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alwaysachorusgirl · 3 years ago

Text

Adoption Day

Pairing: Frederick Chilton x Female Reader

Word Count: 2089

For: Covers the Animal Shelter square for @adarafaelbarba 's fall moodboard bingo

TW: very brief mention of past childhood abuse and animal abandonment, but other than that, it's mostly fluff

Dedication: This is for the world's best cat mom, @madamsnape921 ,because it's her birthday! Go send her some birthday love today!

Author's Note: Jumping back a little in the Cat Daddy Frederick timeline to cover Buttercup's adoption story. Per my previously established continuity, this would take place in January, right after New Year's, and prior to "Not According to Plan"

Tags: @itsjustmyfantasyroom @prurientpuddlejumper @thatesqcrush @welcometothemxdhouse @raulesparza4eva @teamsladsandgents @rosequcrtz

The winter wind howled outside the window and snow drifted across the windowpanes, but inside Frederick Chilton’s ornate home you were safe and warm. No, our home, I live here now, you thought to yourself. You were still getting used to thinking of it as your home, too. You were unpacking the last of the boxes from your recent move. A fire was roaring in the living room fireplace, giving the room a cozy, comforting glow. You inhaled the aroma of the hearty vegetable stew that was cooking in the crockpot in the kitchen, and your stomach growled. You were going to need to take a dinner break soon, and as if he was reading your mind, Frederick entered the room and came over to where you were placing your books on the expansive built-in shelves.

“How goes it with the books? Do you need more shelf space? I can always move somethings into my office if you need more.”

“Thank you, Frederick, but don’t worry; I think I have more than enough. I am, however, getting rather hungry. I think it’s time we ate dinner, don’t you?

“I couldn’t agree more, my love, shall I set the table?” he asked, taking your hand, and helping you to your feet.

“Thank you, Frederick, that would be lovely.”

*****************

“This stew is fantastic, my love! We’ll most certainly have to use this recipe again.”

When you didn’t respond right away, Frederick started to worry and reached for your hand. “Darling?”

“Oh! Sorry! I zoned out for a moment, must be more tired than I thought; Thank you, Frederick, I have a whole slew of crock pot recipes that are perfect for cold winter days.”

“Y/N, are you alright? Have I done something wrong? Is it the house? Is there something you’re not happy with?”

“What? Oh, Frederick, no!” You squeezed his reassuringly. “You haven’t done anything wrong, my love, and the house is perfectly fine. It’s just…” you paused, not sure how to broach your thoughts.

“What is it? Whatever you need, I’ll make sure you have it! Cost is no object!”

You took a breath and tried to collect your thoughts. You loved cats, but your previous apartment had not allowed pets. You had promised yourself that when you eventually moved you would be a cat mom again. It had been far too long. But it was something that you and Frederick hadn’t discussed yet, and you had no idea what his feelings were on the subject.

“What did you think about getting a cat?” You blurted out, bracing yourself for what you were sure was going to be an argument.

It was now Frederick’s turn to go silent, taken aback by your unexpected query. He mulled it over in his head before answering.

“Honestly, my love, I’ve never thought about it before. I never had a pet of any kind growing up. My parents did not allow animals in the house.”

“Oh, Frederick, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” In theory, you knew you probably should have guessed that. You knew that Frederick’s father had been a hard, cruel man, and had been abusive toward Frederick and his mother. Frederick’s mother had been so worn down by it that she eventually shutdown, mentally and emotionally, and neglected to protect her son when he needed it the most. Of course, they hadn’t allowed pets, they hadn’t even allowed their son to have a normal childhood, or an ounce of happiness.

“My darling, you have nothing to apologize for,” said Frederick, placing soft kisses on the back of your hand. “If it’s a cat you want, then a cat you shall have. I’ll do some research after we finish here. Cats need supplies, right? Food, litter, toys, those fancy cat trees, cute little sweaters?”

****************

After dinner you and Frederick sat side-by-side on the couch with your laptops, him researching what kind of supplies you going to need to buy, and you were looking at your local SPCA’s website.

“Good god, I had no idea how many different types of cat litter there were!”

“Oh, Frederick, if you think that’s bad, wait until you see how competitive the cat food market is. Hmm…that’s interesting…”

“What is it?” asked Frederick, looking over at your laptop.

“This listing here,” you said, pointing at a blank gray box. “There should be a picture here, like there is for the other listings, but it’s blank. It says it’s supposed to be a 2-month-old black female…. hang on; I have an idea.”

You grabbed your phone off the coffee table and scrolled through your contacts until you found the name you were looking for. You hit “Call” and waited.

“Hello?” A voice finally picked up on the other end.

“Joanne! Hi! It’s Y/N. How are you?”

“I’m great, how are you? It’s been ages since the last time we hung out.”

“I’m good, and you’re right; it has been too long. Is this a good time to talk?”

“Sure! What’s up?”

“Do you still work for the county SPCA?”

“Oh, you bet I do! Oh my god, are you finally in the market to adopt?”

“Yes, I am, and I have a question about one of the cat listings on the website. The one that’s missing a picture?”

“Yes, I just noticed that a few hours ago. Our website person put that up prematurely. The kitten was just spayed, and normally we wait until the animal has had adequate recovery time before we add them to the site, but accidents happen. Last I checked, the little one is recovering nicely and should be ready to interact a couple days. She’s the sweetest thing. Someone dumped her in a cardboard box at our front door. She had a leg injury, but that’s also healing up. She loves to play, loves to cuddle, and I’ll think she’ll thrive in a good home. Would you like to make an appointment to see her?”

“Yes, I would! What time slots do you have available?”

*******************

A few days later, you and Frederick walked arm in arm into the county SPCA. Frederick had rush-ordered all the supplies you thought you’d need and then some. You both excited and nervous. You’d already taken a huge step by moving in together, and now you were adopting a pet. You looked over at Frederick and noticed the uncertainty in his eyes. He also seemed leaning on his cane for support. He always seemed to do that when he was unsure about something. You gave his arm a gentle squeeze and kissed his cheek.

“It’s going to be okay, Frederick, you’re to be a wonderful cat dad. I believe in you.”

Frederick blushed and placed a soft kiss on your temple.

“Thank you, my love, I appreciate your faith in me, even though I’m still not sure what’s done to deserve it, or you.”

Before you could respond to that, Joanne came out her office and rushed toward you.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you, too, Joanne.” You enveloped her in a big hug and then motioned to Frederick. “Joanne, this is Dr. Frederick Chilton, my Frederick.”

Frederick gave you the most loving of looks, and nearly melted into a puddle at your feet at sound of you referring to him as “your Frederick.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Chilton,” said Joanne, extending her hand.

“And you,” he replied, shaking hands.

“Well, I suppose you want to meet the little one; right this way!”

You and Frederick followed Joanne to cat section of the shelter. You walked past several cats, each one trying to get your attention from their enclosures. If you had your way, you’d take them all home, but you didn’t think Frederick was quite ready for that yet; but maybe one day…

“Here she is, “announced Joanne, stopping in front of one of the enclosures. A tiny black, fluffy kitten was inside, and her eyes lit up when she saw you. She was immediately on her feet, and you noticed she still had a slight limp in her injured leg, but she was full of energy and mewing incessantly. Joanne opened the door and carefully lifted her out. You reached out to take her, but the impatient kitten leapt out of Joanne’s hands and into your waiting arms.

“Oh! Hello! Hi baby, hi sweetheart,” you cooed.

“Mew, mew, mew!”

You looked into her eyes, and it was love at first sight. You did your best to hold onto her, shifting and adjusting your arms to accommodate her constant movement and attempts to climb up your shoulder. You gave her a little scratch between her ears and kissed her head. She was perfect.

“Mew! Mew!”

“Yes, baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Frederick stood there watching you with the kitten, completely dumbstruck. Just when he thought he couldn’t fall anymore in love with you, you had to go and surprise him. You were a natural cat mom, cradling the tiny ball of fluff and talking to her like she was a human. He saw the kitten rub her nose against your chin and looked like she was giving you kisses. He also saw the look of pure love and joy on your face, and he lived for that, wanted to see that every day. He didn’t know anything about raising a cat, but for you, he would try.

**************

Joanne led you to a visitor’s room so that you and Frederick could spend some quality time getting to know the kitten. Frederick removed his coat and offered to take the kitten so that you could take off yours. You demonstrated how to hold the kitten and then handed her to Frederick. He held her close to chest and sat down.

“Mew?” the kitten looked up at him, confused as to who this new person was.

“It’s alright, little one, I’ve got you,” he tried to reassure her. A lock of his normally perfectly quaffed hair suddenly flopped in his face, and the kitten’s eyes grew wide.

“Mew?” she raised a paw and tentatively batted at Frederick’s hair. “Mew…”

“Oh, that’s adorable,” you said, plopping down next to them on a bean bag chair. You saw the smile on his face and nudged him with your elbow. “See? She likes you. And I think she wants to play.” You looked around the room and saw the toy boxes, filled with various dog and cat toys, but then something else caught your eye. “Frederick?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Hand her back to me and take off your scarf, please.”

He did as he was told. You carefully placed the kitten on the carpet and proceeded to dangle the scarf in front if her. Her eyes went wide again, and then she crouched, wiggled her backside, and pounced. Her little paws batted at the scarf, then she would roll around kick at it with her hind legs.

“It certainly looks like she’s enjoying herself,” Frederick chuckled. “So, what are we going to call her?”

“I was thinking ‘Buttercup”,” you said matter-of-factly.

“I am not the least bit surprised,” he replied, immediately picking up on your reference. He looked at the kitten. “Well, what do you think about that little one?”

“Mew?”

“Your name,” you told her, “Buttercup, do you like it?”

“Mew, mew.” She forgot about the scarf and crawled into your lap, kneading you with her paws.

“I think she likes it.” You threw Frederick a smile.

“Yes, I quite think she does. I have an idea, how about a story? Would you like that Buttercup?”

“Mew.” She replied with a yawn,

“Darling, if you check your bag, I believe you’ll find a book there.”

You checked your purse, and sure enough, in the largest section was a children’s book, one that you instantly recognized from your own childhood.

“If You Give A Mouse A Cookie?”

“It came highly recommended by the lady at the bookstore.”

“It’s perfect, Frederick.” You handed him the book and leaned your head against his knee. As he began to read, Buttercup curled up in your lap and shut her eyes, she was soon fast asleep, purring away. When he finished reading, Frederick caressed your cheek with hand to get your attention.

“So, shall we go find Joanne and make it official?”

“Yes,” you replied, gazing down at Buttercup, “If we don’t take her home today, I think I’ll cry.”

“Then let’s go fill out the paperwork and bring her home.”

#frederick chilton x reader #frederick chilton x female reader #frederick chilton #cat daddy frederick #frederick chilton imagines #hannibal #hannibal fanfiction #adarafaelbarbaseptmeberbingo #my writing

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esther-dot · 3 years ago

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I don't know if people agree with me but I wanted to share my opinion if it's okay. I don't think Cat being lashing out on Jon when he came to greet Bran was okay. I have seen people defended her saying she was in grief and not properly eating and resting. But it doesn't make it okay for her being angry over him and wishing he should have been in Bran's place. Her bringing out her issues with Jon at that time was not correct. Sorry again if it causes you trouble as I don't intended to 😊

No worries! We all have different interpretations and as long as no one is being rude or saying unjustifiable things against a character, I'm not bothered. As far as I know, the discussion around this scene is usually Cat fans (I am one) pushing back against the idea that Cat habitually treated Jon this way. I believe Martin even said this was an extreme circumstance, so to say otherwise is rewriting precanon events. I don't think Martin ever wants a simple interpretation of events, he likes complexity, so to ignore Cat's feelings here is as wrong to ignore Jon's. Jon is the child so we instinctively sympathize with him, but Martin is presenting two realities at once, Cat and Jon’s and I think we should be able to sympathize with both. To deny either is to miss how he likes to stack this stuff. This isn’t about saying Cat is right, it’s understanding both realities. So, I'm going to paste in the entire passage and highlight a few things:

Jon climbed the steps slowly, trying not to think that this might be the last time ever. Ghost padded silently beside him. Outside, snow swirled through the castle gates, and the yard was all noise and chaos, but inside the thick stone walls it was still warm and quiet. Too quiet for Jon's liking.

He reached the landing and stood for a long moment, afraid. Ghost nuzzled at his hand. He took courage from that. He straightened, and entered the room.

Jon is afraid of angering Cat and he knows his presence will upset her. I’m stating the obvious, but bear with me.

Lady Stark was there beside his bed. She had been there, day and night, for close on a fortnight. Not for a moment had she left Bran's side. She had her meals brought to her there, and chamber pots as well, and a small hard bed to sleep on, though it was said she had scarcely slept at all. She fed him herself, the honey and water and herb mixture that sustained life. Not once did she leave the room. So Jon had stayed away.

But now there was no more time.

When you are a parent or responsible for a child, you are no longer your own. Kids own you in a way that I can't explain. There really is nothing more frightening or devastating than a child being seriously ill. This isn't just stress of caring for a sick person (which in and of itself is levels of exhaustion only those who do it day after night after day after night can understand), it is also pain you can't imagine. Cat is consumed not only with caring for Bran, but with grief. Also, she is struggling with guilt as we learn in a moment.

He stood in the door for a moment, afraid to speak, afraid to come closer. The window was open. Below, a wolf howled. Ghost heard and lifted his head.

Lady Stark looked over. For a moment she did not seem to recognize him. Finally she blinked. "What are you doing here?" she asked in a voice strangely flat and emotionless.

"I came to see Bran," Jon said. "To say good-bye."

Her face did not change. Her long auburn hair was dull and tangled. She looked as though she had aged twenty years. "You've said it. Now go away."

The physical description of Cat is telling us everything we need to know about her emotional/mental state.

Part of him wanted only to flee, but he knew that if he did he might never see Bran again. He took a nervous step into the room. "Please," he said.

Something cold moved in her eyes. "I told you to leave," she said. "We don't want you here."

Once that would have sent him running. Once that might even have made him cry. Now it only made him angry. He would be a Sworn Brother of the Night's Watch soon, and face worse dangers than Catelyn Tully Stark. "He's my brother," he said.

"Shall I call the guards?"

"Call them," Jon said, defiant. "You can't stop me from seeing him." He crossed the room, keeping the bed between them, and looked down on Bran where he lay.

Let's take a moment and imagine our partner cheating on us and then bringing the child from their infidelity into the home that we have no option to leave. We simply have to deal every day knowing that at some point in the future, he might rise up and take your son's birthright (this is the fear Cat lives with even if we know Jon would never). None of us would handle that well. That alone is enough to break you. Cat has had to carry this, all the pain and rage for years, and she has no recourse. Jon's existence is a gaping wound, and on one of the worst days of her life, he takes the unprecedented action of defying her in her own home.

Be Cat. You're in that position, and not only have you been powerless the entirety of your married life, just forced to swallow all the indignity of your husband's unprecedented choice, told to swallow all your fears, and now, this person, the one who you view as the source of so much pain and fear, challenges you, refuses to listen. You can't escape his presence in your home, but usually he avoids you, and now, he insists on something you specifically forbid.

Jon knew she wouldn’t want him there (which is why he didn’t go for a long time), she told him to leave, and he refused to listen. Every part of his actions were in conflict of what she wanted, and he knew it. Now, Jon's intention in seeing Bran is totally understandable! I love Jon, I love how he loves Bran and his reasoning that he needs to be a man and face his fears, that he has the right to say good-bye to his beloved brother --of course! We support that. It's just, it doesn't negate Cat's feelings. I think we can give a fair shake to both. I can admire Jon facing his own fears regarding Cat’s displeasure, and I can understand how upsetting Jon’s behavior here was for her.

She was holding one of his hands. It looked like a claw. This was not the Bran he remembered. The flesh had all gone from him. His skin stretched tight over bones like sticks. Under the blanket, his legs bent in ways that made Jon sick. His eyes were sunken deep into black pits; open, but they saw nothing. The fall had shrunken him somehow. He looked half a leaf, as if the first strong wind would carry him off to his grave.

Yet under the frail cage of those shattered ribs, his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath.

Let's think about how upsetting it is to Jon to see this, but also, the fact that Cat had to sit there for fourteen days and nights watching this happen to Bran. She had been sitting by her son’s bedside watching him die.

"Bran," he said, "I'm sorry I didn't come before. I was afraid." He could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks. Jon no longer cared. "Don't die, Bran. Please. We're all waiting for you to wake up. Me and Robb and the girls, everyone …"

Lady Stark was watching. She had not raised a cry. Jon took that for acceptance. Outside the window, the direwolf howled again. The wolf that Bran had not had time to name.

"I have to go now," Jon said. "Uncle Benjen is waiting. I'm to go north to the Wall. We have to leave today, before the snows come." He remembered how excited Bran had been at the prospect of the journey. It was more than he could bear, the thought of leaving him behind like this. Jon brushed away his tears, leaned over, and kissed his brother lightly on the lips.

I just think we can spare a little sympathy for Cat who, we’re being told, would have had to summon the guards to have Jon removed because he didn’t care what she wanted. Now, again, I don’t fault Jon. But, the fact that she silently takes this, silently endures, silently watches, well, it sounds an awful lot like what her life with Jon has been all along, and that is painful for me as someone who cares about her. On the one hand, I'm proud of Jon for going to Bran in spite of his fear, and I feel for him that he had that fear in the first place, but on the other hand, I am brokenhearted for Cat that her married life meant silent acceptance of things she did not want, of something she viewed as a threat to her children.

"I wanted him to stay here with me," Lady Stark said softly.

Jon watched her, wary. She was not even looking at him. She was talking to him, but for a part of her, it was as though he were not even in the room.

"I prayed for it," she said dully. "He was my special boy. I went to the sept and prayed seven times to the seven faces of god that Ned would change his mind and leave him here with me. Sometimes prayers are answered."

Jon did not know what to say. "It wasn't your fault," he managed after an awkward silence.

Her eyes found him. They were full of poison. "I need none of your absolution, bastard."

So, here we have a mean moment, and it is. I'm not going to pretend it isn't, and Jon was trying to comfort her, but Jon is a wound to her too.

Jon lowered his eyes. She was cradling one of Bran's hands. He took the other, squeezed it. Fingers like the bones of birds. "Good-bye," he said.

They both love Bran so much! 😭

He was at the door when she called out to him. "Jon," she said. He should have kept going, but she had never called him by his name before. He turned to find her looking at his face, as if she were seeing it for the first time.

"Yes?" he said.

"It should have been you," she told him. Then she turned back to Bran and began to weep, her whole body shaking with the sobs. Jon had never seen her cry before.

It was a long walk down to the yard. (AGOT, Jon II)

Multiple things in this passage are unprecedented hence the repetition of “never.” So, I think we need to remember, that Cat did not routinely treat Jon this way. Later in the series we learn Cat would watch him and Jon comments about how bastards learn to read people’s eyes, so I think he knows her feelings about him implicitly. I think this is a lot of pent up rage and grief that she unleashed on the wrong person. Because obviously, Jon is a victim too. Obviously, such a situation is horrible for a child. But, while we understand Jon’s fear of Cat (he was a kid who had the Lady of Winterfell resenting his existence!), his very understandable choice to defy her actually fed into the worst of her feelings and fears.

Jon’s love demanded he do this, but it’s Cat’s love for her children that demanded she fear him. So, I agree that her behavior isn’t okay, but part of writing is trying to recreate a facsimile of reality, and in the real world, everyone says and does things based on their perception of things, not from an omniscient standpoint. And, we are witnessing Cat’s grief, but experiencing Jon’s fear and pain, so the reader finds it easiest to sympathize with him and needs to work a little to remind themselves of the context in which Cat is operating. We have her pain over the situation as a whole, we have her grief over Bran, and then we have this beyond the norm occurrence of Jon challenging her rather than avoiding her.

I just have a lot of compassion for both characters here, and I think we’re meant to. Also, I think that moment when Jon and Cat are both holding Bran’s hands while in discord themselves is part of this series long idea of Jon not being what Cat fears because he loves her children too. Her love for her children makes her want him gone, but his love for them makes him refuse to take Winterfell when it is offered, it gives him fortitude during his mission with the FF and to betray Ygritte, his love for Ned and Robb and Arya make him try to leave the Watch avenge/help them. It’s heartbreaking that because of their world her fears were rational, but because of who Jon is they weren’t necessary. In this moment, their love for the same person leads them into direct conflict, but that love is something they share, and I expect that Jon will play a huge role in securing the safety of her children.

Thanks for the ask, anon!

#ask dot #< tag to filter if y'all don't want to see this stuff

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dontmindmyshadowhunting · 3 years ago

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Welcome to Faerieland - Fan Fic (last chapters)

Here we go! Last chapters of Welcome to Faerieland.

Link to full story on AO3 here.

*****

Dru and Ash landed a mile or so away from their destination, in order to avoid drawing attention to the location. As soon as their feet touched the ground, the two rocs turned around and disappeared above the treetops.

“I can walk,” Dru said and Ash offered his arm to steady her while she limped toward the general direction of the cottage. She knew it pretty well, it had sort of become a Blackthorns’ country home.

“So how do you know this place?”

“My eldest brother is dating the King of the Unseelie Court, and that’s where they meet sometimes.”

Ash whistled.

“One of your brothers is King Kieran’s lover? I think I heard about him.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty serious, although they won’t ever be able to be official about it. I guess you know what the rules are about faerie royalty’s consorts?”

“I do,” he averted his gaze and brushed a hand through his hair, in what seemed to be a nervous gesture. Dru realized it was the first time Ash had looked uncomfortable about a subject.

“A lot of rules need to be changed,” he said abruptly. “Don’t you agree?” His green eyes bore into her as he said it, as if he was desperate for her approval.

“Well, King Kieran has already been carrying out a lot of changes since he came to power. It’s just that… sometimes, it takes time. You can’t change the world overnight.”

Ash kicked a pebble. “You could, if you didn’t insist on everything being consensual. Maybe King Kieran cares too much about what people think of him... or, you know, in general.” He shrugged but there was a predatory glint in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before, and it almost made her cringe.

“You know, Ash, if what you are looking for in a sovereign is arbitrary decisions and a bitchy attitude, we have the Seelie Queen for that.”

She had expected Ash to laugh, his free, careless laugh - God, she loved it when he did that - but he seemed lost in thought.

She had to admit she had been a bit harsh. She knew the Seelie and Unseelie Courts were in much better terms now that King Arawn was dead. The Queen had appointed the Unseelie Prince Adaon as her most trusted advisor and the two of them and King Kieran met regularly to reinforce the bonds and cooperation between both realms.

Dru started humming a song and Ash paused, his green eyes widening. “Are you singing… Royals ?”

“Yeah, I love that song. Do you know it?”

“I do,” he answered, suppressing a smile.

As they walked, she sang louder - she knew the lyrics by heart - and he watched her with glittering eyes, clearly entertained.

“And we'll never be royals It don't run in our blood That kind of luxe just ain't for us We crave a different kind of buzz Let me be your ruler You can call me queen bee”

“Maybe I will,” he whispered in her ear as he tickled her, and she elbowed him playfully.

He sang along with her then - he had a beautiful tenor voice - both of them throwing their heads back at the same time to howl at the sky “And baby, I'll rule - I’ll rule, I’ll rule, I’ll rule” , like a pair of wolves. They roared with laughter, Dru holding her ribs and leaning against Ash for support. Watching him from the corner of her eye, she marvelled at the fact that she had found a new friend in such a short time.

At the Academy, people either feared her because she was a Blackthorn or wanted to be friends with her simply for that same reason. Or both. She was almost a celebrity, despite herself. Only because of her last name and her eldest brothers’ hand in ending the Cold Peace in the most spectacular way. And of course, there were always the loud-mouthed bigots and moralists who were baffled by the Blackthorns’ ties with the Fair Folk and their so-called “sexual and moral depravity”. The Rosales, of course, suffered the same criticism, and Jaime had always been a comforting shoulder and reliable friend to Dru in those moments where she felt she had had too much to deal with.

She didn’t want to worry Julian, Emma, Mark or even Helen with her troubles making friends at the Academy.

She couldn’t confide in Ty, because he didn’t care at all what people thought, and was content with sticking to his close friends, Livvy and Anush. His teachers, especially Ragnor Fell and Catarina Loss were absolute fans - even if Fell would never admit it - and everyone at the Scholomance was too impressed by his obvious academic superiority - and maybe, the Carpathian lynx tailing him - to dare bother him anyway.

Ash seemed to be far away from all of this, as if he had been living as a hermit in a remote tower, which was probably close to the truth.

He was the only one outside her siblings, with the exception of Jaime of course, to treat her like an ordinary girl.

And maybe, maybe someday Ash could become more than a friend. He was nice, definitely fun, absolutely gorgeous and he had kissed her after all, even though she knew it could be meaningless where faeries were concerned. She had been waiting for Jaime to figure things out for so long, and Ash had appeared out of nowhere and had shown interest without a moment’s hesitation.

She was interrupted in her thoughts as a broad-shouldered silhouette falling from the sky dropped on the ground before them. Dru released Ash’s arm to clap both her hands on her mouth, relief washing over her. Kit, looking as angelic as ever with his bright blue eyes and tousled blond hair, fluttered his white wings tipped with gold as he advanced gleefully to greet Dru.

The reunion was cut short as he was suddenly thrown back by a figure shooting straight into him like a cannonball and from one moment to the next, Kit disappeared into a ball of black and white feathers, rolling on the grass.

It took Dru a moment to realize that Ash had disappeared from her side and that he was actually the one who had attacked Kit. She ran to separate them but soon they were shooting up, caught in a wrestling match a few feet above ground, moving so swiftly they were a blur.

Dru let out a heavy sigh before she put two fingers between her lips and whistled as loud as she could. The two figures froze - they were still grappling each other - and looked down.

“ASH! KIT! Both of you. Get down here! NOW.”

They both looked at each other.

