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fountainpenguin · 3 months ago

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Everyone wish "Happy birthday" to the most specialist boy in the world!! SnifferMyFeet is 1 year old! 🎂

A face many beyond his mother do love!!

Ah, it feels like only yesterday I critically injured Joel in a 'fic chapter and left him in desperate need of grafts from someone with similar biology, not knowing where I'd go from there... and then I woke a few hours later to find THIS GUY dropped in our laps?? sdlkfj, that will never happen to me again... Sniff, my beloved brain-chemistry-altering deus ex machina...

Anyway, I have a multi-chapter 'fic about Sniff being oh so very baby... So baby, in fact, that he's a newborn hybrid who refuses to nurse from his mother dragon. Huh... What's up with that?

Well, never fear! The Fox Dragon and her hybrid son Rhetoric are on the case! Rhetoric's raised hundreds of foxes... Feeding one little endermite should be a breeze!

- Collector's Fee -

�� Pixels Imperfect AU

It was only a matter of time before Grian’s off-color soul attracted the wrong attention in the server hub. The thing about foxes is… they like to take. And the Fox Dragon is no exception. Meanwhile, a nurse plots to kidnap a baby. AKA - Grian gets locked in a museum with newborn SnifferMyFeet. Etho and Joel plot to rescue him.

Chapter 1 - Mama Ender - 5,200 words

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 T - Ongoing multichapter

💚 More MCYT 'Fics

This story takes place in the Between dimension, where server hubs lie. It kicks off with a focus on OCs (and SnifferMyFeet), with Etho, Grian, and Joel on deck to show up soon. Enjoy!

“Why aren't you also wishing PiglinMyNose a happy birthday?” -> He's Joel's cam account (LazyBeans26) who changed names; Sniff was new :) Born...

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

💙 🧡 💚

There's really something to be said about flying west on your mother's back, the sun arcing behind you like a phoenix from the dust. Everything's fuzzy in the early light. Morning's reach casts a great, winged shadow over permafrost and pebbles. Endermen scatter, poofing in zigzags. Ohhh, yes… Rhetoric latches his fingers more tightly in his mother's white and ginger neck fur. His tail streams behind in the wind, flapping like the edges of his open jacket. What a rush. It fights against him, threatening to rip him from the dragon like a picked-off scab.

Look at it all. A rosy pink, purple, and orange glow seeps across the hills. Blue shadows paint their undersides in lumpy triangles hundreds of blocks high, like they were painted with a brush too big for precision. The dropped brush itself could've created this waterless valley. Stray goats and wraiths flicker into view with every hill they pass. They dot the sagebrush and glacier chunks… or what's left of them these days. Slithering monsters with rattly bones and three great necks roam these lands now. Rhetoric can't see them even from the air, but the black roses below wave in the whistling breeze.

They're fresh. Someone would've plucked them up for dye.

The flowers stain the ground in rows like memorial stones. Sculk seeps from a deep scour in the earth just beyond them. Some hybrid in a midnight blue hoodie fights the good fight below, striking with a stone hoe. It's a slow and sticky process; the sculk clings in goopy lines like saliva in a yawn. Yikes. Write home and tell me how that turns out for you.

Charlotte beats her wings and flies beyond it. Rhetoric blinks. Her shadow skims the dry valley below. One by one, flowers slip out of render distance behind them.

The Ender Dragon lurks underground, deep within the cave city of Lower Evernight. Charlotte circles the hill twice, then swoops straight towards the sagebrush and ice. Rhetoric clings to her neck like a bur, arms and legs clamped like honey. The ground blocks blur together, then vaporize in a sweep of smoke. Fox Dragon and hybrid rider drop into the depths of the cave. With a twitch of Mother's claws, her world edit commands repair the gash. Rhetoric shifts, peering past her wispy fur as Charlotte glides across the underground city like a fluffy kite.

This isn't his first time visiting the City of Ever-Shifting Blocks. Granted, it… might be his second. But the cave's no less breathtaking than he remembers, and that's saying a lot for a guy immune to drowning. Endflame lanterns gleam far below, lighting the darkness with pricks of purple. Everything's arranged in a circle like a giant chocolate chip cookie. It'd take all 98 of the Between dimension's dragons to devour one of those, and he snorts at the thought. His mother's mane ripples against his cheek and he nestles tighter to her fur.

It's easier, traveling with a dragon in a place like this. The aboveground world's in anarchy and a city filled with enderman never keeps its streets and signposts for long. Everybody wants pretty things. The easiest way to keep things involves taking them when you see them around. In a way, it's no surprise Jean and Charlotte are thick as, well…

(He chuckles at his own joke.)

Jean's nursing cave lies tucked away, high on the underground city's wall, where her children can reach her if they need to, but will probably think twice before making the effort. Beyond triplet endflame lanterns (one to either side of the door, one above) and a small viewing platform encased in a fence, it lacks decoration. Only on the outside, though… What professional thief openly displays her goods in a city of pickpockets? Hm. Rhetoric's last trip to Evernight ended on that viewing platform. Will Jean step out again this time?

Or are we going in? The ever-present itch - the need - to go deeper coils in the backs of his hands.

With a few swishes and swoops, Charlotte lands like a perching parrot in front of the iron door that divides it. She folds in her wings, almost knocking Rhetoric straight off. Not today. Her form blurs, melting in size and color, until she's standing like a hybrid with a swishing ginger tail. And from there, she slides Rhetoric from her arm to the ground. Charlotte wore her fox-eared hoodie and baggy pocket-covered pants for this trip. Out of place? Undignified? Below her status? Perhaps… but Rhetoric can't blame her. Showing up at her mother's door in her usual treasure hunter's garb probably wouldn't go over well. At least this way, she's inconspicuous in a crowd. Only the five glowing dots pulsing on the underside of her left wrist would give her away.

Rhetoric unbuckles the saddle still hanging from her back. Since he has no inventory space himself (Born without it; long story), he goes to set it on the ground… then stops. He glances over the rail at at the violet lights of the city far below. Hmm…

The thing about Evernight is, not only are there thieves lurking here, and not only can they see in the dark, but endermen and endermites alike can teleport. They could be watching him as they speak. And there's a drop straight to the Void down there somewhere. Endermen and endermites can swim in the Void. Fox hybrids can't. He tucks the saddle under his arm instead.

Charlotte keeps her ear pressed to cold iron. "I don't hear babies," she reports. "Let's give this a shot."

"I'll be ready to grab."

Charlotte presses the button beside the door. It pops open, whacking her arm, and they both jump back. No babies scramble for freedom from the nursing cave, but the small hall between them and the next door is filled with water. Clever… Baby enderman probably make one attempt to escape and never again.

They wade over, taking careful steps in their boots. This iron door, though, must have its button on the other side. To be polite, Charlotte takes the stick from the wall and knocks, introducing herself with a call… but the grunt they get in response is as much of a "Let yourself in," as you'll ever get. Fair enough. With a wave of her hand, Charlotte dissolves the neighboring blocks with world edit, then steps around the door in the place they used to stand. Rhetoric follows with the saddle, ducking out just before the blocks rematerialize behind him.

Oh. Hels. Yes. Now, this is the treasure-filled cavern he'd envisioned on his last visit, lying awake in the embassy kicking and squirming, unable to lie still unless his eyes and fingers could caress secret ores and gems. "Kick me, Mother, for I am dreaming," he mutters.

❤️ Read on AO3

#hermitfic #trafficfic #mcyt #AO3 #SnifferMyFeet #Collector's Fee #ridwriting #I just really like when Sniff is BABY...#Pixels Imperfect #fic announcement #Sniff and Pig #Tag a friend you also want to fuse with! (Do not do this)

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sabraeal · 1 year ago

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The Vagrant's Season, Part 2

[Read on AO3]

Written for @onedivinemisfit for her birthday! This is part of Annie's Shapeshifter AU; a prequel to this piece, filling in the weeks from when Obi arrived in The Valley to the start of mating season. There are a half dozen version of the song I adapt for Shirayuki in this, but I referred to two specific ones to cobble together this one: Marianne Lihannah's and Pernille Anker's. There is also one line from this folk song in the last scene!

“You’re a shy little one, aren’t you?” The vixen doesn’t stoop or sing-song, not like how the menfolk would when they saw him like this, just a shadow and a snout hidden amongst their shrubbery. A good thing too; if she shrilled the way the goodwives would, calling him a sweet pup and lille vennen and gutten min, he’d have skittered away faster than mice in a pantry.

Instead her voice is soft, riding the same rise and lull as her song, and her hands never pause in their picking. A practiced motion— reach, pinch, twist; reach, pinch, twist— that never falters, even when she slants him her curious glance. “I mean you no harm. There’s more than enough for the both of us here, if we only take for the needing.”

Ah, now that stings him, just a little. He’d seen her sorting out her tubers and berries that first time, plucking the bounty he’d meant to have all to himself until spring, and well— he’d scampered off, sure, half-scared of even a wilder’s shadow, but he’d come back too. Gave himself two good hands to pillage with and glutted himself on what she’d left behind, sure he’d find some other hole to weather out the last of winter.

Even with no stars yet in the sky he knew the footfalls that would take him toward Yuris, toward Tanbar, toward any place but that little glade and the vixen whose scent lingered on every leaf. And yet honey and bitter greens never quite left his nose, turning his paws in circles, spiraling him back to this very clearing, over and over. Spirit-blind he may be, but let it never be said Obi couldn't take a hint from one, when it was given.

“It’s warmer here in the sun.” Her tone is conversational rather than cajoling, and Obi’s tempted to take the invitation. Spread out his shorter legs, cramped from where he’s been camped in the bushes, waiting for her to finish her picking and sorting. Maybe even see if she might feed him from her hands, the way the young girls did at the village outskirts, too young to know the difference between a fox and a pup. “I know fur so fine as yours must keep you warm even in the snows, but it’s quite nice to have the light on you.”

She breathes in, misting the air with her exhale. “You can almost believe it’s spring.”

It will come soon enough; he smells it on the air even now, the promise of plenty enough to make his belly tremble. A few more weeks and he could eat his fill, strengthen up for whatever journey still laid ahead. Nice as it might be to survive on the outskirts of the Valley, growing fat on their game and forage, that sour scent in the north will mosey its way down here sometime this summer. Unpleasant as that dog smells, he’ll be needing to deal with the Keeper, trade with the other wilder in his pack. Maybe even mate, if he could find a vixen to stand him.

This vixen sits back on her heels, sigh as sweet as her scent wafting up from her lips. “Well, that’s that then. Guess we won’t meet today, little one.”

Toes curl beneath her, and with the sort of limber grace village girls lacked but wilder women possessed in spades, she bounces up to her feet, basket teetering on her hip like a smile does on her lips. “Maybe next time, then. Be a pity for neighbors not to get along with each other.”

When he steps out of the brush, it’s on two legs, one hand scratching at the nape of his neck.

“Get along,” he mutters, shoving a berry into his mouth. It breaks sour over his tongue. “See how long that lasts.”

There’s no convenient cave to make his camp, no abandoned lean-to left by a less wary vagrant passing through to warmer climes, but Obi does find a hollow not far from the vixen’s glade. An old yew, wider than two of him together could wrap around, beginning to rot from the inside. The sort of thing the volva would have clucked their collective tongues over, proclaiming that its spirit was sick and frail, a terrible portents for the future of their community.

But for him it’s only a tight squeeze on two legs and a cozy hideaway on four. Keeps him dry at least, and warm when the winds blow, though even as he drifts asleep, he hears the wood creaking like their voices, stay too long as a little one and you’ll be wild in truth.

It becomes habit to watch the vixen about her business; mostly small, letting his dark fur hide him among the shadows even as she tries to call him out from cover, her sweet smile more tempting than even the berries she offers. As it warms he sheds that skin more often, letting his legs stretch until he smells herbs on the wind and hears the first strains of her honeyed songs.

It’s inevitable that at some point, he forgets.

The dawn breaks warm that morning; the first tease of true spring before the spirits unfurl their sleeping tendrils and wake in truth. At least, so the volva say; Obi’s never seen a lick of them as long as he’s lived. Blind, they called him, but if it’s the price he pays to walk comfortably among the townsfolk each winter, he’ll pay it gladly.

There’s a tree at the edge of the vixen’s glade, an old birch so piebald it’s half shadow itself, its spiny little leaves coming in strong with the first hint of winter’s breaking. They don’t grow like this near the menfolk— there it’s straight little stands of bone-white trunks, but here, it’s a gnarled, knotted mess of a grandmother, so thick and bent from reaching out toward the light the glade promises that a body could get lost trying to find their way through its branches.

He sprawls his across one so thick it could be its own tree, legs dangling as wild as tangled ivy. Dappled in the sun’s light, it’s a cozy enough spot to let his blood warm up to the promise of the day. His head tips back, eyes fluttering closed, and ah, if he lets his mind drift enough, he can fool himself into thinking the volva are shuffling after him still, looking for that lazy boy, more scent than sense—

“The kit is placed in her cradle, sometimes crying, sometimes laughing.” Breath tumbles out of him in a snort, rousing him in shorter order than the vixen’s song, so close each word comes as a caress instead of a whisper on the wind. “Her mother cares for her, trouble, trouble, trouble.”

Already he reaches for his smaller body, eager to put fur over flesh and scamper into cover, but—

“Sleep now, sleep now” —copper flickers over bush tops, like a bullfinch buzzing over the brush— “in the arms of the mother tree, keep watch, o spirits, and hold this kit safe.”

For as many times as he has seen her, it’s always been with a little one’s eyes, limited to the muted grays and dunny browns they can create. Enough to get the idea of most wilders on whom he’s let his gaze linger, but this vixen— her hair alone is red and gold together, an autumn forest ablaze and yet tame beneath her hands. And when she lets her eyes skim over the brushline, looking for him…

Green. The same as the leaves that flutter between them, hiding him from sight. He hunkers down, belly to branch, and bides his time.

The vixen lingers longer as the weather warms, shedding her heavy cloak before she settles in to work, spreading it beneath her knees. There’s more for her to do now; with the snow near half melted, more greens unfurl between her visits, and the thin stopgap of winter berries turning into a bounty of sweet spring fruit. She sorts them as she works, each kind going into their own cloth before she rolls them up and tucks them into her basket, humming with satisfaction.

Most days he keeps her company as a little one; it delights her to coax him out step by step, creeping closer and closer to sharing sunlight. But more and more often, he lingers, watching her with wilder eyes as she goes about her business. Wonders, sometimes, if her pelt is just as bright as her hair when she trots about in her smaller form, if the gold would shine the way it does in the morning sun.

When she settles herself today— I shall give to my sister my seven gold rings, all under the linden so green— it’s with two baskets, one set in front and the other just behind. No difference between them that Obi can see, no reason one berry goes in one and not the either, just one plump little fruit, one after the other. Each one leaves juice smeared across her fingertips, so ripe his mouth salivates just thinking of how they’ll taste on his tongue, of how they’ll burst beneath his teeth.

“You know,” she calls out, her mouth hooked in the wryest of her smiles. “It’s polite to announce yourself if you’re going to linger in a vixen's territory. Especially a dog like yourself.”

Obi blinks between his branches, glancing from left to right, but there’s no dog for her to be talking to, not unless—

He glances down, right to where she stands, staring square at him through the branches. “You might introduce yourself at least. Now that I know you haven’t gone wild.”

His arms fold and his chin tilts, the way that makes most dogs shy from his company, let alone the wiser vixens. “I’m not the sort a vixen like you would want to know.”

Her jaw sets, even as that smiles pulls sweeter. “I think that’s up to me, isn’t it?”

Obi has to admit, she has a point there.

“This is my territory you’ve been lingering in, after all.” Her shrug is a soft bounce of her shoulders, but her scent presses heavily around him. Her territory. Unmated female she may be, but he is an unmated male, living on her sufferance. “I should know who I have the pleasure of sharing my patch with.”

“No point,” he sniffs, tilting his chin higher. “I’m just passing through.”

“For three weeks?” Her mouth twitches, not from fear. “I think that’s a little more than passing through.”

Ah, he hadn’t realized she’d be counting. “Just until there’s forage elsewhere.”

By the cock of her hip, he knows his excuse is as thin as tissue, ready to be torn under her able paws. “A name might be nice. I can’t just call you vagrant this whole time.”

“I have lots of names.” One for each year he’s wintered over among the menfolk. But they’ve always slipped off him like his fur does his skin, never sticking the whole season. Eirik had been the one he gave Goody, a smile on his lips, but she shook her head the way the menfolk always do, as if they already knew it doesn’t fit. “Which one do you want?”

The smile he gives her is all teeth, but she doesn’t flinch like she’s supposed to. No, she just furrows that brow at him, concerned. “The one you want to give me.”

His shoulder burns even beneath his hand. “I already said I wouldn’t be around long.”

“Fine, Vagrant it is then,” the vixen sighs, tucking her plants against her waist, tying them to the space under her belt. “I hope you have a nice day, Vagrant.”

It’s not until she’s gone that he realizes she left one of her baskets behind, but when he goes to call out—

Well, it seems he never got a name either.

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #shapeshifter au #the vagrant's season #my fic #ans #the two songs referenced in this are Gjendine's Lullaby (Gjendines bådnlåt) and Ye Ride So Carefully (I Riden Så)#Gjendines is a famous Norwegian milkmaid who ended up teaching her songs to Edvard Grieg #who eventually collected them into Opus 66. the last movement of which is this lullaby #if you play civ 6 you might recognize it 🤣#Ye Ride So Carefully is an older folk song- the one i link is not in modern Swedish but a much older version #i had to steer a lot of my folk song usage MUCH older since otherwise i ran into lots of like #singing about the village. and the sheep. and the barn! lots of fish too #which just wasn't gonna work for the little forest-bound foxes #if you decide to listen to the whole thing it's actually considered a song that may have predated Christianity in Scandinavia #and then was later changed to include Christian symbolism along with the old norse ones #there is a LOT that i could go into here about the meaning of the song BUT it doesn't actually have much to do with the story #SO JUST ENJOY INSTEAD 🤣

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mzmezzler · 3 years ago

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Alternative Title: SKZOO animals I'd pick, my magnum opus

Asks (mine) and tweets (not mine) I expanded on: [1] [2] [3] [4]

~ please note this is nsfw

Bang Chan - Wolf

Chris as a wolf is easily the most consistent association

He has been a wolf for years and his on and off stage makes this choice very consistent

In the sense of sfw, Chan would end up carrying himself like an overtly rowdy dog almost.

Like under-estimating his strength, claiming his favorite things, lots of sniffing and scenting, he loves holding you.

A total service top

He is often frustrated with rules since his instincts tell him to just take and dominate, but he just wants to be a good boy

Likes to be put in his place and humiliated till he's whimpering and whining with his tail in between his legs like a puppy

Would hate to admit but punishments where he's in a muzzle and having his dick slapping are his favorite

Minho - Cat

I don't care if he has bunny teeth, everything else about that man is a cat.

Literally everything lines up, go fight your mom about it

Anywho, sense he has a whole tsundere vibe going on, Minho would act as if he doesn't like your advances and coddling just to be betrayed by his own senses

Ranging from nuzzling and purring into your touch, ears darting in your direction when he wants to seem like he's ignoring you, or his tail moving on it's own...he would have a love hate relationship with these instances

Mainly because he doesn't really have to voice what he's feeling sometimes but he dislikes it for that exact reason

But on the other hand, he also loves it cause he can use these heightened sense to make sensory play literally intoxicating

Gags, nose hooks, blindfolds, etc

Anything to make his senses go the full mile as you over stim and force multiple orgasms out of him would be great

Changbin - Wild Boar

Now I don't care what y'all wanna say, the whole "muscle pig" or whatever concept should be expanded *refer to sources 3 and 4*

Unlike the simple pig, Boars are quite strong bodied, and have a coat of fur to maintain themselves in their environment.

It just fits cause: short, stupidly strong, very loyal and protective, etc. Plus when he has that scruffy look to his hair it just reminded me of their thick and unruly coats.

With the tendency to wallow when not on the move; since Boars are active animals it would align with the amount Changbin exercises, but in that vain Boars need to lounge and rest quite often

All of this could move into a strength kink or even being humiliated for wanting to be so emasculated because he is such a big and strong man

Is it bad I want him to oink and be degraded by being called a little piggie....

