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bump1nthen1ght · 4 years ago

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Deep Blue Sea (Shark Merman x Reader) Chapter 1

Pairing: Gender Neutral! Reader/Shark Merman

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Soulmate AU

Warning: None

Word Count: 2682 words

Summary: You have a chat with your soulmate

Prologue

“So, you want some?”

He takes your stunned silence as no, checking that the crab is fully dead before pulling off a leg and biting the meat inside. His teeth catch the light of the setting sun, glinting white in between chunks of crab.

“So were-”

“Soulmates? Yeah, looks like it.” He, your soulmate, cracks off another leg and begins to chew. You find yourself transfixed watching him, mind reeling with questions. He uses the sharp claws on the tips of his fingers to dig out more meat. You’re not even sure where to begin.

“What do we do know?”

He shrugs, sucking out the last of the crab leg and tossing it aside.

“Dunno, guess this mystery is solved though.” He taps his wrist and you get a closer look at his soulmate mark.

It loosely resembles a human compass, yet alien in it’s design.There’s eight large symbols, none of which you recognize, and the arrow is slightly misshapen before straightening to a point.

“I always assumed my soulmate was in the Atlantic or something, maybe even a selkie. When that thought always drove my ma up the reef.” He sighs, pressing his chin against his palm as he lays against a rock. “Wonder how she’ll take this. Maybe she’ll turn a whole new shade of blue.”

His chuckle is low, rough against your ears, but not entirely unpleasant.

You can see more of his backside as he scoots closer into the tidepool. The first thing you notice is just how big he is, his tail stretching from his hips to the open ocean. The second thing you notice are the defined muscles which stretch and flex along his back.

Okay, what the fuck.

There’s a pressure building in your temples and you think you're beginning to overload. Your fucking soulmates eyes wander, looking nonchalant as can be beforeperking up when he sees another crab. His body slithering away from you to snatch it up snaps you out of shutdown mode.

“Uh, I guess….what’s your name?” He doesn’t take his eyes off his soon to be snack, only humming to acknowledge he even heard you. “I think that’s a good place to start, don’t you?” That at least gets you a chuckle, followed by a tiny crack!

“Cruz, you can call me Cruz.” You make eye contact as he takes a long, languid bite of crab. Your furrow your eyebrows, face unimpressed. He lights up with a mischievous grin.

“Is that your real name?”

“Nope,” Cruz says, popping the p and breaking open a claw, “But I don’t think you could pronounce my name so…..”

The tension in your jaw tights as he turns away from you once more,humming to himself and letting out a soft “Oh!” as the other leg reveals quite a bit of meat. You rub your brow and sigh.

“My names _____”

“Neat.”

In high school, your mom got the yearbook epithet “biggest social butterfly.” Your dad, however, was barely presentable on picture day and a social circle consisting of the three fellow chess-club members. You were a lot like your dad in many ways.

The conversation, to say the least, seemed to float on the water like a dead fish, and you had no idea how to resuscitate it. It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t natural, it wasn’t that missing piece yoru guidance counselor said it would and dammit, it’s kind of pissing you off. You’re pissed off that it’s pissing you off, because when has making first impressions ever been easy for you? Did you think this was going to be different, because what, a stupid mark on your wrist? That has no basis in logic, not even a little bit.

You refuse to dignify any emotions similar to disappointment which begin to well inside you, because it’s ridiculous. You worked hard to get to California, you’ve worked hard your whole damn life, what's stopping you from working now?

“Welp, seems I scared away all the other crabs.” Cruz huffs and places his hands on his...hips? “Been nice chatting _____, but I got dinner to catch.” Cruz looks back at you as he slinks into the water, sending a salute and a wink.

The words bubble up in your chest before you can catch them as he begins to swim away.

“Wait, but, um, I-” Your commands fall clumsily out of your mouth and barely leaves a ripple on the water. Cruz doesn’t turn around.

You feel the heat sizzling up your neck and face as you look at his back. Flashes of him, the arrow, your mom, that stupid guidance counselor paint the inside of your eyelids.

No.

“Will you wait a second!”

The scream barely echoes in the small tidepool, but it’s enough to catch Cruz’s attention. He whips back to you, eyes slightly wide. You realize just how hard you’re breathing.

“I-, just, can you meet me here? Tomorrow?” Cruz's expression stays still, only the slightest bit of confusion crossing his eyes as he raises his brow. “I want to get to know you better.”

“Oh, um, okay.”

….

“What time….. do you want to meet up?” Cruz looks far less mischievous and much more sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck with a clawed hand and looking up at you from under his eyelids.

“How about 5PM?”

Cruz narrows his eyes.

“I don’t know what that means.”

Ah, right, merman.

“About three hours before sunset. I mean, do you know how long an hour-”

“Yes, I know how long an hour is. I’m not a pup.” Cruz rolls his eyes

Well, the sass returns.

The two of you stay in that position for a little too long. You begin to rub your arms as the cold of the sea breeze and your social anxiety slowly come back to you.

“See you tomorrow, I guess.” With a hesitant nod, his black-blue eyes looking pensive, he submerges. Your breath comes back to you in a wave as your soulmate swims into the open ocean.

The walk back to civilization is a blur, the pounding voice in your head drawing out all other noise yet barely making sense itself.

You’re not sure what you expected of the first meeting with your soulmate, but it certainly wasn’t that.

---------

The next day, Cruz is waiting for you at the tidepool by 4:55 PM, shucking an oyster with one of his claws. He looks up as your feet splash into the tidepool. You wave.

“Hey.”

It’s an understatement to say the silence is uncomfortable. You take a beach towel out of your bag and begin to lay it on a large rock. The task helps keep your mind distracted, but you feel Cruz’s eyes burn into your back.

“So, I guess, what are you exactly?” You say, sitting yourself down.

“Merman’s best word I’ve heard you humans use, so that.” Cruz has shifted his focus back on his oyster, which he then downs with one swallow.

“I see, I see. Are all mer-folk as big as you?” That catches Cruz’s attention. A self-satisfied smirk grows on his face as he puffs out his chest.

“Not at all. I’m a Great White and we’re one of the…” Cruz extends his arms art in front of him, flexing his fingers and his biceps in a decidedly braggadocious manner, “bigger species out there.” He finishes his statement with a playful wink. A tiny smile crawls on your face.

Interesting. Male Great Whites are typically around 12 feet, but Cruz is only about 9 feet. I wonder why that is?

“I can see that.” Cruz shifts, ego now lifted, and lays his weight on his right elbow, facing you. “You mentioned a mother, do you have a clan?” Cruz nods.

“Yup. It’s my ma, my dad, my two older sisters, and me. Plus two other families. My ma’s parents were from this reef.”

It’s difficult for you to fight the instinct to whip out your notebook and jot all this down.Your inner scientist screams to pry into the complex social hierarchy and behaviour patterns of this new species. But the more sane part of you knows that would probably be pushing some boundaries.

“Wow, so you’re a true Californian, huh?” Cruz squints his eyes at you. “Uh, that’s where we are. The territory Santa Cruz lies in.”

He gives a low hum, reaching for another oyster nearby. This movement is far more natural than his earlier show, but you still get a full glimpse of his cut shoulder muscle and tight abdominals. It stirs something in you.

Would he have the swimmer’s V? Okay, stop, focus.

“Yeah, I guess I am.” He pries open the oyster, staring at the soft meta inside. “A member of the clan, born and bred.” Cruz brushed the pad of his finger on the shell, his voice holding a quiet bitterness, tinted somber.

Should you comfort him? He’s within touching distance, but the thought of grabbing his hand feels too intimate, soulmate-ship be damned.

Before you can make a move, Cruz throws his head back and gulps down the oyster. He shakes his head and lets out a small “Ah~”, then pushes his short hair back against his skull. Whatever emotion that was there before, it’s gone.

“Where are you from?”

“East Coast, bordering the Atlantic. So you weren’t too far off.”

“Well, I’m not just a pretty face.” Cruz winks at you, but his eye catches a scuttling crab nearby. He gets low in the water, moving slowly to catch it by surprise. You don’t hum the Jaws theme, despite how much you want to.

“No siblings, just me and my parents.” Cruz doesn’t look away, even as he kills the crab.

“Lucky. How big's your clan?” The familiar crack of the shell follows.

“We don’t really,” crack “...have those. Humans can-” crack “We typically live near each other-” crack “but don’t get that-” crack “....close.”

Cruz hums contently, but you can clearly see it’s from the crab and not your one sided conversation. He sucks juice off his fingers. Seems you’ve lost him once again.

I didn’t expect this to be so difficult.

“Have you ever had cooked crab?” Cruz perks immediately, slowly turning back towards you.

Got ‘im.

----------

You return with two warm lobster rolls, a bag of crab legs, and some shrimp scampi. Cruz’s black-blue eyes just peak out of the water, suspicious.

“So these two are lobster, actually, but this,” You shake the crab-bag, “is all crab. I thought I ‘d get you a couple things to sample.”

Cruz’s nose (Is it a nose? There’s a ridge but you’re not sure if the slits count as nostrils. Questions for later.) just breaches the water as you set the crab-bag down and settle on your rock. You grab a couple of legs for yourself before nudging it closer to him. “Have at it, it’s pretty self-explanatory.” You say midst a large bit of your lobster roll. The whole meal was not cheap, so you decided to indulge in this treat as much as you can. You’ve had a stressful couple of days.

Cruz slowly approaches the plastic, snatching it up quickly before looking inside it. His eyes widen and there's a small smile on his lips as he pulls a long leg out. His smile only grows bigger.

“Oh, also!” You clap, pointing towards the bag and jolting Cruz out of his food-induced joy. “There’s sauce, garlic butter, shit like that in those little plastic containers at the bottom. You dip the crab meat in them.” You take another large bit of lobster roll and hear Cruz break into a crab leg. Cruz gets his mouth ready to take a big bite before pausing. His eyes flit between the lef and the garlic butter, before he slowly pulls the lid off and dips the meat in. Cruz then takes the tiniest bite possible.

His eyes, black as they are, light up. He quickly takes another, larger bite. It’s quite adorable, like a baby trying ice cream for the first time. Cruz devours the leg quickly before snapping into another sauce.

“You like it?” Cruz nods, cheeks stuffed with crab meat as you giggle.

“What kind of craf is fiss?”

“Dungeness. That’s commonly eaten by humans. They’ve got some of the highest meat value and they're all over the West Coast.” Cruz nods, though you’re not sure he understands parts of your sentence. “They’re also pretty sustainable to fish, although ocean acidity is kinda fucking with their babies. It’s also been fucking with Red King Crabs, which sucks because their only found in like, four places and are so beautiful and also sustainable and-” Cruz has stopped eating and is staring at you. After a big, long breath in you realize how fast you were talking. You feel the what of your blush on the base of your neck. “Sorry, I’ll let you eat. I just...really like crustaceans. A Lot of aquatic animals, but crabs especially are… I’m doing it again. Sorry.” You take a large bite so you won’t have to talk for a couple of seconds, avoiding eye contact with Cruz. You’re sure your chest and arms are bright red; It’s an embarrassing symptom of when you get too excited.

Cruz just keeps staring at you. Frankly it’s the longest he's looked at you and not a nearby snack. You chew the slowest you possibly can, the brioche bun becoming mush in your mouth, to fill the silence.

You don’t see it, but a small smile widens on his face. He picks at his empty crab shell.

“I think those facts are crab-tastic.”

You immediately choke on a bit of lobster roll, pounding your chest as you sputter between mouthfuls. When your eyes stop watering, you see Cruz has moved closer to you, hand outstretched and a couple inches from resting on your calf. He jerks it back when you look down at him.

“Wow, thanks, but puns aren’t really part of my vocrabulary.” You obnoxiously wink, scrunching up the left side of your face. Cruz laughs. Not a chuckle, but a full, belly laugh.

“Well I find them quite crab-tivating.” A larger laugh bursts from your chest as he mimics your wink and shoots you another big smile.

The sharp teeth are beginning to grow on you, adding to Cruz’s boyish charm. You feel the hot blush in your chest crawl up your neck once more.

Oh fuck.

Cruz reaches for another crab leg but hits the bottom of the bag, a playful pout now on his chin.

“Here, try this next.” You hand him the second lobster roll. “Probably don’t want to get this one wet, it’ll be soggy.” With no hesitation Cruz digs in, perking up once more and going to town. His teeth serate through the bread like butter. Within 4 bites, the entire roll is gone.

“Dang, I’ll make sure to bring some more food next time.”Cruz pauses, mid-lick of the butter on his claws and looks up at you.

“Next time? You want to meet up again?” You raise your eyebrow.

“Well yeah, don’t you?”

Cruz stays quiet, no sassy comment or a sarcastic look. Just staring, mildly shocked.

Your embarrassment bubbles back, screaming you’ve misread this whole situation and the last few minutes. “I mean, we are soulmates. Shouldn’t we meet up again?”

Cruz's eyes narrow as a barrage of thoughts seem to flit across his head. His smile recedes back into a straight line, that little spark leaving his eye.

“Yeah, I guess we have too.” He crinkles up the plastic bag, shoving it against your calves. “See you tomorrow.”

A pit rolls in your stomach as he quickly moves to leave.

Did I say something wrong?

“Uh, I’m actually busy tomorrow. Can we do Thursday-er, 3 days from now?” Cruz nods, not turning around to face you before slipping back into the water and swimming away.

The pit doesn’t leave your stomach, an empty sauce container rolling across the rocky shore.

What just happened?

#my writing #monster romance #reader insert #monster x reader #merman #shark merman #merman x reader

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squeeneyart · 3 years ago

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Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 25

AO3

Beta reader as always is @thesnadger

Nothing to do but talk.

Martin and Jon settle in for a movie night.

The documentary, if it could be called that, was absolute bunk.

Littered throughout were vague interviews and wild assumptions on the part of the very on-screen director, all tied together with a final push for people to purchase a very specific brand of smoke detector. And the low quality of the video couldn’t be blamed solely on Martin’s internet.

They watched the thing from start to finish, though, and by the end of its 70-minute runtime (“I should’ve guessed by how short it was,” Jon had grumbled partway through) their viewing had turned primarily to Jon taking the piss out of it. Academically, of course.

On Martin’s end the film itself was bad in an enjoyable way, and while he didn’t have the context for all of Jon’s complaints it was easy for him to listen. He’d even made some jokes that got Jon to snort.

He did have to sit uncomfortably straight to keep from leaning against each other. Jon had turned it a bit so they could both see, but when viewed from too hard an angle the picture looked even worse. So, Martin did his best to give Jon space and not let the effort distract him from the screen.

All of this being true, Martin was grateful for the horrible film. Nothing filled silence better than movies and television, so the nights following they settled into a routine. Someone would make dinner (with no further… outbursts) and then they would find something to watch. Afterwards they would say goodnight and Martin would escape upstairs to decompress with his little notebook.

Jon’s original idea had been to find something related to their goals. However, after another let down on night two involving a very old retrospective on the mid-century fishing industry (“Wrong century,” Martin had said about five minutes in), Jon dropped the idea, thus opening up a whole new world of cable television and old vhs tapes on night three.

“You bought yourself a laptop but never had a dvd player?” Jon yawned, getting comfortable on his side of the couch.

“We sort of… skipped it?” Martin dug through a box of tapes for something worth watching, sifting through sappier options and 80s action flicks alike. “Dunno how, but we never got one. The laptop ended up being the first thing I ever had to play dvds, but the telly is too old to be hooked up to it. S’fine, though. I like tapes.”

“And you never get bored of it? Flipping between tapes and whatever’s on at a given time?”

Martin rolled his eyes. “I have a phone for other stuff, obviously. To be honest I don’t watch a lot to begin with, nothing new anyway.”

“Hmph. Same for me,” Jon conceded, sinking further into the couch. “Feels like there are other things I could be doing.”

“Except for now?”

A wry smile. “Special case.”

Martin’s stomach did a flip. He didn’t feel guilty, per se, but he wished he had something for Jon to work on to stave off the boredom. Everything had been so quiet with Peter gone and Simon’s waiting that no new leads had popped up. It wasn’t fair that Jon had to sit around doing nothing after wandering about in the sea for weeks. The least he could do was provide some entertainment.

“Hm. Right, how about this one?” Martin looked back and waved a vhs set. It was some old fantasy series with a group of children on the cover standing in a hallway. “Haven’t watched it since I was a kid, but I remember liking it.”

“Two tapes’ worth?” Jon glanced up at the ceiling. “It’s in episodes, right?”

“Yeah, though if you’d rather find something else…?”

Jon waved his hand. "No, I can’t spend the whole evening making up my mind. If we don’t like it, then we can find something else.”

With that settled Martin popped the tape in and took up his seat. On the other end, Jon sat with the blanket pulled to his chest. He wore a new set of pyjamas Martin had picked up at the shop along with a few other things to save Jon from having to wear the same clothes day and night.

The show was a simple series meant for children, easy enough to follow in plot that some side chatter didn’t interrupt things too much. Honestly, Martin was glad they weren’t paying a whole lot of attention. He hadn’t watched it in years and wasn’t looking to be embarrassed.

A few minutes in, the children from the cover were running up the stairs to explore a large house. “Safe to assume you don’t have siblings?” Jon asked.

“Hm? Oh, no, it’s just me. You?”

He snorted. “Even if my grandmother wanted another child running around, I was enough to deal with.”

Martin raised an eyebrow. “What, were you a terror?”

“I’d use the word ‘adventurous’, but she would’ve agreed with that description. If we’d been in that house,” Jon gestured toward the screen, “she would’ve been in trouble. Until it ate me or something.”

“I don’t think that’s how it goes?”

Jon frowned. “That’s- No, I mean if it were real it would probably mean harm. Supernatural houses aren’t trustworthy entities outside of fiction. In fiction they’re mischievous at the least.”

“Can’t imagine that, a building that likes to mess with you,” Martin said, grimacing. He really didn’t remember much about this story. Maybe that was how it went? “I’m sure they’ll be fine. I wasn’t into spooky things back then.”

“I’ll take your word for it, but I’m not letting my guard down,” Jon said. He watched as the children walked up a spiral staircase. “Would you have wanted siblings?”

Martin considered this. “I can’t imagine having them? But an older sibling would’ve been nice. Someone to know better and help me with things.”

