#once again: I will miss my scaly dog

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Intruder 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~1.2k

Summary: Fletcher reminds you that she’s a cat 

A/N: This just popped into my head. I'm posting this to delay the baby fic. I suddenly hate it. Enjoy.

Warnings: cursing, dead animals 

You laugh as you and Wanda stumble out of the car and head to the house. You’re not drunk but you feel like it as you giggle and drag your wife toward you for another kiss. Wanda just laughs as she pulls you in and wraps her arms around your neck.

“You’re my favorite, you know that?”

You hum in response as you hug your wife and kiss her nose before leading her inside. You squeeze her hand and quickly open the door so you both can get out of the cold. You and your wife had gone out tonight for one of your rare date nights that were both extravagant and private. Wanda had taken you to dinner where you were the only two dining, and then she’d taken you to an aquarium after hours and let you run wild. She was only mildly interested in the many species that were there; however, watching you run around excitedly between the exhibits was the only thing she really cared about. She loved seeing you unwind and enjoy yourself in a way that you didn’t get to often. It also gave her time to spend alone with you which is also something Wanda feels like she can never get enough of.

“Thank you for tonight, love. I had a great time.”

Wanda smiles widely as she shuts the door behind her and follows you into the kitchen. She ate plenty at dinner, but given that was nearly 3 hours ago, she was getting hungry again. She either needed to go to sleep soon or eat, and given that she didn’t want today to end she was already trying to figure out what to eat. She’s distracted from her thoughts of food by your gasp and she turns to see you staring at something in shock.

“What is it?”

Wanda rounds the counter and she spots the animals all sitting on the living room rug. Boone and Rogue are on either side of Fletcher who’s hissing at them as she stands over a long, scaly--

“What the fuck!? Fletcher no!”

Wanda runs forward to stop her cat from playing any further with the snake that she’d brought in from outside. She didn’t have time to wonder how she’d gotten outside, let alone dragged something so large into the house when you rush forward too. Once Fletcher is removed you have a feeling that the dogs will try to investigate and you don’t want to have to deal with that. You stop short though and Wanda screams as she reaches for her cat only to have the snake at her feet start to move.

“Shit!”

You curse as Wanda runs away with her cat dangling in her arms. Fletcher tries to climb her mom but Wanda’s too distracted by their slithering house guest. 

“Eww, Y/n get it! Get rid of it!”

You shoot the slithering snake an incredulously look before you try to figure out how to do as your wife asks. You’re still thinking when Rogue decides to investigate closer and you nearly shout at him in panic. He flinches but Wanda is quick to reach out for him as you and Boone take off.

“Rogue no! Stop it!”

You snap your fingers at Boone and he comes to sit next to you as you look around frantically for a solution. You smile slightly as you look to your wife who’s just staring at the snake in horror as she clutches both her cat and dog close to her chest.

“I’ll be right back, Wands!”

You run back out into the garage and try to find what you desperately hope you still have from last winter. You miss Wanda shouting after you as you frantically search the garage for a bucket and a…

“Found it!”

Boone follows you back inside and you tell him to sit behind you as you look back to the snake that has continued to move, but its doing so in a way that makes you think it’s not really intentional. You don’t know nearly enough about snakes, but you don’t worry about that right now as you set the bucket down and reach out for the snake with the grabber.

“Okay, okay.”

“Be careful, Y/n. Oh, gross…”

Wanda watches as you attempt to pick up the snake with the grabber unsuccessfully. It’s a little difficult because the snake is unexpectedly heavy and it keeps slipping from your grasp and falling to the carpet again with a thunk. Wanda feels a little sick as she watches the snake stain the carpet with something viscous and you even look mildly disturbed as you grab the bucket and try a different tactic.

“Sorry, snake, sorry. Sorry.”

You cringe as you slide the definitely dead snake into the bucket before breathing a sigh of relief. You look to your wife who’s still holding her cat, but she’s let Rogue go at this point. She tries to peek into the bucket, but she shakes her head and changes her mind. She meets your gaze with a questioning look and asks you something that you hadn’t really considered yet.

“What are you going to do with it now?"

Wanda’s just finished purchasing a new carpet for the living room when you return bucketless and with a tired look on your face. You sigh heavily as you head to the kitchen to wash your hands and then turn to your wife with a smile.

“That was fun, huh?”

Wanda just rolls her eyes before shaking her head as she points to the den. She had ordered a new carpet and then dared to explore the house to try and figure out where Fletcher had escaped. She does this sometimes and despite it scaring her and now grossing her out, she’d never caused too much trouble. The most annoying thing was figuring out what window or door she’d snuck out of.

Luckily the security system helped with that, and Wanda had figured out quickly that the cat door in the den that she’d made sure was locked when they weren’t home had been tripped. She isn’t quite sure how Fletcher did this, but that’s a problem for tomorrow because she’s exhausted.

“Fletcher brought it in through the den, so we’ll probably have to make sure there’s no blood in there tomorrow.”

You sigh at the thought of this, but decide it's a concern for later as you finish drying your hands before walking over to Wanda. You pull her close to you and kiss her hair before leading her towards the stairs.

“I think I’ve had enough excitement for the day. How about we head upstairs?”

Wanda simply smiles at you as she nods in agreement. You’re halfway up the stairs before you see something in the hallway. It’s Fletcher, and she’s licking her paws without a care in the world. It’s not until she looks up and you and Wanda that you realize how wrong you are, and you can’t help but gag at the sight of an eviscerated mouse in your cat’s paws.

“What the fuck, Fletcher!”

 Masterlist

[autumnalwalker]

A Dream About A Cuckoo 

Author's Note/Content Warning: Brief mention of blood, animal (dragon) death, and some horror elements.

I raise dragons.  Not the intelligent talking kind but their more animalistic cousins.  They’re basically flying scaly cats with a tendency to burn whatever winds up in their mouths.  A new clutch just hatched.  One of the eggs in it just sort of showed up one day.  I wasn’t even certain it was a dragon egg, but I cared for it the best I could anyway.  It hatched later than its clutch mates and the dragon that crawled out was small and weak, even for an infant, but that infant dragon’s scales shine with a rainbow iridescence that I have never seen before.  

The young dragons grow, but that one with the shimmering scales remains the runt of the litter, often requiring additional care.  When its clutch mates are the size of dogs, it remains closer to an underfed cat.  It struggles to keep up as they play and I often fear it will be hurt in the play fighting.  

One day the strange, shining runt has a growth spurt overnight.  Still not as large as the others, but the size gap is smaller now.  One of the other young dragons has gone missing.  A possible connection doesn’t occur to me until some weeks later when it happens again.  I try to deny and bury the thought.  

The three remaining dragons of the clutch are nearly horse-sized now, and the once-runt with the iridescent scales that catch the light oh so beautifully is the largest of them all.  It’s grown difficult to deny what is happening but somehow I still manage. 

This time the noises in the night are too loud and too pained to ignore.  I enter the metal, fireproof stable with a flashlight and find one of the dragons curled up and cowering in a corner.  I follow crashes and cries further in.  My flashlight beam falls on the rolling, twisting, forms of the shining-scaled dragon and its clutch mate.  The light scatters off its scales and paints the walls with a rainbow that almost distracts from the red dripping from its blue-scaled sibling.  The struggle stops and the plain dull blue one goes still.  

The ensuing silence doesn’t last long before being broken by the wet sound of chewing.  I stand watching, paralyzed with fear, horror, and something harder to name but undeniably sublime.  Eventually my precious little rainbow raises its head and looks down at me with red dripping from its jaws.  

It opens its mouth and thanks me for my understanding.  

[aileuromania]

First of all I need to say this: I am really going to miss my scaly dog.  8-( Technically the release date isn’t that far away, but in reality it’s a long time to go scaly-dogless.  8-(

Also in these pictures is Enla, of course, and a new girlie - Sjoukje. I finally have a girlie I want to be a true Daredevil on. And my headcanon is that Sjoukje came to Amnoon and saw Enla* participating in the raptor races, and that’s how they met. These pics are here so I can hopefully recreate their looks sometime.

* Enla is probably going to have a different name when we go live, but she’ll still be a Kaivas, no matter what.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Geeking out about Arknights, again. This time let me start from the utmost starting point... Introducing this game's vast, vast universe.

Here we are, the world of Terra. In Terra, the concept of normal humans (homo sapiens) doesn't really exist. Instead we have numerous races of humans, the term humans just refer to people as a whole. Most of the races are just anthropomorphic humans with animal-like features (or just full on furry or even scaly) . I once mentioned the Sarkaz being inspired by demons. We have Felines (self-explanatory), Ursus (Bears), Sankta (angels, they don't have feathery wings but most do have a halo), Liberi (birds), Perro (Dogs), Aegir (Sea animals as a whole), Zalaks (Rodents), Caprinae (Goats), Elafia (deers), Vulpo (Foxes), Lupos (Wolves), Cautus (rabbits), a lot more. I'd be here until tomorrow if I list them all. Of course, not limited to irl animals, we do have races that are based on fictional or supernatural beings.

Btw, miss Specter your beloved is an Aegir and she's based on a now extinct shark species. The type with a round saw blade lower tooth.

The thing about Terra is that the development of it revolves around a fictional crystalline ore called Originium. It's described to be black and semi-transclucent. It's a major source of energy and powers a lot of stuff. Nitrocellulose and gunpowder do not exist, and guns are operated by Originium.

In Terra, there are many natural catastrophes called, well, Catastrophes. Those include, but not limited to, hurricanes, volcano eruptions, sandstorms, hail, sometimes meteor showers. They happen in unpredictable timings, and always leave destruction where they sweep across. That's why the people of Terra developed Nomadic Cities, cities that are built on vehicles that, upon receiving prior predictions of a Catastrophe, would be able to move out of the danger zone.

After a Catastrophe, there remains Originium.

Originium is a fantastic and important energy source, but it comes with trouble. If a person ingests or has prolonged exposure to Originium, they contract a terminal disease called Oripathy and are called, Infected. Bring Infected makes them able to use Arts, Arknights equivalent of magic, way better. But at the same time that accelerates the speed of which their Oripathy gets worse.

The Infected people are very heavily discriminated against in most countries in Terra. Some even get exiled out of their countries after contracting Oripathy, some lose their job, some are kicked from their academies. The Infected are almost treated as "monsters" in Terra.

Fun fact: Most of the countries in Terra are landlocked. The only country that is familiar with the concept of "the ocean" is Iberia and Higashi (see map above) and the concept of the ocean is completely mysterious to non-Aegirian people.

Btw, Arknights is depressing 🥹

Welcome to Arknights. Maybe I'll talk about the different nations on that Terra map above sometime later hehe

Oh geezus chrust I got a whole introductory book ahahaha!

I was actually very confused and curious when you mentioned that they're largely hybrids but now you mentioning that there's no uh pure humans makes things make more sense. Also Specter is a shark?! Actually you know what, it does make sense after looking at it haha

So that's why they're called Arknights, I've always been confused about that part. Does that mean that uh well do they die faster then? Is that the end game for Oripathy, like what gets worse? Do they get fucked up or smth? It's confusing why they're being discriminated against with this mini summary aha maybe I should read up on that part at least

OH BUT I LOVE THE CONCEPT OF MOBILE CITIES and how they're very much in tune with the worldbuilding in this universe instead of just, ohhh looks cool, let's do that!

Rosmontis :(( (but also my cup of tea tho hhhh sorry sweet child-)

Edit: I now know more about Oripathy.

[owlsinathens]

HotD or TOW the Pulled Pork

Excuse me for a second - a PUG????? A fucking PUG???? I mean. Are there pugs in the world of Ice and Fire? I did a search of the books for any mention and I did find loads of Germ describing people as pug nosed, which would imply that people know what a pug is, but no mention of an actual PUG pug, so my guess is Germ just didn't think about it twice. But omg that dog stuck out like a sore thumb, especially it being a rather modern type of pug bread with the completely flat nose. Anyway.

I was a bit meh at the whole crabfucker thing. Like, he's this super evil guy (is it greyscale or burn scars? I thought the latter but have read otherwise) that Daemon and the Velaryons have been fighting for over 3 years and then it gets resolved in 10 minutes just because Daemon couldn't bear to have Viserys' help?? But oh oh oh Seasmoke was glorious.

Which brings me to Caraxes - he's so much more snakelike than the other dragons. Blood wyrm, indeed. Reminds me a little of a scaly, not very nice Falkor with wings.

Jason Lannister, huh? He certainly lacks the charms and good looks of his descendants. Also did he really try to fucking roofie the princess in a camp full of people??

I love how The Rains of Castamere is woven into the soundtrack once again. Gives me chills every single time.

Viserys really is a sympathetic fellow, at least to me, for now. Not a good or a bad king, but very mediocre. I think he really really wants to be a good king, a good husband, a good father, but he's just not that good at executing it. Paddy Considine is killing it with his portrayal.

Which brings me to Rhaenyra. She's a bratty, sullen teenager and I love her. I love Milly Alcott, I'll be so sorry to see her go. The pulled pork scene was really great, as was her marching into camp streaked with blood like the warrior she is/will be.

Still don't like Criston Cole, but he does cut a fine kingsguard.

The clothes. The clothes, the clothes, the clothes. I love every single outfit Rhaenyra wears. Alicent's too, but especially Rhaenyra's.

Not sure about Otto still. He's definitely a scheming scarecrow, but - and here I go comparing again - he seems like a weird mix between Tywin and Littlefinger without their respective 'geniuses' - will see how he develops. Don't like.

I don't know if anyone remembers that weird Robin Hood anime? I don't remember anything except the intro (in German tho), a knight dude I kinda fancied named Gilbert - and some sort of mystical white stag. Although that one had a cross between its antlers iirc.

I noticed the missing fingers - is Viserys being taken apart bit by bit by that goddamn throne?? I mean. Take some care, my man! Remember what happened to Maegor I!

And last, but not least, I know Daemon didn't say a single word but yeah this episode has cemented it for me: Matt Smith is invoking Iwan Rheon's Ramsay in his portrayal of Daemon. The body language, the mimic, etc. Hubby agrees on that, but then he still can't tell people apart, so yeah. I'm curious to see how the character develops, he's interesting enough, but oh I loathe him.

I still like this series.

[bcdrawsandwrites]

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T

Genre: Angst

Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Loboto’s parents

Warnings: Surgery, lobotomy, hallucinations, child abuse, EVERYTHING IS HORRIBLE AND NOTHING IS OKAY WITH THIS (but there’s nothing graphic)

Description: Just be still, and you'll be fine.

Beta Readers: @jaywings​ and Rocket (who I’m not sure is on Tumblr?)

Notes: who let me write Psychonauts fanfic. also some of the phrases in this fic were taken from this site.

---~~~---

“Scattering sparks of thought energy

Deliver me and carry me away”

“Here in my kingdom, I am your lord

I order you to cower and præy”

- The Mind Electric, by Tally Hall

 ---

Sometimes it was nice to just lay down in the park and watch the clouds float overhead.

He often had a lot of energy, both normal and... well... unnatural, but sometimes it was nice to relax, especially when he didn't feel like himself. His energy was ebbing, and there was something… something...

"Can you tell us another?"

He glanced up. Several of his usual playmates were standing around him, their faces lit up in interest. He grinned a wide, toothy grin.

"The boy babbled blatantly but was blessed with a brilliant brain!"

"Good!"

The compliment made his brow furrow. Normally they might cheer "cool!" or "awesome!" but he shrugged—he'd take it. It gave him a warm feeling inside, unlike the frequent chill of his own home. Plus, he couldn’t help but light up as he watched the smiles on his friends’ faces—some of them were still losing baby teeth, he noted, and the progression was fascinating. He knew what he could do to see more of those grins, too...

Without raising his head too much—it hurt a little, and he could see well enough from where he was—he glanced around to make sure his mother wasn't too close by. Luckily she was way off in the pavilion, talking to several other adults. Good; she wouldn't see, and neither would the other prying parents.

"How about this?" he asked, and with a tiny bit of concentration lifted a few rocks off the ground, spinning them in circles. Instead of cheering, however, the children backed away, their smiles fading.

"Look, he's trying to—!" one girl whispered frantically.

"Don't worry, he's fine for now."

He frowned, dropping the rocks. "O-oh, I'm sorry! I didn't think they would see..."

"That's okay. Can you tell us another?"

"Disappointed dogs don't do dangerous deeds." Wincing, he closed his eyes—there was a breeze that seemed to pass over his head only, running through his hair.

His scalp felt cold.

---

"Go on, Caligosto. Show the doctor how you can pick it up."

"Like this...?"

"No, the other way."

"But... mother doesn't like it when I do it that way."

"Do as you're told, Caligosto."

"...Okay..."

The fish swam all about the pond, but came closer to the surface when they realized he was watching from his usual spot on the shore. As they nearned him, he settled over the grass, staring down at his scaly friends. The fish seemed to like his company, and they wouldn't snitch to his parents if he did anything they wouldn't like.

On top of that, he felt a connection with them, almost like the sort of connection he could feel with people. They couldn't talk, and they didn't have facial expressions… but he could almost read them somehow, more and more as he continued visiting. Now he could sense what foods they wanted, or when they were scared of a nearby predator. It was nice to help them out.

It was also interesting to see the different kinds of teeth the fish had—some had sharp fangs, some had tiny flat teeth, and some had teeth in weird places, like their tongue or throat!

"Can you hear us?"

He would have jumped, but that would have scared the fish. As it was, he leaned forward, his eyes wide beneath their glasses. "Yes! I can hear you!" He could hardly contain his excitement. "I'd always thought I could hear you before, but never this clear! Do you think—"

"Good! Can you tell us another?"

He blinked. "Another what?"

"Another phrase."

Oh, right. In his excitement he'd nearly forgotten that he'd occasionally show off for the fish as well, though he'd never been sure if they could understand. "Friendly fish flip-flop fast when facing fearsome foes!"

"Very good!"

Giggling, he settled himself back down on the soft grass. "I'm glad you think so... my parents always tell me to be quiet."

Apparently, the fish had nothing to say to this, for they remained quiet, swimming just under the surface and watching him. So he kept watching them too, observing the light that reflected off their scales. But one creature caught his eye: a small turtle swimming in place. It was odd to see to begin with, but the paddling of its little feet seemed strangely frantic, its front legs moving in big sweeping arcs. It didn't speak, but he swore he could hear it—

Away, away—

---

"Is that... all he's capable of?"

"I'm afraid not."

"D—Father, are we done? I don't like it here..."

"Only speak when spoken to, Caligosto."

"Can we see anything else?"

"Yes."

"I-I don't want to—"

"Caligosto."

"Okay, okay! Let me—"

---

The seas were calm, and he had worked hard today as a navigator (or was he first mate? he couldn't quite remember, but that was okay), keeping a close eye on the compass and making sure they were staying on course. They were nearing the shore, but for now, he was taking a break, resting against a coil of rope with his eyes closed, enjoying the smell of the ocean air and the feeling of sunshine.

And also trying to forget his headache—he was pretty sure he bumped his head coming down from the crow's nest.

"You're doin' good today, mate! Squawk!"

He opened one eye, noting the parrot sitting just behind him. "Thanks, Crackers!"

Birds hadn’t been something that interested him too much at first; what kind of silly animal didn’t have teeth? That is, until he’d learned that birds have a weird organ that acted as their teeth. Fascinating!

The parrot cocked her head at him. "Do you know any more?"

Oh right, of course the parrot enjoyed those phrases. "The pretty parrot perched upon the putrid pirate's peacoat!"

Crackers gave a pleased chirp, ruffling her feathers.

Wincing, he found his headache was starting to get worse, like a bad toothache, and closed his eyes again. "Do you think we'll reach shore soon?"

We won't if you don't get out.

He opened his eyes. Crackers was gone.

---

"STOP! STOP! MAKE IT STOP!"

"What are you doing?!"

"I-I just did what you asked—"

"I didn't tell you to—!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Put him out, hurry—"

"We've seen enough, doctor. We'll schedule an appointment for your son next week."

"N-next week?!"

"Very well. He'll be there promptly."

---

The kids’ expressions had changed from bright smiles to tightly-drawn lips and wide eyes, and it made him shudder. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, it's fine. Tell us another."

"The store..." He paused, concentrating. Strange, he didn't usually have trouble remembering these things, but it must have just been his headache. "The store clerk stood and... stared at me in stupor."

