#you went from saving an entire town to owning a small garden with animals all around

[leoandbeholdclark]

"(...) I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you."

/Everything Everywhere All At Once

Credits to all cc creators!

[kieraelieson]

Mercy

Someone was in his circle. A human by the feel of it.

Virgil sighed. Humans were always pains to deal with. If it were a werewolf or something he could be certain it was an accident, and end up with a nice favor to cash in someday.

Virgil loved favors. They were so perfectly vague. Who knew what kind of trouble he’d be in someday? And favors could save his ass. Or even could brighten a sucky day, if he felt inclined to spend them on something so small.

He had 53 now. 53 favors from other fae or magical creatures, waiting in his back pocket for whenever he might need them.

But humans. Humans weren’t good at favors. There wasn’t all that much they could do, if they were a singular one, and even if they could’ve done more if given time and effort, a favor only went so far. And a group of humans? Virgil had never known something as awful as a group of humans could be.

Though sometimes, groups of fae could compete.

Most fae enjoyed humans more than Virgil did. There was a sort of… of power, to a fae, from taking in the wild emotions of a human. It was available in all creatures, even other fae, but it was so much more raw and intense from a human.

Other fae adored teasing and tricking humans, pulling from them the reactions and emotions that would fill that gaping need within. Groups of fae could be especially cruel, spinning glamours and casting spells over entire towns.

But it was for food, in a way. Not too different from the wolf eating the rabbit. Virgil could understand it, even when he himself disliked it.

When humans became cruel? There was no such need being filled. There was no necessity to it. It was pure evil pleasure.

Even when they stumbled into his circle, Virgil preferred to avoid humans. He didn’t want their cruelty to taint him. He already had impulses and desires, even needs that made him a natural enemy to many. If he took in the human’s cruelty, made it his own, he couldn’t live with himself.

His sense of his circle returned. Destruction. Something was ruining his circle.

Virgil growled, pulling the shadows of the forest around him as he walked towards the circle. Creatures fled from his anger as he walked, the animals and other people of the forest giving him a wide berth.

He didn’t own the forest, but he was certainly the strongest being within it. He had a few circles where he claimed ownership, just a few little patches of forest to be untouched, to be his. And this human ignored that. Or flaunted it.

Virgil didn’t hide his approach. Shadows roiled at his feet, pouring ahead of him like a wave. He made himself taller, more inhuman, more obviously fae.

He finally reached the circle. A human was crumpled on the ground on one side, gouges through the soil surrounding him, the mushrooms that marked the border of the circle torn to pieces. It was as if he’d kicked and dug at the ground, trying to break the circle enough to escape.

And judging by the fear rolling off of him in waves, that may well have been his motive. Not that Virgil cared. If the human didn’t want to be caught in a faerie circle, the simplest and most obvious answer was to not enter one.

Virgil was neither appeased nor tempted by the fear either, as many other fae might be. The flavor of it was bitter, sour running down his tongue and curdling in his stomach. He felt a hint of satisfaction, of vengeance, but no desire to prolong the human’s suffering. He’d dispose of him, and then repair his garden—

“W-wait!” The human shouted, pushing his boots into the ground again to propel himself backwards, away from Virgil’s approach. “Please! I want to make a deal!”

“And what do you think you have that I might be at all interested in?” Virgil growled.

The human blanched at the cold tone. “I— I’ll give you my name.”

Now that brought Virgil a moment of pause. A name. A name was a lifetime of favors. Granted, it was a human’s lifetime, much shorter than his own. But still. This was an offer that tempted him. Now to see what the human dared to ask for.

“I’m listening,” Virgil said. “What is it you hope for?”

The human straightened slightly, an intriguing mix of boldness and humility washing from him. “Mercy.”

Virgil cocked his head. “Mercy? The mercy of a fae will hardly seem a kindness to a human. Much less one bound by his name.”

The human gulped, but didn’t crumble. Virgil was becoming interested, despite himself. He looked over the human more closely, bothering to notice details. The human wore clothes that were brightly colored, reds and golds. They were torn, and stained dark with… well, from this distance it seemed like blood. His arms were bound behind his back. This was becoming stranger and more confusing every second.

Virgil was beginning to feel inclined to accept the deal, if only to get to the bottom of why the human was here.

“I must fall on your mercy anyway,” the human said. “Caught in your circle, I know I’ll be bound for a year and a day. I know what it’s like, to be in power. To have mercy asked of you.”

Virgil watched the human closely. He was trembling slightly, but rather than mere blinding fear, he was giving off a light taste of hope. His boldness and humility mingled with the flavor, creating something truly intriguing. Especially to Virgil, rather starved of emotion. He preferred living alone, but he couldn’t deny that it left him weaker than was smart.

And the human was smart too. Mercy was just as vague as a favor, could be flattering to the one asked, was difficult to twist into something negative to the human.

“Deal,” Virgil agreed, smirking. “Now give me your name.”

“My name is Prince Roman Antonio Marcus Ellory of Enteria.”

Virgil shivered as the rush of power flowed through him. A prince, hmm? Perhaps he’d made a more interesting catch after all.

“Roman,” Virgil said firmly. “Sleep.”

The human crumpled to the ground. Virgil scooped him up and carried the man home.

[ibijau]

I am 100% interested in NHS thinks he's Wen Chao and adopts Xue Yang. Super excited to see it. --HLS

were, here comes the first chapter Xue Yang's Master, or also on AO3

People said that the cultivators’ war was over, and that Qishan Wen had lost. For the folks of Yueyang, it came as a bit of a surprise, since they’d lived all their lives in the shadow of that great sect. Certainly the local sect was Yueyang Chang, and it was to them that most problems were addressed, but it was well known that the real power lay in Qishan. Chang Ci’an tried to pretend he was only putting up with the Wen because of the proximity, but everyone knew he wouldn't have gotten away with half the things he did if he weren’t hugging Wen Ruohan’s knees every chance he got.

And now, Wen Ruohan was dead.

There were all sorts of rumours about that, and no two people could agree on what had happened exactly. Some said it was Nie Mingjue, that great general of the Sunshot Campaign. Others whispered about a Jin spy, or else about his chief torturer who’d felt the wind turn and had decided to be on the right side of history to save his skin. And that was just the most believable rumours, there were also wilder stories repeated and twisted as they travelled from one person to the next. The only thing that never changed, in every story, was that Wen Ruohan had died.

Ultimately, that was all Xue Yang cared about.

With Wen Ruohan dead, his lackey Chang Ci’an was about to find himself in a very delicate position, and the entire town with him, even though most of them didn’t have anything to do with that cultivators’ war. Quite a few people had decided to flee, just in case, and Xue Yang was among them.

It’d been easy, for him, to leave the city where he’d lived all his life. He didn’t have elderly relatives or younger siblings to worry about, since he’d been on his own since quite young. He also didn’t own too much, just some coins he’d stolen here and there, and a cultivation manual that probably wasn’t a real one anyway, but which he clung to just in case. He’d neatly wrapped all that in his second sect of clothes, the ones he used when he went to pickpocket in more affluent neighbourhoods, stolen a bunch of food from the other kids he was sharing an abandoned house with, and then he had just left.

Most people, as they ran from Yueyang, were trying to go east or south, as far away from Qishan as possible, just in case the victors who had conquered that city decided they hadn’t had enough bloodbath yet. Xue Yang, personally, had decided he’d go south, because he knew someone in a place named Kuizhou who would surely find something for him to do, if he said he needed a job. But since quite a few of the richer folks seemed to be headed east, Xue Yang decided he’d go that way first, just for a few days.

By day three, Xue Yang’s little bundle was a lot heavier than it had been when he’d left Yueyang, and it tended to go clink-clinkif he moved a little too fast. Xue Yang hadn’t survived thirteen years by thinking only other people got robbed, so he decided to play it careful and to leave the main road behind for a bit. He’d also stolen a lot of food from careless rich idiots, anyway, so as long as he didn’t get lost, he’d be fine.

The first night after leaving the road behind, Xue Yang slept in an abandoned house in the woods. Or, well, somewhat abandoned. It was a decrepit old place, and the previous owner was still in his bed, almost entirely rotten away. The man had been dead so long he didn’t even smell, for which Xue Yang was half glad. He took out the semi-articulated skeleton and laid it down among the weedy place behind the house that might have been a garden once, not out of respect, but because he hoped to sleep in the bed himself. A vain hope. Most of the bedding had rotten alongside the corpse on it, meaning the dirt floor would be less disgusting to sleep on.

Xue Yang didn’t mind too much. He’d slept in much worse places.

Come morning, he’d checked if there was anything valuable to grab in that small house, then went on his merry way, in the direction he thought had to be south.

It had been easy enough, at first, to know which way he was going. Even a city kid like him knew where the sun rose. But then the forest got denser, and he didn’t see the sun again for a good while, not until roughly noon. At that point, Xue Yang had no idea which way was south or east, and he realised he wouldn’t be able to tell again until later, when he’d see the sun start setting.

Maybe avoiding the main road hadn’t been quite as smart as he’d thought. But then again, between that and risking having his precious loot stolen by someone bigger and stronger than him… he’d rather die in this stupid forest than let anyone take what had become his.

Figuring he couldn’t do much except wait, Xue Yang looked around for a comfortable sitting place and spotted a few fallen trees that would fit the bill nicely. He walked there, jumped on one of the trunks, and discovered a dead man there, hidden from view between two of the trees.

Well, a dead boy, anyway. He didn’t look that much older than Xue Yang, but he was very richly dressed, for someone lost in this stupid forest. It was a shame that most of his clothes were ruined by all the blood that came from a stab wound in his chest and a gash on the side of his head. Xue Yang could have sold that for a fortune. In fact, even with the stains, it might be worth trying to sell. And then there was a dainty little gold guan in his hair, the rings on his hands, and the sword next to him, just as bloodied as the rest of him but clearly of excellent quality and with an elegant sun engraved on the handle. Xue Yang could sell that and buy a horse for his trip south, and then he’d surely no longer have to worry about other thieves if he could just outrun them, right?

Already trying to guess how much he might get from this, Xue Yang bent over the corpse and pulled in its clothes in search of ties.

The next thing he knew he was lying on his back a few feet away from the body, his ears ringing from hitting the ground too hard, his chest hurting as if he’d been punched.

So maybe someone wasn’t quite dead yet, then. Xue Yang hurried to jump on his feet in case the older boy was going to put up a fight, but the rich kid remained motionless on the forest ground, one trembling hand still raised from having pushed Xue Yang away. Very soon that hand was allowed to fall down again, and Xue Yang approached the boy again, more cautiously this time.

The rich kid was barely breathing, but now that Xue Yang knew he was alive, he could see the very slow rise and fall of his chest, too slow to be normal, even for a dying person. Between this, his unexpected strength, and the sword he had, Xue Yang guessed that the boy he’d found wasn’t just an ordinary person.

Which meant that sword had to be worth even more than he’d first thought. Cultivator swords could buy a whole farm, and servants to work it for you, or so Xue Yang had heard. If he could find the right buyer, he’d be set for life, never having to worry about anything ever again. And all he had to do was wait for a rich kid to die, which would happen soon enough. Cultivator or not, those were some nasty wounds. The one on his head looked like it might have been accidental, as if he’d taken a bad fall, but there had to have been intent when he’d been stabbed, and that kid just didn’t look strong enough to last on his own. He’d die before morning, either of exposure or finished off by some animal.

Well, Xue Yang didn’t mind waiting.

The boy, however, seemed to have different ideas. Through some great effort, he turned to look at Xue Yang, looking him over as if trying to assess his worth. People did that a lot, and they rarely liked what they saw in him. But that rich kid must have been really desperate.

“Save me,” he gasped weakly. “He’ll find me. Save me.”

“Who will find you?” Xue Yang asked, finding a comfortable position to sit on one of the fallen trees, so he could watch the boy die.

“He tried to kill me. I don’t know him. He’ll find me. He was so angry…”

Xue Yang frowned at the news. Of course, that rich kid hadn’t ended up like that without a little help. If there was a stabbee, then there had to be a stabber, it only made sense. Xue Yang didn’t particularly care about the life of this complete stranger, but he did care about someone coming to finish the job and taking away the corpse and all those precious items on it. It was Xue Yang’s dream farm at risk there, and he couldn’t allow it.

One option, he thought, was to kill that kid himself and then take what he’d earned before fleeing the scene. But that carried the risk of being discovered by the murderer, who had to be a cultivator as well, since no ordinary person could have harmed a cultivator. Then Xue Yang would be in trouble, with the murderer either trying to kill him as well, or at least forcing him to leave without his loot.

The other option, then, was to take the rich kid somewhere safe and keep him hidden until he did die. The little house where Xue Yang had spent the night wasn’t so far off, if he took that boy there, then the rich kid could die quietly, and Xue Yang could steal all the stuff he wouldn’t need anymore due to being dead.

It was the perfect plan.

The hardest part of that plan was getting the rich kid out of his hiding place. He was half stuck among those fallen trees, and kept moaning miserably as Xue Yang pulled on his limbs to unstuck him. It took effort, especially when Xue Yang had to frequently stop to make sure the boy’s murderer wasn’t around, but he eventually managed to get him out of that spot. Then it was just a matter of pulling him by the arms on the forest ground, since Xue Yang wasn’t quite strong enough to carry him. The boy, at first, wailed weakly and cried upon being dragged around like this, but he eventually passed out and turned quite grey.

He was just passed out: Xue Yang checked. But he also wasn’t bleeding anymore, which had to mean he’d die soon.

Luckily, it wasn’t so hard to find the way back to the abandoned little house. At that point, the sun had started setting, so Xue Yang was once again able to use it as a reference point, and he got them to their destination a little before night. Once there, he managed to put the rich kid onto the bed, figuring it probably wouldn’t bother him that someone else had died there not too long ago. And it really wouldn’t be much longer now, because the older boy was deathly pale yet almost burning to the touch, a bad combination. In his experience, anyone who got sick enough to run a high fever had a seventy-five percent chance to die unless they could afford a doctor, or even higher. He’d been close to it himself, when he’d been young and stupid enough to think a cruel man would give him candies for carrying a letter, and just like that rich kid, he’d had nobody to take care of him.

Just like that rich kid, he’d have died alone.

And the rich kid would be alone indeed, because Xue Yang went to sit outside the house to have a dinner of whatever stolen food he had that could be eaten cold. It wasn’t that it bothered him to see someone die, and more that he was still worried about the rich kid’s murderer sneaking on them while he wasn’t paying attention. So he stayed up the entire night, paying attention to the forest’s every noise.

People said nature was quiet, but it was almost as busy as in the city, Xue Yang realised, what with the insects and the foxes and the who-knew-what running around. More than once, he found himself reaching for the rich kid’s sword and jumping to his feet, ready to protect his loot against whatever might threaten it, but nothing bigger than a mouse ever came close. He thought he saw a fox also, but he wasn’t even sure.

The biggest danger in that forest that night was Xue Yang himself, and that was just how he liked it.

[lavenderlucy]

4x9 AU Part 3

Here’s the third and final part of my 4x9 AU. This takes place immediately after the end of the second part. Caroline has just confronted Klaus after she found out that he killed Carol. This part features only Klaus and Caroline (just how we all like it). If you’ve been following along, thank you. These three drabbles were my very first time writing anything and I’ve had so much fun.

Part 1 is here and Part 2 is here

4x9 AU part 3

Their moment of peace was broken when Caroline saw Klaus fighting internally with himself. He looked like he was trying to decide whether or not to speak. She knew whatever he had to say would pop the perfect bubble they had been in for the past few minutes. He parted his lips to speak and tightened his grip on Caroline’s arm and face, afraid she might run from him.

He licked his lips, sending a jolt through her body, and spoke, “How did you find out about Lockwood’s mother?” His voice was even and soft, like he was trying to calm a scared animal. Caroline thought about lying, but knew he would see right through her.

“Tyler told me this morning.” She whispered. She knew the gravity of what she’d just done. She told Klaus that the boy he wanted to kill, the boy she was supposed to love was just a few miles away. The guilt of her admission weighed heavily on her shoulders. She turned her head to the side so she wouldn’t see the look of murderous intent she thought she would find on Klaus’s face, but it never came. Klaus turned her face back to face him and brushed his thumb over her lips like he was trying to touch all that he could before the spell they had both been under was inevitably broken.

“Please don’t kill him.” Caroline pleaded with tears forming in her eyes.

“You can’t save him, love.” Klaus wiped a tear that had slipped out of Caroline’s eye so softly that she thought she might start sobbing. How could he be so gentle with her and want to kill Tyler at the same time? There were so many sides to Klaus that Caroline had only just begun to learn.

Caroline was going to ask a second time for Tyler’s life to be spared when Klaus continued speaking. “I thought he would have had the good sense to run and be following the wolf girl across state lines by now. Those two seemed quite enamored with one another last I saw them together. I stumbled upon them in the mutt’s garden after your pageant. I would have been surprised when she sold him and his pack out to me last night had I not lived as long as I have.”

“You knew they were together?” Caroline asked in a small voice, her eyebrows furrowing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Klaus knew that Tyler really had been cheating on her, that she still thought their display just a few weeks ago had been a ruse, and that she really had no idea Hayley and Tyler weren’t acting. He had hinted at it before their fake breakup, but she didn’t want to look too closely at her boyfriend and they way he looked a little too comfortable in Hayley’s presence at the time.

“Would you have believed me?” Klaus asked with hesitation and what Caroline thought might be vulnerability in his voice.

“Maybe,” she admitted softly, looking up at him. “I think you’re the only person in this whole town that’s never lied to me,” she added before she could stop herself. Her own honestly shocked her. Klaus, the big bad hybrid, had been more of a friend to her than anyone else in Caroline’s life. Klaus started to pull back from her and Caroline moved her hands to his chest, bunching the fabric of his shirt between her fingers.

“Please stay here. With me.” She whispered so quietly that Klaus would not have heard had he not had hybrid hearing.

Klaus moved even closer until his lips were hovering over hers. One hand was still cradling her face and the other had dropped to the curve of her waist. Caroline’s heart was pounding loudly in her chest and she couldn’t look away from his deep blue eyes. He was close enough that she could smell his body wash, the scent washing over her. His nose brushed hers lightly and her gaze fell to his mouth. Before she could talk herself out of it and move away Caroline surged up on her toes and pressed her lips firmly against his. Klaus was frozen in shock for a few seconds at the feeling of Caroline’s petal soft lips against his before he responded. He moved the hand on her waist to her hair and gripped her soft locks between in fingers. His hold on her was desperate, like he thought she might slip away at any moment. Caroline let out a quiet, involuntary moan at the feeling of Klaus’s lips moving over hers. Klaus took the opportunity to let his tongue enter her mouth and slide along hers. Caroline moved her hands to cradle Klaus’s face and pulled him impossibly closer to her. Their chests touched and Caroline gasped. She felt like her entire body had been electrified by his touch. Somewhere in the back of mind she knew she shouldn’t be doing this, that Klaus was the bad guy, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care when the way his body was pressed up against hers felt so right. Caroline didn’t know why she hadn’t started kissing Klaus sooner if this is what it felt like. He tasted like expensive whiskey and something so uniquely him. Their kisses turned more passionate and Caroline found herself being pressed even further into the wall behind her. Caroline dropped her hands to Klaus’s shoulders and then wound her arms around his neck. Klaus moved the hand in her hair back to her waist and squeezed tightly before trailing his lips from her mouth to her neck and placing bruising kisses on the skin he found there. He ran his tongue along her pulse and bit lightly with his blunt teeth. He soothed the spot with an open mouthed kiss.

“Klaus.” Caroline moaned. She felt like she might pass out from the feeling of Klaus’s lips and tongue on her neck. Klaus moved his lips to her collarbone and began to taste her, determined to hear her say his name again. Caroline tugged his head back up to hers by his hair and covered his lips with hers once again. Kissing Klaus was addictive and Caroline hadn’t had enough yet. Caroline bit his full bottom lip and he shuddered, a low groan coming from the back of his throat. One of his hands slipped down to her neck, holding her in place, while the other slowly made its way down from her shoulder to her breast. Klaus squeezed her through the fabric of her light sweater, making Caroline press herself eagerly into his hands and release a breathy moan. Klaus ran his thumb over her nipple through her bra before letting his hand continue downward until he met her hip and squeezed. His other arm banded around her lower back and pressed every part of their bodies together. The feeling of Klaus’s body on hers was making Caroline completely forget why she was here in the first place. She knew her cheeks were flushed and her panties were growing damp. Determined to give as good as she got, Caroline pushed Klaus back slightly and ran her nails down the sides of his neck and down his chest and stomach, stopping just above the waistband of his dark jeans. The feeling of her nails made him groan and push his tongue past her lips with renewed fervor. Caroline tugged Klaus closer to her by his belt and spread her legs slightly. Klaus took the hint and moved his hands to her thighs and lifted her so she could curl her toned legs around him. Caroline’s arms moved to wrap around Klaus’s neck and she moaned loudly at the feeling of his need for her pressing into her inner thigh, so close to where she wanted him. She inwardly cursed the jeans they were both wearing.

Their heavy breathing filled up Klaus’s foyer as they continues kissing and running their hands all over each other. Caroline shifted slightly and rolled her hips into Klaus’s erection, the zipper of his jeans rubbing pleasurably against her clit. The action made them both moan. She threw her head back to catch her breath and Klaus began peppering her neck with kisses and licks. He grabbed her ass and pressed his cock that was straining against his jeans back into her denim covered center.

“Kla-aus!” Caroline’s cry broke in the middle. She had never felt the kind of desire that was coursing through her body before. Caroline circled her hips as best as she could in her position to chase the delicious friction that Klaus was creating against her.

Klaus lifted his head from Caroline’s neck and rested his forehead against hers. His eyes were full of lust.

“I want you, Caroline.” He ground out, arousal evident in his tone. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Caroline didn’t think she had ever heard anything sound as sexy as Klaus saying her name in that moment. The way his tongue curled around the syllables in it sent a shiver down her spine.

“Then have me.” She uttered, voice breathy and full of want, before she could think of all of the reasons why she and Klaus shouldn’t be doing this.

Klaus bit back a groan at her words and licked into her hot mouth once more. His hands pushed under her sweater with purpose and moved up to her ribs until his fingers skimmed the line of her bra. His hands felt so good on her feverish skin. Klaus pushed his thumbs under her bra just enough to touch the undersides of her breasts. Caroline felt like she was overheating and would explode at any second. She didn’t know sex could feel like this and they hadn’t even gotten that far yet. Klaus pulled back from her lips, staying close, and looked her in the eye. His lips were kiss-bruised, pupils blown and rimmed with gold, his hair was a mess from where Caroline ran her hands through it. He looked wrecked. For her, she thought, and that gave her so much satisfaction. The influence she had over Klaus had always made her feel powerful and sexy, not that she would admit that to a single soul.

“Are you sure, love?” Klaus asked, voice deep and gravelly. He was barely holding on and Caroline knew that he might not be able to control himself if they went much further.

“Yes. I’m sure. I want you, Klaus.” Caroline panted out, putting them both out of their misery. A part of her thought that maybe she was giving in too easily, but she just couldn’t help herself. As terrible of a person as it made her, she wanted him. All of him.

If she thought that Klaus would take her answer as a green light to rip her clothes off, then she was wrong. He pulled back even more from her and his gaze turned hard and suspicious. Caroline could barely keep up with his sudden mood swing. He removed his hands from under her sweater and put her back down on the floor before taking a step back from her. Caroline’s face fell and she felt the sharp sting of his rejection. Her mind instantly told her that yet again she was not enough and she never would be.

“Klaus? What’s wrong?” Confusion and insecurity filled her voice. Never in a million years did Caroline think that Klaus would be the one to pump the brakes on sex between them. She had felt his want for her, she had seen it in his eyes. Did he suddenly realize she wasn’t worth it?

“How do I know that your friends didn’t send you here to distract me?” Klaus spat at her.

“Kla-“ Caroline began.

“How do I know that you aren’t desperate enough to fuck a monster in exchange for your pathetic boyfriend’s life?” He interrupted crudely.

“What? No! That’s not what this-“ Klaus still would not let her speak.

“You’ve taken part in every plot against me and I have no reason to trust you!” Klaus’s wolf was pressed up against his skin and his eyes were flashing between gold and blue. Caroline could tell he was trying to control himself and avoid fully lashing out at her. Maybe he did want her. Maybe he wanted her too much and was afraid he was being tricked again. After all, what he just said was true. Caroline’s heart fell when she realized this.

“Klaus, I swear I’m being honest with you. I’m here because I want to be, not because I’m trying to distract you or bribe you with sex. I’m not in love with Tyler anymore. I just don’t want to see him dead. Please believe me. Please don’t kill him.” Tears were now running down her cheeks. Caroline realized that she really didn’t love Tyler. She had been holding on to him out of obligation for most of their relationship, but now she was doing what her heart wanted. Her feelings for Klaus scared the hell out of her, but she couldn’t deny herself any longer. She couldn’t ignore the way she felt when she was with him. She had to see where this could go and right now she wanted things to go upstairs or at least to the nearest sofa.

“Why? He betrayed me. He betrayed you, love. He had the sun right in front of him and threw it away. And then he turned all of my hybrids against me.” Klaus gritted out. He was still fighting to control his wolf.

Caroline rolled her eyes at the last part and stepped forward until she was right in front of him. She was pretty certain that none of this would have happened if the were-slut hadn’t talked Tyler into it, but that was a conversation for another time.

“Yes! He cheated on me and he tried to kill you, but you killed the other hybrids and his mother! You’re even!” She shouted in his face, chest heaving. She wasn’t asking him to like Tyler or even forgive him. She just wanted him to spare him for her. She just wanted to be able to continue to get to know Klaus without the shadow of Tyler’s impending death hanging over them. If Klaus would just get out of his own way they could move forward, together.

They stared heatedly at each for a long time before Klaus let out the breath he had been holding, looked up at the ceiling, and spoke. “Tell him to leave town tonight and run. I’ll give him a head start. If I see him again after that, he’s dead.” He looked back at Caroline, eyes sharp and desperate for her approval. The suspicion was gone from his gaze. Caroline knew what this compromise had cost him. He chose her over revenge. He chose her. She gave him a small smile.

“Thank you.” She said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I need to go tell him now and officially end things. I don’t want anything standing between us.” She added before turning to walk to the door. As much as Caroline wanted to resume the foreplay that would lead to the hot hybrid sex they were about to have, she knew that this was the right thing to do.

Klaus grabbed her hand and spun her back toward him. “I’m not a good man, Caroline. I don’t think after a thousand years of darkness that I could even try to be. I know who I am, what I’ve done and what I will do. I’m not good,” he repeated, “But I will be good to you. Can you accept that?” He was still clutching her hand like his life depended on it. His eyes bored into her own and she could see that he was being genuine.

Caroline gave him a small smile and leaned in closer to him, bring her other hand up to hold on to his shoulder. “I’m not asking you to be perfect. I know who you are, Klaus. I’m just asking you not to hurt me or my friends. If you can do that for me, then I can accept you. Every part of you.”

Klaus brought her hand up to his lips and placed a searing kiss on her knuckles before speaking. “I won’t hurt your friends unless they move against either of us.” He said lowly. Caroline nodded at his condition and smiled brightly at him. She placed a heated kiss on his lips and then slowly pulled herself out of his grip and walked back to his front door before he could reciprocate.

“Caroline?” Klaus called after her as her hand touched the doorknob. She turned to look back at him over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

“I would very much like a chance to take you on a real date. One away from Mystic Falls and your friends.” His voice gave away his vulnerability. His hand were in his pockets and he looked nervous.

