#surrounded by people he feels are more qualified. that actually “belong here”

[bluebayard]

we get a new ajr album soon I'm so excited...

[maomao-words]

Here is another self-indulgent piece of writing!  (✿´‿`)

I binged Blue Lock’s manga in 3 days and I am now left with an empty void that I’m trying to fill by writing about my favorite characters in it.

On a side-note, I always seem to think of them as 18-19 years old. 

Contains few spoilers on some characters’ ranks after the Third Selection!

Being their Personal Manager at Blue Lock: (Itoshi Rin, Seishiro Nagi, Hyoma Chigiri)

Rin Itoshi:

Being assigned to the 1st ranker in all of Blue Lock immediately after your adaptability test barely shocked anyone. At this point in time where the whole existence of Blue Lock centered around Itoshi Rin, it was more than obvious that Rin would only receive the utmost care and the very best of the candidates as his manager.

Ranking first in the agonizingly harsh Entrance Exam and managing to out best all 600 other candidates from over the country, you were always the sole choice for Itoshi Rin’s personal manager.

You were already familiar with Rin’s character, preferences, weaknesses, strengths, diet and overall living style. You even had his body measurements down to the millimeter engraved in your brain. You thought yourself as perfectly ready to assist him in his endeavor, but reality soon proved you slightly wrong.

Meeting the genius called Itoshi Rin for the first time, you swore your blood ran cold within your veins the minute his eyes locked with yours. An oppressive aura, suffocating enough to send shivers down your back, surrounded you immediately the minute you stepped into his room. It took all of your willpower not to tremble in front of him.

Rin’s gaze did not move from yours for what seemed like an eternity, but noticing no visible signs of fear or submission on you, his lips slightly curved in a smirk and he finally stood up from his chair, discarding your test results on the table nearby.

“Not bad. She’ll do for now.”

Once you gained Rin’s initial approval, you started your mission as his closest aid. From the moment Rin opened his eyes to the minute he closed his door at night to sleep, you never left his side. You calculated his calories intake and planned his meals accordingly. You carefully reserved the training field and machines to Rin’s own wishes, making absolute sure they are available for Rin to use without any interruption or interference from other players. You planned, ran around, filled up water bottles and picked up emergency kits more quickly than you have ever did back in your own school’s competitive soccer club. You did that over and over again, to the point that you felt like dying. Until you finally broke down.

But being Itoshi Rin’s personal aid did not even offer you the privilege of breaking down in public. You waited until the day’s clamor and chaos was over. You meticulously prepared Rin’s lunch and reminded him to take the few tablets of vitamins afterwards before finally excusing yourself.

Rin raised a brow in faint confusion, as you have never willingly separated yourself from his side, even during meals. But the wound within your chest has finally festered to the point of no return, and you were unable to provide him with a convincing explanation before you gathered your papers and left.

The empty hallway located far from the center cafeteria soon echoed with your faint sobs. You gathered up your knees close to your chest and slowly rocked yourself in hopes of easing your pain. Weeks of harsh labor, zero communication with the outside world as well as the stress that came with handling all of Rin’s demanding responsibilities finally bled over.

You were not giving up. ‘Make no mistake,’ you whispered to yourself between sobs. You were just taking a much earned break before drying up your tears and returning to work.

But just as you began to feel frustrated at the tears still falling on your cheeks, you felt a heavy cloth fall on top of your head accompanied with an extremely familiar fragrance.

You jolted, hand coming up to clutch at Rin’s jacket before glancing up at the tall figure standing by your side. You opened your mouth but a round package slammed into your face next, leaving you to wince in pain.

“Eat that and let’s hurry back. I can’t find my black cleats.”

Rin’s voice echoed in the empty hall, forcing you to bring your attention to the melon bread he threw at you. Sounds of clothes rustling beside you made you look up again, only to find that Rin has sat down beside you, hand coming up to tug you closer to him.

Placing his palm on top of your eyes, Rin’s voice sounded as soft as ever as he whispered.

“Rest. I’m here.”

Seishiro Nagi:

As you stared down at your test results that have finally arrived after a long wait, you suddenly had the urge to cry out. 

Why him of all people?

Having extensively studied all of Blue Lock’s key players prior to passing the Entrance Exam as a manager, you were filled with admiration and respect to them and thus felt ready to be assigned to any of them. Any of them but Nagi Seishiro.

A beginning who did not even know the most basic of the basics on football yet somehow blessed enough to be labeled as a genius even among Blue Lock’s outstanding participants. That was Nagi Seichiro.

You abhorred geniuses. You abhorred how easily they reached their goals, how effortlessly they achieved their desires and how the entire world seemed to bow down in front of them. Becoming the personal manager of a hard working individual, like Isagi Yoichi for example, would have made you the happiest woman on the planet. To watch that individual sweat and toil, think and plan all of his minor actions in order to reach the pinnacle of his dreams through both talent and hard work and get to assist him in that process was the reason behind your entrance to Blue Lock.

So when the day where the eleven chosen managers entered the isolated towering building to meet the elite players ranking at the top of the whole project came, all you could taste was bitterness and rage in your mouth.

After Ego finished the basic introductions between managers and players, he gave the green light for you all to start performing your duties. As you began to collect your belongings that were delivered to you by the staff, you could see the tall figure of a young man approaching you from behind.

Without allowing Nagi the faintest chance to offer his help, you hoisted your luggage up with both hands and started walking towards the managers’’ sleeping quarters with only “I will be back shortly” thrown behind your back at the frozen Nagi.

A job was a job after all and you had no intention to slack off because of your personal dislikes. But you will be sure to maintain a professional distance from Blue Lock’s 6th ranker to avoid any unnecessary trouble.

Being Nagi’s personal manager was as hard as you have expected. Having to support a monster who does not cease to evolve with each passing day at a frightening pace would be considered had by anyone’s standards. But you were already aware of the heavy duties imposed on you from the start so you grinded your teeth and bared the pain. The only issue you seemed to have was, unsurprisingly, Nagi himself.

You have intended for your cold treatment the day you both met to be enough warning for the player. You wanted to perform your duties. Nothing less, nothing more. But Nagi seemed to have another idea on the relationship between you. 

He did not hinder your tasks nor act difficult on purpose to harm you, but he also made sure to greet you warmly each morning before plopping his large hand on top of your head and gently pat your hair for a few minutes before leaving.

He made sure to stick close to you during meal time, pushing off whatever he deemed not-tasty to your own plate, and innocently smiling when your try to scold him. He always shared his dessert with you, no matter how many times you tried to lie and tell him you disliked sweets. He constantly tried his best not to overburden you with questions on players and tactics and carefully chose the times where you were free enough to answer him.

In short, Nagi Seichiro was a weirdo. A weirdo you wanted to choke.

As the time went by, your perspective on Nagi was entirely transformed, despite yourself. You started to put extra care into his meals, go beyond what is required of you when it came to taking care of his training schedule and treatment and even sacrifice some of your free time in order to answer as much of his questions as you can.

One morning, as Nagi stepped in the room and smiled brightly at you, you found yourself moving in closer to him before raising your arms and catching him in a tight hug. Nagi almost stumbled in surprise, but managed to stable you both as he wrapped his hands behind your back. But before he could even utter a word, your mouth opened and a joyful, “Good morning Sei-chan!” came out.

Hyoma Chigiri:

“Are you sure you wish to be assigned to Chigiri?” Ego’s detached voice echoed in the almost empty hall, stopping you in your tracks. The results of the Blue Lock Entrance Exam for managers were just announced and the chosen eleven were asked to pack up and be ready to leave in a two-hours frame.

“You do realize that your rank actually qualifies you to become Itoshi’s Rin support, don’t you?” Ego’s fingers tapped on the table in a rhythmic manner, not stopping even as you glared at him.

“Yes, sir, I am well aware of that fact. But my decision will not change.” Your voice, calm and steady, caused Blue Lock’s host to grin, his raven locks falling to the side as he tilted his head to inspect you closely. “A calculative, rational and logical tactician as you, who managed to outrank all 600 other participants in a six hour long exam, is moved by mere personal emotions?”

It was hard for any regular person to detect the mockery dripping from each of Ego’s words and not feel their blood boiling within their veins. Only you slightly smirked at Ego, eyes curving in genuine mirth as you joyfully answered: “Yes! Is there any problem?”

All the struggles you have faced so far in order to reach this point were, after all, done for the sake of one person: Hyoma Chigiri. Specializing in medical treatment and athletic injuries as a manager was not a coincidence. You have long became aware of your intense desire to support Chigiri and aid him in his journey to achieve his dreams. No matter how many people laughed at you both, no matter how many criticized your choices and claimed you could do much, much better than an injured boy, playing on borrowed time, your resolve never shook.

As you finally locked eyes with Chigiri after your arrival at Blue Lock, you saw how his shoulders slightly trembled and his eyes widened, and your resolve was instantly renewed. Not many words were needed as you playfully extended your hand to shake Chigiri’s own. He was aware that you were there for him and that you will not change your mind no matter what he says or does.

Your duties at Blue Lock were slightly easier than your fellow managers simply due to the fact that you were already familiar with Chigiri’s routine. Needing no time to adjust, you dove head first into taking care of Chigiri, putting the well-being of his knee as your utmost priority. You tried your best not to bite your lips each time you bent down to take a look at the previously injured area, fully knowing that Chigiri has made his peace with the incident and was now focusing on moving on with no regrets.

Your favorite task to perform was, and still is, taking care of Chigiri’s silky hair. You were faced with his slightly damaged locks the day you arrived at Blue Lock’s building and Chigiri had to apologize a couple of times for ruining the hair you treasured the most. Ever since then, you returned to your usual task of picking hair products for him, drying and styling his hair depending on Chigiri’s schedule for the day. Braids were your go-to style but you also enjoyed changing things up, knowing that it made Chigiri happy each time you tried to come up with a new hairdo.

Now that you were finally reunited with your childhood friend and lover, you were ready to give it your all and see it all to its final end.

[eclipsebythedawn]

Smothered Flames & Shadows (Part 1)

Hi guys! So this is my first fanfiction ever, and I’m honestly not sure if it’s even good but I thought I wanted to share some Gwynriel with you all :) I have a sort of story planned out and this will likely have more parts. I’m pretty sure I will continue this story since I have more stuff planned out (hence the part 1) but right now it’s just some Gwynriel crumbs. Hope you guys will enjoy it and stay safe wherever you are. 

(How are we gonna wait like ten years for the Gwynriel book because I believe in you SJM you MUST MUST give us Gwynriel ??!) 

Ps. This is the updated version, I added a new chunk for Azriel’s reaction. (Updated on 26 April 2021)

Azriel's wings flapped as he patrolled the skies. The dense cloud cover as well as the fading sunlight disguised his presence and he needed minimal effort to remain hidden. His shadows could taste the looming chaos and flitted around him warningly.

Be careful, be careful.

He could hear through their thoughts and saw through their lingering words. All was quiet here, it seemed. He would much rather preferred to be stationed at the ethereally beautiful Dawn Court, their High Lord serene but with an inner strength that was unflappable, instead of... here.

The Autumn Court held no such delights. Yes, the scenery was more than picturesque -- its flora suspended in eternal autumn, the golden-brown leaves swirling leisurely through the air, their russet color so much like a certain male that was mated to a certain girl he could never have.

Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her.

Unbidden, his brother's fury-driven words cut into his muddled thoughts. Azriel knew that he was old and cranky and Rhys didn't deserve his anger and resentment after what he went through for all of them, but he was... gods, he was so damn tired.

The first female outside of Mor who had caught his eyes -- of course she had to be denied from him. Cauldron knew that the Mother had never shone its light on him, not that he even deserved to be embraced by Her warmth.

His mind finally allowed him to remember the beautiful brunette always on the back of his mind. Her doe-like eyes, sweet smile and that alluring scent, so pure and innocent and arousing and --

Fuck.

Azriel adjusted himself, his pants stifling and uncomfortable. Shit. He was in deep shit. But he couldn't stop himself from fantasizing about how she would taste, how she would look when he made her come.

Rhys's words from the other day, during solstice so many months ago, hadn't helped. Azriel's desperate lust had only grown even more to the point that he was actively avoiding the second Archeron sister so she wouldn't scent his arousal.

For that matter, so his two brothers wouldn't catch him lusting after her especially after the warning he was given.

And she seemed to be avoiding him too.

Azriel made one more round in the skies, the night as chilly and familiar as his own shadows that seemed strangely subdued now. His thoughts continued to stray towards...

Elain.

Beautiful, clean, pure, worthy Elain. He was none of those things, he knew that. Had resigned himself to it after five centuries of futile pining for a female that never returned his desires. He did not blame Mor. Could not blame Mor. He was tainted and she deserved someone better than him.

But when he saw Elain... Their unlikely friendship had gradually turned into something more. It had only continued to develop after Elain was Made High Fae and he became even more attuned to her, constantly sharing the same space. And for the first time since Mor, he wanted. He wanted to have what his two brothers had. It was wrong and it was selfish, but he saw Rhys and Cassian and he wondered --

Maybe the Cauldron had made a mistake. Three sisters of blood and three brothers of choice. Two thirds fulfilled, and somewhere deep down inside, he had been uselessly, worthlessly holding onto hope.

He had not dared to whisper it out loud until Rhys caught him just before their kiss. And Rhys reaction had only served to remind him why he was wrong for her. Why Elain deserved someone else.

But for the first time in his life, he wanted to throw caution to the wind.

Deciding that all was well and not wanting to remain a second longer, Azriel gathered his shadows and prepared to winnow back to home. He frowned when his shadows flittered over him... disapprovingly?

Yes, that was disapproval. His lips tightened as they swirled around him angrily.

What the hell was wrong with them tonight?

Azriel yanked on his petulant shadows. They continued to ignore him, some even going as far as to ignore him.

He scowled. His shadows were stepping out of line more and more frequently as thought something was bothering him.

Or someone.

He shoved aside the image of tendrils dancing and singing around a certain redhead, her bright teal eyes laughing and --

Azriel forcibly winnowed and dragged his disobeying shadows after him, leaping across the miles between the Autumn Court and home within a single step, resigning himself to a lonely night -- as always.

~~~

The night was alive.

It was a comforting blanket draped over her, Gwyn mused silently.

But she felt dead.

It was going to be one of those nights, then. Those nights when she woke up screaming, drenched in sweat only to realize it was just another nightmare. That reality was like a noose tied around her neck, dragging her further down into the pits of Hell where she belonged.

She would never meet Catrin even in death. Because her lovely, beautiful sister who had shone like the brightest star was amongst the stars in the heavens. That single thought was the only thing pushing her forward on the worst of nights.

On nights where flinging herself out of a high balcony on the impossible chance that she would see Catrin again seemed possible. Gwyn had thought that that was before.

Before Nesta, before Emerie, before meeting her Valkyrie sisters whom she knew would and had walked with her through pain and darkness and led her back.

But even after so much training, nothing had changed. She was still the cowardly, timid, broken doll she thought she had left behind.

Gwyn sighed even as sadness and pain, always so much pain, swelled inside her. Logically she knew she wasn't thinking straight. If Nesta or Emerie were here, they would be chiding her for her thoughts, the former sharp but mindful, and the latter firm but gentle. A small smile came onto her faces at all the memories they shared.

The cutting of the ribbon. Winning the obstacle course that served as the Blood Rite Qualifier. And then winning the actual Blood Rite itself while Nesta -- unyielding, unflinching -- held the lines for Gwyn and Emerie to be crowned as Carynthians.

And now, Nesta and Cassian's mating ceremony. Despite everything she was feeling, Gwyn was happy for her friend.

Her sister by choice.

She knew Nesta deserved Cassian as he did her, and she felt genuine happiness for the pair. It was obvious during the long months of initial, grueling training that there was a spark between the two. An attraction that could not be denied.

She longed to find that love though in truth Gwyn knew she might never be ready for it.

Her point was further proven yesterday when Nesta had invited them during a break in training to her mating ceremony, held in a week's time. Gwyn knew that preparations were already underway and she was as honored and grateful as Emerie to be invited, but still she had hesitated, especially at the list of invited and accepted guests.

It wasn't mortifyingly long since Nesta only wanted close friends and family and Cassian only wanted the High Lord, Rhysand and Azriel, but the guest was filled with important names that made Gwyn nervous just to hear them.

The High Lord and High Lady were enough to make her dizzy. And then there was the High Lord's Second and Third, both formidable females in their own right. Gwyn thought wryly though that Emerie had seemed flustered and even blushed a little when her ears caught on a certain someone's name in the list Nesta had shared.

She was happy for her friend too. Emerie deserved friendship -- and love, if that relationship could blossom. But she knew better than interfere when her own relationships were so precarious.

The Prince of Adriata was coming, along with Mother above, the High Lord of the Day Court, Helion. Nesta's younger sister Elain was on the list as well though Nesta's face had clouded a bit when she read her name out loud. And then there was her mate -- Lucien Vanserra.

The supposedly exiled son of the High Lord of Autumn, who had ties to numerous Courts and was a valuable ally.

It was silly and stupid but amidst this sea of important names, Gwyn had wondered on more than one occasion what she could even do there. She had immediately scolded herself mentally, that she would be attending the ceremony for Nesta and even Cassian, who had become a bit of an older brother figure to her, and she would have Emerie with her.

She knew Emerie would fight anyone who dared to even look at her the wrong way.

But the larger part of Gwyn was scared. So many people would be attending, especially the males. It wasn't as if Helion or Lucien would randomly pounce on her, and that her fear was irrational, but she couldn't stop thinking about them. Couldn't stop thinking about that day where so many males surrounded her, where that hateful Hybern commander had ordered her held down, had pummeled into her as silent tears fell down her face, had laughed in her face and --

Gwyn counted the stars in the sky in time to her quickened breathing. Deep breaths, she told herself. When she couldn't sleep on nights like these she would train until nearly the breaking of dawn. She should get up from her position on the ground.

Probably.

But lying on the cold floor of the training area atop the House of Wind was a refreshing change. After having been coped up in the library for two years, she had finally decided to join Nesta in her morning training sessions with Cassian.

It was quite possibly the best decision she had ever made.

But still... But still, the doubt lingered. It festered. It thrived on her pain and self-hatred, quietly growing on nights like these.

It thrived at the fact that Emerie had accepted the invitation immediately, but Gwyn, worthless, selfish Gwyn had not. Was she so pathetic that she couldn't even congratulate her friend on her special day?

She should really get up. Perhaps train a bit more, instead of lying here wallowing in her dark thoughts.

Then a tiny tendril of shadow-kissed power gently prodded her arm. She startled, turning around and half-getting up.

She already knew who would be standing before her with his usual contemplative silence.

Azriel.

He was before her and she froze for one second. A twinge of fear crept in at his closeness, at the nearness of another male, so suddenly and unpredicted --

Azriel took a step back, saying softly, "I'm sorry if I surprised you."

Gwyn blinked. The shadowsinger was nothing but the epitome of manners and he had likely scented her fear.

"It's fine." And that was true. Her fear had instantly washed away as abruptly as it had arrived upon realizing who was here.

Azriel would never hurt her, Gwyn was sure of that.

She cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the awkward silence that had descended.

"Are you here for something?" She winced slightly at her choice of words. This was his home. She had no right to even utter such a question when she was the outsider.

Before Azriel could reply, another shadow darted out and wrapped itself around her arm before rushing back to its master. Gwyn felt the corners of her lips twitched up as the shadowsinger blinked once, twice in... shock.

"Did you forget your favorite dagger again?" She teased and was rewarded with a faint blush on his cheeks. His lovely and if she dared say, adorable shadows had given her the courage she needed.

To her surprise, he played along. "Have you seen an eighteen-inch dagger anywhere?"

Gwyn burst out laughing at the ridiculous statement.

"May I remind you that it's a dagger you have misplaced -- not a sword?"

"Forgive me if my memory fails sometimes." Was she seeing things or was there a twinkle in his eyes?

"Well, you do seem to forget things rather easily." Oh, she was certain! Amusement ran deep inside his hazel eyes and Gwyn felt breathless for a second, mesmerized by the beautiful male.

Staring into his eyes... She smiled at him, a genuine crinkling of her eyes. He had lifted her mood within seconds of his arrival.

Azriel seemed to freeze for a second, his usual stillness somehow magnifying. Intensifying. His shadows writhed around and she had the odd feeling that he was struggling to control them.

She blinked, and the moment passed.

"Were you training?" Azriel motioned towards her sweaty body. She nodded mutely, still caught up in what had occurred. Was it just her imagination? Looking at the stoic Illyrian standing before her, Gwyn decided she was just too tired, and her mind was playing tricks on her.

"...My help?"

Gwyn snapped out of her thoughts, head jerking up. "What?"

Azriel cocked an eyebrow at her obvious inattentiveness and she felt herself blushing. She chided herself mentally.

"Do you require my help?" He repeated the question, that faint amusement still dancing in his eyes.

"Wait. Are you asking to train me?" Another eyebrow raise.

"Were you expecting me to teach you the benefits of lying on the cold floor in the middle of the night?" He replied dryly.

Gwyn scowled and immediately stood up.

"Uh-huh. I was expecting you to fling your arms about and start serenading me."

"Is that a demand?" Azriel chuckled quietly. Gwyn thought that might be the most heavenly sound she had ever heard.

"Is that a challenge?" Gwyn shot back, not missing a beat.

The corners of his lips twitched up. Gwyn wanted to wipe that smirk off his face, her competitive streak setting in. She was also excited for this match because truth be told, she had been training everyday in anticipation of wiping the floor with the shadowsinger. It was her secret fantasy.

Not that it would happen anytime still but... Still.

"You can help me with my training. But on one condition."

Azriel contemplated her more seriously before he nodded his head.

"We fight now. Hand-to-hand."

~~~

The night was alive.

And Gwyneth Berdara was the full moon that accompanied it, shining brightly even amidst the darkness. She was so lovely, yet he sensed something pure and burning thriving inside her. His shadows yearned to flit around her, touch her, dance and sing for her. He had to keep them on a tight leash, and they were unhappy.

Little tendrils of darkness swirled around him petulantly. They wanted to go to Gwyn. Would have gone to her without his intervention. One stray thread snuck out and nearly coiled around Gwyn's wrist before he snatched it back in time. He could have sworn his own shadows growled at him. But he had bigger things to focus on.

Like the fact that Gwyn had just challenged Azriel to a duel.

Once again, his shadows had failed to mention that she was here. There was no quick escape that didn't end in awkwardness so he had stayed -- and so far he was... contented. Being around her seemed to have that effect on himself.

She was humming to herself as she stretched, preparing her body before their fight. His shadows buzzed around excitedly, seeming to forget about their earlier disagreement. He supposed there was no question who they were rooting for.

"Ready?" He asked Gwyn. She nodded, then held up a hand.

"Wait." She retied her ponytail, not letting even a single strand of her coppery chestnut obstructing her vision. He admired her competitiveness, her courage and strength in always fighting for the best.

Meeting her by chance here again reminded him of solstice, and his mind wandered to Elain before he slammed down his thoughts.

Focus. He had watched and trained Gwyn enough to know that she was a threat: an emerging dark horse that proved unpredictable and cunning. He also knew she had silently studied his fighting style enough to know more than just a few of his preferred tricks.

They circled each other, neither one of them making the first move.

He had drilled into her what signs to look out for, what feints and what blockings would be an unexpected yet effective counterattack that he was more than a little wary.

Still, he decided to make the first move, which was so out of his usual style that he hoped she would be unprepared. He had the feeling that she already knew he was going to attack first though as she sidestepped him and threw a punch.

Like he was expecting. He grabbed it and pulled her towards him to jilt her balance, but she was already expecting that and swept out her leg, forcing him to move unless he wanted to end up on the ground. The next move he had perfected to mastery.

He pretended to feint left when he was actually aiming for the left. A cheap shot, but he had also taught her that no real fights were clean and honest. She twisted her body but they both knew she wouldn't dodged in time.

At the last moment, his shadows decided to move and --

Capture his fucking hand. They wrapped themselves around him and his eyes widened as he was stopped mid-throw by his own shadows. The scenario would have been laughable if he wasn't in so much disbelief. They had never outright hindered him in any battles before.

He cursed, barely dodging the next kick Gwyn sent his way. They broke apart again and Gwyn asked, "Something wrong?" She glanced towards his wayward shadows and he had a strong feeling she knew.  

He shook his head, glaring at his swirling shadows. They just blinked up at him innocently.

Don't hurt her. Don't hurt her. Lovely mistress lovely mistress lovely mistress.

He gritted his teeth. Their fancy for Gwyn had reached the point of obsession but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she squinted and then broke into a grin.

"Aha. I thought I saw your little friends earlier." At her words, his shadows flew towards her joyfully, happy to be recognized. Azriel rubbed his neck as his shadows neared Gwyn, knowing that she had to secretly hate them for being so ugly and tainted and unworthy --

Gwyn bent down. What she did next would stay in his memories forever. Holding out an arm, she let his shadows coiled around the entire length, wisps of midnight trailing her as she walked towards Azriel.

His shadows were happier than he had ever known them to be. He could feel their joy with every step she took, sense the way they were telling him to look look look look.

Then Gwyn smiled at him, her teal eyes so clear and large.

