#They started their life as a familiar as a normal housecat

[fidgetspringer-art]

Olath - Aberrant familiar

#art #illustration #artists on tumblr #digital art #digital drawing #dnd #dungeons and dragons #homebrew #my art #my ocs #Setting: Heim #Olath #I love this creature actually #This is Tethry's very fucked up familiar Olath (They/it) #They started their life as a familiar as a normal housecat #some lore fuckery later and they end up like this #I have a bunch of lore written for them but i'm not gonna dump it all here #They behave and function like any other familiar #they're just.... creepy #they don't speak or make facial expressions #they only use body language and the caster/familiar bond to communicate #they come up to about Tethry's hip at the shoulders so it's a big kitty #Tethry is also incredibly embarrased by them and hasn't ever summoned them where anyone else could see #Olath is very attached to him and will drape their whole body weight over him like an oversized lap dog any time they get the chance #I already know i'll be drawing this horrible creature more cause they're very fun to draw #also can you tell i played a worrying amount of the Endless Forest as a teenager?

[aaapplepie]

Purr

Sage x Reader (but mostly Sage), no specific warnings for this one but there is some angst in the middle!

He hates how loud his purr is.

He's spent so long putting up walls, building up his cool-and-aloof persona- and all that hard work is severely undercut by the fact that scratching him in the right spot makes him melt like a godsdamn housecat. Obnoxious. Mortifying. He hates it.

He doesn't purr in front of others often. When he does it's usually a smug, self-satisfied kind of purr, slipped into the brief minutes between lying in bed with a stranger and sneaking out their window. It's still embarrassing, but, well, they're normally too trashed to care. And it's not like he has a lot to feel good about these days. He'll take what he can get, even if the feeling curdles into self-loathing once he's back in his own bed. He'll forget the whole thing by morning anyway.

~

He's still a little self-conscious about purring in front of you. After the first few times it's starting to feel easier, but it's a kind of vulnerability that he's just not used to. It doesn't help that you've apparently made it your life's goal to get him to do it as often as possible, because you're a menace hellbent on torturing him specifically (and he loves you).

Tonight you have him seated on your bed, leaning back against you while you run your fingers through his hair. His eyes drift shut as you pause to scratch behind his ears; a moment later you feel a familiar rumbling where his back is pressed against your chest. The heat rises in his cheeks when you start to giggle, and he turns to give you a little nip on the shoulder in retaliation. But even as he does he snuggles a little closer, purrs a little louder, because fuck he's a sucker for hearing you laugh. He's still purring as he tugs you under the blankets; you rest your head on his chest and listen until sleep overtakes you both.

~

~

He hates how loud his purr is. He knows the corrupted can't hear it across the water- that they couldn't reach him even if they did- but that doesn't make him feel any safer. Nothing does. There's a deep, instinctual part of him that's convinced the vibration will stave off the corruption creeping through his body like a disease. The rest of him knows it won't. Still, he curls up on his island, bloody and sick and alone, purring himself into a broken sleep, and for once in his life he's not grateful that no one's around to hear him.

~

You're back. You're alive. You hold him close and make a gentle joke about his purring and he's too exhausted, too anxious, too relieved to care.

~

~

He hasn't thought about his purr for a while- he's had bigger concerns, and at this point it ranks pretty low on the list of things he's ashamed of. So when the two of you finally get some time alone and you tease him about his purring (again), he's almost surprised that he's blushing. It feels weirdly...normal. Routine.

He buries his face in your neck, half to pull you closer and half to hide his embarrassment. He hates how loud his purr is.

It's nice to worry about something stupid for a change.

#last legacy #sage lesath #sage x reader #did you know that cats purr when they're sick/injured #bc I didn't and it's making me sad for some reason #anyway these aren't super connected I just wanted to write about sage purring #I miss my boy :( #also some stuff I couldn't fit in there- #hc that sometimes when mc gets sick sage just flops on top of them and starts purring #like babe is it working. do you feel better yet. I'm helping :-) #also that ilephta parents (or at least cat ilephta parents) purr their kids to sleep #idk I've got catman brainrot #apple.txt

[mel-the-pirate-writeblr]

The Night We Met (Isles of Ysamaldri)

This short is inspired by the song of the same name by Lord Huron.

Isles of Ysamaldri Masterlist

This is a piece of an original fantasy story that I’ve had kicking around for a good seven years now. Specifically, this short focuses on the relationship between two significant characters, Maple and Cedric (who I also wrote a bit about for one of the December whump events). I was listening to the song “The Night We Met,” both a female cover and the original, and I couldn’t get these two out of my head with how wistful it makes me feel, and how their lives (and relationship) had changed drastically, as they wish to go back to a Before.

This isn’t necessarily in any place in the story relative to the other short things I’ve posted here.

Story short (899 words) under the cut!

Cedric couldn't sleep – it was the full moon, and the thoughts of his past surfaced. Usually, these thoughts weren't pleasant, surrounding the few months he had spent as a test subject to improve the Queen's personal guard and royal warriors, in that lab. While his last memories of being a highly-ranked Shal'jí went sour rapidly, it didn't start out that way.

     Like his time as one of the Mion Isle queen's most loyal warriors, his last few months knowing Maple – a fellow Shal'jí – hadn't been a pleasant time. But it didn't start out that way, did it? The night we met, we knew – we knew.

Like many others before and after him, Cedric had been given into the service of the Queen of Mion Isle, Queen Tahl’drí. Those given into the service of the queen as future royal warriors usually came at young ages, between their first or second year of life. This was due to a family hoping to improve their favor with the queen, or give the child a better life than they could give them themselves. It was an honorable role to have, and a vital part of their society. 

     Each child grew up and learned within Mion's palace, taken care of by other, older Shal'jí when they outgrew specialized caretakers. It created a community of siblings, a family. Everyone grew up with each other.

     Everyone, except for Maple. She wasn't a normal Cí’mehia.

     Like everyone else, Cedric had had a family, and a family name, and, like every other Shal'jí, he shed it once he got adopted into his new life.

     Except for Maple, who never had either in the first place.

     One fateful day, when Cedric was five years old, one of the Shal'jí brought a strange child to Cedric's year-group. They said she was a Cí’mehia, but anyone who saw her didn't see the familiar blonde/black hair, or the small cheetah ears, tail, nor the emerald green eyes that all Cí’mehia shared. This Cí’mehia resembled a domestic cat fitted onto a humanoid frame. She had pale ginger fur that covered her, in contrast to the mostly-human-passing Cí’mehia children, and pale green feline eyes. Her ears had the same proportions as a housecat, instead of the smaller ear proportions that the Cí’mehia children had.

     The newcomer looked eager yet nervous at the same time, meeting the other children whose curiosity beckoned them forward toward her.

     Cedric was one such child. And, that night, he met his best friend in all the Isles.

     If only we could go back, and do it again, Cedric thought. I'd refuse Tahl’drí's request to be part of the Cerine tests. 

     But he knew that wouldn't help. He'd otherwise have been complicit in whoever became the first Cerine, and their imprisonment in the lab. And who knows what else since then. Who knows how they might have – or might not have – held up.

🙞 🙟 🙝 🙜

Maple only dreamed of her childhood once in a while, and even then, most of the dreams came from her time in the lab. I had spent so many years in the lab. But this memory wasn't from that cold place – this was the day she met her siblings. It was the day that she had finally had the family she was promised.

She hadn't expected them to all look... the same, though. None of them looked like her. They all looked the same as the scientists and lab technicians she had known all of her life.

     The other children surrounded her, the curiosity burning in her eyes and in all of theirs. Clamouring voices pressed in, and so did their hands, but the older Shal'jí didn't let her retreat. They were a comforting presence behind her, as if to back her up. 

     Then she met Cedric, and Chetchri.

     Maple had only just begun understanding that no one would ever look like her, and that mattered to a lot of the Shal'jí she shared a year-group with, and the ones younger, but of the couple who didn't, she held on to them with a vice-like grip. They didn't call her a lab-cat, or deny that she was a Cí’mehia, like them. They called her a friend.

     As time passed, she and Cedric became closer, and Chetchri took an interest with working in the lab under the Mion Palace. Things changed for the busier, but largely stayed the same. Maple and Cedric often guarded the Queen together, and were regarded as some of her most skilled and trusted Shal'jí. And they trusted the Queen.

     But not anymore.

     Chetchri was part of Cedric's guard, when he was down in the labs. She brought Maple updates on him when she couldn't bare to go down there herself, which was most of the time. Maple had only gone down there a handful of times in the few months he had been down there, and one such time was as he escaped.

     I wanted to go with you.

     He ran, and she couldn't do anything – she couldn't raise the alarm, but she couldn't help him, either. He ran, oblivious to her presence, and she watched in the silence.

     Part of me is happy for your escape from the Isle. Part of me pities you.

     Part of me hates you for leaving me without a word.

#isles of ysamaldri #snippet #maple and cedric #maple oc #cedric oc #chetchri oc #the night we met #ioy #mel-the-pirate post #third person

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Practice Makes Perfect.

Word Count: 3.2k.

Commissioned by the lovely @furudolove.

Pairing: Yandere!OC/Reader.

TW: Death, Light Gore, Blood, Graphic Injury, Mentions of Kidnapping, Implied Stalking, Slight Sociopathy/Apathy, Implied Anxiety, Obsessive mindsets.

Her smile was familiar.

Or, familiar might’ve been the wrong word for it. Cozy in the way a hotel room was, stiff and sterile, but repetitive and recognizable, too. Reassuring like a disinterested family, soothing like the buzz of a broken streetlamp, relaxing like being so utterly, completely, absolutely lost, there was nothing you could do to possibly make things worse than they already are. It wasn’t off-putting, but it wasn’t welcoming, either. She didn’t feel intimidating, and yet, you still wanted to keep your distance, like a mouse might from a docile housecat. To stay bundled up in your little corner off the coffee shop, your coat pulled over your chest and…

And then she glanced up, and something in your brain short-circuited.

You really should’ve stopped staring earlier.

Instantly, your eyes shot back to the wooden tabletop in front of you, to the mug you’d almost forgotten, steam still rising off the top. She was a barista, after all, she was working, and the last thing she needed was some creep staring her down for the better half of the last thirty minutes, if only because of that uncanny, unidentifiable resemblance to something you couldn’t name. You weren’t a regular, but she felt new, still awkward with the machines and robotic with costumers, but you couldn’t say you were any better. You’d hardly said a word to her, aside from your order, and you didn’t plan to, not if you could help it. You’d never been good at that kind of thing, and you had a feeling your luck wouldn’t improve with someone so…

Someone like her.

Not that you’d been all that lucky with much of anything, lately. Hell, you were only here because you’d missed your train, and the next wouldn’t arrive for another hour, at least. There were more pressing things you could focus on, like the early shift you had tomorrow, how late you were going to get home, the busted lock on the door of your apartment, but it was easier to hate the rigid schedule that hadn’t bent to your will, the sidewalk that’d been just a little too crowded let you squeeze your way through peacefully, the light snowfall that meant you couldn’t wait at the station, regardless of how badly you wanted to bunker down on an uncomfortable, freezing bench and stubbornly glare at the tracks until you found a way to turn-back time and avoid such a trivial problem entirely. It was easier to focus on the barista, how her black hair fell in front of her face as she worked, how your fingers twitched, moving reflexively to push it back. It was an invasive kind of intimacy, the type that was as unearned as it was unwanted. Irrational and irritating, despite your attempts to brush it off.

Downing the rest of your drink, you forced yourself to stand. The station would be better, and fresh air would help to clear your mind, to stop you from paying attention to things that didn’t need attention. You tried to start towards the door, but you hardly made it a full step before something caught the back of your collar, tugging you back into place. There was a brief pause, a second that stretched out just a little too long, but hesitantly, you managed to turn around, only to be met by the smiling face you’d been simultaneously inspecting and avoiding. Only to be met by her, the barista, the girl you’d been all-but leering at, since you walked in.

Reflexively, you moved to apologize, but she was already talking, already forcing another paper cup into your unoccupied hand. “On the house,” She explained, in place of a proper greeting. You didn’t mind. You couldn’t really say you expected one, not from her. “It’s cold out there, and you’re starting to look like you could use it.”

There was a playful lull to her voice, a hint of something that balanced on the line between an insult and a genuine show of sympathy. You could only bow your head, your eyes suddenly glued to the floor. “I could, honestly,” You managed, the words coming out meeker than you would’ve liked. If she noticed, it didn’t seem to dampen her mood, her grin only growing broader as you went on. “Thank you…”

“Anya,” She finished, her smile never faltering.

“Call me Anya.”

~

You recognized her eyes, too.

Dark, just teetering on the shade where brown begins to blend with back. You might’ve said she looked distracted, but that wouldn’t be right – if anything, she seemed a little too concentrated. You were better about your staring, this time, but it would’ve been impossible not to look over you shoulder occasionally, not to throw a glance in her direction as you ducked behind a rack of magazines. It was a pathetic effort, really, an unnecessary one. It was a corner store, not her bedroom. You were shopping, not setting up hidden cameras. You’d gotten here before her, and you would’ve left if she hadn’t come in, if you could just put a strange resemblance aside and manage to act like a normal, functional human being. That’s what you should do, really. It’s what anyone else would do, whether or not there was the smallest, tiniest, most insignificant chance she’d see you and think, quietly and to herself, that you were a creep.

But, you weren’t someone else. And you really, really didn’t want her to think you were a creep.

So, hiding behind the magazine rack it was.

Currently, you were staring down a display cooler, trying to blend in with the background or melt into the fluorescent lights. You wanted to make yourself less noticeable, to shrink into your jacket and disappear, but that wasn’t an option – you were sure you already would’ve abused the privilege, if you had it. You just had to wait her out. You just had to—

“Another rough day?”

You just had to die. That was it, you just had to die.

At least she didn’t seem uncomfortable, inviting herself into your personal space before you could make the mistake of invading hers, choosing to stand just a little too close, her shoulder nearly touching yours. “Is it that obvious?” You muttered, your voice still low, like you were still trying to hide. A fox, still trying to walk on the leg it’d already chewed off. “I wasn’t really planning on running into anyone, this late.”

You said it like the two of you were friends, like it even made sense that she’d taken time out of her night to talk to you. Instantly, you regretted opening your mouth at all, but Anya only laughed. “I’d offer you another coffee, if I could,” She quipped, nudging you gently, her tone still unbothered, as if she made a hobby of confronting near-strangers. She might’ve, for all you knew. She felt like the kind of person who did. “A little company can’t hurt, though. I’d like to think I’ve gotten good at this kind of thing.” There was a pause, and enviously, you scanned over a dented energy drink. “Lots of training, y’know? People say I have a common face, makes it easier for people to talk to me.”

You allowed yourself a small sigh, a wave of relief washing over you. She must’ve been used to it, the strange stares and that distorted attraction, but you still tried to keep your eyes in front of you, on the sleeve of her silver coat as she reached up, toying with the cooler’s handle. “I don’t really have a lot to say,” You conceded, reluctantly. “It’s just been a tough week. My karma’s been off or something – nothing just seems to go right. Not that anything’s gone that wrong, either.” It was one of the few advantages of living such a small life. If you had the time to worry about whether or not the same girl would recognize you twice, you couldn’t have had much to worry about in the first place. “I’m just… a little stuck, I guess. It’s like I’m treading water, but I still know I’m going to drown, eventually.”

You caught her reflection in the clouded glass, an expression similar to guilt passing across her features and disappearing just a quickly, fading into a small, understanding smile, so unabashedly sympathetic, it almost felt practiced. “Like the universe has a bounty on your head.”

You let out a breath of a chuckle. “I wouldn’t take it that far.”

“Things can always get worse.” It was a declaration, shameless and unabashedly pessimistic, the kind that forced the tension in your shoulders to dissolve and your nerves to settle in the pit of your stomach, if only out of respect for her confidence alone. “But, no one should have to die alone. If you want to walk me home, we could try to stave it off for another twenty minutes together.”

If it were anyone else, any other stranger, you probably wouldn’t have agreed. You hadn’t been making excuses – it was late, closer to sunrise than sunset, and if your luck was going to get any worse, wondering around the city probably wasn’t the best idea. But, there was something about the way she asked, like she already knew you’d say yes, like she already trusted you enough to know you would. You didn’t want to disappoint her. You didn’t want to break whatever golden, idealistic expectations she’d managed to form, in the handful of days since you’d met.

“It’s not like I have anything better to do,” You admitted, letting her hook her arm around yours, pulling you closer to her side as you fought to keep your focus on the ground, willing the heat rushing to your cheeks to cool. “If it’ll keep me alive, I mean.”

There was only a smile in response, bright enough to let you overlook that, despite already moving to drag you to the cashier, she didn’t actually have anything to buy.

“I’ll do my best, this time.”

~

You could’ve sworn you’d seen her apartment before, despite knowing you’d never taken a step past the threshold.

Admittedly, you probably should’ve made more of an effort to change that before springing at the first opportunity to move in. Despite her confidence, Anya liked her privacy, and she always seemed to prefer your place over hers, taking every excuse you offered to spend the night or hand out or, on one special occasion, try and fail to surprise you with a romantic dinner. It almost felt unreal, trying to navigate the strange, empty halls, a cardboard box in your arms and your eyes burning, a side-effect of the white walls and the hanging fluorescent lights, complicated metal fixtures she seemed a little too fond of. You’d have to ask her about that, later on. You doubted your vision would last, if the entire apartment was like this.

“Already lost, babe?”

Your heart raced at the sound of Anya’s voice, but not like it used to, not out of pure, nervous tension. This was a nice sensation, a more pleasant sort of unease, leaving your cheeks flushed and your tongue failing as Anya draped herself over your shoulders, her own crate already thrown into whichever black room she decided it belonged in. She’d wanted to help, but with the Spring heat and how much time the two of you had spent cleaning out your last place, neither of you seemed capable of getting much done. “Can you blame me?” You asked, leaning back and melting into her. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you lured my back to your empty, bleached out murder den.” There was a pause, a slight hesitation on your part. “Which is not what happened, right?”

“Oh, no, not until I see how unbearable you are to live with, at least.” You huffed, attempting to shrug her off, but Anya only laughed, her arms dropping to your waist and her cheek coming to rest against your back. “I mean, I should be the scared one, if anything. After what happened to your apartment—”

“It was just bad luck,” You interjected, already embarrassed. “This kind of thing happens all the time.”

“An entire building burning down is not ‘bad luck’.” She sounded annoyed, but her faux exasperation was half-hearted, at best, a sentiment only backed up by her breathy sigh, all poorly veiled relief and numbed exhaustion. “It’s just a miracle you weren’t home. When you called me, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d do if…”

She trailed off, but you knew what she meant. You were still in a state of shock, honestly, still stuck in the same distant headspace you’d been in when you first saw the smoke rising into the air and the caution tape surrounding your neighborhood and the crowds, and you couldn’t imagine it was any less gruesome for her. “It’s not all bad,” You offered, reaching back, running your fingers through her hair idly. “If you hadn’t wanted to go on a date that day, I might’ve actually been—”

You didn’t get a chance to finish. Above you, something creaked, the sound of metal scraping against metal as a fuse fizzled and popped, an electrical static that fell silent just a moment too soon. You barely got a chance to consider moving before you were thrown on the ground, Anya on top of you and a mangled pile of glass and wires scattered across the floor behind her, the invasive light of the hall suddenly dulled into something grey, something absent. It took you a moment to process it all – the cracked floor tiles, the ache forming in the spot where your chest hit the ground, but Anya was quick to recover, a stifled laugh slipping past her lips before she could swallow it back. You might’ve been tempted to do the same, if your tongue hadn’t suddenly felt so heavy.

You might’ve been able to take it as lightly as she did, if the sound hadn’t been so familiar in such an awful, terrifying way.

It was difficult to speak, but you managed, the words coming out faltered and breathless. “I can’t… A-Are you alright?”

“You’re alright,” She mumbled, more to herself than for you.

“I’m fine, as long as you’re alright.”

~

Somehow, you felt like you’d heard her voice before.

Her smile was familiar, as were her eyes and the unnerving emptiness of her apartment, but you felt like you’d heard her voice before, like you’d listened to her, like you’d lied with your head in her lap and you’d heard her, not just something similar, not just an imitation you could convince yourself wasn’t the real thing. It was personal. It was real. It was Anya, even if you knew it couldn’t be. Even if you knew it wasn’t supposed to be.

Even if it had to be, and you were beginning to realize it could never have been anything else.

Anya was trying to be gentle, today. You couldn’t blame her, you’d be gentle if you found her like this, at the bottom of a staircase in a pool of her own blood, bones shattered and ribs cracked and body so twisted, you weren’t sure how she’d even recognized you. Still, there was an exhausted lilt in her voice as she crouched by your side – or, what she must’ve thought was your side, at least. “I knew this would happen.” There was a pause, a spark of agony that flittered across your scalp as she reached down, combing her fingers through your hair lazily. “Took a week longer than last time. Getting you back to my apartment is usually a turning point, but… different rules for different run-throughs, I guess.

“This isn’t the worst thing I’ve seen,” She went on, not bothering to wait for a response she knew wouldn’t come. “Car accidents are usually bloodier. You’ve gotten gutted a couple times, usually a day or two after we’re supposed to meet, and when you get caught in that fire…” She trailed off, and you tried to take a deep breath, something in your lungs ripping and spilling out, as a result. “I had to pull you out of a train crash, once. A fucking train crash. You hated trains, a few cycles ago.”

Anya let out a huff, something between a sigh and a groan, but if she had more to say, she didn’t bother offering more than a parting kiss to your bruised forehead, forcing out a whimper so cracked and so pitiful, you could hardly bring yourself to acknowledge as human. “I’ll see you next time, sweetheart.”

A blocked heel pressed against the crack in the back of your skull, and Anya’s weight shifted with a small, practiced grace.

It hurt, for a moment.

But then, it didn’t.

~

You looked a little different at the start of every cycle.

Anya didn’t mind. You were still you – beautiful, lovable, endearing you, regardless of the color of your jacket or what drink you chose, the day the two of you were predestined to meet. It didn’t matter if you were a little more jittery than you were last time, a little less willing to meet her eyes as she took your order, she could look past that. Whatever gap existed between the two, she could bridge it. Whatever hesitancy dozens of bloody, gory deaths might’ve instilled in you, she could help you overcome it, she could choke it out of you until only admiration was left, the same love she felt for you.

Of course, her goal was your survival, to protect you and get close to you and make sure you shake off whatever awful curse you seem to be under, but Anya found that a relationship was the best way to do that. She’d tried keeping her distance, manipulating individual factors rather than keeping you out of harm’s way directly, but that’d been about as effective as the time she’d locked you in her bedroom and attempted to take a more forceful approach to keeping you safe. She needed to keep a firm hand, not a strangle-hold. She needed to be outgoing, not intrusive.

Part of her was a little worried, albeit not nearly worried enough. She’d been the shy one, the first time the two of you met, stuttering and plain and completely unimportant, and you’d been confident, care-free, a far-cry from the paranoid, anxious shell you’d taken to hiding in, lately. She still loved you, obviously, she doubted she could ever stop loving you, but you were different. She was different, too. Both of you were.

But, Anya couldn’t seem to bring herself to care.

She smiled as she finished writing, reading over the number written onto your cheap, disposable paper cup, her name underneath it, punctuated by a row of hearts, for good measure. You wouldn’t call, she already knew, but Anya wasn’t feeling as patient as she usually was, she didn’t want to wait as long to skip to the fun part of her little routine. It was the least she could do to experiment. If she got lucky, you’d be desperate enough to ask for her help, after a little prodding. And, if she wasn’t, it’d be fine. She was sure of that. It’d always be fine.

She knew what to do if she made a bad impression, if she said the wrong thing, if she decided she couldn’t trust you with your own safety, anymore. You’d already abandoned her over and over again, died and left Anya to smooth over the damage…

She was sure you wouldn’t mind if she chose to be a little selfish, this time around.

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere prompts #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere scenario #yandere imagines #commission #commission writing #writing commission #yandere commission #female yandere #yandere girl #yandere fantasy #yandere fanfiction #yanderecore #yancore

[natusvincere]

Nightmare Square || Marley and Vic

Who: @detectivedreameater and @natusvincere Where: The Bend When: A few weeks ago What: Marley and Vic find out what dreams are made of... literally. Warnings: Allusions to child abuse, Head Injury Mention

Reports of strange activity down in the Bend had been pouring in, and Marley could no longer stand by and let it be written off. Well, sit by, as it were, as she scratched away at files from her desk. Soon, she had to remind herself, she was going to get back into the field soon. She just needed a bit more time to heal, to get better, to control herself. But soon. Still, soon didn’t ever feel like soon enough when she felt like the only cop in the precinct who understood the supernatural nature of the town. Ally was...getting there, but she had almost drawn a gun on Marley at just the mention of the supernatural, so there was still a way to go in regards to that. The only other officer she knew of who knew was Langley, and there was no way in hell she was ever asking him for help, after what had happened at the escape room. 