“ASH! What the hell is wrong with you, this is my brother’s boyfriend !” Dru continued, gesturing frantically toward Kit.

Ash released Kit first, grudgingly, and they both landed softly on the floor. There was a long gash across Ash’s cheek but he was grinning like the Cheshire cat, his eyes glittering in excitement. He winked at Dru as he wiped blood from his mouth. Kit was rearranging his hair, looking pissed, and Dru realized that his knuckles were bloody and that there was a small cut on his eyebrow. Both of them seemed otherwise unharmed.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Batman ?” Kit said, glaring at Ash.

“Sorry,” Ash replied, wiping dirt from his shirt. “I took you for a psychopathic jerk who nearly killed me a few years ago. He literally kicked me and my uncle out of the place we used to live in. You look exactly like him.”

“Well, it can’t have been me since last night was the first time I ever saw you,” Kit replied sharply, wiping his bloody knuckles over his shirt.

“Yeah, don’t worry, I figured that out pretty fast. You fight like a pussy compared to him.”

“Want to say that again?” Kit lifted an eyebrow at him.

“Boys, could you please stop comparing the sizes of your dicks, so we can move on?”

Ash and Kit complied, arguing over which Batman movie was best the entire way, until the cottage came into view, a few feet away. The door opened and Jaime came out of it, running toward them.

“Dru,” he cried out. He caught up to her, and threw his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. She lost herself in his familiar and comforting scent and pressed her cheek against his torso. “Mi corazón,” he whispered softly. "We were worried sick. Cómo estás?”

Jaime brushed his hands through Dru’s hair and planted a kiss on her forehead.

She swiftly pulled back, her eyes darting to where Ash was leaning against a tree, talking to Kit, his arms crossed. He was smiling indulgently at her, as if he didn’t mind.

“I am fine, thanks to Ash,” she said, and pulled Jaime over to where Ash and Kit were standing. “Jaime, this is Ash. Ash, this is Jaime,” she introduced, waving her hand awkwardly between the two of them.

“Thank you for taking care of our precious Dru,” Jaime said, extending his hand. “We owe you one.”

“No hay de qué!” Ash replied, shaking his hand.

“Hablas español?” Jaime asked, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Solo a hombres con un excelente gusto en mujeres.” He gave Jaime a wicked grin and looked pointedly at Dru. Jaime’s face fell.

A high-pitched shriek had them whip their heads up in time to see a majestic roc land on the ground, a few feet away. Ty hopped gracefully from the giant bird and walked immediately to Dru. He was pale - even more so than usual - with deep dark circles under his gray eyes, and Dru marvelled at how gorgeous her brother was anyway, whatever state he was in. She sometimes wished she had inherited the same stunningly sharp features. Without a word, Ty knelt in front of Dru and started inspecting her wound.

“Ash, this is my brother Ty,” Dru announced proudly.

Ash started to extend his hand but Dru shook her head at him. He let it fall by his side.

“Ty, this is Ash.”

Tiberius nodded without lifting his gaze.

“Who tended to the wound?”

“I did,” Ash answered.

Ty finally stood - and Dru realized Ash was almost as tall as Ty, which was saying something, since Ty was very tall - and glanced at Ash for the first time, his gray eyes looking down under his long eyelashes and not lifting up from a spot on Ash’s shoulder. “Thanks,” he said curtly.

Hesitantly, Ty put his arms around Dru in one of the rare hugs he had ever granted her. It was awkward and short, but Dru knew it meant Ty had been truly terrified of losing her.

After they released each other, Ty whirled and started walking toward the cottage. He paused after a few steps and glanced over his shoulder. The four of them had just been standing there, staring at him. “Are you coming?”

They all hurried after Ty, Dru having one arm around Ash’s, and the other around Jaime’s.

“So, tell me. Are all your brothers this handsome?” Ash asked her, as he looked Ty up and down appreciatively.

“EXCUSE ME? “ Kit interjected. His whole face had gone bright red in an instant and he started cracking his bloody knuckles. He looked poised for a second round.

“What? Did I say something wrong?” Ash did not seem in the least bit concerned by Kit’s reaction.

“It’s my boyfriend you are talking about.”

“And I just said I found him attractive. Is that in any way offensive?”

Dru laughed. “No,” she said. “I am sure you were simply stating your opinion and not trying to steal Kit’s boyfriend.”

“I am not trying to steal anyone’s lover,” Ash concurred, gazing wistfully at Dru. ”I just admire beauty when I see it”.

“But he would definitely be up for sex if Ty wanted to,” Jaime muttered sarcastically under his breath.

Ash shot him a puzzled look. “Of course, I would. Why not? Kit would be welcome as well, the more the merrier.”

Kit opened his mouth but seemed too much in a shock for a witty comeback. That was a first.

Oddly enough, Dru realized she didn’t feel jealous or baffled by Ash’s statement. He was like an untamed bird breaking out of a cage, unwilling to bend to any rules of propriety. She guessed part of it was due to his fey heritage.

“Mark is the Unseelie King’s lover, the Seelie Queen keeps trying to get into Julian’s pants and now you two,” Jaime said eventually, looking over at Ty and Dru. “What is it with the Blackthorns and the Fair Folk anyway?”

“Probably the exact same thing there is with Blackthorns and any other species,” Ash said evenly.

Everyone turned a questioning look at him.

“They are hot,” he said simply, and shrugged.

Everyone laughed at that.

*****

They were all starving so they decided to have breakfast in the cottage before heading back home.

Kit, wearing an apron that had "Doughnut sandwiches are a proper meal” printed on it (and that probably belonged to Mark Blackthorn), was in the kitchen, scrambling a huge portion of eggs in a large pan with a wooden spoon. He somehow managed to make it look totally hot.

“Eggs?” Ty asked Kit as he came to stand next to him and put a hand on the small of Kit’s back.

“Yeah, I would have cooked pancakes, but we are missing a few ingredients to do that. So it will be eggs. Eggs and fruits. God knows there are plenty of fruits here.”

“You know how to cook pancakes?” Ty asked, his gray eyes widening in surprise.

Kit shot him a shy glance.

“Yeah, I… I asked Julian for his recipe. You know, in case one day I needed to cook for you…r family.”

Kit and Ty both exchanged a look that was so intimate, Jaime had to glance away. He found Ash leaning casually against the fridge, his arms crossed, and gazing at him with a smirk on his face. He looked like he owned the place and hadn’t just popped uninvited into the home of strangers. When Jaime raised a questioning eyebrow at him, Ash unfolded his arms to draw the shape of a heart in the air in front of him. Jaime rolled his eyes. He definitely didn’t like this guy.

They set the table, while Dru was in the bedroom looking for clothes.

Kit and Ty sat next to each other, their fingers intertwined under the table and their backs to the kitchen counter, which left Ash to sit across from Ty and Jaime to sit across from Kit. They had left a spot at the head of the table for Drusilla, who would have Ash on her left and Ty on her right when she came back.

Ty only had fruits on his plate, and he was eyeing Kit gulping his eggs down, as if he was reconsidering having some himself.

“Want to try?” Ash brought his fork to Ty, who flinched as if he had been stabbed.

Kit grabbed Ash’s wrist and pushed the fork away from Ty.

“Ty can use my fork if he wants to try it. He is my boyfriend, after all.”

Ash shrugged. “Yeah, no worries, I think I got that. You can tattoo it on your forehead, it will spare you from having to repeat it to every living soul you encounter on Earth.”

Ash glanced at Jaime, and said in a lower voice, directed only at him. “And it will keep other people from pining for someone they can’t have.”

“Excuse me?” Jaime turned to whisper in Ash’s ear. “What does it have to do with Dru and me?”

“I was not talking about Dru,” Ash whispered back.

They both jerked their heads up, as Dru swooped in from the bedroom then, wearing a beautiful red dress that Jaime remembered having seen on Cristina. It was much tighter on Dru, clinging to her curves and emphasizing her cleavage. Jaime swallowed. He couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on in his head.

Ash immediately stood to draw Dru’s chair and she nodded by way of thanking him. She sat on it as if it was a throne, her chin up.

Jaime glanced over at Ash, who seemed so free about his sexuality, and felt a pang of envy.

“So, what’s your deal, Ash?” Jaime blurted. Ash raised a questioning eyebrow at him. “Are you…” Jaime cleared his throat. “Bixesual?”

A slow grin spread across Ash’s face. “We’ve just met and you’re already trying to fill your fact sheet about me and tick one of your little boxes?”

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” Jaime said, feeling uncomfortable.

“I know you didn’t. Don’t get me wrong, I am not offended by your question,” Ash continued in a gentler voice. “It’s just that… not everyone can fit into little boxes.” He swiftly glanced at Ty when he said it. It was a flicker movement, but lynx-eyed Ty caught it immediately.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Tiberius said. “I am definitely gay.” He slipped half a banana inside his mouth then, totally oblivious of the gesture. Kit and Ash weren’t though. Kit made a noise between a snort and a chuckle and spilled the water he was drinking through his nose and all over his shirt, while Ash almost fell off his chair roaring with laughter. Dru looked at the boys with motherly affection.

Jaime stood and hurried to the kitchen to get a towel to clean the mess. When he turned, Kit was already there, leaning against the kitchen counter, extending his hand and looking at Jaime with a genuine smile that lit up his gorgeous face.

“Thanks, Jaime,” he said, as he grabbed the towel and started padding his shirt with it. The planes of his muscles stood out and could be seen right through the wet fabric.

“No problem,” Jaime mumbled, feeling his heartbeat increasing inside his chest.

He averted his gaze, past Kit, to the table, where Ty and Dru had their heads bent together, caught in a deep conversation.

Ash was peering around Ty, watching Jaime with amusement. When he caught Jaime gazing back, he stuck his tongue inside his cheek, and started moving his fist back and forth in front of his mouth, miming a blowjob.

Jaime resisted the urge to flip him the finger.

****

When breakfast was over, Dru lay sprawled on a sofa, her leg propped on Jaime’s lap, and Ash was examining the sound system, so he could put music on.

Kit and Ty had disappeared. God only knew where.

“So, what was that demon attack in the middle of Faerie about?” Jaime asked.

“Ty has a theory. And you won’t like it,” Dru replied. “He believes the Unseelie prince who held us hostage has made an alliance with a Greater Demon… probably a Prince of Hell.”

Jaime tensed. If Ty believed this, it was very bad news indeed. “So why send an army of demons to attack an ally?”

Dru twirled a lock of her dark brown hair as she replied. “Two options. Either the Prince of Hell discovered that his ally had been exposed and wanted to silence him. Or… or we will soon be caught in the middle of an internal war between the Princes of Hell.”

“You mean… there might be more than one involved?”

“To quote Ty, evidence makes it more likely than not,” Dru replied, imitating her brother’s voice. Jaime felt dread wash over him.

He gently put Dru’s leg on an armrest and excused himself.

Sometimes, he felt so anxious it was all he could do not to curl up in a corner and wait for his chest pain and dizziness to fade. The mission he had carried out a few years back, where he had to stay hidden all the time, never staying in one place, had made him jumpy, poised for any threat. He didn’t want Dru to see that side of him. For her, he could only be the calm and reliable friend she was used to.

He decided to scout the rest of the cottage for an empty room. There was a corridor - leading to a bathroom? more bedrooms maybe? - on the left side of the main suite’s door.

He went through and just as he turned around a corner... stopped short.

Halfway down the corridor, Ty was leaning with his back against the wall and Kit had his hands propped on either side of him, trapping Ty in a cage of his arms… and they were kissing.

Jaime had never seen two men kissing before and he was surprised to see how tender and sweet it looked. Ty was running his long pale fingers in Kit’s blond hair while the other hand rested on the small of Kit’s back, half of it concealed under Kit’s waistband.

Kit was naked from the waist up and Jaime could see all the tanned muscles in his back contract as he deepened the kiss, eliciting soft moans from the Blackthorn boy.

They were beautiful together, two opposites inevitably drawn to each other, their bodies fitting perfectly like yin and yang.

Jaime felt his whole body react, with a familiar flutter around his stomach and heat rushing up his cheeks. He knew he should not be watching, but he couldn’t get himself to tear his gaze away.

Kit broke the kiss to trace the dark Marks swirling up Ty’s neck with the tip of his tongue. Ty’s gray eyes fluttered open and he caught sight of Jaime. His intense gaze didn’t waver. He didn’t even seem surprised or angry. He simply raised an eyebrow at Jaime as if to say Can I help you with something ?

Jaime hastily retreated to the living room.

He found Ash’s lean figure perched on the wide low table at the center of the room, dancing to the blasting sound of Beyoncé’s Single Ladies and singing along. “If you like it, you should have put a ring on it,” actually sounded very good in his velvety voice. He was twisting, hands on his hips, and throwing his legs up like a professional, while making dramatic faces at Dru, who was sprawled on the sofa, howling with laughter. As he brushed his lips with his finger, licking it and started caressing his torso while throwing his head back, shaking his beautiful silvery hair, he managed to make it look erotic and not ridiculous at all. Jaime had to admit… His moves were perfect, fluid, coordinated and he totally… pulled it off. Annoying jerk.

“Having fun without me?” Kit burst into the room - he was, fortunately, wearing a shirt this time - and immediately hopped on the table to join Ash and one could not imagine they had been wrestling less than an hour before.

When Dru caught Jaime watching them, she patted the spot on the sofa next to her and he moved to drop beside her, throwing his arm around her shoulders.

The music had changed to Rihanna’s S&M and Ash and Kit were dancing together as if they had rehearsed for hours, their dance steps coordinated and smooth. They looked like two lifelong best buddies who could guess each other’s moves. They were pulsing with energy, although obviously neither of them had slept the previous night. Ash made a show of licking Kit’s cheek, and Kit pushed him away, grimacing. When Ash arched his back to rub his buttocks against Kit’s crotch and Kit spanked him, Dru wiped tears from her eyes. Jaime imagined what it would be like to go to a nightclub with the both of them. They would most likely steal the show.

As if on cue, the next song was… Stole the show, by Kygo. As they danced close together in perfect synchrony, Jaime noticed for the first time the similarities between Ash and Kit. Though Ash was all pale, white blond hair and alabaster skin, and Kit was all golden hair and tanned muscles, there was something about their facial features, the planes of their cheeks, the lines of their jaws… They did not look like brothers, but they could easily pass for cousins.

Jaime grabbed a Hot Shadowhunters calendar that had been left on the side table and started flipping through the pages. Looking at the January page featuring Jace Herondale, he wondered why everyone said Kit was like a mini Jace when Jaime could clearly see there was a difference, now that Kit had grown into more adult features. At least to Jaime, Kit’s fey heritage was plain.

When the music changed to Charlie Puth’s Marvin Gaye, Jaime turned his head to find Ty leaning against the kitchen counter and watching the two dancers with a bemused expression, his arms crossed over his chest.

He eventually caught Kit’s eye, lifted a questioning eyebrow, and jerked his head toward the bedroom door. Kit stumbled from the table in his hurry to join Ty and followed him out of the living room and through the main bedroom door, which shut behind them.

*****

Kit jumped on the huge threesome bed as soon as they were inside the bedroom. He felt exhilarated, full of adrenaline and restless energy, and he wanted Ty so much that he was certain he would spontaneously combust if they didn’t share their bodies within the next minute.

He shot Ty a smoldering look as he lounged on the thick mattress, twisting his shoulders seductively while singing along to Charlie Puth’s Marvin Gaye, which was blasting through the thin walls.

“We got this king-size to ourselves Don't have to share with no one else Don't keep your secrets to yourself It's Kama Sutra show and tell, yeah”

Ty had folded his arms against his chest and was shaking his head, as if he didn’t know what to make of this misbehaving boy.

“Kit, you interrupted me earlier when I was trying to have a serious conversation. Will you please let me finish this time?”

"I'm in trouble." Kit continued, clapping a hand over his mouth in a dramatic oops gesture. "But I'd love to be in trouble with you."

Ty rolled his eyes. He didn’t seem ready to play along with Kit, so Kit finally stood and grabbed Ty's upper arms, forcing him to back up until he had him pinned against the wall. He started wiggling his hips, rubbing against Ty, his body swaying to the music.

“You've got to give it up to me I'm screaming, "Mercy, mercy, please!" Just like they say it in the song Until the dawn, let's Marvin Gaye and get it on.”

Kit slipped a hand under Ty’s waistband, straight into his boxer shorts, and whispered “Hello there” as he brushed his lips against Ty’s ear.

“Kit…” Ty said sharply, as a warning, though Kit could hear his breathing was uneven.

“Ty,” Kit replied with all the seriousness he could muster. “When I saw you riding that Shinigami demon carrying a crossbow, I was so turned on it was all I could do not to jump your bones there and then.”

Ty laughed softly. “It appears you have a kink involving me wielding dangerous weapons. Maybe I should bring a claymore to bed next time and threaten you with it.”

“Honey, you know that, as far as I am concerned, you carry the deadliest weapon around with you at all times,” Kit started stroking Ty’s length as if to illustrate his point. It hardened under his touch. Good, we’re heading somewhere. "I was talking about your brain of course," Kit added.

“Kit, listen to me.” Ty grabbed Kit’s wrist and pulled it out of his pants. Kit groaned. “Haven’t you noticed anything strange about Ash?”

That caught Kit’s attention. He had not expected Ash to be the subject of their conversation. He had actually hoped to avoid any kind of conversation altogether. For a little while at least.

“Well, I noticed he is an amazing fighter and dancer. I am totally up for challenging him again, either in a training room or on a dancefloor.” There was something about Ash and him fighting and dancing together, a raw yet steady energy, not like the restlessness and all consuming love he felt around Ty, but something grounding him, making him even more focused. As if he had found a kindred warrior spirit.

“He probably has no effect on you, but… I think spells have been worked on him to render him… likeable. People are inevitably drawn to him, want to protect and follow him.”

Kit swallowed, suddenly deadly serious. “Does this… work on you?”

“No. And I have several theories about that. First… Well, I am a bit different. My brain doesn’t work the same way others’ do. Second, the Blackthorns have a bit of Greater Demon blood, even if it is quite diluted. I do believe Dru genuinely likes him.”

“You mean from your ancestor Lucie Herondale?”

Ty nodded. “And the third and most important explanation is… you. You have my full loyalty.” He rested his forehead against Kit’s. “There is no way in hell I am following him, when I could follow you. ”

Kit brushed his lips over Ty’s.

“What about Jaime? He seems to dislike Ash.”

“I am still trying to figure this out. But it may be one of the reasons I am immune to it, myself.”

“What? You think the Rosales have Greater Demon blood as well?”

“Maybe. But that’s not what I was referring to.”

They were both interrupted when they heard voices raising in the living room. Jaime’s voice was the loudest. And he sounded totally pissed.

Ty hurried toward the door, and Kit followed.

****

As soon as Kit and Ty had disappeared behind the bedroom door, Ash jumped over Dru and Jaime’s heads to land behind the sofa and stole the Hot Shadowhunters calendar from Jaime’s hands. “Hey!” Jaime cried out.

Ash circled back and dropped himself next to Dru, which left her crammed between him and Jaime. As he flipped to the first page, the January page, Ash froze. He was gaping at the picture of Jace Herondale, as if he could not quite believe his eyes.

Falling for Jace Herondale, already? What a surprise.

But oddly, Ash didn’t smile or make a sarcastic comment, as Jaime would have expected. He had a sorrowful expression and a faraway look.

“This is Jace Herondale,” Dru said softly. “Surely, even you have heard of him ?”

Ash swallowed. “Yeah,” he said absently. “Yeah, I have. He looks… happy.”

“Well, of course, he is happy. He has it all, hasn’t he?” Jaime said. “War hero. Married to the love of his life. The Consul as faithful parabatai.” Ash flinched, as if each word was a needle to his skin.

“Ash, is everything okay?”

Ash shook his head as if to clear it.

“Yeah, yeah, I was just thinking about… the butterfly effect. How a single human being’s existence… or absence, can change the course of things… can change the whole world.”

Where the hell did that come from? Jaime wondered.

Ash lifted his gaze to stare at the door where Kit and Ty had disappeared. “Take Kit for instance. Who knew it would only take a hot boyfriend to turn a ruthless, bloodthirsty ruler into a harmless kitten.”

“Er- Ash, I am not sure I am following you,” Dru said gently. “What do you mean?”

Ash let out a heavy sigh and slumped back, crossing his long arms behind his head, the Hot Shadowhunters calendar left at the January page on his lap.

“Nothing, I am rambling.” It looked like he was lost in his thoughts again.

Jaime seized the opportunity to whisper in Dru’s ear. “Dru, can we find some place private to… talk?”

Dru gazed at him with a puzzled look on her face. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

Jaime didn’t get a chance to answer as the entrance door rattled at that moment and they both whipped their heads in the direction of the noise.

The door opened and Mark Blackthorn, all tousled blond hair, pointy ears and flushed cheeks, erupted inside the cottage, wearing ragged jeans and a white shirt with a message that stated, “All good things come in threes”. He paused, as if he didn’t really expect to see so many people in his living room.

Jaime immediately withdrew his arm from Dru’s shoulders and stood, but soon registered that Mark was not looking at him… He was staring at Ash who had, from one moment to the next, leapt on the table in front of them and was crouched on top of it, ready to pounce, a dangerous glint in his ice green eyes. He had moved to protect Dru from a potential threat, Jaime realized. And there was no trace of the Ash that had been goofing around with Kit a moment before. The feeling that he had been played like a fool until then hit Jaime like a freight train. They had all fallen for Ash’s laid-back, good guy act. In one instant, Ash had revealed his true, predatory nature…

“Mark!” Dru waved from the sofa, unfazed. “You already know Jaime of course and this is Ash,” she introduced. “Ash… this is my brother Mark.”

Ash relaxed from his stance and leapt off the table, flashing a bright smile and wearing his cool guy mask back on. As if he hadn’t been ready to rip Mark’s throat a second before. The abrupt change in Ash's behaviour almost gave Jaime a whiplash.

“Have we… met before?” Mark asked, looking at Ash with his brows furrowed as he closed the door.

“In any event, I wish to be properly introduced,” Ash said, evading the question. “I am Dru’s boyfriend.”

“Excuse me?” Dru interjected at the same time Jaime exclaimed “WHAT?”

Ash shrugged. “I thought our make out session had settled it.”

Jaime felt heat rush up his face. He whirled on Dru. “We’ve known each other for three years and you’ve known this guy for what? Less than twelve hours? And you’ve already kissed him?”

“To be fair, I am the one who kissed her ,” Ash said in a calm voice. “She didn’t tell me to stop, though.” He paused, his long fingers stroking his delicate chin as he pondered. “Then again, how could she have, what with my tongue being down her throat and all?”

“Ash, don’t intervene,” Dru said, her already white complexion growing paler by the second. “This is not between us.”

“Really?” Ash answered in a fake shocked expression. “I could have sworn it was my tongue down your throat.”

“What’s going on here?” Ty asked as he came out of the bedroom, followed by Kit.

“GREAT!” Jaime said. “That’s just my luck! We’re just missing Julian and…”

“And?” Julian asked, his tall broad-shouldered figure appearing in the entrance. He froze in the doorway, hand on the doorknob, his face a mask of shock as his blue-green eyes swept across the room.

“... And all my worst nightmares are reunited in the same room. OK, let’s be done with it.”

Jaime took a deep breath and caught each of the Blackthorn brothers’ gaze, one after the other.

“I. FANCY. DRU. OKAY? I like her. I know she’s sixteen, but we are good together and I want her to be my girlfriend.”

*Cough* “ Too late.” *Cough* That was Ash. Dru turned to glare at him.

“Well, that’s not even relevant anymore, is it? Since apparently… She prefers Legolas, here.” Jaime continued, waving his hand toward Ash.

“Why does everyone keep saying that? I don’t even look like him.”

“Lego-who?” Ty asked, puzzled.

“He’s talking about Ash. Don’t worry honey, I’ll explain,” Kit said, speaking for the first time.

“And what the hell are you doing here?” Julian asked, turning toward Kit, a flicker of panic crossing his features.

“He just came out of the bedroom with Ty,” Mark said.

Kit lifted both his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t having sex with him,” he blurted. “I mean… not this time.” His face went red. “I mean- I am out of here. If anyone’s looking for me, I’m in the bedroom.” He whirled and paused in front of the bedroom door, his hand on the knob. “Not having sex with anyone...” he specified before he disappeared behind it.

Julian heaved a sigh and turned his gaze back to Ash.

Ash gulped. He looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights, his green eyes wide.

“This is not the end of it. But first things first. Can anyone tell me what the hell Ash Morgenstern is doing here?”

They had barely registered the question, when a sharp cry from behind Julian had them all jump. A slender figure peered around him, red hair like flames flowing over a green velvet dress embroidered with gold. Jaime had seen enough drawings and pictures of her to recognize her instantly. The Seelie Queen.

She pushed Julian aside and ran to Ash, throwing her thin pale arms around him and burying her face in his chest, the golden circlet around her head tipping to the side as she did. “Where were you last night? I came to the house, and it was empty . I have been looking for you everywhere since!”

Dru was staring at Ash open-mouthed. He shot her an apologetic look.

“Mom, let me introduce you to Dru. Dru…” Ash cleared his throat. “Meet my mom.”

*****

Tagging @gabtapia ❤️ Hope you'll enjoy it and, of course, don't hesitate to correct my spanish ;)

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gerbiloftriumph · 4 years ago

Photo

The Silence Between Snowflakes

(also on ao3) ~ 3/8 - The Stories That Really Matter

~*~*~

The storm was bigger than expected. Daventry woke to a fresh blanket of snow at least two feet high in places, and more still on the way. The guards grumbled and manned their shovels.

Rosella and Alexander sat in her room while the snow continued to fall, playing the new and improved Battle of Wits—when Valanice walked past, she could hear them laughing (laughing! Her boy, laughing!) and Alexander whimpering in pain as another arrow nicked his thumb. They were playing less to win as they were to hit each other, it sounded like.

Siblings.

