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anti-the-glitch-bitch · 4 years ago

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Into the void

Chapter 2

Word Count: 3,054

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I am abruptly awakened by an annoying poking in my side. I groan a bit and try to slap the annoyance away. The poking in my side stops, but now there is a finger poking my cheek nonstop.

“Okay. I’m up. Just stop poking me with that infernal finger before I bite it off.” At that moment, maniacal laughter echoes in the closet. “Anti?” I’m still half asleep when I open my eyes. Beautiful blue eyes are looking straight into mine.

“Ha-ha. Still half asleep, are ya?” Sean chuckles as I scramble for my phone. My cheeks are on fire the moment I hear his cute Irish boi accent. After scrambling for what seems like hours, I finally manage to turn the video off. “Yeah, I guess I am. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I must have been super tired from the flight.” I mumble as I try not to freak out again. Sitting up, I look over at Sean and realize he is sitting on the floor. He must have seen my confusion because he scoots back a bit. “I figured if I was sitting on the floor, ya might not throw another loaf of bread at me.”

“Mark is never going to let me live that down. When I die, it will read. Here lies Bri. She threw a loaf of bread at Sean’s face. Sorry about that, by the way. My body went into panic mode and decided to attack?” Sean just laughs at me and starts to stand up.

“Neither of us will. I wouldn’t be surprised if he makes a commemorative video and tells his fans about all of this. I’m just glad it was soft.” Sean smirks and holds a hand out to me. I hesitated very briefly before taking his hand. With a quick tug, Sean has me out of the closet and on my feet. Huh. Sean is a lot taller than I realized. I mean, I didn’t think he was super short, but I thought he was my height. I’m 5’7”, so I’m not exactly short either, but he seems to be about the same size as Mark.

I stretch for a minute, trying to work the kinks out from sleeping in the closet. Sean walks over to the door to give me a bit of space. Which I very much appreciate. I can’t hear the conniving bastard anywhere, and that makes me very concerned. That means he could be plotting my next humiliating moment.

“You know he did that on purpose, right?” My question seems to confuse him. He cocks his head slightly with a questioning look. “He knows I’m a spazz, so Mark waited to tell me you were gonna stay here, at the second, just to see what happened. Though I don’t think it went down exactly as he expected.”

We stare at each other for a moment before we both start to laugh. It takes a few seconds for us to calm down. “That does sound like something he would do. He told me you were staying here for a while, but he didn’t warn me that I would have to watch out for flying objects!”

“Exactly! I’m sure he’s hiding somewhere plotting his next big prank.”

“I don’t think so? He told me he had to finish recording. I figured the least I could do was make your lunch since it looks like I interrupted the two of you. That’s why I came looking for ye.” Sean looks so adorable when he blushes. It’s only a slight tinge, but it stands out on his pale skin. It gives me some ideas for a prank or two in the future. “I don’t think I like the look on your face. That’s the kind of look that Mark has when he is up to something.” He backs into the hallway with his hands up as if I might attack him.

I give him an innocent smile as I follow him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m just going to the kitchen.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, we’ll just see about that.” We joke the entire way to the kitchen. My anxiety is all but forgotten.

My eyes must be playing tricks on me because as Sean passes a mirror in the hallway, his reflection seems to flicker. For a second, it looks like Anti, green hair and all. Very strange because he hasn’t dyed his hair in forever. His hair is his natural brown color.

What in the actual fuck is going on with me today? It must be because I fell asleep watching those videos. I’m starting to doubt my sanity. I’ll have to lay off the Dark\Anti obsession for a while. Otherwise, someone might try to commit me to a nuthouse.

“Bri? You ok over there?” My head snaps to the kitchen, where Sean is standing by the island. I realize I’m just standing in front of the mirror. I take one last look into it, but all I see is me. “Um. Yeah. For a minute, I thought I saw….” I shake my head, realizing how crazy I would sound if I finished that sentence. “Nothing. Never mind.” I smile when I walk over and see a plate with a couple of sandwiches on it.

“If you’re sure.” He returns my smile and pushes the plate towards me. There is a flash of some emotion in his eyes before it disappears. Worry? Concern? I shrug it off and go rummage in the fridge for something to drink. Cans of Mountain Dew are sitting on the bottom level. Ah, my sweet addiction. Mark makes fun of me all the time because I usually have one with me. Yeah, it’s terrible to drink if as much as I do, but I really don’t care.

“So, any idea on how long Mark is gonna be holed up there?” I start digging into one of the sandwiches. Sean looks up from his phone and laughs. “How do you feel about being on camera?”

“What?”

“I said, how do you feel about being on camera?” Sean puts his hands on his hips, giving me a giant smile. “Um...Ok, I guess? Why?” I have no idea what’s going through his head, so I’m just going to roll with it.

“Great! Mark’s getting everything ready now, but in 20 minutes, all his fans are goin ta know we are staying here. You’re going to make your first appearance on the channel!” He is so enthusiastic about this that it’s hard to say no to him. “It’ll be great! All you’ll have to do is say hi. Mark probably won’t start recording until we get in the room. So, hurry up and eat. I’m goin ta see if Mark needs any help setting up.” He slaps my back and is practically bouncing as he leaves the kitchen. I watch the mirror as he walks past it, but nothing weird happens.

I really, really, really need to lay off those videos. They’re making me hallucinate. Either that or the flight messed me up more than I thought. I sigh and start thinking about this new development that Mark has thrown at me unexpectedly. I should have known Mark would have more than one trick up his sleeve. First, it was Sean, and now it’s getting me on camera. I really am going to murder him. Slowly. Like maybe Criminal Minds style. Munching on the sandwiches, I start scheming at ways to get back at Mark. I’m just finishing the second sandwich when my phone goes off.

Mark: Hey, you finished yet?

Bri: Just finished. Why?

Mark: We have everything set up. We’re just about ready for you to come in.

Bri: Give me 10 min. Let me brush my raggedy ass hair and maybe put on a new top.

Mark: Let me know when you’re done.

I put my plate in the sink and grab my drink. Rushing upstairs, I hear laughter coming from down the hall. It sounds like the guys are having fun. When I get to the guest bedroom, I immediately start looking in the duffel bag for my brush. It only takes a few seconds to find it. My hair is short, black with forest green highlights thrown in here and there. It doesn’t take very long to get it thrown up in a high ponytail.

Next, I rummage through the suitcases until I find my Loki shirt. I head to the bathroom to make sure I look semi-decent. The hairs on the back of my neck start standing up, and I get the creepy sensation that somebody is watching me. The mirror doesn’t show anything, but I look around me because I be paranoid like that. There’s really nothing in here with me, but the sensation only gets stronger.

“Back off, ya spooky bitch!” I sort of whisper/shout in the bathroom. I still can’t find anything here, but it never hurts to set boundaries, in case of, you know…. ghosts. That weird feeling fades away, and I feel like I can breathe again.

Well, that’s not terrifying at all. I check the mirror one last time, grab my drink, and head to Mark’s recording room. I can hear Sean’s voice but can’t make out what he is saying.

Bri: Yo. I’m outside the door.

Mark: Come on in.

“What’s happenin Cap’n?” I saunter into the room and see Mark and Sean sitting at the desk that’s along the far wall. They both turn to look at me with a slight smirk. There is an extra chair by Mark that I head towards.

“Hey, guys!! I know you thought Sean was the surprise guest, and he is, but I have someone else I want to introduce you to. This is my best friend, Bri. We grew up in Cincinnati, and she has finally decided to come for a visit.: Mark laughs into the camera as I give him a push.

“Hardy har har. It’s not my fault you moved so far away, you little shit. Keep it up, and I’ll start posting pics. You thought the Septiplier ship had sailed before? It’ll be 20 times worse once I send these bad boys out into the world.” Mark starts groaning while Sean holds his hands up.

“Whoa. Whoa. Hold it there. Don’t bring me into the equation. I didn’t do anything. I’m pretty sure that ship doesn’t need any more references.” We giggle, and I start looking at the screens in front of me.

One monitor has a bunch of technical stuff up along with a box showing the three of us. Another screen has a chatbox that seems to be really active. Comments are flying by so fast that it’s tough to read, though one reoccurring word catches my eye. Checking my phone really quickly, my suspicion is confirmed. “Hey, so I have a question I need to ask everyone watching.” I stand and get behind Mark. I place my hands on his shoulders and start squeezing. Not enough to hurt but enough for me to feel him tense a little. “How mad would y’all be if I murdered our Markimoo here? I was under the impression I would be on a video, not walking into a Live stream.”

I give Sean a smirk that instantly puts him on guard.” Neither did Sean. I’m thinking that they might need to beg for forgiveness.”

“He told me not to tell you!!” Sean instantly points his finger at Mark while laughing. “I’m too adorable to be murdered, plus I was afraid if I told you, you wouldn’t show up, and then people would think I was crazy.” Mark leans his head back, giving me puppy dog eyes.

“Fineeeeeee. I won’t murder you, but you’ll have to make it up to me with a very incriminating picture. I’ll be taking the picture so I can post it later, and you won’t be able to delete it.” I ruffle the hair on his head as I get back to my seat. They both give a big dramatic groan. “Now, do you see why I wanted her to show up, though I am slightly regretting it.” His gestures get wilder the more animated he gets. It’s all I can do not to rub my hands together and cackle like a witch.

The stream goes on like this for a few hours. The three of us crack jokes and play a few games together. I watch the chat and answer the questions I can catch. Sometimes they are about me, but a lot are about Mark and Sean. Most of those are just about wanting a shout-out from the guys.

It’s about 6 pm when I finally have to call it quits. Even with the nap I had, I was tired. “Alright, everyone, I enjoyed being here with you guys, far more than I thought I would, but I’m outta here. It was my first time going across the country, and my body is yelling at me for it.” I wave my hand at the camera and try to suppress a yawn. Mark and Sean make cute little pouts and give a fake sigh. “Aww, well, if you must. Everyone give Bri a round of applause. She is a natural in front of the camera. I might even have her join in some of my other videos.”

I take a bow and walk sluggishly towards the door. As I open the door, I feel a hand gently lay itself on my shoulder. I throw an elbow back, thinking it’s Mark, but I don’t make contact with anything. I quickly turn around and make karate-chopping motions, but no one is near me. The guys are still at the desk. Sean looks back at me and starts laughing. “What the fuck are ya doin? I thought you were leavin?”

I do a few more karate chops, just to be funny before I straighten up. “I’m pretty sure a spider tried to attack me; I’m showing it who’s boss. I doubt it will ever try that again, now that it knows I have mad skills.” Mark and Sean laugh and go back to what they are doing. I continue on my way out, severely freaked out. Chica is lying just outside the door, and when she sees me come out, she starts wagging her tail.

“Who’s a good girl? That’s right, you are the bestest doggo in the world!” I love on her a bit and then pat my leg to get her to follow. “Come on, girl. Let’s go outside for a bit. This house is being a spoopy bitch, and I don’t like being inside a horror game.”

We make it outside without an incident. I immediately go flop in the grass on my stomach. I’ve been here less than 24 hours, and I’ve seen some weird shit in the house. I would chalk it all up to ghosts, but that doesn’t explain why I saw Anti in that mirror. I know I still haven’t been sleeping but a few hours here and there, but that shouldn’t make me see things, should it?

There is no way the egos are real. They’re just something Mark and Sean made up. I may like the concept of them, but there is no way I want to meet Anti or Dark for real. Chica comes over to me, trying to lick my face, causing me to laugh. “Alright, girl. Let’s go back into the spooky house because I need some sleep. If I can…” We go inside, and I go back to the guest room. I don’t even bother changing into my pj’s. I just flop into the bed, falling right to sleep.

The Darkness is alive.

My heart is in my throat as I jerk awake. The dreams are all a blur, but I vaguely remember the Darkness trying to hurt me. The bedroom is pitch black, and I struggle to find my phone on the side table. After searching for what seems like hours, I finally find it and check the time. It’s only 3 am, way too early to be up.

I can’t sleep anymore, so I get up to get a drink. Not sure if it’s remnant feelings from my dreams, but the darkness in the house feels alive. Almost suffocatingly so. I’m paranoid and jumpy as I walk to the kitchen. Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, I open the fridge and grab the milk. I really don’t need any sugar right now. After filling the glass, I put the milk back. That weird, creepy feeling is back, and I fucking hate it so much. I quickly close the fridge and turn around, punching the air in front of me.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I came here to get away from my life for a bit. Whatever you are, I don’t care! I haven’t even been here a day, so you need to quite with the spooky shit before I lose my damn mind!” I accentuate that with a few karate chops wildly thrown around.

A deep chuckle seems to come from all around me, making me run for the hills. I leave the milk and make a beeline for the stairs. I grab a pillow and the blanket from my bed and run for Mark’s room. The Darkness pulses as if alive, making me a trip on the blanket. I quickly right myself and quietly enter Mark’s room.

Mark’s bed is high enough off the ground that I can throw the pillow under the bed. I wrap myself in the blanket and slide under the bed. Like a child that knows the monster in the dark is real, I make sure every part of me is covered, including my head. This wasn’t going to be a comfortable place to lay, but I wasn’t staying in my room while this spooky stuff is going on. I was so going to talk to Mark about this in the morning.

“It’s not real,” I mumble to myself over and over again. Every once in a while, I throw in a “Leave me alone.” It feels like forever before everything starts to feel normal again, and I can fall back asleep.

A precious, dreamless sleep.

#darkiplier #antisepticeye #markiplier #jacksepticeye #spooky #horror #ao3 fanfic

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miraculousladyb · 5 years ago

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Battles

Happy holidays, @leviaana! I’m your Secret Santa for @mlsecretsanta this year! I wrote you this fanfic, and I really hope you enjoy it!

Title: Battles Summary: The events of Chat Blanc are still weighing heavily on Marinette’s mind. Themes: Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Romance Words: 3,121 Warnings: Very mild violence, spoilers for Season 3 including the episodes Chat Blanc and Miracle Queen

It was a blustery autumn afternoon in Paris. The trees had lost most of their foliage now, orange scattered the pavements as the leaves danced down the streets. A grey overcast sky hung dauntingly over the French capital, the top of the Eiffel Tower was no longer visible as it had been swallowed by the clouds. The temperature had dropped dramatically over the past couple of weeks, but it wasn't going to deter Marinette from sketching. The bitter breeze kissed her cheeks as she lay back in her balcony deck chair, absentmindedly scribbling away her latest dress design.

With all the new responsibilities that came with being the Guardian, Marinette found herself needing the distraction of designing more than ever. Her teenage years seemed to have suddenly dissipated with the arrival of the oversized, ladybug patterned cylinder that contained all the Miraculous. Thankfully once she was home and detransformed the box had changed into what looked like a big sewing kit with lots of little compartments. Even though it was in her bedroom drawer locked away most of the time the everlasting burden constantly weighed on her shoulders.

Her distraction didn't last too long as the skylight to her window burst open dramatically.

"Girl, I have got to show you these pics I got of Ladybug and Chat Noir last night, the Ladyblog is blowing up!” Alya said as she climbed through the skylight, immediately reaching for her phone in her back pocket.

“And hello to you too,” Marinette said, a sarcastic smirk across her lips. She closed her sketchbook and held it on her lap, knowing her best friend would require her full attention if she was fangirling.

“Nino and I were walking home from the cinema last night and I saw them! They have to be a couple, look how close they are!”

Marinette peered over her friend’s shoulder to see the photo in question and she couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto her face. She saw her alter ego and her partner sat on the edge of a random rooftop near the Louvre. Ever since she’d become the guardian, Chat had been worried about her. She noticed he started making a lot more effort during akuma fights; he saved the flirting and puns until the fight was over and instead focused on capturing the akuma as quickly as possible. It was a welcome change and took some of the weight from Marinette’s shoulders, but he was still concerned. In the photo in question, Chat had been quizzing her, asking how she was, how civilian life was going, was she coping with the stress. She’d smiled, hugged his arm and rested her head on his shoulder.

“As long as I’ve got you, kitty, everything will be okay.”

He’d blushed, placed a gentle kiss to her head, then rested his own head against hers.

Returning her gaze to Alya, Marinette said, “Nah, I don’t think they’re into each other like that.”

Alya scoffed.

***

Later that night, Tikki was awoken as her chosen shot up suddenly in bed, panting frantically, her breathing erratic.

“Marinette, are you okay?” the kwami asked as she floated over, placing her tiny paws on Marinette’s cheek. “Did you have another nightmare?”

Marinette nodded, still breathing heavily. She shut her eyes tightly as tears rolled down her cheeks, dampening Tikki’s paws.

“You really need to tell Chat about this,” Tikki said, gently. “You shouldn’t be facing this alone.”

“I’m not telling him,” Marinette said. “He’ll blame himself, even though whatever happened that caused him to get akumatised was clearly my fault!”

Tikki sighed gently. “Marinette, you don’t know that.”

“‘Our love caused this,’ is what he said, Tikki,” Marinette sighed, placing a hand to her chest as she tried to steady her heart rate. “I just keep seeing the way he looked at me before he Cataclysmed the beam I was standing on.”

Tikki folded her arms and tilted her head at her chosen sympathetically. “I still think you should talk to him. He cares about you, Marinette.”

“I’ll be fine, Tikki, let’s just go back to sleep. I’m sorry I woke you up,” Marinette said, before rolling over in bed to face away from her kwami. Tikki sighed softly, placing a gentle kiss in Marinette’s hair, before she returned to her spot on the pillow to return to sleep.

***

Despite what she’d said, Marinette didn’t get back to sleep that night. She’d cuddled her Chat Noir doll close to her chest and spent hours wondering what she’d done to hurt her partner so badly.

Naturally, she was late to school that morning. She mumbled a half-hearted apology to Miss Bustier as she slid into her seat beside Alya. She realised she must look a mess this morning, because Adrien was eyeing her over his shoulder, concern drowning in his eyes. She was trying hard to let her feelings for Adrien go, having learnt he couldn’t be trusted with her identity after what happened prior to Chat Blanc, she knew it was a ship that was never going to sail.

“You okay, M? You look like you haven’t slept in weeks,” Alya whispered as Miss Bustier began reading out the daily announcements.

“I’m fine,” Marinette said, forcing a smile. “I just didn’t sleep great. I’ll have a nap during lunch break.”