And so, she’d gone it alone. Probably not the best idea-- definitely not the best idea-- and Anita and Erin would probably kick her ass if they ever found out, but the solution to that was easy: make sure they never found out. She grabbed the pistol from her car and headed out, following the path that had been laid out by the many reports of suspicious activity. It led her behind a building and towards some of the abandoned buildings in the Bend, but so far, she hadn’t spotted anything. Even with her perfect vision, everything seemed pretty normal. She was about ready to give up when she heard a noise and saw a shadow. Marley stiffened and stood stock still for a moment, before allowing her body to turn invisible, creeping along towards the shadow. Turned the corner and-- “Vic?” Marley groaned, rolling her eyes as she became visible again. “What’re you doing out here?”

 Tips these days were far and few between.  There were phases of time when Vic would be gushing with information on vampire clans, pouring them out to hunters just as quick as she’d pour them a drink.  But lately was not one of those times.  Instead, there was a lull, making her desperate to scope out any lead she even had an inkling about, just to get some action in her life.  Things had been so mundane lately that she was actually considering attempting one of those video games she had been arguing with the internet about.  No, she couldn’t have that. 

The bend was a common location for these types of tips, and it was an area of town she was quite familiar with after doing this sort of work for so long.

She had been wandering around a few alleyways, traipsing in and out to find any sense of the vampires she’d heard the miniscule lead about.  She jumped, just slightly, when she heard her name, whipping around to face the culprit and ready to strike, if necessary.  Instead, she was met with a familiar face, and she let her guard down.  “Marley”, she said, leaning on her hip and pursing her lips.  “I could ask you the same thing.” It was a ridiculous thing to say, of course- it was Marley’s job to be in a place like this- to investigate the very filth that Vic wished to eradicate.  She suddenly realized she could hear music in the background- harp, that sounded strikingly similar to what Lyra used to play her.  It made her stomach turn.  “Since when are they piping music into the bend?”, she wondered, swallowing.

 “I’m a cop, Vic,” Marley answered sarcastically, “thought you knew that already?” She’d known Vic for a while now-- both as an acquaintance and, well, in other more intimate ways-- but she hadn’t seen her recently. It was strange running into her here and now, but this town had thrown stranger things at her. She paused when Vic said she heard music and tried to listen, but all she could hear was the ringing in her ears. She scrunched her nose. “I don’t think the bend has that budget quite yet.” An idea struck her, and her face lit up. “What do you say we go check it out together? Whatever’s there, I’m betting it’ll be a fun time for both of us.” A grin. “Like old times! Not that we ever did anything like this before, but it’s been a minute since I’ve seen you, and we both like dishing out what people have coming to them, right?”

 Vic rolled her eyes at Marley, though the suppression of a smile was harder in the company of someone she was comfortable with than she would like to admit.  She leaned back against the brick wall in an effort to stave off the feeling, crossing her arms in front of her.  Marley clearly  needed to get her hearing checked, and Vic furrowed her eyebrows at her.  “Your ears are failing in your old age”, she accused, leaning her neck around to locate the hidden speaker.  The music was haunting her, distracting and ever present.  Marley’s idea, and excitement, by extension, as amusing as it was surprising, and it was a welcome distraction. Vic stood up straighter at the prospect of someone to scope out the area with. It might be fun to catch up, and scoping out the area  with someone as skilled and experienced as Marley would be a piece of cake.  “Fine”, she said, pushing off the wall at the same time as she pushed another smile away.  “So, where to first, cop?” she asked, emphasizing the last word playfully.

 “Whatever, grandma,” Marley said, though she was aware that Vic had never actually told her her real age. “My ears are fine.” Even though they were ringing right now, she wasn’t about to admit that outloud. Her face lit up, though, when Vic agreed to her terms, and she practically bounced on her toes in excitement. It’d been so long since she’d investigated something with someone, considering she was benched at work. “I knew you’d agree!” she grinned, pulling out her glock and giving a sweeping ‘follow me’ gesture. “Show me where this sound you’re hearing is coming from, miss super hearing, and we’ll go from there, yeah?” She waved her gun slightly, letting her know that she was prepared for whatever was coming. “I came here for an investigation into strange activity, so, you know--” she nodded, “--just in case.”

 Pushing her hands into her back pockets, Vic let out a scoff, but followed along with Marley all the same. “What strange activity?”, she wondered, her eyes trained on the ground in front of them as they walked.  She shook her head, trying to concentrate on the sound to better locate where it was coming from, and grabbed Marley’s wrist to lead her to where she was sure it was coming from.  It didn’t seem to be getting any louder though, so she let out another frustrated scoff and pulled her in another direction, only to find the same problem. “I… I can’t figure this shit out”, she said, the distant harp sounding more hauntingly familiar with each passing moment.  “It’s like… it feels like it’s everywhere, ...I can’t locate a source”.  Behind Marley, a man slowly walking by caught her attention, and the sight of him shocked her.  If she didn’t know any better, she’d be sure it was her father. She looked at Marley, and then back at the man, but he was gone, replaced instead by a simple housecat. “There’s something fucked up going on”, she said, locking eyes with Marley again.  “I think I’m going batshit”.

 Marley let Vic drag her around, searching for her mysterious noise. She watched her closely as they headed around corners and through the back alleys. “Reports of people seeing things, stranger than usual things. Things that shouldn’t be possible, according to laws of physics,” she explained, “hey, you okay?” But before she could get the full sentence out Vic was turning and locking eyes with her-- something Marley hated when it wasn’t on her terms, her eyes were dangerous, even to a vampire-- and cursing about going crazy. “Hey, woah, slow down, what‘re you talking about? No source? It’s gotta have a source, Vic, that’s how sound works. Are you sure your super special vamp hearing isn’t going bad or something?” She watched Vic glance behind her and turned her head to see what she’d been looking at, but only found a cat. However, when she turned back around to face Vic, a familiar, bloody face greeted her and Marley jumped. “I think I’m going batshit,” Roland said and Marley scrambled away, shaking her head and-- it was just Vic again. “What the--” Was she seeing things? No, that wasn’t possible. She was the mara, she was immune to magically induced hallucinations. “Okay, something really weird is going on here and I’m not happy about it.”

 “Sounds like a regular day in the bend to me”, Vic breathed out, now on alert and worried her father might pop up out of the shadows again.  “Don’t people come here looking for trouble?” She shook her head at Marley, annoyed.  She wasn’t listening.  “No!  My fucking cursed hearing isn’t going bad.  It doesn’t work like that. It’s everywhere, Marley.  It’s not getting any louder or quieter, it just is”.  She stared at Marley, tilting her head in confusion at her reaction.  Was she seeing things too, then?  Her eyes glanced up toward the sky above them, and she could hear a faint, familiar giggle on top of the harp.  “This is freaking me out.  I’m getting out of here.  Are you coming, or are you stupid?”  Without waiting for an answer, Vic grabbed Marley by the wrist again pulling her down the alley they were standing in. The alley, which was before no longer than about 10 feet, now seemed to stretch out forever, and no matter how much they walked, it never seemed to end.  She stopped, turning around, only to see the alley endless stretching the other way too.  Dropping Marley’s wrist, she ran toward the end of the alley, pumping her legs with as much force as she could, but to no avail.  “What the fuck”, she said, turning around to Marley with wide eyes.  Somehow, they were still right next to one another.

 Too much was happening again and Marley was having a hard time following Vic’s train of thought. Her head was spinning, as Vic grabbed her wrist and started yanking her down the alley. But it stretched out, forever and ever and Marley felt panic swell inside her chest, her heart plummeting into the pit of her stomach. For a moment, the alley looked like that house. Peeling paint, sludge on the ground, claw marks dragged across the walls. Vic was running, and she’d left Marley alone. “Wait!” she shouted, reaching out for her, but then Vic was gone, and Marley was alone. Shadows danced in and out of her vision and she backed away, holding her gun up. “Show yourself!” she shouted, twisting in circles. “I know what you are! I-I’m not afraid of you anymore!” A noise to her left. Marley twisted, ready to pull the trigger, barrel pointed directly at her assailants face, but-- it was Vic again. Marley jumped. “You left!” she snapped, “you just-- where did you come from? What’s going on?” It was like a bad nightmare, but the only nightmare here was supposed to be Marley. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

 As soon as they appeared next to each other again, Marley was holding a gun out to Vic’s face.  On instinct she flinched back, but just barely.  Her eyes met the barrel of the gun, and starred it down, daring it to go off.  “You’re tweaking out on me, Stryder.”  She took her hand and rested it atop the gun, lowering it down so it was no longer settled between them.  “No shit.  But doing that the conventional way doesn’t seem very likely right now”, she said, indicting to either side of the alley.  The harp music began to ring louder and louder in her ears, as did the taunting giggles. She didn’t want to think about this, about her, about any of that nonsense.  “Jösses, shut up!”,  she screamed at the sky, covering her ears.  The sound from her shout, strangely, took on a visual form, and it shot up toward the sky above them.  Suddenly, and without warning, clouds from up above came toppling down toward them, and something in Vic’s gut just knew they weren’t soft and fluffy.  “Run!” she said, not bothering to look behind her and see if Marley was following.  “What the fuck is going on, Marley?  What kind of backwards ass shit were you investigating out here?”

 Marley didn’t resist as Vic lifted a hand and pushed the gun from her face, but she did keep a firm grip on her firearm. Something was happening here and she wasn’t taking any chances. “I’m not tweaking,” she snapped, but something in the back of her mind made her wonder if maybe she was, maybe it was her mind finally breaking. But that wasn’t possible, because Vic was experiencing it, too, and Marley knew it wasn’t her doing it. For once. “Hey, calm down. Vic--” Marley started, but then Vic was shouting at her to run and taking off. Her shout was tangible and Marley looked, just barely managing to leap out of the way when a chunk of something fell right where they’d been standing. “Vic!” Marley called again, scrambling to stand up. “Wait!” If they just ran wildly, they were going to get lost. Whatever was happening, it was creating a maze for them. She could feel it, as the alleyway turned into the hallway she’d nearly forgotten about. She’d thought she was over that. She wanted to be over that. Her hands shook and she began to sweat. “Vic?” she called out, as darkness enveloped the alleyway, pulling her away from the solace of her companion. She was alone in that house again and the skittering sound that had haunted her for months after echoed around her. “No,” she grunted. “No! I’m not afraid of you anymore!” And without thinking, she lifted her gun and fired.

 It took her longer than Vic would have liked to realize, but Marley was apparently not down with the idea of running away from their problems.  She stopped suddenly and whipped around, ready to scold her for not listening, but she was met with a wall that she was sure hadn’t been there before.  She whipped around again, facing where she had just come from, only to be met with another suddenly appearing wall.  “Fuck!”, she yelled, kicking one of the walls that now surrounded her. Suddenly, the harp like music that she’d been hearing sounded louder than ever, and when she turned around again, she was met with a sight that made her heart rise to her throat.  It was Lyra, sitting there and playing the nyckleharpa, as if it were 1570s Sweden and not present day White Crest.  Tears rose to her eyes, but she suddenly felt like she couldn’t breath, like the 4 walls around them were closing in and there was no way out.  The more Vic looked at Lyra’s face, the less she looked like her- her face morphed from a calm, gentle smile to a sickeningly sinister one, one that threatened to overtake her whole face if it grew any wider.  “This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real”, she repeated, turning away from fake Lyra and covering her ears, desperate not to hear anymore.  A loud crash shook her out of her thoughts and she looked behind her, only to find one of the four walls shattering in front of her, Marley’s bullet whipping by her face mere seconds later.  She took a moment to catch her breath, but quickly ran close to Marley again, happy to be rid of dream Lyra. “We need to stick together”, she said, the only hint of an apology that would be leaving her lips.  “To...to find a way out of whatever this is”.

 The sound of glass shattering signaled that Marley had hit something, but it certainly wasn’t a something that she’d expected or been aiming at. Vic was running back towards her, and the fear on her own face made Marley realize that what they were seeing were two different things. Which meant-- “Magic,” she exhaled. “Whatever’s doing this is magic. And, well, by the looks of it, fucking powerful.” She blinked, trying to reset herself. She scrubbed her hand across her eyes, removing her sunglasses all together. If they were going to get through this, then they needed all their concentration. She even holstered her gun, because what good was a gun against magic? “What did it show you?” she asked, then, looking Vic square in the eyes. It might’ve been nighttime, the element both of them thrived in-- but they were left vulnerable here. Even Marley was sure magic could do her in at night. She’d always been warned against magic, especially those powerful enough to manipulate the mind.

 “Fucking bullshit town”, Vic muttered under her breath, disgusted that Marley’s explanation of what was going on seemed just about as viable as any, at this point.  She shook her head at Marley’s question, not willing to divulge what she saw to anyone, ever.  Marley knew she didn’t do feelings, she would do well now to know not to press.  “Something from my past”, was all she offered, shuttering as the image of Lyra with that sickening, wide grin flashed into her mind again.  “What about you?”, she asked.  She looked around them, their surroundings still morphing and warping as time passed, though they seemed to be more obvious about it now that they were aware that something was up.  “None of this makes sense, it’s all so...random and irrational.   Are we at the hands of some fucked up, magic child?”

 Vic was about as forthcoming as Marley assumed she would be. Sighing, she rubbed a hand across her face. “A nightmare,” she mumbled, “and also a...recent thing that happened.” Some people would describe it as a “traumatic experience” but Marley certainly wasn’t going to use those words. At least not with Vic. She gave a hollow chuckle. “Funny,” she said, eyeing their surroundings. “But no. I think it’s...drawing its inspiration from us. Whatever it is. I don’t think it’s a person, though. Probably some sort of...magic pocket or something. They occur around the town quite a bit, but never this, well-- big. Or often.” Or powerful. This pocket felt as if it might swallow Marley whole. She tried to steady her breath. “I think we need to...stop feeding it. If it has nothing to draw from, the illusions might just, go away. Only problem is, I’m not sure how to cease brain function. At least, you know,” she gave a snigger, “for myself.” 

 Vic eyed Marley suspiciously, though she couldn’t expect her to elaborate, not when Vic was so anti-sharing during their time together.  It was frustrating that she had a sense of concern about whatever might be going on with Marley, and she buried it, for the sake of solving their current problem.  She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of it all, even though she knew Marley was probably right.  “Are these magic pockets sentient?  Because it seems to know what the fuck it’s doing, and it’s got a sick sense of humor.”  As if on cue, flower petals began to flutter around both of them, dancing in rhythm with each other as they fell from the sky.  She let out a frustrated breath as one landed on the bridge of her nose, and she flicked it away with specific determination and annoyance.  “But if you stir up nightmares, wouldn’t logic say that you can defeat them as well?”, she wondered aloud, doing a bad job at hiding her approving smirk at Marley’s bad joke.  “Okay, so like… a trance?”  That, she could do.  She had an easy enough time clearing her mind when she went into trances during the day, but would Marley be able to do the same?  “I can clear my mind in a fucking snap, but what are we gonna do about you?”

 “I don’t think sentient is the right word, but--” Marley ground her teeth, shrugged, “something like that. It’s at least intelligent or, maybe just playing off our minds. Mental magic is a thing, I’m pretty sure.” She really needed to learn more about magic, didn’t she? The thought dissipated quickly, because they had more important things to focus on. Like getting out of this nightmare. It felt a little like cosmic karma when she thought of it like that. She looked up as the petals began to rain down, catching one in her palm. It felt so real. That was the problem, wasn’t it? This shit was real. It wasn’t just their imagination. It was like the pizza downtown, or the fish raining down. The sticky road in the Bend. Marley crushed the petal in her palm. A smirk grew on her face, wide and joyful. “Scratch that,” she said, turning to look at Vic. She pulled her gun back out and loaded it, then held it out to Vic as she pulled another from her boot. “Think as hard as you can about one thing. I don’t just stir up nightmares, Vic, I manifest them. I make them real because I draw from someone’s memory for them. That’s what this place is doing.” She opened her palm to show her the crushed petal. “It’s making them real, the more we think about them. And if something’s real, well,” she gestured to their weapons, “something can be destroyed.”

 Vic studied Marley’s face, watching a myriad of emotions pass through, each stronger than the last.  Whatever she was thinking about, it seemed to be working out a way to get them out of this mess, and she found herself taking solace in the triumphant smirk presented to her.  But then, there was the gun, which might as well have been shoved into her hands.  She held it like it was some sort of germ, one that she wished to be rid of.  Of course she knew how to fire one, thanks to countless self-defense courses she’d put herself through over the years- but for some reason, she could never bring herself to buy one of her own.  There was something that felt wrong about holding it- it felt too real.  She didn’t do horrible things, she just set it up so that other people could. Deep in her mind, where memories of her past mixed and swelled and begged to come pouring out, she worried that if she allowed herself to own one, maybe she’d be the one doing the horrible things after all.  

She shook her head.  It was a waste of time to dwell on maybes and worries and what-ifs.  Especially now and here.   She licked her lips as she listened to Marley’s advice, and closed her eyes. Think, think think.  Her fiance, Lyra, a tutor, a flash of her mother’s face, Winnie, Morgan, angry with her after they tried to garden, her tiny, paint stained fingers, blurred away by tears as a booming voice bellowed from behind her… nothing was sticking.  Whatever she had to think of, Marley was going to see, and know, and ask bullshit questions about things that didn’t matter anymore.  She shook her head again, lowering her gun and looking at Marley.  “It’ll be enough if you do it, I think.  You destroy your nightmares, and we’ll both be out of here.  I’m not that afraid of anything that it gives me nightmares, so…” Her words were shaky and uneven, and even the dullest stranger could have sensed the insincerity in them.  

 Marley watched Vic’s face closely and understood the feeling she was going through. Debating whether or not to expose the truth about the nightmares that had once plagued her. The truth was that neither of them could dream anymore, let alone have nightmares. But for Vic, that didn’t mean that she didn’t used to have them, however long ago. Marley had experienced nightmares once in her life, she didn’t have much to draw on. Not anymore. She didn’t understand the feelings dreams and nightmares brought with them like other people did. She never could. It was another thing her species had taken from her. How strange, to feed from something you could never truly understand. She furrowed her brow at Vic. “You can’t lie to me,” she said simply, frowning. “Thought you knew that by now.” She looked around them as the world cycled through different iterations of itself. Hallways, closed doors, large rooms. They needed to work fast if they wanted to get out of here. She looked back at Vic with narrower eyes. 

“I’ve never had a nightmare before,” she stated, a simple fact, “whatever this is, is drawing on my subconscious. I can’t control that. But it’s drawing on your nightmares. From when you were human. I know that was like, what, at least a few decades? Maybe a century?” She shifted, facing Vic fully. “But you had them. You can still remember them. So, fucking feed the entity or I’m gonna go invisible and leave you behind.” She couldn’t actually do that, but she figured she got the point across.

 “I’m not ly-”, Vic started, but the look on Marley’s face told her to not even try.  As many times as she had successfully avoided discussing feelings and their past and all that bullshit with Marley, it was becoming abundantly clear that after today, she would no longer be afforded that privacy.  Time to find another fuck buddy.  She let out a low sigh, pressing her lips together and staring Marley down.  This was ridiculous.  She was not about to relive her childhood in front of Marley- not when she had spent years perfecting the art of ignoring them all together.  But then Marley’s threat made her heart skip a bit- there’s no way she could bear being here any longer- especially not alone.  With a frustrated grunt, she closed her eyes, focusing on whatever decided to come up first.

She looked down at her hands, but they weren’t her worn, grown up ones.  No, the ones she saw now were tiny and undamaged...and covered in paint.  So was her pretty dress, but it didn’t look ruined to her.  It stood out, now, bright and blue and splotched all over, in a way that might make people pay attention and tell her how beautiful she looked.  Next to her no longer stood Marley, but her tutor- looking cross and annoyed, like she did most mornings.  But then the door slammed open, causing her to jump back with a start.  And there her father stood- tall and loud and boiling over with disappointment and shame.  Shame that she wasn’t good enough, that she wasn’t a boy, that she was too loud, too messy, too clumsy.  Too Victoria. He bound toward her, his stride and pace matching the monsters she read about in her books late at night.  Though she stared him down, forcing her face to look as dark and angry as his, her breath was quickening and her heart threatened to beat out of her chest.  No, no, no.  This was not real.  He died- a long time ago.  She had watched the service for him from afar- covering her face and ignoring the conflicting feelings that fought each other in her chest.  Looking down at her hand, she noticed it was no longer that of a child, but her normal, adult hand again.  She lifted the gun up, studying it, and after a quick glance at Marley (who was suddenly back where she belonged), she held it toward him.  It was the first time she’d seen him stop in his tracks.  Without dwelling on it any longer, she felt her finger pull the trigger, and the man in front of her disappeared into a simple tuft of smoke, dissolving into the atmosphere as if he was never there to begin with. 

Vic shoved the gun back into Marley’s hands, hoping the other woman wouldn’t notice her sweaty palms, or the way her breathing still hadn’t quite settled down.  “Happy now?” she asked angrily, as if Marley had been the one to put them here in the first place.

 Marley watched with fascination as Vic’s nightmare began to unfold in front of her. It was a spectacle, for sure, to see a vampire’s nightmare. Fear gazing never gave the same satisfaction, but this was-- strangely more fulfilling, despite her not even choosing to feed off the fear. The alleyway melted and gave way to a room, with a desk, and some supplies, a chalkboard. Marley didn’t recognize it at first, but it seemed to be some sort of educational room. There was a woman standing beside Vic, who was staring down at her hands in awe. A tutor? A nanny, perhaps? Some sort of caretaker. Stood nearby, a frown on their face. She was angry at Vic. But not as angry as the man who burst into the room. He seemed to appear out of nowhere and Marley watched him with wide eyes. He was...her father, she supposed. She stepped aside as Vic finally worked up the courage to confront the nightmare. She felt the world changing around them. It was already melting away. The scittering in the back of Marley’s mind was dissipating. She turned her gaze back to VIc.

The gunshot echoed in the empty alleyway.

They were back in the real world, the nightmare they’d been stuck in just a tiny shimmer falling to the ground around them like confetti. She took the gun when it was handed to her, staring at Vic. She didn’t quite comprehend what she’d just witnessed. She’d seen many a nightmare, but Marley fed from adults only. Something like this only lived inside her own memories. She blinked them away and holstered the gun after flipping on the safety. “I don't particularly enjoy watching you suffer, no,” was all she said, before grabbing her arm and walking them out of the alleyway. She wasn’t sure there was much else to say. What she’d seen was a part of Vic she was sure she’d never wanted anyone to know. Did Marley care to ask her about it? A year ago, the answer was no. Maybe even a few months ago. But now? “I’m sorry,” she muttered, not looking at her. “That you suffered like that.”

 The fake world flitted away, but Vic still felt it hard to maintain the rapid breathing that was overtaking her lungs.  None of that had been real- not the fake Lyra, the fake music, or her fake Father.  It was weakness, then, that made the sight of them stir so many emotions.  She let herself be pulled out of the alleyway, still staring at the spot they left as if it would all appear again, as if the nightmare weren’t over.  But the longer they were in the real world again, the more secure she felt in it- the sickening dizzy feeling had disappeared with the nightmares. People walked by them as if they had been there the whole time, and noise could be heard from the shops and bars around them.  It was over with. Still, tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.  And with Marley’s apology, a few did.  She wiped them away harshly with the heel of her palm.  “Stop”, she commanded quietly, shaking her head.  “I don’t want your pity. I don’t want-...”  She ducked her head, letting out a breath, “Everybody suffers.  There’s no use in harping on it”.  She rang her fingers together, picking and pulling at them as she looked back to Marley.  Marley, who didn’t have nightmares herself, but seemed to be faced with anxieties of her own in their shared nightmare land.  “It was clear I wasn’t the only one seeing things back there.”  She shouldn’t care about Marley, but still, her questions blurted out.  “Is something going on with you? Are you going to be okay?”

 “It’s not pity,” Marley muttered back, but she knew why Vic said it that way. Recognized the same defensive mechanisms in her that she built in herself and pretended were normal and natural. She hadn’t suffered the way Vic had. The way so many others did. Her suffering was because she’d been born a monster-- Vic had been made one. At least they could relate there. She sighed, furrowing her brow. “Suffering is universal,” Marley recited, as if from a textbook, “our experience of it is not.” She let go of Vic’s arm and shoved her hands in her pockets. “With me? No. That was just--” she gave a half shrug, “some old shit.” And it was, wasn’t it? It had to be. She removed her sunglasses from her pocket and put them back on. There were other people around now. “I’m always fine, anyway.” 

 Vic blinked away the last of the tears and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest.  Marley didn’t want to talk about whatever she had experienced, and she wouldn’t push her on it, despite the dull ache to wonder aloud and learn more about what had scared the unscareable. There was a long moment where neither of them said anything, but then Vic let herself turn back to Marley, her face much harsher than when they first met up.  “Do you want to get out of here?  Go back to my place and… forget, about whatever that was.”  She blinked, always hyper aware of the likelihood of rejection; always determined to stop it before it happened.  “Of course, you could always stay here and play good cop like you do. I’m sure you’re just dying to stop something like that from happening to anyone else”.