“Pick me up tomorrow at 7. No flowers and nothing that involves leaving the country.” She responded and flashed him a smile.

He smiled back at her, dimples on display. “As you wish, sweetheart.”

Caroline couldn’t help the butterflies that erupted in her stomach at the sight of his devastatingly handsome smile. She playfully rolled her eyes at him, lips still turned up in a smile, and turned back to walk out of the door. Caroline had no idea how she and Klaus were going to work, but she was excited to try. She shook her head at herself and unlocked her car. She had a cheating boyfriend to officially break up with and force out of town. As she drove out of Klaus’s driveway she also wondered what the hell she was going to tell her friends.

[shinahbee]

January Favorites 2021!

GREETINGS

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February 06. 2021

Hello,

I actually wrote a lot for this month, perfect way to start off the new year! I have been catching up and watching some dramas and some of the new anime this season, which i’ll discuss a few down below. I’m just realizing that the manhwa recommendations list is growing very long and it reading those titles that i have discussed made me reminisce on some of them and most of which I would re read again. I tried to read some shoujo manga again and thought the stories were shit, so i don’t think i’ll ever go back. I’m thinking of starting some shoujo manhwa’s because I have a few titles that seemed like they might have an interesting plot line. I’ll list in in my favorites if I do end up reading those, but so far i’m still filtering the BL titles .lol.

I’m just going to put this out there now before you read the “Hell segment” I mentioned a few titles that were popular that i dropped and I listed the reasons why i dropped it, they are popular for a reason and if you like that and don’t take the plot line too seriously then that’s on you, but i don’t like the subject matter being glorified rather than “lesson learned” if you know what i’m saying so take my comments down there with a grain of salt...it’s just how i read it and interpreted the subject matter, it has nothing to do with the creator and their thoughts. This is going to apply to all of my reviews, they are just my opinions only so don't take what i say seriously if it you are offended that i happen to diss your favorite manga.

Anyways, i have no music recommendations this month all i have been listening to is podcasts, so listening to people talk about nothing.lol. That’s what my life has come to...

If you would like I can share a few that I have been listening to, let me know.

Alright, you all have a lot to read to i’ll just end here.

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MANHWA/MANGA/WEBTOONS

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Recap:

Whose baby is it? (ongoing)

Social temperature (ongoing)

Salad days (ongoing)

To be or not to be (ongoing)

Path to you (completed)

Here u are (completed)

BJ alex (completed)

No way, vampires don't exist (ongoing)

Unintentional love story (ongoing)

 Karasugoka don’t be shy! (Completed)

Semantic Error (ongoing)

 Tied up in Twins (Completed)

 My Suha (ongoing)

Crash into me (Completed)

Dine with a vampire (ongoing)

So crash into you is now finished and you can now read the entire thing, so happy it ended really well and of course if you have seen my last favorites journal I made and entire post dedicated to this manhwa. The story is really heart breaking and definitely deals with more adult and mature content and it really is disturbing in some parts, so viewer discretion is advised.

That’s all i have to announce as an update, the rest is still ongoing. This month I came up with certain themes for my hell segment, last month I started with some manhwa that all had a common theme of Scum antagonists that you will run into when reading these manhwa, some of which ranges from mild inconvenience to this piece of shit should be set on fire. If you have not read that please check it out and watch me rant about stupid people.

This week featured another theme that you will run into reading shounen ai/ yaoi manhwa and manga, it’s a very universal theme of “threesomes”...I don’t get it, I don’t get why people think that’s  okay to have three dicks in a room...i’m like there’s three dicks here, that’s way too many..lol. to each their own I guess, but i’ve selected three to talk about that also deals with mature themes and a bunch of people making poor decisions.

But before that, let’s talk about the normal shounen ai manhwa/manga that I have to recommend this month.

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Welcome to heaven

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1) Inner Beauty:

“Minjae’s been dumped. Fed up with their long distance relationship, his actress girlfriend Hye-Eun left him while he was “finding himself” in Australia. When Minjae rushes home and runs into Hye-Eun and her gorgeous new man, Woochan, at the airport, drama ensues. Amidst the chaos, the two love rivals bang heads. Upon waking, they discover they’ve changed bodies! Why have they switched? How will they cope? Will they ever be able to go back? Find out as Minjae and Woochan embark on a journey that takes “self-discovery” to a whole new level!”

Firstly this reminded me of the k-drama secret garden, if you have seen it you know that the main protagonists switched bodies at some point and with this manhwa, it happens in the first chapter. I liked how the relationship between the two boys started with minjae’s girlfriend leaving him for another man woochan, and after minjae and woochan switched bodies because he wanted to give the girlfriend a necklace as a gift , he switched bodies with woochan after bumping into him. They went to a shaman to seek out various ways to get back into their bodies while they find out things about each other that they were not aware of,  in the end minjae and woochan were drawn to each other. The necklace is a tribal ornament that has a mysterious power to show a person’s past through their dreams. It seems that the reason why their bodies keep switching was because there was another necklace that was similar that was supposed to be it's partner; they go a try to search for the mysterious phenomenon surrounding the necklace that leads to their relationships with other people changing.

my favorite part of this story is that woochan and his father didn't get along very well because of a misunderstanding, while other parents didn't admit to their mistakes, woochan's father wanted to do so and repair his relationship with woochan, which made the story more compelling. Theres so many manga plot lines whee the parent is abusive and harsh and never did they think it was thier fault, but in this story woochan's father mans up to the things he did and how it affected woochan and i'm really happy about that.

Another thing I like about this story is the end where woochan who was an actor turned director made a film about his and minjae’s relationship because he wanted their story to be remembered and inspire other relationships that were similar to their own to overcome their hardships. This story has so much meaning and it’s something I would recommend to anyone who just likes a good story.

2) False Memories (lee gpiee):

” Wan’s got a face that scares everyone away before he can really become friends with anyone. So when Ha-woon befriends Wan on his first day at his new school, Wan is elated. Ha-woon must be an angel! It doesn’t take long, though, for Ha-woon to betray him in a terrible way, and Wan discovers Ha-woon might be more devil than angel. But then an accident happens that gives Wan a second chance at friendship with his angel. And it all starts with one big, fat lie.”

This one is really interesting, it is about a boy named wan and he was the new transfer student at a new school and how despite how he looks he wanted make friends this time around. Hawoon met wan when he was climbed off of a tree and fell on him, he immediately took a liking to him and befriended him, being very grateful to have finally met a friend he wanted to be a very likable person to hawoon, but then it was discovered that hawoon had many secrets and is not the kind person he is portrayed to be. There was an incident where one of his followers was spying on him and he wanted wan to essentially beat that person up in front of his other gang members. Obviously wan didn’t want that and this caused some strife between the two of them and wan began to be bullied by hawoon and his gang members. Later hawoon was trying to escape from his brother who went to his apartment to look for him and ran into wan who hides him over night, things tooka turn for the worse when hawoon thinks wan is being really nosy about his business and pushes him away and that is when the guy who hawoon wanted to beat up his him on the head and hawoon woke up with amnesia. Being the only person who had witnessed that, wan brought hawoon back to his place, when hawoon woke up with no previous memories of wan he lied to him claiming to be his best friend and the tow of them started to pursue this new friendship, of course things don’t last forever and the both of them discovered that hawoon in fact had many secrets that he preferred to keep under wraps especially about his family.

I know a lot of comments have said that it was stupid to lie to him about being friends but I understand that it was wan’s way to know the real hawoon. Hawoon’s personality was built by the lack of trust he has received from people and he was never able to open up to a person about anything. I really liked how the incident ended up saving their relationship in the end and they have a lot of cute moments together while going from being friends to being in love with each other. This is a very wholesome story and if you like that plot you will like this story, it really is not complicated.

3) Hand in Hand:

“While running a small pharmacy in the outskirts of the city, Sam meets a mysterious and out of place patient. This man named noah who was covered in bruises every time he had stopped by the pharmacy, Sam noticed that he seems to be in worse shape every time they meet and became curious as to why that might be, one day he saw noah getting into a shady van with a bunch of people and discovered that this town had a secret that kept everyone involved very secretive. Noah who was discovered to be a part of that society still goes and sees sam in order to be close to him, sam was then reeled into his world and became part of that society that was kept hidden.”

Sorry I had to write that summary on my own cause I could not find a good summary, so basically the pharmacy was inherited by Sam when his father passed away in this small town, there was no one to take over for him so Sam had to give up his dream of staying away from this town to moving back to take over the family business, There one night upon closing he meets a man covered in bruises while coming in to buy some alcohol and cigarettes, he treated him because it looked painful and was curious about him,

This curiosity escalated when he saw him get into a van with a bunch of ugly dudes, the pharmacy assistant said that there were gangs running around and it was best to avoid these people. Sam made the assumption that it was these men that were beating that man up and decided to pull him away from them. Noah then introduced himself to sam as they walk back to noahs apartment and he showed some interest in sam and asked what he wanted as payment for his treatment, Sam of course didn’t want anything which made noah surprised, but relayed to him that the offer still stands when he feel like telling him.

Not only being curious that noah shows up in front of him each time with more bruises but the fact that he may have discovered the town had a secret.

It was in fact an underground gambling scene that caused a lot of people to be very irritable, noah was involved in this and called it “work” as he had a debt to pay back to the person that took him in. Sam didn’t want to be involved but because of his interest in noah the two of them became romantically involved upon a few meetings and Sam started to develop feelings for him and likewise noah was in love with Sam.  I’m not going to spoil the end because it was really intense, if you like mysterious plot points to your story this one will do the trick, it will keep you guessing as to what will happen next.

4) Stanning 101:

“Ji-Yul Park is an ordinary office worker who spends his spare time stanning a boy group, unlock and more specifically it’s leader, Jay.One day, he time travels back to his past where he encounters Juno, another idol and becomes his manager.What happenes when Juno develops feelings for Ji-Yul? Would Ji-Yul choose loyalty with Juno or his fanboy fantasy with Jay? And what is the purpose for Ji-Yul traveling back to the past-what is he supposed to repair or change?”

I’m not going to lie this title...don’t let it fool you, I thought this was going to be a satire on the whole K-pop fandom and just a story poking fun at k-pop fans...but boy was I fooled..LOL. This summary doesn’t even begin to describe how deep this story goes.

So as the summary says it’s about a fan named ji yul who is a stan of a group called “unlock” and his favorite member Jay was going to leave for military service and he was really bummed about not being able to see him for a while, so he went out drinking with his friends who share the same interest and cried his eyes out wishing that he could go back to the time when jay and his group first debuted.

And of course....that happened some how he was enabled into a time skip backwards to when the group first debuted. He first met up with a roommate that he was going to be sharing a room with, this was none other than juno a trainee a small company, Juno was a sensation later on in history and he was a rival of the unlock, and of course being a stand of jay he didn’t like the idea of being around juno. Upon meeting ji yul was already drunk and the next morning found juno and him had slept on the same bed, this made things between them awkward. But upon a series of events he became juno’s manager and inevitably began to understand the person juno is and how hard he worked, as well as his ties with jay. While trying to figure out what was the reason for the time skip he met another person who was sent back to the same time for a different reason his name was suho, and suho was here for another person named rose who was a in a different group. Rose is a sunbae of Juno’s and the two of them are acquainted, But there was something about Rose that was alluring and that made his “ sponsors” want to see him all the time, this lead to a lot of conflict within his group, saying that he’s the kind of person who would sleep around with anyone that has money.

Suho was a fan of rose and the reason he came back was because in his time he had found out that Rose had committed suicide, now....this is a topic that i feel very strongly about as you may know if you listen to k-pop news there are certain group members from famous groups that have committed suicide as of late, a lot of which was diagnosis of depression,

This story deals with not only suho having had gone through depression and suicide attempts but Rose who was going through that as well, Suho wanted to make sure rose stays alive, so when he was able to meet him he did all he can to be beside him and get him away from these sponsors that clearly only want one thing from him. This had made rose and suho close enough to develop romantic feelings towards each other, it gave rose the courage to confront the ceo from the company. In the end the company ceo was being a dick and tried to force rose to sleep with these people in order to get chances to be on screen and promote their group. One of their members knew from the start what rose had to go through and after rose was being hunted down by the ceo after disappearing, the member took footage from the ceo of all the nasty things he made rose do and gave it to Suho? I don’t remember this part well, but suho somehow go the usb footage and saw that rose had been sexually abused and assaulted by those men. Rose had went to see suho at the time and saw that he found the footage, at that moment he wanted to jump off the railings because he felt ashamed, but suho explained that it was rose’s music that saved him from doing the same thing he tried to do which was of course suicide.

Needless to say, at least in this story suho’s love for rose was able to keep him alive and as soon as suho w able to convey that he had disappeared and asked rose to find him in the future. I chose to write about Suho’s story because I just want to put it out there that suicide and depression are real struggles and to please seek help as soon as you can. Back to ji yul and juno, they in fact had developed feelings for each other and ji yul was sent back because he was in car accident with juno and in the both of them lost their memory of each other that was why ji yul only remembered Jay and being a fan of unlock while not remembering the times he shared with juno and how much he loved him. This made. He was able to tell juno after some time that he is in fact from the future and the both of them tried different ways to preserve the time that they had before ji yul would be sent back. Ji yul tried to defy fate but it turns out the accident happened to juno being in the car without having him there, meaning things will still take its course and you can cheat fate. So ji yul grabbed juno who was still unconscious and put him into the passenger’s seat and said his goodbyes to him, wishing for them to meet again even though knowing that it could be impossible for them to be together in the future he drove into the upcoming traffic. Ji yul woke up again back in the time he belonged the only thing he can remember was seeing juno’s picture in front of him and tears leaving his eyes.

Omg this is a k-drama all in one package, this is where i’ll stop because the manhwa is not finished, so if you liked my summary of it so far please read the actual thing, you will not be disappointed, I promise you.

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Welcome to hell

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I don’t know how to begin this segment after writing all of that for the heaven’s segment, those stories were just so good compared to the trash that i’m about to share here. But most of the trashiest stories have more complex plot points than normal stories. I mean you need to go through hell to come out the other side right?

*warning* this section talks about mature content! 18+ only, read at your own risk!

Let’s begin then.

1) Private lessons:

“Hajoon has been crushing on Eun-woo ever since they started college together, but he hasn’t had any opportunities to get close with him. At least they have a class together this semester: a lecture taught by the popular Professor Seo Joohyuk. Hours after the first class, Hajoon remembers he left his assignments in the classroom. Upon reaching the lecture hall, he becomes witness and accomplice to a series of private lessons Joo-hyuk is giving Eun-woo—lessons that unleash his own deepest, riskiest desires.”

I’m starting off strong ...oh where to begin? This story has so many messed up characters, I’d have to say all three of them are messed up. Firstly I don’t care if your professor looks like a  dilf (urban dictionary if you don’t know what it means) you should never get involved with them. Lol. And I don’t know what school you people go to to have professors that look like this...all of mine were crusty old men who were mean and arrogant.

I makes me sick to think that there are some older men that would take advantage of people like the way Joohyuk did with Eunwoo and Hajoon. Hajoon just wanted to get Eunwoo’s attention, but because of joohyuk, he took “notice me senpai” to the next level. but I guess i understand from hajoon’s point of view that if he does nothing, he will never be change his relationship, so if he liked him then getting involve would be a way in. Eunwoo was so enthralled with joohyuk that he would just be a sex partner knowing that he would never have potential feelings for him in the end. I did feel sorry for him at first but then there was this part in the story where they were all preparing for this festival thing and he and hajoon were in a group and had to be waiters for the night of the festival, this was when eunwoo started to somewhat show interest in hajoon. Then that fricken dilf was like “you’re doing things on your own and i’m going to show you why you shouldn’t defy me...” or something like that, asserting dominance saying that eunwoo would always choose me over you to hajoon, and indeed on the night of the festival when he was supposed to work, shit went down between hajoon and this senior and fight broke out while hajoon was defending eunwoo , only later to find out that eunwoo was screwing the dilf in his office while all this was going on, I think i felt my veins snap...this idiot had the audacity to f around with that dilf while hajoon was working his ass off and even defended him. Smh....anyways in the end Eunwoo fell in love with hajoon and gave up on his feelings over joohyuk, knowing that joohyuk will always look at his other partner seojin. So in the end it worked out, but this whole story is a dumpster fire of trash.

So moral of this story is don’t get involved with dilfs, don't simp for them...lol. Just don’t do it. I don’t recommend this story for the content but if you are into trash and BDSM, then maybe this is the one for you.

2) Behind the scenes:

“Korea’s hunkiest top model Woo Taeyoung has decided to try his hand at acting once more. No more of those teen heartthrob roles, Taeyoung has his eyes set on a much more…mature role. And when he finds out his idol, the dreamy Koo Min-ki, is set to be one of the main actors of the film, he is even more determined to get the role as his co-star. The two seem to have a natural chemistry with each other…both on and off screen. Will this end up helping their performances? Or will it cause their worlds to come crashing down?”

This story is a also a dumpster fire of flaming garbage, it starts off with a model turned actor named taeyoung who works mainly as a model but is secretly a fan boy of another famous actor named minki and he went to his fan signing in disguise, only to be discovered by the fans and cause a racket and minki ended up injuring himself. This caused taeyoung to be able to meet minki in the most embarrassing way, but he wanted to make it up to him by helping him until his injury was recovered. One night minki was driven home by taeyoung and they ran into another popular actor named wonho...(monsta x..lol. i’m so kidding don't kill me...) and this dude saw minki coming out of taeyoung’s car and immediately became violent...

there it is red flag!

Turns out wonho was minks boyfriend, taeyoung only knew that his favorite actor minki was in a 10 year long relationship with his girlfriend, says the media, but he didn’t know that it was a man...and this violent piece of shit at that. Taeyoung had heard rumors of wonho being excessively violent to anyone who comes near minki and anyone who has worked with him always was threatened by wonho. So even though taeyoung reluctantly left minki with wonho he still was really worried, rightfully so.

Wonho is the worst kind of garbage out there; even being in a relationship he still forced minki into having sex with him. This is rape, even if you are in a relationship it means the same thing it’s non consensual and disgusting. Not only this but being violent to everyone that is near minki, is enough for anyone to end this relationship. But minki was that idiot who believed that the old  wonho he once knew  would come back one day and so this ongoing relationship abuse lasted for a long time. Taeyoung of course got an opportunity to make his acting debut, and auditioned for the of minki’s character’s lover, it was the first queer film in production so to the director it was a passion project that he wanted to see succeed. He passed the audition and showed his potential and chemistry with minki on screen very well, so the director was happy casting him in the role. But of course guess who finds out and showed up on the film set...wonho. He obviously made minki uncomfortable and also taeyoung, but in series of events taeyoung went to the bathroom and found wonho and minki making out inside and realized the person he admired was gay and was in a relationship with wonho for a long time. Later on he got to know minki more and found that he had romantic feelings towards him rather than just admiration. Because minki and wonho’s relationship was abusive minki was contemplating on ending it but didn’t have the courage to, it was taeyoung who showed genuine feelings for minki that was able to push minki to move forward. So while this was going on, wonho was in fact being sponsored by a certain person in order to get roles in his acting career, this person was taeyoung’s cousin...yeah i know messed up,. This dude is very toxic and made things go wrong between wonho and minki and that’s how their relationship went downhill for 10 years. Anyways to sum it all up a lot of stuff went down and wonho’s actions were no longer acceptable and as soon as minki found out this ongoing sexual relationship between wonho and taeyoung’s cousin, he broke it off with him finally and moved around different places for a while since wonho would not leave his apartment he couldn’t go back. Taeyoung and minki ended up dating each other now and he succeeded as a model turned actor with this role. Wonho after a series of events was able to let minki go after seeing him one last time and apologizing for everything he’s done to him. The movie was very successful and won many awards and the ending of the series just showed taeyoung and minki talking about their relationship on screen and off screen to the viewers...hence the title “behind the scenes”

Okay this trash made me angry and sad at the same time since it talked about a relationship that has gone bad and two people refusing to leave it since they have been together for a long time. You know when you should end things and if a person starts to change there is no way for them to be the same again. So all in all this story is really good for depicting all sorts of relationship issues and drama. I would say yes give this read because the story itself says a lot about the writer and how they think. This is one of those stories the pull you into the depths of hell and once you resurface your see things in a different perspective.

3) Turn off the camera:

“Yeon Jihoon is the leader of an idol group that’s hit a dead-end in their career. Now, he’s received a golden opportunity to save his group: a spot on the year’s most anticipated reality show, where he’ll spend two weeks living and filming with top stars Do Yoojin and Seon Yohan. The one threat to the show’s success? Yoojin and Yohan won’t stop having sex with each other. To stop a scandal from tanking the show and his career, Jihoon must keep his co-stars’ antics hidden from the cameras at all costs. Will Jihoon be able to keep these steamy shenanigans a secret for two weeks? And will he survive when both of his co-stars turn their attention on him?”

This is some straight up kinky garbage, like the description says, jihoon got the opportunity to promote his group by becoming a member in an upcoming reality show with two popular actors, the show is a reality show of the three of them living together doing daily activities while cameras are installed in their home. You can see where this is going right? When jihoon first arrived into the house to greet the other two actors; yoojin and yohan and he found the two of them in a room having doing sexual acts and even tried to cover for them when the camera crew arrived up stairs in the room.

After several attempts of the other two actors having sex at different points in time jihoon became very aware of the fact that they were doing this for the fun of not being able to get caught having sex on camera. So basically this was like a fun game to the two actors.

Yoojin and yohan were caught the third time by jihoon while having sex on the kitchen table and so the three of them had a discussion and jihoon made them sign an agreement not to touch him...of course that didn’t work and he was caught in unfortunate circumstances surrounding the both of them, to the point where both sex partners started to want to pursue jihoon for themselves.lol

This manhwa is just straight up kinky trash, it is meant to be a satire on three some relationships and not meant to be taken seriously, so just going by that, there’s not much point to the story, it’s not in depth it’s just interesting to watch jihoon reject these actors advances in order to save his virginity.lol. I feel like from the recent chapters jihoon maybe more interested in yoojin than yohan so i’m waiting to see if yohan even has a chance to be on jihoon’s radar.

This is still ongoing and it only has 20 chapters so far so i don’t have that much to say about it, this was just something really normal in terms of yaoi to read while I was reading some dark stories, the art is really nice too if that is of any interest to you.

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So there are a couple of series that are quite popular that I have left out because I have dropped then fairly early on.  one series called “Hate or Love” which i started a while back then and didn’t like the whole plot of having an abusive sibling forcing another sibling into a sexual relationship... i’m like nope...

This manhwa should have just been called “ Domestic boyfriend” I would have avoided it all together, because I have read “Domestic girlfriend” it is essentially the theme, and a giant dumpster fire of flaming garbage.

The main reason i stopped it was because the other person that I was hoping the main guy would end up with didn’t end up as the “ winner” well from what the comments said anyways, cause i stopped fairly early on when i found out the guy i liked was not going to be the end game, that makes me sad cause from the early chapters that i have read, there was a lot of sexual tension between the two of them and I was hoping this author would not push abusive sibling relationship as the plot...but looks like she did ...and i don’t care for it and find it gross...but that’s my morals, even if they were not siblings by blood they grew up together as siblings...that’s still vastly inappropriate. I'm used to it since I grew up with Japanese anime and manga with incest themes, but it still bothers me.... Vampire knight...

Even if they were not even related, i still would not like that red haired dude regardless cause his character seems like a dick, and i don’t think he suffered enough consequences for his actions to make him a redeemable character in my opinion. And also...out of 7 billion people on this earth, you would rather be with your brother...smh.

Also if we are talking about using sibling relationships in a sexual way as a plot line, then how i interpret this manhwa is that it is focused on more of glorifying abuse and sexual relations between siblings rather than making the subject matter more serious, if you know what I mean. But to each their own if you just read it because it interests you then feel free to do so, i’m not interested and decided to just drop it early on.

The other one is called “ Yours to claim” another popular series but again I don’t like dark haired dude,  I think he’s a dick and if it was me I’d choose the blonde guy, he seems like he would be a person that would treat me better. I just don’t understand the appeal of being treated like shit by people, if anyone treats you like that...please dump their ass! Because It’s not okay! Both of these have the “ other guy “ as the better option for a potential relationship but they always choose the other messed up abusive/ bad boy and i just don’t why...i just feel disappointed but literally not surprised since it’s an ongoing trope in any sort of romance based media.

But needless to say there is nothing for us as the audience to do but to read them, we don't make any calls on who the person ends up with and the plot lines that happen in the story, so that is that i guess.

I’m having a mental breakdown just thinking about these two series, i included then briefly cause they fall into this weeks’ theme of trash.

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MUSIC

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Nothing special to share in this department this month, mostly listening to podcasts .lol.

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K-DRAMAS/SHOWS

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The tale of nokdu:

I described this drama as the mulan reversal, if you know the story of mulan, she dresses up as a man and goes into the imperial army camp to fight in the war in place of her father, nokdu is an adopted child that was suddenly hunted down by a bunch of assassins one day and instead of fleeing with his father and older brother he decided to follow the assassin into the city since he was able to injure them in the leg. He followed the assassin into town and was almost able to catch them when he was suddenly arrested from a disturbance another young man in town has caused. Later he found out that the assassin was heading to a village that was out of sight and exclusively to women, in order for him to go in he would need to dress up as a woman, the opportunity arose when he helped a young woman escape from the village with her husband and she gave him her clothes in exchange for his to escape. He then infiltrates the village and now has to chase after the assassin and try to kill the mastermind behind the assault on his family. But what he discovers was more than what it seems. This is 16 episodes and is completed if you want to watch it; I recommend it since its really good.

True beauty:

Everyone and their mother is watching this web toon turned drama, I say this cause my sister who gave up watching any k-dramas watched this one and read it...this is something, she doesn’t like a lot of things so i decided to watch it after she told me it was good. I watched it and I didn’t like it mainly because the problems in here is very much a young adult type of problem, like having acne and having to deal with bullies at school, these are all problems you mainly deal with when younger so none of this drama is relatable so I didn’t enjoy it. If you like the high school romance drama setting you might like this, but I have watched so much more meaningful dramas, this doesn’t do it for me.

That’s all the dramas I have watched so far, I mainly have been listening to podcasts instead of watching anything, I find it hard to find an interesting drama to watch these days, I have been enjoying listening to people talk about nothing lol.

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ANIME

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Haikyuu:

Finished Haikyuu season 4 part 2, I left this for a while so that all the episodes were finished and every time I watch it i gives me the same feeling every time. This part focuses on a lot of characters that were not fully flushed out in the first few seasons, like tanaka and nishinoya and one of the bench players...i forgot his name. I really like their portrayal of hinata this season he really is the saving grace of karasuno, not because of his obscure skills in volleyball or incredible stamina but because he’s playing volleyball because he loves it and it is fun even if the stakes are high. I feel a lot of the players here this season were so stressed they forgot that the game is supposed to be fun, and he keeps reminding them that it is what it is and that they should live in the moment. I loved seeing that develop in his character because i feel like there was too much focused on kageyama for a while and I wanted to see more of hinata’s growth.

So I was pleased with season 4 and I can’t wait to see more, haikyuu is really one of those anime that people are widely talking about now and it really is well deserved.

Skate the infinity:

Another sports anime about skate boarding, the animation is really nice and art style is really beautiful. I know there are so many sports anime out there now but this one is really interesting, I like the relationship between the two main characters reki and langa, it reminds me of the friendship between riku and sora in Kingdom hearts, reki teaches langa how to skate board from scratch and langa being a previous snow boarder was able to race one of the best contenders in the underground skating rink and beat them in a match but of course he isn’t a genius so he wanted to learn everything from the ground up since he thought it was fun. Lol. I like seeing the progress so far in their skating journey, this anime is really wholesome.