"I would too after what I've seen," one kid muttered, only to be shushed by another.

His heart gave a pained jolt. "Wh-what?"

"Nothing!"

He didn't like the way they were talking—it reminded him of... something else. Someone else. Another child stepped closer to him, looking down at him with a furrowed brow and frightened eyes. He felt the sudden urge to scoot away.

You're in danger.

---

"Wh...where am I supposed to go?"

"Just in through these doors."

"Okay... Why do I have to come back here to the doctor, though? I feel fine."

"Nevermind that. Do you remember what your father told you to do?"

"Yeah! The fun phrases. I know a million of those!"

"Good."

"Would you like to hear... w-wait, who are all these people watching? Wh... what are those?"

---

The fish were swimming in circles and starting to make him dizzy. He rested his head down in the cool grass, but it did little to help. "Oh... sorry. I'm not feeling so good. I should be going home..."

"You can go home soon. Tell us another first."

"Ugh... My mom... m-my... mother makes a... marvelous... meat... mincemeat pie." Recalling these phrases was starting to feel like what he imagined pulling teeth felt like, but a lot less fun. Was his mother missing him now? How long had he been gone? "I... really need to go home now."

"No you don't."

His eyes shot open, and he shivered as he stared down at the fish. "Wh... what did you... say?"

"Don't try to move. You'll be all right."

All of the fish watched him eagerly... but the turtle was still waving its front feet even more frantically.

---

"Don't worry about that."

"N-no! I know what those tools are—I've read my dad's books. You're gonna hurt me!"

"Nonsense. Just lay on the bed and you'll be fine."

"No, I don't want to! You can't make me!"

---

The ship heaved up and down with the swell of the waves. His insides rolled with it, and he remained lying on the coil of rope, waiting for his stomach to stop lurching and his head to stop aching.

"You stopped. Keep going."

"Ugh... The newt... nuzzled in a... n-narrow... nook."

"Good."

"No, it's not, Crackers! I don't feel good..."

"You're fine, squawk! Try to distract yourself."

"Okay..." Opening one eye, he raised a shaky hand, lifting the end of the rope and making it snake through the air, though it shuddered all the while. It was a lot more difficult than usual... Normally he could lift several objects at once, and delighted the crew by juggling them. He felt like he should be able to do other things too, but what?

---

"Oh mercy! He's going to kill someone!"

"Caligosto, if you don't stop this at once, I will call your father!"

"So call him! I want him here! Why didn't he come with me?!"

"Oh no, he's trying to light the chair on fire—"

"Go get the earmuffs, now."

"MOM! DAD! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"GET THEM NOW!"

---

The sun was covered in clouds, and the humid air brought a promise of rain. Why were the other kids still here? Surely their parents would have called them home by now. He wished they would. Surely his mom would have called him, too, wouldn't she?

"Tell us another," one girl asked urgently, taking a hesitant step forward.

His head was swimming. "I-I don't wanna..."

"Tell us now."

Focusing, he managed to force his mind to concentrate. "She sniffed... and s-smelled... the stirring storm."

"Good, tell us another," one fish bubbled from the water.

A sharp pain like a broken tooth filled his skull, his insides felt sick, and the rain was beginning to fall. "I... I can't..."

"Tell us, Caligosto."

"B... Bernie read a book... b-by the... ba—babbling brook." He wanted to wipe the rain from his face, but he felt too exhausted to move his arms. "C-can I go... home..."

"Squawk! We're not to shore yet. Give me another."

He stared up at the blurred vision of the bird. "Why...?"

"Do as you're told."

"Th-the... hummingbirds... hovered... a-and hummed in... heavenly..." His voice broke off into a choked sob. "I wanna... no... I wanna... go home..."

"Caligosto?"

---

"I WANT TO GO HOME!"

"Get it on him, get it on—"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"

"Where did he go?!"

"The monster's turned invisible!"

"I WANNA GO HOME!"

"There! Put it on right—there!"

"STOP, I WANNA—"

---

"...go home!"

He blinked.

"You are home, Cali," his mother said, beaming down at him with a wide, pearly-white grin.

"I am?" Blinking again, he looked around. Indeed, he was in front of his house, with his parents both standing on the front porch, as they had been when he'd left. On top of that, his head didn't hurt and he didn't feel sick. "I... I am!"

"You're all done with the doctors now," his father said, smiling. "We're so proud of you!"

"You... you are?" He stared open-mouthed; his father had never told him that before. "I'm all done?"

"Yes you are, dear." His mother knelt down, but he didn't come closer—something was making his hair stand on end. "Almost."

His stomach twisted.

"Just tell us another, son."

"N... no..."

The smile on his father's face faded. "Do as you're told, Caligosto."

"N-no... no, no..." He tried to shake his head, but couldn't. "I... I want to go home..."

The pain was coming back, spiking through his head, and he cried out.

"We're going to lose him—"

"No, just a little more."

"No," he sobbed. "No, no! Mom! Dad!"

The park was flooding. The fish were swirling around his head. Waves crashed over the boat.

He had to do something. Anything.

Focusing with everything he had left, he tried to think, tried to move something, tried to make something burn, tried to call for help—

Did—did you hear that?

Cali?

The agony peaked, and his vision turned orange.

---

"Ooooh... ugh..."

"Is this safe?"

"It's safe for us. The psilirium will keep him under control during the procedure."

"But can he still hear us?"

"Son, can you tell us one of your funny phrases?"

"Sure... grass grows greener in the graveyard."

"You see? He'll be fine."

---

There was no park.

There was no pond.

There was no ocean.

There were several doctors staring down at him, a great many more people seated in the theater behind them, and an empty feeling within him.

Something was gone. Something important.

"How do you feel, Caligosto?"

His brain was slow to work, and he could not form the words, but if he could have, he would have answered:

Like... a cavity.

[adrianasunderworld]

🧡Dragon!RaihanxReader🧡

Drakes Keep

The townspeople live in fear of the dragon in the forest and have decided to make you the sacrifice to save them all. But perhaps the dragon isnt something to fear after all.

      This was how it ends. You thought to yourself as night descended. The only sound was the occasional breeze rustling the branches or the distant howl of a dog. You tried once again in vain to wriggle from the rope that kept you tied to the tree. Letting the back of your head hit the trunk with a thump, you bit your lip and finally allowed yourself to cry. This really was the end. 

       A dragons supper, that was your fate. The creature that called the abandoned castle home had returned, and the fear of what it could do had sent the townspeople into hysterics. Turning to the old ways once more to keep it appeased. Unfortunately for you, that had meant you were the one tossed to the beast. The old stories spoke of fair maidens and kings sons bravely sacrificing themselves for the better of others. But of course no one wanted to send their beloved children to death. But you? Orphaned and thieving,___? No one opposed that. And now you stood, hands bound to a tree as close to the Drakes Keep as they dared to bring you, waiting for death. 

     Night had finally fallen. The sound of crickets and the skittish steps of a rabbit your only company. Then as suddenly as it started, the forest was quiet and still as a grave. Even the breeze that blew the branches seemed to stop. Then the snap was heard. Then another. The crunch of leaves as if something heavy was being dragged across the ground. Then you saw it, a pair of teal blue eyes peeking out from between the trees. Tears continued to stream down your face as you locked gazes with the creature that would end. 

     "Just make it quick," you managed to choke out, throat raw from your sobbing. Not even sure if the beast could even understand you. "Please, be fast, that's all I ask."

     The dragon finally moved. It slowly stepped out of the darkness and you could see it in it's full view. It's dark midnight scales almost blended into the night, in stark contrast to the golden scales that went up its stomach and throat. It tilted its triangular head curiously as it examined its food. Your eyes snapped shut as it got closer and closer, until you felt the hot breath of your face. The wet sound of its jaws opening was heard, and you could not help but scream.

      Then the ropes went slack.

      "Relax." said a deep voice. "I wont do anything." 

     Opening your eyes, the dragon looked down at you, spitting out a piece of rope. "I...I… I dont understand." You shuddered out, wiping you tear stained face. "You arent going to eat me?"

     The dragon rolled its eyes. "Honestly, what's with these villagers and thinking I want to eat people? Of course not." 

     You removed the last bits of rope around your wrist, glancing at the dragon all the while. It wasn't going to kill you. What did it want? "So…" you began cautiously. "What now? 

       "What do you mean what now?"

       "If I'm not a meal, then what was the point of sacrifices? What is it that you want from the village."

       "Nothing." The dragon replied as if it should have been plain as day. "I never wanted any sacrifices ever. I untie them and let them go. I don't want anything from your village." 

       "But… but…" you stammered. "The missing livestock. And all those old stories about a dragon that burned the town centuries ago!"

      "My grandpa," the dragon replied. "Dont remember much about him, other than he was an old grouch. But that was a couple decades before I was even bored. as for livestock, sorry to say I was hungry. Large game have been scarce. Not my first choice, but you gotta do what you gotta do. Now," the dragon leaned down and sniffed at you, its warm breath blowing at your hair. "Who are you?"

       "-_" you stammered. 

      "And why, ___… did they decide to pick you to feed it the beast?"

      You looked down, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "No one wanted me." You answered honestly. "They were glad to have me gone."

        The dragon sniffed once more, like a hunting hound committing a scent to memory. There was the sound of thunder out in the distance. "Well, you're free of them now." Was his only reply. "Theres another town just south of here." He pointed a claw to his left. "I can only guess you wouldn't want to go back from where you came."

     You looked back between the direction the men who had tied up went,then the dragon, then to the direction he pointed. "So...so you'll let me go? Just like that?" 

     "Just like that." He assured.

It seemed too easy. The dragon letting you go and free to start a new life far far away.  The sound of thunder drew a little closer, and with it the wind returned to rustle the trees. You shivered. They had taken your cloak when you were arrested, and obviously did not bother to give it back when you had been left to die.

     The dragon seemed to take note of this, and tilted his head curiously. "What's the matter?"

      "Cold." You admitted. "Since I can leave, do you happen to know where I could sleep for the night?"

      The dragon eyed you once more and sniffed again as if looking for something of offense. When it seemed he did not find it, the dragon turned and nodded his head towards the direction he had come. "Follow me."

      "You know my name," you said as you followed the creature further into the forest. "What's yours?"

     "Raihan." He replied. "The Great Raihan."

    "Who calls you that?" You asked,trying hard not to snort.

    "Plenty of people." He said, twigs and leaves crunching under heavy feet. "I'll have you know, I have met many a knight and king that called me a great dragon."

     "What kings? Anyone I might have heard of?"

    "All sorts," he assured. "King Lance of Kanto. Queen Cynthia of Sinnoh. And most recently, your king Leon here in Galar."

     "So tell me then, great dragon Raihan, why are you out here in the back water forests outside of my nowhere village?"

    "Just as birds migrate, so do dragons." He explained. "We go from place to place, seeking spots of comfort to rest. Making a new home for ourselves or going to old ones."

    "I take it this is an old home then?"

   "Very old." He finally stopped and gestured to an ancient stone structure. With its half crumbled towers and vine covered parapets. "Very old indeed."

   "I've only ever heard of this place." You said in awe as you walked up the stone steps of the ancient castle. "My grandmother used to tell me about the dragons lair. She and all the other elders called it The Drakes Keep."

     "That's what you humans call it, yes." Raihan replied, pushing his large scaly body against the giant oak doors to open them. "But the true name of this place is Hammerlocke. Hammerlocke Castle."

     Walking into the grand entrance, Hammerlocke caslte was oddly well kept for not having a human inhabitant for centuries. Aside from the few cracks in the stone from age, the floor was clean of dirt and debris. There was even decorative tapestries that still adorned the walls. 

     Raihan pushed against the doors once more to shut them firmly, keeping the cold out. Then you realized something.

     "Um… not to sound rude or anything. But this doesn't look like a living space, and the doorways look far too small for you." 

     "Good observation. Sadly, castle life isn't very accommodating to this form."

     "Form?"

     Instead of elaborating, Raihan showed you what he had meant. In a flash of light you saw the large creature shrink down and take the form of a very tall and very handsome young man. He stretched out and let out a sigh. "Yes form." He grinned at your shocked expression. "There are many things about dragons you don't know."  

      It turned out dragons were very hospitable. Raihan had kept the fire in the sitting room going with ease, making warmer than you had ever known. He had a sorts of finery stashed away, including good coats and blankets of the softest materials. He had explained it was in a dragons to hoard things of great interest or value. Despite that he may not have a need fancy furs to keep him warm or nice bottles of wine, they were still soft to lay on and tasty to drink, and so he kept them. 

      "I'm still surprised dragons can take human form." You commented, swaddled up nicely in the furs Raihan had loaned you, stomach full of the food he had gathered the other day.

      "Oh yes, we are creatures of magic. Dragons,unicorns, the various breeds of fae." He took a sip from the golden goblet he poured the wine into. Unlike you he seemed to not be feeling the effects of it. "We were created by magic, neither human nor animal. So we are free to choose whichever form we please."

       "Do you appear human often?" 

       He shrugged. "I'd say it's fairly even. There is a time and a place for my true form, and I do enjoy visiting cities and what not, and that only really can be done like this." He gestured to his human form. 

       "I was always told dragons would sit in caves on piles of gold. Seeking princesses and young knights to drag away. Never that they like to be tourists."

       "Everyone is different." He said. "Truth be told, all those stories are rather old fashioned. Me? I like humans. Well...some of you." He flashed you a grin, seeming to imply you were one of the likeable ones. "I suppose I've always been a rather curious one. When I was a hatchling, I would sneak off to town and play with local children."

        "Now that does not surprise me," you said playfully while returning his grin. "You strike me as the sort who was a little scamp when they were young."

      "Oh trust me, you are not far off." He chuckled. "My parents could do nothing to keep me away. Everywhere we went, I sought out people, and when I was grown I went all over. I learned to read in many of your human tongues. Learned histories of every land I could. Befriended as many as I could."

      "That sounds amazing," you said wistfully. The life he described sounded like it could have only existed in a novel. You had never been able to venture out past the borders of the village. "I envy you, Raihan. I've never known such freedom." 

      "Well now you can." He replied. "All those townspeople think you won't return. You can start somewhere else."

      Looking down at your own golden cup, your reflection stared back in the red wine. Never go back...that certainly was not the problem. They would not miss you, and you would not miss them. But what kind of life could you have out there? "I doubt wherever I go will be much better."

      "And why is that?"

      "...Once a thieving urchin, always a thieving urchin." You said with all the resentment in you. That brand had followed you over half your life, and odds are it would follow you to the grave.

       "I take it that's why they tied you up to be sacrificed." Looking up, Raihans face portrayed no emotion. Part of you wondered if now he was disgusted knowing he let a thief in here, or maybe he pitied you. Honestly you weren't sure which would feel worse.

        You nodded. "When I was ten, my parents died. My grandmother long gone years before. My father's shop had caught fire, you see. And suddenly I was an orphan. No money, no home, no family. No one wanted to help. I had nothing, and so to the townspeople I was nothing.I did the only thing I could do: I stole to keep myself alive. I was arrested now and then, but I always got out. But the more I did it, the better I was at not getting caught. Well, until recently. And I think you know how that went." 

         "I wish I could say this is the first I've heard something like this, but it does seem like a sad reality to humans."  Raihans face then turned to concern as he reached out to put a hand in your shoulder. It wasn't until the tears were welling in your eyes a moment later did you realize it was because you were on the verge of crying. The events of today finally sinking in. Then he added. "But that doesn't mean you cant move on from it. Trust me, I've lived long enough to know what I'm talking about. Some of the best people I've known have lead similar beginnings to yours. I know it must feel awful now, but it'll get better. I promise."

      "You can't promise anything." You said, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "What am I going to do in this new town? All I know is how to steal. I'll just end up back where I was."

      "I mean, you could add some flare." He said jokingly. "I'd say you'd make a handsome jewel thief that steals hearts along the way." 

      You couldn't help but snort. "That is absolutely ridiculous." 

      "It's merely a suggestion." He grinned. "All I'm saying is why not have some fun with your self fulfilling prophecy?" 

      You paused for a moment. "...What was it like? When you first left to travel?"

     "A bit frightful." He admitted. "But exciting. Often times lonely."

     "Lonely?"

     Raihan nodded. "Yes, dragons, though we live long, are few and far between. Besides my family, it would be a few years before I saw another of my kind. Those stories you talked about of maidens in towers, I can assure you the reason was never malicious. Those drakes did it more for companionship than anything else."

      "You make it sound like you speak from experience."

      "Well…"

      "Raihan, you didn't!"

      "Oh I assure you ___," he smirked like an absolute cad and winked. "All princesses under my protection were there willingly.  And treated very well, if I do say so myself." Your face flushed at what he was implying, and Raihan bursted out laughing.

      After a moment you began to laugh as well. It had been so long since you could sit like this and be friendly with anyone. Raihan was so good natured, it felt like it would be a challenge not to like him. "Are you going to stay in this castle long?" You asked. Wondering if it would be forward to ask if you could visit him from time to time after parting ways.

      "For a few weeks," he said, taking a long drink from his goblet. "Then off to Wyndon."

      "Wyndon? As in the capital city Wyndon?"

       "The one and only. Off to visit a friend for the spring."

      Part of you felt a bit disappointed for him to be leaving so soon. "I hope you enjoy it, " you said,meaning it. "I admit, I'll miss your company."

     "Then dont miss me."

     "What?"

     "Come with me, I could use a travel companion."

     "What would I possibly do in Wyndon?" Even as you said it, your mind raced with the possibilities. You had only heard in passing of the great city where King Leon held court. Of its beautiful building and the wealth of opportunities to be found there.

      "What couldn't you do?" He replied. "The better question is what do you have to lose? Be my travel buddy, ___. See lands beyond this forest. Hear languages you've never heard. Rub elbows with royalty. If you don't like it I can drop you off in that village south of here, how does that sound? Unless of course you're considering being a heartbreaking jewel thief. In which case I wholeheartedly endorse your decision."

        You thought it over and over. Be a dragons companion. Go to the capital and regions beyond. Or go to some other backwater town and possibly live in the mud once more. It wasn't a very hard decision. "I'll take you up on that offer."

       Raihan smiled, a small fang poking at his bottom lip. He tapped his golden cup against yours. "Cheers. We ride in two weeks time."

[anxiousstark]

S3 01 | Tattoo

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 1871

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, blood, murder, dead body, swearing (always).

A/N: SEASON 3 HERE WE COME! Double update this week! 

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

Summer was the greatest thing that happened to us, and without any doubt, the best thing that had happened to me since I arrived at Beacon Hills. Our summer was full of peace, which is what we needed. No creatures were trying to kill us or other people. We were safe, and even though we couldn't avoid being a little apprehensive, we knew that we were finally safe.

Scott, Melissa and I were able to sit down together, explaining to her everything that had happened. We were terrified because it wasn't easy to explain to someone you loved that danger followed you. After all, we weren't humans anymore. That night we told her everything. Melissa got teary, feeling guilty for not being able to help or do anything for us. We told her that we were fine, we would be fine.

During this peaceful holiday, I was able to get closer to both boys. Scott and I didn't throw ourselves at each other's throats. Of course, there was a long way to walk. We still needed to get used to everything. The hazel-eyed boy and I developed a new habit during summer, whenever we felt anxious we seemed to notice, bodies being attracted to each other, hands interlocking, hoping to give the comfort we sought. Holding hands became a soothing gesture between us. We did it unconsciously.

"Hey, Scott, sure you don't want something like this?" Stiles grabbed a folder, holding it up, showing it to the other boy. I walked closer to him, excited to see what was he holding, knowing Stiles, something that would make me snicker. "Too soon? Yeah." Of course, I snickered when I noticed that he was showing Scott the drawing of a beast that looked like the Kanima. Melissa allowed him to get a tattoo.

For what we got to know, Matt was dead. We still weren't sure what that would mean for Jackson. But we had promised ourselves that we wouldn't get into supernatural trouble during summertime. However, tomorrow was our first day back to class, which meant that the supernatural would come back to form part of our lives.

"I don't know, man, are you sure about this? I mean, these things are pretty permanent, you know?" I walked around the room, admiring the drawings decorating the walls.

"I'm not changing my mind." Scott and I got closer especially at night. One night I woke up after having a nightmare where I saw my mother. It seemed like the other McCall was also having a nightmare, which ended in both of us, sleeping on his bed, and talking about the stuff that worried us. That night Scott McCall cried, he missed Allion, but he couldn't ignore everything that had happened.