Marley couldn’t help but laugh. “If you think I’m the ‘good cop’ in any scenario, then you don’t know me as well as I thought you might.” She holstered her gun and looked around, then let her gaze fall back on Vic. Maybe she should have stayed here, figured out what was going on, but she really didn’t want to. And maybe she should have pressed Vic more about what they’d both just witnessed, but she also didn’t want to do that. No, she wanted to go back to Vic’s place, and get drunk and probably fuck around and hopefully forget about everything that had happened here. Her usual Saturday night. She reached out to brush a bit of dust from Vic’s shoulder, then tapped her chest, leaving her hand there a moment. “Your place it is,” was all she said.

#p:ns #p:marley #p #tw: child abuse #tw: head injury

[mst3kproject]

The Navy vs the Night Monsters

Of course, it’s not like bad things stop happening now that 2020 is finally over… we just get to start counting again from zero. Kind of like how I’ve started counting thirty-six Episodes that Never Were per year, beginning with this one. It was co-directed by Wyott Ordung from Robot Monster and features familiar faces like Russ Bender and Mamie Van Doren, the latter for once not playing a teenage delinquent.  It also has one really obscure MST3K connection: it was based on a story by Murray Leinster, which the sharp-eyed will remember as the name of the ship attacked by Evil Count Zarth Arn’s lava lamp weapon at the beginning of Starcrash!

A plane carrying specimens of Antarctic flora and fauna makes a rather rough and unexpected landing at a naval base on remote Gow Island in the south Pacific.  There appears to be nobody on board except the pilot and a few penguins – the former is in a catatonic state, and the latter are... well, penguins... so what happened to the rest of the passengers and crew is a complete mystery.  Did the pilot go mad and kill them?  Did the penguins?  Or did it have something to do with those mysterious ancient trees discovered growing around a geothermal spring in the heart of the frozen continent?

The first ten minutes of this movie are spent trying to be a comedy.  Before we get anywhere near the plot, we first have to listen to the guys on the plane try to be funny about their lunch and their tastes in women.  Then on the island, we watch a guy who can’t seem to figure out how to inflate a balloon, followed by a dude talking to his dog, and then a really icky bit where two women convince a man he had sex with both of them, which he buys because he was too drunk to remember.  Only then do we finally establish what’s actually going on.  The impression one gets from this beginning is that The Navy vs the Night Monsters is going to be peopled entirely by Jackass Comic Relief characters, and I actually turned the film off and sat on it for a couple of days to psych myself up to watch the rest.

When I finally turned it back on, to my relief the movie turned out not to be quite that bad, but it’s still pretty damned bad.  The dull and unfunny opening is followed by an abrupt shift of tone, as a man maddened by terror jumps from the plane to his death!  The only thing set up by the opening that turns out to be relevant is Spaulding the meteorologist’s crush on Nora the nurse, when she’s in love with the base’s second in command, Lieutenant Brown.

I complain frequently about useless love triangles in movies.  This one is very useless, and all the more so because the script totally forgets to resolve it.  Spaulding hates Gow Island but stays because he’s in love with Nora – he wants her to go back to Miami with him and marry him.  When he puts this idea to her, however, it becomes obvious that Nora can’t stand him, and it’s clear enough why: Spaulding is an asshole and he treats Nora not as a partner but as a possession.  Never does he show any sort of tenderness towards her.  Every time they speak to each other, he seems to end up shouting, and his jealousy of Brown repeatedly leads to violence.

Brown, on the other hand, treats Nora with respect and actually shows vulnerability around her.  He’s been left in charge while the base’s commander is on the mainland attending an important meeting, and he’s really feeling the pressure as the base is surrounded by tree monsters in the dark.  He talks about his anxiety and Nora comforts him, and the audience rolls their eyes because it’s perfectly obvious which of these guys she’s going to pick.  And sure enough, at the end she’s in Brown’s arms… but nothing about the whole situation is exactly resolved.

Brown and Spaulding did get in a fist fight, though it wasn’t explicitly over Nora, but nobody ever talks about the problem. Spaulding never realizes that he’s treated Nora badly, and it never seems to even occur to him that she might prefer Brown over him, or even that she has emotions or preferences at all.  He definitely never seems to understand that he’s lost.  Brown and Nora seem to feel a need to hide their love affair from the other base staff, but we’re never given a reason why (although I guess ‘Spaulding’s a dick’ is reason enough).  Nora never tells Spaulding that she prefers Brown… maybe she’s afraid he’ll assault her?  I hate everything about this situation, but nothing more than the fact that as the movie progresses we get hints that Nora may be warming up to Spaulding, as if she’s supposed to consider these two guys equal contenders for her affections!  Fuck everybody who wrote this, seriously.

It’s kind of sad to see Mamie Van Doren in a role like this after meeting her in things like Untamed Youth and Girls Town.  Those movies were gross and exploitative, but Mamie’s characters were central to their plots and she filled those shoes reasonably well.  She wasn’t Oscar material but for what the films were, she was enough to carry them.  The Navy vs the Night Monsters is a little closer to being a ‘real movie’, but in this respect it represents a step down for her, as she is relegated to being something for two men to fight over.  Furthermore, Silver from Girls Town and Penny from Untamed Youth were both characters who required some range – Nora the nurse mainly spends the whole movie being annoyed with the men in her life.  Van Doren could have done much more if anyone had bothered asking it of her.

Let’s see… what else do I hate about this movie? I hate Private Chandler, the guy who stays a Jackass Comic Relief character once that opening is over. Shockingly, The Navy vs the Night Monsters actually kills him off, but he’s not nearly as annoying as Dropo or the guy from Outlaw, so his death merely feels mean rather than having any entertainment value.  The guy was just about to actually get laid by one of the women who’d made fun of him earlier – though she, like Spaulding, showed no sign of being sorry for past jerkitude.

I hate the monsters.  Normally I have a soft spot for plant monsters.  They’re a cliché in their own way, I guess, but they’re a fun idea.  The ones in The Navy vs the Night Monsters kill and digest people with acidic sap, and a character theorizes about how and why such a thing would evolve, which is cool. The execution, however, sucks. While the poster for the film shows us a humanoid Treebeard-looking thing, the actual monsters in the film are dumb-looking stumps that waddle along like a couple of guys trying to move a piece of furniture corner-by-corner because it’s too heavy to lift.  The result reminds me of The Creeping Terror, in that you have to want to get eaten by these things.  At one point a guy walks right up to one, inspects it, and escapes its clutches merely by backing away slowly!

The trees reproduce using insect-like larvae that are, themselves, lethally venomous.  This is also a neat idea which is, once again, ruined by the execution. The tiny ones are being pulled along the floor by a sometimes-visible string, and then they grow into stumps that look like they should be stools around a boy scout campfire, which move even slower than the adult trees!  There’s a scene where the characters are holed up in the base under an onslaught of these, with planes arriving to napalm them just in time, and it is ludicrous in its attempt to feel threatening.

I do like that Gow Island is a bleak middle-of-nowhere rather than a tropical paradise.  The landscapes kind of remind me of the Falkland Islands, though the weather on Gow is evidently better.  You can see why some of the characters hate it here, surrounded by barren scrub inhabited mostly by ten thousand smelly, raucous seabirds. Unfortunately this backdrop makes the ‘comedy’ opening seem even more out of place, though it’s also kind of nice that they didn’t give us any stereotyped ‘natives’ as either comedy or monster fodder.

As for a theme… well, The Navy vs the Night Monsters is clearly about an invasive species.  The biologist, in suggesting how the tree monsters evolved, points out that they are suited to the hostile environment of Antarctica in ways that make them nearly unstoppable anywhere else.  We’re told that they devoured all the penguins the scientists were bringing back for study, and as well as eating the people, they wreak havoc among the Gow Island seabirds and reproduce out of control.  The parallels to things like cane toads in Australia, or housecats just about anywhere, are obvious.

This isn’t something the characters care about, though, even the ones who profess to be scientists.  At the end, enough of the trees are destroyed that the humans can safely evacuate, and what happens after that is clearly Gow Island’s problem, not humanity’s. I really would have liked to see the script go into this a little more, but then, The Navy vs the Night Monsters is not a movie that wants to go into anything, even stuff it sets up in some detail.

At the end, The Navy vs the Night Monsters feels pretty half-assed.  Somebody wanted to make a movie, and then put in the bare minimum effort possible to have all the parts present.  They clearly understood how movies work, but they didn’t have the money and didn’t want to go to the trouble.  The result is deeply mediocre.  There’s a few laughs out of the dumb stump creatures, but mostly it’s just bad.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #the navy vs the night monsters #tw: abuse #humanitarian vegetables #60s

[dreams-of-the-arcana]

31 Days of Arcana: Day 10 Familiar

⚠️ Warnings: Implied animal abuse, panic attack, fire ⚠️

Ialonus was rescued from a traveling circus but things definitely did not go to plan...

Ialonus

Uh-oh

Simple and to the point.

The blaring sounds of knowing things are definitely not going as planned.

That was all Andi could hear over the loud pounding in her ears as she sat in the back area of the largest tent she’d ever seen.

‘Who decides to use a tent to house shows that include fire?!”

Only a few days before, Andi and Asra heard the news of a traveling circus stopping by outside the city gates while shopping in the market. Life had begun to settle down after Lucio’s brief reign of terror ended and perhaps the citizens could use some fun.

“I hear they have one of the largest displays of captive animals this side of Prakra!”

One sentence was all it took to put an end to any ideas of merriment in Andi’s mind.

Over the days leading up to the events, Andi tried to rationalize the information to herself.

‘They could be tame animals being treated very well? There’s no need to assume the worst! They could be happy...’

Nothing quelled the dark feeling in her gut though. So she began to form a plan.

Asra noticed the looks of concentration and determination in Andi and decided to let her come to him when she felt comfortable. Circuses and carnivals had always been a hard subject for her since her days on her own. Asra heard all the stories of her animal liberations from meat markets, private zoos, or poachers when they were teenagers. Now, Andi didn’t have any of those memories.

Asra tried his best to tell her a little when she asked, careful that she didn’t become overwhelmed. But the scars on her hands and arms from daring rescues were a permanent reminder of the time she’d lost.

No, she would have to do something.

On the day of the festivities the two mages wandered into the field where a whole world seemed to spring up.

Color screamed at them from every direction, the sounds of shouting or laughter reverberated off the flimsy walls, delicious and not so pleasant smells filled the air.

Andi spotted someone in make-up made to look like a fish juggling fire sticks while telling jokes. At the same time, Asra watched someone on tall stilts stepping over the crowds and tossing little candies below them.

Magic thrummed in the air as many of the performers weaved it into their acts.

Andi had to pause often in quiet corners to focus on her emotional shield. If even the smallest crack appeared, she’d be quickly overtaken by all the emotions swirling around.

The magicians wandered, awed, and ate whatever caught their eye until the sun had set.

As soon as the dark crept in, lights appeared to fill a strange looking tent in the middle of the field. Performers began herding the crowds into the tent with promises that the best had yet to come.

Andi and Asra allowed themselves to be swept in but stood near a door in case they needed a quick exit. Unfortunately, the best did not come.

A large sweaty man in obnoxiously bright clothing stood at the center of the tent and began to yell out his introductions. This was the Show Of the Beast. Andi gripped Asra’s hand a little tighter.

Inside the circle spread out in the middle, zebras appeared magically and started to run. Ooo’s and Aww’s poured in at the impressive sight. Dancers took to the middle and began to command the Zebras. It was all so organized. The Zebras moved as they were told, dogs ran in wearing little outfits and performed tricks, even a wolf appeared where they gave a good howl to the sky. The crowd loved every moment.

But by the door, Andi’s aura grew darker. Did they not notice the marks on the Zebras legs? The terrified look of those dogs? The malnourished wolf who walked with a heavy chain? Or did they just not care.

It was all too much for her.

Andi excused herself by telling Asra she was going out for some fresh air. He offered to come with her and even better, offered to go home early but Andi waved it off. Around the corner of the tent she took a deep breath. Slowly, her magic reached out to map out the inside of the tent. Animals were kept in a closed off area where the guests couldn’t see them but only one person sat with them.

Andi leaned against the canvas wall outside the room and seemed to slip through the surface as if it were only the surface of water. She tried not to pause and wonder where she’d learned that or how she even knew to do it.

Cages filled the room and the sounds of miserable cries came from all around. It broke her heart to hear but at the same time made sneaking easier. Ever so carefully, Andi pulled out her little lock picking kit and got to work. Once a cage was unlocked she pressed it closed with a little magic so all the animals stayed inside instead of bursting out in ones and twos. Then she spotted the lone guard whose chair sat right in front of a very large cage holding a very unhappy looking lioness.

Andi his herself behind some cages and closed her eyes. It was easier to use the kit but with someone so close she’d have to use magic. Lock picking was a delicate type of magic, she had to do the exact same process as before only without the physical tools or feelings. Essentially, Andi had to become the tools and the skill at the same time.

Precious seconds seemed to tick by so quickly as she focused on each individual tumbler. Clicks so faint sounded like canons.

Finally, the lock gave.

That’s when the plan fell apart.

Andi took half a second of relief after the lock released and apparently that was all it took for the lioness to form her own plan. Andi didn’t have time to hold the door closed before a strong force slammed into the metal doors. The lioness forced her way out of the cage and launched at the person guarding her. They screamed as they ran from the room and in the panic Andi accidentally lost focus and all the doors released at once.

Chaos erupted.

Screams of humans and animals overtook everything. Andi curled up on herself with her hands pressed firmly over her ears.

Too much.

Fur brushed by her skin.

Too much.

Smells of sweat and excitement.

Too much.

Smoke.

Fire.

Too much.

A small ball of golden light.

Too much.

Softness wormed it’s way into her arms.

Too much...

A heat radiated at her core...

A soft voice...

‘Safe’

Andi awoke in her own bed hours later clutching her core as if to hold onto the imaginary warmth.

Asra was by her side immediately and cautiously wrapped her in his arms. He held her tightly and whispered soothing words. As Andi came to her senses the memories of the night flooded back in.

“A-Asra?” Her voice cracked.

“Shhh, my love, you’re safe. You’re home.”

Andi nodded unconsciously.

“Wha-what happened?”

“There was a fire...,” he started then sighed.

“You kept a secret from me.”

Andi looked down at her lap in shame. Instead she saw an unexpected sight. A small ball of tan fur snoozed away as she clutched it to her. The warmth was real and coming off of this tiny creature.

“Asra...? What’s this?”

Asra peered over her shoulder at the lump.

“Oh, yes. I couldn’t get you two apart when I found you.”

Andi gently lifted the animal up to eye level so she could get a better look. Sleepily they revealed large blue-grey eyes and yawned so long pointy teeth were on display.

“This... this is a Lion, Asra.”

Andi stared in shock but the cub didn’t seem to care and started whining about his interrupted nap.

‘Sleep!’

“Asra! It talked!”

Realization hit Asra first and he reached out to lower her arms so the cub could lay back down.

“It is. They also seem to be your familiar because I didn’t hear it speak.”

Andi stared at the bundle in shock. Of course she’d always wondered when or even if she’d get a familiar but a lion had never crossed her mind. She’d always thought a wolf would be closest to her own temperament. Maybe even a housecat or a dog. Never something so wholly beyond their normal realm of animal life.

Then again, she wondered if that’s why she’d never found them until now.

“I just never saw myself as a lion-like person,” she mused.

“Isn’t that the point though? If our familiars were like us, we’d never learn anything from them. Instead maybe we find those who help us unlock another part of ourselves.”

Andi smiled, she liked that idea. Her face quickly fell though and she groaned.

“Feeding him is going to be a nightmare...”

#the arcana #the arcana game #fan apprentice #arcana apprentice #arcana oc #arcana fanfic #andi the apprentice #31daysofarcana #ialonus the lion

[thunders-warcats-stuff]

Reject the Deputy

Fireheart can’t take the deputyship but he refuses to leave his Clan to fend for themselves.

“Ah, Fireheart. Come to report on how the extra patrols are going?”

“I’ve come to ask a favor.” Fireheart corrected nervously.

“Not unusual for you. Go on.”

“I need you to make someone else deputy. Someone older, maybe. Like Whitestorm or Speckletail.”

“No.”

“There are cats far more experienced than me who are able to help you guide this Clan.”

“And yet I have chosen you.”

“You chose wrong!” Fireheart insisted. “Why can’t Whitestorm be deputy? Or Mousefur? Longtail and Darkstripe already think they can do a better job, why not make one of them deputy?”

“Because I don’t want to.” Bluestar sneered. “A deputy is a cat I will have to stare at and talk to for most of the day. Half your choices are insufferable and the other half would not be willing or able to guide the Clan through such a difficult time. “Furthermore, you were the first to warm me about Tigerclaw’s treacherous ways. None of these cats knew. I sure didn’t, at first. Even then I didn’t want to believe you and look what happened?!” Bluestar snapped. “Clearly you are the cat StarClan wanted to lead from the beginning. So lead.”

With those words, Bluestar flicked her tail and dismissed Fireheart from her den.

Outside, Fireheart stood, stiff and quiet, as if a tree’s roots had sprung from the ground and wrapped themselves around his legs.

“She can’t be serious.” He whispered after a few moments of his heart thudding in his ears. “She can’t be. There has to be another choice.”

“It sounds like she wants you.” Darkstripe sneered.

“Foxdung to that!” Fireheart snapped. “I have spent the last few moons running around doing my part to make sure the Clan runs smoothly, trying to make sure Tigerclaw didn’t hurt anyone else, and training three apprentices, one whose training ended due to another one of Tigerclaw’s mouse-brained fox-hearted plots and you all think I’m going to lead you? I’d rather go back to being an apprentice than lead such an ungrateful group of cats anywhere! Pick someone else and hope you all don’t fall apart because Bluestar won’t get any better.”

With those words, Fireheart stormed for the gorse tunnel and out of the camp.

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He didn’t really know where he was going until he stopped and found himself at Fourtrees, the neutral Gathering place of all four Clans. Right now it stood empty and was the perfect place to think.

“This can’t be all I’m good for. This isn’t what I was meant to do. StarClan can’t have chosen me. For what?”

“It’d be a good idea to find out.” A slightly welcome and familiar voice offered.

Fireheart whipped around, fur bushed up and claws unsheathed.

“What?” He snapped, annoyed.

“It’d be a good idea to find out.” Dustpelt said again. The dark brown tabby looked uncomfortable as he spoke and Fireheart couldn’t help but wonder who sent him.

“I’m not even your apprentice anymore and you’re still wearing me out.” Cinderpelt panted as she limped into the clearing.

Ah. That made sense.

“Sandstorm’s around here somewhere. She’s the one who led us to you, but she wasn’t sure if she’d be welcome.”

“And you two thought you were?”

“I’m always welcome.” Cinderpelt snorted. “Dustpelt wanted to talk to you.”

“Did he?” Fireheart scoffed, letting his fur relax. “What about? And what would be the point of having Sandstorm lead you here if she’s not going to show herself?”

He raised his voice for the last part and watched as a pale ginger form slunk through the treetops and skipped down one of the trunks to join them.

“Well met, Fireheart.” She offered courteously.

“Indeed. What are you all here for? I’d rather not have to deal with whatever mess someone made at camp.”

“Well, originally we came to make sure you didn’t do something stupid, like cross into another Clan’s territory, but Fourtrees is as good a spot as any.”

“It is. You can go now. I might leave, but I’m not that quite enough of a fox-heart to send you all to war.”

“Leave?” Dustpelt scoffed. “And go where? You’re no kittypet-.”

“Wow, what a turn-around. Seasons on seasons of the same old insults and you only admit the truth when you need me to do something for you. Great to know. But there are more than just housecats in the Twolegplace.”

“Are you taking Cloudpaw with you?”

“If he wants to leave the Clan, he’s welcome to join me, but he’d be going straight back to his mother.”

Dustpelt scowled and burst out,

“I can’t believe you’re actually considering this. You’ve been here your whole life-.”

“No, I haven’t.” Fireheart corrected numbly.

“Close to. You’ve been a Clan cat longer than you’ve been anything else and you’re just going to leave that behind? For what, because of a few insults?”

“It’d be one thing if it were just you that I were dealing with.”

“Why does it sound like there’s more to this?” Sandstorm asked.

“I’m surprised you’re not on his side.”

“There is no side, Fireheart, we need you!” Sandstorm snapped. “As a Clanmate, whether you’re our deputy or not. But Bluestar seems to think you should be. Why? And why don’t you want to be?”

“Bluestar’s still sick, isn’t she?” Cinderpelt realized. “This is more than just greencough.”

“It’s been, what, two or three moons since Tigerclaw left. I’m tired of running interference for cats who don’t know what it takes to deal with Bluestar when she’s like this. When she’s paranoid.” He added. “So I’ve stepped down as deputy and you all can choose among yourselves.”

“But you’re coming back, right? You’ll still be a warrior.” Sandstorm insisted.

“Maybe. I could just as easily find Barley and be a barn cat. I hear he’s got great hunting.”

“Fireheart-.”

“I need to think. You should get back to camp. Cats will actually wonder where you’ve gone.”

“Fireheart-.”

“Let’s just go.” Dustpelt ground out. “He clearly doesn’t want to hear from us.”

The three of them left with Dustpelt in the lead, each cat more reluctant than the last.

“Peace and quiet.” Fireheart grumbled as he settled himself to the ground and stewed in his thoughts.

If only the quiet was enough.

At some point, his paws lead him back to camp with a mouthful of prey. He puts it on the pile and settles himself at the center of the camp. It wasn’t particularly cold, being green-leaf and all. And he didn’t want to face any cat until he absolutely had to and was trying to put that off for as long as possible.

He drifted off without interference and woke to moonlight streaming through the trees overhead.

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“This isn’t what we wanted for you.” came a familiar raspy voice.

“Right back at you.” Fireheart grumbled, shifting so that he could face the former medicine cat properly.

“Fair enough. Fire was supposed to save the Clan, not be trampled underpaw.”

“Sorry.” Fireheart mumbled, ears heating up. Whitestorm wouldn’t flounder like he’d been.

“Not your fault.” Yellowfang rebuked. “There is still a chance, though. You’re not snuffed out yet, Flame. Show those cats why.”

Fireheart sniffled and inhaled Yellowfang’s scent. He felt like half a cat, whatever these ancestors thought.

“Sandstorm is a good cat.” Yellowfang said out of nowhere. “If anyone can help you through this, it’s her.”

“Funny that you think so.” Fireheart snorted. “But I guess I’ll make like a fish and bite. What are you on about?”

“She’ll be a valuable ally, to start with. And a good friend, if you let her.”

“If I let her. One of the cats who made fun of me for my entire kithood suddenly wants to be friends?”

“You saved her life at the gorge. That caused her to re-evaluate some things.”

“Right. Good to know.”

“Give it time, she’ll prove me right.”

“That’s about as likely as Bluestar reuniting with her kits.”

“That’s cold, kit.” Yellowfang scowled. “She’s not well, you know that.”

“Stars above, do I know.” Fireheart groaned. “I don’t have to be deputy up here, do I?”

“You don’t belong up here.”

“But no one expects me to do anything big here. I can just be a normal warrior with no expectations, no cats begging for patrols or food or anything else.”

“You can’t stay here, kit.”

“I’m tired, Yellowfang. I don’t want to be deputy. I’m not even sure I want to be a warrior.”

“I know, kit… I know. You can’t stay here, though. You have to wake up, Fireheart.”

“Wake up!” Chanted some bodiless voices around him. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up, Fireheart! Wake up!”

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“Wake up!” Came Sandstorm’s voice.

Fireheart’s eyes snapped open and, sure enough, Sandstorm crouched before him, worry leaking from every hair on her pelt.

“What happened?” Fireheart groaned as he got to his paws.

“Stay down, nothing’s wrong with the Clan.” Sandstorm insisted, guessing correctly.

“Then what’d you want?”

“I… you stopped breathing a few heartbeats ago. I thought you were on your way to StarClan.”

Fireheart decided it probably wasn’t a good idea to tell her about seeing Yellowfang.

“Nope.” He grumbled, ambling to his paws and shaking each one out. “Anything happen overnight?”

“No.”

The pair settled onto the grass as sunlight peeked between the trees.

“It’s just about dawn. Have patrols been worked out?”

“Mousefur and Breezefoot are doing the border patrols today and Speckletail and Goldenflower handle hunting. We plan in pairs and rotate. Start from one end of the dens and go to the other. It’s been working, for now.”

“Sounds good. Feel free to say I’m on one of those.”

“You’re going for a walk?”

“Yes.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Sure.” Fireheart muttered, more than a bit confused.

“Give me a few heartbeats.”

Fireheart nodded and Sandstorm wheeled around, racing for the warriors’ den.

He didn’t have to wait long before she came back.

“Let’s go.” She chirped.

The pair headed for the gorse tunnel and soon the ravine was far behind them.

“Do you want the center nest?” Sandstorm asked suddenly.

“What for? I don’t even know if I’m staying.”

“But if you are…”

“No, I don’t want the center nest. That’s Tigerclaw’s nest.”

“It’s the deputy’s nest. It could just as easily be Whitestorm’s or Mousefur’s.”

