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aelowan · 3 years

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Special Delivery – A Books of Binding Short Story

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

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

She was lovely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Most.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Etienne looked pleased but said nothing.

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

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

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

Doctor Gloria Park’s domain.

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

Cian had to admit that he did, too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Winter nodded. “Trade you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 3 years

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Imagine being the selkie of the red haired pirates part 1

You: * finished hunting for treasure with red haired pirates * it's been fun, boys

Shanks: *takes in your form thoughtfully*

You: *wearing a simple white button down, black pants and boots, and your speckled pelt fastened around your waist with a belt*

Shanks: join my crew

You: what?

Shanks: I'm serious, join my crew

You: you know what, sure why not.

On a winter island two years later

You and Shanks: *cuddling in the bird's nest for warmth while on night watch*

Shanks: it's so cold

You: a little bit

Shanks: oh right you're from a winter island aren't you?

You: yeah

Shanks: you're used to this then, lucky

You: *pulls your seal pelt out from your belt and wraps it around his shoulders* here this ought to keep you warm

Shanks: what is this thing by the way?

You: it's a seal pelt

Shanks: why do you have this?

You: various reasons, but it's mostly ... Sentimental I guess. It's the most important thing I own.

Shanks: why, if you don't mind me asking?

You: *thinking of a way of explaining it without outing yourself and without lying to him* it is the ticket that offers me the freedom of the sea. There's no other way I can explain it

Shanks: well then I better not hog this ticket to myself tonight, come 'ere *pulls you into his lap and wraps the pelt around the both of you*

Two days later

Shanks: *gets blown into the cold sea of the winter island*

Benn: Captain!!

You: *starts striping your clothing intending to go after him*

Yassop: (y/n) what are you doing he's gone, there's nothing you can do to save him.

You: yes I can *strips until you're just in your underwear*

Benn: you'll kill yourself!

You: trust me, start lowering the paddle boat and keep it down untill I come back *grabs your pelt and jumps into the ocean*

Benn: *lunges to stop you but misses* (y/n)!

You: *looks around for Shanks in the water as you pull on you pelt*

Shanks: *slowly sinking fifty feet down*

You: *turns into a large leopard seal and scoops him up and takes him back to the ship and throws him into the lowered row boat, turns back and claims in yourself* pull us up!

Once on the ship

You, soon as the row boat has been pulled up: hurry let's get him inside!

The crew: *pulls him back into the warmth of the galley and begin striping him of his clothing and covering him with blankets*

You: *wraps the pelt around you and follows them into the galley* is he gonna be okay?

Doc: yes, you got him just in the nick of time

Benn: *hands you a towels* how'd you do that? Never seen anything like that before.

A short explanation later

Benn: so you're not human? But you're not a Fishman?

You: no I'm a sidhe, more specifically a Selkie.

Benn: ...wait, if that's true when you meant that this pelt was your ticket to the "freedom of the sea" or whatever, then can you not change without the pelt?

You: yeah *a little annoyed he figured that out*

Benn: *crosses his arms* then we better protect that pelt at all costs, that pelt opens up a whole new world of treasure that's in our grasps. Captain's going to be so happy.

You: I'm not able to swim all the way down, even I have a crush depth and a limit on how long I can dive down.

Yassop: *eavesdropping the whole time* have you ever been chased by a shark?

You: yes, and orcas, the latter of which is a bigger threat to me.

Yassop: damn how'd you get away?

You: usually just luck or outsmarting the predator, I once hid in the mouth of a whale shark to avoid a shark. Oh and this one time I fought a lone orca as a seal with a sword in my mouth, and~

Benn: tell us later, go put on pants, blubber butt *pushes you towards the door*

Part 2

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theteasetwrites · 3 years

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Thy Saints Surrounded

Chapter 4: Cat Sidhe

❧ Pairing: Murphy MacManus x Reader ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mild swearing ❧ Word Count: 4.6k

❧ In This Chapter: Your first “date” with Murphy goes quite well, and ends in you inviting him to your apartment for coffee, where you learn a little more about each other.

❧ A/N: Ugh, sorry this took so long to get out! Sometimes it takes me longer with this series I've found. Even so, I'm going to see it through till the end (no giving up on series here). In this chapter, Reader has her first official "date" with Murphy, and she invites him in her apartment to meet her kitty (who is essentially just an insert of my own cat, Minuet). Oh, and "cat sidhe" means "fairy cat" in Irish. Not that I speak Irish... I'm like zero percent Irish lol. Have been there though. I highly recommend.

You weren’t entirely sure how it happened. Maybe it was from offhandedly mentioning in conversation with Murphy that you loved rainbow sherbet ice cream, and maybe you casually mentioned a nearby ice cream shop that made the best in South Boston, but somehow you ended up in said ice cream parlor with said Irish guy.

Granted, you didn’t think it was a date. You were still firmly grounded in the belief that Murphy was completely out of your league. Why? Well, you didn’t have much of a reason. It just seemed too good to be true.

He was nice, and you found yourself thinking about him and that crooked smile much more than you would have liked to admit. Seeing him with a dab of strawberry ice cream on the tip of his short button nose was just another image you wouldn’t be able to get out of your damn mind.

“Uh, you got a little something…” you said to him as you walked along the sidewalk, gesturing to the pastel pink glob of dessert resting upon his nose from his less than graceful eating of his ice cream cone.

With a wide-eyed look of embarrassment, he quickly rubbed his nose with the back of his free hand. “Thanks,” he said with a sniffle.

You laughed. “Don’t mention it. Is it good?”

He examined his ice cream cone then nodded his head. “Aye, pretty good. Don’t think I’ve ever met an ice cream cone I didn’t like.”

You nodded. “Same here. And, uh… thanks again for buying. You didn’t have to.”

When Murphy insisted upon paying for your ice cream, you simply had no choice but to go along with it. The man was adamant about paying for it.

He shrugged with that crooked smile you found so endearing. “It’s nothing. That’s what the guy’s supposed to do.”

Murphy cursed himself for saying the wrong thing, yet again. Perhaps you didn’t think it was a date, and Murphy’s comment implied that he thought it was one. Of course, he certainly would have liked the evening excursion to be a date when you brought it up that morning, but he knew he shouldn’t assume anything.

He was about to deflect, but you quickly responded. “Is—isn’t that for dates?”

This time, you cursed yourself. You should’ve just not said anything. Maybe he wasn’t referring to dates, maybe he was just… saying that men should pay. Maybe Murphy was extremely chivalrous, not just for dates but for friends.

After all, what would a guy like that want with you?

While you berated yourself internally, Murphy felt a sudden burst of confidence. You mentioned dates, and what better time for him to mention that he was hoping the rendezvous would be considered a date, the first of many, ideally.

“Um,” he said, scratching the back of his neck with the hand that wasn’t holding his ice cream cone as he walked with you through the cool Boston night, “well, I suppose this is a date… I mean, if you want it to be. It… can be.”

You blushed. You were sure of it. That familiar heat rising from your stomach to your heart and finally settling in your cheeks, leaving behind butterflies fluttering all throughout your increasingly warm body.

You looked down at your feet as you walked, pinpointing your sights on the faint shine glimmering off your scuffed Doc Martens as they reflected the yellow glow of the streetlights.

“Do… do you want it to be a date?” you asked.

Murphy slowed his pace as he thought. Of course, he knew the answer to that, but he wasn’t sure if that was what you wanted. In any case, he had to be transparent.

He wasn’t expecting it to come on so suddenly, his admission of his liking for you. Moreover, his infatuation with you. Really, he was hoping he wouldn’t have to admit it at all, that the two of you would share some kind of magical moment in which your lips happened to connect in a serendipitous fashion.

“Y-yeah,” he said, raising his head to look at you. You turned to face him, the two of you still walking rather aimlessly, to the point where you had no idea where you were now. “I’ve… kinda wanted to ask you on a date for a while. Just didn’t know how.”

The incessant fluttering in your chest was almost sickening. It felt good, but it was so overwhelming that you were sure you’d succumb to cardiac arrest at any moment.

If this was a date, it was your first date. And if Murphy wasn’t messing with you, which was always a fear of yours, then this was the first guy to ever say anything remotely indicating that he was interested in dating you. Not sleeping with you, or just being friends, dating you.

“Really?” you asked incredulously.

Murphy made a befuddled squint, then laughed. “Shit, yeah. I really, really like you, (Y/N).”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Um, cool,” you said awkwardly.

Truthfully, you had no idea what to say. You supposed you should have said “I like you too,” but you were still a bit in shock and denial of what was actually happening.

The two of you walked together for a while, talking about the usual things, and you were trying to avoid the “date” conversation as much as possible. It wasn’t the kind of conversation you could see yourself having without saying something stupid.

At some point, Murphy walked you back to your apartment. He must’ve been paying more attention to where you were going than you, because after Murphy essentially confessed his feelings for you, you couldn’t tell your ass from your elbow.

“Would you like to come in for a bit?” you asked him.

Once again, only after the phrase left your mouth did you realize what you’d said.

Typically, that was the end-of-date signal for “I want to have sex now.” At least, in the movies that’s how it always went.

You weren’t, however, anywhere near ready to have sex with Murphy. You weren’t even a hundred percent sure he actually knew what he was saying when he said he liked you.

“I mean, like just hang out. I can make you a latte. Do you like cats? I have a cat.” You practically stumbled over your own words in a frenzy to defend your invitation, then closed your eyes and sighed to start over. “Would you like to come inside?”

Murphy smiled widely. “Aye.”

You jingled the keys nervously as you desperately tried to find your house key somewhere on the keyring ring. You now very much regretted the wide variety of novelty keychains you hooked onto it, and your lack of ability to remember to take off keys you no longer needed.

After you made a jolly little tune with your jingling keys, you finally managed to find your house key and slot it into the door.

Next was the journey up the stairs and into the landing which led to your apartment door.

More keys jangling, of course.

Then, as if by some miracle, you finally led Murphy into your apartment. You switched on the light next to the door and sighed as you gestured to the modest living space around you.

“Home sweet home,” you said with a nervous laugh.

You watched him as he looked around. “This is nice,” he said. “You got a roommate?” he asked, hoping you didn’t think he was asking that to be a weirdo.

You kicked off your shoes, sparking Murphy to do the same. He wasn’t used to it, the shoes-off thing. After all, his apartment was disgusting even without muddy shoe prints on the floor. It was a condemned loft, and himself and Connor were essentially squatters. The place was falling apart, but it was a roof.

Truly, your apartment was nothing like his. Colorful, vibrant, and adorned with twinkle lights and drapes of colored transparent fabrics, the intermingling of which created a beautiful cascade of yellows, pinks, blues, and purples.