ANYWAY NEXT

Hyunjin - Ferret

Ferrets are said to be very cuddly, playful, and mischievous animals....just like Hyunjin.

His stature and personality match the pick so well

I can see the trait of borrowing as a neat one to get into since with this idea in mind paired with how ferrets love to collect makes me think that Hyunjin would love going through your things and would genuinely like sifting through your laundry when he misses you, much to your horror when you find the boy in a pile of your dirty clothes

Or just the idea that since Ferrets like to lick to clean and catch their owners attention, Hyunjin wouldn't hold back licking or nipping you with a pout just to let you know he wants you or wants to cuddle

And because he'd have a penchant for being clingy, those licks and nips would often morph into something more

His wiggles and squirming when you get him off~

Would instantly take a nap right after

Jisung - Squirrel

Now do I hate him as a Quokka...no. It's very fitting and fits how expressive he is, but look me in the eye and fill out a smut headcanon for a Quokka hybrid-

So next best, aka the best option is Jisung as a Squirrel.

He already collects his food in his cheeks, is skittish, and is very animated as a person

But with hybrid qualities, this would translate into lots of staring first of all

Squirrels stare to see if they need to run from danger, but once they get to know you it's also to see if you'll feed them

As a Squirrel, Jisung would be energetic, like stupidly so, but he would often go all to where he suddenly crashes and needs a hard nap or to go into a deep sleep

In an nsfw sense, Jisung would be a bit insatiable but he wouldn't be able to take a lot. Squirrels are easily scared and overwhelmed but if Jisung is wanting to work with that he could have a big fearplay kink

Would like to nest with you in his state of subspace if he goes that deep during a scene

needs lots of aftercare

Felix - Chick

Another very flexible member, Felix would quite literally fit any small, cute farmland animal at this point.

He fits a cat, bunny, baby cow, duckling, etc.

But I'll give this to JYP for once cause he's an adorable chick

To be a baby chick, Felix is in a bit of a "stunted state" which just has to do with his mind space sometimes but really has to do with his hair and mannerisms

With his hair being that same distinct yellow with a little cluster of tail feathers and the tendency to chirp when he's excited or needy

His headspace may go in a mock little space/dreamer state since he is a baby chick that has grown past what may be normal for chicks

he can handle himself but there are times he'll revert and really need help whether he's in sub space, sick, or really sleepy

In nsfw situations he would prefer gentle play and sometimes is surprised by how sensitive his tail feathers may be

also needs lots of aftercare

Seungmin - Puppy

ah yes...seungmo puppy

I honestly think he would be more subdued than Wolf!Chris

Where he is an overgrow, feral puppy; Seungmin is like the mellow, super cuddly pup with a very excitable personality at times.

Seungmin wouldn't like to bark too much, but he does have a tendency to do the whole excited panting when he's too excited or just having a lot of fun and doesn't catch it

he wouldn't want to seem lie a dopy dog or anything, but he's just so cute when his head tilts to the side when he doesn't get something

During scenes, Seungmin would be very flexible with you, choosing his role depending on the day like a true vers

But whether you're fucking him on a plush dog bed while his floppy ears are splayed out by his head or doing the fucking and panting into his thrusts with drool dripping off of his tongue

this would be the one time he wouldn't mind his canine habits and give into his carnal desires

Jeongin - Fox

Jeongin as a fox, is so good. Like he's a good boy, but also not

He gets into mischief far too often, but he tries

Foxes are so loving and affectionate, very much unlike what Jeongin likes to give off, but when comfortable with you he will let that gloss over and let his cuddly side show through

He has whiskers...Innie deserves the whiskers

Back to his mischief, sense foxes are nocturnal or at least are awake from late nights to early mornings, Jeongin would get into the most while you sleep

*cite first link* speaking of you sleeping, Jeongin gets into the most trouble then since he has a tendency to try to sneak under your covers and wiggle his way between your legs to nuzzle against your groin and feel himself calm down between your thighs

But even as this could be a comfort for him, his mind and body often has his intentions going south with him moving forth to lick, nibble, and suck along your inner thighs and over your underwear until you wake up and check under the sheets to see a grinning fox ready to wish you a good morning

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lillian-nator · 4 years ago

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please do more backyard au hcs this sounds lovely

PEOPLE AND AGES - Tommy (5) Kindergarten - Techno (11) 6th grade - wilbur (18) Senior - Tubbo (4) Kindergarten - Schlatt (19) Just Graduated, goes to Community college - SapNap (7) First grade - Punz (13) 7th grade - Dream (12) 8th grade - Gogy (15) Sophomore - Ranboo (6) Kindergarten - Fundy (15) Freshman - Niki (16) junior - Puffy (17) Senior - Purpled (5) Kindergarten - Big Q (14) 8th grade - Karl (13) 7th grade ----------------------- SPECIES AND RELATIONSHIPS (put into friend groups) - Tubbo (Ram, Schlatt's son) - Tommy (Racoon) - Ranboo (enderman, kind of a street kid) - Purpled (Purple Sheep, Dream and Puffy's younger brother) - SapNap (Demon, Bad's son, Punz's baby brother)

- Techno (Piglin) - Dream (Ram, Puffy's younger brother) - Punz (demon) - Gogy (Mooshroom) - Big Q (Duck) - Karl (Parrot hybrid)

- Wilbur (Blue Jay) - Schlatt (Ram) - Puffy (sheep - Schlatt's cousin) - Niki (fish? mermaid?) - Fundy (Fox) ----------------------- I think that Philza minecraft just slowly keeps finding kids in his backyard, and he slowly grows very attached to all of them Just like every afternoon his backyard is FLOODED with kids And he doesn’t understand why he’s the house everyone goes to, but he’ll feed them He just slowly finds himself being really endeared by each of them ------------------- And before he knows it, Phil’s warning SapNap and Ranboo away from the water, and balancing Purpled and Tommy on his hips And he knows all their allergies And all their favorite foods And he’s keeping track of the high schoolers grades, bringing Dream, punz, and techno to their games ----------------- CARPOOL SOCCER MOM Mr. Philza Minecraft --------------------- Dream: Basketball Punz: Football Techno: Baseball Puffy: Softball Small children: Baby Soccer -------------------------- - Phil keeps track of all of boys' games and practices. Because goddamn it, these kids deserve some sort of parental guidance - Dream, purpled, and Puffy don’t have present parents - Puffy had to step up to the plate - Ranboo’s a street kid - No one really knows if he has anyone - Bad just chilling in hell ---------------------------- Schlatt is really working himself thin, but he tries hard, he really does And everyone can see how much he loves Tubbo Sometimes Phil will wake up and see schlatt passed out on their couch. He got off at midnight But as soon as he gets home from work, Tubbo is immediately in his Dad’s arms Schlatt animatedly talking to the boy But you can just see how much love he has for his boy He’s just a bit too young to bare the burden alone ------------------------------ And the thing is, is that all of these kids are so like, independent Like Phil just needs to feed them And tend to the youngest ones every so often ------------------------------- I think it’s like musical chairs To see who’s sleeping at Phil’s house in the morning Like - who’s on the couch? An air mattress? Guest bed? Sharing a room with one of his kids? All of the small children like to pile around SapNap, who is also a small child, cause he’s warm Punz also always has children flocking him ------------------------------- Punz is also that teen who throws the kids in the pool he cant go into the water himself, prefering to lay on the grass and in the sun, but he does love just chucking kids in ------------------------------- Phil drives a beat up mini van. It’s baby blue It's always filled to the brim with passengers very dirty many crumbs has balls just thrown in it all the time Footballs, basketballs, baseballs, soccer balls it fucking smells, we all know it does Phil owns like 4 of those kid car seats despite only having one kid in that age group ---------------------------- Also if you couldn't tell Niki basically lives in the pool she's a fish hybrid so its a salt water pool instead of chlorine because its better for Niki --------------------------- Tommy, Tubbo, purpled, Ranboo, and SapNap play baby soccer its the best part of this au It’s so adorable, and Tommy picks at flowers the entire time Sometimes. Ranboo will come and entertain him for a little. Try and get him back in the game. He gives up when Tommy sits down tho Ranboo will more often then not join Tommy cause mmmm grass Tubbo is insanely competitive as a little kid we been knew though When he gets older Tommy gets really into it But as a baby He just chases bugs Plus he’s a raccoon hybrid, so shiny ------------------------ HE HOARDS SHIT UNDER HIS BED IS A MESS he as in fucking baby racoon Tommy whats the word for baby racoon small baby kit Phil 1000% calls him kit BABY RAMS ARE CALLED BUCKS FUCKING EVERYONE CALLS TUBBO "BUCK" THATS SO CUTE IM LOSING MY SHIT Things go lost? Go check tommys room Bermuda Triangle of a bedroom Very much like - Phil has to have a talk with him about it And he’s like “ I know you feel like you have to take them Kit, but they’re not yours” “If you want it, just ask me and I’m

sure we can figure something out.” Tommy also loses interest as soon as he gains it tho Tommy chitters at them They nod liek they understand and go “Uh huh, sounds mighty interesting Kit,” And then they pick him and let him climb around them -------------------------------- So much rough housing like SO much they're hybrids man Tommy also teethes ok. Chews on shit when his canines grow in so does Techno, and SapNap, and Punz (Punz and Techno's canines already grew in though, but they still chew on shit) The rams Rub their heads against stuff Head Itchy ------------------------------- A lot of Phil’s days off are just spent by the babies, just who are growing in hybrid traits He scratches Tubbo, sapnaps, and Puroled heads They’re all growing in horns Gives Tommy things to chew on Purpled. Never gets full horns. They are always little stubs just barely sticking out of his hair. His ears looks more human than ram too. Just for some reason never really grew into his hybrid traits And purple eyes He gets so upset about it too, when Tubbos horns outgrow his, because he’s older He’s a bit different. But it’s like being brunette in a family of blondes. It’s not unheard of He just is tearing up and Phil is just like “oh Bud, come ‘ere” They're like 8 And Tommy just gives Purpled the biggest hug, because Tommy is a sweetheart as a kid ------------------- I think that even the older kids wrestle Like obviously Dream, Techno and the rest of the middle school gang do Because they’re so fucking competitive Dream is so quick to just. Grab someone and wrestle them to the floor No warning But like, you’ll catch Wilbur and Schlatt jumping at each other Or Wilbur throwing Fundy over his shoulder Or anyone just man handling gogy ------------------- Phil gets to a point where he calls them all his kids And asks where they are when they aren’t At his house ------------------------ Puffy bringing them (Dream and Purpled) over after school. They go outside and play. Puffy sighs and collapses at the dining table. Phil silently hands her a coffee. “I’ll keep em busy” he says “you get some homework done” She looks up, and puts her head in her hand, “Dream has basketball practice in an hour” Phil just pats her on the back. “I got it.” ----------------- Also let’s talk about how much food Phil needs to buy Like even if it’s just lunch That’s like 15 growing boys He can afford it, He just has to watch out for allergies He buys so many fucking snacks man Whole damn store He goes through like crates of those little chip variety packs Tubbo only likes the crunchy Cheetos Tommy likes barbecue Niki likes salt and vinegar Punz likes Doritos He knows which ones they all like I’m just imagining Phil calling out for the kids And they’re like lining out of the kitchen Oldest to youngest so that Phil can help the little ones They can eat anywhere in the yard, but Ohil has the little ones eat at the picnic table They’re all dripping wet from coming out of the pool, and he needs to make sure they eat their fruit and popsicles, they have tons of popsicles. ------------------ Phil totally takes Dad tax Like a chip from every plate And a tatertot from each breakfast very dad of him to do ------------------- Not not Phil kissing each of their foreheads goodbye And “drive safe” And “have a good day" ------------------ He’ll still pick up Texhno And Dream and Punz, right by the armpits And tucks them into bed ----------------- Tommy when he gets wet He loves swimming but the poor baby: his fur It’s hard to get him in the water but once he’s in it’s hard to get him out Because he feels all heavy and sticky afterwards ------------------ Adventures in the woods TOMMY IN HID NATURAL HABITAT Small boy makes hidey hole You may be asking Does. Does Tommy crunch on the leaves He does Like on ever y single one Carefully -------------------- All of the little kids And even technos group Just bonk heads Because of the goats They all just do it Sometimes softly Sometimes roughly Techno always does it roughly tho Rough houser Dream doesn’t mind Makes it feel like he has a

herd Feeds a primal instinct for ram playmates Feeds a primal instinct for ram playmates - Small boy And puffy has outgrown it But a young piglin brute? Perfect playmate. ------------------------- AND THATS THE AU YOU'RE WELCOME

#long post #backyard au #tommyinnit #tubbo #wilbur soot #technoblade #philza #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #sapnap #benchtrio #SBI #Sleepyboisinc #dad!schlatt #schlatt #quackity #ranboo

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kozu-chan · 3 years ago

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fox! miya twins

the haikyuu commercial breaks and @suncelia-art 's art has me going crazy over the concept of fox!miya twins so hereeeeee we go :)

content warnings: uhhh nothing much. biting and a little bit of blood.

disclaimer - you don't own the miya foxes but your childhood best friend, kita decided to adopt and raise the twins and since you practically live with him, the twins consider you one of their own. with that said, let's start with when you first met them...

after a good two months of begging, kita finally let you go to his house to see the twin foxes he adopted. you really wanted to meet them after seeing pictures of how ADORABLE they are but kita said no at first because he wanted the foxes to get used to his home first.

since the miya twins are tall guys, i would imagine that they would be larger than the average fox. so when you first see them, you wonder "what is kita feeding them? they're HUGE!"

they're very wary of you at first. if they could talk, they would probably say something around the lines of "who's this, kita-san? why'd ya let this strange lady into our den?"

even though they're baring their teeth and growling lowly, you can't help but coo at them because HELLO?!?! small miya kits are in front of you and they look adorable!! and because their cuteness apparently makes us a little dumb, you reach out to pet their fluffy heads and plushy ears when the little golden haired fox bites your hand.

of course, you're in p a i n because bites hurt!! kita frantically apologizes and brings in the rubbing alcohol and bandages to tend to your bloody bite mark. "i'm so sorry! i should've realized that atsumu would've bitten ya'! please don't worry, he's vaccinated. no rabies or anythin'." you nod at kita's frantic apology and wince slightly in pain as he cleans the wounds. you quickly reassure kita that you're okay, telling him you should have remembered to be more careful. kita immediately scolds atsumu for biting you, making poor baby tsumu shrink back in embarrassment. when you glance at osamu, you're a little shocked at his expression because even as a fox, osamu seems a little smug watching his twin get yelled at.

after a few minutes, your poor heart can't take it anymore and you intervene, saying that tsumu's just a baby. you kneel in front of the twins again, this time a little more gentle. "hiya tsumu! hiya samu! i'm y/n, kita - well, shinsuke's friend. i hope we can be friends because you're so cute!" you reach your hand out, stopping just a few centimeters before them.

atsumu pauses for a minute. on the one hand, you got him yelled at even though you were in his personal space. but on the other hand, you called him cute and stopped kita-san from berating him for too long.

while atsumu is deciding if he should give in to your touch, osamu trots towards your hand and sniffs it carefully before perching himself in your lap. in his defense, you smell good, you're nice, you got his brother in trouble, and he feels bad for his bother brother hurting you. you absolutely lose it when samu nuzzles himself in your lap, squealing quietly and begging a shocked kita to take a picture of the cutest scene in your entire life. osamu is confused since you're squirming a little too much for his liking and he just wanted to be warm. he gives your thigh a small warning nip before curling up tighter in your lap, which makes you stop.

once you calm down, your hand gently strokes his fur. you keep going since osamu doesn't mind. in fact, he seems to be relishing in it. kita smiles and takes multiple pictures because he knows you would want pictures of samu snuggled on you.

suddenly, you feel a little nose on you. it's atsumu. of course atsumu is jealous of how much attention his brother is receiving - especially because he isn't receiving any!! you giggle and once again bring your hand close enough for atsumu to sniff and he gladly sniffs it, even nuzzling into your hand.

your heart? officially exploded because the miya kits are too cute 🥺 (we're not even going to talk about kita's heart because that man is internally sobbing in a corner because one of his favorite people is getting along really well with his two rambunctious fox children.)

because i'm lazy, i'm just gonna skip over to when the twins are about a year old.

after a couple months, the two foxes are used to you. pre-miyas, you always visited kita's house frequently. you were there so much that you even have your own room and set of keys! and now that they're comfortable with you, it's back to your regular routine.

"honey i'm home!" you jokingly sing as you open the door and put your stuff down, shoes being slipped off and pushed to the bin of shoes. your face pales a little bit as you hear the heavy pads of feet. quickly, your stuff is thrown on the couch and you shut the door, plopping your body down in the middle of the living room. "tsumu! samu!" you giggle as the two large foxes jump onto you, forcing your entire body onto the floor. they're licking and sniffing at you, gently nipping you to pet them as you tell them about your day. to others, it may be crazy for you to be talking to a pair of foxes but you think they're smart enough to understand so you keep doing it.

"and here i was thinkin' ya came here to see yer best friend." you look up to see a smiling kita.

"hey shinsuke! it's good to see you!" you smile and wave at him. that moment is extremely short lived since tsumu whines loudly, nipping and pawing at your hand. you and kita laugh at tsumu's actions. "you raised quite the whiny attention lover, huh?" you raise a brow at kita as you scoop atsumu into your arms and press a gentle kiss to his head. this makes osamu perk up and paw at your shoulder. kita raises his hands up in mock defense and shrugs, mumbling a "not my fault they're so attached if ya practically live here and spoil em"

you glare at kita. he chuckles when the two foxes stare at him in an attempt to copy you. "i heard that. i don't spoil them!" kita arches an eyebrow and surveys his living room, surrounded by toys, play structures, a shelf of treats, and even two identical large dog beds with mini pillows. the two foxes look at you and you sigh. "fine, i do spoil them. but by now, i'm just as much of a fox parent as you are. isn't that right boys?" osamu just snuggles into your lap and atsumu wriggles out of your grasp so he can run around, making you pout.

"if it makes you feel any better, i think you make a great fox parent" "shut up, kita!"

#haikyuu #miya osamu #miya atsumu #hq atsumu #hq osamu #atsumu miya #osamu miya #kita shinsuke #miya twins #miya kits #fox!miya twins #fox!miyas #fox!atsumu #fox!osamu #fox miyas are too cute #low key want some foxes now #too cute #protect miya foxes at all costs #can i get best friend kita too pls?

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sword-brainrot · 3 years ago

Note

I’m super glad to see you back and that requests are open. ^^ If it isn’t to much to ask, could I maybe get some relationship headcanons for Kogi and Kuwana (separately)? Welcome back and remember to take as much time as you need with requests! Lord knows life can get hectic and creators block can act up. So just be kind to yourself and go with the flow. ^^ 💜

I’m so glad to be back! It’s been a lot of fun writing since coming back. It’s also been super nice to have such kind people, like yourself, rooting for me and letting me it’s okay to take breaks! So thank you so much for the request and such kind words! ❤️

I hope these headcanons makes you smile!

Kogitsunemaru and Kuwana Gou Relationship Headcanons (GN Reader)!

♡ Kogitsunemaru is a very affectionate and loyal fox. Even before the two of you date and become a thing. He doesn't shy away from physical touch and actually really prefers it. It is the easiest way for him to get across his truest feelings. Every touch is gently and full of love. He does have a bad temper deep inside that he hides away but they would never come out towards you or grab you harshly. He would never be able to forgive himself if he accidentally hurt you.

♡ Kogitsunemaru does have a special spot that just makes him automatically relax, and that's his hair. If you play with his hair or brush it, he is putty in your hands. His eyes will close and he will lean back in your gentle, soothing motions. All his worries slipping away from him as the world begins to just shape around the two of you.

♡ He will also love to do anything with your hair! If you wish to him to wash, brush, or style it! He will feel so honored that you trust him so much to take care of your hair. Kogitsunemaru treasures hair very much. Not just his own. He will often comment how silky his fur is and how he often needs to groom it. In his mind, if you keep your fur(hair) clean and well kempt, you are a very good person in his mind. Also means he often shys away from those that do not take proper care of their fur(hair).

♡ He enjoys laying on your lap as you softly stroke his fur. That is his favorite spot in the whole world. It's probably the fox part of him that transferred over in his human sword form. Affection like that just fills his heart with joy and he does not care who sees. Kogi will be overjoyed to have your attention and a permanent smile on his face as he enjoys your touch.