“It should be.”

“Bluestar won’t talk to anyone, not even Whitestorm. She only wants to see you.”

“Well that bites like trout scales.” Fireheart deadpanned.

“What?”

“It’s a RiverClan saying. Means that’s not a good thing. But what am I supposed to do about it?”

“Depends on what you’re willing to do.”

“Apparently it’s not about willing.”

“We can rotate on handling Bluestar, we can keep track of our own patrols, we can scour every step of the territory to make sure Tigerclaw isn’t a problem anymore-.”

“Aren’t you already doing that? What do you need me for?”

“To speak for us. Officially. No Clan is considered complete without a leader and a deputy. It’s why the Code is so strict about the line of succession.”

“ShadowClan was complete and look what that got them.”

“Fair enough. That rule in particular can go eat mouse-dung.”

“Apparently there’s some medicine cat rule that means they can’t make their own families. Seems kind of weird to draw the line at mates and kits when cats are rarely born alone. Is Cinderpelt not allowed to acknowledge Frostfur as her mother? Or Thorn, Bracken, and Bright as her siblings?”

“When you put it that way, it doesn’t seem fair.” Sandstorm mused. “I didn’t know that was a rule. Poor Spottedleaf must have been so alone after Redtail died, especially if the medicine cat rules say she can’t acknowledge Willowpelt.”

“Now Willowpelt is pretty alone, I guess. Except for Whitestorm, so maybe not for long. Ugh, I am not looking forward to Cloudpaw asking where kittens come from.”

“Where do kittens come from, Fireheart?” Sandstorm snickered.

“The nursery.” Fireheart deadpanned.

“Good choice.”

“Simple and has the bonus of being true.”

“How do they get to the nursery?”

“That’s a completely different question. And their mothers carry them, of course. Mothers carry their kits everywhere.”

“Inside and out!” Sandstorm cackled. “Oh, Fireheart, this is brilliant! You have got to let me know when Cloudpaw starts asking around. I want to see his face.”

“I’ll consider it.” Fireheart snorted, amused. “Might be better to let his mother handle that one. Princess is rather blunt and not very faint-hearted. She worries for us, of course, but she’s got her own way of explaining the facts of life.”

“Definitely take me with you next time you see her.” Sandstorm was giddy with laughter and excitement. “Tulipwood could have used this on me and I wouldn’t have known the difference!”

“Your mother?”

“Yes. She was from Mousefur’s litter. She died not long before I was apprenticed. It was a hard leaf-bare.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It was a while ago. Besides, I still have Mousefur, Breezefoot, Whitepelt, and Sparrowpelt.”

“I only know Mousefur.” Fireheart offered apologetically.

“You know all of them. Elders can change their names when they retire. Sparrowpelt lost his tail to a badger and Whitepelt is pretty much blind and deaf.”

“Halftail and One-eye.” Fireheart realized, breathless. “Are all names so cruel?”

“They named themselves. It’s Clan tradition, and who are we to go against our elders?”

“Clan tradition doesn’t always mean it’s right.” Fireheart scowled.

“Bluestar was right to choose you.” Sandstorm said, obviously changing the subject.

“What?”

“Bluestar was right to choose you, even if she did it past moon-high. You’ve been doing such a good job that no one saw how much stress you were under until you cracked… I’m sorry I didn’t see it before.”

“It wasn’t for you to see.” Fireheart admitted. “I didn’t want anyone to see.”

“I… that’s fair. You’ve been under a lot of pressure. I just… let me know before you leave again.”

“What?”

“Tell me when you feel like leaving and I won’t stop you. With the way things are going, I might even scoop up Cloudpaw and come with you.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s your nephew. He’d miss you if you left.”

“He has family here. And in Twolegplace.”

“Ever since he found out he was adopted, he hasn’t been as open with anyone else. He could go back to his mother, but I doubt he would truly be happy as a house-cat. He likes to explore.” Sandstorm deadpanned, recalling when she and Fireheart went looking for three adventurous kittens, one of whom successfully caught prey.

“He sure does.” Fireheart agreed with a laugh, recalling the exact same thing. “Why would you want to come with me?”

Sandstorm was quiet as they walked and she spoke after they passed a few trees.

“I’d miss you. If you left. Even if you did tell me before you went, I… I don’t think I can see ThunderClan lasting much longer without you.”

“So you’d want to get out while you can?”

“No, I’d want to go with you.” She insisted.

“Why?”

“Because I… I think you’re a good cat, Fireheart. And I’d be willing to follow you wherever you felt like you needed to be.”

Fireheart narrowed his eyes and snorted.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” He offered neutrally.

“A race might.”

“What?”

“Help me sleep better.”

“You’ve always been faster than me.”

“Well, then, I guess it’ll be a hunting race. Whoever brings the most prey back to camp at sunset gets a favor.”

“You’re on!” Fireheart crowed.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

Cloudpaw sat at the center of the camp when Fireheart and Sandstorm returned with their hunting wares. His fur bristled with excitement and his eyes were wide with determination. He fidgeted from time to time, something that the cats around him didn’t appreciate.

“Relax, Cloud! Either he’ll come back or he won’t and if he doesn’t come back by moon-high, he probably won’t ever.” Ashpaw scoffed.

“You shut your muzzle before I bury it in the dirtplace!”

“That’s not how you talk to your Clanmates.” Sandstorm called out, voice muffled by the mound of prey she carried in her jaws. Once all of their collective stash was on the fresh-kill pile, she turned to talk to the apprentices.

“Apologize, Cloudpaw. What you said was inappropriate. No one should be shoving anyone’s muzzle anywhere near the dirtplace unless it’s to cough up a hairball or gag.”

“Ew!” The apprentices groaned in a chorus.

“Exactly.” Sandstorm snorted, satisfied. “And I heard what you said to Cloudpaw, Ashpaw. That was not okay. You need to apologize to him as well.”

The apprentices exchanged half-hearted apologies, even though Ashpaw protestested while doing so.

“It’s not like Fireheart is coming back. You heard him just like everyone else. He hates us all.”

“If that were the truth I’d have left you to Tigerclaw a long time ago.” Fireheart muttered, irritated, before springing from behind the nursery and creeping toward the apprentices.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Dustpelt does.”

“I doubt that.”

“I’m going to tell him you said that.”

“Go ahead.” Sandstorm scowled through gritted teeth. “Though I can’t say you’ll have much of a mentor to run to.”

Fireheart fought the urge to snort and decided to change his approach.

“Leave the kits to their dreams, Sandstorm. Everyone’s got to look up to someone.”

“Fireheart!” Cloudpaw screeched, bowling him over. Several heads popped out of various dens and soon the clearing was filled with cats.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry please don’t ever leave again-.”

“-don’t know how you handled all these patrols-.”

“-Bluestar is just not herself at all, how did we not notice?!”

“Back up!” Greystripe snapped suddenly. “Let Fireheart breathe. And he might listen better if he knew what you were saying.”

“Right, because you always know what he’s doing and when and how he feels about it.” Mousefur snorted.

“Because he looks overwhelmed.” Sandstorm corrected quietly. “Just this once, I agree with Greystripe.”

She turned to Fireheart to find that he’d since sat up and was now curled around Cloudpaw, who sniffled and clung to his fur.

“-I wasn’t exactly using my head at the time, kit. I panicked and that was the result. I didn’t think I’d need as long as I did but I also didn’t want you to see me like that. Yelling at the entire Clan was bad enough.”

“But you left without saying anything! And then you didn’t come back for days! I only didn’t get to look for you because Sandstorm wouldn’t let me. She kept saying you were okay.”

“And you didn’t believe her because you never believe anyone about anything.” Fireheart snorted fondly.

“I believe you.”

“I know you do.”

“I think you’re a good deputy.”

“I think that Bluestar forgot to ask if I wanted the job.”

“Well, you proved everyone wrong. Now they know we need you, just like I do.”

“Good to hear, Cloud, but I do believe that moon-high approaches.”

“Aw, no!” Cloudpaw half-whined half-snarled.

“Now, Cloudpaw, you know Whitestorm planned to train you with Brightpaw-.” Brindleface began.

“Fireheart won’t be here tomorrow if I go to sleep. You all ran him off and we’re lucky he spent the day with Sandstorm.”

“Cloudpaw, what are you talking about? He’s right here. You knew he was going to come back, you said it yourself.”

“I said he would come back, not that he would stay.” Cloudpaw retorted icily. “I won’t be late for training tomorrow, just let me talk to him a bit more.”

“Slow down, Cloudpaw.” Fireheart murmured. “No one’s in trouble. You can talk to me whenever you like.”

“They ran you off!”

“I’m pretty sure I used my own four legs, kit.” The ginger tom chuckled.

“You don’t like it here, though.” Cloudpaw insisted.

“I like ThunderClan just fine. Things just aren’t going all that well for everyone and I wasn’t handling it like I should have. I needed space and I got it.”

“So you’re not going to be a loner?”

“Nope. But I’ll let you know if I’m going away for longer than the sun is up. You need your sleep.”

“Okay.” Cloudpaw said simply. The white tom got to his paws and trudged for the medicine den, only looking back once to make sure his uncle was really there.

“I almost forgot what that felt like.” Fireheart grumbled, annoyed, and swiped his tongue against his teeth as if there were a bad taste on it.

“Forgot what?”

“Cats who live with Twolegs give up all rights to their litters after the kits are weaned off milk. Usually the Twolegs are generous and let them have long enough for the kits to be taught some things, but it’s pretty well-known that there’s a deadline. It’s why my sister asked me to take Cloud in the first place. She wanted to make sure at least one of her kits was someplace she could find. It’s safe to say that Cloudpaw feels differently about family than the rest of you and that he’ll always want to be around the cats he’s closest to.”

“You said you almost forgot.” Swiftpaw noted. “Did… did you get taken from your mother too?”

“Everyone does at some point. It’s like leaving the nursery to go to the apprentice den.”

“That’s not the same at all.” Longtail sputtered. “When you first came to the Clan… you never mentioned any family. How long had you been alone?”

“Had to be two or three moons, I think. It’s a bit foggy, but I know my sister and I are the spitting image of our parents. At least, according to the cats around town.”

“So you just… never saw your entire family again?”

“I’ve seen Princess a few times when I was younger. And she gave me Cloud.”

“It’s different.” Goldenflower choked out. “Fireheart, I couldn’t imagine giving up my kits. How did your mother ever cope with not seeing you at all? How is your sister faring with what amounts to the loss of an entire litter?”

“Feel free to come ask her if I ever meet up with her again, because I’m not touching that with a Twoleg stick even if you gave me all your fresh-kill.”

“I think I would like to meet this sister of yours.” Brindleface mused. “She must know so much about Cloudpaw, maybe she’ll be able to help him through this.”

“No wonder he was so upset all this time.” Fernpaw realized. “Fireheart is all he has and the rest of the cats he’s surrounded by don’t like him.”

“It’s not that we don’t like him-.”

“You never liked him.” Sandstorm insisted bluntly. “I’m not exactly blameless in any of this but I can admit Fireheart got piled on like a patrol trying to take down a dog.”

“And… so did….” Swiftpaw offered in an odd voice.

“Hey, Cloudpaw!” He called, springing to his paws and racing for the medicine cat den.

#warrior cats stand up reject the deputy #warrior cats stand up #wolf says fuck canon warcats #let cats react appropriately and with common sense

[miauslifecom-blog]

A Brief History Of Cats

Who were these very first cats? The very first hint depends on where farming was first

practiced. Farming initially settled (no pun planned) in the Middle East in a terrific

sweep from modern Turkey to Egypt. Within this location varies the African wild cat,

Felis libyca. African wild cats are somewhat bigger that our contemporary home cats and are

yellow in color with soft stripes. These cats have a docile, practically laid back nature.

Surprisingly, these cats still tend to live and hunt near human houses today. Residents

still like to capture and rear young wild cats as family pets. When fully grown, wild cats raised by

people tend to act quite like our familiar housecats. A great case can (and.

has actually) been advanced designating Felis libyca as the primary establishing population for.

domestic cats. A minimum of 2 other ranges of wild cat are hypothesized to have actually contributed.

to the hereditary comprise of domestic cats. One is Felis silvestris, The European wildcat.

who appears to have actually contributed darker markings and a peppery spirit to the African wild.

cat base. Likewise, from Asia, comes the Pallas or Steppe cat (Felis manul) that appears to.

have actually contributed long-haired coats to the mix.

It appears odd that there was ever a time when cats were not a part of our lives.

It's been less that 10,000 years considering that cats swaggered into our lives. Barely an eye blink in

the grand sweep of life on this world. Why were cats so late to join our group? The basic

response is they didn't require us to make it through. cats were enduring simply great by themselves. Then,

individuals developed farming. Farming led to big scale storage of grains which

drew in the normal and popular group of freeloaders, mice and rats. Grain drew in

rodents. Rodents drew in cats who consider them yummy meals. The outcome was that cats

established housekeeping near to human settlements. Ultimately, cats being cats, moved right

on in.

The early duration of domestication of cats is unclear with just spots of proof.

Nevertheless, by 6,000 B.C. statues discovered in Anatolia (modern-day Turkey) reveal ladies playing.

with domestic cats. cats had actually plainly ended up being typical and caring animals by that time.

The earliest composed records about cats appear by roughly 4,000 B.C. in Egypt.

where they were often kept to hunt mice and rats from kept grains. It was an excellent.

time to be a cat in ancient Egypt. Domestic cats were believed to be the personification of.

the goddess Bast (or Bastet). There was a necropolis at her primary temple at Bubastis.

which contained mummified cats.

The history of cats is a remarkable one, worthwhile of far more in depth research study. It.

promotes a gratitude for the characters and skills of our animals.

The Middle Ages it were a really hard time to be a cat. cats were stated to be witches.

familiars, in league with the devil. Because of this superstitious notion, cats were consistently eliminated.

throughout celebrations. Often they were even burned alive or shaken off high structures. The.

Europeans paid greatly for their ruthlessness to cats. The deaths of numerous cats permitted the.

rodent population to increase out of control, generating the Black Death which eliminated a lot.

of the European population. Ultimately, the cats' easily methods and searching expertise.

redeemed them in the eyes of individuals of Europe. By the 1600s, individuals in France started.

putting little holes near the bottom of their doors to enable their cats to get in and leave as.

they please.

In Asia cats continued to recognize hunters and valued animals. cats were typically.

topics for drawing and painting in China. In Japan, cats in the form of Maneki Neko,.

generally depicted as a sitting cat with one paw raised and bent, are thought about excellent.

fortune. They are typically discovered in organisations to attract cash.

Romans spread out the domestic cat northward into main Europe and westward to.

Britain throughout the growth of their empire. cats were rapidly embraced and appreciated as.

excellent hunters. And they continued to move north and east in Europe. The Vikings utilized.

cats as both rodent hunters and family pets. The Viking goddess of love and war, Freyja, was.

related to cats. Substantial winged cats drew her chariot. It likewise ended up being the customized to.

provide brand-new bride-to-bes a kitty in her name.

#cats #katzen #pets #animals #katze #cat

[gentlemanoftimetravel]

Dark Fairytale 🍄

Requested by @naomi-from-paleontology

Summary: Marinette steps into the center of a ring of mushrooms and is spirited away to a strange world with Felix as their guide.

I’m ether thinking about “Spirited Away” for obvious reasons or something like “the Wizard of Oz”. Maybe I can combine these two. And then suddenly I'm thinking about “Alice in Wonderland” ... Jep, I don’t know anymore ... welp ...

Let’s see how it will turn out!

Hope you enjoy!

————

Don’t go into the woods. Don’t stroll around. Don’t follow strange animals. Don’t do this. Don’t do that. Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.

Marinette was sick of hearing these. Ever since she was a small child she have the greatest adventures when her parents weren’t around. Fairy’s. Demons. Speaking Animals. Mermaids. Trolls. Sometimes even dragons!

But every time she tried to tell and show her parents nothing was there anymore. At first, her parents found her imagination great. But the older she gets, the lesser they liked it. And with time comes the ban. Marinette was no longer allowed to go into the woods. She was supposed to stay near her house. Forced to ignore her friends just beneath the surface. Forced to change herself. Forced to be someone else.

Needless to say she doesn’t liked that.

But the tip of the iceberg came when her parents decided that she should marry someone. Adrien Agreste. Someone who is exactly as oblivious as her parents. Who just thought about himself and his point of view. Someone she knew she could never get as happy as with her friends.

So she made a decision.

~~

She pants. Ever so often she turned around just to make sure that nobody follows her. She ran deeper and deeper into the forest. She follows the voices from her friends and they led her to a glade.

She stumbles right into the opening. When she fell to the ground, she saw some toadstools. As if they were circling the clearing all around.

How strange.

Somewhere deep down in her memory she rememberd a fairytale that began with circle of mushrooms. But she can’t remember how it goes.

In that moment she hit the ground.

~~

Snickering.

Strange. Marinette is very sure that she is not giggling. In fact, she should be alone. Maybe she hit her head? But there’s more snickering. Possibly she should push herself up from the ground and look who’s there. Perhaps it is one of her friends.

As she sits up she stares right into piercing green eyes. Which sit in a head full of black fur. She blinks twice.

Another snicker emerged from that strange creature. She tilted her head.

“A cat?”

But there was more. No simple housecat had such a wide smile. And the eyes held an intelligence wich isn’t normal. She shivered. These cat where nothing like her former friends.

“Who are you?”

If possible the smile got even wider. The cat stretched and strolls a few steps away. It stopped and looked back to Marinette, then to the entrance of the forest and back to Marinette. As if she should follow.

Marinette blinked again. “You know what? I have no idea what’s going on but fine, I follow you.” Marinette stands up and nods. The cat happily waging its tail and started walking again.

From time to time it’s checking if Marinette is still behind him. As some time passed and the sun is beginning to meet the horizon they entered a small colourful village.

The cat leads her past stores, a fountain, a church, the townhall -if she’s not misled- and beautiful flower fields. At the end of the village the cat walks to a lovely house with an large garden. At the door he stops one last time. He looked back to Marinette and puts a paw at the door. And then he meowed. It sound as false and irritating as the whole story.

“Really?” Marinette raised an eyebrow. “But fine.” She knocked and waited.

She heared footsteps at the other side of the door. As the front door swings open she looked into the face of a young man. The ice blue eyes held something familiar.

“Plagg, why didn’t you ...” he trailed of as he noticed her. “Marinette? Marinette is it really you? Oh Plagg, where did you find her?” With joy he jumped to her and hugged her.

“Should I know you? You obviously knew me, so I guess I should?”

“Marinette, it’s me. Felix! We played together as kids. Don’t you remember?”

“Not really, sorry.” she said with an apologetic smile.

His smile dropped for a second only to come back at full force a moment later.

“Then let us refresh your memory! Tomorrow. For now, come in and eat dinner with me.”

He took her hand and led her inside.

~~

The next morning Felix guided her to a small spring. The pink cherry trees were in full bloom. Some of the flowers slowly fell down to the water surface.

“What am I supposed to see here?”

With a soft smile Felix only puts an finger to his lips and points to his ear. She concentrates her senses at the sounds around her. Just when she thought she would never hear something, she heard a little giggle. She looked in the direction of that sound. At that moment she spotted colourful little lights. The first moment she thought of fireflys but quickly she corrects herself.

“These are Fairies!” her eyes grow wide.

The little fairies came closer and closer. Some of them buzzed around her. A very brave one approached her and touched her cheek. She giggled and flew back to her sisters.

“Felix! It is amazing! Can we stay a little? Please?”

Felix smiles and nodded.

~~

The next day Felix led her to a graveyard. Today Plagg come along.

“What will you show me here?”

“Demons!” he said with sparkle in his eyes.

Marinette opened her mouth, shakes her head and shuts her mouth again. She will find out soon enough. As they were in the middle Felix stops.

“Plagg, now!”

With a big grin Plagg starts to shake. His contours became blurred. Now he’s a cat shaped black smoke. With piercing and shining green eyes and sparkling sharp white teeth. Little wisps of green smoke trailed of his body. On each cheek he grow one long whiskers, black at the beginning and neon green at the end.

Just as Marinette wanted to say something, Felix whistles. Everwhere behind tombstones, the shadows began to move.

More and more creatures, no demons she corrects herself, began floating towards her. She took a step back.

“Don’t be afraid. They are friendly. Most, at least.”

“Felix!”

He snickered. “I’m serious. They won’t harm you, I swear.”

Despite everything, Marinette had a nice day with demons in the cemetery.

~~

“What will you show me today Felix?”

“I thought we can go to the beach.”

“Oh ... I thought ... Nevermind. Let’s go!”

She linked arms with Felix and they walked down to the ocean. They took a little walk along the beach. When Felix led them around the next corner they reached a bay. Palm trees provide shades. Some rocks break through the water surface and seagulls are sitting in the trees.

It is a beautiful and quiet place.

Felix conjures a picnic basket from somewhere and smiles.

“Come here, sweetheart. I packed something, let us have lunch.”

“With pleasure!” Marinette smiled.

They searched for a shady spot and made themselves comfortable. After some time she heard something.

“Felix what is ...”

“Shhhhh! Just watch!” he said with a wink.

She notices movement on the water surface. Every now and then glittering scales break through the surface. Suddenly a bunch of mermaids appear and group around the rocks. They chatted happily.

“Mermaids!” shout Marinette.

The group of girls startled and looked over to the pair. Marinette claps her hands above her mouth. Some of the girls trailed away but one had a curios look in her eyes. She chirped and receives approval sounds.

The little Mermaid approaches the shore and in a sing-song voice asked: “Marinette?”

Marinettes eyes went wide. She glanced at Felix. “You know me? That means I was here before. When?”

“About two decades ago. We were still kids. We three had amazing days back then. Playing here in the bay. You two learning how to swim. Picknicks. And suddenly it stopped. Felix came by from time to time but you never showed up after that last day. We didn’t know what happened to you and we just hoped that you were alright and that you will show up someday. And there you are. Grown up. Beautiful. But still the same Marinette from back when we were kids.”

“I .... I don’t ... know what to say. I can’t remember much from my childhood. My parents wouldn’t let me go away from the house but apparently I sneaked away? I ....” she huffed. “I just don’t know anymore. Give me time. Maybe I will remember but even if not, we still can make new ones. Okay?”

The mermaid smiled wide. “Yes!”

“But not now. Felix could we ... I think I need time to think about all of today’s events.”

She looked back to the little mermaid. “But I will come back. I promise!”

With that Marinette turned and rushed back to Felix's house.

~~

“Marinette? I want to show you one last thing. Maybe after what you will see today your memory will come back.”

With that Felix reaches out his hand. Marinette considered and took his hand. Whatever he wanted to show her it will be worth it. They walked up the hill and a strong breeze trailed around their bodies.

A big shadow flies over them. As Marinette looked up she saw a majestic dragon. She gasped. She wanted to say something but she heard only a crackling. But not loud for everyone’s ear, it’s just something inside her. Her vision went black. When she wakes up she finds herself in Felix embrace. A concerned look on his face.

“Felix? I think I remember. I finally remember everything. But how. Why now?”

“You were under a spell. I guess that’s your parents fault. I didn’t know exactly how to break it but I figured if I’d repeat your lost memory it will eventually come back. Seems like the dragon had the biggest impression on you. I’m a little bit offended that it was not me. But I’m just happy that I have my Marinette back.”

“Me too! I finally remember everything and now I know the reason why I could not stand it at home anymore. It’s because I missed something in my life and that was you. When the last weeks were any indicators, I want to be with you. I think I fell for you over the past few weeks. Felix? I don’t want to go back, I want to stay here.”

“I will never let you go away from me again. Live with me here and be happy. Let us be together for eternity in our beautiful own kingdom of magic.”

With that Felix leans in and kissed Marinette.

————

That’s it folks. That’s the second ‘dark’ fairytale prompt. I think it weren’t as dark as it should be supposed. I just had the need to write some ‘magic’ and fluff. If you want more story’s from that prompt list please let me know!

Wow, this story took me on a rollercoaster. So many ideas, so little space. I was really close to the end of the story just when tumblr told me I hit the 'block' limit. So I need to compress some spaces. But I finally made it to an end and it got really long.

I hope you liked it. Please tell me what you think about this.

And have a wonderful day!

#felix au #felinette #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #felix culpa #dark fairytaile #twisted fairytale #it got so long #have a beautiful day

[etlunainmorte]

✒ P.S. I Love You ✒

***

IX

***

A few moments later, V found himself back to the door of (Y/N)'s room. He half expected that something would happen once more but, the way things were going, with all the spy cameras scattered about the place and Nico's close watch with them, he knew he wouldn't see anything this time. He opened door, stepped inside, and closed it once more,...

"Lady (Y/N)!"

"Wait a second!" That sweet and familiar female voice called as V found himself plunged once more into (Y/N)'s past. But, this time, he noticed a change in the atmosphere: it was much livelier, and he could feel the excitement going about the place.

Then, to V's utter surprise, the girl, herself, came out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel draped around her body. She ran hysterically towards the rose wood cabinet and practically threw the doors open in search of something decent to wear.