"Okay, but why two bands?"

Scott shrugged, stating that he just liked it. "But don't you think your first tattoo should have some sort of meaning, you know, or something?"

"Getting a tattoo means something."

Stiles had a small grin on his face, ready to inform Scott that wasn't the point. But the tattoo artist interrupted him. "He's right, tattooing goes back thousands of years. The Tahitian word 'tatua' means 'to leave a mark.' Like a rite of passage."

"Yeah, you see? He gets it."

"He's covered in tattoos, Scott, literally."

"Okay, you ready? You ain't got any problems with needles, do you?"

"Nope." Scott offered me a smile, ready to get the tattoo he has been asking for so long.

The boy standing next to me scratched his chin. "I tend to get a little squeamish though, so..." There was no time to analyze the situation. Stiles was lying on the floor, an uncomfortable posture making the circumstances even funnier.

I sat on the passenger seat on Stiles's Jeep. Scott had bought a bike with the money he had gained while working for Deaton in the clinic. So now, every day, I was driven to class by the hazel-eyed boy.

"Don't you think it was strange?" He asked me again as I spaced out. "It seems like something supernatural to me. Exactly when we go back to class." After Scott's tattoo, we were ready to go home and have dinner together. My half-brother's happiness due to the tattoo didn't last for long as an excruciating pain made him take the bandages off, realizing the tattoo had disappeared. Maybe we should have taken into account that he was a werewolf, and he healed faster. A tattoo was an open wound.

On our way home, we saw Lydia's car, and not to anyone's surprise, she was with Allison. A deer hit the front of their car, making us run to them to check if they were hurt. Scott was convinced that the deer was terrified.

"I suppose, Stiles." I sighed, running my hands through my hair.

"Hey," He glanced at me for a second, quickly looking back to the road ahead of him. "You alright?" His hand ended up resting on top of my hand, which was resting on my thigh.

"I feel like so many bad things are going to happen again." I lamented. "We still don't know anything about me. There are obstacles everywhere."

"I told you. We will find answers, okay?" He squeezed my hand. To be honest, some nights during summer were spent searching for every scaly creature that exists in the supernatural world. But without knowing what I could do, we couldn't conclude anything. When we arrived at school, we walked directly to our classroom.

Stiles and I glanced at each other when only a couple of minutes into the lecture, Scott had to leave class. My mind went to the worst scenario case, thinking that maybe Melissa was in danger. Stilisnki seemed to notice my change of behaviour, extending his hand, offering me to grab it. I did.

He rested back on his chair, sighing, tired from doing whatever the teacher has ordered us to do. "Hey, Lydia. What is that?" When I followed his gaze, I noticed a bandage around the pretty strawberry blonde girl's ankle. "Is that from the accident?"

"No. Prada bit me."

"Your dog?" I asked. Stiles's other hand extended forward, forbidding me from biting my pen, a nervous habit I didn't notice I was doing.

"No, my designer handbag. Yes, my dog." She replied as if I was stupid, which made me grumble a little while Stiles smiled at my reaction.

"Has it ever bitten you before?" Lydia shook her head. "Okay. What if it's, like, the same thing as the deer? You know, like, how animals start acting weird right before an earthquake or something?"

"Meaning what? There's gonna be an earthquake?"

"Or something. I just... maybe it means something's coming. Something bad." Stiles was completely right. Something was wrong, I felt it.

"It was a deer and a dog. What's that thing you say about threes? Once, twice..." Her words were interrupted when something hit the window, leaving a trail of blood. Every student was interrupted form their concentration, glancing at the window. Jennifer, our teacher, walked towards it. Crows, so many crows were coming towards us. Another one hit the window, and then another, and another.

"S-Stiles..." I whispered, my hand rapidly clutching his shirt between my fingers. The windows couldn't resist so many crows hitting it. They ended up being shattered, thousand of crows getting inside the classroom.

I quickly grabbed Lydia as she seemed to be shocked enough to react, covering her head with my arms. I felt someone doing the same thing for me. Stiles's back pressed tightly against mine, the inside of his thighs pressed against the outside of mines. His arms covering my face after he saw that I was hit by a couple of enraged crows.

Of course, the cops had been called. They were now asking around, trying to understand what was going on. However, this was something out of their reach.

"You alright?" Stiles's hands grabbed my cheeks, lightly moving my head from side to side, making sure that there wasn't any wound or scratch.

"You?" My fingers grasped a feather that seemed to be stuck in his hair, pulling it out. He nodded, sighing in relief, taking me into his arms. That is another habit we had developed during the summer.

"Guys," Mr. Stilisnki came closer to us, his eyes focusing on our intertwined hands. "No more class for today, okay?" He offered us a smile. "Go back home, alright? Make sure you guys are in a safe place." We both nodded.

"Yeah, I see it. It's two bands, right? What does it mean?"

"I don't know. It's just something I traced with my fingers."

"Why is this so important to you? Do you know what the word 'tattoo' means?"

"To mark something." Stiles crossed his arms while letting Derek know as if he didn't know already. He looked so proud of himself.

"Well, that's in Tahitian. In Samoan, it means 'open wound'. I knew I wanted to get a tattoo when I turned 18. I always wanted one. I just decided to get it now, to make it kind of a reward."

"For what?"

"For not calling or texting Allison all summer. Even when I really wanted to, even when it was so hard not to sometimes. I was trying to give her the space she wants. Goin' four months later, it still hurts. It still feels like a, uh..."

"Like an open wound." Stiles finished for him. I sniffed, wiping my wet cheeks. I could feel a pair of eyes on me. "Wait, are you crying?"

I sobbed even harder when the boy standing next to me noticed that I was weeping. "I don't know why," I continued cleaning my face. "I just got emotional." The three boys grinned, Stiles embracing me while softly laughing.

"The pain's gonna be worse than anything you've ever felt." Derek let him know, but that wasn't going to scare Scott.

Fire. He was going to burn Scott. "Oh, wow. That's a... that's a lot for me. So I'm gonna take that as my cue. I'm just gonna wait outside." He tried to leave, and I tried to follow him, but Derek wasn't having any of it when he got up, grabbing us from the back of our shirts, and telling us to hold Scott down.

When we were leaving Derek's house after holding Scott down, who cried loudly, until he passed out. The McCall boy couldn't help but grin and be excited about his first tattoo.

"Well, it looks pretty damn permanent now." Stiles examined it, hands deep down in his pockets.

"Yeah. I kind of needed something permanent. Everything that's happened to us... everything just changes so fast." I sighed, linking my arms with both boys, who offered me a smile. "Everything's so, uh... Ephemeral."

"Studying for the psats?"

"Yep."

"Nice."

Scott opened the front door, but rare enough, he examined it while rubbing his fingers against the wood. "You painted the door. Why'd you paint the door?" He asked, looking back at Derek.

"Go home, Scott."

"Hey," I intervened. Scott's breath got quicker, scratching the paint off the door. "What is going on, Scott?" There was a symbol on the door.

.

.

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People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.

[sadistgalore]

Chapter 12: Burn Together, Friends Forever

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Taglist: @elliei-m

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist.

CW: Heavy dehumanization, pet whump, torture, burning, branding, conditioned whumpee, slapping, verbal abuse, kicking, referenced whump of a minor (nonsexual), implied starvation, Luther is his own warning, boils, impalement, left outside in the cold, implied noncon

Harper’s stomach dropped as soon as she heard the bastard’s voice, and heard a hard whimper behind her.

“Naughty, naughty girl, Harper. I don’t think your master would approve.”

Harper huffed. “You lied. You said you had a dog, not a human!”

Luther glared. “What’s the difference?”

“The difference? You people are fucking impossible!”

“I would watch your attitude, kitty. You’re just making this worse for yourself.”

“H-Ha-Harper,” said a voice behind her. The girl turned around, seeing Killian look up with tears in his eyes, trembling. “D-D-Don’t m-m-make h-“

“Doggy.” A voice cut him off. “That sounds an awful like talking to me.”

Killian lowered back down. Harper noticed this, and her police instincts kicked in once again. “Stop talking to him like that. You’re mad? Then take your anger out at me, you’ve hurt him enough.”

Luther smirked. “Fine, kitty. Come here.”

Harper looked once more to the shaking boy, then followed the orders given. Luther went across the room, looking towards the wall lined with Dark’s torture devices. He finally picked a long metal cord with a wire attached to it, and plugged said wire into the wall.

“I don’t know why Edward insisted on picking a defiant one like you, there’s so many other trained pets with black hair he can just buy for a few hundred bucks,” he muttered, beginning to loop the cord around her right arm.

“Sorry that me trying to preserve my dignity is a problem for you,” she spat.

Luther chuckled, hand moving to a button attached to the cord. “We’ll see about that,” he finished as he pushed the button.

At first, Harper didn’t feel anything, but soon felt a warm sensation after thirty seconds or so. That sensation only kept growing into a burning pain. She gasped, soon realizing what Luther was intending to do, and began trying to pull it off.

Luther grabbed her hand, “Bad kitty. You better stay still unless you want Doggy to have this looped around his throat.”

Harper looked up, eyes beginning to form tears, and put her hand down. She soon screamed as the heat only increased, the hot metal burning into her arm.

“Ruff!”

“No, doggy. Your punishment is later.” Luther said without even looking up, admiring the smoke coming from the kitty’s arm.

“S-stop, please! I’m begging you!” Harper screamed, beginning to grow nauseous as she smelt more and more of her burnt flesh.

“Just another minute,” Luther hummed, causing Harper to yell in frustration.

That minute felt like hours, during which the pain became too unbearable and she fell to the floor. She writhed on the ground, other hand burning as she tried to pry the clip off to no avail. Luther bent down, ignoring her defiance, and pushed the button on the wire.

“Such a crybaby,” he said as he walked towards his shackled dog.

Killian began whimpering loudly, crying out as Luther began to unshackle his wrists.

“You’re a very bad doggy, you know that?” Luther said as he cupped his face, feeling the tears streaming down his pet’s eyes. “How are you going to make it up to me?”

“B-bark-“ Slap.

“Stupid mutt. Use your words.”

“I-I’ll,” Killian started, not quite sure how exactly he was going to make it up to his captor. “I’ll be a b-bet-ter dog-“ Slap.

“Well you’re pretty fucking terrible at that, aren’t you?!” The man yelled, making Killian flinch back. “Answer me! Aren’t you a bad dog?”

“Yes sir-“ Instead of a slap, Luther punched Killian hard in the face. He got up, beginning to kick him to each word he spoke. “Stupid. Fucking. Dog! Why are you using your words?!”

“I don’t know what you want from me!” The young man screamed, Luther seeing a defiance in his eyes that he hadn’t seen since he was 17. Killian soon snapped back to reality, cringing at the cruel smile of his captor.

“No, no, I’m sorry. Please, I didn’t- ruff! Ruff, ruff, bark, woof!-“

Luther grabbed his hair and began to drag him upstairs. He stopped as he passed the girl on the floor, the coil around her arm now turning into a dull red instead of the fiery orange. “I’ll be back kitty. Once I’m back, I expect you to have dinner prepared for me only. Neither you or the doggy are getting food for a while.”

He didn’t stop to hear the choked gasps of the kitty as he walked upstairs, ripping the poor boy’s scalp as he continued to be dragged. Once they reached the kitchen, Luther threw the dog on the ground and stepped on his neck to prevent him from escaping.

The man grabbed a pot and filled it with water, setting the gas stove burner to high as he waited for it to boil. The boy was crying openly, not bothering to whimper or whine as he saw the rare aggression in his captor’s face.

“Oh, Killian,” Luther sighed as he leaned against the counter, foot still pressing on the dog’s neck. “You were doing so well, I thought I finally broke you.” Killian’s cries filled the room. “Still, you’re too incompetent to follow the rules.”

After a few minutes of more sobbing and the man’s silence, the water finally stopped boiling.

“You need to learn, pup,” Luther said as he grabbed the pot handle with a towel. “The only one who can give anything in this world,” he dumped the pot on the boy, ears straining at the blood-curdling scream that came with it.

“Is me.”

____________

“Wonderful dinner, kitty,” Luther complimented as he finished the last few bites of his steak.

The girl said nothing, completely exhausted from trying to ignore the unbearable pain on her arm and using what little energy she had to cook a meal for the bastard.

She can’t imagine what Killian must be going through, though.

The said boy was still on the kitchen floor, screams long since stopped and have resorted to painful crying. His face was an angry red, only a few boils on his face since he covered most of the splash with his arms. But those were scaly and irritated, raw skin being exposed. Harper had mentioned giving him some medicine, but one angry look from Luther was enough to shut her up.

Luther stood up from the table, and snapped his fingers. Harper moved hesitantly towards him, Killian didn’t. “Your punishment isn’t over. Since you two want to bond so much, you can bond in the cold outside. And no meals for three days. Clear?”

Harper nodded, dreading the thought of being chained up outside into the freezing cold.

Luther gripped her chin. “I said, are we clear?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

Luther said nothing as he walked towards a drawer, pulling out chains that had very thick cuffs attached to the ends. He tightly gripped her burned out, smiling as she screamed in pain. He dragged her outside and pushed her to the ground outside the porch, connecting the cuff to her ankle and linking it to the wall. He left, and came out with Killian who was also crying out in pain. He did the same procedure with him, and then flipped a switch on each of their ankle cuffs.

Harper flinched as she felt spikes just grazing her skin, regretting that as they seemed to break contact and draw blood.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Luther smirked, seeing the girl’s face in pain. They are spikes embedded into those cuffs; the more you struggle, the more they get into your skin. So you don’t try to run away, of course.”

Harper resisted the urge to roll her eyes and looked towards Killian, who was now crying again.

“I hope you learned your lesson today, kitty. I’ll be sure to tell Edward about this.”

“You branded my fucking arm,” Harper growled. “Dark said not to scar me.”

Luther gave the girl a cold glare. “You’re gonna learn, like all of his other pets did, that I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want with you despite if your master likes it or not. I’m sure you’ll see that in the nights we’re going to spend together, kitty.”

With that, the man walked back inside, content that his new playthings wouldn’t try running away.

Harper tested Luther’s claims by doing little movements with her ankle, but the spikes only dug into her skin more.

“Shit,” she whispered as she slumped against the porch behind her. “We’re gonna be impaled even if we moved an inch.”

Killian whimpered, but remained still as he curled up against the porch wall. Harper looked over to him, seeing spike-like scars on his wrists and ankles. “This isn’t the first time he put these damn cuffs on you, isn’t it?”

The boy shook his head.

Harper looked at him with a sorrowful look; she spent mere hours with this man, how long had Killian been with him? “Hey, we’re gonna be okay, alright?” Harper started, gently placing her arm on his non burnt shoulder. “I’m a police detective for Washington, D.C. My friend has been investigating this group for years, a rescue will come for me soon.” She said it more to herself than to Killian. “I promise.”

Killian listened to her words, but couldn’t get himself to believe her. He might have been a street rat, but he’s been missing for seven years. He’s met other pets like her, with reputations and hopes of being rescued. But he’s also met other masters, ones that have too good of a reputation to ever be met with repercussions for what they’ve done to their pets, like Luther.

But Harper was nice, nicer than most people he’s met in almost a decade of hell. Maybe the cycle will change. Maybe his torment will finally end.

He looked up at her, and smiled, and was met with a warm smile back. He nuzzled into her, and closed his eyes when he felt her arm wrapping around his back and running it gently. Together, they could try their best to remain warm.

Harper rested her head on Killian’s, and yawned as she prepared for an uncomfortable and cold night of sleep. “One day, Kill-”

Killian groaned. Harper chuckled nervously. “Sorry, I like giving people nicknames. ‘Kill’s’ not a good one?”

The boy shook his head, Harper thought some more.

“How about Ian?” She got a head nod in affirmation.

“Okay, Ian, one day we’ll get out of here together. From now on, I’m gonna do whatever I can to protect you, alright?”

There was silence for a moment, just their steady breaths filling the space, then a very silent,

“Alright.”

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Killing Cure (Part 4)

Bela cocks her head and furrows her brows; mother is so small now. So feeble. She reaches out and takes mother’s hand if only to see how it feels to do so. Alcina sits still and somewhat stiff but she doesn’t protest the gesture.

Mother's hand is very small too and her claws are missing. Bela strokes the back of her hand. Her skin, particularly around her fingers has grown strangely dark and when Bela reaches her wrist she notices that it has gone red and scaly.

Mother flinches when Bela touches the rough red patches. Bela flinches too, she has hurt mother. Mother is so delicate. "I'm sorry, mother." Her lower lip quivers.

"It's alright dear, you didn't know. Anyways, it's just a rash."

"A rash?" Cassandra asks.

Mother nods. "Just a rash."

"Itchy sometimes painful pink or red patches of skin. Can be caused by many things like allergies, harsh chemicals, poisonous plants…" Ethan prattles. "Sometimes I think that they just happen for no reason, I once had this really bad rash on my…" he catchws a glimpse of mother's face, "nevermind. They usually go away pretty quickly unless it's an allergic reaction."

"Or porphyria." Mother adds flatly.

This comment causes the human to flinch and rub the back of his head.

"What is that? What does it mean?" Cassandra asks.

Mother only shakes her head, seeming to fall deeper into her dismay. Finally she replies, "it means that I cant protect you girls any longer."

Daniela goes ridged at this. Bela only nods. She hadn't needed mother's confirmation to know this. So far, mother hasn't stood up on her own--for more that a few minutes anyhow--since shrinking. She is under the blankets shivering, with pain or with chill, Bela can't distinguish.

Cassandra sits upon the bed next to her and pulls her into her arms. How strange it is to see mother being held instead of doing the holding.

Bela finds herself sitting on mother's other side. Stranger than seeing her mother being held, is actually holding her. It is one thing to see her so small and another to feel it. To feel mother's head resting upon her shoulder. To feel mother's body lean into hers without toppling the both of them.

Mother is weaker but mother is still comforting; she is soft. Very soft and very warm. Bela can still nuzzle her head against mother and feel safe.

Daniela reaches out to stoke her hair or brush a hand against her cheeks. And mother seems to be falling asleep again.

.oOo.

Eathan grimances to himself. They fully grown and yet they are like little children, lost and confused and terrified.

He can't help but wonder upon what would have happened if he had killed Lady Dimitrescu on the spot. How absolute terrified those three little fly beasts would be. He imagines them wide eyed and trembling just as violently as their mother is now.

He imagines his Rose shaking and terrified at his death...

He runs his hands over his face. He wishes that he could put an end to his empathy, it is going to get him killed.

And yet he has an overkill of the stuff; porphyria…he can't say that he has heard the term until now but it sounds dehabilitating. It looks dehabilitating. Perhaps he shouldn't force her to come with him after all, in this state she would only hold him back anyhow.

"Winters, I am thirsty. Fetch me a drink."

No please, likely no thank you either. He really shouldn't do it, he has no reason to. He doesn't have to, Daniela very eagerly hands a cup to the woman. And the woman greedily brings it to her lips. And then comes a look that is in equal parts horror and disgust.

When she lowers the cup he can see blood smears at the corners of her mouth.

"What's wrong, mother?" Bela asks.

"It doesn't taste right." She looks as though she is going to be sick. Whether with stress or disgust, he isn't sure. She leans more heavily against Bela and grips Cassandra's hand tighter. Ethan finds himself wincing again on the woman’s behalf, he can’t say that he knows what it is like for a cherished thing to suddenly become revolting. At the same time it comes as an incomparable relief to know that he won’t have to worry about her monstrous cravings. He tries not to look her in the eye, lest he find himself feeling bad that she can’t make a morsel of another maiden.

.oOo.

It only grows worse as the night wears on; to go with the cramping is a shooting pain in her abdomen and the sensation of pins and needles in her hands and feet. She is exhausted but her ails won’t permit her to sleep. And the pain comes with a sense of anxiety, at least she thinks that that is where the feeling is coming from. Maybe she is simply loaongbher mind.

She rubs her hands over her face, the pins and needles flare. She is alone, so perfectly alone that it is safe to cry. She feels ridiculous for it nonetheless. That’s twice now in under two days. She supposes that it is only befitting for a weak body to come with a weak mind. Though she is beginning to wonder if a it is the other way around; that she had her mind had been weak and she was given a body to match it. She wonders if she was ever strong at all; perhaps Mother Miranda had been feeding her lies all along, petting a dumb dog so that it would easier roll over and take commands.

