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creativeashproductions · 4 years ago

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Hiking Buddy // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Once upon a time you could joke that quaratine bordom was the cause of the mass amount of 2020 pregnancies. Well you could until you found yourself in the same boat...or shall we say crib?? Go on the journey as Y/N reveals the pregnancy to Charlie and later their friends.

Warnings: Swearing, talk of vomiting, pregnancy, and fluff.

Words: 2.5k

Requested: Yes. Anon

A/N: Someone asked for dad!Charlie and I couldn’t resist.

Please ask to be tagged in my inbox because I can’t promise you will be through commenting on the posts!

I take requests as well!

Masterlist

Pulled from deep in your chest was a groan at the dizziness rushing from the bedroom into the bathroom. The tile floor cool to the touch as your body was flush on the bathroom floor recovering from the bout of sickness. The fortunate thing about the pandemic was that you had no obligations taking you out of the home. Sitting up, you sat back against the white porcelain tub grimacing at the bitter aftertaste of your date with the toilet.

Slowly you found your grounding enough to shakily stand on two feet to brush your teeth to get rid of the nasty aftertaste. Your eyes found the pale expression of your reflection fading as nausea faded as well.

“This is tainting naps for me.” You muttered under your breath, washing your hands before proceeding to splash your face.

Your social media had been flooded with many people in your personal life and celebrities announcing pregnancies. You and Charlie often made teasing remarks about if people were so bored. Guess you couldn’t joke about it anymore.

Your hand splayed across the bare skin under the band shirt hanging loose on your form with a small smile. It had been a hectic year getting married to Charlie while filming the first season of Julie and the Phantoms. The plan had been to wait a few years to enjoy your careers and marriage before children. Get more established in the film industry as a woman was necessary, but you couldn’t get mad. This child would be a gift.

“I’d appreciate if I don’t have gross cravings okay? I have to put up with your dad’s questionable food combinations. I may throw up looking at it.” You muttered smiling at the smooth skin you couldn’t wait to grow into a bump.

At the beginning of the pandemic, you, along with Charlie, had flown back to Canada. Living outside of city limits, Charlie was able to still hike and meet up with family in a safe condition. You grew more as a couple as well.

Turning the light off in the bathroom, you made your way to slip your faux fur lined grey and burgundy moccasins—the mid-afternoon sun shining through the windows of the bedroom giving a picturesque view of the forest. Charlie was more than likely in the home gym you had thrown together once arriving at the home.

“I have an idea a little one.” You spoke to the little life you carried inside your womb. After the positive pregnancy and your confirmation with the OB/GYN, you had ordered a few items.

First, it was baby-sized pair of hiking boots to go with a forest green, that matched Charlie’s eyes, onesie with black lettering. The lettering saying ‘And so the Adventure Begins’. The background had with trees and mountains. As nature enthusiasts, you thought it would be perfect.

The box had arrived early this morning when Charlie had been in the shower giving you time to hide it. Now you just had to mention you wanted to go hiking with him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Charlie spoke, kissing your forehead as he walked into the home. His first instinct to grab a snack after his workout, ��How was your nap?”

“Energized me. Hey, are you too tired to go on a short hike?” You questioned filling a glass with water to hand to him. His smile was thanks enough as he tugged you to sit in his lap.

“We haven’t gone on one in quite a while. What brought it on?” Charlie asked, wrapping his arms around to finish his protein bar. His chin coming to rest of your shoulder familiarly; you relaxed into his chest.

“It’s a nice day. We’ve been cooped up in the house for a while. Just wanna get out.” You replied heart doing a flutter when his arms wrapped around your midsection.

“Let me get a few things,” Charlie spoke gently, pushing you up to the job to the spare bedroom. The closet kept the supplies you used for hikes, like the first aid kit that he started bringing after you cut your knee once.

As he collected the items, you quickly changed into clothing acceptable for the hike and shoving the things into the backpack. Slipping it on, you met your husband at the front door lacing up your boots. Charlie lifted the house keys in his hands before he tugged you outside, excited for the escape. His hand never leaving yours, you found the well-used trail you had explored countless times.

“Are you feeling better?” Charlie asked, swinging your hands together, refusing to release his grip. His eyes glancing over to catch your expression.

“I think I was overtired.” You replied, keeping your eyes on the trail looking for the rock you wanted to use.

Charlie’s phone was pulled out to make a short video.

“Get yourself a partner that suggests a hike before you.” Charlie slowed to press a kiss to your flushed cheek, “No but seriously. I’m incredibly lucky to have someone like my wife here.”

“Oh, shush.” You snickered as he intentionally pulled you to a stop to press kisses all over your face. His grin and his love would melt the hearts of his followers. Charlie returned the phone to his pocket as he hummed the melody to Unsaid Emily.

“Be right back.” Charlie spoke, squeezing your hand as he jogged to the forest, “I drank too much coffee this morning!”

You couldn’t help the laugh at his blunt words and his typical caffeine intake, but it gave you the perfect opportunity. Using the limited time, you were quick to place the onesie on the rock with the baby hiking boots near the shoulder. You had forgone on asking for a sonogram picture so you could share that moment with Charlie.

“I always forget to pee before we leave the house. Good thing we live near nature.” Charlie spoke jogging closer to where you were hiding the items behind you.

“Do you think green or mine?” You asked, bringing an expression of confusion on your husband’s face. He stepped closer halting when you stepped to the side, “I think yours. I love your eyes.”

Charlie was frozen entirely at the surprise you had planted in his short absence. He didn’t even notice he had moved until the soft cotton of the onesie brushed his fingertips. With his attention solely on the boots, he hadn’t seen you had a stepped up a camera to catch his reaction.

“Are those…?”

“They won’t need the boots in our arms, but I thought we could match.” You continued shifting with the camera to catch his wonder-filled gaze. His expression melted your heart as he gently caressed the side of the boot from his crouched position.

“We’re-“

“-getting a new hiking buddy.” You finished beaming as Charlie lunged you swing you in his arms, “Okay Char. I’d prefer not throwing up again.”

Charlie stumbled back glancing around the area, “I love how you surprised me, but what if you had fallen? I can’t have my loves hurt.”

“Charlie. We’re on an easy trail, not Everest. I’m fine.” You deadpanned watching his cheeks flush at your response, “But I would like to get home. I’m so hungry.”

September 2020

Emma Roberts, Sasha Pieterse, Bindi Irwin, High School Music alumni Ashley Tisdale, and Hilary Duff were only a handful of celebrities welcoming babies. If hiding your marriage with Charlie was hard during filming, hiding the pregnancy was harder with your friends. Especially hitting seven months with a big bump concealed with camera angles.

You wanted to keep the news under wraps, so the media focused on the show, not your pregnancy at an early age. Of course, your friends were suspicious of Charlie’s posts and stories, not showing their favourite Gillespie. Carolynn knew just by the fullness of your face barely noticeable to the others.

“Oof.” You breathed wincing at the sharp kick to your ribs from Sprout. Charlie’s concerned gaze glancing over from his interview.

Swiftly rubbing the area, the kick happened your fingers returned to flip the page of the pregnancy book. You had grown used to the concern Charlie carried, he always had his phone fully charged on his hikes. Hikes you hadn’t taken since you surprised him with the little boots; it had been a disagreement, but you got where he was coming from.

“I’m fine, Charles.” You spoke, forcing him to turn his attention back to the closing interview. Once he turned the camera off, he rushed over to crouch in front of the couch, placing his hands on your stretched belly.

“Thought we had a deal Sprout.” He cooed caressing the band shirt covering your stretched skin, “Don’t hurt your mama.”

Your face twisted as the baby shifted, while you were enthralled by the fact you were carrying a child it felt like an alien. It was weird feeling something move inside and kick your damn inside like a fucking soccer ball.

“I can’t wait for the baby to be out.” You groaned, hiding the smile as Charlie’s lips pressed against your belly. You couldn’t wait to see him interact with his child.

“I say we name him Luke.” Charlie teased shifting you ahead so he could slide behind you in the usual position. His fingers immediately massaging your stiff shoulders and neck.

“I like Alex better. He’s the best Phantom.” You retorted reaching up to hold his hands, “Sensitive and his sarcasm? Immaculate.”

“We can table the options at a later time.” Charlie quickly replied chuckling as you moved position once more to rest against his chest. His fingers finding their way into your silky hair, pregnancy hormones had sped up hair growth.

“Hey-“ Your words fractured as your phone buzzed with a FaceTime request from Jeremy. Charlie quickly answered with a snicker as your response was cut off.

Jeremy’s eyes narrowed at the sight of you two on your couch, “My wife and I had drinks with our family. Carolynn slipped and told me something interesting.”

You and your husband froze as Carolynn sheepishly joined her husband in their white bedroom with a quick apology. Guess the cat was out of the bag.

“You guys are having a kid?” Jeremy asked, taking in the two actors he had quickly become good friends with during filming. His mind recalling a moment at his wedding when you guys had disappeared for a good twenty minutes.

March 2020

The Shada wedding had been gorgeous and like a dream to see someone you saw as a brother find his other half. Your hand was kept tight in your husband’s sitting among Owen, Tori and Kenny himself. Owen had snuck himself and Tori wine while Kenny turned his eye to the underage drinking.

“Wanna take a walk?” Charlie murmured in your ear as Jeremy and Carolynn made their way around their guests. His hot breath sending a chill down your spine as his left hand came to rest on your thigh.

The romantic atmosphere with the wine you had had during dinner lowered your inhibitions that you and Charlie snuck to the less used bathroom. You two quickly gave evidence that wedding hookups were very real. You managed to sneak back into the reception where dancing was taking place; a perfect story to why you and Charlie were a little dishevelled.

“Hey!” Owen called seeing you two join him on the floor. The wine had blinded his view of the very obvious couple, Owen knew from catching you two what a quickie appearance looked like.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink Bud.” Charlie spoke to the teenager as Jeremy made his way over to his friends, “Congrats Jer!”

“Thanks, man! When will we get the Gillespie wedding we didn’t get?” Jeremy called over the music beaming when his new wife plastered herself to Jeremy.

“Maybe in the next year.” You retorted twirling in Charlie’s arms thanks to the dance lessons of boot camp.

“Oh my god. Little Gillespie was conceived at our wedding.” Jeremy spoke, leaning back to his wife, “You’d be due in November, right?”

Your cheeks burned as Jeremy and Carolynn put the pieces together swiftly, “Well can we keep this a secret until October? I don’t want to take attention away from the show.��

“You should tell the others.” Jeremy suggested squeezing his wife’s hand, “They might think Charlie kidnapped a baby otherwise.”

Agreeing to announce to your friends Charlie had set up a video hangout with Owen, Mads, Savannah, Jeremy and even Kenny. It was in the later evening with the hiking boots out of shot and your shirt and belly below the camera view.

“Hey, guys!” Charlie greeted his friends as everyone entered the video, “Insane how many fan edits there are!”

“So cool!” Mads beamed addressing Kenny, “Thanks for giving me the chance to be involved in the coolest project.”

“You did all the work.” Kenny waved it off, taking in the cast of one of his favourite projects to date. You all meshed together so perfectly even if your character was only recurring like Sav.

“Hey, Kenny can we get your opinion on something?” You asked, gaining everyone’s attention and excitement after only using texting with the group. Morning sickness and fatigue had depleted your desire to be physically seen.

Kenny nodded, leading you to grab the baby hiking boots, “Do you think these are adequate enough to run from the witches?”

It was utterly silent as Charlie raised the little plaque he had ordered. The plaque included the Hocus Pocus witches in front of a cream moon, faces featureless other than eyebrows and lips. The corner had a cobweb with a little spider and just under it said ‘Winnie, I smell…a child’ with the pregnancy test snug in the cut out. Your favourite was the ‘it’s just a bunch of hocus pocus’ under the test.

“No way!” Owen screamed as all hell broke loose with the others. Charlie beamed at the sheer excitement on their faces.

“You’re having a baby?” Kenny murmured with a smile at the touching announcement and acting being involved.

“Charlie suggested the Hocus Pocus theme because we may have kept it to ourselves and our family?” Your voice went up a few octaves as the truth broke free.

“You haven’t had the kid, right?” Mads questioned peering in the background behind you finding nothing.

“Hopefully we have our hiking buddy in November on the due date. I don’t want to overdue, this kid weighs a ton.” You moaned snuggling into Charlie’s side, “We defin-“

“Jer’s wedding.” Owen interrupted with narrowed eyes, “You disappeared and came back with-“

“-O there is a child present.” Sav joked getting Mads to scoff at her, but everyone made a face as they recalled your disappearing act.

“Oh, your house must be filled with gross food combos. I hope the baby gets Y/N’s looks and taste buds.” Mads called hanging up before Charlie could retort at her. His eyes rolled, but the smile told another story, but slowly each of their friends said their goodbyes.

“At least Owen won’t go spilling the news to anyone.” You snorted playing your hand on Charlie’s large one splayed across your tummy.

You had a lot to thank Kenny for too. Without being cast by him, you wouldn’t have met your friends which in turn would mean you wouldn’t have been at Jer’s wedding. That would have been tragic since his marriage is the sole reason you had a child due in two months.

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#charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie x reader #julie and the phantoms imagines #luke patterson imagines #charlie gillespie fanfiction #caitsy and ash productions

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valentine-writes · 3 years ago

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heeeeeey thereee:]] i was just wondering on what blaise (ur oc) looks like:D apologies if you already posted one about that question!! im new to ur blog ehehe ( T_T)＼(^-^ )

introduction to blaise !

↳ ft. my genshin oc, blaise

「 genshin oc mini character sheet 」

author's note: you know, i've never actually introduced blaise-- or any of my other genshin ocs for that matter- i'll put a smaller and more compact version of his character file below!! ୧( “̮ )୨✧ credits to @//queenbee 's character maker on picrew- which i used 2 make these pics of blaise. i do have drawings hwjwhdjd but um... Bad. i don't like them (இ﹏இ`｡) </3 ANYWAYS!! blaise character file below the cut + his design!! (his outfit is a lot different and due to limited options i settled for a more casual look in the picrews of him) ALSO!!!! WELCOME 2 MY BLOG /ᐠ. ᴗ.ᐟ\ !!

name: blaise (last name pending </3 i can't decide)

pronouns: he/him

gender: male

age: adult (tall model)

likes: chicken mushroom skewers, sunny days, napping in random safe/confined spaces, doing his hair, apple cider, tight fitting clothing, people who feel like a challenge to befriend, adventuring (exploring different places in teyvat specifically, though treasure finding is quite the bonus to him), treating his friends out to drinks or lunch, eccentric people, fashionable clothing, joking around (even when it's really not time to), pranking others, wintertime, snow, taking risks even if they may not end well

dislikes: reading long books (can never pay attention to them for long), getting lectured, tense situations (mostly the ones he gets himself into- any problems he created that escalate too far, that's when he runs away), areas that are TOO quiet, his parents, fried eggs, springtime, people who take themselves too seriously, being forced out of a lie, deep conversations (when he's not ready), extremely strong alcohol (he will drink, but he likes to keep it more classy rather than just drinking to get drunk)

personality: reckless with situations and runs away when it gets bad, playful, free spirited, carefree, dishonest, secretive, lighthearted, distrustful, impulsive, has a hard time being vulnerable, straightforwards, opinionated, (can be) hot tempered, loyal, quick witted, street smart (not book smart </3)

habits/quirks: lying (even when it isn't necessary), rubbing the back of his neck, stretching his arms (idle animation), yawning dramatically when bored, checking behind him (idle animation), adjusting his gloves (idle animation), puffing the fur hood of his jacket, checking his nails, shaking out his hair

vision and weapon: anemo polearm (i like to think that at one point he used a catalyst, but he found that he frequently lost control and was just incredibly destructive- so polearm it was)

voice lines:

⁺ "breaktime already? great." (idle line)

⁺ "eh.. i've been colder." (dragonspine) (he's clearly unimpressed by the weather-)

⁺ "i just can't stand fried eggs. i'll eat them if necessary... but i just- can't get over the smell." (least favorite food)

⁺ "chicken mushroom skewers are never the wrong option when it comes to food. care for a bite?" (favorite food)

⁺ "steady now- if you slip, i might not be able to catch you in time." (when walking on ice)

⁺ "now... how are we gonna divide the between ourselves?" (when opening a chest)

⁺ "hey! i was trying to find something special for you all day and figured- why don't i just let you choose what you want for the day? c'mon! we'll travel the entirety of teyvat if we gotta- i'll pay for expenses along the way. would that be a fun birthday gift?" (birthday)

notes about appearance:

⁺ small freckles, faded because he hasn't been in direct sun for a while

⁺ hair is always half tied up, the black layer in a short ponytail, revealing the white underneath

⁺ grey-ish olive eye colour (similar to noelle's, just less saturated- the picrew eye colour isn't the most accurate to this description akwjekd)

⁺ tans easily, gets sunburnt just as much (gets freckles in the sun too becuz aw. i think itz kyute ´͈ ᵕ `͈ )

⁺ usually has small dark circles under his eyes due to lack of sleep (his random naps Do Not help)

notes about clothing:

⁺ has black fingerless gloves with a crescent moon shaped cut out on the back of the hands, and metal eyelets lining the wrists

⁺ necklaces were a personal choice of his, the crystal is something that he says "keeps him close to home" even if he ran from it a few years ago

⁺ boots make him about two inches taller (with boots 5'11, without 5'9)

headcanons:

⁺ he was a bit of a naughty child, and even now, retains some of his mischief in the form of his small pranks. he didn't have a great reputation with others when he was younger and was basically the "don't turn your back on them or they'll raise hell" kind of child. he was also pretty naturally rebellious, unfortunately leading to a lot of times where he had to worm his way out of trouble

⁺ lisa loves doing his hair and in return, blaise probably runs errands for her. he always comes back with more things than she requested, but he's helpful nonetheless

⁺ in a modern au, would definitely be the person to spontaneously show up at his friends houses. sometimes he'll show up to visit lisa and be all like "suprise :D"

and it's like. three in the morning.

⁺ can never decide on what to wear so he ends up in a messy clash of the different styles he was thinking of that morning

⁺ voice claim is marshall lee from adventure time!

⁺ a little overprotective over his friends and loved ones- it's never really expected because he seems so laid back most of the time

⁺ written under "character story 2" for him titled "name meaning": his name, blaise, means stutter- which is very ironic for him. despite being named such, blaise is very good at smooth talking. not to mentions his habit of lying- he barely even blinks when telling a complete lie. never stammering or hesitating to make something up in a matter of seconds if he feels the need to, without flinching or thinking beforehand, his lies never fail to fool even the most suspicious of people.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oc #genshin impact original character #original character #oc #valentine's ocs

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iloveyou3thousand · 4 years ago

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I was wondering if you could do a Starker Werewolf au where Omega peter is from a different pack that left him to die in the woods and Alpha tony finds the omega bruised and battered well on a full moon run with the rest of avergers. Fluff insuses

Yuuuuuusss of course yes absolutely here it is

————————————————————————

The second their shift settled, the smell hit the entire pack, carried on the light breeze drifting through the woods. They all looked in the same direction, heads turning and noses pointing toward deeper in the dark forest, somewhere between the tall trees. They sniffed, collectively, and shared worried glances when it became apparent what that tangy, pungent smell was that accompanied that of a strange Omega.

It was blood.

Blood, and fear.

Tony was the first that took off running.

Naturally, the rest of the pack followed suit, the wordless decision that they were going to find this presumably injured Omega already made the second their Alpha took off.

The scent of the strange pack they assumed this Omega to be from had already filtered out from between the trees, which meant that there wasn’t a big chance they would run into other wolves. It also meant that the wolf whose scent they were picking up must have been left behind, and not as bait to lure in other wolves or other entire packs. It wasn’t a trap. It couldn’t be.

And if it was, Tony’s pack would be ready. But the scent of other wolves was too distant, aside of course from the one they were tracking now, and gaining upon rapidly.

There was no sound Tony or any other of the pack could pick up on, just the putrid smell of pain and suffering, and so Tony pushed harder, as the scent only became stronger the closer they got. Until they inevitably burst into what must have been the epicenter, and sure enough…

Among the leaves, lying against a large tree, was a small, light brown wolf. Tony stopped.

A pup, he thought immediately. But as he stepped closer slowly, he could see that he wasn’t quite as young as he first appeared to be, just…small.

A runt.

Tony trotted forward to assess the damage in the dark, approaching cautiously because although this wolf looked like he must have been a runt, and although he was clearly injured judging by the matted blood in his fur, he could still gather together protective strength and lash out. But the poor thing was breathing shallowly, eyes closed as if he didn’t even realize he was surrounded by a foreign pack. He should have been scared, or more scared than he already was, but it seemed he must have lost the energy to put up any defense.

The boy’s heartbeat was weak, slowed, his body limp on the ground. Tony could tell that he wasn’t going to have long, not if they stayed there. There wasn’t much of anything that they could do like this, with an injured, possibly dying wolf by their feet. But there was something about the boy that made Tony want to do whatever he could to help him. Something in the way he opened one eye and looked at him, in the way he whined softly, almost privately, as if just for Tony to hear.

With a lot of pain and effort, Tony forcefully shifted back into his human form, and was glad when the only other Alpha in their pack, Steve, shifted with him.

“This is going to hurt a little,” Tony murmured to the injured wolf, as he and Steve carefully scooped him up, and started carrying him back toward their cars.

It couldn’t have taken more than ten minutes, but the journey back was exhausting. The wolf was heavy, even with Steve and Tony sharing the weight between them, and the effort it took to remain human when the pull of the moon was so incredibly strong just tired them out more easily. But back at the cars, they had what they needed. And so once they arrived, it began.

A blanket was spread out on the forest bedding beside one of the cars, upon which they lay the injured wolf. Steve grabbed their med kit, and Tony inspected the strange wolf’s injuries, discovering deep bite marks and lashes that were going to be tricky to treat.

He had to shave a lot of the Omega’s fur to actually get to the wounds, apologizing over and over again as he went. Of course the fur would grow back eventually and it was more important that these wounds were stitched up, but it must have taken a chunk out of the stranger’s pride. At least a little bit.