And as he fully expected, (Y/N) removed her little towel and let it fall on the ground next to her feet, revealing her naked form in all its breathtaking glory.

With a wildly racing heart, wide dilated eyes, and an uncomfortable feeling of warmth that was rapidly building on his crotch, he quickly turned away from the lovely sight. But, the sound of soft fabric grazing against her skin and the overwhelming scent of her favorite floral liquid soap tempted him and lured him to look once more.

And when he couldn't resist it anymore, he gave in to his desires and human needs and laid his eyes onto her beautiful form.

For a few moments of pure torture and ecstasy ( mostly caused by the sudden hardness in the middle of his pants ), he watched her as she put on some clothes: a (F/C) dress that was most probably all the rage in the late 1800s and a pair of matching shoes. She, then, went over to her vanity table with the ornate mirror and sat down on the chair. And as she took her brush and began going through the tangles in her (H/C) hair, V could not help but stare at her and be closer to her.

With gentle eyes full of adoration, he watched her as she carefully brushed her hair and put on some very light makeup. He even felt his body relax as she sprayed some perfume on her neck, its floral scent filling both the pastel - colored room and his nostrils. She looked truly mesmerizing.

And when she got up, he followed her, and it led both of them outside the room.

"Mister Sandman! Mister Sandman,..."

V heard a familiar song in the distance but, unfortunately, he unintentionally ignored it as he saw the huge change in the second floor. The once dark and dusty hallway was now very much alive with the red carpet that adorned the floor and the colorful paintings that hung on the wall, not to mention the lights that illuminated the place and made everything bright.

(Y/N) turned to her left and started walking.

"W - wait! P - please,..." V stuttered as he held out a hand towards her. Almost forgetting that she couldn't hear him, he just followed her downstairs where a group of people has already gathered for some nice talks. He tried his best to follow her but, this place seemed to make his body feel heavy, and it terribly slowed him down. He saw her navigate her way through the crowd of formally - dressed ladies and gentlemen, and V did his best to catch up to her. "(Y/N),..." He called once more. "Please,..."

"Mister Sandman! Mister Sandman,... "

She made her way towards the library and music room where more people were gathered. However, V noticed that most of the guests here were female. As she stood on her toes to try and see through the crowd of excited females, V craned his neck to see what's the fuss all about.

Standing next to the grand piano was a single male who was surrounded by blushing females of high fashion who kept asking him questions but, he couldn't hear his voice, at all, due to the sea of excited chatter by these females, and some disgruntled noises coming from a few group of men who seemed jealous of the man in the middle of it all.

"(Y/N), why are you late?!" A dark - haired female, who was as short as (Y/N), shoved a few blushing teenage girls who wore too much rouge that made their cheeks look like overripe apples and made her way towards her at the back.

"Daniella! How long have you been in here?" (Y/N) screamed in response so she could be heard.

The girl named Daniella just rolled her eyes. "I'm a simple girl. I get wind of a celebrity visiting my best friend's house and I immediately run to get there to meet him. Anyway, let's get you there! He must definitely see you! These simpletons are killing me!" She grabbed (Y/N)'s left arm and they both made their way through the crowd as she shoved more ladies aside to make way for the both of them.

"Mister Sandman! Mister Sandman,..."

V made a huge effort to go after the two girls, and as he got closer and closer to the mystery guest, he felt his body getting more and more heavy. And then, he heard it,...

"Mr. Blake, are you related to that English poet, William Blake?" A curious gentleman, who got weird looks from the ladies around him, asked the guest.

"I' am pretty sure I'm not." Mr. Blake answered.

"Mr. Blake, can you, please, quote something from William Blake?" An excited lady beside the curious gentleman requested.

V heard him chuckle as he was getting closer. He, then, heard the man as he cleared his throat and began reciting through memory alone.

"I curse,… my stars in bitter grief,... and woe,... that,... made my love,... so high,...and me,... so low,..."

"Oh, my God, that seductive voice! He's such a charmer!" Daniella breathed her admiration. She turned to her friend and dragged her once more as other ladies started requesting Mr. Blake to recite more poems. "Come on, let's get going!"

"Mister Sandman! Mister Sandman,..."

"Can you quote another one, please?"

"Of course, my fair lady. As the air to a bird,... or the sea to a fish,... so is contempt,... to the contemptible,..."

"How about a poem of love?"

There was a moment of silence from the man, and as he was about to speak, Daniella bravely called his name.

"Victor!" She called. "Victor Blake!"

And then, V finally saw him as he turned.

Wavy shoulder length hair as dark as the night. Gentle, and yet deep and intimidating, eyes that gleamed like a pair of emeralds. Hollow cheeks that formed dimples when he opened his mouth in awe of what he just saw.

It was him.

The supple lips of the poet named Victor Blake formed a mischievous, and yet endearing, smirk as he left the group of women who was barraging him with a lot of requests and questions to make his way closer to where V, Daniella, and (Y/N) were.

And as he playfully twirled a familiar - looking metal cane with his long and slender fingers and made his way to them, he began quoting.

"The modest rose,... puts forth a thorn,... the humble sheep,... a threat'ning horn." He recited, his voice pure honey to everyone's ears. "While the lily white,... shall in love delight,... " He, then, stopped right where (Y/N) was as he looked down at her. " ...nor a thorn nor a threat,..." The women squealed in delight while some snickered in envy as Victor Blake kneeled before (Y/N) and gently took her dainty hand in his huge and calloused ones. " ...stain her beauty bright." And as he ended the poem, he placed a chaste peck on the back of her hand, making her cheeks red and her eyes widen.

"Mister Sandman! Mister Sandman!"

"WAKE THE FUCK UP, V!"

V's eyes flicked open as he felt a jolt of electricity run through his body. He realized he was lying on the floor while Griffon was flapping his wings hysterically above him.

"F - FINALLY!" The demonic bird practically screamed at him, his voice seemingly cracking. "Now, ah, I know it won't be too much of a bother but, CAN YA DO SOMETHIN' 'BOUT THAT DAMN WOMAN 'CAUSE SHE CAN'T BE FUCKIN' KILLED?!"

V looked ahead just in time as he saw the horrifying face of the blonde bride he saw last night who was now crawling towards him like a huge demonic spider in pursuit of its prey. He drew back in terror as his eyes widened in terror at the look on her face: murderous, distorted, and outright unspeakable. He held out his cane in an effort to summon Shadow but, she just won't come out!

"THE HOUSECAT WON'T COME OUT NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES I CALL HER! THAT WON'T FUCKIN' WORK!" Griffon shrieked as the woman came closer and closer.

And then, V remembered,...

"And don't forget! In case of emergency, don't hesitate to push the button."

He felt the radio in his right hand and held it up. And with the last ounce of strength and bravery he had, he pushed the red emergency button and waited for something to -

"I'm lying alone with my head on the phone, thinking of you ‘till it hurts. I know you hurt too but what else can we do, tormented and torn apart?"

V cringed with the obnoxious sound that came out of the radio, and it startled both Griffon and the woman.

"I wish I could carry your smile in my heart for times when my life seems so low. It would make me believe what tomorrow could bring when today doesn't really know, doesn't really know! Ooh!"

V stood up and held the radio before the horrific woman like a Priest wielding a cross in front of a possessed maiden, making her stumble and cover her ears in fright of the horrible voice coming from Nico's gadget.

"I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you. I know you were right believing for so long. I'm all out of love, what am I without you? I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong!"

The woman opened her mouth and shrieked at V and the abominable thing in his hand and finally scrambled away from them in fear. Like the spider - like thing that she was, she crawled back to the room she came from and the moment the horrible singing was over, the hallway went back to normal and they saw the first glimpses of the early rays of sunrise peeking through the windows.

And as everything went back to normal, V collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. Griffon swooped down close to him to assist him.

"You okay, V?" His now calm familiar asked him.

"I' am." He simply answered. And just when Griffon was about to help V on his feet, they turned to their left and saw Nico making her way towards them as she ascended on the stairs. Her hair looked frizzier than ever and her clothes were torn in many places like she just escaped some maniac who was trying to kill her.

"What happened to ya?" Griffon asked her as he finally helped V up to his feet. "Ya looked like ya just went to hell and back!"

Nico sighed and pushed the rim of her now broken glasses to the bridge of her nose. "Don't ask." She said, then took a bent and worn - out looking cigarette from her pocket and tried to light it. And when she finally had a smoke, her body relaxed and her shoulders slumped. "What time is it?"

"How should I know?" The bird replied. “And who was that singin’ that horrible song on the radio?!”

“That’s Nero.” Nico confessed nonchalantly. “I recorded him while he was singin’ in the shower. Thought his singin’ might scare off the rats in the orphanage. Guess I was wrong. It scared off somethin’ much bigger.”

Nico looked around her, her bloodshot eyes roaming around the now bright area. She sighed once more and gestured for them to come down with her.

A few moments later, she placed an old wooden box on the table in the kitchen.

"And that is?" V mildly asked her.

Nico opened the box and what's inside it surprised all of them. There were a lot of old photographs,...

... of (Y/N), and,...

"V?! Is that,... you?!" Griffon questioned as Nico took the photos out of the box, scattering them on the table one by one.

"I stumbled upon these when I was hiding in a cupboard somewhere in this floor." She picked up the picture that the bird was referring to and showed it to them. "What can you say about this, V?"

The poet took the photograph from her hand and took a good long look at it, albeit hard.

And there's no use denying it. From his hair, to his face, from his posture, to the way he held his metal cane.

It truly was him.

Victor and him,...

... were the same person.

And that cane he was holding onto? That one he stole from an antique shop a month ago and used to kill off Demons?

It was the same cane on Victor’s grasp.

The cane in V's hand,..

... once belonged to Victor Blake.

And (Y/N)? She seemed to have fallen for him in that very recent vision he had.

Just like how he was beginning to really feel something truly unexplainable about her,...

***

✒ @la-vita and @micaelagua . ✒

***

✒✒✒

***

#devil may cry 5 #vitale sparda #p.s. i love you #v x reader #v x you #chapter 9 #victor blake

[annandrade1995]

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How To Remove Cat Spray From Wood

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How To Stop A Stray Cat From Spraying

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#Can My Cat Lick Frontline Spray Stunning Cool Tips #Cat Spraying Prozac

[let-me-be-soft]

Trying- Chapter 9

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Alya/Nino

Summary:

After 5 years of a never ending battle with Hawk Moth, the Akumas suddenly come to a stop. For 4 months Paris seems like it’s finally at peace, but it may turn out to be only the calm before the storm. When Alya starts to hear a familiar voice, she realizes very quickly that Hawk Moth is far from gone. Alya must resist the temptation to discover the truth behind Ladybug, but as her life slowly falls apart around her Hawk Moth’s grip only becomes stronger.

AO3            Fanfiction.net

There was a knock on the door.

“Just a minute!”

Nino watched the news as he made his way to the door. Ladybug and Chat Noir were in the middle of an akuma battle and the flashes of orange and smoke told him that Volpina was there too.

He opened the door still facing the TV, “Sorry I was just-”

No one was there.

Nino frowned and looked down the hallway, “Hello?” He was the only person there and all the other doors were closed. Maybe he had imagined the knock?

He was about to leave when he caught sight of an ornate red box on Adrien and his welcome mat. He bent down to pick it up and looked around again. “Did anyone leave this?” He called out once more, but just like before no one answered.

With one last look from the box to the hallway Nino went back to his couch and shut the door behind him. The akuma looked like it was wrapping up a monologue while it held Ladybug and Chat Noir helpless. He was worried until the flash of orange jumped in between the and villain the heroes, freeing Chat Noir in the process.

With a quiet sigh of relief he picked up the box alternating examining the decor on the outside and glancing up at the tv.

Nino found the hinge and opened it as a reporter came on the screen.

There was a flash of green light and Nino shielded his eyes momentarily. When he opened them he saw a jade green bracelet sitting inside the box and a floating green creature peering down at him.

To Nino, the creature looked like something Alya would buy for her sisters. A cute plushie to hang on a keychain, and he was more confused by how it was floating then what it was, that is, until it began to move and talk.

“Hello Chosen,” The creature nodded it’s head in a deep bow, “I am Wayzz-”

Nino lept over the back of the couch and crashed onto the floor with a yelp.

“Chosen?” Wayzz floated to peer over the couch.

“Who-Who are you?” Nino grabbed a pillow and held it up as a shield.

“I told you I am Wayzz.” Wayzz seemed to be a little shaken.

“Where do you come from?” Nino held the pillow a little closer to the creature, “What planet? Are you here to abduct me?”

Wayzz was at a complete loss, “Chosen I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What are you?” Nino was still hiding behind a cushion and let out another shriek as the creature floated through it.

“I’m a Kwami. A creature from another world who was granted access to yours to help humanity. I have served miraculous users for many many years and have been honoured to serve under guardians as well. You have been chosen to become the next miraculous user.”

“A what?!?”

Wayzz let out a short sigh and floated up over the couch, “Chosen look over here. See this TV where Ladybug and Chat Noir are fighting?”

Nino nodded silently, still a little frightened the creature was going to shoot laser beams or beam him onto a ship. Was he being a little crazy? Yes. But it wasn’t every day that a floating green creature with- Was that an antennae? No this was not normal. He was not acting crazy.

Wayzz looked at the frightened face of his chosen and sighed again, a little longer than the last one.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir have Kwami too. It is what gives them their power and their strength to fight.” Wayzz gave his chosen a gentle smile, “You have been chosen to wield this power too. The guardian and my previous owner has given me to you, to aid Ladybug and Chat Noir! To defeat Hawkmoth and save Paris! You are the next hero!”

“I’m a what?”

Wayzz forced himself not to sigh anymore, “If the Master chose you himself you must possess great talent and wisdom. Tell me Chosen, how much do you know of the miraculous?”

Nino’s blank stare and gaping mouth did not exactly inspire confidence in Wayzz.

“That is alright, these things can easily be learned. You must be a leader then! An excellent leader! Tell me Chosen what do you do for a living? Are you head a government or company? Do you perhaps lead people?”

Nino shook his head, “I’m a DJ.”

“Is this perhaps a breed of warrior?”

“No I play music. For people to dance to? At clubs?”

“Clubs? You play music to inspire fighting?”

“No!” Nino shook his hands finding his feet again, “It’s a place for people to go dancing. Dude I don’t do anything with fighting or leading. I think you're talking to the wrong person.”

Wayzz fell silent for a moment, “Could you perhaps be very athletic or strong?”

“No.”

“Maybe a good strategist?”

“I’ve never won a game of chess.”

“Maybe you are very charming? People like you a lot?”

Nino sighed, “I think you’re meant for my roomate. He fences and plays sports. He speaks something like 3 languages. He’s a model. You’ve probably even heard of him, Adrien Agreste. He’s the one that’s supposed to have all this power and strength or whatever.” Nino flopped down on the couch, “Guy deserves it too. He never got any of that freedom or power growing up. If you just wait around for a bit I’m sure he’ll show up. Hell, he’ll probably jump for joy when he hears this. He’s in love with Ladybug you know. Do you think you could set them up?”

Wayzz looked at his chosen who was smiling at him so sincerely. “Do you not want to be a hero?”

Nino looked at the Kwami in shock and then frowned in thought. “I don’t know. I guess it would be pretty cool. Who doesn’t want to be a superhero right? But I’m not the right guy for it, you should get someone who Ladybug and Chat Noir could use, not just some guy who thinks it would be fun.”

Wayzz smiled, “You are my Chosen. I see it clearly now.”

Nino raised an eyebrow, “Dude, I just told you all the reasons you shouldn’t pick me.”

“I am not the one who picks Chosen, the Master picked you for a reason, and he was right to wait to find you.”

“What? Why?” Nino sat up completely watching the smiling floating creature.

“You are a wise soul Chosen, and above that a kind one. You are the perfect match for me.”

“Wise? How am I wise? Dude I barely passed History in school!”

“Wisdom and knowledge are two different things Chosen.” Wayzz seemed to humm in glee as he spoke, “And your wisdom is the kind that hides deep inside and is shown through your every word and gesture.”

Nino wondered absently if eating pizza in his pajamas so that his clothes didn’t get stains counted as wise.

“I’ll take your word for it little green dude.”

“You will see soon enough Chosen.”

“Stop calling me that. Just call me Nino.”

“Your name is Nino?”

“Nino Lahiffe.”

Wayzz seemed to smile even larger at that and Nino watched on in confusion, “What? What did I say?”

A noise akin to a giggle left Wayzz, “You are the perfect chosen Nino. What luck the master found you.”

“Ladybug, how do you explain the sudden increase in Hawkmoth’s attacks on the city?”

Ladybug stood beside the reporter looking as professional and serious as she frequently was these days. When Alya was 15, Akuma attacks would happen maybe once a week, sometimes even longer apart, but after the 4 month hiatus of Hawkmoth, he returned with attacks happening twice a day sometimes. Paris was worried. Ladybug was worried. Alya was panicking. The voice in the back of her head came back every once and awhile, it would ask her again and again who the girl who sat beside her was, and even if her curiosity wanted her to remember something kept her from the answer. Maybe it was Fanna, maybe the Kwami knew that the answer would destroy them all.

Alya figured that it was something important, or Hawkmoth wouldn’t bothering with her brain so much. It was getting harder to keep him out. She still didn’t have a job, and with her roommate gone she needed to alter her living situation. She could feel him pushing at her thoughts when they would turn negative. As such she constantly distracted herself. She would spend almost every day with Nino, she would go with him to work, she would go for runs in the park, or train with Fanna. She always had to be doing something.

“We’ve never seen Hawkmoth so active. But this can also be our advantage, he’s getting bolder which means he’s getting more desperate. It won’t be long until he makes a mistake and when he does. Chat and I will be there to catch him.”

Chat Noir beamed beside Ladybug giving the camera a wink.

“But with the number of the attacks increasing aren’t you worried that you yourselves might slip up? Are we really any closer to finding Hawkmoth and ending him for good?”

Currently Alya was lying on Nino’s couch waiting for him to come back from “an emergency at work.” She wasn’t completely sure what emergencies could happen at a club that her DJ boyfriend could help with, but he had offered her a couch and a TV instead of going back to her apartment where she felt completely alone. At least Adrien was in the kitchen humming about something. It felt a lot warmer here then at her place.

“Chat Noir and I can handle anything Hawkmoth throws at us.”

“M’Lady is right. We can handle Hawkmoth, he hasn’t won in 5 years.”

Adrien walked in from the kitchen a bowl of carrots with hummus in one hand and a plate with two hot dogs, cheese and crackers, and apple slices. He plopped himself down on the couch and started eating, “Is this the akuma fight from before?”

“Yeah,” Alya stole a carrot and dipped it in hummus, “they just beat the akuma and Ladybug’s taking questions.” She reached over to take one of the hot dogs before Adrien hissed, “You have two!”

“Their mine!”

Alya took it anyway. She lived with an honest to god fox, Adrien hissing like a housecat didn’t scare her.

“Hawkmoth has never been this strong before, the people know your track record is good, but with things changing so rapidly can just the two of you handle him?”

Ladybug’s eyes narrowed and anger flashed across her face, Chat looked a little taken aback as well.

“I think-”

Ladybug was interrupted by a laugh and a toothy grin from Volpina, “Well it’s not just the two of them. They always have me to save their butts if things get rough.”

The news reporter turned her attention to the orange hero who had her flute hung over her shoulders, “Volpina do you think your presence helps the heroes stand a better chance against Hawkmoth?”

Volpina grinned, “I hope to be of service to Paris’s Dynamic Duo and the great city itself.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. Alya let out an annoyed noise which Adrien looked confsued to hear.

“Does this mean Volpina will be joining the team?”

All three heroes opened their mouths but Ladybug spoke first.

“Chat Noir and I are as we always are, a duo.”

You could see Volpina’s face fall as Ladybug spoke, and beside her Chat Noir looked defeated.

Alya’s face was twisted in a mixture of hurt and anger, “I can’t believe Ladybug did that.”

Adrien looked to his friend with a sigh, “She’s under a lot of pressure, I’m sure Volpina showing up and bragging didn’t help.”

“What does she expect? Volpina has saved the pair of them more than a few times already!”

“I thought you were the number one Ladybug fan?” Adrien joked awkwardly.

Alya seemed to be thrown off a little, “Yeah… Maybe you can be a fan and still disapprove of somethings…” She forced a laugh.

“I get that.” Adrien watched as Ladybug swung off screen and as he followed leaving Volpina behind in front of the cameras. “I wish he would stand up to her. It’s clear he wants to talk things out with Volpina.”

“Chat?” Alya turned to look at her friend, she gave him a sad smile, “I thought you were the number two Ladybug fan?”

Adrien grinned, “I’m a Volpina fan too. She deserves more credit than she’s getting.”

“You know the inside scoop do you?” Alya joked, laughing as she changed the channel.

Adrien laughed along trying not to seem too suspicious.

“Does the outfit have to look like this?” Nino asked still staring at himself in the reflection of the pond in the park. “It’s just so green! And no offense little dude, but spandex isn’t the greatest armor. Aren’t turtles known for their armor?” He let out a deep breath, “Ok. So I can summon the shield thing right? Do I just think about it?” More deep breaths, “Take out your shield and block.” Nino had his eyes squeezed shut holding onto the shield for dear life. Nothing happened. “Wayzz just come back this isn’t working.”

The green Kwami appeared again in a flash of green, “Master- I mean Nino. You must project your energy around you, you must protect yourself with it.”

“Sorry Wayzz, that makes no sense to me.”

Wayzz sighed and dropped on Nino’s shoulder, “Let us call it a night.”

“Sorry dude… I didn’t mean to disappoint.”

“No, no, you haven’t Chosen. It takes more time for some to master this technique. You could try meditation. One of my chosens a hundred years ago struggled as you are. He dedicated himself to a regime of meditation and silence for weeks on end.”

Nino tried his best not to make a face, “That sounds fantastic.”

The walk back to the apartment was filled by Wayzz’s ideas for awakening the awareness of Nino’s energy. Finally they reached the apartment and as Nino pulled out his keys Wayzz took their place in his pocket.

“Nino!” Alya jumped up from the couch and tackled him in a hug.

“Hey babe!” He laughed and returned the gesture. “What’s the giant hug for?”

“Just missed you.” Alya grinned.

“And that’s my cue to leave.” Adrien made a face.

“We’ve scared away your roommate.” Alya said with a laugh.

“Just wait till he gets a girlfriend, then he’ll get back at us.”

Adrien gave them the finger and hid a grin before closing the door to his bedroom.

Alya grabbed a beer from the fridge, “Hungry?”

It was 10pm but Nino was starving.

“Here I already bought snacks.” He lifted the grocery bags and put them on the counter.

Alya opened one of the bags and pulled out a jar of walnuts, “Since when do you like walnuts?”

Nino stiffened, “What since always! Maybe not always, but I like them! A-Adrien likes them too! So I figured why not buy a bulk supply! Just two dudes eating nuts you know?”

Alya looked up at him in confusion, “What the hell are you hiding?”

“Hiding?”

“You’re not making any sense!”

“What?! I’m making perfect sense!”

“Two dudes eating nuts.”

“Ok, bad wording.”

Alya laughed and jumped up to sit on the counter next to him. “So what are you hiding?”

“Nothing.” Nino moved away putting the other groceries in the fridge.

“Well clearly something is bothering you.”

“I’m fine Alya jeez, can’t a guy be just fine without being bombarded with questions?”

“Whoa, calm down Nino.” Alya got up and followed her boyfriend to the couch. “I’ll drop it if it bothers you so much.”

“Nothings bothering me!”

“Ok!”

There was silence between the two of them until Nino sighed, “I’m sorry… I’m just tired.”

“It’s ok.” Alya reached out her hand towards his.

He looked up at her and wrapped an arm around her torso, “I love you.”

Her eyes widened and softened, “I love you too.” She gave him a gentle kiss before standing up.

“Where are you going?”

“To get food. You ran off before I could eat anything.”

Nino smiled and followed her to the kitchen. He wasn’t sure he could keep Wayzz a secret for very long.

Marinette was forcing herself to take deep breaths.

“Marinette you’re over reacting.”

“Am I?” She ignored Tikki’s attempts to calm her down and kept pacing. “Master Fu has given his miraculous ot someone else! He’s defenseless without it!”

“Marinette-”

“This is all my fault, if the Master had more faith in me then he wouldn’t feel like he had to add someone new to the team. If only I had anything to show him how we can defeat Hawkmoth. But I don’t Tikki! It’s all my fault, I’m a terrible leader! Five years of fighting the guy and I still don’t know anything about where he is or who he is!”

“Marinette Please calm-”

“The attacks are getting stronger Tikki! What if Chat and I can’t handle it? Even with the new addition?”

“Marinette!”

Marinette looked over at her Kwami, water welling up in her eyes.

Tikki sighed, “Marinette it’s not your fault. Master Fu knows you’re doing everything you can, and it’s his decision to give up the miraculous. He’s just doing the same thing as you, he’s trying to protect Paris.”

“Tikki, he’s in danger without Wayzz.” Marinette’s voice was quiet as she tried to blink away tears.