Miss Bustier dismissed them to their first class a few minutes later and as Marinette went to grab her bag it flipped upside down, most of the contents spilling out across the classroom floor. She groaned and bent down to pick up her things, ignoring Chloe’s sarcastic comment as she did so. She went to grab her pencil case, but another hand beat her to it. She looked up to see Adrien bent down too, helping her collect her belongings. He flashed her a gorgeous, gentle smile that made her begrudgingly melt inside.

“You okay? You’ve not been yourself lately,” Adrien said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Marinette snorted. “I’m still as clumsy as ever, don’t worry.”

They carried on picking up her things, but Adrien’s focus was on the girl beside him. “You know I don’t mean that. You’ve been really tired and distracted for weeks now… You know you can talk to me about anything right?”

Her heart snapped, because she knew that wasn’t true, even if he did want to mean it. She forced a smile regardless.

“I know, Adrien, thank you. I’ve just not been sleeping well, don’t worry about me.”

He finished collected her things and handed her bag. “Thank you for helping me, I’m such a klutz,” Marinette said with a sigh.

Adrien chuckled lightly. “You’re perfect just the way you are. Can I walk you to our next class?”

She took his arm gratefully. “You can, but I won’t promise I won’t fall asleep on you again.”

***

Marinette cursed Hawkmoth using several different swear words as a collective of screams sounded in the distance. She was across the street from her home, ready for her lunch break nap, when the akuma alarm began to blur across the streets. Diving into a nearby alleyway, she shared a mutual look of disdain with Tikki before calling for her kwami to transform her.

Soon enough she was running across the rooftops towards the sound of the screaming, Chat Noir by her side seconds later.

“Hey, LB, you know anything about the akuma?” her partner asked. She shook her head.

“No, surprisingly it seems Hawkmoth hasn’t chosen a target from the local high school for once,” she said with an eye-roll.

Chat snorted. “Yeah, it seems like the akuma’s near the Eiffel Tower. She’s shot a few people with her laser beam according to the news but no-one’s truly sure what her power is yet.”

Ladybug sighed. “Guess we’ll just have to stay away from those laser beams then.”

The pair landed near the Eiffel Tower, the akuma not too far in the distance. She called herself Sherry Holmes, a Sherlock Holmes pun that even made Chat Noir groan.

“Sherry Holmes? What is she solving murder mysteries as a power?” Chat shook his head with a sigh, scanning the area. Ladybug furrowed her eyes, watching for any change in people as they got hit.

“I still sleep with my teddy bear!”

“I spend my Saturday nights watching Sex and the City!”

“I’m in love with my best friend’s wife!”

The superhero pair shared a look. “Well, fair to say this akuma is weird,” Ladybug replied.

“Ah, Ladybug and Chat Noir!” the akuma shouted, rushing over to them, shooting laser beams as she went. Marinette didn’t usually approve of Hawkmoth’s akuma designs, but this one was quite cute. She had the classic supervillain pale skin and dark eyes, but a plaid detective hat rested on her head with a matching bowtie around her neck and a beige trench coat encircling her. In her hand was a magnifying glass that she was shooting laser beams from. “So nice of you to join us, why don’t you tell us your darkest secrets?”

Panic flashed across Ladybug’s face as a laser beam came hurtling toward her. She dived out of the way just in time, Chat Noir following in her wake.

“Do you think the akuma’s in her magnifying glass?” Chat asked, scanning over her as he dodged the laser beams.

“I’m not sure, that or she has something in her trench coat pockets,” Ladybug replied.

“Good thinking, I’ll bet you’re- ahhh!” Chat cried out as a laser beam hit him, suddenly standing frozen to the stop. Ladybug gasped as she rushed to his side. “My name is A-”

Terrified, Ladybug did the only thing she could to do to silence her partner and pressed her mouth against his, capturing his confession with her lips. He didn’t have time to react once the beam’s effects had worn off as she quickly pulled away, dragging him with her, to avoid getting hit by another laser beam.

“You okay, kitty?” Ladybug asked. Chat nodded, dazed, as he’d landed on top of her.

“Yeah, no more confessions ready to slip out, m’Lady.”

They rolled out the way to avoid another laser beam. Chat shook his head, his mind was whirling at a hundred miles an hour after his kiss from Ladybug, but he had to focus.

They separated again, running on opposite sides of the street. Chat’s eyes darted around the villain, trying to work out where the akuma was. Glancing at his partner he could tell she was doing the same, but something in her gaze was distracted. Suddenly, she tripped, and taking her stumble to her advantage, Sherry Holmes took aim.

The beam hit her and she felt herself frozen to the spot. Chat, on the other side of the road, looked at her with sheer panic. She could feel the words bubbling up her throat but she couldn't stop them, she couldn't move anything except her mouth.

"I'm in love with you!"

The words left her lips as he reached half a foot away from her. Her eyes went wide and she smacked her palms against her mouth as if she could somehow smother the confession back in.

She had been sure that when Chat had been akumatised and had looked at her with pure hatred that nothing could hurt her more. But the way he looked at her in that moment, his eyes wide with shock and hurt, his mouth gaping in confusion, she was sure she could feel her heart breaking in her chest.

"Oh god," she breathed. "Chat..."

Sherry Holmes, meanwhile, looked very unimpressed. "Wow, like I need to be a detective to work that one out. Guess I need to hit you again to find out your identity!"

Still stunned, Ladybug didn't even flinch as a beam hurtled toward her. Chat grabbed her and pulled her away just in time.

"Call your Lucky Charm," he instructed calmly, refusing to meet her eyes. "I'll distract her."

He didn't give her chance to reply before he bounded off, swiping left and right at Sherry Holmes with his baton as he dodged her attacks. It took a few seconds but Ladybug shook herself out of her stunned stance.

"Lucky Charm!" she yelled to sky, as she pulled her trademark pose. A handheld mirror materialised above her and landed in her hand. She ducked as a beam suddenly went shooting over her head. "Wow, Tikki, you really gave me a simple one today. Guess you can tell my brain is fried."

The heroine stormed toward the akuma, smirking as she did.

"Hey Shezza, I'm right here, just try and hit me!" she taunted.

The akuma snarled, swiping Chat Noir aside so she could take aim at the bug. Just as the beam was about to hit her, Ladybug held the mirror in front of her, deflecting the beam back at Sherry Holmes. She couldn't react quick enough and the beam struck her.

"The akuma is hiding in my trench coat pocket!" she announced, her face horrified.

"How kind of you to share," Chat grinned, reaching into her pocket to reveal a mobile phone. He smashed it the ground as Ladybug opened her yoyo.

"Bye bye, little butterfly," Ladybug sighed, watching as it flew off into the distance. The akuma victim returned to her human form; a petite brunette with deep brown eyes and a pink floral dress, covered by a similar trench coat she'd had as an akuma.

Chat Noir was about to walk over to her when a hand on his arm stopped him.

"Chat," Ladybug said softly, her voice breaking. A heavy tension held between them as their eyes met. Ladybug felt her legs shake with anxiety as her heart pounded against her ribcage, her chest feeling so tight she could barely remember how to breathe. "Please let me explain."

Chat glanced at the akuma victim before returning his gaze to his partner.

"Go and recharge and I'll make sure she's okay. I'll meet you at our usual spot," he replied. His tone wasn't necessarily cold but it held a horrible sense of formality that didn't sit well with Ladybug. She hadn't missed how he'd avoided their usual victory routine either.

She nodded, dropping her hand from his shoulder and her eyes to the ground as she blinked back tears.

With one last glance back the cat superhero, who was now knelt down next to the akuma victim with a comforting hand on her shoulder, she dashed off to find a place to recharge.

Half an hour later, Ladybug found Chat waiting for her on 'their' rooftop; it was actually some random Parisians' rooftop, but it their favourite place to meet up, it was secluded but still gave a great view of the city.

His legs were hanging off the edge of the rooftop, his hands resting on the guttering. She approached him slowly, taking tentative steps across the rooftops as though they might crumble beneath her feet. His head suddenly turned in her direction and she jumped in surprise, but quickly composed herself as she brought herself to stand behind him. She was surprised again when he spoke first.

"The akuma victim, her name is Amy, had suspicions her boyfriend was cheating on her but he always denied it. She was convinced he was gaslighting her, so she investigated and found out he had been sleeping with someone from work. Then she got akumatised."

"That's awful. Was she okay?" Ladybug asked softly, refusing to meet his eyes.

"No, but she will be. I waited with her until her friend came to meet her."

"That's because you're one of the sweetest people on the planet," she said gently. She looked up when Chat scoffed, standing up to face her. "What? It's true."

"If it's true, why are you so ashamed to have feelings for me?" Chat spat. "Why is that your darkest secret? Not your identity but the fact," he paused as his voice cracked. He broke eye contact for a moment and when his gaze returned his eyes were brimming with tears. "That you’re in love with me. That's your darkest secret..."

"Because I can't love you," she shouted, tears rolling down her mask. Her words echoed across the rooftops surrounding them. “Our love could cause the end of the world!”

Chat blinked, taking a step back in surprise. “What… What do you mean?”

Ladybug took a shaky breath, her voice barely a whisper. “A few months ago, Bunnix grabbed me and took me to the future. She wouldn’t tell me anything about the context, obviously, but the world was in pieces. Paris was destroyed. The only one left was you; you’d been akumatised…” she closed her eyes, blinking back more tears. “You told me it was because of me, because of us…”

Chat sighed gently. He walked toward her and wrapped his arms around her tightly. "Why didn't you tell me this?" he murmured into her hair.

"Because you'd blame yourself, I know you."

"You mean like you're doing right now? Bug, you've got enough going on with the guardianship. You need to tell me if somethings bothering you."

She nodded into his chest. “I know, thank you,” she murmured before she paused. “There’s more.”

“Go on.”

“You knew who I was. I was transformed and you called me my civilian name.”

There was a long pause at that. “Oh,” Chat said softly. “Wow. Um, did you know who I was?”

“I don’t know, but I think so? I think we were together.”

Another long pause, Ladybug laughed ironically.

“A lot to take in, right?”

Chat chuckled lightly. “Knowing I had everything I’ve dreamed of but someone took it away, yeah, just a bit…”

“I took it away,” Ladybug whispered and he held her tighter.

“You did no such thing, I don’t care what akumatised me from another timeline told you, but there has to be more to it than us being in love…” he paused, his cheeks flushing. “After all, we’re in love now, aren’t we?”

She looked up to meet his eyes, sadness drowning her blue irises. “Chat, we can’t. Not until Hawkmoth is defeated, at least…”

Chat’s ears perked up at that. “So, after we defeat Hawkmoth, I can take you on a date?”

Ladybug giggled, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “Silly kitty… I guess you can.”

Chat smiled, releasing her from his arms. Taking a few steps forward he paused. He reached his hand out to her, his loving expression making her stomach flip.

“Well then, you and me against the entire world, right?”

She smiled, taking his hand and entwining their fingers. “Always.”

Hawkmoth never stood a chance.

#mlsecretsanta #lady b babbles #fanfic #my fanfic #ladybug #chat noir #ladynoir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #adrinette #adrienette

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booklovingturtle · 5 years ago

Text

A Sweet Suli Spice (Kanej GVBB)

A/N: AH I can’t believe the time has finally come for me to share this with you all! I had so much fun working on this in the midst of the worst and most stressful semester of my life!

Shout out to my gang, Spice of Life, for making this so much fun bc they are all so talented and easy to work with! The Corporalki both understood my writing which made the revising/editing process really smooth. They made sure the fic you’re about to read is actually understandable. They read this more than once and in the midst of their own crazy lives which I will never not be thankfull for. The Materialki are ridiculously talented. You HAVE to click their links to check out their work. I know they all worked really hard on them and it totally paid off.

Also big thank you to @grishaversebigbang for hosting this and being a terrifying yet wonderful Master of Tides.

Please feel free to comment, reblog, or message me your reactions to this! It’s the first super long pic that I’ve ever written and I’m really proud of it. Okay enough rambling…ik y’all just want the fic!

Corporalki: @ninxszenik , @ethereal-magia

Materialki: @theartistwitch @wavesofinkdrops @xan-drei

Masterlist: Don’t have an Ao3 but I do have a master list of all my fics.

Summary: Inej Ghafa hasn’t seen her family in four years. Not since she’s been taken. Now that it’s been so long since she’s seen them, Inej is scared and nervous to go back. One night, while sitting on the rooftop, Kaz asks her to teach him Suli. That inspires Inej to fight her nerves and finally find her family. She asks Kaz to go home with her and he takes this opportunity to learn more about her and her people. Once home, Inej is faced with a guilt of her past, the fear of family’s reactions, and the hope of finally being ghar (home).

The heart of Suli culture flowed with spice-flavored blood and beat to the sound of performance drums. It hummed through Inej’s body every time she whispered her native language to herself under Tante Heleen’s ring-clad fist. She stored the precious words so deep inside of her that she feared the garbled sounds of Kerch would drown out their melodious syllables.

Once she was under the employment of the Dregs, she would practice Suli as often as she could. Some nights she would stare into the mirror, barely recognizing the woman in front of her as she spoke in Suli to herself. She would even write letters to her family in the beautiful script they had taught her. Those letters were always burned before the ink could dry. The content didn’t matter to her. She didn’t write them for the sake of filling a paper with impossible hopes and dreams. She wrote them because she feared losing her mother tongue. It was an irrational fear that she had never been able to vocalize to anyone before. Well, at least before Kaz came into the picture. He had asked her one night if she could teach him Suli and noticed, as he always did, the change in her face at the mention of it.

“I understand if you don’t feel comfortable teaching me. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Kaz reached out to place his hand on her leg.

Inej watched his pale, scarred knuckles rest on her knee. They had made their way up to the roof of the Crows Club, as they usually did when Inej was home. Whatever time wasn’t spent up there was used to carefully test the idea of being together.

“It’s not that I don’t feel comfortable. It’s that…” Inej’s words wandered away from her. She watched the way his thumb moved along the inside of her knee. It was such a small touch for someone else; for a different boy and a different girl that touch was meaningless. For them, it was everything.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“No. I want to. I’ve spent so many years away from Ravka and most of my people. I only ever get to speak Suli when I’m working with the Dregs or helping people escape a sinking slave ship. For years, I was afraid that one day, I would wake up and forget the language entirely.”

“Is that possible?” His deep voice sounded raspy but soothing against the black night. “Not to lose it in one day, but for you to just forget Suli that easily?”

Inej nodded slowly. “I already have.” It broke her heart to admit it. “When I first arrived to Ketterdam, everything came to me in Suli. Dreams, thoughts, speech. I had to learn to filter my words into Kerch. Now I find that more and more of my thoughts and dreams come in Kerch than they do in Suli.”

Kaz was silent for a few heartbeats. Inej felt as if she had stripped herself bare in front of the entire Barrel. It was odd to feel that way around Kaz now. He had seen and touched parts of her that no one else was ever given permission to. Kaz knew her like no other person could, yet this was a part of her she hadn’t accepted about herself, let alone explained to him. There was an intimacy that came with talking about her culture that made her feel exposed.

“The language is not the only thing that ties you to the culture, Inej. You will always be Suli as long as you carry it in your heart.”

Tears surprised Inej by burning the back of her eyelids. “Come home with me,” she spoke through the lump in her throat.

He looked taken aback. “Home? You mean Ravka?”

She nodded. Inej had felt confident the first time she asked the question, but the way Kaz was looking at her now made her doubt her request.

“Yes. To Ravka. To my family. I-I’ve been thinking about going back for a while now. I even asked Nina for her help in tracking my family down.”

“I didn’t know that,” Kaz’s eyebrows came together in a way that meant he was already calculating things. She recognized that look: scheming face.

“You may be Dirtyhands on this island, Brekker, but that doesn’t mean you’re privy to everything east of Kerch.”

Kaz grinned wickedly. “Maybe not east, but we all know that I was able to conquer the North quite easily.” This was also a new side of Kaz that she had gotten to know over the last few months: one that was playful without an edge of cruelty attached to it. The air around them changed and Inej no longer felt the sadness that usually came with thinking about home.

“We conquered the Ice Court together. With the help of some friends, which you had to beg for help from, if I remember correctly.”

Kaz looked appalled. “I never begged.”

“So you admit that you did need our help.”

“Need is a strong word, Inej. The only things I need in this world are food, air, and you.”

It was her turn to look speechless. Kaz was rarely ever so direct with her about his feelings for her. She knew, of course, that he cared for her as she did for him. It was one thing, however, for her to know it and another for him to be so forward about it.

“And because I need you, Inej, my answer is yes. I want to go to Ravka with you. I want to go everywhere and anywhere with you. We’ll conquer the world together if that’s what you want. I want to be wherever you need me to be.”

Kaz’s words echoed in her head. She would hear them every time she thought of home. Her real home. Thanks to Nina’s help, Inej was sailing to Ravka within months with Kaz by her side.

The Wraith soared through the water and, in what felt like one night’s rest, Inej’s crew was docking The Wraith in Os Kervo’s main dock. From the stern of her ship, Inej could hear the sound of her crew talking and moving. The water lapped against the underside of her ship, gently rocking her reflection back and forth.

Inej prayed in Suli as she strapped Sankt Petyr and Sankta Alina to her forearms. She tried to quell the anxious shake of her hands while Sankta Marya and Anastasia were readjusted on her thighs. Sankt Vladimir fit snugly into her boot, making Inej wonder what her mother would say at the sight of her in Fabrikator-made boots, not Suli slippers. Sankta Lizabeta with her rose-engraved handle sat at her belt, hidden under the folds of her black Suli wrap.

When not in front of a roaring crowd, the Suli were a reserved people. Despite Tante Heleen’s disgusting portrayal of her culture, Inej still loved the vibrant colors of Suli dupattas and embroidered kurtas. When she felt the jerk of the anchor settling into place, Inej realized how long it had been since she dressed in chiffon and silk. She didn’t recognize the Suli woman staring in the mirror staring back at her. For one, the sleeves were tailored to be much longer than she would have normally needed during Ravkan summers. However, she didn’t want anyone to see the network of scars that decorated her skin from years of violence. The second thing that threw off her reflection was the way she’d styled her hair. Though she performed with her hair in a braided coil, Inej knew her mother loved it best when it was wild and loose. Finally, the last time she had seen herself like this was when she was still an innocent girl who yearned to grow into a talented acrobat.