“I think any other child would’ve found me irritating, older or younger. Best to keep to myself,” Jon said dryly. “Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yes, you can imagine the additional worry of raising a child who could explore the ocean like it was the woods. It’s not like she could follow me in.”

“I bet… She wasn’t like you, then?”

Turning back to the television, Jon said, “No. She was from my father’s side.”

“Oh.” He couldn’t tell if the question was wrong to ask, so looked back to the show. It was luck of the draw, then, whether someone was born with a selkie skin. Perhaps there was nothing to do with genetics in circumstances like this.

Back on the screen, one of the children had chosen to wander outside into the beginnings of a snowstorm with no thought to the cold. Outside the real world window it had begun to hail, and Martin realized how frigid it had become both outdoors and in.

“Well, at least this story is right for the season,” Martin said, standing up. “I’m gonna grab another blanket.”

With a start, Jon looked at him and held up the one he was under. “Do you want this one? I don’t-”

“N-no, that’s fine!” He walked briskly out of the room, feeling rude and stupid. All Jon had offered was for him to use the damned thing, not share it. And it wouldn’t have fit both of them even if he had meant it that way!

Opening the hall closet, he tried to calm down. He peered at the pile of folded sheets and blankets, lifting each layer to search for one he liked. There was a flannel one somewhere, deceptively warm for how thin it was-

Oh.

Tucked far down into the pile, far back enough so it was hidden if the one above wasn’t lifted, Martin saw something dappled and grey and out of place amongst the linen. Jon had left it to dry completely beforehand, so the surrounding fabric was unwrinkled. Considerate. And in a decent hiding place all things considered. It was a shame Martin had gone and ruined it.

He sighed, grabbing one of the blankets at the top that he’d initially passed on. Once he reached the doorway to the living room, he stopped and stared at Jon who was doing his best to seem unperturbed.

“So, I saw it,” he started, squeezing the blanket in his arms into his chest. “I use that closet a lot, if you want to put it somewhere else.”

Jon winced and stood. As Martin let him pass, he mumbled, “Right. I’ll just-”

And then Martin was left to sit back on the couch and wait, pausing the tape out of courtesy.

When the skin had disappeared from the shower that first morning he hadn’t considered anything but Jon hiding it, and there was an awful satisfaction in knowing he was right. He rubbed his arm and stared at the blanket in his lap, still neat and folded.

After a couple of minutes, Jon returned empty handed and resumed his seat. Pulling his blanket back up, he said, “It’s nothing… personal.”

“I know.” He took a deep breath and pressed play on the old remote, letting the child continue their new solo adventure. “I figured you hid it.”

“I appreciate that you told me.” His voice was stilted and unsure. “That you found it.”

“Sure, whatever helps.” Unfolding the blanket, he pulled it up to his shoulders and leaned on the arm rest. He could feel Jon fidgeting in place, turning the blanket so it faced the right way and making it tuck under him in the right places. Martin kept his eyes ahead.

Finally giving up on any further adjustments, Jon slouched into place. “It does help. I know my caution can come off as distrust, but genuinely I just… I need to keep it hidden. I need to know where it is and to be the only one who does. For now.”

“You… don’t need to justify anything.” Martin sighed and had to fight back a yawn. “It’s your coat.”

A grunt of frustration. “No, you don’t- It’s not a rational thing. I trusted you enough to tell you the truth, and yet I was barely into my first night here before I panicked and stowed it away.” He sat upright and let the blanket fall to his lap, quiet distress written across the lines of his forehead.

Grasping for words, Martin said, “You still haven’t known me that long. It’s not wrong to be careful.”

“That’s not the point,” Jon replied quietly, resting elbows on knees. “It hasn’t been all that long in the grand scheme of things, but a lot has happened. I consider you a friend. And yet I can’t stop feeling like everything is about to go wrong if I’m not careful.”

The hail continued to slam against the window, almost overpowering the sound of the television and the faun describing the witch’s plans. On the far side of the couch, Jon remained hunched over his own knees with his face bent in irritation.

A wave of shame broke against him, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it. Carefully, Martin scooted over just enough to reach out a hand. His trembling fingers hovered just an inch away, brushing against the fabric of Jon’s shirt before coming to rest on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Jon whispered, massaging around his eyes with his fingers. He reached his free hand up to tentatively cover Martin’s, giving it a tiny squeeze. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Do you… want to keep watching?”

Jon nodded, shaking himself out a little. Martin released the gentle grip on his shoulder, though he didn’t move away. They both settled into the back of the couch and watched.

The child had gone back inside with the shivers, but no one was to be found. Around the halls she wandered, calling her siblings’ names with indignation that slowly turned to concern and then to fear. Eventually she was running, and it wasn’t until she was on the upper floor that one of her brothers popped out to scare the living daylights out of her.

Deep down he remembered this part making him cry. Perhaps siblings weren’t worth it with how cruel children could be.

Martin coughed. “You explored the sea as a kid, then?”

Jumping slightly, Jon said, “O-only a couple of times. And not far from the land. And it’s not as fun when you can only grab one thing at a time, with your mouth. I sorely missed my pockets and picking up sticks.” As he spoke, he resumed the more casual tone from before with modest success.

“You thought checking out the sea with no real limits was too much of a hassle?”

With a roll of his eyes, Jon said, “It wasn’t entirely that. Eventually my grandmother warned me away from it. Told me about dangerous animals that absolutely weren’t native to the coast where we lived.”

“Great white sharks?”

“Surrounding our seaside village on every watery side, ready to eat hapless little seal boys who didn’t listen to their nans.”

Martin chuckled, relaxing further into his seat and listening to Jon go on about all the ways his grandmother had tried and failed to reign him in. He could see it, a younger, scrappier version of the man next to him stomping around the woods and climbing fences.

The instinct wasn’t all that relatable to someone like Martin who’d kept to the front porch on nice days, but it sounded like an adventure. Maybe it meant he was less likely to get eaten by an evil wardrobe out of the two of them. In his position he could only hope that was the case.

They called it for the night when, out of nowhere, a man suddenly appeared at half opacity screen and let out a screeching noise to close out an episode, making Jon laugh in a way that only could’ve been from exhaustion.

Martin lingered downstairs for a while after they shut the television off. It was Friday, after all. For many reasons they couldn’t go out to a pub, but without the need to get up early he could afford to stay up a little longer and listen to a sleepy Jon talk over the tapping on the window panes.

Tim: not next weekend, but the one after i think. finally time to call it on preparation and get down to business, if this is something we can be prepared for

Martin: encouraging

Tim: look its been rough over here, alright?

Martin: i know, sorry. itll be easier to talk once we’re all in one place

Tim: yeah

Tim: things are ok over there, then? youre sounding better

Martin: ?

Tim: it was starting to get scary if im honest, how quiet you were

Martin: oh, sorry. things are fine, just didnt have a lot to say

Tim: yeah, i get it. its hard to fill the space. dont be a stranger though. in a few weeks we’ll be there to get you out of this mess

Martin: looking forward to it

Sighing, Martin looked from the private chat to Jon, who was ignoring his breakfast to type away at the laptop. “Sounds like the others are making plans to get here.”

Jon looked up briefly. “Good. It will be… nice to see them.”

“And show them you’re not dead?”

Ignoring this, Jon said, “How is Tim doing?”

He glanced back at his phone. “Worried. About a lot of things, I think.”

“Thinking of how he’s going to break my disappearance to you, no doubt,” he said, taking a sip of his tea. He avoided Martin’s eyes. “That’ll be resolved soon enough.”

Martin poked at the eggs on his plate. “He… lost someone, didn’t he?”

It was only for a moment, but Jon froze in the middle of setting his mug down. He seemed to struggle with an answer.

“It’s fine if you can’t say, but he implied as much,” Martin said gently.

With a frown, Jon shut the laptop. “Sasha knows more than I do, but yes. His brother, a few years ago.”

“Oh. That’s… really sad.” He leaned back in his chair. “He seems like he’d be a good brother.”

“I’m sure he was. He certainly looks out for us.” Jon took a bite of his toast.

“As best as he can,” Martin added sheepishly.

“Once this is all finished he’s earned a vacation.”

Yes, they’d all given poor Tim their share of heart attacks. Martin had managed to several times in the last month. But at least when the time came Tim would see that both of them were alive and themselves and able to apologize for making his and Sasha’s lives just a bit harder than they needed to be.

Once it was all finished.

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #timothy stoker #peter lukas #jonmartin #selkie au

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crystalninjaphoenix · 4 years ago

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MerMay 2021 Day Six History Lesson

“You ever notice how all the cool shells are always far out at sea?” Muirin picked up a scallop and turned it over in his hands. “Like, the ones that make it to the shore are always small or broken.”

“It’s because of the waves and stuff,” Sereia said, peeking into a rock crevice to see if there was anything inside. “They like...break them up. Friction.”

“Are you sure you can carry all that, Muirin?” Chase called from where he was laying on the ocean floor nearby. “You didn’t bring a bag, did you?”

“I got it, we’re not too far out,” Muirin said.

Sereia rolled her eyes. “All the kids at school are gonna be sooo jealous of your seashell collection.”

“Hey, you never know.” Muirin grabbed another shell. “Look at this one, it’s like a uhhh...turret shell, I think. You know, in the old days, before they had money, they’d trade shells for stuff.”

“Not sure how accurate that is,” Sereia mumbled. “I’m pretty sure, like ancient Greece had money. Like coins and stuff. Right, Dad?”

“Huh? Uh...” Chase flicked his tail. “Greece is that...that place with the pyramids, right?”

“No, that’s Egypt,” Muirin said. “Ser, I don’t think merms are gonna know stuff about human history. Much less if ancient Greece had coins or not.”

“But Dad went to human school, right?” Sereia looked over at Chase.

“Well, I went to one year of human school,” Chase explained. “And I wasn’t very good at it, probably because I was missing a lot of background knowledge. Math and history were probably my worst, but biology was neat, even though I had trouble understanding. I liked art. Painting was fun.”

“Oh! Hey, I have an idea.” Sereia swam over to Chase, turning upside down to look at him. “Can you tell us some merm history? Can you, huh huh?”

“I thought you hated school, Ser,” Muirin teased.

Sereia stuck her tongue out at him. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like finding out new things. I just don’t like tests. And mermaid stuff is cool.”

“Hmm...” Chase considered this for a moment. “Well, there’s a lot of history, some of which I don’t even know, but I could give you guys some basics, if you want.”

In unison, Sereia and Muirin swam over to the patch of sand Chase was resting on and settled down, lying on their stomachs with their heads in their hands in identical positions. They briefly looked at each other and giggled before going quiet.

Chase smiled. “Alright, then. If you’re so eager.” That caused a few more giggles. Chase couldn’t help but laugh, too, then adjusted his position to be more upright. “Okay. So...where to start? I’m gonna assume a lot of early human history and early merm history is pretty similar, like the bits about hunting food but then learning to farm and making civilizations. Is that right?” Sereia didn’t answer, but Muirin nodded. “Alright. So, in that case, merm history from there is divided into four eras: ancient, monarchy, shipwreck, and modern. The lines between these eras are kinda blurry but they’re just really general outlines. Ancient is the oldest, of course. Those were when the first civilizations started to get really big.”

“Oh! Mesopotamia is the oldest human civilization,” Muirin said proudly. “It’s 6000 years old. We learned about that this year. It made the first writing system!”

“Six thousand? Wow. That’s pretty old.” Chase whistled, impressed. “I’m pretty sure the first merm civilizations are around that old, too. But don’t take my word for it, it’s been forever since I learned the exact dates and names. I do know that the first merm alphabets were around that time, too. But you see, humans kinda kept up with all their different languages; that’s not the case for merms. Ancient times were just about the only time period where merms all spoke differently. They were also when we interacted the most with other water races, like sirens and selkies and merrows and—”

“Those guys are all myths!” Sereia said excitedly. “So they’re real?! Does that mean other fantasy creatures are real, too?! Like on land?”

Chase shrugged, adjusting his cap. “I don’t know anything about land. But I do know that a lot of ancient water races eventually merged together into what merms are today. A lot of families have traditions from those different roots, but some might have different ancestors and not even know it.”

“Okay, so after the ancient era came the monarchy era, right?” Muirin prodded. “What was that?”

“Ah. Well, a lot of merms might call that the golden era, because we did pretty well back then. There were all these cities being built, people made and wrote down history and stories in books, art and politics happened...lots of stuff. It was called the monarchy era because a lot of...what’s a good word...a lot of countries were created and grew bigger, ruled by monarchies.”

“Like feudal kingdoms?” Muirin asked. “Like, where there was a king in charge, who had lords, who were in charge of knights, who were in charge of serfs?”

“Uh...I think there were some like that, yeah,” Chase frowned. “But there were a lot of other monarchies under different systems, too. This is just the basics, though, and quite honestly, it’s been a while since I learned about monarchy systems anyway, so we’ll just leave it at that.”

“Okay, so what’s with the shipwrecks, then?” Sereia asked, flicking her tail excitedly. “Was that when mermaids would draw pirates to rocks and stuff?!”

Chase hissed inwardly, trying to think of a way to describe it. “Okay so...you had all these cities and kingdoms under the monarchy era, right? Well, a lot of merms weren’t happy with how things were, so they revolted against the rulers. The old monarchies didn’t go away for a while, but there were all these new systems as well, and the countries were a lot smaller, but there were more of them. You know, something I thought was interesting in how different humans were from merms, was that you just...stayed in cities. And actually, your cities got bigger. It was kind of the reverse for us. We all started spreading out, and some groups went back to wandering and hunting.”

“So why’s it called the shipwreck era?!” Sereia repeated insistently.

“Because there were a lot of shipwrecks,” Chase explained. “Just like you guessed, merms would draw a lot of human ships and make them wreck, so they could take the things inside. That’s when merms with siren blood made the best use of their powers.”

“So...merms didn’t like...eat humans or anything?” Sereia asked.

“Sereia!” Muirin gasped.

“What?! That’s what they always say!”

“Humans have a lot of myths about merms that aren’t true,” Chase said patiently. “No, that never happened. All the shipwrecks caused by merms were to get the human-made things on board. You can think of it like pirates, if you want. Stealing and plundering. A lot of trade was raised around human-made items.”

“But merms don’t wreck ships anymore, do they?” Muirin sounded like he definitely didn’t want that question confirmed.

“No, that stopped happening a while ago.” Chase traced an idle pattern in the sand. “That’s when the modern era started. Part of the cause of it was a lot of merms continuing to leave monarchies and even other groups, making more and more smaller sections. And part of the cause was human diving, as humans explored deeper and deeper into the ocean. Any large merm settlements were left behind. Some merms continued to scatter, and some went deeper into the ocean, but I don’t know what’s happened to those groups, if they’re still around. So nowadays, merms tend to be either on their own with their families, or gathered in small schools.”

“Whoa...” Muirin breathed. “It’s like...the apocalypse happened.”

Chase frowned. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“You offended him,” Sereia whisper-shouted, nudging Muirin’s arm.

“No, I wasn’t offended, don’t worry,” Chase assured them. “It’s just that the apocalypse is...well, a bad thing. And things aren’t bad now, and weren’t really that bad once merms started all separating. It’s just a different way of doing things than humans. I mean, I expect you two to look at it in a human way, that’s how you were raised. But it’s not like merms are behind humans or anything. We still do all the things we did before, just all spread out.”

“I think the thing about one language is cool,” Sereia said. “So we’ll be able to talk to any merm anywhere and understand them.”

Chase chuckled. “Well, there might be some differences in the way we speak. Like different accents. You’ve probably already noticed that.”

“Yeah, all your friends talk differently to each other,” Muirin agreed. “Like...Schneep is very different.”

“Well, he’s from a very different area. And Marvin and Jameson are freshwater, so that’s even more different. Heck, they probably have a slightly different history from what I’ve told you.” Chase looked up towards the surface. “Hmm...it’s getting late. Your mom will want you home soon.”

“Aww...okay.” Sereia pushed off the ocean floor and into the water. “C’mon, Muir.”

“H-hang on.” Muirin was having some difficulty gathering up all the shells he wanted to keep. He kept dropping them.

Chase smiled. “Here, use the hat.” He took off his cap and handed it to Muirin. “You can put some in there.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Muirin said, relieved, as he started putting shells inside. “Oh, and thanks for telling us about merm stuff. That was pretty interesting.”

“Come on, you guys!” Sereia performed a flip in the water, clearly ready to move.

“We’re coming, we’re coming!” Chase said. “Don’t you worry, shelly.”

And so, the three of them headed back to the shore.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #chase brody #brigid writes fanfiction #mermay snippets

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chiropteracupola · 3 years ago

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Fic writer tag game

Tagged by @verecunda! wow, thank you!

I’ve been writing fic for some time now, but I only started actually publishing my work online very recently, so many of these answers are going to be quite flat, I’m afraid. Some of them are fun, though, so I’m going to go ahead and do this anyway!

How many works do you have on AO3?

A whole entire ...eight. Which is more than I thought, so that’s something!

What’s your total AO3 word count?

6,610 ...oof.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Out of what’s actually made it to the surface, just Treasure Island and The Terror, although I’ve written for a fair few more which, with all luck, will never ever see the light of day.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Given how little there is to choose from, I’ll just give my top one, which is ‘a coat of sealskin’. Rather to be expected, I think, since it’s for a fandom that isn’t approximately 4.5 people and a block of cheese...

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I don’t usually respond to comments, although I usually mean to, mostly because my conversational skills are sadly lacking and I always feel a bit of a fool. I do stare at them an awful lot, though! If you’ve ever left a comment on anything I’ve written, it’s a guarantee that I’ve spent at least half an hour just Looking at it and Appreciating.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

A little hard to say, since now that I think of it I’ve not really ever come to finishing anything with a properly happy ending, but perhaps ‘silver & lead’?

Do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I’ve considered it a few times, but none of them have ever made it to the paper in any meaningful sort of way. (And I’m a pretty slow writer when I’m actually Considering things, so that’s something that’s more likely to become a drawing instead.)

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, thankfully. Although, as I said, 4.5 people and a block of cheese, so.

Do you write smut? if so what kind?

Nope!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Never yet.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I used to write with friends a lot, but never for fic! I’d definitely be open to it, but I can’t say I’d be much fun or good to write alongside!

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Hm, I don’t really think I have an answer for that one, come to think of it.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Oh, Fitzier selkie story my beloathed... I feel like it would be a really wonderful story but one that needs to carry a lot more Plot and Dialogue than I’m usually able to bring to the table.