He lay still though, and Tony got to work as best as he could with the resources they had.

It would have been better if they’d been able to take the wolf back to the compound, but Steve and Tony didn’t even need to exchange a single word on the matter, knowing fully well that it would be impossible, and most of all, very dangerous. What if one of them shifted behind the wheel? No. That wasn’t an option. This would have to do.

Tony came away with bloodied, shaking hands, but once all the gashes and punctures were sufficiently stitched together and the painkillers Steve had administered were kicking in, the strange wolf seemed to relax at last. His breathing was still slow, but no longer shallow. His chest rose and fell evenly, signifying a gentle, deep sleep.

The exhaustion from the impromptu surgery had Tony shifting back into his wolf form automatically, unbidden, but he couldn’t say he minded. He could see, from the corner of his eye, that Steve had done the same, slinking off to go find his mate between the trees and get settled somewhere comfortable.

Tony couldn’t have left even if he wanted to. That poor Omega. He couldn’t begin to fathom why another pack would have attacked him like that, why they’d leave him to die, why they’d hurt him that badly. Perhaps he didn’t want to know. He’d have to see come morning.

For now, he knew that the boy needed as much warmth as he could get to get him through the night and help his body start to heal, and being exhausted made it that much easier to lie down next to the Omega, and cuddle up to him without putting too much pressure onto any of the wounds. He was going to keep him warm throughout the night. They had already come this far.

Tony woke up with one arm slung over a shivering stranger. His first instinct was to pull him closer, as they had drifted apart a little throughout the night. A cool back settled against his chest, and the shivering slowly subsided, paired with a pleased sigh. Tony didn’t realize what was happening until he woke up a second time, later, to shuffling around him.

His pack had returned from the night in the woods, and they were all quietly gathering their things, getting dressed and finding the breakfast they had left in large coolers in the cars, talking quietly among themselves.

Tony blinked his eyes open to the back of a head of blond hair, and it took him a second to recognize the color from the night before. So it wasn’t light brown. It was blond. He smiled tiredly to himself, sat up, and looked down at the still asleep stranger.

The stitches looked messy in the daylight, but they were relatively clean, and neat considering Tony had made them with little to no light, in the middle of the woods, with limited tools. With the help of his pack, they put the boy onto the backseat of his car, swathed in blankets and with water to drink and something to eat nearby just in case.

The boy slept the whole ride home, and only woke shortly before they were about to turn onto the compound grounds.

“Where am I?” A soft voice from behind Tony asked, and Tony looked over his shoulder to see the boy’s soft brown eyes had opened, and he was looking around a little dazedly.

“You’re in my car. I’m taking you back to mine, to get you looked after. You took a pretty big hit last night.”

The boy tried to sit up, but visibly winced. “Where is my pack?” Was the second thing he asked.

Tony didn’t like the answer he had to give, but he knew that he was going to have to rip that bandaid sooner rather than later. He didn’t want to prolong any pain or any useless wondering. “They’re gone, kiddo. They left you behind. They left you to die.”

The backseat was quiet for a few moments, and in the rearview mirror Tony could see that the young Omega was staring, just staring at nothing in particular, probably lost in thought. His expression was pinched, and he was sure that was because of the pain he was undoubtedly experiencing, be it physical or emotional. His pack had left him to die. That must have been a shock.

“I could have seen it coming,” the boy ended up murmuring to himself, though it was loud enough for Tony to hear in the front seat.

“What’s your name, kid?” Tony asked.

“Peter. I could have known. They never liked me to begin with. I knew they were planning something. They were always so…” he trailed off, and Tony didn’t like the look on his face when he glanced in the rearview mirror again. He looked so sullen, his lips pressed together and eyes on something outside the car window, as if he was trying not to cry.

“Hey,” Tony said softly but urgently, and he reached behind himself to offer Peter his hand, palm up, despite the awkward angle, “I know this is a lot to take in, and we only just met, but fuck those guys. Forget about them. I’m Tony, I’m the Alpha of the pack that found you, and we don’t treat our Omegas like that. I promise.”

Peter looked down at the hand, waiting so patiently, offered up for what seemed like nothing other than to comfort him. And so slowly, realizing that while he was hurting and while he’d just lost his own pack there was also someone out there who had picked him up and dusted him off and taken him in, he lay his hand in Tony’s, and was shocked by just how warm it was and just how inexplicably incredible it felt to hold it. A calm washed over him, a calm he didn’t think he’d ever felt before, and when he looked up he met the warm brown eyes of the Alpha in the front seat through the rearview mirror.

“You’re one of us now, Peter,” Tony promised softly, and gently squeezed the Omega’s hand, “Welcome to the Stark pack.”

#starker #starker fanfic #ironspider #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #my fanfic #my writing #werewolf au #aus #abo #omegaverse #alpha tony #omega peter #hurt/comfort #fluff #teeny tiny bit of implied soulmate au too ehehe #Anonymous

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sonicasura · 4 years ago

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Balan Wonderworld Review - Favorite Costumes Part 1

I have officially beat the game with every single Gold Balan Statue in every level, got the Balan Costume, got all the main game costumes and the latest section of the Tower of Tims that I need to unlock being the sixth section.

I had quite a ball playing the game despite Square Enix being backstabbers to Balan Company and the game. Now, this huge ass review will split into different categories and will have their own page. These categories are:

Favorite Costumes

Level Design and Level Music

Boss and Boss Music

Now, these picks will be my personal opinion. I'm starting with costumes because it's probably the hardest out of these to choose from since every costume has incredible designs to them.

There will be two picks for each Chapter: a Common Costume and a Rare Costume.

Common Costumes are those you can easily find in each act. If you can find them in multiple spots in one act or they can seen im both acts then they count as common.

Rare Costumes are ones you have to go the extra length to find. Some are hidden while others require certain costumes to get.

The Balan Costume isn't being counted for obvious reasons. It is the only costume found on the Isle of Tims and it's requirements are staggering.

How To Get Balan Costume

First you need to feed the Tim Statue on the isle a certain amount of Rainbow Drops. Once it's full, you need to get a white Crowned Tim. This very Tim can be acquired by getting Tims with three badges.

A Tim can get a badge for consuming the equivalent of 30 Tim Drops(3 large drops) in either blue, pink or red colors. You need at least 2 Tims with all 3 badges and then breed them together. It is trial and error so I suggest getting multiple Tims with badges but also exit the game if ya fail to get a white Crowned Tim.

Once you have the Tim, do a level and it should be the proper size to pick up. Throw it at the statue and it will become the Father Tim. That big Tim will fly you up to the costume so you can get. If ya lose the costume, then give the Father Tim more Rainbow Drops. Rainbow Drops can be given by redoing stages, bosses or Tim Statues scattered about the levels.

Now let's get started.

Chapter 1

Common Costume: Tornado Wolf

An obvious choice for me. Wolves are one of my favorite animals and werewolves being one of my favorite mythological creatures. Tornado Wolf can be found in Act 1 and in the Boss Level. A simple jump engulfs the player in a mini tornado that can reflect wind projectiles and break blocks.

Powerful, agile and cute plus Tornado Wolf just gives me Werehog nostalgia since I'm a Sonic Unleashed fan.

Rare Costume: Jumping Jack

You can't just give me an adorable kangaroo and one of the better costumes when it's comes to movement. Jumping Jack can only be found in Act 1 so it's actually rare. This costume allows the player to do a flutter jump, great for getting extra air, reaching slightly far platforms and a decent recovery.

It's a costume I suggest stocking up on since you can't get the better mobility options until Chapter 6 Act 2. Also love there's a plushie in the pouch and the white patches of fur. Kangaroo are marsupials who do carry young in their pouches, and the silver tufts just add extra charm to the design.

Chapter 2

Common Costume: Jelly Jolt

Very useful! The Jelly Jolt is the perfect costume when it comes to electric resistance and make enemies stay five feet away while you shock them to hell. Can be found in Act 1 and the Boss Act. First time seeing an adorable jellyfish that actually doesn't mean harm.

Jellicent, Frillish, and Healslimes don't count considering the former have a habit of wrecking ships and the latter is a pain in the ass in boss fights or tough opponents. Also, all of these attack you! Case in point.

Rare Costume: Double Jumper

Definite pick for many reasons. This costume can only be found in Act 2 and requires the Fixer Upper Costume in Chapter 12 or the Frost Fairy Costume in Chapter 8(harder difficulty for reaching it).

It allows you to double jump, a godsend when it comes to reaching Balan Statues, costumes, recovery and careful platforming. You can get some major air with this costume and makes backtracking for certain levels easier.

I love the demonic imp design too. Imps are agile and mischievous creatures after all. Just like the basis, this costume is difficult to grab like the imp.

Chapter 3

Common Costume: Sickle Slicer

Slickle Slicer are one of your first go-to for fighting spiked enemies. This costume can be found in Act 2 and the Boss Act, it allows you to throw sickles that act like a boomerang. If you do a combo, these sickles can go farther than their already decent range.

The design is a very nice touch since the praying mantis can be considered a high level predator amongst insects. The costume is quite agile which helps in a pinch against fast opponents.

Rare Costume Itsy Bitsy Elf

A mini chinchilla perfect for tiny doors. Costume can only be found in Act 2 and takes some careful platforming to get. Suggest using the Jumping Jack costume if you don't want to wait for the better option in Chapter 6. This costume lets you enter tiny doors that often hold Balan Statues or Balan Bout inside. Very adorable, very fast (probably second fastest in the main story) and super fun.

Chapter 4

Common Costume: Aero Acrobat

Holy Balloon Popping Batman! This costume can be found in Act 1, Act 2 and the Boss Act. It allows you to pop balloons and even jump kick enemies caught in the crosshair. Balloons are scattered about in various levels and this guy is a great option of transport to reach these specific areas.

The aviator outfit makes it even better and I love bats. Probably my favorite flying mammal of the bunch since I often have a bat ally in games like Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance, a Crobat for hunting escape happy Legendaries in Pokemon and Hidabat in Yokai Watch.

Rare Costume: Happy Horn

My first performing costume. It can be found in Act 2 and performs on special stage platforms scattered throughout chapters. A good way to gain some extra drops and hear a different version of stage clear. Not only is the costume charming, this is the first time I actually like listening to a marching band.

Chapter 5

Common Costume: Guardian Bird

The first costume to find in Act 1, can also be found in Act 2 and the Boss Act. The Guardian Bird costume lets you throw a mini whirlwind in midair. A nice costume to have for hitting far off opponents and counter wind projectiles.

I love the purple and yellow of the feathers and that orange mimics the bandana and ponytail of the costume's human equivalent. This costume is quite quick and good for dodging, the ability can act as a last second recovery should the need arrives.

Rare Costume: Sickle Slayer

A much stronger version of the Sickle Slicer that can be found in Act 2. One of the early options for breaking iron blocks or fighting iron coated opponents. The extra bulk does slow down the player but the payoff is worth it.

The larger size, serrated sickles and the color palette proves that this is a costume you rightfully earned. A sign that you can handle the much stronger costumes that can be found in the game. The general amongst the Sickle race.

Chapter 6

Common Costume: Pumpkin Puncher

The Fruity Boxer! A costume found in Act 1, 2 and the Boss! This costume lets you punch opponents from afar with straight Rayman equivalent punches. Doing a combo even extends the range. A faster hitter than the Sickle Costumes but also great at getting tons of Drops from Negati. If you take out tons of Negati in a single costume without changing or getting hit, the number of Drops they give increases.

I love the design since it's practically a scarecrow boxer. The outfit is cute, has a sort of fanciness you can only find in medieval periods in wealthy districts.

Rare Costume- Air Cat

The princess of platforming. This costume can only be found in Act 2 and allows the player to walk on air for a short amount of time. A perfect option for reaching far off areas, recovery and even avoiding ground hazards.

I've used this costume A LOT for most of my playthrough of the game. Even go back to Chapter 6 just to restock if I run out. This costume is that good. Very adorable too, just has this Artistocats nostalgia to it as well. Also I am a cat lover, literally got 5 cats at home and all are rescues as well.

That will be it for now. Part 2 of Favorite Costumes will be out sometime this week. I would've put the whole thing here but Tumblr limits how many pictures you can add to a post, 10 to be precise. Also, I don't want to make this too long for any fellow readers.

Until next time folks! See ya back in Wonderworld.

#balan company #balan wonderworld #balan wonderland #my personal opinion #costumes #balan wonderworld costumes #video game review #sonicasura #personal favorites #balan company's innocent #fuck square enix #fucksquareenix

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theflashdriver · 4 years ago

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Trial by Flyer (A Silvaze AU)

The campus was dark and silent tonight, the wind wasn’t whistling through the trees and what little star and moonlight would have shone its way to her was being blocked out by a thick wall of clouds. Blaze the cat, age sixteen, shouldn’t have been out here at so late an hour. Midnight had just passed, the witching hour had arrived, and yet, this feline witch was supposed to be long in bed. Instead, where was she? Sat at the bottom step of the outdoor amphitheatre, fingers steepled and her right foot tapping uncontrollably as she awaited her best friend.

The Marble Garden School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a place of learning only for the chosen few and, as such, there were many serious rules that were mandatory to abide by. There were a multitude of simple rules that, if broken, could result in a severe punishment of expulsion; girls weren’t supposed to enter the boys’ dormitories (and vice versa), you weren’t allowed to cast nefarious spells on other students, there were to be no paid additional studies and, the rule that Blaze was currently breaking, all students had to be in their respective dormitory buildings before eleven at night. Just being out here was making her anxious, quadrupling her heartrate and making even the most minor of sounds all the more terrifying.

Blaze was a good student, well… a mostly good student; a good student as much as she could control being a good student. While she rarely raised her hand in class, only answering questions when she was called upon, she listened diligently to her lecturers, studied all she’d learned thoroughly every night, shirked social and extracurricular opportunities and took additional time at the library whenever possible. She put in more effort than any other student she knew of, that wasn’t a matter of pride so much as a fact that her teachers wouldn’t stop reminding her of. Whenever she did well on a test or whenever they wanted to give an example of a good student, her name would quickly fall from their lips followed by a heaping of praise.

Yet, despite all the praise she received and how good of a student she was, here the feline sat; so casually breaking curfew. It was as if she was trying to be caught even, a heavy bag sat beside her and she was dressed in the garb that she’d chosen as her uniform- a tall hat with a golden buckle and belt adorned her head ita long sleeved purple dress that frilled out at the cuffs and hem covered her body only to be topped by a purple-leather mantle, a set of thick purple tights with golden swirls decorating them and a pair of high heeled boots to match. The only aspect of her dress that wasn’t purple and gold were her gloves, stark white evening gloves that reached deeply into her sleeves. If she was seen, for a plain an outfit she’d tried to pick (from a very limited list of options) she’d be recognised on sight; a fact that was making it all the harder to not just run back to her-

A voice suddenly assumed the entirety of her mind’s attention, not entering through her ears but jumping directly into her brain, “Blaze! I’m so sorry, I’m running a little late. The groundskeeper was cleaning a mess outside the boy’s dorms, I had to sneak out through the window. I won’t be much longer!”

Quickly, Blaze raised her pointer fingers to the air and set their tips alight. Intricately, methodically, she traced a pair of intricate and overlapping sigils in the air and closed her eyes. The moment they were completed, she brought those fingers to her temples and thought in the loudest voice possible, “Silver. It is okay, I am glad you were not caught. I am waiting at the agreed location, please come quickly. Did you remember your notebook?”

A moment passed but no reply came.

Her fingers left her temples and her eyes flickered open but the symbols she’d cast had already faded from the air. A sigh slipped from her mouth as she recrossed her legs and resumed waiting, uncertain that her message had left her, let alone reached its intended reciprocate. He wasn’t that late, and the boy’s dormitories weren’t too far from the amphitheatre, but every second spent out her left more chance that they’d be caught. The moment he arrived, they could achieve the motive of their rule-breaking and quickly sneak back to their respective rooms.

Oh, who was she kidding; this wasn’t going to go nearly as quickly as she hoped.

It was as she had that thought that a twinkling of light, like a small cluster of stars had managed to split through the clouds, drew her attention. She looked up, frowning hard at the glow as she attempted to identify it; as it drew closer, she understood it to be the form she was awaiting. Silver the hedgehog, also age sixteen, was descending from the sky as though he was carried by a moonbeam; wrapped in cyan, psychic, light, his form was difficult but not impossible to distinguish. Before he arrived, the feline jumped to her feet and dusted herself off, quickly scanning their surroundings to make certain no one else had been watching them. He landed without a sound; standing next to her, still coated in energy, his height only just superseded hers due to the nature of his tall quills. If she wasn’t wearing heels of course, the different between them would be far clearer.

With the flaring of his fingers, the light faded from him but that new sight entirely perplexed Blaze. She’d noticed his lack of hat, thus being why she wasn’t presently taller than him, but not the lack of his other garb. Silver stood before her, dressed in a short-sleeved green t-shirt and a pair of baggy pyjama trousers.

“Silver,” She half whispered half grumbled, trying to keep her voice down but make it clear that she was perturbed, “Where are your robes, where is your notebook?”

His bright yellow eyes seemed to dance for a moment, looking to her before down to his own frame. As a realisation hit, his quills shot up straight and a hint of embarrassment overcame his muzzle, “Sorry, I forgot to drop the charm. I figured I’d be too bright if I tried to scout a path dressed normally, give me a moment.”

Like a chimneysweep dusting soot from his body, the symbols on his palms flaring, Silver began to pat himself down. With no more than those touches, he unearthed the outfit that he’d hidden- he wore open robes with flaring sleeves (cut with a keyhole window that exposed the upper portion of his chest fur), a set of baggy trousers and some thick boots with metal caps. That description made the outfit seem basic but, in truth, it was anything but that; head to toe, Silver glowed with a strange bioluminescence that matched the symbols on his hands. Scales and lines like mycelia flared additional light from seemingly random points on his person, forming jagged lines both across and up his visage. In some places it made sense, like on the buttons of his mantle and hemming his clothes, but in others it seemed nonsensical.

To conclude this transformation, he slicked his fingers through his quills and revealed what Blaze thought to be the most ludicrous cap worn by any student in this entire school. As if to compensate for the muting of his own overgrown quills, often having to be pulled back into a braid or ponytail, Silver’s choice of hat was so tall that its point had bent not three days beyond his arrival at this school. It was faintly glowing and cyan, alike the rest of his garb, but the underside of its large rim especially so. It looked as though his head was topped with a large, bioluminescent, mushroom cap with incredibly bright gills.

Reaching into his robes, he drew out his notebook and beamed at her, eyes still shining even while his hat tried its damnedest to obscure them, “There, is that better?”

Realising quite how intently she’d been staring at this magical display, Blaze quickly turned away and busied herself within her bag; though she’d thoroughly enjoyed the display, he was eating up their time. Under her breath, half hoping he didn’t hear, she murmured, “You’re so naïve.”

She pulled out her own notebook, flipping it open to her most recent writings. In a cursive, neat and elegant, font were two pages of heavily sourced notes pertaining to the history and practice of future prediction and other sorts of divination magic. She managed to walk beside him, still not looking to him, and show him the pages.

“These should help you start your essay, at the very least. All these books are available in the library but, if they’re taken out, I have my own copies that you can borrow,” She tapped one name in particular, “Look out for books and stories by and about her in particular, Amelia Rose. Her works are a lot older but, while I find them too flowery, they’re a very good source.”

She dared to throw a glance in his direction only to find him staring at the pages as if the several dozen names and notes were going in one of his ears and out the other. His words seemed to leave some kind of impact on him though as he managed to nod at them, “Amelia Rose, Amelia Rose, okay!” Blaze went to tear the two sheets free for him to slot into his own book, but a fumbling hand caught hers before he could, “Don’t worry about that, you need to write this essay too, right?” She looked to him incredulously only for him to start beaming again, “I learned a new spell, watch this!”

He shuffled his way just behind her, reaching around her shoulders. As if it was the most normal thing in the world, Silver plopped his notebook face town atop hers Almost immediately, Blaze felt her tail stiffen and bump against him as his arms came to rest atop his and his frame pushed so close to hers. Two of his fingers pushed against the back of both his pad’s covers and began to weave small circles. They traced from top left to right, gradually going along and down line after line after line. She watched as sparks of excess cyan energy, that which the book didn’t absorb, slipped from beneath his fingers and fluttered in the air before them. Quickly, the tenseness in her tail faded and she felt herself relax into his grasp, but she wasn’t thinking about that. She was simply enamoured by whatever it was he was doing.

So enamoured in fact that when he flipped his book in a single movement, uttering an overly pleased, “Tada!” It took Blaze a moment to come to her senses and realise what he’d done. Her words, her exact handwriting, had been copied onto the pages of his book. He’d learned this spell specifically so that she didn’t have to duplicate her notes for him, her notes could simply duplicate themselves.

“You’re so…” She went to reprimand for acting without explaining, for allowing his talent to swallow the entirety of her attention again, only to notice something comically foolish, “Your book was upside-down…”

“W-What? Oh, um…” He lifted it from hers, stepping out from behind her and squinting at the writing incredulously, “It’ll still work for studying though, right?”

“It should do,” She comforted him, but at the showing of his notebook a question rose to mind, “Did you get my message earlier?”

“Oh, yeah! You’re getting way better at telepathy Blaze,” He was smiling again, “You said it was ok and to come quickly, right?”

Ah, so the end of her message had been cut off. Her casting, even of that basic spell, was still far from perfect… unlike his.

While Blaze excelled at all things theoretical, she could easily write essay upon essay and was quick to learn that which she heard or could read, Silver was a master of practical magic. Without really understanding what he was doing, the hedgehog frequently found himself successfully casting spells on a whim and without particularly understanding their idiosyncrasies. To contrast this, despite putting in an equal amount of effort as her, Silver was especially bad at deskwork; he’d attempt to answer teacher’s questions and routinely be incorrect as well as, despite weeks of study, barely earn passing grades in written exams. Curiously enough, just as she mirrored his written ability, Blaze was lacking when it came to practical magical talent. When it came to offensive spells and fire magic, she was fairly adept at casting but anything beyond that seemed to be out of her reach. Telepathy was one of the first spells they’d been taught, and she still couldn’t transmit full thoughts, only brief fragments; abjuration, conjuration, transmutation and illusionary techniques, outside of only the most basic, were beyond her.