Inej was now so fundamentally different from that child. If anything, the dupatta she was wearing felt like a costume.

Knocking forced her to turn away from her damned reflection.

“Adara aaen,” Inej called out, already knowing who it would be before he stepped into the room.

“I assume that means ‘come in,’” Kaz’s slim figure filled her doorway. He was dressed in an inmanulate suit as usual, gloved hands resting on top of his crow’s head cane and a smirk on his face.

“What?” Inej hadn’t realized the words had come out in Suli instead of Kerch. It was rare for her to mix the languages up like that. The fact that it had even happened spoke of her nerves. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to translate everything into Suli to get some last minute practice.”

Kaz’s arrogant look slipped and he shook his head. “No need to apologize. I love hearing you speak Suli.”

Inej forced a smile to her face. “If the Saints allow it, soon that’s all you're going to hear.” She looked out the port window, watching the lazy rays of sun dance along the sky. Somehow the Ravkan sky seemed to shine brighter than the Kerch one.

“Don’t slip away from me,” Kaz prompted her gently. She realized that she had started to float off into her own thoughts, something she’d found herself doing more and more the closer they’d gotten to shore.

“Are you ready?”

“No. But I don’t think I ever will be.”

“We don’t have to do this, not if you don’t want us to. I’ll go and ask Getz to take The Wraith right back if you’ve changed your mind, or we can take a trip to Nina’s instead. Whatever you want to do, I'll be here for you.”

Inej shook her head. “I might be terrified, but I want to do this. I just feel out of place in a Suli outfit after not having worn one in so long.” Her fingers pulled at one of the tightly knitted seams.

Kaz leaned his cane against the wall, closing the door behind him. He went up to Inej and turned her to face the mirror. “I don’t think your parents will be any less happy to see you if you wore a dupatta or a kefta or a sack. They’ll be too excited to see you.” Kaz’s arms wrapped around her waist and he pulled her body into his. Inej felt his warm, solid chest against her back. She inhaled his calming smell, grateful for his presence.

“In Suli, we have a saying for people who have betrayed their kind, who have disgraced them or turned their back on them. Kadema mehim. It’s the worst sort of punishment you could receive for your actions.” She shuddered at the thought of ever hearing those words said to her. Inej herself had only ever used them once.

“I am not the same little girl who was taken from them. They might realize that and see me as forsaken. As someone who has turned away from the Saints.”

Kaz brushed her hair off to one side to rest his head on her shoulder. Kaz’s reflection towered over Inej’s own in the mirror. His sable eyes looked stubborn and unwaveringly serious. “You are many things, Inej, but a traitor is not one of them. It’s true that you are not the same girl you were when they knew you. But they will see that you grew into a brave, strong woman who will stop at nothing to do what is right for the people she loves.

“They will see that you have fought against all the odds and have become an unstoppable force that they should feel blessed to have in their lives. They will love you, Inej. It is impossible for them to not love you.”

This time she didn’t stop the tears that slid down her cheeks. She took a shuddering breath and placed a hand against his jaw. The sharp line was lined with light stubble, but that didn’t stop her from running a finger against its curve. Her fingers traced the scar beneath the right edge of jaw, thinking about the other scars that peppered his skin. Many of those scars earned alongside her.

“They will love you, too, Kaz.” Inej knew that he was almost as nervous as she was to meet her family, though he would never voice it out loud.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He kissed her cheek and pulled away. “They might think of me as the man who corrupted their daughter.”

She shook her head. “No, they will think of you as the man who has made their daughter too happy to put into words.”

Kaz stared at his gloves, refusing to make eye contact. “Will they? Have I?”

It was her turn to reach out to him. Inej wrapped her hands around his neck. “Yes and yes. You have made their daughter happier than she ever thought possible.”

Kaz’s hands tentatively grabbed her waist. His eyes were on her lips but he didn’t move. Not until she did. Inej leaned up, catching his mouth with hers. The sounds of the crew and the ocean were replaced by the sound of her heart in her chest. Kaz was always gentle with her. His kisses were soft like the petals of spring and sweet like caramel. He held her like there was nothing that could ever separate them.

Inej sighed, melting into his every touch. It was impossible to feel anxious or scared in his arms. His fingers pressed into her silk wrap and Inej released a gasp. Kaz took that opportunity to take everything she gave him. Her skin suddenly burned. The sweetness was still there, dancing with a fiery spice that surprised her. They had rarely ever held each other this long without the waters swallowing him up.

His hands buried themselves in her long hair. Inej reached into his jacket, feeling the muscles beneath his white shirt. Kaz then broke away, breathing hard and shuddering. His face was flushed and his lips looked deliciously swollen.

Inej, realizing what they had done, began to apologize for having been too forward.

“No. It wasn’t you. Believe me, it wasn’t that.” Kaz shook his head, gloved hands holding hers against his chest.

“But if it wasn’t...why did you stop?” Inej could feel a blush spreading across her cheeks.

“I really didn’t want to,” Kaz’s gaze made goosebumps dance across her skin. “But we need to leave soon if we want to make it to Ivets before dark. And to be quite honest with you, Wraith, I’m not sure how far we would have gone this time. I really didn’t want to stop.”

Inej laughed. “Neither did I. It’s okay. We’ll have time another day. We have the rest of our lives to do that and so much more.”

“Captain,” Getz called from outside her door. “The crew’s settled and waiting for your orders.”

“Duty calls, Wraith.” Kaz’s smile was as sharp as ever. He adjusted the tie she’d crinkled.

Inej pulled her shoulders back, stepped through the doorway and told her crew that they could do as they pleased for a few hours. Within the next hour, she and Kaz were on their way to Ivets, the city where Nina had informed Inej her family would be performing for the next week. Every road they passed brought her closer and closer to her family. Inej could hardly contain her excitement and nervousness. While passing a crowded marketplace, Inej almost barreled into a group of children running across the street.

“Whoa, Inej,” Kaz called as he held her back from stepping into the walkway. “Careful. I know you’re excited to see your family, but even I think it’s a little much to trample a few children along the way.”

“Could you imagine that after getting back to Ketterdam, the Wraith and Dirtyhands voyaged all the way to some unknown city in Ravka just to run over a few children?” she joked, though her voice wavered enough for Kaz to notice.

“When you put it like that...” Kaz’s eyes had the same spark in them that always appeared right before a job. “While that does sound tempting, I think my bloodthirsty reputation will survive despite having let them live.”

By sunset, Inej could hear the pounding of Suli drums. They had passed through the heart of Ivets’ main city before reaching the boundary of an open field. A golden tent heavily embroidered with thick swirls rose high over the clearing. Inej’s breath caught in her throat at the familiar sound of Suli folk music floating outside of its flowing entrance. Sweet curling smoke filled the air with the smell of fried dough, glazed fruits, and…

The smell of her family gatherings to celebrate the Saints. She envisioned her mother, kind and beautiful, carrying baskets full of fresh vegetables for dinner. Her father, strong and brave, chopping potatoes alongside his wife. Her cousins fighting over plates of food. Her aunts handing out sticky sweets. Her uncles setting up place settings.

The music reminded her of the first time she stood on a tightrope. The bottomless drop that yawned beneath her and the open sky that blanketed her. How it felt to be covered in performance glitter and to curl her hair to fall around her round cheeks. She remembered scrapping her hands on trees, trying to beat her cousins to the top. How it felt to look over the Ravkan landscape and see nothing but endless opportunities.

After years of darkness, years of bloodshed, years of the staccato sounds of Kerch, Inej Ghafa was finally home.

Home...and rooted to her spot at the edge of the circus grounds. Ravkans stood in line, waiting to be let into the performance tent; the same tent that she had spent countless days in during the early years of her life. A bronze-skinned man stepped out of the tent, dressed in loose fitted black pants and a thick, colorful coat. His voice was deep and stern as he hollered the rules of the performance out into the crowd of people.

Inej stared in wonder, unsure about who the man was. Chaacha Jilé was the one who used to tame the crowds before they entered the performance area. The man at the entrance was not her uncle.

“Hanzi,” the name came to her with a jolt.

Inej was suddenly flying. Or at least that’s what it felt like as the grass was crushed beneath her racing feet. One minute, she was standing beside Kaz and the next, she was running straight to her cousin, pushing through the crowd of guests until she stood at the very front.

“Hanzi,” she said again, this time facing the man whom she now recognized.

Her cousin’s words died on his lips and he froze, arms limp at his sides as looked at her. “Inej?”

A sob escaped her. She could hear the sound of the crowd’s confusion but she didn’t care.

“Hanzi,” was all that she could say.

His face broke into a smile. A roaring shout came from him as he yelled in Suli. “Inej! Inej is here! Masi Calla! Chaacha Baraz! Inej is home!”

Tears streamed down her face at the sound of her parents’ names: Calla and Baraz. Mama and Papa. Inej waited anxiously as the longest few seconds of her life passed. She could see from the sliver opening in the flaps a flurry of motion. She caught her name be repeated and questions thrown. Hanzi shouted again, tears in his own eyes.

Inej’s whole world froze as Mama and Papa came through the entrance. They stepped out, first looking at her cousin with an agonizing look of hope and confusion on their faces.

“Mama. Papa.”

They turned towards Inej as she called out to them. Her mother’s face was more wrinkled than it had been when she’d been taken. Her hair was still long and elegantly braided to the side. Her father’s beard was mixed with grays where it was once solid black. He was clutching his wife’s shoulder, eyes landing on his daughter for the first time in four years.

“Inej.” He didn’t say her name like Hanzi had. He said it with such certainty and conviction that it made Inej’s knees give out from under her.

Before her body could fully hit the ground, her parents’ arms were around her. She buried her face in her mother’s shoulder and wrapped an arm around her father’s waist.

“Esfir,” her mother whispered in her ear. Inej couldn’t describe the relief and joy that flooded through her at the word.

Esfir was Suli for ‘little star.’ Late at night, they used to tuck her under her covers with a kiss. Her mother used to say that Inej was her little star and her father would explain that she was their guiding light.

Inej didn’t know how long they sat in the damp grass, crying and hugging and whispering to each other.

“I’m home,” she would say.

“You’re home.” One of them would repeat.

“I prayed to all of the Saints that you would find your way home to us.” Her father said.

“They called us fools. Said that we would never see you again. They told us that you were taken too far for us to ever reach you again,” her mother cried.

“Never,” Inej promised. “I will never be too far to come back home. The heart is an arrow. It demands aim to land true. My heart is here.”

After some time, Inej realized that the rest of her family had come outside of the tent. Night had fallen and the crowd was now gone. Her older cousins looked as if Sankt Juris had come down to blow his blue flames. Disbelief filled their faces. Some of her younger cousins looked just as shocked, though less afraid of her. Inej also noticed the soft coos of the newest editions to her family. One toddler who must have born within the first year she was at the Menagerie. Two more who looked as though they came along while she was in service with the Dregs.

The Dregs. Kaz.

Inej pulled away from her parents, realizing who else she had forgotten about for the second time that night.

“Mama. Papa. I didn’t come here alone,” her words scratched against her throat. She hadn’t realized the tears had dried out her voice until that moment.

Inej turned around, knowing that Kaz would have waited as long as she needed him to. He still stood towards the edge of the trees. Inej called out to him in Kerch.

Kaz came forward, trying his best not to look like Dirtyhands under the cover of night with his crow’s head cane and thick gloves. Though he no longer needed them with her, Inej knew that he wasn’t ready to hug every member of her teary-eyed family.

Kaz stood beside her. Inej took his hand in hers and squeezed tightly.

“This is Kaz.” Inej had practiced this speech so many times in her head. She had carefully racked her brain for the proper words in Suli to say what she needed to say.

“Kaz and I...we have been through too many things together to explain in one night. Most of the last four years have been cruel and lonely. Kaz has been one of the few good things to come into my life since I was fourteen,” her words choked off. “I ask that you be kind to him and embrace him as a part of my life. He has saved it in many ways over the years. In some ways, it is thanks to him that I am here.”

Her father stood from where he was still crouched in the grass. He approached Kaz, looking more serious than Inej had ever seen him look in her life. He stood a few inches shorter than Kaz, but still managed to look down at him.

“Do you speak Suli?” Baraz asked him.

“No-” Inej was cut off by Kaz.

“Not fluently, but I am learning.” Kaz shocked her by responding in fluid Suli instead of Kerch. He gave her side-eyed look, clearly enjoying the shocked look on her face.

Her father nodded. “Then I can thank you properly. For helping my daughter return to us.”

Kaz bowed his head. “Inej is the wisest, most determined person I have ever met. She would have found her way back to you with or without me.”

Baraz laughed, “Esfir is just like her mother in that way. Nothing stands in the way of her and what she wants.”

Inej smiled in relief. “That is true. And right now, what I want is some stuffed peppers and goulash made the proper Suli way.”

Her mother laughed, standing to embrace Inej once again. “You can have whatever you would like, Inej.”

“My turn!” Hanzi called out from the cluster of cousins closest to her. Inej turned to find him now barreling towards her.

Inej froze for a second, not feeling entirely comfortable with the tight embrace. She tried her best to laugh through the rush of panic. It hadn’t even occurred to her until that moment how her homecoming would be full of physical touching that she wasn’t entirely ready for.

Her arms didn’t move from her sides, but at least she didn’t pull away until he did. Hanzi didn’t seem to register her tight shoulders.

“I can’t believe you’re really back, Inej! What took you so long? Adja has been driving me crazy. She thinks that she’s in charge now because she can do a handstand on the highwire, but now that you’re back, you can prove to her that you’re in charge. I even reminded her that you used to be able to do an entire double front routine on the high wire without a net.” While her older cousin may have gotten older, he still rambled half made up tales as though he hadn’t aged a day.

“I don’t even have the energy to explain how wrong that is,” Inej shook her head at her cousin’s infectious joy. Hanzi had always been one of her favorites because, no matter what, he could always tell some ridiculous story to make her laugh.

“First of all,” a female voice interjected, “I’ve been able to do a handstand on the high wire for years. Second, all I said was that you weren’t in charge, Hanzi.” Adja said from behind him. She was only two years younger than Inej, but she had been terrified of the high wire. While Inej had danced around it barefoot, Adja refused to step onto one.

“Come on, Nej. Remind Adja who the real master is!”

“No,” Calla stood in between her daughter and her nephew. “Inej has only been with us for a few minutes and already you are trying to get her in trouble,” her mother chided Hanzi.

Kaz chuckled from behind her. It was clear from his expression that, while he wasn’t able to understand all of their conversation, the sound of an upset mother seemed to be universally understood.

“Come, Esfir. We’re going to have a proper welcome dinner,” her mother nodded towards the rest of her family. “Disah and Remen, go to the Ivetan market…”

Inej allowed her mother to assign everyone their tasks while she looked back at Kaz. He was smiling, looking proud of her, but she couldn’t tell why.

“What?” she asked him in quiet Kerch.

“You didn’t pull away when he hugged you,” he truly looked proud of her. Inej looked towards Hanzi worriedly.

“No. I didn’t exactly hug him back.” It would have been a lie to act as though she wasn’t disappointed in her reaction to Hanzi’s embrace. It was an unexpected reality of what she had endured all those years ago. “Do you think they noticed?”

“He was too excited to have you back to notice,” Kaz shook his head. “That’s not the point. The point is that you didn’t pull away. It wasn’t easy, but you did it, Inej. You’re home and your family couldn’t be more happy to see you.”

She took a deep breath. She hadn’t even realized that her nervousness had started to creep up on her after Hanzi’s hug until now. For a while there, she had forgotten about all of her anxieties. Now that her family had split itself into their roles to prepare for her homecoming diner, she had a quiet moment to be reminded of them.

That was when Kaz, ever supportive and aware of how she was feeling, stepped in to ease her nerves. “Kaz, do you think I should tell them the truth?”

“You don’t owe anyone any explanations. You tell them as much as you want to. It’s your story to tell.”

Inej had known long before that night on the rooftop that she was in love with Kaz. She had known for quite some time. As she stared into his honest eyes, surrounded by the sounds of her family, Inej was reminded of how deep her love for Kaz Brekker went.

“What did I ever do for the Saints to bless me with you,” she wondered out loud.

It was hard to tell with the pale moonlight as her only source of light, but for a moment, Inej thought that she saw Kaz’s face blush. His gaze left her and landed on the starry Ravkan sky.

“I ask myself the same question about you every day that we are together, Inej.”

“Nej!” Adja yelled from the performance tent. “Masi Calla asked me to help you and your...friend...find new clothes.”

Inej looked down at her Suli dupatta. “What’s wrong with what we have on now?”

Adja eyed the Wraith and Dirtyhands with pursed lips. “You both look as though you’re going to a funeral. Tonight is a party, Nej. You need to be dressed in party clothes. Now let's go, Masi might cut the wire during our next performance if I don’t get you both dressed in time.”

Inej remembered how her mother used to fuss over her dirty silks when she came back inside from an afternoon spent playing outside. “You’re right. Mama would absolutely do something like that.”

“Where are we going?” Kaz asked her, keeping up with her hurried steps with his usual ease.

Inej glanced at him. “Oh, so you suddenly don’t speak Suli anymore?” They walked around the performance tent to the line of caravans far behind it.

Kaz smirked arrogantly. “I never said I did. Just that I was learning. You didn’t think that I was going to come and meet your entire family without at least attempting to familiarize myself with the language, did you? It’s not that difficult to memorize a few phrases here and there.”

She pushed him lightly with her shoulder. “How about on the boat? Were you faking then?”

Kaz shook his head. “Technically, I wasn’t faking. I know some words and phrases, but not everything. Not yet. Give me a few weeks with your family and I’ll be fluent.”

Inej rolled her eyes. “Not a chance, Brekker. My language is too poetic for a shevrati like you to con your way in that short amount of time. Memorizing a few parables is not the same thing as being able to use all the beautiful nuances we have.”

“It would be easier if I had some help from a beautiful and smart teacher.”

“You’re right. I think Hanzi would probably be willing to sign up.”

“It’s rude to speak in another language, you know,” Adja said from in front of them. The three of them finally stopped in front of Adja’s family caravan.

Kaz shot a glance at her cousin. Inej translated and he apologized in Suli.

“Not you,” Adja nodded towards Inej. “I meant Nej. She was always a quiet one, you know. At least you got her talking.”

