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#i was trying to pull him out of a low shrub where there was cat poo
jakemyboy · 1 year
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My Blu Blu, I still love him dearly. But I'm so upset right now. Apparently the new style harness is not magic. He got around the first corner so well....and then stopped. No pleading, treat luring, comforting, acting excited to go forward, dragging a few inches, would change his mind. There were no scary sounds. I'm going back to his old harness, I saw potential for this style to slip over his head. I walked a 90 pound Jake on Blu's old harness, in all situations, and Jake was a mighty freight train of a puller, lunger and spinner, and never once did I feel that harness had potential to slip off. What will be will be, maybe there will be days like the last two where he walked confidently. As long as he is happy to go out there at all, I suppose that is a good thing.
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wincore · 4 years
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wasted nights | liu yangyang
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pairing: yangyang x reader
words: 5.5k
summary: firstly, you don’t think you should have survived this long. secondly, this might be the zombie apocalypse but your survival doesn’t feel as threatened by zombies as it does by liu yangyang. thirdly, you’ve chosen the worst time to develop a crush.
genre: zombie apocalypse!au, fluff, humour(?)
warnings: mention of injuries & blood, violence (against zombies), dumbassery, do not attempt during an actual zombie apocalypse
song rec(s): wasted nights - one ok rock 
a/n: october birthdays get halloween specials~ although this one is just full of unnecessary appearances by cats. also campfires because october campfires hit different. (i’m definitely saying this because i was born in october) also not me writing this as a joke and reaching 5.5k words </3
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It’s two hours till sundown. 
What would you be doing on a day within the ordinary? Likely getting back from after school activities, chatting with a friend or feeding the stray kittens by the school building, or maybe pretending Liu Yangyang doesn’t exist—the possibilities were endless. Now there’s only one.
“Yangyang,” you call, more worried than not.
On a day out of the ordinary, you wish you hadn’t prayed for your exam to get cancelled the day all of this broke out. You wouldn’t be scavenging like some sort of rodent and you wouldn’t be standing at the gates of an abandoned shrine, though now is undoubtedly a better time to pray. It’s not the best of situations (especially not with a certain little rascal attached to your side). 
And understatements are definitely your thing now.
“Yangyang,” you call a little louder this time, eyes shifting around the shrine area. 
Should you step in? He asked you to wait, the stone steps now looking a little glum without him skipping over them. The only signs of life you’ve seen around has been a family of raccoons looking rather smug and a single spotted dove preening itself atop a branch. The lack of visibility into the forest surrounding the shrine bothers you, like something could jump out any minute and you suck your teeth, growing annoyed. Where is that boy?
You tap your foot against the ground soundlessly. What if a zombie were to pop out? They might be slow but the sight of them is still gross enough to paralyze you. Yangyang has his baseball bat with him, which leaves you defenseless in terms of weapons. Still, it’s not like the bat would have done you any good. You are, in the truest sense of the word, average at any sort of combat and freezing at the limbs comes to you more naturally. Zombies are not fun; whatever nonsense Yangyang has been trying to explain to you for weeks is optional, as is every other suggestion that comes from his mouth. It’s quiet and quiet, creepy shrines have never been your favourite place in the city.
You hear a low growl behind you, stiffening at the sound. Best case scenario, it’s a big rat. You’d rather not think of the worst case. Eventually, you gather some courage and turn slowly only to jump back with a short scream. 
Yangyang takes the old festival mask off to reveal a giant grin on his face, urging you to knock it right off. The anger that follows is natural and he should be used to it by now. Yangyang continues smiling, as if he didn’t just pull your soul right out of your body, and when he opens his mouth to say something, you’re quick to land a swift punch to his gut. He lets out a pained cry, dropping to the ground in a squat.
“Don’t do that,” you seethe. “Why can’t you greet me normally?”
“I’m okay!” He signals a thumbs up while the other hand clutches his stomach. 
“I didn’t ask.”
He moves his hand to place it over his chest. “Ow. Oh, and to answer your question, it’s because you don’t want to do my special handshake with me.”
“Hm. Get up. You said there were supplies here. What did you find?”
He pouts, finally getting up. “I can’t believe you’re just using me for supplies.”
You cross your arms. “Just get up already.”
Yangyang springs up despite the (admittedly) strong blow to his stomach and presents to you the plastic bag he’d been holding. In any other circumstances, it would spark some disapproval on your behalf but it turns out, those things do outlive most everything. For a moment, the ridiculous image of pulling a plastic bag over a zombie’s head crosses your mind. 
Yangyang finally responds, taking out whatever items he recovered. Not everything is useful however; he’s simply taken to collecting knick-knacks. 
“I found toothbrushes! Maybe your breath will stop stinking—”
You raise your clenched fist as a threat.
“—I was kidding. Obviously. You have lovely breath.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose in an attempt to contain your exasperation. 
“Also, I found clean water so I filled up some bottles and yeah, I couldn’t find much else but oh! There was this huge cat and I mean huge like a big chonk kinda guy, you know? And I’m sure he was, like, trying to tell me something, like, he kept hissing when I went near him but…”
You wonder if Yangyang ever gets tired from speaking so fast, his words fading out of your comprehension. You shake your head, clearing your throat.
“Can we leave now?”
Yangyang raises an eyebrow, almost smirking as the gears in his head turn.
“You’re not… superstitious, are you?” he asks. “I heard there’s a lot of reported sightings of ghosts here.”
“No,” you blurt, quick to deny. Yangyang might have seen you crying after getting lost in the dark, almost fainting after encountering a zombie for the first time or even in deep sorrow after you lost your friend—but there’s still part of your dignity to protect before you can admit your fear of ghosts. There’s just something about this abandoned shrine; there are no visitors apart from the caretaker and if loneliness is responsible for anything, it’s making lonely things seem a whole lot scarier. You’d rather leave before the sun sets.
Yangyang laughs. “Who do you think would win in a fight? Zombies or ghosts?”
You roll your eyes. “That’s so stupid. Obviously ghosts.”
“No. Okay, maybe. I just think…”
There he goes again. 
You wonder if he was always this way—when you passed him by in the hallways, when he shot you a polite smile at club meetings or when you saw him being loud with his friends blocking part of the sidewalk. You’re sure he couldn’t have been entirely sane.
“Oh my god.”
Yangyang’s voice jerks you back to the present. You follow his line of sight to a cardboard box beneath a particularly dense shrub; it's a large one—quite possibly a carton of some commercial product which doesn’t matter anymore. However, it’s not the details of the box itself so much as it is the contents that grab your attention. 
You can almost see the sparkle in Yangyang’s eyes as he views the cats huddled together inside the box. They don’t seem to mind each other within their personal space—you count four of them, tightly packed and eyes closed in a late afternoon nap. How the box hasn’t ripped apart yet is quite a mystery, and what’s more troubling is how at ease they seem to be with the entire human race in disarray.
You grab Yangyang by the collar before he can make his way to them.
“Don’t harass them,” you say, massaging your temples. “Jesus, it’s like they’re glued to each other. Do they have to be in the same box?”
“It might just be the last cardboard box left on earth.” Yangyang shrugs.
The cats mind their own business, grooming their fur or closing their eyes in an odd sort of bliss. You wonder what it would be like to be so unbothered by all the chaos. It reminds you of someone.
“Come on,” you urge, thinking back to older times. “Don’t think I forgot how much you used to bother old Louis back then.”
Louis was the university cat, fed with so much love that he eventually started avoiding people like the plague. You wonder how he’s holding up for a brief moment.
“Don’t think I forgot how you were back then too.”
“What do you mean?” you snap, glaring at him.
“You were already a zombie,” he says before engaging in a cheap mimicry of you, drooping his eyelids and taking slow steps muttering, “I… must… maintain… gpa… grr.”
You almost take off your shoe to throw it at him before deciding it’s not worth your time. Ah, if only you had done that during club meetups, perhaps you’d have felt better about him joining. Everyone treated him so differently, and you hate to admit you now understand why. 
Everyone loves a good troublemaker.
And there happens to be another thing special about your sole competitor for the debate club’s president position. Apart from his strange antics (charms, he says), even this virus—this fuckall literal killer virus can’t infect him. He’s immune—an occurrence with a possibility lower than you finding him attractive. (There, you said it.)
You look at Yangyang still talking about Louis and a small smile crosses your face. You’d feed your right arm to a zombie before you admitted it but it’s nice having him around. You furrow your brows at the sudden familiar bubbling in your chest and shove it away in a flash before your conscious decides to tell you what it is. 
Your heart jumps to your throat when you make eye contact with Yangyang, turning away in a rather awkward manner. Oh, the end of the world does awful things to you.
“Are you listening?” Yangyang raises an eyebrow. “Oh my god, you weren’t listening at all.”
You roll your eyes. “I was distracted.”
“By me?” he offers in a sing-song voice, prompting a smack from you. It’s easier to pretend this way.
Yangyang massages his shoulder with a huff. “Why are you hitting me so much today? I’ve counted like eight and the day’s only just over.”
“Sorry,” you mumble before clearing your throat. “I mean, you’ve also said something annoying, like, more than eight times today.”
“I’m not annoying.”
There’s a pause.
“Okay, maybe a little bit.”
The sun starts to lay in rest by the time you reach the city. Compared to the green, red and yellow of the yet standing shrine, this place is in dull monochrome with the occasional coloured signs that flicker to life. You force yourself to think but have a hard time remembering if it was always this way. Was it any different with the rushing cars or apathetic crowds? You can’t tell. You were part of them, after all. 
“Hey, how about a bottle flip challenge but with traffic cones?” Yangyang thinks aloud, walking backwards as you pass by a particularly well-lit alley. 
You roll your eyes in response. Is it the lack of people making him that way? Your unflustered companion looks at home among neon lights, all of them seeming to point towards him as an answer to a question you haven’t quite figured out yet. 
You glance at the alley just a second longer. The electric lanterns still glow red, and although dim, there are many. The shops almost look like you could enter and be greeted with a crowd of university kids or a group of office workers drinking away in celebration of the weekend. You sigh. It’s most certainly deserted inside; there’s no doubt. At the most, the tables are still arranged neatly and the meat grills aren’t completely rusted. You wonder if it’s a Friday.
There was never much grass in the city but whatever growth there was has withered into a mustard yellow or a lamenting grey. An empty city is hardly appealing, but you can’t deny the ill-favored things you’ve done the past few months in the absence of people—a part of you questioning whether breaking into supermarkets is still against the law when no one’s around to keep it. You smile at the memory of Yangyang pushing you around in a shopping cart, though you’d gotten drunk off the (stolen) liquor prior. The neon lights hanging as a banner over sketchy shops sometimes spark alive before dying down over and over again, and to be fair, you don’t think they ever shined too bright. Ironically, they’re the liveliest thing about the city now. 
The sky’s soaked in ink at a time you assume to be around seven in the evening. You walk closer to Yangyang without realizing; it’s not often you’ve been out this late the past few months.
“Hey.” Yangyang snaps you out of your daze. “Be careful.”
The words are strange coming from him but you understand why. You look up ahead with caution and a shiver runs down your spine as you stare at the intersection, a lone, tattered figure droning aimlessly. It’s only one, you tell yourself. And they’re slow.
The memories of your previous encounters send warnings over your skin, shivers begging you to run as fast as you can. You would if it weren’t for Yangyang’s grip on your hand, tugging you forward gently and though it’s something he does every time, you wonder if he knows how you’re really feeling. His footsteps are soundless, with the same red sneakers he’s worn since the beginning of this but something tells you it’s not the shoes that give him a cat’s footfall. The purple lights flicker on and off over the shop on the opposite street, the suddenness of it making you latch onto Yangyang for a short-lived moment. You’re quick to let go, throat too dry to make any sound. 
You curve around what would be a straight path, careful not to be in the creature’s line of sight when you cross. The streets seem wider when they’re so empty, and somehow it feels more unlawful this way. Yangyang signals to you to stay closer, and you follow before bumping into his back when he stops abruptly. There’s absolutely no sound, the feeling in your gut much worse than at the shrine.
“Something’s wrong,” Yangyang whispers.
A strangled shriek erupts from your mouth when something launches itself onto the two of you, making you land on your butt. You would’ve placed your hands over your eyes, but you’ve learned how to be less of a coward these past few days. 
A shaky breath leaves you. A cat. It was a stray cat. The little asshole looks at you with almost twinkling eyes, tail swishing from side to side before deciding you’re not worth its time. Your shoulders sag, a moment of relief despite your stiff muscles.
“Uh, (name)?”
You look up only for your stomach to fill with dread. The zombie from before is staring directly at the two of you, the same vacant look in its eyes that has haunted you for the entirety of the apocalypse.
“It’s okay, he’s too slow,” Yangyang reminds you, voice barely a whisper as he helps you stand.
“We can just take the other street—it’s a little longer but it’s mostly safe and there’s no way he can—”
Yangyang is interrupted by a sickening growl from behind you and you jump back. There’s another one. And another. You count four more before holding back a swear. Yangyang grabs you by the shoulder and the two of you take a step back, onto the sidewalk. There’s a shop behind you; you read a smeared sign above the plastic door curtains indicating a dumpling place. Even if you were to hide in there, there’s no guarantee you’d be safe. 
But if you’ve learned anything in these months, it’s that anything is always better than nothing.
The night has settled in completely, you realize. You’re about to tug Yangyang to the inside as you turn around, only to freeze up in your spot. A pale woman emerges from the store, her makeup still fresh but you know that look, the look in her eyes. How cruel.
“Please,” she mumbles, taking a step towards you and you think you might just cry. It’s not long before she turns, you think with dread.
You stumble back to Yangyang when she emits a blood curdling screech, lunging at you and to either your alarm or worse, relief, Yangyang pushes you back. You watch with wide eyes as the woman sinks her teeth into his arm, nausea growing at the sight of blood. He moves fast though, his arm swinging the baseball bat to meet the woman in the head, hard enough to knock her out. In these few moments, one of the zombies is close enough to reach an arm out towards you and you swear you can hear the horrid sound of his bones cracking when you step back. The longer you remain in this state, the slower you are. You suppose you should take comfort in these words but when you look at it, you still see a man.
Hollow. They’re all hollow. 
You take a deep breath.
Just as the thought crosses your head, you see Yangyang swing his bat again, meeting the zombie on the head and much to your wide-eyed horror, the head flies off into the dumpling shop and the body reacts with just about as much confusion as you do. It wildly waves about its hands in the now vacant spot before crumpling onto the road with a quiet realization.
Yangyang makes a face, pressing his knuckle to his mouth to prevent himself from what you presume is gagging. However, when you look closely, he seems to be holding back a laugh instead and very painfully so. You know he has a habit of laughing at the most inappropriate times but this, it really takes the cake.
“Home run?” he suggests, turning to you with a sheepish half-grin. There’s no hint of malice in his voice and you think that it’s probably not that he enjoys swinging his baseball bat at zombies. 
“You’re disgusting,” you reply, shaking your head.
“Maybe I should leave you here then.” 
You can’t believe he has the gall to be cheeky with blood running down his arm and four of the undead drooling at the sight of you two. 
“Do you think we can find ingredients that aren’t stale here? I miss having dumplings.”
“Yangyang.”
“Okay, okay.”
The other ones are still far enough and the two of you take this chance to run off towards the street Yangyang mentioned earlier and safely out of view. You notice him panting heavier than before, and your eyes scan over his arm in worry. The bite is ugly, red with oozing blood, and you hold back the urge to ask him if he’s anaemic. 
Yangyang follows your eyes before an ‘ah’ leaves his lips. He spins his head to the right, trying to catch a glimpse of the wound in the same manner a dog chases after its own tail. He puts the bat down to try and twist his arm to see the injury but you stop him, clicking your tongue at his silly behaviour.
“You’re not twelve, Yangyang,” you scold. “Let’s get back to the hotel first.”
He shrugs, and you think some provoking words are ready to leave his mouth when he simply picks up his bat and walks off. You blink before quickening your steps to catch up with him. The blood dripping down his forearm makes you feel a little unwell but you know better than to touch infections.
It takes around fifteen minutes longer than usual to reach the hotel—Yangyang was right. It is safer here, with no zombies lurking around the corners. He must have been out late when he was scouting, you think with distaste.
You reach the now-rusting gates of your haven without trouble and the moment you reach, Yangyang falls to his knees, heaving a breath he seems to have been holding. You rush to him, eyes frantic when you reach your hand out to him, and he flinches, moving away from you.
“Don’t,” he mutters before getting up. “You turning into a real zombie would be my personal nightmare.”
It’s not enough to curb your worry but you follow him nonetheless, the stupid, wavering grin on his face making you unable to decipher what he’s really feeling. 
The familiar smell of honeysuckle washes into you as you pass by the entrance, locking the door behind you as Yangyang falls onto one of the chairs in the lobby. Kunhang happened to be passing by, a muffled swear leaving him when he sees the blood on Yangyang’s arm.
“You didn’t touch him, did you?” he asks, pulling on his gloves to further see the wound. A former med student is the best you have here, and somehow, you’ve never seen him complain about having to take care of someone as bothersome as Yangyang. 
You shake your head in reply to Kunhang and watch as he runs from shelf to shelf to procure more bandages than you’ve ever seen in your life. You’ve been seeing an awful lot lately. 
“We’re going to run out of bandages in a week if he keeps this up,” Kunhang says with a frown, moving so fast you can barely see his hands. “He’ll be okay, I guess. The virus just makes him dizzy.”
He’s probably thinking the same thing you are. Something serious happening to Yangyang is a little bit of a miracle. Maybe he’ll finally be set right in the head. 
Even so, you know Kunhang is worried despite his quick response, his frown lines deepening once he’s done wrapping up. He sighs before waltzing off to discard his gloves.
It’s not that you aren’t impressed by Kunhang; you’ve just seen him do that too many times to count. And of course, it’s mostly Yangyang on the receiving end. They might be good friends but this also happens to be the only time they're serious together. Moreover, Kunhang seems to beat Yangyang in the talking-for-twelve-hours-straight department. You have to admit though, being in charge of first aid for the few people stuck in this hotel is not an easy business. 
You take a seat opposite to Yangyang, dozing off in his chair and wonder if you should wipe the drool off his chin. Disgusting, you think to yourself, but another part of you dares to offer the word cute. 
The best thing about barricading yourself in a hotel during the apocalypse is not having to worry about beds. There’s at least five hundred rooms in this skyrise, more than enough for, what, sixteen people? The place is so big that you hardly run into the others. The only rule around here is regarding the pantry—to write down who’s taken what on the notepad stuck to one corner. Despite what movies show, people are far more helpful to each other in times of need, more so than usual even. You relax into the chair, the velvet cushion feeling comfortable against your back. 
There’s a nice communal feeling in this place. 
You frown. It’s not like you can stay here forever. 
At the very least, you can pretend each sundown and sunrise is ordinary here. You close your eyes, and slowly, thoughts of why you’re trying so hard to remember life before this drift away.
//
Yangyang wakes up before you do, grinning like crazy as he shrugs you awake. You stare at him through groggy eyes, untangling your limbs from yourself. The cold seeps into you and you shiver, hugging yourself.
“We found the keys to the lounge,” he rushes, albeit in a gentle voice. “Guess what?”
“Unh?”
“There’s a campfire spot over there! The others already started but I thought I should wake you up.”
It’s just like him to be excited about something like that. You get up nevertheless, Yangyang pulling you through the stairs and onto the only elevator that seems to work around here. There’s quite a few things about this hotel left to be figured out. You’re going to have to start worrying anyway when the power from the generator runs out.
Kunhang and an older man, Mr Kang, are the only ones there once you reach. You had expected it but the lounge is gigantic and a small part of it provides the artificial campfire area. There are paintings of wild animals and trees for children, you assume, on the walls only cut off by a large vent on the ceiling. The fire burns bright over the large circle of soil and firewood, whose authenticity is debatable. You sigh at the warmth, having grown tired of the autumn weather’s mood swings.
Kunhang greets the two of you with a grin before delicately poking Mr Kang to at least acknowledge your presence. It’s funny, the lot of you.
The place is a little small, considering there’s a literal fire in the middle of the room. You almost sit on Yangyang because he shifts too suddenly at Mr Kang’s disapproval of proximity, a small yelp leaving you whereas Yangyang, for the first time, looks like he’d rather die. He mutters an apology, and two of you manage to sit a good two feet apart, sudden awkwardness rising in the air—all of it unnoticed by Mr Kang. You heard he was a banker but if Kunhang and Yangyang had a polar opposite, it would most certainly be him. You can’t even remember the man’s voice.
You think you should say something but Kunhang’s laughter breaks the silence. There’s an unspoken exchange between him and Yangyang, piquing your curiosity though you aren’t sure what you should be asking. You just assume it’s one of their stupid inside jokes.
“I left your gift on your table. You can add it to your dumb shoe collection,” Kunhang tells Yangyang, smiling before standing up to stretch. “I’m going to bed. Mr Kang, won’t you accompany me?”
Mr Kang gets up begrudgingly and you’re about to ask them to stay longer when Kunhang turns to you enthusiastically. “Good night, (name). Don’t have too much fun. Although, I suppose there’s no better time to have too much fun either.”
You watch with furrowed brows as the two disappear into the doorway and down the stairs. You spend a couple of moments in silence before clearing your throat. When it goes unnoticed, you turn to Yangyang despite the warmth on your face. 
“It’s not dumb,” he mutters to himself, a little zoned out.
You stare at him for a few moments and the familiar feeling rises in your throat, now with a little voice to accompany it. 
Cute.
You cough, distracting yourself with any and all thoughts you would rather have, even of the zombies. Now isn’t the time—or is it the perfect time? You shake your head, calming yourself.
“Does it… hurt?” You ask, eyeing Yangyang’s arm.
He looks up as if broken from a daze, the campfire lights still dazzling in his eyes. You hold back a laugh. He really is a child; if he’s so easily mesmerized by fires, that is.
“Probably not any worse than the lady I whack-a-mole’d. Now that must’ve hurt.” Yangyang puffs his cheek before looking straight at you.
You stare back. It’s not the weirdest thing he’s said.
“What? I feel bad beating the crap out of zombies sometimes,” he says, scratching the back of his head. 
You hum in response. The thought of Yangyang developing a conscience is almost as bad as having to think about zombies. Though, you’ll have to admit, it does give you a strange relief. Zombies can’t really feel pain—they are, after all, numb in every possible sense—but some part of you wonders if it’s alright like this. Morals and survival aren’t meant to overlap. 
You feel the need to distract yourself with something.
“Hey,” you call, moving closer to Yangyang such that your shoulders almost touch. Before you know it, you brush the hair from his face, trying to style the mess into something more neat—a thing you’ve been wanting to do since the first time you saw him. Every time you’d see the messy mop of hair at an official event of the debate club, you’d have this strong urge and an almost putrid form of annoyance. You still don’t know how he managed to get in.
“You don’t look terrible with parted hair,” you muse. “You could’ve looked more decent at the debates.”
You look down from his hair to see Yangyang frozen, eyes wide as if a deer in the headlights.
“Are- Are you not breathing?” you ask.
Yangyang sucks in a large chunk of air, fast enough to choke on it and break into a coughing fit as he turns away from you. You reach out to pat his back but he waves his hand at you, indicating he’s fine before he can turn to you.
You look at him with no particular emotion, the night breeze having worked its way to you.
“What was that about a gift? Are you and Kunhang getting things for each other without telling me?” you say, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
There's a short pause, filled with the crackling of fire.
“It’s my birthday,” Yangyang says with a small smile as the campfire lights dance across his cheeks.
And yet, the words come out sad as if he’d been waiting for an occasion to tell you. You look at him, eyes widening ever so slightly accompanied by the loss of words and take a sharp breath.
“I’m not going to ask for a gift,” Yangyang teases. “Don’t look so worried.”
You open your mouth and close it again, unable to explain the gentle wash of sadness overcome you when you see just a boy. For all the talking he does, he never asks for much. 
“I mean, I- I liked spending the day with you. Why do you look so sad? Did I say something? Again?”
You look over his features, from his brow bone to his wide eyes to his lips and the conclusion arrives as gently as the end of the world. What’s the worst that could happen?
You quickly pull him into a hug, still careful of his injury, and a vaguely embarrassing sound escapes Yangyang, something akin to a sheep’s call. He clears his throat which turns into coughing before he can wrap his arms around you, his breathing soft against your shoulder. 
“I’m- I’m alive, you know? I don’t think I’m dying any time soon. I- I can’t even get infected! You know that.”
“That’s not why I’m- I…” You pull back, steeling your eyes so you don’t feel the warmth of embarrassment. 
Just like you prepare for debates, you think to yourself. Maybe Yangyang was right about you being a zombie—the way you follow the same drudging formula.
“I like you,” you say, your words more of a strained whisper but they’re out before you know it. You can fake confidence, you tell yourself. It’s horrible timing and spending your (potentially) last days with someone who rejected you is just another way to shoot yourself in the foot.
But part of you has been wanting to do this for so long that you almost don’t mind.
Yangyang sucks in a breath, pressing his knuckles to his mouth as he straightens.
“That was- Wow. Okay. I- Uh. Wow.”
You let the heat grow stronger in your cheeks, racking your head for an explanation or even a lie. Maybe you can say it was a mistake. 
“I- I meant…” You lose track of your words. You can’t lie.
“I’ve never been confessed to,” he blurts, and if you squint, you swear you can see him blushing.
“Huh?”
Yangyang coughs again, followed by the same embarrassing sound. “That was- That was the first time.”
The silence between you is accompanied by the crackling of fire and the soft path-making of wind. You’re at a loss for words, something that you should be used to by now—they clearly belong to someone else.
“Oh my god, that was so stupid,” he says, pulling a horrified face as he frantically waves his hands about. “I meant to say I like you too but I- I guess I forgot to say it out loud. Ah, crap- I sound even stupider now, don’t I?”
Your lips twitch, trying to contain your smile but you’re seized with uncontrollable laughter anyway. The mortified expression on Yangyang’s face makes you burst into another fit of giggles before you can somewhat compose yourself.
“I think that’s the longest you’ve been quiet for,” you say in between recurring laughter. “Did anyone ever tell you being able to talk fast doesn’t get you ahead in debate clubs?”
Yangyang frowns.
“Oh, I just joined because I thought it’d get on your nerves,” he says, not a hint of jest in his voice.
You straighten away from him, the smile dropping from your face.
“You can’t be serious.”
He grins sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and offering no explanation. You huff in exasperation, getting up abruptly to avoid another oncoming headache. It’s a little difficult, considering you have the human version of it right beside you.
“Wait- Where are you going?” Yangyang scrambles up to his feet. “It’s my birthday, you know?”
You turn around and put your hands on your hips, a small smile on your face at the sight of him. “It’s midnight already.”
“Oh. How was I supposed to know?”
You laugh, shaking your head. Maybe the little rascal is special.
“Hey,” Yangyang calls. “You know, since this is the end of the world and all…”
You stare at him, heartbeat erratic at the lack of distance and despite the fading of teenage fantasies. Yangyang shifts nervously, glancing here and there while simultaneously trying to keep eye contact with you, an action which makes you hold back a chuckle. There’s a particular twinkle in his eyes but he can’t seem to be able to look at you straight.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, finally.
And what a daring end to the world it is.
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shabre-legacy · 3 years
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another random piece from princess rising because the feedback is motivating me to get back into this story
                                     AMBRINA
Ambrina straightened out of her battle stance and brushed her bloody bangs out of her eyes as she surveyed the field in front of her. The grass was mostly ash near her and further out was covered in blood and corpses. Her familiar, a massive gorgeous lioness, stood in the middle of a circle of mangled bodies, blood dripping from her muzzle and onto her claws. Ambrina had managed to take out all 6 without too much effort and only had to burn one of them, and Lyca, that wonderful cat, had taken down 3 at once.This was a job well done and the payout would be excellent when they delivered the target home. She moved swiftly over to the large rock at the edge of the field and reached behind it, pulling out the young girl hiding there.  The poor girl was clearly terrified, shaking like a leaf, with huge eyes. Ambrina sheathed her sword and pulled a knife from her belt cutting the girls binds. “ relax kid, I’m just here to take you home. Your parents sent me” the girl nods, still scared, but willing to do whatever would get her home. Ambrina led her over to the horse nearby, a large cream paint gelding, they mounted up quickly and headed for the nearby city. Lyca tailing behind them, just far enough for the girl to not pay attention, she slipped ahead of the duo and entered the shadows of the city, heading home as Ambrina went to collect their money. 
    A few hours later, Ambrina steps into The Singing Oak  tavern and collapses onto a stool near the bar, grabbing a bottle from behind the counter. She had successfully rescued the kidnapped girl and returned her to her parents and collected the large reward. Now she could relax for a few hours or until she got another job. The life of a sword-for-hire wasn’t the easiest but she was damn good at it and honestly enjoyed it, some days it seemed that the same fire that flew from her fingertips drove her to need a fight most of the time. This was the life, go out into the open air, kick a little ass, get paid for it and come back to cozy apartment or a loud, boisterous tavern with the best drinks in Sea City.   She leaned back against the bar and looked around the room, taking in the atmosphere and and the familiar sight of the Singing Oak. Full of the best people in Sea City. Thieves, Pirates, Mercenaries (like herself), former slaves, mages, sailors, ect. Hard-working people on the low end of society, rejected by others and trying to get by or to disappear. Honestly, this place was as close to home as Ambrina had ever known. Get rich or get drunk trying was how many of the people here, including her lived their lives. A group of sailors over near the back wall started a loud drinking song, Turning towards her slightly, she had had some good conversations with the guys over the few days they had been in port. She leaned over the bar and pulled a case from the shelf underneath. She lifted the fiddle into place and started a jaunty tune to go with the sailors song. Within a few notes the bar was full of people singing and dancing to her tune. This was her second favorite form of magic, the intoxication of music and the power her fiddle held over everyone who heard her play, at least in this tavern. After a couple of tunes, she let herself fall back onto her stool and swung her fiddle case back to it’s shelf as she ordered another round.  She leaned back and laughed as the day got later and the tavern swung into usual crowd and antics. A few crews of Sailors were sharing tales of the sea and trying to beat each others drinking records. A few games of dice and cards had sprung up among sailors and thieves and the few street gangs that were hanging around were staring each other down as they did all the time, it wasn’t that unusual for them to start glaring on site, but they would never fight inside. Those were the rules that kept this place the best place in all of Sea City.  Ambrina never felt out of place here, this was her world; her violence and anger, the fire that burned inside her was accepted and embraced. And yet strangely, it sometimes felt like she was part of the scenery of the tavern, like she was accepted but not seen, not belonging, simply there. There seemed to only be one person who saw her, like actually as a person and not another angry sword in a room of them, her roommate Lyra. The red-haired elven thief was her best friend in this city that she loved.  She burst out laughing as the girl entered and flopped into her seat. Ambrina reached over and clapped her shoulder, leaning over and grabbing another drink before swinging onto the bar and leaning over towards Lyra, “good haul today, I see” 
The girl sighed and pushed at her leg, “stop it” 
Ambrina pushed her drink at her, grabbing another and throwing a few coins on the Tavern owners tray as she passed, earning her She drained her mug and nudged lyra again. “Out with it” 
“Totally botched job, I mean, I got out with a painting, but I mistimed the return of the caretaker and almost got caught and had to leave almost all those other nice things behind, all that money gone.” 
