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pterodactylterrace · 3 years ago

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Guys Like You ~ENDING~

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 20

Chapter Summary: My ill fated attempt to tie everything up nice and pretty and end on a positive note. In my head, this went a different way, but I decided to go the happy route for everyone

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of blood and childbirth

“I feel like a blimp.” Faye groaned, giving up on trying to fasten her sandals herself and plopping down on the bed instead.

“I think you’re gorgeous.” Henry soothed, straightening out his tie in the mirror and crouching down to help her with her shoes.

“I can’t see my feet.”

“They’re still here.” Henry chuckled, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her swollen belly.

“What about my vagina?” Faye grouched, smoothing a hand along her bump.

“I plan on thoroughly investigating that later.” Henry purred, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Why not now?”

“Because we’ll be late if we do. Now come along, darling. We both know everyone is dying to see the bump.” Henry encouraged, standing and gently helping her to her feet. They had posted earlier that week to his Instagram about their newest addition. Just a picture of a Superman onesie, captioned “Baby Boy Cavill, coming early next spring.” To say it had blown up would be an understatement. This was going to be their first public outing since they had announced the pregnancy. Faye had gone back and forth several times on whether or not she had wanted to actually accompany him, ultimately deciding to spend the evening out with her fiancé.

“Carry me?” Faye whined, giving him a pouty look.

“I’ll carry you around all you like after the premiere. If we show up in wrinkled clothing, people may get the wrong idea.”

“Henry, I’m pretty sure they know we’ve been having sex.” Faye pointed out, gesturing vaguely toward her belly. “Plus, you’ve done a wonderful job of making sure I’m satisfied at all times.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” Henry chuckled, placing a hand on her lower back to urge her to the door and quickly readjusting himself in his suddenly too tight trousers. This woman was going to be the death of him. All she had to do was allude to sex, and all the blood would rush straight to his groin. He was fairly certain she had trained his dick to get hard with just a look, not that he was complaining. He’d heard several men grumbling about how their partners didn’t want anything when they were expecting. He seemed to get lucky with the opposite. She’d been much friskier during her first trimester, but after she hit the halfway point, she was damn near insatiable.

“Now make sure you behave. Hands to yourself.” Henry murmured in her ear, the couple stopping just long enough to remind the babysitter that Briar had to be in bed by eight and to tell the little girl goodbye.

“You were joking about the hands to myself thing, right?” Faye questioned almost as soon as the driver had rolled up the partition.

“It’s been less than two hours.” Henry half laughed, tangling his fingers with her wandering digits.

“So? Are you really going to turn down getting busy?”

“Darling, we’ll make a mess right before we end up in front of a ton of cameras.” Henry pointed out, kissing the back of her hand lovingly. “Just try to contain yourself for a few more hours, then I’ll be yours all night.”

“All night?”

“All night.” Henry confirmed, kissing her temple adoringly and gently placing a hand on her swollen stomach. “You look beautiful.” Henry whispered, shamelessly staring at her cleavage.

“Don’t be a tease.” Faye pouted.

“My apologies, darling.” Henry chuckled, resting his cheek against her head.

~*~

“I’m not leaving this house again until this baby is born.” Faye declared dramatically as she flopped down on the couch.

“Does that mean you’ve decided on a home birth?” Henry asked, glancing up from the puzzle Briar was trying to put together.

“Yes.” Faye growled, glaring down at her extended belly. “Tell me, Mr. Cavill. Is there a particular reason you decided to put a gigantic baby in me? Hmm? Is this some sort of payback for something?”

“Darling, the doctor said he’s only slightly larger than average.”

“Baby brother is BIG!” Briar giggled.

“Yes, he is.” Faye agreed, pushing herself up from her slouched position. “He also likes to kick Mommy in the ribs.”

“I’m sorry, darling.” Henry cooed, pushing himself up from the floor to sit next to her on the couch.

“You should totally carry the next kid.” Faye grumbled, leaning against him.

“I would if I could, darling.” Henry assured, wrapping his arm around her and kissing the top of her head.

“My feet are swollen, my belly is huge, I’m pretty sure I just peed a little and all I can think about is oranges.” Faye grumpily listed off, wiggling her way to the edge of the couch and rocking herself to her feet.

“Oh…” Henry mumbled, his eyebrows pulling together as he watched the wet darkness rapidly spread across the back of her sweats and down her legs.

“Oh shit.” Faye gasped, staring in horror at the wetness soaking into her pants. “Oh fuck… Henry!” She yelled, trying to peer over her stomach to see her legs.

“Yes?” Henry asked unsurely as he stood himself up, intent on cleaning the mess before it soaked in anymore.

“I don’t think that was pee.”

“What?”

“That. Wasn’t. Piss.” Faye ground out, snapping her head around to look at him.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to get me to understand, darling.” Henry admitted, his brows pulling together as he studied her face. “Wait… you don’t mean?” Henry whispered, realization washing over his face. “But he’s not due for another couple of weeks!”

“Well, it looks like he was just as tired of waiting as I was!” Faye grumbled.

“Mommy, you had an accident.” Briar pointed out as she put the last piece in her puzzle, hopping to her feet and scampering off down the hall, assuring her mother she would find her something else to wear as she ran off.

“Ok… I’m not going to panic.” Henry promised, more to himself rather than to his fiancé. “I’m going to call the doula and the nanny. Do you need me to help you to the bathroom?”

“I’m not contracting, I can walk.” Faye pointed out.

“Just in case it starts, then.” Henry suggested, resting one hand on her lower back and taking her hand with the other, keeping pace beside his fiancé as she did an odd combination of a shuffle and a waddle to the bathroom.

“FUCK!” Henry shouted as soon as the door was closed, his heavy footsteps falling down the hallway as he ran back to the living room, frantically trying to locate his phone. “KAL!” Henry called, his wild eyes darting around the room. “Kal where’s my phone?!”

“KITCHEN!” Faye yelled from the bathroom, rolling her eyes to herself. “So much for not panicking.”

“Thank you, Kal!” Henry called back, his rapid steps sounding again as he crossed the house, snatching his phone from where it was peacefully charging on the counter, hitting the contact number for the doula and impatiently listening to it ring.

“He does know the dog can’t talk; I promise.” Faye sighed, shoving her wet clothes down and sitting on the toilet to kick herself free. “Papa’s just a little excited right now. He’s going crazy waiting to meet you.” She assured her swollen stomach.

“Faye?” Henry called softly from the other side of the door, slowly cracking it open and giving her an apologetic smile. “She’s asking questions I don’t know the answer to.”

“What does she want to know?” Faye asked, watching as he slowly slid his giant frame into the bathroom with her.

~*~

“You’re doing so good, darling.” Henry whispered, gently running his hands up and down his fiancé’s back. “Another one’s coming up, deep breath.” He instructed, his eyes flicking to his watch back to Faye. He gripped her hips firmly and dug his thumbs in right where she’d shown him so many contractions ago, rubbing in slow small circles to ease the pain in her back.

“I wanna get in the tub.” Faye groaned as the tightness in her belly began to ease.

“Alright, darling. I’m going to need you to stand up with me.” Strong arms wrapped around her and slowly helped to her feet; an adoring kiss being planted to the crown of her head. “Now I need you to walk with me, can you do that?”

“Yeah. It’s not bad between the contractions.”

“I’ll be right here if you need me.” Henry assured, taking her small delicate hand into his calloused paw, slowly leading her to the bathroom. He let her rest against the sink as he fiddled with the taps, plugging the drain once the water had warmed.

“Fuck… Hen…” Faye hissed, her jaw clenching along with her distended abdomen.

“I’m right here, I’m right here.” Henry quickly took her back in his arms, letting her lean against him as he tried to find the spot on her back from the new angle.

“For fucks’ sake, how long has it been?” Faye groaned, helping Henry pull her shirt off and toss it onto the growing pile of laundry she was creating during her labor.

“Just over three hours.” Henry informed, biting his lip at his fiancé’s hopeless groan.

“That’s it?!”

“You’re doing so good.” Henry repeated, expertly unclasping her bra with one hand and casting it aside to help her step into the warm waiting water. He settled in next to the tub, holding his phone up where she could see it and pulling up one of her favorite shows, hoping to distract her.

~*~

“I wanna push.” Faye gasped, her knuckles going white as she squeezed the side of the tub, her entire body tense with a contraction.

“That’s great, that’s your body telling you you’re ready to have your baby.” The midwife assured, gently wiping her face with a wash rag. “You’re in charge here, how do you want to do this? Do you want to stay in the tub, or do you want to move somewhere else?”

“I’m staying.” Faye groaned, maneuvering herself to her knees with Henry’s help.

“You’re so close, darling.” Henry whispered, kissing her forehead adoringly, wincing slightly when her next contraction came, and her nails dug into his arm. “You’re doing so good.”

“Henry, I need you.” Faye hissed, desperate hands attempting to drag him into the tub with her. “Come here, please.” She pleaded, throwing her arms around his shoulders when he carefully lowered himself into the tub with her.

“I’m right here, darling. I’m right here.” Henry assured, rubbing her back softly, letting her lean into him as much as she wished. He paid no attention to the blood tinging the water or her nails digging into his shoulders. Instinct took over when Faye said she could feel the head coming. He reached between himself and his fiancé, gently cradling his son as he was pushed into the world.

“He’s here. He’s here.” Henry gasped after a final push, bringing the baby to his chest, quickly wrapping an arm around Faye’s shoulders to ease her back against the side of the tub.

“He’s here.” Faye breathed, a tired smile spreading across her face as Henry gently laid their son on her chest, peppering her forehead with adoring kisses and pushing her wet hair from her face.

“You did it, Faye.” Henry whispered, smiling down at the baby in her arms, his heart swelling with pride. She did that. His fiancé just brought a new life into the world. In that moment, he was simply blown away at just how strong she could be. It took almost all the mental focus he had remaining not to propose to her again, still crouching in the blood and goo filled water with her.

Reluctantly, Henry removed himself from the tub, taking a second to appreciate Faye’s demand of the oversized bathtub when they had renovated the bathroom. He was quick to rinse himself off in the other shower, throwing on dry sweats and returning to the bathroom where Faye was still gushing over their newest addition. The baby was handed to him while the midwife attended to his fiancé, draining the tub and gently rinsing away the sweat and mess clinging to her skin with a cool stream.

“He’s so tiny.” Henry whispered in awe, staring down at his minutes-old son.

“The hell he is!” Faye groaned, shooting him a look fit to kill.

“I think he agrees with you.” Henry grunted, his son’s chubby fist finding his chest hair and gripping it tightly, squirming his newly freed limbs the best he could in his tight swaddle.

“He’s only small compared to you.” The midwife compromised, Henry helping Faye step out of the tub with one arm, the other tightly cradling their son to his chest, hovering close as the midwife helped her to redress. “You have another child already, right? So, you know the bleeding is going to continue for a few weeks. Make sure you rest as much as you can. Now isn’t the time to be a hero. You’ve just gone through a lot; you need time to heal.”

“Can I have our son back now?” Faye asked, raising an amused brow at her already doting fiancé, who reluctantly handed the infant back to his mother.

“Rest, darling.” Henry reminded her, securing one arm around her rapidly deflated waist and holding her tight to his side, walking her back to their waiting bed, their son’s bassinet already pulled up close to her side.

“I wanna hold him a little more.” Faye pouted when Henry took the baby back, holding her hand to help her into bed the best he could.

“Lay down first. You’re getting shaky.”

“Then can I hold him?”

“I suppose, since you did just birth him an all.” Henry playfully sighed, handing off their son again and seating himself on the edge of the bed, content to just watch mother and child for the time being.

~*~

“Papa?” Briar yawned, shuffling into their room with her stuffed bunny in tow.

“Yes, princess?” Henry mumbled, already half asleep after changing his son and passing him back to his mother for a midnight feeding.

“He too noisy. Can you tell baby brother to be quiet? I can’t sleep.”

“You heard her, Liam. No more screaming in the middle of the night. You need to use your inside crying after 9pm.” Henry informed his young son, the only reply being his son’s usual cooing grunt as he continued to nurse.

“Sorry, Briar. He’s still little, he needs a lot of attention right now.”

“I like attention too.” Briar pouted, stubbornly climbing into their bed and perching herself on Henry’s stomach as she watched her mother.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.” Faye sighed, fighting the tears welling in her eyes.

“How about Mummy takes you to the park for a little bit tomorrow?” Henry suggested

“Liam is too little to be bringing out to a playground, Hen.” Faye pointed out, relatching the child when he stopped to stare at her nursing bra in confusion.

“So feed him right before you go, and again when you get home. You need a break from baby duty, babe.” Henry suggested, shifting Briar off his stomach to sit next to him instead.

“I wanna go, Mommy!” Briar whined, looking up at her mother hopefully.

“What if he gets hungry while I’m gone?”

“I know damn well you have extra in the fridge. It’s a bit of a surprise when you add some of that into your coffee in the morning by mistake, by the way.”

“So that’s why I was missing some.”

“I thought it was that ‘fancy’ cream you get from the farmer’s market. I was wrong.”

“It was in the same bottle, though.”

“You little…” Henry grumbled, pushing himself up on his elbows to glare at her properly. “Why would you refill a container with milk that looks startlingly similar to what was in it in the first place? You set me up for failure!”

“Mommy, I sleep with you tonight?” Briar asked hopefully, blissfully ignorant to her parent’s playful discussion.

“No, baby. You’re not going to get any sleep in here with us. Baby brother wakes up too much at night.” Faye explained, glancing hopefully at Henry. Understanding what she was trying to tell him, Henry snatched the little girl up and rolled out of bed, smiling at her excited squealing as he carried her down the hall under his arm surfboard style.

“Do you want me to turn on your Baby Shark music?” Henry asked once she had been replaced in bed, Kal lazily licking at her ear when she rejoined him. He didn’t bother even waiting for an answer before flipping through her tablet, pulling up the hour long loop they usually played for her at bedtime.

“Kal wants ice cream.” Briar informed him, batting her lashes up at her father figure hopefully.

“Kal knows he can’t have ice cream. It’s too hard on his stomach.” Henry yawned, looking suspiciously at the canine.

“No, he wants it for me, silly.” Briar giggled.

“You know the rules, princess.” Henry sighed, brushing her hair from her face softly. “Now get some rest. We all love you.”

~*~

“Did we wait long enough? Do I still look like a slob?” Faye fretted, turning this way and that, her eyes fixed on her lower stomach, trying to see if it still protruded further than she wanted.

“Faye, relax. You look amazing.” Her sister assured, turning her away from the mirror. Briar was happily running in circles with her little flower basket, all too excited to be involved in the affair. Her twin sister was in a beautiful, blue floor length bridesmaid dress, her younger sister in a matching shorter dress and her brother struggling with the matching tie.

“Are you ready to marry?” Her mother asked her giddily, squeezing her daughter’s hand softly.

“I am. I really hope he is too.” Faye replied, stealing a glance at the closed door.

“Oh please, he was ready to marry you the first time he saw you.” Her brother scoffed, finally taming his tie into something passable. “You’ve been killing the poor guy making him wait this long.”