Kaz nodded along pleasantly thought it was clear he didn’t understand. When Inej explained, his bitter coffee eyes looked amused.

“I wasn’t quiet, Adja. Hanzi was just usually screaming over me about nothing.”

Adja giggled and unlocked the door. “That is probably true. I was thinking, you should fit in my outfit from Sankta Day last year instead of just a normal dupatta. As for Ka-s,” she stumbled on his Kerch name, “He can borrow Papa’s performance kurta.”

Kaz looked somber, but didn’t argue. “Chaacha Micta used to make some interesting fashion choices,” Inej explained to him as her cousin went in search of the outfits.

“How so?”

Inej bit her lip, holding back laughter. “Let’s just say that he probably could take a few tips from Jesper.”

His eyes widened. “Inej-”

It was too late. Adja emerged from behind a curtain carrying multiple pieces of thick fabric. For Inej, she had a neatly folded Anarkali suit of rich burgundy. Sparkling gold embroidery lined the long, slightly flared skirt and traced the cuffs of the fitted sleeves. A light, white and gold wrap also came with the outfit. On top of it sat a pair of high heels that matched the wine-colored clothes. Inej took the clothes into her hands, feeling the soft yet firm fabrics that were saved for more festive clothing in her culture.

“It might be a little long for you,” Adja eyed Inej’s smaller frame. “But it will do.”

“Thank you, Adja.”

She shrugged off her cousin’s thanks. Her other hand still held Kaz’s outfit. He was standing dangerously still beside Inej. His face was blank of any reaction, but Inej could only imagine what was going through his head. While her outfit was designed with elegance and grace in mind, Kaz’s was made for a true showman. Or at least for a color blind one.

Chaacha Micta had a performance kurta that was radiant white with orange and green gems cascading down the sleeves. Sunset colored pants were folded to match the sparkling jewels. It was both bright and sparkly, two things Kaz hated in clothing.

“Dhanyavaad,” Kaz mimicked Inej’s Suli to thank Adja. Inej was reminded of how good of a liar he was because if she hadn’t known better, she would have thought Kaz looked almost excited to wear her uncle’s kurta.

Adja beamed, looking between the two. “I don’t think Chaacha Baraz or Masi Calla would be okay with me leaving you two in here alone to change but…” Her cousin broke off and shrugged. “If you brought, Ka-s all the way here, I have to assume that it is not the first time you’ve been left alone.”

Heat flooded Inej’s cheeks. She couldn’t meet Adja’s eyes when she nodded. “It’s okay. Mama and Papa won’t know if you don’t tell.”

Adja continued to look between them. It was the same look Nina had given them before Inej had actually opened up about her relationship with Kaz. A look that said that Adja could see something they couldn’t. She was used to getting that look from her friends or other Dregs, but it was a little unnerving to see that look in the eyes of someone she hadn’t seen in years.

“Just don’t take too long. Chaacha and Masi will seriously cut the rope if they find out about this,” she pointed between Kaz and Inej. She swiftly ran out of the caravan, giggling at Inej’s eye roll.

Once she was out the door, Inej’s focus was back on Kaz. His polite smile dropped with Adja out of sight.

Kaz spoke seriously, “Inej, you know that I care for you deeply. More than anything in this world, I care for you.”

Warmth filled her heart, but her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“Because I care for you, I want your family to like me.”

“I already told you-”

“Yes, I know. I’m wonderful. A trickster god amongst men. But that’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what is it?”

Kaz looked at her in disbelief. “Do you even have to ask me that question? This,” Kaz raised the clothes in his hands to meet her eye level. “I’ve never seen anything so…”

Laughter burst out from Inej. She quickly moved to cover her mouth with her hands, but there was no concealing the way her body shook from amusement.

“That is a traditional Suli kurta, Kaz. It’s an important part of my culture.”

He shook his head. “I have seen kurtas. This does not look like that. This looks like some nightmare Jesper and Nina would have designed.”

“Poor Dirtyhands is too insecure to wear something so dazzling,” Inej placed a hand on his cheek. She ran a finger down the sharp cut of his jawline. “I’m sure you’ll look great. Not as good as Chaacha would in it, but a close second.”

Kaz’s eyes held a playful fury. His ebony eyes only ever fixed on her that way. It was a look that promised both a punishment and sweet reward for her words.

“If the Dregs ever find out about this…”

A wicked smile broke onto her face. “I can’t imagine how they would. I keep all your secrets.”

“Don’t even think about telling them, Wraith.” One of Kaz’s arms found her waist.

“Jesper, on the other hand,” her fingers moved to run through his hair. “Jesper is a bit of a big mouth. If this somehow got to him, I don’t think there is any way of stopping him.”

“I can think of at least twelve different ways I could stop him with this kurta alone.” His face moved closer to hers.

Inej turned so his lips landed on her cheek. “No time for that, Brekker. We have to get dressed.”

He sighed and gave the bedazzled shirt a weary look. “If you ever doubt how I feel about you, Inej, just remember this moment.” Before she could respond, Kaz gestured towards the room Adja had gone into to find the clothes. “I’ll change in there.”

Time and time again, Kaz reminded her of why she fell for him in the first place. He had seen every part of her and touched almost all of her, yet Kaz never made assumptions about her limits. No matter how far they had or hadn’t gone, Kaz always asked for permission. On the nights when all she could do was hold his hand, he never pushed her to go further. Even now, after what had happened on the boat and having had met her family, Kaz gave Inej the privacy she needed without hesitation.

With Kaz gone from her sight, Inej was left to unstrap her daggers and quickly dressed into Adja’s Anarkali suit. After a few minutes, Inej stopped hearing Kaz’s quiet cursing.

“I’m almost ready.” She called to him through the curtain.

He shuffled around on his side of the caravan. “This looks even worse than I imagined.”

Inej ignored him, debating whether or not to strap on her beloved blades for the feast.

“Inej?”

“I’m almost ready, you can come out.”

Kaz had been right. The kurta had looked worse than she had imagined. The shirt hung at little too loose from his slight frame, but the pants were too short for his tall stature. They stopped just above his ankles, showing a peak of his white socks.

“Oh.” Inej cringed. “You were not joking.”

Kaz looked at her intently. “You look beautiful, Inej.”

Inej had yet to see herself in the mirror, but Kaz’s reaction was all she needed to confirm what she had already suspected. Adja was slim like Inej but stood a few inches over Inej . The rest of her outfit fit as it was tailored to. The top complimented her figure while the bottom flared out into an elegant skirt that pooled around Inej’s feet more than she would have normally allowed. It wasn’t perfect, but she loved it regardless.

“Traditionally, I would have special Sankta Day earrings that have some sort of token to represent a Saint.” Inej absentmindedly tugged at her ears. “Though, I haven’t worn any earrings since leaving the Menagerie.”

His look softened. Kaz forgot all about his unfortunate attire. “Would you like to? I’m sure Adja would let you borrow hers.”

“The holes have closed by now. It’s okay. I don’t need them. I have these.” She slid Sankt Petyr, the dagger he had given her so long ago, into place. She tried to ignore the fact that it took her far less time to strap all seven of her blades into place than it had to properly dress herself in the Sankta Day skirt.

“I’ll tell Adja we’re ready.”

“Wait,” Kaz’s fingers intertwined with hers. He reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a matingkia made of expensive gold and rich-colored stones. It was simple, as far as Suli headpieces went, with one clear diamond in the middle of a small ruby flower.

“Kaz,” Inej’s breath caught in her throat. “Where did you find this?” Her fingers curved delicately around the precious metal.

“A vendor in Ketterdam had a tent full of Suli jewelry. He has a Suli wife that makes all the items to sell.”

“Do you believe him?” It was more than possible that the vendor’s story was a ruse to get more money from gullible tourists visiting the island.

“I’ve met her.”

“You did?”

“Yes. When I asked her to make this one for you.”

The matingka felt heavier in her hand than it had moments ago. “You asked her to make this for me?” Inej tried to envision Dirtyhands entering a Kerch market to meet with an ederlly Suli woman. She thought of how long he must have spent picking the design, and then jewels to place in it.

“I don’t know what to say,” she whispered to him. “She’s clearly very talented.”

Kaz tried not to look too smug which was a change for him. “Only the best for my Wraith.”

“Sometimes we wear them for special holidays.” Inej debated whether or not to say the next part. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by making any assumptions. “These are traditionally given to Suli women by their father or husbands.”

She saw him nod nervously. “I know. The woman, Gintha, explained to me the tradition. She said fathers would give them to their daughters and pray that the Saints would give them wisdom as they grew into strong women.”

“Did she tell you why husbands give them to their brides?” She couldn’t deny the fear or eagerness that she felt waiting for his answer.

“To symbolize the love and respect he promises to show her every day after they are wed. The same love and respect that I have felt for you every day for too many years to count.”

Inej’s body was frozen with emotion. Love. Kaz loved her. He didn’t just love her. He respected her. Respected her boundaries and dreams and goals.

“Nej! Are you done yet?” Adja suddenly banged against the door of the caravan.

The reality of her situation flooded back to Inej. For a few moments, she had forgotten who she was. Where she was. Inej took the head piece, not bothering to hide her flustered look as she pushed Kaz back behind the curtain.

“Get out of those clothes. Hurry!” Kaz laughed and she realized how her words sounded. “No! That’s not what I meant. I mean change back into yours! My family will just have to deal with your Kerch suit during dinner.”

She rushed back to the door and let Adja in. “I’m almost ready.”

Adja looked her up and down. “It fits better than I thought. And Ka-s?”

“The clothes didn’t fit him so he’s changing back into his. Here,” she handed Adja the matingka. “Can you help me put this on?”

“Did he give this to you?” she pointed towards the curtain.

“Yes. Now help me put it on. I’ve never put one on myself. Papa only ever put it on me once.”

Adja waved her off. “It’s easy.” She spun Inej around and took a few hair pins from her own brown hair to fasten it into place. “There! Done! Just in time.”

Kaz walked into the room, looking much less miserable now that he was dressed in his own clothes.

“Tell her that her father’s wardrobe should be burned.”

“He says that he loved the kurta and is sorry that it didn’t fit,” Inej easily lied. “Also your tie is crooked again.”

He cursed under his breath and nervously put into place as her cousin spoke.

Adja beamed at her. “I don’t believe that’s true, but it doesn’t matter. Come on! Everyone is waiting for you.”

Inej’s stomach turned over nervously. She had been so overcome with emotions when she’d first greeted her family. Those emotions were starting to settle, but in their place grew the seeds of anxiety once again.

Inej and Kaz trailed behind Adja as they made their way back from the caravan section of their carnival to the performance area. Inej looked around the cool night air, keeping track of all the things that looked familiar and different at the same time.

She pointed to a smaller performance tent made of a thick white sheet. “What’s that?” she asked Adja.

“We started to tour with a second family about two years ago. Hanzi is engaged to the daughter of their paira vaala.” A breeze opened the flap of the white tent and Inej could see the bed of coals used for the paira vaala, or fire walker.

“Hanzi’s getting married?” Inej couldn’t imagine her cousin as she had last known him having a fiancé. He was always too loud and playful when around his family, but unearthly quiet around other girls their age.

“I know! We were all just as surprised as you were. Chaacha Jilē almost fainted.”

“He didn’t tell them that he was seeing her?” Inej’s surprise only grew. While she may not have gotten her parents’ permission before choosing to be with Kaz, her situation hadn’t given the option of choosing the favored Suli traditions.

“He didn’t even tell me! And I’m his favorite bhara. At least I have been since you…” Left? Were taken? Disappeared? Inej could hear the end of Adja’s sentence even if her cousin didn’t want to fill it in.

“I remember that,” Inej awkwardly filled the silence. She pointed to a section of tents reserved for carnival games. “Kila,” one of their older cousins, “once bet me thirteen kruge that I couldn’t win every game in the tent.”

“Kroog?” It wasn’t until the word left Adja’s mouth that Inej realized that she’d forgotten the Suli word for currency or money. It was such a small thing to forget, but it made her stop in her tracks.

“I-” she started to explain. “I’m sorry. I guess I just haven’t used that word in Suli in a few years. Uhm,” Inej racked her brain, digging deep into her memories to find the right word.

“What’s wrong?” Kaz, who had been silently listening to their conversation, spoke up. He couldn’t understand them, but he could see Inej’s face change. “I think I heard you say ‘kruge.’”

She shook her head, momentarily confused as Suli and Kerch collided with each other in her head. Rupe. The word finally came to her in a blunt memory. “I forgot the Suli word for money,” she said to him in Kerch and then explained it to her cousin again.

“Oh!” Adja didn’t seem fazed by her cousin’s slip up. “Kila was such a gambler. A terrible one too. Though I guess he doesn’t need to worry about that anymore. He married a wealthy Shu family. How he wiggled his way into that, I have no idea.”

Inej nodded along as Adja rambled. She was no longer listening to her cousin’s end of the conversation. Instead, she began filing through the mental dictionary in her brain. What other words had she forgotten?

Bread? Roti. Butterfly? Titali. Bowl? Katora. Horse? Ghora. Ocean? Samudara.

Random words were tossed and turned in her head. Adja continued to talk about their uncles and aunts. She went through family gossip as quickly as Nina went through maple-drizzled waffles. Inej didn’t hear any of it. All she could hear was the sound of her Suli-Kerch dictionary flipping page after page.

Torsion wrench? What was the Suli word for the little tool she had used numerous times to pick a lock? Had she ever known the word? Had she ever needed to use that word in her native language before? Would she even need to say torsion wrench during dinner tonight?

Ketterdam isn’t all that bad. At least I learned how to pick locks using a torsion wrench.

No, there was no way she could even imagine herself saying something like that to her family. Inej realized that she had let her nerves run a little too wild. Adja hadn’t even noticed when she said “kruge” instead of “rupe”. The odds of her family being upset with her for not remembering a word here and there were small.

Kaz tugged on the fabric of her skirt, drawing her attention to him once again. His dark eyes met hers, silently asking her once again if she was okay. This time she didn’t have to force a smile on her face to reassure him.

“How did Mama put together a dinner so quickly?” Inej said the moment the smell of paprika, garlic and bell peppers hit her. They had circled back around to the performance tent. Instead of it holding a crowd of entertained Ravkans, tonight, the tent would be used to spread out a Saints-worthy feast.

Adja beamed at her. “Masi Calla asked all of our masis and chaachas that were cooking dinner for after the show to add extra coals to the fires. Some of the food had to be bought from the markets so it won’t be exactly like you’re used to, but it’s all that we could get together so quickly.”

“It’s perfect. You could have fed me rocks and I would have been just as happy to be home.”

The heavy tent flaps were pulled wide open and she could see dark-haired figures moving frantically around the tent. The round seats used for audience members were stacked on top of each other. Inej remembered how long it took to carry the iron seats from the caravans to place them in their rows. She had been too small to carry them herself, so she would hold the bottom half of a stack while Hanzi carried the brunt of the weight.

The high ropes were still strung up from their looming poles. She itched to climb up and test her technique. The chaacha who had first taught her how to balance was strict about proper posture. Though she had no real use for it when sleuthing for the Dregs, she could still hear his sharp calls to straighten her spine or keep her gaze forward.

“Make room! Inej the Great has entered the tent!” Hanzi exclaimed. His voice cut through the flurry of her family’s movement. Inej realized why her uncle had stepped down to let Hanzi handle the crowds. His deep voice was effective when it came to getting a crowd’s attention.

Toffee and hazel eyes all met hers. All of her family, almost twice as many as earlier, froze where they were to stare at her and Kaz. His gloved fingers curved in hers, but no one seemed to care at that gesture as much as they cared about the dazzling headpiece sparkling in the candlelight. Her parents had tears in their eyes as if it was the first time they were seeing her again. Inej had to hold back tears of her own. She saw the circle of food splayed out around the lush carpets dragged from Saints know where to cushion the hard ground.

Sarma, stuffed peppers, bogacha, and xaimoko were still in their metallic cooking pots, steaming as if the fire had just been dosed from under them. Pirogo and xaritsa sat in porcelain crockery that Inej suspected came from the Ivetan market her cousin had mentioned. Silver kettles of chao filled the room with a lingering sweet smell. Dark cups of kafa were already served and in the hands of some to her cousins.

The meal flooded her with too many memories to catch at once. She was swimming in a stream of random memories. Her tongue burning from spicy stuffed peppers and then from chugging a fresh cup of chao in a vain attempt to ease the sting. Mama teaching her how to prepare the sarma properly. Papa stiring a pot of goulash.

“Why are you just standing there? Come! Sit!” Papa gestured to a spot right in front of Inej’s favorite platter.

She blinked back tears. No more tears. Tonight was for celebrating all that she had come back to, not for mourning the years she had lost.

“Some of it had to be bought so it won’t taste exactly like you remember but-” Her mother rushed to her side, holding her daughter’s hand and pulling her and Kaz towards her father.

“Mama, I don’t care how the food tastes. This is already so much more than I could ask for. Just being with you and Papa and everyone else is enough for me.”

Her mother’s dark brows furrowed. She took great pride in her cooking, as a Suli should. “Yes, yes, but still...If you had sent us some sort of message so we could have been prepared, the food would have all been ready. We would have canceled the show much sooner. But no, leave it to our little Esfir to show up as if the Saints had let her fall from their very sky at random.” The novelty of Inej’s arrival was definitely wearing off if her mother was already scolding her.

She laughed despite her mother’s pointed words. Inej settled in her seat comfortably. Kaz sat beside her, looking so out of place in this bright colored tent surrounded by equally colorful kurtas. She couldn’t believe the sight in front of her. Kaz Brekker being handed a steaming cup of chao in his crisp, black suit.

Her own hands were already clutching a plate overflowing with food. Her father had served her heaping spoonfuls of every dish that sat before her. He paused, looking at Kaz curiously.

“Eh...food?” Her father surprised her with the Kerch word. She hadn’t known he spoke any Kerch.

Kaz nodded, “Krpya.”

Her father looked excited by his answer. He piled almost as much food on his plate as he had on hers. Kaz was excellent at hiding his emotions, but there was no hiding the amusement in his eyes. He took the plate with open arms. Everyone, including Inej, watched as Kaz lifted a fork to take a scoop of the rice-stuffed green pepper. He didn’t even flinch at what she could assume to be the spiciest bite of food he’d ever had. He chewed slowly, ignoring the flush that creeped up his neck. Judging from the smell, her family hadn’t held back when it came to spices that night. Finally he smiled, thanking her father for the food.