Dr. Ramune mysterious disease specialist:

This is a very satire anime, It is really comedic and deals with a doctor treating weird diseases, like the first episode there was a girl with a disease that made her cry out condiments as tears. It's actually very interesting in terms of the types of diseases they treat in each episode and how he uses these magical items to do so, that is a really bad explanation for this show but please watch it .It’s interesting so far and I’ll write more as it finishes.

so as a finishing statement, I hope you all enjoyed the favorites for January, I have been able to catch up on a lot of things which is why I have so many things to talk about this month, I already have the next theme for the Hell segment planed out for next month, so I can't wait to share that, if you like the manhwa recommendations and my excessive ranting so far.

until then. please take care of yourself and your love ones ! lunar new years is coming up, have a great year and I hope 2021 will be a lot better please follow me on my social media listed below if you'd like

thanks!

sheena

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SOCIAL MEDIA

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Instagram: shinb_art

Tumblr: shinahbee

Deviantart: she-be.deviantart.com

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[averylostsoul]

name: avery weaver

nicknames: avee, weaver

age: twenty-nine

gender identity: cis-female.

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: demisexual

birthday: february 19, 1992

star sign: pisces 

occupation: unemployed, past manager at animal shelter & assistant manager at nursey/flower shop

place of birth: peggy’s cove, nova scotia 

height: 5′9″

+nurturing, personable, honest

-naive, insecure, anxious

tldr;

Avery was visiting Cornith Bay as a solo backpacker when she fell victim to a bite and run!! She has a very sweet and empathetic soul, so the idea of feeding is quite monstrous to her. She’s been wondering through the city on her good days, and hiding away in the country side on her bad days, leaving a tiny trail of victims of her own...She would love to get back home but she’s terrified of spending hours in a giant flying metal tube surrounded by hundreds of snack paks. 

She’s been pretty distant and has tried not to talk to too many strangers but as time goes on, she’s more curious about finding the vampire who turned her. And also finding someone to help her control her cravings. Above all, she’s just terrified of hurting more people. Who would have thought her Eat Pray Love Mama Mia fantasy would turn out like this? 

History (tw: blood, mild graphic violence)

Avery was usually the loudest person in the room, although surprisingly no always the most obnoxious. She had a way of attracting attention with her bright smile and overly positive personality. She was the loyal support group to many of her friends and often went out of her way to please those she cared about. She grew up in a small town in Nova Scotia; often the caretaker of her friends, plastering band-aids on scraped knees or mixing hangover concoctions. She always seemed to be surrounded by a bubble of cheerfulness and pure luck. Avery was a hard worker but there had to be something else in play. Every project, job, or measly goal she worked towards ended in happy success. Sometimes even her friends doubted the reality of it all. How can one person expel so much glee and succeed at everything they did? Avery chalked it up to the belief that if you put positivity into the universe, it gives it back. 

Or the universe was just waiting to tip the scales back in its favor, and she was none the wiser. 

Avery was an emotional child. She always felt too much. Ear shattering sobbing over a simple  scraped knee or hyperactive wandering out of her mothers sight, leading to quite an ear tugging lecture. But, she was coddled, she was allowed to feel anything and everything. She was never shushed in a forbidding tone, always loved and quite frankly spoiled. 

In Avery’s reality, her family was a fairytale but as with most tiny imaginative brains, she was missing the full picture. She was seven when she last saw her father, and didn’t quite understand why she, her mother, and her brother needed to move  into a tiny studio apartment. Nothing but a dirty old mattress on the floor,  taken off the street for the three of them. Of course she didn't complain, after all, now there was no way monsters could hide under her bed and she got to sleep next to her mother every night. Every meal was Easy Mac or Chef Boyardee and Avery thrived. It was only after a few years that she was old enough to notice the tension between her mother and brother. After all, it was her brother who watched her as their mother worked doubles and night shifts. He didn’t get to play with other children the way she did. Does the eldest of a single mother ever really get a childhood? Avery was always quick to step out of the way when the two began arguing. Oblivious to her role in their relationship, and far too much the golden child to dare get involved. So aloof to the ordeal, she didn’t quite understand why her brother left their home on his eighteenth birthday and she never heard from him again.

By the time  she turned fourteen, her mother had a better financial footing and inherited a small animal rescue from her long time boss. The poor woman was a saint and 92 years old at the time of her passing. As somewhat of a surrogate grandmother for Avery, she taught her the fundamentals of empathy. Caring for the souls of those who could no longer care for themselves, and nursing animals back to a healthy and happy state. She had volunteered at the shelter for many years, but under her mother, began taking on greater responsibilities. By the time she was eighteen, she had become a manager and ran the shelter on a daily basis. She was saving for college, but not entirely sure what she would focus on. Veterinary school seemed the obvious choice, but she didn’t cope well with the tougher calls inside the shelter. 

While her friends partied in university, Avery began feeling a bit left out but she had an attachment to her current routine that couldn’t be severed. Instead, frequent weekend gatherings were planned and she filled her free time with hobbies. One of which quickly became gardening which may have been slightly influenced by the owner of a quaint little nursery shop in town. She began working there part-time as a second income to save for her eventual attempt at university. 

She was, however, quite stubborn financially and very wrapped into her routines. Why change a perfectly good thing? She wanted to save every last penny she made, refusing to take out loans or attend university until she had the entirety of tuition in her accounts. Someone a bit more perceptive could have guessed that in reality, Avery was simply very much afraid of change and discomfort. 

As Avery grew older the pressures of a societal expectation of an appropriate timeline for a woman her age began weighing on her. Her friend’s graduations and careers, and even engagements began to make her feel menial. She was stagnant while everyone else moved forward. The sudden engagement of the aforementioned nursery owner and closure of their shop was the last push Avery needed. In quite a frantic fashion, she decided on a solo backpacking venture through Europe. 

Corinth Bay was the second destination on her list, but she had a full week to spend lazily by the water. She never doubted her safety, at least not in that moment. Her naivety, the catalyst. She found the maze of cobblestone streets and sun setting behind olde world houses beautiful at dusk. So mesmerized she barely felt the hand around her waist and lips on her throat before the pain of tearing flesh seared throughout her nerves. Barely a scream before she laid on those cobblestones gasping  for the smallest breath. Her vision blurred, fueled with fear of what would come next as whatever it was pressed against her lips, the metallic taste of blood coating her throat. Was it her own? Or someone else’s? 

She didn’t dream, at least not that she could remember, but light fluttered through closed eyelids. Street lamps, warm windows. For a moment, she thought she was back home. Tucked under her covers as the sun peaked through sheer curtains. The cold, hard stone beneath her body tethered her back to reality. The slick, wet, sludge, slimy under her hands confirming the tingling on her throat was not a phantom pain. It was the sharp cramp in the pit of her stomach that sent her sitting up. It felt hollow, and suddenly the metal left on her tongue tasted like honey. Sweet and an aching craving only demanded more. She lapped at her fingers, covered by the crime, but it tasted sour and rotted. She knew immediately it was to be fresh.

Feral, like the strays her mother took in, she moved without thinking. It felt parasitic, the way her brain commanded her body to attain sustenance. The first soul she crossed, she’d never forget how her screams faded as life drained from her veins. It was only then that she could feign some form of control. The realization of her monstrous actions, and fear of that fleeting moment of happiness when the blood slid down her throat. She once was a girl who sobbed when her father killed so much as a simple fly, now she held the corpse of a woman in her arms. Resisting the urge to lick the blood from her skin. 

A nightmare in its truest form. She escaped the inner city, towards the countryside, hiding away from the need to satisfy  her craving. Avery learned quickly that she could not drink from animals. The sickness only exacerbated her need for human blood. She dared not to enter the sun, stories of myths and legends were cautionary. As the hollowness in her stomach grew, so did her madness. The further she tried to stay away, the easier it was for her to lose control. The slaughters she left in her wake haunted her dreams. An innocent turned into a monstrosity.

[imaginaryelle]

Thanks to @morphia-writes​ for beta help, and to @miyuki4s for all the brainstorming help that went into this chapter!

An excerpt:

There are some things Lan Wangji cannot doubt: Wei Ying’s love for his sister, and her children. His affection for Jiang Wanyin, and the Wens. His dedication to ensuring that Lan Wangji himself does not succumb to the curse he carries.

Every evening, he creates a fresh talisman to replaces the one on Lan Wangji’s arm. He brews one of three different medicinal teas from Wen Qing, in sequence, and serves it, sometimes drinking a portion or two himself. He invites Lan Wangji to play Rest as a duet for the suppressed, resentful souls they carry, and then other, less spiritually charged music, and asks after his core, after their evening meditations.

Every morning, Lan Wangji takes longer than he needs to to comb his hair, and tie it up, and dress. Wei Ying looks younger in the diffused dawnlight inside the tent. Softer, sprawled carelessly under blankets with his sleep robe twisted out of place to reveal the hollow of his elbow and the line of his collar bones.

It’s an indulgence Lan Wangji shouldn’t permit himself. A few moments, watching Wei Ying breathe and concentrating on the steady warmth of the soulbond under his own skin.

Read on tumblr under the cut!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 |

*

It takes more than one day for a sect leader to prepare for the sort of journey they’re planning. Not because of the journey itself, Wei Ying is quick to point out, but because of all the things he has to make sure are done beforehand.

“Wen Qing is locking me in my study today,” he says over breakfast on the first day, “but Sizhui, Xiuying and Weixin are meeting with a tailor for new clothes and you should go.”

As he has been wearing borrowed or stolen clothes for several days now, Lan Wangji cannot bring himself to protest. He has no desire to wear extra infirmary underlayers while traveling, and the plain black outer layer Wen Qionglin had brought to his door was clearly intended to fit as many people as possible. Commissioning something new, or at least something altered to fit properly, is only reasonable.

Wei Ying insists that he’s already paid for the service, which Lan Wangji can only thank him for; he has no funds of his own, or reputation to call on.

“Get something you like,” Wei Ying tells him, even as Wen Qing looms over his shoulder. “Anything you want is fine.”

Lan Wangji assumes this event will take place within Yiling-Wei’s walls, as was generally the case in Cloud Recesses, but instead he finds himself following Wen Sizhui, Zhou Xiuying and Liu Weixin through a town that looks much more prosperous than the Yiling he visited thirteen years ago, and is almost certainly louder and more crowded than he remembers.

That impression may be influenced by his company. Certainly he had felt there were entirely too many people in the street when he was surrounded by onlookers with a toddler clutching at his leg, but if anything their small group draws even more attention now.

Everyone seems to know Wen Sizhui. There are street hawkers and shop owners who greet him by name, and press freshly steamed baozi and sticks of hawthorn candy into his hands, and it is clear from their comments that the townspeople of Yiling are close to their Sect in a way that is certainly not true of Cloud Recesses and Caiyi, or Jinlingtai and Lanling. One merchant is so insistent on thanking them for some past service that all four of them end up holding packages of lotus root, despite the fact that Lan Wangji can have had nothing to do with solving the woman’s problems.

The pattern continues inside the tailor’s shop—the young Wei cultivators are being fitted with new black outer yi and trousers designed to the Jiang Clan’s specifications for the upcoming archery tournament, but they are all clearly well-known to the staff. And Lan Wangji has come with the Sect Leader’s express instructions. And also the offer of his purse.

“Wei-zongzhu said you might prefer these,” one of the tailor’s assistants says, his hands full of fine-woven cream and blue fabrics, “but we do have other colors, of course.”

None of the fabrics on display are the shining, pure white of Gusu-Lan, but there is sun-bleached silk and cloud-white cotton and pale wool woven thinner than paper. It doesn’t seem to matter what he says, or how he responds: he is fussed over, and measured, and prodded. Silk and wool and brocade are draped over his shoulders and held up to his face for comparisons of shade and texture, and he leaves the shop—it is much later in the afternoon than he expected—with the black robe he arrived in newly altered and a sash of summerweight wool dyed the blue of a pale spring morning tied around his waist. Travel clothes, he is assured, will be delivered in the next few days.

He could not bring himself to commission a forehead ribbon, in any color; he is already quite certain these new robes will exceed any budget or social standing Liang Feihong could expect to claim. Wei Ying seems unconcerned.

“It’s a gift,” he insists after dinner. “Besides, you’re still a cultivator, and you’re traveling with a sect leader. It’d be weird if you looked like a fisherman.”

Lan Wangji is certain there are several measures of difference between the dress of a fisherman, a rogue cultivator, and the fabrics that were held before his face today.

“Look at this map with me,” Wei Ying says, the topic apparently closed. “I’m trying to figure out which roads are least likely to be blocked by mudslides. Wen Qing says if I get on a boat during the spring rains she’ll kill me now to save herself the trouble of burying me later.”

Lan Wangji may not have any formal responsibilities at Yiling-Wei, but Wen Qing makes it clear that she expects marked improvement in his spiritual power before he leaves her area of influence. He is given a list of meditation exercises and a schedule of daily training sessions for sword and unarmed work with her apprentices on hand to monitor his condition.

This is not a hardship. He had already planned to dedicate most of his time to this task, and the Wei cultivators have a unique style—not quite Yunmeng-Jiang, but not Qishan-Wen either. Wei Ying, of course, is the most practiced in it, and his version does not even involve a sword; Suibian is distinctly absent from their training sessions, but this does not seem to affect Wei Ying’s efficacy. Twice Lan Wangji is not fast enough to avoid the touch of a talisman to his shoulder, or his core.

He takes no actual damage from them—Wei Ying is careful in his craft, and these were written specifically for this purpose, but the failure drives him to train harder, even against other sparring opponents, until whatever apprentice is observing him steps in and orders a rest.

He spends this enforced downtime reading theory texts from Wen Qing’s library or at his guqin, picking out simple practice scores and more complex Lan melodies in the hope of re-training both his fingers and his core in the delicate language required for performing Inquiry. He works outside, in the scattered gardens, whenever the weather allows. A few hours spent alone in his shuttered room during a sudden storm proves detrimental to his focus, no matter how many handstands he does, or what other meditation techniques he tries. It is better to be out in the open air, where he can breathe more easily.

“Lan Zhan!” On the afternoon of the third day Wei Ying leans around the mulberry tree on the other side of a plot dedicated largely to cooking herbs. He looks around as if he thinks they’re being watched, and then all but runs over to crouch next to Lan Wangji. “I want to show you something,” he whispers. He tugs on Lan Wangji’s sleeve. “Come on, quick!”

“Something” turns out to be the paddock, where a 2-day-old foal is taking in the outside world for the first time under his mother’s watchful eyes. Wei Ying drapes himself over the fence and watches them both with a rapt expression Lan Wangji has never seen him wear before. Zhou Xiuying is also in attendance, alongside her wife—Feng Xinyi—who he learns is the one of the Wei Sect’s grooms.

“Xiaoying and Heitu are just one pasture over, if you wanted to meet them,” she says, which is how Lan Wangji learns that Wei Ying intends to travel by mule.

“Do you know how hard it is to feed a horse?” he says as they walk through tall grass flushed green with the rains. “Have you ever tried to train a horse for night hunting? In a Yunmeng summer? The heat is terrible for them. I think the only reason Jiang Cheng still has horses is his grandmother sent a whole caravan of grooms and breeding stock from Meishan when the war ended.” He produces two apples from his sleeve and holds one out to the nearest mule and the other to Lan Wangji. “Mules are better,” he says, his tone flippant as he pets Xiaoying’s long nose. “And almost as impressive.”

Xiaoying and Heitu are undeniably beautiful animals; good conformation, clearly healthy, and their dark bay coats shine red in the sunlight. And Lan Wangji knows that he will not be able to travel by sword for some time yet. Not alone. He cannot expect Wei Ying to transport them both, and walking will be too slow. Riding makes sense.

“Little Shadow?” he asks, of Wei Ying’s mount. “And … Black Rabbit?” They are hardly the sorts of names he is accustomed to hearing for a cultivator’s steed. There is little sense of speed, or power, or even luck in these names. Wei Ying shrugs.

“Xiaoying used to lie in the grass and pretend to be dead. Sizhui tripped over her all the time, and then she’d follow him for hours. And Heitu likes to jump, she hopped all over the place as a filly--ah! Lan Zhan!” He grins, gleeful, mischief in his face. “Do you remember the rabbits I gave you, all those years ago? And now I can give you another one! A bigger one!” Wei Ying laughs, just as he had laughed in Cloud Recesses, depositing two rabbits on the floor of the library, some sort of gift and joke and torment all in one, Lan Wangji had been sure.

Lan Wangji hadn’t known what to do then, with the boy who refused to leave him alone, who insisted on teasing him at every opportunity. Now, he stares at Wei Ying’s hands, at long sleeves pulled back to reveal his wrists, at his lips, and he knows what he wants to do.

He steps closer to Heitu, offers her his hands in a bowl instead of reaching out beyond her.

“I remember,” he says. It’s possible that his brother allowed his pets to stay, after his death.

Unlikely. But possible.

Heitu snuffles at his hands, all warm breath and soft nose in a way that is, in some small semblance, reminiscent of the soft warmth of his rabbits. She bears nothing like their fragility, but she takes the apple he offers delicately, and he keeps his fingers well clear of her teeth. Wei Ying strokes Xiaoying’s face and talks sweetly at her until she takes his sleeve in her mouth, at which point he switches over to annoyed admonishments. Lan Wangji has just stepped nearer to help him when Wen Qionglin appears at Wei Ying’s shoulder.

“Qing-jie wants to know if you finished that letter to Ouyang-zongzhu yet,” he says.

Wei Ying jerks, and there’s a sound of tearing cloth. He sighs.

“Feng-shimei told you to stop keeping food in your sleeves,” Wen Qionglin notes, even as he distracts Xiaoying with a hand on her neck. She drops Wei Ying’s sleeve and nudges her nose into Wen Qionglin’s chest. Both animals seem accustomed to his presence.

“I took it out as soon as we got here,” Wei Ying grumbles. “I wouldn’t have torn anything if I wasn’t surprised.” He sticks his fingers through the tear in his sleeve and wiggles them. The look on his face can only be described as a pout.

“I can fix it for you—” Wen Qionglin actually looks worried. Wei Ying just sighs and flaps his sleeve.

“I’ll fix it,” he says. “Why should you fix it? It’s fine.” He frowns at Xiaoying for a moment, then leans into Lan Wangji’s shoulder.

“I really can’t recommend becoming a sect leader,” he says, low-voiced, as if this will affect Wen Qionglin’s hearing. “The number of letters you have to respond to is too much work. I don’t think Ouyang-zongzhu even reads them, he just sends some new complaint every few weeks, as if I can control the weather, or the river, or how sleepy his cultivators get when they’re on tower duty.”

Lan Wangji has never heard his brother or his uncle make similar complaints, but they are Lans; they would not say such a thing even if it were true.

“Did you not choose the position?” he asks.

Wei Ying’s face scrunches up with displeasure. He shakes his head, though whether it is denial or dismissal is impossible to determine.

“I better get back to it,” he says instead of answering the question. “Before Wen Qing tells the kitchens to put radish in my food again.”

He sighs, and waves aside Lan Wangji’s bow. “I’ll see you both at dinner,” he says, and Wen Qionglin nods. Lan Wangji watches Wei Ying walk back up the hill towards the main compound until Heitu seems to take offense to his distraction and knocks her head against his shoulder, huffing at him.

“Does Liang-gongzi know how to ride?” Wen Qionglin asks. It’s a fair question: Lan Wangji does not actually know if Liang Feihong was trained in riding. He prevaricates. What is true for him is just as likely to be true for Liang Feihong as not.

“It has been a long time.”

“Would you like to practice?” Wen Qionglin asks, and Lan Wangji agrees without hesitation. Practice, and especially practice in caring for his mount without servants to help, can only improve the upcoming journey.

Wen Qionglin shows him to the tack room, and he manages to brush and saddle Heitu with a minimum of fuss. The main difference between outfitting a horse and a mule, he finds, is that Heitu’s tack includes two belly cinches, there is an extra strap that goes under her tail to stop the saddle moving too far forward, and he has to be especially gentle with her long ears while placing the bridle. Xiaoying is the more mischievous of the pair, Wen Qionglin tells him, and has to be watched carefully so she doesn’t puff out her stomach and make the cinches too loose.

Riding is initially awkward, but after a few slow circuits of the paddock he finds his seat and is able to push Heitu faster without losing his balance too badly. She takes direction well, has a steady, comfortable gait, and doesn’t startle as easily as some horses he’s ridden. He will almost certainly be sore later, especially without a dependable supply of spiritual power to speed healing, but the wind in his face and the simple pleasures of riding are more than worth that discomfort. He turns back toward the stables when they have both worked up a light sweat and sees Feng Xinyi speaking with Wen Qionglin. She smiles as he approaches, but doesn’t stay.

“I should get back to the little one,” she says. “But I’m glad to know Heitu will have a rider who knows what he’s doing.”

Wen Qionglin leads Heitu to a water trough and pets her cheek until Feng Xinyi is out of earshot.

“Wei-zongzhu trusts you,” he says. As if this is a fact.

Lan Wangji stares back at him. Wen Qionglin does not breathe, and he does not blink. He stands perfectly, unnaturally still, and waits. Apparently some response is required.

He settles on, “I trust him, also.”

Wen Qionglin watches him for a moment longer, and then nods. Then he says, “If he truly needs help, I will know. No matter where he is. And I am very fast.”

Oh.

This is probably intended as a threat.

Lan Wangji slides off Heitu’s back, so that they are eye to eye.

“I mean him no harm,” he says. In his current state of spiritual power it’s almost reassuring to know that someone else is concerned for Wei Ying's welfare. It should not be at all surprising, but he finds he is often surprised by Wen Qionglin, who has continued to move and talk and physically reside with his family for over a decade when everything Lan Wangji has been taught says he should not even exist.

Those same teachings would object to his own new existence as well; they are, both of them, supposed to be long dead.

“I will not let him come to harm,” he says, “if I can help it.”

He worries for a moment that this will be too revealing, but Wen Qionglin does not question him further. Perhaps he doesn’t need to. They are both well aware of the loyalty Wei Ying can inspire, under the right circumstances.

“I will show you where to find the saddle bags and travel rations,” Wen Qionglin decides, and he doesn’t speak of anything but Xiaoying and Heitu’s care and habits for the rest of the afternoon.

The evening before their planned departure, Wen Qing summons Lan Wangji once more to her study. Wei Ying arrives partway through her examination of his meridians and, surprisingly, sits quietly beside her desk until she’s finished. When she nods he joins them both behind the privacy screen and produces two cloth-wrapped packages—in one, two coiled lengths of red silk string, and in the other a pale jade carving of an endless panchang knot.

“Our hope is to give your spiritual power a new path through your meridians,” Wen Qing tells him as she inspects the strings. “One that minimizes the curse’s influence.” She blocks the meridians at his shoulder with her needles, and then ties one string to his arm, above the curse mark, and the other below it, each secured with a cloverleaf knot and sealed with a touch of spiritual power.

Wei Ying leans in close and presses two fingers to the talisman over the curse mark, but doesn’t touch either the silk or the jade. He keeps his silence. Lan Wangji watches his face and cannot read his thoughts.

“Just making sure this doesn’t interrupt us,” he says when he sees Lan Wangji watching. He holds up a second talisman in his other hand. “Wouldn’t want to have to start over in the middle.”

It’s a reasonable precaution: Tying the new charm is a long process, a progression of knots that covers most of his forearm. The jade panchang knot is tied in just above the curse mark, and another panchang knot of red silk tied below the wound. Wen Qing and Wei Ying both study it closely, and then she removes her needles and takes his wrist again, walking him through a slow meditation, cycling spiritual power through his body.

The flow of power is smoother, though it does perhaps take a little more time than he expects.

Wei Ying removes his fingers with a nod and a sigh. Wen Qing smiles, satisfied.

“The talisman will still need to be reapplied regularly,” she says, “but these charms together should be enough to minimize the curse’s effect on your meridians, so your core can begin to heal.”

It has already begun. He can feel the difference.

“Thank you.” The words seem inadequate, but he has little else to offer. Even this, she waves aside.

“I’m sure you don’t need my guidance for the proper exercises, but I do have many more theory texts, if you wish to read them.”

“We can bring some along,” Wei Ying promises. “Most of the best ones, we have more than one copy.”

Lan Wangji thinks of the library—of the many books that bear the same hand. Some copied by Wen Qing. Some by Wei Ying. Others in a clear, steady hand he doesn’t recognize. Of the single bound copy of the Lan Clan rules he’d found next to a copy of the Wen principles, and the books that he doubts his brother knows exist, copies of texts that were available to guest disciples studying at Cloud Recesses.

He wonders if his brother knew, when he was rebuilding the Library Pavilion, just how exact Wei Ying’s memory can be.

“Thank you,” he says again.

“Get some sleep,” Wen Qing says. “Both of you.” She stares hard at Wei Ying. “I’m not going to be the one dragging you out of your rooms in the morning. It’s no matter to me if you miss traveling during the coolest part of the day.”

Traveling with Wei Ying, and only with Wei Ying, is different from traveling alone, or with other Lan disciples, and different again from his memories of travel during the Sunshot Campaign. Then, Wei Ying had shifted through moods like ripples in water, sometimes predictable but more often not. A laugh like a clash of swords, a glare that pierced like needles. More than once Lan Wangji had found him alone but for the poor company the dead might provide, brooding under a shadow that seemed to cling to him even on the clearest of days. And then he would turn and ask if Lan Wangji knew this or that song, or if he wanted to spar, or if he’d eaten because surely it must be time for the next meal by now, and Lan Wangji would push aside his concern until hours later, when Wei Ying was just as likely to pull a prank as get in a fight with an ally. A fight with Lan Wangji himself, more often than not.

But that was the war. Decades ago, now, for everyone but Lan Wangji himself.

Now, Wei Ying laughs with more humor, and the cant of his eyes is merely sly rather than cutting. He grumbles through his breakfast and morning tea. He bickers with Xiaoying while saddling her and slouches through the morning hours until some unknown precondition is met, and then he begins talking aloud about whatever is on his mind at the moment: the weather, which continues to be wet, with cool mornings and steamy afternoons, or theories on their two investigations, or tales of past night hunts, which quickly shift into stories of Wen Sizhui, or Jiang Wanyin and Jin Rulan, and from there to the other members of Yiling-Wei, and Yunmeng-Jiang, and Lanling-Jin. Once, when they stop and take shelter under a half-repaired watchtower to wait out a storm, Wei Ying says, “Ah, Lan Zhan, do you remember that week we had rain every day, in Gusu?” and he speaks of Lan Xichen, and the Lan Sect, and what little he knows of its current status.

Cloud Recesses has been rebuilt, reportedly exactly as it was before the Wens attacked. Lan Qiren still teaches, and Lan Wangji feels a swell of relief to know his uncle still breathes. The Sect still hosts a year-long seminar for young disciples of any sect, every few years. Wen Sizhui, Liu Weixin and Zhou Xiuying have attended it, and returned with reports of young Lan cultivators who Wen Sizhui described as friendly, Liu Weixin called unbearably rigid, and Zhou Xiuying pronounced worthy sparring opponents. Lan Xichen has, unsurprisingly, built a widely-spoken reputation for even-mindedness that Lan Wangji knows he himself could never hope to match.

There is no bitterness to any of Wei Ying’s tales. No mention of hardship or enmity, over a span of more than a decade that Lan Wangji knows cannot have been easy, especially near its start. But then, Lan Wangji has long known that Wei Ying lies more easily than he tells the truth, omits more than he ever says openly. Even when he was living among the Mass Graves, quite obviously short on food, the only hardship Wei Ying would admit to was a lack of visitors, and news.