He probably should have assumed you lived alone since it was obvious that the place was a studio. Out of the corner of his eye he could see your bedroom space merely divided from the living space by a large fabric partition covered in hand painted flowers, impressionist style.

In theory, it wasn’t too different from his own apartment: kitchen, living room, and bedroom all in one space. Only difference was, your place had a separate bathroom. Murphy’s bathroom was just… there.

“No,” you said. “I’m only able to afford this place because my mom knows the landlord. Kind of negotiated a cheaper rent, thank God. No roommate needed, except her.”

You pointed to Mimsy, who had risen from her slumber on her fluffy window perch beside your own bed.

She stretched her legs as she curiously sauntered towards Murphy. Once she inspected him from a safe distance, she suddenly meowed at him and started inching closer until he could bend down to pet her.

“Wow,” he said quietly, moving his hands delicately across her sleek frame, “she’s lovely.”

You smiled. “She’s my baby.”

He squatted down and began petting the little white cat more enthusiastically, scratching her chin and patting the space where her back met her upright tail. “What’s her name?”

“Mimsy,” you said. “But I call her Mim a lot.”

Murphy moved to stand up, to which Mimsy meowed loudly at him, demanding more pets from the man she seemed to be taken with.

“She’s friendly,” Murphy said in an amused tone. “More like a dog than a cat.”

You laughed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her. She’s usually never like this with new people. You must be special.”

He smirked and scratched the back of his neck. “Nah,” he said. “Nothin’ special about me. She’s just a good cat.”

You headed into the kitchen, only a few steps away, and began preparing two lattes. Your espresso machine wasn’t nearly as nice as the commercial one at the café, but you’d be damned if you weren’t going to make Murphy a decent latte.

“Can I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the couch.

You nodded. “Sure.”

Murphy nodded to himself, then sat himself down on your red velvet two-seater sofa. He tucked his arm around a nearby throw pillow, then felt the sudden weight of a small white critter beside him on the other cushion.

Mimsy slowly walked across the couch to him, settling herself on Murphy’s lap and lifting her head up at him to signal more pets.

Murphy shook his head and breathed a small chortle. “This is the most affectionate cat I ever met,” he said. “Where’d you get her?”

He patted her head, to which she closed her eyes and began purring as his hand moved down her back, lifting up again periodically to repeat the motion.

You looked over and watched as you made Murphy’s latte. “Humane society nearby. I was lonely, needed someone to talk to I guess. When I moved here I didn’t really have any friends.”

“Why’d you come here anyway?” he asked. He knew you were from California from your prior conversations, and that you came to Boston after graduating college a year earlier, but he never knew why you came to Boston.

You leaned against the kitchen counter to face him as you waited for the machine to do its magic. “Well,” you sighed, “I just… wanted to go somewhere different, experience a new place. My parents gave me some money after graduating, and I used it to come here, try to get my own radio show, I guess. That’s what I’d like to do, anyway. It’s why I’m volunteering at that station.”

Murphy nodded as he noticed Mimsy had curled up in his lap, her sleepy face resting in between her stretched out front legs.

“What made ya wanna do radio?”

“My grandpa did it. He was kind of a local celebrity. He’d take me to his station sometimes, let me play songs. I always liked it. It’s kind of a stress relief, I think. If I could get paid for it, like he did, that would be the dream. It’s also nice to make people smile, sing along to something while they’re driving to work…I mean, if they like the music you’re playing, obviously.”

Murphy smiled at you from across the room. “I think you’ll make a great professional DJ. You play better stuff than most of that shit on the radio.”

You laughed as you poured the espresso into two hand painted cat mugs—one with a white cat face, and the other with an orange cat face.

“Well, thanks but you must be listening to the wrong stations.” You sat yourself down next to Murphy and Mimsy, handing him his latte and leaning back to blow on yours. “You should listen to WMFO more often. Everything’s freeform, so no one’s contractually obligated to play ‘shit.’ It’s all just what the DJ for that hour picks, which may or may not be shit, but at least it’s always something different.”

Murphy nodded his head as he pet Mimsy, taking in what you were saying as a thought occurred to him, and he couldn’t quite keep himself from blurting it out.

“You still getting rides from that Tony guy?”

It’d been a month since the little incident with Tony at the coffee shop. Murphy hadn’t seen him around at all, but he and Connor were being followed by a mysterious Italian sports car, which he assumed either belonged to him or one of his family’s goons.

Murphy hadn’t even brought him up since, but he had hoped you weren’t being bothered by him too.

“Um, no… I’m taking taxis. But I still have a slot right after him, and… I see him at the station.”

“He bothering you?” he asked.

You shook your head. “Not explicitly. He hasn’t said anything to me. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing, though. It kind of freaks me out, the silence.”

“But he hasn’t given you any trouble?”

You shrugged, then turned to look at Murphy. You broke out in a laugh when you saw how concerned he seemed to be. “You wanna be my bodyguard or something?”

Murphy smirked. “Nah, just don’t want him botherin’ ya, that’s all. Hate guys like that.”

You stretched your hand to pet Mimsy as she snuggled further into Murphy’s lap and began to doze off. “I don’t think she’s ever liked anyone as much as she likes you,” you said. “She usually hates men, too.”

Murphy laughed. “Well, cats always seem to like me. My ma never let us have pets, but we had this friend, Jack—he lived down the street from us, and everytime we’d go over to his place his cat would follow us back home. Connor hated it, thought it was a bad omen or something. I liked the attention.”

“So you like cats, then?” you said with a hearty laugh.

Murphy nodded. “Yeah. Odd little things. Ya know, there’s some Irish folklore about cats bein’ like fairies.”

You raised an eyebrow as you looked up from the little pur machine radiating in Murphy’s lap. “Really?”

“Mhm,” he said. “Legend has it they cross between the mortal and the spiritual realm, sort of like a link. The uh, ancient Celts thought they could even steal the souls of the dead before God could get ‘em, or something like that. Usually it was a black cat, with a little white spot on the chest.” Murphy lifted Mimsy’s sleepy head to point to the spot where the mark would be. “But, alas,” he said dramatically, “little Mim is all white. Can’t steal any souls, can ya, a mhuirnín?” he said to the cat.

You straightened your back and leaned closer in intrigue. “What does that mean?”

“Just ‘my dear’,” he said nonchalantly. He’d be lying, though, if he wasn’t trying to impress you with his Irish just a little bit, even with the most basic phrase.

“You speak Irish?”

Murphy nodded. “Aye. They teach it in schools there. Most people don’t really learn it, though. It’s an old language, and everything’s in English now. Connor and I just paid a lot of attention, I guess.”

“At least you know two languages,” you said. “I tried to learn Spanish but I think I started too late. It never really stuck. I guess I should try again, though.”

Murphy thought for a moment. Should he really be obnoxious and say something in Spanish? Of course, he hoped you wouldn’t think it would be obnoxious. He hoped you would be impressed. After all, you seemed impressed that he knew Irish.

“Español es un buen idioma para aprender.”

You shook your head in surprise. “Whoa,” you said. “You’re not telling me you speak Spanish, too?”

“He hablado español desde que era pequeño, mi amiga,” he said with a smug smirk. You thought it was quite cute, though. “Hablo italiano,” he continued, much to your intrigue, “francés, y… ruso.”

“Russian?”

“Aye,” he nodded. “It’s easy if you start young.”

“Why’d you learn all those languages? Was it a requirement or something?”

“Not officially,” he said. “Our mother just… wanted us to. She’s a bit,” Murphy made a loop motion with his finger next to his head. “Love ‘er to pieces, but she’s not quite in the pink.”

You laughed. “Well, I suppose making you learn languages wasn’t the worst thing that she could’ve done.”

The night carried on, and an hour or so had passed when Murphy got up to leave, much to Mimsy’s disappointment.

As he stood near the door, she walked in between his legs and began rubbing herself on his calves. He shook his head and laughed.

“Looks like she owns you now,” you said. “She’s marking her territory.”

He leaned down and gave her a few last pets before leaving. “I’m honored,” he said.

“Well,” you sighed, “thanks for hanging out with me… or, taking me on a date, I guess.” You blushed a little at the idea that the evening had been a date. It wasn’t particularly romantic, but Murphy said he considered it a date, so you did, too.

Murphy nodded with the sweet, soft grin he often had. “Yeah, it was nice. A nice date.”

You looked down at your feet for a few moments, thinking of something to say. “You know, I’ve actually never been on a date before.”

Murphy’s eyes widened. He knew you were a virgin based on your accidental admission to him over the phone, but he couldn’t really believe you hadn’t been on a date before. It seemed wrong, like someone like you should’ve been getting dates left and right. To him, you were the most desirable person he’d ever seen.

“You’re shitting me, right?”

You smiled and shook your head. “No. Never been on a date, nothing. So, thanks for being my first.” You quickly realized what you’d said. “I mean, thanks for being my first date.”

Murphy laughed. “You’re welcome. Again, I’m honored. Don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s first date before. Maybe we could… do it again sometime, hang out.”

It was like a fever dream. You couldn’t really comprehend what was happening. Never before had you thought someone would actually want to date you, or see you in that way. At least, not someone like Murphy, who actually seemed to respect you as a person.

“Yeah,” you said. “I think that’d be great.”

Suddenly, an idea occurred to you. Tomorrow was your show, and you really weren’t looking forward to having to deal with Tony. Maybe, just maybe, Murphy would like to come along and make you feel more comfortable. The worst that could happen is that Tony and Murphy would have some kind of confrontation, but maybe Murphy’s presence would be the incitement for Tony to stop staring at you like you had just shit in his cereal.

“Hey,” you began, “my show’s tomorrow… and, I was wondering, if maybe you wanted to come with me? We could take a taxi or something. You could even play your own music. I’ll show you around the station.” Maybe you were getting a little ahead of yourself, but the thoughts kept dropping into your head like atom bombs, and there was no stopping them.

Murphy perked up. “I’d love that,” he said. You blew an internal sigh of relief. “No need for taxis, I can drive us. My brother’s got a car. He won’t miss it. Wednesday 4-5 in the morning, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, sorry it’s so late, or early.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I’ll pick you up around 3:30?”

“Sounds good,” you said.

Before he turned to leave, a sudden boldness overcame you, and a rush of adrenaline surged through you like an earthquake.

You stepped forward, closer to Murphy as he stood in the doorway, caught in between turning away.

“Murphy?” you asked shyly. Your confidence faded as soon as it appeared. You weren’t sure why you moved so close to him, but it seemed right.

He was initially surprised at your sudden movement, but it quickly became comfortable. “Yeah?” he asked, secretly hoping you wouldn’t say anything else and just do what he suspected might’ve been on your mind. He wasn’t going to take any chances, though.