♡ The last thing he really enjoys, other than you, is fried tofu. You can very easily have him on the fence about something and wave some fried tofu in front of his face and his brain waves suddenly just stops. He will agree to almost anything as long as you have that in your possession. It is a double edge sword, however. He will be so happy that you made/got that for him and follow anything you say... but it also doesn't last long. He will sneak into the kitchen when no one is looking and start to munch on all the fried tofu in the citadel. It does not last long as long as Kogitsunemaru and Nakigitsune are around. The foxes are ferocious about fried tofu.

♡ It is very easy to tease this poor fox as well. He leaves his heart on his sleeve. The swords will often use it against him. They will mention how someone has the most beautiful eyes in the citadel and just wait until Kogitsunemaru suddenly sighs and goes, "Ah, Nushi-sama."

♡ They all give him a teasing smile and just look at him as he realizes what he just said and blushes. He doesn't talk to them after and avoids them. It's normally Mikazuki...

♡ Your relationship would never be able to keep in secret because Kogitsunemaru is way too much in love with you and lets it slip any chance there is. He is complimenting you to your face and behind your back. He can't help it! You are just perfect to him!

♡ Big fan of petnames! He loves to call you sir, dear, miss, sweetheart, or my beloved.

♡ If you are ever upset/have things on your mind, Kogitsunemaru will offer to dance for you. He will do a traditional dance and may even tell a story through it. Anything to take your mind off whatever is bothering you. He may even tell you the story of how the fox spirit found the sword smith and he came to be since it was a popular folk story told through dance and plays.

♡ If you prefer to be held instead, he would have no problem with that at all. He will often times open his arms to you while he is sitting just in case you want to sit in his lap instead. His arms naturally wrap around you in a very protective manner, no matter where you two are.

♡ At night he enjoys when you lay your head on his chest so he can stroke your hair as the two of you slowly drift off to sleep but if you want to be held more, he will have you sleep on top of him and just hug you tightly to him as you sleep. He won't let any bad thoughts get to you! His name might mean small but there is a reason they gave him a strong body as a human, and that is to protect the one he loves the most.

♡ Kuwana is a very quirky person, to say the least. He will say things that will not exactly make sense to you and he will not explain what he means by it. You will have to be very understanding and accepting towards him. He is a very gentle person who thinks everything he says makes total sense. So when he tells you that the soil/earth told him something, you will just have to roll with it.

♡ Unlike Kogitsunemaru, who praises cleanliness, Kuwana is the total opposite of that. It isn't like he wishes to everyone to be covered in dirt (maybe) but you will see him all dirty often. The only time you will see him completely clean will be after a bath and right in the early morning before he goes outside. That will be the only time. Sometimes he will forget to take a bath, so please remind him!

♡ He is a very big workaholic. Mostly with farming. You will not see him most days due to him being so invested in his craft and working hours on end. If you wish to spend time with him, you will have to go find him instead of the other way around. Honestly, even when you get out there, he may not notice you right away. He is constantly tending to the field and talking to the soil. If you offer to help, he will gladly accept your help and teach you everything he knows.

♡ Kuwana is someone who keeps to himself often and doesn't talk much unless talked to first but you will see him overzealous when he begins to explain everything about agriculture and tells you every little detail about any plant or flower you may take interest in. A smile on his face and he will ramble hours on end. He is just so excited that someone is taking interest in his hobby. This is what really gets him to start to open up to you.

♡ As the two of you start to get close, he will make groundless threats towards you if you tease him too much. If you happen to poke him too much to get his attention, he may say something along the lines of; "Ugh... if you happen to wake up tomorrow morning buried up to your neck in the dirt, don't blame me". He would never actually do it but it is just to throw you off your guard. Sometimes small things just happen to get under his skin a little and he jokes it off with a small threat. Don't be scared, he really is like a big teddy bear and would never harm you.

♡ Sometimes, Kuwana will not show up for dinner. If you go searching for him, you will always find him in the field under a tree, fast asleep. Sometimes the sun gets to him too much and he ends up taking a nap after he finishes most of his work. He is a pretty heavy sleeper when he is totally relaxed in nature. Be sure to wake him up gently. He will either wake up rather easily to you and tell you good morning, not even noticing the moon now in the sky. Or, if he is still very tired, might pull you down with him and cuddle with you. Congrats, you are now cuddling with a very tall teddy bear... and also covered in dirt!

♡ Kuwana doesn't mind physical affection that much. He doesn't initiate affection too often but isn't opposite to it either. Most likely he will take you out on a picnic date and hold your hand as the two of you adventure off into the forest.

♡ He is a great cook! Especially with fruits and vegetables. He will learn anything you like to eat and prepare it for you to show that he listens to you even if he doesn't say too much. He will make sure to get it just as you like it so he can see you smile.

♡ If you don't know how to make flower crowns, he will teach you! He will make you a flower crown of all your favorite flowers (or the flowers he thinks match you the most if you don't have a favorite), and he will proudly wear the crown you make, even if you may not think it is the best.

♡ He will show all his brothers after the date with a smile. "Look at what Y/N made me". He will wear it as long as he can because he treasures it a lot.

♡ It is not a surprise that Kuwana is very strong physically but he will not act it. Every touch will be gentle. However, he will easily lift you with ease. Often times putting you on his shoulders when the two of you are alone and hanging out.

♡ He isn't just gentle with you but also with other creatures. He loves animals and will feed them when he has alone time. He also really likes insects. If you are scared of them, he will quickly take them outside so you don't even see them. He doesn't want them to scare you!

♡ Kuwana might not know exactly how to express his feelings towards you because he doesn't give too much verbal affection towards anyone but will subtly compliment you. "The soil says that you are very pretty and the soil would never lie."

♡ He also eats soil, please stop him if you see him trying to eat the dirt.

#Touken Ranbu #Touken Danshi #Tourabu #Touken Ranbu Headcanons #Touken Ranbu Imagines #Touken Ranbu x Reader #TKRB #TKRB Headcanons #TKRB Imagines #TKRB x Reader #Kogitsunemaru #Kogitsunemaru x Reader #Kuwana Gou #Kuwana Gou x Reader

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yoomiii123 · 2 years ago

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Recollections - Chapter 5

Recollections is a collection of interconnected OneShots that span Jasper's life with Alice. They are in the same continuity, but can be read as stand-alones.

You can also find this fanfiction AO3 or FF.net..

Summary: While trying to adapt to the animal blood thing, Jasper decides that it isn't safe for Alice to go into town alone. Not until she's proved to him, that she could defend herself [aka the time Jasper taught Alice how to fight].

Timeline for this chapter: This takes place pre-twilight. Jasper and Alice have met two months ago and are currently spending time together in a small cabin in the woods of Canada, as they get to know each other better and Jasper tries his hand at the vegetarian diet.

Word Count for this chapter: 2'211

Trigger Warnings: none

Rating: PG

---------

December 19, 1948 – Fort George, QC.

I glared at the carcass in front of me. The creature, some type of deer, stared back with dead empty eyes, mocking me. It had been a clean kill, quick and without struggle. Alice would be pleased that my shirt remained spotless. But then, killing had never been the issue.

A single red line ran down the animal’s neck from where I had ripped out a handful of fur. Alice had suggested it a few weeks back, when I was struggling to remove the last remnants of a fox from my teeth. It made the experience slightly less inconvenient, but unfortunately fur never had been the main issue either.

It was the taste.

Bitter and at the same time incredibly bland, it took all my willpower to force a few sips down my throat, even though thirst was burning like never before. I needed to feed. And still, I wasn’t able to finish a whole animal. The taste was just too much to bear.

Defeats had been small and fleeting in my second life, most of them of the emotional kind. Despite hating some parts of it, I was good at what I did. All the battling, the conquering, the feeding—it had come as a second nature to me, my scars a constant testimony to the fact that I never lost a fight. And yet over the last weeks, I frequently found myself bested. By animals, nonetheless.

It was not that I didn’t want to. If the acid scorching my throat hadn’t been enough motivation, Alice would certainly have been. I wanted to please her. And yet every time I sunk my teeth into one of the multitudes of animals she had suggested, my stomach started to rebel, and I was painfully reminded of the fact that this was not natural.

Vampires were made to feed on humans. To haunt them in the dead of night and drain the sweet elixir that gave them mortal life. Animals were meant to sustain our livestock, not us. Just like grass wasn’t meant to feed them. But it was possible. Alice had assured me countless times that it was. And so, I kept trying. And failing.

Like defeat, frustration had never been a companion to me before. It certainly was now.

I could hear Alice’s steps on the frozen snow a few hundred feet away. Strong and fast, yet still incredibly light. They were more spaced out than usual and met the ground in an irregular rhythm. She was skipping, I realised. Immediately, the image of her chasing her prey through the winter forest flooded my mind. Trees covered in ice crystals framing her path, shedding a few ounces of snow when she flew by. Eyes closed, her mind always one step ahead. Graceful and delicate, yet undeniably deadly.

She was the best of us. And I couldn’t even bring myself to finish one goddamn deer with fancy antlers.

xxxx

“How did it go?”

My musings were interrupted by her melodic voice as she joined me a few minutes later. I had sensed her coming, the incredible bubble of sunshine she always carried around gently pulling my mind into her direction. Her presence chased away the frustration. She was fighting my battles for me, without even knowing.

Her slender fingers brushed my right arm, and I carefully took her hand into mine, knowing the joy this simple gesture would bring her. I craved it. Perhaps this was what I had become: frustrated and selfish.

I fleetingly contemplated lying to her, but quickly discarded the thought. I couldn’t disgrace her with such insolence. Not after all she had done for me. All she still did every day. “I couldn’t finish,” I finally admitted, tossing the carcass another look and wishing it would disappear into thin air.

“It’s fine, Jasper. You tried, and you’ll keep trying. That’s the most important part,” she reassured, but her smile couldn’t fool me. I had felt the flicker of frustration before she was able to hide it.

“I’m sorry that I’m disappointing you.”

Alice rested her chin on my arm as she looked up at me. Her eyes were pure liquid gold now, no trace of thirst left in them. “It’s not that… It’s just— I wish Carlisle were here. He’d be able to help you so much better. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

I bowed my head, meeting her eyes halfway. “You are helping me, Alice. You have no idea how much.” I gently squeezed her hand, then straightened up again. “Plus, I like that it’s just the two of us right now.”

This brought a smile back to her lips and I could sense a renewed wave of affection wash over her. I basked in it, holding her hand tightly. It was a strange thing. She had probably seen moments like these a hundred times over, yet her emotional response to them was always heightened. I attributed it to the fact that she had waited so long. The anticipation must have been killing her at times.

“It’s really nice to have you for myself too,” she agreed and took a step back. I let her hands go. “However, I was going to ask you if you’d be okay on your own for a few hours? I would really like to go into town and get a few things for our cabin.”

My mind immediately sharpened, pushing her blissful emotions to the back where they could no longer daze my thoughts. She wanted to go into town. Alone. No. Not again. What if something happened to her? I would be too far away and too thirsty to do anything as long as humans were around. This was not an option.

Not unless I knew that she would be safe. Unless she proved to me that she could fend for herself.

Alice’s body stiffened and her expression went blank the moment my leg shifted back into the familiar stance of my past life. My arms shot forward only a split-second later, grabbing her— and finding nothing but air.

“Jasper?!” she screeched, but I had already lunged for her again, this time aiming straight at her throat. Her dress grazed my thigh but that was all I felt. Cold winter air met me in the spot where she had stood. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t gotten her this time. She had left her left side unguarded as she evaded my manoeuvre. My eyes had immediately registered the flaw.

Instinctively falling into a crouch and turning towards the rustling of her petticoat, my right leg shot out and swooped hers from beneath her. I had my arms around her waist long before she could meet the ground. Her neck was completely exposed, and I shuddered at the thought of how easy it would be to forever separate her beautiful mind from that delicate body.

I only held her for a split second before she vanished, leaving behind traces of confusion and fear. I was pleased by the latter. At least she was aware of how brutal the situation could have ended if it hadn’t been me. If I didn’t yearn to keep her safe.

I straightened my back and turned to look at her. Alice was now standing a good twenty feet from me, arms crossed and a frown on her face. She was not amused.

“Why are you attacking me?!” she demanded to know but I didn’t respond. I was much more interested in the answers to the questions that were running through my mind.

“Why didn’t you evade me the third time?”

“What?!”

“Why didn’t you move away? Didn’t you see it coming?”

“No, I didn’t!” she pouted. “And if you don’t explain what this is about immediately, I’m going to be very put off with you.”

“I can’t protect you when you’re in town. I need to know that you can fend for yourself. At least well enough to get away and come back to me.”

Alice dropped her arms and the anger disappeared just as quickly as it had flared. However, she wasn’t fully appeased yet. I sensed an unusual amount of annoyance overshadowing her cheerful personality. And she didn’t leave me guessing why for long.

“I’ve been on my own for almost thirty years, Jasper. I can take care of myself.”

“I know that and it’s unfortunate. But I didn’t know you back then. Now I do. And I can’t have my mate walking around unable to defend herself.”

Her face softened immediately, and a cloud of affection floated over the frozen ground in my direction. I couldn’t comprehend how the snow was able to resist the incredible warmth of her joy. But then, the snow didn’t share my gift.

“Your mate?” she repeated, her voice laced with disbelief.

I was surprised by how easily the words had left my mouth as well. Only a few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have remotely entertained the thought of sharing this ageless existence with someone else. Knowing what my depression had done to Peter and Charlotte, the idea of a companion—a mate even—was impossible at least. But then Alice had come along. And to her, the unreachable wasn’t just an idea. It was a fact. A future she believed in with her whole heart. And it had made me believe.

The countless hours we had spent in the cabin, her recounting the numerous adventures we were going to have and me basking in the incredible emotional atmosphere that accompanied her tales of our future, hadn’t just convinced me that it was possible. They had made me crave it. This future that once had felt more like a fairy tale than a possibility was now mine, and I was going to achieve it. I needed to achieve it.

I ushered the thoughts to the back of my mind. None of her visions were ever going to become reality if she was killed by a paranoid nomad. I needed to ensure that something like this would never happen.

“That’s what you saw, isn’t it?” I replied and moved closer to her. “I just want you to be safe, Alice.”

She brushed a few stray strands of hair from my eyes, smiling gently. “Fine, if it will make you feel more comfortable.”

“It will. Now tell me how it works. What did you see when I attacked and why didn’t you evade the third time?”

“I saw your first attack very clearly. But after that… You know how I told you that my visions are just possibilities? Initially, I just saw a couple of different outcomes, depending on how I reacted to your first move. My response then opened up numerous avenues for the second attack, and so on and so on. By the time you went for my legs, there were too many uncertainties. I couldn’t figure out which one you’d go with fast enough.”

I nodded pensively. “We won’t let it get this far then.”

She cocked her head to the side in confusion.

“We’re going to aim at you being able to finish on the first move. This way, you don’t ever get into the territory of all these uncertainties,” I explained. “But first, I’ll teach you how to fight. I don’t want you to rely solely on your gift.”

“That sounds like fun!” Alice agreed and earned a deprecating look from me in return. Fighting wasn’t and should never be considered fun. She, however, didn’t seem to mind my disapproval. Instead, she took my hand again and pulled me in the direction of the cabin. “Come on, let’s get changed. I can’t wait to see how I’ll fare against you.”

xxxx

Poorly, was the answer. I had her pinned within one or two moves every time she attacked me that day. Alice’s initial excitement additionally got clouded by me asking her not to use her gift. However, an unexpected drive sparked inside her simultaneously, keeping her interested. Even though I caught her time and time again, she just didn’t give up.

By sundown on the second day, she had me on my back for the first time. Sure, I had most of my attention glued to her moves, taking note of every single flaw and already planning on how to keep her from doing them again. Still, I was impressed.

“I got you!” she exclaimed, completely elated.

I smiled. “You have. But you hesitated your left hand, and your stance is still too narrow.”

“Again. I won’t hesitate this time,” she promised. And from this point on, she was unstoppable.

We trained most of the following days and nights, only halting for the occasional hunt or to rest for a few hours. Alice was like a sponge, gobbling up my corrections and comments, always ready to put them into action.

I was incredibly proud of the way she had committed herself to the training. And thus, when she talked to me about going into town again a week later, I let her go. She returned after a few hours, unharmed. The only monster she had encountered being five enormous paper bags that Alice somehow was able to fill to the brim, despite the small town only holding two shops, one of them solely selling fishing gear.

#jalice #jasper hale #alice cullen #canon compliant #jalice fanfiction #twilight fanfiction #twilight renaissance #pre-canon #Recollections

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sp00kworm · 4 years ago

Text

Under the Old Oak (The Lord of Darkness x Reader)

Pairing: The Lord of Darkness x Reader

Warnings: Adult Content

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The forest was vast in the Kingdom. The Princess had her champion, even if he was not truly hers, and the realm was restored to peace and warmth. The winter, however, still arrived, though it was not as brutal as it once was. The snow was light, and the air was bitter, but no gales battered the lands. It was almost a peaceful winter. You’d spent the winter mornings breathing the cold air, wandering the woodlands in search of foxes and squirrels as you scribbled ditties into the journal. Music was perhaps the only joy you had anymore, and even Princess Lili was amused by the folk tales. The winter, however, was gone, and so spring had overtaken the trees, bursting forth bluebells heavy with flowers and delicate snowdrops which swayed in the breeze. The trees were bursting with new buds of growth, light, new green leaves bursting from curled up shells, but there was not yet enough of them to block the sun and create a canopy. You let out a breath of warm air into the cool morning and watched it drift away into the trees before you avoided a fairy circle of toadstools and tutted.

“You are mischievous and rude.” You uttered to the giggling sprites which had laid the trap on the route they knew you took every morning, “And to think I bring you cakes!” You teased as you threw your lunch muffin in the air.

The sprites gasped and darted for the muffin, their sparkly magic light glowing as they each took a sniff and a nibble at the candied fruit decorating the top, “It was a joke!” They giggled as they dragged away the muffin into their mossy homes, “Thank you!” They jeered together as crumbs fell into your hair. You brushed the mess out of your hair before continuing down the mossy path, bouncing around the poisonous toadstools and circles of stones before you reached the stream. It was shallow with the lack of rainfall yet, and you hopped along the deep-set stones, wetting your boots as you went across to reach the soggy bank on the other side. The mud slapped against your boots and you laughed as you headed towards the old oak tree. It sat away from the bank; its roots protected from the constant onslaught of water which would cause it to rot in the silty dirt. With a sigh, you tugged your scarf tighter and sat back against the mossy bed at the base, breathing in the fresh air as the stream trickled on in the background.

After a few more moments of peace, you reached for your satchel and pulled free your journal from the leather bag with your pencil. Your hand harp came out next and you undid the cloth around it to play a little tune, filling the air with a simple set of scaling notes to check the tuning of the instrument. With a twist of one string, it was into the correct range and you opened your notes to look at the new song you have been working on. It was an old ditty, something that your grandmother had sung you as a child before she passed, and you were determined to rewrite the lyrics for the new legend. The old one was a sad tale, of the darkness being born and spreading sadness throughout the land, but you figured the new tale should be something joyful, with an ending that reflected the new era of light that had been bestowed on the world.

“What have I written?” You asked yourself as you opened the page the song was scrawled on, barely able to read your own writing half of the time. With a squint, you started to pluck at the strings, softly, letting the notes gently hang in the air as you opened your mouth to hum the words quietly.

“Under the old oak tree, boughs cast shadows of dark and silt.” You swayed softly, “In the shadow sits eyes of glittering green, watching a maiden of white and snow.” The harp sung with you as you gently continued into the old verse and rolled the words around in your mouth, thinking about how to change them.

“Darkness, temptress, wanted one true love. The Maiden’s honour was not his to tempt, and hero slayed him with the sword.” A couple of sprites listened quietly in the branches over your head before glittering and dashing down into the water to pluck at the new water clovers growing in the silt. With a hum and a flourish, you continued, “The fairest maid denied his request, leaving him in shadows and dust, only for her handsome champion, to part ways when the sun rose up.”