There comes a particular potent pang and she lets out something between a sigh and a sob as she folds in on herself. And with the stab of pain comes another wave of insecurity--she is already small and she is making herself smaller still by curling herself up like this. She dreads to think of her girls coming upon her in such a state.  

She remains in such a state for some time, perhaps hours fading in and out of awareness. And in the moments where her mind isn't racing it is detached somehow. It comes with a merciful sense that she and her body aren't one. A sense of disconnect and confusion that is somehow familiar. She tries to place where from. She wonders if she is dying.

She isn't sure that it would be so bad to die…

Her head hurts.

.oOo.

"Check on mother." Daniela demands.

Ethan blinks. "Me? You want me to check on her?"

All three of them nod in uniform.

"W-why me!? She hates me." They all hate him and yet they are all asking favors of him.

“Because you’re good at healing.” Bela answers.

“So you can heal mother, right?” Cassandra asks.

Ethan exhales. He supposes that he doesn’t mind getting away from the Dimitrescu daughters for a while. At least their mother isn’t quite as chaotic. “Fine, I’ll check on her.” He gets to his feet and makes his way up the stairs. He knocks upon her door and waits for her to tell him to fuck off in her own posh and polite way.

He receives no answer at all. He considers, for a moment, marching right back downstairs and complaining about how he’d just wasted his time. Instead he forces her door open, he supposes that the worst she can do is chuck another pillow at him. Upon entering the room he finds that she can’t even do that.

She is on the floor, her body twitching and jerking. The only thing that he can think to do is position a pillow under her head to keep it from knocking her head against the floor anymore than it already has. Her entire body spasms all over, he thinks that it only does so for perhaps a minute before it tapers off and her body stills.

He lifts her into his arms and lays her upon the mattress. Her head lolls to the side but he thinks that she is awake, if only dimly so. He pulls the covers over her shoulders. Unsure of what to do next, he paces about the room. Paces until he catches her stirring.

“Did that happen a lot before your mutation?” He asks.

“Often enough…” she mumbles so quietly. “Winters…?”

“What?”

“Will you watch my daughters for me?"

He is well aware that he is openly staring with his mouth slightly agape. He isn’t sure that he has heard the woman correctly. “You want me to what?”

“They’re delicate. They need someone to watch out for them. If you can kill me then you should have no problem protecting them. They like warm rooms…”

“You’re not going to die, stop being dramatic.” But he isn’t so sure. She certainly looks as though she is dying. And with her, his best chance at finding Rose. “I’ll speak with The Duke and see if he has any medications to treat this…”

“Porphyria.” She fills in. “Don’t you think that I’ve tried everything I could?”

“Maybe centuries ago, when you were last human. Treatments are much different now.”

She sighs, he thinks that he sees a tear running down her cheek. “I’m going to die. Just tell me that when I do you will either protect my daughters or kill them swiftly.”  

[ladylynse]

Whirlwind (SQ fic): Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny should’ve expected something like this when he got that phone call.

Chapter 11 [FF | AO3]

Previous | Timeline post

-|-

7:43 PM

The girl—dragon, if Rotwood wasn’t crazy, though McFist wouldn’t put money on that—squirmed in his grip but couldn’t break it. “You don’t have to keep playing these pranks on me,” he said loudly, not missing the side eyes and whispers from the others around them. At least the crowd had thinned; this was the sort of publicity McFist Industries didn’t need.

“I don’t know you! Let me go!”

Smart kid. Unfortunately for her, she’d come to him, not the other way around. Someone must’ve seen her do that, and that same someone would be telling others, and word would spread, protecting him from what would otherwise be a very problematic situation.

“Honey, I know having a stepfather can be an adjustment, but please don’t do this in public. We can talk once we get home, okay?”

“No!” she cried as he pulled first one foot and then the other free of the ice with violent twists. He ignored Rotwood as the man tugged on his first leg in an attempt to free it; McFist was happy to throw Rotwood money if he had anything that might be of use, but this girl was a solid lead on the NYC Ninja. She’d had a Ninja Cold Ball. The Norrisville Ninja left behind a plethora of throwing stars and rings and whatnot, but McFist doubted any ninja just handed out those throwing balls.

He eyed the bulging pocket of her hoodie.

If it was full of what he suspected, maybe the NYC Ninja had handed her all those things.

Assuming the NYC Ninja wasn’t as much of a fool as the Norrisville one could be, for all that McFist couldn’t seem to catch him and keep him, this girl must mean something to him. Be a sister of the Ninja, maybe, instead of a dragon. Rotwood might not have things quite straight; the Ninja wouldn’t just hand out weapons to little girls willy-nilly.

The girl opened her mouth to scream.

McFist jerked her towards him, her breath leaving her in the rushed surprise of a squawk instead. He hugged her close, burying her face in his stomach to muffle any subsequent shrieking attempts and holding her there even as she tried to drop to her feet and roll away. “Listen,” he said softly as the crowd began to turn away from them again, “I’m not in the business of hurting kids. I just want a bit of information, and I pay well for it.”

He felt her tense and, against what might be his better judgement, he pulled back and dropped down to her level. He kept a firm grip on her as he pulled out a wad of cash with his free hand. “I mean it. You tell me where you got that Ninja Cold Ball, and this is all yours.”

Defiance had replaced fear on her face, but her dark eyes betrayed nothing and stayed fixed on his own, even when Rotwood managed to get his first foot free with a grunt.

“Don’t listen to her lies,” Rotwood puffed as he strained to pull his second foot out of the ice. “The dragons, they have all sorts of gadgets and magics. It was probably not this Ninja Cold Ball at all!”

This time, the girl glanced at him, and when she turned back to McFist, she was chewing her bottom lip. Then she said, “I got it from a ninja.” One hand snaked out to grab his money, but he kept hold of it even as she tried to tug it free.

“Where?”

She stopped pulling and considered him for a second, cocking her head, and then she said, “I can show you.”

Show him, not tell him. That was more promising. Might not be an outright lie, and he could hold his own in a fight if it turned into an ambush. If it was a wild goose chase, then he had her, so he’d still be farther ahead than he was now. He let her go and then peeled away half the bills in his hand, giving her some and pocketing the rest. “Show us both now and you’ll get the rest—plus a nice bonus if you can tell us anything else. And even more if you hand over the rest of your stash.”

She frowned at him but made no denials. “I don’t want him to come,” she said, pointing to Rotwood. He slipped at that moment, cursing quietly, and McFist winced. He couldn’t really blame her, but assuming Rotwood had any marbles left, he might be able to come up with something useful on the Ninja front, and Viceroy could use some more ideas when it came to WNDs in case the Robo-Dragon went the way of the Robo-Dog. If it didn’t, though, and he got it finished fast enough for McFist to test it out on this NYC Ninja? Viceroy would be getting a bonus he didn’t have to argue for.

“Too bad. He’s coming.”

“I don’t have to show you.”

Attitude. Bravado. But she didn’t strike him as a street kid or even a recent runaway, so McFist didn’t mind taking the chance of calling her bluff. “He comes or I just take you over to the police and let you show them all the weapons you’ve got tucked away.”

The widened eyes and sharp intake of breath seemed to come at the same time, but she didn’t run away like he’d thought she’d might.

Instead, her eyes darted skyward, but before he could find what she’d been looking at, she said, “Fine. But he catches up. I’m not waiting for him.”

McFist rolled his eyes and reached over to smash the ice around Rotwood’s stuck foot with his mechanical hand.

“Why did you not do that earlier?” Rotwood cried, but he was getting easier to ignore; the girl was letting her fear get to her, since the flash of it she’d let him see looked real enough, and that demanded more of McFist’s attention at the moment. He could work with that.

McFist held out his hand—his left, thinking she might shy away from his right, and he could hold her easily enough either way. She frowned at him but took it, shooting another nervous glance at Rotwood. He wondered if she was wary of him because she actually knew him or if she simply thought he had a few screws loose. Honestly, he wouldn’t fault her either way. Just because McFist thought the man was useful, didn’t mean he thought Rotwood was the sharpest tack in the box.

“Lead on,” McFist said to the girl. Over his shoulder, he added, “Ninjas do that kind of thing all the time. Thought you could use the practical experience.”

“Practical experience?” spluttered Rotwood as he stalked up to them. With his longer strides, it didn’t take him long to catch up. “You are ignoring my very practical experience with dragons and letting that one lead you right into her nest.”

“Didn’t think dragons had nests.”

“Trap.” Rotwood’s voice was clipped. “I mean a trap. Perhaps I should not have been so quick to offer my services to you, if you do not value my expertise.”

“I’ll value it once you prove it,” McFist returned. “You know full well that I can uphold my end of the bargain, but I don’t know that you can do the same.”

The girl’s pace quickened, but she said nothing.

She was listening, though. If Rotwood was remotely right about her, then she had the potential to be dangerous. Somehow. It was hard to think of a cute little kid as dangerous, though. Or as a dragon. Her hand didn’t feel remotely scaly, but then again, Viceroy was convinced the 800-odd year old Norrisville Ninja was a current high school student, so McFist was willing to give Rotwood the benefit of the doubt.

He was not willing to give up a clear lead to the NYC Ninja before Rotwood had proven himself, however.

That would just be foolish.

“She is leading us away from the crowd!” hissed Rotwood. “If she wants us away from here, should we not ask what she’s trying to keep from us?”

“Ninja wouldn’t stick around in a crowd like this,” McFist said as Rotwood started to grumble. “Not if he’s smart.”

The girl kept walking, rarely tugging on his arm except to steer him. She didn’t try to slow. She didn’t try to bolt.

She might be trying to lead them away from something, but McFist hadn’t seen anything, and from what he’d heard from the NYC Ninja, the guy was as quiet as the Norrisville Ninja was. Which is to say, not at all.

If they were leaving the Ninja behind, he wasn’t fighting anyone or they’d hear it.

Still, once they were through the bulk of the crowd and weren’t passing within five feet of someone anymore, McFist said, “Why don’t you tell me how you ran into the Ninja?”

She rolled her shoulders in what might’ve been a shrug and mumbled, “He fought the dragon, didn’t he?”

He had, but she could just as easily have overheard that.

It didn’t explain why she’d singled him out.

Come to that, none of it explained why she’d singled him out.

Judging by how she’d recoiled from Rotwood, it hadn’t been him, even if Rotwood was right and they knew each other.

“Why me?”

This time, she slowed and glanced back at him. “What?”

“Why pick me?” He pulled her to a stop, looked pointedly towards his prosthetic arm, and added, “I’m not the guy singled out as harmless. So why, out of everyone in the crowd you could’ve come to, did you pick me?”

She dropped his hand and chewed her lip again.

“He told you to, didn’t he? The Ninja? That’s why he gave you the weapons? So you could bait me? Or pretend to be him if that didn’t work?”

“The dragon must be back there,” Rotwood declared. “That’s why she wanted us to leave. We have to go back!”

“No!” she cried, and McFist knew that whatever the truth, Rotwood was right in thinking she’d wanted them gone. “I just…. I…. Rotwood, please.”

McFist turned to Rotwood. The man was wearing a manic grin. “You admit it then, yes? That I am right about everything?”

“No,” she said, and his face fell into a frown. “You don’t know the half of it. That dragon isn’t a dragon.”

McFist blinked and tried to figure out what she wasn’t saying, but it was worse than some of the things Viceroy came out with.

Rotwood moved so he could loom over the girl. At least, that’s what McFist thought he was trying to do. The man didn’t do looming particularly well. It looked awkward. His chest was puffed out too much, especially when coupled with the odd angle he had to tilt his head to peer down at her through his glasses. McFist was pretty sure he could do a better job than that. Viceroy certainly could if he put his mind to it, but McFist figured Mad Scientist University might’ve had a class in that kind of thing, so it didn’t really count.

“It’s Professor Rotwood,” he said. “And if you do not want me to tell the world everything I know, then you should tell me everything you know. That is a fair trade, yes?”

-|-

7:43 PM

Randy was yelling something again, and Adrien wished he would stop. Randy might be used to fighting people who were too consumed with one thing or another to think straight, but Adrien knew exactly how smart akumatized people were, and—

“Get behind me!” Adrien screamed, reaching out to drag Randy into that position when the other teen didn’t obey quickly enough. Randy squawked in surprise, but Adrien was already spinning his staff to dissipate the streak of fire. His staff was clipped by the dragon’s talons a second later and sent flying; he hadn’t managed to pull back enough, even if he’d prevented it from being taken into her clutches entirely. By some miracle that never seemed to occur around Ladybug, his staff didn’t spin off the roof or otherwise wind up terribly far away. He’d be able to get it later, if he could just loop around those air conditioning units and—

“I think you need another Ninja Hydro Hand!” Randy shouted, rolling out from behind his meagre cover. A fist of water caught Susan’s tail a second later. It barely slowed her down, most of it crashing onto the roof and making Adrien hope Randy didn’t try pulling out of one those electrifying balls. Was Susan faster than before? Randy wasn’t slower, so—

Susan roared, her lashing tail managing to break free of Randy’s attack and sending some of that water back towards them. Adrien dropped and rolled, as much to get away from the attack which was undoubtedly coming as to avoid getting wet if Randy did pull out some questionable weaponry in the next breath. It’s not that he begrudged the help; he needed help right now. He just…. Randy wasn’t Ladybug. A fight and a half didn’t tell him enough about Randy’s fighting style to be able to anticipate his attacks and see how well he coordinated those attacks with those who were helping him, even if they were only acting as distractions.

Of course, that might be because Adrien had no idea if Randy was used to fighting with a partner.

Well.

That was a lie.

If Randy fought with a partner, they had a very poor partnership, unless Randy’s job was to try to keep all the attention on him while his partner went in for the— Not kill, necessarily, not if Randy was used to dealing with a similar sort of situation as Adrien himself, but the final blow. Only, Randy had been more than happy to jump at the opportunity to break the Critic’s pen, and he just didn’t move like he was used to fighting with allies.

He wasn’t a stranger to it, but Adrien was sure it wasn’t the norm.

Randy had also clearly never fought a dragon before, if he thought a bit of ice around Susan’s hind claws from Randy’s latest volley of Ninja Cold Balls would be more than a match for the sheer amount of muscle Susan possessed in this form. Not to mention the fact that she could breathe fire. And, likely as not, had fireproof scales. It had looked that way when Randy had thrown the first fireball, at least, and why wouldn’t a dragon have fireproof hide? It only made sense. Even if dragons usually didn’t, Hawk Moth would happily supply an upgrade to increase his chances of winning.

Adrien kept low, dashing for the air conditioning units on all fours while Susan was distracted by Randy. A Ninja Air Fist met a torrent of dragon fire as Adrien took shelter behind the nearest unit; some of the flames flashed his way, carried by the wind instead of being immediately put out by it. The heat that still rolled over him must have fried the electronics of every unit up here, and the sheer amount of damage they were doing—

Adrien winced as he heard the chain of explosions caused by Randy’s Ninja Boom Balls, even as he used the cover to creep toward his staff.

None of this was going to get repaired.

Not by any miraculous move on Ladybug’s part, at least.

Adrien couldn’t afford to think about that, though.

Useful a distraction as Randy was being, he couldn’t hold Susan off forever. Not alone. But Adrien? Adrien had something she wanted—or, at least, something that Hawk Moth wanted. Randy was doing a phenomenal job of keeping Susan penned where she was, using elemental attacks every time she tried to take to the air, but she’d go through Randy to get to him if she had to. Especially since, at the rate he was using his Ninja Balls and Ninja Throwing Stars and everything else, he’d run out of ammunition sooner rather than later, which might even be Susan’s intent, so that she could focus almost entirely on Adrien. Unless Randy had an unlimited supply of weaponry? Why hadn’t Adrien asked? If he’d been thinking….

But there hadn’t been any more time for questions.

Adrien might not be able to explain Susan’s earlier disappearance, but he could explain her return. He recognized that drive in her, the focus of her attacks. Even if she had more of herself left in her than Hawk Moth’s usual victims, Adrien had seen how people got…twisted. Even if it was subtle, it was there. Desperation turned justification turned for the greater good and it’s only the end result that matters or I’ll do anything in exchange—

She’d still made a bargain with Hawk Moth, dragon blood running through her veins or not, and she’d be bound accordingly.

He just wished he knew for certain why Hawk Moth had come here and what precisely he was looking for; having a clear thing to protect beyond his own Miraculous would give them an advantage. Any concrete information would help. He was operating entirely too much on guesswork, because Hawk Moth wasn’t supposed to be here, he was supposed to be back in Paris where Ladybug could effectively neutralize each akuma—

Susan had too much room to manoeuvre here. They were out of the way of civilians, sure, but she still had the advantage. Neither of them could fly, and Randy didn’t have the added bonus of night vision (to Adrien’s knowledge, at least). Besides, if Randy’s elemental attacks exhausted him—another thing Adrien hadn’t thought to ask earlier—then there really was only so much time that he could be an effective fighter before he would need to recover. Furthermore, Adrien couldn’t risk using Cataclysm except to get out of some kind of non-organic trap—and maybe not even then, if he risked bringing a building down on someone—which meant he was left fighting with his staff. Since his opponent was a dragon, his staff was better suited for defense or getting leverage, especially as said opponent wouldn’t be hurt by a small bit of metal flung at her.

Well.

Maybe not.

He and Randy knew perfectly well that the plan was for Danny to get the necklace away from her (using his quick flight speed and optional tangibility), but she didn’t know that.

Taunt, run, feign, distract.

Adrien smiled as his fingers closed around his staff. Planting it firmly on its base in front of him, he extended it and let it carry him a good ten or so feet above Susan’s current height, which was already about twenty or thirty feet from the rooftop. Fortunately, Randy had been able to hold her at that height, even if his elemental attacks hadn’t been able to push her back down. “Hey, dragon lady,” Adrien called, suddenly realizing he didn’t know what name she’d taken, if she’d taken one at all, “aren’t you a little focused on the wrong hero in the cute black number?”

Sharp eyes turned to him, ignoring Randy entirely. “My name is Dracona,” she hissed.

Dracona.

Not Susan, whatever Jake wanted to think.

Adrien swallowed but kept his thoughts off his face, plastering on a wide grin instead. “Then how about we play a little game of cat and mouse?”

He let the staff become ungrounded. It teetered for a second before slowly tipping as the wind caught him. Dracona snarled and gave her wings another ferocious beat, pushing her further into the air—

—but not pushing away an all-important flash of red as the Ninja’s scarf lashed out to wrap around her neck. Adrien only caught a glimpse as he fell, spinning so he could better spot his landing on the next building over, but he saw Randy’s wild swing bring him up and around Dracona’s neck, landing him squarely on her back at its base.

Adrien couldn’t suppress a grin as Randy let out a whoop of joy, even though it was nearly swallowed in Dracona’s growl.

And then Adrien’s feet touched down on the next roof, his staff already retracting, and he began to run.

-|-

7:44 PM

“That can’t be a good sound,” Danny whispered to Jake as Jake flew higher, relishing the fact that he didn’t have to take care not to circle over busy areas while Danny was making him invisible.

This was made more important by the fact that Danny was right: it hadn’t been a good sound.

Also, they weren’t the only ones who had noticed Susan’s roars. Jake didn’t need dragon eyes to see the stream of people and vehicles below, flooding away from the gala and towards the danger. Some of those vans below had to be various news stations, which meant the moment Danny left him to play jewellery thief, it was entirely too likely that two dragons would be caught on tape.

The Dragon Council would definitely take his powers away for this. And maybe not just his, if they figured Gramps or Fu or someone should’ve stepped in before he let the situation get this far. That wouldn’t be fair, but they didn’t always care about fair.

They hadn’t listened when it came to removing Chang from the council, despite the fact that Jake knew G had been pushing for it. Why would they listen when he tried to tell them that everything that had happened here wasn’t anyone else’s fault?

“We just need to move fast, yo,” Jake said. He kept his voice at a normal volume despite the wind—Danny might not have sensitive dragon ears, but he did have one of his ears pressed against Jake’s neck—and hoped that if it was loud enough for Susan to overhear them, even from this distance, she’d be too busy to pay attention.

Truth was, if her ears were sensitive enough to pick up their conversation, they were also sensitive enough to pick out the sound of Jake’s wingbeats, even above the noise rising from the streets below.