After a hot lunch, Graham held his usual audience hours. He wasn’t sure if anyone would show up in this weather, but if anything major was impending he needed to know about it. Between the potential goblins and the endless snow, he was sure something would come up. Alexander quietly asked if he might try sitting in, too, to see what Graham did as a king. All those walks had done good, it seemed, sparking his curiosity. Graham was absolutely delighted, stocking the lad with blankets and hot drinks and making sure he had a good view in case people came.

And they did. Crusted with snow, peeling slushy gloves and scarves from their hands and faces, they came to make their reports. They were uneasy about the weather, primarily. It was too early in the season for this sort of thing, and Graham was quite sure it wasn’t going to ease up as the winter went on—his people felt the same.

“I just don’t know if we have enough wood stockpiled,” Amaya warned.

“Whisper is happy to collect more, but Whisper isn’t sure about being able to support the whole village,” Whisper added. “But Whisper has been emphasizing arm day, so Whisper can do it.”

Graham considered. They had some options: they should definitely cancel the annual huge marshmallow roast, that was easy enough. Perhaps they could also thin out some of the encroaching trees on Pillare Hill, if she would be amenable to that suggestion. She’d complained once about how gloomy her hill was starting to look, and clearing back some of the branches might brighten it again. He made a note to talk to her about it as soon as possible, told Whisper he wouldn’t need to do everything himself, and promised they could certainly keep warm for a good long while together no matter what.

The fear about the village roofs groaning under the snow was valid—one of the older houses on the edge of the wall had snapped under the pressure, timbers shedding snow inside the rooms. No one had been hurt, but Graham immediately dispatched a team of guards to clear the rest of the rooftops now, and invited the displaced villagers to stay in the castle.

Nervous questions about goblins were repeated again and again, and Graham listened patiently to each new worry. Concerns about consumables were constant. If they were stealing clothes, might they steal food next? What might happen if the flour ran low? If they dug their tunnels into the vegetable cellars? Graham ordered another fully updated inventory done of the castle’s holdings, and walked the villagers through the plans No1 had put together, careful to point out what each villager would find most relevant.

Bramble was especially apprehensive about the wedzels trying to break into town to escape the chill in the forests. She’d heard them howling in the forest in the night, thought she heard them prowling the streets outside her shop. Graham would have the gates reinforced and extra torches placed around the paths. He explained that they tended to scare away from blue-flamed light in particular; he had learned that in the knight tournament all those years ago. She smiled, satisfied with the response.

Hours whirled past like snowflakes. Graham stretched out the knots in his back between petitioners, glancing at Alexander to make sure he was comfortable. He was curled on the bench like a cat, watchful, with an unreadably blank expression as he absorbed everything his father did. Every word he spoke, every movement of his hand.

They were prepared. Daventry was capable of surviving even the bleakest winters, Graham knew. But it wouldn’t be easy, and the wary looks on his citizens’ faces told him they knew it wouldn’t be, either. And if the second half was worse than this first, then they would want to start getting ready now.

“What did you think?” Graham asked later, breaking open a heel of bread and dipping it in his soup. No standing on ceremony or manners on a frozen night when there was no one but his family around him. The fireplace crackled and snapped behind him, pouring blessed heat into the informal dining hall.

“Interesting,” Alexander said. “You’re...very patient.” The unspoken words: Unlike Manannan.

“I’ve got to be,” Graham said. “You’ll hear a lot of the same questions again and again, but you’ve got to give them all your full attention like they’re the first person to have brought it up. It helps them trust you, shows that you’ll listen, that you’ll care. I’m not sure every other kingdom works like that, but this one does.”

“Still,” Valanice said distractedly, swirling her spoon through her bowl, “this is the strangest winter I can remember. I wonder what the Hobblepots would have had to say about this—maybe it’s like this every hundred years?”

“They weren’t that old,” Graham protested. “Still. I’ll have a look through the history books. If there’s anything like this, it’ll be mentioned somewhere, I’m sure.” And maybe give me some clue about what might happen next.

“It’s good for snowmen,” Rosella said, mouth full of bread. “Packs together really well.”

“Hard to shovel,” No2 groaned, wincing, as he carried a pitcher of water around the table. “I’m going to feel that for a week.”

“Someone needs to make sure you stay in shape,” No1 said drily from his post near the door.

Graham smiled. “I asked Olfie about hiring him and Pillare to scoop out the main roads. That should free up the guards for patrols and other tasks.”

“I can’t imagine she was best pleased at that.” No2 gently put the pitcher back on the serving board.

“As compensation, she wants the castle to fund an order with Acorn for a new winter cap and matching gloves. She wants embroidery. Birds, is what I heard last. She keeps changing her mind. It’s going to take ‘til the end of winter to get it done, Acorn says.”

“Her hands are as big as he is!”

“It’s a good challenge, is what I told him,” Graham said. “He’s even looking forward to it, I think.”

Outside, the snow continued to drift.

~*~*~*~

“Alexander.”

He didn’t look at Rosella. His chin was in his hands, and he was staring out the window with a look of intense thoughtfulness, mulling over something. His lips were moving as he thought, but he made no sound.

“Alexaaaander.”

Still nothing.

Very quietly, not sure it would work or should even be said: “Gwydion?”

He instantly leapt to his feet and tumbled into a haphazard bow, all awkward limbs and nervous babble, “Yessir, sorry, sir, what can I do—oh. Um. Sorry, hi. Sorry.”

“Oh no, no, no, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, I didn’t think that you’d...I’m so sorry. But. Look, Alexander, are you okay? You’ve been sitting there for at least twenty minutes. I’ve walked past twice and tried to talk to you each time and you haven’t noticed.”

It had felt like just a minute or two. “Fine.”

“You’ve got this look on your face, though. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“Yes.”

She leaned against the bookcase. “What’s the question?”

“Sorry?”

“You always have some question about Daventry when you get that look. So, what is it? I bet I know the answer.”

He looked down at his hands. “I’m trying to figure out what this means,” he admitted, and he thumped his fist into his open palm. “The king...uh, Dad does it a lot. Especially before audience hours. I just...is it some spell, or something?” It didn’t feel magical, and he was quite sure he would be able to tell, but maybe he had missed something.

“Oh! No, no, that’s an Achaka salute.”

“A...a what? Ah—chaka?”

“You’ve been here for weeks and you haven’t heard that story yet? Dad’s slipping. Here, let me introduce you.” She went to the entrance hall, Alexander lagging behind her a few paces. “This,” she said, gesturing widely, “is Achaka.”

Alexander looked around, but the only person here was Royal Guard Number Two standing post by the door, and Alexander was quite sure his name was Matt. Not that he was supposed to call the royal guards by their real names. Rosella had told him everyone’s names but had also mentioned that No1 was pretty big on formal protocol, which made Alexander immediately want to forget them so he couldn’t make a mistake. Regardless. Not Achaka. He looked again, and then realized. “The statue?”

“Well, the real Achaka died ages ago. Waaay back when Dad first came to Daventry. They met, and Achaka helped him get through the Knight Tournament that Dad needed to win if he wanted a chance at being king. So, they were looking for an eye, ‘cos Number One said they had to have one for their entrance tickets, and Achaka hadn’t come back to turn his in, and there was this dragon, and...” she stopped, and looked at the statue. “This is a boring way to tell the story. Dad does it so much better.”

“Pardon me, Princess Rosella,” No2 said, leaning forward. “I think I know a better way to tell it.”

Ten minutes later, Rosella, Alexander, and No2 were tearing the sitting room apart, putting cushions here and there to represent different cave entrances, building up a little maze of small spaces, all the while explaining the backstory of what was going on to Alexander. Rosella handed him a decorative bowl and said, “This can be a glowing mushroom, so you can put that wherever you want.”

Royal Guard Number One said from the door, “What are you doing?” Alexander froze, almost dropping the bowl in his sudden nervousness.

“Oh! Number One!” Rosella clapped her hands. “Excellent! Will you help us?”

No1 stared at the mountain of pillows they’d stacked precariously by the window. It was teetering madly, and looked like breathing on it wrong would knock the whole thing over. “Help?”

No2 got to his feet. He’d been tying curtain pulls together to make one long cord. “We need you to be Achaka,” he said.

“...I’m sorry, I must repeat myself. What are you doing?”

“Reenacting the dragon attack for Prince Alexander. We wanted to explain what an Achaka salute was, and this is a better way of doing it, we thought. More...emotional.” No2 surveyed the pillow pile, and then began climbing.

“Indeed. And you want me to play...”

No2 swayed to keep his balance while tying the rope he’d made to the top of the window frame. “Achaka, yeah. You don’t have to say anything, or really do much. Except maybe you can say ‘Achaka’ if you really want to get into it. Otherwise, you can just stand there looking stern. Pretend to shoot an arrow. That’s probably about it for the most part.”

“Right. And who are you playing in this...?”

“Young Graham, of course.” No2 slid down the pillow mountain. “For my bubbly and likeable personality and terrific bouts of energy.”

“I’m the dragon,” Rosella interjected.

“Of course you are,” No1 said.

“Raaar.” She made a face and held her fingers up like claws, then broke down giggling, enjoying herself tremendously.

No2 clasped his gauntlets together and made a pleading sort of noise. “Please, Number One, it’s for the young prince’s sake. We wouldn’t ask you otherwise.”

“Yes, Number Two, you would. And have. And I refused last time, too.”

“Yeah, but this time it’s for a good cause.”

“The radish eating contest opening ceremony was ‘for a good cause,’ too,” he said, sharply.

“It was, though.”

“Please, Number One,” Rosella added, putting on her brightest diplomatic smile.

Alexander fidgeted with the bowl behind them, watching. There was no way. He’d seen how No1 acted around the other guards. Seen how stiff and stern he was, how dry and sarcastic and...

About ten minutes later, King Graham walked past the room. He froze mid step, then walked backward past the door again, staring at the bizarre tableau in the sitting room. No1 was standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed, looking like he was regretting every single decision he’d ever made in his life, while Rosella clung to his leg, pretending to bite it. No2 was running across the room holding onto a curtain rope as though he was swinging on it, and Alexander was supervising the whole thing from a pile of cushions in the corner, an audience of one.

“What are you doing?”

“Ah, Your Majesty. This...” No1 glanced at the disarray, at the princess clawing at his boot, and said, dry as bone in an unquestionable tone, “Training. We’re trying out a new form of training.”

“Rosella, is that your mother’s green eye makeup all over your cheeks?”

“No, of course not. It’s the lighting in here, it’s very dim,” Rosella said, from around No1’s leg. The room was perfectly lit with that bright, cold, sunshine-on-snow white light, what with the curtains held open with cushions. The curtain ties were all clutched in No2’s hands, a single long cord that looked like a vine in his hands. Or an escape rope.

Graham took a second look, and then dawning realization crossed his face. He grinned. “So, I’m going to guess Number Two is me?”

“Got it in one, Sire,” No2 said cheerfully. “On account of my bubbly and likeable personality and terrific bouts of energy.” (No1 couldn’t quite stop his exasperated sigh.)

“Naturally. I wouldn’t expect anyone else.” Graham looked at Alexander. “Does this...performance make any sense?”

“Um.”

“I think you need a narrator to actually explain what you’re doing to your audience,” Graham said to the three actors. “Shall we take it from the top?” He smiled. “Let me tell you a story. A story about what it means to be brave even when you don’t think you can be, even when you’re facing the biggest threat imaginable. Ready?”

~*~*~*~

A castle couldn’t be stuffy. It was huge, with spiraling passages and enormous rooms and high ceilings. It was full of the hustle and bustle of people, but it was easy enough to find quiet little corners and stay away from everyone.

But Alexander still felt hemmed in. As the weeks turned to months, as the calendar spun deeper into winter, it started feeling even more claustrophobic, somehow. Surrounded by choking tapestries and detailed paintings of people he didn’t know and endless rows of doors lining labyrinthian hallways. The walks with the king helped him feel less trapped, but he started slipping out by himself whenever he could. It was weird to have the freedom to go wherever he wanted whenever he wanted. No one ever stopped him or demanded to know what he was doing. No one ever watched him.

Except...someone was watching him now. He felt the familiar prickle on the back of his neck, a sense he’d refined over the years living with...that wizard. He pushed down the forest path a little faster, trying to act uncaring like he figured a prince probably should be. Most of the trails were too snowed under to walk, but someone had been keeping this one fairly clear—he realized he was about to find out who.

“Your form is all wrong,” a voice called out.

Alexander skidded to a stop, slipping in the snow. “I’m...sorry?”

“You’ll never manage to get to a decently paced jog with that sort of biscuit placement. You’ll trip over your toes. You must build up to the more intensive leg days, but if you haven’t got a good form, you’re defeating yourself.”

It was a booming, boisterous, braggy sort of voice. Alexander nervously stepped back a pace. “Have we met?”

“Surely you haven’t forgotten Whisper!” The voice was offended now.

“Oh. Oh!” Usually, Alexander had the shield of the king or his sister to hide behind when one of the Daventry citizens approached. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now, by himself, without their cues. “Sorry. Whisper. Of course.” He clamped his mouth shut again, afraid he was going to do something wrong.

The knight was leaning against a directional signpost. “This is Whisper’s jogging trail,” the knight said, thumbing at the well-trodden path. He had earmuffs on over his helmet, which seemed entirely to defeat the purpose of earmuffs. “Whisper is more than happy to share the traffic, but only if the traffic stays in the correct lane. You aren’t ready for the fast track yet, Prince Alexander. Not with that mediocre run.”

“Oh, please, not...not Prince. I’m just…just Alexander. And I wasn’t actually running,” Alexander said warily. “I was only walking. I can, um. Walk somewhere else, though. Good...good day?” He tried a nervous little half bow and started to creep down the path.

“Aaah, wait, wait, wait!” Whisper said, standing in Alexander’s way. “Come now, if you have forgotten Whisper, then that simply isn’t good! We have yet to exchange tales of bravery, because had you heard such a tale then you could not have forgotten me!”

“I don’t have any tales of bravery, though,” Alexander said, sidestepping into the snow. “It’s, uh, good to see you again, Whisper. I’ll just...”

“But your tale is the bravest of them all,” Whisper said, and now he seemed confused. “Isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Grand escapes, magic, dragons—”

“—there wasn’t actually a dragon. I don’t know why everyone keeps thinking there was a dragon.”

“Oh. But. Dragons add such a spice to a story. Perhaps we should add one.”

“I’d rather not.”

“I can help you pen your tale, if needed,” Whisper offered. “Whisper is good at adding outlandish details that grab your audience’s attention and whirl them through the tale!” He leapt from place to place as he spoke, making elaborate hand gestures, and then added, much more quietly, “Even if the tale isn’t strictly true.”

“I’d really rather not,” Alexander repeated. “Thank you, but another time.”

“Whisper shall be here! Whisper is always here! Unless Whisper is with Amaya, and then Whisper is in town. With Amaya. You understand, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Have you met the beautiful lady Amaya?” Whisper asked, fully distracted and starting up the conversation again as though they hadn’t just been moving through the niceties of farewell. “She is most delicate. The sweetest flower, the fluffiest cloud, the tallest peak, to be adored. The finest, most talented, most clever lady in all the lands! Her stories shall be trumpeted from the mountaintops! By yours truly, of course,” he added, pointing to himself so hard that his thumb bounced off his chest plate with a metallic ringing sound.

“Delicate,” Alexander repeated, wondering if he was thinking of someone else. Maybe there were two Amayas in town. The one he had briefly met could hammer together an iron gate without breaking a sweat. But maybe there were different types of delicate?

“I shall expect you to carry on her tale as well,” Whisper said earnestly. “A tale must be retold by many to become a legend, and once it is a legend, then it creates immortals, and my dear Amaya shall indeed be an immortal legend! Like me. But first you must hear the stories, since you have not lived them with us. And then we shall work on your own tale.”

Expectations. Stories. Things he didn’t know.

He thought about the story the king had told about Achaka. What that story had meant. Daventry, as far as Alexander could tell, thrived on the power of tales, perhaps in part because of its leader and his delight with words. But Alexander didn’t know any of the stories himself, and he didn’t want to tell the one that he had survived.

The problem was that everyone knew each other so well already. He felt like an intruder crashing in on a story in the third act, an audience member trying to fill in the gaps of a play after they’d missed most of it.

No one had said anything to him about it yet, but he had felt a weight of expectation settling on his shoulders the moment he’d woken up in that sickbed with his family hovering over him. His family that, incidentally, happened to be royalty. He was heir to a throne he hadn’t even known about until a few months ago. Daventry had been a name written on a map in the wizard’s office with throwing darts embedded in it, and that was about it.

Until now.

Now, he could sense the confidence from its people that he would learn the stories and tend to it, like King Graham did now. That Alexander would continue his father’s legacy. His story.

He had gone outside of the castle to get away from the sense of being tied down, from the tapestries and the paintings and the weight of hundreds of years of leadership. All the stories, endless and complicated and wrapped together and important to its people.

But the expectation of stories had followed him out here, too. Whisper was certain Alexander would listen and understand. The knight was watching him with a puppy’s eagerness, excited to explain why he loved the blacksmith so much, another story to Daventry’s history, another tale that Alexander should already know. That he would have known, if he hadn’t been in Llewdor, been a different person.

There was guilt, and frustration, and a desire to know, all shoved into a box in his mind that he dared not open.

Alexander could probably understand these people and their needs, but Gwydion definitely couldn’t. He didn’t know any good tales. He wasn’t good at playing games. He wasn’t even coordinated, apparently, as Whisper had pointed out. And he was terrified everyone was going to find out that he wasn’t a prince, wasn’t even “just” Alexander, that he was still Gwydion.

After hearing Graham’s story about Achaka, Alexander had gone to the tallest tower he could find in the castle. Standing there, alone, looking out at the snow-covered country, thinking of the expectations that were starting to press on his shoulders, he had tried out the salute. It hadn’t felt like anything at all. It had felt pointless. Graham had said it was supposed to help center you and help you find courage, but he still felt lost and afraid.

If he’d been Prince Alexander, someone who belonged there, maybe things would be different. But Gwydion didn’t deserve the salute. Didn’t deserve to be in Daventry.

Still.

Whisper wanted to tell him a story right now. And enough stories, enough knowledge, could change things. He had taught himself magic and escaped the wizard’s manor. Maybe more stories about Daventry would help him escape Gwydion. And, cautiously, he nodded. He let Whisper tell him another story, and he listened, and he learned.

~*~*~*~

Gwendolyn lifted her head. “Grandpa? Did Dad really say all that?”

Graham smiled. “Later, he did mention some conversation with Whisper, and the general gist of it. I confess, I wasn’t there. Storyteller’s discretion, you know.” He sipped a glass of water and waited for her to continue. She had a look on her face that said she was possibly finally ready to explain what had been bothering her earlier.

“It’s just.” She had been sitting on the bed, holding the canopy’s bedpost and running her fingers along the carvings as she listened, but now she slipped down, wandering toward the fireplace. “It’s just. That’s. Kinda what Gart said to me.”

“What did he say?”

“That I don’t belong here.” She sank into the rocking chair and started kicking herself back and forth, back and forth, while Graham blinked, at a complete loss for words for the first time that night. “He said...that I shouldn’t be too comfortable, that I’d be going back to the Green Isles with Dad again soon. I don’t think he meant to be mean about it. I think. I don’t know what I think. I don’t think he likes me in Daventry very much.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Graham said, after a pause. There was anger in his voice, a sharpness that felt too cold for the storytime bedroom.

“Please, don’t!” Gwendolyn said, looking up quickly. “I don’t want him to know that I took it wrong. It was probably just nothing. Just talking.”

Just shouting, if I remember correctly, Graham thought.

“I do belong in the Green Isles, though, he’s right.” She drew her legs up onto the chair, squeezing herself into a little ball, and dropped her head onto her knees again, staring at the floor.

“You belong wherever you want to be, my dear,” Graham said, gently. He cursed his weak knees and broken arm and inability to rise and go to her, like he would have gone to her father. “It can be here, there, or anywhere. We Crackers are pretty good at figuring out who we are and going where we’re needed.”

She hesitated. Then, clearly wanting to go back to the story and stop talking about personal things, she said, “So...what happened after that?”

Graham distractedly pushed away thoughts of his grandson and spread his arms (arm, singular, the other being broken) wide, and said, “The snow kept on falling.” And the story continued.

~*~*~*~

“I don’t understand this,” Valanice sighed, standing by the bedroom window and rubbing her arms through her night robe.

As the days faded and weeks stretched, the blanket of snow grew yet deeper. The trolls were making good on their promise to keep the main roads clear, but it was like walking through gray tunnels to get anywhere. Graham felt like his castle tower was an island above puffy clouds. This reminded him of the tower he’d been trapped in with Valanice and...well, Valanice, the two princesses who shared the same name. The day the tower had walked through a cloud and soaked them all had been quite an experience, leaving all three spluttering and shivering and laughing. He missed the warmth of those spring days.

“Maybe the villagers should all come here,” he said, wrapping his arm around her and squeezing her close in front of him, his chin resting on her shoulder as he studied the white expanse. The clouds had broken and the sun was peeking over the horizon, making the whole thing blindingly glittery. But rather than feel cheered by it, Graham felt apprehension in his stomach. The clouds would roll in again, as they had for days. This wouldn’t even begin to melt before another layer would come down. “I don’t want anyone to get snowed in to the point where they can’t take care of themselves.”

“I’m not sure they’ll agree to that,” Valanice said. “That feels like giving up.”

“It’s weather. There’s nothing to fight, and the only puzzle is how we shore up our own supplies,” Graham pointed out. He reached toward the window panes with his free hand, feeling the icy chill against his skin.

“They won’t feel that way, and you know it.”

“Soon, though, I might have to make that decision for them.”

“At least the goblins can’t strike in this,” she said, sighing. “Their escape tunnels are probably all plugged up with snow.”

“Small blessings,” Graham said, and kissed her cheek.

It had been cold (of course it had been, it was winter), but Graham's breath caught as soon as he stepped outside. The chill was so much more than expected, a bone deep ache. Despite the weak sunlight, the cold sank into his chest and made him want to cough. His breath appeared as dragon-smoke, white bellows preceding his every step. He tugged a scarf over his nose, which helped a little bit, and went to find No1.

More than the cold, more than the daily snow: the silence unnerved him most. Graham felt the stillness like a blanket around his ears. The recent threat of goblins had roused up old nightmares, and the silence of his beloved kingdom, normally so crowded with birdsong, squirrel chatter, music, life, even in winter—it reminded him of his goblin cell. Of the shadows and the stillness. Of the fear that laced his every echoing step. Of impossibilities and distress.

Valanice was right: so far, the only good result from this weather was a lack of goblins. There hadn’t been any signs of attack since the missing winter clothes and ice picks. Which meant that Graham hadn’t needed to travel down those tunnels to see the goblin king. At least, not yet. Should another instance happen, Graham knew he would have to set that appointment, and the very idea made his throat threaten to close. But he would do it, if he needed to.

Stars, I hope I don’t need to.

“Report, Number One?” Graham said, once he’d found the guard huddled over a cup of tea near the drawbridge. His mittened hands clutched the mug like someone was trying to take it from him, and he was curled over it to hold in every trace of warmth. His earmuffs were slipping.

“Not much to report, Sire. Just snow. Incredibly unexpected and surprising, I’m sure.” No1 sighed, his breath mingling with the steam of his tea and creating a white cloud that instantly froze in his mustache. “I rather think—” He cut himself off and saluted stiffly, “Sir, apologies, the cold makes me forget myself. I was thinking aloud.”

“Feels like?” Graham pressed. No1’s intuition was always sharp and frequently accurate.

“It’s nonsense, hardly worth the effort of saying it. And yet. It feels like something’s coming, Your Majesty. There’s a center to this storm, and it’s getting closer. Which is ridiculous, and I’ll thank you for not repeating it. The sort of fanciful thinking one of the younger staff might have. Who ever heard of menacing weather?”

“Stranger things have probably happened,” Graham said. “I wonder...”

“It’s colder today than it was yesterday. And there’s more snow than there was the day before. Keeping this only between us, Sire, it’s keeping me awake at night wondering if maybe I’m right.”

“You know, I really, really hope you aren’t,” Graham said, and the two men stared out across the snow hiding everything as far as the eye could see.

#i confess i can't decide: should ch4 go up thursday in place of a standard illustrated gerbil or should it wait until monday #should we just get all ye fic out quickly or alternate posts? any preferences out there?#kings quest #King's Quest #King Graham #rosella (king's quest)#alexander (king's quest)#neese #vee #this post is protected by the royal guards #fic'ing #ch4 #whisper (king's quest)

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dumbledamnn · 3 years ago

Text

Party Like It's 1974 (Ch.1)

Characters: Marauders, OCs

Pairings: Remus x fem!OC, Marlene x Dorcus, Lily x James

Word Count: 3810

Warnings: Language

Summary: Kat and Emma go to Hogwarts in 1974 lol

For the workers at Platform 9 ¾, there were only two true days of work a year. The first was in June, a day they like to call the Day of Withdrawal. This is the day when all the menacing adolescent children return to their parents for the summer holiday. Some quick-witted station worker coined this phrase when they noticed all the parents looked as if they had finally succumbed to their separation anxiety while all the kids looked like they could use a butterbeer.

The second falls at the start of September and was dubbed the Day of Frenzy. Though just as many people came in June as they did in September, the latter is significantly more chaotic. The Day of Frenzy is the day that all the incoming students board the Hogwarts Express and take off towards their next year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The frenzy is fueled by the reunions of overjoyed upperclassmen, the nose-blowing cries of parents as they wave goodbye to their babies, and the panic of first-years who simply don’t know what’s going on.

Unfortunately for the platform workers, today is the first of September and the station is filled to the brim with black cloaks and trolley carts. One could barely hear the conductor announce the countdown till take off over the hustle and bustle of students.

Amid the people, a fourth-year meanders through the crowd with her cart. She glances around, hoping to catch a glimpse of a familiar face. There are so many people and the heat is practically rising off the floor. She rolls up her black sleeves and shoves her circle glasses back to the top of her nose.

