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moral-terpitude · 2 years

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The Farrier’s Son - Tommy Shelby x male!reader

Request: yes! By anon

Word Count: 1,354

Warnings: None

You had never understood Mr. Shelby’s abrasiveness toward your when your father started bringing you around at the end of your apprenticeship.

Being the oldest son, and the one working with your father the longest, he was turning over his accounts to you, upon completion, that were the furthest drive from home, in order to remain closer to the city, and pick up new accounts the other side of Black Country. These, in turn, would be handed over to your brother upon his completion.

Mr. Shelby was usually rather standoffish, if he was around or present at all while you were there.

However, when your father stopped making the trip with you, he was always around. You chalked it up to a lack of trust. Your father had been shoeing his horses for as long as you could remember.

Today, happened to be the strangest day, because you had never actually seen Mr. Shelby ride a horse.

It had been warm all morning, and by the time you arrived in Warwickshire you’d abandoned your jacket and rolled up the sleeves of your shirt, wiping the sweat from your brow with the kerchief your mother had embroidered your initials on for you last Christmas. You had parked your father’s dark green AA truck in the round drive, pulling the canvas bag of tools and shoes over your shoulder, and grabbing the small wooden stool in your left hand, your boots crunching through the rocks before making it to the grass. As you neared the stables you struggled to hide the surprise on your face when you saw a new horse in the ring.

You pulled your cap over your face, averting your gaze from the older man as you entered the cobblestone building. Surely, by logic, yes the horses got taken out. The shoes were worn each time they were changed, however you just were never sure who did the riding.

You could see though, in his posture, the way he sat, something was incorrect. He was right handed, as far as you had realized when he sent you with the cheque once a month, signing with his right hand. However, the way he sat, everything told you he was favoring his right side, working harder with the left as he broke the new horse.

The hooves of the filly had came to a halt outside of the stable around the time you were done with the first horse as he dismounted, leading it inside.

“Is she new?” You asked, not looking up from your work as you started on the second horse.

“Yes,” he removed the saddle from the horse before lighting a cigarette, the distinct smell of tobacco filing the air.

You could feel he was watching you, your movements, but you didn’t look. You always seemed to find a weird feeling in your stomach when you looked at him, but what scared you most was that it wasn’t fear.

You had chanced a glance at watching him ride as you worked, hoping he didn’t see you.

You pried at the first nail of the second shoe, your teeth grinding, jaw locked, as you struggled. You’d done a whole set of shoes efficiently, but now that you could feel him watching you, you couldn’t think.

“You know,” he began, as you saw out of your peripheral vision he was leaned, left side against the cobblestone wall, arms crossed as the cigarette dangled from his lips, “you’re lucky. I always wanted to work with the horses. Thought I’d be doing something like this ‘round your age. Ended up in France instead.”

You swallowed hard, taking the kerchief from your back pocket once again to mop the sweat from your brow, finally meeting his eyes as you leaned back on the stool, the tension loosening in your braces as you hunched for a moment.

His entire demeanor was as cool as his eyes, and you were afraid he was going to chastise you for stopping the work, that was until you spoke.

“How long has your right hip been bothering you?”

He paused, cocking his head to the side before the cigarette had made its way back to his mouth, and his brow furrowed. He didn’t speak.

“People,” you said, returning to the task at hand, “aren’t that much different than horses, Mr. Shelby. If you watch the way they move, you don’t need them to tell you there’s a problem. You can see it.” You exhaled, fearing you’d pushed the wrong button, but you’d found that you couldn’t shut up. “I’d guess by the way your right shoulder droops and you lean to the left, even when you’re making a right turn, that you’ve been having some pain for about a month now.”

He chuckled, ashing the cigarette before he spoke, “Six weeks.”

You nodded, moving from the third shoe, “The way you lean, you won’t get relief on it from the side.”

“Doesn’t matter where I sleep,” he spoke as he paced, and you watched the way his right foot turned out, the new boots worn more on the edge than the sole on that side, “sleep in bed, sleep on the couch in me office, even slept on the floor in me office. Still hurts.”

You finished removing the fourth shoe, and stood, still at a distance from him.

“You can’t walk on the outside of the foot, you have to walk heel to toe or, even if I do fix it, it won’t be of any use.”

“Fix it?” He questioned, clearly taken aback that you were offering a solution.

You needed to stop observing him so closely, the fact that you found the way he walked and the way he talked rather interesting, the same amount of interest you gave to the broadness of his shoulders and the angle of his jaw, or you’d be getting your ass beat the same way you had during that pickup rugby game after getting tackled with a hard-on.

You nodded, trying to remain casual, with a shrug, “If you want.”

He rolled his eyes, removing his jacket and hanging it with some of the other tack on a hook, throwing his hands up in a resigned fashion as he finished the cigarette, “Not like you’ll manage to make it worse, eh?”

“Okay, turn around.”

He faced the closed door of the empty stall, calloused fingers grasping the bars and leaning back slightly as you placed the heel of your left hand above the waist of his trousers, feeling the knot that had tightened there. You applied more force, feeling it loosen as he let out a groan, before your right hand found and palmed the front of his hip, your hands pressing in opposite directions, turning and moving him with the pressure and a slight twist before you heard the definitive pop noise.

He didn’t move for a moment, his head hanging forward and the longest part of his hair falling in his face, before he finally exhaled, the breath turning into another relieved groan before he stood straight.

You hadn’t stepped back to give him room, and when he turned, you were almost nose to nose, his eyes drunk with a sense of relief.

He shook his head, a lazy smile gracing his lips, “You should at least be going to school to be a veterinarian if that’s what you can do to people.”

He side stepped you, and you returned to picking out the horses hooves, trying to convince yourself the sheen of sweat that coated you was truly from the heat, even though it was a lie.

“Do you want the filly shoed today, sir?” You asked, the moment gone and returning to normal like nothing ever happened.

He shook his head as he pulled his jacket back on, his stride slightly longer as he had went to retrieve it, “I want to get her broke before I have her shoed. Next time you’re here should be plenty of time.”

You nodded, watching him walk as far as you could see him as he went to the house to retrieve the cheque.

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#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky fucking blinders #peaky fookin blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x male reader

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theanimekid · 1 year

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War's Kindle Winters

Synopsis: War spends his first winter with you in your grandfather's cottage

Warnings: fluff, sleeping, laziness, heavy snowfall, cuddles, Soft! War

A/n: I did it for the sake of curiosity. And I'm a little proud tbh

*Flashback*

The snow had fallen to the earth, the trees were covered in a blanket of white, and little snowflakes danced in the cold air like ballerinas. You stood in the middle of the forest, A faint winter coat, gloves, snow boots, a case of arrows on your back, and your bow in hand. A deer wandered into your vision sniffing at the frozen ground, you let out a tiny sigh as smoke left your mouth, You grabbed the arrow, raised your bow at the deer, and pulled the string along with the arrow. You let go of the arrow as it flew in the air and shot at the deer's neck. The deer stumbled to the ground. You raced over to see that the deer is dead.

A dark shadow stood behind you in a menacing way, you turned around to see a demon in a dark cloak with red horns in the show. You smiled calmly knowing that it was just your grandfather, who you called since he didn’t tell you his real name. He looked around the area the sound of howling and growling filled the snowy grounds. He held out his hand, “Come now, we must head home before it gets dark.” “ Yes, Grandpa.” You answered sweetly as you dragged the dead deer with one hand and the other holding his. The two of you walked together back into your cottage in the mountain of winter.

***

It's been 25 years since then... 25 long years.

The sound of crunching snow and hooves echoed the first You and War rode side by side as you both trotted in the snow, you came to a stop at a familiar tree with a gash mark on it. You're close. " Come on, we're almost there," You said as you rode your horse past the marked tree, War soon followed you. The winds sang lowly as the flakes of snow danced in the earth. War has been by your side since he first met in The Crossroads, alone, your instincts heightened, and weapons ready at your side. He was utterly shocked to see a human wandering the dead earth for a century. Now, he's riding with you in a forest, following your lead. " It's here... after all these years it's still standing." You spoke to yourself as you stood before you the cottage in the mountain, it's like nothing changed nor touched since you left.

War went beside you as you looked at the wooden home with a little perplexity and a bit of sadness like you were here with someone before. Got off your horse, and you led her to the small stable house. War and Ruin watched you curiously as you locked up the gate in front of her horse. She walked into the buried snow towards her cottage.

War soon followed, his giant footsteps echoed through the dark room, with one swift of flame magic you first lit the empty fireplace. The fireplace blazed but soon calmed down, dancing like one small but giant light, you sighed as took off your armor and fur and lay on the small long desk. You turned to see War carefully observing since you walked in You offered your hand to him, " Come now get comfortable, we'll be here for a while. " He stared at you curiously and a little shockingly, no one in all his years of existence has ever shown this type of... feeling of genuine kindness and acceptance. He took off his armor piece by piece, except for his sword, he keeps it at all times. He followed you inside your home, and you stopped in the middle of the living room. " Wait here, I'll be right back,""You requested, as you hurriedly rushed upstairs to get him some clothes that can fit his muscular build. You came back down, with a checkered sleeve shirt and decant pants, you gave him the clothes and shoes him the way to the bathroom.

It was War's first winter with you in your grandfather's cozy cottage. As the snow fell heavily outside, the two of you huddled together inside, enjoying each other's company. War had never experienced anything like this before, and he was fascinated by the warmth of the fire and the softness of the blankets. As the days went by, War found himself becoming more and more relaxed around you. He had always been a warrior, always on the move, always ready for battle. But with you, he didn't feel the need to be constantly vigilant. He could let his guard down and just be himself.

One lazy afternoon, as the snow continued to fall outside, War found himself dozing off on the couch. You were curled up beside him, your head resting on his chest. He could feel your breaths against his skin, and he felt a sense of peace that he had never known before. As he drifted off to sleep, he found himself wondering how he had ever lived without you. You were his rock, his shelter from the storm. And he was grateful to have you in his life.

The rest of the winter passed in a blur of lazy days and cozy nights. War and you spent hours talking, laughing, and cuddling together. And as the snow melted away and spring began to bloom, War knew that he would always treasure his memories of that first winter with you in your grandfather's cottage. For War, it was a time of growth, of learning to let go of his fears and embrace the warmth of love. And he knew that he had you to thank for that. You had shown him a side of himself that he had never known before, and he was forever grateful.

#darksiders #darksiders 3 #darksiders 2 #darksiders war #war x reader #darksiders war x reader #darksiders fanfiction #darksiders imagine #darksiders ruin #darksiders x reader #war darksiders #darksiders horsemen #war #darksiders fluff

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octomomo · 1 month

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finally i can post the two ocs that i've been obsessing over for the past year without feeling like "oooh i should wait until i finish worldbuilding/get definitive names for them/make proper refs".