They could see the fight now. It was dead easy to trace its path; concrete still scorched, after all, and lots of places were doused in water. Not to mention, Randy wasn’t exactly stopping long enough to pick up any of his thrown weapons, even the ones that weren’t too bent to reuse. Light pollution meant the night sky wasn’t completely dark, either, and it was easier than Jake would like to pick out the spinning silhouette of his mother against the golden glow of gathering clouds.

And, apparently, Jake wasn’t the only one with a passenger clinging to his neck.

The passenger was Randy, judging by the leaps the other shadow was making with the assist of a pole. Randy must be holding on for all he was worth, as Susan was doing everything in her power to shake him loose. Randy would be far too close to her necklace for comfort if she was going to do everything she could to protect it, and—

He’d be fine. He could hang on long enough for them to get there and help, even though Jake wasn’t flying as fast as he could since Danny clearly wanted to say his bit before they got there.

“What’s more important?” Danny asked as Jake climbed, intending to wheel closer from above and hopefully stay unnoticed. “Keeping the existence of dragons secret from the non-magical world or beating this Hawk Moth guy?”

Jake didn’t bother to hide his snort. “Both. I’m gonna save my mom.”

“Yeah, but….” Danny hesitated. “Saving your mom just means winning this battle. And Hawk Moth is in her head if she’s fighting the good guys. You know that. Which means you don’t know what she’s gonna do when she sees you.”

“I’m not sitting this out. You know that.”

“Weren’t you told you’d need the help of your friends to do this?”

“Yeah, help. That doesn’t mean I have to take a back seat while you guys do all the work.”

“Doesn’t mean you need to stay in dragon form, either, if having more than one dragon on the scene gets dicey when it comes to pretending the magical world doesn’t exist.”

“Say what?”

“The thing Randy’s book told him. To cleanse the soul, one must first clear the mind. You can do that just as well as a human, and then you won’t let this Hawk Moth guy know that dragons are real. If he hasn’t already guessed it, I mean. It didn’t sound like he could just pick knowledge out of people’s brains, so your mom might’ve been able to keep that under wraps.”

Jake spread his wings to catch an updraft, even though he’d slowly been circling downwards. “He has a Miraculous. If we know about them, there’s no way they don’t know about us. Not when they know how to keep off our radar.”

“Doesn’t mean that guy specifically knows about you, or how much influence dragons have on the magical world, or anything else like that. I mean. Look. I can try to overshadow your mom instead of just grabbing the necklace and flying away. I don’t know if she can throw me out, but it’ll buy us some time, and it would shake her up enough for you to talk to her. And that might draw out Hawk Moth. He’s obviously connected with her somehow. But if you’re dragoned up when he crawls out of wherever he’s hiding, we can’t even pretend all this dragon stuff was his magic. So if you st—” Danny broke off.

He’d seen what Jake had seen.

The dragon ahead of them had shifted mid-flight, her form shrinking back to the all-too-familiar silhouette of Jake’s mother.

Jake tracked the falling figures with his eyes as he sped towards them, and he wasn’t surprised when Danny left him and flew ahead. He was the faster flyer; he’d get there first. That knowledge did nothing for the sudden terror in Jake’s stomach, though. The two were falling together, maybe still tangled in Randy’s scarf. He couldn’t see any butterfly, and maybe there wasn’t one, since Nino was diving towards them, trying to catch them before—

A flash of blue fire lit the sky, and the dragon surged upwards again, catching Nino in her talons.

Jake reached the scene a precious second after Randy’s wild descent had halted, and Danny flickered back into visibility as he rose to meet Jake.

“She ruined my scarf,” Randy complained, gesturing at the tattered red cloth. “If her magic messes up my suit magic and it doesn’t fix itself, you owe me for that, too.”

Jake just stared at him, wondering how he could even think about something like that right now.

Whether or not Randy could accurately read dragon expressions, he could certainly read the look on Danny’s face. “What? I think Nino planned this. He had that planning look on his face, right before he fell and started the chase again.”

Instead of telling Randy he wouldn’t know Nino well enough to recognize a planning look on his face, Jake glanced below. The sight of the people beginning to gather was enough to pull a growl from his throat. He winged quickly to the rooftops, Danny following with Randy. “Climb on,” he said, crouching down so Randy could clamber up. “If he’s changing his own plan on us, we’re not going to be left behind.”

Randy swung up with ease even as Danny said, “You know plans never work out like they’re supposed to.”

Sure, but that didn’t mean Jake had to like this one. If this really was the plan, it was entirely too self-sacrificial. More likely, it had been a mistake, and Randy just didn’t want to admit that to himself. A mistake like this was bad.

Granted, a mistake like this was also par for the course.

“Let’s just hit her hard and fast when we catch up,” Jake said as he took to the air again. Danny moved to fly beside him, reaching out to keep a steady hand on Jake’s neck. Invisibility really was handy. “She’s got the Miraculous of the Black Cat, which Hawk Moth wants. She’ll lead us to him, and then we can take them both down.” He glanced in Danny’s direction. “Um, after we save Nino.”

“You want me to get him out of there before I try anything else? Overshadowing included?”

“What’s overshadowing?”

“One of Danny’s many fun tricks,” Jake deadpanned. “And, yeah, you’d better. I don’t think Nino would appreciate it if we tried to wait for an opportune moment and his identity got compromised because something went wrong first.”

“You don’t think he’d rather we took out Hawk Moth?”

“I think I’d rather give up one of our identities than his.”

“I mean, if someone has to, I can,” Randy said. “He won’t know me. Nobody knows me. I’m not anyone important and, well, it won’t matter in a few years anyway.”

Jake tried to parse Randy’s meaning and briefly wondered if he had time to ask what that meant when Danny said, “You weren’t thinking of me or Randy, were you? You plan to reveal yourself. You’re really fine with Hawk Moth knowing you’re a dragon?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

Knowing Danny, he was going to protest that, but Randy cut him off before he had the chance, saying, “I don’t see her. I think we lost them.”

It was an obvious change in topic, but Jake took it for the lifeline it was. He spread his wings further to take advantage of another updraft and wheeled around, listening intently. Ear of the Dragon was good for more than just eavesdropping, and— There. Wingbeats. He was right. He picked up the pace, Danny easily matching him. “It doesn’t matter. We know where she’s going.”

“We do?”

“Yeah. Fu updated me on the dragon sightings earlier, but it didn’t click until now. If she was fighting this, then she was running away from Hawk Moth. Then she came back to him and found us. Meaning we were near him, even if we didn’t know it.”

“And you can see or hear her, right?” Danny asked. “So you know she wasn’t just on her way past us to the other side of the city or something?”

“Right. She might be a dragon now, but I’ve been a dragon for longer. My knowledge is practical, not theoretical.”

“I still have it best as dragon rider,” Randy crowed, letting out a whoop. “This is the cheese! Can you go any faster?”

He was fighting the wind now, so going faster without using the air currents to his advantage would mean tiring faster, not to mention giving up all remaining semblance of discreetness, but— “Race you back to the gala?” he asked Danny.

Danny dropped his hand, returning them both to visibility as he flashed a grin at Jake. “You’re on!” he called, speeding ahead, and Jake caught a brief glimpse of Danny’s ghostly tail before he vanished from view entirely.

(next)

[bepp-ers]

A tale of red and blue | S. Todoroki X Reader X K. Bakugo [Pt 1]

Fantasy AU! Part One:

You gulped. Today, you were meeting a rather important prince. Being a princess yourself, you had met all sorts of fancy nobility, but this one was particularly important. You sat in the carriage seat feeling nervous.

The Kingdom of Dragons, which had been known to keep to themselves mostly, had opened an invite to you and your mother to visit. There would also be the neighbouring Todoroki Kingdom there, plus a few other nobles, but that wasn’t your concern right about now.

“Now, [Name], what are we going to do again?” “Be as ladylike as possible, and make good impressions.” You groaned, pulling at the corset around your waist. Those things were tight! “[Name], stop! You need to look presentable.” 

Your mother readjusted your corset, and you suppressed a cough. ‘Please, just let me stay in bed.’

Eventually, the carriage rolled to a stop and your mother and then you were helped out by servants. What stood before you was in incredibly large and ornate castle, looking unlike anything you’d ever seen.

“Well, hurry up Y/n!” Your mother called, and you scurried after her. She was very business-oriented, and loving but strict sometime. A fleet of knights escorted you two inside the palace, where you arrived in the large throne room.

A queen and a prince sat on imposing blood red thrones, and at once the queen stood to greet your mother. “[Mother’s name], good to see you again.” She descended the crimson steps and embraced my mother, who seemed very happy to see her too.

She pulled away and peered at you with sanguine orbs.

“And [Name], it’s wonderful to meet you dear. Katsuki!” She patted you on the head and then turned to her son.

“You can show [Name] to her quarters, I must catch up with [Mother’s name].” The ash-blond looked over to you, and glared. Much to his surprise, you simply grinned at him. 

“Don’t think for a minute that we’re friends, Princess.” He spat as you followed him down a corridor lit by torches in their sconces.  “Oh. Alright then, I’m [Name], anyways.” You totally ignored him, much to his confusion.

“I didn’t remember asking, Mizetto.” You tilted your head. “I’m sorry, midget? That’s the best you got?” Whilst it was true that he stood around a head and a half taller than you, was that really necessary?

“Tch. Alright Mizetto, here’s your room.” You sighed. “My name is [Name], but thank you... uh...”

“Bakugo. Remember it.” He stated, and then stalked off with a swish of his red cloak. ‘It looked soft, maybe I should get one.’

After your bags were delivered to your room, you were escorted by a servant to a large banquet hall. Nobles were trickling in from the other door as well, so you walked up to your assigned seat.

Besides you was a rather attractive prince in a blue and white tunic, looking very refined as he idly stared at the carvings in the table.

“Hi there.” Since you had nothing better to do, you decided to try talking to him. Hopefully it would go better than Bakugo. 

“Hello.” He stated in a monotone voice. Great, just what you needed,

“Uh, I’m [L. name] [Name]. May I have your name?” He looked up at you, and when he turned his head to the right to face you, he revealed a dark scar covering his eye.

You knew better than to ask, but you were fascinated to see that his eyes matched his red and white hair- heterochromatic, with a striking teal and a cold grey.

“Todoroki Shouto.” Wow, he really did sound like a robot. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. Call me [Name] though.” You offered him a warm smile, but it didn’t really make his features change.

He nodded idly, and turned back to staring at the table. “Aw man, am I that boring...?” You whispered, not realising you said it aloud.

“No, I’m just not talkative.” His cold voice made you blink in surprise, and then you giggled. “Wow, I said that out loud? Oops.”

“You must have met the Queen and her son, right?” You asked, and he glanced at you, and nodded. “Queen Mitsuki seems friendly, but when I tried talking to Prince Bakugo he called me midget and was pretty rude in general.”

Getting no response, you sighed. “I just wanted to make a friend here so it wasn’t so boring. Oh, food!” You perked up as servants came in, placing plates of the starter, steaming Miso Soup in front of everyone.

You wasted no time saying your prayer and then digging in, though you did notice that the Prince beside you didn’t pray before eating.

You found it amusing, and decided to try and befriend Todoroki. Difficult, sure, but you’d probably manage it. After all, you were you. Easy, right?

☆

The following day, most of the Queens and Kings were having a private tour by Queen Mitsuki, leaving their children behind to explore the castle. 

“Oh, Bakugo, wait up!” Spotting some familiar ash-blond locks, you hurried over much to the distaste of Bakugo.

“The hell do you want, Pocchari?” Ah, so today’s insult was chubby. Harsh. “I will politely ignore that, how are you this morning?” He furrowed his brows, wondering why this cute girl was pestering him again.

“I was good until you showed up. Go find that half n’ half bastard prince!” “You mean Todoroki? I dunno where he is, so I don’t think so. Sorry.” You shrugged.

“Ugh, just shut up if you’re not gonna leave. Your voice is really annoying, Pocchari.” “Thank you, your words humble me.”

You rolled your eyes, but he made no further attempts to talk to you. Must’ve resorted to ignoring you as you walked through the castle.

“So do you guys have real dragons here, or?” He scoffed. “Idiot, this is the dragon kingdom.” You noticed a certain tone of pride in his voice, and something clicked.

‘So if I just stroke his ego a bit, he might like having me around?’ You decided to give it a shot, and placed your hands behind your back with a sigh.

“Wow, that’s so cool! I wish we had dragons, back in [Country]. Where are they?” He turned his head towards her, a grin on his face.

“A Princess like you wouldn’t go near a dragon, so why bother? You’d only get scared.” “Well, you’re a brave prince right? So I won’t be scared.” You ignored the fact that the only things you feared were spiders and your mother, and smiled.

He mulled the though over for a bit, and shrugged. “Fine, but if you get eaten it’s your problem. Come on.” You clapped you hands in excitement and rushed alongside him, excited.

“Okay, we’re here.” He had lead you out into the courtyard, through a gate and into a hidden-garden type area. You barely had time to cover your ears as he began yelling.

“KIRISHIMA! GET OVER HERE!!”

You stepped a little closer to Bakugo and he grinned tauntingly at you. “Scared, Pocchari?”

“Not at all, Bakugo.” You flashed him a sweet smile, but moved closer still at he rustling in the trees.

“Bakugo!” You jumped at least a foot back as a... boy jumped down from the tree?

“I though you said you’d show me a dragon...?” He rolled his eyes, and who you could only assume to be Kirishima approached the two of you.

“Hey, who’s this? Did you get a girlfriend finally?” Bakugo went slightly red and gave the red-head a shove. “Shut up, shitty hair.”

“Yikes! Anyway, I’m Kirishima Eijiro, Bakugo’s closest friend. Pleased to meet you!” He bowed, and you giggled.

“I’m [L. Name] [Name]. Call me [Name], can I call you Kiri?” “Sure. So Bakugo, what did ‘ya want with me today?”

He scoffed. “I didn’t, but Pocchari here wants to see a real dragon.” “Bakugo, she’s a Princess! You can call a Princess, or any girl Pocchari!”

“Deal with it, Shitty hair! My castle, my rules. Now do your thing already!” “Fine, fine. Stand back.” He warnt, and the two stepped backwards a few metres. You didn’t miss the arm he extended in front of you, though.

After a warm flash of light, Kirishima had dissapeared and a huge red dragon in his place. “Woah...!” You whispered in awe. “Heh. Impressed?” “Totally! Wow, I don’t know what to say.”

Kirishima lowered his scaly head to meet your gaze, and you stepped forward to pat him. His tail wagged, almost dog like. As a dragon, he was around the size of 4 racehorses, and covered in ruby scales.

That colour, red, it seemed to be everywhere in this kingdom. Not that you particularly minded, your kingdom’s main colour was purple so it was natural it would be everywhere.

“So, now you’ve seen a dragon. Bet you’ve never rode one, though?” You ignored his cocky tone and smirk, and widened your eyes. “Really?”

He leapt onto the dragon with strange grace, and offered you his hand. “The question is Princess, are you brave enough?” “Absolutely.” You took his hand, and he swiftly pulled you in front of him.

“Hold on tight....”

[To be continued..:☆]

[themarvelhorse]

IT'S SUNSET SHIMMER DAY

Dogtag from https://www.mylittleties.com/; badge from https://twitter.com/TJMC_art; and plushie from .... oh fuck I actually don’t know I got it from Bronycon at a booth that sold other stuff too heck here have this maybe they’re in there https://www.equestriadaily.com/2020/09/66-amazing-plushies-for-sunset-shimmer.html

In honour of this day, I'm going to go ahead and put up an introductory post about an off the cuff mini-project I've been doing.

A re-read of @marvelandponder 's fanfic Empathy for the Devil!

Now, a relatively recent post about her writing has made me realize there's so much more to her works than I initially read.

It's really unfair to NOT give such a story the appreciation it deserves. I would have liked to give it a more careful reading on the first go, but things in life deter me from doing so.

As such, I'll take the words of my high school English teacher to heart: "If you read it book, you should read it twice. Once to find out what happens, then the second time with a red pen and an extra copy of the book. Picking it apart is best done when you’re not distracted by how it ends."

Since the second part isn't here yet, I've decided to take the time to do what I have fun with: speculate.

Now, this re-read won't be a super in-depth analysis, but it'll read more like a commentary. Some jokes, some theories, some little, noticeable things. I WILL be jumping back and forth occasionally, based on major events that happen later in this first half, so SPOILERS. Also it’s a bit of a mess, because again, off the cuff, but I also want to enjoy it more than an English paper. I suppose it may read like an Equestria Daily follow-up post, if you’re familiar with that.

Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy, I know I did.

Chapter 1 - With Love, the Royal Family

Wait, she “swore in Equestrian”... does that mean Sunset speaks horse? Does that mean horses have a different language than humans?

Any other context and what I said would sound like utter stupidity

"What on Earth was that?"

I find it funny that Twilight uses that phrase, considering it's very much not from Earth.

It looked like... dragon fire⁠—” Smelt like it, too. The few run-ins she and Princess Celestia had with visitors of the scaly kind left the royal draperies stinking of ash and cinders no matter what material burned. “—but I’ve never heard of dragons who can replace the postal system.”

It makes me wonder what Sunny's experiences with dragons actually were. If she didn't know what Spike was capable of, well, is he unique? Is she aware that Spike goes from dog to dragon? Do her and Celestia's past experiences with dragons have anything to do with Spike's origin? What happened with dragons that caused the royal draperies to burn every time?

I mean, considering Spike's relationship to other dragons, he DOES seem to be unique, maybe a result of being raised by ponies.

Algebra test? Foreshadowing (FS)? I vaguely remember something during the swap.

Took issue with the phrase "evil magic"

HMM... magic itself is not evil, but its use can be. FS?

Sunny describing Twi - “humble, caring, a great listener... stronger than anyone she met” (Adorbs). Maybe you're describing yourself too there Sunny.

CONSPIRACY THEORY - what if... the letter WAS evil? The evil king Sombra they fought, possibly could replicate dragon magic?

Up ahead by the base of the broken horse statue, Applejack emerged from the crowd holding Rarity bridal-style. Applejack looked at her, miffed. “I don’t think this is how firemen are supposed to carry out civilians, Rarity. I could sling ya over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes if you want me to be more accurate.”

“No, no, darling dearest, I’m quite certain this is exactly how it’s done,” Rarity informed her, arms draped around Applejack’s broad shoulders and stealing her stetson for her own.

RARITY WEARING AJ's HAT!

CAN'T BELIEVE I MISSED THAT THE FIRST TIME

RARIJACK LIVES

I like how Flash talks about what's making him smile and THEN mentions the situation at hand. Just one of those things when you want to gush about someone (and how in love you are) but then remember certain social necessities and priorities.

A "fire" of curiosity still remained even though her letter had cooled.

Nice.

Sunset happens to have a pocket knife... nothing wrong with that, it's a useful tool. But well you know, any sort of knife in my high-school is seen as you being a dangerous threat.

"Twilight laughed more at her overexcited friends than anything"

Right, cause she doesn't actually have the same connection to this other Twilight as a friend that her these friends do ;)

“She fainted all the way back into Equestria"

Sounds like a good new saying

CONSPIRACY THEORY - What if she did fall back just now and it's all a dream?

"Sunset lets you give her pet names?" 

Really SunShim, how did it work when the two of you were dating? Did you never get close? Even as part of the charade? How detached is Flash from how much Sunset has really changed? Even Pinkie’s been known to call her SunShim. Are you really part of the group yet, Flash? Or are you just there, supporting from a distance?

"Princess Celestia decided she was worthy..."

Yeah, Twi got the crown, but you got the girl. So who's the REAL winner here? 

Stress, that's what Twi got in reality. YOU got all the same six friends she does PLUS ONE YOU KISS. C'mon Sunny, if I were you, I'd be afraid FOR Twilight. Her (supposed) immortality (since she doesn't look like she's aging) leaving her much more alone than you will be. Twi will still have to taste the bitterness of mortality.

Whether by the sword or the slow decay of time, whoever Twi loves will die. And there will be no comfort for her. No comfort to ease the pain of their passing.

They will come to death. An image of the splendor of princesses of ponies in glory, undimmed before the breaking of the world.

But you, my dear Twilight, you will linger on in darkness and in doubt. As night falling winter has come without a star.