One would think that, for those reasons, the two wouldn’t get along but they’d formed a strong bond in their first year. It’d been very obvious to Blaze that the hedgehog was struggling, he wore his heart on his sleeve in such a blatant way, and she had taken some degree of pity on him. That pity had soon been corrupted by a mutual admiration of course, even during their first year (3 years ago) he’d shown such magnificent talent, and that admiration had forged the bonds of their friendship. They looked after each other, helped each other wherever possible and promised to come to the other for help… just as she had offered an exchange and asked him to break some rules tonight. She’d thought she’d have to beg but he’d agreed without hesitating.

“So, Friday’s test…” She led, knowing that day was only one more night away, “I know this is a little short notice, I thought I could maybe do this myself, but-

A pair of hands found hers, palm topped palm as her fingers held her tight.

“We help each other, Blaze. There’s nothing to worry about,” She caught his eye again and knew that he was being genuine, “Of course I’ll teach you to fly!”

Blaze’s gaze slipped from Silver. Her stomach was churning, it felt as though the world was spinning, the mere mention of that word and all it implied made her slightly sick. On Friday, they had their first real test of this semester- a flying obstacle course set up on the sports grounds, a small path that they had to complete. Even outside her difficulty casting a spell that would allow her to fly, Blaze had a rather significant fear of heights; when she’d arrived at her dorm room within the girl’s tower she’d almost panicked at the view from her window. For this reason, while other students had made the extracurricular effort to learn flight, Blaze had only just started to learn. She’d tried to find the right spell for her over the past few weeks, researching thoroughly, but none of them had worked with her specific type of magic.

“Alright, th-thank you Silver,” She managed to glance at him again, only to find that he’d leaned in closer, “What do you think the first step is?”

Silver’s hands slipped from hers, he fumbled with his chest fur in thought for a moment, “Well, it’s probably best to start at the beginning; you need to take off. From there, it’s just learning to control yourself; that gets way easier with practice!”

“Right, taking off…” She considered, still rather disgusted, “How would you recommend I do that? I don’t think your method will work for me.”

As if to exemplify why his method wouldn’t work, a gentle hue of cyan light overtook Silver’s frame and carried him into the air. He flipped to hover upside down, looking her in the eye as he sunk deeper into thought, “Probably not…” His eyes seemed to dance across her body, lingering on her hands before finishing at her feet, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, you can make fire come from anywhere, right?”

With no more than a thought, Blaze allowed a pair of flaming plumes to emerge from her shoulders and dance in the windless night before having them vanish and growing a set of vague flame-wings, “Anywhere on my body, as much as I can muster.”

“Well…” He looked like what he was about to say was foolish, “What if you made yourself like a rocket? What if you shot fire from the bottom of your feet and pushed yourself into the air?”

It was, it was very foolish, “Silver, even if I could do that, it’d be incredibly unstable and almost impossible to balance. If my top half leaned over then I’d fly in just about any direction, I could race to the ground like a falling star.”

“I thought about that too!” He beamed, “What if you used your hands to make almost… stabilisers? Like what people put on a bike so they don’t fall over, only for flying.”

For as ridiculously as he’d phrased it, that was a fairly succinct counter to her issue. There was however a magnitude of issues still both swirling in her gut and with his plan, “Ok, but that presupposes that I can even make enough thrust to lift myself, Silver. I really doubt that I can…”

“Oh, have you tried before? Darn, I really thought it’d work…” He went back to thinking, almost seeming to scan her body again, but those words had made Blaze’s mind even more of a mess.

Her gaze broke from his and she hesitated again, looking at her hands and conjuring small flames. The rate with which flame emerged from her was something she could control but she’d never truly thought to, “Not really, no.”

“You haven’t? Can we try it then?” Her uncertainty must have been showing because he flitted back around, looking her in the eye, “I’ll stay right next to you, I won’t let you fall, I promise!”

She gulped, “Do you?” It was a question she already knew the answer to but worry was brewing in her gut.

“Of course, I’m here to help you, Blaze!” He insisted, preparing her arms as if she was already about to catch her, “I would never let you down.”

“Ok,” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, “I’ll give it a shot…”

Blaze was rather unsure what to do with herself to become more aerodynamic, but she gave it her best. She pushed her heels together but kept her toes far apart, keeping her hands parallel but separate to her waist with her palms pointed towards the ground. Lighting a flame was easy, she had just done it with a thought, but producing a constant and controlled flame would be just a little bit harder. She focused her attention on the underside of her boots and centre of her palms, trying to pool all of her arcana evenly over those four spots.

A thought dawned upon her, “Should I I just let it go or should I jump and do it from the air?”

“T-Try just letting it go,” Silver’s voice cut through her focus, “It looks like you’re doing rea-

A single lapse in her concentration was all it took. As Blaze was trying to focus on his words, the seal keeping her flames from spilling free lapsed. A thunderous force, larger than any Blaze had tried to conjure before, burst from all of four of her extremities with an unrelenting roar and launched her straight up into the air. The moment she opened her eyes, Blaze was met with cloud but soon they passed and cracked to reveal an unending array of stars dancing around the moon. For a single moment, as her eyes lingered on the shining crescent above, she felt joy; she’d done what she thought impossible, she’d successfully taken off… but she was still soaring.

There was no ceiling to stop her and, much more terrifyingly, no safety net beneath her. She’d shot off without warning, she had no idea how fast she’d flown or what kind of noise she was making. It was possible she’d woken up the whole campus, it was probable that one of the nightguards had noticed! She was going to get them in so much trouble! As she glanced around herself in an attempt to find Silver, she forgot how important the positioning of her palms was and sent herself into an upwards corkscrew. Now spiralling, her hat having long fallen from her head, Blaze fought to regain control but soon found herself spinning on more than one axis.

Her focus and control waned, the fire at her limb’s ends snuffed and soon she reached the apex of her ascent. For the briefest of moments, she felt weightless, having tumbled up to mingle with the stars, but she very quickly found herself plummeting. With the wind rushing around her frame, Blaze couldn’t relight her form and, even if she could, her feet and hands were in such wrong positions.

She started to scream, the sound had just begun to leave her lips, when something soft found her back and hooked around the underside of her legs. She couldn’t have fallen for half a metre before that gentle touch had found her and brought them both to a standstill in the air. Lit by the moon more than his powers; Silver’s smile was huge and his eyes sparkled down at her. She’d landed in his arms; he was holding her back and beneath her legs, clutching her close to his body in an attempt to secure her. His face, his smile, it was all so close; she couldn’t recall anyone else ever looking at her like this, especially not after she failed.

“Are you alright? Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” He insisted, but before she could say a word his smile almost tripled, “You did it Blaze! You flew!”

“I-It was more like I exploded! Don’t be so naïve!” She tore her gaze from him only to be confronted by their current height. Despite her blush and false-fury, Blaze was forced to meet his gaze, “Don’t act like that was a success!”

“What’re you talking about, you took off!” He sounded so excited, “You managed to learn that so quickly, I was sure it’d be the hardest part, the rest should be a cinch!”

She felt him shift just a little, something popped into the corner of her vision; a certain black hat that’d been lost in her flight. Snatching it, simultaneously gripping him tight with her remaining arm, she used the garment to hide her face, “Stop being so naïve…it’s not going to be that easy.”

A brief silence overcame them and Blaze found herself shrinking further into her hat and, almost by mistake, deeper into his arms. Over the past handful of months, Blaze had been catching herself in these positions more and more often; every single time she had only herself to blame, though she’d usually berate him for his part in them. They’d be studying in the library, sitting side by side as they read, and her head would just so happen to find comfort on his shoulder, or they’d be walking across campus and she’d, eventually, notice that their fingers had intertwined. Prior to this year, Blaze hadn’t thought much of these occurrences, they’d just sort of happened, but idle gossip, fresh from the girl’s common room, had made her far more aware of these things.

Silver’s talent hadn’t gone unnoticed by their lecturers or, as Blaze had come to learn, their classmates. The bizarre bubbling sickness that Blaze had experienced when another student had expressed interest in the hedgehog and pried about their relationship was unlike anything she’d felt prior. Though she’d wanted to deny the rumour, she’d found herself entirely unable to.

Hesitantly, she flicked up the brim of her hat for a small glance at him. Despite her prior rudeness, he looked entirely unphased; the wizard in training was simply looking up at the sky and smiling, taking in the stars. The way the night-light seemed to colour his fur, let alone the expression it managed to put on his face, was just a little dazzling. It’d taken her a while to really understand it, but there was something rather… aesthetically pleasing about his form. Nothing she ever planned to admit aloud of course, especially not to him, but after that girl had mentioned it, the changes he’d undergone over the years and the way his eyes sparkled did make for a rather pleasing visage (even despite his silly robes).

Realising that she’d been thinking for much too long and noticing him turning back in her direction, Blaze quickly made a demand, “I want to try again.”

“Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready,” He affirmed, still smiling as his gaze returned to her, “You can stand on my feet if you want. That way you’d be up straight, it might help you get used to this.”

“It means I’ll be free of this embarrassing position, I’m willing to try anything,” She huffed but, moments later, caught herself and realised what she’d said. He was trying his best to help her, he probably didn’t even think this was embarrassing, “You’ll still… hold me, won’t you?”

“I won’t let go until you tell me too, I promise,” The hedgehog pledged.

She shifted in his grasp, clinging tightly to his shoulders, and, ever so gently, he slipped his hold from her legs. It took a little bit of fumbling but, eventually, she managed to perch herself on the tips of his boots. Despite how painful it’d surely be if they were on the ground, this change of position didn’t seem to bring him any discomfort as he glided his remaining free hand around her back.

The young witch peered over his shoulder and her gaze fell upon the thick cloud barrier beneath them. Up here, no lecturers or other students could see them; they were alone with the night’s celestial bodies. Though being above the clouds did frighten her, the fact that they couldn’t see the ground was making things a lot easier. She knew that Silver wouldn’t let her fall, she believed in his abilities, but having that a fluffy-fake ground beneath them was doing her a world of good. Gradually, she managed to shift some of the tension from her shoulders and hold him in a less life-or-death manner.

He seemed to notice the shift, “Alright, maybe you should start with your feet? That way we can keep holding each other.”

That made sense but, truth be told, letting go seemed a little easier than stepping off and into the abyss, “One foot at a time?” She hesitantly suggested.

“Try to use just enough energy to lift you but not to change how high you fly,” Silver recommended, “Once you’ve figured that out once, you should understand how it feels and be able to do it again.”

Blaze heaved a shallow breath and closed her eyes, “Okay… okay…”

She leant back just a little, allowing her left foot to depart from his frame. It took no more than a thought for her to produce a small flame but that would not provide enough thrust to keep her afloat. Slowly, gradually applying more power to her newfound thruster, Blaze felt precarious half of her body begin to shit up and away from the anchored half. Working down and up in smaller and smaller increments, she sought equilibrium for what must have been minutes before finally finding something close to it. She focused on the feeling of flames flowing freely from her heel, their exact measure and rate as well as the small pressure being put upon her knee and the greater one on the arch of her foot.

Once she’d held it for a few moments, she dared to open her eyes and look to Silver, “I think it’s time for the right one. Could you…” She hated the only way that she could think to phrase this, “Hold me a little tighter.”

Silver, without even hesitating, moved his hands to grasp the robes above her shoulder blades. The look in his eyes reinforced his prior promise and gave her all the motivation she needed. Her right foot left his boot and, though the shift in weight made her dip just a little, with its ignition, it was easy to make it match her left. Blaze found herself to be hovering, hanging in the sky by her own accord.

When she managed to tear her eyes from her boots, she found that his smile had tripled in size, “You’re doing it Blaze!”

“Sh-Shush,” She hissed, feeling herself grow redder as more flames sputtered from her soles, “I’m trying to concentrate.”

The feline took a moment; shifting the ball of her foot seemed to allow for a degree of dexterity on her part- if she angled her shoe correctly then the flames would correspond and allow her to drift. Slowly, gradually, Blaze managed to bring herself to circle the hedgehog and bring him to spin on the spot. Every time she dared to glance at him, she found an even greater look of amazement on his face. Eventually, finally, she decided to halt her practice.

“I think I’m ready,” She decided.

Silver simply nodded and, clearly trying not to disturb her, released the tension at his fingertips but did not shift his hands; he left that final move entirely up to her.

She slowly slipped from beneath his fingers but, just when as his arm were about to fall to his sides, dared to grasp his right hand, “I still want you to stay close though.”

Her movements were made more awkward and slow by her lack of an anchoring point but, soon, the two of them were gliding together. With each passing second of flight, as she acclimatised herself and grew accustomed to the movements, she felt the heavy iron ball in her gut gradually shrink. She refused to let herself think this was fun, especially not while she was holding his hand so tightly, but she did permit herself an internal admission that this wasn’t entirely awful. Skating over a sea of clouds, surrounded by starlight and hand in hand with her best friend? It was very difficult to think of this as awful, even if not seeing the ground was a huge part of it.

Tentatively, trying something new, Blaze managed to turn and face him while still flying in the same direction.

The shift came with a small increase in speed but Blaze took that in stride, “Is there anything you think I should try, Silver?”

“Well, the test is supposed to be fairly simple, it’s just a little obstacle course. It focuses on manoeuvring through the air…” He mused aloud before, in a serious tone, making a foolish suggestion, “If you’re alright with separating, we could play a game of tag?”

It was a childish proposition or, at least, that was Blaze’s first thought. Her second thought was far more positive though as she realised what his suggestion implied, his natural talent and experience flying meant that he could already soar to the academy’s standards. If she could even just follow his path then, surely, that meant she would pass too. There was only one problem- she’d have to separate from him.

Blaze brought herself to a halt, allowing her thumb to glide over his knuckles, “If I call out, I know you’ll come and catch me…” Something about this, assumedly the fact that her training had taken on such an embarrassing form, was rebolstering her blush, “But I’d like to hear you say it again.”

“If you fall, I’ll catch you, Blaze. I promise,” He swore, his smile totally vanished and his most serious face took its place, “You won’t even touch the clouds.”

Her fingers slipped from his, she was on her own in the sky, “So, how are we going to do this?”

“How about you fly away from me first and then, if I catch you, I’ll try to keep away from you?” He’d phrased it in such an honest way that, were it anyone else proposing it, she’d think they were being condescending. He really thought there was a chance that he wouldn’t be able to catch her and that he wouldn’t have to slow down so she could catch him.

Still, regardless of the difference between their skill, she was going to give this her best. Though it renewed that weight in her belly, even though she was certain that she would regret it mere moments later, Blaze pointed her toes skyward and rushed away from Silver, struggling to turn mid-air on order to see where she was going in this obstacle-less sky.

“W-Wait, Blaze, is that a yes?!” He called out and, by the sound of his voice, he wasn’t giving chase yet.

Deciding she needed this lead in order to make their game even remotely worthwhile, she didn’t answer him. Remembering the stabilisers she’d used for take-off, Blaze brought her hands to burn and, though she floundered for a moment, used their bonus thrust to shoot even further from him. That done, cloud after cloud vanishing beyond her feet, she dared to look over her shoulders and saw a cyan globule finally begin its shift towards her. Though she tried to fight it, a grin managed to wriggle its way onto her face as she looked forward. If she was bound to be caught and he’d surely gain on her soon, it was worth getting in a little practice… besides, he could surely use some training too.

With the simple quirk of her brow and through rolling her heels, Blaze feigned a movement left before shooting off towards the right. She didn’t even glance back at him after that, instead opting to try and alter her elevation; with a bit of effort, the young witch managed to align her body and crawl further into the sky as she flew away. Using her hands made all of this a lot easier, she could flare more energy into them to aid in adjusting elevation or simply increase the flames coming from one palm to force her path to bend.

“You’re doing great, Blaze!” A much too close voice called out, “I’m sure you’ll ace the test! You’re already so good!” It was getting closer by the second.

She’d known this would happen, it was an inevitability, but the pyrokinetic found that a competitive spark had stolen the spot of that metal mass in her gut. Her pulse was pounding, she knew her magic could hold out for another hour at minimum; she decided that the best way to learn was a trial by fire. Alternating hands and kicking as she went, Blaze managed to form eight quick zigzags before shooting left with all her will. Flare after flare burst from her limbs as she darted further and further above the clouds.

Unfortunately though, just as Blaze thought she was reaching the summit of what she could stomach, there was a flash of cyan light above. Blaze didn’t even have to glance to know what’d happened, Silver’s experience flying mean he’d clearly understood plotting the shortest route. Being in the lead was difficult, every harsh turn meant traveling further for the lead and a shortcut for the one behind. Simultaneous to that though, Silver was (perhaps unknowingly) about to teach her a technique she hadn’t even attempted yet. The only way to avoid him was to descend.

Blaze tried to lessen her output, but that proved far harder than increasing their potency. Once her upward thrust was spent, she began to plummet like a stone and fall feet first towards the clouds. Her hands flickered and sputtered as she tried to balance herself again, she straightened her back and shut her eyes tight as ignition after ignition failed to fully take hold. Finally, she managed to light her ignitions again… only to overdo it and rocket right back up. She shot right past him, very almost being caught.

As he rocketed up to give chase, frustrated, Blaze chose to continue to practice altitude control. Rather than snuff everything, she focused and manage to mute the flames on her feet. The difference was clear and immediate, she was slower and a lot shakier but this worked far better than trying to calm both sets of flames. She managed to drop directly in front of him only to then relight her boots and blast forward. The feline must have gotten too greedy and drawn too close because she soon felt something pad between her shoulder blades.

“Tag!” The moment she’d registered the touch, he’d called out as if they were kids on the playground.

She swivelled around in the air only to find he’d raced off in the other direction so quickly that he almost looked like a star on the horizon. Leaning into her movement, Blaze found herself flying faster than she ever had before. In the time it took to catch up to the grey wizard, Blaze had a moment to contemplate the rather miraculous change she’d experienced. She’d gone from being terrified of heights to dancing across the sky just like he could. Admittedly, she was certain those fears would return if she was on the other side of the cloud barrier or flying alone but flying around the test course with the instructors watching would surely prove easy enough. It’d been an exchange of tutelage, she’d given him notes and he’d helped her practice, but Blaze couldn’t help feeling a little indebted to her partner.

Some of that feeling waned when she caught sight of him and how he was flying though. The hedgehog flying with his back to the ground and his eyes trained upon her, he almost looked like he was sitting up in bed. Blaze understood why he’d chosen that position, it meant he’d been able to keep an eye on her and that he’d be able to fulfil his promise, but that didn’t stop it from stoking a more competitive aspect of her psyche.

It was just naivete, he didn’t know how cocky he was being, yet it still fuelled her drive! Blaze closed her fists for a moment, allowing pressure and tension to build in them just as she had when first taking off. It was terrifying to be frank but, knowing the direction she was rocketing and that the closer she was to him the safer she’d be, Blaze managed to steady herself and focus on building energy. Containing her flames slowed her in the short term, so much so that the grey hedgehog’s head cocked and he seemed to slow down. At the perfect second, just as she saw his mouth begin to open and the gap between them lingered around four dozen metres, Blaze reopened her palm.

Like catching a surprise shooting star out of the corner of his eye, he must have blinked in bafflement when he saw her for the first time. By the time he’d started to move she was already almost upon him, carried by sheer momentum more than thrust at that point, gaining more than a metre with each passing second. Finally, almost too late, he realised that he stood no chance of overtaking her- Silver’s arms opened wide and, with more than a little magic bolstering effort, he both was caught and managed to catch her.

Willing it as she entered his grasp, her flames snuffed themselves as any lingering momentum was absorbed by a combination of his psychic aura and fluffy body. Blaze found herself lying atop him, their muzzles very almost touching and the rims of their hats bumping. If it weren’t for the adrenaline currently coursing through her, she’d probably have had a lot more to say or complain about this situation but, for now at least, she was content to be back on the equivalent of stable ground.

“H-Hi,” He stuttered, plainly surprised and impressed by her showing.

“Hello,” She hummed, grasping at his shoulders to better secure herself, “How was that?”

His arms found her back and his smile quickly returned, she felt their bodies begin to descend, “You were incredible Blaze! You took to the air so well! You probably didn’t even need me for this,” That thought seemed to take the wind back out of his sails, “I-I’ll make up for the notes some other way… I’ll-

“You’re so naïve,” She cut him off, propping herself up slightly, “I wouldn’t have had the guts to come up here without you. You don’t have to worry about making anything up to me.”

The cloud barrier obscured her view of him for a moment or so but soon, she found his face and could see the grounds beneath. Weirdly enough, as she lay in his arms, it didn’t feel like the ground was all that far away. Or, well, that she wasn’t at risk of meeting it at ludicrous speeds.

Gently, slowly, he shifted upright and lowered the young witch to her feet before himself landing back near the heart of the amphitheatre. Now on the ground, a hold that’d once been for the sake of survival and security had transmuted into one born of comfort and kindness. Blaze found herself lingering in his grasp and in fact deepening her hold, the witch’s right arm managed to slip down and hold the small of his back. While she had performed subtle in this shift from practicality to affection, he wasn’t nearly so subdued in his shift. Her feet left the ground again as he hugged her with all his might, chortling as he did so.

When she returned to the ground for a second time and their eyes met again, bristles of heat crept across her muzzle. Without the moonlight, he was the only light for-

“And what time would the two of you call this?” A voice, tired and deep, sounded from one of the amphitheatre’s high seats.

Both their heads swivelled like they were about to be knocked off and their gaze fell upon a very cross and prickly looking figure, sat with a book in his right hand and crackling green energy in his left. The individual’s red eyes and dark robes, entirely lacking the oh-so-common hat most students and lecturers wore, gave away who they were and forced their joy to give way to panic and fear. Shadow the Hedgehog, the very lecturer who would be conducting the flying test, had caught them.

