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princehrry-writings · 4 years ago

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Y/n's a witch and Harry's her soulmate

I'VE LITERALLY BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR 2 MONTHS!!!

lanfvksbkvjbs I hope you guys like it because I poured my whole soul into this!!!! I wanted it to be over 10k but I felt like I was just dragging it on and the ending isn't great but it's ok.

I switch between present and past tense without meaning too- oops :)

wordcount: 9911

warnings: uhhh, swearing, google translated latin :) catcalling and unwanted male attention (with a bad witch moment... see what i did there😏), a little bit of violence, very lightly edited lmao

She didn’t quite understand what was going on. Was this another witch? No, she would have felt that energy differently. So he had to be a mortal. But why did it feel like she had just been set on fire in the best way possible.

“Thank you…” He muttered, eyes glazed over. “M’Harry, by the way.”

Harry.

What a magical name, she thought.

Harry walks into Y/n’s shop one day, sees the brooms sweeping by themselves and gets a little curious.

“Althea, get your claws out of there. You’re gonna get hair in the muffins!” Y/n shrieked, quickly shooing the troublesome feline away from the open bowl of batter sat atop the counter. The cat just meowed at her, unbothered by her person's shrieking. Thea was quite the diva. She couldn’t give a flying fuck even if she tried.

“Oh Stars, look what you’ve done!” Y/n continued, cleaning up the trail of paw prints left in the flour on the table. “How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of the kitchen when I’m baking Thea! Why don’t you ever listen!”

Y/n has been a little strung up lately. That’s probably the understatement of the century. Maybe if she hadn’t been put in charge of the shop for the first time by herself while her mother went to gather supplies and place orders for said shop, she wouldn’t be so stressed. She’s only 22 years into her eternal lifetime. She’s yet to learn the virtue of patience, her mind never ceasing to run with ideas and thoughts and feelings.

Her mother always griped about how she needed to take a deep breath and let go of the tension in her shoulders because now that she had stopped ageing- she had all the time in the world (literally) to do everything she was worried about. Y/n would argue that she’s not worried so much as eager. She’s just very excitable.

“Why do I even bother yelling at you anymore.” Y/n grumbled, flicking her wrist in the direction of the broom closet. The broom and dustpan came floating out and got to work sweeping up the bits of flower seeds and petals that had dropped off the table instead of into the mortar like she had planned.

Y/n’s never been known for her cleanliness.

Out of the blue, the hair on the back of her neck and arms stood at full attention, a warm shiver shooting down her spine. What the hell? She thought to herself. Thea didn’t seem bothered by whatever energy was coming closer so she knew it wasn’t any danger, but it was something. Y/n flicked her wrist once more, quickly sending the broom away and going to hide behind a wall where whoever this was couldn’t see her.

The little bells above the door chimed, alerting anyone inside that someone had just arrived. In walked, who Y/n thought to be, the most beautiful boy she thinks she’s ever seen. Chestnut curls shielded by a knit beanie, sea glass eyes, broad shoulders, a kind smile on his face. He looked as ethereal as she was.

She felt the earth shift under her feet, her heart speeding up slightly in his presence. He was magnificent, she thought. The shiver she felt was steadfast and unchanging, finding a home in the goosebumps covering her whole body. She had never felt like this before.

The witch watched from behind the wall as the man gazed about the shop, his hands rested behind his back. In a pair of black jeans with a rip in the knee and a white tee shirt with a cardigan thrown over it, he shuffled about.

Y/n took a deep breath, collecting herself before making her presence known. She walked out from behind the wall, stepping behind the main checkout counter and clearing her throat lightly.

“Welcome in! I’m Y/n, let me know if you need any help!” She said, trying not to cringe at how scripted that sounded.

His head popped up, eyes connecting with hers and that’s when they both felt the energy in the room grow. Thea came sauntering out of the kitchen area in the back, Y/n made a mental note to check the muffin batter for cat hair later, no doubt at the electrical charge of the room.

“Thank you…” He muttered, eyes glazed over. “M’Harry, by the way.”

Harry.

What a magical name, she thought.

There was a pause, where neither of them wanted to move, in fear of this moment passing and never getting to feel like this ever again.

It felt like having a picnic on a warm summer day, where it’s not too hot but just right. It felt like the first breath of fresh Spring air, like hearing a baby giggle. She felt fuzzy and warm. Like she was wrapped in a hug. Y/n felt… peaceful. She felt all of her anxiety about the shop melt away, as if it had never been there.

Harry smiled at her, a pink tinge coating his skin, and pulled his eyes away (he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by staring), continuing on with his peruse of the shop. He had no idea why he was here, truly. Didn’t realize where he was until he pushed through the door. He doesn’t even know what any of this stuff is, he’s just looking so it seems like he knows what he’s doing.

He felt something brush his ankle, looking down and seeing a fluffy snow white cat with striking green eyes (just like his!), and cooed at her.

“Is it alright if I pet her?” He asked, looking back up at Y/n. He would take any chance he got to look at her. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. With her shiny hair and kind eyes, a smile that made you want to hug her. She looked so welcoming. He felt… oddly peaceful.

“Yeah of course! She’s my little attention whore, aren’t you Thea?” Y/n giggled and Harry thought his heart would stop right there. Her little giggle was the most glorious sound he’d ever heard, he decided.

She got up from her little stool behind the counter and floated over to him, using her cat as an excuse to get closer. She just couldn’t figure out why she had such a pull to him. It didn’t make sense to her. Maybe he was a witch and was just masking his energy really well, maybe he was some sort of other creature, or maybe… no, that can’t be it.

Well…

Maybe… he’s her Flame. Her Twin Flame… Her Soulmate.

No. There’s no way. It’s so rare for witches to find their flames. And especially at such a young age. Y/n’s parents didn’t find each other for almost 75 years, and here she is at just 22, stumbling upon some magical happenstance where her Flame just saunters into her family’s shop.

Harry scratched behind Thea’s ear, a motor-like pur erupting from her little belly. She nuzzled into his touch, and then sprung up onto his shoulder from the table, startling the man. Y/n giggled at the look on his face, reaching up to scratch just above Thea’s tail, her favorite spot.

“She does that when she likes someone.” Y/n explained. A blush appeared on his face at this.

She likes him.

“So was there anything in particular you were looking for?” Y/n continued, hoping to make more conversation with him. Her fingers are buzzing, wanting to reach out and hold his hand or touch his arm, anyway she can get her hands on him really, but she knows that would be inappropriate so she refrains (however difficult it may be).

Harry was in the same boat. He felt the need to wrap her up in his embrace and never let her go. It was the strangest thing he thinks he’s ever felt.

“Honestly, no. I don’t really know what any of this stuff is… I didn’t even realize when I walked in but I didn’t want to look like a psycho just walking in and out of shops randomly.” A shy smile displays on his features.

Y/n chuckled. This furthers her hunch that he is, in fact, her Flame. Getting a random urge to come in here could only mean that the invisible string tying them together was leading him to her. Pulling them closer and closer everyday until this very moment, when they were fated to meet. Written in the stars to know each other, whether that be for love or friendship only time would tell.

She really hopes it’s love.

“Ok… We’re kind of just a general shop. We carry crystals, herbs, spices, oils, candles, and my mother does a lot of crafts, so we sell those here too.” Y/n went on to explain, Harry’s eyes flitted around to all the things she mentioned. He saw glittering crystals, by themselves but also made into jewelry like rings and necklaces, he saw bundles of different flowers and vials of liquids he assumed were the oils she mentioned.

“What is all this stuff for?” He questioned. He had never heard of anyone suddenly needing Oxeye Daisies or black onyx crystals, but he’d never been one to judge.

Y/n paused, thinking of the best way to explain everything. Practising “witchcraft” wasn’t an unusual topic to humans, but they didn’t know that witches with magic that was (semi-inaccurately) portrayed in movies and tv shows actually existed.

“Uhm, anything in the shop can be used for a number of things. Apothecary, gardening, herbal remedies, manifestation.” She explained. He nodded along with her words, doing his best to focus on what she was saying rather than just her. His body was tingling the closer she stood. He never wanted this feeling to go away.

Whatever this feeling was.

Harry looked around, his sights landing on a shelf full of colorful candles. His eyes lit up, trotting over to them, picking up one that was a light lavender color. He didn’t know he was drawn to this one in particular, but something had pulled him to grab it. Something was telling him to buy it, bring it home, and burn it on his bedside table, right next to his head every night.

It was Y/n’s favorite color.

The girl's cheeks burnt when she realized this was the one he had picked out. The occurrence might seem random to anyone passing by, anyone who didn’t know two halves of a soul had just been reunited with one another after being apart for however many years. But Y/n knew, and hopefully Harry would know soon.

She didn’t want to scare him though. He would think she was crazy. Imagine a random stranger that you’ve never seen before in your entire life tells you that you’re meant to spend the rest of your life together. He would run away screaming.

So she has to start slow.

“Think I might get a few candles…” Harry trails off, looking around at all the different shapes and sizes of colored wax sitting before him. Y/n smiles at this and nods, letting him know she’ll be at the counter if he needs anything.

Please need something, she hopes to herself.

He didn’t end up needing anything, but he ended up purchasing 3 candles, all of them being that same lavender color.

* .

. * .

It was a few weeks later when Y/n felt a familiar tingle run down her spine. Harry must be near, she thought.

She had spent the last fortnight and then some moping about the shop and her flat, hoping her Flame would turn up again. Her mother, Asteria, had been ecstatic when she heard that her daughter had found her Flame, and empathised with her pain, understanding that he was a mortal and it was difficult to form bonds with them quickly. The woman always found it interesting how the most indefinite creatures took the longest to form their bonds. But then she remembered they had no knowledge of Twin Souls and often settled for one not fated to them.

“Mama, he’s close. I can feel him!” Y/n cried, tidying her appearance in the reflection of the window. She hopes to the Stars that he’s coming to see her and not just passing through.

Waving away the brooms fluttering around the shop, she busies herself restocking shelves. Asteria had just finished a new batch of candles that needed shelving. The mother had been trying new recipes lately and was excited to see how they would fare.

Y/n almost misses the little chime of the bells signaling that someone has just entered. If it weren’t for the energy in the room skyrocketing and all the hair in her body standing at attention, she wouldn’t have noticed it at all. Turning, her gaze falls upon a familiar set of sea glass eyes and chestnut curls that have enchanted her mind every passing second since the first time they met. She tried her damndest to hide her grin, but had to turn away so he wouldn’t be able to see it.

Harry looked around the shop before his gaze fell upon the girl he hadn’t stopped dreaming about since he last was here. There she stood, back turned to him, with her shiny hair and adorable outfit. In a lavender colored sundress, hair pulled back by a white scarf, she fussed about the candle shelf that Harry had searched the last time he came.

Everytime he burned that candle, he thought of the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about the different items in the shop and how she smiled at him when he asked her a question.

Harry had never been one to jump into things quickly. He was the kind of guy that liked to get a feel for a situation before he really dived into it. But there was something about this girl that made him want to jump in head first, fearless. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her, daydreaming about little scenarios that he wished would happen between them.

He knows he sounds crazy, but he has a crush on her. And he’d only met her once! That is so not like him at all.

Y/n turned once again, sure that she had calmed the burning in her cheeks, greeting Harry as if she hadn’t thought of him in weeks.

“Welcome in,” she says, wondering if it would be weird to him if she remembered who he was, she decided she doesn’t care, “Oh, hi Harry!”

“Hello Y/n!” He smiles. Y/n felt her heart stutter in her chest when her name fell from his lips. As if she was floating (she had to check to make sure she actually wasn’t), she followed the sound of his voice, going to stand before him. Her first instinct was to hug him, and she was very sad that she had to stop herself.

“What brings you back?” She asked, itching to reach out and hold his hand. His gaze flits around for a few seconds before landing back on her face, a rose tint now on his cheeks.

“I- uh, I don’t really know. I just felt like I needed to come back…” He stuttered. A smile graced her lips, causing an identical one to grow on his own. Asteria watched from behind the counter, beaming at the couple.

“Y/n dear, who’s this?” The witch called. Y/n snapped out of her love-drunk haze, looking to her mother.

“Mama, this is Harry. He came in a few weeks ago while you were away.” She answered, giving her a look that said “please don’t say anything.” Asteria had a tendency to butt into her daughter's life, and Y/n needed to figure this out on her own.

Thea came flouncing out from whichever corner she had burrowed herself into and nosed at Harry’s feet before launching herself onto Y/n’s shoulder and staring at Harry from her new height advantage.

“Well look at you Thea, sittin’ all pretty up there!” Harry reached out to scratch behind her ears. Thea began purring loudly, louder than she did when Y/n petted her (Y/n did her best not to roll her eyes at her attention whore cat). The one thing the girl loved about this was now she had a reason to step closer to the boy before her. He smelled like citrus and woods, with a hint of weed (she’s not judging, she just wouldn’t peg him for a stoner so it’s a little surprising). She let it take over her senses until all she could think about was HaryHaryHary, having to stop herself from purring just like the cat.

“Well, whatever led you back here, it’s nice to see you again!” She blushed, deciding to let her affection for him shine through lightly. Y/n realized she didn’t really want to waste time dancing around mortal niceties. She didn’t want to scare him off but she wouldn’t feign disinterest. The witch wanted to make it clear she was smitten with him. So this was her way of starting slow, letting her blushes be seen, maybe resting a gentle hand on his bicep if he says something that makes her laugh, letting her longing gazes be caught before she looks away.

Like she said before, she’s going to start slow.

“I am too…” Harry wondered if maybe she felt the things he was feeling too. If she couldn’t stop thinking about him the way he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He wondered if it would be weird to ask her out. See if she wanted to get dinner with him, or have a picnic in a park on a sunny afternoon while he stared, as uncreepily as he could, at her bright smile and star-stricken eyes.

Very quickly, like it almost didn’t happen, Y/n saw a blush pink haze surrounding the boy. He was feeling love. The heat in her cheeks rose, fluttering of her heart increasing.

Now she knew for sure, he was her soulmate for love- not friendship. Thank the Stars!

* .

. * .

The next few weeks, Harry would come in every few days just to see Y/n. After realizing that she might be feeling the way he was, he wanted to make it clear to her that he was smitten. So he’d come in after he got done with whatever he’d been doing that day, bring her flowers or a blue-raspberry red bull italian soda (he saw her drinking one one day when he came by) and they would talk and sometimes he’d bring food if it was late and they would eat at the counter in the back kitchen. It became a routine, and he started showing up almost everyday. On slower days, she would close up early, so as not to have a single distraction from her Flame.

The two would talk about the most obscure things, not giving a rat if others heard them cackling at each other's jokes and misspeakings (Y/n stumbled over her words quite a bit when she was tired, he came to realize. He thought it was adorable).

In return for the beautiful flowers and the delicious drinks he’d bring her, Y/n would give him little spell jars or charmed items to make his life easier. He didn’t know they were spelled or charmed, but he thought it was cute how she gave him a lavender colored pen and told him he would think of her every time he wrote anything down (she had charmed it to always spell things correctly) or a little jar filled with lavender and chamomile buds, a few drops of lavender oil and a small amethyst crystal sealed in white wax to help quell the anxiety he’d been feeling with his job lately.

He appreciated them more than any material thing she could have purchased for him. He liked that she wanted him to think about her or that she wanted to do away with his ailments. He came in with a cold once and she spent the better part of an hour fussing over him, telling him all these little tricks to clear his sinuses and giving him different blends of herbs and spices that should clear this up in no time! He thought she was very adorable, worrying over a little cold and wanting to make him better.

Harry found that each time he left her, the force that pulled him to her grew stronger. He wanted to be in her presence more and more every time he walked out the door of the shop. The boy still didn’t really understand what it was about her, but he’s long since stopped asking questions and was just rolling with the punches.

Speaking of things Y/n did that Harry thought was cute- the things she said enamoured him, rendered him so speechless sometimes all he could do was sit there and look at her, (ironically) wondering what magical force brought her to him. He had no idea that the Universe herself was the one who chose his favorite girl.

“Oh Stars Thea! Get out of the nettle! It makes you sneeze, silly cat!”

“Stars forbid you ever listen to me, mother.”

“Althea Rose get your furry ass away from that hot wax before I feed you to the hellhounds!”

He loved how she was always saying Stars where he would normally say Jesus Christ. He never was one to be into religion but it was just something people around him said.

As the weeks went by, they began to sit closer and closer to each other. What started as across the table from one another, began to turn into her at the head and him on the corner next to her, then both of them sitting on one side but a bit of space between them, and then side by side, thighs touching, on the bench seat. Eventually, Y/n would lay one of her legs over his and he would rest his hand innocently on her skin, his thumb absentmindedly brushing back and forth, tapping his fingers to an imaginary beat as she told him a story about a kooky customer that came in.

That was another thing he loved that she said a lot: kooky.

Their goodbyes had grown more and more affectionate over time as well. From a little wave and a shy smile to a little hug, to a bear hug with a kiss on the temple from Harry.

Things were moving very swimmingly. Y/n was happy with the progress the two had made in getting to know each other. She had learned that he worked at a marketing firm but his passion was music, that he was in a band when he was in high school, and he’s from a village in Manchester.

Harry learned that Y/n has a degree in herbology and really likes the woods, and the show The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (despite the inaccurate depiction of witches, she thinks the characters are pretty).

Y/n has been trying to figure out the best way to tell Harry about her… lifestyle. It’s going to be a big shift in his reality and she worries that she’s going to overwhelm him. Her parents didn’t have this problem because they were both witches, but she had been fated to a mortal, which she’s not complaining about because loves Harry and all his human afflictions (loves!), but it’s quite a task keeping him in the dark until she’s ready to shed light on everything.

Especially on a day like today.

Her mother is out again, leaving her in charge of the store, again! And as previously mentioned, Y/n gets a little strung up when she’s left in charge. She’s forgetful, her mind flying all over the place. Her messiness gets worse, leaving different things all over the place (she somehow left a grimoire in the refrigerator at home), losing things… Basically, Y/n’s not doing so hot at the moment.

A busy spell had just finished, she had like 7 different customers in at once, all of them needing her for different things and all the chamomile and lavender oil rubbed behind her ear in the world couldn’t calm the anxiety flowing through her at the moment. She’d been so strung up that she hadn’t noticed the warm golden shiver running down her spine or all the hair on her body raising to attention or the jingle of the bells on the door when Harry walked in.

Walked in to see… the brooms sweeping up by themselves? And different pots and pans flying back into place… with no one carrying them. And Y/n muttering words he didn’t understand while her fingers wiggled, making the pestle inside what he learned to be called a mortar, moving by itself.

To say the least, Harry was very confused. And a little scared. Was he dreaming? Did today even happen? Was he still at home lying in bed?

The only thing that makes him realize he’s not is the shriek Y/n let’s out when she sees him standing frozen in the doorway, eyebrows pulled together in confusion (and a little bit of terror), mouth agape like he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start. All at once, every moving item ceased and dropped, including the pots and pans which made a very loud noise, scaring Thea so much that she did the loud “meow!” that you only hear cats do in movies, and Y/n let out a quiet“Shit!”

“Harry…” She muttered, standing up slowly and treading towards him.

“Um… Y/n. What- what the fuck… was all of that?” He stuttered, and she continued to walk to him.

“Love, why don’t we go sit down and I’ll explain everything to you!” Y/n said slowly. She had taken to calling him Love lately, not being able to stop herself. They had yet to really “confess their feelings” to the other, but it was like a silent thing that no one said but they both just knew. So the name didn’t surprise him. Actually in the midst of all this craziness (and how his whole world had just seemed to be flipped in a matter of 5 seconds) he was clinging to the familiarity of the pet name.

He nodded, his eyes glazing over as he tried to wrap his head around what he was seeing. Y/n waved her wrist, everything that had dropped seeming to come to life again and be put back into their rightful places. Harry stared in amazement. Seeing it for the second time really drove the nail into the coffin that holy shit this is really happening…

They sat down side by side on the bench where they normally did but Y/n didn’t put her leg over his like they had grown used to. She missed the contact but figured a little space while she explained everything would be best for her Flame. Harry didn’t agree and tugged her closer to him. She didn’t fight it.

“Ok,” She sighed, cracking her knuckles as she took a deep breath, “Harry… my darling Harry. I need you to keep an open mind while I tell you all of this ok? It’s gonna be a lot for you to take in and I don’t want you to get a headache.” He nodded, and she took his hands in her own, running her thumb over his palm and channeling positive energy between the two of them. She saw Harry relax a little, letting her know it worked. He was ready (as ready as he could be) to hear what she had to say.

“Love, I’m a witch.” She says, letting it sink in for a moment. Harry doesn’t say anything for a moment. Y/n wonders if he’s even breathing. The strong pulse thumping in his wrist is a steady reminder that he’s ok, just shocked. (Very, very shocked).

“I come from a very long line of very powerful witches. I have magic, kind of like you see in movies and tv shows except I don’t worship the devil or eat children. None of us do. We’re usually very gentle creatures, unless we’re put in danger. Witches don’t use magic to hurt others, quite the opposite actually.”

“So… you cast spells and stuff?” He asks quietly. She breathes a laugh through her nose, nodding her head, continuing to channel him by rubbing her thumbs over his palms.

“I do, that’s what you saw me doing at the counter. I was actually strengthening the anti-anxiety jar I gave you a few weeks ago, because you told me you had a big project coming up and I didn’t want you to get too stressed out.” The girl said.

Harry couldn’t really focus on one thing for too long, letting his gaze flit around the kitchen area. He felt oddly… calm.

“Why do I feel so calm right now? I feel like I should be freaking out a little bit more than I am…” He voiced, finally looking into her eyes.

“I’m channeling you… look.” She said, pointing her gaze to their hands. He sees her thumbs rubbing gentle circles into his palms and looks back into her eyes.

“You’re casting a spell on me right now?” Harry wonders out loud.

“Channeling isn’t necessarily a spell, I’m just focusing and directing positive energy onto you right now, to help keep you calm. Like I said, I don’t want you to get a headache or pass out on me. I can stop if you want me to though!” She added quickly at the end but he shook his head.

“No, don’t stop…” He almost cried, pulling her closer to him.

“Ok, I won’t. It’s ok!” She shushed him, letting one of her hands float to his cheek, brushing over his cheek bone and pushing a fallen curl out of his eyes, before her hand found his again.

“Was it a spell that made me want to come in here that first day?”

“No baby, that’s actually a little different. This might be a little much so you gotta bear with me ok?” She explained and he nodded, heaving out a heavy breath.

A beat of silence passes and Y/n lets her eyes lock with his.

“We’re Twin Flames… or what you would know as Soulmates. We were fated to be together. That’s why you felt a pull to come in here. We were… destined… to meet each other.”

Harry doesn’t say anything and Y/n feels like her heart is about to beat out of her chest. She knew he was going to find out someday, but really didn’t expect that day to be this one. This crazy long day where everything had seemed to just bubble over and explode. She should have known something was going to happen when this morning, the flame on the candle she had lit for Harry on her altar was taller than it ever had been. She had written it off to him just thinking about her or something (if this was the case, it would be to the ceiling all day everyday because he never stops thinking about her), but she should have known. And now, here she was, terrified that Harry was going to walk away from her. She would understand if he did, it’s a lot to take in, and having your whole world flipped on its head is a bit much.

It would still break her heart though.

“So… this is normal?” Harry broke his silence.

“Is what normal?”

“That I want to be around you all the time? That I think about you all the time? What I’m feeling is normal?”

Y/n’s face softens. He’s so cute, she thinks. She could just wrap him up in a little bow and keep him all to herself for the rest of time.

“Yes, baby. It’s normal! I’ve been feeling the same things as you ever since we first met!” Harry’s mind is a little clearer now, so he picks up on the new pet name. Baby. He likes it, he decides.

“You feel this way too?” He looks like a little puppy right now, Y/n could just cry. She nodded her head, scooting impossibly closer to him, practically sitting in his lap. It seemed now that he was even calmer than he had been before, even without her channeling. She stopped for a second to test his reaction and he was ok. He didn’t tense up, eyes didn’t well in tears, didn’t lose consciousness. So she moved her hands to cup his cheeks now, feeling him lean into her touch.

“You’ve been the only thing on my mind since before you even walked through the door that first day. You’re in my dreams every night, I see you every time I close my eyes, I’m completely taken with everything you do.” Y/n confesses, feeling a weight lift off her chest.

“I know it seems fast to you, as a mortal. Your kind usually takes this kind of thing slowly, really learns a person before you become vulnerable. Out of fear for being judged or whatever it might be, but I would never judge you. I want you to know it’s ok to let your guard down with me. Whatever you're comfortable with! I don’t want to overwhelm you in any way, and I know all of this is so so much to take in. I just want what’s best for you, my Love.”

It’s not lost on Harry that she adds my before Love. He feels his heart flutter.

“I’m taken with everything you do too. Absolutely everything.” He whispers, if he speaks too loudly the moment might be lost.

They stare into each other's eyes, feeling the energy in the room grow. Flames from the lit candles around the room grow tenfold, reflecting the rising energy. Harry has half a mind to break his gaze from the girl before him, seeing the tall flames before bringing his eyes back to hers. He sees her gaze drop to his lips repeatedly. He doesn’t think she even realizes that she’s leaning in to him, but he’s not going to stop her.

When she’s so close he can feel her breath fanning over his face, she pauses, looking back up to his eyes, silently asking for permission. With her hands still cupping his cheeks gently, she closes the distance between them, pressing her lips delicately to his. Harry places his hands in two places: her waist and her neck. He pulls her in closer, pressing their lips together more firmly. A wildfire spreads from head to toe on both of them. It seems as though time has paused for this very moment, and again the earth shifts. A piece of the universe has just been restored, two halves of a soul reunited.

Harry’s fingertips send sparks flowing down her spine, she hums against his lips. The kiss is simple, just two people getting to know each other, learning the other's body, but it’s long. It’s not just one peck. Harry presses his lips against hers multiple times, slotting her bottom between both of his.

When Y/n pulls back to catch her breath, Harry chases after her, not ready to end this moment yet. She chuckles and grants him a few more kisses until she really is about to pass out because she needs to breathe. Pushing him gently, she breaks the kiss and rests her forehead against his, keeping her eyes closed.

She so badly wants to let the three words sitting on the tip of her tongue go, but doesn’t want to overwhelm him with too much all at once.

“Do you feel that?” He whispers, pulling her to sit astride his lap. She moves pliantly, letting him take control of the situation.

The air feels charged, thick, like it should be hard to breath but it flows, smooth as water, into their lungs.

Y/n’s head feels heavy, like she’s high on every drug there ever was, her mind fuzzy, unable to think outside of this moment. Outside of this little wrinkle in time where Harry is the only other thing that exists.

“Yeah,” She whispers back, reconnecting their lips, slotting them together over and over until their lips are puffy and red. Harry slides his hands around her waist, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, not even a slip of paper would fit.

Pulling away, Harry heaves in a deep breath, squeezing Y/n’s hips.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long…” He says, nudging his nose against hers. She smiles, letting his affections wash over her, warming her eternal soul.

“This doesn’t freak you out?”

“Oh, I’m so freaked out but I'm kind of just going with it, living in the ambiguity and all that shit.” He heaves a laugh through his nose, pressing kisses to her cheek and down her neck, smoothing his hands up and down her back.

This was the best possible outcome of the situation, if Y/n had to be honest. It could have gone so many ways. Harry being freaked out but rolling with it… she’ll take it.

“How about we make dinner and you can ask me any questions you have?” She suggested and he nodded.

So they did just that. But Y/n closed the shop early and they went back to her place. Hand in hand they walked the few blocks, side glaces of reassurance and little squeezes of the hand, letting the other know they were there, and they weren’t going anywhere, with Thea in her little travel backpack (that she was absolutely in love with surprisingly).

They came upon an unsuspecting alleyway. Harry thought they were just passing through as a shortcut but Y/n stopped walking in the middle of a blank brick wall and muttered a few words she didn’t understand while waving her hands. He started to realize maybe this wasn’t just a shortcut.

Before his eyes, a door appeared. His brows shot up in surprise (he’s gonna get worry lines on his forehead if he doesn’t stop doing that, he realizes). Y/n looked over her shoulder at him, trying to hide a smirk but the look on his face was too good.

“Pretty wicked huh?” Harry didn't say anything, just chuckled and nodded, following her when she opened the door and a set of stairs appeared. Walking up the dimly lit hallway, they come to another door with the cheeky The Witch Is In sign.

“Cute.” Harry smirks at her and she laughs, opening it and letting him walk through first.