What are your writing strengths?

Exposition’s the game, much of the time! I love description, and I think I do it quite well, as well as just general playing around with language to make something I think sounds neat to hear.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue, very much. Anything that hinges on Characters Actually Conversing Properly is an eternal sticking point.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

If it serves a purpose, and it doesn’t interrupt the flow of the writing, I think it’s all well and good, though I don’t do it myself.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Stand Still Stay Silent, although I never did finish any of what I wrote for it. And oh boy oh boy, that’s a world I don’t think I want to revisit in that much depth.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I think ‘nothing but the present story-paper’ is one of the best I’ve done, and I’m very much attached to ‘gone but not forgotten’ as well! Both were very quick to write and were just sort of slap-together-fun-sad-ideas sort of things, which is probably why I still like them so much.

Not quite sure who to tag in this, so if you read this far and you’re interested, consider yourself tagged!

#one of those tag things #wild that apparently I'm a whole writer person now!

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fatesdeepdive · 3 years ago

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Entry 33: Dawn Breaks

No Supports or castle stuff today. It’s time to end things.

Birthright Chapter 27: King Garon

Corrin enters the throne room to fight Garon, who stands up from his throne wielding a massive axe. Garon compliments us for making it so far. When Corrin mentions the deaths of Xander and Elise, Garon calls Xander a pawn, showing no remorse. You know, I like Xander as a villian, but goddamn did he get the short end of the stick in terms of parents to die fighting for.

Corrin attacks Garon, doing no damage. Azura begins singing and Garon grabs her by the throat. What are you doing, stepdad? Garon orders Corrin to stand down, using Azura as a hostage.

Ryoma attempts to negotiate an end to the war and Garon asks Ryoma to hand over all of Hoshido. And also kill himself. Then Garon attacks Ryoma with a fireball. I don’t think Garon’s good at negotiations.

Ranjito, Ryoma’s sword, begins glowing for some reason. Like Fujin Yumi before, it upgrades Yato, this time into a cool curved sword with a white glow. Wielding the new Blazing Yato, which is really OP, Corrin manages to hurt Garon.

This chapter sees us charging through the throne room, taking on an army of tough enemies who my high leveled units cut through like butter. Wait a minute, didn’t we fight Iago in the throne room? Does Garon have two throne rooms? Yeah, that tracks.

Garon has powerful stats, as well as skills that stop criticals and reduce the stats of units who attack him. But also Corrin and Ryoma are really strong and killed him easily.

Then Garon gets back up and trunks into an ugly dragon that demolishes Corrin and shatters Yato. Ryoma and Takumi run in to protect Corrin and also get taken out. Garon attempts to breath fire on the princes and Corrin jumps in front of them, T-Posing to block the attack. Corrin falls over, presumably dead.

Birthright Endgame: Dawn Breaks

The final chapter of Birthright, which has a name that is far too close to that of the fourth Twilight book for my liking, begins with Corrin floating in a black void. She wakes up back at the start of the game, in her bedroom, with Flora and Lilith standing over her, telling her to wake up. Either we’re in hell, or the entire game was a flashforward.

Corrin doesn’t remember anything and acts like everything is fine. Xander and Elise walk in and tell Corrin to wake up. Corrin says she’s happy, as long as everyone is with her. Then she remembers everything bad that happened to her. Xander tells her she can either remain in the afterlife, or go back and fight. Corrin hears echoes of Ryoma and Azura being attacked by Garon and Corrin decides to keep fighting.

All of the units we brought into the final battle shout cheers of encouragement; all of them are nice, but kinda generic, with two exceptions. Yukimura begs for Mikoto to lead Corrin back to the world of the living, which is really nice. And Azama says that Corrin isn’t destined to die for another 72 years and 19 days, which implies he knows exactly when each of my units will die. Which explains a lot.

Overall, this scene is great. It’s blatantly reused from Awakening with less narrative connection, but it’s still good.

Corrin says goodbye to her fallen friends, with scene shifting between the Frost Village, Training Grounds, and Dueling Grounds. Also, now that I think about it, where the fuck is Gunter? Did he have something more important going on? I know that Conquest and Revelations reveal he’s still alive, but I’m pretty sure he’s dead in this story path. Dick.

Corrin awakens, wielding a repaired Blazing Yato. Somehow. The repaired version of Yato, despite having the same stats, can now block Dragon Garon’s attacks. Neat.

We aren’t given an opportunity to head back to Fort Kenshi between chapters, but that’s fine. This battle has us charging through the ruins of the throne room to take out Garon. Again.

At the start of the battle, Azura begins singing her magic song, weakening Garon. LITWAA leads into the final battle theme, which is great. I don’t praise this game’s music enough; all of it is good and this battle theme in particular is amazing. As Garon begins to weaken, he begs for Anankos to give him strength. I wonder if that’ll end up being important.

Garon hits hard enough to one-shot most of our units and has fantastic defensive stats. Unlike the last round, he doesn’t wield an axe, meaning we can’t take him out by abusing the weapon triangle. This battle would genuinely be very hard...on hard mode. On normal I can just bum rush him and end the battle in two turns. Fittingly, Corrin ended up with the final blow.

Garon transforms back into a human and tells us he should have killed us as a child. As he dies, he says that perhaps this is what he wanted all along, the sweet release of death. He mumbles about how he lost his mind and became something, then dissolves into bubbles. Corrin wonders about what Garon’s deal was. Unfortunately, we need to buy some DLC to find out.

Azura faints, having pushed herself too far to stop Garon. Azura says that she can die in peace, knowing that everyone else will be safe. As Azura fades away, she asks Corrin to smile for her, one last time.

I know I compare this game negatively to Awakening a lot, which it definitely deserves, but I’d like to praise it for using its anime cutscenes in the final chapters, something Awakening didn’t. It really helps the dramatic moments hit hard.

Ryoma is crowned king of Hoshido, promising to bring the world into a new age of peace. Ryoma upholds his promise and helps rebuild Nohr with Hoshido’s resources. Everyone cries tears of joy.

Corrin meets with Leo and Camilla, who mourn the deaths of their siblings, and finds out that Leo is now king. Afterwards, she heads to the lake where she met Azura. Azura’s ghost tells Corrin to look into the lake, to find something hidden deep, before disappearing. The final cutscene shows the Hoshidan royals, happy together, meeting at a statue of Mikoto.

The credits roll, giving epilogues for all of our units and showing their battles/kills. I’ll be going through all the epilogues in bulk at the end of Revelations, but I would like to note my top units: Kaze, Silas, Mozu, Ryoma, and surprisingly, Azama. Who had close to 2000 battles because I sent him and Azura alone into a battle to build Support and unlock a Paralogue and just let enemies beat the shit out of him for a while.

As well as my least used units: Selkie, Caeldori, and Rhajat. Which isn’t surprising, considering I used them so rarely that I haven’t even mentioned recruiting them yet. My worst non Paralogue unit was Yukimura, followed by Shura and Izana. My least used actual units were...Sakura and Jakob. Sigh.

Saizo. The unit with the least real battles was Saizo. That’s what I was getting at. Followed by Kaden and Takumi. That’s not to say any of them were bad, Takumi in particular is insanely overpowered; I just didn’t need to feed him kills to keep him useful.

After the credits, the game gave me the option to select a few units to keep and recruit in later playthroughs. I only chose one, my max strength, eight movement Blacksmith: Kenshi. We’ll be seeing him again, eventually.

Closing Thoughts

Replaying Birthright has given me a new appreciation for Fire Emblem Fates. It’s a very flawed game, but to be honest, I had a great time. I’ve focussed on the writing, primarily, but the gameplay in Fates is fantastic. It’s a solid Fire Emblem game and I like Fire Emblem. Hell, things like personal skills, the rebuilt weapon triangle, and fixing pair-up make it a fantastic Fire Emblem game. My only complaint is that it’s a bit easy at times. Part of this stems from me playing Normal/Casual for this blog; I started a Hard/Classic playthrough in my spare time and it fixes most of the issues. The maps, although not as phenomenal as Conquest, are still varied and creative.

And then we have the writing, which is very hit or miss. I’ve explained my problems with this game before (black and white morality, incest, half of the Supports are forgettable), but to be honest, I do enjoy a lot of Birthright’s writing. It’s rarely anything special, but it gets the job done and occasionally has these fantastic moments of drama.

Birthright is a solid game that deserves a spot in the Fire Emblem series. If you haven’t played Fates before, I would recommend playing it.

Now comes Conquest, which has even better gameplay and also...even worse writing. Yay. But first, I’m going to be going through some of the DLC and Paralogues for Birthright.

#fire emblem #fe fates #fe 14 #fire emblem birthright #hoshido #ryoma fe #corrin fe #azura fe #garon fe

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aelowan · 4 years ago

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Special Delivery – A Books of Binding Short Story

Cian woke in the dark to an urgent rapping on his bedroom door. Winter’s low voice carried through the wood. “Cian, we’re on.”

Cian sat up in bed, trying to parse that. On? On what? English wasn’t his first language and sometimes idioms — he hoped it was an idiom — tripped him up. He pulled his jeans on and made his groggy way across the spacious room to find Winter on the other side of his door, dressed in her usual loose dress and cardigan, her purple bag over her shoulder and her surgical bag heavy in her hand. She hadn’t taken the time to put her hip-length white hair up in a bun, and it rode one shoulder in a careless braid.

She was lovely.

He pushed his own long, sleep-tousled hair out of his face. “What are we on?”

A small, exhausted smile played about her lips, and he wanted to kiss her until the shadows under her ice-blue eyes faded away. “’On’ means it’s showtime,” she explained, not terribly effectively. What was a ‘showtime?’ “We have a delivery to attend. Corinne’s started bleeding heavily, and Doc says she can’t stop it.”

Cian’s brows shot to his hairline. The Lion Queen? Oh shit. “Is it the placenta previa? She’s five weeks early.” Which wasn’t too terribly early for a human or a vampire, but with a therian’s five-and-a-half-month gestation it could make things complicated.

Winter nodded. “Which means that either she got pregnant during an earlier heat than we thought, or the placenta’s started pulling away from her uterus, which I think is the more likely. Either way, I suspect we need to deliver the baby tonight. If she’s having contractions it will tear the placenta apart, leading to hemorrhaging. Now, you get dressed, and I’ll wake up Etienne so he can drive you out to Xanadu on the motorcycle. I need you at the top of your game, and making you ride with me in the Bug with its old steel chassis won’t help with that.” She sighed. “I really do need a new car.”

Cian shuddered at the thought of riding in the Bug. He’d ridden in more than one older model vehicle and gotten sick in the process. He was sidhe, though, and not a lesser fae, so sick was the extent of it. A lesser fae might come away with more serious injury or even death. The little pixies in the gardens here on the Point avoided Winter’s vintage car at all costs. “Yeah, a new one would be good. Maybe we can go shopping for one this weekend?”

Winter gave him a tired smile, but tired as she was it still reached her eyes. Cian couldn’t have said that only a few weeks ago. “Yes, maybe.” She checked the time on her phone. “We need to head out as soon as possible. Doc is perfectly capable of performing a c-section if she needs to, but I’d rather be there in case things get complicated. I’ll meet you in the foyer in five minutes.”

Cian shut the door as Winter moved toward Etienne’s room and turned to get ready. It was just the three of them rattling around in this huge house, where once there had been dozens of wizards, all part of the extensive Mulcahy family. He could tell that Winter liked having the company, and he liked it, too. So did Etienne.

Long hair pulled back in a neat ponytail, worn boots and a new sweatshirt against the mid-November chill, his silk-lined riding chaps to protect him from the Harley’s frame, and he was ready to ride as soon as he got his helmet and riding jacket together. Worry for Corinne dueled with excitement. This would be his first time attending a birth. He’d assisted Winter with several surgeries already, but Corinne was the community member closest to delivering and currently the highest-risk pregnancy. She was also one of Winter’s closest friends, and Winter said she felt better knowing he would be backing her up with his healing gift. Cian was happy to help.

Etienne was still putting his auburn hair up into a ponytail in the high style he preferred as he hit the stairs and nodded to Cian. “Get your things. It’s going to be a cold ride, even for you.” His red plaid overshirt was slung about his neck and the new black gun rig for his old Glock jostled lightly against his chest with each stairstep he took.

Cian stood at the bottom of the double staircase beside Winter and watched the faerie knight descend, his bootheels thudding softly on each wide tread. He waved a hand indicating the Glock under Etienne’s left arm. “Expecting trouble?”

Etienne smirked and pulled on the overshirt as he touched down from the last step. “Always. This is Seahaven, after all.”

Winter shook her head and offered a rueful smile but didn’t disagree. “I’ve got the car loaded and ready to go. Be careful out there. The roads might be a bit slick after that rain.”

Etienne’s smile stretched into a rake-hell grin and Cian felt his belly flop. By Dagda, Etienne had a sexy smile. “A little rain isn’t going to stop us. Now, let’s go help Corinne.”

Cian handed Etienne his helmet and his old worn leather coat before getting into his own, new, silk lined coat. Winter’d had it made for him when she’d noticed he was showing about an inch of wrist below the cuff of his old one.

Winter hitched her bag up higher on her shoulder, determination showing in her eyes. “Okay, let’s do this.”

The rain had subsided to a sprinkle, which did nothing for making the ride out to Xanadu any safer. Etienne sat a little higher in his seat, vigilant, and managed to avoid most of the puddles.

Most.

Cian tried to ignore his cold, wet boots as the three of them pulled into the covered Xanadu employee parking lot, Winter leading the way in her yellow Bug. They were met at the back entrance to the primary hotel that crowned the largest island in the resort complex. Corinne owned all of the islands in Eriksson Bay, and employed both the dolphins and the selkies as well as her entire large pride of lions. Scores of humans worked in the park, too, but they were offered only limited access. No need for some curious teenager to die just because they got a peek behind the Veil of Secrecy.

Santiago, Corinne’s husband, mate, and Chief of Security, waved as they approached the private elevator. Worry etched deep lines into his brow, cutting into his light brown skin. Cian noticed that he’d shaved his head, but it was already showing fine stubble with the force of his therian regeneration. “Winter, thank god you’re here.” His English was flavored with rich Cuban Spanish, as were most of the lions he had brought with him from Miami to merge with Corinne’s lioness-heavy pride.

Winter offered up a confident smile and gave the Lion King a quick hug. “It’ll be all right. I can get little Bella out in under a minute if I need to.”

Cian knew that Winter’d had to perform emergency c-sections in the past and knew what she was doing. Therian couldn’t get sick or infected, but they could develop conditions that put a pregnancy at risk, like Corinne’s placenta previa. Most therian lived on the edge of society, victims of poverty, abuse, and malnutrition. Pregnancy loss and high infant mortality were common.

But that wasn’t a concern with Corinne tonight. The Lion Queen led one of the biggest groups in Seahaven and was one of the most powerful and wealthiest therian on the West Coast.

Santiago ushered the three of them into the elevator and swiped his resort ID through the reader, granting them access to the private floors and the penthouse where the pride lived. “Doc says Corinne and the baby are both holding steady, even with the blood loss. She’s got both of them on monitors.”

Winter looked to Cian. “With heavy bleeding, what is keeping Corinne and Bella stable?”

Cian thought about that for a moment. “It’s Corinne. She’s strong enough that her healing ability is regenerating blood before she can lose too much, so Bella isn’t being stressed.” He paused. “Yet. There’s a limit to how long her body can heal itself and maintain the baby at the same time. She’s burning through an incredible amount of calories, and once she’s depleted, she’ll be vulnerable.”

Winter smiled her approval. “Excellent. You’re picking this up quickly.”

Etienne looked pleased but said nothing.

Santiago listened intently, tension singing across the backs of his hands, stress making his dark-eyed gaze intense. “But you can save her — save them — can’t you, Winter?”

Winter exuded confidence even as Cian could feel her exhaustion through the veil of his healing gift. “I’m here to fight. We’ll get Corinne through this.”

They exited the elevator one floor below the penthouse where Corinne and Santiago lived and travelled at a brisk pace past closed doors and the soft sounds of sleeping lions until Santiago pushed open a set of frosted glass doors at the end of the hall.

Doctor Gloria Park’s domain.

Glass, chrome, and bright lights, the small clinic and surgery suite gleamed like a shrine to modern medicine. Winter’s backroom clinic was smaller and homier — and a lot busier — but Cian could tell by the way she glanced around that Winter admired it and all of the shiny toys Doc had to play with.

Cian had to admit that he did, too.

“Doc, they’re here.” Santiago raised his voice just enough to be heard on the other side of the two frosted glass doors that bracketed the main room of the clinic.

Doc emerged from the door on the right, butting it open with a hip, her gloved hands marked by blood and ruddy betadine. A bloody streak smeared wet across her white coat at the waist, but she ignored it. She flashed a quick smile of greeting at the new arrivals, her slightly hooded eyes crinkling at the corners and tugging at her small epicanthal folds, her short, no-nonsense, black hair tucked beneath a surgery bonnet. “Excellent timing. I’m prepping Corinne now. How do you want to do this?”

Winter took her surgery bag from Etienne and began moving toward the surgery suite. “I think we should first administer my painkiller potion, and then once it kicks in, we can take a closer look.” She gestured to the blood on Doc’s coat and hands. “Is that all hers?” In any place other than Seahaven that might have been an odd question, but Cian was quickly learning that chaos seemed to reign above all, here.

Doc made a short shrugging gesture. “This time, yes. Contractions started about an hour ago.”

Winter nodded, all business. “Then we’ve got no time to waste. Santiago, do you want to come in and keep Corinne company?”

Santiago smiled, visibly relieved. “Si. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Etienne crossed his arms and leaned a hip against a table. “I’ll wait out here. Haven’t attended a birth in a while, but I bet it’s going to be crowded enough in there as it is.”

Winter flashed the faerie knight a warm smile of gratitude and pushed through the door, Cian close behind her, Doc and Santiago bringing up the rear.

The surgery suite was small, but airy and brightly lit. Corinne sat reclined in the center of the room, gravid belly painted a lurid yellow-red with betadine, long red hair tucked into a surgery bonnet to keep it out of the way, full lips looking pale. Even still, she was glamorous. She opened her eyes as they entered the room, and she smiled a tired smile. “Hey there.”

Winter returned the smile with one of her own as she pulled out a surgery bonnet for herself and passed another to Cian. “Ready to have a baby tonight?”