"Your shadows are beautiful."

~~~

"Your shadows are beautiful."

Azriel stood still. His entire body was frozen, and even his heart seemed to cease its beating.

Gwyn took a step back at whatever expression was on his face. What she said... Did she understand that what she said -- no one had ever deigned to voice before?

Did she look at his hideous soul and scarred hands?

Did she see how truly stained he was?

He wanted to believe she did. He had never wanted something more than Gwyn seeing him, truly seeing him be true. But if it were true...

How could his shadows be beautiful?

"I'm -- I'm sorry for stepping out of line." She stuttered out, her eyes wide.

Azriel glanced up sharply, snapped out of his trance. She looked horrified and was stammering out another apology, her pitch high and wobbly.

Shit.

Before he could process what he was saying, words tumbled out of his mouth, aided by the push of an impatient shadow desperate to right all things wrong.

"It is I who should be apologizing." His voice was a soft whisper in the night breeze. Gwyn paused halfway through her long speech and she stood there gaping at him.

"I am sorry, Gwyn." Azriel truly was. He could feel the shame gnawing at him. Yet another mistake. Yet another disappointment. He was a lowly half-breed bastard. His "little friends" curled around his tightening fists anxiously. He could not quite meet her eyes as chagrin dragged him down and whispered,"I should not have reacted the way I did."

He did not know what to expect. The infamous spymaster that was Azriel could never anticipate any of Gwyn's actions. She was an enigma, a mystery that constantly evaded him, the light at the end of the tunnel that shied away from him at every twist and turn.

He saw Gwyn take a deep breath from his peripheral vision and steeled himself. He gathered the remnants of his scattered mask, ready to return to just the High Lord's spymaster.

And then Gwyn spoke.

"I... I do not know your story. I do not know the dark tales that define your past. But I know you. And I know that whatever it is... It does not define you. It does not define the male I see standing before me. It cannot define the male who saved my very life, who --" Here her voice caught and she had to stop for a moment.

Azriel's heart clenched painfully. He did not know why but... He wanted to hug her and show her that her past had never defined her. Not for him, not for Nesta or Emerie and he wanted her to know that it shouldn't for herself.

"Who placed that cloak upon me with such gentle hands." She continued softly, gazing down at his scarred palms. And for the first time in a sea of forever, Azriel did not feel the urge to hide his shadow-kissed hands. Those same shadows began to swirl towards Gwyn and she did not flinch.

She only continued staring at him with those eyes that could see through everything. Did he want them to see through him? Yes.

She sees. And she is not afraid. Azriel's shadows basked them in a cocoon of living darkness.

"I refuse to let your past define you. I do not accept that. So fight. Your story... even if it never comes to me, there is nothing it can tell me that I don't already know. You are brave, thoughtful and so, so kind. You and Cassian trusted me to survive and conquer the Rite as you two had trusted Nesta and Emerie. If not then both of you would have stormed in immediately, and no law could have overruled you. So please... Please believe in me like you did. Just this once, if nothing else." Gwyn finished a little breathlessly and he knew she had rushed through the last part because she was nervous.

But somehow the bit that stuck out to him was her thinking he used to believe in her. He did, but used to? He still did. And he wanted her to know that, more than anything. He wanted Gwyn to know that he had never stop believing in her.

And seeing Gwyn's crestfallen face as each second passed and he still remained silently, he knew she was thinking the worst.

He wanted her smile back. His shadows wanted that too.

But more than anything, they both wanted her to sing again. And looking at her dispirited expression, at that moment even his shadows were unsure whether she would find her voice again.

She had spilled her thoughts to him, and he was standing there like an idiot.

Your words, Azriel. Use your words.

His shadows were begging him to say something. Anything, please please please.

As she turned to leave, he finally found his voice. The voice she unknowingly helped him find.

"Gwyn, I'm sorry -- please wait." She paused, hesitating as her eyes met his. Azriel did not know what to say. He was incapable of saying anything but "sorry", that word so pathetic and useless. Sorry was not enough when Rhys was captured by Amarantha. Sorry was not enough when Feyre was forced to sacrifice herself for their -- for his sake. Sorry was not enough when Elain was taken away by the Cauldron in the middle of the night.

Sorry had never been enough and never would be. Azriel was a stupid, foolish idiot.

"Azriel." Gwyn spoke his name softly. He tore himself away from his useless thoughts and looked at her.

She... did not look upset. She did not look angry, nor sad, nor frustrated. Instead, understanding lay in those warm teal eyes.

"I'm not pushing you to share about yourself. You are not obliged to just because I rambled on about my thoughts." Gwyn's eyes were indeed filled with apology and remorse though she had a small smile.

"You will always be my friend. And I will wait for you, even if the day you want to share about yourself never comes. Because I know you will do the same for me."

Somehow, in that moment when even time seemed to have held its breath, when even the Mother seemed to be watching, Azriel felt something in him shifted. In the distant, he could have sworn a phoenix's song filled his veins, a song of smothered flames and shadows.

"Besides, I think the silent, brooding type fits you better than Cassian's I-wrecked-one-tiny-unimportant-useless-building hotheadedness." Gwyn teased.

The distant calling seemed to grow louder, and Azriel could have sworn --

He could have sworn that a faraway glow beckoned him. And his shadows were more restless than ever, nearly tearing away from their master in their excitement.

So when Gwyn grinned at him, he smiled back.

The stars twinkling overhead seemed to beam back too. For the first time in a long while, Azriel felt contented. It was a feeling he had not experienced since... Since solstice. And back then he was with Gwyn, too, he realized abruptly. It was this female before him who had brought him not once, but twice such longed-for peace and quiet.

Gwyn was wrong. It was not his shadows who were beautiful.

It was her.

It was the Valkyrie who had walked beside Death -- and never cowered.

Never feared, never faltered.

Gwyneth Berdara was a secret, lovely beauty.

Sorry for any grammatical errors (or just errors in general) since I’m writing on my own right now. Thanks for reading and stay tune for part 2 <3

Updated comment: Hi guys, so I added a new bit about Azriel’s reaction. I was planning out the whole story so it’s taking a while and I’m sorry about the wait. I’m nearly done with planning things out chapter-by-chapter so part 2 is on its way. Thank you for staying with me 

xoxo

Dawn ~

[sfb123]

Sapere Aude - Part 5

Book: The Royal Heir

Pairing: King Liam Rys x Queen Riley Brooks

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Catch Up Here

Series Description: I developed a theory of what I think will happen in TRH Book 4, and I was encouraged by some very lovely people to turn my theory into a fic, so here it is. Basically, Riley is recruited to join the Via Imperii, this series will follow her as she joins them to try and bring them down from the inside, and all of the drama and bombshells she learns along the way. Sapere Aude is Latin for “dare to know” it seemed like an appropriate title.

Rating: PG-13 Adult language, allusions to smut (but nothing graphic), discussions of death, conspiracy, blackmail, and other adult themes.

Warning: The Royal Heir Book 3 Spoilers all over the place.

Word Count: 3,189

Notes: This is kind of a transitional chapter, no major plot movement (but there is some major Uncle Drake time, if that helps). If I had combined it with the next chapter, it would have been way too long. I promise I’m going to make up for it in the next chapter. 

As always, one love to my pre-readers @texaskitten30​ & @txemrn​, I’m surprising you both with some extra content that was not in the preread (chapter 6 got way too long, so I took the opening fluff and added it to the end of this chapter). And thank you @twinkleallnight​ for my moodboard!

Tags: Everyone is tagged below, whether or not you get notified of said tag, I guess that’s in the hands of the Tumblr gods 🤷🏻‍♀️

Riley’s eyes slowly fluttered open as she took in her surroundings, she was in an ornate bedroom that she didn’t recognize. “Oh good, you’re awake.” Mara walked toward the bed from the corner of the room where she had been sitting. 

“Mara, what happened?” Riley asked.

“You passed out, you had me worried for a moment there.” Mara poured her a glass of water from the pitcher on the nightstand. 

Memories started coming back to Riley, she remembered being at the event and taking mental note of the members in attendance. Then she remembered the speaker approaching the podium, it was Liam’s mother. Nope, that can’t be right. I had already passed out at that point. That was a dream, some weird Wizard of Oz shit. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Riley watched as Mara rushed over to the door, opening it slightly and saying something to the person on the other side. Riley tried, but she was unable to hear what was being said.

“Who was that?” Riley asked as Mara closed the door and headed back to her bedside. 

“Just someone checking on you. Tell me what you remember about what happened?” 

“Nothing really, I remember being in the room and looking around, then everything went black. I had the weirdest dream while I was out though. Liam’s mother, she was up at the podium, giving a speech.” She took in Mara’s serious expression, and started feeling uneasy again. “Mara, that was a dream...right? Liam’s mother died a long time ago.”

Mara took a deep breath, “Actually, that was not a dream, Eleanor is the leader of the Via Imperii’s Cordonian chapter.”

“But why? How? She’s been alive this whole time?” Just when I thought this couldn’t get weirder. Maybe I’m still dreaming, I haven’t woken up yet. Yeah, that’s it. She pinched her arm and quickly flinched in pain. Nope, definitely real life. Liam’s mother is alive, she has been this whole time. Liam has spent most of his life mourning a woman that not only betrayed his family, but that wasn’t even dead. How is it possible that things are still getting worse? 

“I believe that is something she is more qualified to answer herself. She is outside waiting to speak with you. Should I let her in?”

“I don’t know. What do I say? How am I supposed to act? What does one say to their dead mother-in-law that isn’t actually dead?” There was a slight tremble in her voice. “Mara, I’m freaking the fuck out here. What am I supposed to do?”

Mara sat on the side of the bed and put a comforting hand on Riley’s shoulder. “It is entirely your decision, but I promise you, things will become much more clear once you speak with her. I know this is a shock, but just listen to her.”

Riley closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths, trying to center herself. “Ok, let her in.” 

Aside from a few creases along her mouth and eyes, you would have sworn that the woman entering the room had stepped right out of the many photographs Liam had shown Riley over the years. Damn, I guess faking your death is a pretty good anti-aging cure. As Eleanor approached, Riley sat up further on the bed and leaned her back against the headboard. 

“Riley, I can’t tell you how happy I am to finally be sitting down with you. We have so much to discuss.” Eleanor took the chair from the vanity and placed it next to the bed.

Understatement of the century. “I have so many questions, I don’t even know where to start.”

“I’m sure you do dear, and I will answer all of them, but you have already been through so much tonight. You need your rest.” She patted RIley’s hand soothingly. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I would like to come by Valtoria tomorrow for brunch, we can talk then.”

“Valtoria...my Valtoria? But you’re supposed to be dead, everyone will see you. Drake will see you, he’ll know who you are.” Riley started to panic. “Eleanor is there...I mean, my Eleanor...Eleanor the second?” 

“Shh, it’s alright Riley. As much as I would love to meet my granddaughter, you are absolutely right, she and Drake can’t know that I am there. Just tell them you have a meeting, and ask Drake to take her out for a bit. Knowing him, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to take her on a little nature walk. As far as being seen, I’ve managed this long without my secret getting out. Don’t worry, I have my ways of running under the radar.”

Riley could only nod, her head still swimming with all of these thoughts and questions. Eleanor stood, giving Riley a kind goodbye and leaving the room. 

After a little more rest, and time to process the conversation she just had, Mara escorted Riley out of the estate and brought her back to Valtoria. Riley was looking forward to the comfort of being in her own home, and seeing her daughter. Eleanor was no doubt asleep already, but even just checking in on her and seeing that little face, was the most calm Riley could hope for at the moment. 

As she entered her daughter’s bedroom, she smiled to herself. Eleanor was asleep on her Uncle’s lap, while he also snored soundly, the book they were reading long forgotten on the floor in front of them. Riley gently lifted her daughter out of Drake’s arms, causing him to stir. 

“Hey Brooks. Sorry, she must have really worn me out.” He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he stood out of the oversized armchair. 

Riley gently laid her still sleeping daughter in the bed, and kissed her forehead as she tucked her in. “Trust me, if anyone understands it’s me.” She turned to her friend and gave him a hug. “Thank you so much for staying with her, Drake. I always feel better leaving her with a friend when Liam and I can’t be there.” 

The exhaustion and stress were evident in Riley’s voice. A concerned Drake nodded toward the door, signaling that they should leave Eleanor to sleep. “Are you alright? You’ve been acting weird, different, all day.” He asked as he gently shut the door behind them.

“Yea, I’m good, I promise.” Riley lied. “This event tonight, it was just one of those things that would have been so much easier with Liam. I mean, they all are, but you know what I mean.” Drake nodded as he put his arm around her shoulder and they walked toward her room. “Hey, do you mind taking Eleanor out for a bit tomorrow, like late morning-ish? I had someone tonight request a meeting, and it’s kind of time sensitive.”

“Of course, that’s what I came for. Maybe I’ll take her fishing. Would that be ok? I’d love to teach her.” 

Riley smiled at his enthusiasm, but the smile didn’t quite meet her eyes. Drake noticed. “I think that would be a great idea. I believe the gear you got her for her birthday is in the sporting shed.” 

“You know I’m not going to let this go, right? Something’s going on with you and Liam. You’re my best friends, I’m not going to just sit here and pretend something isn’t bothering you guys.”

Riley checked either side of the hallway before leading Drake into her room. As she shut the door with one hand, she raised the other to her face, signaling for Drake to be quiet. She grabbed her phone and opened the notepad app, typing a message to Drake.

Do you know how to check for bugs?

Drake furrowed his brows and nodded his head. 

Do it. 

Drake did a full sweep of the room and the balcony, and returned to Riley, who was now sitting on the bench at the end of her bed. “Alright, we’re good. Now what the hell is going on?”

She explained about the Via Imperii to Drake. She didn’t tell him everything, and she definitely didn’t tell him that Liam’s mother is alive, or that that was the meeting she was taking tomorrow. Drake listened intently to everything, his only interruption was a ‘fucking Neville’ when she was telling him about the other members. She told him that one of the higher ups from the organization wanted to meet with her tomorrow, not a lie, and that’s why she wanted him to take Eleanor out of the estate for a while. 

Everything that had happened since she and Liam stepped out of the palace doors that morning suddenly made sense to Drake. And it now made sense why Liam had asked him to go with them instead of Maxwell. He wanted protection for his family, not just someone to keep them company. 

“Ok, so who else knows? What can I do?”

“Liam wanted to wait until we had some more information to tell anyone else. I know I probably should have waited to talk to him first, but tonight was awful Drake, just so damn awful. And I can’t call Liam and tell him, because I don’t know if they’re listening to our calls, and I can’t keep it all to myself for another 48 hours.” She sighed deeply and ran a hand through her hair. “He just didn’t want us accidentally telling someone that was part of it. I’m so sorry we didn’t tell you. It’s not that we didn’t think we could trust you. It’s just, finding out his mother was involved, it hit him hard, Drake. I think he just feels so betrayed by her, it’s making him extra cautious of our inner circle.”

Drake pulled her into a hug and held her close. “Hey, it’s alright, I totally get it. If I found out something like that, I mean, I can’t even imagine.”

As they separated, Riley let out a yawn. “I should probably at least try to get some sleep. Thanks Drake, for everything.”

“Yea, of course. You guys are my family, I’ll always be here. You sure you’ll be alright?”

Riley nodded and walked him to the door. They said their good nights, and Drake headed down the hall to his room, while Riley shut the door and changed into her pajamas. She laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. She spent most of the night wondering what Eleanor would say to her tomorrow, and listing out all of the questions she was going to ask. She was grateful that she was given a chance to gather her thoughts before having to go too deep with her. She would finally be able to walk into a Via Imperii interaction prepared. Or so she hoped. 

Riley never got a good night's sleep when she and Liam were apart. She had grown accustomed to falling asleep in his arms, and no weighted blanket on the planet could replicate that feeling. The emptiness of her bed, combined with the events of the night before, and Riley wasn’t sure anything that happened over the last couple of hours could even be considered sleep. She nodded off a couple of times, but every time the REM cycle started to kick in, she would see Liam’s mother and be jolted awake. Finally, she couldn’t take the tossing and turning any longer, so she got out of bed and decided to work with Gladys to make preparations for their meeting. 

Before she did that, she wanted to go get Eleanor and make sure she was up and ready for her fishing date with Uncle Drake. As she entered her daughter’s bedroom, she saw Eleanor sitting at her table, with her back to the door, having a tea party with her stuffed animals. “Good morning, Princess.”

Eleanor turned and smiled, immediately running up to her and wrapping her arms around Riley. “Hi Mommy, come have tea with us!” She grabbed her mother’s hand and walked her to the small table. She moved one of the stuffed animals out of it’s chair, kissing it on the nose and placing it on the bed. “Sorry Woogie. Mommy, sit.” She pointed at the now empty chair. 

“Eleanor, remember our manners?” Riley raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Mommy sit...please?” She looked up with a questioning expression. 

“That’s my girl.”

They sat and ‘drank tea’, Eleanor explaining every moment of her evening with her uncle the night before with so much enthusiasm. Riley watched Eleanor’s arms gesture wildly as she talked about the game of hide and seek that they played. 

Eleanor stopped her story at the sound of Riley’s phone ringing, and squealed with excitement at the sight of her father’s face on the screen. “It’s Daddy, it’s Daddy!”

“Here, you answer it, he’ll be happy to see your face.” Riley swiped accept on the video call request, and handed the phone to Eleanor. 

Riley sat back and watched the two most important people in her life talking and laughing like there wasn’t a care in the world, when Riley knew that that world was actually in the process of crumbling. She made sure that Eleanor got the phone first so that she could take that time to compose herself before she talked to Liam. They would talk, but she couldn’t tell him anything about last night. Even if she could, a FaceTime call was not the way to deliver that news. She snapped out of her thought when she heard Liam from the other side of the phone.

“I love you too, princess. Can you please give the phone to Mommy?”

As Riley took the phone, she stood from her seat, giving Eleanor a kiss on the head. “I’m going to go talk to Daddy, Finish up your tea party, Uncle Drake is going to be taking you fishing soon.”

“YAY! Fishies!”

Riley exited the room and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath before holding the phone up to her face. “Good morning, handsome.” She smiled softly at the sight of her husband on the other end.

“Hello, beautiful. How did you sleep?” 

“Do you really need to ask? You know you’ve spoiled me all these years, I can’t fall asleep without you.” She was determined to keep the conversation light. If it veered away from that at all, she wasn’t sure she would be able to hold back. Especially with the lack of sleep she was experiencing. 

“Trust me love, I understand. I’m already on my third cup of coffee, just one more night, and we will be together again.” His eyes said everything he wasn’t able to say in that call. They were having a silent conversation about how awful the previous night had been for Riley, and how sorry he was , how badly he wanted to be there to hold her and make it all go away. 

“It’s going to be the longest night of my life, just so you know.” She sighed, checking her watch briefly. “Liam, I have to go. I had a last minute meeting come up, and I have to go get everything ready.”

Liam nodded, knowing exactly what the meeting was in reference to, or so he thought. “Of course, I have to get ready for my day as well. I will call you later on to check in. I love you Riley, I will see you tomorrow.”

“I love you too, Liam.” She ended the call, and a single tear trailed down her cheek. She wiped it away and stood up straight. She didn’t have time to break down, she had a brunch to host. 

Riley worked with Gladys to prepare the solarium for her brunch meeting. Liam had told her how much his mother loved the gardens at the palace, so she thought that this would be an appropriate setting for their meeting. Sure, the circumstances were anything but pleasant, but this was still Eleanor Rys. This woman brought Liam, her Liam, into the world. No matter what happened in this meeting, or what became of this relationship, she would be eternally grateful to this woman for giving her the love of her life. 

She impressed on Gladys the importance of privacy for this meeting, all food and beverages were to be set out ahead of their guest’s arrival, chafing dishes and coffee carafes sat on one of the tables to ensure no servers needed to enter the room. Once the door was shut, nobody was to enter until the Queen said so. Eleanor had gone this long living under the radar, Riley certainly wasn’t going to be the one to ruin her life as a dead woman. 

Once the instructions had been laid out for the staff, Riley moved to the entryway of the estate to see Drake and Eleanor off on their fishing adventure. She walked in just as Drake was handing Eleanor her mini, hot pink, fishing rod. “Here you go, kiddo. Make sure you hold it up like this, so that you don’t poke anyone while you’re walking.”

She got a mischievous gleam in her eye. One that Drake instantly recognized from the countless times it flashed across Riley’s face, right before she’d do something that drove him crazy. Eleanor turned the rod, holding it horizontally, and jabbing it into Drake’s shins. “Poke poke poke!” 

Riley burst out laughing causing Drake to snap his head in her direction, and giving Eleanor the encouragement she needed to continue her assault on her Uncle. “To be fair, you kind of asked for it. You gave her step by step instructions.”

“Of what not to do! I guess I forgot who's kid I was talking to.” He gently took the rod out of Eleanor’s hand. “Here, I’ll carry it out to the car for you princess.”

“Thank you Uncle Drake!” She ran into her mother’s arms. “Bye Mommy!”

“Bye baby girl. Be a good princess, and make sure you do everything Uncle Drake says.” She gave Eleanor one more squeeze and let her go before approaching Drake. “Thanks for doing this, I know you didn’t expect to spend the whole weekend on babysitting duty.”

“Hey, it’s nothing. I wanted to get some fishing in while I was here anyway, always nice to have a little company.” He ruffled Eleanor’s hair as his face turned more serious. “You going to be ok?”

“The image of my daughter ramming a fishing rod into your shins should be enough to get me through it.” 

“She hangs out with you too much. She needs to spend more time with Liam so she can learn that stoicism shit.” They both laughed as he pulled her into a quick hug. “We’ll be back in a few hours.”

Riley waved as they exited the estate. Yup, that’s my daughter. Taught her everything she knows. She smiled to herself at the thought. She saw Mara approach out of the corner of her eye, and turned to face her. 

“Your appointment is here ma’am, she’s waiting for you in the solarium.”

Continue Reading

Tags: @txemrn @texaskitten30 @kingliam2019 @anjanettexcordonia @twinkleallnight @mile9213 @kittypryde-bipride @motorcitymademadame @kat-tia801 @bebepac @gkittylove99 @khoicesbyk @jessiembruno @queenrileyrose @athena-penrose @pixie88 @eadanga @choicesficwriterscreations @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @annarenee355 @burnsoslow @shewillreadyou @imturaxamara

[tartagilicious]

[CN] victor’s double seventh/qixi date (eng)

this translation was a whole trip mythological aus are the best 😭 for this date, because his name is important to the plot, I decided to keep it as his CN name, Li Zeyan!

all of the qixi translations this year were divided up by a small group of translators, and you can find them on their blogs: @cheri-translates​ did Gavin’s, @redqueenschoice​ did Shaw’s and Lucien’s (though they’re available on Cheri’s blog), @skyholders​ did Kiro’s, and of course, I did Victor’s!

— 

Soldier A: Where did you go?

Soldier B: There is no other way, they must have run into the woods!

Officer A: Chase them!

The voices of the officers and soldiers faded away. I slowly rose from the riverbank and made sure there was no one around. Finally, after a while passed, I stood up straight and took a few deep breaths.

Gripping the peach wood sword in one hand, I carefully picked up my skirt and prepared to step ashore.

??: who are you?

MC: !

As soon as I was about to act, my arm was suddenly pulled tightly, and the sword in my hand almost fell.

I turned my head to see a man behind me squinting at me, and his expression became even more gloomy when he saw my sword. With horns on top of his head, and a tail behind him trailing up to my legs, he seemed to want to impede my actions…

??: This sword…

MC: D-Demon!

I yelled desperately to avoid him, but he was too strong, my attempts ultimately having no effect.

Soldier B: I heard her voice! Over there!

Hearing the voices of officers and soldiers coming from the fork of the mountain road, me and the “Youkai” in front of me were both stunned.

[youkai (妖怪) are a class of supernatural monsters in japanese folklore, and the term doesn’t translate to anything directly, but traditionally means demon or spirit]

I was suddenly reminded of the importance of keeping the peach sword. I didn’t know where I borrowed the strength from, but I broke free of his shackles and forced him back into the water.

MC: Demon, since you haven’t had time to eat me, I won't involve you… so, you hide here, I have to go first!

I picked up my skirt to run once again, but the soaked clothes had since become heavier, and I almost couldn’t even stand firm when I left the river. A very light sigh seemed to be heard behind me, and I was pulled back into the water by force, my back pressing against a warm chest.

MC: you--

“Youkai” ignored me, just casually glancing at the soldiers and officers passing by. I followed his gaze and saw that the vines on the edge of the cliff moved by themselves, entangling the ankles of the officers and soldiers and throwing them back onto the mountain road.

MC: You… be merciful. They are annoying, but not deserving of death.

??: They are not qualified to be killed by me.

As soon as the voice fell, the several officers and soldiers got up and stumbled away. I had just breathed a sigh of relief when the “Youkai” behind me refocused on me.

??: What crime did you commit?

MC: I didn’t commit any crime! I only got my belonging back, it’s those people who are wrong.

I hugged the sword in my arms angrily, and noticing his gaze on me, I immediately regained my bearings.

MC: well… thank you for helping me just now, but can you please not eat me?

??: Didn’t you dare to push me into the water?

He pointed to the peach wood sword in my arms.

??: Is that what opens the barrier?

Barrier?

I looked down thoughtfully. I once heard my father say that there is a kind of barrier that can seal away monsters, and only a peach wood sword stained with one’s blood can break open the entrance. Since more than ten years ago, outside the barrier is no longer home to monsters, but--

MC: could it be that you are… the Guardian Saint Black Dragon?

MC: it’s really a dragon horn… the scales on your tail are so shiny! And wow.. Your clothes are satin. Did you make it yourself?

[stop it mc you’re embarrassing the both of us ;;]

Black Dragon: …

I didn’t expect that I would meet the Guardian saint, and my curiosity was overwhelming, so I forgot how fierce he was just now. Just when I wanted to study his hair again, he suddenly grabbed my hand and pressed me firmly into the shore.

Black Dragon: Have you touched enough?

MC: um…

Black Dragon: You are also a criminal..

I caught his dangerous gaze and swallowed nervously. His gaze moved down my face and finally stopped on the peach wood sword.

Black Dragon: Open the barrier again.

MC: What?

Black Dragon: Open it, and I can count it as you making up for just now.

I don’t know what the consequences of letting the Guardian saint leave without authorisation is, but I still obey what I feel in my heart and nod in agreement. The Black Dragon released his hold on me, but he kept his eyes on me as I walked away, as if he didn’t trust me to honour my promise.

MC: Lord Guardian, do you dislike humans?

Black Dragon: I just don’t trust them.

MC: hmm…. Humans can be very cunning. Someone did you a favour today, and you may be asked to return the favour later.

Black Dragon: ...What do you want to say?

I watched his expression and carefully considered my words.

MC: Now that I’ve promised to open the barrier, I will not break that promise. But, you’ve also seen the situation just now. If I go back like this, I definitely will not be able to keep this sword.

Black Dragon: Is it important to you?

MC: Yeah… My family has been slaying monsters for generations, and this sword is our heirloom. A while ago, the owner of the Jianzhu Workshop stole it. I took it back, but it seems that I’ll have to hide in the future.

Black Dragon: You come from a family that eliminates monsters, so why are you still afraid of them?

I recalled the exaggerated reaction just now, and chuckled embarrassedly.  

MC: Because in the ten years since you were locked away, the world has been very peaceful. We have become accustomed to a world without monsters.

MC: Suddenly seeing someone that’s so different from me, of course I’ll be shocked…

The Black Dragon raised his eyebrows without further comment.

MC: Why don’t we make an exchange! I will help you open the barrier, and you will help me settle the situation. This must not be difficult for you.

Black Dragon: This is the “favour” you want me to pay back?

MC: Yes. I will set the conditions right now as to raise the value in the future. This is an exchange where you can make profit without losing anything.