That seemed to be the cue her family had been waiting for. Everyone unfroze and went for a plate.

Kaz waited until they were no longer staring at him to reach for the tea. She had to bite back a laugh as he gulped down the entire cup.

“Spicy?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

Kaz looked at her as if she had grown an extra ear. “Spicy? Inej, I thought I was going to die.”

This time she couldn’t hold back the laugh. Everything about the night filled her with so much joy and laughter that Inej had to put down her food for a second. Her stomach burned from the giggles that shook her body. Kaz was actually blushing as her cousins closests to her looked at them.

“Kaz said the food almost killed him.” She explained to them. “The Kerch prefer their food much less seasoned. Mostly a hint of salt and pepper. It’s actually very sad.”

All of them broke out into smiles.

Her mother who was still standing behind them said, “Tell Ka-s that he’ll have to get used to real food if he’s decided to stay with you.” She placed a hand on Kaz’s shoulder affectionately.

Kaz, clearly not expecting the sudden touch, went still. His body tensed beneath the touch and his jaw tightened. Her mother noticed the change in his posture and jerked her hand back. She looked at her daughter quickly, but Inej could see the hurt and confusion in her eyes even if it was just for a second.

“It’s not you, Mama.” She rushed to explain for Kaz. His eyes had dropped to the plate resting on his lap.

“I told you that our life in Ketterdam wasn’t easy.” She tried to find a way of explaining without revealing too much of Kaz’s past. “He isn’t used to people touching him unless they’re trying to hurt him. Give him time, Mama.” That part was at least true.

Her mother nodded, looking apologetic but no less confused. This time she was looking at the visible scars along Inej’s arms. Her cousin’s outfit didn’t hide them the way her earlier outfit had.

Hanzi, who was watching the whole exchange from across the tent, spoke out. “What was it like, Nej? In Ketterdam?”

His father, Chaacha Jilé, used a serving spoon to give him a hard tap on the head. “Hanzi!”

“What? We were all thinking it!”

His father shook his head. “You know better than to ask that kind of question.”

“It’s okay.” Inej cut in before her uncle could use the spoon again. “Hanzi is right. You all want to know what happened. I don’t blame you.”

“See!” Hanzi pointed a vindicated finger towards Inej.

“Hush!” His father waved the spoon in front of his son.

She bit back a smile and continued. Inej looked at Kaz. His rigid spine loosened a bit, but he still looked a bit on edge. “I’m going to tell them.”

A small smile tugged on his mouth. “You know I support whatever decision you make.”

It was all the encouragement she needed. “Mama, Papa, you may want to sit down. It’s a long story and most of it isn’t pleasant.”

Her mother worriedly sat beside her. Her father put an arm around her shoulders, physically supporting his wife in the same way Kaz had just supported her.

“I was taken by slavers. They broke in and took me just as the sun had started to rise. They brought me to Ketterdam, where I was sold to a heartless woman who made me do unspeakable things for terrible men. Kaz worked for a group of young men trying to build a new business and went to meet with the woman at the request of his boss. I realized I could escape with his help, so I offered him my skills as an acrobat. He agreed to employ me legally and without having to do any of the things that I was doing there. He taught me how to defend myself. I worked as his spy and I was good at it.

“Ketterdam… it can be an ugly place that brings the ugliness out of even the best people. I’ve done things I pray the Saints will one day forgive me for; but I’m not the same girl I was when I was taken. If I was, I don’t think I would have made it through the first night in that city. I will never be that girl again, no matter how hard I try. And I’m sorry if that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth.

“I was able to eventually afford a ship and a crew to run it. Now, I'm the captain of a crew of people dedicated to keeping other people from having to go through what I went through. I hope that the work I do at sea can help weaken any shadows I have created during my years in Ketterdam.”

Inej had, of course, changed a few details in her story. There was no way she was going to tell her entire family that the “business” Kaz was running was actually a deadly street gang. She was also never going to explain to them exactly how good at her job she had gotten. They would never understand the things she had done. In fact, if they could see the crimson stains on her hands, they’d probably be so repulsed that they would kick her out on the spot.

Her mother was crying again. Her father looked heartbroken as if all of his worst fears had come true.

“Inej…” Adja spoke first. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Inej was surprised to realize that she wasn’t in tears as she feared she would have been. “It’s not your fault.” She looked at her parents, realizing that they must have carried some guilt with her disappearance just as she carried the shame of the things she had done.

“Nor is it yours. We couldn’t have known those slavers were going to break into our home. You two did everything you were supposed to. When things were at their worst, I could hear your voices teaching me how to pray to the Saints. I was able to survive so long because I always carried the hope you taught me to hold on to. The hope that I would one day return to you.”

Her father looked furiously stubborn as he said, “And you have. You are home, Inej. That’s all that matters. We don’t care what you had to do to get here. As long as you are here with us again.”

“The Saints don’t punish actions done to survive.” Her mother agreed. “You don’t need to ask them or us for forgiveness. Forgiveness is earned, Inej, and you have been through more than enough to deserve it. We know you. We know you have a good heart. We love who you are now because it brought you back to us.”

“You will always be our esfir.” Her father held his daughter's trembling hands.

Those words were like the first bite of bread after a year long fast. Inej hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear them, or how much it would mean to hear them from her parents. Her father’s touch didn’t wipe away any of the blood on her hands nor did it take away the dark memories she would always carry. But it did make her feel hopeful for the future. For so long she feared that she could never return home; she feared her family would reject the woman she was sharpened into. Her parents didn’t look like they were ready to throw her out. In fact, they looked like they were ready to hold her tighter than ever.

“Wait a second,” Hanzi once again drew all the attention in the room back to him. “You said you were a spy and now a ship captain?”

Inej wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “Yes.”

“And that Ka-s...runs a business?”

“Yes, Hanzi.”

He looked suspiciously between Kaz and Inej. Then at the leather gloves and silver crow’s head of his cane. His jaw dropped. “Inej, you’re not saying what I think you’re saying, are you?”

She bit her lip, unsure of how to answer.

“He knows, doesn’t he?” Kaz’s gravelly voice was full of pride at being recognized.

“Don’t look so smug. I don’t think he recognized you until I said that I was a ship captain.”

“INEJ!”

She turned back to Hanzi. He was almost buzzing with excitement to hear her answer. “Are you who I think you are? Is he who I think he is?”

Her mother narrowed her eyes at her nephew.“Inej is whoever she wants to be. As for Ka-s, he’s Inej’s...”

Inej looked to Kaz for the answer. They had never felt the need to use a word to explain their relationship. Everyone on their tiny stretch of an island knew better than to question Dirtyhands or the Wraith. Their friends didn’t need an explanation. What she shared with Kaz went deeper than anything she could describe.

“What?”

“They want to know what you are to me.”

“Then tell them.”

“What do you want me to tell them?”

“What do you want to tell them?”

“That you’re the person I love most in this world.”

His smile was blinding. “I’m more than okay with that answer.”

“Kaz is my heart.”

Adja cooed, clutching her heart. Her mother looked approvingly at Kaz. Her father looked relieved by the answer. Hanzi still looked unsatisfied by it.

“Why are you all just staring at us? Let’s eat!” She mimicked her father’s earlier remark. The silence was once again filled with her family’s celebratory cheers.

“Thank you for coming with me. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Kaz looked smug. “I love you.”

Inej smiled, looking around the circle of happiness brought together by a bond that went deeper than blood. “I love you, too.”

A/N Pt 2: Hi hello! If you happened to have read this before January 2, 2020 then you might remember that there used to be a long paragraph at the end of this fic where I acknowledged all of the cultures that I read about as inspiration to flesh out the Suli culture in this fic. Welp, because Tumblr enjoys to make life difficult, it actually decided to erase the entirety of this fic, leaving only the title. Why? I have no idea!!!! But that means I had to do everything and luckily I had all of the fic saved except for this second A/N bc I added it in right before uploading. While I’m incredibly annoyed by Tumblr glitch and am not able to fully write the original acknowledgment, I still want to give add a smaller version of the previous one.

All of cultures I drew from for this fic can be found listed here. The Suli language was a modified mixture of Hindi and Punjabi. The foods are mostly Romani in origin. The names are a mixture of Turkish, Hindi, Romani, and Slavic names. The clothing have all been specifically named. The head piece Inej wore was directly inspired by a South Asian maang tikka however out of respect for this real cultural practice, I changed the name/origin for the fic. Any parables/customs/religious beliefs explained in the fic are completely fictional that were either pulled directly from the SOC series or made up for this fic. Any connection/similarities to real cultural practices are completely coincidental unless I specifically said so. I believe that was everything important that I had in the original acknowledgment. I’m so sorry if anything was left out. If you do feel that I forgot to mention anything in this rewritten version, please let me know and I’ll do my best to fix it immediately!

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thewritewolf · 5 years ago

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Nino’s Quest Chapter 7: Audience With the King

The party finally meets up with the King and they receive their next quest.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3. My ko-fi.

Direct Message From Alya

Alya: babe. Have you noticed anything… ...weird? With the babies

Nino: Our babies? Yeah M’s back to her usual with my bro And adrien is a blushy mess around her Crazy

Alya: Is this progress? It feels like a side step Or taking a step forward… ...and tripping on their face.

Nino: Well, if they could get comfortable around each other before…

Alya: Babe its WAY worse now than what it was before Now NEITHER of them are talking to each other God they’re frustrating

Nino: Did it have something to do with that last akuma? You said you saw them heading toward it before things got crazy

Alya: Maybe? BUT OMG THAT BATTLE

Nino: ??? What happened??

Alya: After they beat the akuma They got the hell away from each other Super pale No fist bump I posted pics on the ldb

Nino: Lemme check Wait Are they blushing?

Alya: gr8 Now i’m even more confused

Nino: lmao Your fleet of ships! It is sinking, babe

Alya: Don’t even JOKE about that! Ladynoir WILL set sail Marinette WILL get her hamsters with Adrien

Nino: lol Just teasin Let em figure stuff out on their own They’ll get there

Alya: I hope youre right…

Nino: Trust me, babe. I AM a master of romance

Alya: Yeah? Where’d you get those credentials, huh?

Nino: I got you, didn’t I?

Alya: … Smooth, cappy Very smooth

-------

Lord DM: Alright, my dudes, we have agreed that there WILL be dnd this weekend. The question is now… ...where the heck is it going to be.

Adrien Regreste: Definitely not at my place They are barely letting me out No way are they going to let me have friends over [crying cat face]

Alya’ll Beware: yeah and its not going to be any better at my place Esp with Nora back in town

Lord DM: What bout u, M?

Marinoodles: There is a big order at the bakery They don’t need my help BUT They DO need the extra space My place is out

Lord DM: Well dang Looks like i’ll have to bring out the big guns You guys can come over to my place

Adrien Regreste: [shocked emoji] I never thought I’d see the day…

Alya’ll Beware: lol, chill sunshine. Stay focused on the dnd

Lord DM: No no Let him bask Few mortals get this honor

Alya’ll Beware: [eye roll emoji]

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

Saturday arrived at long last, and Nino took stock of his preparations for the day. His little bro out with their parents. A stack of chip bags and pop and all the things that would make Adrien’s nutritionist twitch. Bean bag chairs for him and all his friends. Ambiance from tabletop audio. Everything had to be right - they were meeting with the Good King Haman, after all. It was one of the climaxes of the campaign.

Which was why he was worried when everyone finally got there.

Adrien had picked up everyone, of course, which might explain why he and Marinette were already a blushing mess. Nino glanced to Alya for clues, but all she had for him was a frown and a shrug.

The two of them sat opposite each other, with Alya opposite Nino. There was a pregnant silence where usually they would have their pre-session chat.

Nino considered himself a pretty empathetic kinda guy. It wasn’t that hard for him to get a feel for the room, or put himself in other people’s shoes. But even for him, his two friends were a stone wall. The only thing he could say for sure is that they weren’t angry with each other. Maybe just… scared. Which was weird, but hey - Dungeons and Dragons hadn’t let him down yet. Maybe it could help them now.

With that in mind, Nino started the session. “After spending the morning making yourselves look like you totally belong at court - with different amounts of success - you make your way to the royal castle. Looks like someone’s looking out for you, since the usually long line to see the king is super short today.”

“Finally, some kind of break,” Alya grumbled. “After bandits and assassins, at least we don’t have to wait in line.”

“After an hour, you finally find yourselves face to face with the King himself. While it is clear that he is no longer the adventuring knight of his youth, he’s still got the broad shoulders and strong arms of a fighter. His jeweled, golden crown rests easily atop his head. He watches you intently as you approach, a well groomed eyebrow raised as he takes in your martial appearance.”

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, we’re in armor and stuff?”

“Well,” Marinette responded, “we are adventurers. We should never be too far from our gear.”

Bowing his head in acquiescence, Adrien returned his attention to Nino.

“After you are declared, the King seems even more curious about you. He speaks with a clear, booming voice, one used to commanding armies in the field. ‘I recognize your names. There was a wretched matter afoot last night - one that you were the center of. I admit, I had wondered what would force someone’s hand in such a way as to send assassins. What business do you have with me?’”

When it became clear that both Marinette and Adrien weren’t going to speak up - each seemed to be stuck in a cycle of catching the other’s eye, blushing, and looking somewhere else - Alya sighed and responded.

She cleared her throat. “During our travels, we uncovered something that we felt you ought to know. There was a…” Her eyes widened and she glanced between her flustered friends. “Um… What was he called? An evil sorcerer?”

Marinette mumbled something that might have been, “Dark adept.”

“Thanks, M.” Straightening her back, Alya looked toward Nino again. “There was a dark adept raising the dead to fight for him.”

“A flurry of murmuring erupts around you. The royal guard flanking the King tighten their grips on their halberds. The King himself has his lips tighten into a thin line before saying, ‘That is a bold claim, young knight. I trust that you brought justice to this renegade, in accordance with the laws of our land?’”

Alya nodded. “Of course! But there is more to it than that.” She checks her character sheet. “Who has the decrypted journal of the dark adept? It looks like it isn’t on me.”

There was a rustling of papers.

“Oh, right,” Adrien said, “I forgot that I was checking it for other clues.”

“Is that when you rolled another one and forgot how to read for a few hours?”

“Hush.”

“Anyway,” Alya said, returning to her character voice, “My ally has a decrypted journal we took from the adepts quarters. There were repeated references to the adept’s master, and hints of a larger plot against the kingdom.”

“The King frowns. ‘Let me see this journal.’”

“I’ll take it up to him.”

“He takes it from Adrien’s character and quickly skims through it, his eyes narrowing as he reaches the end. ‘I must thank you for your work in ending this threat, but it seems a larger one has made itself known. While I am sure you must want to rest, I must ask you to meet this threat to the kingdom.’ He gestures to an advisor nearby. ‘Pay these heroes five hundred gold pieces for each of them.’ His eyes land on you once again. ‘I’ll pay double that once you bring me proof that the Necromancer is dead, and his plot has died with him. Do you accept?’”

The other three exchanged looks between them.

“I’m all for earning a name for myself. And a quest from King Haman himself is about as good as it gets. I’m in.”

“I don’t have anything else planned,” Marinette shrugged, her eyes pointedly on the table in front of her. “I’m sure fighting evil will be its own kind of fun.”

“And where she goes,” Adrien nodded towards Marinette and met her eye. His voice lowered to almost a whisper. “...I’ll follow. Always.”

Something passed between them and it felt almost as if Nino were intruding. The moment passed, and the two of them broke out into furious blushes again.

“Right… so. The king nods, a faint smile on his lips. ‘Excellent. May the gods be with you in your quest.’” Nino took a sip of his drink. “Well, now you’re a little richer, and its time to level up your characters.”

For the rest of the session, Nino walked them through their first time leveling up and taught them the time honored art of spending their hard-earned gold. A new rapier for Adrien. Alchemist’s fire for Marinette. That sort of thing. They were feeling more confident now that they had more than their starting array of equipment, and Nino smiled as he watched them work. It was good to be the dungeon master.

--------

Later, after Adrien had taken Marinette home, Alya and Nino cuddled on the couch. With how big both their families were, it wasn’t often that they got a chance to hang out alone.

For a while, Nino was comfortable with the silence. But then curiosity got the better of him.

“So… how are you liking Dungeons and Dragons now? Still think it’s just for nerds?” He smirked at her as she rolled her eyes.

“Okay, I admit… I’m having loads of fun. It’s always nice to spend more time with you guys. And you especially,” Alya said, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “I’ve gotten surprisingly invested in this story. It almost feels like being Rena Rouge again, fighting evil and all that.”

“Not as likely to end up getting thrashed by a super villain, though.”

“Fair. And it’s nice to act like someone else for a while. Although,” she stretched, “it’s also nice when I don’t have to be the one taking the lead. I hope the babies get their act together soon. Being the leader is exhausting.”

“Poor babe,” Nino cooed, earning himself a gentle punch in the shoulder from his girlfriend. “Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll figure things out sooner or later.”

“It’s the later part I’m worried about. I just hope they’ll get their act together by next session.”

“I’m sure they will.” Nino wrapped his arms around Alya. “What’s the worst that could have happened? It’s not like they have big secrets that they are sitting on.”

They considered this for a few moments before Nino added,

“Besides the obvious crush thing, at least.”

#Miraculous Ladybug #Nino Lahiffe #Alya Cesaire #DJ Wifi #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Adrienette #D&D #Dungeons and Dragon #DnD #ml fanfiction #my writing #Nino's Quest

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lindoig4 · 5 years ago

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Starting our Greenland Expedition

(I have temporarily given up trying to post more photos. I spent several hours uploading the 3 recent pics in about 100 attempts. The internet is so dodgy here that I just hope Canada offers better pictorial opportunities.)