“I didn’t want to get married while I was pregnant.”

“I really don’t think he would have cared.” Her youngest sister pointed out. “He seems pretty convinced the sun shines out of your ass.”

“Hear that, Delilah?” Her brother jumped in, setting his teasing eyes on his sister. “Get you a man that looks at you the way Henry looks at her.”

“It’s the same way you look at pizza.” Their sister added.

“I’ll find someone when I want to.” Delilah grumbled, shooting her younger siblings a glare out of the corner of her eye.

It took the effort of three people to hold Briar back once the music started, all desperately explaining that she was going to be almost last to go. Once the time came, she threw all her flower petals on the ground at the start of the runner and then sprinted down to the other end while laughing wildly. It was deemed that was close enough and it was finally Faye’s turn to walk the aisle.

Her father’s arm was a steady, comforting constant, something she desperately needed in that moment. She could swear she saw a small tear forming in the corner of her husband-to-be’s eye, but mostly his face was one of proud surprise.

Niki was elected to hold the ‘ring bearer’ the baby happily drooling all over the ring box he was allegedly in charge of. The photographer went nuts with pictures when Henry gently pried the box from his son’s chubby fist, removing the ring from inside and handing him the box back to chew on.

The couple stared into each other’s eyes, everything else melting away in that moment as they both closed a chapter in their lives, only to begin a brand new one they hoped would be filled with adventure with two simple words.

“I do.”

Tags: @weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @lharrietg @amberangel112 @mansaaay @packerfan43

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #guys like you #guys like you fic

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catsofcalifornia · 3 years ago

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Silverado from Mission Meow Cat Rescue in Rocklin, California

Click here for more information about adoption and other ways to help!

Click here for a link to Mission Meow Cat Rescue’s main website.

It’s the little surprises that come out of nowhere when you least expect it that immediately find a warm place in your heart… Meet Silverado. While feeding my neighborhood kitties in the early hours of a cold winter morning, this charming little guy came out of the darkness of a briar patch and introduced himself to me. Once Silverado approached I easily picked him up and immediately I could hear him purring. I was not expecting to find this very friendly little guy, I didn’t have a carrier to transport him home. So, I took a chance and simply put him in the cab of my truck. From there, he walked around the interior for a few minutes and finally came to rest on the passenger seat for the ride home. He was very comfortable and relaxed this whole time. It’s like Silverado - and now he is ready to find his forever home Characteristics: - Playful as many kittens his age - Sticks close to me yet is social with other cats he just met - Loves to sit on my chest taking a nap - Curious. Likes to investigate confined areas - Beautiful amber eyes - Healthy. Beautiful soft coat. And yes…. He like to be around me. If I go far or out the door, he looks around and meows. In addition to helping with the dryer, he’s now helping checking out the contents of the refrigerator. He jumps on the ledge and looks in. Have to be careful closing the door He has extremely soft fur and his markings are very unique. He has a beautiful white chest and paws. The top of his body begins with solid silver then blends into very subtle tabby stripes that flow to his bushy tail He likes the activities in the kitchen. He’ll rub between my feet letting me know he is there. When the dishwasher or refrigerator door is open, he likes to take a peak inside He does not venture far from me and likes some attention. He’ll follow me throughout the house as I go from room to room. When I step outside door, he stands there waiting and if I am gone too long I can hear him meow He enjoys to be picked up and pet and loves it when I sit down on the couch. He’ll come over and make himself comfortable and sit all curled up on my chest for a quick nap. Apply now to make Silverado yours! He has not been exposed to dogs or kids so we do not know how he would do. He has perfect litterbox habits.

#cats #california #rocklin #adoption #adoptnotshop

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iboughtaplant · 3 years ago

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Honey, You’re Familiar Like My Mirror Years Ago

Prompt: Loss of Powers

Relationship: Eskel/ Geralt

Rating: T

Warnings: no warnings apply

Summary: Eskel is a witch and he is in love with his familiar, Geralt. It only takes them both temporality losing their powers for him to admit it.

Second prompt fill for the @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

Read it on AO3

Eskel was hunched over his work table, working intently on figuring out the ingredients for some spell or potion. Geralt, in his cat form, walked across the window sill and hopped down onto the wooden counter, sauntering across the herbs and papers Eskel had laid out. He rubbed his body against Eskel’s forearms and Eskel finally lifted his eyes to look at his familiar. He immediately huffed out a laugh when he saw the dirty state of Geralt’s soft white fur.

“Have you been wrestling with the neighbor’s barn cats again?” Eskel asked Geralt. In response the familiar just daintily started licking one of his white paws.

“I think you might need an actual bath with soap and water. I have more of that grapefruit and bergamot soap you like so much.”

Geralt agreed with a mrrow and Eskel scooped him up into his arms. With Geralt in his arms, Eskel walked to the bathroom and turned on the tap to fill the tub. The tub filled up quickly aided by Eskel’s magic.

Eskel placed cat Geralt into the bathtub full of steaming water. Once in the water, Geralt shifted into his human form and leaned his arms on the edge of the tub, looking up at Eskel with his golden eyes.

“Help me wash my hair?” Geralt asked in his rumbling voice. It always reminded Eskel of how he purred when in his cat form.

“Of course,” Eskel said as he sat on the floor next to the tub. He pushed the sleeves of his maroon sweater up to his elbows and gathered his own hair up into a knot to keep it out of the way.

They both knew that Eskel could magic Geralt’s hair clean, but Geralt loved physical affection in any way and Eskel loved being able to care for Geralt. Eskel also loved the feeling of Geralt’s long, white hair in his hands.

Geralt leaned back and let Eskel leisurely wash his hair, humming every now and then as he relaxed in the warm water.

When Eskel was done washing Geralt’s hair, he did however magic his hair dry and quickly braid it knowing how much Geralt hated feeling his wet hair on his neck. He then climbed to his feet and left Geralt to finish his bath with some privacy.

Geralt turned to look at Eskel as he got up, for a cat shifter he was really good at giving Eskel puppy dog eyes. “You can stay,” Geralt said. “You know I don’t mind.”

“I have some salves and balms I need to finish making.”

“Alright,” Geralt said, a bit dejectedly. He picked up the bar soap and a washcloth as Eskel moved to the door. “Thanks for the soap,” Geralt said before Eskel walked out of the bathroom door.

“Anytime,” Eskel said. They both knew he only made that scent of soap especially for Geralt.

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

When Eskel left the bathroom, he pressed his forehead to the closed bathroom door and let out a breath before going back to his work table in the kitchen. He did have some unfinished salves and balms he could work on, but it wasn’t urgent. It was an excuse. He couldn’t stand to be so close to Geralt and not be able to tell him just how he felt.

Eskel didn’t think he would ever tell Geralt that he not only loved him, but was in love with him. But that was the thing. Was Eskel truly in love with Geralt? Or was it just their bond playing tricks on him? He didn’t want to take advantage of Geralt like that. He was Eskel’s familiar. It was a sacred bond and Eskel was beyond lucky to have Geralt in his life. But that didn’t mean he was in love with him.

Eskel kept thinking about it while he finished making the salves and balms—he figured he might as well follow through with the excuse he made. The thoughts of what Geralt was to him continued to plague him as he switched over to making dinner for the two of them.

He chopped the vegetables and prepared the meat before grabbing two pans out of the cupboard and placing each on a burner. He then lit the flames under the stove burners with a flick of his hand. He added oil and tossed the vegetables in once the oil was heated, satisfied by the sizzle the vegetables made when they made contact with the oil. He left them in the pan to cook while he seared the seasoned meat in the other pan.

Once the steak was cooked he let it rest on a plate. He washed his hands and wiped them on the tea towel thrown over his shoulder. He grabbed bowls and cutlery from the cupboard to set the small table in the corner by the window.

Once the table was set, he realized he had forgotten to make the rice. So he grabbed a pot, added the rice and water and set it on a burner. He waited for it to come to a boil before putting the lid on. He then muttered an incantation to speed up the cook time. He enjoyed the process of cooking and only sped up the cooking process when he needed to.

Before he knew it, the smell of food had lured Geralt out from wherever he had been in their small house. Geralt waltzed into the kitchen on silent feet, but Eskel knew when he entered, their bond ensured it. He was in his human form since they were about to eat, and only wearing a pair of linen pants and a tank top.

Geralt didn’t really like wearing clothes. He wore them when he had to, but Eskel had gotten used to him preferring to wear as little as possible and often shifting into his cat form. It meant that Eskel was mostly desensitized to Geralt’s nudity. It also meant that he constantly found piles of Geralt’s clothing around the cottage, and sometimes outside of the cottage.

“Thank you for making dinner, it smells delicious.” Geralt said once he slinked into his chair across the table from where Eskel had seated himself in his own chair. Geralt got himself situated, sitting sideways and pulling one knee up to his chest while he stretched his other leg out to knock his foot against Eskel’s feet. Geralt’s foot, clean from his recent bath, against Eskel’s feet, dirty from always walking around without shoes on.

“Of course.” Eskel said with a smile as he pushed his feet into the touch of Geralt’s. He liked making dinner for them both and being able to provide for Geralt.

Their dinner was the same as always with them chatting and teasing each other. Eskel was glad that everything felt normal, despite how flustered he felt earlier. He just focused on being happy in Geralt’s presence and tried not to think about how he wanted more. He pushed down the butterflies in his stomach as he pushed his food around on his plate.

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

The next morning, Eskel loaded up the big wooden crate strapped to the back metal rack of his faded red bicycle. Numerous glass jars and bottles containing various salves, balms, and herb mixtures. He also had two new batches of soap that he made—not the grapefruit and bergamot though, he saved all of those bars for Geralt.

He made sure to weave rolled up tea towels between the glass bottles to keep them from clinking against each other as he rode into town to the market.

He sold his wares, both magical and mundane, at the weekly market held in the center of the tiny town his cottage was on the outskirts of. He was the only witch within miles, so his products were often in high demand.

He just finished making sure everything was secure when a white blur raced past him and jumped into the smaller crate strapped to the bicycle’s handlebars.

He turned to stare at the cat in the crate, and then looked at the pile of clothes on the ground a few feet away. “Really?” He asked. “Why even bother getting dressed then?”

Geralt just stared at him before curling up in the crate. Eskel rolled his eyes fondly as he walked over to Geralt’s discarded clothes and picked them up. He walked back over to the bicycle and shoved Geralt’s clothes into the crate next to him.

Geralt looked up at him as if offended.

“Well you’ll need clothes if you decide to shift back. We can’t have you scandalizing anyone again.”

Eskel then slung a leg over the bike, flicked up the kickstand, and pushed off to ride down the dirt road to the market.

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

“What did you fall into? You smell absolutely foul,” Eskel said as he backed away from his familiar who was seated on the window sill. His white fur was a disaster, a few briars stuck to it in addition to the general dirt and grime. But the worst was the smell. He knew Geralt couldn’t be enjoying it either.

But his attempt to jump into Eskel’s arms proved that he must have purposely made a mess of himself to justify a bath. Not that him taking a bath needed to be justified. But Eskel knew that his familiar enjoyed the routine of Eskel dumping him into the bath in his cat form and then washing his hair once he shifted.

“Alright, fine, I’ll play along. Come on, I’ll start the bath.” He picked up Geralt under his front legs and held him at arm’s length instead of curled to his chest like he normally would, he really did stink.

Once in the bathroom, Eskel maneuvered so he could turn on the tap before magicking the water to fill quicker than it could have on its own.

Once the tub was full, he deposited Geralt into the water. But his familiar didn’t shift into his human form like he normally would. It was worrisome, but Eskel figured Geralt was just messing with him or wanted privacy before shifting. It was unusual but not uncalled for.

Eskel turned to leave, he had his hand on the doorknob when Geralt meowed one of the most pitiful meows he had ever heard. It caused Eskel to instantly turn around and look at Geralt. The cat shifter looked afraid. Still in his cat form, sitting in the warm bath water.

“What’s wrong, Geralt?” Eskel asked, kneeling down on the floor by the tub. “Not feeling well? I mean there was that one time a few years ago when you got sick from drinking that potion you thought was tea and were stuck in your human form for a week. Do you think this is like that?”

All Eskel got in response was another scared mrrow, as Geralt’s eyes looked even more panicked. And that was the thing about shifters. While Geralt might shift into a cat, he was not actually a cat. While he couldn’t speak while in his animal forms he still retained all of his human thoughts and feelings. His eyes showed his emotions and he was able to communicate with Eskel a bit through their bond.

It worried Eskel even more that he could feel the worry rolling off of Geralt.

“Are you trying to shift right now?” Eskel asked.

Geralt meowed the affirmative.

“And it’s not working?”

Another affirmative meow, though it sounded even more dejected.

“We’ll figure it out. But first let’s get you clean. I can still wash your hair, well I guess fur in this case,” Eskel said as he pet Geralt’s wet fur.

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

Once Geralt, still in cart form, was clean and dry he followed Eskel into the living room/library. Geralt hopped up on an armchair and then onto the bookshelf as Eskel flitted around pulling books off of the shelves and flipping through their pages.

“There has to be something about familiars being stuck in their animal form. I mean, you can’t be the first this has happened to, right?” Eskel asked even though he knew he wouldn’t get much of an answer out of Geralt. He was taciturn at the best of times in human form and sometimes, on a normal day, shifted into animal form if he wasn’t up for talking.

So he was sure that being stuck in cat form was not fun for Geralt even if he knew his familiar loved being in his animal form. Eskel figured that having the choice of being able to shift taken away from him was not something Geralt—or any familiar for that matter—would be happy about.

Eskel eventually sat down on the rug, books spread out around him as he took notes and tried to see if there was any useful information. He found a few tidbits of information, but nothing that seemed conclusive.

He was ready to chuck a book at the wall in frustration, when Geralt padded over and delicately plopped himself down in Eskel’s lap. He curled up and started purring. Of course Geralt was still able to read Eskel’s moods, in this case his rising panic and frustration, and came to comfort him.

Eskel pet Geralt’s soft white fur and took a deep breath. He felt himself calm down a bit. He continued petting Geralt with one hand and he flicked through the pages of a few more books with the other.

Eskel was exhausted and he knew he should eat or at least drink something, but he was not about to disturb Geralt asleep in his lap. His familiar was curled up in a tight ball and purring in his sleep.

He flicked his hand, focusing on the tea kettle in the kitchen to have it warm up water on its own. Another flick to add a tea bag to a mug before he had the mug full of tea hover into the living room, plucking it out of the air and taking a sip.

He then set it down next to his knee and went back to sifting through book pages in search of answers.

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

Eskel jerked out of the daze he had fallen into when he felt Geralt stand up in his lap and stretch. There was no longer any sunlight streaming in through the windows, just the faint light of the waning moon. Eskel grunted as he felt how stiff his body had become from sitting in the same position for so long.

Following Geralt’s lead, he stretched his arms and neck. He reached for his mug of tea knowing it had long gone cold, but he knew a quick flick of it hand would bring it back to steaming.