A rabbit snuffled at your boot as you continued, “Daylight blinds her heart, when demons sit afar.” With a soft whistle you continued on, tapping your foot to the beat as you blended into a soft, harp solo and finished with a gentle smile. The rabbit sat quietly, chewing on bluebells before it twitched, its eyes wide with fright as its ears flicked. It twitched again before bolting for the trees and its warren. You jumped with fright as a fox tore past you, hot on the creature’s tail, its teeth snatching at the cotton tail of the rabbit. With a gasp you looked away as the fox caught it by the back legs and tried to ignore the scuffle as it continued into the grass and plants away from you. There was a rush of fur and you looked on sadly as the fox carted its kill past you, dripping with blood. There were squeals in the brush and you tried to take solace in the fact that the mother was feeding her new pups.

Silence stretched out as you scribbled in the notebook, singing soft lines as the air grew warmer and warmer around you, stretching past midday. A few sprites came along to sit on your harp as you continued to sing about the end of the Darkness.

“Darkness sleeps in hearts of man, cruelty and hate combined he thrives.” You whispered, “Yet light blinds and he sleeps he sleeps.”

“A beautiful ditty.” A voice rumbled from behind you, “In details, however, it is wrong.” A beautiful timbre caressed your ears, deep and filled with wisdom of a thousand ages.

You clutched your handheld harp close and looked around the clearing, “Who are you? Where are you hiding?”

“Nowhere. I do not hide. You are sat in the shadows.” The voice purred, “Here I am.”

You flinched as you peered at the long shadows of midday, “The shadows? No creature is shadow.”

“I am no creature.” It purred, “I am the shadows. I am the darkness you are sat in.” It promised, “Can you not see me?”

You looked at the floor and then peered hard at the shadows of the roots before two burning green eyes appeared in the darkness followed by a great smile, pointed fangs snapping before the smile melted away again.

“I am weak here, but I listened to your song. I heard you speak of me, sweetest thing.” The green eyes burned as they watched you.

“Why are you listening?” You asked, fear clutching at your heart, “I’m singing a song of what happened.”

“And your song is beautiful. You speak of the Darkness. I am he.” The Darkness purred as though his mouth was pressed to your ear.

“The Darkness is dead and gone. He was destroyed.” You whispered to the green eyes, “Everyone knows he is dead.”

“Dead?” The creature laughed, “Darkness cannot die, for the folly of man is where I reside. Every human is cruel and foul, and so I will never see an end.” He promised with another hiss, the teeth snapping in the shadows and disappearing once again as he moved along the shadowed roots, peering out from another hole.

“Are you here to goad me…Am I to face the pits of your foul home?” Resolve held your words together as you peered into his burning eyes.

A great, deep chuckle resounded in your ears, and you felt the exhale against the hairs on the back of your neck. He laughed again at your shivering.

“Do you think me a liar? I have told you. I heard your song and came here to listen closer.” A black talon peaked from the shadow before curling back into the darkness.

“Isn’t lying your speciality, oh Lord of Sin.” You spat as you took a step back towards the sunlight.

“Lying? It is a sin, but I do not lie. Witches have pacts with me, I do not lie to them about power. I did not lie to the oh so fair maiden in your tale. She was to be mine. If she did that, she would have been a Queen.” He hissed from the shadows, “Do not twist my words, mortal. I too was lied to in that story.”

“Did you not deserve it? You corrupt the innocent and wanted permanent darkness and death. Those are hardly good things.” You took another step towards the light and the Darkness hissed at you with scorn.

“Think of another tale to sing. Your telling of mine is foul.” The eyes receded back into the shadowed roots before glowing, then disappearing, as the creature closed his eyes. There was silence. You rushed into the sunlight and peered around the clearing as you tried to catch a glimpse of the green eyes burning in the shadows. You rushed back for your harp and bag before making sure to run into the trees and back towards the town.

It got warmer as the week progressed, the leaves on the trees were beginning to unfurl properly and soak up the warming rays of the new sun. After a week you dared to enter the woods again, taking the same path you always did, jumping toadstools until you reached the base of the sprites’ tree.

“I brought you a biscuit.” You offered up into the branches, “They’re lavender and honey, you said you all liked that last time.”

The sprites chittered before taking the biscuit from your fingers and letting crumbs fall into your hair. You brushed at the crumbs and smiled.

“Have you felt anything weird lately?” You asked, “Anything untoward?”

The sprites paused in their eating to look at you confusedly, their little pointed faces confused, “We sense all manner of things. Black and white, light and dark. All are normal in our woods.” One sang before another grinned and tugged at your ear, “White as the unicorn, black as pitch. All is the same to the Fae.” She giggled and the rest sang a soft little rhyme about the fox and the hare.

“You’re all so useless sometimes.” You sighed.

The sprites paused in their dances, “We told you the answer. No lies we speak.” They sang again as they took the food and disappeared back into the moss and birdhouses.

You huffed at the branches, “Useless Fae and their riddles.” You kicked a pebble into the small stream as you slowly moved across the steppingstones.

The water had made new pond weed and sludge grow over the steps and you yelped as your boot slipped and landed in the stream, filling with icy cold water.

“Oh, by the Gods!” You cursed as you hopped along the rest of the stones. When you reached the bank, you hopped a little further, into the dryer dirt before standing on a great pile of moss and upturning your boot. Water splatted onto the dirt and you huffed again as you hopped to the oak and tucked your boot against the trunk along with your other, hoping the warmer air would dry the inside of it.

As usual, you opened your bag and plucked your hand harp from inside the fold, unwrapping the cloth from it carefully before listening to its gentle noise. The soft plucking of the strings rose up into the canopy and you smiled at the noise you had always loved. Your grandmother was the finest harpist you had ever met, and you wished you had her level of skill as you plucked at the notes for the song she had first sung to you as a babe.

“Darkness see the Light, on the break of day. Season turn cold to warm, with her never ending sway. Once the dawn doth break, the dreams are chased away. Darkness see the Light, on the break of day…” You hummed softly, plucking in a gentle cadence as the sunlight worked through the new green leaves, dappling across your face. Soaking in the glow, you let the song die on your lips as the birds sang high above, hidden in the mass of leaves from predators and prying eyes.

“Such a wonderous song.” A dark voice rang out from behind you. Once more, you startled and peered into the roots beneath the giant tree, “Sweet thing, have you come to sing for me again?” The Darkness purred from the depths, his green, burning eyes morphing into the burning orange flames of fire, “Or do you sing of me again to tarnish my name?” He teased as he raised a single claw before curling it back into the shadows, begging for you to come closer.

Fear curled along your spine, “I don’t sing for anyone. I sing for myself.” You promised as you turned on the moss to see the eyes burning into your skin, looking as though into your soul, “I would not sing of you if it were not the song’s lyrics. I have to play this for the town festival.” The confession ran like water and you covered your mouth with a gasp.

“Lies cannot be spoken to me.” The Darkness chortled, “Your songs are tales. Beautifully woven to enchant even the deafest of ears.” He complimented, “I would like to hear another, if you would be so kind?”

“Why should I play for you?” You asked, spitefully, “You almost ruined the world.”

The Darkness laughed again, “Ruined? I merely changed the order. There is balance in the light and dark, and one day that balance will be mine to destroy. The shadows will have their time once again. It is the order of things.” He observed mildly as you held your hand harp closely, trying to avoid his intense gaze.

“Would you destroy everything to have it?” You asked, curiosity burning away at the anxiety in your gut.

The Darkness hummed, “Perhaps. But perhaps it would be best to turn the humans to my own side.” He grinned, as though a new nefarious plan was forming in his mind, white teeth glittering in the roots of the tree before he spoke again, “Play for me little harpist. One more song, I beg of you. The sound is like nothing I have below.”

“And what is it you have below, Darkness.” You asked as you opened your book.

His smile faded, “Screams and bellows. The sound of the foulest torture. There is some music in my power, but it is not that of…” His mouth moved before he spat the word, “Innocence…or purity. There is little joy in it.”

“You do not lie…do you?” You whispered as the eyes burned.

“Why would I lie about such things?” He spat, “Sing for me, please. Play a song.” There was tiredness in his voice as his mouth disappeared into the blackness of the shadows and dirt.

“I can sing for you.” You nodded gently and sat before the shadowed roots, ignoring the burning orange gaze as you remembered the next line of the song.

“Behold the singing song bird, watch the bubbling stream. Before the dawn breaks, naught can be seen. Dreams of sorrows past, chased by the burning light. No more will they bother you, despite the aching blight. Darkness see the Light, on the break of day.”

The Darkness’ eyes lowered with the song, his gaze low and tired as his claws slid back into the roots, disappearing into the dark chasm of his own shadows.

Your voice came to an end, and you opened your eyes not to see the Lord of Darkness nor his gaze. There was silence as the leaves rustled over your head, flapping against one another as you sat, staring into the roots, wondering where the creature had disappeared to during your tale.

A groggy noise of discontent sounded, “Why did you stop singing, song bird?” He asked, a single eye peering out from the shadows.

With a smile you chuckled, “I thought you had fallen asleep.”

The Darkness smiled, fangs exposed as he laughed, “I was close. Your music is gentle, like a Mother’s song to a babe.” He complimented, “You surely sing for the court?” He asked.

A blush graced your cheeks, “No, I sing for myself.” You reaffirmed, “One day I will maybe share my songs with the world…but not for now.”

The Darkness watched you for a moment, “I could make it happen.” He tempted softly, “There would be no one that didn’t know your name.”

“I won’t fall for your temptation.” You huffed, “I would rather sing and make the children happy than be forced to entertain the King and his finicky court.”

“Then perhaps a world without a King is what you truly desire?” He asked with another purr.

“Don’t twist my words against me. I want nothing from you.” You told him as you laid your harp back in your bag.

The Darkness opened his other eye, “Nothing? After such a graceful performance…” He tutted to himself before he twisted a finger into the dirt and you watched your boots wiggle, as though there were invisible feet within them, “Consider this a small token.”

You watched as your boots marched their way over, under the influence of some sort of magic, before jumping and landing in your lap, cosy, lined with rich fur and utterly bone dry. They shined bright with wax polish and smelled as though they were new.

“I…” You stuttered, “I can’t accept these. They’re made for royalty.” You brushed the fur inside.

“Take them. It is payment for your music and for your craft. Wear them well, little bird.” He purred before you watched his eyes grow tired again, the orange turning green and disappearing into the roots randomly before he hummed and disappeared entirely, “I will see you again.”

“Yes…See you next time.” You whispered as the roots twisted and knotted back into place, the Oak hiding where the creature had once been beneath it, “Maybe I’ll have something new for you.” You pulled on the heavy boots and smiled at the warmth and the fit before rushing back over the stream.

You jumped from the rocks and smiled as you looked back into the trees. The sprites bolted from their homes.

“Darkness clings and darkness takes hold.” They whispered in your ears, hidden along your coat collar, “Temptation is the beginning of sin.” They rushed before ripping through your hair, “Careful little one. Darkness tempts in other ways.”

“What do you mean?” You asked but they disappeared up into their homes, leaving glittering dust behind them. You looked up and listened to the silence of the birds before rushing to make your way home before the darkness decided to set in. The sprites cowered in their moss homes as the night rolled in that night, and the wolves howled beneath their trees.

“Does the bird’s song ever wake you?” The Darkness asked from his shadowed hole, his eyes watching your fingers move over the harp, “You only come to sing as the Sun raises to its highest point.” He observed, “Does someone else occupy your time?” He asked with a hiss.

“No.” You plucked a string particularly forcefully, “I’m busy in the mornings.” You confessed, “I have to cook and clean for myself now.” You felt tears well in your eyes.

“What troubles you?” The Darkness asked, the tips of his claws peaking from the roots.

“My Mother passed.” You confessed, “She was all I had left.” You whispered and the Darkness reached out before recoiling from the sunlight with a howl, forgetting himself as his eyes flared with anger.

“Does her passing not anger you. Such sorrow is ill-fitting. I have heard your song in the night.” There was a flicker of something in the shadows, “Can I not offer you some solace, bird?”

“I want nothing of your tricks, Darkness.” You spat, “I want to remember her in her chair, not as a walking corpse.”

The Darkness recoiled at your spite, “I offer no such thing…Only my company. If you would have it?”

You did not keep your shock to yourself, “Truly? You won’t trick me and drag me away into your hellhole?”

He laughed, “No, sweet thing. Where would the fun in that be?” The creature teased before tugging at your bag, “Sing your sorrows. Soon, your heart will not feel the pain anymore.”

You took hold of your bag and took out your hand harp, tightening one string with a watery smile before you sung late into the afternoon, beginning the process of healing your own heart.

“Will you stay a little longer?” The Darkness asked as the sun reached to dip below the horizon. You’d been visiting for so long that you couldn’t remember the time before you did. Your days creating were much more fun with someone to critique your lyrics.

“It will be night-time soon.” You muttered over the rain which pattered against the Oak’s leaves. You were protected underneath it’s canopy, huddled in your fur, your boots tucked against you as you looked out at the rain. The stream bubbled with fresh new water, rushing harshly against the rocks.

“Night is just the day without light. What troubles you so that you cannot walk in it? There is nothing to harm you in these woods.” He offered, eyes flickering with green jealousy.

“There are wolves and mean sprites at night. Even forgetting that, I can’t find my way back without being able to see where I’m putting my feet.” You joked as the Darkness’ fingers tested the space outside of the roots, his claws curling into his own palm.

“Wolves are not after prey such as you.” The Darkness rebuked, “If I were here, no evil is greater than I. We would be alone, to enjoy the silence.”

You noted the whimsical tone of his statement, “Alone?” You asked gently, “Alone to do what? I have no songs about the night.”

He did not miss the joke, “All I would ask is that you sit, and talk with me.”

The rain hissed as it poured against the trees and greenery. You were both quiet for a moment as you digested his request.

“Perhaps not tonight.” You replied, “I…”

“I do not need an explanation.” The Darkness’ tone was harsh, “I understand that your kindness does not go that far.”

“This is not a kindness. I do not pity you.” Taking a handful of leaves, you began to peel them from their stems.

“If not pity, then why do you still come?” He asked with a snarl, his pointed teeth clenched.

Peeling another leaf apart, you wondered why you still entertained his request, “I suppose that I have come to enjoy your retched company.”

“You flatter me, harpist.” The anger seemed to dissolve from him, “Then why not come, entertain me in flesh, tonight?”

“Not tonight.” You smiled as you stood up, gathering your harp and shaking the sticks from your coat, “I heard there will be a storm soon.”

The Darkness moaned softly in the shadows, “Yes. Such a wonderous event. The fear, the agony and the unrest to the land. A time for my shadows to spread further.” He purred inside the roots before his burning gaze rested on you, “Meet me then, in the thunderstorm, I beg of you, my sweet.” His claws peered from the shadow before receding.

The taste of blood covered your tongue from biting your cheek, “When?”

“The day after next.” He whispered as you dipped your hand into the roots. The cold touch of the shadows made you shudder before there was a press of something to the back of your hand, “Wear something to dance.” The Darkness hummed before his lids grew tired and he disappeared into the roots. You jumped and took your hand back as the oak tree groaned and moved back its old roots, hiding the opening once more.

Thunder crashed for most of the next day before the real storm swirled over the land, black clouds twisting in on one another, rolling and spewing torrents of hammering rain. Wind blew down the mountainside for most of the morning. Carefully you chose and outfit in the afternoon, shuddering as the rain bounced off your windows, twirling in the fine silks and singing with the harp clutched in your hand about angering the mother of the skies. You watched the sun set as you ate, spooning your food into your mouth as fast as you could manage before you stole away into your room to grab at the large coat. The rain lightening as you stepped outside, your harp protected in your bag from the torrents. With a smile, you bounced into the woodlands from the cottage’s backdoor, mouth open wide as you sung once more.

“Rain and wind, thunder and howl, across ye plains. Birth of life, green and root, into the soil ‘gain. As the sun sleeps, douse the land, with water o’plenty. Watch and wait for Mother to sing, about when the larder was empty.” You sang as you rushed into the woods, listening in fear for the wolves as the rain slowed to a drizzle. Your hood flew from your head as you rushed beneath and over the homes of many animals, hunkered down away from the foul weather.

Suddenly, you were laughing, twirling into the stream as the rain soaked your hair and the water filled your pumps. A great thunderous crash made you face the sky, looking into the clouds as blue electricity singed across their surface. Another crash was accompanied with a flash of light and you grinned at the power of it before jumping from the stream and throwing your coat off, the silks attached to your shoulders flaring as you plucked your harp from your bag and played over the rain and thunder, spinning in the moss beneath the Old Oak.

“Sweet harpist.” The Darkness purred and you opened your eyes as black silk and cloth rippled in front of the tree, the roots closing with a groan of upset behind his giant figure. The clothing covering him draped over his giant, ebony horns, falling in waves that rippled with the wind. You peered into the hood and saw his orange eyes. His eyes watched you, panting, sodden with the rain falling from the sky. His clawed hand reached from within the cloth covering and you span from his reach with a gentle pluck of your harp.

“You tease me.” He offered before another thunderous crash sounded, along with his laughter. The cape hood and cape around him billowed again in the wind, the encrusted jewels clinking, and you looked to see as the silk around his arms in two cuffs ripple gently. His form was interchangeable, and you watched him float before two cloven hooves thudded to the ground from beneath the bottom seam of the cloth.

“Are you going to dance with me, my lord?” You asked as you span to play your harp away in your bag, thrown beneath the tree.

The Darkness nodded from within the hood and offered his red, clawed hands once more, “Let us celebrate this night.” He rumbled; his voice distorted as the thunder rumbled again overhead.

In his palms, your hands were dwarfed by his own, and you held onto them tightly as the Darkness drew you in closer to him, his silks blending with your own before he led you around in a small circle, one arm outstretched and the other placed at your hip. The cadence of the rain grew louder and louder as you both twirled past the oak tree and through the woodlands, trampling flowers and brambles as you span around in each other’s embrace. Rain soaked you as you laughed and ducked beneath his arms, and the Darkness howled with laughter as the thunder crashed and boomed overhead. A lightning flash revealed his red face, sharp, angular, and long with a mouth of white teeth, his incisors long and sharp. He leaned over and you reached to catch his face, pausing your dance in a great meadow which was soiled and boggy with water. Gently, you took hold of his cheeks, running your wet thumbs over his boiling skin. His hooves sunk in the mud as he leaned closer to you, staring into your eyes as the rain dripped from his great horns.

“I suppose you think me a monster?” He asked as the thunder rolled above you both, drowning his bitter laughter from your ears.

“You’re the Darkness. You are not man nor monster.” You whispered close to his lips, “You are balance and sin.” It seemed like your tongue was loosened, “The sprites warned me…about temptation but you have given me nothing but comfort. There has been no agony, only laughter.” You reached to his pointed ears and closed your eyes as the rain rushed over you both.

The Darkness raised his great cloak and shielded you both from the downpour as his lips pressed against your own. It was gentle at first, hot and intimate, before his teeth nipped at your lower lip and his pointed tongue pressed into your mouth, hot against the coldness of your own mouth from standing in the rain. The Darkness wrapped you tighter beneath his cloth, the silk brushing your damp skin as one large hand cupped your face, his thumb tipping your head higher, and his other skated down your chest before cupping the small of your back.

The kiss was long and passionate, filled with the decadence of the night, some things that the light simply could not offer to you. He pulled himself away from your lips, leaving you gasping for air as you recovered, wrapped in his great cloak.

“I feel…many things, when I am with you, little one.” The Darkness confessed into the folds of his cloak, his eyes looking into your own, meeting them with a confidence you had never seen before in an courter, “I would make you my ruler.” He confessed as he pressed your hand to his hot chest, underneath the cloth.

You looked up at him as rain dripped from his horns and over your own face, dripping down the bridge of your nose in speedy tracks, “I don’t want to be a master.”

“Then play for me, for all time. Play music and inspire my name into those once more.” He begged softly, clutching your hands before he hissed, the thunder crashing overhead once more.

“Can we be together?” You asked in a whisper, fear making your fingers tremble.

“For eternity.” He promised, “Beyond and after the ends of time. Sing songs of Darkness and Love for me.”

“Eternity…”

There was another rumble, and you took his hands again, before the lightning struck a tree in the distance sending fire and wood exploding into the sky. His hood disappeared with a gale of wind before the cloth and silk wrapped around you once more and the Darkness hefted you into his arms, bleeding black with shadows and darkness as the storm and its plight fed him power. You leaned back in awe of the sky, rain burning your eyes as the clouds rolled above you. A great growl sounded from your lover’s chest before he laid you back against a great stone tablet, made for the harvest ceremonies of the fae. Your back met the stone gently before the silks slapped and stuck to the rock and you moved backwards as a furred leg rested against the edge. Red and black merged on his skin as he took hold of the silk and pulled you to the lip of the table, his eyes hungry for a taste of you.