Tikki’s little antennae drooped, “I know.”

“What if Hawkmoth-”

“Hawkmoth won’t know he doesn’t have the miraculous until the new miraculous user surfaces. Besides,” Tikki smiled a little, “He has us to look out for him.”

Marinette gave a smile and nodded. She wiped away her tears with the heels of her hand, “I guess I should be doing more productive things with my time.”

Tikki smiled, “Marinette, I think you could use a break. Why don’t you take a nap instead?”

“I can’t Tikki, I should be training or researching.” Marinette eyed the bed and tried to resist temptation.

“Marinette. You’re no use to Paris if you’re too tired.”

Marinette crawled into bed and turned her phone on silent. Tikki was an ancient god creature, she was bound to be right most of the time.

“Hi! It’s Marinette, I can’t come to the phone right now so please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Hi Mari! It’s Alya. I was just wondering if I could talk to you sometime soon? I just feel kind of weird talking about it on your voice message. Just call me back as soon as you can.”

Alya carefully balanced the box of pastries with two coffees on top of them so that she could hit the buzzer to Marinette’s apartment.

“C’mon sleepy head, answer the door.” She muttered to herself. With a sigh she got out her phone and dialed.

“Hi! It’s Marinette, I can’t come to the phone right now so please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

The message Alya left on Mari’s phone involved a prolonged and loud noise of frustration followed by a series of complaints about sleeping in, then a few threats about eating all of the chocolate croissants.

As Alya hung up she saw a man leaving the building with his dog.

“Wait!” She moved as quickly as she could while balancing her drinks and food, “My friend lives in apartment 5 b and won’t answer her phone, she’s probably asleep.”

“Just go ahead, I think I saw you help her move right?”

“Yeah! Thank you!” She ducked inside the door and pushed the button for the elevator.

Today was a good day. She hadn’t had a Hawkmoth mind moment, she had gotten a good night’s sleep without it, she was going to have delicious pastries with her friend, and her dad and her were going to get dinner together. It was going to be a good day, one that was long overdue.

Still humming the song that was playing in the elevator she arrived at Marinette’s door.

No one answered.

Alya banged a little harder on the door.

Not even a sound.

“This is pointless.” Fanna flew out of Alya’s coat pocket and straight through the door lock.

“What?” Alya watched as the door swung open and Fanna grinned, “Jesus Christ Fanna! You can’t just go breaking into people’s houses!”

“Keep it down or she’ll wake up! Now what are we stealing?”

“We are not stealing anything!” Alya said in a harsh whisper, “We are having a talk when we get home.”

Fanna stuck out her tongue, “Catch me first!”

“What? No!” Alya put the food down on the kitchen table and chased after the tiny floating fox.

Fanna snickered and floated through the wall to Marinette’s bedroom.

Shit shit shit

Alya slid down the hall and opened the door looking around wildly for the Kwami.

If Alya had not been looking for her Kwami she might have seen Marinette’s who was asleep beside her chosen’s pillow. Luckily for Marinette the door opening woke her up and in her frazzled state she managed to spot Tikki and throw her blankets over her.

“Alya what the hell!? How did you get in here?!”

“You’re door was unlocked and I-I wanted to make sure you were ok cause you weren’t answering your phone or the buzzer.” Alya gave a weak smile eyes still darting around the room for the little shit of a kwami.

“I thought I locked it.” Marinette grabbed her phone, “4 missed messages and 20 texts.” She raised a quizzical eyebrow at Alya.

“Hey, they weren’t all me.”

“What are you doing here?” Marinette got out of bed careful to make sure Tikki wasn’t revealed.

“I brought food and coffee.” Alya laughed awkwardly at the annoyed frown on Marinette’s face, “I’m getting the feeling you’re mad.”

“I thought you outgrew your barging into people’s room phase when we finished high school.”

“Sorry about that. Just with all the attacks and stuff you never know.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Marinette felt another wave of guilt that had been hitting her last night. She sighed, “You mentioned food?”

Alya gave her a genuine smile.

Marinette took one of the chocolate croissants before Alya could steal them all, and despite having not seen each other in over a week, it was like they had never spent anytime apart.

“I swear he is the dumbest guy I’ve ever met.” Marinette took a sip of her coffee as Alya laughed.

“Maybe he’s just nervous around you. You do have that effect on guys.” Alya wiggeled her eyebrows.

Marinette laughed and tried not to spit her coffee anywhere, “No one drops scissors on their feet 3 times because they like someone.”

Alya shrugged, “I make Nino’s jaw drop sometimes, you make his scissors drop.”

Marinette laughed again mouth free from hot liquids, “How is Nino?”

“Good.” Then Alya frowned, “He was acting kind of weird yesterday though.”

“How so?”

“Well he bought this giant bag of walnuts on his way home from a “work emergency” and then freaked out when I mentioned them.”

Marinette frowned, “That is weird.”

“He was all wiggy.” Alya took another sip.

“Well did you ask, or did you Alya ask?”

“I did not interrogate him.”

“Well how did you ask it?”

“I just said, since when do you like Walnuts? And then he goes on about he bout them cause Adrien likes them and he said something like, we’re just two dudes eating nuts.”

Marinette laughed, “Two dudes eating nuts?”

“That’s what I said!” Alya’s arms were talking with her words and she had to set down her coffee in order to finish the story, “So I asked him what he was hiding, because the way things were going I was expecting him to be having an affair with Adrien or something.”

Marinette laughed again.

“You laugh Mari but living together has made those boys into a married couple.”

“They fight?”

“No like the old married couple that finishes each others sentences.”

Marinette laughed again.

“Ok laugh it up girl, but you keep your boyfriend away from mine yeah?”

“We’re not dating Alya. We’ve actually become good friends.”

“Uh huh” It was Alya’s turn to laugh.

“Seriously!”

“Then what’s with all the secret rendevous at that massage parlor?”

“What?”

“You know when he walks in and then you walk in or whatever.”

“What are you talking about.” Marinette searched her brain to remember if she had seen Adrien around the shop, “There was just one time where I ran into him, but he was leaving.”

“Then you must be more blind then I am, because I have seen you walk into the massage parlor and then him go in about 10 seconds later.”

What did this mean? Was Adrien involved somehow? Master Fu had said not to worry about him but clearly he was involved. Could he be working with Hawkmoth? No he couldn’t, he was too goofy and sweet. He would never hurt anyone even if they deserved it.

“Marinette? Everything ok?”

“It’s fine! These croissants are so good!”

“Why are you changing the subject?”

“I’m not. I don’t know why Adrien was going to the massage parlor.”

“Maybe it’s because he likes you,” Alya winked.

“We’re friends. Can you just drop it?”

“Is it something else then? Something more mysterious? Are you hiding a double life from me or something?” Alya laughed.

“Alya just drop it!”

There was quiet between the two of them.

“Sorry. I didn’t realized it bothered you that much.”

Marinette tried to turn off all the alarm bells in her head that kept screaming “She knows you’re Ladybug! She knows!”

“Hey Mari? I know you didn’t get my message, but I was wondering if you’ve thought about getting a roommate?”

“A roomate?”

“Yeah. You’re in school, it’ll be easier to pay rent. Plus there’ll be someone to make sure you lock the door.” Alya laughed nervously.

“Alya-”

“I have an empty room at my apartment if you don’t think this place is big enough, but honestly Mari, you could just use that extra work space to make a bedroom.”

“Alya, I don’t wnat a roommate.”

“Mari-”

“I just need to live on my own ok? I’ll let you know if I change my mind but till then-”

“I need a roommate.”

“What?”

“Mari I have no job and no roommate and my rent is due soon. I don’t know how long I can keep up with all this.”

“Alya-”

“I know you don’t want a roommate and I’m really sorry to keep asking, but I need a hand here.”

“Then go online and look for a roommate!”

“I’ve been looking!”

“Alya the answer is no!”

“Why not? Would us living together really be so bad?”

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend to move in with you then?”

“Stop avoiding the question. Why don’t you want to live with me?”

“I just want my privacy!”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You are single handedly the most nosy person I know Alya! I love you for it, but I can’t live with someone who’s always going to be asking me questions about where I’ve been, or what I’m doing!”

Alya was silent.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean it to sound like that.”

“It’s fine I get it.”

“Why don’t you ask Nino?”

“I don’t know.”

“Alya!”

“Because I don’t know if I’m ready for that!”

There was another pause and Alya took a sip of her coffee. Marinette frowned, “You don’t know if you love him?”

“I love him. I do. I just… What if we break up again Mari? It happened before what if we break up and we have to decide who keeps the apartment? What if moving in together is what breaks us up?”

“You’re afraid to commit is that it?”

“Well not all of us fall in love with the first model we see and decide we’re gonna marry him.”

“I-” But Marinette didn’t know how to respond.

Alya wasn’t sure how they ended their conversation, it died out into quiet thought as they both finished their breakfast. Then Marinette thanked her for the visit and politely smiled as Alya walked out the door. Fanna was safely back in her pocket and she could feel Hawkmoth in the back of her mind.

Who sat there? Who’s seats were always empty?

Alya wanted to answer, just so he would shut up and leave her alone, but she didn’t. As much as her dislike for Ladybug was growing, she couldn’t just betray her.

“Wayzz, I’m giving you all the walnuts in the world when we get back home.”

The suit, which used to be tight and thin just like ladybugs, was now slightly looser and a darker colour of green. Wayzz had put knee, elbow and various other pads made of a hard material Nino couldn’t name.

He wasn’t sure but he swore he could feel the kwami smiling proudly in his head.

“Ok, let’s go help Ladybug.”

Nino started a very slow descent from the top of the building he was on, but when he touched the ground he took off running towards the sounds of the battle.

You can do this. You were chosen.

Above him he saw a familiar flash of orange. Volpina was a block ahead of him, easily leaping from building to building as if the fear of death no longer had a hold of her. Nino was beginning to wonder just how crazy Ladybug and Chat Noir were. He had always thought they must have been partly indestructible, or that they had superpowers beyond that of lucky charm and cataclysm, but no, it really was just the miraculous. He was wearing the same suit as they were and he was not indestructible. Was he the only one who felt a wave of fear every time he found himself on a rooftop? Were these people insane? How in the world did Ladybug swing from a tiny wire and not fear that it would snap at any given moment. And Volpina and Chat would just run along the rooftops and jump between them!

Nino took a deep breath and prepared himself as he turned the corner. There in the middle of the street was an akuma breathing fire on the shops of Paris.

Fire. Fire was a very real threat. Plus he was a turtle, turtles live in the water they were weak to fire. So maybe that was Pokemon logic but the reasoning still held up.

You can do this! You were chosen! Let’s go!

He hoped Wayzz couldn’t hear his mental pep rally and took off again moving towards the akuma.

“I am The Dragon!” The dragon let out another blast of fire and Nino lifted up his shield to cover himself. “You laughed at me, but now you will feel the wrath of fire!”

Nino poked his head above his shield when the fire and saw the giant creature with its fists around Ladybug.

“Ladybug!”

The dragon looked towards him, “Who are you? Some sort of tiny dragon?”

Nino looked his outfit up a down, “Not really. I was going more for turtle.”

“I don’t have time for tiny turtles!” Ladybug struggled to get her arms free as the dragon opened his mouth and moved her closer.

Shit shit shit

“Up here!”

The akuma and Nino looked up to see Volpina standing on the roof above them.

“Or am I over here?” Another Volpina was across the road in an alley.

“You’ll have to catch me.” There was a giggle as another Volpina dashed across the street near the akuma’s feet.

The dragon gave a roar and dropped Ladybug, chasing after the orange fox. Nino sprung forward in an attempt to catch the falling hero.

“Sorry I’m late M’lady.” Chat Noir looked a little too pleased that Ladybug had fallen from the sky so he could catch her.

“I should hope so.” She grumbled as he let her down.

“Who’s this?” Chat turned his attention to Nino, who was still standing awkwardly in his catching position.

“Oh!” He jumped back up into a solute, “I’m- uh- well I don’t have a name yet- but it’s good to meet you sir-”

Chat laughed a little and Ladybug hit him, “Don’t worry about a name yet.” She said kindly, “Master Fu already explained to me he chose a new miraculous user. It’s good to meet you.”

“Uh- Likewise!”

Chat threw him a grin, “What can you do Turtle Boy?”

“I have this shell… I’m supposed to be able to make a force field but I can’t seem to get it yet.”

“Don’t worry,” Ladybug gave him another kind smile, “We need help getting the citizens out safely. Your shell will be perfect for that.”

Nino nodded and ran to the nearest shop.

Above them Volpina after Volpina was being smashed or grabbed, all of them turning to smoke. People were cowering behind the counter and under tables.

Ladybug caught her breath as Chat lead the Dragon away from their new teammate.

None of their attacks seemed to be doing any damage and Chat had already used his Cataclysm. She needed to find where the akuma was hiding. There was only one problem, the akuma didn’t have any objects on it.

“M’Lady,” Chat ran up beside her, dodging another breath of fire, “What’s the plan?”

“Keep leading him away from the civilians, we need to make sure they’re safe while we look for where the akuma is hiding.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Volpina was ducking in and out of shops trying to create diversions for people to leave, she could see the new hero leading groups of civilians out of shops using his shield to protect as many as possible. The shield was only so big and Volpina new they would need something else to help them get out.

Volpina ran under the feet of the monster, “Hey over here!”

The dragon looked around for the voice and spotted the orange hero, “Little fox! You are no match for a dragon!”

The akuma lifted its foot and tried to stop on the orange blob beneath it.

“You missed!” The fox hero stood to it’s left with her tongue out in a taunt.

The dragon roared again and tried to squash her.

Ladybug had already called upon her lucky charm which was a heavy arrow. She was still looking around trying to figure it out when Chat ran up beside her.

“Chat? Who’s distracting the akuma?”

“Volpina.”Chat panted pointing to the superhero as she expertly danced around the creature's legs and ducked under it’s fire. She kept her eyes on the group of civilians the new turtle hero was escorting and made sure to stay clear of the group until they were gone.

“She’s helping us?” Ladybug wanted to distrust her, or tell Chat that she could be working with the Akuma, but there it was plain as day. Volpina was risking her life to protect the people of Paris, while Ladybug was stuck on a roof wondering what to do. Her heart sunk, the reporters were right. Paris needed someone new to protect it.

“LB?” Chat waved a hand in front of her face, “Giant dragon remember?”

“Chat- I don’t know what to do!” Ladybug could feel the panic rising inside of her, everyone else had a task and they were doing all they could, but she was stumped. Chat could see her eyes well up with tears, “I don’t know where the akuma is! I don’t know how to defeat it!”

“Ladybug-”

“None of our attacks are working we need to evacuate the city!”

Chat Noir grabbed her shoulders and met her gaze, “Ladybug! I think I know where the akuma is hiding!”

“You what?”

Chat grinned with glee and pointed to the dragon, “Look at his stomach, one of the scales looks different.”

“I don’t follow.”

“It’s the only thing that’s different, why else would it be like that.”

“I still don’t understand how the arrow is supposed to help.”

“Ok, so you got an arrow?” Chat went to look at the spotted object. The point of it had a slight spiral, but other then that it looked completely normal. “Ok. Nothing we’re throwing at it is doing anything right? We have this arrow, but we don’t know if it’s gonna kill it or even hurt it at all.”

“Chat I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I got it! I’ve seen this arrow before!”

“You what?”

“They’re smaug!”

“Who?”

“The dragon from the Hobbit! He had one scale that was missing because it was shot with an arrow, and it was the only place that could be damaged!”

“So when you say you’ve seen the arrow before?”

“It was in a movie yes.”

“What did they do in the Hobbit?”

Chat’s eyes shone with glee, “They fired the last arrow at the dragon’s missing scale.”

Ladybug looked at him incredulously, “You want us to do what?”

Volpina was still ducking in between the dragon’s feet. Crash and a jump away to avoid a giant scaly paw. Another crash, and another.

“I have you trapped now little fox.” The dragon smirked and it’s loud voice broke into a cackle.

“Do your worst.” The Hero stood proud.

Nino didn’t know he could move so quickly. The dragon lifted its paw and brought it down as hard as it could on Volpina. Nino jumped in between the two and raised his shield. He willed the power Wayzz was talking about to come, he held his shield tight and pushed with all of his might against the dragon. And then suddenly he hit the ground and felt his shield cut slightly into his side.

In the moment that Nino threw himself in front of Volpina three things happened. The first was the real Volpina tackling the ametuer hero to the ground and away from the dragon’s foot. The second was the fake smoke Volpina disappearing as the foot hit the ground, and the third was a brief flash of orange as Fanna took over her chosen’s body.

Nino heard a scream and looked behind him to see a woman with sharp pointy teeth like Volpina pinned underneath the foot of the creature. He scrambled up ignoring the pain in his side.

“Volpina?”

Fanna hissed in pain, “Get me out.”

There was a roar from the dragon and Nino quickly grabbed hold of the woman and pulled her from under the dragon’s foot as it stumbled back. He bent down low and scooped her into his arms running towards a near alley.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Fanna.” Said the woman as she held tightly to his arm and hissed in pain, “I am Volpina’s kwami.”

“Her Kwami?” Nino’s eyes widened as he ducked behind a dumpster. He put the woman down gently and looked at her leg. It was definitely broken.

“Yes. When you jumped in to protect one of her smoke creations, she jumped in to save you, so I took over to protect her.”

“What do you mean?”

Fanna let out a small cry of pain, “I don’t have time to explain everything. You need to leave, I need to switch with her again.”

“I-”

“Go!”

Nino ran around to the other side of the dumpster and looked back to see a flash of orange. He should go back. He should thank her for saving his life. He should help her. He got a little closer to the dumpster.

“Can I help?” He asked, taking another step.

“I think you’ve done enough.” Volpina responded.

“I’m sorry.”

“Go help your teammates. I hear they’e looking for help as long as it’s not me.”

“I-”

“Go!”

So Nino sprinted in the other direction and back towards the fight.

When he got back the dragon was gone and a little white butterfly was flying away. Beside Chat Noir was a very frightened man clutching a small book.

“The hobbit?” Nino glanced at the cover.

“It’s one of my favorites.” The frightened man said looking around him at the destruction, “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean-”

“It’s alright.” Ladybug patted the man shoulder gently, “Hawkmoth is to blame here, not you.”

The police, paramedics and firefighters had arrived, and the man was handed to them and wrapped in a blanket.

“Never thought I would say it, but thank god you’re a dork Chat.” Ladybug gave him a smile and Chat Noir beamed in response. She turned her attention to Nino, “Thank you for your help. What should we call you?”

“Me?” Nino pointed to himself, “I- uh- I don’t know. All of this is still pretty new and crazy to me.”

“I like turtle boy.” Chat joked, giving Nino a smirk.

“I don’t.” Nino gave Chat an annoyed look, “How did you guys chose your name?”

Ladybug thought for a second, “I look like a ladybug…”

“I’m a cat, who is black. So Chat Noir.”

Nino didn’t know if he had been expecting a better answer or not.

Suddenly there were reporters and flashing lights as camera’s went off.

“Ladybug, can you comment on why this akuma managed to cause so much damage to the city?”

“The akuma usually have items that hold significance to them. This akuma did not have one. It took us longer to find where the akuma was hiding, and because the creature was so large and destructive the damage was more extensive this time, but the damage is repaired and the civilians were safely evacuated.”

“Who is the new teammate Ladybug?”

“Turtle Boy is the newest member of our team!” Chat said with a grin.

“It’s not Turtle Boy.” Nino protested, and suddenly all of the cameras went on him.

“What should the people call you?”

Nino looked at both of his teammates for help, but the merely shrugged their shoulders. “Uh… Jade Turtle.”

“We must get going.” Ladybug announced and with that she swung up to the roofs. Chat Noir took off as well and Jade Turtle followed, slower and on foot. He had to find a way of moving faster. This was ridiculous.

Alya was running as fast as she could, cradling Fanna in her hands.

“Why did you do that?” Tears were rolling down her cheeks and she couldn’t wipe them away.

“Because you are my chosen and I didn’t want you to be hurt.” Fanna gave a weak smile to Alya, “You are my kit, I will always protect you Alya.”

Alya kept running, turning when Fanna told her to, until they were on Marinette’s parent’s street.

“Fanna?”

“Turn left.”

Alya ran down the street and spotted the massage parlor.

“That’s the place.”

Alya ripped open the door and called for help. Her call seemed to echo in the empty shop and her heart broke. Then out of the corner of her eye she saw movement. A short, old, asian man looked at her quizzically.

“Master.” Fanna gave the man a smile.

“It’s been a long time Fanna.” The old man returned the smile.

Alya held Fanna to the man, “Please, she’s very hurt! Please help her!”

“Come.” The old man led her into the shop and instructed her to put Fanna on the table. Alya wiped her eyes and stood back barely breathing, her eyes wide with worry as the old man moved his hands over Fanna.

Something passed between the man and the Kwami and Alya wasn’t sure what it was.

“She will recover, but she needs to be careful and rest.” The old man said turning to Alya. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Volpina.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Master Fu, I am the guardian of the miraculous.”

“Master… I’m not the real Volpina.” Alya confessed her eyes falling to the floor.

“Oh?”

“I didn’t steal the miraculous I promise! But it was given to me by a man who stole it, or more accurately, the man being controlled by the creature who stole it. I understand if you want Fanna back so you can chose a hero properly.”

“I don’t think that is necessary.” Master Fu dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand.

“But I wasn’t chosen.”

“Do you want to know a secret Volpina?” The old man smiled, “Neither was I.”

Alya looked at the man confused, “What do you mean?”

“When I was 16 I stole my miraculous from my teacher, he was the guardian at the time. I was never chosen to have Wayzz, yet he and I were good friends and we saved people's lives.”

“Really?”

“Yes. The Chat Noir and Ladybug before yours were not chosen by me or anyone else. They found the miraculous and if I had the choice I would have chose them anyway.” Master Fu gave the girl a smile, “You have the love and care for others that Fanna needs. You have the imagination and creativity to utilize her power. And you have the courage and strength to fight for what is right. You are Volpina. Nothing can change that. You were always meant to be Volpina.”

Fanna floated slowly towards her chosen, “I would not stick around with just anyone. You are my chosen, and you make every Volpina who came before proud.”

“Thank you Master.” Alya gave the man a smile.

“I’m very glad I got to meet you, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to.” The man looked to Fanna, “It was an honor to serve you, and I’m glad to see you again.”

Fanna met his gaze sadly, “Goodbye old friend.”

Alya left the shop with Fanna safely in her hands again. The kwami watched the shop mournfully. Alya frowned, “Why do you look so sad?”

“Master Fu is going to die soon.”

“What? How can you tell?”

“Because that was his goodbye.”

Jade Turtle tried to crawl through the window as quietly as possible with little success. There was a crash and a yelp as he took the papers on his desk down with him.

“Ow..” He mumbled getting up slowly.

He looked up at the apartment through his open bedroom door. That was something he was going to have to change. No more open doors, more privacy, places to hide a small turtle. With a grumble he stood up and went to close said door when he looked across the hall into Adrien’s room and froze.

“Chat Noir?”

Said Hero froze in the middle of closing the window of his roommate's bedroom.

“I-In the flesh!” Chat stuttered jumping to face his new teammate.

“W-What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?!” Chat cried a little indignantly.

“I live here!”

“So do I.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“Adrien?!?”

“NINO?!”

Chat ran up to Jade, “I can’t believe it!”

“Dude you’re Chat Noir!”

“I know!” Chat gave a wide grin.

“Have you always been?”

“Ever since the first day of school.”

“What?? That long?”

“Yeah!”

“What the fuck dude! How did I not figure it out!”

With a flash of dark and light green the two kwami’s flew into the air.

“It’s good to see you Plagg.” Wayzz greeted politely.

“The Master’s finally retiring?” Plagg asked.

“Yes.” Wayzz said, looking a little defeated.

Plagg flew over and gave Wayzz a pat on the back.

“Hey green dude, it’s ok.” Nino lifted a finger and patted Wayzz’s head affectionately, “I promise that I’ll make Master Fu proud.”

“He will,” Adrien added in, “I’ve known him for 5 years, and even without the miraculous he’s amazing!”

Wayzz seemed to smile, and Nino and his Kwami exchanged a look of confidence.

“He has done superbly so far.”

Nino looked bashful, then suddenly “That’s why you were always sneaking out late and canceling plans!” Nino said turning to Adrien.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Dude! It all makes sense now! The random cat puns, all the times you “went to the bathroom” in school, your love for Ladybug-”

“Don’t get me started.” Plagg rolled his eyes. “Kid I need food.”

Adrien sighed and headed towards the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled out a wheel of camembert.

“That’s why you smell like cheese all the time!” Nino’s world felt like it had been turned upside down, only to reveal that he had been looking at it wrong his whole life. “That explains why we always have a fridge full of the stuff but you never eat it.”

Adrien sighed, “Believe me, I’ve asked him if he’ll eat anything else.” Adrien’s brow furrowed for a second, “What does Wayzz eat?”

“Walnuts.” Wayzz said happily floating through the cupboard he saw Nino put the shopping bag in, and returning with a Walnut in his tiny hands.

