto by way,” if they were going to die out here best to exchange details in case either one of them actually managed to make it out of here.

Maybe safety should have been more of a concern to Ariana, but it hardly seemed to matter if someone else was in danger. Naturally, she had a bit more of an advantage when it came to survival and it seemed cruel to leave someone else out there to die. With a shrug, she explained, “It’s probably not, but I’m a lot tougher than I look.” He seemed to follow her anyway even if it was likely dangerous. The more the merrier when going up against potential threats, right? Her feet took her in the direction of the voice calling for help. Each step taken was intentional and quiet as she avoided stepping on any twigs or rustling any leaves. The element of surprise could work to their advantage if the situation ahead was dire. In a hushed voice, she said, “I’m Ariana. Thanks for tagging along.” If they were going to potentially rush into danger, knowing each other’s names was probably a good thing. She kept a close ear out to make sure they were moving in the right direction before stopping. “We’re close,” she stated, “Try to move silently. Whatever it is, we’ll have the upperhand if it doesn’t know we’re approaching.”

“No offence but that doesn’t make me feel better.” She didn’t look strong, but then again how many creatures had deceiving appearances? Too many really… Nothing about this boded well, yet somehow Otto found himself trailing after this girl out of a mixture of concern and more apparent curiosity both to see whatever was going on out in the forest. He’d been here long enough to know that dangers lurked out here but it didn’t mean he knew just what could be lurking in the dark or that he wasn’t equally curious about them. Perhaps if he could harvest some resources he could try out a few new experiments, but that meant discovering just what might be out here and then hypothesising what could be done with them after the fact. One thing that could be said about White Crest was that it could help him work on his bestiary and harvesting notes… Small perks for the everpresent death and danger that seemed to lurk around every corner in this place. “No worries… I’m not regretting it just yet…” he admitted scanning around the nearby trees growing quiet as the calls grew louder, and Otto felt his skin crawl with goosebumps. “Right… Silently,” he eyed the ground and slowed his speed to make it easier to place his feet and not snap any untoward twigs though he hardly felt stealthy. “You see that?” he whispered pointing ahead to what appeared to be a clearing, in the centre of which sat an abandoned stone well.

Ariana was more than used to people thinking she couldn’t hold her own. She was smaller than average, but she knew how to pack a punch. In really desperate moments, shifting into a wolf was always an option though it was one she preferred as a last resort. Needless to say, she didn’t take offense to Otto not being assured by her being tougher than she looked. The crying sound definitely appeared to be coming from the clearing and her eyes landed on the well. The way the call echoed it seemed like someone was trapped in the bottom of the well. “I see it, yeah. Think someone’s gotta be trapped down there. Sounds like a kid,” she whispered to him, unsure of why she was still whispering if it was just a kid. Part of her had very little trust for the whole situation being simply what it appeared to be. “I’d still be careful approaching. I don’t trust there to not be anything sketchy.” She kept herself crouched as she walked and tried to get a good smell of the area. Maybe it was too far out from the full moon, but she couldn’t pick up on the smell of another person or even distinguishable animal. Her brow furrowed. Something about this didn’t feel right, but she still pressed forward anyway. She finally stood a little taller and peered over the edge of the well to see a strange looking limb coming at her. “What the fuck,” she yelped as her hand took a swipe at it, claws instinctively coming up and scratching whatever it was while causing her to wince slightly. She took a big step back, keeping her stance defensive.

“Maybe… Or something that sounds like a kid…” If there was one thing Otto’s brain told him, it was that walking towards a creepily abandoned well in the middle of the forest from which something was screaming were all signs that it should not be tampered with. “I don’t--” he started to say but Ariana was already forging ahead while Otto preferably hung back to gauge the situation before he truly got involved “oh for-- woah!” Something swiped the air, near to Ariana’s vicinity and it was in the responding swipe he saw the slightly transformed hand. Well, that was a little better at least. “What the fuck…” he whispered quietly, concerned that raising his voice too much might stir the creature from its depths while he continued to stare at the well that seemed to have grown dark and still all of a sudden. “Why isn’t it… What the fuck? What was that?”