She is a sweet-looking girl whose entire complexion screams her Irish heritage. Her freckles are like hundreds of dots of color on her otherwise pale skin. Her black hair stands out, tied back in braided pigtails.

She tries again, surveying the crowd as she pushes her cart along. She realizes that driving blindly was a bad idea as she collides with another cart, sending their luggage straight into each other.

“Vidor! Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” The girl rushes to the point of collision. She picks up her owl, poking at it. The bird, Vidor, shakes its feathers and gently shrieks. The girl lets out half a sigh of relief, interrupted by her realization that Vidor wasn’t the only victim of this accident.

“I’m so- wait what the-” She whips around to face the other cart but finds no one at the wheel.

“EMMA!” two voices harmonize in a horrific shriek from behind her. Emma barely flinches as she turns to face her surprisers, a wide grin on her face.

“James! Sirius! Hi!” She tackles them with a bear hug. The two, stand for a second, partially stunned by her hug and partially stunned by her lack of response. Finally, they succumb to her hug, their confused looks mixing in with the joy of seeing an old friend.

“How the hell did you not react to that?” James begins to laugh at the absurdity that is Emma.

She shrugs, finally letting the two breathe.

“My brain, empty, no thought, can’t be surprised cause nothing is going on up there.” The girl points at her head and begins to laugh with James.

“Emma is an enigma. It’s better not to question it.” Sirius slings his arm around Emma’s shoulders, grinning.

“So how are you guys? How was your summer?” Emma looks at the two boys. Her smile is huge and her eyes gleam with excitement. Her expectant looks are met with a bit of hesitation as the two boys look at each other. Were they caught off guard or was that an awkward glance?

A faint “Sonorus” drifts across the crowd before the train conductor’s voice interrupts every conversation in the station.

“Five more minutes till departure! Students, say your goodbyes and board the train!”

“Later then.”James gives a short smile before making his way back over to their converging carts. He wiggles his finger in front of Vidor before pulling his stuff briskly off of Emma’s.

The three walk across the platform, dropping their luggage off at the back of the train. They head to the front, maneuvering through the departing families till they climb the stairs to their next year.

The Hogwarts Express smells like candy. It tastes like sugar sticks and pumpkin pasties. It feels like faded velvet and leather briefcases, like an old museum with framed strangers promising a worthwhile trip and nick-nacks whose purpose was lost years ago.

Led by James, the three push through hugs and trunks to get to a row of open carts in the back. Through the foggy glass, you could make out which ones were occupied and which were already full of other eager students.

Cabin A is occupied by Maegen Locke and her Hufflepuff friends. The cart fills with cheers as she reveals a king of clubs. A group of sorrowful first years hands her their Licorice Lace as the cards begin to shuffle themselves.

The practically silent Cabin B is the current reading spot of a Ravenclaw couple. Though they are facing each other, they are too engrossed in their reading to mind each other’s presence.

The Slytherins seem to have claimed Cabins C-F as their territory, each cart filled with bitter hisses and judgemental glares. As they pass, Sirius and Emma make sure to return the favor to each individual.

The next set of carts are home to less noise than the front. Scattered amongst them are pairs of friends or lonely individuals hoping for a friendly face. James breezes past, tossing a quick glance into each window. He is searching for someone. Emma and Sirius trail behind, still mocking the rather irritating Slytherin they had just passed.

James finally halts in front of Cabin M as another announcement fills the train.

“One minute till take-off. Hurry up and board the train! We’ve got places to be people.”

“Feeling rather sassy today, isn’t he?” Sirius chuckles.

“I support him. I would too if I had this job.” Emma gives a sympathetic nod towards the speaker. “Keep on keeping on Mr. Conductor.” Sirius lets out a yelp of laughter.

Suddenly, Cabin M swings open. Two heads at very different heights pop out. The first, and lowest, is a soft and round look boy with blotchy cheeks and fluffy-looking hair. He smiles a very toothy grin at the new company. The second towers above the first, a more defined face decorated with freckles and faded scars. His hair curls down into half circles, matching the slight curve of his pointed nose.

“Hi, guys!” The shorter one bursts into the hallway. He is radiating excitement.

“Hey Pete, Hi Remus.” James ruffles Peter’s hair and enters the cabin, throwing himself down by the door.

“Remus, you got here early? Hey Peter!” Sirius follows after James, also patting Peter on his head like a house cat. Peter is glowing from the affection.

“Hi Peter,” Emma skips the pat but offers a quick hug instead. He is warm and soft like a gentle bear. He scuttles back into the cabin taking his seat between Sirius and James.

“Hi!” Emma’s face flushes ever so slightly after making eye contact with Remus.

“Hey,” His voice is gentle as he motions for her to enter into the cart. “Ready for another year?”

”Hell yeah!”

It’s barely 11 am and Emma’s mouth already hurts from smiling. Her stomach is flipping with excitement in a mix of nervous butterflies and overwhelming joy. Her mouth is producing way more saliva than it normally does.

She takes a seat next to Remus by the window. Outside, the platform, now void of students, is filled with waving parents.

“Last call. If you haven't boarded yet, I swear to God.” The conductor’s voice sharply carries into the cabin. His mood has decreased significantly in the past fifteen minutes.

The boys begin talking about future pranks and first classes while Emma stares out the window. Normally she would be absolutely engrossed in the conversation but something was bothering her. Her eyes darted across the rows of parents, searching for the bother.

Emma has this special skill, a spidey sense of sorts. When it comes to people, she can read them like books. Some people use auras or zodiac signs but nothing is as certain as Emma’s instincts. They were, for better or worse, never wrong.

In all honesty, though, her instincts span farther than just reading people. Directions, decisions, the right places to eat. One time last year, she was the only one not in the mood for pie (something very unusual for her) and she was the only one to avoid food poisoning. All to say, right now, her instincts are telling her that something was missing and she knew exactly what it was.

The train chugs out a burst of air and the wheels begin to squeak.

“Wait a second,” Emma says, turning towards the door of the cabin. “I swear to god if she is late for this.”

The train begins to move, a light chug on the tracks, before screeching to a sudden stop. The group lurches forward at the sudden stall. Outside the cabin and down the hall, a girl boards and begins offering a slew of apologies to the other students.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! That’s my bad. I didn’t mean to.” Emma’s mouth drops as Sirius howls in laughter. Peter’s eyes dart around in slight confusion.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” James cackles as he opens the door to their cabin. He waves his hand towards the girl down the hall.

“James! Hi!” she says before turning towards some glaring Slytherin. “Sorry about that.”

She quickly walks down the hall to Cabin M, rushing into the seat beside Remus before the train picks up speed and shoots down the tracks.

“Kat, I literally called you this morning, I, how? How are you late? Why?” Emma leans over Remus to stare down at her friend. Sirius calms his laughter down while the others wait for a response.

Kat breathes heavily. Her cloak is sagging by her elbows and her brow is furrowed in sweat. The extra time she took to get to the platform might have been used to do her hair. Unfortunately, the rush has made her space buns sag on the side of her head. Loose strands curl around the frame of her face.

“I,” she breathes heavily, “couldn't decide what to wear.”

The boys snicker slightly, but Emma’s face scrunches in even further confusion.

“We have...a uniform?” She questions, glancing down at Kat, who is wearing the same thing as everyone else in the cabin.

“I realized that...an hour too late…” She trails off, glancing around at the boys. She notices they are all stifling smiles at the sheer stupidity of the situation. The Hogwarts Express has never been more than a second late until now. It was almost an impressive feat.

“Oh my god.” Emma lets out a disappointed mom sigh but she can’t stay in character. She starts to laugh, allowing the others to finally break as well.

Kat sighs, still trying to get some oxygen in her lungs before taking off her cloak and shoving it to the corner of the seat. The train is much cooler than the station but the cold September air was not enough to stop the pool of sweat from the run to Platform 9 ¾.

“So, how was everyone’s summer?” Kat asks as the laughter dies down.

“Hung out at James’ for most of the summer.” Sirius pulls out his wand and starts to weave it between his fingers. “I thought I’d get a break from the snoring but alas.”

James punches Sirius in the side, stopping Sirius from laughing at his own joke.

“He helped me with my quidditch training. This year, I’m gonna kick some Hufflepuff ass. Wait, Emma, did you say you were gonna try out this year?”

“Yup! I want to be a beater so I can smack the shit out of everything.” James and Emma high five. Remus giggles but quickly goes back to his nonchalant grin.

“My mum and I went to the Quidditch World Cup.” Peter’s soft and mousy voice fills the pause.

James shoots up in his seat, excitement on his face. “Oh yeah, I heard about that. You were there?”

Peter, motivated by James’ interest, begins to ramble. “I was! Everyone snuck in these things called dissimulators that puffed up colored smoke. It was mad. At first, there weren’t that many people in the crowd but the more colored smoke puffed up, the larger the crowds grew. Then suddenly, halfway through the match, all their dissimulators turned into their wands. It turns out they snuck them in despite the new code. There were so many of them that the guy in charge just quit then and there. It was crazy!”

“Hell yeah! Fuck the system! Idlewind sucked ass. God, I wish I could've seen it.” James raises his fists in a fuck-the-system type of way.

James is the current Gryffindor seeker. He is the best seeker the team has ever seen since the early 1900s. Ever since his first year, he brought the team countless victories making Gryffindor undefeated since 1971.

“What about you Rem?” Sirius nods towards the quiet giant.

“I read a few books. My family and I traveled to Paris for a weekend in May. It was pretty fun. Oh! I forgot.” Remus stands up and snatches a briefcase from the storage above. He flips over the leather flap and starts digging around. He pulls out a stack of Parisian postcards and begins to deal them out to his friends.

The girls almost synchronically say “Awe!”

Sirius lets out a genuinely excited “Nice.” as he inspects the image. “I love muggle things.”

“Anyways, what about you guys?” Remus glances at the two girls sitting beside him as he tucks his briefcase above.

Kat nods her head to Emma as a signal for her to go first.

“Me?” Emma points to herself.

“Yes, you,” Kat says in a mom-ish tone.

“I’m just making sure.”

“Who else would I be-”

“Ladies. Though I love a good catfight, is someone gonna answer the question?” Sirius interjects, finally tucking his postcard into his cloak.

Emma kicks Sirius in the shin. “I’m telling Marlene you said that.” Sirius’s eyes go wide in slight fear as Emma starts to recall her summer.

“My family and I went camping all over Ireland. We took an RV and went everywhere, ending at my Grandparent’s house.”

“Awe that sounds so-” Kat tries to say but Emma wasn’t done.

“And then we got absolutely schwasted with my relatives.”

“O-Oh.”

Emma smiles sincerely and turns to face Kat, ready for her summer wrap-up. However, the rest of the gang is cackling. Sirius’s distracting deep-voiced Hyena laugh almost masks Remus’s sweet giggles. Peter snorts softly while James laughs like a politician. Kat just huffs out air.

After a bit of laughter, Kat finally answers the question.

It is worth mentioning that, though Kat attends Hogwarts, she’s not quite like the others. Besides the fact that she is completely muggle-born, she is from America.

“Um...I went to Arkansas at one point. I think it's a fake place made by the government. We shot fireworks off and it almost hit my brother. Luckily his hearing came back after a few days. Uhh..let me think… I tried to bake cupcakes but I accidentally baked the frosting and iced the cupcakes with the batter. That was a really bad experience…” She trails off, finally looking at her friend’s faces.

The rest of the group just stares at her in complete confusion.

“Yup, sounds about right. Anyways, what classes are you guys hoping to get?” Emma turns back to the rest of the group.

“Genuinely, you two are just- yup okay. I’m hoping to take Astronomy this year.”

The group begins to recall what classes are for fourth years and what teachers they are excited to see. Seamlessly they fall into old patterns of conversation and inside jokes. Their laughter fills the cabin, the reunion of best friends after a far too long break. They are talking and laughing so loudly, they almost miss the Trolley Witch.

“Wait!” Peter yells down the hall. The Trolley Witch slowly pulls the cart back in front of Cabin M.

“What would you lovely bunch like?” She waves her hand over the array of brightly colored candies and chocolates.

Simultaneously, there is a shout for chocolate. Emma and Remus look at each other before chuckling awkwardly.

“Dear God…” Sirius rolls his eyes, smiling “I’ll take one Bertie’s Botts please.”

“Here you go, dear. Anyone else?”

“Do y’all have any like, lollipop type things?” Kat eyes the cart curiously.

“We have acid pops.” The witch’s voice was like honey.

“Oh, that sounds fun, sure I’ll-”

“No!” Emma shouts. “Unless you want a hole burned in your tongue.”

“Okay, literally why would you sell that?” Kat’s face is wide in confusion.

“Why’d you go and spoil the fun?” James laughs while Sirius pouts at the missed opportunity.

The Trolley Witch starts to laugh, a rather haunting contrast to the sweetness of her voice. She rolls the cart away, letting the door shut behind her.

“So Remus, chocolate already? Is it your time of the month?” Sirius nudges Remus’s foot. Remus rolls his eyes and kicks Sirius back. Sirius yelps and grabs his shin.

“If you guys keep kicking me, I’m gonna break a bone.”

“Then stop saying stupid shit.” Emma kicks his other foot, gently but enough to get another yelp.

“And never ask a person if it's their time of the month, That’s just common sense.” Kat rolls her eyes and smirks at Emma who glances back.

“Can’t a man enjoy his chocolate in peace?” Remus shakes his head. He continues to munch on the bar, sporting a look of satisfaction with each bite.

Emma looks outside. The view had changed from the cityscape of London to the rolling hills of Scotland. The sun that was once midway in the sky was now creeping towards the horizon. Has time flown that quickly?

“Have you guys heard from your other roommate this summer?” Kat curiously looks at the other guys. Their faces are completely blank.

“We have another roommate?” James asks as Sirius begins counting the boys in the room.

“Is it not just the four of us?”

“I didn’t notice anyone else for the past three years…” Peter mumbles. Remus just shrugs, too preoccupied with his delicious treat.

“You’re kidding me right?” Kat glances around, hoping for even a hint of a smile. She came up empty.

“You’re telling me there are five students in a room?” James asks.

“Emma, help, my brain is hurting from the dumbass-ery.”

Emma begins to count on her fingers, smiling but also surprised at the ingenuity of the boys.

“Marlene, Dorcus, Lily, Kat, and Me. Five.”

The guys let out a synchronized “Ahh…” as if this was a brand new revelation.

”I suppose we’ll find out when we get there.”

“But Gu-” Kat is interrupted by Emma’s shushing noise. She shakes her head and Kat recedes back in her seat.

The room fills with piercing golden sunlight as the sun tucks itself behind the hills. The setting sun is a marker signaling twenty minutes left in the train ride.

“Oh, I have a question,” Kat asks.

“Yes, Miss Russell. What is your question?” Emma responds in the most McGonagall voice she could muster. It was pretty on point.

“Are y’all still doing that thing?” She glances around.

“Did she just say y’all?” Remus’s face scrunches at the cowboy-ness of the phrase. Emma laughs and Sirius snickers.

“What thing?” James nods back to Kat, acknowledging her question.

“The animal thing, I forgot the word…” Suddenly she is shushed by everyone. She jolts back in her seat. She squints until the memory comes back to her.

“Oh sorry, yeah I forgot… It's a secret.” Kat starts to whisper, glancing out the door’s window. No one passes by.

“It’s more than a secret, it's illegal,” Peter mutters, glancing around nervously. James nudges Peter and gives him an affirming nod. Peter sits up with more confidence than he had before and smiles at Remus.

Remus stares at his empty wrapper.

“Yeah, we’re still doing it,” Sirius says in an almost demanding tone. As if there wasn’t any other answer besides yes. He stares at the sunset outside.

“Of course we’re still doing it.” Emma smiles, and gently pats Remus’s knee, pulling him back from his wrapper into reality. Remus returns the smile and mutters something along the lines of “thanks”.

James chuckles, “Hey it looks like we’re pulling into Hogsmeade.”

Outside, the dark landscape fades into brick buildings with uneven roofs. The buildings, partially obscured by darkness, still glow with a whimsical light. Some have shop titles branded on the front with faded letters while others glisten with a sort of old-fashioned newness.

The train tracks along until it arrives at a long wooden port lined with poles carrying firefly torches. In the middle of the wooden planks stands a rather large and hairy man holding a little kerosine lamp. He waves as the train flashes by him.

“Hagrid!” Emma and Sirius smush their faces against the window while the rest wave furiously behind them. Hagrid recognizes the zealous pack and returns the wave as they speed by.

Finally, the train screeches to a stop. With a final blast from the horn, the doors fling open.

“Students, grab your things and go.”

Suddenly, the train is filled with the same hustle from back at the station. The students snatch their bags from the overhead storage and make their way, single file, to the boardwalk outside. The first years are hurried away with Hagrid while the rest wrap themselves in their cloaks in an attempt to fight the brisk autumn air.

Finally, a rather short professor with an extraordinary mustache begins to direct the students down the road to standing wagons. The wooden wheels are at attention with reigns that lead to nowhere. As the students board, the carts sway from side to side. After the cart is full, it takes off, ricketing full speed down the dirt road towards the castle.

“I’m so excited.” Emma practically jumps onto the cart. Boarding one by one, the group takes in the horseless carriages. Magic was always peculiar but this was astonishing even to those who knew magic like their ABCs. As soon as James sits down next to the others, the carriage starts to trot away towards the castle. It was time to start their next year at Hogwarts.

#Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #James Potter #peter pettigrew #fem!oc #remus x oc #marlene mckinnon #dorcus meadows #hogwarts #harry potter fanfiction #lmao im trying my best #this is for Emma my love hehe #lily evans

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shutupandshipit · 4 years ago

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Friends in a Storm - Oneshot

Summary: At the end of it all, the sky was always bluest after a storm.

.....

Or where Izuku is afraid of storms and Katsuki isn't.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T (just for language mostly)

Author’s Note: So, I recently went through the first hurricane of my life. Our good old Cat 2 Hurricane Sally. I'm wasn’t too far from where the eye hit, and we got a fair bit of damage done to us, but nothing too severe. It was really interesting. I don't normally get anxious during storm (I actually really love them, they make me feel alive), but there was a moment when I was anxiously staring out the window and just had the thought, "This would be a lot nicer if I had someone's hand to hold." That feeling is what spurned the birth of this fic.

I hope you guys like it even though it's just a piddly little one-shot. If not, I'll enjoy it enough for all of us.

Katsuki jumped as thunder rolled over the dorms. Immediately following, something slammed into the side, rattling the entire building. The first thought that sprang to mind was that someone wandering around outside had gotten thrown into their dorm, which he dismissed as ridiculous.

Snarling, he stalked to the balcony door, but simply glared at it. He couldn't see through the glass at the moment anyway.

The sky had been dark and threatening to crack apart for days before the wind finally kicked up. It had been more than a decade since Musutafu had gotten hit with a typhoon, not such a strong one at least. The city wasn't really prepared even though they had seen it brewing on the horizon. The city got hit regularly from May to October by tropical depressions and storms, but a Category 2 typhoon? Not so much. Most of their parents hadn't been through such a strong storm before.

Massive flooding and minor building damage had been predicted with possible power and water outages.

That Monday, they'd returned from lunch and immediately been dismissed back to the dorms with a blunt, “If there's something you can't live without for the next three days, get it now. You won't be able to go anywhere by tonight.” Then Aizawa left to go help the other teachers prepare the rest of the buildings and faculty living quarters.

No matter their differences, when class 3-A needed to come together, they did. All together, they fortified the dorm windows and doors with steel plates Yaoyorozu made. Those with more strength based quirks or with strength applications (Katsuki, Izuku, Kirishima, Sato, Shouji, and Tokoyami with Dark Shadow) heaved around the plates in teams of two. Uraraka and Sero worked together to lift the plates to the upper story windows and leverage them in place. Mineta made himself useful by plugging up any possible holes around the plates and helping them stick better. The others with bodies and quirks less suited to manual labor booked it to the store to stock up on water, candles, snacks and food that didn't have to be cooked or only needed hot water. When they returned, everyone created a line to stack sand bags around the first floor just in case they were unlucky enough to get flooded.

By the time they were done, the rain had begun to fall and wind ripped harshly at their clothing. Dorm 3-A had been transformed into a literal fortress. Nothing would be able to knock it down.

Except maybe a Cat 2 typhoon.

Again, something slammed into the dorms, right into the steel plate over his balcony door. Storms didn't make Katsuki nervous normally, but anxiety pooled in his stomach from the simple fact that he couldn't see what was going on outside. And if he was anxious, he knew there was a specific nerd probably pissing himself at the moment.

Huffing, Katsuki stalked to his door. Izuku had never liked storms as a kid, and still didn't like them now. He had walked in on Izuku with a blanket over his head, sobbing as he tried to lose himself in hero videos more times than he cared to remember. And those had been with minor storms. Something like this...

Another crash jolted him into action.

Ripping opening his bedroom door, he stalked through the halls. He wasn't sleeping anyway. He'd originally retired to his room because the rest of the class had insisted on having a storm party in the common room and they were bound to be loud as fuck. He'd been tired, but there was no reason to avoid them when he wouldn't be able to sleep with a stomach full of snakes. Or with the now blooming worry over how Izuku was handling it.

When he got to the common room, he had to take a moment to survey the absolute disaster scene that the space had become. Blankets were strung up from wall to wall, creating forts over the couches and tables. The center of the common room had become a tent city in just a few hours. Candles sat on every available surface, some already lit in anticipation of the power going out, some waiting patiently for their time to burn. Bowls of popcorn and cans of soda littered the area. Multiple rounds of Rummy, Poker and simpler card games were going on all at once. The television fizzed static, a beacon over them all.

Crouching beside Kirishima with a scowl, he cut his eyes over his classmates looking for green curls. There were none. There wasn't even a lump of blankets large enough to plausibly be the nerd.

“Where's Deku?” he growled, and Kirishima jerked towards him in surprise.

“Man, I didn't even realize you were there.” He sighed, pressing a hand to his chest. It took him a moment of steadying breaths to register the question. “Oh, Mido? I don't know. Said he was going to study or something. Right, Mina?” He elbowed Mina to get her attention.

The most annoying game of telephone ensued until, from across the fort, Ochako called, “He said he wasn't feeling well so he went upstairs to rest.”

“Idiot,” Katsuki scoffed and stood again. No one called after him as he walked back towards the stairs -no fucking way he was getting stuck in the elevators if the power went out-.

Izuku had no right to call Katsuki stubborn when his prideful ass couldn't even admit that he was scared to his friends. Not that Katsuki had any room to talk, but Izuku liked to pretend they weren't similar just as much as Katsuki did.

As soon as he stopped in front of Izuku's door, the lights flickered. A quiet whimper sounded in the room, and Katsuki huffed a sigh.

He and Izuku were what some would call friends now. Friends of a sort. Friends that sometimes did intimate things that 'just friends' weren't supposed to do. They still struggled every day with what had been happening between them for years. And they weren't the kind of friends who did the whole touchy feely comfort thing. Their form of comfort was argument, struggle, beating each other to a pulp. Still, Katsuki always found himself at Izuku's door when he knew the nerd was having a hard time, and vice versa. The only difference this time was that he couldn't just drag Izuku to the training fields for a sparring session.

Katsuki knocked lightly on the door so he wouldn't startle Izuku, but he heard a squeak anyway. “Deku, open the door.”

There was a scuffle from inside the room, and slowly, the door cracked for Izuku to peak out at him. Green eyes stared back, bloodshot and red rimmed. Nose just a cherry on his face. “Kacchan?”

“Let me in the room, nerd. You're just going to leave me out here?”

“N-no,” Izuku stammered before stepping back and opening the door enough for Katsuki to slip in. Rubbing at his arms through a hoodie that suspiciously looked like the one Katsuki thought he'd misplaced several weeks ago, he asked, “Do you need something?” He wouldn't lift his head, avoiding Katsuki's eyes as he shuffled back to his nest of a bed. The remnants of a cocoon was crumpled in the middle.

“No.” Katsuki leaned against Izuku's desk, watching as he clambered back onto his bed. “Came to check on you since you weren't downstairs.”

“I'm fine.” Mumbled absolutely unconvincingly under his breath.

“Sure you are, nerd. You're always peachy during a storm.” Overhead, the lights flickered as thunder rolled and the building shook. Off, on, off, on, off, on and off again. This time, they stayed off. A stifled whimper floated across the room towards Katsuki, only making his already clenching stomach clench harder. Rolling his eyes, he pushed away from the desk. “You're such a dirty liar, Deku.”

“Leave me alone, Kacchan,” Izuku sniffled.

Katsuki didn't move, but still said, “Fine. I'll just leave then.”

Thunder rolled. Wind howled. Something crashed against the steel plates outside on Deku's balcony, and then stayed to do it over and over again.

“Wait!” Deku shouted into the blackness around them. “I'm sorry. Don't leave. Please.”

Stepping to the bed, Katsuki sank a knee into the edge and grabbed the hand he could feel outstretched towards him. “I was only joking, dumbass, I'm not actually going anywhere. Chill.”

“How am I supposed to 'chill' when we could die tonight?” Izuku's breath was a rapid staccato of pants, fingers forming fists in the front of Katsuki's shirt. “Did you know that a typhoon is essentially just another name for a hurricane? They all do the same thing and are made the same way, but just develop in a different part of the world. They can dump more than twenty inches of rain. Storm serge can rise up to six feet. Not to mention the wind strength just for a Category 1. A Cat 2 can be upwards of-”

Katsuki gently placed his palm over Izuku's mouth, silencing him. He could see Izuku now, his eyes having adjusted to darkness. He could see the wideness of his eyes, whites more visible than usual and tears spilling over his lashes. An animal terrified. “Izuku,” he said sternly, but soft around the edges, “You're freaking out. You're going to pass out if you don't get your breathing under control. We're going to be fine. The dorms are made of pure concrete with a solid structure, and the typhoon isn't strong enough to even rip the roof off. Do you understand? This is just your fear talking. Are you going to let your fear control you?”