The Black Dragon was silent for a while, and finally nodded gently

Black Dragon: I can help you, but you must protect important things in the future. Additionally, I won’t help you a second time.

MC: I will! Thank you, Guardian Lord!

I took him down the path and into the city, brainstorming how to have him move around the city without obstacles.

MC: By the way, when we go into town, is it possible that you can hide the horns and tail?

Black Dragon: I can.

He lowered his eyes and blinked, and the dragon horns and tails disappeared.

MC: Ok…. I still need to know your name.

Black Dragon: You do not need to know.

MC: Then, how do you expect me to call you in the city? Are you still called the Guardian Saint?

Black Dragon: That’s not possible.

MC: Lord Black Dragon? Lord?

He frowned and stared at me, not seeming to like my options. I racked my brain to think of more titles, and he sighed, seeming to have come to a decision.

Black Dragon: My surname is Li.

--

In order to avoid the officers and soldiers who might reappear at any time, we were cautious all the way before finally returning home along the right path. However, just as I opened the door, the voice I didn’t want to hear sounded from behind me.

??: Yo, isn’t this that little robber? I didn’t expect to run into people not yet caught by the government today.

The owner of Jianzhu Workshop actually had a group of people wait by my house! I hurriedly hid the peach wood sword behind my back, and stepped forward to block the Black Dragon.

MC: You stole my things, and are so embarrassed that you want the government to arrest me?

Boss: No one saw me steal your things, but many people saw you steal things from my store. What are you going to do?

Most of the people behind him responded and began to surround me. I’m suddenly nervous and at a loss. But, then I see the Black Dragon standing beside me with his arms lifted slightly.

Those who came close seemed to hit an invisible wall, bumping one by one and falling backwards. No matter how many times they tried, they didn’t make any ground.

Boss: T-This is magic! You are monsters!

The group of people looked on at us in horror and kept backing away. The boss ushered them away disdainfully and drew his sword.

Boss: You turned out to have a monster as a helper, but don’t think that this will scare me!

After speaking, he flew forward and leaped, with the sharp tip of his sword barreling straight towards my face. I subconsciously closed my eyes, but the coolness of metal breaking through air did not come as expected.

I hesitated for a moment before slowly opening my eyes, and saw that the boss’s figure was stagnated in the air, and the tip of his sword had stopped less than three inches from my face. In the next second, he also bounced far away like his men had before him, and the sword fell on the ground with a crisp clang.

Boss: What kind of monster is this… cough cough… it’s so powerful.

I secretly glanced at the Black Dragon next to me. He still stood there quietly, as if he hadn’t paid attention to the scene just now.

The boss reluctantly stood up with his sword and walked towards us, but stopped halfway obediently under the gaze of the Black Dragon.

Boss: I can’t beat you anyway, so let’s be honest with each other. I want that sword to conquer the Black Dragon. You should have heard that legend, right? The peach wood sword that has eliminated a demon -- as long as it’s stained with the blood of the Guardian Saint, he will surrender to me.

Boss: Now that the sword is in your hands, as long as you agree to cooperate with me, I can give you a share of the reward as compensation.

MC: It’s too vain to do that!

Boss: Mankind has been eliminating demons for many years, isn’t this point of return justified?

The surrounding temperature seemed to drop suddenly, and I held my sword tighter.

MC: Don’t even think about it. Xiao Li, don’t listen to his nonsense. Let’s tie him up and send him to the government!

I yelled this with a strong momentum, but the fingers hidden under my sleeve secretly hooked onto the Black Dragon’s hand and shook, hoping that he would not mind the disrespectful name. He glanced at me unhappily, but still moved his fingers, making the owner unable to escape.

Seeing some onlookers appeared nearby, I pulled the Black Dragon back, wanting to end this farce as soon as possible.

MC: Everyone is watching. If you still want to keep the Jianzhu Workshop in business, you should move on quickly and forget the ideas you shouldn’t have.

Boss: ….

MC: If you don’t speak, I’ll assume that you agree.

Black Dragon: He is speechless now.

I was stunned for a moment, looking at the flushing boss. But I looked at the Black Dragon and suddenly understood. So, I cleared my throat and deliberately amplified the sound.

MC: Now that you’ve realised your mistakes, go to the government and confess your guilt honestly. As long as you are willing to tell the truth this time, I will not care too much. I believe that the government will give us a fair verdict.

--

After testifying with the government, I locked the door of my house and lit a fire in the corner of the yard. Since the Black Dragon was trapped behind the barrier here, many legends that do not tell the truth have emerged, gradually ranging from spreading his divine power to how to conquer him.

Many seniors believed that the peach wood sword would be abused by people with ulterior motives, so they wanted to destroy the sword. But, it used to be a glory in the family and it was a relic of my father’s. I have always cherished it very much and am not willing to destroy it.  

Until now, I have not really realised how disturbing its existence is.

The wooden sword was thrown into the flame, and the flame seemed to have received my worry, and quickly rose to swallow it. I waited until the flame went out and I doused the embers before returning to the house.

The Black Dragon was not there, and the window facing the black dragon was open. I hurried to the window and heard a little noise coming from the pond.

As soon as I slipped out, I saw the Black Dragon immersed in the pond water, seeming to be examining his own strength. The water around him seemed to diverge and gather, but only for a moment before it suddenly fell back into the pool, revealing his figure. He leaned casually on the bank, his slender fingers outstretched slightly.

The falling flowers on the water floated back onto the shore, embossed under the roots of the trees. The hanging water curtain not far away turned into layers of mist with his simple instruction, and fell onto the other branches with a crisp rustling noise.

For a while, I so surprised that I could hear nothing but the beating of my own heart in my chest.

This is… the strength that has always protected us.

In some kind of broad tenderness, this casual moment silenced the whole world.

He has a small wound on his body that is slowly bleeding, but he doesn’t seem to care. At this time, he had long faded away from his initial vigilance and suspicion, as if he had just found a comfortable place to nurse his fatigue.

Looking at this scene, I suddenly thought that if I had looked at his eyes more when we first met, I definitely wouldn’t have misunderstood his identity. Such a clear and quiet gaze could only belong to a truly powerful being.

Black Dragon: Don’t hide, come out.

MC: Sorry, I didn’t mean to peek on purpose… I thought you were gone.

Black Dragon: I am indeed ready to leave.

Hearing him say this, I felt a little reluctant.

Black Dragon: But I still have a question for you.

MC: What’s the problem?

Black Dragon: Why did you reject that person just now?

I was stunned for a moment, and then realised what he was referring to.

MC: ...The person stealing other people’s things is not credible, and I’m not interested in the conditions he offered. What’s more, is that the sword in my family has been used for generations to eliminate evil, and it cannot hurt a Guardian Saint who brings peace.

I couldn’t help but glance at his wound, and found a handkerchief in my pocket and handed it over.

MC: Why are you hurt?

He turned away slightly, his expression a little unnatural.

Black Dragon: The yard is too small and there are too many trees.

I looked at the small branches scattered around the pond and smirked internally. Naturally, this place can’t be compared with the vast forest. He obviously hasn’t adapted to the new area yet.

MC: Your blood seems to be very important, so wait for me to help you bandage it.

The Black Dragon looked at me, smiled lightly, and grabbed my wrist.

Black Dragon: The legend of the peach sword is false.

MC: What?

Black Dragon: Do you really want to hear more about it?

Looking into his smiling eyes, I almost lost my consciousness and nodded subconsciously. With a little force in his hand, he drew me closer, and the low voice sounded through my ears.

Black Dragon: The conditions that make me surrender never come from other things.

Black Dragon: You asked my name before. Do you know its true meaning?

--

Black Dragon: No way.

MC: I’m really fine!

Black Dragon: If I say no, it means no.

MC: But there is no other way. You’re a guest and a noble Guardian saint, I can't possibly let you sleep on the ground, right?

Black Dragon: …

Considering that the Guardian Saint was injured in my home, I warmly invited him to stay overnight, and he gave me the chance “to make up for the past”. I had taken the initiative to bandage the wound and make dinner for him, but after a smooth night, I suddenly hit a wall in sleeping.

I forgot that my cabin has limited space and only one bed. So, I was going to sleep on the floor, but he didn’t allow it. I had forgotten about the possibility of sleeping in the same bed, so, after thinking about it, I carried the quilt on the ground onto the bed.

Ignoring his surprised gaze, I first climbed into the innermost side of the bed, turned my back to him and patted the empty space behind me.

MC: If nothing else, I sleep very soundly!

I eavesdropped on the man behind me, and after a long silence, I finally heard the sound of the quilt being lifted once again.

The night was still deep, but we laid still for a long time. I still couldn’t sleep. Though, I still remember what he said to me by the pond--

Black Dragon: Names are a curse.

MC: Lord Guardian, are you asleep?

Black Dragon: ...Not yet.

MC: I have a question. Since the name is a kind of curse, many people usually call me, so why didn’t I feel it?

Black Dragon: Because you are all ordinary people.

MC: Is that right…

My curiosity flared up again.

MC: Lord Guardian, my name is ___. Since I am called ordinary, can I ask the unusual Guardian saint to recite it?

I waited for a long time, and the person behind me didn’t respond, as if he didn’t want to acknowledge my whim. I was beginning to grow restless, so I tightened the quilt corner and leaned against the bed.

Black Dragon: Li Zeyan.

MC: ...What?

Li Zeyan: My name. Go to bed now and you’ll still remember it.

MC: !

MC: Did you really just tell me that? Is it okay to?

Li Zeyan: ...If you dare not accept it, I can make you forget now.

MC: Wait, wait! I accept! But, if this isn’t a mantra, does it matter if i recite it?

Li Zeyan: You can give it a try.

MC: ..Li Zeyan

Li Zeyan: Good.

Li Zeyan responded reluctantly and put out the candle. I waited for a while, and it was quiet behind me, as if nothing happened. I’ve been so overwhelmed by the excitement of knowing his name that even in the dark, I'm not willing to close my eyes.

MC: Li Zeyan?

My answer was another stretch of silence.

I grabbed the quilt, and an uncontrollable impulse that could no longer be subdued was relieved through the curling of my lips. So, my brain began whirring and three words suddenly came out.

[she says three words because Victor’s chinese name, Li Zeyan, is characterised like this: 李泽言]

MC: Li Zeyan.

As soon as I was finished speaking, I felt that the bed next to me suddenly sank, my shoulder was caught, and I was pulled over. Before I could even utter an exclamation, I met Li Zeyan’s close face.

Li Zeyan: What are you trying to do?

It seems that every time I get close to him, I can’t think, I can only let the thoughts in my head slip to my lips.

MC: I just think your name sounds nice. I wanted to say again.

Li Zeyan seemed to be taken aback, and his hand holding me loosened.

Li Zeyan: Have you said it enough now? Shut up and sleep when you’ve had enough.

MC: But, I still want to hear you say my name. You know, everything must be exchanged in the human world, and I will sleep only when you say it.

Li Zeyan had probably never heard of such a request before and stopped talking, seeming to be judging if I was joking or not. Seeing that I still met his gaze firmly, he spoke word from word after all.

Li Zeyan: ___.

MC: !

I immediately covered my face, detached from his arm, and retreated to the other side of the bed.

MC: I-I promise to stop talking! I’ll sleep now!

Li Zeyan: ……

However, even when the room was quiet again, my noisy heartbeat did not calm down. Is this the so-called “curse”? This curse is really powerful. No no, it’s the “unusual” Guardian saint that is the most powerful.

I sigh quietly. It seems that I won’t be able to sleep tonight.

The next day, I woke up amidst a strange noise. I opened the window and looked out at the situation on the street. After recalling the day, I remembered that the Qixi festival has arrived.

I turned my head and looked at the other side of the bed: it was empty.

I quickly cleaned myself up and opened the door. I saw Li Zeyan leaning against the door and looking in the direction of the main street.

MC: Good morning.... Li Zeyan.

Li Zeyan glanced at me, and nodded stiffly to communicate a response.

Li Zeyan: Why is it so noisy outside?

I looked at the hint of curiosity in his eyes and suggested with a smile.

MC: If you’re interested, do you wanna go out with me?

The Qixi Festival has always been the most lively summer festival. Stalls have been set up early on the main street to sell all kinds of novel and interesting gadgets. I chose a booth at random and took him over to see it.

MC: Look, it’s a black dragon puppet!

The puppet was dressed in a colorful cloak, and the dragon’s horns and tail were swollen with cotton. I snuck a look at Li Zeyan, and he immediately frowned in disgust.

Li Zeyan: Too exaggerated. There’s no need to look like that.

MC: But it looks so cute!

Li Zeyan: ...Do you like it?

I was thinking about how to respond to the Guardian saint’s question, when the stall owner leaned over with a smile.

Stall Owner: The girl has a good eye! I bought this black dragon puppet from a temple of incense. Buying it back will surely protect both of you. For today’s holiday, if you each buy one, the price is discounted! Son, what do you think?

Li Zeyan: I don’t need it.

I took a peek at him, smiled and put down the puppet, then raised my arm and shook it indifferently.

MC: I don’t need it either. 

I have been favoured by fate, so I can at least leave the puppets to others.

I don’t know if it’s my illusion, but Li Zeyan seemed to slow down and walk with me patiently. I guess he must have rarely had such a talkative moment during the long years he spent in the forest.

I secretly made up my mind to take him today to experience the “world fireworks”.

[it was never explicitly stated, but I’m guessing that this refers to the tradition of kongming lanterns mentioned soon.]

In the long main streets, through countless shops and stalls, we stop and try our best to spend this special day seriously. I imagined the Guardian saint who was aloof, but I was so entranced that I didn’t even dare blink my eyes, and together we studied the mysteries of the street performers

He still occasionally resents helplessness, but unexpectedly does not refuse assistance. Perhaps because of the smoke and fire, I almost forgot his original identity.

Time passed by, and the end of the main street was already in front of me. A small river transverses, and there are already many people piercing Kongming lanterns on both sides of the river

Li Zeyan: What’s the purpose of this?

MC: It’s a paper lantern to make wishes on. It rises into the sky after you light the inside of it. People write their wishes on the lamps, and the gods in sky will see it and may even help realise it. 

Li Zeyan: How can there be such a thing?

MC: Today is the Qixi Festival, you can’t say such things! If it’s heard by the seventh sister in the sky, it will be bad.

Li Zeyan: ...what wishes do you generally make?

MC: On the Qixi Festival, everyone will wish for a good hand or a good marriage.

Li Zeyan: what about you?

MC: I…

I looked at a few pairs of lovers not too far away, and silently lowered my head. If you desire too much, than what’s the difference between me and those who want to imprison the Guardian saint?

But, perceiving Li Zeyan’s gaze on me, I cheered up and decided to answer the question in another way.

MC: Right, tonight, I want to see the stars, so I’ll take you to a good place to see them!

The pavilion at the foot of the mountain is part of a summer resort that I accidentally discovered when I was young. Now that the area is kept dense, the water is as clear as a mirror. The mountain breeze in the evening is very cool, blowing away all the heat of the day.

Li Zeyan leaned in the pavilion, looking at the distance with a relaxed expression.

MC: Is the Guardian Saint satisfied with this place?

Li Zeyan: well, it’s not bad.

MC: No one else will come here, so you can relax.

Li Zeyan seemed to have seen through the words as I was expecting, and showed a pair of beautiful dragon horns and a tail.

MC: I wanted to say it the first time I saw you, but, you’re really good looking.

Li Zeyan: In your imagination, was I ugly?

MC: Um… I was only expecting you to be more fierce.

Li Zeyan: And i did not expect that the one to open the barrier would be a reckless “bandit”.

I turned my head angrily, but I saw the smile at the corner of his mouth at a glance, and the feeling of dissatisfaction disappeared immediately.

I handed Li Zeyan a small purse I'd been holding in my arms.

MC: Just in case, I decided to prepare you something.

Li Zeyan took it and opened it, holding up a small peach wood sword pendant.

MC: Even though it’s small, it has the same effect as the original sword!

Li Zeyan: ...Didn’t you burn the sword?

MC: I secretly broke off a piece of the hilt of the sword, I think my father would not mind. But, if you ever encounter the barrier in the future, you can walk out by yourself.

Li Zeyan: “Self?” Where are you going?

MC: You definitely don’t want to stay in this world, do you? I couldn’t even go to heaven with you.

Li Zeyan: You don’t have to go so far. The freedom I want has nothing to do with where I am.

MC: But, you said yesterday that you were ready to leave… Are you going to another town?

Li Zeyan looked at the pendant and pondered a moment before speaking.

Li Zeyan: The forest is very large… but it’s not as good as a small yard.

Li Zeyan: No matter whether it is man or a god, there are no taboos, but it depends on whether that restriction is actively being accepted by itself. The spell of that name is a lock, and only those who know it can open it.

Li Zeyan: Just now, I've put the lock and key into your hands. So, I must keep you by my side.

I stared at him with a serious look, and it took a long time to find my voice.

MC: My home is so small... You will either get hurt or you will not sleep well...

MC:  I can’t accompany you to heaven, but I can go with you anywhere else in the world. Because you know my name, I also want to keep you by my side.

He laughed at me, hooked his finger at me, and I leaned in faintly.

Li Zeyan: In this case, I’ll leave this on you.

With warm fingertips around my neck, he put the pendant on me. I stretched out my hand to caress the small pendant, and my heart was filled with wonder. I have no supernatural power, nor have I learned to kill demons and eliminate evil. Only this little peach wood sword and myself, who keeps the secret, will become his keys together.

I pulled out a comb from the side drawer and handed it to him.

MC: According to human rules, to make such an important agreement, you have to help me comb my hair.

Li Zeyan hesitated and took the comb suspiciously.

Li Zeyan: I have never brushed anyone’s hair before…

MC: You will live in this world in the future, so you can learn more.

Li Zeyan: Why are there so many rules?

MC: This is how humans are.

In order to reduce the difficulty, I took the initiative to lift up a strand of hair

MC: Comb this strand, and it will be done after three times.

Li Zeyan: Why?

I held back my smile and tried to find excuses for my careful thinking.

MC: Hmm… Because this way, the agreement will last longer.

A helpless sigh was heard from behind me, but he still continued. The movements were very slow and light, and he took care to not hurt me at all. Time seemed to stop in this moment, and at the same time, lovers of heaven and earth meet.

I leaned on his lap and peaked at the reflection in the water: he’s clearly smiling.

As the night darkened, a Kongming lantern suddenly floated in the distance. Orange lights gradually revealed themselves in the night sky, like stars symbolising wishes.

MC: What a nice view...

Li Zeyan retracted his eyes from the sky and looked at me.

Li Zeyan: I remember that you haven’t said your wish.

I stroked his hand holding the comb and combed the hair to the bottom with him.

“Three combs to the end, will tie two hearts together forever.”

The night breeze is cool, bringing the wishes of the world to the sky. And there is still a wish, turning into a quiet whisper before falling into someone’s ear. The person who receives this wish is my destination.

[melanated-maddy]

TYTON

Hey welcome to this fan fiction. I recently finished war storm and I’m in love with Tyton. Couldn’t help but want to right a fic after seeing so little on this guy on tumblr. Don’t know if I’ll write more as got exams but if you like let me know! All characters and world and everything belongs to the queen herself Victoria Aveyard

Chapter 1

“Debark, debark, debark.”

Tyton was snapped out of his musings pale fingers still gripped against the fading cover of his book. They’d finally arrived back in Ascendant after another long plane journey. A year after the kingdom of Norta was officially dissolved with Cal’s abdication there was still unrest with the Silvers. Too many houses had attempted to feel comfortable on the sparkling throne. ‘Osanos says water comes after fire, Rhambos is taking strength and power a little too literally and Merandus is trying hard to distance themselves from the insanity their own brought forth in Maven and actually claim the throne. At least there’s no more Samos worries. That ship sailed or should I say smashed along with Volo’s head with his offspring are safely tucked away in the capital.’ The soldiers on the plane had started their move off some in a rush to get home to worried families and others ready to have a drink. Davidson was the closet family Tyton had after his own lost their lives to a raid. His mother, father and two younger brothers all gone in an instant. That instance was the first time Tyton’s ability was able to properly manifest. Properly surge. Properly show how dangerous he was. It was Davidson who found him when searching the wrecks of homes and families. Still holding his brother’s Aeon’s hand tears in his eyes. Davidson was always quiet even back in those days and knelt to Tyton’s small height hugging him close. After that day Davidson properly set about burying the family well allowing Tyton to grieve and giving him another place to call home. He’d never admit it, but Tyton was lucky...relieved that Davidson and Carmadon took him in. Even if those raiders who had taken his family from him deserved his rage, he was terrified of the lightning under his skin. With a huff, Tyton uncoiled his long body from his seat standing and stretching up to remind his muscles of their function. The suit he wore was dark not one of the traditional Montfort green it just would not do for some missions. Under his seat he pulled free the small bag carrying a bottle of water, bag of nuts and stored the book into it securely. It was the last thing he’d received from his parents and even so he still struggled to get through it properly. As Tyton turned to move out the aircraft door onto the tarmac he spotted Mare struggling to reach an overhead compartment to grab something. He quickly moved forward and grabbed hold of two items: a maroon scarf and backpack.

“Thanks.”

“No worries I’m always available to help the vertically challenged.”

Mare’s face turned into a vivid shade of crimson and she moved as if ready to punch his arm when Cal swung his head back into the cabin. He seemed exasperated which quickly shifted to a swift glare as his eyes settled on how close the two were.

“Tyton.”

“Cal.”

“Mare what's taking so long?”

“Difficulties getting the scarf and backpack you decided to thrust into the overhead bin. As well as being ready to obliterate string bean here.”

Tyton gave a chuckle, although he was slightly leaner than Cal a string bean he was not.

“Don’t worry just helping her out she’s still yours, your highness.”

Cal bristled with the label, but Tyton was already strolling out onto the blinding tarmac doused in bright light.

As he got his bearings about himself, Tyton could not help feeling the pulses of electricity going off in every person around hims body. Just as you could imagine different emotions and thoughts had different electric compositions. As people moved around he recognised stress signals, pulses of joy and shifts of concentration. The signals never went away but with time he’d found away to keep them working in tandem with him so he didn’t get overwhelmed.

“Tyton come on rides here.” Rafe called his hair in the sun giving the appearance of green flames.

Tyton walked to the transport, long legs eating up the distance in a few moments to be face to face with Rafe. Ella must’ve caught a different one as the storm addict’s blue hair was no where to be seen. Together the two walked towards Davidson who was speaking to Arezzo in hushed tones. With a nod she was dismissed walking instead of jumping to wherever she needed to go. Davidson turned to the two a smooth smile on his face and opened his mouth, but was interrupted by a quick trill.

“Rafe!”

A blur of orange smashed into Rafe’s chest holding him tightly as he clutched her back.

Laughing Rafe greeted her, “Iz, nice to see you too, but you’re crushing me.”

With one last tug, Izelle released her older brother a wide grin tugging on her lips as she looked up at him. Izelle, was Rafe’s little sister by a year who shared his dark brown skin smooth and even and bright smile. In her orange dress that spun around her knees and black combat boots, she giggled letting her hair of tight curls circling her head move slightly held back with an orange band.

“Is it wrong for me to have missed my dumb big brother? Am I wrong Tyton?”

Tyton smiled and shook his head as Rafe glared at him.

“So nice to know that it won’t be a strongarm that gets me but my sister’s choke hold.”

Iz shoved Rafe as he rolled his eyes and moved to put his bags in the transport while Iz turned to greet Tyton.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

And with that Tyton opened his arms and Izelle moved into them giving him a tight hug.

‘Her hugs are always great.’

“Thanks for looking out for Rafe. I’m one hundred percent sure he’s not dead somewhere because of you.”

A deep rumble erupted from Tyton as he shook his head. They walked to the transport as Tyton asked how she’d been.

“All good here finally ready to move onto the fourth arc only two more to go before I’m a qualified teacher of education.”

“That’s excellent. You’ve worked hard for it.”

“Yeah it’s been so long definitely the hardest thing I’ve faced, but it’ll be so worth it once I’m in a class with little guys.”

“Do you know what specialism you’ll take yet Izzy?”

In Montfort, classes were not segregated at all with children of all blood types getting the same education to the best standard they could. Those who were Ardent or Silver has supplementary classes to help in coming into their abilities. However, it was courtesy for teachers at normal school to specialise in understanding one blood type well so that support chains could be used in school for any student struggling.

“I’m not sure yet to be honest. I’ve still got to think, might swing for Ardent or Red they’ve already got lots of silver specialists.”

Tyton liked listening to Izzy speak. Her mind although more hyperactive than most was one he enjoyed feeling the thrum of. She would be an excellent teacher one who was fun and silly, but able to understand and be serious when needed. For all her loudness Rafe often called her the thunder to his lightning. As Izzy spoke she tended to often get enthralled by her words and lost her bearings of where she was. So much so she didn’t see a smaller transport squealing into her path. In seconds Tyron had pulled her back allowing the small buggy to rush past on its was.

“Izzy.”

“Ha sorry about that. Forgive me.”

And with a smile, all was forgiven.

“Come on Rafe is definitely going to start a mood if we don’t hurry up,” and with that she pulled his arm to the transport releasing him to clamber up and take a seat next to Rafe. For all the bickering and teasing they did the two siblings loved each other dearly. They had sought refuge in Montfort from the Piedmont principalities with their mother. The two remembered little about their original home as they had left so young, but the happiness Montfort gave them was all they needed. Forgetting all about her conversation with Tyton, Izzy poked Rafe to tell her all about Norta and what things they’d encountered. Izzy had never left Montfort. She was definitely not a soldier, barely remembering to tuck in her thumbs properly when punching Rafe and the Ardent abilities had only passed to him so a useful electricon on the battlefield she was not. The ride to Ascendant was bumpy, Davidson muttering about looking into the concrete and upkeep of the infrastructure when back home. The air rushed in as they sped across the landscapes moving closer to the capital with every second until the transport stopped in a quick halt. The stop was so fast Izzy almost span out of her seat if not for Rafe and Tyton’s arms coming to forth to stop her fall.

“What’s going-“

Davidson was cut off when a terrible crunch sounded off. Leaning forward, he could see one of the transports being crushed the metal casings crumbling against each other. Without a thought Davidson threw out a shield glowing blue in the setting sun surrounding the two vehicles.

“Raiders already?” Rafe hit his head against the seat in frustration before moving out of the car to help passengers in the afflicted vehicle. Tyton quickly went about feeling how many Raiders were out there without being told.

“10, all seems to be magnetron. 3 females, 7 males. Wait they’re leaving?”

“Leaving?”

“Yeah moving away.”

Davidson heaved a sigh, “Radio in for some teleporters for the wounded.”

“They’re already here.” Tyton looked out seeing that those badly injured were being jumped back. Being so close to Ascendant meant the teleporters could make the jump.

“Alright then, destroy that transport don’t leave anything of use behind for them.”

With that, Tyton moved to the transport now empty and absentmindedly called forth a storm preparing for a powerful bolt. The skies darkened as his storm came into existence. Davidson let the shield down for a moment to let the bolt come through. In a fraction of a second, a burning bolt of lighting came down from the sky smashing against the transport reducing it to dust and scorched earth. The air singed with crackle as the fire wreck obliterated. Tyton surveyed the scene inspecting the damage to see if it was at a high enough level to not be useful to a magnetron. Being happy with it he turned and started to walk back to Davidson and Izzy, Rafe already sitting in his seat. He was laughing at Izzy as she covered her ears wincing at the terrible sound of the lightning on metal. It was a sound not comfortable for most ears, but Tyton’s power was unheard of in an Ardent. He was different to the other electricons being able to handle electricity more naturally than even them. It didn’t take much for him to call a storm bolt of that magnitude. As he was within a few metres of the transport he suddenly felt a barrage of electrical energy moving towards them. Recognising it as the previous magnetrons he turned to quickly release brain lightning on them being able to drop 4 of them before one let off a spike. Moving out of the way he could do, but the spike still got him in the side forcing him to the ground. Davidson’s shields again went up and Tyton was pulled into the transport as it began to drive away with Davidson’s shields still up. Izzy clambered towards him pulling apart his suit to get a better look at the cut. Her hand pressed down hard as she told Rafe to get the medical kit under the seat. Tyton grasped onto her had holding it down as he grimaced from the pain. “You’re fine it’s only a scratch.” Izzy nervously laughed.