One thing that became immediately clear to Ariana was that whatever was down that creepy well was not in fact a child. At least not of any human or human-ish variety. Whatever the fuck it was seemed to want to pull her down the well as a snack which she most decidedly was not chill with. “I have no idea what the fuck that thing is, but it’s definitely not a fucking child.” She took a step closer again, hands raised and ready to fire back, trying to get a better look at the thing. It seemed to come quickly pattering up the well again. She took another quick swipe causing it to recoil in pain. “Any ideas on how to kill this thing outside of me slashing it to death,” she asked Otto, not daring to look away from the well and give whatever the fuck that thing was any sort of advantage.

“No… That’s probably how it gets people out here though,” Otto eyed the well cautiously unsure what the best next option would be. “It hasn’t followed us up though, unless we go near the edge…” so logically he’d been about to say let’s not do that. But Ariana seemed to want to do the absolute contrary and he could only watch as she took another swipe with her claws. “It doesn’t seem to want to get out of there,” he pointed to the well, “so maybe we try and get it out to see what happens… Or maybe we try and trap it down there?” It seemed like a good climber, “taking the head off most things tends to do the trick but uh I don’t have anything to do that, unless I tried with magic but there’s no guarantee that’ll work. Depends. What do you think’s best?”

Why Ariana had gotten close to whatever that thing was again was beyond her, but her fight or flight instinct had always been a little more fight than flight. Slicing it to death with her claws would take too long and she wasn’t even sure if bleeding out would really kill this thing to begin with. “Okay, valid point,” she agreed, taking a few steps back from the well, “I could always go full wolf, but I don’t know how possible lobbing this thing’s head off is.” Her eyebrows raised and eyes widened at the mention of magic. She practically gasped, “Wait, you can do magic? I mean, yeah luring it out and chopping it’s head off is something I could do if I had a sword or something. Think you could set it on fire?” She smacked her own head realizing wells were filled with water, “Sorry, too many movies. Also, like hella water in a well, probably.”

“Mm, I’d say if it doesn’t want to follow us out of there then at a guess it’s probably because it's weaker without the element of surprise right?” From what Otto had seen so far it made the most sense otherwise the creature would’ve been up in their faces already. “Uh---” there was an awkward look at the reaction to his mention of magic, “yeah I can,” it was a general misconception he was used to encountering but he hadn’t anticipated having to explain it here. “I mean. I can’t just… summon a sword that’s not really how it works and fire isn’t really my wheelhouse anyway. But if we can get it out, and if you can pin it - I can cast a spell that should be able to do the trick if you can keep it pinned for the time it takes me to cast?”

“That makes sense. Gives me the upper hand in a fight,” Ariana agreed, keeping a close eye and ear on the well. That thing wasn’t surprising either of them or anyone else again. As Otto explained how his magic worked, she nodded along. The plan was a little dangerous for her, but she was scrappy enough that she believed she could pin the thing down. “Alright, drag the fucker out and pin ‘em down long enough for you to cast a spell. I don’t love it, but I can do it.” Seeing fingers at the edge of the well, she threw an arm in front of Otto and said, “Looks like I’m going in.” She lunged ahead, grabbing for an arm that shot out of the well. At the sign of further danger, the wolf seemed eager to come out. While her claws and fangs sprouted out with the odd tufts of fur coming through, a low cautionary growl was given. It was an uncomfortable sensation that was unlike the usual liberation that came with a full moon. Her body didn’t like being caught between two states, but the fight in her was able to ignore it in favor of them both getting out of this alive.