He knew what he wanted to do—he desperately wanted to kiss you, and that for a split second he thought he saw that want in your eyes, too. It was too fleeting to tell.

“Um…” You tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear as you looked at your feet, just an inch or two from his. “Can—can I…” You swallowed hard. “I mean, uh… would you mind if I gave you like… a kiss? Just on the cheek. For… parting.”

It was the most awkward sentence you’d ever uttered, and you were fully prepared to face Murphy’s rejection.

When he just flashed you a lopsided smile and turned his cheek to face you, you laughed and felt a deep relief and comfort. “Is that a yes?”

Murphy rolled his eyes. “Aye, lass. I’m waiting.”

You took a deep breath and leaned forward, your eyes closed and lips pursed slightly as you planted a quick, chaste kiss on Murphy’s soft cheek.

Pulling away, you swore you heard Murphy breathe the cutest little sigh. “Good luck kiss, right?” he asked.

You nodded shyly. “Right. Good luck… getting home.”

When he did get home, Connor practically jumped out of bed at the sound of Murphy’s triumphant hollers.

“She kissed me!” he exclaimed with his arms up in the air.

Connor rubbed his eyes and sat up in his bed to turn on the lamp between his and Connor’s mattresses. “What? Who?”

Murphy tilted his head. “(Y/N), who do ya think, ya gobshite.”

Connor hit his brother’s legs as he walked past to cross over to his own bed, just a foot away from Connor’s. It was always close quarters in the MacManus apartment.

“She kissed ya, huh?”

Murphy shrugged as he tugged off his boots. “Well, uh… I mean, we didn’t lob the gob or anything, but she kissed me on the cheek.”

Connor laughed. “That’s not a kiss,” he said derisively.

Murphy glared at his brother. “It’s a stepping stone,” Murphy said. “Point is, I’m making progress. We agreed it was a date, in fact.”

Connor nodded. “Suppose that’s a good start. I’m assumin’ it went well?”

Murphy sighed as he pulled off his shirt, then proceeded to unbuckle his belt and wriggle out of his light blue jeans as he sat on the edge of the bed. The twins had no qualms with sleeping half-naked only a few feet from each other. In fact, they often walked around the apartment naked without a second thought.

He propped himself on the bed and tucked himself in. “I think so,” he said, folding his arms behind his head on the pillow. “She asked me to drive her to her show Wednesday. Oh, that reminds me—I need ta borrow your car.”

Connor huffed as he threw his arm over his face. “Jesus, you’re already whipped, and so am I, by extension.”

Murphy shook his head at Connor. “Not whipped,” he said. “I do think I love her, though.”

“I think he loves you,” you said in a cheery tone to the little white cat as she waited for you in your bed while you changed into your flannel pajamas. When you were dressed, you plopped yourself down onto the bed and tucked yourself in, trying not to disturb Mimsy as much as possible.

When you were settled, she wasted no time in climbing onto your stomach and making herself comfortable there. You sighed and began bestowing pets upon her head and back as she closed her eyes and began purring in appreciation.

“Maybe you stole his soul,” you said. “Bewitched him or something, like those fairy cats. That’s why he likes me. It’s the only reasonable explanation.”

It seemed more plausible than something actually going your way for once. A cute, nice, respectful guy liking you? Admitting that he wanted to go out on a date with you for a while now? It just seemed wrong, or like something was going to blow up in your face at any minute.

Still, it was a good evening, as far as you were concerned. You were starting to let your guard down around Murphy, which frightened you, but felt good at the same time. The more time you spent with him, the more you felt you could be yourself around him, and it started to feel natural, too.

“Do you like Murphy, Mim?” you asked the cat as she began licking her paws. You tilted your head and giggled. “I like him too… I think he likes me. I have no idea why, but he said he does… God, he wouldn’t like me if he knew I talked to my cat, huh?”

She stopped cleaning herself and looked up at you to give you a slow blink. “Someone’s tired from all that love,” you said to her as you gave her a few more pets. “Bedtime.”

You reached over to your nightstand and pulled the chain on your lamp. You adjusted yourself so you were laying on your left side, and Mimsy adjusted herself accordingly.

You smiled down at the cat, watching as the white blob spun herself in a circle and curled up next to your stomach. She nestled her head into you and you reached down to brush your hand up and down her soft fur.

“Fairy cat,” you said with a smile. “I like that.”

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

✏ Taglist

@browneyes528

If you would like to be added to the tag list for this series, please comment or message me to let me know and I will add you! ❤️

#murphy macmanus #murphy macmanus x reader #murphy macmanus fanfic #the boondock saints fanfic #the boondock saints #thy saints surrounded series

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sailorstarr-chan4 · 3 years

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StarlingChild4's Fic Masterlist!

This is about comprehensive as I could get, so here it is! Pinning it for reference; I will try to update it whenever I can!

Note: some fics I ended up deleting in January 2021 from ff.net and AO3, and while some are still on here, they all remain in my docs, some under construction. I'll slash all deleted fics, in case people want to know which ones are now missing. Most of the linked titles go to my Tumblr tag of said fic; please check the parentheses for ff.net & AO3 links!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inuyasha: 17

Oneshots & Collections:

Two Worlds and Memories, my VERY FIRST fanfiction!

Two Souls, One Heart, an InuKag reunion oneshot (ff.net; AO3)

Tied Together, an InuKag ficlet and oneshot collection (ff.net; AO3)

Bonds Across Time, an archive of 76 oneshots and ficlets (ff.net; AO3)

- Inuvember 2018 (7)

- Inuvember 2017 (24)

- Alphabet Drabbles (26)

- Previously Tumblr-only requests (5)

- Headcanon lists (8)

- "Winter Gifts"

- "Two Worlds and Memories", my VERY FIRST fanfiction!

Color My World, an InuKag soulmate AU (ff.net; AO3)

Fantasia, an Inuyasha fairy!AU collection (ff.net; AO3)

Multi-Chaptered Stories (aka WIPs):

An Unexpected Encounter, an InuKag modern/delinquent AU (ff.net; AO3)

Inuyasha: Prince of Thieves, an InuKag Robin Hood AU (ff.net; AO3)

Shards of the Sea, an InuKag Pirate AU (ff.net; AO3)

Smut (all InuKag):

Inuyasha's Craving, a post-canon oneshot (ff.net; AO3)*

Claiming What is Mine, a post-canon oneshot (ff.net; AO3)*

The Lady and the Rogue, a historical AU three-shot (ff.net; AO3)

Demonic Lust, a supernatural AU oneshot (ff.net; AO3)

A Little Risqué, a college AU oneshot (ff.net; AO3)

Passions Unleashed, a modern AU oneshot (ff.net; AO3)

Love and War, a college/childhood friends AU oneshot (ff.net; AO3)

Shameless, a college AU two-shot (ff.net; AO3)

Sinful Symphonies, a neighbors AU oneshot (ff.net; AO3)

(*: keep in mind, these were written in 2018, before Yashahime, so that is not accounted for!)

~~~

Harry Potter: 9

Moments of Harmony, a Harmony ficlet/oneshot collection (ff.net; AO3)

The Magic Kingdom, a Harmony post-canon oneshot (ff.net; AO3)

The Perfect Brew, a Harmony tea shop AU oneshot (ff.net; AO3)

Silent Ecstasies, a Harmony post-canon smut (ff.net; AO3)

Loony Love, a Ron/Luna 6th year canon divergence oneshot (ff.net; AO3)

Lust in the Woods, a Scabior/Hermione trash smut oneshot (ff.net; AO3)

Consume Me, a Drapple trash ficlet (ff.net; AO3)

House-Elf Aftercare, a Dobby/Winky fluffyy ficlet (ff.net; AO3)

~~~

Percy Jackson: 3

Aphrodite's High-Class Entertainment, a Percabeth smut oneshot (ff.net; AO3)

Piper's Reward, a Piper/Jason smut (ff.net; AO3)

Calypso's Musings (under construction)

How to Surprise a Daughter of Athena, a Percabeth fluffy ficlet (ff.net; AO3)

~~~

Red River: 3

His Queen, a Rusafa-centric ficlet (ff.net; AO3)

Her Queen, a Hadi-centric ficlet

beloved, you are mine (at last), a Yuri/Kail smut

~~~

Vampire Knight: 3

His Sanctuary, a Zero-centric oneshot, with background Zeki feels (ff.net; AO3)

My Heart Torn Asunder

Blood & Thorns

~~~

Sailor Moon: 2

Eden, a Serenity/Endymion & Usagi/Mamoru smutty oneshot (ff.net; AO3)

A Much-Needed Conversation

~~~

Alice in Wonderland: 1

Muchness and Impossible Things

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Alice in the Country of Hearts: 1

Beyond the Dream

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The Ancient Magus Bride: 1

Mortal Love, a short fic about the Leannan Sidhe's feelings for Joel (ff.net; AO3)

~~~

FAKE: 1

Morning Pleasures, a Dee/Ryo smut (ff.net; AO3)

~~~

Hetalia: 1

To Blow or To Be Blown, a crack chat-room fic featuring the majority of Hetalia's nations (AO3 only; collab with @risingfire17-the-weeb-trash!!!)

~~~

Lord of the Rings: 1

Rosie Cotton's Story, a three-shot fluffy fic (ff.net; AO3)

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Shugo Chara!: 1

Of Kisses and Treasures

~~~

Snow White with the Red Hair: 1

An Afternoon of Tea and Roses

~~~

Tinker Bell: 1

Sun and Moon, a Milarion romance fic (ff.net; AO3)

~~~

Completed Deleted (for now):

Yu Yu Hakusho:

Marry Me, Keiko! (under construction)