Still, there are some things he cannot doubt: Wei Ying’s love for his sister, and her children. His affection for Jiang Wanyin, and the Wens. His dedication to ensuring that Lan Wangji himself does not succumb to the curse he carries.

Every evening, he creates a fresh talisman to replaces the one on Lan Wangji’s arm. He brews one of three different medicinal teas from Wen Qing, in sequence, and serves it, sometimes drinking a portion or two himself. He invites Lan Wangji to play Rest as a duet for the suppressed, resentful souls they carry, and then other, less spiritually charged music, and asks after his core, after their evening meditations.

Every morning, Lan Wangji takes longer than he needs to to comb his hair, and tie it up, and dress. Wei Ying looks younger in the diffused dawnlight inside the tent. Softer, sprawled carelessly under blankets with his sleep robe twisted out of place to reveal the hollow of his elbow and the line of his collar bones.

It’s an indulgence Lan Wangji shouldn’t permit himself. A few moments, watching Wei Ying breathe and concentrating on the steady warmth of the soulbond under his own skin.

He turns away. Steps outside. Rekindles the fire for breakfast.

During the long afternoon of the fourth day, after they have shared a quick lunch beside a clear-flowing stream and are letting Xiaoying and Heitu forage their own meal, Wei Ying draws out Chenqing and plays songs that seem to be purely for personal entertainment; there is no spiritual power behind them at all. Some, Lan Wangji recognizes as common to drinking houses and inns. Others he doesn’t recognize at all. He is considering unwrapping the guqin when Wei Ying’s somewhat random little melodies turn suddenly familiar.

Not just familiar.

Every note is etched into Lan Wangji’s soul.

Wei Ying catches him staring. He’s not certain what expression his own face is making, but Wei Ying looks suddenly defensive. His hands drop to his lap, wrapping around Chenqing as if Lan Wangji will try to tear the flute away from him.

“What?”

“You remember.” Lan Wangji shouldn’t be surprised—Wei Ying has remembered enough of his brief time at Cloud Recesses to reproduce the Lan Sect’s rules and three different treatises, and that’s only what Lan Wangji found. But it had been only once, in the Xuanwu’s cave. That song has only ever had an audience of one.

Wei Ying frowns at him.

“What ...” his eyebrows rise high on his forehead, his mouth forming a perfect circle. “Lan Zhan.” He leans forward, suddenly eager. “Lan Zhan, you know this song?”

Of course he knows it. How could he not?

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying continues. “No one knows this song. How do you know it? Is it a Lan Clan song? What’s its name?”

Words stick in Lan Wangji’s throat. Wei Ying doesn’t remember. Not really. He looks away. At the play of light on water. The swirl of shadowy fish, underneath.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says again, moving closer. “I can never remember where I heard it, and no one ever recognizes it. How do you know it?”

No one ever recognizes it, he says. Which means Wei Ying has been playing it. For other people. For thirteen years. And he doesn’t know.

Lan Wangji swallows back his foolish hopes. The words he might have said.

“I wrote it,” he admits, to the low rush of the spring and the whisper of reeds in the light breeze.

“What?”

When he risks a glance back, Wei Ying is staring. He looks utterly shocked.

“What do you mean, you wrote it?”

Lan Wangji does not want to have this conversation. Not now. Not if Wei Ying doesn’t remember something so important.

At least, it had been important to Lan Wangji.

“We should keep moving,” he says, and stands. Heitu is drinking from the stream, but she only flicks her ears when he touches her shoulder, and doesn’t offer any more protest than a shift of her weight as he unties her hobble and mounts.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying is frowning at him.

“We are wasting daylight,” Lan Wangji tells him. It’s true enough. This break is no shorter than any other.

Wei Ying grumbles. Retrieves his things.

“What’s its name?” he asks as he settles on Xiaoying.

I have already told you. Lan Wangji locks the words behind his teeth. Wei Ying does not speak of the soul bond, never broaches the topic of their battle with the Xuanwu or anything else from their lives that occurred after he left Cloud Recesses months before any other disciple, does not remember this, despite Lan Wangji telling him, despite his clear memory of the music itself and his perfect recall of texts long burnt to ashes.

“Think about it.” He says instead, and urges Heitu into a quicker pace, too fast for easy conversation.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying calls after him, but Lan Wangji does not look back.

When Wei Ying catches up he speaks of other things, and does not mention the song again.

Notes:        

For the curious, Xiaoying and Heitu are named as references to famous horses from Romance of the Three Kingdoms. 絶影 (sometimes translated as "Suppressing Shadow" or "Shadow Runner") was one of the horses of Cao Cao, head of the state of Wei. He famously kept running despite taking three arrows, and thus saved his rider from enemies. 赤兔 (Red Hare) was described as "the best of horses" and within the tale people considered him to be too good for his original master. After that master died he was given to a new, more virtuous hero (Guan Yu, sometimes described as an ideal incarnation of loyalty and righteousness), who he was extremely loyal to.

(on to part 11)

[thetravelerwrites]

Arkag (Orc) MLM

Rating: Mature Relationship: Male Human/Male Orc Additional Tags: Exophilia, Male Reader, Reader Insert, Orc Boyfriend, MLM Content Warnings: Missing Limb, PSTD, Flashbacks Words: 3415

Another commission for @severedreamerbeard​! A young man encounters a mysterious, secretive orc who lives on the outskirts of his village. During a sudden storm, the orc has a violent flashback to the day he lost his arm, and the reader helps him cope. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

There was a bit of a legend in your town about the woodcutter that lived outside the village borders. He’d lived there since before you moved to the village and he was an orc, that much you knew, but there was precious little else anyone could tell you that wasn’t speculation or rumors.

Some said he was a war criminal who’d committed heinous crimes and was cast out of his stronghold. Some said he was being hunted for desertion by his clan. Some said he was a smuggler who was using his work in the village as a front. A few folks wanted to run him out of town for fear that he’d bring the wrath of whatever he was escaping from down on townspeople’s heads, though he was so large that few people seemed to be willing to follow through. Besides, he didn’t technically live in town, so it wasn’t as if he was really bothering anyone.

All you knew was that he supplied the town with firewood, which he would drop off on every person’s doorsteps in the dead of night when most people were sleeping. He had a dislike for people or being seen, so he did most of his work when it was dark and he could be alone.

The most unusual thing about him was something you’d seen with your own eyes but no one had mentioned: he only had one arm.

You had gotten up one night when you were ill with food poisoning and gone out to get sick at the edge of the field near your house. During a brief respite, while you were gasping for air, you saw the figure of the orc step silently out of the woods on the footpath, the hand cart he pulled behind him as quiet as he was. You watched in the dim light of the moon as he stopped at your door, let go of the hand cart, picked up a bundle of wood wrapped in twine, dropped it on your doorstep, and continued on his way. All one handed.

His entire left arm was missing and the left sleeve of his tunic was sewn shut unevenly. His ill-fitting clothes were plain and worn, likely the cheapest he could buy if he hadn’t scavenged them from somewhere. It hurt your pride a little as a tailor to see him wearing such rags. He wasn’t wearing a coat either, despite the chill of the autumn night, and his boots looked pretty beat up.

He was as big as everyone said he was, though he looked thinner than you expected, almost lanky. His hair was cut short, rough and jagged, looking as though he’d done it himself somehow, but you couldn’t determine its color in this light.  

You’d almost forgotten that you were sick for a few minutes as you watched from the shadows as he made his way down the block and dropped off the wood at each door. Did he get paid for this service? You’d never paid him before, and most people in town were terrified of him, so you didn’t think they went out of their way to make sure he got his due for the work. Did he do it for free? Why?

After a moment of watching and pondering, your body abruptly remembered that it had eaten some bad eggs and you hurled what was left in your stomach into the brush. You tried to be quiet about it, but it’s hard to make a distressed belly obey or mask the wet splashing of sick in the dewy grass. The force and pressure of heaving actually caused you to black out.

When you awoke, you were inside your home, lying on your bed, and you saw someone moving around in the dark.

“Who’s there?” You croaked roughly, your throat raw from vomiting.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” A deep male voice responded. A cup of water was pressed into your hand. “Drink this. I saw you pass out. Sick as you are, you’d likely have caught a killing fever if I left you there.”

You took a sip dutifully. A match was struck and a candle lit near the door, illuminating the face of the thin orc woodcutter.

“Oh, it’s you,” You said.

“Yeah. It’s me,” He replied flatly. “I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.” He raked up the coals in the fireplace of your room and threw in a few logs, bringing the fire back to life. In this light, you could see his hair was a soft brown color, and his eyes matched. His skin wasn’t green, like most orcs you’d seen, but an dark red ochre color. You tried hard not to stare at his missing arm.

“Thank you,” you rasped, taking another cautious sip of water. “What’s your name?”

“Arkag,” He said. “Not that it matters. We likely won’t speak again.”

“Why not?” You asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” He said. “I need to go soon. I have to finish the deliveries before sun up.”

“Why?”

“I make people nervous,” He said simply. “It’s best if no one sees me.”

“I see…” You said sadly. He sounded detached and resigned. You felt terrible for him and had to wonder what led him to living such a solitary life. You were almost certain it had to do with his arm, but you couldn’t dig up the courage to ask him about it. “Well, let me repay you for your kindness.”

“No need,” He said.

“Really, I insist. I’m a tanner and a tailor. I could make you a coat! You need one; it’s going to get colder soo--”

“No!” Arkag shouted. “I don’t need your charity and I’m not looking to make friends. Don’t make me regret helping you.” He stalked out of your room and to the front door and left without another word.

You grimaced and grumbled. You didn’t care what he’d said. This wasn’t about charity; it was entirely possible that he saved your life. A coat was the least you could do to repay him.

Once you’d recovered from your illness, you hired a hunter to bring you back as big a pelt as they could find. You knew you’d need a big animal to clothe Arkag and you wanted it to be all one piece. Nothing you had currently in your stock was adequate.

It took you more than two months to tan the leather, and then another two weeks to waterproof it. Sewing the coat took less a few days. By the time the coat was finished, it was well into winter and the snowfall was getting heavy. You wished you’d had the chance to start this project this sooner. Either way, it was done, and you went out during the day to find Arkag’s house.

You followed the beaten footpath deep into the forest and eventually found a small cottage in a circular clearing. The cottage seemed to be a single well-built room made of grey stone thatched with dry reeds and clay. It had a small garden in the front, though it was mostly empty currently, save for a few winter vegetables. You didn’t see him anywhere, and there was no smoke in the chimney, so you assumed he was out working. You left the coat, folded and wrapped in waxed parchment, on the stoop of his front door and left.

That night in the early hours, you were awoken by a loud banging on your door.

“Open up!” You heard Arkag growl.

Aggravated, you wrapped your blanket around you and went and flung the front door open.

“And what time do you call this?” You snapped.

Arkag had the coat clutched in his fist and threw it at you. “I told you I didn’t want your charity!”

“It’s not charity!” You yelled back. “I wanted to make it! I’m just repaying you for helping me!”

“I don’t want anything from you! I don’t want anything from anyone! Leave me alone!” He spun and stomped off.

You huffed and slammed your door. Months of careful work gone to waste because of one stubborn ass. The coat had been made for Arkag and it wouldn’t fit anyone else. You sighed forcefully and put the coat back on the body form.

The next day you went out to hunt. You could catch small game just fine; anything bigger than a deer, though, and you usually either went with a party or hired a more experienced hunter. You were low on meat and thought a small boar would last you a good month or so, if you dried and salted it properly. Plus, you wanted to make yourself some new soft boots for spring.

As you shrugged on your quiver, Arkag’s coat caught your eye. On impulse, you snatched it from the body form and folded it, stowing it in your satchel. You weren’t sure why you did, but maybe you could talk some sense into that block-headed orc.

A few hours tracking had produced nothing, and you were wondering if you shouldn’t just settled for a few rabbits when you felt the air electrify and the small hairs on your neck stand on end. Looking up, you saw that the clouds were darkening and decided to give up the hunt for today. A storm was coming.

You heard thunder in the distance and you hastened your steps. Thunder and lightning during snow storms was unusual, especially in the middle of winter. You had a feeling this one would be bad.

Just as you were coming to the place where the trees opened up a bit, you heard the crack of lightning hitting a tree, startling you. What startled you even more was the blood-curdling scream that followed. You broke into a run and followed the sound with your heart in your throat.

The snow was falling as you stumbled into the clearing that housed Arkag’s cottage. Arkag was on his knees next to his chopping block, an axe lying nearby, wailing as though he were in pain, though you couldn’t immediately see any wound. There was a smoldering tree nearby that must have been struck by the bolt.

“Arkag!” You shouted, running to him. “Arkag! Are you alright?”

“My arm!” He cried. “My arm!”

You looked at his right arm and inspected it frantically for injuries. “It’s alright! You’re arm’s fine! Arkag, you’re fine!”

“My arm! Oh gods, my arm!”

“Arkag, you’re arm isn’t hurt! You’re--” You realized then that his right hand was grasping for his missing left arm. Arkag was shaking violently and sobbing, his eyes wide and unseeing. You wanted to help him, but you weren’t sure what you could do. You were leery of touching him, concerned you would make it worse or that he’d lash out.

The only thing you could think of was the coat. He was only wearing his beat up boots, ill-fitting trousers, and the messily sewn tunic. Perhaps orcs had a higher cold tolerance than humans, but he still had to be feeling this weather. Shaking your head, you took out the coat and lay it over his shoulders carefully, trying not to jostle or alarm him.

The thunder continued to roll and the snow continued to fall as you knelt next to Arkag, keeping watch over him until this… flashback, you guessed, passed. Slowly, ever so slowly, Arkag seemed to come back to himself as the snow collected on both of you. This close, you could see that one of his tusks was cracked down the middle and rather grey in color compared to its twin, which was the normal yellow-white.

“Arkag,” You said softly. “We need to get inside before we freeze. The snow is going to get worse and it’ll be dark soon.”

Arkag blinked rapidly and wiped his face. He’d stopped crying but was still shivering. “Go ahead,” Arkag said in a low, brusque tone. “You can make fun of me now.”

Your head rocked back. “Why on earth would I make fun of you?”

He scoffed. “Forget it,” Arkag growled, attempting to stand but stumbling.

You rushed to catch him. “Here, let me--”

Arkag pushed you away, and you fell backward on your butt.

“What was that for?” You asked indignantly.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Arkag said, falling back to a knee. “Leave me alone.”

“Would you stop being stubborn?” You said, shoving yourself to a standing position and taking his arm. “Do you want to freeze?”

“I don’t care!” He shouted at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Stop being dramatic and let me help you, you idiot!”

He attempted to shake you, but the episode had left him weakened. After a moment of trying to fend you off, you eventually got him to his feet and steered him toward his cottage.

Inside was simple and undecorated. There was a fire pit in the center of the single room that was lit, over which was a spit and a grate where a kettle or pan could be placed. There was no bed; instead there was a padded mat covered in furs that he likely slept on. There was a cabinet with jars of food, shelves with random knick-knacks, and a table with a single chair.

Strangely, though there wasn’t much actually in the cottage, it was very cluttered. There were various bones from previous meals thrown into a corner. There was an open trunk with clothes spilling out of it, both washed and unwashed. There were dirty dishes in a basin. The floor was unswept and straw-strewn. You got the feeling that he wasn’t necessarily a slob, he just didn’t care to pick up after himself.

You led him to the chair and he fell heavily into it.

“Where’s your kettle?” You asked.

He pointed at the basin and you went over, finding the kettle underneath a wash cloth. It was rusted and beat up, but it seemed mostly clean. You filled it with water from a barrel near the table and set the kettle on the grate over the fire. You found a clean mug and a canister with tea leaves.

“I don’t want tea,” He said churlishly. “I want ale. Or whiskey.”

“You need tea,” You replied firmly. “We need to raise your body temperature. It’s your own fault for gallivanting around without a coat.”

“Alcohol warms me better,” He grumbled.

“That’s actually a myth,” You told him as you warmed your hands by the fire, waiting for the water to boil. “Alcohol doesn’t make you warmer, it just makes you feel like you are. You’re more likely to freeze to death because you feel like you’ve warmed up when you really haven’t.”

“Still want it,” Arkag said sourly.

“Drink the tea first, then we’ll see,” You said sternly. You stole furtive glances at him as you bustled around his small cottage, getting tea ready. At first, he simply sat there, staring at nothing, though over time, he looked down at the coat, touching it tentatively.

“You really made this?” He asked.

“Sure did,” You replied. “Took me two months to tan that moose skin.”

“Huh,” He hummed. “I used to be able to do things like this. Well, not this; I couldn’t sew even when I had both arms. But I did a bit of skinning and tanning back in my day.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked neutrally.

“Not particularly,” He said.

You sifted some tea leaves into his mug and poured the water in, letting it steep for a moment before pushing the mug over to him and leaning against the wall.

“What about today? What happened today?”

Arkag stared at the mug distantly, wrapping his large hand around it to warm his fingers.

“The sound,” He whispered. “The sound of the tree cracking and snapping. It brought me right back to the day… this…” He waved vaguely at the missing arm. “The day this happened. My body locked up and I couldn’t move. I barely remember most of it. I heard your voice… but from far away. And I couldn’t see you. Why were you even here? The coat?”

“No, I heard you screaming.”

He looked up at you. “Was I screaming?”

You frowned in concern. “Does this happen often?”

“Not anymore,” He replied. “It did when I was younger. It’s why I left in the first place. I was mocked relentlessly by the clan. They didn’t understand that I couldn’t control it.” He took a large gulp of his tea and grimaced at the bitterness of it. “I’ve been alright for awhile now, but… the lightning… when it hit the tree… the sound it made… it just… caught me off guard, I guess.”

“I understand,” You said. “It scared you. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

He huffed a mirthless laugh. “You don’t know much about orcs, then.”

You laughed, too. “I’m afraid I don’t. I’ve hunted with a few, and I’ve had a couple in my shop, but I’ve never had an actual conversation with one.”

“Not surprising,” Arkag said. “Orcs keep to themselves. We’re a rowdy bunch, but only in places we feel comfortable, and that’s usually around other orcs. Outside of strongholds, we tend to be tight lipped and reserved. They teach us to be cautious around outsiders.”

“Aren’t you an outsider now?”

He shrugged. “Technically. If I wanted to, I could go back. But I don’t want to. I’m comfortable being alone.”

“Are you?” You asked, folding your arms.

He looked up and squinted at you, but didn’t answer.

A strange, heavy silence fell, and you looked out of the window that was next to your head. The thunder and lightning had ceased, but the storm was still in full swing. The snow was falling heavily and the wind was picking up. It was also getting dark.

“Well,” You said with a sigh. “If you’re alright, I should get going. If I don’t go now, I won’t get home before nightfall, and I don’t want to get stuck in this weather after dark.”

Arkag cleared his throat, but when you looked at him, he didn’t say anything.

“Yes?”

“Well…” He said slowly. “It’s… late. I suppose it’s safer for you to stay here until morning, at least. I don’t have much to offer, though.” He waved vaguely around the cottage.

“Oh,” You said in surprise. “Thanks. I don’t need much, just a space on the floor to sleep. As long as we keep the fire up, I’ll be plenty comfortable.” You eyed him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” He said, not meeting your eye. “You… you did help me. And you made me this nice coat.” He brushed a hand over the leather. “This is moose, you said? Awfully soft for moose.”

“I have a special ingredient for tougher leathers,” You told him. “Softens it but the material stays strong and lasts years. Take care of that coat and it’ll last a good decade and a half, at least.”

He seemed impressed. “Not bad.” He looked up at you, then away. “Thanks. For the coat. And… for not being an ass about… you know… earlier.”

“Are you really going to accept the coat?” You asked.

He sneered at you. “You want it back?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” You said. “I meant…” You shrugged lamely, shaking your head.“‘You’re welcome’.”

“Good,” He said, and you swore you almost saw a smile.

He offered you some dried meat and a jar of preserves for dinner, and the both of you turned in. You laid out your coat and rested your head on your satchel on the other end of the cottage while Arkag settled on his mat, using his new coat as a blanket.

You were comfortable but restless, thinking back on Arkag’s wild, terrified eyes and the anguished screaming. What could have caused such fear in him? What had he gone through that made him leave his clan and family behind? How long ago had it been? How long had he been dealing with it alone?

You watched him toss and turn in his sleep, mumbling and groaning. You wondered what dreams were visiting him, if he was reliving his personal nightmare right now. If they haunted him every night. If there was anything that gave him comfort. Looking around his cottage, you didn’t see anything particularly comforting.

With your thoughts in a roil, you turned over and eventually fell into an uneasy sleep.

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The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

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The Heartless: Chapter 4

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Chapter IV: in which ignorance is bliss

The next day found us in the next town over, a small farming village full of stout cottages and open pastures. Petra briefly suggested we snag a few vegetables from whichever farmer’s harvest looked the most plentiful, an idea I promptly shot down with a reminder that we don’t steal. She was not deterred, however, and I caught her more than once snatching a handful of berries or an almost-ripe cucumber out of some poor family’s garden.

On one such occasion, I caught her literally red-handed plucking raspberries off of a row of scraggly bushes behind a small cottage overgrown with vines snaking up the walls around a weather-worn wooden back door.

“Petra, how many times do I have to tell you to stop?” I scolded. “Every time I turn around you’re at it again. I thought we agreed before we left home that we weren’t here to steal.”

Petra stood up from her squatting position between the rows of bushes, dropping a handful of berries into her bag. “How many times do I have to tell you that I have done this a hundred times and have never been caught?” she retorted.

“You have been caught, Petra. Need I remind you yet again that I saved your life?”

“You and I both know that had very little to do with the food.” Petra stared at me incredulously, challenging me to argue further.

I took the bait. “Okay, fine, but that doesn’t change the fact that this food belongs to someone else.”

“Does it, Ace? Look around you!” Petra gestured broadly around us, at the overgrown house and untended garden rows full of weeds that came up past our ankles. To our right stood a run-down stable that looked like it hadn’t seen use in a very long time. I was beginning to consider the possibility that Petra was actually right when the back door clattered and a woman’s voice rang out over the garden.

“Do I know you two kids?” the voice asked, its owner scurrying through the garden towards us, holding a baby of no more than several months at her hip.

Serves me right, I thought, frozen in place at the woman’s approach like a deer at the sound of an arrow being unsheathed. Petra quickly hid her hands behind her back and kicked me lightly in the shin as if to say, be normal in front of this woman or I will leave you here and never come back.

“Sorry, ma’am,” I apologized when the woman stopped several feet from us, her free hand placed on her other hip. “My… sister doesn’t have any manners.”

At that, Petra kicked me again, this time not so lightly, though the motion was obscured from the woman’s view by the row of untrimmed bushes between us. I stifled a wince at the pain and shook my ankle discreetly, ignoring the odd look the woman gave me and every instinct in my bones telling me to run.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Petra echoed softly, sheepishly presenting her overflowing hands to the woman, and I bristled internally at how polite her tone was when she had kicked me moments before.

“Keep them,” the woman urged, to Petra’s quiet surprise. Then she examined our ratty clothing and, turning to me, she asked, “Are you both orphans?”

More or less, I thought. “Yes, ma’am,” I said aloud. “We’re on the road.”

The woman seemed to mull it over for a minute, rolling the idea around on her tongue for a while before she proposed, “Why don’t you help me clean up this place a bit? I’ve been so busy with the baby, lately, and there’s no one else here to help me. I can’t pay you, but I can give you some food and a place to sleep. I don’t have any spare beds, but I do have the stable. It’s been empty for quite some time, but there’s still plenty of hay to sleep on, and I may have some extra blankets.”

I had an excuse that I had been preparing the entire time she was speaking ready on the tip of my tongue when Petra broke in with a resounding, “We’d be honored, ma’am, thank you so much!” that gave me no room to protest.

“Wonderful! Let me put the baby down to sleep and then I’ll show you where the tools are.” The woman shifted the baby’s position on her hip and turned to go back inside. She called back over her shoulder, “My name is Esther, by the way!”

“I’m Petra, and my brother here is Ace!” Petra called in reply. Esther smiled wide and entered the house. When the door shut behind her, Petra turned on her heels and fixed me with her most exasperated expression.

“Why did you say yes? We could be caught!” I hissed before she had a chance to open her mouth.

“Caught doing what?” Petra shot back. “She already caught me stealing and is still choosing to be kind to us!”

I lowered my voice. “What if she figures out what we are?”

Petra narrowed her eyes at me. “How is that you’re the one who has lived on the outside and yet you’re more worried than me?”

“Because you need to learn that the more you press your luck, the closer you get to someone finding out the truth, and that never ends well.”

“You need to learn that not everyone is out to get you all the time. It’s not like you’re walking around with a big sign over your head that says, ‘Hey, look, I don’t have a pulse!’ If anything, acting like a paranoid weirdo all the time is what’s going to put a target on your back!”

I was going to argue further, but Esther returned then, carrying several baskets not unlike those we’d seen at the market the day before. She set them down amongst the raspberry bushes and gestured to a battered wooden bin by the back door.

“There should be some garden tools that my husband left behind over there,” she explained. “But let’s say we start by picking these berries before the animals get to them, and then next week one of the neighbors can take them to the market. That sound good? You can eat as many as you’d like—Well, not too many. I’m going to make some beans for supper.”

That seemed like an amicable enough arrangement, so I agreed, and Petra and I set to work while Esther went back inside to check on her sleeping child. We spent the rest of the afternoon filling basket after basket with the garden’s best raspberries, and taking breaks to lie back in the sun-baked dirt whenever Esther would come outside with something for us to drink or another story she wanted to tell.

When the blazing sun had just begun to dip below the horizon, Esther poked her head out the back door and called, “Supper is almost ready. Would you kids like to come inside to wash up?”

The prospect of “inside” felt daunting to me. Crossing the threshold into this strange woman’s home felt like overstepping some unspoken boundary, one that existed only in my own head to separate the relative safety of emotional distance from the dangers of familiarity. Out in the garden or in the forgotten stable, I could be merely a passing stranger. Entering the house, even if only for a few moments, felt like encroaching on something intimate and personal. Nevertheless, I trailed behind Petra into the tiny cottage, leaving my anxious thoughts in my wake.

The back door led into Esther’s small but lively kitchen. The windowsill was lined with tiny potted herbs, and in the corner stood a faded wooden table surrounded by three chairs to match. At its center sat a vase of striped carnations that made the whole house smell vaguely sweet. The walls were adorned with old portraits and photos of children and happy families, many with Esther and a man I assumed to be her husband. Esther stirred an old pot on the stove, the wood crackling softly as it slowly burned itself out. The baby could be heard cooing somewhere in a different room.

We ate our beans by the light of a small lantern out behind the house where it was cooler, out of small wooden bowls with delicate silver spoons that had clearly seen years of use but still managed to shine in the last fading sliver of sunlight.

Esther was a lot like that herself. She was a kind woman, soft around the edges, but she carried herself with the self-assured air of a person who knew she only had herself to count on. As the moon rose above the trees to replace the blistering sun, she told us about her life, as the baby slept in her arms. I learned that Esther’s husband had vanished on her about a year ago, leaving her to tend to their small farm by herself. She had been pregnant at the time and unable to work, and as time went by she was forced to sell what few animals they had and most of their equipment, leaving behind only what we saw before us. Since then, the farm had fallen into disrepair, and while it seemed clear to me that Esther’s neighbors were supporting her, I knew all too well the feeling that it simply was not enough.