It wasn’t the most ideal plan, but it was a plan and one Otto would try to follow through on to the best of his abilities but you couldn’t always guarantee things would go according to how you tried to fix them in your mind. Still, Ari was moving in a blur of motion before he could fully process anything else and he shrugged. “Well here goes nothing.” There was a horrible wail from the well as another long spindly arm swung up to try and bat Ariana away and Otto’s eyes trained on the limb. His feet sunk into a wide stance to balance him and connect him to the nearby environment, the stronger his connection the more likely this was going to work but even that wasn’t always a guarantee. Still, Otto’s hands shot out palms upturned and the air above Ariana shuddered as the clawed arm slapped off some invisible force sending up sparks of purple energy that made Otto grimace. “Come here you fucker,” his left hand remained upturned, but the right swept out and around, over and down before his fingers clawed into a fist as if grabbing some unseen force and he slowly pulled up. Sweat trickled down his brow, as the words of the spell flowed but eventually the sound of scraping and scrabbling rocks could be heard as the thing was pried loose from its abode.

Pulling the spider like man thing up from the well was getting easier as Otto began working his magic. Ariana was still struggling a bit. The stupid thing clung to the stones along the sides of the well and tried to swipe at her whenever the opportunity arose. This was decidedly not your friendly neighborhood Spiderman. Miles Morales would never. A low growl escaped her lips as one of the arms managed to get a swipe in. She grabbed hold of another limb, sinking her claws in, and yanking as hard as she could as she heard the sound of falling rocks and stone within the well. It became easier to pull the creature from the depths of the well now that it had lost its grip. “That’s right, Spider Douche,” she snarked, pulling the thing further away from the well. She wasn’t taking any chances, but it still squirmed beneath her grip. She didn’t dare chance a glance back at Otto. She had to trust he was doing his magic thing. If she looked away, that gave this thing an opening to attack without immediate reaction.

The magic looped and curled around the creature’s limbs until with a sharp yank the creature came free with Ari’s help. It flew a few feet before skidding to a stop in a divot or dirt nearby and Otto was already moving dragging the heel of his right boot in a half-arc from front to back the movements helping to focus the magic on the necessary target. If Ari could keep the thing - whatever the hell it was right there the spell should work. God he hoped it worked. It’d be embarrassing to have to explain to the other wolves how he’d gotten Ariana killed if that’s what happened here. Hopefully it didn’t come to that though. Palms pressed tightly together as one arm drew back as though wielding an imaginary bow at the purple wisps gathered between the points of his palms in a series of smoke-like strings. His weight rocked back onto the right foot before he pushed off hard, jumping up; gaining more height than the typical person might normally be able to gain his arm pivoting forward. The action sent streaks of purple energy whipping down on the creature’s neck. Each struck true and the creature screamed and writhed to try and break away black ichor like substance oozing from the gashes in its neck. “When I say, get outta the way,” he yelled, his brow beaded with sweat and blood starting to drip down his nose having noticed a stack of boulders on the edge of a nearby overhang not too far from where Ari and the creature was.

Every sense was tuned in on the monster thrashing below her grip. Ariana had to stay sharp and watch the movement of all its thrashing limbs. One had ripped the left side of her favorite running tights, but it was barely a scratch to her actual leg. She had no attention to devote to seeing how Otto was doing with the whole magic aspect of this. Not if she had any intention of staying alive at least. Her claws swiped to slice any limb that got too close for comfort. She heard Otto explaining she had to move when she told her to and she called out, “Got it.” A low growl rumbled from her as it continued to fight her hold on it. “Stay put you stupid spider fuck,” she groaned. She waited for Otto’s instructions to move, using every ounce of strength she had to keep the creature in place. She repeated a mantra to just hold the thing down to help suppress the urge to go all in on this thing. This was definitely more a workout than she intended to have today, but at least this thing wasn’t going to hurt anyone else. That is, if they actually managed to kill it before it killed them.