Ambrina patted her arm  and downed another drink that was the unfortunate reality of their lifestyle, sometimes a job just doesn’t work out, but it always sucked when that happened. “ don’t worry bout it. I just finished a job, I can spot the rent till you grab something that’s worth a damn thing”         
She jumped off the bar and headed over to the job board. Her and Lyra had been sharing a small apartment above the tavern for a few years now and rent was usually a concern with how much she was trying to save. This taverns rep was known through the city and a few requests could always be found alongside the wanted posters and city decrees. 
This time though there was an envelope with her name printed on the fine paper in an elegant script pinned among the other papers. A small  She reached up and grabbed it. She’d open this later in her apartment. For now she wanted to relax. She turned and with a quick half step she leapt onto the nearest table, “Next rounds on me” she yelled to the jovial crowd. And as the drinks were ordered and the usual chaos of the evening crowd built up, she felt as close to home as she ever did.
                                                                   Kiria
Kiera sighed and continued to trudge through the forest. They would probably reach the galpin plains soon. This wasn’t good. She knew that they had to travel through the plain to get to Xaeria, where they should be able to rest for a day or two before moving to the coast. They couldn’t stay in Xaeria. Not with the position of Queen Varalyne on the existence of mages.  She couldn’t drag her brother into that. That same little black colt had been following him for as long as she could remember; that, plus how Daemon could disappear better than any of the others she knew. There was no way she could drag him to Xaeria or Prouba. They could possibly try the wild woods beyond Taeslaes, but that area was Elven territory and the only humans that were even rumored to be able to survive in those forests was some temple and Bluecall. They were a traveling troupe that made people vanish after every performance. Between the wild magic and the beasts of the forest, they might be able to survive, but it was risky. Their best option was probably to head to Everfield, catch a ship, and disappear to sea for awhile. 
    Since she ran, they’d already had to fight off the first two teams sent to bring them back. Daemon had to fight the people he had trained with and lived with and fought with for years. She couldn’t imagine doing that, though she knew in her soul that she would be forced to do the same to those she had called sister for years. But there was no choice for her, but to go on. When what you believe becomes incompatible with the popular line of thought, it is necessary to separate from that thought and find a way to build a life away from that which you can’t support. And she could no longer support a group of assassins that broke their assassins through torture and the torture of the innocents. Death was one thing, a life of pain and fear and relentless agony that goes on endlessly with no stop in sight was an entirely different situation. She had a broken rib, two head wounds and a stab wound in her side; her brother had a twisted ankle, a new head wound, probably a concussion and a few other injuries, both horses had injured legs, but right now, they had their freedom, and that was everything. 
    Unfortunately, it was under threat yet again as Daemon signaled that there was someone following at the same moment that Kiria felt eyes on her. She steadied herself as much as she could as the trees melted into brush and they entered the Galpin Plains. As they headed further in, Kiria noticed the trees seemed to part and in the distance she could see their pursuers. Raven-marked horses, four in red, three in black. This was an extermination group, a hunting party,  they had called them. They probably wouldn’t run them down. She knew their tactics, she’d led a hunting party or two herself. They’d stay back, far enough to be able to disappear if needed, but close enough to keep the pressure on and keep them moving ‘til they dropped or slowed down. Then they’d swoop in and wipe out the entire group they were chasing. It was a terrifying tactic, and and effective one. They would die at some point soon. It would take some kind of miracle to save them and Cornoth would never provide that. But even with that knowledge, Kiria wasn’t one to go down without a fight, no matter what she’d still try to fight her way out if she could. As she limped through the grass and shrubs to Daemon’s side and they trudged their way, limping and injured, she felt him reach out and gently squeeze her hand. He was scared, she realized, he probably didn’t know why he had left and more than she truly understood why she had. Yet he had come with her as soon as she asked. And he would die for it and he knew that as well as she did. “I wish I knew more than how to blend into shadows and blur tracks” he murmured “i’m sorry, i can’t throw fire or some shit like that”.
    She squeezes his hand back “At least we’ll die free from their torture and we’ll take a few of them with us.”
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capricornus-rex · 4 years
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Two Sides of the Coin (5)
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Chapter 5: Not Exactly According to Plan | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis
Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.
A/N: And now, the moment y’all been waiting for~~~ :”D
Tagging y’all for this pivotal moment: @berenilion @stellar-trinity @peterwandaparker @calgasm @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms @queen-destenie @justtinfoley​ @sweeetteaa​ @calsponchoemporium​ @fallenjedii​ @cal-jestis​ @superwarsofthrones​ @ayamenimthiriel​
Also in AO3
Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC
Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 | Previous: Part 4 | Next: Part 6 | Masterlist
5 of ?
OMBARI, PONDARA SYSTEM, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES
In the lusher parts of Ombari, the Mantis has landed itself near the hilltop town. The most prominent landmark of that settlement was the temple spire that soared to the heavens and nearly pierced the clouds—it was a sanctum of another long-forgotten civilization before this one. Buildings wrapped around the foot of the spire, whether it be homes or business establishments, thieves and honest people alike loitered the streets; a populace of diverse species and humans have housed themselves in this crude location.
If one would take a good look at the surrounding forest, remnants of what ought to be an ancient city—in the same timeline when the temple was at its prime—have been devoured by the flora and the fauna had made it their dominion along with the wilderness. The main road branched into different directions, leading to several other establishments in a fair distance from the city, and even branched through the “safer” part of the woods.
The Mantis kept her distance from the town, docking just behind the city across a river; Cal insisted that they land near the river that divides the city and the woods so that they’re in the median, personally, it’ll just be easy for him to find his way back, whether he goes to the forest or to the city.
The young Jedi also argued that they still remained closer to civilization, knowing that the captain preferred that instead of wild animals that can fold the Mantis in ten seconds. Greez took it to great consideration—much to his hidden chagrin—and landed the ship amongst the high trees that walled the settlement from the unforgiving badlands beyond.
“I should’ve fit some more armaments on this old girl!” Greez stressed, flailing his arms to further express his chagrin.
“I’m sure it’s nothing, Greez,” Cere reassured, her tone is a perfect contrast to the captain’s. “Besides, predators don’t usually show themselves in the open.”
“Yeah, it makes them more vulnerable to the bigger ones,” Cal added.
Greez stammered, uncomforted by the Jedi’s logic, “There’s always a bigger one!”
“Well, I guess there’s no going around for me, not until I’ve convinced Greez enough that everything’s fine in this planet,” Cere sighed as she confided to Cal in the holotable room.
“Ya know I can hear you!” Greez cried from the cockpit.
Cal chuckled before adding, “You guys can take a look around if you like, we’d still end up meeting back here in the Mantis anyway.”
“Fair point, you be careful out there,”
Cal straightened the neckline of his black poncho, BD-1 hopped over and clutched on the belt strap on his back and exited the Mantis. The door unfurled to reveal to him the world in a much larger scale. He felt small, but in a good way; he surveyed the horizon, not knowing which direction to go to first.
The first step onto Ombari’s soil hit different. Cal basked in the warm sunlight and felt a cool, light drizzle kiss his freckled cheeks. Rain and sunshine have mingled together, which was typical in a tropical planet. Meanwhile, in the first few miles into the badlands from the border, Jidné docked the Scarab by the greater water hole that stretched to the more abundant half of Ombari’s mainland.
Her end of the homing beacon continued to glow blue, it beeped a slow, monotonous rhythm indicating that her distance from the target was still far. Panning her head across the desert, she doesn’t spot any silver dorsal fin sticking out like a sore thumb in this reddish-orange wasteland; so, she headed north, towards the denser part of the planet.
The badlands was composed of uphill mesas that overlook the valley of the other side. From Jidné’s vantage point, the city was in sight, as well as the surrounding forest. She fished out her binoculars and scanned the area, searching for the ship among the trees—they were high enough to conceal an Imperial outpost or tower, but that won’t stop her from finding her target.
“Now, where could you be hiding, my little redhead?” Jidné muttered as she peered through her lens left and right.
The sun caught a twinkle of a silver tip shyly peeking out of the treeline. The bounty hunter immediately focused her binoculars in that direction, her thumb turned the knob of the zoom, even with her binoculars she still squinted her eyes in the viewfinder, attempting to see through the thin gaps between the trees.
The homing beacon beeped again, only this time the rhythm of the glow sped up a few beats. She put away her binoculars and went downhill, literally crossing the between the badlands and the mainland. Her boots scraped against the rocky slope, the forest floor carpeted by fallen leaves cushioned her fall; when she erected herself after her landing, she patted the holster on her hip and the felt for her rifle—both weapons are still on her person.
She stalked through the dense greenery, the dimness of the trees’ shade unsettled her little droid on her back.
“Yeah, it’s a little spooky. We’re getting out of here, don’t worry,”
Through the thick foliage, Jidné and ID-3 weren’t alone; amongst the shrubs and treetops where they hide, their sights followed the girl whom they immediately labeled as an intruder of their home. Black claws gripped around the branches, the muscles on their hind legs strained and prepped for a lunge if need be; the ones on the ground slipped and stealthily passed through the plants, concealing themselves from the human’s plain eyes.
“I’m sure it’s nothing, ID, we just need to move fast if we don’t want anything catching up to us,” Jidné reassured, although she was getting uneasy herself. Her hand subtly crawled down to the flap of her holster, carefully unbuttoning the cover.
The animals were surely making their presence known, Jidné had already spotted one of them moving from its hiding place to the next; their low growling grumbled amongst the tree trunks. By instinct, she fished out her lightsaber hilt with a slight tug using the Force and is beginning to prepare herself in a stance.
She focused on the animal that she spotted moving cover to cover, little did she know that this one was a decoy. The true predator was waiting for her on its perch in the treetops. Jidné engaged at the animal when it revealed itself from the bushes: a large cat-like animal with dark, coarse fur, it carried itself with a silent grace with its slender yet muscular limbs, curved claws as deadly as a scimitar, and a long tail used to grapple on its perches.
It bared its teeth as it approached Jidné, asserting its frightful dominance in this jungle. Its back arched and its lips pulled back to show more teeth, agitated at the hiss of the saber’s blade, threatened by the foreign, purple glow that shone in its golden brown eyes.
“Down, kitty,” Jidné hummed.
The decoy still confronted Jidné, affording its companion to descend upon her in the speed of light, its claws fixed on the rifle, assuming that it was a bodily appendage than an actual weapon. Her startled shriek must have alerted every single creature—big or small—within the forest. In the distance, Cal jerked his head to the direction of the human scream, he squinted his eyes as the sound died down and was replaced by the harmonious chirping of birds.
“That doesn’t sound right,” Cal tells BD-1.
Jidné’s true assailant dragged her violently across the forest floor by the rifle on her back; she unbuckled the strap across her body to break free, she succeeded and crawled away—saber still in hand, but her grip was trembling, trying to pull herself together while her life is still flashing before her eyes. The animal thrashed its head wildly left and right while chewing at the weapon in an attempt to eat it; realizing that it was inedible, it flung it far behind its back and focused on the real prey.
Her fingers tensed around her hilt. For every flimsy swing she did to make them back away, they come back at her two steps closer with their yellow, blood-stained fangs in full display. She focused on the one that was closest to her—the decoy—and she grazed its shoulder with her lightsaber. It wailed in pain as the searing heat cooked its skin and fur, Jidné’s attack just made it angrier, all of the hairs on its body pricked up as it arched its back in retaliation.
“Come on!” Jidné screeched tauntingly.
She finally attacked the decoy. The decoy continued to lunge at her, thirsting for revenge after being nicked by her blade. Cal had heard the wail of the animal that Jidné had maimed, it rang loud and clear in his earshot, he knew he was in the right track. He sped through the forest: vaulting over fallen logs and boulders that stood in his path, shouldering his way through the large-leafed bushes and the trees until the humming of a saber was audible.
Cal discovered a girl wielding a purple saber, flailing it at the animals’ faces as she tried to keep herself from their claws’ or fangs’ reach. He watched her for a moment, slashing away at the one already riddled with seared cuts over its body. The wild cat creature lunged at her, in turn, Jidné smoothly evaded it and followed it by piercing the ribcage of the animal with her saber.
A third cat appeared in the place of the one she just killed, angrier and hungrier for meat. As if to exact vengeance on its fallen member, the pack leader charged at her, claws at the ready and reared—its heavy paw slapped away the saber from her hand, buried within the thick foliage of the forest floor.
“NO!!” she screeched, the animal had rendered her empty-handed and vulnerable.
Just when the animals thought that had her in their jaws, the newcomer tried to pounce on her until she seized the leaping animal in mid-air using the Force—Cal witnessed this, awe-stricken at the discovery of a fellow Jedi—her Force-push flung the animal away but quickly shook it off and readied itself back on its four paws.
Cal jumped into the action, instinctively stretching out his hand to inflict Force-slow on the alpha as he joined Jidné. She didn’t take her eyes off the animals, though she stole a glance at her unlikely helper.
Red hair.
Her stomach sank, but everything was happening so quickly that she couldn’t register them all at once in her panicking brain.
Cal was on the offensive and targeted the alpha, riddling its body with orange-and-black searing cuts the same way Jidné did on the one she killed; seeing that she was empty-handed, he quickly twisted the sleeve and separated his lightsabers.
“Here!” he tossed his second saber at Jidné. She caught it, and in a graceful twirl, she’d severed the newcomer cat’s forelegs in a clean, perfectly-timed sweep, killing it in the process.
The alpha backed away, leaned its head back and produced an ear-shattering roar—so loud, in fact, that Jidné had to duck and shield her one ear with her free hand. Little by little, leaner versions of the animal—which ought to be juveniles learning how to hunt—appear out from their hiding spots upon the call of their pack leader, it’s as if they’ve organized this whole ambush for the sake of finding food—which neither Jidné nor Cal do not exactly plan to be.
The juveniles appeared in all sides around them, they spun while literally back-to-back with one another as they surveyed the jungle clearing, counting the reinforcements with their eyes.
Four of the creatures rejoined their leader on the ground, backs arched, and throat rumbling with threatening growls. The death scent of their two fallen members roused up their senses, baring their teeth in anger at the two assailants.
“Something tells me they’re not here for belly rubs,” Cal jested.
That drew a giggle out of Jidné, “No, I don’t think so!”
Both Jidné and Cal brandished their lightsabers at the large, feral cat-like creatures. One immediately lunged at them, buckling its claws at Cal and pounced on him, trying to rip his throat open—Jidné kicked it away from him and left a diagonal gash across its chest, killing it instantly; the scarred alpha attempts to strike back at her, charging at her at a feral speed, she dodge-rolled it and only managed to scratch its thick, aging hide.
“On your left, ginger!”
Cal took on the two new juveniles on his left, he tossed his saber at one while the other jumped on him—he backed away, dodging the jump attack by a hair and skillfully caught the returning lightsaber, he didn’t spare a second in killing the second. That leaves them with the surviving juvenile and the sturdy alpha, who was still standing strong after being nicked repeatedly by both of these humans. It probably had its last straw and paced cautiously at the two.
The remaining juvenile pounced at Jidné—already exhausted at this whole debacle—and dug its sickle-shaped claws onto her shoulders. The borrowed saber was still in her hand, she angled her wrist so the emitter faces the animal, and with a single press of the button, the blade pierced through one side of the animal’s neck to the other. She rolled it away from her body and brought herself on her knees, catching her breath as she stayed close by her unlikely ally.
The alpha had enough of this, of course. Out of mercy, its lunging attack was seized by Cal who Force-pushed it with an intensity that it resorted to run away into hiding. When the whole ordeal was over, Cal turned to the girl.
“You alright?”
He reached out his hand in front of Jidné, she stared at the hand for one second and then turned to the face of the boy who helped her. She denied that her heart skipped a beat. Cal pulled her up to her feet the moment they joined hands.
“Yeah… just a little shaken,” she dusted off the dirt that stuck on her jacket and removed her cowl to do the same. She remembered that she still had his saber and briskly returned it to him. “Thanks for this, by the way.”
He takes his second saber and conjoins it with the other, “Don’t mention it.”
The awkward silence between was filled in by the insects chirping amongst the woods. BD-1 hopped off of Cal’s shoulder to scan the dead animals and skittered briskly back to him.
“So those cats were called Bashiji, huh? I’ll give it a read later,” he whispered to BD-1, and then cleared his throat, recomposing himself in front of the girl. “Name’s Cal. Kestis. By the way.”
He stretched out hand again at her. Her eyes shifted between Cal—beaming a small yet friendly smile at her—and his hand.
“Jidné. Jidné Sheedra.”
She takes his hand and shakes on it. From her touch, the ripple of the Force that has been lightly nudging at Cal ever since he came in to this planet seemed to have amplified. He gave himself the benefit of the doubt and smiled as he exchanged niceties with Jidné.
“Jidné, I’ll remember that,”
A flustered Jidné attempted to subtly pull her hand away from her own target. She awkwardly managed a smile and walked past his shoulder, walking to the foliage where the Bashiji had slapped her saber away. Using the Force, she extended her open hand and the hilt popped out of the pile of leaves where it fell into. She instantly clipped it to her belt the moment it returned to her.
“You’re a Jedi, too?”
Well, shit. Her voice in her mind hissed.
Her stomach sank again just right when it worked its way back up to where it should be. The bridge of her nose crumpled upon realizing that she has no escape from that question, luckily, she had her back turned to Cal when he asked.
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avengerscompound · 5 years
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The Kittens
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The Kittens: A Captain America Fanfic
Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Steve Rogers x F!Reader
Word Count:  1085
Warnings:  fluff, some abandoned kittens.
Synopsis: On a morning walk through Central Park, Steve finds some kittens and then a woman who’s very protective of them.
A/N:  This was a birthday gift for @mewsiex.  The ending is open so that she could fill in what happens next herself.  I will not write more, do not ask me to.
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The Kittens
Steve wandered through the park, ball cap pulled low so the brim touched on the aviators he’s wearing.  He hunched over trying to make himself look smaller, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket.  He knew that people were still going to recognize him, but hoped that maybe by making himself look closed off everyone would leave him alone.
Not that he minded his fans.  They meant well.  They were usually polite and complimentary.  It was just the concept of having them at all that made him feel other.  He was not just Steve Rogers anymore.  He was Captain America.  Captain America didn’t belong to himself, he belongs to everyone, and everyone wanted to have their part.  Sometimes he just wanted to be Steve.
Despite the way he might look he was actually enjoying the day.  It was warm and sunny.  His ‘close himself off technique’ meant people were looking but leaving him alone.  He was enjoying the sounds of the park.  The way it muted the noise of the traffic.  The birdlife chattering.  The people going about enjoying each other’s company.
When he left the tower this morning he had wanted space, now he sort of wished he had brought one of the others with him.  Maybe he could have grabbed a coffee with Clint, or fed some ducks with Nat.  Or maybe Bucky might have liked checking out the Zoo with him.  They could reminisce about when they were kids.
He was just considering stopping and getting a hot pretzel and a cold soda from the next vendor he saw when he heard the sounds of distressed mewing.  He cocked his head to the side and trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from.  He followed the sound to a shrub and dug out what appeared to be a seriously soiled pillowcase.  He slowly worked open the knot and pulled out two small, slightly emaciated kittens.  Their meowing increased in both volume and desperation.
That was when you appeared.  The sound of the kittens in distress calling you like a beacon.  When you saw the extremely large man holding the kittens and what looks like a sack and you saw red.  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”  You yelled completely lost in the fury you felt in the moment.
Steve looked up at you startled.  Also quite impressed.  It wasn’t often he saw someone so furious over an injustice that they’re willing to fight him.  He looked you over trying not to laugh as he remembered his youth spent trying to take on all the world’s bullies, even if he didn’t stand a chance against even one of them.  You reminded him of himself.  So much so that he half expected a young Bucky to step out of the shadows behind you to kick his ass in your place.
“I just found them like this, I swear.”  He said quickly, trying to calm you.  “I heard them meowing and found them in a bush in this bag.”
He watches as you visibly relax.  “People are assholes.  Worse than assholes.”  You grumbled crouching down to look the kittens over.  They were very young.  Too young to be away from their mother, but not too young that they’ll be doomed.  As long as you get them help.  There are a boy and a girl.  The boy is mostly white with gingers ears and a little ginger tail that even now sticks up in the air like a pyramid.  The girl is pitch black with bright green eyes.  “They need to see a vet.”
“Do you know where one is?”  He asked looking up at you and actually feeling completely helpless for the first time in a long time.
You pulled out your phone and did a quick google search.  “There’s one on Columbus Circle.  Come on.”  You said picking up the little black kitten and immediately marching off in the direction of Columbus Circle.  Steve blinked up at you, smiling at your tenacity.  He loved how you were just sure he’d come after you.  That he wasn’t about to leave the kitten here where he found it.  He got up off the ground, kitten held awkwardly in his large hand and he jogged up after you.
“You need to support his butt.”  You said as you walked along.
He adjusted how he was holding the baby so he now had both hands around it so it was almost just sitting in a large cup.  “You know a lot about cats?”
You nodded.  “I just really liked them.  I have two.”
The two of you talked as you walked, taking long, fast strides.  Talking about your cats and how you liked animals in general.  Then talking about yourself and what you did and where you were from.  The subject changed to him and it was just as you got to the vet you realized that you had been talking to Captain America the whole time.  He noticed the point where you realized but you didn’t make a big deal just kept talking like he was anyone else.  In that moment he wanted to hug you and thank you for just treating him like a human being and not something to collect.
The vet looked the kittens over.  They were treated for dehydration and given wormers and flea treatments along with some vaccinations.  He then handed them over in a carrier box and Steve happily paid for heating pads, kitten milk replacer, kitten food, more worming tablets and a schedule for when they needed to come in again.  You went outside and Steve looked at you smiling.
“Do you need help taking this stuff home?”  He asked.
You blinked up at him.  “Oh… Oh, I can’t take them.  I’m only allowed to have two cats in my apartment.”  You explained.
Steve faltered for a moment.  “I don’t know anything about looking after kittens.”
“I can help you if you want.  Give you my number?  Come check on them until you get the hang of it?”  You offered.  “Or… or I know a shelter that might take them.”
Steve shook his head.  “No.  No, I’ll take them.  I’d be really grateful for your help though.  I think my friend would really like having some kittens around.”
Steve offered you his phone and you programmed your number in it and then the two of you set off to the tower, Steve feeling much lighter and more hopeful than when he set off this morning.
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ceealaina · 4 years
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Put a Spell on You
Title: Put a Spell on You Author: ceealaina Rating: T Square Filled: Free [Iron Husbands Bingo] Pairing: IronHusbands Summary: When Tony adopts a stray cat right before Halloween, Rhodey just figures it’s his roommate being his roommate. But after the cat scratches him, he starts feeling a little weird...
It started on a Wednesday, which was typical, because Wednesdays were Rhodey’s least favourite day. Everything bad happened on a Wednesday. On that particular morning, he woke up to cold Chinese on the counter, day-old coffee in the coffeemaker and no sign of his roommate. 
He’d last seen Tony around eight o’clock the night before, when he’d popped into the campus lab on his way home to ask if he should order enough Chinese for him too. Tony had given him a distracted affirmative, telling him that Chinese sounded awesome, and that he had about half an hour of work left and then he’d be heading home too. Rhodey had known he should have waited, made sure Tony actually wrapped things up, but it had been cold and rainy, and he’d had a pair of sweatpants and a baseball game calling to him at home. 
But if Tony’s bed was empty now, then he’d absolutely pulled another all-nighter at the lab. Had probably got caught up in an idea and hadn’t even realized how much time had passed. 
Again. 
And sure, it wasn’t technically Rhodey’s responsibility -- Tony was even a legal adult now, old enough to vote, and drink if they hadn’t just increased the age limit (as he wouldn’t stop complaining about), and take care of himself. But Rhodey’d been looking out for the twerp since he had shown up at MIT with braces and two-inch thick glasses and that ridiculously terrible haircut, and he wasn’t about to stop now. So he headed back to his bedroom, giving his still-warm bed a last, longing look as he got dressed for the trudge back to campus. He should have just enough time to collect Tony and get him home before he had to make his own way to class. 
Tony, just as he’d suspected, was about twelve coffees in, wild-eyed and a little manic over his new idea. Rhodey had faked interest (it was too early in the morning to follow what Tony was even saying) and it hadn’t been as difficult as he’d expected to herd Tony out the door. The sky had cleared overnight, but the wind was cold, and Rhodey shoved his hands in his pockets as they shuffled towards home, kicking at dead leaves and yawning while Tony continued raving, gesticulating wildly to express points that went entirely over Rhodey’s head. 
They were cutting through the park when Tony stopped talking mid-sentence. Rhodey turned to look at him only to find Tony staring at the bushes with wide eyes. 
“What?” he managed to ask before Tony shushed him and then dropped to all fours, peering into the bushes in question. Rhodey considered kicking him in the ass (it’s what a good best friend would do) and then got distracted by said ass. Tony was filling out more, no longer the short, skinny teenager that Rhodey had first met. Well, he was still short — Rhodey would lord those two-and-three-eighths-inches over him until the day he died — but not as short. And apparently he’d started doing squats at some point, because that ass was nice . Rhodey should tell him sometime, that he was looking good. 
Which was when he realized that it was butt o’clock in the morning and he was standing in a cold park ogling his best friend’s ass. He needed more sleep. 
“Tony,” he grumbled. It was definitely not a whine. “Come on, man. I’m freezing my ass off out here. What are you even doing?”
“Shhh,” Tony insisted, voice low and just above a whisper. “I thought I saw—,” He cut himself off with a noise that could almost be considered a squeal. “There, look. Hi baby,” he added, voice shifting into a soft coo. “Hello, aren’t you just beautiful?” 
Rhodey stared at him wide-eyed, wondering if he had finally lost it, before following Tony’s gaze. He didn’t see it at first, the lighting in the shade of the trees too dim, but then he noticed the pair of big, yellow eyes blinking out at them. Tony continued cooing, rubbing his fingers together in a way that was apparently supposed to be tempting, and Rhodey rolled his eyes. 
“Tones, come on. It’s just a cat. Leave it.” 
“I think it’s a baby,” Tony hummed, ignoring him entirely. “Come on, sweetheart. Look at you, aren’t you so pretty?” 
He continued talking to it until slowly the small black form crawled out from the shrubs. It craned its neck out to sniff at Tony’s fingers and then darted back, not quite as far as before. 
“Oh no, it’s okay,” Tony soothed. “I’m not going to hurt you. Come on out, it’s okay.” 
Rhodey kicked at Tony’s ankle. “Come on, let’s go home. It’s a black cat. It’s bad luck, and you’ve got enough of that already.” 
Tony shot him a look over his shoulder. “I happen to like black cats, okay?” 
“That’s your white guilt talking,” Rhodey informed him, getting a soft huff of laughter in return. “Tony. I’m going to be late for class.”
“So go,” Tony told him. “I just want to see if it has a collar or something. I promise, I remember where our apartment is.” 
Rhodey considered staying, but they were close to home, and he’d never been a cat person; he really didn’t want to be late to class because of some stray. It wasn’t like it was hurt or anything, it was fine , it was just Tony being Tony. And while most of Tony’s manic energy looked to have worn off, he still seemed alert enough that he probably wouldn’t just conk out and fall asleep right there in the park. 
Again . 
“Fine,” Rhodey huffed out. “Don’t spend all day here, yeah? Go and get some sleep.”
Tony waved him off still murmuring sweet nothings to the cat, and Rhodey set off for home, jogging now because he really was going to be late. 
***
He’d mostly forgotten about it by the time he was heading back to the apartment that evening. It was midterm season, and he was exhausted. His attention span for anything that wasn’t studying was pretty much zero. He’d swung by the lab on his way out, to make sure Tony was fed and watered, but to his surprise, he wasn’t there. Still, he’d pulled a lot of all nighters in the past couple weeks; he’d probably gone home, crashed, and hadn’t pulled himself out of bed yet. Consistent sleep hours wasn’t a concept that Tony Stark was familiar with. 
When he walked into their apartment, though, the lights were on and the whole place smelled like his favourite kind of pizza. “Aw yes,” he moaned to himself, dropping his bag and jacket right to the floor and beelining for the kitchen. He groaned loudly as he shoved half a slice in his mouth at once, favour bursting on his tongue. “This is so good,” he mumbled. “Tony?” he called, grabbing a couple more slices to take with him.
“In here!” 
He followed the sound of his voice into the living room. “Have I told you lately that you’re my favourite?” 
Tony was sitting on the floor, fiddling with a cardboard box. “Uhh, not lately,” he admitted. “But that’s good to know.”   
There was something off about the way he said it, eyes not quite meeting Rhodey’s and Rhodey stilled, slowly lowering the pizza to the table. “Tony…?”
Tony beamed at him a minute and then, clearly realizing that Rhodey wasn’t buying it, he reached into the box to hold up something small and black. “Surprise!” 
Rhodey stared for a minute, not fully comprehending what he was looking at until the black lump mewed at him. “Oh no,” he said, sitting down heavily on the couch. “Oh no. I knew I shouldn’t have left you there.” 
“His name is Michael,” Tony informed him, like Rhodey hadn’t said anything. 
“ Michael ?” 
“Yeah! Like Myers? Cause he’s a black cat, and it’s almost Halloween?”
“Oh my god,” Rhodey muttered, shaking his head. “Tony we can’t keep a cat.” 
“Rhodey, come on,” Tony pleaded. “He’s just a baby, look at how tiny he is. He won’t last outside once it gets much colder. And look how friendly he is!” 
Rhodey had to admit, the cat did seem to like Tony. He was stomping all over his lap, tiny frame stretching, digging his nails into Tony’s thighs and kneading in the process. Rhodey could hear the faint rumblings of what promised to be an impressive purr too. And Tony looked so thrilled, his attention back on the cat as he scratched behind his ear and the cat almost melted and then proceeded to somersault off his lap in delight. Rhodey fought back a fond smile before Tony could see it and know he’d won. 
“Michael, huh?” he asked instead, trying not to cave when Tony turned the puppy dog eyes on him. 
He moved closer, squatting down to look at him more closely. Michael blinked curious eyes at Rhodey, and, following Tony’s movements from earlier, he held out his fingers. Michael stepped across Tony’s lap to get closer, and then —
“Motherfucker!” Rhodey tipped back on his ass, startling the cat into hiding under the couch, but he wasn’t much paying attention to that. He shook out his hand and frowned at the large scratch that had appeared under his knuckles. Blood was welling from it, and it stung like a bitch, and he sucked at the skin, trying to soothe the pain. 
Grumbling, he got to his feet, heading for the bathroom to clean it off. “That cat’s a menace, Tones,” he informed him. 
The cat stayed. 
***
Really, Rhodey should have known it was a lost cause. He could never resist those puppy dog eyes of Tony’s, and he’d had them out in full force when he’d been pleading Michael’s case. So he probably shouldn’t have been so surprised when he got up the next morning to find Tony sprawled across the length of the couch, still fully dressed and snoring loudly, Michael a small black lump on his stomach. 