August 4

Today was the big changeover day when 30 of the 54 voyagers and a couple of staff were replaced with a fresh complement of crew and passengers. Heather was still not well enough to get out of bed, but we were booked to go searching for fossils so I got togged up and waited for the car to take us fossilising. We waited - and waited - and after more than an hour, when we couldn’t even contact the guides to find out where they were, the excursion was cancelled and we walked into town (about 2 km although we were told it was only 5 minutes down the road). It nearly killed me. This reflux problem (or whatever it is) made it impossible for me to keep up with the others so I just wandered along, stopping for a rest several times, but I made it - only to be told that our fossil hunt had been rescheduled for 2pm. The guide said he thought the 9am trip really meant 3.30pm but agreed to start at 2pm instead.

I had quite a few little things I wanted to buy (like toothpaste!) so I set off for the supermarket. Alas, it is Sunday so nothing opens until 11, or maybe noon, or after lunch or....... The supermarket opens at 3:30! I scrounged around the few other places that were open, but came up empty-handed. (One think I did see in one shop that tickled me was that their extensive range of cuddly polar bears were all stored and displayed in a large fridge!) I couldn’t find any of the things we wanted so I was forced to squat at the Radisson where a meeting room had been booked for all the Aurora people who were ashore. They provided a ‘sort of’ lunch for us - a pretty tasteless mayonnaise-drowned wrap that I assume the Radisson is ashamed to serve.

Our guide turned up almost on time to take 5 of the 9 originally-registered fossil hunters on our excursion. (Two were on the sick-list, one had to drop out to go shopping when the supermarket that sells everything opened, and one had withdrawn to go dog-sledding instead. They were the lucky ones.)

We had been told that it was a short easy walk from the car to the fossil field for anyone of average fitness. In fact, it was a challenge for an ultra-fit mountain goat with extensive mountaineering experience. It was at least 2 km and probably a 500 metre climb over the most treacherous terrain I have seen. We skirted the glacier along a path (in name only) that was often less than 20 centimetres wide and sloping at nearly 45 degrees to a 40-50 metres slide over precipitous shaly rocks to the ice below. One of our team had two falls suffering minor scrapes and bruises, but I was in fear for my life at several points. I suffered no injury, but getting up and down the stairs on board was hard work for my aching thighs for a few days. It took us just over an hour to get there so we only had 15-20 minutes cracking rocks looking for treasures before we had to trek back to the car to board the ship at 4:45. I had about given up looking for fossils when I had one final whack at a rock and discovered a fossilised twig - of which I am quite proud. It is far from impressive, but it is perhaps 60 million years old and I released it from its matrix in a fraction of second today! I hope I can get it home in our baggage.

I am really glad I did it for the bragging rights (and because I have a fossil to show for it) but would not recommend it to a healthy tahr. We all provided some pretty pointed feedback to the ship and I don’t think they will be offering it again to anyone without very close scrutiny in future. ��At least, they gave all the intrepid fossilisers a free bottle of wine to calm our nerves after the ordeal.

More than half our fellow expeditioners had to go through the mandatory lifeboat drill and safety briefings, but we experienced old-timers were exempt and watched smugly as they trooped off to their orientation practices.

It is interesting that so much of the second leg of our trip mirrors the first leg - even the menu. The Meet the Team, Meet the Captain, the Polar Plunge, BBQ night, the Captain’s Farewell and several of the lectures all repeat the format we have already enjoyed.

Greenland

Most of the stuff above (once it is posted, it will actually be below so I will leave it to the erudite reader to interpret the literary compass as he or she wishes) was written during our Svalbard circumnavigation - but our Greenland experience means that some parts of it need moderation of sorts.

We had two days with our new complement of expeditionists revisiting western Svalbard, albeit different areas than we had visited before. They were exceptional days, including one when we went to see the Three Bears. There is some dispute as to whether there were 3 or 4, but my photos indicate the former. We spied one big bear sleeping way up on the mountain (shall we nominate him/her as Father Bear?) so we Zodiac-ed across in the hope of a better look - only to see another adult (had to be a female so I will call her Mother Bear) with a cub who was obviously Baby Bear, somewhat higher up and off to the left of Father Bear. Some in our group must have had a spot of double vision, claiming to have seen two cubs - but I don’t believe them. We are reasonably sure that the bears were unaware of the others’ presence because if Mother Bear saw Father Bear, she would take Baby Bear far away - or Father Bear would likely kill Baby Bear in an attempt to persuade Mother Bear to cooperate in making more Baby Bears next season. But look as I would, I could not see a single bowl of porridge anywhere on the mountain - nor a broken chair or a mussed up cot! Maybe they hadn’t read the script......

But after doing due diligence to our bear observations, we motored across to an adjacent glacier and did something really cool. Walking on a glacier is about as cool as you can get and it was an experience of a lifetime for both of us. It was a bit of an adventure getting up onto the glacier, but a lot easier than we imagined walking on it. We were able to explore a couple of small crevasses and walk quite a way on the ice. I don’t think we were the first or only people ever to set foot on a glacier, but it was certainly a big deal for me and we have the photos to prove it. Apart from being a couple of hundred metres above sea level, we were on an emotional high, an experience we never imagined we would have but one that gave us more of a thrill than many things, including long-distance bear watching.

Greenland is very different from Svalbard. We had two full days at sea sailing to Greenland and had to detour a few times when the ice became almost impassible. But we awoke to find ourselves surrounded by mountains even more spectacular than many in Svalbard and icebergs several hundred times bigger than anything we had seen before. There was comparatively little snow and the vegetation was hugely larger - I saw grasses over 30 cm tall and the biggest polar willows, although still prostrate and hugging the ground, had trunks/limbs up to almost 50 cm long/tall. The vegetation was quite varied: a lot was similar to that in Svalbard, albeit often not quite as miniaturised, but quite a few other species were interspersed. The first morning, we also saw our first musk ox, 3 adults and a calf, checking us out from high on a ridge, giving rise to almost unanimous comments about Apaches ready to attack the settlers.

I was also able to add a couple more birds to my list and I am itching to get some time on the Internet to confirm a couple of identifications and to check whether these are mainly just species we have seen before or variations (subspecies that are different from those seen in Russia and Scotland).

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rwby-party · 6 years ago

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Rwby-party talks stupidly about ships

Well not stupidly on purpose lmfao but still

and I’ll probably die talking about poly ships so they’re just mono ships

Bumbleby (Blake x Yang):

I’m not going to lie. Honestly, I’ve fallen out of love of this ship. I didn’t like it at first, then it quickly became my favorite, but honestly, All That Matters kinda soured their relationship for me. Like it wasn’t the song it’s self but just the realization of how shitty their situation was, and like.... If I’m going to be honest, if I heard that from the perspective of a girl singing about a guy, I’d hate it. It’s the way too common “Bad boy” song basically spun for them, and it’s just not something I’m into with ships. BLAKE WHY U A BADBOY At the same time though I died at the first ep when they interacted lmfao. It’s a ship I’ll always love and be passionate about, and is my favorite ship out of all of them in RWBY, but man does it have it’s problems. Not that every ship has to be perfect by any means, but still.

Renora (Ren x Nora):

Two best friends that have known each other for years falling in love with each other is something I cannot fuckin even DEAL WITH ITS PERFECT THEY’RE PERFECT

White Rose (Ruby x Weiss):

Never really liked this ship all that much. I don’t hate it (I used to cuz it was the most popular ship but now I see all the others just as much lmfao and I was the “anti-what’s popular” person when I was younger. While it’s cute and fun to see them together it just doesn’t click as a ship to me. It seems like RT ships it though tbh lately lol

Blacksun (Blake x Sun):

Blacksun has a special place in my heart but I feel similar about it as I do with Bumbleby. Blake needs to work on herself lol. I’m not gonna lie I was part of the group that hated how Sun followed her and I wish it was talked about between them. Stalking someone after their stalking boyfriend stalked them and hurt someone they cared deeply for should’ve had more consequences. However I also wish the fact that she slapped him was also talked about between them as well. It was really nice to see that Sun was really just after making her feel better, and I get the premise that sometimes you need help rather you want it or not, but I just kinda wish those things were touched upon. I still like the ship though lol, and the past is the past. I just mentioned it cuz it was a huge hang up for me and shipping them

Monochrome (Blake x Weiss):

I’ve never really been fond of ships where one of the characters used to be a bigot to the kind of people the other character was, so this one never really sailed for me, but I do like their interactions a lot. I hate to say that too, as it kinda implies I don’t trust Weiss, which is not the case at all.

Lancaster (Ruby x Jaune):

I’m going to regret admitting this but this was like the first ship I had in the show lmfao. I really thought these two were going to end up together in the first few episodes before Pyrrha stole my Jaune’s heart. A ship with them together would be awesome tbh. I feel like they really play off each other well, and are the best of friends. Jaune can be such an awesome guy and the show did a great job of showing how close of friends they are and how beautiful their friendship is. Taking that to a relationship would be fine by me, HOWEVER, I like them way more as friends than as a ship. Having close friends like that is so important. I just love their interactions as friends more than if it was a shippy thing.

Arkos (Jaune x Pyrrha):

Original OTP RIP ME

Honestly I love it but the more I think about it the more it falls from my favorite ship lol. I don’t know why, but I just kinda dislike it the more I think about it.

RoseGarden (Ruby x Oscar):

Honestly this ship has warmed on me. I still don’t like it cuz the whole Ozpin thing, but I feel like without that it does have the potential of being a cute ship. However like with Lancaster I like them as friends way better.

Nuts n’ Dolts (Ruby x Penny):

To be honest this was a ship I wasn’t into until like way after she died. (The RWBY chibi ep just like REALLY got to me man) I really feel like they’re adorable together and I wish there were more canon time with them together before Penny was gone ;~;

Cloqwork (Ozpin x Qrow):

HARDEST OTP TO SEE SINK ALJFKELAJ: I shipped these two the second Qrow said “All those missions, all the times I’m away in some far off place, it’s been for Ozpin,” cuz I thought that was gay as shit. With the recent eps I”m regretting that lmfao. Knowing that Oz probably didn’t even trust whatever’s going to be revealed in today’s ep with Qrow, someone who has been loyal to him since like day 1, is going to be major OOF. Honestly though this became one of my favorite ships when Oz was in his last body. I loved these two so much. How much Qrow stood by him and defended him (I am going to regret this after today’s ep aren’t I) Obviously with Oscar this ship is now sunk but yeah.

Tai Kwon Qrow (Tai x Qrow):

Can I talk about this ship name for a sec I love it Time for the first trash ship on our list lmfao.

I love these two together. I know they’re supposed to be bros but man I just ship it so much. I have no reason to other than seeing some good shipping pics (and frankly that one rwby chibi ep where they were arguing like a married couple RT PLZ)

Disabler (Yang x Mercury):

I don’t know what it is, but I just feel like these two would hit it off if Mercury wasn’t a bad guy lol. They have a similar feeling to me, like Mercury is the Yang of the baddies is that makes sense. So I think they could work together.

Reading Rainbow (Ilia x Blake): Okay can I talk about THIS ship name for a sec it’s perfect This became one of my favorite ships very quickly, when Ilia was redeemed. I was hoping she’d kinda take the place for Blake with the ‘new” white fang thing they’re doing, but it looks like it’s her dad doing it. That’s okay though, Ilia had a bangin new outfit in the first ep of Vol 6 and looked amazing and how she was reacting to Blake and just akejf;aljfekal;jk I can’t handle these two I want to see this be canon as much as i want Bumbleby to be

Rosebird (Summer x Raven):

I don’t know which one of you heckers started me on this ship but man JAKLFJekls;fjekl;sjak;lf Literally no canon interaction but I just like Poly STRQ So much the thought of them all being one big happy fuckin family was awesome how DARE YOU RWBY. SO WHAT IS SUMMER WAS DEAD FROM LIKE DAY ONE

Noahs Ark (Neptune x Jaune):

I think this one’s a lovely ship with how enamored Jaune seemed to be of Neptune and how cool he thinks he is, lol. I at least think it can develop from there.

Martial Arcs (Ren x Jaune):

Just RWBY chibi got me to ship this like BIG TIME They act like a married couple in that show all the time lol.

Sea Monkeys (Sun x Neptune):

Honestly I wish Neptune would figure out that his compulsive urge to flirt with women is just internalized homophobia and marry sun already

(Okay I’m joking but still I love this ship to bits and pieces)

Ladybug (Ruby x Blake):

This one has a special place in my heart as well. While I do love bumbleby, I love this one too. I think Ruby and Blake’s personalities really compliment each other. I just wish they interacted more tbh, it just doesn’t seem like they do that often. Hopefully there’s more of that.

Freezerburn (Yang x Weiss):

Didn’t really have too many feelings about this until the reunion they had and I started to ship it, lol. Not something I fawn over but is a good ship nonetheless

Flown North (Qrow x Summer):

OOF This ship kills me and it came out of nowhere. Once again, no canon interaction between these two shown right now, but man I ship it hard.

Would I want it to be canon? ABSOLUTELY NOT

Sienna x me:

1000/10 best ship

Also send in more and I’ll comment on them!

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kellyinboston · 7 years ago

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Data Dump

I’m alive. Just busy.

I started a WHAT Wednesday post on Wednesday and got about a paragraph in before I had to stop. Work is busy in general but on top of that I am training some colleagues to take over when I am out and we will get through 5 items and then the next 8 more items will pop up for us to go over. I am literally drowning (not literally).

But…I really cannot complain, life is AOK. I like my work and my colleagues, Neil has been home more often, Snoop is still Snoop so AOK!

I am 38 weeks tomorrow and feeling good considering. I am relatively uncomfortable but not excessively so. The baby is moving, last night he/she was REALLY active. I went in for a check-up on Wednesday and the doctor thought I might be breeched so they brought me back in yesterday for an ultrasound and I am not breeched so that is good news. We got some 3D images of the baby which was pretty cool, although the baby’s hand looks a bit strange.

(does anyone remember the movie Scary Movie with this character and his “strong hand”... makes me laugh every time...anywho...the baby’s hand kinda looked like that)

We haven’t seen an ultrasound since 20 weeks so it was nice to see that things appear to be progressing as they should. I guess the baby weighs approximately 7lb5oz. We are mostly ready for the baby…I mean we have all the physical items we need (except for a couple things which I will order this weekend) but not sure if we are ready for the parenting aspect of having a baby, but that ship has sailed.

Does anyone use the bathroom and then not remember if they actually went pee? This has been happening to me a lot lately. My pee frequency has increased dramatically and sometimes I will leave the bathroom and think “did I even go pee?”.

NBA playoffs are on…now that I think of it, maybe that is the reason Neil has been home at a decent hour this week. I thought it was for family time…but now I am not so sure.

I have been craving butter and jelly on toast lately, so I bought some strawberry preserve at Trader Joes and I am pretty pleased with it. You know what smell I like…toasted bread.

I am going to be writing a post that talks only about books…so get excited for that.

I made this soup the other night. 2nd time making it.

It is a like a cheesy, chicken chili soup and I really like it. Neil thought it was kinda spicy, but he is not good with spicy foods. I was able to freeze some for later use. I am going to try to do some food prep this weekend for when the baby comes. I want to make (and freeze) some enchiladas, lasagna, chicken noodle soup…any other ideas?

No big plans this weekend, need to clean our floors and give Snoop a bath…but nothing really beyond that. I will have to work for a few hours…probably take an afternoon nap. Don’t be too jealous!

We had ice cream cake at work today and it tasted delicious but now I feel real bad and gross, but you know what they say, don’t regret something you did because at one point it made you happy.

I have a couple friends whose due date is today, one is getting a c-section the other is only 1 cm dilated so unlikely that she will be giving birth today. So she may have to wait 5 days to be induced if nothing happens naturally. Ugh. I feel for her, I am ready to go today and I still have 2 weeks before my due date.

This is what book I am reading…

I have a “bookstagram” account where I post photos of the books I read and I can have conversations with people about the book (sounds creepy than it is), anywho…this is the pic I posted the other day. Pretty impressive don’t you think?

Alright…that’s all I’ve got!

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jmrsullivan-blog · 7 years ago

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SHE OF THE SEA

A short story about an otherwise land with no cat pirates, especially not female ones.

SHE OF THE SEA

For Aimee Charlotte Brown

On almost Christmas 2017

By J.M.R.Sullivan

Cats hate sailing. Most cats spend their entire lives avoiding the wretched wet and, generally, nobody wants to be a sailor. Sailing is regarded so poorly in the Purisian Confederacy that their navy is almost entirely made up of prisoners and convicted felons. The number is so large that there are entire fleets of penal ships, though state of the art they may be, few of them actively do anything. It was an inherently cultural problem. For the average Volunteer Pursian sailor’s status was so low, that he was likely only to be preened after a Binwhisker or Littersniff. The Purisian Navy was a prestige project, staffed by the unwilling, and in retrospect; what is truly shocking is the inevitability of the tale i am about to unfurl.

Sailing however, is not to be confused with the act of piracy, or rather, the occupation of being a Pirate. A cat who sails for the nation is a wet slave and a sad whiskers, but a cat who sails for himself braves the wretched wet for great reward. To him gravitates a most persuasive romance of daring avarisitc adventure and exotic encounter. Very few cats do become pirates, their natural loathing of the sea deterring but the most irregular, but those who have often become notoriously followed, and perversely admired. A person more regularly immersed in a life at sea might hogwash all these charming fantasies. Indeed, a more regularly immersed person may tell you that for the majority, a buccaneer’s lot is brutality from without and within, his poverty, and very often his death. Regardless to the truth of these perspectives, one thing is consistent, it is “he”.

There are no female cat pirates. Mathematics would dispute this, but cats haven't much time for mathematics. For a Prince* to harness his inner conflicts and unleash them on an unfair world in witticisms and well choreographed swordplay, was perfectly believable, even perversely covetable. But for a Princess to rush so headstrong after treasure, to risk her constitution and beauty, to pursue what could be so easily provided by an admirer, and worst of all, to do so in such proximity to vast amounts of water, was frankly, unthinkable.

But this was all about to change…

*Technically all cats are titled Prince and Princess. This stems from both a pragmatic need to prevent petty quarrelling, and a deep rooted obnoxious pride that instills in them the belief that all Cats are inherently royal creatures. This mixture of arrogance and etiquette created an insufferable, occasionally ridiculous, but sustainable society.

My story begins in my humble island parish. As a noble seeking a simpler life I had taken post on the small port refuge of Saltskerry. Here our island served as a way-station off the north coast of Purisia for the many trout and tuna miners, venturing out to barren northern iceflows. Once there, they would besiege the most gargantuan of icebergs, lay their charges and swing their pics, and liberate the silver trapped within. These ships would return to port bloated with their fishy fortune and after many weeks of labour their crews would disembark upon Saltskerry to trade their newfound silver for gold, and their newfound gold for flesh.