Otto didn’t need an audience, as much as he might enjoy one. He was happy to work, pulling his hands in the motions he’d been practising and figuring out lately. Unfortunately, this kind of resistance due to the size of the boulder made him grit his teeth as nature fought back against the magic that was trying to drag the boulder off the cliff. Sweat pooled at the back of his neck, his hands shook and static tingled at the tips of his fingers as he dug deep for resolve to reinforce the act. He breathed, in through his nose and exhaled forcefully through his mouth as with a wilful cry he dragged his hands down and a crack from overhead could be heard. There was a sharp throbbing pain in his hand, that Otto ignored for the time being as the rock careened through the air down and down and Otto waited clutching his hand as he watched until it was halfway at its trajectory before he yelled “NOW!” He just hoped

Fatigue was beginning to hit Ariana as she did her best to keep the monster contained to one spot. Her snarls and growls seemed to do little to keep the leggy motherfucker from trying to eat both of them. It felt like Otto was taking forever to do his magic thing. Not that she had any idea how the whole magic thing worked. Even though she was a wolf, magic was still way over her head. Apparently so was this physical fight because she was exhausting her energy more quickly than she would have liked. The claws in her hand were throbbing and every instinct in her was screaming to just rip this monster to shreds. Ignoring pure instinct was becoming exceedingly more difficult. Damn it, Otto, hurry up. It felt like forever before Otto finally called out for her to move. She quickly dodged out of the way and looked dumbfounded as she saw the boulder crush the creature that had been residing in the well. “Holy shit,” she breathed, “You moved that shit with your brain? That’s so cool.”

Even under the boulder it continued to twitch just as Otto’s hand throbbed and glancing down he noticed the mild purple-black discolouration spreading across his thenar eminence. “Sure, I’m the next Professor X,” he quipped trying to massage the area of his hand with the other but stopping at the sharp shooting pain that radiated from the pressure. That was a new one. Likely from a mistake in the wordings or perhaps the somatic components of the spell. The creature twitched again and Otto stared at it for a long moment, “maybe just… yank its head off or something? That’ll probably get rid of it for sure…” Who knew what that thing could come back from, but considering how it still writhed under a boulder of all things he didn’t really want to find out.

It was becoming harder and harder to ignore the fact she was struggling in her partially transformed state. Ariana felt sore and it was hard to deny this creature’s blood was beginning to smell appetizing. Concentrate, Ariana. Concentrate. Who knows what reaction you’ll have if you eat this thing. The boulder was crushing the well monster, but its limbs still twitched and flailed. Through gritted teeth,  she responded, “Head off, got it.” Easy enough. She did want to rip the thing’s head off and still hadn’t relaxed fully, so her claws were still extended. She dug her claws into its neck and pulled as hard as she possibly could. While it’s head was still hanging on by a string, it did seem to let out a final croak before becoming completely limp. Ariana collapsed to the ground, exhausted from being torn in between two states and her claws retreated. She took in a few haggard breaths and explained, “I just need a minute. Good thinking on the boulder though. I don’t know what the fuck that thing was, but glad I had you for back up.”

[fallen029]

Maybe

His apartment felt barren, a lot of the times. Cold. Impersonal. It made sense, seeing he was always gone, off traveling Magnolia, but it felt much too sterile for Mirajane's taste. Nothing like her home, where along with her brother and sister, the house was also prone to frequent visits. From Natsu and Happy to all of Mirajane's many friends and even, on occasion, Evergreen, the tiny house was typically stuffed to the brim, day and night.

Laxus placed the complete opposite.

It lacked a certain coziness that she missed, when she found herself spending time over there with the man. Which, as their relationship wore on, was frequently enough. Were he in town for an extended period of time (and he was more and more, as they grew closer and closer), she found herself more likely to stay the night with him than back home.

This was new territory for the both of them, honestly. Mirajane found herself frequently falling in love, but for this to occur with regularity, that meant also falling back out. And Laxus, well, he just didn't. Fall in love. Ever. It wasn't something he was even so sure he believed in.

But it wasn't love, not exactly, that seemed to bind them together more and more. Maybe it was something else. Something neither could quite figure out, but was there, just beneath the surface, and kept them faithful in their lengthy partings. Mirajane mostly dated mages, honestly, and found that once they were out of sight, well… It was difficult, to care for something so far away. And Laxus was much the same, only, he rarely found himself making such a commitment in the first place. So while Mira would have to break a heart upon return, he never had anyone to return to.

They were both on uncharted waters now, as Mira didn't feel it nearly as strongly, not even over a year out, when the man was away. And Laxus could admit to himself, and even to others, very proudly, that yes, he did have someone very special awaiting his return.