Here you will dwell, bound to your grief, under the fading trees, until all the world has changed and the long years of your life are utterly spent, in this Middle-Earth.

Oops

Wrong universe

While she could see some of her more perceptive friends picking up on the small shake to her voice—so cool so cool so cool so—Rainbow Dash barked a hack of a laugh. “Ha! Big news? Try biggest news ever!”

“Yeah!” Sunset agreed gratefully, nodding. Cool news! Tamping down every emotion she didn’t like with a drill-press, she took the opportunity to lay an arm around Pinkie Pie’s shoulder. “And where there’s a coronation…?”

Of course you suggested that to lighten the mood and not distract the others from how your voice was shaking, right?

Right Sunny? Right???

Maybe it was bad, but Sunset was glad for the distraction from her own insecurities

Right.

You know, the mention of 'royal family' has come up a couple of times... the "desk of the royal family"... happy for her. For the whole 'royal family'.

The role Sunset had before with Celestia, might she be considered Royal Family as well? I understand that the letter itself is signed off from “The Royal Family”, but still. Maybe it’s all just a misunderstanding that the Humane 6 (and everyone else there) are her family now, rather than the pony versions she left.

"She was surprised her friends let her wander off on her own after nearly fainting"

Sunny

Dear

Sweetie 

You just said you wished they'd learn about personal space, and you needed to get some air not a couple paragraphs ago.

I'm not afraid you probably did lose your skills in the art of deception, otherwise you probably would've pretended everything was fine a bit better. 

Just a feeling, but you're already showing signs of being a better person than you realize, my dear sweet summer child.

Poor Flash, my boy. He tries his best. 

And hey, SunShim, focus more on the "Don't be so hard on yourself," part of that yeah?

"Sunset's girlfriend could read her better than anyone... "

You mean, read her... like a BOOK? HAH. I knew Twilight liked reading but this is ridiculous *cue the laughtrack*

Skyrocketed nearly high enough to reach the crack in the sky

Nice

And that’s all I got for this chapter! Stay tuned for more to come!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go listen to My Past is Not Today on repeat for the rest of Sunset Shimmer Day.

[wonjaekook]

What the Cat Had to Say

A/N: This wasn’t something I was entirely comfortable with writing because I was never the biggest HP fan (I never finished the books oops) and I was unsure about some of the lore, but hopefully this is an okay take on it ^^ yes, the switching between past and present tense is intentional. Sorry if that makes it a bit difficult to read at times.

21 Tropes: 10. Harry Potter AU + white w/Taeyong

Description: Eight years ago, in your Care of Magical Creatures class, you met Taeyong.

Word Count: 9.6k

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: umm, there’s a pistol mentioned at one point? but there’s no actual violence, near-drowning?

You first met Taeyong in your Care of Magical Creatures class in your third year at Hogwarts. Actually, that’s a little bit of a lie.

You first saw Taeyong on the train to school in your first year. You hadn’t known him at the time, but you saw him through the window of the sliding door into the compartment he was in, sitting alone. Your childhood friend and a Ravenclaw one year older than you, Moon Taeil, pulled you along, taking you to sit with him and some other kids you didn’t know. It wasn’t much of an impression, but you can still remember a lonely boy looking out the window, his head resting on his fist as the forests and hills passed in a blur outside. You were later sorted into Ravenclaw and he into Hufflepuff, so you didn’t see much of him that year anyways.

Your second year, you heard a lot about Taeyong. At the beginning of the year, he was known for excelling in Herbology, but that reputation quickly shifted. As Taeyong likes to call it, second year was his “mean year.” He was still talented with herbs, but nasty rumors spread about him cursing another student who hadn’t re-enrolled that year. People started looking at him differently. You admit that you were influenced by what you heard as well, but it later came out that the people who started the rumors about him did it because his mother is a muggle. But, when people treat you differently, it affects the way you act, too. Taeyong told you he wasn’t proud of the things he said that year. You know he can’t help showing a twinge of the loneliness he remembers feeling when he thinks about those memories. Second year was a cold year for Taeyong.

Third year was when you met Taeyong for the first time. Really met him.

On the first day of class, you were lectured by the professor of your Care of Magical Creatures class for not bringing your textbook to class. Your professor was a hawk-like man, tall and lanky with a crooked nose that looked almost like a beak and he was already terrifying enough on his own without him directly lecturing you. The thing was, he wasn’t what you were most afraid of. You were terrified of your textbook. It was a living, breathing book that could bite off your hand at any moment and you had no idea what to do about it. The best thing you could think to do at the time was lock it in the chest by your bed and pray it didn’t get out. Even with the straps on it secured, you refused to touch it once you got it into that drawer. Your Ravenclaw friends gave you weird looks, as you were usually one of the most studious out of them, and all you could do was wither in shame as your professor lectured you. You remember the incident as if it had just happened yesterday.

“The first day of class and you’re already slacking, Miss L/N? I expected better.” He’s ruthless in his berating and you try to shrink away, as if you could disappear into your robes.

“I…” How do you tell your professor that you’re afraid of the textbook? That’s a pathetic excuse. You know you shouldn’t be afraid of it. You know your professor and classmates would think you a fool if you told them the truth. Luckily enough, your professor doesn’t ask for an explanation, but, to your great misfortune, what he does demand is far worse.

“For your irresponsibility, you will be our first volunteer.” That makes you look up. The rest of the class shuffles on their feet, looking between you and the young dragon a bit deeper into the forest. It’s a small thing, the size of a large dog and probably barely out of infancy, and chained to the ground, but your body freezes when you see it. As if it can smell your fear- which it probably can, now that you think about it- it meets eyes with you, letting out a sort of low trilling sound. Its golden eyes seem to peer into your soul, rendering you motionless.

“I…” You whisper, eyes wide as you maintain eye contact with the beast, “...I can’t.”

“You can’t? You must. Unless,” he pauses, straightening up from where he had bent down slightly to talk down to you, “we have another volunteer?”

A hand shoots up. Whoever it is stands in the back, so you have a hard time seeing, but your classmates murmur as the volunteer weaves through the crowd, emerging at the front, hand still slightly raised. Your professor watches him with sharp eyes.

“Lee Taeyong. You want to take her place?”

You meet eyes with Taeyong for a moment before he looks at your professor. He’s a small, wiry sort of boy with a dark mop of hair that almost falls over his eyes. You might have thought his eyes were scary if it weren’t for the smile that lights them up. “Gladly.”

You don’t know Lee Taeyong. You’re bewildered by the fact that he just volunteered to take your place in an exercise involving a dragon. Does this boy have no fear of his life? Yet, you and the rest of your class watch as your professor orders him to remove the rest of the molting scales from the dragon and he steps forward and does it. The way he moves towards the dragon is almost a dance, with subtle, intricate steps and a little bow. When he reaches the dragon, he completes the task, coming back with a molted dragon scale in hand.

You listen to the way your professor praises Taeyong’s performance with awe before he dismisses the class. Before too long, the grove in the forest empties out and you’re left with just Taeyong. He’s watching the dragon, who is laying down to rest, but your eyes dart back and forth between the two. “How,” you say, careful not to be loud as not to disturb the scaly creature, “how did you do that?”

“Oh, I just read the book.” His own docile beastly textbook is tucked under his arm, barely moving besides the feelers on the edge, and he’s stroking it idly with his free hand. You notice in that moment that his book isn’t even strapped down. “I also practiced a bit during the summer. I had a lot of free time.”

“Thank you,” you say timidly, “for volunteering for me.”

“No problem,” he turns, the smile he gives you outshining the sun in that moment, “I was actually really looking forward to this class. I always wanted to meet a dragon.”

You’re a little mystified by the statement, but you push the feeling aside. “I’m sorry I never introduced myself. I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Taeyong.” He extends his free hand to shake yours, but his eyes follow the way you watch his textbook stir slightly. “Are you afraid of it?”

“What?” You snap out of it, letting go of his hand and meeting his eyes.

“Are you afraid of the textbook? Because it’s… ya know. Alive.”

An embarrassed blush instantly lights your cheeks. “I’m… not…”

His lips part as he understands. “Ooh, you are! That’s why you didn’t bring it today!”

“I’m not afraid of it! I’m just afraid of… well… animals. And that’s...” You shift uncomfortably on your feet, not wanting to look at Taeyong anymore.

“They’re nice as long as you treat them right. The same goes for any other creature. Here,” he says, moving to hold the spine of his book out to you, “it’ll be friendly once you stroke its spine.”

You jump back and your heart beats a little faster when he tries to offer it to you. “No! The way it squirms is just… it’s so… unnatural. I can’t.”

Taeyong’s eyes furrow. “It’s not unnatural, at least not any more unnatural than you and me. You just have to be nice to it. I promise it won’t bite you. Come on.” He demonstrates, stroking a gentle hand down the book’s spine. It makes a quiet purring sound and seems to still even more. He keeps his hands extended to you.

“I can’t do it. Can we just go back? Please?”

“You won’t be able to pass this class if you can’t use your textbook, Y/N.” He says it with such dead seriousness that you freeze. That’s what finally gets you. He watches the expression on your face shift from fear to discomfort to mild panic before you finally shakily sigh.

“...fine.”

He instantly brightens up and has a gentle smile on his face as he extends the book to you. “I won’t let it hurt you. Just stroke its spine.” You slowly, very, very slowly, follow his command, edging forward until your extended hand makes contact with the furry spine of the book. Barely applying any pressure, you run your fingertips down the outside of the book. You’re stiff, but you start to relax a little when it doesn’t make any sudden movements after a moment. The book lets out another low purr at your touch and you slowly retract your hand. Taeyong takes the book back, beaming at you as he tucks it back under his arm. “See? Not so bad, right?”

“I guess not…”

“Let’s go back.” You nod and follow him, falling into step next to him. Dried brush crunches under your feet and sunlight dapples the forest trail as you walk next to him, the distant chirping of birds accompanying your footsteps. After a minute, he turns his head to look at you. “Are you afraid of all animals?”

You make a face, not wanting to admit it, but you figure that he’s only asking to confirm the suspicions he already has. “Yeah. Except Tora.” Taeyong tilts his head, prepared to ask the logical follow-up question, but you speak first. “Tora is my mom’s cat. We’ve had him since I was little, so he’s a member of the family. Mom made me take him to school with me.”

“Ah.” The little sound he makes is so uncharacteristic of the mean Taeyong you had heard whispers of last year that you’re a little confused. Then again, all of the traits he’s shown you in the last while don’t align with what you’ve been told about him. “Magical creatures aren’t mean, you know. You probably just don’t trust them immediately. Do you want my help?”

“Your help?” You frown. You’re almost back to the main school grounds, the forest floor giving way to well-kept grass. “When will I ever need to interact with magical creatures?” From there, you part ways with him, heading to your Divination class.

You sought him out a week later after that when you found yourself frozen in fear again at a phoenix during class.

It took a lot of exposure therapy and time away from studying for other subjects, but Taeyong worked with you. To this day, you’re not exactly friendly with magical creatures, but you can tolerate them and they can usually tolerate you.

At the same time, you learned a lot about your new friend. He was actually quite the soft-hearted boy, with a knack for herbs and animals, and you see hardly any trace of the unpleasant person you had heard about him being during your second year. He had a white owl named Snowball who helped him a lot in his lonely times. He had a Slytherin sister who graduated a few years previous. His father passed away, so he lives with his mother when he’s not at school. He had gentle hands, but he wasn’t afraid to get them dirty sometimes and he wasn’t quite as dedicated in studying as you, preferring to go explore the rest of the castle grounds. You were glad you met Lee Taeyong.

By the middle of third year, you were moving past your fear. You later found out that you couldn’t say the same for Taeyong. You really thought that boy was fearless for how he always volunteered during your Care of Magical Creatures class with even the most dangerous specimens. It wasn’t until the winter that you came face to face with the part of him that he was most afraid of.

Behind Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts is your second favorite class. It helps that your professor is a relatively kindly man, gentle to students and quick to protect them when the time comes. That’s why, even though the concept is scary, you’re not terribly worried about the boggart exercise today. When it’s your turn, an overly large and sharp-clawed lion appears from the closet and, after a moment of mild panic, all it takes is a flick of your wand and the word, “Riddikulus!” before the creature turns into a stuffed version of itself, all fear factor gone.

Then, Taeyong steps up. Though the two of you make a bit of an odd pair, your classmates had gotten used to you studying together and pairing up for activities. Some of your own Ravenclaw friends had befriended him as well, to your delight. But, when Taeyong steps up right after you, you don’t know what to expect. What could the fearless Taeyong that you had befriended have trapped inside?

The boggart morphs into a swirling grey mass of matter for a moment, as if it’s digging deep through his memories and fears, until, finally, it takes a very familiar shape. A quiet murmur goes through the class when, before Taeyong, is another version of himself. This one, instead of a wand, brandishes a pistol, and the look in its eyes is empty, a smear of blood covering its cheek. Its eyes turn towards Taeyong and he, wand stiff in his hand, stumbles back as it points the gun towards him. He falls, landing with his hands supporting his weight behind him.

“Taeyong-” You and the professor warn at the same time, and Taeyong seems to snap out of it, pointing his wand at the creature. The warding spell leaves his lips and a harmless flower pops out of the end of the pistol instead of a bullet as it pulls the trigger. The creature disappears a moment later as Taeyong backs away and another student takes his place, your professor encouraging the rest of the class to continue the activity. You offer him a hand and he takes it, standing and dusting off his robes.

Once the class is dismissed, you try to corner him, but he slips out the door, shouldering past the rest of your classmates. Your eyebrows furrow and you frown, trying to follow him. Despite your efforts, you lose him after a few moments. Luckily enough, you’ve been friends with him long enough that you think you know where he’s going.

You trudge through the snow on the way to the bridge and cross it, shivering as the wind cuts into your robes, before you see him enter the open-aired building where the owls stay just a few moments ahead of you. A minute later, you join him, plopping down on the cold stone floor next to him. Snowflakes dust his hair and robes, dotting it with white. His breath comes out in small clouds and he frowns when he sees you, but doesn’t move away.

“I wanted to be alone,” he huffs out, a larger cloud of foggy breath leaving him. He would never say that if he was feeling fine.

“You’re not okay.” He doesn’t deny it, so you know you’re right. “What happened?” He shakes his head, studying the floor. An owl hoots quietly above your heads. “Taeyong,” you say quietly, reaching for his hands. They’re cold in yours, so you lean down, blowing warm breath onto his fingers and then covering them with your own, trying to trap the heat in. “You’re helping me with what I’m most afraid of. Let me help you.”

He watches your hands for a moment, then his eyes shift up to look at the worried, earnest expression on your face. Finally, he sighs. “You’re right. I guess.” His cheeks are pink with the cold and because, unbeknownst to you, of the way your fingers wrap around his, trying to protect them from the biting winter air. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“That’s okay,” you say, smiling and looking at him with bright eyes, “I’m here for as long as you need.”

That day, in the company of winter winds and owls, Taeyong tells you about his mother, a superstitious woman who, once she found out about magic from his father, took to believing just about every washed up fortuneteller and magician she met. It only got worse once his father passed away and, one day, she took him to a so-called psychic. He hadn’t believed the woman at the time, but a nagging feeling in the back of his head kept him from ever completely disregarding the prophecy she spoke into existence that day. The psychic told him that he would become a killer, someone who takes lives in cold blood, with a glistening pistol in his hand and no fear of god in his soul.

“I know,” Taeyong rasps, swallowing hard, “I know she was just a con artist. That it wasn’t real magic. But, I just… I’m afraid that’s what I’ll become one day.” His confession hangs in the air for a moment, like he’s scared that he’s now speaking his fate into existence. You blink and the feeling is gone.

“Well,” you say, squeezing his hands tighter in yours, “I know for sure that she’s wrong.”

He seems confused, his head instantly snapping up so he can look you in the eyes. All he sees there is confidence and a sort of reassurance that he has been longing to feel for a long time. “You’ve only known me for like four months. How can you say that?”

“Because, you’re Taeyong. You’re the Taeyong who cares about plants and animals and came to the owl sanctuary because you felt bad. You’re the Taeyong who’s helping me get over my fear of animals just because you have that much faith in the good of the world. You’re the Taeyong who cries when you see a bird with a broken wing and tries to go exploring in the Forbidden Forest because you want to meet all the creatures living there. I might not have known you for a long time, but I know that much about you. I don’t think you ever have to worry about becoming that type of person.”

The strong belief you have in your eyes and the way you hold his hands has tears welling up in his eyes. With a smile, you pat his head with one hand, brushing some of the melting snowflakes out of his hair. After a short burst of silent tears on his part, you let go of his hands so he can wipe at his face. “Thanks, Y/N,” he sniffles.

“No problem. But, can we go back inside now? It’s really cold.” Once again, you’re pulling him to his feet. The two of you race back inside together, two figures cloaked in the black of your robes against the glistening white snow.

Thinking back on it, it’s a sweet memory. Perhaps you had feelings for him before you even knew it. It wasn’t long before Taeyong became your closest friend, and you his. It’s strange because, if you just saw him on the street one day, you probably would have been scared of him. But, knowing he’s a gentle Hufflepuff who’s more concerned about taking care of animals than anything else, you know not to be afraid. Even if his eyes and the serious set of his face does make him look a bit intimidating sometimes.

In the last week of your third year, you’re just studying for one of your upcoming exams when Taeyong speaks up from where he’s reading a textbook next to you.

“Y/N,” he says, breaking the silence of the library, “do you want to go on an adventure?”

You try to stay focused on your book, so you keep looking down, but you’re hardly reading the words on the page now that Taeyong is talking to you. “Tae, I’m studying.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. You’ve been studying all day and we have an hour until dinner.” He normally wouldn’t try to drag you away from your studies so easily, so you look up, tilting your head to prompt him to continue. “Johnny showed me the other day. It’ll be cool, so come on.” 

“Johnny Seo? Gryffindor Johnny?” Hearing that the idea came from him, you’re a bit nervous, but, by this point, Taeyong is already standing up, tucking his textbook away, and grabbing onto your arm. You know by now that once he gets excited about something, there’s not much that will distract him from it, so you acquiesce, letting him tug you along.

By this time of year, spring is in full bloom, all the ice is gone from the lake, and it’s a breath of fresh air to be out of the stuffy library and into the courtyard. But, he’s not dragging you to the courtyard. He’s going further, crossing into the friendly side of the forest where your Care of Magical Creatures class is usually held. It’s another minute of wandering, him searching intently for something, before he finally finds what he’s looking for. He cracks a smile and lets go of your arm, approaching what you now realize is a massive, full-grown hippogriff. Your eyes widen in panic. From what you’ve read from your beastly textbook - who you had grown to come to terms with using - hippogriffs are extremely dangerous.

“Taeyong, be careful!” You yell, seeing him approach the creature. His grey and white feathers shine slightly in the spring sunlight and he doesn’t stand up from his resting position, his horse and eagle legs curled under him. He just watches as Taeyong bows and walks towards him. Taeyong extends his hand towards the creature and you pull out your wand, expecting the worst.

However, to your surprise, the creature butts his head into his hand, almost like he’s nuzzling him. “It’s okay,” he says, half-turning towards you and stroking him, “we’re friends.”

“This,” you say, exasperated, “this is what Johnny showed you?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong says, beaming while continuing to stroke the beast, “Johnny said the groundskeeper feeds him sometimes and his name is Greyhoof. Come closer, he’s friendly.”

You shake your head, making a slightly pained expression, before you put away your wand and approach slowly, giving in. The creature watches you do your ceremonial bow and he lowers his head towards you as well. Trying to keep your mild panic bottled up, you finally get close enough that you can extend your hand and run it over the feathers of the creature’s neck. He welcomes the touch, so you relax a bit, continuing to stroke him.

“See? Friendly.” Taeyong looks at you, the smile still glowing on his face. “Now that introductions are taken care of, let’s go.”

“Go?” Your relaxed state turns back to anxiety when your friend pats Greyhoof’s neck and he rises to his feet, causing you to jump back and retract your hand as he towers over both of you. Taeyong quickly and easily climbs onto his back, reaching out to you afterwards. You stare at his hand. “No way are you expecting me to-”

“I told you it’ll be fun. Trust me.”

All reluctance leaves you a minute later when you and Taeyong are soaring over the lake on the back of the hippogriff. Your hands are tight around his waist, the wind blows through your hair, and exhilaration fills you. High up, on the back of a hippogriff, there’s only you and Taeyong. Every person is small below you, a dot of color against the beautiful spring landscape. 