Prying Katsuki's fingers from his mouth, Izuku whispered, “Fear is a good thing. It keeps you alive.”

“Not right now. Fear is good in a battle. On the job as a hero. Right now, it's just driving you up a fucking wall.”

Katsuki equally was and wasn't expecting when Izuku pressed their mouths together. Izuku was breathless before the kiss, and he was only more breathless during the kiss as he tried to suck away Katsuki's breath instead. Their tongues moved slowly against each other, scorching hot and slick.

When Izuku pulled away again, he was still panting, but slower this time.

“What was that for?” Katsuki asked softly, carding his fingers through Izuku's messy curls with one hand and cupping the side of his neck with another. He'd been pulled further onto the bed while they kissed, and Izuku had found a home in his lap. He kissed several stray tears from Izuku's cheeks.

This was the intimate stuff Katsuki was talking about. The kisses. The softness of voices. Hands in hair and hands on skin. Falling into each other over and over again because they didn't know any better. Or maybe they did know better, and just didn't care to heed the warning.

“I needed to stop thinking.” Izuku's eyes were closed, his breathing slowing to something more normal. With legs on either side of Katsuki's waist, he cupped the hand on his neck with his own and leaned his forehead against Katsuki's collarbone. “And the only thing that makes me stop thinking better than fighting you is kissing you.”

“So you're just using me then, nerd?”

Izuku hummed a non-reply, leaning into Katsuki's warm hand.

“Well, that's fine.” Pressing his mouth into the top of Izuku's head, he whispered, “You can use me all you want, as much as you want. Anytime. Any place.”

“Pinky promise?”

“We're not five anymore. I'm not making a shitty pinky promise with you.”

Izuku laughed, and turned his lips back up for another kiss.

They fell into each other just like they always did, letting that all encompassing fire consume them from the inside out. Their classmates didn't understand them which was fine because they didn't understand themselves most of the time. They were the rise and fall of a stormy sea. The hungry flames of a forest fire. The raging winds and cutting rain of a typhoon.

But what people always forgot -and sometimes they forgot too- was that seas always calmed and rain dried up and wind slowed and fires ran out of kindling.

At the end of it all, the sky was always bluest after a storm.

…..

Katsuki hadn't expected them to fall asleep, all tangled up in each other, with the typhoon outside and what he would later come to find out was a piece of the gutter slapping against the steel plate. So, he definitely wasn't expecting to wake up to shuffling footsteps and weak candle light and giggling whispers.

With an arm over his eyes, he couldn't tell how many of his and Izuku's dumbass friends were in the room, but he knew it was too many. Just one of them would have been too many.

“Get the fuck out,” he growled lowly.

“Don't be like that, Kacchan,” Kaminari whispered jovially, “We just wanted to come check on you.”

“Well, you've done that. Now get the fuck out. Don't you have something better to do?”

“No, the storm is still going, power is still out and we got bored of games. You and Izuku weren't back, so we figured this would be a good alternative.” Mina's voice was chipper and far too loud for the bundle sleeping on Katsuki's arm.

He moved his arm just barely out of the way to glare at the assembled group; Kirishima, Mina, Sero, Kaminari, Shinsou, Jirou, Yaoyorozu, Ochako, Iida and lastly Todoroki. Half the fucking class was currently standing in Izuku's room like a bunch of dodos with a death wish.

Suddenly, Katsuki was very aware of his state of undress, and thankful Izuku hadn't hogged all of the sheets like he normally would. “Well, it was a terrible alternative. Find something else to go do before I blast every single one of you out into that storm to get thrown around.”

“Like a roller coaster. Sounds like fun,” Kirishima said, shit-eating grin plastered to his face. When Katsuki groaned, he laughed. Best friend that he was, he turned to herd the others out. “Okay, I think that's enough. Let them sleep or whatever it was they were doing. Who has whiteboard markers? Let's go play tic-tac-toe on the fridge.”

“We will absolutely not-”

Kirishima closed the door, silencing both the bereft groans of their classmates and Iida's reprimand.

Breath fluttered across the side of Katsuki's neck, closer than before, and he startled.

“Thanks for staying with me,” Izuku mumbled into his skin, closing the small distance between them. His eyes were still closed, voice soft with sleep. “You didn't have to. Storms are easier with another person though. I don't think they were meant to be gone through alone. Does that make sense?”

“Absolutely not.” Katsuki was lying, and Izuku knew as he huffed out a laugh.

“Can we go on a hike after this is done? The sky is always bluer after a storm.”

A butterfly fluttered against Katsuki's breastbone, just the lightest brush of wings, at his thoughts in Izuku's mouth. He hummed, an agreement to both the question and statement, and pulled Izuku flush against his body.

#my hero academia #mha #bakudeku #dekubaku #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #storm fic #here have another thing #i also love this one #wrote it while I was stuck inside because of Hurricane Sally #my writing #friends in a storm #one shot

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ibtk · 4 years ago

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Book Review: THE ANIMALS IN THAT COUNTRY by Laura Jean McKay (2020)

(Full disclosure: I received a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review through Edelweiss and Library Thing's Early Reviewers program. Content warning for violence, including that against animals. Caution: this review contains a spoiler in the form of an excerpt.)

'Well, I’ve got a secret for you, Miss Kimberly Russo.' She digs her sharp little nails into my skin. ‘What is it?’ ‘This flu means people can talk to animals.’ Her head shoots up. ‘I want the flu, Granny. Don’t you?’ ‘Grown-ups don’t wish they had diseases, and neither should you.’ ‘But don’t you?’ Outside, Wallamina and Princess Pie are nose and beak to the sliding door, trying to press their way through. Eyes shining. ‘Course I bloody do.’

I can see the wild in her. She looks and acts like any dog. Plays, wags, stares into my eyes with her baby browns; does chasey, catch, begs for biscuits. Then the dusk comes and she lifts her neck and howls the saddest song in all the world, and there’s that wild. Dingo, owl, night thing — that sound is a warning. Loneliest you’ll hear. Wraps around your face, your sleep, your dreams. She’s saying: ‘Hey, hey. There’s something coming.’ The rangers here are always telling me, don’t talk like that. They say how dingoes are just establishing territory, checking on their pack. Dingo admin. But stand on the hot road that runs from the gift shop to the enclosures, and listen to the dingo in her cage call out to the packs on the other side of the fence. Tell me that’s not special. Tell me she doesn’t know something about the world that you and me haven’t ever thought of.

Jean Bennett isn't you're typical grandma - unless you're picturing Gemma Teller Morrow, that is. Jean drinks, smokes, swears, and sleeps around, usually all at the same time, and occasionally with her gay and committed coworker, Andy. She's got a tiger tattooed on her boob, and a dingo named Sue imprinted on her heart.

A lowly guide who dreams of becoming a ranger, Jean works at an Australian wildlife park, run by her son's ex-girlfriend Angela and owned by Angela's father. Jean and her husband Graham landed there years ago, after bouncing around the world for a while. Eventually Graham left Jean to shack up with another woman; their only child, Lee, jumped ship too, but not before hooking up with - and impregnating - Angela. Now Ange mostly keeps Jean around for the free child care (and maybe also because Ange feels sorry for her).

As for Jean, she stays stuck in this weird, awkward morass for her granddaughter Kimberley - one of the few people she can tolerate, let alone love. Jean prefers animals of the nonhuman variety, and the Park's residents/captives are her found family. She has a special place in her cockles for Sue, a dingo mix who she helped rescue as a wee little pup.

Jean's precarious life is already teetering on the edge of chaos when THE FLU arrives - first in southern Australia, then at the Park's gates, thanks to none other than an infected Lee, as charming as he is irresponsible.

Zoanthropathy (from Greek: zóo, “animal”, anthroponis, “human”, pathy, “disorder”), aka zooflu, otherwise known as "the talking animal disease," allow humans to understand and communicate with other animals:

'The strain known as zoanthropathy affects cognition in humans, and it is believed that enhanced communication between humans and nonhuman animals is possible. Zoanthropathy is hosted and spread by humans. [...] The disease is very high in morbidity and very low in mortality. Infected humans appear able to communicate (encode) and translate (decode) previously unrecognisable non-verbal communications via major senses such as sight, smell, taste, touch, and sound with nonhuman animals.'

When Lee runs off with Kimberley - to commune with the whales on the southern coast - Jean embarks on a cross-country road trip to find them. Riding shotgun is Sue, whose keen nose points the way to Tomorrow (Tomorrow being Sue's conceptualization of Kimberley. Jean is Yesterday, and Lee is Never There. Scathing, yet accurate.)

As with most potentially animal-friendly tales, I was equally nervous and excited to dive into THE ANIMALS IN THAT COUNTRY. As it is, the book both thrilled and disappointed me; I almost feel like it deserves two separate ratings, one for the idea and actualization of the dystopian zooflu future - which is breathtaking - and another for the human-centered plot that propels the audience's journey into this world - which is decidedly less so.

Let's start with the zooflu. It seems like it would be awesome to be able to talk to animals, right? Think again. I mean, really turn the idea over in your head, sit with the superpower, and try to envision what this might entail. Given that most of the nonhumans we encounter on the daily are exploited, oppressed, or otherwise negatively impacted by humans -

be it the 25 million farmed animals we create, torture, and kill for food every year in the US alone; the "wildlife" (read: free-living animals) we displace, starve, and kill through habitat loss; the dogs and cats we buy, neglect, and then abandon at shelters; or the animals we unintentionally hit with our cars (or the bugs we trod on just walking down the street); etc. x infinity

- we are weapons of mass destruction. To most of our nonhuman kin (and sometimes our fellow humans, too). Instead of words of wisdom and messages of hope, we'd be more likely to hear cries of terror. Confusion. Pain and agony. Hellfire, everywhere. Created and fueled by us and our own.

Heck, I'm not even sure it would be beneficial to always know exactly what our beloved, nonhuman family members are thinking. I have a fifteen-year-old dog named Finn who's going deaf and blind and battling dementia. More often than not, I suspect that being privy to his innermost thoughts would freak me the fuck out. Not to mention break my damn heart.

And then there's the mode of communication: not just just verbal, as we're used to, but all-encompassing: "sight, smell, taste, touch, and sound." Think pheromones, sound waves, scratches and ticks. The beating of countless tiny wings, all bombarding your brain and trying to tell you something. That kind of thing, coming at you uninvited and from all directions, is apt to drive a person mad. And it does, as evidenced by zooflu sufferers who stuff their orifices with whatever's handy to block incoming stimuli - or, at the more extreme end, the pseudo-religious trepanners who invite strangers to drill holes in their skulls in a misguided attempt to relieve the pressure.

Talking to animals sounds like the stuff of dreams - but in McKay's hands, it's a nightmare.

And a pretty trippy one, at that: fittingly, the incoming messages that Jean's left to decode aren't quite what you'd call straightforward. There's a lot of translation required, and Google hasn't yet caught up:

I’m reading her body like some language I barely remember from a high school textbook. Bonjour madame, connaissez-vous le chemin de la gare? Let’s go to the station. Or, where the hell is the supermarket? I can parrot the words, but the meaning is in scraps.

Copies of this book should be sold with a sheet of acid, or maybe some edibles. I kid, but also not.

If, like me, you assumed that increased understanding and compassion would surely spring forth from this newfound ability to communicate with nonhuman animals, you'd be wrong. While some people do indeed embrace the flu, many others lash out: animal-free zones are established, and hungry citizens start hunting former pets, since they make for easy prey (apparently they've never heard of fruits and veggies?).

There's one especially excruciating scene that I don't think I'll ever be able to forget. Jean takes refuge in a makeshift church, only to catch a glimpse of how the missionaries make their sausage (stew):

A small fluffy dog has pelted out a kitchen door, thin bit of twine tangled around its legs, body blonde fire, screaming, Hello. Please. Please bite its soft. Quick. Help me. I jump up, calling the poor little bugger, but the parishioners shriek louder, climbing on their chairs like that dog is the snake from the garden of Eden. The woman rushes for her daughter and hauls her by an arm out of the room. It’s funny, for a second, until the laugh dies in my throat. The little dog, too tangled in the twine to move, slumps panting in the aisle. It’s not just m e. Where’s other me. She’s still — The god-botherers are faster than me. They grab that dog with WWF wrestling passion, using real lumps of wood, real knives. The little dog has enough time to issue a thick whiff of terror from its undercarriage, Help her, before they’ve slit it ear to ear right there in the pulpit. There was no blood with Lee. He didn’t even look that drowned. He might have come alive any moment. He might be alive right now in his grave. This little dog, though, is bleeding out on the beige carpet. The door to the kitchen is open. Matthew the soup cook leans on the jamb, then turns back. A fluffy tail on a chopping board. The steaming pots. Pain like a stab to my guts — he stirs a soup very much like the one he was serving up in the park.

Of course, this scene is so repulsive to most of us - Jean included - only because the animal being killed and consumed is designated for "companionship" instead of "food," at least in this particular culture. Chances are you've known and loved a dog or two yourself - and so the doomed beast transforms from a something to a someone. Not an unfeeling object to be used and discarded at will, but a sentient creature with her own feelings, desires, and loved ones. Had it been a chicken or pig, the result wouldn't be quite so horrifying; Jean herself eats meat, and justifies doing so, on several occasions.

Yet an earlier scene - in which Jean comes upon an abandoned tractor trailer truck packed with pigs destined for slaughter - will hopefully challenge readers to expand their circle of compassion:

I’ve seen battery hogs before — of course I have. But not out and about. Not staggering around and trying to walk, calling to whatever they think is ‘more’. Glazed eyes that strain like they’ve never seen sunlight. Skin stretched over bodies fed to the point of bursting — something between swine and meat. Saw some animal liberationists on the street in the city one time, saying factory farms were the same as Nazi camps. I called them bloody racists too. The pigs clatter past me down the ramp, fucked-up eyes on the road ahead, calling, Hello is it more. Those animal nutters were wrong, but not in the way I thought. It’s not the same as the Nazis: that was us doing to us. What’s this? [...] A hurt sow sits on her haunches, then lies down on the verge, panting unevenly under the slathering sun. Another weaves blindly over the asphalt toward her, flies spinning around her head. They push their noses into each other. Send me a postcard, the sick one says. Postcard, indeed. What the fuck. I watch more closely. The meaning bright off that tight skin. All the little bits saying, Leave me, and, I’ll hear about it, and, Don’t you see it. Move on. There’s more. The ones that can walk stretch their legs, for, More, more, more. I stand at the top of the truck ramp watching them break into a group trot toward the next paddock. Skin rippling. Hooves carolling. Know that heart-in-your-mouth run. Know exactly what ‘more’ is. I’ve seen it in Lee and I’ve had it too, at times. These pigs are half dead, they’re stumbling around, blind, mad, and fucking hopeful.

Even if many of the characters in this book resist the humanity clearly evident in nonhuman animals, I hope that readers will hold these passages close - especially at the dinner table.

Sue, our main nonhuman protagonist, is a fascinating character; like many of the semi-domesticated animals in the park, McKay paints her as a series of conflicting impulses: safety or freedom. Hunger or satiation. Dingoes or humans. She is fiercely loyal, much to her own detriment. She has wants and needs of her own, and she's often satisfied to set them aside for the good of her (adopted) pack.

And I guess that brings me to the second half of this review: the humans, most of whom are awful. Jean, exponentially so.

Initially I thought that Jean would be my people: she's a hard-drinking, mold-breaking badass broad who gets on better with animals than people. She has a mini-rescue in her backyard where she keeps some of the park's doomed relinquishments. (The public treats the park like a rehab facility when in fact it's in the business of entertainment - old, sick, injured, and "common" animals are routinely killed.) She and Kimberley spend their afternoons together designing the animal rescue they hope to build one day.

But Jean is kind of a terrible person. To call her a misanthrope is half the story: she's also senselessly mean and cruel, especially when drunk, hungover, or frustrated (in other words, 90% of the time). I don't fault Jean for her substance abuse problem - alcoholism is a mental health issue and should be treated as such - but nor is it an excuse for being such an asshole. (There's even a scene where she trolls people discussing the zooflu online, like a fucking American redhat.) She's shit to everyone around her, except for Kimberley and Lee (Lee, who could use a good ass-kicking).

And then there's Sue: Sue, who followed Jean across the damn country when she should have been settling into a dingo pack of her own. Sue, who found Kimberley and saved Jean's life. Sue, who is nothing but good and true and trustworthy. Sue, who Jean assaults on multiple occasions: kicking her in the ribs, binding her with rope to prevent her escape, and even trying to shoot her (with a gun that's thankfully empty of bullets). At one point, she "forgives" Sue for saving her life - as if Sue's the one who needs forgiveness!

Despite the abuse, Sue continues to stick by Jean's side, which galled me endlessly. Towards the end of the story, following the attempted murder, Sue gets revenge of a sort, dominating a delirious Jean and forcing her subservience. However, the book ends shortly thereafter, cutting any sense of satisfaction far too short.

I really felt cheated with Jean: I thought she might be my avatar in this world - but she's just another terrible human who doesn't deserve the company of animals.

Likewise, the whole subplot involving Kimberley's parentage is way over the top dramatic and unnecessary; it seemed like we were being plucked from a dystopia and dropped into a soap opera for a minute there. Just, gross. So yeah, there are definitely some aspects of the book that I appreciated more than others. THE ANIMALS IN THAT COUNTRY may be imperfect - but I'd still wholeheartedly recommend it to anyone looking to explore our relationship to nonhuman animals in a dystopian setting.

#books #reviews #book reviews #fiction #science fiction #dystopia #nonhuman animals #Laura Jean McKay #the animals in that country

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aubergineanathema · 4 years ago

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To be a possession

Part 1 - The ruin in the clearing: Preface Part 2 - Whispers in darkness Part 3 - Käsdorf and Wulvosburg Part 4 - Secrets behind stone walls Part 5 - Wind chimes and wildflowers Part 6 - Beneath the hillock Part 7 - Evidence of a struggle Part 8 - Murder of crows Part 9 - A play in the distance Part 10 - By a hair’s breadth

-------

Part 11

Up and over. Smooth down. Pulled tight, across to the middle.

And Again.

As she gently wound the strands of golden hair around each other, Helga marveled at how fine and silken they were. Even though she knew her mistress’s hair had been recently washed, by her, it was far more lustrous than her thicker brown hair had ever been. Angelika’s hair was almost too clean and slippery to properly braid, but Helga managed deftly, as she had been braiding her own hair since she was a little girl. Angelika was sitting, watching the storm clouds gather and glow outside her wide balcony doors. She had flung them open before sitting upon the bed and insisting her hair be braided.

“And this jester, he carried in his pack a small goat! He had trained it to balance upon his shoulders as he danced, and we had such a wonderful feast that night.” Angelika mused to Helga, and the maid nodded quietly, listening.

This had become a common occurrence.

Helga had not done inventory, or much kitchen work at all, since the night she had met Angelika in the hallways. She had tried to maintain her duties during the day, following that first night down in the dungeon, but found herself falling asleep at odd times. As every evening at around suppertime, Angelika would come to find her, wherever she might be in the castle, and spirit her away to her bedroom.

At first, of course, she had been worried about neglecting her duties to the castle and to her Lord Alastair, but Angelika had told her plainly not to worry about ‘silly things like chores.’ And then, only a day or two after that, the steward Franz began to neglect to give her daytime tasks at all. Angelika, it seemed, had arranged this change. She preferred to have Helga at her side, as a personal servant.

Most nights Helga would do whatever it was Angelika wanted to. She would prepare her a bath, and brush and braid her hair, and sometimes apply paints to her porcelain face. She would aid Angelika as she tried on all the jewels and dresses at her disposal in different arrangements, and sample the scents of her many perfumes. Often, Angelika would then insist on returning the favor. This, Helga did not understand, and at times it made her uncomfortable to allow her lady to wait upon her, but would never deny her lady’s request. She assumed it was entertainment for Angelika, to dress her maid up like a doll—and when she regarded herself in the small ornate hand mirror Angelika would offer her, she could not deny that she enjoyed the attention. In those midnight moments, when she wore the trappings of a noblewoman in these private rooms, she liked to imagine for a moment being one.

As they did these things they would also converse, or rather more accurately, Angelika would talk about all the magnificent courts she had visited with her father, and all the places she had been: Great expansive cities, and castles of marble and gold, week-long festivals and markets containing every manner of comfort and pleasure, some of them oceans away. Helga had never been to anywhere more spectacular than this very castle, with its study stone walls, stained glass windows, and luxurious red decor, and so all of it seemed exciting and fanciful to her. Urban sprawls with hundreds of buildings and towers and thousands of people seemed like another world to Helga, and she did not hide her candor.

She preferred to braid hair, try on clothes finer than she could ever hope to own, and listen to exaggerated stories over laundering the sheets or curing meats in the kitchens. Although, some of the stories certainly were exaggerated. Angelika descriptions of cities and sights were incredible enough, but sometimes Angelika would tell tales that simply beggared belief.

“Lucian wanted him to come back with us as entertainment, of course. Could you imagine how a jester would brighten up this dingy castle? He said he couldn’t, though. Something about not wanting to leave his family. So, Lucian threw him right off the minaret!” Angelika giggled.

Helga laughed too, but Helga’s was a nervous laugh.

This was not the first time Angelika had said something so macabre. Only a few evenings ago she had mentioned as casually as the weather that her father had once sent her to poison a prince who had insulted them a few duchies over. Nobles were rich, to be sure, but Helga didn’t truly believe that meant they would commit the cardinal sin of murder. An active imagination, or a strange joke were explanations Helga used to rationalize these stories. She never asked Angelika to elaborate.

But, as she weaved her fingers through Angelika’s fine hair, her mind wandered. She could dismiss Angelika’s exciting tales of murder and intrigue as stories or lies, but she could not deny the truth beneath their feet, in the dungeon below. She could still see her candle rolling slowly in her mind’s eye, and could not stop its movement in her memory any more than she could forget what she had seen that night. Her knees burned as she thought of how Lucian had shoved her down, and her throat had hurt all that next day from the screaming.

She could not forget the beast she had seen, chained and fettered in a cell that seemed almost too small. Bears and wolves roamed the lowlands, and so she had seen her fair share of them from a distance, but this creature had not the same shape or stature as those beasts. This creature was much larger, and stood hunched upon its haunches like a cat ready to pounce, front limbs fashioned more like great furred hands than paws, clawed and gripping the bars as though the beast understood the confines of the prison. This furry, hulking being gripped the bars and looked out, eyes bright with desperation, fixed directly upon Helga. She had heard a strange hissing sound, as steam curled up from where the bare pads of the paws touched metal. And then sharp howls of pain as the beast recoiled.

Immediately, she had tried to distance herself from the bars, scrambling backward across the hard stone floor. Both Lucian and Angelika had been laughing on either side of her--taunting and teasing, but she hadn’t understood the words. Every sense was too fixated upon the cell, the contents of which her mind replayed for her in every dream she had had since, trying to make sense of what she had seen.

Then a sharp voice had cut through the noise. “Children! What do you think you’re doing down here!”

Helga’s head snapped towards the voice, and she saw a tall, pale man, with long limp hair, so light it was almost white. It hung loose around his shoulders, and about him a cloak covered him almost completely from his neckline down to his ankles, finely hemmed and embroidered with lace and gold thread. The angular face and blue eyes made the resemblance to his children quite apparent.

“Sir,” Lucian’s usual smile was gone and he swallowed with some anxiety. “Considering the full moon, we—”

“Papa!” Angelika smiled sweetly as she interrupted, jabbing Lucian in the gut. “We just wanted to see your newest acquisition! We were just telling the maid about it.”

Alastair did look vaguely bemused at his daughter’s explanation. “Surely, dear one, you have more productive pastimes than to terrorize the servants.”

Angelika giggled and shrugged, while Lucian sulked.

Helga, meanwhile, staggered to her feet and looked around at them. “Wh-what is in there?” She found herself stammering, too distraught to remember her manners.

“A strange beast from Spain, to be sure.” Alastair replied with a flash of his white teeth. “It’s no surprise you’ve not seen one before. They are liable to infiltrate the countryside like vermin, but there have not been any in this region for as long as I have been ruler of this land.” He said this almost proudly, Helga thought.

Alastair had then gripped Helga by the shoulders and led her away. “Come now, children. That’s enough provocation for this evening.”

Angelika and Lucian had followed, and neither of them had mentioned the beast or the dungeon to Helga since.

“Helga!” Angelika had removed her glove to snap her fingers repeatedly before her maid’s face. “You’re not even hearing me! I told you to get your rest during the day. I want your attention when you’re with me.” She snapped, and her painted face screwed up into a pout that filled Helga with dread. The poor maid did not know what that expression conveyed, beyond clear disappointment, but there was something else Helga could not place.

“I’m sorry my lady, I—” She stopped short as Angelika waved dismissively.

“I said. Now it’s your turn.” Angelika motioned to the braid Helga had neatly completed, and then for the maid to rise.

“Oh!” Helga leapt up stiffly, waiting for direction.

Angelika giggled yet again and patted the bed beside her, bidding her to sit back down.

And so, Helga did. Turning her head away from her lady obediently, she looked out at the blackened sky. The rain had started, splashing uncaringly upon the stone floor and carpet trim near the open balcony. Helga felt the urge to close the doors, and protect her master’s valuables, but she also knew that to move now would displease that same master.

Nimble fingers with long nails reached through the thin strands of Helga’s hair, deftly undoing the bindings that held it haphazard but out of the way. Freed, it slipped down around her neck and shoulders, and she shivered at the feeling. She almost never wore her hair down, and it was a feeling like luxury. Then, she felt the fingers upon her scalp, brushing through the strands as though to align them, removing any knots or tangles. But these fingers went further too. They stroked gently but methodically along her scalp, massaging as she drew the hair back in sections into her hands. They traced along the curve of her neck, slowly drawing up the loose strands there too.