“Can we do this here?” You asked, breath escaping you as his huge form covered you, the black material shielding you from the rain as he stole another deep kiss.

“Yes. Anywhere. Whenever. I adore you.” He heaved as he pulled away, his words heavy in the air as he leaned back to tear as your clothing, exposing perfection to his gaze, “You are temptation.” He uttered with another heavy groan as lightning struck the earth again, “Glorious Sin.” He moaned as his tongue laved at your neck, tasting the flesh, “Surely this is what innocence tastes of. Purity and…” The Darkness broke off into another guttural moan as he kissed down your chest, pressing his tongue to your nipples, enjoying them as they hardened into sharp peaks. His hot breath pebbled your cold skin and he moved over your stomach, squeezing, and enjoying himself as he reached the dip of your hips. His tongue dipped to wrap around you, and you writhed against the table as rain crashed against the hillside.

#legend 1985 #darkness x reader #the lord of darkness x reader #the lord of darkness #the darkness #darkness #legend #reader insert #demon x reader #monster x reader #devil x reader #gender neutral reader #monster boyfriend #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #monster bf #monster x human

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years ago

Text

The Miys, Ch. 140

And here we have the last chapter of the Food Festival! This is one part I was pretty excited to write - The Closing Costume Party. I wouldn’t have been able to get this one squared away without @baelpenrose and @charlylimph-blog... Both of you caught a few things I didn’t that kept it from making sense from a reader perspective. So thank you both, very much.

I growled softly to myself as I twisted my arms behind my back to pull on my costume. Normally, I was more than flexible enough, but the amount of leverage I needed right now just wasn’t happening unless I was willing to seriously dislocate something. Dropping my hands, I frowned as I jiggled my arms a little to work feeling back into my elbows.

“You really should have fitted this sooner than now,” Conor laughed against the back of my head as he pulled the laces tight on the blood-red corset. Getting one made while laying low and avoiding Hannah had been a nightmare, but it was going to be worth it. I just knew it.

“You just wanted to see me try this entire costume on sooner,” I joked as I felt everything fit snugly - but not too tightly - into place.

Maverick flicked a lock of my hair over my shoulder and positioned it just-so. “It’s not his fault that you couldn’t fit this over your scrubs and have it work for tonight.”

“Who wants to see a corset over scrubs?” I scrunched my nose at the thought while smoothing my sleeves and adjusting my collar. “So far so good?” I asked, slightly louder.

As a credit to their maturity regarding the matter, both men looked me over earnestly before glancing at each other. Conor finally broke the silence. “Aren’t the slits in the skirt a bit… high?” Maverick whispered in his ear, and an expression of utter comprehension glowed on his face. “Oh! That’s… Love, that’s clever.”

I grinned hard enough to cramp my jaw. “Thank you.” Despite how daring the outfit looked, there was exactly zero chance of any wardrobe malfunctions more serious than a hole in my stockings - a near-indestructible nude bodysuit under everything made sure of that.

“Your turn, now,” Maverick insisted, eliciting a groan from Conor, who he had turned toward while brandishing eyeliner.

“Isn’t it bad enough I let the two of you do this?” He gestured at his hair, which was styled within an inch of his life and would sustain an EF4 tornado with minimal loss of glitter.

“Nope,” I popped, still smiling as I sat down to put on my boots. Parvati and Hannah had envisioned tonight to be a sort of return-to-our-roots in a very feral, primitive way, complete with costumes. “We’ve been imagining since before we could cook,” Hannah had pointed out. Between that and the multiple hints that I wasn’t capable of costuming myself, I had gone a bit more over the top than I had originally planned. Hence the corset, the boots, Conor’s hair… although the leather pants the guys were wearing had been decidedly Maverick’s idea and I resisted the need to fall at his feet in gratitude.

Once we were finally costumed, we managed to arrive just-fashionably late to the last hurrah of the Festival. I don’t know who gaped harder - us at the party, or the people who managed to recognize me when they saw me leading the men in. Parvati’s incredible, winding mural was noticeably weathered and patchy, giving the overall atmosphere a post-apocalyptic feel. The only noticeable lighting came from the braziers, and deep, almost subsonic music thumped in my chest, driving my adrenaline just high enough to overwhelm my anxiety.

My nose led us over to the first stall of the night, the smell of charring meat fitting the tone. Per a previous discussion around our costumes, I did not reach for anything but instead Conor took my portion and fed it to me - his idea, this time, though Maverick had readily agreed. It was just enough to set off a few murmurs before I heard a familiar laugh cut through the air.

“Councillor Reid!” Jokul’s voice crowed, turning our heads his direction. Warmly, he clasped my hands when offered, trembling with the laughter he was trying to suppress. “This is an unexpected but pleasant surprise.”

I took a moment to take in his fur trousers and tunic, with rough metal covering vital areas. “The dirt is a nice touch,” I offered, squeezing his hands in greeting. “And Ivan! Well done, sir!”

Ivan rubbed the freshly-buzzed back of his head and grinned. “He actually already had the furs, I just made the armored parts.”

“I meant all of it,” I admonished softly, waving at his work throughout the event.

“Antique, yeah?” Conor asked, gesturing to the furs both of them were wearing.

To his credit, Jokul scoffed. “Absolutely not. Quality synthetic.”

“Don’t let Hannah find out.”

A silver brow arched high enough to impress even Tyche. “Who do you think I commissioned?”

“Clever boy.” I winked at Ivan, eliciting a grin.

In response, Ivan did a runway-twirl, his fur kilt flaring just slightly. “What do you think, Councillor? Can I pull it off?”

With the cheekiest grin my soul could ever manifest, I stared him down. “I think I am the wrong person to ask that.” Even in the dim light, I could see Jokul’s face turn bright red.

“I smell goat,” Maverick interrupted, entirely off topic and completely unabashed.

Ivan’s nose twitched. “Oh, you’re right!” Sniff, sniff. “And it’s on a spit! Let’s find it before it’s gone!”

With that, he snagged Jokul’s wrist and dragged him less like he was an easily two-hundred pound man and more like he was a kite. When I snickered, my former enemy leaned over and murmured “I like the chains, very nice touch.”

I shook the wrist that connected to Conor’s belt and whispered conspiratorially. “Your idea, really. You were so convinced I was leading the entire Ark like this…”

He had the decency to snort. “Seeing it in reality, I was a complete idiot. But it’s quite poetic, and I like it.”

“Poetic?” I asked as I tried to keep pace in the six-inch heels I had elected to wear.

“Are they chaining you down, or are you leading them by their gonads? Or, perhaps, are they saving you from yourself?” He gave a very pointed look at the delicate chains going from the shackles on my wrists to the links attached just above Maverick’s and Conor’s hips.

“Saving me, definitely.” My confession was unashamed and completely sober, the result of the primal music and smells surrounding me.

“Gods agree, someone needs to.”

I didn’t have time to argue before we arrived at the source of the enticing smell - a Jamaican barbecue vendor, who had oxtails, saltfish, and…

“Grilled goat!” Ivan crowed triumphantly. As he started handing out portions from the dancing, grinning vendor, he raised an eyebrow when he noticed that the portion he tried to hand to me was intercepted by Maverick first, and then fed to me rather than feeding myself.

“Not my idea,” I managed around an insanely delicious bite. “Swear.”

“Kink tomato,” he insisted, holding up his hands.

Conor almost choked laughing. “Not our kink either, mate. Just set dressing for the Queen over here.” Taking another bite, he winked at me.

“Ah, Conor’s idea then,” Jokul nodded sagely before erupting in the closest thing to a girlish squeal I could imagine coming from him. “Miss Harper, we’ve been looking for you!”

Shit, I thought to myself. I hadn’t thought of what Charly would say when I discussed this idea with Conor and Maverick, and I was just realizing it was a monumental oversight. Plastering a smile on my face, I turned in the direction Jokul had shouted -

Only to be confronted with what looked like a fox with antlers, a rakish Anansi, the Queen of the Dead, a blind healer, and… a walking shrine? I wasn’t sure what exactly Arthur was dressed as, but I could clearly identify a shabby tweed suit, his sword, a tome that I hoped was faux-moldy, breastplate, shin guards, along with various tchotchkes that looked like they came from high-schoolers and were a bit too beat up to be faked.

“Arthur, what are you?” I asked. Where anyone else would find it rude, I knew my bluntness would be either appreciated or ignored entirely.

“The Ghost of Classes Past.” He swept into a near-Shakespearen bow, gesturing at the bits and bobs that adorned him. “Humans protect, and we mourn those we could not to ensure they live on in memory.” The thump of the music did not change, but his costume gave it a sepulchral tone, like a dying heartbeat.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, the antlered fox bounced familiarly before looking at the Queen of the Dead. “You did a fantastic job on their costumes! They look amazing!” Her antlers were, of course, somehow illuminated from below, but damn me if I could figure out how.

Despite the fact that I knew damned well that Tyche wanted to erupt into laughter at the suggestion, she managed to, quite impressively, tamp it down to a savage smile of silver fangs and blood-red lips. Flapping a hand at myself, Conor, and Maverick, she gave her bell-like fake-laugh, fully in character. “Oh, I had nothing to do with this. Darling Sophia and her merry toys conceived it all on their own. This is the first time I’ve even seen it, darling.” She turned to me, tipping her chin down in respect. “Well done, dearest sister.” Tyche was on peak display, with kohl lining her glowing grey eyes, a black bodysuit covering her from collar to feet, fitted vest and cardigan vest, all partnered with a skirt that could be ten inches thick or ten miles of ribbon - who knew with all the darting and layers? Not me, but I was surely impressed with what looked like ten miles of black feathers flowing from her waist to her hips.

“Why, thank you, Your Majesty.” I swept my leg back in a daring curtsy, forcing Conor and Maverick to smother their laughter at Jokul and Ivan’s faces.

“Ma’am! Ma’am ma’am ma’am!” Charly demanded as she pulled me upright. “You blushed at the concept of kink night, and here I find you leading your men around by their hips!”

I tossed my hair and winked at Jokul. “They aren’t being led, they are saving me from myself.” To Charly’s credit, I did look one deep breath from embarrassment - a black dress with red trim, sliced from floor to ribs and collar to navel, over what appeared to be just fishnet stockings and cavalier boots. The only thing, visibly, retaining any sort of deceny was the corset sealing me in the dress. To go with it, I sported chunky, silver cuffs chained to both Maverick and Conor. Ducking in, I whispered, “I probably will have to be cut out of this bodysuit, no worries on me flashing anyone.”

“Ooooo… well played, madam, well played,” she cheered, twirling me around, forcing both men to pivot with me, laughing, before giving me a very concerned look. “How fucking tall are those?” This was clearly directed at my heels, which she was staring at like a shark presented with a steak.

“Six,” I admitted. “But I did pointe ballet for a little while, so… This isn’t that bad.”

Maverick ducked into the center of the circle we formed. “They’re a full size too big to allow for swelling and she has the toe boxes lined with impact foam.”

“How the hell else am I supposed to wear these things?” I asked with a glare that had him standing ramrod straight and barely restraining a laugh.

Tyche, to her credit, patted my shoulder. “While sitting. Or, if you have to stand, with a platform in the toe.”

“No shit,” I hissed, setting the mummified healer doubling over in laughter. “But I’ve done enough damage to my feet, thank you, so… there may be foot braces involved.” One of which was currently digging in just in front of my heel, which I made a mental note to pass on to the development team.

A thick, French accent set me shaking my head when it came from the very-not-French looking mummy. “Well played, Sophia. The sling and calf brace design I saw recently get approved by medical?”

I groaned as I realized that of course this was Antoine. Life and Death, forever partnered. “Yesssss,” I hissed. “Grey created the design.” I unzipped one boot down far enough to roll it below my knee, exposing braces above and below the kneecap before running further down. “The weight is distributed throughout the leg, before terminating across the front and back of the arch of the foot, to even out the pressure.”

I could almost see numbers whirling beneath the six-foot-plus candy-pink bowler hat. “That… sounds like it might actually be comfortable,” Coffey intoned. I couldn’t help but grin at the tilt of his hat and the feather arching behind him.

“More comfy than actual heels, yes,” I admitted before deflecting attention as far from me as possible. Which, considering how much weight was normally put on the ball of the foot in heels like this, wasn’t a lie…. “But we aren’t here for this! We’re here for food!”

Cheers erupted, and we set off dragging each other to what bits we had discovered. The theme of the night was firmly set around protein, grilled if possible, with wicks of smoke dancing through the flickering light along with the thump of the music. Some were spicy, others unexpectedly sweet. As I laughed, and ate, and sweated, and danced, I could freely admit that there was exactly zero percent chance that I would have imagined this in my wildest dreams. And even better? I could enjoy every second, every smell, every beat of the music. I made a point to wink at each camera I could spot, to the point that, first Tyche, and then everyone else felt the need to comically push down my thumbs-up and cover my face.

Clearly, Parvati and Hannah, who I hadn’t seen all night, were monitoring what they would later discover to be a flying pass on their final exam.

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

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themanicmagician · 5 years ago

Text

Shipwrecked [1/4]

[AO3]

Summary: When Redd's boat crashes upon the shore of Bastion Island, Tom reluctantly takes him in while he recovers. Tom despises Redd for his past deceit, but when he has no choice but to spend time with him, Tom is reminded why he fell in love with the wily fox in the first place.

The wind blew fiercely enough to rattle the windows. The rainstorm, which had begun as an insignificant drizzle that afternoon, had since evolved into a deluge.

“Oh goodness!” Isabelle’s exclamation was punctuated by a jingling of the bells in her hair. She was peering out the dark window. “Alex is outside in this awful weather!”

Tom followed Isabelle’s gaze. Bastion Island’s resident representative, Alex, tromped across the muddy grass. She wore a raincoat, boots, and hat, and clasped a fishing pole in one hand. She was evidently unbothered by the downpour.

“Oh, we should do something, shouldn’t we? She’ll get awful sick, won’t she?” Isabelle fretted, wringing her paws.

“She’ll be alright.” Tom assured her. Humans were remarkably hardy compared to animals. Even if something did happen, the Cranny was well-stocked with medicine.

Alex soon disappeared from their view. Isabelle returned with reluctance to her desk.

Tom found himself wrapped back up in work in short order. He was overlooking expense reports that’d been submitted to him by Timmy and Tommy. The twins were doing remarkably well handling the shop on their own. His oversight was minimal, and more a formality than anything. But the Nooklings wouldn’t have him out of the loop, and Tom had to confess to himself he didn’t want to give up this last tie to the Cranny. Owning a shop had been a dream of his for so long, it had never truly left him.

A jangling noise broke the peaceful quiet of the office. Isabelle fished out her phone from her pocket. A delighted grin lit up her face.

“Digby!” She flashed a look to Tom. “Do you mind if I…?”

Tom gestured wordlessly for her to go ahead.

Isabelle accepted the call, and spoke rapid-fire back and forth with her brother. Digby had recently switched professions from gatekeeper to a member of the renowned Happy Home Academy, and was evidently eager to apprise his sister of further details.

He watched out of his peripheral vision as Isabelle chatted merrily away, and felt a pang of loneliness. Everyone, it seemed, had someone. Isabelle had Digby. Timmy and Tommy were inseparable. Sabel still had Mabel, even if Label had left to strike out on her own. Tom was an only child, and then an orphan. There had been another, once. Someone he’d thought he could trust, could open his heart to. It hadn’t ended well.

Tom dove back into his paperwork to chase away the melancholia. He was writing a series of calculations in the margins of the Nooklings’ report when the doors to Resident Services banged open.

Tom startled and drew a line through his work. Isabelle yipped, and hurriedly said her goodbyes and hung up on Digby.

Alex and Del were carrying an animal between them. It was a fox, with bedraggled, matted fur, Alex’s jacket thrown over his small shoulders.

“I found him by the dock. His ship was all smashed up on the rocks, I had Del help me get him out.” Alex explained. “I think he’s hurt!”

“Lay him on the table,” Tom ordered. He shoved papers and pen cups off the surface to clear room, uncaring where they landed.

Alex and Del placed him carefully on the table. The fox groaned feebly, but didn’t stir. Up close, there was no mistaking the newcomer: it was Redd. What on earth was he doing here, on a near-deserted island of all places? There was no time at present to think it over.

Tom checked Redd over. The fox was miraculously unhurt, save for his left arm. The limb was twisted at an odd angle.

“Del, get medicine from the Cranny. Alex, we’ll need straight sticks and cloth to set his arm.”

The two darted out to fetch what Tom asked. Isabelle found a towel from somewhere and started drying Redd’s sodden frame.

Tom bent over Redd’s face. He tapped his cheek, trying to rouse him. There was a tight ball of anxiety in Tom’s chest, that wouldn’t abate until Redd stirred to crack some dumb joke.

“Mr. Nook, is this who I think it is?”

“It’s Redd, yes.”

Isabelle’s knowledge of him was scarce. She knew him only as the sketchy merchant who set up a tent on occasion in the plaza of their old town. Tom had not divulged any of their past history to her, in spite of their friendship. Indeed, Sable was the only one of his acquaintance who had full knowledge of the situation, in part because she had witnessed the sad finale. Tom had watched Redd erect his tent in the plaza, peddle his often-fake wares, and scurry off before villagers could come after him with their complaints. At the time Tom had considered intervening, of forcing Redd out of town, but he hadn’t been able to confront the fox directly. Instead, he posted a missive on the town bulletin board, warning villagers not to buy from him. If they chose to be taken in by Redd’s wiles after the fact, that was on them.

“But what could Redd be doing all the way out here?” Isabelle echoed Tom’s earlier thoughts.

“What indeed.” Tom could only imagine. Doubtless some new elaborate scheme of his to swindle more animals out of their hard-earned bells.

“I’m back!” Alex declared, arms full of supplies.

“Excellent.”

Tom aligned the sticks in the proper position, then requested Isabelle and Alex hold the branches still as Tom wound the cloth around them to secure the splint. Redd shifted and whimpered as his broken arm was inevitably jostled, and Tom was glad now that Redd hadn’t awoken earlier.

As they finished splinting Redd’s arm, Del arrived with what looked like eight or nine bags of medicine, all slightly damp from the rain.

“I wasn’t sure how many he’d need.” Del said, dumping the pile out onto the table.

Tom opened up one of the paper bags. Inside was a flask of medicine, stoppered with a cork. Tom tipped Redd’s head up slightly, and trickled the vial down his throat. The fox swallowed reflexively. When Redd drained the flask, Tom set it aside. A stray drop of medicine had landed on Redd’s muzzle. Tom thumbed it away unthinkingly.

“I can take him back to my house,” Alex offered. Tom started, his paw quickly dropped away from Redd’s face. “I have the room.”

“No, thank you. That won’t be necessary. Redd and I are...old acquaintances. I’ll look after him, if you’d help me get him home.”

Alex was a touch bemused, evidently wanting to ask more about their connection, but merely agreed.

“Oh, just a moment!” Isabelle scurried back to her desk. She rooted around the drawers until she produced a folded, unused rain poncho. “So he doesn’t get a chill on top of everything else.”

The poncho was a pink plastic, with daisies printed on it. Redd would absolutely hate it, so Tom took some satisfaction in dressing him in the thing.

Moving Redd was a joint effort. Tom and Alex carried Redd, the latter being careful not to jostle the fox’s bad arm. Isabelle held her green gingham umbrella over them, shielding Redd from the worst of the rain. And Del hurried alongside them with the excess parcels of medicine.

The group made their way to the Cranny. The first floor was where the Nooklings served customers, and they and Tom all lived upstairs on the second level.

Tommy was just locking up the shop as they approached, smothering a yawn with one paw. His eyes widened at the sight of them.

“We’re taking him upstairs.” Tom said.

Tommy nodded and scampered to the side door that led to the second floor. He held the door open, and they carried Redd inside.

The Nook family lived modestly here. They had a quaint living room, connected to a kitchenette. There was a single bathroom, and two bedrooms. One for Tom, and one for the boys. (They shared a bunk bed. Tom frequently heard them through the wall at night, bickering good-naturedly about who got to sleep on the top bunk that evening.)