Corinne chuckled softly and reached out for Santiago’s hand as he reached her side. “You have no idea. But someday you will.”

Winter’s smile turned a bit wistful. “Maybe.” Cian wanted to hold her, just for a moment. He knew she expected to die young, like the rest of the Mulcahy line. She was the last.

Cian found a chair and brought it to Santiago so he could sit at Corinne’s head.

Santiago took the seat and stroked Corinne’s forehead. “Mi corazón.”

Winter tucked her long braid into the surgery bonnet and Cian followed suit. “This is going to go very fast. Your contractions tore the placenta and that’s what’s causing the bleeding. It’s still a total occlusion, still entirely blocking the cervix, as we saw on the ultrasound during your checkup last week.”

Corinne gave a single nod, exhaustion and worry etched into the corners of her eyes. “Did I do something wrong? She’s so early.”

Winter shook her head no and dug into her surgical bag. “Sometimes babies just come early. Nobody’s at fault.” She looked at the monitors showing both Corinne and the baby’s vitals and Cian followed her gaze. Both were holding steady so far. “But Bella’s at a good weight. She should be fine. And your strength is keeping her that way. But I still want to get her out with all speed. We need your bleeding to stop.” As she spoke, she pulled a tumbler from the bag, filled it with cool water, and added three drops of light blue potion, drops that never quite mixed in, instead swirling about like whisps of metallic smoke. “Here, drink all of this down as fast as you can.”

Corinne took the tumbler and knocked it back, then locked her jaw as her entire body shuddered. “Good lord, what was that?”

Winter retrieved the tumbler before it ended up on the floor. “Painkiller potion. It will last for a few hours. It also gives us the ability to go in after little Bella without you feeling any pain and without giving you enough human anesthetic to knock out the Fifth Fleet.” Cian knew from Winter’s explanations that therian could burn through human drugs at an alarming rate. Only magical solutions could withstand their incredible metabolisms.

Corinne shuddered one more time, and then leaned back with a sigh and closed her eyes. “Oh. Oh, that’s much better. Thank you.”

Winter gave her friend’s hand a squeeze. “Good. Now let’s meet your daughter and get that bleeding stopped.” She shrugged out of her sweater and pulled a couple of scrub tops out of the surgery bag, handing one over to Cian. “This is going to be pretty straight forward,” she began to explain, mostly to Cian. Doc already knew what she was doing. “Cian, I want you as tech on this so you can get as much experience as possible. You’ll suction the amniotic fluid out of our way, and I’d like you to use your touch healing to tack Corinne back together once we deliver the placenta, so she heals correctly. Corinne is strong enough that she’ll probably heal faster than I can suture her. Doc, if you can keep the incisions open long enough for me to go in and get the baby and the placenta, we can get her delivered in the next few minutes.”

Doc gave a thoughtful look at her queen’s belly and then to the monitors. “I think that’s reasonable. The bassinet’s already warming, so you can just plop the baby in there while you deliver the placenta and we get the bleeding stopped, and then as soon as the umbilical cord stops pulsing, we can cut it.” She cast a grin at Santiago, who was massaging Corinne’s temples. “Feel like cutting the cord?”

A smile spread across Santiago’s handsome face. “Si. I thought that was just a TV thing.”

Doc let out a soft chuckle. “No, it can be a dad thing, too. Bella’s welcome to the world.”

Winter handed Cian a clean absorbent pad, and he replaced the blood-soaked one beneath Corinne, tossing it into the operating room trash with the rest of them. He could only thank Dagda that she was a therian, and a queen. A human would be in dire straits by now.

Doc lifted an electrocautery scalpel from its tray, the steel glinting under the bright lights, a long wire stretching to the base of the machine beside her. “Ready when you are.”

Winter explored Corinne’s belly, feeling out the position of the baby within. “She’s breech, which is normal with placenta previa. First incision down here, across the lower abdomen, and then we very carefully cut into the uterus.”

Doc snorted. “Don’t teach me to suck eggs, kid.”

An amused smile tugged at Winter’s mouth. “Yes, ma’am. Cian, get ready with the suction, please.”

Cian flipped the machine on and held the wand at the ready, tucking himself against Corinne’s side opposite of Santiago so he could both reach and stay out of the way. He’d done this in surgery with Winter before. There had just never been a baby involved. It didn’t make him nervous, though. Winter had faith in him.

Winter shifted just a little to the side to give Doc more room. “All right, let’s do this.”

Doc spread her fingers across Corinne’s lower abdomen, her hands rock-steady, and made the first deft incision, a tiny whiff of smoke rising as she made the long cut, stopping bleeding before it could start, exposing the flesh of Corinne’s uterus. “Get the retractors ready,” Doc murmured to no one in particular.

Winter reached around her and picked up the two steel retractors, looking for all the world like salad tongs to Cian’s mind. He’d used them before, but the first impression was always the lasting one.

Doc carefully centered her scalpel and indicated a small band of muscle just to the side of her hand. “Pay attention to this, Cian.” Her voice was low with concentration. “Corinne is a lioness, and her uterus works a little differently than a human’s. Instead of basically just being nestled in place by the other abdominal structures, it’s held in place at two points, acting as shock absorbers. She’s built to hunt and fight while pregnant.” Doc shifted the position of her scalpel. “We don’t want to cut those, so we’re making a bit of a smaller incision instead.”

Cian nodded, absorbing the lesson. “Will the baby still fit through?”

Doc nodded. “It’ll just be a tighter squeeze, but she’ll be fine.” Doc deftly nicked the edges of the first incision, pushing against Corinne’s healing ability. “Cutting now.” She pierced the uterine wall without hesitation, drawing another long, bloodless, horizontal line across Corinne’s abdomen.

Immediately a tiny foot appeared, pressed against the intact, translucent amniotic sac. Winter smiled as she applied the retractors. “Very nice.”

Doc grinned. “It’s what we do. Ready to catch?”

Winter nodded. “Trade you.”

Doc and Winter traded tools in a dance born out of years of practice. Doc had been Winter’s primary teacher as she learned trauma surgery, after the death of her Aunt Curiosity.

Winter cut into the amniotic sac with a delicate touch, careful of the moving baby beneath. Cian shifted behind her, suctioning fluid as best he could, until Winter slipped her hands inside and began to ease the baby out.

Corinne’s eyes widened. “Oh, that feels weird. How does she look?”

Winter slipped a hand further into Corinne’s uterus, sloshing fluid over her wrists and onto the pad. “Well, all I see right now is her little butt, but her head is coming free… right… now.”

Corinne raised her head, eager for a peek. “Can I see her?”

Winter mopped the tiny baby’s face off with a pad that Cian handed her, suctioned her little nose and mouth, and held her where Corinne and Santiago could see just in time for Bella to raise her first vigorous objections to being pulled from her warm retreat. Winter beamed. “Look what you two did.”

Santiago’s eyes reddened with joy and he kissed Corinne’s cheek. “She has your hair, mi corazón.”

Corinne grinned, unable to take her eyes off the baby. “She’s beautiful. Just beautiful.”

“And messy.” Winter handed Bella off to Cian, who wrapped her in an absorbent pad and carried her to the cozy bassinet. She was so tiny, and so fierce. “Let me finish this with Doc and Cian’s help and then she’s all yours.”

***

If you like this story, check out our other free short fiction and all things Seahaven at https://www.aelowan.com.

#The Books of Binding #therian #lion #wizard #fae #sidhe #childbirth #pregnancy #placenta previa #premature baby #premie #Winter Mulcahy #Cian #Corinne Lyons-de Vera #Santiago de Vera #Doc Gloria Park

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tisfan · 4 years ago

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May I take Your Coat?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25288321 For @livewire28

Bucky is a selkie, headed into the human world to find a potential mate. He has no intention of staying very long... until he does.

Wanda is closing up the tiki bar for the night and wishes this last-minute customer would hurry up and go... until she doesn't.

Inspired by several tumblr posts I’ve seen where the human offers the coat back after knocking it down, or whatever.

Bucky flopped up on shore, scratching his belly over the sand and wending his way up to the rocks. There was a cave there, long since used for such purpose. Human things were stored there, neat and tidy. If he was lucky, the rain barrel would be full and he could take a bit of a bath.

Long gone were the days that a half-dressed, scruffy stranger could walk into a seaside town and not immediately be run out by the local coppers. There were standards. He couldn’t look like a vagabond.

Humans were weird.

Bucky made his way to the cave and then shrugged out of his coat.

It always took him a moment to find his land legs again, and he was glad enough that there weren’t people looking at him. Not even his own kind.

The cave was cool, and well laid out, the earthen floor long since cleared of stone and debris, flat and firm under his feet. A few human style chairs were set around a flat surface. Tabul, Bucky thought was the word, or close enough.

The rain barrel was full and he drew a few buckets into the tub to wash the salt smell from his skin, to scrub out his hair. Things they didn’t really worry about during their day to day lives.

He checked the gift box; trophies from past loves and gifts for new courted mates. Never stolen. Selkies weren’t thieves. Take one, leave one.

A fine string of black pearls, intermixed with a rose pearl every five beads. That should be well enough. Human women preferred jewelry, men preferred weapons. Or gold. There was some of that in the chest, too.

Bucky took his own offering, a handful of pirate treasure that he’d gotten from one of the wrecks nearby. The sea was hard on things from the land, aside from treasure. Eventually, someone would come, check the box. Gather up that which could be crafted. Everyone contributed because the system benefited everyone.

If you wanted a child, or a mate, you went through the cave.

Bucky found clothes there, sealed in a zip locked bag. He knew about those, too. Plastic. It filled the ocean, no matter how much the selkies tried to gather it up and toss it back on the shore. But it kept clothing dry and free from dirt and stains while waiting for someone else to be able to use it.

He dressed. Finger combed out his hair, gently untangling the strands. He looked well enough to pass for a local, he guessed.

Slinging his coat over his arm, Bucky put on loose-fitting shoes -- he hated shoes, all selkie hated shoes, but the humans got mad if you weren’t wearing them.

Stupid human rules.

But it was the only way to be sure.

If a selkie mated with another selkie, they could birth seal pups, which was tolerable, or a selkie, which was ideal. Or a human child, which was not ideal at all.

Humans no longer looked at a child left on the beach or the docks as a blessing. The child would end up in the human foster care, sometimes adopted out, sometimes neglected, but often taken far away from the sea, too far for their parent to find them, so they would never know… until some years, or even generations later, when they had their own child.

Who might be a selkie.

But any selkie who took a human as their mate, the child would be selkie.

For the women, it was easier; come ashore, spend a few days with a relatively tolerable human, come home and have the baby. The only time that went wrong was if the human found and stole the selkie’s coat.

For men--

Well, there were a few options. Selkies weren’t thieves.

But the cost of a child was high; the cost of living a half-life among humans was high.

Many selkie men chose to raise a child not of their blood, help provide for a child with a selkie mate, adopt the offspring.

It wasn’t a bad plan, not really.

But Bucky wanted his own child.

Was that too much to ask?

Wanda sighed as the man walked into her bar. There was no dress code, aside from yes, please wear clothes. It was a beach bar, tiki themed and tacky, but it meant no one expected the floor to be swept. It was almost closing time, though, and she’d already shooed the rest of the locals and tourists out.

“It’s already last call,” she said. “I can get you one drink, and anything that’s left cooked in the kitchen, but that’s all.”

“That will be well enough,” the man said, and he was beautiful, really. Dark, windswept hair that looked like he’d been swimming most of the day. Blue eyes, cleft chin. Cheekbones that would worry the TSA, they were that sharp.

The clothes, not so much. A tourist tee from one of the shops up on the strip and ugly shorts with pineapples on them. Sandals, which wasn’t typical. But he carried a brown silk sport coat tucked over his arm. Gorgeous, almost golden. Glittery, reflecting back the light from the imitation tiki torches. The shop owner didn’t like smoke from real torches, so they had ugly fake electric things. And light up palm trees. It was tacky as shit.

Which meant, at least, her customer mostly matched the decor.

She wished she didn’t have to work the night shift -- she was always cranky during the evening -- but school was in the morning. One of these days, she was just going to collapse. Trying to do two full time gigs, and her side-hustle where she consulted for people doing gardening and helped them lay out and select plants. She barely got any time to breathe. Certainly relaxing was all the way out of the question.

Which didn’t make her the best host to a customer coming in to eat a plate of cold fries and drink a beer.

“Long day in the sun?”

“Something like that,” the man said, sitting down at the bar, moving gingerly. He didn’t look sunburned. Maybe he was just sore. Too much swimming.

“Well, we’re closing soon, so you enjoy your food. Yell if you need something, but I gotta start clean up. I was supposed to have help today, but both the other girls called out,” she said.

“Is there anything I can do to assist?”

Wanda didn’t quite scoff. Like a tourist would want to help do the dishes or put the stools up. “It’s just basic stuff. Put the seats up on the table, rake the floor for trash, empty--”

The man got up, drained his beer, and Wanda half expected him to leave without paying, saying he was going to leave a bad review and would be back to talk to the manager, because honestly that was what she was used to. Tourists were people with money, and most of the time, they were entitled pricks.

Instead, he wiped his mouth on the back of his arm, and then-- got to work putting up the stools.

“Thank you,” Wanda said. She probably shouldn’t let him help; Thaddeus Ross, her boss, would not be pleased with her if something happened to the man. Or even if he complained-- or if someone else complained. But she was so tired, really, what could it hurt, just this once? “My name’s Wanda.”

“Bucky,” the man said.

“Thanks, Bucky,” she said. “If you can do that, I’ll get the kitchen shut down, then take out the trash.”

“Will do, Wanda,” he said, and he stressed her name, like a caress.

She suppressed a shiver, headed into the kitchen. She didn’t have time or energy to worry about some guy.

Loaded the dishes into the industrial washer and started it. Sometimes she wished she had one of those at home. Once the dishes were in the rack, it took about four minutes to clean them. She had to be careful unloading because the dishes would be hot as hell, but it was nice.

And then she’d look at the space it needed and the cost and decide if she needed a plate in four minutes, she could just wash it in the sink.

By the time Wanda came back out to wipe down the bar, Bucky had put all the chairs up except the one he had been using, stacked all the trash bags by the door, and was raking the floor to get up all the random cigarette butts, spare change, and cruft that gathered around the tiki bar.

“Wow,” she said. “Nice job.” She took his plate back into the kitchen and left it by the washer. There was no point unloading the whole thing to wash one plate. Opening shift could get it tomorrow. “Here--” she snagged his jacket, flipped up the last stool, and then offered it to him. “Thanks for your help.”

Bucky reached out his hand tentatively for the jacket, as if he were shocked that she’d touched it. Or given it back. Or something. She couldn’t help petting it. The material was so soft.

But when he reached for it, his fingers brushing the fabric, a jolt of heat, of desire, of-- something passed from her to him and back.

“You-- want to go to one of the all night pancake houses up the way and buy a girl a cup of coffee?” her mouth said before her brain engaged. She never asked anyone on a date, even if she was interested.

“Yes,” Bucky said, and his voice was husky and seductive. “I would like that very much, I think.”

#winterwitch #bucky barnes x wanda maximoff #selkie AU

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ericsonclan · 4 years ago

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Bat Fever

Summary: Violet finds Prisha in her bat form and finds out that she has bat fever.

Read on A03:

Violet walked towards the Ericson High dorms, her tail wagging back and forth lazily as she ascended the stairs. Usually Prisha would be waiting outside the dorms for her on the days they decided to walk to school together. But today she wasn’t outside so Violet figured she’d just go up to her dorm. The werewolf’s eyes scanned the different dorm numbers until she spotted Prisha’s room: 203. Violet’s tail shot back and forth faster when she knocked on the door. She stood there for a minute but Prisha didn’t open the door. Violet knocked on the door again. “Prisha?”

No response. Violet looked at the door, unsure what to do. A small inkling of fear was appearing in her mind. There would be no harm in checking to see if the door was locked or not. She tried the door which turned easily in her hand. “I’m coming in.”Violet opened the door and shut it behind her before looking at Prisha’s room. It was neat and tidy except for a pile of clothes that were on the floor. But where was Prisha? Suddenly the clothes started to squirm, a small noise emitting from their depths. It only took a moment for Violet to put it together. Moving forward, the werewolf pushed aside the clothes to reveal Prisha in her bat form.

Prisha looked up at Violet with her dark brown eyes and gave a happy squeak.

“Prisha, what-” Before Violet could finish the sentence Prisha let out a long sequence of sneezes, shaking her little bat body with such force that she toppled over. Violet’s eyes widened. “Shit, are you sick?”Prisha’s ears twitched and she let out a small squeak in response. That’s right, Prisha couldn’t speak in her bat form. Violet stared at her girlfriend for a second then gently cupped her in her hands. She wasn’t going to risk anything. Violet looked up at the clock on the wall. There was still time before classes started; she could visit the school nurse and not show up late for class. With that thought in mind, the werewolf held Prisha in her arms and ran towards the school. Prisha bounced slightly here and there on the way to school. She studied Violet’s face and saw the worry in her eyes.

Luckily the dorms weren’t that far from the school building so it only took a few minutes to get there. Violet entered the building and started to speed walk down the hall, her eyes searching for the nurse’s office. Fuck, she couldn’t remember where it was. The werewolf continued down one hall after another, her annoyance bubbling within her as well as her worry for Prisha when she spotted the right door. Swinging it open, Violet walked in to see the kentauride humming to herself happily. Her hooves clicked against the tile floor as she checked to make sure she had everything that she would need for the day.

“Ms. Martin.” Violet’s voice caused the kentauride to look up with a warm smile.

“Well hello there, Violet, it’s unusual to see you in here. What can I help you with?”

Violet held out her hands that carefully cradled Prisha’s bat form. “I found Prisha like this and she’s been sneezing a lot. I don’t know shit about vampires so I just thought… Is she sick?”

Ms. Martin saw the worry in Violet’s eyes and gently set down the clipboard in her hand. “There’s no need to worry. She must be dealing with bat fever.”

“Bat fever?” Violet tilted her head to the side, her ears flopping over.

“It’s a sickness that only affects vampires. All it seems to do is force them to stay in their bat form and cause them to sneeze here and there.”

Violet let out a sigh of relief, her tail wagging happily back and forth at the news. “That’s good.” Violet moved Prisha closer to her.