At least he’d slept. 
Rhodey eyed him a minute. Tony’s face was softened in sleep, the faint crinkles around his eyes disappearing, along with slightly manic expression he often wore. He looked downright peaceful, calm and content, lips curling up into a faint smile, soft and plush and tempting. It was a good look for him. His shirt had ridden up a little, exposing sharp hipbones and his soft, pale stomach, and Rhodey was struck by the urge to press a kiss against his skin. Which -- what the fuck . 
As if sensing Rhodey’s less-than-savoury thoughts, Michael opened one yellow eye and a low growl started deep in his chest. Rhodey held his hands up, taking a couple steps back. “Okay, okay,” he said. “I don’t know either.” 
He headed for the kitchen and got a pot of coffee started, downing a full cup himself before he headed back into the living room. Michael’s eyes were firmly closed again, and Rhodey flicked Tony’s ear, hard. His eyes slid open, and he blinked up at Rhodey. 
(Tony had the uncanny ability to go from dead asleep to wide awake without moving a single muscle in his body. Rhodey didn’t like to think about how and why he might have developed that particular skill.)
“Your cat is growling at me.” 
“He is not,” Tony protested automatically, relaxing now that he knew where he was. He stretched out on the couch further, one hand scratching at Michael’s neck, and the cat nuzzled into it. “He’s purring.” 
“He hates me,” Rhodey informed him, watching as Tony struggled to sit up without dislodging the cat. He looked ridiculous, flailing at the back of the couch, and Rhodey didn’t bother to hide the way he was laughing at him. Tony gave him a dirty look, and Rhodey made a face at him in return before taking pity and passing him a mug of coffee. Tony moaned appreciatively, shoving his face in the steam before taking a huge gulp. 
“Mmm,” he mumbled into the cup, blinking sweetly at Rhodey over the rim. “God, I love you, baby.” 
Feeling suddenly hot all over, Rhodey headed over to the thermostat to see if Tony had messed with the settings again, boosting it up to his preferred temperature of ninety million degrees. “Don’t change the subject,” Rhodey told him, frowning when he found it set normally. “You gave him a warm spot for the night, but he can’t stay. If you don’t want to put him back outside, then we can take him to the shelter.” 
“The shelter??” Tony gasped audibly, and Rhodey rolled his eyes when he looked over to find Tony covering Michael’s ears. “We can’t take him to a shelter. Black cats are the least adoptable of all cats. They’ll end up putting him down!” 
Rhodey wrinkled his nose at him, rubbing at the cut Michael had left on his hand. It itched like crazy. “How do you even know that?” 
“And if they do adopt him,” Tony continued, as if he hadn’t even spoken, “Who knows what’ll happen to him. It’s almost Halloween, honeybear. Do you know what kind of weird things people do to black cats on Halloween?” 
“Pretty sure that’s an urban legend,” Rhodey grumbled. Then he made the mistake of looking at Tony, who was staring at him with hopeful eyes. 
“ Please Rhodey?” he asked softly, in a voice that made Rhodey melt and shiver at the same time. He sighed; he’d already lost and he knew it. 
***
When he made it home that night, Tony was gone, back at the lab to work on his final project, but a litter box and food and water dishes had magically appeared in the apartment, along with about fifty thousand cat toys and six different beds. Rhodey felt like shit, exhausted and shivery, and just shook his head. He had about three hours worth of studying to do for his final midterm the next day, and couldn’t care enough to even look for where the damn cat was holed up. There was food and water in his dish. He’d come out if he was hungry. 
Of course, when he dragged himself to bed hours later, it was to find Michael sound asleep in the centre of his bed. Rhodey hesitated a moment, considering. He thought about trying to climb into the bed anyway, but no sooner had the thought crossed his mind than Michael started growling again, his eyes not even open. 
“Fuck it,” Rhodey declared. The last thing he wanted was to wake up with his eyes clawed out; he needed them for his test tomorrow. So he shuffled into Tony’s room instead, crawling under his blankets. He was asleep almost before he hit the pillow, but retained just enough consciousness to notice how the sheets smelled like Tony. Taking a deep breath and snuggling in deeper, he drifted off.  
It was still dark when something pulled him back into consciousness. He blinked blearily a few times, eyes burning and taking too long to adjust to the dim light. It took him a long moment to realize it was Tony who had woken him up, standing over him with an arched brow and a crooked grin. “Whatcha doin, Buttercup?” 
Rhodey grunted and rolled over, hugging Tony’s pillow tighter. “Mmph. Cat,” he managed to say. There was a moment of silence as Tony deciphered that, long enough for Rhodey to almost fall asleep again, and then Tony was pushing gently at his shoulder. 
“C’mon, Rhodeybear. Budge up, huh?” 
Rhodey was too tired to even think twice when Tony crawled into bed beside him. And when he snuggled up close to Rhodey’s side, he just pressed right back into him. 
***
Rhodey was pretty sure he was half dead by the time he made it home the next day. There was a storm rolling in, the air cold and windy, and he’d just missed the rain that was now lashing at their windows. He dropped his bag inside the door and then blinked when he found Tony sitting on the couch. He was scribbling equations on a notepad, tongue sticking out as he frowned in concentration, and Rhodey had the brief thought that he was adorable, followed by the thought that he’d really like to feel that tongue on his body. 
Which was when Tony looked up, beaming at the sight of him. “Hey honeybear! How was the midterm?” 
Rhodey blinked, shaking his head like he could Etch-a-Sketch the weird thoughts out of his brain, and flopped onto the couch beside Tony. He misjudged where he sat, ending up a little too close, but was too tired to be bothered shifting over. He leaned into Tony’s side instead, letting him keep him upright. “You remembered?” he asked, scratching at his hand again. Tony could barely remember to eat most days, Rhodey certainly didn’t expect him to remember his schedule. 
But Tony just huffed out a laugh. “Of course I remembered. Did it go okay?”
Rhodey shrugged. “Don’t even know,” he admitted. “Just glad it’s done.” 
Tony laughed again. “I ordered celebratory Chinese.” He bumped his shoulder against Rhodey’s, turning his head to grin at him. “Figured I owed you payback from Tuesday.”  
“You’re the best,” Rhodey told him, making no move to stand up. He found himself lulled by the steady in and out of Tony’s breathing, where his side was pressed into Rhodey’s. A minute later, Tony’s left hand came up, scratching at the short hair on the back of his scalp before rubbing at his neck. Rhodey shuddered at the feeling. 
“You want a nap first?” Tony asked, voice amused but pitched soft and low as he rubbed the tension away. 
“Yeah,” Rhodey sighed, still making no move to stand up. He kind of wanted to stay here forever. 
He really had intended to go to his own bed to sleep, but the next thing he knew he was waking up, stretched out on the couch. It took him a second to get his bearings, to realize that there was a fleece blanket draped over him, that his head was half pillowed on Tony’s thigh, and that long fingers were still scratching absently over his scalp, sending pleasant shivers up his spine. He shifted, looking up at Tony, who grinned down at him when he realized Rhodey was awake. 
“Oh hey,” he teased, eyes sparkling. “It lives!”
And there was something wrong with Rhodey, because all he could do was stare at Tony’s lips, and think about how much he wanted him to lean down and kiss him. Tony met his eyes, when he didn’t answer, chewing at his lower lip, and for a minute Rhodey thought he really was going to lean down and do exactly that. 
Which was when Michael came flying out of nowhere, bouncing off the back of the couch and onto Rhodey’s stomach, startling a yelp out of him. The cat’s nails dug into his stomach in response, and Rhodey jerked in pain, nearly smacking his head against Tony’s chin in the process. By the time Michael had untangled himself, and Rhodey had stopped flailing long enough to manage to sit upright, Tony was bent in half laughing at the noise that Rhodey had made. Rhodey shoved him, and Tony shoved him back. There was no awkwardness, no hint of the moment that had passed between him, and Rhodey told himself that it hadn’t happened at all, had just been his imagination playing tricks on him, a symptom of his nap hangover. 
“That cat’s evil,” he told Tony, though he made no further mention of getting rid of him. 
Tony beamed at him. “I think he likes you,” he teased, still giggling. He pressed a sloppy kiss to Rhodey’s cheek, making him swat at Tony’s face, and then he shoved Rhodey off the couch. “Go get your Chinese, I left it in the oven so it would be warm for you.” He reached over to the side table, holding up a video cassette with a gleeful expression. “I got beer and every slasher film I could find. You and me? Were gonna spend the entire weekend holed up in here, getting drunk and making fun of dumb teenagers. Real life can wait until Monday.” Tony beamed at him, and something in Rhodey’s stomach fluttered at the sight.
“You are a dumb teenager,” he told Tony, because it was expected of him. He couldn’t help grinning back at him though, because that sounded like everything he wanted right now. 
He brought extra food when he came back, knowing that Tony would steal half of Rhodey’s off his plate. Tony already had a movie queued up and Rhodey flopped onto the far end of the couch, depositing his feet into Tony’s lap. Tony made a show of poking at the hole in his big toe, grumbling about how his feet smelled, but his hand settled comfortably over Rhodey’s ankles as he leaned back to watch the movie, occasionally reaching over to steal spare ribs and baby corn from Rhodey. Eventually Michael came to join them, shoving himself between Rhodey’s feet and Tony’s stomach and curling into a little ball. Rhodey eyed him suspiciously, concerned for his toes, but Michael seemed to go right to sleep. He was purring, and the rumbling sensation against his foot was oddly soothing. 
But by the time Tony had shoved his feet away to get up and pop in the next movie, Rhodey was sniffling, eyes feeling blurry again. He leaned back against the couch, letting his eyes fall closed as he listened to Tony pad into the kitchen, feeding Michael and opening the fridge. He jolted when something icy cold pressed against his side, and looked up to see Tony smirking at him, beer in hand. 
“Thanks,” he mumbled, taking it and knocking back a large swallow. Tony’s brow furrowed as he settled back on the couch beside him. 
“You okay?” he asked. 
Rhodey shrugged. “Think I’m coming down with something,” he grumped. “Figures, just when I finished midterms.”
Tony scrunched his nose at him sympathetically. “Could be worse?” he offered. “At least you didn’t get sick during midterms.” He grabbed Rhodey’s legs, hauling them back into his lap, and Rhodey arched an eyebrow at him. “What?” he asked defensively, although he was laughing. “You’re warm!” 
Rhodey didn’t bother pointing out the blanket draped across the back of the couch. 
He spent the next movie alternating between dozing and bitching about how much he hated being sick. It didn’t feel like a normal cold, no sore throat, no irritating itch, just a sniffly nose and burning eyes, but it was still enough to make him cranky. He knew he was probably being really irritating, but Tony didn’t complain, just laughed at him and made sympathetic noises in turn, occasionally rubbing his thumb over Rhodey’s ankle bone when his complaints got particularly pathetic. 
Sick or not, fair was fair, so when the second movie was over, Rhodey hauled his sorry ass off the couch to grab the next round of beer. He picked up a bag of chips while he was out there, and was headed back into the living room when Michael came out of nowhere, winding his way through Rhodey’s feet. Trying not to step on him, Rhodey lost his balance. He managed to catch himself before he face planted, but dropped one of the bottles of beer. It didn’t break, at least, but the beer spilled all over the floor, and Rhodey stared at it forlornly. 
“Come on,” he whined. Tony was snickering -- although he moved to grab a towel and throw it on the mess -- and Rhodey glared at him. “Stop laughing,” he protested, “This is your fault. Your cat cursed me.” 
This just made Tony laugh harder. “What??” he asked, tossing the wet towel in the sink. He sprayed cleaner on the floor and let it sit, dropping back onto the couch in favour of wiping it down. “What do you mean the cat cursed you?” 
“Hey, I’m serious,” Rhodey told him, pointing at him before rubbing at his watery eyes with the back of his hand. “He’s evil, and he cursed me! I’ve got cat scratch fever. He showed up here, and all of a sudden I’m sniffling and my eyes are burning. This fucking cut won’t heal--,”
“It’s been two days, honeybear.” 
Rhodey glared at him, scratching at his hand and moving to wipe up the cleaning solution before the floor got all sticky. “Cursed,” he repeated, scrubbing at the floor. Tony was laughing behind him. “I’m tired, I’m stupid, I’m uncoordinated. My head hurts, my hand’s itchy, and I keep having these crazy thoughts about how I should kiss my roommate.” 
He didn’t even realize what he’d said at first, but Tony’s laughter stopped, going suddenly quiet. Rhodey played back what he’d said, and felt his heart stop. That was definitely not something he had planned on sharing. There wasn’t a sound from Tony though, and not knowing what he was thinking right now was killing Rhodey. Drawing in a deep breath, he forced himself to stand up and look at Tony.
Tony was staring back at him, lips parted and eyes wide. He ducked his head and licked his lips before peering back up at Rhodey. 
“That… That’s not crazy,” he said, voice quiet, soft. Hopeful. 
Rhodey stared at him for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. And of course, because it was Tony, he immediately panicked. 
“I mean, unless you meant a different roommate,” he added quickly with a tense laugh. “In which case forget I said anything. The cat, or the person you’re hiding in the closet. Do we have a secret third roommate? Are you renting out my room when I pull all nighters at the lab?” 
He was rambling, couldn’t get stopped, and Rhodey had no idea how he hadn’t realized until right now how much he loved this man. Figuring ‘fuck it’ he stepped forward, pulled Tony to his feet, cupped his face in his hands, and kissed him. Tony had been mid sentence, and he cut himself off with a startled noise, eyes still open. His lips were warm and dry against Rhodey’s, but he wasn’t kissing him back. Rhodey was just beginning to wonder if he’d misread everything when Tony abruptly got with the program. With a startled noise he was surging forward, pressing against Rhodey and kissing him in return. Rhodey couldn’t help grinning against his lips, laughing a little, but then Tony was sliding his tongue along his lips, hand shifting to curl around his neck, and shit, he was good at this. Rhodey moaned into his mouth, hands sliding down to grip at Tony’s waist, and then, because he could now, lower still. He squeezed his ass, using his grip to yank Tony right up against him. Tony made another surprised noise at that, breaking the kiss with a delighted giggle. 
“Um.” He looked at Rhodey with a pleased smile and flushed cheeks. “Hi.” 
Rhodey beamed at him. “Hi,” he said back. He couldn’t resist giving Tony’s ass another squeeze, grinning wide at the little squeak he made in response. Tony wrinkled his nose at him but he was grinning too, his hands still curled around Rhodey’s neck. 
“That was… That was good,” Tony said, licking his lips as he looked at Rhodey. “Right?” 
“Good?” Rhodey repeated incredulously. He darted forward, giving Tony another quick kiss. “Fuck Tones, you’re a good kisser. Guess all those those dates you’ve been going on have paid off, huh?” 
Tony rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he mumbled. 
Rhodey arched an eyebrow at him. “Make me.” 
So Tony did. 
They ended up sprawled across the couch, Rhodey on his back, Tony half draped on top of him, legs tangled together as they made out lazily. It was a tight fit, and Rhodey had one foot on the floor, but it was more than worth it. Tony’s hands were under his t-shirt, running over his chest, and Rhodey was teasing over Tony’s back, just above the waist of his jeans. It was good, slow and easy, instantly in sync with each other the way they’d always been. They were rocking against each other occasionally, but there was no real urge to take things any further yet. 
Rhodey pulled away to catch his breath, and Tony immediately shifted to kiss his neck instead. Rhodey grinned up at the ceiling, shivering when Tony’s teeth scraped over just the right spot. He shifted his hand to comb through Tony’s soft curls and felt him smile against his skin. 
“I’ve been thinking about it too,” Tony admitted, voice muffled. He lifted his head, grinning at Rhodey with heavy eyes. “Kissing my roommate, I mean.” 
“Yeah?” Rhodey rubbed the back of his neck. “You mean me, or the one hiding in the closet?” 
Tony rolled his eyes at him. “Been thinking about other things too,” he added. 
Rhodey rocked his hips pointedly up against him. “God, I hope so.”
“Shut up,” Tony protested, although he was laughing. “I’m trying to be serious here. I know I’ve got a reputation…”
“Oh, for being the king of one-night stands? That reputation?” 
Tony pouted at him, and Rhodey couldn’t resist kissing it away. “Sorry,” he whispered against his lips. “Sorry, go on.” 
“I just… I wanted you to know that this wasn’t that. I mean, obviously it’s that too, but I’ve been thinking about this a lot. Not just sex, just… This.” He was getting flustered, nose turning pink in a blush, and Rhodey had to kiss it away. 
“Are you trying to ask me out?” 
“Something like that,” Tony admitted, eyes wide and hopeful. Rhodey thought about how many times Tony had broken up with someone after a weekend, every time he’d told him that he just wasn’t meant for relationships, and warmth pooled low in his stomach. He curled his hand around the back of Tony’s neck, pulling him down for another long, needy kiss. 
Which was when there was a sudden high pitched meow. Michael jumped down onto Tony’s back, giving Rhodey a dirty look, and Rhodey promptly sneezed three times in a row, just managing to turn his head before he sneezed directly in Tony’s face. The sound startled Michael, who scampered off again, and Rhodey leaned his head back against the arm rest with a groan as his eyes watered again. 
“See?” he huffed. “Ugh, I hate being sick. Oh shit!” HIs eyes went wide as he realized they’d been making out for the better part of the past half hour, and he brushed his fingers through Tony’s hair again. “Baby, I’m gonna get you sick too.”
To his surprise, Tony burst out laughing, turning his head to kiss Rhodey’s palm. “Oh god honey, I love you,” he told him, not even flinching from the words. “You’re not sick, you doofus. You’ve got allergies.” 
Rhodey stared at him blankly. “... What?” 
Tony grinned at him. “You got allergies. To the cat,” he added. “Think about it. The watery eyes, the sniffles, the sneezing. It’s an allergy.” His face fell a little. “Guess we can’t keep Michael after all.”
Rhodey shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. We had a cat, when I was a kid. He didn’t like me, but I wasn’t allergic.”
Tony considered this. “Some dander allergies disappear after exposure,” he offered. “Allergic at first, but after a couple weeks, your body’ll adjust.” 
Rhodey squinted at him. “How do you know that?” 
He got a shrug in return. “I don’t know. Read it in a book once. Does this mean we can keep Michael?” 
“Yeah,” Rhodey admitted, mostly because he’d do anything to make Tony smile. He sniffled again. “I hope you’re prepared for how gross I’ll be for the next few weeks though.” 
Tony grinned, hopping off the couch, laughing at that distraught sound that Rhodey made at the loss of his body weight. “Hold that thought, handsome.” 
Rhodey rolled his head on the armrest, watching as he jammed his feet into his sneakers and grabbed the first jacket he could find, which happened to be Rhodey’s. “Wait, where are you going?”
Tony waggled his eyebrows at him. “Twenty-four hour pharmacy three blocks away. Gonna grab some allergy pills so we can make out in the meantime.” He winked and was out the door without another word. Rhodey stretched out on the couch, grinning up at the ceiling a little giddily. God, he really loved that man. 
Michael appeared from nowhere, curled up on Rhodey’s stomach, and went to sleep. 
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phantoms-lair · 5 years
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Feel the rain on your skin
Subject: A Cute Demon AU Fic written around this picture by @ectoimp
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Spring Rain
For all that the cave changed them irrevocably, the cave itself never did. It didn’t get warmer or cooler during their stay. There were no sounds of animals and the only light came from Lewis. Certainly no wind or precipitation.
It made both of them appreciate being outside all the more. There was magic now in the scents carried in the wind. Of the songs of birds and chirps of crickets. The only thing that could relax Arthur to a nap faster than the sun warming him and a light breeze dancing over his skin was if Lewis was holding him while it happened.
It was, without a doubt, one of Arthur’s favorite activities since their explosive escape from the cave a couple of weeks prior. Just laying on the grass outside the little cottage he and Lewis now shared and watching the clouds drift by. It wasn’t just a daytime activity either. Far too many nights were interrupted by nightmares on Arthur’s part. Some were memories of Lewis’s death, his own painful transformation, and being trapped in the cave. Others were made up of the dark whispers he had heard, trying to steal his body from him (was it even his body anymore? It certainly didn’t look it.) The worst though, were dreams of the cave where Lewis didn’t come back and he was trapped alone in the darkness with nothing but pain and the voice.
Those dreams always ended with him wrapped in big strong arms. Lewis would hold him close and whisper that he was safe and never alone. Arthur would cling to him, arms and wings wrapped tightly around his torso and his tail doing a great impression of a blood pressure cuff on Lewis’s arm or leg. Lewis never complained though, and just carried him outside, where they would watch the stars until either Arthur fell back asleep or the sun came up. The only exception was when the night was overcast and neither the moon or stars shined through. Neither of them liked seeing dark nothingness above them and on those night they stayed inside by the fire, Lewis cuddling him and singing lullabies.
Arthur didn’t know if ghosts could have nightmares when they rested in their anchor. Lewis never gave him an answer when asked, which either meant yes or that Lewis still found the whole thing surreal and didn’t want to talk about it. Arthur decided to err on the side of doing what he could and whenever Lewis had to rest Arthur would cradle the locket close to his chest, whispering comfort and focusing on how grateful he was that Lewis had been with him every step of the way.
He was laying on the couch, doing just that when a low rumbling sound washed over him. He perked his ears, waiting to see if the sound happened again. A few minutes later another rumble had Arthur off the couch and heading towards the door.
The clouds were still a ways away, but he could see them heading closer, flashes of light like the flash of a lighthouse. He could see the curtain of rain approaching, hear birds calling out as they tried to make it to shelter before the rains started.
The glare of the sun was blocked out as the colors became more vibrant. The small hairs on the nape of Arthur’s neck and his tail prickled as the atmosphere changed. Then it happened.
Pit Pat PitPatPitPat
The worst of the clouds were still a ways off, but the first drops of rain was hitting the porch roof. Arthur took a hesitant step off the porch. He had been through probably hundreds of rains storms in his life, and not felt more about them then mild annoyance. This one though…
There seemed to be something different about this one. Something wilder, for all the storm didn’t seem that bad. Maybe it was just that this was the first rain he’d seen since the cave. Maybe he was just projecting some emotions on to the storm. Either way he took his a hesitant step off the porch and into the rain.
The drops that hit him were cold, not warm like it would be in mid summer. Still he leaned into it, lifting his head and feeling the rain run down his face and back. His wings spread out and he could feel even more rain running down. It felt freeing. Cleansing.
The golden heart he clutched to his chest pulsed and in a rush of purple flames Lewis appeared. “Arthur what’s going on? You’re…” His initial thoughts of out in the rain and soaking wet were quickly replaced by happy. Arthur tended toward melancholy, even on good days. But he was standing before him with a big grin on his face and his tail twitching like that one internet cat that liked squeezing into small boxes.
Arthur surged forward, capturing him in a hug. “It’s raining Lew!”
“I noticed.” Lewis laughed at the sheer mirth in Arthur’s face. “Having fun?” “Mmmhmm,” Arthur was in full on snuggle mode, so with a move born of long practice Lewis scooped him up and carried him to the porch. He didn’t want to go inside, not when Arthur seemed to be enjoying the weather so much. Also not when they were dripping wet.
Responding to his thoughts, his little deadbeats floated out of the house, each carrying a towel several sizes larger than it. Lewis plopped on over his head, and put another over Arthur, scrubbing his blonde mane. Arthur laughed and playfully shoved his hand away, but left the towel where it was.
“Since when are you such a big fan of rain?” Lewis asked, using his own towel to dry himself off.
“Since now I guess. It’s just so beautiful and free. We’re really free aren’t we, Lew?” 
The last part was said softly and gave Lewis a better idea of where this was coming from.
“We are.” Lewis said, just as softly.  “We’re free.”
Summer Rain
“Not now,” Lewis grumbled as he felt the first few drops fall in his head.
Given their need to stay hidden and their lack of funds, getting food for Arthur had turned into a matter of foraging and fishing. (They’d briefly considered hunting, had managed to capture a rabbit on a cage trap, and promptly let it go as neither had the heart to kill it). They’d also taken to trying to cultivate some of the edible plants they’d found, with mixed successes.
Arthur had been re-designing the fish trap they were using and had been focused enough that Lewis felt okay going to forage by himself, after telling Arthur where he’d be going. There had been a spot in the forest where Lewis had found some manzanilla shrubs and something he hoped would be a walnut tree (he wouldn’t know for sure for another few weeks)
The manzanilla was just starting to fruit, not ready to be harvested, but Lewis was content collecting some flower petals. It wouldn’t quite be lemonade, but it would be a nice drink for a summer’s day.
He’d just finished gathering petals when a familiar scent wafted past him. Lewis had froze, believing for a moment he’d imagined it. But the wind picked up again and the scent was even stronger. Lewis followed it until he’d found a patch of a grass-like plants with small white flowers.
Garlic.
Without salt or pepper, seasoning hadn’t been anywhere close to his normal skill level. Garlic, though, he could use to create something spectacular. Petals gently stored in the pocket of his vest, Lewis went to work digging up the wonderful aromatic, placing them in a bag he’d conjured. He’d just about finished when those first few raindrops had found him.
He pulled the petals from his pocket and conjured a small box to keep them dry before the rain really picked up. Lewis took a moment to get his surroundings and realized he’d not gone this far out before and wasn’t completely sure how to get back. He could almost kick himself for just following a scent on a breeze and not paying attention to where he was going, garlic be damned.
You could fly up a small voice in his head suggested. Get your bearing that way
No, if he didn’t know where he was, that was too risky. What if he was right by someone’s house and he was seen? Or near a road and seeing him caused someone to crash? They were excuses, true. He knew the real reason was the idea of being high enough over the trees scared the bejeezus out of him. But they were valid enough he convinced himself to keep his feet on the ground. One hand keeping the rain out of his eyes, Lewis picked the direction he thought he’d come from and ventured back. The trees looked kind of familiar, but he knew how deceptive wooded areas could be.
What if he’d gotten well and truly lost? Would Arthur be okay? What if Arthur though he had abandoned him? 
Each thought made him a little more frantic, the worsening rain driving him even further in panic. Was that the same manzanilla he’d been picking petals from, or different plant altogether? His anchor thudded against his chest as though it was a beating heart. Forget the height, he was going to fly. The fear of being up high was terrifying, but nothing next to the fear of leaving Arthur alone. He just needed to get up his courage and-
“Found you!” The excitement in Arthur’s voice matched the relief Lewis felt as he turned and saw him best friend lolloping towards him, still a bit awkward on all fours, but right now the best thing Lewis had ever seen.
In one last leap Arthur was on him, arms wrapped around his waist and one wing spread over Lewis’s head, protecting him from the rain. “I came looking for you when the rain started,” Arthur explained. 
“I’m glad you did. I maaay have gotten myself turned around,” Lewis admitted sheepishly, one hand behind his neck.
“Well let me then have the honor of escorting you home.” Arthur didn’t move the wing protecting Lewis, but swiveled to loop Lewis’s arm in his own. “Shall we?”
“Let’s,” Lewis laughed in spite of himself and let himself be led back to their cottage.
They got up to the porch and Arthur attempted to to squeeze out his mane, which had gotten thoroughly soaked.
“Let me,” Lewis offered, setting down the bag of garlic. He ran a warmer than usual hand through Arthur’s hair. Arthur made an almost purring sound as he melted against Lewis’s touch. Lewis smiled, sitting down and pulling him into his lap, where he continued to comb Arthur’s hair with his fingers, slowly drying it.
“Damn. You would be, like, the kings of massages now.” Arthur commented, his tone completely relaxed.
“Well, you’ve always been the king of tense muscles, so I guess it works out.,”
“Mmmm” Arthur didn’t even attempt a comeback, just relaxing to the impromptu scalp massage and the sound of the rain around them.
The rain wasn’t so bad Lewis decided. Not bad at all.
Autumn Rain
The rains in autumn were a lot more violent than the showers of summer. It was colder with high winds and much more thunder and lightning. Even with his newfound love of rain Arthur had no interest in going past the porch. He kept his wings tight around him to the best of his ability, afraid if a good gust caught them he’d go flying.
“I’m a bit worried about the garden,” Lewis confessed, handing Arthur a mug with primrose tea.
“Do we want to try and enclose it, like a greenhouse?” Arthur suggested.
“I don’t think we need to go that far, but some more wind breaks would not go amiss. Not if it keeps up like this.”
“I don’t know that it will.” Arthur shrugged. “We’re just about out of the season for it. But I’m happy to help you put some up if you want to.” Then he cocked his head, “Lewis do you hear that?”
“The only thing I hear is the wind,” Lewis strained to listen above the storm. Then it caught his ears just after the crash of thunder, a small child’s scream of terror. Lewis bolted off the porch without thinking, his deadbeats right behind him.
They separated as they went, Lewis wanting to cover as much ground as possible. After getting lost he’d made sure he was familiar with every inch of the wilderness around there cottage. But knowing his way around didn’t tell him where the child was.
Another frightened scream, followed by a call of “Lewis I found him!”  gave him the lead he needed. He and his deadbeats swooped in to where they found  a small boy around Belle’s age huddled against a tree. He was shaking slightly and Lewis wasn’t sure if it was from being cold, or from seeing Arthur, as the boy seemed terrified by him.
Arthur shot Lewis a look, as if pleading with him to do something. Lewis conjured a copy of his glasses, no sense in scaring the kid more than he already was.  “Hey kid, what’s your name?”
The kid’s eyes shifted back and forth between Lewis and Arthur. 
“My name’s Lewis, and this is Arthur. We’re not going to hurt you, I promise. But it’s not safe out here.” As if to prove his point, there was a loud crack and the sound of a large branch falling nearby.
“We need to get him inside, Lew. It’s getting dangerous.” Arthur had to raise his voice to be heard over the storm. 
 The kid was obviously weighing his option whether to go with them or run when another crash of thunder had him jumping into Lewis’s offered hand. 
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Lewis said softly. The child was definitely colder than he should have been and Lewis turned up the heat just a little. He looked up at his little minions. “Can you do a search in case there’s someone around looking for him?” His deadbeats saluted and scattered again and Lewis picked up the boy and held him to his chest. He headed back to the house as fast as he could, Arthur right behind him. He didn’t relax until they were in the door, out of the storm.
“What is this place?” The kid asked, poking his head up.
“It’s our home,” Lewis gently explained. “You can stay here until the storm lets up and we can take you back to civilization.”
“Do you have a phone?” The boy tried to hold back a sniffle. “My Mom’s got to be really worried.”
“We don’t have any electricity here, sorry. But there’s a convenience store a bit away. They’ll have a phone.”
“Oh…” The kid tucked his head down.
“Don’t worry, big storms like this usually don’t last too long, and this one’s been going for a bit.” He didn’t want to let go of the kid just yet, not until at the very least his clothes were dry. Hopefully with his powers acting as a personal heater that wouldn’t take too long.
Meanwhile Arthur slinked back into the house, trying to keep the kid from noticing him just yet. It was funny, Arthur always thought he would be crushed the first time someone was scared of him, but he wasn’t. Maybe it was the crisis situation of a lost child, or maybe just that he was a kid and Arthur had seen kids be scared of Lance of all people.