Helga found herself holding her breath, wondering.

Were Angelika’s fingers always quite so cold?

She felt it again, shivering as the cool fingers stroked and pulled upon her, that unnamed feeling that disoriented her and insisted on being noticed. That strange sense that Angelika could and would do with her whatever she pleased.

The feeling of being a possession.

And then she felt upon her neck something that seemed to freeze her blood. It was like a cool autumn breeze that announced the coming frost. The small hairs upon her neck stood on end as she realized what it was: Angelika’s breath.

Lightning flashed, striking one of the aspen trees just outside the castle walls, and Helga yelped and jumped with a start as a crack of thunder immediately followed.

Angelika burst into light laughter. “So skittish! Hold still. I’m almost done.” Accordingly, the fingers withdrew as they wound the braid down further and further away from her head. “There.”

Angelika rose and walked over to the bureau in one quick fluid movement, and Helga released the breath she had been holding. She returned with the hand-mirror, allowing Helga to see herself. Helga smiled weakly and took the braid into her hands. It was perfectly even.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” Helga said quietly.

“I know.” Angelika tittered. “You’re welcome, of course.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Both could feel the uneasy tension built up in the air. Helga felt unable to break the silence herself, and after a moment, Angelika just giggled and returned to the bureau, overspilling with jewelry, paints and perfumes.

----- This has been Part 11. For more, see my Fiction Updates -----

If you like this or my other original work, please feel free to reblog or share with your friends (with credit of course). I would really like feedback, so don’t be shy to talk to me about it!

This part is thematically linked to Part 4, if the reader desires a refresher!

Happy Halloween!

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scribbles-spills-the-ink · 5 years ago

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3 AM |Luna x Reader|

A/n: All of my x readers contain a reader with a disability, sometimes the disability is important, other times it’s just an extension to the character. Abled bodied readers can still read/like/comment/ and reblog, of course.

Genre: Fluff!

Warnings: Light cursing, injured animal, mentions of blood, reader takes medication.

It was 3 am when my eyes shot open and I arched my back in pain. I cursed to myself as I grabbed at my frozen legs, and groaned when I realised there was no feeling in them. My labored breathing was one of the only sounds in the sparkling Ravenclaw dorm room, along with the light snoring and sleep talking.

I inhaled the chocolate mocha scent through my enchanted pillow, and sat up with a grunt. Then I rubbed my eyes through my tiredness, and admired the moonlight that was reflecting on various silver items, and the stained glass window.

As I downed 4 pills with the water on my bedside I stole a glance at Luna Lovegood, and my face warmed. Her flowy platinum blonde hair was sprayed over her flower scented pillow, and her arms were wrapped around the big white wolf plush I got her for Valentine's. I smiled as I wrapped my fingers around the cork charm she made for me. Damn did I love that girl, since my 2nd year. However, I could never work up the courage to tell her.

I sighed and tried to rest again, only to realize moments later that it wasn't going to happen. So I accioed my broomstick wheelchair over to my bed and slid into it. The chair hovered about 6 feet above the ground and floated over to the larger stained window.

I looked out the window and suddenly had a taste for some hot chocolate. Though I ignored it and continued to gaze over to the forbidden forest. As I admired the school grounds I saw the flutter of big, skeletal wings. It was the thestrals. My heart swelled, and I looked at the creatures that had brought Luna and I together.

However, the warm feeling faded when I noticed one of the thestrals wings never returned to its side, and it was stomping on the ground in panic. My heart ached as I watched it thrash around in agony, as it tried to free it’s captured wings. It was a fruitless effort.

I hurriedly grabbed my wand and floated out of the dorms, and out of the common room. The best thing about my chair is that, since it was floating, it didn't make any noise. I pushed forward the toggle that moved the chair forward, and looked around the corner for Flich or Ms Norris.

Once I realised I was in the clear, I sped down the steps, and to the entrance door. Though I had only cracked it open when I heard a cat's meows. My heart stopped, and I turned slowly on my heels.

Ms. Norris's red eyes narrowed into mine, and I racked my brain for a solution. Though my heart began to beat even heavier when I heard Filch's footsteps coming down the moving staircase.

Then I thought of something crazy, so crazy that it just might work. I mean, she's just a cat right? So, I thought of a cat toy, and tried to focus completely on the object I want to transform my wand into. Then, when I lifted my wand again there was a fuzzy end to it and bells.

I shook it and the bells jingled. Ms. Norris's eyes focused on the sound and pounced at it.

"Good kitty," I whispered as Filch's steps got closer.

I pulled my wand back, to pretend I was going to throw it, and then flicked it forward. To my joy, she fell for it, and I quickly slipped through the big doors just as Filch was at the archway.

I sighed in relief and pushed the toggle forward and the chair sped quickly across the grass which shimmered with dew. Past Hagrid's hut, which smelt of small flames. I noticed the lights were all off, and Hagrid's loud snores echoed through. Then into the forest where the thestrals cries where louder than ever, and more heartbreaking.

I grabbed my wand tighter and rushed toward the cries. My heart was beating widely but the sounds of the forest edged me on. From the howls of werewolves, and the hoof thumps of centaurs, my arms were covered with goosebumps.

But then I saw him, the poor thestral, whom since I last saw him, had been left alone by his herd. I rushed toward him, and carefully slid off my chair; opting for crawling rather than scaring him.

I approached him slowly and gingerly placed my hand on his nose, "It's okay, honey, I'm here to help." and stroked his head to calm him.

Once he had stopped thrashing and crying, I raised my wand to the vines that entangled his large wings. "Difindo!" I whispered.

A small light shot to the vines and a couple fell to the ground. I repeated this action a few times over until his wing was free and all the vines were limp on the ground. However, before I could let him fly off, I cooed him still, and held his wing in my hands.

My heart dropped when I noticed the large gash in his wings that was bleeding a dark red. I casted the ferula spell that expertly wrapped a gawse around the wound. Then, I took a couple vines and tied them each loosely around his neck which created a makeshift leash.

So the as frogs croaked, fairies hummed, and the huge trees creaked, we walked peacefully through the forest. I continued to stroke the thestrals muzzle as I tied him to the fence on Hagrid's garden. He neighed and pawed at the ground, which I took as a sign of thanks, and rubbed his neck before I handed him a piece of raw meat from the bucket outside.

"I'm glad you got here in time!" Exclaimed a sweet, dreamy voice that I instantly recognized.

"Luna!" I yelled as I turned the face the pretty blonde. "What are you doing up?"

She chuckled and I had finally noticed the multicolored patched jacket in her hands as she came closer. "I heard you leave, and when I saw what you were doing, I thought you might be cold."

Truth be told, I hadn't given the cold a signal thought, for I was too occupied with everything else. Now, however, I have taken notice of it. My arms were spotted with goosebumps, and my nose was freezing at it's tip. I wrapped my arms around myself and meekly said, "Maybe a little smidge."

Luna shook her head with a giggle, her hair swaying beautifully with the movement, and began to walk closer to me. I reached my hand out for the jacket, but instead she slipped the sleeves on for me and fixed the collar on me.

My face flushed as she let her dainty, princess like hands rest on my shoulders, and hoped it could be mistaken for the cold. Then she smiled with her brilliant blue eyes focused on mine. I never wanted this moment to end. I just wanted her to keep looking at me, like I was one of her day dreams that she would get lost inside.

I couldn't help but smile at her, and before I even realize what I was doing, I placed my hands on her waist. Though, when her eyes fell to gaze at them my whole body felt like it was on fire and I quickly removed them and backed away.

"I’m so so sorry, I shouldn't have done that!” I stuttered out and twiddle my fingers with my head down.

She giggled again, and I couldn't help but smile to myself. Her hands grabbed mine and brought me even closer to her than we were before.

"You're cute," She said so assurly with her hand now caressing my cheek. "but you don't have to be nervous around me."

"Well-" I gulped and went to hold her hips again but shyed away. "-I suppose I just get that way around certain girls."

"Yeah?" She kneeled down to my height, and her free hand rested on my thigh. "What kind of girls?"

What was I doing? I felt nauseous, not in a sick way, but in the way of all this happiness is bubbling in my stomach, and I don't know what to do with it!

"Um well... she's- they're! No, she's-” After stuttering like an idiot, I took a deep breath and said “-she's so ethereal, like she really did come from the clouds. She’s a daydreamer, whose eyes glisten in the moonlight, and she's so very confident in who she is. She loves to draw and paint, and she believes in everything, even the impossible."

I looked back up to her hesitantly, and swallowed my breath as I finished, “And all she has to do is look at me...and...I’m hers.”

Luna’s eyes softened, and her body was relaxed, and at rest. Her hand on my cheek fell to my hand, which she intertwined her fingers with. Her head was down, so I couldn’t see her expression. Among those things her silky hair fell in waved that curtained her face.

My heart was beating rapidly in my chest, and I wondered if she could feel my hand trembling in hers. My thoughts raced in a dangerous cycle of anxiety and embarrassment as I watched her think. Though, there were moments when seeing her tonight under the pearl shaped moon invaded my mind.

Like how her soft and sweet her lips must taste, or how her warm skin against mine felt like falling asleep next to a fireplace on a cold night. I recalled every adventure I imagined for us, like how much I would like to hold her in my arms, or fall asleep reading her favorite book. Oh, if only I could run away with her, I’d never look back.

"That sounds like you were talking about me?" Her voice was so soft I barely heard it. She has slightly raised her head, just enough to see her brilliant silver eyes that flickered with worry.

I swallowed a breath and pushed the hair that curtained her face behind her ear. How was it possible that there were stars, and moon above us; that there was a brilliant thestral behind us, and mysterious forest beside us, and yet she was more beautiful than it all.

"Of course it's you Luna," I chuckled and cupped her jaw in my hand. "Who else could it possibly be?"

"There's hundreds of boys and girls here, anything is possible." Luna’s eyes wandered to the ground. “Besides, I’m Looney Lovegood, and you’re...well…”

As she trailed off, I felt something spark inside me.

For a moment, I looked up to the sky and was mesmerized by all the stars. However, there was one that shined the brightest, and just like that, every thought dried. Because I realised, it was just me, Luna, and the stars.

I smiled and tilted her head a little higher, and tucked the hair hiding her face behind her ear.

“Hey, you said it first-” I brought my other hand up to cup her face. “-I’m just as sane as you.”

“And I love you, Luna, more than anything.”

Saying those words that had been trapped in my brain for 6 years felt like taking a breath of fresh air, but had no comparison to what came next.

Luna brought her hands up to pull down on the coat she gave me, pulling me centimeters from her face. One hand wandered to the back of my neck, while the other rested on my shoulder. I took a deep breath and held onto her hips, as she lifted herself on her knees.

Not a moment later, her lips were on mine.

I closed my eyes, and it felt like floating around in an empty earth with only her. I could feel her hand trailing up and down my back as our mouths pieced together like perfect puzzles. And I couldn’t help but smile everytime she hummed against my lips.

Kissing her, however, was better than I could have ever imagined. We were going slow, and her lips were light as she controlled our kiss. She tasted like birthday cake, and she smelt like the beginning of fall.

Slowly, she began to back away, though I wanted nothing more than to keep kissing her forever. I took a second to open my eyes, but when I did, it was because Luna’s hand rested on my cheek, and her thumb caressed my bottom lip. I couldn’t help but stare at her as she did this.

Then I placed my hand on top of hers, and turned my head just enough to kiss her hand. Then I intertwined our fingers and put our hands in my lap.

“I love you, Luna.” I said again, though this time with my head down.

But Luna hooked her finger under my chin and brought my gaze up to her. Then she placed a short peck on my lips, rested her head on my shoulder, and whispered:

“I love you more.”

#harry potter x reader #harry potter #hogwarts #luna lovegood #luna lovegood x reader #chronic night dreamer #luna x reader

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tcrmommabear · 5 years ago

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Merry Christmas Cinder!

@deadbonessinderhellaton, yours hit me like a golf club, and I was simply at its whim.

It’s rare when one prompt speaks to me so strongly. Two at the same time is almost unheard of. Yours (sort of) has three prompts.

How did Haru end up running the Bureau? + Faustian Bargain/Deal with the Devil + “Ghosts are like relatives”

I struggled so hard with this, until the format finally hit me. And then yours was done and I wanted a full fic. I hope you enjoy this as much as I had writing it!

Cobblestone was cold. Cobblestone was familiar.

Cobblestone was pressed against her cheek and that’s not exactly where it should be.

Where should it be? Where should she be?

Images popped into mind, bubbling forth from somewhere familiar but blocked. Names, places, words, feelings. A slideshow before her eyes, leading her to where she needed to be.

Horror crashed through her.

“No!”

***

“Baron! Watch out!”

She yanked him arm, fire singeing her hands as it roared past them. They pressed up against the wall, listening to the dragon inhale, rumbling growl rattling through their bones.

They glanced at each other. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, hot and jittery, and she couldn’t stop the wide grin she gave him. His own almost matched the intensity of hers, breath heavy.

“That’s one way to get his attention,” she joked. His grin grew wider.

“Well, we’ve certainly got it now.”

***

She settled her life in places that she could. A goodbye note here, hints of life there.

A tearful goodbye with her mother that didn’t keep. She inserted herself into her life as much as she could, all the way up to the end. Sat on the couch, like she was a teenager again, coming home from a date or a party.

Instead she came home from life or death situations.

Except the second one wasn’t even an option.

***

She strained to hear, effectively pinned into place.

His voice was there, it was just out of reach, and she couldn’t stop him.

“... Everything. Do you swear on that?” he asks, voice colder than she had ever heard it. Harsher, demanding, authoritative.

“Don’t-!” she screamed out, but the words muffled against her lips and barely cut through whatever was holding her back.

They looked at her, two faces eerily similar. Except for two little horns curling from the one on the right’s temples. That one gave a splitting grin, flesh cracking. Cheshire.

Devilish.

It was in front of her, and she caught it all in full, watched the head tilt. The voice warped, familiar cloaked in nightmares. Turned its body to give the other a hand to shake, head still locked onto her.

“Do you swear?” he demanded again, hand just hovering out of reach.

The other forcibly clasped it, giving it a shake.

“Every damn day,” it told her.

***

“Look out!” she roared, dashing towards the young woman almost caught in flames and hissing liquid.

They tumbled to the floor, rolling as she shielded the other with her body. She wanted to howl as acid sunk into her flesh, but only grit her teeth. She could already feel herself knitting back together, bare back against the elements with the fabric of her jacket and shirt gone.

“Miss Haru…” the young woman whispered in horror, reaching up to wipe away at remnant acid still fizzing away.

“Don’t!” she blurted, catching her hand before it could touch it.

A roar sounded off in the distance, the beast running after another prospective meal. Haru slowly sat up, then stood, and finally reached down to help her client up. They glanced at each other, Haru looking around the corner to see if she could spot their monster.

“I’m so sorry Miss Haru,” the woman sniffed, drawing Haru’s attention,” I should have been more careful, you got hurt-.”

“Stop that,” Haru interjected, gripping the other’s shoulders, “you stop that right now, Miss Noelle. That thing can’t hurt me in ways that matter, and I would protect you again in a heartbeat. You’re the most important one here.”

Noelle stared up at her, and Haru briefly panicked as she saw the starstruck look appear in her eyes. Cursed herself for being too much like-.

“Chicky!” Muta slid suddenly into Haru’s line of sight, coming from a different path of the maze.

“Muta!”

“Chicken Wings has got its attention, but we gotta move,” he bellowed, rushing up and pushing the women along.

Then Toto flashed overhead. Then the beast crashed through the maze and found them again.

“Oh fuck.”

***

“Shit! Fuck! God dammit! Fucking fuck fuck!”

Another book crashed against the wall, falling to the floor and slumping with its other abused brethren. The other two in the room didn’t say anything, just watched their de facto leader curse and destroy her home.

At least, her forced home.

“Haru…” Toto spoke up, softly. A book thumped near his head. He had the decency to flinch just a little.

“Don’t even try, Toto!” she screamed, fisting the cloth of her long skirt between her hands. Tears streamed down her cheeks, matting the soft brown fur. She wiped at the furiously, releasing the now-wrinkled skirt.

Muta crossed the room without a word, pulling her roughly into his arms. She didn’t fight the hold, sinking into it with a choked back sob. He rubbed circles into her back, humming lightly until she could breath a little easier.

“I can’t… He’s gone… How do I-”

“I know kiddo,” he interrupted, “I know.”

***

“Oh,” she mumbled, pulling her hand away. It came back red.

Panic or bile rose in her throat. She couldn’t tell which. She looked up at the others. They were shouting. Calling. Baron looked so scared. She gave a loopy smile. Giggled, because what else could she do?

“Well, that’s not good.”

***

She settled into routine. Easy enough.

Wake up. Dress. Tea. Paperwork. Read. Attend to clients. Drink. Sleep.

It was a pattern, an easy dance she knew the steps by heart. She was just missing a partner.

But she couldn’t stop.

The Bureau needed someone.

She just didn’t want it to be her.

***

She made the mistake of changing into lighter clothes when she became too hot. His breath caught in his throat, scanning over the myriad of scars she’d gotten over their adventures.

“Oh, right,” she laughed, tugging her shorts down in the hopes it’d hide everything, “it’s pretty surprising to see.”

“You’re… So delicate, Haru,” he breathed out, touching the scar she’d gotten from the Devil’s claws slashing her back., though his eyes were glued to twisting flesh of her thigh. When the dragon decided she’d make for a good snack.

“Comes with being human,” she replied, shivering as he pulled his hand away. Her own hand ran up her arm, feeling the bumps and odd feeling flesh.

“Right.”

She didn’t like the look on his face.

***

“Well, case closed,” she declared, dropping the file into the stack with finality.

Next followed the clunk of a wine bottle onto the desk. Her desk, she had to remind herself. The original wasn’t coming back anytime soon. So, hers from now on.

She poured into her tea cup, swallowing a mouthful of milky tea and wine. It was disgusting, but she couldn’t be bothered to get another glass. She only had two of them left, after all these years. Curious dogs, natural catastrophes, and Muta to be blamed for her losses.

She sank back in the chair, rubbing at her temples in the hopes it would spare her the migraine. Immortal lifespan, mortal aches and pains. They just couldn’t haunt her like they did before.

“To another helped client,” she toasted the air, which quickly began to fill with the sounds of a commotion. She grimaced, turning the chair away from the door and raising her feet on the desk. Not her division.

“To another year of searching,” she finished. Another mouthful. And the same tolerance for alcohol after all these years. It was a special occasion tonight. The first in a long time she didn’t wake up and forget where she was.

The commotion grew louder outside.

***

“You’re going to need to be more specific, lass,” the witch grumbled, his eyes narrowed.

She slammed her fist on the table, standing to pace.

“I told you! Baron took me to Castle Wyvern. He pinned me with his spell, then summoned the Devil. The Devil came-!”

“I heard you the first time and every single time after, missy!” the witch shouted, “What I’m missing is what did this Baron ask for?”

“Look at me! He must have wished for me to be a Creation like him!”

“Did he wish for you to be a Creation, or have a Creation’s immortality?”

She stopped.

***

“Miss Haru?” the client, a little boy named Bertrand, asked her.

She stopped to look over at him, pausing in pouring the hot chocolate. He looked around the Bureau in wonder, before meeting her eyes again. He still was nervous around her. She couldn’t blame him. She still wasn’t used to the… New situation she was in.

“What’s up, sweets?” she prompted, plopping a snowflake shaped marshmellow in the drink.

“How’d you start the Cat Bureau? What’d you think of to give you that idea?”

She clenched her cup tightly, nails cracking into the porcelain. At least it wasn’t the… Other set.

***

The commotion grew louder outside, and Muta suddenly burst through the doors.

“Oh, don’t tell me I missed greeting another client,” Haru groaned, half out of exhaustion of the massive amount of cases lately, half out of disappointment of losing a chance to save whoever was out there from being dragged into the other Bureau members’ disputes.

“It ain’t a client, Chicky,” Muta panted, blocking the doorway, “not unless we’re taking ghosts for clients.”

“Ghosts?” Haru barked out a laugh, swirling the wine and tea combination still in her cup.

***

“I can’t risk losing her, even if it means I can never find her! Just give her everything!”

“How noble, knick-knack. Those your terms?”

“Yes. You will give her everything. Do you swear on that?”

“Every damn day.”

***

“Ghosts are like relatives, Muta, honestly,” she laughed at first, before it fell into almost disappointed whining. Still swirling that tea cup, hoping to keep herself from seeing her reflection.

“Chicky-”

***

“I didn’t actually start the Cat Bureau, Bertrand.”

“But you’re in charge of it?”

“Mmhmm, the one who created the Cat Bureau, well…”

***

“Once you let them in, Muta, Muta, dearest Muta, you just can’t get rid of them.”

“Chicky-!”

“Oh honestly, calm down. This wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had a ghost at the Sanctuary. Certainly enough of them here in this house. What did they say?”

***

“I inherited it from them.”

“Did they die?”

***

Forest was unfamiliar. Forest was cold.

Forest was pressed against his cheek.

Part of him told him that he should be concerned.

That this wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

He just didn’t know who “he” was.

***

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

***

“Chicky, it’s-!”

“Hello?” a voice asked, a head poking around Muta. The tea cup clattered against the desk, ruining the paperwork she’d spent all night doing.

Ginger hair, dark freckled face, so obviously not from around here.

Mint green eyes.

“I’m looking for the Cat Bureau? I was hoping I could get-.”

“Name,” she hissed. Wood splintered under her nails. “What’s your name?!”

He jerked back, confused and afraid.

***

“Who were they? What was their name? Are they that cat in the painting?”

“Oh no, that was someone else. But his name was…”

***

“Humbert. Humbert von Gikkingen”

#tcr #the cat returns #tcr secret santa 2019 #tcr secret santa #tcr au #tcrmommabear writes #tcrmommabear posts #dun dun dun!!!#i have no clue how baron found his way back to the cat bureau #but hes been alive and looking the same human shape for a long time #so something told him he was weird #ive only had bertrand for one prompt #but if anything happened to him id kill everyone in the room and myself #deadbonessinderhellaton #i hope you enjoyed!#cw swearing #i know you prefer that be tagged

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love-and-monsters · 6 years ago

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Alien Encounter Pt. Four: Stormy Night

Thunder rumbled so close to the house that I could feel the walls and floor tremble around me. Valain, lying several feet away in a mess of blankets, didn’t even flinch. The sheets of rain slamming against the roof and the constant howl of wind outside didn’t bother him either. I was pretty sure he was actually asleep.

I, on the other hand, was completely on edge. I’d been planetside only a few times before and most of those times had been in either an environmentally controlled area or during good weather. It was difficult to land or take off during storms, so pilots tended to avoid them, and being a space baby, I had minimal experience with bad weather.

It really didn’t help that a lot of the sounds and experiences of a storm, the thunder, the constant hammering on the walls, and the shuddering and swaying of the house, all resembled sounds that meant bad news on a spaceship. I kept expecting to hear the screech of warning sirens.

Needless to say, sleep was not coming easily.

The wind howled louder and a crack of thunder came so loud and close that I actually flinched. Even Valain stirred, tucking his tail fins over his face. The wind howled like a terrorized animal and just behind that, I could hear the creaking and groaning of tree branches. I fervently hoped it was not the tree branch we were sitting on.

There was another clap of thunder and the wind picked up. One of the windows near Valain banged open, sending sheets of rain into the room.

My instincts kicked in. I scrambled back, scrambling for anything to hold onto. Hull breach meant that anything not nailed down was going out in space, including, if I was not careful, myself. In the same moment, I gulped in a massive mouthful of air. The breach should be sealed by the automatic systems in a moment, but I needed to make sure I had enough air just in case the system was delayed-

A wet and sleepy Valain slammed the window shut and latched it. “Sorry about that,” he grumbled. “The windows here need fixing. The latches don’t always stand up to the strong storms.”

I let out my breath in a gasp. Valain stared at me. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Why are you against the wall?”

“Oh.” I realized that I had pressed my back against the wall and was digging my fingers into a wooden beam so hard that one of my nails had cracked. My knuckles ached from the force. With a little effort, I relaxed my fingers enough to release the wooden beam.

Valain crossed the room in a few quick bounds, settling next to me. “It’s okay,” he said in a soft, soothing voice. “It’s okay. Just breathe.”

I hadn’t realized how much I was gasping until he mentioned it to me. Gradually, I forced my breathing to slow. Another crack of thunder sounded outside and it took all my effort not to jump out of my skin. Valain’s ears twitched and he glanced toward the window, then back to me.

“Is it the storm?” he asked. “You seemed nervous when it started, but I thought maybe you just didn’t like the rain. Is it really that bad?”

I opened my mouth, closed it again, and swallowed my embarrassment. “I’m not scared of storms, really. I’m not a baby.” Valain said nothing, just tilted his head slightly and waited for me to continue. “Look, I’m not used to weather and this storm’s pretty intense.”

Valain let out a strange chuckle that he quickly swallowed when he saw my serious expression. “You’re not used to weather?” he repeated. “But how could you-” He paused. “Oh. You lived in space?”

“Most of the time, yeah. I’m a space baby. I grew up on a big colony ship and even when I left, I went to be a pilot. I get sunlight and even rain and stuff, but storms are just-” Thunder rumbled loud enough to drown out my voice and I couldn’t suppress a flinch. I could feel the sound in the walls of the house. Valain barely seemed to notice the sound. He was entirely focused on me.

“I’m afraid storms like this are only going to become more common,” he said. “It’s the beginning of the storm season now. When it hits its peak, there will be about five or six days of constant storm. Then they will become more infrequent again until the season ends.”

I stared at him. “How do you stand it?”

He shrugged. “It’s not as terrible as you seem to think. Everyone stays indoors and there are holidays we celebrate around that time. It’s peaceful. Usually I spent it with my family. For guards, it’s supposed to be a time of meditation and watchfulness.”