“Of course because scratches produce this much blood.”

“Shut up big baby. I’ve met toddlers tougher than you,” she grinned and Tyton smiled back focusing on her electricity and letting it calm him down in the transport racing back to Ascendant.

[someone-worth-racing-for]

Hi! I was wondering why do you think Lando doesn't like being all sentimental and doesn't like being touched too much especially in public? 😊 I was wondering because I'm trying to write my original stories and sometimes I want to write a character like Lando (being from a happy family house and surrounded by friends) who just don't act like that, even though you can clearly see his parents hugging him and stuff (so we was always taught love). Like my question is not exactly about 100% Lando but why do you think people act like that? (Nothing wrong with it of course). I'm asking because I LOVE your writing and you understand your characters very well! ❤

Hey, you!

Well, that’s actually a very interesting question.

Let me first start with the man himself. I know what you mean with saying that Lando obviously doesn’t feel that comfortable with being touched. I remember that video from testing 2020, when Lando has told Henrik that he hates being touched. I would have probably felt/said the same thing in that situation, because Lando was covered with sweat after driving and I also wouldn’t have liked to get touched while being in that state.

I don’t know if all the other times Lando has said/showed that he doesn’t like to get touched were really all serious meant and not just in a teasing kind of way (or moody teenager). I mean, I think almost all of us are uncomfortable to get touched by a stranger, but I don’t think that Lando really hates it. I think that he even enjoys it secretly, he is aware of the message behind the gesture by people he knows already for a longer time, trusts or even calls his friends.

Like when Andreas has given Lando a hug after the Imola qualifying. Even tho Lando was still sad and frustrated about how the qualifying has turned out and also Andreas' hug probably hasn’t changed anything about his feelings, I still think that it was good for Lando to know that no one was mad at him and that they were actually all feeling for him. I think that he has actually appreciated the gesture. I also think that he secretly likes/enjoys Carlos’ little touches and well-meant hugs, feeling loved and cared for, even tho he would probably never admit so.

And I also don’t think that Lando doesn’t show his real feelings or doesn’t get sentimental. Even the opposite if you ask me! I’m still surprised about how open he shows his feelings - no matter if he is all happy and overjoyed or sad and frustrated. I still can’t believe that he has cried in front of thousands of people watching him live on Twitch, because he has shaved his hair. Or when he has cried on the team radio because Jarv left the team with the end of 2019. Or when he has made that mistake in Singapore back in 2019 and you could exactly see the way he was feeling during the interviews.

I actually really admire the way he expresses so openly his feelings, because I could never do so. I mean, it’s more than just a stereo type that men in F1 are all tough and strong, but I have never imagined that Lando would be like that, because of yeah, ‘I’m a F1 driver now and I should actually never show my real emotions, because I belong to the big boys now’ kind of thing. I really like that about him a lot!

Well, back to the actual topic. I know what you mean with Lando growing up in a happy place with caring parents and friends around him, showing him what love means, and I’m also still surprised that he hugs his parents like he did after his first qualifying in Australia 2019, at launch day 2020 or during testing 2020. I have never expected that from a F1 driver, so I’m happy he obviously doesn’t give a damn about what other people think about him.

But I get it what you mean - why does he feel so uncomfortable then when other people are touching/hugging him? Maybe he had once made a bad experience (nothing too bad, maybe something when he had been way younger and he just can’t forget about it anymore) and only let close body contact happen anymore by people he really knows and trusts.

Or maybe he doesn't know/feel comfortable enough to show his affection to someone with touching that person in a friendly/brotherly/respective/caring kind of way or maybe he also doesn't want to hug someone, because he is afraid to do something wrong, get the other person uncomfortable or that people will laugh at him for trying.

Maybe it has also to do with his age - maybe when he will be older and has matured even more he starts to really enjoy body contact or show his affection through body contact as well.

Maybe it’s also just a phase of his life to not let anyone close to him, even tho he actually screams inside to get some affection and body contact, but of course he would never ask for it. Showing them all that he can take care of himself and doesn’t need anyone around him to look after him, even tho some support would still be great and help him develop.

Okay, going away from Lando now and telling you about the way I feel. Actually I also don’t hug my family, I don’t know why - it really has nothing to do with that I don’t like them (at least by most of them), but we just never do that. I think it maybe has also to do, because I can call myself lucky with having them all close to me. For example, I do hug my best friend I’m only able to see every few months since she lives hours away from me. I think that if I would live hours away from my family as well, I would also hug them when I will finally be able to see them again.

I really don’t hate being touched or hug someone, but it’s just not common for my family or for Austrians in general (at least from what I can tell). Maybe that also explains it for Lando. I don’t have a clue about how people in the UK feel about it (of course there are always exceptions), but in Spain people obviously seem to be very touchy (or at least Carlos 😅), so maybe it has something to do with the nationality as well 🤷🏼‍♀️

If I would try to hug some of the people I call my friends, most of them would freak out about it as well just like Lando, or about any other body contact or touches in general. They would even call me crazy for just trying it - it's just the weird way we are here at my place 🙄🤷🏼‍♀️

Even tho I would really welcome it and also admire it, when someone is actually that touchy way. I think it has also much to do with people are getting raised and the environment they are growing up.

I really don’t know if this all was helpful in the end, but at least I have tried it.. 🙈

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Orientation Talk

Alastor realizes he and Telly @usedhearts have, in fact, never discussed with each other how they see their sexualities. Which seems like a rather important thing to know about the person you're dating.

From there they segue into talking about their experiences with antemortem queer communities and drag.

Alastor

The door slams open. “SEXUALITY!” Apparently this is how Alastor is saying “hello” today. “That’s the word of the decade, isn’t it! Everyone wants to know what everyone else’s sexuality is! There’s thirty new labels and all of them are color-coded!” A wave of his hands and a bunch of magical miniature pride flags flutter around like confetti and then disappear. “And for all that, I’ve made the ghastly error of just—taking for granted that I already know yours! So!” He looks around. He got through that monologue confident that Telly is, in fact, in the room, without actually checking.

THERE he is. “So!!” Alastor crosses the room to plop a hand on Telly’s shoulder. “You... what do you consider yourself? Anything in particular? You ARE inclined toward both ladies and gentlemen, aren’t you?”

Sir Pentious

At the slamming door and the sudden shout, Telly's hood flares and he lets out a mighty hiss!! Look at him, how scary!!!

Oh, it was just Alastor. Alastor asking about his.... sexuality? Well, alright, that was new.

"Yes, of course. I thought that would be plain to see? I think the modern term is 'bisexual'? Yes." His head tilted. "Why the sudden interest, darling?"

Alastor

“Well, I thought you were!” A shrug! “But your alternate thought you’re only inclined toward men, so...!” ANOTHER SHRUG. “I thought I ought to check.”

Sir Pentious

There was a slight, momentary BWUAGH at that revelation-- Penny had thought he was only into men? How? But he shook away the thought to focus back on the conversation.

"For a while I thought I might, honestly-- be just into men, that is. But well...." He smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "Ladies...."

Alastor

Alastor nodded slowly in comprehension.

Then shook his head slowly. No. The nod was a lie. He didn’t comprehend. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Sir Pentious

"I always liked ladies, but the only one I truly fancied before I died was Olivia. But well we....you know. And then I fell for George." A shrug. "So until I died, I didn't really think of it. And then after, it wasn't really important for a good, oh, decade or so."

Another shrug. "What about you?"

Alastor

He nodded again, taking mental notes. So that was attraction without the full-blown romantic feelings? Outside of Hollywood, attraction was such a mysterious, malleable thing—

—oh, but now Telly wanted to know about *Alastor’s* mysterious malleable thing. At least Alastor’s was a lot smaller. “Well, that depends! Would you extrapolate an orientation from a sample size of one?”

Sir Pentious

Telly tilts his head, thinking about it. "Not really? If there's only one, than that's an outlier and shouldn't be counted."

Alastor

"That's generally what I think about it! And going by that, my preferences are for none of the above, thanks, I'm just fine—which these days I'm told is called 'aromantic and asexual'—you need both those terms, apparently—which, sure, fine, they get the job done. But you *do* have to throw out that outlier."

Sir Pentious

Telly thought a moment. "Am....I the outlier? Or, rather, Sir Pentiouses?"

His head tilted, his claw tapping at his chin. "Hmmm..."

Alastor

"Yes, sir, you are." A crooked smile. "So, count the outlier, and I'm stone cold gay. All the people I've ever been attracted to have been men, all one of 'em. So, it depends on the qualifying criteria for all the different terms—and that's out of my hands. The terms belong to other people, not me."

Sir Pentious

"Well, the terms are there for you to slap on yourself and say 'this is me'. But if you don't wish to slap any on, then, who can _make_ you? No one!" Telly smirked, leaning closer to kiss the tip of his nose.

"It'sss none of anyone elssse'ss business anyway! You don't want anything with anyone but me, that's fine by me." He snickered.

Alastor

Alastor shakes his head. “No, no—the terms don’t exist for slapping on yourself, they exist for showing off to other people. That’s the *only* reason they exist. It’s like a soldier wearing a uniform—you don’t wear one because you like it, you wear one to ensure your side doesn’t shoot at you and that you get let into the mess hall for food. The terms tell other people which groups you belong to. It’s the business of the groups to decide which criteria qualify individuals for membership, and the business of the individuals to learn the criteria and whether or not they qualify. So that’s the question, see. Not ‘am I gay’ but ‘would the gays consider me gay.’” He slings an arm around Telly’s neck—not for any particular reason, he just feels like hanging off of Telly. “Personally, I don’t much care, but! You asked about me, and those are the closest labels I can get without knowing how the population at large handles outlier cases.” He shrugs.

Sir Pentious

"Perhaps more research is required. I'm _sure_ you're not the ONLY person to ever exist who's been like this when it came to romance and sex." He flicked his tongue against Alastor's cheek. Get licked.

"I find the term bisexual works for me. And I say that whatever you are, I like it. The terms change so much, who's to say if we will not have new ones in a few decades anyway!"

Alastor

“What, a man who fell for one man but nobody else? Oh, I’m sure there’s been more! There’s certainly enough pulp novels about them. Although they’re usually about repressed men having their gay awakening. I don’t think that applies to me—I considered that I might be inclined toward men long before I considered that I might be inclined toward no one.”

He gets licked. That shouldn’t make his heart flutter, *and yet.* Just ignore how goofy his smile looks for a couple seconds, he’s TRYING to focus here. “Oh, I’m sure we will! They’ve got to reshuffle all the categories every couple decades or so, haven’t they? In my time I would have gone by ‘confirmed bachelor.’ Told people exactly what to expect from you without telling them a thing about what you got up to. Category X was my favorite descriptor, though—it sounds like something out of a science fiction horror picture show.”

He leans more heavily on Telly while he gestures with his free hand, like he’s indicating the words on a movie poster: “‘The Mystery of Category X!’ ‘The X Category from Outer Space!’ ‘You can run, but you can’t hide, from... Category X!’” He laughs, then glances up at Telly. “I suppose you haven’t always gone by ‘bisexual’ either?”

Sir Pentious

"I like that one, too. Category X has pizzazz!" He let out a hissing laugh, squishing his cheek into Alastor's.

"Oh, certainly not, I don't think they had a term for it in my day! I started hearing it sometime in the 1900s, I'm not sure when exactly." Telly shrugged briefly.

"I never really encountered anyone else who was like me, at least not one that I wasn't ensconced with at the time! I never had that sort of 'community', I suppose."

Alastor

“Really? No one?” Had Telly died thinking he and George were the only men in the world who wanted to sleep with other men? No, that couldn’t be possible—he was an upper-class gent, surely he’d at least read Greek poetry and such? Homer? “Never crossed paths with Oscar Wilde’s crowd?”

Sir Pentious

A slight BWUAGH at the mention of Wilde and Telly blinked rapidly. "Wilde? No? He was an artist, I was an engineer. We hardly ran in the same circles. I was also a recluse and generally only socialized, when forced, with people that my mother approved of, and she certainly did NOT approve of him."

He snorted and shook his head. "Probably thought he would've queered me up even more, if we had crossed paths."

Alastor

“Hah! I suppose that makes sense. Inventors and and entertainers aren’t frequent bedfellows, are they?” A wink; yes, he realizes the irony. “I suppose I’m the lucky one—I fell in with the *theater crowd.* From 1922 on, the only straight people I knew were my mother and my coworkers, and I’m not sure about my coworkers!” He laughs. “No, that’s an exaggeration. Not by much.”

Sir Pentious

"Ah yes, _actors_ the bane of my parents' existence! How they loved to talk about how _actors_ 'corrupted the youth' and all that hogwash! Looking back, it's funny to think about." He laughed again, leaning against Alastor.

"But tell me more about it, I'm dreadfully curious."

Alastor

“And they were *right!* Why, I hung out with actors in my youth, and look where I am now!” He gestured around himself. At Telly’s room. “... I meant ‘in Hell,’ but our present surroundings don’t quite convey that, do they.” He laughed.

“What, the theater crowd? Or the queer crowd? Granted, there’s a lot of overlap...”

Sir Pentious

"And yes, I, who never did, am also here! Though perhaps that is more because of the whole murder and blowing up half of London thing." He laughed more.

"Oh both! Or either! I don't know much about either one, both sound fascinating."

Alastor

“Well, if you weren’t hanging out with *actors,* I guess all that murder is the only explanation left, isn’t it?”

Oh, if only they had the time to sit together while Alastor told Telly every single detail of both his theater career and the queer scenes he’d been involved in—and then the rest of his life—and then get Telly to share every detail of *his* life. But for now, he’d have to narrow it down.

“When I first got involved in New York City, the scene was a little bit of both—theater *and* queer! The crowd I fell in with was very performance-oriented. You know, drag balls, that sort of thing. They started drawing in tourists, even! Straight folks would pay money to come to the balls and be entertained by the men in dresses—that was how we were referred to then, ‘female impersonators’ they were called. If I ran into the souls I knew back then today, I think some would still consider themselves that, but others by now might consider themselves transsexual women who decided to make a show out of their transformations—but those weren’t different categories yet. All of us wore trousers at our day jobs and wore skirts at parties, and that made us the same as each other, even if our private reasons for putting on a skirt were different.”

He’d let go of Telly and started pacing around as he spoke, gesturing, playing snips of party music, briefly summoning up shades wearing the silhouettes of elaborate gowns, dancing with them for a measure or two. “It was such a big tourist draw that if you showed up with a skirt and an Adam’s apple, you could get into a ball at a discount! It was a *thrilling* party scene, but... well, it was a party scene.” The energy of the music and shadows started dying, like a wound-up music box slowing down. “It got exhausting. New York wore me out. Or I wore myself out in New York—one or the other.”

Sir Pentious

Telly watched the show-- and what a show it was! Alastor was always the entertainer, even now, with an audience of one. He settled onto his coils, eyes following Alastor's every gesture, smiling when he twirled with shades.

"Yes, it _does_ sound like that would get exhausting after a while! I could hardly stand the stuffy balls that I went to in my day, I can't even imagine what ones intended for FUN must've been like, especially doing it all the time." He set his chin on his hands, now resting on his tail.

"What about New Orleans? What was it like there? More parties?"

Alastor

“No! Well, *some*—it *was* the twenties—but it wasn’t like New York’s scene. All the masculine women and feminine men sort of clustered together in the *Vieux Carré*—now *there* was where the *artists* hung out—and you’d have your speakeasies and your rowdy nights, but it wasn’t a *spectacle.* New Orleans was very laid back, always had been.” And just talking about it, Alastor looked more laid back himself—less frantically energetic and more comfortable. Like he’d actually *come* home instead of just talking about it. He even stopped waltzing around and plopped down on Telly’s coils.

“They were very French about the whole thing, which primarily meant ‘mind your own business.’” He laughed, conjuring up a shadow pantomime of a couple of gossips whispering to each other. “Try to tell one neighbor about spotting another with his tongue down a man’s throat, and the neighbor’s more likely to be offended that you’re spreading this around than they are to be offended at what the other neighbor’s been up to.” One of the gossips silently scolded the other for bringing up the subject, and then the shadows dissolved. “It wasn’t wholehearted *love,* by any means—but you get a little extra privacy when nobody wants to know about everyone else’s affairs. That’s what New Orleans was like.”

Sir Pentious

Telly hummed, nodding along. "Yes, that sounds better to me too. I like the New Orleans way, but then again, I always did like the French!"

He laughed a little. "That's not very English of me, is it? I should hate the French! But here I am, with a French lover-- or at least, French adjacent. How scandalous!" Another, louder laugh, as he wrapped his arms around Alastor's waist.

Alastor

“A *French lover!* Me!” He laughed loudly. “Well, aren’t we a pair fit for a saucy short story! You could be the unworldly English student studying abroad in Paris, and I’d be the pretty French girl who keeps throwing you come-hither looks. You’d fall for my mysterious sexual allure and I’d fall for your... you know, none of those short stories ever explain what it is the French girls see in the English students. Probably because they tend to be written by British men.”

He tapped Telly’s chest, “Did they have those stories when you were alive? There’s this *one* author I read who only wrote two things: bone-chilling horror, and artists falling in love with nubile young French girls. I couldn’t *stand* when he wrote about French girls.”

Sir Pentious

Telly couldn't help laughing at that. "Oh, sounds like every young man I knew who went to spend a year abroad. They _all_ wanted a French mistress, or an Italian one, though those seemed to be harder to come by."

His head tilted as he thought. "It's not ringing a bell, but I'm sure if I saw his name I would recognize him. I've always been a fan of horror." He flicked out his tongue. "But back on topic! You joined in with the balls and such in New York, but what about in New Orleans?"

Alastor

Alastor dragged his head back from trying to remember the name of a war story by the same author and an entirely unrelated book about a *male* French lover—to be continued later, maybe—and back to the question at hand. New Orleans balls?

“Oh, New Orleans didn’t have balls, not like New York. Not that I got invited to, anyway. There were *professional* ‘female impersonators’—they were on stages all across the country in the twenties—but that was show business. In the *Vieux Carré* bars, anyone dressed unusually was doing it for themselves rather than for an audience.”

Sir Pentious

"Did you ever join in there?" His head tilted, and he flicked his tongue at Alastor. A fully captivated snake, that's what he had on his hands right now.

Alastor

“In *New Orleans?* Goodness, no! Far too close to home! It was Prohibition! What if the Mabel men came knocking? If my mother had to see me locked up in a cell, I wanted to give her as few questions to ask me as possible!” He laughed. “Anyway, the New York scene burned me out for the next couple of decades. Once I left the North, I didn’t pick it up again until I’d been dead a while.”

Sir Pentious

"What, the 'female impersonation'? Or just generally being more openly a part of queer spaces?" Cue a head tilt, but this time in the OTHER direction. Such versatility.

Alastor

“Female impersonation—although I don’t like to call it that when I do it. I’m not trying to impersonate a female, I’m... well, whatever I’m doing.” A vague shrug. Thoughts. “I prefer ‘drag.’ It... implies less about one’s motivations, I suppose.”

Sir Pentious

When Alastor said that, something finally clicked in Telly's mind and he sat up suddenly, letting out a loud "Oh!"

"SO _THAT'S_ WHAT DRAG IS! I'D BEEN MEANING TO ASK YOU AT THE BALL BUT WE GOT, WELL, DISTRACTED!" He laughed.

Alastor

“Y... you didn’t know—?” Alastor blinked at him, then wheezed in laughter. “Telly, *mon roi,* YOU were in drag!”

Sir Pentious

Telly rolled his eyes (all of them) and crossed his arms, giving a huff. "YES, I KNOW THAT _NOW_. BUT AT THE TIME, I HADN'T HEARD THE TERM BEFORE! OR I HAD AND JUST NEVER CONNECTED IT TO THE WHOLE SUBCULTURE OR SOME SUCH THING!"

A couple more huffs. Huff huff. And then he settled. And he pouted.

Alastor

Oh no, not the pouting. Alastor tried *very hard* to stop laughing. “Well—“ a giggle escaped, “—you know now.”

Sir Pentious

He huffed again but then relaxed a little more, reaching to take Alastor's hand and play with his fingers.

"Well, you've seen ME in drag, when do I get to see _you_ in it, hm?"

Alastor

“Oh?” THAT got Alastor to stop laughing, although it didn’t do a thing to banish the mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “In ten minutes, if you want.”

Sir Pentious

Telly's tongue stuck out and he blinked, before grinning. "Really? Just ten minutes? Doesn't it usually take a long time to get into drag? I mean, it took me _hours_ to get fully ready, and that was before the paint!"

He chuckled.

Alastor

“It depends on how you do it. I’m a bit more minimalist in my approach.” He was going to take that as a request to see. He winked, slid off of Telly’s coils, and ducked into the false bathroom to change. He slipped of his shoes and used them to wedge the door a couple inches open so they could keep talking. “It’s why I can’t get into the whole drag *scene.* It gets so competitive! Even more than it was in the twenties! Some crowds are laid back about it, but other crowds treat you like you’re going to get scored 1 to 10 on how feminine you are and your objective should be to hit a 12—and then other crowds still actually *will* score you. And oh, it’s a fantastic show to *watch*—but that’s not why I do it. And not how I want to do it.”

Sir Pentious

"Hmm. Yes, I think I agree with you there. I wouldn't want to be scored on something like that." He made a face-- not that Alastor could see. Telly leaned against the bed, chin resting on his arms.

"I do think it would be fun to watch, though-- maybe we can see if there's ones to watch here in Hell sometime!"

Alastor

“Oh, sure, there are drag shows and balls all the time! Competitive and otherwise. Just let me know what kind you want to see, and if I don’t know where one’s happening within a month I’ll know somebody else who does.”

Sir Pentious

"Perhaps sometime in the future, both our schedules are fairly full currently!" He chuckled.

"I never thought of drag as a performance before, but after the masquerade, I can see why some would want to put on a show! It seems fun..."

Alastor

“Maybe in a few years you’ll be the one getting on stage!” Running water sound~ He’s got to wash out and restyle his hair. In the sink, apparently. “When did you start doing drag? Surely the masquerade wasn’t your first time?”

Sir Pentious

He hummed again, giving a soft sigh.

"I wanted to, in life, but of course, Mother and Father would never allow it. They'd punish me if they saw me trying to try on any of my sister's gowns. And my elder sisters would tattle on me, too. So I stopped trying.

"But then, once I got to Hell, I realized that not only was it easier now, but also more practical, considering I don't even wear pants anymore. And there was no one around to tell me no! I had a few dresses commissioned-- they're still in my closet. But I only ever wore them in private. It was still the late 1800s and early 1900s at the time, after all, and I had a reputation to keep.

"I got more and more as time went on, and started wearing them casually whenever I didn't need to wear my suit. But still, I only wore them out a couple times before the ball. And I'd never worn one as extravagant as that costume!"

Alastor

Oh, he’s got to ask to see those older dresses sometime. “You certainly wore it well!”

The running water stopped as he got to work combing out and styling his wet hair. “And... what does it *mean* to you, when you do it?”

Sir Pentious

Telly fell silent, thinking on the question. He puzzled over it for a good bit before he answered.

"I'm not sure, really. I just like wearing them! But they're just clothes. I'm as comfortable in them as I am in my suit, or even nothing at all. I _do_ enjoy the way they swish around me, though."

Alastor

Alastor wasn’t sure what he was expecting—or even if he’d been expecting anything at all—but somehow the fact that it was that simple disappointed him. What *had* he wanted to hear?

He could wonder about that later. He kept his disappointment out of his voice as he asked, “So it’s just another fashion option, nothing more nor less?”

Sir Pentious

"Yes, I suppose. They make me happy, though, and that's what's important! Though, honestly, so do my novelty snake themed tee shirts!"

He hissed out a laugh.

Alastor

“I *am* a fan of those shirts!” And not just because he’d started stealing them to serve as his undershirts. What was he wearing now? He pulled out his collar to check. Ah! The bananaconda. One of his personal favorites. “I especially like the ones with puns! Some of them are... *hiss-terical.*”

Sir Pentious

Another, louder, and hissier laugh!!! "Oh yes! I adore them! They're so comfortable and give me a good guffaw!!"

Alastor

Okay, he was on the finishing touches. He slipped his shoes away from the door and back on, and... “Ta-daaa!”

Not a whole lot changed. He redid his hair, added eyeshadow (he was already wearing lipstick), removed his coat and bow tie, unbuttoned his top a little, and switched his pants for a skirt and his socks for stockings. Most of his time in the bathroom had been spent on rinsing out his hair, combing it into a slightly more feminine bob, and gelling it in place. It was, as he’d promised, very minimalist drag.

Sir Pentious

Oh, but the changes, no matter how small, added up to a lot in Telly's eyes-- which were currently blown wide like a cat seeing a new toy. He got up and slithered over, cupping Alastor's face in his claws.

And he just leaned in and kissed him.

Alastor

Alastor returned the kiss, then leaned back and winked. “You know, I *thought* you might say something like that.” He had a very convincing Southern Belle voice he used when fully dolled up.

Sir Pentious

Oh. _Oh._ That voice. That voice!! It did things to him. He grinned lifting Alastor off the ground, arms wrapped tight around his waist.

"Madame!!! You are lovely and charming, and I am filled with adoration!!"

Alastor

“Well, aren’t you just the most *flattering* gentleman!” Alastor pulled out a fan (the ray gun fan) to “cool off.” “You’re going to put me in a swoon, talking like that!”

Sir Pentious

"Of course! What gentleman _wouldn't_ be caught up by such a darling belle!"

Telly leaned in, kissing all over Alastor's face and neck. He simply couldn't get ENOUGH.

Alastor

*Oh—* Alastor returned as many kisses as he could, peppering them across Telly’s face and hood. When he finally started laughing, it was in his usual voice. “Amazing the difference a little eyeshadow and re-parting your hair can make, isn’t it?”

Sir Pentious

He needed a moment to come back to himself, his grin face splitting.

"Oh, yes! It's quite amazing!" And he's going to nuzzle right into the neck and start purring. He lives here now.

Alastor

Alastor will waive the rent if Telly keeps paying in purrs. It’s like a free neck massage. He laughs. “Do you like it that much?”

Sir Pentious

"Well, I think if it wasn't you, then I don't know. But it IS you and so, yes, I like it very much." He pressed kisses to Alastor's neck, still purring there against him.

"The accent is very cute, too."

Alastor

Alastor slung both arms around Telly’s shoulders to keep himself steady under the barrage of kisses. “Oh, the accent was a hit in New York, let me tell you! I never was decorated enough to turn heads, but if I could get someone in a conversation, I’d have a whole crowd hanging off of me in five minutes! It’s even better now that I can **play with my voice.**” Radio Demon, bass boosted.

Sir Pentious

Telly laughed at the bass boosting, his hood flaring out-- this time with delight! That's a new one, but a good one.

"Yes, I bet you can do all SORTS of things with your voice now, can't you?"

Alastor

Most people were freaked out by the sudden bass boost. The fact that Telly laughed gets a wide smile that crinkles the corners of Alastor’s eyes. “Truth be told, I mainly use it to discourage fights or sing a little better. Not *that* much better, mind. I’ve always been pretty good.”

Sir Pentious

"I _do_ like it when you sing, you should sing more!" He leaned in to pepper more kisses onto Alastor. Mostly on his neck. Smooch, smooch, smooch, and then....his mouth opened and he scraped his fangs against his skin. Time to be a tease.

Alastor

“Oh, *should* I!” Dangerous words around the Radio Demon A musical backing track started up...

And sputtered, and started and stopped again, as he was distracted by the teeth scraping. “... Gladly, when you’re not giving me something else to do with my mouth.” He tries to catch Telly’s mouth so he can get those teeth on his lips.

((And after this they get raunchy, so part 2 tomorrow))

[epochofbelief]

Breath Control: The Epilogue

An A Court of Mist and Fury College Swim Team AU

All characters belong to SJ Maas

Feysand and Elriel

Completed Masterlist Link!!! 

(a very short) EPILOGUE