There was a comfort there, that neither had ever longed for before. But now they craved it. In one another. And no matter how long he was away, both found it impossible to be away from one another the second he was back.

Mirajane's own schedule made this difficult, of course, as she did have a very bustling hall to contend with. When he was home, Laxus forced himself at times to brave it, even, the dumb guildhall, just to sit around and watch her work, putting up with all the lowly mages that hung about seemingly only to aggravate him. It fascinated him. For some reason. Her...dedication. To something so….mundane. She took her position as head barmaid as the most important job in the world, and he kind of respected it in a weird way.

The woman could do anything she wanted.

Anything in the world.

And yet she chose to hang around and make sure that Fairy Tail's guildhall didn't fall under. He couldn't do it. He didn't know anyone who could do it, honestly. Put up with her daily grind. From dealing with the paper work their ailing Master skipped out on to running the bar and hall as a whole so expertly, Mirajane appeared to be born to be what she was now.

But she wasn't, was she?

She was born to be a mage. A highly regarded one at that. She had all the power in the world, but chose to sacrifice it, slowly whittle away all her former glory, originally for a far darker reason, but now, with that righted one more, out of a much stronger sense of duty.

Laxus never found bound by anything like that.

Duty. Honor. He felt like he was the antithesis of those things at times.

But he wasn't, of course.

No.

Mirajane knew that Laxus not only had both of those things, but far more as well. More now than he'd ever had. For someone that most everyone would assume was already at their peak, that there was nothing left to capture, Laxus had a lot of work ethic left to give. He trained, constantly when he wasn't out on a job. Long hours. While she was working away at the bar, if he wasn't sitting around drinking and commiserating with the Thunder Legion, then she could imagine him out there with them, bringing them to new heights as well as reaching his own.

And then there were those long trips. Where he was gone for a good month, if not more, taking on the highest of jobs, the lengthiest of requests, not in the quest for fame or jewels; he had those. He could acquire those with far less effort. No. Laxus did it because he believed he should. Maybe he lost it, somewhere in himself, over the years, but she knew it was there.

That drive.

That hope.

He grew up idolizing the top mages in his grandfather's guild for many reasons, but one that was high up on the list was always what they brought back to their community. Pride, respect, stability. To the surrounding areas as well. He venerated the mages who kept the peace and protected what was theirs.

Fairy Tail was his. Laxus'. And he did for it something she no longer felt able to.

If he found himself mystified by her resolve, she couldn't quite say she was so different when it came to him. Even though she no longer felt called to train her body endlessly or accept the requests of those in need, she still considered hem to be upstanding practices.

There was something about it, when he returned from a job bruised and battered and now, in those cases, expecting her to aid in his recovery. She enjoyed his toned body for many reasons (heh), but being able to trace a finger over the many scars and wounds leftover from requests long completed was a good way of keeping track. Memories. As bloody and horrible as they were at the time of receiving them, mementos of a time passed by.

She liked that he was strong.

Not in the way a casual observer might make notice of, but the way he shouldered so many things, from his childhood onward, with very little complaint towards this fact.

Mirajane thought this made him special, but honestly, from where he sat some days, watching her work at a dizzying pace to keep the bar in check, he felt much the same in return.

Maybe they were just getting older. Maybe that's what drew them to this new comfort. Stability. They were drawn to one another for a lot of reasons, a lot of reasons that might have made their relationship fleeting had they gotten together too soon, in their not so distant past, but they needed some reliance now. A relationship formed on more than momentary emotions.

And while they found that attraction and lust in one another, there was something beneath it. That call to faithfulness and reliability. A mutual respect. An admiration. Something they hadn't had in other relationships and only served to strengthen their current one.

In that sterile apartment, cold and devoid of all the cozy comforts Mirajane derived from her own home, with her siblings, there was something that tugged stronger beneath the surface. That kept her there. Whenever the slayer was there. And he welcomed her. Craved her. Every time. He felt weird now, when she wasn't there.