“Um,” Silver stammered, letting Blaze to the ground, “L-Late?”

“How astute,” He seemed to sneer, “And what say you of your current position, Blaze?”

“It’s my fault professor, I asked Silver to-

“N-No, it’s my fault!” Silver cut her off, “Blaze just wanted help, she did nothing wrong!”

“Endangering both your own and each other’s safety and being out of your dorms at such a late hour,” He tutted, “What kind of punishment to give you both.”

Blaze couldn’t help but throw a glance to Silver, the hedgehog looked entirely stern. No matter how they were dealt with, Blaze knew he would try to take it all on himself, just as she had. She was certain there was no way around it, that they’d both be punished, but, following a long and drawn out sigh, the usually cruel lecturer took a bizarre course of action.

“Pick up your things, go to your dorms and pray that I forget this infraction before I settle on a fitting detention,” Their eyes clashed again, confused, but before they could ask, the hedgehog gave a demand, “Well, go on, hurry along before I change my mind.”

They stood frozen for a second but, seeing his brows furrow, the two threw a quick glance to each other before rushing to pick up their things. He’d leaned in close as he went for his bag, “S-See you soon.”

“Yeah…” She managed to mumble, slinging her bag over her shoulders and allowing her shoulder to graze his, “Th-Thank you, Silver. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They were forced to part ways with that as their goodbye, Silver walking

“And do remember, regardless of clouds, if you’re going to make quite so much light at night then people are going to notice!” The old man concluded his chiding, likely returning to his book, “We’re hardly in the right position to see an aurora…”

The walk back to the dorms was lonelier than her walk there by a wide margin. Though they’d parted so suddenly, or perhaps due to it, she could still see his smile in her mind. When they met again tomorrow, she’d try to make it up to him, try to engage first contact like she had in the sky, but the more that wizard’s grin lingered the more embarrassed she felt. While the pyrokinetic doubted Professor Shadow was the type to gossip, if word of their actions spread then the rumours would only get worse. Hopefully no one else had seen them tonight but, by the sound of it, they’d been rather hard to miss…

#silvaze #Blaze the Cat #Silver the Hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog #silverxblaze #fanfiction

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illicitivywp · 4 years ago

Text

mal de vivre.

The morning that Harry wakes up and you're not sleeping peacefully beside him is the worst of his entire life.

He can sense that you're not there. The air still circulates whiffs of your caramel shampoo and the breeze of your automatic fan that you always insist on leaving on all night still whirs leisurely and tickles the back of his neck.

Regardless, the room is vacant. He doesn't have to open his eyes to know that much.

For now, he remains entirely numb. Immune to the flooding sobs and intolerable agony and festering anger, he supposes it's in his best interest to stay like that for a while.

For a few days, at least. Until he can fully process your absence. He's not certain how long it takes the average person to wholly recognise an entire chunk of themselves missing, but he figures he's already suffered enough.

Surely, the universe isn't that cruel.

Your love is delightedly grand, and with its sudden unavailability, he feels so dejectedly vague.

He's clearly not perceiving time correctly, perhaps it's his distant concentration or maybe even his body's method of rejecting life and the wretched torture of its innate malice.

A few times, he's experienced sleep paralysis. The first, horrifying occasion is long-forgotten, when he was seven or so - it happened only after staying up until one in the morning to watch a horror movie that he'd been specifically warned not to watch and a towering vacuum of danger stood solid as stone at the end of his bed.

If it weren't for his fingertips subconsciously tracing featherlight scribes of your name on his forearm, he might reasonably assume he's haunted with the condition once again.

A clattering of paws on hard floorboards injects a little more reality into his thoughts, and he still can't bear, physically, to turn over and greet the sweet puppy you'd snuck home and surprised him with upon his arrival home from work around a year ago, knowing that his acceptance of a familiarly-shaped void is waiting just inches away.

Eventually, and after another chaotic scramble of claws in need of a cut, Chi is bouncing enthusiastically at his side and attempting an ambitious leap onto the mattress. She fails theatrically, landing in a resounding thud on her back and launching back to her feet, completely unaware of her owner's awaiting grief.

Masking his greatest fears with scooping a palm beneath Chi's belly and hauling her upwards to nestle into his chest, the reposition forces him to lay on his back (she's always detested laying on her side, especially when smothered with adoring cuddles) and, like the coward he truly is, his eyes focus adamantly on a random spot of the pale ceiling. With every minute shuffle, it becomes more and more achingly apparent that you're really not here.

And if everything runs correctly, you'll squirm and giggle graciously at his waking before returning his kiss, to his lips, this time, and he'll suggest applying a little moisturiser, like he always does, and you'll love him like you should.

When his eyelids snap open and his head curves breezily to your claimed side of the bed, he's somewhat unsurprised to confirm that his life truly has transformed to a dreadful bundle of tragedy. In your imposing place, is a neatly-made bed and an envelope.

A single, white envelope, stained by the sweet, flowing cursive that could flow only from your touch.

Chi leaps naturally to the spectacle, sniffing curiously at the letter and nudging it around a little, whilst Harry is so unexplainably pained that he's unable to move. Swallowing thickly, he's not certain word-for-word what lies in the confines of this envelope, but he does know it'll confirm your leaving him, and for some strange reason, he's relieved you left an explanation, at least.

A souvenir of you to hang onto forever, along with the millions of other items and memories of yours in his possession.

Carefully removing it from Chi's vicinity and replacing the object of her attention with a random squeaky toy that he'd discovered burrowed beneath his bed a few nights ago, he traces your exquisite handwriting with his fingertip and reads along with inaudible movements of his mouth; For Harry, mon amour.

In that moment, he realises profoundly that he'll never get to request hearing you say different words in your accent again.

The amount of times he implored relentlessly to hear je t'aime and have it accompanied with an endearing kiss is infinite.

Harry, my love,

I'm so incredibly sorry that I couldn't handle the pain.

Seeing your face cures any anguish I feel, but not this time.

I really, really tried; I know you did, too. I wanted it to work out, I prayed every day that our suffering would magically end and we could return to our love, I hoped that one day I would wake and cuddle you tightly and describe this awful nightmare I'd had.

Possibly, I may write to you in the future; please, don't try to contact me, it won't work and you know it's for the best. My family and close friends know where I am, where I will be, and they also know not to tell you if you ask.

I wish I could kiss all of your heartache away and protect you from all evil in this world, but I feel my presence is detrimental to your recovery.

My love for you is never-ending. Please be okay.

Forgive me and love someone else like you loved me. Let someone else love you like I loved you. Tellement, tellement.

Forever, I'll think of you and how unbelievably content I felt waking up next to you every day for seven-hundred and eighty (? - I'm estimating) mornings straight.

I will never, ever leave our love behind, and I adore you more than I can express. Your strength and resilience are admirable, and you are truly the best thing to ever happen to me.

Mon bébé, I miss you terribly.

Toujours, ton amour.

Chi tugs eagerly on her lead at the sight of the familiar entrance to her home, Harry in tow right behind. Sludgy snow muddies his shoes and soaks the hem of his jeans. His puppy's paws are undoubtedly drenched, too, but her fur is protected valiantly by her favourite jacket. He'd purchased it from a specialist store in France a year prior, and, since surprising her with the present upon his shared return, it'd become her primary option during the winter months.

Retrieving a reasonable pile of letters from his designated section, a rapid flick through displays bills, scams and all of the usual junk he usually receives. He offers his elderly neighbour a polite smile and holds open the door with his knee to construct a clear path for her exit.

He grimaces slightly at the teeth-shaped arc of damp dents into his mail - he hadn't particularly considered the repercussions of carrying it that way - and unclips Chi's lead, allowing her to run rampage through his airy apartment. Absently dropping his keys into its small dish of residence and taking a closer inspection at his post to infiltrate any wrong addresses or scams, he selects an apple from his fruit bowl and steals one firm chunk before noticing something peculiar.

Groomed eyebrows knitting together in confusion, he plucks one particular letter from the bunch and stacks it to the top. Perplexed by the sorely familiar curve of the writing scrawled on the front, his head shakes in denial - you wouldn't have, surely.

Discarding of all other mail on his kitchen counter, he's puzzled beyond belief; you'd left with no verbal warning and a letter that, admittedly, had been the source of several bouts of severe depression and, in spite of its awful affects, read dutifully every single day since your disappearance.

Rashly, he wishes you hadn't changed your phone number and email address shortly before leaving so he could possibly contact you regarding this mystery. However, he knows just as well as you clearly foresaw; his topic of discussion wouldn't be only the letter.

Tearing open the corner cautiously, he's incredibly delicate with checking inside the envelope once open to ensure it contains only his presumed note. Reviewing the front with a scouring gaze of disbelief, it really, truly has come from you.

He can't remember how many times he read each postcard that you'd gifted him with at the very beginning of your relationship. You'd recently made the permanent move from France to England, and, in a new country with limited knowledge of the native language, Harry had unintentionally become your beacon of comfort here.

With his fluent French and English, he was the perfect contender for kindly correcting your terminology and educating you on the essential etiquettes of Britain. Within weeks, however, your sweet smile had changed from an enjoyable sight during your frequent coffee shop meetings to something he craved.

He misses reading your silly, awful puns based around your home country, especially his favourite. A laughably unfunny joke paired with a matching scribble of the two of you; what do french fries do when they meet? They ketchup!

Harry,

I feel awful for waiting so long to speak to you again.

Your voice and your hugs. I've imagined them every single day.

I miss my Chi. How is she? I hope she's not missing her maman. Give her a kiss from me.

And the biggest kiss to yourself, because you deserve it, mon tout.

I'm inexplicably sorry for leaving so abruptly; I just couldn't take much more. The reminders were too much. Seeing your inconsolable pain every day was too much.

I'm so, so selfish, but I still believe allowing you to heal without my troubles was the best and easiest path for both of us.

I'm sure you noticed, but I may have stolen one of our pictures. It was your favourite, and that's why I had to choose that one, I suppose. Horrible, again.

I miss your dimples (and irritating you by poking them all the time). I miss your lips, they were so soft. No wonder you always bossed me around with the lip balm - I have my own now, I take it everywhere with me.

It smells like caramel.

Most of all, I miss your love. I've never known someone to love like you do. You were, are, and always will be, incredible.

Have you found someone to love yet?

Do you still think about me? If yes, please don't.

It's not fair of me to appear out of nowhere like this and not allow you a chance to reply. If you wish, post your letter to my maman's house - I'm not there, just to crush any other hope you have, but I'll receive it.

I'll be sorry forever, mon amour.

Sois gentil avec toi-même.

Câlins pour toujours, your baby.

Auriele,

I'm so thankful you decided to reach out again. I've missed you. Tellement, tellement.

Chi is brilliant, still eating everything and constantly in need of a haircut. She does miss you.

My hurt is still prevalent, I've accepted that it always will be. I truly don't believe it can be fixed again, but I'm still trying.

I spent the two weeks after your leaving searching for every single picture in existence of us. I cried so many times, I wish I could tell you that I'm wholly recovered and that you're fully forgiven, but I can't.

I think I counted them all. It's either three-hundred and seventy-seven or one-thousand, one-hundred and two (I have two sticky notes labelled pictures, I'm not sure which is correct.)

No one could ever love me like you do, tu es le meilleur.

I suppose that answers both of your questions.

Thank you for the chance to respond. I was incredibly confused when I received your thoughtful letter. I'm assuming by this one's destination being your maman's house, you're in France? You don't have to answer that. I would understand.

Mon bébé chéri, je t'aime.

Harry x

Harry,

It was the least I could do. I hurt you doubly and you never deserved that.

Tell her I love her. Buy her an ice cream for me (note the two dollars also enclosed in this envelope!)

There aren't enough apologies in the world to properly cover the extent of my mistakes, but I'll continue gathering as many as I can. And send them straight to you.

I also wish you could truthfully claim that you're okay, and I hope, with time, that you will be. It's all you ever deserved, mon chéri. You don't ever have to forgive me. I understand entirely if you hate me.

I wouldn't be surprised if those numbers were both low counts. I loved your face, as superficial as it sounds, but it truly was prettier than anything, and my favourite thing was always surrounding myself with it. Aussi longtemps que je pouvais.

My baby, I only tried my hardest to love you, and I sincerely hope I haven't ruined your idea of love so much that I'm your standard. Please, travel, find people to connect with, fall in love with a place, if not a person.

I bet Chi would love Spain. Australia, maybe? Thailand? Your choice entirely. You always were smarter than me (i.e. I left you - doesn't get much dumber.)

I am in France, feel free to ask any question you want about my current life if you decide to write back - you really don't have to. It's okay. You're still perfect.

Just not my address. It's so selfish of me to hide away from you when you're the one who deserves closure, but I'm not ready to share that information. Again, I'm sorry, and I hope you understand.

Tu me manques. Tu me manques ma maman et mon père. Tu me manques au cœur.

All my love, Auriele x

Every day, his thoughts are plagued with ideas of how to write his next letter. Your previous few communications ran smoothly; you seem incredibly apologetic and, as much as he would've gladly ignored the past tense use of 'love' in your most recent letter, he can't help but realise the difference from your first each time he reads it.

He's not certain why his first letter practically poured from his pen and before he knew it, it was sealed, posted and received. This time, however, he can't even construct a way to greet you.

Has distance and time really weakened your connection that much? His favourite childhood Disney movies would be ashamed.

The heartache you've endured together is insufferable, the bitterness remaining fresh and the misery continuing to roll onwards with him, and yet, you're both still alive. Perhaps, he should be a little more thankful.

He's tested out various support groups over the past few months; they appear to help in the moment, but once he returns home to a completely empty house, - aside from Chi - he realises all of his progress to be entirely fake.

How can he realistically recover from his insurmountable loss in solitude?

An apartment which used to breathe vibrant life and excitement for the future, diminished to nothing but silence.

He might as well have lost his house, too. Every second he spends there, surrounded by reminders of his grief, is draining. Of course, if he were a millionaire, he would've discovered a lovely, one bed flat with wide, open floors and windows. If he were a millionaire, though, maybe none of this agony would've ever happened.

He could’ve fixed it.

Regardless, he didn't, and now he returns home every single day, monotonous and finding solace only in rereading your letters and running through his local park with Chi, no matter the weather.

Sometimes, he hears the faint echo of your melodious voice ringing in his ear; mon doux bébé. For a moment, he believes you may be talking to him, but with a resounding giggle of contentment, you never were.

Within a month, he lost both of his sweet baby girls, and the pain is simply too much to comprehend.

Elle, mon cœur,

Firstly, I apologize for my late reply. This letter was, for some reason, incredibly difficult to write.

You hurt me never. Life hurt me, and it hurt you, too, and I'm sorry it's so cruel.

Chi adored her ice cream - vanilla, your favourite - and said thanks! (complimentary picture attached, for you).

Sympathy and apologies aren't a cure. I've received enough of them to know. I hope you have, too. We might not accept it and it might not heal our pain, but it is nice to know you have people by your side.

Mon amour, I would/could never come close to hatred for you. You are my entire heart, and you own everything within it.

I hope, one day, I can forgive you. I hope you can forgive me. We both made mistakes. We're both accountable, and so is fate. Unfortunately, it wasn't on our side, and we have to welcome that.

Your face is certainly Top Five list of physical attributes, which goes as followed:

1. your lips. I know I complained about them being dry all the time, but I miss them, still.

2. your eyes. Somewhere between the ocean and a cottage filled with flowers, they were paradise.

3. your thighs. I am a man - a broken one, but a man nonetheless - and they are certainly the most family-friendly feature I could think of.

4. your smile. Even on my darkest days, your smile was heaven. I hope you're smiling right now. I wish I could see it.

5. your face? All of the above and everything else. Was that cheating?

I wish I could leave here. I wish I could find a small, tropic island where Chi and I can get tipsy on Virgin Mary's and surf all day, but I feel it wouldn't be fair for both of us to run.

Although, Chi would certainly have a great time in Thailand. She told me so.

Did I mention she misses you? We miss you.

I have more questions than you can imagine. This is only my second letter, however, so I suppose I'll stick to three for now, (sorry for all the lists!)

How are you? Mentally? Physically?

Have you made new friends whilst you've been out there?

Would you ever visit London again?

I miss you forever.

Ton bébé.

Harry x

Harry,

It's more tough to write my letters than you might assume. No need to apologise, I understand.

Life is shit. I thought I had accepted that. I never imagined how evil it could be.

Chi, my baby, looks so pretty. I love her haircut (number 8694743? out of infinite).

I have heard my fair share of sympathy. At first, I felt bitter. They didn't understand what I had suffered, they didn't understand the pain I felt. With time, I realised that, sometimes, sorry is all you need to hear to feel a little better. To feel like you're managing life, at least.

I wish I could believe I deserve it, but I truly don't.

My mistakes seem perpetual. I'm constantly remembering new ones. Things I could've noticed faster, signs that I should've recognised. Yours are nothing. You made no mistakes, mon amour, please believe that. As much as fate has been my least favourite higher power for the past year, I agree about welcoming our own.

I would make a list of my personal favourites of your appearance, but I'd be here all day, and I'm meeting with a friend in an hour (your second question - check).

It wasn't fair for either of us to run. I think it's turned out for the best, however.

I can imagine Chi passed out on the beach. You both deserve a holiday. Go to Scotland, or something, at least. Just away from London.

I miss you both. Much more than I can express.

I'm well. Mentally; it's a struggle, but that's just life, I suppose. Physically; my sickness stopped a while ago. I hope your headaches did, too, but I've been searching for cures for those for a long time.

Yes! I've made quite a few close friends. They all know and love you. I'll tell them you asked.

London holds far too many memories for me to bear. You're the only one I can stand. Maybe one day.

Tellement de câlins.

Auriele.

The second your letter arrives and is read fully three times over, Harry's scrambling to collect his fancy paper and ink pen, thousands of ideas about how to reply brimming in his head.

Pen to paper, however, his mind is entirely blank.

You're inching closer to addressing the subject of your pain, and so is he. So far, the only discussions you've had regarding that difficult topic have ended either in awful arguments or uncontrollable, endless crying and they all occurred before your disappearance.

Since then, you've had ten months and seventeen days shared to mature from and process the situation. Perhaps, if you were to have a conversation about it now, it would be beneficial.

Harry is aware of the solution to his strange writer's block and urges to attempt to fix your hurt, but he's not quite sure if he's ready. Physically forcing himself up from his cluttered desk, he tries not to think of the main event when changing his sloppy t-shirt and joggers to jeans and a jumper; it's February, so the wind is still well and alive but, luckily for Chi and the duration of her walks, the temperatures are beginning to rise.

His destination is barely a thirty minute leisurely stroll through the city away, and he feels shameful to admit that this is his first visit in ten and a half months. Several times, he's gathered his courage to stand on the pavement, surveying the vast area but never making it closer than the protective fences.

This time, though, he's determined to make it. And he will, with je t'aime's and sweet giggles bubbling in his ears.

Your je t'aime's and her sweet giggles.

Auriele,

Life will continue to surprise us. It may be malicious, but it's also given me you, so I guess there are a few reasons to be grateful.

I think it's more like *8694744 out of infinite, and I'm sure she'll have many more unpleasant trips to the groomers in the future.

You are handling life impeccably, considering all. You deserve showers of recognition for just being here.

No one has ever been more deserving of my love, and no one ever will.

Please, don't blame yourself entirely. Yes, there were signs. Signs that we both should've seen earlier. We knew as much as everyone else. We can't know if things would be different if we'd noticed them, because they're not.

I'm glad you're enjoying life in France. Is it peaceful? Is it too far to ask if you're living with one of your new friends? What're their names, if you don't mind my asking?

If I were to go on holiday right now, Paris would be my first choice.

I'm glad you're feeling better, I hope you continue to improve mentally in the future. I wish you nothing but true happiness.

If you're ever here, I'd be honoured to see you again.

This might surprise you. Before I wrote this letter, I went to visit her.

I haven't since we were there together.

I talked to her for hours about my life and my pain and your letters and your pain and anything I'd love to say to you if I knew how. Meline always was the best listener, no offence to you. She just understands.

I miss her. I miss you. I miss my babies.

Please, send me a picture of you (always topping lists) in your next letter. I need to see you now. I bet you're glowing.

Toujours, Harry x

Harry, mon amour,

I feel as if I should address the end of your letter first, because I certainly wasn't expecting it. I cried a lot. I'm still crying as I write this.

It feels nice to feel.

I've been so numb to it all. I know I should sob every day, think of her every single second. I don't. That may make me an awful person, but I always preferred not to lie. Especially to you. I don't think the gravity has quite hit me yet.

Back to the normal, top to bottom of your letter.

My family is a gift. My parents, you and Meline, specifically. I've never admired anyone more.

I miss Chi. Especially today, for some reason. Send more pictures of her when you next write. (I enclosed an updated picture of me in town, if you hadn't noticed! It was taken last week.)

I had concerns. Concerns that I didn't follow up on. We knew something was wrong, but we did everything we could, right? We found help. We found medicine. Why didn't it work?

How fucking cruel can life possibly be?

It's much quieter than London. The air quality is visibly better. I am, actually. My closest friends are Leon and Aline. I'm living with them!

Paris is about as good a holiday as you can get. If I'm ever near you, whatever country it happens to be in, I'll be sure to see you.

The last part of your letter. I already touched upon it but not nearly enough.

I haven't said, heard or read her name in eleven months. I miss it. I miss your voice. And her laughs. She was so, so lively and enthusiastic for life.

It's so unfair that she didn't get the chance.

And I agree; she always was a fantastic listener. I told her about our issues more than I should've.

I wish I could hear her again. Her name wasn't Meline Risette Styles for nothing. Her laughs were so pretty. I could've listened on repeat.

I did. For a year.

I miss her.

I miss you. I miss your warmth. I miss your heart and your love and your smile and everything about you.

I miss normality.

When we thought things would be okay.

We were wrong, and hindsight, that's okay, too.