~~~Elain~~~

“Go Feyre!!” I screamed from the stands. 

On deck, standing in the group of Prythian University swimmers next to the pool, I caught sight of Azriel cheering my sister on, as well. Feyre was actually doing really well tonight--she’d slid into the C Final of the 200 free this morning, and was now on track to move up several spots if she could keep up her pace. 

“Come on Feyre!” Every other spectator in the building was shouting around me. I’d never been to a conference championship before--I’d had a big exam the weekend of the swim meet last year. I’d stayed at Mortal U to study instead of traveling to watch Feyre. 

It was insanely loud inside the building, and I intended on adding my voice to the cacophony of cheers and shouts around me until Feyre touched the wall.

Twenty seconds later, my voice hoarse, I watched Feyre win her heat. That meant she’d gotten seventeenth in the most competitive conference in the country!! She’d scored points for the team! And the point totals looked like the girls’ team was on track to get top three overall, as well.

I shot her a text congratulating her, knowing I wouldn’t hear from her for a while, and settled in to watch the rest of the meet. 

A few hours later, after watching Prythian women be announced for winning second in the meet, and the men achieving third, I headed outside to wait for Feyre and Azriel. Azriel had B-finaled tonight, placing tenth in his event and going a best time. 

Feyre came out, surrounded by her friends, and I bolted for her. “Congratulations!!!” I shouted, throwing my arms around her shoulders. She hugged me back tightly. 

“Thanks Elain! I’m so glad you could come.” She dropped her voice, eyes shifting to glance at the coaches a few yards away, talking to a few swimmers and their parents. “Are you coming out with us?”

“You’re going out?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course! Last day of the meet, it’s been over two months since any of us have been allowed to drink. Dry season is officially over for those of us not qualified for nationals--it’s time to party.” 

I grinned at my sister’s excitement, overjoyed to see how happy she was, and knowing that part of her happiness was because of her success that night. 

I felt a presence behind me before Azriel’s arms encircled my waist, his muscular body pressing against mine. “Hey,” he said in my ear.

I turned. “Hey there. Congratulations! I’m so proud of you.” I kissed him briefly, fully aware of the large crowd of Prythian swimmers, parents and coaches around us--not to mention the groups from other teams also spilling out of the aquatic complex. 

“Thanks. Glad you could be there.” 

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” 

He lowered his voice. “You coming out?”

“Oh my God, is that all you swimmers can think of at a time like this?”

He gave me a look that said it was, in fact, all the swimmers could think of. Dry season--the time required by the team captains that all team members must refrain from drinking until the end of the season--had been wearing on everyone. Being a college student and unable to let loose from time to time was quite a challenge for most kids on the team. I knew Prythian’s dry season had started on New Year’s Day. So it had been a long while since Azriel had had a drink. 

“I’m coming,” I sighed, but secretly was very excited to go out with my friends again. 

He threw his arm across my shoulders and we started walking across the parking lot, leaving our group behind for the moment. 

“I love you,” he exhaled, grinning up at the starry night before he looked down at me nervously.

I stopped in my tracks, turning to face him. “I love you too.” 

And I didn’t give a damn about all the people surrounding us as I tugged his mouth down to mine and kissed him as though we were the only ones in that parking lot.