Dirty Little Secret (under construction)

~~~

Disney:

Alphabet Soup (under construction)

#Starling ramblings #Starling writings #master list #Inuyasha #InuKag #Harry Potter #Harmony #Percy Jackson #Percabeth #Disney #Tinker Bell #Sailor Moon #Usagi and Mamoru #Vampire Knight #Zeki #StarlingChild4 #20 notes

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inkstainedhandsandcoffee · 3 years

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My Personal Predictions For Radiant Volume 15

1. Marshal Alto Bellarmin will die:

Volume 14 ends on one hell of a cliff hanger with the parade being hijacked by Domitors and Dragunov, Shoan, and Alcille being left to defend both the Marshal of the Inquisition and the King of Bome.

With Bellarmin’s mental capabilities a husk of what they used to be, and Ullmina out to get rid of him and Bome’s king via leaving them to the wolves, it seems the only way Bellarmin can push the story forward is through his death; pushing a deeper divide between the Inquisition and Bome, giving General Torque more free space to push his agenda, and to motivate King Herkles to tell their shared story. (Let’s face it; if Bellarmin can’t even tell the difference between a promotion and a birthday, I don’t think he’d be up to the task of shedding light on the Inquisition’s past like Herkles could.)

2. Diabal’s liberated in more ways than one.

Diabal is all but on a silver platter for liberation; with his convenient placement within the parade and Seth’s newfound ability to stealth himself and potentially others in the Sidh, all he needs is one little nudge from Seth to not only escape his prison but finally stop Piodon from tailing him once and for all.

All we can do after volume 15 is hope it stays that way.

3. Verone will have a crisis in faith.

They say that the best way to change a bigot’s mindset is for them to spend time with the source of their prejudice so they can see them as they truly are. And what time could be more ideal for Verone to learn this lesson than the next volume?

The attack on the parade is ideal for Doc to not only reveal his status as an infected for all the Inquisition to see, but show off his newfound willingness to fight to defend his friends. And after spending the entire day interacting with Doc, not as the enemy shown in propaganda, but as a person and a friend, I have no doubt this will lead to some value shock for Verone.

I also believe that Ullmina’s actions will only add fuel to the fire with the woman’s increasingly immora behavior in the name of the Inquisition.

This is not to say that his prejudice will disappear all in one volume, (that would be way too rushed!) but it will plant the seed towards dismantling his internalized prejudice.

4. Ullmina is on her way to a mental break down.

Ullmina has never been....stable. Killing multiple comrades for the slightest annoyances, pervertedly obssessing over the dark arts to the point of viewing Seth like a drug she needs a fix of, and her latest stunt of throwing her supposed comrades to the wolves in exchange for a little more leg room for the Inquisition......Honestly at this point the woman might as well get a big light up sign over her head labeled ‘DANGER’.

It’s only downhill from here and she’s taking Verone’s faith in the Inquisition, Dragunov’s hand, and likely plenty of lives with her.

A little something I’d like to point out before we continue:

Remember this moment when Ullmina seemingly lost her shit over Seth again and broke Dragunov’s hand in the process? Yeah, I don’t think this was just an impulsive heat of the moment thing.

If you pay attention, you’ll notice that she broke the hand Dragunov uses to pull back his bow string. She broke his hand specifically so he couldn’t use his bow and fight properly against the Domitors. Everything she’s done in the last volume was 100% premeditated.

5. The parade attack was either anticipated or an inside job.

Now here’s a theory for the whole Bome Arc:

It’s pretty obvious why the Inquisition would want Bellarmin, Herkles, and Dragunov gone. Bellarmin is in no state to lead himself let alone a milita, Herkles has a firm grip on Bome and the Inquisition’s funding; he’s already fed up with the Inquisition so it’ll only take one wrong slight against Herkles to set the Inquisition back financially and politically, and the only thing about Dragunov that hasn’t flipped from the Inquisition’s image of an ideal soldier is his desire to protect the innocent and even that’s causing them trouble.

The question is: how would the Inquisition randomly get such an ideal opportunity to get rid of all three in one swoop without ever dirtying their hands? Answer: it wasn’t random, not by a long shot.

Ullmina broke the hand Dragunov needed to defend himself, she assigned him to the Royal Convoy, she cast the Convoy as far from the rest of the parade as possible; basically she served them up on a silver platter. Why would she do any of this unless she knew the Domitors would attack the night of the parade?

But wait, there’s more: The whole point of the war against Cyfandir was to paint the sorcerer’s in a bad light, right? The Barons said it, Santori said it, Mordred confirmed it, hell, they let thousands of their own men die in the first wave of attack. Outside of giving Ullmina ammunition for her Miracle, how much you do you want to bet the Inquisition used the death toll to justify their hatred of sorcerers? How much do you want to bet those dead soldiers had families from all over Pharenos who are going to be told their loved ones were killed by the ‘vicious sorcerers’?

What if the attack on the parade is no different? What if Torque gathered all the Generals across Pharenos just so they could witness this attack right before their meeting so he could soften them up before suggesting something drastic like the enslavement of the infected or even his promotion to Marshal?

#radiant #radiant manga #manga #anime #tony valente #radiant dragunov #radiant diabal #radiant predictions #radiant ullmina #radiant general torque #radiant the inquistion

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aboleth-eye · 4 years

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Hey friends! I’ve been in need of a new homebrew project lately--been fighting creative burnout as best I can. Therefore, I decided to start homebrewing new monsters for D&D 3.5 and sharing them in the following Google Doc!

It’s still pretty sparse because I’ve never worked on monsters before and am still new. Nonetheless, I hope you guys enjoy what I have made!

AND I am taking monster requests!!! If there’s a monster idea YOU would like to see brought to life send it through asks or by joining the Aboleth-Eye Discord here!

Here’s a taste of what’s in the Bestiary:

The Auxolotl -- an underground salamander-aberration whose tails turn metal to gold.

The Bean Sidhe -- the spectral wailing fey/outsiders of Celtic/Irish mythology, remade into a nymph-like creature rather than a template

The Roseamar -- a sentient plant species who viciously patrol forests with thorny whips, all in service to a powerful queen (original credit to @5theditionhomebrewing‘s 5e homebrew)

Virgavis -- the ominous antlered bird of vengeance

Wishing y’all lots of health and love! Send in your requests, I await them eagerly!

#d&d homebrew #my homebrew #homebrew monsters #tabletop games #aboleth eye #tabletop resources #tabletop inspiration

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pinetreewitch · 6 years

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Really Big Witchy Masterpost

This is everything I have in my google docs pertaining to witchcraft, except my own stuff because I’m too lazy to also do that so here are just some links. I don’t know how organized it is or if some of the links contain fake information (as I usually just save them so I can read them at some point in my life.) Let me know if you find anything problematic or unhelpful, or if you just have suggestions. I’ll probably continuously update this. Have fun!

Astral Projection/Lucid Dreaming magick-

Astral projection Warnings

Planes of Existence

Astronomy/Astrology-

Spells and Moon Phases

Quick Lunar phases and Correspondences

Star Magic

Planetary Rulers

Solar Magic

Cosmic Witchcraft

When to do stuff

Celestial Warding

Simple planetary magic

How to write cosmic spells

Celestial music

Astrology Starter Pack

Astrology, the basics

Planetary botanical blends

Candles, Colours -

Candle colours and meanings (MASTERPOST)

More candle colors

Psychology of Colours

Planets and Colours

Candle Flame Meanings

Crystals-

Cleansing crystals MASTERPOST

Mineral and Crystal safety and care MASTERPOST

Crystals for the green witch

Selenite

Crystal Colour Meanings

Raw Quartz

Different crystal shapes

Cleansing crystals

List of crystals and how to NOT charge them

Astrology crystals idk

Crystals for Dreaming

Divination-

Scrying Methods

Fire Scrying Basics

Hydromancy- (1) (2)

Sea Shell Divination

Runes-

Anglo Saxon runes

Fun ways to divine

Stone casting

Dreamwork-

Dreamwork Correspondents Masterpost

Crystals for Dreaming

Earth Magic-

Earth Magic MASTER

Crystals for the green witch

Using dirt and soil

Energy work-

Sensing energy

Elemental attunement

Charging

Seeing auras

More Auras

Energy work

Energy for beginners - (pt1) (pt2)

“Sinking” (grounding)

Empaths in Crowds

Grounding Visualizations

Energy work master post

Meditation stuff

Empaths

If u cant meditate

Pendulums

Meditation and hypnosis

Warding

Glamours

Faeries-

Faeries

List of fae MASTERPOST

Tuatha de Danann

Faefolk lesson

Faerie Magick

Faerie tradition

Lore

Dryads and other Faery lore

Communication

Seeing

Contact

Offerings

Characteristics

Fae meals

Fae

Faerie Garden

Leanan Sidhe

Offerings to the fae

Grimoire stuff-

Pretty grimoire

Another pretty grimoire

Grimoire ideas

History and random info-

Types of witches (history and other stuff)

The elements?

Witches ladder

Crossroads

Poludnica

Leanan Sidhe

Witch of Endor

Slavic/Russian Pagan Resources

Pretty Latin words relating to the night

Palo Mayombe

Resource blogs

Nocturnal

LAWS OF MAGICK

MORE Laws of magick

Hoodoo and Palo Mayombe

Prayers for modern deities

Unworshipped gods

What is secular witchcraft lmao

Bees in folklore

Persephone (Tumblr post)

Witchcraft in Winter

Jinxes, Hexes, Curses-

What to do after a big curse

Reverse a curse

Sea witch curse

Remove a Curse

Morality?

Alternatives

Kitchen witchcraft-

Basic Ideas

Moon Cakes

Magical Correspondents

Practical and ritual correlations between cooking and the craft

Music-

Majour Scale Correspondences

Minor Scale Correspondences

Music Witchcraft MASTERPOST

Celestial music

Winter solstice music

Paranormal-

Precautions

Lots of tips

Safety

Communing with the dead

Introduction

Spirit Work Basics

Spirits of Place

Automatic Writing

Sensing and recognizing

Necromancy

Plants and Herbs-

Poisonous plants

Rosemary

Dandelion

Blackberry

8 forms of potions

Mistletoe

Herb Growers Cheat Sheet

9 Healing Herbs

Planetary Botanical Herbs

Flower Associations

Common Substitutions In Witchcraft - Herbs and Oils

Herb MASTERPOST

Herbal uses in tea

Bay Leaf

Herbs and stuff used in weather magic

Herbs in Sleep magic

A-Z incense list

Plant tips

More plants and uses and shit

More sleepy herbs

Smoke cleansing with wood

Protection and Warding-

A Crash Course in Warding

shielding master post

Protection sachet

4 shells protection spell

Witches ward

Protection chants

Self Defense MASTERPOST

Aggressive protection jar

Celestial warding

Protection techniques

Malignant spirits, be gone

Warding Meditation

Mistakes in Warding i

Mistakes in Warding ii

Quick protection ward

A long list of ways to spiritually protect yourself

Ultimate protection magic masterpost i