Ms. Martin looked up at the clock. “It’s nearly time for classes. I can make sure Prisha gets back to her dorm so she can rest if you like.” Ms. Martin held out her hands.

“Yeah, I’d appreciate that,” Violet took a step forward and tried to hand over Prisha but she seemed opposed to the idea. The bat clung desperately onto Violet’s hand, giving small warning sounds towards the nurse then looking up at Violet’s with big, sad eyes. “Prisha, I have to go. I have class.” Violet tried once again to pass Prisha over but she refused to budge, moving closer towards the werewolf and clinging onto her clothes.

“It looks like she’s being quite the stubborn bat,” Ms. Martin chuckled at the sight. She turned around and began to rummage through one of the cupboards. “Although I don’t find it odd. Bat fever tends to make vampires act more in line with their animal instincts. They usually feel safer with the person they trust most.” The kentauride held out a small grey pet sling. “I use it sometimes when one of the monsters is in their animal form and is injured. As long as you return it you’re free to use it. I don’t want you to miss class.”

“Thanks, Ms. Martin,” Violet grabbed the sling and with a few arrangements got it in place. Prisha immediately scurried into the protection of the sling and let out a happy squeak. Violet scratched the top of Prisha’s head who gave another appreciative sound as she nuzzled her head against the werewolf’s hand. “I better get going.”

“Alright, have a good day of classes.” Ms. Martin’s voice called out to the werewolf who started to make her way down the hall. She still needed to get her books. Sprinting down the hall to get to her locker, Violet held onto the pet sling to make sure she wasn’t tossing around Prisha in there. With a few twisted rights then left then right again she opened her locker and grabbed her books. Luckily she had been able to get in her seat just as class was starting.

Classes were a bit awkward at first; she had to tell each teacher why she was carrying around her girlfriend in a pet sling. But after hearing the explanation, each teacher was understanding. Her fellow classmates, however, kept looking at Violet with odd expressions before turning back to their notes when a teacher noticed them. Through the first half of the day, Prisha had been fairly quiet. She seemed perfectly content in her little bat sling.

Lunch time arrived and Violet was standing in line at the cafeteria and had gotten her share of chicken nuggets when a realization hit her. Prisha hadn’t eaten all day. She didn’t know where Prisha’s blood pouches were or if she even cared for them in her bat form. Violet’s tail fell flat, her brow furrowed in concentration when suddenly she heard a familiar, friendly voice.

“Hey, Vi,” Brody walked up beside her holding a lunch tray.

“Oh hey, Brody,” Violet mumbled, her mind clearly still focused on the question of Prisha’s food. Brody leaned forward and looked at the pet sling to see what Violet was carrying. Her eyes grew large when she saw Prisha in her bat form giving a small yawn before smacking her mouth. “Is that Prisha?”

“What?” Violet looked over at the selkie then down at her girlfriend. “Oh yeah, she has bat fever. It’s not a big deal, she just stuck in her bat form.” Prisha let out a small faint sneeze. “And she sneezes here and there.”

Brody stared at the bat, her eyes dancing with excitement. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen Prisha in her bat form. She’s so cute.” Brody reached out a finger and brushed the top of the bat’s head. Prisha seemed happy with the gesture, her mouth slightly ajar until she broke out of it and started to scratch against the sling. She must be hungry.

“I’m trying to figure out what the fuck I can feed her,” Violet looked at the different assortments of food. Nothing was really striking her as something a bat could eat.

“Well, I don’t know much about bats but maybe Clem does. She’s over at the table with Louis and Ruby.” Brody motioned over to the table where Louis was retelling a story in the usual overdramatic way he did while the other two listened to his tale.

“Sure, why not,” Violet shrugged and made her way to the table and sat down next to Ruby who gave a warm smile at the werewolf’s presence.

“Hey, Violet,”

“Hey.” Violet mumbled before proceeding to toss some chicken nuggets in her mouth.

“Whatcha got there?” Louis bounced in his seat and leaned over to catch a glimpse.

“Prisha.”

“Prisha?” Clementine raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, she’s stuck in her bat form.” Violet leaned back in her chair and opened up the pet sling more for her friends to see Prisha who looked up at them with a squeak.

“Vampires can get stuck in their bat form?” Clementine looked up at Violet with shocked eyes.

“Apparently,” Violet gave the bat a few more head scratches. “So, Clem, you wouldn't happen to know what bats can eat, do you?”

“Don’t vampires drink blood though?” Louis looked over at the werewolf.

“Yeah, but I don’t know how I can get any for her.”

“Some bats eat fruit, so you can try feeding her that,” Clementine suggested. “Sorry, that’s all I’ve got.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Violet sighed.

“Well then, I’ll go grab some for ya,” Ruby stood up abruptly and made her way over to Brody. The dryad and selkie gathered some fruit slices in a small bowl and brought it over.

“Hey, we got some fruit for Prisha,” Brody set down the bowl in front of the werewolf who took a blueberry and offered it to Prisha. Prisha sniffed it thoroughly, her ears twitching and her eyes studying the fruit before she let out an excited squeak and started to nibble on it. Soon the whole blueberry was in the bat’s mouth. Her tongue shot out every couple of seconds as she struggled to consume the blueberry. When the blueberry was gone, Prisha reached out her arms to receive more. Violet’s tail swayed back and forth energetically, her ears perking up at the fact that fruit seemed to work.

“If it’s alright, can I give Prisha some fruit?” Ruby asked.

“Sure,” Violet took off the sling and wrapped it comfortably around Prisha then placed it on the table. Each person at the table got a turn. The two pieces of fruit that seemed to be the most entertaining to watch Prisha eat in her bat form were banana slices and watermelon. The piece of banana was a tough one to demolish with the bat's limited strength, but after a few attempts the banana had been consumed. The watermelon made Prisha let a happy cry as she bit down. Whenever the watermelon was moved away from her, her nose began to twitch. She would lean her head forward, her mouth desperately trying to capture the sweet and juicy fruit. Lunch flew by in no time and before the young monsters knew it they only had a few minutes left.

“Oh yeah! I forgot to ask why you’re carrying Prisha around,” Louis’ question made everyone look towards the werewolf who was busy readjusting the sling.

“Ms. Martin says that vampires act more on their animal instinct when they have bat fever, but I don’t know. Part of me wonders whether Prsiha wanted me to carry her so she wouldn’t miss classes or whether she really wanted to spend time with me.” Violet looked down at Prisha who gave a small yawn and nuzzled against Violet’s chest before falling asleep.

“Guess there’s only one way to find out. I can carry Prisha for the last class and see whether she’s happy or not.” The frankenstein’s suggestion was met with skeptical looks. “What? Vi has P.E. anyway.” Shit. Louis wasn’t wrong.

“Fine, you can carry Prisha for the last class but you have to be careful.”

“I promise,’ Louis held a hand to his heart which fell off due to the force of his movement. He chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head with his remaining hand then working to reattach his appendage.

“I’ll be in class with him too so it will be fine,” Clementine added. Her words seemed to calm down the werewolf who gave a short nod and got up to go to her next class.

“Be extra careful, Louis,” Violet warned as she helped attach the sling onto the frankenstein’s chest.

Louis gave a confident grin her way. “Have no fear, everything will be fine.”

Violet nodded, her tail slowly wagging back and forth. With one final head scratch for Prisha she left to get ready for P.E.

“You think she’ll stay in the sling?” Clementine asked her boyfriend who seemed overly excited about carrying the pouch.

“Please, I got this. Prisha will totally enjoy History class and before she knows it she’ll be back with Vi.”

Clementine nodded, still not totally convinced by his words but she was too curious to see how things would turn out.

For the majority of the class time everything was going smoothly. Prisha had fallen asleep in the pouch and seemed content. Her ears twitched a bit here and there while her wings wrapped around her body. It was only in the last five minutes when she woke up that things started to go wrong. Prisha had woken up with a happy squeak only for her eyes to widen when she saw Louis was the one carrying her. She began to struggle, trying to get out and fly away to find Violet.

“Prisha, no,” Louis whispered softly down at the sling.

“Louis,” The teacher looked over at the frankenstein with a questioning expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sir,” Louis’ voice cracked while he struggled to keep bat Prisha in the sling. “I just really have to pee.”

“Can it wait?” Lee asked to which Louis shook his head violently.

“Nope, it’s an emergency.”

“Alright then, you can go.” Lee motioned to the door. The frankenstein gave a quick thanks, awkwardly running out of the room. Prisha started to squirm even more, making small screeching sounds.

“Prisha, it's fine. Violet’s just down the-” Louis paused and let out a pained noise. Prisha had bitten on his finger. “Ouch! Now that isn’t nice.” Louis raised up the sling to lock eyes with Prisha who seemed more annoyed than anything. Before he could say anything more the bell rang and soon Louis could see the werewolf running forward, her tail wagging excitedly when she reached him.

“Hey, everything went okay?”

“It did until she bit me.’ Louis held out the finger that had a tiny bite mark.

“She bit you?” Violet’s eyes grew wide. Snatching the sling and taking a moment to secure it around her, she held up Prisha. “That’s not okay, Prisha.”

The bat looked into the werewolf’s eyes and looked sad as it curled up back in the sling.

“Well, I’m guessing that answers the question,” Clementine appeared beside her boyfriend.

“Yeah, I guess it does.” Louis agreed. “Don’t take Prisha away from Violet while in bat form. Lesson learned.”

The trio walked together for a while, the only sound interrupting their conversation the small sneezes that Prisha made. It was quickly decided that it would be best to put Prisha back in her dorm and pick her up for class the next day. With that idea set in stone, Violet said her goodbyes then ran off to drop off her girlfriend. Prisha was especially stubborn and clingy when Violet had gotten to the dorm. But Violet wouldn’t budge on it.“I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?” Violet looked into the bat’s tiny eyes. Prisha squeaked reluctantly and with a few more pats the werewolf left the vampire for the day, unsure how many days bat fever would last.

The next day ran more smoothly besides the occasional sneeze or two during a class. Prisha seemed to be behaving better. Lunch was just as entertaining as yesterday. Ruby and Brody especially seemed to enjoy feeding Prisha fruit. Watching her struggle to dominate and consume the fruit in her mouth was always so cute and fun to watch. It felt like such a short day. The final bell rang and after grabbing her bag, Violet started to make her way out. She wondered if she had time to hang out with Prisha after school. Suddenly her eyes widened.

“Shit,” Violet mumbled to herself. She had totally forgotten that she promised to meet Coach Garcia after class. She looked down at Prisha who looked up at her with a happy expression. Maybe she could take Prisha with her but Coach Garcia was going to talk her through some more techniques that could help her during the full moon. Usually when they spoke they got into some more serious topics. She didn’t want Prisha to have to worry about her and her transformation during the full moon more than she already did.

The werewolf scanned the area, hoping to find someone to look after Prisha for a few minutes when she noticed Sophie busy playing catch with Renata. Renata flung the stick in the air which made the harpy dash upwards, quickly catching it with her talons. Sophie then proceeded to toss the stick for Renata to catch. Violet’s tail whacked against her own legs excitedly. It looked like so much fun, a part of her wanted to join in. Violet shook her head, snapping herself out of that thought, and made her way over to the harpy.“Hey Soph, can you watch Prisha for a bit? There’s somewhere I need to be.”

“Sure!” The harpy took the sling and attached it around her. Prisha looked confused, her eyes darting between the harpy and werewolf.

“Thanks, I’ll be back in a bit,” Violet patted the top of Prisha’s head before dashing off towards the building.

“So Prisha, care to fly for a bit?” Sophie walked forward and looked up at the sky. “It’s a really pretty day today.”

Prisha’s ears twitched and she let out a happy squeak. She seemed into the idea. Sophie smiled down at the bat when all of the sudden her expression changed.

“Oh shit. I totally forgot. I have a date with Marlon today. Renata, can you watch Prisha for a bit?” Sophie looked over at her best friend who gave a thumbs up.

“You can count on me.”

“Thanks,” Sophie handed over Prisha and the sling then made her way down the street towards the meet up spot for her date with her boyfriend.

Renata looked down at Prisha with a mischievous smile. “Wanna chill in my back?”

The bat looked uninterested but that didn’t stop the huldra from tucking Prisha back there. Prisha began to screech and attack the inside of the hole in Renata’s back. Renata laughed as she began to walk around. “Ha ha, that tickles, Prisha.” The bat continued to scratch and bite the huldra’s back but it didn’t seem to make Renata change her mind. “Come on, it seems you don’t A-Prisha-ate this.” The huldra’s tail curled up in the shape of a question mark as she sat down. “Relax, Prisha. Violet just needs some time to herself. So let her enjoy her break. She’s probably worn out from batby-sitting duty.”

Those words affected Prisha. She gave a halfhearted attack before falling over with a small thunk.

After a few minutes Violet reappeared, her ears flopping while she ran. She looked surprised when she only noticed Renata there.

“Renata? Where’s Sophie and Prisha?”

“Oh yeah, Sophie had a date so she let me watch Prisha. She’s in my back,” The huldra’s pointed teeth poked out as she gestured to her back.

The werewolf immediately put the sling back on and gently picked up Prisha who seemed to be in a sad mood. “What the fuck happened to Prisha?” Violet looked over at the huldra.

“I was just talking with her and then she went silent. I didn't know I made her sad. I guess my words backfired. Or you could say batfired.” Renata wiggled her eyebrows playfully, waiting for praise for what she considered a pretty great pun.

“You’re batfired,” Violet snapped back and turned sharply on her heel, leaving the huldra confused by her strong reaction. Violet tried to cheer up Prisha but it seemed like nothing was working. The sky was a warm orange hue, meaning that evening would soon be upon them. The werewolf racked her brain about what to do when an idea popped up in her head. Sneaking into the school, Violet made her way up to the roof just in time for the stars to come out. She pushed open the pet sling and carefully held Prisha in her hands as the two watched the stars for a while.

“Whatever Renata said she’s wrong. You know that, right?” Violet looked down at Prisha who gave a happy squeal as she moved closer to Violet. Violet smiled down at her, her tail wagging slow and steady while she watched the stars with Prisha. A small, cute sneeze escaped Prisha's nose, causing the vampire to shake her head back and forth.

“Bless you,” Violet mumbled and started to scratch the top of the bat’s head. Carefully she placed Prisha on her shoulder which made Prisha happy. She nuzzled gently against the werewolf’s neck. After a while Violet decided it was time to head out and get Prisha back to her room.

Several days passed that tended to be much the same with bat Prisha. It wasn’t a bad thing to be carrying around Prisha and seeing her in her bat form. Violet did think she was pretty cute, but she was missing her talks with Prisha. The small, quiet moments they shared as they walked hand in hand.

As Violet made her way back up to dorm 203, she gave a stifled yawn. She then proceeded to open the door only to be surprised to see Prisha standing there with a warm smile on her face. Violet stared at her girlfriend for a moment before running and wrapping her arms around her. Prisha’s arms slowly returned the gesture and the two stood there enveloped in each other’s embrace.

Happy to be free of bat fever.

#twdg #twdg violet #twdg prisha #twdg privet #twdg louis #twdg renata #twdg sophie #sophie renata brotp #fluff #hijinks and shenanigans #we are monsters we are proud au #fanfic

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danetobelieve · 5 years ago

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One Shell Of A Dinner Party, pt. 1 || Ricky, Skylar and Winston

Winston wasn’t exactly the type to have many people over for dinner. It wasn’t that they weren’t sociable, it was more that they weren’t exactly an outrageously good cook. They could manage most of the basics, and only a fifth of their meals went in the bin, which was much better then it had been before. They even made themselves vegetables and more importantly they ate them. But Ricky was cooking the fish tonight, because as a human seal person AKA a selkie, fish and meat were the things that they mainly ate. They knew what they were doing and they’d do a good job. Winston had handled the sides, though they had deliberately made less then they usually would as they suspected that perhaps they would be the one eating most of it. They weren’t completely certain what Skylar was, but they were a bit too similar to Ricky for it to be a coincidence. Ricky was hard of hearing, so was Skylar. They both had the same teeth and suddenly there was a knock at the door. Adjusting the shirt that they’d chosen to wear, Winston headed to the front door and swung it open to find Syklar. “Uh, hey!” they did their best to sound excited but truly social situations with people made them somewhat nervous and they didn’t want to make things too weird with Skylar, “Thanks for coming… do you want to come in? Can I take your coat?”

Skylar let out a nervous sigh as she stood outside the door, her contribution for dinner wrapped neatly up in some paper and tucked under her arm. She’d decided it would probably be rude to recycle the falling fish that she’d found this morning and went with the ones she had caught herself on the pier. At least she knew where those came from. Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs this was not and, even though she was perfectly okay to test her luck eating one of the sky fish, she didn’t think Winston or Ricky would be as unbothered by it. But, that wasn’t why she was nervous. Being invited over for dinner, by a random man she’d accidentally caught in her fishing line, with the person who’d helped save her from the terrible ghoul in the cave… it was a little weird. But, as far as she could tell, that was small town hospitality? When in Rome… “C’mon, just knock on the door-- okay.” She mumbled to herself before rapping the door with her knuckles. When Winston appeared, she smiled, her nerves probably evident on her face. “Um, hi! Thanks for having me. I come bearing gifts of fish?” She held up the package in her hand. “Oh. Thanks!” She said as she stepped inside, removing the light jacket that she wore.

While Ricky was super excited about the prospect of having Skylar over for dinner, he was starting to wish they hadn’t set up the event for the week he was apparently cursed. He could still see his breath on the air in front of him, and while the profound cold and sense of dread and permanent feeling of the rough wood against his fingertips no matter what he was touching didn’t seem like they were actively killing him, they did make him very uncomfortable. He heard the knock on the door and knew it was their guest, craning to try to hear the scraps of conversation from the entryway as he mixed spices in a bowl in preparation for the fish Skylar was meant to bring. Wiping his hands on a towel that somehow felt like rough wet wood, he wandered out from the kitchen into the main entryway, broad smile on his face, “Fishhook! Welcome to our humble abode.” His words created puffs of steam as he spoke them, even his speech affected by the chest’s curse “I’ll be your cursed host this evening. Come in! I’ve got some spices in the kitchen I’ve been mixing for the fish. I think you’ll like them… I hope you will at least.” He offered his hand to Skylar to shake… she didn’t seem like the hug type, and gestures back towards the kitchen “I set up a cheese plate! So we don’t starve while I grill. Can I get you something to drink? Wine? Liquor? Water? I think I have juice in the fridge but I’m not sure. Winnie the Dude you want something to drink?” Curse or no he was going to make this a good evening.