We will heal eventually, I trust that life can't take much more away from me.

Tout mon amour, Auriele x

Since that day, Harry's visited Meline every Sunday without fail - it's only been three weeks, but going in the first place was an unimaginable step.

He even combined Chi's walk with the most recent, and each time, entering, staying at and emerging from the cemetery becomes easier.

The first time, he paced through the gates several times before building the bravery to even step inside without running back. His flight or fight instinct had been touchy the whole time, bias towards flight the entire time.

He just wanted to be as far away from the source of his pain as possible.

At the same time, he just wanted his daughter back. Alive and healthy.

Once he'd settled, laid on the ground like a madman next to her grave, he never wanted to leave her again. He even brought her flowers and a little teddy bear from a shop he'd passed on his hurried journey there.

It was well and truly dark by the time he even considered returning home, because he'd rather be with his sweet baby than alone at home.

Now, Chi sniffs inquisitively around at the bundles of flowers placed on surrounding graves whilst Harry converses with his dead child's grave like she was as animated and eager as he remembered.

It's a little questionable for his sanity, but extremely helpful for his own mental health. And he's trying to fix them both.

He just wishes so much that he'd pushed for more tests in the hospital. If he could, he'd reject their diagnosis and prescription of heart medication and an inhaler for when her asthma flared up.

They claimed she had a weakened respiratory system and, subsequently, her heart didn't deal well under stress, mostly due to her premature birth.

They were correct.

However, they were entirely wrong when they sent you all home with a tub of medicine and advice to lower any potential stressors around her.

Harry remembers scoffing to himself; she was one, what could possibly be stressing her that much?

Apparently, a lot of things.

Your je t'aime's and her sweet giggles.

There's truly nothing better.

Auriele,

I understand completely about any emotion feeling refreshing. For a while, I felt immune to it. I cried and I got angry, but nothing ever really set in.

I'm thankful that I can feel now and it doesn't destroy me.

You're not at all a bad person, or a bad parent. Often, I wish I could forget about her. And not just to remove the pain for a day or two. Also, I appreciate the honesty.

Important things must be talked about first. And while this paragraph isn't quite at the top of my letter, it certainly is my most admiritive.

You're so, so unbelievably beautiful. Even more so, now.

Your eyes are still paradise. That picture is stuck onto the cork board in the kitchen forever.

We did absolutely everything in our power to help our baby. As soon as we noticed an issue, we took her to the hospital. Maybe they accidentally underestimated her condition, maybe they just assumed it'd be treated with that medication.

Either way, we helped her as much as we could. And you were, are, and always will be the most incredible mother.

Meline was lucky, truly. She loved you so much.

As it turns out, life can be our greatest enemy. It's difficult to control and even harder to accept, but everything happens for a reason, I suppose.

Leon and Aline sound wonderful. I know it's not my place, but tell them I said thank you for being there for you? You don't have to.

I've never known someone deserve a full, healthy life more than our sweet girl, and it's an injustice to steal that opportunity from her at such a young age.

She would've been two next week. I'm sure you don't need reminding, but I'm still trying to handle my feelings about it. I already know her birthday is going to be the worst day since she died.

Meline Risette Styles deserves the world, as do you. Please don't be afraid to take it. You've earned it.

Her name still brings me so much joy; little honey, pleasant little laugh. It was such an apt description, in her short life.

Life can always take more, but it gives things that are so wonderful. Sois optimiste.

Tout mon amour et câlins, Harry x

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#harry styles #letters #heartbreak #sad books #harry

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marie-dufresne · 4 years ago

Text

@exsiliumductoris

Stepping out of the train station and into the city, Marie felt oddly out of place. It could have been because she was in the same outfit she’d been wearing for the past five or so months (when she was even wearing clothes. At some point it had become more practical to wrap up in a fur and leave it at that), worn down to practically threads by her standards, yet ballet flats that were practically brand new.

She had no makeup on to speak of (in public of all places) and was, despite her now tighter fitting clothing since being fed properly on a regular basis, also without a bra, the damned thing having split right into two halves and rendering itself useless.

At least she wouldn’t be recognized.

In the pocket of her jacket she had some money that Veld had given her and a piece of paper with a name and the number of someone who would get her a new identity and the proper paperwork to travel freely out of the country and into almost any of her choosing.

He owed Veld.

Make a good life for yourself, he’d told her before they parted.

Amidst the bustling of Prague she sighed, stepping out of the way and making herself small by a lamp post. She didn’t know what that meant.

What she did know was that she needed clothes and a hotel. Locating the shopping mall was simple. She practically had radar for the finer things in life and though she was eyed by the sales woman for her incredibly average appearance, Marie paid no mind, flipping over the tag of the dress she’d set out to purchase.

Her heart sank.

The dress alone cost almost half of what Veld had given her. There was no way she could provide herself with a new wardrobe here. With tears in her eyes, Marie dropped the tag and turned away, realizing how little she really knew about surviving on her own.

“You might try MY,” drawled the sales clerk, examining the diamonds on her fingers, “perhaps better suited for your….budget.”

Thanking her, Marie left the boutique, and, locating a directory, was pleased to find this ‘My’ was an anchor store and she wasn’t likely to get lost finding it.

The clothing selection, she found, was severely lacking in…well anything she cared for, really. But then again, she’d been living practically primitive for nearly half a year and had found herself quite happy in doing so, so purchasing a few bits of clothing she might have to share the style of the masses was not the most horrible thing she’d ever endured.

And to her surprise, they had everything. Undergarments, pajamas, hair accessories, makeup (bargain brand, but still), purses, shoes, and even a not-quite-awful and sort-of-formal-depending-on-her-hairstyle dress she might be able to wear should she choose to treat herself to a drink at a place more her scale.

She even found a new suitcase.

Leaving the mall she encountered a small tourist cart where she was able to pick up a few brochures and pamphlets in English and sought out a budget-friendly hotel. Family-friendly, it said. That was likely to be affordable enough without being questionable. She was right.

Feeling successful, she checked into the hotel and rolled her new suitcase containing her entire new life, into the little room and when she laid eyes on the shower, she let out a squeal and practically jumped from her clothes and underneath the running, hot water. Oh how such a simple pleasure was a luxury.

The towels and robe provided by the hotel may have been of moderate quality but to Marie, it was like entering the world again and when she flopped down on the bed, she smiled. Life could be good, if lived on her own terms.

She sat up, digging in her jacket pocket for the piece of paper Veld had given her, and scooted closer to the telephone, reading the name and numbers over and over again until she wasn’t reading them anymore, but simply…staring through the paper.

Mmm….maybe not tonight. She put the paper back in her pocket. Maybe she’d wait just…another day.

She didn’t sleep that night, the sounds of the city ringing through her ears and thundering in her head. They were loud, obnoxious, unnatural noises she’d forgotten about. Here there was no crackling of a dying evening fire, and no steady heartbeat of another person. It was screeching and yelling and music and she was overly aware of all of it.

The next morning, though she’d had little sleep, she was determined to have a good day. It was the last day she’d spend in Prague, she decided, and while she was there, she might as well do some touristing.

She had breakfast at a cafe, walked some fashionable streets, and when she found the library, she decided to see what they might offer by means of nearby attractions. There was a sign in the lobby she couldn’t quite read, but she recognized the wifi logo and the currency, and the image of a clock.

Maybe…just for a few moments she could rent some time on a computer. There was something she was curious about. Into the search engine went her name.

Gossip blogs had plenty to say about her death. None of it good, of course, but she brushed those aside, looking for an actual news article and found exactly one.

One.

“…where Californian heiress fell victim to the brutality of Czech mountain terrain. Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Dufresne have refused to speak about the loss and wish to mourn in peace. No services will be held.”

She hadn’t even been named.

Angrily she clicked away, returning to the search and typing out Harold Davenport. Pages of articles of the great tragedy that befell the ‘philanthropist’ and ‘business guru’ assaulted her eyes and had she been one to make more a scene, she might have thrown the monitor from the table. Instead, she clicked out of everything and with angry tears in her eyes, stormed silently from the library.

Even in death she meant nothing to anyone.

On the steps of the library she sat off to the side, tucking her face into her knees and sobbed. The benefit of city folk was that they were city folk and had better things to do than bother with someone who may or may not be crying and she was left alone.

When she was calm enough to stand, she walked aimlessly, not knowing what exactly to do anymore. She’d lost interest in being a tourist. She needed to decide where to go from here. London and Paris were too obvious. She had too many connections in both places. Anywhere in the United States put her too close to Arthur.

Australia? New Zealand?

No, too many creepy crawlies that were beyond the appropriate size. Tahiti was a nice idea. It was her favourite place in the world, after all, but it was expensive and she wasn’t exactly equipped with the capital to set up residence there. It would be a great place to establish herself as a photographer though.

She sighed. But she didn’t have her camera. It was at the bottom of Veld’s boar pit. She wondered if it had survived. It was in its protective bag, inside of the suitcase. Well, it didn’t matter now. Still, she wondered if he’d look through her things. If he’d look at her photos. There were some of herself on that card, she remembered.

She wondered if he’d miss her. She grunted. “Probably not,” she whispered to herself as she walked, “useless burden.”

There was a pang in her heart as she thought about not being cared for by yet another person, but this pang was small and dull, as if she’d made it up to torment herself. The greater pain came with remembering he wasn’t next to her in the bed when she’d tried to sleep.

Get over it, get over it.

Of course they’d grown close. Of course they’d grown intimate. Two people cooped up in a cabin for five months were bound to have sex eventually. That’s just how the world worked. It didn’t mean it meant anything.

Well, it had meant something to her. She wouldn’t deny it. She’d hold those memories close to her heart. She’d allowed him in. She’d chosen him, even if, admittedly, the options were limited, she had genuinely wanted him and he hadn’t paid a single penny for her.

She stopped at a deli for something in between lunch and dinner, a hot sandwich loaded with more meat than she’d ever been allowed outside the cabin before, having acquired the taste for it and finding herself craving it now.

Back in her hotel, she took to the complimentary pad of paper and pen, trying to decide where she might decide to live. Singapore was an enticing option, but like Paris and London, she knew far too many people who frequented the area and the circles of the rich and powerful were small. Crossing someone’s path was inevitable.

Both Ireland and Scotland were possibilities. There wasn’t anyone in either of those countries large enough for Arthur to deal with and they were English speaking lands. That was a plus. She thought some more, tapping the pen against the little desk in the room. Both of those options were a little…chilly for her tastes.

“Scotland, Ireland…Germa…no….Greeeeece?”

She put a question mark next to that one, then promptly scribbled it out. Lamb was too high on their list of favourite meats.

“Oh! Spain!”

She’d been to Spain several times and enjoyed the climate, the food, the people, and they were lovers of the arts. Almost too cultured for her family, truthfully, and it had only ever been a place clients had taken her to on their holidays. She favored Barcelona.

The Spanish were a passionate bunch too. Not that she wanted to take advantage of men exactly, but she didn’t see the harm in securing a temporary boyfriend for temporary lodgings while she got on her feet. She would even be honest about her reason for being in the city. A photographer making a name for herself—

She frowned. It would be hard to claim to be a photographer without equipment. She didn’t have money for all the equipment she needed. She didn’t even have money for the sort of camera she preferred and that was…one thing she simply wouldn’t budge on.

Sighing, her hand found her hair and she rested her elbow on the desk. Stupid money. If only there were some way to…

Her eyes fell on the little black dress hanging up on the back of the hotel door. She knew where the swankiest hotels were, and the lofty bars that sat below the rooms the visitors kept.

That evening found her at the bar, dressed and made up to entice, nursing a glass of white wine, her cheap lipstick leaving a kiss on the rim of her glass. A man sat down beside her but she paid him no mind. They would come to her. They always had. Whether they left putting koruny in her purse or not was entirely up to them.

“You’re new.”

With no one else at the bar top, Marie turned, knowing she’d been addressed.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re new,” the man repeated, all knowing eyes and thick accent, “to this bar.”

“It’s a hotel,” she pointed out, “everyone is new.”

“Maybe this is true, yes, but you are working.”

Irritation rose up in her chest then. Was she so obvious? “I am waiting for someone,” she clarified instead.

The man chuckled. “Ah. Yes. I’m sure you are waiting for many someones. But here now, is only me.”

With slightly narrowed eyes, she studied him. Early ffities by the looks of it, well groomed, sporting a rolex and tailored suit; he had money. Then again, so did almost everyone else coming through the doors of this hotel. Everyone except her.

“You seem to think you know a lot about me,” she replied, taking a sip of her wine and fully intending to ignore him.

“Mmm,” he hummed, “maybe I assume but only a working girl who is new here would sit at this bar in costume jewelry and a hmmmm….” he waved his hand in the air a bit, calculating the currency in his head, “…sixty dollar dress.”

Well.

He had here there.

Now the question was: did he believe her cheap attire was a reflection of her skills? Did he think her out of her element and would be be unwilling to pay?

“Well,” she cooed, leaning over to him, “I don’t see the point in spending all my money on a dress that is going to spend the night on the floor.”

Her glass was at her lips again. “Besides, men usually don’t notice these sorts of things.”

“Ah.” He motioned for the bartender to bring her another glass. “Maybe not the boys you played with in…America, is it? Boston maybe. They will not know any better. But here in Prague…men, we know.”

She didn’t know what in her face changed, but he picked up on it, quirking a brow and giving her a smirk.

“You do know men,” he noted softly, “and yet here you are.”

Accepting the new glass, she straightened her back, looking over the rim through her lashes. She wasn’t accustomed to being read so easily by strangers and she was willing to admit her pride was hurt. She had been good at what she did, as involuntary as it had been.

“I took some time off,” she replied, lips turning up softly, “not by choice.”

The man beside her tended to his own drink for a moment, before his hand found her thigh and he leaned over.

“You will come with me and if I am satisfied, I will give you ten thousand dollars.”

Marie’s eyes flicked to the side, then down to his hand. His drink hit the bar top, thumb and forefinger snapping up to take hold of her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“And you will return tomorrow looking like a woman who can afford to sit at my brother’s bar.”

These words were colder now, almost threatening and he squeezed, though not hard enough to bruise. “The fee to do business here is thirty percent.”

Marie nodded and for a month, she returned to what she knew. There was money to be made in the escort business, particularly when the fee was paid directly to her and not her father.

After a month, she met a trust fund baby on vacation with a bunch of his buddies. She didn’t care for orgies, but they were her age and not nearly smart enough to keep their money in their pockets. Easy targets. The whole weekend ended in one of them setting her up in a penthouse flat as he cancelled his return trip home, opting instead to stay in Prague with her, living the high life.

While she’d taken the name ‘Poppy’ for work, this boy toy of hers had opted instead to call her ‘Puppy’, a pouty little pet name he held for her when he wanted to get his way.

Marie had not touched the money Veld had given her. It didn’t seem right to spend it. This was not the ‘good life’ he’d meant for her to make for herself, and guilt ate at her whenever she thought about him. She had more money than she’d ever need. Both in cash and jewelry. Her boyfriend had bought her a luxury car she couldn’t drive. That alone could buy her a pleasant country cottage if she sold it.

She wasn’t pleased with herself. She wasn’t even particularly enjoying her life. As she nursed her sore cheek outside on the balcony, even that was a generous assessment.

She hated herself.

She’d found what she knew, what she was comfortable with, and like a coward had crawled back into its toxic embrace—a life of distraction, of pretending.

Her boyfriend didn’t love her. She didn’t even think he liked her all that much. He liked her body and he liked what she could do with it. He liked how powerful he felt when jealous stares of his peers followed him when she was on his arm, and he liked the power he had over her when he was putting her in her place. But her? No, she didn’t think he liked her. She’d asked him once if he would hold her hair back if she was sick. She didn’t know why she asked. The mood had soured immediately and he reminded her the rug was new and if she vomited on it, he’d rub her face in it so she’d know what she’d done.

Just like a puppy.

Rubbing at her cheek gingerly, she stood, palms flat on the marble railing as she overlooked the city. She’d asked to meet his family and he hit her.

She wasn’t his girlfriend, he’d sneered, she was his whore. Up until tonight, she hadn’t known he had a fiancee in London. Up until tonight, she had thought he was a reckless party boy with a bit of a temper.

He’d never called her a whore before. Not just ‘a’ whore, but his whore. He wasn’t name calling; he was stating the facts of their arrangement.

He was passed out in the bedroom now. The sun was flirting with the horizon and Marie looked directly to the street below, lifting one foot onto one of the little bistro chairs set up there. No one would have to see her. Someone would find her, but…there was no one about right now. If she jumped, no one would witness her death. No one would be traumatized. It was the least selfish thing she could do.

With her second leg up on the chair, she brought her knees up onto the stone and took a deep breath. With a sharp inhale, she looked up, taking in the view, pausing for a moment and savoring one last look. The bridges and beyond them, the shadow of the mountains. Was one of those mountains Veld’s mountain? Probably not. They were too close.

Her chin wobbled and she ducked her chin into her chest.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, teetering where she knelt. He would have been disappointed in her. She didn’t imagine he’d look too favorably on rich girl suicide. He hadn’t been impressed with her drug addiction.

He’d held her hair back for her when she vomited. He’d cared for her as she detoxed. He nursed her back to health, a perfect stranger who had barrelled into his peaceful life.

She wobbled a bit at the memory, yelping and throwing herself back, back onto the balcony, back to safety. The chair clanged against the table as she fell and when she realized just what she’d almost done, she choked on her own guilt, sobbing onto the slate beneath her.

By the time the sun rose above the horizon, she was just picking herself up, throat raw and eyes swollen. Her arms and legs shook and she found that she couldn’t look down onto the street without the feeling of falling assaulting her.

As she stepped back into the penthouse, a new sense of clarity overcame her.

She wasn’t stuck. She wasn’t as trapped in this lifestyle as she pretended to be.

After a shower, she cleaned the apartment of all liquid assets she could fit in her purse and, cutting her credit card and fake identification card in half, she tossed them onto the bedside table beside the unconscious leech on society, and left.

She spent the earlier hours of the morning in a cafe, fueling herself and making a list of necessities. She bought a train ticket, and when the shops opened, she bought what she would need. She was on a mission. Whether it was clarity or mania was still yet to be seen and on the train, ‘out of sight, out of mind’, came into play. Her guilt and self loathing began to melt into excitement.

At the train station, a taxi took her to the small mountain village and for a little (lot) more than his fee, continued up the narrow mountain road until it became almost impossible to drive any further. This was fine.

She was sure the taxi driver thought she was insane as she hauled her much heavier duty suitcase, military grade duffle, and all season backpack out from his trunk but returned down the mountain without her after her insistence.

Traveling wasn’t much easier than it had been the first time almost a year ago, but knowing where she was going this time kept her motivated.

Her far more practical footwear helped immensely.

When finally Veld’s cabin came into view, she found muscles and speed she hadn’t previously been able to access, and several yards from the dwelling, abandoned her luggage, hastily throwing the backpack from her back as she sprinted forward, calling out his name.

Would he be happy to see her? God she hoped so. She felt that he might. Her months with him up here in this cabin had felt so real, so genuine.

Her new leather boots thudded up the few steps to the door and she froze before she could even knock, his name dying on her lips.

It was entirely boarded up. The door, the windows. In fact, it was so oddly still, there was no mistaking the lack of life in the tiny house that had held so much of it this past winter.

“…no….” She shook her head, backing away, eyes darting all over, “No!”

With her tiny fists, she pounded on the door, screaming for him. It couldn’t go like this. He couldn’t just be gone. It…it wasn’t fair.

Dropping to the porch, she cried into the wood of the door. She shouldn’t have left. She’d made the wrong choice, continued to make poor choices, and now she was paying the price for it.

If she had just…stayed.

#readmore for days #Rolly Suitcase AU #Return to the Mountain

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raendown · 4 years ago

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A commission from @officerjennie for a friend!

Pairing: TobiramaItachi Word count: 5077 Rated: T+ Summary: Itachi and Tobirama get a cat. They didn't really mean to. They certainly weren't prepared to.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Meow and Furever

They hadn’t actually intended to get a cat. If not for their own collective lack of creativity they would never have even been inside the shop that day. Social niceties dictated they bring some sort of gift to Hashirama’s house-warming party that weekend but neither of them were any good at buying gifts for other people; such was the main reason they had a long standing agreement to the limit of one gift each during the holidays. Without any better ideas they had come to the conclusion that they would instead purchase gifts for Hashirama’s many dogs. That was just the sort of cute gesture he would adore and it came with the added bonus of not disappointing any human recipients.

So off they went to peruse through aisle upon aisle of nonsense toys that made an entire cacophony of noises when squeezed or shaken. It was standing at the end of aisle twenty-seven with a plastic hotdog between his hands that Itachi spotted the beast who would change their lives forever.

“Tobi,” he murmured from one corner of his mouth. When the other did not respond he reached out to nudge lightly with one elbow. Tobirama grunted, looking up from comparing two different squeaky donuts.

“What is it?”

“Look.”

He did. And what he saw was quite possibly the ugliest cat he had ever come across in his entire life. Situated behind glass in a wall of cages designed to attract potential pet parents while also keeping the animals safe, a pair of amber eyes glared back at him in a way that spelled death. Or possibly begged for treats. It was hard to tell under the absolute explosion of ginger fur and the massive jaw.

Almost before Tobirama could process the man had even moved Itachi was across the aisle and all but pressed against the glass barrier, fingers coming up to trace patterns in the air for the angry ball of fluff to follow with its eyes. The store employee standing nearby gave them a side glance that practically smelled like a sales pitch. She watched with dollar signs in her eyes as the giant orange cat stretched out both front legs and yawned, showing off uneven teeth sticking out in all sorts of strange directions, then pattered daintily closer to the glass where it sat and resumed staring at the brave human who dared to approach.

“What on earth happened to its face?” Tobirama wondered out loud. As though it heard him, the cat turned to look at him with both ears swiveled forward as best they could over the crumpled folds of skin. Despite its obvious feline roots one could almost mistake it for a pug with a face that squished.