Arthur had shook himself dry as best he could on the porch, but still went straight for a towel so he didn’t drip more than necessary.  He tried to think of something he could do to help. Something warm to eat would probably be good for the kid. He stuck his head in the kitchen, trying to see if Lewis had started dinner. Sure enough on the stove was a pot containing what Arthur could now recognize as mashed yucca root.  Thankfully it was a slow cooking food that hadn’t burned during their run into the forest. 
Arthur scooped it up in a bowl and added some of the blackberry preserves Lewis had made to make it a bit sweeter for the kid. Now the hard part - getting him to eat it. This would be easier if Lew still had a Deadbeat around, those things were too cute to be scared of.
Arthur pulled his wings as tight and hunched over, trying to look smaller.  He made his way into the living roof and saw the kid curled up on Lewis’s lap. 
“I brought you some food,” he said softly.
The kid yelped and buried his face in Lewis’s chest.
“It’s okay,” Lewis said soothingly. “I told you. Arthur isn’t going to hurt you.” Even as he said it, Lewis shot his a look as if to say That’s your dinner?
I survived weeks without food, I can miss one dinner. And he needs it more, was Arthur’s returning look. “It’s warm and tasty,” Arthur promised. “And hey, bet you can’t guess what my favorite food is?”
The boy peeked at him fearfully. “Is it little boys?”
“Not even close.” Arthur chuckled, even though it was a little forced. “Got another guess?”
“Is it… snakes and rats?” The boy looked like he was thinking hard.
“No, and ew.”
“Rattlesnake pasta is good,” Lewis argued.
“You think chocolate covered fire tastes good, invalid.” Arthur stuck out his tongue.
“Rude,” was Lewis’s only reply. 
“And it’s pizza.” Arthur winked at the kid, who had been following their back and forth like a tennis match.
His jaw dropped. “P-Pizza?”
“With fish on it, so I don’t think Arthur has any room to complain about my taste in snacks.” Lewis clarified.
“Yes, and it’s delicious. But the pizza guy won’t deliver out here, so we’ve got to make due.” Arthur said sadly. “But this stuff is pretty good, and it’s warm too.”
The kid still looked at him suspiciously but took the bowl. He took one bite, not breaking eye contact with Arthur, only for them to widen in surprise. “S’good.”
“Told you. Who knows, maybe by the time you’re finished, the rain will stop.” Arthur suggested. As if on queue, there was another crash of thunder, causing the kid to drop the bowl and bury himself into Lewis’s chest.
Arthur dove forward, catching the bowl before it hit the ground. The kid sniffed a bit. “M’sorry. I know I shouldn’t be scared of thunder and lightning.”
“Hey, it’s okay to be scared. I used to be scared almost all the time.” Arthur confessed.
“Why would you be scared? You’re a monster?”
“He’s not!” The words escaped Lewis’s mouth before Arthur could even say anything. “He’s not a monster.”
“He’s not?” The kid looked at Arthur’s horns and wings in confusion.
“Let me tell you a story while you finish eating.” Lewis sat back as Arthur handed the kid the bowl again. “Once upon a time there were three friends. One day they heard about an evil monster that lived in a cave.”
Arthur shuddered at the reminder.
“They faced the monster and beat it. But as it died, the monster decided to curse them. The first was the leader. She was brave and caring woman who would do anything for her friends. But the monster wiped them from her memory. She wandered out of the cave, not knowing her friends hurt and needed help. That, and all the happy memories of them together, was gone.”
Lewis couldn’t help drooping a bit as he told the story. Arthur’s wings had closed around himself and his tail had wrapped itself around Lewis’s ankle.
“The second friend was cursed to walk the world as a ghost. He looked mostly normal, but he could neither eat nor truly sleep. And if he got mad his hair turned to flames. But the worst curse was done to third friend, for he was the one who had defeated the monster in the end.”
“This friend was the kindest and most loyal of the three. But he was cursed to look like the monster so people would be afraid of him and attack him. There was a fourth person in the cave. I won’t call him a friend, because he willingly abandoned the second and third to their fates, but before he left he attacked the third friend thinking he was the monster, and then closed the cave so he could never be free, even if it meant trapping in the last two as well. But he didn’t count on the second friend using his curse to escape and free the third.”
“If people saw Arthur, they’d be scared of him, so we have to hide in the woods. But we have a nice home and it’s not too bad out here. But no one can know we’re here, so when you go back you need to keep this a secret, okay?”
“Is there a way to break the curse?” As fantastical a story as it was, Arthur was too real for him to ignore it.
“I’m sure there is. We just don’t know it yet, but one day we’ll figure it out.” Lewis assured him.
The boy was quiet for a moment. “Josiah. That’s my name. But you can call me Joe.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Joe.” Arthur held out a clawed hand and let Joe give it a shake. “See, you shook hands with me. I’d say that’s pretty brave. In fact, stay right here a sec, I’ll be right back.” Arthur went to the bed room and grabbed something from the top shelf of the closet. It had taken his a while to clean all the blood off it, but he hadn’t worn it since losing his vest.
“Here you go.” Arthur gave Joe his star badge. “Let that be a reminder that even when you’re afraid, you’re a really brave kid.”
Joe took the dented yellow tin in his hands, holding it almost reverently.
‘Are you sure?’ Lewis mouthed at him, that star being one of Arthur’s very few mementos of happier times, but Arthur nodded. Better it become the treasured item of another kid than just collecting dust.
Joe’s eyes darted over to the window, where the storm still raged. “Can you tell me another story?”
“Of course,” Lewis said softly. “I’ve got several.”
~
“Joe, Joe, it’s time to wake up.”
“Don’t wanna.” He was comfy and warm, being carried in someone’s arms.
“Sorry, little man. But we’re almost to your search party.”
Search party? Joe  scrunched his eyes shut trying to figure out what he was being told. That was right, he’d gotten lost in the forest and been found by two very strange people. He cracked his eyes open and saw a wash of green. It was Arthur’s wings, he realized. Arthur had been carrying him while they were walking. The storm had stopped, but now he could hear another sound, people calling his name.
“This is as far as we can go, or else someone might see us.” Lewis explained. “But these little guys will help you.” Three little pink beings appeared on Lewis’s cue.
“What are they?” Joe asked in wonder.
“Just think of them as forest spirits.” Arthur said with a grin. “Kind of like us, I guess.” He put Joe down only for the kid to hug him, then hug Lewis.
“Thank you so much.” Joe whispered.
“Any time kiddo,” Arthur laughed. “That said, it’s probably not a good idea to just wander in the woods. There’s plenty out here that’s dangerous. Like snakes. Which should not go in pasta.”
Joe giggled, before grabbing the tiny hand of the deadbeat. “Bye Arthur. Bye Lewis.”
“Bye Joe,” they said in unison, waving till he was out of sight.
Once gone they let out a breath of relief.
“He’s going to be okay,” Lewis said.
“Yeah, he is. It was...nice, you know? You’re good with kids, Lew.”
Lewis snorted. “I have three younger sisters. What’s your excuse?”
“My excuse?” Arthur asked questioningly.
“You had him go from actively scared of you to hugging you goodbye in the space of a couple of hours. You’re not so bad with kids yourself.”
Arthur was quiet for a moment. “You know you can go back right? Your parents and sisters-”
“Have each other. One day I’ll go back, when you can come with me.”
“That day may never come, Lew. You know that.”
“I know nothing of the kind.” Lewis gave Arthur a gentle kiss on his forehead, right between his horns. 
“What am I, one of your sisters?” Arthur asked fondly.
“You’re family, Artie. Always have been, always will be.” He ruffled his friend hair.
“Don’t start that unless you want the favor returned,” Arthur threatened with a grin. “Let’s go home Lew.”
Lewis put an arm over his shoulder, “Lets.”
Winter Rain
Josiah Jones hated the rain. He’d never liked thunder and lightning, but he hadn’t started disliking the rain itself until a few months ago when he’d been lost in the woods. He was saved by the nice forest spirits, but he still had bad dreams about the cold and wet.
It was raining again, even colder in February. The rain has caused his Mom to lose control of the car for a moment and they’d crashed into a guardrail. No one was hurt, and the car wasn’t even badly damaged, but it made him hate the rain even more.
A tow truck had taken them to a little garage in a place called Tempo and his Mom was talking with the mechanic, leaving Joe to sit glaring at the rain out the window.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the badge Arthur had given him. Arthur told him it was a reminder that he was brave even if he was scared and he needed that now.
“Excuse me?”  A lady’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “My name is Vivi. Could you tell me where you found that?”
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rainsonata · 4 years
Text
Doppelgänger 8/15
Chapter 08: Incoordination 
Fandom/Pairing: Elsword; none Rating: T Word Count: 9,086
Summary: It was like looking into a mirror. What happens when one’s reflection talks back and throws uncomfortable questions? El Search Party struggles to find entrance into the Demon Realm, but Dominator has a plan.   
Alternative Title: Dominator fucked up and now everyone meets their alternative selves   
AO3 Link / FF.NET Link
— [Chapter 01] [Chapter 02] [Chapter 03] [Chapter 04] [Chapter 05] [Chapter 06] [Chapter 07] [Chapter 08] [Chapter 09] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] —  
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Class Notes: 
Canon Path: Knight Emperor, Aether Sage, Daybreaker, Rage Hearts, Code: Esencia, Comet Crusader, Apsara, Empire Sword, Doom Bringer, Ishtar and Chevalier (Innocent), Bluhen   
Alternative Path: Rune Slayer, Oz Sorcerer, Anemos, Furious Blade, Code: Ultimate, Fatal Phantom, Devi, Flame Lord, Dominator, Timoria and Abysser (Catastrophe), Richter
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Anemos
True to the El Master’s words, Demon Realm was a mirror to their world in a sense that she could identify some of its inhabitants as distant relatives to their Elrian counterparts. The deer-like creatures had multiple eyes, but aside from that, they ran off startled when she approached too close for comfort. Nights outlasted the days in this part of the strange new territory, the rain was plentiful. Trees and shrubs overshadowed Anemos and glimmered in the dark in colors she didn’t know existed. These creatures weren’t surviving, but thriving in a world absent of the El. 
The elven elders once spoke of this place when she was a curious child, eager to learn more about the world beyond her village. They whispered about a world that lacked the same resources they relied on, where the sun barely reached their inhabitants and it was a fight between the strong and the weak. It was true that Demon Realm was harsher than what she was used to. Without the goddess’s influence, Anemos had to use all of her abilities and experiences to avoid losing blood.      
Anemos played with a stray strand of hair, wrung her hand over the communicator tucked behind her ear. She replayed a message she had received shortly after she had found Dominator lying on the ground. It was a brief message from Richter whispering,  
“Come here… fighting has deceased.” 
A map appeared through holographic projectors installed into the communicators. Red and blue lines formed around the landmasses with stars marked to indicate the landmarks scattered across the region. The first half of the map was covered in shady trees and narrow streams between the iron mountains. The second half was obscured in dark clouds, overshadowed by a name written in Elrian. 
“Varnimyr,” Anemos examined the map. “Is that what this place is called?”
“You’re going to listen to Toothpaste?” Dominator peeked from behind. The scientist walked with a limp from his fight with Esencia, dragging his right foot but was otherwise well enough to talk and make comments about their teammate with a smirk.     
“Do you have a different plan in mind?” She looked at Dominator with scrutiny, “I haven’t heard from Raven since he took off after the other Ara and I can’t imagine Ain winning a fight by himself.”
“I’m sure he’ll talk his head off with those demons,” Dominator chuckled despite Anemos rolling her eyes. “Don’t you think this can be a trap? They’re trying to lure us out when we let our guard down.” 
That couldn’t be right, Anemos shook her head. Fear and anger were absent from Richter when he contacted them, keeping his voice low with his words flowing close together. Embarrassment? Shame? It was difficult to tell without seeing his face to gauge the intent behind his message. Anemos had known the priest long enough to understand that something was on Richter’s mind. She sensed hesitation when Richter spoke. Words were hard to come by for Richter, a sentiment Anemos shared because there were many words on the elven language that could not be translated into Elrian for equal measure. 
Anemos found it pointless to have the two El Search Parties argue over the disappearances of their leaders, but that didn’t mean she was one to avoid a fight if the opposing initiated, which was often the case throughout their journey. If the alternate El Search Party truly wanted to take them down, pulling them together would be counterproductive. It would be easier to defeat them by dividing them and targeting their weak points. She was sure the other party had considered them sharing similar weaknesses as their counterparts.  
“Even if this was a trap, we already lost Elsword.” Anemos said, “I’m not losing another friend.” 
Dominator dropped his smile and forced a more somber expression. The scientist averted his eyes and pursed his lips, mumbling an apology. He pushed Apocalypse away when the cat cube saw its master frowning and ordered its dismissal. The destructive weapon meowed in protest, but scattered into smaller blocks and disappeared. Dominator ordered Dynamo to run scans and signaled Anemos to keep walking.     
It was those eyes again. They were the same ones their friends all shared  - some of them more obvious than others. Ones of pain and regret about something from a distant past catching up to them and nipping them by the ankles. For all of his dramatics, Dominator was a child even by human standards. Something struck a chord in Anemos when Dominator once casually remarked with a cheerful smile that he was used to scars. It was troubling to see the scientist express confusion when Anemos offered to help him tend to his wounds.      
“You said Raven was with the fox?” Dominator deepened his frown, rubbing his chin in thought. Dynamo flashed and ushered the white-haired man to a set of charts and codes outlining them. He let the machine whirr in the background as he followed Anemos deeper into the woods. Dominator glared past her shoulders and ordered Dynamo to line up and set up installs.   
There was a young woman in white. Dried blood smeared at the edge of Apsara’s clothes, forming a dark crust around her sleeves. The tassels on her sleeves and waist became ragged and clung together from sweat and worn use. Apsara used her scarf as a makeshift bandage by wrapping it around her right arm. She waved for them to wait. Apsara ran with her arms tucked in and lifted the back of her dress to avoid falling over. She stopped to catch her breath when she caught up to them.    
“I didn’t think,” Apsara gasped. “You were still here. Mr. Blade said you might be meeting up with everyone.” 
Mr. Blade? Ah, she must be referring to the former member of the Crow Mercenary Knights. It sounded like Blade received Richter’s message as well. Who else did Richter contact in the short span of time between the time Anemos found Dominator until now?       
“Where is he?” Dominator scanned for the older man. “What did you do to him?”
“Do to him?” Apsara frantically shook her head and waved her hands, “It’s not like that! He told me to go ahead because he saw Ms. Eve and… eep!”
Pushing too much of her weight onto her knees, Apsara lost her balance and tipped over. She stuck out one leg to the side and landed on her stomach before falling head first into the ground. 
Anemos went to check on the other woman and winced when she saw reopened wounds. Apsara rolled to her side and hugged her knees with tears running down her pink face. 
“Are you okay?” Anemos offered a hand. 
Flustered, Apsara wiped her tears and nodded. Anemos pulled her up and ushered Dominator to help. His baffled expression reflected what was on the elf woman’s mind, but this wasn’t about them. She understood Dominator’s distrust, but neither of them was in a good position to continue fighting without depleting their supplies. If they wanted to make peaceful terms with the opposing team to keep the fighting to a minimum, that meant cooperating before they could find Richter and get a proper explanation from the priest. 
They moved Apsara to a safer place, away from the poisonous plants and worn down the path where demons commonly tread. Anemos used a bit of the ointment she made from the plants she found and applied them over Apsara’s reopened wounds. 
“This might sting,” Anemos warned her. 
“Thank you very much!” Apsara bowed her head into a ninety-degree angle, “I’m sorry!” 
“It’s just a fall,” Dominator said in disbelief. “Why do you come to us when we’re the enemy?”  
“I thought you can’t be all that bad if you didn’t try to kill me yet.” Apsara sniffed, “I saw Ms. Rena and thought everything would be okay because she’s always kind and patient. It’s my fault you’re taking the time to help me after Blade already helped me.” 
That was… one way to look at things. An optimistic outlook, but one that touched Anemos’s heart. So the other Rena was kind and patient. Huh… She’ll have to meet her and see if Apsara’s claims were true. It was the first time they had an opponent come to them without trying to lash out at them when words were no use. This was Ara? Anemos smiled to hide the confusion clouding her mind. She was better at doing that than some of her younger friends.   
“So Raven shows his true colors,” Dominator grumbled. 
“Your friend didn’t tell you what happened?” She was confused. “I thought he contacted you.” 
“Toothpaste?” Dominator scoffed, “he sent us a cryptic note telling us what to do.” 
“He didn’t go into detail what happened,” Anemos explained. 
“Oh…” Apsara frowned. The long strand of hair hanging from her hairline drooped. She wiggled her fingers to test the new bandage on her hand. “Lu and Ciel told me your friend agreed to work with them to find Elsword - ours, I mean.” 
“Your Elsword, our Elsword. Would you be offended if we stuck to nicknames instead? These names are getting confusing.” Dominator complained. 
“It was your idea to bring us here,” Anemos reminded him. 
“Did you have something else in mind?” He twitched, “excuse me, but none of us can travel through dimensions at free will! And this is Demon Realm, so my calculations weren’t completely off!”   
Demon Realm was already occupied by alternate versions of themselves. What did that tell them? How long did Apsara’s group stay in the Demon Realm and how much did it predict the outcome for their group? Anemos wasn’t one to delve into the future as much as humans sometimes did, but she felt it was her duty to help restore the El because of its importance for all Elrian races including hers.
Does this mean they went into the wrong dimension if they encountered themselves? Anemos didn’t ask whether Dominator had a plan on getting back, but she was sure it was a recurring thought for the scientist from the increased amount of time he spent in front of the screen as of lately. Dominator snickered and talked about data collection, but she could see frustration behind the facade. This wasn’t supposed to happen and now they were wasting time looking for an eighteen-year old that wasn’t even from their original group.    
“Why are you here?” Anemos asked Apsara, “are you here because of the Dark El too?”
Apsara nodded. 
“Lu and Ciel called and Blade heard from your friend, so we were together.” Apsara pressed her hands together, “We found Eve and Blade said it must have been Add...”
“He knows me so well,” Dominator chuckled.
Anemos shushed the scientist and gestured to Apsara to continue. 
“I offered to help, but Blade told me to go ahead and find you two.” She said, “he told me he would catch up to us later with Eve.” 
“How kind of him to do the heavy lifting,” Dominator laughed. 
“You left her there because you knew he would come back, didn’t you?” Anemos deadpanned. 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dominator grinned. 
Liar. 
Anemos had no doubt Blade had the strength to carry a humanoid sized Nasod across Demon Realm, but wondered if the mercenary received the same message as she and Dominator did. Richter had left them a vague report with more questions than answers. If Apsara could be believed, then they may have just gained new allies that could help them find a way back to their dimension.   
“May I ask where Rune is?” Anemos asked. “It’s not that we don’t trust you, but I think it’s fair that we know where our friend went.” 
“Right!” Apsara smiled, “I think he’s with Aisha and Rena last time I heard from them!”    
“Last time?” Dominator noted the wording. 
“Our Add said communication is slightly delayed in Demon Realm than in Elrios,” She let out a nervous laugh, “it’s funny thinking that there are two of you now!” 
Dominator snorted, “I’m sure it is.” 
“Will we be seeing that group soon?” Anemos asked. 
“Mm!” Apsara nodded, “they’re on their way. It sounded like they found something big!”
“The other Elbrat?” Dominator asked. 
“Maybe!” Apsara beamed. 
Apsara had a bandage placed over her forehead to cover the bruise where she fell over. She sat with her legs tucked to the side with her knees on the ground. Next to Dominator brooding about his miscalculations, Apsara was blinding with her innocent questions and naive optimism. She and Richter would have Dominator running for his money to explain what sarcasm was.  
Anemos decided that Devi’s counterpart was strange. She searched for an ulterior behind the woman’s cheery disposition, but it was hard to see anything past that when Apsara was always moving and asking them more questions about themselves. Anemos saw Dominator staring at Devi’s alternate too.   
“Did I say something wrong?” Apsara stopped smiling when she felt their stares, “Is there something on my face?”
“You’re... not what I expected,” Dominator said and averted his eyes. “Let’s get going. No need to waste time if everyone else is on the move. Just don’t fall on your face again and you’ll be okay.” 
“Wow, he really is Add.” Apsara was amazed. 
“They’re the same?” Anemos was curious. 
“Oh no, they’re very different!” She laughed, “yours talks more!” 
---------------------------------------------------------
Doom Bringer
Bringer sneezed. 
Despite the warnings and preparations based on the El Masters’ precautions, Demon Realm was colder than what he was prepared for. Their nights were almost as cold as Hamel’s mild winters. Bringer couldn’t always rely on Dynamo’s heater as they were straying further from the El’s influence.  
He tugged on his sleeves and wrapped the fur coat closer around his body. Electricity circulated through his body and sent his blood pumping with adrenaline, a feeling that sent the brawler into a frenzy. The black markings implanted in his arms glowed in unison to the rest of his body engulfed by plasma and electricity. He had never felt more alive.    
Bringer looked at the woman who declared herself as Devi. There was something dangerous about the woman. She looked like Apsara, but Dynamo gave him different readings in her El resonance. It was as if she was a different person because he was getting higher readings in magic from her than he would have for Apsara. Devi placed her weight inward and walked with stride. Her voice cut through the thin air like the sharp spear she wielded, a noble woman’s laughter contradicting her crude smile. Devi saw past Bringer, for she had her eyes on one target.  
“Elesis!” Devi screamed Empire’s name. 
Devi flew over his head with her spear in hand. The martial artist landed on her feet and blocked Empire’s blade with her weapon’s handle, pushing the Velder knight’s claymore away and stopping her attacks. The marks on her cheeks burned red as her eyes. Devi’s spear danced across, an elaborate dance as she twirled and the sound of blades clashed.    
Every time they attempted to take one step, they were met with someone ready to object to them. This time, it was fighting their alternate selves and Glave was nowhere to be seen. Bringer suspected it was his doing. It sounded like something Glave would do when the administer of Henir’s Time and Space held no qualms about making them relive fights with old enemies for entertainment. Who else would have the power to bring over a large number of people from different dimensions? He smelled a rat in all of this. 
“Ara!” Empire slammed her foot on the ground and kept her stance. Her eyes didn’t leave Devi and barked, “Add, what are you waiting for? Help Ain and Chung!”  
“As if I’m interested in dealing with crazy,” Bringer scowled. He didn’t enjoy being bossed around by the brat’s sister. It was bad enough getting ordered by an illiterate child all the time and now the idiot had gone missing! 
Raised in the army at a young age, Empire was sculpted into the ideal leader and remembered an old lesson in making use of one’s resources. She kept them together as a group and made use of their abilities by having Bringer run scans for Knight’s possible whereabouts. Bluhen claimed he was sensitive in detecting El resonance as Knight was, so she let him come along. Their group was past the point of referring to Bluhen as a priest, but the annoying green man kept up with the charades and spoke about his Goddess. Bringer couldn’t understand why Knight saw him as a close friend. It was infuriating listening to Bluhen speak as if he was hundreds of years old.    
It was a combination of Dynamo and Bluhen’s ability to detect El resonance that brought them back to the entrance of a mysterious cavern brimming with demonic activity. Demon Realm was naturally going to have high levels of demonic energy and activity, but Bringer’s readings showed a high density of demons occupying the area. They weren’t high enough to suggest levels of aggression, but he wasn’t going to let that slip without further analysis. The El Search Party better be grateful for his extra efforts!
There were indications of active levels of El resonance escalating from within the cavern that was likely created by Knight himself. El resonance users frequently left imprints behind when they used tremendous amounts of energy. It was like leaving footprints behind and could be used to trace back the location of its user. Assuming Knight didn’t stray far from where Dynamo picked up his activity, it shouldn’t be difficult to locate the brat, especially when demons didn’t naturally use El resonance.   
Finding Bluhen wasn’t hard. Gold light showered from above, flickering and lighting up the skies like fireworks. Bluhen hovered overhead, his body nearly swallowed by green energy encircling around him. Extracting energy from the ground, Bluhen let them float before having them explode as they crashed down. He formed dense energy balls inside his palms before using it to push himself away from the resisting winds. 
The pendulum hooked around his index finger as Bluhen weaved through the flames and was pursued by two figures in blue - a man and a young girl. The man sported a cap over his white hair and wielded dagger knives inside an oversized coat. A girl landed on her feet beside him, wearing matching outfits of a cap, jacket, and a collared shirt with a black tie tucked under. What was this, take your child to work day? 
“Who the hell are you supposed to be?” Bringer asked. He ordered Dynamo to shift themselves into two disks beneath his feet to support his weight. 
“Judging by the uncool hair and the way you look at me, you must be Add.” Abysser grinned, “I don’t suppose you plan on handing Elsword over to us so we can be off and on our way?”
“I’m afraid not, Demon.” Bluhen fluttered his eyes opened and smiled. “Ms. Knight Captain gave her orders and Elsword made his decision to stay with us.”
Bringer growled. 
What’s wrong with his hair? As if Abysser could talk when the asshole had bobby pins in his hair! He punched his hand into a tight fist and cracked his knuckles. Bringer planted his first into the ground and cracked it open, sending vibrations through the stoned earth and sent sparks flying from his body.     
Those two were Lu and Ciel? Bringer searched for familiar traits in the man and the child. He recognized Timoria for the same toothy grin she used to mock him and when stealing his stuff, but Abysser was unrecognizable when he wore the ridiculous hat. Timoria was shorter than he remembered.  
“You must be Ain,” Timoria said with an equally forced smile. “I was wondering when you would show up.”
Abysser brandished one hand over his gunblade, a smaller and thinner version of the one Chevalier had. Nodding his head towards Timoria, the demon propelled himself, firing bullets at Bringer. He landed on his feet and recoiled when Bringer blocked the bullets with Dynamo and sent jolts of electricity to the butler. 
Plasma coated over Bringer’s body, static and electricity running through his veins and tingling over his fingertips. The brawler placed his feet over Dynamo and flew over to Abysser to deliver a kick over the demon’s left shoulder blade. Lines of chains emerged from the soil up. They chained Bringer by the feet and forced the brawler down to his knees. When he was down, they went for his wrists and resisted the electric currents created by his Nasod Armor. 
A shadowed demon appeared behind Timoria. She ordered the demon to extend its claws as it emitted blue fire, but its path was halted by Bluhen forming rings of line around the creature and forcing it to disperse. Light poured from Bluhen and rained down on Timoria and Abysser. The shackled chains weakened and Bringer broke free, forming his hands into fists and fired pulse cannons at the two demons.              
Bringer’s lips curled up as he kicked the ground and increased his speed, ecstatic in finding a new opponent with abilities he had yet to experience. They looked like Ishtar and Chevalier, yet their powers were drawn from a different source and utilized them for different purposes. A battle with them could provide sufficient data for later analysis! This was a mere fight to add to his database and increase his efficiency in battle. Bringer’s laughter erupted into a cackle. His eyes widened and his chest heaved as the brawler clawed the gravel with his hands and crawled back up. Sweat evaporated from his pores as he joined his opponents in an elaborate waltz and demanded more.      
“Is that all you got?” Bringer laughed, “You’re pathetic!” 
He had Dynamo record all of his fights to expand his database, but Bringer held the habit of making mental notes as he went through the flow of battle. It was in his nature to search for strengths and weaknesses in himself and from his opponents even as he let his Nasod Armor guide him and form punches at his opponents. Dark energy exploded from Abysser, holding dagger knives between his knuckles and using them as projectiles. Bringer puffed his chest and deflected the knives with his Nasod Armor, sending them pointing back to Abysser with bared canines.  
“Supreme Punishment!”
Portals opened from the skyline. Multiple rifts expanded as Abysser and Timoria posed for a wave of demons to loom from the skies. They shrieked in unison to the demon duo summoning darkness from within and exploded. Blue flames showered down on Bringer and Bluhen.      
Light blinded the cavern entrance and burned through his retina. Red flashed behind Bluhen before the priest spun his pendulum and light formed at the end of his weapon. Embedding the ground with a touch of his hand, he teleported away from Timoria and Abysser. Energy surfaced from below as he inflicted damage with waves of projectiles raining down onto the two demons. 
“You can heal on command?” Timoria groaned, “Now you’re just playing with us!” 
“We need to end this quickly,” Bluhen reminded the brawler. His eyes were lured over to the cavern’s entrance with uncharacteristic wariness. “Avoid coming too close.” 
“Wasn’t it your idea to look for the brat inside?” Bringer scowled.  
“There’s something powerful inside,” Bluhen was pale. “It has high levels of demonic energy. It’s going to find us.” 
“And leave like cowards?” Bringer scowled. 
“No,” Bluhen hissed. “Retreat. We need more people.”
“We don’t even know if he’s still in there,” Bringer said. “He could be elsewhere and coming here was a waste of time.”       
Bluhen should have told them earlier if he was planning to chicken out at the last minute. Where did the sudden hesitancy come from? Coming here to find Knight was the first objective, but luring out the opposing El Search Party to learn about their intentions was their second one.   
It was cumbersome being the only one in their group to use their brain, let alone have enough sense to question things beyond what was given at the surface level. Bringing the entire party to a demon’s den was suicide if they weren’t certain if Knight was still there. What was stopping demons from moving their teammate to a new location? Bringer was able to form a map to where Knight could have been, but they were distant dots held together by traces of readings picked up by Dynamo. There was a slight delay in those readings and could change at a moment’s notice. 
Electricity generated from within Bringer. Static made his hair stand up at its ends as electricity pulsated through his body. Charging from above, he concentrated the electricity into his fists and punched Abysser. He launched the demon into the air and fired particle shots from Dynamo.   
Abysser fell. He dragged one of his many knives across the side of the cavern to break his fall. Abysser loosened his grip and collapsed, landing on his knees with his arms out to avoid falling face down. He grunted and had blood masked over his eyes. The blue cap he sported was soiled with dried blood and clay.     
Blue flames burst from the seams of Abysser’s clothes, forming into the shape of a demon from the dark. Its eyes flared with the same sharpness in Abysser’s features, hissing and bearing a smile.    
“What are you doing?” Mild panic edged in Bluhen’s voice. 
“I’m ending this,” Bringer grinned. 
“You’re ignoring my signals,” Bluhen lowered his eyelids. “We need to withdraw.” 
“You said you wanted to make this quick,” Bringer growled. 
“You’re making me waste my energy on you,” he said. 
“I didn’t ask you to help me!” Bringer glowered. 
“Is that how you thank your healer?” Bluhen asked. His skin, hair, and face were porcelain white. Wings emerged from the back of his spine, enveloping the rest of his body in an aura and glowed green. 
Bluhen avoided looking at the brawler. Vibrant colors danced around the priest as an array of symbols. The blue fire reached the priest and engulfed him in a sea of smoke and flames. A yellow aura outlined Bluhen’s figure, expanding from within until the forest was blinded by light. When the light faded away, Bluhen was free of bruises and blemishes. He attacked, untouched by Abysser’s flames.   