When he raised the mug to his lips the tea was warm, but nowhere near the temperature he had been aiming for. “I really must be tired,” he mumbled as he still drank the warmed tea.

He flopped back onto the floor from his seated position, bringing Geralt with him to rest on his chest. He sighed. “Guess we should get up and go to bed huh? Try to research some more in the morning,” he squinted to look at the clock on the other side of the room, “well, later morning since it’s already 2 am.”

Geralt kneaded Eskel’s chest a few times, then stretched again before getting up and walking down the hallway. Eskel took that as his cue to get off of the floor and follow.

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

The next few days followed a similar pattern as Eskel kept researching and even reached out to a few other witches he knew to see if they had any ideas of information. One day he even rode his bicycle—of course with Geralt seated in the front basket to come along for the ride—to the library in town and pursued the minuscule section of magical texts that they had.

It of course ended up being a bust, since the tomes they had were ones he owned and had already looked through.

Eskel sighed when he exited the library. He felt defeated and he was no closer to figuring out how to help Geralt shift again. He did smile a bit when he came across a young girl petting Geralt where he still rested curled up in the bicycle basket, despite the crooked angle as the bike rested on its kickstand.

He smiled at the girl as he walked closer and she smiled back before running off to join her mom who was calling her from the library entrance.

Eskel smiled down at Geralt, and gave him a few pets himself. “Nothing new,” he said to his familiar. “Looks like we should just head back home and maybe I can try some of those potion recipes I found in the back of that one book. Can’t hurt to try right?”

Geralt meowed in what Eskel took as agreement. It felt like it was getting harder to read Geralt’s responses.

He gave Geralt a last scritch under his chin before swinging a leg over the bicycling and heading down the long dirt road towards home.

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

Of course their leisurely ride home was interrupted when Eskel crashed the bicycle out of nowhere. It wasn’t much of a crash to be honest. More like the wheel got caught on something and the balance was thrown off.

Geralt was smart enough to leap out of the basket and onto the ground as the bike started careening and Eskel landed on his side on the dirt ground with a solid thump, the bicycle in a heap next to him.

He groaned as he sat up on the ground, resting his head on his knees in frustration. He felt soft fur brush against his arm and raised his head from his knees.

“Geralt, are you all right?” Eskel asked as he drew the cat close to him and checked over his feline body for any injuries. Finding none, he left out a sigh of relief. “It would have been just my luck to be responsible for you getting hurt while I am already responsible for you being stuck as a cat.”

Geralt just nudged his head against Eskel.

“I’m fine,” Eskel replied. He then got to his feet and examined his bicycle laying on the ground. He bent over it and examined it for damage before focusing on the front wheel.

There was a hole in it. Well, more a tear than just a hole. It must have gotten caught on something sharp in the road.

“Well, it’s nothing a little magic can’t fix,” he muttered. He flicked his hands towards the bicycle wheel intending for a patch on the tear to be created. But. Nothing happened.

He tried again and still nothing. He had never had his magic fail on him before. It must be the stress and exhaustion getting to him he figured.

He looked to Geralt, who just blinked up at him from where he was sitting, waiting.

Eskel groaned, he had been doing a lot of frustrated groaning lately. He ran his hands through his hair and then looked at the bicycle and then back at Geralt.

“I guess we’re walking home.”

He righted the bicycle and leaned it against his legs as he bent over to pick up Geralt. HE cradled his familiar in one arm while he used his other hand to hold the bike’s handlebars to walk it down the long road home.

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

A couple more days passed and Eskel could confirm that it wasn’t just stress and a lack of sleep, his power was truly gone. He felt a bit helpless even though he had never been one to rely too heavily on magic. Not that it meant much when not having access to his magic made him feel like a part of his soul had been ripped out.

But it was fine. He was managing. But he couldn’t stop thinking about it and about how he was now useless. He could no longer use his magic to try and find a solution to Geralt being stuck in his cat form.

What a sorry pair they made: a witch who lost his powers and a familiar that couldn’t shift.

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

Eskel felt like was just going to wither away, like his plants on the windowsill that were in various states of wilting as he hadn’t had the motivation to bother tending to them.

He almost felt more tired now that he had been when he was staying up all hours and frantically searching for answers. It was as if not using his powers was making him weaker.

He also observed how Geralt had started acting more and more like a normal cat. He didn’t really feel like Geralt anymore. He hated the water when Eskel tried to give him a bath again, hoping that it would calm him. He also hunted field mice and left them outside the front door, something Geralt had never done before.

And he let Eskel pet him less, even if he did still like being held. Eskel knew Geralt was still behind those golden eyes, but he felt further and further away.

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

Eskel was tired, well actually he was exhausted. He never thought that not having his powers would drain him so entirely. But then again he never thought he would be stuck powerless.

He was sure most of the exhaustion was caused by worry and not the actual loss of his powers. He was worried because Geralt was also powerless. He was stuck in his cat form and unable to shift back. Eskel had never heard of a familiar being stuck in their animal form unable to control the shift.

It had been a little over a week now and they were both still stuck. Powerless and exhausted. Eskel spoke to Geralt as much as he always did when he was in his cat form, well more he figured since Geralt had solely been in his cat form since this all started. But there was less of a spark in those golden eyes he adored so much.

He was worried that Geralt wasn’t just stuck in his cat form, but was slowly becoming more cat than human. He wouldn’t be a witch without a familiar. But more than that, he wouldn’t be Eskel without Geralt.

Geralt was the best friend he had ever had and the most important person in his life. They were meant to spend their lives together. To grow old and live out their longer than human lifespans together.

Eskel was leaning his hands on the work table, looking at Geralt. Geralt who was standing on Eskel’s work table, all gleaming white fur and golden eyes amidst the detritus of Eskel’s research and potion attempts.

“I don’t know what else to do, Geralt. I don’t have enough chaos left to even try,” Eskel said as he could feel a lump forming in his throat and tears starting to streak down his cheeks.

“I don’t know what to do. And usually when that happens you’re there to help me realize that I do know. But you’re fading even more than I am and I’ve let you down. A witch is supposed to be able to take care of their familiar and I’ve failed at that.” Eskel said through tears still trailing down his face.

Geralt mrrowed and Eskel looked at him, only feeling even more tears and snot on his face.

He picked up Geralt and cradled him in his arms. HE had no idea what else to do, but Geralt cuddling into him always helped ground him, whether he was in human or cat form.

Eskel rested his forehead against Geralt’s soft fur and felt himself calm at least a little bit.

He spoke again. “You are the most important thing in my life. I try to tell you, but I’m never sure if it’s enough.” He paused and took a deep breath. It was now or never and he was always told that love was one of the most powerful sources of magic.

Eskel let out his deep breath before whispering, “I love you Geralt, and I will always love you even if you are stuck as a cat forever. Even if I can never do magic again. Even if we both fade to nothing soon. I love you. And I am in love with you.”

He paused again. Hoping something would happen, but nothing did.

Eskel sighed. He looked down at Geralt in his arms. And in a last ditch effort, muttered “I love you” again and kissed the space between his pointed cat ears.

Still nothing happened and Eskel was sure was going to have a mental breakdown. He felt his body slump, his willing giving out.

Which is of course when something happened. One second he was holding Geralt’s small feline body to his chest and in the next he had a very human, and very naked Geralt in his arms.

“Geralt,” Eskel all but sobbed. He clung to the other man, moving his arms around Geralt’s back and leaned forward so that Geralt could sit on the counter. Eskel didn’t want to risk dropping him.

He leaned even further forward, pressing his nose into Geralt’s neck as Geralt wrapped his legs around Eskel’s waist.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” Eskel murmured into Geralt’s skin. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

“I’m right here. You didn’t lose me.” Geralt said in his rough voice. Eskel swore the fresh tears rolled down his face when he heard Geralt’s voice for the first time in more than a week.

Geralt moved his arms from where they were wrapped around Eskel’s sturdy shoulders and cupped his jaw, urging Eskel to look at him.

Their eyes met and Eskel swore he would be happy to drown in Geralt’s golden irises.

“I love you too, Esk.”

And Eskel felt yet even more tears, but this time happy tears. He had never cried this much in his life, but he supposed love made him weepy. Because that’s what it was: love. He was in love. And Geralt loved him back.

Once the shock of having Geralt back wore off a bit, Eskel realized that Geralt was still very very naked and sitting on Eskel’s work table, his legs still wrapped tightly around Eskel’s waist.

“You’re naked,” Eskel said with a giggle.

“You’ve seen me naked before. I’m almost always naked if we’re being honest.”

“Yes, but this time you are naked in my arms and we love each other.”

“We’ve always loved each other,” Geralt replied, affection coloring his voice and his gaze as he looked at Eskel.

“I know,” Eskel said. “And I was an idiot who didn’t want to admit to being in love. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to love me. Didn’t want you to think it was just because of our bond.”

“So what if it was?” Geralt asked.

“I didn’t want to force you. Or...take advantage of you.”

“You would never take advantage of me. Just because we have a bond doesn’t mean I don’t have free-will. And if the past week’s events are anything to go by, I think our bond is strengthened by our love.”

“You’re a sap,” Eskel teased.

“Takes one to know one.” Geralt said as he squeezed Eskel’s waist with his muscled legs and leaned in to kiss his scarred cheek and then his neck above the collar of his sweater. Eskel groaned before tilting Geralt’s chin up and placing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Can I kiss you?”

“You just did,” Geralt responded cheekily.

“You know what I mean, wiseass.” Eskel said as he gently pinched Geralt’s thigh wrapped around him.

They both laughed and then leaned forward at the same time, their lips meeting gently. It was the best kiss that Eskel had ever experienced.

One kiss turned into many, as their lips kept meeting each other. When their lips separated Eskel continued kissing Geralt’s soft skin. His jaw, his neck, his collarbone, his shoulder.

It was Geralt’s turn to groan. “Esk, mmm, can we take this somewhere else? Gonna have a permanent mark from the counter on my ass if we stay here any longer.” Geralt joked.

“Well we can’t have that,” Eskel said as he shifted a bit and gripped Geralt under his thighs to lift him off of the counter.

“So I can get you to carry me when in human form. Too heavy my ass.”

“I mean, there is a lot of it.”

“Bastard.”

“Hey, don’t press your luck, I could drop you.”

“You would never.”

“Only onto my bed.”

“You think you’re smooth now, huh?” Geralt asked teasingly.

“Well I do have a gorgeous naked man in my arms, so something worked.”

“That something being a magical intervention in the form of us temporarily losing our powers to sort our shit out.”

“So you admit it worked out.”

Geralt nipped his ear and then spoke directly into it, “Just make love to me already.”

“Of course,” Eskel said, gently dropping Geralt onto his bed. “I’d love nothing more.”

#the witcher #gereskel #eskel/geralt #witcher rarepair summer bingo #the witcher fanfiction #eskel #geralt of rivia #my writing #my fanfic

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snow--blanket · 4 years ago

Text

stream and deer

commissioned by @nyktoon-in-otomeland!

word count: 4028

fandom: ikemen sengoku

characters: kennyo, ishikawa reika ***

There was an old library, south of the forest in Sekihan, and the path there was cobbled and staggering. It depended on who you asked—the widows of soldiers in the past war believed the road was formed by the steps of the Gashadokuro, a skeletal giant that was made from the bones of a thousand fallen men. The ones that hung holly above their doors believed it to be the paw prints of black cats, leading you astray from the crooked road back home.

Kennyo believed differently.

He believed that the wayfarers that had found their way to the boundary between forest and field were looking for something new. Something troubling. They were waiting for a rise in the tide, the grey of smoke and storm that christened the air in the midst of a hail of bullets. They were not looking for something pretty.

They were looking for a reckoning. They were looking for change, and change was what Kennyo needed.

So he made himself steady through the forest, following the path of small stones that dug through his worn down sandals, and the road to the library was so narrow it could hardly be called one. It was more like a small alley, and the thorns pricked him red and stole threads of his sleeves as he walked. Kennyo realised that if he were ambushed in the forest, he could not get out. He was a soldier walking to his death, slowly watching his comrades being killed one by one, lined up and ripe for murder.

He grit his teeth. Murder is what kept him walking, so he did not mind if he died. Still, it should not be here, where so many of his brothers have gone without tombstones to mark their graves.

Kennyo reached the library by the one hundred and fifty-eighth tap, and the library itself was a fairly small thing, like a silo used to store grain. He remembered a soldier that came from the inner town saying that the libraries there were the length of more than a hundred arm spans. This one had no room for Kennyo to walk around the sides or behind, shielded by the thorny wood. He remembered the sight. He'd seen it before.

The library of Sekihan was a heart and the forestry was its ribcage. He knew he was at the right place.

Kennyo walked to the front door, ignoring the foggy windows and the rusty knocker, corroded by time and air and rain. There were no flowers around the library, only the browning summer grass.

When he entered the library, he was surprised by the fact that he didn't cough. In fact, as he looked around his surroundings, the library was quite well kept—only a few books strewn on a table, but the floor was not dusty as he had expected. When he took off his sandals and walked on the wooden floorboards, it was smooth, no layer of dirt for him to wipe off his sole. The lighting in the library, however, was inconvenient. His only source of light was the evening sun filtering through the trees outside and passing through the greyed lens of glass.

Kennyo walked to the bookshelves, looking for a title to catch his eye. His hand landed on the spine of a purple book, foiled with golden stripes. The title read, 'The Magic of Exchanges'. Surely this must be it.

He removed the book from the shelf, but just as he was about to open it, a voice spoke: “I'd prefer it if you knocked next time.”

Kennyo's heart jumped in his chest, and he turned around to see a woman standing from her seat at a table, a book laid open. She rubbed her eyes and walked over to him. The woman stopped in front of him, then took the book from his hands. He was too surprised to react aptly, and for some reason he blushed beside himself.

The woman went ahead and placed the book onto the shelf once more, then turned to look at him. “What is it you need?”

He wasn't sure whether it was the filtered light passing through the foliage that made it seem like her eyes were star-scaped. He couldn't discern the colour of her eyes clearly, but her skin was the colour of the maple branches, and her kimono was a light blue. He blinked at that. “The book.”

The woman sat down in a chair, and then dipped a brush on an inkstone, writing on the pages of the open book. She hummed. “And for what reason?”

Kennyo's brows were tight in a low snarl. “Not something you need to know.”

She sighed. “This is my library. Every book belongs to me.”

Kennyo's legs already began to move, and in an instant, he pressed a blade to her throat. “I didn't ask.”

Her eyes met his own, and then they wandered down to his other hand that was free. She hummed. “Reika.”

“What?”

“My name is Reika. It's the name you will remember me by once you've killed me.” She stood up and walked slowly towards him, and it was then that he realised her eyes were not honey sunset or the orange from a lantern light, but dark as soil. Even though he was the one holding a weapon, the more she stepped closer, the farther he retreated, until they were both no longer doused in the evening light, dipped in darkness.

He could do this. He had killed before. He would do it again.

And yet, the more he pressed the cold steel to her skin, the more doubtful he felt. Kennyo could not take his eyes off of her. He did not try. He tried to say something kind—to make it quick, maybe?—but his tongue froze in his mouth and his words were robbed off him. Foolishly, he said this: “I will not apologise.”