“Make yourself at home! I’ve got records on the shelf over there, you can pick one if you want. I’m just gonna feed Thea and get her all settled and we can get to making dinner.” Y/n explained. Harry ventured off into her living room, seeing the shelf she was talking about and browsing through. There were many different artists from Fleetwood Mac to Taylor Swift to Weezer. He picks out Hozier's self-titled album and puts it on, the beginning of Take Me To Church crackling through the speakers.

“Good choice,” He hears from behind him and smiles, turning around to see the girl he was apparently destined to spend the rest of his life with standing before him.

“Jackie and Wilson has been stuck in my head the last few days so,” He said, sauntering over to her and snaking his arms around her waist.

Taking a look around, he sees many different trinkets and items similar to what was in the shop. A lot of jars filled with different things, candles of all different colors, crystals, a broom (he didn’t realize witches actually had brooms but ok), among other things that he didn’t know the purpose of.

“Wait… how are there windows in here? I didn’t see any outside.” He asked, pulling back from the hug and looking at her.

“Well, there aren’t any windows in the alley. But there’s also a glamour spell on this building so nobody can see my apartment. That’s why you can’t see the door until I do the little thing you saw me do.” She answered. A sheepish smile broke onto his face.

“Oh,” he said and she laughed from her chest, petting a few fallen curls back from his forehead. She could get used to this, she thinks as she stares into his eyes, green as the forest and wide with wonder at everything he’s discovered today.

Who knew the girl he was falling in love with would be a witch… with actual powers.

* .

. * .

“Wait so, if no one can see your front door… how do you get mail?” Harry asked, reaching around Y/n for the salt.

“At the shop,”

“Oh,” He says. She laughs, kissing his cheek and continuing on cutting up veggies for the salad they're making.

“Have you always been able to do magic or was it something you grew into?” Y/n thought back to when she was little, remembering how she struggled to harness her powers for a few years before she started getting the hang of things.

“I always had powers, but imagic isn’t something you just wake up and know how to do so it took a while for me to really settle into and control. Magic is a skill, same as reading and writing, so I had to be taught and I had to work on it. Does that make sense?” She pauses while she explains, looking into his eyes. Harry nods, but his light hearted curious expression turns into one of embarrassment and she doesn’t understand why.

A rosy red color surrounds him, telling her he was feeling… embarrassed? Why did he feel embarrassed?

“Baby? What’s going through your head?” She asks, wanting to help him feel better.

She doesn’t like when he’s feeling anything other than happy!

“I just… I feel like I’m asking you so many questions about all of this stuff and it’s just tough to wrap my head around I guess.” She puts the knife down and sets her hand on his wrist, stopping from what he’s doing. She places her other hand on his shoulder, coaxing him to face her.

“Harry, this is a lot to take in, yeah? It’s not something you can just find out and move on from. It’s gonna take time to process. You’re gonna feel a lot of emotions, and that’s ok! I would be worried if you weren’t feeling a little off, as much as I hate that you’re not feeling 100%.”

She places a series of gentle pecks on his lips, doing her best to soothe him in any way.

“Ask all the questions you want! You don’t have to worry about being judged or saying something wrong, you have a right to be curious.” She feels him relax in her hold which in turn makes her relax.

“Thank you for being patient with me,”

He’ll get used to this, he thinks. He’ll get used to the fact that real witches actually exist, he’ll start to understand the words she mutters when she waves her hands, he’ll get it eventually. But right now, he doesn’t really get it, he’s not really used to it. But she’s worth it. She’s worth more than everything.

“I think you’re the one thing I know how to be patient with,” Again, she wants to mutter those three words on the tip of her tongue, but he’s already been through so much today, she doesn’t want to overwhelm him any more than he already is. So she’ll wait, because one day (hopefully soon) he’ll be ready to hear them.

“Can you do a spell? I kind of want to see how they work…” Harry asks after a moment of them just enjoying the silence that only really comes when two people understand each other.

She chuckles and nods, telling him she will show him a few spells after dinner. He agrees and they go back to making their meal, dancing around each other and laughing just like they always did and it felt good. Felt like this would be ok. Y/n was still scared because he could still decide to leave, that this was too much for him. That she was too much for him.

But for right now, things were ok.

* .

. * .

“Amoris et lux sum ego ipse, et carorum beatum facere potest, per potentiam solem et lunam, ut superius, et inferius.”

(I am love and light, I bring happiness to myself and my loved ones, By the power of the sun and moon, as above, so below)

Harry doesn’t think he’s ever heard anything weirder in his life...and his college roommate freshman year was a conspiracy theorist.

As Y/n spoke the words, she stirred a brew of tea infused with different herbs clockwise. He watched from beside her as she did this, his hand placed on her thigh so that his energy could be used in the spell along with hers.

Before she said the spell, she told him to set an intention and he had no idea what that was so she did a little lesson after reassuring him that his question was valid. (He’s still feeling insecure about not understanding anything she was talking about.) She told him to “close your eyes, take a deep breath, and clear your mind. Think of something you want in life that isn’t material.”

His immediate thought was that he wanted to spread kindness and love in the world (Y/n did her best not to tear up at her Flame’s pure intentions) so she nodded, telling him to think about that and only that, and set her intentions to the same thing so the spell would work. Mixing lavender, rose petals, and chamomile in a large mug, she pours in hot water to steep the herbs and, as previously mentioned, stirs it clockwise (something about clockwise being for manifestation), , rubs her palms together and snaps her fingers, and snuffs out the candles she had lit.

When all is said and finished, Y/n pulls Harry into a sweet kiss, and then has him take a sip of the tea telling him be careful my Love, it’s still hot. He kisses her back, taking a sip of the tea (he’d never been one for lavender things but this was actually really good. He wonders if it has anything to do with the fact that Y/n made it).

“So we just drink this and then what?” He asks, handing her the mug.

“We sacrifice an animal,” She says, not skipping a beat and taking her sip. Harry chokes on his spit, gasping for a breath of air before the girl bursts into a fit of giggles.

“I’m just kidding, baby. That’s it. That’s the whole spell. You just have to honestly believe it for it to work.” She says and he heaves a sigh of relief.

“Don’t joke like that!” He whines, more giggles escaping from Y/n’s throat.

“I’m sorry bub, I won’t do that anymore.” She says, still fighting off laughs. They continue to sip the tea, Y/n telling Harry about different things she did during the day.

Harry looked upon her as if she hung the moon just for him, and was telling him all about how she did it. Without even realizing it, he started to feel warmer and like a buzz was coursing through his veins.

“I feel weird…”

“What do you mean you mean you feel weird?” She voiced, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead and then feeling his pulse. Both were normal.

“I feel warm and like I’m buzzing… Kind of like I’m high…” He explained and she nodded her head, a small sigh of relief escaping her.

“That’s the spell working baby. You’re ok!”

“Oh, ok. It just worried me a little,”

“You’re ok! I want you to tell me when something worries you or feels different or off.” She says, and places a hand on his thigh. Harry agrees and they continue with their conversation.

When they both took their last sips on the tea, they cuddled up on the couch, an incense stick and candle lit on the coffee table.

Y/n sat, manipulating the smoke and flame simultaneously while Harry watched with a wide eyed gaze. She had explained how this was something he would be able to learn if he wanted to, and that she had been practicing for years to be able to do both things at the same time.

“I started when I was… I want to say 5. It’s a simple skill that promotes concentration. You have to stay extremely focused to even manipulate one element at a time. It’s only been these last few years that I’ve been able to concentrate enough to do both.” She explained, taking a break. As much as she loved showing Harry all these different things, it took a lot of energy out of her and it had already been a dreadfully long day.

“How about we go to sleep and I’ll show you more tomorrow? I’m pooped!” Harry hums an agreement, lifting his head from her lap and letting her lead the way to her bedroom.

Light lavender walls adorned with shelves full of plants and different nicknacks, and a desk with more candles, herbs, and other eclectic items sat atop it.

“What is all of this?” He sifts through all the things on the desk, not touching as Y/n had explained to him at some point today, I know you don’t have any ill intent, but a lot of this stuff absorbs other people's energy which can mess up what I use it for, so look and don’t touch. If you want a closer look, I’ll pick it up. There are different colored stones of varied shapes and sizes and many candles. One in particular catches his eyes. A green one with a very tall flame with something carved into the side of it. “What’s up with this green candle?”

“This is my altar, and the green candle is the one I have lit for you. I’m assuming that because you’re here, it’s going a little crazy. Nothing to be afraid of! I’m actually going to put it out since you’re here with me.” She explained quickly, reaching towards the flame with her finger and snuffing it out.

“Wait, you had a candle lit for me?” His eyes rounded, a shy smile coming onto his lips. An identical smile graced her features as she turned to look at him.

“Yeah, I’ve had one lit for you since the day we met. I made a sigil and carved it into the side and keep it lit day and night as an extra layer of protection for you.” She explained. Harry felt his heart melt at this.

She couldn’t get any cuter, he thinks.

A candle lit for him… to keep him safe. That’s adorable.

He leans in and places a gentle kiss on her lips, brushing the little hairs away from her face.

Y/n led him further into her room where her ensuite bathroom was, giving him a tooth brush and letting him know he could shower if he wanted to. When he came back into the room after getting ready, Y/n laid out on the bed in a sports bra and shorts. He just wore his boxers.

Climbing into bed next to her, she cuddled up to him right away, his arm finding a home around her body and her head laid on his chest, listening to his heart beat.

“Been dreaming about this moment my whole life,” Y/n mumbled, cheek smushed against his skin, making her look all cute and cuddly. Harry had to hold back a coo at the sentiment.

“Me too Moppet, me too,” He sighed, and they both drifted off into warm, fluffy, dream-like states, wrapped in the safety of each other's arms.

* .

. * .

Walking down the street at night isn’t the best idea for normal women, Y/n had learned over her 22 years of life. But Y/n is not a normal woman. She’s a witch.

And while most women carry their keys between their knuckles and have tasers or pepper spray or mace at the ready, Y/n didn’t really need that. This was one of the only instances where she would use her magic to harm anyone. Like she’d said before- only when she’s put in danger (or someone else around her is put in danger).

So when a prick who reeks of whiskey starts tailing her, she waits for him to take the first blow. Waits for him to get a little too close, so she can turn around and unleash her wrath on him. All the while making it seem like it’s not her doing. Like causing a brink to fall off the roof above her and hit him in the head. She wouldn’t actually do that but a witch could dream.

No, she’ll trip him up without turning around and if he still insists on gaining her attention, she’ll spin around quick, flick her wrist and send him into an unconscious daze and let him sleep off his inebriation on the lovely warmth of the concrete sidewalk.

That’s exactly what she does.

“Hey sweetheart, where you goin’?” He slurs, beginning his trek behind her. She’s unresponsive which leads him to believe she’s playing hard to get because his fragile little man ego can’t fathom that a woman would ignore his attention.

“Oh c’mon baby don’t be like that!” He speeds up, already wobbling but this only serves to make him clumsier.

She does her thing, flicking her wrist in his direction (discreetly) so he trips, but this doesn’t stall him. He reaches out, effectively grabbing her arm. She whips around to face him, cheeks growing red hot with anger. Ripping her arm out of his grasp and twisting his arm around, she gets close to his face.

“Touch me again, I fucking dare you!” She snarls, doesn’t even realize her grip is burning into his flesh- her magic gets a little crazy when she’s mad. Releasing him (tossing his arm away from her in a rough manner), she flicks her wrist once again and mutters a quick “et obliviscere somnum*”, watching him fall to the ground, unconscious. She looked around to see if anyone was watching the scene go down but no one was sober enough to pay attention to some drunk bloke harassing a young woman.

*(forget and sleep)

She shakes off her frustration as she comes to a stop in front of an unfamiliar building. Where her Flame lives.

She had agreed to let him make her dinner at his house, so she packed an overnight back and made her way further into town. He had given her an address and while, yes she did use it, she also let their bond lead her to him. She just kind of knew where to go, it seemed. Harry had expressed that he felt something similar the first time he went into the shop, though he didn’t understand why he wanted to walk in- just felt like he had to.

Making her way up the stairs, she let’s Harry know she’s there, beginning to feel the familiar tingle rush down her spine. She hadn’t seen him for a week and a half since he's been busy with a project at work- a client wasn’t happy with all the work he and a coworker had done so they had to quickly re-do an entire proposal to meet the client's deadline. Needless to say- the little anti-anxiety jar she made him was coming in real handy lately. Y/n had also had him put citrine and amethyst points on his desk while he worked to help him focus and stay calm so he didn’t stress too badly.

She always had a little something to make his life easier, whether it be a stone, or a jar of different things (a spell jar, he’d learned), or whatever it may be- she always had something to help.

When she made it to his floor, he was standing there waiting for her with open arms. She ran to him, jumping into his arms and holding onto him tight.

“I missed you, my wild girl,” He muttered into her neck, spinning her around. Her face flushed without fail, her arms wrapping tighter around him.

“Missed you most,” She sighed, nuzzling into him.

“Don’t think that’s possible.”

She hummed in disagreement while he walked them inside, Y/n still wrapped around him like a koala bear. His house smelled of peach and mango. It’s sweet- just like him. The thought made her smile.

Giving him a big smacking kiss on the cheek, she pulls back to have a look at his face, seeing he’s smiling like an idiot. It warms her heart to see him smile, butterflies breaking out of their cocoons and fluttering about her tummy.

“What’re you smiling for?” She voices, giggling at him.

“M’ happy you’re here,” He sighed, “Don’t like not seeing you.”

“I don’t like not seeing you either,” She frowned, petting his wild curls back and placing little pecks all around his face.

His cheeks flushed at her affection.

Harry set Y/n down on the kitchen counter, standing in between her legs, hands resting on her hips. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers lightly, before slotting them together, fully indulging himself in his girl. She responds immediately, letting her hands rest around his neck.

She will never not be amazed by how soft his lips are. Kissing him feels like floating through clouds, like laying down in bed after a long day on your feet. Kissing him is like the first breath of warm summer air after the longest winter. Kissing him feels like coming home.

Y/n’s heartbeat picks up as the kiss becomes more needy, leaning into him further. Harry pulls her closer, his hands ghosting up the bare skin under her shirt and fiddling with the band of the bralette she’s wearing. A gasp escapes her lips when he pulled the fabric up, letting it snap back to her skin causing a smirk to grow on his face- struggling to keep up with her lips.

He kisses her breathless before pulling away, watching as her eyes flutter open and she heaves air into her lungs, her cheeks flushed and supple.

“Don’t want the food to burn,” He smirks again, hands falling away from her body, moving the pots and pans on the stove around to the counter so he could plate their dinner.

“Asshole,” He hears her mutter.

Harry could get used to this, having Y/n around. Being able to come home to her, make them dinner, make out in the kitchen, fall asleep together. He can’t believe he ever thought he loved anyone before she came along. There was just no way. Y/n came into his life and took over every aspect and now he couldn’t imagine a world without her in it. He hopes to the Stars he doesn’t have to.

Yeah, she’s got him praying to the stars now.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x witch!reader #witch!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #one direction #one direction fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #one shot #harry styles au #witch!harry #soulmate!harry #soulmates au #harry styles x soulemate!reader

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warriorcatsamino · 3 years ago

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"The only way to keep Tigerkit on a good path is to keep a close eye on him," Goosefeather muttered to himself. "I don't talk to Starclan, so why does Goosefeather think I want to be a medicine cat…?" Tigerkit started pawing at the herbs in front of him, "I want to fight." "I can't believe you're trying to force him into this," Thistleclaw growled at the older cat. "You're trying to take my apprentice from me. May I ask why?" He whipped his tail in agitation. The the gall of this bag of bones made him furious.

If you are at all familiar with any of the WA Tumblr posts, then you have probably heard of this amino’s creative clans. But for those who don’t, I will give a brief explanation. WA has a series of creative clans that can only be joined VIA audition. These clans focus on a particular skill, concept or idea in Warriors and use skills such as drawing, writing, cooking or crafts based on a prompt assigned by the leadership team. Members are required each week, every other week or month to create these assignment posts. The piece depicted above, made by Kii_CatArt on Twitter, was for a clan called Alterclan. Alterclan, according to their official wiki on WA, is a clan that “is all about asking the question "What if?" We take scenarios and major choices from the books, and create art, stories, or theories about what would happen if they had chosen the other option, or if we had gotten a different outcome. The butterfly effect is what we enjoy exploring, as one simple twist in the Warriors series can cause countless situations to come to light.”. For the month of November, one of the two prompts members could select was, “What if Goosefeather took Tigerkit in to help him onto a better path rather than treating him like a bad omen?” This was the prompt the piece above is exploring. The original artist decided to interpret the prompt as Goosefeather making Tigerkit become a medicine cat so he could keep a closer eye on him and prevent him from going into battle.

I should probably give some context for the events in the books that lead up to this idea. ⚠️Spoilers for the main series and Goosefeather’s Curse ahead⚠️ In Goosefeather’s novella, it is quickly established that Goosefeather sees dead cats and has the curse of receiving prophecies he has no control over. One prophecy he receives which is mentioned both in Pinestar’s Choice and Bluestar’s Prophecy is about Tigerkit, the only kit of Pinestar (the former leader of Thunderclan who leaves to become a kittypet) and Leopardfoot. In the vision, he sees Tigerkit’s horrible future. In Bluestar’s Prophecy Goosefeather yowls as Tigerkit approaches him, saying that the tom should have died with his littermates. Similarly in Pinestar’s Choice, Pinestar has a dream where a Starclan cat tells him to kill his own son. When Pinestar wakes up, Goosefeather encourages him to listen to Starclan, hinting to the fact he knew about the dream and Starclan’s wishes. Pinestar, of course, doesn’t end up killing Tigerkit and he grows up to be the murderous and manipulative leader of Shadowclan, killing many cats and traumatizing many more before his death at the paws of Scourge. Even after his death, he haunts of the dreams of his living sons and Dark Forest trainees and is finally brought to rest in OOTS at the Great Battle with the DF. Firestar kills him once and for all, ending his horrible reign over the forest.

I think the idea of Tigerkit becoming a medicine cat has tons of potential! It would completely shift the storyline and things would definitely have to be moved around. For one, assuming that Tigerkit would become Goosefeather’s apprentice, it’s very likely that Featherwhisker would have never become a medicine cat. Featherwhisker was Goosefeather’s apprentice and Sunstar’s littermate. Or, Goosefeather would have had two apprentices at once with Featherwhisker & Tigerkit both being mentored by him. However, I think the most likely scenario would be similar to modern day Thunderclan. I’m of course talking about the Leaf-Jay-Alder dynamic. For those not caught up with the books, Leafpool (a former medicine cat of TC) had her son Jayfeather as an apprentice. Later in AVOS, when Leafpool was still alive, Jayfeather took on his cousin Alderheart as his apprentice. The dynamic between Goose, Feather and Tiger could play out similarly with Goosefeather mentoring Featherwhisker and Featherwhisker mentoring Tigerkit when Goosefeather was still alive. There is however an issue with this idea. Featherwhisker’s apprentice, whom he gains in Spottedleaf’s Heart, was Spottedpaw aka Spottedleaf. If Featherwhisker already has an apprentice, then Spottedleaf would have most likely remained a warrior and possibly become Thistleclaw’s mate. Unless of course, Featherwhisker take on two apprentices or die prior to Spottedleaf’s apprenticeship. In that case, Tigerkit (would his medicine cat name still be Tigerclaw or something else?) would mentor Spottedleaf, meaning Thunderclan would have two medicine cats at the time of Rusty entering the clans. Likewise, Spottedleaf would have most likely not died as she would have her mentor there to protect her. Unless of course Tigerclaw died prior to Into the Wild. In that case, Thunderclan would still be left without a medicine cat and Yellowfang would be accepted it. Without Tigerclaw as a villain, the first series would lack a lot of the tension it had and Bluestar would have to select a different cat for deputy after Lionheart’s death. Actually, now that I think of it, Lionheart most likely would never be deputy as Redtail would still be alive. Now this plot could also be warped differently, for instance if Tigerclaw became an evil medicine cat and used herbs to kill Bluestar. Most likely he would have succeeded and put one of his lackeys (Longtail, Darkstripe or Dustpelt most likely) in the leadership position where he could manipulate them to do his bidding. The point I’m trying to make is a medicine cat Tigerclaw AU has a cacophony of different paths it could take.

But, me and the rest of the SM team would LOVE to hear what YOU think on this matter! Do you like the idea of a Tigerclaw medicine cat AU? How do you think it would play out in the books? Do you think Tigerclaw would remain evil or turn good? How would the cats around him (Goose, Feather, Spotted, Thistle, Blue, Pine, Golden, Bramble, Hawk, Sasha, etc) be affected by this choice? How would the succession of medicine cats work out? How would the plot be affected? Would he keep his warrior name? Leave all your thoughts, opinions and feedback in the comments below.

If you liked the art style depicted here, I’d highly recommend checking on the original post on Amino and leaving a like. Directly supporting the original artist not only makes them happy but benefits this account greatly. It motivates more creators to allow use to post their work. This gives this account more content to post for you guys! Do you want to see more Warriors based content? Join the Warriors Amino where we have a fun and active community which posts daily about the battle cats you know and love.

Original Post linked here.

Original Artist linked here.

~ 🍵🥔

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imagine-this-fandom · 5 years ago

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The Rescue: Black cat Aizawa x Fem! Reader

Part 2 off the Rescue series: first part here

Inko led you back to the main room, absolutely giddy with excitement. You had to admit, it was a bit contagious!

She pulled you to a stop in front of the sleepy black cat from earlier. He was large but kind of lanky with black fur and intelligent yellow eyes. What drew you in however, was a scar under his right eye. Poor thing... you wondered how he got it. As you got closer, he opened a single eye to observe you, but didn't move aside from that. Despite his apparent lack of interest, you could see that he was wary. He had all the appearance of being at ease, except he was just a little too stiff, his body was poised to move if he needed to.

"This, is Aizawa. Don't mind his attitude, he's a real sweetheart once you get to know him. But he's really laid back and loves to sleep more than anything. And he's really smart! I think you two would get along splendidly!"

You bit your lip as thinking hard. He didn't really seem to like you, but that's probably because you were new to him and a possible threat in his eyes... maybe he just needs a little push? You smiled gently at the cat and kneeled to his level, offering him your hand to sniff.

"Hello Aizawa, I'm (y/n) . It's a pleasure to meet you."

He looked at the offered limb and then at Inko before focusing on you once more. He reached out a paw and placed it in you hand and gave the deepest meow you'd ever heard in your life. It had an a tired rasp to it that was so unlike the meow you were expecting. The smile melted off your face and turned to one of shock. You could have sworn he looked smug at your reaction before he pulled his paw away and stretched before hopping down and winding his way between your legs, seeming to approve of Inko's choice in you as a perspective owner.

"Awww! See? He likes you too! You should definitely take him home!"

You reached down, scratching the top of his head. As unusual as he was, he was also the cutest cat you'd ever seen. So of course you had to say yes.

"I'll take him. I'd love to take him home with me."

"Perfect! I'll just get you some of the basics! Oh, and don't forget his scarf, he loves that thing."

You nodded and reached down, carefully scooping the cat into your arms before reaching for the pile of thin fabric he had previously made his bed. He seemed to relax in your arms, fairly laid back for a cat. It seemed like he didn't really care what happened to him so long as he wasn't jostled or bothered by your movements.

"Come on sleepy boy, let's go home." He settled down and promptly fell back asleep, head resting on your shoulder as your footsteps rocked him to sleep once more.

*timeskip*

"Aizawa! I'm home!"

Coming home the first night, you assumed that he was really laid back. And that's true in a way, but he was also extremely stubborn. He had decided that he had to sleep on the bed. You were lucky to have a decent sized mattress, because he made himself right at home in the middle of it. Attempting to move him lead to a scratched hand and an irritated cat. Meanie. After that, you just kind of let him settle where he pleased. That meant that sleeping contorted around him the first night rather than risk moving him again.

"I hope you appreciate this, brat"

You got a hiss in response but just responded with a childish hiss of your own. You were cold and tired from your long day and did not want to put up with a stubborn feline. You debated taking him back to Inko that night just for his attitude, but ultimately decided against it. It may just be the fact that You were a stranger and the surroundings were still new to him. Maybe he just needed time to adjust.

Sleep was difficult, but you did eventually drift off, tucked against the side of the bed. Waking up you found yourself now in the middle of the bed with Aizawa tucked against your side. Crap. Any previous misgivings about keeping him melted away at the sight of his peaceful form. The little jerk was adorable. You smiled sleepily carefully running your fingers over his back. He stretched and made a cute trill like noise as he started to wake up.

"Hey pretty boy? Did you sleep well? "

You pet down his back as you watched his eyes open and focus lazily on your form. He yawned before angling into the pets so you would get the top of his head. You happily obliged, giving him some good head scritches before rubbing his chin, earning some purrs from your administrations. As soon as they started, they stopped though as he pulled away from your touch, almost looking embarrassed by the sound he made.

"Awww, someone a little shy?"

he gave an unimpressed look before getting off the bed, tail flicking in what you assumed was annoyance.

"Oh I see now... You're too mature for affection, huh? We'll see how long that- wait. No get down, don't you dare."

While you had been teasing him, he had made his way onto you dresser and now sat with his paw outstretched, poised to knock the lamp off.

"Aizawa I swear if you knock that over... "

The little jerk seemed to grin at you. He looked straight at you with a smug toothy expression that screamed he would absolutely wreck the lamp.

"Bet."

He knocked it down.

You groaned, running your palms down your face in exasperation.

"You sir, are a freakishly smart cat. I'm going to clean this up, take a shower, and then we are going to start over and have breakfast, Mkay?"

He gave a deep meow and trotted off into living room, satisfied that you wouldn't tease him again. His work was done, the brat.

Meanwhile, you did what you said you would and cleaned up before getting ready for work. You hummed to yourself as you walked to the kitchen, hair tie between your teeth as you pulled you (h/c) hair back. Once you were satisfied that you were put together and ready, you turned to face the little dark monster who was seated at the table, just watching .The expression he wore was bored but intelligent, and was kind of creeping you out. It was unnervingly human.

"Alright sir. I can see now that you're not like a normal cat. You don't like jokes or teasing, so here's the plan. You don't break anything, and I'll keep things professional, okay? Now will you behave? I have to go to work. I'll be back this afternoon. Explore, make this place your own. But please, don't break anything, okay?" You felt ridiculous talking to a cat, but hey he seemed to understand. He gave a curt nod and walked back into the bedroom, presumably to sleep more.

You couldn't help feeling bad leaving him on his own, but work was important. You felt a little better with the knowledge that you had the day off tomorrow, so that meant you could get to know him more then.

You filled his bowl, stopping into the bedroom to pet him one last time before going to step out. "Bye Aizawa, see you later. Have a good day."

You had been hopeful for the day ahead, but once you left your apartment... things went down hill.

Work dragged and the customers were rude, noisy, and messy. It wasn't long before you were far beyond ready to go home. You worked as a server at a relatively nice restaurant, but sometimes the guests were just too much to deal with. Towards the end of your shift was the icing on the cake for an awful day. You were distracted by the building noise as you headed for the dining room and almost ran into another coworker who hadn't announced themselves as they came around the corner. This lead to a step back to avoid them as you were carrying a large tray. The step you took ended up being into a floor drain. While you were able to keep the tray upright without dumping anything, you scarified your ankle for it, having stepped wrong and sending a jolting pain up your leg. Your eyes were watering with the pain and you were relieved when someone took the tray so you could analyze the damage.

It wasn't too bad, but it was definitely sprained. One of the other servers took the tray and served your guests while you sat in the office nursing an icepack against the offending joint . Luckily, it was at the end of your shift so your boss just decided that you could go home. However, this brought a new obstacle to attention. Unfortunately, you walk to work.

As you sat and pondered you next move, the man who caused the incident, Taro, sat down next to you

"I am so sorry about that. Are you sure you're okay?"

Now Taro wasn't the best human being in general, but he'd always been weirdly nice to you , so you didn't mind too much.

"It's okay, really. I just need to get home and rest it."

You offered him a small smile and looked at the route home on your phone, deciding if it would be worth it to limp you way home in the snow.

" Do you need a ride home? I Mean, it's the least I can do, especially because it was my fault."

He seemed really eager to help, and you didn't live far, so you decided it should be fine.

"Fine, but just this once. Alright. Then we're even."

He smiled widely and offered his hand

"It's a deal!"