DAIKON and L33K!!! a vegetable DJ-in-training and a robot idol! they have mutual crushes on each other but l33k has a reputation to uphold so she bullies daikon and bosses her around a lot. (unfortunately for her, daikon is into it)

more in-depth character description/lore stuff under the cut.

daikon lore: - age 23, she/they - huge nerd about tech used for music-making - but. she cannot make good music for the life of her - l33k's biggest fan, even before she got a physical form - ended up getting a job thanks to some old colleagues who run an underground venue - initially intended to just be tech support and maintenance - turns out l33k's data and body are housed here. so. now she's her personal assistant too. she's feeling really normal about this - ended up becoming a dj-in-training (probably to get l33k's attention, i haven't decided yet) - she has a big crush on l33k and is fascinated by her on a tech level too but she wants to be respectful? but she ends up overcompensating and subservient. not so secretly enjoys l33k enforcing this role - she's pretty lonely and kind of self-conscious about how she can only really seem to relate to machinery while not wanting a very serious tech job (i.e. cyber-security or military stuff) - while dj-ing does help her get closer to l33k it does also help her get closer to her old colleagues platonically and she's glad about that but tries not to make it too obvious l33k lore: - age... uh... software has been around for 20 years? she/it - L-33000 (l33k, pronounced "leek") itself is a sapient ai software in-universe. it was eventually built a physical form: this robot body! - (not really a lore thing but the yellowgreen parts are supposed to be translucent material that you can see her cables through! it's based on actual cross-sections of leeks :D) - l33k is notoriously difficult to work with. she takes pride in this and she is a bit of a bitch (affectionate) - in her robot form she puts a lot of focus on her physical upkeep and is very high-maintenance. especially takes pride in her hair and shoes hooves - yes those are her hooves you bitch - originally had turnip (another veggie guy, not pictured) running around trying to attend to her but daikon is much more suited to the job for a number of reasons - she appreciates daikon's willingness to throw herself to the wolves on l33k's behalf but thinks she's a freak for liking it so much (it is also kind of a turn-on but she will never admit it) - (if i can be honest i'm still undecided how much sexual tension is in their relationship. my heart says "a lot" but my mind says "that's going to weird people out, in-universe and irl") - anyways. l33k wants daikon to stay backstage because 1) she's a loser and l33k considers her potentially a stain on her reputation and 2) daikon could absolutely do something to fluster her on stage and she would probably malfunction and throw the whole concert off - at the same time though. seeing daikon attempting to become a dj and failing but still having fun with it gives her complicated feelings about how l33k was created to get everything perfect the first time, and it's like... jealousy/admiration/curiosity/amusement that makes her want to see how daikon does when it comes to making music mixes and stuff - she sees kind of a parallel in daikon's hyperfixation on music technology with her own knowledge of music and performance being based on algorithms and numbers, they come from these very rigid logical fields into an art form, and they're expected to make something good... she's a little afraid of the concept of relating to her on the same level though...

thanks for reading about my gay vegetables. disclaimer: a lot of this stuff is subject to change, including their names and designs

#ocs #daikol33k

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lunar-cerulean · 1 month

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Concept art of my precious elk queen Reyna U_U

Looking back there are a lot of issues with this, like the forearm length on the left and the “tail” layering as well as many other things.

More doodles and rambling below. And yes this is my jojo oc (COUGH COUGH SELF INSERT) but furry version. I will include her normal form below the cut as well.

Here you can see the sparkly. I think I maybe did too much for the hair. I like the concept on the… hem? I don’t know clothes words. Please someone if you know anything about outfit design please help me or give me suggestions it would be GREATLY appreciated.

Some thumbnails before making the larger concept piece.

I always liked the idea of her belly being out for her maternity outfit. I have like this moon phases tattooo(?) thing on her and I really wanted to show that off. It was originally associated to her stand ability but I honestly don’t think it makes sense anymore so now it’s just aesthetic. Originally it was going to be horizontal but it was easier to draw vertical with round belly. Still very much in the concept phase of things.

Pre Dio I have two very strong and differing opinions about how Rey would dress. Either she would literally run around naked to 1. give the finger to society and 2. seduce her prey, or she would wear victorian/gothic style dresses because she likes stuff of the past. But now I have no doubt she is Dio’s lifesize Barbie doll to dress up like a little purse dog he carries around for his ego.

Anyways some more art that no one asked for

And there she is as a normal vampire. I’m stuck between both forms because both are fun to draw but I think I lean towards furry version because I like to imagine her doing that buzzy elk mew noise for attention and it’s funny.

As for why her hooves are flat. Well you see it was about a year later I gave her a proper furry design after her original design. In the original design Reyna adamantly refuses to wear shoes because one of her “combat” moves is to just grab people with her feet and slam them headfirst into the ground and she walks around on her toes autistically. But bringing that into my ungulate AU was challenging for two reasons, 1. being ungulates are already toe walkers and, 2. you don’t really see hoofed critters GRAB things with their hooves. So my solution, make her hooves flat and splayed so she can grab stuff with them. Thats the story behind her funky feet. And because they’re flat she has a sole pad on them instead of fur.

Please if you want to know anything about her or her dynamic with Dio, just ask I am literally, waiting for the day I get to open my “self insert fanfic” can of worms.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #furry jjba #furry #anthro #art #deer #elk #Jjba oc #oc #oc x canon #canon x self insert #self insert #concept design #traditional drawing #traditional #art dump

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loominggaia · 7 months

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...Despite his hatred for the old witch, Javaan still feared her power. So he bid his lovers of the night farewell as he dressed and left the tent. He fetched Glenvar and Mr. Ocean from the lake, and together the three met Morbus, waiting for them at her cottage.

“Take off your shoes before you go inside,” Morbus snapped at them as they stepped through her door. Poking Javaan in his equine chest, she added, “And you, wipe off your hooves!”

The trio did as they were told and set to work smoothing her wood floors. They kneeled down on their hands and knees and scrubbed at it vigorously with primitive sanding tools. Morbus complained at them all the while, until Glenvar finally had enough and barked, “Don’t you got somethin’ better to do, stira? Why don’t ya crack open one of yer fancy books ‘n find a cure fer Big Philly! Her time’s tickin’ away while yer bitchin’ away, ya know!”

Morbus recoiled in surprise. “How do you know about her condition?” she asked.

“The whole village knows,” replied Javaan. “It’s the talk of the town! That poor lady. She seems so nice.”

“Yes,” added Mr. Ocean, “and Dr. Che is heartbroken. I’ve never seen him in such a terrible state. I’m truly concerned for both of them.”

Their words made Morbus’ chest feel tight. She waved a dismissive hand and assured them, “Don’t worry about them, dears. It should be no surprise, really, considering the size of that woman! I mean, gods, she’s fatter than a hippopotamus! She has no one to blame for this except herself. Maybe she should have skipped the butter once in a while, hm?”

Glenvar and Javaan turned to eachother, exchanging looks of disapproval. Mr. Ocean kept his eyes on his work as he smoothed down the floor, though the expression on his face seemed to harden.

Javaan said, “I don’t know how Philly got so big, but I know she wouldn’t be that size if she could help it. Why don’t you quit judging her and put yourself to good use?”

Morbus replied, “Well, I wouldn’t have to stand here and supervise you lot if you just did your jobs correctly the first time! If this is anyone’s fault, it’s yours! Now hurry up so I can get on with my life!”

--Excerpt from "Love Poison".

Bruh the absolute NEEEEERRRRRVE of this bitch lmao.

Morbus: *maliciously poisons Big Philly into a coma*

Village: omg what happened to poor Philly??

Morbus: idk she's fat? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

Read the Series

#morbus is a fictional character but...real doctors literally do this to people #the gaslighting is real #literature #looming gaia

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sassenach77yle · 9 months

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The old lady's face froze in the midst of her animated conversation. I turned to look over my shoulder, and froze as well.

Redcoats. Dragoons, six of them, on horseback, making their way carefully down the hill toward the millhouse.With admirable presence of mind, Mrs. MacNab stood up and sat down again on top of Jamie's discarded clothes, her spreading skirts hiding everything.

.There was a splash and an explosive gasp from the millpond behind me as Jamie surfaced again. I was afraid to call out or move, for fear of attracting the dragoons' attention to the pond, but the sudden dead silence behind me told me he had seen them. The silence was broken by a single word traveling across the water, softly spoken, but heartfelt in its sincerity.

"Merde," he said.

The old lady and I sat unmoving, stone-faced, watching the soldiers come down the hill. At the last moment, as they made the final turn around the mill-house path, she turned swiftly to me and laid a stick-straight finger across her withered lips. I mustn't speak and let them hear that I was English. I didn't have time even to nod in acknowledgment before the mud-caked hooves came to a halt a few feet away.

"Good morrow to you, ladies," said the leader.

"Good morrow," she said, inclining her head. "But if ye've come for meal, I fear me ye'll be sair disappointit. The mill wheel's nae workin' just now. Perhaps next time ye come this way."

He walked down to the edge of the pond to peer at the wheel. The miller, popping up in the mill to report the latest progress with the millstone, saw him and hastily popped back down out of sight.The corporal called to one of his men.

Climbing up the slope, he gestured to the other soldier, who obligingly stooped to let the corporal climb on his back. Reaching up, he managed to catch the edge of the roof with both hands, and squirmed up onto the thatch. Standing, he could barely reach the edge of the great wheel. He reached out and rocked it with both hands. Bending down, he shouted through the window to the miller to try turning the millstone by hand.I willed myself to keep my eyes away from the bottom of the sluice. I wasn't sufficiently familiar with the workings of waterwheels to know for sure, but I was afraid that if the wheel gave way suddenly, anything near the underwater works might be crushed.

"Ye should ca' your master doon now, laddie. He'll do no good tae the mill or himsel'. Ye shouldna meddle wi' things as ye dinna understand.""Oh, you've no cause for worry, missus," said the soldier casually. "Corporal Silvers's father has a wheat mill in Hampshire. What the Corporal doesn't know about waterwheels would fit in me shoe."Mrs. MacNab and I exchanged looks of alarm.

He wandered down to the edge of the pond and stood frowning into the water. He looked just as Jamie had an hour before, and apparently for the same reason."No help for it, Collins," he said to the old trooper. "I'll have to go under and see what's holding it." He took off his scarlet coat and began to unfasten the cuffs of his shirt. I exchanged looks of horror with Mrs. MacNab. While there might be sufficient air under the millhouse for survival, certainly there was not room to hide very effectively.I was considering, not very optimistically, the chances of throwing a convincing epileptic fit, when the great wheel suddenly creaked overhead. With a sound like a tree being murdered, the big arc made a swooping half-turn, stuck for a moment, then rolled into a steady revolution, scoops merrily pouring bright streamlets into the sluice.The corporal paused in his undressing, admiring the arc of the wheel.

The dragoons had barely disappeared from sight over the brow of the hill when a splashing from the millpond heralded the rising from the depths of the resident water sprite.He was the bloodless white, blue-tinged, of Carrara marble, and his teeth chattered so hard that I could barely make out his first words, which were, in any case, in Gaelic.Mrs. MacNab had no trouble making them out, and her ancient jaw dropped. She snapped it shut, though, and made a low reverence toward the emergent laird. Seeing her, he stopped his progress toward the shore, the water still lapping modestly about his hips. He took a deep breath, clenching his teeth to stop the chattering, and plucked a streamer of duckweed off his shoulder."Mrs. MacNab," he said, bowing to his elderly tenant."Sir," she said, bowing back once again. "A fine day, is it no?""A bit b-brisk," he said, casting an eye at me. I shrugged helplessly."We're pleased to see ye back in yer home, sir, and it's our hope, the lads and mysel', as you'll soon be back to stay."

"Mine too, Mrs. MacNab," Jamie said courteously. He jerked his head at me, glaring. I smiled blandly.The old lady, ignoring this byplay, folded her gnarled hands in her lap and settled back with dignity."I've a wee favor I was wishin' to ask of your lairdship," she began, "havin' tae do wi'—""Grannie MacNab," Jamie interrupted, advancing a menacing half-step through the water, "whatever your wish is, I'll do it. Provided only that ye'll give me back my shirt before my parts fall off wi' cold."

Cap 28 kisses and drawers ~ outlander

#outlander #the frasers #jamie fraser #samheughan #outlander starz #outlanderedit #outlander fanart #outlander books #outlander series #outlander season 1 #outlander 1 x12 #jammf #outlander s1

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mrows-fan-works · 2 years

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Chapter 24

Words: 1529

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags: MORE OF WHAT YOU LOVE!!! DIALOGUE (/pos /j)

Chapter 23 and Chapter 25

Ao3 Link

“Elenor!”

She looked up frantically. Wind could see some monster blood on her hands and ax. Two hooves were missing from the corpse. Elenor seemed to be working on the horns when Wind started yelling and running towards her.

“Hylia, Wind. What? Is something wrong? What happened? Did you find your shoes?”

Elenor watched him with wide eyes as he ran up to her, breathless.

“No. I found something better!”

“I seriously doubt-” Wind shoved Roolie’s bottle into her face. Elenor went cross-eyed trying to see it.

“Is that…a bottle?”

“YES!”

Elenor blinked again. Slowly. “Um…okay? I guess we could use it for potions or water I mean-”

Wind frantically shook his head, “No, no. Look! It’s been engraved! Look! My brother had his bottles engraved just like this! He must’ve passed through here! We must be on the right track. We have to get moving!”