They deposited Redd on Tom’s bed. As Tom tucked the covers around him, he was struck by how small Redd was. Redd had always been the more angular one of the pair of them, but when they’d first met, Tom had been much younger, and still growing. He’d been a head shorter than the fox, whereas now he was a head taller. Redd hadn’t changed at all. He looked so small and pitiful in Tom’s bed, that an instinctive urge to protect him welled up within Tom. He squashed it.

Del left the medicine piled on the nightstand. After assuring them all he could take it from here—yes, Isabelle, he would call if he needed something, yes, he promised—the villagers left.

“What’s going on?” A small voice piped up. Timmy emerged from the bathroom, dressed in his pajamas, complete with a nightcap that had a dangling pom-pom on the end. He was holding his toothbrush.

“Redd is going to be staying with us for...a little while.” This was absolutely not a long term plan. Tom would shelter and feed Redd while he recovered, because it was the right thing to do. But once Redd was well again, he was being sent back to the mainland—whether he liked it or not.

Tommy went to his usual place at Timmy’s side, and the duo turned their inquisitive eyes upon Tom.

“So is Redd your friend?”

“...friend?”

“No.” Tom denied, a touch more curt than he’d intended. Softer, he explained, “We tried to go into business together, once, when I was very young. It didn’t work out. Our philosophies differed too much.”

Tom had hoped his explanation would curtail any further comments, but, on the contrary, the Nooklings were now nearly vibrating in place with curiosity.

“It’s late. You should both get ready for bed.” Tom said, before they could pepper him with additional questions.

Once Timmy and Tommy were settled in for the night, Tom returned to check on Redd. He had moved some in his sleep, now curled on his uninjured side. He was panting lightly. Tom pressed the back of his paw to Redd’s forehead. He was a little warm, but not alarmingly so.

Tom left him then, assured he’d be alright throughout the night. He stretched out on the living room couch and resigned himself to a bad back the next morning.

~*~

The city was bigger than Tom had dreamed. Buildings towered overhead. Tom craned his neck and still couldn’t see the tops of the skyscrapers. He paused a moment, just to drink it all in.

An eagle bumped into him. The bird squawked, dropping her coffee on the crosswalk.

“What are you doing?” She griped. “You can’t just stop in the middle of the road!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Tom rested his suitcase on the ground and hastily opened it. “I have some bells—I’ll pay you back for it—crap!”

Tom yelped as his business proposal notes were lifted up by the wind, and scattered out of his suitcase. Tom scrambled to snatch them up before they could blow too far away. None of the passersby noticed, or cared. They just kept walking. One deer even left a hoofprint stamped on one of the sheets.

“Ugh, I don’t have time for this!” The eagle complained, and stomped off without her coffee or refund.

“Wait, just a moment—!”

She had already vanished into the throng.

Tom sighed. He stuffed his papers back in his briefcase and pressed on. All he owned was collected in the small case. Two spare sets of clothes, some pencils, his business proposal he’d printed off in the town library, and a sack of 10,500 bells he’d painstakingly scraped together running various errands for his neighbors. He didn’t have much, but he clung to confidence. He had a knack for business, his school teacher had been adamant about it. Tom would make it. Even though the city seemed a bit more...unfriendly...than he’d hoped it would be. He was intelligent, he had good, fresh ideas. He just needed to get himself in front of the right animals to pitch his proposal.

Tom’s stomach growled. First, he needed food. And a place to stay.

The convenience store food was more expensive than he’d anticipated—no way a sandwich would cost 500 bells back home!—so he purchased a peeled orange from a girl selling them outside the store for 15 bells.

Tom polished off the last wedge as he entered the Hollyhock Hotel. A chestnut mare in a dapper suit stood behind the front counter.

“Hi there!” She beamed. Hers was the first friendly face he’d encountered. He wondered if he could count a smile that was paid for. “Welcome to Hollyhock Hotel, sir. How can I help you today?”

“I’d like a room, please.”

“Of course!” Her hooves clacked on the keyboard. “And how many nights will you be staying with us?”

“I’m not sure yet. Could I just go night to night for now?”

“Sure. Let’s see now...I can put you in the Greene Suite, that’s 5,000 bells a night.”

“5,000 bells?!” Tom squeaked. He’d be broke within three days! “D-Do you have anything more affordable?”

Further keyboard clattering. She grimaced. “The best we could do is the Acorn Suite, that’s 3,500 a night, but it’s rather cramped.”

Tom gulped. He thought he’d stay in a hotel as he got acquainted with the city, and then in time find an apartment to move into. Now the first step of his journey seemed impossible.

The horse eyed him. “New in town, are you?”

Tom flushed. Was he so obvious? His jacket sleeves were short, stopping two whole inches above his wrists; he hadn’t had the opportunity to buy new clothes in some time, and he’d been too proud to ask Sable to sew scraps onto the ends of the sleeves. He tugged the hem of his sleeve down self-consciously.

She sighed. “Look. Things are pretty pricey here. You’d have better luck further downtown. Past 10th, I’d say.”

“Thank you,” He said politely, and turned to leave.

“Wait!” She called. He turned back. “Just...be careful, alright? That area can be a little rough. They’ll be able to tell you’re an out-of-towner with one look. Don’t go trusting any suspicious characters, alright?”

Tom nodded, and left.

He was on 50th street now. He wasn’t sure if he could afford a cab, or even the proper method of hiring one, so he walked.

It took ages. The streetlights were never in his favor. He’d cross one block and get held up at the next, over and over and over.

An hour later, the sun was starting to set, turning the skyline orange and pink. His feet and legs were stiff, and his arm ached from carrying his briefcase for so long. But, at long last, he had made it down to 10th street. The differences to uptown were stark. The crush of animals had thinned out to near nothing. The pavement was cracked and potholed. More stores were boarded up than open for business. Disheveled-looking animals slept on top of heating vents.

Tom squared his shoulders, and continued on. It wasn’t until 6th street that he caught sight of a potential lead: a motel. The ‘t’ was burnt out on the sign, but the vacancy marker beneath it was lit.

The front door was half off its hinge, the window cracked. Tom eased it open dubiously. Inside he spotted a sallow-looking pig, bickering with a fox. The fox looked out of place here. His red fur was neat and shiny, and he wore a freshly-pressed black blazer. He was slouched over the counter with an easy confidence.

“No, no, no. It’s a good way to get me in trouble.”

“You’re overthinking it. It’s simple, Cobb, really. All you’ve got to do is bet on the other fellow. We split the profits 30/70. It’s easy money, cousin.”

The pig—Cobb, evidently—caught sight of Tom.

“You checking in?” He bellowed, leaning to look past the fox.

The fox turned to face him, and Tom saw then that the fox wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath his blazer. It was half-buttoned from the bottom, the top gaping open to reveal the fox’s chest.

The fox saw him looking. Tom went scarlet.

He smirked. “What’s your name, pretty?”

“I-It’s Thomas. Nook.”

“What are you doing here, Tom?” The fox purred, slinking closer. “This dinky den doesn’t seem your style.”

“I’m looking for a room to stay in while I look for an apartment.”

Cobb opened his mouth to talk, but the fox was faster.

“Why not come stay with me for a while, instead? Just until you get on your feet. I won’t charge a single bell.”

Tom shot him a look of heavy skepticism.

“What, I’m supposed to believe you’d help me, a complete stranger, out of the goodness of your heart?”

Cobb snorted. “Goodness, now that’s a joke…” He muttered.

The fox’s grin widened; evidently, he liked being challenged.

“I wouldn’t extend such a generous offer to any old stranger, no. But I can tell who you are with one look. You’re fresh in town, flat broke, and clueless about how the city runs. But you’ve got ambition, I can smell it. I was like you once. I want to help you, to, what’s the expression? Pay it forward. Plus, Cobb doesn’t even have hot water.”

“Oi!” Cobb protested.

“So, what do you say?” The fox extended his paw.

After a moment of deliberation, Tom reached out and shook it.

“Right, we’re off then! Think about what I said, Cobb.” The fox held fast to Tom’s hand, and tugged him back out onto the city streets.

“Wait,” Tom was tripping to keep pace with the fox’s longer strides. “I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Redd. Just Redd.”

~*~

Tom awoke to the jangle of his phone ringtone. He blearily crammed his paws between the couch cushions, searching for the infernal device. It must’ve fallen out of his pocket during the night.

He found it, and squinted at the screen, which was overbright in the darkness. It was 5:52 a.m., and Blathers was calling.

“Yes?” Tom answered him, tiredly.

“Tom, you simply will not believe the evening I have had—in Bastion, of all places! Who would have thought it! I am ever so grateful you coaxed me out here, old friend, I simply must—”

“Blathers.”

“Right! Right. Alex stopped by last evening, told me all about our new guest. She wrangled some of the villagers together afterwards to search the boat wreckage. There was—Tom, you simply must see it all, you must! You need to resist that unceasing urge to work and spend a visit. There was a veritable treasure trove inside the ship. Priceless artwork. The majority of the paintings, unfortunately, were water-damaged. I am doing my utmost to repair them—I don’t think I’ll even catch a wink of sleep today, hoo-hoo! But the statues, they fared much better. They’re in near-perfect condition, all of them! I wonder if our guest may be persuaded to part with them. For the museum, of course! Though I would like nothing less than to add these pieces to my personal collection...”

Tom mentally sifted through the dump of information Blathers had bestowed upon him. Blathers was a smart owl, with a ludicrous amount of degrees. If he was coveting the art, it couldn’t be fake.

“You’re saying all the art is authentic?”

“The statues are, most assuredly. Indeed, I wonder how our guest managed to obtain them all. They must have cost a fortune. Alas, the paintings have been marred. It’s impossible for me to say with one hundred percent certainty, but to my eye the paintings appear to be authentic as well.”

This was rather unusual for Redd. Not the art and artifact scheme, he’d been pulling that for years. But almost always he sold animals nothing but forgeries and fakes. On the very rare occasion he sold a genuine piece, inevitably within months the true owner came to town to reclaim their stolen artwork. It was baffling, but Tom pushed down his curiosity. It didn’t matter to him what new scheme Redd had devised. Tom was not going to get involved in any capacity.

Tom thanked Blathers for his information, and said his goodbyes before Blathers could keep him on the line for an hour. He sat up, and winced. His back was definitely sore from a night on the couch. Isabelle had gotten him into yoga lately, so he stood to perform a few basic stretches. His routine was interrupted by a thud from his bedroom: Redd.

Tom hurried into the room. Redd had fallen from the bed in a tangle of sheets. Had he tried to get out of bed on his own?

“Owch,” He grumbled, rubbing the back of his head with his good arm. He looked up, and spotted Tom. Redd’s mouth curved into a too-familiar smirk. “Just couldn’t wait to get me in your bed, eh Tom?”

#reddnook #tom nook #redd #animal crossing #animal crossing new horizons #ac #tom/redd #my fic #enjoy #not my most polished fic #this is just some fluffy romance/drama

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akampana · 3 years ago

Note

16 cutoria but in a vampire/werewolf au?

ANON LOOK WHAT YOU DID ITS 6716 WORDS LONG/lh

16 “I didn’t want to tell you like this, but I have no choice.” Werewolf AU Cú Chulainn x Arturia Pendragon

________

“You’ve stalled for too long, brat.”

The she-wolf dropped into the clearing without a sound, her experienced paws padding across the forest floor as lightly as the beating of butterfly wings. Scáthach was a creature of grace, even as a large canine. Her hunts were nothing short of elegant either, carried out quiet enough such as not to disturb the night. It was no wonder at all that she was once the Alpha of the pack.

The new Alpha was not so. Though the runs he was tasked to lead were mostly just as productive, he was rough and arrogant, hunting larger prey while scorning rabbits and smaller faunus. While the pups enjoyed being handed larger game whenever he came to the den, his chosen prey’s strangled cries always alerted nearby animals to go running. In winter, such conduct put the whole pack in danger of going hungry.

Despite that, it was only Scáthach who ever told him off, for there was no one else quite as strong as the large grey beast that was bestowed the honor of being their leader.

“You know what snow does to the rival packs, Cú,” hummed the wiser wolf as she circled the hubristic pup. She was never in favor of putting him in the lead just yet, but she had served her purpose, teaching him all that she knew. She didn’t doubt he had the prowess. He just lacked the responsibility.

“They have been seen closing in on our territory, now that prey runs scarce. You’ve been lucky, bringing in as much elk as you have thus far. But how will you maintain that while defending the territory, hm? Pull a miracle and find some loose sheep like you did last winter?”

Her pup-turned-leader snorted, shaking his snout as he stalked away. “This another attempt at getting me a mate, old hag?”

The she-wolf bared her teeth at the new alpha, batting his snout with her paw. “A mate shows power and longevity, you know this. Fionn may not have been the best father to you, but he brought you brothers and he brought you safety.”

“I ain’t taking Medb,” Cú snarled back, his fur standing on end at the thought. “So shove it. I’m heading out. Tell Ferdíad I can’t make it to game night.”

Without another word, the alpha wolf bounded off into the trees faster than the human eye could follow. He leapt past hills, his paws crunching snow beneath him, careless of the little prey that scuttled about. They were done with today’s hunt. Even Ferdíad's litter could go to sleep completely satisfied.

The wolf dodged through the thick vegetation mile after mile, until the paths he marked out for the younger wolves were no longer in sight. Although he doubted the den mother would approve of him going so far out into their territory alone, he was the alpha now. His decisions would no longer be questioned.

Finally, he came to a cave: an old abandoned bear den, that lesser beings avoided though its owner no longer lived there. His sharp ruby eyes darted to his surroundings, making sure he wasn’t followed. Then, he entered the den, as he had done several times before, and came out the cave’s other end.

Only Diarmuid knew about his hideout, and he’d like to keep it that way. As long as the beta kept this little secret within the pack territory, Cú could keep her safe.

The large canine made his way past a few evergreen trees ‘til the humble farm came into view. Sure enough, there she was in the middle of the fenced off enclosure, sitting amongst her sheep while the lambs fed on the last of the grass.

Here was Scáthach’s little “miracle”: a shepherd that had seen Cú’s starving figure at the edge of her farm last winter and purposely left her fence gate open. To this day, Cú still did not know why she did it, but her generosity got his entire pack through the harsh season.

In return, he’d secretly kept foxes and wild wolves off her farm, making sure the lesser beings knew better than to encroach on his personal territory.

At least, that’s what he did as a wolf.

Cú returned to his little cave, snarling as his fur receded into his skin. The alpha curled onto the ground, biting his own paw to stifle his groans as the bones within him shrank and contorted into a lesser form. His snout receded into a straight nose, his fangs into passably human sharp teeth. Without his night vision, Cú reached blindly for the small duffel bag tucked into a small hollow and pulled out an artificial coat and a pair of trousers.

What snuck out of the enclosure was no longer a grey apex predator, but a tall, muscled man with flowing dark hair: an ordinary hunter, no more special than the ones that frequented the northern town.

The bell chimed as he walked through the entrance, signalling the blonde shop owner of his arrival. Cú tried not to smile too widely as Arturia Pendragon popped her head through the staff door, but he knew that was a futile effort.

“Hey, shortie.”

“Good evening, Cú,” replied the woman, snorting at his favorite nickname for her as he hung his coat on the rack. “I have your usual ready...though I still cannot understand why you prefer coming here rather than the supermarket. You know Arthur takes our supply every Monday. He's down there with Arash the rest of the week. Isn’t that a little closer to home?”

Right. She still thought he lived in town. It was easier than saying he lived across the woods in a village even more secluded then hers which would be impossible to get to from here without a two hour drive unless you were a wolf that could cross the forest terrain in a fraction of time, so he didn’t correct her.

The Irishman shrugged and sank into the rug before the fireplace. “Mutton’s better fresh. 'Sides, the grocers don't stock your pies. Ya really should sell 'em, Arturia, I'm tellin' ya.”

The woman scoffed, lightly nudging her friend to the side with her foot. As he scooched over, she set down a food tray between them: one with two glasses of whiskey and two slices of pie.

"Flatterer," she accused, handing the bigger slice to Cú anyway. He wolfed it down in seconds.

The first time he showed up at her door went much the same way, just a lot more awkward.

It was the day after his wolf came home with her sheep. He'd already knocked on her door to thank her before realizing how stupid that idea was. What was he meant to say?

Hey, uh, thanks for letting me hunt your sheep to feed my pack. My best friend's wife just popped a litter of hungry babies, hehe gotta feed them young am I right? Oh, by the way, I'm the wolf from yesterday, nice to meet you—Yep. No. not gonna work. This was a terrible idea. Stupid, really. He was stupid. Why did he even come here again?

Then she swung open the door, freezing the man in place with his mouth half open.

"Can I help you?" She asked, but before he could even reply, he was greeted by snow. Everywhere. All at once. Down his spine and into his underwear.

Now, he wasn't as susceptible to the cold as the common human, but she did not know that. Before he could even get a word out, he was sitting in front of the fire to dry while she ran to get him something warm to drink.

A change into Arthur's clothes and some hot coffee later, he was being served pie at the dining table to make up for his unexpected snow shower.

"Again, I sincerely apologize for that. My brother and I haven't had the chance to fix the porch roof. We just moved to this old farm last month,” rambled the short Welsh woman as she handed him a hot towel.

After some hesitation and observation on the stranger’s way of dress, she asked, “Did...did you come here for lamb?"

Little did she know, she'd just handed Cú the perfect excuse. Plus, he now knew exactly how to show his gratitude.

"If I fix up yer roof would ya give me a discount?"

Over the next week, Cú would come to the Pendragon residence to make repairs. It wasn’t just the roof that needed patching up.

It turns out she and her brother were alone in the world, cheated out of their inheritance and everything else they owned by their older sister. All that was left to them was this old farm and cottage, which neither had visited since they were kids. Their half-sibling even threw in three truckloads of animals as a joke, since she had all the riches in the world to spend and a special budget for humiliating the two green-eyed blondes.

Still, the twins were educated. Brilliant, even. And though they were clumsy when it came to most household repairs, their experience tending equine stables for their late father translated rather well to animal husbandry. In a month, they had made enough to pay the bills and get them a secondhand laptop and working Wi-fi. The next month saw Arturia getting her own computer.

Half a year down the line, Cú was sure that the Pendragon siblings would move out, but here they stayed, still maintaining their humble farm though it was no longer their only form of income. Neither of them needed the burden of moving back to London, with its ridiculously high cost of living and impossible rent rates. They’d grown fond of the land they actually owned and its peace.

That suited Cú just fine, because he had grown fond of Arturia.

Cú still visited, even after all the repairs had finished. His nephews were always hungry, and while the mutton did not satisfy the little pups’ bloodlust as much as wild game, it made up for the deficit while the children were in human form. But even Arthur knew his bi-monthly purchases were just an excuse.

He was there for the coffees, for the brief moments his fingers would brush hers. He was there for the whiskey, the cheap bottles they shared before the fireplace while she told him everything she could about the city. He was there to make fun of her posh way of speaking, to pull the ribbon from her hair, to bring her fruits and berries and furs and let her read him books.

He was there for her.

Scáthach’s training only increased in intensity as the months passed, and between his day job and being the new alpha, Cú had little time left for himself. But what he could spare, he spent with his favorite person, even if it was just watching her tend her sheep from a distance while he kept foxes out of her territory.

Cú tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, happy to see she didn’t even flinch, but plagued by the thought of his wolf. He was the pack alpha now, and that meant a shitload of other responsibilities that would keep him from her for as long as he held that title.

“That’s all yer charging me, shortie? Nah, can’t be,” Cú resisted, pushing a few more bills across the table. “That’s way too cheap, even if yer sweet on me.”

Pink-faced, Arturia slid the packed meats back across the counter, reached behind her, and procured a carefully wrapped circular dish which she placed in a bag.

“Take it,” she insisted, hooking the bag onto his fingers. “We’ve been ridiculously lucky to not get any wolves and foxes considering how much higher into the mountains we live compared to the rest of the town. There is more than enough left for Arthur and I.”

Cú peeked into the extra bag, catching a glimpse of a familiar crust. God, she was far too kind. He’d reject the offer, but he’d always wanted to bring some shepherd’s pie back to the pack. This was his chance.

“Ya sure?”