TW: (Nothing intense really happens, nothing sexual, but he does ignore boundaries and doesn't listen to reader's protests. If this upsets you, please skip to the marked point which will look like this: ~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~ to continue with the story)

He helped you gather my things and led you outside to where his truck was parked. You prepared to hoist yourself in, but Taro was having none of that, opting to pick you up, insisting that he help you in. Once you were settled, he got in the driver side. You really didn't like that he picked you up, but it his actions made sense. He was just eager to help after getting you hurt, right?

As You set off, he tried to make conversation but you were too tired and in pain to really be into it, so you just let him talk and zoned out as he drove. It didn't take that long to get to your apartment, but you were still relieved to finally be back. You were beyond ready to chill on the couch with an ice pack on your ankle and a blanket wrapping you into a snuggle burrito on the couch. When you arrived Taro quickly hopped out and picked you up bridal style before you could protest much.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna drop you! I just want to make sure you're keeping weight off that ankle." He gave a big smile and carried you to your door.

"Thanks? Um, I just, You can put me down. I'll be fine now, really."

While he was trying to be nice, it was getting to be too much. You were home, you could handle it from here. Before you could voice these thoughts aloud, he had taken your keys from the bag you had been cradling and was now unlocking your front door for you. You didn't know what to do. If you tried to wiggle out of his grip, he'd drop you, but you really just wanted to go inside and put a door between the two of you.

"Please put me down. I'm really fine on my own now! "

"No (y/n). You're gonna hurt yourself again. Just let me do this for you, okay? I'm trying to help. "

The lock clicked and he pushed the door open with his shoulder before carrying you inside, much to your growing displeasure.

"Okay, I'm inside, you can put me down now! "

He heaved a long sigh and set you on the couch, watching you settle on the plush surface before smiling.

"There we go! Home safe and sound. But your ankle really doesn't look so good. I'll go make an icepack for you. Kitchen is this way right?"

He barely looked for input before starting to move about, exploring the kitchen for supplies. You watched with wide eyes, a sense of panic starting to pool in your stomach as you watched this man you barely knew stroll about your house like he belonged there.

"Taro, I appreciate you taking me home, but you should really go. I can handle this by myself. Please leave." You tried to keep a stern tone, but your words wavered more than you would have liked as your anxiety at the situation grew.

"Ah! There are the ice packs!"

He seemed to be ignoring You so you struggled to your feet in an attempt to force him to leave. This backfired spectacularly as he saw you up and moving and was immediately displeased.

"Oh no! (y/n), You should be resting. Sit down."

As he moved to walk back towards you a black form leaped from on top of a shelf to land between you both. Aizawa stared up at Taro and hissed, a long warning yowl left him as the fur on his spine raised, tail puffed up in rage. Taro took a step back before shaking his head.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~~-~-~-~-

"Furball here doesn't seem to like me. But that's okay, I'm just here to make sure you'll be alright."

"And you have. Now leave. I am fine and I would like you to go. Now."

You spoke with all the confidence you had at that moment and glared at him to reiterate your point. He moved to take a step forward, but quick as lightning, Aizawa sprang forward and clawed his ankle with a fury.

Taro cursed and kicked out, sending Aizawa flying before booking it to the door.

"I was just trying to help and your crazy little cat ******* attacked me! What the hell!? I'm getting out of here!"

He shot one last angry look at you before storming out. As soon as the door slammed shut, you were hobbling in the direction Aizawa had gone. You were relieved when he came running back for the door, as if to fight round two if needed. Once you were sure Taro was gone, you collapsed back onto the couch. More than ever grateful that Taro hadn't pushed and used his quirk against your pet.

"It's alright Aizawa, he's gone."

The cat hopped up onto the couch beside you and sniffed at your ankle, examining you with a concern uncharacteristic of a cat. You patted the space next to you and sighed happily as he walked over.

"Thank you. I don't know what I would have done without you. He was starting to scare me there."

You scratched the top of his head affectionately and placed a kiss between his ears.

"Thank you Aizawa. You're my hero."

You carefully wrapped yourself in a blanket and pulled him into your lap. He seemed content to sit there as you pet him, occasionally glancing back to check on you. Although you didn't dare say it out loud in case he took offense, he was absolutely adorable like this.

You two spent the rest of the evening like that. He slept in your lap as you pet him and watched movies on the couch. You don't know when it happened, but you eventually fell asleep like that.

This quickly became a routine. You would come home from work, you'd have dinner, and then would migrate to the couch to read or watch TV. Aizawa would find his way into your lap and you would pet him while he napped. This was your normal. While you still think he's freakishly smart for a cat, he had absolutely grown on you. His grumpiness was still there, but you started to understand it more and how to deal with his moods. Mostly he just wanted to sleep, but when he was active, it was almost scary. Cats are predators, but it was just really jarring to watch him shift from this lazy sleepy cat to an intense and precise weapon. You'd only seen it a few times with minor threats like a bee that flew in or the one time a rat had come in while you were bringing in groceries. And he was especially cautious when you came home and would check you over as soon as you walked in the door to make sure you were okay before letting his guard down.

Regardless of the threat, Aizawa would always make sure he had it covered. Afterwards, you were always quick to reward him with a treat and his now familiar nickname of "hero".

Even though there were real heroes in this world, Aizawa was your hero. He was there for you any time you got injured, always there to press his head against your cheek after a rough day of work or a particularly sad movie. He was your constant and you had to admit, you really loved the little jerk.

At this point, you'd had Aizawa for about two months now, and life was going well. You figured you should pay a visit to the pet store to see Inko soon. You talked a lot over the phone, but you wanted to thank her in person. You had come to the decision that you would make her some cookies and stop by, wanting to repay her for the wonderful tea she provided you on that special day and her friendship. You especially wanted to thank her for giving you Aizawa. After all, you couldn't picture your life without the black furball now.

You were in the process of making said cookies when you heard a knock at the door, which was strange considering you didn't get many visitors. You hurriedly = placed the tray in the oven before giving Aizawa a curious look and starting towards the door.

"Hello, what can I do fo- Oh. It's you Taro."

This time you let your displeasure at his presence show. Ever since he took you home that day, he had been just short of outright hostile to you at work, sending glares your way and spreading nasty rumors. Apparently that nice gesture he made was an attempt to get you to like him. A ploy to get you to see him as your knight in shining armor and accept his advances. Now that you could see him for what he was, you were kicking yourself for being so stupid as to accept his help in the first place. Now he stood on your porch, wearing a smug grin and looking too confident for your pleasure.

"I just came to apologize for the other day. I guess I came on a bit too strong there."

"Look, I really don't want to talk to you. You didn't listen to me then, and I don't trust you to listen now. Good day."

You tried to close the door on him, wanting to just get back to my normal life without him ruining such a good day, but you weren't able to close the door. Looking down, you realized with dismay that he had wedged his foot in the door, preventing you from closing it.

"Taro stop, leave me alone! I am not interested, just go!"

You desperately tried to push his foot out of the door with but were unsuccessful. Now he had a grip on the edge of the door, holding it with no intention of letting it close. Vaguely in your panic, you heard a strange pop sound in the apartment, but that was hardly your main concern as you tried to come up with a plan on how to get rid of Taro.

"Oh come on cutie, just give me a chance. Why are you being such a *****?"

You were about about to respond before you felt a weight settle against your waist, it felt like an arm.. and something warm and heavy found its place on your shoulder. Frozen stiff, you vaguely noted that the weight on your shoulder belonged to a black haired figure, his stubble lightly tickling against your cheek as he leaned over to look at the confused man behind the door. When the figure spoke his tone was somehow icy in its calm anger.

"She told you she's not interested. So I suggest you get lost before I lose my patience."

You shuddered, the deep voice of the man rumbling against your shoulder.

Taro looked absolutely furious, but took one last look at the man behind you and stomped back to his car, whatever he had seen on the mystery man's face was obviously not something he wanted to mess with.

While you were relieved that he had left, you had a new and very scary concern to face. You closed the door and turned around before looking at the ceiling with a squeak, almost giving yourself whiplash with the speed at which your gaze shifted. The mystery man who had saved you, was in fact very much naked.

"Who the hell are you? How did you get in here? WHY ARE YOU NAKED?!"

His response was a deep chuckle, which should not have been as attractive as it was, given the circumstances.

"Really kitten? You can't recognize your hero in this form?"

You looked down, careful to keep your eyes high on his person as he smirked at you , arms crossed across his chest. He had long black messy hair, and kind of an unkempt look to him. His torso was littered with scars that had faded with time, he was lithe and muscular, making you think of a panther in his quiet power. While he was very handsome, like, unfairly so, he also looked permanently exhausted. He was very nice to look at, but what caught your eye the most was the scar under his right eye. Exactly like your cat, Aizawa.

"That... That's not possible. Are you seriously trying to tell me that you're my cat?!" You burst out, ignoring the urge to let your gaze wander further. You quickly looked back at the the ceiling. "Also, put some clothes on! I can't talk to you like this!"

He sighed in annoyance and grabbed a blanket off the couch, wrapping it around himself.

"Better?"

Now that You could actually look at him without distraction, you began to see a startling similarity with the cat who was somehow nowhere to be seen even though he would never have let a stranger be alone in the room with you.

"If you're my cat, then prove it. What is something only my Aizawa would know?"

He thought for a moment before an amused smile crossed his face.

"You sing in the shower. Yesterday morning you were belting this song about electric love or something. One of your bottles fell and scared you and I'm assuming you slipped because there was a loud thud sound and then you started laughing. Which was kind of creepy by the way."

Throughout his explanation, your eyes got progressively bigger. No freaking way. Just, How?

"Holy ****. You're Aizawa. You really are my cat. But how? And how are you human?"

The man, Aizawa, gave a tired groan and sat on the couch before reaching out and tugging you down onto the couch next to him

"The name is Shouta Aizawa. Pro name, EraserHead. I've been a cat for a little over three months now due to a villain attack on a school trip from UA. One of the villains had a transformation quirk and managed to get the drop on us. He had some sort of quirk enhancer in his system."

I watched him speak, very much confused but also very intrigued to learn about this man. "I think I heard a bit about that... Some big outcry a few months back... But if you're a pro, how did you get caught?"

"Usually, my quirk allows me to cancel others' quirks when I look at them, but this one was difficult. He seemed to be struggling, as if whatever quirk enhancer he was on was painful. I almost had my capture weapon around him before everything was consumed in this strange smoke. It was suffocating and I couldn't fight it off. Everything started to spin and I passed out."

He frowned as he continued, hand finding yours and holding it carefully in his own as he spoke, gently running his thumb over your knuckles.

"When I came to, I was in that pet store. Apparently the principal had sent out a search mission and found us. He likely guessed what happened and relocated us to a place that was less conspicuous for the time being. The owner of the store is the mother of one of my students who was caught in the blast. She's been guarding over us. But apparently, she saw something special in you. Enough to trust you to take one of us home with you."

His tired eyes focused on yours and you couldn't help but be taken aback with the intensity in them.

"Why me? I'm nothing special."

His gaze softened fondly and he reached forward, pushing the hair out of your face and letting his fingers trail over the side of your face affectionately.

"Oh, I disagree. You are absolutely special, kitten. More than you will ever know."

Your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation and you reached up, holding his hand against your face and leaning into the touch. The touch was unfamiliar but you felt like it just fit, his warm hand cradling your face gently.

"I'm going to miss having a cat, but I think I'm going to love getting to know the human Aizawa."

He chuckled and pulled you against his chest, the intensity back in his eyes.

"And I am going to love being able to do this."

He readjusted his touch, gripping your chin instead, tilting it gently before placing his lips over yours in a kiss. Your ands went around his neck as you carefully kissed back, melting against him before pulling away for a breath, resting your forehead against his so you could stare into those gorgeous dark eyes of his, memorizing every feature of his newly human face.

"I love you, my Hero."

"I love you too, kitten."

#aizawa #aizawa shouta #my hero academia aizawa #bnha aizawa #eraserhead #aizawa x you #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n

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yeochikin · 5 years ago

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good morning. | c. san

a/n: don’t mind me, just having SO MUCH san feels lately jfsjf also idk what to put as the title so uhh,, excuse that fdbdj

main focus: san x fem. reader

word count: 1.4k

warning(s): none, really! but do tell me if there are any :)

your irises admired the way the leaves fell ever so elegantly to the ground from your seat on the couch of your quiet living room, situating yourself right next to the window as your favourite songs played softly through the speakers. despite the cold morning air, the knitted wool sweater, that somehow looked a tad bigger on you, was enough to keep you warm.

the tip of your index finger absentmindedly traced the lip of your favourite ceramic mug, filled with hot chocolate. the marshmallow you plopped into the hot drink was slowly melting away without your knowledge, much thanks to the constant staring out of the scenery that was held in front of you.

but how could you not do so with the way orange, and brown, and even a tinge of red decorated the windy streets just outside of your house?

how could you not admire the scenery outside with how time seemed to slow down, feeling as if the wind blowing the fallen leaves from the shedding trees moved ever so slowly as if they had their own little lazy dance?

bringing the mug up to your lips, they soon formed into a gentle smile as soon as the warm, sweet hot chocolate coated your tastebuds, loving how the hot drink managed to make you feel all warm on the inside. if you could describe it, it would have been you saying it felt as if someone was giving you a hug on the inside.

speaking of hugs, a pair of arms suddenly encircled themselves around your waist, causing you to tense up ever so slightly in surprise. but soon, your muscles relaxed as soon as the familiar cologne wafted into your nose, finding yourself leaning your back to rest itself against the person’s broad chest as you felt them nuzzling their nose against the crook of your neck.

“you weren’t in bed when i woke up.”

choi san, your lover, mumbled against your neck, lips brushing against the skin to which, caused a shiver to run down your spine. you merely let out a chuckle in response, tilting your head so your lips could press a fleeting kiss against the male’s temple.

“i’m sorry, love. but byeol wanted to go out earlier.” you giggled as san playfully nipped onto the exposed skin of your shoulder.

you felt his fingers playing with the hem of the sweater, pulling his face away from your neck with a quirk of his brow.

“this is mine, no?” he asked, you tutting him in response.

“i am merely borrowing this from you.” you laughed at the way your lover deadpanned down at you, knowing that it would always end up being yours either way.

but of course, san never complained about it as it gave him some sort of pride growing in his chest whenever you wear his clothing.

the both of you lifted your heads up as a soft ‘meow’ along with scratching noises against your front door made itself present. quickly placing your mug on top of the coffee table next to the couch, not after giving your lover an apologetic kiss on the lips to leave his arms momentarily, you then rushed to open the door.

you watched as your boyfriend’s cat made herself at home as soon as you opened the door, grinning to yourself at how adorable the little furball looked as she stretched her little paws out before lightly pawing against your leg, standing on her hind legs.

“my little byeol, where did you go, hm?” you heard san say, not even realising how he had already made his way to stand next to you, him now leaning down to give a few strokes on said cat’s head.

a quiet meow was heard from byeol as if understanding what san had asked her, moving from your leg to rub her body against san’s side, standing on her hind legs once again to give the tip of san’s nose a little nip. a habit of hers that you had found out after spending more time with her, along with san’s explanation of how it was her own little way of ‘kissing’ you.

or rather, a way of telling either of you that she wants something. be it wanting food or wanting to go out.

but in this current situation before you, with the way how loud her purrs were, and how she kept butting her head against san’s lips as he playfully puckered them out, you knew that she wanted to bid the both of you a good morning in her own little cat body language.

the raven haired male couldn’t help but to emit a low coo at his feline friend’s actions, now gathering her in his strong arms before standing back up, laughing at the way byeol’s tail twitched when your lover playfully bounced her in his arms, his dimples making their appearance from the reaction along with how his eyes crinkled with happiness.

the two of you stood near the doorway to play with byeol for a little more before you suggested san to freshen up as you made prepared breakfast. with a little salute then a kiss on your cheek, san let byeol hop out of his arms before making his way to the bathroom, singing a familiar tune underneath his breath as you watched his retreating figure.

once he was no longer in your line of sight, you made your way to the small kitchen, hands busying themselves to roll the sleeves of your, or rather, san’s, sweater up to your elbows so it’ll not be a disturbance while you cook.

throughout the little moment, you hummed to whatever song that played through the speakers until a favourite song of yours came on, causing you to subconsciously smile in response as your hips swayed from side to side to the beat of the song, yet also making sure you were careful near the stove as to not burn yourself.

as you waited for the stew to cook itself for a little while, you spent the spare time to sing your heart out as the jovial tunes, the large spoon in your hand acted out as a makeshift microphone. you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out the giggle that bubbled out of your lips, dancing in a silly manner around the kitchen as the song played its second chorus.

it was only when you turned around to twirl that you froze in place, hands up in the air, while your eyes were wide opened in surprise at the figure standing against the doorframe.

there, choi san was leaning against the doorframe with his arm crossed in front of his chest. an amused smirk was clearly etched on his features, as if containing the laughter that threatened to leave his lips upon witnessing the sight before him.

thinking that he would make fun of you, your arms slowly dropped to your sides as you quickly turned back around to face the stove, cheeks burning from the embarrassing moment until you heard an airy chortle leave your lover’s lips.

to your surprise, san placed his hands on your shoulders so that you could face him once more. with his hands now taking yours in his, you mentally admiring at how perfectly they fit together like two puzzle pieces, san surprised you once more by shaking his shoulders to the beat of the song. you watched at how his eyebrows wiggled at you, promptly twirling you around, causing you to grin brightly. it was no doubt by now the kitchen was filled with the sounds of san’s and your laughter mixed in with the both of you singing along to the song.

it truly felt as if time had slowed down in this very moment, you giggling at the way san belted out the lyrics in such an.. ‘extra’ manner, san laughing his high pitched laugh from the way you almost stumbled down on your own feet from the numerous twirling around, and just the two of you enjoying each other’s presence once the song neared its end.

his arms were wrapped around your waist to keep you as close to him as possible while you stared up at him with fondness evident in your eyes, leaning against san’s touch as he lifted a hand up to caress your cheek affectionately.

“god, i’m so in love with you.” he whispered, turning his hand slightly so his knuckles brushed against your cheekbone.

without waiting for a response from you, his lips were already on yours, your arms reaching up to wrap them around his neck to give you a little more leverage to return the kiss, both smiling lazily against each other’s lips.

there was no need for a response. the both of you knew, just how in love you are with each other.

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littleabriel-blog · 4 years ago

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My Problem with Loki

Loki is a character beloved by many people. He has been for a decade now, although some people who read comics before the Marvel Cinematic Universe was a thing were fans of him long before the first Thor came out. Over the years since his appearance in that movie the character has gone through a lot of changes, evolving from a villain to an anti-hero both in the MCU and in the comics, the latter even killing off his original incarnation to reincarnate him in a younger body resembling Tom Hiddleston in the hopes that the comics could capitalize on his popularity in order to sell more books. That move, unfortunately, did not bear fruit, with Loki’s solo series being canceled after only five issues. However, Loki remained popular in the movies, so much so that when he was killed off in Infinity War, people were pissed.

As a result of his enduring popularity, Kevin Feige and company decided to give Loki his own solo series on Disney+ when the decision was made to create a string of MCU tie-in shows to supplement the movies, and boost subscription numbers to Disney’s new streaming service. Fans of the character rejoiced. Finally, our favorite character was going to be in the spotlight, and not be merely a supporting character for Thor and hopefully not a butt monkey for the Avengers like he was in the third act of the movie of the same name. WandaVision and The Falcon and The Winter Soldier had previously had well-received and successful debuts on that same platform, and it was hoped that Loki would do the same. Loki turned out to be the most successful of the Disney+ MCU shows that have come out so far, scoring highest in the ratings. As of this writing, it holds a 93% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes and an 8.5 on IMDb.

Those numbers, however, don’t reflect the entire audience and there were a lot of people who were not altogether happy with the product we received. Many people who had been hardcore fans of Loki since Tom Hiddleston first put on the horned helmet were not pleased, myself included.

The show wasn’t all bad. It did set up the multiverse, introduced Kang, introduced Mobius. The special effects were outstanding, a lot of the gags were hilarious, and we did get some character development from Loki before the spotlight fell away from him and he became all about panting after the real main character...more on that in a few.

So many things, however, were wrong.

If you liked the show, thought it was perfect, and were a fan of the romance, that’s perfectly fine. There is no such thing as a wrong opinion on a work of fiction. Everyone has their interpretations, everyone has their likes and dislikes, and there is nothing wrong with liking the show. There is also nothing wrong with not liking the show. This is a concept that people on both sides of the debate fail to understand, and I have witnessed flame wars, harassment from individuals on both sides, harassment of creators on social media from both sides, and various bits of biphobia, homophobia, transphobia, and other assorted types of phobias on display. I have seen people accuse people who have different opinions on the show than them of “not being a true Loki fan” and stating that people who have certain interpretations of the character don’t “truly know Loki”.

I’m not here to do that, and I assure you, if you liked the show, that’s fine. You’re allowed to. I’m allowed to not like it, and I’m allowed to explained why I didn’t like it just as you’re allowed to explain why you did. As long as both of us are being respectful, expressing an opinion is good. There is expressing an opinion and offering constructive criticism, however, and then there is namecalling, trolling, and having a tantrum and accusing someone of being “aggressive” when they don’t share the same opinion you do.

There is a huge difference between saying “I find the character of Sylvie to be problematic, and here is why” and “I think fans of Sylvie are sick and need therapy”, and people need to learn the difference between the two. Unfortunately, you have people who have become very protective of their favorite characters and tend to take any criticism leveled at said characters personally. It’s basically “You don’t like them? Well then you don’t like me, and since you don’t like me, I don’t like you.” Which is, frankly, a dangerous mentality to have. We are talking about fictional characters, not real people, and there is no need to jump to the defense of someone who does not exist. It is those people who tend to demonstrate that they have unstable personalities and immaturity, and they are the ones I have started blocking on Twitter because, being an adult woman, I don’t have the patience to deal with immature nonsense like that.

So, if you read this and then decide you want to hunt me down to give me a piece of your mind, tell me that I’m not a “true” fan of Loki, and accuse me of whatever, don’t bother. This piece isn’t here for that. It’s here because I wanted to compile my thoughts and feelings in a way that would better for me to articulate. It’s more or less a venting mechanism, purely for my benefit. If someone else gets something out of it, fine. If the creators of the show happen to see it, which is very unlikely because A) I’m not exactly going to push it onto them on their social media to get them to read it and B) they already get bombarded with tons of opinions on the show on a daily basis and aren’t going to care about one more voice added to the mix, even one who has basically compiled a novel, then alright.

And it is a novel, because I have a lot to say about Loki. I have been a huge fan of the character since long before Tom Hiddleston began playing him. My first encounter with Marvel’s Loki came in the form of the X-Men comics, specifically The Asgardian Wars run. It’s available in trade, and you should check it out. I read that run when I was around 10 years old, and I enjoyed Loki as the bad guy in the two stories that make up the collection. The first has him creating a special wish fountain that has a monkey’s paw effect in that it imbues mortals with special gifts and powers, and has the potential to make Earth a better place, but at the cost of killing every magical person and being on Earth. The X-Men and Alpha Flight find out about this after a plane piloted by the wife of one of the X-Men happens to crash in the general location the fountain is located. The two teams go to investigate, Shaman and Snowbird who are both magical beings begin dying, it’s discovered Loki created the fountain in order to score brownie points with The Ones Who Sit Above In Shadow (a pantheon of deities who are basically the Gods to the Asgardians), and after a lengthy battle Loki is defeated, he shuts down the fountain under pressure from The Ones, and slinks back to Asgard with tail between his legs.

In the second story, set after the heroes of Earth had helped Asgard defeat Surtur, Loki’s attention is caught by Storm, who at the time was depowered. He kidnaps her and brings her to Asgard intending to use her to replace Thor as the Goddess of the Storm, and use her as a pawn to, what else, conquer Asgard and seize the throne.

I really enjoyed Loki then, and felt sorry that he never appeared in any other X-Men story, not even in an issue of the New Mutants, and that team boasted an actual Valkyrie (Danielle Moonstar) as one of its members. I was a kid at the time and read pretty much exclusively X-Men since those were the books my father purchased for me. I never felt right about asking him for other books since we were a family with money struggles and I didn’t want to be more of a burden by requesting Thor or Avengers comics--that, and I just didn’t find Thor or the Avengers all that interesting at the time, a sentiment shared by a lot of people until the first Iron Man made us actually care about Tony Stark. I wouldn’t have an opportunity to start reading more comics featuring Loki until I was an adult and able to visit comic book stores on my own. I read several runs that featured him as a character, including Ragnarok, the Broxton, OK run where Loki first appeared as a woman, Dark Reign, and finally Siege. I also went back and read Walt Simonson’s legendary run on The Mighty Thor, which I highly recommend.

Suffice it to say, I’ve been a fan of the character for a long time, and in fact when Tom Hiddleston was cast in the role for Thor, I remember thinking that he was too young. But then I figured it was Hollywood, of course they’re going to deage Loki so that he appears closer in age to his adopted brother in contrast to the comics pre-Siege where Loki was often drawn to look like he was as old as Odin and therefore could be Thor’s uncle or even father as opposed to brother.

Over the years I grew to enjoy the MCU’s version of the character, enjoy Tom Hiddleston in the role, and like most other people was greatly saddened by his death in Infinity War. Like other fans, I looked forward to his solo series and had high hopes for it. Hopes that were, unfortunately, dashed.

It Was Rushed

In the MCU, it took Loki years to go from troubled young god, to villain, to ambivalent ally, to anti-hero, to hero. Literally, years. Months had passed between the end of Thor and the beginning of Avengers during which Loki endured who-knows-what at the hands of Thanos. We don’t know exactly what still. The Loki series didn’t answer that, I guess because they didn’t want to devote precious screentime to an interesting backstory for what was supposed to be the main character when they could focus on something else instead. That something else will be elaborated on.

In Episode 1, Loki is still the villain from Avengers, something he would have remained as into The Dark World. It would take him being in Asgard’s prisons for a year and then him accidentally getting his adopted mother Frigga killed in order for him to begin to do a heel-face turn. From this, we can clearly see that a transition from ax-crazy bad guy to anti-hero is not going to happen overnight. For this person I shall call Ragnarok Loki, it was a process that took time. He suffered a complete mental breakdown while in Asgard’s prison, a fragile emotional state that was compounded by the anger and massive guilt he felt at Frigga’s death.

Even after that, he still hadn’t completely abandoned his villainous ways. At the end of The Dark World we find out that after faking his supposed death earlier in the movie, Loki has assumed Odin’s form and taken his place on Asgard’s throne. In Ragnarok, Loki is still sitting on the throne in Odin’s form, and shows no indication at all that he feels any remorse for giving his adopted father amnesia, stripping away his magic, and abandoning him on Earth to whatever fate he might meet. Loki remains a selfish bastard throughout Ragnarok until the third act, after Thor had treated him to a taste of his own medicine by sticking a taser on him and then giving him a speech about becoming predictable and complacent.

Loki’s arc was one that spanned four movies and six years, since in-universe there were a couple of years between The Dark World and Ragnarok. That meant that his character development took actual time and was realistic. It was one of the things that drew people to the character, the fact that he had a very relatable and believable redemption arc.

Compare that to Episode 1. In less than a day he goes from being the Loki that we saw in Avengers, batshit crazy, selfish, callous, and untrusting, to making personal confessions to a man he had just met only a couple hours previously and agreeing to help the organization that had arrested, stripped, imprisoned, tried, and almost executed him.

What?

I will give the show this: In Episode 2, he shows that he’s still up to his old tricks when he feeds Mobius and the agents all that horsecrap about how a Loki works in the Ren Faire tent, and then revealing that he plans to take over the TVA when he confronts his variant in the futuristic Wal-Mart. The weeping confession to Mobius, that I can’t really get over. How do you go from haughty, arrogant, and “trust is for children and dogs”, to “I don’t enjoy hurting people” in just a couple of hours? The show never indicated that it was a manipulation tactic on Loki’s part. Instead, we were basically told to believe that they became friends just that fast. That emotionally stunted and closed-off Loki made a connection with another person in a matter of hours. Makes sense. Don’t get me wrong, I like Mobius and feel he makes a good foil for Loki. I hope to see more of him in the future. I just have a tough time finding their friendship all that believable.

This would not be the only relationship in the show that happened too fast that we were forced to just buy, which leads me to Sylvie.

She’s the variant that the TVA had been hunting, that Mobius recruited Loki to help capture. And while I normally hate it when people ascribe a certain label onto a new female character because reasons (ones that are usually misogynistic), I think it fits rather well in Sylvie’s case.