“I don't expect you to,” Reika said, and her eyes wandered to his hand again. He only now realised that he had been drumming his palm with his fingers, a habit born out of anxiousness. “But it's not wise to lie to me.”

Kennyo opened his mouth to protest, but before he could, her hand had pushed his knife away, and his mouth was agape as he watched the small dribble of blood trail down her fingers. Without realising, he had lowered his blade, eyes widened as he saw that the skin where her cut formed chipped off and flaked to the ground like brittle splinters. “Who are you?”

She smiled, and then bowed in a curtsy. “I'm Reika, the tsukumogami of the library, and keeper of the wisdom you seek. And you?”

“Kennyo,” he uttered honestly, belatedly. “A…”

Demon?

“Traveler,” he said. It would do for now. “I'm a traveler.”

Her smile was edged, thorny like the woods. “And do all travelers carry weapons these days? I must have been asleep for quite some time.”

“It is a dangerous world.”

Reika's eyes glanced at the blade in his hand. “It certainly appears that way.” She looked back at him. “So what, pray tell, are you planning to do with the book?”

Kennyo opened his mouth to let the lies fly out like locusts, but he found himself speaking the truth. “I will make myself a monster.”

She regarded him, a sort of understanding sinking into her eyes like stone. As if she has had this conversation a hundred times with a hundred different people. “And whose monster will you be?”

His tongue thawed, and his words came easy and abrasive like sand. “Oda Nobunaga.”

She was quiet. There was no way she hadn't heard the name before. “I'll grant you permission on one condition,” she said. “That you speak truth.”

He considered this. “And when will I receive it, if I do?”

“Whenever I deem you fitful.”

Kennyo gnashed his teeth. Nobunaga's march east would be in three weeks time, so he could only make sure to gain his powers as a demon within that time frame to avoid any more reckless deaths. “In two and a half weeks,” he said. “If you do not deem me fitful then, I will burn this library to the ground.”

She was a tsukumogami, and her spirit resided in the library, tying herself to the same thread. Burning the books was as good as killing her. If he could not make her bleed, he would make her disappear.

Reika smiled. “I don't think you'll need the book to be a monster, then.”

“I will need to be a stronger monster than him,” Kennyo spat out the words like poison.

She hummed, appraising him with… something he could not recognise. Reika turned away from him, tidying up the books on the table. “Come again tomorrow,” she said.

Kennyo nodded, and then left the library. When he arrived home, he asked a village woman about hexes to ward off impurities. The old woman was somewhere in her late forties or early fifties, her wrinkled face stretched like cloth that had gotten loose from use. She had a mother's disposition, taking care of many animals, as well as parenting a lot of the village children. Although she had her own name, everyone called her such.

The old woman hunched over her small, damp, kitchen and tied rosemary and basil leaves together with butcher's twine, and then wrapped it in a small white cloth. She gave it to Kennyo, who uttered his thanks as he slipped it into his kimono. “Are you going somewhere far again?”

“No.” Not now, at least. Kennyo lightly bumped her out of the way, picking up the ladle that still had the remnants of soup. He began his mindless work of tidying up her kitchen, as it often was messy after supper for the kids. “How is…” His voice caught on his throat like the briars had on his sleeves. “How is he?”

The old woman started to stack up the dirty plates, hovering around the table so worriedly it truly gave justice to her title. “The usual. He asked you where you went, but that's about it.”

“I see.”

They were both silent after that, and Kennyo made himself sparse and went home after the old woman had sent him off with rice balls filled with anchovy and pickled plum. When he bathed, the nicks the thorns had made on his arms and legs stung red under the rush of water. There was magic there, he realised. His wounds looked like the sun spots behind his eyelids, a dizzying flower. It'll be worth it, he thought. The pain would be worth it.

He woke up early the next day and ate the half of the pickled plum rice ball, giving half of it to the little boy that was drawing circles on the dirt. Kennyo simply patted his head and said "you need to grow up strong and healthy", smiling as he did so.

“Like you?”

His smile faltered at that. “Even stronger.” I will need to be a stronger monster than him. Kennyo hoped that the words would not echo.

When he arrived at the library again, the narrow path seemed to have widened a bit—now it was not squeezing him like a tied coin purse, but it was as if he was in the kitchen with the village mother, working elbow to elbow. The curtains were drawn fully to let the afternoon glare enter. Even without lanterns, it seemed to be brighter than before.

She greeted him with a smile. “Hello.”

He nodded, and then sat on a chair, all stiff shoulders like he was going to war. “Begin,” he said.

She laughed at that. “If you say so.” She sat near him after she pulled out a green book from the shelf. She pushed it across the table in front of him. “Read.”

“Are you making fun of me?” Kennyo's voice was a low growl.

Reika did not respond to his heat with fire. Instead, her voice was a slow stream from the mountains, ever-enduring. “Not at all.” This, she said without smiling. “Why do you wish to be a demon?”

“So I can kill—” Her gaze silenced him. Speak truth. “So I can avenge my fallen brothers.”

She hummed, then took out a yellow book he'd seen her write on before. She dipped her brush in the inkstone once, and then drawled across the empty pages in fluid motions. “And you think killing Nobunaga will do such a thing?”

“Not at all.” He thought even death was too easy for the devil of the sixth heaven. “But if—” he stammered, “but if it will give them some semblance of peace, then I will do it.”

She stopped her writing, tore out a page to squeeze the ink out of her brush, then put it down. “I'm going to give you something,” Reika said, and pulled out a green book. She flipped open the pages until she stopped at one page, and then a round lumpy object surfaced from the papers, like dead bodies in a lake. Kennyo's eyes widened. She took the object and put it in his hands. It was light, and smooth. Like a small rock that had been polished clean.

He blinked at her incredulously. “What is this?”

She walked past him and closed the yellow book, then nudged it into the bookshelf. When her eyes met his, there was something there. Pinecones and fallen leaves. Like she had seen death without stepping foot on a battlefield. “It's what you are looking for.”

“I am looking for power,” he said, and he almost felt ridiculous. As if speaking it into existence had somehow dulled the scent of gunpowder and burnt embers.

Reika shook her head. “You're looking for hatred,” she said so kindly, “And that is what hatred is.”

Kennyo looked at the rock in his hands, eyes narrowed in puzzlement. This thing was supposed to help him kill Nobunaga? The man who had both the forces of the nine-tailed kitsune and the fierce loyalty of a man turned servant? He couldn't understand it well.

When he tried to prod further, Reika simply smiled and then said goodbye, and he had the good sense to leave her alone after that.

Nine days passed, and the remnants of war returned in the middle of winter.

Kennyo did not visit Reika in that time—because of the ongoing skirmish (it was what they called it, but he digressed) near the village, the daimyo ordered for the soldiers to send any injured or dead to them. The air was thick with the scent of blood and pus. Kennyo had experience with bandaging and basic first aid treatment, so he was in charge of aiding the injured soldiers as well as teaching other young men how to do the same thing.

They managed to set up an area to lay the treated soldiers on a flat field that the children used to play in. Because the medicine was especially ineffective in the cold, they had used up every lantern and candle from the houses to warm the wounded men. The villagers did not complain, for they had gotten used to the chill of the mountains. Like sinners that had gotten used to hell fire.

One man whimpered, tugging Kennyo by his sleeve as he lay and groaned his pain. “Will I… live…?”

The man had part of his lower leg blown off by an explosion, and it was as if a wolf had bitten it off. A wolf would have been kinder. Kennyo was sure there was a way to save him, but he did not know how. All he knew was that if he decided to muffle his breathing with a pillow, it would end his suffering.

And wasn't that a sort of grace in itself?

“No,” he said. He would be a monster, but he would not lie. “But—” he gestured to the other men that lay beside him. “But they might.”

The man smiled. “That's all… I can ask for.” He exhaled, and his sigh was like smoke coming out of the wrong end of a gun. Kennyo looked away.

Because that's all you can afford to ask, Kennyo thought, but bit his words down until he felt blood.

When he was free, he walked to the village mother's house and went into another room with a bowl of gruel in hand. Kennyo's heart beat fast and heavy in his chest. He knocked at the wooden door, a hollow sound. “I'm coming in.”

There was no response, but he entered anyways, and nudged the door close with his leg. He put the bowl onto the small wooden table and then lifted it off the floor to be closer to the bed. Kennyo could hear his shallow breathing. “Have you eaten yet?” He sat on a nearby makeshift stool, a container for biscuits.

No answer. Just his pale eyes that stared at the walls. He had beauty, once. People fawned over him, and his hair that was lavender was now the colour of… rotting meat. Clever eyes that were like wisteria were always closed or looked at something that wasn't there, like a cat that could see ghosts. His beautiful features became wasted and hungry, his skin being pinched by his cheekbones that became more prominent as the days went by.

“Ranmaru,” Kennyo said gently. “You have to eat.”

Ranmaru did not answer. Kennyo hated that he'd forgotten what the sound of his voice was like. When he was happy, he was like a twittering songbird. When he was serious, his breath was steady and his voice rang with clarity. When he was sad…

When he was sad, he was silent, and that was the worst of all.

He only spoke to the village mother, but Kennyo did not chide him for that. People expressed grief differently. Kennyo felt his chest become heftier, like he was the crow that had drunk the rocks with the water. A foolish act.

Kennyo dragged his seat closer, and then spooned the gruel in front of his mouth. Ever since a small girl had come wandering into the room and stared agape at Ranmaru's lack of arms, no one else was allowed to enter aside from the village mother and himself. They had made up silly stories about a ghoul of some kind to ward off the children, and that was how Ranmaru lived. Like a gust of wind that could pass as the voice of a ghost.

When Ranmaru did not open his mouth to eat, Kennyo did not sigh. He returned the spoon to the wooden bowl and put it back on the table and stood up.

As he turned to leave, he felt something slip out of his robes. Kennyo looked at the floor and saw the small rock had escaped him. He crouched to pick it up, dusting it off before slipping it back into his kimono. He straightened, and opened his mouth to tell Ranmaru to rest well, but he did not speak.

For the first time in years, Ranmaru's eyes were alive and lit with disgust, his lips a pulled back snarl like a taut bowstring. “You too?” His voice was quiet and quivering, like a rabbit in a trap. “You're going to kill me too?”

“I don't—”

“Enough already!” When Ranmaru was happy, his voice was a twittering bird. When he was serious, his voice was a warhorn. When he was angry, his voice was a trembling string of a koto being strummed over and over and over until the fingers that played it had gone red and chafe with use. “Enough already… I know I'm already useless to you, Master Kennyo. I know I should die. I know that I can't help you with your goals anymore, and it'll probably be easier to kill me than to take care of me, but—!”

“No. No! You're not—I wouldn't do that to you.” He remembered the man at the tent. “I wouldn't do that to you,” he said.

“But someday you will!” Ranmaru shouted like the words had been ripped out of his mouth, from some part of him that knew the truth. That Kennyo was to be a monster, and he did not know where he stood between his fangs and his hatred.

Ranmaru started shaking, his body convulsing as his breathing started to pick up, shallow and quick and unsteady. Kennyo started to approach him, but Ranmaru whimpered. “Go away.” His eyes looked at him in fear. “Please, go away.” He closed his eyes shut and tears streamed down his face.

So Kennyo did.

He hoped something would make him stay; regret, compassion, kindness. But those could not be his tools as a monster. His human tongue had nestled in slumber behind his canine teeth. So he left, knowing that he did not deserve those half-hearted attempts at deriving the gold of his heart from the poison.

That night, Kennyo slept restlessly, and he thought about the sun spots the thorns had made on him and the look in Ranmaru's eyes. As if he feared him not for holding the gun, but as a volatile bullet in a chamber, waiting for direction and could erupt at a moment's notice. He was a monster at both ends.

The next day, Kennyo visited the library again, and strangely, he did not feel pain when the thorns pricked him. Like a sinner that had gotten used to hellfire indeed.

Without even a greeting, Kennyo laid down the stone on the table where Reika sat at and spoke. “What is this?”

Reika recognised the hurt that flashed in his eyes like fire flowers that were all too willing to burn. “It's a projectile from a canon that's called Ozutsu.”

“Why would you give me such a thing?” Kennyo could not help his frown.

“There are certain weapons that are banned from use, did you know? Because they cause unnecessary suffering.”

“What does that have to do with—” Speak truth. “I don't.”

“Well, where I come from, the leader of the country, so to speak, banned things like… poisonous gases and anything that could be used to set things on fire intentionally. They recognised that even in war, there were certain boundaries one must keep and self regulate on a constant basis, as to not misuse the power given to them to oppress the weak and harmless.”

This was truth. “Why are you telling me this?”

“To let you know that even if violence is the answer, it should not be wielded around carelessly, driven by rage.” Her eyes glittered, like there was gold amongst dirt there. “That people are always finding ways to lessen your pain even if they have to hurt you anyway. And you will not be exempt of that judgement.”

Kennyo did not growl fire like a dragon, but he whimpered like a whipped dog who did not know what he did wrong. “Violence is effective—”

“Violence is quick. It is not effective, nor is it efficient.” Reika exhaled, her breath fogging like the greyed lenses of the windows. “It is not as if I do not recognise what kind of monster Nobunaga is,” she said quietly. “But he is a kind of monster that can live with himself. He has gotten used to his claws and sharp teeth. You are…” She paused. “You are meant to be something else for this world.”

“I don't know how I can live as myself while other people are needlessly dying at the expense of my passivity.” He furrowed his brows, his anger spent at her rather naive way of looking at things.

Reika smiled, and it was the hint of something new, the smell of fern and lime and her eyes that did not shy away from his. A reckoning that started from a small stream. “I think you've forgotten. I am Reika, tsukumogami of the wisdom you seek.”

She took a green book from the shelves, and he'd recognised it before. She splayed the pages open and pushed it in front of him.

“Read.”

#ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen kennyo #ikesen writing #ikesen fanfic #commissions #ishikawa reika

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 6 years ago

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Hello, this is the cute tax collector. Can we please have pictures of animals?

Sure can, friend! Let me show you around Elanor Farm.

So first up, here are the bunnies! They’re the easiest tophotograph, because they stay still. They are friendly and good bunnies, thoughthey are slightly in trouble at the minute because they dug a tunnel into anadjacent chicken pen so chickens could get into their already-massive pen. Thisis a problem, because chickens kill grass, but the rabbits obviously could dowith some. Silly bunnies.

I think the one on the right is Damon Salvatore. The one onthe left is similarly named except I can’t remember which TV show or character.Neither is prone to murder, though.

Next: the fish. It is Impossible to take a good photo offish on a phone because they move and also reflections are a problem, so youend up with photos of shiny blurs half-obscured by the spectral image of yourown hands holding a camera. But I managed to take this one of the corner of thetank at feeding time.

They’re fish. Not much to say about fish, since they’re justa screensaver that can die; but, given my history, the fact that this is Day 3and none have died yet is impressive and newsworthy.