As a man of the creed I discouraged these more illicit activities, and the cohort of gangsters and thuggies that surrounded them. But, I would refuse none my spiritual stewardship, be they miner, cohort or even pirate. All, in time, became the same. and all would be returned to the hand of the keeper. life was hard enough for the people here, few grew to age and fewer saw bounty. It was not my place to judge the many names that would become etched on the beams of the parish.

The trouble began one dawn in August. A most terrible storm had raged the night before, howling and thrashing throughout the night. Vengeful, massive and reported as far as the Lapin coast, It had whipped at our little island all night and away in the distance i could hear the frantic scrabble of man against nature, as so many crews tried to secure their restless and invigorated ships. I, unconcerned with such matters, lay tucked in my Hutching until a great crash startled me from my housing. Unsure of my spectacles and composure I hurried half robed into the hall where I would meet her.

“Do you speak fer keeper, sir?”

Silhouetted in my splintered doorframe lent a soaking wretch. Her female form betrayed by sodden clothes that clung and ran with water. A face scarred with trials, And a most ruined long wig.

“Your long ears, do they work, Myaa?”

As my poor eyes awakened, I took in the distinct pragmatic attire of a buccaneer, complete with sword, belt and now surely ruined pistols. Her high slurred meow proof of breeding as the lowest variety of alleyscratch.

“Yes, madam, I am the father here…” blurted I. “But i assure you,we have no gold to plunder.” Composure finally bleeding back into my character. “Be … be about your way now and we shall forgive the vandalism as rot and strong wind.” I Completed, surprising myself.

A purse was slung into my chest, which i caught ungraciously.

“Oh no sir, Not gold i’m after. Gold will not solve this, Myaa.”

The knave in my nave lurched further, i could now begin to make out her expression. And i saw a desperate invigorating fear. Her eyes, wild and sharp. The fear of someone who had seen death, but was determined not to become acquainted.

“I don’t understand”

“I seek divine protections sir. Upon reception of ‘string of bad luck, I concede, finally, for some holy securities. An exercise in blessed protections. Big year ahead.”

She liberated another purse from her sodden coat.

“When so nearly ruined, when t‘sea tries ‘take it all, worth of things, worth of things aint the same after.” She weighed the pouch in her hand “Way I learn it, value of such varies like the tide, What a drowner wouldn’t wish for a desert, and what the richest thirsty sultan wouldn't wish for a sea.”

“You cant drink sea-water” I responded instinctively, before remembering my mortality in this company.

“Ha, Indeed!” she conceded, winking.“‘self a lesson for another time…”

“So, This big bag a’ gold for ‘tever ward or sacrament will keep keepers hand keen to me interest. Myaa?”

I eyed the jingling bulge for a moment, a moment not lost on my guest. My covetous peep prompting an expansive wet grin that saw my aspirations, of what good could be done with such a sum.

“Alas madam, I have no such trinkets. Nay, do i think any exist outside the stalls of shamsters and quacks.”

She deflated into a pew with a squelch.

“You certain?” she enquired, crestfallen. “You ain’t sat on some tellin’ of a long lost relic of Keepers kindness made manifest?”

“No miss.” My tone softening at her despondency “ if we’ve got any of those, they haven't told me. We could probably use one, out here.”

“Myoh.” She relented, mournfully.

“But, If you repent of your wickedness and that of your crew, then surely i can bless you? That's something?” I encouraged.

She stirred not.

“Do you repent of your wickednesses and that of your crew?”

“Their debts are now paid.”

“Paid..? By who’s account?”

“On account ‘them bein’ dead sir, wrecked upon the rocks yonder.”

This shook the fog from my head, as i realised the reason for her state.

“A wreck!? should we not send help? We can assemble a posse...”

She waved the notion away “No bother, all dead, to a man.”

She reached to doff her cap but it were missing. “A good crew they was too. Definitely a setback.”

I rummaged for a towel for the sopping criminal now in my hospitality. Which she rejected; “Got Wet bones sir, ain’t no bother for me.”

“Then Should we not at least perform some kind of service, for the perished?” I proposed.

Her haggard face turned to me and a light of appreciation glimmered “A kind gesture father…” expression hardening... “But I canne’ stay.”

“So you were a pirate captain?”

She straightened her back and lifted her chin “Captain? I’m Keepers-own pirate Queen! Myaa.”

“I didn't know pirates had queens?”

Her manner dropped conspiratorially,

“In my experience father, What a pirate can and can’t ‘ave is limited only by ability.”

“Well... Your Majesty... do you repent of your wickednesses and pledge yourself to Keepers hand?”

“Not on your life, I’m a careerist” she paused in thought. “And I don’t see how it squares wit’ hangman neither.”

“Maybe not square with this law, but that of the next.”

“Nah, you’ll bless me, just as you would any other wicked monarch.”

“I shan’t”

“You bloody shall, Myaa.” Her hand slipping from her lap to her hilt like magic.

I took a step back

“I shan’t bless you madam, I will admonish pirates, bury pirates, I think i’ve even officiated a pirate wedding once, But i cannot ask of the keeper to favour someone so unrepentant.”

“That So?” Her eyes narrowed defiantly, but her focus snapped off, and her brow furrowed.

I leaned in to the pause...

“Fair ‘nuff” She conceded, popping to her feet and surprising me into instinctive recoil. “A good captain don’t fight ‘tide! Thank You, Father.”

She strode out of my church, wringing out big strands of her wig as she went. I scurried in pursuit to the doorway.

“Who are you, madam?” I called to the retreating figure.

“She of the Sea, Queen of Pirates, and a pleasure it was to meet you, father…?”

“Von Hopp… err.. Your Majesty?”

“Ha! Very good! Myaa.” And she marched down the path, closing my little gate behind her.

As she fled into the growing daylight I gathered the wreckage of the door, mopped the flagstones of evidence of my visitor and, after having had breakfast, ventured down to the town to inform the constable. A militia rapidly formed (more for want of bounty on “pirate royalty” than civic duty) but despite their enthusiasm, no trace of She of the Sea could be found. She had slipped away like a serpent amongst the bustling sailors, Each too rough, disinterested or preoccupied to recollect her presence at the port. And each too intelligent to betray “pirate royalty” in their own line of work.

We then headed down to the rocks beneath the parish and sure enough, the fleeting remnants of a wreck were scattered amongst the shingle, but so savage must have been the the storm upon that ship that no bodies could be found, and any of the vessel present, nought but matchwood. I held a little service with whatever recognisable items i could find upon the beach and lit some candles as the sun began to set. The sea on the horizon became quite calm, and i retired early after a very long day.

Worried of a repeat visit, I had the constable stay with me for a week or so after the incident. He was a portly hamster, more interested in a smooth running island than adherence to the letter of the law. A good enough sort for a such a questionable refuge, to be sure, but he well understood the value of a blind eye, and the community prevailed on the understanding that most misdemeanors would sort themselves out amongst affected parties. Noone benefited from excessive pioty and the boat was best not rocked. When her patronage did not repeat, I returned to my routine as I had the ten or so years prior. I tended the faithful, Kindly proslatised the rutters and vagrants, and admonished the dead. In this way, life continued until about six months later, when I received an interesting Invitation.

Though I have become a humble clergyman in occupation, my heritage of royalty created certain obligations, both mine and otherwise, to the other nobles in the Kingdoms. As a result of this, I received an invitation to the Ceremony of Vantages, A Purisian royal affair acting as the culmination of a years politicking and intrigue. Officially, all Purisian royalty occupies the same rank, but some sit higher than others in the great room of pillars, and this positioning will dictate the influence for the coming year. All Cats are Princes, yes, but a formally informal King is certainly implied as a result of this meeting, and all Royals from within and without are invited to witness this, and assumedly admire the feline decadence displayed.

And so, Duty calling, I packed my Finarries and prepared for the three day voyage that would take me to the northern border of the Purisian Confederacy. From here i would travel down the river Mog to the the Purisian Capital, Clowder. Here the Oppulance and wealth of the Confederacy was in full display, and in keeping with the Purisian character, it’s citizens pretended not to notice. I had always had a degree of polite Contempt for the Purisian Confederacy. I found its overbearing deliberate indifference to it’s wealth and splendor progressively tiring. Indeed, a societal smugness to their success permeated the citizenry from the highest pride to the lowest bumsniff. and of course, the curious omittance and subversion of the source of this wealth, a shame of which i shall not speak of here, alienated many modern minds in the know, of the cost of all these feasts and banners.

As a Lapin royal I was allocated a seat with other Laputians on the lower circle. Our showing was meagre as Lapin was quite removed from Purisian influence. Clearly few of my brothers felt the need to endure the boredom. The Ceremony of Vantages is a very drawn out affair. Purisian royalty would mingle their way around the gantries and pillars subtly and seemingly obliviously, moving into their formally informally preordained positions. The results of months of backbiting, conspiracy and political intrigue. Occasionally there would be awkward pauses as cats, determined to perhaps climb another rung on the societal ladder, would at the last second jockey, sometimes even discretely scuffle for a slightly higher pillar. By the end, a new hierarchy would be determined, and a formally informal king (or queen) would sit highest amongst the court.

Or so it should have been. About two hours into the ceremony, as the lower pillars had reluctantly filled, and the remaining aristocracy politely fraternised to increasing altitude, my eyes finally closed. My head lolled starboard to the already sedate shoulder of Count Hessen von Burrow and everything should have been as it had been the last ten times before. But a very familiar crash provided a welcome intermission.

Striding beyond a broken door into the centre of the hall disrobed a familiar figure. A Purisian royal, slowly discarding her finaries, revealing a rogue beneath. With a long splendid wig and fabulous Bicorne stood She of the Sea, clapping defiantly amongst the discretely squabbling aristocracy. Her sarcastic applause echoed until it held monopoly on the acoustics.

“G’devenin, Sirs…. Madams….” She ventured into the bewildered silence. “Sorry for my questionable punctuality, Myaa.”

A butler type feline rushed forward from the stands to intercept but was swiftly deflected, spiralling behind as she paced the room.

“I did find myself without invitation, making me sneak in here like a draft, such lack of good manners unbefitting such noble nobles, such poor treatment of a fellow Queen.. ”

This statement peaked interest, and the slowly incircling guards held fast.

“Who the devil are you? Meow!” Questioned an anonymous voice.

“By what breeding do you back your claim, Mew?” called another.

“Plenty breeding ma’am...your Da for one, Myaa!”

This retort caused such an audible intake of breath some of candles went out. One or two more delicate minds feinted, and A ripple of delight spread amongst the foreign dignitaries, who had until this point been counting seconds to the feast.

“Queen...Queen of where? Madam, Myow”

“I am She of the Sea. Queen of Pirates!”

This broke the hall into thunderous laughter. Jeering enchoed around the walls as the lords and ladies defied the very notion of such a thing. The six court guards, halberds lowered, needed no further prompting to interject and sprung forth to cut down the vagrant. Alas, each of them came off neutered of their ears. She of the Sea’s cutlass carving each without effort, leaving five of six assailants yowling and bloodied grasping at their ruined heads. The sixth, recalculating his odds, turned and fled for help. Where he was met by two other guards arriving in a doorway, These reinforcements then blunty hacked him down. Indeed, Around the room guards appeared in every doorway, and though in splendid uniform of palace guards, their faces and races betrayed them as imposters, Imposters eagerly anticipating insubordination from the royals.

The Jeering and Yowling petered out at this display of force and intent. The hall fell silent but for the whimpering of the deafened guardsman.

“So, ‘eres t’scratch.” declared the pirate queen. “Things ‘ere are gonna change.”

At this statement all the cats began to look away. Their eyes wide, but staring into space. Not one face engaged with She of the Sea as she paced the room. It was if they were all desperately trying to pretend she wasn’t there.

“See, my title were earned, grafted, what have you tubbards done Myaa? all this sitting on high chairs and constant posturing. While i’ve been out, earnin’ crust, earnin’ respect.”

Silence, but for pacing boots upon the marble.

“Is that fair Sirs? Ladies? I’m doin’ all t’work, risking my tail, and I’m one storm away from t’grave, one shiv away from ‘grave, one dodgy boarding away from ‘grave.”

The audience shifted uncomfortably on their podiums.

“I feel you take your place for granted, Sirs, ladies. Powers made yuh lazy Myaa. I’d say you’re all so comfy you forget yourselves. You’d forget ‘world outsides not all feasts and fussing, Forget some old mog might strole in here and take it all. You’re all Stupid..

Their eyebrows raised.

“... fat…”

Eyebrows raised further, eyes staring furiously at nothing.

“.., and pretty.”

Some conciliatory nods.

“Nuts to that lads.”

The doormen jeered agreement. She of the Sea grinning victoriously at the assembly.

“So heres the deal, in one hundred and sevenee seven days, i’ll be back to marry ‘king Myaa.”

Confusion rippled throughout the hall as she took a conciliatory tone.

“Now Sirs ‘n Ladies, I dont care who it is, that’s your discression. But believe me, I’ll be back in six months, and you make no mistake chummers, I’ll be queen if i have to bugger whichever fairy twat you choose myself.”

Murmurs of outrage trickled around as the Aristocrats could no longer ignore such a proposition.

“Never, Meow!” came a voice

“Scruffer!, Myow” Came another.

As the discontent bubbled, she stood strong as it washed over her. She breathed it deep, like an invigorating lung of sea air, unperturbed.

“That’s t’spirit Myaa. Just remember, one hundred and sevenee seven days, to marry whichever of you fluffed ponces wants to be king.”

She turned, as if to leave, then paused.

“Oh! One more thing, Sirs, Ladies. Since i want you to know im serious, and committed to this... I think a Diet, is in order.”

Outrage. Yowling. Once dignified nobility arched their backs in hate, spitting fury at their unwelcome guest. She nodded like a pantomime villain as the gantries became a furious tantrum.

“Whole confed is gonna cut back on the silver. Now, don’t worry fatties, I’ll remove every scrap of temptation, the whole confed is gonna be trim as a tart for my wedding. Not a fish in the village, as they say, make you all lean ‘n sexy.”

One particular noble, a plump mustachioed cat, chest swollen with medals, lent foremost and put comprehension to the furore.

“This, Meow! Is an Outrage! Meow! What makes you think you can bloodywell come here, Meow! And threaten Diet! Meow! And not have us cut your scruffing head off the second you step out that door! Meow!”

Enjoying every moment of this rich theatre, she paused, and mocked contemplation.

“Well Sir, ‘cause you gone and built a bloody tunnel under yur’ chambers now, didn't ya?”

Tapping thrice upon the marble floor, a great cacophony of smoke erupted from the tiling. As masonry crumbled away into the darkness below, a merriment of cackling sung from the breech, Heinous perverse voices raucous in their miscreancy. The guards on the exits skipped and ran down to their escape, slapping and taunting the audience as they went. And as she stepped into the black below and bid farewell, I thought she a demon returning to hell.

The country was in uproar. Three heads of police became sans in both position and body. The Purisian Press, regarded by even the ruling classes as distinctly sycophantic, roused the proles into uproar. An interruption of the Vantage Ceremony! A declaration of intent to marry! A threat of mandatory Diet?! By a (hitherto impossible) Female Pirate Queen?!! Outrageous!

Impossible!

Revenge!

Murder!

Death!

A little green mouse may as well have floated down from the moon and shat on every cat's nose.

I shall admit, much like other foreign royals, I struggled to maintain discretion in finding the whole scenario deeply amusing. After the immediate threat had passed, of course. The Purisian Confederacy had a very maintained image, and it was fun to see their tree shaken. Not so however for the rulers. Most of whom took it in the height of seriousness. For after all, one of them would be force to wed the Seafairing Bint.

Reserves were mobilised. Prisoners who had until now, languished in warm dry misery, were shipped in their hundred to docks where they languished in cold wet misery. Admirals, Some of whom’s closest interaction with a boat was a vessel for gravy, were suited and booted and marched off to their fleets. The Navy’s orders were simple, blow that pirate out of the water, make her demise so unpleasant and humiliating that the only time the incident at the ceremony will be remembered would be as prelude to a foreboding parable of rue and gruesome woe.

Due to the massive scale of the reaction, the Confederacy became content that victory was inevitable and everything largely went back to normal. The Navy was massively mobilised, and patrolled the northern sea for pirates of all shapes and sizes, at one stage it was said that there were so many ships active in the northern sea, that one could travel in any direction for 300 miles and still be in view of a Confederate ensign.

As I travelled home, it nibbled at the back of my mind. The force of character it must have taken to survive a wreck in such a storm, to breach THE royal gathering, to dictate to some of the most powerful furs on earth, and to escape with no much as a nip was a truly incredible feat. But the game was over now surely, the element of surprise was lost, and the Confederate Navy now eager and mobile, scouring the ocean for anything resembling an upstart cat in a blonde wig.

For the first month or so nothing much happened. The Navy’s alertness gradually wayned at the lack of action and the atmosphere of outrage subsided. She of the Sea was an empty threat.

Until the mysterious disappearance of the the Trout Mining Ship Mr Snuggles.

Then, Princess did not return, Then Colin. Max, Tiger, Fluffy. Whiskers, Tyko. In the Month of June, thirteen ships of one hundred returned, or returned with haul.

Fish prices sored. The rivers and shores (as close to water as most Purisians hoped to get) were fished bare. Rationing was introduced, and then almost immediately subsided as there were no stocks to supplement ration cards. Worse yet, the hugely expanded Navy, mostly made of aforementioned prisoners and penal sailors, began to starve. Particularly vicious mutinies began as some of the ships turned to piracy themselves to survive. It was an absolute disaster for the Purisian Government and many citizens, too tired to riot, became uncharacteristically lean.