-------

~~~Feyre~~~

Rhys held my hand as we traipsed across the parking lot. I squeezed his fingers, trying to get a good look at his face. 

“I know you placed higher last year, but are you happy with how you swam this week?”

He nodded, keeping his eyes forward.

“Rhys. Your injury put you out for essentially two months and you still got ninth at Conference. And you dropped a second. You should be proud of yourself.” 

He let go of my hand as we split up to get into his car, me in the passenger seat, him in the driver’s.  

“You’re right. And I am happy. I’ve got one year left; I’ll have to make that count.”

I frowned. “You’re only saying that cause you know that’s what I want you to say--want you to feel.” 

He started the car, but left it in park as he turned his body to face mine. “No, I’m saying that because I don’t want my stupid disappointment to take away from how much of a badass you were tonight. And all week--you cut time in all three of your events. And you finaled. So, I think we need to forget about me coming up slightly short for reasons that were out of my control and focus on my amazing girlfriend instead.”

“Well when you put it that way,” I joked, even as his words made me smile.

“Yep. We definitely need to focus on my smart, beautiful, frustrating, badass girlfriend who also happens to be one of the most elite athletes I’ve ever known. And not just in the pool--if you know what I mean.” He winked.

I pushed his shoulder, gesturing for him to hurry up and drive away already. “Pig. Take me to a bar, please.” 

“Your wish is my command,” he said solemnly, placing his hand on my thigh as he headed straight for Rita’s.

I set my hand on top of his, staring out the window at the people still streaming out of the complex doors, at the cars fighting to get to Main Street, at the exceptionally bright stars hanging overhead. 

I’d done it. I’d picked myself up and found my passion for my sport again. 

I hadn’t gone a best time in any of my events for several years--not since I was a senior in high school. Being able to PR even though I was older and a little more burnt out made me feel like I was on top of the world.

And that was why I swam. I loved my teammates, and I was so lucky that swimming had brought me Cassian, Azriel, Amren, Mor, and Rhysand. But succeeding at something I’d been passionate about for years made me feel a way that nothing else could. The satisfaction of achieving the goals I’d set for myself years ago filled me with a glow that I had missed for a long while.

“Hey,” I said as Rhys parked a few blocks down from the bar. 

“Yeah?” 

“Thanks for not letting me give up all those months ago.”

“What are teammates for?” He asked, reminding me of the night he’d driven me far away from the horrid toxicity of that Halloween night. 

I leaned across the center console and pressed a kiss to his mouth.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what teammates are for, exactly, but I’d be stupid to argue against it,” he said, making me laugh before he captured my mouth with his again. 

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

THE END!!!

Thank you so SO much to everyone who has read this fic, from those of you who have been here for a while to those who are just now catching up to the end:) It was a joy to write and I can’t believe I followed through and finished it. 

Just FYI, I should be starting a new fic next week, called What To Expect When You’re (Not) Expecting. Check it out if you want some more Feysand;) 

THANKS EVERYONE LOVE YOU ALL BYEEEEE

Tags: 

@aknymph​ @queen-of-glass​ @sleeping-and-books​ @fabfire​

[vincess-princess]

What Is Lost, What Is Found

Chapter 4.

Word count: 3344 Trigger warnings: none

The next time Tommy came accompanied. Vince followed him into the store. The contrast between the two was so drastic no one could imagine them hanging out together. The blond surfing star in spotlessly white pants couldn’t belong near a ragged, long-haired disaster that Tommy was.

Vince headed directly towards Mick. Tommy lingered behind, avoiding his gaze. Mick gripped the edge of the counter so tight his knuckles went white. He wasn’t that nervous even during any job interview. He wasn’t that nervous with Tommy as well; talking to him was easy, in a way. He was open, childish and eager to please, always curious and ashamed of it, and so talkative Mick only had to sprinkle the conversation with “yes”s and “wow”s. Vince, on the other hand, was a tougher nut to crack. Mick had to be careful.

“Couldn’t imagine that I’d come back here,” Vince said, looked Mick right in the eyes and flashing a smile. “But I’m ready to do everything possible to listen to some good music. Everything, sir.” He smiled again. Mick didn’t like this smile. There was something daring in it.

“Today’s “everything possible” includes sorting out records, washing the floor and dusting the shelves. Whatever you choose.”

“Oh,” Vince let out a hearty laugh, “sir, I don’t wanna work. Can I get it for a smile? Or dancing, maybe? I’m a good dancer.”

Vince stepped forward and leaned onto the counter, his face unnervingly close to Mick’s.

“No, thanks. You can dance your heart out after you do some work,” Mick suggested. “Some real work, I mean.”

“What about singing, then? I’m a good singer as well. Tommy can confirm. Right, Tommy?”

Tommy’s been standing behind Vince and staring at the ground the whole time. He flinched, startled when hearing his name. When Mick looked at him, he started nervously messing with his hair.

“Right,” he said quietly.

Vince put his elbows on the counter and leaned over it. Now his and Mick’s faces were mere inches away. Mick could feel the faint smell of his cologne – something flowery. He wouldn’t expect any other slum kid to wear cologne, but Mick would be more surprised if Vince didn’t wear it. For him, it was just in character.

“Maybe I could offer you something else,” Vince whispered and bit his lip, and Mick couldn’t help but recoil. It finally downed on him what was going on.

They were checking him.

Mick backed down so fast he almost dropped his chair to the floor. A wave of anger mixed with disgust once again washed over him, leaving. Who taught the kid to behave like this? What perverted mind would ever teach him? And why? “Listen, kid, I’m not your lay in some nightclub-“

“Why not?” Vince interrupted him. He smiled again, but this time it wasn’t pretty. It was defying.

“How old are you, fifteen?” Mick said, looking above Vince’s shoulder - at Tommy. The boy was red as a lobster and tried to hide his face in his hair. “I’ll be gentle and say you’re not my type – like any other minor. Now, I’m by no means an altruist. I’m not offering free music to anyone - only in exchange for a job well done. If you don’t wanna work, why are you here?”

“Tommy sang you such praises I decided to check you out as well,” Vince replied. His defying smile disappeared, but Mick could see his shoulders relax. Somehow he knew that he passed the test, or whatever they had come up with. He really shouldn’t have felt that relieved. Stupid kids with their stupid games!

“And what do you think?” Mick asked. “Our first impressions of each other might be a little biased.”

“And what do you think of me, sir?” Vince tilted his head, smiling slyly.

Mick sighed. “You’re one sleazy motherfucker.”

Vince stared at him for a few seconds and then burst into laughter. Tommy finally raised his head, looking at Vince with confusion, as though asking, what’s so funny about it? Mick knew he would never tell that to Tommy – it would hurt him rather than amuse. Vince, however, was a completely different case.

“You have your ways,” Mick continued once Vince stopped laughing, “but I’m immune to them. If you wanna listen to some records, that pile over there needs sorting. If not, then get out of my store.”

“You’re not very polite to your future employees, aren’t you?”

“Records, boy. They are waiting for you.”

Vince smiled again, but this time Mick actually liked it. It wasn’t sly, it wasn’t defying, it wasn’t a mask Vince put on to hide his actual intentions. This time, it was excited – like a music-loving kid should be when faced with such a chance.

“Okay, okay, boss, I’m on my way already.”

Mick and Tommy looked at him until he disappeared behind a shelf. Then Mick caught Tommy’s eye and winked. Tommy smiled, at first unconfidently, swiftly switching it to a happy beaming, and winked back.

“Hey, boss,” Vince called Mick a few minutes later. He approached, only to see Vince sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded with stacks of vinyls, holding two records in his hands. “Kiss or New York Dolls”?

“Neither,” Mick shook his head. “What do you young people find in New York Dolls? They’re hardly bearable to hear.”

“Mick!” Tommy gasped behind him and dropped the mop. It landed on his feet with a loud smack. “How dare you!”

“Sir, you barely look twenty-five, you still qualify as a young person,” Vince grinned. The motherfucker knew how to compliment.

“I’m older than you think,” Mick only said. The boy’s words weren’t far from the truth. Mick wasn’t even that old, even though his body tried to prove him otherwise his entire life. His own twenty-five seemed even farther away than it actually was. “And don’t call me ‘sir’.”

“Mick, then?” Vince smiled. “That feels way more intimate, you know?”

Mick opened his mouth, looked into Vince’s innocent eyes, closed it, sighed and went back to the counter. “Put on your dolls, or what they’re called,” he said from there. “I don’t care.”

He heard Tommy fiercely whispering “Don’t put them on! Get some Jeff Beck, Mick likes him.” And then, in Vince’s typical Californian drawl, “But Jeff Beck is so-o out-of-date”. Tommy said something again, now unintelligibly. Mick heard some movement from behind the shelves. “Hey, that hurts!” Vince exclaimed.

Then Jeff Beck started playing.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“I told you kids, put on your dolls or kisses or whatever!” Mick shouted. Jeff Beck stopped playing. Some more movement and hissing behind the shelves, and then Vince’s blonde head showed up above them.

“Maybe we could make a compromise?” he said, in that sweet voice of his that eliminated any attempt to disagree with its owner. “There surely are bands we both enjoy. How about Sweet?”

“Pop music with a rock n’ roll pretension.”

“Judas Priest?”

“They’re all gay as hell out there.”

“Cheap Trick?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Aerosmith?”

“Which album?”

“Toys in the attic.”

Mick spent a second or two mulling over the suggestion. If he keeps rejecting, they won’t listen to any music at all. “Okay,” he said then.

“See?” Vince turned to Tommy. “That works!”

“Maybe,” Tommy still was unconvinced. His desire to please Mick was both complimenting and disturbing. “Mick, are you sure you’re okay with Aerosmith?”

“Don’t worry, kid. They’re alright. They drink too much, but who doesn’t?”

“You too?” Vince asked suddenly, no smile on his face anymore. Mick stared at him wordlessly, frantically trying to come up with a decent response to such an outright question.

“Who the do you think you are to ask things like that?” He finally said, anger building up in his chest. Not so much because of the impolite question as because he couldn’t honestly say “no” to this.

“I’m just wondering. You don’t need to get all up in arms,” Vince said sweetly. “So, do you?”

“None of your business”. Mick clenched the edge of the counter again. A simple, on the first sight, question left him panicking. He really shouldn’t be so worried about some kid’s opinion on him.

“So you do.”

“No!” – Mick exclaimed maybe a little bit louder than he intended. Vince, however, didn’t seem to notice. “I, um, used to. But I’ve quit. I’m clean now.” Blood rushed to Mick’s ears. Thank god they were covered by his hair, or Vince would suspect something. Who the hell did the boy consider himself to be to ask an adult, almost a stranger, things like these? And, what’s more, expect an honest answer?

“Oh, that’s nice to hear.” Vince laughed, his personality back to his flirtatious self. He tried to mask the relief in his voice, but failed miserably. For some reason, it was very important for the kid. “Sorry if I hurt your feelings. I was just curious. You look like a cool rock n’ roll guy, and I know a lot of them drink and do drugs.”

“Keep your curiosity to yourself,” Mick muttered. “And your flattery too.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue. The kid believed him, after all.

“As you wish,” smile disappeared from Vince’s face. Mick’s words must have been too harsh. And Mick totally wasn’t feeling guilty over making the kid shut up and mind his own business. Absolutely not.

“That’s not flattery, Mick!” Tommy opened his mouth for the first time in a while, pulling Mick out of his thoughts. Mick would never imagine Tommy could be that quiet for so long. “You do look like a cool rock star. I mean, your hair looks fabulous! And your attitude… if I met you on a street, I’d definitely think you’re in a band.”

“Vince, your flattery is contagious,” Mick couldn’t help but smile. That was the best compliment he had heard in a while. “I used to be in a band, some time ago. All of that is over, though.”

“See? I knew it!” Tommy exclaimed. “But why is it over?”

“It didn’t work out.” Mick hated to say that – it still hurt, and badly, - but the truth was more important than his feelings. Maybe if he warned the boy now, it later would be easier for him to accept that not all dreams come true. Maybe Tommy would thank Mick for it - later, when he is mature enough. “A lot of people want to be in a band, few of them actually find one, and even fewer make it big. We were one of the unlucky.”

“Did you try playing with other bands?” Vince chimed in. “Maybe you just haven’t found your band yet.”

“Do I look like a fucking idiot?” Vince’s condescending tone again awoke all the anger Mick suppressed in his chest today because of this little motherfucker. “I’ve changed tons of different bands. I played in probably every shitty bar in LA. I’ve been looking for the band since school. I slept on the floor and stole food from shops because my band couldn’t get enough money to rent a motel room. I did everything possible to make it big. And I still failed.”

Vince blinked in confusion, probably not expecting such a harsh reply, and said nothing. Mick didn’t want to hurt the boy, but the fact that he caught Vince, who could probably outspeak anyone, off-guard, made him feel some kind of pride.

“Oh, Mick,” Tommy sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Mick tried to keep his voice calm, but some of his irritation spilled into it. He didn’t want to be reminded of all those years lost pursuing the unreachable dream. When were they going to drop the topic at last? “That’s life. Nothing goes as you expect it to go.”

“Sorry for asking,” Vince finally spoke, quieter than usual. “It was very tactless of me.”

“It sure was,” Mick murmured. “But it’s alright. You didn’t know.”

“Good.” Vince returned to the stacks of records and began putting them on the shelves again. Tommy returned to wiping the floor. Everything seemed to calm down now.

Still, Mick was uneasy. Unanswered questions hung in the air, and Vince kept glancing at him. He had something on his mind.

“What instrument did you play?” Vince asked after a few minutes of silence. Here it was.

“The guitar.”

“Do you still play?”

“Sometimes,” Mick said. He tried to remember the last time he picked up the guitar. Definitely not this week, he returned home late and his neighbors wouldn’t be pleased by hearing an electric guitar play in the middle of the night. “I usually stay late in the store.”

“What do you do here for so long?” Vince asked. What a nosy little asshole, Mick thought with unexpected warmth. Such attention towards himself both flattered and unnerved him.

“Sort records, wash shelves, count money.” Mick sighed and leaned back on his chair. He felt like he was being questioned by the police, but with more attention. “A lot of stuff.”

“But doesn’t Tommy help you? Why do you have to do it yourself?”

“Because some, hm, friends of his are worried about his feisty ass.” Mick cut off. “Tommy, didn’t you tell them?”

“I, um…” Tommy stammered. It looked like someone was going to have a serious talk with his friends later. “I, well, told them that I come here sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” Mick underlined. “Once or twice a week. All because you and that boy Nikki don’t let him work a decent job.”

“Um,” was Mick hallucinating, or did Vince’s ears go red? “We were just worried for him.”

“I get it.” Mick interrupted him. “That’s why I allowed him to bring you too. I’d gladly let Tommy help me if not for your, as he said, paranoia.”

“But the situation is super weird at best, don’t you think so? You catch a shoplifter red-handed and instead of calling the police on him you offer him a job.”

“Yes, because I’m a person who has a possibility of making my own decisions. Listen, Vince, if you don’t like me, if you find my behavior weird, I get it. I almost called the cops on you, that was probably not the best way to make acquaintance. You came to check – that’s okay, I understand your concerns. I’m no pedophile or a pervert. The three of you obviously need money. So I offered Tommy some. In exchange for decent work, of course.”

Vince stood silent for a couple of moments, thinking. Then he nodded briefly. “Okay. Yes. Sorry. You know, I had, as you said, “concerns”. But I see I was mistaken.”

“Good we figured it out,” Mick cut him off and turned away, for some reason not wanting to look Vince in the eyes. Tommy, staying silent while listening to their conversation intently, turned away to resemble his work, but Mick could swear he sighed with relief. Everything they needed to say to each other had been said. Even Vince ran out of questions and went back to the records.

Mick really wanted to fish out a bottle of whiskey from under the counter and take a few sips, or, rather, gulps. But he had to keep up appearances. He just lied he wasn’t an alcoholic, it would be stupid to prove it otherwise right in front of Vince. Not that he cared much about Vince’s opinion on him. Not at all.

“Mick?” Tommy’s voice brought Mick back to reality.

“Huh?”

“Would you- could you- if we help you in the store so that you have time after your shift, could you bring your guitar and play something for us? I’d love to hear you play!”

Mick knew this was coming. The boys considered him a rock star, apparently, even though his groups’ gigs never got more than a hundred people in. For them, he was a part of the world they wanted to live in. A very secluded and unfriendly, but a part nevertheless.

“Tommy, I usually have customers to serve,” Mick reminded. He hated to admit that, but a small part of his brain was definitely up for it. They were probably the only ones willing to hear him play in a long time, and he missed it immensely.

“After the shift, then?” Tommy looked at him with his big brown eyes, and Mick knew he would submit to those puppy eyes earlier or later. “You said you stay late to do some work, maybe we could help you with that and give you some extra time?”

“’We?’ What, Vince, are you coming back?”

“Why not?” Vince said with a friendly smile. “I’d love to hear you play too. Maybe we can even persuade Nikki to come. He wants to learn guitar.”

“Wow, even Nikki will be interested? I feel so popular,” Mick laughed. Their attention did flatter him, no matter what his feelings about the problem were. “Okay, maybe some time in the future. Oh, if I’m not mistaken, Vince, you sing? You could sing something with me playing.”

Tommy dropped the rag and made a choked sound, but Vince didn’t pay attention. Once Mic mentioned his singing, he as though froze on place, his whole body tense.

It was a low move, and Mick knew it, but today’s cross-examination of him made him a little bit irritated. Or maybe not a little bit. Rather, a lot.

“Erm, I-“ Vince began, then turned to Tommy. “I’m going to cut your tongue out someday,” he promised gravely. “Sorry, Mick. I don’t sing anymore.”

“Why not? If I can come back to playing the guitar for you, you could come back to singing. Maybe, if you work here for a while, you’ll be able to afford a drum kit for Tommy. Almost a band!”

“No,” Vince shook his head. “You don’t understand. I don’t sing anymore.”

“Can I ask why?”

“It brings back bad memories,” Vince cut him off. Something in his voice was making Mick not want to continue the conversation. Something hidden and grotesque.

“Well, playing guitar sure brings back my memories about roaches in all the flats I rented. But I’m not refusing to play because of that. Anyway,” he concluded, feeling he’d already said enough, “it’s a shame that you can’t sing for us, but you do you.”

“Thanks for understanding.” Vince nodded shortly and returned back to the stack. Tommy looked at both of them, moving his gaze back and forth, frowning in confusion. He felt the tension in the air, but couldn’t figure out its reason. What a naïve little boy he still was.

Vince, on the other hand, was very far from being naïve. He might have looked sixteen, but talked like he was thirty. It bothered Mick. Kids mature faster when there are a lot of hardships. And the boy sure had his share of them in his life. Tommy’s optimism and liveliness saved him from that; Vince wasn’t so lucky.

Mick could only wonder what made him like that. And he was pretty sure it was connected with the fact that he didn’t sing anymore.

He wanted to ask more questions. He itched to know what happened, and how he could help. But he knew Vince wouldn’t say a word unless he trusted him completely, and that wasn’t going to happen any time in the foreseeable future. He was a tough nut to crack.

Toys in the attic finished playing. Mick got up and went to change the record. “So, what are we gonna play next?”

“What do you want to play?” Vince said.

“Kiss!” Tommy suggested, beaming.

“Vince?”

“But you said you don’t like Kiss.” Vince frowned. “It’s your store, after all.”

“Yes, but I let you two choose now. Convince me that your Kiss are worth listening to.”

“Okay,” Vince said and turned around to dig into a pile of records, and Mick could swear he saw a little smile on his face.

Honestly, he was ready to listen through Kiss’ entire discography for that smile.

[thunder-the-ranger-wolf]

Training Days

@ibelieveinahappilyeverafter​ here’s the story I said I would write. It’s not what I thought it would be but I hope you like it regardless!

Shouta had trained plenty of kids. Had to, since he’d been teaching for… Goodness, had it really been almost a decade? Between having them in his homeroom and working with special cases on the side, he’d say he was an andequate mentor. He’s personally coached the occasional kid who was having a bit too much trouble with their Quirk. Midoriya was hardly the first case, though he was the most unique that Shouta had encountered by far. His class was full of them. It’s literally why he was the one teaching them. Shinsou Hitoshi was nowhere near the first kid he’s done one-on-one training with.

So why is this case different?

He asks Hizashi what he thinks after a particularly difficult session. Shinsou is very much not getting the point of having a repertoire of moves when he can simply order someone to do what he wants. Shouta found out the hard way that he wasn’t immune to the boy’s Quirk, and it had taken a few days to wrap his head around the fact that his mind was no longer his own for about three minutes.

That’s not to say he was scared of the kid or disgusted, like the boy’s peers seemed to be. No, it would be interesting to work with Shinsou if the kid could just get with the program-.

“You’re trying to train him like you did.”

The words that dropped out of Hizashi’s mouth were quiet, yet they slammed into Shouta with all the force of a bullet train.

“What?”

Hizashi flinched at the flat icy tone that his voice took and a small part of him thought Good. He should know better.

He shook that away. It did no good to dwell on the past, but he couldn’t fault anyone else for bringing it up. Especially not Hizashi, who had been there and likely still wasn’t over it.

Granted, Shouta knew that he himself would never be over what happened during his second year.

“It’s… I don’t know, Sho. It’s like you’re trying to push him the way you pushed yourself. Like we’re back in Gen-Ed and the Sports Festival was our only chance.”

“It is his only chance.”

“There’s a difference!” Hizashi snapped out. “He’s not you. You can’t train him to focus on the things that you did because he won’t respond the same. It’s not the same situation at all.”

“It’s the exact same situation. UA hasn’t changed.”

“Okay, but this is a different kid. He’s not dealing with the same things, he doesn’t have the same emotions or coping mechanisms or even the same problems that you did. The chance to get into the Hero Course is the same, but that’s all that is.”

“So… what now?”

“You have to teach him like you would any of your Hero students. Run him through an obstacle course or two. His abilities can’t end with his Quirk, and he doesn’t seem to know that. Show him why you’re in charge of 1-A. Run him the way you run them and make him prove he has what it takes to keep up.”

“I thought you said I shouldn’t train him the way I trained.”

“You’re not. He has the motivation, but he doesn’t fully get what makes a Hero Course student. Teach him that, and he’ll be ready for the Sports Festival.”

 Shouta chewed over what his friend said for the rest of the week, and when the weekly training session came back around, he had something of a game plan.”

“I’ve been going about this wrong.” He admitted to his student. “You’re not the first student I’ve mentored one-on-one, but you are the first transfer student. It, uh… hit harder than I thought it would. But you’re not me, and I don’t need you trying to be. So here’s what we’re going to do.”

Shinsou was positively livid as he received the new training plan. He would race through the obstacle course day after day, and each training session, something new would be added.

“You can stop someone in their tracks and make them do what you want, but I guarantee you, that will only keep you safe for so long. You have to know how to back up what you make them do.”

Hitoshi was no slouch. He ran the obstacle course, even if it took him a while to get used to the boulders trying to drag him down or he slipped from sets of rings that clearly belonged to a gymnastics class.

Someone was set to monitor him every day because even the Hero students couldn’t use their obstacle courses without a chaperone or two. If it wasn’t Shouta, it was Hizashi or Nemuri or Kan. Yagi stopped by once, to use some of the equipment for himself, and was willing to watch the boy run the course and even gave pointers.

This went on for ten days, and Shouta was the one to show up for the last few days.

“What, not going to pawn me off on another teacher?” Hitoshi scowled.

“Observing your surroundings should be next on the list.” Came the familiar-by-now voice of Present Mic as if through a speaker. “Up here, Little Listener!”

The man sounded like he was laughing and it made Hitoshi tense up. The look on his face was telling enough, and Shouta figured that it’d be funny to see if Hizashi let the kid get a few hits in.

“He’s a kid, Mic, he’ll grow into it.”

“Right!” Present Mic crowed with a sarcastic edge to his words as he leaned over the railing of the platform above them. “Because you did that so damn well.”

“It’s like you said, he’s not me.” Shouta called up, annoyed. What was Hizashi playing at? “He’ll get it.”

“Sure, sure. Just wondering how much time he has. There are only two more Festivals.”

“And plenty of chances between them.” Shouta snapped. He wanted to wring the other man’s neck but Hizashi was too high up. If his goal was to annoy Shouta, he was doing well enough.

Shouta turned to his student.

“I need to not strangle that bastard and you’ve surpassed my expectations so far. Feel like getting some food?”

Hitoshi agreed eagerly enough and they were off.

The cafe they went to wasn’t originally a Cat Cafe. A few train stops away, Shouta would always remember it as the hole-in-the-wall where he got his morning caffeine fix. And they always seemed to remember him.

“Hey, Aizawa-kun! I was hoping you’d stop by today! You know Rakki had her kittens last week?”

“Did she? How’d it go?”

“There are five. I don’t know how we’re going to manage this litter.”

“I keep saying you can always give one to me. Mochi loves company and loves kittens even more.”

“With all your busy-work I wonder who would handle them more, you or your cat!” The owner snickered.

A nice older man with a wife and two grown children, Shokora Akebi had run this shop since he was a child. The cats were a recent addition. His oldest ran a rescue shelter elsewhere in the city and these were a few of the pets who never found a home. They had attachment issues, so Shokora extended the shop. He did his best to ensure the space and the people in it were safe, and his youngest was qualified to run the cat portion of the cafe in much the same way his oldest ran the shelter.

Shouta explained all of this to a wide-eyed Hitoshi as one of the cats plonked himself into his lap and stretched.

“Looks like Tora is feeling friendly.” A nearby patron snorted, amused, as the orange mackerel tabby arched his back and rubbed against Hitoshi’s shirt.

A gasp hushed the shop as something nudged Shouta’s ankle. The Hero looked down to find that a tortoiseshell held a kitten in her mouth, tail lashing. Shouta looked behind him to make sure nothing blocked his way before pushing his chair back and allowing the mother cat to nestle on his lap. The kitten mewled for all of two seconds before it burrowed in his mother’s fur. Rakki pawed at Shouta’s shirt sleepily before curling up around her kitten.

“Well, we’re stuck here for at least an hour.” Shouta snorted, amused.

“They’re so cute…” Hitoshi mumbled, eyes wide.

“Yours is gnawing at your hand.” Shouta informed him.

The kid didn't seem to mind, too enamored with the fact that it had curled up in his lap without a care in the world.

Shouta snorted at that. Rakki pawed at his capture weapon and he wound a bit around his wrist for her to bat at. The kitten squirmed as she flipped onto her back and stretched out for the strip of cloth.

"Ah, she's feeling playful!"

“She’s lucky this is a practice cloth.” Shouta yawned. “I can afford to replace these and she wouldn’t hurt herself trying to get at them.”

They didn’t stay long at the cafe and their drinks were prepped to go.

“What are we doing next?” Hitoshi wondered.

“I’ve got a few training ideas I want to implement, but I think you’ve earned the rest of the day off. I’m dropping you off at UA and you’re free from there as long as you don’t get in trouble.”

Hitoshi seemed disappointed at the prospect of being on his own and if Shouta was honest with himself, he wasn’t quite ready to let the boy go off on his own. Not yet, at least. But he needed to confront Hizashi about just what the hell that performance of his was supposed to be. Why have the kid run the obstacle course if Shouta was the one monitoring his progress and Hizashi was just playing puppet-master? What did the Voice Hero plan that he wasn’t telling? If it was just to get a look at how he was teaching Hitoshi, he would have said. But there was something else. Something missing.

“Sensei?” Hitoshi prompted.

Aizawa blinked, realizing that he’d been lost in thought as the train they took passed the last stop before UA. It was time to get off. He nodded to the kid to show he was aware and they exited the train and eventually the station. UA wasn’t far, but it was getting dark so Shouta instructed his student to stay close and call for him if they got separated. Scream, actually. He insisted. This wasn’t his first time out with a student and he told every kid the same thing. Shouta was just more agitated for some reason. Hizashi had thrown him off-kilter in a way he wasn’t sure about.

“Are you and Mic-sensei having a fight?” Hitoshi wondered aloud.

If there was anything in his mouth, Shouta would have choked on it in his utter surprise. As it was, he stopped and turned to address the kid.

“What makes you think that?”

“He’s been weird. Outside of class, I mean. I actually see him pretty often, I’m learning sign-language with some of the Gen Ed kids. We formed a club.”

Hizashi would happily run a club like that and was likely over the moon to be asked about something that was important for him specifically.

“How long would you say he’s been weird?”

“What, do you not pay attention?” Hitoshi scoffed.

“I have my estimate. What’s yours?”

“Almost a month.”

That was a good guess. There were several anniversaries that made Hizashi fidget. He could also be strange when reminded of something from the past, whether Shouta knew of the event or not, he was usually able to pick up on this. The Sports Festival coupled with watching Shouta train Hitoshi must have felt like repeatedly getting punched in the face. Shouta had originally chalked it up to USJ, but that was a brand new trauma, all fresh and shiny and likely complete with nightmares.

“What’s your reasoning?” Shouta wondered.

So Hitoshi explained how the teacher came in early and stayed late, which was the norm for them, but he never seemed to slow down. In fact, he seemed to speed up with each passing day, as if the mere thought of slowing down would stop everything in its tracks.

“I’ve seen people do that. My dad used to do that before he got the new job that moved us here. But the thing about Dad was… he had to slow down or he’d crash. He did crash. And he took Mom and me with him. We moved because the job was running him into the ground, but he didn’t know how to stop. So Mom made him.”

“And you think Mic will eventually crash.”

“If he hasn’t already.”

“Good eyes, kid. You’re not wrong.”

“But I missed something.”

“Just context. You’re right that he’s got more to deal with at work, and there are a few events in his personal life to add to that.”

Shouta refuses to think that Hitoshi’s training is one of them. Hizashi wouldn’t ask him to stop training the kid, and might honestly hate him if he caught on and the training ended. But something had to change and Shouta wasn’t sure what.

“I hope he gets better at slowing down,” Hitoshi mumbled. “Do you think he’d like to see the Sign Language Club more?”

“It’s worth a shot. You can’t solve all his problems, but he might be grateful for the outlets he already has.”

“I’ll call an emergency meeting, then. At the very least, he can do something he likes while figuring out whatever this is.”

“Empathy, observation, and creativity. Hone those and you have the makings of a fine Hero.”

“Thanks!” Hitoshi beamed. “Y’know, I think if Mic ran the obstacle course with one of us, he’d feel better.”

“We’ll see.” Shouta mused. “Let’s not push him.”

The rest of the walk was quiet, at least between them. Shouta had some ideas on how to move forward and Hitoshi was slightly more enthusiastic about the prospect of training with Mic. Whatever problems came up next, they could be solved.

[applequiet2-blog]

Just How Do Pet Cats Know What Time It Is?

Content

Animal Resting.

Top 5 Boarding Options For Your Family Pet.

Think About A Cat Sitter.

Invite To The Cats Hotel.

With A Series Of Holiday Accommodation We Can Cater For Individual Cats, Or Tiny Families.

C Urious To Know What Several Of Our Homesitters Got Up To Throughout Lock

Deal With With Treatment.

You have the ability to book a suite in the Cattery as much as one year beforehand, so if you do have a hint that you will certainly be disappearing and require this solution, it is constantly excellent to contact as soon as possible. They are made from white fibreglass, as well as have deep comfortable beds. With our expertise and experience we supply excellent care for your enjoyed ones. You will certainly have the satisfaction you should have when leaving your priceless relative with us.

He might be better in a Cat Hotel where there are other felines around him. Like people, pet cats have their individualities as well as are not just the same! For that reason, it is very important to think about the demands of your cat when determining whether a Cat Hotel or a Cat Caretaker is the most effective choice for your cat. A Cat Hotel or a Cattery is a boarding facility that you take your cat to when you are far from residence. It's normally purpose-built and also homes numerous felines in specific cages or rooms.

Invite to the honor winning, 5 celebrity ranked "Ings Deluxe Cat Hotel". Our focus is to offer our visitors the 5 star service they deserve, we promise an absolutely soothing, promoting and enjoyable stay. Our totally air conditioned hotel will certainly guarantee your cat will really feel comfy all year round. Based in Brentwood, Essex, as well as with very easy access to London and the M25 and M11 freeways, we are easily situated to look after felines from throughout South of England.

When you have to go away, your feline member of the family can stick with our family, in a warm, safe and secure, home-like setting, where we will look after them like our very own. Anita is a recognized, veterinarian referred cat behaviourist based in Notting Hillside as well as a full member of The Canine and also Feline Behavior Organization. She is additionally a master cat groomer, being experts in dealing with timid or aggressive cats.

Meet Tilly who took a trip from there in 2014 when her besotted proprietors emigrated to the North East. I was taking care of her while they were loading their belongings once more and also as well as moving to York. They added the "first 50 visitors will certainly each receive a Longcroft reward bag". Currently, the feline-friendly center will be officially opened on Sunday, September 20, by MP for Romsey and Southampton North, Caroline Nokes.

I keep track of the day-to-day feeding, toileting and also behavior practices of every cat to ensure that they are happy and healthy. It is very important that a cat doesn't go also long without water as it can create serious kidney damage. Must there be any type of health and wellness problems, my vet is available 24/7 ought to your own be also far away. Family pet Remedy is scientifically verified to calm as well as de-stress animals normally, this mild aroma fills up the area.