“Poor genetics,” the nearby employee piped up. “He was born that way. It’s put off quite a number of potential owners.”

“I think he’s beautiful,” Itachi breathed.

When the cat looked back in his direction he cooed and wriggled his fingers enticingly. Tobirama sighed. After several years together he knew his partner very well and he knew the look in those dark, beloved eyes. Come hell or high water they were going to take that animal home. Oh he could put up a fuss and dig in his heels, he could come up with a dozen logical arguments why they shouldn’t or couldn’t, but when Itachi really wanted something he had ways of being quite convincing. All of them were very underhanded. None of them were the sort of thing Tobirama wanted strangers to witness in the middle of a public pet shop.

Still, he had a reputation to maintain. With as stern of an expression as he could muster he simply growled, “No.”

“But look at him!” Itachi whipped about to stare at him with wide eyes.

“I am,” Tobirama said. “He’s as ugly as sin.”

“He’s perfect.”

“The answer is no, Itachi, we are not taking him with us. We don’t have anything for a cat at home. He would destroy the furniture we only just finished paying off!”

Despite knowing this was a battle he would inevitably lose Tobirama folded his arms with every intention of standing his ground.

An hour later they were trooping out the front door of the shop with half a dozen bags of assorted feline paraphernalia and a plastic carrier containing one very smug orange monster. The inside was meant to be lined with blankets for extra comfort but after the third was ruined before it could even make it halfway inside the staff decided that perhaps it was best they keep anything soft far away from those sharp claws until the thing was no longer their problem. Tobirama said a silent goodbye to the sides of his couch even as he watched Itachi settle the carrier across both knees and murmur soothingly through the grated door. Incredibly, he did not get hissed at.

For the entirety of the drive home the two new cat parents discussed their options for names. On the adoption forms Itachi had written down the first thing that came to mind simply for the sake of being able to take him home quicker but that was one thing Tobirama had successfully put his foot down on. He refused to call out ‘Butternut Squash’ whenever he inevitably got angry at the cat for something. They tossed a lot of options back and forth and by the end of the drive it was narrowed down to two different options.

“I would have thought you’d be more excited about ‘Tang’,” Itachi mused. “It’s close enough to the word dang that you could almost feel like you’re swearing.”

“True. Unfortunately it reminds me of that awful drink powder my brothers were all obsessed with when we were young.”

“Ah yes. That would be why I rejected ‘Clifford’. I remember it a little too well from a show my own brother used to enjoy.” He frowned briefly, though it faded when his new monster gave off a sort of rumbling sound that might have been purr or growl, it was impossible to tell.

Pulling in to the driveway, Tobirama gave a sage nod. He’d never liked that show either. “Alright so what are we going for? I’ll leave the final decision up to you; are we calling him Winston or Rohan?”

He didn’t get an answer until after they had fought their way out of the car and in to the home with their many large bags. Itachi set the carrier down on the kitchen floor and then sat beside it to coo through the door soothingly. Whether or not it worked was hard to tell. Before opening the door to let their new family member roam free he paused to crane his neck up with a smile.

“Would you consider another option?” he asked.

“Seriously?” Tobirama lifted one eyebrow. “We just spent half an hour narrowing this down and you want to throw in a new contender?”

“Tesla. We could call him Tesla.”

“...because all that fur makes him look like he’s been in some sort of electrical accident?”

“Precisely.” As if to prove the point he’d already made Itachi squeezed the latch and twisted, swinging the little door open, then beamed with a parental sort of pride as their newest addition came stumping out of its carrier in a gait that reminded Tobirama very uncomfortably of his brother’s best friend.

True to his proposed name, however, the cloud of orange fur surrounding the cat’s massive bulk stood out from his body in raggedy clumps that gave a very good impression of being recently electrocuted. After pausing to rub himself up against Itachi’s knee almost incidentally he took a few cautious steps and lifted his nose to sniff the air. His misshapen little nose wriggled in time with his ears, swiveling front and back while he tried to take in as much information as possible about this new environment. Both humans watched him take a few more steps-

Only to plop his bottom down on the linoleum and declare the whole adventure business to be too much trouble. Instead he stretched out and rolled over to put all four paws in the air.

“I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean,” Tobirama murmured.

“Maybe that he feels safe here already?” Hesitating very briefly, Itachi reached out and dared to run his fingers through the wild hair covering the belly on offer. “Oh. Oh he’s so soft!”

“So clumpy, you mean. I wonder when he last groomed himself.”

His partner gave him a stern look. “Quit insulting him and just tell me whether or not you like the name!”

“Yes, I think Tesla is a good name for him,” Tobirama gave in. It wasn’t a lie, he did think it was a good name and it definitely appealed to his nerdy side, he was just a little too fond of the way Itachi’s nose wrinkled whenever he was exasperated. He was a little too fond of many things about this man.

Tesla himself seemed to approve of the name and he showed this by rolling heavily back on to his feet and strutting away from them both with his tail held high in the air. His short hesitant footsteps were surprisingly delicate for a creature of his size. Just as Tobirama was beginning to think that perhaps adopting him wouldn’t be quite as big of a change to their lives as he had initially suspected Tesla paused to lock his gaze on to the dishes piled up by the sink. With both of their families stopping by for visits over the past week there hadn’t been much free time to wash the dishes just yet so the stacks were getting just a little wobbly. That, of course, is precisely what caught Tesla’s attention.

Before either of them had time to do more than gasp with prophetic despair Tesla crouched down and launched himself upwards straight towards the tallest and most wobbly stack of dishes on the countertop. It was only by the grace of some god or other that all the bowls and cups he smacked in to face first were each made of plastic. A good thing, too, as they all immediately came cascading down towards the floor amid shrieking yowls of surprise. Tesla’s little claws screeched against the kitchen floor as he landed only to shoot out of the room in fright, abandoning his new parents to the task of cleaning up his very first mess.

Tobirama felt he was being incredibly generous by waiting until after they had spent five minutes chasing waywards cups that really wanted to roll their way to freedom before turning to his partner with both eyebrows on the upper limits of his forehead. Unfortunately for the sassy remark he’d been composing in his head, Itachi beat him to the punch.

“He lived his whole life in that shelter,” he reasoned. “A pile of dishes is probably something he’s never seen before; he couldn’t have known that would happen!”

“Don’t think logic will save him from my wrath every time,” Tobirama muttered.

Gathering up as much dignity as he could, he set all his gathered dishes down and swept out of the room. Now would have been a perfect time to actually wash the dirty cutlery and so on but he was much more concerned with what else their fluffy new resident could have gotten in to. Five minutes was a long time for a cat to be loose in an unfamiliar environment. All it took was a couple of visits to any of his brothers’ homes to know that pets were their own class of natural disaster.

As it turned out, his instincts were correct. Barely two steps past the kitchen Tobirama broke out in to a run as a terrible ripping sound reached his ears. When he skidded in to the living room it was to find Tesla halfway up their living room curtains, although by the look of the long rips he’d probably made it quite a bit higher before the polyester gave up its structural integrity. Granted, those curtains were ugly as ugly as he was and only remained in the window because they’d been a gift from Itachi’s younger brother at some point, but that didn’t make the prospect of replacing them any more pleasant.

“I should leave you there,” Tobirama snapped. Tesla wriggled until he could tilt his head for a very cute and innocent meow.

“What happ- oh! He’s stuck! Can you hold the curtains still so I can get him down?” Itachi inched around their cluttered living room to reach the window where he began stroking down the cat’s back, hoping to sooth him.

Tesla honestly didn’t look like he needed much soothing. He purred to have such gentle affection, a sound that could be compared to a dying lawn mower, and continued to hang in place as though such had been his intentions all along. It took the two humans working together several minutes to detangle all four sets of claws so they could set the cat back on the ground, whereupon he immediately leapt on to the couch and began kneading the blanket Mito had crocheted for Itachi as a birthday present several years back.

“You’re not going to stop him?” Tobirama asked incredulously. “He’s going to pull out all the threads and leave holes!”

“It’s crochet, it’s already full of holes. No one will notice.”

“Mito will notice.”

Like he’d been struck with lightning Itachi launched in to action, crawling over furniture to reach for Tesla and very gently encourage him to leave the blanket alone. Evidently having his activities interrupted was grounds for declaring war in cat language. The moment his claws were once again detached Tesla hissed wetly at them both and took off down the hall to disappear in to yet another new room. Both men hurried after him.

One cat, Tobirama thought to himself as they came to a skidding halt outside the bathroom. It was only one bloody cat. If he didn’t already know the exact devastated expression his partner would give him for doing so he would give up now and toss the bloody animal outside in to the garden. Gently, of course, because he was actually pretty fond of cats himself. But he was also fond of maintaining an orderly home life and while the cat he’d taken care of growing up had been docile, almost demure, it hadn’t exactly taken him a lot of time to realize this one would not behave the same. They may have chosen his name for the way his fur stuck out at odd angles but it was becoming very clear that Tesla had lightning in his veins as well. Tobirama could already predict many nights being awoken by an attack of ‘the zoomies’ as his brother called it.

“Ah! Tesla! Don’t eat that please!” Itachi hurried forward to rescue the bowl of sweets he kept on his side of the bed for the rare occasion he got a craving. “I don’t think those are good for you.” Tesla meowed curiously and made a valiant effort to follow the bowl, determined to continue inspecting the contents.

“Just let him sniff it and maybe he’ll leave it alone once he knows what it is,” Tobirama suggested.

“But what if he tries to eat one?”

With a sigh Tobirama looked down at the cat stretched up on his hind legs and shook his head. “Then I suggest putting it inside your nightstand for now. Come on, you, let's show you where your litter box and food are. Maybe that will calm you down.”

Tesla gave a very loud protest when he was picked up without further warning. As good as he’d been in the carrier, he didn’t seem to appreciate being swung freely through the air. Unfortunately Tobirama didn’t trust him to keep his claws to himself just yet and so he opted for holding the beast out in front of him like a stinky sack of potatoes rather than cuddling him up close as he would with any other cat. Considering the size of him it was no surprise that Tobirama’s arms began to feel the strain long before he finally made his way in to the laundry room where they planned to set up the litter, figuring this was the best place for any possible stinkiness.

Only after he had arrived and found himself in the middle of the room did he remember that they hadn’t actually had time to set anything up just yet.

“How much do you love me?” he asked in a flat voice. From behind he heard Itachi cough in a poor attempt at covering up a bit of laughter.

“Enough to lock you in here with him while I go get everything ready.”

Tobirama sighed despondently. It was probably for the best. Leaving Tesla in here alone would probably result in some kind of disaster. Reluctantly and with much pouting, he agreed, watching the door close them in like a prisoner might watch the door to his jail cell slam shut. When they were alone he set Tesla on top of the washing machine and wrinkled his nose in irritation when the cat immediately began pawing at a stack of clean laundry. He supposed he should say goodbye now to the idea of ever being cat hair free again. Not even a lint roller was going to save him from this explosion of puff.

By some merciful twist of fate it only took Itachi a few minutes to set up the food and water dishes in their kitchen and fill the litter box, something he did right outside the door. The sound of him pouring litter just a plank of wood away drove Tesla absolutely mad and set him to scratching at the door until finally Itachi opened it.

“Clearly he’s already decided which of us to attach himself to.”

“Well can you blame him?” Itachi carefully set the box down and buried his fingers in orange fur. “From the sounds of it I was the first person to ever give him a chance. Just look at this face, who could ever help loving a face like this?”

If not for the fact that he was overly aware he was making the exact same expression as the cat, Tobirama would have had some very different answers to that question. Instead he only darkened his scowl and turned away. Stupid animal. As soon as his partner spotted the thing he’d known they would end up taking it home but it was only now hitting him just how sleepless, fur-covered, and lonely his future was looking. The shame was probably the worst part. He was jealous of a cat. A cat. Well, more of an orange monster that was clearly plotting to steal all of Itachi’s time and affection away from him.

Doing his best to consciously smooth his face in to something more neutral and unrelated to cat based jealousy, Tobirama cleared his throat. “Shouldn’t we be showing him his litter box so he knows where it is? That’s supposed to be important.”

“Oh, right, yeah.”

“So maybe you should put him down, then?”

“But listen to him purring…” Itachi gave him a tiny smile that blossomed in to a full grin when he laid his head down against Tesla’s side to listen to his monstrous purrs from up close.

With a huff Tobirama nudged the litter box. “Just put him in it.”

It was already happening. The stupid beast was already stealing Itachi’s best smiles, the really soft ones normally reserved just for him when the two of them were all alone. And he was already feeling stupid for letting it get to him. Tobirama wondered if it would be a little too childish to bury the stupid thing in litter while it was still clean just to have what petty revenge he could; it wasn’t as though Tesla would really understand, after all. Stealing Itachi away wasn’t exactly premeditated.

Nor was it real, the man was still right there and he would no doubt still have a part of his large heart reserved for the one who shared his bed, it was just that Tobirama was already fairly sure their bed had just gained another occupant.

“Come on little one, like this!” Itachi used the litter scoop to dig through it like he was teaching a child something new.

“I think he knows how to bury his own shit,” Tobirama grumbled. “The store said he was box trained.”

“What if this isn’t the brand they used? Change can be confusing for anyone.”

“Oh for- I’m going to make dinner.”

So he did. Tobirama ignored the bemused questions that followed him out in to the hall, calling back over his shoulder that keeping up with Tesla’s explorations was Itachi’s responsibility for now as he himself stomped off to the kitchen while trying not to be obvious about said stomping.

Irritated as he was, he chose not to make anything too complicated for dinner, not wanting to let his distraction affect how well he cared for his beloved partner. He definitely had an advantage in this arena. Tesla was great and all but his paws probably weren’t all that useful in the kitchen - not to mention he would coat anything he touched in long ginger fur. Not very tasty for humans.

Eventually as he went about his business the familiar motions of chopping and stirring and fiddling with their faulty stove dials helped center him, calming the silly emotions he hadn’t been able to help. There was something about the simple domesticity of housework that never failed to bring him back in to himself. Probably because housework didn’t require much of his brainpower and so allowed him plenty of time to work through his thoughts without any expectations or outside pressures. Tobirama opened the dishwasher to pull out his favorite set of miso bowls and admitted silently to himself that he might have overreacted to getting a cat. Sure he usually loved cats and yes he had very much enjoyed having one as a child but he and Itachi had lived alone together for close to a decade at this point, their home had become a place where he knew that the rest of the world could fade away and he could envelope himself in nothing but the quiet man who stole his heart from the very first date. It was a little embarrassing to realize that he’d grown so attached to that concept that even as simple of an addition as a pet could make him feel threatened. Itachi would love him no less. Pay him no less attention. Really there was nothing to worry about.

Almost as though he could sense that a bit of mental peace had been reached, Itachi came wandering in to the room just as Tobirama was pulling down some glasses. He insisted on setting the table, for which Tobirama was grateful, and in only a couple of minutes they were both seated together devouring a simple yet delicious meal. The kitchen was Tobirama’s domain and his talents in that area only grew with each year. On the other hand Itachi hadn’t learned to cook until he was nearly thirty and his talents mostly included bowling water.

When Tesla came wandering in to the room with a plaintive yowl Tobirama found it in himself not to glare at the sight of his partner leaping up immediately to guide him towards the cat dish. He supposed the animal deserved to have dinner as well and they might as well eat at the same time. A small fragment of his mental peace was shattered when Tesla began to eat, however, and he realized the stupid thing snarfed down its food with a litany of disgusting sounds almost like he were gargling it. Just because he accepted that the beast would be living here didn’t mean he had to like the thing.

“Thank you for agreeing to let him come home with us,” Itachi said as he slid back in to his chair. Tobirama grunted. “I can’t imagine how it must have felt to stay in that place for so long with only a tiny cage to live in and never have anyone love him.”

Rather than answer all Tobirama could do was grunt again and stir his miso aimlessly while trying not to feel guilty for fantasizing earlier about tossing the thing out.

Dinner was quick, the clean up after even quicker, and even though it was probably a bad idea Tobirama decided that the rest of the evening would be his own, determined to ignore any shenanigans their new addition might get up to. Several people had told him over the years that he was too uptight. He would show them. Of course he knew how to relax, how to let the small things go. How much damage could one animal do in the short span of a single evening?

After the past couple of hours he already knew the answer to that question; he chose to ignore it.

Never having been a large fan of most popular TV shows, he spent the rest of his evening curled up in one corner of their large couch trying not to leap up and investigate every crash or yowl or quiet scolding word. Listening to his partner follow the cat around while Tesla continued learning this new environment did make him feel slightly guilty. Not guilty enough to actually go help though, not when getting the damn thing had been all Itachi’s idea. Sometimes he could be a nice guy but he certainly wasn’t that nice. Instead he combated his helpful urges by sinking farther and farther in to the cushions with every loud noise until he was all but buried between them and tried his best not to imagine what chaos was being made of his neat and orderly home. Whatever got misplaced he was sure Itachi would at least try to clean it up.

By the time his phone went off to tell him he should probably go to bed - a daily alarm he’d been using since college when his study habits grew wildly unhealthy - his efforts to relax hadn’t been nearly as successful as he would have liked but he wasn’t feeling quite so twisted up in knots as he had been before dinner. Tobirama called a few vague words down the hall to let his partner know he was tucking in for the night, pleased to hear Itachi call back that he would follow in a few minutes. A man of his word, he was in the bedroom getting changed when Tobirama came back out of the bathroom, teeth freshly brushed and flossed.

Since Itachi always took so much longer to perform his nightly ablutions Tobirama had plenty of time to slip under the covers and squirm about to find a comfortable position. He didn’t often move around much in his sleep but the older he got the more prone he was to aching limbs if he didn’t fall asleep in just the right position. Just as Itachi came out and crossed the room to turn out the light Tobirama at last found the perfect spot, spread out on his side just close enough to the center of the bed that when the other man crawled under the sheets he was able to fit himself right in to the cradle of Tobirama’s hips. As much as he liked to pretend that cuddling was something he only did for his partner’s benefit, it did help him sleep most days. Tobirama was grateful that slumber was such a private activity. There was no need for anyone else to know that under his gruff exterior he was nearly as sappy as his older brother.

Like he often did, Tobirama had trouble falling asleep. Listening to the sound of Itachi’s breathing evening out relaxed him, of course, but he still found himself distressingly awake to hear the sound of their bedroom door creaking open ever so slightly. A scowl touched his face when he felt the end of the mattress dip under a tiny weight.

“Do you really have to?” he grumbled under his breath.

As though in answer Tesla gave a low meow and trotted a full circle around the lump their bodies made together under the covers, looking for the perfect spot to lie down. No choice could have been more surprising than the one he went for. Tobirama was left blinking rapidly at the back of Itachi’s head when he felt soft fur press up against his neck; almost immediately his entire frame was practically shaken with the force of Tesla’s raucous purring. He didn’t even like the stupid thing but of course he was the one it wanted to cuddle with as they all slept through their first night together.

That, of course, was when it hit him. He understood at last why his partner had fallen so deeply in love with this creature and why it had been so important that they take him home. If ever there had existed a cat form of Tobirama himself it would be Tesla. Coarse and unrefined, prone to explorations and a curiosity that was never quite sated, he himself was exactly the sort of person many others would pass up without a second thought. He was grumpy, he was cantankerous, and he wasn't much to look at. But at the end of the day when it was only him and the ones he loved Tobirama was as soft as melted butter. If he could purr then he certainly would have every time he fitted himself around Itachi’s warm and welcoming form.

“Alright, fine,” he murmured, shifting so Tesla could curl around his head a little more comfortably. “You can stay. Just to be clear, though, I was still here first. And don’t you forget that.”

He didn’t get much of a reply but he wasn’t really expecting one. Tesla merely continued to purr, Itachi continued to dream, and Tobirama decided that he didn’t mind expanding his family just a little bit. Of all the possible choices for a pet it did warm him inside to know that, in a way, his partner had chosen to fall in love with him all over again.

#rae writes #commission #tobiita #tobirama #itachi #fanfiction

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doomfisthero · 4 years ago

Text

Magnum Residue

It's taken me a long while to post this, primarily because I wanted to make sure it was necessary. A while back, I saw the music video for "Magnum Bullets" and was so inspired that I had to create my own follow-up to the story. I sent it off to NSP in hopes that they might be interested in a follow-up themselves, but only heard back fairly recently that they couldn't accept unsolicited submissions.

In response, I asked them if there was any way that I could work on the project for them formally, and have yet to receive a reply. While I'm still holding out some measure of hope, I figure it couldn't hurt to share my work informally, at least until something comes of it. I do hope you all enjoy my work - I'm honestly incredibly proud of what I've created here.

I’ve also cross-posted this on AO3 here.

Time: Immediately after the assassination of Hanley Moors; Location: City of Neoxsoma, outside the Manse

Trine weaved through the shadowed alleyways, getting further away from the Manse. The narrow crevices of Neoxsoma were a prison to all but the most familiar with them, but Trine had run through those cracks for years. Slowly, the alarms of NX Security swarming the blood-stained tower faded away into the starless night.

There was a flash of regret as the triangle-crested wolf recalled leaving behind their companions. They'd felt such an urge to leave, to be anywhere else, that Stelle and Cube didn't even register to them. But those two would never let themselves be captured anyway; Stelle would tear barehanded through anyone in her way, and Cube would make sure to stay three steps ahead no matter how many arms he still had.

No, when the police made their way to the penthouse, and passed through the grand doors, they'd find only the fruits of a well-deserved vengeance. The corpses of Moors' guards and hired guns, lifeless amalgams of fur, flesh, feather, and ferrous streaming dried blood onto the spotless floors. And at their head, a lifeless torso with a hole through its chest, the miserable bastard responsible for everything. The one with the bloodiest hands of all.

Hanley Moors had been a symbol of power and opulence in Neoxsoma since long before Trine and Cube made their way to the city together. In a society where animated metal and mingled flesh was a status symbol, Moors created a new echelon of prestige, forsaking flesh entirely for a powerful, perfect new body and a face of constructed light hovering above. As if to look down upon his acquaintances and remind them with every glance that his power alone was enough to transcend the physical entirely.