Elenor held up her hand in a placating gesture, “Whoa, hold on. Slow down Wind. We can’t just up and leave right now. We had a plan, remember? Plus, you still need to find your boots…”

“But he could be close by! Maybe we could catch up to him! We have to try, right? I mean…his stuff is right here he has to be nearby.” Wind hated the way his voice cracked slightly. Hope was quickly turning to desperation. Roolie was here. He had to go after him.

“Wind.” Oh he hated her expression. It was soft and full of mushy feelings. He didn’t want her pity. His pride wouldn’t allow that. He looked away in frustration.

“Wind. Look at me.” Wind glanced at her for the briefest moment out of the corner of his eye. “We will look for him. I promise that to you. But we can’t leave right now. We can leave first thing tomorrow. It’s great that your brothers are in the area, but we can’t make rash decisions in excitement.”

Frustrated tears threatened, “But-he was here Elle. What if we could catch up and-” Elenor’s hand was on his shoulder. Its constant pressure snapped him out of his thoughts for a moment. Elenor got on her knees and looked him in the eye. Wind cringe inwardly as a singular, rebellious tear traveled down his cheek. He didn’t want to cry. Hero’s weren’t supposed to cry.

Elenor didn’t mention it. Just brought him close into her signature, light hug. It made his skin tingle. His heart thudded in his ears. His face felt hot. He was happy dammit! Why was he suddenly so emotional? Roolie was close by! They could catch up.

“I’m sorry. I know we have to wait. I’m not sad. I’m just-” He finally surrendered to the embrace, burying his head into Elenor’s shoulder.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” Wind held on tighter. “Do you want to head back to the cave? I can finish up here and look for your shoes if you want.”

Wind took a moment. Then shook his head, “I can find them.” He stepped back, “Thanks Elle.”

She smiled, her hand on his shoulder, grounding him, “Just let me know when you're ready.”

He looked at her, nodding slightly, then turned back to that wretched field to find his boots.

________________________________________________

It took almost another hour to locate both boots and dig them out of the recently dried hillside. Of course his boots would be in one of the only parts of the hill that dried since the storm. Just his luck. But now, his feet wouldn’t be cold and wet anymore. That’s a plus.

Kit had shown up nearly a half hour into his search and helped him locate his boots. It only irked him a little that Kit had found his shoes before he could a half hour later. Just a little. He could never be mad at Kit. He was glad to see him again, actually. He’d been worried when Kit went missing after the battle.

Elenor greeted Kit as if he wasn’t missing for the last several days. Kit meowed and gerumph at her. Elenor played along, having a small conversation with him as she finished hacking the horns off the lynel they had slain.

It was evening before they returned back to the cave. Kit ran off into the trees as they made their trek back. Wind almost went to grab Kit and bring him back with them but Elenor stopped him.

“He’ll be okay. He probably has something he wants to grab. He’ll be back.”

Wind watched as Kit disappeared into the foliage, “Alright then.”

Ironically, Wind and Elenor both had to make their way back to the river to clean up after their activities. Wind didn’t totally mind, he loved the water. But afterwards he felt run down. Roolie’s bottle weighed heavily on his belt. It’s implications simmered in the back of his mind, but he was too exhausted to go over all the scenarios in his head. Right now all he wanted to do was eat, sleep, and get moving first thing tomorrow.

Wind was dragging his feet as the cave came into view. Never before had a dingy hole seemed so welcoming. If any of his brothers had forced him to sleep in one before this journey he would have insisted on sleeping somewhere else. Bottom line, he’d have been vocal about his displeasure at sleeping in a dirty cave lived in by another animal.

But no longer. Dirt was dirt was dirt he could sleep on. He’d matured. If Legend could see him now. Hylia, how far his standards of comfort had fallen. It was almost sad. But at the moment Wind didn’t care. He simply dragged his feet over to his fur cloak that had been drying all day and flopped onto his back, arm over his eyes. It was only slightly damp at this point.

“You okay?”

Wind groaned in response, flipping onto his stomach to keep the light out of his eyes.

“‘M tired again is all. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s still pretty early. Do you need to sleep some more?”

Wind frowned into his fur, “No.” He didn’t need more sleep. He’d slept in already today. Shouldn’t that be enough? He forced himself back up from his comfy position and shook his head vigorously. No need for sleep.

He looked up to Elenor’s inquisitive look. He couldn’ read her expression.

“Wanna help with dinner?”

Wind blinked, then shrugged. “Sure.”

“Then you, my good sir, are on wood duty. Chop chop my friend.”

Wind laughed at her light tone. “Aye aye captain.” He grabbed his sword, and walked towards the nearby trees.

“Hold on Wind!” He stopped and looked back to see Elenor walking up with his bow and small quiver in hand. “You’re going to want these. We’re running low on food. If you see anything and have a good shot we can eat it for dinner.” She noticed his troubled expression and quickly added, “Don’t worry if you can’t though! I’m going out as well to hunt for a bit. I just figured I should mention it and well..” She scratched the back of her head sheepishly, “two eyes are better than one?”

Wind looked at the bow before taking it slowly, “Well that makes sense. I’m not the best shot but I’ll try if I get the chance.”

“That’s all I’m asking. You don’t have to if you don't want to. Chances are I’ll get something anyway. So no worries either way okay?”

Wind nodded. He put his bow over his shoulder and arrows at his hip, just like Wild. He had to practice anyway. Wild was the best archer ever. Wind wanted to be at least halfway decent before showing him his skills. That meant practice. Which meant that Squeaker the squirrel’s days were numbered.

Gathering wood was easy enough. The trees had been drying for most of the day so much of the wood that was soaked the day before was somewhat dry by now. Soon, Wind had a modest bundle of sticks and brambles that would last them through the night. Strangely enough, besides the passing songbird, Wind caught no signs of game large enough to eat. And Wind wasn’t skilled enough nor did he want to eat a bird. They were precious.

A jolt of apprehension went through him. What if Elenor brought home a bird for dinner? He may actually cry. If she didn’t, and he sincerely hoped she wouldn’t, Wind would have to let her know about this boundary. Communication and all that. And-his thoughts stopped for a moment. He continued to walk, lost for a moment. Wind was continuing to notice just how much he’d changed. Before, admitting that something bothered him made him feel weak. Therefore he never said anything. He had swallowed his discomfort and went along with it. His brothers were doing it okay, why couldn’t he?

When exactly did that change? Wind didn’t know. The cave came into view as he exited the trees. He put that thought away for later. Right next to his swirling anxieties about Hyrule. He had time to compartmentalize and sort through feelings after dinner, right?

Right.

#true courage #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu wind #linked universe fanfic #GUYS FORGIVE ME I HAD A PAPER TO WRITE AND FORGOT TO POST YESTERDAY HNNNGNGGG

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trinity-mia · 4 months

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a story as endless as the ocean

the lightning thief

1.9 creating life-long grudges

warnings : large-scale sword fight, mention of injuries, ares is also angry, cussing, mention of guns (that aren't actually guns)

word count : 3.7k

1.9 Thank the Gods for All Those Years of Sword Training Because... Yikes

A Coast Guard boat picked us up, but thankfully they were too busy to keep us for long, or to wonder how three kids in street clothes had gotten out into the middle of the bay. Or why my backpack had been completely dry (yes, I was going to compromise everything just so nothing of mine would get ruined. Call me shallow, I don't care). They probably thought our boat had capsized or something. Anyway, there was a disaster to mop up. Their radios were jammed with distress calls. They didn't have time to worry about us. Or about me being me, which I was pretty stoked about.

They dropped us off at the Santa Monica Pier with towels around our shoulders and water bottles that said I'M A JUNIOR COAST GUARD! and sped off to save more people.

Our clothes were sopping wet, even mine. When the Coast Guard boat had appeared, I'd silently prayed they wouldn't pick me out of the water and find me perfectly dry, which might've raised some eyebrows. So, I'd willed myself to get soaked. Sure enough, my usual waterproof magic had abandoned me, sparing only my Louis backpack.

Luke was barefoot, having given his shoes to Grover to cover up his hooves after his shoes disappeared somewhere in the ocean. Better the Coast Guard wonder why one of us was barefoot than wonder why one of us had hooves.

After reaching dry land, we stumbled down the beach, watching the city burn against a beautiful sunrise. I felt as if I'd just come back from the dead— which I guess I technically had. My backpack was heavy with Zeus's master bolt. My heart was even heavier from seeing my mother. It felt like I had abandoned her, even though she'd have been pissed at me if I'd chosen her over one of my friends or myself.

"I don't believe it," Luke said. "We went all that way—"

"It was a trick," I interrupted him. "A strategy worthy of Athena. You get it right? You know what happened?"

"I know," he grimaced, eyes dropping to the ground. "I get it."

"Well, I don't!" Grover complained. "Would somebody—"

"Allie..." Luke murmured, reaching out to touch my shoulder lightly. "I'm sorry about your mother. I'm so sorry..."

"The prophecy was right," I said instead, dusting off my wet skirt uselessly. "'You shall go west and face the god who has turned.' But it wasn't Hades. Hades didn't want war among the Big Three. Someone else pulled off the theft. Someone stole Zeus's master bolt, and Hades' helm, and framed me because I'm Poseidon's daughter. Poseidon will get blamed by both sides. By sundown today, there will be a three-way war. And I'll have caused it." Luke pulled me into a hug and it took everything in me to keep from crying.

Grover shook his head, mystified. "But who would be that sneaky? Who would want a war that bad?"

I stopped in my tracks, staring grimly down the beach. "Gee, let me think about that for a fucking moment."

There he was, waiting for us, in his black leather duster and his sunglasses, an aluminum baseball bat propped on his shoulder. His motorcycle rumbled beside him, its headlight turning the sand red.

"Hey, kid," Ares said, seeming genuinely pleased to see me. "You were supposed to die."

"You tricked me," I accused, rage welling up in my chest. "You stole the helm and the master bolt."

Ares grinned. "Well, now, I didn't steal them personally. Gods taking each other's symbols of power, that's a big no-no. But you're not the only hero in the world who can run errands."

"Who did you use? One of your kids? Clarisse was at the winter solstice, but she would never have done something like that. She's a good person. I suppose she must get it from her mother's side."

My statement seemed to amuse him. "Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've got to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus'll be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this..."

From his pocket, he took out a ski cap, the kind that bank robbers wear, and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. Immediately, the cap transformed into an elaborate bronze war helmet.

"The helm of darkness," Grover gasped.

"Exactly," Ares said. "Now, where was I? Oh yeah, Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn't know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going."

"You fucking bastard!" I cried furiously. I had never been so pissed off in my life, both with Ares and myself. I had played right into his trap.

"But this war will tear the world apart!" Luke protested.

Ares shrugged. "Best kind of war. The bloodier the better, I always say."

"You gave me the backpack in Denver," I crossed my arms in front of my chest to keep myself from leaping at him with my bare hands. "The master bolt was in there the whole time."

"Yes and no," Ares said. "It's probably too complicated for your little mortal brain to follow, but the backpack is the master bolt's sheath, just morphed a bit. The bolt is connected to it, sort of like those swords you got, kid. They always return to you, right?"

I wasn't sure how Ares knew about that, but I guess that a god of war had to make it his business to know about weapons.

"Anyway," Ares continued, "I tinkered with the magic a bit, so the bolt would only return to the sheath once you reached the Underworld. You get close to Hades... Bingo, you got mail. If you died along the way, no big loss. I still had the weapon."

"But why not just keep the master bolt for yourself?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Why send it to Hades?"

Ares got a twitch in his jaw. For a moment, it was almost as if he were listening to another voice, deep inside his head. "Why didn't I... yeah... with that kind of firepower..."

He held the trance for one second... two seconds...

I exchanged confused and nervous looks with Luke who was gripping his own sword pommel tensely.

Ares' expression cleared. "I didn't want the trouble. Better to have you caught red-handed, holding the thing."

"You're lying," I declared. "Sending the bolt to the Underworld wasn't your idea, was it?"

"Of course it was!" He snarled as smoke drifted up from his sunglasses, making it seem as if they were about to catch fire.