Bringer yelped when the flames approached him. Cuts and bruises remained on the brawler and his muscles ached when he moved. Heat traveled under his skin, his Nasod Armor demanding more cooling, more energy, more data. Bring had reached his limit. Why was he still injured? He glared at Bluhen.
“Why aren’t you covering me?” Bringer demanded to know.  
“You said you didn’t need my help, Mr. Ancient.” The damned priest replied. 
“We’re in the middle of a fight!” 
“And you don’t know how to treat your healer,” Bluhen said. 
“What do you want me to do?” Bringer asked, “Go down on my knees and say sorry while we get our asses kicked?” 
“Ciel, now!” Timoria summoned a new demon for assistance. 
“Ready when you are,” Abysser pulled out his gunblade. 
The summoned demon materialized from Timoria. Its flames mirrored those to Abysser’s and flared in intense shades of blue. Fire consumed the trees and followed after Bluhen and Bringer despite the two splitting paths. It transformed back into the shape of a demon and raised its claws. 
Bringer compressed the energy around him to generate an electromagnetic field. He jumped onto Dynamo and narrowly stepped to the left to avoid being consumed by the summoned demon’s attack. A dark shadow loomed over the brawler. Bringer saw the summoned demon and called out to Dynamo. Electric currents roared inside his head before something sharp passed through his abdominals. 
Fuck. 
-----------------------------------------------------    
Knight Emperor
The sky cracked open like a winter melon. Fragments fell from the edges of Paradox’s portals, crystal-like borders exploding and exerting gravity outward. Knight caught sight of four tails flickering with an outline of Paradox’s figure and followed after him. Violet chains dangling down the time traveler’s back and appeared to have more functions than the ones Bringer had. Knight rubbed his wrists to where the tails had held him down.
He didn’t understand the time traveler’s intentions. It was a game of cat and mouse with Paradox leading the way. Paradox weaved in and out each room with a wild grin, leaving the portals opening long enough for Knight to slip through before it closed behind him. Knight had no choice but to follow the time traveler, afraid of being left behind in the cavern he was kept captive in. 
“You’re lagging behind,” Paradox spun around to face Knight cutting through a group of soul eaters. The time traveler opened another portal and sang, “you need to be faster if you want to catch up to your friends~”
There was no end to the eternal rooms and narrow corridors inhabited by demons. Small beady eyes trailed behind them, the sound of tails and claws scratching against the cool floor. Knight blocked an attack from a shadow driller charging for him headfirst. Thorns shot out from its spine and curled its body against Knight, changing directions to find its prey. It screamed to Knight slicing the rune sword down from the middle. Jet black blood shot out from the high pressure.    
Knight stabbed a shadow guard attacking from behind. He saw a portal open and shoved the demon aside, reaching one arm through a portal and stumbled over. The demons’ cries faded from behind as the portal sealed itself. It was a deafening sound of shattered glass for each time a portal was formed and sealed by Paradox. 
Blood pounded inside his head. Knight searched for a place to find his footing. He stepped into shallow pools of what he hoped was water. His throat went dry when Paradox was nowhere to be seen. Knight gripped his blade, his eyes wandering in search for the time traveler.  
Finding Paradox left an unsettled feeling at the bottom of his stomach. Knight wasn’t sure of what to take from his brief but poignant interactions with Bringer’s counterpart. Being next to Paradox gave the red knight headaches from how quickly he jumped from one topic to the next. Laughter rang inside Knight’s head from the grand chase he had with the time traveler, pulling himself through yet another portal. Paradox didn’t give him enough time to ask himself where they were going.          
A white face appeared. Paradox hung upside down with long white strands of hair falling over his face. Crawling out from a portal, the time traveler landed on his feet and turned to face Knight. He spun Knight around and electrocuted a wandering demon with spiked energy balls, calling them “Maximum Strike”. Paradox’s movements were fluid, moving his limbs and body ever so slightly to avoid getting hit from the demons. The cavern became a violent shade of pink as he clawed into space with his hands. He grabbed Knight by the collar and shoved the redhead into the portal. 
His vision blurred. Knight plunged through the vortex and felt blood rushing down his face. He stumbled over his steps before he found his footing, planting his foot back and leaning back to catch his breath. 
Laughter rang in the air followed by the sound of Paradox’s chains. Knight dashed headfirst, pressing his way through with his weight against his sword. He swung from the right, his weapon running past his opponent. He chipped Paradox’s shoulder. White particles broke out and separated from the time traveler. Black ink seeped through Paradox’s attire. His figure lit up and shattered into glass shards, replaced by a small child, sclera pitch black and broke out into a wide grin. 
“How could you hurt a child?” Paradox wiped his eyes, “that hurts so much.” 
Knight froze. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the image of a child with unnerving adult-like mannerisms. No longer concerned about maintaining the innocent facade, Paradox hovered with the aid of Dynamo and opened a spatial rift from the fabric of space. Tension built up in the air and Knight was suctioned in by a strong gravitational pull. Knight was lifted off his feet and flew towards the time traveler.  
He was flung straight into a portal and popped out from the bottom of a pit. Knight rose by several feet and gasped. Lying at the bottom of the pit was the Dark Agate he and Paradox fought earlier! Its eyes were closed with its limbs stuck to the side of its body with rigidity. It was asleep, but for how long?   
The time traveler opened another portal. Gravity was distorted and pressed Knight down. Paradox emerged from the portal and flew in to fire spatial orbs from a distance. The orbs exploded when it came into contact, launching Knight upward again. Knight groaned in pain when he came landed beside Paradox, who was humming to himself. 
Knight pressed his face between his arms. Forming his hands into knuckles, he used his legs to rise and lifted his head. Red painted over his palm after placing it over his left shoulder dampened by his own blood. It stung as he grabbed his sword planted into the ground and raised his weapon. Sparks flew from Knight’s fingertips, bursting into flames and blasted Paradox backward. 
Dynamo sought their master. Paradox staggered but landed on top of the six drones with his head disheveled. A portal activated to reveal a rift from space. Starlight and nebulas shone and purple spheres hailed from a separate dimension, crashing at Knight’s feet and causing tremors from the cavern’s insides.        
“I knew you could keep up.” Paradox purred, “Good job. Now do that again and make sure you don’t miss. It’s going to take more than spinning around to catch me.” 
“You’re going to regret asking for this fight!” Knight shouted. 
“Those are big fighting words,” Paradox said. He clutched his chest and feigned a hurt expression. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep~” 
“Armageddon Blade!” 
Knight called forth a massive blade. The great sword was twice his size and consumed a fraction of his vitality, weighing against his shoulder blade and raged with the power of the El. It wasn’t as powerful as it would have been if they were fighting in Elrianode, but Knight knew that he was stronger than before. The Demon Realm had shaped him in many ways and taught him to adapt. His new opponent was going to be an additional experience to help him gain strength and help his friends. He brought the sword back and rushed ahead to tackle Paradox. Knight held up his sword and swung at Paradox.  
“Double Slash!” 
Paradox ordered Dynamo to shield against the blade. The Nasod cracked under the pressure and Knight paved his way in, hitting Paradox and swinging his blade to strike. Paradox’s body distorted from the attack. The time traveler gritted his teeth and forced himself to move after being stunned by Knight’s attack. He stepped to the side and smeared his finger across where he was wounded. Blue light surrounded Paradox and his body was free of cuts and bruises.
That’s right… Paradox had Seal of Time.    
“Vertical Slash!” 
His back protested from being exerted in a fight Knight had not properly rested for. He allowed gravity to guide his blade and blocked an electrical blast. Paradox’s portals popped in and out from different directions. When Knight looked at where he thought Paradox was hiding, he was met with an obnoxious crack from a new portal coming from a new location followed by the time traveler giggling. The process only repeated. 
“Pre-dic-ta-ble~” Paradox sang, “Let me join and call out my attacks too! Reverse Stigma! Moonlight Breaker!” 
Blue light shone between the two of them. Knight raced to slide over to Paradox as the time traveler uploaded coordinates onto his Nasods and shone a beam of light at an uphill angle. A powerful force tore from the ground up and narrowly missed him by an inch. The beam exploded with an ear-piercing noise that threatened to break the fabric of time and space.   
Knight had his sword ready when his body began to tingle. Confused, the red knight held up his arm to see his body fading away. He panicked and turned to demand questions from Paradox when his world disappeared. Knight materialized several feet from behind and was at a loss as to how it was possible. He was back to where he was before!  
He stopped to the sound of a distant groan. The cavern creaked from the walls, ceiling, and the ditch from below. A convulsion erupted at the wake of the Dark Agate. Its hollow cries were the sounds of crushed crystals fractured into millions of pieces. It silenced the smaller demons chattering with its presence and dug its nails against its stony prison. The jarring sound forced Knight to cover his ears. Paradox was unfazed and talked as if they hadn't disrupted the monster’s slumber.   
“Oh no, it’s cranky. Would you look at the time,” Paradox smiled. “Our fun moment together seems to be over.”  
Knight’s eyes widened in horror. The ground beneath him cracked, traveling across the floor and up to the ceiling that barely touched his head. Its hoarse cries echoed inside the musty enclosure. A hand stuck out from the dark pitch, accompanied by the other holding a lantern dangling with a single flame burning in its wake. 
The cavern trembled. Its mouth bared sharp crystals protruding from its insides, sharp edges pointing inward like jagged teeth. The crystal monster dug its nails into the walls as it made the trek up with a clear destination. Born from the mines and the geodes, the cavern was its home. As it reached the top, it brought itself up by its hands and pulled one leg over the next. Its core illuminated violet as the Dark Agate lifted its sword and swung its lantern into view. 
The room went dark.     
----------------------------
Devi
How still the world fell around her. The topsoil of the earth was being torn apart from the inside out, clay hovered around them in a crimson haze. There was hardly time for the dust to settle before being brought up again by Devi raising her spear and Empire pulling her claymore back to block an attack. Oh, how beautiful those eyes were when they glared at her like that. So angry and full of life!    
Blood red skies painted the backdrop of their macabre dance. Both of them knew the rules. Each danced at their own tempo, moving forward by a few steps before stepping back and waiting for the other to make their next move. Their battle moved in progression to the speed of their movements. Devi spun faster, sliding over to Empire and flipping her spear upside down onto its tip.  
The tails formed behind her back spread out and flicked Empire’s kicks away from Devi. Did the Velder captain expect her to fall for the same tricks twice? Empire ran her sword over her head and struck the ground. Eun alerted her about Empire’s presence and lent her strength. Spirit spheres formed around the martial artist and shielded Devi from the impact of the shockwaves delivered by Empire.  
A large vortex of energy formed by dark clouds appeared in front of her. She opened a vacuum that tugged at anything that had energy except for itself. Its strong pull lifted Empire off her feet and suspended her in midair in what felt like an eternity for the captain. Her limbs fell to the side and became limp like a ragdoll.    
It was hard to watch Empire fall. Her body was stunned from below the shoulders and could not move. The pained look on her face was one of desperation, locked into eye contact with Devi and full of anger, frustration. It wasn’t directed at her. When one fought as many monsters and humans as Devi has, it became easier to pick and pull apart the root of people’s emotions. It was self-loathing.
Flame once had those same eyes, shortly after discovering her foolish brother giving himself up to the El. To carry the burden of being an older sibling was a daunting task. Devi did not have experience of that, but she was raised in understanding the sacrifice one should take when protecting one’s family. That was why Aren… 
Fighting Elesis wasn’t the problem. Empire was leading a team that barely managed itself because one of their team members went missing. Demons were unforgiving when outsiders stepped into their territory and Empire’s team should have had more time to adjust to the Demon Realm. She and Eun could sense their heightened stamina shaped by exposure to demonic energy for a period of time. A fight against this team shouldn’t have been this easy. If Empire and her teammates struggled against a group of adventurers with less exposure, how were they supposed to find the Dark El? 
 Pity their fight wasn’t much of a challenge. Devi stretched her neck with a bored sigh and rubbed her knuckles, tracing between them with the bottom of her lips with an absent expression. With a temper like that, Devi was expecting more resistance from Empire. Wasn’t she supposed to be synchronized with the El or something like that? 
Devi stood up and crossed her arms, her eyes moving over to the cavern’s entrance. The thin hairs on the tails she shared with Eun shivered in recognition of the strong demonic energy reeking from the insides. The fall to get past the entrance was unimaginable. She could not see the ground from where she stood. It was a rough fall with much of the walls and floors covered in crystals. They glimmered in response to the unfamiliar power of El radiating from the foreign humans fighting in its proximity. 
The place smelled of demon blood. It made her blood run hot, Devi’s fingers twitched in the excitement in imagining how many demons there must be inside, waiting to be torn to pieces! If Empire was too weak to move, then she was going to make it her personal goal to reach inside and slaughter all the demons that got in her way. One of them was going to know where Knight was. That’s why Empire couldn’t focus on their fight, wasn’t it?   
“Wait!” Empire cried. 
Devi remained in her spot. The depths of the cavern was almost hypnotic, a dark abyss covered in sandstone and crystals.  
“We’re not done yet!” The Velder knight rolled on her stomach, pushing her upper body with her arms and forcing herself back up. Empire panted, “Fight me!”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” Devi mused. 
“No, you!” Empire stood up with her hands and pressed her weight onto claymore as a makeshift cane. “I want to fight you, not Eun!” 
Devi stopped laughing but smiled. That was the Elesis she knew, she looked at the swordswoman with pride. Enough with the formalities and cutting straight to the chase. That’s what made it a pleasure to test her abilities and use the moment to assess each other’s strength behind their resolve. Words were for fools. What was the use of words if one didn’t have the power to fight back? Devi didn’t trust people who talked yet refused to raise a single finger to follow through with sweet promises they will never fulfill. If Empire wanted to salvage what was left of her teammates’ dignity, she would need to fight back. 
Her hair returned back to its original color, glossy black fanned behind her back by the removal of the hairpin that kept her hair up. The tails have shrunken away and disappeared from sight. Devi’s eyes faded from red back into its original amber hue. She could feel Eun’s presence returning back into her body, no longer possessing her body and leaving her with Empire. 
“If that’s what you wish, princess.” Devi giggled, “Don’t look at me like that. I don’t mean foul. Don’t cry if I’m too hard on you~”       
Numerous orbs materialized from the ground up. Devi had them fly around Empire and raised her spear to strike. Battles were harsh teachers, but that was how Aren helped her. Even after being possessed by a demon, he taught her the harsh reality of how being stronger wasn’t enough to catch Ran and demand him to release her brother. Empire should understand more than anyone else in the party what happened when one hesitated in saving one’s family member.  
Spirit energy circuited through her body, a warm and familiar friend she could always rely on in addition to Eun’s help. She conjured flames from the Rakshasa, incinerating everything in her path and watched it burn. It smelled of ashes, marking the skies in orange flames and making their presence known.    
Struck by the destructive fire, Empire hissed to the pain shot up from her arm. One second too late and her body would have been inflicted by Devi’s Rakshas Inferno. She put on her tough soldier face and didn’t let the pain slow her pace. The Velder captain charged with her sword steadied, using her left hand to strike from behind, pulling her weight and knocking the spear from Devi’s hold with her claymore. 
The flames dispersed, losing their warmth and vanished into cold breaths. Devi lost her grip and watched her spear land on the ground, leaving deep scars in the stone floor.  She welcomed Empire with a pained smile. 
“Those weren’t for decoration afterall,” Devi eyed the ornaments stitched into the Velder captain’s clothing and purred, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from Ele’s other self.” 
Her opponent was now defenseless without a weapon within an arm’s reach, yet Empire did not lower her guard. Once again, Devi found herself at the end of the redhead’s claymore. Its sharp end was an unfamiliar one, thinner and more elegant than Flame’s. She was met with cold steel. Empire wasn’t afraid to let her blade get close to her enemy. She was no fool.  
Empire’s efforts were not to be ignored. How hard she tried to put up a leaderly front and tell her teammates to go for the enemy, away from where they could see their leader stumble. Hardened by endless wars combined by stubbornness in refusing to let that facade slip for more than a moment. Flame was guilty of all of that no matter how many times Devi had called her out on it. 
“They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Devi chuckled at an old saying she once heard Dominator said out of exasperation. She thought it was fitting when both of the women she loved had hair the color of the bright red fruit.       
“What?” Empire tensed, “is that a code you use for you and your friends?”
“Hmm?” Devi laughed again, “Why so anxious? Scared of little old me?” 
“Ara isn’t this-” Empire failed to find words. “She isn’t…”   
“Reckless? Vile? A monster?” She chortled, shaking her head with laughter, “you wouldn’t be the first to say that, honey. But… my Elesis isn’t this stiff.”   
Red flashed in Empire’s eyes and protested, “Stiff? What does that have to do with anything?”
“Oh, surely you aren’t thinking, ‘Why is she like this? Why is she crazy? Why is she…’” Devi’s voice drifted away before she redirected her attention to Empire. “But soldiers aren’t supposed to be thinking of trivial things, isn't that right, Ms. Velder Captain~?”
“Don’t call me that!” Empire snapped but her cheeks were pink, “What are you trying to-”
The earth shifted beneath their feet. Plate tectonics split in two, sliding over one another and forming into sharp-edged peaks erupting from the bottom up. Amethysts shot from the floor, bursting from the inside of geodes that were formed between sedimentary and volcanic rocks. 
Devi slid over a geode, careful not to trip over the gravel covered in fine dust. She dragged her foot down and lowered her body, taking a leap and using a rising geode as a springboard to land opposite to Empire. Her spear was lodged between two cliffs meeting at a center point. Devi reached over to grab her spear, eager to regain her balance once she had her hands wrapped around its amber handle once more.
“Ara!” Oz’s voice came from her communicator, “I’m inside with Crusader. Don’t follow us, there’s something living there. It’s-” 
A harsh cry snarled from inside. Its groans shook the walls around them, in sync to the rocking of the cavern. A monster several times larger than the beasts from Sander emerged from a portal.   
Shrouded by the shadows and lighting struck by the suns, the stranger was dressed in purples and pinks draped over a distinctly thin figure. Their face was covered by long white hair reaching down their back. Bright white teeth blanched against sickeningly pale skin. The stranger had a strange assortment of diamond-shaped disks circling around them. Nasods?  
Thin lines cracked against the skies, forming into a circular shape and a portal opening appeared. A new figure fell from the heavens. They made their landing with lack of grace, crash landing on their knees and hands. Devi made out the familiar shape of Rune’s greatsword held inside a scabbard slid onto the stranger’s back. Red eyes came into view as they moved into the light.       
“Elsword?” Empire stumbled over to Knight with arms extended. 
Shit. She was still here. 
Devi twisted her body but could not speak, too stunned by Rune’s mirror image. He was Elsword, but something about him was different. She sensed the heightened power of the El from within the Knight Emperor. It was unlike the living flames inside of Rune amplified by the El’s influence. When Devi looked into the boy’s eyes, it was like he was seeing past her.  
Her eyes flashed between the scenic apocalypse painted by a combination of their fight and that of the newcomers. What was that monster? It exuded similar energy as the Dark El, but more concentrated than the remnants she had encountered in Feita. The man in purple, who was he? What was he doing here with Knight?         
“Sis?” Knight didn’t take his eyes away from her, wiping some tears running down his cheeks. “Is that you?”  
Devi lowered her head. The princess had finally reunited with her brother after painstakingly fighting strangers that looked like the people she knew. She was rewarded for her gallant efforts. What did that leave Devi with? Defeated teammates while Ran was still running amok among demons and imprisoning her brother’s body? Was this the end to her duet with Empire? Knight has returned. There was no other reason to continue the fight. Empire had won.  
“I’m here,” Empire smiled, soft pink shells curling up against her tan complexion. She wrapped her arms around him. “How did you find a way out?”
“I didn’t,” Knight said. “It’s Add-, I mean Paradox. This is all his doing.” 
“Add?” Empire was confused, “but I thought he was fighting Eve. I heard from her just an hour ago when she spoke to me.”
“There’s another one!” Knight tugged her arm, “please. We need to stop him. I don’t know who else he’s going to go after.” 
Although no longer a boy by any means, Devi continued to see him as one. So naive and eager to save everyone involved with him. Knight was no different from Rune, although he lacked a sense of humor, Devi snorted. At least Rune was funny. It was strange to see someone be so similar to their leader, yet dissimilar enough to stop her from getting sentimental about Knight’s entrance.  
“What do you want?” Empire barked when Paradox landed beside them. 
“Man, is that all everyone here asks?” Paradox yawned, “I didn’t think there would be so many of you, but I suppose this will suffice.” 
“If you come any closer, I’ll have to fight you!” Knight shouted. 
“Isn’t that what we were doing before we were rudely interrupted?” Paradox leaned his head back and waved lazily to Empire, “I suppose you must be the red brat’s sister.” 
“You can fight me, but let Knight go!” Empire readied her blade. 
“If you insist~” He sang, “Reverse Stigma!” 
Blue light covered Paradox and Empire, a series of numbers and vectors unwinded from the light. Empire tumbled away from the man shooting out electrical spheres, slashing her claymore into Dynamo and leaving a dent on one of the drones. Paradox ordered Dynamo to arrange themselves into a triangular formation as he inputted the coordinates and angled them upward with intent. A powerful force tore the surrounding space apart. Explosions propelled Empire and launched her into the sky. 
“Elesis!” Knight ran after her.   
Devi thrust her spear into Paradox and stunned him momentarily. She pulled her spear out and sprinted. Devi stuck her spear in the ground for leverage, using it as a springboard to launch herself high and brought her arms out to catch Empire. The additional weight and momentum from Empire’s fall crushed them back into the earth just as the world began to turn on its axis. The monster! 
“Y-you?” Empire opened her eyes. “But why?” 
Devi didn’t answer. 
Paradox planted a pair of Nasods stationed at the base of the monster, setting off explosions and hauling the Dark Agate down to its knees. It fought to break free from a paradigm coordinated by the time traveler to restrain its movements. Black tar oozed from the man’s lower lip, shaken from having his stamina drained from the ongoing fight. His eyes flashed black and released his hold on the monster. It slammed into the ground. 
The cavern began to collapse. Devi shoved her spear between the Dark Agate’s mouth and used the last of her energy to summon an Energy Wave to push it out. She raised Empire with one leg and pushed herself to keep going. Devi could feel her stamina being drained away. At least… Empire got to see Knight and was safe. She struggled to stay awake and closed her eyes as the cavern’s entrance was sealed shut by the destruction from all sides.   
---------------------------- 
Author Notes: Sorry for taking so long to update. It’s been a rough month for me with work and classes going online. Thank you @dezimaton for always beta-reading my stuff and feeding me ideas when I ramble meme about my fanfics. Credit goes to them for giving me wonderful ideas for the Paradox fight and by wonderful, I mean awful ideas on how to torment Knight. 
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show me your rosettes, baby (g)
summary: The world tour is over and the Bangtan Boys finally get their well-deserved break. When Namjoon suddenly can’t find Jimin anywhere, things take an unexpected and pretty unbelievable turn. “Kim Namjoon!” “Hyung. How common is it for people to turn into cats?” word count: 2k note: yay! Surprise! hope you like this. let me know. ✨
masterlist | moodboard masterlist
[ prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven ]
When his door closes, Namjoon stills. He is looking at an empty apartment, quiet now where laughter had been a few seconds ago. He still feels it in his body, the joy that always stays behind when Jackson leaves.
Namjoon smiles, thinking about what to do next when he receives a text from Min Suga.
> I’ll bring takeout for lunch. I’m taking a break.
“Okay,” he texts back.
What was I doing before Jackson came? Oh right, I fed Jimin. And had breakfast. That’s still not cleaned up. Namjoon sighs once, thinking about the messy kitchen, then sighs a second time, because he knows there’s no one else to clean it up other than himself, and a third time just because he’s feeling dramatic. When he looks down, Jimin is looking at him with something like mirth in his eyes, seeming almost - mischievous. Namjoon realizes that everything would look a lot cleaner if Jimin was a person instead of a cat right now. Heck.
“Don’t do that,” Namjoon warns, half-amused, and puts the cat down on the sofa so that the little one can nap or do whatever he wants to do. But Jimin mewls as soon as Namjoon’s big fingers let go of him and no matter what the cat magazines Namjoon has read explain in great detail, about not letting the cat control him, Namjoon wants to accommodate Jimin as best as he can. He supposes the cat magazines don’t know much about cats that are actually your little brother. Jimin is an exception. (God knows how many exceptions the world grants Park Jimin. Namjoon smiles. Jimin has always been special that way.)
“What is it? You wanna help clean up the mess you made?”
Jimin stands upon the billowy sofa cushions and saunters closer to his hyung before jumping on his leg with a squeak, pulling himself up by the sheer strength of his hind legs (which is not much but enough) and thanks to the steady grip of his claws in the jeans material (that’s more like it).
“Shit, Jiminie,” Namjoon curses when the claws prick his thigh, almost like sharp toothpicks against his sensitive skin. As a way of freeing himself, he lifts the cat up by its scruff. Jimin’s body goes lax in the careful hold and that’s decidedly better. It’s a little stupid (impractical) that he can’t talk, that he is dependent on Namjoon’s probably horrible interpretation of the little mewls and meows he makes. However, as bad as Namjoon thinks he is at cat language, he thinks he kind of understands when Jimin wriggles and meows when they walk past the terrace doors that lead outside and straight into the backyard.
“You wanna run a little?”
Jimin is desperate to jump out of the firm grip as soon as Namjoon touches the door handle. All the excitement almost makes him fall past the safe space of Namjoon’s hands and when Namjoon grabs the petite body, he feels like he’s probably crushing Jimin. But when they are outside, Jimin just jumps, not in any way as grateful as any cat in the magnitude of cat food commercials Namjoon has seen in his lifetime. It’s just a jump, a fall, and a rough landing. Jimin rolls off into the grass. And then, he rushes off.
Crap, has he seen a mouse? When Namjoon follows Jimin into the low shrubs and the soft undergrowth, he hears a little growl. To be honest, Jimin is tiny, tinier even than some of the flowers Tae, Seokjin and Namjoon himself have planted here and while it’s their own backyard that isn’t accessible from the outside and where Jimin can’t realistically disappear, Namjoon still worries about losing Jimin. It’s irrational. He knows it. Maybe Jackson was right. They are my kids. And surely at least one of those films with shrunken characters fighting their way through carpet-jungles and backyard-arenas must be at least a little true, right? Surely the world looks different to Jimin now and surely Namjoon is the big soft giant that should protect the cat well. A thought crosses his mind - what if Jimin doesn’t need a protector and would rather be on his own? What if his escape outside was to get away from the human who certainly isn’t a leopard to learn from? Isn’t the baby stage of cats all about learning from the mother? What if the cub wants to be in the wilderness, and learn to fit in there, like he naturally would? What if- ?
Namjoon hears some thudding and when he sticks his head closer to where he thinks Jimin is, he sees earth flying around. Is he digging? Is he hunting? When he notices that some of the earth seems darker than the rest, almost like it’s wet, Namjoon suddenly draws back. Oh. Oh. Okay.
His cheeks go red as he goes a few steps back, just sitting on the grass. He lies down, trying to swallow down his embarrassment about the realization that he had just followed his desperate little dongsaeng who had just needed to relieve himself, and had even bothered him like a creep. Wow, Namjoon, way to go. You’re the best hyung for sure.
When he doesn’t know what to do, he just stares at the clouds. Maybe Jimin won’t talk to him for a little while, as usual when he’s annoyed, maybe Jimin would- A snout presses into his cheek and there’s a small lick following. It feels like a reassurance. When he turns his face, Jimin stands right in front of him, dirt sticking to his fur in clumpy little bits as if he’d rolled around in it. Looking at him like this, Namjoon feels like this is a precious moment. The embarrassment fades away and a rush of light joy swells in Namjoon’s chest. It feels like Jimin can finally just play in the backyard. Like the child he couldn’t be for too long, subdued in dance studios and classrooms.
“Go play,” he says softly and takes the headbutt that follows as a thank you. Or something similar. Maybe he should stop being so sentimental and dramatic. Maybe he shouldn’t interpret so much into what Jimin does because obviously, Jimin doesn’t even listen to his own name when he’s a cat. Maybe- when new sounds travel through the backyard, something other than the regular chirping of the birds that Taehyung and Hoseok love so much and the whispering of the trees that Namjoon admires, Namjoon sits up.
A few feet from him, Jimin is chasing something through the high grass. Every time he jumps, he lets out an excited squeal that actually sounds a little like human Jimin’s squeals when Jungkook or Hoseok tickle him. Namjoon watches the little leopard play with whatever he’s chasing and he giggles, phone on video mode when Jimin sticks his butt in the air to catch the little thing that had jumped away. Inadvertently, his thoughts go back to that little ladybug that had visited them during breakfast.
When Jimin finally trots towards Namjoon, carrying his prey in his snout like a trophy, Namjoon films him. The video will be titled “Jimin’s First Catch In The Backyard” and definitely go into the leather-bound Bangtan family album, where all their most beautiful moments together were being collected.
“What is it, Jimin-ah?”
The little animal plops into his open hand with a wet little plop. It’s a small frog, green and chewed. Ew. Namjoon wants to be proud, really, but he can’t keep the disgust out of his face even if Jimin looks at him expectantly, tail flicking. If it had been a rodent, fine. A bird. Maybe fine. But this frog? No.
“Poor little frog,” Namjoon whispers, more to himself than to Jimin. He jumps when suddenly, someone starts clapping behind him. Jimin’s ears react immediately and turn toward the sound. His little spotted body stiffens, then he lunges, snatching the frog out of Namjoon’s hands and runs towards the new person.
“Good job, baby,” Yoongi’s deep voice praises Jimin and Namjoon sees the younger rubbing himself against Yoongi’s hand. “You caught a frog! Wow, you must have run so fast.”
Jimin preens under the praise and that’s just more proof for how this creature is the same person, cat or not. Attention and praise are Jimin’s love languages and if you add physical affection to the mix, he’ll explode with love. Yoongi easily swoops the cat up in his arms, cradling him against his chest. Namjoon watches how the elder doesn’t even blink at Jimin still holding his frog between his jaws. Will he let him take it inside? Namjoon hopes Yoongi won’t. He sighs. He might have to use the leader card today.
“How long have you been there, hyung?”
“Just a few minutes. Let’s eat.”
Namjoon clears his throat when Yoongi turns to walk toward the house, gently rubbing Jimin’s ears.
“The frog stays outside.”
Yoongi turns with a frown that’s actually right on the edge between confused and indignant.
“What do you mean? Jiminie caught it. It’s his.”
“It stays outside. He can play with it later, but it won’t come into the house.”
“Namjoon, let him have it. I’m your hyung, listen to me.”
“I’m your leader.”
They stare at each other, ignoring Jimin who chews loudly, ears twitching and paws holding his catch, somehow ignorant of the moment.
“If he takes it into the house right now, he’ll always bring dead prey into the house. I don’t want that.”
“I’ll clean it up.”
“No.”
Yoongi shrugs, probably coming to the conclusion that it’s not worth spending so much energy on this argument when his break isn’t that long and the food is getting cold.
“Okay. Then hold him. I’ll be back in a sec.”