Sachets-

Protection sachet

Sea craft-

Working with the tides

4 shells protection spells

Sea Witchcraft MASTERPOST

Scapegoat (returns to sender idk)

Tips

Landlocked sea witch salt

Calming Gif

Sea witch curse

Charging sea glass

Sea witch stuff

Sea witches bottle

A sea witch is well protected

Sea herbs and plants

Ocean Water

Minerals for Sea Witches

Sea Glass

Sea Shell Divination

“Sinking” (grounding)

Sea Herbs and Plants

Different Waters

More magical water

Sigils and symbols-

Serpent sigil

Sigil MASTERPOST

Some symbols

Alchemical Symbols

Malignant spirits, be gone

Spells-

Writing spells

Spell writing

Knot magic

More Knot Magic

Witches ladder

Witches ward

Cosmetics and Glamour

Glamours

Why wasn’t it successful

Wanna make time seem faster?

Beginner bos

50 simple charms

Sweet ass money spell

To remember more dreams

How to enchant an item

How to make a witches ladder

Sensory Bottle Thing

“Hail the Glow Cloud” a nightvale spell to draw surreal experiences to your area

Casting Glamors

Memory Spell

To Make Someone Forget a Secret

Banishing Nightmares

Spell to “calm the waves” (ease tension between relationships)

Actions

Disposing of Spell Remnants

Time of Day for spells

Alleviate self-hatred

Motivation star jar

Simplicity

Frost Salts

To find something lost - knot magic Sleep remedies

SLeep and dream pillows

Luck and money powder

Sigil for anxiety/panic attacks

Motivation

Spell sheet thing

A touch, a tempest

Chronically Ill Witchcraft

Storm craft-

Knots to bind the wind

More binding

Weather MASTER

Herbs and stuff used in weather magic

More weather stuff

Weather stones and other things

Predicting the sky

Whistling up wind and rain

History of the art of storm calling

Weather magic and folklore

Weather witching

Resources for storm and weather magic

Tempestarii (wiki article)

Traditional storm raising methods

Rainwater

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 years

Note

How bout Anti finds a cat aka the reader, with their paw caught in a small trap meant for weasels and such and sets them free. The reader follows him home and, having a soft spot for cat's, he lets them. That night while he's sleeping he has an odd dream about the reader and when he wakes up he has cat features. Turns out the reader is actually a Cait Sidhe and as thanks for helping them, they used their magic to make him half Cait Sidhe.

Aww sure! That’s a cute idea!! I’m falling in love with Cait Sidhes already (oops this turned out longer than I thought XD)

“Oh? What do we have here?” Anti mused as he walked towards the sound of distressed mewls. It led him into an alleyway where he then saw some kind of large, black cat.

It was almost the size of a large dog, which made him gawk for a moment, although upon closer examination, he became more worried about why it was in so much pain:

Because its paw was caught in a weasel trap, and it was trying to wriggle it out, only to stop and growl in pain. The demon could see the wood and metal start to become stained with blood the more the feline struggled.

No matter how cruel or vile he was, he loved cats and could never turn his back on one that clearly needs help.

“Hey.”

Upon hearing his voice, the cat glanced over, its eyes widening when it saw him crouch down in front of it. He reached a hand out, but it hissed and flattened its ears.

Anti frowned. “I’m not gonna hurtcha. Ya wanna get that outta that thing, don’t ya?”

The cat blinked slowly, glancing back at its ensnared paw, before looking at him once more and nodding.

“Good kitty,” he chuckled, “now hold still.” He reached over and pried opened the trap up with his bare hands, setting the cat free. Then he tossed the trap into a nearby trash bin. “There. Now we don’t have to worry about that anym-”

Feeling something rubbing against his leg, Anti glanced down to see the cat meowing happily and purring at him. The demon sighed and smiled. “Heh, you’re welcome.” He patted its head. “Ya must’ve hit a growth spurt didn’t ya? Well..I got places to be so…take care of yourself, cat.”

As he turned and walked away, though, it wasn’t long before he noticed it was following him down the sidewalk. He quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? Ya wanna come home with me?”

The cat nodded and meowed once more, as though to say “yes”.

“….alright then. Just..don’t let the others see ya ‘cause they’re allergic to cats.”

It nodded in understanding, before eagerly following Anti all the way home. Although he noticed it had a hard time keeping up because of its injured paw. So he sighed and scooped it up into his arms.

”Holy shit you’re heavy,” he grunted, before he decided to glitch back into his room just to save time. “Whew..”

Then he plopped the cat onto his bed. “Alright..I’ll be right back with some stuff to fix yer paw. Get cozy but stay outta sight, okay?”

It simply nodded in understanding, laying down and allowing its paws to dangle over the edge of the bed as it watched Anti glitch away.……

“Doc. I need some bandages.”

“Anti..” Henrik sighed as he looked up from his paperwork to see Anti standing in front of his desk. “Didn’t you just change-?”

Suddenly a knife slammed down, impaling the wooden surface and causing him to shriek.

“͡D̨o͞ń'͏t m͞ak͠e ͢me͠ ask ̵yo͝u̸ ̕a͜ǵain o͏r̕ I͜'͘ll ̷b͡le̴ed a͠l̨l͢ ̨o̵ve̢r͞ y͡o͜u͟r͠ ̛pre̛c͝i̡ous͟ ̸p͜aper̡s.“͝“͏ Anti spat, his eyes flickering to black as he stared down the doctor.

“..a-alright alright..Jesus..take zhe whole fuckin’ roll if you vant.” Henrik grunted as he tossed a roll of bandages to the demon, who caught it and smirked, his eyes reverting back to blue.

“Thanks, doc~” And with that he glitched away.

“At least he’s polite enough to zhank me….” The doctor shook his head.…….

When you saw the demon who rescued you return, he wasted no time in wrapping up your injured paw. You simply thanked him with another meow and a lick on the cheek.

Soon enough you got to know his name: Anti.

For the rest of the day he stayed in the room with you, only leaving to bring food for you and himself.

Least to say, you were eternally grateful that he had helped you, despite the fact that he did look and act a little…crazy. But he seemed to have a soft spot for cats, so that was a plus.

It wasn’t until later on, though, that you found out a way to repay your debt to him.……

Late that night, you were curled up on the floor while Anti slept in his bed. Although at some point you could hear small whimpers come from his form, so you glanced up to see his tossing and turning a little, indicating that he was having a nightmare.

But, as a Cait Sidhe, you had a special type of magic that could alter the dreams of an individual. Being a Cait Sidhe that was born from a more powerful one, however, gifted you with another unique ability, although first you wanted to comfort the demon.

So you hopped onto his bed, seeing him laying on his stomach and keeping a tight grip on his pillow. Before he could move again you leaned forward and touched his forehead with your nose, your whiskers glowing as your magic did its thing.

After a few moments you moved away and saw him fully relax, his expression becoming peaceful.

You smiled gently and curled up beside him, although you were surprised when you felt him reach over and pet your fur.

Soon enough he stopped and drifted back into dreamland, and you did, too, but not before you decided to use your other “unique” ability on him as another gift of thanks.…….

Anti woke up the next day, yawning and rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Man..what kinda dream did I have last night..?” He then glanced over and saw you curled up beside him, still sound asleep.

It was then he remembered the events of yesterday and smiled, gently rubbing your head. “Oh right..I saved y….”

But he trailed off when he noticed that, instead of fingernails, he had..claws?

“What the..?” Glancing down, he gasped as he saw that he had a black tail, too. “Wait..don’t even tell me..” Then he put his hands on his head, and, sure enough, he could feel two fuzzy cat ears. He gave them a tug, and realized that they were real.

“Oh what the fuck? What the actual FUCK?! Marvin you’re gonna be a dead son of a bi-!!!”

“Easy now..it was me. Don’t freak out.”

Anti blinked in confusion, looking around for the source of the voice, although it was echoing inside of his head. “Who said that?”

“Take a look beside you.”

He did and he saw that you were gazing up at him, awake.

“Y-You did……wait…how am I able to hear ya now?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“Because I made you half-Cait Sidhe,” you explained, standing up on all fours and arching your back to stretch. Then you settled back down and tucked your paws underneath you. “I suppose it’s only fair that I tell you that… I’m a Cait Sidhe..we’re witches that can turn into cats at will..although a few of my kind are actual fairies.”

Anti just stared at you, dumbfounded.

“I…saw that you had a nightmare last night, and with my magic I was able to grant you a more..blissful dream.”

“…y-you were in it,” he mumbled, “tellin’ me that yer name was [y/n] and that ye were a Cait..whatever it is. And that ya couldn’t turn human again ‘cause you’ve transformed nine times or somethin’”

“Everything I said in your dream is true,” you reassured him. “I’m permanently stuck as a cat but…I’m perfectly fine in this form. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Gotcha. So..why did ya turn me into…half of a Cait Sidhe?” He asked, looking down and feeling his soft tail.

“As thanks for rescuing me yesterday,” you simply stated. “Normally people are scared of us because of one, our size, and two, some folks are afraid we’re out for their souls. But…I didn’t sense any soul in you, instead I sensed…your kind heart.”

Anti’s breath hitched slightly at those last two words. He was never one to think that he was ever “kind” nor that he had a “heart”.

“Are…you okay?”

“Y-Yeah..” The demon sniffled a bit, rubbing his eyes as they started to burn and his vision grew blurry. “Just..I-I’m..not exactly the nicest person you’ll ever meet, but-”

“You were nice enough to free me and to let me live with you.” You stood up and nuzzled his cheek, licking away a tear that fell down. “I sense that there’s good inside of you….and that you’re also quite lonesome. I want to stay with you so you won’t feel that way anymore, Anti. All of this…is repayment for your kindness.”

With another sniffle, he moved closer and wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your soft fur. “Th-Thank ya, [y/n]…I-I swear I’ll take good care of ya. Just..don’t leave me..” He whispered, almost pleadingly.

After standing there in shock for a few moments, you smiled and rubbed the side of your head against his, purring ever so loudly. “I promise I won’t, Anti. I promise.”

#clanask #anonymous #antisepticeye x reader #cait sidhe #cat sidhe #readerinsert

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dorksndisasters · 3 years

Text

Session 18; The Notes

[[<PREV]] | [[NEXT>]]

knew there was something I forgot to do yesterday

I was so caught up in like... editing other docs that I ignored the reminder when it went off and then I just crashed

but here we are. And they’re getting distracted, once again. You’d think I’d learn not to put in extraneous detail? but? I like a fully populated world and other people doing things in the background?

more fool me

###

Head back to Micardia’s place

Lie about their day & what’s happened to Marask, when she asks

She’s v not pleased about the concept of Ophi leaving or them going to see Ilromi

Alaric stays awake for a bit in his room, trying to make the mirror work, and succeeds, marginally. Hears water dripping in a cave and footsteps echoing in the distance

The rest of the night passes ~peacefully~