Enter The Mary Sue

Mary Sue is a term that gets thrown around a lot. To sum up the meaning in very simple terms, it refers to a character who is too perfect to be believable. Mary Sues are often author-self inserts in fiction, they’re usually the love interest for at least one male hero and it’s usually the male hero the author will admit to having a crush on, their scenes usually are presented much more descriptively than those of the other characters, the story will revolve around them often at the expense of the development and plots for the other characters of the story, and they’re presented as beautiful, powerful, intelligent, beautiful, special, strong, beautiful, and desirable. Yes, beautiful is on the list more than once, and it’s deliberate.

The term comes from an old Star Trek parody fanfic, and while it is usually applied to original characters in fan fiction, the term has been used to describe characters in canon media as well. Some examples of characters who have been described as Mary Sues would include Bella from the Twilight books, Felicity from the show Arrow, Jaenelle Angelline from Anne Bishop’s The Black Jewel novels, Sookie Stackhouse from True Blood, Rey from the last Star Wars trilogy, and Jean Grey from the X-Men comics. Note I do not necessarily agree that those characters are Mary Sues, I have merely heard these characters referred to as Mary Sues, and when I look at them objectively I can kind of see where the accusations come from. Some other terms that can apply are Creator’s Pet and of course Author Self-Insert. Not all Mary Sues are Author Self-Inserts, but a lot of them are. Also, not all characters who can be labeled Mary Sues are female, though they often are. The male version of a Mary Sue is called a Marty Stu, and a couple of characters I’ve seen get ascribed that label include Harry Potter, Daemon Sadi from Anne Bishop’s The Black Jewel novels, Edward from Twilight, and Red Hulk from Marvel Comics. Even Batman and Wolverine haven’t been immune from the Marty Stu stamp, although you can argue that it does apply in their cases especially depending on who’s writing them. Sometimes it is painfully obvious they are author self-inserts...the aforementioned Bella is a good example. Others, you can only speculate on. And while there are theories going around that Sylvie is someone’s self-insert, we don’t have definitive proof of that.

There are good arguments, however, for her being labeled a Mary Sue and Creator’s Pet.

First are her powers. In the show we are told that Sylvie taught herself magic, especially her ability to “enchant”, the power to get into the minds of others and manipulate them. The fact that she taught herself would indicate that her education and skill in using magic should be lacking, right? She should not be as good as, say, someone who learned magic from his foster mother who herself was taught by Asgardian witches?

Yet in the show, Sylvie not only runs circles around Loki magically wise, she even teaches him a few tricks. This is startlingly in contrast to the comics. Loki’s Sylvie is partially based on the character Sylvie Lushton from the Young Avengers, a bad guy who was once a normal girl whom Loki imbued with powers before his death at the hands of the Sentry during the events of 2010’s Siege storyline. In the comics, Loki not only gave Sylvie her powers, but he was the one who taught her how to use them. Now, of course things in the MCU are not going to follow the way things are in the comics. MCU Loki is nowhere near as old as comics Loki and has so far not demonstrated the ability to give other beings powers. And MCU Sylvie is a composite of Sylvie Lushton and Lady Loki, which is also problematic, but we’ll get to that.

But the point is that Sylvie had no training. Her magic is some improvised slapped-together stuff that at best she picked up here and there and at worst she just pulled out of her ass. Now, knowing that, we’re supposed to buy that she can mop the floor magically wise with someone who was formally trained by a sorceress? And that furthermore, she can school him as well?

To make up for her lack of experience and knowledge, Loki is nerfed. Power wise and intellectually wise, he is nerfed. In Thor and Avengers Loki is smart, well-spoken, and a master manipulator. At one point he is able to turn all of the Avengers against one another, and while his magic has never been anywhere near the level it was at in the comics pre-Siege (after his resurrection, he was powered down and is currently nowhere near the powerhouse he had been prior to 2011) he was able to pull off some impressive displays of skill nonetheless. Shape shifting, illusion casting, it was a good repertoire.

In Episode 3, however...well, he does use teleportation to some impressive affect during his fight with Sylvie, but he still doesn’t get the upperhand. And he should. Loki is a better trained fighter, better trained in sorcery, and realistically should have at the least managed to incapacitate his variant. He doesn’t however, because the moment he meets Sylvie his IQ drops about 20 points. He falls easily for her tricks, makes laughable plans, gets drunk and draws too much attention when he knows that is a bad idea, and manages to get them both stuck on a moon that will soon be dust courtesy of the rogue planet about to crash into it. Loki has made some blunders in the various MCU movies he’s been in, mostly due to his own arrogance and tendency to underestimate his foes, but he’s not that stupid. In fact, in The Dark World he screams at Thor and calls him an idiot for drawing attention to themselves by hijacking an elven ship and crashing into every column and statue within a fifty-foot radius.

Where exactly is that smart, calculating, more careful Loki we know from the films? He’s been transformed and dumbed down, in an attempt to prop Sylvie up. It’s a tired trope, making the male character a dumbass in order to make the female character look good. Well, I should say male-presenting and female-presenting characters in this case, but their supposed gender fluidity really is not represented well and it’s completely contradicted later on, but we’ll get to that.

Anyway, making the male character stupid in order to make the female character look better by comparison is not empowering. It’s insulting. It implies that women are not smart or capable enough to meet men on equal footing, that the only way we can shine is not by virtue of our own strengths, but merely by making us look better than the men.

She doesn’t just outshine Loki intellectually and power wise, she outshines him period. The show from Episode 3 on becomes about Sylvie. She is the show’s main focus, and Loki? He’s relegated to the role of supporting character in the series that’s named after him. Supporting character, and love interest. From Episode 3 on, the show might as well be called Sylvie.

Now, some people will say that since Sylvie is a Loki, the show was indeed focusing on Loki. The problem is, the show is very inconsistent as to whether or not Sylvie really is a Loki or a different person entirely. I will explain more later, but the writers seem to change Sylvie’s identity to suit whatever narrative they want to present to the audience, including the pre-Pixar Disney romance they foist upon us.

The Romance, and why some find it gross

One major characteristic of the Mary Sue is that she always draws the romantic and sexual interest of the main male character, who may or may not be a Marty Stu himself. Oftentimes he’s not, and Loki does not fit the criteria of a Marty Stu by any stretch of the imagination. These romances always happen fast with little to no buildup. There is no what writers of romance call “slow burn”, it’s just throw Mary at the male character, hook them up, and get the audience to buy it. Basically, it’s reminiscent of the romance stories in the Classical Era Disney animated films. Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Cinderella all fall madly in love with their princes within minutes of meeting them. There’s no getting to know each other, there is no preamble, there is no slow courtship, no real drama to speak of. It’s basically Love At First Sight or True Love. This trend continues even into the Disney Renaissance. In The Little Mermaid, Ariel is willing to make a deal with a witch to give up her fins for a prince she hasn’t even spoken to yet. He doesn’t even know she exists, and she leaves her home and family behind, gives up her voice, all for a mere shot at hooking up with him.

That’s not love, that’s lust. That’s hormones overruling your brain, and it’s an insulting trope, one that feminists have railed against for years. Disney has made a little progress. The movie Frozen took the mickey out of the Love At First Sight/True Love trope with the song “Love Is An Open Door” and the prince Anna wanting to marry turning out to be a major sleazebag who just wants to use her, but we still only have three Disney princesses (Elsa, Moana, and Merida) who have never had love interests and two (Anna and Rapunzel) whose love stories come close to being slow burns, out of 12 official Princesses. There’s still a long way to go, and boy is there a major step backwards in Loki.

In Episode 3, Loki fights Sylvie and they end up on Lamentis 1. Sylvie spends a good portion of the time insulting and trying to kill Loki, and Loki finds himself having to defend himself from her. That changes once they get on the train going to the Arc. After sneaking aboard the train using a disguise and a flimsy story, the two Lokis sit in a booth, where Loki proceeds to drink champagne. It is then that, out of nowhere, the conversation shifts from how Sylvie learned her powers to the topic of love.

Why? Why would you bring that up in conversation with someone who was doing her best to kill you a couple hours prior?

Then Loki makes things worse by asking Sylvie if she has a beau waiting for her. Why? It doesn’t make sense. The two of you are at each other’s throats, she’s done her best to kill you, neither of you trusts the other, and, completely out of left field, you decide to basically ask “So...are you single?”

Now, enemies to lovers is a trope that can work when done right. Typically, it’s a very subtle, slow progression that the audience witnesses over time in a novel, movie or television series. Weeks and even months will go by in the narrative during which the two people go from wanting each other dead to developing feelings for one another. There’s usually a “will they, won’t they period” that lasts for some time that’s full of teases and flirting before the couple does hook up and gives the audience the resolution. Done in this way, enemies to lovers can work.

This...this is not the right way to do enemies to lovers. Within a couple of hours Loki and Sylvie go from hatred and doing their damnedest to stabbing one another in the backs, to having a connection that causes a nexus event?

By the way, that nexus event makes no sense. In Episode 2, it is established that it is impossible to create a nexus event in an apocalypse. It is why Sylvie was able to avoid capture by the TVA for so long. In fact, just minutes prior to the two of them almost dying in Episode 4, Sylvie flat-out says that she figured out that she needed to hide in apocalypses because she discovered she didn’t create a nexus event when she hid in them.

Now the two of them are able to create a nexus event in the midst of an apocalypse? Why? Their “connection” isn’t going to lead to any consequences...they were about to die. No one else need never have known about the “moment” the two of them shared. It’s very confusing and the only purpose it really serves is to paint Loki and Sylvie as soulmates, which doesn’t make sense in the context of the show. The concept of soulmates is that for every person, there is someone out there they are predestined to be with. Loki is a show that, at the core of it, is about rejecting predestination and embracing free will. In that context, the idea of soulmates is ludicrous and contradictory to the message that we make our own destiny. This is why True Love is unrealistic, and I hate to break it to you romantics out there, but Love At First sight does not exist.

Infatuation At First Sight exists, but that is not Love, no matter what your hormones are telling you. Love takes time to evolve, and it takes work to maintain. It sure as hell doesn’t happen after less than 12 hours of knowing each other, during which a huge chunk of time was devoted to trying to manipulate, outsmart, and murder the person you’re supposedly in love with. No one falls in love in less than 12 hours, period, unless it’s a Classical Era Disney animated movie. They basically turned Loki into a big Disney Romance trope. I have a very hard time buying that Loki, who we have established is emotionally stunted and closed off, would form a love connection in just a few hours, especially with someone who was doing her best to murder him in that timespan.

That is not the only reason this relationship is problematic. The term “Selfcest” has been thrown around, and a lot of defenders of this particular ship claim that the term was very recently made up in social media for the sole purpose of badmouthing this particular romance. That is not the case. Selfcest is a term that has existed among fiction writers for years, it’s just that more people have recently become aware of it thanks to this show. The trope has been used and referred to in various works of fiction, especially in fantasy and science fiction where cloning, alternative universes, and magic occur. A lot of the insults I get from people who can’t stand that I don’t like the romance basically go along the lines of saying selfcest doesn’t exist. No, it doesn’t...in reality. But this isn’t reality, is it? It’s fiction. It’s a fictional world where such a thing could be possible, and even in works where it’s not possible it’s often alluded to.

In A Song Of Ice And Fire, we have the infamous twincest relationship going on between Cersei and Jamie Lannister, and it is heavily implied that sleeping with her brother is the closest that Cersei can get to banging herself and that is why she does it. Jamie is basically everything she feels she should have been and was denied due to being born a woman. In fact, in later books when he reunites with her after having been away from King’s Landing for over a year, during which time he’s grown a beard and shaved his head, Cersei no longer finds him as attractive since they no longer look as much alike.

And with advances in cloning, selfcest might be possible in the future. We already have sex robots, and people with money are capable of making those robots look like themselves. There is nothing stopping them from doing it.

Knowing all of this, the argument of “selfcest doesn’t exist!” falls flat. And it especially falls flat when you’re referring to a fictional universe where a large purple man once killed off half the population of said universe with a snap of his fingers, where scientists turn into giant green monsters, the Norse gods not only exist but regularly interact with people on Earth, and there’s such a thing as a Sorcerer Supreme.

As I have said, the show has been rather inconsistent in stating what exactly Sylvie’s identity is. One moment, we are told Sylvie is a Loki and that she and Loki are the same person. Mobius says it, Kang says it multiple times, Judge Renslayer says it, the director and the writers state it in interviews. But then in the next breath, they contradict it by saying that she’s not a Loki, she’s Sylvie and a different person.

You can’t have it both ways. Which is it? Either she’s a Loki, or she’s not. The narrative is very confusing and it changes depending on how they want us to see Sylvie, especially in relation to her romance with Loki. It’s so much easier to avoid the selfcest/incest accusations when you can say they are different people. But then they say they’re the same person. Make up your minds!

Since the show first established that Sylvie is a Loki, I’m going with that. Especially since we saw a bit of her backstory. She grew up in Asgard as a member of the royal family, which means she had Odin as a father, Frigga as mother, and Thor as brother. She may or may not have the same DNA as Loki. We never got confirmation either way, and there are people who argue that they don’t to which I have to ask: How do you know? The show never tells us! “Oh, well, there’s Alligator Loki, are you going to say he has the same DNA as well?” Well, we are never told how exactly Alligator Loki came to be. Is he actually an alligator, or is he Loki who somehow got permanently stuck when he shapeshifted? People tend to forget that he can do that. Ragnarok established that he can turn into a snake, and a deleted scene actually had the childhood story go that Loki turned into a rug to cover a hole in the ground and then dumped Thor into it. There is the scene where Doctor Strange drops Loki through a portal, and Thor is left poking at a business card, and it is clear that for a moment he thinks that Loki turned into that. We know Loki can shapeshift, so Alligator Loki can very well have the same DNA. We just don’t know, because the show never explains it for the same reason the show cut out the scenes with Throg fighting Loki...to devote more screentime to Sylki.

Even if they don’t have the same DNA, it’s still established that they are the same person, they have the same family, they’re both the God/dess of Mischief, and even Sylvie herself acknowledges that she is a Loki despite the fact that she changed her name. So selfcest very much applies here, and a good argument can be made that selfcest is the ultimate in incest...after all, there isn’t anyone else you’re more related to than yourself. It is very understandable, therefore, that a lot of people would be very, very uncomfortable with such a relationship. Having the same DNA would merely be the icing on the very gross cake.

Furthermore, just because selfcest does not exist in reality does not mean someone can’t find the concept distasteful. “It’s not real!” “It’s just fiction!” Yes, and people are allowed to have their own feelings and opinions on fiction. If they find the idea of selfcest hard to stomach, that’s their prerogative and you really have no right to tell them they are wrong for feeling that way. They should not have to justify to anyone why they feel that way either. No one owes you an explanation for why they find real world incest or cannibalism distasteful, so they don’t owe you an explanation for this.

“Well, of course Loki would fall for himself...he’s a narcissist!” Is he though? Is he really? Having dealt with my fair share of narcissists in my life, I have to wonder if the fans who say that, along with the writers, know what a narcissist really is.

Is Loki a narcissist?

Bringing up Cersei Lannister again, the novels she appears in establishes that she is an extreme narcissist. She sleeps with her twin brother because it’s the closest she can come to sleeping with herself, and she desires to do that because she is a narcissist. A narcissist is someone whose personality is defined by an inflated sense of self-importance, troubled relationships, lack of empathy for others, and an excessive deep-seated need for attention and admiration. It’s a very simplistic definition, and there are plenty of YouTube videos devoted to delving into narcissists into more depth, as well as videos on how to cope with the aftermath of abuse at the hands of narcissists. Narcissists are so devoted to themselves that they ignore the needs and the feelings of those in their lives, which often results in abusive behavior. There are entire support groups that exist for victims of narcissists.

At first glance, one can see why some might consider Loki a narcissist. He does engage in some pretty selfish behavior, he goes to great lengths to get attention, his relationships to his family are indeed fraught with drama, and he seems to have a pretty overinflated ego. He even goes so far as to write a play featuring himself as the central character, and build a giant golden statue of himself after taking over Asgard in the guise of Odin. But really, is his ego truly that big? Or he is overcompensating for his self-hatred and self-disgust?

Loki suffered quite the emotional blow when he found out his true heritage, a revelation that shook him to his very core. Of course, his relationship with his father suffered as a result...the man lied to him for his entire life. Their relationship really was not that great even before that since Odin found it easier to relate to Thor, who was more like him in personality, than to Loki, who was more cerebral and quieter. Loki’s relationship to Frigga fared much better. He’s quick to forgive her involvement in covering up the truth about his parentage, and it is obvious that they are close. Even his relationship with Thor prior to the events of the movie is not all that bad, the two brothers are affectionate and playful, and when Loki interrupts Thor’s coronation, it’s not just for the sake of creating trouble, but to postpone Thor taking the crown for another little while because he is not fit to rule. At the time Thor had yet to go through his character development arc on Earth and he was still an overly arrogant, bloodthirsty, elitist douchebag, so Loki really had a good point.

A true narcissist would have done what Loki did just for the sake of making life difficult for Thor. Also, he would have done it because he wanted the throne. Loki states repeatedly that he never wanted to rule. A true narcissist would have been all smiles about taking the throne instead of being reluctant about it as Loki was when Frigga handed him Gungnir.

Throughout the films, and in the first episode of the series, we see that Loki does indeed love his family and is capable of feeling guilt over the things that he does to them, intentionally or not. Narcissists typically don’t feel remorse. As far as they are concerned, they are perfect and can do no wrong, so they have nothing to feel bad about. If they hurt you, it’s because you deserved it. You shouldn’t have provoked their ire.

Loki feels bad for getting Frigga killed, and then later on Odin. Then he is in tears when Odin dies, and later at the mere thought of never seeing Thor again when the two brothers talk in an elevator on Sakaar. Those are not the actions of someone who is incapable of loving anyone but himself, as I’ve seen so many people claim about him. And the fact that he sacrificed himself to save his brother also kind of kills the whole “narcissist” narrative.

In Episode 1, Loki breaks down and confesses to Mobius that he doesn’t like hurting people. He does it because it’s part of the façade, and admits that he sees himself as weak. A few episodes later, he admits to a memory illusion Sif that he craves attention “because I’m a narcissist” and admits to being afraid of being alone. That is far more self-reflection than a typical narcissist is capable of in my experience. As I said, narcissists tend to think they are perfect. A true narcissist would never admit to having any flaws, and sure as hell would never admit that they are a narcissist. As far as the true narcissist is concerned, if you find them flawed in any way, that’s on you. The narcissist has no need for self-reflection because they honestly see nothing wrong with themselves, and believe that they don’t need to change...it’s everyone else who does.

A good real-life example from my past is a former friend I’ll call D. D was a self-proclaimed brat who was quite proud of the fact that she could be difficult to be in a relationship with and tended to go through men like tissue paper. She was demanding, self-centered, extremely jealous, manipulative, and prone to wild mood swings. She could and did go from zero to insane at the drop of a hat. In the time I knew her, she left a string of burnt guys behind, and according to her it was because they just weren’t man enough to handle her. She also left behind a string of broken former friends, to the point where there really needed to be a support group for former friends of D who suddenly had her turn them into Public Enemy Number 1 when they either started taking attention away from D, or...well, that was it really. As I said, she was a very jealous person and had a chronic need to be the center of attention, especially if there were men around. Anyway, instead of working on herself to become less self-involved, self-absorbed, and more empathetic, she double downed on her abrasiveness and constant need for attention until she finally wore the poor man down and he either ghosted her or outright dumped her. She never broke up with them, preferring to keep them around for as long as they were willing in order to toy with them as a cat does with a mouse. I tried to talk to her about her horrible behavior, but instead of taking my constructive criticism and maybe using it to make some needed changes, she completely turned on me and did her best to make my life hell until I finally cut her out of it. I learned two things: Narcissists don’t want help because they don’t feel they need it and they are never going to change as a result, and never, ever try to confront a narcissist. It’ll only end badly.

A more famous example? Former US President Donald Trump. I won’t get into that, because really all you need to do is perform a quick Google search to see what all he’s done and witness his narcissism on full display. But really, place him side by side with Loki. Do you see any similarities at all? Maybe on the surface, but when you go deeper...no. Loki is not a narcissist. He’s capable of deep self-reflection, owns his faults, is capable of loving others, and feels remorse. I would argue that anyone who says he is a narcissist, either does not know the character, or hasn’t ever actually dealt with a narcissist in real life, to which I can only say: Lucky you.

I honestly would argue that calling Loki a narcissist is actually doing a disservice to victims of abuse from actual narcissists.

What about Sylvie? Well, in contrast to Loki who does show remorse while Mobius is playing that “This Is Your Life” reel for him, Sylvie shows no remorse or regret. She knows that the TVA agents she kills are as much victims as she is. They are innocent variants who were kidnapped from Earth and forced to work for the TVA after having their memories wiped. She knows this, yet the first time we see her she burns a bunch of TVA agents alive, and she just stands there watching as they scream in agony. In the next episode she says right out that she’s “having some fun” while possessing the body of C-90 and murdering more agents. She is not at all sorry about doing what she did, and we’re supposed to be understanding since she was kidnapped as a child. Okay, but the entire TVA didn’t do that. The agents she kills didn’t personally kidnap her. The only one we see who was directly involved in that is Renslayer. Sylvie “did what she had to do”, fine. But she doesn’t feel bad about it, at all. The flashback to her as a child takes great pains to try to show us what a good person she is when she cries out “Help him!” as another prisoner is being beaten, but I guess she grew out of it.

We don’t know if Sylvie has any other narcissistic traits besides lack of remorse because, well, the show really doesn’t do much to show her personality. Other than killing people, trying to kill Loki, and then flirting with Loki, we just don’t really see much to her. It’s another trait of a Mary Sue. Mary Sues often have bland, one-dimensional personalities. After all, their only purpose is usually to serve as love interests for one or more male characters. Mary Sues break the “show, don’t tell” rule by having the other characters verbally inform us about their traits, usually while singing their praises, but we don’t actually see those traits in the Mary Sue herself.

Loki calls Sylvie “amazing”, but how amazing is she, really? She kills people she knows are victims, she endangers the timeline just to sneak into the TVA, and then she kills Kang despite knowing that there is a very good chance that doing so could unleash something far, far worse than him. Then again, it doesn’t have to make sense when you’re pushing an unwanted and unasked for romance on an audience who was expecting a scifi show, not a romance.

I have spoken in a few places about this. Romance is fine, but in a show that blatantly places itself in the scifi genre, it really should only be the background, not center stage. When I expressed this opinion, I got accused of being dismissive of an essential part of the human experience. Well, first of all, congratulations: You just invalidated the existence of people on the asexual and aromantic spectrums, not to mention people who are celibate by choice. Second, that is why we have the romance genre. To tell stories centered around romance. I like romance, I read romance novels, and I sometimes write romantic fiction. But there are some places where it just is not appropriate.

There are people who say that adding romance makes things more interesting. Nope, in those cases it’s just a smokescreen, something used to hide plot holes and distract us from just how empty the story really is. Writers like to say that if you need a romance to make things more interesting, then you really don’t have much of a story in the first place. And sadly, Loki does have some plot holes. The nexus event on Lamentis is a good example, and the romance is definitely used to distract us from that. People were so focused on “oh wow, they’re having a moment, they’re soulmates!” that they didn’t think “waitaminute...didn’t they say that nexus events can’t occur in apocalypses?”

We really did not need a romance in Loki. Period. It was unnecessary, it was distracting, a lot of people found it disturbing, and it actively hurt a marginalized group.

Loki Is A Queer Icon!...maybe

I am not going to say that the relationship between Loki and Sylvie is not a bisexual one. A bisexual relationship is a bisexual relationship regardless of whether or not the person the bisexual person is with is the opposite sex. Saying otherwise is biphobic. Biphobic people in both the straight and the queer communities have been excluding bisexual people who happen to be in opposite sex relationships for years because apparently one stops being bisexual once they get into a relationship with someone of the opposite sex. This is horseshit. I’ve been in relationships with CIS men, did I stop being attracted to other men, women, nonbinary, genderfluid, agender, and other genderqueer people? No. No, I didn’t, because while I was entangled, I was not dead. Heterosexual people don’t stop being attracted to other members of the opposite sex when they are in relationships, it’s no different with queer people.

So, stop saying that Loki and Sylvie are not a bisexual relationship. You’re not doing us any favors at all, and in fact you’re only helping the biphobes who want to kick us out of Pride and other queer spaces for daring to date members of the opposite sex.

I will address the “Bit of both” line however. In Episode 3, Loki has that response to Sylvie’s questioning about whether there had been any would-be princesses or princes in his life. Again, a conversation that comes out of nowhere. She stated outright that she didn’t trust him, clearly wanted him dead, and now she’s asking if he’s single. Whatever.

Anyway, people went nuts when Loki answered “A bit of both”. It was confirmation that Loki was bisexual, it was celebrated on social media...and it is really biphobic and Kate Herron, who is bisexual herself, really should have known better.

Biphobic people have long tried to sow division between the bi and trans communities (unsurprisingly, biphobia and transphobia tend to go hand-in-hand) by saying that the concept of being bisexual is transphobic. “Bi” means two, ergo bisexual people are only attracted to two genders, specifically CIS men and CIS women. It never occurs to anyone that the “two genders” a bisexual person could be attracted to could be, say, women (and yes, I include trans women in that, since they are in fact women, get over it) and non-binary people, or agender and gender-fluid people, it’s always CIS men and CIS women. This despite the fact that the definition of bisexual has been “attraction to more than one gender” since long before the Bisexual Manifesto was put out in 1990.

Some people have tried to remedy this by adopting the moniker of “pansexual” instead, which A) is basically reinforcing what biphobes are saying about bisexuals and creating even more division and B) doesn’t just mean “attraction to trans people as well, I’m not transphobic, I promise!” “Pansexual” is not interchangeable with “bisexual”. Pansexual is attraction to all genders. Bisexual means attraction to more than one gender, but not necessarily to all genders. You can have a bisexual person, for instance, who is attracted to all genders except for men. If you are attracted to more than one gender, but not to all genders, you are bisexual, and labeling yourself pansexual is lying and basically caving in to the biphobes.

I’m not trying to police what people call themselves...if you want to use the two terms interchangeably, if you want to call yourself bisexual, or pansexual, it’s fine. But just evaluate the reasons why. Are you calling yourself pansexual because you really think you can be, or are you just calling yourself that out of fear of being labeled transphobic? The latter, in my opinion, is not a really good reason, and it only helps deliver the biphobic message that bisexual people are transphobic.

So, by saying “a bit of both”, Loki is really helping to reinforce that biphobic assertion that bisexual people are attracted just to CIS men and CIS women. It’s disappointing, but it is Disney so I suppose that is the best we can expect for now. It just shows that Disney really has a long way to go.

What’s more problematic is the supposed genderfluid representation. Now, I am a CIS woman. As such, I feel unqualified to really say that the representation is shitty and fluidphobic. However, if I’m not qualified to say that it is, then Kate Herron and the writers are unqualified to say that it isn’t. Rule of thumb: If members of a marginalized group are telling you that you did a poor job of representing them and that you are being transphobic or fluidphobic, instead of ignoring and dismissing their concerns like a good portion of the population already does, it’s a really good idea to listen to what they are saying and learn how you can do better.

There have been some genderfluid and trans people who expressed that they liked the show, and good for them. But I have seen a lot of very valid criticisms and concerns from genderfluid and trans people about the representation on the show, and I think they really should be listened to. Kate, you and I are queer, but we are still CIS women. Ergo, we have no say in whether or not the way you attempted to present Loki’s gender fluidity is transphobic. If genderfluid people say it’s fluidphobic or trans people say it’s transphobic, then it is indeed fluidphobic/transphobic. To say otherwise is gaslighting a marginalized community who already faces gaslighting on a daily basis.

I will touch on a couple of things.

First, in Episode 5, Loki asks a bunch of his variants if they have ever encountered a female version of themselves, a question that is met with varying levels of incredulousness and even disgust. If Loki was truly genderfluid, this question wouldn’t have been asked. Genderfluid means the person shifts genders along the spectrum. Loki does this in the comics. Comicbook Loki switches between masculine and feminine presenting on the drop of a dime, especially in his current incarnation. Loki in the MCU we are told is also genderfluid, and should also be able to hop along the gender spectrum on a whim. There should not be a “female variant” therefore, since they are all the same gender. There could be a female presenting variant, but that is not the same thing. They would still be all genderfluid in that case. Also, Sylvie’s nexus event would not have been “being born the Goddess of Mischief”. Okay, the show never actually says that is the nexus event that led to her being arrested, but it heavily implies it. If Sylvie is a Loki, and as a Loki is genderfluid, her being the “Goddess” of Mischief should never have been an issue since they can change genders anyway.