When I was watching Valain, it was easier to ignore the pounding of rain and the howling of wind. I could just listen to his soothing voice and watch his eager expression. I was so intent on watching him that the next bout of thunder startled me. I leapt, half reaching for a console to steer away from whatever was making that sound. It took me a moment to realize that I was still in Valain’s house.

He rose from his crouched position. “It’s all right. It’s just thunder. Just noise.” He smiled encouragingly. “The house is safe from lightning. The storm can’t hurt us.” He took me by one of my shoulders, squeezing gently. “This house has stood for many seasons of storms. Nothing is going to happen.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but it didn’t quite calm the pounding of my heart. The constant sheeting of rain against the window, the howling of wind, the constant rumble of thunder, all of it still set my teeth on edge. Valain’s ears twitched, his eyes searching my face. Then he took my hand and tugged me over to the area of the room I’d been sleeping in.

“Sit with me,” he said, pulling me down with him. As soon as I was sitting on the ground next to him, he tugged a blanket around my shoulders. It was heavy and warm and helped ground me where I was. I wasn’t in my spaceship. I was in Valain’s home and it was just a storm. He kept a hand on my back, fingernails scratching gently against my back.

The rain hammered against the house and there was still thunder outside, but it felt like there as a warm bubble surrounding the two of us. It didn’t make anything go away, just muted everything. It made it easier to ignore it.

Valain yawned, jaw clicking as he stretched it wide. “You can go back to sleep,” I said. “I’ll be okay.”

“Mmm,” he murmured, blinking heavily. “Are you sure? I don’t want to…” He cut himself off with another yawn. “I don’t want to leave you if you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” I scoffed. “I’m-” The house shuddered with another clap of thunder and I all but leapt into Valain’s lap. He raised an eyebrow, or at least the marks over his eyes that resembled eyebrows. “It’s startling,” I grumbled, creeping sheepishly away from him. His expression was gentle, still. Patient, without a trace of humor in it.

“I’m not making fun of you,” he said. “A lot of people get jumpy in these storms. But it’s all fine.” He ran a hand down my shoulder. “You need to sleep too.”

I grunted. Valain moved closer to me, letting his leg press against mine. His tail swished across the ground behind me, coming to rest just behind me. His yellow eyes were almost luminous in the dim room as he peered at me. “I could try to sleep,” I grumbled. “I just…” I hesitated. “Would you mind staying next to me? It’s a little bit easier if you’re here.”

Valain nodded immediately. He dragged the large, pillowy nest he used as a bed closer. His tail draped loosely over my back as he settled into the bed, pulling me down with him. Thunder banged and the wind howled. Valain’s tail coiled around me, adding some gentle pressure. It was soothing. “Good night,” he said. He curled like a sleeping cat, but his tail still rested next to me. Its delicate fins tickled against my skin. I stared at the opalescent patterns across its surface. They were almost hypnotic. Gradually, staring at them, I drifted off into sleep.

I woke to something pressed against me and something heavy across my back. I could hear and feel breath against my ear, ruffling my hair. Slowly, trying not to disturb Valain, I glanced at him.

In his sleep, he had crept closer to me. His tail had wound around one of my legs and one of his arms was slung over my back. His face was near mine, breathing deep and satisfied. A slight smile played on his lips and his fins twitched slightly. When I tried to move away, his expression shifted to discontent. He mewled and his fingers tightened on my shirt.

Hesitantly, I stopped moving. His expression relaxed and his chin settled on my shoulder. A content sigh escaped him. I glanced around the room. It was still dim outside, so I couldn’t tell what time it was. I was pretty sure I couldn’t fall asleep again with an alien wrapping himself around me.

Valain twitched, lifting one of his hands to rub at his face. A few strands of my hair had fallen across his face. As he turned his head away, his eyelids fluttered. Gradually, he stirred, moving back toward consciousness. His eyes blinked open and he peered at me from a short distance away.

He bolted upright, eyes wild. “I- you-”

I sat up, untangling my legs from his tail. “Are you always so cuddly in your sleep?”

“Wh- I-” Valain still seemed to be rebooting. His bright yellow eyes were as wide as I’d ever seen them and he seemed to be retreating into himself. His tail tucked close to his body and his fins were completely flat against his head. “You were- I didn’t mean- I’m sorry!”

“It’s not like you hurt me or anything. It’s all right.” Valain stumbled back away from me, tripping over pillows. I stared at him. “Are you okay?”

He swallowed hard a few times, then spoke in a soft, shaky voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. I apologize immensely. I don’t know… how do I make this up to you?”

Valain looked positively stricken as he stared at me. I lifted a shoulder in a small shrug. “You don’t have to make anything up to me. It was an accident. You were asleep.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed. His cheeks were deep blue, which I took to mean he was blushing.

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal,” I said. A little tension leeched out of Valain’s muscles. He slumped back, tail coiling close around himself. “So, are you always so cuddly in your sleep?”

Valain shrugged. “Not that I know of. I’ve never been told I am.” He scratched at the floor with his claws. “If I had known I would do that, I would have just offered you the bed and slept elsewhere.”

“You didn’t need to do that. It’s not like I minded.”

He frowned. “You didn’t?”

“I mean, it was a little startling, but I’ve been here for a long time without a whole lot of other people. It was nice, being hugged.”

Valain didn’t seem like he knew what to do with that information. He stared at me for a moment, tail waving uncertainly, fins twitching. Finally, he sighed and let out a small laugh. “Well, I’m glad you’re not mad at me.” He stretched, then stood. “The storm’s over, at least. I should probably go and do a patrol while it’s still clear out.”

He gathered his bag and changed into his patrol uniform, waved goodbye, then ran off into the forest. I sat by the doorway, watching the forest as the sun rose and feeling the phantom traces of Valain’s arms around me.

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #alien boyfriend #alien #monsterxhuman

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ikhnyshy · 5 years ago

Note

How about a Shicca AU with Shiki as a vampire and Rebecca as a Frankenstein Monster?

Sorry for taking so long in the Request, but I’ve been so busy lately! This is the first time that I wrote a fic based on monsters, so I hope that you like this! Thanks for the idea, I really enjoyed writing this :)

Request #1Fandom: Edens Zero | Pairing: SHICCA| One-shot |

Monsters.

She felt a stabbing pain in each of her joints, her head was spinning and her body seemed too heavy. Still, she forced herself to open her eyes.

It was nighttime. The room where she found herself was completely dark. She struggled for a moment to get up, finally able to sit on the stretcher where she had been laying. She looked around confused; in the darkness she could barely see the silhouettes of some objects scattered all over the place but couldn’t recognize any of them.

She lowered her feet slowly, testing her stability before fully rising. Her legs felt strange, foreign. Rebecca couldn’t identify what was so different about them, but for a moment it seemed like they weren’t her own. She walked slowly, considering carefully each step she took, in fear of being unable to support the weight of her own body, until her foot ran into a soft but sturdy element. When she looked down, she stifled a cry of terror recognizing the person lying on the floor…

“Doctor Steiner? “ She called, expecting some reaction from the old man.

She extended her hand to try and shake his shoulder, to wake him up, but when she saw her own fingers Rebecca couldn’t stop the chill that ran through her spine… her hand was all connected with sutures as if they were pieces of a rag doll. Her eyes slid down the arms finding more seams that crisscrossed her skin; she found the same on her legs and when she touched her face she discovered the textures of the threads also on her cheeks. She felt the anguish rise in her throat, burning the sockets of her eyes, but the tears did not come out…

“Meow…” the sound dispersed her state of shock, she looked around until she saw her cat sitting on Steiner’s desk.

“Happy…” she approached and stroked his head gently. “You’re fine…” The little cat purred enjoying the affectionate gesture. Then he got out of the desk jumping towards the doctor. Rebecca looked at her hands. She flexed her fingers, feeling the tension of the sutures and wondered what the hell had happened to her, why she had those marks on her skin. Then she turned her attention back to the old man lying on the floor and decided that the only one who could answer her questions was him.

“We have to help the doctor.” she told the cat that only looked at her with his huge dark eyes. “But I have no idea … I don’t even know what happened to him and to ask for help … in these conditions…”

Steiner’s lab was isolated on top of a hill, but at the base there was a modest small town of humble houses. Maybe some of the neighbors could help her, but Rebecca didn’t feel safe with her strange appearance; besides, the entire town seemed asleep, not a single light peeked through the windows of the houses… except …

The girl looked up at the hill opposite to the doctor’s. A dark and terrifying castle stood tall with an imposing air. One of its windows filtered a warm light. Rebecca swallowed, convincing herself that, possibly, the inhabitant of that fortress may be the only one willing to help her in that sleeping town.

...

She covered her body with one of the doctor’s long gowns and hid the most extensive suture of her face leaving some of her hair falling forward.

Anyway, the disguise was unnecessary, because the streets of the town were completely deserted. The stone surface was still wet by the storm that broke out that afternoon, the humidity brought a ghostly fog that filled the place with a gloomy atmosphere.

The castle looked even more sinister up close, with its high walls and twisted towers. Rebecca had never dared to go there before, rumors about its inhabitants abounded among the dark stories of the town and she had had no intention of proving their truthfulness.

She pushed the metallic gates, anxiety running inside her with an adrenaline rush. Happy followed her with a cautious step walking beside her. She could see that her cat was as scared as she was but her companion would not abandon her in a situation like that. For a moment, the girl forgot about her reckless adventure and felt real gratitude for her furry partner.

The main door was made of thick wood, she knocked on it doubtfully, without getting an answer. She found the window where the lonely light she saw in the distance came from and tried again. The door opened slowly with the grinding sound of its rusty metal hinges. Rebecca waited for someone to receive her but there was no one behind the door. She gathered courage and entered.

Inside the castle, darkness was barely cut by the dim light outside. Her footsteps rumbled, the echo echoing in the large room they had entered. The blond-haired girl felt a chill that ran through her body showing her nervousness…

“He-hello,” her trembling voice rumbled in the distance. Suddenly, she felt that she wasn’t alone in that place. That several eyes were on her. ”I need help.” She continued, regaining some courage.

A fluttering sound was heard above her head. Looking up she found that the ceiling was exaggeratedly high. Something was between the beams that crossed the vast hall, but she could not distinguish its shape.

“Anyone here?” She asked, although she felt the presence around her “My friend is hurt and … Aaaah!”

A black large thing fell from the ceiling and rose in front of her, scaring her so that she fell to the ground. Happy howled in fright and hid behind her back. Rebecca was trembling like a leaf watching as the figure before her seemed to grow menacingly.

“Did you say ‘friend’?” Asked a friendly and enthusiastic voice. The blonde nodded slightly, surprised at the change in the surrounding atmosphere. She was no longer afraid of the dreary place or the stranger in front of her. “I’m Shiki!” He said extending his hand. “Do you want to be my friend?”

“¿Eh?”

Rebecca rose from the ground slowly and returned the gesture offering her hand doubtfully. She felt cold fingers make contact with hers and struggled to not withdraw her hand, impressed by the strange sensation. The hand that clung to hers was tense and trembled slightly, it seemed that he was even more nervous than she was.

“I’m Rebecca” She said as a greeting while giving him a small smile, feeling more relaxed ”And he is Happy”

“Is he your friend?”

“ Yes, he is also my friend.”

“What do you say little buddy? Will you be my friend too?”

Shiki caresed Happy’s head and the little cat gave a sympathetic meow. The girl felt a calm that contrasted with all the fear she felt just moments ago. Although she couldn’t see the boy’s face, she perceived that it was someone kind and reliable.

“Check this out!” He exclaimed with exaggerated joy, turning his head towards the ceiling. “I made new friends!”

A flurry of flutters filled the silence. Rebecca looked up to find hundreds of red eyes that shone through the gloom of the room. They were small dark silhouettes whose contours were drawn by the low light that entered from the windows.

Her eyes returned to the boy, who rose from the ground to approach her. The faint luminous halo from the outside bathed his shape revealing the paleness of his skin, the dark circles surrounding his black eyes and (most outstandingly) the huge fangs that peeked through his mouth. The girl took a step back, stifling a scream …

“Rebecca?” She heard him calling her. The boy approached worriedly and bowed his head looking for her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“You’re a vampire…”

“Yes, I am,” he answered simply “Are you human?”

The question took her by surprise, before the answer came from her lips, Rebecca looked at her hands, the sutures that united the pale fingers to the palms, whether she was human or not … she wasn’t sure anymore …

“It doesn’t matter” Shiki said after the awkward silence. “A vampire and a … Rebecca, can be friends.” The blonde girl looked up to see the vampire’s kind smile. She returned the gesture and nodded, feeling comforted.

“Of course”

“Did you all hear that?” Shouted the boy raising his head to the ceiling.”I made new friends! Just like Grandfather said”

His voice echoed in the immense hall, again a growing sound of fluttering was heard. Rebecca looked up to see hundreds of diffuse spots moving across the ceiling, waving their tiny translucent wings. The noise grew louder, as the figures descended, approaching menacingly. Happy ran to the blonde girl and jumped into her arms in fear, her body froze in fear as she tried to guess what the creatures flying messily towards them were…

“Bats!” She shouted when she finally recognized the silhouettes approaching them.

“Friends!” Shiki said in the same moment.

They were hundreds of bats, flapping their wings around them, squealing and crashing into each other. Rebecca felt a chill that woke her from her momentary paralysis and began to run towards the exit with Happy curled up and trembling in her arms.

“Wait, Rebecca!” Shiki exclaimed, who had bats perched on his shoulders and on his head. “They are my friends”

The girl didn’t listen to him, the impression was too intense. The entrance door looked too far for her taste and when she was reaching it, a black curtain of dozens of bats blocked her way.

“Let me out, please!”

“Don’t go,” Shiki asked slowly approaching. “You don’t want to be our friend?”

Rebecca stopped and looked at the vampire behind her. Over the boy’s head one of the bats had settled between his messy black hair to fall asleep comfortably and when he raised his arm to stop her, about five more perched on his limb. The girl looked down at her cat that was still in her arms and understood what Shiki felt for the creatures around them.

Some of them flew around her, but they didn’t touch her. Most watched her curiously with their expressive red eyes, some making high-pitched screams but none seemed threatening, in fact … they were quite friendly.

Before she could answer Shiki’s question, a prolonged and plaintive howl was heard in the distance. The bats began to freak out, to fly in messy circles around them, ascending to the beams that crossed the high ceiling of the fortress. The vampire tried to calm his friends, but a new howl caused the little creatures to get even more altered.

For his part, Happy was trembling against his friend’s chest, who decided to approach the window to guess the source of the sound.

The full moon looked immense in the dark night sky, the clouds that once populated the sky had disappeared, leaving only the satellite that emitted an intense, almost unnatural light.

The sound was heard again. Rebecca turned her gaze to where she believed it originated, finding Dr. Steiner’s lab on the opposite hill. A strange figure, human, but twisted, stood on the roof of the building …

“Doctor!” She exclaimed and started running towards the exit, dodging the flying creatures that still flew in terror around the room.

“Rebecca, wait!” Shiki shouted, but she ignored him. The doctor still needed her help, and with that strange thing wandering in his laboratory… she didn’t want to think about the danger that could lurk the old man.

She left the castle still running, there was a long way to cross the village and reach the opposite hill, but she was determined to go to Steiner as fast as her legs allowed, however strange they felt.

Something took her by the arms and lifted her through the air. When she looked up in fright, Shiki returned a smile, giving her security. Huge black wings stretched behind him, which flapped elegantly and carried them at high speed above the sleeping town. Rebecca was relieved by the “ride” and for some reason, she thought that with Shiki at her side she could defend the doctor from whatever was around the laboratory.

...

Nothing was like when she left to go for help. It seemed that a hurricane had hit the place, but they knew that the responsable had nothing to do with hurricanes … the damage inside the laboratory was the work of a creature, quite large and violent.

The doctor’s research papers were shattered, as if something “canine” had taken them with its teeth. The stretcher where Rebecca woke up just a few hours ago, was brutally torn, with marks that seemed made by pronounced bites …

The shelves that were previously full of books were thrown to the floor, the wood of the furniture had deep marks of long nails.

But what most filled Rebecca with anguish and fear was the absence of the doctor’s body.

There were no traces of her friend, but no signs of blood either …

“Maybe he left before “that” arrived” Shiki proposed seeing the concern in his new friend.

“It may be, but … Where would the doctor go at this time?” she asked with uncertainty.

“Maybe he woke up and not seeing you here … he went looking for you”

“Do you think he’s out there?”

The howl echoed again in the stillness of the night. This time much closer to them.

A cold and paralyzing sensation ran through her chest. The palpitations accelerated as panic seemed to invade her. Rebecca didn’t want to let fear blind her, they had to think about how to get out of there without drawing the beast’s attention, but before she could think of something, a dark figure knocked down the entrance door.

The labored breathing and the sound of sharp nails scraping the floor gave the clear signal of the creature’s presence in the place. Shiki stepped in front of her, with his arms outstretched and an expression of fierce determination…

“Shiki …”

“I’ll take care of it,” he said confidently. “I won’t let it hurt my friends”

The vampire’s eyes lit up with a crimson glow, his fangs grew over his lips to barely touching his chin and spread his wings, hiding Rebecca and Happy from the approaching beast.

“I won’t leave you fighting alone. We also know how to defend ourselves”

With Shiki on her side, her courage rose above her fears. She stood right next to the vampire, raising her fists, ready to fight with whatever threatened them. Her legs were still shaking, but she was not overcome by fear. She would fight with her new friend to survive …

The beast had its body covered with hair, its yellow eyes flashing through the darkness and its large and powerful teeth stood out its open mouth with the drool hanging down the fur of its chin. He was standing on two legs that looked canines and his arms fell heavily forward, dragging his claws against the ground.

Rebecca lowered her guard distinguishing the remains of torn clothes that still covered the creature. The pants looked the same the doctor was wearing and the gown covering his hairy torso still had the badge that identified the owner of the laboratory …

“Doctor Steiner…”

The creature fixed its eyes on her, a guttural growl answered her words. The tension in the environment became dense and suffocating, uncertainty surrounded them filling them with doubts. The animal in front of them was breathing with difficulty, perhaps agitated, watching them attentively and motionless, as if measuring their next actions. Until suddenly, he raised his head to the ceiling and gave a sharp howl that seemed to bring the anguish of a condemned man. Then, in a rapid and unexpected movement, the beast jumped out the window breaking the glass and got lost in the darkness of the night.

“Doctor, wait…”

Rebecca ran to the window and poked her head, hoping (at least) to distinguish the direction in which he escaped. Finding nothing, she turned to Shiki …

“We have to find him” she told him and looked at her fingers, feeling the tension of the sutures that joined her phalanges “The doctor is my friend and.. he is the only one who can help me”

“We will find him.” Shiki answered confidently. “It seems that an adventure awaits us.”

She smiled at the enthusiasm of her new friend. Although she was worried about the doctor, she trusted that together with the vampire they could find him, help him and know the truth about the sutures that mysteriously joined the skin of her body.

That full moon night became the beginning of a long search that would take them on great adventures. They will meet new companions and friends. They will get answers to more than one of their doubts and discover the secret behind the vampire’s past, a hidden truth that he had no idea…

Thanks for Reading…

#Fanfic #Request #Shicca #Edens Zero #shiki granbell #rebecca #shiki x rebecca

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vgckwb · 5 years ago

Text

ML: Are They Worthy? Chapter 1: A New Student!/Receiver Deceiver

Marinette arrived at school to her Adrien talking with Alya. She looked on, too nervous to go up and say anything. Adrien saw her and called out to her. “Hey Marinette!” he said.

Marinette smiled, and then rushed up, only to trip on her way there. When she got there she said “Hey Adrien. What’s up?”

“Well, Alya and I were just talking, and-” before Adrien could finish what he was saying, an unfamiliar car pulled up to the school. It caught the attention of the three, rendering them. It was a white limo. An assistant walked out of the front of the car to open the back door.

A student around their age stepped out of the limo. He had blond, downward spiky hair, red eyes, a purple button up shirt, a brown zip up hoodie that was completely unzipped, a ring on his right middle finger that has an extended section on the outside so it goes up the finger narrowing to a point, black jeans, and black shoes. As he steps out, he looks up. His eyes light up and he calls out “ADRIEN!”

“Vlad?” said Adrien, confused, which in turn confused the two girls.

Vlad ran up the stairs and gave him a hug. “Man, it’s so good to see you again.”

“Adrien, aren’t you going to tell us who your BFF is here? I’m sure Nino will be jealous” said Alya.

“Sorry” said Adrien, breaking the hug. “This is Vlad. A fellow model. He’s from Toulouse, so I don’t get to see him terribly often. Just at high-end events. But, what are you doing here?”

Vlad smirked. “My family moved” he said. “We live here now, and I go to school here now. Isn’t it great? I didn’t expect to go to the same school as you. What are the chances?”

Adrien was shocked, but then he smiled and said “That’s great Vlad. Don’t hesitate to ask me anything. Or Marinette here, for that matter” he gestured towards her. “She’s the class rep.”

“Is that so?” said Vlad, looking at Marinette.

“Come on” said Adrien. “We better get to class before the bell rings.” The four walked over to class.

At the beginning of class, Ms. Bustier introduces Vald. “This is Vlad Brodeur. He just moved here from Toulouse, and he’s joining our class today.” The class gives applause. “Since there’s no other room,” siad Ms. Bustier, “why don’t you sit next to Lila?”

Adrien grew worried. “Wait!” he said, surprising everyone else. “Um, it’s just that I think Vlad might benefit from being up front. So, I’ll move to the back.”

Marinette scowled at the thought of Adrien sitting next to Lila, but Vlad smiled. “It’s OK Adrien” he said. “I’ll be fine back there, trust me. Besides, if anything happens,” he said, turning to Ms. Bustier, “I’ll take full responsibility for it.”

“Well, I don’t see a problem then” said Ms. Bustier. “Please take your seat, and we’ll get started.” Vlad walked to his seat, while Adrien looked concerned. Marinette, meanwhile, is confused by all of this.

Later, at the start of a free period, Marinette is leaves the classroom and rushes to the library. Meanwhile, Lila begins talking with Vlad. “So, what was that about earlier with Adrien?”

“Oh, it’s nothing” said Vlad. “Adrien and I go back, so he knows me well. He thought I might have a problem sitting next to you.”

“What a silly thing to say,” said Lila, trying to hide her rage.

“Don’t worry about it. Adrien’s just a bit over overprotective. Which is odd, considering his dad.”

“Yeah, well you know what they say. ‘Like father, like son’” said Lila. “So, why was Adrien concerned?”

“Do you want me to be honest?” said Vlad. Lila nodded. “Well, I’m not the easiest person to get along with. And from what Adrien tells me, neither are you.” Lila was shocked, while Vlad continued to smirk. “Anyway, I gotta go. I need to talk with Marinette. Adrien says that within seconds of getting to know her we’ll be fast friends. I wanna see if that’s true” Lila grew furious as Vlad left.

Marinette was in the library, looking at fashion magazines and articles about Vlad. “Whatcha doin’ Marinette?” said Alya. This shocked Marinette, as she flung her materials about. Alya picked one up and said “Don’t tell me a third boy has caught your attention. Pretty soon, you’ll have your own ‘reverse harem’, as Nathaniel calls it.”

“Very funny” said Marinette. “It’s not that. Ever since Adrien was concerned about Vlad sitting next to Lila, I got curious.”

“Yeah, that was super weird” said Alya.

“So, I’m doing research on Vlad. I’m trying to figure out what the problem is. Maybe I could fix it” said Marinette. “I doubt it” she said under her breath.

“Why do you get it straight from the source?” said Vlad, showing up to meet them.

“Well, I, uh” said Marinette, flustered.

“It’s fine” said Vlad. “Miss, Alya was it?” Alya nodded. “Would you mind leaving the two of us alone?”

“No way! Marinette’s my friend! If you have something to say to her, you can say it to me” said Alya.

“It’s fine” said Marinette. “I’m sure Vlad would just like some privacy on the matter. It’s OK. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, if he’s as troublesome as you think, you run away and give me a call right away!” said Alya.

Alya left. Vlad sat down across from Marinette. “A lot of overprotective people today” he said.

“Well, when something’s worth protecting, you want to keep it safe” said Marinette.

“You mean that much to her? I like that” said Vlad.

“So, why was Adrien concerned about you sitting in the back?” Marinette asked.

“I’m going to be real” said Vlad. “I’m a bit rough around the edges sometimes. Adrien told me that Lila is a chronic liar. I just can’t stand people like that.”

“Oh” said Marinette, surprised by Vlad’s directness.

“Of course, it’s a little deeper than that,” said Vlad. “I’m not one who trusts people easily. I need to get to know them. Adrien has spoken highly of you-”

“Adrien spoke of me?!” said a giddy Marinette.

Vlad looked at this and laughed to himself. “But I want to hear from you. Why should I trust you as class rep?”

Marinette was taken aback by this question. She was confused on how to answer for a second, but then she thought to answer Vlad’s honesty with her own. “The truth is, if you got to know me, I don’t know how much you would trust me. I’m clumsy, and I’m prone to mistakes. But I love my class. I will fight for them, and do whatever it takes to make them happy. Or keep them safe…”

“Has the need for that arisen before?” Vlad asked.

“Well, yeah” said Marinette. “Before I became class rep, a villain attack our class. I somehow managed to organize everyone to keep them safe as long as I could before Ladybug and Cat Noir showed up.”

While Marinette was explaining the Dark Blade attack, a small yawn came from Vlad’s hoodie pocket. Then came the sniffing. A mysterious small creature kept to the shadows, and rose to Vlad’s head to whisper something in his ear. Vlad nodded to the creature. The creature then returned to Vlad’s pocket.

“So, basically, that’s what happened” said Marinette.

“Wow. Adrien was right about you” Vlad said. Marinette grew nervous. What did Adrien think about her? What did he tell Vlad? “You are easy to get along with. I’m sure we’ll become good friends.” Marinette sighed a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, Adrien was chatting with Nino before Lila approached him. “Adrien. A word.”