Nodding to Skylar, Winston shrugged. “Thank Ricky, he’s doing all of the hard work, I just get to look here and look less pretty then him.” Taking Skylar’s jacket, they slipped it onto a coat hook and smiled to her gently before leading her through their hallway and into the combined lounge, dining and kitchen space. Winston wasn’t sure if Ricky had changed the place to be open plan or if they had just had a love affair with open plan spaces. Either way it worked really well. Winston noticed the puffs of frost from Ricky’s direction and had to admit that they weren’t about to try and explain that one, but ever since Ricky had touched the chest they had been colder then before and it was starting to get to a stage that worried Winston. “Fishhook? Oh, I get it they…” They led Skylar through the house and shrugged at Ricky. “I’ll get like a beer or wine or something, but you cook and I can do drinks, dream team.” They headed into the kitchen and started pulling various drinks out so that they could display them to Skylar. “We’ve got red and white wine, we’ve got Coronas, we’ve got Talisker Skye Whiskey, we’ve got water; both sparkling and still, we’ve got orange, apple and exotic juice and I think we’ve got milk if you’d prefer that?”

A bit overwhelmed by the flurry of activity and conversation, Skylar set the package of fish down on the kitchen counter. “Oh! Um,” Skylar shook Ricky’s hand awkwardly, very aware that her hand was just a little too slick, “Hi again. And no thanks for the cheese plate or milk-- I’m lactose intolerant.” She said with a wave of her hand at the various beverages that were being offered her way. The two of them were very nice, even if it all was just a little much for her. “If I’m Fishhook, does that make you catch of the day?” She said before laughing a little bit at her own joke. Even if she knew both of them, it was still a little awkward to be invited in. “Um, water will be fine, thanks. I drove here, I’m not really feeling anything particularly alcoholic.” She said with a wave. Gesturing to the fish she brought with her, Skylar scratched her temple, “I already cleaned the fish, but I didn’t filet them-- I wasn’t sure how you wanted to cook them.”

Shaking Skylar’s hand, Ricky was unsurprised to find it still felt like splintered wood in his grasp. This little gift from the chest would get old fast. “More for us then!” He knew better than to overindulge in the cheese, unless he wanted to spend the night puking, but a little of a good thing wouldn’t kill him. “I’m the catch of the month, bare minimum.” He shot her a rakish wink as he bowed courteously to Winston, “Well if you’re going to play bartender I’m going to get started on the fish. I’ll have an Ardbeg neat, if you’re pouring. There should still be a bottle up above the glasses.” His favorite scotch tasted of smoke and sting and he loved its familiar burn. “If it gets too late we do have a very comfy couch. You’re always welcome to stay here. As to the fish. Thanks for the cleaning. I’m not averse to it but I’m not the biggest fan of fish guts all over my kitchen. I think I’ll leave them whole then.” He ducked out to start the grill, marveling at how it didn’t feel any more or less cold than the house; everything was arctic to him at this point. Returning to the kitchen he grabbed a sharp knife from the block and lightly scored the outside of the fish, “How was your day? Get hit by any falling fish?”

“Wouldn’t catch of the month go kind of gross after like the first day though?” Winston retorted quietly as they grabbed Skylar a glass, filled it with ice and then filled it with water. “Wait, unless you don’t want ice? I can get rid of it?” They held the water tentatively, it felt slick within their grasp and suddenly Winston wondered why they had decided to do the drinks. They weren’t a capable host. They knew this. But Skylar and Ricky apparently hadn’t worked it out yet. They would have to fake it till they made it. As Ricky offered them a place to stay, they slid a glass of scotch over to their friend and was about to suggest that they could drive Skylar home if they wanted to drink, but then they remembered that they weren’t currently in possession of a car due to a giant crab… thing. “Just do whatever you want, it doesn’t really matter to us, I think is the point.” Winston grabbed themself a beer and hicked up onto one of the counters to watch, grabbing a piece of cheese to chew on as they did. Taking a long sip of beer they laughed. “What is with the fish falling from the sky? I don’t mean to be cliche, but it is all a little … fishy.”

Floundering a little bit under Ricky’s wink, Skylar felt the back of her neck heat up. At least he was wearing a shirt this time, at least he was fully clothed now. Skylar accepted the glass of water from Winston with a grateful smile, “This is perfect, thanks.” She said, taking a deep drink of water to avoid looking directly in Ricky’s direction. It wasn’t just that he was undeniably attractive, it was the fact he seemed to have a knack for making her squirm that made her eager to change the conversation. “The fish! Mmm. Ahah. I see what you did there. That’s not a bad pun, but it cod be better.” Skylar replied, tension easing slightly as she made a joke of her own. Glancing over at where Ricky was in the kitchen, Skylar shook her head. “I got hit by the tail end of a mackerel, but I’ve been pretty lucky. I saw a swordfish go through the awning of one of the shops in town and it had left some major damage. No one was hurt though.” She said.

“The bottom line is… our house is yours. So please make yourself at home.” Ricky nestled into his favorite corner of the kitchen, where he could chop and slice and still see and be a part of everything. He grabbed a head of garlic from a bowl and started peeling cloves, managing a couple before a glass of scotch made its way into his hand, the thin glass frosting where his fingers touched it “slainte!” The toast echoed through the kitchen as he raised the glass, the amber liquid in the glass almost the same color as his eyes, “to new friends, may they quickly become family.” Quaffing a mouthful of the scotch he went back to slivering garlic “it’s the chest on the beach.” His voice was flat as the words came out on the wings of frosted breath. “Morgan and I got hit with what I think was the first wave after we came in contact with it. I’d avoid touching it if I were you. It’s got some……. lingering side effects.”

Taking a drink from their beer, Winston laughed along with Skylar’s joke, it was better then their own and she seemed to be relaxing a little bit. Although they could see why this might be a little bit weird. “A swordfish? That’s taking it a little literally. I stopped by the police station earlier for some intern stuff and it was chaos. Apparently there is a big pack of those crab things moving around…” they sighed gently and shrugged. “I was hoping that after the cave that would be the first in a very short line of things that would attempt to disrupt my life.” They raised their drink in toast to Skylar and Ricky, and swallowed a generous portion. “I’ll do my best to avoid the beach that is frozen almost entirely solid at this point in time.” This was a weird life that they found themselves living.

Raising her glass as well, Skylar was mid-way through a sip of water before she realized that… mist was coming from Ricky’s mouth. Like he was outside on a cold day? But, they were inside and it wasn’t at all cold and-- wait a second. Was this what he meant by the post about warming up? And crab things… Oh god. Setting down her glass, Skylar leaned against the kitchen counter as she began to understand what was going on. The weird bullshit from last week was definitely here to stay, just in a different capacity. “Lingering effects..? Are you talking about like… a curse?” She asked, confused. “The beach is frozen? That’s not right, that can’t be happening.” But, the more she thought about all the weird little pieces, the more it came together. And her logical, rational part of her mind was stuck with one very horrifying realization. “Magic. Shit. Magic’s real, isn’t it?” Skylar said, glancing at the two roommates, almost hoping they would laugh it off. That they would call her crazy. This was crazy. Wasn’t it?

It was almost akin to a slow motion train wreck, watching the spectrum of emotions that played across Skylars face as she started to put some pieces together. “Ding ding ding!” Ricky sang cheerfully, stuffing the body of the fish with fresh bay leaves and onions “she solved the puzzle!” He wiped his hands on the dish towel slung over his shoulder and moved back to grinding spices in a mortar, “it is. And whatever kind of magic that chest is it’s some real bad juju. It clearly caused the fish. Morgan and I might be cursed. And it froze a section of beach to a goddamn ice rink.” Another sip of whisky and he started to rub the spice mixture into the grooves he’d scored into the fish, “hence the warning you to stay away. You know… you caught on faster than a lot of people. Bravo. Six months in and you figured it out.”ure it out.”

“Ricky….” Winston found themselves chastising their friend, “not everyone in here was brought up knowing all about a world full of … well ghouls and magic.” The irony of course was that they were almost convinced that Ricky and Skylar were the same thing. It made sense after all. The teeth. The hearing. The vision. It was too much of a coincidence. They just had to find some way of forcing their old friend and new friend to admit it to one another. Ricky could definitely help Skylar come to terms with everything, they’d helped Winston after all. “I know that this is a SHIT load to take in, believe me I bailed for like a week when I found out … after y’know the cave of voices incident, so if you need some time, by all means take it, but yeah magic seems like it is real and it seems like it has caused … whatever the hell is going on with that chest.” They paused for a second longer, wondering whether they should admit their own working theory on magic. Not that they’d ever been able to make anything happen deliberately. So far everything that might be magic had happened when things were really going tits up. “I’m sure you’ve got questions, I’m sure Ricky would be happy to answer them because I know about as much as you do.”

Skylar’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the kitchen island tightly, her vision wavering at the edges as she began to take deep breaths. Magic was real. Mhm. It was the only reasonable explanation for the ghoul. And for the bluddles. And for the “red sky” that people had saw. And now everything else that was happening, it was all coming down to magic. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Pinching her eyes shut, Skylar rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I… Think I’ll have a drink now. I don’t really care what.” She said weakly. Magic was real. Magic was real and the two of them knew that it was real and they were being so jokey and happy go lucky about it and Ricky was cursed, but he was joking about it and there was a magic/cursed treasure chest and why the fuck was there a cursed treasure chest and-- Her breathing began to come in quickly as she struggled to keep her cool. What the hell did this mean for her? “I-I-I need answers. Why? How? How long? What’s going on?” She stammered her way through that sentence, fingers tapping restlessly against the kitchen countertop all the while.

Ricky watched somewhat impassively as Skylar went through what appeared to be an entire mental metamorphosis as her entire world view shifted. He poured her a healthy measure of scotch before returning to his food prep “Ricky will answer what questions he can.” He corrected his roommate, sticking his tongue out at them, “I am not a supernatural almanac. I know a bit about a very specific portion of it all. But your questions are easy enough. Why? Because that’s the way the world actually works. How? See above answer. How long? Literally all of human and inhuman history. What’s going on? Way too big a question to neatly answer.” He neatly threaded skewers through the fish, sealing them so the inside would steam and perfume the meat. “Ultimately…. White Crest has it worse than most other places. Dunno why. But. Usually it’s quieter than it has been. Supernatural side’a shit’s been acting up lately.”

Perhaps Winston was more sympathetic because Skylar was going through what they had literal days ago. Swallowing a mouthful of beer they slipped off the top of the counter and moved next to Skylar. “Hey, just breath, this is a lot to take in and it’ll be a lot to process. But it isn’t as if we’re expecting anything from you. Take your time, if we’ve got answers for your questions we’ll tell you what we can, but honestly, I’m as new to this as you are.” They paused for a second longer and sighed gently. “The truth is that I think maybe the world has just always been like this and we’ve been willfully ignorant. There are so many weird things in White Crest, and you wouldn’t believe the other weird things that there are. But for the moment we can tackle magic. It appears to be real. Apparently there are people who can even use and control it.” Maybe like themselves.

Taking the glass of scotch, Skylar tossed it back in a single swallow before setting the empty glass back down on the table, her fingers still trembling as she did her best to collect herself. Mm. Hmmm. Nope, no, she didn’t believe this. But what else could she believe? It was the only reasonable and logical explanation to all of this. At the word, ‘inhuman,’ Skylar’s face twitched. Definitively not human, someone who wasn’t human. Mm. Like her-- nooooo. No, no, no, she wasn’t going to even think about that right now. “So, so… so supernatural shit. That’s what’s happening here? Like, fricking Gandalf is going to pop out of the woodwork, or we’re going to get letters to Hogwarts?” She let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “No, no, no. Nope. Nuh uh. Ahhh…” Skylar tilted her head down, fingers drumming loudly against the countertop as she stared at the island. “Okay, let’s say this is real. Say what you’re telling me is… real. What the fuck can we even do about any of this?”

Ricky couldn’t help but wince as Skylar pounded back a glass of what was $75 a bottle scotch, “Far as I know… no Hogwarts, and Gandalf is probably off the table too… but… it’s White Crest so you never know.” Wandering outside to put the fish on the grill he left the sliding door open so he could still join in on the conversation, “You’ve definitely just been willfully ignorant!” He called through the door after Winston’s comment. They had been their own version of willfully ignorant for sure. Ricky wasn’t even sure if Winston had unblocked him on the town message board yet. “Well.. this whole conversation will be a whole lot easier if you just accept that it is. Which you should. You ran into a ghoul in the Cave… you know it’s real.” The scent of the fish started to waft through the air, and he couldn’t help but take a deep inhale, “What can we do? Avoid the dangerous shit, be smart around the rest of it. We’re just people… not much else we can do.” Turning around briefly to check on the fish he shot Winston a look while his back was to Skylar, hopefully his roommate wouldn't out him as inhuman.

Winston winced for an entirely different reason to Ricky. This was a lot for Skylar to take in and they weren’t sure that Ricky was all that helpful in this current moment. “I don’t think that Hogwarts or Gandalf are real in this world, not that i would really know because y’know, I’ve literally only just found out about this shit, but it can be intense.” They swallowed. Skylar was right. To some extent it truly felt as if they were at the whims of fate right now and no matter what they did they wouldn’t be able to control their fate. “The point is, that now you know, you can learn, like I’m doing and presumably like Ricky once had to, once you know what can hurt you then you can take precautions and make sure that you don’t get hurt by something.” That was Winston’s plan at least. They couldn’t help but wonder what the supernatural equivalent of mace and a tazer was. Would tazers really work on something that was powered by magic? “I think that we’ve also got to consider the possibility that if we know then a lot of other people know and have known about this stuff for a while and they probably have a pretty good handle on it too… right?”

Head still bent over the kitchen counter, Skylar listened to the two roommates try to reassure her. Well, Winston seemed to be trying to reassure her. Ricky… less so. When he wandered out to put the fish on the grill, she looked over at Winston, trying to gauge how they were handling all of this. “Get hurt by something?” Looking through the door at Ricky, her voice went high pitched, “Dangerous shit?” What other awful, crazy bullshit was happening? “If other people know about this sort of thing, why haven’t they said anything? This is like… a huge deal. I got strangled by a ghoul thing and now you’re saying there are other more dangerous things out there? Wouldn’t people want to help people be prepared?” Glancing around, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. But how do you know about all of this, Ricky? And how don’t you, Winston? Haven’t you lived here your entire life?”

“At this moment? I think the fish and karkinoids are the most dangerous shit. At least the most dangerous shit we know about.” Ricky flipped the fish carefully, closing the lid and leaning against the door frame, “Here’s the thing. There has always been this world, shifted slightly out of your focus, that you didn’t notice or know about before. The danger has always been there… you just haven’t known about it. So the danger isn’t any more or any less than it’s literally always been. You just see it now. So it seems worse.” Letting his hair down he shook it loose into its curly mess and shrugged, “It’s a fine line people walk. If they admit they’re a part of this world… well… not everybody is accepting. Sometimes the most dangerous things are human and scared. Me? Oh my mom did. Her mom knew and taught her how to watch for it and she taught me.”

Winston was glad that Ricky came up with the lie. They were already mentally preparing to stumble through it. They definitely should have pre-rehearsed all of this before actually having this conversation with someone. “I mean, the ghoul was as bad as I’ve encountered, it just seems like now is a particularly bad time for it or something? I don’t know what the hell else is out there but after barely surviving collecting your… uh stuff, well I just don’t want to be unprepared.” They considered why this hadn’t been more widely reported on. “I mean, whenever you talk about cryptids or ghosts or vampires or werewolves to normal people who don’t live in the Hellmouth from Buffy, then they just laugh it off and call you crazy, I guess that until you actually see it then you struggle to believe it…” They paused again, taking a drink of their beer to occupy themselves as Ricky did their best to continue the lie. “I don’t know if my parents know or if they’re just in denial, but somehow I managed to avoid finding out about all of this stuff until some big dog breathing fire attacked me, then I managed to get away and there was something with another dog, and then there was something else with a moose thing and then now these giant crabs. It’s just been a shit show since the New Year.”

Doing her best to process all of this information, Skylar shut her eyes tightly. Mmm. The concept of aliens, she could handle. The idea of weird fish spouts and terrible pranks, she could handle. All of this, all of this magical stuff, it was a hard pill to swallow. But the more and more Ricky and Winston talked about it all, the more she could tell that they were genuine about all of this. “Ghosts and vampires and werewolves. Those are all real too? What the fuck? What the actual…” She opened her eyes to stare at the two of them before clearing her throat. “Fire breathing dog and moose and a giant crab... I’m sorry. This is all just… a lot.” She knew that White Crest was weird, she’d known that it was an odd little town since she’d first started poking around the place. But, she’d never thought it would be full of literal magical demons and stuff like that. Even though she was forcing herself not to think about it, not to address it, the same thought kept creeping up in the back of her mind. If this was all real, then what the hell was she?

Ricky pulled the fish from the grill and brought the platter inside, sliding the door closed against the winter chill with his hip as he did so, “Definitely vampire and werewolves…. I assume ghosts are too? But… I don’t actually know that one for sure.” He set the plate on the table and started to get out silverware and plates, “Oh it’s definitely a what the actual fuck moment. It’s gonna be a what the actual fuck week.” Gesturing for his friends to sit and eat the food he was sure would taste cold the minute he put it in his mouth, Ricky shrugged and refilled Skylar’s scotch, “Winston’s right though. It’s easier for people to assume none of this is real and that everyone who thinks so is batshit. Because trying to logic your way out of something like rusalki or aipalooviks is a helluva mental hurdle. But really. If you’re not stupid it’s pretty easy to avoid having the supernatural enter your life… unless the whole town becomes cursed and fish start falling from the heavens. Then it sorta demandingly inserts itself into your life.”

Swallowing gently, Winston followed Ricky from the kitchen to the dining room table that not half an hour ago they had meticulously set for the three of them. Nodding for Skylar to take a seat, they paused for a second trying to give her the time that she really needed to take all of this in. “Look, Skylar, I get it, this is all completely wild, everything that seems to come with this is completely crazy too, it is going to take you a couple of days or maybe even weeks to really process this, fuck knows that I haven’t really processed it, I still have these moments where I feel like I imagine you’re feeling.” They assumed that it was completely and totally normal to feel overwhelmed by all of this. “I have it on fairly good authority that ghosts are real, but I don’t want to out my source for obvious reasons…” they were learning that in a world like the one they had just discovered they lived within, information was both powerful and dangerous in this world that they lived in. “No one is expecting you to adjust to this straight away, but now that you know something, it is better that you know more then less.”