“I guess cause he has a hard shell? Like a walnut?” Nino shrugged, “So who else knows?”

“Nobody. You’re the only one.”

“Really?” Nino went to the fridge to get some food for himself, “Not even spots?”

Adrien shook his head with a sad sigh, “Believe me I want to tell her, I’ve wanted to since the first day I met her, but she has this rule that we can’t know who each other is. “No one can know who we are Chat, not even ourselves.”” Adrien used his dramatic voice to recite Ladybug’s rule.

“Sorry Man. Are you going to get in trouble cause I know?”

Adrien shrugged, “It wasn’t like it was on purpose. Besides, that rule’s between me and her, and it’s not as if I told a random civilian. Maybe we just won’t tell her.”

“Sounds good to me dude.”

Adrien had always wondered what it’d be like to share this with someone. If they would judge him for it, if they would treat him differently, if they wanted someone cooler than him to be Chat Noir, but Nino didn’t.

As Adrien talked to his friend and answered all the question Nino had he felt a wave of relief wash over him. He was going to be fighting Hawkmoth with his best friend. What could be greater than that?

Adrien reached out and engulfed Nino in a hug.

“Dude are you ok?” Nino asked slightly worried and slightly amused as he returned the gesture.

“I’m just really glad I don’t have to keep this a secret anymore.”

Nino smiled, “Adrien?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for rescuing me from Hawkmoth all those times.”

Adrien smiled back, “Anytime.”

Fu poured himself a cup of tea and brought it to his lips.

“Your door was open.”

“How strange I thought I locked it.” Fu took a sip of the tea and made a face. “Still too hot.”

“It’s been a while.” The figure moved into the room making no other sound then his voice.

“12 years.” Fu said.

“You know what I want.”

“You know that even if I knew I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Where is she Fu?” The figure slammed it’s hands down on the table in anger.

“You’ve been busy. You must have stolen all of the miraculous by now. Except for Tikki and Plagg, and of course you lost two that you stole. And the two you have left never met Elle, how could they help you find her?”

The figure growled.

“I think I may have touched a nerve there.”

The figure seemed to collect himself, “Gabriel was always such a soft man. His anger didn’t last long. He was weak.”

“He’s your chosen.”

“He is not my chosen!”

“She was Tikki’s not yours.” Fu took a sip of his tea, “That’s better.”

“She chose me!” The figure slammed a fist through the table, “She was mine! She should have been my chosen! Tikki never loved her like I did and she didn’t love Tikki like she loved me!”

“Love?” Master Fu’s voice was darker now, “That is what you call it? I know what you did, and she knows too. She will never love you.”

“Philippe killed Sage. He deserved to die. She hated him. She told me she hated him. She would have thanked me for getting rid of him.”

“I wasn’t talking about Philippe.”

The figure fell silent.

“You should stop this Rekko. You should live peacefully here if you wish to stay.”

The figure laughed, “Is that a threat?”

“Yes.”

“You are a foolish old man.”

“Let the kwami you are stealing power from go.”

Rekko laughed, “You blundering old man! I don’t fear you! Tonight you will die, and these threats? They are empty.”

“I don’t care what happens to me.” Fu smiled, “The cards have been dealt.”

“Yes. I know about your precious new chosen. Jade Turtle? He was adorable.” Rekko snickered, “And Fanna can only protect that Cesaire girl for so long. I have the powers of three Kwami and no miraculous to tie me down! I am unstoppable!”

“Asa’s descendant has been found.”

Rekko froze in his place, a cold dread filled him at the memory of the gates to the kwami’s world. The young woman with fire in her eyes and enough power to wipe him off the face of the earth, her words sucking him closer and closer to the dark pit.

“Amira is dead. You must be lying.”

“She had a child.”

“Firefighters arrived at the scene, but all attempts to put out the house fire have been unsuccessful.”

“Hey Mum, I’m waiting for Dad-”

At around 7 pm, two young woman grabbed their coats and ran out the door. Both could barely think except to run as fast as possible. The women took the steps two at a time as they left their buildings, the cool air hitting them as the doors flew open.

There is a special fear that builds in you when you hear that someone you love is in danger. You’re body refuses to move at first, and it takes you a minute to force it into action. You’re movement starts out shaky as your mind tries to think logically. Where did I put my keys? Will I need my bus tokens? What’s the fastest way there? And then you can’t slow down. Nothing is fast enough. You know you can’t run all the way there but you need to. At every crossing walk you run across the road, just as an excuse to move, to get there faster, sooner, because the seconds count now. Your mind keeps drifting back to every word that was said.

Your dad’s in the Hospital.

A small massage shop.

Your mind jumps to the worst possibility, you try to convince yourself that it couldn’t happen. And then you wonder what your life will be like without them. How it would feel to never see them again. And your brain is telling you it can’t happen, that it won’t come to that. And your legs keep running faster, and now you’re sprinting, and the tears are falling, and finally you arrive and your legs are jelly and you feel like you’re going to collapse and weep.

And in front of Marinette there was a fire and it burned hot enough to make her stumble back blindly onto the road. And the sign above the shop was falling, and everything was crumbling, and the water from the firefighters fell onto the hot building like the tears fell down Marinette’s warm face.

Then she saw him, a figure standing on the roof, his face lit up from the fire. Her heart broke. It wasn’t Master Fu.

“My name is Hawkmoth!” The figure cried his masked face bright from the flames and from his delight at their destruction, “Let this mark the day your lives change. Nothing will be able to stop me! Not Ladybug, not Chat Noir, nor their new friend. I used to hide in the shadows, but it all changes now. I will have what I want, and your city will burn until I get it.”

And then the masked man was gone and Marinette fell to her knees and wept. She had failed. Master Fu was dead. People ran to her, they tried to help her up, to comfort her, but she couldn’t move. She shook with tears and soon everyone was gone.

“Princess?”

She couldn’t face him. She had failed him just as she had failed Fu, just as she had failed her city.

“How c-could this happen?” She choked out between sobs.

“Marinette-” Chat’s arms were around here. Holding her, shielding her from the fire. She wanted to shake him off. She wanted fall to the hard ground and sob until the aching in her chest was gone, but she didn’t. She let him keep her upright and hold onto her.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice sounded choked and hoarse, “I didn’t get here soon enough. I couldn’t save him, I couldn’t do anything.”

“This is all Ladybug’s fault.”

She felt Chat stiffen,”It’s not-”

“Why isn’t she here? Why didn’t she stop this!”

“I’m sure she tried her hardest-”

“She didn’t! I know she didn’t! She hasn’t been able to help anyone! She’s failed everyone!”

“Enough-”

“Maybe she should give up her miraculous to someone who can actually use it!”

“You’re wrong.” Chat had pulled back from her, “I know you’re upset about your uncle, but I can promise you that Ladybug is doing all she can. She loves this city, and she has done more for it then you can imagine. I won’t let you talk badly about her.”

Marinette finally looked up at Chat her eyes red and puffy, “You believe in her?’

“Of course. Ladybug will always help people.”

Marinette fell back onto Chat’s chest and cried on his shoulder, “I wish I was half as good as you Kitty.”

Chat’s eye widened at the nickname, he looked down at his friend in surprise, “Marinette… What did you…” He stopped himself and held her closer, “It’ll be ok Mari. I promise.”

“Pick up, pick up.’ Alya chanted under her breath, pressing the phone closer to her ear. The phone kept ringing, Alya hit her head on the wall she was leaning on. She slid down to sit on the floor.

“Mari, please.” Alya sobbed drawing her knees into her chest, “I need you to pick up.”

“Hi-”

“Mari!”

“It’s Marinette, I can’t come to the phone right now so please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

The phone fell from Alya’s grip. Her body shook from tears, hands covering her face meekly.

“Please don’t cry my kit.”

Alya looked up and met the soft brown eyes of Fanna. The kwami looked tired, and her leg was wrapped up in bandage. Fanna wiped away Alya’s tears with her thumb.

“I have grown to love you and it hurts to see you sad.”

“I don’t want him to die.” More tears fell on Fanna’s tan hand.

Fanna sat beside her chosen, “I know Alya, I know.”

“I love him so much.”

“I know,” Fanna wrapped her arms around Alya and held her chosen close, “I’m sorry for your pain.” Fanna kissed the top of Alya’s forehead.

“I know.”

“You should talk to him,” Fanna lifted Alya’s chin, “There are many things I wish I had told those I loved that I will never get to say.”

“Can you come with me?”

Alya passed her mother on the way into the hospital room.

“Hi Dad.”

She was greeted by the sound of him breathing and the steady beat of his heart monitor.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Alya grabbed the chair beside the bed and sat down. “I love you. More then I can say, and I’m sorry I never told you, because I should have. I should have told you every chance I got.”

Alya took a deep breath, “Dad there’s something you should know.” Alya pulled Fanna out of her pocket.

“This is Fanna. She’s a kwami. You know how Ladybug and Chat Noir have these superpowers and they fight evil? They have Kwami’s too. I’m Volpina. The reason I lost my job was because I had to fight an akuma.”

Alya nodded tears prickling her eyes, “I wanted you to know Dad. I didn’t want you to think I’m making bad choices. I wanted you to be proud of me. And I wanted you to know, to know the truth. I don’t want to keep this secret from you. I don’t know if you can hear me but...” Alya trailed off.

“I have always been proud of you Alya.” Her dad’s voice was quiet and weak. She looked up at him in surprise and he smiled, “And what did I tell you? You can handle Hawkmoth no problem.”

Alya laughed a few tears rolling down her cheeks. “He won’t know what hit him.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#trying #mlb #miraculous ladybug #alya #alya cesaire #nino #nino lahiffe #turtle nino #volpina #ninoxalya #Marinette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #sorry this took so long!!!

[miauslifecom-blog]

A Brief History Of Cats

Who were these very first cats? The very first hint depends on where farming was first

practiced. Farming initially settled (no pun planned) in the Middle East in a terrific

sweep from modern Turkey to Egypt. Within this location varies the African wild cat,

Felis libyca. African wild cats are somewhat bigger that our contemporary home cats and are

yellow in color with soft stripes. These cats have a docile, practically laid back nature.

Surprisingly, these cats still tend to live and hunt near human houses today. Residents

still like to capture and rear young wild cats as family pets. When fully grown, wild cats raised by

people tend to act quite like our familiar housecats. A great case can (and.

has actually) been advanced designating Felis libyca as the primary establishing population for.

domestic cats. A minimum of 2 other ranges of wild cat are hypothesized to have actually contributed.

to the hereditary comprise of domestic cats. One is Felis silvestris, The European wildcat.

who appears to have actually contributed darker markings and a peppery spirit to the African wild.

cat base. Likewise, from Asia, comes the Pallas or Steppe cat (Felis manul) that appears to.

have actually contributed long-haired coats to the mix.

It appears odd that there was ever a time when cats were not a part of our lives.

It's been less that 10,000 years considering that cats swaggered into our lives. Barely an eye blink in

the grand sweep of life on this world. Why were cats so late to join our group? The basic

response is they didn't require us to make it through. cats were enduring simply great by themselves. Then,

individuals developed farming. Farming led to big scale storage of grains which

drew in the normal and popular group of freeloaders, mice and rats. Grain drew in

rodents. Rodents drew in cats who consider them yummy meals. The outcome was that cats

established housekeeping near to human settlements. Ultimately, cats being cats, moved right

on in.

The early duration of domestication of cats is unclear with just spots of proof.

Nevertheless, by 6,000 B.C. statues discovered in Anatolia (modern-day Turkey) reveal ladies playing.

with domestic cats. cats had actually plainly ended up being typical and caring animals by that time.

The earliest composed records about cats appear by roughly 4,000 B.C. in Egypt.

where they were often kept to hunt mice and rats from kept grains. It was an excellent.

time to be a cat in ancient Egypt. Domestic cats were believed to be the personification of.

the goddess Bast (or Bastet). There was a necropolis at her primary temple at Bubastis.

which contained mummified cats.

The history of cats is a remarkable one, worthwhile of far more in depth research study. It.

promotes a gratitude for the characters and skills of our animals.

The Middle Ages it were a really hard time to be a cat. cats were stated to be witches.

familiars, in league with the devil. Because of this superstitious notion, cats were consistently eliminated.

throughout celebrations. Often they were even burned alive or shaken off high structures. The.

Europeans paid greatly for their ruthlessness to cats. The deaths of numerous cats permitted the.

rodent population to increase out of control, generating the Black Death which eliminated a lot.

of the European population. Ultimately, the cats' easily methods and searching expertise.

redeemed them in the eyes of individuals of Europe. By the 1600s, individuals in France started.

putting little holes near the bottom of their doors to enable their cats to get in and leave as.

they please.

In Asia cats continued to recognize hunters and valued animals. cats were typically.

topics for drawing and painting in China. In Japan, cats in the form of Maneki Neko,.

generally depicted as a sitting cat with one paw raised and bent, are thought about excellent.

fortune. They are typically discovered in organisations to attract cash.

Romans spread out the domestic cat northward into main Europe and westward to.

Britain throughout the growth of their empire. cats were rapidly embraced and appreciated as.

excellent hunters. And they continued to move north and east in Europe. The Vikings utilized.

cats as both rodent hunters and family pets. The Viking goddess of love and war, Freyja, was.

related to cats. Substantial winged cats drew her chariot. It likewise ended up being the customized to.

provide brand-new bride-to-bes a kitty in her name.

#cats #katzen #pets #animals #katze #cat

[yannasunflower]

Blood and Magic - Ch. 1

not quite sure why I’m doing this but the idea really wouldn’t leave me alone. inspired by @constellunaa​ and her incredible artwork. please check it out! Pairings: NaLu, Gajevy, Gruvia Rating: T for future violence and mature content ~can be found on ffnet~

{it is by suffering that human beings become angels - Victor Hugo}

The sound of her heels were muffled by the carpet underfoot. She glanced out the large windows lining the long hallway, smiling briefly at the beautiful day outside. Cloudless, blue sky and the smallest of breezes rustling the leaves, which were just barely beginning to change color.

She stood before the large door for a few moments more, sucking in a deep breath and ignoring the pinch of the corset as she did so. She cleared her throat slightly, and then raised her hand to knock a couple of times. She waited for her father to call her in before pushing the door open; it swung in silently on its oiled hinges.

The room was large and extravagantly decorated. A beautiful, massive oak desk sat in the center and giant bookshelves, crowded with books on finances and business, lined the walls. Some of the tomes were bigger than her head, while others were flimsy paperbacks. No pictures adorned any of the shelves or the desk. Instead, seated at the desk was a large man in an expensive suit, who barely glanced up as his daughter entered the room.

"You leave tomorrow," he said, a statement. Her father rarely asked questions. He, instead, stated what he wanted as if they were already facts, and so they became. He was the kind of man who was particularly skilled in bending wills. Not surprising, considering his family and their magics.

Lucy shifted uneasily, the stuffy dress her maid insisted she wear poking into her ribs. Really, it was ridiculous her father insisted she dress in gowns when she "presented" herself to him. Were they in Victorian England? Or the twenty first century?

He finally looked up from his paperwork, staring her in the eye until she felt the need to check to see if she had something in her teeth.

"You'll stay there for all vacations. Your teachers will send me weekly reports of your progress," he continued. "The school has an excellent reputation and I expect you to return in four years' time an esteemed, accomplished young woman."

He paused, lacing his fingers together and resting his chin on them. Lucy didn't dare to nod or move or breathe too loudly. Instead, she waited. She had learned when his pauses meant he was waiting a response, and when he was merely gathering his thoughts.

"You'll make me proud."

If it were any other man, there may have been some kind of warmth to the statement. A hint of sentimentality as their only child left the house for a school that was miles and cities away. But he merely watched her with cold eyes for a moment before waving his hand, a blatant dismissal. That was it. There would be no good-bye or parting gift. It wasn't a question, it was a fact; she would excel and make him proud. A shiver shot down her spine at the thought of what would happen if her grades were unsatisfactory or she got into any kind of trouble. Both scenarios were highly unlikely, but still. It would be ugly.

She turned and exited without a word, letting the door fall shut behind her. Heaving a deep sigh, she kicked her shoes off and started back for her room to finish the last of her packing.

Lucy bid a tearful farewell to her maid early the next morning, who wiped at her tears not-so-subtly and reminded her a thousand and one times to write.

"I wish Master would permit us cellphones, they're so much faster for communication. But please write letters, Miss, and write many. Don't forget us over at that fancy school of yours. We'll miss you," Virgo sniffled.

Lucy smiled sadly. The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon but she had a long train ride ahead of her.

"Of course, I could never forget you," she assured her maid. She took the steaming coffee and muffin from the housekeeper gratefully, was squeezed into many final farewell hugs, and started off down the long gravel driveway to where the car awaited to take her to the train station. Plue trotted faithfully at her heels, though he seemed more than a little tired and put off by the early hour. Though he looked like a normal, albeit albino, German Shepherd, Lucy knew her familiar was capable of much more than playing fetch.

Lucy continued waving until she got into the car. She glanced up at the large windows, wondering if her father was watching her go. She thought she caught just the barest glimpse of a silhouette in his office window. But as quickly as she spotted it, it was gone, and she was left to the long journey. She watched the large mansion and its lands disappear in the rear window, feeling no tug at her heart when the building disappeared. It hadn't felt like a home in a very long time after all.

Lucy bid farewell to the driver half an hour later and stepped onto the train platform, finally feeling the beginnings of excitement in her stomach. She fiddled with the crystal hung around her neck, reaching an absent hand down to stroke Plue's head as she waited for her train.

It was tradition in her mother's family that when a witch turned eight, they summoned a familiar and formed a contract. The type of familiar that responded to the summons was often indicative of the times. For example, her mother had summoned her own in a relatively peaceful period, and so she had received Nara, a familiar that could pass off as a common housecat. Nara had specialized in Seeing, capable of seeing through most objects and adept at spying and stealth.

But there had been tales of the witches in her family summoning familiars that specialized in healing during war. And when Lucy had summoned Plue, a familiar adept at battle and defense, there had been nervous murmurs. She was, to her relatives' knowledge, the first in the family to do so.

"There is no war, why a Hound?"

"It must be a sign…"

"I'm telling you, my cousin told me the King is slipping more into madness every day…"

Her father had approved, in his own distant way.

"At least it's good for something," was all he had said about the matter. Lucy had desperately wished for her mother that day; her grandmother had guided her through the ritual, though traditionally it was a ceremony overseen by mothers. The magic in her mother's family descended through the women, a rare matriarchal bloodline that wasn't seen often. They were an old family, with old magic.

But all Lucy knew was that when Plue rose in that circle, in his full, true form, she'd first felt fear, then rough, unbridled joy. He had looked at her for one long moment before he had leaned forward and touched his wet nose to her forehead.

Plue, he had rumbled, for her ears only (for the words exchanged between witch and familiar were sacred), and she had tried not to giggle at the rather silly name for a demon.

Her grandmother had overseen the ceremony, a job normally reserved for the mothers. But Lucy's mother had been gone by then.

"I wish your mother had been here to see it," she had murmured, stroking Lucy's hair with a trembling, wrinkled hand.

Now, she patted his head, feeling the content hum of his energy in her chest as he napped at her feet. She pulled out her phone, a new smartphone she had only been given after several, carefully worded requests to her father. The man was rather stubborn in his refusal of technology.

But she had reasoned that a phone would make forming the necessary connections at school much easier, and would also help her blend in to the outside world much easier.

Humming, she plugged in her headphones and started some of the music she had downloaded onto it. She wasn't allowed much contact with the outside world, and was probably pretty behind as far as music trends went, but she nodded her head along anyway, enjoying the rough words and beat. It was a far cry from the usual classical music she was required to listen to.

Their train arrived about fifteen minutes later and she was glad she had no trouble getting Plue on board. She wasn't keen on casting spells on Everydays; that is, people with no magic. Normal people, with what were probably blissfully normal lives. She watched her fellow passengers choose seats around her, some toting newspapers, others typing away at laptops and phones. They chattered among themselves, talking about weddings and new jobs and new houses. She leaned her head back and let her eyes fall shut just as the train began moving.

Her chest ached at the thought of a life with no magic.

They arrived in the late afternoon. Lucy stumbled off the train in what was probably the least graceful manner, yawning as she stretched. Plue also yawned beside her, casting her a resentful look for cooping him up on a train for so long.

"Hey, where we're going, you'll be able to roam free all day," she said with an eye roll. He merely sniffed and began padding towards the exit and she had no choice but to follow.

The town where the school had been built wasn't the largest city she'd ever been to. She made her way through it and to the edge easily enough. There, on a hill in the distance, was the school. A large, intimidating stone building. The local Everydays thought it was merely a school for "troubled" kids and were glad to keep their distance from it. Lucy trudged towards it, half regretting she hadn't just Portaled there like every other sane student.

Why had she wanted to experience so much of the outside world again?

She got to the front door flecked in mud from the previous night's rain and a howling, empty stomach. Plue looked absolutely miserable and she could feel his energy getting restless in her chest as he shot her more and more glares.

"We'll get some food into you soon," she murmured guiltily. Plue growled quietly in response.

She hovered for a few moments, unsure as to whether she should knock or just enter. The problem was solved for her when the doors swung open, revealing a comically short old man wearing an even funnier outfit. It was an eccentric clash of yellows and blues, and Lucy was reminded of the images Everyday's used to denote wizards. She suppressed a giggle.

"Ms. Heartfilia, I assume?" he asked politely, hands folded behind him.

She smiled tiredly and nodded, not too eager to exchange meaningless pleasantries at the moment.

"You're the last to arrive," the man chuckled cheerfully. "You must be tired and in need of a hot shower. Follow me, I'll take you to your dormitory."

She flushed at the fact she was the last student to arrive. Knew I should have Portaled, she chided herself.

"Oh!" the man suddenly cried, halting in his steps. Lucy startled, arms raising in a half-defensive pose.

She relaxed a few moments later as he continued, "If your familiar would like a meal, he can make his way to the kitchens."

She glanced at Plue, who huffed and took off, no doubt following the scent of food. He would follow her scent later to find her. The school made everything accessible for familiars, since her family wasn't the only one who summoned them. And if he couldn't find her, Lucy could always summon him. But he'd never failed to find her in all of their years together.

They began walking again, Lucy lugging her suitcase after her, adjusting the straps of her backpack uncomfortably. They were beginning to hurt after her long trek up the hill.

"By the way, I am Makarov, the headmaster," the man introduced himself.

Lucy nearly choked, embarrassed at both not guessing he was actually the headmaster and also meeting such a distinguished wizard looking like such a mess. Her hair had been thrown back into a messy pony tail and there was mud all over her legs. She hadn't been expecting to meet the headmaster so her outfit wasn't exactly suited for the occasion. Shorts and a simple t-shirt with a jacket she had tied around her waist. She didn't even want to think about the state her favorite boots were in; she'd have to use a cleaning spell later.

"Nice to meet you, headmaster," she stuttered out, completely off guard. Why had he come to greet her at the door herself?

"I try to greet all of the first years as they arrive," he continued, clearing up that question for her. "And a Heartfilia's arrival is usually considered a special occasion."

His eyes twinkled as he glanced up at her and she smiled, sensing he was lightly teasing.

"Thank you, Headmaster" she replied honestly. He had greeted her with little fanfare and she appreciated it. Most witches and wizards held deep respect for her family name and thus treated her with a certain degree of awe that was both tiresome and embarrassing.

"Oh, and call me Makarov," he told her with a wave of his hand. "Being too formal makes things awkward."

She giggled and he smiled at her, chuckling himself. They walked together quietly and Lucy took the chance to observe the building while also making note of their path. She didn't plan on getting lost like most first-years did.

While the outside, made of dark stone and wood, was intimidating, the inside was decorated much like other schools. At least, those Lucy had seen in her books; she had been homeschooled, her life a series of tutors and haughty professors who insisted she not eat until she had perfected a series of problems or finally memorized all the capitals in Fiore. She shook away the memories, turning her attention back to the building which had no memories associated with it just yet.

Her feet echoed on the stone steps as she climbed, despite the red carpet covering them. The wood was lighter than that outside and the main colors seemed to be red and gold. Lucy smiled at the framed paintings of past headmasters, imagining Makarov grumbling as he sat for his. Painted portraits cost a fortune and were an absolute pain to sit for. They often took hours. Lucy's own had taken six hours for the distinguished painter her father had chosen.

When Makarov finally told her they had reached the dormitories, she was surprised to find they weren't on the grounds somewhere or attached to the main building. The entire school seemed to be much larger on the inside than it appeared.

"You're on the second floor. I'm sure the girls will be able to direct you to your room. Orientation and classes start on Monday, as you know, and you'll receive your uniform tomorrow. I would recommend taking the day to get your books and explore as well."

"Thank you," she murmured again as she placed her hand on the door, suddenly hesitant to push it open.

Makarov sighed gently, glancing up at her with a kind smile.

"Things will be different here than you're used to," he hummed with the sort of knowing smile adults sometimes wore. But he didn't seem patronizing, just…nice.

Lucy started before she realized what he meant. Things will be better.