"You didn't order the theft," I guessed. "Someone else sent a hero to steal the two items. Then, when Zeus sent you to hunt him down, you caught the thief. But you didn't turn them over to Zeus. Something convinced you to let them go. You kept the items until another hero could come along and complete the delivery. That thing in the pit is ordering you around."

"I am the god of war! I take orders from no one! I don't have dreams!"

I hesitated at that. Then I gave him a half-smile that said 'I won.' "Who said anything about dreams?"

Ares looked agitated, but he tried to cover it with a smirk. "Let's get back to the problem at hand, sugar. You're alive. I can't have you taking that bolt to Olympus. You just might get those hard-headed idiots to listen to you. So I've got to kill you. Nothing personal."

He snapped his fingers. The sand exploded at his feet and out charged a wild boar, even larger and uglier than the one whose head hung above the door of cabin seven at Camp Half-Blood. The beast pawed the sand, glaring at me with beady eyes as it lowered its razor-sharp tusks and waited for the command to kill.

I stepped into the surf, taking strength from the ocean swirling around my feet. "Fight me yourself, Ares."

He laughed, but I heard a little edge to his laughter... an uneasiness. "You've only got one talent, kid, running away. You ran from Echidna. You ran from the Underworld. You don't have what it takes."

"Try me," I retorted, grabbing my swords and falling into the familiar attack/defense position I had first been taught, then drilled into my head until it was second nature.

"Angel," Luke muttered.

"Stay back," I replied softly. "I got this, I promise."

"No direct involvement," Ares drawled, the heat from his eyes melting his sunglasses. "Sorry, sugar. You're not at my level."

"Allie, run!" Luke cried, just as the giant boar charged.

But I was done running from monsters. Or Hades, or Ares, or anybody. As the boar rushed me, I sidestepped and slashed upward. The boar's severed right tusk fell at my feet, while the disoriented animal charged into the sea.

"Wave!" I shouted.

Immediately, a wave surged up from nowhere and engulfed the boar, wrapping around it like a blanket. The beast squealed once in terror. Then it was gone, swallowed by the sea.

I turned back to Ares. "Are you going to fight me now?" I asked. "Or are you going to hide behind another pet?"

Ares' face was purple with rage. "Watch it, kid. I could turn you into—"

"A dolphin," I suggested scornfully. "Or a seahorse? Yeah, I'm fucking sure. That'd save you from getting your godly ass whipped, wouldn't it?"

Flames danced along the top of his glasses. "Oh, man, you are really asking to be smashed into a grease spot."

"If I lose, turn me into anything you want. Take the bolt. If I win, the helm and the bolt are mine and you can go fuck yourself."

Ares sneered and swung the baseball bat off his shoulder. "How would you like to get smashed: classic or modern?"

I showed him my swords.

"That's cool, gorgeous," he said. "Classic it is." The baseball bat morphed into a large, two-handed sword. It was probably the size of me with a hilt shaped like a large silver skull with a ruby in its mouth.

"Angel," Luke begged. "Don't do this. He's a god."

"He's a coward," I told him, lifting my head determinedly.

He swallowed. "Take this, at least. For luck." With that, he took off his camp necklace and tied it around my neck. He looked like he wanted to do something else, then thought better of it.

"Thanks. I'll win this. Don't worry about me."

"And take this," Grover added. He handed me a flattened tin can that he had probably been saving in his pocket for a thousand miles. "The satyrs stand behind you."

"Grover... I don't know what to say."

He patted me on the shoulder. I stuffed the tin can in my back pocket.

"Are you all done saying good-bye?" Ares came toward me, his black leather duster trailing behind him, his sword glinting like fire in the sunrise. "I've been fighting for eternity, honey. My strength is unlimited and I cannot die. What have you got?"

A smaller ego, I thought in a snarky tone of voice, but I said nothing. I kept my feet in the surf, backing into the water up to my ankles, accepting the strength it gave me.

Ares charged at me and cleaved downward at my head, but I wasn't there.

My body thought for me. The water seemed to push me into the air and I catapulted over him, slashing as I came down. But Ares was just as quick. He twisted, and the strike that should've caught him directly in the spine was deflected off the end of his sword hilt.

He grinned. "Not bad, not bad."

He slashed again and I was forced to jump onto dry land. I tried to sidestep, to get back to the water, but Ares seemed to know what I wanted. He out-maneuvered me, pressing so hard I had to put all my concentration on not getting sliced into pieces. I kept backing away from the surf. I couldn't find any openings to attack. His sword had a reach several feet longer than Riptide and Shaker.

Get in close, Luke had told me once, back in our sword class. When you've got the shorter blade, get in close.

I stepped inside with a thrust, but Ares was waiting for that. He knocked Riptide out of my hands and kicked me in the chest. I recognized the feeling of my ribs breaking, at least four of them, as I went airborne. I flew twenty, maybe thirty feet. I would have broken my back if I hadn't crashed into the soft sand of a dune.

"Allie!" Luke yelled in warning. "Cops!"

I was seeing double. My chest felt like it had just been hit with a battering ram, but I managed to get to my feet.

I couldn't look away from Ares for fear he'd slice me in half, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw red lights flashing on the shoreline boulevard. Car doors were slamming.

"There, officer!" somebody yelled. "See?"

A gruff cop voice: "Is that Allie Jackson? What the heck...?"

"That guy's armed," another cop said. "Call for backup. We need to get her out of there."

I rolled to one side as Ares' blade slashed the sand. I lunged desperately for my sword, scooped it up, and launched a swipe at Ares' face, only for my blade to be deflected again.

Ares seemed to know exactly what I was going to do the moment before I did it. Damn him to Tartarus for being a god. Cheaters in every sense of the word.

I stepped back toward the surf, forcing him to follow.

"Admit it, kid," Ares smirked. "You got no hope. I'm just toying with you."

My senses were working overtime. I now understood what the others had told me about ADHD keeping you alive in battle. I was wide awake, noticing every little detail.

I could see where Ares was tensing. I could tell which way he would strike. At the same time, I was aware of Luke and Grover, thirty feet to my left. I saw a second cop car pulling up, siren wailing.

Spectators, people who had been wandering the streets because of the earthquake, were starting to gather. Among the crowd, I thought I saw a few who were walking with the strange, trotting gait of disguised satyrs. There were shimmering forms of spirits, too, as if the dead had risen from Hades to watch the battle. I heard the flap of leathery wings circling somewhere above. And more sirens of course.

I stepped farther into the water, but Ares was fast. The tip of his blade ripped my sleeve and grazed my forearm.

A police voice on a megaphone said, "Drop the guns. Set them on the ground. Now!"

What guns?

When I next looked at Ares's weapon, it seemed to be flickering; sometimes it looked like a shotgun, sometimes the true form of a sword. I didn't know what the mortals were seeing in my hands, but I was pretty sure it wasn't something that'd work in my favor.

Ares turned to glare at our spectators, which gave me a moment to breathe. There were five police cars now, and a line of officers crouching behind them, pistols trained on us.

"This is a private matter!" Ares bellowed. "Begone."

He swept his hand, and a wall of red flame rolled across the patrol cars. The police barely had time to dive for cover before their vehicles exploded. The crowd behind them scattered, screaming.

"You son of a bitch," I hissed at him.

Ares roared with laughter, his sides shaking. "Now, sugar, it's time to add you to this barbecue."

He slashed. I somehow managed to deflect his blade. Then I got close enough to strike and tried to fake him out with a feint, but my blow was knocked aside. The waves were hitting me in the back now. Ares was up to his thighs, wading in after me.

I felt the comforting rhythm of the sea, the waves growing larger as the tide rolled in, and suddenly I had an idea. Little waves, I thought. And the water behind me seemed to recede. I was holding back the tide by sheer force of will, but tension was building, like carbonation behind a cork. And it was hard. I wouldn't be able to hold this for long.

Ares came toward, grinning confidently, as if he had already won the battle. I lowered my blades, as if I were too exhausted to go on. I wasn't quite done yet though.

Wait for it, I instructed the sea. The pressure now was almost lifting me off my feet, I was going through a cycle of getting worn out and being reinvigorated again. Ares raised his sword. That was when I released the tide and jumped, rocketing straight over Ares on a wave. Thank the gods I knew how to surf.

A six-foot wall of water smashed him full in the face, leaving him cursing and sputtering with a mouth full of seaweed. I landed behind him with a splash and feinted toward his head, as I'd done before. He turned in time to raise his sword, but this time he was too disoriented, and he didn't anticipate the trick. I changed direction, lunged to the side, and stabbed Riptide and Shaker straight down into the water, sending the point through the god's heels.

The roar that followed the wound made Hades' earthquake look like a minor event. The very sea was blasted back from Ares, leaving a wet circle of sand fifty feet wide.

Ichor, the golden blood of the gods, flowed from a gash in the war god's boots. The expression on his face was beyond hatred. It was pain, shock, complete disbelief that he'd been wounded. I felt a surge of incredulousness that he was reacting so melodramatically to such tiny wounds. I had most of my ribs broken, risking a lung puncture and I was still fighting. I hadn't even 'umphed'. Ares would never make it as a demigod. Then again, those ribs were healed now because of the water, so I did have that going for me. Still, though. Talk about dramatic.

He limped toward me, muttering ancient Greek curses.

Something stopped him.

It was as if a cloud covered the sun, but worse. Light faded. Sound and color drained away. A cold, heavy presence passed over the beach, slowing time, dropping the temperature to freezing, and making me feel like life was hopeless, fighting was useless. I hadn't felt like that in a long, long time.

Then, thank Olympus, the horrible darkness lifted.

Ares looked stunned.

Police cars were burning behind us. The crowd of spectators had fled. Luke and Grover stood on the beach in shock, watching the water flood back around Ares's feet, his glowing golden ichor dissipating in the tide.

Ares lowered his sword.

"You have made an enemy, godling," he warned me. "You have sealed your fate. Every time you raise your blades in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Astraea Jackson. Beware."

"You did that to your own damn self. Don't think challenging someone you can't beat is a good idea." I also think mocking Ares was a good idea, but I was too pissed to think about that.

His body began to glow.

"Allie!" Luke shouted. "Don't watch!"

I turned away as Ares revealed his true immortal form. I somehow knew that if I looked, I would disintegrate into ashes. After what seemed like an eternity, the light died.

When I looked back Ares was gone. The tide rolled out to reveal Hades' bronze helm of darkness. I picked it up and walked toward my friends.

But before I got there, I heard the flapping of leathery wings. The three Furies with lace hats and fiery whips drifted down from the sky and landed in front of me.

The middle Fury, the one who had been Mrs. Dodds, stepped forward. Her fangs were bared, but for once she didn't look threatening. She looked more disappointed, as if she'd been planning to have me for supper, but had decided I might give her indigestion.

"We saw the whole thing," she hissed. "So... it truly was not you?"

I tossed her the helmet roughly, which she caught in surprise.

"Return that to Lord Hades," I instructed her curtly. "Tell him the truth. Tell him to call off the war. Also, tell him I told him I wasn't in New York and maybe he should listen to me more often if this is going to be a common occurrence."

She hesitated, then ran a forked tongue over her green, leathery lips. "Live well, Allie Jackson. Become a true hero. Because if you do not, if you ever come into my clutches again..."

She cackled, savoring the idea. Then she and her sisters rose on their bats' wings, fluttered into the smoke-filled sky, and disappeared.

I joined Grover and Luke, who were staring at me in amazement.

"Allie..." Grover said. "That was so incredibly..."

"Terrifying," said Luke.

"Cool!" Grover corrected.

I didn't feel terrified. I certainly didn't feel cool. I was tired and sore and completely drained of energy. Despite that, I managed to give Luke his necklace back and Grover his tin can, which I knew he'd want to eat.

"Did you guys feel that... whatever it was?" I asked.

They both nodded uneasily.

"Must've been the Furies overhead," Grover said hopefully.

But I wasn't so sure. Something had stopped Ares from killing me, and whatever could do that was a lot stronger than the Furies.

I looked at Luke, and an understanding passed between us. I knew now what was in that pit, what had spoken from the entrance of Tartarus.