Micardia, over breakfast, attempts to guilt trip Ophi into staying bc it’s been so gosh darned long etc

[Alaric is trying not to flirt with her. Nakai is eating all the bacon and who cares for cutlery/plates/manners]

Almost comes to an argument, but Micardia seems not to want to do That in front of everyone else.

[The wyrm, meanwhile, has come back to its senses and panic-run into the sea to get away from all the people]

Plan out the route to Ilromi’s tower, more or less straight through.

First day goes fine. That night, Ophi attempts to set a spell about the campsite and fails. Both she and Alaric notice the campfire of hunters in the distance on their watches

DAY 2

Check the campsite, turn up nothing but tracks and the remains of a meal

Set off on their route, get lost near Porthca woods

Head towards the lodge, which while clearly abandoned by its original owners, is still somewhat well cared for. Completely empty, apart from the traps in the kitchen and some muddy pawprints that haven’t been entirely wiped away.

Decide to follow the pawprints into the increasingly dark & tangled wild woods.

Notice the traps concealed along the way, manage to avoid them.

Meet a pupper, whomst Skadi and Ophi at least instantly fawn over. Also an elf named Craydark, who encourages them to make a fuss of the dog. Dog itself is giving him evils

Pupper is a werecreature known as Rex. They’ve hired a mercenary (Groash) and are looking for Rex’s old friend

The party decide to help bc nothing like diverting from the main quest all the dang time am I right

Ophi notices the spell on these part of the woods (a strong don’t notice/don’t tell all tangled up in each other) and just. She just decides to break part of it.

The woods now seem far bigger and stretch out before them.

Craydark and Rex are pleased to have the help. Craydark seems curious, so he ‘n’ Skadi ‘n’ Ophi head off at the end of a rope to investigate.

There’s a barrier of mist, just beyond the end of the rope, that seems like it should be thin and easy to see through, but there’s nothing beyond it.

Ophi throws a strip of her salted beef at it, and it sort of sticks then slides down like there’s a wall there.

They head back to the others

The whole party goes to investigate? Rex hangs back

Nakai straight up sticks his arm through the mist and finds a little bit of resistance before he gets through. Arm comes back covered in water droplets and slightly cold.

They head through!

Now there is only Mist, in every direction.

As they stand there, the Bran Rhi comes upon them; child of 7/8, black skin, raven black hair, cloak of raven feathers that seems to shift sizes (sometimes only waist length, sometimes brushing the floor) and asks if they’re here to be her friends. Says that tear is what her brother is looking for

Her brother, the Bran Sidhe

#TL;DR notes #homebrew #dnd

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wizardsgirl25 · 4 years

Text

Cryptid Story Ideas?

So, I'm getting back into writing original works instead of just fanfiction, because I've realized that for the last like 3 to 5 years I've only been writing OC-insert/centric docs anyways and I want to work on creating my own world again. As a result, I've been plotting out a series of short/medium-length "Bad Ending" stories based around cryptid and folklore. I've already got a couple of down stories in slowly working on based around the Sidhe/Fae and the Black Dog myth, and then a couple of half-thought ideas for a Skin Walker and a Thunderbird. But, does anyone have any suggestions? I'd especially like to see suggestions on rarely seen/known cryptids and creatures, and nationality doesn't matter!

I will be posting links to the stories once they're up as well, just so you know, and anyone who gives suggestions will be mentioned/gifted the fics on AO3! All help accepted! No creepypasta creatures though... Well, maybe the more creatures ones, like Sirenhead or something, but otherwise no!

So, any ideas?

#story ideas #story help #suggestions welcome #send suggestions #cryptids #myths #folklore

0 notes

ask-the-phan-site · 5 years

Text

Phan Cam: In just a Pynch

>The Night Club of Greed (Madeline Pynch’s Palace). We came to further secure a route to Madeline Pynch’s Treasure. Skull wasn’t joining us, he’s at Doc Greene’s lab to continue the research to change him back. Luckily, Cody and Frankie volunteered to come with us. Frankie developed some technology to allow Cody to simulate Skull’s Electricity. Frankie said she’ll handle the Physical attacks.

>We just entered what the map said was the last floor. The floor where the Treasure is suppose to be. We hid behind a couch to overhear the two Shadow guards talking.

Shadow 1: How about this party? Kind of wish we could join.

Shadow 2: Yeah, but you heard the boss. Make sure those thieves don’t try to get in here. Not that it wouldn’t matter. Without the password, they can’t get in.

Password?

We’re going to have to get closer if we want to find out what it is.

That’s going to be hard. We might have to do some fighting.

What? I’m... I’m sorry. I can’t really take you seriously in that outfit. Isn’t that your Rescue Boy costume? It makes you look younger.

Yeah, Chief Burns told me the story.

Dad worked out the bugs... Just be careful how much you use it.

Cody: Believe me, I’ve learned that lesson.

Let’s hope you did.

>We get closer to listen.

Shadow 1: By the way, what’s the password again?

Shadow 2: Go ask the boss. Only she knows it. But it does have a hint.

Shadow 1: Yeah. That’s about that thing that’s worth more than money to the boss.

Shadow 2: Pretty much.

Worth more than money to Pynch?

What could be more valuable to Madeline Pynch than money?

Joker: Maybe it could be...

Hey, I found a penny!

Really!? I wanna see!?

Will you two be quiet? They’ll hear us.

Dice (Jared): Oh wait, it’s just a button.

>Dice throws the the button... At one of the Shadows. They notice us straight away.

Shadow 1: Ow! Hey, it’s those thieves!

Fuuka’s voice: They’ve spotted you! Get ready to fight!

Shadow 2: You chumps got no business here! We’re gonna throw you out now!

Oracle: Persona!

>Necronomicon scans the two Shadows.

Oracle: Got it! They’re weak to Psychokinesis. Noir, they’re all yours!

Noir: I will do what I can. Persona!

>I change Personas.

Joker: Persona!

Crow: I shall help, too. Persona!

Cody: We may not have Personas, but me and Frankie are willing to fight.

Frankie: That’s right. We can do it!

Oracle: Alright. Let’s do this.

Fuuka’s voice: I’ll be sure to back you up.

>Jatayu 1 uses Garula on me. Luckily, Leanan Sidhe helped me resist. Jatayu uses Flash Bomb. Also luckily, no one became Dizzy. Milady uses Mapsio. Both Jatayus were knocked down.

Noir: Time to punish them!

>After the attack, the two Jatayus were still up. Leanan Sidhe uses Mapsi. Only one of Jatayus was down. Leanan Sidhe uses Piso on the remaining Jatayu. It knocks him down.

Joker: Now’s the time to strike!

>After the attack, the two Jatayus were still up. Robin Hood uses Megidola. Cody simulates Zionga on Jatayu 1. It became Shocked. Jatayu 1 can’t move due to the Shock. Jatayu uses Masukukaja. Milady uses One-shot Kill on the Shocked Jatayu. It was a technical hit due to the Shock. Earlier, I equipped Leanan Sidhe with the Marakukaja Skill Card and she uses Marakukaja. Robin Hood uses Debilitate on the Unshocked Jatayu. Frankie simulates Assault Dive. The Shocked Jatayu recovers and uses Flash Bomb. Crow becomes Dizzy. Jatayu 2 also uses Flash Bomb. Cody and Frankie become Dizzy. Milady uses Amrita Shower to cure Crow, Cody, and Frankie. Leanan Sidhe uses Psio on Jatayu 1. It knocks him down. I pass the baton to Noir and Milady uses Psio on Jatayu 2. It also knocks him down.

Noir: Good choice. Let’s go!

>After the attack, the two Jatayus were still up, but now weaker. Robin Hood uses Kouga on Jatayu 1. Cody simulates Ziogna on Jatayu 1. Jatayu 1 uses Garula on Noir. Jatayu 2 uses Flash Bomb. Thankfully, no one became Dizzy. Milady uses Mpsiodyne. Jatayu 2 was knocked down, but Jatayu 1 dodged it with Dodge Psy. Milady uses Psiodyne on Jatayu 1. With that, he was gone. Leanan Sidhe uses Psio on the remaining Jatayu. Robin Hood uses Megaton Raid. With that, the remaining Jatayu was gone.

Fuuka’s voice: Well done, everyone!

Well done, everyone! You too, Cody kun, Frankie chan!

Cody: It wasn’t anything big.

Frankie: Yeah, we had a lot of fun.

Crow: Glad to hear it.

>We go to the door the two Shadows were guarding. On it is a control pad.

Oracle: I guess this is the only way to open it.

Queen: The Shadows said that the password is something that Pynch values more than money. What could that be?

Cody: I’d like to say her car. But that would be too obvious.

Queen: Maybe she likes gold. Than can worth even more than money.

Joker: Let’s find out.

>I enter the word “gold”.

Computer voice: Access denied.

Joker: That’s not it.

Frankie: Maybe platinum. That’s worth more than gold.

>I enter the word.

Computer voice: Access denied.

Oracle: Power? Control? World domination? Expensive clothes and technology? Makeup?

>I try all those phrases.

Computer voice: Access denied. This is your last chance to enter the correct password. If you enter one more wrong password, this vault will self-destruct.

Self-destruct!?

Crow: Then we really better really think this through. What could Madeline Pynch really value more than money? It hasn’t to be something you can’t buy.

Or someone.

Crow: Huh?

>I enter the real password. P-R-I-S-C-I-L-L-A.

Computer voice: Access granted. Welcome back, Mrs. Pynch.

Frankie: (surprised) Priscilla is the password!?

Cody: How did you figure that out?

Madeline Pynch maybe a villain, but she’s still a mother. And what parent doesn’t love their child more than money?

Frankie: I guess that’s true.

Cody: Same here.

>The door opened. We went in. Inside, it looked like the same kind of vault Kaneshiro had in his Palace. In the center is a glowing light.

Cody: Is that the Treasure you were talking about?

Mona: It will be once we deliver the calling card.

Frankie: I guess that makes sense.

Dice: At last, our debut as Phantom Thieves has arrived!

Slice: Can’t wait to get the party started.

Mona: You two sure are hyped up for this.

Dice: Since when are we not hyped for something like this?

Crow: Anyway, we’ve secured a route. Now all we have to do is send the calling card and the Treasure will show itself.

Joker: Right. Let’s head back for now.

>With that, we leave the Palace. We’ll be back after we send the calling card.

>Doc Green’s lab. We got back where found Team Science and Team Sorcery doing what they can to change Ryuji back to human form.

How are things going? Any progress?

Maybe a little. We know that there’s another consciousness existing inside of Ryuji’s mind.

I could have told you that!

But we’ve discovered something else as well.

We might be able to communicate with Overflow and tell him that he and Ryuji need to separate so he can live his own life.

How do you propose to do that?

Leave that to me. I can just project myself into his mind.

Talking to him, huh? I wonder if he’ll listen. From what Professor Paradox said, Overflow is just a savage mind.

More like... He’s scared.

That would make sense. He maybe a copy, but in a sense, his creation is like being born. If anything, instead of a savage beast, he’s just a baby. Poor kid.

Sometimes it takes one voice to reach out and touch someone’s heart. But if more than one joins, it can be moved.

So you’re saying, Stephan alone isn’t enough to convince Overflow to separate from Ryuji?

Seems that way, mate. But I think it would take more than just what Doc Strange has.

Doctor Strange: True. Normally, as the Sorcerer Supreme, I can take with me more people into the Astral Plain. However, this is a unique case. The Omnitrix badge is connected to his heart and his mind. And since the Omnitrix is more powerful than I, getting in could be rather difficult. That is where Team Science comes in.