"You should keep some stuff here," he suggested one night as they sat on the couch together, him glancing over the mail he'd received during his time away while she sat beside him, idly flipping pages in a magazine. "Demon. More stuff, I mean. So you're not always having to go back and forth."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe," she challenged then, just softly, as if waiting to be rebuked, "someday, soon, I could just...bring all my stuff."

And there was a pause. As she waited. Uncertain of what the man would truly think of this.

But she didn't have to think long as, when she flipped a page, he only tossed another piece of junk mail to the pile of it he'd created on the floor while remarking simply, "Maybe very soon."

Smiling, she glanced over at him as she agreed, "Maybe."

[mobius-prime]

221. Sonic the Hedgehog #153

Oh god, is Sonic, like… okay? Is he all right up there? What horrific manner of trouble did he get himself into this time to have his face become deformed like that? Also, I like how this cover implies that Sonic is being hunted down by someone shooting lasers or something, when literally nothing even close to the sort happens within the issue. I know it's perhaps getting a bit stale to point out every time the cover art doesn't reflect the stories inside, but dammit, it makes me laugh so I'm gonna keep doing it.

Songoose (Part 1 of 2)

Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: Ron Lim Colors: Jason Jensen

Eggman has a new agenda to enact. He's offered Nack the Weasel a large sum of money in exchange for assassinating someone very important within Knothole, and despite Nack's apparent reservations about waltzing into a place where he's wanted for quite a few crimes, he seems pretty jazzed to accept the offer nonetheless. Within Knothole, Sally has arranged a mock battle training exercise between the Freedom Fighters and the Chaotix to strengthen team bonding and combat skills, and oversees the training along with General D'Coolette, discussing the various combatants' strengths and weaknesses.

Uh oh, that doesn't sound good. In fact, at that moment they get a call from the king and queen, still halfway around the world, and apparently the king is also exhibiting similar symptoms to the general, prompting Sally to muse on whether their illnesses are related. She wonders if they should cut their trip short and return home, something which the king is against but the queen tentatively supports, but the conversation is interrupted when suddenly, the general seizes up and then collapses onto the ground. That's… probably not a good sign. Worse still, "Antoine" doesn't even seem to care, though of course we know why.

So this is actually a plot point that's kept up throughout a lot of subsequent issues - apparently, Tails' crush on Fiona is still going strong, despite the fact that he literally "fell in love" with a robot duplicate of her which had nothing in common with the real her. It's honestly a very weird detail to seize upon, as while Fiona being a real person and a unique character in her own right is interesting, and the fact that she's joined the Freedom Fighters even more so, Tails trying to like… flirt with her and become her boyfriend is just a bizarre place to take it, especially considering the age difference. I mean, don't get me wrong, I know it's not uncommon for a kid to end up with a crush on an older teenager, but multiple writers from here on out write Tails as being actually infatuated with her and unable to "let her go" after her robot duplicate broke his heart. It just doesn't feel like Tails to me and it's frustrating, to say the least. But anyway, moving on, everyone agrees it's a good idea to go to Mina's concert tonight and disperse. Sonic catches up to Fiona and tries to explain that Tails looks up to her, but she just makes a snarky comment about Sonic being one to talk about respect given how he acted the other day towards her - yeah, apparently he still hasn't told everyone that it was his evil double flirting with all the girls. Also, we never actually saw Evil Sonic come on to Fiona before, but I guess it just happened offscreen. She then admits to him that she hated him for a long time for leaving her behind in Robotnik's prison camp all those years ago, but changed her mind after seeing him sacrifice himself for the planet during the Xorda invasion, making her realize that he never left her behind on purpose. Aww, that's actually nice! Fiona has the potential to be a really interesting and complex character, and, well, honestly she's one of my favorites of the later comics, so I'm glad to see her getting more screentime.