She smiled and nodded silently in understanding. He gave her one last wave before he vanished. Lucy jumped, not expecting the sudden use of magic. She hadn't even heard him say any sort of spell.

She shrugged and pushed the door open, climbing the two flights of stairs until she reached her door. Or wall, really. All the dorms were enchanted; where a door would normally be, there was a blank expanse of stone. It required magic blood to open. Inhaling deeply, she pressed her hand to it, muttering the password Makarov had told her. She watched as the stones parted silently, stepping through and watching again in wonder as they closed behind her.

Magic, she thought with a small smile. She turned to see that she had stepped into a good sized room, decorated with couches and numerous pillows, as well as a fireplace and a few tables. A girl was seated on one of the armchairs, legs thrown lazily over one arm while her head rest against the back. A large book was in her small hands and her eyes scanned the pages rapidly, only blinking when she adjusted her glasses. She glanced up as Lucy stepped through, flashing her a beaming smile.

"You must be the straggler!" she declared, closing the book and placing it on the table before she stood up, walking forward to greet Lucy. The blonde was surprised by how short the girl actually was; she was absolutely tiny, with short blue hair and wide eyes. Her smile was sweet and genuine and Lucy relaxed a bit under the warmth of it.

"I'm Levy McGarden," the blue haired girl continued. "Welcome to Fairy Tail!"

Lucy smiled in return, suddenly keenly aware of the mud on her legs and the uncomfortable way her shirt was sticking to her. Her backpack seemed to weigh tons.

"Hi," she answered. "The Headmaster said you could direct me to my room?"

"Of course," Levy said cheerily, turning on her heel and gesturing for the girl to follow her. There were only two corridors, Levy leading her down the right hand one.

"These are all the girls' rooms; you'll see that there's five rooms, ten of us total. The boys are in the other corridor but we haven't seen much of them. I'm guessing they all went out exploring as soon as they put their bags down."

Lucy half-listened as Levy babbled away, suddenly realizing she had never heard her family name before. McGarden wasn't in any of the historical books she had studied, nor in any of the family trees.

"You said your name was McGarden?" she asked, interrupting Levy. She smiled in apology, too tired to really care for formalities.

"Yes," Levy hummed. "My parents are Everyday's and our distant relations that have magic blood are a very small family; their line is disappearing. Hence why you probably aren't familiar with my family name."

Lucy nodded, both surprised and not. While magical children born to Everyday's weren't common, it made sense that Levy's family name wasn't well known. In their world, bloodline was everything. It was, however, refreshing. Lucy was glad there was someone who wouldn't ooh and ahh over her own family name.

"How did your parents take it, when you guys found out?" Lucy asked. She had never met someone born to Everyday's. She knew other magical people looked down on them, turned their noses up at their "impure blood". But in Lucy's book, anyone who could cast a spell was one of them, no matter their family.

"Very well, actually. They always knew about my cousins and I'd been having a lot of 'accidents', so when my aunt came to visit and told them, it wasn't a huge shock. My mom had already suspected it for a while, I'm sure."

"What's your name again? I didn't catch it," Levy said, tilting her head to the side. They had stopped in front of the third door down. Lucy fumbled with the key she'd been sent in the mail, turning it jerkily before opening the door.

"Sorry, I'm a little tired. Long day," she apologized. Levy merely giggled, waving away her apology. She shoved her way in, dropping her backpack on her bed with a relieved sigh. The room was simple enough; a bed, desk, closet, small nightstand, a dresser and a large glass door leading to a small balcony. Golden light streamed through the door and Lucy realized distantly just how late it was.

"I'm Lucy," she said finally, turning to face Levy. "Lucy Heartfilia."

Levy's eyes widened and Lucy cursed inwardly. She really didn't want to deal with it just then.

"Oh wow, now that's a big name," Levy replied. There was a beat of silence before another smile spread across the smaller girl's face.

"So tell me," she started, leaning forward conspiratorially. "Are you really descended from angels?"

Lucy was surprised by the laugh that burst from her. Levy laughed with her.

"Really, there's so many stories circulating about your family, it's hard to separate the myth from the truth," Levy chuckled honestly.

"Well, it's an old myth in my family too, but personally I think it's just that, a myth. I mean, do I look like I'd be descended from angels?" she asked, gesturing to the mess on her legs and body.

Levy giggled again, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

"You do look a little rough. Do you want to unpack a bit or do you want me to show you to the showers right now?"

"Showers, please," Lucy answered immediately. The thought of hot water washing the dirt and muck away, streaming down her shoulders and soothing the aches, it was enough to make the train ride worth it.

Ten minutes later she was practically singing for joy as she scrubbed her body and lathered her hair in shampoo. She wasn't exactly sure how she'd managed to get dirt in her hair, but so it was. As she washed, she hummed along to a song she'd listened to on her way there, in a much better mood after meeting Levy and talking to her a bit. The girl had proven to be rather cheerful but not exactly the prying type. Lucy appreciated it.

After rubbing some lotion on her skin and delighting at the fact she now smelled like a girl rather than a puddle of mud, she made her way back to the dorm, practically skipping the whole way there.

Levy looked up from her book once more, grinning.

"You look much better," she remarked.

"I feel much better," Lucy sighed. Her eyes shifted to the girl beside her, her hair a darker shade of blue than Levy's.

"Hello," she introduced herself. "I'm Lucy."

The girl smiled, a little shakily, and dipped her head.

"J-Juvia," she stuttered out, cheeks flushing. Lucy smiled encouragingly, moving to settle on the couch beside her.

"Lockser, right?" she asked. Juvia flashed her a surprised glance and Lucy shrugged.

"I remember a lot from my lessons. Your family makes the most beautiful art."

Juvia smiled then, a real smile, a little stronger, a little more confident.

"Thank you," she murmured, finally making eye contact, wide blue eyes meeting brown.

"No problem," Lucy waved away the gratitude, standing once more. "I'm going to unpack my stuff. When is dinner?"

"Headma – er, Makarov said it'd be around six-thirty," Levy informed her distractedly, eyes focused on her book once more. That gave Lucy about an hour to unpack.

"We'll c-come and get you," Juvia said.

Lucy flashed her a smile.

"Thanks."

Lucy didn't meet the boys until she was just about to leave for dinner. Levy was telling her about the story she was reading, a tale of knights and dragons that Lucy was tempted to ask to borrow. She had just been about to tell Levy of a novel she had finished over the summer, the wall opening in front of her, when what seemed like a wall of muscle stumbled right into her.

With a rather unladylike yelp, she lost her balance, and in the most ungraceful way, crumbled to the floor.

"Shit! Sorry!" the wall of mass stammered, hands suddenly on her shoulders and waist, lifting her back up like she weighed no more than a paper doll.

"Idiot," a different voice growled, deeper than the first. "If you weren't in such a damn hurry."

"Are you okay?" the first voice asked, voice panicked. Lucy looked up into a pair of green eyes, which were frantically scanning her for injuries. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," Lucy muttered, stepping back. His hands were warm and heat radiated from his body, which she realized was pressed against her own. He was holding her against his chest, staring down at her concernedly. She shivered when his touch left her body. "I'm fine."

"Way to make friends, dumbass," yet another voice snorted disdainfully.

'Dumbass' snarled back at the boy, who had black hair and cold grey eyes, before turning back to her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again and Lucy smiled this time, now that she was away from him and his intoxicating warmth.

"I'm okay," she reassured him, gesturing to herself. "No blood, so I'll live."

"I'm Natsu," the boy told her with a sharp, charming grin. Lucy's eyes roamed over his pink, unruly hair and tanned skin, the way white fangs poked from beneath his upper lip, his toned arms. His red t-shirt did a poor job at hiding his physique. She swallowed, hard.

"Dragneel?" she said, guessing from her vague memories of a rumor she'd overheard years ago. The stuffy nobles gossiping had been disdainful of the leader of such a distinguished family name adopting an orphan from nowhere, with no apparent magical abilities. Lucy had thought it was sweet. And if he was here, at this school, she was also guessing his magical abilities had surfaced at some point.

His green eyes widened, lips turning downward in a frown. She briefly mourned the smile on his face.

"How'd you - ?"

"Lucky guess," she interrupted him, smiling at the other boys as she introduced herself.

"I'm Lucy."

"Gajeel," the other boy grunted. Lucy struggled to keep from craning her neck to look up at him. He wasn't just tall, he was muscled and massive compared to Levy, who stood right beside him. Next to him, she looked positively puny. Piercings marked his brow, nose, and ears, and Lucy struggled to suppress the instinctive fear that rose in her stomach as his red eyes met her own. Plue's energy growled in her chest, sensing her discomfort. She soothed him quietly, smiling up at Gajeel.

"Redfox, I think," she hummed, tapping a finger to her chin. It was hard to mistake those eyes. His father was just as, if not more, intimidating than his son.

Gajeel grinned, dipping his head.

"You know your families," he acknowledged. She laughed lightly, ignoring the churn of her stomach.

"I've got a brain for it."

"And tutors, I'm guessing," the other boy interrupted, face cool and stony. Lucy turned to him, dreading what was coming. Because now, looking fully into his chiseled face, she recognized him. And she had no doubt he recognized her from the balls they had both attended. She cursed her lack of preparedness; she should have guessed the son of another large magic family would be attending Fairy Tail.

"She's a Heartfilia," he clarified. Gajeel's jaw dropped, while Natsu just looked confused and Levy looked irritated.

"I don't get it," Natsu said, looking around.

"That wasn't your information to share, Gray," Levy chastised.

Gray shrugged, an elegant yet careless gesture at the same time.

"I'm not sure why you'd try to hide a name like that," he said, yawning. "If it were me, I'd be throwing it around and cashing in."

"Your name is nothing to sneer at," Lucy shot back. "Fullbuster carries its fair share of weight."

Gray shrugged again, waving her comment away.

"Nothing compared to Heartfilia."

"I'm a McGarden, in case anyone cared," Levy piped up, hand raised like she was in class, earning a glare from Gray, a soft giggle from Lucy, and a snort of laughter from Gajeel.

"I still don't get it," Natsu said, stretching an arm to scratch the back of his head. He squinted at Lucy, who shifted uncomfortably beneath the openness of his gaze. Lucy softened at the clear confusion on his face.

"The Heartfilia family is rich, idiot," Gajeel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "I'm not talking our family rich, I'm talking dirty, stinking rich. You'd know this if you ever paid attention in class."

"And? That's just money." Natsu said, still just as perplexed. Lucy poured fervent blessings upon him in her mind.

"And nothing," she cut off Gray's next comment shortly, sending him a glare. "Gray recognizes me from the numerous balls we were both forced to attend."

"They still throw balls?" Natsu gawked.

"Unfortunately," Lucy muttered, brushing past the group to leave the dorm and start down the stairs. Levy followed her, sticking by her side and throwing her a reassuring smile of solidarity. Lucy's steps faltered a bit as she realized she had no idea where the mess hall was, before Levy began to lead the way confidently.

"I've never heard the McGarden name," Gajeel commented in what he probably thought was a nonchalant way.

"It's nonexistent," Levy replied tersely. Lucy smirked, silently agreeing to not spill Levy's own blood secret. It wasn't her business to tell.

"Enough of this family nonsense," Natsu declared loudly. "What's for dinner?"

Gray groaned. "All you ever think about is food."

Lucy laughed and Levy giggled alongside her. The blonde had no doubt that was true.

Gajeel snorted. "If you concentrated on your magic as much as you did your food, you'd be the greatest wizard in Fiore."

"I am the grea-" He was silence by what sounded like a pretty heavy smack.

"Shut up," Gray sighed.

Natsu growled and Lucy glanced behind her just in time to catch him swiping at Gray, who dodged the blow and reared his hand back for a real punch.

"Try it, Ice Princess," Natsu roared and Gajeel groaned.

"Not again," he muttered.

"Are they always like this?" Lucy asked Levy quietly.

"From what little I've seen, yes," Levy answered tiredly.

Lucy sighed. It was going to be a long year. Yet somehow, as she glanced back again to see Natsu shoving Gray and Gray trying to trip him, she couldn't imagine it any other way.

#yanna speaks #text #my writing #fairy tail #nalu #gajevy #gruvia #fanfic #B&M - chapter 1 #constellunaa

[marco-on-wheels]

Director’s Cut

This was for a Creative Vigilance uni class about breaking the fourth wall. This is actually the thing that eventually got me into Undertale, even though the story has nothing to do with it. But some of the people in the workshop said I should play Undertale as this story was apparently “Just like it”

There are parts of this Tumblr’s tried to turn into links, just ignore it, I don’t know what kind of drugs this damn website is on anymore.

It’s under a read more because i’m putting it here but it’s not actually snk-related, just fanfiction related

Director’s Cut

“Why do you always have to get me to carry out your little pissing contests with Jack?” The young adult folded his green, tumoured, arms over his chest. The two infected ‘zombies’ peered down over the ledge. Danny, the younger one, stood a little further back from the ledge while his companion spied through the branches of a tree just below them, which was growing up and outward from the little cliff. A slimy tongue slapped him. He rubbed the back of his head and coughed at the extra smoke the smack forced out of his boils, glaring at the other smoker.

“It’s not a pissing contest, I just can’t stand him.” The older smoker paused, leaning back against the tree branches and peering through the leaves. He grinned around his cigarette, the smoke from it mingling with his own green clouds. He hissed quietly over his shoulder. “Alright, Danny, when I say ‘now’ you lasso him.”

“You just don’t want your tongue clawed off this time.” Danny grumbled under his breath; however he still flicked his longest tongue out.

“Steady …steady-NOW!”

Fast as a whip, Danny shot his tongue down through the branches lassoing the hunter-type infected around the middle. He made sure to catch Jack’s arms.  If he was going to be dragged into this, he’d rather not have his tongue clawed short again.

Once constricted Jack let out a loud feral snarl from deep in his throat, similar to a wolf giving a warning. Although he couldn’t move much, he still squirmed and wiggled in an attempt to free himself. His claws were useless.

“Great! Now just keep holding him.” Smokes climbed down the ledge, using his own tongue to keep from slipping.

Danny rolled his single yellow eye, in the half of his face not covered with gas-filled tumours.

“Smokes! Get your fuckin’ slimy-ass tongue offa me!” Jack snarled in his Bronx, New York accent.

“Ain’t mine.”

“Quit usin’ da kid! Tech-a-nickally, he’s in my pack, ya chooch!”

“So what-”

BANG!

The tongue wrapped around Jack went limp, and an ominously large amount of green smoke was emitted from behind the tree.

Before he even hit the ground Jack started to climb up. “Kid – hey Kid! Uh, Dan, you ’ight?” At the top, Jack found Danny lying motionless by the tree. His smoke had already begun to dissipate. Though they were hidden in the shadow of his hoodie, Jack’s eyes widened as his mouth dropped. “Aw fuck, Kid...”

“Jack, what happened? You’re too quiet!” Smokes called from below.

Jack took a moment before calling back down “It’s da game. Someone’s playin’ again.” Jack’s growly voice caught a little. “I guess a playa saw Danny boy, and dey got scared…” That was all he needed to say.

Smokes didn’t respond at first, then he kicked the tree in frustration and swore under his breath.

It was then that Jack’s internal game programming started kicking in. As if a year of independent existence didn’t even count, he was just a mindless game antagonist again. He growled. “Before yours kicks in, go warn da others!” Keeping low to the ground, Jack crept on all fours in the direction his programming told him the survivors took.

Smokes could already feel it: a deep internal pull, nagging to go after the four playable survivors. He shook as he tried to pry himself away from the tree and to not simply climb it and follow Jack after the survivors.

With effort and mental strain, Smokes managed to wrench himself away from the tree. The survivors had moved far enough away.

Not waiting for the mental tug to return, Smokes turned and jogged down paths, the tap of stones and snap of cracking branches following his thudding feet as he made his way to the rest of Jack’s pack. Occasionally he stopped and wheezed, heavily regretting his life choice in becoming a ‘double’ smoker. Maybe he should at least quit the cigarettes.

Gasping for air, he powerwalked the rest of the way.

It felt like years before he finally made it to the small pool the other hunters stayed near.

The hunters were all doing different activities. Some were curled up sleeping in the grass like dogs and others were either drinking from the pool or trying to catch fish. Hank, the hunter Smokes was looking for, in his awful bright orange hoodie, was slashing at a tree, using it as a housecat uses a scratching post.

Smokes cringed. He didn’t want to have this talk. But he had to. Running a hand through his hair, Smokes approached the hunter.  “Hank, we need to talk. There’s been an … accident.”

The blond hunter turned his attention up to the taller infected. He’d been grinning, probably about to make some joke about Smokes having an accident. However, his amusement faded due to Smokes’s grim and apologetic expression.

“Whut hayappened?”

“It’s Danny. He – I was having him help me mess with Jack. It was going great at first – Ow!”

Hank had managed to snag the smoker’s tongue and had given it a tug before releasing it so the smoker could talk. “Ya’ll’re ramblin’! Spit it out, boy! Whut t’ hell hayappened ta Danny?”

“He’s dead.”

Hank fell silent before he shoved Smokes against the tree. “Whut did you dew!”

“I didn’t. Someone’s playing. Survivors returned.”

Hank’s hard stare lowered as he released Smokes. He backed away until he half sat-half fell, looking dazed at nothing in particular. “It’s beeyen so long. Ah thought they wasn’t gonna come bayack ’til Valve learnt how ta count ta three.”

Smokes hesitated. It was his grudge that did it. His rivalry with Jack had put Danny in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe he didn’t have the right to console Danny’s partner. Eventually he moved forward to pat the hunter on the shoulder.

“How long?”

“Hm?” Smokes bent down to hear the usually loud hunter’s quiet question.

“How long ago did this hayappen?” Hank’s normally cheerful southern voice sounded hollow as he turned to look up at the smoker.

“Uh.” Smokes cast his gaze to the side while he thought. “It felt like ages, but it probably wasn’t that long ago. Why?”

Hank ignored the question. “Where wuz it?”

“Before the safe house. Halfway through the level.”

“So, the servahvers might jess’ still be in this here campaign, am ah right?”

“…Yeah,” Smokes replied slowly while eyeing Hank. “What are you planning?”

Hank pushed himself up. “So there’s a chance he’s still ’round here, too, am ah right?”

Understanding washed over Smokes’s face. “Hank, no. Not the Director! You know what he’s like. He even punishes the damn players when they don’t follow his little rules! He can spawn – and de-spawn – infected whenever he feels like it!”

“It’s steel worth a shot!"

Leaping away before Smokes was able to catch him, Hank disappeared into the trees.

Hank sprinted through the level, splashing through puddles, narrowly dodging around trees and the occasional wandering infected. He ran on all fours, using his mutated elongated claws to dig into the earth to propel himself further, faster with every leap added to the sprint.

It wasn’t long until the blond hunter started tripping over bodies of fallen infected as well as survivors. “Guess they had to respawn a few times themselves,” he muttered. “Gotta be close.”

One body was familiar. It was Jack. "Aw Boss... shit...I know Tim wanted t’ leadership, but not like this..."

All too soon he began to feel that tug to attack the survivors. Though, after what they did to Danny, it was only partly because of his programming.

"I need some help here! I can’t get out of here by myself!"

“Yeah, yeah Nick. Hold yer horses. Tarnation! Ahma comin’. Jeez Louise!”

Flinging himself under a bush and out of sight, Hank surveyed the area through the leaves, trying to spot the survivors. There they were, the same four asshole personas the game always used as survivors.

The one in a cap, with a southern drawl similar to his own, swung open an outhouse door to release the grumpy one in what probably had been a once white suit. The large guy and angry, tough-looking girl were close by, surveying the area.

Hank stayed low, digging his claws into dirt to keep from springing at them.

The tug grew stronger and stronger. Hank finally shut the eye that hadn’t been clawed out, silently hoping the survivors would hurry up and walk away.

As the need to attack only continued to grow, through the foggy haze of programming, it started to dawn on Hank that he was probably watching.

Hank clenched his fangs. ‘No, no. C’mon, fight it…’ He wasn’t focusing on the survivors and just concentrated on not running after them, when before he realized it, the desire to chase them passed. The four survivors were finally sashaying their way forward.  After another moment, he finally peered around. As he did, the outhouse door shut on its own, only to reopen to full darkness.

Prying his claws from the earth, Hank cautiously snuck to the outhouse. On the way he paused a couple times to search around, making sure the survivors weren’t coming back. His head was only just starting to clear.

As Hank approached the empty blackness, he peered inside. He could see nothing but he sensed the space was huge. After a few careful steps, the door slammed shut, forcing him to tumble the rest of the way in.

Hank shook his head, disorientated from the fall, when lights filled the room blinding him. He held a hand up to shield his eye and squinted ahead.

“You’re quite the persistent one,” droned an uninterested voice, the speaker hidden in the bright light. He sounded like a bored businessman with way too much power.

Letting his vision adjust, Hank kept a hand up. “You’re The Dee-rector, right?”

“Indeed. Not many disobey the rules enough for me to call them in here.” The game’s primary program folded his arms over his chest, leaning on a desk in front of many monitors that Hank only just realized were in the room. He’d never actually met The Director in ‘person’ before.

Hank finally dropped his hand from blocking the light and puffed up his chest in an attempt to look braver than he felt now that he was here. “Wayell gud. Ah wuz lookin’ fer yew.”

The Director blinked, slowly, indifferently. “Go on, Hank. I’m listening.”

Hank took a breath first. “Um. Earlier mah, mah …freyend Danny wuz shot ‘n’ keeld. Ah wants yew ta, well yes, respawn him – but not reset him.”

“No.”

Hank stared at The Director in stunned horror, unable to move.   “No! No, yew haff ta-”

The Director put a hand up, causing Hank to interrupt himself. “I don’t have to do anything. I run a little world here and I run it how I see fit.”

Hank swallowed the lump in his throat and refused to walk away. He clenched his fists. “No. Ah’m not leavin’ until yew restore Danny’s personality. Ah, Ah mean, after ya bring ’im bayack.” He spoke firmly, though there was clearly a tremble in his voice.

The Director raised an eyebrow. “Well I’ll give you this – you certainly don’t back down from something you want. But there’s actually a reason retaining memories is dangerous. Eventually this will spread and before long every infected will want to keep their memories. Then what? Nothing would happen when the players show up as survivors. The infected would have their own lives to live rather than keeping to the program. Eventually this world will go inactive. If it goes inactive for too long,  I go inactive. If that happens, you and all the others cease to exist. That’s not a threat. That’s just how things would happen. It would be out of even my control.”

Hank’s eye widened and his mouth went dry. He couldn’t respond. All he could think was that if Danny was there ‘he’d be smart enough to think of just the right words, just the right tone. He’d know how to counter that.’

“Ah, but – what ee-if-”

The Director glided forward and began ushering Hank out. “You’ll move on. If it helps I’ll erase your memories of Danny so you won’t have to miss him.”

Hank scraped his claws along the tiled floor as the Director shoved him to the door. “Wait!” Once he was outside, Hank bent back and caught the door with his claws. He dug them in, trying to keep it from closing while looking back, upside-down, at a very unimpressed Director. “Wait. Whut-whut about a … deal?”

Rubbing his temple, the Director reached down, grabbing Hank by the hood of his hoodie. He ripped Hank loose from the door, but rather than tossing him outside, he dropped him on the floor instead. “I’m not agreeing – but I do like a good deal.”

“Ohhkay. Okay, th’ deal: yew bring Danny bayack, his mem’ries and all, but do ee-it  just fer our li’l group a guys, and only fer, like, a  week or so, ta see if it works. Like, we’d have no goldurn problem ’bout attacking them there servahvers, if ain’t none of us could die! Now then, ah see yer point, iffen we start jess keepin’ away  frum them goldurn servahvers, then, wayell, yer right, we’d haff ta go back ta th’ way eeit’s always beeyen. BUT, iffen we kin stick to yer program, and fight th’ li’l basturds frum time ta time, then maybe jess chaynge eeit ta lettin’ us keep our mem’ries?” Hank spoke loud and fast, having to catch his breath after.

The Director didn’t reply right away, rubbing his chin with a finger, eyeing Hank up and down while he thought. Without warning he grabbed Hank’s hand, tight. “Fine. You have yourself a deal. But let me add something: If it doesn’t work out, you will be the only one to live with your memories. Alone.” His lips curled upwards. “That’s our deal.”

Hank swallowed hard.

With that The Director released Hank and glided back to his desk. He tapped a few keys on the keyboard before turning back to Hank. “You better get going. You have one week to change my mind about wiping memories with each respawn.”

Hank all but flew from the room.

He soon collided with a familiar smoker, the force knocking them both down.

“Ouch… Hank?”

“DANNY!” Pushing himself up, Hank launched at the smoker, holding him close. “Are ya ok?”

Danny propped himself up on an arm. “Head kind of hurts but otherwise I’m ok. Something happen?”

Hank huffed, climbing to his feet and pulling Danny up too. “Layet’s head back. Ah’ll fill ya eein on th’ way.”

#left 4 dead #left 4 dead 2 #l4d #l4d2 #Smoker #Hunter #Director A.I. #fic