We were talking and we found a way to enhance Doctor Strange’s Projection power. The Nightmare Imaging Device. All Ryuji has to do is go into sleep chamber and we go into the energy chamber. Then, Doc reverses the polarity so that we, or at least our consciousness, will enter his mind with Doctor Strange’s powers.

Are you sure that will work?

Conor: Chim-Chim already crunched all the numbers.

(squeak)

Headmistress Faragonda: And with our powers combined, it would prove more efficient.

That’s true. A spell is more effective when more than one castor is present... Especially if backed up by science.

Dr. Choi: That’s true.

I am so glad to see such a team come together. I think I shall this... The Outrageous Teamwork to Save Ryuji Sakamoto!

I don’t think so.

Yeah, that title is just tasteless.

Aquaman: (looking a little down) Just a thought.

Ryuji: Anyway, how are things on your end?

Ren: We’ve secured a route to the Treasure. We just have to send the calling card now.

Ryuji: Great, guess we’re off.

We?

Ryuji: I know I’m in no shape now, but I’m still a Phantom Thief. It’s my job.

>I think very hard on this... Then, I make my decision.

Alright. But stay close to us. And try not to hurt yourself.

Ryuji: Thanks, brother. I’ll be- UGH!

>Ryuji suddenly clings to his head.

Ryuji?: Me... No...

Ryuji!? ... Wait... Could that be...

Overflow: Me no hurt Ryuji... Me no hurt friends... Me hurt... Distorted heart...

Doctor Strange: Overflow? Is that you?

>Suddenly, something in Diego’s pocket glows. He reaches in and takes something out.

Diego: The Holy Grail? What?

>Then, Ryuji snaps back to reality.

Ryuji: (shocked) What the hell!? What happened!?

>We were all silent...

It’s... It’s nothing.

Anyway, let’s rest up. The sooner we’re prepared, the sooner we can send the calling card.

Ryuji: Right.

>We leave for the night. Constantine notices Diego still looking at the Holy Grail.

Constantine: Got something on your mind, bloke?

Diego: After it stopped glowing, this showed up.

>They checked something engraved at the bottom of the cup.

Diego: Twelve what?

Constantine: I don’t know... But I guess we’ll soon find out.

>The mystery deepens as the heist for Madeline Pynch’s heart comes to its grand finale.

#phantom thieves cam

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queenofallcorgis · 7 years

Text

The Course of True Love Never Did Run Smooth (Chapter One)

Summary: Although the Association of Supernatural Species (yes...A.S.S.) brought together all the various magical beings for conferences they didn’t much mingle. At least not until Phil met Dan. Pastel!Vampire!Phil and Punk!Fairy!Dan

Warnings: Violence, smut, noncon touching in later chapters.

Title is from A Midsummer’s Night Dream

The whole conference was just ridiculous.

Booths lined the hotel ballroom, clashing horribly with the gaudy carpet and wallpaper. Their bright colors and signs beckoned to the milling crowd and all Phil wanted to do was flee.

Wolfsbane Wearhouse!

Patricia’s Potions! An elixir to get her!

O-Neg Subscription! Five Percent Discount for Every Century!

The Association of Supernatural Species (yes, they actually used the acronym A.S.S.) had been around for centuries. Millennia of wars and violence between different supernatural sects had finally ended for the most part in an agreement.

They would work together to keep themselves from being noticed by the humans and to make life easier on all of them. The old tensions still lingered but there was an actual attempt to live peacefully.

That was how the annual conventions began. Every coven, group, pack and herd would send a few representatives as a show of good faith. There was a resigning of the peace treaty and then the marketplace and sessions would open.

Phil glanced through the brochure, mint colored nails tapping on the map. He knew he looked a little off among the gothically dressed (gaudy) vampires that were sent from their covens. Instead of the red costume jewelry and faux velvet capes he was dressed in sky blue trousers and a light pink jumper.

The blue streaked through his fringe completed the look along with the lacquered daisy pins along the starched white collar. He didn’t look particularly terrifying but hey, pastels had been popular in the 50’s.

“The mermaid table is over there,” a snotty girl sneered at him at the blood drive booth. She flipped her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder and rolled her overly made up eyes.

“Doll, I’m here to renew my coven’s subscription,” he flashed his fangs. “We’re the South London Coven, haven’t you heard of us?”

The girl paled slightly, obviously not having thought he was a potential customer. “Oh…I…”

“And I can smell the newness on you. You’re too young to be sassing your elders,” he took the clipboard from her hands. “I’m expecting a discount as well. Think of it as your payment from this little lesson in humility.”

She blushed so bright he could even see it behind her caked on white makeup and scribbled something onto the order form. The rest of the transaction was completed in silence although Phil did give her a sweet smile as he handed back over the clipboard and accepted the receipt with a friendly goodbye.

When he turned around he met the eye of a young man along the other side of the booths. The man was just as tall as him, a smug smile on his face highlighted by the snakebite piercings in his bottom lip. He also had a piercing through his eyebrow and one through his septum.

The look continued with threads of colors running through his hair, making his fringe (similar to Phil’s) look like a rainbow. A dark leather jacket covered a simple black t-shirt and he had on ripped black jeans and spiked doc martins. Delicate black tattoos curled up his neck and across his hands.

“Such sass,” he said as soon as Phil stepped away from the booth.

There wasn’t any tell tale signs of what the man was. He wasn’t a vampire or werewolf and the scent wasn’t obvious enough to Phil. The man did have a strange light to his caramel eyes, making them almost glow.

“People should respect their elders,” Phil quipped back and got a grin in response.

“Completely agree,” the man leaned towards him to take a look at his name tag. “Philip Lester, Vampire Coven of London.”

Phil cracked a smile and reached over to grab the man’s name tag, turning it around so he could read it. “Thank you, Daniel Howell, Fae Association of London. Fae?”

“Mmhmm,” Daniel nodded and shrugged slightly. “The technical term for a group of fairies is a frollick but we all agreed that it probably wouldn’t be the most respected.”

“Pardon me but you don’t look much like a fairy,” Phil noted and the other man grinned, letting out a laugh.

“Excuse me Vampire Barbie,” he teased. “We go by a lot of names. We’re the fae, the sidhe, the goodly folk, or the wee folk to start. Legends and tales kind of got us all mixed up. Plus, you don’t get to be the only one to break stereotypes.”

Something about the fae drew Phil in. “And what booths or talks are you joining?”

“I’m mainly here for the coupons and free shirts,” Daniel raised the plastic bags in his hands. “But also for the talk about magical herbology and star readings. Which is…starting now. So, Philip Lester, I find you interesting. Care to exchange numbers?”

“Why not? The whole point of these things is to network right?” Phil handed over his phone and got a laugh in return.

“A sliding keyboard? I haven’t seen these in forever!” Daniel grinned and tapped in his number. “Very retro.”

“Cold hands,” Phil wiggled his fingers. “I don’t have the electroconductivitiy in my skin that makes the iPhone work.”

The fae hummed and nodded, tapping in his number before handing it back. “Well, it was nice to meet you. I’ll see you around.”

With a slight hop to his step, Daniel turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd. A smile spread across Phil’s face and he looked down at his phone.

Dan Howell.

#phanfiction #phanfic #fairy!dan #vampire!phil #punk!dan #pastel!phil

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fountainpenguin · 7 years

Text

Once Act 2 of Origin of the Pixies is over, I can finally delete the Google Docs file for it. For kicks and giggles, here are some deleted scenes that have been sitting at the end of the Acts 1 and 2 document all this time-

H.P. talking biology with Mr. Thimble:

Four and a half centuries after that, just before I was to begin my real work as an employee in the family business of Wish Fixers rather than Ambrosine’s unpaid little tagalong, I returned to Spellementary School to seek something from Mr. Thimble that I had never wanted in the months following my nymphhood: His advice.

My timing was perfect, as it tended to be. I arrived as his latest batch of students was filtering out for recess. He crouched on the floor with a dustpan full of pottery chunks and crumpled flowers (someone, it seemed, had finally put that twisted orange and brown monstrosity on the bookshelf out of its misery).

"Someone broke your vase?" I asked as he stood.

He shrugged and started for the waste bin. "One of the will o' the wisps brushed it with her wing. It doesn't matter- they were just daisies." Then he glanced over at me for the first time. “Ah. Fergus Whimsifinado. You look more like your father every day.”

Mr. Thimble considered this. “If you want to say you’re a pixie, then I see no reason why you can’t. The early will o’ the wisps and brownies began in a similar way. Here. You remember this old collection of tablets, perhaps. I would suggest you find some blank ones and create a copy for pixies, containing information such as wing design, particular magical abilities, sexual tendencies, and aggressive behaviors that outsiders ought to be aware of.”

I stared at the heap of tablets with my stomach curling in and out of knots. I wanted to be called something, but I didn’t want it that badly. I thanked him for the tablets and even began my work, but I lacked the attention and drive for it. The project was shelved.

This scene was originally going to appear after the lunch conversation with Ambrosine in “Love Struck Out”. In this early draft of the story, H.P. wasn’t so bogged down by feelings of “not being a real fairy” and “my mutation makes me ugly”, and he was actually going to call himself a pixie from the get-go. He approached his old school teacher, requesting to fill out the tablets to get his species placed in the school textbooks. Because of course he can do that.

I felt like this concept took a LOT out of the story, though, which is one reason why the scene was tossed and I went back to the drawing board (other reason being, it disrupted Chapter 3′s flow). I did really want to make a joke about him hating paperwork in his youth, but after ditching this scene I never really had the chance.

Also, you may notice that the mention of the vase was moved to “The Art of Starting Fires” instead. I was pretty proud of how it was written, and designed the Wish Fixers scene around it (after tweaking the scene as necessary to fit Karowel’s personality, of course). Fun Fact: In Act 4, H.P. owns a vase that looks exactly like this one even though he called it ugly in his youth.

Academy Party:

Sparkle wiggled his brows. “Are you sure you don’t want a sip? It’s orange.”

I studied the drink, then brought it to my lips. “Maybe just one.”

It runs in the family, the sugar addiction. I was at the top of my game one moment, leaning back in my comfortable seat and surveying my kingdom with fingertips pressed together. Shortly thereafter, Polly was leading Sparkle and I down the hall by our ears, both of us with our words bumping together like raindrops. I find it necessary to state, however, that soda is no longer a weakness of mine and should not be expected to work against me again.