So, the chickens! At the start of the week I thought thechickens were Very Impolite, but I’ve grown to love and understand them. Theyaren’t impolite, they’re just all Lawful Evil. They have a routine and as longas we all stick to it it’s fine. They otherwise take care of themselves, prettymuch – I top up the feeders and open their shed door in the morning, they spendthe day free-roaming the garden, they take themselves indoors at sunset, Iclose the Fox Door. It’s a working system.

There’s a main flock, a sub-flock, and a maternity ward.Here is the sub-flock as I came to fill up their bowl this morning:

This is the main flock, investigating the rhubarb thatthey all made a beeline for once out:

And this is the best shot I could get of Mama Hen and herhighly mobile idiot child:

Which brings us, finally, to the Six Cats! Let me show youaround the room. We will start with this factually perfect being of divinegrace:

So this flawless and beautiful creature that has literallynever done a single thing wrong in his entire lives is Mwddrwg. I realise thatthis is a hilariously ironic sentence if you are a Welsh-speaker; ‘mwddrwg’ isa northern dialect word meaning a scamp or a scoundrel. He is a being of uniqueexquisite feline perfection. Entire civilisations have risen on his worship; heis old now, but when he passes to Annwfn he shall be preserved in the stars foreternity. If I’m in the house, his greatest pleasure is to cwtch up next to me,far enough that I can do my thing, close enough that I can fuss him whenneeded. If he feels not enough fussing is happening, he will very gently andpolitely nudge my hand with his head. This led to me accidentally setting fireto Maven Black-Briar in a Skyrim run yesterday, but she’s a monster so he wasright to do it. If he sees me on my rounds while I’m outside, he will softlypad over to me and rub against my ankles. He is never demanding; always gentle,and loving, and so affectionate that he could take the hardest, coldest heartand keep it safe in his ancient, gentle paws.

This little bastard is Cadi:

Cadi is a kitten, found abandoned in Cadle Woods. She’s goodat looking innocent in this way but in reality she is an endless stomach onlegs. She’s a gannet; a glutton; a bottomless abyss for all the food she cansteal from the others and shovel down her gaping maw. She’s also desperate togo outside, so whenever I come back from the chickens I’m greeted by this:

She’s very affectionate, but it’s all an act to make hergive you food. She will literally just shove the bigger cats out of the way andsteal the food from their bowls if she can; gentle, loving Mwddrwg lets her,because he is a flawless and blameless creature of no faults. She does come forfuss and love a lot, but she’s easily distracted if no food is forthcoming, andoff she goes.

Next up: Mwydryn!

Mwydryn is very well-named because he is confused abouteverything all of the time. I have watched this cat walk into a table leg becausehe got distracted by something to his left and forgot to stop walking. He isthe full brother to Mwddrwg and the now-sadly-passed Math (who was, if you canpossibly imagine such a thing, the Best One Of All, even moreso than Mwddrwg;he was epochal), so he’s old now. He has become affectionate in his autumnyears; he’s still not a cat to while away hours on your lap, and he still likesto spend most of his time outdoors, but let’s put it this way: he was thehardest to photograph, because every time I put the camera near him heimmediately came to me for a fuss. This photo was taken the half-second beforehe turned and saw me, and came over.

He is lovely. Lovely Mwydryn.

Next up: Milicat! Mili was also a kitten rescued fromabandonment a few years back, like Cadi. Here’s the difference, though: Miliwas not a kitten rescued from abandonment. Mili was bought by my brother-in-lawand his girlfriend from Some Bloke Down Cardiff Market, but as they didn’t havea house or anything, they lied to my mother-in-law so that she’d pay all thebills. They then decided to breed from her, even though Mili is a moggy, andhas a very common coat pattern/colour, and had the sort of personality that youdon’t generally try to replicate, and also was at the time just… not built forkitten-bearing. Too scrawnily built.

Nevertheless. They had three kittens from her over twolitters. Let that sink in. Her first litter was a litter of one, so incapablewas she of carrying to term.

Anyway, the one advantage is that motherhood did change herfor the better in two ways: for one thing, she’s now filled out, and almostlooks like a proper cat size and shape. More importantly, though, she’s nolonger stand-offish and scared of everything. Don’t get me wrong, she’s stillnot, you know, Mwddrwg (who is?), but she’s closer to Mwydryn – she comes for afuss if you offer it. She won’t ask for it, though.

Next is Moses! Moses is from Mili’s second litter. He isdeeply stupid, and kind of Mili’s twin in terms of personality; he’ll come forsome brief fussing if you offer it, but won’t ask. He also doesn’t come formeat food with the others, and just subsists on the dry food. I don’t know whythis is. You’d think cats would prefer meat? But no. Even if you put a bowlunder his nose, he just stares at it blankly until Cadi steals it.

He, too, is not allowed outside, and so likes to lurk hopefullyaround the door.

And last up, we have Madog.

Now, Madog came along because of what happened to Mili’sother kittens. Maxi, the eldest, was a wonderful cat; he was no Mwddrwg (whois?), but damn if he wasn’t close. Affectionate and gentle and loving, butyounger, and so with a zest for life. Manray was the full brother of Moses; hewas like Moses and Mili.

One year – maybe last year? – Maxi got run over two weeksbefore my brother-in-law’s birthday. Two weeks after his birthday, Manray got runover. It was a truly shitty birthday for the poor sod.

So two things happened: one, the younger cats – and allsubsequent cats – are now not allowed out (they’re going to build a sort of cataviary outside the door for them). Two, my brother-in-law bought himself Madog.

Madog is very beautiful. He’s a Russian Blue crossed with aNorwegian Forest Cat (although he just looks like a Russian Blue), so unlikethe others he’s not a moggy. I thought this would mean he would be likeMwddrwg, but he’s not (who is?). Instead, literally every time I’ve ever goneover there he’s fled at the sight of me. He’s as skittish as a racehorse. I’vehad to adopt the habit of humming as I move around the house, so he knows whereI am and can leave without getting cornered; if I see him in a doorway, I gothe long way round so I don’t accidentally chase him. He is not a fan of me.

… or wasn’t until last night when this happened:

This is the only photo I managed to get, because so much ofthis half-hour of Madog Time was spent with him walking onto may lap, settlingon me from lap to chest, and physically rubbing his entire head against myface, cheeks, nose and glasses to try and bond us together. This is the mostdesperate affection I have ever received from a cat. He’d settle for about halfan hour, then he’d leave, then 20 minutes later he’d be back and would startagain. Sometimes he’d stop rubbing my face and try to curl up next to me, butthat space was obviously taken by Saint Mwddrwg, so he’d just curl up on top ofMwddrwg in a ball of two cats (because Mwddrwg obviously just took it, and evenlicked him once or twice.)

After about two hours he wandered off, but now he’s finewith me. Slightly skittish if I move too quickly or loudly, still, and he takeshimself off if he wants alone time. But he no longer flees at my very presence,and if I offer him a fuss, he takes it. So that’s how I charmed a cat.

And that is Elanor’s farm.

Bonus pictures:

#animalia #long post #asks #anonymasks

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seasonofthegeek · 7 years ago

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Special thank you to @gabriel-fucking-agreste for this idea. You’re the real MVP. <3

Part 1, Part 2:

One Month before Just for Tonight

“You keep scratching at your neck,” Max noted, slipping his notepad back into his jacket pocket.

“Yeah,” Kim groaned. “I got something stuck in my fur and I thought it would go away when I shifted back but now I can feel it under my skin.” He rolled his shoulders with a grimace. “I asked one of the guys to help me get it but he told me to tough it out.”

“The things you’ve said about your packmates doesn’t make them seem friendly.”

“They’re not so bad.” Kim backed up until he hit a tree trunk and began to rub against it.

Max frowned, watching him. “So you can feel it even though it is on your wolf form?”

“Yeah. It’s kinda hard to explain but maybe it’s like my wolf is just under my skin? Like one of those action figures where you could flip the body inside out.” He put a finger to the back of his neck. “It’s here. When I’m a wolf it feels like it’s between my shoulder blades.”

Max craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse. “I think I see a protrusion.”

“Yeah, it freaking sucks. I just need someone to take it out, whatever it is.” Kim’s face brightened. “Would you? You know about shifters and stuff. I could just shift now and maybe you could find it and get it out of my fur?”

Max took a step back. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I should go.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Kim nodded, tone disappointed. “I guess just text me next time you need something.” He began to rub against the tree again and Max watched him.

“If I were to help you, could I ask for a favor in exchange?”

Kim paused. “Yeah, you could pretty much ask me for anything at this point.”

Max pursed his lips, hand dipping into his coat again to retrieve his notepad. “I’ve never gotten to study a docile wolf form up close. I would very much like to if it wouldn’t bother you.”

Kim grinned. “Yeah, man, that would be totally awesome. Study away, I guess.” He pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it to the ground. He reached for the button on his pants and Max coughed.

“Is that necessary?”

Kim looked up. “Well, yeah. If I try to shift in my pants, they’ll rip. I don’t want to go back home with no pants.”

“Oh, uh, of course,” Max nodded, slightly turning away to study the leaves of a tall bush.

Kim dropped his pants to the ground. “You know I won’t be able to talk, right? But, like, I can understand everything you say so you can talk if you want. Okay, here we go.”

Max turned in time to see fur begin to flow over Kim’s skin as he knelt down. He had only ever seen werewolves shift during a fight. He assumed that their transitions were always fast and explosive, bits of skin and body fluid flying out as their wolf form tore itself out of the human body. Kim’s was like a wave changing though. Within moments, the large gray wolf was dropping his bottom jaw, a long pink tongue lolling out.

Max stepped forward, reaching out with a gloved hand. He paused, his black leather glove dark against the soft gray. He pulled his hand back, peeling off the glove and tucking it into his jacket. Eyeing Kim’s large teeth as he stepped even closer, Max tentatively put his palm against Kim’s side. He hadn’t realized how tall Kim would be like this. Max reached up to touch the top of Kim’s back and the wolf made a chuffing sound as he lowered himself to the ground. He laid his head on his paws and waited patiently.

Kneeling down, Max bent over Kim, fingers gently searching in the fur between his shoulder blades. “Your fur isn’t what I expected. It’s not soft but it’s not coarse either.” He felt something sharp against the pad of his finger. “I think I’ve found the irritant. It feels like a briar. A large one. I’ll be as gentle as I can.” He began to pull on it and Kim let out a soft whimper but stayed still. Max furrowed his brows, leaning in closer to work. After a few moments, he pulled the large briar free, blood shining at the point. “It’s out,” he sighed in relief, throwing it back into the brush. “Can you feel anything else?”

Kim turned his large head to look back at him and then returned it to rest on his paws.

“I’m going to take that as a no,” Max nodded. “Would you mind if I examine you a bit? I’d like to make some notes.” He moved around so he could see Kim’s face and the wolf blinked at him with Kim’s golden eyes. They looked human enough on Kim but this was the face they truly belonged in. It made him wonder what color Kim’s eyes had been before.

Max swallowed thickly and opened his notepad, jotting down a few quick points about Kim’s transformation. Holding Kim’s gaze, Max lifted one of his large paws in both of his hands, turning it carefully. The nails were long and thick and the pad of his paw was rough from the forest floor. Kim’s gaze followed Max’s every movement, his paw staying limp in Max’s hold.

Max made his way around Kim, asking unanswerable questions aloud and making notes. He circled back around and sat at Kim’s shoulder, scribbling more observations down in a race against the sunlight. Kim finally butted his head against Max’s arm and yawned, jaw cracking and sharp teeth glistening in the setting sun. Max closed his notepad and returned it to his jacket. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “Sometimes I get caught up in something. Thank you for your time.”

He stood and Kim stood with him, dropping forward into a downwards stretch before straightening again and shaking out his coat. He let out a soft bark and then he was changing again, fur disappearing so lightly tanned skin could take its place. Max cleared his throat, turning away as Kim picked up his clothes.

Kim took his time pulling his pants up, keeping his eyes on Max’s back. “Sorry. I was just getting bored.”

“I appreciate the opportunity. I’ve never gotten to see a calm werewolf so close.”

Kim tilted his head. “But you’ve seen others?”

Max frowned, ignoring the question. “How’s your neck?”

“Sore but better. Thanks again.” Kim rubbed his hand along the back of his neck and made a show of stretching, enjoying catching Max’s gaze roam to his abs. “Can I maybe pay you back with dinner or something?”

Max straightened. “That won’t be necessary. Letting me see your wolf form was more than enough. I’ve never gotten to see any shifter like that.”

“Oh, man. You should totally ask Ivan to show you his. He looks badass as a bear.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Twilight had settled around them pleasantly and Kim finally pulled his shirt on. “Want me to walk you back to town?”

“I have my own means, thank you.”

“Oh, okay.” Kim scrubbed the toe of his sneaker against a patch of dirt. “So I guess until next time?”

Max wouldn’t meet his eyes before turning. “I’ll text you when I need you.”

Kim watched him disappear into the trees. “You always do,” he sighed.

Buy me a coffee?

#Just For Tonight #kimax

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captainderyn · 7 years ago

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“Let me help you!”

Thanks @delavairesslegacy for reading through this and easing a bit of my nerves regarding writing Anders :)

Look guys I can write something other than swtor and with an actual canon characters (gasps fill the room). I don’t do it often, because it terrifies me but here we are.

Spoilers for act III of DA2

Briar/Anders

It took mere minutes for the Viscounts hall to clear once the thrilling clang of sword on sword had faded into the tentative cheers of Kirkwall’s people and the silence of the qunari. The throng of citizens loosened from around Briar and the qunari retreated through the heavy oak doors in a grim line. Soon all that remained was Briar, leaning on her greatsword beside the hulking shadow of the Arishok and her companions, uneasily to break the strange calm that draped itself through the hall. Anders was the first to step forward, gripping her shoulders. He was…saying something, Briar could see his lips moving as she dragged her eyes from the mass of the Arishok to meet his eyes, lined at the sides and between his brows with worry.

Why he needed to worry was out of her reach, they…well, she on the basis of the fight alone, had just ended the qunari threat after all and hadn’t that been a major problem for years? And why were Varric and Isabela looking at her with wide eyes and frowns of that same worry?”

Taking her best guess at what Anders was asking her, though she truly hadn’t heard a word, she gave a small warding off motion with her hand. “I’m fine.”

If she actually focused Ander’s words too came into focus. “…sit down, please, and let me help you, you were–”

Oh..oh..he was worried about when the Arishok had caught her with his sword, she had heard him cry out for her, but it had just glanced off her armor. It must have, she didn’t feel like she had been caught by a sword. She said as much, shoving Anders’ forearm in an attempt to get his hand from her shoulder. “I’m fine, I feel fine.”

Everyone was still staring at her with that same uneasiness and worry, their eyes swimming in front of her. The intensity of their gazes felt like being watched by predators from the shadows and she wanted nothing more than to hide. No matter how many times she said –did she say it? Things were passing in odd pauses and skips, registering in one second and drifting out in another–that she nothing felt hurt and everything was great and could they please get out of the hall so that the fallen body of the Arishok could stop burning into her back, no one listened. Sure, her heart was still hammering erratically and her hands shook but that was just the adrenaline and exhaustion from a long fight creeping up on her.