Not that it had mattered. For such a grand display, to perish by an old and ordinary revolver; an undignified death, exposing the hollowness that he'd hidden all along.

Still, Trine wished that they hadn't dropped Gamble's gun when they'd left. They felt barren without it, even if they could only tuck it into their pocket. The weight in their hand, the solidity of the cool metal against their palm, would have been a welcome feeling right about now.

But anything would, really.

After what felt like a night's worth of running between buildings, Trine slowed as the narrow gap emptied out into the street. The mustiness of the alleyways cut out as the brilliant neon streetlights made Trine flinch.

The buildings lining the street were dark, save for the stray light shining out from a window. It was a waste of neon to provide the back roads with the same extravagance as the city’s major veins. For now, however, the lack of light and life made an ideal escape route.

Trine forced themself to slow down now that they were out in the open. They slid their hands casually into their pockets and strode down the sidewalk in long steps, moving in the direction of...

The hideout. Trine stopped and grit their teeth as the image flooded back in. Blood and agony, tangible smells on the air. Cube – dear little brother – bleeding and torn on the floor. Beloved friends strewn lifeless across the room.

And Gamble...

Gamble...

Trine sank to the ground, their whole body curling painfully inward. Their claws curled around thick handfuls of their jacket. They should have been there, with everyone else. Laying down their life to protect their own would have been so simple.

But they'd been gone – too busy perusing the back alleys for people seeking Gamble's newfound arson bounty. They'd been the mouth and ears, and Stelle the sword carving a message into any would-be hunters.

It hadn't done a flicker of good. Not when Moors and his militia stormed into their den and slaughtered everyone where they sat. Even with the prize of Moors' gold back in their hands, there was too much that they could never take back.

Even with Moors' cold, metallic heart snuffed out, everyone and everything that Trine, Stelle, and Cube had loved died with it. Stelle's family would never accept their daughter back knowing the truth of her gang activities. Cube's missing arm and eye would make his mechanic’s training so much harder, if he wasn't outright dismissed for it.

And Trine...Trine felt nothing. Nothing but nothing where their heart and friends and family and hopes for the future once rested. It had all been blown away.

It was a long time before Trine could rise back to their feet and continue onward into the black night.

Time: Two months after the assassination of Hanley Moors; Location: City of Neoxsoma, Residential Structure Vega

Stelle adjusted her scarf and the wide brim of her hat as she descended yet another flight of stairs. There were even fewer residents in this part of the structure than the preceding ones, but it would only take one intruder to throw herself and Cube back into the sights of a firing squad. She continued along the cramped gray hallways through the middle of the structure, curving through intersections at a seeming whim.

The part of Stelle's mind that once accused her of paranoia no longer made such claims. Moors' blood hadn't even dried before every screen in the city lit up with news of that night’s gold-fueled vendetta. Stelle, Cube, and Trine alike had all been thrown up into the neon along with their lost friend Gamble.

(She'd only been an arsonist and a thief, but Stelle and the others were terrorists and murderers atop that.)

Trine had left on their own after firing the bullet that robbed Moors of his life and his gold, leaving the spoils to Stelle and Cube. Once it had become evident in the next few days that seeking them out wasn't an option – not with security and every hunter in city limits after their newfound bounty – the two remaining wolves chose to lie low for a while. Renting a half-decent apartment from one of the mass-produced structures in the residential district had cost mere shavings of a gold bar, once they'd run that money through the proper channels with what influence Stelle still carried.

As Stelle moved outward toward the structure's shell, she finally stopped in front of one thin, metal door. Once she knew that the hallway was empty, she quietly unlocked the door and slipped inside.

The lights in the single-room apartment were already on, and its other tenant turned his head as Stelle entered.

“Hey,” said Cube – so named for the glowing green square on his forehead. He sat on his mattress with his back against the wall, his long legs stretching out onto the coarse beige carpet. “I thought you'd be home later. Is everything okay?”

Only once Stelle had shut the door and sunken onto her own mattress opposite Cube's did she remove her hat and scarf and allow her fur to breathe. “One of my deliveries was canceled. He said he'd been replaced at the algae refinery and couldn't afford a gift for his partner anymore.” She sighed, sliding her delivery tote off her back. “Pity, I would have earned a bonus for keeping that necklace safe.”

She dropped a bag from the local deli onto her mattress – dinner for the two of them tonight.

Cube's prosthetic whirred as the four fingers spun slowly around his rounded 'palm'. “Sounds like we both had a rough day,” he said wearily. “I got stiffed on a repair job for one of the bars downtown. They said the jukebox was too jerky when it switched songs.” He picked at the half-assembled cassette player on his lap. “I spent two hours on it, too.”

That was the sad reality of holding a job in Neoxsoma; if the person paying you was getting screwed over too, then you could call yourself lucky, because at least you weren't alone. But mostly you got pushed down and left behind. It was rough for anyone, but a freelancer like Cube only had his reputation, and reputations were so much easier to break than to keep standing.

Suddenly, Cube looked up from his lap. “Hey, Stelle?” He started slowly, rubbing the claws on his right hand together as he thought. “We're not, uh, using the money we took from Moors for anything right now, right? If we're running a little low on cash—”

“Cube, no,” Stelle cut him off firmly. “We can't raise any suspicions by spending money we shouldn't have. We'll find another way to get by this week.”

“Who's even gonna know?” Cube shot back. “Nobody dangerous pays attention to anyone from here. We're just vermin in their gutters.”

He waved his hands at the dull metal walls of their apartment. “And can you blame them, if everyone here lives like this? It's nothing – and we can still barely afford it! They're not going to notice if we spend a little more than usual!”

Stelle stared him down. She had wondered about this, whether their current situation was tenable. Cube wasn't a fool; even without the exact numbers, he had to know that their shared income was barely keeping up with the costs. A couple weeks of low pay could easily do them in at this rate, and Moors had given them at least several million dollars in gold even with all of the fees paid under the table. They could afford their apartment for well past a lifetime, or a much better, safer home with plenty to spare.

But Stelle had borne witness to the allure of riches for her entire life, and what it could drive decent people to. She'd left that behind, left them behind. She didn't think she could do it again.

“We can't risk it. Not until we're certain that everyone has stopped searching for us,” she said, firmly keeping her eyes on Cube. “I'll take on more deliveries if we need them, and you can keep doing your repair jobs.”

There was a tense moment of silence, and then Cube slapped his mattress and shot to his feet, sending the cassette player clattering to the floor.

“For what? To stay cooped up in this goddamn metal box?!” Cube shouted, pulling his lips back to reveal his fangs. “I hate it here, Stelle! I want out! I'm sick of acting like we're doing something when we're just hiding! We need to find Tr—”

“Trine wouldn't want you getting killed looking for them, Cube,” Stelle cut him off. “They would want us to be safe first. They can take care of themselves just fine until then.”

She hoped.

“Are you listening to yourself?” Cube growled. “They just left us – they didn't even say goodbye! Does that sound just fine to you? We need to find them!”

“Not yet, Cube.”

“Then when?!”

“When you can go outside without feeling once like anyone could be watching you,” Stelle finally snapped back, glaring up at Cube with the most forceful look she could manage.

It must have been impressive, as Cube flinched back, mouth open but no sound leaving it. Eventually, he gave up and sank back onto his mattress, furiously returning to tampering.

Stelle welcomed the feeling of regret that replaced her obstinate anger. It wasn't fair to knock Cube down when he'd already been through so much, when his older sibling was still gone without a single sign of life. He was still far too young to have deserved any of it. At least Stelle could have pointed to her high-class parentage and called it an exercise in humility.

Things had been very different just a few months ago. The kid had been working through his apprenticeship with a local mechanic, and he'd been doing good work. Most days he came back to the den with a tired smile and stories about all the people he'd met and fixed things for that day, surrounded by friends and with Trine the proud big sibling holding him to their side.

Cube lived off of spreading that joy more than any money he could have brought in. He made what could have been a difficult life so much better.

Then Moors ripped his eye and his arm from him, and no prosthetics could make up for how far Cube had been set back. Stelle felt bad most days for the lackluster robot arms she'd been able to obtain for him; the first one had been a hefty crab claw, good for throwing thugs around but not so much for refined work, while his current one was a slender but sturdy limb leading to a rounded end with four jointed fingers extending from the ‘wrist’.

It was certainly more dexterous, especially as Cube mastered moving his fingers along the circumference of his new hand, but even the most lifelike robotic limbs required time to figure out. Coupled with the wolf's ruined left eye – which he'd furiously refused to replace with another prosthetic – it was clear even before Cube went on the run that his education had met a cruel end.

The rest of the evening passed quietly. The two of them sat on the floor together and ate dinner, and then Cube tucked all of his tools away and crawled onto his mattress with a quiet “good night”. Stelle watched him until she was certain that he'd drifted off, and then she laid down upon her own bedding.

Her body sank into the mattress, just barely kept off the hard floor underneath, and Stelle turned to face the wall away from Cube – and away from the window that was still pouring the beginnings of twilight into their apartment. Most rooms in this structure didn't have windows at all, and Cube had begged to live somewhere with natural lighting. It had been one of Stelle's few concessions.

Stelle closed her eyes and let out a quiet sigh. She had been too hard on him, she could accept that now. The past two months had been so very hard for both of them, but at least Stelle had no family to miss, and no need to beg anyone for a little bit of sunlight.

Tomorrow, they could start looking for someplace else to live. They would still need to be smart about it, but there had to be somewhere in this city that let them hide with a little more comfort.

And Trine...Stelle still didn't know what they would do about Trine. She could only hope that they'd found sanctuary, if not for herself than certainly for the little brother that they'd left behind.

Amidst all of the plans, thoughts of comfort, and worries for tomorrow, somehow Stelle found the strength to let go and fall into slumber.

As the sun slid below the horizon and the night marched into the quiet hours of morning, neither wolf was awake to see a dark shape hanging from the building outside of their window, and neither of them heard the rectangle of glass being slowly, quietly cut open.

By the time the cool air from outside flowed into the room and shocked the two awake, the figure would be gone, leaving only a package of their own in their place and a brief message scrawled in red ink on a piece of paper.

Won't you help us break this wretched city?

P.S. Security is on their way, you'll want to hurry out of there.

Time: Meanwhile; Location: City of Neoxsoma, outside Tsunokeji Tower

Wherever the privileged went, they had both the blessing and the curse to cast shadows. It wasn't possible to hold so much light in their hands without a looming darkness stretching back behind them. And there was always going to be somebody, even one person, who would be lost in that darkness, unseen and uncared for.

Nowhere did that ring true more than a city like Neoxsoma. In daytime, the buildings were tall enough to cast their own shadows, drowning everyone below in a shaded sea. In nighttime, their penthouse lights cast synthetic auroras over the skyline, too high to ever be reached; everyone below could only make do with the flickering neon and harsh digital screens supplied as placation.

Of course, people spoke of climbing up toward the lights at the peaks of metal, glass, and stone, and making a home among them. Many watched the skyline with spiteful eyes, dreaming of the day that somebody would be cast down from on high and perish upon the pavement. But most didn't dare dream, only averting their eyes from the lights and seeking contentment in the shadows far below.

None of them had any idea of how simple climbing a mountain could really be.

Trine slid their keycard from their pocket and waved it in front of the card reader. The reader beeped and flashed green, and Trine pushed through the door into the lobby of Tsunokeji Tower. In the dead of night, the high rise was silent and empty, lit only by the soft glow of the light fixtures on the walls – a glow seemingly absorbed by the deep chestnut-stained walls and dark red carpeting.

On the opposite wall from the residential elevators was the penthouse elevator – no different from the others save for the swirling golden trim – and Trine slid their key into the reader and entered the elevator code. The doors swung open almost immediately, as though the elevator had been waiting for them.

They stepped inside and pressed the up button, adjusting their hoodie as the elevator closed. Trine was pretty sure the Horans had installed cameras in the elevator, and they needed to keep the glowing purple triangle on their forehead away from electronic eyes.

Trine fixed their grip on the grocery bags in their hand as the elevator finally slowed down and stopped. The doors opened obediently into the penthouse living room, a vast area with walls painted soft white, and an enormous glass wall on the opposite side that opened into a large personal courtyard. The couches and chairs were decadent, each one a piece of heaven worth thousands.

The Horans were new money, having risen to wealth through an urban development empire that had built the last few decades of this city. They'd wasted no time snapping up part of the skyline for themselves, so much wasted space that they were far too busy to ever use.

The thought made Trine's hackles raise and lips curl in disgust.

They carried their bags into the kitchen area nearby (near spotless from disuse and cleaning) and quietly flipped on the light switch before setting the bags onto the counter – gently, to avoid jostling the fifty-cent pistol buried underneath everything that Trine had picked up from the market. There was also a change of clothes tucked in there, but that wasn't as much of a hazard.

“What were you doing?”

Trine stiffened and turned all the way around. A small, skinny oryx stood in the space between the kitchen and the living room, dressed in pajamas made of the softest, likely most expensive silk that one could find in this city. He rubbed his tired eyes, regulated breaths audible in the silence.

Trine's initial shock faded into a warm and gentle smile. “Hey, Luka. Did I scare you?” They asked softly, kneeling down to meet the young boy at eye level. “Sorry about that. We haven't picked up groceries in so long that I thought I'd run out and get something.”

“But it's two in the morning,” the oryx whined, stifling a yawn. He winced as his artificial lungs pumped in another breath, cutting it off with a choking sound from his throat. Trine reached out to him, but Luka held out his hands to stop them. “I was waiting for you. I thought you left me...” He said, curling into himself.

Trine exhaled and reached out again, this time to wrap their arms around their charge and hold them close. “I'm so sorry, little guy. I was just swinging by the store real quick. I thought we could have something special for breakfast tomorrow.” They rested their cheek against the side of Luka's head, and held the child's head and back in one hand each, careful to avoid his straight, pointed horns.

Luka moaned quietly in Trine's grasp but didn't pull away. “Everyone leaves eventually, you know. I figured you'd gotten tired of me too,” he said, burying his face into the crook of Trine's neck.

“Hey, that's not true,” Trine murmured. They stroked Luka's back with their fingertips, just the way he liked it. “I'm not going anywhere, I swear. If you hadn't hired me, I'd be homeless right now, you know? You saved me, Luka. So I'm gonna stay right here and look out for you, like I promised. However long you need me.”

The penthouse was silent, save for the sound of Luka's artificial lungs rising and falling in his chest. Evidently he'd been born with a respiratory defect, and at some point his parents decided it would be simpler to just tear his lungs out and replace them – and everything else below his larynx. Trine couldn't begin to explain how everything connected inside his chest, but it kept him alive.

It didn't keep the boy's parents around, however. They'd enrolled him in online education, bought him everything he needed to succeed, and then left him behind like a pet. Their only remaining consolation was hiring a caretaker, and they still left most of it to Luka himself.

The young boy pushed his face into the crook of Trine's neck. “I could need you for a long time, Trine,” he whispered. Such sorrow in his voice, but he never shed a tear. Maybe he never found a point. He gripped the front of Trine's shirt in two small bundles of cloth.

“Then I'll stay for a long time,” Trine whispered back. Until they found Cube and Stelle and figured out what to do next. Until Luka's wretched excuses for parents returned home, and...

They smothered the burning feeling that oozed into their chest. Tonight had gone on long enough.

Finally, Trine pulled away and put a smile on their face for Luka. “Now let's get you back to bed. You’ll have to be up early for your online class.”

Luka's lips pursed, like there was something he wanted to say. Trine waited patiently until the oryx spoke. “Will you sit with me until I fall asleep?”

Trine brushed the top of Luka's head with a feather's touch. “Of course, little buddy. Always,” they said, taking his hand as they rose back up. Once Luka fell asleep – however long that took – they still had to put away all of their groceries.

By morning, the story would likely be everywhere, how real estate tycoon and esteemed philanthropist Ingrid Meir had been shot dead in her apartment following a bomb scare and evacuation, killed with a pistol so scratched up inside that any markings on the bullet would be useless. Her fellow point-one-percenters would trade sorrowful stories of her fierce, generous spirit, of the woman who had given so much to help the downtrodden of the city.

Trine would know better. And although the void in their chest wouldn't be filled by the death of a single socialite, they would remember that Neoxsoma ran deep with rot. And there was always another infestation to cleanse.

And one day, Trine didn't know when, the void left behind by Gamble and the rest of their family would be full again. It would be.

So few people understood how simple climbing a mountain truly was. Once you dedicated your entire being to a purpose, once you forsook the notion that there were actions you couldn't take in that pursuit, it left so very little that you couldn't do.

#magnum bullets #post canon #tri #star #square #my wriitng #long post #story #ninja sex party #night runner

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dingoat · 5 years ago

Note

Oh man, bold life choices it is. 😂 Ok, I offer the following kiss options: 11, 19, 30, or 70. Something something pack bonding, right?? 8)

[Okay prepare yourself for 1.6k words of incredibly werewolf-indulgent au that loosely covers three of the four above prompts. I’ve fallen in deep, don’t say you weren’t warned!!]

———————————————————-

Her perspective shifted with her body; she knew this, and most of the time, when she wore the shape of a Bothan, she would dwell on this. She would try to work out what it meant, whether she was living two or three different lives, if she was two or three different beings somehow crammed together, if ever the parts would reconcile with one another, if ever her mind as a wolf would be entirely the same as when she was Bothan, or this new shape that she was still getting to know, half and half.

The wolf didn’t really think much at all; when she ran under the song of the moon, all that mattered was the immediate. So long as she planned appropriately before the change, took care to avoid the triggers of her bloodlust, those nights were exhilarating and liberating, free of the uncertainties of her condition that plagued her otherwise. The details of those nights were still often lost to her, but the sense of release, of satisfaction, the contented exhaustion of a night spent reveling in her fleet footed strength, would linger long.

It was as a wolf that she waited, trembling with anticipation, her thoughts just lucid enough to hold her in the agreed location. Dancing from paw to paw, she scanned the ice field, her sharp, blue-eyed gaze staring across the snowdrifts that sparkled in the moonlight. Her tracks already wove several circles through the snow, and she trotted another restless lap, barely restraining the energy that surged inside her.

Where was he?

Throwing back her head, Ahuska lifted her voice in a song to the moons, a song to the night, a song for the beauty of the world around her and a love of the moment. Long she let the notes ring out, and her howl echoed across the landscape some time after she was done, lasting longer even than the frosty cloud of her breath that hung in the frigid air.

Distantly, a shrill bark sang out in response, and her heart leapt.

She wasn’t going to wait any more.

Kicking off with a great spray of snow, Ahuska ploughed forward, purposefully bounding through the softer snow banks to better work her muscles. She ran with great soaring leaps, a huge white shape against the silvery blue landscape, her fur lit bright under the full moons. Oh, how she loved to run! More dexterous than regular paws, but not quite proper hands either, the digits of her front feet curled and dug into the snow, relishing the feel of it, the crunch and the crisp bite of cold, her claws raking through the earth on the occasions where the snow was shallow enough that she hit it.

And then she saw him, the little black shadow streaking across the snowfield toward her.

Her tail began to swing, and a joyous bark erupted from her muzzle as her movements became exaggerated and playful, each bound punctuated with a stamp of her forelegs in the snow. And as he finally came up to meet her, she let herself collapse, toppling sideways into a skid that had her roll onto her back, paws in the air. Moons and the stars framed his sharp little face as he darted over and stared down at her, eyes bright and flecked with gold. Where she panted heartily with her recent exertion, he remained poised and alert, having conserved his energy and kept easily within his limits.

She barked again, and his dainty muzzle parted in a foxy grin, and she craned her head up to welcome him with a lick before flopping onto her side.

The fox blinked, then bounded forward on delicate paws, returning the affection with a little trill of pleasure, his brush sweeping back and forth in delight. The wolf shut her eyes, breathing a contented sigh through her nose, then mouthed across the fox’s muzzle playfully before butting her whole head against him to bowl him over. Once down, she nosed investigatively about his chest and shoulder and foreleg, seeking any glimmer of the damage she knew it had sustained previously.

The fox huffed with indignance, trying to pull his paw away, but she insisted, fussing and grooming over the area until he relented and held still. See? All fine. No wound, his pointed gaze seemed to insist, but she would not be satisfied until the area had been thoroughly inspected, engaging in a ritual that may well last for years. And he was determined not to overtly display just exactly how the attention made him truly feel, only the faint quivering of his body betraying the giddy warmth inside him.

Come! She announced with a sudden bark and upward bound of her body, leaping three paces through the snow then returning, dropping her forequarters in a blatant invitation to play. An invitation to drop his guard and simply enjoy his wild body the way she did hers.

The fox sprang to his feet, then stood, tense and quivering, ears twitching, before streaking forward like ashen lightning to nip at her ankle.

What followed was pure joy, as the wolf and the fox leapt and chased and tumbled through the snow, thinking only of the moment, living for nothing but the immediate pleasure of one another’s company.

It was good to be together again.

Only the moons bore witness to their revelry, and the slow passage of the planet’s primary moon across the shimmering night sky followed them across snow and ice, into a frosted meadow where their bounding, rolling bodies broke dark trails through the ice crusted foliage. As they danced across the ground, colours danced across the sky, and as the lights twisted and changed their shape above them, so too did their shapes change, as they started to approach the other side of dawn.

She’d been practicing, her awareness and control of her physicality well heightened after their time on Nar Kaaga.

That time had also abolished all self-consciousness about her body in his company; she found herself completely comfortable in her own skin, no matter which shape, or what in-between phase, she wore. And so as the primary moon lowered, its song coming into a new harmony with the smaller moon that already hugged the horizon, Ahsuka let her body flow and twist and smooth out, barely breaking pace as she watched the fox likewise shift.

And then they were tumbling anew; this time with bodies more equally matched, with hands to grasp and wrestle. She was still a little larger, stronger, and he was more lithe and quick, but they contended well against one another. She let him overpower her, after a time, laughing with delight as his lean frame held her pinned against the ground, giddy with the way he stared down at her with her hair all splayed out around her face, her ears bigger and softer than usual.