“Sorry Nino” he said, before getting dragged off. Once they were alone, Adrien asked “Is this about Vlad?”

“What do you think?” Lila hissed.

“Look, Vald’s a nice guy, but he can be a bit forward sometimes” said Adrien. “I’m sure whatever he said, you can take it with a grain of salt.”

“He told me you told him I’m not the easiest person to get along with!” Lila howled. Adrien was shocked, and then determined.

Back in the library, Vlad gets a call. He checks his phone before answering. “It’s Adrien” he says. “Hey, do you want to listen in?”

“Ummmmmm” said Marinette.

“It’ll be fine” said Vlad. He puts the phone on speaker, and sets it on the table. “Hey Adrien. What’s up?” He gestures to Marinette to keep quiet.

“Did you tell Lila I said she wasn’t easy to get along with?” said Adrien

“Yeah. Isn’t that what you told me?” Vlad asked.

“I didn’t say that” said Adrien.

“You told me she lies a lot” said Vlad. “I don’t see the difference.”

Adrien looked at Lila, and covered his mouth. “Just because she lies doesn’t mean she’s not easy to get along with. I think that if we can show her kindness, she’ll change her ways.”

“Look Adrien, you know I love you and all, but you gotta stop giving people the benefit of the doubt” said Vlad.

“Maybe you should trust people more” said Adrien.

“Tomato, to-mah-to” said Vlad. “But I will say, you were right about Marinette.”

“Huh? You spoke to her?” said Adrien.

“Yeah. She’s with me now” said Vlad. “Say hi Marinette.”

“Uhhhhhh, hi?” said Marinette.

“See? We’re the best of friends” said Vlad.

“Yeah, well, don’t go around telling people I said things I didn’t say” said Adrien, hanging up. “Well, I just talked with him, and as I suspected it was a misunderstanding.”

“‘Misunderstanding’?” said Lila. “You told him something unflattering about me behind my back!”

“Well, uh, nobody’s perfect?” said Adrien.

Lila stormed off. “You’re going to regret this!” She entered the bathroom and made sure no one was there. She took out her phone and gave a call.

At the Agreste Manor, Gabriel receives a phone call. He answers it “Gabriel Agreste.”

“Akumatize me!” demanded Lila.

Gabriel smiled. “I thought I felt a vengeful presence.” He hangs up and goes into the elevator.

In Hawkmoth’s lair, the window opens and Hawkmoth monologues to himself. “I feel the presence of someone who just found out that people were talking about her behind her back.” He enfuses his energy into a butterfly. “Fly away my little Akuma, and evilize this poor soul!” The Akuma flies off. It arrives at Françoise Dupont High School, enters the girl’s restroom, and fuses with Lila’s phone.

“Receiver Deceiver! I am Hawkmoth. Somebody said something bad about you in an online message? Well, don’t worry. You’re not alone. And with your powers, you will be able to expose it all. All I ask for in return is Ladybug and Cat Noir’s miraculous!”

“It’s as good as done” said Lila. A purple-black aura forms around her. When it dissipates, we see a figure with blue boot, a jumpsuit that was orange on the sides and white in the middle, blue gloves, a blue ring on one hand, a blue phone in the other hand, and a blue cell phone screen where the head should be. The screen lights up to reveal an orange light and Lila’s face on the screen. She looks at her phone and gives it a call.

Class is starting and everyone takes their seats. Sabrina’s phone goes off. “Sabrina, why isn’t you phone silenced?” Ms. Bustier asked.

“It was,” said Sabrina. She took out her phone to see what was up. The screen flashed, and then Receiver Deceiver appeared out of it. The class gasped.

“I am Receiver Deceiver!” she said. “And I’m going to make you regret everything you say in secret! Starting with this!” Receiver Deceiver had a piece of mail in her hand. She opened it up, changed Lila’s face for Sabrina’s, and started reading it in Sabrina’s voice. “‘Thanks dad. After spending time with Chloe, I could use some ice cream. I mean, Chloe’s great and all, but today she’s just being meaner than usual. Maybe she’ll be nicer tomorrow. Love you!’”

Chloe was shocked at what she had heard. “Chloe, I-” said Sabrina.

“How COULD YOU?!” Chloe screamed. Receiver Deceiver then aimed her ring at Chloe and hit her with a beam Chloe’s eyes turned red. “YOU THINK I’M MEAN?! YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW THE MEANING OF THE WORD!” She charged at Sabrina, while Sabrina ran away from her.

“Too easy” said Receiver Deceiver.

Marinette looked stunned at what was happening. Alya had her phone out. “Alya?! What are you doing?!”

“I’m filming this for the Ladyblog! Ladybug is bound to show up soon” said Alya.

Receiver Deceiver saw this, and called Alya’s phone. She disappeared from where she was and was now hovering by Alya and Marinette. She had another piece of mail. She opened it, changed to Alya’s face, and started reading it in Alya’s voice. “‘Honestly Nino, what did you expect? I’m sure if Marinette were here on time, she’d trip over her own feet and drop the sweets. I love her and all, but that girl is clumsy.” Alya looked at Marinette in disbelief.

“Alya…” said Marinette.

Vlad saw Receiver Deceiver ready her ring and aim it at Marinette. He got up from his seat and ran over. “LOOK OUT!” he said, as he charged at Receiver Deceiver, who had fired her beam. Vlad was quick enough so that the beam hit him and that he tackled Receiver Deceiver. Since the message wasn’t about him, he wasn’t put under her control.

“What are you doing?” Receiver Deceiver asked.

“If you want to air some dirty laundry, why don’t we start with that ridiculous getup” said Vlad.

Marinette was shocked at what had just happened. She then looked at the class and came up with an idea. “EVERYONE! TURN OFF YOUR PHONES!” she yelled. Everyone looked toward her. “She might not be able to access a device that is off!” Vlad smiled. Everyone listened to Marinette and turned off their phone.

Receiver Deceiver grew angry. “Look at that, your plan worked Marinette” said Vlad.

“Don’t think you’re so lucky!” said Receiver Deceiver. She raced into the computer on Ms. Bustier’s desk.

“She got away” said Alya.

“Come on, we gotta warn the school!” said Marinette.

“Right. To the principal's office!” said Ms. Bustier. Everyone left the room. The last person to leave was Sabrina, who closed the door on Chloe. Chloe then glared at Sabrina once she got back up.

The students and Ms. Bustier ran to Mr. Damocles’s office. However, before they could open the door, Mr. Damocles rampaged out. “‘Childish?! Immature?! Not a good way to teach?!’ I’ll have you Ms. Bustier that Knightowl taught me countless valuable lessons as a kid. They are extremely applicable in teaching children!” Ms. Bustier was being confronted by Mr. Damocles.

The class saw Receiver Deceiver behind him. “Oops” she said, before disappearing into her phone.

“It’s no use, we can’t warn the school like this” said Alya.

“Uh, I think we’d be too late anyway” said Nino, looking down. Everyone else looked over to see a bunch of people with glowing red eyes congregating in the courtyard.

“We have to leave! It our only way of being safe” said Marinette.

“How are we going to get through them all?” Adrien asked.

“SABRINA!” growled Chloe. She was right in front of them now, and Mr. Damocles was on the other side.

Vlad got an idea. “Adrien! Orleans!” Adrien nodded in agreement, took off his white button up shirt, and gave it to Vlad. Vlad took off his own jacket and started tying the two together.

“Everyone, give your excess clothing to Vlad!” Adrien shouted. Marinette took off her jacket. Alya took off her button up shirt. Nathanial took off his jacket. Mylene took off her sweatshirt. Kim took off his sweatshirt. Ms. Bustier took off her button up shirt. Finally, Sabrina took off her sweater vest. Vlad tied them all together in a rope as quickly as possible. He tied it to a pole and let it down. “Alright, climb down!” he said. Ms. Bustier went first, and soon the whole class was down by the entrance. The last person to come down was Vlad. Once he was down, he whipped the makeshift rope and freed it from the pole. He untied everything and gave it back to everyone just as fast as he had tied it. “Now let’s go!” he said. The entire class was running out the door. Eventually, they spread out. Marinette was hiding behind the street pole sign. She made sure no one was looking and then called out “Tikki! Spots On!” She then transformed into Ladybug. She lept into action.

But someone was watching. Not too far from her was Vlad, who saw everything. “Aren’t you going to help her?” said the small creature, still encased in shadows.

“Not yet” said Vlad. “I wanna see how she does as Ladybug.”

Meanwhile, Adrien was hiding behind the stairs. “We gotta do something” he said, letting Plagg out. “Plagg! Claws Out!” Adrien then transformed into Cat Noir. Cat Noir also jumped into the fray.

Ladybug and Cat Noir met each other in front of the school. “Good to see you, M’Lady” said Cat Noir. “Shall we?”

“Of course” said Ladybug. They both entered the school. “Alright Receiver Deceiver! Show yourself!”

Receiver Deceiver popped out of a student’s phone with a piece of mail. Her screen had changed to the face of that student, and she began reading in their voice. “Honestly, why does Cat Noir need to be there? Ladybug is the only person whose powers are actually useful. Cat Noir just gets in the way.” Cat Noir’s jaw dropped. Receiver Deceiver aimed her ring at Cat Noir and fired, but Ladybug blocked the beam with her yo-yo.

“Cat Noir! You know that’s not true, right? You’re just as important to the team” said Ladybug.

Cat Noir snapped out of it. “Of course, M’Lady. Your opinion is the only one that matters to me.”

Receiver Deceiver scowled. “Grrrrrrrrr. GET THEM!” she called to her minions. The crowd that had been taken under control of Receiver Deceiver started charging toward Ladybug and Cat Noir.

“The Akuma must be in the phone” said Ladybug.

“Then I suggest we get it before the bell tolls for us” said Cat Noir. Ladybug and Cat Noir kept avoiding the crowd and charged ahead to get to Receiver Deceiver. Before Cat Noir and Ladybug could get to her though, she disappeared into her phone.

“Well, that’s not fair,” said Cat Noir. “Talk about a bad reception.”

The deceived horde came after Ladybug and Cat Noir again. “Cat Noir, the roof!” said Ladybug.

“Good thinking” said Cat Noir. They both hopped to the roof. “So, now they can’t get us, but we can’t get close to Receiver Deceiver because she’ll keep running away.”

“We need to make her come to us,” said Ladybug. She called out her power. “Lucky Charm!” A flash drive appeared. “A flash drive?”

“Do you need to download something maybe?” said Cat Noir.

“Maybe” said Ladybug. “Let’s head to the library and see what’s on it.”

“Got it!” said Cat Noir. Ladybug and Cat Noir hopped down to head to the library, defending themselves against the horde. They made it to the library and Ladybug checked the flash drive. “Empty” she said. However, she looks at the files on the computer, then her yo-yo, then the flash drive, then the modem in the library, and finally Cat Noir. “Of course!” She started to load the files onto the flash drive. Once she had all the files, she moved to the next computer to load those files, and so on.

Meanwhile, Receiver Deceiver was going around town putting people under her spell. Between appearances, she was traveling through an electrified tunnel filled with all sorts of messages. She would grab one, and then read it hoping to provoke a response. However, on the way to her next victim, Receiver Deceiver was suddenly flooded with incoming messages. There were too many to keep track of, and they were burying the older messages. Receiver Deceiver grabbed a message. She found that it was filled with a bunch of operating jargon. She saw that the other messages were similarly filled with reports, ebooks, or other operating jargon. She looked, and it was all coming from one source. She fled to the source and appeared in the library, out of Ladybug’s yo-yo phone.

“About time” said Ladybug, taking the flash drive out of her yo-yo. “Cat Noir! Now!”

“Cataclysm!” he called out. He touched the library’s modem, which black out the internet in the entire library. “We’ve got your number now!” said Cat Noir.

“You can’t run away any more” said Ladybug.

“I can still fight!” said Receiver Deceiver, as she threw a punch at Ladybug. Ladybug blocked it. She and Ladybug got locked into combat, giving ample time for Cat Noir to steal her phone out of her hand. He jumped, grabbed the phone, did a flip, and then sent the phone hurtling toward the ground, smashing it. “See kitty? What did I tell you?” said Ladybug. “You’re an important part of the team, and you know it.”

“Never doubted it for a second,” said Cat Noir.

Receiver Deceiver froze in her tracks.The Akuma flew out of the phone. “No more evil doing for you, little Akuma” said Ladybug, readying her yo-yo to capture the Akuma. She catches it and says “Gotcha. Bye-bye little butterfly” she said, releasing the butterfly. She threw up the flash drive and called out “Miraculous Ladybug!” The magic ladybugs flew all over, fixing the damage caused by Receiver Deceiver.

The purple-black aura surrounded Receiver Deceiver and changed her back to Lila. “Ugh, what happened?” said Lila.

“Pound it!” said Ladybug and Cat Noir. Their jewelry then started to flash.

“Uh, gotta go” said Ladybug. “Are you OK here by yourself?”

Lila nodded. “Yes” she said.

“Then bug out!” she said, leaving, with Cat Noir leaving in a different direction.

At Hawkmoth’s lair, the super villain was cursing his latest attempt. “I’ll soon figure out who you really are Ladybug and Cat Noir. Then the public will know too. Then everyone will be talking about it!”

Meanwhile, afternoon classes are about to start, and Ms. Bustier’s class is getting seated. Lila walks into the room solemnly. “I just want to say...I’m sorry,” she said, in a tone she hoped would garner sympathy.

“What do you have to apologize for?” said Vlad. Everyone looked at him confused.

“Um, did you not see that she turned into a freakish super villain with access to our phones?” said Alya.

“Of course” said Vlad. “But I also stated at the beginning of the day that if something were to happen, I’d take the blame for it. Something happened. So I’m taking the blame for it. It’s all my fault everyone.”

Everyone was confused, but impressed. “That’s Vlad for you,” said Adrien. “Vlad, you don’t need to do this. It’s just as much my fault.”

“Adrien. Always too nice for your own good” said Vlad. “But nah, it’s my fault. You tried warning me, but I insisted, and all of this happened.”

“Yeah, well, it’s also partially my fault too” said Adrien. “Lila, I should have been more honest with you about how I feel.”

“Well THAT we can agree on” said Vlad. “In fact, I think if today’s taught us anything, it’s that we should be more honest with each other. Or else people will think you hate them for no reason.” Everyone clapped, but Lila was low-key angry.

“You say that, but I doubt you like anyone here” said Adrien.

“For the last time Adrien, I like people, I just don’t trust people” said Vlad. “At least, not until I get to know them better.” Vlad looked at Marinette and gave her a wink.

Later, Marinette and Alya were talking, when Adrien stepped up to them. “Hey Marinette. I gotta say, getting Vlad to trust someone he just met is not an easy feet. Whatever you said to him to get him to trust you, I’m sure it was great.”

“Ummmmmmm, thank you…” said Marinette, embarrassed. Alya nudged her. “So, um….”

“Ahem” said Lila.

“Sorry Marinette, I gotta go explain myself” said Adrien, walking off.

Marinette got angry and jealous of Lila. “Easy girl” said Alya. “You’ll have you chance.”

“Yeah” said Marinette, dejected. “But speaking of explaining themselves…” Marinette pointed to Alya.

Alya was slightly surprised. “Listen girl, you know I love you. But you have to admit that you have some faults.”

“I know” said Marinette. “I just didn’t expect to hear it so bluntly.”

“Yeah” said Alya. “I didn’t expect to hear it like that either. Friends?”

“Friends” said Marinette, as they both hugged.

Vlad was observing this scene. He looked around and saw others making up from the chaos caused by Receiver Deceiver. He smiled and left.

Later that night, outside of Marinette’s home Vlad stands and stares at the building. “Are you ready?” said the small creature, who is now revealed to be a kwami. The kwami was grey, had wolf ears, a wolf snout, a wolf-like mane, red eyes, and a bushy wolf tail.

“Of course Beyyo” said Vlad. “But remember, just because we think alike doesn’t mean we’re the same. I might give her the seal of approval, but you may not.”

“Duly noted” said Beyyo.

Vlad held out his right hand. “Beyyo! Fangs Sharpen!” Beyyo flew into Vlad’s ring and Vlad began to transform. Vlad transformed into a figure who was wearing a grey cloak. The cloak was joined in the middle, but flew open near his feet in the front. The torso of the cloak was a darker shade of grey than the rest of the cloak. His arms and legs were covered in a black material that clung to his body. He had a belt going across his chest that held a holster for a sword on the back. He had his hood up, which covered his face, except for his piercing red eyes, and it had wolf ears on top. “Alright Ladybug” said the figure. “Let’s see what you’re really made of.”

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfic #marinette #adrien #lila #vlad #Ms. bustier #Alya #chloé #sabrina #Tikki #Plagg #Beyyo #hawkmoth

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atinychai · 6 years ago

Text

Yep! The guys finding out their fem!crush! is a werewolf. It’s under the cut because it’s pretty long.

This was really fun to write, I’m enjoying the supernatural being asks.

Hope you guys enjoy :)!

Law:

Privacy.

On the polar tang privacy was always a struggle between the crew especially when the sub was submerged. Their space was limited and unlike when they were surfaced they couldn’t escape to the deck to get away from others. Not that any of that mattered right now.

Staring Bepo down with crossed arms Law kept his expression placid despite his irritation. As the captain Law had a right to question his crew and if necessary invade their privacy. It wasn’t rare for him to question Shachi or Penguin but never Bepo, which is why their current situation was so unusual. He’d known Bepo for years and not once had the mink ever acted so suspicious around him but now here he was vigilantly standing outside his door, refusing to go in but also refusing to leave the doorway.

“Bepo.” Despite only saying his name, Law’s tone made it clear that he was telling him to move. Truthfully Law wasn’t concerned about him hiding anything dangerous, no, he was far more concerned the mink had brought a stray animal on board.

“Bepo, don’t you dare move.” Came a familiar voice from the other side of the door, “I’ll eat you if you do.”

Bepo immediately went rigid now completely frozen in the doorway.

“Now I’m even more suspicious.” Law said as he placed hand on Bepo’s shoulder, “Move.”

Taking an awkward sidestep to move out of the doorway, Bepo remained mostly frozen just staring at the opposing wall. For now Law would ignore that.

Opening the door Law expected to see her cradling a small animal of some sort, he was prepared to lecture them and threaten to throw it overboard(of course he wouldn’t) however upon seeing what was actually in Bepo’s room Law found himself at a complete loss for words. A dog was one thing but this was too far. How had the two even gotten it onto the ship-let alone into Bepo’s quarters? There was absolutely no way it could fit through the doorway since it took up almost tne entirety of the quarters.

Refusing to take his eyes off the beast Law called both their names; however he only received silence as a response. Again he called them though this time he was given an unexpected response, though it did explain how they got it into Bepo’s room. She’d walked in and then turned into..whatever this was.

Genuinely stunned by their current situation Law simply asked, “Why Bepo’s room?”

“There’s already fur everywhere.” Was their simple response, “So..it didn’t matter if I shifted in here.”

Law couldn’t deny it was good reasoning however he still found himself somewhat irked. He knew for a fact they weren’t a devil fruit user as he’d watched her swim on countless occasions. Which meant there was another, probably stranger explanation for this.

“Werewolf.” They said, “Sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Out of all the questions he had there was one that was more important than the rest-at least in his opinion, “Why didn’t you?” He questioned.

“I wanted to sail with you and I was worried you’d take back your offer to join the crew.” She responded, “Full moons are pretty inconvenient, even more so when we’re on a submarine submerged so far under the water.”

He supposed it was a fair concern, especially considering at the time he probably would’ve retracted his offer. When he first asked them to join he hadn’t been romantically interested in them but now..well he supposed they made the right decision but acknowledging that only seemed to bother him more.

“I have a few questions.” He finally said.

“I figured.” They said as they shifted and their tail curled around their body, “Ask away, captain.”

Marco:

After a long day of replenishing their supplies and an even longer night of drinking Marco was more than ready to fall into his bed and sleep until noon however having seen something strange dart around the corner of the ship Marco instead found himself having to search for what was either a giant wolf or a hallucination in his drunk stupor. Honestly he wasn’t sure which option he preferred to the other.

Either way, until he found the giant wolf or confirmed he’d just imagined it sleep wasn’t an option. Maybe if the rest of the crew was sober he’d let it go but with so many sleeping out on deck in a dead sleep he couldn’t ignore it, especially because it seemed so realistic.

He continued wondering through the ship for some time however as he passed by pop’s room he paused hearing pops and his crush’s laughter. It’d be embarrassing if it was just something he’d imagined but just in case telling pops wouldn’t be a bad idea. Plus if anybody could find the wolf(if it was real) it’d probably be him. Plus, he hadn’t seen her since this morning either and he definitely wanted to see her face before going to sleep. Now if he’d been sober he would’ve knocked however he was far from that and so in the moment he completely forgot about respecting his captains privacy, instead he just waltzed into the room as if it was his own and then he froze.

“Oh Marco, still up?” Whitebeard asked, not the lest bit bothered by his sudden entrance, “I thought for sure you would’ve passed out hours ago.”

Ignoring the comment, Marco asked, “Pops do you see the wolf?”

How could he not though? The thing was same size as him.

“Of course he sees me.”

“Ah..” Again Marco found himself at a compete loss. As drunk as he was, he was sure he hadn’t imagined that. The wolf-who he was now assuming was his crush, had just spoken but more importantly, she’d just spoken as if there was nothing unusual about the current situation.

Unsure what to say or how to handle the new and strange information Marco asked the first thing that came to mind, “Is this why you don’t eat chocolate?”

Both Whitebeard and his crush started howling in laughter, neither expecting a response like that from the quick-witted first commander. He’d been drunk before but never this drunk.

“Marco, just how much have you had to drink tonight?” Pops asked

“A lot.” She said pawing at her nose, “He reeks.”

Somewhat embarrassed about how strong his scent was Marco looked away and scratched the back of his neck. He was pretty sure she wasn’t a fruit user though it’d been awhile since he’d seen her swimming so unless she’d eaten the fruit within the last week(which didn’t make sense considering how long they’d been at sea) it mean she just had the ability to turn into a wolf.

“A werewolf.” He concluded, earning a nod from them.

How had she hid it? It’s not like she was new to the crew, actually she’d been a member for years so how had he not noticed? How hadn’t anybody noticed?

“How-“

“Pops helped me hide it.” She answered, already knowing what he was going to ask, “At first I didn’t want the crew knowing-you know the whole werewolf stereotype but then we just wanted to see how long it’d take for everybody to find out.” She paused, “Ace actually saw me once but I convinced him he was dreaming.”

Marco nodded vaguely remembering the hotheaded teen telling him about a really realistic dream about a giant wolf.

“Are you gonna tell?” She asked.

He doubted anybody would believe him without proof and considering how hard she and pops had worked to keep it a secret the two would probably just deny it to mess with him.

“No.” He responded earning what he could only assume was a smile.

He definitely wouldn’t be the one to ruin her fun but eventually he would try to get in on it.

Mihawk:

Mihawk had always been one to respect others boundaries however after sharing an island with one another for years he found his curiosity(or rather need for confirmation) taking priority over any boundaries that’d been previously set. She’d never outright told him to leave her be on the full moon however unlike usual she never announced her departure in fact it was quite obvious that she was doing her best to sneak away during the full moon.

When she first stated sharing the island with him he didn’t notice or rather he didn’t care because at he time he didn’t particularly feel any strong emotions towards her however as years went by he found himself his thoughts preoccupied by her.

He wasn’t foolish, he’d sailed the seas for years and come across many supernatural beings so he knew what she was-or rather he had a very solid guess as to why she’d disappear every month. If he was right he wasn’t sure why she’d hide it from him after all in the years they’d known each other he’d never once given her any reason to but then again he’d also given her no reason to tell him either.

So now here he was wondering through the dark forest in search of her. Truthfully he hadn’t expected her to go so deep but it’s not as if he had anything to be concerned about. He’d taken many strolls here in the past and even when he did find himself in an unfamiliar area he always managed to find his way home.

Glancing in the direction he heard a snap, he quickly found the confirmation he was looking for though rather than call her out he simply continued walking. While he’d come across werewolves in the past he’d never been around one during a full moon so he had no idea what to expect. There were some stories that claimed they lost their humanity and attacked anything that moved and others that said form aside they were perfectly sane. Either way, he’d intruded on her so he’d allow her to approach him first-if she did at all.

They continued on like this for a while and every so often Mihawk found himself concerned the former story was true, that right now she was simply stalking him and waiting to attack a concern that only grew when she darted around him to stand directly in his path. While he had his swords on him he had no intention of harming her-something that’d be impossible if that was the case. Oddly this was the first time in a long while he found himself nervous about a potential fight.

“Curiosity killed the cat, Mihawk.” The comment didn’t do much to calm his nerves.

“Luckily I’m named after a bird.”

For a moment everything seemed silent but the second she chortled he knew things were fine-at least he knew she wouldn’t attack him. Judging from her earlier comment she wasn’t ecstatic he’d followed her out here.

“You followed me.”

He simply nodded in response.

“I didn’t think you would.”

Again he nodded.

“I wasn’t sure how’d you feel, most people don’t react well.” She paused, “Can’t say I blame them.”

“It makes no difference to me.” And it didn’t. Regardless of what she was, he’d fallen in love with her long ago. Even if this had been a complete surprise he couldn’t imagine himself just replacing his current feelings with fear or anger. It wasn’t as if people chose what they were born as.

“You’re not upset I lied?”

Knitting his brows together he gave her a dubious look, “Lied?” He questioned, “Omitting information you’re not comfortable sharing with me is no lie. I have no right to expect or demand you to tell me everything about yourself, especially when you don’t know everything about me. That being said, I’d like you to know..and feel comfortable enough to be able to tell me anything you wish to.”

#one piece imagine #dracule mihawk #mihawk imagine #Marco the Phoenix #marco imagine #mihawk #marco #one piece #law #traflagar law imagine #traflagar law #heart pirates #whitebeard pirates #op #op imagine

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