I reclaimed the damn backpack from Grover and looked inside. The master bolt was still there. Such a small thing to almost cause World War III.

"We have to get back to New York," I said heavily. "By tonight."

"That's impossible," Luke protested, "Unless we—"

"Fly," I finished. Have I ever mentioned just how much I hate my life? In case I haven't, let me do so right now. I really, really hate my life.

He stared flatly at me. "Fly, like, in an airplane, which you were warned never to do again, lest Zeus strike you out of the sky, and carrying a weapon that has more destructive power than a nuclear bomb?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "Pretty much exactly like that. Come on, let's go die a fiery, hopefully quick, death."

* * *

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SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

#asaeato #a story as endless as the ocean #alliejackson #female percy jackson #lukecastellan #lullie #trinitymia

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grizzlyofthesea · 1 year

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Ranking my Monster High Collection, just because

I've been into Monster High for...a while. I don't remember how I got into it, but I know that I immediately latched onto Lagoona; I always go for the blue characters (except for TMNT, because Donnie). Though it's not huge compared to what others have, I do have a sizable collection of Monster High dolls. Here, I'll rank and discuss them.

Here's a key for the meaning of the colors: birthday/Christmas gift, bought during initial sales, bought second-hand.

S Tier - The Best of the Best

Boo-Riginal Creeproduction Lagoona - I'd always wanted a first-wave Lagoona, but this is even better! Her hair is curly and fluffy, she isn't derp-eyed, and I didn't have to fork over hundreds of dollars for her! There are so many cool details scattered throughout her design, too. For example, her tank top? That's actually a one-piece swimsuit. And her shorts are sparkly! I was lucky to find her and the other creepros at my local Walmart during the initial drop. Wish I could say the same about Reel Drama...

Haunt Couture Lagoona - Man, was I lucky with this one! She sold out in about six minutes, from what I heard. But anyway, people don't like her because she doesn't reference her basic look as much as the others, and I get why they feel that way. However, I feel like she looks the most "deluxe" of the HC line (except for Draculaura, because OF COURSE), and the most couture-like. Her outfit is the only one I could see on an actual fashion runway. And her face is super pretty! I like how they gave her eyes a more segmented look instead of the other ghouls' gradient shine. Oh, and her fish GLOWS IN THE DARK.

Boo-riginal Creeproduction Clawdeen - I'm not particularly attached to Clawdeen as a character, but her design? Beautiful. There are so many flashy elements--the tank top with its sparkly tiger stripes, the fur-lined jacket, the layered skirt, the knee-high stockings--that you'd think would clash, but they really work well together. And like Lagoona, Creepro Clawdeen has wavier, fluffier hair than her 2010 counterpart. Perfect for our "werewolf equivalent of Rapunzel."

School's Out Lagoona - I adore the shoes and tote bag. The material they're made of is super satisfying to touch. The outfit itself is amazing, too. The asymmetrical fishnet details really complement the strapless jumpsuit. It feels fancy and hip, but still Lagoona-like. And the fish skeleton earrings are just amazing!!!

Isi Dawndancer - From what I've heard, Isi is controversial because Mattel combined elements from a ton of different tribes to construct her without consulting any actual American Indians, homogenizing/stereotyping them in the process. I can't say that I have much room to speak on the matter, just that I definitely get why people find her offensive. But good gosh, I can't help but love how colorful she is. And her deer-like features, like her white freckles and her hooves (yes, actual hooves instead of feet!!!)? Absolutely amazing. If she comes back for G3, I hope they handle her more respectfully.

C.A. Cupid (Signature) - Beautiful in every way. Her face? Amazing. The heart-shaped highlights in her eyes are super cool, her heart/rosebud-shaped lipstick really stands out, and the blush on her cheeks is a great touch. Her outfit? Spectacular. All of the fabrics work well to give her dress an eerie yet romantic vibe. Her accessories? Perfect. It's bow-and-arrow everything; her earrings and the heels on her shoes are an asymmetrical bow/arrow set, and her ring is a miniature bow and arrow. Her hair? Needs de-gluing and restyling, but it's still lovely. Shorter hair on Monster High dolls is always awesome. She also has this really cool white-to-black gradient on all of her limbs, plus some lacy detailing. You just need to see her to believe her.

Boo-riginal Creeproduction Draculaura - Pink isn't really my thing, but I can't deny that Draculaura looks cool. Her vest and her cravat are probably my favorite parts of her outfit. I also like how neatly folded her skirt is, compared to Clawdeen's more irregular pleats. Oh, and I de-glued her bangs when I got her, and she looks SO much better that way!

A Tier - The Clawsomes

Mad Science Lagoona - Her hair was an absolute mess when I first got her--tangled beyond belief, glue everywhere, braids partially undone... But I've done my best to restore her, and I think she looks better now. I just love her in general. Both her dress and her casual outfit look cute, and the accessories are on point. She has a notebook, a pencil, a beaker, one of those three-eyed frogs from the webisodes, and a gargoyle egg, among other things.

Dead Tired Lagoona (2011) - Yes, I've got the Hydration Station, too. Yes, it's amazing...when it works. I think I might need to replace the batteries and/or clean it. (Any tips? I'll take all the help I can get!!) But right now, I'm talking about Lagoona herself. She may be simple, but she's great. Her blue lips really do feel like her natural lip color, and her ponytail is a nice hairstyle. Her pajamas look really comfy, too (minus the platform slippers, but that's just MH custom), and she even has a matching sleep mask. I'd wear them myself if I were more of a tank top person. Neptuna has a little mask of her own as well. That's just cute. :)

Boo-riginal Creeproduction Frankie - Pretty simple, but also super cute. I love her fishnet sleeves and her belt. G1 Frankie really is the epitome of "simple, but effective."

Skull Shores Cleo - What can I say? I'm a sucker for turquoise and gold. I like short hair on Cleo, too. Oh, and her shoes being little statues holding her feet up? Absolute genius.

Skull Shores Ghoulia - She looks just like she stepped out of the 1950s...except for the blood dripping from her shoes and bracelet, of course, but that contrast is why I love a lot of Ghoulia's designs. Her weird little brain butterfly hair clip is neat, too, and I like how she has green glasses this time around.

Skull Shores Lagoona - Her headband gives me pirate vibes for some reason, and that sparkly fabric around her shoulders never ceases to amaze. Needless to say, I love her.

Skull Shores Frankie (Color) - Frankie in neon blue is awesome. Frankie with short hair is awesome. The industrial nut-themed accessories are awesome. That sounds like a recipe for an awesome doll to me.

Skull Shores Frankie (Monochrome) - The silver lipstick, neck bolts, and swimsuit add some flash where Frankie herself is a matte gray. There are also more obvious clouds on her waist wrap compared to her color variant, adding a bit of additional uniqueness. I just happen to like the color variant a bit more. I think it's because the accessories here are cloudy instead of clear.

B Tier - The Greats

Dot Dead Gorgeous Lagoona - Hot take: I think DDG Lagoona is better than DOTD Lagoona. But that's a ramble for another post. Anyway, the oyster-themed hair clip and shoes are cute, and I love how the polka dots on the dress are bubbles. The layers of mesh/tulle/whatever really pull the whole look together. And the purse is a sand dollar!!!

13 Wishes Lagoona - Super strange and kind of heartbreaking, but also super cool to look at. I love her turtle necklace/bracelet, her dragonfly earrings, and her grass shoes. And that sparkly seafoam green fabric on her dress? Absolutely perfect! It looks just like shimmering water. She'd be higher up if she were in better condition; her dress is kinda stretched out, and Neptuna's bowl is shoddily taped together because I was a dumb child.

Fearidescent Lagoona - Blue Lagoona > Pink Lagoona for me, and the polypropylene hair is a bit frizzy at the ends. That said, she's still beautiful. For one, her color scheme is gorgeous. It's one of the first color palettes chosen for G3 Lagoona that doesn't make me want to tear my eyeballs out. Her pearl purse is cute, too, as are her shoes. I mean, her ankle boots have little teeth in the heels and fish skeletons as the buckles! Some clothing combinations are more cohesive than others, but again, not making me want to claw out my own eyes out of overstimulation is a huge advantage for a G3 Lagoona doll.

Skull Shores Gil - I know people give the boy dolls major flak for being ugly, and a lot of times, they're right (looking at you, Porter and Slo Mo). But I just think Gil's neat. I like how he has gills sculpted into his nose. I like the gills on his neck. I like how he has that same pearlescent kind of coloration as Lagoona. I like his fin mohawk thing. I think my Gil's face turned out nicely, too, with no notable wonk in sight. (Note: someone on Reddit recently pointed out that he has a back fin, too. That cements Gil as the best manster in my opinion.)

Picture Day Lagoona - Like Basic Clawdeen, she has a lot of bright, flashy components that you'd think would clash. Fishnet cardigan? Shimmery pink leggings? Turquoise tunic dress with a neon green trim and an iridescent orange seashell bra? It is admittedly a strange look, but I like it.

Skulltimate Secrets Lagoona - The darker/more prominent forehead scales push SS1 Lagoona below Fearidescent for me, but there's still a ton to love about her. Her jacket and hat are some of my favorite accessories in my entire collection; they're just so cute! Her blue "Surf" shirt is great as well, and I feel that all of the clothing pieces included here can create decently good-looking outfits.

Skull Shores Draculaura - Just cute. I love the sailor theme, and I love how her swimsuit kind of looks like men's swimsuits from back in the late 19th century.

Skull Shores Abbey - Her swimsuit may be a bit simple for my liking, but her accessories are astounding! Purple ice shoes? Yes! Purple ice hat? Heck yeah! She rocks the side-ponytail, too.

Skull Shores Clawdeen - I love the actual swimsuit, and the poncho is great in concept. I just wish the poncho wasn't so annoying to move around for poses. But Clawdeen's tried-and-true deep orchid purple + neon green color combo is back, and I think it works amazingly here. Her earrings are cool, too. They may just be simple triangles and squares, but it's a neat deviation from her typical hoop earrings.

C Tier - The Goods Competing with the Greats

Original Ghouls Ghoulia - Not first-wave quality, but she still has her good points. Her hair is nice and silky (probably kanekalon), all her accessories are intact, and I honestly like her face better than first-wave Ghoulia. Still, her clothes all being one piece is a let-down, and they didn't even bother to wrap her cherry-print top (printed on this time, by the way) all the way around the shirt. But she's still Ghoulia, so she's still cool.

Dance Class Lagoona - She's cute, but also very simplistic. Even as a kid, I knew something was off about her unpainted accessories. Even so, I love her, and I retain a special attachment to her since she was the first member of my collection.

Inner Monster (Shockingly Shy/Scared Silly) - I like the take apart/put together gimmick. I like the changing eyes and the face plates. I like the skeleton and the different charms you can attach to it. I just wish she was more monstrous...and that the wig didn't look so awful.

Original Ghouls Lagoona - I got her back when I thought she was the closest I'd get to an actual Basic Lagoona, and even though my opinion of her has hardened a bit after getting Creepro Lagoona, I still think she's okay. I don't like how her swimsuit and shorts are sewn together, but at least there's a ribbon "waistband" separating the two halves. Her hoodie might be slightly less detailed, too, but it's still perfectly fine. Mad Science Lagoona is borrowing her fins, though.

D Tier - Mattel, why?

Original Ghouls Clawdeen - Her face turned out okay...but that's really it. Her shoes are completely purple aside from the buckles, her shirt and skirt are sewn together, and her jacket has purple thread at the edges instead of an actual cotton trim. And that isn't even getting into the more minute changes. At least she isn't as bad as Original Ghouls Draculaura, but that's a low bar to clear. ...Yet I don't hate her. Pity, yes, but I just can't hate her.

#monster high #mh #monster high g1 #monster high collection #I make way too many lists #super long post #monster high g3

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theshelbyclan · 3 years

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Happy Birthday!

Summary: It’s your birthday! And the Shelby brothers refuse to let another one of their baby sister’s birthday go by without some proper celebrating.