“It gets a little lonely sometimes, with just me and the baby here,” Esther confessed. Then she smiled. “You two are welcome to stay here as long as you’d like. I welcome the help, and the company.”

I glanced down at my side, where Petra had already dozed off in the grass, before looking back at Esther and saying, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

I swallowed hard and averted my gaze out over the rows of raspberry bushes, the question laying heavy on my tongue. “What do you think it means to be alive?”

Esther hummed. “I think that would be different for every person. But to me, the point is to be happy, and to be a good person. Nothing more.”

I nodded. For the briefest of moments, I thought about telling Esther the truth. But the fear of being rejected, or worse, quickly swallowed that idea whole, and just as quickly as the thought had arrived, it was as if it had never existed.

The baby blinked back into wakefulness and stuck out a chubby arm towards me. Unthinking, I reached forward, and the baby pressed its tiny hand against my palm. The contact elicited a soft inhale, but I was left breathless. Esther merely chuckled. This baby, this precious child, knew nothing of curses or of what unexplained evils my calloused palms might hold. To them, we were one in the same, two pieces of the same star, floating under the same sky. I could never be sure if it were true, but that night, I had never been more certain of it.

 After supper that night, Basil and I sat in the tall grass behind his house, waiting for the fireflies to emerge as night fell over the village and the woods just beyond the yard. The summer heat was fading slowly into the gentle warmth of night, but I could not sit still.

“Stop fidgeting or the fireflies will get scared away,” Basil urged in a whisper.

I hesitated, twiddling my thumbs in my lap. “Basil, do you think that story Marcus was telling us is true?”

My best friend tensed momentarily. “About the curse? Why do you ask?” His voice was uncharacteristically flat, as though he were trying to keep it from wavering.

I shrugged in response.

"Well, I mean, I don’t think it matters if it’s true.”

“Maybe.” I paused. “M-Maybe we can go ask your parents if they’ve heard of it before.” I pushed up from the ground to walk back to the house.

“Don’t!” Basil’s hand quickly reached out and grabbed my wrist, sending me falling back to the ground. The fireflies rose from the grass and scattered.

Horrified at the contact, I tried to pull my arm away, but Basil had a vice grip on it. “W-Why not?” I yelped.

“Because if you tell them about it, they might send me away!” he blurted. We stared at each other in shock; Basil didn’t move, but a certain desperation had suddenly filled his eyes. A single brave firefly landed on the hand around my wrist, glowing against his skin, but still he did not move. As realization replaced desperation Basil slowly released his grip at last and quickly averted his eyes toward the dirt. (I wondered if he had noticed I had no pulse.) After a moment’s hesitation I reached a cautious, shaky hand out toward him, but he flinched and pulled away. Instead, I grabbed his hand and pressed his palm against my chest, ignoring the ingrained urge to flee that began to buzz beneath my skin. Basil tugged for a moment, until I felt his hand go still and saw the panic in his eyes settle into calm confusion; when I let go, he brought his hand to his face and stared at it in disbelief. Basil’s expression evolved quickly from shock to awe to relief, and when he tackled me to the ground in a hug, I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, and I cried at the feeling of being understood for the very first time.

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Hello! Can you do something with a very (VERY) clingy Arthur and a female reader. Modern times. Like she could be doing things and he calls a lot or texts a lot. But he does it outta love and cuz he’s scared of losing her

You’ve been in a relationship with Arthur for nearly a year. He works on a ranch only about thirty minutes out of the city you live in. There’s something incredibly refreshing about dating a rancher. Perhaps it’s the fact that he doesn’t live in the city, or that he retains a certain sense of masculinity that you find attractive. It’s not toxic luckily and Arthur’s always held a respect for you and other women, but he still holds himself to a certain standard. Plus he looks super good in his rugged clothes, worn out by years of use and faded by long hours in the sun. 

Every weekend, you’ll go and stay at his place. He offered to switch with you every other weekend to stay in your apartment, but you need the break from the crowded city and the rude people who live there. His ranch, nestled in a bowl made by mountains and cradled in a forest, is exactly the kind of release you need every week, even in the bitter cold winters. He doesn’t mind of course, and you know it saves him some money so he won’t have to hire someone to tend his livestock for two days. 

When you first started dating Arthur, he was incredibly respectful of your space and time, but after you were together for six months and finally slept together, something in him changed. Something better. He became more open with you and more touchy. You’d always been a bit touch-averted, a product of your childhood and a general distrust of people. There was something about him that made you able to warm up to him. You even found yourself longing for his touch and it didn’t help that when he held you against him, you fit like a puzzle piece. 

Over the last three months you’ve been with him, he’s gotten a little more clingy. He texts you every day, usually just asking how you are and what you’re up to. He also likes to video call you just about every night. When he first started doing it, you were kind of skeeved out about it, worried he’d be getting possessive, jealous, or suspicious. Your previous boyfriend was like that. He demanded you show him all the texts you’d sent over a period of the last few days, constantly accusing you of cheating without any proof. You weren’t, of course and then you found out after a couple of months that he was. You were worried when Arthur would ask where you were, suspicious he’d accuse you of cheating. He never did though, he just said he wanted to make sure you were safe. 

Arthur doesn’t like the city, he never has. It’s too crowded for his taste, the people too selfish. Sure, his small town has its problems, of course. The youth in it are particularly involved in drugs and underaged drinking, but there’s a strong sense of community and friendliness to it. Everyone looks out for each other and helps one another. Something you’ve never seen in the city. But Arthur’s dislike of the city leads him to constantly worry about you. He fears you getting attacked, robbed or even in a car accident. That’s why he likes to check in on you once a day, just to be sure you’re safe. 

When Arthur first started doing this, you were worried he’d demand to go through your phone like your last boyfriend did. However, never once did he ask you to unlock your phone so he could go snooping through it. He never even asked for the code to unlock it. Once, you asked him why, incredibly suspicious. He looked shocked that you thought he’d want to do something like that. “Your privacy is somethin’ ain’t no one got a right to, darlin’,” he said. “I ain’t ever gonna try and invade that.” 

After that, your trust of him grew even more and so did your relationship. It’s been nearly a year now and you’re absolutely crazy about him. You also long for his lifestyle. Sure, your job pays a little more, but you’ve helped him on the weekends at his ranches and there’s something satisfying about the work. The constant movement, being outdoors, interacting with the animals. You’ve grown particularly fond of one of his mares he named Boadicea. You’ve found yourself fantasizing more and more about doing that full time, quitting your job in the city and just living with Arthur. You doubt it could happen though. There simply isn’t enough money in it, which you hate thinking that way, but in this world, you simply can’t get by without some means of decent money. 

The physical distance hasn’t put a damper in your relationship, though. You were afraid for the first few months that it would be the thing to break you apart. Part of you still fears that, but you recall a night from two months back. One of his fears came true when you were in a car accident. It wasn’t your fault and it wasn’t bad, though it totaled your car. You’d been sitting at a light when someone, who was suspected to be on their phone, slammed into the rear of your car. Luckily no one was hurt, but it shook you up quite a bit. As you sat on the side of the road while the police worked on cleaning things up, you called Arthur and told him what happened. He lived over thirty minutes away from where you were, but he got there in twenty. When he got there, he almost looked like he wanted to deck the person who hit you in the face, but he didn’t. He stayed close to you the entire time and when the police had your car towed and said you could leave, he helped you into his truck and drove you immediately to an instacare room. You said you felt fine, but he wanted to be absolutely sure you were okay. After a checkup, the doctor deemed you’d be fine, just sore for a few days. 

Arthur drove you home that night and as soon as you’d changed into some comfy pajamas, he threw a blanket around you and held you close. It was a good thing too, because the shock set in then and you began to shake and cry. He held you the entire night. He stayed with you for a week as well, only going back to his ranch when you were at work. He drove you there and picked you up everyday until you got your insurance money and were able to buy a new car. Arthur helped you pick it and you loved it. It got better mileage than your last did, which meant you didn’t have to waste so much gas on the weekends when you went to see him. 

You’re headed home now and  your phone dings. It’s probably Arthur, texting you to make sure you’re okay. When you reach a light you know won’t change for a few moments, you pick up the phone. Instead of the usual, it says: “face time tonight?” You reply, “Yes”.

As soon as you’re home and settled to be in your house the rest of the night, you open your laptop and call him up. He responds immediately with a big grin. 

“Hey, sweetheart. I, uh, I wanted to talk to ya about something,” he says. 

“I do too, honey.”

He invited you to go first and you rush into the news quickly. “I talked with the higher ups at my work. They said they could get me set up to work remotely from my laptop, but that I’d still have to come in on Tuesdays for the weekly meetings.”

His face splits into a grin. “That’s funny, because what I wanted to ask ya goes along with that. Darlin’, I was thinkin’ we could move in together. You could live here, I know ya hate that apartment of yours.” 

You look around at said apartment. You have hated it here. Three long years of paying for three overpriced rooms with a landlord who hardly gives two shits about anything that goes wrong with it. And a lot goes wrong since it’s an older building. 

“You’d be okay with that?” you ask. “I know you’ve lived alone for the past few years.” 

He told you about how he grew up with his uncles Dutch and Hosea, who owned the ranch and took him in as a young boy. They passed away a few years back, leaving Arthur alone. 

“Darlin’, if I wasn’t okay, I wouldn’t be asking you. Besides, like you said, I been alone these past few years. I’m ready for somethin’ different. What do you think?” 

Your face splits into a huge grin and you tell him how excited you are. He chuckles and then says he has a surprise for you. Before you can ask him what it is, he disconnects. You try texting him and even calling him, wondering if your service is having problems again. Another problem with this damn apartment. 

Thirty minutes later, a knock comes on your door and Arthur walks in, holding a bundle of beautiful flowers. As soon as he walks in, he pulls you into his arm and kisses you. “You’ve made me a very happy man, Y/N. I just hope…” 

“You have made me happy,” you say, cupping his cheek. “I am so excited to live with you! Your ranch is gorgeous.” 

“I was just thinking maybe living out there could do you some good, darlin’. Help you heal.”

You kiss him softly. “I’ve no doubt about that. But why’d you get me flowers, Arthur? Did…. did you take them out of your garden? You shouldn’t have! It’s not even Valentine’s Day.” 

He chuckles, letting you talk. “I’d rather get you flowers I grew myself on a random Thursday rather than some overpriced, half dead common roses on the day everyone else gets them for their significant other. I just want ya to know how much I love you.” 

He kisses you again and you respond by taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom. You’re suddenly excited for everything the future has in store. 

[spyvstailor]

GRAVEYARD DIRT & SALT

CHAPTER ONE

So, it was brought to my attention people might not like the links to my novel, so I will be posting chapters here on tumblr as well. But please, don’t forget to head over to my KO-FI, and support an author.

Chapter One

Sometime in Summer 2014

 The first sign that troubled times were upon them was the empty shelves in the toilet paper section of all the grocery stores.

  There was no rhyme or reason to this and society fell too fast for top psychologists or sociologists to chime in with their two cents as to the reason why people thought toilet paper would save them during the troubled times.

  The next thing to break down after the panic shopping were the roads and the highways.

 If you think about the population of the earth, six billion and change, and growing each day. If you think about the population of the US alone, all of them fleeing the chaos of the cities and towns. Then you'd understand why the roads were the first to go to shit.

  Humans run on instinct, their lizard brains demand fight or flight. But when they didn't know what exactly they were fighting, when they heard news reports of an epidemic. Stories of people dying and coming back running on pure animal hunger, their first instinct was to flee.

 They've seen the movies, played the video games, entertained the idea of the dead rising up and walking the earth with their insatiable hunger. As humans, they knew what this meant. It meant the end of civilization as they knew it. No more cell phones, no more magazines, and no more internet. It was chaos and it was confusion.

  Back when HQ was up and running. Back when the marines at the base were still receiving orders. When 'task forces' were being sent into hospitals and morgues, schools, churches even. All the places humans congregated in times of trouble to take care of the sweeping epidemic. Back when governments and commanders were still in control, the first thing to fall to the dead were the roads and the highways.

  The highways were veritable buffets for the hungry horde. Panicked people just stuck in traffic, idiots who thought the threat wasn't real and were still out trying to get to their local fucking bar. They became a meal for the horde, delicious, soft, warm, living flesh.

  After the roads and highways fell to the dead, the government sort of disappeared. There was no structure because the officials all sort of went the way of the one percent. Disappearing in the smoke of the burning society around them.

  The next thing to fall was the media. It was all over the place, reports of the dead walking, reports of the one percent disappearing. With their need to know and to be on the scene, many stations began to mysteriously replace their reporters. Reporters changed, their faces different from hour to hour. Until in the end, all that remained was a single, sweaty, panicked looking young intern.

  After the media went the churches, the mosques, the synagogues, even that real fancy cult place in Hollywood.

  When faith failed, then everything just sort of fell away.

 In the days just after the initial outbreak, he was still a marine stationed at HQ in Georgia. He still followed orders. Still went where they told him to go, did what they told him to do. But after a few weeks, the lines of communication went down. HQ went cold, dark. One by one his squad had left him, either picked off by a lucky uggie or just plain run off in the night.

  Sixteen marines had set out from HQ. Thirteen marines had gone off to protect and serve the civilians of the state, and all that remained of that squad was him.

  The men who had left in the night were just heading home, he assumed. And to be honest, the Lieutenant didn't blame them. The more they patrolled from small town to small town, the more he realized there was no one left alive to protect. The last orders he had received had been to keep clear of the major cities, that HQ had fallen, and then silence.

  Hell, until a few months ago, he had assumed he was the only couyon left alive on earth.

 Didn't matter. Everything he had he left back home in Eunice, Louisiana. And that was all inanimate and cold and long-buried in the ground, nothing that could warm him on dark nights anyhow.

  For months, he walked the highways and the roads, just off in the woods in the shadows of the leaves and trees. He did his duty, killing as many of the damned as he could.

  Didn't bother him much, he was recon, trained to do whatever needed doing. Improvise, adapt, and overcome.

 He saw a lot from his place in the woods. He saw men and women trying and failing to survive, the dead roaming, ambling about by the handfuls. Great herds of them shuffling across the blacktop like cattle going down the Chisholm Trail.

  There seemed to be no end to the uggies. Everywhere he went there they were. Old folks, young folks, mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers. Hell, he had seen a bride one time in her pretty white gown just wandering around.

  The longer he survived in the land of the dead, the more he forgot what other humans, real humans, sounded like. He was beginning to go a little nutty if he was honest. It had been months since he last saw someone who seemed alive, and even they looked like they were on their way out. Tired, sickly, starving maybe. A shadow that had appeared and disappeared so fast he wasn't entirely certain they were real.

  So he drove further back from the roads, deeper into the Georgian woods.

 He did well there, flourished even. Hunting, fishing in the river, killing uggies at an easy pace. Every day, he lay his head in a different spot, never staying still too long, never growing attached to anything.

  It was there, in the middle of the sylvan woods of Georgia, that he came upon a high, grey stone wall, beyond which towered an old looking church. There were some equally dated-looking buildings surrounding it.

  At first, he thought it was a compound of sorts. Maybe some of those good ol' Georgian boys who had it in their mind to form their own militia. A ragged group of NRA enthusiasts with too much ordnance and not enough brains or balls.

  When he had scaled the wall out of morbid curiosity, to perch high and get his bearings, he was startled to find a handful of nuns working in a vegetable garden below. At the time they didn't notice him as he perched on their wall. They seemed too intent on gathering the bounties of their good-sized garden, safe, and almost cocky behind their wall.

 With his rifle shouldered, he had watched them at work, amazed to find life so deep in the woods. Feeling like a man who had just witnessed a miracle, an angel, a vision.

  Sitting at ease on the high, eight-foot wall, the Lieutenant watched the ladies in their garden for the longest time, entranced by the simple beauty of their work and their pretty flowing habits that swished when they walked, before he settled his pack beside him to open it up for a snack of dried nuts he had found in the Piggly Wiggly in Blackshear.

  It had been so, so long since he had observed actual human beings moving and chatting, laughing and living, that he seemed to forget where he was and he was only just a little hungry so he thought he'd have himself a snack while he watched them work.

  It wasn't until one of them, the only one who wore all white, glanced up and spied him on the wall.

 Her face was one of serene, simple beauty. Clear blue eyes, a classic beauty that would give Vivian Leigh a run for her money and a hard, almost stern look which changed from placid to startled at the sight of him on their wall. She dropped the basket of potatoes she was carrying to wash at the water pump just past his position and took a quick step back.

  Shouldering his rifle slowly, he held up his hands to show her he was defenseless and offered her a smile he hoped was as charming as he wanted it to be.

  She stared, gawped at him for the longest time, delicate brows knitting, lips trembling like she wanted to say something.

  “Now hold on, I'm not here to stir the nest.” He cautioned as the woman took small, dainty steps back from him.

 The other Sisters now noticed him and wavered between moving to protect the one close to him and fleeing into the shelter of their convent buildings.

  He studied them quietly for a moment, almost as though he thought they were a figment of his imagination, a lie, a mirage on the horizon.

  “My name is Lieutenant Layfayette Vancoughnett of the United States Marine Corps,” he greeted in a voice rusty from disuse. Had it been what? A month? Two months since he last said anything to anyone. “I'm charged with protecting the citizens of this country from the epidemic of the dead.”

  The woman nearest him looked at him with hard, steely eyes, unwavering and unimpressed, but still, she said nothing.

  “I'm not here to hurt any of you,” he went on. “I'm here to offer aid and assistance to any survivors.”

 “We have a front gate for a reason,” the woman suddenly scolded him in the prettiest Southern Belle accent he had ever heard. Straight out of an old movie about Southern Belles and their airy, sweet fiddle-dee-dees.

  Now, when the Lieutenant was a boy he used to stay up late and watch the old late-night showings of movies on Channel 15. He loved those old pictures, the actresses and actors were always far much more elegant than anyone he had ever met. Even dirty, even rugged and sun-scorched in Westerns and historical war films, they always looked so much more.

  This woman, as soon as she opened her mouth, had him yearning for those old films. She had him thinking of Atlanta burning and cotillions and balls of the American South and the Civil War. She had him thinking of Scarlett and Rhett.

  Recovering from the nostalgia of his youth, and feeling as though she had slapped him, the Lieutenant blinked at her for a moment. It had been a few months since he heard words coming from the mouth of someone rational, so he had to think whether he said something rude.

  “Do y'all know what's going on beyond these walls?” He asked.

 The woman wiped a smudge of dirt across her cheek with her wrist and sighed. “Are you here for trouble or to be a spider on my wall? Because I have no time for leering men peering down at me and my nuns like we're chocolate pie at the Easter picnic.”

  Hopping down into the inner convent grounds, the Lieutenant grinned crookedly and took a step towards the woman in white. “Was I leering? Aw, Missy, that was not my intention. It's only that it's been a long, long, very long while since I've seen a living, breathing person.”

  Wincing as she backed away from him, the woman frowned delicately, her mouth drawing in a thin line. Behind her the other nuns were gathering, they seemed less intimidating than the one in pure white. But she still remained resolute before him, the top of her head only coming up to his shoulder.

  “I think you should leave,” the woman suggested.

 “Is there really no one left alive?” One of the young nuns in a blue dress asked. She didn't wear a full veil like the older nuns, her skirts reached to mid-calf, black stockings and shoes hiding her feet and legs from sight.

  “Not that I've seen. Then again I've been keeping myself clear of the major cities, could be some, could be less than some, could be none.”

  “Please,” the woman in white said. “Just leave. We don't want trouble.”

 “Maybe we could offer him some food and at least a place to rest for the night?” An older nun suggested. “We all were strangers in Egypt, Mother Mena.”

  “Sister Mary Agnes, go inside, take the others.” The woman in white said firmly.

 “Now, don't be so hard on them,” the Lieutenant amended. “I'm leaving. I didn't mean to shake things up. Just wanted to perch on your wall a little and take a rest.”

  Hopping back up onto the eight-foot wall with a little trouble, he managed to collect his things with some dignity, before giving the women below him one last look.

  The leader, at least he assumed she was in charge, raised her chin a little and gave him a real hard look, her pretty, clear blue eyes narrowing a little in a silent challenge. Her pretty little starlet looks, that soft edge of the dying breed of the American South, the Southern Belle, the debutante, hard as steel under velvet was all enough to make him reconsider stirring trouble. She looked like she'd take his eyes out without a second thought, like a she-wolf protecting her young.

  Nodding, he leaped back down off their wall, heading for the little camp he had made for the day.

 He had returned to what he did best for the next few days, killing uggies and scrounging for supplies. Surviving like a shell of a man, staggering around, putting down the dead, eating whatever he could find, it was a hollow life he had now and it had only just come alive again at the sight of those nuns.

  Every now and then he thought of those nuns in their walled-in convent and it sparked life back into him. He worried about them, which was something he missed about people. Caring about them, whether they lived or died. He had become like a man trying to preserve the last of the endangered little critters, only with nuns and it renewed in him a purpose.

  For at least two weeks he resisted the urge to return, not wanting to harass them. But he was a weak man and that drum that pounded in his chest told him 'go back, go back, go back'. And those grey stone walls of the convent seemed to draw him like a magnet to metal.

  They weren't in their garden when he finally managed to pull himself onto the wall, using a tree and a lot of long reaches, but he remained on the wall for a bit, hoping to spy one of them. He just needed to know they were okay, that he hadn't imagined them.

  He sat on that wall so long that before he knew it, it was beginning to get dark, and he realized he had to go find some sort of place to hunker down for the night, a tree or an old foxhole, something tucked away enough for him to rest up.

  Pulling out a bottle of Aspirin and a box of feminine pads he kept in his pack, the former for pain, the later for emergency bandages, he left them on his spot on the wall just opposite the back door to a long, rectangular building, as a sort of offering, before he slipped down and back into his woods.

  Slumping against the side of a house, he sunk down beside the latest uggie he had killed and sighed. Everywhere you went they were there. The dead, the uggies, the creatures he did his best to avoid calling zombies.

  Zombies weren't real. They were movie monsters brought to life with CGI and latex.

 These things, these uggies, they were something else entirely. They were infected, they were rotting. Some kind of nerve damage? Maybe they weren't dead. He didn't know. He just killed them before they tore him apart. Because they sure did have rage and hunger to them that wasn't normal. An entire group of them could tear a man apart in less than a minute.

  Sighing, he looked over at the young man he had put down.

 It hadn't occurred to him that before the nuns, he was lonesome. The Lieutenant was a social creature by habit, he enjoyed a good story and a better joke, but he had grown used to nothing and no one but the dead.

 Now, knowing there were living people out there somewhere, people who didn't fire first, who didn't want what he had, or hate that he was untouched by the dead, knowing that somewhere in the Georgian woods were potential companions, had him distracted from the rut he had fallen into.

  It was the same old thing, day in and day out. Wake up, crawl out from wherever he had bunkered for the night, kill some uggies, scrounge for some food and supplies, hunt if the food wasn't available, dig down like a tick for the night and do it all over again.

  His pack was getting heavy with things he needed to survive, his boots were worn thin, nearly to the sole of his foot itself. He had slogged his way north, south, east, and west, but always somehow came back to the area surrounding the convent.

  He needed some company, just a little chat with someone who didn't drool or moan, or at least didn't drool and moan until he bought them some dinner.

  The farmhouse he had stumbled onto was a rundown shack, very little in uggie activity, but replete with goodies.

 Digging through the pantry, he stuffed jar after jar of pickles, jams, and preserves into his pack, until his pack was too full for any more.

 So he ducked outside to bury most of his found treasure, in case anyone else came upon his goldmine, he wanted some things left for himself. It was a dog eat dog sort of world now and while burying his treasure seemed juvenile, it would prove handy come crunch time when everything had been picked over and gone through. When nothing remained of the old world but trash and canned peas.

  Finding an old water pump, he helped himself to some well water and settled down to clean up some, shaving the itchy goddamned stubble away and rubbing stains out of his uniform where uggies had spewed their nasty fluids all over him like some goddamned reject from a devil possession movie.

  Ducking back into the house before he left, he stuffed the last of the jars of food into his pack and zipped it shut.

 He had enough jam and jelly and pickled veggies to get him through some rough times and in a few more months winter would be upon him and those preserves would really matter.

  Just as he was about to head out from the location, he spied some seed packs sitting on a windowsill in the mudroom and slowed down enough to read them.

  As it did lately, his mind wandered to the nuns and their garden. So he snatched up the seed packs, stuffing them into his trouser pockets, before leaving the farmhouse.

  Climbing onto the convent wall later that afternoon where he had found it easiest to climb, just opposite the back door of the rectangular building, he began his search for life, before pulling out a few jars of preserves to give up to the nuns as an offering. He stacked the jars in such a way as to create a sort of cairn, inside which he tucked the seeds, safe from birds.

  He sat for a few more hours on the wall, before climbing down and slinking off into the forest with no nun in sight.

  It would be another day of same ol', same ol'.

  There was a small farm just on the outskirts of the woods, near the river where he had decided to make camp for the night.

  It had been left pretty much alone, way out in the backroads as it was.

 There were only four uggies, huddled around the carcass of some unfortunate kitty cat, eating their meal with all the greed of a biblical King, fattening themselves on kitty cat meat.

  It was awful of him to think it, but humans he could abide, but a kitty cat being killed? It just sort of stabbed at him in his soft spot.

  Standing over the five bodies, four humans, and one small feline, the Lieutenant realized how messed up it was that he had more sympathy for the cat than the humans. But the poor thing was small and easy prey, humans had the luxury of size and warfare tactics.

  With a string of fish he had caught in the river waiting to be fried over an open flame and a hungry belly, he ignored the corpses in favour of setting up on the far side of the farmyard, building himself a nice fire to fry his fish dinner.

  They sort of haunted him though, the corpses always did. It seemed unnatural, even to a marine, to just leave the dead out in the open as he did. There was never any time to really dispose of them though and to burn them meant the risk of the smoke being seen by other less friendly humans or smelled by the dead.

  Huddled over the old frying pan he kept hanging from his pack, he tended to his dinner with care.

 At first, he didn't hear it or it didn't register to him as a threat. He was so used to hearing only three things, the dead shuffling, the dead groaning, or absolute and terrifying silence.

  But as he cooked, he began to tune back into the world around him.

  Over the crackle of the fire and the sizzle of the fish, he heard a soft mewling, muffled it seemed, by distance or objects.

 At first, worried about the dead not staying dead, he glanced over at the heap of corpses in the growing twilight, making out just dark shadows. Removing his pan from the flame, he set it aside in favour of wandering towards the heap, nervous. Scared the kitty cat was going to pop back up and get him with one well-placed chomp.

  He had never seen the virus or whatever it was infect animals, but he knew somehow his dumb Cajun ass would be the first.

  Hell, if zombies were real, maybe he'd turn into a werecat or something.

  As he headed towards the heap, the mewling grew softer, quieter. He was putting more distance between himself and the sound.

 He continued on, though, kneeling by the corpse of the poor unfortunate cat, reaching down to sort through the gore the dead left, feeling the swollen teat of a mother cat.

  “Shit,” he swore.

  There were kittens somewhere.

  Standing up, he looked around.

  Beyond his fire, was a barn, he figured that would be ideal for a nest, so he headed towards it.

  Passing by the fire, he heard the mewling grow louder, but not much, so he stopped at his pack and pulled out a flashlight.

 Entering the dark barn, he shone the light around cautiously. He was weaponless, but there was no real threat of the dead, the door had been latched securely.

  Inside the barn, the stench of death was strong, but he figured it was coming from the heap that lay in one of the stalls.

  “Poor baby,” he murmured.