“Blakk,” she said, her tone light as a shooting star.

She saw the way his expression softened, the edge of hot triumph melting into something fond and gentle and beautiful, and for a moment she wondered if he saw something similar in her. And then something else came into his eyes… was that doubt? Caution? “Hey,” Ahuska said quickly, wanting to keep his mind from drifting down that painful spiral of maybes, wanting to keep him here and now. “Hey. You know how you were wondering what this shape was even good for?”

She lifted one of her back legs; strong and lupine; to bat at his side with a broad wolf-paw. Her tail thumped appeasingly against the snow, thicker and more solid than his lovely long brush.

She laughed at the way he grumbled and squinted at her, as he tried to work out what she was getting at. “You’re quicker on those fox feet, aren’t you? Just like I’m stronger like this. Cover more ground, I… I can move like a proper hunter, my balance is loads better…”

“So? The benefits are categorically better still when we shift all the wa-“

She pushed up her head and cut off his words with a quick, soft peck on the lips. She didn’t even think about it, not really, it was a reflexive gesture just to… shut him up. The effect was immediate, and in his stunned silence she continued. “Yeah, but this way, we can still talk to each other. Sort of like getting the best of both worl…” Ahuska’s thoughts trailed off into nothing as she locked eyes with him, and suddenly felt electrically charged.

His head lowered, and this time she was the one hushed as he brought his lips down to hers, soft as falling snow. He broke away quickly, too quickly, and she felt rather than saw the heat flush his cheeks as his bright blue eyes fell to the side. She felt… she felt more of him than she had any right to feel, connected in a way she did not remotely understand, and the song of the moons ran in her heart as sparks flew through their bond and she reached up to turn his face back toward her.

He looked… uncertain. Apologetic. Shy. “I’m sorry, I overstepped-“

But she would have none of it. She would not have their daylight lives interfere, not now, not when she couldn’t even be sure of what she’d remember when the sun inevitably rose. “Shhhh,” she shut him up with another kiss, and the way he sucked in a little gasp before melting against her made her know this wasn’t going to stop in a hurry. Her wolf-half was powerfully hungry for affection, and under the light of the moons and the glowing fox-fires above, the closeness of pack was all that mattered.

“No, no, I agree, you’re right,” she whispered, pausing for breath. “Talking is not the greatest advantage of these bodies.”

#character ask #ask meme #werewolf au #werewolf!ahuska #blakk!fox

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scholar-thief · 5 years ago

Photo

[ RP LOG ]

Momori meets Njorthrbiartr “Biartr” Hjallr, and go off to buy supplies together at Camp Cloudtop

Biartr had found her way to the bottom of the grand staircase that led up towards Camp Cloudtop. After being assigned duty of ensuring Momori's care, Biartr had taken the first steps of at the very least, clearing the way. Since the camp had been rife with expeditioners going to and fro, the way was clear and the Viera had happily exchanged polite, if not strained words between the local Knight.

Momori made her way to the staircase, a small list of sundries to buy held in her hand. She reviewed it a couple of times - mostly groceries, basic medical supplies, rivets and such. All things that she could procure from the vendors at Camp Cloudtop. She looked up and noticed Biartr, already there and busy talking to one of the locals. “Hello. I’m Momori, and I presume you are...N-jorther-bia-te..r?” Each syllable was carefully sounded out.

Biartr | With her attention suddenly grabbed from the 'local', the Veena's gaze focused on Momori, a twitch of her lips would indicate a small smile as she canted her head politely. "Momori, it's nice to meet you! Yes, ah please, just Biartr is fine and informal enough." Her smile stretched as she pulled stray locks of brunette from her face. "I see that must be our necessities?" She gazed towards the list of sundries questioningly.

Momori: “Just Biartr then. Yes, this is our mission for the day.” She handed the list over to the Viera so that she could get a better look. “I have the gil as well, so this should be easy enough. Though if it were up to me, I wouldn’t have need of quite so many cabbages. But, someone on the ship needs them, so let’s not let anyone down.”

Biartr took the list, squinting at the writing on it. Truthfully, it took her far too long for her to read it in comparison to the average person. "Let's just believe that some are for the more feathered and furred members of our crew." She mused with a swift shrug of her shoulders. "Let's get going - did you want the list back, or want me to keep hold of it?"

Momori: “You can hold it, Just Biartr. Let’s get going then.” Momori’s face, ever stoic, did not give any hint that she was making a friendly jest of her companion. She turned heel and started to walk up the stairs. God, there were so many stairs.

Biartr didn't bother to correct the woman, in truth, she found it incredibly smart.

Momori - Two elezen, vendoring various wares, stand before them. Momori can’t see over their boots. She looks to Biartr, gesturing to the list.

Biartr started blankly for a moment, looking between Momori and the vendors. Eventually, the lantern inside of her head flickered on and she scrambled for the list and handed it down to Momori.

Momori receives the list. Alright, now to get the attention of these two elezen… She starts by clearing her throat, but the two merchants simply look right over her. She tries again, and then again, each attempt separated by exactly six seconds. Finally, the bearded one looks at the pair and acknowledges their presence with no lack of disdain in his eyes. “Feh, what do you two want?”

Biartr instinctively corrected her posture some, her shoulders shifting back. "Trade." Biartr responded in a matched disdain for the situation. Her left hand unfurled from being crossed and gestured to Momori on her left. "My companion has a list of requirements necessary for our ventures and we wish to conduc-" Biartr was cut off from her speech by the trader coughing into his hand and extending that same hand outwards, expecting the list. "Alright, don't need a life story."

Momori looks over to Biartr, and then back at the trader, her mind balancing the pros and cons of giving the elezen a taste of their own verbal medicine, so to speak. For now, she lets it go, and hands him the list. With several grumbles, he moves to and fro, collecting items here and there to fulfill the order, and then dumps the sack in front of Momori and Biartr. A half rotten cabbage rolls out of it, and Momori raises a brow.

Momori: “Could we get a replacement for this one?”

Biartr peers into the sack at the sight of the rotten cabbage, perching herself up on her tip toes before picking up the rotten cabbage and holding it back out towards the trader in her palm. "Also, it would be preferable not to have /half/ a roll of bandages." Biartr interjected, pulling a handful of half-bandage rolls in her right hand. The trader rolls his eyes before shaking his head. "No." He stated simply, only to be stared down by the Veena suddenly before he scrambled for his words. "Your lot have been running us dry. It's all we have." He stretched a crooked smile, shifting on his feet. Considering the expedition had hardly been there long, it was likely that was not the case.

Momori has had enough of this nonsense. She holds up the bag of gil, meant for payment, in one hand and a dagger in the other. Without batting an eyelash, she gives it a slow stab, and then removes the blade. Coins trickle from the opening and onto the floor. “We /could/ get our wares and be on our way, as is the proper relationship between merchant and customer. Or, we could do things the hard way.”

Biartr hurriedly looks between the woman and the merchant. Biartr was supposed to be the muscle and, well she felt somewhat useless standing with her arms full of groceries. Thinking this must be some sort of custom of mainland Eorzeans, she takes the rotten cabbage from her arms, drops it on the floor and impales her spear against it. She quite enjoyed this form of diplomacy. Much to both of their surprise, the Trader didn't so much as move an inch, folding his arms as a sneer stretched upon his features. "We're the only traders up her if you wish to do business, you would do well not to shoot yourselves in the foot."

Momori: “I am surprised that traders such as yourselves do not recognize the veritable goldmine standing right in front of you. Would that you were to disappear from Camp Cloudtop, there’s good reason to believe that other, more reasonable entrepreneurs would fill that gap. Ones that would be open to trading with a large, /funded/ expedition of Eorzeans, no matter their background.” Momori whips her dagger around and sheathes it in one fluid motion, and looks approvingly to Biartr. It seemed they were of the same mind.

Biartr | The Merchant grumbled, his gaze dropping in a rude manner towards the lalafell. Eventually, he dropped down briefly to pick up a gil coin and inspect it as if it were possibly fraudulent. For the most part, he seemed to completely ignore Momori's words until he had finished inspecting the coin. "I'm sure the Knight's would have something to say about that," He eventually grumbled before gathering up the coins in a greedy manner. "Supplies are in limitation until the next shipment from Ishgard, however." That crooked smile once again appearing on his face. To his behest, Biartr picked up the entire bag of goods and emptied the contents on the floor, kicking a rotten cabbage towards his way. It was clear the two were actually handed the trash.

Momori sighed. It was unlikely that Ishgard would take their side in such matters, and if not for the Father’s strict orders to....not break the law, she would’ve already shown these two how disagreements were handled in the shady underbelly of Ul’dah. She pulled Biartr aside, out of earshot of the two merchants.

Momori: “Option one. Help these two dogs out with some problem, build trust, and get what we’re rightfully owed.” She paused. “Option two. They took our payment, we got faulty goods. We simply take what is ours. I am, of course, open to other ideas, though these two are being unnecessarily...troublesome.” If Momori was angry, she did not show it the same way her words did.

Biartr scratched at her head as she was pulled aside - much like Momori, had she not been constrained by the Expedition she'd be a fraction rougher. She listened to the words of Momori as if she were the wisest tradeswoman in Eorzea, and in truth in Biartr's tiny little world in her head that was the case. "I may not be a trader, but if they have a need to be persuaded by exotic goods..." She paused, her eyes canting to the sky for a moment in contemplation. "If they require meats, or scrap...weapons or armour, it's likely something I can personally offer." She glanced to the speared cabbage. "I do not think we should take our losses on this one."

Momori nodded, and then shuffled some of the sack’s original contents back into the bag. It was proof of their unfair dealings, and something that the expedition might be interested in. “Alright, let’s see if we can change their minds yet,” she answered Biartr, and then approached the two elezen once more. One made a visible look of annoyance, questioning why the Viera and Lalafell were still around.

Momori: “Perhaps there is some way we can show our worth. Our trustworthiness. Is there something in these dangerous lands that is particularly valuable to either of you? Some reason keeping you tethered to the Sea of Clouds?”

Biartr | The trader shifted on his feet, counting the gil coins that had been spilled on the floor one by one. He barely looked past his nose nor paid attention to the words that were uttered his way, until a threateningly long silence. "I already know that your expedition will be stationed here for a while, you can wait for the next shipment." He spoke eventually, before looking back over his shoulder into the small hut, hesitating. With a sigh, he placed his hands on hips, jingling the bag of gil. "Fine, Gastornis. They seem to have migrated a little farther this year -- I can give you what we have now, and when the next shipment arrives from Ishgard, I'd be more than happy to take ten gastornis and their eggs in exchange for what you're missing."

Momori nodded. What a pain. But she was glad to have finally made some agreement with the merchants. It was a step in the right direction. She finished tying up their bag of trash and tried (and failed) to pick up the much too large delivery. A glance is exchanged towards Biartr.

Biartr picks up her spear and reattaches it to her back, rotten cabbage and all. She offers a small smile and picks up the sack with ease. "The hunt should not be hard to obtain at the very least, we can get the rest of the supplies eventually. When it is possible for us not to take away from the citizens here, at least."

#Momori Mori #Njorthrbiartr Hjallr #ff14 rp logs #heartless AU

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snowstcrm · 6 years ago

Text

LONG MAY SHE REIGN - 02

Summary: Daenerys had always set her eyes on the Iron Throne when she had been destined for something far greater from the start. With a second chance at life, the Targaryen queen decides to abandon Westeros and sets her focus on the origins of her ancestors. She woke dragons from stone and would raise an empire from ancient ruins.

Chapter warnings: uncomfortable religious ramblings

01 - 02 - 03

--> link to ao3

The free city of Volantis looked beautiful from above with the sun beginning to set, far different from the cities in Westeros and much more familiar with what she had known her entire life. The air was hot and humid which was such a stark contrast to the cold, dry climate she had experienced during her weeks in the north. She breathed it in, her lungs coming alive and for the first time in many weeks she was able to truly feel an ounce of happiness. Daenerys couldn’t even be bothered with the sweat that was building up beneath the furs she wore, though she also couldn’t wait to adorn lighter clothing. It was something she had taken for granted before leaving Essos. She missed the heat now.

She circled above the massive city harbour, already hearing the distant yells and shouts from sailors below. Daenerys needed to gather her strength and make the Volantenes, especially the nobles, know who she was and know that their time was limited. She did not forget that Volantis was one of the conspirators that supported the Sons of Harpy, nor did she forget that there are five slaves for every free man in the city. While she may have many supporters in the form of religious servants and the enslaved, the powerful masters in this city would want her dead-- just like Meereen. Just like everywhere else.

The masters would be dealt with in due process, however for the time being she was in search of the temple of R’hllor. Though she wasn’t too familiar with the religion itself, years ago she had read and knew of its roots in Volantis when she studied the history of the city.

Drogon roared before swooping lower, flying across the city to announce Daenerys’ presence in a display of power. As she approached the east end, a massive wall of dragonglass stood in her way as a means to protect the oldest part of Volantis, though it didn’t serve as much of a barrier when Drogon shot upwards and over to the other side.

A temple that rivalled the size of the Meereenese pyramids came into view, massive pillars and domes and buttresses displaying incredible design. At the tip of the temple was a large fire burning with ferocity, making it obvious to whom this site was dedicated to. There was a crowd of thousands gathered at the front of the building and she heard the screams mixing with shouts of awe as she landed Drogon on the steps leading up to the temple. Her eyes scanned the crowd, watching as even those that had been frightened began yelling and cheering in the city’s Valyrian dialect. This was… a surprising yet reassuring reaction. A reminder. Westeros may not want or need her, but there were many that were desperate for a change in their circumstances. Remember your roots. Remember why you always did what you did. When she was a child she had been yearning for a change, to be freed from her chains, and she had wanted to give that freedom to everyone else that sought it too.

“Volantene!” A voice shouted above the rest and Daenerys looked over her shoulder towards a man standing at the top of the steps, his face covered in tattooed flames. He must have been preaching before her arrival. “The Lord has finally led Azor Ahai reborn to us! Daenerys Stormborn, the champion!” Flames leapt from his fingers as he roared, and she was almost taken aback by his display of magic. “Her fire will be the one to drive the darkness out of this world!”

Cheers and yells were certainly not the way she had been expecting to be welcomed, but it was something that she needed though she dare not admit it. This was what it had always been about. She wanted to give people hope. She wanted to help. It had been an earnest and good desire before it became twisted by grief.

The evening had turned into night by the time Daenerys said her farewells to the Volantenes gathered outside and followed the high priest through the large temple doors for a more private conversation. As they entered her eyes were greeted with massive pits and golden stands, the orange light of their fires danced across looming statues and illuminated ancient artwork on the walls.

She almost got lost in looking at the interior of the temple, but she finally looked at the man and said, “Your name was Benerro correct?” She spoke in High Valyrian and noticed that the priest could alternate between the local dialect and the old form when needed.

“It is, your Grace.” The tall, spindly man had an almost off-putting presence, his appearance gaunt. “I am a high priest of R’hllor. I first saw your visage in the flames many moons ago. You are his chosen champion, the one that will push back the darkness.”

“The darkness was defeated-- I thought it was, at least. But I saw… things. Visions. I don’t know what to think of this talk anymore.” She replied, brows furrowing as she glanced over at a large fire contained in a metal pit in the center of the open hall. “Your god brought me back to rebuild Valyria, to have magic and dragons return to the forefront of the world-- or so I was told by the priestess Kinvara. I know that I can do it, but I’m not sure that I should. If it’s right. If I’m the one that should do it.”

He walked over to the burning fire she had been starting at, watching the flames as if gathering information while he spoke, "You were travelling down a path that might destroy the world, but you were also the one who helped saved it. You may think yourself a monster, but the world isn’t changed through soft-spoken words and caresses. That is the reality, and many innocents are unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. We already knew that non-believers would be cleansed by the thousands.”

She felt the sting of tears threatening to fall from her eyes but she willed them not to. How could he be so indifferent? Is this how she had sounded to Jon? “It was wrong.” Her voice had a slight shake, “What I did.”

“It is also reality.” He repeated the sentiment. “You cleansed the land of its immorality just as the mountains cleansed Old Valyria. Though I believe it was already written in stone, I see that it eats away at your spirit and I pray that you find peace with it. My words may seem insensitive to you but I simply see things as small parts of a grander destiny for us all. What you did brought you here, and that’s all that matters.” There was a change in his tone when he finally said, “There will always be creatures that lurk in the darkness. Fire made flesh is the only thing that can keep them at bay. That’s why you are alive today."

A silence hung over them as Daenerys stared at the side of his face. For a moment she could understand why Jon chose to do what he did, and the thought crushed her already scarred heart. She could not bring herself to trust this man, but he was her best ally for the time being. Her face solidified, void of vulnerability as she replied, "If I am to rebuild Valyria I will need many hands."

"The servants of the Lord of Light will support your cause, as will a large portion of the slaves in Volantis if given the option. They've been waiting to see you in the flesh for years. Stories of your liberating have travelled across the Free Cities and the triarchs of Volantis have been fearing their fall ever since. They’ve even tried to destroy the temple because we preach in support of you." He spoke with almost a scoff.

Her focus stayed on the flames, beginning to see visions in them. Vague images of mountains crumbling and falling away, fire raining from the skies, and clear waters becoming dark and smoking. "I cannot promise a peaceful life here in Volantis if they revolt and kill their masters. Revolution always threatens destabilization. I learned it in Meereen and the other cities. What I can promise though, is that every slave of this city has a home in Valyria if they so desire it. Whoever kills their master can find sanctuary under the dragon and never be harmed again. The hands that build Valyria will be those of free men."

He watched her with a look she couldn’t quite decipher. It was almost a look of relief, as if he had been waiting for this moment for ages. “The triarchs of Volantis will fall. Every night I’ve preached to thousands that have been burning for a change but have held back over the fear of being left stranded once on the other side. You’ve given them a choice now, and many will take it. His fire will cleanse this city like it did the others.”

She finally turned away from the flames, looking over at Benerro, “There’s a problem though isn’t there. Are the servants of this temple not bought as slaves or taken in as offerings? I don’t understand why you so strongly support my cause when your temple ranks will fall apart as well.”

"They are. As am I.” He gave a small gesture to the tattoos covering his face. “There were many that were bought to serve the temple, and many that willingly came and sought refuge in these walls. Our temple does not condone slavery, but we have had to speak the language that the city and its people understand. We’ve bought many servants, but they are not slaves to any living man. The lord’s servants have all been waiting for the chance to overthrow the triarchs. If any of the high priests were slave masters we would have never supported you."

Daenerys had always been uncompromising with slavery so she could not fathom his approach. There were thousands in this city that loved and believed in this man though, so perhaps she could be willing to understand his methods. Not everyone had dragons or an army large enough to take a city through force alone. "It doesn't matter the circumstances. Every single man, woman, and child will be free in Volantis, including the temple’s servants. You will give them the option to leave their servitude and allow them to take it without any retribution."

"As his champion wishes." He chuckled. “I promise you with the lord as my witness. I am on your side. Volantis will join the Bay of Dragons and adopt its policies.”

For now she could only trust in his word. She still held a healthy skepticism for the man, but he also gave her enough reason to believe in his motivations. She nodded in understanding before reaching her hand out, offering it to seal their alliance, “May it be done with fire and blood if necessary.”

He nodded, his hand meeting hers halfway, “Fire and blood.”

She was offered a place to rest in the temple that night but opted to stay with Drogon outside of the city. She changed into clothes that were offered to her however, ridding herself of the winter furs unfitting for Essos while keeping her ever present riding pants and boots. Before leaving the temple she had put on a deep red gown with billowing sleeves, cuts in the thighs, and a deep scoop neck. A large sash of the same colour was wrapped from her waist up to her shoulders and served as a head-covering.

Valyria was not too far off from here and she was already preparing herself for the task ahead of her. Like many others she had heard awful stories of what lurked in the ruins of Valyria. She heard of living shadows, strange creatures, bubbling waters, red skies, and stone men. Everything was telling her that the land would be revived and built anew-- the priests, the flames-- so she had the confidence that it would come to pass. It was just a matter of how… Was the heart of winter that Kinvara spoke of enough? Would the red priests and priestesses be enough to clean and control whatever magic that had been free to roam the abandoned ruins? She could only keep pushing forward and then deal with any barriers in her way once she reached them.

The rebirth of dragons… She dreamed wistfully. There was nothing that could every replace Viserion and Rhaegal, but to bring new dragons into the world… Whenever she thought of it her heart was set ablaze with bright fires. They called to her blood.

Benerro wasted no time in implementing his plan. He sent hundreds of servants out into the night to send whispers across the city, letting them know that Daenerys Stormborn that had conquered and freed the Bay of Dragons from its masters has come for the triarchs of Volantis next with the words of fire and blood. By early morning the streets were red and fires were set to ancient buildings belonging to the Old Blood. The Fiery Hand of the temple took up arms against any city guards that opposed the rebellion and were joined by men wielding knives, stones, and anything else they could get their hands on. The swarm was unstoppable and Daenerys could only watch from her vantage point in silent wonderment. The city had been a massive pyre, unlit and waiting. All that was needed was a spark that would set it blazing. The black shadow that had flown over the city the day prior was the people’s hope and the death omen of any unyielding masters.

The smoke had created a small overcast by midday. Daenerys drifted out of her light sleep and took the sight in. The majority of the city was left untouched, but most, if not all the larger buildings had been burned down and their ashes covered everything around them in white. It was perhaps the first time any of the citizens had seen anything akin to snow. Queen of the Ashes, Daenerys scorned. If I will be remembered as Queen of the Ashes, then let it be like this.

She stood up and mounted Drogon, flying down over the city and circling it as liberated men cheered at the triumphant roars of the dragon. During her flight she noticed that the temple had been left standing as one of the only ancient buildings unscathed by the rebellion. She circled the city twice to commemorate the people’s victory before heading towards the bay and off towards Valyria.

Come. Build a new world with me. Join me if you wish.

#long may she reign #my writing #my posts #userfaith #daenerys targaryen #game of thrones

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