Second, making Lady Loki a separate person is problematic. A lot of genderfluid people felt that this move invalidated their identity by basically showing that the same person cannot indeed be different genders along the spectrum. I don’t feel I’m totally qualified to really get into this. I will just say that if you’re going to write a genderfluid character, maybe at least get an actual genderfluid person to advise in the writing room.

Third, there is a transphobic movement called trans exclusionary radical feminism. You might have heard of it. Unfortunately, it is a very widespread movement that has done a lot of harm to the trans community, successfully blocking funding to organizations that help trans people, blocking laws that would benefit trans people, and the movement includes celebrities like Graham Linehan and JK Rowling.

One of the weapons they like to use against trans women is the concept of “autogynephilia”. It is basically the sexual fetish of becoming aroused from thinking of oneself as a woman. Many, many of these transphobic “feminists” love to say that trans women are merely men who have this particular sexual fetish.

It’s bullshit of course. Maybe there is a small segment of the male population that has that fetish, but trans women are not included in that. For trans women, things like dressing as women, changing their names, having state and federal issued IDs that say they are female, and being able to use the restrooms and change rooms that match the gender they actually are as opposed to the one they were assigned at birth is not a matter of sexual arousal. It’s a matter of making their external realities match their internal ones. It’s a matter of validation of their identities as women. Sexual gratification has nothing to do with it.

Now, Loki is not trans, but genderfluid people do tend to fall under the trans umbrella. We have Loki, a supposedly genderfluid individual and masculine presenting, falling head over heels in love with a feminine presenting version of himself. Maybe it’s just me, but it just seems like a form of autogynephilia to me.

Way to go, Kate...you just gave the TERFs more ammo.

One more note: At one point, Kate tweeted a list of the different Loki emojis, and “jokingly” included #FiretruckLoki with an emoji of a firetruck. Kate, you do realize that a “joke” transphobes love to harp on is that they can identify as an attack helicopter, right?

It’s his way of learning self-love!

That is not how you learn self-love.

First, the people who are making this argument often contradict themselves by then saying that Sylvie is a different person. Again, make up your minds. Either Sylvie is the same person as Loki, or she’s not. You can’t have it both ways, and you can’t continue to change the narrative to fit whatever it is you want to shove down the audience’s throats.

Second, romantic love and self-love are two different things entirely. Loki isn’t feeling self-love with Sylvie, he’s feeling romantic love. That’s not learning self-love. That's narcissism, and it’s character regression in his case. He’s supposed to be evolving past being a self-centered, egotistical shitweasel, and falling in love with a variant of himself makes him, as Mobius put it, “a seismic narcissist”. It’s not character development.

Third, this argument tends to come in the same breath as saying that Loki is a narcissist so of course he would fall for a variant of himself. If Loki is a narcissist though, why would he need to learn self-love? Narcissists already love themselves, that is the very definition of the word. If Loki needs to learn self-love, that would imply that he actually hates himself, which is the opposite of narcissism. Again, the writers and the fans who make these arguments when they feel the need to defend this relationship need to make up their minds. Either he’s a narcissist and therefore already loves himself too much, or he hates himself and needs to learn to love himself. It’s once again changing the narrative to fill a plothole.

Fourth, the whole learning self-love and trust narrative is completely thrown out the window in Episode 6 when Sylvie decides to toy with Loki’s emotions, using his feelings for her against him by kissing him as a distraction so she could grab Kang’s temp pad and toss Loki back to the TVA. To Sylvie, her revenge was more important than the bond she had with him. The move basically set Loki’s progress back several steps. What little progress he made anyway.

TL:DR, is there hope for Season 2?

Whew, this went on for a while, didn’t it? Told you I had a lot to say.

As I have said, if you liked the first season of Loki and think I am completely full of shit, that’s fine and it’s your prerogative. More power to you.

But, and this is a huge but, that does not give you the right to harass and bully people who did not like it.

I have witnessed horrible things from both sides of the now split Loki fandom on social media. Harassment and even death threats towards the creators. Telling people who don’t like the Loki and Sylvie relationship that they need to drink bleach. Homophobic attacks. Gatekeeping.

There’s constructive criticism and sharing your opinions, and then there is...this.

Both sides need to chill.

Anyway.

Even though Kate Herron has left the show, Michael Waldron is still the showrunner and as such I am not altogether optimistic for Season 2. I would like to see more emphasis on Loki himself for that season. Yes, it’s a novel thought, wanting a show that is called Loki to actually be about Loki, but here we are.

I would like to see actual character development in Loki rather than the old “true love transforms bad boy and conquers all” trope. There is a reason Disney has started to abandon that trope in their animated movies. They’ve been getting dragged about it for decades.

If Sylvie must return, there needs to be some actual consistency surrounding her character. The show needs to decide if she is a Loki or not and stick with whichever one they decide. And seriously, no more romance. Frankly, after what she pulled in Episode 6, I will be severely disappointed if the writers have Loki crawling back to her. That would make him pathetic, and Loki deserves better.

Really, Loki does not need a romance, period. He’s too emotionally immature, he has a lot of character growth to go through, and a romance would do nothing but be a distraction and an impediment to that growth. Anyone who got married too young can confirm that it is important to learn more about yourself and figure yourself out before you even think of getting involved with another person, who should not be your whole world. The Loki and Sylvie romance was reminding me of Classic Disney in another not-good way in that the two of them, especially on Loki’s side, were starting to revolve around one another and that does not make for a healthy relationship. Again, turning Loki into a Disney Prince (or, seeing as how he’s supposed to be genderfluid, Princess). Stop it.

Again, the romance was a smokescreen. It was a distraction from just how thin the plot was. Please, for the love of G-d, give more focus to the actual plot.

Do some research and talk to some psychologists for healthy ways Loki can “learn self-love" and develop as a character. If Ragnarok Loki can do it without relying on a romance with a variant with himself, then surely TVA Loki can pull it off.

Speaking of talking to people, listen to the concerns of the trans and genderfluid fans. Listen, talk to them, maybe get a couple in the writer’s room. CIS people should not write genderfluid people, and this season is a good example of why.

Please remember that Loki is not an idiot. Yes, he has pulled some fast ones and hasn’t been the greatest planner, but he is not downright stupid like he was in season 1.

And...really that’s all I have. As I have said, this thesis really wasn’t about making suggestions to the creators because I seriously doubt they will ever even see this. This was more less me screaming into the void, venting because I was that upset about what I saw as character assassination happening to one of my favorite characters. Keeping all of this in was proving to be bad for my blood pressure.

I am attached to the character, have been for years. Loki is just one character in the MCU who I love, who I want to see done right. I had been looking forward to his solo series for a very long time, and the disappointment I felt was something that I just couldn’t keep in. I kept my mouth shut when they killed off Tony Stark for no reason other than that Ronnie Downey, Jr. didn't want to renew his contract. I didn’t say anything at the Russo Brothers’ “happy ending” for Steve Rogers, even though I feel it made no sense and is a massive plot hole.

What they did to Loki, however...I couldn’t keep silent.

#loki series negativity #anti sylki

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aceofspadegrass · 4 years ago

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Can you maybe make a fic of just me and Niragi chilling and hangin out together at the beach?,just Niragi being calm for just one day.

(Of course his lynx and Fanta has to be there...and Dori)

And then Niragi would question things such as "Can I see your hair?" And I would say "No,only girls and family relatives can see it" "Why aren't men aloud to see your hair?" "Because,they will judge on just by or appearance and not our personality" "So does that mean,Kuina,Ann and Mira can see your hair?" "Yes,yes they can. We even has a girls sleepover party at Kuina's room that day with Ace and Chloe" And Dori dressing up as a women is like "A-and I'm not invited!?" "Dori,you're a boy..a grown man dressing up as smexy lady-"

A Chat with Ila

Characters: @a-simp-20, Niragi Suguru, Dori Sakurada

Genre: Fluff. Just @a-simp-20 vibing with Dori and Niragi and talking about hijabs! :D

1.4k words

Hehe, sorry I finally got around to this! I was taking a little fanfic break after posting 6 fics in a row, you understand right? (I say break as if it hasn’t even been a week pfft-)

I’m going to try my best to incorporate your culture, okay? Okay. :D I hope you like it @a-simp-20! Here, have this nice picture as well. (Sorry for tagging you three times in a row-)

It was late into the day, and wandering about the Beach was a group. It consisted of two men, a lady, and two animals, happily chatting amongst each other about normal topics, like how soft pillows were and the legality of eating fried crickets as a snack.

Which, by the way, was completely legal in certain cultures.

Fanta was happily trotting besides Dori, who was more focused on trying to paint his nails with clear polish on the move, humming a song. On the other side of him was Catra, the lynx wearing a rubber duck on her head for the sheer fun of it. Said rubber duck had a tiny felt cap on it, tiny lettering spelling the word ‘Chicken’ in Hiragana.

People naturally got out of the way upon seeing Niragi, but Niragi wasn’t even paying attention to them, knowing full well his sheer presence was enough to cause a reaction. That way he could focus on talking to Ila about totally normal human endeavours.

“ Have you ever sat in a bath in the dark with a little bit of light? It’s actually really soothing as long as you’re not scared of the dark, and it’s really quiet too!” Ila chirps, walking besides the bottle of black tea, Niragi shrugging. He’s never really had the time for himself for something like that. It sounded amazing though, and maybe when he had the time he would do it, even using scented candles and even bath salts. Ila smiles up at him. “ Aww, you really should, you look like you need one!”

“ Wh- Hey! What does that supposed to mean?!” Niragi accuses as he looks down at Ila, who smiles at him.

“ It’s really nice, that’s all! Especially here, where there’s so much violence going on, there needs to be a time to relax and ease your stress!”

Niragi just squints at her, then leaves it be. Ila had good intentions, so he just continues onwards, Dori humming behind Niragi and Ila.

“ If you want to, Niragi, I wouldn’t mind it if you wanted to borrow some of my bath salts! They’re some of my favourites, but don’t expect them to smell like anything. I prefer the unscented ones.” Dori offers Niragi, who just waves off his doppelgänger as they approach the TV room. The group enters, Fanta and Catra hopping onto the couch and claiming it as their own until Niragi shooed them off to sit on the ground instead. Fanta was a lot more nicer about that, Catra baring her teeth a little at Niragi, the overcooked barbecue giving her the disappointed dad look complete with his hand on his hip until Catra finally complied, Ila taking a seat right where the cat was previously, Dori taking the other side of the couch. That left Niragi to the middle, but he doesn’t take a seat just yet, heading over to the DVD case to pick out a movie for them to pass the time with. He pulls out a random case, squinting at the cover.

“ Hey, Sakurada. Why the hell are you on this?” Niragi holds the case up and looks to Sakurada. Sakurada comes over and peers at the case, gasping a little in recognition.

“ Oh! That’s Orange! It’s actually really good!” Dori smiles happily at seeing his face on the cover, even if it was really small. Niragi hums, looking at the cover. He points to the main characters on the cover, squinting at it.

“ The fuck, why are these two on here-“

“ Hm? Oh, that’s just Yamazaki and Tsuchiya! They’re actors as well! I kind of hope they’re alright, I haven’t seen them around lately-“

“ How many of you clone fuckers are out there-“

“ Well technically-“

Niragi holds a hand up, hushing Sakurada. “ Never mind, I don’t care anymore. Let’s just watch this.” Sakurada mutely nods and goes back to sitting on the couch, Fanta hopping back up and splaying his body across Sakurada’s lap, Sakurada chuckling in amusement and giving his dog a few belly tickles. Ila was visibly happy as well, Niragi sliding in the disc and going to sit down as the movie started to run.

Two hours later, and Ila was already talking about the movie and how nice it was, Sakurada nodding along with her as she went on. Niragi remained quiet, admittedly not having paid much attention to the movie or its plot, using it more like background noise and eye candy as he zoned out. He wasn’t really much of a romance drama movie kind of guy anyways, got too mushy for his taste.

Still, no use in spoiling Ila and Sakurada’s joy in the movie. Even Fanta seemed to be joining in on the fun, tail wagging excitedly as he sat there on Sakurada’s lap. Catra had sat at the foot of the couch the entire time, content where she was and occasionally grooming her huge paws and then settling said paws on Niragi’s foot and kneading it. It was a weird experience, but ultimately harmless.

The conversation soon died down, shifting to fashion sense, and Niragi’s attention moves to Ila, more importantly on the hijab on her head. It was actually a pretty salmon colour, and his staring contest with the side of her head went on too long, as his eyes met with a very amused face, Ila blinking and waving a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of it.

“ Is something wrong? Is there like…. lint on my head?”

“ Ah, no- Just wondering why you wear that. I don’t think anyone has seen your hair.” “ Well, men haven’t! That’s kind of the point! I’m a Muslim, and that means women wear these as a sign of modesty.” Niragi tilts his head. Why be modest here? It’s the Borderlands, technically anyone can do whatever they want. Then again, he guesses it applies to wearing it the same way as not wearing it. “ So….. why not?”

“ Well, it’s simple! We want people to not look for appearances and instead look for what’s right here!” She pats her chest, right where the heart was. “ It’s to keep men unrelated to us from seeing something they aren’t allowed to! If you were, for example, to marry a Muslim woman, then she’s allowed to show her hair to you, but only then! Otherwise that’s off limits to you!” Ila explains happily, Niragi slowly nodding and taking in the info.

“ So…. what about the ones that aren’t men?”

“ Then they’re allowed to see my hair! In fact, we, as in Ann, Kuina, Chloe, and Mira have sleepovers over in Kuina’s room! It’s actually really fun! Oh, but immediate male family members are allowed, but that’s it!”

There was a mildly offended gasp from Sakurada, who holds his hand over his heart. “ What? And I’m not invited to them? Even though I look stylish?”

Ila giggles, shaking her head. “ Even if you wear the prettiest dress and the nicest wig, you’re still identified as a male, and can’t be allowed to see my hair, Sakurada! It’s nothing against you, you’re doing great, it’s just how my religion functions between the relationship between men and women! It also means you and Niragi aren’t to touch me, even in a friendly context!” “ Wh- So you’ve never had a hug?” Niragi furrows his eyebrows a little, confused.

“ I have, just not with men.” Ila explains politely, still smiling. “ Being polite and modest is just how we are, that’s all! Of course, some cases of being touched by men are absolutely necessary, like with doctors, but when we can, we highly prefer not to be touched by non-mahram.” Niragi and Sakurada both nod at her words, Fanta barking. Sakurada point to Fanta. “ Does Fanta count?”

“ Well, not really? There’s technically different rules in set for dogs, but that’s for another time.” Ila responds, and gets up with a hum. “ Hey, wanna go see how many plastic ducks we can fit in Chishiya’s room?” Niragi grins, getting up so fast off the couch it almost was like he was ejected from it by a spring and running out the door, Fanta barking and running after him, Sakurada chuckling and getting up at a reasonable pace.

“ Come on, what are you waiting for! Let’s go fuck with the whipped cream pie!” Niragi yells, Ila laughing and following behind him along with the rest of the squad. It was a pleasant evening for some chaos after a nice long chat.

#aib #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #alice in borderland fanfic #niragi suguru #sakurada dori #niragi deserves a cat #I went ahead and did a bit of research to make sure that it was accurate enough-#this was actually really nice to write not gonna lie-#i don't know your stance on eating fried crickets so I kept it mostly vague-#it really just became a part of talking about muslim culture in a normal conversation #a real teaching moment for them :D #yes I included a sakurada acting career reference just because-#p.s. they got 102 ducks in his room before chishiya noticed-#ask

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cryptidvoidwritings · 4 years ago

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10. July | hurt/comfort

*nudges part three (3) into the void because ho boi did this one get away from me I have been writing and rewriting it forever and now we're coming in three weeks late with Starbucks but it's finally done because I am not reworking it for another week no I am not*

(PS: Part one (1) is here should you wish to read it)

(PPS: Part two (2) is here should you wish to read it)

“Release, ‘Lonz!”

Alonzo vaulted from Macavity’s back. He tumbled to the other end of the alley, pain screaming up his arms as he pushed back to his feet. His paw pads flaked off the burnt skin. Only after the lightning shot past him did Alonzo’s brain acknowledge Tugger had issued the familiar command. Petrichor covered the sharp scent of Macavity’s fire. Macavity scrambled back just before another bolt struck the ground. It blinded Alonzo briefly.

When he could see again, Macavity was gone.

“‘Lonz!” Quaxo shouted, hurtling through the dissipating shadows at the mouth of the alley. He stumbled to a stop in front of Alonzo, his paws fluttering over the extent of the throbbing burns on Alonzo's arms but careful not to touch them. “Everlasting, I can’t- We need to get back to- you’re bleeding-”

“Macavity’s. Quaxo, I’m fi-”

“You’re not fine! Tugger! Some help?”

“Not sure... I can...”

“What are you talking abo- ?” Quaxo’s head whipped around. “Fuck.”

He skittered to the Maine Coon, sparks bursting anxiously in his coat, looking helpless in the face of Tugger’s fragile state. He was standing, but only just, and he trembled visibly with the effort. A sizable puddle of blood had collected at his feet. His right arm hung limp at his side. Patches of fur were missing all over his body; what remained was matted with dried blood and dirt. His collar was gone- presumably, Macavity had burned it away.

Alonzo took Quaxo by the shoulders, trying to ground him. “Let’s get him inside.”

Quaxo nodded slowly, ears pinned back. “But what if-”

“Not gonna b-break, kit,” Tugger gasped.

Alonzo reached for his left side, which was generally untouched by lesions or burns. Tugger leaned into him- the patch tom wondered if he realized what he was doing- and met Tugger’s pain-glazed eyes. The inner half of each iris shared Munkustrap’s warm blue; the outer half was bright gold, verging on Macavity’s yellow.

Oh. Alonzo thought distantly. Stunning.

Tugger grinned crookedly; Munkustrap’s grin. “Y’okay, p-pretty face?”

The patch tom blinked rapidly, pulling himself away from the recognition of what he’d apparently missed for nearly two years. It went towards explaining why Tugger kept himself at a distance from most cats and why most cats were okay with that. Alonzo forced himself to stop staring, allowing a tiny smile to curl up the corners of his lips.

“You’re worried about me? I’ll be fine. Munkustrap is going to kill you for proving him right, though.”

“Ah, yeah,” Tugger attempted to laugh but wound up coughing harshly. “Y’r prob’ly right. In my d-defense... wasn’t, y’know. Expecting...”

“I know. Stop talking.”

“Can... do,” the Maine Coon sighed. His eyes slid closed. “S’rry ‘bout this.”

His body pitched forward. Alonzo caught his dead weight, biting back a pained hiss. He lowered the larger cat to the ground and settled Tugger’s head in his lap. He held his breath (and was pretty sure Quaxo did as well) until he felt a soft exhale over the back of his paw.

“Breathing.”

Quaxo’s body drooped in relief. “Can we still move him?”

“Better to have help. Is anybody else coming?”

“No. I... I was talking to Cass but I knew something was wrong and I just-”

“See if his humans are in. He says this one is his.”

The tuxedo sprinted down the alley. Alonzo licked gently at a shallow gouge in Tugger’s side while he waited. He was, selfishly, a bit worried that Tugger’s humans were home: They’d take Tugger to the thing that other cats with families called a vet. Alonzo wasn’t sure he could let Tugger out of his sight.

When Quaxo came racing back out, he was carrying a wet cloth, which he dropped into Alonzo’s lap. “Not home,” he said. “I’ll get help.”

Alonzo nodded- he hoped ‘help’ meant Jenny- and Quaxo disappeared in a puff of sparkles. Alonzo laid the waterlogged linen on Tugger’s injuries and watched it stain red.

“Your fur is going to take ages to grow back,” he murmured, forcing a levity he didn’t feel for the sake of keeping his head straight. He wiped tenderly at the Tugger’s side until he was satisfied that the gashes were clean. “We’re all going to make fun of you.”

Tugger remained still and silent. Alonzo didn’t dare touch his burned skin, so he lapped at the superficial scrapes on the Maine Coon’s chin and face, clearing away bits of singed fur.

“You’d better be okay, you great lout,” he sighed into one delicate ear.

“Alonzo!”

The patch tom jerked up. Quaxo and Munkustrap- who looked a bit disoriented- stood at the mouth of the alley. Munkustrap ran forward and fell to his knees in front of Alonzo and Tugger, ears back and pupils dilated in fear.

“Is he-” Munkustrap choked out.

“He’s alive,” Alonzo said urgently. He touched the silver tabby’s paw, pulling his focus away from the blood-stained cloth. “Is Jenny coming?”

“No, we’re going back. I don’t want anyone else leaving the yard. Quaxo, help get him on my back.”

Alonzo bit back an instinctive hiss as they started to maneuver Tugger out of his lap. Everything in him wanted to stay curled over the Maine Coon, to keep him safe from prying eyes, but the burns on his arms were throbbing in time with his heartbeat. It had gotten cold, anyway, and he always functioned a little worse in the cold. He tracked Tugger’s body until his vision went blurry.

“Alonzo?”

Quaxo’s face was in his. The patch tom blinked. His ears flicked in surprise. He hadn’t heard his brother move. Quaxo was silent, even among cats, but he’d never snuck up on Alonzo before.

“Time to go,” the tuxedo said softly.

“Right.”

Quaxo frowned. Alonzo wondered why.

“You’ve gone loopy.”

Oh. Wait. Had he spoken?

“Yes. Are you cold? You’re shaking.”

He was? Alonzo looked down at his legs. He could hardly feel his paws.

“Munk, he needs Jenny. But I don’t think I can come back if I-”

“Go. I’ll be fine.”

Go?

Quaxo caught Alonzo by the shoulders. The alley unfocused around them and the pavement changed under Alonzo’s feet. For a moment he thought he saw Victoria’s worried face.

Everything went black.

“- st have been in shock.”

Alonzo’s ears twitched. Talking? His surroundings were dim and there was a soft blanket under him. Or maybe several- he couldn’t exactly feel the ground. The blankets meant he was in a den. Jenny’s, by the scent of it. It made sense; it was her voice outside.

“It’s pure luck his paws weren’t infected.”

Alonzo wondered who she was talking about. He stretched his arms up lazily. They moved, but with an awkward weight to them that he wasn’t used to. As he brought them down, they fell heavily to the blankets. They were wrapped in bandages. Alonzo frowned in confusion. Jenny was talking about him?

“But he’ll be okay, right?” asked Victoria’s voice.

“Of course he will, dear. With rest and some good meals, he’ll be up and about in no time. He and Tugger both. Now run along. We’re watching them.”

The bit of rag that acted as the door to Jenny’s den moved aside. Alonzo blinked into the light, trying to sit up. Quaxo’s green eyes alighted on him and he stopped in his tracks.

“Well hello there, sleeping beauty,” Quaxo said softly, blinking slowly. “How are you feeling?”

Alonzo blinked back. “Kinda floaty.”

The tuxedo chuckled as he took a seat, curling his tail over Alonzo’s legs. “Jenny gave you the good stuff.”

Right. That’s why Jenny was outside talking about infections- he’d gotten burned while fighting Macavity.

“How long have I been out?” Alonzo asked, licking his dry lips.

“Not that long, dear,” Jenny said quietly, just beyond Quaxo. “It was nearing sunset when you came back yesterday and it’s only just setting again now. You needed the rest. Quaxo, love, get your brother some water while I make tea.”

Alonzo frowned, trying to remember how he’d come to be back at the junkyard. He hadn’t walked- Quaxo had... teleported them? Munkustrap told them to go, hadn’t he? Even though he was with Tugger? Alonzo sat up in a rush that almost gave him vertigo. Quaxo caught him and pushed him back down. He tried to break his brother’s hold, but his limbs weren’t cooperating.

“Tugger- where-?”

Quaxo turned him to the left. “Right here.”

Alonzo slumped against Quaxo’s chest, drinking in the sight. The Rum Tum Tugger looked more like a pile of gauze than a cat. He’d been laid out between Alonzo and Munkustrap. Munkustrap had carefully tucked his brother’s face into his shoulder and his chin was nestled between Tugger’s ears. He was so still that if Alonzo hadn’t been able to see his sides lift with each breath-

The tea kettle whistled. Alonzo dragged himself out of his thought spiral and watched Jenny pour the boiling water into the teapot.

“How is he?” he asked.

“Here, drink,” Quaxo said, holding a half-full cup of water to Alonzo’s lips.

Alonzo obeyed. As soon as the water touched his lips he became aware of his thirst. It was a fight not to gulp it greedily, knowing it would only make him sick. It helped that Quaxo wouldn’t tip the cup enough to let him take more than a sip.

“You cleaned his wounds well,” Jennyanydots said. Her face pinched with worry as she studied the sleeping cats. “He hasn’t woken yet. We only just got Munkustrap to sleep, the poor love. He wanted to stay awake until you were up.”

Alonzo watched Munkustrap and Tugger breathe, ignoring the throbbing reasserting itself in his arms. At least Tugger didn’t seem to be in pain. Quaxo traded places with Jenny, who appeared with a cup of tea that smelled medicated. His face screwed up in distaste and she chuckled.

“I know, but this will help you sleep.”

“I just woke up.”

“You need real sleep, dear. It’ll help the pain.”

Alonzo sighed heavily but he allowed Jenny to help him drink the tea. Whatever she’d put in it hit fast; barely a few minutes later he was yawning. He started to roll over, but the stark white dressings against Tugger’s black fur stopped him. He stared at it for a long minute.

“‘S it okay if I... cuddle?”

Jenny tilted her head quizzically. Quaxo snickered somewhere behind them. Alonzo opened his mouth several times but whatever he’d meant to ask had fled as the medicine muddled his brain. He resorted to motioning vaguely at Tugger.

Jenny bit her bottom lip in amusement but nodded. “Just mind the bandages.”

“Let me help you,” Quaxo said quietly.

Alonzo allowed it, mostly because the medicine was keeping him from moving with his usual precision. Quaxo got him rolled over and he snuggled in beside Tugger’s body. The Maine Coon was warm in spite of everything. Alonzo wrapped his tail over Tugger and Munkustrap’s legs. Quaxo curled up at his head and started grooming soothingly.

“Tell Vic ‘m okay?” Alonzo asked. “And Cass?”

“Of course, dear.”

Alonzo buried his face in Tugger’s mane and let the soothing darkness claim him.

Alonzo cracked a sleepy eye open. The den was placid. He lifted his head slightly, trying to determine what had woken him. Munkustrap was still sleeping; Quaxo was gone and Jennyanydots was nowhere to be seen, though she often slept with Jellylorum and Gus Jr. if there were sick cats in her den.

Something jerked stiffly against Alonzo’s body and a pained, breathless mewl broke the silence. Alonzo pushed himself onto his elbow, finally registering that the Rum Tum Tugger was trying to move.

“Tugger?” he whispered.

The one eye Alonzo could see was a slit of gold in the dark, hazy with half-consciousness. With Munkustrap and Alonzo curled around him as they were, Tugger could barely twitch, but it was clear that he didn’t realize it. A gasping trill escaped the large cat as he strained his limbs.

“Tugger, you’re home,” Alonzo murmured.

He leaned down to lick the Maine Coon’s cheek fur; it was damp and salty. How long had Tugger been attempting to move before his efforts had woken Alonzo?

The patch tom purred comfortingly. “You’re okay. You’re in Jenny’s den. Munkustrap is here.”

Tugger’s attempts to get up slackened. He forced his eyes open further and a shaking paw tried to lift from the nest, making it a whole centimeter towards Alonzo. Tugger’s glassy eyes met his and his lips moved but the best he could do was force out a breathy sound that might have been Alonzo’s name. Alonzo took the paw.

“I’m fine,” he whispered, hoping he was guessing correctly, “We’re safe.”

The Maine Coon slowly settled as Alonzo continued to purr comforting nonsense into his ears. He heard a weak but answering rumble and licked Tugger’s cheek again.

“Sleep,” he ordered softly. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”

Alonzo watched Tugger’s eyes slide shut. Only when Tugger was breathing calmly again did Alonzo lie back down, leaving his arm wrapped over the other cat. As he drifted off once more, the patch tom thought Munkustrap’s blue eyes were watching him, but he was asleep before he could confirm it.

When Alonzo next came to awareness, the Rum Tum Tugger was still sleeping soundly under his arm. He couldn’t see if there had been any change to the light outside and wondered idly how long he’d been sleeping. His paws weren’t throbbing quite as much, but he felt the sting when he attempted a careful stretch. At least his limbs weren’t flopping everywhere.