  Whatever it was, horse or cow, it had rotted where it dropped.

 God. As cold as it seemed, he could handle human death, it was familiar and sometimes necessary, but the death of an animal always got him.

  The sound was louder in the barn, but he couldn't exactly place it.

  He walked the aisle up and down, looking in stall after stall.

 His growling stomach called him back to the fire and his fish, but every time he considered selfishly going back for dinner, the kittens would call him and they sounded hungrier than him.

  It broke his heart.

  “Where are you, babies?” He called out, knowing no answer would come.

 It seemed like an hour he spent, tearing apart square straw bales and looking in the cracks between wooden slats in the stalls and in the manager part of the stalls before he remembered most barns had a hayloft.

  Shining his light upwards, he saw only wooden floorboards overhead decorated with cobwebs.

 The Lieutenant was trailer park trash or at least one step up from that (which in Louisiana meant his granny had a trailer in the middle of the woods near Eunice), he had never been on a farm beyond a few times in passing, so he didn't know how the hell to get up there. He couldn't see a ladder or a staircase, but as he shone his light across the ceiling above him, he spied a part that had rotted away, near the door he had come in and moved towards it.

  As he moved, in near-total darkness save for the beam of light from his flashlight, he spied a pair of glowing eyes peering down at him, before they ducked out of sight.

  “Found you,” he cooed gently up at the hole.

  Looking around for something to climb on so he could poke his head up into the hole to find the kitten, he came up with an old five-gallon pail and hoped to God it would be tall enough.

  Wobbling a little as he climbed onto it, he realized it was still too short, so he jumped down and looked around again.

  The mewling continued.

  “I'll be right back, yeah?” He called up to the kittens.

 Ducking outside, he began to look around the farmyard, knowing how dangerous it was to be outside at night, shining a flashlight like a beacon beckoning the dead to come home to eat. If he could find something, a ladder, or something tall enough to climb onto, he could pull himself up into the hayloft.

  Throwing a bundle of dry branches onto his fire as he passed, he headed for a nearby shed. It looked like a tool shed.

  The door was locked, but it didn't take much for him to kick the weathered door off its hinges.

 Entering like a criminal into a bank vault, he looked around. There wasn't a ladder, but there was a riding lawn mower that looked tall enough to park under the hole. Grabbing up what looked like an old birdcage, he set it on the seat and putting the lawnmower in neutral, he clamped his teeth down on his flashlight and began to roll the machine out.

  It took him a good twenty damned minutes to get it through the door of the barn and for him to crawl over the top of it before he finally managed to get his head up and into the hayloft.

  That pair of shining eyes blinked at him from way, way back in the dusty, moldy hay-filled barn attic, and then another pair blinked at him and another.

  “Hey,” he soothed to the babies. “Come on over here. Come on.”

 After five minutes of gentle cooing, one of the kittens came close, curious about the man who had wedged himself up and into their hole.

 He hoped like hell there were no dead coming at him at that moment. His bottom half was exposed and he didn't want them eating his tender bits first.

  A grey and white kitten, nothing but fluff and eyes and ears touched a wet nose to his outstretched hand, before jerking back nervously.

  “Hi there,” he whispered. “You're a lovely little thing, aren't you? Come on. I've never hurt an animal and I won't start today, baby.” That was a bit of a white lie, he did have to hunt and fish to survive, but he never kicked a dog and never once tossed a kitty cat out of his way.

  Carefully he scooped the fluff ball up and tucked it into the birdcage. Taking that time to glance around at his surroundings for threats, he pushed the cage up into the hole and climbed up in after it.

  Sniffling and sneezing due to the old straw and hay and whatever else was up there, he felt like he was going to catch at least something from it all. Cholera or something else.

 Underneath his six-foot-something weight, the old floorboards groaned, so he moved cautiously, stepping only where he thought the joists underneath were.

  Stopping a few feet from the other two pair of eyes, he cooed and called to them, before finally he was still enough that they cautiously came over to him, one was easy to catch, but the other retreated as he did so.

  The one he had caught was a beautiful short-haired calico and she looked at him in the light of his flashlight with such big eyes that he fell in love a little.

  “Hey, baby,” he greeted. “I'm not going hurt you. But mama's not coming back, so y'all gotta come with me now.”

 With two kittens in the birdcage, mewling hungrily, he tried coaxing the last one over. When the short-haired grey tabby refused to come any closer, the Lieutenant realized he was going to have to go after it.

 “Come on now,” he said gently. “I'm not going hurt you, baby. Catching the kitten, he carefully moved back to the cage and added him.

  Taking one last look around to ensure he got all of the kittens, he headed back for the hole.

  Carefully he poked his head down first before blindly emerging from the hayloft.

  Seeing the coast was clear, he crawled down, bringing the kittens down with him.

  Most of his fish had been consumed by the kittens, the poor things were hungry.

 With a small bowl of water from the well in the cage with them, he moved everyone into the house finally, the land had grown dark a long, long time before.

  Settling upstairs, he secured the door to the room he was going to bed down in, before opening the cage door and letting the kittens out.

  They moved carefully around the room, inspecting everything, before launching themselves at the blanket on the bed where the Lieutenant had settled.

  Dragging themselves up one by one using their claws and the blanket, they sniffed around him for a bit.

 “Bedtime,” he commanded softly, picking up the little calico and smiling as she instantly began to purr. “Aren't you just the sweetest thing,” he said. “What are we going to do with y'all?”

  He couldn't leave them to be eaten as their poor mama had been, but he couldn't travel around with kitties in his pack.

  As with everything as of late, his mind drifted to the nuns and their high walls.

  He hoped they were charitable to kittens.

  Scaling the wall was never easy, but he had a system at this point.

 There was an old gnarled oak tree just behind the convent, close enough to the wall that if he leaped from a thick lower branch and kept his balance he could make the wall.

  It was a little more dangerous with a cage full of kittens, but he managed to make the jump safely.

 Once upon the wall, he realized, however, that he had no escape plan with a heavy pack and a cage of precious cargo. He couldn't just jump down, the kittens would get jostled too badly, but he didn't see any other option.

  Just as he was considering the physics of jumping, he spied a flash of white appear from the back door of the large rectangular building beside the church.

  A nun had emerged, a laundry basket in her hands.

  Not wanting to startle her, the Lieutenant let loose a low, soft whistle to get her attention.

  It failed, the nun still jumped a little, dropping her basket of clothes.

  “Sorry,” he whispered, pointing to the kittens in the cage hurriedly as an explanation.

  Exhaling a relieved breath, the nun hurried over to stand below him on the wall.

 Kneeling, he handed her the cage, explaining himself, “sorry,” he apologized again. “I found these little fellas and didn't know where else to bring them.”

  The nun looked up at him with large, beautiful brown eyes and a sort of amused grin. “You're that marine, aren't you?”

  He nodded. “I don't want to make trouble.”

  “I know,” she returned. “Sister Gertrude has cats, so...you brought them to the right place.”

  He smiled. “Good. I'll bring y'all some kitty food if I find it then.”

  “You've been leaving us things,” the nun went on.

  “Have they been useful?”

  She nodded.

  Looking up and out at the convent, he asked, “what is this place, exactly?”

  “Veil of Tears of the Sacred Virgin Convent,” she said.

  “Which one are you?”

  The nun smiled. “Sister Dymphna.”

  “Dymphna. I'm Lieutenant Vancoughnett, USMC.”

  “Lieutenant.” She repeated.

  They both looked up as another nun emerged from the back of the building, a laundry basket in her arms.

  “You'd better go,” Dymphna said. “Mother Mena will be out soon. She doesn't want strangers in the convent.”

 He nodded, watching the other nun who was approaching them cautiously. “Thank you for taking these little guys. Their mama got nabbed by a couple of the dead and I didn't want them to starve.”

  Dymphna smiled. “Thank you for bringing them to us.” She hesitated, before adding. “Stay safe out there, please?”

 Thinking of the nuns the next morning, he remembered his promise to Dymphna; cat food. And he recalled the town nearby had an agro-center with all manners of animal feed.

  So he headed there, with no better plans for the day but wandering around and surviving.

 The town had been cleared of anything living, or at least anything with a thinking, rational brain, but he still walked into it with all the caution of a man going to battle.

  The dead lingered in places where people once inhabited, either because they could smell the living scent lingering or because somewhere in the backs of their rotting brains, they recalled that this was a place where they were supposed to be, like salmon returning to spawn or birds migrating.

 If he was quiet enough, moved silently enough, the lingering scent of the living would mask his own and he could slip in and out without any problems.

  And even though he swore he'd avoid areas that had once been heavily populated, he went into the town on a mission.

 Kittens would need soft food at best, maybe a smallish bag of special kitten chow, he wasn't sure, he emptied his pack to make space for both.

  The agro-center was dark and quiet, the shops always were now.

 Someone had already broken the glass door wide open but had pulled a heavy, empty snack stand over the hole behind them as they left, possibly with the intention of returning for more scrounging.

  The Lieutenant tread carefully once past the stand and inside, worried that maybe the stand had been pulled in behind someone entering, but determined to get his kitten food and leave. It would be an easy in and out, once he found the cat aisle.

  Passing by garden aisles and chemical aisles, both raided for tools to be used as weapons and chemicals he could only imagine were to be used for bombs or other methods of self-defense from the dead, he turned down an aisle containing small appliances and barbecue equipment, following the signs overhead that pointed him towards the cat aisle, moving slowly and cautiously around each corner.

  It was so far quiet and empty, but that didn't mean the next corner didn't have someone or something waiting in surprise for him.

  The cat aisle was at the very back of the store, last aisle and as he glanced around the corner, he spied a small form sitting on the floor in the very corner, playing with some cat toys, her back to him.

  It was a child, he realized. And she looked very much alive.

 Approaching her slowly, eyes moving constantly, looking for someone who may be with her, the Lieutenant moved down the aisle, a new mission at the forefront of his mind.

  If this child was alone, he had to get her out of here and to the safety of the convent, whether the nuns wanted strangers there or not.

  About five steps away from the little girl, she happened to look up and over her shoulder, a cautious, searching glance, watching for the dead he assumed.

  She saw him, gasped, and stood up.

 Someone stepped around the corner, handgun aimed at the Lieutenant. They must have been right beside her, scrounging the endcap of the aisle.

  Raising his own rifle, the Lieutenant kept it trained on the man with the child.

 The two could not be any different. The small black girl wore the uniform of a Fox Scout, dirty, worn sneakers and had the sweetest, most open face he had ever seen on a child. She looked at him with big, dark eyes, before reaching up and rubbing in irritation at her button nose, tucking in behind the man.

  The white man with her wore an expensive suit, brightly patterned silk shirt underneath, boots that had at one point been polished and expensive, looked dangerous and prepared to kill. His predatory look was ruined a little by how big and green his eyes were, fringed by dark lashes. Altogether with the freckles on his face adding to his boyish appeal and softening the threat if only a little made him deceptively dangerous.

  They were not father and child, and yet the girl hid behind the man, trusting him to keep her safe.

 For a minute the two men just stood there, guns trained on the other's face, before the Lieutenant spoke carefully, “I'll put my weapon down if you do the same.”

  The man narrowed his eyes a little but kept his weapon trained on the Lieutenant.

  “I'm just here for kitten food,” the Lieutenant said. “I don't want a fight.”

  “Kitten food?” The man asked, almost a breathy laugh.

  “If you put the gun away I'll tell you the story,” the Lieutenant lied.

 Grinning, the man tilted his head and gave the Lieutenant a sort of admonishing, playful look, his mouth lifting in the right corner crookedly, before palming his pistol and raising his hands defensively. “Well now I've gotta hear this one,” he said in a tone that sounded like the man had once been born in the American South, like the distant memory of a twang was hidden just behind his calm, smooth voice.

 Lowering his rifle, the Lieutenant paused for a second, watching as the man watched him, before both men put their weapons away, the man sliding his pistol back into a holster inside his suit jacket, resting it at his breast, the Lieutenant sliding his rifle onto his back.

 “Was scrounging some farm,” the Lieutenant said, carefully turning from the man, keeping one eye on the two at the end of the aisle and one on the selection of canned cat food, “found some orphaned kittens.”

 “And you're taking care of them?” The man almost teased. “You know the world's fucking decimated, right? Doesn't really matter.”

  Giving the man and the girl with him a simple look. “Guess we both have soft hearts.”

 Placing a hand on the girl's head, the man in the expensive suit tucked her behind him further, shielding her from the Lieutenant's gaze. “Don't look at her. Just get your fucking cat food.”

  Both adult men, prickly and on their guard, remained in their respective spots, before the Lieutenant deferred slowly, moving down the aisle, keeping one eye on the man and the girl as he browsed for canned kitten food.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl tug the man down to whisper something to him, and at first, the man ignored her before he stooped a little.

  Cupping her hand, the child whispered to him.

  “I'm not...this isn't the time, kid.”

  After a bit, the man with the child sighed deeply and asked, “how many kittens?”

  “Three,” the Lieutenant said, speaking directly to the child, knowing the question came from her.

  Once more the man in the fancy suit gently pushed the kid behind him fully, eyes warily on the Lieutenant.

 “You her daddy?” The Lieutenant asked, finding the kitten food and dropping his pack to stuff as many cans inside as he could.

  “Do I look like her fucking daddy?” The man demanded.

  The Lieutenant tilted his head. “The world is a diverse place.”

  The three of them were silent for the longest time, before the man said,  “it's just the two of us now.”

  “What are you two doing here?” The Lieutenant asked. “Is this where you hole up?”

  The man scowled a little. “What the fuck do you care?”

  Again the Lieutenant backed down into silence, hefting his pack back up onto his back.

 “Ran into some good ol' boys a bit back,” the man in the suit supplied. “Seems the NRA survived the end of days and they're just as nasty as they were before it all went to shit. Thought it'd be best to hole up until early morning, then duck out of town.”

  The Lieutenant nodded.

  “You? Still serving the government?”

 “I don't think so,” the Lieutenant said. “If HQ is still up and running ain't nobody told me.” Eyeing the two of them, the girl and the fancy man, the Lieutenant asked, “you got a place to be or you just moving?”

  “El Dorado,” the man said simply, still on his guard. “Hey, where's your cats?”

  “Pardon?”

  “You got them stashed somewhere safe or you just fucking with us?”

  “They're safe.”

  The man nodded.

 “I could think of eight better lies I could have told than kittens,” the Lieutenant said. He took one last, studious look at the two of them, before that small part in him, the one that wanted to protect people kicked in. “Why don't you two come with me? There's safety in numbers.”

  Folding his arms, the man tilted his head back a little and stared hard at him, before saying, “get the fuck out of here.”

[aawesomepenguin]

[SPOILERS FOR THE SONIC MOVIE]

Ok, with the new trailer approaching, I thought that it would be good if I made a master post containing everything that we know for sure are happening in the Sonic Movie, thanks to an AMA done back in March.

The AMA was then proven to be true when the Sonic Movie trailer debuted in Cinemacon a month later, matching with a lot of what he said. Then Toywiz accidentally leaked that they were going to do some Sonic Movie toys, and one of them matched again with that AMA. It is legit.

So, needless to say, I’m going to literally spoil the entire movie. From beggining to the end. You’ve been warned.

Direct citations are in “”.

-The Movie is basically going to be a “Sonic; Origins”, it’s going to give backstory to Sonic and Robotnik, it’ll talk about how the two of them met, and how they became mortal enemies.

-Only the Robotnik name is used. No mention of the “Eggman” name.

-He gave the movie a 7/10 grade.

-If he had to compare this movie to a previous one, it would be the 2014 TMNT movie: “Id say it is more TMNT with reference to story and action balance. It's a solid mix between engaging action which continues to develop the bromance between sonic and Tom.”

- The movie is indeed, focused for the younger demographic, but there is some bonus for the long time fans: “ Its definitely being targeted towards youth demo. It seems their goal is to intro sonic to the next Gen of fans. More so with access to their parents wallets for spin off merch and happy meal toys. I enjoyed it similar to seeing transformers. Don't expect the green mile storytelling but turn your brain off and just enjoy for what it is. The cast does a great job”

-About Sonic himself in the movie:

*In order to survive, he keeps stealing stuff and living in the shadows of the Green Hills town. He usually steals food from super markets to eat, and also he steals a LOT of sneakers. He ends up being treated as an urban legend, called as the “Blue devil” by the locals, until he is discovered.

*Sonic isn’t from Earth, he comes from another dimension that is inhabited by other animals like him. Sonic’s past will be explored.

*It’s revealed that he was raised by an owl when he was a baby. Everything seems to point that she is a regular owl, not an anthro one. She eventually ends up dying for some unknown reasons, which will be a “tearjerker” scene.

*”Rings are how sonic got to earth. He can throw one and imagine a place and it will take him. He is fast from his first steps.”

*About Sonic’s ‘eletricity’ powers, he does it only when he focuses or is extremely emotional. His charged run is why he gets detected and why the power on the entire Pacific Northwest goes down and that’s how Robotnik comes into the film.

*But Sonic will need to learn how to control his powers though.

-About references to the old games, he said that: “It’s a good balance between giving the old fans something but introducing him to kids. I went in not knowing it was gonna be screened or any expectations. Cheesy but enjoyed it from start to finish. Jim Carrey kills the role.”

-About the movie’s plot:

* Sonic ends up being far away from his home planet and grows up on Earth.  Ends up alone after some time and grew up staying hidden. Loneliness gets to him which leads to him making a massive energy disturbance, knocking out the power on the entire Pacific Northwest.

The government, scared by the blackout, decides to bring in Robotnik to find out why the energy disturbance happened. Hijinks ensue and a good story is told. Tom and sonic become best friends.

-About the action:

“ Action scenes were great in story telling and execution wise. Effects weren't complete so a lot of it was still early cgi and the hidden actors playing sonic. At one point he was just a blue doll on the counter lol”

-The movie is aiming for a PG Rating.

-About Robotnik:

“He's just a psycho super smart doc that works for the gov initially. They give him the power and he goes full Eggman lol. He's super obnoxiously smart too. Makes tons of comments in the film about how superior his brain is lol. Really fun role for Jim Carrey.”

“He doesn’t rock the signature look until tail end of movie. Has the typical long coat and all dark evil scientist look. Short mustache as well initially”

Robotnik trying to catch Sonic eventually makes him go more and more insane and obsessed with the hedgehog. With him eventually getting the “Eggman” look.

-”Lots of humor and fun for all ages. Kids ate the comedy up. Sonic dances right after an short battle and kids about died laughing in the theater.”

-The Chaos Emeralds are NOT present in this movie.

-There is a post credit scene:

“Robotnik is defeated and ends up on a foreign planet [possibly Sonic’s World] that Sonic was supposed to escape to in the event of being found on Earth. He is now hefty and rocking the full blown stache”

- “Sonic and Tom end up helping each other solve their personal conflicts. They balanced Sonic and Tom pretty well and they are a good duo.”

- There’s a scene in San Francisco that is a direct homage to City Escape.

-The only characters from the games that show up are Robotnik and Sonic.

- The movie has one car chase scene. Sonic does the floss to celebrate (that dance that is used in Fortnite) and “the kids ate it up”. About product placement, there is two, one with the Olive Garden restaurant and Puma. Tom also gets a gift card as an apology at the end from the gov guy who initially brings Robotnik into the picture.

-Yes, Sonic will floss in the movie.

- Tika Sumpter plays the character Annie Wachowski. She is a vet that is very gentle with Sonic. It’s thanks to her that Sonic felt that he could trust the Wachowskis.

- In order to retrieve Sonic’s lost rings, Sonic and Tom embark on a roadtrip to San Francisco, using Tom’s Tacoma.

The Tacoma’s roof is ripped out due to the automated car that Robotnik sent to attack them. This leads to a conflit between Sonic and Tom.

-About how Sonic and Tom meet:

“Tom has racoon problems in his trash. When he sees Sonic face to face for the first time. He tranqs him and puts him in a cage.”

Robotnik shows up and they escape and Tom begrudgingly agrees to help. His main concern is moving to SF to prove to himself that he can handle real cop crime and not Montana small world problems. You see it early on for character development.

-The movie’s runtime is around 90 minutes. 

- “There were stakes and it balanced between a family adventure and action movie.”

-About the final battle:

" Yeah there's a good scene between doc and the good guys" It’ll be about Sonic and Robotnik running across the entire world using the Power Rings, they’ll end up in different places from Earth, such as Egypt and Paris.

-About Robotnik’s lackey:

Agent Stone is Robotnik’s right hand. He is very funny and a big Robotnik fanboy. He’s super happy to be working with him.

- “Tom was really enjoyable. Fun and backwoods kind of smart. He wants to prove to himself that he can make it as a big city cop”

- The film will begin showing Sonic as a baby. He’ll be saved by an owl, that’ll be sort of like his mom owl. His mom owl dies, and then Sonic will realize that he is on his own on Earth, and alone.

-There’s a scene where Sonic and Tom stop by a bar localized in the American highway path between San Francisco and Green Hills. It’s full of buff bikers, with tatoos and everything. Sonic accidentaly creates a fight in the bar.

-Robotnik has as a part of his arsenal drones, tanks, automated cars, and realistic robots.

-Sonic ends up becoming a sensation in Green Hills, and the locals begin to appreciate him, and begin to defend him.

-How the final battle ends:

The fight across the world between Sonic and Robotnik ends up back in Montana via the rings. The locals from Green Hills help by getting Robotnik’s attention. Sonic then super electro charges a spin dash, and knocks Robotnik into a ring which sends him to another planet [possibly Sonic’s World] and they technically win for now.

-The final battle begins, I believe, at this part:

And that’s preety much it. If you want to see the AMA for yourself, click here.

[poppibranchlover]

Nine Lives, One Fight - Part 22

The story: Deep in the forest of Troll Town, there lies a mysterious tiny purple mushroom that has a secret magical ability. King Peppy calls this mushroom forbidden for all Trolls to go near it. One day, while Branch is out in the woods doing his survival research studying, he encounters it and, not knowing it is a regular mushroom, decides to harvest it and bring it home. But in the next morning, its magic effects transform him into a small blue cat! After being sent to the animal pound, his girlfriend, Poppy, finds him and decides to adopt him, although not recognizing it is Branch. Desperate to finish his research project due for a special event invented by Poppy, Branch is forced to learn how to behave like a pet cat and must figure out what caused him to become one.

You already seen what had happened in Part 21. Now get ready for Part 22!:

“I��m so sorry, Poppy. I should have listened to you and your dad,” Branch muttered sadly, feeling the pressure to give up. He closed his eyes and settled himself to sleep.

Wiggles, the little bunny, emerged from the shadows, desperate for his friend. He saw Branch sleeping alone on the cliff and hopped towards him.

“There you are!” he cried, looking worried sick. “I’ve been searching the whole forest for you! You would’ve been caught by a net, or something worse!” Then he noticed how he was feeling right now. “Why the long face? What happened?”

Branch opened his eyes and turned to Wiggles, his face overwhelmed by guilt and sadness. “I should have saved myself from that mushroom,” he said hopelessly. “You heard what the lieutenant of Poppy’s dad said to her? Now everyone, including Poppy, thinks I’m dead. They all can’t recognize me.”

He then sunk his chin onto his front paws in despair, mourning about his failure to get the other Trolls’ attention. Wiggles crept to his side and thought for a moment to help cheer him up and come up with a plan.

“Hey, kid. It’s going to be alright,” he said gently, stroking his fur with one bunny paw. “Let the entire village know what’s really at stake if you’re under a spell of a magic mushroom. They’ll help us figure somethin’ out.”

But Branch is completely overwhelmed, feeling like his heart is about to shatter even more. “It’s not going to be alright,” he said, shaking his head in despair. “I’ve messed everything up, and soon after tomorrow, I’m going to become ‘full cat’ forever.” He sighed for a moment. “If only there’s another Archaeo morphisis mushroom somewhere in the woods that will help change me back. I just miss my Troll body so much.”

Wiggles nuzzled his cheek. “Don’t worry about that,” he reassured him gently. “I think there will be more time to retrieve that mushroom if we could just keep going.”

“But it will be my last day to live like this soon,” Branch said, on the verge of tears. “I’m not sure if I can make it.”

“I’m positive you will make it out of the spell,” Wiggles told him with strong passionate emotion. “Everyone will not think you are dead. Just do not run away from your only companion ever again, okay?”

Branch quickly thought for a moment about what he told him and he turned back to him, grateful for his support. “I’m glad you’re here for me, Wiggles,” he said, barely making out a relieved smile.

“Me too,” said Wiggles, hugging his face. “Unless, of course, you would be stuck like this for another day later.” After a moment of comforting Branch, he looked away and sighed, as if he remembered something tragic that happened to him before.

“Listen…” Wiggles admitted sadly, taking a deep breath before he can say anything. “I had the most painful secret I ever kept that I didn’t want to tell you about.”

Branch looked confused. “What secret?” he asked, looking at the sad little rabbit. “You never told me any secrets you kept.”

“Well…” Wiggles started to say, but he grunted with frustration. In fact, he was afraid that Branch might be freaking out if he did tell him something truly dark. “It’s still haunting my mind for a very long time that I don’t want to talk about it much!” The bunny was clearly panicking as his long ears droop closer to his back.

“No, it’s okay,” Branch told him gently. “I’m listening. Don’t be shy, Wiggles. Just tell me something.”

Wiggles shrank back with guilt. This was it. Now it is the perfect time to say something else to his only friend he had ever known. “Okay, here goes nothing.” He took a big, deep breath before blurting out inexplicably “The truth is…I am also a Troll cursed by the magical purple mushroom!”

That settled it. Branch immediately stood up and turned directly to him, completely horrified at what he had just said.

“WHAT?!” he shouted in horror. He couldn’t believe his ears! Ever since they met, Wiggles was just an ordinary little bunny in the woods! And now, after all this time, the bunny WAS ACTUALLY A TROLL UNDER THE SPELL OF THE ARCHAEO MORPHISIS?! He felt like this is not right. There had to be some kind of terrible mistake.

Looking at Wiggles, totally baffled at his secret, Branch stammered in disbelief “You’re a Troll too?! But…how is this even possible?”

Wiggles was so guilty of blurting his secret in front of his friend that he explained “I’m sorry for telling you the truth about my backstory. Now is the time I’ll tell you why I am just like you a long time ago.”

“Really?” Branch asked, staring at him. “What did happened to you? How did you end up like this?”

Wiggles sighed and went on to explain his backstory. “Don’t you see? I was a carrot farmer, working day and night in the farming premises of the village. I had a passion for harvesting carrots and selling them for investment.”

Scrapbook imagery began to play before his mind. Wiggles remembered that in his early days as a Troll, he used to have lime-colored skin, green hair and old-fashioned clothing like a farmer. In the scrapbook flashback, he was raking a garden and watering crops with a watering can.

“I was having such a happy life, taking care of my precious carrot garden and making sure the crops are ripe enough to eat. I even had a tremendous appetite on carrots,” Wiggles explained, shaking off the memory of his daily routine. Flipping through the next scrapbook memory, he remembered about a big toadstool-shaped restaurant with a picture of a smiling carrot on top of the roof.

“Carrots were my favorite vegetables, and I decided to run a business about them! That’s why I opened a fabulous gourmet restaurant for the Trolls to go crazy on these orange buds!”

Wiggles smiled at the memory of himself opening his famous restaurant, with Poppy impressed and awed at his amazing work.

“You may come in!” he announced in the flashback. “My carrot restaurant is open for business!”

“Yay!” scrapbook Poppy cheered. “It’s a nice restaurant!”

Wiggles remembered that all the Trolls were lining up to buy carrots from his restaurant, giving him so many money. He would have been rich if he had much more.