“Absolutely,” she confirmed, holding open the front door as Cú made his exit. “This is the least I could do for you, Cú. You have helped make us feel home in this far-off place. I would even say that you are family but—”

“Go out with me,” the werewolf interrupted, shoving all his reservations into his internal dumpster. He didn’t know how yet, but he was gonna make this work. “Come on, I know ya like me, shortie.”

Tiptoeing, Arturia snaked a hand into his hair and pulled him down to her level, planting a small kiss on his cheekbone.

“It is...a little more than ‘like’, I believe,” the woman admitted bashfully, trying to mask her embarrassment by awkwardly sneaking back behind the door. “...Eight tomorrow?”

Cú bit his lip, glad to hear confirmation on what he already knew. She loved him back. She loved him back. God, he better not be looking like a child just handed some candy.

“Nah, this morning weekend. This weekend morning. The morning of this weekend,” he fumbled, rewarded with a short chuckle from her end. “I wanna have a whole day with ya for once, shortie. I’ll make it worth yer time.”

There was a spring in his step as the alpha bounded across the forest that night, carrying the bags carefully with the handles between his teeth.

If only he weren’t so distracted. Then he’d have noticed the salivating spy that watched him leave the abandoned bear den with a fresh pack of meat.

Snow fell heavily across the landscape on Tuesday evening, covering the last of autumn’s colors in a blanket of pure white. After dinner time was always idle for Cú, so he spent it sharing Arturia’s gift with the kids and spinning his phone in his fingers.

Instinct told him a storm was coming, and though it would probably have passed by Saturday, Cú wondered if he should try and reschedule his anticipated date. He wasn’t too worried about Arturia, since Arthur said he’d be coming back up to the cottage tonight, so at least she wouldn’t be alone all through it. Plus, the twins really did have a lot of food in stock. In comparison, he and his pack were the ones less prepared.

His sharp ears perked up as a familiar presence entered the grounds. The alpha’s brow knitted, as the slight smell of blood entered the air, but if the little ones weren’t alarmed, it must not have been such a serious wound.

Diarmuid stepped into the kitchen, still pulling on a wool jacket and shaking the snow off of his dark hair.

“Evening, Alpha,” the handsome man said softly, taking notice of the pie that sat in front of the pups.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, just call me Cú. Yer no less my little bro now than ya were before, Diar,” he corrected, sliding a plate his way. “Try that.”

The amber-eyed man approached the meal like a cat did water: hesitantly and suspiciously. Thankfully, as soon as he had a taste he had about the same reaction as Ferdiad’s kids did. Which was...basically nearly crying tears of joy.

“Where did you say you got this?” Diarmuid asked, snatching up another helping as Cú smirked. He’d not give the answer up that easily.

The alpha’s red eyes landed on his brother’s shoulder, finding a clumsy bandage just sticking out the collar. At once, he herded the beta into a different room, far enough from the pups that they couldn’t hear.

“The hell happened to ya?” Cú demanded, pulling the shirt collar to the side to better gauge the severity of the wound.

“It’s a warning, Sétanta” Scáthach answered for her son, entering the log cabin from the back door. “The rival packs were closing in on the border. I doubt their side of the mountain is as scarce as they make it out to be and yet they have the gall to encroach on ours.”

“Our territory’s guarded. That’s why we moved Fergus, ain’t it? To cover all bases. Den in the center with the pups, Me and Diar in the North, and dad in the South. Fergus’s gang to the west, and we got the town in the east and all wolves know not to mess with the towns,” Cú shot back, unconcerned.

Red eyes much alike to Cú’s observed him with kind care, seeing the wolf pup and alpha both. The new leader was strong, but he was arrogant. In a way, he was a perfect successor, for she knew he could kill her should the need arise. However, too loose he was with laws; too untethered by the rules that kept their kind safe.

“It would be a show of strength to take a mate. To let all know that our new Alpha has his right hand—”

Cú waved his arms dismissively. “The hands I do have are more than enough to drive them off. Ya know that. Now, are we stocking up for the pups or what? The storm ain’t gonna delay, I can smell it.”

22:24 Read

Cú paced the main den like a dog kept in an enclosure for far too long, tossing his half-charged phone while he awaited her message.

Four days. It had been four days since the blizzard started, piling snow on top of snow day after day as if it was trying to beat some arctic record. The log cabin’s ground floor was completely sealed in. They’d been on generator for the last four hours, listening to the weatherman on the radio as he promised for the third time that tonight the storm would finally pass.

Diarmuid was curling up with his nephews, keeping them warm in wolf form as they slept. Cú thanked every god he knew that they went on a hunt before the blizzard hit, else the kids went hungry. He and Diarmuid hadn’t planned to stay at their brother’s but the weather hardly gave them a choice. Their cottage was a lot further off.

22:24 Read

Cracks appeared on the glass as Cú glared into his mobile’s screen, hoping for some sort of change. But no. There sat the same exchange from an hour ago, the same bloody text just very loudly broadcasting to him the worst news of today.

One of our generators broke down. I need to move the power to the barn.

For real? Are you okay, shortie?

Arturia?

Hey, ya can’t just leave me hangin like that.

Arturia?

22:24 Read

“Sétanta, would you just put the bloody phone down?!” Ferdiad screeched, snatching the device right out of the alpha’s hands. “I said we were gonna talk, how the hell are we supposed to talk when yer not even givin’ me the bloody time of day!”

The low growl that escaped through the alpha’s bared teeth shook the cabin like an earthquake.

“What,” Cú barked, grabbing his precious device back while his brother stood his ground. “If this is just another lecture about how Scáthach was right, I should have just fucked with Medb and get it over with, I ain’t hearing another fucking word.”

22:24 Read

“No, you piece of—” Ferdiad inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring with frustration. The older man grabbed his brother by the shoulders, shaking him like a rattle. “Cú. Listen to me.”

As Diarmuid shushed them both, Ferdiad pointed outside, to where nothing could be seen but heavy white ice.

“Do you seriously think Scáthach wants you to mate that pink-haired priss? ‘Course not. She just needs ya to set down roots,” the delta wolf explained, looking over the alpha’s shoulder to his three sons. “You are the strongest of us, Cú, but nothing ties ya to this territory. For all the outsiders know you could be planning to move and make your own pack.”

The younger of them grimaced as Diarmuid nodded from his perch with the pups.

“I ain’t going nowhere,” the new alpha emphasized, shrugging out of his brother’s touch.

“Well they don’t know that! What if this whole time, the only reason they haven’t advanced is cause we’ve been keeping close watch on our borders, hm? Hell, you and Diar have basically been here the entire fucking week, they probably think you’ve bloody moved on. Wouldn’t surprise me in the least if they took advantage of this stupid storm to move into our territory, now that you’re not guarding the north!” Ferdiad argued, baring his fangs at his superior.

22:24 Read.

Cú’s heart stopped, the poor phone in his hands near crunching in his grip. No. The Pendragons didn’t live too far from the town. It was fine. She was fine. Just snowed in.

No werewolf was crazy enough to go near town in their canine form, not even the rival packs. There was too much risk of being found out. Simply no way.

Unless...

22:24 Read.

Unless they didn’t have any food in store. Unless they were looking for some easy pickings. Maybe a couple of sheep that wouldn’t be missed, stolen from a farm just a little out of range of the nearby village.

A farm with a single, vulnerable caretaker, forced to share a heater with her flock.

22:24 Read.

Cú frantically pressed the call button and put the phone to his ear, shushing Ferdiad before the delta could return to making his arguments. Three rings later and the line cut. He tried again, heart dropping like deadweight when it gave the same result.

His footsteps became panicked as he walked round in circles, scrolling upward to a contact that was here only for emergencies.

“Arthur,” Cú said through the phone, hearing the familiar voice of his blonde friend coming through the line. “‘S Arturia there with ya?”

Suddenly a quiet bang resounded throughout the room. A gunshot, deafened by distance and snow. Any false sense of security Cú still had shattered with the sound.

“The hell?” Ferdiad exclaimed, rushing towards his children to comfort them. “There can’t be any humans crazy enough to hunt in that storm.”

The alpha was no longer around to hear him.

Arturia never held any hate for her half-sister. Not even when she banned her and her twin to Ireland with nothing left to their name. Despite everything, Arturia thought her punishment was not too cruel, for she still had Arthur. She still had a degree under her belt, and in a way, Morgan had cast her far away from a destiny she didn’t even want to fulfil. Arthur never wanted to take over the mining company and neither did she.

The first few weeks were difficult, but they learned to live on their own. They made a humble world for themselves that wasn’t tied to their prestigious last name. It was simple. But it was good.

She’d admit it got a little lonely with just the two of them around, but...then there was Cú. Cú, who helped them fix up the house, who came bringing drinks or food they could all share by the fire. Cú, who helped them get set up at the market, who got them their regular buyers and still made himself a frequent customer. Cú, who made up excuses just to see her, who scorned the couch to lie down on her lap while she read.

The cabin was always a little warmer when he was around. It was home when he was around.

She should have asked him out sooner.

The wolves came crashing through the windows, raining thick glass all over her flock. There were seven of them. All massive beasts with fur of brown and grey, glowing eyes and bared fangs. In their view, she may as well have been just another sheep, helpless in the face of the predator.

The air was a cacophony of distressed bleating, panicked hooves and growls as the sheep tried their best to escape their fate. Amidst it were her own hoarse screams as a brown beast sank its fangs into her arms, her frantic kicks to its belly doing nothing to throw the large beast off. Desperate green eyes searched the floor for her gun, which sat useless under her first attacker, a chestnut wolf that had ignored smaller prey and gone straight for her.

Her own blood dripped down onto her cheeks as the wolf above her crushed her limbs between its teeth. Arturia’s eyes prickled with tears as fresh cries escaped her lips, grieving not from the pain but for all she was going to lose. So soon, she had to say goodbye to her new life, her brother, to any chance she ever had at a happy ending.

The woman felt her predator’s claw stomp onto her throat, stifling her screams as its teeth dug into her shoulder. Salt fell freely from her eyes as the beast tore through the muscle. Was this how she was going to die? Cold and alone amongst the carcasses of her flock? Was this how Arthur would find her when the blizzard did subside, torn to pieces and left scattered all over the barn floor?

Arturia shut her eyes, unwilling to let her last sight be that of her killer. Instead, she thought of Arthur, hoping someone would be there for him through it all. She thought of Cú, she thought of the lovely blue dress she was supposed to wear when she finally went out with him. She’d been waiting for the day to finally wear it. She knew he loved the color blue.

As her lungs began to burn for air, her final thought was a prayer to a God she didn’t know she still believed in. If she were to die today, then let it be the last pain her two favorite boys would ever experience—

Suddenly, frigid oxygen entered her lungs as her attacker was tackled off of her, leaving Arturia hacking and coughing as she gasped for breath. She sat up dizzily, gripping her injured shoulder with bleeding arms as she tried to get her bearings.

The pack had abandoned the few sheep that were left, hounding instead the new arrival: a wolf easily larger than her from head to tail, with grey fur that glistened in the little light. Its glowing red eyes seemed aflame with rage as it sank its teeth into her attacker’s throat and snapped its neck like a toothpick, showering all the surrounding dogs with their leader’s blood. Even then, the grey wolf did not stop, jumping at the next canine and carrying out its execution.

The woman limped to the exit as fast as she could, bracing herself against the biting cold as she made her way back to the cabin. Behind her, the barking continued as wolf fought against wolf, the red-eyed one beating off the remaining four while the frightened sheep ran wild with fear.

Arturia slammed the cabin door closed behind her, bolting every lock there was with frostbitten fingers before sneaking a glance back into the barn through the window. There was barely anything to make out amidst the pouring snow and the painful throbbing in her head, but all she knew was that somehow...the newcomer was winning.

She didn’t know what kind of divine intervention must have occurred for that wolf to come save her, but...all it did was buy her a little time. Even if she was safe from predators in the cabin, the freezing cold would take her before morning. Maybe she could start a fire, but she’d lost so much blood, she could barely even stand.

After much struggle to ignite the tinder, the injured woman slumped onto the rug before the fireplace, taking comfort in the hearth’s warmth as the blizzard raged on outside.

A loud crash brought her attention behind her, to where stood the red eyed wolf, blood staining the grey fur on his shoulder. Two emotions gripped her heart at the same time: fear and recognition. As the beast stalked its way toward her, she finally understood why he looked so familiar.

It was the young wolf from last year, the one who sat right outside her fence, neither coming in to attack her flock, nor fleeing at the sight of her. She’d always wondered what became of him after he ran off with a couple of her sheep. He had a lot more weight on him compared to back then, enough that she knew it was hopeless to try fighting him off. If he’d somehow defeated the entire pack in the barn, an injured human like herself didn’t stand a chance.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” she croaked, her shattered vocal chords barely able to keep up. “Please just make it quick.”

Almost as if he could understand her, the wolf whimpered and flattened his ears against his head, lowering himself as he approached.

For the second time that night, Arturia shut her eyes as the wolf caged her broken, shivering figure to the floor. She stiffened, anticipating another bite as he brought his head closer.

Then she felt a warm tongue lick her cheek.

Arturia’s eyes snapped open in surprise, locking with increasingly familiar ruby irises. The wolf lay its head on her chest, gently resting on top of her as it whimpered. Suddenly, it began to whine, jerking back and forth as its body contorted itself into a different shape. One that was smaller, one that hadn’t a silver coat of fur, one that no longer crushed her underneath its weight.

Soon it wasn’t a wolf at all that Arturia held in her arms, but a man. Large hands that she recognized traveled up to her cheeks, his thumbs stroking away her tears. Her heart warred with itself, overtaken by pain, relief, fear, security. But all of that could wait.

Cú leaned forward til he was kissing her, molding his mouth into hers til he had her lips memorized.

“Cú,” Arturia whispered, when they separated to breathe, her injured arms wearily looping around his neck. “You’re…”

“Sorry,” The man shushed her with another deep kiss, enveloping her shivering figure into his embrace. “I didn’t wanna tell you like this, but I have no choice. I’m—”

“The wolf from last winter,” she interrupted, her mind struggling to put together the pieces. “The…wolf who came to save me. You were here with me this whole tim—mmh”

The man’s fingers snaked behind her head, supporting her as tasted her mouth once more.

“Ya saved me first.”

There was a desperation in the way that he moved, the way he touched her cold skin. He didn’t want it to be like this. He wished their first kiss would have been somewhere warm. He wanted to take her out to the lake, hold her hand…not drag her into his world of hunt-or-be-hunted.

Cú pressed his lips to her neck, regretting the multitude of wounds she sustained there. If only he were here earlier. If only he were faster. This would never have happened if wasn’t so damn careless.

The werewolf pulled down her scarf and jacket, exposing the deep wounds the rival pack leader had left at the junction of her shoulder and all over her arms.

They bit her.

Cú pursed his lips, placing a few more kisses to her temple. He hoped it would be enough. He hoped she would understand his feelings for her. He hoped she would forgive him.

“Let’s get ya patched up, shortie, okay?”

Cú borrowed some of Arthur’s clothes for the second time, leaving her momentarily to redirect the power back to the cottage instead of the barn. There were nothing but carcasses to warm over there now. After that, he no longer left her side, nursing her wounds the best that he could and keeping her close to share his body heat.

“You’re gonna turn,” Cú said seriously, hugging the one person he loved more than anything to his chest. Werewolf saliva was powerful, and so their kind never endeavored to sink their teeth into humans unless they were sure to kill the target or intentionally make them part of their pack.

“How soon?” Arturia answered back, turning to look up at her saviour. All the fear in her eyes had disappeared, replaced with melancholy and trust. Of course she was upset. Creatures of his world had just gone and stolen her new life away.

“The next full moon,” Cú answered regretfully, “Tomorrow night.”

Cú brushed her bangs out of her face, letting his ruby eyes clash with her emeralds. “Ya scared?”

The man didn’t even know why he was asking. But what were you supposed to say to someone who was just dragged into a hidden world she knew nothing about? How was he supposed to tell her she’d be riddled with bloodlust for the rest of her life, that she’d crave the hunt, that she’d yearn for the night? How was he supposed to tell her she had to give up the one family she had left to keep him away from the life of a hunter?

“Should I be?” Arturia answered, deceptively calm. No doubt, she was thinking of the heavy price she had to pay for surviving.

Cú knew Scáthach was coming. He could feel it. As soon as this bloody storm let up, the she-wolf would put her nose to the air, track him down to this cottage, and put down the rival pack’s unintentional new member before she even had the chance to morph.

Not if he could help it.

“Ya said l was like family to you, Arturia, did ya mean it?” he asked, his heart racing like crazy. His favorite person nodded into his chest, fiddling with his fingers and palm.

“Then...d’ya wanna be that to me, forever though?” he stuttered out, suddenly losing all manner of confidence.

Arturia got up to face him. “How do you mean?”

“Damn yer really gonna let me get into the specifics, huh? Right,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head despite himself. “Look, for us, there’s just one. One mate, for the rest of our lives. You just feel this...bond with them, ya know? Strong enough ya can’t bear to be without them. If ya let me, I want you to be that for me."

"Cú, are you asking me to wed you?" she asked back, confusion settling in the crease between her brows. "But we haven't even gone out yet—"

"Ya were gonna marry me eventually," he shot back, flicking the hair outta her face. "I'm quite the husband material, dontcha think? I bring ya food, I eat your pie—my family likes them by the way—I'm handsome as fuck, not ta mention, charming, what’s the harm in speeding things up a lil’?"

The werewolf grinned at her, trying to cover up how bloody nervous he actually felt.

“And also my pack won’t kill ya. Cause you know, technically ya belong to the rival pack, because they’re the ones that bit ya. But also yer all that’s left in that pack, after tonight and…” he paused, cupping her face with his hands, “I'll still court you, 'Turia. I want to. I'll give ya a good life. Swear.”

Arturia’s lips quirked upward for a second, knowing how crazy adamant Cú could be with following promises.

"Alright,” she confirmed, accepting his kiss. “I just...I worry about Arthur."

"So you finally show up, hm? Disappear for a while, why don't you? Doesn't matter whether or not the rival pack comes to—"

Scáthach inhaled, sniffing her grey wolf pup as she circled him. Something had changed about her son, she could feel it.

"There is no rival pack," Cú answered, grinning like a madman. “Only two new additions to ours.”

"What?"

“Last winter, it stormed just like this, didn’t it? No game, not even the smallest of hares. We were considering crossing over to the other side of the mountain, yeah?” Cú asked back, eagerly goading out the she-wolf’s response. Scáthach stared at him intensely, her red eyes glowing in the light of the full moon.

“You came back with sheep—”

The grey wolf nodded its head in a near-human fashion.”They were gifts. From them.”

Cú yipped, calling for the two concealed wolves to come into the den.

One was large and long, with fur as black as the bark of trees. He came out of the woods like a moving shadow, paws of coal shuffling through the snow. Even Scáthach, who was a midnight color herself, thought she was looking straight into a beautiful void.

The second wolf was smaller. She had a pelt of pure shining white, purer even than fresh snowfall. If not for the black nose that nuzzled into their alpha as she came close, she would be completely missable in their landscape of ice.Though of shorter stature, she strode like a king. Scáthach hadn’t a doubt that if this newcomer were born a wolf, she’d be an alpha herself without question.

The two newcomers stared at the she-wolf with matching emerald eyes, each set of orbs sparkling with the colors of the aurora. Siblings. Strong ones. But any wolf could tell these two were not born with beast’s blood like the rest of them, their footsteps were too unnatural. Too clumsy. They were made beasts, and by their scent it had been the doing of the rival pack.

As her son pressed his snout to the white wolf’s nose, several things finally clicked into place. Cú had gone and done what she’d been pestering him to do for the last few months and had eliminated the pack that had been encroaching on their territory in one fell swoop.

Cú had chosen his mate: a human convert who’d inherited their rivals’ land the day she was bitten. A human who they just so happened to owe a great debt for getting them through last year’s winter.

As Cú’s beastly eyes stared her down, Scáthach had to admit... her bratty pup finally had her at a total loss. She couldn’t be mad about anything, couldn’t even nitpick at the tiny size of his chosen queen or her tar-coat brother. Gosh, Fionn was gonna get a lotta kicks outta this.

“Names,” the she-wolf demanded, circling the twins while Cú gave her a shit-eating grin. Then, she turned, looking back just once to signal for them to follow.

Side by side, the new wolves and the alpha made their way into the central den. Arthur was immediately swarmed by Cú’s brothers. Arturia, by Ferdiad’s pups.