Skylar cradled the glass of scotch in her hand as she followed the roommates into the dining room, taking the seat offered to her by Winston. Her eyes were focused on the fish sitting on the platter in front of them, but she was doing her best to take in all of the information they were telling her. A part of her, a very large part, wanted to shut her hearing aids off and pretend that she hadn’t heard any of this. But, she couldn’t just pretend that this wasn’t real. Not if she wanted to stay safe. She took a sip of scotch, the glass shaking slightly in her hands. “It’s better to know more. Mhm.” She echoed. Better to know more about the situation but also… about herself. Now that was a super troubling thought. “So. If there are vampires and werewolves and whatever that Russian thing you said was… Does that mean the people around here aren’t actually people?” Like me? She wondered.

It was strange to see his dining room look like it was used for a dinner party regularly. Ricky and Winston were both so busy and so laid back that they frequently just ate in the living room, if they were home to eat at the same time at all. Winston’s comment about ghosts had Ricky raise an eyebrow slightly, apparently he had some catching up to do on his roommate’s life. “Winston, like they usually are except when they’re trying to get me to be a responsible adult, is right. Now that you do know… the more you know the better.” He served them each a fish, removing the skewers so fragrant steam filled the dining room, “just because witches are real doesn’t mean they’re evil. At least one of them is an absolute mega bro and I love her. You can judge the supernatural just like you judge the human. On a case by case basis. That being said if it’s chasing you assume the worst.” He cut into his fish and started to eat, shrugging broadly at Skylar’s question “well…:. That depends entirely on how you’re defining people. There are people who are not human. If that’s your question.”

Sitting down, Winston grabbed the bowl of salad that they had put on the table and served themselves. Handing the bowl over to Skylar, they grabbed some fish and hoped that both Ricky and Skylar would realise that neither of them were eating vegetables. They were convinced that they were both selkies and they couldn’t tell the other about it, so they had to lead them to that realisation on their own. Which was hard. “I don’t know if I am really the person to answer these questions either,” they picked up their cutlery and delicately cut into their fish, “the truth is that there is a lot out there that I don’t know. But I’m trying to learn as much as possible. So I can help at the station if things go really bad.”

“People who aren’t human. Cool, just normal people being not people. Neat. Mhm.” Skylar said as she slid a large chunk of fish onto her plate, setting the skewer aside. Just as she was about to take a bite of fish, a flash of movement through the dining room window caught her eye. Looking outside, Skylar did a double take as she saw something skittering along the back patio of the house towards the dining room-- multiple, large, skittering lobster monsters? “Um… Guys? What the fuck is that?” She asked, pointing out of the window to the lobster things that were barreling towards the house. Skylar rose from her seat, hands automatically reaching for one of the large knives on the table. “Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck…” She mumbled under her breath.

Ricky had been been about to eschew the offer of vegetables, ready with the convenient excuse of oh I’m doing paleo/keto/whatever. But before he could present his everready and easy lie Skylar brought his attention to the karkinoids apparently about to lay siege to the house “oh fuck right off! I just fucking cleaned those place.” As Skylar went to for the knife, Ricky’s mind flashed to the baseball bat tucked into the hall closet, “Winnie. Call Dee. Tell her to lock the doors and get upstairs. I know she’s got that shotgun under her bed. She’s gonna need it.” His feet carried him to the closet as he hefted the bat, “can’t have one goddamn dinner in peace in this town.”

#p: ricky #p: skylar #para #wickedswriting #// i'm just making this after the chatzy #one shell of a dinner party

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phoenix-castillo · 5 years ago

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Speed Meet | Monica & Phoenix

@mcnicarcdriguez

Valentine’s Day Event

evening, February 14, 2020

After she got past her initial oh, young surprise in seeing her partner, Monica offered.. Phoenix, her name tag read, a warm smile. “Hi,” she chirped. “How’s you’re night been so far?”

Phoenix was used to the look of surprise that crossed the other's face at seeing her. Most people at this event were older than her, and it didn't help that she looked young for her age. "It's been good, thanks. Meeting people like this is fun. How about you?"

“It’s been good! A new experience, you know? I haven’t done something quite like this before,” Monica gestured around them to the event, “but it’s been fun. What about you? First time to a speed meet too?”

She nodded her head. "Yeah, it's been fun. I like meeting new people, and I try to go to events around town, not just ones on campus." Phoenix wanted to be part of Edgewood, not just another student here to go to school. "Now for the important questions: Which color best represents your personality? And if you were an animal, which would it be and why?"

Monica broke out into a grin at the questions; she liked this one already. "I've been told I give off yellow vibes. Which I agree with. I'm from California, so I grew up with lots of sunshine and positive vibes." As for an animal... "And I'd piiiiiick... a dolphin, maybe? Or a turtle. I've always been a beach baby, and they're super chill animals. Dolphins are great surfing buddies." She leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand, "What about you?"

Phoenix returned the grin, enjoying the positive energy she was getting from Monica. She could see her as being yellow. "Whoa, you've surfed with dolphins? That's so cool!" That was the most exciting thing she'd heard all evening, and she'd heard a lot. "I never got the chance to go surfing when we lived in Santa Barbara for a few months. I'm not sure I have the balance for it." She tapped her finger on her chin and hmmed as if she hadn't already thought a lot about the questions before she asked. "I would probably be pink. As for an animal, I'm clearly a Phoenix." She grinned cheekily and pointed to her name tag.

“Mhm!” She could go on forever about her experiences with ocean critters, big and small. “It takes a lot of practice. My sister could never get into it, but if you’ve ever ridden a skateboard? My brother’s said it’s not too different?” Monica laughed, “That’s cheating. If we can pick mythical creatures, I wanna change my answer.”

"There goes that plan. I've never ridden a skateboard. I can do a bike, but I feel that wouldn't translate as well." Phoenix didn't think that surfing was something she would get super into, but it would be a fun experience to try out. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to imply that we were limited to 'real' animals." She made air quotes around "real". "Please, expand your imagination and answer."

“Yeah, bike riding isn’t the same with balance. There’s a whole,” Monica moved her arms to mimic the spinning of tires, “gyroscope effect with the wheels that keeps you upright.” She left it at that before she could launch into any winded ramblings about surfing. They were on the clock, here. “Clearly I would be a selkie.” Monica’s proclamation was followed with a grin. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be, and why?”

Phoenix just nodded along, not caring to try and understand the physics. All she knew was that a gyroscope was a spinney thingy. "Nice, the best of both worlds there." She tilted her head as she thought. "Well, I've been to much of the US, so I guess it would be cool to visit another country. I think Italy would be fun. How about you?"

“Oh, Italy would be fun,” Monica agreed. “I’ve done a lot of moving around for work, mostly in the states, but I’ve never been to Europe. There’s this, hot air balloon festival, in Turkey. I’d love to go and see that. Or Spain.” For all the traveling she’d done, she still had quite the list of places she wanted to see.

"What do you do?" Phoenix asked. "That would be cool. I'm not really sure I've ever even seen a hot air balloon." She knew they were still around, but hot air balloons felt like an antique and foreign thing. "I would like to meet the people from everywhere and learn about all the different cultures."

"I work with aircraft in the Navy. Well- I'm in reserve, now, so it's not my fulltime gig anymore, but," Monica shrugged, letting the action end her sentence. "They're really neat. And riding in one is such a unique experience." Enough so (to her, at least) that she was willing to go to another country for the chance to do it again at a big festival. "If you ever get the chance, I definitely recommend it." Phoenix's comment brought a smile to Monica's face. "That's a really good goal."

Phoenix wiped a fake tear from her eye. "Monica, I think you might be the coolest person I've ever met." No wonder she knew the physics of bikes--she worked with airplanes. "I've never ridden in an airplane either. So much for being a bird." Her family did all of their moving around the country by car. She looked at the clock to see that there was less than a minute left. "Oh, we are running out of time. Do you wanna exchange numbers?"

Monica grinned at the compliment. "Thanks! You're pretty cool yourself." This had easily been on of her favorite conversations of the night. "Absolutely!" She leaned back to work her phone out of her pocket, quickly unlocking it and pulling up the new contact screen. "I can shoot you a text and let you know it's me so you have my number too, if you wanna do it that way?"

Phoenix grinned at the compliment back. "Sure." She then read out her number for Monica to input it. She got her phone out as well, ready to receive the text. "This night has been going by a lot quicker than I expected."

"It really has," Monica agreed, tapping out a quick Hey, this is Monica from the speed meet text while she talked. The buzzer signaling the end of their time together went off right as she hit Send. "Alrighty. Well, it was a pleasure to meet you, Phoenix. I'm looking forward to talking to you more in the future."

Phoenix's phone vibrated a couple of seconds after the buzzer, almost like an echo. She glanced at the notification to make sure that it was Monica's. "You too, Monica. See you!" She gave a little wave as the people in the room started moving around again.

#edgewoodevent #e: speed meet #~monica #c:monica

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sleepyfan-blog · 6 years ago

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The Moonlight Carnival

anon request that tumblr munched.

fandom: none

warnings: references to gore, body horror, smoking, horror elements, circus, cursing

This was very different than other requests I’ve gotten, but a fun writing exercise. I really hope that you enjoy this, anon.

“Maman!” Lucette called out, a small pout on her face, waggling the end of the fat cigar that had smoldered out in the grey, foggy afternoon. The cold damp had soaked into everything - little droplets of water having condensed onto the thick goggles that the young zombie liked to wear on her head. Her black beret was similarly soaked and some of the frills on her long, black dress had flattened somewhat. Her long, dirty hair (long since stained by the gunpowder that she so loved to play with) clung together in clumps and patches, but none of this mattered to the little girl as she skipped over to her mother, gently tugging on the vampire’s dress “Maman, my cigar went out!”

Leonne smiled indulgently at her beloved daughter, gently reaching out and patting her, glad that the magical sigil continued to glow at least. It proved to her that this fog was not of a natural make, at least. She pulls the cigarette out of her mouth, blowing a bit of smoke out from between her lips as she does so as she lights her daughter’s cigar, and murmurs “Find Vivian and bring her into the main tent, alright? I need to talk with Zosme and Liam… Oh, and do check to make sure that Miss Eloise will be coming for her shift - but that she will need to be on guard. I don’t like the look of this fog. It’s dreadfully suffocating.” She twirled the end of her cigarette holder for emphasis, knowing with long practice how to spin it without causing the cigarette to go spinning out of the holder.

“Yes, maman!” Lucette responded, happily running off to go find her friend, finding her softly blue-glowing form as she drifted from one side of the encampment to the other “Vivian! Vivian, maman says that we have to stay inside.” She grinned widely at her dear magician friend, her crooked, yellow-stained teeth flashing a little in the dim, grey light, her milky-white eyes reflecting her surroundings.

“Hmmm…? Oh… Alright.” The young ghost nodded, drifted after her more lively friend, a small smile appearing on her face as the pair of them made their way into the spacious main tent.

Lucette wandered over to where her cannon was, gently patting it and humming softly, closing her eyes for a couple of moments as she recalled the the many time that she had flown through the air, rising high, high into the sky, her hair streaming behind her, her arms outstretched as she felt as if she could fly, before tumbling down, laughing and screaming with delight as she rocketed back down to earth, uncaring of the splattered mess that she’d make, content to wait until Maman and the others found the scattered pieces of her body. She heard a faint splash from the beautiful, glass tank that Zosme and Liam performed in - finding the way that they flew in the water to be pretty… But water put out her precious fire, and was therefore something that she didn’t like very much. She ran to the water’s edge and called out “Zosme! Zoooosmeee~! Maman really wants to talk to you, something about the fog being weird…”

The tall, slender selkie breached the surface of the water at the sound of the little girl’s voice, and sent her a small smile, a flash of needle-sharp teeth briefly seen before she spoke, her voice beautiful and lilting, as if Zosme were singing just a little (it was such a pretty sound, almost as lovely as the sounds that Lucette’s cannon made as it fired her into the sky! Or into the crowd, which was really funny, even if most of them really didn’t appreciate her guts getting blown across them) “Very well, does she want to talk to Liam as well?”

“Uh-huh! Where’s the cellphone that we use to talk to Eloise at? I don’t remember where Maman put it…” The little zombie asked, frowning for a moment before shrugging. If she needed to remember something, she would!

“It’s on the highest stand of the bleachers, near the lights, so that it can stay charged, little one. The two of us will go speak to the Ring mistress about this supposedly concerning fog. Do not worry, for no weather will scare us away!” The siren promised, gently pointing out where the phone was before setting off in the direction of her boss.

Liam - her lovely Selkie boyfriend - walked hand in hand with her as the pair of them made their way through the dense fog towards Leonne, nodding politely to the vampire. “The young ones are inside - Vivi is practicing one of her card tricks, and I believe that Luci is checking to make sure that her cannon is in working order again. There is definitely something strange about this fog… And perhaps a bit unfriendly, but as we are merely wandering travelers, so long as we do not tarry here for longer than necessary, I believe that we should be safe… Perhaps tag Luci with a locator spell so that we can find her pieces a bit faster?”

Liam shivered a little, squinting a bit, squeezing her hand a little bit and muttering quietly “I think that we should push for a modest crowd, nothing too big. We’re still in the newer territories for The Gentry to try to claim but…” The selkie shivers a little bit, a quiet warble in the back of his throat as he presses closer to his beautiful, badass girlfriend “This reeks of some sort of portent and I’m not about to get pulled into some bullshit quest, or tied down to some scheming being who’s hidden my coat somewhere.”

Zosme growled a little, her eyes flashing with protective wrath “As if I would let someone make you a meek little house-husband, my love. I would sing them to a slow and miserable death, until they are begging we take your coat back before drinking full and deep their life’s blood, giving you their still-beating heart as a prize.”

Leonne nodded, a concerned frown appearing on her face “Duly noted - and I suppose that we should angle for a mainly human crowd, despite how… Judgmental they can be?”

“Yes.” Both Zosme and Liam responded at the same time, nodding in unison.

“Ah, well. It can’t be helped, and I’d rather not have to deal with any of territorial nonsense. I’m not part of a coven for many reasons, the rules that come with being part of a group being one of them.” The Ring Mistress responded with a sigh. “Patrol the grounds until ten minutes before your act begins. Contact me if we have company.”

Siren and Selkie nodded in understanding, this small, travelling circus was very much their home, and they would defend it from anyone who would seek to tear apart their rag-tag little family apart with ridiculous and irritating notions of what beings like them could or should do.

Eloise sighed as her phone rang. She had just caught the last of the fish that Zosme needed for food, had swung by the blood bank for Boss, found some unusual teas and a couple dozen macarons for Luci, and managed to talk the spectral proprietor of the unusual candy and pastry shop to let her purchase some spectral sweets for Vivi. She even found those sea-being friendly chocolates that Liam had begged her to try to find, as a surprise for his girlfriend. Eloise had a couple of hours before she needed to head back and had decided to crash at a hotel to catch some much-needed sleep and was just about to check in to a comfortable place to nap that had this neat time-dilation spell on it that would allow her to get a full eight hours of sleep well before she had to get to work. Was it spendy? Yes. But Eloise was going to be up all night taking tickets and handing out food to the customers and wanted to make sure that she was going to be ready for opening night. Unless it was her parents, demanding that she come home from the circus. In which case she’d just ignore it and sign in. But no, it was the boss. “Hey boss, what’s up?” She asked, yawning a little.

“Miss Eloise, have you noticed the fog today?” Leonne asked without preamble.

The human blinked a little, utterly confused as she walked out of the hotel doors. Unless the weather had changed in the past five minutes, it had been a warm, sunny day. This had not changed “Uh… Boss, I’m not sure where you are right now, but it’s clear blue skies and warm, bright sun. I figured you’d be indoors because of the light bothering your eyes.” That’s how she’d been taught how to talk about her boss’s vampirism in public. Then again, people could get really weird about a lot of things, and Ellie had long since learned how to roll with the punches.

“Non! The fog rolled in shortly after you left in the morning to get us all something to eat… Come back to us, please. Something strange is happening, and I fear we may need to pack up and head elsewhere. Or at least change locations.” Leonne responded, sounding as startled and confused as Eloise felt.

Damn, and she’d already started the word of mouth campaign, spreading throughout the city about the circus. Eloise didn’t understand why Mrs. Leonne wouldn’t let her post about the circus online, but none of them were particularly fond of human gadgetry - and talking about a zombie in a circus could draw the wrong sort of people. Lucette was a sweet, intelligent kid, and the last thing that Eloise wanted was for some dumb asshole to try to kill her for being an abomination… Or worse. “Yes boss. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll text you when I’m about ten minutes out.”

“Good. Travel safely.” Leonne acknowledged before hanging up.

Sure enough, as soon as Eloise hit the side of town that The Moonlight Carnival was set-up in - perfectly legally, mind you. They had all of the permits and zoning requirements as needed per city, county and state laws… There was a fog wall. Thick as anything and looking very much like a physical barrier. There were also beings in neat, black and white pinstripe suits patrolling the perimeter looking incredibly official and intimidating. Despite everything that she’d been taught in school, the human moved closer to the group, catching the…

Moonstone lotus pins that each of them wore above their left breast pockets, just above neatly folded blood-red handkerchiefs that were probably silk or something equally expensive. Eloise cursed quietly to herself as she pulled out her phone, looking up where the nearest public rose garden was, walking with purpose away from the patrolling beings, doing their best to seem unconcerned by what they were doing so long as they didn’t go after her.

She stepped lightly over the barrier of salt-stones and garlic plants, across the fast-flowing water and into the public rose garden, heading straight for one of the ovals (carefully maintained so as not to turn into circles as an unwitting invitation to the fae) and called her boss.

“Eloise, are you alright? I cannot hear you.” Leonne asked, concern in her voice.

As if she was really ten minutes away, Leonne could hear her heartbeat, if the vampire so chose. “I sought sanctuary in a rose garden. Sorry about that, but The Gilded Lotus has cordoned the half of the town that the circus is in. I’m not sure if they’re after you or someone else, but you all should really clear off. I saw a dozen of the smug fuckers patrolling the fog-barrier, so whatever they’re after, they really want it.”