“You of all cats can’t possibly need this much beauty sleep,” Alonzo muttered, nosing into Tugger’s mane.

“Getting familiar?”

Alonzo almost jumped out of his skin as he jolted upright. Quaxo had the audacity to giggle. The patch tom flattened his ears in annoyance and slumped back into the blankets.

“Give me a heart attack,” he grumbled, baring his teeth half-heartedly.

“Sorry,” Quaxo said through his laughter. “It’s cute, though.”

“Oh, shut up. How long have I been out this time?” he asked.

“It’s just gone mid-morning. You slept the night,” the tuxedo said.

“Munkustrap?”

“Went to get breakfast. Should be back any minute. Paws.”

Alonzo obediently allowed Quaxo to unwrap and examine his paws.

“Jenny will be happy to know these look better,” Quaxo murmured as he dabbed them gently. When they were sufficiently cleaned he rubbed a bit of salve into them. “She’s just outside. She’ll probably let you out tonight.”

Alonzo nodded noncommittally as Quaxo rewrapped his paws.

“G‘nna... leave my... 'lustrious company?”

Quaxo and Alonzo spun around. “Tugger?”

The Maine Coon’s voice was husky with discomfort. He wasn’t able to sit properly, but he’d managed to get his head up and his eyes were no longer foggy. “You expectin’ someone else?”

Quaxo stumbled over himself and nearly ran into a wall in his haste to get outside. Tugger coughed a laugh as they listened to him calling for Jenny. A second later the tuxedo came bursting back in with Jennyanydots hot on his heels.

“Thank Bast,” Jenny murmured, bustling to Tugger’s side. “Alonzo, dear, help him up. Gently now. Quaxo, some water?”

Alonzo raised Tugger gently into his lap; he felt Tugger melt into his support and brushed the fur between his shoulders gently. Jenny sliced his bandages open with a delicate claw and removed the bloody gauze. Tugger held still as she worked, pressing his face into Alonzo’s shoulder while Jenny cleaned the gouges. His throat worked but he never made a sound.

“There we are,” Jenny said softly, securing the new gauze.

She stroked her claws through what remained of Tugger’s mane, grooming as much as checking that stray fur wasn’t getting in the burn sores around his neck. It probably said volumes about how he was feeling that his only objection was a shiver. When Jenny finished her inspection, she nuzzled his cheek.

“It’s good to see you awake,” she said with soft intensity.

Tugger smiled weakly. The Gumbie cat looked like she might have wanted to say more, but she stopped herself. She gathered up the pile of bloody gauze and nodded to Quaxo as she took it outside to dispose of. The tuxedo brought over a cup of water.

“Here, you should drink.”

Despite resting on Alonzo, Tugger’s body was trembling with the effort of staying upright. Alonzo held him steady while Quaxo helped him drink. He had just emptied the cup when Munkustrap entered the den, bearing a freshly dead rat. Jenny must have intercepted the silver tabby at the entrance; he didn’t seem totally surprised to see either Alonzo or Tugger up but his eyes were bright- and perhaps a bit wet with unshed tears of relief.

He dropped the rat at Quaxo’s feet and leaned in for a nuzzle with Alonzo. “You’re looking better.”

“Less drugged,” Alonzo agreed.

Munkustrap gingerly took up his place at his brother’s side once again. He pressed their foreheads together. “It’s g-...” he swallowed thickly and cleared his throat. “It’s good to see you awake.”

“That’s what Jenny said,” Tugger rasped, closing his eyes and leaning in.

Munkustrap batted him lightly. “Don’t make this weird.”

Tugger laughed and Alonzo couldn’t help the snicker that escaped him. It was a relief to see the large cat animated again, even if he was still obviously tired and aching. He and Munkustrap stayed still for a long minute, breathing each other’s air.

“I didn’t think he would- he didn’t say what he wanted,” Tugger blurted as they parted. “But he got... I dunno, he was... smug when he recognized ‘Lonz and I- ”

“It’s alright,” Munkustrap hushed him. “You scared the Everlasting out of me, but you did well out there.”

“The state of my fur suggests otherwise,” Tugger said dubiously.

“You got back up.”

Tugger flushed, recognizing the echo of his own words as clearly as Alonzo did. He nonetheless looked doubtful about the truth of it. Alonzo absently smoothed an unblemished span of Tugger’s fur.

“Breakfast,” Quaxo interrupted quietly, nudging the skinned rat forward.

The meat was already portioned out and Alonzo found himself somewhat absurdly grateful. On a normal day, a rat would be enough for a single meal; at the moment just thinking about a whole rat made him feel sick. He imagined that Tugger probably felt similarly. When they were finished, Tugger gave a jaw-cracking yawn.

“You should rest,” Munkustrap said immediately. “I’ll get you fresh bedding.”

“Been sleepin’, Straps.”

“Unconsciousness isn’t sleeping,” Quaxo chided. He popped up with a mug of tea. “Here, medicine.”

Tugger groaned. “C’mon,” he whined, “that’s hardly necessary, Sparkles.”

“Humor us. We’ve been worrying about you for two days and you’re still shaking,” Quaxo said sweetly.

The large cat muttered something that was probably unflattering but his paw crept out to take the mug. Alonzo reached instinctively to help him. As though he’d forgotten he’d been resting on Alonzo the whole time, Tugger startled. His blue and gold eyes slowly raised until they met Alonzo’s green.

“Oh, Everlasting, ’m still just lyin’ all over you, aren’t I? Sorry. I’ll move. I just, uh. Might need your help?”

“You don’t need to,” Alonzo said.

“No, it’s fine, you’ll wanna leave and-”

“I don’t.”

Blue and gold eyes blinked once. Twice. Squinted at Alonzo in confusion. “Huh?”

“Drink the tea and relax. I’m staying tonight, anyway.”

“O-oh... kay.”

Alonzo sympathized- he didn’t really know what had possessed him, either. He was just thankful that both Munkustrap and Quaxo were politely doing some completely unnecessary blanket refolding at the other end of the den.

“I don’t want to leave. You don’t need to move. Just... drink, okay?”

“... I still think this is entirely unnecessary,” Tugger grumbled, but he obeyed.

Alonzo steadied Tugger’s paws so he could drink the tea. He licked away a few stray droplets that fell into Tugger’s cheek fur. When Tugger was finished, Quaxo took the mug away. Munkustrap pulled the dirty blankets out of the way to be laundered and replaced them with fresh bedding. The silver tabby then helped Tugger into the remade nest. Tugger attempted to knead it out even though his lethargic motions didn’t do much.

“You’re sure you-” he started, an eyebrow creeping up.

“I’m staying,” Alonzo said firmly.

Munkustrap licked a stripe from the tip of Tugger’s nose up the top of his head. “Get some real sleep.”

“Don’t you have better things to do? A junkyard to keep safe? Cats to watch over?”

“What do you think I’m doing here, git?”

Tugger’s tail lashed in embarrassment, which he tried to hide behind a yawn. He stretched out and then curled up as much as the bandages would allow. Munkustrap chuckled and shook his head affectionately.

“I’m going to give everyone an update. Not going far and I’ll be right back.”

“Tell Bombs she still can’t have my title while you’re out there.”

“‘Title’?”

“She knows what it means.”

Munkustrap ushered Quaxo outside. When they were gone, Alonzo took a fortifying breath. He slowly laid himself along Tugger’s side, giving Tugger plenty of time to object. Tugger declined to do so. Alonzo nuzzled just behind his ear. It flicked against his muzzle but the Maine Coon didn’t make an attempt to move away.

“‘Lonz- are you really saying-”

“I volunteered to come after you,” the patch tom said slowly, “because I wanted to.”

“You never...” Tugger shrugged and turned to face Alonzo, “Well, you never seemed all that interested in talking to me. I could get more outta Quax than you most days.”

“I know,” Alonzo grimaced. “It’s... he’s still expressive even if he’s silent, see. I’m not. I thought it was... safer, I suppose. I didn’t know if I could... uh... keep up. With your fan club and all. It seemed easier to admire from afar and... not try.”

Tugger snorted in amusement. “So everybody’s favorite slinky was yearning after me all along, eh? Wait ‘till I tell Straps. He’ll be so jealous.”

“Braggart,” Alonzo said fondly.

“My achievements are real, though, so y’can’t say I’m lyin’,” Tugger grinned. He yawned again and pressed into Alonzo’s warmth. “Ugh, that stuff hits fast.”

Alonzo dared a quick kiss to the corner of Tugger’s mouth. “Go to sleep. We’ll talk when you’re up again.”

“Gonna hafta do better n’ that,” the Maine Coon said, lips curled softly.

He was clearly fighting to keep his eyes open. Alonzo huffed an affectionate sigh. He pressed their lips together lightly, careful to keep it light and almost friendly. There would be time for passion later.

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justheretobreakthings · 5 years ago

Text

Arms Wide Open

Written for @gentronlegendaryfriendships

Day Four: Meeting the Family | Cultural Exchange

Word Count: 4,396 Characters: Keith, Shiro, the Holts Read on AO3 My house, my rules, my ko-fi

Story Summary:

The Holts are hosting a cookout for the members of the Kerberos team and their families. Shiro brings Keith along.

The Holt family’s backyard was bigger than Keith had expected. Sure, the house was near the edge of town, where homes started spreading out as the borders between city and countryside started to blur, but still. Maybe it was just because Matt was such an indoorsy guy, a computer geek with a habit of hibernating in his dorm, and Keith had just wound up assuming that the Holts didn’t have a whole lot of use for a big backyard. He hadn’t considered that the rest of the family may be more prone to going outside than Matt was.

Or perhaps just the fact that the yard was currently so crowded was making it look bigger. Shiro had told Keith that this cookout was for the Kerberos team and their guests, but Keith had assumed that just meant him and the Holts. The ground team had completely slipped his mind. There were dozens of people here; a couple were instructors at the Garrison’s academy, a few Keith vaguely recognized as either guest speakers or people he’d seen talking with Shiro, but most were strangers.

A nudge against his shoulder, from the seran-wrapped plate Shiro was balancing carefully in his hands, reminded him that he was standing frozen in the gateway, and he edged a little along the fence to let Shiro through. “You all right?” Shiro asked him.

“Uh-huh,” Keith said with a tentative nod. “Just, um, more people than I thought there’d be.”

“Ah, sorry about that. Well, you don’t need to talk to anyone you don’t want to talk to, okay? A lot of these people are stuffed-shirts anyway, don’t want that ruining your fun.” He grinned. “Just focus on the food, yeah? You haven’t lived until you’ve eaten one of Colleen Holt’s burgers. She’s a wizard on the grill.”

“Okay,” Keith said, taking a deep breath to prepare himself before following Shiro into the yard. The food did smell good, and the smell just improved as they made their way toward the food on display on folding tables against the wall of the house, all lined up for people to make their way down after getting their main course from the grill, which was currently being manned by a short-haired, slender woman Keith took a moment to recognize, since he’d only ever seen Colleen Holt before in a couple of photos on Shiro’s phone.

Shiro waved as they approached, giving her a smile. “I’m assuming you saved your very best burgers for me?” he asked as she turned toward them and returned his grin.

“Well, I was going to,” Colleen replied. “But you’re late. I ended up giving them away to some people who know how to stick to a schedule. I hope you’ve learned your lesson, young man.”

“Hey, I’ve had a busy week, needed to catch up on paperwork before getting here.”

“Mm-hm. And what paperwork would that be?”

“Not important.” He held out the plate in his arms. “I brought brownies. Does this make up for the tardiness?”

Colleen leaned in to examine the brownies. “Aw, Shiro,” she said, “You didn’t need to bring anything.”

“Oh, please, I’m happy to. Nothing like a good homemade brownie to finish off a good meal.”

Keith furrowed his brow. “They’re not homemade. You bought those.”

Shiro made an exaggerated grimace. “Well, a bakery is more like a home than most other businesses out there, so I’m still counting it.”

“But you got them at the supermarket.”

Shiro grimaced as Colleen laughed. “That’s okay, I could have guessed,” she said. “He’s not exactly known for skills in the kitchen. So, Shiro, planning on introducing me to your buddy here?”

“Right, of course,” Shiro said. “Keith, this is Colleen Holt - ”

“Doctor Colleen Holt,” she corrected him.

“Doctor Colleen Holt. Sam’s wife and Matt’s mom. Also an astrobotanist; she was on the team that developed the modular cultivation system that the Garrison currently uses in its lunar biospheres. Colleen, this is Keith Kogane. He’s a cadet at the Garrison. Probably going to beat me out for best pilot in academy history by the time he graduates, but don’t let him get a big head about it or anything.”

“Ah, Matt mentioned you’d taken one of the cadets under your wing,” Colleen said, holding out her hand to Keith. “Good to meet you, Keith. I hope Shiro here hasn’t been too terrible an influence on you.”

“I’m an amazing influence and you know it,” Shiro said as Keith silently shook Colleen’s hand. “Keith, don’t listen to her. She once said to Matt, and I quote, ‘Why can’t you be more like Shiro?’ Of course, that was only in regards to table manners, but still.”

“And if you can ever manage to teach that boy how to use a napkin, I will admit you’re an angel sent from Heaven, but that’s a pretty big ‘if’. You can go ahead and put your brownies with the rest of the desserts, Shiro, they’re at the end of the - ” She started to point toward the end of the line of tables, then frowned. “Katie!”

A girl who had been standing at the table jumped, her cinnamon-brown ponytail whipping around as she turned to face them, a partially eaten cookie dangling out of her mouth. Matt had mentioned before that he had a sister, and immediately Keith pegged this girl as her. Her face was a carbon copy of Matt’s; give her glasses and a shorter haircut and she could easily be mistaken for a younger version of Matt himself.

“What?” Katie asked through her cookie.

“How many of those have you had?”

Katie chewed thoughtfully at the cookie and swallowed before answering, “Like, fifty?”

Colleen sighed. “I told you to be sure to leave some for everyone else. You should at least try not to make yourself sick. Or eat some vegetables between the desserts.”

“Sorry,” Katie said with a shrug, not sounding sorry at all. She lifted her hand in a little wave. “Hi, Shiro. Those for me?”

“Hi, Katie, and no.” Shiro pulled the plate of brownies toward his chest. “If your mother says no more desserts, then no more desserts for you.”

“Kiss-up,” Katie said.

“Watch it, Katie,” Colleen said pointing her spatula at her. “You all promised to be on your best behavior today.”

“Matt calls him a kiss-up too.”

“Matt says it as a term of endearment,” Shiro said with a smirk. “Ah, Keith, you haven’t met Katie Holt yet, right? Matt’s little sister and gremlin extraordinaire. Katie, this is Keith. He’s a cadet at the Garrison. Top flier of his class,” he added with a note of pride in his voice, thumping Keith on the shoulder. “Katie’ll probably be applying to Garrison next year, so she may be a future classmate of yours. Scratch that, she definitely will be, she’s already nearly as good with computers as her brother.”

Katie snorted. “Nearly? I can code circles around him. If I was a couple years older, you can bet I’d be on that Kerberos mission too.”

“But for now, you’re here on Earth with us,” Colleen said. “And your job right now is to set out Shiro’s brownies for him, okay? And no eating them, you’ve had enough sugar to last you a week already.”

“We’ll see,” Katie said, stepping forward to take the brownies from Shiro and moving back to the dessert table.

Colleen sighed, rolling her eyes before turning back to Shiro. “All right, let’s not let these things get cold. You two want burgers or hot dogs?”

“Burgers for both of us,” Shiro answered. “Please and thank you.”

Colleen set buns onto paper plates for both of them before adding the patties and handing them off, and with a nod of thanks, Shiro led Keith down the tables to scoop up toppings and sides. He grabbed a large handful of the cookies Katie had been eating, looking around as if worried she was going to swoop back in and steal them from his plate - as far as Keith could tell, she had simply vanished from the yard, maybe slipped back into the house while he wasn’t paying attention, but he decided to take a cue from Shiro and be on his guard anyway - and passed two of the cookies to Keith before pulling two cans of lemonade from the cooler beside the dessert table before motioning Keith to follow him farther into the yard.

Keith balanced his plate carefully as they walked, one hand on top of the food to keep his potato chips from falling to the ground. He was nearly bowled over by two kids running past him right between him and Shiro, and right before they reached seats at one of the folding tables scattered throughout the yard, something cold nudged against his leg that made him jump, but he did manage to get all the way there with nothing being dropped. And the thing that had nudged him turned out to be the nose of a bull terrier, who wagged his tail enthusiastically while staring at Keith’s plate with shining eyes. Keith relented, ripping a piece of his hamburger bun off and handing it to the dog as he took his seat.

The dog wolfed it down without pausing to chew, then jumped up and put his front paws on the table, tail wagging even harder as his snout reached for more of Keith’s food. Shiro laughed. “I should have warned you,” he said. “Once Bae Bae knows you’re a sucker for the puppy dog eyes, he’ll never stop his begging.”

“Sorry,” Keith said.

“Hey, don’t apologize, I fell for it too my first time visiting. Hey Bae Bae!” He clicked his tongue, and the dog’s ears perked up as he turned to Shiro. “Ready?” Shiro said, lifting his clenched fist. Bae Bae stared intently. “Fetch!” Shiro turned around and tossed something Keith didn’t see across the yard, and Bae Bae took off, tongue flopping to the side of his mouth as he ran.

“What did you throw?” Keith asked.

“Nothing,” Shiro said. “Bae Bae’s not exactly as smart as the rest of the Holts. So.” He gestured toward Keith’s plate. “Go ahead, take a bite, tell me if you like it.”

Keith lifted the burger and bit into it, chewing slowly as Shiro watched eagerly. “All right,” Shiro said as Keith swallowed. “Is it amazing?”

“I’ve only had one bite,” Keith said.

“Okay, fine, take a few more.”

Keith did, contemplating the bite as he chewed, then nodded. “Yeah, it’s really good.”

“Best burger you ever tasted?”

“Uh… I mean, I really like the ones over at Larrison’s diner.”

Shiro raised a brow. “Wow, Keith. You’re really going to do Colleen dirty like that.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like the burger. Just, it’s not the best burger ever.”

“You know what, maybe it’s a matter of cheese complementing her burgers better than it does at Larrison’s. Suppose we’ll have to try to scrounge up some no-lactose cheese somewhere and come back sometime so you can try again. See if that - ah, Major Whitaker, good to see you.” He cut himself off as a middle-aged man took the seat across from him.

“Lieutenant,” the man said. “You read that article that came out this morning on that exoplanet survey satellite? If I might bend your ear for a few minutes, got some ideas about getting some collaboration worked out with the data we get from Kerberos.”

Keith chewed silently, letting his focus drift to his food as Shiro delved into conversation with the other man. Some of the stuff they were mentioning Keith could understand from his Garrison classes, but other parts were above his pay grade. He had finished the burger and had moved on to his chips by the time Whitaker spotted someone else he needed to talk to and took his leave.

“Sorry about that,” Shiro said, turning back to Keith with a little smile. “He tends to get right into talking, doesn’t bother with formalities like introducing himself.”

“That’s okay,” Keith said.

“You know, if you’d like, this can be a bit of opportunity to meet some of the other people involved in the Garrison’s manned missions. Considering how easily you’ve already taken to piloting, some of these people may be future crewmates of yours. Let’s see.” He turned in his chair. “Colonel Molina there, she was on the flight crew to the Garrison’s first expedition to Enceladus, and was one of the engineers who designed the Kerberos’ cockpit layout. That woman she’s with - crap, can’t remember if they’re fiancées still or wives now. Ah, well, not important. Uh, Dr. Velitchkov’s the one in line at the grill now, he’s our propulsion engineer, part of mission control. Captain Hashim’s mission control too, our flight dynamics officer. She’s the one over at the cornhole boards, those boys are her stepsons. Oh, the man at the table right there under the tree - ”

“Uh, Shiro,” Keith said. “This is - this is a lot of people to keep track of.”

“Right. Sorry, you’re right. Well, hey, if there’s anyone of interest you want me to introduce you to, I will, but set your own pace, all right? If you wanna just eat your chips in peace, that’s fine too.”

“Thank you.” Keith dipped a chip into the baked beans on his plate, munching on it as he glanced around at the gathered guests. Already he had forgotten every name Shiro had just told him, and the faces crowded around the yard were blurring together in his mind until they all looked the same. He shook his head, focusing on his food as Shiro chattered with a couple of other Garrison staff who came by the table. He nodded each time Shiro introduced him, but that was the only contribution he made to the conversations.

The meal was able to pass easily that way until one officer asked to borrow Shiro from the table, wanting to introduce him to his young daughter who apparently wanted to be an astronaut some day and was a very ardent Shiro fan. Shiro flashed Keith an apologetic smile as he got up. “I’ll only be a few minutes,” he said.

Keith nodded and waved him away, but the meal didn’t last him the rest of those few minutes, since he was already halfway through his dessert - two of Shiro’s not-homemade brownies - when he left. Once his plate was emptied, he sat at the table, unsure of what to do next. The people seemed louder when Shiro wasn’t next to him, the yard smaller and the smoke from the grill thicker.

He swung his legs for half a minute, thinking of tracking Shiro down and dragging him back over, but thought better of it. There were things to do at the cookout - cornhole boards and a badminton net were set up, and there were plenty of people just talking and laughing to pass the time - but they all required nerves and social energy that Keith simply didn’t have today.

Finally he settled on tracking down that dog and playing with him for a bit, and after scanning the yard, spotted his tail following someone through the back door of the house. Keith stood from his seat, moving to enter the house too, and tried not to draw attention to himself from the few people who had gathered in the kitchen. Instead he looked around for Bae Bae, and went to the stairs when he heard a jingling collar and the sound of paws climbing up the steps.

He hesitated at the bottom of the staircase, wondering if he was invading the Holts’ privacy by going up there, but decided he could at least check to see if the dog was just up in the hallway, not in anyone’s room. So he followed up the stairs and spotted Bae Bae. Not in the hall, but through an open doorway, lying on his back in a bedroom with his paws dangling in the air and his tongue flopped out, seemingly waiting for a belly rub. The other occupant of the room, though, hadn’t seemed to have noticed him there, since she had headphones on and was concentrating on what appeared to be some sort of fantasy MMO on the computer screen. Katie, Keith remembered, that’s what her name was.

And even though she hadn’t noticed anyone else around, Bae Bae did, and he rolled over, wagging his tail at the sight of Keith and letting out a bark. Katie jumped a little in her seat, lowering her headphones and turning around. “Uh,” she said. “If you’re looking for the bathroom, it’s the next door over.”

“No, I, uh - ” Keith cleared his throat. “I was actually just - I was following - ” He gestured toward Bae Bae, suddenly realizing how childish it probably seemed to have left the cookout to focus on following the pet around.

Katie, though, didn’t seem to think much of it, since she just shrugged and gestured him inside. “Go nuts. He likes scratches right behind the ears.”

“Okay.” Keith slowly entered the room and lowered himself to give Bae Bae the scratches, and he thumped his tail and panted eagerly at the petting. Keith glanced back at Katie’s screen. She seemed to be playing as some sort of troll or ogre carrying a hulking maul, and a picture of the character’s face in the top-left corner labeled her as Pidgeotto321 above a half-full health bar. “So, um, what - what are you doing up here?”

“I live here,” Katie answered.

“I mean, up here instead of at the cookout?”

“Oh.” She shrugged again. “I got bored. Been to a lot of these Kerberos things for Matt and Dad. After a while they’re all the same. And I always get the same questions. Oh, are you going to go to the Garrison too, follow in your big brother’s footsteps? Like they think I’m only interested in space to copy him. Or, wow, a whole year without your dad and brother, are you gonna miss them? Yeah, no shit I’m gonna miss them. Still say they could’ve waited a few years to go on this mission, wait until I’m old enough to go too, but…” She trailed off, grimacing. “God, sorry. Didn’t mean to ramble.”

“S’okay,” Keith mumbled.

“Just, ugh.” Katie sighed. “I’m excited for them, I really am, but it’s also kinda like, once the mission’s over and they’re back, it’ll be a relief, you know? Like, it’ll all stop being this big looming thing we gotta all prepare for. You been to many of these event things with Shiro?”

“A couple,” Keith said. “And I, uh, I get it. I’m gonna miss him too.”

Katie let out a little thoughtful hum before removing her headphones all the way and turning in her seat toward him. “So, like, out of curiosity, what are you two anyway?”

“Hm?” said Keith.

“You and Shiro. Are you cousins?”

“Um, no. Did - did he say we were?”

Katie shook her head. “Was just a theory. You look like you might be Japanese too, but not as much as Shiro, so I figured you couldn’t be full brothers, but you could be cousins. Or half-brothers.”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m - I might be, I guess.” Keith didn’t actually know his ethnicity. His surname was probably Japanese, and he had seen on some of his social workers’ paperwork in the past that he had been marked down as mixed-race, but that was as specific as it got. His dad had died before Keith even knew what ethnicity was, and so had never asked about it, and of course his mom was just a giant question mark as he didn’t even know what she looked like.

“But you know, um - ” He cleared his throat. “Even if so, it’s not like all Japanese people are related.”

“Well, obviously,” Katie said, rolling her eyes. “But he invited you to a family cookout, right? Just assumed that probably meant you were related somehow. Are you?”

Keith blinked at her. His hand stopped scratching Bae Bae, and the dog nudged him in an attempt to regain his attention, but Keith was too focused on Katie right now to pay any mind. “What do you mean? He said it was a Kerberos cookout.”

“Yeah, for the Kerberos team and their families. That’s what the invitation Mom e-mailed out said. Most everyone else brought their spouses and kids, but obviously you’re not Shiro’s husband or son, so, you know. I was just wondering.”

“Oh. Um, we’re - he’s kind of, um, he helped me with - with applying to the Garrison and stuff, and uh, we - he’s done some, uh - ” He cleared his throat. “You said the bathroom was the next door down?”

“Uh-huh,” Pidge said, frowning. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Keith stood up. “Just, uh, just need to pee, that’s all.”

“Okay. Well, have fun.” She turned back to her computer as Keith left.

He didn’t head to the bathroom, though, and instead went back down the stairs and toward the yard. He didn’t get all the way there, though, because Shiro was in the kitchen, casting Keith a relieved smile at his entrance. “Hey, I was wondering where you ran off to!” His smile receded a bit as he caught Keith’s expression. “Something up?”

“No,” Keith said. “No, um, no, just - just, I was - I didn’t - ”

“Here.” Shiro swooped in to usher him away from the kitchen, where his stammering had started to attract attention, and into the Holts’ living room instead. “Now,” he said. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Keith said. “I just, um… why - why didn’t you tell me this was a family cookout?”

Shiro frowned, brows drawing pensively together before slowly asking, “Are… you upset by that?”

“No. Well, I mean, I - I’m not upset, but - but - why am I here?”

“What do you mean?”

“This is supposed to be a family thing. I’m not - I shouldn’t be here. I should go - ”

“Hey, hey,” Shiro said softly. “Keith, it’s okay. It’s fine. I’m sorry, bud, I hadn’t realized that this was going to be distressing for you. I should have asked you ahead of time, if you were comfortable with going to a family event. That’s on me.”

“No, that’s not - why me? You’ve got family. Actual family.”

Shiro’s frown deepened. “Well, uh, my parents are about a ten-hour drive from here. Seems like a long way to travel for one cookout. But Keith - ”

“What about Adam? He’s your fiancé, you should have brought him, you - ”

“Keith, I am sorry. I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I just thought…” He let out a breath. “You know, for a long time growing up, I wanted a little brother, and lately, helping you out with school and… well, with everything we’ve been doing, I suppose I’ve started thinking of you as - well, regardless, I’m sorry if that was overstepping your boundaries. If you don’t want me to think of you that way, I won’t. I promise.”

Keith bit his lip, shaking his head. That wasn’t it, it really wasn’t. After all, hadn’t he himself started to look at Shiro that way too? The guy was the perfect role model, had taken Keith under his wing and asked for nothing in return, had been there through every misstep Keith had made as a cadet and every low point, taught him about flying and riding hoverbikes and boxing and life. If Keith pictured the perfect big brother, he pictured Shiro.

But lots of people probably fantasized about having a big brother who was perfect.

People didn’t fantasize about having a little brother who was a needy, reckless screw-up.

“You - you shouldn’t,” Keith choked out. “You should - you should have a really good family. Your family should be really good people.”

“Keith, what do you mean?”

“I mean… you’re Shiro.”

“You’re Keith.”