“Anders,” Her voice snapped more than she intended and she forcefully softened her voice. “I’m alright, I promise.”

He didn’t have to offer any protest or proof that no, he was right–the fact that in the time she had been drifting in the waves of her swimming world he had most likely been able to pinpoint her injury or lackthereof thanks to healing magic notwithstanding–because seconds after the words fell from her lips her own body betrayed her, her world darkening stormily as her knees buckled.

“Damnit...stubborn…” She drifted back to the in between, catching on snippets of rather frantic words,a question of how far it was to her family’s estate, the sudden flare of pain in her side that hadn’t been there before before the storm clouds obscured the light and she sank into the depths.

When she returned it was quiet, the quiet with a distinct lack of voices with still holding familiar, ambient sounds. Deep, sleeping breaths, the soft crackle of logs burning in the fireplace. Before she opened her eyes she knew she was home and that she wasn’t alone. Her mabari’s head was heavy, if gently rested, on her stomach, a large paw propped across her thigh.

While her left hand rested just next to her mabari’s snout her right was warm, clasped between two hands rougher than her own. Anders. Coaxing her eyes open she brushed her forefinger against his palm, turning her head and blinking at him drowsily. Her voice took some coaxing as well to work and even then it was rough. “You’re allowed up here, you know that right? Just tell the dog to move.”

Anders looked exhausted even from her half lidded eyes, his face lined with worry and eyes glassy in a way that suggested very little sleep. He squeezed her hand, letting out a weary-above-all-else chuckle. “Of course that’s the first thing you say.”

“What…happened?” Briar lifted her hand, careful not to disrupt her sleeping hound, to rub across her tired eyes. Her mouth was dry as sand, her throat scratchy like she’d been out for a fair amount of time.

Anders seemed to read her thoughts, or more likely her expression shifted and he released her hand to reach for a glass of water on the side table, shifting to help her bring it to her parched lips. “There were a few times I thought you weren’t going to wake up. My magic healed the worst of the damage but…” His hand gently brushed a few loose strands of hair from her forehead. “You scared me..well, us. The others have been worried as well.”

“Even Fenris and Merrill?” Humor laced through her voice, she and Fenris never quite saw eye to eye–her refusal to turn her back entirely on mages was at the very base of their mere tolerance of each other– and that Merrill had been decidedly short with her since she had refused to encourage the use of blood magic and demons to repair her eluvian.

Her avoidance over acknowledging exactly what happened didn’t pass over Anders head and while he continued on with a barely-there smile he was still regarding her with that swirl of lingering worry and weariness. At her insistence he surrendered the glass of water entirely to her control. “Even Fenris and Merrill.” He added something under his breath that she only caught in part and she nearly choked on her sip of water.

“What was that?”

He was saved from repeating himself by the hound’s energetic awakening, finally picking up enough activity from his friend to warrant a greeting. While sweet and gentle with Briar as a whole the massive mabari was decidedly ungraceful outside of his wardog duties and flailed in his enthusiasm to get to Briar’s face, paw catching her across her abdomen where she at motion, was reminded that she had a still healing injury. She let out a pained yelp, flinching and Anders had to snatch the glass from her hand before she dropped it on her face, other hand shooting out to keep the over-enthusiastic hound at bay.

“Ares…” She wheezed, curled on her side, knees drawn close and arm around her smarting side as the hound in question ducked away from Anders hand and snuffled at her ear and neck, laying slobbery kisses along the path of his nose. “You big brute.” Ares grunted happily, shaking the bed with the force of his prancing and tail-wagging. Satisfied with the wakeful state of his friend, Ares turned and flopped down at the foot of the bed, letting out a contented huff.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine, just got a lovely reminder of what I’ve been sleeping off.” Briar stretched her legs out, breath hissing out between her teeth until she was settled back into a semi-comfortable position.

Either she was delirious again or some humor snuck into Anders’ voice. It was a welcome shift from his worry. “That’s why I’m a cat person.”

Briar grumbled before regarding him with narrowed eyes. “Well now that the dog’s awake you can definitely come up here with me.”

When he made no move to well..move, she let out another sigh. “Anders, you don’t have to keep watch over me anymore. I think you’re the one that needs to rest for once.”

With minimal convincing and minimum shifting and bickering–between Anders and the hound of course, Ares stretched out to take up more room once he felt his space being invaded only slightly–they were comfortably situated and the ambient quiet fell over them again.

#I answer things!#dragon age #da2 #femhawke/anders #oc: Briar Hawke #otp: Until Dawn Comes #first official briar/anders post #*blows confetti*

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kalimarsdreamlog · 7 years ago

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Dream 66: I am the World’s Punching Bag (and a Liepard)

Here’s another old one. It used to be my longest, but the Two Part Special dwarfs it in comparison, so…anyway, this one jumps around a bit and was a little hard to make sense of, but it was pretty awesome too! Or at least I thought so at the time. It’s a bit overdramatic.

Copy/pasted from my notes as usual, just cleaned up a bit.

Camping is where it all started. I could transform into a liepard. It was awesome. But before that happened I was just on my trip. The first thing we did was go to this amusement park. Everyone had a ticket that could get us in at any time, but only a certain number of times. I don’t know if ours worked once or twice. Anyway, in order to get in you had to climb these tree branches that practically made a 6-foot-high briar patch that went up to the scanner people.

Probably thanks to being able to turn into a liepard, I could jump super high. Instead of having to climb the branches like everyone else (I don’t know how grandpa did it!) I just jumped up, scanned my ticket, and was in the park. Actually thanks to my jumping abilities I probably could have just jumped over the fence. It was uneven enough I could easily find a low part. Oh well. I had fun with Savanna for a while.

Then the scene changed. I don’t know how or why, but I was back home in my room at my mom’s, albeit a very plain version. (With space under my bed, no shelves, and no clutter.) I had an entirely different backstory with a new cast of characters, so I guess the dream shifted. I was friends with fairies. Fairies of every color came to visit me in my room all the time, and they were normally invisible to the human eye. I don’t know why I could see them. Maybe because I was like a giant fairy myself? Unless I was just imagining things.

The door started to open. It was Umbridge! She’s famous for her disdain for magical creatures, and fairies were no different. I was on my bed at the time. The little black fairy hid between the bed and the wall, like where i stash things, and the little red fairy hid Under the bed. I didn’t want to reveal their positions with my size by hiding there too, so when I realized Umbridge couldn’t see me either, I flew up near the ceiling away from the bed, presumably out of reach. But alas, it was not so. The bells and chain mail on my outfit (for all fairies had that) jingled and chink’d as I flew up there, and by following the sound she found me. Oh well, it was better me than my fairies. She poured what I thought was a revealing potion to make me visible, but now I’m thinking it was more like a paralysis potion, to keep me from moving. Her next potion was a size-changing potion. Had I been tiny-fairy-sized, it would have made me human sized. Instead, it became a shrinking potion that made me tiny-fairy-sized. At three-and-a-half inches tall, it was much easier to evade her.

With nowhere else to go, I flew to the fairy kingdom. I went to a fairy banquet while I was there. Some things didn’t always shrink right. I was lucky my glasses were still the right prescription. They were so small that the lenses were held in place by two or three little pegs each, instead of wire rims. Of course the pegs were connected to the ear-pieces. I noticed another fairy with only one lense glowering at me, so I tried to offer some form of apology. Unfortunately, my brain doesn’t communicate well in dreams for some reason, so I ended up saying something like, “Sorry. I guess only half a dozen lenses ever make it through shrinking,” guessing he was shrunk too. Glasses were delicate things to shrink and it didn’t always work out.

the dream shifted again. Not quite what it was before yet (I mean what happened to the camping trip?) But close enough that the timeline or whatever eventually merges back up. My dad showed up and took me to this water park that was the coolest combination of slides and lazy river. All you had to do was enjoy the ride! We had to go home before we reached the end of it though, so while my dad found a way out (by walking on the side or something) I had to climb through the journeying thing the wrong way. Got lost on the way back. (and I was so close too!)

I ended up at these tubes, like at a mcdonalds playground except better. As in bigger around, longer, and not smelly. There were miles and miles of tubes. I explored on my own, still with my swimsuit and intertube from the slides, when I noticed the ladies manning the slides and tunnels kept calling me “sir.” They thought I was a boy! I’m fine with being called sir but that was pretty funny.

I ditched the intertube and found a long tunnel I was alone in, and transformed back into a liepard. Suddenly, I could run in the tunnels! Running like people normally draw (horse) obviously didn’t work. With the wrong body shape it was too slow. It was hard to run like a cat because it felt clumsy and unnatural, but I eventually got the hang of it.

Soon enough I ran into a group of kids and teens that were going on a path through the tunnels that would lead back to the campsite. Returning to human form,I caught up with them and merged with the group enough that they knew my name and never knew I wasn’t part of the group in the first place. Sadly, one of the girls there was afraid of people who could transform, so I did my best to refrain from it. But it was hard to do since it was so much a part of me. Then one of the slides we were supposed go down (and did) was basically broken and run down, and we couldn’t use it. So we had to go back.

From then I noticed this weird guy tailing us. He was going at quite a clip to catch up, and I didn’t think he had the best intentions. I was the last to catch up with the group and had to run liepard style to keep up. (While still a human, mind you) it was annoying though to see the others crawling ahead of us. The guy was going to catch up at that rate! (Haha I just remembered at that point I actually turned around and hissed at him! XD) We got far enough away though that we found an exit. It was a pole you were supposed to slide down. The lady working it got some kid to go down and I heard him reach the ground a few seconds later. (We were basically on a second or third floor) I went next, transforming as I went to cushion the fall. I landed lightly on my paws and scampered of. I then realized my mistake because that girl went behind me. Woops. I transformed back into a human and hoped she didn’t notice, then ran off to find the campsite.

But then the guy following us in the tunnels found me. He put me in this cage thing inside the roots of a tree with like a safe door held in place with sharp sticks. After he left I waited for something to help. Sharp sticks aren’t extremely intimidating, but I couldn’t reach them to get them out of the way. I hoped I could escape before the end of the trip, otherwise I had no way home. Then this little white german-shepherd type dog came along, and in his excitement to see me he knocked the sticks out of the way. I opened the door (probably broke it down, can’t remember because people keep interrupting me while I’m trying to write) and realized I knew where I was! I had a leash and my rollerblades stashed nearby! I grabbed them and put the leash on the dog, and had him run on the sidewalks to camp. We practically flew back to the camper. When we got back I greeted everyone and told my story and they were happy to see me, when the dog started…purring? That sort of weirded me out. I stopped hugging him, (that little guy was my savior) let Savanna take a look, (she’s a vet) and went back into the camper for a good night’s rest.

It was the last day of the trip, and we went to a Ren fair. I ran into the girl from the playground tunnels, the one that was afraid of transforming people. I was with secret agents or something. The girl’s family were bad guys who hated anything that could transform. I don’t know who attacked first, but suddenly her parents and the agent or two with me were down, leaving me and her with her dual blades. They were like curved daggers. She had already killed with them. I did my best to talk her down, but got too close. She reached her knives around me to my back, and pressed down till I bled. Noting our position, took the opportunity to give her a hug and told her she didn’t have to kill anymore. She froze, but after some hesitation I heard (and felt, thank you) the knives drop to the ground. That danger over, I transformed into my liepard form and purred and rubbed my face on her until she started petting me and she realized that maybe people who could transform weren’t so bad after all.

I found friends at the ren fair, but mostly hung out with Savanna. She went off on some ride I refused to ride. While she was busy I ran into Black. (as in the pokemon character)

We met a guy advertising free plane rides. It seemed like a good idea at the time, so Black and I decided to try it. In the dream I had piloting experience, so I got to fly the plane myself. We ended up getting a bad plane. (Tip of the left wing was torn off. It wasn’t as bad as other planes I had apparently flown) I flew for a minute until the guide decided to “show us something cool.” He took the controls and flew us through a forest. I thought that was the cool thing he was talking about, since dodging trees was foolhardy enough, but then he flew under the roots of a tree. He scraped the long wing against something and lost control of the plane. Despite his best efforts, we crashed. From third person, all you could see of the plane was a huge explosion. When the smoke cleared, the guy worriedly (it WAS his fault) asked, “Is anyone hurt?” (All that were in view were Black and the guide) The guide was fine. Black was fine. But a heavy, “Yeah,” was heard from off-screen. (Cue dramatic Comic form, with long horizontal panels and the only colors being black, white…and red.) They looked back to see me with blood all over the left side of my chest and right arm. Apparently the deep wound on my chest was from the shrapnel. Black sort of panicked and did everything he could to stop the bleeding. (He was SO crushing on me) I don’t know what the guide did. Get bandages from the plane? Whatever the case, the guy drove us back and revealed that he had ulterior motives for letting us fly. He wanted to win some kind of contest or race, but he needed a team to do it with. With a pretty co-pilot like me, (that is not me being conceited that is exactly what he said) he was sure to win. So confident was he of his abilities, he even let me fly for a minute or two. Taking the plane through the forest for a couple tricks should’ve made up for it if I flew badly. Even with our rickety plane, he was sure we could still cross the finish line first. Obviously, that failed.

He dropped me off somewhere in the fair so I could get help while Black either stayed with him to make sure he didn’t “try anything funny,” like running away, or ran off much faster than I could to find help more quickly. I saw Savanna and walked over, raising my arms as if in presentation. I was covered with bandages to the point my right arm and chest were positively FLUFFY. My back where the knife-slices were was bandaged too. She asked, “What’s up?” Like she didn’t notice anything. Which I was a little indignant over, but now wasn’t the time.

“Do you know where the nearest hospital is?”

“Why?” (Come on Savanna you don’t ask why when it comes to hospitals!)

“Plane crash. Apparently I’m losing blood pretty quickly.” Actually, I was afraid of becoming lightheaded and passing out from moving too quickly, and was taking care to move as smoothly as possible. Her eyes widened.

“Oh. Okay. Let’s go.” She took me over to a tavernish place because we were at a ren fair and didn’t know where the hospital was. We found this lady who looked like she knew what was going on. My step-dad woke me up before I could actually get help though. He had a bad habit of doing that.

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#dream 66 #dreams #pokemon #liepard #long dream #old #savanna

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pterodactylterrace · 4 years ago

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Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 3

Chapter Summary: You’re late for tea

Rating: 18+ for later chapters

Warning: Possible swear words, dirty thoughts, nudity

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Friday had been a strange day for Faye. First, Henry wasn't on set. It took an embarrassingly long time for her to remember being told he had a few days off of filming.

Then, Mrs. Anderson sent her a strange series of texts asking about him. Sure, Faye had mentioned him a few times. Also, Briar was constantly going on about the man with the fluffy dog, so it made some sort of sense that she would ask about him. Not to mention Mrs. Anderson was always trying to find her a 'nice young man' to settle down with, so fixating on the one man she had mentioned wasn't that odd in retrospect.