(Gif by @benson-shelby) A/N: It’s actually my birthday today, but due to quarantine I can’t really celebrate it with anyone. So I decided to celebrate with the Shelby’s! Via this little fic, purely self-indulgent, to cheer myself up and to remember some great birthdays I had in the past ;) Set in season 1, you’re just a few years younger than John. Words: 1710 *** “John, get her tea.” “I thought you had the tea.” “Well, then get the milk!” urgent whispers sounded in the hallway.

“I’m not your bloody maid, am I, Ada,” John spat not so quietly in return.

You were lying in bed, awake for hours already. This was the day you’d become a woman, or so Ada had said, but still, your siblings were bickering like little children. It brought a smile to your face. Another annoyed grumble, “Shhh, you’re going to wake her up!” “Am not,” he hissed, “I got your fucking milk, didn’t I!” “Oi!” another low voice joined in, “Ada, you really need to take a look at the toast.” “What about the toast, Arthur?” “Burned it,” he mumbled and you could hear John giggle softly in the dark. Ada sighed deeply, “For fucks sake, fine, I’ll do it. Wait here.” As the least subtle brothers in the world shuffled about in the hallway, you thought of your other birthdays. When you were little, they were celebrated with mum and everyone gathered. During the war, no one paid attention to birthdays any longer. And now, after the war, people tried to get their lives back on track. Only last week you’d made sure Finn had gotten a birthday he’d never forget. And now they tried to return the favour, obviously. Another few minutes and about a thousands curses passed, when they finally tiptoed into the room. Closing your eyes, you decided to play along. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Slowly you sat up and put on a groggy voice, “What are you doing in here?” “You are the worst actor ever, Y/N,” John grinned. “Am I?” you feigned innocence. Ada handed you a cup of tea as John plopped down onto bed next to you, “Did you hear about Arthur burning the toast then?” “I didn’t burn it,” he protested, “Only… blackened it a little.” Ada sent her eldest brother a look, “Polly’s making some more.” “Thanks for the tea,” you smiled and took a sip. Frowning, you narrowed your eyes at John. “You’re not a child anymore, Y/N!” he explained happily. “Move over,” Arthur shoved his brother aside and hugged you, “Happy birthday, sweetheart. This is for you, go on, open it.” Wrapped clumsily in some brown paper, he’d given you a revolver. And just as you were staring at it, Aunt Polly walked in with toast in a lovely shade of light brown. “A gun,” she demanded at once, “For fucks sake, Arthur.” “She needs it to protect herself, Pol,” he returned, and with pride in his voice he added, “And look: it’s a lady’s gun!” You turned the weapon over and saw it was small, delicate and laid in. Still, deadly as any weapon it was. “My turn,” John said, bouncing up and down in excitement almost. He handed Polly your tea and when she sniffed it, she said strictly, “Alright, who put whiskey in her morning tea?” No one answered. Quickly John handed you his present, hardly wrapped at all. Inside, you found a peaky cap, razorblades included. “Honestly, John…” Ada sighed, “She’s not a bloody Blinder!” “It’s all she’s ever wanted!” John called out, “Ever since she could walk, she tried to steal our caps, forever talking about wanting to join us wherever we went. Now she’s got her own!” “I love it,” you beamed up at him, “All I ever wanted.” “Alright,” Ada interrupted, “Clearly Y/N has too many brothers so it’s up to me to turn her into a lady.” “Please do,” Polly sighed, “Or the only interest she’ll ever have is weapons.” She knew her niece well, “That and gambling…” Your sister combed a few rebellious strands of hair behind your ear and planted a kiss on your cheek, “My darling little sister, soon you’ll learn you have more than one way of getting a man to do what you want.” You blinked a few times. This had always been more of Ada’s area of expertise. “She has no idea what you’re on about,” Polly smirked. “Thank God,” Arthur and John said in unison. “Sit still,” Ada demanded and she started applying the lipstick, “Sit. Still.” You furrowed your brows at the unfamiliar feeling, “Just your colour,” Ada commented happily, “As I thought.” “Not bad, that,” Arthur commented as he tilted his head. John leaned back and examined you as well, “Yeah, well, it’s red, isn’t it? I like red...” “Lipstick, a gun and razors,” Ada commented matter-of-factly, “the most deadly Shelby as of yet, Pol!” Aunt Polly rolled her eyes. “Happy birthday, Y/N!” eleven-year-old Finn came running to the room and jumped up into your arms, “You can have mine!” And he thrust his homemade catapult into your hands by form of a gift. “Another weapon, Pol,” Arthur eyed her, “Whatever will become of our innocent little sister?” Aunt Polly rubbed her nose and stammered a little, “Well, you know I don’t agree with you joining the family business… And God knows I’ve tried to rein you in just a little…” “But,” you interrupted, eyes glittering mischievously. “But…” she looked down, “I got you something for your shoes.” “Shoes?” you looked at the little black package she’d handed you. John suddenly burst out laughing in realisation, Arthur tried to hide his face in his hands and Ada commented dryly, “So, no better than us, eh, Pol.” Slowly you opened the package. Inside, you found a small black butterfly knife. *** A few hours had passed, with the regular nonsense that you cherished more than anything in the world. The family was gathered in the kitchen, everyone argued and life seemed perfect. But, one thing was missing. “Where’s Tommy?” you finally asked. “He had business,” Polly answered shortly, “No idea when he’ll be back.” You eyed John carefully, the brother you always turned to, “You think he forgot?” “Nah,” he tried cheering you up, “And you’re doing alright with us, right? Don’t need grumpy here…” You smiled, but still it hurt a little. And then, unexpectedly, Tommy waltzed into the house like it was any other day. “Y/N,” he announced himself coldly, “I need you to come with me.” “Why?” you challenged, “We’re just celebra-“ “I said now, Y/N. Family business.” Tommy interrupted in a low voice. “Thomas…” Aunt Polly started, but he held up a hand to silence her. Then he turned to you and repeated, “Come with me.” Begrudgingly, you got up and followed your brother. Looking back, Arthur motioned you to move it, which made you all the more suspicious. Without moving a muscle in his face, Tommy opened the door and said, “Go on.” You stepped outside and the second you did, applause resounded through the streets. In front of every house, people had gathered and they cheered like you were royalty. You couldn’t believe your eyes. “Tommy, did you…” you started. “He’s been at it all morning,” John explained as he crossed you in the doorway. A few moments later, the sound of hooves echoed in the streets. “What the hell is this,” you said at once. “This,” Tommy made a broad hand gesture, “Is a gypsy on a horse.” “And what, pray tell, is he doing in the middle of town?” You recognised Johnny Dogs now, who called out, “Little Y/N Shelby! Happy birthday, love! How the hell are you!” “I’m grand, Johnny,” you said numbly, “What’s with the horse?” He got off the horse and patted her flank, “She was a lovely filly as first. Sweet, but could never quite be tamed. Third filly out of Shadow, gorgeous beast.” “So, we decided,” Tommy mumbled as he lit a cigarette slowly, “she needed a rider who’d understand.” “What? Being a gorgeous beast?” your cynical reply came. Tommy rolled his eyes, “ ‘could never be tamed’ “. “Well, go on,” Johnny urged, smiling from ear to ear, “Up you get, little one!” Gingerly, you walked over to the horse. As you stroked her nose, Tommy handed you his cigarette and said softly, “What do you think of her?” “She’s an absolute beauty.” Tommy nodded, “Just like you,” but before you could send him a thankful look, he’d walked off again. And with the whole of Small Heath watching on, you climbed up on the horse. *** It was almost midnight when you woke up on a hard cold bench. A splitting headache washed over you as you tried to lift your head. You touched your temple and noticed some blood on your knuckles. Vaguely, you remembered being in the Garrison only a few hours before. You remembered Tommy had closed the betting den and the pub being packed with people, all celebrating your birthday. Memories of card games, songs and laughs came back to you. And the whiskey, so much whiskey. Slowly, you hoisted yourself up. As you looked around, you recognised the inside of the police cell. And you felt at your laced up boots: the knife was still safe inside. A sigh of relief escaped you. “How’s the head, eh?” Recognising your brother’s voice, you looked up without meeting his eye. “What did I do?” you asked finally. After a pause, Tommy replied, “Well, you celebrated your birthday alright.” “Did I have fun?” “Yes, I’d say so.” You frowned, “Why am I in here?” He cleared his throat, “It started with the barmaid and ended with you head-butting a policeman. Quite the Shelby night…” “Is that pride I hear?” Tommy didn’t answer, so you send him your best innocent smile. Eventually he asked, “Was it worth it?” “Hell yes,” you replied in a flash. “Little devil, celebrating her fucking birthday, eh?” “Admit it!” you pointed at him, “you areproud!”

And Thomas Shelby actually smiled through the bars, “Fucking right I am.” When he started to walk away, you shouted, “Oi! What about my bail?” “Paid it!” he called from a distance. “How am I supposed to get home?” you raised your voice even more. Tommy’s reply echoed, “Take your horse. She’s outside.” Myhorse? And just as a policeman with a head in bandages opened the door of your cell, you smiled to yourself: Best birthday ever.

Tommy left the station before you were released, but before he’d gone, he finally said:

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

***

Masterlist

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bontenten · 3 years

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Sleeping Beauty

Pairing: Shirabu x f!reader WC: 5.6k Genre/Warnings: smut, fairy tale retelling, incest, dubcon/noncon, drugs (sleeping pill), somnophilia, abusive past relationship, implied rape (not Shirabu), panic attack, victim-blaming, hero-complex with a bit of god-complex, hints of yandere, uhh medical malpractice, Shirabu’s bangs

Summary: The real story of Sleeping Beauty is anything but beautiful. Shirabu will do everything he can to keep you in a safe haven where you can freely dance with your prince once upon a dream.

A/N: This is a part of the whorehouse intoxicated collaboration, rest of the pieces of this toxic journey can be found here! Thank you Ria and Angel for helping beta <3 Love you both so much.

Unofficial bgm: Once Upon a Dream & Once Upon a December

"You'll never wash me from you," he sneers, pulling you back by a handful of hair. You feel a blanket of pain shoot across your scalp. "You'll never really get away. Time to wake the fuck up."

"G-get away from me!"

You thrash and kick your legs wildly hoping something will land. The moment you hear a pained grunt and feel his grip loosen, you scramble up to your feet and run. Your shoes grate against wet cement as you take off. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you will your legs forward one after another. The caw of birds seem to act as a beacon leading you through the twists and turns of the terrain.

A left turn here, two blocks straight. Past the corner store and beyond the stoplight. Three blocks. Right turn. Two Blocks. Five steps away. Four...Three..Two...Safety...

----

"In the forest, the princess played with a lot of animal friends. She grew up there in the cottage with three fairies looking after her."

Thunder claps and lightning strikes outside.

"It's so loud Kenjirou-nii!" you cry, burying yourself into Shirabu's arms.

"Shh, I'm here," Shirabu coos, rocking you back and forth until your sobs subside. "One day, the princess was singing with the songbirds..."

Shirabu begins to recount the fairytale of Sleeping Beauty to you, slowly easing your mind away from the turbulence outside.

"Do you think you can sleep now?"

You shake your head and jump again when the thunder claps over the roof of the house.

"It's okay, I'm right here. Big brother’s always going to protect you."

"Like the prince protecting the princess?"

"Yes, exactly. You're always my princess, now go to sleep. I'll wake you when the sun's up.”

After a while, you calm down and slowly drift into sleep with your breaths evening out. Shirabu pulls the covers over both of you and enters sleep as well.

The winds continued to howl outside the window...the branches tapping...tapping against the window...tap...tapping…

----

Shirabu Kenjirou opens his eyes. He had just fallen asleep while studying for the third time that night. There is no use staying at the library if he is going to treat it as a hotel; he’ll be better off going home first. He yawns and stretches his neck, then packs his bags to return to his apartment. There are few students left in the building at this ungodly hour. Dark clouds loom overhead and the air is filled with the pitter patter of autumn rain hitting cement. Shirabu zips up his coat, opens his umbrella, and walks into the dark.

You would have been so frightened by this sort of weather, whimpering under your blankets, counting sheep with shaky breaths. Just like how you did in that dream of his earlier.