“But little by little, there are less people entering and exiting my cafe,” he explained. “I grew bored, wondering what to do next and how to get more currency to invest for my farm.” In a scrapbook image, he was sitting on the cashier counter, bored and staring longingly at his small tower of money.

“That is when I decided to get more carrots,” Wiggles said. “The more I will grow them and take them to business, the more money I will pay!”

The memory then changed to another one depicting him in his garden.

“In my farm, I went for some gardening. It didn’t take long for me to get started as I whipped out my rake and headed for the crops. But as I was walking along the way, I stepped on something on the ground.”

In the scrapbook flashback, Wiggles was making his way to start his raking when he stepped on something with a…SNAP!!!

“Huh?! What is this?” the green Troll asked, startled at the sound. He bent down and picked up the object from the ground. It turned out to be a purple seed that glowed bright purple magic inside. Wiggles felt so suspicious at his find.

“When I picked it up, it looked like a strange-looking seed. I have no idea what it is, but I’m curious of what it is doing here.”

“Hang on just a second,” Branch interrupted. “There’s something really strange going on with that seed.”

Wiggles kept going with his backstory. “After a long day of gardening for more carrots, I started to feel tired. Taking my bundle of carrots and that strange seed along with me, I headed home, inside my cozy, humble pod. It’s where I used to live.”

Wiggles remembered what his own Troll pod house used to be like. It was orange-reddish on most of it except for the bottom half, which is coated with yellow.

“I was trying to relax myself by reading a book when a violent thunderstorm burst into the sky.”

BOOM!!! ZAP!!!!

The scrapbook image of Wiggles’ Troll pod in a sunny day quickly changed into a dark and stormy night. Rain poured from the dark clouds (and even Cloud Guy was pouring rain as well), thunder roared and lightning flashed. The stormy wind caused the pod to sway unsteadily.

“The heavy rain is causing me to drop my book as I got startled by the wind from outside. I looked for something to hold onto, but then I started to feel a little pain in my head. The next thing I knew was that I’m experiencing some severe or mild discomfort in my whole body.”

Wiggles shuddered at the moment he had a headache and was sweating like crazy.

“What happened?” Branch asked, looking worried. “I knew there is something going on with that seed!”

“That is for you to find out its symptoms,” Wiggles explained, his voice filled with grave emotion. “Stage 1 is when you get a severe headache. Stage 2 is the discomfort of deforming in the limbs.”

“What is Stage 3?”

“Stage 3 is in the middle of chromothripsis. You’ll definitely pass out. Your genomes will be smashed apart…so they can be reassembled with animal DNA.”

A scrapbook image depicted Wiggles in Troll form, undergoing a werewolf-like transformation. A shadow of a rabbit can be seen in front of him.

“After I suffered from stage 4, which is epigenetic modulation, I went to the final phase of my transformation,” Wiggles said. “That is when your body is being flooded with endorphins to prepare you for the immense physical pain you’re about to experience.”

The scrapbook cutout of Wiggles clutched tightly onto his stomach with his two hands, groaning in pain and falling onto the floor, barely becoming unconscious in the process.

“The next thing I knew is that my house engulfed with a violent blast of purple magic!”

In another scrapbook image, Wiggles’ beloved pod went…

POOF!!!

Purple clouds of magic covered everywhere in the pod. A second later, it crashed down to the ground. CRASH!!!

Some Trolls who were walking by got startled at the sound of a pod crashing. They cautiously walked towards the broken pod house, in which purple light began to glow from inside.

“The Trolls frantically rushed to find me in my home, but all they can find is a glowing purple mushroom,” Wiggles stated sadly.

Branch was shocked at the memory of two Trolls finding Wiggles’ wrecked pod. It had been clear that to according to everyone’s reaction, the green Troll is nowhere to be found inside the house, and the Archaeo morphisis mushroom is what is left laying in there.

The scene then changed to a funeral. All the Trolls were gathered around a casket, wearing formal black clothing. Some were sobbing and paying their respects.

“Soon, with no trace of my whereabouts, a funeral was held for my presumed death,” Wiggles explained. “Worst of all, my beloved carrot restaurant went out of business.”

He gestured to another scrapbook image of his carrot restaurant, which now had a sign that says “Closed” pinned to the cute-eyed carrot picture. It now displayed a sad face instead of smiling, meaning that it became sad that the owner of the restaurant was gone.

Scrapbook Poppy approached Wiggles’ restaurant, and upon reading the sign, she looked very sad. “Oh no.”

Branch looked stunned. For a moment, Wiggles just shook his head, overcome by the sad memories. Then he took a deep breath and said, “Many of the Trolls never knew what became of me. When I woke up, I looked down at a rain puddle and realized that I transformed into a rabbit. Since then, I spent most of my life living as this small carrot-craving animal for two years after my funeral was held and the Archaeo morphisis mushroom became extinct and taken away from Troll history for good.”

Another flashback projected in Wiggles’ mind, but only this time, it wasn’t made from scrapbook cutouts. It depicted the little bunny that he had become, lost and alone in the forest.

“No one will see me. No one will need my help anymore,” said Wiggles, almost feeling like crying. “I realized I was so far away from my home, I couldn’t find it. A few days later, as I was roaming the woods, the Animal Control tried to catch me.”

Wiggles remembered that when the Animal Control officers find him in the forest, they chased after him. He desperately searched for a place to hide from the two angry running Trolls wearing caps, who were holding their nets.

“I ran for my life when I found the perfect place to be hidden,” said Wiggles. “As the catchers ran away, I was about to get going when a flash of purple light blinded my sight. That’s when I realized that I was hiding behind a log that was beside another Archaeo morphisis mushroom.”

The rabbit remembered the day he found the Archaeo morphisis mushroom in the furthest peak of the forest. It was standing there, barely making out repeated haunted voices that would draw Trolls close to it and order them to touch and pick it up.

“I tried to ignore the voices in my head, remembering the incident that happened a long time ago,” explained Wiggles. “Suddenly, I heard a voice in the distance…it was your voice.”

That was when Branch quickly remembered the first time he encountered the magical mushroom. Wiggles saw Branch, in his normal Troll form, approaching towards the Archaeo morphisis and hid in a bush. He had witnessed him preparing to pick it up when King Peppy and Poppy worriedly rushed to his side, attempting to warn Branch not to touch the mushroom.

Wiggles watched from his bush as Poppy started shouting at Branch. “You’ve got some explaining to do, mister! Where were you just now? My dad heard you almost touched the magical purple mushroom!”

“How dare you told me that!” Branch said, glaring at her. “I was just harvesting some ingredients for your festival!”

“But you almost harvest that mushroom!” said Poppy. “You could’ve been vanished!”

“I’m just doing what I need to do right now!” Branch said, looking very mad at her. “So why did you and your father try to stop me?”

The flashback soon ended as Wiggles sadly finished his story. “It turns out I’m not the only one trapped in the mushroom’s magic spell. One day, I came across you, selfish and stubborn with blue mad eyes. That is not how you’ve always been acting.”

Branch was totally speechless. “So…you’ve been spying on me when I argued with Poppy and her dad?” he asked in disbelief.

Wiggles looked at Branch directly in his eyes. “That’s how I realized what you just did! While I’m still stuck in this tiny little rabbit body for a long time, I came to your assistance and told you the truth,” he explained, his voice growing more serious as he spoke. “According to King Peppy, there was only one purple mushroom existing in the other side of the woods where no one can collect it. One day, you didn’t listen to him, and you angered its magical power by taking it away from good hands. Thanks to you, there are no more magic purple mushrooms that exist.”

The instant Wiggles told him this, Branch felt his stomach twist. He felt more guilty than ever. He thought for a minute before realizing the horrible truth.

“Oh no! You are right!” Branch admitted, looking scared. “This was the last Archaeo morphisis mushroom existing right now! I must have lost it somewhere in town while I was holding my basket of berries on the way home!”

“What?” Wiggles asked, shocked. “Why did you lose the mushroom? That’s our last one!”

Branch paced around on his four legs as he explained “I was so careless that I bumped to a passing Troll and spilled my basket holding the mushroom and my berries in it. I don’t have much time to pick them up because a dog chased me and the Animal Control sent me to the pound until Poppy adopted me.” He heaved a big, sad sigh and he felt tears stinging in his eyes. “It’s my fault. I totally lost one of Troll Village’s forbidden possessions without permission.”

Wiggles stood in front of Branch, his mouth hung open with unbelievable shock. “How could you….?”

“I’m so sorry, Wiggles!” Branch said, anguished. “I’ve been such a careless boy. All that I spent throughout this day was getting the Trolls’ help, but no one can hear me or see me, and the Animal Control will always get me. Without that mushroom, I will never turn back into a Troll.”

He turned around in a circle and curled himself up, disappointed at his mistake. “What have I done?” he mumbled in a small voice.

Wiggles stepped forward. “I’m sorry that I told you what happened to me a long time ago,” he said with as much shame as possible. “But it made you feel even worse. What I had said about the horrible feeling of transforming into animals that represent our talent has got to be the most painful weakness.”

“Yeah, it’s alright, Wiggles,” Branch replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You already told me about that one. I really appreciated your backstory.” He sighed heavily before continuing. “But I don’t want what happened to you… to happen to me.”

Branch looked down at the grass as another scrapbook image flashed through his mind, depicting his own funeral. “I also don’t want to be announced dead like you, Wiggles,” he said, nearly crying.

“I feel the same way. I even regretted picking up that magical seed in my garden two years ago,” Wiggles said despondently. “With the two of us becoming animals, all the people and our loved ones think we’re goners.”

The two of them sat on the cliff for a moment, sadly thinking of their future. Branch took a moment to wipe his tears and make a decision. He let out a big breath from his throat and looked up with determination.

“I guess I’ll have to do what is needed to be done,” he said in a brave voice, standing up on his four paws. “I have to find the last existing Archaeo morphisis before its effects expire.”

Then he looked back at Wiggles and added firmly “But I can’t do it alone, no matter how scared I am.” After that, he hung his head low, sighing.

Wiggles looked excited. “Look in the bright side,” he said enthusiastically. “You should be glad you had a companion to support you. But I’ll stay ahead of your tail until we do it together, like a team!” He nudged Branch’s shoulder and gave him an encouraging smile.

Branch felt a wave of relief wash over him. He hadn’t let himself admit that he had been scared to be alone. Now that Wiggles encouraged him to move on, he is sure to be ready to set things right.

“I knew you can count on me like that, Wiggles,” Branch told him with a gentle smile. But then he noticed he wasn’t really answering back. “Wiggles?”

He looked down at his side and saw the little rabbit beside him with his eyes closed. He was so tired from searching for him in the woods that he immediately fell asleep.

“Oh, Wiggles.” Branch smiled, feeling touched at the bunny’s funny little personality. Then he had an idea. He rested himself on the ground, folding his tail around Wiggles and using it like a furry blanket. He dragged him closer to his shoulder to make sure he is more comfortable.

Branch was feeling sorry for his friend’s longtime tragedy and whispered “Hang in there, buddy. I promise I’ll help change you back as well.”

Then he licked his face and rested his head down his front paws, closing his eyes as the two friends settled to sleep for the night.

Comforted by his gentle words, Wiggles snuggled himself into the warmth of Branch’s long tail, leaning in as blue fur bristled through his grey face. He is more grateful to have a special friend who will always be there for him.

An hour later, Branch’s eyes suddenly snapped open, thinking that he might have forgotten about one thing.

Wide-awake, he gasped and realized something! “Oh no! Poppy! I should be getting back to her pod!”

Branch knew he had to get back to Poppy’s house because he had been staying as her pet in there. He quickly looked back at Wiggles, who was still curled up in his long blue tail. “I could really use your help taking me home,” he told the rabbit.

Responding to the sound of his voice, Wiggles yawned and stretched. “What? We’re leaving now?” he asked in a tired tone.

“Yeah, we need to get moving!” said Branch. “Get up!”

Wiggles thought for a moment, and then made up his mind. “Okay then, let’s do it.”

They were about to leave when Garth burst out of the shadows. He walked slowly forward with his net. “All right, kitty cat. Come on…”

Branch and Wiggles gasped. After capturing the stray cat earlier, Garth had focused back on finding and capturing Branch!

Wiggles squeaked in horror. “RUN!!!”

“Come on!” Branch screamed as he picked up Wiggles in his mouth and made a run for the edge of the woods.

Garth ran after the two animals, yelling “HEY! COME BACK HERE, YOU CAT!!!”

As he ran, Branch quickly tossed Wiggles onto his back. Garth swung his net forward but he slipped on the edge of the cliff!

He screamed as he tumbled into the river with a…

SPLASH!!!

When Garth dunked into the water, his cap went flying before landing gently on the river. This slowed him down and allowed Branch and Wiggles to escape.

They both looked back at the defeated Garth behind them and cheered as they finally got away from the Animal Control officer.

Wiggles held on to Branch’s back, riding him like a horse. He looked up at him and boasted triumphantly “I told you I’d always be ahead of your tail!”

“Yeah!” Branch said proudly, looking over his shoulder as he ran. “Me too, Wiggles!”

Together, the two of them quickened their pace as they made their way to Troll Village.

                                             To Be Continued…

                                         Stay tuned for Part 23!

[peacefulheartfarm]

Prepare for Disaster

Prepare for disaster is a motto I grew up with living in rural Michigan. Back in the day, when the power went off due to a winter storm, it could be off for several weeks. Today we have much better electrical systems and our current provider has kept us in good shape. We have never been without power for more than a few days. But even that can be disastrous if we are not prepared. Today I want to talk about how we prepare for disasters that may or may not happen.

First, let me take a moment to say welcome to all the new listeners and welcome back to the veteran homestead-loving regulars who stop by the FarmCast for every episode. Thank you so much for your time and attention. I appreciate you all so much and I couldn’t do it without you. It’s midwinter and life goes on here at the homestead.

Our Virginia Homestead Life Updates

The cold weather has been consistent for weeks. Not too cold, getting just below freezing at night and 40s and sometimes 50s during the day. This is a typical Southwestern Virginia winter. I look for a few days of freezing weather sometime in the near future. A typical winter will have at least four or five days when the temperatures drop all the way to the teens and occasionally single digits overnight. That four or five day stretch usually happens at least once and sometimes twice, usually in January. It hasn’t happened yet. Still waiting for that shoe to drop. We did have some unseasonably cold weather in December, but January is proceeding right long the normal line.

Cows

The cows are handling the cold weather as they always do. It amazes me that these animals can go through the winter without seeming to notice it too much. I go out there and the cows are moseying around, eating grass and/or hay looking like they don’t have a care in the world. If they are eating, they are laying down, relaxing and chewing their cud, again, like they haven’t got a care in the world. Personally, I don’t handle cold very well, but I’m so glad they do.

Donkeys

The donkeys handle the cold very well also. Their coats are full and thick. Just about everyday they come up to the milking shed looking for a treat. Scott or I will give them a small handful of sweet feed and a petting. When they are finished, they head on down to the creek and out to pasture with everybody else. Our donkeys are the friendliest animals on the homestead.

Sheep and Goats

The sheep and goats always prepare for disaster in winter. They have really thick coats. Our goats are cashmere goats. They have a really thick undercoat of cashmere that they shed in the spring. Our sheep are hair sheep which means they also grow a thick coat of wool and shed it in the spring. No shearing for these sheep. I was watching the ewes graze in the front pasture. Just like the cows, not a care in the world.

Quail

The quail are even more amazing to me. They have feathers and I can’t see that they have any extra feathers for winter. Whatever they have is what they have and that’s it. My ladies and gents have it better than they would out in the wild. There is a box shelter where they can get completely out of the wind. They can huddle together for added warmth. Sometimes I go out there and they are kind of fluffed up, but other than that, not a shiver. Nature is amazing.

Garden

This time of year is the time to plan for the spring garden. What plants will we grow? How many? What will be rotated to another location? And so on. I’m a bit behind on getting started with that but I just can’t seem to drum up the energy. It’s too cold and I don’t want to think about going out in the garden when it is cold. Anyway, I’ll get to it in the next couple of weeks.

Creamery

The creamery roof is nearly complete. Scott is putting the finishing touches on the peaks. He spent much of the day yesterday rigging up a way to safely move around up there. Today he is full steam ahead getting those ridge caps completed.

Still to come is all of the ends of the building above the ground floor. I think they are called dormer walls or something like that. It’s basically the area from the top of the block building to the peak of the roof. All of that will be covered in the same metal as with the roof.

It’s cold out there every day. And every day Scott is out there working in it. He doesn’t mind the cold and he prepares for it with layers of clothes.

Preparing for Disaster

Speaking of being prepared, let me get into how we prepare for disaster. Some of it anyway. I could probably talk all day long about how we created and executed our plan. Some of it is still in progress.

No matter where you are in the world, there is always something you can do to prepare for disaster. You simply never know when power is going to be out or something disrupts the flow of goods. For instance, I got caught short this summer because there was a shortage of canning jars and lids. In the end, I did have enough for what I needed to save our harvests, but it was touch and go sometimes. Recently I came across canning jars while in town and I purchased just about everything they had on the shelf. Still no lids but I got a better stock of jars than I have had in the past. We learn from our mistakes.

Let’s start at the beginning. The first thing to stock up on is water.

Water

You should always have water on hand or access to clean water. Making this happen doesn’t have to cost a lot of money. Today, we have a hand pump connected to our well so we can always get water when needed whether we have power to the well pump or not. Still, we keep water on hand in the house. While it’s easy to go out there and hand pump some water, it is still easier to reach back in a closet or go into the spare bathroom and get some water for cooking, cleaning and flushing.

The recommended amount of water you will want to store is 7.5 gallons of water per person per month. A family of four would have 15 gallons of water stored if preparing for a short-term disaster lasting a few days or weeks. That’s where you always start. How much do I need for 2 to 4 weeks? Then get it done. You have the blue 5-gallon containers at Lowe’s, Home Depot, the grocery, and so on. Invest in a few of those and you are good to go. Strapped for cash? Buy one a week or even one a month. Your stored water will need to be refreshed regularly. Either use it or pour it out, but replaced what you have stored in the containers every 6 months or so. You don’t have to get there all at once. But you do want to get your water situated first.

Food

The second item is food. This one is a little trickier and takes quite a bit more time. So, start now. There are many methods for building up your food stores. Set several goals with this one.

How Many Days to Prepare for Disaster?

First, how many days of food do you need to store? That depends. Start with a week, then go to a month, then three months and so on. Ideally, you get to a place where you have a full year’s worth of food stored for your entire family. That may seem like a lot and it actually is a lot. But for my peace of mind, I wanted a full year of food. You may make your cutoff date sooner – and some even plan for longer.

What Food Should Be Stored?

Second, don’t store anything your family won’t eat. What are you eating right now? That’s what you want to stock up on. Forget the MRE’s and whatever else might sound great or someone might try to sell to prepare for disaster. What you want is food that your family regularly eats. Most foods have a shelf life of at least a year. If you rotate what you have saved, using the oldest stuff first and adding back what you have used in the back of the shelf, you can come up with a system that keeps you stocked up at all times. This is the first in, first out method. Instead of having one box of cereal, you have 12, or whatever you determine is the right number. Buy an extra box or two whenever you shop, or whatever you can afford. Build up slowly. You’ll be there before you know it.

Bulk Foods

One of the best ideas for food is to store some products in bulk containers. I’m talking about beans, rice, sugar and wheat or flour. You can live a long time on beans and rice. And if you are into making your own bread, having wheat or flour on hand at all times is a great idea. This is another place to build slowly.

The pieces you need to do this part effectively are: 5-to-6-gallon food-grade plastic buckets, mylar bags, oxygen absorbers and a standard household iron. The mylar bag goes in the bucket. The beans, rice, wheat, or flour go in the bag. Toss in a couple of oxygen absorbers and seal the bag with your iron. The oxygen absorber will suck out all the oxygen in the bag, And the sealed bag without oxygen will keep the food fresh for up to 30 years. I said 5 or 6-gallon buckets, but you can use smaller buckets. I like the larger buckets because I can buy 40 or 50 pounds of beans or rice and it fits in the larger bucket.

Canned Goods

Let’s talk about canned goods. These can also last for a very long time – not so much as the beans and rice, but still a long while. Those “use-by” dates on the can are not expiration dates. They are CYA dates for the manufacturers. As long as the can is not damaged and the seal is in place, canned food in jars and metal cans will last for years. Food in jars needs to be kept out of the light. And all canned foods need to be kept at room temperature or lower. Keep that in mind when you are planning where to store your stuff. Strapped for space? Under the bed works pretty well. Use that cabinet space up high that is empty because you can’t reach it easily. Find used shelving at yard sales and put it up in your garage. Lots of ways to make the space you need.

And don’t forget the can opener. Not one of those electric ones. No! a hand-operated can opener is needed.

Self-Protection

I’m not going to talk about this one because I’m not educated enough to know what to say. We do have weapons and ammo and such but Scott handles all of that. I’ll just mention it here and say find someone who knows what they are talking about with this and follow their podcasts or YouTube videos. It’s definitely important. And don’t forget to get the proper training. It’s no good to have weapons you don’t know how to use safely and care for properly.

Energy Needs

This is the last piece I’m going to touch on today. There is so much to cover on this topic I couldn’t possibly do it justice. So, I’m just going to give you a bit of information to get you started. Every person’s situation is different and your energy needs are going to be different.

Gasoline

Keep extra gasoline on hand. That’s an easy one. We try to keep 12 containers at all times. I must say, we are not as efficient at this as could be desired. If you have 12 containers of gasoline labeled one each month, rotate through that stock at a particular date in the month. In other words, in January, you empty the container labeled “January” into one of your car gas tanks. Pick a day of the month that you do this. The first, 15th or last day of the month are good choices. Take the empty container and refill it. That newly filled container won’t be emptied for a year and it will require a fuel stabilizer to keep it fresh and usable.

Generator

Having a generator that has enough power to run your refrigerator and freezer is a great tool. Again, add these things as you can afford them. Get your food stores up to a couple of weeks at least before moving on to a generator. Your generator will need to be started once a month to keep it in tip-top shape and so you know it is in good working order. You don’t want to be without power and find out that your generator is no longer working.

Living off the Grid

You may decide to go completely off the grid – or at least be prepared to go completely off the grid. That takes a great deal of planning and the choices are endless so I’m not going to go into that topic. But I will say keep in mind that, while solar sounds really good, if you don’t live in a really, really sunny place it may not be the option for you. There are other options.

Having a wood burning stove is always good. At the very least you can use your gas grill to cook meals – if you have planned ahead and have an extra propane tank or two. We took out our electric stove and put in a gas stove. The oven won’t work but the surface burners can be lit with a match. Keep some of those on hand. I like using what I’m used to using for cooking, so this works for me. We have the wood burning stove as well – complete with an oven. I really should learn how to cook on that thing in the event we run out of propane.

Communication

This is the toughest one to get prepared for in my opinion. How do we communicate? As long as the cell towers are up and running and your phone battery is charged, we can communicate. Well, we would have to climb way up to the top of our property and then maybe, just maybe, we would get a cell signal.

Right now, we have all sorts of social media where we can find out what is going on with family, friends and co-workers. But what if you didn’t have that? How would you get in touch with people? Could you get in touch with people? This topic requires some deep thought, lots of planning, and practice sessions to make sure your plans work. You don’t want to be isolated.

There is a significant amount of banning of communication going on in the large tech communities. They have a great deal of power. Indeed, more power than the US government. They can turn off anyone with the push of a button. They can make you disappear. You might want to consider broadening your reach to smaller platforms if you can find one that works for you and your family.

I have created a page on a site called Locals. You can find me on locals by searching for peaceful heart farm. Once you’ve joined my community, you can post whatever you’d like on my page. We can have a conversation and share insights.

I think I’m going to end there.

Final Thoughts

The animals go on and on and don’t give a thought to whether there is power to heat the house. And as long as the grass and hay keep coming, they are good to go. For us, it’s more complicated. As I said, I don’t like being cold. I’m grateful for our wood burning stove. It saves on electricity in the winter and is quite useful in a pinch for cooking.

I’ve spent years gathering food, both for ourselves and now saving up in case our neighbors are not prepared or not financially able to make it happen. And our water supply will also help out – and indeed has – helped out our neighbors. There is so much more to prepare for disaster but these two pieces are key. Water and food. Start today. You just have no idea when the power lines are going to go down with a winter storm, a hurricane, tornado and so on. It may be only a couple of days but it very well could be weeks. Remember hurricane Sandy and what a disaster that was and not so long ago.

If you enjoyed this podcast, please hop over to Apple Podcasts or whatever podcasting service you use, SUBSCRIBE and give me a 5-star rating and review. If you like this content and want to help out the show, the absolute best way you can do that is to share it with any friends or family who might be interested in this type of content. Let them know about the Peaceful Heart Farmcast. And please give locals.com a try.

Thank you so much for stopping by the homestead and until next time, may God fill your life with grace and peace.

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Check out this episode!

[fortune-ity-blog]

Beauty and the Beast - Levi Ackerman

Hanji smiled softly, looking down at all the children as they sat down at around her feet; they all smiled up at her eagerly. It was storytime in the daycare and as per usual, they were excited to hear what she had to say to them this time as her stories were always exciting and somewhat funny. Sometimes, Hanji told tales of mermaids and pirates, dragons slain by knights to save a princess! Tales of all different sort of people, both big and small that came in all shapes and sizes.

Armin looked up at Hanji with his large blue eyes that shone like the ocean in the midday sun. He said nothing but instead sat at her feet, hugging his blanket closer to himself before making a somewhat startled sound as he felt Annie rest her head on his shoulder with a tired smile afterwards.

"Is everyone ready?" Hanji asked with a raised brow, smiling widely as all of them nodded and continued to watch her with excitement and wonder in their childish eyes. Her smile faltered when she saw Levi in the background sigh in distaste before it returned as she saw her friend Y/N tug at his arm gently before scolding him.

"This story is a bit different, my dearies." Hanji began softly as she grinned down at them. "This story can be known as Beauty and the Beast. It's a tale of how two people that are complete opposites can become the best of friends and eventually husband and wife." She spoke as she took a look at Levi and Y/N in a not so discreet manner. However, Levi and Y/N were not husband and wife - just friends.

"It begins in a small town in France..."

***

Things were quiet as always in the small town, just the same old things going on. A young woman with H/C, H/L hair left the small cottage that she lived in. She was known as Y/N and was extremely beautiful, her E/C eyes left anyone she came across rather stunned but there was something special about her. She loved to read and write about pretty much anything. [I]The others in the village she lived in found her to be weird and rather odd and would have constantly made fun of her if not for her dazzling looks,

Today, however, she had a mission. She planned on trying to get out of town for a while to see where it'd take her. Her father was out of town for a few days due to a festival that he had to attend so Y/N was left in the house all by herself.

As she made her way outside the village, she looked at the scenery with awe in her angelic and kind eyes. It was only dawn, so oranges still mixed with the dark blacks of the nighttime sky. As she left the village and became more immersed in the beautiful scenery she felt herself feeling freer than she had felt in a long time. She loved the people in her town dearly and appreciated them all but at times it became stressful - especially with Nile's flirting and feeble attempts at courting her.

***

"Nile?" Marco interjected with a raised brow. "As in Mr -"

"Ssh!" Jean spoke harshly as he pulled away from Marco's embrace and hugged his horse teddy closer to himself. Hanji laughed.

"Let me continue," Hanji whispered,

***

Y/N's lips curved into a gentle smile as she began to walk up the hill, often having to pick up the skirt of her F/C dress so that she wouldn't trip and stumble. As she walked up to the top of the hill, the wind drew gently which blew her H/C hair back, a few strands fell into her eyes but she didn't mind. There was barely any wind in her town as it was surrounded by the hillside.