Then, as she was pulling her beat up car into her driveway, she noticed an unfamiliar, shiny vehicle already parked outside. Maybe that was the new car Mr. Anderson had been dying for? Why would he park at her house instead of in his own drive a few doors down, though? Was it a surprise for Mrs. Anderson?

Now, she was walking into her house only to be greeted by a very excited, very large fluffball at the door.

"Kal?" That was definitely Kal. He was the only black and white Akita she knew with the habit of knocking his rear into her leg for attention, although his getup was rather strange. Why was Henry's dog in her house, and why was he wearing fairy wings, her daughter's dress up fairy tutu and at least a dozen mardi gras necklaces? Also, the floppy sun hat on his head was a nice touch. He seemed to enjoy having it on as well. That, or it was tied on too well for him to get off.

The dog's attire should have prepared her for when she looked into the living room. There sat Mrs. Anderson, her sun hat on along with one of Briar's scarfs and glow in the dark glasses perched above her regular seeing glasses. Next to her was Briar, her full fairy princess costume on, complete with wings, crown and a scepter, pouring pretend tea into the strangest guest's cup.

There sat Henry Cavill, cross legged on her living room floor, tiny plastic tea cup in his massive hand. On his head was perched a plastic crown, a feather boa wrapped around his thick neck, and if the sparkles were anything to go by, Briar had attacked him with her glitter body spray.

"Mommy!" Briar gasped, dropping her plastic tea pot and racing over to her mother, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"Hi, sweetie. What's going on?" Faye asked cautiously.

"You're late for tea." Henry replied, taking a pretend sip from his cup.

"I hope it's alright, dear. You did say he was a friend, and Briar seemed so fond of his dog, I didn't have the heart to turn him away." Mrs. Anderson explained.

"Uhh... yeah, it's fine." Faye mumbled, still taking in the sight before her, Kal and Briar rejoining the tea party as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

"My mistake. I thought we agreed on Friday." Henry apologized, pushing himself up. "We've only been here a little while. We can leave if you'd like."

"Oh, no. That's ok." Faye assured, finally setting her bag down, hastily turning over her sketch pad on the entrance table. Some things weren't meant for anyone other herself to see.

"I'll just be heading off then, Miss Warren." Mrs. Anderson excused herself, taking off her borrowed accessories and gathering her things. "You all have fun."

"So, uhh... how... how long have you been here?" Faye asked once she closed the door behind the older woman, quickly scanning the room to make sure nothing difficult to explain was in plain sight.

"Not long." Henry assured, sitting back down at Briar's insistent tugging, folding his long muscular legs back up as he settled on the floor in front of the coffee table.

"More tea!" Briar demanded, holding the cup up to his mouth, prompting him to take another pretend sip.

"You make wonderful tea, miss." Henry complimented, Briar preening in response.

"Mommy, you want tea?" Briar asked, a wide yawn cracking her little face.

"I would love some, sweetheart, but it's time for your nap." Faye pointed out.

"No! I wanna play tea!" Briar whined, plopping back on her backside in a pout.

"Briar." Faye warned, raising a brow at her.

"But... but... tea party!" Briar insisted.

"We can play more tea party after your nap. You're getting grumpy."

"No I'm not!" Briar insisted, her chubby face drawn into a scowl.

"That was grump right there." Faye pointed out, gently scooping up her cranky daughter. "Now let's go lay you down for a nap, and then we can play more tea party when you wake up."

"I don't wanna nap!" Briar yawned, rubbing her hazel eyes in an attempt to stay awake.

"You need one."

"I don't wanna nap, I'm tired!"

"Sound logic, my love." Faye sighed, settling her daughter into her bed, tucking her in with her favorite stuffed unicorn. The little girl was asleep before Faye even reached the door, curled up around her stuffie with her little tush up in the air.

"Sorry you had to see that. She really hates going down for a nap when she's having fun."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to get her wound up." Henry apologized, removing the plastic crown from his head.

"Don't worry about it, she's just happy to have more guests at her tea party." Faye assured, picking up the plastic dishes and putting them back in the toy box.

"She was quite insistent we join, though I do think Kal enjoyed getting dressed up." Henry chuckled, beginning to remove the dog's costume.

"Good thing you agreed, otherwise you would have faced the wrath of Briar." Faye giggled, noticing the unicorn and rainbow stickers all over Henry's back.

"It was a pleasure attending her party. She is quite a wonderful host." Henry laughed, stowing the costumes back in the toy box. "Now, I do believe you requested help with a cake for our little party host."

"Yes, right this way." Faye waved, heading off to her tiny eat in kitchen. "What do we need?"

"Well... you have an oven, so that's a start. I brought the ingredients with me. Do you happen to have a cake pan?" Henry listed, opening the fridge and removing the bag he'd brought along.

"I have a glass baking pan." Faye offered.

"We will work with that." Henry agreed. "Now, measuring cups?"

"They are around here somewhere."

"Do you know how to use them?" Henry teased, setting the ingredients from the bag onto the counter.

"Vaguely. I just usually eyeball everything when I cook." Faye admitted.

"That won't work with baking. It's a science and the measurements have to be exact." Henry explained. "So, we'll start with the dry ingredients. Can you measure out two cups of flour?"

"I have no idea where the cup is. I have half a cup."

"Four of those, then." Henry absently mumbled, scanning over his mother's recipe card again. He glanced over to see her attacking the bag of flour with the measuring cup, wincing to himself as he watched. "Faye?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Forgive me for asking, but do you know how to measure flour?" Henry asked, cringing when she tried to smooth the top down with her hand, causing a flour explosion in her face.

"I'm guessing what I just did wasn't right."

"Not quite." Henry chuckled, stepping behind her, taking her hand in his and dumping the flour back into the bag. "You can use a spoon to sift it. Packed flour and unpacked flour are two totally different measurements." He explained, handing her a spoon and taking her other hand in his, showing her how to sift the flour into the measuring cup.

Faye tried to keep her cool and ignore the fact that Henry Cavill was pressed up behind her, holding her hands and showing her how to measure flour like it was the most natural thing in the world. Surely this was just some dream and if it was, no one had better wake her up.

"Got it?" Henry asked, turning his head to look at her, snapping her from her thoughts. Faye did her best not to stare at his lips, so close and yet so far away. She could just lean in...

"Yeah, got it." She quickly confirmed, forcing her attention back to the task at hand.

And so it went, Henry leading the way through the mysterious land of baking, Faye following blindly behind. He even let her lick the spoon when he was done with it, and he in no way stared in awe at the way her tongue moved around it. He was a gentleman, after all, and imagining what else that tongue could do would be highly inappropriate.

It wasn't until after the cake had been pulled from the oven to cool that Briar woke up, wandering into the kitchen with her now disheveled princess costume still on, her hair sticking out in strange angles as she rubbed her eyes.

"You're here!" Briar gasped, taking notice of the giant in the room and scurrying over to him, throwing her arms around his legs.

"Nice to know where I stand." Faye pouted as Henry scooped the girl up, her daughter not even glancing her way in favor of talking to Henry.

"Can we play dollies?" Briar asked, batting her thick dark lashes at him, her chubby lip sticking out in a pout.

"I've never played before, you'll have to show me how." Henry agreed, smiling down at the little girl held securely in his arm.

"Mommy, you look silly!" Briar giggled, finally looking over at her mother.

"That's not nice." Faye gently scolded.

"What on your face?" Briar asked.

"Mommy had an incident with the flour." Henry explained. Shit. Had she really spent the last hour, practically drooling over her guest with flour all over her face? She really should write a book on how to flirt. No doubt, it would be a best seller.

"I'm gonna go get cleaned up." Faye mumbled, her face heating up beneath the flour coating as she ducked her head and beelined down the hall.

"I'll be learning how to play dolls." Henry chuckled after her, carrying the toddler back to the living room so her mother could shower in peace.

Fifteen minutes later, Briar was still explaining the different names of her dolls and stuffed animals, piling each on top of Henry and resorting to stuffing them under Kal's paws when she ran out of room on her semi-willing captive. Faye cracked the bathroom door open and glanced to the living room to make sure her guest was thoroughly distracted before she slipped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around herself as she snuck down the hall to her bedroom, breathing a sigh of relief when she closed the door behind herself. She could almost convince herself he was interested in her with the couple times she'd caught him looking her way when he thought she wouldn't notice. No need to scare him off with her mom-bod now.

Sure, it hadn't been that hard on her figure. She wasn't left with the same saggy stomach her mother had after her pregnancies, but then again, her mother had carried two sets of twins almost to term. Talk about a superwoman. Though she did decide no more children after her younger brother and sister had been born.

"You keep giving me a two for one deal, I'm not doing this again!"

Good times. Good times. The wonders of having twins running strongly in your family. Faye had only given birth to one, but she still bore the stretch marks on her stomach and breasts, and the loose skin on her stomach had never really gone back to the way it was before.

Faye was shaken from her thoughts by her daughter's all too familiar exclamation coming from behind her. "Mommy, you're nakie!" She would never understand her daughter's near obsession with pointing out the fact that she was in fact, naked during and directly after showers, but it was without a doubt one of her favorite hobbies. Right behind tea parties if she had to guess.

"Wait, what? Oh!" That was not her daughter's voice. Faye's head snapped up to find Briar's chubby hand wrapped tightly around Henry's little finger, his other hand clapped firmly over his eyes. "I am so sorry! She wanted to get her stuffed dragon, I did not know this was your room!"

Faye snatched her towel off the bed and wrapped it around herself again, grabbing the dragon from the pillow and handing it off to Briar. The little girl happily took her dragon and led Henry back down the hall, not bothering with the door. The wonders of being young and innocent. She had no clue what she had just done.

Faye quickly shut the door herself, remembering to turn the lock this time, though it was a moot point by then. She threw on a tank top, leggings and her fluffy socks before forcing herself to venture back out. Henry was actually sitting on the couch this time, doing his best to focus on what the little girl was saying, though truth be told, his mind kept wandering back to the quick glimpse he had gotten of Faye's backside before he registered what was going on. It was even better than the glances he had gotten when she bent over in front of him to rummage through her make up bag. Nice and round, plump yet firm. The kind of ass you just want to squeeze as you're-

"So... " Faye started awkwardly, quickly breaking Henry out of his own head. "Lunch sound good?"

"Chocolate sandwiches!" Briar quickly suggested, hugging her stuffed bunny to her chest as she bounced around.

"It looks like I'm making chocolate sandwiches, though I could probably also manage a peanut butter and jelly."

"I wouldn't want to impose, though I did want to apologize again-"

"Accident's happen, but we are going to pretend that one didn't, ok?" Faye interjected. "So nutella or peanut butter and jelly?"

"Umm... either is fine."

"Briar, keep them company while mommy makes lunch, ok?" Faye suggested, going back to the kitchen before her false confidence faded. If he was on board with repressing and denying, so was she.

Now, only one questioned remained: Would Henry prefer his sandwiches cut into dinosaurs or puzzle pieces?

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x ofc #tea party #henry cavill fanfic #guys like you #guys like you fic #multi chapter

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victorluvsalice · 5 years ago

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AU Thursday: Londerland Bloodlines -- On The Stage

You know what? Reblogging Kitty Briars’s reaction to getting dragged out onto the stage in the Nocturne Theater (just trying to figure out what happened to what should have been a simple honeypot con) has inspired me to share another snippet of “Londerland Bloodlines” with you all! Namely, what it was like for Alice when she woke up on the Nocturne’s stage! Unlike Kitty, she wasn’t unstaked until LaCroix started talking (as per the canonical cutscene), so we start with one very confused Alice trying to figure out how the hell she’s not dead. . .

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"Good evening."

Alice blinked as, suddenly, the world came back into being around her. Twice in one night – who knew I could make a habit of dying? she thought, shaking her head slightly in an effort to clear it. Or, more accurately, who knew I could make a habit of coming back from the dead. Didn't he–

"He did," Cheshire confirmed, pressing a paw against her chest. Alice glanced down to see a large bloody hole in her chest, right above her heart. "You seem oddly immune to being slain in such a manner now, however. Perhaps Mr. Fish has given you a set of his own unique gills?"

Fish! Alice jerked her head around, gritting her teeth. That bastard! He'd gotten stabbed too, hadn't he? Had their mysterious assailants dragged him as well to the – the –

Dreary Lane Theater?

Alice raised an eyebrow, examining her surroundings. The old hulls of ships creaked above her, barely visible in the starlight filtering down through a watery sky. Glowing seahorses clung to whatever splinters they could find, little sparkles of light against the dim. Beside her, the great red curtains were tied up, nibbled here and there by eyefish. Around her bound and kneeling form stretched the wide stage, populated by her redheaded captor, his blond friend, a similarly-trussed and bored-looking Mr. Fish (Alice couldn't stop a hiss escaping her), another blond fellow in a smarter-looking suit, and – ah. I – didn't realize they made people that big, Alice thought, looking up the humongous creature that stepped up beside her. He looks as if someone made a lion walk on two legs!

"I know the Lion, and that is not him," Hatter proclaimed, gazing suspiciously at the giant as it crossed the stage. "Though he's certainly a wild beast of some description."

"Never mind him – who is this interloper who has taken over my stage?!" Carpenter demanded, stalking up to the blond man in the good suit. "Do you have no shamosity, my good sir? Do you have no respect for the dramatical arts?!"

Obviously the man did not, continuing on with his speech while Carpenter blustered. "My fellow Kindred – my apologies for disrupting any business, or interfering with prior engagements you may have had this evening," he addressed his audience, looking through the fishy faces gaping up at him. "It is unfortunate that the affair that gathers us together tonight is a troubling one. We are here because the laws that bind our society – the laws that are the fabric of our existence – have been broken."

A fishwoman gasped, fanning herself rapidly with her fin. Beside her, a strange black man whispered in the ear of his Hispanic companion, who was regarding the stage with steely eyes. Alice scanned the crowd, curious. Most of its make was familiar – the usual couples who brought themselves to Carpenter's stage, content in the knowledge that his and Walrus's more murderous impulses had been curbed with the destruction of the Infernal Train. But speckled throughout, breathing the water like the cleanest air, were humans – or, at least, Alice assumed they were humans. They looked the part – a prim blonde businesswoman sitting with legs crossed in the front row, a lingerie-clad lady blowing a scarlet kiss to a bald black man in the balcony, a rough-looking biker type smoking a cigar by the door. But at the same time, there was something – off about them. Something – other. Something – Queenly?

"I am the only monarch here," the Queen of Hearts growled, a tentacle curling over her shoulder. "What lurks in them is far more – bestial. The Jabberwock to my crown, perhaps."

Lovely, just what I need – more people capable of setting me on fire from the air. Alice sighed, and winced as she heard the air whoosh through the hole in her chest. The hole that, by all rights, should have killed her. If it was even truly there, of course. Damn it, I wish I had a better handle on what was real and what wasn't right now. . .

"As prince, I am within my rights to grant or deny the Kindred of this city the privilege of siring," the smart-suited man went on, oblivious to the fact that he was baffling Alice more with each word. "Many of you have come to me seeking permission, and I have endorsed some of these requests." The prince paced the stage, regarding each attendee in turn. "However – the accused that sits before you tonight was not refused permission." His voice darkened. "Indeed – my permission was never sought at all."