While growing up, Shirabu hadn't cared all that much about anything else considering he spent most of his time with his studies or playing volleyball. Although there was you, his little sister, he figured you had your little bubble anyway. But on a stormy night, you teetered down the hall after finding your parent’s room locked. Afraid and sleepy, you looked for comfort elsewhere and arrived at Shirabu’s room.

Shirabu had been most irritated and decided to shoo you out with strings of curses and profanities, but he couldn’t. The sight of your form huddled right outside his bedroom, with young eyes pleading for him took hold of a bit of humanity in Shirabu’s heart. So, he let you into his room, a safe haven, and eventually a world that was composed of only the two of you against the rest of the world.

Shirabu has known for a long time that you are the most brilliant, precious, and purest thing he’ll ever encounter. Always perfect. Forever unsullied.

There are many things that Shirabu wants to shield you from. If he can secure one more hour of innocence, one more day, one lifetime, he’ll do so without a moment of hesitation. The real world is unlike the fairy tales that you hear about while growing up.

The real story of Sleeping Beauty is anything but beautiful. There isn’t a handsome prince the princess meets in a forest. No color changing cake. No kiss of love. In the real story, the princess is put into an endless slumber and has her virginal body taken by some unknown beast of a king, used like a rag for his carnal pleasure. When he leaves, the sleeping girl is then forgotten like trampled daisies under the hooves of horses. And she will wake to find her womb bulged with bastard life as a result of the damnation. The stretches clawing around the navel as permanent reminders that nothing will wash him from her.

The real world is dark. Horrible. Wretched. Dirty. Filled with suffering. That is why he, Shirabu Kenjirou, responds to the call to action and enters a life of service. In his heart he yearns to save and help, even if just a little, by becoming a prince with a white coat. He will not give up trying to salvage pieces of humanity he’ll touch, and in the process, carve out a haven, a little forest with a cottage, for his dearest sister to safely live in.

It has been a while since he last heard from you. Partly his own fault, really. Ever since Shirabu entered university and then medical school, the number of times you two would meet up dwindled. The hours on the phone became texts and soon after, communication vanished into mostly silence.

You are in university now, grown up and stepping into the real world, but that doesn't mean you are no longer his little sister. And because you are the one and only, Shirabu feels that he should try to do a better job as an older brother and check-in with you to see how you are doing. So, Shirabu takes out his phone that’s still on silent after studying.

27 missed calls from Sister

Shirabu pauses in his tracks and returns the call. Cars zoom by on the streets while he waits for the line to connect.

He was right, you must have been frightened.

The first call doesn’t connect, so Shirabu immediately tries the second time. You pick up on the third attempt.

"It's me, I'm so sorry I didn't pick up earlier."

"K-Kenjirou-nii..." your voice weakly translates over the speaker.

Shirabu presses the phone closer to his ear and turns up the volume. "Where are you now," he demands. "At school?"

"...Your place..." Your voice sounds so dangerously faded, like petals beaten to the ground from the rain.

Shirabu bolts. His apartment is just a couple blocks away. Around the corner just up ahead. Shirabu makes a sharp turn and splashes through a puddle.

"Stay...on the phone with me," he urges, paying no mind to his soaked shoes and socks.

You nod in understanding, as if he’ll hear your action.

"I'm almost there okay, almost."

Shirabu isn’t lying. A few moments later you hear the frantic footsteps coming closer to you. The stomping noises make your skin crawl, but the familiar face of your brother melts those fears away. He appears with his wet bangs stuck to his face and his shoulders heaving up and down. It’s him, your niichan, your prince finally here.

You scramble up and dive into his open arms, in relief that you are safe at last, as you finally allow tears to mix with rain.

"I was so scared. I missed you so much, Kenjirou-niichan," you sob into Shirabu's wet coat. "Where were you, where were you?"

"I'm sorry. I'm here now, I'm sorry," Shirabu apologizes, "Let's go inside first, alright? We’re both drenched.”

----

Under the bright lights of the living room, Shirabu gets a better look at you. You catch his discerning eyes studying you up and down, visually tracing the markers of your demise. That’s when you crack.

“Kenjirou-nii...the real world, the world is a horrible place. I trusted him, you know? I trusted that man.”

Foolish and stupid, Shirabu wants to say. It’ll be easy to simply yell at you.

Shirabu is not someone without a temper. He was quite known for it back in his high-school days. The bruises, the scars that did not heal well. Shirabu reminds himself to keep his composure, especially in front of you. He’s to be a doctor. He’s to be a protector, a savior. And with the training he already has so far, Shirabu knows he’s already as good as any board certified, licensed white-robed saint. He just needs to do what he’s meant to do. Heal. Clean. Purify.

After listening to your brief tale, Shirabu tells you not to worry about anything else tonight other than take a hot shower and get some rest. He gives you a reassuring smile and sends you off to the bathroom with towels and a large t-shirt.

While you wash-up and lose your thoughts piecing together the messy events of the night, Shirabu paces in the living room after he changes his own wet clothes. Nevermind the medical books he still needs to pour over, all Shirabu wants to do right now is track down the culprit and stick a scalpel through his socket. No, that’s just too easy. That bastard deserves something much more horrible, a slow and patient torture, a death within grasp but just out of reach. As if agreeing with Shirabu’s thoughts, your phone on the coffee table lights up. Shirabu picks up the device and watches the notifications pop-up.

Shirabu sees an unknown number call you. He doesn’t pick up, letting the phone ring while he reads the numbers across the screen and commits them to memory. The phone calls stop and an onslaught of texts follow; some coherent and others far from decipherable. There are messages of broken apologies and confessions of persistent love. Requests for you to go back to him. Shirabu scoffs at the language.

Shirabu continues to wait with impassive eyes, but the tight death grip around the device gives away the boiling rage beneath his skin. How dare the man behind that accursed number treat you, his little sister and princess, in such a foul manner. This beast who stole from you. Who is the reason behind the tainting of your now sullied innocence.

Finally after a few minutes of silence, the screen lights up with a series of curses and condemnation that show the man’s true colors. A morphed beast due to your lack of response. Shirabu scrolls through the list of notifications again with impassive eyes, but the tight death grip around the device gives away the boiling rage beneath his skin.

"You will pay," Shirabu seethes, taking a knife from the kitchen and ramming the sharp end straight into the device glass. The phone buzzes desperately and goes dark. You have no use for that phone anymore after all of this anyway, and the cursed number is already memorized by Shirabu for his own purposes.

----

Shirabu’s room is tidy. The two bookshelves on either side of the table are filled with books, photos, and many other accolades. That’s your older brother alright: perfect, proper, always right. Always right about everything, except one thing. The world you know really isn’t the wonderland he told you about growing up. Not at all.

You bury your face into Shirabu's pillows and will yourself to sleep. You are safe here in his bed. It’s a haven...safely tucked in a forest. You are in a forest. The trees and the breeze. Songbirds are singing.

You can dance here, twirl about...safe...free…

The trees melt.

Birds squawk and screech, scampering away…

Ink engulfs you....swallowing you whole

Falling...falling…

"You'll never wash me from you," he sneers. "You'll never really get away. Time to wake the fuck up."

NO! you try to scream. You can’t, the weight on your chest sinks you deeper, only silence is uttered...choked…

Wake up.

"Wake up!"

Your eyes fly open and you see him. Him. A blood curdling shriek finally tears through your throat and you thrash. "Getawaygetawaygetaway! NO!"

"It's me, hey, it's me. You're okay, you're safe." Shirabu’s eyes widen with worry at your outburst, but gives you ample space to breathe and compose yourself.

This familiar voice. It does not belong to him. It’s definitely not him.

"...Kenjirou-nii?" you ask quietly. The shadow is backlit from light coming in through the door and your vision is still fuzzy from the nightmare.

A tender hand closes around yours. "Shhh, it's okay, you're okay now. It was a bad dream, you're safe. You're safe. I'm here."

Cold sweat runs down your temples. Your breath is fast and shallow.

"Follow me, okay. Breathe in..." Shirabu takes a deep breath. You follow his voice and movement as if they are lanterns guiding you through a maze. "And breathe out. Good, you're doing great. Breathe in...and out..."

You feel your mind slowly beginning to clear with each inhale and exhale. Finally, you see Shirabu clearly again. You can smell the scent of his body wash from him. The texture of the blanket rubs against your fingertips. You’re here in Shirabu’s room. Safety. Haven.

"I'll be right back," Shirabu tells you, before leaving you for a moment and going towards the bathroom. He opens the medicine cabinet, pops out a few white pills from a box.

"Here," he says holding out the small tablets in the middle of his palm. The off-white seems to almost glow in the dark.

"It's zolpidem, a sleeping pill I sometimes take for insomnia. It'll help you for tonight, and then we'll get you something else tomorrow that'll work better."

You look at the pill and then at Shirabu. Shirabu is someone you love and trust with all your heart. His embrace is your anchor and haven when the rest of the world has turned a blind eye. He’s your brother. One and only. There’s no reason not to trust him.

"I won't see him will I?"

"No," Shirabu affirms. The pills don't really manipulate dreams, but if reassuring you can placebo sweet dreams, then what harm really is there? He didn’t pass Ethics with top marks for nothing.

Shirabu gently presses the pill body against your lips and you part them, allowing the small object to slip through. He feeds another and you open your mouth obediently. You look at Shirabu’s eyes which are fixated on the way your lips wrap around his three fingers. Kenjirou-nii’s lashes are so nice and pretty, you think.

One gulp of water later, and you feel nothing but a cold sensation traveling down your throat and disappearing into your belly.

"It'll take about half an hour, I'll stay with you until you fall asleep," Shirabu says. He supports your back and gently lowers you back into the comforts of the plush mattress. Shirabu will surely carry the same attentiveness and care when he becomes a full-fledged doctor. You are sure of it. The big brother you grew up with has truly grown up and matured. But no matter how much he changes or how much you mess up, he’ll always be your big brother.

"Can you lie down next to me again, like when we were young?"

An innocent request from a patient-in-need. Shirabu complies and lies down next to you.

"I remember when we were young, I would make you dance with me to live out my princess dreams. You remember?”

Afternoons next to the stereo, crayons scattered on the floor. The smell of something baking in the kitchen. Shrieks and laughter in the living room. Even though Shirabu would be mildly annoyed at first, he found humoring your imagination to be a pleasant and soothing experience. Even he was sometimes whisked away from textbooks into a magical forest that was just you and him. The stress and burdens of everything else all seem so much lighter on his shoulders when you’re simply just there.

"Of course I remember, silly."

You hum softly and continue waiting for the medicine in your bloodstream to make its way through your body.

"Do you...remember the sleeping beauty story you would always tell me?"

"Yea?"

You pause for a moment before quietly asking, "Kenjirou-niichan, why did you lie to me?"

Shirabu does not respond and only glances over at you, eyeing your closed lids. Closed though they may be, the tiny beads of glimmering tears are beginning to emerge from between the lashes and trail down your cheeks.

"There is no prince, Kenjirou-nii...no prince for me, no one...niichan...," you mumble between your breaths. The drug is starting to take its effect, ushering your mind into another dimension far away from hurt and pain. It swallows you like a pit of ink, sinking you deeper and deeper...

----

Kenjirou-nii, why did you lie? Earlier, Shirabu felt his breath hitch when you asked that.

He calls out your name softly, brushing over your cheeks, and listening to your soft breathing for a good while to make sure you are in fact asleep. At long last, maybe this is a good dream.

A lie? No! Not a lie, Shirabu wants to tell you. For you, his dearest sister, who only ever deserves happiness, in the rawest and truest form. You are supposed to have a life of others giving gifts of love, never having to offer anything of your own.

Shirabu feels his blood boil once more at the thought of that man who stole your innocence away. The one who took your body for his own carnal pleasures. The one who dared to steal you from him, Shirabu Kenjirou. If Shirabu's nails are not kept in immaculate condition for his profession, no doubt, his grip would be drawing blood from his palms.

Those marks and scars across your skin. Shirabu traces his finger down your neckline and along your arms...