After a dreadfully long walk, Y/N finally reached the top of the hill. Her eyes widened as she took in the sights of the meadow and the forest, it was beautiful. The greens and yellows of the fields shone brightly in the morning sun whereas the forest remained hidden. It was like something from the books she read of the tales of faraway countries.

Y/N had always dreamed of travelling, but her family didn't have enough money to allow her to do such a thing. [I]Moving from Paris to this small town took her father of the rest of the money and now they were trying desperately to get it back through her father's inventions and desire to create and mend.

Many had suggested to young Y/N that she found herself a rich and handsome husband and marry him for his money. However, that was dishonest and Y/N hated nothing more than being dishonest. Liars disgusted her to the point she couldn't bear the thought of being dishonest to anyone. If she were to lie, she'd end up hating herself more than possible.

"I..." Y/N started, her voice was as smooth as silk. "I wish I could travel to places more like this," she whispered she her E/C eyes shuttered close, she breathed in the clean air with a gentle smile appearing onto her lips. She stayed like that for a few moments, remembering the places that her storybooks had described to her as clear as day. She wanted to travel to England, to see if the lochs and countryside were truly as beautiful as they had been told.

Her eyes opened once more and she smiled, deciding to take a risk as she made a step towards the other side of the hill. With a gentle smile gracing her lips she began to walk down the side furthest away from the village and soon enough her walk turned into a sprint. Her eyes widened and she began to laugh lightheartedly. Her laughter was almost as beautiful as she was, she had never felt so free!

Y/N continued to run, looking around as she grinned. Her E/C eyes trailed towards the beautiful forest and her lips curved up into a smile once more as her thoughts and senses became clouded with curiosity filled her body.

I think I'll be fine, Y/N thought as she changed directions and made her way towards the forest. She was confident that she wouldn't get lost and that she'd be smart enough to be able to navigate her way out of the forest. After all, how hard could it be? Hunters did it all the time with ease!

***

"Y/N went into the woods? That's scary!" Christa squeaked as she looked up at all of her friends with a timid gaze, Christa was one of the youngest in the group as she was only four years old. Her blue eyes teared up at the sides but she didn't cry.

Ymir huffed and hugged Christa close before looking away to the side and scoffing. "Don't think anything about it - idiot," she murmured softly.

Reiner pouted as he watched the two. "Christa! Come cuddle with me! I'll be nice!" he encouraged before they were all shushed by Mikasa.

***

Y/N soon stumbled far into the woods, she looked at the sky above and frowned as she noticed that the skies above became dark as grey clouds began to cover the sun. Her lips fell down into a frown as she looked around, desperately trying to remember which way she had come from. "Is it to the left...? No, that doesn't seem right-" she mumbled to herself as she began to fell herself become more and more stressed. Fear began to consume her body as she remained silent without as much of a clue as what to say to herself.

I shouldn't have left the village, she thought to herself with a dejected sigh as she made her way to underneath a tree as the rain began to fall from the sigh. She figured that she'd be able to wait things out under the treetops as she didn't want to get any more lost than she already was.

However, as time passed, the sky began to grow darker the rain had only begun to grow stronger which caused Y/N to become more and more worried and fearful about her own health. Her body felt like ice and she was practically shivering.

After a few moments, she heard a low growl from nearby and she began to fear the worst. Her E/C eyes widened in terror and she broke out into a fully grown sprint in any random direction. As she ran through the woods she stumbled a lot, occasionally tripping over a root but managing to regain her composure.

Never in her life had Y/N had to run so fast, with every step she took she feared that her life would quickly meet a horrible and painful death. She didn't want that, she wanted to live and to be able to explore. However, at that very moment, it felt as if fate had different plans for the H/C haired girl.

She soon tripped over on a root and fell to the ground, smacking her head off of the ground as she heard the low growls grow louder. Her vision began to blur as she tried desperately to get away from the beast that was hunting her down. As she moved back she could only see the hungry eyes of a wolf staring at her.

***

"Y/N's hurt!" Mina exclaimed as she clung to her teddy bear. She looked back at the H/C haired caretaker with wide eyes before she looked at the raven-haired man who sat besides Y/N with his arm around her. "M-Mr Levi-!" She sobbed out. "You need to save her!"

Levi remained silent before he nodded slowly. "I will, Mina, don't worry." He spoke before watching as Nanaba made her way to the children and sat down next to Mina, hugging the girl gently and quietly reassuring her that Y/N would be fine.

***

The wolf continued to approach Y/N with hungry eyes when all of a sudden it was hit in the side by a steel blade! The wolf whimpered, however, Y/N did not get to know the fate of the animal as she fell into an unconscious slumber. The last thing she remembered seeing was a figure as pale as the moonlight.

The next morning, Y/N woke up with a start. She had been expecting to wake up in her small bedroom in the house in the village but what she saw was the opposite. The bedroom was larger than the entire upstairs of her house and the walls were a rich scarlet with golden doves painted onto them. The bed was larger than hers by a landslide and had thick pillows and an F/C duvet.

She stepped out of the bed and tensed as she felt that the floor wasn't wooden but instead had a comfortable carpet covering it. [I]It was comfortable enough that it felt like she was walking on clouds. Towards the east side of the room was a large arch-shaped window that showed a most beautiful garden that included an orchard, unlike outside the town it seemed to be a lot more neatly kept than the wild scenery outside the village and as much as Y/N was confused the one thing that she knew was that this place - wherever it is she was - was absolutely beautiful.

Y/N smiled softly and looked at the west side of the room, where a large mirror with golden trimming hung up proudly. The H/C haired woman smiled and made her way towards the mirror before gazing into it. Her E/C eyes still looked tired, but there were no bags under her eyes which was pretty good. Her H/L, H/C hair was in a mess but there was no dirt in it so it wasn't the end of the world. However, her F/C dress had been replaced and she was now wearing an F/C nightgown that fit her body pretty decently, it was a bit big on her and old-fashioned, but that was better than something that was far too tight.

Y/N smiled to herself, soon stretching as she let out a small yawn. She didn't know if she should go to the door or not, after all, she might get lost or walk in on something that she just shouldn't see in general. Considering her options, she opted to just wait until someone came to collect her. The H/C haired woman then looked around, trying to see if she could find a hairbrush or a comb to try to tame her hair.

After a while, she found a brush, it was made from beautiful gold metal and has "Kuchel Ackerman" engraved onto it. Y/N smiled to herself and picked up the brush, beginning to comb through her hair until her beautiful H/C locks were tame and didn't look like she hadn't brushed in days. That's better, Y/N thought with a smile as she carelessly put the brush back on the vanity desk from where she had gotten it.

As she looked up at the mirror, she noticed that there was someone standing behind her and he looked very angry. The first thing that Y/N noticed was his eyes, they were a storm colour and were filled with complete and utter rage.

"Who gave you permission to touch that!?" The man yelled before shoving the girl aside to take the brush from her and he picked it up, staring at it closely. He inspected it closely before his storm-coloured eyes landed on Y/N who was trying to get away from him by taking small steps. "Stay still, brat," he growled out in frustration.

"I can't believe I even brought you here, I bring you here and you make a mess! I should have left you to the wolves so that they wouldn't have starved." He growled in frustration. "Who knows? Maybe then you would have been useful for something."

"Hey!" Y/N yelled as she scowled at him in annoyance. The raven-haired man remained silent as he rose a brow, waiting for Y/N to make her defence, yet she said nothing and just looked away/ He couldn't help but smirk at her. "That's what I thought," he grumbled softly as he soon began to clean the handmark off of the golden brush that he treasured so dearly.

***

"He's mean," Mina mumbled as she stared up at Nanaba who smiled awkwardly and nodded. Meanwhile, Levi just scoffed at Hanji's way of describing him but despite that, he knew it was pretty accurate. Sadly.

***

"Who are you, anyway?" Y/N asked as she rose a brow and sighed, she stared at the man in awe. If not for his mean personality and demeanour she would have been able to say that he was incredibly handsome. Not that looks cared, he was still being a jerk so far in all honesty and Y/N would rather have the nicest man in the world than the most handsome.

"Levi. Ackerman." He spoke shortly before looking at her as his lips tugged down into a frown that seemed pretty natural; Y/N assumed that he didn't smile all that often if not at all.

"Oh - well I'm-" Y/N began before she was cut off with a rather bitter laugh.

"I don't care who you are, brat. You're a brat all in all." The man, Levi, scoffed as he looked at her with a bored and rather smug look on his devilishly handsome face. Y/N huffed and turned her head the other way, crossing her arms as she stared at him in dismay before she went to leave the room.

"You're going out in that?" Levi demanded in a weirded out tone as he rose a brow before scoffing in dismay. "Whatever, it's your choice, brat. You could go out naked for all I care." He huffed as he soon looked at the bed and frowned. "God, you really are spoiled aren't you? You could have at least made the bed!"

"Me, spoiled!?" Y/N demanded in an offended tone as she rose a brow, her face becoming red in anger as her E/C eyes refused to meet his gaze. She felt like she'd snap and yell at him if she looked at him. "That's rich coming from you, seeing as you've got your head shoved so far up -" Y/N began before taking a deep breath and shaking her head before sighing and forcing herself to calm down.

Levi smirked and rolled his eyes before he went to the door and opened it. "Get dressed into something more... proper, I'll have someone here to come to help you dress," he spoke coldly before shutting the door behind him without giving her any time to even consider responding.

Honestly, he has some nerve! Y/N thought as her fist clenched and then unclenched once more. There was soon a knock at the door which caused for Y/N to jump, looking at the large door in confusion before she sighed softly. "Who is it? Levi, if it's you then I don't want to talk!" The woman called out as she frowned, crossing her arms whilst staring intently at the door. If she stared any harder it probably would have burst up into flames.

"What, no? I'm not Levi," another voice spoke. It wasn't Levi's voice as it had some emotion to it but was still rather stiff. Y/N relaxed and sighed softly and she smiled, grateful that it wasn't the cruel and harsh Levi. "May I come in? My name is Mike, by the way." His smooth voice spoke in a soothing tone as to not annoy or possibly scare the girl.

"Oh yeah," Y/N spoke as she took a seat on the bed, her knees pressed together as she stared at the door as she watched it open to reveal a tall man who was rather muscular, he had dirty blonde hair that was in curtains. Y/N was confident that if she moved his hair it would have hidden his eyes. "Y/N L/N."

"Well Y/N." Mark started smoothly as he smiled at her. "It's an honour to meet you," he spoke with a bow afterwards before taking her hand into his and kissing the back of her hand. Y/N gave a sweet smile and a giggle that momentarily made the tall, charming man lose his composure. One thing he noticed was that she had a scent of  (favourite flower) around her. Mike liked the smell, it calmed him down greatly.

"Anyways, you should get ready," Mike spoke slowly, it sounded like an offer but it wasn't. If Levi wanted something done, Mike made sure that it would have to happen. The look in his dark eyes proved that and Y/N scowled.

Was this what was to become of her? A servant to such a horrible and cold man? Who knows.

"Levi expects you to be there at dinner. Wear something presentable," Mike ordered with a sigh afterwards as he made his way back to the door. He ignored Y/N's cold glare and answered her question before she could even ask it:

"You will go, Lady L/N. Or I'll drag you there myself."

***

The children all stared, some of them looked satisfied with the cliffhanger of an ending and others not so much. The children had instantly begun to ask questions and discuss. But discussing soon became arguing.

"Poor Y/N!" Sobbed out Christa as she clung to Reiner, who was just smiling and rubbing her back gently as if to calm her down.

"Honestly, she deserved it for running off like an idiot," Ymir scoffed. "Did not!" Christa shouted back with a huff before she clung to Y/N, startling the H/C haired woman before she laughed gently. "You're going to be okay, Christa." Y/N reassured her.

"Please don't leave us, Y/N!" Christa exclaimed with a soft sniffle afterwards. Levi loudly scoffed, grabbing everyone's attention.

"Like I'd ever let anyone harm Y/N. She's such an idiot that she needs me around her." Levi scoffed, rolling his eyes despite Y/N's half amused - half offended expression.

"Y/N L/N. You belong to me."

[geethedentist]

The Sassenach Warrior

Read Chapter 3 here!

Chapter 4: Fear of Flames

Much of the next three days involved cold rain, Rupert following me everywhere I went, and a great deal of sleeping. I hadn’t spoken to Colum or Dougal but I knew beyond doubt that they were both aware of my activities at any given moment. I felt like a caged animal and it was only getting worse, especially because there was nothing I could do for myself at present in order to facilitate my release (or escape). A mundane atmosphere had settled over Castle Leoch after the commotion of my first day, but it would not last for long. Rupert and Angus found me in the grand hall on the fourth morning, eating porridge. They approached me purposefully; they wanted something. 

“Good mornin’ to ye Claire,” said Angus cheerfully. I raised an eyebrow, mouth full of porridge. 

“Out with it.” 

“We canna be polite and say good mornin’?” Rupert said. 

“Oh my apologies, good morning. Now out with it.” The spoon clattered in the bowl. 

“Well,” Angus began, “the Gathering is in just a few days…” 

“Just a moment, will somebody please tell me what this Gathering is?” I had heard it mentioned many times during my short stay but I hadn’t paid much attention. However, it was beginning to sound like a big deal. It was beginning to sound like my way out. 

“Oh aye, there hasna been a Gathering since we were bairns! ’Tis when our clan come from all over the Mackenzie lands to swear loyalty to the Laird.” Angus moved his hands around as he spoke. 

Rupert cut in. “But ’tis also a great celebration of our clan. We tell stories, we dance, we eat. It’s a drunken spectacular occasion. I’ve been lookin’ forward to it for years!” 

“Drunken?” I asked with interest. 

“Colum brings out his Rhenish and there’s rarely a sober moment for the entire week!” He said. 

The alcohol was of interest to me, but not because I wanted to drink it. “So why is it you require my assistance?” 

“Word of the deer ye shot the other morning has traveled ‘round Leoch, and we’d like ye to come wi’ us to hunt some game for the feast,” Angus said, finally getting to the point. 

“Ah. I see. Why should I be inclined to help? I am a captive after all.” I wanted to seem unwilling. But truthfully, this was the perfect opportunity to investigate the lands surrounding Castle Leoch. The goal was to facilitate my escape by becoming familiar with the area, to slip well out of range before anyone knew I was gone. I had decided on the spot to use the Gathering as a diversion, and the Rhenish to get my ring back. 

“Ye’ve got the sharpest eyes and the deadliest shot, ’tis yer chance to show the men how it’s done,” Rupert was trying to flatter me. I pretended to mull it over. 

“Fine, I will help you. But whoever is accompanying us on this expedition better not be stomping around and scaring the whole damn forest.” 

__________________________________________________________________

“I am just going to the stables. You can watch me walk there and back!” I threw my hands up in the air. I needed a horse for this hunting brigade and I wanted to speak with Jamie in private. He had been spending much of the last few days tending the horses. 

“But Dougal…” Rupert began, then he seemed to give up. I think he wanted a break from me as much as I wanted one from him. “Fine, but have Jamie walk ye back aye?” 

I walked up the hill to the stable, finally alone. My apprehension increased with each step. I felt compelled to clear the air regarding my revelation three days prior. While fairly certain that he harbored no hostility or resentment at the outburst, I had shared something I had been meaning to take to my grave, however soon I might end up in it. The stable was at the crest of the hill and I stopped for a moment of peace, surveying the valley. An instant where I thought of nothing but this exact point in time, while forgetting all the others. The wind bore the fresh smell of rain. There were rolling gray clouds. The surrounding countryside was beautiful. It felt ancient, and I suppose it was. My roots did not share this quality; there was history here. It made me feel like outsider, an intruder. A soft deep voice drifted over to me on the wind. 

I quietly approached the entrance to the stable. The interior was dim and warm. Jamie was not aware of my presence, and I watched him for a moment. He stood in front of a majestic white filly, about six feet away. His back faced me; the scars criss-crossed underneath the fabric. I wished to comfort him again. His rough but gentle hands were running down the horse’s neck and mane as he spoke lowly in a completely different language, as ancient and harsh as the land. It seemed to have quite an effect on the horse, and on me as well. I found I had relaxed, the tension escaping my shoulders and jaw. With absolutely no notion of what he said, I could not help but listen nonetheless. Being drawn in by an invisible force, I took step closer and then … 

I ruined everything. 

The horse was just as aware of my presence as Jamie was. I suppose merely saying  that I startled it is a massive understatement. The horse reared up on its hind legs with a wild high-pitched whinny, knocking Jamie backwards onto the ground. The grating speech that fell from his lips could only be profanity, and I didn’t have to speak that language to know it. As he tried to scramble to his feet I had come behind to help him up. He turned to see me and a look of confusion crossed his face. The tantrum not quite finished, the horse’s powerful legs shot back and kicked over the lantern that was sitting on the stool. We watched it shatter on the floor and ignite the large pile of hay next to it. It quickly began to spread. 

Flames danced before my eyes and suddenly I was back in Uncle Lamb’s house. I was struggling to breathe, desperately trying to reach him, so we could escape. I couldn’t find him … couldn’t save him. It’s my fault. I screamed for him. It was getting hotter and hotter … 

Someone was calling out for me … Uncle Lamb?

… “Sassenach! Claire!” Jamie’s hands were frantically shaking me. I had ended up curled in a ball on the ground, both hands shielding my head. They were trembling violently. 

“Ye must help me put the fire out before it burns down the entire stable!” The other horses were going mad in their stalls. He grasped my hand and pulled me to my feet. 

“No. No …” I was shaking my head as I tried to back away. Jamie grasped my hand tighter. 

“Claire. It will be okay. The fire isna that large yet, we can still stop it. I won’t let anything hurt you. I promise.” 

After he had tied up the white horse outside, we were both running back and forth to the water trough filling and refilling buckets to throw on the fire. Several minutes later we were sitting on the floor, backs against the wall and breathing heavily. A large puddle of water flooded the stable and me and Jamie were dripping wet. I gripped my knees with my hands in an effort to stop them from shaking. My head was thrown back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched so tightly it hurt. Tears stung the corners of my eyes but I would be damned if I let them fall. We sat in silence for many minutes. 

“Ye’re afraid of fire?” Jamie asked softly. 

I nodded once, eyes still closed. Somehow this felt better than to verbally admit it to him. 

“It’s okay, Claire,” he turned to face me. “Everyone has their own fears and demons, I dinna think any less of ye.” 

“I do,” I whispered. It wasn’t just the fire in itself, and I could tell he knew that. 

As always, he could also tell I didn’t wish to speak about it and pressed me no further. “Please, don’t mention this to anyone,” I pleaded. 

He smiled, and I knew then he would say nothing about my previous admission as well. “Your secret is safe with me.”

I chuckled darkly. Yes, one of them.

__________________________________________________________________

Surprisingly, the small hunting trip passed without incident. I had hoped it would  help me gain some trust. However, it was clear for the time being that Claire Beauchamp would remain a guest of Clan Mackenzie.

The men were moving the large stag and the two wild hogs I had killed into the kitchen when we returned to Leoch. I flopped down a bench in the nearby garden, Rupert’s watchful eyes on me from the doorway. I looked up to see a woman gathering herbs. She was tall and thin, with waist length red hair. She spoke to me, and I wished Jamie was there instead. Meeting new people in this situation was proving dangerous for me.

“Claire is it? The Sassenach.” Her eyes were piercing green. It didn’t sound the same as when Jamie said it. 

My guard up once more, I answered her. “And you are?” 

“Geillis Duncan, I live in the town of Crainsmuir. I use herbs and medicine to help certain … ailments.” 

I had heard her name before, whilst wandering about the castle bored to tears one day. She was married to Arthur Duncan, the town fiscal. It had come to my understanding that she was revered by some for her abilities to heal using herbs. Others however, suspected her of witchcraft. I was curious what she thought of these opinions, no doubt she was aware of them. 

“You know there are some people who find your methods suspicious,” I challenged her. 

“Oh aye, they say I’m a witch.” She wasn’t the least bit perturbed by it.

I had dwelt upon the reality of witchcraft and the supernatural many times. While I doubted the existence of things such as casting spells or bending someone to your will, I couldn’t deny the existence of something greater out there, something nobody could wrap their head around. I supposed this was saying a lot, considering everyone else in my midst would not hesitate to hang anyone whom they thought consorted with such practices. I imagined that Geillis was only safe due to the important status of her husband. 

“You arena from here, are ye Claire?” She asked suddenly 

“Clearly not,” I answered, exaggerating my accent for emphasis. 

“Ah but ye’re not from England either.” 

My eyes widened fractionally, but she caught it. I opened my mouth to rebuke her but she cut me off. “It’s all right,” she said quickly, “nobody else knows.” 

Maybe she was a witch, after all. 

“But how …?” My breathing had sped up and I began to sweat. 

“Look Claire, I like ye. I like the way ye think and how ye act upon it. Ye’re strong, wi’ progressive mind, something many lack. I think ye’ll find in days to come that will be your greatest asset. Dinna forget that.” She  squeezed my hands and rose to leave. Far too distressed to question her further, I watched in panic as she made her way out of the garden, towards town. I knew with no uncertainty, that this would not be our last meeting. 

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The Gathering began the following day and it was everything Rupert and Angus said it would be. Still quite shaken after speaking with Geillis, I tried to push her to the very back of my mind. I needed to concentrate, and I needed to make sure Dougal was as inebriated as possible. The grand hall was filling up with people all dressed their best, all wearing the Mackenzie tartan. I could imagine how I looked in comparison. Hair piled on my head, white linen shirt tucked into slightly less ratty pants. Mrs. Fitz had found them for me after she grudgingly accepted that I would not be wearing a dress. She tied a scrap of the tartan around my head in a knot, like a bandanna. I was standing in the back of the room. Bagpipes were playing and men were lining up in front of Colum, Dougal standing proudly in front.

I heard a commotion behind me and a very angry exchange in that strange, guttural speech which I learned was called Gaelic. Angus pushed Jamie through the doorway to stand in the back of the line. He looked miserable. I saw him remove the brooch from his plaid and slip it into his sporran. His fingers tapped steadily against his thigh, and he rocked back and forth on his feet. I laid a hand on his arm. 

“Jamie, are you quite all right?” I asked him quietly. 

He exhaled strongly through his nose. “No. I am being forced into a verra difficult position ye see.” 

“Difficult? In what way? You’re the Laird’s nephew!” 

He smiled ruefully. “That’s just it aye? If I swear loyalty to Colum they shall think I am after the lairdship, which Dougal clearly wants and Colum’s young son Hamish is supposed to inherit. I should think I will be met with much ill will and hostility. On the other hand, if I do not swear loyalty, who knows what they will do to me!” 

“And you don’t want to give yourself to Colum, because of your true clan. I see.” 

We had moved too far up to continue the conversation, and Jamie was getting more and more apprehensive. When he reached Colum, he stood up straight and squared his shoulders. 

“Colum MacKenzie, I come to you as kinsman and as ally. I give ye no vow, for my oath is pledged to the name that I bear.” Chatter went through crowd, but he ignored it and went on. “But I give ye freely the things that I have; my help and my goodwill, wherever ye should find need of them. I give ye my obedience, as kinsman and as laird, and I hold myself bound by your word, so long as my feet rest on the lands of clan MacKenzie.”

Colum spoke, addressing Jamie as well as the assemby. “We are honored by your offer of friendship, we accept ye as an ally of this clan.” He held out the glass of wine, and I let out a long breath. 

__________________________________________________________________

With all of the oaths taken, the music and dancing commenced. It went on for hours. I sat there through a good deal of it, politely refusing any offers of drink and food. I wanted the Mackenzies, particularly Colum and Dougal, to see that I had been present. After a while however, I felt that I needed to leave. I felt as if I was watching from the outside in. Everyone was laughing and telling stories. It reminded me too much of something I never had, and never will have. I sat alone at one of the long tables, propping my head up with one hand and absently drawing circles in the wood with the other. I heaved a big sigh. I had been desperately trying to think of a way to get the ring back before the Gathering was over. However, Dougal had been surrounded by people all night, and now I couldn’t see him at all. Figuring nobody would miss me if I went up to bed, I got up and sadly made to leave. Jamie was trying to push his way towards me through the crowd but I kept going. I trudged wearily through the dark hallways, trying to come up with a solid plan. I had nothing to report to Colum concerning any rebellious behavior by Dougal, and Dougal still didn’t trust me one bit. Giving up, the best thing right now was a long sleep. I rounded a corner and smacked into a wall, a wall that spewed profanity and reeked of alcohol. 

“Watch where you’re going!” I said angrily, completely not in the mood to deal with drunken Scotsmen. 

“I could say the same to you, lass.” 

I gasped; it was Dougal. “Enjoying the celebration are ye?” He continued. He walked in a circle around me, staggering as he went. His eyes were unfocused. I silently thanked whatever greater being was listening because this could not have been more perfect. He would remember nothing come morning, and I would be long gone. I scanned for the ring; it was not around his neck. I presumed it was in his sporran, hidden beneath layers of plaid. Still I said nothing, but let him talk. 

“Ye ken lassies like yerself arena supposed to me wearin’ pants like these.” 

I bristled, but still said nothing. 

“However I feel inclined to let it slide given how bonny yer arse looks.” Typical vile man. When he realized that I was not going to run away, I saw his confidence increase further. I was now trapped between Dougal and the wall. He lowered his head and breathed in my scent. His hands went to my hair and it took everything I had not to knock him out. I slowly and carefully let my hands sneak into the folds of plaid in search of the sporran and I felt him smile against my neck. My fingers found the pouch and I lifted the flap. I brushed against cool metal … 

The sound of running footsteps down the hall. They were getting closer. Dougal guiltily jerked away from me; he had a wife after all. I made a wild grab but my prize was now out of reach. 

“Jamie?” Laoghaire’s high pitched voice echoed through the corridor. 

Dougal groaned, “He isna here, lass.” He turned to me with a smoldering look. “Goodnight to ye, Miss Claire.” The tone and the smirk were unmistakable: he was intending to recommence this encounter at earliest convenience. He began to stagger back towards the stairs, clutching the wall for support. 

I glared at Laoghaire. “What are you doing here?”

She stupidly twirled her hair. “I was just lookin’ for Jamie, I saw him follow ye out of the grand hall and … well … he always seems to be around ye, so …” 

“Well you thought wrong, didn’t you?” I said harshly. “Just because you found me does not imply that Jamie is anywhere nearby.” 

“Well he’s always lookin’ at ye!” She half shouted back at me. “And he always wants to be around ye! Why are ye tryin’ to steal him away from me? He doesna want me half as much as he wants you!” 

“Oh no? Why would Jamie want me? Look at me!” I spat back at her. Initially I had been angry with her for foiling my ring heist, but now all this talk about Jamie was fueling my anger even more. I didn’t know why it affected me like it did, why it created foreign feelings inside me. I wanted them to stop. Now. 

I tried with great effort to calm my voice. “Now that we have established that I am quite alone, I am going to bed. You may run along now and find Jamie and have him all to yourself. I. Don’t. Care.” Without waiting for an answer, I turned on my heel and stalked off around the corner. 

__________________________________________________________________

That night, Geillis Duncan paced her attic, where all sorts of herbs hung from the ceiling. Dozens of old book lined the shelves, and all sorts of differently shaped bottles sat on her table. Her long, flame colored hair swung gently from side to side. She had planted the seeds in Claire Fraser’s brain. She and the red fox would be key in the next Rising. She stopped in front of the mirror and fingered the small circular mark on her upper arm.