"Oh, come off it, LaCroix," Fish drawled out, rolling his eyes. His guard gave him a look, but said nothing. "As if anyone takes you and your 'rule' seriously. I did what I knew was right, so can we finish up here and go?"

LaCroix shot Fish a glare. "As you wish," he replied, before turning back to the audience. "As you can see, he was caught shortly after the Embrace of this childe." He clasped his hands before him. "It pains me to announce the sentence, as up to tonight, I considered the accused a loyal and upstanding member of our organization."

There were a few snorts from the human-shaped members of the audience, and even the fishly attendees looked rather dubious. "'Loyal and upstanding member?' I'd trust a dodo over him!" Hatter declared, his hat bouncing. "And I do! Regularly!"

Fish, meanwhile, didn't seem to notice, too busy preening. "Finally, someone recognizes that I'm just doing my best for our world. Now, can we get rid of these ropes, or–"

"But as some of you know," LaCroix continued a little louder, doing his best to ignore Fish, "the penalty for this transgression – is death." He spread his arms wide, encompassing the mass of not-quite-humanity before him. "Know that I am no more a judicator than I am a servant to the law that governs us all. Let tonight's proceedings serve as a reminder to our community that we must adhere to the code that binds our society, lest we endanger all of our blood." He knelt, cupping Fish's chin with his hand, the falsest pity Alice had ever seen in his eyes. "Forgive me."

"Oh, for – you just have to drag it out, don't you?" Fish said, letting out a huff. "All right, all right, I'm sorry. I should have asked for your precious permission first."

A smile tugged at LaCroix's lips, vicious and cold. "Too late, I'm afraid." He stood up again, nodding to his lion. "Let the penalty commence."

The lion nodded back, then reached behind him and unsheathed the absolute biggest sword Alice had ever seen. Fish blinked as he raised it above his head. "Wait," he blurted, the first note of panic creeping into his voice. "You're not really – you're – you can't – I – wait! Wait wait wa–"

Sching! A good foot of metal broadways sliced through Fish's neck like it was air. Fish's head fell to the stage, splattering blood everywhere (Alice's stomach – growled?) – then, abruptly, dissolved into a pile of orangey ash. The rest of him soon followed, leaving nothing behind but a dirty coat, hat, and glasses. Alice and the Wonderlanders gaped at the scene. What – did he – did that actually – happen?

"Alice – I sincerely wish I could tell you otherwise," Cheshire replied, ears flat against his head and back arched.

LaCroix nodded, satisfied in a job well done – then his gaze slid to Alice. Alice stared back. Was he – she didn't even know what was happening, how could he – "Which leads to the fate of the ill-begotten progeny," he said at last, turning back to the watchers.

"Sir! Sirrah! Have I told you that you shine most utmostomously on this stage?!" Carpenter cried, darting in front of LaCroix with a wide, terrified smile. "Why, we should have you on every night!"

"Without a sire, most childer are doomed to walk the earth never knowing their place, their responsibility, and – most importantly – the laws they must obey."

"All the tea you could ever drink!" Hatter shouted, leaping up and down and making his leg springs squeal. "Sugar! Milk! Everything! All provided if you just let us go!"

"They are potentially dangerous – and a definite liability. Therefore, I have decided–"

"You can't behead her! That's my royal right!" the Queen screamed, pounding a tentacle against the stage. "This is madness! This is treason! This is–"

"This is bullshit!"

All heads, including Alice's and LaCroix's, jerked to the source of the interruption. The Hispanic man from earlier had more or less exploded out of his seat, and looked ready to storm the stage. His friends – the black man from before, and a young redheaded woman in a beret sitting in front of him – leapt up to restrain him. Around them, the other human members of the audience stirred, whispering and muttering amongst themselves. "Oh, I'm glad we left Nemo at home," a fishwife said to her fish husband. "This is far too much excitement for his blood!"

I wish it was too much for mine, Alice thought, looking between LaCroix and his protester. The way they were glaring at each other – oh, there was history there. And she was right in the middle of it. Please, please. . .

The tension stretched itself thin – then snapped, as LaCroix seemed to come to a decision. "If Mr. Rodriguez would let me finish," he continued coldly, folding his arms. He glanced back at Alice, lip curled, then schooled his features into calm once more. "I have decided to let this Kindred – live."

The whispering grew louder, crackling with intrigue. Hatter and Carpenter fell on each other in relief, while Cheshire rubbed up against her. "Seems you are worth more to this LaCroix alive." He eyed the hole. "So to speak."

Seems I am. Alice thought about jazz music, and a brief, dim glimpse of a pub. I'm – not sure if I'm relieved or not.

"If we're relieved, you're relieved," the Queen lectured, settling back on her tentacles. "Simpleton."

Hey, I've had a bad night.

Her redheaded captor shot his blond friend a look of intense surprise. "Seriously?" he murmured. "Fish's childe?"

"I guess she technically hasn't done anything wrong," the blond admitted, squinting at Alice. "Still – that's practically bowing his head to the Anarchs. How's the Camarilla supposed to keep power if he's giving up so much ground?"

"I know, I know – but as Mr. Rodriguez would like us to be aware, a sireless childe need not be a drain on us all," LaCroix said, raising his voice above the rabble. "We will give our new member a chance to prove herself. She shall be instructed in the ways of our kind and granted the same rights." He shot Rodriguez a look. "Let no one say that I am not sympathetic to the plights and causes of this community."

Rodriguez looked very much like he wanted to say just that. He settled for a glare and a nod before turning and stalking toward the nearest exit, his two friends trailing behind. LaCroix huffed, then turned to his remaining audience. "I thank you all for attending these proceedings." He hit them all with a hairy eyeball. "And I hope their significance is not lost." He waved a hand. "Good evening."

Recognizing the entertainment of the night was over, everyone promptly got to feet or fins and started filing out. The lingerie-clad woman caught Alice's eye as she passed the stage and gave her a wave, mouthing "Good luck!" before continuing onward. "Making friends already – fortunate," Cheshire commented, tail swishing.

Not the word I'd use, Alice thought, tugging at her wrists. At least not in my current position.

#londerland bloodlines #fanfic #vtmb #proof that I am working on the full-fledged fic of this AU!#I'm actually pretty pleased with this reading it back #yeah it could use a little polishing but #not bad for a first draft right?#I particularly like Carpenter demanding to know what the hell LaCroix is doing on his stage #and then all the Wonderlanders freaking out when it looks like Alice is going to be decapitated #plus the whole 'making it look like Dreary Lane Theater'#gotta start doing more of that in the rest of the story #and yes that is VV giving Alice a wave there #since she's gonna be one of the friendlies in the story I figured I'd start her and Alice off on a good note #queued

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thecoroutfitters · 6 years ago

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Written by R. Ann Parris on The Prepper Journal.

Editors Note: Another guest contribution from R. Ann Parris to The Prepper Journal. If you have information for Preppers that you would like to share then enter into the Prepper Writing Contest with a chance to win one of three Amazon Gift Cards with the top prize being a $300 card to purchase your own prepping supplies!

I’m the first to suggest that many prepper packs can go on a diet. However, there are some handy gadgets that can make our lives easier or be downright must-have’s, whether we’re mid-disaster, packing for fun, or heading out to hunt, fish, or cut timber.

At the moment, I’m going to umbrella all the various bags preppers carry under Bug-Out Bags. So, when I say “BOB” also consider the GHB-Get Home Bag, GOOD-Get Out Of Dodge bag, day/patrol packs, kayak/canoe grab bag, belt bags, and whatever our non-pocket, semi-expanded EDC-Everyday Carry kit goes in.

Many are also worth the weight and space as permanent fixtures in our everyday and rec vehicles, our SIP-Shelter in Place and vehicle-evac totes and rolling bins, and our sheds and fence-mending coats.

Besides the bare-bones basics that are universal (yet situationally dependent), here’s a handful of BOB items to think about…

Disposable Gloves

Whether they’re truly disposable gloves or the kitchen types that are reusable but not truly a one-time purchase, some liquid-shielding gloves can be beneficial.

Many hunters use them to avoid pathogen contamination. One of my main purposes in keeping them handy is similar – protecting any nicks or larger cuts in grubby situations (I know for a fact you can use hand sanitizer and wash your hands wearing decent medical gloves on only one hand).

They’re also useful for preventing contact and cross contamination of something like poison oak/ivy while treating it or gingerly removing a suspicious leaf from Survival Dog’s coat.

Regular household gloves are a little tougher than exam gloves, and with some tape or an elastic hairband can still provide a decent seal. They can also go over a jersey-glove “liner” to form a warmer combination, one more resistant to rainy, wet conditions than the commonly packed leather shells or PVC-dipped garden gloves.

Skip the cafeteria/catering service gloves – they don’t fit well, they’re tough to get tight enough to be useful, and they’re very light duty.

Super long, heavy-duty work gloves are a little too bulky for me. There are some really good PVC-coated fisherman and janitorial gloves out there, but they’re a little pricey for me and a little too bulky for my purposes (versus a “good” set of “real” gloves).

My picks are the 7-10mil exam gloves in 5-pair pouches or the 2-pair packets of kitchen gloves, the ones that fit in back pockets and shirt pockets, and offer multiple changes for the same space and weight.

Pliers

Specifically, needle-nosed pliers with both decent textured ridges and decent to good wire cutters can be incredibly useful – useful enough to consider mod’ing a pouch for them or having them in your chest carrier.

Having them on-the-move handy helps with a biggie: detaching yourself from brambles or wire.

The ability to get a good grip on small and slick objects is huge, and my primary purpose – the snap that won’t pop, the strap that’s stubborn, the knot that got wet and then dried into concrete, a stiff zipper or if the zipper pull pops off, and getting a stubborn bottle lid open various ways.

They also give us the torque to turn wire coat hangers into anything we want, among the various intended-use repair and access purposes.

My test of how good cutters are is if they can handle a fishhook.

I know for sad fact that you can get through steel chain link, three-strand barbed wire, and definitely the thinner cattle/dog wire fencing with less-robust options. (And the next on the list – oops.) These guys did a nice review on a fair variety in price ranges.

Pruners

I like bypass pruners over anvil types, and vastly prefer one-handed operation – to include the lock, but I will acknowledge that grip-loop latches have fewer failures than slider locks. Like a knife, a full tang is going to be sturdier than hollow plastic, although they’re heavier.

They’re a biggie for me, because I forage and I typically make small fires using mini tin-can rocket stoves or a Dakota pit. A good pair of pruners can handle even starchy cattail rhizomes, upland grasses, willow, and the size limbs I want, with far less noise and weight than a hatchet or machete, and eliminate carrying my curved harvest blades while packing.

Like the pliers mentioned above, they can also be used to clip and detach briars from gaiters, chaps, pants, sleeves, dogs’ coats, etc.

And, as I accidentally discovered on several different occasions, you can cut through your fence with a good set.

Hankies

I specify hankies, because they’re small, thin, and light. I know plenty who carry large bandannas for their noses, but I like having multiples that I can cycle through, and to not have any question which was for brow mops and coffee cups, and which was for my nose.

Small cloths are also easy and fast to wash and dry, and – huge – I can be washing and drying 1-3 and still have 1-3 dry and ready for me. Equally huge, I can pass a clean one to a partner and retain my own. With a bandanna, it’s all or nothing.

(I do, absolutely, use and carry bandannas – just not for my nose.)

Cotton & [Something] for Ticks

Ticks can be serious business. Attached long enough, they can transmit all kinds of diseases. Removed incorrectly, not only is the disease vector an issue, we can leave bits inside to create other infections.

That’s no good.

Snopes.com and others have low opinions of it, but I have great success soaking a cotton ball in vegetable or olive oil and holding it against a tick for 1-5 minutes. Some of them let go on their own. Others require just the lightest of tugs.

Since I tend to pack with cotton balls a small container of oils anyway, it’s easy enough.

Others have used options like petroleum jelly and vapor rubs, and I can remember using Dawn (specifically name-brand that time) as a good option for an initial flea, mite, and tick bath for rescue cats, dogs, horses, and even birds back in the dark ages before Advantix and shoulder-neck oils.

The advantage to each of those is that, like the oil, they have other purposes inside our kits – some of them multiple alternate uses – and they’re available in pocket-sized, pack-able containers without extra steps.

Decent tweezers and a light are also biggies for adding to or including in a first aid kit for ticks alone, and well worth the weight versus cutting open a paw or hand to remove a broken thorn tip, splinter or insect stinger.

Even if you don’t go for making your own first aid kit instead of buying, and don’t go for those options, if you’re anywhere susceptible, please make some plans for ticks. We’re not in Permethrin head to toe 24/7.

Pet owners: Remember, ticks will hitch rides on even treated animals – they just don’t bite or suck, by treatment. Our critters can then carry them into our houses/camps, where they can easily transfer to humans.

Claritin

By “Claritin” I mean any allergy-type that will stop sniffles and sneezing without rendering our brains to noodles, although I do specifically really like Claritin-D and the Walmart 10 mg loratadine generic (versus other brands and generics).

For us, it’s not just about allergies – it’s about controlling the symptoms of any running nose.

Whether it’s hunting or trying to slide somewhere unnoticed, an ill-timed sneeze can bust you instantly, or mess up an aimed shot.

Sneezing and having to snort/shoot rockets to breathe is going to make it tough to get rest, especially if the best rest possible is already cat naps or light dozing. It may also disturb any partners who also desperately need rest if humping the backwoods.

Cough Drops

Cough drops are there for the same reason – stopping the various types of coughs we might have to avoid detection, inopportune timing, and disturbances.

As with small packets of hankies, I tend to think small rolls or boxes stashed in readily-available pockets/pouches is best.

I also prefer the types wrapped in waxed-paper vice plastic. There’s a noise aspect as well as personal leanings about the type of waste produced. Small snack-sized zip-close baggies can keep them dry and contained.

Baggies are also an option to replace any bags we choose to buy instead of rolls/boxes. If we skip the Ziploc, double check that those bags have resealable tops.

Weight Sucks That Are Worth It

There are basics that are listed in every single article about our various bags and kits. Shelter, warmth, foot gear, first aid, knives, duct tape, rain gear, and others are ubiquitous, while also being hugely dependent on our skills, intentions, family/group composition, location, and even season. Rope and bungee cords are biggies for any packing, evac and even SIP situations.

I’m not big on overloading or hauling rucks built for multi-day patrols in hostile nations. The basics and water take up enough weight and space as it is, especially in some climates and with pets and-or children.

These particular weight sucks are worth the load to me. I have them in multiple locations, multiple bags and boxes and in some cases tool belts and coat pockets, on a daily basis.

They regularly have multiple uses, although some require something to go “wrong” before we value them. They can keep us safer, make us more efficient, and save the day even before a Big Thing happens or a storm has us trapped, just bopping around our daily lives.

And, I have to throw it in there, even though it’s an “obvious, always” list item: Water.

As much as you can bear even “just” for an afternoon park stroll, in whatever containers work for the budget, water is worth its weight.

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