By the end of your third year, Taeyong had taught you what it was like to fly.

For the first time, during the summer between your third and fourth year, you remember missing being at school. You still have all the letters you and Taeyong wrote back and forth to each other during every summer, but one letter stands out particularly in your memory. In July, right around his birthday, Taeyong had written that he wished he could have celebrated it with you and that he missed you. That “I miss you” written in his messy, boyish handwriting made your heart beat too fast and too hard to be normal. It’s then that you realized you had fallen in love with Lee Taeyong.

When you took the train back to Hogwarts on the way to start your fourth year, you were far more awkward than you like to admit. Taeyong told you years later that he felt like he did something wrong or that you didn’t like his hair - something else that had changed over the summer. Somewhere along the few months away from school, Taeyong had started to style his hair and your poor teenage heart could not handle how handsome he looked when you saw him for the first time going back to school.

Other than the fact that Taeyong made your heart to do cartwheels every time you saw him, which was practically every day, fourth year passed by with relative monotony. It was torturous in the fact, though you felt like you were going into cardiac arrest every time he was near, he never even looked at you differently. In all of your fourteen year old wisdom, you tried everything - changing your hairstyle, wearing your robes a bit differently, applying a bit of makeup. Your fellow Ravenclaws looked at you weirdly every time you came back from studying with a defeated look on your face. You even considered using your skill in potions to brew a love potion to make him fall for you back, but you quickly dismissed the idea. You could never have done that Taeyong.

With all that angst, you never told him. You left fourth year still very much infatuated with him and without confessing your own feelings.

Your fifth year, the Triwizard Tournament was held at Hogwarts. The summer was a good opportunity to settle down and prepare for the festivities to come, and you distinctly remember trying to keep Taeyong off of your mind for most of that time. You didn’t write him as much that summer - only sending the occasional letter - for fear of seeming obsessed and giving away your ever-growing feelings. However, as usual, you sat with Taeyong on the train ride to school. In that time, you remember that he was oddly silent. You feared that maybe he had figured you out and felt uncomfortable. Yet, after a week, things had normalized between the two of you again. Taeyong later told you in seventh year that he had thought you hated him because you didn’t write that often that summer and he had developed his own enormous crush on you.

An older Hufflepuff friend of yours and Taeyong’s, Lee Taemin, is chosen to represent your school in the tournament and you spend your time dragging Taeyong along to support him. Despite your senior being from the same house as him, Taeyong seems unenthused. You try to prod the answer out of him, ask why he isn’t excited about the tournament, but he doesn’t give, just tells you it’s nothing. The first event - a dragon trial - Taemin completes with ease, holding up his golden egg victoriously.

The clue tells him that the next trial will have to do with water. Between studying for your own classes, you try to help Taemin. Your strong suit has always been potions - you figure there has to be a potion out there that will help him breathe underwater and, if there isn’t, you could invent one. Taeyong is with Taemin and some of the other male Hufflepuffs when he opens the egg and hears the song that comes from it. When he comes back from it, he seems off, staring out the window when he would usually be busy studying alongside you. You try to ask him questions, but he just gives you vague answers, always looking out towards the lake, his textbooks unopened in front of him. With your building stress about helping Taemin, falling behind in your own school work, and, as you’ve been reminded by one of your professors who takes the steps of teaching your entire house how to dance properly, the impending Yule Ball and your lack of a date, the sight of Taeyong distracted so often makes you snap.

“If you have so much time to be spending looking out the window, the very least you could be doing is helping with Taemin’s trial.” The words come out far more bitterly than anything you’ve ever said to Taeyong. His normally relatively soft, carefree expression turns hard and he stands up.

“I guess I’ll go help, then,” he says, as if he can hardly move his lips at all, and stares at you with a sort of misty look in his eyes. You immediately regret snapping at him.

“Taeyong…” He’s already several paces away when you say his name, quickly disappearing from the library. With immense guilt weighing you down, you quickly pack up and trail after him, trying to see where he went. Towards the lake?

You’re at the end of the hallway leading outside when you see Taeyong, walking straight towards the dock. Confused and concerned, you follow him from a distance. He disappears into the line of trees that lies between the shore and the castle, so you hesitantly follow him. “Taeyong?” You call out to him, wondering if your voice will reach him. You’re barely emerging from the woods when you see Taeyong leaning towards the water. When he doesn’t stop leaning forward, perilously close to pitching over the edge, your heart flutters with worry. Something more has to be wrong, right? You start to run, feet pounding on dirt and rock and then the wood of the dock. “Taeyong!”

Your shout comes just as he falls into the water. You run faster, skidding to a halt by the edge of the pier. A few seconds pass. Then a few more. He doesn’t come up. Without a moment more hesitation than to strip off your heavier robes and shoes, you dive in.

The water is cold and you feel heavy, but you swim down, down, down, for what feels like far too long, until you see Taeyong. There, close to being wrapped in the shadows of the deeper part of the lake, is a mermaid. Her features are a distortion of a human’s, eyes too big and fish-like, skin too grey and scaly, hair made out of what looks more like the plants at the bottom of a lake than normal locks. She holds Taeyong’s face in her hands, singing a beautiful, haunting song that you know muddles your thoughts and is something an ordinary person shouldn’t be hearing. Taeyong floats in place, still, his eyes wide open, hair billowing around him. Your breath strains at your lungs, your heartbeat pounding in your eyes almost drowning out her singing, so you grab onto Taeyong, catching the mermaid’s attention. She screams at you, a horrifying sound that’s like someone dragging a metal fork against a piece of china, and lets go of your friend. You grab for your wand and lift it, casting a protection spell, before casting a spell of speed, launching you and Taeyong to the surface. You both land with wet thumps on the dock, coughing up the bit of water that had managed to enter your lungs. Taeyong heaves himself up onto his elbows, wheezing and gasping painfully as air fills his body once again. Your lungs burn like nothing you’ve ever felt before and the adrenaline rushing through your body eventually subsides, leaving you colder than before. Lying there for a few minutes, both of you work to catch your breaths, the autumn wind cooling your skin even further. Finally, Taeyong speaks.

“There’s merpeople down there,” Taeyong murmurs, half to himself.

“I could have told you that without you trying to drown yourself!” You cry out, tears starting to mix with the lake water covering your face. You try to wipe at your cheeks with your robe sleeves, but they’re soaked through, proving your efforts fruitless. “Why would you do that? What’s wrong with you?”

Taeyong looks confused at your pained expression. “I thought you wanted me to help Taemin?”

“I would rather you stay safe than hurt yourself trying to help him,” you weep, “I was so scared you were going to die.” It takes you a minute to calm your crying, but you eventually stop, sitting there and shivering with your arms wrapped around your legs. Taeyong watches you, a guilty expression on his face. Once you’re done crying, you remember the heavy robes you had stripped off before diving in and crawl over to them, grabbing them and moving closer to Taeyong so you can wrap them around the two of you once you both stand up on shaky legs. “Are you okay, Taeyong?”

“My head has felt weird since I heard the song in Taemin’s egg,” Taeyong mumbles, looking back at the water. “But I think I’m okay now. That mermaid must have enchanted me or something.”

You nod, leaning to pick up your shoes. “I’m sorry for what I said to you. I know it wasn’t right and I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“That’s okay. You still came to save me, after all.” The smile Taeyong gives you is almost enough to make you believe him. The smile falters as he apologizes. “I’m sorry I made you cry.”

“It’s better I’m crying that you’re alive than that you’re dead.” You huddle under your robe with him, tugging him along so you can get back inside and warm up. Taeyong takes your hand in his and you share the tiniest bit of warmth in that touch.

“Will you go to the Yule Ball with me?” Taeyong’s question nearly shocks the life out of you.

“Do you still have lake water in your brain?” You laugh, trying to follow if this is a joke. You really hope it isn’t.

He shakes his head, looking at you with slightly wide eyes. “No, I’m really asking you. Do you want to-” “Yes!” You rush out a bit too quickly, interrupting him. You shy away slightly, looking down at the ground in embarrassment. Your heart beats too fast in your chest and you feel like your body is finally warming up, even though your clothes are still soaked. Taeyong’s hand in yours is particularly warm. “...sorry. Yes, I’ll go to the Yule Ball with you.”

The way he looks at you, showing all his teeth, lips curled upwards, and his eyes scrunching together in happiness, almost makes you forget that the two of you had been practically drowning a few minutes ago.

In the few weeks leading up to the ball, you and Taeyong talk in hushed tones in the library about the occasion, wondering about who is going with who and what music there’ll be. Sometimes, you swear you even catch him looking at you when you’re studying and, before you can meet his eyes, he’s looking away, a slight pink on his cheeks. Once, you ask him about it, but he just avoids the topic, jittering out that it’s cold in there or something. Both of you know that the library never gets that cold.

The night itself comes and when your housemates ask who you’re going with and you only respond by smiling and blushing, they know who it is. You spend the time eagerly getting ready, adjusting your dress over and over again. When you had told your mother about your date to the ball, she had sent you a parcel via owl containing a pretty white pearl necklace, the color that reminds you most of Taeyong and matches your white and grey dress. You follow the other girls as they make their way out of your common room. You had promised Taeyong that you would wait for him on the stairs leading to the Great Hall, so you stand there, hands clasped together in front of you and bouncing on your heels excitedly. You watch as other people link up with their partners and enter the hall, as the champions all take their partners’ arms and walk in to the sound of trumpets and string instruments, as the entranceway empties out save for you.

It’s been an hour. Lee Taeyong has left you waiting for an hour. With each minute that had passed, your shoulders had slumped a little more and the bounce slowly left your body, replaced with the heavy feelings of loneliness and embarrassment. You know that it’s not like Taeyong to ditch you and he had seemed so excited, but…

It seems your crush is one-sided after all.

As you trudge back to your room, you rip the pins out of your hair one by one. How could he? Twenty, thirty minutes might be understandable, but a whole hour? You want to cry. You do cry. Your fellow Ravenclaws call you a crybaby sometimes and you know they’re right, but the indignance that you feel at being called that isn’t enough to overpower the growing pain in your heart. Hot, salty tears slide down your cheeks, surely smudging your makeup. You don’t want to use the lacey sleeves of your dress for fear of ruining the material, so you let the tears slip down your face quietly. At the base of the Ravenclaw Tower, there’s a little room with a balcony, open to the outside air. Despite the winter cold, you find yourself in that room, finally mopping at your tears with the heel of your hand, sitting on a bench and being miserable. The cold feels good against your warm face as you cry. They aren’t loud tears this time, just sniffling and rubbing at your face, but it’s enough to fill the silence. If you hold your breath and listen closely enough, you think you can almost hear the music of the ball drifting over from the other side of the castle.

Then, the door of the room is bursting open with Taeyong behind it. He almost looks more distraught than you do, his bowtie slightly askew on his fine tuxedo and his once-styled hair disheveled. He walks over to you quickly but carefully, standing a few feet away and breathing like he had just run across the entire castle to get here. “Y/N,” he says between heaving breaths, “I’m so sorry.”

You’re so shocked that he’s here that you don’t have the energy to be angry. “I didn’t… I didn’t think you were going to show…” You say, voice nearly a whisper.

“I’m so, so sorry. Taemin lost his cat but he had to be at the ball to do the opening dance and I promised I would find her and it took forever and I’m really, really sorry!” His words fly out of his mouth so fast you almost don’t understand them, staring up at him with wide eyes. He stops talking to take a few more breaths, trying to read your face for your reaction. All you can do is look at him, so he starts speaking again, much more slowly this time. “Do you… still want to go back to the ball?”

You shake your head, not breaking eye contact with him. “I just pulled out all the pins from my hair and I’ve cried half of my makeup off. I probably look like too much of a mess.”

“Here,” he still appears upset, but reaches up, mussing up his hair even more, “now we’re even.”

You can’t help sticking out your bottom lip in a small pout, still sniffling a bit as the ghost of a smile pulls at your lips. “That’s not fair. You’re still too handsome.”

His face drops into a look of surprise at the same time that you realize you had just called him handsome. “Ah, well,” he says, nudging at the ground with his foot, his eyes darting away from you, “you’re always too pretty.” Silence hangs heavy between the two of you as you try not to look at each other, both of you too embarrassed by the situation you’ve put yourselves into. “If you don’t want to go back to the dance,” Taeyong says, finally looking at you at the same time that you look at him, “do you want to dance here?”

He offers you his hand, appearing like a prince out of a fairytale. You take it, a smile finally reaching your face. “I would love to.”

When you take his hand, he helps you to your feet, his hand warm compared to yours, which had been cooled by the winter air. “Oh,” he breathes out, digging into a pocket on the inside of his tuxedo. He pulls out his wand and points it towards the ceiling, whispering a spell you’ve never heard before. A flash of light starts in the wood of his wand before quickly shooting into the air, filling the little room with tiny balls of light that hover near the ceiling and cast pale crystalline light on your faces. You had never entered the Great Hall, so you never saw the pretty decorations in there, but you know this is more than enough. He whispers another spell and the room fills with a soft waltz, an ethereal symphony that fills the space, bouncing off the cold stone walls and making the area feel that much warmer. Tucking away his wand, he places his hand on your waist and smiles. He counts off softly. “One, two, three.”

Your feet glide across the floor in rhythm with Taeyong’s, though he’s definitely better at this than you, and you feel like you’re in your very own world. The light of the hanging orbs fills Taeyong’s eyes and bounces off the material of your dress as it trails slightly with your every step. You can’t stop looking at him, to the point where you almost trip on your feet and mess up the steps of the dance. The cold no longer feels so cold at all.

Eventually, the lights start to dim and the music fades out, leaving you standing there, breathless in the best way, holding onto his hand and shoulder. You see him swallow heavily. A moment later, you’re stepping away from each other, hands floating awkwardly at your sides, unsure what to do with them when you’re not holding each other.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his honest apology displayed clearly on his face, “for making you cry again.”

“I’m sorry for freaking out and crying again.” As you stare at each other, the looks on your faces slowly morph until you’re smiling and giggling. You reach forward, taking his hand in yours and tugging him towards the balcony. “Come on, let’s look outside. It’s really pretty.”

When you reach the railing, you don’t let go of his hand, so he takes it as a sign to step closer to you. He moves closer until your arms are pressed together, some of his warmth transferring from his jacket through the thin lace of your sleeve and to your skin. You look out at the scenery, but you’re really not seeing anything because you can tell Taeyong is looking at you and that’s all you can pay attention to. He swings your interlaced hands back and forth gently and his breath clouds as he speaks. “I really like your dress. It reminds me of Greyhoof.”

The comment takes you so off guard that you let out a little noise of surprise before tilting your head back so you can laugh. “Really?”

He flushes at your reaction, but stills the swinging of your hands and presses his lips together tightly before turning to properly face you and continuing. “What I mean is that you look really nice. You always look really nice. I… I like you a lot.”

Your mouth dries up and butterflies erupt in your heart, sending pleasant shivers tingling through your body. You almost don’t remember to respond to him, too lost in the sensation that is really happening. You feel lighter than air, flying, but heavy and tied to the ground. His hand in yours is what keeps you grounded. You finally see his nervous expression and have the presence of mind to whisper it back. “Taeyong… I like you, too.”

Of all the ways you imagined this happening, it wouldn’t have been after you cried your eyes out when Taeyong seemingly ditched you before he created a miniature ballroom in a room at the base of the Ravenclaw Tower. Then again, as Taeyong quietly asks permission and you give it to him so he can lean down to kiss you, you figure that it makes just as much sense as any other part of your relationship.

Above you, the sky opens up and it begins to snow.

You spent the rest of fifth year balancing continuing to keep up with your studies and help Taemin with his trials. It was a little hard to complete a potion for breathing underwater when all Taeyong wanted to do was hold your hand or hug you from behind in the sweetest way, but you managed. You didn’t know until a few hours after the last test that Taemin won the Triwizard Cup because you were far too busy practicing kissing with Taeyong behind the bleachers to spectate. That summer, you spend a lot of time writing to him, trying to make up for all of the letters that you had missed in all of your moping the summer before. As per tradition, every one of his letters was delivered by his owl, Snowball, with frightening speed. Taeil, your friend and neighbor, joked about you falling for a Hufflepuff every time he witnessed Snowball nearly barrel head-first into the side of your house.

When reflecting on it, you call your sixth year your ‘honeymoon year.’ Though you didn’t spend any more time with Taeyong than you did before, a much greater amount of it was spent with his hand in yours as you studied.

In your Advanced Charms class, you and Taeyong make a point of not sitting close to each other. You know by now that you would distract each other too much and that people in your year are getting annoyed with your lovesickness. As he’s passing by you while leaving class one day, Taeyong subtly slips a note onto your desk, continuing his conversation with one of his Hufflepuff friends like nothing is happening. Sliding the note into your sleeve, you start to pack up your own things. Once you’re alone, you pull out the seemingly blank note. All it takes is a tap of your wand before the words, written in what you now know very clearly is Taeyong’s handwriting, reveal themselves.

‘Meet me on the bridge at 1 -Tyong’

You smile to yourself. Upon his own insistence, you had started calling him that. He’s already waiting there for you, leaning on the railing of the bridge and gazing out at the water, when you walk over. Over the summer, he had dyed his hair a brilliant white and, though the roots are showing a bit now, you can’t help but think the color suits him well. Your footsteps alert him to your presence and he greets you with a peck on the lips. “Hi.”

“Hi, Taeyong. Why’d you call me here?”

“Because I missed you.” Those four words melt your heart and make you feel warm in the best way. He continues. “Do you want to go on a Hogsmeade date this weekend?”

“I was going to study, but I suppose I can spare Saturday for you.” You try to act a little coy, but he just uses that infectious grin of his on you and you can’t help smiling back.

“Oh! Also,” he reaches back, digging in the pocket of his robes for a moment. He pulls out a white flower a moment later, twirling it by the stem in his fingers. “I grew this in Herbology today. Professor said we only needed the root of the plant and that I could take the flower if I wanted, so…” He leans forward, fixing the flower in your hair.

“Thank you, Taeyong. It’s really pretty.” You don’t stop looking at him as you say it, the happiness on your face reflected on his.

Sixth year was a good year.

Seventh year, the closest in time to you now, and the most trying of all of them, weighs heavily on your mind still. You wish you had done something differently. Something that would have kept your paths from diverging.

“You’re going to Seoul?”

Plans after graduation is a topic that you and Taeyong tend to avoid. Of course, it’s inevitable that you can’t dodge it forever, no matter how much you want to. Now, you’re nearly heartbroken when Taeyong tells you his plans.

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it for a while and… I want to reconnect with my dad’s family back there. Plus, the wildlife there is so different from what’s here! There’s a whole other world to explore over there.” The excitement is so clear on his face that it breaks your heart even more. That look falters when he sees the expression you wear. His next question is gently prodding, timid. “Y/N? What are you going to do?”

“I… I was planning on staying here. Working under the Ministry to become a proper Potions Master.” He studies your expression, eyes becoming more weighed down by sadness as the seconds tick by.

“Oh.”

You both know each other well enough by now to know how the other is feeling. Well enough to know that neither of you will change. Well enough to know where this is leading.

You hang on to the few threads of hope and happiness you have left until the winter. Those fall months, the grip he has on your hand starts to tighten, but somehow become looser at the same time. In the snow, on the bridge to the owl sanctuary, you and Taeyong agree to end it.

The few remaining months of school after that passed emptily. You did well on your exams, as expected of a Ravenclaw, and you didn’t see much of him. You tried not to keep eye contact with him whenever you did pass each other in common areas, but you know his eyes always followed you for far longer. It almost hurt more to not look.

Even when it’s one year, two years past graduation, you have a hard time not thinking about it. Snow, owls, herbs, all remind you of him. You keep telling yourself that you shouldn’t be so hung up on a teen crush, but you know that he was more than that. More than anything, Lee Taeyong was the most incredible person you had ever met. And you lost him. No - you let him go.

In those two years, you spent countless hours in your lab, mixing old potions and creating new ones for the Ministry of Magic, even trying on multiple occasions to brew a potion that could cure heartache but always failing, staying long hours into the night because you know that when you go home, it’s more than likely that Taeyong will cross your mind. But, all things fade.