Although this snippet has some merit, I removed it from “School’s In - Not Much of a Musical” because I realized I didn’t want to timeskip the entire party (I played with the idea of having two parties at first). After this, I wrote the second “party” as something rather boring. H.P. was just playing snapjik with Sparkle and Polly in the basement somewhere. Brown walls and quiet people in the study area, yep. There was... no excitement whatsoever until Ambrosine showed up. It just seemed like the kind of place H.P. would hang out.

Then I remembered he’s canonically a rave-lover and grinned a wicked grin.

H.P. meets Pip

I jolted upright, wings flared. “What the- Ow!”

A blue and black shape hovered above me with a horrified stare etched across her entire face. “Of all the places to spill my hot spaghetti sauce, it had to be on a fairy in diapause.”

“What?” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. “I wasn’t… what?”

She bore no crown, and her bat-like wings were feathered along the edges. An anti-cherub, then. She stared at me, stiff, with a bowl of pasta in her hands.

I took a few steps, but swayed heavily and began to sag. “Take it slow, big fella,” she said, tailing me. “That’s it. Keep walking forward. Forward.”

“I know you’re trying to walk me off a cliff. This is where I live. I know this valley.” I rubbed my entire face with my palm. “Was I seriously in diapause? The last season I remember was the Winter of the Scarred Caribou. What year is it now?”

“Autumn of the Flightless Bird. That would be about…” She tipped her head. “Twenty thousand years, I think?”

I blinked several times. “You remember that?”

She coughed into her fist. “Years are kind of my thing. It’s in the job description. You learn to pick them up. Anywho, no one wants to hear about my boring life.”

“Hey, I’d be more grateful in your position. You would have been eaten by predators if I hadn’t waited around until some angels found you and decided to give you a proper burial.”

“They buried me alive?”

“It wasn’t their fault. You still had dust on you and you looked pretty dead.”

“And that was twenty-thousand years ago.”

“Yep.”

“You’ve been stalking me for twenty thousand years, and you’re only just now waking me up.”

“Yep.”

“Why are you like this?”

“I dunno? I come around this area every century or so to listen to that fluttery sound of your core deep underground, and I finally got curious and just decided to do it.”

I checked myself over through bleary eyes, but all my clothes were still in place, well-worn by the elements and damp with ice.

“Identify yourself, or I shoot you with a seven-day blindness hex.”

“Easy, easy!” she protested, flapping her wings.

“Who are you? Why are you here?”

These diapause ideas were scrapped because of the conflict with Baby, You’re a Rich Man, when H.P. tells Sanderson he met Pip about five hundred years before he was born. I used Mortikor to wake H.P. from diapause instead.

The first one was definitely supposed to show Pip’s quirkiness. In that version, H.P. fell into diapause in his little cave, and she snuck in to rob him. Hot spaghetti sauce is, evidently, warm enough to wake someone from diapause. The other three all take place outside in the snow.

H.P. trying to communicate with humans

“You want me to paint?” I tried to infer. I dipped my fingertips in the red powder, then stared at the wall. What to draw? I had never painted anything before, or if I had, it was when I was very young and the memories had been shuffled beneath millennia of more important work.

I looked at Tall, and then I knew exactly what to create. First, I drew two crude angels, to symbolize the concept of ‘more than one’. Then, more carefully, I drew a third figure floating over their heads, with wings spread. After setting my paints on the floor, I faced the pack again. Shiny had her head to the left, but no one really seemed to get it.

“Pack kills animal,” I said pointing to the picture that Tall had drawn. Moving my finger to the next, I pressed, “Pack gives food to the fairy and cares for them.” The third image, “Fairy lives happy life.”

They weren’t getting it. How were they not getting it?

Oh, well.

I stared around the cave. Then I took up the feathers that had been plucked from the meat, and tucked them into my hair. I took up a large bone like a wand. I brushed clumps of purple dust from my left shoulder down to my hand, and clenched my fingers before they could begin to wriggle back up.

One chance. One chance.

I threw my handful of dust to the floor and silently pleaded for them to shoot up white sparks (It was only a small amount of dust, after all). With a sound like a ping, they did. I leapt into the air as I flared my wings, and held.

I clung to my wand. They seemed to understand. They respected me like I was the greatest. I was a king.

“Okay. For my first order of business, I require an escort to Great Sidhe.” I pointed out the cave and started to leave it, but after a minute of hovering outside the entrance, I came back. “Escort? Why is no one moving?”

The first and third are okay, but I’m not fond of the second. Anyway, like the scenes with Pip, these take place in “The Wanderings of the First and Alone”. I timeskipped them all instead because they weren’t necessary for the chapter, and I was having trouble making them all flow together anyway.

Additionally, I wanted the first time H.P. is seen naming something to be when he names Sanderson (Hence why the story points out he never named his pet fish or the living cardboard boxes). I also played with the concept of H.P. sticking with this group of humans for decades, observing their mortality, but that idea was quickly discarded when I realized it would give him parental experience, and I wanted Sanderson to be the first child who truly looked after.

Social services are trash

The word- it was the wrong word. That word didn’t belong in conversation.

“Dead!” she exploded, visibly resisting the urge to sink her thumbs into my windpipe and strangle me. “The Fairy Elder’s orders! They’ll kill him to prevent the continuing spread of-”

I flashed for the door before she finished, tying the ribbons of China’s coat with all the wrong loops only to tear them apart and redo them correctly. I barreled through two streets, swerving around more than one magic carpet and knocking half a dozen Fairies to the cloudstones.

Originally, H.P. went out to lunch after dumping Sanderson on social services in “Grand Father”. However, he shouldn’t have friends at this time, so I couldn’t figure out how he ended up talking with this lady. Or how “I just illegally abandoned my son and I feel great” could come up in conversation.

In the final version, he goes to the post office instead, and finds out from the Keepers that Sanderson was on the chopping block. The final version works well because it’s a good way to remind the audience that the Refracted exist, and it shows that despite everything, H.P. feels guilty about dropping off Sanderson with little fanfare, and so brings him the scarf.

The draft version was a little too panicked and emotional considering that technically, Origin IS supposed to be written for the pixies and H.P. wouldn’t normally let something QUITE like that slip in. I mean, for the sake of storytelling, I haven’t been writing the way I imagine he truly would, but that’s why he has an editor whom he hates.

I’ve been waiting for the right time to bring the magic carpets up again, but I think I missed my chance, so that might just end up a Frayed Knots thing.

Anti-Sanderson meets Sherri

The door opened, and a slim figure headed across the grass for the showers with a bucket in one hand and rag in the other. A damsel. A cherub damsel. Anti-Sanderson looked at me. “Watch this.”

He went bouncing and sliding down the tree, ricocheting off a tangle of branches, and at the bottom ran over to the cherub. "Can I help you carry that, twizzlerbit?" he asked, and she let him with a smile.

The pair had nearly reached the showers when the cherub made the mistake of holding her eyelids shut, or perhaps darting her gaze away, and Anti-Sanderson lunged for her face. She screamed against his lips and slapped at him with her hands and snapping wings, but with his arms wrapped around her, even the yoo-doo doll struggled to tear him away. As the cherub scrambled off, we all dropped to our knees. We knelt there, hands behind our backs, glowering at one another, until finally Venus stormed in and grabbed the offender by the elbow.

"That's it. I have hit the roof with you. You can spend the next five hundred years in solitary confinement."

I REALLY like the phrasing of jumping down the tree, but had to toss it due to the scene change to the ballroom in “Snowflake”. Shame.

(By the way, Sanderson was mentally nine in “Bells and Whistles”, and is mentally eleven by this point in the story. Once he hits twelve, he’ll be mentally twelve for a looong time until his lines catch up with his mental age. After that, he’ll start aging with his line count. So I guess aging with lines is like a puberty thing? That makes sense to me. Let’s do that. Pair it with a wing moult and other features like an adam’s apple or something, yeah.)

H.P. meets Wanda

“Wanda Fairywinkle.”

“You’re the damsel who traveled back in time to kill the dinosaurs.”

She took the folds of an imaginary skirt and curtsied.

That’s it. That’s the scene. That’s as far as I got before I realized I would MUCH prefer to write “Rain Dance” instead, and I didn’t want to accidentally write myself into a corner.

This scene, and the next one, would take place during the war.

Chatting with Schnozmo

Robin leaned across the table. “They say some lunatic called Doubletake snuck a cú sith into the camp.”

I sipped my coffee. “That in itself was against the Fairy Elder’s orders, isn’t it? Poor sucker didn’t stand a chance, I suppose.”

“I dunno about that. Maybe.” He shrugged. “All I know is, people are sayin’ how Doubletake got himself sugar-drunk and killed Shiverwand. Just stabbed him right in the back, no warning or nothin’. His own bunkmate, while he was sleeping! Got the dust everywhere. How’s that for juicy?”

I rotated my mug between my fingers. “And the cú sith took him on the grounds of dishonorable killing?”

“Sure did! The mangy yellow thing snapped his soul up before you could steal a peach cobbler off a windowsill.” Robin slapped his knee and leaned back, both hands wrapped around the edge of the bench between his knees. “Wish I coulda seen it. Two words: Night patrol reeks. Anyway, they say Doubletake’s body’s new driver is a charming fellow. So, if you wondered.”

“Thank you.”

He flashed his jagged teeth. “Hey, that’s what the Hooded Robin’s here for.”

“And Doubletake in the cú sith’s body?”

“Got away into the trees. They’re trying to round him up. I dunno if they’ll try to get him back in his own body, though. I mean, he was a loopy fellow. A couple years in hot fur might cool him down.”

Mmhm. Originally, H.P. didn’t take Sparkle with him when he left the Academy at the end of “The Fallen Angel”. The rebellion in “A Grain of Truth” didn’t even exist. I’m still trying to decide WHAT H.P. and Schnozmo are going to talk about during this scene, or if the entire scene needs to be removed.

Additionally, the soul-swapping scene worked well for Chapter 6, because it drives home exactly what fairy dogs can do, and justifies H.P.’s reactions in “School’s In” and “Bells and Whistles” sooner rather than later.

Anyhow, those are the deleted scenes, and they’ll be deleted for real when I finish the Act 2 finale and discard this document!

#Origin of the Pixies #ridwriting #Deleted for reasons #I'm wasp dad trash #Original draft

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