Namjoon takes Jimin and watches his hyung walk into the house. The temptation to take that yucky frog away from his dongsaeng is great. Jimin has been busy chewing the poor little animal apart - one of its legs hangs dangling from what looks like sinew and the another is simply not recognizable anymore. From Namjoon’s perspective, he can’t see the underside, but he does feel the (cold and slimy) entrails sticking out of a hole in the frog’s side and touching his index finger. If he could, Namjoon would get rid of it as soon as possible. On the other hand, Namjoon doesn’t want to touch it. He wonders what Yoongi will do. Maybe he’ll bring paper tissues to pick it up. Instead, Yoongi returns with a bite-sized cut piece of chicken.
“Is that raw?”
“You wanna feed him cooked chicken? Ever seen a leopard in the wild with a personal chef? It’s natural to eat it like this.”
There’s no denying that the trade doesn’t work even if Jimin seems hesitant to let go of his prized kill at first. He growls a little when Yoongi grabs the frog (without fussing, as Namjoon knows he himself would have) but Jimin’s growl sounds like a chirp almost. Once again, Namjoon is reminded of how young the leopard cub seems to be, however the magic makes that work in combination with Jimin. After the first couple sniffs, their dongsaeng gives in, whiskers shaking when he sniffs the rosy meat. Yoongi puts the frog somewhere on the grass (by the side, where no one will accidentally step on it, thank God) and scratches Jimin’s neck when he starts chewing the chicken as if he’s never even cared about his prey. Namjoon hopes, really hopes that his memory isn’t that short. Or that it will expand with time, at least. If they want to train Jimin (and they will have to to get him potty-trained), they will need him to not only listen to his name, but follow commands. Or actually understand us.
“All good now?”
Namjoon nods.
“All good.”
“Okay, then let’s eat. I’ve got news to tell you.”
“Mhm. I’ve got news too.”
They enter the house, and Yoongi walks into the kitchen.
“Was Jackson here?”
“Uh, yeah. I made the mess, though.”
“Oh, I had no doubt about that. It looks like a grenade exploded here. I just wanted to give him something. Guess I’ll have to send it then.”
“I’m sure we’ll see him again soon.”
masterlist | moodboard masterlist
[ prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven ]
tags: @xmagicxshopx, @taeshuworld, @justanemptydream, @hoodmeup, @gingerpeachtae
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myselfinserts · 4 years
Note
“The most inflated egos are often the most fragile.“
Themusic blasted from the building, the lights bright and bouncing from window towindow. In a normal city, in a normal neighborhood, this wouldn't be unusualfor a night club. But in this decrepit looking building, in the middle ofdowntown Nesta City, it was far out of place. Officially, this building hadshut down operation nearly fifteen years ago. It used to be known as the MadBox. And yet, here it stood now. Living under a new name.
"Thorn'sGarden," Ena said slowly, letting the words dance on her tongue. Theyweren't too unpleasant. "So remind me why we're coming here tonight,Harper?"
Harperlet out a playful snicker, offering their arm to her. "You wanna rule theworld? You gotta know which heads to roll and which ones to let talk. I'maintroduce ya to the head of the newest crime family to hit the Elspieunderground in a while. She's got quite the ego, but I think you'll find herthe most interesting plaything."
"Thatso?" Ena smirked. "The most inflated egos are often the mostfragile."
"Thatthey are. Let's go shatter some, shall we?"
Ena took their arm and they made their way inside. The music was thunderous, causing their bodies to vibrate slightly as they walked. Harper looked right at home with their torn leggings and combat boots. Their attire was very similar to that of the dancers on the floor. Ena stood out like a pastel cupcake in a steak house, with her soft pink dress with the embroidered cats on the hem of the skirt. They drew a lot of attention together. 
But that was fine. It was what they were going for. 
Harper escorted Ena to the back, the dancers parting like the sea as they marched forward. There was a bouncer there, standing nearly nine feet tall, dressed in a pitch black suit covered in red rose vines. He seemed tense, his lips pressed tightly together as he eyed the room. Ena found it rather amusing. 
“Hey there, Shrub,” Harper cooed. “Thorn in?”
Shrub looked down at them, not moving from in front of the door. “Do you have an appointment, Alberi?”
Harper shook their head. “Nah, but I don’t need one. Not if she wants me to tell on her to my daddy. I’m sure Inkwell would love the chance to shut down her operation. He’s getting bored at Geode HQ. Desk work, amiright?”
Shrub raised an eyebrow, lifting a hand to his ear and whispering something unintelligible. Ena removed herself from Harper’s arm, taking a step forward and putting her hands on the man’s jacket. 
“Tacky pattern,” she mused. “But you make it work. Though I think you’d look better if the flowers were pink.” Ena looked at Harper, giving a slight pout. “Harper?”
“Say no more.” Harper reached out, putting a hand on the jacket and focusing. Slowly, the deep, blood red of the roses began to fade into a delicate pink, Soft, with a slight lavender shine in the blue spotlights. Shrub looked at his suit, his jaw and shoulders relaxing. He actually managed a smile.
“Nice,” he said. “My favorite color.”
Ena smiled. “It is good, isn’t it?”
“Few people appreciate it around here these days. You’re a’ight kid. ” He stepped aside, slowly opening the door. “Thorn says to come in. She’s in The Box.”
“Thanks doll, you’re a peach.” Harper offered their arm again, and once Ena took hold, lead her inside. 
And inside was a shock. 
Up a short flight of stairs lead to an arena, filled with people surrounding a cage where two fighters were dressed in hero costumes, posing as the announcer was presenting them. Across from where they’d come in, up high and providing a perfect viewpoint of the whole area was a private room, the outside of which were covered in rose vines.
Slowly they made their way up to the box, nearly taken aback when they entered and found it resembling a treasure trove. Precious gemstones, jewelry, bars of gold and strings of pears. Chalices and fine pottery. A throne in the center, near the window of the box, with two smaller ones on either side. There were two men there, dressed in the same tacky patterned suit as Shrub outside. One was feeding gourmet chocolates to someone sitting in the throne, while the other prepared three cups of coffee at a nearby table. 
“Hey Thorn,” Harper spat. “Ain’t this a little overkill?”
Ena nodded in agreement. “A bit pretentious, isn’t it?”
A soft blue hand waved, and the men in suits left. Ena and Harper watched as a woman rose from the seat, her long, black halter dress trailing behind her. Her lavender hair had a long braid in it, while the rest was cut relatively shorter. She had horns, two of them, each a different size. Her eyes were red, the same shade as her makeup. Iconic Elspie ears, and skin a soft powder blue. She wore a red zip up hoodie, the shoulder on one side hanging off, revealing thorny vine tattoos all over her arm. 
“Harper,” she greeted gently, opening her arms. “Welcome to my little home away from home. It’s been a while.”
Harper smiled, walking up and accepting the embrace. “Good to see you, Thorn.”
Thorn looked over at Ena as they pulled away, looking her over. “And who is your pretty pink pal?”
“This is Ena. I’m her right hand.”
Ena smiled, walking up and holding out her hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you,” Thorn said, accepting the handshake. “I’m Thorn. The Head Honcho of ‘The Garden of Sinners’ family. So.” She looked between them, batting her eyes lightly. “What brings my friend’s boss here to my Garden?”
“Harper said I needed to learn which heads to roll and which to let talk.”
“So you came to me for information?”
“I think you misunderstand,” Harper snickered. “She’s gonna decide if your head talks or rolls.”
“...I see.” Thorn’s cheery demeanor waned, the vines on the outside of the box covering the window. “Then I suppose a little privacy is in order.” 
Ena watched the plants carefully. “Interesting quirk. Plant control?”
Thorn shook her head. “Not exactly. My family specializes in occlumency and legilimency quirks. My vines make it so no one can hear us, and I can take information I want if someone gets wrapped up in them since the thorns have a truth serum like toxin. It’s handy when I want to crush someone and not hear the screams, but it’s only truly good for defense in combat.”
“Really?” Ena’s voice went low. “Quirks that let you mask or extract information, but you’re not related to Uncle Ceri. You must be a Maddox then.”
Thorn’s face went violet in rage and she shot a glare at Harper. “Did you tell her?”
“Didn’t have to,” Harper said. “Your uncle kinda screwed over her family pretty bad before she was even born. Ena’s got connections and holds one hell of a grudge. If I hadn’t brought her to you first, she’d have found you eventually.”
“Well if she wants to take it out on me because she thinks it’ll help her get to Uncle Boni-shitface, she’ll be mighty disappointed.” Thorn turned away, walking over to pick up one of the coffees. “I got disowned for trying to break in and kill him, and now he’s been transferred somewhere I can’t reach. The bastard put our family through hell and made growing up very, very difficult even after he was arrested. I seem to be the only Maddox that thinks this is a bad thing.”
“So you’re disowned, and have a lot of power in the underground.” Ena smirked. “What do you plan to do with it?”
“Right now I’m just trying to survive with the little empire I’m building for myself.”
Ena followed her, putting a gentle hand on her bare shoulder. “Survival is a very sad baseline for a mobster, don’t you think?” 
Thorn looked at her, taken aback slightly. “What?”
“Wouldn’t you rather be able to do more than survive? Wouldn’t you prefer to live? Truly live in the light?” She headed over to the throne, fingers dancing along the gold plating and velvet fabrics. “I’ll admit, you being related to people on my hit list is a little complicated. But...” She turned around, skirt giving a slight twirl. “I like your rose aesthetic. And I think that truth serum could come in handy.”
“And what exactly is it you’d do with it?”
Harper sat on the arm of the throne, lightly taking Ena’s hand as she sat down. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Boniface Maddox had an entire cabinet and resources that are still in motion to this day,” Ena explained. “In order to do what I need to do to achieve my goal, I need allies I can trust.”
“That so?” Thorn went over to the window, leaning on it as she watched Ena and Harper carefully. “And what is it you plan to do? What goal do you have?”
“That’s for me to know, and for you to decide if you want to find out.”
“Harper?”
Harper chuckled. “You heard Ena. If she decides your head rolls, I’m the one to make it so.” Their face softened. “We’ve been friends for years. So what do you say, Thorn?”
She didn’t answer right away, taking a sip of her coffee with a pondering look. 
“Thorn?” Ena tilted her head. “Anything to say?”
“...I suppose this means I lost the game, then?” Thorn smiled. “Strange. I haven’t lost in a long time.”
Ena rolled her eyes. “Please. You’re not even a player.” 
“I’ve been playing this game far longer than you, miss. A little respect would be nice.”
“I don’t respect people who don’t introduce themselves with a play-name.” 
Thorn raised an eyebrow. “A play-name?”
“Yes,” Ena said. “You go by Thorn in your little garden, but it wasn’t a name you picked because you liked it. You took it because you were called that by others without liking it. I noticed how you winced when I said it. But never when Harper did. So either you only like it when certain people call you that, or...” Her voice softened. “That’s the name you want to abandon, but can’t.”
The coffee cup fell to the floor, and Thorn stepped forward, back straight and face stern. Harper tensed, ready to pounce, but Ena gave them a soothing squeeze of the hand. Thorn stopped right in front of her. 
“...It’s hard to abandon a name that everyone thinks suits you,” she muttered. “Thorn is what everyone called me because of my quirk. I hate it. Harper normally never calls me that. But you being here, we resulted to the default. I trust them. Can I trust you?”
Ena shrugged. “I suppose you’ll have to fine out.” She motioned to the throne to her left. “Let me properly introduce myself. I’m Ena Aizawa, but you can just call me Ena. Or Milady. Either work for me.”
Thorn paused for a moment before settling into the smaller throne. “My legal name is one I don’t want anything to do with. In a professional setting when others are around, you call me Thorn. But alone like this, just me and you and Harper? Please, call me Tiffany. Tiffany Arbor.” She slowly started to relax. “Will that suffice?”
“I think so.” Ena threw her a wink. “Welcome to the team, Tiffany.”
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serrj215 · 5 years
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From the Trees.
He was fascinated by how the cloaked figure moved carefully thorough the forest. She didn’t move like the others of her kind.  
She did not stalk like the ones that brought bows. Nor tromp thought the brush like the ones that brought axes. Humans thought that the woods belonged to them. That they could take whatever they wanted, chop down whatever they wanted, hunt whatever they wanted.  
If respected the forest would provide almost everything one needs. It was the great mother, the only one he had left now. She however moved cautiously, but not timidly.  Each step was deliberate not to disturb the growth.  He had never seen someone look so out of place yet at home in the forest.  
Her skin was the color of wood ash and her hair a lavender like the flowers of the west hills.  A blue hooded cloak was around her shoulders in rain or shine.  Those eyes he would only catch fleeting glimpses were a shade of purple he had never seen before.  
He knew he should keep his distance. The green of his skin and the brown of his clothes kept him well hidden in the canopy of the trees.  He could follow her from limb to limb trunk to trunk without rustling a leaf.  But something about her kept drawing him dangerously close.
Each day she would come to the tree line and pick another direction to wonder. Stopping only to collect something.  Moss, Bark, leaves and berries she would pick them from the forest floor to examine, sometimes pulling out a small book full of scribbles and hand drawn pictures to either compare or add her new discovery.  The rare times she had to take something from a living plant she would bow her head and then pour some water from a leather bladder on its roots.  An apology, a payment for its fruit this would be unheard of among humans.  
Yet she was human.  She smelled human, different but definitely human.
One day she headed northeast and found the river.  She followed it to the source, the great cliffs that bordered the forest to the north.  The water fell from the spire of granite to feed the river and the small rock pools near the base of the cliffs.  There the trees were sparse, and he had few places to hide.  She walked onto a flat rock that cut into the water.  He watched her drop to her knees and fill her water bladder form the river drink and fill it again.  The sun was quite warm that day.  
She looked around as if deciding where to explore next.  Her shoulders slumped.  She pulled her hood down and she started to take off her boots.  At first, he though the cloaked figure was going to jump into the river, but instead she lowered her feet into the cool water.  She sat on the edge and leaned back laying on the stone letting the water cool and the sun warm her.  
It was too big a risk, there was too much open, there was nothing but a few boulders and juts of rock between the river and the tree line.  Then the wind shifted, and the cool breeze carried her scent right into his nose and with it all sense of caution.
The green man couldn’t let the chance slip by.  He dropped from trees to the forest floor landing like a cat and just as silent. He stayed low moving from shrubs the boulders to outcrops anything to obscure him but still get closer to her.  He watched her from behind a large rock only about 10 feet away.  
"Hello"  
The green one though he had been spotted he crouched lower his legs ready to launch him back to the trees, until he saw that the woman was not talking to him but a small lizard that had crawled onto her stomach.  
"Is this your rock?" She asked. "Please forgive me I am just borrowing if for a moment to rest."  
The lizards head jerked back and forth and up and down as they are habit to do.  
He had seen woman from the villages shriek and scream flail and run anytime a creature got near them. It didn’t matter how innocuous they would act as if the small spider or dragonfly was moments from eating them whole.  This one was had no objections to letting the small creature sun himself on her. 
For a while they both were as motionless as the rocks.  Yet his heart was thundering in his ears almost drowning out the rush of the river.  He watched her taking in all the details that he only got slivers of from the trees.  With her hood down and her cloak off her shoulders she was a slip of a woman.  He legs were long and captivating. She was like a yew tree delicate but so strong. “I am sure you know this forest well. I could use a guide.” She said eyes closed to the sky.  At first, he thought that she was speaking to the lizard again. Until she turned her head and looked at his direction. His first real look at those eyes.  
“You have been following me for weeks, if you were going to hurt me you would have done so by now. I am not going to hurt you. “
The green one stood slowly revealing himself over the rock. The woman had encouraged the lizard onto her hand and gently placed it on the stone next to her.  She sat up her eyes running up and down over him.  
“Can you speak?  What do they call you?”  She said sitting up her feet still dangling in the river.
He swallowed hard.  Trying to remember how to make words.  He had not spoken to anyone for so long.  There was no need too.  The people of the village had nothing to say to him, other then “Stop thief!” or “Demon!” or “Monster!”  He opened his mouth a few times trying to make the sounds.  
“It is alright” She held up her hand. “The water is quite refreshing, perhaps a drink?”   
“Beast!” finally croaked out of his mouth.  “I am called Beast” Beast stood there looking at her, her face showed little expression. Then there was the fairest trace of a smile, and he was hit with a thunderbolt.  “Hello Beast, my name is Raven”  
I do hope that the mod of @bbraeweek19 can forgive a late submission. If its any consolation I did start this story in January of 2018.  While watching one of @shock777 speed paints.  It was actually an early draft of Raven from her fantasy AU https://shock777.tumblr.com/post/183816172638/remember-my-teen-titans-fantasy-au-from-like-5  Witch has been prominent for this years event.  (I really do love the designs btw) I have not written fantasy before, but there was so much art, and I started watching Seven Deadly sins on Netflix so this came together.  
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Warriors: Blossoms in the Tide: Into the Wild: Chapter 5
Two days… it had been two days since Princess’ entire world had turned upside down. She kept going back to that night, that dawn, searching every second she could remember in a desperate hope for a clue that Rusty may have actually made it. But how could he have? Three clan cats bearing down on him and he hadn’t even star-
“Hey, there!” a cheerful voice broke through the thought loop she had been caught in. Realizing she had been staring at her paws for only the gods knew how long, the calico was surprised to find a fish in front of her now. She turned her eyes upward, making eye contact with Shadepaw. Princess was eternally grateful for this molly; at times, it felt like Shadepaw was the only cat who genuinely cared- not tolerated, but cared- when she talked about Rusty. Shadepaw had tried to help her come up with situations where Rusty had made it through, brought her food, participated in an activity the clans called sharing tongues with her, and just seemed generally determined to get Princess back into good spirits.
“Hey, Shadepaw,” she greeted in a much more subdued tone. As grateful as she was, she wasn’t sure the molly’s efforts were working.
Shadepaw’s expression faltered for a moment, seeming more sympathetic before bringing back her cheeriness in full force. “Well, scooch over; this fish is for us to share!” she squealed while moving around to cuddle with Princess in the nest. Princess made room for her but couldn’t help the awkward flush that came over her skin at the apprentice’s closeness.
Shadepaw had just drawn the fish forward and had her mouth open to start her daily ramble about her training when another cat came into the den. The scent wasn’t Mudfur’s, so it got their attention quickly. Instead, it was the brilliant golden tabby who had been named deputy; what was her name again? Leopard-something?
“Leopardfur!” Shadepaw helpfully chirped. “Were you looking for Mudfur? He wasn’t here when I came in,” she started going on. Sensing one of Shadepaw’s talkative moments, Leopardfur waved her tail for silence.
“Thank you, Shadepaw, but I am actually here to talk to your new friend.” This caught Princess’ attention; outside of Shadepaw and Mudfur, no one had talked to her since the night Oakwatcher died. The long legged molly- or, at least, she was long legged in comparison to most of the cats in Riverclan, according to Shadepaw- couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous.
The dark grey cat cuddling her just cast a wide eyed glance her way. Leopardfur didn’t leave either of them with time to respond before turning back to the entrance with a flick of her tail. “Come on,” she meowed, her tone pleasant, “we’re going for a walk.”
Shadepaw had told Princess about clan roles and clan life; she knew what Leopardfur’s new position meant. She didn’t really want to go with this molly who was basically a stranger, but did she really have a choice?
“Okay,” Princess agreed uncertainly as she padded after the older molly. The afternoon sunlight was harsh. Princess had barely left Mudfur’s den since Leopardfur received her promotion and she certainly hadn’t been back to the main camp since that night. She froze, momentarily overwhelmed by just how busy it was. Cats were going to and fro, a couple were basking in the sun’s rays, and Mudfur was sniffing and running a paw along the belly of a very pregnant molly.
A golden tail tip harshly flicked against Princess’s nose, causing the housecat to flinch back. “Pay attention and keep up, please,” the deputy meowed, her tone showing her impatience. Now that she had the young molly's attention, Leopardfur briskly walked toward the camp entrance.
“Where are we going?” Princess asked as she exited the reed tunnel. To her surprise, Leopardfur was already halfway across the small stream surrounding the camp. She picked up the pace, almost stumbling over her paws in her haste to follow the deputy.
“Around,” the pretty golden tabby answered vaguely. Her pale yellow eyes held a spark of amusement as Princess gracelessly hurried her swim across the tiny channel. “When a Riverclan cat loses someone close to them, they're usually only placed on patrols. It lets them work while being surrounded by others, leaving them able to focus on their feelings while there are others to aid in their duties. Also, we find long walks tend to help stir other emotions in a cat so they can feel something other than their grief,” Leopardfur explained when Princess had reached the shore.
Without warning, Leopardfur took off at a light run. “Keep up!” she reminded. It took Princess a moment, but as was running as soon as her mind registered the tabby's words.
She was smaller than the clan cat. Her lanky legs brought her to the deputy's shoulder but she was a twig compared to Leopardfur's muscle. So it was a surprise to them both when Princess easily caught up to the wild cat. They kept pace for a time, shoulder to shoulder as they ran. Laying in a nest for two days definitely hadn't done the little calico any favors. She had never been able to run as long as her brother, who had quite easily been the fastest cat she knew, but she was fairly certain running long distances hadn't been this hard before.
As Princess tired, Leopardfur pulled ahead. By the time Princess had caught up, Leopardfur was crouching in front of a wooden fence, her breaths heavy as she rested. The calico crouched beside her, panting as she caught her breath.
The fence wasn't like the one that had been around her housefolk's garden. This one had many open gaps; a twoleg could easily step over or slip under it. On the other side were strange animals. Some were puffy and white, like clouds, with black legs, hooves, and faces. Others were even taller than the living clouds; they were easily the biggest animals Princess had ever seen. They had huge, powerful hooves, legs more muscular than her entire body, wispy tails, and oddly long faces. They even had what appeared to be a second tail sprouting from their necks!
“Leopardfur, what are those?” she whispered, both amazed and intimidated. She was unable to pull her wide green eyes away from the oddities before her as they contentedly munched on grass.
“The white ones are called sheep and the tall ones are called horses,” the deputy told her, her whiskers twitching as she watched the younger cats awed staring. “They're harmless enough; as long as they aren't spooked, they don't even care for our presence. That means no fast or sudden movements and no loud noises,” she instructed, satisfied when she received a nod.
Princess was unable to look away until she noticed Leopardfur was getting up. The golden molly had stood and was walking under the fence and into the pasture! “Leopardfur!” she whisper yelled. “I don't think w-” she started before stopping; it was clear the deputy wasn't listening.
Hesitating, Princess looked around. What should she do? Leopardfur had said they were harmless as long as you were careful but all it took was one stomp and she'd be dead! Still, she had seemed so confident going in…
With some deep breaths, Princess steeled her courage and slid under the fence. She was creeping along slowly, her belly close to the ground when she heard a bleating noise that was much higher pitched than that of the sheep. She looked around cautiously for the source and found an odd little creature. It looked like a sheep kit with a thin, light layer of woolly cloud around it.
It made the bleating noise again before coming over and bending down to give her a sniff. She sniffed at it in turn. When their noses briefly touched, it reared back with an abrupt bleat. Princess flattened herself to the ground, convinced that she was going to be trampled, only to find that the little one was still staring at her curiously. There was a harsh bleat from a nearby sheep, resulting in the baby running to its side, bleating almost nonstop and bucking excitedly.
Her nerves mostly settled, Princess continued slinking through the large animals. When she reached the other side of the fence, Leopardfur was waiting for her. The deputy had this odd neutral smile on her face. “You took a bit long,” she meowed.
“This thing that looked like a weird sheep was curious about me,” she meowed softly as she shuffled her paws.
“Lambs,” Leopardfur meowed as she rose to her paws and began walking away from the pasture. “They're curious just like the kits of every kind. We try not to go through the pasture unless needed; however, it does well for teaching patience and tolerance to younger cats,” she continued to explain as they walked.
Princess looked around as they went. A short distance from the pasture, blocked from the sight of the Riverclan camp by the trees, streams, and shrubbery, was a fair sized twoleg home. "You live so close to housefolk?” she asked as the earth underpaw started becoming steeper, heading uphill.
“They twolegs leave us be and they never seem to have a problem with us when we cross the pasture. We think they like us,” Leopardfur meowed. “Still, better to be cautious. After all, they don’t have any kittypets so they mustn’t like cats too much,” she muttered. The golden tabby steered them closer to the river as the land began to rise away from it. The further the land rose away from the water, the more a loud crashing filled Princess’s ear.
The land kept rising and the crashing kept getting louder. She had no idea how high they were now and Leopardfur was keeping her distance from the edge. Where the river was beneath them resulted in a huge gap in front of them; it was like a violent tear in the earth. On the other side of the gap was the flattest land Princess had ever seen. Many places merely held the springy moorland grass; other spots were covered in vast swaths of low growing shrubs and vines.
The young tortoiseshell could feel her curiosity growing. Keeping herself low, she carefully crept close to the edge and stuck her neck out so she could see down below. She felt like her stomach was going to drop through the earth. The river- beautiful and swirling at a speed that resulted in white foam on the surface- was so far beneath her that it looked tiny. She looked upstream and saw a large waterfall, stunning in its own right.
She slowly backed away to find Leopardfur had come back closer to her. “I wouldn’t advise walking so close to the edge,” she meowed, seemingly a bit annoyed at the kittypet’s lack of self preservation. She looked across the gap and meowed, “That’s Windclan’s territory.”
Princess’s head whipped back to the moorland in disbelief. She looked back toward Thunderclan territory; the stream that Rusty had pushed her in branched off at the bottom of the moorland. “We were that close?” she whispered. Maybe her hope hadn't been that far fetched? She didn't know how far the stream had carried her, after all.
She turned to Leopardfur almost frantically, only to be met with the deputy shaking her head. “Don't get your hopes up,” she warned.
“But he could have made it!” the calico argued, painfully aware of how close she sounded like she was begging. But she had to try. Maybe Rusty had reached Windclan; maybe she could find him!
“And if he isn't in Windclan, what will you do?” Leopardfur challenged with a hiss. Despite her hiss, she seemed more stern than outright angry. “It won't make the hope go away, kittypet. Anything could have happened to him after you were swept by the current. Maybe he ran to Windclan; he could have also ran in the direction of Shadowclan,” she pointed out. “And that's assuming he got away in the first place; there's always the possibility that he got caught. Maybe he got exceptionally lucky and was able to run back to his twolegs.”
“But he's my brother!” Princess insisted, standing as tall as she could. “I have to check!” she insisted as she started to lightly hiss back.
“I never said you didn't. You just can't check now,” the deputy elaborated. She then went on to mumble something about young cats being ‘so argumentative’ as she lashed her tail.
“Why can't I? Windclan territory is right there! There must be some way to reach them and ask,” she insisted, trying to be more polite. She couldn't help but look back at the moor, desperately trying to spot any sign of flaming red fur.
With a sigh, Leopardfur gave her a sympathetic look. “It's not a matter of ability, but a matter of circumstance,” she explained. “Windclan and Shadowclan have been at extreme odds lately. Every moon there's more tales of battles and injured cats. Lately, there have even been deaths,” she explained.
“Even if we ignore the dangers we face just by trespassing to ask them, it could have lasting consequences,” Leopardfur sternly meowed as she looked around for a patch of dirt. Upon locating one, she drew two crisscrossing lines with slender claws.
“The clan territories, conveniently for the purpose of this simplified explanation, form a loose square. Windclan in the top left, Shadowclan in the top right, and I assume you know where Riverclan and Thunderclan lay on this map?” She asked, gesturing to each spot in turn. Princess nodded, more than a little frustrated at being held from Windclan.
“In times of hardship or war, it's common for the clan to find an ally in the clan across from them,” the golden tabby elaborated, drawing more line to connect the diagonal clans. “It's easier to steal from immediate neighbors. Your warriors don't have as far to travel and aiming for the one diagonal from you is likely to upset your neighbors as well.”
“So if Windclan and Shadowclan are going at it, Windclan may think we're there to help their enemies,” Princess meowed, her head hung low.
"Yes… More to the point, Windclan and Thunderclan may already be allies. Even though you didn’t seriously wound him, you did make an enemy of Tigerclaw, the Thunderclan deputy; you and your brother are Thunderclan’s enemies by extension. Depending on how much Rosestar- the Thunderclan leader- cares about the whole situation, and how badly Windclan is fairing in all of this, Privetstar may be made to take action. I am sorry for what happened to you and your brother. The whole clan is. But wanting to question them when it won't necessarily prove anything will accomplish nothing except roping my clan into a war," the deputy meowed firmly, her tone making it clear the conversation was done.
Princess went silent, gazing at the moor with her head down. She understood what Leopardfur was saying and she didn't want to risk getting others hurt in her search for answers but… she couldn't help the deep pit of longing in her belly. She only turned her eyes to her guide when she heard her sigh heavily.
"Nothing lasts forever, Princess," she said, resulting in Princess giving her a shocked look. When had she given this other cat her name? "Information like names spread like wildfire in a clan," the deputy soothed, a short giggle in her tone.
"Back on topic, this fit going on between Windclan and Shadowclan, it'll end eventually. When it does, there are many cats in the clan who would volunteer to escort you to their border to wait for a patrol. We would do that now but… Windclan is getting very defensive. I'm not asking you to give up; Starclan knows, I would never ask that. I'm just telling you to have some patience," she finished with a stern finality in her words and gaze. She didn't even give Princess the time or acknowledgement needed to reply; she just walked by her in the way they had come from.
The calico followed after a few heartbeats. They weren't going back through the pasture. Instead, they stayed by the gorge. "I'm sorry if I messed up the tour," she meowed, just trying to break the somewhat tense and awkward silence.
She got a head shake in response. "You didn't. There wasn't much left to see up that way. I had wanted to check a bit more of the border while there but that was just as good of a turning point as any other.” The younger molly eyed her oddly. Why had they even gone as far as they had if there wasn’t much to see? Why show her the Windclan border if they couldn’t go check on Rusty immediately?
So distracted by her thoughts, Princess almost ran into Leopardfur from behind. The golden tabby had stopped before a small but sturdy looking bridge. The river, still holding plenty of speed from the gorge, rushed underneath; an unstoppable torrent that would certainly wash away any cat that tried to swim across rather than walk. “This bridge is our most direct path to Fourtrees,” she meowed, only continuing to walk when she was certain she had the other cat’s attention once more.
Instead of crossing the bridge, she continued to lead them by the river. “Once a moon, under the light of the full moon, the clans meet at Fourtrees. There is a permanent truce on this night; it is merely a night to share information and peacefully settle disputes peacefully,” she explained as she lead Princess under a weeping willow tree. The kittypet couldn’t help but gape at the beauty inside.
The golden light of sunset shone through the delicate, wavy fronds. Everything inside the dome of leaves was painted as golden as the sun itself. A bit of the river flowed under the leaves, leaving a small island of roots for the mollies to sit on. Princess followed the clan deputy as she took her seat on a large willow root. The older cat practically glowed in the sunshine; her naturally golden coat seeming to radiate a golden aura. Princess’s own coat, a mix of dark black and fire red with some white patches thrown in, seemed to take on a golden sheen.