To aid us with our new ways of working and also to maintain all of us safe, please do not participate in the method unless you have actually called us first as well as have a pre-booked consultation. Required cookies are definitely crucial for the site to work correctly. This group only includes cookies that makes sure fundamental functionalities as well as protection features of the site. This internet site makes use of cookies to enhance your experience while you browse with the web site. Out of these cookies, the cookies that are classified as needed are kept on your web browser as they are vital for the working of standard functionalities of the web site.

To book your cat in to our hotel, please call the method on. Our cattery offers a large area including Horley, Crawley, Reigate, Horsham, Redhill, East Grinstead and all the surrounding areas. We're easily situated just 10 minutes from the M25 in Horley, and just 3 miles from Gatwick Airport terminal, which means you can say goodbye to your moggie then head of on your journeys understanding he'll remain in purrfectly safe hands.

In the area you might pay an everyday price of up to ₤ 17 for one cat, ₤ 24 for two felines, and also ₤ 31 for 3 pet cats. A Cat Hotel will certainly vary in rate depending upon the standard of solution and also the facilities/care that your cat will obtain.

Pet Dog Resting.

She holds an extraordinary honour level in Feline Behavior & Psychology and deals with her partner, a successful songs manufacturer and also two Norwegian Forest felines. Anita creates routine functions for Your Cat as well as The Cats Defense and also gets on the specialists panel of Your Cat publication.

Most Cat Hotels have restrictions around drop off and collection times, implying you require to plan when you drop off your cat around your journey times. It is necessary to weigh up the benefits and drawbacks of each service and also see which finest satisfies the demands of your cat.

Our company believe our centers offer an absolutely distinct and also unique experience in regards to high-end and also activities. Our promise is to take care of every guest as if they were our very own, keeping it personal with our sensational collections, underfloor warmed indoor designer collections with ensuite outdoor centers. We guarantee to give the greatest service as well as facilities readily available.

We likewise use third-party cookies that aid us examine as well as understand just how you utilize this site. These cookies will be stored in your internet browser just with your authorization. But pulling out of some of these cookies may have an effect on your surfing experience.

Leading 5 Boarding Options For Your Pet Dog.

We have 9 roomy cat rooms on the first floor of the Longwater Lane surgical procedure in Costessey. The area is light and ventilated with the added benefit of cooling. This suggests that no matter the weather condition, your cat will be comfortable and also warm in winter season as well as cool in summertime.

Our qualified vet team will after that go over with you any kind of problems you might have or particular requirements of your cat, and also can show you your cat's house throughout their stay with us. Figure out the similarity each individual cat as well as take loving care of your feline good friends. Every cat is various-- the snuggly British Shorthair tomcat loves being cuddled, while Maggy, the curious ragdoll, discovers the laser tip game fantastic fun. Care for the felines, feed them and play with them up until their owners pertain to choose them up once more.

For check out that doesn't such as to travel we provide a one to one service where we visit your cat once or twice daily in your home. In addition to revitalizing the trash and also feeding and watering your cat/s, we likewise spend high quality time with them. Playing, brushing as well as rubbing your cat according to your instructions and their demands.

Think About A Cat Sitter.

Providers differ each or business, but you can generally anticipate a pet dog caretaker or cat resting solution to find to your house a minimum of twice a day to feed your cat, play with them and also clean their clutter tray.

As well as keeping an eye on your cat, they will likewise water any type of houseplants and maintain your house looking "lived-in" to prevent thiefs.

The next best option to getting a friend or family member to care for your cat is to discover an expert residence sitter that'll stay in your home while you're away to care for your cat in their usual day-to-day setting.

Whichever solution or person you select, provide your pet dog caretaker as well as your cat the possibility to fulfill one another prior to you leave them in each various other's care.

You may wish to try an expert animal sitter or cat sitting solution, as an example.

Some older cats that have never been to a cattery might take a bit longer and we do our ideal to help them settle in, however time to change is what is really required below.

Kittens as well as younger felines are normally very quick to adjust to the setting here.

This suggests each cat has to have a legitimate injection certificate signed by a veterinarian and also vaccinations need to have been carried out within the last 12months. Admission to the cattery should be no behind 4pm on the day of arrival.

Interaction is a top priority as well as you will be sent routine photo/text updates. That isn't to say that all felines would certainly feel lonesome, some felines are independent and also territorial, they are used to coming as well as going easily. In this instance, a cat sitter could be the preferred alternative, particularly if your cat has made his visibility known in the neighborhood. Momentarily getting rid of a cat of this nature, from his habitat, can disturb the equilibrium in between the neighborhood felines.

Her images and also video updates were great as well as she clearly genuinely enjoyed her brows through and so did our felines. It is so wonderful to recognize they are well looked after in our absence. If you have greater than three pet cats, please contact us for a quote.

If you're flying off on vacation or service, our place places us in very easy reach of the London flight terminals. We simply wished to say a massive thanks for caring for Tilly the last couple of weeks! So delighted to have discovered such a friendly accommodating service to take care of my cat.The on line portal is outstanding as well as when needing to speak with the owner, she will certainly constantly try to assist. My cat sitter is very expert friendly and also calming and will certainly send images of the happy moggie on her visits. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cattery wished to say thank you to Sharon for taking care of Coco and Simba so well recently.

The cat rooms were designed by a veterinarian at the experiment his cat in mind, and then constructed to our bespoke specification by an expert company. Rescue, take care of as well as take care of the animals of America in this pet video game. With the flexibility to stroll in a comfy environment and a caring shoulder to Meow on, day or evening your feline will quickly be purring with happiness. For your benefit we are additionally providing collections and also drop-off service. While you're away rest assured your precious pet will be having as nice a time as you.

Gourmet menus and also brushing services, partners whose single work it is to come in and delight citizens and lodging of special demands. This precise focus to detail is what defines a remain at Longcroft. From kittycats to elderly, pedigree or rescue, unique diets, medicine or nurturing anxious visitors - we always go the extra mile to make our guests feel comfortable. I made use of The Cat Butler having actually used an additional company for 10 years. From the beginning I discovered Sandra, the owner as well as Rhian, who looked after our cat, extremely handy as well as educated as well as nothing was excessive difficulty.

Invite To The Cats Hotel.

After that connect with us today to talk to a participant of our cattery team. All male felines over the age of 6 months should be castrated; this is to lower tension degrees among other boarding felines. Otherwise lately dealt with, appropriate medication will be provided and also treatment will certainly be offered at your expenditure.

With A Range Of Lodging We Can Cater For Private Pet Cats, Or Small Families.

Those advertisements you do see are predominantly from local companies advertising regional services. We are functioning safely and also will remain to supply take care of your family pets during the COVID-19 pandemic.

We treat our pet dogs as family members, which's exactly how we'll treat your own, too. Our indoor, fully heated areas are a few of the largest in the nation and also fulfill the highest well-being requirements. Your felines will certainly enjoy our huge home windows with a sight, climbing up trees, playthings, and also outside balconies. They are based in the ideal and also peaceful area of Sway in the New Forest, where birdsong loads the air and the landscapes is superb. With pet cats provided the choice of a fine eating menu and also a view via purpose-built glass doors and windows, Hotel Cat seems like the purr-fect holiday.

In the unlikely occasion of any type of severe troubles occurring then the responsibility veterinarian will constantly get on hand 24/7. If need be, unwell pet cats can be transferred to be hospitalised at our major centre at Taverham. Prior to their stay with us, your cat is checked over and also inoculation status is examined by a veterinarian for free to make certain they are fit and healthy.

Copyright © 2020 HOTEL CAT|Deluxe cattery Hampshire|Luxury Cat Hotel. Beautiful, well considered facility, with a cat tree and also a separate, warm bed location. My two fur infants Marcus as well as Charlie were well cared for by Ali. The service is reasonably priced and we would absolutely suggest leaving family pet dogs here.

Boarding Cattery Solutions

The Lodge High-end Cat Hotel, located on the borders of the country Lincolnshire town of Boston, is run by cat lovers, for cat lovers. Developed with comfort and also indulging in mind, The Lodge is dedicated to offering your cat the high-end it should have while you are away. The Lodge Luxury Cat Hotel is a Cattery located on the borders of the rural Lincolnshire community of Boston, is run by cat enthusiasts, for cat lovers. Feel free to search our internet site for even more details on our high-end Cattery.

I have tried various other brand names for many years however this has always had the best action from my own pet cats. Extremely suggest Clyde Valley Cat Hotel for anybody who desires their pet cats to have a home far from residence and get great deals of TLC. Lovely store cattery located in the breathtaking Clyde Valley, Lanarkshire. " Every guest who stays at Longcroft Romsey will certainly be treated as an individual and also we will hang out making sure their remain with us is as comfortable as feasible." Several of the other facilities the at the hotel consist of a gourmet menu, where pets can be pampered with salmon, poultry as well as shellfishes, along with grooming services as well as day-to-day play sessions.

Here are my top six choices of the very best cat hotels from around the globe. All felines should be totally vaccinated versus cat influenza as well as feline enteritis before admission.

We are happy to be able to provide a Cat Hotel as component of our Vet Healthcare Facility in Caterham. We have superb centers for your feline buddy which will guarantee that they have a relaxing break whilst you are away.

In between each collection are rounded windows on the wall that can be open up to produce an interconnecting suite for multi-cat family members. Mountain climbers, multi-level platforms as well as other enjoyable hidey-holes ensure every cat proprietor is obtaining the most effective feasible look after their much-loved mog.

Whether you are taking place holiday, relocating house or taking a break we can provide extravagant accommodation, a great dining menu alternative and a lot of love and interest for your cat. With a selection of the 'Luxury Hotel', the amazing 'Lodge' and also our incredible 'Tower' collections we have selections to satisfy all preferences and also needs.

" We have a special love for our fuzzy feline pals and can't wait to start conference and also learning more about our visitors. Dealing with a cat to an evening at the hotel's huge suite will set you back ₤ 18 per evening or ₤ 27 for 2. Longcroft Deluxe Cat Hotel Team now has 23 cat hotels in the UK, with the most recent addition being opened in New Barn Farm House, Discomforts Hillside, Lockerley. A NEW first-class cat hotel is set to have its grand opening in a village near Romsey. We are a family members of cat lovers with a lifetimes' experience of caring for pet cats.

I would certainly rate them 10 out of 10 and also would certainly not hesitate to suggest them to any individual. I would certainly advise the Cat Butler to any individual, including those with more difficult family pets to handle. They comprehend just what's needed and also are reassuring to pets as well as their owners. For a tiny additional charge, we will certainly also care for other household pets, such as birds, hamsters, rabbits, etc . Then he will possibly be much happier staying at home and also having a Cat Caretaker visit when you disappear than being boarded in a Cat Hotel.

[yutaya]

In honor of Veterans’ Day here is a TUA post about a Vietnam AU

I remember the first time I read a fic where Five killed Dave and I was like “hey quick question WHAT THE FUCK.” Then I saw it again. And again. There are loads of fics out there where Five kills Dave. Sometimes it’s just another mission from the Commission and he doesn’t even realize until later. Sometimes he observes for a while, knows that killing Dave will break Klaus’s heart but figures it’s necessary and feels super bad but does it anyway.

Friends, I invite you to consider:

The Commission’s messages, we have seen, are brief. They have a history of supplying no background information and leaving the details to their agents to figure out. Time to identify, locate, and wait for the right moment to fulfill the mission, in a non-timeline-threatening manner seems to be standard - although they do also seem to be expected to perform quite quickly as well. (”Just the one night” “Job delay”) As an agent, Five likely arrives in the proper time period, checks in to a predetermined spot, collects any commission-provided gear and info, and then heads out to find his target. It’s not like he gets zapped to a spot, immediately kills whoever he lands in front of, and moves on.

In a city, strangers on the street are not suspicious. A businessman flirting with a donut shop owner is not strange. A woman heading towards a tow-truck shop, even late at night, is fairly unremarkable.

In Vietnam, Five is too old to be just another soldier, too white to be easily dismissed as a civilian. The boys might shrug him off as a higher up of some sort. Five is clever, after all, good at utilizing what he has, plus probably had some sort of period-blending training in remaining unremarkable wherever and whenever he may go. Maybe any typical 60s American soldier would not bat an eye at some unfamiliar face in the background.

Here is the thing: Klaus Hargreeves is not a typical 60s American soldier. Klaus Hargreeves is from the future. The truths of his life include facts that the boys around him would think impossible. More importantly, Klaus has personal experience with Commission agents. Any person in the background might be a random occupant of this time period. They might be a ghost. They might be a time-travelling assassin. Those exist. He’s spoken to their victims. Odds are high for background faces to belong there, but the other possibility will always exist.

The old man existing innocuously in the background is a new presence. He is idly flicking his eyes over the faces of the people around him. He has a briefcase. The commission's biggest advantage is that people do not know they exist. They do not know there is anything to be wary of. If there were someone who did know about them, well. All things considered, it isn’t hard for Klaus to clock the guy as an agent.

Once Klaus has recognized a time-travelling assassin in his midst, he might consider the “whys” of his appearance.

- The most likely scenario: he is here for Klaus. Klaus, after all, does not belong here. Moreover, Klaus is currently something of an active escapee from time-travelling assassins, who weren’t finished interrogating him, killing him, nor hunting down his brother, last he checked, not to mention probably pissed that the cops got on their tail. It makes too much sense, unfortunately, that they would want to hunt him down.

- The less probable possibility: he is here for someone else. One of the citizens of the nearest town, perhaps, or one of the officers, or a fellow soldier, or perhaps one of Klaus’s unit. One of Klaus’s friends. Maybe it is pure coincidence that Klaus is uniquely qualified to notice that the man in the background is someone who might be about to kill somebody. 

Maybe he will smother his victim with a pillow. Maybe he will torture them first, cut off both their hands and laugh about it. Maybe he will run them over with a vehicle, then back up over their body so he can run them over again. Forward, reverse.

Fuck. That.

Maybe Klaus confronts the agent on his own. Commission agents are trained murderers and Klaus can literally be killed in one hit by a furry at a rave, but maybe this future business is something he wants to protect his people from, and hey, the advantage of surprise has to count for something, right?

Maybe Klaus is smarter than that. Maybe he has spent the past half a year learning the value of a band of brothers, learning trust and friendship and love. Maybe he pulls Dave aside, tells him that the old man over there is an enemy, and Dave requires no evidence to believe him. Maybe they go to their team, to their sergeant and their captain.

Either way, a confrontation happens. Likely there is a least a brief skirmish. Commission agents are on missions to preserve the timeline, which can be very limiting in terms of acceptable collateral damage - probably Team Klaus’s saving grace. The old man, although Klaus does not know this, is a legend in the time-travelling assassin circles. He could have killed everyone in the surrounding vicinity in seconds, if he so desired. What really saves Klaus and anyone else who might have been marked to die on a little slip of paper, however, is that the old man sees Klaus’s face. If there is any imminent danger he avoids it; his survival instinct has been honed by decades of desperation - but other than that, he sees Klaus’s face, and he stops. Stares. Anyone else might say it looks like he’s seen a ghost. Klaus sees ghosts all the time, so he would say the guy looks stricken. Shocked and desperate and hopeful and despairing, all at the same time. Actually, now that Klaus is seeing him up close, there’s something familiar about this guy...

They’re not fighting. Klaus isn’t stupid, he knows he’s at a disadvantage when fighting, so if he can have a conversation with the assassin instead, that is absolutely what he is going to do. He tips his hand - might as well, if the agent is here for Klaus then he already knows Klaus knows there are time-travelling assassins, and if he is here for someone else, someone knowing will probably prompt a retreat and regroup. Starts asking about the agent’s mission, who he’s here for, maybe informs the guy that he won’t be taking anyone from here. Klaus has a gun trained on the guy; he has the advantage.

(Five lets people think they can point a gun and have him - he knows he can jump away at any time.)

Klaus talks, and he makes himself less a coincidental look-alike, less possibly-a-hallucination, and more actually, impossibly, Klaus. Adult Klaus, Klaus as Five last saw him, but alive, alive, moving and talking, not a broken corpse - 

Something gives. Five says something, does something - and Klaus, who knows about time-travel, who knows that his brother, the time-traveler, lived to be an old man before winding up back in his child body in 2019, who knows that this mysterious organization of time-travelling assassins was looking specifically for Number Five - Klaus realizes exactly who’s in front of him, and he lowers his gun, because - Five! That’s different! He can trust Five.

(If there are any fellow soldiers who were part of this confrontation, they are appalled. They hiss at him, “Hargreeves, what are you doing?!” It only makes the impossible hope in Five’s chest flare brighter.)

“Five!” Klaus exclaims. “You bastard, I thought you were here to kill me! Holy shit, you got old!”

It’s the nail in the coffin. This is, actually, somehow, Klaus. Five has so many questions that he will have to ask - what the hell did he miss with his siblings that led to Klaus being here, of all places? What’s the date Klaus came from - by the looks of him it can’t be too long until the apocalypse. Could whatever crazy Umbrella Academy adventure this must be be a part of that fight that ends so terribly for them? If it is, Five can get valuable intel, can learn about at least the first part of the eyeball owner’s plot, has here the first major break in the apocalypse case in four decades - 

- and, louder than those thoughts, his heart pounds a deafening drum of Alive Alive Alive Alive Alive Alive Alive Klaus is Alive One of my siblings is right here in front of me and he is ALIVE.

(And so Five finds out about one of the ways his efforts to save his family could have gone, but with more info he can make improvements this time. Forewarned is forearmed, and now he knows who the commission will send. He has a hint as to how to jump to his family - the idea of screwing up and landing in a younger body is not appealing by any means, but - how has he not considered projecting his consciousness into a suspended state of himself before!? This is huge breakthrough. He has a briefcase that isn’t tied to him making him easily trackable; he can use the briefcase Klaus traveled here with to get home right now, and choose a destination accurately. (He can get his brother out of this active warzone while he’s at it, and if Klaus raises his chin and states that he’s not going anywhere without Dave, well - fuck the Commission, anyway. They want the world to end - their rules are not worth following. Five would be delighted to give them the huge middle finger of displacing someone in time.)

Five abandons the Commission earlier than another version of himself did - at his earliest opportunity, same as that other version of himself. He’s eager to finally start saving his family.)

[lily-blue]

CODE Z3RO | CODE 04

characters: BTS & Red Velvet genre: thriller, futuristic au warning: blood, death summary: The twelve most ambitious and promising university students are welcomed in Choego, the world’s first entirely artificial intelligence-driven city, to compete for five job contracts that could change their life. But what if something goes wrong? What if they get trapped? What if the city suddenly turns against them? Can they find a way out before the countdown reaches zero? words: 4,7K tagged: @philosopher-of-fandoms​

➼ Chapter Index

The corridor was dreadfully quiet as if Jung Hoseok had walked down on an abandoned graveyard full of long forgotten souls. Honestly, he hated every damn minute of this impossible trial that the researchers had forced upon their group of twelve, but at least his rivals weren’t too much to bear except for Taehyung whom he hoped would have disappeared along with or rather instead of daddy’s little princess. At least, Sooyoung had been a weaker link than him, a brainless doll dressed in gold and glitter. Considering the dynamic of their miniature society, she had meant no harm, meanwhile Taehyung seemed to be one of those guys who would have given you the last drop of drinking water just to poison you in a deserted island. He was ambitious and Hoseok knew that people like him would have done anything to get what they wanted.

Taking a sharp right turn, the Sociology major pushed the canteen’s double door open and walked towards their group that was eating in the corner, putting his arms on the edge of an ugly, plastic chair’s backrest. For a few minutes, he listened to their quiet chatter about neutral topics in silence, rolling his eyes when one of the girls changed the subject from a television show to the weather. It was a natural reaction for the chaotic situation they were in, complete ignorance, but the fact that he had known that it was something he should have expected didn’t mean that it didn’t rub him in the wrong way.

He cleared his throat to gain everyone’s attention. Looking at the empty lunch boxes and the dirty cellophane in front of Seokjin, he couldn’t wait to leave this creepy hospital behind, finding useful clues in the researchers’ headquarter, earning some good points for his neatness from their supervisors. He had always been good at finding links between reasons and consequences until the equation hadn’t expanded with risky variables such as haunted buildings, axe murderers and walking zombies. Would have it been possible that the researchers had made a complex trial for them, getting their inspiration from stupid, American survival shows and lame books for young adults? Shit! How much he hated their sick society and the masterminds behind the contemporary entertainment industry.

‘Did anyone see our Korean Richie Rich or that scary IT guy with the eerie look?’ he asked before he could have overthought their situation even more, his long fingers already shaking under the imaginary weight on his shoulders. Staying composed in an ambiguous situation had already taken a lot of energy out of his body and was harder that he had first thought. 

‘Did you check the toilets?’ the grumpy guy with lilac hair asked, chewing on the last bites of his sandwich in an obviously annoyed pace and Hoseok wondered whether Taehyung had hated people in general or it was him whom he had an actual problem with.

‘Well, obviously. I’m coming from there,’ he answered and patted the front side of his jeans with a wide grin, satisfied that he had finally found a toilet after he had failed so during his first attempt, half an hour prior when they had stepped into this eerie labyrinth with dozens of empty rooms and abandoned beds. Although a part of him did find rationality behind the absence of people - Choego was still under construction and was waiting for its wealthy inhabitants after all -, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy whenever he thought about the silence that surrounded them 24/7.

His gaze never leaving the boy deep in his own thoughts, Taehyung rolled his eyes at Hoseok’s stupidity, saving his energy as he swallowed a cocky comment on the inevitability of having more than one toilet in a huge building like this one with at least six floors. Humming, he honestly started to doubt the company’s management, considering that they had indeed thought of idiots like Hoseok as valuable candidates. From his point of view, even his three-year-old little sister was smarter than a significant part of their group of so-called prodigies. The thought of teaming up with a bunch of losers was utterly ridiculous yet he couldn’t disobey the researchers’ orders.

They all finished the remains of their food in utter silence except for Wendy who hushed her boyfriend when he tried to break the unpleasant atmosphere with a joke about two cartons of milk talking in the desert that only Seokjin could appreciated. Said boy stood up not long after the carefree laughter left his mouth and looked around with a pinch of worry in his eyes as the peace finally settled between the lovebirds on his right.

‘So now that we all finished our breakfast and Joohyun also got her insulin, I suggest to go and find the others. Any objections?’ he asked in a firm tone as he took the lead voluntarily. After all, when it came to measuring their possible strengths and weaknesses, he was far the most qualified for the job since he’d already had experience in disastrous situations thanks to his degree in Crisis Management. He’d served his required volunteer service in Nepal where a massive earthquake had killed more than eight thousand people in 2015. He was certain that he could handle the researchers’ tough simulation just as smoothly as he’d helped to rebuild hundreds of buildings for those who had lost not just their homes but their loved ones, too, from one day to another. Although back then, he hadn’t had to deal with disrespectful youngsters like Taehyung.

‘You bet! Could you explain, why are they so freakin’ important?’ he asked as he stood up just the same, his itching palms resting on the top of the table, voice heavy because of the boiling anger in his veins. He looked at his rivals, annoyed, then smashed the wooden furniture, fingers curling into pulsing fists as he stretched his back and faced with the eldest challengingly. ‘I mean, we’ve already left that crazy bitch behind - thank goodness -, so why are they any different? Is it because of his money?’ he came up with the first thing that seemed rational enough to waste their time for losers when Seokjin’s sharp glance rendered him speechless. The lilac-haired boy gulped but didn’t blink, holding onto his pride with tooth and nail regardless of the others’ disapproval snorts. 

‘It’s because we’re in the same team, Taehyung, and we won’t betray another fellow. Not until I’m here,’ Seokjin claimed earning a few smiles mostly from the girls. When he took the first step towards the double door, no one stayed behind. They all followed him to the hallway, leaving their bags and luggages casually in the corner, close to Jimin’s belongings. 

As if the obvious disagreement between Taehyung and Seokjin had forced everyone’s mouth shut, the incomplete group walked down the hallways without exchanging small talks, only Joohyun’s heavy breathing emerging from the background noise of their firm steps. Unlike his caring girlfriend who simply couldn’t hold herself back from glancing at her roommate’s direction, Namjoon looked more than bothered because of her current state.  But he chose not to confront the redhead more than once within a single hour and fixed his gaze on the strange duo right in front of him. Seeing Taehyung’s clenched fists and crimson ears, the mechanical engineer had some serious doubts whether Joohyun was the only one they should have been worried about. 

‘Did you see the Saw?’ Hoseok asked completely out of the blue as his gaze glided from the light green tiles to the boy on his left with an arched brow floating slowly yet challengingly to the middle of his forehead. He seemed nervous, Namjoon could tell, as his trembling hand ruffled his messy locks unintentionally, his hair already resembling to a bird’s nest because of his ugly cap that now peaked out of his jeans’ huge back pocket.

Namjoon narrowed his eyes, waiting anxiously when the lilac-haired boy’s annoyed voice reached his ears with a harsh ‘What?’

The older boy had always thought of himself as someone who rather avoided conflicts than raising his voice on the verge of an upcoming storm yet he couldn’t stop his shoulders from becoming naturally tense as he observed his childish teammates. He didn’t understand why any of them or anyone in general would have made an anxious sphere even more uncomfortable on purpose and if not on purpose then how came that they didn’t notice the obvious, the negative effect of their debate on the remaining people in their group. For him, it was enough to shoot a quick glance at Wendy’s creased forehead and he knew that something was definitely off with the situation.

‘In the sixth movie, although I’m not sure, there was this horrific game in which all the victims had to work together…’ Hoseok went on, trying to take a further discussion on the subject that seemingly made the whole situation worse as Taehyung’s fingers curled up in a slightly shaking fist.

‘Jeez! Just shut up already, would you? You’re such a headache,’ he snapped and speeded up his hasty steps to get as far from the Sociology major as possible considering his limited options. In the end, he slowed down next to Seulgi and walked by her side in silence as if she hadn’t been there in the first place. Not that the girl would have minded the momentary peace, Taehyung’s rejecting attitude was better than listening to their whining.

‘Asshole,’ Hoseok murmured under his nose, darting his tongue out at the younger’s back when he thought that no one was watching. But his resentful comment didn’t slip Namjoon’s attention as the engineer stepped behind him and watched her girlfriend as she checked on Joohyun when she was finally left alone. Her genuine eagerness to help others in need never failed to amaze the ever so rational boy therefore the fond smile that played in the corner of his mouth was rather proud than annoyed.

‘I saw that movie, man. It was the fifth actually,’ he answered the question Taehyung refused to and even patted Hoseok’s shoulder a few times to soothe his nerves, encouraging to follow the others who were already a few steps ahead of them. ‘A bit disgusting, if you ask me, but genius.’

They changed their opinions on the mentioned movie in which there had been a group of people who had to work together in exchange for their freedom. Yet, they failed miserably as they couldn’t stop sacrificing each other, not caring about anything but their own lives. Every single task in the survival game was designed to emphasize the importance of teamwork hiding it behind selfishness and the players only realized it when it was too late. At the final challenge, they had to fill an enormous object with their own blood and considering that by the time they had reached the last room only two of them survived, they almost bled out and died inches away from their redemption. If they hadn’t been killing one another so carelessly, a few ounces of blood would have been enough from each one of them. It was mind-blowing, one of the most amazing plot twists in the history of horror for sure.

Opening every single unlocked door and walking into every damn toilet and janitor’s room, they searched for Yoongi and Jimin literally everywhere in vain as if the Earth had suddenly opened its mouth and swallowed both of them up in whole. It made everyone uneasy.

They were on the ground floor in the eastern wing when Seokjin finally stopped and they all could take a short break from this insane hide and seek. Though, not everyone was so keen to rest as Jungkook and Taehyung markedly walked back and forth, not knowing what to do with their energy. But while the grumpy boy kicked into the wall here and there lightly, testing his strength, Jungkook observed the remaining doors on the current level one by one.

‘I really don’t think that they’ll be there,’ Namjoon stated when the youngster pushed the door with the basement sign on it open and peeked inside, turning his head left and right.

‘Maybe,’ he hummed, not really paying attention to the fellow engineer’s presence as he stepped on the first step behind the door instead. He had questions and he was more than willing to leave their group behind for a few hours at most if it was really necessary to find the desired answers. What was the whole point of this simulation beside the obvious, that the researchers were curious about their problem-solving abilities in an artificial catastrophe? What happened with those who had left the group? What if they all managed to pass the trial? Why had they lied to them about their schedule for the rest of the day when they clearly had other plans for their candidates? What kind of skills were required to get a contract? Creativity, cooperation, critical thinking? ‘But I’d like to check the whole facility in case they hid some clues on one of their computers,’ he explained, grabbing the handrail as he looked at Namjoon from above his shoulder. ‘You don’t have to follow me, though.’

The older boy furrowed his brows and opened his mouth, ready to protest but the voice that filled the air was definitely more high-pitched and less raspy than what his vocal chord could have ever maintained. Both Jungkook’s and Namjoon’s head turned towards the petite girl, standing right behind the latter, watching her acting all embarrassed because of the faint ‘I’d like to. Sounds like a good idea even if I won’t be much help,’ that had left her mouth. Yerim brushed a tiny mop of hair behind her ear over and over again, unable to stand the younger’s piercing gaze for more than an ephemeral moment. And everything became much worse when Taehyung decided to join their company.

‘Hah! Of course, she thinks that. After all, it’s his idea,’ the lilac-haired boy blurted out, his deep voice heavy with ill will and mockery. The Marketing major’s loud presumption and malicious smile turned the girl into a blushing mess within a blink of an eye and seeing her frightened look, anyone could have told that she wished nothing but to dissolve into thin air.

‘Is there something you want to say?’ Seokjin joined the conversation as well and stepped between Taehyung and Yerim like a human shield as if his presence could have protected the girl from everything that the grumpy boy had been so ready to throw at her face.

Taehyung snorted. Ridiculous. 