  Finally, after three years of not seeing him, Taeyong no longer occupies a lot of space in your mind. As one of the youngest of the Potions Masters, you spend almost as much time traveling on errands to retrieve items from around the world as you do brewing your own concoctions. That’s how you ended up here, in Seoul, four years later, tasked with finding a rare herb that is only grown in South Korea. You push open the door to the shop you were told about, a bell hanging on the handle jingling softly as you enter, letting the cold winter wind in. The shop is warm, tucked in a corner next to an alleyway, and smelling of all sorts of fragrant herbs. Different materials rest in jars lining the walls, arranged by what you think is color. By color? Who would organize by color and not by name or usage?

“Hello?” You call out, finding the shop empty save for a few small creatures running around, including a small grey tiger-striped cat. With a small smile, you reach down to stroke the animal, which arches into your hand when you stroke it. “You’re so pretty,” you say quietly to the cat, continuing to pet it, “you remind me of my friend Tora.”

“Coming!” There’s a small clattering noise from the entryway behind the counter of the shop before a face you know well pops out from behind the doorway, his hair a chestnut brown that you’ve never seen on him before.

And, finally, he’s in front of you again.

He blinks. “Y/N?”

“Taeyong?” You know it’s him - he couldn’t possibly be anyone else - but it’s hard to believe your eyes. In a city of millions of people, you run into the one person in the world you would know here.

If it’s possible, he’s even more handsome than the last time you had seen him, but so much of him is very much the same. He still has that little scar by his eye from when something had gone wrong in his Defense Against the Dark Arts class in fourth year, he’s still thin enough that you want to check if he’s been eating properly, he still has that soft voice that is so, so sweet and familiar when he says your name. Suddenly, all the time you had spent trying to get over him is gone and you’re back in your seventh year again, staring at Taeyong and feeling your heart beat faster and heavier in your chest.

“Why are you here? Not- not that I’m unhappy to see you! It’s really nice to see you.” With those words, your heart tells you that he never really forgot about you, either.

“I’m here to get an ingredient. I work for the Ministry now. Potions.” You feel like you can barely move your lips to answer his questions.

“Oh. Like you always wanted.” He smiles, a thin smile like he’s holding back. You wish he wouldn’t hold back. Not again.

You try to pull yourself together enough to tell him what you want, watching as he walks alongside the shelves until he locates what he’s looking for. You smile a little when you realize that organizing potion materials by color is a very, very Taeyong thing to do. As you’re standing there, patiently waiting, the cat you had greeted earlier rubs against your legs, purring quietly, so you reach down to stroke it. “How have you been, Taeyong?”

“Mm? Good. I’ve been running my uncle’s shop. On the weekends, I do a magical creatures class for kids who are magically inclined. There’s not too many wizards willing to teach that kind of stuff here.” He chats as he locates the correct jar and pulls out the right amount of the material you need. He turns to you. “Is… is this all you need?”

You nod. “Yeah. That’s all.” That’s not really all. You want to stay longer, find out how he’s really been, what he named this cat, how the kids he teaches are, if he still thinks about you.

As he rings you up, handing you your change, he pauses, the bills in his hands. His eyes lift to meet yours. “Do you want to stay for coffee or something? We can catch up. If you want.”

“I would love that.”

In the few hours you spend with Taeyong, sipping at coffee that disappears from your cups slowly, staying long enough so that he has to go make more, the space of the years between you disappears. It feels good to talk with Taeyong again. It feels good to know Taeyong again. Regrettably, the sun dips behind the horizon and you look out the window of the shop, seeing the orange sunset reflect onto the shining silver and black buildings before the daylight disappears completely, replaced by the streetlights that blink on one at a time. As the light outside of the shop flickers on, Taeyong speaks up.

“You could stay with me. We could always use more Potions Masters in Seoul.”

“Taeyong-”

“Please.”

Taeyong has always had too much of a habit of shocking you with his words and now is no different. When he says that, you know that he feels the same way that you do. He’s always felt the same way that you do. Somehow, destiny brought you back together again. It would be insane, but-

You set your coffee cup down. You can tell from his expression that he’s expecting a rejection, even with his pleading. But, by now, you think you’re done running from him.

“Do you think the Ministry takes two weeks notices?”

[vajranam]

The Path Of Freedom

Even with all The outward Signs of success And bravado There was no contentment. And for eight long years Enlightenment was for me, A beautiful theory of which I could describe eloquently. But in truth, None of us believed it.

Within the walls of this So-called monastery, Hiding behind robes, Pawing beads, and mumbling prayers… Were criminals, drunkards, opium smokers, thieves, Thugs, slanderers, gamblers, liars, bullies, Whore-buyers, pimps, and sex offenders… And I grimaced At the one in the mirror, For I saw all of this And more In myself. But, For me at least, All this would change One seemingly normal day While Studying out on the balcony… Looking once more Over some tired old texts that were As Lifeless and uninspired as I was. Old books, Like old scholars… Are rarely useful Other than to be put On a shelf by their possessors’ For the bragging rights Of owning them. I owned the books, Nalanda owned me And we were both fakes: Bad forgeries Of some original, Pristine Idea That somehow loses its purity When made to stand still In paper, brick, And skin. But on this day, You could say, The natural order Of things broke down. I had the first of many Mystic Visions, An encounter with Pure Awareness, Or as others believe A meaningless encounter With a crazy person, that Made me crazy. Perhaps, It was both. But, As I sat there studying, Half reading And half mind wandering aimlessly Suddenly, the text disappeared in shadow. The balcony, the chairs, myself, And even the air itself was immersed In darkness. Turning to see The cause of the eclipse, Behind me stood, and caused no small startle, A most horrifying looking old woman!

It was an uncommon sight To see a woman in a monastery of monks Much less one so Ghastly as to even blacken The Sun! Yet, Even though her terrifying shadow Fell over everything, I saw in vivid detail All of her unwholesome and Grotesque features at once! Her eyes were red, blood-shot and bulging, Her hair, a greasy stringy mess sitting atop A huge forehead, her face was cracked, wrinkled skin, Her nose, shriveled and almost Nonexistent. Her ears were a large, lumpy Mass, her jaws were crooked and covered in Yellow stubble, her mouth distorted and pulled to the left, Her teeth, missing, twisted, and rotten, Her back, bent and humped, Her feet, bare, red and puffy, skin flaky and scaly With yellow, long toenails that were filthy and She stank of death and cabbage. Leaning forward on her cane She spoke, “What are you studying there, boy?” For a second or two No words would come To my mouth. My mind Was reeling around trying To land on a logical answer To what I was seeing and hearing And at the same Time trying to formulate A reply to her question. Finally, I sputtered: “I…I…uh… I study books on grammar, Epistemology, spiritual precepts, and logic.” “Oh good,” she said, “do you understand the words or What they are pointing to?” I took a guess, “The Words.” With this answer, The old woman let out A shriek of delight! She began to holler And dance about Swinging her cane In the air and laughing Wildly. Thinking that I could Make her even happier I shouted, “Yes! And I understand What the words are pointing To as well!” Openly That you only Understand the words you read But now you break my heart By lying, Saying that you Have any idea of their meaning?” At first, Anger rose up like fire in my belly Toward this woman! I quickly thought Of thrashing her like a dog And even throwing her off the balcony! Did she not know, I was the Great Scholar, Naropa, The man who defeated 100 challengers in debate, And was begged by the King and all the rest To be Abbott of this Noble Institution because of My supreme intellect?

But the anger subsided into the Truthful resignation that, She was right. This time It was me leaning forward Asking the questions, “Lady, tell me then please,” I said weakly. “Who does know the meaning?” The woman slowly rose To her feet with the help Of her cane She looked at me and began Smiling again: “You must see my brother about this, He knows the Way…Go find him now, And beg him To show you.” And with these words, I found myself Starring directly

Into the sun. I turned my face quickly And used my hand to shield My eyes. There was no longer Shadow Nor woman there. And the only thing worthy Of mention was, At a great distance, A rainbow barely Visible. Suddenly, Feeling again the text I squeezed So tightly In my hand I relaxed a bit And sat back in my chair, The features of the woman, Very strongly imprinted On my mind, like parts of A dream you remember when awakening.

Her rotten teeth, twisted face, And body broken by time… All of her features, All reminders Of the Human condition, My condition. “What I saw, should not be.” I thought. “A sick, tired body…our only reward For a lifetime of struggle.” It was my vanity, It was my Fear, Raising resistance To an unwanted, unwelcome, And undeniable Fact, “I’m growing older, Sicker, and going to die here… A fake monk, a phony playing The role of Abbott.” Today a great scholar, Tomorrow forgotten. “Poor old feeble fellow, I heard he did something great once, no?

Perhaps it was someone else I forget”, they will say this of me. Not all these years Of study Nor a thousand years Of the same Will ever Dispel even one iota Of my dissatisfaction With Life….I simply know too much. Looking down at the text I saw it all very clearly now… A lifeless book Being held in a lifeless hand. I, Naropa, Thought of those That wrote these ancient texts, And wondered, “Were they like me… All ink And no Bliss?” And there’s not one left

Still breathing To tell me if these be truths In fact Or merely a groping attempt At recognition and immortality. All at once I felt the weight Of a life wasted in memorizing Unimportant facts And accumulating Impermanent, useless knowledge. Slowly, And reverently I put the text back in its cloth case, Tied it with a small ribbon, and placed It softly back into my bag. And somewhere between The sitting and standing position, I abandoned everything That I thought I was.

Nothing was left, Save the desire to find this Woman’s brother And make him my Guru. Leaving behind my books And belongings I announced to Nalanda That I was no longer their Abbott But was leaving the world For the homeless life, Seeking One in whom Dwells the Truth. At this news, All of Nalanda Was plunged into despair. (So it seemed to my ego, anyway.) Five hundred scholars, The King, And his Royal Ministers all Assembled to beg me Reconsider. (As I remember it.) They said that it was Against the Buddha’s Dharma

To forsake the Sangha, the community. They said that it was Against the Buddha’s Dharma To forsake my position as “Expounder Of The Teachings.” They even said that it was Against the Buddha himself To cast aside the robes for The Wandering, homeless life. And yet, My face set like flint… I, Naropa Did walk out of the Eastern Gates With only these words On my lips: “Whatever is born will die, Whatever is joined will part. How can we find the Path Of Freedom and immortality In that which only builds up Karma?

I know all the scriptures which are as vast As the sea, All five branches of learning have I mastered With grammar and epistemology, Yet without a competent Guru The fire of my craving will not die.”

Naropa

[aurmgoldau]

Team GOLD - Part 7

-Main Index-

-Previous Part-

=======

Somewhere in the net, Ochre read that dark places tended to create an unpleasant atmosphere that made dark thoughts filled the mind. It was a perfect set-up if Ochre wanted to be reminded about his family’s situation, but Gray and Dee followed closely behind him, making Ochre aware that they both relied on him. He couldn’t get distracted.

Well, it was difficult not to get distracted if your team leader’s head hit the ceiling every once a while … Having big, tall stature had its own disadvantage.

“Why is this happened to us?” Dee’s voice echoed from behind. “This is our first mission and bad things already happened.”

“How naive are you to think hunters’ business is nice and safe?” Ochre sniffed. King Taijitu’s scent was strong. They were on the right track. “And do you forget that you were almost killed during the initiation? Because your Aura hasn't been activated?”

“Ooooohh, good point.”

“And that stupid cat wasn’t being helpful back then,” Ochre grumbled. “You could die because she wasn’t smart enough—”

“Not the best time to raise this topic, but—ow!”

Gray hit the ceiling again.

“Put one of your hand up,” Ochre said. “Yes, like that.”

“What did you wanna say, Chief?”

“I haven’t told you that Li never attended any school before, right?” Gray grunted when his hand brushed another low ceiling. He crouched and this time not hitting his head. “I was called by the principal to discuss this matter. He was concerned that not only she never attended combat school, Li is too young to catch up with learning. He was about to reshuffle our team arrangement, but on the other hand, he’d like to give us a chance for a bit longer. I said to him to give us more time.”

“But—” Ochre scratched his head. “But we need to pass combat school first before applying to the academy. It’s the requirement!”

“Not for the scholarship, remember?” Dee replied. “Y’know I don’t have any of those bloody certificates or diplomas or what-what from combat school. I’m too old to attend combat school and none of my direct family is a huntsman or huntress.”

“Me neither. But I had a huntsman help me with a recommendation letter and skill test from combat school.”

“Skill test—what?! I don’t need to pay those bloody scumbags to fake the documents needed to apply to the academy?”

“You did what?!”

There were so many unexpected things that came up. Ochre pinched the bridge of his nose, confused to find out he was the only one who was a formal graduate from combat school. They didn’t talk much about their past education. Dee was the only one who kept saying she skipped combat school and even with those frequent statements, Ochre still forgot the requirement for their scholarship was different.

“Let’s put this topic for later,” Gray mumbled. “If you really want to talk about it again.”

“We definitely need to adjust our knowledge level,” Ochre added. “But, later.”

“Ochre, how well do you know about Grimm behaviour?” Gray asked.

“Just enough. Why?”

“I think it was odd for the King Taijitu to retreat rather than continue attacking us. Grimm is supposed to be attracted to negative emotions, right?”

Good question.

Ochre walked slower. “What did everyone say about its size? Normal? Too big?”

“Ain’t remember anyone said too big, so I suppose it’s normal?” Dee combed her short hair with fingers. “Ya, Chief?”

“Yes. I suppose it’s normal sized.”

“Just like you suggested, its behaviour was off.” Ochre squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look of his surroundings. King Taijitu’s scent was all over the place and Ochre needed another hint to determine where the creature went. “Anyway, don’t kill King Taijitu at all cost before we manage to save--to save … her.”

“Never thought there’ll be the day where I have to fight in the darkness,” Dee commented.

Gray made a low hum. “We can bring some light, actually.”

He gestured to both Ochre and Dee, pointing at a cluster of crystal near the cave wall. Ochre aimed the flashlight over there. He immediately recognized the crystal as raw Dust crystal. But Ochre couldn’t determine what elemental the crystal was.

“This is a composite Dust,” Gray explained. “We called it the Glow Dust. The lightstick we bring is chemical-based and it lasts around 6 hours lifetime, while Dust-based lightstick can last at least a whole week.”

“Can we light this one up, Chief?”

“Yes. Using Aura or lightning or fire Dust. It will last longer with Aura.”

“But if we can see the Grimm, they can also--wait …” Ochre paused mid-sentence. “Is this the same material for flash grenade?”

“I’m not sure,” Gray frowned. “But I always hear the miner warned each other about not dropping this composite Dust if you don’t want to be blind.”

“Blind???” Dee hissed. “That’s dangerous! Super-duper dangerous!”

“If we can use it to blind the Grimm for our advantage …,” Ochre suggested. He was sure Gray would reject it.

“That might work.” Gray, unexpectedly, agreed. He dug out a few composite Dust crystal and divided several pieces to his teammates. “The blinding effect isn’t permanent. For now, find the Grimm, surveyed the surroundings really quick, and then disable it without killing it.”

“We can kill one of King Taijitu’s heads and pin it to the ground.” Ochre nodded. “It can stay alive with only one head.”

“I start to suspect not all Hunters went through this kind of situation.” Dee squinted her eyes.

“Experience is what differs us with others,” Gray replied.

The moment they arrived in another vast room, Ochre almost choked. The scent was unbearable. It wasn’t just King Taijitu’s scent, or if it was, there must be something really wrong with this Grimm.

Even Gray and Dee who weren’t by default able to smell anything seemed to be bothered.

“So …,” Dee quietly unsheathed her hookswords, “where is it?”

Ochre aimed the flashlight and the light shone on a scaly shadow.

“It’s not moving.”

“But it’s breathing.”

“We need to get closer.” Ochre didn’t like his own suggestion. “We can’t make anything from here.”

The trio tread closer to the Grimm. Ochre carefully shone King Taijitu’s body again.

“I see …”

This King Taijitu had lost one of its head either by a Hunter or an accident inside this cave. Accustomed to synchronous movement of a two-headed snake, the Grimm appeared to be “limping” after it lost the other head. That was probably the reason why it changed its attack pattern into a hit-and-run.

Before Ochre could think anything to approach this problem, a loud thud echoed throughout the cave interior.

Once again, Gray hit his head. This time it was a rather big stalactite.

The Grimm wriggled and slithered. It hissed and found the trio with almost no effort.

“Dee, light up one crystal and close your eyes immediately.” Ochre shoved his share of composite Dust to Dee’s palm.

King Taijitu hissed and moved its head towards Dee.

“Fire in the hole!!!”

Dee hit the crystal with her hooksword, sending it flying to King Taijitu’s head. Ignited by the lightning Dust loaded in Dee’s hooksword, the crystal “exploded” with a blast of light. King Taijitu hissed, blinded by the ignition.

“Tail!” Ochre motioned at the other end of the Grimm.

Dee followed, tapping her hooksword to random scattered composite crystal, just enough to help everyone see.

“Bloody—!”

Were it a second later, Dee would have ended in King Taijitu’s stomach. The giant snake rammed its head to Dee and Ochre. Dee kicked Ochre away before she jumped to the opposite side, avoiding the attack.

King Taijitu turned its attention to Ochre.

“Oh dear ….”

The only plan Ochre could think about now was to run for his lives. To make things worse, Ochre was on the side where Dee hadn’t light any composite Dust crystal yet.

Can I make him ram into the wall? Ochre thought. He didn’t look behind to see how close King Taijitu was to him, but Ochre could somehow feel the creature’s breath on his neck, which wasn’t good at all.

Ochre took a sudden turn, trying to trick the monster. He didn’t see the slope in front of him before too late. He slipped and fell, sliding down the slope. It was probably his luck that Ochre hit a stalagmite, stopping his falling.

However, King Taijitu was still on him.

“Dog-chre!” That was Dee, shouting from somewhere on Ochre’s right. She somehow managed to catch up and now hanging on one of the stalagmite with her hooksword. Dee stretched her hand toward Ochre. “Jump!”

Half jumping half skidding on the slope, Ochre reached Dee. King Taijitu missed him. Again. And it upset the creature.

“Now what?” Ochre tried to catch his breath. “It’s still chasing us.”

“Chief said he has a plan,” Dee said. “Sort of.”

“We need something better than ‘some sort of plan’.”

Dee grabbed Ochre and pulled him, sliding on the slope once again. She stopped her falling by hooking another protruding stalagmite.

King Taijitu gave a chase, only to stop before it could reach Dee or Ochre. It hissed and looked behind. Something pulled King Taijitu up and the creature struggled back.

“Hey, Monkey, do you think you can hit and light the composite Dust, aiming it into the snake mouth?”

“Never tried it. Should I?”

Ochre never answered the question. King Taijitu had freed itself and rushed toward Dee and Ochre. Panicked, Dee did the only thinkable at the moment: jump and let herself sliding down. However, this was the perfect timing to do Ochre’s plan and Ochre needed to keep close with the creature instead of distancing himself.

Or ….

Ochre took out one of his boomerang, the one loaded with fire Dust. He threw himself onto a huge chunk of crystal composite. King Taijitu passed him, but then it stopped, and turned around. Instead of chasing Dee, it turned its attention to Ochre.

“Dog-chre! Jump! Run!” Dee’s scream echoed. “Whatever! Just stay away from the monster!”

King Taijitu moved. Really fast. Its mouth was opened.

Ochre leapt in the last second. His boomerang, stuck on the crystal composite, exploded. Flash of light flooded the cave. There was a crashing sound, but Ochre didn’t see what happened. He was sliding down, blinded by the light and couldn’t see his surroundings.

Something hit Ochre’s back. He landed on a protruding rock structure. He was (probably) doomed. Ochre couldn’t see well and from the noise he heard, King Taijitu was alive. His plan failed.

Failed.

Snake and reptile couldn’t scream, Ochre was pretty sure of that, but he was also sure that he heard King Taijitu let out a “scream”. It sounded like it was in pain.

And then silence.

For a few seconds, Ochre listened to his own breathing. He hadn’t regained his eyesight back after the light explosion and could only rely on his ears to guess what happened. There was scratching noise and something sliding down somewhere nearby—

“LI!”

Frantic steps that followed after must be Dee. Ochre started to see better and now moved slowly, repositioning himself. Dee made a chattering noise, saying how glad she was that Li was alright.

Ochre let out a relieved breath.

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-Team AURM and Team GOLD Main Index-