“Merde. Stay there until I call you again. I dislike the noisiness of this city and I don’t feel like putting on a show tonight. I’ll inform the others of that.” Leonne responded with an irritated growl underlining her words.

“Yes boss.” Eloise answered back. This wasn’t the first time they’d skipped town because of local bullshit, and it likely wouldn’t be the last.

#my writing #gore tw #body horror tw #smoking tw #horror tw #circus tw #vampire #zombie #selkie #siren #ghost #cursing tw

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maple-writes · 6 years ago

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The City of Eventide - Chapter 3

Here we are!

As much as he complained about getting out of bed this morning, I was glad to have Cirrus by my side as we stepped through the main doors of Eventide College. Honestly, it was too small to be called a college, but it was probably too late now for a renaming. The campus was a mashing-together of an old brick main building and the more modern, glassy wings that shone in the late morning light. I slowed as we entered the main foyer, craning my neck to take in the high ceilinged room. Hallways branched off at all angles, staircases spiraled from one floor to the next, and the smell of old wood permeated the warm air.

I swallowed as we crossed the open space, nerves knotting in my stomach. This was actually happening, for real. I didn’t know where to look, at the old paintings on the wall, the groups of prospective students crowded around the edge of one of the hallways, the arches holding up the high ceiling… I came to a halt in the middle of the room, jaw shut tight. It was just so… Big.

Cirrus nearly walked straight into my back. “Hey.” He growled. “What the hell?”

“Sorry,” I started towards a folding table adorned with a banner that read check in written in bright blue. “This place is huge…”

He didn’t give any indication that he’d heard me, and I turned back towards the table and the woman standing behind it. She smiled as I approached, standing taller in front of her neat rows of papers and files.

“Hello,” She called as I stopped before her. “Last name?”

“Sang.”

She repeated the name to herself as she thumbed through one of her stacks of files. The main hall, so wide and tall, amplified the voices of chatting students throughout. It didn’t do anything to help the tension seeping into my shoulders or tightening my ribs. I swallowed and glanced at Cirrus, standing so indifferent. Sometimes I wished I was as unaffected by everything as he was, arrogant as me may be.

“Asher?” The woman’s voice drew my attention back.

I nodded. “Yep.” Was yep too casual?

But if it were, the woman didn’t seem to care. She drew a small folder with my name on the tag and handed it to me over the table.

“This is for you,” She smiled again as I took it. “Inside you’ll find a name tag, a map with test locations marked off, a schedule, and a page with your personal time slots indicated.” She paused as I nodded. “Alright then,” She pointed towards a crowded hallway. “You’re first exam room is just down that hallway where the others are waiting.”

I thanked her with a smile I hoped didn’t look too nervous, and hurried in the direction she’d given, Cirrus at my heels. We took a spot by one of the walls, so far back that I couldn’t see the actual entrance past the others. I swallowed against more nerves threatening to choke. At this point, I couldn’t tell if it was just me, or the way the air seemed to buzz with anxiety from the gathered crowd. I learned against Cirrus, almost relieved when some of my fear ebbed away to his smug indifference. Almost without realising I matched his posture, scanning the crowd with my arms crossed and chin raised.

Cirrus chuckled, low and mean. “Idiots.”

I frowned and wrinkled my eyebrows.

“Look at them,” he gestured with his head towards the hopeful students, many of them scanning pages of handwritten notes or books. “If they weren’t sure they knew this stuff they shouldn’t have applied.” He scowled. “Wasting their time.”

“Come on Cirrus,” I nudged his side and pretended not to notice his indignant glare. “Be nice.”

He set his jaw and looked away, setting his glare on something across the room. I stood up straight and broke contact before his haughty anger made it’s way into my own chest. Luckily, no one around us seemed to have heard his comments. At least, if they did they did a good job of hiding it.

I toyed with the wolf pendant around my neck, smooth and cold against my hands. It was strange, being around so many people with the same goal. Curiosity chewed at the edges of the nerves coiling inside. These people were more or less like me, weren’t they? I leaned forward off the wall. There were people of all ages, with souls buzzing from human to werewolf and even what might have been a selkie. Maybe Striker was right. Maybe this would be good for me.

A hush fell over the group and I stiffened. From the other end of the hall a voice I could barely hear started to give instructions. I swallowed. Was it time to go in so soon?

Cirrus pushed off from the wall. “Well, I’m off then.”

I gave up trying to hear whatever the invigilator was saying and faced Cirrus. “Like, going home?”

“Yeah.”

My shoulders and heart fell. He wasn’t going to wait for me? I guess it would be a pretty long wait… But still.

Cirrus huffed and clenched his jaw. “I don’t have to be here Ash. It’s a waste of my time to sit and wait here all day.”

I started to reply, but held my tongue. What else was he going to do today? Sit around at home doing nothing like every other day? I turned my back on him. Was I really not important enough to him to take one day for? Wasn’t like he was missing anything anyway.

“Fine.” I glanced back over my shoulder, voice flat. “I’ll see you at home.”

Cirrus muttered a half hearted good bye, slipped through the crowd and just like that he disappeared. But I didn’t have time to try and look for him. Almost as soon as he’d left, the people around me started the slow shuffle forward.

The practical entrance exams it turned out, took place in a room in a lower level obscured by thick wooden doors. I stood waiting with a small group of other nervous hopefuls who’s last names lived around the same part of the alphabet as mine. Finally, they called my name and led me though the doors.

They led me though a narrow, stone hallway and told me to wait by a second, less ornate door. Then they were gone, and it was just me and the chill in the air. I wrung my shaky hands together and leaned against the wall. What if I didn’t know how to do whatever it was they wanted me to do behind this door?

The handle clicked and a second later the door opened, and a tired looking but welcoming woman ushered me inside.

“Asher?” She tilted her head, and when I nodded, held out a hand. “Call me Holly.”

I took her hand and shook. Though her smile was warm, I could feel the tired indifference creep across the skin of her palm into me. She drew her hand back and I mirrored, almost grateful. At least it replaced some of my nerves for at least a little while.

Holly opened the door wider and stepped inside, beckoning for me to follow. “Well, let’s get started then.”

I followed her inside, letting the door swing shut behind us. The room behind the door was wide and square, with a table off to one side covered items I didn’t recognize. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of something sharp and smoky, hoping Holly didn’t notice. Besides the table though, the room was barren.

Holly paused by the center of the room and turned to face me. “Alright then,” She gestured to the table. “You’re welcome to use anything we have over there during this assessment as I walk you through what we would like to see.”

I nodded, nerves returning to tighten around my chest. Would I be docked points for not using what they’d given me? I stole a glance. There was a lot of tools, but none that I could name or even begin to fathom what they were fore. I swallowed. Would I even be able to use them even if I knew how?

“So,” Holly continued. “First question: are we alone in this room?”

Were we? I took a deep breath and scanned the room from wall to wall, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“Yes,” I focused back on Holly. “It’s just us.”

Holly nodded and adjusted her glasses. “Good.” She wrote something on the clipboard she held in her hand. “How do you know?”

How? I swayed on my feet. How was I supposed to know? Was there a right answer? I swallowed and slipped my hands into my pockets. Well, even if I could think of a good lie, I’d never gotten anywhere good by lying before.

“I can feel it.” I raised my head again. “When something else is around.”

“Are you saying your clairvoyant?”

Kind of? I hesitated. “I guess so.” Was that the best way to describe it? “Yes.”

Holly jotted something down and eventually raised her head. “Interesting.” She tapped the pen absentmindedly against her hand. “Well next—”

Something entered the room. I turned my head towards the wall where something loose drifted unseen from the corner. But unlike the warehouse, this one exuded curiosity in place of malice.

“What are you looking at?” Holly’s question came in a manner of fact tone; cold but not unfriendly.

I gave a quick glance to Holly before responding. “Oh, there’s a, um.” I paused, squinting at the spirit drifting along the wall. What was it? Was there terminology that I should be using? “There’s something here with us. Over here.”

Holly marked something down. “Is it dangerous?”

I quickly shook my head, unwilling to let it out of my view. It didn’t seem to want to leave though, floating under my sight like it was trying to figure me out as much as I tried to learn more about it.

“Good.” She paused, the sound of her pen against paper filling the air. “Can you establish communication with it? Tell me what you can gather about it. Take as much time as you need.”

I swallowed and focused on the now stilled being by the corner. Slowly, I extended a hand towards it, palm up and open. With a sigh, I relaxed my shoulders and dropped my guard. I closed my eyes. A chill crept slowly from my fingers into my core, like cold water running from my veins to my heart.

The spirit settled itself snug within my ribs, seeming to ebb and flow with the rhythm of my breaths. Risky move, don’t you think? It—no, she—spoke softly in my thoughts. I nodded to myself, head moving just the slightest amount, and dropped my hand to my side. It was fine. Is it? I knew you wouldn’t hurt me. I took a steadying breath. What’s your name?

Cynthia Eirn. Oh, that’s a nice name. I turned towards Holly and opened my eyes. Thankfully the room was so empty, so void of all other souls that it made finding Holly’s in the center easy. She stood, a blurred haze of light against a cold, hard background.

“Cynthia,” My voice came out strained, like I had to force my mouth to make the sounds. “Cynthia Elrin. Her.” I paused, to gather my thoughts against Cynthia’s hum at the back of my mind. “Name.”

Cynthia pressed against my limbs, testing oh so slightly how far she could take hold, but let up as soon as I held firm against her attempts to control me. Not your first rodeo eh? A grin spread across my face. Not by a long shot. I raised my head and leaned back against one leg. You live here, don’t you?

Clever guess. I took a breath and hooked my thumbs into my pockets. “Lives… here.” My grin widened, You know who I am? “Founder’s daughter.” I settled my hand on my hips and straightened my back. “Born here, died here, remain here ever since.”

But, are you happy staying? Happy? This is my home. But… I turned away from Holly’s smoky presence, tapping the toe of my shoe against the linoleum floor. You don’t have to stay here, do you? Would you like—are you suggesting I pass on? I nodded. Cynthia drew smaller, chills disappearing from my shoulders to concentrate at my sternum. Perhaps. I can help you. I’m sure you can. Would you like me to?

Holly moved nearer. “Asher?”

What do you need? Oh, don’t bother. My head snapped up, chest rising with pride and lips spreading in a toothy grin. This place is just as much mine as it is my fathers. It’ll stay mine unless as long as this building stands!

“Asher!” Holly’s voice came from right beside my ear.

I swung my head towards her. She held something in her hand. Something she hadn’t had before. Something bright and violent.

She raised her voice. “Asher whatever you are doing—” Her words sounded distant, like shouts heard from deep underwater. “Stop now. Cynthia enough.”

You’re either brave or stupid, I rolled my eyes. Going into this line of work with a vessel only half occupied. That’s why—no, stop. You have to go.

Holly reached for my arm and I jerked sideways, raising a hand for her to wait. I brushed my fingers along the fabric of my shirt until I found the edge of her spirit curled around the curve of my aorta. In soft movements, I untangled her from her perch among my blood vessels and drew her out like smoke drifting from a burnt-out candle. It was nice to meet you. She dissipated into the open air and just like that her presence was gone.

I came back with a gasp, filling my lungs with the still air of the room. My legs shook, and my heart beat unevenly, but I managed to stay on my feet and face Holly once more. She stared, face tight and clipboard abandoned on the table. Replacing it in her hand now, was what looked like the hilt of a dagger with a blade made of something I couldn’t see so much as feel. I smoothed back the hair that had fallen into my face and wiped the beginnings of sweat from my brow with the back of my sleeve.

Silence filled the space between us, neither wishing to make the first statement.

Finally, Holly cleared her throat. “Wait here.”

Before I could respond, she turned and slipped out the door. It closed with a bang behind her, and nerves shot through my gut. My throat tightened. Shit. Did I do something wrong? Was that something I wasn’t supposed to do?

I wrung my hands and paced along the middle of the room, the echoes of my footsteps booming loud against the hard surfaces. Idiot! Of course I wasn’t supposed to do that! How many humans could take in a spirt just like that, and especially take it out with their bare hands? No. I ran another shaking hand through my hair. I didn’t know for sure they knew. Not yet. Just keep it up a little longer.

The door opened, and Holly returned. “Come with me.”

She waved her arm and I hurried across the room to follow her out the door. But this time, instead of taking me through the long hallway to the main room, she swiped a key card to open another, almost hidden door along the side. She opened it for me, and I quickly followed before I could change my mind.

The locked door, it turned out, was a short passage way to another, public hallway. This one was near empty though, the only ones walking its length seeming to be faculty or staff. None gave us more than a polite nod as we passed. Holly walked quickly, and I had to hurry to keep up.

“Hey,” I spoke quiet, almost afraid to be heard. “Where are we going?”

Holly glanced my way as she turned down a slightly smaller hallway lined with doors to what looked like offices. It was a sunny corridor, bright light streaming in through colorful stained glass windows, warming my shoulders.

She opened one marked Departments of the Supernatural Arts and gestured for me to step inside. “Here.”

I hesitated, frozen to the spot. Why? I’d done something wrong, hadn’t I?

Holly seemed to read my mind. ��You’re not in trouble.” She held the door open wider, glancing down the hallway. “But we need to talk.”

My shoulders fell, and I let myself be led inside. Immediately in the entrance sat a long, low desk and a cluster of waiting room plastic chairs. Sitting behind the desk,an older woman who gave us a curious look.

Holly placed both hands on the counter and leaned in. “Is Charlotte in?”

The receptionist nodded.

“Good.” Holly pushed off against the desk and gestured to the waiting chairs. “Wait here, we’ll call you in a moment.”

She turned and left down one of the narrower hallways around the corner, and I slowly took a seat in one of the chairs. It was cold. The receptionist didn’t seem to take any note of me, and at least a tiny bit of relief seeped through the tension. I leaned back against the wall, taking the strain off my neck as I closed my eyes. Sitting down, the stiffness that’d all but been kept at bay crept into my muscles. But it wasn’t so bad. Nothing a little rest wouldn’t cure. Nothing compared to whatever that had been last week. I shifted my shoulders, trying to ease the seizing the muscle. Come to think of it, that had been a demon, hadn’t it? Or at least something not far off.

Footsteps made me open my eyes as Holly reappeared at the mouth of the hallway. She beckoned with her hand and I followed as she lead me through a door marked Dean of Supernatural Arts. There, seated behind a worn mahogany desk, a tall, dark woman gestured to the empty seat across from her.

“Take a seat, Asher.” She rose from her chair and held out a hand. “Charlotte Que.”

I reached out a shaking hand, surprised to feel some of my own tension reflected in her touch. She quickly sat, and I followed suit as Holly stepped around the desk to face me from the other side.

Luckily, the quiet didn’t last long until Charlotte spoke again. “So, Asher, I’m going to get to the point. Please know I ask this not to offend you, and that your answer will not leave this room.” She folded her hands and rested her elbows on the surface of her desk. “But, what are you?”

They knew. Sweat dampened my palms and I tried to dry them on the fabric of my pant legs, but with little success.

I swallowed, but my voice still shook when I spoke. “I, my father.” I lowered my head and dropped to a whisper. “He was a demon.”

Charlotte nodded, her face unchanging in the afternoon light streaming in through the dusty windows behind her back. “So,” She raised her chin. “You’re a cambion?”

I nodded.

“Well, you would have fooled me if Holly hadn’t tipped me off.” Charlotte leaned back in her chair. “You’re not exactly the textbook example, you know.”

Again, I only nodded. She was right, but I didn’t know where she was going with this. I didn’t know what an exorcist would do with someone half demon. I swallowed and shifted in my chair.

Charlotte crossed one leg over the other with a barely noticeable sigh. “You’re lucky, you know that right? That you take after your mother.”

“I know.” I held my tongue before I could mention Ember, with her flames and her eyes and her horns and claws and fangs and isolation.

“That being said,” Charlotte continued, tone serious. “I hope you can understand that we cannot in good conscious allow you into our program here, for the safety of our students as well as your own. The methods and techniques we employ here…” She shook her head. “Well, we just don’t know what they would do to you and I am not comfortable having you fill the role of guinea pig.”

I slumped in my chair. “Oh.” Relief washed over me, followed immediately by disappointment as my heart sunk. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Asher,” Charlotte paused, eyes drifting up like she searched for words. “There’s another question I need to ask you.” Another pause. “Why did you apply for our program? What did you hope to get out of studying here?”

My fingers worked themselves nervously, but I forced myself to sit up straight once again. “I, my brother suggested it. I have the ability to help—I can’t just ignore someone or something that needs my help.” I paused, searching for words. “He was worried something bad might happen to me they way I do it now.” I lowered my voice. “And he might be right, but I can’t just not do anything when I know I can.”

“Oh no doubt about it, communication via invited possession can be extremely dangerous.” Charlotte raised her eyebrows. “But in your case it’s what comes naturally, am I right?” When I nodded, she continued. “And you are not likely to give it up, are you?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I can.” Cirrus always did tell me I didn’t know how to say no.

Charlotte and Holly exchanged glances. Then Charlotte leaned over her desk, resting her chin on clasped hands. I couldn’t help but mirror, leaning as far forward on my chair as possible, curiosity straining at every fiber. Thought whirred behind black eyes, until her face broke into a tiny smile.

“Although I cannot grant you enrollment into our programs,” Her voice flowed like the water from a shaded creek. “I may be able to offer you an apprenticeship. Though we do not officially offer this kind of education, exceptions are made for special cases in which a traditional route would be unsuitable.” Her grin stretched further. “And you, Asher, qualify.”

I blinked, staring wide eyed across table. “I, I think—”

“Of course, I’m not going to make decide right here and now,” Charlotte leaned back in her chair once again. “I’ll extend the same period of thought given to any other student. Plus, I think it would be good for you to meet the woman who would serve as your mentor to make sure you have all the information you’d need to make a sound choice.” She raised an eyebrow. “Sound good?”

I nodded, words failing to find their way from my head to my mouth.

Charlotte smiled and stood from her chair, watching as I did the same. “Splendid.” She gathered a folder from her desk and started towards the door. “Come with me then; Ginger lives in the basement.”

#writeblr #writblr #writing #the city of eventide #tcoe #chapter 3 #fantasy #its here!#:d #original writing #my writing

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