‘Sure. Your sister isn’t any better than Sooyoung was,’ he claimed, tilting his head to Yerim’s direction as the others walked closer, their figures forming a lame, irregular circle around the epicentrum of their debate. ‘Now that Gangnam girl’s gone, she’s the weakest link,’ Taehyung scoffed matter-of-factly, earning a few deadly glances from their teammates although no one protested, not even Seokjin. The eldest just stood there with tense shoulders and clenched fists, breathing shallow and worried. He hated that the Marketing major wasn’t that far from the truth - considering their abilities in an emergency situation, Joohyun, Hoseok and Yerim seemed to be the less useful members of their group. While the older girl panicked in stressful situations and Hoseok got easily scared even of his own shadow, his sister usually froze when everyone around her was loud and pressing. He had still remembered the first fire alarm test they’d had in primary school since Yerim’s homeroom teacher had made sure, it remained unforgettable as he’d freaked out in front of everyone when he had failed to find the little girl. But it didn’t mean that they couldn’t have surprised them with unexpected, innovative solutions. They had plenty of time to prove Taehyung wrong and Seokjin hoped they would. After all, without Yerim, they would have slept through and have failed the first part of the simulation.

Turning towards Jungkook, Seokjin relaxed his stiff muscles and spoke up in a rather calm voice.

‘Actually, we have plenty of time. Let’s go and check the area,’ he said, encouraging the younger with a firm nod as he took the first steps towards the door. To Taehyung’s dissatisfaction, everyone followed them thus he was the only one who remained in the hallway.

‘It’s useless. It’s not that we’ll find some nasty skeletons in their basement,’ he shouted like a sulky child and his annoyed statement forced Namjoon to stop on the first stair, head snapping at his direction. He looked at Taehyung, confused, lips in a firm line, white like virgin snow. Truth to tell, he didn’t like him - especially not his destructive attitude - but he was a part of their group, just as much as anyone else, and teamwork was the keypoint of their task. The researchers wanted them to work together, in unison, and Namjoon wasn’t that stupid to disobey their will because of Taehyung’s ill-wishing behaviour. He didn’t plan to shut him out since he didn’t plan to lose his chance to get a contract because of him either.

‘Don’t be a dick, man! I’m sure, you don’t want to be their enemy,’ he said, calling for him with a simple wave of his hand. ‘Let’s go!’

A few seconds later, the hallway was as empty as it had been before they would have crossed the threshold of the abandoned hospital - eerie and silent, lack of human souls.

Kim Seokjin was an excellent team player until his little sister wasn’t a part of the said group because then she became more important to him than anything or anybody else and preferences inevitably destroyed the collaboration. It wasn’t his fault though, their parents had raised him to be like this, they had literally planted the protectiveness in his nature from the moment Yerim had been born.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked in a voice so quiet, it was barely above a whisper although he did it out of goodwill rather than being ashamed of the fact that his sister wasn’t as fierce and independent as their mother who had been a zealous activist in Yerim’s age. She and their father had met on a protest against the educational system and its clearly disadvantageous and sometimes sexist rules such as the unsaid privileges that the wealthy students had gotten and the must of mini skirts even in winter. Well, back then they had been on different sides and that was what had made their love a groundbreaking story. Seokjin found it endearing and inspiring at the very same time. 

Shaking his head, he put his palm on his sister’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly. His caring touch earned an equally light sigh in return. 

‘Yeah. It’s not that I suddenly become useless just because he said so,’ Yerim replied and even though her voice was faint, both her eyes were shining with a reassuring glint, her lips curling up all the way to her ears. She didn’t want her brother to worry to no end nor was willing to give the satisfaction to Taehyung by letting him see her fall apart. So she strengthened her heart and didn’t let anxiety consume her soul.

‘That’s my girl,’ Seokjin smiled and patted the top of his sister’s head, staying by her side as they followed Jungkook who seemed unbothered by the fact that Yerim couldn’t take her eyes off of his back and could have easily burnt a hole in the middle of his bladebone if one had been beared with superpowers. Ah! He would have given everything to be able to turn simple object to gold.

At some point when the first closed door appeared on the hallway, Seokjin started to make mental notes and different theories based on their surroundings and all those things that had happened to them since they had arrived to the artificial city. Although it looked logical that the city was empty considering that it didn’t have any citizens and the food supply in the canteen was also rational, the lack of instructions bugged him as if something had been off, as if the simulation hadn’t gone as planned. They should have found at least a video or audio file by now that could have help them step on the appointed path, shouldn’t have they?

Sharply turning right, Seokjin was so immersed in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice that Jungkook’s firm body stopped dead in front of a glass wall that separated them from a well-equipped laboratory full of huge, white cabinets and tables, papers laying in piles on their titanium surface. 

‘Look! There’s a computer,’ Jungkook spoke up, his index-finger pointing at the electrical device in the left corner of the room. He didn’t hesitate, not even for a moment, as he lifted his bracelet in front of the small control panel on the right side of the door with a victorious smile on his face, demanding entrance which he got after a few seconds of complete silence. ‘Cool.’

When the boy stepped inside the lab, Seokjin grabbed his sister’s wrist, looking deep into her eyes, searching for some kind of confirmation in them that she knew what she was doing and she wasn’t so impatient to follow the raven-haired boy inside the room because she was indeed attracted to him as Taehyung had suggested approximately ten minutes ago. Not that he had problems with Jungkook as a person because he seemed like a really nice guy but the fact that he had let Sooyoung stuck inside their dormitory didn’t make him the most reliable fellow. He didn’t want Yerim to be used by some guy who was mostly alluring because of his distant behaviour. He was familiar with young adult books, he knew that these kind of boys always got the shy girl in town. 

Yerim pulled her arm out of Seokjin’s grab and walked inside the laboratory soon followed by the rest of the team except Taehyung who refused to play by Jungkook or anyone else’s rules. He leaned against the glass wall from the outside and shot an ill-wishing smile at the eldest when he gave in to her sister’s wishes and crossed the threshold as well.

Since her steps came to a halt a few inches from Jungkook’s back, Seokjin walked to the computer, too, while the others opened the cabinets and the hidden drawers that they couldn’t have seen from the hallway. Joohyun and Namjoon made themselves busy with the printed papers on the tables.

‘Honey, could you take a look at these reports? It’s absolutely Chinese for me but you might be familiar with the ingredients in the right corner. They sound pretty medicine-like,’ he mused, looking at the said girl from above his shoulder, watching her as she put a tiny phial filled with some blue fluid back to its container.

‘Just a sec,’ she replied and slid the glass door back to its frame, paying close attention not to break anything inside.

As she step behind her boyfriend and took the paper out of his hand, Seokjin’s gaze glided back to the computer’s screen. Honestly, he didn’t understand a single thing but Jungkook’s clicks were so firm and confident that he put his trust in his knowledge without thinking. He opened then closed some folders, pushed the keys on the keyboard, furrowed his brows and started everything all over again until a stubborn window blocked him from further investigation and after a careless right click, everything went black.

‘What happened?’ Yerim asked, curious, leaning a tad bit closer to the blank screen and so to Jungkook without thinking twice. As her nostrils got filled with the boy’s characteristic scent that was definitely stronger and manlier than she would have thought, her whole face turned ruby red and she stepped backwards so hastily that she bumped into her brother’s shoulder. Seokjin rolled his eyes but didn’t make a comment on her obviously awkward behaviour. No, he turned towards Jungkook instead, waiting for his reply.

But that answer had never come as the door that allowed them to leave the room started to move, fast. 

‘Everyone! Get out of this room! Now!’ Seokjin shouted as soon as he caught a glimpse of the closing exit, waving with his hands towards its direction as if his exaggerated gestures could have fasten everyone’s speed. But it couldn’t. 

Since Joohyun couldn’t handle stress and Wendy cared too much, Namjoon couldn’t pull them out of the room on his own because dealing with a mild panic attack and his stubborn girlfriend was simply overwhelming. He needed help and Seokjin was the only one who was willing to give them that extra hand. He ran towards his frozen teammates and grabbed Joohyun by her wrist. The eldest threw her arm over his shoulder casually then lifted her petite figure as he carried her out of the lab, letting Namjoon show him the way.

‘What the…,’ he heard Jungkook swearing as he accidentally crashed his shoulder into the glass wall, trying really hard not to collide with Seulgi who got to the door the same moment as he did. Seokjin rolled his eyes, panting, before he put the girl in his arms down.

‘Where is Yerim?’ he asked when he caught his breath and looked around, anxiety growing in his chest due to the absence of his little sister.

‘Inside,’ Taehyung stated with a flat face while he pointed at the girl who had seemingly frozen a few steps from the blank screen. Her gaze were cloudy, lips slightly parted with fear.

‘I left her with you. You should have grabbed her hand and pull her out, you selfish bastard,’ Seokjin snapped, screaming like a wild animal and the only thing that kept him back from slapping Jungkook’s face was the clinking sound of the closing door. It was already through halfway but he couldn’t stay still.

The boy ran back inside the lab and wrapped his long fingers around his sister’s wrist, pulling her towards the hallway like crazy but Yerim fell into her knees because of the sudden force and hit her head into the table, feeling the bitter taste of her own vomit in the back of her throat. She didn’t move until her brother helped her find her balance and pushed her towards the door. Three. Yerim finally took her first steps on her own, running. Two. Seokjin was so happy that his sister managed to reach the hallway in time that he didn’t notice the report that had slipped out of Wendy’s hand on the floor. One. Glass collided with glass at the same time, the young man’s butt crashed to the floor. Shocked, no one dared to say a word.

The relieved smile soon froze onto Yerim’s lips as she realized what had happened. Her whole body was a shaking mess as she turned on her heels and looked at her brother, stuck inside the lab. She put her palms onto the wall, tears blurring her vision.

‘No,’ she whispered over and over again while her spirit slowly gave up, knees fitting close to the ground. ‘We’ll get you out, don’t worry, okay?’ she promised, not knowing that the room was actually soundproof and all Seokjin could see was her sadness and guilt. So he smiled, crawling to the wall in his own pace. He didn’t have to be fast anymore, there was no need to rush.

Meanwhile Hoseok stepped to the control panel and lifted his own bracelet in front of it in vain. It didn’t work, in fact, it rejected his request more dramatically than he would have ever thought. It shifted red and turned on the security system.

Seokjin’s shoulders tensed as the ventilation system markedly stopped working and the air became heavy with an unfamiliar chemical product, something transparent with no scent yet with something that burnt his veins. He shook his head, leaning his sweaty forehead against the glass, and took a few swallow breathers as if it could have magically solved his breathing problems. It hurt like hell, moving his limbs, keeping his eyes open hence he stayed still, gaze fixed on his clearly panicking sister. She was worried, he knew it. She must have been already screaming for a while, making silly promises that she couldn’t keep. It would have been so typical of her. He laughed and his raspy voice echoed in the sphere as the world turned red.

Red walls, red people, red tears. Even the last memory that popped up in his mind between confusing, fading pictures was red, cherry lips sealing his mellow ones with the untrue promise of infinity.  

➼  chapter V.

[lovemesomerafael]

Cinderella of Chicago              Chapter 4, Part 1:  The House

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3      Read it on AO3

OK, so it’s Halloween and I kind of liked the idea of putting Otis and Meg in another fairy tale, so...   It got long so I’m splitting this chapter into two parts.  Bonus points if you can guess which fairy tale this is.  

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

“You’re sure this is a good idea?  I don’t know this part of town at all,” Meg said, looking out the windows of Brian’s car at a neighborhood that was far from hers, both in distance and in character.

Meg lived in a blue-collar, working-class neighborhood.  Brian’s apartment was in a much nicer part of Chicago, which is why it took all three of them – Brian, Joe Cruz, and Sylvie Brett – to afford the rent.  But this neighborhood was something entirely different. This neighborhood… it was weird to even call it that because the lots surrounding the mansions were so huge, it seemed that even people who lived in houses on adjacent lots lived too far apart to qualify as “neighbors.”  

“We’re good.  Just trust Siri,” Brian said, giving Meg a little smile. Not the big, incendiary one that turned him instantly from cute guy to hottie, but one that gave Meg a little rush nonetheless.  

“I don’t know.  I don’t belong here.  I keep thinking any minute we’re going to be pulled over for Driving While Poor.”

“I’m with you there,” he agreed. “And then we’d be escorted to the border and told not to come back.”

Meg laughed.  “I hope you aren’t as turned around as I am, or else we’re gonna need that escort.  I’m so lost right now, I could never find my way out of here.”

“That’s why there’s Siri.”

Unfortunately, Siri let them down.  She was not able to help Brian and Meg find the house they wanted.  She said she could; at one point, she announced – very pleased with herself, Brian thought – that they had reached their destination. But they were at the bottom of a dead-end street that had no houses on it.

Brian gave Siri a piece of his mind.  Meg had to laugh when they began to drive away from the spot and Siri said, “Recalculating…”  

“Recalculate this, Siri!!!”  

This was all a little out of Meg’s comfort zone, but she totally understood Brian’s desire to go to this effort. The guy had advertised an authentic Admiral Grus jersey actually worn by Barry Lueck in the original series of Battle Astronauts.  The Craigslist ad said he had documentation of its authenticity, which Brian insisted upon after the Battlestar Galactica helmet incident.  So she totally understood his disappointment.  

“Maybe we could drive around, see if we can find the street name.  It’ll still be light outside for a little while.”  Meg would actually rather give up and cuddle up on a couch to watch an episode of Battle Astronauts, maybe order a pizza.  But the jersey had actually been worn by Barry Lueck on the show, so she was willing to stick it out as long as Brian was.  

They ended up driving around the winding, seemingly shifting streets of this exclusive neighborhood for two hours.  It was no good.  They couldn’t even find the street.  By the time it was full dark, Brian was crushed and asking, once again, what kind of Craigslist poster doesn’t answer calls and texts about their advertised item. But he was grateful to Meg for her patience, and for coming with her at all.  

“You’ve been great about this, Meg.  So you get to decide what we do tonight.  I’m up for whatever you want to do.”  

They’d had some fun dates. The more time they spent together, the more they found they had in common, and the more they liked each other. They had a few friends in common that they could double- and triple-date with.  They’d also had a few chances to spend some more time alone together, which was something that was on both their minds as they contemplated how to spend their Saturday night.  Both Brian and Meg were on the hesitant, awkward side with the opposite sex to begin with.  And, although they’d never discussed it explicitly, they also shared a reluctance to rush into sex.  

As new couples do, they had gone a bit further each time they were alone together.  After midnight black-light bowling with Cruz and his girlfriend Chloe, which had probably been Meg’s favorite of their dates so far, she had invited Brian up to her apartment for a BattleGround Jupiter rematch.  They’d both ended up shirtless on her couch, and there had been some over-the-jeans petting.  After Brian’s favorite date, laser tag, they had done a lot of shirtless grinding. And after their latest date, an alcohol-fueled and hotly-contested game of Catan with three other couples at Brian’s apartment, they’d ended up in Brian’s bed.  They’d undone each other’s jeans and done some very pleasant exploration, but didn’t get completely naked.    

So when Meg said that she wanted to watch Battle Astronauts and order pizza, Brian suggested they do it at his place.  He said it was because his TV was bigger, but in fact it was because that’s where his condoms were.  Just in case.

The original Battle Astronauts had not aged well in some ways, but for the most part, the plots and characters held up very well.  Besides, it was just a fun show to watch and, given that Brian and Meg had seen every episode at least three times, they didn’t have to pay much attention.  They enjoyed pizza and the show, cuddled together under a blanket on the couch in the living room.  They laughed and joked, made fun of cheesy parts of the show, and kissed.  

During the third episode, the kisses became more insistent.  It was a short time before they had each other’s shirts off.  With Meg’s legs wrapped around his waist, Brian was helpless to stop himself from rubbing against her, especially with her encouraging him, until they were both gasping.  But when she reached her hand between them and began fumbling with the button on his jeans, it was time to go upstairs before either of his roommates unexpectedly came home and got an eyeful.  This time, although they saved the final act for later, they did get completely naked, and they both slept in Brian’s bed after satisfying each other for the first time.  Well, times.    

The following morning, as they were hungrily eating waffles and bacon, Brian’s phone pinged with the sound of an incoming text.  

“Finally!”  He cried, seeing that the text was from Gruseliger Forscher, the person selling the Admiral Grus jersey.  Brian wasn’t sure whether Gruseliger was a man’s name or a woman’s, but assumed it was a man.  Forscher said that he had received Brian’s messages, although he said nothing about all the frantic calls.  This time, he texted directions to the house, mentioning for the first time that GPS didn’t really work in his neighborhood because the streets hadn’t been correctly mapped.  Brian had a lot of opinions about Forscher not mentioning that before, but now that he had actual directions, and after his amazing night with Meg, he was again full of hope and ready to try again.

Again Brian and Meg set out in search of the house.  The neighborhood, when they finally got there, was just as overwhelming and intimidating as before, although it made them feel a little better to have directions. Except that there were an awful lot of one-way streets in the area.  Brian didn’t say anything, but he became less confident of his ability to find his way back out with every turn.  He’d expected to simply reverse Forscher’s directions, but that wasn’t going to work. He was going to have to ask Forscher for directions back out of this labyrinth of mansions and gated compounds. He wouldn’t use the word ‘lost’, at least not to Meg.  At least not yet.  

The directions weren’t that great, either.  They did a fair amount of wandering, looking for street names, because there simply wasn’t much about the actual landscape that matched the directions.  Meg was just beginning to think that the jersey, even if authentic and even if it still had traces of Barry Lueck’s actual DNA in it, might not be worth this kind of time and aggravation.  She knew Brian would be disappointed if he didn’t get the jersey, but they’d been driving around for almost two hours.  Again.  

Brian spotted the street first. It was Copper Drive Southeast, and they wanted Southwest, but he thought that they might, finally, be getting close. He turned the corner in hopes Copper Drive Southeast would just, at some point, become Copper Drive Southwest. Meg wasn’t sure it worked that way, but she was noticing the gas gauge, and hoping for some luck.  It was starting to seem like a long time since they’d eaten those waffles.  Besides which, both she and Brian were getting a little bit testy with each other – taking their boredom, anxiety, and emerging hunger out on the only available target.  

And then, as if by enchantment, the street became Copper Drive Southwest.  Brian let out a whoop of victory and Meg leaned over and kissed him while he drove.  Both began to look eagerly for house numbers.  They turned out to be hard to find.  Some houses simply didn’t have any visible numbers.  There were tall hedges interrupted by stone pillars supporting locked gates, or actual carriage houses flanking electronically-controlled barriers, or carefully-cultivated landscaping that split to admit a driveway, but concealed the houses at the end of the drive.  They began to fall back into a tense, unhappy silence as more and more time elapsed without them seeming to get any closer to their destination. Without saying so, Brian was becoming truly concerned about the amount of gas he had left.  He would never have believed it would take this much driving to find the house, and they were certainly not going to come upon a Chevron in this neighborhood.  

The street made another wide, curvy turn, and they could see, perhaps a quarter-mile ahead, that Copper Drive Southwest came to a dead end.  

“No!”  Brian gasped.  

“Don’t give up,” Meg said. “There’s still one house on the right.”

Brian slowed the car.  As he pulled up, he could see that there was no house number on the river rock plinths that supported large, wrought iron lamps on either side of a curved driveway.  There was a gate, but it was open.  A good sign.  Brian stopped and he and Meg squinted up at the house, which was surprisingly overgrown with trees in need of trimming and some kind of dark, clinging ivy.  Still, Meg thought she could see a house number on the small porch roof that overhung the double doors at the front.  

“This might be it,” she said. “That looks like the right numbers. We’ll be sure when we pull in.”

“I don’t know.  That house…  Don’t you think it’s a little creepy?”

Brian was right.  The house was tall and square, apparently three stories, with a mansard roof that featured two dormer windows on each side. It had been an indiscriminate beige color, but was badly in need of paint, with moss growing on the water-stained roof.  The fence around it and the railings on the flat areas of the roof featured wickedly pointed uprights that, while intended to be decorative, gave the house a distinctly menacing air.  The lawn in front was short, but dry and full of bare, brown patches.  In the fading light of late afternoon, it was not a welcoming place.

Until Brian saw the Batmobile.

Parked just past the front of the house, where it hadn’t been readily visible from the street, was a low, sleek, black car with red trim and the classic rounded, dual-sided windshield and top from the original Batman television series.  It even had the red bat logos on the door and hubcaps.  Meg, who had removed her seat belt to lean forward to see the house number, bumped her head on the windshield as Brian slammed on the brakes.  

“Do you see that?  That’s a Batmobile!  There’s a real, original Batmobile in there!”

He quickly backed up and turned the car into the driveway, leaving Meg to hold on as best she could. When they reached the front of the house, they could see that it was, in fact, the right house number.  They didn’t discuss it, simply got out and went immediately over to the Batmobile before knocking on the door.

“That is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.  I mean, it could be a reproduction, but who cares?  It’s awesome!”  Brian cried.

Meg noted the three chrome exhaust pipes angling up from the sides, and the grate-covered flashing light on top.  “This is amazing – it’s got everything from the original show!”  

For long minutes, they walked around, ooh-ing and aah-ing over the details of the Batmobile, forgetting anything but its long, aerodynamic lines and the memories evoked by the car. “I wonder if blue flame comes out of here,” Meg asked, pointing to the round exhaust port in the rear.

“It looks brand new, I bet it runs!”  Brian exclaimed.

“Of course it does,” a creaky voice said.

Brian and Meg turned to see an elderly woman leaning on a walking stick, standing on the driveway about halfway between the door and the Batmobile.  She was hideous.  There was no other word for her.   She was very tall and stooped, wearing a long, baggy dress of faded green over her overabundant form, with a brown sweater that was more hole than yarn hanging limply over her shoulders.  Her feet were encased in what appeared to be house slippers that had absolutely no shape anymore.  Her long, grey hair sprouted sparsely from a greyish-pink scalp and a faded scarf of no particular color was tied loosely and carelessly around her head. Her face was careworn and hung with sagging folds of skin which did nothing to distract from her massive, misshapen nose.  Meg thought that her teeth probably gave her a lot of pain and bad breath, because what few there were of them were brown and chipped.  

This old hag was the last person on Earth Brian would have expected to own a Batmobile, yet she hobbled over to them and patted one of the long fins affectionately.  Meg was again concerned about the woman’s health as she noticed the painfully gnarled and bent fingers of a long-term arthritis sufferer. “This baby purrs like a kitten, and yes, it shoots blue flame out the back.”  She smiled hideously at Meg.

Meg smiled back, going into nurse mode.  She dealt with all manner of people in her job in the ER at Chicago Med, and could easily turn off conventionality and judgment to deal with people on their own terms, after doing it for years.  “Hello. I’m Meg, and this is Brian.”

“I’m Gruseliger Forscher,” the old woman said, nodding but making no move to shake hands.  Meg wasn’t surprised; it would probably hurt to have someone squeeze those fingers even lightly.

Brian came over to stand several steps away from the woman.  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Forscher.”  He, too, was good at talking to people who were different from him.

“No one calls me Mrs. Forscher. I’m Granny.”

Meg laughed a little, and said, “It’s nice to meet you, Granny.”

“Are you the one selling the Admiral Grus jersey?”  Brian asked.

“Oh, yes, that’s me,” the woman said in her wheezy, creaky voice.  “Would you like to come in and see it?”

Brian and Meg both had the urge to share a look, but out of politeness tried not to.  This place, and this woman, were creepy.  They really didn’t want to go into the house.

“I have all kinds of memorabilia,” Granny said.  “This is just the beginning.  I have a helmet from the 1962 version of General Craddock From Mars.  Not the crappy remake, the original movie, you know.”

“Seriously?  Cool,” Meg said.

“And then, of course, there’s my Team Neptune stuff.”

“Wait – Team Neptune?  You have Team Neptune stuff?”  Brian’s eyes went wide and he took a step toward Granny. Team Neptune had been his absolute favorite show as a little kid, and he still had a special place for it in his heart.

“Oh, yes.  Collected that for years.  Come on in, I’ll show you.”  

Without even thinking about it, Brian and Meg followed Granny up the driveway and into the dark, creepy house. Everything inside was strangely clean, but seemed to be from another era.  The furniture was shiny with polish, but heavy and dark, and the windows were swathed in thick, dark fabrics that kept out the scant sunlight that could penetrate the overgrown trees outside.  The air was dense and stale, as though no door or window had been opened for ages, and there was a slight chemical tang to it.  They didn’t see any thing resembling science fiction memorabilia anywhere as they followed the woman, now taking the chance to share a puzzled but amused look between them.  This was definitely an odd place, and an odd woman.  

She waved them into a parlor with more of the heavy, polished furniture, inviting them to have a seat on an overstuffed sofa with a tall, rounded back, covered in dark plum-colored velvet.

“Please, have a seat. I’ve made us some tea.”

After taking a seat on a wingback chair across from them, she lifted an ornate silver teapot and began to pour into the three cups waiting on a matching silver tray.  The table was more shiny wood, with complicated, curlicued legs.  It looked like it weighed too much for Meg to be able to move it.  Now Meg and Brian openly looked at one another, dawning concern on each of their faces.  

“Mrs. Forscher-“

“Oh, call me Granny,” she said, smiling hideously with her few remaining teeth.  

“Granny,” Brian continued, “I’m afraid we don’t have time for tea.  We’ve come quite a ways and we’ve been driving around…  It’s kind of you to offer, but we can’t really stay for tea.”

Granny finished pouring out and picked up a teacup and saucer.  She indicated that Meg and Brian should do the same.  “Oh, I insist.  I’m an old woman, I don’t get much company.  And maybe you’d like me to tell you some stories about being on the set of Team Neptune.”

“You were on the set of Team Neptune?”  Meg was intrigued and picked up a teacup without thinking further about it.  

“Oh, yes.  I was what they called a script girl in those days…”  

For the next fifteen minutes, they sat rapt as Granny told them stories about the set of Team Neptune, and the antics of some of the actors.  Brian thought the tea was terrible, but Granny kept watching him and looking at his cup.  He would have simply stopped drinking it, but she was so persistently observant that he felt he had to finish the cup.  Somehow he managed it, but it wasn’t easy.  At least Granny’s stories were interesting.  The second he set his empty cup down, Granny ended the story she was telling and struggled to her feet, grunting.  Brian noticed that Meg’s cup was still half-full.  He decided to complain later about Granny paying attention to his cup and not hers.

“Let’s go see the jersey,” Granny croaked, and led them to a doorway, then down a narrow hall with a thick, sound-deadening rug on the floor. At the end of the hall was a tall wooden door that was as shiny as the rest of the wood in her house.  The door opened, not with the creak Brian was expecting, but with an almost pneumatic-sounding swish.  

Granny stepped aside and waved them inside.  There, on a mannequin bust, was Admiral Grus’s jersey.  Brian exclaimed and rushed toward it.  As he did, the woman moved much faster than they had seen her move before, and certainly much faster than they would have expected she could.  She pushed Meg back through the doorway and slammed the door, closing Brian inside the room.

“What the hell?”  Meg gasped, slammed against a wall of the narrow hallway by the old woman’s quick push.  

“Don’t worry, dearie.  I’m not planning to hurt you.  I just need your help with a little project I’m working on.”

“Wait – open that door! Let Brian out!”

“Brian is fine.  I need his help, too.”  The woman pulled a small, tarnished brass key on a chain from under her shapeless dress and fitted it into the doorknob of the room where Brian was pounding on the door to be let out.  As she turned the key, a thin, unseen panel on the side of the door opened and the woman slid a metal grate, made up of vertical bars about six inches apart and three thick horizontal bars at regular intervals, over the doorway to click into a frame on the other side of the doorway.  Then she turned the key again and pushed the door to the room back open, tucking the key back under her dress.

Brian pushed the door roughly back to the wall and began to step out, seeing the grate only in time to avoid knocking into it.

“Hey!”  He cried.  “What’s going on?  Let me out of here!”  

“You’ll be fine,”  Granny sighed, turning to open a door further back up the hall toward the parlor.  She went in, leaving the door open behind her.

Brian and Meg looked at each other, astounded and now deeply concerned.  “Call 911,” Meg said quietly.  She didn’t have her cell phone with her, but Brian did.

He stepped back into the room, moving down the wall a bit in hopes the woman wouldn’t hear him calling but, at that moment, she came out of the room she’d gone into.  “Oh, you won’t have any service in here,” she said, apparently fully aware of what Brian was doing although she couldn’t see him.

It was then that Meg saw that the woman held a little metal tray like those at a doctor’s office or hospital, upon which sat modern blood-drawing equipment, the same kind Meg used daily at Chicago Med.

“What the hell is that for?” Meg knew she was shrieking, but she was past trying to be polite or calm at this point.  They needed to get out of this house and away from this creepy old hag.

“It’s for you, my dear. To draw his blood.”

“WHAT?  I’m not going to do-  And how did you know I can draw blood?  Who are you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Let’s just get the first sample, shall we?  So we can see what we’re working with.”

Brian grabbed and shook the grate over the door.  “Let me out of here!  This is illegal!  Let me out right now!”

Meg moved toward the old woman. “Listen, lady, I don’t want to hurt you, but if you think I’m going to let you hurt either one of us, think again. Let him out.  Now.”  She tried to sound scary, but the truth was, she was scared.  

The old woman simply stood placidly, holding the tray of blood drawing equipment.  “You may try to leave, if you like.  You won’t succeed.  Go ahead, try.”

Meg ran down the hallway, through the parlor, to the door.  For at least five minutes, she tried to open it without success.  Giving up at last, she turned to see that the old woman was not behind her.  She was afraid of what the woman might be doing to Brian, but there was no sound from the back of the house.  Meg decided enough was enough.  She picked up a straight-backed chair and swung it, legs first, into the closest window. It bounced off.  What the hell?  She tried again, two, three, four more times, each swing harder than the last.  There wasn’t even a mark on the window.  Meg knocked on it with her knuckle, and found that it was some sort of thick material that felt almost plastic.  Beginning to panic, Meg ran from window to window, knocking on all of them.  They were all made of that unbreakable material.

Shouting a vile string of words, she ran back through the parlor to the hallway.  “Let us the fuck out of here, damn it!  If I have to knock you down and take that key, then that’s what I’ll do.  I am not messing around here.”

She glanced at Brian, who looked as frightened as she felt.

“I understand, my dear. This is very upsetting,” the hag wheezed, a horrible smile showing her disgusting teeth.  “Do what you must.”

The woman just stood there, still holding the tray.  Meg hesitated briefly, looked at Brian behind that grate, and lunged.  The woman didn’t budge, but simply held an arm out to keep Meg from being able to grab at the chain around her neck where the key hung. It was as if she was made of solid rock. Nothing Meg could do made her move, or seemed to change her expression, even when Meg became desperate and began to kick at her.  

“I’m not taking Brian’s blood, you witch!  What the hell do you even want it for?  Just let us out of here.  I’ll use a weapon if I have to.  We are not staying here one more minute.”

Again, the old woman said, “I understand, my dear.  Do what you must.”  

Meg retrieved the chair she’d used to try to break a window and brandished it at the woman.  The woman didn’t move, and didn’t change expression. Meg looked to Brian.

“Do it,” he said.

Meg swung the chair with all her strength, straight at the center of the woman’s body, hitting her on her left arm and chest.  She didn’t move or react.  The only result was gouges in the thick, heavy legs of the chair and some very sore muscles in Meg’s arms.  Now she was truly frightened.  

“What the hell?”  Brian gasped, his wide eyes and gaping mouth mirroring Meg’s.

Meg set the chair down slowly, unsure what to do.  Despite Meg’s attempt to bodily remove the key from around the woman’s neck, and hitting her with a substantial chair, the hag hadn’t even dropped the little tray with the blood drawing equipment.  For a long time, no one said anything.  The look between Brian and Meg was full of fear and questions with no obvious answers.

“I won’t hurt Brian,” Meg said quietly.

“Of course not, dearie. You’re just going to draw a little blood.”

“Yours, maybe.  Not his.”  Meg hissed, trying to act braver than she felt.

“There are knives in the kitchen.  You may try to spill my blood, if you must.”

The looks between Brian and Meg had graduated to terrified and unbelieving.  Without a word, they decided that it would be useless, and possibly dangerous to Meg, for her to try to hurt the woman.  They would have to find another way to free Brian and escape the house.

[prosteticanimals]

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