Keith huffed. “I - I don’t get it. Why do you bother? You’re supposed to - you can do better.”

“Keith - ”

“You’re supposed to save being ‘family’ for people who are related to you. Or - or for - for when people have earned it. You can’t just throw it around like that, it - that’s not how it works. You’re supposed to - ”

He hadn’t realized his throat was tightening up until he choked on his words, and immediately, there were arms around him, and Shiro’s head was on his shoulder, speaking softly in his ear. “God, Keith. You’ve… people have really done a number on you, haven’t they?”

“I - ”

“You don’t have to earn anything from me, okay? I promise Keith. I like you. I like spending time with you, I like teaching you. I like making you feel better when you’re down, I like that you pretend to like my cooking.”

“I like your - ”

“No you don’t, but I like that you’ll lie for me. I like watching you succeed. I like seeing you grow. In my eyes, that makes you family. It’s not some elite class you’ve got to work your way into, Keith. It doesn’t matter what I’m ‘supposed’ to do, that’s not how family works. I don’t have to call you my brother or anything, not if you don’t like it - ”

“I, um,” Keith said softly, “I didn’t - I didn’t say I don’t like it. I’m just…”

“Not ready for it?”

“... I dunno?”

Shiro nodded. “That’s okay. That’s your call. But don’t you ever think that it’s not something you deserve, Keith. Don’t ever think that. Because it’s not true, not one bit.”

Keith nodded, sniffing before mumbling, “Okay.”

Shiro gave him a firm pat on the back before pulling out of the hug. “Now,” he said. “Matt was outside a few minutes ago, and he thinks he and Sam can beat the two of us at cornhole. You up for helping me crush his self-esteem?”

“Uh-huh,” Keith said, giving Shiro a hesitant smile.

“Attaboy. Come on, we’ll let him know we’re ready.”

He wrapped his arm around Keith’s shoulders and steered him back toward the kitchen, and as he did, Keith cleared his throat. “Um, Shiro?”

“Yeah?”

“If - if you wanna call me your brother, just, every once in a while - so I can, um, maybe test it out, see if I can get used to it - that, uh… that’d be okay, I think.”

Shiro grinned. “Will do, little brother.”

#vldgen #gentronweek #keith #shiro #pidge #colleen holt #my writing #fic: arms wide open

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nukyster-blog · 5 years ago

Text

Changing course: Chapter 8) Into the Abyss.

.-.-.

Another day started and Ivar woke up due to muscle cramps. A strong, painful contraction rippled through the muscles of his calves, making his feet spasm and grit his teeth. Now that he was forced to sleep on a cold damp floor, the pain and cramps came more frequently. In Kattegat, his mother would apply hot drenched skins to lessen the tension, or order a thrall to run him a hot bath.

Of course such luxuries were out of the question in this damned shed. Aside from massaging and stretching his feet, there was no practical solution that would magically make the pain go away.

To make Ivar’s morning even more sour, the Giant barged through the door. Inspecting the sack of peeled onions, an approving hum escaped the tall man’s lips.

With three long-legged strides, he was right besides Ivar and sank his calloused fist inside his pockets.

Ivar half expected the brute to draw a knife and gut him. But that thought could not have been further from the truth. The Giant retrieved a key, which unlocked Ivar’s shackles.

Without a word the Giant exited the shed, carrying the onion sack on one of his broad shoulders.

Ivar’s breath had been caught inside his throat, his eyes still staring at his free legs in disbelief. Piglet scurried around the edge of his box, eyes still groggy of sleep. That soft gleam quickly casted out once her gaze focused on Ivar’s unlocked shackles.

It took the both of them a moment to put two and two together. In that moment, Piglet’s hand had covered her mouth and Ivar’s jaw had nearly dropped to the floor.

Then their eyes locked like magnets, one with predatory desires and the other growing out of proportion.

Ivar flung forwards and chased Piglet out of the shed like a rabies maddened dog. The young woman managed to slam the door in his face and took a sprint across the muddy field, leaped over a wooden hedge and tumbled down onto the ground.

Ivar dragged his body alongside the door and found himself knee and elbow deep in mud and pig feces, the murky grim did not stop him from slouching through the mess to close the distance between his prey.

Ivar was about to throw himself up the hedge when Piglet squatted back on her bare feet and picked up a hoe, ready to imbed the iron blade into his skull if he dared to leap up.

Piglet fumed words in her mother tongue, undoubtedly curses and stomped the wooden tip of the hoe angered on the cobblestones.

Ivar only glared at her with an unrelenting stare. Baring his teeth, he barked like a dog which startled Piglet, letting the hoe slip through her fingers.

He could hunch his upper body over the frame, it was not a tall fence and it was the only obstacle between him and Piglet. Although it would please him to strike out to that inferior creature, his newly learned place in this world made him pause his chase.

As it was, his insufficient hunt had earned him another round of mockery and ridicule. Serfs, peasants and maidens stopped their daily labour to wonder what monster had scared the dark skinned slave girl all across the pigsty.

Although every inch of his body was clayed with mud, Ivar felt utterly exposed. He’d made a fool out of himself and looked not much better then the pigs that joyfully tottered around to greet their new cage mate.

Ivar tried rubbing the mud from his chin, only wiping more of it onto his face. To make his humiliation worse, Piglet vengefully emptied a trough over his head. A mixture of spoiled leftover food, rotting crops and yeasting oats dropped all over his head, face and lap.

The pigs' curiosity evolved in gluttony, nearly breaking their short stubby paws to be the first one in line for the feast. Ivar had to push and pull between wiggling tails and fat bellies to crawl himself out of the circle of pigs. By the time he managed to free himself, Piglet was long gone and he found no better option than to hide back inside the shed.

Word must have spread about his little frenzy. Ivar had dozed off a little and the cool water hit him like a battering ram. What hit him next was the Giant’s fist. It knocked him out for a brief moment.

He woke up while his body was dragged along by the Giant; the man’s fist locked around his ankles. Like a rag doll, he was pulled across the pigs tide and quickly the flooring changed: cobblestones made his head bounce up and down. A grey sky drifted above him, an unpleasant drizzle watered onto his face. The hazy silhouettes of an immense fortress flash by him, but the world was spinning too hard for Ivar to focus. Once his eyes did manage to focus, they focussed on one solid thing; a well.

“Wait, no, no please-” Ivar tried, but the Giant picked him up by both shoulders and threw him down the dark chimney.

Ivar’s faint cry echoed all the way down until his feet hit the surface, followed by the rest of his body. The cold water seeped through his ragged clothes and took him under. His arms made a weak attempt to keep his head above water, but soon his clothes weighed him down. He screamed, again and again and managed to smother a whimper as a bucket tied with a rope, dunked down next to him.

Ivar tried to steady himself, as good as he could. Like a fish caught on a hook, he was being reeled in.

The Giant sat on the stone edge, while two peasants did the heavy work.

With a cold deadpan expression, the man rubbed his thumb over Ivar’s dirty cheek, then rubbed off the mud on his own trousers and tsked.

Without any warning he gave Ivar a hard nudge against his chest, who’s arms flung around in desperate need of something solid, anything to remain above ground.

The second time Ivar hit the water was even worse, because he knew that this was nothing more than a game to his master. A sick little game to show him who was in charge, a game he might not survive.

The trial of being pulled up and pushed back down repeated itself two more times, before Ivar’s illusions of surviving were gone. Once the water reclaimed him, his arms lacked the strength to resist. Soon, the oxygen deprivation took away his thoughts and like a body without a soul, it reacts to reflexes. Ivar took a breath and water started to fill up his lungs. His body grew heavy and he sank further and further into the darkness, swallowing him whole.

.-.-.

A/N: So yet again, Ivar mistreated Piglet and I’m not saying he deserves being drowned repeatedly… But I certainly enjoyed writing the whole thing. I must say I’m very much in love writing this entire story, it’s rather refreshing to write about a new fandom and I love doing all the research. Ivar is a very rewarding main character to drabble about and there are a lot of options for the storyline.

Thank you again for reading and you’d make my day by leaving a comment!

Xoxox Nukyster Them tagged ones: @xbellaxcarolinax @youbloodymadgenius @saldelys @shannygoatgruff @apenas-mais-uma-pessoa @readsalot73 https://lauraaan182.tumblr.com/ @pieces-by-me

#vikings fanfic #vikings fandom #ivar the boneless #Ivar as a slave #ivar's heathen army

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rowanswolf · 5 years ago

Text

Callous Luck

Note: I do not own Warrior Cats! This is simply a fanfic idea I came up with using Warrior Cats.

Blurb: Puddlepaw stares at the crimson lacing his paws. His tail sways with the fur ruffling winds as he inspects his claws in silence. Blood drips down onto Icyhorizon’s cheek. A grin peaks on Puddlepaw’s maw.

“IcebergClan… will do best without you, mentor. I wish you well into NightClan.”

The solid gray furred tom turns away, his mind focusing on one thing and one thing alone, Earthleaf. Puddlepaw purrs at the thought of his mate, well, soon to be. The moment he got his full medicine cat name that is.

He stops, scenting two… Earthleaf! Puddlepaw’s heart pounds at the thought of the brown and blue-gray she-cat. He bounds towards her scent with round eyes. However, his excitement is cut short as he smells Compass, otherwise known as Icyhorizon’s son. It seems like his luck had run out, but no matter, Puddlepaw would force it to bend to his will.

Crouching low, his gaze steadies onto the threat.

“Earthleaf…?” Compass shuffles, his meow low. He bares his fangs as Compass glances around.

“Huh? Oh! Uh- What is it?” Earthleaf meows back, watching the sky with great interest. One day she’ll look at me like that! His heart flutters at the thought.

“... Nevermind. Anyways-”

Puddlepaw watches as Sprucepaw, Earthleaf’s younger sister, flies out of the brush and at Compass. Aided by Frostpaw, Chirppaw, and Foxfin who leaped out of the undergrowth soon after. Compass, acting on reflex, lashed out at Sprucepaw, his right paw striking her eye, his left slashing the edge of her neck. This causes her to shriek and stumble back. Earthleaf and the others stare in horror as Sprucepaw hits the ground with a thud.

“SPRUCEPAW!”

It’s my time to shine. While yes, Sprucepaw’s misfortune was horrible, he could use it to his advantage to rile them up further. They already feel enraged and horrified by Compass’s actions, now if he adds in “new news”… who knows what they could do.

He dashes out of the grasses, a caterwaul forced to come out his maw. “Icyhorizon was-” Puddlepaw skids to a halt, faking a long pant. Blood stains his paws. “Icyhorizon was killed by him! His own son!” He shrieks loudly. Compass stares at him in horror and confusion. Foxfin’s face deadpans before a cruel glare cuts across it.

She tackles Compass, screeching. Her words… shock Puddlepaw.

“HOW COULD MY OWN SON KILL HIS FATHER?”

Tears weld at the edges of her eyes. Everyone stares in bewilderment. Compass’s eye light in terror, trying desperately to wriggle from his mother’s grasp. “I- I-... didn’t!” He squeaks out pathetically, an odd sense that he was lying spreads through the cats. Foxfin’s gaze narrows. The air around them had become as frigid as the arctic northern waters.

She snarls. Foxfin raises her paw high above Compass. “You never were meant to live… but he sacrificed everything for it. Only for you…” Puddlepaw notices her paws had begun shaking. The words seem to dry in her mouth as scarlet covers the ground.

I am luck itself, it seems.

Plot: Puddlepaw is the medicine cat apprentice of IcebergClan and he’s good at his duties, however, he wishes to raise a family. Due to the belief that if a medicine cat has a mate and kits, they will be forced to give up their soul, he tries getting rid of that dream. He soon finds this impossible as he falls for Earthpaw.

At first, things between them are innocent and happy, however, as he begins falling further, love turns into obsession. Puddlepaw plots a way to get rid of the three main cats pushing this message, those being, Icyhorizon (his mentor and IcebergClan’s medicine cat), Glacierstar (IcebergClan’s leader), and Orcatail (IcebergeClan’s deputy).

He gets close with his mentor and learns that Icyhorizon had a kit with a she-cat in IcebergClan, however, at the same time, a famine had begun, cats believed it was Icyhorizon’s fault and his kit’s. Thus, he “killed” Blizzardkit. In truth, he gave Blizzardkit away to a kittypet named Sweetie and he was renamed to Compass. Oddly, Puddlepaw notes nobody seems to know or even remember Icyhorizon had a kit.

Puddlepaw doesn’t investigate as he has higher priorities. At night in the Arctic Seas, he trains with Smokewave. There is another cat that trains with them, that being Sprucekit, Earthpaw’s younger sister. Though she can’t do too much, she shows promise.

Soon, he’s at the end of both his medicine cat training and his training with Smokewave. Sprucepaw still trains with Smokewave, however, Smokewave never lets Sprucepaw meet Puddlepaw.

He kills Icyhorizon when they are gathering herbs together and he removes the fur from his claws. Puddlepaw races away, only to head towards Earthleaf and Compass who are talking. Soon after he arrives, Sprucepaw, two other apprentices, and Foxfin attack Compass. Compass, on accident, blinds Sprucepaw. Seeing his opportunity to strike due to the tension and rage, Puddlepaw races out and tells them that Icyhorizon is dead and Compass killed him.

It comes out Foxfin is Compass’s mother then she kills Compass to get vengeance for his father. Everyone is shocked, especially Earthleaf. Puddlepaw comforts her and learns that he was a good friend of hers.

Puddlepaw is given his ceremony at the Icestone, the NightClan cats seem to hold no memory of his actions and his mentor greets him sorrowfully. Oddly, Icyhorizon says that he “never wished for Puddlepaw to see his own son kill him”? He knows for a fact Compass did not kill him… No matter, he’s given his medicine cat name, Puddlefreeze, after Ivyhorizon who he spent all his time with.

Up next were Glacierstar and Ocratail. In that time, he had gained aid from Foxfin and her family, Salmonriver (her father), Crowspots (her mother), Nagoonfang (her sister), and Reindeerstomp (her brother) through saying they wanted to kill IcebergClan. Together, they murder Glacierstar and Ocratail.

Puddlefreeze tells everyone that rogues killed Glacierstar and Ocratail and under his breath, said that Glacierstar and Ocratail only wanted to kill rogues. Everyone, including the ones who murdered them, mourned them greatly despite their former wild hatred.

He appoints Foxfin as leader. She in turn makes Blazetalon the deputy. Now, nothing stands between him and Earthleaf being together. Or so it seemed. Lynxkit seemed to have something akin to him… that being the “ability” to lie and have it held as truth. Only he noticed Lynxkit’s lies were in fact lies. Puddlefreeze makes Lynxkit his apprentice, his mind now focusing on his newfound lust for power. Of course, he did try going after Earthleaf’s affections but no longer were they of interest to him.

He questions Smokewave on the matter. The tom avoids the question, however, leads him to someone who “could” answer his questions. That being? Arcticstar, the first ever leader of IcebergClan. Puddlefreeze learns the truth…

Arcticstar was a necromancer, or as she called herself, a deathtaker. StarClan was furious at Arcticstar’s actions of rebinding dead cats to their living bodies. Out of this rage, they exiled her into the freezing arctics, where she got her name. However, she rebelled and killed all SeaClan cats with her revived, subservient army. Arcticstar, who was Skyflash at the time, renamed herself to her current name.

These cats bended to the will of her, always believing what she said on a whim. It carried down for generations, always avoiding the cats who she spared from this fate and she gave them the power of bending others to their will. Those used to include Icyhorizon and Glacierstar. However, when Puddlefreeze came into the picture, that changed.

See, all of IcebergClan had ties with those Arcticstar once had revived but… Puddlefreeze was descended from not only a rogue, but from Arcticstar herself. Thus, he trumped that and all cats bent to his will instead. She even freed Lynxpaw from this and gave him the “gift,” but not even he could escape Puddlefreeze’s abilities.

Arcticstar tells Puddlefreeze that she doesn’t care what he does to IcebergClan nor what he does to the inhabitants of NightClan, just that he takes into account what he can do.

Puddlefreeze finds that now, more than ever, he has something far more interesting on his paws, more so than his love for Earthleaf. Now that he knows he doesn’t have to move a fur for her affection, he can focus his sights elsewhere. But where will that “elsewhere” take him? Well, he’ll have to see when he gets there.

Characters: Puddlepaw/Puddlefreeze, Icyhorizon, Earthpaw/Earthleaf, Blizzardkit/Compass, Sprucekit/Sprucepaw/Spruceblizzard, Frostpaw, Chirppaw, Foxfin/Foxstar, Glacierstar, Ocratail, Sweetie, Smokewave, Salmonriver, Crowspots, Nagoonfang, Reindeerstomp, Blazetalon, Lynxkit/Lynxpaw, Skyflash/Arcticstar

Clan: IcebergClan

Clan Description: IcebergClan is a large clan that lives in an arctic tundra near the sea. Many of their dens are built like igloos. Their former leader was Glacierstar, who was replaced by Foxstar and their former deputy was Ocratail, who was replaced by Blazetalon. Icyhorizon was their former medicine cat and now their medicine cat is Puddlefreeze and his apprentice is Lynxpaw.

Clan Roles: Leader, Deputy, Medicine Cat, Warrior, Apprentice, Elder, Queen, Kit

#warriors OC #warriorcats #OC

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catcodemon · 5 years ago

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MORE hugfic. written for @s-o-s-from-earth since they weren’t feelin too well and i, as the resident Fretful FRiend, must assure that they are at least happy while they recover.

[ao3 link]

He feels, quite frankly, useless like this. Bed-ridden as he is, there is not a variety of things to do. His eyes barely focus on anything he looks at as he gazes around his room; more often than not, he opts to simply keep them closed. Keeping them open is a task all of its own.

Vega doesn’t know yet. The AI had taken his state as merely well-deserved sleeping in. While he knows Vega will eventually catch on to his sorry state if he stays like this, he blows it off for as long as possible.

Distantly, he can hear Vega and Inky chattering to each other: an impatient, squeaky noise from Inky answered calmly by the mech’s response.

Mrrah!

“Yes, dear, I am aware,” Vega chuckles. Something lands on the ground with a thump!, likely Inky giving up her perch on the counter.

Mah!

“You think so?” Vega muses. “Should we check on him?”

A pause. Myrrh!

Ah. So Vega is growing wise to his condition. He supposes he should at least try to get up to assure the other that nothing is wrong. The idea is daunting, but he is not one to show weakness. A deep breath summons all of his willpower and strength as he swings his legs over the side of the bed. Attempting to get up onto his feet proves to be a challenge--his head goes hazy and fuzzy as dizziness sets in, but he is persistent. A few minutes spent bracing himself on his desk with one arm allows him to gather his wits enough to continue. His steps are clumsy, unnaturally uncoordinated for him, but he tries his best to blow it off as exhaustion.

The door of his room whooshes open as he approaches. The dim-lit hall greets him on the other side, scarce and vast. Usually, he spares no second thought traversing from one room of the Fortress to another. This time, he seriously considers turning back to rest instead.

No, he tells himself. The Doom Slayer, savior of mankind, does not turn back for such a thing as exhaustion. Gather your wits, focus your energy, and get going.

His feet make audible sound as he pads down the hall, one arm still braced against the wall should he get dizzy again. He can still hear Inky chittering to Vega from the main room. Hell-bent determination makes him continue, footsteps uneven, though he hopes it’s not noticeable to anyone other than himself.

Rounding the corner to the main room of the Fortress, he shields his eyes as the brightness of the LED lighting and starlight pierces through any shadows that exist. He sees Vega at the consoles, a datapad in hand, as he sits idly with one hand extended for Inky to rub against. The Slayer is positive the mech must have heard him approaching, but he does not look up until the man is in the room. Inky pauses in her frantic hand-bumping to look to him as well, chirping a greeting. Only then does Vega look up.

“Greetings, dear,” his smooth, warm voice rumbles. “I take it you have had enough sleep to settle yourself?”

The Slayer attempts to detach from the wall, gambling to see if he can stay balanced on his own two feet. His steps fumble as he descends, making Vega tilt his head, concerned.

“Are you sure you are in fair condition?” Vega frets, setting the datapad aside. Inky stretches her head towards him from where she sits, seemingly scrutinizing him as well, piercing green eyes staring straight through his guise.

He grunts in response, struggling to stand up straighter. For a moment, it seems that he’ll be able to hold his own: the dizziness goes away, his head clears, and his balance returns. He rolls one arm in its socket, cringing at the pops and cracks that sound in response.

“Are you…” Are you sure you’re sure? He knows it’s what Vega is about to ask. No offense is taken by it, however; he knows the other is prone to fretting.

Dismissively, he waves one hand in the air. Vega hums, unconvinced, but lets the topic go. Inky hops down off the console desk, landing near-soundlessly, trotting over to weave between his legs happily. Her tail wraps around his bulky calves, following her as she makes figure-eights at his feet. He wants to stoop over to pet her, but second-guesses it at the last second.

“For God’s sake,” Hayden’s voice cuts in sharply over the speakers in the room. “Vega, sit him down before he passes out,” he grumbles.

“Why would I do that?” Vega counters smoothly. “If the Slayer says he is stable, then I believe him.”

Hayden snorts. “You expect that man to admit he’s not in top shape?”

“I trust him to be honest enough to let me know if he is not.”

The Slayer’s gut twinges. Is he somehow being dishonest to Vega by feigning stability? Inky brings him back to his thoughts, and he decides the only way to prove that he is alright is to show it. He sets his feet as Vega smartly counters Hayden’s not-quite-worrying quips, bending his knees to stoop over to get Inky within reach. She turns to him excitedly, eagerly settling herself between his hands to be lifted. He tucks her in one arm, her front paws reaching up onto his shoulder, the other hand steadying him as he stands back up. Already, she is purring, ferociously rumbling against his torso.

“I’m telling you,” Hayden insists, “he’s lying through his goddamn teeth. Make him rest.”

“Slayer?” Vega asks, looking him over. “Is Hayden correct in assuming you are unwell?”

Inky squirms in his arms, resituating herself. It’s just enough to unsettle him. His balance sways and he reflexively reaches a hand out to rest on the console desk to keep himself upright.

Vega is quick to act. He swoops in, slipping his arms under the larger man’s, ensuring he stays stable. The Slayer can feel the mech’s worried gaze looking at his face as his eyes cross, making him blink rapidly. Vega continues to hug him as he regains control of his body.

“Fool,” Hayden spits. “Get him to--”

Inky hisses in his arms, making both of them jolt. She wriggles out of his grasp, thunking to the floor, tail twitching irritably. She paces over to where Hayden’s ragged torso hangs limply before stretching up and teasing her claws on the metal.

The slight scrape is all it takes for Hayden to backtrack. “Fine,” the man snaps. “You know what to do, apparently. Disregard anything I have to say,” he grouses.

“Gladly,” Vega mumbles under his breath, making the Slayer’s mouth quirk up in a smile. At the same time, the mech seems to realize just what he had done on reflex, quickly retracting his arms and stepping back to a respectful distance. “I apologize Slayer, I did not mean to intrude. I was merely ensuring you did not lose your balance.”

The man blinks owlishly at him for a moment before it registers. Vega thinks he had intruded into the Slayer’s personal space and that he would be disgruntled by it. Without thinking, he huffs a slight laugh.

Vega looks at him worriedly. “You are…?”

‘It’s fine,’ he signs shakily.

“No, you are not,” the AI scolds. “You should be resting, no?”

The marine shrugs. Should be, but he doesn’t want to.

“I know you are wont to do so,” Vega tries to reason. “But you should seriously consider at least sitting down until you are stable once more.”

He knows Vega is correct. He should be relaxing, letting his body recuperate and get over whatever little spell of sickness he’s caught.

Inky chitters from the hallway, seemingly beckoning the two of them to follow her. Vega hums amusedly. “I may not know best,” he starts, “but she does, correct?”

Finally, he relents. He can hardly resist Vega’s persistent fretting, but he is not one to go against Inky when her mind is set. He straightens himself up, taking the steadying hand Vega offers to him, and begins to amble back down the hall. Inky checks over her shoulder frequently to make sure they are following her to her satisfaction. Another low, rumbling chuckle resonates out of him. Vega seems to positively glow as he looks up at the man’s rugged face, finally comfortable now that he has agreed to rest like he should.

Vega ushers him into their room, where Inky waits impatiently for them to settle on the bed where she can cuddle them properly. Gently, Vega helps him sit down, leaving to fetch him a glass of water afterwards. Inky promptly takes the chance to clamber into his lap, long fur tickling at his exposed skin as she attempts to rub her cheeks against his chin. He lowers her head to let her do so, smirking as her whiskers dance along his face. He loses himself in stroking her fur for a moment, content with simply being in her company. Vega quickly returns, setting the glass down.

“I will not go so far as to urge you to lie down right now,” he advises, “but you should if you feel dizziness once more. I believe the sudden onset is a result of insufficient nutrition over the past few days.” He huffs. “Somehow, you have managed to slip out of the schedule I had set for you, deliberately or not. I will do my best to ensure you return to normal to prevent another case in the future.”

The Slayer listens as he fluffs his pillow to make it more comfortable to lean back against, which he does so blissfully. Inky is quick to follow his warmth, settling on his stomach and curling into a compact ball. One of his hands wanders to her back, digging into her thick, black fur. He looks back up to Vega, blearily signing out something to the mech with his free hand.

‘Stay?’

Vega seems to melt at the request, his stern facade dissipating immediately. “Of course,” he hums, settling onto the mattress next to the Slayer. He tucks up into the provided space in the crook of the man’s arm, leaning against his thick torso. Inky adjusts herself to lie in the dip between their bodies, once again starting up a tremendous purr that they can both feel.

#me: i will write 500 words. that's a good amount.#me: writes 3x that amount #doomvega #vegadoom #inky the cat

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blog-sliverofjade · 5 years ago

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Hearth Fires 2: Sneaky Like a Cat

Pairing: Remi Denier x OFC

Summary: Lorel Maddox just wants to live as a human, run her bakery in peace, and forget. Unfortunately, the alpha of the local leopard pack has very different ideas. Remi Denier doesn’t know what to make of the female Changeling who wants nothing to do with him or the RainFire pack. He does know that he has a driving need to protect her. Even if it’s from herself. While they’re embroiled in a battle of wills, there’s a war brewing on the horizon. The outside threat could not only destroy everything they hold dear, but tear apart the fragile new bonds of the Trinity Accord, plunging the world into bloodshed to rival the Territorial Wars of centuries past.

Word count: 2466

Hearth Fires Masterlist

Beta read by the invaluable pandabearer

Remi entered a familiar code into the comm screen and sprawled out on the large cushions scattered around the main floor of his aerie. Waiting for the call to connect, he cracked a longneck and took a swig. Stomach rumbling, he wished he’d at least gotten a cupcake before scaring the piss out of the little baker.

He knew she didn’t intend any harm to the pack. But sometimes what happened wasn’t what one intended, as he knew very well. Just like he hadn’t intended to throw out that ultimatum. He’d wanted to get a sense of her and make the offer. Then she’d turned him down and it was like his brain had switched off and his alpha hindbrain had taken over.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been turned down since he started building RainFire; it was, however, the first time a lone submissive female had said no. Generally, ones like her didn’t go roaming for as long as she had. The feeling that something was amiss with her hadn’t left him, like an itch that he just couldn’t scratch.

“I’m flattered I’m your drunk dial,” Lucas Hunter said dryly, “but I have a mate.”

“I’d’ve to be drinkin’ bad hooch to be drunk dialin’ your laide tchew,” he snorted. “And I’d hope it’d make me blind.”

Hunter snorted, then reached down out of view of the screen and picked up a little, black cub by the scruff of her neck. Naya purred loudly enough that Remi could hear it and butted her forehead against Lucas’ face, even though her body continued to dangle limply in his grasp.

“You know better than that,” her father frowned at her, unfazed by the cute affection, and tapped her nose. The responding mewl was adorable enough to pierce even the most jaded heart. “No, you can’t have a cookie, but you can say hi to Remi.” He pointed to the screen and set her on his lap. A fluffy black tail rose high and curled at the end in greeting.

“Quoi se fais du mal, possede?” His cat stopped its irritated pacing and chuffed in amusement at the pair of bright green eyes that now took up most of the screen as she leaned in to greet him.

“She’s been using my chair as a scratching post.” Remi coughed to cover a laugh at the other man’s deadpan expression that barely hid his amusement. At the recount of her misdeed, she flopped onto her back and put one paw over an eye as if to say “oops.” Hunter had answered in his office at DarkRiver HQ. If he’d been at home, which had cushions instead of traditional furniture much like Remi’s own, his daughter would have sharpened her claws on a tree instead. “Can you make it quick? I have a meeting in ten.”