Neither cat said a word; Princess took the moment of quiet to try to sort through her thoughts. More than ever, a glimmer of hope at seeing her brother burned brightly inside her. Even outside of her lingering doubts and her own memories saying he tried fighting rather than running, she felt better somehow. Sharper, more alert; it was as though something about her tour had woken up something inside her.
“I’m sure you see it now,” Leopardfur meowed. Still curled up with her tail over her paws, the golden tabby sat with her eyes closed as she addressed the young one with her. Yellow eyes opened to meet green. “It’s always good to work through your grief but you should never dwell on it. That’s why we send those who have suffered a loss on patrols; they can do work that helps keep them focused while giving them grieving room,” she explained.
Princess nodded. It was true, the pain and worry weren’t gone entirely but she did feel better. Still, why had Leopardfur done this for her? While their general policy made sense, why include an outsider such as herself. The deputy did not seem like a cat why would just extend a helping paw to outsiders like that without a hidden motive. At least, that’s what Princess had gathered from Shadepaw’s tales of the deputy and what little she had seen of her herself.
Sure enough, the next words out of Leopardfur’s mouth had been ones she had been expecting in one form or another for what felt like an eternity. Then again, the entirety of the two days she had been in clan territory felt like an eternity. “What do you plan to do now?”
It was a fair question. Even without Leopardfur snapping her somewhat back to her senses with a run of the territory, she wouldn’t have been able to stay in Mudfur’s den forever. That would just be leeching off of Riverclan’s kindness. That didn’t mean she knew where she would go or what she could do now, though. “What are my options? I wouldn’t be able to return home, would I?”
“I’m afraid not. Normally, such escorts aren’t a problem. The problem is that your home is on the other side of Thunderclan territory. That leaves you with two,” the muscular molly explained, turning to face the slim tortoiseshell. “While I don’t think the twolegs in our territory would take you in, we do know some rogues who could escort you to other twoleg places. They’re kind and would make sure that you’re taken in by gentle housefolk,” she assured.
It was tempting. She wasn’t even sure she could survive without twolegs. Still, knowing she could never go home to her housefolk stung almost like knowing she could never see Jake again. They had been apart of her family. Who would be there to make sure the little kit stayed out of trouble while her father was taking care of things in another room? Who would help him soothe her cries, or play ball with her, or cuddle close to her when she was cold? ‘They’ll probably get another kittypet,’ she thought sadly. He certainly would need the extra paws. But could she move on so easily? Could she just blend into another family and leave her old one behind?
The pangs in her chest was all she needed to know her answer. “What’s my other option?” she asked quietly as she put a paw over her bell. Her collar, battered and torn, had somehow remained intact. True to form, it had jungled all throughout the day. With so much else on her mind, princess just hadn’t been able to focus on it enough to keep the accursed bell quiet.
“You could stay with Riverclan. Crookedstar is willing to allow you in; you’d train with the other apprentices and learn our culture, laws, as well as how to provide for yourself and your clanmates.” The deputy had a proud smile on her face at the thought.
“You really think I have what it takes to be a clan cat?” Princess asked her, her expression incredulous. “I can’t hunt, the little bit of fighting I have done was entirely beginner’s luck, I can’t run as long as you can, and I can barely keep my head above water if there’s a moving current,” she pointed out harshly, seeming to sag the more she insulted her own abilities. Still, while she knew her own shortcomings, she couldn’t help but feel a touch hurt by how quick Leopardfur was to agree with her.
“That’s all true,” she agreed. “But isn’t also true that you’re the same cat who, through sheer determination and will to live, fought the Thunderclan deputy to save her kin, ran herself to exhaustion because she was wise enough to not fight a battle she knew she couldn’t win, forced her body to stay afloat in what must have seemed like rapids, and still managed to stay awake long enough to explain everything to the clan that sheltered her? No cat is born knowing how to survive or how to be a warrior. That’s why everyone must be an apprentice before they can be a warrior,” she explained.
“It’s not how much of a natural you are that shows your ability to be a warrior, but your willingness to learn. A cat who was born a loner but understand loyalty, selflessness, and order has better potential to be a warrior than a clan born cat who’s only focused on battle, glory, and their own life,” the golden deputy pointed out nonchalantly as she began grooming a front leg.
Princess was still unsure. What Leopardfur had said made sense but how could she be sure that the young calico had it in her to tough it out in the wilderness. “You really think I could get by out here?” she asked in uncertainty.
“I think you owe it to yourself to try. After everything you’ve been through, I think you should at least invest in some self defense lessons. Those are valuable wherever you go,” she pointed out.
Though there was another worry. “Clan cats are very close to each other, aren’t they?” she asked quietly, taking her eyes off the deputy and turning to her golden-looking reflection in the river. “When Shadepaw talks to me about Riverclan, she talks like the whole clan is her family.”
“We are all a family. Not through blood, of course, but through the heart, spirit, and home. We fight and provide for each other, we mourn together and support each other. We all celebrate every important event in each other’s lives-” the deputy boasted proudly. Kittypets may have a sense of family but she doubted they had a sense of community like the clans did. She would have listed more but the kittypet before her cut her off.
“And how often must you all mourn together? How often do you have to say goodbye to the cats you call family because of a fight or there wasn’t enough food?” Still, she kept her eyes focused on the water. If it hurt this much when she lost Rusty, how much would it hurt if she joined the clan only for her new family to start dying?
The questions resulted in a stunned blink from Leopardfur that moved into a look of understanding. "I'll preface this with an answer. We undoubtedly see more death than kittypets but it isn't like we lose someone every other moon. Sometimes we go a whole year without losing anyone. Other years, we get hit with an outbreak of disease that claims three or four lives. Still, I don't think this should impact your decision," she meowed, going back to her grooming. Princess twisted back to look at her, confusion twisting her features.
"Death is inevitable, Princess. Even if you stayed at your twoleg's den with your brother, you would have witnessed death eventually. As terrible as it is to lose someone, it's a part of life and, just as with other parts of life, life won't stop just because of that moment. It carries on and we can either do the same or drown in the emotions of the moment," she said solemnly, flicking her tail to Princess so it would brush against her flank.
Princess considered Leopardfur's words. She supposed they were true enough but they still didn't quite soothe the worry she held. Seeing this, the deputy said something startling. "You know, Mudfur is my father."
Emerald orbs wide, Princess meowed, "How? Shadepaw said healers aren't allowed to take a mate or have kits."
"Normally that's true; most healers are never warriors. My father was the exception. He found love and had a full litter of kittens," she replied with a short lived purr.
"What changed?" Princess muttered grimly, drawing herself back. Something had to have happened, why else would Mudfur give up his family?
"My mother became sick while pregnant. She was too sick to survive labor and her illness made my siblings sick as well. I was the only one out of the litter to make it through," she explained. "It made my father decide that he wanted to heal instead of battle."
Princess sighed and turned back to the water. She figured as much. Yet, Leopardfur still had a point. Mudfur had to of still been devastated, but he pushed through. Maybe she should do the same. Besides, Rusty risked everything, possibly sacrificed everything, so she could have a chance to live. Didn't she at least owe it to him to learn how to defend herself? "If I try being a warrior and it isn't for me?" she murmured.
"Crookedstar is willing to put you on a trial run, if you wish. You can train with us for one moon and see how you like clan life. After that, you can leave if you wish." 
Princess sat in silent contemplation. A moon to see how it went couldn't hurt, right? And it'd give her more time to figure out what she wanted to do now. Besides, she may actually enjoy clan life, once she gave it a chance. Turning back to the deputy, she nodded. "I'll do the trial run," she announced, feeling sure for the first time since coming here.
Leopardfur gave her a small smile. "Excellent," she meowed before standing and stretching. "We'll tell Crookedstar at once; he'll want to hold your ceremony as soon as possible," she added before darting out if the golden sanctuary, in the direction of camp. Princess scrambled behind her, wondering what this trial had in store for her.
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wincore · 4 years
Text
nct dream + fantasy creatures (halloween edition)
note: it is here at last im late but i wrote this in a span of a few hours because halloween is my favourite time of the year! happy spooks everyone !!
disclaimer: everything written here is a work of fiction and is not affiliated with any real person whatsoever. the myths have been slightly tweaked to fit the  story therefore they might not align with traditional beliefs.
huli jing!renjun
you gaze in awe at kun’s words
‘really?’ you ask ‘those really exist?’
‘i don’t know about that, but don’t you go looking for them. they might not be kind.’
you nod your head vehemently 
‘of course not.’
lessons are boring in the village but sitting in the garden with kun and hearing his stories always cheers you up
‘...well, if i were to find one, how would i know?’ you ask
there’s a pause before kun laughs
‘a fox’s tail is not so easily hidden’
you puff your cheeks
that doesn’t help
the breeze is light today, the trees in various warm shades and the frogs sing their lullabies
you could stay here on the soft grass forever if you could
it’s calm and perfect here
but then the bell chimes two and you’re off to class again
you breathe in
you’ve heard of the huli jing before but what you didn’t know is the possibility they might be real
you shudder
you’ve heard far more tales than kun has told you about the fox spirits and their gorgeous tails, all nine of them golden
you know how they pose as beautiful people to lure the villagers out and then rip out their hearts and livers and inhale their essence - their hunger insatiable
but kun says they might not all be bad, some swallow the essence from nature, some might even help people
not all of them are bad
you scoff
who would ever believe monsters could be kind?
the story kun told you was about the old man living by the forest 
he said that the man once fell in love with a huli jing himself and was eventually betrayed
yet he still stays by the forest, praying for the safety of his long gone lover
you breathe out
you think you’ve had enough stories of these terrifying creatures
the breeze has turned cold, you notice, as you run back to class
the night is even colder
‘kun?’ you call 
he should have come back an hour ago
you gulp when you stare at the path to the forest beyond the faded red gates of the shrine
you just need to get to the first clearing - that’s where the woodsman’s settlement is
but what you don’t expect
is to find your brother and the woodsman in arms, eyes trained on a figure sitting lazily atop the cottage roof
and then you see the tails
they’re not golden but they glow pure white, lush and grand 
and although the boy they belong to is rather skinny, they give him a weighted look
you can’t hear them speak from behind the tree but they appear to be in disagreement
kun stands by, his face worried while the woodsman raises his axe
you don’t think you’re supposed to be seeing this
there’s a shout then a yell
then the fox is gone
you look around desperately - what if he’s near you, what if he attacks you?
but you see kun making his way towards the village and stumble into a bush to avoid them
you hold your breath till they pass you
you’ll follow them back at a distance - that’s it. you don’t want to get kun worried now
‘and why might you be here?’
you whip around to meet the boy with golden eyes
you let out a yelp, stumbling backwards only to trip over a shrub and onto the ground
he takes a step forward, crouching to meet your eyes
‘leave’
your heart is hammering but you can’t look away
he’s frowning but he looks absolutely ethereal - eyes, nose, lips and of course, his tails
‘i can feel your pulse, you know? i can lower it if you want’ he speaks softly
his voice is surprisingly civilized for a creature born of wild magic
‘i never ask them to be so fascinated with me’ he continues, his voice still low
you feel yourself drawing closer, your heartbeat no longer erratic
his tails are around you
and they’re as soft as they look, you find when one brushes your skin
‘you’re a pretty one’ he whispers 
his mouth is near yours and you can feel him breathe you in as he keeps his arms on either side of you
‘but i don’t play games with prey’
angel of death!jeno
you focus on the horizon beyond the fields
it’s hard to see when the moonlight is the only guide, night curling around your shoulders
the fog is thick, almost as if it’s smoke
you take a sharp breath
then you fire the first arrow
there are no heroes or villains in war - only victors
you’ve seen far too many die here, innocent souls
but death does not care for that
the battle spills over - the cause forgotten
and yet, people die for it
death might not even be that bad. in fact, he’s pretty cute
your eyes meet blue in the midst of battle and you clench your jaw
you don’t think it’s time yet
contrary to what everyone believes, death is not clad in black but in white
his eyes are icy blue and he holds a bow that appears to be made of grey mist
and would you dare say he’s handsome? 
only behind closed doors in hushed whispers, only to him 
but then again, the angels of death look different to all
and to you, he’s an archer
the soldier beside you falls, an axe to his chest and a pale arrow marked above it
has he marked everyone today?
a white arrow flies past you, the sound leaving an echo in your ears
you turn to find the boy - the angel, messenger, whatever he is - standing by the rock jutting out of the ground
he lazily fires his arrows, all of them hitting their marks
his eyes are brighter at night
the sounds around you are discordant
a cleave swings over your head, undoubtedly hitting someone marked
you drop low, inevitably nearing the messenger
‘are we fighting alongside each other now?’ you joke, your eyes keeping track of movement around you
‘i’m only doing my job’ he says quietly
‘why is it that we always meet, jeno?’
you fire three arrows at a charging swordsman
‘you should tell me that’
you chuckle
‘i missed you, if that makes it any better’ you say
he laughs, the sound otherworldly
it’s quiet between the two of you as the night rages on
‘will you mark me today?’
he turns to you, no particular expression on his face
‘will you run again?’
‘i might unless you tempt me.’
he frowns
there’s a silence that makes you lose your words
his hands are red but none of the blood his and you almost get a glimpse of his sharp teeth and hollowed eyes
‘you can run but only for so long till my arrows find you’
he leans closer, his breath chilling over your mouth and eyes ever glowing
‘i will claim you.’
‘i know’ you whisper, finding your voice again
he pulls back smiling, his teeth sharp
‘i hope you remember me the day you do’ you say before he parts, a low hum tuning its way to you in response
the mist curls around his fingers, the fields almost barren now
you’ve flirted with death before - several times actually
perhaps it’s time you stop running from him
witch!haechan
this is not where you’re supposed to be
this is definitely not where you’re supposed to be
you were running from your friends trying to steal your candy but you might have ran a bit too far 
you aren’t familiar with this part of the neighbourhood at all
you walk around aimlessly - how did you even get here?
the place has gone overboard with the halloween decorations - or perhaps no one’s home
the buildings are lifeless, some of the taller ones faded beyond repair
there’s something eerie about this place you can’t quite put your finger on
well till you run into a boy and make him drop all his books
‘ow...’
he glares at you
‘i’m sorry!’ you say, frantically picking his books up
he narrows his eyes at you as he stands up, as if he can’t quite figure you out
‘is that...blood?’
your eyes trail to your knees, strangely bloodied and bruised - perhaps you hit the ground too hard 
but funnily enough, you didn’t feel any pain until now
‘come on, my house is down the corner. i’ll get you some bandages’ he offers
‘oh, thank you...but i should really be getting home...’
‘it’s okay. you can repay me with your candy.’ he grins, his smile boyish and oddly comforting
you raise an eyebrow
‘alright. you can’t have more than one, though.’
‘aren’t you a little too old to be trick-or-treating anyway?’
‘it’s a uni event. aren’t you a little too old to be mooching candy off someone?’
‘there’s no age limit for that’ 
you laugh as he takes the books from you, leading the way down
‘i’m haechan, by the way.’
‘i’m (name).’
as if the neighbourhood couldn’t get any creepier, the mist here seems to glow green and the fireflies twinkle with a certain malice to them
haechan’s apartment, however, seems to have skipped halloween altogether and jumped straight into christmas
the lights are bright and colourful, with an odd fancy mask hanging from the doorframe
when you give him a look, he pouts
‘i don’t like the dark.’
he seems to be living alone, apart from a small black cat which comes hurling at you the moment you enter
‘woah’ haechan yells, removing the cat from you ‘what did jeno feed you? how are you so heavy?’
you laugh as he puts the cat down, bitterness never so apparent in a cat
the next to greet you is a frog, plopping right on the table by which you’re sitting
you gasp at it’s sudden leap, placing a hand over your heart
‘why do you have a frog?!’
‘excuse me? that’s my dad.’ he calls from the washroom
you shake your head
‘i’m kidding’ he adds later, thoughtfully
your eyes inevitably stop over the wonderfully coloured jars
some seem to have trapped light, some various shades of dark liquids and some shine like molten precious stones
‘you have to pay to touch that.’
you turn around to find haechan with bandages and some antiseptic
‘what are these?’
haechan pauses
‘uhm...juice?’
you tap your foot impatiently 
he sighs
‘okay you got me. that’s trapped starlight. had to travel a lot to find that one. oh, these eyeballs are just candy. i hope. aand that’s the crushed tooth of a kraken, that’s an angel’s elixir. ooh! this one’s fairy milkshake. i’ve got a lot of that, wanna try-’
‘what’
‘do you believe in all this?’ he asks
‘what does it matter if i do?’
he grins
‘what do you say about becoming a witch’s apprentice?’
‘are you kidding me right now?’
‘wait. let me care take of this first.’
he takes a colourless gel-like substance, rubbing it over your knee with two fingers
and after a few seconds, it’s like there was never even a wound
‘and now...’ he continues, fighting a smile
he proceeds to take a purple potion, pouring two drops over the floor
a black butterfly emerges, its wings burning as it flies up into its own oblivion
he looks up and finally smiles as if to say ‘see? i’m not lying. i’ve got more where that comes from.’
you stay quiet for a while, processing everything
‘why did you tell me this? aren’t you supposed to keep things like this a secret?’ you cross your arms
‘you look like someone who could stomach the extraordinary.’
he laughs
‘it’s okay if you don’t. i’ll make you forget all of this.’
you rapidly shake your head
‘i’ll be your apprentice!’
haechan tilts his head to the side
‘but don’t forget. everything comes at a cost’
you nod
it can’t be that bad
‘i’ll have to come here every night?’ you shudder
‘don’t worry’ he laughs ‘the ghouls and demons here are all afraid of me.’
you stare at him, petrified before he laughs at your face
‘really! you don’t have to worry about them.’
you shake your head, giving him another look
but you see it over and perhaps a little bit of adventure couldn’t hurt
you look at the boy beside you, his caramel skin and honey eyes hard to not stare at
you almost blush when he meets your eyes
you take the vintage feathered pen he offers, no doubt showing off his collection and sign the contract he presents you, your name glowing amethyst violet
and in your excitement you forget to check the contract, the binding contract
perhaps you will, after a few years
when you notice how everyone around you seems to grow old, never seems to  keep up with your energy
when you see your friends get married and have children yet you can’t seem to bother
when your friends are all wrinkled yet you look just the way you did years ago
perhaps you’ll ask to see the contract and gasp
you should have been more observant
after all, in the end, there’s only the witch and his apprentice
elf!jaemin
you don’t think your pumpkin latte is supposed to glow this way
you look to the server and back to your drink
you don’t think he sees it
he smiles and walks away leaving you to your oddly gold pumpkin latte, reflecting the major part of the sunlight right onto your face
you crane your neck to catch a glimpse of the brewer
it’s difficult when his back is turned to you but he looks so familiar
you take a sharp breath when you see his face
jaemin never told you he worked here
you smile to yourself when he almost spills the coffee over
you’re always smiling when it comes to him
ever since you had seen him on campus, there’s been something about him that wouldn’t let your mind escape him
but it’s not just his face or his starry smile and kind manners or the pointed ears - there’s something about him, something secretive
you don’t believe in fairy tales but he just might be one
it was barely summer when he first talked to you
something about an assignment which you didn’t mind lending him
and you found he’s more than all the girls lining up to see him and the same shining smile he gives everyone
in his jokes, in his laugh and the way he speaks and the way he treats everyone
it’s been a while since you’ve had a friend like this
but today he doesn’t look your away, dark circles under his eyes and a drudging rate of work
you figure you should greet him after work, buy him another cup of his beloved coffee
you take the same subway ride home after all
‘(name)?’
jaemin looks surprised, a little starstruck maybe
he smiles
‘how did you know i work here?’
you giggle
‘well...i didn’t. till you made me a glowing drink.’
jaemin’s ears turn red
‘it was- it was glowing?’
‘yeah! it was all golden and glowy.’
‘uhh..’ his voice breaks and he clears his throat ‘it’s a new ingredient we’re testing!’
‘it tasted just fine though’ you assure him
he scratches the back of his head, smiling wide ‘thanks’
you hope you don’t make it awkward when you blush at the way he smiles at you, or when he holds your hand to keep you from getting lost in the crowds
‘really? jeno? don’t tell me you like him.’
jaemin rolls his eyes
your cheeks feel hot as you try to stammer out an explanation
‘i- i don’t like him. i just- i just thought he was sweet to me last saturday, that’s all.’
‘you went on a date without telling me?’ jaemin huffs
‘it- it wasn’t a date!’
‘whatever’ jaemin pouts ‘i can’t believe you like someone other than me.’
you laugh it off, his smile brighter than the stars as usual
it’s hard to not close your eyes too as he rests his head on your shoulder in the lone train compartment
it’s so peaceful like this
‘(name)? can i tell you something?’
you hum in response
‘never mind’ he says, sitting up straight
he looks at you for a long few seconds, enough to make you blush, before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear
he stands up all of a sudden
‘wanna dance?’ he says with a grin
‘right here?’ you ask, incredulous
‘what? there’s no one here!’
you return his smile and take his hand as he pulls you up into his arms
there’s no music but you hear songs - humming full of melody and sweet words
he laughs when he sees you trying hard to not step on his feet or the focus on your face till it’s finally gone when you get the hang of it
it’s so peaceful like this
suddenly you don’t know where the train leads
jaemin still smiles
‘i like you, you know that?’ he whispers as he twirls you, hands back on your waist to hold you
the dancing never ends
‘i like you too’ you respond, not knowing why
you can smell the flowers growing around the benches, their vines curled around almost everything
you hear the bees buzzing, looking for nectar
there’s moonlight above you, the silver light making jaemin’s hair glow
he leans in, his lips just brushing yours
‘thank you’ he whispers ‘for being truly kind to me’
it’s almost dawn - you can hear the birds chirping and the moonlight wanes
it’s so peaceful like this
you think if it’s jaemin, forever isn’t so empty
you take a step off the train
and the rest is history
zombie!chenle
‘what the heck is going on?’
 you eye donghyuck and renjun at each other’s throats on the floor
you tap your foot impatiently against the wood
‘(name)! renjun brought a zombie. get him out!’ donghyuck complains
you blink 
‘he what’
‘well, what if he doesn’t want to go away?’ renjun retorts
you gesture for the both of them to stop talking when you feel a presence right behind you
you let out a sound of surprise, falling to the floor to find a boy staring down at you
a stitch runs right across his face, his skin paler than normal; his left eye is oddly translucent and his hair is a dim blonde, and overall he looks rather impish
yet he still looks like a boy nonetheless
he bends, squinting at you and you squeak, your shock getting the best of you
a moment later, the three of them burst into laughter
you frown at them
‘what’s so funny?’
you get up and face the boy
despite his ghoulish features, he still has flesh and he looks like a boy as ever
‘i’m chenle!’ he greets you with a grin ‘hyung brought me here. and... uh... i think i broke your coffee table, i’m really sorry about that’ 
his grin changes to an apologetic frown
you poke his cheek and pull back immediately, distracted
‘oh, your skin’s really soft.’
‘yeah, i used to take care of it a lot.’
there’s a pause
‘wait a minute, you did wha-’ you huff, ‘renjun aren’t you scared to death of ghosts?’
‘ghosts, not zombies’ he crosses his arms
‘ghost or zombie, he’s still annoying’ donghyuck grumbles
you sigh at the two of them
from the looks of it, however, they’ve already befriended the boy
when you turn around, you find chenle busy with the housecat, picking her up and scrutinising her
‘what are you doing?!’ you ask, panicking
‘well, it’s been a while since i’ve seen these’ 
he looks at you with a smile so adorable you lose track of your thoughts for a few moments
you cough, pretending your heart didn’t just stop
‘how long have you been dead?’
‘i don’t know. a while, i guess. ooh, do you have a piano? i’ve missed those!’
you shake your head ‘i don’t think we do.’
‘that’s okay’ he grins, eyes strangely sparkling ‘ooh, do you have a basketball court? or a car? or maybe a coffee shop nearby?’
‘there’s one down the block, i guess’ you tilt your head ‘you’ve really missed life, huh?’
before he can say anything, donghyuck calls from the other room ‘hey bighead! we’re going shoppi- er- to the playgrounds or something!’
chenle laughs, the sound piercingly loud but oddly cheerful
you smile without realizing
you never knew the dead could be so full of life
chenle then turns to you to answer ‘of course i missed this!’
you pinch the bridge of your nose but you continue smiling
there’s something infectious about him...and it’s not the zombie part
then again, your house isn’t exactly a stranger to oddities
‘come with us!’ chenle says, grabbing your attention
‘okay’ you agree
you get back to the living room to get your coat, to find renjun lying on the sofa
you need to know this
you turn to him, narrowing your eyes
‘where in hell did you even get a zombie?’
renjun scratches his head
‘you know that old guy in the robes by the graveyard? the one who carries a staff around like he’s about to summon the dead? well, he actually did that.’
‘renjun, we live in the underworld.’
‘oh, right.’
ghost!jisung
‘please just let me haunt you’
‘no’
‘...okay’
you shake your head and groan
‘jisung! see? this is why you never get anything done? ghosts aren’t supposed to be polite’
the boy in front of you scratches his head, his skin translucent and eyes cast down guiltily
‘okay try your puppy form’ you say
‘that’s not a puppy’ he begins but tones down at your stare
he sighs
the big black dog stares back at you, fur curling into mist and eyes glowing red
he growls quietly before it eventually turns into a snarl, his teeth lethal
you yawn
the dog collapses into mist to reveal jisung once more, a rather pouty expression on his face
‘nothing scares you. that’s why this doesn’t work!’
‘you’re just too cute, jisung’ you frown
he blushes, a strange colour on pale skin
‘but i’m supposed to haunt the town. only the old ladies are scared of me. and i feel bad about that.’
you laugh 
jisung might just be the cutest ghost out there
‘i’m thinking...maybe haunting isn’t my thing.’
‘but you’re a ghost! why else would you be a ghost?’
he places his hand on his chin, concentrating on his thoughts
‘i can’t remember anything about who i was. maybe i’m not vengeful’
‘it took you all that thinking to realize th- actually, never mind. maybe you’re meant to enjoy things life has to offer...after death.’
‘honestly, that sounds like a... total killjoy.’
you stare blankly at him
‘sorry, i ran out of jokes.’
you laugh at his awkward smile, patting him on his head like you do
‘well, what are you supposed to do?’ he asks
‘i don’t know. i just talk to ghosts i guess.’
jisung shrugs, sinking further onto the grass
it’s a beautiful night tonight - every night has been sweet to you and jisung since you first met
this town is no stranger to ghosts and poltergeists
of course, no one but you realizes that
some of the ghosts, you make a friend out of, some, you’d rather avoid
and there’s jisung
you didn’t know what to expect when the ghost of a giant black dog suddenly transformed into a sleeping boy
you aren’t even sure what he is, but life’s been better with him around
he accompanies you to school, listens to you throughout the lunch break, makes snarky comments during class (that you’d rather not have) and tells you all the places to find the prettiest mushrooms
it’s the first time you’ve seen a spirit so attentive
usually they just lament over their lost life, thank you for listening and go back to haunting or whatever engages them till they can finally be at peace
jisung is...a little different
for starters, you can actually touch him without diving too deep into the realm of the dead
it’s like half of him is still alive
but the mist grows strong around him
‘how’d you learn to talk to ghosts?’ jisung asks, quietly
‘well, i almost died. then i realized i can exist in both the realms.’
‘that sounds...awful.’
you laugh
‘it’s not that bad. i found you.’
jisung blushes again, you don’t know how. does he even have blood?
‘hey, what do you think happens after you’re done being a ghost?’ you ask
jisung stops glaring at the frog near the creek to meet your eyes
‘are you trying to scare me?’
you laugh
‘just thinking.’
‘i like it here’ he says ‘i like everything even if i feel less than i used to.’
‘that’s good to know.’
jisung laughs, the sound boyish and full of a certain joy you can’t put together
it should be this way
two best friends enjoying their time in a town that never lives
finding new adventures every day 
listening to new songs and dancing to the wind
getting on doyoung’s nerves together (but doyoung, of course, thinks it’s just you)
confusing jeno at the flower shop or hitting renjun with harmless little stones when he’s not looking
you trying to scare jisung (which is almost always a success when it comes to cockroaches)
jisung always putting a smile on your face with how awkwardly he scratches his head and looks away when you compliment him
it’s as close to a friendship as you can get
but you know the truth
you remember that day everything changed
you remember the boy and his pet dog sailing with you, playing around the docks
you remember the storm and how you almost died
you remember letting the rope go and watching the boy sink to the abyss
you remember despair
you remember feeling numb the week after and more
it’s as clear as day
you look at jisung, his eyes closed and his figure resting on the warm grass
this is your repentance
195 notes · View notes
annes-andromeda · 5 years
Text
GOT Virtues AU: Golden Hearts and Red Diamonds
N/: Another AU chapter! This time with Sansa and Tyrion. Their dynamic in the show really interested me, and I even began to ship them. Keep in mind, I said SHOW version, not book. Book version isn’t really my thing.
She had walked through these gardens endlessly. The Red Wolf walking inside the lions den. Every flower, every shrub, every tree; Sansa Stark had seen it all. Had she had not endured her endeavors, she would’ve been more than happy to pick the flowers from the gardens. To see the clear waters from the cliffs, and eat lemon cakes and custard from her plate.
But that’s not how it went. Her lord father murdered, and the sweetling to be wed to a stag who stuck his horns in fresh flesh. At least, that was originally the plan. Now, she had been wed to a golden lion and given a cloak of red satin.
A Lannister they have made me,Sansa thought coldly. But perhaps I should be grateful. Had I been married to Joffrey, I would not be able to hide my scars for long.
Lord Tyrion was kind, Sansa admitted, but he was still a Lannister. They had executed her father, and nearly made her marry a monster. Unlike Joffrey, however, Tyrion was no monster. To everyone he had looked like a monster, but he didn’t act as one. He was clever, no one could deny. Not even Sansa.
However after bearing the news of the Red Wedding and the death of her mother, Sansa wished to be alone. To hide in her grief and to let go of her sorrows.
Sansa sat in the Godswood of the Red Keep, where she was in solitude aside from the guards standing but beside her so as to keep an eye on her. She tried not to stare at them, for even if they were silent she felt as if they whispered hate of her into their ears. She’d imagine what their tongues would spill:
The little porcelain bird is weeping from the eyes. Such a broken thing to be sold to the lions.
Traitors daughter letting her tears spill for her bitch mother and traitor brother. What shame she brings, what disgrace.
She doubted they were saying this, but she wouldn’t turn back to know. There was enough hate in the capital for Sansa to care. Despite such sadness being brought from the tragedy, it gave Sansa the solitude she desired. She knew that Robb was still alive, probably captured by the Boltons or Lannister soldiers and given as a gift to Joffrey. But her mother,... Sansa had heard stories. How her throat was slit and her body thrown into the river like scrap. She heard rumors that her mother had screamed so loud, the men thought she would become half wolf. Others said she clawed at her eyes, her cheeks leaving red scars, and that she had simply laughed in a blind insanity. They said that the men had slit her throat so as to quite her.