The Descriptions of the assailing ship were all alike. A black fog would manifest out of the blue and a giant metal bottle would emerge from the unholy mist. Along it’s spine protruded great lacerating fins, and at its prow, a crowned and ghastly Jolly Roger. The Metal vessel would circle the victim, and the crew would panic and man battle stations, those ships with armaments would fire them upon the predator and amazingly cause it to flee, apparently disappearing into its smog. Then the prey ship would contort with an unheavenly wooden rip. A splintery tear would echo off the iceflows as the keel was brutally dissected, rupturing the hold and its contents and splitting the ship in half like an egg. For most at this point, their fate was sealed. Certain death waited any who so much as dipped in the northern water, and most ships could not survive such terrible damage to their underlying structure. The only survivors who had made it back, were those who had somehow survived their first attack and ran for the hills, or had been picked up in patrolling Navy ships.

Navy ships had taken losses too, in much a similar fashion, though their losses were more sporadic as the assailants attention seemed focussed on the miners. The Navy, on paper the most powerful in the northern Biosphere, had completely collapsed, Those ships who hadn't deserted or been destroyed, retreated to large, escorts for individual miners, demoralised at the ineffectiveness of their conventional weapons on this new foe. Most Mining companies with any sense, had decided to wait out the wedding, and hope that the Pirates deadly blockade would be lifted after her point had been made.

Public pressure began to heavily harrow the aristocracy. Many were now welcoming their previously medically impossible pirate queen. The palace resisted, its official line being “The Purisian People would rather eat paint than perch under a Pirate, especially a lady pirate, especially a lady pirate in a terrible wig.” But these brave attempts at resistance were now becoming drowned out by the rumbling of hungry bellies.

Many speculated who the “lucky” prince would be. Before this crisis, the formally informal high prince was a well bred, charismatic and intelligent Feline by the name of Machiavelli. But lately, he had had a cough, and his presence at court had become much diminished. Many, in suspicious correlation with the fish famine and incoming deadline had come down with mysterious ailments. Count Thomas, one of the most affluent and influential patricians at court, had come down with a sore leg. Prince Sooty, a well bred intellectual and poetic genius had “the sneezes”.

This pseudo abdication of these movers and shakers had created something of an aristocratic goldrush amongst the high born B team. A new cream emerged from the cheese of the high sitting, and ahead of the pack, mainly by virtue of oblivious good health was Lord, Sir. Percy Fennimore of Tumbletum. Lord Percy had generally advanced up the ranks of vantage by being well bred, amiable and cooperative. Considered by some, too dumb to offend, now this opportunity of leadership had thrust itself upon him, and being a good cat, he had impaled himself upon it.

Many of the more devious felines had suggested an ambush during the wedding. Should she arrive, she would be seized and executed, and they could all go back to not being so horribly humiliated. However, as the date drew ever closer, the court received a letter in black envelope, with a seal of melted gold, delivered by hand, by a former captive of a thought-lost mining vessel. The poor fellow reportedly dressed in the rags of his uniform, and quite the worse for his capture. The letter contained, aside from a few fish bones, the names of over three thousand captured maritime crew, both navy and merchantile, who would be executed should she not return. The messenger confirmed these numbers, and spoke of the eagerness with which their captors enforced discipline upon them. Still, many of the high born dubbed this an “affordable loss”. But enough of the captured were related to the higher sat, that this course of action was ultimately suspended.

As the 8th approached, everyone in the confederacy and surrounding territories was on the edge of their seats. Could the confederacy turn into a pirate nation? Would She of the Sea even turn up? Was it all a ruse to plunder the treasury? I was about to discover that my proximity to the affair was to greatly decrease. For on the Monday morning, as i woke and opened my door to collect the milk and eggs of breakfast, A mute in jet black buccaneers garb awaited me. At my surprise and questioning he only offered a black envelope, and once given and in my hands. Turned and marched off down the path.

As i watched the figure retreat, in similar fashion i had so many months before, I took in the sigil on the golden seal. It was a horrid imprint of a skull upon what appeared to be a confederate guinea. With some effort i broke it, revealing the letter within.

“Dear Rupert Von Hopp

I hereby invite you to ordain my wedding between {this space was blank} and myself.

The wedding will occur on the 8th of August at the Palace of Vantages in Clowder.

Bring whatever religious officialdom you deem necessary.

Participation in mandatory.

Do not be late.

Regards - Her Royal Highness, Queen of Pirates, She of the Sea.”

+++

As the 8th of August dawned it did not dawn. A massive storm that raged throughout the day put the sun into hiding with oppressive black clouds that stretched in every direction. The entire country was buffeted by tree snapping winds and impossible seas. A most foreboding atmosphere as a poetic prelude to the events to come.

The hall of vantages had been refitted now to accommodate the ceremony. Half of the giant octagonal hall was flat as was before, but now a giant staircase that covered half the space stretched up to the ceiling, topped with a platform, where the royal ornaments of marriage were located. Two thrones awaited married bottoms. A podium with my prepared notes sat infront of this and by its side, the murine wand, a golden baton and, constrained by rope, gold mock rodent, to complete the service.

The attendees sat either side of the stairs, creating an aisle up the centre, and fine perfumes wafted about in abundance, presumedly in preemption for the odours that would shortly be joining them. Nobody looked happy.

The storm raged outside the palace, windows shaking in their frames against the blackened furious weather. The river Mog, frothing and spluttering forth great waves of froth and foam upon the undefended promenade. A great wind encircled the forlorn ceremony, a reminder of how the Confederacy had been (soon to be literally) brought to one knee by She of the Sea. As the Congregation waited, I went over my notes again and snuck a shot of brandy from a hidden flask to steel my nerves. A glance at Percy prompted my charity and i slipped him the bottle, which he chugged.

As we waited in silence, punctuated only by the woeful weather outside, the distant whine of strings could be detected. Indeed, it grew on the edge of our perception until it became a tune upon the wind. It grew louder and more distinct, with familiar melody, and as the main doors opened, we knew it had begun. The musicians led the parade, a trio of fiddling loons entered the hall playing the national anthem. As they hopped and skipped, whooping in glee, the congregation, unsure at whether this gesture was patronage or insult, awkwardly shifted between respect and disgust. Behind the fiddlers came the flower mice, plucking their flowers and discarding them, somewhat aggressively into the faces of the onlooking guests. The procession advancing up the steep stairs. A guard of honour six thugs wide and thirteen scoundrels deep paraded in their nonuniform uniform. Bristling with swords and sabers, guns varying in crudeness, every type of thuggish visage imaginable, and each, to a man, a giant.

But the worst was yet to come.

Behind this terrible vanguard strode She of the Sea, And in her crass humour, clad in a dress stitched of stolen ensigns from the multitude of Purisian Vessels lost prior. A train of colours that stretched several meters, carried in shackles by wretched visions of former officers, obviously captured as prizes for this disgraceful parade.

I cannot pretend that I had not, up unto this point, taken a certain degree of enjoyment from the suffering of the Confederate court. The Purisians had always been proud, and arrogant, and to see them laid so low had been a long time coming, to say nothing of the reckoning that would be for the great unnamed shame we shall not speak of here. But this depraved display of vulgarity so deeply disturbed me that it was as if the levity of the situation was sucked from me like a breech into vacuum, like a rude awakening from a dream.

She escalated the stairs to where Lord Percy and myself were waiting. Her distasteful dress aside, Her wig flowed all the way down to her thighs and her scars were painted with a variety of powders and chemicals to hide the disfigurements bestowed by her business. Percy had begun to sweat profusely, his previously cavalier attitude withered and sullen in the face of this new ascending reality. At the head of the stairs she joined us, and presented him with a most sarcastic curtsy.

“G’devenin Sirs.” she snarked “My arent you boys looking trim.”

She wasn't wrong. Many of the Cats in attendance were draped in their robes. Percy had lost so much weight his finaries looked like a tent.

She waited with a shark smile for a few moments, which dropped as she nodded for him to get on with it.

“Oh. Oh’m yes, meow!” Percy Stammered, grasping at pockets about his robes “Will, uh, you, Miss, She of the Sea… Marry me?”

“Why my lords!” she turned to the gathered congregation “What a surprise!”

Her faux humility suddenly shattered as a huge flash of lightning and accompanying thunder rang out about the palace.

“Yes, proceed.” she nodded, anxiously. Outwardly dominant but i could tell that this weather, through perhaps an instinctive fear of the storm, or something other, was pressing on her wits.

Rain, sheeted across the glass panel ceiling, the patter so loud that I had to raise my voice to be heard. As I read the opening statements of matrimony i noticed her face growing in anticipation, she became tense and would continuously glance at the windows and the storm. The Feline royalty did pick up on this, and craned to see her growing nervousness.

More thunder, more rain. The wind shook the paynes so hard that I thought at any moment they would fall lose from their fixtures. The thugs, so stern on entry began to shift in their formation, some subtlety reached for their arms, others sunk inside their posture, as if willing the storms eyre to pass over them.

By the point of the vows, the Pirate Queen had lost all pretense of levity. Her hand spun spurring me to rush the service, and Percy was scolded in hisses for fluffing his lines more than once. As i continued to rush through the vows i misplaced a prompt. As I hesitated and scrabbled amongst the notes of the podium I felt her gaze intensify upon me. But the absence of my voice against the storm left it dominant of sound in the acoustics of the hall. The wind began to strangely pattern, in, and out, the panes, vibrating like a death rattle with every rhythmic gust. Spotting my illusive note, i stooped to pick it up beneath the podium and here we all paused to hear the supernatural voice upon the wind. The winds wheezed words; a name, called over and over.

~Fell~Grass~

~FELL~GRASS~

The pirates began to mutter between eachother.

“Stand firm, you dogs!” she turned and bellowed to the troop.

“Father, look lively! Myaa!” leaning in and nodding, wild eyed.

~FELL~GRASS~

I was tempted to stall here, to probe at what was so frightening to this, herself, intimidating woman. But this weather, this voice was becoming a little rich for my blood. I galloped through the remaining statements, prompting Percy through his promises and I dos.

~FELL~GRASS~

“Speak now, or forever hold thy peace?” I ventured. The Pirate Queen reared up and stared down the congregation, mania in her eyes and hand on her hilt, should anyone dare to scupper the service. Her anxiety beginning to bleed into the crowd, all of whom began to huddle together.

“having witnessed your vows of love to one another, it is my joy to present you to all gathered here as…”

A loud patter of water stole everyones attention to the rear of the hall. There the ten foot palace doors, barred shut, dribbled water lazily into the atrium. A rush of water, like a tide, could be heard again to slosh against the wood, causing a heinous creeking and again a spill of water through the central seam.

~FELL~GRASS~

~creaaaaaaaaak~

~FELL~GRASS~

~CREAAAAAAAAAK~

The loons began to whoop and bounce, fiddling wildly. The flower mice had slipped away. She of the Sea turned and slammed the podium.

“COME ON!”

~CRASHHHHHHHHHHH~

A great tide of water broke open the doors and swept into the hall, lapping against the stairs. The vacuum of the hall pierced, a great wind swept up the congregation, and the voice upon it, given tone and character, and malicious intent.

The Pirate vanguard began to panic. “He’s here!” one cried. “Keeper save us!” another. The terror in the faces of such brutes deeply perturbed the plush royalty who began to cower and scrabble to the corners of the room.

“FELLGRASS, DID YOU THINK YOU COULD FLEE BEYOND MY REACH?”

She of the Sea drew her sword.

“DID YOU THINK YOU SAFE ON LAND?”

The sword leveled at my nose

“Err… Husband and wife… “ I stammered, turning to Percy. Percy had completely frozen in fear, as he stared past his beloved and into the churning water below. A form, A figure, ascended the rising spray.

“FELLGRASS, I SHALL HAVE MY JUSTICE.”

I shook him and he did not move. The Pirate Queen observing the coming nightmare gave me a motivating glance.

“FELLGRASS, I SHALL HAVE MY CROWN.”

“You may now, fuss the bride…”

She practically pulled Percy’s tongue out from his mouth and rubbed it against her cheek. His eyes still transfixed on the horror below, now approaching the stairs. She turned to face the furious guest.

The figure began to take more accurate form, a combination of sea animals, barnacles, and other living sea detritus, formed by commune, the stature of an Octopus. An octopus that now strode toward the stairs.

The Pirates drew their weapons and held them at arms length, each trying to get behind the other infront of the unholy creature. Its composed swarm stood at the foot of the stairs, and its monstrous collage face looked up at the paniced corsairs.

“I AM OCTAVIAN, KING OF PIRATES, KNEEL OR FLEE.”

In a shower of discarded arms the pirates fled up the stairs for the exits. Each avoiding the gaze of their furious queen.

“Get back here, Cowards! I’ll gut you an’ all yur mams! Myaa!”

As she glared after the retreating pirates she eyed the guards of the palace, each themselves overtook with terror at the apparent magic in their presence.

“Get down there and defend your Queen!” She snapped.

The guards steeled themselves and formed line at the head of the stairs, Lowering their halberds, they cautiously descended towards the figure.

“WAS THIS YOUR PLAN FELLGRASS?” water swelling now in the atrium, his boot ascending the first stair.

“CAN’T FLEE, CAN’T HIDE, YOU GET SLAVES OF NATION TO FIGHT ME OFF? A SPINELESS LEADING SPINELESS!”

The guards advanced down the stairs toward the frothing indoor sea. Octavian, atleast six foot five stared each in turn, getting the measure of them. His face a swarm of sea creatures and dark water. He let out a most wicked laugh, and with one sweep of his arm, swept the six aside in a conjured wave. The cats, scrabbling and frantic in the magic surf, were assailed by grasping hands and sorrowed faces, which pulled and bit them down beneath the water.

“ARMIES OF LAND SHALL NOT QUELL ME.”

Another step upon the stairway. The glass panes in the roof, under tremendous weight from storm of water, began to fail, creating pillars of rain within the hall. In these pillars too could be seen the wicked woeful faces of the lost, and horrid wet hands grasped out at any nearby. The horror of this bringing many present guests to tears. The loons were in full hilarity now, some swinging from the fittings and cackled nonsense.

She of the Sea pushed percy aside and stood atop the stairs, sword drawn.

“I am Pirate Queen, Octavian!”

“YOU ARE NOT QUEEN FELLGRASS, YOU CANNOT STEAL WHAT CANT BE STOLEN, THE ONLY RULE THAT CANT BE BROKEN”

Another step, and a rusted cutlass drawn from inside his form.

“A KNIFE IN MY BACK AND DEEP SEA GRAVE, DID YOU THINK NATURE WOULD ALLOW IT!”

“DID YOU THINK I WOULDN’T CURSE YOU!”

“DO YOU THINK I WOULDN’T FIND YOU!”

“EVERY YEAR UNTIL I CATCH YOU!”

“EVERY YEAR UNTIL I STEAL THE CROWN YOU STOLE!”

The storm was now incredible, lighting striking the very palace, wind whipping around the hall tearing banners and candles free in a vortex of natures hate.

“PIRATE CODE IS SACRED, PIRATE KING IS SACRED, I CURSED YOU AS MY LUNGS FILLED, I CRIED OUT T’SEA TO GRANT ME VENGEANCE, AND NATURES GRACE LET ME HAVE MY VENGEACE.”

“I, She of the Sea, Queen of the Purisian Confederacy by law…” Glaring at me, I nodded.

“Do pardon you, Octavian, King of Pirates, of all crimes both maritime and otherwise.”

Octavian threw back his head and howled in laughter.

“HOW DESPERATE, HOW HUMILIATING.”

“WHAT FEAR OF LAW DOES NATURE HAVE? WHAT FEAR OF NOOSE DOES DEATH HAVE? PRAISE BE T’SEA, THAT LET ME HAVE SUCH SATISFYING A JUSTICE FOR KING AND CODE WRONGED!”

He continued his ascent, royals shrieked and cried in terror. I myself sheltered by the podium clutching the keepers hand around my neck. But She of the Sea, where before she had been so anxious, now stood defiant. She even sheathed her sword.

“King of whom?”

“OCTAVIAN, KING OF P…. KING OF PPIR…!”

“Yur a free man now Octavian, Ex-pirate, And your claims t’throne just expired.”

The face of the barnacled monster began to shift.

“Sea ain’t got no interest in ya now. Myaa.”

“NO!”

He staggared, his form deconstructing at its periphery. The creatures of his figure dropping back into the water.

“Sling yur hook ya dead bastard!”

“I AM KING!”

And atop the stairs she turned, grabbed the podium of my refuge, and above her head, slung it t’ward him. Exploding the jilted creature to scattered bilge and seaweed. As the storm fell away, and winds and waves retreated, all that remained of Octavian was Crabs and Cuttlefish.

Daylight shone through the ruined ceiling, clouds dissipated, birdsong began. She of the Sea looked about the place. The Royals still huddled and petrified, Percy stood motionless. and I stood unprotected at her mercy. She slung a purse once more at my chest. And without a word. Fled down the stairs and into the clearing weather.

It took about fifteen minutes for the assembly to regain composure. Percy, snapping out of his trance, Snatched my stash of brandy and ran. I, exhausted by excitement, took a seat upon the stairs and took in the gathering royals.

The Cats of court were all filled with newfound acceptance. Cuddling and rejoicing in their shared experience. Many openly forgave others with which they had quarrelled with for years. Many spoke of a brave new future in which they would all share and develop the nation, so that this kind of hideous witchcraft could never happen again. The conversation began to change to future plans, all voices excitedly talking over each other.

And as they did so the louder voices gained prominence. Machiavelli, who had been so quiet until this dialogue. Subtly ascended a stair to get better projection over the court. Count Thomas rose to counter his argument, slyly slipping another step on the staircase.

In one movement, all the cats of court surged to the top of the stairs, clambering and scrabbling over one another in lieu of the absent Percy. I took good measure to avoid the squabbling felines and watched them all try and reach heights above the rest on the flat platform, some making deals to boost each other in return for favour and gifts.

I left them to it.

That was many many years ago now. To this day i never saw her again, i still operate on Saltskell and the mining ships are largely unmolested by pirates. The Confederacy though shy at first, embraced the tale with gusto. She of the Sea is commemorated in doll and dish throughout the country. Percy didn't manage to retain power, as far as I know he is technically still king. Piracy is still with us, partly legacy to the large scale defection of the fish famine. But the vessel of the pirate queen has not been seen, though i do hear stories of it cropping up in raids on the southern biosphere.

But perhaps we shall meet one more time.

I write this memoir, as once more I have received black envelope with ghastly skull seal. A fleet of black ships sit on the horizon, each at half mast. I feel the final duty i must perform for her majesty, has already been ordained.

#short story #pirates #pirate #pirate fiction #fiction

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