That night, Sonic and the others show up backstage at the venue to give Mina a friendly pep talk before her show. She hugs Sonic, thanking him for the encouragement, and Ash immediately becomes very jealous and butts in to remind everyone that he's Mina's boyfriend and band manager and that she needs to go to the stage now, prompting a clueless Sonic to wonder what his problem is. However, Mina's performance actually kind of reveals that Ash has a good reason to be suspicious of her interactions with Sonic, as the sappy, lovey-dovey lyrics of her songs all reference the color blue in various ways, and are clearly influenced by her previous infatuation with Sonic. But things aren't as happy and peaceful as they seem, as a suspicious figure lurks in the crowd…

So Mina was Eggman's target, huh? Strangely enough, Nack, with a totally clear shot to the stage, misses and hits a tree several feet above and to the side of Mina. Like, it's not even played off as "oh, he was trying to make the tree fall on her, or someone bumped his elbow" or something - he just straight up misses for no reason, sets the tree on fire with the blast, and then tries to make a run for it. Some assassin you are, especially considering your alternate name is Fang the Sniper! Sonic, Bunnie, and Ash immediately race onstage to check on the startled but unharmed Mina, and Bunnie focuses on putting the fire out while Sonic races after Nack, catching and knocking him out easily. Nack wakes up hours later in Knothole's jail, where Sally and Sonic attempts to question him on his motives, and he decides to be all flippant and act like it's no big deal that he was caught, as he'd rather spend some time in prison than ruin his "cred" by giving up the name of his employer. I'm sorry, Nack, but what freaking cred are you even talking about? Like what, are you gonna go around telling prospective employers that your skill set includes missing a target forty feet away, setting a random tree on fire, and then immediately getting arrested? Sally merely points to the cell across from him, where he's quite perturbed to see the three other weasel associates who helped him kidnap her a year ago, and she invites him to go ahead and spend his time in jail sharing space with them after he knowingly left them to take the fall for his failed plan. Of course, he spills the beans on Eggman immediately.

Well… I suppose that's not even out of character for Eggman, considering his original counterpart also hated music. Sally decides to assign Sonic as Mina's personal bodyguard for now, while the other Freedom Fighters keep an eye out at the next night's concert to make sure nothing comes near Mina. Ash isn't pleased at all with Sonic being close to his girl, and stomps off, with a bemused Sonic commenting to Mina that he's pretty sure her boyfriend doesn't like him. Gee, what gave you that idea, Sonic? Sally's caution is warranted, however, as back in New Megaopolis we see Eggman preparing his next plan of attack in the wake of Nack's abysmal failure - he's rebuilt Heavy and Bomb, and is ready to sic them on Mina! Man, it's been a while since we saw those guys, huh? Now that I think about it, after they got reprogrammed by Eggman before, Sonic just kind of straight up killed them when they tried to attack the royal family, and no one seemed upset about it at all. Well, maybe with them back, they'll get a chance to be freed and find redemption… or maybe the writers still don't care and they'll get fridged again. Guess we just gotta wait and see!

Fairy Tale (or the Adventures of Pirate Sally)

Writer: Romy Chacon Pencils: Art Mawhinney Colors: Josh Ray

Wow, it's been quite some time since we last had a "telling a bedtime story based on real events in the storyline to kids" episode, huh? Apparently, Rosie's three young charges have caught a bad cold, and as she brings them medicine to try to help them sleep they all start begging for her to tell them a story. She's reluctant, claiming she's not good at stories, but relents when they persist in asking. She invents a magical world of pirates and wizards, where the "Elfen Fox" falls onto "Pirate Sally" and "B-Bot's" ship, having had one of his two magical tails stolen by the "Rogue Assassin," who doesn't really live up to her name if all she's doing is going around stealing things. Man, what is it with wildly ineffective assassins this issue? Pirate Sally and B-Bot decide to help out the fox, and along the way meet their new allies Ant the Foole and the Blue Knight, who help them defeat various baddies based on the main villains of the comic's storyline. Finally, they make it to the Evil Wizard Kintobor's lair, whom they fight against as a team and help the Elfen Fox take back his missing tail.

I actually love this story, entirely because of the way the kids just start roasting Rosie's storytelling skills as soon as the whole thing is over. Hey, look on the bright side Rosie - now that they're preoccupied with coming up with a way to fix your terrible story, they won't be pestering you for more anytime soon!