Your head turns from left to right and you manage to shrug the big collar of the t-shirt off your shoulder. Shirabu can see, under the glow of moonlight from the cleared night sky, a nasty mark. A permanent mark. And before he realizes it, his fingers are already traveling over, tracing along and testing out the patterns and bumps.

Shirabu feels his chest burn beyond the anger and fury. Guilt. Where was he all this time when you were suffering? Why hadn't you just called him then? Anguishing thoughts of his little sister writhing in pain under that beast's grasps tear Shirabu apart. Did you cry? Were you scared? All these years studying for what? For what noble purpose is Shirabu trying to pursue if he can’t even save those closest to him?

Shirabu continues to search for any other marks or discolorations that are splayed across your skin like a map. It is what it is now. But Shirabu still has his calling. He is a man who answers to a life of service and healing: a prince in a white coat. No matter what happens, even if you’re tainted now, you’ll still be his little sister.

Even if your naivety and stupidity got you into the mess in the first place. Of course, why didn’t you listen to your brother’s warnings and stay in a safe haven like a good girl? Stay in your room and study for your future like a good student? Like him? Why did you think running off for fun, enjoying “youth and freedom” like the other degenerates would be a good idea?

Shirabu grits his teeth. Look at you now, damaged and past the point of no return, used. Injured and ill. Still, he needs to get the full story first, and see where else you might possibly be hurt. A complete diagnosis needs to come first. After the messages from the man, Shirabu is all the more certain that there are more clues left, and he needs evidence. He needs to know. The comforter is pulled away and careful hands examine the lines of your palms.

Once upon a time, you grabbed Shirabu’s hand and tried to use the methods of schoolyard palm-reading on him. You even exclaimed, “Kenjirou-niichan, this line means you’ll live a long life! And we can be together forever because my life line is really long too!”

Shirabu smiles at the memory and presses a kiss to the center of your palm. It must have been so painful, how could you have possibly endured? But you did and you survived. You are so brave.

Probing fingertips trace across your collarbone and push the fabric of the large t-shirt up to reveal your torso. Shirabu blinks, realizing that this is now the body of a fully matured woman. You take a deep breath in your sleep from the cold air running across your exposed breasts. Shirabu can see the nipples perk up from the chill and hesitantly touches the bud with a hint of academic curiosity.

“Mmm, that tickles...” you giggle softly. Your hand pushes Shirabu's off and scratches the same spot he just traced, fondling your own breast briefly before letting go and continuing to sleep. Even grown up now, still the same adorable little sister.

Shirabu lets himself tease your nipples and knead the soft flesh of your breasts, toying around and watching your cute little expressions. Sometimes you’ll respond again and paw the tickling hands away. It’s fun, like playing a little game.

But when he lets his eyes wander down, Shirabu’s eyes narrow. Below the breasts, on either side of the waist, Shirabu sees damning marks of deep purple turning into a disgusting yellow. Like cursed claw marks. Shirabu hesitantly presses on the bruise, watching the color transform under his touch. He stops immediately when you begin to whine in pain. Carefully, Shirabu presses a kiss on these markings too, just like any other little injury you sustained in the past. A kiss so the pain flies away.

Foolish, foolish girl. Naive princess. Why did you let this happen to yourself? In the future, don’t run anymore. Stay here where it’s safe.

There is just one place left Shirabu did not examine yet, a hidden spot that is supposed to be locked away that someone else discovered. Shirabu looks down at the dark lace panties obstructing his view like gates of a castle. It’s a poor “keep out” message; if anything it entices anyone who sees it to come in. A tempting invitation to see what’s behind.

Shirabu allows his clean fingers to easily slip through and begin a thorough investigation through the soft folds of flesh. His fingertips dip into a pool of wetness. He furrows his brows. When did this happen?

Why are you wet? His eyes focus on your sleeping face that still has a relaxed smile. What are you dreaming about that makes your body like this? Shirabu drags the fingers covered with your slick to circle your clit. In response your thighs clamp and twitch. So sensitive, still inexperienced, even if you’re sullied.

Shirabu slides the soaked panties off and pushes your thighs apart so he can continue his examination. That person must have touched this area too, his fingers have been here, and then…plunged his fingers into you like so. Your body trembles as Shirabu’s two fingers probe in, fully examining your inner anatomy. Soft, warm muscles clamp tightly around his digits and try to stop them from entering further. It’s for your good and his knowledge. He pushes deeper into you, dragging alongside the bumps and ridges of your walls.

You whine loudly and arch your back when Shirabu’s fingers find a sweet spot. Your head shifts on the fluffy pillows.

“Did you like that? Did that feel good?” Shirabu asks, probing your hole once more. As if in agreement, your body twitches again and your hips automatically roll against the palm, pressing your sensitive clit into the surface. Your breathy sighs are soft and sweet, unlike any other sound Shirabu has heard from you. It’s like a spell that enchants Shirabu and beckons for him. He shudders as he feels his cock responding to each noise coming out from between your lips.

It’s good, something feels so good. Under the sunlight, you feel warmth pooling throughout your body. There are tingles in the soles of your feet, like grass tickling skin while running around barefoot. Your body feels so light and relaxed. It’s warm and you’re not in this forest alone. The shape of a prince appears. You know he’s a prince because his voice is gentle and his touch feels safe.

If this feels good, it’s only because this is an act of love. If this makes you happy, it’s because it’s love. If it’s love, it’ll fill the empty pools of hurt. And if you’ll be whole again, you’ll heal. Shirabu makes up his mind and caresses your cheeks tenderly, So beautiful. Always beautiful. A sleeping beauty. His hand reaches to the waistband of his pants.

The prince rests his hand on your hips and excitement jolts through your body. You wrap your arms around his neck and smile back.

Shirabu freezes the moment he feels your arms wave into the air and reach for him. The sneaky fingers run across his skin.

"Dance..with me," you slur before falling back into silence.

The alarm washes away when he confirms you are still sound asleep.

"Are you dreaming of your prince?" Shirabu asks while tearing open a condom packet. Medical safety. He should have worn gloves earlier too, if he wasn’t already too entranced. "Dancing? Then I'll dance with you."

Forever. I'll be your prince, my sweet darling.

Shirabu runs the length of his hardened cock along your glistening slit. Rather than take, rather than pillage and steal...Shirabu will give. Replace the gross markers of pain with soft fleeting kisses. Replace the innocence stolen with love given unconditionally. Shirabu will give you all the love you deserve and more.

Shirabu’s fingers weave into your delicate ones, the palms join together, and your fingertips automatically lock with your niichan’s. It’s the starting position for a waltz in the forest, once upon a dream.

The man takes the initiation, the leading step. Shirabu closes the gap, sinking his length into your sweet embrace in a fluid and wet squelch. You respond, digging your nails and tightening your grip on his hands. Your other arm hugs around your partner, your niichan, pulling his body close against yours. Your blank eyes flutter open briefly to look straight at the shadow of Shirabu. Of course, you don’t see anything, you’re actually in a warm forest shyly gazing at your prince. Shirabu almost thinks that he woke you up, but you only let out a quiet moan before your body relaxes again.

Shirabu groans and rests his cock in your warm and tight embrace. This is the way it should be, how it ought to be done. No one else can lead you in this dance the way he can. The way he will. This is not the self-fulfilling king stealing the princess’s virginal body for his own pleasure. This is the loving prince who loves and gives selflessly. Your big brother knows you the best, knows how you’ll respond, knows how you’ll like it. Shirabu slowly draws himself out and thrusts back in.

The prince presses himself so close to you, and you inhale sharply. During the waltz, you always have to maintain body contact with your partner. You feel his breath on your cheeks, and you’re sure he can feel your hammering heartbeat. The intimacy builds in the tender but secure hold. The steps are quick but the movements are not violent. It’s just enough that the heat stirring in your core spreads throughout your body.

Breaths become more labored and raspy into the act. Shirabu sees your face morph into bliss as he continues his pace and rocks his hips into you. His own brows furrow as Shirabu feels his grip over rationality falling apart with each thrust. Each flutter of your walls against him only invites him to come in deeper, farther. Harder.

“...K-Kenjirou-nii...,” you softly cry out.

Your honeyed voice is a thick syrup trapping Shirabu, coaxing him. It’s like a melody inviting a weary traveler, a lost prince, in for rest. Your voice, your body, it’s tantalizing.

"Too good," Shirabu groans to himself. Why is it so good? You, his little sister, how? He looks down towards where he sees his cock, covered with your fluids, disappear into you. The thin latex barrier doesn’t stop how close the two of you are, Shirabu feels each clench and spasm around him. “My little sister, I didn’t know…”

Shirabu can now understand just why that man did all that to you. Why that man wants to keep you by his side. Why he incessantly sends messages and tries to manipulate you back into their world.

It’s the only explanation, really, when you don’t even know how bewitching your body is. How enticing your voice is. Anyone would want to keep it as their own. Your warmth, your sweet, sweet hole. This cunt of yours is itself a safe haven. And Shirabu feels like he’s the one being made whole from you. It’s all because of you.

Each moan from you. Those gentle mewling cries, a witch’s spell, an incantation for addiction. That man is trying to manipulate you? How? When your whole existence manipulates everyone first, drawing them all in with the image of your unsullied purity.

Shirabu feels his impending release around the edge. His pace quickens and his thrusts meet with each of your twisting squirms. Your head tosses side-to-side on the pillow as your sleepy climax washes through.

Spin. Faster and faster in the forested ballroom. Twirl for the finale. You feel a dizzying jolt as the prince dips your body back. It’s a whirlwind of love. In your dream, the sunshine is so warm and growing so much hotter. It feels like you’re floating. So light and free. That prickling tickle in your feet is growing stronger until little fireworks set off across every corner of your body, filling you completely. The forest melts as the colors blend together in a dreamy painting.

Euphoria, as Shirabu finishes spectacularly, clutching your sleeping body close to him in a messy ending pose. The final winds of the dead storm outside sound like a rumbling applause for this sinful waltz. He can hear his own pants and your shaky breaths mix into a fading duet. Shirabu lets himself bask for a moment, resting, entangled with you.

Everything makes sense now. He completely understands why the bastard king forces himself onto Sleeping Beauty. He completely understands why your allure is much too exquisite to pass on. Shirabu pulls out and carefully removes the condom, collecting the white essence you bewitched out from him into a little package with a tie. Dangerous little princess, that you are.

Even though Shirabu now fully understands the complete story after careful examination, there are still a few lines Shirabu will draw. One, that man has still committed a very grave sin, being the first to sample your purity, stealing that away from Shirabu? Damaging your flesh and skin? Unacceptable, he thinks as he tosses the used condom into the waste bin. A complete low-life who doesn’t know how to cherish. Punishment will be due.

Shirabu returns to the bed where your unconscious body is still sprawled between bunched sheets. His blank eyes study your spread legs and puffy cunt that’s still quivering every now and then. He taps his index finger against your sensitive clit. As if it is a magic button, your body briefly trembles on command. As if you are ready to enchant another unsuspecting traveler into your safe little haven. A little bit of fluid leaks out from your hole, presenting itself seductively. Welcome.

Shirabu scoffs. And number two, you’ll be better off staying here with himself, your big brother. You’ll be safe here with a prince who knows best how to love you right, and give you the world. This is the way it should be; before you completely lose yourself into degeneracy and invite just about anyone into you.

Those sleeping pills will be insufficient for the long-run. A different concoction while you are still healing from your terrible trauma will be needed. A cocktail of sorts that will target different needs. Yes. Shirabu files that thought away, putting it towards the top of his to-do list. There’s so many things he has to take care of. Too much pain in this world waiting for him to don white robes and be out there.

“But you’ll always come first on niichan’s list,” Shirabu whispers, slipping your panties back on and pulling the comforters over your body. He’ll never allow you to be sullied again. You’ll stay here in this safe haven, like a little cottage tucked away in the forest. Dream here. Find happiness with the only prince you need.

The first rays of dawn begin to brighten the sky, shooing away the cloak of night. The first songs from the birds announce the arrival of a new day. The morning light filters through the windows of the room, spilling over onto the bed and your quiet, unmoving form.

Time to wake up now, sleeping beauty.

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