Remi laid out the situation to Lucas, who listened without interruption.

“She says she didn’t know ‘bout the expansion.” He spread his hands wide.

“You posted to Packnet?” Hunter referred to the network utilized by Changelings all across the world. Even loners used it, primarily to keep track of claimed territory to avoid accidentally trespassing. A mistake meant death for a predatory Changeling.

“’Course I did,” Remi snapped in frustration. Lucas let that one slide. “Damnedest thing is she says she’s never heard of it!” He ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Bullshit,” he snorted, then darted a glance at Naya, who’d climbed up to drape herself across his shoulders. “You just don’t like your options.”

“Could you run a submissive off your lands?” he snarled. Lucas gave a low warning growl to remind him that they were both alphas; his cub stopped kneading his shoulders and her ears swivelled forward, looking for the threat. Remi had to rein his cat in before they got into a pissing match; it had been on edge since he stepped into the bakery. The animal, too, was disturbed with the mystery that was Lorelei Cain Maddox.

“Buy her land, her mortgage, and any other debt out from under her if she doesn’t play ball. It doesn’t have to come to combat.” A ruthless solution from an alpha who was as accustomed to fighting in the boardroom as he was with teeth and claws. The merciless alpha stroked his daughter’s back, lulling her back to her sleepy state. He looked like a damn villain when he did that in that chair.

“Mais.” Blowing out a breath, he took another drink to give himself time to consider the suggestion. He shouldn’t have made the offer at all if she made his hackles rise, not until he figured out why. Now he had to deal with the fallout and any leverage would serve to protect the pack, even if he didn’t use it to force her hand. “Might have to. She looked like she’d rather chew an arm off than listen to me.”

“I can’t blame her if you were your usual charming self.” Remi flipped him the bird, but there was no heat in his accompanying glare. Lucas huffed in laughter. “You can’t help those who don’t want to be helped, you need to focus on your own. If she won’t play ball with you, she might with your enemies.”

“Ca me rapelle, there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. I’m forwarding you something.” He set his bottle down and fired off the email as he spoke. “Several folks in town reported receiving this.”

“’Trinity’s Goal is Human Genocide’,” Lucas read the subject line with a snort. “’We won’t be replaced, trying to take power, subjugate the human race…’ Yeah, we had something like this awhile back, so did StoneWater. Do you know where it came from?”

“We got someone working to trace it. I was wonderin’ if your people have time to look at it, might be tied to the one you mentioned.” The older pack had resources that RainFire simply didn’t have yet and he wasn’t above asking for help to keep his pack safe.

“It might be the same group, but extremists tend to use the same catchphrases; it’s like they just swap out the nouns. I recommend keeping your sentinels on alert.” Remi nodded. He’d already briefed those that hadn’t brought the situation to his attention, but if this was a larger threat then they needed to know that, too.

“We’ve got some friends in the city, I’ll ask them to keep their ears to the ground.”

“This might be an individual, but if it’s a cell working to sway public opinion your friends will probably hear of it first. I’ll have my team see what they can find.” Lucas’ eyes narrowed, but that didn’t hide the teasing glint in his green eyes that looked so much like his cat’s. “You know, the mentorship was only meant to last the first year.” While that year had passed nearly nine months ago, the two of them had kept in regular contact.

“You don’t have to answer my calls,” he shrugged and tucked a hand behind his head. “I could always ring up Hawke. Say, you got his number?” Hunter scowled at the mention of the SnowDancer alpha.

“Are you so hard up you’d ask a wolf for help?”

“I’m asking my Trinity representative for help with somethin’ that might be a bigger problem, but if you’re too busy…”

“Naya, say ‘adieu’ to Oncle Couillon .” She waved her tail back and forth.

“Bye-bye, cher.” Remi blew the cub a kiss. “Donne la belle Sascha un bec pour moi.” Before hanging up, Lucas gave him one last scowl for telling him to kiss his mate for the other alpha.

He pulled out his organizer and began to plot. She might be stubborn, but he had an entire pack behind him and he wasn't afraid to use it.

At the sound of the front door opening, Lorel set down the cranberry coloured frosting she was piping onto rows of cupcakes. She wiped her hands off on a damp white washcloth that was already smeared pink and red with previous uses.

Stopping in the archway that led to the front, she stifled a groan. The customer who’d entered with her daughter was a changeling: a leopard, to be specific, and one of many who'd managed to wander into her shop over the past week. Even if she didn’t have a note in her scent that matched an element of Denier’s, she obviously had to be a member of RainFire. It seemed like she'd already met half the freaking pack, and, in the southern custom that she was rapidly coming to learn, a quick chat was at least half an hour long.

She could hardly refuse to serve the woman; not only was it illegal, but it would be hypocritical. Besides, changelings were extremely loyal and prolific customers at their favourite restaurants due to their higher caloric requirements. And not to mention it was probably unhealthy for her if she pissed off RainFire.

Somehow, she was sure the asshole was behind the parade of leopards in her bakery, even if she had no way of proving the suspicion. She had seen some underhanded tactics in her time, but this latest was the lowest of the low. Standing up straight, she braced herself.

A little girl in a lavender tutu dress toddled up to the display case like she’d found Nirvana. Her dark hair was tied up in loose buns that bobbled with every step of her purple, glitter rainboots. It was impossible not to smile at the sheer joy that lit up her face, which was marked with what looked like slashes from a set of claws, yet they lacked the pigmentation and texture of scars. They appeared to be birthmarks, albeit pale instead of dark.

“Cookie, pease?”

Seriously, those big, guileless eyes should be registered as lethal weapons.

“What kind would you like?” Lorel asked after glancing at the adult with her to make sure it was ok.

“Dat one!” A tiny finger pressed to the plas-glas pointed to a set of sugar cookies shaped and frosted to look like various types of leaves: green fading to brown, yellow to red, and whatever other combination had occurred to her at the time. Lorel picked one of her favourites: a maple leaf with yellow at its centre, surrounded by orange, and turning to red at the edges. For the veins, she’d drawn a knife through the frosting to create lines of colour that bled outward through the gradations.

“Make it a dozen, please, and a dozen each of the caramel apples, the maple pecan cupcakes, and, ooh, pumpkin cheesecake snickerdoodles,” the woman said, her eyes lighting up with the last order.

She nearly did a double-take. That was her entire stock of each of those items and over half of her seasonal items. Not that she was about to complain. She wrapped the maple leaf in a napkin and handed it to the girl, experience telling her that it wouldn’t last enough to warrant packaging.

“Thank you!” she chirped and rose on her tiptoes to take the leaf. The cookie was bigger than both of her hands. Settling back on her heels, she took a bite and exclaimed in delight, eyes going impossibly wide. Lorel struggled to breathe past the ache in her chest.

Avoiding eye contact with both of them, she quickly boxed up the goodies. The sooner she got them out of there, the sooner she could breathe easy again. It didn’t help that her cat was currently clawing at her with a fierce need to play with the cub. Kid , she mentally reprimanded herself.

“Is something wrong?” Lorel stared at the other woman for a heartbeat before she realized she’d been shaking her head while silently rebuking herself.

“Oh no.” She donned a smile like well-worn armour. “Just talking to myself. Thinking about how many to bake tomorrow, you know?”

The customer nodded and hummed in agreement, but something in her eyes said she wasn’t buying it.

“It must be hard to move to a town where you don’t know much of anyone and take over your aunt’s business.”

Lorel’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t trust sympathy from a cat, not even one with a child that appeared to be loved and treasured.

“Small towns, everybody knows everybody.” The other woman shrugged off the suspicion cast her way. “By the way, I’m Tien and this is JoJo.” JoJo was currently spinning in the sun streaming through the window and watching her skirt flare out. The glitter in her boots flashed brilliantly in the light. With each bite of her cookie, she hummed a happy little tune.

The pang in her chest was back.

“Lorel,” she flashed her customer service smile, the small one when she wasn’t really feeling like smiling. Luckily, she was ringing up the sale and therefore had an excuse to avoid anything more than briefly flicking her eyes at Tien. Then she gave the total and they went through the ritual of the transaction.

“Here’s my number.” Tien jotted down the code on a slip of paper she’d found in her purse. “Let me know if you ever want to talk or if you ever want to… I’d say go for coffee, but,” she broke off with a laugh and gestured at the espresso machine. “Do lunch or something.”

She couldn’t decline without being rude, and being rude in a small southern town would spell disaster for her business. And the other woman’s smile was so broad and genuine that she smiled back despite herself.

“Thank you.” Lorel took the scrap and slipped it into her apron; today it was yellow and edged at the bottom with lace. The lavender flowers on it matched the full-skirted dress she wore.

“Come on, kidlet.” Tien herded the girl towards the exit.

“Bye!” JoJo waved and skipped out the door, offering a bite of her cookie to her mom, who accepted with an “mmm!”

Lorel sank back against the counter and thrust her hands into her pockets, idly fingering the contact number. How could they be so happy and obviously well-adjusted in a pack with an autocratic asshole like Denier? Although, was there really any other kind of alpha? In her admittedly limited experience, the answer was no.

And yet neither of them had, had the hollow, guarded eyes that were the result of abuse from those in power. While the rest of the pack seemed friendly enough, no doubt the carrot to Denier’s stick, it wasn’t something she was used to.

She crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the recycler.

No matter how honest she appeared to be, Tien was still Denier’s pawn.

Notes: Remi isn’t canonically Cajun, it’s left ambiguous (“with a name like that sounds like he should be hunting gators in a swamp somewhere”). But I like the idea that he can play the dumb swamprat, or the suave southern gentleman, or a shark in the boardroom because he learned how to dominate whatever room he was in and that he had to learn to blend in (*foreshadowing of my personal HC’s).

I'm a bit of a language nerd. The evolution of Louisiana French is interesting because it basically takes Acadian French and drifts it, then splices in some Choctaw. And it appears to share some quirks and sentence structure with French Creoles. I'm not sure if that's due to sharing a "parent" language (I don't know enough to say) or due to cultural exchange in the region.

The Cajun French in this chapter comes from published dictionaries and articles written by native speakers, then cross-referenced (or simply plugged into google to see if similar results pop up). Then if I need to conjugate something or figure out grammar, I'll run it by my spouse who speaks Quebecois (which evolved from Acadian, too), but isn’t French Canadian. So if it’s atrocious, my apologies and please let me know.

Laide tchew - ugly ass

Quoi se fais du mal - what trouble have you been getting into?

Possede - literally possessed one, a term for a mischievous child

Mais - Literally French for “but.” According to kenwheatonwrites.com it “means “well then,” and is used to delight, shock, exasperation — any number of things. It’s almost like “dude” or “fuck” in its ability to morph into anything depending on situation, tone, delivery and other factors.”

Ca me rapelle - That reminds me

Oncle - uncle

Couillon - idiot, imbecile, funny person. In standard French, it means dickhead or bastard. I like to think that Lucas knows standard French, which helps him to understand Remi when he's slipping into his native patois. ;)

Donne la belle Sascha un bec pour moi - give the lovely Sascha a kiss for me

Fun fact: "bec" can mean "kiss" and "beak." So I'll tell my pet birds "bec la bec!" I'm easily entertained, what can I say?

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perspective-series · 6 years ago

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Pet Perspective (12/19)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Injury, fears of death

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There were a lot of things that had gone wrong in Roman’s life- this was one of them.

To clarify, the escape had been going great. Roman had managed to make his way a full block away from the apartment before it even got dark, ducking through the underbrush and carefully timing his darts out in the open. He mostly stuck to front gardens, knowing it was more covered and less likely to be inspected without anybody out for gardening today.

Down past the edge of the block, Roman had discovered an oak tree, with acorns scattered around the base. Not believing his luck, Roman also discovered a little stream of freshwater nearby as well. It was hardly a trickle to a human, but to Roman it meant everything. This could be the perfect place to set up a base, especially after he began to dig a small burrow beneath the tree roots.

Unfortunately, it was during this last task that Roman ran into trouble. He was digging long into the night, hard at work carving out a suitable home. The night made him tense; too many predators came out to prowl, looking for an easy meal. He wished he could finish faster, feeling like there were eyes on his back.

Roman tensed, realizing that feeling had never been wrong. He turned, spotting the glowing yellow eyes peering at him through the darkness. As his eyes adjusted, Roman could see the shadowy figure’s tail swishing back and forth, ready to pounce.

“...crap.” Roman cursed, dashing over the tree root and towards the brambles. He knew he had no hope of outrunning a cat, but the coverage slowed the beast down long enough that he might have a change. The creature kept meowling incessantly, swiping its paws into the bush of his most recent hiding place and breaking off some of the branches.

“Go away, you furball!” Roman screeched, dodging out of the way just in time as the claws came for him again. At this rate the whole neighborhood would be woken up. Why couldn’t Kitty of Hell just give up the chase? Time dragged on, Roman’s adrenaline soon beginning to fade as he sluggishly repeated his actions, his dodges getting slower. How long had they been at this game of cat and borrower? Minutes? Hours? It was hard to tell; all Roman knew, was that unless something changed soon, he very well might lose this time.

Lost in his thoughts, Roman was too slow and felt a sudden agonizing sensation rip through his right half as those wretched claws cut his arm and side. He yelled, shouting off every borrower curse he knew in the feline’s face, adrenaline spiked back up and he pressed himself further into the brambles that only irritated his wounds further.

The sound of faint shout caught a man’s attention and he shone his phone light near the base of a tree. It was there he saw a cat, eagerly pawing at something. As a few words reached the man’s ears, he could only assume the cat was after an escaped borrower. He had come across a few in his time. Especially since he was one to take nightly walks like this.

He shooed away the cat before kneeling down and using his phone to see if it was in fact a borrower or not.

Roman tensed, raising a hand to block out the light and noticing the human peering down at him. The borrower groaned, knowing there was no use running in this state but still feeling absolutely pathetic. He had only been gone a number of hours and was already caught again because of a stupid alley cat.

“Well, how did a little thing like you get all the way out here?” The man spoke, reaching out and grabbing the borrower in a gentle fist. He noticed the collar right away. “And looks like someone might be missing you.”

Roman just glared at him, hating how he knew that might even be true. No, no it wasn’t… Virgil would have noticed he was missing by now. He was probably furious with him and never wanted to see Roman again.

“Welp, let’s get you to the shelter so they can contact your owner.” The man said. Technically, the shelter wasn’t open but there was always someone there to take any found borrowers. The man entered and handed the borrower over before tipping his hat and leaving. The woman at the front looked the borrower over, looking closely at the collar and putting it in her notes to call it in the morning.

“Well, looks like you got into quite the fight.” The woman mused, noticing the injuries.

“It was a stray cat.” Roman grumbled, knowing the shelter’s process by now. Hopefully that mangy calico didn’t have any sort of disease.

The woman hummed and took Roman into the back real quick. She wasn’t the resident vet so all she could do was wrap the injury up to the best of her ability. “There we go, hopefully that will last until morning.” She then took him into the main area and set him up in his own cage. “Alright, we’ll call your owner in the morning.” And with that, she left.

Roman sunk to the floor, putting his head between his knees. It didn’t matter. None of this mattered. He knew Virgil would react the same as the others, getting pissed over the phone and disowning him on the spot. Nobody wanted a borrower who slipped away, it was a breach of trust and too much trouble. More specifically, nobody wanted him.

Why hadn’t he just stayed put? Virgil had been right, Roman had a good thing going there. Even if it was just a few days, Roman had fun. Maybe it was because he got away so fast that Roman still held the human in such a positive light (humans were often nicer the first week or so), but somehow Roman knew that on the list of ‘owners he didn’t completely despise’ Virgil had somehow wriggled his way to the top.

Roman didn’t know how to feel about that, especially since he would likely never see Virgil again.

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Patton came down the stairs bright and early to see Virgil passed out on the couch. He frowned and already knew what Virgil had been up to for most, if not all, night. He sighed and decided to let Virgil sleep as he went into the kitchen.

However, that was when Virgil’s phone went off, jarring him awake. He blinked down at the unfamiliar number before answering it. “‘Lo?” He said, still tired.

“Is this Virgil Storm?” The voice asked.

“Yeah, this is him. What’s this about?” If this was another scam thing…

“I am Holly Beckett of the Borrower Shelter here in town and a borrower by the name of Roman was just dropped off here last night.” Virgil shot up, suddenly wide awake.

“You have Roman?” As soon as he got the confirmation, he was already putting on his shoes. “I’ll be right there!” He exclaimed, wasting no time as he hung up and grabbed his keys.

Patton, hearing Virgil yell, had come out of the kitchen. “Roman was found?”

Virgil nodded. “I’ll be back.” He said before rushing out the door.

Virgil burst through the shelter door, going up to the front desk as he panted. “I’m...Virgil Storm. I’m here for Roman.” He said through breaths.

“Of course, he’s in there in cage A7.” She handed him the keys and Virgil took them before going into the room. His eyes landed on the cage-and Roman-almost immediately.

“Roman!”

Roman jolted, painfully torn from his existential musing by a very familiar voice. He blinked, looking up and trying to comprehend what he was seeing. Virgil was here?

But… oh god, this was a horrible thing, right? Roman had never had to face the consequences of his actions before. Virgil must be furious with him if he came all this way. Was he going to beat him up or something? Would the shelter let him do that? Probably, if he hadn’t been officially disowned yet. In his fear Roman scooted back, clutching the traitorous tag that had gotten him into this mess. It was always better on the times when he was recaptured after he had removed the collar.

“Oh my gosh, you’re here! You’re okay.” Virgil fiddled with the lock before opening the door and gently grabbing Roman. He briefly held him to his chest, just taking a moment to calm his nerves and tell himself that Roman is okay. He’s here and he’s safe.

Roman let out a tense gasp of air, cringing as his injuries were jostled. His mind felt like it was short-circuiting, trying to figure out just what game Virgil was playing. Was he acting nice for the shelter workers? Was… was he going to actually take Roman back?

Oh, Roman was definitely in trouble.

Virgil pulled Roman away, looking him over. His eyes widened when he got a good look at the mess of bandages. “What happened?” He asked softly, hovering a finger over it.

Roman grimaced. Great- now Virgil was going to make fun of him for not being able to take on a cat of all things. Cats were quite a formidable foe, but humans often saw them as cute little furballs rather than the demons Roman knew.

“A...cat found me first.” Roman was hesitant to explain, confused about how soft Virgil’s concern was; the shelter workers weren’t going to hear him at that volume.

Virgil’s eyes widened. “A cat.” Virgil hissed out. That wasn’t good, especially if it had been a stray. He probably needed to set up an appointment with a vet…

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of that. Get you properly bandaged and looked at. But first, we’re going home, okay?” Virgil said, voice still gentle. But as his panic was leaving him, a new emotion was growing bigger. Betrayal. Roman had lied after all...and Virgil was a bit upset over it.

But he could deal with that later. Right now, he just wanted to focus on getting Roman home.

“Seriously?” Roman said incredulously, a wave of surprise and fear overcoming him all at once. This had never happened before. Roman didn’t have a plan for this, and that made him very, very nervous.

Virgil looked down at Roman and remembered back to what he had been told. “I told you Roman. The cycle ends here, with me. We’re going home.” And having a nice, long talk, Virgil thought as he started out of the shelter, nodding at the woman in the front before he left.

Roman felt such conflicting feelings inside his chest, his face turning ashen. There was a small spark of something positive in him, a little light beam that couldn’t help but be amazed that Virgil had told the truth. Virgil wanted him…. Of course, the fact that Virgil most likely wanted him back now so that Virgil could kill him was putting a bit of a damper on Roman’s revelation.

What would Virgil do? Take away his things? Make him play games the way he loathed? Toss him around and taunt him about all the secrets he had so foolishly spilled? How was he ever going to escape again? Virgil would certainly become the world’s strictest owner, keeping Roman on a short leash. Oh geez, what if he really did get a leash? Roman hated those more than he hated collars because they put a direct limit on his freedom.

And then, suppose Roman did get free. The second he ended up back at the shelter, Virgil would be there to pick him up and punish him again. Over and over. He knew now that Virgil was just as stubborn as himself, and though the cycle of new owners might have ended… a new cycle might be beginning.

Virgil was silent the rest of the way home, holding Roman against his chest. He pushed the door open and noticed Patton and Logan sat down eating breakfast. Patton perked up when he saw Roman in Virgil’s hands. “Oh Roman! I’m so glad you’re okay.” Patton said, smiling softly.

“For the most part.” Virgil said. “He got a little roughed up by a cat before he was found but he’ll be fine.” He explained. Patton’s eyes widened.

“Oh, you poor kiddo…” He couldn’t imagine how terrifying that must have been.

Logan felt his back muscles tense, observing the way Roman’s eyes darted around similar to a caged animal. It was certainly apparent Roman was not happy to be here, despite the fact that leaving seemed to have resulted in injury.

“Yeah.” Virgil agreed. “I’m gonna go upstairs.” He looked down and noticed the full breakfast Patton had made. He bit his lip. “Uh, could you-”

“I’ll save you two some, don’t worry.” Patton grinned and Virgil sent him a grateful one in return.

“Thanks Pat.” And with that, he walked up the stairs. He stopped by the bathroom to grab the first aid kit and then to his room. He shut the door behind him before gently setting Roman down.

“Alright, first things first.” Virgil opened up the kit. “Let’s fix up that wound a bit better.”

“I- it’s fine.” Roman lied, playing with the edge of the bandage.

“Come on, Roman.” Virgil sighed. He cut up a piece of gauze and took out the lotion. “We need to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“Pretty sure if it’s going to be infected, it already is.” Roman almost attempted humor. “Cat claws aren’t exactly sanitary.”

Virgil frowned. “We’ll have to schedule a vet visit then.” He said more to himself. He reached forward and gently started undoing the bandages already around Roman.

Roman shuddered. A vet appointment? He loathed the vet. It was always so demeaning, with the veterinarians just forcing him to do things instead of asking him to move himself. And whenever something was wrong the humans would just discuss it over his head like he wasn’t even there, not letting Roman have a say in his own health.

Virgil discarded the old bandages before placing a dab of the ointment on his finger. “Okay, this might sting a little.” He warned before gently applying it to Roman’s side.

“Ow!” Roman jerked away from the touch with a hiss. “You said a little.”

Virgil winced. “Sorry, sorry but I’ve gotten rub this in.” He said, doing just that. “There, now just gotta bandage you back up.” He took the gauze he cut up and started to wrap it around Roman.

Roman expected the bandages to be pulled taunt, a clear indicator of Virgil’s wrath. He sucked in his breath, preparing, and was surprised when the bandages were applied almost delicately. Clearly, whatever Virgil wanted with him, Roman still had to be in good health. Not exactly the brightest of thoughts.

“All done.” Virgil said, taking his hands away. The bandages stayed in place and he then busied himself with putting everything away and closing the first aid kit.

He turned to look at Roman, a mixture of feelings coming up now that he was no longer distracted. He took in a deep breath. “Roman...we need to talk about this.”

Uh oh. Roman shifted on his feet, trying to decide if it was better or worse to look Virgil in the eye. He felt like a coward when he looked away so Roman forced himself to meet Virgil’s gaze, deciding that this was definitely worse. He tried to make out what was happening in the human’s head, but the eyes gave no hints.

“I just...I don’t understand. I-I thought we were bonding. Having fun. Was that all just an act? Were you just lying to me? Was everything you told me a lie?” Virgil asked, his feelings rising with each question until he was pulling at his hair as he desperately looked at Roman for the answers.

“No!” Roman shrunk in on himself, feeling scared and guilty and confused. “No, I assure you, I was not lying. Wait, that’s a lie, because I was lying about the promising to not escape...obviously.”

Well, Virgil was glad that everything else was true, like Roman’s past. But he still had questions. “...Why? I thought we were doing better. I thought…” Virgil ran a hand through his hair. “I thought we were getting along.”

“Well, ah, we… were, I suppose.” Roman rubbed the back of his neck. “In a way, at least. I was having fun, I’ll admit.”

“Then why did you still escape.” Virgil asked softly. “I mean, do you know how worried I was! I got maybe an hour of sleep last night because I spend the whole night looking for you!” Virgil exclaimed a bit louder than he probably should have this close to the borrower.

Roman frowned, confused by this new piece of information. He had definitely escaped too early, then, if Virgil was so concerned. Roman hadn’t let the appeal of a new borrower wear off.

“I told you, I don’t want a ‘not-so-bad’ experience.” Roman huffed, crossing his arms and trying to ignore the pit in his stomach.

“Well then tell me what I can do to make it great. Tell me how I can be better. I want you to be happy here, Roman. I...I want you to like me.” Virgil admitted, looking away.

“I know!” Roman snapped, channeling all his confusing emotions into anger as he watched Virgil mope. This, at least, felt familiar. “I know you do, I get it, you’re one of the rare humans who actually cares about what I think, but you still don’t care about anything that matters! I don’t care who it’s with, I don’t want to be caged!”

Roman grabbed at the tag of his collar, frustrated tears coming to his eyes. “I don’t want to be collared! I don’t want to be owned! I’m my own person with my own life and I’m sick and tired of humans making my decisions for me for your own selfish wants.”

Virgil flinched back, looking back at Roman with wide eyes. He felt his heart beat fast as he furrowed his eyebrows and took in everything that Roman said. His words struck a chord in him and Virgil realized that...maybe he had known all along? And he had just ignored it?

Virgil didn’t know what was worse.

“Roman...I…” His voice trailed off. He had no idea what to say to something like that. “I...didn’t know…” Virgil winced. Yeah, that was the absolute wrong thing to say.

“Stop it.” Roman scowled, gesturing wildly to all of Virgil. “Stop...that. Why are you sulking? Stop playing around. I know you must be absolutely furious with me, so- so stop playing the victim and just get mad already.”

Now Virgil was even more confused. “Roman...I’m not mad. I won’t lie and say I’m not upset but-but…” Virgil’s eyes widened as he seemed to realize what Roman was thinking. “Roman, I’m not going to punish you.”

“What?” Roman squinted, his heart still racing and his stomach still feeling like a rock. What was happening? Roman didn’t understand why he was feeling all these conflicting emotions, and it only made him more frustrated. Despite not wanting to be punished, Roman couldn’t help but press further. “Why not? Why am I… why’d you take me back, then?”

Virgil sighed. “Because I really do want you Roman. I want you to have a good life and I don’t trust anyone else to give it to you. What? Even after everything I said before, you still thought I wouldn’t come back for you?”

Roman took a shuddering breath, cautiously wrapping his arms around his meager frame. “I… I mean, you would have said anything to calm me down. I haven’t known you for long, and I myself was lying about running. I had no reason to trust you, and it’s easy to make those claims. It’s another thing to actually act on them.”

“I...I guess you do have a good point.” Virgil furrowed his brows again, deep in thought. “I suppose we...did just meet each other, huh? And, I’ve been acting like all this is normal and everything when it really isn’t…” Virgil let out a long sigh.

“Wait, like what’s all normal?” Roman’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“This. You, being here. Living here. Being...trapped here.” Virgil looked down and shifted in his seat. “Having to act like someone you aren’t and hide your feelings because you’re scared something will happen to you…” He was starting to understand where Roman was coming from.

Roman froze, so caught off guard that he could only utter a single word. “...what?”

Virgil looked at Roman sadly. “You’re right. You didn’t know me before you were forced to live here. Just like with all your other...owners. You’ve been forced to listen to me because I’m so much bigger than you and the world we live in deemed you...deemed you as pets.” He looked Roman over, his eyes catching the collar around Roman’s neck and he barked out a humorless laugh. “I even collared you...like some animal…”

“Yes?” Roman glanced down at the collar, before raising an eyebrow at Virgil. Had the human gone mad? He seemed to be teetering on the edge of hysterical. “Are you gloating or something?”

Virgil shook his head. “No...just having a mental breakdown, but it’s fine. I think I needed this.” He took in a deep breath. “Roman...do you want me to take the collar off of you?” He offered.

“Why?” Roman asked, looking the human up and down with a wary eye. For one, Roman was still concerned for Virgil’s mental state. But for another, Roman didn’t particularly like the idea of being taunted with freedom when he knew the collar would just come back on.

Virgil bit his lip, knowing Roman was still wary. Which, he had good reason to be. Virgil couldn’t blame him. He was suddenly struck with an earlier memory and well...it had worked that time. Maybe it would here too. “Because I’m going to burn it.”

#pet perspective #perspective series #human!virgil #human!patton #borrower!logan #borrower!roman #part 12

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