Sansa felt the salt of her tears make her eyes sting. She wouldn’t show the guards any of her pain, or else she’d truly be mocked. The tears fell from her cheeks, and she wiped them away. This wasn’t healthy, she admitted. Hiding her sorrows instead of confronting them. But Sansa did not wish to endure the embarrassment of having others feel pity for her.
And that’s when she heard something. A low rumble from behind her. Sansa thought it was just one of the guards letting out a tired groan or a small mumble that escaped one of their lips. She turned her head slowly, and her eyes widened as she let out a quiet gasp.
Standing in front of her, a lion prowling towards her. But it wasn’t in the term that it was the Queen Regent or the Kingslayer, but a true lion. It had no mane, so it must have been female. She stood at about the guards hips, and her coat was cream. The color of wheat, sunshine, and even the golden locks of the Lannisters. Her bronze eyes were fixed on the girl in front of her, and Sansa seemed to back away slowly.
But before the lioness could touch her, she turned back and walked away. Sansa seemed confused. Was this a trick by Cersei to frighten her? It seemed to work if that was the case. Sansa’s hands were shacking ever so slightly, but yet she also felt curious. She doubts there are any wild lions roaming in the Red Keep aside from the small cats. Sansa had caught a glimpse of Arya trying to pounce on one of the little kittens but a while back. It brought memories she wished she could relive, but they were faint and then gone.
Sansa got up from her sitting position, and followed the lioness. Curiosity got the better of her, and her pain was seemingly forgotten. Up the stone steps she walked, hiking up her skirt and practically running to catch up with the beast while the clicking of her heels could be heard. The green leaves of the gardens could be seen, but the golden lion was nowhere to be found.
Did I scare her off? Sansa thought. Has one of the guards taken her?
Before she could answer her own question, Sansa looked down at her feet to see a bread trail made on the floor. But instead of crumbs, it was small pale petals that fell off Sansa’s hands so delicately as she bent down to grab a few. Blood-blooms, she thought. She followed the trail, asking herself whether or not a lion could be as intelligent so as to leave petals at her feet.
Sansa turned her eyes to see the location in which the Tyrells and their associates would normally be seen fine dining or simply enjoy the clear waters from the cliffs. She stopped once the roof of the arbor-like structure covered the sun from hitting her face, and her eyes seemed to narrow ever so slightly as the sight of the half man deemed her husband was in view.
“My lady-“ Tyrion began
“Don’t” Sansa interrupted coldly “I do not wish to speak to you” She began to walk away, but the lioness practically pounced in front of her, blocking her path.
“My lady, please. I had nothing to do with your mother’s death, that was all my father’s doing. I was as shocked as you were. Your brother was an enemy to the crown, I admit, but I never wished anything so cruel to fall upon him”
Sansa fidgeted with her fingers. She turned to meet Tyrion’s gaze, her eyes as blue as frost and they seemed to stare coldly into the mans heart. Tyrion wished those eyes didn’t look at him so cruelly, but he wasn’t a wolf who lost a part of its pack. He was a lion whose pride has sunk its claws into the winter wolfs and feasted upon their flesh. If only the eyes of his wife had looked at him with a longing for something other than an untimely death. He wished she would allow him to bring her comfort, and treat her with the kindness she very much needed.
Tyrion walked up to her, and grabbed her hand gently. He rubbed his fingers on her skin, a feeling that Sansa didn’t seem to dislike. Despite his distorted appearance, Tyrion’s hand brought ease to Sansa’s mind and she felt safe in them.
“My lady” he began “I made a promise to protect you. That I will bring you tranquility, gratification, and protection. I want you to be happy. I may not be your Knight of Flowers, I know that, but allow me to ease your sorrows and your pain be saturated”
“What do you know of my sorrows, Lord Tyrion?” Sansa asked meekly “All this anguish bestowed upon me, my trials and tribulations. Pale claws have been struck at my skin, and my lips awash with the trail of my tears. I was a girl who adored tales of silver knights and sweet satins, but I feel as if I’ve been turned into a mere dog with a chain being pulled at my neck”
“Then allow me to cease these feelings for a time. Let me show you that the world still holds its beauty, and that the demons who haunt you will never grab hold of you” Tyrion motioned her to sit, which she complied. The table had been set with two glasses and a pitcher of wine. Their were also plates in front of them and, to Sansa’s silent delight, lemon cakes upon a silver platter. Tyrion offered her some of the cakes, which Sansa accepts with a whispered “Thank you”. They sit in silence for a while, with Sansa taking bites of the lemon cake and Tyrion pouring her wine so as to wash it down. She sips down the drink, and puts her glass down so as to break the pregnant silence.
“She’s beautiful” Sansa referred to the lioness, who had moved to sit next to Tyrion’s chair.
“Ah yes. She is quite the vision” Tyrion said, as he reached down to pet the lioness by her ear. She purred loudly, remaking the noise that Sansa had heard behind her back “Her name is Cira”
“She has a name?” Sansa asked, in which Tyrion nodded “I suppose she belongs to you”
“In a fashion” Tyrion asserted “To reference your previous statement, I believe her beauty is such a rare thing, no whore could ever compare”
Sansa seemed to smile a bit at that, and Tyrion proceeded to make his remarks “It’s the truth! Simply look at her! That mane of sunshine, those teeth as white as pearls, and those eyes of gold! Why, she could be the Mother reincarnated!”
That seemed to do it for Sansa, since she was drinking wine whilst Tyrion was speaking and nearly chocked while laughing. It seemed so foolish to giggle at such a statement, but the Little Bird just couldn’t help herself.
Tyrion smiled fondly. He had never seen Sansa laugh so vocally. He never even saw her giggle. To be subjected to such a laugh, a sound sweeter than any song, was something that brought Tyrion’s mind at ease.
Sansa’s laugh deteriorated to small chuckles, and they eventually ceased. She brought her head back up from her laughter to meet Tyrion’s gaze “How did you come upon owning her?” She asked
Tyrion sighed “To your dismay, it was my sister who first made contact with Cira”
Sansa’s head turned a bit “Cersei? She was the one who found Cira?”
“Unfortunately, yes” Tyrion stated “My siblings and I were on a trip at the Golden Tooth when our father was called to discuss certain matters. Afterwards, Cersei wished to purchase goods at the nearby market. Said she had found something that caught her eye. One of the merchants was selling stray kittens, and my sister seemed to notice that wasn’t the only thing he was selling”
“The lion cubs” Sansa said
“That’s right” Tyrion replied “At first my father didn’t wish to buy the cubs, seeming them as useless. But my brother Jaime convinced him to let them stay as guards in case anything were to happen to us or Casterly Rock”
Sansa never knew that’s where the lions came from. She had been told they were bred in the Westerlands to serve and protect House Lannister “Forgive me for not noticing sooner but, why are her eyes different shades?” She motioned to Cira, who still sat alongside her master.
Tyrion hesitated a bit. The thought of the incident with his companion angered him greatly “My father wanted to preform a test. A test to see which cub could survive in the wild the best. Cira seemed to struggle a bit, and my father didn’t like that. And so..., he had one of the guards strike her with the pummel of his sword”
Sansa gasped quietly. She had heard that Tywin Lannister was strict, but never had she imagined him to be capable of such cruelty. But then again, she remembered The Rains of Castamere, and that curiosity left her head.
Tyrion snapped her out of her thoughts, as he retold his story “Thankfully though, I was able to stop him before he did anymore damage to her. I swore on my life that I’d take care of her, and that whatever was wrong with her I’d fix it. I proclaimed she’d be the biggest and strongest of them all”
“Well she seems quite strong” Sansa remarked, smiling a bit
“Yes she does” Tyrion said fondly “However, I’m afraid to let her wander off on her own. After she was struck and I got her healed, Cira was left with a scar going through face and her eye was left blinded. I managed to train her and keep her out of harms way, namely my father and sister, but she still wants to get herself into trouble”
“I suppose that’s why you didn’t bring her to Winterfell when Robert Baratheon rode North” Sansa stated. She had seen Cersei’s lion, Everan, and Jaime’s lion, Rohar. But Cira was not in sight.
“If anything had happened to her, I’d be blamed for it. And I’ve had enough scorn for one lifetime” Tyrion remarked coldly. Cira nuzzled at his palm, asking for more attention. His eyes then gleamed with an idea.
“Would you like to touch her?” Tyrion asked
Sansa backed into her chair, and shook her head “Oh no, I-I couldn’t. I-“
“It’s alright” Tyrion said, as he got up from his chair and gently grabbed Sansa’s hand “She’s quite tame. I trust you, so I’ll believe she’ll trust you too”
The red-headed girl’s breath hitched as the lioness prowled towards her. Her nose brushed Sansa’s hand, and she sniffed at it curiously.
She’s taking in my scent, I presume, Sansa thought. I think she smells the lemon cakes I ate but moments ago.
She seemed to be right, as Cira licked her hand with her tongue and proceeded to nuzzle her palm. Sansa let out a sigh of relief, as her fingers rustled through Cira’s golden coat. She smiled faintly as Cira purred under her touch.
“See?” Tyrion reassured “She won’t hurt you, Sansa. As won’t I. We’ll protect you, I swear it”
Sansa’s smile faded at that. Protection. That was something she hadn’t seen in what seemed ages “How can you protect me, Lord Tyrion? You nearly lost your life at the battle of the Blackwater”
Tyrion pressed his hand against Sansa’s “You’re right. I’m not much of a fighter, that’s true. But as long as I’m around, neither Joffrey nor Cersei will be able to torment you. I won’t let them”
Sansa turned to look at Tyrion, taking in his eyes. One was a shade of jade like his siblings, the other a dark pool. Her eyes examined the scar that went across his face She thought back to what Margaery had told her: He’s quite handsome with the scar. Especially with the scar. Sansa had remarked that he was a dwarf, but she never thought of Tyrion as entirely ugly. His witty remarks and clever mind seemed to cloud his unusual looks, and it made him taller than any knight or king.
“You truly swear it, my Lord Husband?” Sansa said firmly
Tyrion’s eyes were calm and nervous, but never once did they leave Sansa. His lips pressed at her palm, kissing it softly.
“I swear on all the Gods, my Lady Wife”
Sansa didn’t know whether she should truly trust Tyrion Lannister, but he seemed to be one of the few in the capital who deeply cared for her happiness. Yes, he wasn’t the beautiful husband that she had dreamed off, but his sincerity and clarity brought true beauty to her eyes.
“My lady” Tyrion interrupted “I don’t mean to intrude on something so personal, but I’ve meaning to ask... about your virtue”
Sansa’s eyebrows furrowed “My lord?”
“I-It’s not for anything of secrecy!” Tyrion quickly assured her “I’m simply curious. My brother and sister have a virtue of their own, but I’ve never quite understood it. Maybe you could explain it to me?”
The Little Bird never liked talking about her virtue, but she seemed to trust Tyrion more than anyone. Even more than Margaery, she admitted.
“You promise not to spread this? To anyone?”
“I promise, Sansa” Tyrion said. And I mean it, he thought.
“I-I don’t really know how to describe it” Sansa began “My mother never properly explained it to me. But, she said it was like a feeling. That everything around you just stops, and you can just feel it”
“Feel what, exactly?”
“The ground” Sansa exasperated “She said that when she used the Terra, it’s like you can feel the soil on you skin. The gravel shaking at your feet, the mountains pillaging higher, the sand traveling through the sky like stars, and the crystals shining brighter”
“Crystals?” Tyrion had never heard that about the Terra
Sansa simply nodded “My mother told me that she could form diamonds from the tips of her fingers, and sapphires from her every step. However, I could never do what she told me. Whenever I tried, I’d just get so scared and... I’d loose control”
Tyrion didn’t seem to be surprised. At their young age, when Jaime and Cersei would practice with the Dusk, they’d return with bruises of purple and pink scars upon their skin.
“I want to learn how to use it” Sansa admitted “But I’m just so frightened that something terrible would happen or I’d hurt somebody. And-“ She stopped as her throat formed a small lump
“And what?” Tyrion begged
Sansa looked at him, tears beginning to form in her eyes “And I don’t want to be a monster”
Tyrion could only stare helplessly as Sansa’s tears fell down her cheeks, and she wiped them away embarrassingly. The half man didn’t wish to see the girl shed anymore tears, so he moved his hand to her back and caressed it lightly. Sansa shivered at his touch.
“Sansa, look at me” Tyrion said, as the girl did what she was told “You are not a monster. You are such a sweet and beautiful creature; no one could ever see you as such a thing. If anything, I should be the one called Monster”
“I guess we can be monsters together” Sansa joked
Tyrion chuckled deeply in his throat “Perhaps Cira should join us”
Sansa giggled “The half man and the lioness with hearts of gold-“
“-And the Little Bird of red diamonds”
The two cherished the moment with every fiber of their being. It seemed that Tyrion had succeeded in making Sansa happy, for her sorrows had been seemingly forgotten. Her lord husband caressed her hand with his thumb, while the other stayed on her back. Cira had placed her head on Sansa’s lap, and she resumed petting her, finding it comforting.
Never in her dreams did she imagine that instead of a stag coming in to swoop her away, two lions had retrieved her from a dark sand and into a field of dragonflies.
Perhaps if I gave him a chance, Sansa thought, my Lord Husband could truly be the Knight of Flowers.
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The Lost Trinity
A/N: it’s kind of choppy in certain places but it was inspired by a convo/suggestion from a friend so enjoy or don’t, your choice, just don’t be rude
Word Count: 982
“Where’s Sora?” Riku scanned Donald and Goofy’s faces, a hint of panic in his voice.
“He said he had something to do,” Donald started and Goofy continued. “Yeah, he went running off to the usual place. He said he’d catch up with us later.”
Riku sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He knew Sora, he knew how strong he was but… he also knew how reckless he could be… Kairi touched his arm, smiling encouragingly and pulling him from his thoughts. “He’s probably just checking on Trinity. He left him with Hayner, Pence and Olette.”
“You lost him?” Sora put his hands to his head and sighed in panicked frustration. Hayner responded first, then Olette, then Pence.
“We’re so sorry, Sora.”
“We didn’t mean to but he just ran off.”
“We searched the forest for hours but we still can’t find him.”
“Hours?! Oh man…”
“Nice going Pence, we agreed we wouldn’t tell him that part - hey wait!” Hayner called out. “Where are you going?”
Sora had taken off into the forest, his feet running faster than the panic in his brain. Trinity often warmed up to new worlds quite easily, that is when Donald would let him come along; but he’d never been in the forest before. He was a beach dog, born on destiny islands and found sometime during Sora’s last visit home. He was a lucky dog too, brave and fearless, but Sora couldn’t help but think about how alone he must be.
He cupped his fingers around his mouth and shouted, “Trinity!”
He called out a few more times, searching both high and low; but the closer he got to the old mansion and the more time that passed, the more he started to lose hope. His shoulders drooped and he sighed before calling out one more time. “Trinity, where are you?”
His head jerked around when he heard a faint bark and ran towards the noise. The three legged pit bull stood strong, growling at a hoard of shadows. Sora jumped in, keyblade already in hand. “I’ve got your back, buddy!”
The two of them took out the heartless with ease, then scanned warily until they were sure that was the last of them. Sora hugged Trinity and laughed when the pit covered him with kisses. “Good to see you too, boy. Let’s go see your aunt and uncles, they’re probably worried about you.”
When he turned to leave, Trinity nipped at his elbow then barked towards a small shrub in the shadow of a tree. Sora’s eyes followed him to a young, long haired tabby scowling at where the heartless were standing. He coaxed the cat out of their hiding spot and lifted them by the scruff of the neck. They had one eye and scars up and down the body and Sora couldn’t help but wonder how many times the cat had run into heartless before. But the thought was interrupted by a realization and he shouted out, “Xigbar! You have the same hair as him and everything.”
Trinity barked from next to him and he took that as an agreement. He pulled the battered tabby close to his chest and turned once again to head out of the forest, “Wait until the others see him-“ He paused, looking worriedly down at Trinity. “Oh no… we’re running so late!”
He ran towards the forest exit, laughing at the turn his day took.
The tower was silent, worry clouding the air. Though nobody voiced it, they were all thinking the same thing. How long did it take a boy to pick up his dog and hop on a train? Was he in danger? Would they know before it was too late? Riku huffed in annoyance, pulling himself from the wall and catching everyone’s attention. “I’m going to look for Sora.”
“What for? The kid’s probably fine,” Axel started, but he was trying to persuade himself more than Riku.
“What if something’s happened to him and we’re all just standing around?”
“Riku…” Kairi put her hand to her mouth, feeling his same worry inside her. “I’ll go with-“
In that moment the door burst open and Sora leaned over panting, “Sorry I’m so late!”
“What the hell happened to you,” Riku hounded in on him. “I thought you were just going to get Trinity.”
“I was but…” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and grinned sheepishly before explaining the whole story. “-and then I found them at the usual place and we parted ways at the train stop.”
Half the room stared at Sora with dumbfounded expressions, feeling as if they should’ve known he was rescuing another stray. It was Kairi who broke the ice, gesturing towards the animal in Sora’s arm, “So that’s the new addition to the family?”
“Oh! Yeah, his name is Xigbar!!” Sora exclaimed, a big cheesy grin on his face. Axel cupped a hand over his mouth, stifling laughter as he pictured Xigbar’s reaction to finding out that that precious, harmless kitten was named after him.
“Are you sure they’re a he? You haven’t been the best at reading animals.” Riku asked, ignoring Axel in the corner.
“Yeah, just take Lucky for example,” Kairi chuckled. “You changed your mind on their gender four different times and you still couldn’t figure it out when you gave them to me.”
“Uh… right…” Sora held the cat up, then peaked around their body, grinning awkwardly. “Could someone help me?”
Riku walked behind Sora, rubbing his chin. “That’s definitely a girl, Sora.”
“Okay then, Xigbar’s a girl!”
“Oh man, that’s too good!” Axel doubled over, unable to control his laughter this time and causing others to join in out of contagion.
Yen Sid waited until the commotion had calmed before he began, “I called you all in to talk about the return of heartless in Twilight Town, but it seems Sora has already let that be known.”
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infinitelyblankpage · 6 years
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Find The Word Tag (Larger than any word Mary Poppins could come up with)
I let them get away from me and now I have a billion (86!) words :D These words are courtesy of @indecentpause @forlornraven  @reeseweston  and @riftversus
Basically to make this easier on myself (I say after delaying so bloody long and accumulating so many words) The Games We Play is going to be in bold and Dark Magic will not.
Shall I tag people? I think so! TAGGING: @reeseweston @indecentpause @forlornraven @riftversus @type-writings @westywrites to find: Curse, figure, blunt, ache, flower, worn, clear, melody, music, game. (feel free to pick from the mammoth list below too!)
Words: oven, blanket, lake, wings, candle, cat, comfort, strange, gone, manage, book(s), sculpt, dress, smile, want, hungry, leaf/leaves, hand, night, circle, spun / spin, face, please, handle, palm, cough, inch / inched, edge, habit/habits,  teeth, center, eight, refuse/ refused/refusing, between, autumn, fire, round, fence, dusk, close, drop, grip, away, warm, over, score, thunder, growl, throw, slide, faint, dirt, hard, love, proud, round, shake, tower, anchor, next, grasp, fall, year, lost, time, edge, front, above, plant, break, tomorrow, yesterday, hug, end, suffer, year, sun, play, type, strap, swing, crown, beautiful, bright, mother, glass.
oven: Nope
blanket: Nope
lake: The surface of the lake rippled upon impact. Though small, it was one of the larger bodies of water the city had to offer.
wings: Caden sat steadily on the branch, his eyes tracking the tiny bird hovering in front of him. Its wings beating faster than Nathaniel’s heart.
candle: Nope
cat: “You came alone then?” Zachary nodded. “Are you going to come down and talk to me?” Without a word and with a grace Lukas would have expected from the cat, Zachary made his way down the fire escape.
comfort(able): Zach slipped his arms into the jacket properly and tapped Lukas’s knee. He obliged, moving his legs apart and Zach settled between them, leaning against Lukas’s chest. If he was being forced to sit on the ground at least he’d be comfortable.
strange: For the first time in a long time, Zach felt content. With his head on the pillow and Lukas’s fingers tracing strange, and probably random, patterns across his back, the tension of the past six months eased just a little.
gone: [Kayla] kicked a large chunk of porcelain, that looked like it had once belonged to a mug. “You should be thanking me. If I hadn't shown up when I had they'd be gone, and we'd have lost the contract. Then Sevrin really would kill you.”
manage: [Cal] chuckled and dropped their arm. Zach spun around, wrapping them in as tight a hug as he could manage. “Good to see you, Cal.”
book(s): The story was a fair way into the book and only a handful of pages. Zach tried to follow the words as Lukas read them, but each time he turned the page long before Zach reached the end, so he settled for listening to the low melodic hum of Lukas’s voice.
sculpt(ed): Zach wandered down the garden path, gravel crunching underfoot. He stopped by one of Cal’s sculpted shrubs, spotting Axel sitting alone on one of the benches, his ever-present coffee cup nowhere to be seen. 
dress: A slight woman in a patchwork dress, picked her way through the wreckage. She knelt in front of him, whispering calming words, wiping the soot from his cheeks. Zach didn't need to hear what she was saying, he simply watched her kiss the fire from his palms without flinching and scoop him up.
smile: She shot him a brief but tense smile and shuffled the papers in front of her, pulling one from the middle. “Are you aware of the charges against you, Mr. Donovan?”
want: Nathaniel sighed. Finding a foothold halfway down the wall, he eased himself back to the ground. “What could my stepfather possibly want at this hour of the morning?”
hungry: “Come on. I know you haven't been eating. You must be hungry?”
leaf/leaves: (cheating a little) Keeping his eyes on the beast before him, Lukas considered his options. He could stay and wait for it to finish him off, or he could run and still risk being mauled to death. Either way, he doubted he’d be able to jump anywhere in time. Instead, Lukas let a thin strand of shadows curl from the palm of his hand, figuring he could bind the panther and leave without hurting it.
hand: “Thomas!” Caden rushed the cell, hand outstretched. Their fingers barely met before something wrapped around Caden's neck and threw him to the ground.
night: Benjamin frowned, handing Nathaniel his discarded jacket. “That boy they caught last night, he's to go in the arena against more than a dozen infected.”
circle(d): “Too many,” Zach muttered. He circled a large cluster of names. They’d been killed relatively close together and Zach was convinced they were connected. The other names, from earlier years, he couldn’t make sense of.
spun/spin: “Wait!” Lukas took a deep breath and held the knife over his hand. He glanced up at Zachary, who'd spun around, watching the shaking tip of the blade. Lukas brought the knife down, hissing as he dragged it across his palm. Blood began to pool in his hand and he watched it, breathing through the sting. 
face: Nathaniel groaned and leaned back towards safety. The ground was higher up on the Limbus side of the wall and he could easily see the scowl on Benjamin's face. 
please: “Thomas? Thomas, say something.” Caden stretched through the bars his fingers barely grazing Thomas's disheveled hair. “Please …?”
handle: [Caden] welcomed the silence that followed her departure. The dead were so much easier to handle than the living. 
palm: “Cut your hand.” Zachary held up his own hand, pointing to a spot just above the center of his palm. “Right here.”
cough(ing): He fumbled through the cupboards for a glass, still coughing. 
inch(ed): “No.” Zach inched away. He couldn’t fight back and Lukas knew it. Any spell he cast would render him unconscious and he’d most certainly wake up with that thing clamped tight around his wrist again. This way he had a chance.
edge: Zach took a breath, his eyes stinging at the thought that someone could care this much and go to so much trouble. He sat down on the edge of the bed and buried his head in his hands.
habit(s): His knees buckled and hit the ground. Johnathan’s shadow fell across him. Caden kept his head bowed, whether from habit or exhaustion he wasn’t prepared to know.
teeth: With his teeth, he undid the knot on his bracelet. He didn’t want to use it, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He could fix it later. Undoing just enough of the bracelet he tore a small piece from it and shoved the rest in his pocket. 
center: [Caden] pulled on the first draw. For a second he thought they were locked, but he gave it a hard tug and the draw came unstuck, rattling to the end of the tracks. Little letters lined the center of each section. He skimmed the lines and found the letter he was after. Some garbage about renewable energy sources for Limbus, not that any of it would ever be put into action.
eight: “I'll explain later. Just find it. The code is five eight five two seven.” Zach reached for the key around Lukas’s neck. The chain was gone.
refuse(ed)(ing): Nope
between: “What?” Zach looked between the eight council members, none of them prepared to show him any sympathy, or mercy. “No. No you can’t! I’ll die!”
autumn: Nope
fire: [Zach’s] aim sucked but the fire was large enough that if he missed he’d save the wolves the trouble of killing him and die of embarrassment instead. He inched towards the edge of the clearing, making sure he was still concealed by the shadows, and lobbed the pouch into the air.
(a)round: Caden pressed himself against the metal, curling his fingers around the bars. “I promise, I’m gonna get you out of this, okay?” 
fence: Nope
dusk: Nope
close: Zach doubled over, whimpering at the pain coursing through his body. Lukas leaned down and scooped Zach up, cradling him close. He turned back to Emily. “Get Sophia set up in the guest room. I’ll be there in a moment.”
drop(ping): “No, I mean me. You're not supposed to be here. Remember?” He held out a hand, eyes dropping to where he knew she'd concealed the gun.
grip: Zach tugged his arm from the Shadow’s grip and moved closer to the bar.  “Since I no longer have a place of residence, consider me surprised.”
away: “Hey.” Zach pulled his attention away from the marks. “You don’t need to treat me like I’m fragile, okay? I can take a hell of a beating before I break. These,” he indicated to the bruises, “aren’t the work of someone who hates me.”
warm: Lukas dropped Zach's wrists. One hand moving behind his head, the other snaked under his shirt pressing against the small of his back pulling him closer. The contact sent a shiver up his spine and his body buzzed. For the first time in months, he felt warm.
over: “Mr Abernathy, prompt as usual.” Zach looked for the speaker. All eyes appeared to be on the council woman at the centre of the line. She turned her attention to Zach, peering over the top of her glasses. “And the ever-elusive Mr Donovan. We meet at last.”
score: Nope
thunder: Nope
growl(ed): “Lukas,” Zach growled, “we will die here if you don't unlock this.”
throw(n): “Oh, Zach.” [Sammy] rested a hand atop the monitor, flicking the switch. The screen buzzed to life, static cutting the silence. Zach squinted down at the over-exposed image. In the centre of the screen lay a twitching figure. Their head thrown back in a silent scream. The image darkened, light no longer flooding the screen. Zach lurched forward pressing his hand to the glass. “I found your little friend trying to break in. Seems he’s rather fond of you. Well, almost as fond as I am.”
slide (I got a lot of slid but not slide, so have some slid): Lukas pulled several books halfway off the shelf before finally finding the right one. He slid it across the table. “You sure you’re good to do this now?” 
faint: Nope
dirt: He scanned the pack and found his target on the furthest edge of the clearing. On her wrist was the reason he was crouched in the dirt. A thin bracelet woven from thread that shimmered in the firelight, changing colour every time the light hit it. It was all the proof Zach needed of her guilt. 
hard: Axel closed his eyes, breathing hard. “You can’t promise that. You don’t … you don’t even remember!” Axel wobbled precariously, his foot slipping before he regained his balance.
love: Sammy ran a hand under Zach’s chin, lifting his head forcing Zach to meet his gaze. “Now, who do you love?”
proud: Johnathan crouched beside the post. “Not so proud now, are we?”
(g)round: Nathaniel groaned and leaned back towards safety. The ground was higher up on the Limbus side of the wall and he could easily see the scowl on Benjamin's face. 
shake: Nope
tower(ed): “Not used to healing normally?” Lukas peered over the top of his book. Somehow, the stack in front of him had grown in the last hour and now towered precariously above them both.
anchor: Nope
next: “You so much as bring a spider into this apartment I will kick your ass from here to next Sunday.”
grasp: His skin crackled with the absence of his magic. The more he fought the block, the worse it affected him. But he didn’t care. He just wanted it to stop. Lukas was there, prising his fingers away from the band, holding them tight in his warm grasp. 
fall: “Dark Magic is not something you want to fall victim to, by an enemy or a lover.”
year: A year of searching for him and now the only thing that stood in the way was the cold metal bars. Caden longed to close the gap between them. To know he wasn’t hallucinating or in some kind of cruel dream. 
lost: Lukas had lost contact with Zachary after their first meeting. He’d begun to suspect the worst when Lyra showed up at his door, closely followed by the young witch himself.
time: The councilwoman held up her hand, silencing them both. “Tragedy aside, it does not excuse your actions. You’ve admitted your guilt and while the council has taken into account all factors, we hereby sentence you to two years imprisonment, during which time your powers will be left under a block.”
edge: “Chasing down another lead. Got stuck on the edge of the Glitch dealing with infected.” Caden nudged the nearest body with his toe. “You leave anyone alive this time?”
front: “Fair point.” Zach knelt in the grass staring straight ahead. If his hunch was right, and he was sure it was, the coven would be somewhere in front of them. He released the mouse and watched it stagger before running forward. Keeping his eyes on the mouse he straightened up and asked, “How many witches have you dealt with?” 
above: This facility hadn't been authorised for anything Infected related. Caden reached for the file only to stop, hand hovering above the paper. 
plant: Nope
break: No, he was labelled a murderer the second people saw him. He’d naively thought he’d get a break from the accusatory staring with Lukas.
tomorrow: Nope
yesterday: Nope
hug: Lukas dropped his hands and pulled Zach into a hug. Zach tensed.
end: He pulled on the first draw. For a second he thought they were locked, but he gave it a hard tug and the draw came unstuck, rattling to the end of the tracks. Little letters lined the center of each section. He skimmed the lines and found the letter he was after. Some garbage about renewable energy sources for Limbus, not that any of it would ever be put into action.
suffer: “Have you heard the story about the witch and her shadow? Of course, you have. It's the reason your people suffer, after all. She loved her Shadow. Whoever said opposites attract was a fool or a liar.”
year: “What was I supposed to say? That I'm doing her uncle on the regular? I don't think that's really appropriate conversation for a five-year-old.”
sun: “A shadow who loves the sun, who would have thought.”
play: “These are the games we have to play to survive.”
type: Em smiled. It was a kind smile, the type only a mother could give. “Come into the kitchen, we’ll let these two talk a moment.”
strap: Nope
swing(ing): “No. Neither is Sophia.” Emily smiled at her daughter. Sophia was swinging her legs, scribbling across her colouring books, not paying the slightest attention to their conversation. “I’m a telepath. But you already knew that.”
crown: Nope
beautiful: Caden hovered in the door listening to the melody Nathaniel coaxed from the piano. As beautiful as it was he couldn’t let it continue. Caden cleared his throat and the sound faded.
bright(est): “It’s a big one.” Zach had to admit, it wasn’t his brightest moment. Every other book was what anyone would class as ‘big’. To save himself further embarrassment he added, “It chronicles all witch deaths. There’s probably a few volumes.”
mother: “And who do you think taught your mother that recipe?” Mr Abernathy shouted from sitting room.
glass: The cell didn’t offer much in the way of privacy, with four glass walls and constant fluorescent lights shining down on him, his pain became a spectacle for everyone who hated witches.
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