Later, when all had settled back into human skin and a fresh change of clothes, Cú looked about his pack. Fergus and Medb had come to visit, with all sorts of food in tow. Diarmuid excitedly showed Arthur around the wolf den while Fionn and Scathach kept to their own corner. Ferdiad and his litter sat right in front of the brick oven, eagerly awaiting the shepherd’s pie the twins had prepared.

The alpha leaned down, resting his cheek atop Arturia’s blonde head.

“We never did get to go on that date,” she whispered lightheartedly, leaning her head onto his chest. “I even had a dress prepared.”

“Mmmmm that so?” Cú shot back, grinning, “I just think since we are “mated” we really ought to get to mating if ya know what I—”

Arturia’s palm snapped onto his lips before he could complete the thought. Suddenly, they were wrestling each other to the floor, the older wolf chuckling like a madman all the while.

“Kidding—ooofghmhm--kidding, Arturia, I’m kidding, jeez,” he managed to get out, placating his blushing mate as he grabbed onto her hands. The Welsh woman panted, from her seat atop him, her green eyes looking everywhere else but into his red orbs.

“Eight tomorrow?” Arturia asked, though she knew full well Cú was coming home with her that day.

Not even caring about the teasing whoops resounding through the wolf den, Cú pulled his mate down for another hug.

“Yeah. I’d like that, shortie.”

#tysm for the ask!#:>#akampana asks #love confession prompts #whew that was a long one #hope you liked it anon #might remake this into a fic on ao3 soon #cutoria #cuturia #arturia pendragon #cu chulainn #artoria pendragon #cu #arturia #artoria #fate #fanfic

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solohux · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, prompts are still open! And I just got this quick idea. Hux is a house fox, domesticated and rather pampered. Kylo, on the other hand, is as feral as feral can be but he just loves to stare at Hux from the forest line. The, rather red, fox loves to sit on the window sill and sun bathe and just love to watch this feral black fox from his pillowed sill. Hux is never let out but when his owner leaves one day, nothing is stopping Hux from meeting his beloved admirer.

Of course, one meeting leads to two, then three...and then a few pups, much to the owners chagrin.

what is meant to be a drabble has turned into 1.8k. enjoy!

Armitage has been waiting for this day for a while now. His owners, are having a overnight date night tonight, leaving the pampered pet fox alone in their countryside mansion for the day, free to do whatever he wants without their gaze.

Today, Armitage is going to see the black fox. A neko like Armitage, the fox has long, dark hair and two furry ears that sit atop his head, and bushy black tail with a white tip. He appeared last summer on the very edge of the forest that backs onto the Hux’s family home, staring up at the window where Armitage spends most of his day. The windowsill of one of the mansion’s many studies—on the second floor—gives Armitage a grand view of the woodland and beyond, and he loves nothing more than lying in his heated bed amongst a plethora of plump pillows and napping the day away. He’d spotted movement in the garden below one early morning and looked down to find a handsome black fox

So feral and rugged, Armitage had fallen in love almost immediately. He’s never even met another fox like him before, though neighbours had brought their excitable puppy—Poe—around for a visit one day and Armitage had screamed bloody murder at the pup. He didn’t like others in his territory but nothing unwanted had stirred in him when he set his eyes on the black fox in the garden, watching him prowl around before going back to the forest.

The black fox has been back to visit Armitage and stare up at him every day ever since.

The day has finally arrived that Armitage can sneak out without repercussions. Madame is fussing over him as she usually does, stroking through his soft, copper-coloured hair and making sure the red bow around his neck is still as perfect as it should be. Armitage almost purrs at her touch, always loving how much his owner spoils him.

“Honey, we have to go,” Sir says, tapping his foot at the door. “The car is waiting.”

“I just hate leaving him,” Madame says, fixing his blankets and pillows to make sure that her pet is comfy.

“He’ll be fine. It’s only for one night.”

“We’ve left you plenty of food, dear Armie,” she says, combing her fingers down his spin and to his fluffy tail. “And we’ve even left the television on the cooking channel.”

“Darling, please. Let’s go.”

“Yes, yes. Coming.” Madame stands up, smiling down at Armitage with her bright red, lipstick-covered lips. “Be good, Armie. We’ll see you soon.”

Armitage merely gives his tail a bit of a wag as they leave the room, though he listens carefully for them grabbing their suitcase and going out of the door. As quickly as he can, Armitage kicks off his covers and dashes to the front bedroom, peeking out from behind the safety of the blinds to see Madame and Sir climbing into their taxi and being driven away down the long, cobbled path to the front gate.

They’re finally gone. Armitage breathes a sigh of relief. The house feels much bigger with just him in it, free to wander around without the worry that he’ll disturb Sir’s work and be punished for it before Madame can find out, but he hasn’t time to dwell on things. His admirer is, no doubt, already waiting for him on the border to the forest.

But before Armitage can dash out of the door, he looks down at himself. Currently, he’s wearing nothing but the thick, red ribbon around his neck—tied in a bow but looking more like a collar—and a pair of skimpy red shorts. Madame has an array of clothes for her pretty pet all in the wardrobe in Armitage’s own bedroom so he goes there and begins looking through the clothes, wondering what would look best to impress his admirer for their first meeting. The black fox is always bare-chested and barefoot but wears knee-length black leggings and a long, black cape that looks like it could be made from the fur of his prey—or perhaps, another neko who dared go against him—so it’s unlikely that the fox would be too concerned with Armitage’s outfit.

But still. He wants to look nice for, what he considers to be, a first date.

Leaving his red shorts on, Armitage adorns a simple white shirt—one that’s a little short around the middle to reveal a classy amount of his soft belly—and a white hooded cloak, one that has a long slit up the back to allow his tail to be free. He may be a little chilly but he feels good in this outfit, showing off his pale skin in all of the right places. He slips on a pair of his diamante-encrusted slippers and heads downstairs, ignoring the platters of food that Madame has left out for him. There’s only one thing he wants right now and it isn’t that kind of meal. He’s hungry for something else.

Armitage quickly finds the key to the back door and he’s out onto the porch in the cool September air without hesitation, though gets overwhelmed after he takes his first breath of fresh, outdoor air in a long while. He’s a solely indoor fox, a neko bred for humans to adopt and keep as their pets. He has never known anything other than his warm windowsill, never even felt the grass beneath his toes—but by the looks of the dampness that covers the grass on the edge of the porch where he stands, he doesn’t want to feel it and he’s more concerned with his pretty shoes getting ruined.

But the very moment that Armitage looks up and finds the black fox staring at him from across the way, everything else becomes irrelevant.

Armitage’s first step onto the outside ground is met with disinterest as he walks across the Hux’s perfect back garden, through the back gate and out into the so-called wilderness; the patch of unowned land between the Hux’s mansion and the forest.

The black fox looks as handsome as ever, though as he gets closer to him, Armitage can see a scar that runs across his face, one that looks like 3 parallel claw marks that cascades over one eye and down his cheek. A battle wound, Armitage assumes. He finds himself shivering at the thought of the black fox being feral.

Armitage, in his white cloak, stands opposite the black fox and flags his tail in a sign of friendliness. From the safety of his windowsill, Armitage hadn’t quite realised just how much wider the other fox’s physique was compared to his own. He’s very broad-shouldered, but it only makes his cape and his stature look more regal, like a forest king.

“Hello,” Armitage speaks in his native fox-tongue, hoping that the black fox speaks the same language as him. His hopes of that are seemingly slashed in half when the other fox cocks his head at him and begins to close the gap between them with small steps, his dark gaze examining every inch of Armitage’s body as he moves closer.

Could Armitage have been wrong all this time? Is this fox about to claw him and sling him over his shoulder to be tonight’s meal? How naïve of him to think that a handsome, feral fox could possibly—

But the black fox drops to his knees very suddenly and bows his head as he reaches out for Armitage’s hand, taking it and placing a very gentle kiss on his knuckles.

“Taa’mia risaan,” the fox says, his voice deep and perfect.

But Armitage hasn’t a clue what he’s said, “I-I’m sorry?”

The black fox looks up, his dark hair falling around his face, “It’s forest-speak for ‘you are beautiful’. Very beautiful.”

Armitage feels himself blushing. “Thank you. You’re handsome yourself, Mr…”

“Ren,” the fox stands up, still holding onto Armitage’s hand and gives it another kiss. “Kylo Ren. I am Master and Leader of these woods.”

“I’m Armitage.”

“I’ve never seen a fox like you before,” Kylo says, sniffing the air a little. “Those humans. They stole you?”

“No,” Armitage shakes his head, looking back up to the house. He can see his windowsill from here, so close but so far at the same time. “Those people are my owners. They keep me warm and feed me and buy me things.”

“Red foxes have not been in these woods for centuries. I did not know they still existed but you captivated me the moment I saw you through the glass.” Kylo leans in to Armitage, clearly unaware of personal space so the closeness makes Armitage widen his eyes. “Your hair. It’s like a crown of copper.”

“Master Ren—”

“Kylo.”

“Kylo. I only have a limited time away before my owners are back and I must be back inside before then,” Armitage explains. “I want to know everything about you. And more.”

Armitage can’t help it. He turns around and lifts his tail up, revealing his perfectly peachy ass in his tight, red shorts. He half expects the fox to begin howling like a wolf at the sight but he doesn’t though he begins breathing deeply, his hot breath on Armitage’s neck just as the latter feels teeth begin to scrape against his skin. He almost melts back against Kylo’s chest.

“Your cape,” Kylo says quietly. “It is getting dirty.”

Before Armitage can complain about the change of topic, he’s swept up into Kylo’s strong arms as though he weighs nothing. Armitage can barely contain his glee.

“I suppose you have a den in these woods, Kylo,” Armitage says, raising an eyebrow and wrapping his arms around his admirer’s neck.

“I do, my pretty red thing,” he replies, carrying his new mate into the forest, “But forgive me for wanting to bring you some dinner first. For a pampered pet, you are much too thin.”

“Careful, Kylo. I can leap out of your arms and go straight back home.”

“Oh, Armitage,” Kylo growls, making Armitage smile and sending shivers across the red fox’s skin in excitement. “I’d like to see you try.”

#kylux #fox hux #fox kylo #this was a lot of fun to write! thank you so much for this lovely prompt!#m:writing

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btswishes · 4 years ago

Text

Mistakes made

BTS Au (Medieval x Fantasy)

Chapter 1 “Welcome to the rest of your life” / Part2

A/N: This is a trial run of an idea I have with Taehyung. I would really appreciate some feed back on it. This chapter is not much since it is just an introduction so far. Sorry for any mistakes made.

Word count: 2,115

Warmings: Blood, killing, torture and murder, graphic content

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Candle flames dancing under the command of the wind. A candied tango in pair with the ringing laughter and fulfillment, radiating from the near by village. What a sweet place it looked like, carefree. The music was loud and so were their voices, your eyes but a mere mirror reflecting the light.

In front of you there was the pureness of life, behind you the end. Agonizing screams ran through the hallways, reaching even the deepest of crevasses in the walls. The voices soon came to a blood curdling stop, letting a veil of silence fall over the building. The moon kept illuminating the titan like façade of the castle, buried deep between the forest trees.

Eerie sounds acquainted themselves with your home. Soft, tinted in the colors of nightmares, were your clothes. The bone chilling cold could not reach your as the garments shielded your elbow from the stone sill of the window, gently flowing away from your skin further up they went. Refreshing coolness lingered onto your arm, opposite of the elegant and gentle palm on which you were resting your chin, as you marveled at the distant festival.

“You are looking at them again.” the deep voice behind you did not come as a surprise “ Wasting time away with meaningless celebrations.”

“You speak like we ourselves do not celebrate.” your lips parted gently- chin pressing into your skin

“Do not lump us together with the likes of them!” a mild sound echoed in the room, as a towel hit the wall aggressively “We celebrate success! Achievements! Not...living another year. ”

Your eyes moved to their corners, focusing onto the discarded piece of cloth laying on your floor “Brother, as much of a vulgar man as you may be, I would wish for you to refrain from such manners.” his head crooked to the side “ Next time do not tarnish my room with your blood soaked towels. I do quite fancy for that carpet to stay snow white, than be tainted with the crimson color of some unknown corps.” you hissed at him, coaxing a loud laugh.

He took a few steps and picked his belongings up from the ground. “ Would it have satisfied you if it belonged to an innocent noble, or is red not your cup of tea sister?” he spoke calmly

“No soul that enters these walls has even the tiniest drop of innocence in their blood. Filthy bugs thinking they can overthrow father and receive titles from some unknow king, disgusting. So please refrain from bring such filth in my room. I can smell how rotten this man was from just that cloth.” leaning back, you stretch gently. Your words hopefully reached your brother, leaving a permanent mark on his mind. The carpet though was already filthy.

“I shall try my best dear sister, with the next batch of bumbling idiots arriving tonight.” your heels clicked and clanked under the flooring. Candle flames took over your eyes, as your hand lifted the white wax cylinder out of its holder, dropping it onto the soft hairs of the carpet. The small spark soon engulfed the fur rug into a violent flame. “A shame. It was so pure once.”

“Y/N, now why would you do that my darling.” a tall dark eerie figure stood by your door, towering over your brother with ease. His steps were heavy, loud and unbelievably fast. He walked past the small fire like it was nothing and laid his big hand onto your cheek, encouraging you to lean into it. “ Wasn’t this your favorite carpet in the whole house. Your eyes used to light up the moment you saw it.”

“It was tainted father but dirty blood.” you spoke, emphasizing on the stain

“We could have washed it like the dungeons. No one would have known what was on the hairs.” his voice reassuring you

“If Yunan was a bit more considered and not a vulgar beast, this wouldn’t have happened.” your eyes glistened as the flames under you sored in the air with your anger

“Now now. I said I was sorry. I tend to forget how fragile and elegant my little sister is. Mostly during hunting season.” your brother sighed, rubbing the back of his neck “How about I compensate you?” your ears perked up.

“How so?”

“Ramel and I will take you hunting again so you can slay another snow tiger.” your eyes widened at the offer

“I will skin it for you again my princess.”your father ran his hand through your hair when the flame extinguished under you, leaving no trace of a carpet ever being there. The sound of horses pulled your attention towards the window with a glance of your eye “ Seeing as you both settled that, let us join your brother in welcoming our new guests. Yunan?” your brother smirked, his arms rising to his sides

“Their new homes have been emptied out, we just want our sweet Y/N to come and finish the disposal, as per usual.” with a nod of approval your father walked over and placed his big hand onto Yunan’s shoulder.

“I expect you to behave next time in your sister’s room.” from such height, his eyes glowed in anger.

“Yes father.”

With the head of the family walking out first, the newcomers saw fear on two legs. His vest was black, tiny compared to his massive frame, contrasting the white fox tail resting upon his left shoulder. His eyes were just as the animal upon his body, lines bend upwards into a creepy smile.

“Welcome to my lovely home. My name is Wiraem and I shall be your host on this beautiful full moon.” his arms rose in acceptance “I hope you like it here, since...” his eyes opened up still keeping the half moon shape, as a smile exposed his teeth “You won’t be leaving here again.”

“How many is it this time around?” Yunan fixed his suit, speaking out towards a tall figure. He was almost the height of your father. His hair was dark and slicked back, face stoic and cold. This was Ramel, a handsome man with a body giving the illusion it was made from the strongest matter on earth.

“About 10.” he threw a man in front of your younger brother’s feet “I caught them doing the usual snopping, trap laying and all that comes with trying to assassinate us.” your hand rubbed over your arms as the night winds cooled off your body more than desired. The men under your feet couldn’t speak, they were trembling in what one could call fear, not even noticing you. Your father’s expression changed, softened as he heard you next to him.

“Yunan, Ramel get them all in. Let’s introduce our new housemates to their rooms.” With a swift motion of his huge arm, he picked you up. The warmth from your father’s body was pleasant, letting yourself indulge in it as you grabbed onto him. The walk to the dungeons was long and slow, your family did not enjoy rushing things. The night was not young anymore leading you to be swept away by the lullaby of silence. Fatherly and gentle, his movements did not even let your body twitch with his step. Skilled he was after all. No one dared to make even the smallest peep, it became an unwritten rule.

Your father looked upon you with warmth. Yunan would crack an occasional smirk looking at your peaceful sleep, resting so calmly with the lingering smell of blood not even alarming you. Ramel was one to show his emotions through actions more than face, which he did removing a strand of hair from yours.

*Clank*

Someone’s chains sung out, before being picked up in panic. As rudely as the song hand been silenced, it was not fast enough - noticed by the family, stopping their steps. The man froze, no breath, no sound, not even a faint heartbeat. The three men turned to face him in unison flashing him disgust, a smile filled with murder and a stone face that could do anything.

“Mmm.” you mumbled under your nose, nuzzling yourself into your father’s chest. The sign of you potentially waking up contorted their faces. The smile was accompanied with blood shot eyes, Ramel’s head crooked up half covered by a shade casted upon his face and Yunan expressing even more anger.

“Would you look at that.” you father whispered sending chills over the already sweating humans “ It seems as though one of our lovely visitors just disappeared. I wonder where he went?”

Wind blew the curtain in the hallway ,as a howl joined inside. As the fabric calmed down the rest of the new arrivals noticed that their number had gone down by one - 9. The man that dared to make a sound was gone without one. No one noticed, no one saw, he just vanished. Magic was common in these times, yet this was far beyond what any wizard kin could explain.

“Hmmm silence.” Yunan smiled “Keep it that way.” he pulled on the shirt of a man with dark long locks of hair and thick eyelashes, the aura of a bear cub. His heart was calm, focused on you with bubbling interest and sane.

The men kept looking around the dungeons. They looked clean, they looked like no one used or had used them, but there was a residual stench that one would notice immediately. A mix of old and fresh warm blood, maybe a few hours old and a few minutes new. The prisoners stopped in their tracks, falling back as silently as they could, as they laid eyes upon the scene in front of them.

A pile of human remains if you could even call them that at this point. Bodies, parts of them all randomly throw upon one another and the star on top of the tree, our lovely missing tenant number 10.

“Oh my.”your father gasped “I am sorry to have shown you this. How unconsidered of me.” His head shifted towards the men “ I forgot to make sure your old roommates left for good. Seems as though they couldn’t...”

Their voices were stuck in their throats, stomachs convulsing trying to keep whatever food they had down. The floor wasn’t chilling no more, you could say the fear conjured such drop of their temperature, that they were making the room colder. Heart beats were faintly heard as all of these men, these soldiers, assassins and who knows what ,were ready to piss themselves at such sight. How useless. Coming here and thinking war could have prepared them for this land. One of them, one of them was still trying to stay calm. Young and so mentally strong.

“Princess?” the gentle warmth ran over your cheek “My little flower petal.” you frowned and tried to roll up in a smaller ball “It pains me to wake up so rudely my angel, but daddy needs your help.” the men watched as your half asleep self rose gently, leaning onto your father’s shoulders for support. Eyes still heavy, you peeked gently. The rocks beneath everyone illuminated in a faint golden color of fire.

“ Evanescet...” but a faint whisper sneaking out from in between your tinted lips. Blazing fires enveloped the bodies, the flames sounding like the agonizing screams of their souls, as they vanished into thin air. Never to be seen again.

The flames spread around, igniting all organic lifeless matter. Blood stains burned with passion, leaving only the stone cold walls and floors spotless clean. The smell was gone and the room filled with the crisp night breeze. For a moment it felt like no one had ever stepped foot inside these rooms.

“Thank you my little rose.”

Ramel stepped closer, placing his hand over your eyes, closing them. His gentle side put you back to sleep almost immediately, picking you up in his own embrace. Your father removed the fox fur off his shoulder and made sure to tuck you in well in your brother’s arms. With a swift motion, Yunan removed your shoes and hooked their ankle straps onto his slender fingers.

“I never understood why she chose such uncomfortable garments.” sighing, his hands ran over the small red patch of skin, heeling it. ”I have gotten her so many boots, yet here we are.” The prisoners were astonished at the warmth these men had for you and only you.

“We are not meant to understand ladies, but marvel them and protect.” Ramel tore the silence with his deep, sharp voice filled with righteousness. You drifting off slowly but surely, eyes turned in the direction of one boy. His front chunky eyelashes battered at you ,as his lightly tinted skin glowed in the moonlight . His face was too serious and focused on you, yet sleep took over and you drifted off again.

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